Take care of yourself...

I am amazed by the obvious. It has taken me quite awhile to find this resolution, even though it has been right in front of my face the whole time. I am amazed at how much better life is if you take care of yourself. Now, I'm not talking extreme pampering, or any special treatment at all. I'm talking about the basics: eating healthy, being active, getting enough sleep, and drinking plenty of water. How many times have you heard that? Probably a million. But yet, most of us still search and search and search for the answer. We are looking for a quick fix. We are looking for that diet that will make us "lose 20 pounds in three weeks". Or that workout plan that will "drop inches from your waist in minutes". Number 1, is that even possible? And number 2, if it is possible, is it really healthy? We are looking for an easy way out of this mess we've found ourselves in. But, how much easier can you get than following the basics mentioned above? 


I will be the first to admit that I have been a prisoner of food and extreme dieting for the past couple of years. Sometimes I felt as though I had an addiction. To food. For some sick reason, I let food take over my life, both mentally and physically. My mind would tell me that it's okay to eat junk, and carbs, and fatty foods. But my poor body would sit there helpless, surrendering to my mind's humiliating dependency on food. This addiction (if we can call it that) never resulted in anything good. Beyond the initial taste of food, it brought me nothing but disgust and embarrassment. This disappointment brought upon the need to diet. I can't tell you how many times I searched on Google "lose weight fast" or "detox diets". I would find the easiest plan and stick to it for a couple weeks. On top of that would be a new workout plan or some form of extreme exercise. It wouldn't be long, though, before this lifestyle would give up on me and I would be face to face with my enemy once again. The feeling of failure is something I've experienced more times than I can count. Failing myself was a reoccurring situation. 


Of course you failed, you idiot. Every fad diet and miracle weight loss plan fail. Sure, I managed to maintain a healthy weight for as long as I can remember. But in all that time, I never remember once being satisfied with myself, with my body. It was always one extreme or the other. Either completely surrender to food and "start my diet tomorrow", or completely neglect to nourish my body. My new favorite saying is "you are what you eat", because it is SO TRUE. If you expect to feel happy and healthy after eating a greasy pizza, a dozen cookies, and a large milkshake, you're wrong. There's a reason someone came up with the food pyramid, because it's exactly what our bodies need to be healthy! Go back to the caveman days; they ate food to simply stay alive. Now here we are, being gluttonous and stuffing our poor stomachs with stuff it does not want or need. 


Trust me, I know it is easier said than done. However, I have witnessed first-hand what eating healthy and being active can do. It will change your life (not to mention your skin will appear healthier, your energy level will go up, your mood will change, your body will change, and your self-confidence will increase dramatically). Don't get me wrong, I can't live without chocolate and pizza. But I don't need an entire bag of chocolate and 6 pieces of pizza. Food doesn't need to be the first thing on my mind. Lately, I'm proud to say it hasn't been. And since I've shoved my dependency upon food to the back of my mind, I am able to live a happier, healthier life. My body needs certain things; fruit, veggies, whole grains, etc. That's what it needs to be healthy, and that's what it deserves. We were all given just one body...the least we can do is take care of it. 


On a less-serious note, there was a pet costume parade in the park behind my apartment building this morning! Of course I bundled up, grabbed coffee from Starbucks, and watched them prance around...and took pictures! 

Sorry to leave you hanging...

Although you can't really see my nails (you'll just have to trust me on that one), here is a picture of my new coat. You can thank Jennie for pushing me to post this...sorry to leave you hanging guys! Oh, and this is not today's blog by the way...there's still one coming! :) 

Bring on the cold weather...

Friday managed to roll around again. Although the sight of another weekend is beyond appealing, I cannot believe how fast time slips by without notice. It seems like it was literally yesterday that I made the commitment to pack up and move; and now here I am, 4 months later, almost a completely different person. Time didn't fail to pass me like a freight train, although I feel like I was standing still the whole time. If that makes any sense.  Anyway, my Friday was great (although I can't imagine a Friday being anything less). The first thing I noticed as I started my day was that this beastly cold has not completely left my system. I knew this when I looked at my phone and saw 10:15...which is 4 more hours of sleep than I am used to getting. This immediately told me that I apparently needed the rest and my body thanked me for it. As much as I would love to say "your welcome" I could not; I still felt as though I had already wasted part of my day. But, I had to get over it and accept the fact that it was much needed. With this road-block behind me, I bundled up to face the 40 degree weather outside, putting on an extra layer to prevent this cold from getting any worse. Although I have several "fall" jackets, I've yet to purchase a "winter in Chicago" jacket. And according to everyone I've talked to, I will need a good one. That's where I headed, to find a "winter in Chicago" jacket, and I wasn't coming home until I found one. Although the locals have told me I will need a "floor length, puffy coat with a big hood", I still could not fathom the idea of me walking around in an unflattering marshmallow coat that touches the ground. So, I met them halfway and compromised with a mid-thigh length, semi-puffy Anne Klein coat with a nice big hood lined with fur. I was shooting for warmth, but managed to find both warmth AND style. Perfect. 

One thing you should know about me is that I hate shopping in stores. Surprised? Me too. Nothing about being in an overcrowded, overly loud store with bad music is appealing to me. Let alone having to dodge random items on the floor that other customers were too lazy to pick up. I guess I shouldn't say I hate it all the time. I do get in my moods where I like to just browse for hours and see what I come up with. This is assuming it's not a weekend and I have the patience to do so. However, the majority of the time I would much rather order what I need from the comfort of my own home. If everything was guaranteed to fit correctly and shipping was free, I would do it more often. Anyway, after bracing the chaos on State Street to find this new jacket of mine, I jumped back on the L and made my way back to my quiet side of town. Since I'm horrible at making decisions, coat shopping took a little longer than expected. Regardless, I arrived at my local Starbucks just in time to enjoy a warm cup of coffee before crossing the street to make my 3:00 appointment at the nail salon. Another thing you should know about me is that I have an addiction to getting my nails done. Of all the cosmetic harm I could inflict upon my body, the one thing I choose to do is get my nails filled every few weeks. So before you go assuming that I'm a tan-aholic, shop-aholic that clicks around in high heels and gets her hair highlighted monthly, please stop yourself. I am none of those things, and I'm glad I'm not. Moving on. There is something about having a freshly filled full set that has the power to completely change your view of yourself. The moment I sit in the chair at this salon that I've never been to, I feel relaxed. It's a gorgeous place, the staff is incredibly polite, and it's only a few blocks from my apartment. I feel like I've found heaven. The nail technician works her magic, without any conversation, which is what I prefer. The transformation from grown-out, chipped nails to beautifully polished ones is incredible to me. Getting rid of my summer white tip, I opted for a taupe color for fall. But before the color was applied I was surprised to receive a mini-hand massage including warm towels wrapped around each of my hands. I like this place even more. The color was perfect, the shape was perfect, it was all perfect and I didn't even have to give any direction. But it did not end here. As I sat down at their bar-style drying stations I was treated to yet another massage, this time on my neck and shoulders. I've always thought a neck massage would go well at this stage in the appointment, but never imagined it would ever be included. It was, and I loved it. And I will return in a few weeks for another session. 

Although today seemed to fly by, like most days do, I feel like it was overall a successful Friday. I am clearly well rested, but I don't see bed time being too far in the distance. I'm shooting for another successful day tomorrow and will be sure to report the outcome. 

Heat is my friend...

One of my favorite things in the world is heat. I don't want anything to do with it until the temperature outside drops below 50 degrees, then it's my best friend. During the summer months, however, I despise it. I loath the sticky, sweaty, hot, uncomfortable combination that comes with the months of June, July, and August. But when that cold air enters my life, so does my love for heat. I'm not sure if it's the actual feel of warm air, or if it's the sound. Call me boring, but I find myself in my most comfortable and relaxed place when I can cuddle up and listen to nothing but the sound of heat pouring into my home. This love affair with heat and the sound of heat goes way back to when I was small. I remember cold winter days at home, waking up early while there was still frost on the ground. (Keep in mind that I tried to avoid this sounding like a story you may hear from your grandmother, but I simply could not avoid it). My mom always had breakfast on the table for us. At least 4 boxes of cereal decorated the "breakfast room" table along with 4 bowls (soon it would be 3 bowls when Sarah would pack up and head to college) and of course a gallon of milk. On these mornings I would choose my cereal of the day, pour myself a bowl, and go sit on the floor by the kitchen sink. This is where the heat came out; from a 3x6 vent under the sink. More often than not I would bring a blanket in there with me, just to add to my comfort. This was a hit-or-miss location, though. The furnace would run for about 10 minutes straight before shutting off, and basically telling you it's time to move along. I remember sitting there, dreading it turning off, dreading moving from that warm spot and into the cool house. Another favorite place that heat often showed up was by the fireplace. We (and when I say we, I mean my sisters and I) would lay on the floor with our feet perched up next to the glass doors, allowing our feet to get warm. Once in awhile our feet would touch the glass, warning us to not get too close. Not only did we enjoy the natural heat that radiated off the burning fire, but we also got to enjoy the sound of heat coming from the vent above the fireplace as it blasted warm air down onto us. Sometimes we would even try to "dry our hair" by this vent, although it usually failed us as a blow dryer. Oh, and we had our space heater in the upstairs bathroom. Looking back, it was probably the most unsafe appliance to have in a household, especially in a bathroom with 4 girls. But luckily they've come out with newer models, as I'm sure this one was from the '70s. Surprisingly, these newer models don't have exposed coils like the one we had did (yes, you could literally grab the flaming hot coils). 

So looking back, there is something about heat that has always brought me to a different level of comfort. Something about that sound that relaxes me and allows me to sleep easy. It has been a huge part of memories growing up, and I'm sure will be in my future.  It has always been one of those things that must be enjoyed while it lasts, but has also been taken for granted. I may not always be able to enjoy what heat has to offer me, but for this moment right now, I can. And I am. 

This picture was taken during my vacation at home. Almost every night was spent in this spot.

Feels good to be back...

Here I am. I'm back in my safe outlet. After not writing for a few days, I started to crave it. But of all the things I could be addicted to, I'd say writing my blog is fairly harmless. I am perched on the newest addition to my home in the sky; a leather loveseat (passed down from my grandparents). It fits perfectly in the nook by my middle window, and gives my space even more of a home-y feeling. I didn't realize how convenient and comfortable having a piece of furniture to sit on would be. After having nothing but my bed and a couple stools for nearly 4 months, it's nice to have a couch. Sitting next to me is a mug of hot tea and a box of tissues. An angry head cold snuck up on me yesterday and is still lingering today. I can't remember the last time I was "sick". I think it was over 2 years ago when I was hit by the flu; but no traces of anything serious since then. I guess that makes me pretty lucky. I am more lucky that I don't have class today, allowing time for my body to rest. Maybe I deserve this combination of a sore throat, stuffy nose, and achy muscles, though. It's almost as if it's my punishment for taking 3 days off to spend time with my parents. Which was amazing, by the way. 

They hadn't been in the city for almost 4 months, since I moved in. Although they prefer their small-town lifestyle, they love experiencing the big city for a few days. And I love showing them my city. Four months ago it was a world of unknown. But now, I feel like I have a good grip on what's going on around me. I feel less like a tourist and more like a local. I know the tourist in me will never completely go away, though. And I'm not sure I would ever want it to. We did a lot of walking, which is never a bad way to get around the city. And we did hail a cab or two somewhere along the way. We tried a couple new restaurants, I took them to my favorite bar down the street, and introduced them to "my" Starbucks. We all agreed that although it is a busy city, there is a fresh calming feeling you get while you're here. Walking the streets of Chicago gives you that excitement that comes with a big city, without being too overwhelming. Of all the ground we covered, though, their favorite spot was the same as mine: the view from the middle window in my apartment. Something about being up here, above all the action, is enough to make you feel completely relaxed. 

And that's how I feel right now, completely relaxed. Maybe it's the cold medication causing this feeling, or maybe it's me getting my writing fix. Let's assume it's a combination of the two. Regardless, I promised myself I will not go this long without writing again. And I don't break promises, especially when they're to myself.

Please enjoy this random snapshot of us in the cab. Apparently it was impossible to get all 3 of us in the picture!

Inspired...

After yesterday's events, today's entry may seem a little uninspiring. That is certainly not my mood today, however. I am inspired everyday. And if there is nothing within my surroundings to bring me inspiration, I find it. I have been up for over 5 hours already and have decided that my favorite time of day is between 5:00 and 7:00 AM. There is something about being up before the sun rises that makes me feel accomplished. Even if I sit in my pajamas, sip coffee, and paint for those two hours, I still feel better than if I were to sleep in. And that's exactly what I did this morning. Although I'm sure I could tweak it a little, my current work of art is complete. It's not what I intended to create when I had the blank canvas in front of me. In fact, I made many changes as my mood changed and as new inspiration came to me. And I went through a few tubes of acrylic to compensate for these changes. Somehow, though, I was able to make the connection between the thoughts in my head and the paintbrush. There is something about painting that brings me to a different level. For that moment, I am drowning in thoughts and translating them into colors and brush strokes. Although I am still an amateur, I have to keep in mind that everyone starts somewhere. Every painting will increase in craftsmanship and every blank canvas will get splattered with the story of my life. 


I made my way to the Chicago Public Library this morning, and naturally found a Starbucks on the way home. I plopped myself here, next to a window, where I see rain starting to fall lightly onto the sidewalk. Luckily, I am near an L stop, so I won't have to walk the 2 miles home in the rain. This will get me home quicker anyway and allow time for cleaning (and of course a short nap). Today seems to be going in slow motion and I think I know why. I am anxiously awaiting my parents' arrival which will be around 4:00 this afternoon. Because my time will be consumed by exploring the city with them, you may not hear from me for a couple of days. It's time for a break from this machine anyway. This girl needs some quality time with the two people I miss the most. 

I belong backstage...

To say the least, today was an eventful day. It was filled with new and unusual experiences, as most of my days are. There really is no other way to explain my day, other than to give you a short narrative. Please bear with me. 


I made my way east this morning, where I would be working at two Giorgio Armani runway shows, one at 12:00 and one at 6:00. This show would be very exclusive and a more private event held at his boutique on Michigan Avenue. Don't get me wrong, although I have worked backstage at a show before, there is still that little girl from Michigan in the back of my mind saying "holy crap, I can't believe you're doing this"!! Plus, this was Giorgio Armani....again, "holy crap"!! I began by meeting several Armani employees, some of which flew in from their headquarters in New York, others were based out of LA or here in Chicago. We immediately began prep for the first show; tape on the bottom of all shoes, all pants got pre-belted for easy changes, and every outfit was gone over at least twice to make sure it was all in tact and tag-less. A lot more went on during the 2 hours we had before the first show, but let's just skip to the good part, the show itself. Like I said, this was a private show, and the audience was solely made up of Armani's elite clientèle in Chicago. I was assigned to a 5'11" model who probably weighed 110 pounds soaking wet. My job was to basically help her change in and out of these incredible clothes and make sure things were properly fastened, tied, and buckled before she stepped foot out onto the runway. I was also responsible for properly hanging these clothes and putting them in their proper cases, etc. So she had her first look on and joined the other models in the hallway. I felt a sense of pride, almost as if she was my daughter leaving for her first day of school (although I'm not so sure my daughter will be wearing an outfit worth over $15,000 and 5" stilettos to school). Anyway, immediately following this proud moment was a loud crash. She buckled, that poor girl. I should have told her not to lock her knees like my mom used to tell me...she fainted. I didn't see this happen, however I did hear a lot of whispers..."Should I call 911? No, she's getting up, someone get some water." Not so luckily, her face-first fall was blocked by a cement wall, which resulted in calling the makeup artist over to cover up any signs of a bump on her forehead. Apparently this is not unusual. These girls barely want to drink water for fear of gaining weight and losing their modeling jobs. My model, the one who took a face plant into the wall, even told me that Ford Modeling Agency wanted her to lose another inch before they would sign her. She refused and actually gained an inch. So the next few looks passed without much disruption, things went smoothly. Her final look was one of Giorgio's velvet ball gowns. Although this girl was basically skin and bones, this dress was so small it took 3 of us to zip up the side zipper. After it was finally secure we sent her on her way, only to have her turn around and tell us her zipper split. This is one of those moments where you have to think on your toes. Even the tailor was at a loss for words. Finally, one of the girls grabbed a wide belt and a few pins, and after the 3 of us frantically did what we could to cover up this hole, she was sent out to showcase this makeshift gown. Silence drifted over us as she walked away, mainly because we were all thinking of how she would get out of this dress when she returned to us. Today, I witnessed a $15,000 Giorgio Armani gown being cut with scissors. I don't think my eyes have ever opened so wide in my life.


I could probably go on for days about what I saw and experienced today. Fortunately, for your sake, I won't. Let's just say I'm in a completely different world than I was a few months ago. I'm in a world of endless possibilities and I'm surrounded by moments that I will remember for the rest of my life. Regardless of where I end up, I hope the road there is filled with more of this. And I hope that poor girl had a cheeseburger after the show. 

Trying too hard?

Sometimes I wonder if I'm trying too hard. The only time this thought really enters my mind is while I'm at school. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to most things, and anything related to my education falls nicely under this category. Maybe because it's something that I've thrown away in the past. Now that I've gotten my final chance to finish my degree, I take it very seriously and hold it close to my heart. My personality defers me from ever being late, to anything, ever. In fact, 90% of the time I arrive to things too early and find myself wasting the extra time that I've created. But I would much rather be early than late, simply because I don't want to be the tardy one. Especially to class. One thing that really gets me confused is how my classmates can walk in the door late, whether it's 5 minutes or 15 minutes. Regardless, the instructor never fails to "wait a few more minutes" for those that are running a little late. Forget the fact that I just booked it to get here 5 minutes prior to the start of class. Or the fact that I skipped lunch and let my missed call go unreturned because I needed to get to class. Yeah, forget that. We'll just sit here and wait for the people that you know are going to be late, because they always are, and they are never punished for it. And the kicker is when these people walk in with a fresh cup of Starbucks in their hand. Really? And it's not only the walking in late thing that gets to me. It's the not showing up at all thing. Sure, I understand, life happens. But really, how often do things really happen that prevent you from being able to come to class. Aren't you concerned about what you're missing? And naturally the professors always work around them, while those of us that are actually attending class and doing well get ridiculed for the littlest things. Someone is paying for this...whether it's your parents, your student loans, or some magical chunk of money. Whatever it may be, you are basically paying for your food and leaving without eating it. Enough said. 

I guess this feeling of trying too hard comes in more places than one. I constantly look around me and see people simply not caring. Nobody seems to care about others' feelings or the impression they are leaving on someone. They don't seem to care about anything. Maybe it's not that they don't care, they simply just don't appreciate. One thing you should know about me is that I cannot stand when people don't appreciate things. I am so thankful for every little piece of my life and I make sure to let everyone know how thankful I am. I appreciate every phone call or message from my family, every card I receive in the mail, and every smile I see from a stranger. I appreciate the small things in life because that's what makes me the happiest. 

In the past few minutes, I've decided that I'm not trying too hard. Other people just aren't trying at all. 

Thank you Starbucks...

Today couldn't be going more perfect. Today is all mine, and with it I will do what I please. It started just under 2 hours ago, which is exactly the time I would hope to get up on a day off. There is a fine line between the right amount of sleep and too much sleep. Had I slept any longer I would have woken with an anxious feeling, like I had wasted part of my day. Luckily, I opened my eyes before that feeling had a chance to reach me. After pulling myself together and getting some laundry started, I decided it would be a perfect day for homework at Starbucks. Or in my case right now, writing my blog at Starbucks. So I put on my favorite fall outfit (leggings, poncho, and boots), and made my way down Clinton Street toward my current location. This is not the closest Starbucks to me, in fact there are 3 others that are within a few blocks. However, I knew this one, unlike others, would have a place for me to sit. And sure enough, it does. Here I sit in an oversized green chair, steaming Venti Regular coffee sits patiently to my right. A sprinkle of cinnamon rests on top, giving me the fall spice taste without the calories. And a couple school projects sit in the back of my head, just waiting for me to complete them so I can move on with my life. And I will, I will finish them today. I love days like today for that reason also, it gives me a chance to catch up on things, get things done and out of my way. I am squeezing an extra amount in this week to free up my weekend. My parents will make their way to the city on Saturday morning, and the 3 days that follow will be devoted to them. They will get to see what I've been doing, what I have created, and how far I've come in the four months since they've been here. Not much has changed in the city, and they did just see me three weeks ago. But the combination of me and Chicago is where they will see a difference. 


As I look around, I can't help but smile. If you haven't noticed, I try to make the best out of every situation I am put in. Or maybe I just always try to create my own good situations. Either way, my fear of this quickly passing life forces me to slow it down. I have to make time stop, even if only for a few seconds. My other fear of regret has a hand in helping me do this. The more snapshots I take of this life, the better. The more deep breaths I take, the better I feel. And the more experiences I am able to soak up, the happier I will be. 

I hate clutter...

Tonight I am exhausted. I did something when I got home that I never, ever do. I took my boots off after a long day of walking in them, and I threw them in my closet. If you know me at all, you know that I am extremely organized (sometimes a little over-the-top). And you would know that I never just throw my shoes in the closet, ever. Everything around me has order, everything is clean, and everything has to stay this way. This includes places no one can see, such as my drawers and closets. My clothes are typically in order by color and my shoes are lined up perfectly...well, they were until now. Okay, so now I sound like some kind of neat freak, which I guess is a little extreme. Please don't get me wrong, I will leave things imperfect. Such as my bed in the morning if I don't have time. Or maybe I will leave a couple books out overnight instead of putting them on the shelf. Or perhaps I left a few crumbs on the counter after making toast. These things happen, I get that. However, on a perfect day my bed will be made, my counters will be free of any debris, and everything will be in its corresponding place. I hate clutter. I often wonder if there's a word for someone who is an anti-hoarder and anti-clutter-er. Because that's me. Sometimes I think I have a fascination with throwing things away. If it's meaningless to my life, and if I'm done with it, it's gone.


I've learned to treat certain people the same way. As cruel as that may sound, it's the truth. I come across hundreds of people every single day. Some of them I interact with, others I'm forced to interact with, and some I just get a glimpse of. Little do these people know that I am quickly evaluating them, almost interviewing them silently in my head. Will you benefit my life in any way? If the answer is no (which it usually is), then I smile and move along. I do not allow another second of my life to be spent on that person. I do give chances, however. I will give anyone a chance that is alive and breathing. But if there is anything about you that I feel will be destructive to my life, then I simply walk away.


I've come too far to let clutter take over. Much like I control the organization of my living space, I control the organization of my life. And as long as I keep my life organized, neat, and clean, I will be able to breathe easy. And I will breathe even better after I go straighten my boots in the closet. 

Hello Monday...

Since exercise is never a bad thing, I decided to walk to my internship this morning. Although it is not too far (just under 3 miles), the terrain on the way here can be less than smooth in some areas. I found myself dodging broken sidewalks, crossing to the other side of the road to avoid disturbing characters, and ducking under low-hanging branches. Even with these roadblocks, though, I'm glad I walked. The air was crisp, but refreshing. Although, if it were any colder I would have wished I had a pair of small gloves. But today, the cool air felt good. My legs are tingling, telling me that they worked hard and my body is saying "thanks for taking care of me". This is a good feeling. I allowed extra time today to stop here, at this little coffee shop, to sip warm java and write a quick entry in my blog. And that's what I'm doing. Although I am distracted by the busy street in front of me, I will try to focus. 

Today symbolizes a new week, something that I'm always okay with. Most people dread Mondays, however, I see them as a fresh start. Mondays give me motivation to do good, in every aspect of my life. They make me want to work hard, be smart, and take care of myself. They wash away the uncertainty that the weekend sometimes brings and introduce structure back into my life. I feel as though Mondays were invented to let us all take a deep breath and push forward. Maybe that's why I walked today, because Monday motivated me to do so. I'm not sure though. Walking for me has transformed from just a form of exercise to a way for me to see my surroundings. The exercise part is just a bonus. When I go "exploring", as I call it,  I try to take a different street each time, hoping I'll cover them all by the time I am finished here. But even when I do take the same route, I always see an assortment of new happenings and new people. Some courses, I quickly learned, I should avoid all together. Others I want to travel every day. The course I'm on right now is one of those, one that I want to travel every day...and I will. 

A productive day...

Days like today are rejuvenating. It is a comfy pants and sweatshirt kind of a day, mainly because my windows are open, allowing for the chilly air to flow in. It feels fresh and fills my apartment with the smell of fall, a scent that is difficult to describe but easy to enjoy. My Sunday started fairly early, 5:00 to be exact. It was another one of those mornings that I felt motivated to get out of bed and start my day. I'll admit, knowing an afternoon nap will be a part of my schedule makes putting my feet on the ground even easier. That's all you have to do, just put your feet on the ground, and it's all downhill from there. I made my way to the fitness center located on the 8th floor of my apartment complex, only to find it completely empty and nearly pitch black. I am instantly motivated to be here, bettering myself, before anyone else even opens their eyes. I feel as though I am awake before the entire city, especially since the sun has not come up, making it feel like it is the middle of the night. I wonder if this particular day of the week has anything to do with it, or if it simply is too early for me to be down here. Regardless, I finish my workout in about an hour and head back upstairs, still no signs of life. Fresh coffee brewed for me while I was gone, and I have been enjoying it ever since. In this time I have also managed to cut my homework load nearly in half, which will free up time later in the day for watching football, painting and a Sunday afternoon nap. 

It is shaping up to be a productive day. Somewhere in the past 7 hours I have learned something new; or perhaps just revisited an old way of thinking. I found myself consumed by a small amount of worry this morning. Thinking about the future has a tendency to do this to someone. Typically, the road of unknowns that lies ahead of me is refreshing and leaves me feeling excited. This morning, however, thoughts of the future came at me like bullets out of a machine gun. Where will I end up? How will I get there? What will happen along the way? I've learned to take myself out of that mindset. I've learned to calm myself down, as no one else is going to do it for me. It doesn't take long to do this, and within minutes I'm telling myself to listen to my own advice. I've never been one to say "Live in the moment", however, this is what I tell myself. I've realized that it does not pay to worry, worrying gets you nowhere. But it gets you there fast. What gets you somewhere is being proactive, just completing things one at a time. I've realized that we should take each day as they come, knowing what needs to be done, and in what order. There's no better feeling than completing something and moving on to the next.

Growing up, my mom would help us get through the anxiety of cleaning our rooms. She'd tell us to start with one thing, put it away, and move to the next. All while saying "This goes here, this goes there, and this goes here". Before we knew it, we were standing in a perfectly clean room. I've taken that memory to the present day with me and use her advice to get things accomplished every single day. 

I have a craving...

I have been craving this. It's funny how the mind can change the meaning of your words, without giving you much notice. Maybe it's not so much the meaning as it is the context of the word. Or maybe it's just something that happens as you get older. Either way, my cravings have modified themselves and I have let them do so. This is something that has happened recently, and continues to magnify as each day passes. My cravings are no longer for what they used to be (chocolate, for example). They have more substance and are much more significant to my life right now. I find myself craving a feeling, almost as if I'm an addict. The feeling of pure independence and pride in myself. That's what I crave. Getting my fix of this feeling sends a surge of empowerment through my body and I can't help but giggle a little. I usually get my fix while walking through the streets of Chicago. Certain places give me my fix more than others; my view from the small bridge on Kinzie Ave, the walk down Clinton street, the skyline view as I step outside of my school, and walking next to the river on Wacker Drive. Just to name a few. Different versions of this feeling come along with other things as well. It acts as a side dish with things such as entering my apartment, knowing that it's no one else's but my own. Or watching boats float peacefully down the river with the busy city on either side of them. It also comes with seeing yellow taxi cabs, don't ask me why. And it comes with every moment in between the ones mentioned. I am a firm believer in doing what makes you happy. Everyone has that one thing that gives them a burning feeling in their chest. I've learned that you have to go after that one thing, no matter how bizarre it is, or what it takes to get it. You can make excuses, but they will take you nowhere. If you're not at least trying to inch your way closer, then what is the point of living this life we were handed to us? 


I have two things that make my chest burn with love and excitement. My family makes me so proud I could just cry. I see my parents, married for 30 years and still expressing more love for each other than I could ever imagine having for someone. And my three best friends, my older sisters. Each of them possessing different qualities that has led them to live their happy lives. Each of them giving me a protective brother that I never had growing up. And each of them watching out for me, their baby sis. We truly are an unbreakable unit, with more pride and confidence in each other than I can even explain.


The second thing that gives me a burning feeling in my chest is this. Right now. This experience in my life will be something I look back on and take pride in. I'm learning new things every single minute; about life, about happiness, and mostly about myself. I never thought loving myself was something that could actually be attainable, and I'm sure most people think it's out of reach. But I assure you, it is possible. 

Dying to be alive...

The city is awake. I have been for about 2 hours. I'm not sure that the city ever sleeps, actually. But somewhere between 5:30 and 7:00 it starts to show signs of another busy day. Today it seems tired. Clouds cover the sky, which reminds me that it is supposed to rain today so I should probably pack my umbrella. Cars are moving slower than usual and someone has painted an achromatic scene outside my window. I am okay with this. We all need a day like today once in awhile. Although some would prefer to embrace their pillow and sleep on a cloudy day, I do not. For some reason I thrive on gloomy days. They are comforting to me and make me feel as though I have more structure. Unfortunately, I cannot explain why. 

As I told you, I have been up for a couple hours now. Usually, when my alarm goes off, I proceed to hit snooze, getting 5 more minutes of sleep in return. After nearly half an hour of "5 more minutes" I begin to feel completely lazy and foolish. This is when I decide to get up. Luckily, I always set my alarm for an hour earlier than the time I need to get up, knowing that this little episode will happen. However, today it did not happen. Today I woke  up to a new song. I typically pick a new tune on my phone to use as my wake up call, as I did last night. So at 5:30 I began to hear my motivation. My motivation to not only get up, but do something, make something of my day, and just be alive. If you haven't noticed, life just passes us by. It does not care what you want, it does not care what you are going through, and it certainly does not care how you choose to spend it. Sure, we could all lay on the floor, expecting someone to come along and pick us up, tell us what to do. However, that would get us nowhere. I've realized that no one is going to live my life for me. No one is going to smile for me, no one will accomplish things for me, and no one will love myself as much as I can. We were all given this one body, this one life to live. Yet most of us treat each day as if it's a chore. Unfortunately, these people will look back at their "bad days" and realize the only reason they were so bad is because they let them be.  If you are alive and well, you should have no complaints. Today will end, a new day will begin. It will not stop to wait for us.


Please ignore the video and just listen to the lyrics. It's the only one I could find to share with you guys! :) 
Hanson - Dying to Be Alive 

Oh Tuesday...

I think it's safe to say that yesterday was a total fail. I swore to myself that I would never be one to say I was too busy to do something, especially something that seems so simple. I had to break that promise to myself yesterday and put more important things before my blog. I continued to do so all day, until it got to be 11:00 and I was beyond ready for bed. It happens. I normally wouldn't be so consumed on a typical Monday. However, with a visitor coming to the city at the end of the week that I want to clear my schedule for, and 2 presentations to give before that, I had no option. I was confined to the small space around my computer, only leaving to pour another cup of coffee. And I'm still not done. One of the projects (the smaller of the two) will be over and done with at approximately 6:30 tonight. Although giving speeches are a breeze for me, there is still the annoyance of doing it hanging over my head. The bigger project won't exit my life until Thursday morning, putting a damper on life until then. But, this is what I signed up for, after all. And I'm okay with it. I'll be even more okay with it when March of 2012 rolls around and I can cross another thing off of my bucket list. 

Today started out very well. It is another warm day in the city, once again too warm for October. You can definitely tell who didn't check the weather before dressing themselves this morning and who did. Everyone is itching to wear their new fall clothes, and is too stubborn to let them sit in the closet until the temperature drops considerably. It reminds me of the first day of school. Everyone wanted to wear their new sweaters and jeans, and we did. Then we'd all sit miserably in the hot, stale classroom and sweat all day, ruining our fresh wardrobe. But we had to wear the new outfit that we had picked out weeks before school started. And we didn't learn, making the same mistake year after year. Yep, it's kind of like that. 

Schoolwork is calling my name again. As much as I would like to tell it to shut up, I cannot. 

My favorite spot...

I'm in my favorite spot. Sitting on the sill of the middle window in my apartment. I think they made this ledge purposely for me, or so I like to think. I fit perfectly, perched next to this almost floor-to-ceiling window, the city skyline painted to my left. That, too, seems as though it was put here just for me, just for these moments. I am given the opportunity to look at where I am, both mentally and physically, and think about how far I've come in a short amount of time. I am face-to-face with my future, my past sits quietly behind me where it belongs. Also lingering in the background is a small amount of fear. Fear of failure, fear of the unknown, and fear of losing myself along the way. I don't know where I'm going or where I'll end up, but I do know that I'm on the right track, whatever that track may be. Fear and doubt instantly leave my presence as I retreat back to the beautiful view to my left. Below me I see a mixture of everyday life in the city. Trains coming into and leaving the station, couples walking their dogs on the sidewalk, and taxi cabs rushing to unknown destinations. Maybe that's why I love this spot so much. It is my quiet oasis in the sky, a place from which I can be a part of the fast-paced world below me, without stepping foot outside my door. 

But I did step foot outside this morning, bright and early before the temperature rose to it's expected high of 80-some degrees. Not exactly my idea of October weather, but there's nothing I can do to change that. I love morning runs for many reasons; it gives me a chance to breathe fresh air, a chance to view the world around me, and a chance to focus on myself. As I was running, I quickly remembered, thanks to the street closings, that today is the Chicago marathon. People must have thought that I broke free from the pack, that I somehow got off course. But I assure you, I was on course. I was on my course, a mere 3 mile loop around my neighborhood. Nothing compared to the lengths those marathon runners were up against. Maybe I will get there some day, but for now I will stick to what I know. And what I can handle. 

A nice little Saturday...

Today I cannot wait. Mainly because where I am right now, both mentally and physically, deserves an early post to my blog. I don't know what it is about the combination of the things around me, but the calm feeling it gives me is indescribable. My little home has reached a new level of comfort with the recent addition of a brand new coffee pot. It sits in the corner, near the fridge where it belongs. I never thought a small appliance would change the feel of my living space. But now I realize why; it reminds me of being at home, where there is always coffee brewing in the morning. Even if I didn't drink coffee, I would still have this coffee pot to mimic my favorite memories. But I do drink coffee, and I love my new machine even more for this reason. I have also decided in the last few minutes that my next purchase will be a teeth whitening system. With the amount of coffee I will be pumping out of my kitchen in the next few months, I will need something to prevent any signs of it showing on my teeth. I wasn't always addicted. For the few months before my big move, I broke through those caffeine headaches and was living coffee-free. Somewhere during the month of September I willingly picked it up again.  And to be honest, I don't think it's such a bad addiction to have. In fact, let's not even call it an addiction; let's call it a refuge. Beyond the smell of fresh coffee, there is a faint lingering of pumpkin spice, thanks to this candle burning next to me. As far as my auditory senses go, I hear a combination of a few different things. In the foreground is a football game on my TV; the Penn State and Illinois game, to be exact. Although I don't know all the rules of football, I still get enjoyment from watching it. Maybe because it symbolizes the fall season that I love, or maybe it's another one of those things that brings me back to my home growing up. Maybe it's a combination of these and other factors. Regardless, having football on my TV all day brings me joy. I also hear my air conditioner humming. With the temperature reaching 70 degrees in the city today, I had to turn it on to get that chilly fall feeling in here. In a perfect world, the temperature would be 50 degrees and there would be clouds in the sky. But it is not a perfect world, I have learned. 

I cannot help but want a dog. On my way to the grocery store, I walk through the park directly behind my building, and I smile the whole way. Here I see every kind of little furry thing you could imagine; big, small, short-haired, long-haired, you name it. They are all so happy, mainly to escape their little high-rise home for a few hours. But also just to be alive. I have been going back and forth in my head. But the cons seem to outweigh the pros, and I quickly decide that I cannot have a dog right now. As much as I would love a little companion, I simply do not have the time to properly raise a little creature in my apartment. And I'm not sure a dog should be forced to live in a small space anyway. So, I will wait for my own and enjoy watching them in the park instead. 

My cup is empty. And no, that is not a reference to my view on life or anything. Literally, my coffee is gone, forcing me to get a refill (something I can do now that I have a whole pot waiting for me). Today will be a good day, I know that for sure. 

I'd rather walk...

Today I was chewed up, spit out, and left for dead by Chicago's bus system. I shouldn't blame the bus. It was, after all, my fault that I decided to "wing it" on the way home from my internship tonight. I have taken this approach before, but never during rush hour. Which proved to be a bad idea. I had a vague remembrance of which bus I needed to get on, which stop to get off at, and which bus to take from there. Oh, who am I kidding. I knew I needed to go southeast, and that's all I knew. In a situation where I would just pull up the navigation on my phone, I could not. My hands were occupied with my purse, laptop case, and transit card. And a venti regular coffee from Starbucks. Anyway, I simply could not access my phone, bottom line. So there I went, I hopped on the "correct" bus only to find that it was jammed with people just leaving work. Of course it was, it was 5:00. The bus driver does not care if you've got a grip on something, when the light turns green, he goes. So there I was, in this fast moving bus, shoulder to shoulder with strangers. I wish I could have been an outsider watching this can of sardines go barreling down the street, its passengers being thrown against the windows, myself included. After about 4 stops, I decided I was done. I've had enough. I made my way off that bus so fast you'd think someone had pulled out a gun. I didn't care where I was, but I at least had a chance to pull myself together, take out my phone, and decide exactly where I needed to be going. From that fleeting moment off the bus, to the time I walked in my door was a blur. I was a disheveled mess. Next time I take the bus, I will have a plan.  I promise you that. 


Although rush hour is never the most pleasant time to take public transportation, there is something fulfilling about being a part of that rush. As if finishing your day at 5:00 means that you have done good, you have succeeded. Everyone has completed another day, and everyone is eager to get home. And that's where I am now, home. It is just past 8:00. I am in bed and barely keeping my eyes open, as if it were 3 in the morning. There is nothing wrong with that. 

All it takes is a smile...

There seemed to be an unusual theme in the city today. Maybe it's the warmer temperature, maybe it's because tomorrow is Friday, or maybe there is no reason at all. Today I saw an odd amount of courtesy floating around, as if it was normal. As sad as it may be, being polite is not typical here, or anywhere. As I made my way from class to lunch to my apartment and back to class, I was stunned by at least three smiles. From random people I didn't know. Even more shocking was my reaction to them. Naturally, I smiled back; however, for a couple minutes after the encounter I couldn't stop thinking about it. Something so simple and so easy to do. Yet, no one does it, as if they are too busy to move a few muscles in their face. It just amazes me what a simple smile in passing will do. And I not only witnessed others being courteous toward me, I witnessed someone else noticing my politeness. Thanks to my parents, I cannot live my life without saying the accustomed please, thank you, excuse me, etc. You'd think being in a busy city that it would diminish, but no way. As I bustle down the sidewalk I blurt out more "excuse me"'s than I can count, as I did today. And as I made my way forward I heard the woman behind me say "That was nice, you never hear anyone say excuse me". But I did, and I always will. Not only for my own well being, but for the well being of others. You never know what the other person is going through, what kind of day they are having, or where they come from. Although, as previously discussed, I would like to know. But anyway, just smile. It doesn't take much, but it may change someone's life. 

Let's switch gears. Because it's not warm enough to have my air on, I chose to open my windows, as I have for the past couple of nights. This forces thousands of sounds into my apartment, some expected and others not. There is frequent rumbling of trains going through, a mixture between the Amtrak, the Metra, and the L. With that comes the dinging of the railroad crossing warnings and the blowing of the trains' horns. Chiming in every once in awhile is a siren of some kind, never a good sound to hear. Further in the distance is a constant, undefined humming. Maybe it's just the natural sound of the city. Or maybe it's the chocolate factory next door. Yes, I said chocolate factory. And I said next door. With this dangerous gem comes an almost constant aroma of milk chocolate in the air throughout the whole city, but of course most pungent in its direct vicinity. It hits you out of nowhere, filling your nose and lungs with the sweet smell. It's impossible not to close your eyes and smile while this is happening, for me at least. There have been occasions where I have been awaken by the smell of chocolate. Yes, you heard me correctly. I do not exaggerate. I have been sleeping sound in my bed only to wake up with the scent already filling my apartment. This is one of the many reasons I love living where I do. One of the many, many reasons. 

What's your story?

The city moves very fast. Surprisingly not as fast as I expected, but still at a good pace. Some people do walk slow, those that have nowhere in particular to be. But most are walking fast enough to get a good workout. I fall somewhere in between. I often wonder where these people are going and what their story is. I want to know why they're here and what they go home to at night. I've definitely seen every type of person here in the city; every age, race, size, and everything in between. No two people are the same, but everyone has a story. Everyone came from somewhere, everyone is going somewhere. But unless I stop every person on the street, I will never know. I will have to live with that.

Well I've decided I'm going to love Wednesdays, along with every other day of the week. I slipped into a different world today, something I should be used to by now. Today was my first day as a music marketing intern; and I fell in love. Music is something that has always been an escape for me. It takes me away from screaming kids on the bus, it takes me away from boredom and loneliness, and it throws me into a state of bliss. I didn't know, however, that there is a science behind music. But I quickly found out today, and will continue to explore every aspect of it on Wednesdays and Fridays for the remainder of the year. The company I'm interning for is about 6 miles from where I live, unfortunately way too far to walk, forcing me to take public transportation. And once again forcing me to wonder where everyone is coming from and going. I quickly found out that everyone takes the bus; old and young, wealthy and poor, etc. I guess everyone has to get where they're going somehow. As do I. Although taking a bus isn't the easiest (or the cleanest) thing to do, it get's me from A to B, and for that reason I should not complain. 

One thing I have learned from my experience so far...no matter how bad of a day I have, there is always someone who has it much worse. Always. Fortunately, today was a great day for me. For the first time in a long time I feel a sense of pattern and structure. I feel like I'm starting to find myself, although I realize that will still take some time. And I feel a sense of belonging...I belong here, in this realm that I've created for myself. 

Back at it...

The end of another Tuesday is here. I was putting off writing until now, mainly because I wanted to see what the day brought me. Now I realize there is way to much to write about in the short space I am given. Anyway, I am here. Plopped on my bed, once again feeling like a different person in a completely different world. I feel in control, something I was never used to. Every moment that passes gets my stamp of approval, no one else's. This day of mine started at 6:00 AM, which is fine with me. I would much rather start my day early than sleep in and waste time; and if you knew me 5 years ago, I would have said the exact opposite. However, I do enjoy the occasional afternoon nap when I can squeeze it in (luckily, my schedule today allowed for a quick 30-minute snooze after my morning class). All other classes went very well and it seems as though this semester will be challenging, but not so much that it will bring huge amounts of stress. I was extremely pleased with my art class this afternoon. After trying painting about 6 months ago, I've been dying to get back into it. This course will allow for plenty of creativity and gives me an excuse to visit the art supply store, Blicks, to stock up on painting supplies. As you know, I thrive off my creativity. Painting allows me to step into a different place and explore emotions, colors, and senses. This is something that you either get or you don't. I get it. 

My school is not your typical college setting. Being an art institute, creativity is splashed on every wall, in every classroom, and on every person walking through the halls. You can be yourself here without receiving any kind of judgment (except from the fashion design students that think their visibly hand-crafted ensemble is better than the put-together outfit you have on). But for the most part we are all on the same page, we all have ideas and passions that we finally get to explore and we get to view each other's work every single day. After attending a university for a year, I can definitely see why I feel more comfortable at my current school. Here there's no memorization, no yes and no answers, and no generic way of doing things. That's what I like. 

All in all, my Tuesday was fabulous. I did finally chat with Fabio before coming upstairs, explaining to him where I had been for 2 weeks. And now I'm tucked in cozy, listening to the trains move through, feeling a cool breeze coming in the window behind me. I'm ready to end this day and see what tomorrow brings me. I'm ready for anything. 

I'm Home...

It's amazing what a couple weeks away can do. Here I sit, on my comfy bed in my cozy little apartment in the sky. Behind me there is non-stop action and once in awhile I turn my head to witness the movement, gazing as if I've never seen this view before. This little place of mine seems to have had a revelation, much like I have. On the other hand, maybe it's the change in myself that has caused the mood inside these walls to change. When I left here two weeks ago it was merely a place to sleep. It was a place to do my laundry and store my belongings. It was spacious, yet stale. For some reason, as I sit here tonight, I feel an extreme amount of comfort. Although most walls are still bare and things are exactly how I left them, this feels like a completely different place. This is home now, something it hasn't yet been for me. 

My chest has been burning with excitement from the moment I woke up this morning. The time spent at home was much needed, and much appreciated. But it was time for me to get back here. Just as planned, my mom and I drove to Milwaukee where I boarded the train, waving back at her until she was out of sight. On the train, I had one of those moments that you see in movies or hear about and wish would happen to you. I sat there with my headphones on, modern-day Hanson tunes playing softly, but loud enough for me to feel the vibe. As we passed cornfields and small towns, I felt a rush of happiness wipe over me, that feeling I was talking about. I don't think that smile left my face the entire ride. I was in a different, unexplainable world...my world.

Fast forward through the chaos of Union Station, the unpleasant characters waiting near me at the baggage claim, and the typical scenarios you would expect at a train station. I emerge into the center of the city and I climb into the cab that is waiting near the curb for me, telling him where I need to go. Although I've said my address hundreds of times, today I said it with a smile on my face. I felt like a tourist, as I sometimes still do in the city. My head was tilted to see the tops of skyscrapers and my face was nearly pressed against the window (but assuming others before me had done the same thing, I made sure to have no contact with the germ infested window). I giggled to myself, thinking how unreal it is that I actually live here. I am not visiting, I live here. I pay the cab driver as he pulls up to my building. He speeds away to find his next customer, and I make my way through the revolving door, ultimately my front door. The air is fresh and has an aroma of "new" like it always does. My doorman greets me (unfortunately it was not Fabio, but another man that is just as pleasant), and I take the elevator up to the 32nd floor. Sometimes (more often than not), I feel like a little kid. This was one of those times. I sported the biggest grin as I rummaged for my key and hopped over to my door. You'd think it was move-in day, that this was the first time entering my apartment. For some reason, it was better than the first time.

So this is where my blog may take a twist, just as my life has. This week will bring a new set of classes, ones I am very anxious to dive into, the start of an internship at a music marketing company, and the continuation of small happenings that make my life what it is. Now that I am back in my world, anything is possible. I have no barriers between myself and the unknown. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I will soon find out...and so will you. 

Just the way I left it...