Buy your own damn fries

I love love love this. And ok, I am kind of, kind of, kind. of. starting to warm up to Barack too.

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Alternatively, the heat of 15 degrees above zero is a little oppressive. Gawd, make up your mind, Chicago - is this winter or is this WINTER? This whole not having to calculate how many minutes away from death I am the second I step outside is frankly a little dull.

Because the only thing more exciting than going to the grocery store on the corner one block away is going to the grocery store on the corner one block away and being able to legitimately ask, "Will I die doing this?"

Before I moved to a cold-weather place I thought that once the temperature fell below a certain point, it just wouldn't feel any colder. This is wrong.

Snowmageddon

This entire blog has so far consisted of me talking about writing about fashion and style (without much actual writing about fashion and style), the weather and my cats.

Which is lame - sorry - but let me tell you something about the weather in Chicago this past week, or rather, let me make a comment: WHAT THE EFF. Seriously. Snow-dump after snow-dump, a -30 windchill last Sunday (definintively the coldest it's been since I lived here with -26 degrees taking second place), and now rain and 40 degree temperatures! It's like walking in soup out there, and not the good kind like the lobster bisque at the RL cafe. Thanks, Al Gore, for inventing Global Warming.

I really need some of those Hunter all-weather Wellington boots, even though I cannot possibly, possibly justify buying another pair of boots in this economy as I look over at the ten pairs I already own. Ten pairs of boots alone! Six brown (including my Uggs and cowboy boots) and four black. If my family and friends needed more evidence in order to commit me for shopping addiction (which they don't) - all they would need is a picture of all those boots lined up in our foyer. But listen! The Hunters I want are in forest green or burnt orange, so, I'd totally be adding an element that's missing. And they'd have utility. A purpose. Welcome to my inner-monologue.

Anyway, here they are.

One and only one [anything] post

It's a historic night here in Chicago. I'm at home alone - consuming media and a nice glass of wine - while most of my friends are rallying in Grant Park or at house parties.

A friend and I don't agree on everything all the time (except for the ultimate and everlasting suckage of the Blue Devils) but I've really been struggling lately for a succinct way to explain my views and my vote, and he captures them nicely after the jump.

Don't worry. I'll be back soon to posting about the stuff that really matters, like clothes.

http://www.xanga.com/SCVJefe/680050685/one-and-only-one-election-post.html

Also?

I will probably live to regret this statement when it is negative 20 degrees in five months, but I really can't wait until summer is over - football and the fall are calling.

Speaking of Lincoln Square...

...see it featured in Crain's Chicago Business

Fun fact: Alderman Schulter is the owner of Louie, the (in)famous marmalade tabby that haunts our neighborhood and courts Milly and River from the other side of the window. He is known for lounging on strangers' front porches and in their houses and otherwise making himself at home wherever he goes - he is a real Lincoln Square institution.

I heart Lincoln Square

My neighborhood is absolutely gorgeous right now - the huge trees lining my street are bright green and everyone has their lawns and porches filled with flowers and potted plants. I make myself take a few minutes every day just to look at everything and contemplete how pretty it is. My mind is usually racing with work and other thoughts and if I'm not careful, I can make it to the train or run my errands and back without ever lifting my eyes off the pavement in front of me - a crime this time of year in a city that's bleak and barren and essentially uninhabitable most of the time. I don't mean to say, of course, that I don't miss Texas, but this is why I still live here.

(I live in the lesser-known "Lincoln" neighborhood of Chicago: Lincoln Square. The Square is second, of course, to Lincoln Park - the trendy, busy neighborhood immediately north of downtown and crowded with the immediately-post-college set. I used to call Lincoln Park home, actually, when I was attending DePaul and didn't know any better. Granted, there were some beautiful parts of LP, and good restaurants and shopping, but I was over the scene - way over - in about two seconds. Too bad it took me two years to figure that out!)

My little pitch for Lincoln Square and an observation: life is good.

A date, ya dig?

My dress:



















The Event

And my most important accessory? My date, nominated for best director; musical, none other than my boyfriend, the white Usher, of course!