She Likes Purple

Mini-Book Reviews, Part Two

Part one here.

(Spoilers ahead, so proceed carefully.)

Rules of the Road

Elizabeth recommended Joan Bauer on her first quarter book reviews list, but I just didn't love this. I often love Young Adult books, and I really love short books (I like to feel I'm really accomplishing something and short books give me that feeling!), but the lead character felt dull at some parts and just unrealistic at others. I also kind of hate when anyone writes about a certain area in generalities or stereotypes. (Texas, in this instance, as the land of cowboy boots and Big Hair/Cars/Buildings/Whatever, which isn't a flat-out lie, but it made that part of the book feel one-dimensional.)

Water for Elephants*

I loved this book so much, I got goosebumps reading it. I thought the writing was beautiful, the story unique, the love story graceful, and the true heroes of the book -- the animals -- written both magically and realistically.

I didn't love the very, very end, when the old man runs off with the circus again and not because that wasn't kind of full-circle poetic but, come on, that's illegal, right? For this circus manager to take him on the road? The liabilities!

I also didn't much care for just how damn cranky the lead character became during the chapters in the nursing home, but not because that didn't work for the story but just because he was starting to get on my nerves a little bit.

Regardless and in short: my favorite book of the year so far.

What Happened to Goodbye

I picked up this book at BEA -- where I was last week for work -- and it was a quick and enjoyable read, overall. I hear Sarah Dessen, the author, is known for writing teenage dialogue and emotions eerily well, and I just didn't find myself agreeing with that from reading this book (the first and only book of hers I've read, though), but I also hear it's not her best.

There were also a surprising number of typos, which I don't actually mind because I work in publishing, so I get it, but it felt like it was put out in a hurry, and that left me to believe it was written in a hurry, and I think that sort of lined up with my thoughts on the plot feeling disjointed and safe at times.

I thought there was more Dessen could have done with Mclean's (lead character) relationship with her father, her parents' broken relationship, and a could-be love triangle, but none of those were explored (enough).

So, not bad, but not super satisfying either.

***

*Book Club pick

What To Do In Fort Worth: Two-Step At Billy Bob's

I grew up in San Francisco and have a definite liberal leaning, so it might surprise you to know that one of my absolute favorite things to do is go to a dusty, old, hole-in-the-wall bar, order an ice-cold bottle of Bud Light, and either two-step with someone who knows what they're doing (because I most certainly do not), or listen to a country music concert.

I got to do all these things last weekend.

We went to the pretty famous -- at least locally -- Billy Bob's, which is called the largest honky tonk in the world. Admittedly, I'm not even sure what that means, but the place was enormous, so I'm going to go ahead and believe them.

I even dressed like a hussy for the occassion.

That is an awfully short skirt for a nearly-30-year-old mother, I know, and I was more than a little self-conscious, but when we stepped inside the place, there were quite a few (dozens, really) of women much older than me wearing much less, and by much older I mean much older and by much I less I mean nearly illegal.

Honky tonk might just be a euphemism for something else entirely.

(Not that two short skirts make an appropriate wardrobe decision, but I felt better about pushing the dress-for-your-age envelope when I was around people who tore that envelope right up and then gave it the finger.)

Anyway, we were there to see Pat Green, who I was a big fan of back in college and whose music takes me right back to being 19 in that tiny little Texas town, and it was a lot of fun to be swept up in nostalgia for a night.

(If you want to take a listen, my favorite songs of Pat's are: "Nightmare," "Ruby's Two Sad Daughters," "#2," "Here We Go," "Threadbare Gypsy Soul," and "Galleywinter.")

It was a really fun night, and I kind of hope we'll go back, although Mike (not really the country music or two-stepping kind) would like to remind me that my year list made no mention of going twice, so we'll have to wait until 2012.

Summer Experiment

I am about to take off for the rest of the month. I know, that's insane, right? I'm a little tightly wound over it, too, truth be told. Now, I like traveling, a lot, and if a few months go by and I haven't taken a trip -- near or far -- I start to twitch. That's not even an exaggeration for blogging effect, I really do get restless and cranky when there's not an out-of-town overnight adventure to look forward to.

So, a trip to NYC for work (but also for fun) and then a cross-country flight to the Bay Area to see my brother graduate high school is exciting and I am looking forward to nearly everything that's going to happen over the next (gulp) nine days, but my chest tightens at the thought of being gone that long.

It's the longest I've been away from either of my guys.

(Mike has very strict instructions to take no fewer than five pictures a day and to mention me endlessly to Kyle, so he doesn't forget me.)

(I know he won't actually forget me.)

(RIGHT?)

I'm going to try and schedule a few posts to go live next week while I'm gone, so my site doesn't collect too much dust, but no promises. I haven't started my laundry yet and I leave bright and early on Sunday morning.

When I get back, though, I've decided to give up tv for the month of June (except Friday Night Lights, which I live-tweet for work) and I'm also kicking off a 12-week Vegan Experiment.

I plan to visit a doctor at the beginning of my Vegan Summer, to see what all my numbers are and then again afterward to check again. I think that makes the experiment a little more credible and interesting.

(Although come to find out, a lot of champagne isn't vegan. So. Yeah. That's not good news at all.)

You know, after wrapping the Biggest Blogging Loser, I was kind of emotionally drained, and I took a mini-break from challenging myself so I could recover a little bit. (Well, unless you define "challenging yourself" to include a lot of chocolate. If you do, you're my kind of person.) I really do like challenging myself, I like seeing what I'm capable of doing when I put my mind to something, so after an April and May mini-break, I'm ready for a new challenge. 

I also start my half-marathon training in full-force this summer. 

It's so easy to get complacent, and really all these wacky ideas of mine are just ways for me to prevent complacency. To have new adventures and new stories and new experiences, and I think that makes me happier, in the long run.

In the short run, I'm off to research the hell out of "vegan champagne options."

Oh, and hold my kid for a lot longer than he'd prefer because, my oh my, am I going to miss the hell out of him.

Forget Fancy, We Have Fast

We had our rehearsal dinner at the Reno In-N-Out Burger. I was sure it was going to be a big ole disaster. We couldn't rent out the entire place -- or at least we couldn't for $20, which is what I offered them -- and we sure as hell couldn't make In-N-Out unpopular on a Friday night, so we got smart and planned our rehearsal dinner for mid-afternoon, during what we hoped would be a lull in the burger crowds.

It worked. We had 40-or-so people in that In-N-Out, and we all sat more-or-less together and the entire thing cost $200. (Natalie even had seconds!)

(Everyone in this picture was with us.)

After dinner, we hit up Reno for drinks and gambling.

It was a pretty fantastic night, that night before our wedding, so last night, the night before our fourth anniversary, we drove about a half hour to the newest craze in North Texas:

The lines were insane and I would have laughed in the face of all that insanity any other night but last night, when I was full of nostalgia (and hunger). We waited about an hour, in a very well-orchestrated line, and we paid $16 for our anniversary dinner.

Kyle even approved.

(He approved right after he covered his arms in stickers. Obviously.)

My Five Favorite Fabulous Bloggers (Well, Five of A Million)

Thanks to Trop50 for sponsoring my writing about fabulous bloggers. This year Trop50 is granting 50 Fabulous Wishes. Click here to enter for a chance to win $1,000 to celebrate a friend with a refreshing attitude about looking and feeling fabulous!

***

First things first, a little something about this post. I signed up through Clever Girls Collective to write this compensated post about five fabulous bloggers because that just sounded too good to be true. I already write about my favorite bloggers often enough, and I don't necessarily think getting a little money for a little something you already love doing is a bad thing.

(If I could just figure out a way to get paid to nap.)

One thing that was mentioned in the introductory email from CGC was, "How do you define fabulous, anyway?" And I loved that they 1) asked this and 2) acknowledged that the definition could very well change from person to person. I mean, one person's fabulous is another person's acid-washed skinny jeans, right?

How do I define fabulous? Extraordinary people who use their words, emails, notes, texts, posts, smiles, and truths to make things better. They are inspiring, but not necessarily in the vintagey-Instagram photo way, but in the "super decent and kind and hilarious" way.

***

My list!

1. Jonna. Are you reading Jonna? Oh, silly question, of course you are, and of course you know I am since I traveled to the East Coast and stayed with her for nearly a week! (I mean, you don't just up and TRAVEL somewhere and STAY with a blogger unless you think she's fabulous.) But why do I think she's fabulous? Well, a ridiculous number of reasons, but one that stands out is when Mike got some bad news from work about a year ago and it was financially tough on us and emotionally tough on us, and when I vented to Jonna, her response to me was: "Say the word, and I'll get on a plane and help you through it."

She meant that too.

2. Beth. I've never met Beth, actually, although that can't be right? Can it? See, she writes like she's chatting with you, over coffee (or tequila), so I feel we've been chatting for years. I just find her fabulous in that I know she's got normal problems and normal frustrations, but she's not trying to sweep those under the rug. She owns them, she makes jokes about them, and then she writes incredibly about them.

3. Elizabeth. I forgot -- until recently -- that Elizabeth wrote this post for me, as a guest post when I was out of town once. She's not only fabulous because she's clearly a fabulous friend, but because she's just Elizabeth, so grounded, so talented, so honest, and she grows tomatoes and remodels her kitchen and hosts a house full of crazy bloggers and still manages to run a site with me, and sometimes a superhero rockstar woman is just a great reminder that we can all do whatever we want, we just have to shut up already and do it.

4. Natalie. I've met a lot of bloggers and 99% of the experiences have been, well, fabulous, but when I met Natalie for brunch last March and then stayed overnight at her house again this March, I was struck both times by how unbelievably and incredibly kind she is. She's kind in a warm, confident way, and she's also beautiful and ambitious and talented (seriously, take a look at Hazeled, her photography site) and after all that, she'll offer you a bed to sleep in, a glass of wine to sip, and encouragement for whatever it is you're facing.

We live in the same state (admittedly, it's kind of a big state), but if we lived just a little closer, we'd spend an endless amount of time together, I'm sure (I hope!).

5. Hillary. I think Hillary is fabulous for a lot of reasons (she's cool, she's honest, she lives in Vancouver) but I just identify and relate to her in a way that's hard to describe. I see myself in her writing, and I feel like I really get her and what she's trying to say when she writes. (I've probably officially creeped her out by saying all that. Sorry, Hillary!) She also has great post titles, which is not an easy-to-come-by skill, you know?

***

I was asked to pick just five and that was not an easy task at all. I could have picked 50 more, but I went ahead and went with my gut and just wrote about the first five that came to mind. They are fabulous, inspiring, strong women, and, really, they should hear that as often as possible. 

***

Don't forget to enter the 50 Fabulous Wishes contest for a chance to win $1,000 to celebrate a friend with a refreshing attitude about looking and feeling fabulous. I was selected for this Tropicana Trop50 sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity, as I do. I received compensation to use and facilitate my post.

The very strange "fruit" anniversary

Right before Mike, I was left at a bar by a particularly charming man who in between going to the bathroom and refreshing his drink met someone he "had a better connection with."

This was awkward for a couple reasons since he was my date and my ride, but Natalie came and picked me up. (This is one of a million reasons everyone should have a Natalie.) I was sitting on the curb when she pulled up, past midnight, and she then let me stay at her place that night. She said to me, that night and many nights, "your guy is coming, but you have to stop dating these losers until then."

I didn't believe her. I believed I was destined for a lot of things but a good, healthy, loving relationship was not one of them. I even think I was okay with that.

My guy showed up a month later despite what the hell I was okay with.

He's showed up ever since.

He doesn't send me that many flowers. He doesn't take my face into his hands and profess his love or recite poetry. He doesn't smolder the way Damon on The Vampire Diaries does. He doesn't do a lot of things that might make a girl fall all over herself, that might even make that girl back then fall all over herself.

He showed up.

He shows up.

In a million damn ways.

No one on this planet will ever know how grateful I am that he proved me wrong by showing up seven years ago, married me four years ago, gave me a baby two years ago, and kissed me goodnight tonight.

No one on this planet will ever know how graetful I am that he is he at all.

Happy fourth anniversary, babe.

LVS

(Posting this a day early because we celebrate us tonight.)

Me, Elsewhere

1. I shared the tastiest dessert I'm enjoying these days (and, yes, it's a wee bit trashy) over at Food Lush.

2. I'm waffling between sandals to wear this summer. (What say you?)

3. Some travel-related posts: Old Town in San Diego, dine at Island Prime, think Fort Worth for your next vacation (no, really!), how to travel cheaper, and our really fabulous Chicago hotel.

4. Finally, I re-capped the pre-finale episode of The Vampire Diaries (through a top-ten list).

***

(What have you been writing?)

What to Do in Dallas: Eat at The Commissary

I'm off to see Forks Over Knives tonight, a documentary about a plant-based diet and what consuming animal products means for your health and the environment. So, let me post about this delicious, mouth-watering burger now instead of later because later the thought of this burger might make me a wee bit nauseous and/or socially guilty.

THIS BURGER WAS SO GOOD.

(I ate half at lunch and half the next day for lunch, and it was delicious both sittings, which made me love it all the more.)

This burger is from new gourmet burger joint The Commissary, although the prices don't match the menu, which I love. (This burger was $7, which included the shoestring fries.)

I want to go back and try just about every other burger offering, eventually.

I won't go so far as to say it outranks Twisted Root for me, but it was really close.

Hey, thanks!

Thanks to everyone for the nice comments and sweet offers to hunt down those small children to beat them senseless for Kyle. It might not make sense to anyone tuning in late, but that really did mean so much.

Kyle's a sweet kid, but he's not super sensitive (at least, not nearly as sensitive as I am), so when things like The Park Bully Incident of May (what I'm now calling it) happen, he just kind of rolls with it. I try really hard to react similarly because when I do get upset, that's when he gets upset. Do you have any idea how often that child of mine heals me? He inspires me to react better in stressful situations and he can't eve use the toilet yet. Gosh, that's something. (Although it'll really be something when he can do both, am I right?)

This is just a very quick, popping-in-to-say-thanks kind-of post before I collapse in bed after a week of super late nights and emotional trauma on the smalltown playground. Phew, I need a drink! Anyway, there is Water for Elephants on my nightstand and Parks and Rec on my DVR, and even if there are jackass children out there (and jackass parents raising them), there are no jackassess currently in my house, unless you count Molly who got mud all over our couch and didn't offer to help clean it up or even appear to be the slightest bit remorseful. 

But, really, thank you.

You're the best Internet Aunties in the world. Kyle would give you each sloppy kisses if you lived close.

When I Became a Mother

Becoming a mother happens kind of gradually, especially if you're trying to become just that. You finally see the second line and are in a slight state of disbelief on what that even means and it's all very out-of-body and super-surrealy and it keeps on being those things for some time. Now, you're not in denial because it sure feels real as shit when you're up all night with a screaming newborn, but it's just not ONE LIGHTNING BOLT KIND OF MOMENT for us all, at least it wasn't for me.

The other day, Kyle and I went to watch Mike play softball with his work intramural team and a foul ball was hit over the fence and came toward us in the stands. Since I couldn't pause long enough to glance up at the sky for the ball, I just went ahead and DOVE ON TOP OF MY SON to protect his little head from the ball. It was all very instinctual and the rest of the bleachers kind of chuckled because "oh look at that mom protecting her cute kid." But that's just what you do, right? I mean, that instinct has always been there (since I was pregnant and had a slight scare) but I could still never really pinpoint the moment I felt like a true mother.

Until yesterday.

I picked Kyle up from school and got this crazy idea to go to the park. I turned to him and said, "Buds, wanna go to the park?" And he very emphatically said yes. He then went on to say, "I want popcorn but AFTER the park. I want Handy Manny but AFTER the park. I wanna see Molly, Mommy, but AFTER the park, ok?"

So, we went to the park, and he was being adorable and laughing and going down the slide saying, "OH, THAT WAS FUN, MOMMY!" It was a fine decision indeed! He was wobbling across the bouncy drawbridge all by himself, and I was staying close enough to swoop in if he needed help with a potentially neck-breaking task but far enough away to let him roam independently and who cares if the dishes go unwashed another night, this is what's really important!

And then these two boys -- probably 8 years old -- came onto the scene. They started laughing and whispering to one another and walking toward my kid on the bouncey drawbridge. They saw me -- which is what really pisses me off, that they knew what they were doing IN FRONT OF THIS CHILD'S MOTHER -- and then proceeded to walk up next to him on the bridge and jump really high and hard so they could "make the baby fall." (Their words, not mine.)

He did fall and they laughed.

As I began to swoop in to get him (I had to walk up a couple steps on the playscape), the bigger one kicked him (not too hard, but just hard enough) while he tried to stand back up. And then that kid laughed some more.

I fucking saw red.

I deserve a medal for not punting those boys into the parking lot because that's what my instinct told me to do. I remained calm, told them this was a little boy they were picking on and that weren't acting like boys their age should act, and I also didn't think their mothers would be proud of their behavior (their mothers who went on to say it must have all been "a misunderstanding" but that's for another post), and then I picked Kyle up and moved him to another area of the playground.

I had a little talk with Kyle about why I did that, why I moved him away from those boys and why I didn't want him to play with them, and he looked up at me, that beautiful child of mine, and said, "yes, mommy, those boys not sweet," and then he went on to play with something else.

While my heart shattered.

The colic and the Nap Strikes and the teething and the head bonks and the projectile vomiting and all the rest of the Infant Insanity is nothing compared to the first time you witness another human being going out of their way to make your child feel small.

Yesterday, as this whole scene unfolded, I felt like there was only one other person on this planet who would feel what I felt in that moment and that person was Mike. A rush of gratitude for his mere existence came over me in the strongest and realest way. I mean, I am grateful for Mike, always, but yesterday I thought, thank FUCKING GOODNESS for Mike because in this instance he will not beg me to be rational or try to point out the opposite side's point of view. HE WILL SEE RED WITH ME. When I told him the story, hours later after he got home, I saw the red swell up in his own eyes. He said, "I would have fucking lost it."

I don't think those boys were bad kids, and that's not the point of this. I also don't think this moment scarred my own kid at all, he was just fine mere seconds later, but I will never forget what I felt in that moment, the feeling that I was created for one reason: to protect this kid, to let this stubborn, blonde-headed, sweet-eyed little boy know that he would always have someone in his corner.

I've been through a lot with him -- oh, a helluva lot, yes -- but yesterday it was so obvious to me that I went through the last two years and then the twenty-seven years before, so Kyle could have a mother.

And a mother he has.

Belated Anniversary of All These Words

I always, always, always forget this blog's anniversary, and I have no idea why. I love this space more than I can really say. This space that's given me Jonna and Elizabeth and A'Dell (whose new baby I got to hold tonight) and half the members of my favorite Book Club and a guaranteed dinner date in nearly every city I visit and advice and love and laughter and a million more happy things including two sites I may have started but I certainly don't carry alone. In fact, when people ask me for parenting advice I usually say "start a blog!" and then I recommend they send me thank-you notes in the form of booze.

Blogging is a gift you give yourself, if you do it right and for the right reasons. Sure, it'd be fabulous to make a zillion dollars all because you write about your fabulous life and family but that's not all that realistic. (Not to say I'm going to reject anyone who wants to give me that amount of money because they think I'm worth it, not at all. Email me and we'll talk!) But, you don't do it for the promise of fame or riches or you'll always be disappointed.

You do it because sometimes your husband forgets to do the dishes for the NINE THOUSANDTH TIME and you know there's someone out there who will commiserate with you. You do it because your son has colic and you're scared he'll always have colic, so you throw out your desperate need to know you're not alone (and you aren't). You do it because you have a past with hating your body and hating your weight and that hate manifests itself in all sorts of crazy, unhealthy ways and you want to shed all that pain and you only know how to do it through writing.

You do it because you're a mother, and because this is a role you both never knew you could hope for and never stopped hoping for. You do it because you want to remember every inch of motherhood -- the good, the bad, the horrible, the beautiful, the rest of it. 

You do it because you're a wife, and before the baby and the job and the house and the monthly mortgage and monthly menus, you were simply in love, and there will always be a thread of that in everything you do and everything you write about.

You blog because you have to. Your hands start moving before the rest of you catches up. Writing is in some of us the way breathing is in all of us.

So, yes, my blog's anniversary was a couple week's ago, and I meant to celebrate it with more than a belated, much-too-introspective post, but this is me we're talking about. I freaking master the belated, introspective post.

Do me a favor, then, in honor of my Big Fourth Blogging Anniversary: Who is the best friend you've made through blogging? (Feel free to say one or one hundred names. I never judge.) Or, the best thing you've discovered through blogging? The best place you've visited because of blogging. Something good about the hobby, basically. I want to hear it.

If you never comment (or usually don't comment), comment today. I'd really love that. And, more than anything, ever, thank you for reading. Today, tomorrow, four years ago, whenever, just thank you.

Mayfest & Mother's Day

Today was a really glorious day, including a fancy brunch with my own mom, a long afternoon nap, flowers and take-out burgers, but Saturday was a really special kind of day, the kind of day I plan to look back on often, especially on Monday commutes or Friday afternoon conference calls (those should be illegal, but they're unfortunately not). It was just a perfect combination of events that lined up to give me such a sweet and memorable day, including Kyle being oh-my-goodness perfect and Mike ditching plans he had for weeks in order to take me out to do something I really wanted to do, go to Mayfest, a local festival.

We forgot the stroller and had to walk what felt like miles to get to the festival gates, and then what felt like miles more around the festival, and it was hot and super crowded, so I assumed we'd regret the entire thing an hour in, but there was no regret. Just sweet memories, a happy toddler holding tightly to my hand and riding happily on his dad's shoulders, and festival ice cream and snacks to top it all off.

Kyle turned to me, as we boarded a little train to ride around the festival toward the end of the day, and said, "Are you excited, Mommy?"

You have no idea, kid. No idea.

(More Mayfest pictures.)

(I hope every mother out there had a beautiful weekend, too. Full of whatever it is that makes happiest: naps, mimosas, bad tv, festivals with your family, whatever. If you wanted it, I hope you got it. Because you deserve it. We all do.)

Me, Elsewhere

Hiya. How has your week been? Highs? Lows?

So, what I have been up to when it comes to writing around the web? Glad you asked!

1. If you've been reading long enough, you know Kyle is The Boy of a Thousand Co-Pays (only a slight exaggeration). Silver lining to all that: I did actually learn a thing or two after all those viruses and fevers. What I learned and how to handle a sick baby over at North Hills Hospital blog.

2. My new favorite salsa at Food Lush (a Fort Worth company, too).

3. A really great Italian restaurant find in Dallas. So delicious and so cheap.

4. At Style Lush, I encourage you to love what you wear.

5. My travel-related posts: My five favorite hotels in Vegas (for walking through); my love for Wrigleyville and the Cubs; my plans to run the Rock N Roll half-marathon in Vegas for my upcoming 30th birthday; the best meal we had in Chicago: Tango Sur; and a few must-eats on the island of St. John. (Comment on all, please!)

6. My first post is up at C-Squared's new blog.

Happy weekend to you!

More Blathering Details!

Ages ago (feels like) we announced the glorious news that my home state is hosting this year's come-one-come-all blogging extravaganza known as The Blathering.

Well, we have more updates for you. (Go check those out!)

Austin is fabulous, and I think you'll love it.

Do you know that nervous feeling you get when you aren't sure if you should attend something because maybe you don't know that many people or you aren't positive you're really wanted there. Yeah, this is not that event. You're wanted. You're absolutely invited. And I can almost guarantee there will be drunken country music karaoke. I'm sorry, but how you can resist buying a plane ticket this instant is beyond me.

Less than six months!

My Little Guy

Oh, hey, how adorable is my blond-headed little guy?

(We don't often encourage the licking of one's fingers after Molly licks them around our house, but, you know, it was a Friday evening, after a long week. Judgment-free zone, k?!)

BUT, SO ADORABLE, RIGHT?

I am sometimes surprised when people don't fall all over themselves to talk about Kyle and how smart and perfect and cute he is. I'm all BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIM? And then I remind myself that the way I think of that random kid in Target who totally cut me off and won't stop randomly hollering about pretzels is probably how most people think of Kyle. I am his mother. It's probably a good thing if I'm the one who thinks he's the coolest of them all, you know? (Oh, and I totally do.) 

There is something to be said, though, about becoming a mother in that I surprisingly don't love children, in general, any more than I used to. Oh, there are some kids I think hang the moon and love being around, and I'd babysit any of my friend's kiddos any day of the week, but my own child hasn't made me anything other than his mom.

I'm not this all-perfect, maternal person now. I'm just this normal, kind-of-messed-up woman who has a son she looks at every single day and thinks, Well, someone sure thought highly of me, didn't they? To give me you.

I don't think I'm alone in thinking that about my own kid. I also don't think I'm the first person to be right.

We Went To Chicago A Million Years Ago

Did we go to Chicago? It almost feels like we didn't. Did I make it up? I have all this vacation weight hanging around my waist and hips, so I'm nearly certain we did go somewhere, but it's been so long and there is no post to prove it. I'm so confused.

(WAIT! THERE ARE FLICKR PHOTOS! THAT MEANS IT HAPPENED!)

Ok, ok, Chicago was fantastic. I know you were holding your breath for that statement and now you can exhale. (Oh, you weren't? Awkward!)

Chicago was also, sadly, cold. We had one glorious, sun-filled day and THANK THE GOOD LORD that was the day we picked to go to the Cubs game but the rest of the time there was a lot of rain, a lot of biting wind, a lot of looking out the hotel window and tossing ideas back and forth only to curl up in bed and order room service instead.

Which, come on now, was not such a bad consolation prize.

Just how chilly and cold, you're wondering. I mean, you're from Texas. Well, the last day we were there, we walked from our hotel to the Shedd Aquarium (roughly a couple miles) and it was 39 degrees outside.

I looked like this upon arrival:

COLD!

But then I think back on all we did and we did a helluva lot for being there only three-ish days and for having a hotel bed we could have always opted for.

We ate pizza!

Gino's East. I can't stop thinking about this pizza, I loved it so. But, Mike asked upon its arrival: "Uh, why is the sauce like that?" (He doesn't read enough food blogs.)

We went to Wrigley Field.

And it was just as ridiculously awesome as you'd expect. It's what all baseball experiences should be, but too few are.

I day drank at the Cubs game as if you had any doubt.

And they won, so, you know, now I have to toss back an Old Style every single time they play. FOR THE STREAK, NOT ME.

We went on an awesome architecture tour.

We drank at the Signature Lounge, atop the Hancock Building.

The view!

We also saw The Bean. In the rain!

We were also, and this one is important, staying across the street from:

We bought orange juice! And hummus! And croissants! And cheap champagne! And the nice cashier asked where we were from after we oohed and ahhed about being in a Trader Joes and she said, "Texas? Oh, I heard we're coming to you soon!" And then we Googled like MAD and couldn't find a thing and were all, THAT LIAR but look! She wasn't lying! (She just knew before Texas did and we could have broken the news and didn't and AH, I COULD HAVE BEEN FANCY GROCERY STORE FAMOUS!)

(I'm sorry, but I'm done saying bad things about Texas. In N Out and Trader Joes in the same year? Yeah, I'm good here.)

We did have such a good time, though, truly, and the Chicagoians (that doesn't look close to right; is it?) were just warm and welcoming and lovely. The city is clean and beautiful, the history incredible, and the food amazing (we had dinner at Tango Sur one night, and Mike would like to start a blog of his own just to write about the steak he had.)

Most of the good Chicago feelings are from experience but it's also possible we were told by the local news as we lounged in bed with the heat on.

  

Next vacation: THE SUN!