Like any good Chicagoan, I am fiercely proud of my city and all of the traditions which that entails... all, that is, except deep dish Chicago pizza.
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Pie-off
Like any good Chicagoan, I am fiercely proud of my city and all of the traditions which that entails... all, that is, except deep dish Chicago pizza.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Chicago Top 10
A travel website called 10Best, said the top 10 places to go to in Chicago are:
In theory creatig a top 10 of general places to visit in Chicago is near impossible, I would have a top 10 of Chicago bars (first and foremost obviously), then a top 10 of places for teenagers and young adults to hang out, a top 10 for middle aged people, a summertime Chicago top 10, a wintertime Chicago top 10, a "I'm bored, what is there to do in Chicago" top 10, a Chicago top 10 if you just moved to the city, and the list goes on. Now you can see how this might be rather overwhelming, but I will try to do my best to come up with my own general Top 10 for my home town. Let me also note just how pleased I am that Wrigley field is
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Cubs vs. Sox
The sports in Chicago and the rivalry between sports fans that follow different teams is unlike any other that I've ever witnessed. Many would argue that this intense tension between differing fans should be considered obsolete due to the fact that in the last few years certain Chicago sports teams, of course the ones of which I am a die-hard fan of, have been, shall we say slipping in ranks. The tension in Soldier Field when the Chicago Bears play the Packers or even the Colts, or during the Cross-Town Classic, a day that rivals the excitement of Christmas for me, when the Chicago Cubs take on the Chicago White Sox. Typing the name of the Sox makes my fingers ache. I will forever be a Cubs fan. I will be the 90 year old at a game at Wrigley Field in head-to-toe Cubs paraphernalia with a huge, blue, foam finger. My hope is that my only difficulty as my much older self will be which Cubs World Series winning t-shirt I will have to wear...hey a girl can dream can't she. The Cubs have broken my heart, left me bruised after their recent 7 game losing streak, and kicked me while I'm down by having some of our best players on the disabled list. But for as long as I can remember, I have loved the Cubs. I pranced around in my Sosa uniform as a little kid, my Kerry Wood signed glove as a teenager, and my Derek Lee jersey as a adult. The Cubs hold a place in my past, present, and future love of sports and I can only hope there are actual winning seasons in my future with them. And while I'm hoping the best for my Cubbies, I hope to watch the White Sox fans weep over their victory. This sounds rather harsh I realize, but for any Cubs fans who lived in Chicago during the 2005 World Series, they will understand. Enduring the celebration and smack talk from these fans made my already Cubby-blue bleeding heart even worse. It's time for restituion and compensation from these delightfully colorful, fans clad only in cutoff sleeves and jeans with holes in them, and armed with their white lawn furniture and Pabst Blue Ribbon. And we will get it, hopefully in my lifetime.
Not such a California girl after all
I spent most of my time growing up in Chicago, Illinois dreaming of being other places; dreaming of the warm California sun, the beaches, chill people, beautiful moutains. I wanted to get away from the frigid winters, face-paced lifestyles, and the violence and crime. So after graduating from high school, I took all of the things that I'd grown to hate about Chicago, fueled my application to Santa Clara University with my love for California, was accepted, and left Chicago, for what I thought and hoped would be for good. Now, I don't plan on bashing California in this post, don't mistake me. I love California. I enjoy the strip malls lining the streets, the overpriced shopping, the girls with bad spray tans, the boys with too much gel in their hair, the ability to wear shorts in January. I've always loved everything about California, and that hasn't changed since living here. However, what it has done is given me a completely new appreciation of the place where I grew up. Chicago will always be my home. I have dreams of walking my children down the Magnificent Mile on Michigan Ave. and having picnics in Millenium Park and working at the tippy-top of one of those amazing skyscrapers. I have dreams of running along the lakefront with my best girlfriends, attending swanky parties on the Gold Coast, taking my lunch break by the Chicago River. I have dreams of being close to my family that lives there, of maintaining my friendships that I've had since I was learning to talk, and of being happy. All of these dreams for me, occur in one place; it's a place with frigid winters, face-paced lifestyles, and violence, but it's my home.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
I miss...
deep dish pizza, the warm sun, the first snowfall, the Sears Tower poking through the morning fog, Giordano's, Johnnie's, Pizzeria Uno, Fox Park, Oak Park Avenue, dancing in grant park, climbing trees, sailing,
people watching, my mom's cooking, Wells St., Cubs games, openly hating the White Sox (I still hate them but no one in California cares), the damp grass, making the first footprints in the snow, the Ridgeland Park sledding hill, the Roosevelt swings, Ashland, the heat on in my car with my window open in the dead of winter, "sweatshirt weather," my dad singing Frank Sina
tra, learning the art of beer pong at age 12 from my 21 year old cousin Danny, Gina's wedding, Aunt Chickie, Aunt Hardie, the fact that everyone knows my name, the accents, the bright lights, summer thunderstorms, the green river, my friends, the diversity, the north shore, Lake Shore Drive, Sheridan Road, the waiter at Dick's Last
Resort, scavenger hunts, the sketchy neighborhoods, places being referred to as villages, hot dogs being called red-hots, mustard, ketchup hatred, Salerno's, my pool, cake-baking, Katie's basement, Eileen's Marengo apartment, Mary Kate's abbreviations, my p-9, Duthaler's trampoline, my doggy, my bed, tubing, Lollapalooza, false unconformity, hipsters, good music, real people, Ed Debevic’s, exploring, skyscrapers, road-raging, 5th Avenue beach, city sunrises, stalking Oprah, the Taste of Chicago, the Jazz Festival, block parties, the honesty, the love, and the respect of my friends and family in the best city in the whole wide wide world.
I don’t really care that what you just read doesn’t really mean much of anything to any of you. I’m sure most of you feel like you’re on the outside of an inside joke. In fact, that
is precisely what I wanted you all to feel; that memories like the ones I’ve shared with you are, not only possible, but can happen for you in Chicago. My friends and I all have this pact that when we’re on our way back to Chicago on some school break from our respective parts of the country, that we have to listen to the song “Homecoming” by Kanye West. There is nothing in the world like this city and nothing in the world that holds the same love that I have for it.