Sneaky

Love is sneaky.

After months of trying to figure out new places to go, new ways to meet people, new ways to catch that guy with the dogeared copy of Crime and Punishment's eye. Agonizing over another night in Boystown where you will not be meeting any tall, muscley, book-loving Colts fans with real jobs, another overtime shift, another Friday night of laundry and wine, baking cupcakes for happy coworkers -- simple singleness, slightly settled. Very set in one's ways.

And all of it's fine. There are nights where you twirl down the street in the snow with your best friends, thinking life can't possibly get any better than these starry lit nights where your breath swirls in the breeze with snowflakes and Lady Gaga running circles in your head, walking home on the always alive streets of Chicago. Nights with so much laughter you cry. Nights that are nothing but trouble trouble trouble, stories to tell to entertain adoring fans and captive audiences.

And since life can't get any better, you start to do the same things. Musical Monday, New recipe on Tuesday, Trivia on Wednesday, Class, Homework, Gym, Work, Laundry (lots of laundry). And as quickly as everything became eclipsed by the terrible, happiness creeps in. With no parade, no hoopla, it's there.

And then, on some random night after some lengthy day of procrastinated grad school final writing when plans you had fell through and you end up at the second most likely place you'd ever be found in Boystown on a Monday night, when you least expect it, when you aren't desperately searching for it, when you are just being yourself and drinking the purple pitcher special at Roscoe's, everything changes.

And such a lovely-unexpected-fireworky-sunny-day-in-the-middle-of-a-week-of-thunderstorms-lucky-beautiful-take-your-breath-away-amazing-ninja-out-of-nowhere change, it is. You know, in that, I'd be so annoyed and disgusted if this were anyone else kind of gross way.

Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky.

Thanks Lisa

Dear Lisa,


Thanks for helping me start over and figure out a plan for getting re-railed instead of de-railed.


Love,
me

Sunshine

The onset of Spring in Chicago has this incredible effect in improving the morale of the entire city. Maybe it's the way the sunshine glints off of Lake Michigan or the countless perfect picnic places or the fact that for the first time in months stepping outside the door does not mean one will be greeted with vicious wind ripping at frozen snot and eyelash-cicles. (God knows, it's not the Cubs starting another season.) For me, it's all about the sunshine. Sundresses, sunburns, sunglasses. Shadows, sunsets, desperately romantic dusky strolls. It makes me want to be seriously irresponsible. On any given sunny day, I'm about a minute and a half from making a break from whatever it is I'm doing that's more important than being outside and fleeing to the beach or park or just to roam the streets with the sun warming my face. I want to be grilling kebabs and applying sunscreen and sipping sangria without any responsibilities to tend to. I want to ditch work, ditch homework, kiss in very public places, do something a little bit reckless for once. Mmm. I can't wait for Summer.

Thanks Erica

Dear Erica, Thanks for being willing to make the most of our weird mid-week weekend schedule. I'm glad you appreciate the benefits of sunshine, cute animals, and drinking Long Islands at noon. I think this Tuesday day off adventure was the start of a something very very beautiful. And next time, maybe we should go for the whole pint instead of the half. See you in Admissions on Thursday! Love, Ashley

Thanks Taylor

Dear Taylor, I try not to thank people two days in a row, but I think materializing on my doorstep with a tomato and feta pizza and cans of Half Acre Gossamer with lemon knots for dessert definitely merits a thank you note. I could not have been happier that YOU were my pizza guy and that I got to snuggle up with you for the evening an entire day earlier than expected :) You are kind of the most adorable person I know. Love, me

Thanks Taylor

Dear Taylor,

Thanks for wandering into my life and sweeping me off my feet when I could not have been expecting it less, when I was gloomy and frazzled and tired and ready to throw in the towel when it came to the entirety of the male species. Rachel classified you as a genus Knight in Shining Armor, and it seems you have a knack for saving the day, for saving smiles that are threatening to turn, for saving glimpses of calm in a sea of anxiety-riddled activity. I'm over the moon about your seriousness in studying, your smile, your never ending wonderfulness and wonder over the little things in life that make you happy. And your pancakes. Your pancakes and turkey sandwiches and pasta rock pretty hard. I get too busy being excited about the next time I'm going to see you to focus on how much I'm missing seeing you when we're busy. In short, I'm awfully glad I went to Roscoe's and I'm even more glad you made it your mission to convince me you were a gentleman. And don't get me started on the little flutter in my heart or the fireworky breathless moment after a kiss. You could not be more adorable, more magnificent, more welcome. Thanks.

Love, me

Thanks Vanessa

Dear Vanessa,

Even though you are far away, thanks for listening to my triumphs and tribulations, big and small. Thanks for letting me gush about this guy and whine about that thing that happened and work and for listening and caring and loving me with your whole entire heart, while your heart is residing a thousand or so miles away :) I miss you everyday.

Love, me