Men

Well, after a series of events that I will most likely share at a future date (or right now), I have come to the conclusion that I will marry a man with either black or brown skin.

I wish I had known this earlier in life, as it appears I have wasted years thinking white men liked me. But they don't. Of course, how was I to know? The states I have lived in (California, Utah, Idaho) all have a strong white boy presence, and not a lot of black or brown to get any good research done.

Anyway, you may wonder how I have come to this conclusion. It's simple: White men NEVER talk to me, while brown and black men frequently talk to me, frequently check me out, and frequently hit on me and try to get my number.

This realization began about two months ago. (I should have known for much longer, but I suppose the absence of dates with white men wasn't a red flag for me, I just figured the right white man hadn't come along yet. I've got a news flash for me: He's not coming.)

I was living with Wendy in my summer home and I was on my way to work on a Saturday. I left her place, hit the main road, turned right to head one block to the bus stop when I felt that maybe someone was behind me. A quick glance showed a big black guy in a blue polo shirt, baggy jeans, and white un-laced sneakers walking a half a block away.

No big deal.

I reach the bus stop and sit on the bench. I get out my phone to track the bus. (FYI, you can text the stop's code to BusTracker, and they will text you back the next two arrival times for all buses at that stop.) I hit send and the guy in the blue polo shirt sits down on the opposite side of the bench.

Stranger Danger Choice: Keep phone out so as to appear busy and not open for conversation; put phone away so he can't see it's an iPhone and choose to mug me.

I keep my phone out.

He looks at me, and asks, "Does this bus go to the blue line?"

Well, that answer is tricky, cause it stops one blockish away from the blue line, and you have to follow the diagonal street until you hit Western Ave, and then cross the street to get to the entrance.

I explain, in a rather poor form. Then we stop talking.

He says, "How long till this bus gets here?"

"Well, bus tracker said 5 minutes, but I think it's been longer than 5 minutes."

"That's Chicago for you."

"Yeah, right? Sometimes they can be accurate, I think." (I really don't think all the buses are on weird timetables, I just think some routes are wonkier than others and I really didn't agree with his sentiment that all buses in Chicago are late, but I tried to keep it in.)

"So did you grow up here?"

"No."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Out West." (Even though I know they won't know where Atascadero, CA is, and that my hometown is safe from the strangers I meet, I still like to be wildly vague so as not to give people any ideas of where they can find my family to rob or kill them. Chicago has toughened me.)

"Oh, really, where?"

(Dang it. I can usually proclaim being a westerner and all inquiries stop. I don't know what they are afraid of, but usually people choose not to ask follow up questions about the West.)

"California."

"Well that would explain your accent."

(For the record, this guy didn't have an accent, and I also feel like I have a certain way of speaking that is in no way an indicator of my homeland.)

"Oh yeah, you think so? Where did you grow up? Did you grow up here?"

"Well, I was born here but I grew up all over."

(Further inquiries proved him to be in a military family, and he listed countries of residence that I can no longer remember.)

He then asks me, "Have you been in this neighborhood long?"

"Um, about a month. I just moved over here, but I like it pretty well. It seems like a cool place."

"Yeah, have you been to the Puerto Rican festival yet?"

"No, but I had some awesome street meat a few nights ago."

(Street meat= Meat cooked out in the streets. Guys buy BBQ carts, then set up shop on a street corner for a day or two and sell meat. I had a kebab. It was really good. Side note, a black guy who was there walked up to me while I was waiting for my meat to cook. He says, "Hey, do, uhh... do I know you?" I looked at him and was certain I had never met him before in my life. I say, "Oh, I don't think so, you don't look familiar." And he says, "What's your name?" I answer him and he says, "Ah, I think I was getting you mixed up with someone else." And he puts out his hand and says, "My name's Black." -seriously-and I shake his hand and now we have officially met.)

Back to the bus bench.

"Yeah, I was thinking of maybe going to the festival sometime."

He pauses," My name's Jeremiah. What's yours?"

I tell him.

He smiles and says, "Myriah and Jeremiah, that kind of rhymes."

Ha, yup, they kind of rhyme. I'm sorry you're nervous and have to say things like that.

Out loud I say, "It's nice to meet you."

He asks, "So, uh, do you have a significant other?"

Sigh. To lie or not to lie. Which is best? I can never decide, but truth is always my fall back, so I choose not to lie.

"Nope, I do not."

As with every answer, truthful or not, I must be prepared to answer any subsequent questions.

He says, "Well, can I get to know you better? Is there any way I can contact you, like a phone number or something?" He looks at my phone.

Crap. I really appreciate that he is interested and that he is doing something about it, but I am not interested, and I don't want to lead him on, but I want to be kind.

I end up saying, "I don't... think... so... But you are really nice." (What the heck was that response? I don't even know.)

Jeremiah says, "Alright, I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable."

"No, you were fine."

And then he starts talking about the weather.

Thankfully, the bus comes. I stand up. He stands up. I walk to the bus doors and he stays still. I look back at him and he says, "I just wanted to make sure you got on the bus okay." And I smile, thank him, and tell him it was nice to meet him, and that was it. I got on the bus and he walked back the way he came.


And that's when it hit me: No white guy has ever or likely will ever go out of his way like that to try and get my number. And, obviously, you don't marry men who don't have your number.

Tony's

I LOVE Tony's. 

I am continually pleased with my experience there. 

My original guesses were all sorts of wrong. 

The produce is amazing. Tony must have a hook up or something, but this is the best produce I've found in Chicago. It's really good. And I don't mean to brag or anything, but my produce quality expectations are high seeing how I grew up in California. But Tony, that guy delivers. 

I even found rhubarb there the other day. 

Tony's is ideal for my favorite dinners: tacos and tostadas. 

They had multiple packs of tostada shell thingies to choose from, Queso Fresca within easy reach, and more chorizo than I could shake a stick at. 

I love it. 

Also, Tony has two red boxes out front. 

TWO.

New Digs

It is sickly hot this morning. April, May, and June were full of wondrous springtime and summer delights, but July is just making me sweat. Interestingly, auto correct thought I meant "swear" instead of "sweat" and auto correct may be on to something there. I'm trying to figure out when exactly one will start to sweat, and I think it is a complicated formula based on how hot it is, the amount of energy you exert, and if you are suppose to look nice that day. Usually that's when you will be sweating the most.


I'm currently taking shelter in the shade of TONY'S, which, as far as I can tell, is the premier grocer in the area. I don't know for sure because I'm new. Just moved to Logan Square yesterday. I love trying out new neighborhoods, and I really love to know that I live IN that hood, rather than on the fringes or in a neighborhood no one has ever heard of before. I kind of feel like a sell out with those reasons jeez. The only thing that keeps me feeling better about that is the simple fact the Logan Square is the land of the hipsters. The true true true hipsters are moving south, of course, but people like me can be comfortable in Logan.

As I stand at the bus stop, I see three old ladies with their carts and bags, fresh from a shopping trip to Tony's. Obviously, this must be THE place to shop over here. I can't wait to go in! I wonder what it holds. It is large, the size of a full city block. That is huge for A Chicago neighborhood. Usually no-name grocers are three quarters the size of the smallest CVS you've been in.

Anyway, here are my predictions for the inside of Tony's:

1) Huge liquor selection. Think average college town store.

2) Fabulous pastries. The last time I went to Wendy's market I came back with fresh churros. I think that can be repeated at Tony's.

3) Weird cuts of meats. Think crazy stuff, stuff you wouldn't dream of, except maybe that kid in Where the Wild Things Are, because I'm guessing there is probably some wild beast for sale at the butcher counter inside of Tony's.

I'll report back.

Berry Berry Kix

I have waited years for this moment. My last memory of Berry Berry Kix was approximately 1994-1995, when they simply disappeared from the grocery store shelves. I loved Berry Berry Kix. Somehow, mother let me have them even though I'm certain sugar was one of the first three ingredients. And I became hooked. 

Every time I accompanied mother to the store I'd ask if I could get Berry Berry Kix. She always said yes, and I would skip gleefully over to the cereal, pick it up, and hug it on my way back to the cart. 

One day I was skipping over to the cereal and I couldn't find my Berry Berry Kix. They were simply... gone. Not even an empty place on the shelf for them. Just, gone. 

For weeks, then for months, I would haunt the cereal aisle, hoping they would come back, and they never did. BUT, everything changed yesterday morning. 

I was cruising around on my social networking sites, and someone had posted a pic of Berry Berry Kix.  SAY WHAT?!! I freaked out. I contacted the poster every way I knew how. That fool didn't respond. Obviously he didn't know how important this was to me. 

I got Wendy on the case, and she found a shipment at the Target in our neighborhood. I left work immediately to secure my own boxes of Berry Berry Kix. 

My joy was full. I was so happy!

I was freaking out with happiness so much that I had a hard time not shaking the camera for these photos. 

And, it was good. But, not enough berry flavor.

This is not the same item from years ago. This is that item: http://www.amazon.com/Kix-Berry-Cereal-11-3-Ounce-Pack/dp/B001M1V87A

I miss that item. I have waited years for this cereal, and I was so excited when I finally got it, however a little disappointed after I finally spent some time with the cereal. I imagine that is what a man feels like after he lands the lady of his dreams and she's not as awesome as he thought she would be. 

Anyway, here I am with a slightly shattered dream. But I'll pick myself up and carry on. I always do. 

November Odds and Ends

Apparently, November 2011 was packed with fun. Or something. Maybe I was just busy avoiding a roommate who I kinda hate and smells really bad. Shrug shoulders. Anyway, like last year, we made turkeys again for FHE~

Also in November I became very serious about Words With Friends. Thank you iPhone, for helping me to be a little more distracted. 

Also, I got a new babysitting family. They live on Randolph and have a rad view of downtown and the Pritzker Pavilion and such.

Ah, one update, 8 months later, done. Let's see what else I have in my drafts folder.

The Avengers

It's really no surprise I was bored watching The Avengers. Why would I like it? It's not my style, I'm not invested in the characters, and it was long.

I did decide to appreciate it as much as possible, and help out the nerds, so I laughed loudly when appropriate. I could tell though, that some of the nerds in the audience simply didn't know when something was funny, as I was basically the only one laughing.

I contemplated napping, but I was strangely well rested, so I just kind of looked around and waited for the next funny part to come along. But really, it. Was. So. Boring.

This is the type of thing I would usually post to facebook, but I didn't want to cause any heart attacks, and I think people are tired of me expressing my non-nerdy opinions.

As bored as I was, I did appreciate all the eye candy. That wasn't bad at all.

A Regular

In an effort to stick it to the stupid 7-Eleven man and also make healthier choices, I've decided to give up my morning taquitos. The thing about the taquito is that it is super easy to pick up and consume in the morning, and they keep me nice and full till lunch time, a problem I've had my whole life.

Well, a few weeks ago when I got sick, I needed to make tea purchases. So, in the morning I would start going to Argo Tea and pick up a food item as well. They have these amazing muffins that keep me full till lunch time, which I'm all about. It suddenly hit me that they must be a million calories, so the next day at Argo I checked, and indeed, they are rolling somewhere between 350-500 cals. Sigh. That would explain the full factor.

But that's not the point. The point is that today when I asked for a small Rooibos Chai, she said, "Wait, have you tried that Green Rooibos Vanilla, it's our special today. I offered it to another regular this morning and she really liked it."

What? I'm a regular?

I had no idea. I don't even know if I've ever been a regular anywhere before. I don't even know how I feel about this.

I said, yes, I would like to try the Green Rooibos Vanilla, with almond milk, and make that a Teappuccino. Oh, and can I get a chocolate croissant? Thanks.

It was delicious.

Rebecca Minkoff Mini M.A.C

My new neon pink bag came today! I'm so excited. Naturally we had a little photo shoot. Welcome to my life, little neon bag. We are going to be very good friends. I'm excited for all our summer adventures!