Ramble Ramble

This past weekend, N.C. and I boarded a jet plane and flew off to Chicago for a belated anniversary trip (thanks to some airline ticket vouchers and Priceline) that was a sorely needed break from the “real world.” For four whole days, we were without email, blogs, twitter, facebook, anything. It was really nice to just…be. We took our time exploring, took it easy, and just enjoyed the city and each other.

We got to stay in an amazing hotel (The Palmer House Hilton), which is apparently this big, fancy, extremely well known historical hotel. Once again, Priceline Roulette doesn’t let us down! Seriously though, we booked the hotel through the name your own price feature on Priceline and got an amazing steal on this great hotel. The rooms were a little small, but the hotel is something like 90 years old, so we’ll cut them some slack. I only wish we had gotten some pictures of the absolutely amazing ceiling in the lobby!

Because of the whole preganacy thing, we took this trip pretty easy, doing one “big” thing per day every day we were there. We had to limit our walking more than we normally would have (thanks to super swollen feet and the slow pregnant woman waddle), but I still think we hit a lot of the big points of downtown Chicago. Of course we hit up “The Bean” the first day we were there.

A friend of ours had tried to explain this odd sculpture to us before, but honestly, until we were there looking at it, we didn’t get the uniqueness. The reflection of the city in this oddly shaped sculpture is pretty striking.

People take pictures of themselves in the reflection of The Bean, since it is basically a giant mirror. We did too, but apparently we stood in front of the portion that had just had a milkshake thrown at it (in other words, the shot didn’t really come out), so this will have to do. But of course, as anyone who has seen The Bean knows, it’s really the experience that’s trippy. You can walk through the middle of the sculpture, and get right up close to it, and it’s all very bizarre, and cool, but no photos really do that experience justice.

Just in case you need proof that we were there–here’s a photo of me with The Bean in the background (and a reflection of the city in my sunglasses–that’s kind of a cool shot!). After this, we did a whole lot of touristy & cool stuff like:

• go see a man about the blues (and some cajun food!) at Buddy Guy’s Legends
• do the double-decker city tour (always a great way to see a city, even if it’s the most touristy thing imaginable)
• have Chicago dogs at Portillo’s
• go see some jazz at Andy’s Jazz Club
• enjoy a day at the Art Institute of Chicago
• have dessert (me) and cocktails (N.C.) in the fancy lobby of our historic hotel
• snarf down some deep dish pizza at Pizzeria Uno (the original)
• check out the art and a mid-day concert at the Chicago Cultural Center
• Plus we did lots of sleeping, napping and relaxing!
• And, as a special bonus, I got the joy of a personalized tour of Chicago bathrooms, thanks to the little man hanging out on my bladder most of the trip.

While we were there, we also got to enjoy glimpses of crazy hordes of soccer fans (Honduras vs. the US, and I swear there were probably 100 Honduras fans for every US fan we saw. It was insane) and bits of the Gospel Music Festival. All in all, it was a really fantastic weekend. I’m glad we made the time to do this trip, both as our anniversary celebration and as a pre-baby vacation. It was nice to spend time together, enjoying a new city with each other. I’m always reminded of how lucky I am that N.C. and I enjoy each others company so much–we make good travel partners! And it was nice to have one last special trip that’s “just us” before our lives completely change in a few months. Even though I’m sure we’ll travel without kids in the future, we’ll be different, in a different kind of world, so it was nice to have one last fling in this non-baby universe.

Ah, three day weekends. So glorious, yet the return to the “real world” is always tough.

We had a fantastic weekend, full of productive things, relaxing things, and general goodness. There were trips to the beach, and plants bought, and baby things discussed, and friends we hung out with, and coveted items purchased. Oh, and plenty of good food was eaten as well.

I think what I love about weekends like this one is that feeling that it was productive but not a whirlwind, busy but not insane, relaxing but not lazy. We accomplished many things this weekend, but we also enjoyed ourselves. Somehow it seems harder to do both with only two weekend days!

A few random tidbits from the weekend:

• I officially don’t care that I look and move like a beached whale when I’m at the beach. I do, however, wish I could lay on my stomach.
• Apparently, I married a gardener, something I’m not sure I would have ever expected when we first got together so many years ago. It was so cute to see his face light up like a kid in a candy store when we went to the local gardening center.
• I am a person who covets THINGS. I want things, so many things, and so many things that cost money. I’ve never been a spender when it comes to clothes and shoes and the like, but sadly the things I covet tend to cost more than those items anyway.
• My list of “foods I’m going to enjoy thoroughly once this baby arrives” haunts me. In general, most things are fine in moderation, but there are some just flat out no-nos, and of course, those are the things I want.
• The new Terminator movie is really, really silly. And that’s a nice word to use.
• It’s a shame when a restaurant with good food is marred by bad service. Or weird servers who are bad at their jobs.
• I really love weekends!

This holiday is totally kicking my ass. I feel like everything sort of rushed up and caught me off guard about this Christmas, and even though I have my Christmas shopping 99% done, I’m still kind of overwhelmed by it all.

Add to that a general lack of Christmas spirit, and it’s been a weird holiday for me. I’m not normally this bah-humbugy. And frankly, it’s kind of bothering me.

So last night, I made N.C. take me to the San Diego Wild Animal Park to check out their Festival of Lights (courtesy of passes from the darling Single in San Diego, who is no longer in San Diego). This is the last year that the park is having this event, so it was a double win–a last chance opportunity for something kind of cool, and something to hopefully kick start my holiday cheer.

For anyone who hasn’t ever been to or heard of the San Diego Wild Animal Park, it’s a different kind of zoo. Most of the animals have enormous enclosures to run around in rather than a typical cage. There’s a whole area where giraffes and rhinos and gazelles and the like wander freely over about a 2 mile “enclosure”. A 3 acre area for the African elephants. 2.5 acres for Asian elephants. You know, that kind of thing.

So the weird thing about the Festival of Lights was wandering around the park after dark. Seeing the glint of the lion’s eyes, even though you can’t really make out their bodies. Seeing 3 cheetahs maybe 20 feet from you…separated by a narrow ditch and about 2 feet of rope…in the dark! Hearing the gorillas, but not being able to see them at all since there were no lights in that area of the park.* As N.C. kept saying, there was something a little Jurassic Park about the whole thing. But it was definitely cool.

This photo is horrible, but I still feel compelled to share it with you all.

It was also very cool to see all the stuff they set up for the kids–face painting, sand art stations, make your own Christmas wrapping, toasted marshmallows (Um, yeah, we totally got on board with that one), etc, etc. Seeing all the kids running around, and all the lights definitely helped my Christmas spirit.

That’s not to say some of the lights weren’t hysterical.

Like this one.

Because nothing says the holidays like a giant tarantula.

Or an elephant shooting sparks from its trunk.

But that’s ok, because the S.S. Santa was festive enough for everyone!

*I tried to get pictures of the animals but 1) I have no tripod and 2) the animals were too far away for my flash to do anything other than illuminate their eyes in the creepiest way and 3) I suck at taking photos at night, with or without my flash. I’m working on it, but kind of feel like until I have the tripod, it’s a wasted effort. So yeah, these photos all kind of suck, but at least they’re something!

I’m dragging today, and all thanks to my downstairs neighbors. They like to make dinner around 1am (oh, dear god the smells), but more than that, 1am is their “socializing” time. Since they’re all boys, of course their voices travel. Yeah, so not much sleep for me last night.

When I think about it, I’ve had lots of issues with neighbors since I started renting. There were the folks who lived above us that I swear must have had cement blocks strapped to their feet (here’s a hint…if you live in a 100 year old building with hardwood floors…buy a rug or two. And try not to stomp. If the stuff on my walls is falling off because you’re making them shake, you’re doing it wrong). The guy who lived below us who thought he was a dj and would “practice”…at 7am on Sunday. The guys who lived below us who played dodgeball in their living room from about 10pm until 2 am. But of course, these are minor compared to some of the crazy neighbors I’ve had.

It started way back in my junior year of college. That year, I lived in a house with 3 other girls. The house was nice (enough), but it was in the ghhhhheeetooooo. Seriously, there were drug dealers and crooked cops and crazy shit would happen all the time. We’d wake up and there would be liquor bottles in our mailbox. On a Tuesday. But the craziest was when what we think was a drug bust happened two doors down. Cops parked on our lawn, swat teams busting down doors, etc. Ah, what four naive white chicks put up with for cheap rent and a big backyard.

The next year, we moved to a nicer part of town, into an apartment. I loved that apartment, except for one thing. The floors were apparently made of cardboard or something. We could hear everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING, our downstairs neighbors did in their bedrooms. Like when the guy living below me apparently had two or three girls over. It got pretty dirty, let me tell you. Penthouse had nothing on that guy.

The following year after graduation, I moved into these so-called “luxury” apartments. But luxury apparently doesn’t keep the crazy away. Like the guy who thought his ex-girlfriend lived in my apartment. The guy who had a restraining order, but came banging on my window at midnight anyway demanding that I come out or he’d have to come in and get me? Yeah, that was fun. (He figured out he had the wrong apartment after about 5 minutes and then went and harassed her. She called the cops. Fun stuff.)

Of course, the kicker came that year as well. One night, my husband (then boyfriend) and a friend were over watching tv. We hear some loud, weird noises, but we’re engrossed in the show, so ignore it. Cut to an hour later, when the show is over and friend is going to leave. He walks outside  to a cadre of cops, police tape, and buzzing activity. Oh, and he’s not allowed to go anywhere until he gives a statement to the cops. Um, wtf? As it turns out, the noises we heard? A disgruntled cop killing his ex-wife’s lover and then turning the gun on himself. Yeah, crazy shit. That one wigged me out for quite a while (and I always wondered if they had to divulge that to whoever rented the apartment next? Cuz it was rented out like a month and 1/2 later).

Ah, crazy neighbors…how I wish I didn’t have so many stories about you. Someone please tell me I’m not alone in the curse of the bat-shit insane neighbors!

Get it? Haunting? For Halloween? Ok, yes I’m lame, but I’m also brain dead today, so that’s what you get.

Anyway, since we’re being losers for, like, the 5th year in a row and not doing anything for Halloween, I thought I’d instead share some of my Halloween recollections.

Like the time I was in kindergarten and one of the 7th grade teachers burst into our classroom with a running chainsaw, face covered in a hockey mask. Yes, a running chainsaw. Into a kindergarten class. I believe I crawled to the coat room I was so scared, but since I was 5 I might be remembering wrong.

Oooh, there was the time I was in…maybe 2nd grade?…and rather than trick or treat, the community had a Halloween party at the local high school gym/theater, complete with a “haunted house”(through the backstage wings of the stage), face painting, and a cake walk. Anyone else ever do a cake walk? I never won, even when there were so many cakes/cupcakes that EVERYONE else won. (by the way, yes this all sounds rather lame…what can I say, I lived in a little teeny tiny town at the time.)

I’ve never been particularly good at dressing up for Halloween–I’m not very creative, and for all her talents, my mom was never a make a costume from scratch kind of mom. There were lots of cats, maybe one princess, a clown, a few “rockers” (which were usually just trampy clothes and lots of makeup, and maybe some pink spray in hair color…it starts at a young age). There was one time in high school that I went as the queen of hearts–I wore all black and took some posterboard and made a queen of hearts playing card to wear. Let me tell you, I was the hit of that party (yeah, not quite).

In college, with the freedom (and self-confidence) to go with a little bit less clothing, I did a little better. We had a party called Pimps and Hos which allowed for some great costumes(by the way, did EVERY group in every college have one of these parties? Sure seems like it). Yeah, we were classy.

One year, I borrowed a dress from my roommate that had way too many sequins on it and went as either Ginger from Gilligan’s Island or a beauty pageant contestant, depending on who I was talking to. That was an unfortunate year thanks to some poor decision making in the…um…undergarment department. Let’s just say that duct tape is not so kind to tender flesh and leave it at that.

My senior year was probably the best year I’ve ever had for costumes. I went as Catwoman, and wore these pleather shorts, bustier, and knee high boots, along with pleather ears and a tail. My god I miss that body!  My cohorts did some fantastic stuff that year too–my friend Katherine went as Poison Ivy and N.C. went as the most elaborate Edward Scissorhands I’ve ever seen (he worked on that costume for at least a good week, and couldn’t touch very much most of the night for fear of puncturing things with the scissor blades. I’ll post pictures someday).

Sadly, that was probably the last good year for me and Halloween. We’ve done a few parties since then, but nothing fantastic. The one year we were going to do something, N.C. and I both got pretty violently ill the day before and spent the day hoping no one would even knock on the door for candy. Today is no exception–we’re pretty much ignoring the holiday once again, thanks to a lethal combination of deadlines, exhaustion, and laziness.

I think next year, though, I’m going to try and throw an actual Halloween party. That’s it, I’m putting it on my blog now as a challenge to myself for next fall–do something with this holiday!! It’s a chance to be a kid again, to dress up, be silly, and ignore the call to be respectable and presentable all the time.

Here’s to Halloween 2009.