I’m a fan of any sort of wearable conversation pieces, but I had no idea what I was getting myself into with these puppies. A fun pair of flats are an essential to any fabulous woman’s wardrobe and this pair clearly steals center stage. A day-glo denim coral masterpiece; I love em. Apparently, so do the men.
While out at a Chicago Fire game this past weekend I received multiple compliments from a wide range of polite males. Standing in line at half time a college aged kid came up behind us and said, “Whoa! I definitely won’t be loosing you with those shoes! I’m from New York, this is my first game and you should be excited for me.” He quickly realized he was in between a rock and hard place in trying to decide between hitting on my 15 year old step sister or the 27 year old who clearly had no interest in him.
Walking out of the stadium a man old enough to be my father walked by and hollered “Cute shoes!” to which I replied, “Hey thanks!” Impressed by the gentleman’s keen sense of fashion I continued my trek across the parking lot and not even 5 minutes later a car pulled up and yelled “Hey look! It’s the girl with the cute shoes!” and started cheering. I waved to my adoring fans and continued my journey back to the city.
Compliments on the shuttle, as well as an awkward run in with the college kid (“Hey! There you are! Guess I was wrong! You didn’t even say good bye and I couldn’t find your shoes anywhere!”) led to pleasantries on the El. A man whom we’ll call “Crazy” pulled up a seat next to me with a “WOW! Day glo orange?!” I looked at him and said “Yes, that’s right.” He began telling me about a “place” that he had seen with lights that color coming through the windows but he didn’t trust what was going on inside.
At that point he began pulling items out of the bags he had with him. The first was a used ball cap from Marseilles, IL reminding the wearer to Support Our Troops. He was proud, as it “looks brand new doesn’t it?!” Next out of the bag was a cassette tape of CATS! the musical. He was delighted with his purchase until he realized that it was Tape 2 of 2 and he was missing the mate. “Oh well. It only cost 35 cents. I’m going to give it to my friend anyway. She used to live in this real small apartment and she loved cats. She had 30 of them but then she went to a mental health facility. Do you know anyone in a mental health facility?”
I thought for a second, running through the people I know that should probably be in a nuthouse, but admitted that no, I did not. “That’s ok. You’re better off that way. They run around dropping the N-word and that’s not ok cuz I live by a bunch of gang bangers that would shoot you for saying for something like that.” I stared at him, not quite understanding what was happening and said “I’d imagine they would.”
Next he pulled out a single gold hoop earring, that clearly had been found on the ground and looked as if a truck had backed over it a few times. “No, but thank you.” I politely declined. “No, no! It’s not for you! I was wondering if you think my lady friend would like it. You know, the one in the health facility?” Hmmmm. “Yes, I’m sure she’d think it’s quite nice.” He then proceeded to pull out 8 nose rings from his wallet he’d been saving for her, a rusted, foggy, stretchy tennis bracelet and another equally ridiculous single earring.
“Well. That’s quite a collection you’ve got. You’re friend is very lucky to have a friend like you.”
“Thanks. I think so too. Welp. Roosevelt. This is me. Nice talking to ya!”
I look over to my mother and her husband who have been doubled over in laughter the entire time, offering no words of rescue. They did however manage to capture a classic photo of me and my new Crazy friend that sums up our time together quite well.
I LOVE pizza. I typically eat it in some form at least 3 times a week. And last night I may have found the love of my life. I’m typically a thin crust girl, as the last 10 years of my life I’ve lived no where near decent deep dish. However, now that I’m back home my world of food has been flipped upside down.
Last night I went to Pequod’s Pizza in Lincoln Park and had my world rocked. The line was absurd but we waited regardless. Conversation quickly turned to the origin of the name, which happens to be the ship that went after the great Moby Dick. Wait, it gets better. Please note the hot pink thong around the whales head. Yes, that’s a thong. Apparently according to our waitress (who stalled 3 times before finally telling us the significance) “Moby Dick went down for a slice of pizza pie and came up with those on his head.” Yes, this is a family establishment. The owner was actually there, running around like he usually does on crazy weekend nights with his long, grey, braided pony tail. He looked like a guy I’d sit and have a beer with and I’m pretty sure he’s had his fair share of pie in his day.
The pizza was INSANE. A caramelized crust?? You’ve got to be kidding me. Here’s a quote from the menu: “Our deep dish is baked in cast iron pans blackened by decades of seasoning. The overflowing cheese emerges from the oven as a halo of caramelized crust.” I nearly j’d my p’s. I know, I have a problem when it comes to bread and cheese.
To top it all off, Rum & Cokes were $5 for what seemed like a triple and it’s a pretty legit sports bar with tv’s all around to watch the first Blackhawks win of the season and the usual Bulls overtime loss. Come for a visit and I’ll take you for a slice of the best pie you’ve ever tasted (;
PS I’m eating my leftovers right now, which if baked at 350 for approx 15 mins will blow your mind just as well.
You probably have already seen the video. BUT, you probably haven’t read the article yet, which is awesome. It’s always been dream of mine to be the next Erin Andrews on the sidelines. While this isn’t quite the same (my video is a little more family friendly than hers) I have finally made it to ESPN. Ok, just ESPN online. And it’s under the Action Sports blog, which I didn’t even realize existed, but I’ll take it!! And I shouldn’t even take credit, it’s all Gretch on there kids.
Plus I’m stalling for time while I finish up some other blog posts that are taking ages. I know I’ve been terrible, bare with me I’m the midst of a huge life transition folks. Thanks.
Check it out here.
I am so absurdly proud of being a Jayhawk that it’s a little gross. I wouldn’t say that I alone help to give Jayhawk fans a bad name (I know some of my friends affiliated with less-sweet universities would beg to differ), but when your team and school is as badass as Kansas, it’s very hard to be modest. However, I will say that after this past basketball season, I will never EVER talk even 1/10th the amount of shit during a season as I did last year. Boy did that bite me in the ass. But, one of my favorite things in life is to run into a random Jayhawk while out and about. Here’s a little story about that:
My favorite crazy Romanian and I are driving down a busy street in Denver behind a brand new silver Range Rover Sport. There in the bottom right hand corner, about the size of a quarter, is a baby Jayhawk. Being the obnox KU fan I am, I demand that my Romanian pull along side him immediately. To my extreme pleasure, he’s very fit, very black, and very good looking. A bit taken aback, I almost forget my mission until I start yelling “ROCK CHALK JAYHAWK GO KU!!” into his window and ear drum.
He looks at us for a moment like we’re crazy, then can’t help but hide his huge smile. “YOU KNOW IT GURRRRRRRRRRRRRL!” and with a snap of his fingers the pretty gay boy in his pretty car with a pretty sticker took off. As the Romanian and I tried to compose ourselves while fighting the giggle fits we notice that our Black Stallion has returned and is furiously shaking something out of the window trying to get me to take it. I crawl halfway out of the window to make the perfect handoff.
Alas, no phone number but something even better: a sheet of little quarter sized Jayhawk stickers.
Rock Chalk Jayhawk, keep spreadin’ the love.