As the wise Chumbawamba once said, “I get knocked down, but I get up again. You are never gonna keep me down.” Hey self, if you can’t handle me at my Chumba, you don’t deserve me at my wamba.
#9. I’m midwestern AF. I grew up in St. Louis, went to highschool and college in Minnesota and moved to Chicago 4 years ago. My favorite pastime is eating. Ranch dressing is my ketchup. I apologize for everything. I wait in line just like I’m supposed to and am polite to strangers. I have a real weakness for cookies and bars, hotdish, and pretty much anything on a stick, but even so, don’t have the capacity to commit the midwestern cardinal sin – I will never take the last serving.
This year, Todd and I have acquired quite the collection of wedding invitations. I am not saying this to brag about how cool and popular we are because that’s a given, I’m merely making an observation. One that confirms that getting older requires a lot more responsibility and holy shit, weddings are expensive.
In 2013, I moved to Chicago with bright eyes, an open mind and absolutely no idea how to navigate it. Nearly every person that lives in the city will tell you, “All you have to know is which way the lake is, then you’re set.” When you first move here, I’m going to argue that’s
Here you have it – a low carb, frou-fruit adult beverage that doesn’t call for any mint because of the travesty that is my mint-lacking balcony garden. On a semi-related note, I love calling beverages adult because, according to science, that’s what I should be identifying as.
It’s finally 2017. Wowie kazowie, 2016 was a hell of a year. I made ONE single post in this old thang, which is pretty disappointing, but so was a lot of this year. World events, politics, and the soap box that is social media continue to be real downers. Boy, am I grateful for the “Unfollow” button
I am cilantro lover and I don’t care who knows it. To all you freaks out there that say it tastes like soap: shut up. If you are one of those freaks, there’s a very good chance you’re genetically predisposed to dislike it, and you’re not just a picky eater. If this information comes as
As a manager of mine once said [at a work meeting that included scenes from Braveheart and pizza], “You’re either on the bus, or you’re off the bus.” such deep. much philosophical. My point? ‘Tis finally time to hop back on the hypothetical blogging bus. It’s BBQ season. The most patriotic time of the year. Filled with
I’ve got balls on the brain. Yes, you read that correctly. Balls. I feel like there’s a stigma around edible ball-shaped objects. For obvious reasons, yes. So as a preemptive precaution, please watch this tasteful SNL skit to get the obvious ball jokes out of the way. I absolutely suck at waking up to an
Well I already failed the New Years resolution that was updating this beast twice a month. My excuses this month include: February is short, February sucks, I went on vacation, I was busy as fudge, and February sucks. Meh, I deem those ‘explanations’ all valid and forgivable. When I moved to Chicago a year ago,