Memorial Day weekend and it has yet to feel like summer is right around the corner. That may have something to do will the demoralizing cold and wet April, but you know how it goes: April Showers bring May Flowers. But just so you're aware, May Flowers don't bring pilgrims. Mayflowers do, and that happened in November. So explain that to me, fool.
Nonsensical rhymes aside, I'm really excited for the upcoming summer. E will be coming to Chicago for my birthday weekend (Treat Yo' Self 2013) and in July it'll be off to Missouri for my grandparent's 60th wedding anniversary. And, of course, there's always Chicago in the summer to look forward to. I swear that seeing this city in the summer almost makes the winters worth it...almost.
When I moved in to my studio apartment I had a couple conflicting feelings about it. The first was utter shock; I had just started a new job and my world had been turned upside down. The second was this giggly weird freedom that made me feel like a little girl playing house rather than an adult paying her own rent. It was confusing, and I find that it still is some nights when I come home to read blogs or watch a movie by myself in MY Chicago apartment.
After moving in I stocked my little half-a-fridge and bought an off-brand, sub-par jar of salsa. I tried opening it and the lid wouldn't budge. I dug my trusty jar opener out of a moving box but the lid stayed put. I ran it under hot water, submerged it in my sink upside down, tried hitting the edge of the lid against my half-a-stove and even went at it with a can opener. For the past seven months I would peer in to the fridge, see that jar of salsa taunting me and give it the old college try. It's become this running joke with Mom: should I lure a guy under false pretenses back to my apartment just so he can open the jar of salsa for me? Or maybe it's my King Arthur moment, he who opens the salsa get the...sword?
The silly thing is I will go to the grocery store and looking at the salsa aisle only strengthens my resolve to march back to my apartment and open my own salsa. Recently the old fashioned way didn't work as per usual and I tried to get through the top with a wine corker almost cutting my fingers and breaking the corkscrew. "Am I really going to wait for someone to come along and open this damn jar of salsa?" I thought munching on unflavored taco chips.
This Cinco de Mayo I went grocery shopping with a firm purpose. I picked out my favorite jar (no off brands) plunked that baby in the cart and hoped for the best. Low and behold upon my triumphant return to the apartment the jar clicked open like a magical symphony of angels and was consumed with a considerable amount of swagger.
And that is the story that made me want to blog just a lil' bit.
E and I kicked around the city drinking frozen Jack and Cokes and enjoying the general splendor of the weather and Final Four fans all flooding the city at once. We ran the Color Run, went to a Braves game, completed a scavenger hunt through a cemetery (despite my total lack of word search skills), saw some impressive aquatics at the Georgia Aquarium, ate a lot of ice cream and played Settlers of Catan. It's okay to admit that you're jealous because I continue to be bummed that I can't go back and do it all over again this weekend.
The Anatomy of a Chicago St. Paddy's Day Hangover:
A coffee run is the obvious first step and you feel like you're making the right choice by getting it iced despite the frigid temperatures. At least the ice cubes are hydrating. A line of college basketball players waiting for steak and cheese bagels makes you wonder if you'll catch the El on time, which you do. You start to wonder if people have noticed your green jeans that were so obviously for last night's festivities, but then realize that Sunday is actual St. Patrick's Day. Score.
Sip carefully on the iced coffee and wait to get home to devour the muffin in your purse that you're saving for when the time is right and your exact specifications have been met. The neighbors pomeranians silently but happily greet you at the front gate furthering your longing for a dog but your pounding head confirms that it's a responsibility you can't handle. Grateful that the other neighbors are making something with rosemary in it today as opposed to curry as you lug your sad cramped up legs up three flights.
A twenty minute boiling hot shower/teeth brushing combination makes you feel at least half way human but now you can't bring yourself to get out of the shower. The comfiest of sweats are carefully chosen. One minute of getting situated on the couch with Chicago Fire playing on your laptop and a bite of the patiently awaited muffin confirms that you're not going anywhere. A quick facebook scan and a text from a friend confirms that people do still go out drinking on actual St. Patrick's Day but obviously not like Chicagoans do on Saturdays.
In case you're wondering, I "lovingly ripped off" this little survey from Delightfully Tacky. It seemed like the perfect re-kick-start to my blogging adventures. I thought I would take a break for a couple of weeks and see if I was any better for it...but alas I am not. My creative outlets are few and far between, and eliminating the blog only added stress as opposed to decreasing it. I will try and remember this next time I decide to go blogger AWOL.
Reading... Stuck on the last two chapters of Dresden File's Summer Knight. Once I'm finished I can't decide if I want to continue with the the series or take a little break with Diane Keaton's Then Again.
Watching... Catching up on my Hulu queue. New Girl, Chicago Fire, Parks and Recreation, and I still have the last episode of 30 Rock there too. I can't bring myself to watch it! Need a new series to though...
Wishing... I could get the remainder of my apartment put together. I moved in November and things are still in plastic boxes and art is still sitting on the floor. I need a plan of attack to organize and decorate this place on a limited budget. I would love it to feel more like my home than just a place to crash every night. I know these things take time, but I feel like I'm stalling by not doing the basic projects I've already set up for myself. Hopefully once those things are done I'll have a sense of direction in what I want to do next.
Proud of.. I started working out in my apartment four weeks ago and I'm still at it! I have yet to go outside for a run, but I can already feel a difference in my energy level just by doing plyometrics. I like the Bikini Body Workout from Self and the Get In Shape for Summer workout from Refinery29. I have also taken a greater interest in nutrition and cooking for myself, which isn't to say that I'm not having cereal for dinner every now and then, but I'm getting better!
Excited about... Mama Morgan decided to come to Chicago for a few days at the end of March! Also the Atlanta trip and Color Run is fast approaching.
Impatiently awaiting... Spring's arrival and the opportunity to wear all my sundresses and shorts again. I realize that I should be looking for on sale boots and winter coats, but I can't help but browse sandals, skirts, and swimwear for the upcoming Atlanta trip. As lovely as Chicago is in the winter, it's even better in the summer.
I allowed the week to just slip away from me, but I'm glad I did. Only 9 more days until Christmas, then I get to escape back home for a little bit. Mom and I will be driving back to Chicago Christmas night and I'll be at work the next day. All that's left to get me through this next week is to let everything slip some more. Go with the flow and enjoy the holidays in Chicago while I still can.
Despite Chicago's insistence that it should be drizzly, hazy and all around gloomy I'm still in the holiday mood which makes, what? Eight weeks now? I got my little tree put together, the holiday show I'm working on will be going up this week, there's a staff holiday party and a decreed Ugly Christmas Sweater day that I am pumped for. I'm already making plans to bake cookies and knock out all of my Christmas shopping this week, and even better plans to see friends over the next couple of months. Chicago drizzlies can't knock a girl down when she's high on the love of the season...that's not a euphemism for something drug related.
I bet you don't know what today is! And the reason I'm a betting woman is because I didn't even realize it myself until last night...
One year ago today I started blogging! I spent November unpacking my belongings in my very first Chicago apartment, all the while hemming and hawing about a blog title (which really is the hardest part of staring a blog) then I eventually settled on Kiley Kate, it being my name and all.
I'm not one for speeches, but thank you to those of you who have supported me by reading Kiley Kate and admitting openly to me that you do read it and enjoy it. It means a lot to me as a writer working to find my voice and direction while I'm living and learning in Chicago.
I don't know about you, but I'm going to celebrate with a baked good of some sort, and I hope you'll do the same, at least in spirit you know. I'd love to share a cupcake with you all!
This morning I woke up, ate breakfast, and promptly fell back asleep. Got up, took a shower, fell back asleep (not in the shower thankfully). The holiday weekend took a lot out of me it seems. Either that or I need to stop reading scary books before I go to sleep.
I had an energy spurt in the middle of the day which resulted in a Target run and an apartment re-organization. Again. The only likely conclusion to this day is Pandora radio's Queen station and a box glass of wine.
After my computer was fixed I logged on to my bloglovin' que and found almost 200 unread blogs, 200! I would catch up on a few before work, read some while I was eating dinner, and last night I finally got through the majority of them. Now that's dedication. I can't hear a faint voice in the distance saying: "now if only you put that much effort in to you math homework..." Never have, never will.
One of the last blogs I read was the A Cup Of Jo post about Mindy Kaling and asking her mother for advice before she passed. The most important thing she remembered was "You have to be your own best friend. If you always remember that, you will always have someone there with you." It made me think, have a really been a best friend to myself lately? Beating myself up at work for not making sales goals, being down on myself for not working out when I know I should, and even criticizing myself for not writing these blog posts more often. So yesterday, I decided to be a great best friend to myself.
I was easy on myself at work, everyone has off days, y'know? I went grocery shopping and bought myself a glass pan and some brownie mix, then hit up the redbox for some girls-night-in DVD rentals. I did a little work out while I was waiting for the brownies to be made and then I watched Magic Mike and ate said crumbly hot delicious brownies (but no worries, I worked out before I ate them so they cancel each other out.) I cleaned my room because I knew I would love waking up to a tidy space and I scoured Pinterest without shame of my time being "wasted". I spoke kindly to myself about this only being a speed bump in a really long journey, that I won't always be struggling but even when I am, I'll have a best friend to fall back on when I need help.
Have you been a great best friend to yourself lately? I'd highly recommend it, especially if there are brownies involved.
Look at me go, making promises that I can't keep. Maybe it was a little lofty to think that I could work, close a show, and write blog posts without wireless internet, but at least I'm hopeful. To be honest I'm glad for the weekend I've had. Theatre, friends, and putting the pieces of my apartment together. Once there is a permanent source of internet (lifeblood) installed in my apartment, I will be more diligent about posting...
I have been fighting tooth and nail to prevent myself from listening to Christmas music all week long. I justify it by saying that at the very least it's Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby, but I know in my heart of hearts that it is far too early for "sounds of the season". And yet, I find myself singing it around the apartment and craving a screening of White Christmas.
After fighting all night with different cough medicines and waking up to a less than warm apartment, I crawled under a blanket on the couch and let Pandora take care of me. I don't know if it's the joy of the season I'm looking forward to, being able to stay in and drink a hot toddy without guilt or wear my red rubber snow boots out and about, but I'm truly looking forward to Christmas this year, despite not being able to go home.
I hope everyone enjoys their Sunday! (Only 71 more days until Christmas!)
When I'm in the booth during shows in between calling cues I like to have activities that keep me alert after a long day of work. Sometimes it's knitting, writing free form poetry (really), and today it was hot yoga since the heat was cranked very high in my lil' machine-filled "stage manager's office". But this weekend I tried to focus on teaching myself to waltz.
Ever since I downloaded this new album it makes me want to dance everywhere. Through the halls of work, on the train platform, with strangers at the bar, anywhere really. Determined, I started hearing the melodies in my head and teaching myself basic waltz steps only to realize two hours in that I wouldn't lead a waltz.
So I had to learn it again...backwards. I was #almostsortofpractically a dance minor and reversing a combo is my least favorite thing to do other than doing anything that requires any sort of flexibility. (In case you're wondering I studied modern and I was fantastic at stretching and practicing my gravity-relationship with the floor.) But with a little practice I can lead AND follow, so if you need a teacher I could spin you around in circles :)
It reminded me of all the other things I'd like to learn, at the top of that list: teaching myself to play a ukulele or the banjo. And when I do, this is the first thing I want to learn:
Yesterday I noticed that the tops of the maple trees in Chicago are just starting to tint orange. Fall is coming and I am truly not ready for it. My stomach is in knots and I wake up in a panic so alarming that I can rarely get back to sleep. I haven't figured out where I want to live or what I want to do with the next year, and it's all coming at me too quickly. But I'm making plans as best I can and moving forward the only way I know how, by just letting it happen. Somewhere in the grand scheme of things, I'll land on my feet.
I was lucky enough to cap off my first week at my new job and previews for the show by celebrating with the cast and crew and waking up to this conversation:
Roommate: Does my face look red?
Myself: Yeah, do you want to borrow some sunscreen?
Roommate: It's not a tan, it's Gwar blood!
Oh the lovely times in this apartment. I've hardly spent more than a moment in here except to sleep this week. I hop off the train from my 9-5 and go straight to the theatre. It's stressful but I can't help but be proud of it. At least I know it's not forever...
I'm going to take the morning to relax and jump right back in the saddle this afternoon!
On this Sunday morning I realized that I'm entering that phase where all night wild partying is maybe not my thing anymore. I attempted to party it up last night, and by midnight I was curled up on the couch staring off in to sleepy space. When my more mature friends would explain the wonders of staying home with an IPA and a movie, or going to a quieter bar to watch a game and chat, I would insist that it was no replacement for partying hard, but alas, I am becoming old.
And now, my royal oldness will spend the morning with a cup of coffee and some oatmeal, nursing and undeserved old-lady hangover and ponder facing the true autumn today....additionally I might make a national movement to replace the Birthday Song with they Might Be Giants.
Cheers to the end of August! It's never been my favorite month. It's a place where I'm always confused about the seasons, whether it should be a lazy summer month or a productive fall one. August delays time in terms of how I think my life should be progressing; it's that strange middle ground that I don't know what to do with except to get through it. Now that I have, Welcome September! The birth month of a lot of my favorite people, the time when pumpkin flavored things seem less out of context and when I can safely start thinking about my Halloween costume without feeling like a nerd. I shall try to enjoy you to the fullest until my second favorite month follows you...October! Golden leaves, spooky treats, and true sweater weather!
A week later and the internet has finally been restored! Headache after headache this week. Despite my ability to relocate to a coffee shop, I just couldn't make myself re-connect until this morning.
It's funny how once life really starts to take a turn for the worst you really don't feel like sharing anything, much less the better parts of what's going on. I had an awakening moment when I realized that I'm not focusing enough on the good things and accomplishments. I'm a strong person and I have the will and drive to get through this 20-something anxiety. I will figure it out. I will keep going.
Horror of horrors, I have no home wireless! It wasn't working yesterday so I decided to go out for a run, hoping for its return when I came back, and low and behold it was not. Some investigation by Roommate uncovered that the rivaling cable company had accidentally snipped our line in an effort to install our neighbor's new system. After a series of very unhelpful phone calls we switched wireless providers and our portal to the world will be installed on Friday. Boo.
So this Sunday I am taking advantage Cinnamon Roll Sundays at my current work space, the Growling Rabbit. Posts may be scarce this week as I will be cafe hopping when I have the opportunity. I feel so much more productive at the moment because of the limited wireless, but I'm sure I'll be going nuts by the end of the week.
