Shortly after getting engaged three years ago, I decided that I was finally ready to take the leap with John and purchase a home of our own. Buying a home was something John had held in high regard for years and I had quite a different opinion. I was scared, quite frankly, because I had just begun working at a job where I actually made real money and could spend it on frivolous items like Burberry coats and Kate Spade handbags. I really wasn't looking forward to being house poor just to live someplace, that in my opinion, would be just like our current apartment with nicer appliances.

So, after that great trip to New York City I consented and we began house hunting. First off, we made a list of requirements (Lakeview/Lincoln Park area, vintage rehab, on premise washer and dryer, etc.) and items that we could live without (like in-unit washer and dryer, central heat and air, etc). Naturally there were some things that were more important to us as individuals as well which we chose to factor into our home search:

The items that were more important to me:
 1. I didn't want to be so house-poor that I couldn't enjoy the remainder of my 20's.
2. The house, under no circumstances, could be haunted.

The items that were more important to John:
1. It would be a good investment.
2. We would want to stay long-term.
3. The re-sale value would be high. 
4. It would be a good investment.
5. Good investment, blah blah blah....
6. Outdoor space for a grill.

So obviously, I left John to do the heavy lifting when it came to working out the financials and choosing a property that would be a 'good investment'. While I was more concerned with the aesthetics and finding something 'cute'. Within a couple of months of intensive searching we found a realtor along with many places we just didn't want. Some were far too small, the layouts were awkward, the building just seemed janky, etc.

Until one day, I found it online. The cutest condo ever.... EVER! In our price range, vintage rehab (built in 1904 and renovated in the 90's and again by the previous owners), close to the L, in Lakeview (an awesome block no less), good space, big back porch (grilling!), on site washers and dryers, and central heat and air (major bonus since most vintage buildings still have radiator and window units). Could it be more perfect? No? So in a rush John and I called our realtor to check this place out, and we fell in love. After a brief negotiation, in our car driving down to So-ILL to visit friends, we agreed on an offer and begun the process of buying our first home.

I have to admit, being a homeowner is a lot more rewarding than I thought it could be. I absolutely love our place. I love decorating, I love the flowers on my back porch, and I love making the place ours. Hell, I even tolerate going to Home Depot which is a place that used to send me into a hissy.

So what could spoil living in such a great, nay perfect, place? Condo Associations. Condo Associations are the bane of my sweet little buildings existence and in hindsight there are so many things that we would have watched out for "If Only We Had Known Better (TM)". It is absolutely ridiculous that my idiot neighbors can affect the worth of all the units. From having renters that destroy the common areas to a unit in foreclosure, can completely screw the environment of the building. I mega-loath Condo Associations, especially one, of which I serve as the Treasurer. 

There will be more ranting on this topic to come...

 

Okay Pandora. When I created a new station entitled 'Smashing Pumpkins Radio', I did not mean for it to be an open invitation to play every single shitty song from the late 90's in addition to Pearl Jam's "Rearview Mirror" greatest hits collection and Nirvana's MTV unplugged album. All. Day. Long.

Granted, the Pearl Jam and Nirvana, I am happy with. But, do you consider the Smashing Pumpkins to be similar to Sublime and Cake? Eagle-Eye Cherry? Really? Aren't you supposed to be choosing other songs on a 'Sounds Like' basis? I guess if I had to pick a band with 'similar' sound to the Pumpkins I couldn't really do it since they did have an eclectic sound. So, is your decision based solely on the 90's Alternative genre? In that case, then why the onslaught of 90's one-hit wonders? Hello Third Eye Blind!

Perhaps, you are trying to mock me Pandora? Are the mid-90's suddenly passe and we are currently only nostalgic for the 2000's? Or is it the 80's that are still cool? Are you saying my taste in music is that of some average 90's teenager who only liked Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and shitty songs that I could drive my beater car around my one-horse town trying to alleviate the boredom of my high school days? Well, if that is the case then you may be partially correct in that assessment. However, I also liked Aerosmith.   

Furthermore, the Pumpkins have an entire catalog of music beyond 1999. They came out with at least 2 maybe 3 albums that I cannot remember the names of, but they were released! On CD and maybe even iTunes at some point. And I'm sure somebody out there listened. I also read somewhere recently that the Pumpkin's are releasing a new album sometime soon. Where are the songs from that?! The article stated that Billy Corgan is now in his mid-40's and still cranking out the hits with his unique brand of teenage angst with a self-indulgent grown-up twist. No? Still not interested?

Then, fine. I give up and will go back to my Beatles Radio.

 

Day Drinking Diversions and Dangers

My weekend was an unusual one. Normally, I tend to keep myself pretty busy but this weekend I found myself with nothing to do so I was left to meander aimlessly around the city with no plans. And what happens to me when I find myself in situations of extreme boredom? I go bat-shit crazy.

Friday night, my husband and I on a whim invited some friends to go to Fish Bar down the street from our condo. Unfortunately, Fish Bar is pretty popular and since the idea was last minute we were not seated for a table until 9:30pm. Which, actually is fine for me since I am accustomed to eating later. However, for one friend, this wait time was not quite so acceptable and Polly Piss-Pants came out in force. Granted, my husband and I are the few in our crew with a regular 9 to 5 and most of my friends need to work early on Saturday and Sunday mornings. It also didn't help that we were told that the wait for a table would be 1 hour at the least so we wandered across the street to Vaughn's for a beer only, as we found out as we stumbled back to the restaurant, that our name was called, and passed, several times. But on a positive note, the Lobster Roll was still awesome.

After dinner, our friends departed back to Logan Square so they could get up to work in the morning and my husband and I were left to our devices and full stomachs. Naturally, he passed out within minutes of hitting the couch and I was left alone. And to while away the hours until I was finally tired, I broke into a bottle of wine, hung out on my back porch and googled randomly until 4am.

The next morning, i.e. 2:30pm, my husband wakes me up and bribes me with brunch. So I bolt out of bed and jump in the shower. I get dressed in record time, if I must say so. Either I was hungry, or I just really enjoy breakfast cocktails. Since it was truly a weekend without a plan, we discussed our normal brunch locations like Deleece or La Creperie, and finally settled on trying something new so we went to Kanela up on Clark St. A mixed green salad and two glasses of wine later, we were still discussing how to spend our day. A walk up to the Spice House in 90 degree heat? Continue day drinking? Go to the beach (and continue day drinking)? Since the possibilities seemed daunting and entirely endless, and all including some form of day drinking, I decided that the best way to kill some time would be to go up to Walgreen's and get my passport photo updated. Mind you, I'm wearing my favorite brunch outfit. A green strapless cotton sundress from J. Crew, some gold necklaces, giant Prada sunglasses, and my hair is in a top knot. Perfect for brunch. It turns out, not so perfect for a passport photo.

Buzzed, I wander into Walgreen's and make my way to the photo counter. I sit down for my picture and begin to wonder if a tube dress is the smartest ensemble to be wearing when I am having a picture taken from the shoulders up. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, and reasoning that my passport is really just for foreign countries, most of which have a more accepting stance on nudity anyway, to proceed with my picture. Pleased, that I actually got something done on a Saturday, we made our way home to spend the remaining afternoon on our back porch with another bottle of Charles Shaw Merlot and to send off the form and picture to have my last name on my passport updated.

Now today, as the weekend buzz is a couple days removed. That in a few weeks when I get my passport back. I WILL LOOK NAKED!! DAMNIT!!!