Minor Holidays

Life has been busy here in Chicago lately, and our diligence (aka- my diligence) in updating this blog has clearly fallen to the wayside. What have we been doing? Well, let me share...

About a week and a half ago was Pi Day. For those of you who passed Algebra 2 in high school by cheating off the nearest Asian kid, Pi is 3.14, so March 14th is reserved to celebrate all thing Pi. To be honest, I don't even like math. (You know how many math classes it takes to get an English degree? One. And not even a hard one. My midterm for the class was writing a paper about examples of math in "The Simpsons." Seriously.) Also, I really don't even know that much about pi. (It has something to do with circles, right?) I just use Pi Day as an excuse to eat lots of pie. (I'm like those jerks who think Christmas is about celebrating the birth of Santa Claus.) It all started back in 2007, when I literally went door-to-door unannounced to my friend's houses, offering them free pie. Over the past couple of years, the celebration has died down a bit, so this year I decided to invite some people to our apartment for pie. Around 8pm, our tiny studio was cramped with about 8 people, half of whom were sitting on the floor because we don't have any chairs. Though it was a little uncomfortable, people are willing to endure a little discomfort for free pie.

After that, on Friday, I went on a prayer walk with our church. One of the exciting things that will be happening soon here in Chicago is the development of our community garden. Apparently, last year CCC Edgewater joined up with some people already doing some community gardening here, but this year an additional abandoned lot is being converted to vegetable plots. So we spent some time walking around the lot and the surrounding neighborhood, asking for God's guidance and blessing. Then, like the good Chicagoans we are, we all went and ate lots of pizza.

Cary Anne has been super busy lately. The show she's been volunteering with recently opened, so her life has become consumed by her 9-to-5 job then a full evening of rehearsal/shows, which means she usually doesn't get home until after 11:30pm. The night before St. Patrick's Day, she walked in after midnight and found me on the phone. Our friend Alexandria from college had recently written me a one sentence message on Facebook that simply said, "I'm in Chicago." 

Who are you talking to?" CA asked.

"Listen to this. Al's in Wrigleyville!"

"What the [expletive]?!" Cary Anne yelled, throwing her keys to the floor.

That's how we ended up at a tiny Mexican joint in Wrigleyville, eating overpriced nachos at 1am. At first, we had tried a bar, but the revelry of St. Paddy's day was already in full swing and we could barely hear each other over the screams of half drunk girls singing slurred renditions of the Backstreet Boys song streaming from the PA. The reunion with Al was great since we hadn't seen her since Christmas, and even then our time was fleeting. She told us all about her recent Spring Break trip to Portland, and we told her about our life in Chicago. Then we wandered the streets, took pictures, and said things like, "I'm gonna tweet this shit."

The next day, I had another reunion. My friend Hannah, whom I've known since middle school but hadn't seen in over a year and a half, was in town for St. Patrick's Day. Earlier, she had texted me to ask if we could grab lunch. Of course I said yes, and I went a step further and invited our friend Dan along. Hannah and I know Dan because we were all involved in theater in high school, but Hannah hadn't seen Dan in probably 7 years. I had dinner with Dan when I came apartment shopping for CA and I back in October, but before then I hadn't seen him in probably 6 years (and hadn't seen him since). I made the mistake of saying we should meet at a diner in Wrigleyville because it was a good mid-point, not realizing a street lined with bars on St. Paddy's is a recipe for disaster. The streets were swarming with every type of person I had ever met and hated during my college years, and to make matters worse Hannah got confused and got off at the wrong train stop. However, once we all arrived in the same place, we had a good time catching up and reminiscing. Hopefully it won't be years before I see those guys again.

And hopefully it won't be too long before I update this blog again.
Wish me luck.

"Feel the Illinoise"

Big things have been happening in Chicago lately. Last weekend, the city turned a whopping 175 years old, after officially becoming a town all the way back in 1837. Then, Monday was Chicago's annual Casimir Pulaski Day, where on the first Monday of March the school system shuts down so all the kids can stay home and listen to that depressing Sufjan Stevens song. (Actually, Pulaski was a hero of the American Revolution. Shame on you, if you were unaware.) So how did Cary Anne and I celebrate these momentous occasions? We splurged on the more expensive ice cream at the store. Seriously.

Actually, things in our life have been fairly busy. First, my level one improv class at iO came to an end. For 8 weeks, I had the opportunity to bond with about 20 of the kindest, funniest people I've ever met. My 3 hours with them every Wednesday night was easily one of the best parts of my week, and I already miss getting up on stage and playing with them regularly. (Luckily, I succeeded in getting everyone to sing Vitamin C's "Graduation Song" during our last class. It really wasn't hard after 8 weeks of of being told "Support your partner(s)" and "Look for the pattern and join in." Seriously, just go into an improv class and start singing anything. If they're any good, they'll join in.) The class was a great growing experience, and I can't wait to get some more money saved to sign up for level 2. Cary Anne also recently finished the first play she was volunteering with as a stage hand and immediately threw herself into another production, this time as an assistant Stage Manager. Though the work consumes a lot of her evenings, she says it's worth it to be back in the theatre world. However, I know she's ready to take a breather once this show comes to a close. 

With Cary Anne working a full time job while helping to put up a show and with my sporadic work schedule while trying to pursue some comedic endeavors, it's not always easy for us to spend quality time together. Luckily, last week, we both had Friday night off so we decided to plan a date night. I found a small, cheap bowling alley not far from us called Timber Lanes. I didn't realize just how cozy it would be until we walked in: 8 lanes and no computer system. Every ball in the joint was inscribed with a name. I used a shiny red one called "Rat Boy," and Cary Anne used a blue ball named "Penny." For about an hour we played, continually hoping our Wii bowling training would somehow come in handy, but it didn't really. Without a computer system, we had no idea what our score was, so we just wrote down the numbers and resolved to Google it when we got home. In the end, I think we only played slightly worse than the group of elementary schoolers who were using the lane beside us. (Though, in our defense, they were relying on the bumpers pretty heavily.) Overall, it was a lot of fun, and it was so nice to find a simple, old-fashioned alley tucked away into the glitz and noise of the big city. Cary Anne and I have already told multiple other couples about it, and they're all demanding a double date sometime in the near future. Though I'm not sure they can compete with our sweet 120 average.