It's official!

It's official!
David Stubbs Photography

Monday, October 29, 2012

Hurricane Sandy

Midtown today
Well, talk about timing. Mike and I decided to move to New York City yesterday, the same day Hurricane Sandy decided to bear down on the East Coast. So now instead of exploring this cool city and eating at fun restaurants, we are stuck inside our tiny Midtown apartment drinking bottled water and eating cereal with not milk, but half and half, because the stores are out of basic supplies.

Stocking up on supplies
Ironically enough, this same scenario happened to me when I moved to Southwest Florida in 2003. Little did I know, I was about to experience one of the worst hurricane seasons on record, and as a news reporter, I would be forced to stand outside and report on Hurricanes Charley, Frances, Jeanne and Ivan. What can I say? Hurricanes like me.

When we flew in yesterday morning to LaGuardia, we were on one of the last flights into the city. It was a bumpy, fun ride too (yeah, right). After we arrived at our temporary housing, we immediately went across the street to Rite Aid and stocked up on bottled water, soup and half and half. As I mentioned, the shelves were nearly empty and we got one of the last cases of water. It was a bit eerie. The lines were long and people seemed a bit frantic. Look at this photo...the woman next to us was totally eyeing our Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Funny enough...she bought about 20 candles and four packs of cigarettes. I guess it's important to have smokes when trying to "stay safe." (And she apparently didn't hear about the SW Florida man who died after Hurricane Charley because he got hit by a falling tree while smoking outside of his home.) See, smoking kills.

So now, it's just lightly raining, but we're doing what the emergency workers are asking us to do: we're staying inside and waiting to see what comes next. I can't wait until NYC gets back to what it should be-- a place where you can get Chinese food and 1% milk at 2 a.m.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Chicago's best kept secret

After three years of living in Chicago, I just discovered this week one of the city's best kept secrets. Did you know you can call ahead and have a cab waiting for you at your apartment? I never knew!

I was telling a friend of mine that I had the early morning writing shift at WBBM-AM this week, and my usual ride (my husband) is out of town. I was not too keen on taking the red line train or the 22 Clark Street bus at 5:15 a.m. (you either get robbed or get MRSA), so I wasn't sure what to do. He suggested that I call ahead the night before, and get a cab. Wait, what? Oh yeah, he tells me, they will not only pick you up right outside your door, they will text you when they're on their way.

Hmm. This information would have been oh-so-handy a few months when I waited for 20 minutes in the rain while trying to get a cab to Midway Airport.

So I decided to try it. I called Yellow Cab the night before my shift and scheduled the taxi. Sure enough, they texted when the driver was on his way and he called when he was outside. When I walked out of my apartment--there he was. Double parked on our street waiting for me. When I got in, he reset the meter. AND it gets better....he was also freshly showered and listening to WBBM-AM! AND he didn't try and drive 65 mph down Clark Street! It was a beautiful thing.

So there you have it...too bad I'm learning such great knowledge the week I'm moving out of this fabulous city. (Details on that, coming soon!)

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Living in Chicago

After living in our current Chicago apartment for two years this month, I've made a startling revelation: I really know nothing about our neighbors.

I do know the name of one, it's Kai. But she's a two-pound Yorkie. I also know one of my neighbors is likely in medical device sales, but that's only because I started Googling the companies from which he receives daily packages from, because I was worried he might be making a bomb. I also know the man who lives next door to us is not paying his student loans, because debt collectors called us asking if we could help encourage him to pay. Yeah, right federal government.

Yep, that's it. Until this happened.

I took some of our recyclables to the 2nd floor recycling bin when I saw this. It's the packaging for a fantasy bondage swing! The box was big too, so these neighbors are not messing around (well, clearly they are). Here is what I immediately thought (in this order):

1) Wow, we have some very kinky neighbors
2) At least they recycle

The crazy thing is (other than trying to wear those shoes) is that they didn't even try to hide it! The box was right there on top of egg cartons and plastic bottles. I posted the photo on Facebook and got some great reactions. One said, "Now you need to mess with them by asking if you can come over and hang around." (Awesome Kevin) Another said, "Asking them to keep it down will never be the same." (Touche James).

Funny enough, I never hear our neighbors because it's a very quiet building. I used to hear the L train every 5-10 minutes, but like any Chicagoan, I hardly notice anymore. I occasionally hear a loud bang, which I convince myself is a car backfiring or fireworks, not a gun shot. But that's it. I definitely don't hear what I can only imagine comes from a device like this.

Of course, this discovery has given my some great punch lines. When Mike texted the other day to ask what I was doing, I said, "Oh, I'm just hanging out at the neighbors."