Q & A-nnoying

Life has become a little busier in the Dub household.

Blame it on a growing Miss Dub who needs more outings and entertainment than ever before.

Blame it on the good weather, which has prompted everyone and their dogs to throw some sort of shindig. (And let me tell you, those dogs make a mean kebab.)

Blame it on our new, responsibility-laden assignments at church. (Enrichment counselor for me – HELP!)

Blame it on the new fall season, which we feel obliged to sample. (Can I just say Reaper was the funniest, most cleverly premised show I’ve seen in a long time? And I generally don’t like Satan humor.)

Whatever you want to blame it on – and, yes, Mark-Paul Gosselar is an option – I got so busy this weekend that I forgot to recharge my blog batteries. I forgot to do something so unbelievably fun or exciting or hilarious that I had to tell you about it in exaggerated detail. I forgot to get inspired and motivational and/or lose 15 pounds in a diuretic cleansing. I just plain forgot … everything.

So I’ve got nothing for ch’alls. Except to point out that I continue to insert my invented phrase, “ch’alls,” into my blogs – along with FYE (for your edification) – and yet neither term has joined popular vernacular. I mean, how influential do you have to be to coin a phrase these days? Because I have like FOUR blog readers.

Speaking of that, I’m going to implore ch’alls to help me out this week. With my batteries blitzed, I need your ideas to keep me writing this week. Because the alternative is reading this nonsense for the next four days, and, FYE, that would be annoying.

So why don’t you all send me some questions – whether in the comments section, via email or by carrier pigeon. ‘Cause we all know that I have no shame in sharing my secrets.

The hottest, most popular questions will be on the Hot Topic table tomorrow, and the others will get answered throughout the week.

Sound good, ch’alls?

(Wow! That word is super annoying. Who in the heck invented it anyway?)

For Your Edification

I feel a clarification is in order.

For the record, I HEART Chicago.

I don’t just like Chicago.

I don’t just endure Chicago.

I don’t hate Chicago.

I loOove Chicago so much I would make-out with it and there would be frenching involved.

But I don’t want to live here forever. And I think that’s OK.

Because I can love Chicago for what it is (a beautiful, vibrant, cultured city) and still not like things about it (i.e. the winter and any darn thing I don’t care for, so sue me).

Part of the reason you might think I don’t HEART Chicago is because Chicago was never meant to be home. Chicago was supposed to be an amazing 1-2 year adventure, where Mr. Dub would get his master’s of smarty pants, and I would explore the city when not heavy with child. We would savor every last bit of our urban life, only to pack up and head back to western suburbia when our time was done.

But two days shy of our western voyage, we ended up staying here. And while we traded our $100-a-month parking space for a piece of the ‘burbs, we’re still 30 minutes from the Magnificent Mile. And nearly four hours on plane from anyone who shares our genetic composition.

Which is OK … for now.

Just this past weekend we headed downtown and joined the throngs at Millenium Park celebrating the Blues Festival. We dined with a close family friend and walked around the city in late summer sunlight. It was fun. It was invigorating. It made me HEART Chicago all over again.

And not a day goes by that I don’t drive my dearest to work and remark on the sheer beauty of the tree-lined street and its lush canopies. Chicago may be a city, but we’re still the Midwest, which means there are forests a’plenty and scenic farmscapes mere minutes from The Loop.

(To be honest, Arizona looked a little dirty to me when I was visiting. And I double-HEART Arizona.)

But in the winter here, not a day goes by that I don’t complain about the cold, gray look of leafless trees, salted roads and dull skies. That I don’t lament the fact that I have to lug Miss Dub around in negative temps. That I don’t try my darndest to figure out just what you’re supposed to do with your ankle-length down coat and six additional layers once you get inside the grocery store.

And I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss the West and its spirit.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not making friends out here, that I’m not happy where I am, that I’m not treating Chicago as a permanent destination and not just some stopping point on my life road map.

I enjoy it.

I treasure it.

I HEART Chicago because Chicago is home … for now.

And when it’s not, that will be OK, too.

I’ll just open my HEART to some place else.

Just thought you should know.