So I recently moved out of my old apartment. In other words: no more MDR. While I love the kid to death, I decided it was probably for the best – especially since I had gone back to working in Corporate America and had to be up at 6am (vomit) to get ready for work and haul my morning-hating-self downtown – for my sanity and our friendship in general to go back to living on my own.
Let the hunt begin.
They say honesty is the best policy, but apparently apartment leasing companies missed the memo on this. Continue reading
Growing up, I was taught that “home is where the heart is” – compliments of some hand-stitched needlepoint that my mom or grandma had done at some point and hung on the wall. There’s the part in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy clicks her ruby red heels together and chants ‘There’s no place like home’ three times then magically reappears there. Sometimes it’d be nice to be able to do this. Trust me – there have been times that I’ve wished I could click my glittery size 12 pumps (just kidding, those days are over) together and end up in my mom’s house with a home-cooked meal in the land of a lack of reliable cell phone service where the closest guy on Grindr is 4 miles away. Continue reading
As we rolled into San Diego on a sunny Sunday afternoon, depression started to set in. In less than 24 hours I was supposed to be boarding my flight back to Chicago and trading 80-degree temps for 50’s and rain. Determined not to let the inevitable (me leaving) get us down, we headed for Balboa Park to stretch our legs and let Baker make some friends at the dog park before checking into our amazing last-minute AirBNB booking at the Granada House (make sure to check out their blog too!!) in San Diego’s North Park neighborhood. As our stomachs began to growl (yes, gays really do eat sometimes), we set off for the beach to grab dinner and catch the end of the sunset.
I mean seriously…how can you not fall in love with this view?
And just like that, my love affair with San Diego began. Continue reading
“I wanna dance till my body ache.”
Yep…sounds about right. Between work, going out, and moving into my new apartment, my body is in desperate need of a massage, another mani/pedi, and some R&R…preferably on a beach. While I recover from life, here are a few of my current obsessions.
Going through life as we grow and mature (or not in the case of too many people it seems), we come to realize that there’s no room for negative people. So like a good haircut, those dead-end-like “friends” get cut off, swept up, and disposed of.
A prime example of this is a girl I’d been close friends with back in high school with whom I had actually gone to prom with one year. Despite being a pretty religious girl from a conservative family, she’d always been seemingly cool with the gays, and she was actually one of the first ones I’d told that I thought I might be when I was 15 or 16. So now, all of a sudden just shy of ten years later, she re-adds me on Facebook.
“Liking” the occasional post/photo/comment/whatever, was about the extent of our interaction for the most part aside from the occasional message checking in saying “hi”…until just recently. She posted a link to a Fox News article about a bakery in Oregon that had decided to close its doors rather than cater to a same-sex couple wanting to commission a wedding cake for their special day. She posted the link to the article with a comment to the effect of “So glad someone is standing up for Christian beliefs. Wish more people would recognize traditional values and what God wants.” Continue reading
I’m sure you’ve heard the “Give head to get ahead” phrase. Well call me a whore, but sometimes this is true. Has it ever gotten me ahead? No. At least not yet. I’m not that lucky. Has it ever led to a connection that’s gotten someone else ahead though? Perhaps.
A few years ago when I lived in Nebraska, I came to Chicago for a design conference and trade show. I met this guy who also worked in the retail/design industry and was going to be going to be going to the same event that evening that I was planning on hitting up. He had some designer friends who worked in the city that he suggested meeting up with to build some more connections for me since I was looking to move here at the time.
Well, needless to say one thing led to another (or more appropriately one open bar rooftop party led to another) and I ended up back at his place at the end of the night. Cue the walk of shame(lessness) at 6am back to my friend’s place where I was staying and the questions about where I’d been all night. Whoops. Continue reading