Welcome to Chicago

On my 25th birthday I didn’t get a cake. I did’t get anything wrapped in a bow. Well, at least not that night. And I didn’t go out with friends to any trendy bars or restaurants on my list. Instead, I moved from suburbia to Evanston,  home of Northwestern University, to start grad school at Medill’s graduate journalism program. After two years of tears, over- thinking, late night T-bell and millions of talks and paths explored, I finally moved to another state to begin my journey. Today I even nailed some of my Target artwork to the walls of my new apartment.

My overthinking idealist mental to-do lists and “things to worry about” seem to have taken care of themselves for the most part. The past few weeks have gone smoothly (for the most part).

I keep building this experience up in my mind, after living at my house, or what all us twenty-somethings now refer to as our “parents’ house.“ In the past years at home, I made and cemented friendships, had two “real world” jobs in advertising and newspaper, along with one stint as a waitress at the local chain, and had some nice bonding time with the parentals and my little doggie who we lost a few days before I left for school (who I’ll love forever”

On my 25th birthday I didn’t get a cake. No one me gave presents. Well, at least not that night. And I didn’t go out with friends to any trendy bars or restaurants. Instead, I moved from suburbia to Evanston, the home of Northwestern University, to start grad school at Medill’s graduate journalism program. After two years of tears, over thinking, late night T-bell and millions of talks and paths explored, I am finally moved to another state and a new apartment. Today I even did some nailing to put up my Target posters.

My overthinking idealist mental to-do lists and “things to worry about” seem to have taken care of themselves for the most part. The past few weeks have gone smoothly, sort of.

I keep building this experience up in my mind, after living at my house, or what all us twenty-somethings now refer to as “my parents’  house,”  for the past two years out of undergrad. At home, I made and cemented friendships, had two “real world” jobs in advertising and newspaper, along with one stint as a waitress at the local chain, and had some nice bonding time with the parentals and my little doggie who we lost a few days before I left for school (who I’ll love forever).

I’ve been so anxious yet ready for this, and now that it’s here. I keep daydreaming of what’s to come, the friends I’ll meet, sweet spots I’ll visit, photos I’ll take, stories I’ll write. After a way-too-long stay from my loving, helpful, but over-involved parents, I set out to take in the city of Evanston. Cute little over-priced shops, plenty of yuppies and their puppies and more one way streets than I’ve ever seen make up this town, that surprisingly is also home to many random homeless people.

The people in my class have all been friending each other on facebook and sending out “hi, my name is” and “my background is” e-mails.  There is quite a mix of backgrounds in both skin color, nationality and career/education backgrounds. (That’s a good thing.)

After a short series of meetups with these new people, that slightly resembled blind dates, I went out with my new classmates for the first time last night . Wrigleyville was the area du jour, or, du nuit. I had my first $6 Amstel Light, followed by many other $5 Miller Lites. Welcome to Chi-town. Everyone was super friendly, well educated and interesting.

The subway ride home was a lot less scary that my mother made it out to be when she gave me pepperspray, maps and an emergency wad of cash. It was jammed packed at 1 a.m. with what looked like college kids and post grads, holding “to go” slices of pizza and breaking out into fits of laughter every 20 seconds or so, while trying to hold on to the bars so they don’t fall on their inebriated tushies.

In other unrelated news, the variety and quality of restaurants in the area makes food-loving me happy. My fave yum place so far is the downtown Giordano’s, despite the 2 hour wait. I’ve never seen a place before that you order the pizza an hour into your wait, and then after being sat, still wait. Bu it was fresh, baked bready deliciousness.

Unfortunately though, one disappointment in my new place is that our included cable package of 14 channels doesn’t include Showtime. I had to miss the season finale of Nancy Botwin. So sad. Instead the annoying Gossip Girl opening “xoxo” echoes in my ears. My roomie has been incessantly playing the DVDs since we talked to the video hut.

My ADD-like mind is done writing for the night. I’m glad I did my first post.. I’ve been wanting to share my thoughts and experience s with the outside world. I am always up for feedback, comments or suggestions. Or just “hey, I understand what you’re saying.” So hope you enjoyed my wanderings. More to come.