Apartment, Lately

So somewhat recently I moved into this cute apartment in Lincoln Park. Except, it’s mostly only cute because it’s small, and theoretically small things are inherently cute. Theoretically.

That sounds a big pessimistic. I know. But some days I look around and lament the lack of a bedroom. Some days I can’t help but keep noticing the stains and scars on one corner of the ceiling and wall from when the place upstairs last leaked, purportedly last winter. Some days I look at my so-far lame attempts to put things I like on the walls and feel a bit like an interior decorating failure.

Some days I just sigh melodramatically: “Oh dear.”

But other days I know how lucky I am, that I can live as close to work downtown as I do with Chicago’s ridiculous living costs, and that my little studio is technically on the bigger side—for a city like Chicago, at least.

This past week I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking through all the little details I’ve been avoiding making decisions on—and some big details, like actually putting things on the walls. (And cleaning. Oh cleaning.)

My family will be in town this weekend, and it’s just been some pretty good motivation to just finish.

And I’ve got a lot of questions. Is it normal to take this long to put things on the walls? Does it take other 20 somethings a few homes before they get better at all of this? How much weight can I place on what other people think when they walk in my door without it being pride? And is it possible to be completely happy with your home?

Eventually I’ll put some pictures up of a clean, decorated space. In the meantime, tell me your stories: what were your first homes like? Did a big, melodramatic “Oh, dear” ever come from your lips? And blank walls, how long did you let yours live?

Growing into my newly-minted adulthood: a blog series (of sorts)

In an effort to get more comfortable with updating more frequently—and, really, with sharing more of my personal life—I’m setting myself up for a mini-challenge. While I completely flaked and didn’t even bother trying to participate in the Nester’s 31 day challenge, I realized I could make my own. Instead of 31 days, I’m taking it easy and going for once a week, for ten weeks: through the end of the year. To actually make it a decent challenge, I’m not counting book posts (either goal ones or Twitterature) or top-of-the-head life updates about coffee or quiche.

Part two of the challenge should be that posts that are mostly drafted don’t count, right? And I’ll go one step further and say that I have to make an effort to post those in good time as well.

As for a theme, I struggled to pinpoint one area that I want to consistently talk about (that isn’t books), but a list of things I wanted to but haven’t written about yet pointed me towards one of those ultra-cliche topics: growing up; being a newly-minted adult; independence and all that jazz.

Safety, commuting, professionalism and clothes, reading as an adult, hobbies, friendships, feminism, independence, church: all of these are deeply embedded into the whole shebang of figuring out how to do my adulthood & even personhood in these first couple of years.

So I’ll write about it. It’s time, and maybe I’ll keep figuring out more through the process


Reading, Lately [September]

The list below gives evidence of A) September simply being an inexplicably good month of reading; and B) my nerdish desire to make my Goodreads reading challenge in exactly 3/4 of the year, once I realized it was a viable possibility.

(And I did, in fact, pick the shortish novella A Tangled Web on September 30th to achieve that. Yes, that’s almost cheating. No, I don’t care.)


Fortunately, the Milk  
Neil Gaiman

Sometimes I think that Neil Gaiman is my favorite genre. This kids book isn’t really in any way relevant to that thought—because it’s necessarily very different from his non-kids books—but this remarkably clever story makes me think it anyways.

I gave this as a gift to a friend who loves children’s books long before even reading it, because I knew it would be good. And now that I’ve listened to it on audio book (read by Gaiman, even better!), I’m trying to come up with an excuse to put my hands on a hard copy again, because apparently the illustrations are lovely.

Rules of Civility  Amor Towles
I think it was lovely. It was lovely, right? Perhaps it was mostly lovely. I got bored a few times, and that doesn’t lend itself to the description, but when I was enjoying it, which was much of the time, it was. Lovely, that is. And I finished much of the second third or so quickly, as I was just into it quite a bit more by then.


Big Little Lies  Liane Moriarty

Big issues, light book. It feels like reading chick-li, and I suppose it is, but Moriarty is good here are packing the best kind of fluff right around the tougher things. I don’t know much much sense that actually makes, but anyways, I enjoyed this one all the way through.



Left Neglected  Lisa Genova

This one has been sitting on my bookshelf, waiting for me to do this silly self-challenge to read the poor books waiting for me on my bookshelves. I picked it up from the used bookstore, even though I’d been wanting to read another book by Genova more — but this one was there! It wasn’t anything special, but I liked engaging in the story, and all of everything in here about left neglect was fascinating.


The Geography of You and Me  Jennifer E. Smith

Silly, fun YA… but also a bit of a downer for some of it? This was another one where I did enjoy the reading, and I was more or less motivated to finish the story, but it didn’t wow me in the slightest. Maybe it was the improbability of a teenage romance lasting too much past the last page, but I’ve read plenty of books where I didn’t mind that.


A Tangled Web  Mercedes Lackey

Short 90-page adventure through Lackey’s vision of what Greek Mythology looks like in her 500 Kingdoms world. Picked for my need to finish a book that day– and it was perfect for that. Not as good as the first two or three books in the 500 Kingdoms series, but significantly better than the final three.




Bird by Bird Anne Lamott

I devoured the first few chapters of this right when I bought it several months ago, but once it became more focused on fiction it became a bit-by-bit book for me, since I don’t really write fiction. It took ages to finish, but was completely worth it: even the things that didn’t apply much to me were good. But if you’re also not a fiction writer, and don’t much care to read about it, the beginning and end are particularly great.


How To Be a Woman Caitlin Moran

I have absolutely no idea how to review this. The first who chapters feel quite a bit crass, but only so much in that we don’t really like talking about going through puberty all that much! It might not be for everyone, especially in my usual circles, but it was so worth it for me, particularly the later bits more specifically on feminism. Perhaps the most true thing I can tell you is that I carried this around at all times and finished it in under two days.



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Dear Monday: Go home. You’re drunk on coffee.

It’s Monday and this morning I drank coffee.


(Yes, I understand for most of you this is a normal thing, part of your routine, and possibly even part of your very identity. You’ll just have to trust me that this was an unusual thing to have happen to my mouth.)

Now, I subscribe to the strong belief that coffee is an exceptionally untasty thing. I wouldn’t call it nasty, but that’s sheerly because I respect the good that it does in the world.

So I generally avoid it.

And yet, this morning, I partook.

I suppose this is what happens when you’re unexpectedly asked to attend a meeting ten minutes before it starts; when you stayed up late working on other projects; and when h you aren’t utterly certain you’ll even stay awake through the meeting, much less pay attention.

(I should probably admit that it was only half a cup, because I needed room for the disgustingly excessive amounts of cream and sugar necessary to make it palatable.)

(But then I did the same thing after my meeting, so…)


In the midst of all this unusual-for-me caffeine consumption, I had a revelation.

Coffee is medicine.


Coffee is medicine for tired.

Many of you already knew this, but perhaps because you do, in fact, think the stuff tastes good, you didn’t bother to explain this to me.

Shame on you.

This means I can stop thinking that I may as well not drink coffee because I don’t like the taste. I can just drink it to feel like I’m slightly less sleep-deprived on Mondays.

Coffee doesn’t have to be enjoyed! Because it’s medicine!

This is revolutionary.

And life-changing!


Is this how addiction starts?