After spending the four years of college transitioning from one cramped, grimy apartment to the next, I was ready for a blank canvas when I moved to Chicago. I don’t think my employers got the memo that I was meant to have a fantastically glamorous apartment so when the realities of how far my paychecks would take me set in, I had to settle for a shoebox in Lincoln Park with a strategy to deal with my cramped quarters – spend as little time at home as possible.
And that’s exactly what I did. In the process of exploring Chicago’s neighborhoods, I fell in love with Wicker Park. It’s a contradiction at every level – hipsters sip coffee next to young families inching toasted suburbia, hip hop music throbs in various bars while the banjoes twang at Big Star – an atmosphere that can only be described as urban rustic. I decided that I wanted to live in the midst of it all.
I was ecstatic when I realized that my pennies could be stretched to nickels and after obsessive stalking on Craigslist, I found the perfect place. From the outside it looked rundown and somewhat eerie but that was a small price to pay for all the windows and yes, truly, a fireplace!
One thing you’ll realize about me is that I’m the stereotypical procrastinator. I have a hard time getting stuff done, unless I feel the pressure of a deadline. And this blog didn’t escape that pattern. So, bear with me, as I backtrack a little and fill you in on what I’ve been doing in the past few months, sprinkled with my current obsessions and musings. I hope you enjoy!