Conversation from BMO

Random BMO Employee A: Hey N*&^! Ok did pretty much no one talk to you when you were up here? I thought I was invisible pretty much all morning to everyone but Brenda and Lisa until the people across from me started talking to me a while ago and came to the conclusion that I have the swine flu…delightful. Haha How are things down there?

Random BMO Employee B: Hahahahahah Welcome to 35!

You must be a way more cheery and happy looking person because every third person that walks by is like “looks like you’re having fun.” And I’m like oh don’t you know it sir. I think I got used to people ignoring me and forgot how to keep a fake happy smile on my face.

Give me the swine flu and then I won’t feel bad skipping work!

A: Haha I know I didn’t realize that it would be annoying sitting at that desk until I was sick last week and still had to act cheery saying “Good morning” to everyone when my throat was literally on fire. But it is kind of funny like a lot of people that pass you feel like they have to say something…most times about the weather, which is cool because I never have to check the weather anymore. haha

B:Oh god that is so funny. What are the perks of your temporary position at BMO Capital Markets? Well I never have to check the weather because I get to have banal small talk about the forecast with every 5th person that walks by. Nice. Oh and today there was this creepy uber persistent guy looking for a job who wouldn’t go away until someone came out and took his resume. And then he talked to the poor woman for like an hour. It was pathetic. Oh wait someone is coming need to plaster on a smile J


A: Oh my god, that’s sooo weird I wonder how he even got into the building without an appointment or anything. Do you know who it was that came out and was forced to talk to him? Haha kind of wish I would’ve been there to see that. HAHAHA I told you people are ridic about the paper towels! I love it though that even though they know that I’m the one that stocks everything they will complain to me that there are no paper towels instead of just asking if I could please put out some more. Honestly. Kills me.

B: Yeah there were pretty seriously agitated about it. I guess when you don’t have anything else to be agitate about paper towels become a big deal. Anyway crisis averted! ahahah

Pictures are Better than Words

Here was my weekend

Sunny Days make me Panic

Today is gorgeous. I mean high of 85, puffy white clouds that resemble forest creatures in the sky, want to wear a bikini top to work, kind of gorgeous.

I want to enjoy this rare glimpse of perfect weather but instead it reminds me of how long I have been in Chicago. 3 months and counting. Three months with no job progress, no career in sight, and what is most scary… no more of a grasp of what I want to do with my life.

I still think I could be a journalist or a writer or an event planner or a teacher or a business woman or a nonprofit director or a vineyard owner or a stay at home mom. In fact I don’t want to pick one of these things; I want to do them all.

And I hear you mom: just pick one and if you don’t like it move on. But in this economy, to get going you need to put ALL of yourself into one pursuit, into one career path.

I guess the real problem is that I can’t do anything half ass. I can’t just pick a career on the hunch I might like it, I need to know, to feel, that I am going to love it.

Just like this perfect day, I want to make a perfect career, filled with forest creatures and bikini tops.

Oh ironies of irony

Yesterday my boss gave me a single red rose at 8 a.m. to celebrate the start of Administrate Professionals Week. I was asked numerous times if I had won this season of the Bachelor.

Today I was sent to single handedly hand out flyers to every professional in the building. Me, the administrative assistant, was sent to give flyers to my professionals that basically instructed said professionals to say thank you to admins aka me. Needless to say I got more than one slightly sarcastic thank you very much.

If the object of Administrative Professional Week is to humiliate and patronize your admins then BMO by all means succeeds. Here’s another shout out to Corporate Canada!

Side note: Floor 9 makes me understand why people drink at work. I’m pretty sure one woman was drunk because she kind of teetered and paused before stepping to the side to make room for me in the labyrinth of 9. Also gay men make 9 more bearable. Thank you gay men for complimenting me on my ability to match my outfit to the flyer I was handing out.

Girls’ Night turns into Girls’ Hangover turns into Beautiful Girls’ Weekend

Admit it girls: We love a good girls’ nights out.

I’ll admit it. Occasionally I like to set down my well-worn copy of La Femme Mystique and go out on the town without one single feminist thought in my head.

I like to spend 2 hours getting gushied up: putting on 3 coats of eyeliner, teasing the crap out of my hair and stuffing myself into too small shoes/pants/dresses. I love going to the club and dancing like no one is watching but really knowing everyone is watching. I even love having the occasional cherry-topped drink bought for me. Sometimes it’s nice to embrace every single societal constructed stereotype of what it is to be a girl.

But what is even better than these hairspray filled nights are the chill girls’ weekend to follow. It is nice to wake up in your besty’s bed, with crazy cat curled up between your legs, and even crazier hair haloing your make-up smeared face. Yes it is nice to wake up a mess and not bother to fix it.

And after lounging around in borrowed pj’s for an hour and looking through the progressively drunker photos, it is perfect to throw on a skirt and a tank top and wander the suddenly summery streets of Chicago. After a Jamba Juice, followed by a massive coffee, mutual hangovers seem to disappear or at least fade and then of course the shopping is on.

What is amazing about girls and shopping, is it doesn’t matter if you actually find what you are looking for. Shopping is the journey not the destination. So after minimal purchases, it is lovely when our lunch “break” turns into a two hour long life conversations on the steps outside Chicago’s most adorable Italian café.

And how else could this perfect girls’ weekend end? Well only with dinner of amazing all organic and local appetizers at Uncommon Ground and the comedy show “Cupid Gets a Heart On” at the IO theater of course.

Yup girls weekend in Chicago is like life with a cherry on top.

Welcome the Return of Spring, Cheeriness and Non-Transparent Legs

Having lived in the Midwest my whole life, I often consider friendliness to be next to godliness. This 11th commandment of the upper Midwest goes beyond the indifference other regions call cordiality; it includes genuinely caring about the happiness of your city-mates, your region-mates, and genuinely anyone sharing this lovely planet with you.

For example, EL riders often bless sneezers, give up seats to wearied looking individuals and strike up conversations ranging from Blago to the new voiceovers on the CTA. In elevators people will tell you about the best long underwear, what fabric they are made of and where to find them for 40% off. On the sidewalk people will say hi, let you pet their dogs and give direction in such great detail they’ve walked you halfway to your destination by the time they are done.

I like to think this overt cheer is a natural Midwest trait and if it wasn’t also a natural Midwest trait to be humble, I would brag about it- especially to LA’ers.

But for the past few weeks the April blizzard followed by the April hail storm followed by a week of miserable cold seemed to freeze the time-honored tradition of niceties. On Monday a guy actually stepped on a foot on the EL and only offered me a grunted sorry instead of the customary foot massage with essential oils.

But with today’s high expected to hit 70 it appears the good will of Chicagoans has returned. Today I saw a guy hold the door to the el for rushing early morning suits, the RedEye lady “hoped I had a great day” and a juice delivery guy gave a traffic controller a free juice to start her morning.

Each little kind act of Midwestern friendliness added a little warmth to my heart on this already warming day. Awww cheesy.

My theory is that the Midwest is so frickin’ nice for two reasons. A) In the winter, you have to be nice to survive. You never know when you might need another warm body for heat. B) In the summer you are so relieved to survive the winter you just want to share you love with everyone until winter swallows you again.

I’m glad we are moving in B section of our niceties because honestly my legs were becoming translucent, and that just aint hott.

SO to Dinner Dates in Lakeview

Shout Out to Lakeview for rockin’ with the amazing dinner date spots.

Tonight HB impressed the hell out of me. Not only did the soft shelled crab make me believe again in the power of sea food, the BYOB’s waiter discreetly refilled glasses every 10 minutes and patiently explained all our amazing menu options. To top it all off was a chocolate cake so delicious you didn’t want to swallow.

Oh and the company wasn’t bad either ;)

A weekend in Geeb to remind me why I moved to Chicago

Going back home to Green Bay for the weekend is like going to a High School reunion; everybody is there- or at least everybody was at Stirups- the divey country western dance bar in “downtown.” Now listen I’m not dumping on Stirups- I love the dives and I love 3.50 rum and cokes- but sometimes you just don’t need to see your entire graduating class…especially when drunk.

Green Bay just reminds me of what I don’t want. I don’t want a downtown that consists of three blocks; I don’t want drunk driving to be permissible and a daily occurrence; I don’t want to correct gay jokes every 5 minutes; I don’t want to live in my past; I don’t want cheese heads to be acceptable club gear (just kidding on that one).

What I want is to make Chicago home and bring along the best of green bay- like china kitchen, los banditos hot sauce, the packers, karvana, my old yoga studio, and of course the besty.

Kafka + SmittenKitchen.com + Kate’s kitchen utensils = perfect Tuesday night dinner

I have been in a bit of a cooking frenzy lately that I’m going to blame on the depressingly cold weather outside. My body has been tricked into thinking winter is coming again and therefore I must gain 10 pounds by eating as many baked good as possible.

Thus far I have made scones, cookies and quiche and I’m not looking to stop anytime soon. Tonight’s menu included an avocado/strawberry salad and empanadas, made from a recipe from my new favorite website smittenkitchen.com.

V and I started out the night with a bottle of Malbec – the gloriously non-bitter red wine from Argentina. After drinking a glass of wine a little too fast, I started talking too much and cooking too little. But and hour and a half later, our golden brown beef empanadas were gloriously fragrant and ready to be dunked in tapatio sauce.

Chicago is brimming with so many remarkable restaurants, it can be hard to avoid the temptation of an easy dinner out. But after putting an hour’s worth a finger tip endangering work into a meal, it was perfect to sit down with the besty and consume the object of our labor.

So thank you Kafka’s Wine on Halsted for some smooth wine, smittenkitchen for supplying recipes I would never try unless you made them look so easy, kate for having the best god damn kitchen utensils in Chicago and V for being the besty.

BMO April Update

I have noticed that the majority of my posts focus on the weekend. This is because i don't have a real life during the week. What I have Monday through Friday is BMO; I have waking up at 5:30 a.m., sitting at a desk where phones don't ring, waiting for lunch, trying to remember subways lunch specials (is Tuesday the meatball sub special?), slight afternoon coffee buzz, and then counting down the minutes til 4. This is not life; this is life's suicide.

But I do have occasional moments of pathetic hilarity to keep me going. So without further delay, let me entertain you with stories from the dark abyss.

1) I stayed up late last night making cookies for the IT guys in my new department only to discover this morning that 1 was diabetic, 1 was on a diet and the other "just doesn't really care for sweets."

2) I spend the majority of my time looking for new jobs at my current job. One posting for an administrative assistant for "A Reputable Company."

3) The highlight of my week was rearranging my new desk.

4) The lady behind me who once yelled at me for talking about "personal matters" after work hours in the cubes, daily calls to make hair, nail and other "grooming" appointments. And note she does this during office hours. Yeah personal my not perfectly bronzed butt.

Blizzards in April: Not OK

I was OK with winter in Chicago. Really I was. Moving to the windy city, you have to accept that snow is going to fly up your nose on a weekly basis. But then you get a 60 degree day, spring is officially passed on the calendar and you can let your summer fantasies start...only to have the dashed by a friggin' blizzard in April.

For real, yesterday there was hail, sleet, and frickin' snow that left all of Chicago covered with a depressingly disgusting layer of slush. And with that all my spring resolutions were dampened.

So i'm now i'm back in my oversized sweats, eating pepperoni pizza and raw cookie dough, my eff you to chicago winter.

Sunday Night Fever: Comedy at a Dive Bar

I have found my dive bar and it is called: The Town Hall Pub. It is the only straight bar in boystown and lives up to that rep with old bar stools, bad lighting and after Sunday's hail fest, a leaky roof.

It also has some great beers on tap, some cool bartenders and free comdedy on sunday nights. Not only was this Sunday Julia, the kick-ass tatooed bartneder's birthday, but it was also host comedian's birthday, which meant every one knew everyone, everyone had been drunk with everyone and everyone intended to get to know everyone else even better by getting drunk and drunker.

Which, with 7 dollar pitchers, equaled a hilarious night. From pussy jokes to bush jokes to vagina jokes, the comedians didn't even attempt to keep it clean. At one point I helped the drunk host out of her new birthday dress and on to the stage so she could tell yet another "cum guzzler" joke. I didn't even know you could combine those words.

I may have had 1 too many pitchers and heard 8 too many words for vagina, but I have found my drinking stool away from home.

First Fridays: meh...

Let's just say i had a lot of expectations for the Museum of Contemporary Arts First Friday event. I had an outfit with my new cole haan's planned. I had an empty stomach ready for Wolfgang Puck appetizers. And I was pumped to mingle with some of Chicago's finest young people.



Instead I was perched on my too big 3 1/2 inch heels, trying to eloquently eat less-than-gourmet salad, rice and chicken legs , while talking to an old friend from Madison who doesn't even live in the city.

No not what I imagined.

As promised there was a DJ, although no one was dancing. And there was the much publicized dating personality test, although it was bogus ( I am soooo not charismatic blue). And of course, there were plenty of spiffy looking young Chicagoans, all of who seemed to stuck up to talk to anyone besides their immediate circle.

Seriously not what I imagined.

But despite my feet killing me, it was fun to mingle amomng art work, peruse possible prospects from the balcony and pretend to be a young up and coming professional for the night. At least for the night, gritting through my pinky blisters, i looked like i had my shit together.

Sometimes you need a little French in the morning

This morning as I was about to put my French roast coffee packet into the Coffee Express machine, I realized it was actually French Vanilla. Se la vi, I popped it in and enjoyed the sweet scents wafting up. Hmmmmm the French do everything better....

Including exporting their sexy accent to the French Canadians. Today the phones went out on M&A requiring a call at 7:30 in the morning to ComTel. I was greeted by a perky lady speaking french to whom I responded "Are you speaking French or do I just need to drink my morning coffee." Although she didn't find me amusing she did transfer me to Adam or Ad-um.

Let me just tell you that an hour call trying to fix the phone system is totally worth it when you are entertained by a french accent and little outburst in rapid french.

So just one obvious questions: Why are Canadians plauged with that awful extra vowel accent while their lovely neighbors monopolize all the sexy?