Welcome to The Queen City!

I made it!

The drive here felt like it took forever, but luckily for me, I had a couple good friends to help me out with the move, which made the task a little less daunting.

It's been in the 90s here all week, with really high humidity. My hair isn't too pleased with the move so far, but I'm starting to feel pretty comfortable. I've found my way to the library, grocery store and a few local parks, which means today I have more exploring to do in the shopping district. I also hope to find a yoga studio nearby.

When I moved to Chicago, I had my dad cleaning and organizing all my stuff as it was dropped inside my front door. This time, though, I was on my own. I had no idea how much stuff I actually have! Let's just say, it was enough to fill a 24' moving truck, plus my cute little Vibe. My new place is a little bigger than my Boystown walkup, but my bedroom is smaller so I have to pare down the furniture a bit. What I'm most excited for is my office...formally known as the Pretentious Reading Room.

I use the term "office" loosely at this point. There's a futon for guests, a second bookshelf stuffed with books and an incredible desk, which is where I'll get my creative juices flowing, if you know what I mean. At least, that's the plan. There are a couple of universities nearby, so I would like to take on some editing work for dissertations and whatnot. There also might be some potential contract communications work for a few campaigns. My first priority, though, is the job I came here for, which starts on Monday! I'm so excited, and really looking forward to a true 9 to 5 gig. Not to mention, everyone I've met and interacted with so far have been amazing, and I think the work environment is going to be a great one on a lot of levels.

Here's the thing about going corporate, a fact that made it on both the pro and con list for Cincinnati: It's going to be amazing to not have work rule my life, and to be able to use my salary to not only support myself, but actually have a little fun. I'll be able to go to a 6 p.m. yoga class. I won't have to work on Saturdays. As a matter of fact, I can come home and cook myself dinner instead of jetting out of the office for a quick bite at 8 p.m. before going back to finish some press releases.

The schedules I kept in Chicago made living a little difficult. My gym membership went mostly unused because I worked 15 hours a day. My commutes were long. I didn't have much time to meet people. My salary also wasn't anything to brag about. Of course, what I'm making now will go quickly once I factor in rent, a car payment and a 401K, but I think I've worked my budget out to allow me to take the trips I've been wanting to (look out Cali and NYC!!!), as well as have some fun around the City of Seven Hills (or Queen City, whichever you prefer).

In short, I'm feeling good, in spite of the heat. I made this offer to you all when I lived in Chicago, and I'll make it again--you always have a place to crash in Cincinnati if you feel like making a trip. Heck, I'll even sweeten the offer...a full-size futon instead of a couch. Any takers?

Be careful what you wish for.

I left Grand Rapids in a tizzy this morning, ready to get back to Chippewa Lake to finish packing and spend a little time by myself. Bad call.

It's no secret the last couple of months have been tough, and that without reliable cable and cell service, I've been more isolated than an indigenous tribe in the Amazon. In reality, though, Chippewa Lake is my most favorite destination in the whole world...and I wouldn't want to spend my summer anywhere else.

The last few weeks have been unbearably hot and humid, but as I drove around the bend and saw the sun glistening off the water, the most amazing breeze drifted over the lake and brought the smell of Chippewa rushing to my head. Nothing quite compares to the damp, piney fresh smell of the air here, and now with all the windows open, I'm surrounded by the scent that I wish could follow me all the way to Cincinnati.

The truth is, I was never really excited to move back here for a job. I'd been flirting for a long time with the idea of being a reporter, and felt like that move was my first really responsible decision. Chicago had been pretty much a cake walk. I had friends, a stage to karaoke on a couple nights a week and a blow-off job (not the campaign, of course) that paid me a lot of money to hang out with some of the cutest kids in the Midwest. Not bad. So when I accepted the gig in Big Rapids, I thought the pit in my stomach was because I was leaving a place I loved. As it turns out, that was part of it. More than the sadness of leaving, though, was questioning if the decision was the right one.

I feel different about Cincinnati. I am excited. I also feel nervous. I don't know anyone there. It's close to Kentucky. My job is really technical. I passed up another amazing job for this one. I think I sold out by going corporate. I didn't see my friends before I left. I might have forgotten something. I have a car payment. I really have to budget. I have to move all my stuff...again.

This is going to be tough, and up until now, it's all felt surreal.

Since I started my college search about a million years ago, I've craved an adventure. An adventure that would shove me out of my comfort zone and make me fend for myself. While Chicago and Big Rapids held their merits on the adventure scale, this move is a total leap of faith. I only hope that this leap turns out to be the one that helps put me on track.

The lake is perfect tonight. I wish you were here with me to chat, share a glass of wine and look out over the water. In a couple hours, the sun will melt into the trees directly across from my cottage, and the water will turn bright orange and red. It's the perfect time to swim or paddle down the road of light leading from my dock to the sunset. It's fitting, really, to spend the night here. A perfect evening in my favorite place...another little goodbye to home.

Here we go again!

I'm moving to Cincinnati!

Things in my world change at warp speed, but I think this move will finally bring a little stability to my life.

I start work at Mercer, a human resources consulting firm, in August, and I could not be more excited. I think this move will be an adventure and a challenge ... even more so than Chicago was. You see, when I moved there, I knew a few people, I had a few friends. I don't know anyone in Cincinnati. Actually, the only person I know in Ohio is my sister, who goes to school 40 minutes from Cincy.

I'm excited for what's to come. More excited than I ever was about moving back to the Mitten. This feels right, it passes the gut test. I'm ready to jump in with both feet, and see where life takes me next.
There's more updates to come, but if you have any suggestions about Cincinnati or Ohio, let me know. I'm flying blind!

Settling in.

I wrapped up my second week at the Pioneer yesterday, and I finally feel like I'm getting my sea legs.

I was pretty surprised to find out that the transition back to small-town life was harder than the transition to Chicago. I asked myself at least a dozen times during my first week why the hell I'd moved back to this place. It's too quiet to sleep. There's no police station nearby. Everything closes at 6. I have to drive to get everywhere. Wolf spiders have invaded the cottage. I need to switch banks...again.

Now, though, I'm adjusting.

Work is going well. The office environment is better than any I've worked in before, and I feel pretty privileged to be working with so many great people. The community also has been really welcoming, which is a nice change of pace.

Guinness and Miller have moved in with me for the time being, although, I think I'll bring them back to Mom and Dad tomorrow. Kath won't admit it, but she misses her boys and often asks how they're doing before moving on to me.

I think the real turning point came when I saw my first byline in the Pioneer. It feels different to see your name in print off-campus, I guess. It feels a little more real now, and I think I'm doing an alright job so far.

All-in-all, things are going well. My pity party is over, and I'm ready to make this my home for the next couple years. I can't wait to see where this leads, but for now, I'm content to be right here.

Who says you can't go home?

A job interview brought me back to the Mitten for a couple of days. And you know what? It felt so good to be home.

As Kait and I drove under the Pure Michigan welcome banner, a smile tugged at my lips and it suddenly hit me that no matter where I go, Michigan always will be my home.

The day before my interview, I spent a few minutes sitting at U Cup reminiscing about the five crazy years I spent at Central. And you know what? There were a lot of really crummy days during that time, but in reality, the good times outweigh the bad 100 fold, so I can't complain.

Well, the interview was a success because yesterday morning, I was offered a reporting position at the Big Rapids Pioneer. Yup, I'm a reporter now...well, will be in 2 weeks anyway. I start on April 5 and am incredibly excited to dig into the city beat.

How am I going to go from living in fabulous Chicago (Boystown, no less) to Big Rapids? Well...I'll survive. The truth is, I want to report. I want to learn. I'm ready to start my career. I'm taking the advice of numerous veteran reporters who all told me to pick some small town and report there to build my resume and hone my experience...it's just a coincidence that the small town is the one I spent my childhood summers in and is a mere hour from Grand Rapids.

I'd be lying, though, if I said today's sunshine and 70 degree teaser didn't make me rethink my decision. As I laid on the grass in Lincoln Park, I found myself thinking 'Maybe I could spend just one more summer being irresponsible...'

The last 10 months have been incredible. My place is finally decorated and Chicago feels comfortable now. Maybe it's the breeze coming through the window as I type this, but I'm already feeling a little homesick for my vintage walk up. I also have some randoms on the way to pick up a good portion of my living room furniture just so I won't have to move it back to Michigan.

The next couple weeks will be crazy...I need to sublet my place, take a drug test, cancel my cable and find a new home. A new home.

It's clear that 2010 is intent on trumping 2009 as the most adventurous year of my life...and all I can say is: Bring it on.

Rollercoaster rides are fun.

Is it really the end of February 2010? Only two short years ago, almost to the day, I made a huge mistake by re-opening contact with my ex-boyfriend. Of course, the outcome was just as bad as everyone expected it to be, but I learned my lesson and have moved on. As a matter of fact, Ally told me the other day she hardly even remembers the dark period in my life that was that relationship…because I’m finally back to being me again. This is a great thing.

A year after that, almost to the day, I went out drinking with my favorite Italian Stallion, Mr. Alex Piazza. I got a little too out of control, resulting in the loss of my clutch in a cab. Inside the clutch? My wallet, debit card and camera. Awesome.

I can’t believe that was only a year ago.

I can’t believe it’s been less than a year since I graduated from CMU, and even less time since I moved to Chicago.

Whoever said life comes at you fast wasn’t kidding. Actually, fast doesn’t even begin to describe it. Life moves at its own ridiculous pace and just offers each one of us the opportunity to tag along. It’s not going to wait, it doesn’t really care what you want and it’s certainly not going to slow down.

I guess it’s that combo that’s so exciting and frustrating all at the same time.

Probably the only thing stranger than life’s own agenda, is how much can be packed into a few short months. I think I lost perspective of how time works while I was in college. The repetitiveness of class, meetings, party…class, meetings, party…made me feel like things moved really slowly. I felt like change, at least for me, was not on the docket.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Without the security of school, and in an economy like this, nothing is stable. I’ve been in Chicago for eight months—that’s less than an academic year!—and I’ve packed more living in than I did in five years at CMU. (That’s probably my fault, but I didn’t realize that even though life has its own plan, I had the ability to hop on board. As a matter of fact, that probably would have been a lot easier than me trying to control the uncontrollable for as long as I can remember.)  

I’ve given up worrying for Lent. Yup…worrying. As a Sicilian, this is not easy, and even though I try to block the stress, it continues to manifest itself in hives all over my arms and legs, and horrible bouts of heartburn. Still, I do feel better about my life because there are things I now accept I cannot control.

Like the biggest stressor for me…not having a real job.

Sure, I have another nannying gig, and it’s fine, and the family loves me, and I dig the baby. Fine. But I am ready to do something more.

In an ideal world, I’d be able to find a job here in Chicago, keep my apartment, make new friends and let my roots get deep. But you know what? That probably won’t happen. I’ve accepted it, and I’ve started looking for jobs all over the country.

I realize that what I really want to do is report. I love it, and it gives me a high I haven’t felt since I gave up singing classically. Basically, filing a story feels like singing a high D above middle C from the altar in St. Andrew’s Cathedral. To do that, though, I need to go where the jobs are—which there are a few, and they’re all in small-town America.

A few months ago, this realization would have sent me into a tailspin of anxiety, but not anymore. I’m actually having fun applying for the jobs, and I’m looking forward to seeing where it takes me. I’m exciting to discover stories. I’m ready to go.

I’m also ready to go with the flow.

This is my chance…this is my life! It’s all mine and only mine…and even though it’s going to go where it wants, I have the choice to start fighting back again, or let go and just enjoy the ride.

So this is my commitment to myself: I’ll keep my eyes wide open and my hands reached high above my head, because this is my personal roller coaster ride, and I’m not going to miss a single turn. 

A quick trip back to Chicago circa 1939.

Last week, I had the opportunity to meet State Representative Sara Feigenholtz, Feigie, as she is commonly referred to around our office.

I actually recognize her face from a huge banner that hangs at the Addison Red Line stop. Ms. Feigenholtz' district happens to cover my neighborhood, and when I shook her hand, mentioned that I'd seen her banner.

"Where do you live?" she asked.

"Waveland and Halsted...in Boystown," I said.

"Ahhh...the Mecca!"

Yes--Boystown--the Mecca.

I love my little neighborhood, but as you probably know, I make a long trek to the suburbs every day. The thing about Chicago's suburbs is...well, they're breathtaking. Winding through the narrow streets literally turns back the clock almost a century in most instances, taking me far from the Mecca and planting my feet in a simpler, prettier time.

On most mornings, I stop in Wilmette to pick up David and haul him into the office with me. There's a little place I pass called Alchemy Coffee House (www.alchemycoffeehouse.com), that is so nondescript, it kind of blends in. There's no big sign out front, no parking lot...just a little building with a front wall made of all windows.

I've stopped in a couple times for a quick brew, but the other morning, decided to sit for a while.

They only take cash at Alchemy, and the coffee menu isn't extensive, but it's so good. So are the fig pecan scones.

The interior of Alchemy is a nostalgic tribute to old Wilmette. Old jazz wafts through a record machine propped in the corner, and plastic-covered copies of old editions of Wilmette Life are available to leaf through.

In the winter 1949 copy I chose, ads for a dry cleaning company touted protection from evil moths...little flighty creatures dressed in Indian headdresses. An article about Mrs. John Franklin getting a promotion was one of the top articles...though, it never mentions her name. And there are pages and pages of engagement and wedding announcements.

It's not hard to imagine living in the 1950s while perched in the small, sun-drenched Alchemy Coffee House. Across the street, the storefronts look like they haven't been touched since that decade, anyway. Most of the North Shore looks like this, actually, with small downtowns not only meticulously preserved, but appreciated for their originality and warmth.

In the same small town of Wilmette, the local theatre stands as a testament to the North Shore's commitment to its roots. We held an event at the Wilmette Theatre (the Mette, for short) for work last week, and I had the good fortune of going there early to set up.

Just a short jaunt from Alchemy, the Wilmette Theatre's (www.wilmettetheatre.com) marquee boasts names of movies, shows and artists who will appear on one of its two stages.

Needless to say, the venue is teeny, but it has so much character and charisma. I met one of the owners, Carol, and her love for the place just seeps out of her. A photo of the theatre taken in 1939 hangs on the wall, and it's not hard to imagine what it wouldn't have been like to visit the Mette for a film back then...mostly because it seems like nothing's changed.

The one thing I will miss about this job, is the time I get to spend on the North Shore. I'm on the Wilmette Theatre's mailing list, though, so I'm sure I'll be back up that way for a show--or two. That's another beautiful thing about this city and the small towns that sprawl out from it: thanks to trains, nothing is too far away.