Sunday, October 30, 2022
Open Letter to the Chili's Corporation
Regular readers of this blog (if in fact they exist) know that I have historically been a huge Chili's booster. If given the opportunity, I would bathe in a Skillet Queso, and I consider the Cajun Chicken Pasta to be one of the great wonders of the modern world. When the downtown location of Chili's closed, I considered wearing black for a year, though ultimately fashion intervened. And perhaps the majority of my travels, domestic and international, have involved a stop at an O'Hare Chili's, even though they don't even have the full menu, which is of course a travesty. Point being: I like Chili's.
So it was especially distressing to me to be thwarted from settling in for a Megarita or two last night at the Chili's of North Riverside, where I was visiting my sister. Of course I could understand if a Chili's was simply filled past capacity with adoring Southwestern Eggroll fans. But we saw at least a dozen open tables as we entered the establishment. The issue, it seems, was that the Chili's was understaffed and could not accommodate the strain of an additional table for two. At least not for another fifteen minutes. I have never, of course, been so insulted in my life.
Thus, we went to the nearby Miller's Ale House, where we were greeted with open arms and something called Zingers Wings. Our server kept the Diet Coke refills and gentle sass coming, and Smashmouth was playing incredibly loudly in the men's restroom. Aside from the distressing fact that the calorie counts were listed on the menu, it was perfect.
So Chili's, you are on notice. There are other American casual dining companies out there. And my heart can be bought with complex carbohydrates.
Sunday, October 23, 2022
Pros and Cons
The weather in Chicago this weekend has been absolutely amazing. I cannot, of course, complain about this. I got to run outside, which makes exercise seem so much more palatable, and we spent some time on our friends' roof with their fire table, which in retrospect really called for ghost stories that we somehow did not tell. We also got a lot done around the house; Ian finally used the leaf blower thing he bought and I said he would never use, and I assembled a set of cabinets for my office space.
The downside may be that I will perhaps not be able to walk normally for a few days. Between all of the running and the four hours on the floor working on furniture, my back has become bitter and resentful, and I am currently lying on a heating pad in the bedroom trying not to move. (Typing doesn't count.) My legs aren't too happy either, frankly. This is an aspect of aging that I am absolutely not delighted with. During law school, I ran at least three miles every day and always felt pretty fine. Now I have have to limit myself to three days a week or digest my weight in Ibuprofen. (While we're at it, why is it that I used to be able to get loaded every weekend and eat a fourth meal at 3 AM without gaining a pound, while today I bloat up just looking at cheese?)
Anyway, I have no regrets, bedridden though I may be. I just need to get my hands on a little bell to ring to summon Ian for my various requests.
Saturday, October 15, 2022
Glamorous, Fergie Style
Sometimes my friends with kids assume that Ian and I live very glamorous and exciting lives because we do not have children. They'll mention a hot new restaurant I've never heard of and say "I'm sure you've been there." Or they'll suggest it must be strange to us that they are in bed by 10 PM, when as everyone knows 10 PM is when Murder, She Wrote comes on to the Hallmark channel, Aubrey takes her last bathroom trip of the day, and Ian and I slip into comas. Perhaps this misapprehension stems from some sense on my friends' part that they got out a lot more before they had kids? If so, they need to remember that they were also a lot younger before they had kids, and people in their forties don't need help from little ones to feel exhausted and stressed.
So this weekend my glamor and excitement have so far consisted of a trip to the grocery store, a trip to Target to pick up things I forgot to get at the grocery store, a trip to the gym, some light catching up on work, and an hour on the phone with my mother. Oh, and television. I do sometimes watch television. In this case, a Hallmark movie that I did not actually want to watch and barely registered. I'd like to say I'm finally reading Ulysses or something, but more and more I'm just accepting the fact that that is something I will do fifty pages at a time during plane trips for the next three years or so.
We do have plans with friends tonight, and are carving pumpkins with my sister and her family tomorrow. So I guess that's something. But I think the days of closing down bars and heading to the Lakeview IHOP to eat a fourth meal and potentially get an intestinal parasite are behind all of us. And that's okay. There is a lot of furniture to be picked out and Netflix to be watched.
Sunday, October 09, 2022
Arts & Culture
My mom and I went down to the Art Institute this weekend to see the new(ish) Hockney show. It was kind of interesting, in that he created all of these works on an iPad, much like I create crushed candy. I liked a lot of them, although there did seem to be a lot of the same tree. It was a good tree, in my view.
While we were there, we took advantage of the hour they allocate for just museum members every morning to actually enjoy art without people standing in front of it. It is so nice to be in the galleries without any crowds, although that does seem to encourage the guards to tell you their life stories. Or in the case of one very single-minded guard, follow you around telling you to keep your distance from the sculptures because they fall down easily and she doesn't know why they haven't done anything about that because she keeps telling them. Maybe it was performance art? Hard to say in this day and age.
We also had my sister's family over for a bit yesterday, which led to a lot of running up and down the hallway (them) and hiding valuables so as to not see them smashed to pieces (me). Eventually we just gave up and put on Lego Ninjago, which I did not understand a word of but found somewhat mesmerizing. The important thing was it kept the children at bay, so hopefully there are enough episodes to last until they are forty.
Now I'm watching a Castle marathon on Lifetime and mentally preparing to do some work. Mental preparation is so crucial. Work also, I guess, but where's the fun in that?
Sunday, October 02, 2022
In Treatment
I've been doing therapy for like a year and a half now. Before that, I spent approximately a decade telling people, "I know I should probably do therapy, but..." And the last two years or so of that I was actively looking up therapists that were covered by my insurance online, but finding problems with them, like that they were too far from my office, not taking new patients, or didn't look cool in their photographs. Then, my insurance added telemedicine during the pandemic, and we were off to the races. Over video, I felt like it was less of an investment and if I didn't like the person I could just quit. Of course that's not true; after all, I was not able to break up with either of my personal trainers and had to wait for one to quit the profession and the other to have the gym close on him. But fortunately it hasn't been an issue yet.
Therapy is weird. I always feel strange talking about myself so much. But, like, what are we going to do, talk about her? It turns out that just taking some time to talk through the many and different feelings that I'm having (hunger, itchiness, rage) is actually kind of helpful. There have been numerous times where I've been narrating some thrilling argument with my mother or my boss (two different people, at least nominally) for my therapist and have found myself looking at it a different way (though I'm still very, very right, of course). I know I still kind of use humor to deflect away from the tougher stuff that I don't actually want very much to talk about, but isn't it progress just to recognize that I'm doing that? Also, what the hell is progress, anyway?
I assume this will all be answered in a later episode of therapy. For now, I'm just going to go judge people on Instagram for spending their weekends watching Hocus Pocus 2.
