Sunday, November 20, 2011
Day 3
Today was my first day of work. My command center was set up on my kitchen island. With my work laptop, an extra monitor, my personal laptop and internet phone, I was all set to go. Work, as it often does, dragged on. With the time difference, I do have the luxury of starting at 10am, but that also means that I'm done at around 7pm. For the purposes of this visit, I would work west coast hours, but that might need to change if this becomes permanent.
For the evening's activities, I planned for a night at the Lyric Opera of Chicago. As much as I am a fan of the arts, opera has never really been my cup of tea. However, recently over the summer, I did see a performance of a Puccini opera at the Hollywood Bowl that wasn't horrible. Granted, it wasn't a staged production, but the music was compelling enough to warrant giving opera another try. When I was planning my visit, I found I had two choices of programs - one was the more serious production - Tales of Hoffman. It is a staggering 3 hours long... but it received good reviews and its staging looked fantastic. The second production was a light comedy for which I cannot even recall the name. I felt that in order to get the true "Opera" experience and to really give it a shot, I would go for the serious Tales of Hoffman. Unfortunately, the only performance that would fit into my schedule was for a Monday performance. Three hours on a Monday night at the opera??? I know, I was doubting the choice also.
During my previous visit, I was able to enjoy the Chicago Architecture Boat Tour and we passed the Opera building. It's a gorgeous Art Deco building and I was sure the interior would be just as impressive. At the very least, I would get to see the building, right?
The next night, I was planning on going to a Blackhawks hockey game (more details in tomorrow's post), and my acquaintance Bill had told me that he would lend me his Blackhawks jersey. I made arrangements to conveniently go pick it up tonight so that I would have a great excuse to duck out of the opera early. I mean, really? 3 full hours? I didn't think I would last.
I took a cab to the Opera House and with the construction going on and my natural tardiness, I walked in just as they were about to start. As the lights went down, I looked at the program quickly.... TWO intermissions. Wow. Okay... I would stay until the second intermission and then leave. Perfect. To my left sat a younger gay couple that wanted nothing to do with me or anyone around us. To my right sat two older ladies that didn't seem to want to chat either. That's okay... I hunkered down for the show.
Yeah.... Opera is still not my cup of tea. This opera was about a man - Hoffman that was unlucky in love. Quite frankly, it was just kinda boring. There were supertitles projected over the screen, so I was able to follow the story, but my... that didn't help. There is no spoken dialog. Every word is sung. But you know... maybe I'm just spoiled with all the musical theater that I see. Les Miserables is all sung, but it's engaging all the way through. Opera has a lot of people just standing around singing. Prior to the first intermission, we were given the background of Hoffman and taken through an act where he fell in love with this seemingly perfect woman that turned out to be a robot. Yes, it wasn't that exciting for me either. The woman performer was quite talented and her singing was quite good, but it didn't save the production for me. Intermission came and I ducked out for the restroom, which is located in the basement. I maneuvered through the crowds and made my way to the line that wrapped around the entire room. Along the way, I did admire the beautiful art deco chandeliers. They really were quite magnificent and if I were really into art deco, I would have wanted to copy them.
Surprisingly, the line for the restroom moved quickly with the help of many attendants that moved the crowd along. As I went back my seat, I noticed the gay couple was also gone. In order not to have the ladies get up twice, I hung back. I noticed the wall sconces... they were quite lovely. As the couple arrived, I took my seat and the ladies opened up to me and asked me what I thought of the production. Now, this is where I'm socially retarded. Normal people would say that they were enjoying themselves. I was honest and told them that I found it to be a bit tedious. Apparently, I was speaking to two ladies that didn't afford themselves many luxuries beyond attending the opera so they were taken aback a bit. We exchanged pleasantries and thankfully the production started up again.
I really tried to enjoy myself. The second act was about a songstress whose had a weak heart and would die if she sang. Apparently Hoffman was all that and inspired her to sing and she died. But somewhere in there, I think the story went that her father knew that she would die if she sang but never told her. How messed up is that? I had lost interest and hoped that the singing would keep me at least partially entertained, but it was just boring. The second intermission finally came around and I bolted for the door. I just needed to get into a cab and go to Bill's house to pick up the jersey. As I stood in line for a cab, however, I switched my phone back on and got a text from Bill. He was feeling ill and went to bed early. He would try to bring the jersey to me tomorrow at my place. Well, shoot... I left the opera early to meet him... and there were no ins and outs.... not that I felt I was missing anything... but still. With no deadline, I decided to walk home... it was a nice night and I had a general idea of where I was headed. It was late, but I was thinking it would be okay for me to walk alone, so I headed off.
The walk from the Opera House to my place took me straight through the middle of downtown. It was pretty empty and I made sure to be aware of my surroundings and the people that were around. For the most part, it was pretty empty. I liked the quiet of the streets and liked knowing that during the day, these streets were bustling with activity. I walked by a building with a big open plaza in front of it. In the plaza was a massive red sculpture that was obviously a Picasso work. I would later find that this was Daley Plaza... a very popular spot for gatherings and activities. It was about a mile back to my place and it was just before 11 that I got home. Along the way, I realized I was kind of hungry, but didn't notice any places to eat. Fortunately, across the street from my building is the Fairmont Hotel. I knew there would be a restaurant there and was hoping that I would be able to grab a bite.
The regular restaurant was closed but the sushi bar would still serve me. I was reluctant - sushi and Chicago aren't really two things that go hand in hand. But I had no choice. I sat and was kinda sad to be alone. Oh well. I order some food and it wasn't long until a lady who had been walking by decided to sit down next to me after discovering that sushi was her only option also. She was obviously there often as she knew the sushi chef and they chatted away. Eventually, we exchanged greetings and before I knew it, I was telling her my whole story. Her name was Calo. She was an older (late 40's?) Filipina lady. She was a nurse and massage therapist and had just come from church choir practice. She loves Chicago and had been there for about 15 years since being accepted to the Art Institute to study. She has a huge home in Ohio but spends most of her time in a tiny apartment next door to the Fairmont. Calo's warmth was everything that I needed to ward off any lonliness that I was feeling. She encouraged me to come to Chicago and take it in for all it had to offer. She warned of the brutal winters, but put a positive spin on it by telling me that as women, we could have fun with the layering of clothes and delicious cashmere. She told me no matter what that I would have a friend in Chicago in her. Thinking of her smile still warms my soul.
As the evening went on... we shared stories and a gentleman came to sit next to us and eat and drink sake. He interupted us to ask if we would like to have some of his sake, as he ordered too much. He was a French Canadian - from Montreal and his name was Pierre. He was a much older gentleman and he said he was staying at the hotel on business. He also agreed that Chicago is a magnificent city. We all chatted for a bit and wound up the evening just before 1:00. It was a nice way to end what I thought was going to be a wasted evening.....
For the evening's activities, I planned for a night at the Lyric Opera of Chicago. As much as I am a fan of the arts, opera has never really been my cup of tea. However, recently over the summer, I did see a performance of a Puccini opera at the Hollywood Bowl that wasn't horrible. Granted, it wasn't a staged production, but the music was compelling enough to warrant giving opera another try. When I was planning my visit, I found I had two choices of programs - one was the more serious production - Tales of Hoffman. It is a staggering 3 hours long... but it received good reviews and its staging looked fantastic. The second production was a light comedy for which I cannot even recall the name. I felt that in order to get the true "Opera" experience and to really give it a shot, I would go for the serious Tales of Hoffman. Unfortunately, the only performance that would fit into my schedule was for a Monday performance. Three hours on a Monday night at the opera??? I know, I was doubting the choice also.
During my previous visit, I was able to enjoy the Chicago Architecture Boat Tour and we passed the Opera building. It's a gorgeous Art Deco building and I was sure the interior would be just as impressive. At the very least, I would get to see the building, right?
The next night, I was planning on going to a Blackhawks hockey game (more details in tomorrow's post), and my acquaintance Bill had told me that he would lend me his Blackhawks jersey. I made arrangements to conveniently go pick it up tonight so that I would have a great excuse to duck out of the opera early. I mean, really? 3 full hours? I didn't think I would last.
I took a cab to the Opera House and with the construction going on and my natural tardiness, I walked in just as they were about to start. As the lights went down, I looked at the program quickly.... TWO intermissions. Wow. Okay... I would stay until the second intermission and then leave. Perfect. To my left sat a younger gay couple that wanted nothing to do with me or anyone around us. To my right sat two older ladies that didn't seem to want to chat either. That's okay... I hunkered down for the show.
Yeah.... Opera is still not my cup of tea. This opera was about a man - Hoffman that was unlucky in love. Quite frankly, it was just kinda boring. There were supertitles projected over the screen, so I was able to follow the story, but my... that didn't help. There is no spoken dialog. Every word is sung. But you know... maybe I'm just spoiled with all the musical theater that I see. Les Miserables is all sung, but it's engaging all the way through. Opera has a lot of people just standing around singing. Prior to the first intermission, we were given the background of Hoffman and taken through an act where he fell in love with this seemingly perfect woman that turned out to be a robot. Yes, it wasn't that exciting for me either. The woman performer was quite talented and her singing was quite good, but it didn't save the production for me. Intermission came and I ducked out for the restroom, which is located in the basement. I maneuvered through the crowds and made my way to the line that wrapped around the entire room. Along the way, I did admire the beautiful art deco chandeliers. They really were quite magnificent and if I were really into art deco, I would have wanted to copy them.
Surprisingly, the line for the restroom moved quickly with the help of many attendants that moved the crowd along. As I went back my seat, I noticed the gay couple was also gone. In order not to have the ladies get up twice, I hung back. I noticed the wall sconces... they were quite lovely. As the couple arrived, I took my seat and the ladies opened up to me and asked me what I thought of the production. Now, this is where I'm socially retarded. Normal people would say that they were enjoying themselves. I was honest and told them that I found it to be a bit tedious. Apparently, I was speaking to two ladies that didn't afford themselves many luxuries beyond attending the opera so they were taken aback a bit. We exchanged pleasantries and thankfully the production started up again.
I really tried to enjoy myself. The second act was about a songstress whose had a weak heart and would die if she sang. Apparently Hoffman was all that and inspired her to sing and she died. But somewhere in there, I think the story went that her father knew that she would die if she sang but never told her. How messed up is that? I had lost interest and hoped that the singing would keep me at least partially entertained, but it was just boring. The second intermission finally came around and I bolted for the door. I just needed to get into a cab and go to Bill's house to pick up the jersey. As I stood in line for a cab, however, I switched my phone back on and got a text from Bill. He was feeling ill and went to bed early. He would try to bring the jersey to me tomorrow at my place. Well, shoot... I left the opera early to meet him... and there were no ins and outs.... not that I felt I was missing anything... but still. With no deadline, I decided to walk home... it was a nice night and I had a general idea of where I was headed. It was late, but I was thinking it would be okay for me to walk alone, so I headed off.
The walk from the Opera House to my place took me straight through the middle of downtown. It was pretty empty and I made sure to be aware of my surroundings and the people that were around. For the most part, it was pretty empty. I liked the quiet of the streets and liked knowing that during the day, these streets were bustling with activity. I walked by a building with a big open plaza in front of it. In the plaza was a massive red sculpture that was obviously a Picasso work. I would later find that this was Daley Plaza... a very popular spot for gatherings and activities. It was about a mile back to my place and it was just before 11 that I got home. Along the way, I realized I was kind of hungry, but didn't notice any places to eat. Fortunately, across the street from my building is the Fairmont Hotel. I knew there would be a restaurant there and was hoping that I would be able to grab a bite.
The regular restaurant was closed but the sushi bar would still serve me. I was reluctant - sushi and Chicago aren't really two things that go hand in hand. But I had no choice. I sat and was kinda sad to be alone. Oh well. I order some food and it wasn't long until a lady who had been walking by decided to sit down next to me after discovering that sushi was her only option also. She was obviously there often as she knew the sushi chef and they chatted away. Eventually, we exchanged greetings and before I knew it, I was telling her my whole story. Her name was Calo. She was an older (late 40's?) Filipina lady. She was a nurse and massage therapist and had just come from church choir practice. She loves Chicago and had been there for about 15 years since being accepted to the Art Institute to study. She has a huge home in Ohio but spends most of her time in a tiny apartment next door to the Fairmont. Calo's warmth was everything that I needed to ward off any lonliness that I was feeling. She encouraged me to come to Chicago and take it in for all it had to offer. She warned of the brutal winters, but put a positive spin on it by telling me that as women, we could have fun with the layering of clothes and delicious cashmere. She told me no matter what that I would have a friend in Chicago in her. Thinking of her smile still warms my soul.
As the evening went on... we shared stories and a gentleman came to sit next to us and eat and drink sake. He interupted us to ask if we would like to have some of his sake, as he ordered too much. He was a French Canadian - from Montreal and his name was Pierre. He was a much older gentleman and he said he was staying at the hotel on business. He also agreed that Chicago is a magnificent city. We all chatted for a bit and wound up the evening just before 1:00. It was a nice way to end what I thought was going to be a wasted evening.....
Day 2
After sleeping in a bit for recovery, I knew I had to get my office up and running. First order of business was getting an additional monitor. Quick internet search revealed a Staples within walking distance downtown. Strapped on a backpack and headed out. Now, for normal folk, I don't think you understand how novel this idea of walking to a store is. But, it's just something we don't do in Los Angeles. Walking is bad enough but carrying something? Pshaw! Thankfully it was a nice day and since it was pretty early in the day, it was quiet out.
I had tickets for the Sunday Matinee at the Chicago Symphony. The Chicago Symphony Orchestra wouldn't be playing, but Hilary Hahn, a renowned violinist, would be playing. Hilary Hahn came on the classical music scene in her teens as a violin prodigy. And over the years, I've seen her in concert a number of times. Now in her early thirties, I'm very impressed to still see progression in her ability. Her tone is amazing and she has that certain energy that obviously comes from her loving what she does. I had booked these tickets based on her and wasn't even sure what the program was.
To my delight, it was a very intimate format of just her and a piano. In the classical music world, this is a rarity. Such a grand venue can accommodate a full orchestra, and they usually take full advantage. However, the program revealed that this was quite purposeful. Hilary Hahn is a big fan of the single violin/piano format, which is not in vogue currently. And in effort to bring back the format, Hahn had commissioned 26 new works from contemporary composers for a violin and a piano. They would be encore performances - just a few minutes in length each. She would perform 13 of those pieces in the matinee along with works of Bach and Beethoven.
The encores were varied in style, ranging from beautifully melodic to somewhat atonal. I liked them very much because their novelty forced me to listen. My appreciation of classical music has widely broadened over the years and listening to these pieces and truly enjoying them made me realize how fortunate I was to have developed these tastes. Hilary played each piece beautifully. She took the microphone to thoughtfully introduce each encore. And in between when she forgot what she was playing, she hopped over to her music stand in her gown... still such a charming child.
Hilary Hahn has been on the classical music scene for about a decade and a half. She's not a veteran, but is certainly one of the foremost female violinists today. And despite her young age, she has is using her position to try to effect change in this genre. I find this incredibly impressive. It's a bold choice to commission so many contemporary works. It promotes the composers, to be sure and opens concert-goers - such as myself - to things outside our natural comfort zone. It's a risk... and I loved it.
As the intermission came and I contemplated running out for a drink, the woman next to me struck up a conversation. She was probably in her sixties, there with her husband. She asked me if I was enjoying myself and I told her I was, that I was from out of town, but that I had heard Hilary in concert on multiple occasions before. She asked what I was doing in Chicago and I proceeded to tell her of my scheme to figure out if I wanted to move here. She was excited for me and encouraged me to make the move. And as the conversation progressed, as it often does, it led to my disclosure of many details of my life, namely my family relationship. She listened intently and told me that all her kids lived within 5 minutes for her suburban home and that they got along splendidly well. I told her that I wished it could be that way for me, too, but that it wasn't. She was very nice and expressed sympathy for my situation. As intermission came to a close, we wrapped up our conversation and turned our focus back to the performance. Two pieces later, as we applauded, she leaned over to me and whispered in my ear that I could still be a good daughter from Chicago. I thought that was really sweet and I told her that I knew that. It was just another afirmation that Chicago is the right way to go.
After the concert was done, I decided to walk back home. It was only a few blocks up Michigan Avenue. It was still light out and just chilly enough to warrant my trench coat, but warm enough to make it enjoyable. It was late Sunday afternoon and there were tons of people out on the street. Millennium Park was on my right and I walked by fountains and Cloud Gate (the huge silver jelly bean). As I looked up at the beautiful architecture of the Chicago Public Library and surrounding buildings and walked with the sun on me... I felt the vibrant energy of city. I knew in that moment that I was falling deeply in love with Chicago. How could I not?
I went home and got ready for my first date of my trip. After leaving my relationship of 11 years, I took about a year off to gather myself and center. Recently, however, I felt that I was ready to meet people and "get out there" again. Planning trips, buying tickets and making reservations without anyone in particular in mind was starting to get to me and I wanted to share and learn again. So, in this day and age, I joined the world of online dating. As the commercial says, there were tons of people that I had heard had met their mates on match.com. I'm not expanding my social circles, so why not? LA dating was a sobering experience - and if I'm to be honest, probably one of the reasons why moving to Chicago sounded appealing. But I thought that Match.com would be a great opportunity to establish some contacts in a new city and maybe get some willing volunteers to show me around. I added a paragraph to my profile and let everyone know exactly what the situation was and made a few dates.
My first date was with D. It wasn't too deep into our first conversation on the phone that I realized that he lived in the EXACT building I would be staying in. Okay... this could be either really good or really bad. To purpose, I never told him which floor I was on - you never know! But, it turns out, D is a really nice guy. We made plans to go to the Purple Pig - a great restaurant where no reservations are accepted. But, by the time we met, I was starving, so in order to avoid a long wait, we went to another restaurant. Conversation flowed nicely. It was really easy to talk and be very honest with D. We moved from the restaurant to a bar and sat there for a while just chatting the night away. We left the bar and decided to walk home because it was so nice out. It really was quite mild and walking in it was a pleasure. We walked by an art installation of a 25 foot Marilyn Monroe statue. I passed on taking a picture. A bit too kitschy for me... but I'm hoity toity like that.
Our route home took us along the river and we drank up the sites. There might have been a bit of smooching, but I'm not going to say. We slowly made our way home and went back to his place. His apartment is on a lower floor than mine. It has two bedrooms with a wraparound balcony. In addition to my view of the lake and Millennium Park, he has the added angle of Navy Pier. It's gorgeous at night. Take note... this good size two bedroom, two bath apartment will set you back $3400 per month! Lakeshore East is a new neighborhood that has a lot of appeal and it is priced accordingly! Parking is an additional $200+ per month! Don't get me wrong... it's very nice and the amenities are top-notch... but wow... that's a lot of money. Needless to say, I probably won't be living in this building when I move....
Hung out a bit and then headed home. It was hardly a walk of shame, but it was nice that it was just a few floors up.
I'm having a great time so far... too bad I have to work tomorrow!
I had tickets for the Sunday Matinee at the Chicago Symphony. The Chicago Symphony Orchestra wouldn't be playing, but Hilary Hahn, a renowned violinist, would be playing. Hilary Hahn came on the classical music scene in her teens as a violin prodigy. And over the years, I've seen her in concert a number of times. Now in her early thirties, I'm very impressed to still see progression in her ability. Her tone is amazing and she has that certain energy that obviously comes from her loving what she does. I had booked these tickets based on her and wasn't even sure what the program was.
To my delight, it was a very intimate format of just her and a piano. In the classical music world, this is a rarity. Such a grand venue can accommodate a full orchestra, and they usually take full advantage. However, the program revealed that this was quite purposeful. Hilary Hahn is a big fan of the single violin/piano format, which is not in vogue currently. And in effort to bring back the format, Hahn had commissioned 26 new works from contemporary composers for a violin and a piano. They would be encore performances - just a few minutes in length each. She would perform 13 of those pieces in the matinee along with works of Bach and Beethoven.
The encores were varied in style, ranging from beautifully melodic to somewhat atonal. I liked them very much because their novelty forced me to listen. My appreciation of classical music has widely broadened over the years and listening to these pieces and truly enjoying them made me realize how fortunate I was to have developed these tastes. Hilary played each piece beautifully. She took the microphone to thoughtfully introduce each encore. And in between when she forgot what she was playing, she hopped over to her music stand in her gown... still such a charming child.
Hilary Hahn has been on the classical music scene for about a decade and a half. She's not a veteran, but is certainly one of the foremost female violinists today. And despite her young age, she has is using her position to try to effect change in this genre. I find this incredibly impressive. It's a bold choice to commission so many contemporary works. It promotes the composers, to be sure and opens concert-goers - such as myself - to things outside our natural comfort zone. It's a risk... and I loved it.
As the intermission came and I contemplated running out for a drink, the woman next to me struck up a conversation. She was probably in her sixties, there with her husband. She asked me if I was enjoying myself and I told her I was, that I was from out of town, but that I had heard Hilary in concert on multiple occasions before. She asked what I was doing in Chicago and I proceeded to tell her of my scheme to figure out if I wanted to move here. She was excited for me and encouraged me to make the move. And as the conversation progressed, as it often does, it led to my disclosure of many details of my life, namely my family relationship. She listened intently and told me that all her kids lived within 5 minutes for her suburban home and that they got along splendidly well. I told her that I wished it could be that way for me, too, but that it wasn't. She was very nice and expressed sympathy for my situation. As intermission came to a close, we wrapped up our conversation and turned our focus back to the performance. Two pieces later, as we applauded, she leaned over to me and whispered in my ear that I could still be a good daughter from Chicago. I thought that was really sweet and I told her that I knew that. It was just another afirmation that Chicago is the right way to go.
After the concert was done, I decided to walk back home. It was only a few blocks up Michigan Avenue. It was still light out and just chilly enough to warrant my trench coat, but warm enough to make it enjoyable. It was late Sunday afternoon and there were tons of people out on the street. Millennium Park was on my right and I walked by fountains and Cloud Gate (the huge silver jelly bean). As I looked up at the beautiful architecture of the Chicago Public Library and surrounding buildings and walked with the sun on me... I felt the vibrant energy of city. I knew in that moment that I was falling deeply in love with Chicago. How could I not?
I went home and got ready for my first date of my trip. After leaving my relationship of 11 years, I took about a year off to gather myself and center. Recently, however, I felt that I was ready to meet people and "get out there" again. Planning trips, buying tickets and making reservations without anyone in particular in mind was starting to get to me and I wanted to share and learn again. So, in this day and age, I joined the world of online dating. As the commercial says, there were tons of people that I had heard had met their mates on match.com. I'm not expanding my social circles, so why not? LA dating was a sobering experience - and if I'm to be honest, probably one of the reasons why moving to Chicago sounded appealing. But I thought that Match.com would be a great opportunity to establish some contacts in a new city and maybe get some willing volunteers to show me around. I added a paragraph to my profile and let everyone know exactly what the situation was and made a few dates.
My first date was with D. It wasn't too deep into our first conversation on the phone that I realized that he lived in the EXACT building I would be staying in. Okay... this could be either really good or really bad. To purpose, I never told him which floor I was on - you never know! But, it turns out, D is a really nice guy. We made plans to go to the Purple Pig - a great restaurant where no reservations are accepted. But, by the time we met, I was starving, so in order to avoid a long wait, we went to another restaurant. Conversation flowed nicely. It was really easy to talk and be very honest with D. We moved from the restaurant to a bar and sat there for a while just chatting the night away. We left the bar and decided to walk home because it was so nice out. It really was quite mild and walking in it was a pleasure. We walked by an art installation of a 25 foot Marilyn Monroe statue. I passed on taking a picture. A bit too kitschy for me... but I'm hoity toity like that.
Our route home took us along the river and we drank up the sites. There might have been a bit of smooching, but I'm not going to say. We slowly made our way home and went back to his place. His apartment is on a lower floor than mine. It has two bedrooms with a wraparound balcony. In addition to my view of the lake and Millennium Park, he has the added angle of Navy Pier. It's gorgeous at night. Take note... this good size two bedroom, two bath apartment will set you back $3400 per month! Lakeshore East is a new neighborhood that has a lot of appeal and it is priced accordingly! Parking is an additional $200+ per month! Don't get me wrong... it's very nice and the amenities are top-notch... but wow... that's a lot of money. Needless to say, I probably won't be living in this building when I move....
Hung out a bit and then headed home. It was hardly a walk of shame, but it was nice that it was just a few floors up.
I'm having a great time so far... too bad I have to work tomorrow!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Arrival - Day 1
I knew in my heart that my decision was already made. But, being risk adverse, I felt the need to do further research to confirm that this was a good decision. I had some doubts in myself. What if I wasn't able to hack it? What if I ended up a shut in, scared to meet people? Some close friends helped me work through my anxieties and helped me to realize that at the very least, it would be a great two-week working vacation. What did I have to lose other than a little bit of money? Sold.
Flights between Los Angeles are surprisingly affordable if booked within a reasonable timeframe. I've paid more, on several occasions, to fly to Vegas. I had the foresight to book a morning flight that didn't require getting to the airport at the crack of dawn. How odd to fly and actually check a bag - something I never do... but with 2 weeks and unpredictable weather, a full office to support and just plain old stuff, I was overflowing.
The flight was uneventful. Emergency exit row makes life much more bearable. About halfway through the flight, I started chatting with the couple next to me and told them the purpose of the trip. Their excitement grew for me as I divulged more details. Wintering in Los Angeles, working from anywhere... it all added up to the same question I get over and over - why would I NOT do it? We talked about the idea of blogging about my experience, with the eventual goal of parlaying the blog into a book deal and eventually a movie... Sounds nice, right? And then we ran with the thought that I should move to a different city every year or 6 months and chronicle the experiences there... additional books, additional movies... the cash was just rolling in. We brainstormed on a list of cities: New York, Miami, San Francisco, Las Vegas (I'll pass on that one!)... It was a fun conversation, but at the end of it, this adventure was very specific to the city of Chicago for me and that other cities that I had visitied had never charmed me the way Chicago did.
Landed and took the train into town. The apartment was a crap shoot. Wasn't sure if my corporate housing service, which was based in Florida (!) But my fears were put at ease quickly. The building is only a couple years old. I would later find that there were a ton of amenities - a full gym, game rooms, regular activities scheduled, 24 hour door service... it was all I could ask for. And the building was filled younger folks - definitely not a family atmosphere. Plus, it's pet friendly, so I would see numerous dogs of varying sizes. Made me miss my dog at home, Happy. Apartment was small but completely functional. A quick check of my biggest requirement - the internet... very strong! We're in business!
Quickly unpacked and got ready to meet up with my one acquaintance in the city - my welcome wagon. Bill is a friend of my best friend. I had met up with him on my first trip and was looking forward to seeing a friendly face. I got ready and headed out to a bar called the Green Door. A short cab ride from my place, the Green Door is said to be the oldest bar in Chicago. It's building was in the great fire of 1871 and still pitches to one side. It's a local pub - exactly up my alley. Bill arrived with an old college buddy, Todd. We sat and got a drink. Apparently I was late to the party... seems Bill had started his drinking very early and was tapering off with beer (he's normally a hard liquor man). We had a few drinks and decided to move on. Bill had a friend in from Indiana - a doctor he had previously worked with. His friend was in town to meet a girl he was being set up with. Turns out that she had brought a friend on the date and they wanted to go dancing. Sights set on going to a club.
Clubs really aren't my scene. I prefer to sit and actually hear the conversations you're having. But, it was my first night and I wanted to see anything and everything. We headed to Underground - what was described to me as a very "Vegas" club. We arrived and there was a line. The bouncers were extremely unfriendly and curt. The two girls turned out to be asian... Asians are a bit of a novelty in the midwest - certainly compared to Los Angeles. So we girls pushed to the front of the line and tried to work our charm. Sadly, we had no luck and being far too old to wait more than a few minutes, we moved on to another lounge-y establishment, called Cuvee. Arriving at about 11:30, the place was empty - it was Saturday after all... We had a round of drinks and slowly the place started to fill up. The girls were from San Francisco and very typical of that area. Cute, professionals, a bit standoffish. They were pleasant enough and we all chatted about those things you chat with people about at a club.
I went out for a cigarette and as is always the case, this is where you meet everyone. You can hear conversations and there's just a comraderie among smokers that's universal. I met some guys from Macedonia that had been in Chicago for a few years. I gave them the story and they were encouraging... but the winters! This is the disclosure I get from everyone I encounter. The winters are brutal. It was a pleasant conversation and he introduced me to his 5 guy friends. We exchange introductions and head in from the cold. The club is hopping at this point and getting quite loud. We continue drink and chat. My lightweight status with drinking is slowing my evening down. I contemplate leaving the club, but the others convince me to stay. It's a scene and the people watching alone is worth the price of admission - a sea of white people. The girls are all in short dresses and sky high heels. There's some dancing on the banquettes, but generally, it's a pretty tame scene.
The evening whiles away and it's getting late. At this point, I'm starving, but no one is interested in eating. The girls are the first to leave... I think Bill's friend was very underwhelmed by his date. Personally, I think he can do much better. We leave the club and Bill is very drunk. We get in a cab and we go to Bill's place. He plops down on the couch and mumbles something about watching TV. I'm tired. My feet hurt from my 6 (yes, 6) inch heels. I watch TV for a while and then try to get Bill to get up so I can put him to bed. He refuses. I sit back down and doze off a bit. I wake up with no idea of the time. I try one more time to move Bill, but he isn't budging. So, I left him on the couch and left his place. It's 4:30 in the morning and the street is a ghost town. I wonder how long I should stand there before I walk somewhere or go back in. And somehow, magically, one appears and I'm wisked home. I crawl into bed as the sun is coming up. I love this town.
It wasn't a completely wild evening, but it was fun. And I know that it's just the beginning of a great adventure to come!
Flights between Los Angeles are surprisingly affordable if booked within a reasonable timeframe. I've paid more, on several occasions, to fly to Vegas. I had the foresight to book a morning flight that didn't require getting to the airport at the crack of dawn. How odd to fly and actually check a bag - something I never do... but with 2 weeks and unpredictable weather, a full office to support and just plain old stuff, I was overflowing.
The flight was uneventful. Emergency exit row makes life much more bearable. About halfway through the flight, I started chatting with the couple next to me and told them the purpose of the trip. Their excitement grew for me as I divulged more details. Wintering in Los Angeles, working from anywhere... it all added up to the same question I get over and over - why would I NOT do it? We talked about the idea of blogging about my experience, with the eventual goal of parlaying the blog into a book deal and eventually a movie... Sounds nice, right? And then we ran with the thought that I should move to a different city every year or 6 months and chronicle the experiences there... additional books, additional movies... the cash was just rolling in. We brainstormed on a list of cities: New York, Miami, San Francisco, Las Vegas (I'll pass on that one!)... It was a fun conversation, but at the end of it, this adventure was very specific to the city of Chicago for me and that other cities that I had visitied had never charmed me the way Chicago did.
Landed and took the train into town. The apartment was a crap shoot. Wasn't sure if my corporate housing service, which was based in Florida (!) But my fears were put at ease quickly. The building is only a couple years old. I would later find that there were a ton of amenities - a full gym, game rooms, regular activities scheduled, 24 hour door service... it was all I could ask for. And the building was filled younger folks - definitely not a family atmosphere. Plus, it's pet friendly, so I would see numerous dogs of varying sizes. Made me miss my dog at home, Happy. Apartment was small but completely functional. A quick check of my biggest requirement - the internet... very strong! We're in business!
Quickly unpacked and got ready to meet up with my one acquaintance in the city - my welcome wagon. Bill is a friend of my best friend. I had met up with him on my first trip and was looking forward to seeing a friendly face. I got ready and headed out to a bar called the Green Door. A short cab ride from my place, the Green Door is said to be the oldest bar in Chicago. It's building was in the great fire of 1871 and still pitches to one side. It's a local pub - exactly up my alley. Bill arrived with an old college buddy, Todd. We sat and got a drink. Apparently I was late to the party... seems Bill had started his drinking very early and was tapering off with beer (he's normally a hard liquor man). We had a few drinks and decided to move on. Bill had a friend in from Indiana - a doctor he had previously worked with. His friend was in town to meet a girl he was being set up with. Turns out that she had brought a friend on the date and they wanted to go dancing. Sights set on going to a club.
Clubs really aren't my scene. I prefer to sit and actually hear the conversations you're having. But, it was my first night and I wanted to see anything and everything. We headed to Underground - what was described to me as a very "Vegas" club. We arrived and there was a line. The bouncers were extremely unfriendly and curt. The two girls turned out to be asian... Asians are a bit of a novelty in the midwest - certainly compared to Los Angeles. So we girls pushed to the front of the line and tried to work our charm. Sadly, we had no luck and being far too old to wait more than a few minutes, we moved on to another lounge-y establishment, called Cuvee. Arriving at about 11:30, the place was empty - it was Saturday after all... We had a round of drinks and slowly the place started to fill up. The girls were from San Francisco and very typical of that area. Cute, professionals, a bit standoffish. They were pleasant enough and we all chatted about those things you chat with people about at a club.
I went out for a cigarette and as is always the case, this is where you meet everyone. You can hear conversations and there's just a comraderie among smokers that's universal. I met some guys from Macedonia that had been in Chicago for a few years. I gave them the story and they were encouraging... but the winters! This is the disclosure I get from everyone I encounter. The winters are brutal. It was a pleasant conversation and he introduced me to his 5 guy friends. We exchange introductions and head in from the cold. The club is hopping at this point and getting quite loud. We continue drink and chat. My lightweight status with drinking is slowing my evening down. I contemplate leaving the club, but the others convince me to stay. It's a scene and the people watching alone is worth the price of admission - a sea of white people. The girls are all in short dresses and sky high heels. There's some dancing on the banquettes, but generally, it's a pretty tame scene.
The evening whiles away and it's getting late. At this point, I'm starving, but no one is interested in eating. The girls are the first to leave... I think Bill's friend was very underwhelmed by his date. Personally, I think he can do much better. We leave the club and Bill is very drunk. We get in a cab and we go to Bill's place. He plops down on the couch and mumbles something about watching TV. I'm tired. My feet hurt from my 6 (yes, 6) inch heels. I watch TV for a while and then try to get Bill to get up so I can put him to bed. He refuses. I sit back down and doze off a bit. I wake up with no idea of the time. I try one more time to move Bill, but he isn't budging. So, I left him on the couch and left his place. It's 4:30 in the morning and the street is a ghost town. I wonder how long I should stand there before I walk somewhere or go back in. And somehow, magically, one appears and I'm wisked home. I crawl into bed as the sun is coming up. I love this town.
It wasn't a completely wild evening, but it was fun. And I know that it's just the beginning of a great adventure to come!
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
The setup...
There are lots of options on where to stay in Chicago. A hotel was out of the question. I wanted to feel like I live in Chicago, so having a kitchen and a real living space was non-negotiable. In addition, I would be working remotely, so a strong internet connection and workspace were also required.
There are multiple neighborhoods, each with its own charms, pros and cons. Originally, I looked at Lincoln Park. The one acquaintance I had in the city (friend of a friend) lived there and it was a nice, upscale area. There was appeal to living in an actual home - some cute little brownstone of some sort. It would give me a great feel for what it would be to actually live there. Then there was downtown... being in the heart of all the activity, with close access to museums and an abundance of theaters, restaurants etc. River North and Gold Coast have great residential areas with great restaurants and nightlife. Tons of other areas are a bit farther out, but completely accessible with Chicago's great mass transit.
I went to craiglist and searched vacation homes. Listings led me to additional sites that listed longer term rentals. You can rent anything from a room in a home to a full 10 bedroom house. Corporate housing services are also a good bet. After three solid days of searching and sending out inquiries, I stumbled across an amazing deal through http://www.leadingapartments.com/. They offered a one bedroom in the beautiful Aqua building, located between Millennium Park and the River. The rate was hard to beat ($130/day with no additional taxes/fees) and the location was outstanding. Booked!
Turned out to be better than I thought. The building is stunning and the views from my 36th floor unit were amazing. Lake Michigan on one side and Millennium Park (with Cloud Gate and Art Institute beyond) on the other:
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
How is this possible?
I am lucky enough to be working at a job that allows me, at least for now, to work remotely from anywhere with a strong internet connection.
On another note, there is not one person that hasn't told me that I should move to Chicago. However, without fail, there's always a comment on the winters here and how they will be dreary. Fortunately, or not - depending on how you look at it, I will retain my house in Los Angeles and have the luxury of wintering there.
Financially, I support my family (mother and sister). I recently broke up from an 11 year relationship and at the time was unemployed. I had a house I was paying for so I figured I might as well moved in. It's hard - I'm not going to lie. It's embarassing to have to tell people that you live with your family - or more that they live with me. I like to have my own space. I haven't cooked in ages. And to top it all off, the support is sort of an asian obligation thing. There's not a lot of gratitude that comes with it, so it makes me a tad bitter. I've been saving money to do a three-wall renovation on my house... so I can use that to buy another place in Chicago if it works out.
Wintering in California will allow me to avoid the worst times in Chicago... allow me to see my friends - who are in the LA area and Las Vegas. Most importantly, it will allow me to snowboard... Chicago is as flat as a Korean girl's ass!
On another note, there is not one person that hasn't told me that I should move to Chicago. However, without fail, there's always a comment on the winters here and how they will be dreary. Fortunately, or not - depending on how you look at it, I will retain my house in Los Angeles and have the luxury of wintering there.
Financially, I support my family (mother and sister). I recently broke up from an 11 year relationship and at the time was unemployed. I had a house I was paying for so I figured I might as well moved in. It's hard - I'm not going to lie. It's embarassing to have to tell people that you live with your family - or more that they live with me. I like to have my own space. I haven't cooked in ages. And to top it all off, the support is sort of an asian obligation thing. There's not a lot of gratitude that comes with it, so it makes me a tad bitter. I've been saving money to do a three-wall renovation on my house... so I can use that to buy another place in Chicago if it works out.
Wintering in California will allow me to avoid the worst times in Chicago... allow me to see my friends - who are in the LA area and Las Vegas. Most importantly, it will allow me to snowboard... Chicago is as flat as a Korean girl's ass!
How it all started...
I, like so many, love to travel. Maybe it's because I've lived in one place for the majority of life or maybe it's the natural wanderlust that is innate in all of us. But I love to go to a new place and discover how things are different. It opens your mind and fills you with so many thoughts and emotions. As I have grown personally, I've come to value the discovery of how we're all the same... It makes me feel less isolated and makes me feel like I might actually belong to the human race.
And so, with my limited means throughout the years, I have begun to explore. My international travel is limited, but I'm working on that. In the meantime, I've visited a number of US cities. I have an intense interest in food and my palate has led me to some amazing experiences in some of the top restaurants to hole-in-the-wall gems. I have loved every moment and truly believe that even the occasional miss is ultimately always a win.
Of the major cities in the US, Chicago was the last that I had yet to visit. Unlike so many cities, work had not taken me there. Hearing of an incredible food scene, coupled with a strong arts town with great people, I knew I would enjoy it. I booked a trip with the promise of a girlfriend's company, but she was unable to make it due to work conflicts. Newly single and with restless feet, I decided to go alone. I will share details of the first trip in the future, but needless to say, I fell head over heels in love with Chicago. So much so, that the week I was back in LA, I booked another trip before the month's end. This time, it would be two weeks... and the intent was to determine if I would move to Chicago.
I'm sure people do things like this everyday. People like me, however, who are normally in complete control of everything, adverse to risk and not-at-all prone to capricious whims, don't do this... But, I went. Just like that.
And so, with my limited means throughout the years, I have begun to explore. My international travel is limited, but I'm working on that. In the meantime, I've visited a number of US cities. I have an intense interest in food and my palate has led me to some amazing experiences in some of the top restaurants to hole-in-the-wall gems. I have loved every moment and truly believe that even the occasional miss is ultimately always a win.
Of the major cities in the US, Chicago was the last that I had yet to visit. Unlike so many cities, work had not taken me there. Hearing of an incredible food scene, coupled with a strong arts town with great people, I knew I would enjoy it. I booked a trip with the promise of a girlfriend's company, but she was unable to make it due to work conflicts. Newly single and with restless feet, I decided to go alone. I will share details of the first trip in the future, but needless to say, I fell head over heels in love with Chicago. So much so, that the week I was back in LA, I booked another trip before the month's end. This time, it would be two weeks... and the intent was to determine if I would move to Chicago.
I'm sure people do things like this everyday. People like me, however, who are normally in complete control of everything, adverse to risk and not-at-all prone to capricious whims, don't do this... But, I went. Just like that.
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