Dear Chicago: A Love Letter

It's been raining a lot here lately. Not that I mind. I love the way my neighborhood looks when the street, made wet and shiny by the most recent downpour, reflects the yellow glow of the streetlamps that line it. It looks warm - not in the sense of temperature. It feels warm. I cozy up on my couch and gaze out the window, surprising myself with just how long I can be hypnotized by the sight. Stunning. I'm not a photographer though. I'm a writer so this is how I bring these very special, particular images back to life.

I have lived here for five years now. What started as the home of my college of choice, however, has since transformed to my home as well. It has wrapped me in its wind and cold, its old-fashioned city romance, its stories and secrets. The misty grey-green song of my hometown back in Oregon still bursts from my heart but ever since the day I watched the Cellular Field fireworks from my freshman dorm, Eugene has had to make a little room. 

My first place in Chicago was on the tenth floor of Gunsaulus Hall. Gunsaulus is a big old box of a building on the far end of Illinois Tech's campus. Shimer College, my sweet sweet Alma mater, has been located on the grounds for many years now, and was housing their students in Gunsaulus my freshman year. I had a two-bedroom apartment style dorm that I was supposed to share with three other girls. Two of us per room, giggling on bunk beds and trying to share a single space like grown ups. It was tough, but we survived. One of our first nights we cooked chicken and rice and sat around the table marveling at our own independence. Our view of the lake was incredible and the late-summer sun illuminated our meal. Chicago changed me that year. The shy, apologetic girl from South Eugene High School became a force to be reckoned with. I struggled with boys and friends and homework because that's just what transitioning into college is like, but the good never stopped outweighing the bad. I will never forget the way tears poured from my eyes my first time at the Art Institute when I stood face to face with The Eruption of Vesuvius. I will never forget the night we ran onto the beach after hours and dared each other to jump into the the icy waters of Lake Michigan. I will never forget sneaking on the the roof of Gunsaulus and staring at the big, bold, sparkling skyline and thinking "This is it. This is where I belong."

Sophomore year brought my first apartment and my very own room once more. It was a year of heartbreak and struggle but the seasons were my strength. Chicago scorches in the summer and loves us in the fall and freezes us in the winter and grows tulips in the spring. These changes each year are so romantic, so strong, that the restlessness in my heart was gently soothed by the peculiar natural life of the city. While I searched for a solid relationship, platonic or otherwise, the sidewalk and skyscrapers embraced me and inspired me. When someone broke my heart, I took the el home and found something new and beautiful to see in every passing building. When my roommates grew angry after a careless Wednesday night of loud, boisterous guests, the nighttime sidewalks drew out my thoughts and helped me realize how little a fight matters in the grand scheme of things. I found a confidant and teacher and muse in Chicago that year.

Two (and then some) years later, Chicago still hasn't let me down. I love the restaurants with their honest, irreverent waiters and hospitable chefs who walk to your table to pour you some of their homemade limoncello. I love that even on a Monday at 9 a.m, the doorman at my office has the energy to grin and wave and wish me a good morning. I love that sudden, brief bond that is struck between everyone waiting for the el when the loudspeaker announces that the brown line is delayed indefinitely. We all exchange glances and sigh heavily, punctuating the frustration with shy, conspiratorial smiles.I love climbing into a cab at the end of the night with my Sean and falling asleep on his shoulder as the little yellow car zooms along lake shore drive.I love sipping on coffees and window shopping on Michigan Avenue with Maura in bright wool coats, feeling grown-up and established, glamorous and worldly. Sometimes the snow kills me, and sometimes I see anger and hurt on the trains and in the street, but Chicago still manages to love its people, to treat them to surprises and memories and adventure.

One night over the summer, a bunch of us were sitting on a friend's roof. He lives all the way in Humboldt Park, but we could still see the skyline from where we were. Icy beers in hand, we told stories and reminisced and laughed and teased. I had to take a step back and look at the scene. This was all so beautiful. The people I was with. The place I sat. And all of them things Chicago gave me, down to my Goose Island 312. Oregon is where my family is. It's where my childhood is and where I first viewed the world. I love it and it is one of the single most important parts of me. I share it with my family and my oldest friends. It is my history and my foundation. But Chicago is all mine and all present, shaped according only to my impressions and experiences. 

Sweaters

It's sweater season. These ones are my favorites. Top with a pair of boots and a dark caramel corduroy pencil skirt.

ASOS River Island Pointelle Sweater. Okay it's like $60, but have you ever seen such an effortlessly polished cozy sweater in your life? I haven't. Gotta love aspiration window shopping.

ASOS Boyfriend Sweater in Bright Yarn. Also pricier. Also crazy adorable. Doesn't it crack you up that ASOS styles their sweaters with shorts? I think actually think it looks super chic. It's not exactly practical for Summer or Fall but somehow manages to look breezy and pulled-together.

Modcloth Sea Worthy of You Top. This would be at home with Long Island Medium marathons, pajama pants and Celeastial Seasonings or a lunch date with mushroom risotto and a glass of zinfandel.

Every time I step outside this time of year I can't help but grin. Something about the way the light looks and the smell of dead leaves. 

Beauty inspiration: Sandra Bullock in "Demolition Man"

I am not even kidding. I was watching this movie with the boyfriend and the little sister a couple weeks ago, and in addition to be thrilled with the cast ("OMIGOODNESS!!!! IS THAT THE GUY FROM MS. CONGENIALITY?") and the ridiculous action movie storyline, I totally dug Sandra Bullock's look. She plays the naive and excitable Lenina Huxley, a police officer in a futuristic society where the polite, docile population doesn't require much policing. Her tailored uniform is worth a mention with its subtly colorful mandarin collar, but the fresh and simple makeup is the real attention-grabber. Let's break it down.

Face: We are in the era of the bb cream, of which Bullock's poreless complextion in this film was prophetic. To get her flawless color and tone, apply your favorite bb cream to a freshly clean and exfoliated face.  I am smearing the one by Boscia on my skin daily, but I've seen hundreds of other wonderful options out there. I actually have a Birchbox sample of Dr. Bart's that I am aching to use (will get back to you with the results). Dust on a gentle pink blush next, but nothing too girly. This would be an excellent opportunity to break out the Nars. Finish with a bronzing powder and you suddenly look ready to kick some 20th century criminal butt.

Eyebrows: Keep them shaped and groomed and arched. I think the brows are actually the key to her look, providing a decidedly high-maintenance effect as a contrast to her natural eye and lip color choices. I am all about getting one's brows professionally done, as the diy results are often too thin and harsh. If you're an expert, by all means break out those tweezers, but the rest of us should just book an appointment at the salon. Once your brows are properly plucked, use Makeup Forever's Aqua Brow to shape and fill them.

Eyes: Put on a primer. I used to be a devotee to Urban Decay's Primer Potion, but have since fallen for the cheaper and more industrial strength stuff by Sephora. Line your eyes with something brown and subtle, then apply a matte nude shadow in the most flattering hue you can find. After a couple of intense moments with your eyelash curler, coat your lashes with your favorite mascara (I am all about Clinique's Naturally Glossy and a friend recently recommended this one from Ulta). Not too many coats, and make sure each lash is separated.

Lips: A light dusty rose should do the trick here. I splurged last year and bought Chanel Rouge Coco in Boy and it has become my favorite your-lips-but-better shade. To complete your Lenina look, be on the lookout for shades that are the color your lips would be if cataloged by Pantone. Cover that with a quietly sheer and shimmery lip balm, then find yourself a gruff muscley type to fight bad guys with.

That's all for now. We'll talk again soon.

Sunday night.

I have that lovely hazy feeling that you can only ever get from seriously lazy Sundays. After a day of sprawling about in bed drinking mimosas and waxing too much poetic about Seth McFarlane I am finally coming to.  I have to iron and steam my clothes for work tomorrow (I know I want to wear my black pencil skirt but I haven't decided which blouse to pair it with), wash some dishes, and look up rates for cable because I've lately had the intense desire to watch late night talk shows. Also on my to-do list? Pretty pictures. I'm working on some lovely original content for you but in the meantime, enjoy some fabulous photography from the most beautiful reaches of the internet.

Good night, my someones.

I did my nails today.

It was bright and sunny out this afternoon, so Maura and I dragged all of our manicure supplies outside and did our nails on our front deck. I used a sparkly mermaid green with a white nail on each hand, and Maura painted one of her hands bright orange and the other bright yellow. We are short a camera right now, so please use this high quality Photo Booth picture as a reference. Also, my hand isn't very photogenic, so I'm really putting myself out there for ya'all :p



I love how nail polish can add personality and class to any ensemble. And it's amazing how many different ways are out there to set your lacquered nails apart. I've been finding some lovely inspiration on We Heart It lately, and I think it deserves your attention.










Pick strong opaque colors and don't be afraid to mix and match. Also, a little bit of sparkle can go a long way. And if you're like me, the glossier the polish, the better. I hope you're enjoying the gorgeous weather today. A ton of love to the lot of you.

Because good friends make for a good life.

The four of us are sitting in the Cheesecake Factory (yes, yes, I know), dressed to the nines, and just destroying a bowl of spinach cheese dip. I'm a little preoccupied and my stress is keeping me from enjoying the experience to its fullest potential. Lily and Helene were spending the week in Chicago with Maura and I and it had so far been an amazing time full of good shopping, good food, and meandering conversations while sitting on my kitchen floor at two in the morning. So why was I so distressed? There were problems on my mind. They were relationship and school issues and not things I wanted to bore my friends with. Maura looked at me from across the table.

"Hill? You okay?"

I nodded and took a sip of my Lemon Drop, then focused intently on the new appetizer that had just arrived at the table, guacamole. The other three chatted animatedly about the rest of the day's plans and I shot them all bitchy little glances, taking my frustration out on them, all passive-aggressive like.

"You guys are being soo loud," I snapped. They all looked at me, the party pooper.

"We're just having a good time."

"Yeah. What's eating you?"

"Seriously. What's wrong?"

I took a deep breath. "Just stuff, you know. I don't want to ruin this. You guys are having a nice time. You don't want to hear about my issues." I was being so darn pathetic. But those girls never judge. Then Helene said something that would make the rest of my day, and indeed, the rest of my life, that much brighter.

"Of course we want to hear about what's going on. That's what friends are for."



It sounds so obvious, and so cheesy, but she was right. She was absolutely the most right I've ever heard anyone be. A real friend, a true friend, is there for the bad in addition to the good. When I was in middle school and high school, my friends were cruel. They weren't friends. When I opened my mouth, the things I said were ignored, rushed over like it wasn't important. That sort of treatment hurt me and made me the kind of person who stores it all up. It effects me on the outside still today, makes me quiet and grumpy when I have something making me sad or stressed on the inside. But with a good friend, you should never have to be like that. A good friend cares about you and will listen to you, and do everything within their power to help you through the pain.

I'm so lucky now, and you should be, too. We should be surrounded with people who not only challenge us to be the best person we can be, but help us when we flounder. In those moments when we're at our darkest or most absurd, good friends never judge. They listen to you, they encourage you, and advise you while still making sure you're thinking for yourself. They're loyal and keep your secrets and ignore rumors. If you look around and find yourself surrounded by people who aren't doing these things, it's time to make some big cuts to your social circle.

Look at yourself a little bit, too. I find that I sometimes get lazy when my friends come to me with problems. I break out some stock comfort and don't give them what they need. But that's awful and after Helene's comment that day, I've been doing my best to really listen and show that I care. Because I do. A friend, by definition, is someone you care about. So, by some rather fluid logic, a friendship can hardly function unless that caring is made clear and put at the forefront of your relationship. Is this how you're treating your friends? No? Well then it's time to start.



"Shall we order dessert?" We're still all sitting at our table in the restaurant. The appetizers have been cleaned up and my drink has long since been drained. The waiter walks by and we order a slice of cheesecake. To share. We had been able to talk through my issues and more than anything else, I was comforted by the presence of my caring and genuine friends.

I sound like a broken record, but we all deserve this. I was without it for far too long and often find myself looking back on everything that happened during that time with bitterness and anger. Bad friends are toxic; they poison your past and make you doubt your future. Be strong (you absolutely have it in you) and get rid of those jerks.

Take a deep breath.

You're having a rough day. You feel like you're in a rut. You're bored. You're blaming yourself for something. You're homesick. You're heartbroken. You miss the way things used to be. You're stressed. Everything is piling up and you are losing sleep. You're lonely. You feel like you have no one to talk to. Something has got you hurting and you are feeling like you are in a hopeless situation. Here's the thing, sugar - You aren't. It's not hopeless. It will pass. These feelings will pass. No matter what it is that's left you like this, I can promise you it isn't permanent. You are far too intelligent, kind, and beautiful for things to not go your way. I'm sure of it.

I'm going to share some links with you. They range from silly to sensible and they're some of my favorites to look at when I'm feeling down in the dumps. Alright hun - it's time to stop frowning and start clicking.

Why I Hate Snark by Sarah Wilson. I love this article so much. And Sarah Wilson is amazing - just read a few entries on her blog and you'll understand/be incredibly inspired.

This. And this. Also, this.

I Don't Care How Smart You Are. This is one of my favorite articles ever. Truly. It's a read that will bring you back down to earth but also make you want to stand and cheer in agreement.

Valentine's Day has come and gone, but this article is still pretty rad. Another favorite article from the same blog, Alone At A Party, has long been a favorite of mine. Imboycrazy can be pretty racy, which you'll realize from the get-go, but that hasn't stopped me from reading it loyally for the last year or so. Alexi is the first word on tough love.

On my old blog, I once wrote about how much I adore Apocalypstick. Aimee herself commented on that entry saying that she liked my blog, too, and I about passed out from excitement. Since we're working on picking ourselves out of our ruts, let me direct you to this article.

Slaughterhouse 90210 is pretty fabulous. Case in point: this, this, this, this, this, this, aaaand this.

Read this one from start to finish. Soon you'll be giggling so much you'll forget you were ever sad.

Last but not least, Hot Guys Reading Books. You're welcome.

Now go make yourself a cup of tea and listen to some Best Coast. It's hard right now, I know, but there is an end in sight to this darkness. A year from now, you will look back on this point and be proud of yourself for how much stronger it made you. You are loved and you can handle this.

image via We Heart It