When you Know you are a Chicagoan

You know when you are a true Chicagoan when you start to notice some of the following:

1. Your car has been smashed up in some way: broken into, crashed up, crashed into while parked, or window smashed AND you still drive it.
2. When its above 15 degrees you don't consider that unbearable weather.
3. If you wake up to a blizzard, you do not pause with contemplation of a snow day from work.
4. Its normal to talk to strangers or help them dig their car out of a parking spot.
5. You have a favorite Chicago neighborhood that you consider 'superior' to the others.
6. A typical weekend has some form of sports entertainment...preferably Cub season.
7. People are generally in a pretty happy mood without obvious reason, just because.
8. You put a chair in place of the parking spot you dug out that morning with your shovel.
9. Every time summer arrives, you treat summer like winning the lottery...surprising and thrilling.
10. Your friend from the 2nd grade is the buddy who you still hit the bar with on Friday nights.
11. You see family more than three times a year.
12. Regardless of the where you travel, you can't help but defend why the seasons build 'character' and thus is reason enough to return to Chicago...:)

President Obama

Watching Obama become president made me quite sentimental for my old city of Washington, D.C. I also felt elated to see this moment finally arrive. I teach at an urban school where 99% of the population is African American. So I felt like I connected with this moment in a unique way. My scholars all came to school beaming on the day of the inauguration with gigantic pins of the Obama family on the front of their uniform shirts. We went on a field trip the entire day. Although we arrived back to school exhausted, the fourth grade spilled into the cafeteria where our principal set up the television for us to watch the inauguration taped. My kids eyes were sagging with fatigue but when he walked out with Michelle they sat up as big smiles tumbled onto their faces. As Obama gave his speech they listened and cheered. Sometimes they clapped in the middle of his sentence, at times for no apparent reason but simply because these kids-were excited.

What an amazing thing to see but the hope and excitement on the faces of 9 year olds. Although they may not fully understand terms like 'recession,' 'collapsed economy' 'health care' but they get it. These kids know something big has happened, will happen.

Today I told them about how much my mom loved JFK. They sat real close to me, blinking their eyes hard, curious... eager. And then at the end of my story, I said the way my mom felt about him is how many of you feel for your new president. So make sure you never forget this moment in your life, because one day you will be telling your story. They nodded, because although these kids are 9 they understand what I meant, maybe far better than many of us.

Sucky People and Humanity

There is no point writing another letter. I already wrote one to the jerk who stole my mum and the jerk who broke my car window. It seems silly now to even attempt to address this blog to the jerk who smashed into my car yesterday. This is life in the city. Take it in, breath it out. Repeat.

So yesterday I was driving home from a busy work week. I had just had a little encounter with one of my student's mothers who decided, instead of sorting out miscommunication between me and her, instead its best to just scream at me. I was in the lobby surrounded by many others and I just stood there in shock of her willingness to display inappropriate behavior. Sigh. Silly people.

But nothing was bringing me down, I thought after the encounter. I mean for God's sakes it was Friday and I had just got paid and lastly I was on my way to happy hour. What else do I need?

So my teacher friend and I were on our way to drop off my car and then go get a cerveza. I was cruising down the road in my 98' Prizm in the -18 weather but hell- I could have rolled down the windows, because the three day weekend had arrived. We were on Sacramento and as I drove through a green light suddenly a white Marques comes barreling towards me. Most normal people with basic intelligence KNOW that when you make a left turn, FIRST you drive to the center of the intersection look for a clearing in oncoming traffic and then turn.

But there it was. This massive old Marques plummeting towards me in a wide circled turn as if he took about six-eight shots and then decided driving would be a fun happy hour activity. I stepped on the gas and tried to speed up. Crunching metal blasted through my car. I screeched my car to a stop as cars blasted their horns and whipped past me. My back bumper was dangling off my car like a lonely dog left to go astray. Looking up the guy in the car glances back at me and then drives off. Just like that. The cold air is setting into my cheeks and my fingers are wrinkling by the frigid breeze. Suddenly summer is gone and here I am on Sacramento and Augusta, cars zipping around the disaster I've become.

Then something miraculous happened. Humanity appeared. A car pulled over and gave me a description of the guy. He said, "He was somewhere in his 20s, actually like 29, and dark hair, real dark like jet black ..." and on he went with a vivid description. I thanked him by his careful observation of life's daily happenings and off he went.

Then suddenly a cab began reversing down the busy road towards me. My friend and I thought, "Oh God PLEASE! We need to wait for the cops, why is this cab driver pestering us to take his cab?!"

The cab driver got out and gestured for me to roll down my window. "Oh ma'am I sped down the street when I saw what happened to you! I followed that man who hit you! Here is his license and the make/model of his car. Oh ma'am I wrote it down for you." I was in shock at his humanity and good will. He requested to remain anonymous but gave me the note card with the information jotted down like chicken scribbles. "My gift to you." And off he went into the winter night.

We were relieved at the information and began drumming the dashboard as we waited for a cop to show up to make a police report. And we waited. And Waited.
"If I were bleeding to death I would be pretty much dead by now," I said to my friend. I got out of my car again to inspect the damage. I really didn't want to wait for a slow ass tow truck to show up. I began pulling at the dangling bumper hoping I could get it to come off completely.

Suddenly a man with a little girl showed up. "Can I help you?!"
I looked at him and his little girl bundled up and said, "Well, yes could you pull my bumper off?!" He tugged at his brown dirt worned gloves and yanked until my bumper popped off. Hoisting it, he crammed it in my back seat. I thanked him and off he went.

The sun was setting now and we were still waiting at the entrance of Humboldt Park. I remember reading about various crimes that take place in this park. "In about 25 minutes we will end up getting mugged or shot if they don't hurry up," I told my friend who sat patiently by my side.

We blasted "If I were a boy," and stared at the jet blue sky turning to the color of ink.

The police man finally did show up. He was polite and kept asking us if were were okay. He said they had the guys address and they would take him to court for numerous offense's. Who knows. I thought about my 500 deductable that is coming out of my pocket and how much it sucked. I thought about it about two blocks down Sacramento as we finally drove home. Then for some reason I just didn't care. Because although people out there do things to us that hurt or inconvenience us horribly, and God doesn't it make you want to hate city living or just sum up that everyone out there sucks. Everyone but a few. Although the idea went through my head to feel this way, instead I felt kind of relieved. Relieved that I was okay and peaceful at the fact there are good souls. Four of them showed up today in the midst of my chaotic moment. There are about three or four good souls to balance out the ones who do these things to us and our '98 Prizms. Because those 'sucky' people have their reasons too and I will never know his or why he looked back at me, standing in the middle of the intersection staring at my smashed up car, and then decided to drive away. But it doesn't really matter, because yes Chicago is city life at its finest and worse. Its -15 degrees but God it is full of humanity.

As we turned down Armitage my friend and I looked at each other, "Happy hour???"
We laughed and nodded and drove my crackling car home.

Thank you jerks for smashing my car window

I was driving home from the gym tonight. I felt pretty good about being productive with my day. As I pulled out of the parking garage I noticed the orange light was lit up indicating that my door was 'ajar.' I got out and shut my trunk tightly and shut my driving door again. But there it was, the light glowing at me. I had no idea why it was still on.

I got home and as I was getting out into the frigid winter night, there it was-staring at me. My little side window was smashed in. Then suddenly my eyes widened as I realized the other car doors were unlocked. Frantically I opened my glove compartment only to see my beloved GPS still resting inside. My heart fluttered in relief, because God knows I am in love my GPS almost as much as my boyfriend.

I had an empty box sitting in my back seat. Maybe the asshole thought something magical, that would solve all his problems, would be inside. Dude, its empty. But no, he broke in and reached his long arm to the front door and then opened up the other doors. However, nothing from my trunk was gone. Maybe he wasn't trying to steal anything. Maybe he was ready to take my blue piece of crap car for a joyride. I mean it has 140,000 miles on the thing. Seriously?! Who honestly thinks its worth taking? But I will never know, because there it was still waiting for me after my workout with glass shattered all over my back seat.

The funny part is I teach in the fifth most dangerous neighborhood in Chicago. Yet my window is smashed in a secure parking garage in Lincoln Park. Everyone reminds me a million times a week to be careful coming and going from work. Yet when I go to the upscale neighborhood a few miles away it is then that my car is screwed with.

Oh to the Jerks that smashed my window. Lucikly you were nice enough to only smash the side window. Thank you for that. I appreciate you not smashing the main windows. That would cost a lot more. That was sweet of you. But hey, future reference-an empty box in a back seat of a car may not be the winning pot of gold you are looking for.

Post New Years=The GYM explosion

It's a new year and hence many of us are making little resolutions. Some are big and many small. But as we watch the ball drop, we can't help but repeat our lil' resolution in our heads. We say it a hundred times as if that in some way will ensure that we will, this year...actually, keep our new years promise.

There are oh so many things to resolve to do in a new year. Such as: I will become a patient person who jumps out of bed every morning for work with a gigantic smile plastered across my face. Or: I will volunteer every weekend for the next 52 weeks. Even in blizzards. Or I will stop saying F*ck no more than 10 times a day.

But one of my favorite little resolutions that is oh so unoriginal but yet quite endearing is the promise of THIS year I will go to the gym and loose those love handles! I will loose those pounds!

I personally have never made this my own new years resolution. Even after quite a few drinks on new years eve, I try to keep my resolutions more manageable such as . I will make my bed every day. OR I will listen to the news and actually set my alarm 20 minutes early to ensure I have time to scrape the mountain of snow off my car to avoid being late for work. But after seeing the swarm of new workout rookies maybe I should make my goals loftier, or should I?

The past couple days at Bally's Total Fitness it has honestly been an ant farm. There are people crawling everywhere! The personal trainers are racing around like unfed mice sweat flooding from their heads as they slap a smile across their faces and give personal training session after session after session...

I've become used to the medium flow of the gym or the quiet hum of a Saturday workout as I pedal away on the bike. But now its swarming from every side. People are frolicking about in their new work out clothes hopping on tread mills, bikes, elliptical machines with issues of US Weekly glued in their hands.

It's almost inspiring. I almost felt guilty because a line was forming waiting for machines as I huffed and puffed away on my machine. I look around and its cute the way everyone is filled with motivation and hope for 2009. Its like almost a good ol' middle finger to the economy in ways. Its almost like we are uniting with a message of hope: I may not have a job but god help me I will fit into my skinny jeans!

But as I'm later waiting for a treadmill, my stomach growling for its dinner... I can't help but think, "Do these new bees really believe in themselves enough?" Will you all be here two months from now?

Probably not. But oh how good it feels to have enough faith in ourselves to make the goal in the first place.