I arrive a little after 7pm, with three friends, one of whom had redeemed a free zipcar for the night. Our heads are full of “golden oldies,” because that was the only radio station we could settle on.
Maxwell Colette is easy to spot from down the block and across the heavily-trafficked street; tall bright windows glow a soft yellow. The gallery is full, but not uncomfortably so, yet.
The space is warm not just in temperature and light, but also in sound.
Last week I participated in the 3six5 Chicago project.
You can read my post, on ChicagoNow, here. They are still in need of Chicago authors for later this year, so any writers out there, send them an e-mail!
I was so taken by the whole idea – of writing a personal, casual post in under 365 words, that I decided to do one for days when I do something interesting. Which isn’t that often.
The following is the text I wanted to include in the post, but couldn’t, because it came out to more than 365 words.
I am home now, from the Printer’s ball. “Much fun was had” is an adequate descriptor. I collected free bits of paper like a mad fiend. At the time I imagined throwing them in the air and dancing in slow motion –no, not really, I collected them to make collage art: the lazy art, the art that uses my hands – a preference because Photoshop is also on the magic electronic box.
Later in the evening the results of my foraging– the pamphlets, journals, or magazines that I took two (or three) of because of the graphics or paper–makes my back ache. My bounty is held in one place by a newly purchased linen bag hanging off my shoulder. It dug into the skin.
Sobering up, I realize the follies of drinking on an empty stomach. I also realize why the young man in a baseball cap got as upset as he did — it is not my fault the baseball cap did not fit the daper niceness of the rest of his ensemble. No need for bitchiness…
I felt old among the smelly youth, but young against the mothers with their daughters.
The Printer’s Ball was even like a fairy tale — I lost a large fake jewel from the top of my sandal.
I purchased a piece of art, had honest interactions with good people, and enjoyed cheesecake at Eleven City Diner.
The original fake Rahm’s twitter account has been getting more press lately, following the real Rahm Emanuel’s offer of $2,500 to the author if he/she reveals him/herself. See NBC’s article about it here, and here is USA Today’s.
Perhaps inspired by the popularity of this fake twitter, a new fake Rahm Emanuel twitter was created about 5 days ago, @MayorRahmE. This newer fake twitter has a little bit more than 300 followers, and is significantly lacking the wit (or any sense of humor, really) and intelligence of the original. The very first tweet on this new fake twitter is below:
This new fake twitter writes in CAPS AT IRREGULAR INTERVALS and seems to make fun of Rahm (and his ballet skills) directly, rather than indirectly like the ingenious original fake twitter.
Surprisingly, one of the original followers of this new, bad fake Rahm twitter is Karl Rove, or who ever is in charge of his twitter. Karl Rove does not follow the better, original fake Rahm twitter.
….and it wasn’t because I submitted any articles!
First, I was quoted in the Tribune’s RedEye on an article about female gamers….
Eordogh, a freelance video game writer, said she used to play PC games under the screen name “Laser Kitty,” but changed it to “Laser Gandalf” because of the perverted or sexualized comments she’d receive from male players who concluded she was female.
“When I play online, I get a lot of comments like ‘Show me your boobs,’ ” Eordogh said. “If a girl wants to be sexy, that’s fine, but I wish I wasn’t held to the same standards. I just want to play games, not be stereotyped.”
- “Play girls: the life of a female gamer in Chicago“, by Ryan Smith
I say something else too, but I want you to click the link. I made sure to get 2 hard copies of the RedEye yesterday.
And it was brought to my attention this morning, that there is a photo of me on the Huffington Post under an article titled Ladies Love Rahm. The photograph was taken on Saturday when I got to ask Rahm Emanuel a softball question. An internet/twitter colleague found the photo in the AP database. To see a larger version of the picture, click here.
And, a photo of me is on Gawker as well! (With Rahm Emanuel of course)
… Check out my post about my experience on my hyperlocal neighborhood blog here.
The whole experience made me question what kind of journalist I want to become. I started the Albany Park Post blog under citizen journalist sentiments, and if I were to get a degree in Journalism, it would only be if I decided to become a serious, hard-hitting journalist – something I never thought I would want to be. I know whatever I am doing now, let’s call it a freelance writer thing, I am not doing it properly. I am still paralyzed by various personal fears – for instance, I’ve been sitting on a large story about a local art institution for months, and I haven’t finished it because I don’t want to be sued (the female in my story is a little odd, and the suing type).
“If you’re not pissing someone off, you’re not doing it right”… I get that. But growing up, I wanted to be a lot of things… and a hard-hitting news journalist was never one of them.
Tracy Swartz wrote a whole article in the RedEye I can use as ammunition against the New York and San Francisco tech-snobs:
These young up-and-comers said they prefer Chicago to start-up hotbeds such as San Francisco and New York City because office space and payroll are cheaper, talent is easier to find and keep, and top business schools at universities including Northwestern and the University of Chicago are nearby.
The increased recognition has brought benefits. One of the problems Chicago entrepreneurs used to face was little access to funding. West Coast investors now are recognizing that Chicago firms are worth the investment, Rudnick said, and they’re not requiring these companies to move to Silicon Valley.
I am also partial to this article because Tracy highlighted non- Groupon start-ups in a positive light. Hot.
Groupon’s “Super Bowl Ad” was obviously a miss. This writer explains it why, perfectly. I, as a Chicago resident and occasional (recent) purchaser of Groupons, personally feel let down by Groupon’s failed commercial simply because Groupon is one of the few tech start-ups in this city. Chicago is not known for tech start-ups, but Groupon is our saving grace against tech snobby East and West Coasters. Groupon is big and scary, and recently said no to $6 billion from Google. Is there another tech start-up in Chicago that defends this city’s honor? No.
“Oh, you’re a couple years behind…. no more than a decade” with a pat on the head. ”Chicago is sooo cute, with their little knock-off start-ups”… That’s what East and West Coast techies say about Chicago. Yeah. I don’t appreciate the patronizing tone either.
Now consider the recent corporate income tax increase (Jimmy Johns wants to leave because of them!), and the chance of Chicago creating additional start-ups gets smaller and smaller. Chicago can and should be so more than second fiddle to the East and West Coast.
So Groupon, when you’re on the national stage, representing this fair city, can you make sure your commercials aren’t poorly executed and/or multi-layered with personal jokes? I know you have some smart and humorous people in your ranks – as you seem to snatch up quite a few local comedians. You have no excuse, unless your excuse is… your staff just isn’t funny.
I am laughing out loud now, because of personal experiences with Groupon comedians. (insert link to recent local blogger complaining about a not funny groupon which I currently cannot find because of all the Super Bowl chatter)
This post may, or may not have, been written on a horse.
I left my house around 8pm to go watch Groundhog Day, Clueless, and Sixteen Candles at a friends apartment. I was compelled by some wayward adventurous spirit and amused myself with thoughts of Laura Ingalls Wilder upon setting out. If she could walk a half-mile in the snow to school every day, I could walk 1.6 miles in the snow easy. ”Screw all this hype about the storm – the last couple of storms have been huge let downs!” was my thinking…
I did bust out my black stuffed-down -sleeping-bag of a jacket, for the first time this winter. Just in case.
I exited through my back alleyway to check out the scenary and the wind hit me hard in the face with snow-sand. My hood kept getting blown back so it was necessary for me to hold it in place with one hand. My hat and scarf were not enough – and the part where I breathed into the scarf turned to ice later any way. Not only was the wind hitting me in the face with sharp evil snow, but it was also trying to undress me: the wind was strong enough to undo my snap buttons, and later, the bottom of my zipper. I stopped at the greek Cafe Restaurant on Lawrence to redo my zipper.
At one point, after sliding backwards a couple of steps, I held onto a pole. It was during this walk that I perfected my squatting-while-walking-into-the-wind-technique. I am quite proud of it. It took me about 45 minutes to walk a distance that normally took 30 minutes. Easy.
Full of movie magic, sugar and alcohol, I emerge 6 hours later. Lawrence is no longer a street in Chicago, but a foreign world of white. The snow storm gods had proven their power and I would be wise to show reverence.
I don’t know what it is about Chicago and the new Millennium, but this city is determined to remain in the media spotlight. In two years, Chicago has tirelessly churned out nationally compelling news stories: Obama’s presidency, Blagojevich’s absurdity, the botched privatization of the parking meters, the failed Olympic bid, last years violent summer including Derrion Albert’s death, King Daley’s shocking retirement, and now, the latest, Rahm Emanuel’s right to run for mayor of Chicago. Read the rest of this entry »
I will never write a thrift store guide for Chicago. I don’t want people to know where to go to get amazing second-hand clothing, so don’t ask… I am too selfish, and finding lovely clothing for less than 3 dollars is one of the few joys in my life.
On my most recent trip, to a store I rarely frequent, I discovered a plastic toy that plugs to your cars back windshield: