We're heading back to Michigan over the holidays. Tomorrow, in fact. Going to spend the celebrated Turkey Day with my parents and brother, who will be flying up from Texas. We will have single-handedly doubled the population of Port Hope upon our arrival. The girls will be staying here at a canine "hotel" (we just tell them it's a hotel - better than letting them know they're going to the kennel) and having their feast with about 20 other friends. Echo will be telling everyone about the good old days back in Chi town, when food was scarce and she ran the joint. She'll then try to stage a revolt, egging the other dogs on and telling them they're too pampered and soft. It will come to an abrupt end at meal time, though, when she gets distracted by the food. Sarah will be staying here, and enjoying visits from the feline cuddle specialist, and has put in a special request for beef-fish for the holiday.

Anyway, thinking about them enjoying the holiday makes me less guilty about leaving them here, but there was nothing for it. The holidays are all about spending time with family, and bonding, but we didn't have the time to drive to MI, and we're not about to put them through the rigors of air travel just so we can be selfish and have them with us. Besides, it would cost too much, which, when all is said and done, is the real decider.

My mom and I will be getting the dinner ready on Wednesday, as much as possible. Which basically means that I'll be making pie, and she'll do everything else. I've volunteered to help because a) she'll need it, and b) what better way to bond with your mother than in the kitchen, right?

She said that she has an order in for a fresh turkey (not frozen), which gives me pause...how long does a turkey stay 'fresh' after killing it? A couple days? A day? So that means that the bird we'll be eating on Thursday is alive right now??? Oh, God - my cooking habits (if you can call what I do cooking) are so far removed from the food 'processing' chain that I've never really had to think about the fact that the animals I eat have at one time been living and breathing. I prefer it that way. Frozen/prepared meals are great for perpetuating that remoteness. But I can't escape it this time. It doesn't bother me enough to become a vegetarian...tried that once and failed miserably. (as a college student, I once found myself in the meat isle of Meijers, looking for ground beef, and came face to face with a saran-wrapped cow's tongue, which grossed me out enough to quit meat for about 2 months...but being a vegetarian is especially hard when you're too lazy to make even cous cous...so I gave up and went back to meat). I just hope my mom doesn't want me to stuff the bird or tie its legs or anything like that, because I don't like touching corpses. Somehow it doesn't bother me after it's cooked, but before hand, when the skin is all white and loose and slippery and the thing flops all over the place, that bothers me. Please, mom - we can bond some other way...like getting pissed at the men folk for not helping with anything. I'm good at that.

Hope everyone gets the opportunity to spend some time with their loved ones this Turkey Day.

shorthand, anyone?

Got a comment that my entries are too long. So I'll make this one short.

High heels & travels

I'm SOOOOOOO glad I'm no longer a slave to fashion. Okay, I was never a slave to fashion, but I've noticed that a lot of professional women here, much more than in Chicago, refuse to bend to comfort when selecting a pair of shoes for their commute...to the point of wearing 3 inch stilletto's to, on and from the subway in the morning. Which is fine by me, but get the hell out of my way, cuz I'll run you over with my comfy shoes on. Especially going down the stairs to catch a train. Nothing irritates me more than having some woman in front of me whose crippling choice of footwear slows everyone down and I end up paying the price of missing my beloved train...because you never know when the next one will come, so hey, if there's one waiting in the station, you make every effort to get on it.

Sorry if I sound like I'm being untrue to my sex, but it's the god's honest truth. You can't get around them, either, because there's usually either someone coming up the stairs, or the high-heeled wearing fool is taking up the entire staircase, while listening to her iPod and talking on the phone so you're reduced to pushing impolitely past...which I've not yet been able to bring myself to do (damn my midwest upbringing). Now, don't get me wrong - I like a good pair of heels just like anyone else, but I try to limit the time I spend on my feet when wearing them. So, basically, I just wear them at the office. I've got an entire file drawer full. Which means I never have to wear them commuting to/from. To the women of NY, I challenge you to think outside the fashion box, and try this for a while. You might actually save yourself a few corns and bunions, or at the very least, from being pushed down the subway stairs.

Sorry to start out my blog with such a petty, catty thing (sorry, Sarah, just a figure of speech), but there you have it. They say that you shouldn't let things fester, so I'm getting this pet peave off my chest. This is a lot cheaper than therapy.

Anyway, Mike and Carrie spent some quality time with us a couple weekends ago, and Carrie has the GORGEOUS pictures to prove it. Carrie - I think that photography class is paying off, because these are great pictures. Everyone - check them out at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=z243904.17rjfkvw&x=0&y=nhg247
Not only are the pictures great, but Carrie introduced us to a few cool places that I probably never would have checked out on my own, and the commentary on the boat ride around Manhatten was well worth the chill. Mike introduced us to some new pubs we hadn't been to yet in our own neighborhood. And then there were the cupcakes from Magnolia's...mmm, mmm, good.

This past weekend, I was in Chicago, ostensibly for work, but also for personal. Got in Thursday evening and met up with my Chi-town sista's (okay, I'm just sounding like a big dork, here, I know), Steph, Lauren and Michelle for dinner at Mambo Grill. Josh came round toward the end of the evening, as he'd already made plans (I didn't finalize anything till the last minute - my bad), but at least I got to see him too. I worked from the Chicago office on Friday after my presentation, and then the plan was to go out to the house and work to get things organized and packed (for charity or storage) Friday night and Saturday during the day. However, by Friday evening, I was sick as a dog (the 3rd time in 3 months!!!). Thank god Jim & Gisela came down Friday because if it hadn't been for them, very little would have gotten done. They worked like crazy - and I have to say that they think of everything. I got to the house on Friday, just wanting to eat and go to bed, and she'd already made the futon up with sheets, blanket and pillow she'd brought down from Milwaukee, and on Saturday, they took care of lunch as well, and let me sleep for 4 hours after my big trip to the dump. I'd also had plans to visit with Sheila and Imre and Alex and Ava and kid#3 (Sheila's due over Thanksgiving, I believe) on Saturday evening and spend the night at their place, but I really didn't think that was wise, considering she was already fighting a cold so I cancelled my trip in to town to see them. Hopefully we'll be able to catch them on the next trip in to town.

Anyway, this is rambling a bit, but to finish off this post, I thought I'd give my impression of Chicago on my first trip back...
Chicago's streets and buildings are much less compact than NY, things seemed cleaner, and office hours are much earlier, but the Mets/Yankees rivalry is as bad or worse than the Socks/Cubs rivalry, so at least there are some similarities.