Little league practice in the middle of the city. Same cheering moms, same overzealous dads.

Good to have nearby, as I toss around the possibility of running the marathon in the fall. Should I do it?

A storefront specializing in nothing but vintage stadium seats. Bringing relief to housewives around Chicago with no idea what to get their husbands for Christmas.

An old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness record shop.

Baypooch

Atlas has been constantly underfoot and begging for some playtime, so I decided it was time to hit the beach.

About a 10 minute drive exactly due east from the apartment is the only free run dog park on the lakefront. There was plenty of parking and, considering the holiday, fairly light crowds. Atlas did great, running up to strangers (man and pooch alike), sniffing and being sniffed, and generally just having a good time.

The only caveat appeared to be that most of the dogs were a little too well-behaved. Atlas was angling for a scrap, and no one was taking the bait. He got a few good sprints in, up and down the length of the beach, and I was happy he had a chance to stretch his legs.

After a brief watering, we walked more of the park, which was beautiful. It was warm and breezy today, and you could smell the charcoal grills firing up around us. There were the sounds of volleyball games, families chattering, and music from radios. Every so often you could catch the smell of lilac, which seems to fill the city.

Little guy is tuckered out after his fun on the beach.

What Really Matters

I made another deliciously dangerous discovery: a GREAT Chinese place in my neighborhood that delivers! I had spotted them in the shopping plaza of my nearest supermarket and decided today, while dropping off some movie rentals, to give them a try. Holy cow is this good stuff! Probably the best egg drop soup I've had in years, a shrimp dish loaded with the little guys, and a totally interesting (and tasty) variation on crab rangoon I've never encountered before. Who needs Chinatown?

I've set aside this weekend to just relax and be a bit of a homebody, a welcome remedy to the hustle of the last few weeks. It's been nice so far.

There have been a couple of other good discoveries over the past few days. Yesterday, I took Atlas to a local vet's office to update his vaccines and get some exams completed in order to get his pet license and permit for the free play dog parks here in the city. Several hundred (!) dollars later, I found out that the office I had randomly chosen for its proximity is consistently recognized as one of the best in the city by various local publications. And they WERE nice and very professional. Just pricey.

Last night, I hosted my first dinner for friends at the new place and, yes, it is as glorious to cook in the kitchen as I thought. The best? The dishwasher. As I dirtied a dish, I popped it into the washer, and ran the whole thing at the end of the night. Glorious!

On Friday, I took an alternate route home from work, avoiding the tollway completely. While it took considerably longer than the 32 minutes estimated on Traffic.com, the best part was discovering that it should be an entirely scooter-friendly route to and from the office. Traffic moved the whole time, and the speed limit never reached above 45 mph. Now I just have get the bike up here, and get my IL license squared away.

I have a little more lazing about to do in order to make the weekend just right...

Housekeeping

Thanks to all who have posted. Its great to hear from you! Keep 'em coming, and don't hesitate to ask questions, I'll do my best to answer ASAP.

Side note 2: did you know that snakes are prone to kidney failure? Also, you can buy little freeze dried mice in pink packages at the pet store. Who knew? I'll have to see if I can Google up a recipe that uses them.

To the Petco

It was time. I have been here nearly a week, and had successfully managed to avoid running any errands by car during the weeknights. This has been due largely to the selfish desire to not give up any primo parking spot I may have found on the street after work.

Honestly, I was also uncertain about navigating the traffic of the city streets. But, seeing as how I cut off a Chicago city patrol car this morning (oops!) and emerged unscathed, I was a little enboldened.

I had other motives, too. Atlas has consumed roughly half the polyester filling of his dog bed, and I was tired of picking up clumps of it from not only the floors, but also the, um, lesser end of my beloved pooch.

Plus, I needed to pick up a few supplies to finish getting the aquarium back up and running.

So we loaded up and hit the streets. Everything went well, in spite of a few missed turns. The only real problem I had involved some of the larger intersections, when as many three large boulevards come together in these massive spaces with taxicabs jumping into the middle of the fray, pedestrians eyeing you warily, and everyone inching, anxiously, to make their turn or veer off in a new direction. I don't know what I was so worried about. If I can drive a stick shift in Parisan rush hour, I can handle north Chicago.

It was cool to see some of the neighborhoods along the way, at least one of which I hope I get to visit over the holiday weekend.

Side note: I only lost one fish in the move, and none since the first of the month. This is all the more remarkable given that they went from a 10 gallon tank to a 3 gallon red bucket AND they didn't get fed at all my entire last week in Missouri, because I had accidentally packed the fish food with the stuff we dropped off at the new place on the first. Seriously, if the ASPCA has a watchdog for aquatic abuse, they should be all over my butt.

Lavish Charity

A good college friend had invited me to join him at a fundraiser for a local community health center, held downtown last night at the contemporary art museum.

It was a nice event, more casual than what I had anticipated, but certainly with a degree of elegance lent to it from the grand setting.

And the food. It was a food and wine event, and several dozen restaurants from around the city were invited to share appetizer-sized (amuse bouche, as the foodies would say) portions of their specialties, along with a wine pairing. Among others, I sampled Kobe beef made-to-order sliders, potato leek soup shooters, and chocolate cupcakes topped with real gold leaf.

It was an exciting night, tempered only by my after-work blahs and continued battles with seasonal allergies. As casual as the event was, I still felt a little outclassed in my consignment-shop Perry Ellis pants and Macy's house brand shirt. At one point I overheard on young job seeker talking about how he had hired a branding agency to help him develop himself as a brand, complete with his own logo, mission statement, catch phrase, and color scheme! It was a way of thinking that was fairly alien to me, but interesting nonetheless.

This was an installation piece at the musuem. Or the sign for a stripper lounge/tic-tac-toe parlor. You be the judge.

Neighborhood Field Trip: Wicker Park

I had two goals today. The first was to establish a local bank account. Did you know you can do that entirely by the internet these days? Blew my mind.

The second was to take a trip to a different neighborhood using nothing but public transportation, including a bus.

When I visited Chicago in January, I fell completely bonkers for the area known as Wicker Park. Since I got a bit later start than I had planned today (retrieving pugs from fire escapes and all), I decided I would tackle the 6 mile distance to Wicker Park as my first foray.

Wicker Park, and its sister neighborhood, Bucktown, are located just northwest of downtown, on the west side of the expressway, a bit removed from lakeshore. I traveled there by the Blue Line on the El, after hopping the bus just a few blocks from my apartment (you can read more about that below).

It is a relentlessly energetic neighborhood whose commerical district, at and around the confluence of three major roads, is filled with a dazzling combination of high end fashion boutiques and vintage clothing stores, coffeeshops, sidewalk cafes, used bookstores, tattoo parlors, pubs, lounges, pizzarias, pastry shops, and a little bit of everything in between. (It's sort of like the Loop in St. Louis, on steroids). Wondering off into the side streets finds you on quiet, tree-lined sidewalks with brownstone townhouses and smart, new-construction condo buildings.

What makes Wicker Park the most exciting for me, however, are the people. Young and beautiful, they fill the streets looking, well, young and beautiful. It's a funny cross section of 20 and 30-somethings in skinny jeans and hoodies trying hard to look ultra hip and edgy, without actually looking like they're trying to do so, and uber-preppy young professionals: frosted women with perfect pedicures and toy poodles peeping out of designer handbags and buffed, tweezed, and Italian-jeaned men paying more attention to their iPhones than the blondes on their arms.

I'm exaggerating, for sure, but I do love the maddening crush of it all. Snippets of conversation: people laughing, lovers arguing, singles bemoaning. Interesting food, handsome clothes, fresh music. The clatter of glasses, the smell of tobacco, the clanking of the passing El in the background: it's everything good about urban living.

I met my friend Emily at a coffeeshop across the street from the Marc Jacobs store (where I talked myself down from the ledge of $11 flip-flops). We scored a table on the back patio and caught up, while sharing a ridiculously large chocolate chunk, nugat, raisin, oatmeal, and possibly kitchen sink cookie. She had some work to finish up, so I wandered the streets a bit, braving a few high-end shops just to ogle the merchandise, and finally ducking into a resale shop where I scored some sweet second-hand jeans and a funky t-shirt. I walked around a bit more, found young families picnicking in the actual park known as Wicker Park, admired the combination of old and new buildings, and trying to figure out where I fit into the mix.

I took the Blue Line the rest of the way into downtown, connecting with Brown Line back home, and stopping along the way for my inaugural visit to Trader Joes (!) and carry out tacos at Jimmy's Mexican & American Food at the end of my block (fresh!).

It was a great day, tempered a little by my frustration that I'm away from the people I love the most, with whom I would love to share all this. Give me call, come visit; there are a lot of great neighborhoods left to explore!

The bus was nice; bright and fairly clean, there was a digital sign that would flash the name of the next stop, and an automated voice would announce them as they got close. The only caveat was that it took FOREVER. It took at least 20 minutes for the bus to arrive alone, and by the time I transferred to the Blue Line, the trip of about 6 miles distance took me about 50 minutes. This city can eat money AND time.

He's kind of tough to see, but in the upper right corner you can make out his little head poking over the lower rail.