Sometimes just crawling in bed, in the nude, just feels good. Reading a book under the electric blanket after a fresh shower feels even better. I pull out my book. It's a book I've been rereading for the past year, "Evolve Your Brain" by Dr. Joe Dipsenza.  I caught him on "What The Bleep Do We Know" and have become obsessed with the inner workings of the brain ever since.

I decided to pick it up again after not feeling myself late last week. I developed a severe throat ache, a sign that my body has been going into overdrive trying to kill off an awful infection. A sign that my body has been in an imbalance. A possible case of negative thoughts causing a chemical eruption?

My eye decided to do something random, feeling as if it could explode out of my head. I also came down with a bad case of a bladder infection (I haven't had one in several years), and didn't want to get out of bed for a few days. The pain extended all the way down to my feet, so random.  This all occurred in a three day period. My body, usually a clean bill of health, has become feeling fragile and I wondered if I was some how at a misalignment.

I pulled out the book, the brain bible, and re-read the chapter on self healing as to try and get rid of whatever my body was doing to me. Trying to get my brain to tell the rest of my body to beef up the security and stop the sickness.

I'm feeling much better this week. Lots of meditation, lots of downtime, lots of just being wonderful happy me.  I'm just feeling really happy lately, really content.

A new job is still on my future want list. I told myself that if I didn't get a job by April, (I have a few days left) that I would take classes this summer semester. So apparently that's what I am doing. I'm taking a couple of classes online starting in May. Fun-ish.

I'm using my eyeliner sharpener as a pencil sharpener. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I decided to take the evening off from life and indulge in some drawing, some cooking (spinach artichoke pasta dish) and listening to some moody music. I may even take an hour long shower (and avoid Earth Day).  I might even curl up with W.H. Auden. If there was a drop of wine in the house, I probably would have a glass of that too. I haven't had a night like this in awhile. I've been running myself rapid this last week. A night to myself feels good. It feels selfish. I like that.
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I've been trying to teach myself Dreamweaver. I give myself 15 minutes each day to learn something new. Einstein said that doing the same task every day for 15 min. will make you an expert in a year. I don't want to be an expert, but I want to know the ins and outs of this Adobe product. I'll move on to Photoshop when I'm feeling more artistic.

I challenged my friends to come up with a mock name for a mock foundation for a mock website. I asked them to think of a name for a foundation that provides fresh organic food to lower income families, whose providers are women. (Food pantries often provide processed crap to these families).

We all came up with the conclusion of "why is this so hard?!". Somewhere and some point when I'm least expecting it, it will come. The best I could do was Garden Goddess Foundation, don't judge... it's lame.

My buddy's band played the Metro the other night. While I missed the show yet again,  I have to say I am impressed at how well they are doing, if I could only say that I was really into the type of music they play, it's really indie and really hard. But still, kudos to them for making a name for themselves. Stylish and fashionable young rock stars, to boot.

I had a real life conversation today with a friend about relationships. Said friend works too hard at trying to find the right one, works too hard at life in general. It was the first time I have used my job as an analogy in a conversation, yet alone about relationships.

Said friend, thinks of them-self as crap. Said friend thinks that there isn't anyone out there for them. I explained to this person that at one time I had listed a house that smelled like cat pee. Many of buyers walked into the house and most of them quickly left in disgust. Some made short entrances and some stayed longer than they should have. One buyer in particular was able to look past the mess, look past the smell of cat urine and see a diamond in the rough. This buyer fell in love with the property. There is a buyer for every property, even those that look like they are in the worst shape. Just like there is a person out there for everyone. Someone who looks past the mess that took years of accumulation, someone who sees beyond the surface level, someone who doesn't care about the minor flaws, it's what's in the structure.  This person sees perfection when some see disaster.

I thought this was absolutely brilliant, my friend mocked me for this, got a chuckle and we moved on. I still think it's rather hilarious and I might use this on several more occasions when my girlfriends/guyfriends seek out love advice.

I walked what feels like 10 miles today. I sat down in Millennium Park and watched a bundle of Jewish men with their black pants, white dress shirts and the traditional yarmulke playing a game of football. I love watching a mix of cultures collide and clash in this overwhelming city.

Since I moved to Chicago I have yet to do the touristy thing and venture out  and explore the innards of the city. The year before I moved, I had the tourist locations down to a science.

I have these moments when I am taken aback. Moments when I look at symbolic Chicago, the Sears Tower, the Bean, Navy Pier, the Hancock Building, and I say to myself, I live here. Sometimes that awe captures me and cradles me into a nostalgic cocoon. Sometimes, I have to really be in it, really absorb myself into the moment. I live here. I live here.

On the way back to my cozy little apartment on the outskirts of downtown, where I can look down my street and see the Hancock Building in plain eyesight, Mori and I discussed the prior day's events. Jolted swiftly out of my dreamy city views, I decided... the city will eat me alive. Which it has in ways. Which it did yesterday. Which it has on many occasions in the past two years.

I find myself being tricky. Maneuvering my way out of situations and falling back into others. I find myself being a mixture of feisty and sweet. The Iowa sweetness I was known for fades and rises and quickly fades again.

The smell of the city, I tell Mori, is like a carnival. The food, from the city's massive amount of restaurants, mixed with the subtle flavors of the car smog... is delicious.

If the city plans to eat me alive, I hope it does. I hope I go down with ease. I hope there won't be any struggle. I hope I preface the entire maneuver with, that was a great ride. So go ahead city, eat me.

I had heard at some point your thoughts create things. It creates your existence and the way you move through life. It's the natural exchange of energy. Good brings about good, bad brings about bad. I'm sure I heard it in some quantum physics book I read at some point. It's always stuck in my head.

This morning I woke up thinking about the kid who sat near me in my college lit class. He was hipster as fuck. Me, with my deeply implanted Iowa mentality looked at him with a natural curiosity. His shaggy hair and brown tattered vest didn't sit nicely in my well organized and detailed atmosphere.

I thought about how he was discovered that semester, drowned in Lake Laverne. It was early Spring. Still cold. Iowa State held the yearly polar plunge in that lake, a few days later they found his body at the bottom of it. I think about all those college kids who didn't realize they were swimming in the same pond with a dead body, or the swans, Lancelot and Elaine, who hovered around him those few days.

And bad thoughts bring about bad thoughts and sad thoughts bring about sad thoughts. A natural progression in the state of emotions.

I think about her with her raggedy shirt and polyester shorts, often colored in vibrant greens or even yellows. I think about the apron she wore when amongst the field of red strawberries. The deep red and brown stains on her clothing from the ritualistic motion of picking them out of the ground and wiping dirt across her pants, picking and wiping. I think about the way she would stand in the middle of her massive garden while I ran down to fill my tiny hands with the berries, and let the juices run between my fingers. I think about the way she'd watch me. I think about the way she must have loved me. I think about they way I would indulge myself in that unconditional feeling. Infallible. I think about the ways in which I miss her.

And sad thoughts bring about tears.

I thought about her in my car. I sat in that vacant condo later and let you mirror my actions, and my unwarranted set of emotions of the early day. Afterwards, I sat in my car and cried about it. I don't know why. It was brief. It was momentary. It was over as quickly as it began. Maybe I cried for her. Maybe I cried from your anger towards me. Maybe I just cried.

Even big girls have bad days.

I had a fab birthday last week. I rolled in my birthday with my favorite people for dinner at Old Oak Tap and drinks at J-Bar, Angels and Kings and of course Flat Iron. I couldn't have asked for anything better, a low key night with the people I love.

The weekend was spent at my bestie's wedding and I was M.O.H. What an honor. Kel, is a girl I met 10 years ago, while we were dating brothers. We were kept apart for 4 of those years and were brought together a year later by none other than facebook. We found each other and shyly asked one another out for drinks where we bonded over rants and "what were we thinking" conversations. After that, we were besties from that point on. I love that girl more than anything on this planet.

I nailed that M.O.H., toast by the way. It may not have been brilliantly written, but I am just proud of myself for doing something I never thought I could do... speak to a crowd of 300+ people. I did it with ease and got a little adrenaline rush off of it too. You throw in a little Hawkeye bashing humor and you can get an Iowa crowd rolling, for the record.

I woke up this morning, my usual 6:30 am. I sat on my couch for a few minutes with the door cracked and felt a little breeze roll in. For a brief second I missed Iowa. It's awfully quiet in the city in those early morning hours before all the traffic begins and the taxi horns blare down the street. I enjoy the morning so much so, that I've begun to naturally rise at the exact same time every day.

I've been going to Stanley's on a weekly basis now. Loading up on fresh veggies and fruits, one little trip costs me less than $25 and feeds me for nearly two weeks. It's a great little fresh produce market here in the city. My only qualm is that it isn't closer to where I live. I wish it was in bike-able distance and I wish I had my bike as well.

It's gorgeous in the city today. I'm jealous of this guy toting a case of beer down the street. I want to be on a patio chatting with friends and drinking a beer and taking in the warmth...

I've said it a million times before, and I'll say it again. I love my life.

Ah, is it the weather? Is it having my windows open? Is it the thought of packing away my boots and substituting them for naked legs and dresses? My mood = bliss. A subtle increase from my average normal blissful state.

Things happen. They always happen. I want things and it happens. It usually happens at the worse possible time, usually when what I wanted is no longer of great need.

I spent months obsessing about finding a new job, any job. I would have licked concrete if it offered a steady salary and dental benefits. I got busy at work, real busy. Suddenly, I forgot about my job hunt. Suddenly, everyone has begun calling me about my resume. I offer them regrets. I have multiple closings in the next month. I want to see them through and reap the rewards from working my ass off, i.e. a hefty commission check. I turned down two jobs. In two months, I will want to kill myself for this stupidity.

Otherwise, life is good. Nothing to report, as usual. I'm still considering the new blog, which was indirectly encouraged to me by my bestest in the worldest friend, Kara (love this girl).  I kind of really want to do it. I'm kind of like really into it and dare I say a little passionate about it.

My bestie, KelKel, is getting married next week. Excited? Yes. Ready for this maid of honor speech business? Not at all. I'm not good at being sappy. I tell my girls I love them, but I'm not really good with this whole like "emotional you mean the world to me and I'm happy that you are marrying this man" thing. I'm happy for her, but my values and personal beliefs and perspectives on life cloud things. Writing this speech is on my most dreaded list. I'd like to stick to funny, but I don't have funny for this. My funny will come off as asshole funny, which is not funny to most people. Halp.

Speaking of Kel, she had her bachelorette party last weekend. Erica rolled into town and I felt complete. I missed her. I missed fun. Erica brings the fun.

I miss my girlfriends. Poop. Why does Iowa have to be so like, far?

So, this blog turned into a sappy, "I miss my friends" episode. It's the weather. You miss your girlfriends when the weather hits the 60's and you think about girl talks and coffee, or girl talks and beer. Daily girl phone talks just doesn't cut it.