Over the weekend, I celebrated my 6th anniversary with Chicago. Congratulations to us, we’re such a cute couple!
Like last year, I continue to feel obscenely lucky to have accidentally tripped and stumbled into a city that makes me smile on such a freakishly regular basis.
How to commemorate? Eat in a new restaurant (check!), walk on streets thus far untread (check!), run a 5K along the lakeshore (check!), venture out with friends (hailing from NC, NY, PA, and OH, for what it’s worth) to a state park for a little hiking and admiring of nature (check!).
Make a list of all the things I’ve written about Chicago this past year? Why not?
- On the problematic phrase “keep gangs off our streets“
- The NOH8 photo shoot at the W Hotel
- Yoga, a bird’s eye view
- A Lincoln obsession fulfilled
- A fire on our roof, oops!
- Dancing across a gym while people laughed and pointed
- Alison Bechdel readings in Andersonville
- Zoe Zolbrod describes the neighborhood crawl
- Jewish services, for a change
- The Rumpus‘ poetry reading
- Chicago maps!
- The Art Institute was free for a bit
Phew, I only got as far back as December! Clearly, I’ve got Chicago on the brain.
My book club is currently reading Boss, an unofficial biography of the first Mayor Daley. As I dove into a section of Chicago history with which I was pretty unfamiliar, I got that same tingly, glowy feeling that I get when the skyline is finally visible out the window of a Southwest jet.
The list of Chicago things I want to see/do/visit/explore in the future is matched only by the eras of its past that I want to better understand. For me, the richness of my connection to “home” is dictated by how entrenched I feel in it now, but also how much of its unique and complicated story I absorb and there’s so much more to learn. To year seven!
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