Where Did I Go?

I have been a bad blogger (so bad that I just referred to myself as a blogger) this month. I meant to take a week off while visiting my lovely parents in Manassas, VA, but then never jumped back on as my return from vacation somewhat smacked me in the face.

Having never been to DC before, I took a day that I had all to myself and sauntered over to the Smithsonian, where I assumed the identity of "Who's that girl?" while perusing the Museum of American History and the Museum of Natural History. An idea for my "How Expensive Is It, Really?" column came to mind as I spent a whole day in our nation's capital hardly spending any money. As I force myself to get more on task, I'll write about that day. I promise, I will! For now, here is one of my favorite photos from the day.



Yep, it's the Hope Diamond as taken from the camera on my cell phone. My imagination took flight upon seeing that jewel...imagine how a string of diamonds would feel hanging upon one's neck!



One of the best realizations of my trip was that maybe I should consider another medium of performance. While sitting across from my dad at lunch, I recounted my 'idea' for the infomercial that would replace the Shamwow. That of course being my new aerobic dance video, entitled "Faux Hop: Hip Hop fo da Folk." My dad, who always listens with an educated, encouraging ear, cracked up and said, "You know maybe you should think about going to stand up open mics or something. Your honesty is too funny." So I sit here thinking "Why have I not?" And it's most definitely because I'm scared. We often ignore the things we're good at but are new to simply because they're new. Can I envision myself standing onstage making people laugh? Hell yes - that's not new to me. But learning how to exploit material from my life and the people in it in a captivating, hilarious and fast-paced manner is new. And hard. And intimidating.

My return to Chicago left my spirits down. I remember closing the door of my father's car and all of a sudden my eyes filled with tears. Perhaps it was because I wasn't ready to leave these guys behind.










But when I got off the plane and it was sunny, warm, and inviting, I knew I'd be ok. I wasn't returning to the monster of real life. I was just returning to a place where I have yet to find people that love me unconditionally. But really - who, besides my parents and my sister does? I think the expectation of having a family away from family is what always leaves me disappointed. So when I stepped off the jet bridge and into O'Hare, I once again assumed my "Who's that girl?" persona and walked away with confidence and glamour. (Special thanks to the person who took me out for a refreshing salad at Earwax. You rock and you know it).

I wanted to bury myself in a mound of work last week, and ended up coming up with a couple things - but mostly ended up getting back into the swing of teaching my classes and rehearsing for my first show with Adam (we've decided we're going to be called A Sample Life).


I had a special visitor from my chidhood visit just in time to catch our first set at the Red Line Tap. Another refreshing welcome back to the city that's supposed to have become mine by now.


We got pedicures at Amy's Nails in Wicker Park to simultaneously and belatedly celebrate her birthday and my future status as achiever of Album of the Year.

Equinox, Flirty Girl, and Wicker Park Fitness have all been great to me since I returned as well. I'm glad to be back on track with an almost refreshed mind and a more grounded sense of self.

Isn't it funny what a little time away does for the soul?