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I'm happy to say this is the first time in eight years I didn't see 9/11 coming. I forgot almost completely about the anniversary of that infamous date until a few hours before this writing. It's a sense of normalcy that I haven't felt in eight years.
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It's a sad commentary on my social life when the highlight of the past week comes from sitting on the front patio of hoary Uptown gay bar Big Chicks on dollar burger night, doing Gweilo impressions of contact sheets from AsianPoses.com. On a Monday.
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A bring-your-own-sponge cleansing moment to begin year five of Chicago Carless.
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When Sole Man Donn called last Friday to tell me he was on a spur-of-the-moment weekend trip in New York, he asked if I wanted him to bring anything back from my long-ago hometown. 'No, thanks,' I said and put my iPhone back in my pocket. Ten seconds later I found myself frantically pulling it out a
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Pizzeria Due saved my sanity when I first decamped Atlantic shores for Lake Michigan ones in the early 2000s. That's why my recent trips to the less-touristed, cheaper Lou Malnati's have left me riddled with guilt.
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As I mark my sixth anniversary as an ex-pat New Yorker living in King Daley's court, I realize this is the first New Year in Chicago that I don't want to be anywhere else.
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This year it took 18 hours to put up my tree, and I'm happy to have broken my personal record for speed. Previously, the same over-abundant Victorian tree I've done for thirteen years has taken me half-again as long. All seven-and-a-half artificial feet, 2,400 branch tips, and 1,250 lights of her. I
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Another in a string of recent unexpected happenings, last week, fellow blogger Chris Brunn asked to interview me for the Third Coast Audio Festival. He was fascinated by my being a fan of the Chicago Diner's Radical Reuben. So...he interviewed me eating one.
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Today, with the world again awash in retrospect, I usually prefer to be blogging about about courtesy, or kittens, or one of any number of safer, happier, topics. Seven years on and I had originally thought not to mark the occasion again. At some point, we just have to emotionally let go inside, or
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You have better things to do today than surf through lunch on the Internet on the anniversary of 9/11. There are important people in your life and you know you've been taking them for granted. Yes, I'm talking to you. Now get off the Internet, pick up the phone, and tell them so: husbands; wives; li
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Recently, the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Center in New York profiled GLYNY Again in its monthly video features program, Out at the Center. That's the alumni group for Gay and Lesbian Youth of New York, America's first-ever gay youth group, of which I was an active member from 1986 through
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Sometimes in life we don't learn our lessons until a little too late. Last weekend, my boyfriend brought me back to reality. This weekend, I'm afraid we're saying good-bye, and I wonder how much of that is my fault and how much is simply to do with a love that went faster than maybe it should have.