It’s Not You, It’s Me

I’m leaving Chicago. I am not just announcing this to make up for the lack of postings this year. Although, C broke her elbow and I am moving so, I mean, buy C flowers. Her favorite are irises, which is only fitting since that is the state flower of Tennessee, and you know, the Appalachian trail runs through that state.

Anyways, in order to further my obsession with researching hipster culture, I’ve decided to move on to the next hipster enclave a state over. I know, just kidding! I’m so funny!

Oh, I have been masking my emotional turmoil over leaving my beloved city and my amazing friends with humor. Despite “oozing excitement” over my next adventure, I have had some very odd symptoms over my upcoming departure from the city that has become one of my great loves, right up there with coffee and Irish fiddle music. Now, if you see a ravishing young lady hugging a building on the corner of Clark and Dickens, move along, there is nothing to see! Same goes if you see that lovely lady absentmindedly smiling at penguins in Lincoln Park Zoo.

Should you take notice of that same vivacious old soul tearing up at the cafe she just now discovered next to her office on Michigan and Wacker that serves oatmeal lattes, well, buy that girl a drink for goodness sake!

I have quite a bit to share about my big move, but that’s not really what this post is about. The night my move become a reality, two of my favorite things about Chicago accompanied me to the top of that Hancock Tower, a first visit for me. As we toasted with champagne, I realized there most be a thousand things I absolutely had to do before my zip code changed once again for the sixth time in five years.

I’m now recording and taking suggestions for my March list for Chicago must-do’s. Please feel free to recommend (Okay, yes, I freaking love lists)!

Furthermore, since C is temporarily a cripple, we’d like to open up the floor to those who have expressed interest in the past about writing a guest post on HTBAATOTW.

More to come.

-H