south of the loop

Because It Can Always Get Worse

I scheduled movers several weeks ago. Problem is, they didn’t schedule me. I found this out today when I called to confirm. I’m moving this Friday, by the way. They were able to offer me movers, but their trucks are booked all day.

So I started calling U-Hauls. Found a 10′ truck nearby—it’s almost certainly going to be too small, but it was all they had—and reserved it for this Friday. They require an Illinois driver’s license, which I don’t have. They’d accept my Indiana license if I had proof of being a student, but my U of C ID card was lost on the plane back from Factorytourpalooza. Called other U-Hauls, but there aren’t any trucks available.

Also, the moving company charges a helluva lot more if you don’t also reserve their truck—am working on negotiating this, since that part is obviously their fault—plus actually renting my own truck is going to cost a small fortune, since they charge a buck a mile, and I’ll be going from one end of Chicago to the other and then back again to return the truck. It will quite possibly take more than one trip, did I mention that? That the truck is too fucking small?

I had to get all of this down in writing because it seems unbelievable even to me. U-Haul will accept me as the secondary driver if I can bring somebody in with an Illinois driver’s license. My one friend who lives on the same side of town and who has an Illinois driver’s license is going to be out of town this Friday, and of course U-Haul won’t let me bring her in ahead of time to fill out the paperwork. NO OTHER U-HAUL has this stupid fucking policy, but apparently people on the South Side run off with their trucks all the time. Seriously? People steal U-Hauls? Because a) that would seem to be a highly visible and easily trackable theft, and b) you would spend bazillions of dollars in gas on the thing, although maybe they steal that too. 

I’m getting ready to call other truck rental companies, but I assume it’s going to be damn near impossible to find a truck for August 31. Does anybody have any suggestions? Negotiating strategies? Baseball bats?

Also, if you have an Illinois driver’s license and some availability around 10am this Friday, please let me know. I will make you punkin chocolate chip muffins every week for the next six months, I swear.

Head Under a Rock

I got on the elevator this evening after work with two guys, one of whom works in my office, one of whom works in the other office on our floor. But that doesn’t really matter, so I’ll call them Guy #1 and Guy #2.

Guy #2 strikes up a conversation with Guy #1 and myself about the weather, which is indeed conversation-with-strangers worthy. (See: any news source for details of tornado warnings and flash floods and massive public transit delays). Guy #1 is rather nonchalant. He is playing with his iPhone, so I can’t really blame him for being more interested in it than the weather.

We all get on the elevator. At this point, I’m close enough to drool over the iPhone, so I acknowledge that fact with an, “Mmmm. Is that an iPhone? It’s prettttty.” Guy #1 nods. I mean, duh, of course it’s pretty.

Guy #2 suddenly looks interested. Guy #1 obliges us and shows off some fancy fingerwork that results in, seriously, magic. Pictures of his basset hound! In portrait! In landscape! Email! More pictures! Sweet jesus, I want one.

Guy #2 says, “So what’s it called?”

Guy #1: “An iPhone.”

Guy #2: “How much does one of those things cost?”

Guy #1: “About $400. And look, it’s the best camera you’ll get on a phone.” [more fancy fingerwork ensues on his part; more drooling on my part]

Guy #2: “Huh. Who makes that?”

[The sound of my head hitting the elevator door.]

* * *

current book: Had to re-purchase Museum today. Am hoping I can either return the more pristine of my copies or perhaps gift it. But I looked through many, many boxes and couldn’t find it. I’m sure it’s on the bottom layer of a box on the bottom of the stack.

current music: The sound of heavy rain, thunder, and lightning. It’s a monsoon out there.

current socks: Thankfully I had flip-flops with me today. Socks are no good in ankle-high puddles.

Factorytourpalooza: In the beginning

I spent a long weekend in Fort Collins, Colorado, visiting my awesome vet-in-training friend, Miles. I rarely get to see her, and although we were both a little stressed (me: upcoming work deadlines, her: upcoming school deadlines), we managed to pack in the factory tours.

A little history. Many years ago, I found myself living with my parents in Carmel, Indiana, a snooty suburb of Indianapolis. I knew nobody. Due to a number of circumstances, I had to spend nearly all my time at home. No job possibilities, no car—as though it mattered, since I could barely find my way out of the neighborhood. Dark days. Very dark days.

And so I wrote Miles a letter and gave her a top ten list of reasons why she needed to come visit. I can’t remember what any of them were, but given my doomed plight in Indiana and my propensity for hyperbole, I’m sure they were quite persuasive. At any rate, she came.

But, Miles being Miles, she couldn’t just drive up from St. Louis to cheer me up. No, Miles prepares for these things. She went to the library and got a guidebook—Indiana: Off the Beaten Path. In it, she found a hidden gem: the Sechler Pickle Factory in St. Joe, Indiana.

And so it began. (The story of Sechler’s will have to wait for another blog post, but it’s near Fort Wayne, Indiana, and absolutely worth the drive, no matter where you live. Check out www.gourmetpickles.com, plan your trip, and get ready to try nearly 40 varieties of pickles!). Ever since the day when we gritted our teeth and forced apple cinnamon pickles down our throats, we’ve gone on as many factory tours as we can—our list includes the Anheuser-Busch Brewery, a shoelace factory, and a pizza farm.

So when I hit Denver early last Thursday morning, I was ready. Miles had a full itinerary: the U.S. Mint, Hammond’s Candies, and the Great Divide Brewing Company. And this was just the first day! Hammond’s Candies was probably my favorite of the day—a little quirky and a lot of fun. We learned, for instance, that it takes anywhere from six months to two years to become a candymaker! Simple hard candies are the easiest to make, but it takes a long time to learn how to make the candies with the shapes in the center. On Friday, we drove to Boulder for a tour of the Celestial Seasonings factory, and Saturday, we hit the Haystack Mountain Goat Dairy in Niwot, Colorado, and the New Belgium Brewery in Fort Collins. New Belgium actually clocks in as one of the best tours I’ve been on—Bernie, our tour guide, clearly loves what he does, and he talked more about the philosophy and ideology behind New Belgium than how to make good beer. Turns out that N.B. has been a green company from the beginning—they’ve been wind-powered since the late 90s, and they’ve implemented a lot of cost- and energy-saving measures in the beer-making process. And Bernie let us go down the employee slide, which is probably the most fun I’ve had on a factory tour!

I’ll try to post more detailed write-ups on our factory tour adventures over the next week. However, I am insanely busy at work, am pet-sitting for a friend, am writing a book review for an online literary magazine, and, oh yeah, I’m getting ready to move. So if you don’t hear from me for awhile, check out my Flickr set of the trip, which I trust you will all find highly amusing.

*     *     *

current book: Supposedly still Museum, on accounta having a book review on it due September 1, but I think my mom packed it in her enthusiasm to help get me ready to move. Shit.

current music: Lots of 80s tunes on the road with Miles.

current socks: Black with various cocktail drinks on them. They are my wishful thinking socks. Oh how I need a cocktail right now!

The View From My Window

buckingham fountain

millennium park

* * *

current book: Museum: Behind the Scenes at the Metropolitan Museum of Art by Danny Danziger. It’s quite charming.

current music: I’ve been listening to last.fm at work, but I can’t decide if I like it. I seem to get the best tunes when I tell it my favorite band is the Old 97’s, I suppose because they’re pretty consistent.

current socks: I have been attempting to wear cute shoes in the office, and my feet are totally paying the price. It’s a pretty stupid thing to do in the middle of marathon training—especially with the Chicago Distance Classic this Sunday—but I do spend most of my time sitting. And I still get fucking scars.

Best Birthday Card Ever

With much thanks to my friend Harriett, and also to Dr. Seuss, whose characters appear all over the card:

It’s Your Day to Make Some Noise!

Today’s the day!

It’s finally here!

Don’t be bashful!

Give a cheer!

(Just because you’re older now, don’t pretend you don’t know how!)

ZANG a cymbal!

BLOOT a horn!

Celebrate that you were born!

It’s your day!

No time for pouting!

Don’t just sit there!

Do some shouting!

Toot a TOOZLER!

Twang a ZONG!

Sing a made-up birthday song!

YIP and YELL from here to Boise.

It’s your birthday!

Let’s get noisy!

* * *


I plan to toot toozlers and twang zongs the rest of the weekend, personally. I do wonder, though, why “YIP and YELL from here to Boise” didn’t deserve an exclamation point?

Because It Never Gets Old…

…even though I do.

Three years ago:

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