seeking Margie Morris, part 2

I was fresh on my Ancestry.com kick, which could access various U.S. Census reports. But with a last name like Morris and 2 first names not altogether unique, I needed to start making some assumptions.

A woman in 1940 who was old enough to have a baby but too young to feel she could raise it on her own was probably somewhere between 15 and 23. Any older than that and she’d be more likely to be married; any younger and it’d be a pretty unusual circumstance. That gave me an est. birth date 1925-1933.

I did a keyword search for Margie, Sampson, and Morris against a rough range close to those dates. After at least an hour of combing through public records, I found a hit under the Cook County Genealogy Records.

Candidate #1

Name: Margie Morris

Marriage Date: July 19, 1939

Spouse: Robert Sampson

Marriage Location: Cook County, IL (i.e. Chicago)

This could be her??? Correct maiden name, but it looks like her married name would be Sampson so the name I know would have been inverted. Very possible.

I also found a census record of the two of them in Chicago in 1940, and they were logged as being 20 and 21. That means she would have been ~28 by the time she had my dad. This seemed too old. Plus she was married by then. Why give up a child at 28?

But, I needed some encouragement and this was something if not nothing, so I kept hunting with my new info. At the end though, I managed to only find one other document that supported her existence: an obituary clipping for a relative that referenced her living in a suburb in the 80s. End scene.

I kept looking.

I took to the internet (God help us all), searching for a slightly younger Margie Morris in Chicago around 1948. After another excruciating hour of experimenting my way through search terms, I found an obituary/article on a judge named Margie Morris from California. Which brings us to -

Candidate #2:

“Presiding Justice Morris attended Northwestern University School of Law, graduating in 1948. There she met her husband, Robert S. Morris…They moved from Chicago to San Bernardino in 1949…Morris was a trailblazing pioneer for women’s rights.”

Don’t get confused like I did. This is a different Husband-Robert from Candidate #1. This Robert has an S. middle name but that’s not the one that matters…we need her middle name to have an S. The interesting part, though, is that she was in the right city during the right year. And then she got out of dodge immediately after that with her new husband. I think giving up your child might be good incentive to leave town in the 40s, what do you think? And after experiencing such a deeply traumatizing experience that only a woman could empathize with, maybe you too would find yourself committed to fighting for women’s rights? How's the web I'm weaving...convincing?

The tail end of the article listed survivors and also that she had been predeceased by her son David. Majorly important detail. Did he have what my dad had? Which would make that disease absolutely hereditary and also would mean I might not even need to keep looking to have my answer? 

I searched ruthlessly for his obituary but not shockingly, "David Morris California" is a Where's Waldo rabbit hole. I also did search after search for every one of her living relatives - including her other son Stephen - and found NONE OF THEM. Ancestry.com, Facebook, Google, nothing. Why couldn't she have named the kids something with a little pizzazz? Maybe they could've moved away from the most populated state to somewhere nice and cozy with not-as-many-citizens? Because I'm sure I could find a Tobias in Rhode Island...

At this point, Margie #2 has most backstory, the most plausibility, and the juiciest lineage to offer. But I don't know how to dig up more information beyond what I have now. But now I can't let it drop. Every time I start searching again, I find something new. Surely something will pop up? 

seeking Margie Morris, part 1

When I was about 10, my mother told me my father had been adopted. With no gauge for sensitivities yet, I openly asked him about it in an assumptive way and was hissed into silence - my grandparents were my grandparents and that was that.

Now I have the same curiosity about adoption that I'm sure many do - hypothesizing about backstories, motivations...that critical point where someone decides they just can't or shouldn't raise a child. All the adopted children I've known have grown up in wonderful families and so it became a universal truth for me that adoption is for the best. If you're unsure, watch one episode of 16 & Pregnant and then we can pretend like this whole disagreement never happened...

So okay fast forward back to the adoption being rigorously denied. I had no idea how he felt like this was plausibly deniable in any way...he looked absolutely nothing like his parents or his sister (also adopted). There are mysteriously no pictures of my Grandmama ever being pregnant. Oh and there's the birth certificate that he once showed my mom, registering him to someone else. While my mom can't ever tell a true depiction of emotional facts, she does have a scary steel trap for details such as: Margie Sampson Morris*, 1948, Chicago.

I wouldn't think of Margie S. Morris with any real interest for years. But I also didn't forget her name.

Then, fast forward forward this time to a few key events:
1) Around 2004, my Canadian aunt finds her mother and invites her to a family wedding. Thus I guess the Adoption Cat was out of the bag. I don't ask my Dad about it, but my curiosity is peaked.
2) In 2005, my Dad is diagnosed with myelodysplastic syndrome, which is fancy words for a Real Piece of Shit Disease with no cure. When he dies in 2008, I suddenly realize this RPSD might be hereditary for all I know and man would it be nice to have Margie Morris' medical records. I do some cursory Google searches to no avail.
3) During Christmas 2014, I get really into Ancestry.com. (You're wondering how those words could come out of my mouth - I can't explain these things). I get a free trial and spends hours and hours and hours building out my family tree. Free plug for Ancestry.com - this site is the bomb. I mean, I found pictures of family members including a great-aunt who died in a school fire who I had never seen before...fascinating!

Anyway, that hot & heavy free trial period made me realized that clearly I just wasn't trying very hard with this Margie Morris thing. I mean, I'm a Grade A stalker when it comes to ex-girlfriends...how had I gotten tripped up on this person?

So, I put those stalker skills to good use and started searching for Margie Morris.

*Even though the whole point here is to find this person, it seems like a real dick move to "out" someone nearly 70 years after the fact, so names have been changed and whatnot.

the one and only child

As my friends embark on having babies, and some now moving on to baby #2, it's been interesting to hear them explain their desire to have a second. I totally connect with wanting to build a family—personally, I'd love to end up with a houseful of kids and chaos. But there's often a nuance of fear in the conversation too...the fear of having an only child.

Even though I don't have siblings, I get that having a brother or sister is nine-times-out-of-ten the shit. You have an automatic best friend, a playmate, an unbreakable bond, shared memories. That's a blessing that, correct, I can't truly understand. So I get it if someone is sad that their kid might not know that kind of a relationship, and that I can't actually "get" that at all. 

But the funny thing is, I have only one time felt at a disadvantage for being an only child, and that's when my dad died and I had to pick up the pieces alone. But even in that impossible time, I still recognized that being an only child made the process simpler; it meant no fighting over tough decisions and stupid material items that shouldn't belong to us anyway...I just had to decide what choices I could live with making, and then make them. 

Other than that, I think being an only child has worked out really nicely. And not just because I got whatever I wanted (I didn't). Or because I got all of my parents attention (I did, and trust me, that's a bad thing too). But when I had to play alone, it meant that my imagination just got extra ramped up...I mean, have you ever gotten to be the shopper AND the checkout person in the same game?! When I wanted to play with someone else, I made friends...and they were playmates I got to choose all for myself. Which meant that over time, I've cherry-picked a freaking fantastic lineup of people I can't live without, people that feel as close to me as sisters, people that I fiercely cherish. Being an only child also meant that I fell in love with animals, because they were the extra "people" that filled our home. It meant that I behaved, because there was no older brother to buy me leniency with his screw-ups first, and there was no younger brother to distract my mom when it was time to pick a punishment. It was how I learned to love writing, because nothing passes the time like a good ole journaling session. For the same reason, it was how I learned to really, really love a huge variety of music. It was why I turned into an extrovert. It was how I became me.  

So I don't know. I certainly want multiple kids, but that's more because I personally love being around a group of people and to live with a group sounds like a dream! I'm actually a little scared to witness sibling relationships...what if they grow up to become strangers? What if they hurt each other, or hate each other? I guess the fear is there on either side. But don't be too sad for your kid if they end up being an only child. The beauty of it is...we never know the difference :)

laughing at yourself

Embarking on yet another, how do the kids say it, "shitty-ass-shithole" of a winter has made me absolutely cherish the ultra warm wardrobe I'm lucky enough to have. When the highest temp of the day is still in the negatives, you know you need to move kill yourself kill everyone else be bundling up in the best of the best. I found this post from two years ago and genuinely laughed out loud when I read about my winter wardrobe. Let's walk the historical red carpet together.

HANDS
Year 1-2: Wool gloves.
Year 3-4: Wool mittens.
Year 5: Down & leather ski mittens that I sometimes forget aren't boxing gloves.

FEET
Year 1-2: Boots.
Year 3-4: Boots specifically for commuting.
Year 5: North Face snow boots with insulation that protects down to -25. Which is great because guess what, four days ago the wind chill WAS -25. How 'bout them apples!

BODY
Year 1-2: Short puffy coat.
Year 3-4: Long down coat.
Year 5: Long down coat with hardshell exterior so that snow rolls off like a duck on wheels. That's right. #duckonwheels

When your #duckonwheels hood won't stay up and you have to walk 3 miles in the snow + wind, it's time for an old-fashioned berka

FACE
Year 1-2: Nothing. Ha. Ha.
Year 3-4: 2 moisturizers.
Year 5: 2 moisturizers for the face, 1 hardcore treatment for cracked hands, 1 butter cream for pre-cracked hands, 1 extra moisturizing lotion for everyday all over body and hands, and lotion in my bag. Your takeaway here is GET IN THE LOTION BIZ NOW $$$$$$.


EMOTIONS
Year 1-2: Vitamin D pills, 1000 IU, late in the season after getting a blood test and learning the target range is 50-80 and I was at a 12. Twelve.
Year 3-4: Vitamin D pills, 1000 IU, earlier in the season.
Year 5: Vitamin D pills, 5000 IU, which is basically one step short of checking yourself into a mental hospital. But as far as I'm concerned, anything they sell OTC stands for Off The Charts (Get You Some). So I did.



Overall, I can't say I'm making it look good exactly, but I'm learning...slow and steady wins the race over here.

2K15

This weekend I did something out of the ordinary (dare we say, {extra}ordinary*) by my standards...I went to see a movie. In the theater. With snacks and everything! What a luxury to have enough patience to do this. (That's what 2 weeks off of work will do for you). Anyway, Wild was my first movie for 2015, and damn Gina did it make me miss blogging. It also made me miss: camping, pushing yourself, mountains, no makeup, and generally kicking ass in all sorts of ways. But it did make me miss this little blog that has run the gamut from "sentimental explorations" to "embarrassing vignettes that should probably be erased from the interwebs". I'm 100% sure no one even looks at it anymore. So fine. I'm back for me then.

Since the calendar flipped, I've been reflecting a lot on 2014...it was interesting in that it wasn't wrought with change, nothing terrible happened, and I took some fun trips in between. The end. JUST KIDDING I just started blogging again, I'm ready to typppppe! 

2014, in short:

• The new job - Beginning here. I've learned a ridiculous amount during my job change - the easiest nut to crack was that *HUZZAH* working in the nonprofit world is definitely the right field for me. Such a reassurance, considering it was the crux of my motivation to switch industries. In another post, I'll answer riveting questions such as, How much work is too much? Can I strangle the next person who says "lean in"? Will you define a "hostile work environment"? Is the grass indeed greener? Good things have happened too, I promise. 

• The new cats - One year ago today, we traipsed out into a snowmageddon to see if there were any kitties in the world that needed to be living in our house instead. Five minutes after we saw a tabby tween named Judo running across the room at a local shelter, we were filling out adoption papers...especially because he came with a brother, Sumo, who cuddled up to me immediately. They came home an hour later, and our lives immediately lit up! I feel so sorry for people who don't know the joy of animals. A strange, sad blip in the storyline is that Sumo came down with an incurable disease in June...within 4 days he was gone. It was such a shock. The only positive thing was that we were glad he lived with us instead of on the street while he felt so sick (unbeknownst to us, because dammit cats are good at hiding being sick). 

Sumo the Wolf (front) and Judo sharing the new cat tree.
Note: this tree is so big that it prompted a guest to ask "So like, do you have 17 cats?"

• By September, it was clear that Judo needed a companion or else because we simply weren't entertaining enough for him. Enter: Pixel the Kitten, another fantastic shelter find. I hope she's with us forever+ever because she truly completes our little four-some! She's the friendliest, spunkiest little thing I've ever met, chock-full of tortitude and ready to wrestle much-larger Judo at any moment. They are perfect playmates. 

  

  Pixel likes to jump on your back whenever possible and immediately lay down. Because your back is her property.  

  
  

  

  Judo is all grown up now, teaching Pixel to sit in the window

  
  

  

  Pixel, sacked out

• More church - I mean really, can you ever get enough of God?! Kidding / not kidding. I skulked into Community Christian Church in Spring 2011 and managed to fly under the radar for about six months before the pastor, heretofore known as Tammy, started to wonder who the wanderer was. Since then I've slowly become more involved, joining the "First Impressions" team (serving during service), joining a small group, and even nearly taking a full time marketing/communications job there. This year I starting overseeing the service team and accepted taking over our small group in the coming months...something I'm nervous about but really think it's going to do wonders for me and my walk of faith.

Hanging with church peeps. Out of church. PROOF.

• Domestic travel at its best - As per usual, we had a lot of weekends away, starting with visiting Jackie in St. Louis, our camping "party of bizz" in Wisconsin, Port Aransas girls trip, Texas for my mom's birthday and later Thanksgiving, Austin for the triathlon, Vegas for funsies, and Florida for a beachy Christmas (with a night in Biloxi mixed in). That's a lot of Southwest drink tickets. And perhaps more gambling than is necessary. But overall, such an amazing time connecting with friends and family...as grateful as ever for the ability to travel.

I hope the year ahead contains more yoga, less clutter, more nature, less cat hair, more writing, less days under 30 degrees, more green smoothies, less DVR...it's a tall order for 2015!

*blog jokes are the best

moms

I waited to write this post until I was certain (or at least mostly certain) about the trajectory that the story would take. Now, Mother's Day two years later, seem apropos.

Two years ago while skiing in Tahoe with friends, my mom found out she had breast cancer. Sadly, we can't say it was the most unexpected things since my grandmother (her mother) and my great-aunt both got it when they were in her 60s. My great-grandmother had breast & ovarian cancer as well, so we have it coming from all angles.

Together with her doctors, she decided to undergo a double mastectomy (which I'm sure she'd kill me for posting about on the worldwide web) within three weeks. At the time of the surgery, they would be able to determine if it had spread and then what further treatment would be needed. So it became a waiting game.

During that time, I thought a lot about the timing of major life events and what it all means. I've got to think there was a good reason for this news arriving at the very beginning of a five-day vacation with friends. I'm not one for compartmentalizing, so I can only assume I would've holed myself up in some crying vortex if I had been in Chicago. Or tried to fly to Texas immediately. Neither of those things would have really done any good, so although it really skewed my level of enthusiasm on the trip, I have to say that the distraction probably served me well in the long run. By the time I got back, I had gotten most of my sporadic emotions under control and was able to focus on what it was that I needed to do.

Of course, I never figured out exactly what I needed to do. The biggest lesson I learned from my dad's illness/death was that even though it seemed like the healthiest thing to do was to maintain as normal of a life as possible during the chaos, that could mean that you ended up being surprised by death and then second-guessing every time you allowed yourself to maintain a normal life. Since hindsight is 20/20, I figured maybe I should use this "learning" now...but to do what? The alternative of acting like everything is okay is to pretty much say or do the things you've always wanted to do/say for fear that your loved one will die without knowing or experiencing something. But in doing that, you insinuate that a situation just might not end up okay...which is why you're hedging your bets. And in a situation like my mom's, where she was terrified of dying, I figured the best thing I could do (independent of my lesson) was to be as positive as possible.

My mom recovered from surgery remarkably well and was back to work within a few weeks. After a lot of tests and doctor's appointments, they decided that she wouldn't do any sort of chemo or radiation and instead take a less-intrusive medication and continue to be monitored - so essentially, the best case scenario. Sweet, sweet relief! The weeks leading up to the surgery and through the initial recovery were just short of excruciating for everyone involved, but it's hard to believe that it all happened so fast! The experience feels so surreal now. And I'm certain it will never be over for my mom, who now had to adjust to a new body and also the fear of a recurrence. But still, I think we walked away from this with the biggest dodged-a-bullet sigh of relief you can imagine. I mean, my friends were amazing (especially Keely, Amy, and Megan, who drove from near and far to be with me and my mom), my stepfather proved to be even more loving and supportive than we already knew him to be, and I think a little piece of my relationship with my mom was restored during all the pain and fear. I saw her in a way I never had before - she was relentlessly determined and fought through pain and sickness to do her part in the healing process, and I think that played a huge role in why she recuperated so quickly. I've never heard her complain about it, and she's produced some wicked boob jokes out of it too (always a bonus). I'm proud to call her my mom.

So...here's to taking care of our bodies, taking care of our moms, and taking what's coming around the corner in stride.

Day before surgery, 2012

2013, Chicago!

X-mas 2013, Texas

tales from the train V

Today I was back in my standard, voyeuristic position looking over someone's shoulder on the way to work. 

This guy was 45, slim, ruddy skin, clean cut, glasses, close-cut hair, suit attire, big hands. Your standard white-collar nice-guy.

I first noticed him pinching the skin on the back of his left hand with his right index finger and thumb. Slowly scraping and pinching. Stop. Scrape. Pinch. Pinch. I realized he had a little bit of OCD in him, maybe the kind of guy who also likes to eat chalk...then I saw him stretch out his fingers and they were really, really knobby. It seemed like he might have an extra joint in his fingers. And then I thought, I bet if I wait long enough he'll do something weird again.

Patience is a virtue on the train. No less than a minute later did he nibble at the big joint on his thumb for a few seconds, then put it back in his lap. Wait for it....now nibbling at his next finger....wait for it...you got it, more nibbling. So the knobbiness wasn't just like a weird circus freak thing, it was actually a compulsive-biting-induced full-blown inflamation all over his hands. By the time I got off, his hand was wet with slobber. I AM NOT EVEN EXAGGERATING.

CTA: 5, LB: 0

remembrance

It's one of my favorite days of the whole year: Easter!!!!! Although I probably don't come across as the most reverent person, I take Easter and Lent and the whole story of Jesus' resurrection super seriously, and over the years I have found myself truly rejoicing more and more on the big day. Today Chicago was blessed with our first absolutely gorgeous day (i.e. it snowed last weekend and today we crested 70 degrees!) - in perfect timing to coincide with the greatest story of renewal and rebirth. This summer is definitely going to save my poor spirit, which was totally squashed by this horrible-no-good-very-bad winter. But enough about me. JUST KIDDING IT'S MY BLOG!

first time my shoulders have seen sun since September

Easter, all about remembrance, is aptly nested in the middle of the month that typically has its ups and downs for me. April marks my dad's passing and birthday, so it's just jam-packed with all sorts of shittiness. Six years later, my grief has shifted to this mild anxiety that I really don't know how to "remember" him appropriately. As in, I think it's really difficult to honor someone once they're gone -- in a way that reminds you of how much you loved them and also helps other people honor their memories with him as well. I mean, my dad definitely had friends, but as a single, older male with only one distanced sister, it just sort of played out that I was the closest person left to him. I hate the thought that other people don't remember him as much as I do, and the pressure to try to preserve his memory is even worse.

I know some people find a public way to commemorate a lost loved one, and even though I did a few of those things (like buying a brick at Town Lake), I'm at a loss for what else to do. It even seems weird to post on Facebook, say for his birthday, because I don't want people to feel sorry for me or something, I just want them to remember him. I've thought a lot about doing a Team in Training, which fights leukemia, but I can't honestly say I feel like that would do anything in terms of preserving his memory. I do make a donation in his name on his birthday and Brian & I share a Guinness every year too, but it feels so private...I already know WE remember him. I want other people to too.

If anyone has any interesting ideas, I'd love to hear them! Surely there's something creative and meaningful that we could get into...and if not, then this year there's a cat shelter with a donation in his name on it :) I guess I inherited my love for cats from him because half his emails were like a neighborhood newsletter on all the strays. I'll leave you with this one - makes me laugh!

The blue-eyed 3/4 Siamese kitty is all over me every time I see it and keeps trying to get inside.  It comes up for scratching even when there is food out.  Someone has apparently spoiled it badly .  This morning when I went out for the paper there were waiting for me:

blue-eyed kitty
blk/orange noisy one
little grey-striped Noko Mari
very old orange kitty
little black noisy kitty
another grey and stripes who has been coming closer and talks back to me

Lots of racoon prints on porch from last night.  Guess I better go get more food.

Pops the easy touch

the most important meal of the day

Errrrbody's gettin crazy up in the kitchen these days, and by errbody, I mean just me! It used to be that Brian was the master chef in the family, but when he got incredibly busy last summer I started taking the reins and somehow the power never shifted back to its rightful owner. Which is a disservice to all of us, considering once he told me that I should be on Worst Cooks in America (a real show) because I would win. He thought he was complimenting me.

BUT I got sick of my ever-reliable trio of baked chicken / stir fry / frozen pizzas, and started paying attention to my Every Day With Rachael Ray magazine (which I get by happy accident), and a little bit of magic has happened along the way. We're talking experiments, recipes, new genres, meal planning--which incidentally requires thinking, lists, research--NOBODY WARNED ME.

It also includes packing lunches for the week on Sunday, whipping up desserts on the fly (see incredible dark chocolate brownie recipe here), and my favorite, breakfast experiments. Mmmmm breakfast.

So, one of the worst things to happen when we moved from Texas was the taco trucks didn't follow us. How ruuuude. I was on an anti-tortilla kick for a while which I will later refer to as my temporary insanity so I'm only recently back in the taco game, but damn Gina, have we got this one nailed.

both with eggs, southwest hash browns, special hot sauce from a family friend and cheese; top with avocado and bottom with black bean dip

Next, we got a Ninja a few Christmases back and it's only now seeing its true glory...two wasted years we could've spent together! But now we're in full swing making a couple of these bad boys for breakfast each week. I'm still trying to nail the best balance between being healthy and delicious, so if you have any good recipes, please share! I pretty much blend 4-6 fruits/veggies together every time so no smoothie takes a particular flavor, but I think if I could limit the ingredients then I'd start to differentiate them, which might bring some pizzazz. Yeah I said it. Motherf&@(n pizzaz.

rainbow of deliciousness

Then, this month I was reading the Rachael Ray breakfast issue at the gym, and I got all fired up about french toast--which I've never made in my life--and ran straight home from my workout into a tub of sugar. A half hour later, I came to from a blackout and this was on my plate. Whaaat? It was a culinary victory for me for many reasons, mostly that we somehow had all these ingredients in the house and that I actually took that into consideration before I began cooking. That, my friends, is what we call progress. 

cinnamon sugar french toast with a peach/syrup compote

And finally, one of my recent favorites: Alton Brown's Southern Biscuits! This was my first foray at a bread, and I was surprised to find that you didn't need yeast or self-rising flour or SOMETHING weird/different. Again, mostly things we had in the pantry...except buttermilk...tend to not keep that on the daily menu. They were pretty delicious and simple to make; I'd definitely do it again but halve the recipe, because now it's been biscuits-all-day-every-day-and-even-a-Texas-girl-needs-a-break-from-that-shit. Here's the crazy thing about the biscuit experiment. I was on a high after I made them, so in a super hipster moment I made this chia seed jam to go with them. Unfortunately I violated my only cooking rule of following the recipe first before making adjustments, so my wacko raspberry lemon jam was a major fail (tart x 10), but the chia seeds actually gave a good consistency, so I would try again. Not sure I'll ever start canning, but it's nice to know we could make something at home if the zombie apocalypse wipes out all the Smuckers. 

I also found a heart-shaped cookie cutter in my grandmama's old cooking stuff. Huge win! 

Here's to keeping the experimentation (and failures) going! 

temporary retirement

What better way to re-join the blogosphere than by gloating about my recent two weeks off of work! In between jobs! Because I got a new job! Seeing as how I haven't posted in more than 3 months, there's a lot to catch up on, but the best/biggest news is the most recent fortunately, so let's get into that.

My old job: I can't wait for the day when I get to reminisce about my brief three-year stint in the agency world. I worked for possibly the best place in the industry, not because of the creative caliber of the work (yeah I said it), but because of the culture. That place was all about the perks - masseuse, stocked kitchen, themed happy hours every Friday, paid gym memberships. I would describe everything else as charged. Deadlines were fast and furious. The same work could be fascinating (p.s. thanks for answering all my underwear surveys) and at the same time deeply unfulfilling (cough, underwear surveys). Coworkers flew around the office making me want to punch them with their superiority complexes and then they'd save my ass in a meeting 10 minutes later. Clients knitted you scarves (really!) and then asked you to get on a flight across the country for one, superfluous meeting...on your vacation day...which they were fully aware of. All in the name of consumerism :)

This Advertising Life does a tremendous job of capturing the absurdity of it all

That being said, I worked with some incredible people. Our female CEO was one of the most inspiring people I have ever met—such a graceful blend of compassion, honesty, confidence, and humor. My boss taught me that being a good manager starts with empowerment, trust, flexibility, creating opportunities, and pushing the boundaries for great thinking. And my hilarious, spunky coworkers...so sad to leave them behind. Who am I going to sing karaoke with? Play pranks on? Learn new dance moves from? Practice new accents with? Revolutionize the company with? Be catty with? Sigh. The new gig is not going to stand for any of these things.

My new job: While I was figuring out what it meant to work on marketing strategy for the last few years, I kept feeling a pull toward the nonprofit consulting world. I'd dabbled in it for a brief stint back in the day, LOVED it, and never could get back in once I was out. Getting into my last job was actually a total fluke, as I was searching exclusively for jobs in the nonprofit world. Anyway...so after we got back from Africa, I knew my days were numbered. I just couldn't handle it. I started having conversation...after coffee...after phone call...after email...trying to get a sense for what the nonprofit scene was like around here. And then a miraculous thing happened, and I mean that very literally.

One night I saw a job posting for a strategist at a nonprofit consulting-type firm online and decided that the next day, I'd start hunting down all my contacts to see who had a connection to this very, very tiny company that I was very very interested in. Those firms are few and far between as is, even in a city as big as Chicago, and finding a strategy job specifically was a total needle in the haystack. I wanted to play my cards right and find someone—anyone—who could recommend me...which I knew was going to be a brutal process because less than ten people worked at the company and I had no LinkedIn connections. Where to begin...

The next morning, I had a coffee that had been delayed from three weeks prior; it was with a woman who worked with an amazing nonprofit. On the whole our conversation was good, but seemed like it wasn't going to go anywhere afterwards. At the end of our meeting, I was thanking her for her time and packing my bag and she interrupted me with an after-thought, giving me the name of one other person I should think about talking to. That woman was the owner of the very very tiny company that I'd seen posted the night before. Honestly I had goosebumps as soon as she said it—every step of the way, I had a feeling that I was going to get the job, and now I start my first day on Monday! Which makes no sense actually, because they wanted someone with deep fundraising experience and I have exactly 0 of that. But the original coffee-woman's referral was apparently worth its weight in gold, because that got me into a "show and tell" of my work so they could assess my skill set and from there I did a test assignment, which I thought was fascinating and got me really excited about the job. And now it's ON!

I genuinely feel like I'm embarking on a career change that's right for me. I think my experiences, education, trip to Africa, everything...it all feels like it's prepared me for this! Crazy right? I'll try not to let my idealism get buried under the things that I know may be less fulfilling: building budgets, project management, admin work, etc. But for the big stuff—the strategy, the research, working hand in hand with our nonprofit clients—let's get that party started!

baby mamas

Something was in the water circa 9 months ago, because people are popping out babies left and right around here! My two closest friends in Chicago are among the crew, and finally the babies are HERE! It's been a privilege to ride the wave with both girls all the way from pre-conception (when should they go off birth control? are they ready to have a baby?) to baby showers (butt paste! thanks so much!) to present day (wait what do I do with this thing?). Both babies are officially born and officially adorable. Each girl was significantly different in her approach to prepping for the baby, so it was interesting to hear their rationale and wonder of course...is that what I would do? 

playing civilized at the baby shower for Jess

welcome Lily! she came out with a full head of hair and couldn't be cuter

first big post-baby date night in the city for Jess...feels good to be back in action!

I find myself scanning a lot of "new mother" articles in hopes that maybe I can pass them along to either friend, and the one thing I've picked up from them is that there are hardly any right and wrong methods to parenthood - that most actions and decisions fall in the nebulous gray area, and that as long as it works for your family, that's 100% okay. (Also, it's a scary world out there on the world-wide-web...don't go there anytime soon).

Yay for these brave mamas, taking on such humbling, exhausting, and exhilarating roles in life! Already I don't know how they do it. But I have to say, I'm happy now that a handful of close friends are experiencing motherhood before me, because they can skim through all the crazy out there and hopefully have some great, sane advice by the time it's my turn. Right? You guys are going to do all that pre-work for the rest of us, right? And then it'll be 10x easier for us? Excellent!

"Baby-Q" for Kim (oh, and Mark...)

baby Jude! fresh in the world two weeks ago! so far he's super snuggly :)

highlight of my week visiting Jazzy & Jude

pic stitch july

Being in town more than usual the past few weeks (and entertaining myself while Brian's at his show) has made for a lot of roaming around and constantly being reminded of how freaking beautiful this place is during the summer...coming to you via Pic Stitch.

Downtown in daylight? Don't mind if I do! 

Clockwise: pavement statements, Blackhawks helmet takes over the Art Institute lion; beach volleyball.

Book club met to chat about Cutting For Stone (I liked it, you might too) at one of the girl's condos on the outskirts of downtown.

Clockwise: Balcony view; river on the other side; a Pinterest-worthy centerpiece.

More urban playing...

Clockwise: train in trees; bike rack; playing ladders at a rooftop party; train art.

I desperately needed some peace and quiet, so I drove outside the city to a forest preserve - great trails that weren't too crowded, with a huge set of stairs perfect for a little extra exercise afterward (which is why I am hobbling around now).

And our roomie! We have a friend named Trista who returned to Chicago for the summer (after moving to Kansas City) to be in the show Brian's doing, so she's living with us! She's so vibrant and funny, and it's great having her around...harkens back to all my awesome days with girl roommates!! 

Clockwise: in the show; after hours; at her cabaret show (something separate) which is hysterical and lude and full of improv...ie, incredible.

the battle of the cake pop

I tend to be fairly somewhat super busy, and in my rare moments with absolutely nothing to do, I sometimes start looking for a new hobby or project. Because I guess I'm crazy. Alas, I recently was wandering around Marshall's with one-hour-too-many on my hands and got overly inspired when I saw a cake pop pan on clearance. CAKE POPS! SO EASY AN IDIOT CAN BUY THE PAN AND THINK SHE CAN DO IT!

I had two baby showers coming up and I figured if I could master these little guys, that would take care of the favors or desserts for both parties. After 3 rounds of trials, I've decided that the ROI on cake pops is not even close to being high enough to justify the amount of time and effort they require. That being said... I never knew it would be so gratifying to actually produce a round, edible, intact ball of cake. Come with me on the journey...

Round 1: Prepare cake mix in the clearance pan. Follow the directions, and have this happen to you.

 

When you finally dislodge them, you melt some candy melts in a bowl, dip the stick into the melted chocolate, stick it into the cake pop, then freeze them for about 10 minutes so the stick will adhere to the cake pop.

 

Here's where it gets super tricky. Then you melt the rest of the candy melts and dip each cake pop in one by one. Sounds easy right! STOP RIGHT THERE. First of all, I tried melting them in plastic baggies, because I'm retarded, and those bags shriveled up so fast in the microwave it looked like they were covered in gangrene. Second of all, these candy melts, which are the only ones I could find at any store, are horrible for dipping cake pops. Even when melted, it's so thick and heavy that the weight of it rips the cake pop off of the stick, so then you have to kind of drip the chocolate on with a spoon, and then it looks like this.

what a masterpiece

Meanwhile I was reading tips from a cool site called Bakerella, who makes cake pops like this. So you see my frame of reference....

Then comes the fun step of drying them. The internet suggests either sticking them in floral foam (the green brick thingie) or using a colander. I had neither but I did have a not-so-handy basket, so I ghetto-rigged that drying center right up!

if you don't look too closely, they don't look so awful :)

these were the only 3 out of 24 that panned out. that's a 1:8 ratio. wahh wahhhhhh

Round 2: Laura came over and we tried a new recipe for fudgy cake pops, which I figured would be more dense and better for dipping. We did 1 set in the cake pan, which was a complete fail. That's when the clearance pan and I parted ways.

The other way to make cake pops is to bake a normal cake, then break it up into tiny crumbs, then add a little frosting to the crumbs to make them stick together. Then you hand roll each ball. SUCCESS! FINALLY!

It took an intense amount of frosting to make them look decent, and it was too much of a juxtaposition to the little bit of cake. Unless you're into really aggressive frosting.

So we ended up ditching the candy melts and dipped them in melted cream cheese frosting this time. Extra delicious, and much lighter than the melts!  

Round 3: This was the real mccoy, the weekend of baby shower #1. I tried 2 more new things - melted white chocolate for dipping (this was the perfect consistency) and full sprinkles on the outside (great for disguising frosting inconsistencies).

Stick 'em in a bag, put a bird on it, and call it a day!

So now the real question is: are these in any way shape or form possibly worth the time they take to make? The people eating them take two bites and it's over. And it took me 5 hours per 2 dozen cake balls. I can't say that's smarter than buying them straight from a bakery, which would be about $30 and a lot tastier. 

But then the masochist in me comes out and says things like, "But hey! It's fun to bake!" and "Now you already have all the ingredients so it'll be free next time!" and "Surely it can't 5 hours every time because you can't possibly be that slow and retarded!" UGH WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!

last batch for a while :)

If anyone is also clinically insane and has made these before, please let me know if you have any secret weapons you can share! And in the meantime, if you talk to anyone who says making cake pops is easy, then you should punch them in the face because it's not nice to lie, okay?!