The Wall

Over the past week I've been in the process of moving my whole life from this beautiful little Pilsen world over to our new apartment that Brian and I will live in after the wedding. This is a bittersweet process. This apartment has been the site for my coming of age years, it saw me through TFA ups and downs, and introduced me to some fabulous roommates. I love this place so, so, so much. One of the things that I love about it is a little tradition I started on the first weekend there. It was July of 2012, I had just finished TFA Institute training, and was painfully nervous about entering adulthood, meeting people at my school, and starting to work at this crazy job on August 1st. I decided that a little inspiration and encouragement was just the right thing to focus on, so I took a note from a friend with particularly kind words and taped it to the wall. And the Wall of Kindness was born. 

As any Teach For America teacher knows, one little note of encouragement is surely not enough to help you last through the year :) My Wall of Kindness kept growing; with each wonderful note from a wonderful person I had another artifact of goodness to keep me going. I got notes from cousins, sisters-in-law, friends, students, roommates, people from my hometown, and then even a few notes from that Brian Whartnaby guy started showing up in the summer of 2013. Handwritten notes are something that I value deeply, and I loved the daily reminder of the love I have in my life. 

So, as I had to move on and clean out my room, the Wall of Kindness of course had to be dismantled. It was sad. But it was also great. As I peeled each one down, I remembered the person who wrote it, pondered the sweet words on it, and each one brought a smile to my face. It reminded me to add to other people's Wall of Kindness too. So if you were one of my featured favorites, thank you for helping me wake up and face each day for these past two hectic, crazy, and wonderful years. 

Second Fridays

Earlier this month Brian and I finally got to get out in Pilsen and my surrounding 'hood. It seems that winter, finally, is really gone. We walked around for Second Fridays, the monthly open gallery night in the Pilsen Art District. We meandered through studio apartments set up for art displays, sipping wine as we pretended to understand the content. There are some amazingly talented local artists in Chicago, and their work was beautiful. I'm moving to our new apartment next weekend, and I'm starting to get nostalgic already. Nights like these will make me miss living in the city. Good thing we can always visit :) 

Both Sides

Both Sides Gallery: reason #4692 why you should come to Pilsen. My wonderful friend and outing-coordinator-extraordinaire Sam got two other friends and I a Groupon to this awesome place for a beautiful Sunday.

A “retired” (I put quotations around that because this chick is really young and cool) CPS teacher had enough of that high-stress life (word up) and decided to change careers by following her dreams in the non-profit industry. She opened Both Sides Gallery, which is half art studio, half tutoring center for kids in Math and Science. The name is obviously derived from her passions of cultivating both sides of the brain intelligently. They host parties for people who want to get together and paint all afternoon and that is precisely what we did.

Sam, Chase, Laura, and I sat down in front of empty canvases and looked through albums of pictures for plagiarism (cough)...I mean...inspiration and got started on our way. It was a fabulous three hours of painting, chatting, wine-drinking, and pretzel-eating. I call that therapy. Check out the pictures for our finished results! (Laura and I both liked the same picture. Come see mine hanging on the wall in all of its glory in my bathroom). 

Can you think of a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon before a hectic week of teaching? I submit that you cannot. 

Please check this place out! Do it. Now. It's cool. 

Small Town

Yesterday, I had the privilege of being on the receiving end of a random act of kindness. It is absolutely wonderful when that happens. Although I've been fortunate enough to experience this kind of a thing before (here's the story of one of my favorite instances), each time a stranger goes out of their way to do something kind, it shocks me. It was especially cool this time because it happened in a big place like the city of Chicago, where people (like myself) tend to expect it the least. 

This weekend, one of my favorites, Ashley Wisz, came to visit me (more on that in an upcoming post) and I took her around my neighborhood and favorite places to show her a little bit of my life in the city. This, of course, includes Simone's, my favorite bar. Ashley is too nice for her own good and treated me to my drink and would not take no for an answer. I should invite friends like her over more often. But then, that meant that I didn't have to check my wallet for the rest of the night. This means that my purse stayed on the bench for the duration of my meal. And this also means, of course, that when I left the bar, I was so happy and thankful for Ashley's generosity that I left my purse right there where I set it down in the first place. 

Bad move, Anna. The prognosis on leaving a purse behind anywhere in public is not a good one. If I left my purse out in Cedar Grove, Wisconsin, I wouldn't be too hopeful about getting it back. Chicago, I thought, must be hopeless. Who knows who's walking past that bench? I figured it was a goner. 

On Sunday morning, I was rushing around looking for my purse so I could drive us to church. Alas, I figured it out. Crap. I'm an idiot. That thing is never to be found again. 

So we continued on to church and went about our morning, waiting until Simone's opened so I could give them a call. I'll admit to you readers (this is not a proud moment) that instead of confessing my sins during the silent prayer, I was asking God to PLEASE let that brown purse and all of its contents to be safely nestled behind the bar on the corner of Morgan and 18th. I know, not cool. All I could think about was calling my parents to tell them about my stupidity as I asked for what the next logical steps were to reclaiming my life. I was facing identity theft, a trip to the DMV for a new license, new credit cards, and, of course, and maybe most painful of all, a long, long sermon from my father about the importance of situational awareness. This is what was on my mind at church.

But then - as you've probably already figured out by now - I made the call and found to my delight that I did not have to face any of that at all. "Yes, we are so happy to tell you that we have your purse for you!" said the voice on the other end of the phone. I stopped by Simone's on my way home from church, ran inside, thanked the lady profusely, and promised my undying loyalty and support of her local business (pretty sure she doesn't own the place and that she is just a bartender, but hey...I was excited) for as long as I live. Every last dollar, card, and check was still in my wallet. It was a great moment in humanity. 

I guess stuff like this happens all the time. People really do help other people out. Just because it's a big city doesn't mean that Chicago is an evil place. I'm starting to realize the great thing about this city is that Chicago is just a very, very, large small town. If I can help someone else feel like they're on main street just a little bit like that bartender did for me, I think that would be a great thing. 

Suh-currity! Suh-currity!

This weekend was fabulous. It just was. Friday night started it off with a low-key, wonderful reunion with two of my favorite people. Hannah and Emily, currently seniors at Trinity, were quickly adopted into our class our sophomore and their freshman year. We love the people in the class below us, and people like these ladies are why. When we had our house senior year, Emily and Hannah were fixtures on the weekends. What I would give to wake up one more Sunday morning in that house to see them there ready to head to church with us followed by a trip to Chipotle. They are both adventurers to the max and I love that about them both. Hannah will be in Kenya, biking across the country, then off to teach children somewhere cool. Emily is going places as well, whether that's abroad or somewhere cool here in the states as a social working super hero. It's awesome to have friends that inspire you.

at Pilsen Vintage and Thrift on 18th.

We walked around Pilsen and checked out a few thrift stores. There are the most adorable vintage and thrift stores near my apartment. It all coordinates with the artsy little community feel we've got going on down here on 18th street. I love my neighborhood. We strolled around and ended the night at Simone's, my favorite place in the area to take visiting friends.

I wouldn't be walking around my neighborhood alone at night in the dark (...I wouldn't be walking around anywhere alone at night in the dark...) but one very concerned citizen stopped to chat with us three girls as we were walking to Simone's after our thrift store excursions. He hit the brakes on his bike very abruptly to tell us that...and I quote..."EVERYONE IS GETTING SHOT AROUND HERE. STOP WALKING AROUND." Thanks brah. Lemme quick call suh-currity. Needless to say, I did not heed his warning because he himself was biking alone in this neighborhood he called a war zone. Well, Pilsen might not be everyone's favorite, but I love going with friends to enjoy its thrift stores and bars with sweet potato french fry appetizers. Naysayers should just keep on biking north.

guapas

(And for my concerned family members...no, it's not that bad. Yes, you shouldn't be stupid about it and remember to employ the Brian-Gesch-patented Situational Awareness at all times. But, no, everyone is NOT getting shot around here. For example, me.)