Starting Anew in Des Moines

The streets of downtown are dead, completely deserted. The most activity is going on just outside our hotel, as the valets bring around cars for guests who have just checked out. My boyfriend and I put our headphones in and begin our jog through downtown Des Moines and over to the river, where we hope to get a better feel for the city where Steve's sister has decided to live. Once we locate the river walk, we make our way south for about a mile before we reach the point where the water forks. We are forced to head down the other part of the fork, but the path ends shortly after that, and we must turn around. The lack of runner-friendly areas certainly hurt my impression of the city, and I started to wonder if Amy would be happy here.

The trip began early Saturday morning. Steve, his brother Randy, and I woke before sunrise and piled into the car and then headed out to Crystal Lake. Once there, we helped Amy and Steve's mom pack all of her furniture, clothes and boxes into three cars. It's amazing how much stuff one person can accumulate. By about 9am, we were on the road heading west to Des Moines.

Now, you may be asking why Amy was making the move to Iowa. Well, her boyfriend got a job there, and since she was only working a part time job and couldn't find anything full time in Chicago, she decided it was better to be with him in Des Moines. It's a pretty big decision, and a major change for her. She's been living at home the last year and a half, a place where she's comfortable and has a good support system. So this was certainly life changing.

It takes about five hours to get to Des Moines, but we managed to stay entertained (thanks to Ted Radio Hour, one of our favorite podcasts; and some retro music that took us back to the glory days of high school). The scenery also made the drive much more enjoyable. I am a city girl, through and through, but I can certainly appreciate the beauty of the country. The fall colors are so vibrant, with the trees sprawling for miles and miles. There were times where I got lost in the mixture of golds, reds and oranges. I love fall.

Before long, we reached our destination and made our way to Amy's new apartment. Her boyfriend, Zach, lives right down the road from Drake University in an old cow milking barn that had been converted into rustic-style lofts. It was actually really cool, I liked it a lot. The only problem is that his place is one room, so if she wants some privacy, that will be hard to come by. She'll need to figure out a way to separate the room, it'll be an escape for both of them.

We moved everything in pretty quickly, and then headed downtown to the Marriott where we were staying. I was excited to see what the city was like, but I quickly learned that it wasn't all that exciting, at least on the weekend. We were clearly in the business/financial district, so most places were closed and the streets were relatively empty.

After we freshened up a bit, we walked down Grand Avenue and crossed the river into historic East Village. Finally, we saw a crowd of people in front of the restaurant Amy and Zach recommended for dinner. Apparently, Zombie Burger is the place to be on Saturday nights, because we waited over an hour for a table. Luckily, they had some delicious (and strong) beers on tap, so we enjoyed a drink while we waited.

When we were finally seated over an hour later, I was about to faint from hunger--or maybe it was that 12% ABV I had. Either way, I prayed that this place was worth the wait. And it definitely is. The menu  is filled with some very unique burgers, with names like East Village of the Damned, 28 Days Later, The Walking Ched, Undead Elvis and Envy Corpse, to name a few. I went for the Fulci (brie cheese, prosciutto, caramelized + raw onion and truffle mayo), Steve and his brother went for The Walking Ched (breaded + deep fried macaroni + cheese bun, bacon, cheddar cheese, caramelized + raw onion, macaroni + cheese, mayo), Amy picked the Raygun (monterey jack, fried jalapeños, caramelized onion, bacon, guacamole, chipotle mayo) and Steve's mom got the Undead Elvis (peanut butter, fried bananas, bacon, American cheese, egg, mayo). And if you think it sounds crazy, it looked even crazier.

After we raised our chance of heart attack, Amy and Zach took us to a great bar just outside of downtown, called El Bait Shop. Housed in what looked like an old trailer/cabin from the outside, the bar had walls covered in different beer taps, road signs, images of famous guests, retro posters and much more. The beer menu was just as varied. I decided to try an Iowa beer called Twisted Vine Honey Harvest. We sipped our beers and chatted for a while, but soon the food and the alcohol hit us all and we decided to call it a night. On the way back to the hotel, we walked the Des Moines skywalk, a maze of indoor bridges connecting all the buildings in downtown, especially helpful in cold weather months.

The next morning, Steve and I woke up early for our run. After running for only a couple miles and finding ourselves at a dead end, we made the best of it and headed back, but took a slightly different path. We made our way over the river and back into East Village, where the capital building and many other major political structures stand. It was here where my image of the city shifted. In the morning sun, the majestic buildings shined among the changing colors of the trees. As we jogged around, we discovered some beautiful public art structures and found an impressive view of downtown. I had to admit, it didn't look so bad. 

I will admit I had preconceived notions of Des Moines, of Iowa as a whole. I believed there was just cornfields and some small towns, and that's about it. I'm not completely wrong, I've driven through it many times and there is a lot of corn. But I was pleasantly surprised at Des Moines. There's more there than I expected, and, apparently, it was ranked a top city to live in because of its economic growth potential. I'm not saying I would move there myself, but for two young people in their twenties just starting out in their professional careers, it definitely has potential.

We ran back to the hotel, packed everything up and made our way over to Amy and Zach's neighborhood for a farewell brunch at Drake Diner. There aren't many brunch places in Des Moines, so, naturally, the wait was pretty long. But living in Chicago, I'm accustomed to long brunch lines. When we finally sat down, we quickly ordered and scarfed down our food. And then it was time to say goodbye.

Amy and her mom cried as they hugged each other, and I could feel tears brimming as I remembered saying goodbye to my mom nearly 10 years ago. It wasn't as emotional, but it was tough leaving a person who was always there for me, who was a strong support system for the first 18 years of my life. But you have to let go, because every parent wants their child to be independent, to live on their own and support themselves. 

We waved our final goodbyes, hopped in the car and prepared for the long drive back to Chicago. And as we merged onto the highway, I looked back one more time and said a little prayer for Amy and Zach, wishing them all the best as they embarked on a new journey in their new home.

Adventures Down Under

My arms ached with each stroke, straining to propel myself forward, as my legs remained fully engaged to make sure I did not fall. The water below me was murky, cold and filled with huge jelly fish...intensifying my incentive to stay standing. The sandy beach front glimmered in the distance, slowly approaching as my body exterted all its effort to paddle through the steady current of waves. But as I inched closer to the shore, the burn in my muscles gave way to relief and elation, knowing that I had accomplished my goal: Navigating a paddle board nearly a mile across Pittwater Bay.

For a long time, I had wanted to try paddle boarding, and what better place than Sydney? My recent vacation--just under two weeks--was not nearly long enough to see everything I wanted and still have plenty of time to spend with my family. Even so, it was wonderful to get away for a little while, and visit a side of my family that I rarely get the chance to see. Not to mention getting the chance to venture around New Zealand and check another location off my vacation bucket list. But before I headed off to meet with the Kiwis, I enjoyed a couple blissfully warm days in Australia.

I left Chicago on March 8, prepared to face a long flight to Los Angeles and then onto Sydney. (Luckily, my seatmate on the first leg was a native Aussie, so it was nice to have a companion along the way.) The flight was relatively painless for the most part; although, even with a seat that converted all the way into a bed and a sleeping pill, I could not manage to get as much sleep as I wanted. But the food and movie selection made up for the length.

Doors out to the pool at my aunt and uncle's house

Upon arrival in Sydney, my parents and Aunt Kathy greeted me and sped me off to Manly, a neighborhood just north of the city where most of my family lives. The last time I was in Sydney was when I was fourteen, so some things looked familiar, but it was tough to remember it all. My aunt and uncle's house was absolutely beautiful, with floor to ceiling glass, roll away doors that opened right out to a patio in the front--with a pool--and one in the back with a small yard and grilling area. This would be the scene of the family get together my aunt arranged in honor of my arrival. But before the party began, I needed to shower and change, since it was 80 degrees and sunny, and I had not dressed for such weather. My cousin, April, played tour guide for a couple hours, taking my parents and me down to Manly Beach and showing us the stores and restaurants along the beach front, where we bought our first souvenir. There was no shortage of activity on the beach, as the Aussie's enjoyed their Sunday afternoon surfing, sunning, and swimming. Not too shabby.

Manly Beach

After another quick outfit change, we were ready for the barbecue. But knowing my dad's family, no one actually showed up on time...perpetually 30 minutes late. When all the cousins started showing up, the first thing out of most of their mouths was, "you probably don't remember me..." It had been over ten years since my last visit, but I knew most of them, though names and faces were a little fuzzy. As incredible as it is to have family all over the world, it is sad going years without seeing them. How is it that I let this much time pass between visits? Oh yeah, life, school, work, money...it all got in the way. Still, I was not about to dwell on that, I wanted to soak up every moment I had with them. I spent the afternoon catching up with all my dad's cousins and then all their kids, who are around the same age as I am. And, of course, we enjoyed some delicious food prepared by my Uncle Martin, who cooked up a chipotle and goat cheese sausage that I could not eat fast enough. After most of the family left, the younger cousins and I went out around Manly to continue the party at a couple bars. Despite my desire to stay out and show them that I could last, the jetlag was setting in hard core, and I had to turn in around 9:30...not too bad, if you ask me.

Palm Beach

The next morning, my aunt, cousin, parents and I headed up to Palm Beach, where we hiked up to the lighthouse and took in the incredible views of the ocean and Whale Beach. It was there that my dad spotted the paddle boards, and we decided today was the day we were going to try it, after grabbing a quick bite of course, since we were all starving. We ate lunch at this adorable restaurant nestled right on the water's edge, complete with wonderful views from the dock, eclectic decorations emulating local nature, and, of course, delicious, fresh food.


Once we had fully digested our meals, we headed over to the rental office and got our paddle boards. At first, we thought we would stay relatively close to the shore, but before I knew it, my aunt spotted a secluded beach across the bay and we headed straight for it. It did not look that far at first...but we were clearly deceived by our blind ambition to take on the challenge. It was difficult at first to get into a rythm, at least for me, and the task was made even more difficult when I spotted a massive jellyfish just ahead of me. I was sure I was going to hit it with my paddle--or lose my balance and fall right on top of it--but luckily I passed it without any problems. But before my heart could stop pounding, I spotted three more, and then a whole cluster of them seemed to rise to the surface of the water out of nowhere. It was all I could do not to scream and turn around right then and there. What if I fell in? What if I got stung? I'll be the first to admit, jellyfish are not the scariest thing I could have encountered, far from it, in fact. But for me, it was terrifying, at least momentarily.

The terror was short-lived, as the colony appeared to be concentrated to one location in the water, and the rest of the course was jellyfish clear. The next challenge became the increasing intensity of the waves. For the most part, they were pretty calm, but every once and a while, a large swell would tip the side or back of the board, and every muscle in my body would activate to keep me standing. I am sure I've never focused so hard on engaging my muscles, and, as someone who works out regularly, that seems odd. But this was completely different than what I was used to, and it felt great to test myself in a new way. My efforts--and pain--were finally rewarded, however, when we reached the practically untouched beach and enjoyed a nice swim to cool ourselves off.

I have to say I was on a personal high, and my confidence was soaring. Even though the winds were against us at first, I found a great rythm on the return trip, powering myself forward with unknown force. Going back was not nearly as intimidating, and seemed to go by much quicker, but perhaps that was because we were all seasoned paddle boarders now. Even though my arms and legs burned as we stepped off the boards and headed back to the car, I felt invigorated and achieved.

That evening, I went to watch my cousin Jessie play basketball; a nostalgic moment in that it reminded me of my middle school days and competing for my team. Part of me wanted to jump out of my seat and join the game, but obviously that would not have been allowed. Cheering for my thirteen-year-old cousin, whom I had last seen as a baby in a high chair, felt strangely normal, even though I barely knew her. It was nice being able to support her for just that moment, since it is probably something I will not get the chance to do again. I was even more pleased when she seemed genuinely happy that we had come to watch--though most teens love that kind of attention, knowing pretty much everyone in the crowd is cheering for them.

I had dinner that evening with my parents and my Aunt Lizzi and Uncle James. We had a nice spread of pork, cheesy potatoes, green beans and baked apples, and of course, lots of crisp, satisfying white wine. The conversation flowed steadily from topic to topic, reminding me that, when it comes to family, it's easy to pick up right where you left off, as if not a day has passed--even though it's been years.

My Australia trip had to take a slight hiatus as my parents and I ventured to New Zealand for a week--which is a whole other story. When we returned, we were welcomed back with a lovely dinner at my Aunt Kathy's and Uncle Martin's, where my second cousin Jono joined us, as he was in town from Melbourne. The evening was enjoyable, fun and comfortable, as usual.

My last day in Sydney, my cousin April and I woke up early and went for a lovely run on the beach, completed with five sets of stairs on the way back to the house--all totally barefoot. That was very foreign to me, as I am accustomed to the comfort of my running shoes, and solid cement surfaces. My legs burned as my feet sunk into the soft sand, but it was a welcome pain, as I had not really physically challenged myself since paddle boarding.

Shelly Beach

After the run, my dad and I went for a bike ride over to Shelly Beach, where we laid out on the sand and went snorkeling. It was relaxing and gave me a chance to get a little color, and check out some of the local marine wildlife. Afterwards, my parents and I caught the ferry over to downtown Sydney, a must-do experience for anyone who wants a good shot of the Harbor Bridge and Opera House. I took the typical postcard-like shots as the boat made its way into the docking station, and then we headed over to one of the waterfront restaurants for a bite to eat. We shopped around a quaint area called The Rocks, which has a number of galleries and boutique shops to browse. I bought myself some Aboriginal artwork, and a boomerang--or three.

After an afternoon in the city, we caught the ferry back to Manly, where we headed straight over to my cousin Joe's basketball game. Yes, another one. Joe is Jessie's younger brother, so this was my first time meeting him, as he was not born yet when I last visited. He is a natural athlete; very competitive and absolutely loves sports. He could talk about rugby and basketball all day if you let him. When the game ended, we headed back to the house to change for my last dinner in Sydney. We went out to a nice restaurant along Manly Beach, known for its steaks. Not being much a steak fan, I opted for a version of Chicken Tikka. My cousin Joe went for the seafood platter, and nearly finished the entire thing all by himself. I've never seen anyone who loves seafood as much as that kid.

After dinner, we met up with the other cousins at one of the local bars to finish the night with celebratory/farewell drinks. It was nice to be able to see them all one last time, and have a memorable time with my family. The whole night, though, I did my best to persuade them to make a trip to the U.S. so I could show them around Chicago, give them a taste of my life.Because I feel like the foreigner to them, and it would be nice to give them a glimpse of what it is like here. Most of them have been to America, but not for a long time, and not to Chicago. I think it is about time.

Sunrise over Manly

I woke up the next morning, and took one last run on the beach, my personal goodbye to Sydney. My parents and aunt and uncle headed off to Perth early to see my dad's cousin Marisa who lives in Western Australia. My flight was a little delayed, so I was able to spend some extra time with my Uncle James, who came by to keep me company and help kill some time before my cousins Jono and Andrew picked me up to go to the airport.

As I sat in the car, listening to them fume over the state of the Australian government, I felt a wave of sadness come over me. I was leaving just as I was getting closer to my family, really feeling like I was a part of things. It is a blessing to have family all over the world, I realize that, but also an affliction. Even though I am related to them, they are blood relatives, there are times where I feel like a complete stranger to them. Social media and technology has helped boost communication between all of us, keeping us connected across oceans, and I am grateful for that. But face time is incredibly important to maintain strong family ties, and my cousins understand that, which is why they travel so much and try to see family as often as possible. But, being an American, our culture does not exactly encourage that kind of lifestyle, so two weeks is the most I can dedicate to them.

Manly

I hope one day I can spend more time with them, either on a future trip to Australia or when they come to visit me. No matter what, I am so thankful that I have such a big family, and that they live in an incredible place like Sydney...and are always willing to let me crash for no cost!

Flying Solo for Christmas

Credit: festivaladvices.com

The holiday season is in full swing! We are less than a week away from Christmas, and everyone is hustling to finish off all their last minute shopping, trying to find that perfect gift for everyone on their list. I picked up the final gift for my mom today during my lunch break, and I am proud to say that I have officially finished all my shopping. Others are not so lucky. I have a lot of friends still scrambling to get it all together before Sunday, and many are coming to me asking for ideas or suggestions for parents, syblings and significant others. I cannot give much insight anymore on the last one, so I usually suggest jewelry or a watch, or maybe a picture frame with a sentimental photo.

It can be difficult to be alone during the holidays, especially when everyone else seems to be settled comfortably in serious relationships. But instead of getting down about it, I've decided to look at the brighter side of flying solo this Christmas.

One big positive is that I can use the money I would have spent on a gift for him to buy more things for my family and friends. Or better yet, a gift for myself. Thisyear, I used the extra cash to buy a couple small items for my parents in addition to their larger gifts, and two housewarming gifts for my friends. As for me, there might be a couple new pairs of errings in my jewelry box, as well as a couple cute holiday tops for special occassions. And why not? I deserve a treat, too! If you think about it, I'm just following along with the majority of Americans this year who have decided to go the route of self-gifting.

Also, there is no need to feel pressure about getting his family something for Christmas. I would say that's definitely something most single people can agree on.

Being single around the holidays means I can pick and choose the various activities I want to partake in--holiday parties, shopping adventures with girlfriends, zoo lights, Christmas festivals and craft shows--without worrying about catering to what he wants to do. It gives me the chance to branch out and meet new people, experience different things and discover more about myself.

I already have my plans for Christmas in order, but if I didn't, I would most likely take a trip to some exotic location. And since I don't have to worry about what anyone else wants, it can be to a place that I really want to go. While many of you might think it is depressing to travel alone at Christmas, there is also something very empowering and liberating about it. Solo travel--as I have talked about before in this blog--is definitely something that everyone should do at least once in their lives. It gives you the ability to handle a trip all on your own (courage and independence, anyone?) and the freedom to explore all the places and do all the things that you want to do. The experience around the holidays is even more rewarding, because you are going against the grain. And even though you may be choosing to spend time alone, who is to say that your will actually end up by yourself. You never know who you'll meet! And travel tends to bring people together in mysterious ways.

Another positive thing to note about the holidays is that you're never actually alone. Christmas is a time when people get to spend time with their families, the people they care about the most in the world. I am one of those lucky people that get to go home and see my family and friends. I will be surrounded by the people I love and who love me, so there is no way I could possibly feel sad!



P.S. Who knows who will be waiting for your under the mistletoe this year!

Home for the Holidays

In a little over 48 hours from now, I will be sitting in an airport terminal waiting to board a plane home to Denver. This will be my first Thanksgiving with my family in three years, and, needless to say, I am ecstatic!!

Don't get me wrong, I have enjoyed my last few Thanksgivings here in Chicago, but there is just something about being home for the holidays. It was difficult the first year that I decided not to go back to Denver, but I accepted that I would probably have holidays away from my family in the future, so it was a good way to prepare. I knew I would encounter different traditions, mannerisms, activities and even food, since everyone has their own versions of Thanksgiving dishes. Some of the food I liked more than others (not a fan of the jello molds, but the raisin-filled stuffing and pumpkin pie cheesecake certainly were tasty) and I have never been one to take part in Black Friday shopping until I met my old boyfriend's family. It was all an eye opening experience, but that has come to an end. Now, it is time to venture back, because there really is no place like home. (I know, but Dorothy totally knew what she was talking about.)

I cannot wait to do all the things I love to do with my family on Thanksgiving--bake fresh bread from scratch, watch/play football all day, help prepare all the food (though I usally focus on the cranberries and potatoes), chat for hours at the table after dinner and then sleep off our food comas late into Friday morning (no Black Friday shopping for us). Just the thought of getting to spend this time with my family is making me feel incredibly nostalgic and slightly emotional--though I must keep it together, seeing as I am at work.

This year, I will be changing things up slightly by doing a four-mile Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning with my friends. Though I have never done it before, I believe it will be a good tradition to adopt, since it means I can eat even more at dinner. Another event I am looking forward to is my best friend's 25th birthday, which is Friday. It's also her golden birthday, so we're getting decked out in our finest glittery, gold outfits and hitting the town.

Who knows what the rest of the weekend will hold, but I am sure I'll love every second of it.

I totally enourage people to see the world and experience other cultures, especially their holiday traditions, but there is something about going home. It will be a truly special time for my family, mostly because it will be the first time in three years that we are all together. And that means a lot, particularly for my grandpa, who has been struggling with his health this year. In all honesty, I think I am most excited to see him. Because if this past year has taught me anything, it's that family is the most important thing in your life. They are there for you no matter what, your constant support system. And since I'm so far away from mine, these are the moments I really cherish.

Time to Celebrate Moms

After 9 months of morning sickness, swollen fingers, and bizarre food cravings, followed by 42 hours of labor without the assistance of drugs, your mom gave one final push to get you the hell out of her. She gave you life. And how did you repay her? By keeping her awake through the night with your incessant crying, making her change diaper after diaper, forcing her to chase you around the mall during your terrible-twos phase, begging her to buy you twenty new outfits for your first day of middle school, screaming at her over school and friends, resenting her for giving you an early curfew or forbidding you to get a tattoo, and leaving her behind as you jetted off to college. Ok, that's a little dramatic. But the truth is, our moms have been there for us through it all, and no matter how we treat them, they still love us unconditionally. And if you weren't already aware of it, Mother's Day is this Sunday, May 9. So what will you do to show your mom how much you appreciate everything she did for you?

How about a vacation? Now, I don't celebrate Mother's Day because my mom doesn't believe in it. But if she did, I think of all the gifts I could get her, she would enjoy a trip more than anything. So I went searching for some Mother's Day travel deals, and I found some pretty good ideas.

For mothers with smaller children, a fun vacation to Disney World will fit the bill. Right now the Flower and Garden Festival is going on, with fresh buds blooming every day. Not only that, but a Mother's Day Brunch is being offered at Epcot in the Living Seas Salon. It's kid friendly and mother approved--wow, how cheesy was that? For another fun vacation idea, Mohonk Mountain House 90 miles north of NYC. The Victorian-style castle sits lakeside, with thousands of acres for guests to enjoy. Moms stay free in the month of May, including 3 meals, activities, and afternoon tea and cookies.

On her special day, mom deserves a little R & R. And what mother doesn't love a trip to the spa? Mexico is the perfect place to get in some serious spa time. Casa Velas in Puerto Vallarta offers a luxury spa package that includes sparkling wine and chocolate-covered strawberries, a 50-minute massage, and a 4-course dinner on the beach. The Fairmont Mayakoba in Riviera Maya has the Mayan Majesty Spa Package, which includes a daily breakfast buffet, $119 spa credit, and one complimentary visit to the spa for one day. To celebrate the mother-to-be in your life--and a lot of my friends are gonna be at this point soon--why not give her the "babymoon" package from Westin Resort & Spas in Los Cabos. The package includes chocolate-covered strawberries, sparkling cider, daily breakfast in bed, and in-room movie and dessert delivered every night. What a way to prepare her for the rest of her life as a mom.

There is a sacred bond between mother and daughter, so why not celebrate that with a mother/daughter trip. the Ixtapan Spa Hotel & Golf Resort has the mother/daughter spa classic package, including all meals, organic spa treatments, fitness and yoga classes, golf and tennis lessons, and early morning guided walking tours. This is a trip I would definitely book for my mom, except she isn't the biggest fan of Mexico. So better opt for some retail therapy. Head to NYC for a mother/daughter shopping trip. But instead of having her buy everything for you, spoil her by taking her to dinner at a nice restaurant, or buying her that gorgeous outfit she would never buy for herself. (Of course this is only do-able if you have the means, which hopefully someday I will.) 

These are just some ideas, but try looking into airline deals and travel websites for special Mother's Day offers. I'm sure you'll find something that suites your mother perfectly. After all, you do owe her one.

A Home Away From Home...Sort Of

Let me tell you a story--I promise it won't be long--about a place I used to go when I was younger. Just to provide a little background for you, my family is big into tennis. We all play, my parents, my brother, and I. When spring vacation hit--that's right "vacation", not "break" seeing as that implies drunken partying on the beach in Cabo--my family would head to the warm, crisp, salty air of Hilton Head, South Carolina. For one glorious week, we would stay at hotels located minutes from the beach and play tennis at the Van Der Meer Tennis Academy. My brother and I would participate in the junior camps, while our parents enjoyed the adult clinics. And we always made sure we visited during the Family Circle Tennis Tournament, which Van Der Meer hosted, because we were able to sit in the club box with a perfect view of the matches. (Free food and drinks were also a plus.) Needless to say, those vacations were some of the best I had as a child. And lately I have been craving a return to my childhood oasis, if even just for a weekend.

Besides the tennis, which was always enjoyable, there is so much more to experience in Hilton Head. If your an outdoorsey type, there are plenty of nature preserves to hike and bike through, as well as horseback riding and dolphin tours. The island provides an elite golf course, sailing excursions, kayaking rentals and numerous fishing areas. If you prefer a more relaxed vacation, the shopping around the island is ideal for cute boutiques and fashionable shops. With more than 200 stores, you're sure to find what you're looking for. Among the twisting streets and paths are upwards of 250 restuarants where you can sample the local cuisine--or any other cuisine for that matter. Be sure to visit the famous Salty Dog Cafe. If none of this tickles your fancy, there are always daily events going on around the island, from art shows to wine tastings, from concerts to museum tours, there is sure to be something everyone will like.

And if the attractions don't pull you in, then these shots certainly will...

At least I think it's gorgeous!

Just a Quick Thought...

...First, I'm sorry the entries have been lacking. I just finished the fall quarter last week, and now I have all this time on my hands and somehow I do not know how to handle it. I promise more posts to come.

...Second, IT'S DECEMBER!!! Christmas season is in full swing!! The Christmas lights and trees are going up all over the city!! The snow is falling--and for all the Chicagoans, it just started today!!

And with this holiday season comes the office blues. No one wants to be sitting in an office when the fectivities are taking place. Plus, the weather can be dreary, except when the snow is falling and settling nicely on the ground--and causing no traffic problems whatsoever in a perfect world. So to ease those times when you're feeling a little blue about sitting at a desk all day, find ways to celebrate the season while working.

1. Throw a holiday party at work-it doesn't have to be big and extravagent. Take a lunch hour, bring in Christmas cookies and some delicious casseroles--or sandwiches work, too--and have some sparkling cider. People will appreciate the break from the grind.
2. Find a Christmas Market: Plenty of cities have small markets selling crafts, gifts, and food. Chicago has the Christkindlemart in Daley Plaza. It's German, but anyone can go and enjoy the hot wine served in little boots, beer, brats, strudels, pretzels, and numerous vendors with delicate creations from all corners of Germany and beyond. What a way to experience the holiday and another culture all at once.
3. Take a trip!--Sure it's the holidays, and you should spend it with your family at home with a Christmas tree and presents. But why not jet off somewhere to go skiing? How about lazing on the beach? Or enjoying a nice mountain cabin? There are a lot of winter deals out there, so check them out and book a spontaneous vacation. That will certainly lift your spirits.

Personally, I'm looking forward to heading back to Colorado for two weeks to snowboard, lounge around the mountains, and spend time with my family and friends. It doesn't get much better than that.

Shipping up to Boston

This past week/weekend, I went to Boston, Massachusetts.

I had never been to beantown before, but I had expectations built up in my head. Historic buildings and architecture, classy neighborhoods, cold weather, good food, and, um, cultured people. And to my delight and dismay, most of those assumptions were correct.
On my first night in Boston, I was greeted by my best friend from high school, Emily, and she helped me hop the T--still not sure why it's called that--to my parent's hotel, the Taj. After dropping off my luggage, we headed out to meet everyone at a local seafood restaurant, Legal Seafood. My brother, his friends, and my parents were all a couple drinks in and still waiting for their food, so we joined the festivities. A couple samples from each person's dish, and I was convinced that Boston would have a promising food selection, and I would have to divulge in a full meal the next day. After dinner, Emily and I headed off with my brother and his entourage to a place called Foundation Lounge. Your pretty average loungy bar and hot night spot. We received bottle service--pretty classy right?--and relaxed on couches reserved for our group. After Emily left because she worked early the next morning, the bar continued to thrive with more and more people arriving. But what became clear was that this was not really my scene, and the people were not all that thrilled with our presence there either. My brother began dancing around tables and got a couple sharp glances from the local crowd. Apparently some behavior is just unacceptable in Boston.

After stumbling back to the hotel at 2 a.m.--so not my style on a Wednesday night--I crashed until about 9 a.m. or so. Once showered and a bottle of water in hand, my parents and I hit Newbury Street--the Michigan Avenue of Boston. Expensive clothing stores, cute boutiques, and fashionistas galore lined the street as we walked through the chilly fall air. Since it was almost noon when we finally started our day, we headed to a highly recommended restaurant on Newbury called Stephanie's. The warm setting, with a cozy fireplace and white linen table clothes, was welcoming for a group of tourists. After scanning the menu, which listed things from lobster salad rolls to citrus crusted salmon, I opted for an old classic which I have never had the opportunity to taste--New England Clam Chowder. Just a cup of this creamy mixture, and my entire body felt warm and satisfied. Definitely an item I will be eating again. The rest of the afternoon was spent scouring the shops for dresses--mostly for my mom--and I am happy to report that after four hours of searching, she finally found one she liked.

That night we all got dressed up for my brother's movie screening--the whole reason I went to Boston in the first place. Emily, her roommates, and I quickly dolled ourselves up in dresses and heels, while munching on cheese and crackers and sipping pinot grigio. Then we headed over to Cambridge--just across the river from Boston--to the theater where the movie was showing. We were greeted with free drinks and a spread of food. Once most guests had arrived, we moved into the theater, took our seats, and waited for the movie to begin. The Lonliest Road in America is the product of over a year of hard work and dedication from my brother, Colin Day, and his friend, Mardana Mayginnes (forgive the harmless plug). And it seems it was received with plenty of praise from the Boston crowd, and they aren't the easiest people to impress. The night ended with an after party at a local Irish pub with more drinks and food.

It's pretty clear I was well fed on this trip.

My last full day in Boston, I went sight seeing with my parents. We pretty much saw everything one should see while they're there: Trinity Church, Copley Square, Boston Common--to see the colors change,-- The Massachusetts State House, the Old State House, Faneuil Hall, and Quincy Market. At first, we had every intention of just making our way through Boston Common, and then we were not even sure what we would do next. But as it turns out, and this surprised me, Boston is not that big. Once we got through the Commons, there was the State House with its famous gold dome. Then we realized we were close to downtown, and it was an easy walk to the Old State House and Quincy Market. It was actually a very pleasant walk--minus the rain that seemed to follow us through the day. And while the city is not the easiest to navigate because the streets were not built on a grid system and there is no logical order to how they are set up, we were able to figure out--with help from street maps and my mom's GPS on her iphone--where we were and how to get to the next place. When we arrived at Quincy Market, we were starving. So we found a little cafe under the building called Salty Dog Grille and Cafe (sorry, couldn't find a website.) Now because of the location, it was pretty much known as a tourist spot. But we were hungry, it was raining, and we just needed some place to rest. We didn't want to wait for a table so we just sat at the bar, which turned out to be the best choice. It felt a lot more personal and comfortable, and the bartender was extremely friendly. My parents both got fish and chips and I opted for the crab cakes--another meal I was told I had to try while there. We each got a Sam Adams brew--them the Boston Lager, me the Oktoberfest--and they were very enjoyable.

After a long day of sightseeing, we headed back to the hotel, relaxed, showered and got ready to meet Emily for our last dinner in Boston. We went to a french restaurant that was recommended to us called Troquet. A quiant little place perfect for the theater crowd. A little fancier than I anticipated, but wonderful nontheless. My parents both ordered the lamb, Emily sampled the langoustines, and I nibbled on a rich pasta dish with mushrooms and truffle. If ever you're in Boston and you have a little extra money to spare, check this restaurant out, it is delicious.

Before my flight left on Saturday, there was still one more thing I had not done in Boston. I needed to go to the Omni Parker House and order a Boston Cream Pie--a round cake split and filled with custard and frosted with chocolate--the official desert of Massachusetts. The hotel apparently invented this sweet confection, though it is difficult to prove, so I figured why not go to the place where it all started. So after a large brunch with Emily and our friend Erik who came up to visit from New York, we headed over to the hotel. We ordered one piece to pie to share, and when it was placed on the table we all gazed in awe at its beauty. I almost didn't want to dig my fork into the perfect frosting...but I did! And heaven never tasted so good.

So maybe the people could have been nicer and the weather a little less dreary, but overall the trip to Boston was memorable. Add family, good friends, beautiful sights, strong drinks, and scrumptious food, and you've got yourself a darn good time in beantown.