NOW OPEN at 6981 N. Sheridan Road Chicago 773-654-1444. The Growling Rabbit - a café in Rogers Park offers a variety of hot foods, sandwiches, soups, salads, along with baked goods, BYOB and great coffee and tea!

This weekend I skipped over to The Growling Rabbit - a cafe less than 1/4 a mile from Loyola University, on Sheridan.  I judged the book by the cover (the 6-foot rabbit on the front window) and decided to give it a whirl.

The menu sounded tasty - a mix of breakfast, brunch, lunch, & dinner with a college-town vibe and a comfort-food influence.  I opted for a cheese and mushroom quiche with vegan slaw and a cup of black coffee with a granola scone.

Total price $12

In regards to taste I was fairly satisfied.  The vegan slaw was boring but I only had 1/8 of a cup to try.  3 bites later and I found myself wondering if I had imagined it, or if it was just so bland I forgot I had eaten it.  The quiche was delicious but, and I'm not sure what this says about me, I was disappointed with the portion size.  When you can get a slice of pizza big enough to use as a baseball glove for $2.95 and then you get a piece of quiche smaller than a piece of pie, you can't help but be a little sad clown.

BUT...

I will say this - granola scone with my coffee... A+.  Eric got a cinnamon roll that was as wide as a small dinner plate and so rich I asked it to start paying my rent.  Homemade baked goods will always win a place in this country girl's heart.

My biggest complaint would be the decor.  Lime-green walls with strange photos of rabbits kind of throw around.  I think I felt a disconnect between the food prices and the way the cafe looked unfinished.  Thankfully it was a beautiful day so we sat outside and escaped having to stare at those odd little bunnies for too long.

I think they're onto something and I can't give a definitive review until I have at least one more chocolate-chip cinnamon roll.  But for now I give The Growling Rabbit....

3 out of 5 carrots.

I'm appalled.

I do not want to have a straight marriage, but I would never tell you that you are going to hell because you want one.  I would also never speak for God and claim to know what He/She/It wants and/or thinks is morally permissible.

This is so saddening, it's it?

We can't get over ourselves.  Still, in 2012, we are fighting the same battle with different players;

"YOU need to be this and do this and be this way and not be the way that comes natural to you because that is what GOD wants!  It says it right here in the Bible - GOD wants it and GOD hates FAGS."

Really?  

...Really?

Fuck you.

I spent so much of my time being afraid of life.  I was afraid to be me and say what I wanted to say.  I was afraid to go to school because everyday I had to deal with being called a faggot and wondering how many times I would have to pretend not to hear it in a 24-hour period.

Do you know what it's like to be 13 years old and have to figure out alternative ways to get to class so you don't have to walk by certain people?  Kids are committing suicide in middle school for SOME reason.

Do you know what it feels like to fall in love with someone and then have everybody around you tell you that your love is disgusting and unholy and repulsive?

I just don't understand it.  Why the controversy?  Why do you STILL insist on telling us all that what we are doing is wrong?  Does it make sense that we would purposely put ourselves through all this controversy because we woke up and decided to be different - to be hated.

Do you REALLY think that we need to pray about being gay and ask God to take it away from us?  It's a lifestyle, it's a sexual preference... it's not cancer for fuck's sake.

I hate to burst your bubble, but I wouldn't change it for anything.

Since I moved to Chicago I have met some of the most amazing people.  Artists, actors, painters, cooks, friends, lovers, sports fanatics, booze hounds, execs, lemmings, and so on and so on...  I don't think they would pray for forgiveness either.

GodHatesFags.com?  I would like to think that 1-God doesn't hate, and 2-If God did hate, He/She/It would hate, hate.

I don't know...  It's all becoming extremely hurtful.  I don't LOVE the thought of having sex with someone who is morbidly obese but what kind of person what I be to post all over Facebook/Twitter/G+/Blogger/MySpace how disgusting and damnable a person is who does, is?  I mean seriously, someone PLEASE explain to me...

What. The. Fuck. Does. It. Matter?

Don't like gay-sex?  Don't have it.  Me marrying someone I love won't make you queer.  I promise.  I'm not going to have sex with my husband on the front lawn of your church.

I'm grateful to be in a place like Chicago because this place gets in your blood.  I never realized how much of my personality I had to hide living in Dayton, Ohio.  Again, it hurts my feelings knowing that there are places in the world where you really can be whoever and whatever it is you want to be and I suffocated myself and allowed the Southern Baptist agenda to beat me into the dirt over...and over...and over again.

Change takes time and this is going to be a long journey.  But for the sake of the gays in your family, and believe me, YOU have gays in your family and they're probably terrified to tell you because of all the negativity you spew, keep your fag-bashing off of social media.  It all started as a place for friends and look what we've done to ourselves.

My Neighborhood, or "hood" (as a lot of people here seem to say) is called Rogers Park - NOT to be confused with Roger's Park.  It's about 750miles from downtown Chicago.

Just kidding.  It's fairly far north though which has its ups and its downs.  On the good side I can always find a spot on the train because the majority of people don't get on until further south.  On the bad side, I am always one of the last people ON the train trying to get home.  That puts me in a shitty mood come 6:30pm when all I wanna do is peel off my sweaty clothes and sit naked in front of my AC.

Did I mention it's hot here?

Rogers Park is a community-driven area that is made up mostly of gays, african-americans, and latinos... so, naturally, when looking for an apt, Missy made sure she put me right in the mix.  Ironically, this is also where she has lived for the past 5-6 years.  Go figure.

The one thing you'll notice about Rogers Park when you come into it is that it is very green.  A lot of Chicago actually is.  That's why you hear people say "well, it's a CITY but it's still the MIDWEST... you know?"  Well, I didn't know, but I'm explaining it to you now so listen up.  There is no Meijer or Kroger.  Speedway does not exist here (gasp... I know.  I'm still dealing with it).  If you want groceries you go to Morse Market.  Wanna see a movie - Go to "The New 400" on Sheridan.  There are small theaters and a brunch spot, 2 gay bars, a new restaurant, coffee shops and a bookstore etc etc. They even do a local farmers market every Sunday during the summer to help boost small business and allow everyone to stick it to the man.

You know the man...  It's Walmart.

I appreciate the quaintness of Rogers Park but there IS a downside to being the way it is.  It's less expensive than areas closer to the city.  That = more riffraff.  Now I'm ok with a little "raff" but when it turns into "riffraff" I start to get a little nervous.

There's a homeless lady that screams at me and sings along with her radio that doesn't work.  She lives on the corner, she's always drunk, and has a homeless boyfriend she nags.  Money can't buy happiness so I guess... No money can't buy happiness either?  A=B, B=C, so A=pissed off, drunk, poor lady.  It's fine, I'm sure she'll freeze to death during the winter.

I'm kidding.  If she keeps drinking like she's doing she won't even make it that far.

I'M KIDDING!

....

Anyhoo, I argued with landlord and withheld my rent until they started doing repairs so I'm in the process of winning as we speak.  I DID take some photos of my apt as it stands right now.  It's not complete but I think after my last blog I should at least do it the justice of showing what I turned the mess into so far.

I still need some small things like a storage shelf, pub table, trash can, curtains.... fuck, do I have anything?  At least I have food in the refrigerator.  And, YES, for those of you who think you know me I mean solid food.  Christ.

More to come and lots to say.  Stay tuned friends.

The Chaos of Relocation

7-10-12

Moving - what a bitch.  

I have moved approximately 13 times (give or take a few) and it never gets easier.  And junk drawers... what the hell are you supposed to do with a drawer full of twist-ties and dried out flower seeds?  But imagine this if you will:

You're dying to get the fuck out of dodge because you've spent your entire life bouncing around Dayton, Ohio.  You're the type of person who can't fathom moving to a different city/state without having a full-time job ready and waiting for you.  So you sit around after college just waiting and waiting (and waiting).

Then you lost your license because you almost get a DUI and, because of all that extra free time, you concentrate on your studies and start a business.  8 months later a friend asks if you'd be interested in working for her wedding photographer in Chicago.  You say absolutely, visit a few days later, land the job a few weeks after that, and move 2 weeks after that.

Yea - that's what happened to me.

Yes, I shit my pants.

So I packed up everything I had as best as I could because I knew THIS time I could make 18 trips back and forth in this car and that car and Jason's car and Nikki's car, etc, etc, etc.

The Nightmare Ensues...

My landlord is a waste of space.  I can say that... because it's a fact, not an opinion.  I didn't get my keys until around 11pm the night before I was to move (we were leaving at 2am to get to my 8am move-in time).  We pull onto the highway to start our journey... cherries and berries.  The lights on the back of the Uhaul weren't working.

Again, I shit my pants.

So 30 minutes later we get them going and start back onto the highway.  I later found out that the lights came on just long enough to get away from the cop and then went out again.  What the hell ever, we made it.

So we get to Chicago and my road is closed for repairs to the train stop.  Super, we'll just drive around the block.  30 minutes of backing down one-ways and circling while looking for the alley, we find it... AAAAND we don't have a key to the back gate.

*Shit my pants and cry

Missy randomly knows a tenant at my building who DID have a key and let us through.  So after all this drama I FINALLY get into the building and up to my beautiful, new, APARTMENT!!!

Not quite.

Ricky Looses His Shit...

Here's what I find:

Broken Light/Fixture

Whatever is missing here...

Cracked Paint

Missing Screen

Missing Fixture

Broken Baseboard

Nonworking Microwave

Missing Drawer

Not to mention the place hasn't been cleaned, it hasn't been painted, the closet door was hanging off the closet into the entryway, the sink didn't drain... what else...

Oh, that's right.  You ever seen a cockroach?  I have.

To wrap everything up as tightly as possible, I lost my brains, threatened legal action, withheld my money, and now things are getting repaired.  BUT I will tell you this - people will always move at whatever pace they find comfortable.  I've learned a few lessons about moving during this experience.  Hopefully you all can avoid a fucking disaster like the one I found myself in.

1 - Never sign a lease until you know the repairs are COMPLETED in a unit.

2 - If you have an owner, leasing agent, condo complex, multiple owners, etc... have ALL the phone numbers prior to signing any document or agreeing to anything.

3 - Don't let up on anybody.  If you need something, call until you get it.  People don't like to call back but they like it even less when someone is persistent.

4 - It's a pretty good idea to see your place BEFORE you move into it ESPECIALLY if you are not getting to see the exact unit into which you are about to move.

5 - Don't talk to your weird neighbors, even if you're trying to be nice.  Weirdos are weirdos and you don't want them trying to come over for dinner or asking for cup of ... whatever it is they cook with.

6 - If you're moving to the city, get an iPhone.  It's the only guaranteed way to ignore the homeless.

7 - Ignore the homeless.

8 - Know that sometimes people pee in places you would like to stand or sit.  Try not to do that.  If it looks sticky and smells like regret, yup - that's homeless pee.

9 - If your landlord's name is Eloisa Henthorn, quickly run away.  Far away.

10 - Put your name on your mailbox.  The post office will not deliver to an unmarked box.



Whew.


Good things next but I wanted to give an accurate description of what it was like for me to move from Ohio to Chicago.  That's a wrap.

Stay UNcomfortable

(3.7.12)

This morning I received an email that was forwarded in error.  A member of upper management was replaced and accidentally copied a lot more people on her message than she meant to.  She has worked for the company for over 10 years.

It's hard, we all know that.  Money is tight and it seems like everybody is stroking out.  An Associate’s is the new GED, a Bachelor's; the new HS Diploma.  Deferment, foreclosure, bankruptcy, reverse mortgages... These are probably words on middle-school spelling tests now.

The lady who cleaned our building recently lost her job as well.  She is very sweet and accidentally told us how much money she made before she left.  Her company was outbid by another company who, and I mean to be entirely honest here, must be paying their staff $7/hour.

We are facing a time where "over-qualified" is a true reality.  Think about what that actually means - you are literally TOO good at what you do.  You are so good, in fact, that the company would rather higher someone with less education and experience because, financially, a green candidate is chomping at the bit to make 30k and work up that ladder for the next 20 years.

Spring is here which brings with it an integral facet of rebirth.  I’m not sure who all reads what I write or if anybody that does has been affected by the decline in the job market.  Today I feel thankful for my job.  Ideally I’d love to jet set from coast-to-coast and sip rum from coconuts and photograph poison dart frogs but my reality just hasn’t caught up with my dream world yet.  I don’t know if it ever can (or should for that matter).

While thankful, I’m not complacent and I can’t condone attributing a lack of self-growth to a stifled economy, but I do acknowledge the fact that this is a prime opportunity for all of us to become something bigger.  If you lost your job as an Executive VP of Sales at Meade and always wanted to design handbags, well work at Hobby Lobby and study online.  If you had a kid at 16 and have been stuck at Big Lots since ’96, here’s your window.

Read a book, look at a magazine, smell the air, feel the sun.  You might not be where you dream of being right now but you could very well end up somewhere you dread… tomorrow.

The cliché is “Nothing “good” lasts forever,” but offers no explanation of what happens after that.  Maybe “good” gives way to “great” and “great” flows into “amazing”.  We’re given an opportunity to sparkle… and if I’ve learned ANYTHING from Mariah Carey, it’s that even if we don’t always want to accept it, Glitter always catches everybody’s eye.

Whether they accept it, or not.

This morning I received an email that was forwarded in error.  A member of upper management was replaced and accidentally copied a lot more people on her message than she meant to.  She has worked for the company for over 10 years.

It's hard, we all know that.  Money is tight and it seems like everybody is stroking out.  An Associate’s is the new GED, a Bachelor's; the new HS Diploma.  Deferment, foreclosure, bankruptcy, reverse mortgages... These are probably words on middle-school spelling tests now. 

The lady who cleaned our building recently lost her job as well.  She is very sweet and accidentally told us how much money she made before she left.  Her company was outbid by another company who, and I mean to be entirely honest here, must be paying their staff $7/hour. 

We are facing a time where "over-qualified" is a true reality.  Think about what that actually means - you are literally TOO good at what you do.  You are so good, in fact, that the company would rather higher someone with less education and experience because, financially, a green candidate is chomping at the bit to make 30k and work up that ladder for the next 20 years.

Spring is here which brings with it an integral facet of rebirth.  I’m not sure who all reads what I write or if anybody that does has been affected by the decline in the job market.  Today I feel thankful for my job.  Ideally I’d love to jet set from coast-to-coast and sip rum from coconuts and photograph poison dart frogs but my reality just hasn’t caught up with my dream world yet.  I don’t know if it ever can (or should for that matter).

While thankful, I’m not complacent and I can’t condone attributing a lack of self-growth to a stifled economy, but I do acknowledge the fact that this is a prime opportunity for all of us to become something bigger.  If you lost your job as an Executive VP of Sales at Meade and always wanted to design handbags, well work at Hobby Lobby and study online.  If you had a kid at 16 and have been stuck at Big Lots since ’96, here’s your window.

Read a book, look at a magazine, smell the air, feel the sun.  You might not be where you dream of being right now but you could very well end up somewhere you dread… tomorrow.

The cliché is “Nothing “good” lasts forever,” but offers no explanation of what happens after that.  Maybe “good” gives way to “great” and “great” flows into “amazing”.  We’re given an opportunity to sparkle… and if I’ve learned ANYTHING from Mariah Carey, it’s that even if we don’t always want to accept it, Glitter always catches everybody’s eye. 

Whether they accept it, or not.