yummy saturday

MmmmmmmSaturday. Today, I'm savoring my one day off a week and simultaneously celebrating the advent of spring. Yes, it's a paltry 35 degrees in Chicago today, but the sun is shining, and it's March 1st which means I have survived the two most depressing months of the year. I went outside in only my Gap puffer vest with the fur hood (well, I was wearing a long sleeve tee and jeans too) and was rocking my newly repaired Ralph Lauren sunglasses. Although I've given up manicures and pedicures, I decided to treat myself to a pedicure today. It was a rough week (more about that in a sec), and I really needed to do something nice for myself. I chose a very springy color from the new OPI Indian collection:

My new mantra: pedicures are not a necessary monthly maintenance treatment (I can clip my toenails myself), but rather a rare treat for when I'm feeling a bit low. And you know what? I enjoyed it a lot more today knowing that it was a treat and not going to happen again for awhile.

I am continuously thrilled that I can get whatever I need by walking around the corner from my apartment. Drop off the dry cleaning, fix the sunglasses, mail a letter, grab a Starbucks, get a pedicure, browse an antique store or a bookstore, get some sushi or a Swedish pastry...Andersonville is the best. It's days like today that I never want to leave the city. But talk to me on laundry day or when I can't find a parking spot and that's another story...

Back to the not-so-stellar week. I had a couple of twelve hour days this week, and while I'm doing things I love, a twelve hour day is bound to get to anybody. Then on Wednesday night I had an altercation with a parent of one of my students. It was more of an annoyance than anything major, but it made me so angry that I spent all Wednesday night stewing about it and had the first insomniac night I've had in a long time. I didn't have any Ambien, so I took two Nyquil, and when that failed to produce sleep I took a Vicodin. At this point it was 6:00 am and Nick had just left for work, and I was hoping to sleep for at least three hours in preparation for the twelve hour day ahead of me. Suddenly, I became convinced that I was going to die a la Heath Ledger. Now, I doubt that one Vicodin and two Nyquil taken five hours apart from each other has ever killed anybody. But I called Nick in a panic, and he convinced me that no, I wasn't going to die, and I should just go to sleep. The man is a dentist, so obviously he knows.

Anyway, long rambly story getting even longer, yesterday I missed the train to Palatine thanks to idiot Chicago buses and cabbies. I knew it was going to happen at some point. Since Nick and I have been down to one car for the past two months (his car will FINALLY be fixed on Monday, hooray!), I have been taking the train to my teaching job in the suburbs on Fridays. The train station in Palatine is a block away from the place where I teach, so that part of it is really convenient, but it takes two buses to reach the station where I pick up the train. Several times I've had to get off the bus and get into a cab in order to get to the station in time, but lately I've had it down to a science and haven't had any problems. Until yesterday. Things were going fine until I got on bus number 2. Usually, the Chicago bus drivers drive like completely crazed, coked up lunatics, but somehow, I had gotten on the slowest bus in the city. I quickly got off the bus and hailed a cab, whereby I came in contact with the stupidest cab driver in the city. When I finally got him to understand where I wanted him to take me, it was too late. I had missed the train that would get me there on time to teach. The next train wasn't for an hour. I was screwed. And of course, the people at this particular place where I teach act like the world is ending, even though there are usually plenty of people working the floor (it's a music store) or the desk who are perfectly qualified to step in until I can get there. I'm teaching piano to six-year-olds, not curing cancer here, people. So by Friday evening, I was ready for a big fat drink. Luckily, my colleague Jessica, with whom I ride the train home on Fridays, brought me a giant Newcastle to enjoy on the ride home. Yes, you can drink legally on the suburban commuter trains here. It's brilliant.

Now I am relaxing and watching the E! True Hollywood story of Renee Zelwegger. Ah, craptastic, meaningless television. Nick is at a watch collectors gathering, but I'm going to go pick him up around 7:30 and I think we're going to go bowling. I don't know why, I just got the urge to bowl today. Hope you are all having a fantastic weekend!