Six Months and Counting!

It's nearing six months since I ditched the Husker gear and moved to the Windy City. Granted, those six months seem like a Game of Thrones-y "Winter is Coming," type thing. Everyone has heard about Chiberia, the highway sink holes, fifty below zero weather, and frozen eyelashes at the Belmont redline station. It often seems like just yesterday that the hot sun was tanning my skin at the lake, my bloody mary was waiting on the golf cart at the Valley, or I was cruising down the country road to Cherry's house blasting Eric Church. In what is simply six months, I'm learning a lot of lessons. Many of which I am finding unexpected, hard to take in but, as with all other things in life, better now than ever. 

1: Don't count on everyone that you once did
You're probably thinking, "well, duh," and I thought the same thing. It seems obvious, the distance will make everything harder. I wish that I could attribute the rifts built in my support system to distance. Interestingly, those that I used to turn to first have now slipped down the mental list of emergency contacts. The only way I look at this is a positive: as V has always and continues to tell me, "there are the friends that put air in your tires, and the ones that put holes in them, so which do you want?" It's a tough lesson, learning who is a cheerleader and who would rather see failure, but it is necessary. My friends are amazing, though few, but I will take that any day over a bunch of fake people that secretly spread my misfortunes around my hometown with a smile on their face. But, as V also says, "quit wasting your time on those fuckwads!" And again, that bitch is right.

2: Home isn't always home
Last Sunday marked the six month anniversary of my Chicago residency. This exciting date came and passed without so much of a blink until I realized it this afternoon, April 6th, while writing the date on a piece of paper. If someone asks where I'm from, usually in regards to the accent I apparently have, of course I tell them I'm from Nebraska. That said, Chicago is my home. It's rare that, aside from missing brunch with my oldest and closest friend or snuggling on the sofa with my pup, I feel homesick. When I do get a little bummed, I just have to remember exactly why I left and what I'm hoping to get out of living here. Nonetheless, Nebraska doesn't feel like home anymore, it never did. If anything, I felt homesick every day I spent there, the only thing that got me through it were the amazing people I surrounded myself with. 

3: Most importantly, manage your expectations
Oh my god. I'll say it again: manage expectations. I used to dread when I would hear this, as my ex would say it all the time. It honestly made me depressed. But, I now realize the importance of this, thanks to my brunch babe. If I adjust my expectations of said person, it ends up saving me a lot of pain and disappointment. Just typing that sentence shakes me and whatever moral standing that I have within my Grinch-sized heart. I hope that those close to me don't tweak their expectations to avoid disappointment with me but apparently, it's life. Sigh.  

4: Keep in touch with those that matter
Similar feelings to numbers one and two, but gone are the initial pangs of heartache while missing the windows down in my new car on "O" Street, seeing familiar faces at every bar and in the grocery store, and not having to worry about public transportation. Of course the gay bar with my queens, sitting on our Starbucks bench with Cherry, and the firepit with T&V cross my mind almost daily. Those friends are never more than a snapchat, phone call, or Mean Girls meme away, which makes me a very lucky girl. Though I may not see them every day, or even at all since I've moved, but they're the ones putting air in my tires every day and the first ones I think of whenever something good happens.

5: Take this time to fall in love with yourself
Boom. This is why I quit my job(s), packed up my shoes and moved here. Well, that and I couldn't bear to be away from my roomie. I felt suffocated in Nebraska. I was stuck while trying to decide where my career was headed, dating the same douchebag over and over, dealing with the same dumbass drama from people that barely know me, and frequenting the same terrible bars. Caged, whether I put myself into that cage is to be determined (answer: yes), but that's not a good feeling. I never believed that I was completely at ease. There was always some loser waiting to stir up some rumors, an insecure and humiliating boss trying to ruin your days, an ex still trying to get back together/ruin my life/both. It's not easy to be yourself while every move is under a microscope. I can be myself here. I don't know anyone, I have no one to impress, and even if I did, the last six months alone have taught me that it's not worth jumping through hoops for people that don't matter. Phew. 

I don't think any of these are groundbreaking, and for that I apologize. I can offer a few other pieces of advice: 
-sleep with the blinds open sometimes, waking up to the sun peeking over the lake is next to nothing
-get to Ann Sather before 10AM on Sunday, bring a bottle of champagne and enjoy mimosas with your cinnamon rolls and friendly homo
-don't take the train after a certain hour because you can't UNsee what happens at Grand and State at 5AM on a Friday (dirt angels on the platform, trash digging, and lots of drugs is the answer)
-fresh flowers. That's it. Keep them in the apartment, it's nice to have something alive when everything is covered in ice and snow (below)
-give up your seat on the train or bus, you never know who needs it more than you and what karma will come of it. Unless you're wearing stilettos because I always look like an ass when the driver slams on the breaks FYI
-Find a guilty pleasure and allow yourself to enjoy it, no matter what. I need my trenta iced green tea every day because it makes me think of T&V, feel refreshed and happy. Just as long as it's not blow or hookers, you'll probably be fine.