winter

DIY bar cart transformation

I’ve never had much luck finding treasures in the trash, but the other night as I was getting home I found what looked to be a bar cart in perfect condition! I couldn’t believe it so I immediately hauled it upstairs and got to cleaning. I did some major disinfecting with some Clorox -because people are gross. Now, this baby looks brand spankin new!

After a little research, I found out the cart is actually a “utility cart” from Ikea that retails for $30 which is a great deal, but I got it FO FREE!

I wanted to spruce up the cart and what better way than a little gold spray paint?!  After protecting the white areas with newspaper (the most tedious part of the project), I got to spraying. This was actually my first time ever using a spray can. My only advice other than make sure you do it outside (obvi.), is to make sure you do it in the daylight (not so obvious.) so that you don’t miss any spots. Since the sun sets so early these days and I’m majorly impatient, I sprayed in the dark like a freak. This was followed by several touch ups, but the end result looks great!

I had been wanting a bar cart for months, but couldn’t justify spending more than $100 on just the cart itself without even adding on the dollars to stock it – cause I mean, that’s they whole point right?

Check out the final product below! I’m still working on adding a few more bottles, but this should hold me over for these frigid nights ahead! 😉

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xo

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go home winter, you’re drunk.

As mentioned in my previous post, I have a deep disgust for snow. Sunday night however, the universe decided it would only be appropriate if on the anniversary of my first year in Chicago, I would slip on a big pile of ice and fall down the stairs.

Let me break this down for you, black ice is a sneaky mother f-er. It’s as if Satan just Alex Mack’d himself and turned into an invisible pile of hardened water so that he could have a front-row seat at your painful and humiliating death. It’s THE WORST.

Since moving here, I’ve witnessed a number of people slip and fall on ice and I’ve always dreaded being one of them. I may have laughed uncontrollably at them when it happened, but that was only a natural instinct, I truly felt bad for them. For this reason, I always take tiny steps when near snow or ice or puddles or whatever. I may look like a total freak, but it beats falling on your ass. This, I now know first hand.

The other night, as I was getting home from my weekend job (a topic for another day), I saw my life flash before my eyes as I slipped and fell down these demon stairs:

I slipped on ice at the top right after I pushed open the gate & fell all the way down onto that even bigger pile of ice at the bottom 😦

I’m now literally afraid to go in or out through the back of my apartment until winter is over and done with. I’m completely traumatized. The back of my apartment is a freaking ice rink & I am NOT a fan of skating. Check it out for yourself:

For an entire week it hurt to walk, sit, get up, you name it. If it wasn’t for all the down feathers in my puffer coat, the pain would be much worse, but it was scary nonetheless. There was no one around that late at night and I just pictured my frozen, lifeless body being found the next morning. Super tragic.

What I really need is for that stupid groundhog to get out of his cave & make this winter disappear. The sun needs to shine the shit out over Chicago and melt all this dumb snow so that we can all get on with our lives and frolic the streets sans coats and have endless drinks on sidewalk patios and wear skirts and shorts and tank tops and sandals like normal human beings! Enough with this winter nonsense already! It’s freaking March people! I can’t take it anymore!

Rant over. Thank you for letting me vent.

xo

mornings are rough.

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, but for the most part, things have been running smoothly. Today however, that lovely streak came to an end. Summer is long gone, Fall came and went in the blink of an eye, and as far as I’m concerned we are in the middle of a Polar Vortex in mid November.

Yesterday, while it was 14 effing degrees outside, I had a genius idea. This shouldn’t come as a shock though, because I have genius ideas all the time. But seriously, I needed to do groceries and I figured, what better time to get them delivered than when it’s freezing outside?!

So I went onto Peapod.com and started my virtual shopping list. If you’ve never heard of Peapod, Google it! It’s a game changer. Not that I don’t enjoy strolling the isles of my local Jewel, but there’s nothing like picking and choosing grocery items from the comfort of your own cozy bed.

Anyway, I chose to have my goods delivered this morning anytime between 7:30 am and 1pm. Of course, they decided to grace me with their presence right at 8am while I was still half asleep (it’s my day off, don’t judge me). So I threw on a robe and ran downstairs to open the lobby door for the delivery guy who was actually stuck at the front gate because the code I gave him to get in wasn’t working. Fabulous! Mid-way through my walk to get him I threw my hands in the air and yelled out something he luckily didn’t understand as I realized I came downstairs without my keys, leaving me locked out.

OF COURSE!

So I’m standing outside while it’s 12 degrees, in a cheetah robe with my Peapod delivery guy who’s wearing layers on layers, hat, gloves and facemask (cause it’s that damn cold), and all I could do was laugh. I insisted that he leave me there with my bags of groceries because someone would eventually have to go to work right? Wrong. He was nice enough to wait with me and laugh at me some more for what seemed like an eternity, but regardless I was grateful.

Then suddenly, I had another genius idea (see, they do happen all the time). I opened this little metal slot I always thought was for people’s cigarette butts in hopes of finding a spare key and like some sort of miracle, there it was!

I screamed, he cheered, and I gave him a good tip for being such a good sport. Peapod, I love you. Just don’t deliver anything to me before noon.

xo

don’t drink and ride the CTA.

If I didn’t know what FOMO meant, this week I’ve learned the meaning. While I continue to freeze my ass off and wear more layers than humanly possible, my hometown peeps are frolicking around South Beach like a bunch of wild animals enjoying every #MMW & #WMC event possible. Can I even hashtag on here? IDGAF. Vogue just hashtagged on their cover.

But enough about Miami and all of its current gloriousness. Today was rough in the CHI.

For starters, I fell on my way to the bathroom this morning. FELL ON MY FACE. I fell because I tripped over a BOOT. A problem I have never had to encounter because wtf wears boots?! Not me, until now. It’s all I effing wear. Every. Damn. Day. BOOTS.

OVER IT.

Irregardless, I decided to walk out of my apartment with an open mind because today is Thursday and that means it’s practically Friday, which means FREEDOM. Except what I experienced shortly after going under ground was not freedom. Moments after entering my train stop I became trapped in the freaking spinning thing that lets me into the train terminal. How is this possible you ask? I have no idea, but it happened. IT HAPPENED TO ME. I was trapped in this tiny jail for about 60 seconds until someone else came up behind me and had to set me free. Que pena.

Then the work day passed and it was time for happy hour, which is my favorite hour for obvious reasons. Drink, drank, drunk, now it’s time to go home.

The only problem is, the moment you switch up my routine (and add alcohol) in a new city I GET LOST. All my life I’ve heard the dangers of drinking and driving. What they failed to teach me was the dangers of drinking and getting on the train…because it’s confusing as SHIT. Leave it to me to get on the wrong train and freak out with a nearly dying phone.

Sigh.

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i woke up like this.

It’s only appropriate that on my first day of living in Chicago it snowed ALL. DAY.

Legit from the moment I pulled out of the airport until after I bar hopped my little ass around Lakeview at 2 a.m., it snowed. IT SNOWED SO MUCH!

My day started with non-other than an Ikea excursion with my partner in crime, Will. Here I participated in what I would like to call a little game of Supermarket Sweep where I just threw all kinds of shit in my cart without a worry in the world. I don’t know who I think I am. Really. Like, did I think I could afford all of that unnecessary shit? NOT.

So after hours of shopping (and putting lots of things back), it was time to find all of these magnificent pieces of Swedish furniture in the giant warehouse and put it onto our cart – all five of them. WE ENDED UP NEEDING FIVE CARTS. Close your eyes and picture me (and all of my super power strength) along with my friend, lugging around five Ikea flat-bed carts stacked with shit. People just watched & laughed in utter amazement of our strength (obvi) as we struggled with hundreds of pounds of boxes across the massive store.

In the end, I had to find out that all of my glorious furniture won’t be delivered for days so I’ve been sleeping on the floor in the middle of place, crack house style. Like, I seriously had a bowl of cereal on the toilet this morning cause I have no effing chairs & it’s basically the warmest spot in my entire place.

Anyway, last night after an awesome dinner at Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba and a few vodkas, I couldn’t figure out why the space heater in my “bedroom” wasn’t actually HEATING in the middle of the night so I threw on gloves, a scarf and my J.LO jacket (in addition to my sweatpants, sweater and socks) and went back to sleep -half frozen still.

In the words of Beyonce, I woke up like this…

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