Northwoods

Yesterday afternoon Russelle took me to her favorite neighborhood bar, the Northwoods Inn. It's like a classier Tally's, for Wisonsinites. We started playing pool in the backroom, because I'm a pool shark now, and these two oldsters from Wisconsin sitting at the bar asked if we wanted to play against them. They were a little rough looking. So we said yes. I'm HORRIBLE at pool, y'all, so the old guys won both games. But it was fine, because the one in the hat bought us beer and told us fun stories about being a hick.

Then Russ took me to some cool shops on Belmont. The third floor of one of the shops had all Army surplus stuff. Who knew gas masks were in? I didn't. Young people in Chicago are really hip. I'm not there yet, but I have a good feeling I will be. My guess is by this time next year, you won't even recognize me I'll be so hip. I'm talking tight pants, giant sunglasses, lots of canteens, maybe a face tattoo.

Sweet Pee

It's SO WARM HERE TODAY (over 30). I opened the windows to air the place out and Peewee is loving it. She's actually smiling.

Cheri

My friend Cheri from Asheville visited me this past weekend, plus some. We didn't do a lot, because SOMEONE got herself sick, but we had a good time bonding. Saturday I showed her my walk to the lake and we climbed around on the ice chunks, which I'm sure is safe. We had lunch in Lincoln Park and walked all the way to the Hancock in the freezing cold. That night we saw a play—Book of Liz, by Amy and David Sedaris. I thought it would be hiLARious, and it should've been, but it wasn't. I was very disappointed. Sunday was day one of being sick, so we watched, like, six hours of 30 Rock and ate soup and Dora popcicles. It was like I had a sick daughter. But a giant daughter who's, like, smart and stuff.

Cheri left this morning and, I'll tell you, Peewee misses her sick blanket friend. I also miss coming home to someone to eat with and watch TV with. And someone who fixes stuff. She fixed my drain and window, so it doesn't rattle in the wind (just by locking it, but still—I never would've figured that one out).

We missed Amy of course (she considered flying up at the last minute), but it was also good to spend time with Cheri alone. I haven't known those two very long, but even though they live so far away, we're becoming closer and closer. I feel like we were meant to be friends. I met Amy my junior year in college, in web authoring/nerd class. A few days into the semester, I looked at Amy and for some reason thought, "I'm going to sit by that nerd next time." And I did and we became friends. Wait a minute, am I drunk? Do you want to know my life story?

Valentine's Day

Russelle and I decided to get dressed up (in dresses) and go out to dinner. She picked the place weeks ago, but didn't tell me and instead gave me clues. I'm a little slow, but I eventually figured it out the day before. It turned out to be a restaurant called Chalkboard, which was very small and charming and had an interesting, detailed menu. I had the fried chicken because I am classy.

I generally don't care about Valentine's Day. I think the last time I had plans for Valentine's Day was when MY MOM and I saw How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, then went to dinner and spent the entire time asking ourselves why we saw that movie. We had a very annoying Valentine's Day celebration at work that I of course pretended not to know about, even though the woman who organized it sent an email every day to remind us. But it was fun to go out to a nice restaurant where I'm sure everyone thought we were on a date.

The Oprah Show

I met Val at Harpo Studios before 7am. We waited in line while they processed everyone and went through our purses. Then we were taken to the holding room upstairs that was run by old ladies. One of the old ladies kept saying, "You have allegedly one hour until show time." An hour later: "You have allegedly forty minutes until show time." Like she had just watched some old Star Jones episodes of The View.

They called us down by name to go into the studio, and Val was, like, the fourth name called. So we went downstairs and they showed us to our seats in the SECOND ROW. We were freaking out and then I told Val we need to play it cool so the producers don't realize we're a couple of Spazzy McNutbags and kick us out. The front row was reserved for the family of the woman they profiled. I bet Val and I will be on TV because Oprah and Suze talked to the family a few times, and we were right behind them. I'm in a bright green sweater and brown scarf, and Val is in a red shirt. It airs tomorrow, the 13th. Before the show one of the producers told us how to make good facial expressions, so if I look like an idiot it's not my fault.

It was a weird experience. I felt like I was just watching the show on a really, really big screen TV in really, really high definition. Val and I kept saying we couldn't believe we were there.

The show was actually quite depressing. It was about this woman whose abusive husband killed himself and purposely left her, like, $300,000 in debt. Suze Orman helped her develop a plan to get back on her feet. Suze was funny, because she's crazy, and she did yell at people after the show. Oprah was all business and very quick with her takes. She didn't really talk to the audience at all, and actually seemed disinterested in the woman's story. Like she just wanted to get it over with asap so she could go backstage and eat turkey bacon with Gayle.

There wasn't much after-show material. A few people asked questions about money and credit scores and I zoned out for a while. Then, and I swear to god, Oprah said, "I'd love to take more questions, but I have to go. I have to call Africa."

We got a free copy of Suze's book, Women & Money. I guess I should read it. I told Val to read it and get back to me. I mean, I just sat twelve feet away from Suze Orman for an hour—I'm practically an expert in finance now.

Oprah

I'm going to the Oprah Show tomorrow! I'm very excited. My friend Val won tickets. She wins all the good tickets. Like last year, she won tickets to see Rod Stewart and took me with her. Maybe one of these days I'll win tickets to something cool—like I hear that Hannah Montana girl is pretty good—and take her.

The guest tomorrow is scary-looking financial expert, Suze Orman. My mom said I should think of a question to ask her, and since I owe Robert $85 for my holiday plane ticket, and since every time I call my mom I hear Robert say in the background, "Tell her she owes me money!" And since he tells everyone he knows not to lend me money, my mom said I should ask something like, "I'm a recent graduate living on my own, and I owe my stepdad $85. How do I get out this black hole of debt?" Then she said I should ask a question that will let Oprah know I'm a talented writer who needs a break. So I'm thinking, "Hi, Suze. I am a talented writer who needs a break. What should I do to save for retirement?"

My goals for tomorrow are to cry on camera and to get a new car.

Rock of Lunch Partner

Now that Brendan's leaving, everyone keeps asking me who I'm going to eat lunch with. What am I, 12? Can't I just eat alone at my desk like a LOSER? Maybe I should hold auditions for a new lunch partner. I'll call it Rock of Lunch Partner or Age of Lunch Partner or Flavor of Lunch Partner. Or Average Lunch Partner Hawaii. Or Temptation Cafeteria! And instead of a rose ceremony, I'll have a sandwich ceremony: "I'm giving a sandwich to Craig because he really opened up to me today about his past lunch partners. I'm not giving a sandwich to Lisa, because she gave me a funny look when I took a bite of her quesadilla, and I just don't need that drama in my life right now." Or, "Heather, will you continue to stay in this cafeteria and rock my lunch?" (Vh1, are you reading this? Why are you not hiring me right now?)

I took a snow day

I went to a Stuporbowl party yesterday at Colleen's and Russelle's friends' apartment in Park Ridge (you know, where Hillary's from). I've never watched a Superbowl in my life. Well, the verdict is in: I LOVED the puppy bowl and kitten half-time show. PUPPIES DRINKING OUT OF BOWLS? KITTENS SITTING ON STUFF? I could watch that all day long. Actually, Russ and I left before the 4th quarter because we were tired and missed the exciting end.

I had another good weekend after another bad week. I'm starting to love Chicago for its finds—the neighborhoods, the cute lunch spots, wine bars, quaint shops with switchblades and leather pants. Once you dig into the different neighborhoods, the city becomes more familiar and interesting. It's like a seventysomething-course meal.

I've been living for my weekends lately. I sort of cracked at work last week and had a good old-fashioned meltdown. I'm sure everyone thinks I'm crazy now. Oh well, a meltdown seemed like a good idea at the time. Brendan cracked too, and put in his two weeks on Friday. I would too if I could. Colleen and I got together on Saturday night to look for jobs and motivate each other, but we could only hook up one computer to the internet. So we went to three stores looking for an ethernet cable that splits into two at one end, which apparently we invented. Then we just ended up going out for pizza and drinks. I think that also helps.

Holy snow

Saturday morning