Camping has been a summer tradition in my family since my earliest memories. With my dad being a high school math teacher our summers were always wide open to explore the great outdoors. Its been years since I’ve been able to camp with my parents so we decided we should meet up at the easiest half-way point: Des Moines, IA. My husband, Bill, and I jumped on a Megabus for $4 round trip and my parents drove from Minnesota with all the camping gear.
Now lets just say some pretty terrible things have happened to me while camping as a child including getting poison ivy all over my hands and getting cut up pretty bad from rolling down asphalt after tripping on my rollerblades. This trip’s disasters were all prompted by rain. Lots of rain. Instead of roasting marshmallows over the campfire we were stuck under the overhang by the bathrooms for a good majority of the trip. One of the nights the storm was so terrible I thought a tree was going to fall on Bill and I in our little 2 person tent.
We survived! No trees fell on us, not even a branch. And our tiny little tent stayed completely dry. During the calm in between the storms where we were able to play some games, go on a hike where we took a lot of pictures (especially of spider webs), and make a few campfires (one of which almost ended with my dad engulfed in flames, but that’s another story). Hiking boots were laced, marshmallows were roasted, and all-in-all we enjoyed our time spent together in nature.
This month I was called for the dreaded jury duty. I was not excited about missing a day of work but being a good American, I trudged across town to 26th & California with a smile on my face and a sack lunch in hand. Despite ridiculous traffic I ended up arriving just on time to get my number and take a seat in the holding pen with the rest of the potential jurors. Let the lottery begin.
The view of the city from the courthouse was an interesting perspective from my normal Northside view.
I tried my best to occupy myself for what ended up being a five hour wait.
Luckily I was not picked and left just a little bit richer than when I came.
I recently attended the Annual Optimus Block party with some fellow industry professionals. Now I like a good block party, but one with industry people and beer, well that is bordering on utopia.
We rounded the corner to the sound of thumping music and a packed street full of creative people. We grabbed beer and let the fun (networking) begin. There was a lot going on: a stage was packed with dancers, people were putting on their branded Optimus rub-on tattoos, and what’s a block party without hot dogs? I caught up with several of my friends and also had some good conversations with some new people. We then got adventurous and explored the Optimus office to see where the magic happens. After my female friends skipped the long Women’s bathroom line and ambushed the Men’s and I ate a bowl of salted nuts we headed back outside.
We came back outside just in time to hear the announcer roaring that the special guest had arrived. I had heard stories of past guests like the Old Spice guy, so I was pretty excited. Who is it? Who is it? Guitars pumping and… NORDIC THUNDER the US Air Guitar champion! Nice. We rocked out a little, I ate another bowl of nuts, and then when I thought the night could not get any better, oh man, there was a Photobooth. Overall the party was a pretty great time. It definitely gets my two thumbs up!
Pictures by Miloš Mihajlović
No RedEye, no Reader. Not even a Hoy! to be found. This is the heart-wrenching tale of how the Wilburns survived the blizzard that brought life in Chicago to a standstill. For about 8 hours.
Tuesday afternoon, before there was even an inch of snow on the ground, Andy’s electricity skipped town, plunging his household into practically prehistoric conditions.
Kristen woke up the next morning and looked despairingly at the snow covered cars. “OH NO! I’ll never be able to make it in to work today,” she cried while popping season six of The Office into the dvd player.
Looking out her window, Anna noticed that her AC unit was topped with a massive mound of snow and ice. Her heart pounded as she realized that it couldn’t possibly run in this condition. Thankfully, this crisis was averted as, it being the middle of winter, the air conditioner wasn’t being used anyway.
Guss was robbed of the ability to do several of his usual household chores due to the snow storm. Sadly, even the garbage had to be left inside, because, as he explained to his wife, the alley was only traversable by ski.
Will the Wilburns ever return to the office? To be continued…
It’s getting cold in Chicago; the snow has finally come to say Hello. The holiday CTA car is out and about, and lawn chairs have been repurposed to hold parking spots. Time to drag out the winter gear from the back of our closets and brave the winter flurries. Living in the Windy City, we expected it to be nippy out. What we didn’t expect was for it to be just as chilly inside the office!
The reason: Our thermostat has been taken prisoner by the abominable snowman.
One by one, staffers started to bundle up at their desks until the office began looking like an Eskimo village.
We’re talking scarves, gloves, hats, coats and even babushkas!
Have you ever tried typing with snow gloves on? It’s not easy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Exhibit A: The polar bear in his natural habitat.
This has nothing to do with the cold, but isn’t it cute that Anna stands on a chair to write on the task board? Aww.
Even Minsky looks ready for a hike through the Andes.
Finally Bossman saved the day! By applying sheer brute force (and a handy-dandy tool kit) he managed to rig the heat back up. He’s our hero.
Just another day in the life of the Wilburns.
Recently, friends have mentioned that they’ve seen some changes in me. Some strange behaviors that don’t seem very “Andy-like.” Don’t worry, I am still the hilarious, triple threat, creative genius that you all know and love. But, there have been some developments that make people go “huh!?”. No, I am not turning into a werewolf (as far as I know), BUUUT I think I might be turning into… A BRO. Dun dun dunnnn. Here are 2 reasons:
- During one of the many random conversations we have at WT, I revealed that my mother was a Metal Head. I have distinct childhood memories of sitting in the back seat of the car, being scared that the Enter Sandman was going to get me. So I thought, what the heck. I ditched my usual morning Lady Gaga sing-a-long and filled my iPod with The Black Album and Master of Puppets. Either Metal Head-ism is genetic or all those years of back seat listening seeped into my brain. I somehow knew all of the lyrics and guitar riffs, and it was as if Metallica haunted my dreams. Now, I Ride the Lightning every morning on my way to work. Who would have thunk it? Good old, Kanye West loving, Beyonce obsessing, Andy.
- It’s hard for me to even say this, but… I watched football the other night. Background info: I am sports-deficient. I don’t know what came over me. I heard my neighbors going crazy and it was almost as if my thumb was possessed. Somehow, I found that I had ditched my BRAVO and was now on ESPN watching the Bears. How did I even know the channel?! After five minutes or so, I called my mother to try and get some sort of explanation. My mom has the minimal amount of knowledge of sports in order to have something to talk to her husband about. She explained what she could about touchdowns, halfbacks, hunchbacks, and so on. By the end of the game I was excited about the win, and I may even watch again next week. I still don’t get the tights tho. I joke, I joke.
Are we seeing a theme here? Is this the beginning of a long string of changes? Will I wake up one day and realize that I am playing beer pong and fist pumping at the Superbowl? Am I becoming a bro-wolf? I guess we will have to wait and see, but for now I’m cool with a playlist of Metallica and Rihanna. Hmm, come to think of it, that could make an interesting mash-up.
Carving Pumpkins is a sacred Halloween tradition. It starts with finding the perfect pumpkin. Small or big, tall and skinny or short and fat, even misshapen—whatever speaks to you! Unfortunately I didn’t have enough time to visit a pumpkin patch and ended up getting one from the local grocery store. Some people used templates, but the scars on the skin of the pumpkin ended up being the inspiration for our design.
Next gather your tools. I originally scoffed at the “pumpkin carving kit” but quickly switched over to it because a regular knife is a lot harder to wield. Then comes the fun part: digging out the guts. There’s nothing quite like sticking your hands into mushy, cold, and wet pumpkin innards. The hostess of the carving party gathered the seeds and roasted them as everyone continued to carve, so by the time we were done there were bowls full of delicious roasted pumpkin seeds.
My finished pumpkin had a devil’s lock and fangs and was among the favorites at the end of the night. Unfortunately the warm weather rotted it within a few days, but there’s still a chance to make another one before trick-or-treating!
