My Heroes: Chicagoans

Have you missed me?  I've missed all of you!  Things have been a little nutty around here and to keep my head from spinning and turning into Medusa I've been really concentrating on getting some things off my plate.  But now....I'm back and what a way to come back....

Now, let me preface this all by saying that I've worked for and on behalf of the homeless for almost 20 years.  I've served meals, helped to raise money and awareness. Through this I've learned a lot about the homeless.  For instance, I know that many, if not a majority of homeless (including teenage runaway), choose to be homeless. Sounds weird, right, but it's not.  It makes sense...to them.  These people don't want to, or can't, handle the responsibilities of life. They don't want a job or pay rent, etc.  Then there are others who are mentally ill.  No one is looking for them because they don't know who they are let alone where they are.  Then there are those who simply fall on hard times and use every resource available to them to get back on their feet. The one thing almost all of them have in common is panhandling.  It's just that each group has a different approach.

In Chicago, there are even food voucher programs by where one can buy vouchers and give them to someone in need who can in turn use them to purchase food. This is just one of many ways that people are helping each day.  One organization, I'm on the board of directors of, seeks out those in true need on the streets, providing housing, food, clothing, psychological help, medications, living assistance and much more.  So, with that said I am a compassionate and understanding person when it comes to the homeless, but I also know that taxpayers provide services to help these people get back up on their feet.  If they want it, they can get help. I will not give money to the homeless, but if said man below approached me outside the restaurant, I would have bought a bagel for him....I am not completely heartless....

This morning after a coffee meeting I sat down at the bus stop to check CTA Bustracker on my phone (brilliant by the way!  Tells you how long before your bus arrives) when a man walks up to me:

Man: Excuse me, can you help me out?
E: No, I'm sorry, sir, I can't help you.
Homeless Man: Look, I'm homeless and just woke up in the alley.  I'm hungry
E: (Yes, you smell like you just woke up in the alley) Well, I can't help you but there are plenty of places you can go for help.  You can flag down any police officer and they have to take you to a place where you can get food and shelter.
Homeless Smelly Man: PO-LICE! Don't you go talkin' to me about no PO-LICE!  All I want is some damn money to get something to eat!
E: (I stand up and begin to step out of the bus shelter) Sir, I'm sorry I can't help you.  I work with and know of several organizations that can help you get what you need.  I only mention the police because they are required, when asked, to take you to a shelter.
Angry Smelly Homeless Man:  (approaching me) Just give me some DAMN money so I can get something to eat!  I'm homeless and hungry.
E: (Walking backwards towards the building, people are now walking by me...mostly men and as I look at them for help)
ASHMan:  (approaching me again, rambling) Don't be talkin' to me about no PO-LICE.  I did time in a penitentiary and I don't want to see no police ever again.  Do you know what it's like there?  I ain't goin' back!
E: (Great, the penitentiary.  I'm going to die and none of these fuckers walking by me, seeing me retreating from this man yelling in my face are doing a damn thing about it.  Here I am on a busy street corner, fuckers walking by like nothing is happening, fuckers sitting RIGHT THERE waiting for the light to change not doing a thing and I'm going to die and Angry Smelly Homeless Man is going to run off with my free refill of Panera coffee - half-caff, of course)
ASHMan: (approaching me still) I just woke up in the fucking alley, do you understand? And I'm hungry just give me some money to eat something. 
E: (I really wanted to yell at the man, but didn't want to increase the odds that he would kill me right there and then...AND trying to make an effort to get some fucker walking past me to intervene...) Sir, I'm sorry I can't help you.  I told you that there are people who can help you.  You're making me extremely uncomfortable (my back now pressed up against the building and people walking in between us on the sidewalk - HELLO!  DOES ANYONE FUCKING CARE THAT I WILL BE KILLED?)
ASHMan: I'm making YOU uncomfortable?  Just give me some damn money and I'll go away.
E: Seriously, sir, you're making me very uncomfortable and I will not help you.
ASHMan: FUCK YOU, then.  FUCK YOU!  FUUUUUCCCKK  YOU!

ASHM finally walks off to bother other people down the street and I am left, back against a wall with fucking Chicagoans who won't do a damn thing walking by me.  I am completely jolted, stunned and unsteady.  Seriously?  Not ONE person, not ONE man could or would stop to help a woman from being pestered by a a clearly unstable angry homeless man?  I will tell you this one thing: this would not happen in Kansas or back home in the Southern Plains states.  No way, no how would ANY man allow a woman to be put in such a situation without coming to her rescue.

Chicago has certainly changed over the years.  Where once it was the "BIG" city that Midwesterners flocked too, it's now a true melting pot of people who only flocked here after gentrification, after it became so pretty and nice.  Clearly none of them are from the Midwest and none give a rat's ass about anyone but themselves, and that breaks my heart.  Chicago is no longer a Midwestern city.  It has gone the way of other booming metropolises.  I'm so disappointed.  I love my city, but the people....I wonder, if this man had attacked me if anyone would have done a damn thing about it.

And so this is the first step in the slow process of breaking up with the city of Chicago; the best relationship I've ever had.  She was always new, exciting, passionate, sexy, and there when I needed her, but now things have changed.  I've changed.  I need more.

xo

A Flirt: The Neighbor

About a year ago, my neighbor and I made out. He's younger (uhm, FINE! 25. He's 25! At least I'm not going to jail for it) and adorable. He was a terrible kisser but a little instruction and we were good. Again, he's sssoooo cute and adorable.

What I love about guys in their 20's is what I love about guys in their late 30's-early 40's. In their 20's-30's you can imagine what that baby face is going to look like at 40. It may take men longer to grow into themselves, but it's highly worth it and let me tell you, The Neighbor is going to be a super hottie! For right now, he is a load of fun to flirt with and....

So, last night I was trying to be good, getting perfect and ready for a crazy day of events, and I heard all of my neighbors out front. I say,"Sure I can go hang with them for a bit and be asleep by 10:30p." HA! I went down to hang out and let my nails dry without thinking I have a big, HUGE nasty red pimple on my face that is not fit or public consumption - I had washed my face earlier to treat the little fucker with the hope that it might disappear before this morning. That, of course, wasn't the case. Once you remember something like that you start to rest your chin in your hand until you just say "Fuck it!" and keep having fun. My neighbors and I have, for the most part, seen each other at our unshowered-messy-bedhead-unshaven-worst, and while I like to try and look presentable at all times, sometimes you just forget. Oddly enough, it must have been the alcohol or the pot he was smoking, but apparently I was lookin' good to him (doesn't hurt that the sun was setting. I always look better by candle and moonlight)!

I love to watch boys flirt - with me, of course. Some make it SO obvious that it's fun to sit back and receive. The Neighbor is one of those. Sooner or later there was a "come up and check out what they did to my apartment" (make out session - MUCH improved!); "would you like some wine? come up I'll get you a glass" (make out session); and finally the "can you show me where your bathroom is" which led to full on make out session and...more fun. However, me being a stickler that I am, not too much fun was had cuz I had to get up super early. (HEY! At my age, we need our beauty sleep!) Plus, why not save something for a rainy day - in the forecast soon.

It's been some time, I will admit, since I've had this kind of attention and...fun. It's not that I haven't been looking, it's just that The Neighbor is really only fun, whereas I'm looking for a relationship. A lasting one. Someone to have fun with all the time. I'm tired of this transient-lover BS. I want one to stay. Nonetheless, it was MUCH needed fun to remind me of the simple pleasure that is a man. Stay tuned for that rainy day.

Saying "No" Doesn't Mean I'm Boring

I love having fun. Love IT! Who doesn't? In my case...I can't say no. "No, I have to go home" are words that don't seem to exist in my vocabulary, or at the least momentarily disappear at key times. Of course, they do make an appearance, like when someone is trying to get me to stay out and spend too much money, or following a romp in the hay that I've suddenly regretted, and immediate fleeing is required. It's not like I can't say it, it's just that a lot of times I have real trouble saying "No".

Yesterday is the perfect example. I attended a luncheon with a friend -we'll call him The Mayor (He knows everyone and I mean everyone!) - and we headed to the bar following for a few drinks, which turned into a bender, which led to a cab ride to the West Loop neighborhood and sitting on a patio until Midnight flirting with some cuties....I could have been home and back to work by 3p, I could have saved money and done something productive at home, but uh huh, nope, I said "yes" to the glasses of wine and the adventure that followed.

Maybe it's the wine...it...always...starts with the wine. Now, I didn't get drunk last night, and although I question it some times, I don't have a drinking problem, but I definitely should have spent my day in a better way. The wine is something I turn to for relaxation, but I HATE to be drunk. No doubt I would have slept better last night and not feel like complete crap today (not read: hangover, just tired). Some greasy fast food breakfast sounds awesome right now, but that's not going to help me on the "getting in shape" front. I don't regret the fun I had yesterday (well maybe just a little) but what I need to figure out is why I can't stop myself.

I've always left it up to friends in the past, who have more self control, to say "we're going...NOW", but I can't seem to say it myself. It's like I need someone to call me on the phone and check in, drive by and throw me in the back seat or an alarm to suddenly go off on my mobile to snap me into reality. It's like...I need someone to care about me more than I do.
I would have stayed out on that patio until this morning if I could have...I bet. Or worse....I could have gone home with a flirt!

I know that married people always seemingly want their days of single freedom back, and I should embrace mine, right? After all, I'm exercising my right to stay out late with some flirts with no one to answer to, no kids or husband at home. Maybe, just maybe, you think I'm nuts, this is not a big deal at all and I should stop kicking myself. Maybe...or maybe I have been so stressed out over trying to figure out my life, et al, that when fun presents itself I over indulge myself in an attempt to runaway, clear my mind - any other excuse I can come up with. Wow, sadly, I've been doing this for years....