Archive for February 2014

Why Choose to live in Chicago?

Why the hell would anyone choose to live in Chicago? Why indeed. In 2004 we came to Chicago for a job, the Husband’s job. Though the job was in Oak Brook, Illinois, he agreed to do a reverse commute to allow us to live in the city. Better options for things to do. When less... Read more »

Six Reasons the Sochi Olympic 2014 PROBLEMS Give UK 2012 Olympics PLATINUM

So over Sochi already with all its problems, and these are my half dozen reasons why (so far). 1. First, things were done on time in the UK. Yes, even the paint was (apparently) dry! Unlike Sochi with the reported “are you kidding” stories about lack of water, floors and yes, roofs, in the UK... Read more »

Spring Cleaning & the Polar Vortex

Spring cleaning in January? Why not given the Polar Vortex grounded my asthmatic lungs (and the body they are encased in). Tis the season to be culling, cleaning and organizing according to my favorite dirty secret addiction on Flipboard-Apartment Therapy. Hiking up my big girl knickers, I opened the file I’d neatly avoided for years-my... Read more »

Super Bowl 2014 Tribal Ritual Time; or just pass the salty nibbles, please

Humans are tribal creatures. Just consider those who faithfully stomp through rain and snow to the Bears game. You can tell the Bears tribe by their chosen gear. Bears caps, Bear jerseys, Bears jackets and scarves, Bears-wear everywhere. It’s how the Bears show their affiliation to the  tribe. Some believe this affinity to herd with... Read more »
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    Candace Drimmer

    I was an accidental expatriate; love and marriage led me to it. One day I was a bandy-legged kid sitting atop my dogwood tree looking out of my small backyard world in 1950s New Jersey, wanting to move somewhere--anywhere, different. Next thing I knew my father had accepted a job in Houston TX. I was ecstatic, it was a foreign land in 1961 America. After high school graduation, my parents’ gave me a matched set of fawn-colored hardsided American Tourister luggage. Taking the hint, I went to college; well four colleges in five years--it was the 60s after all. Meeting a young hirsute anti-war, soon-to-be-Peace Corps volunteer, I fell in love. After finishing up college coursework for my degree, but before I even walking a graduation stage, I grabbed the paper airline ticket my boyfriend had sent me, my brand-new passport, and was off to the airport and Lima, Peru.

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