I mentioned in my 5 year travel bucket list that I was headed to my first destination this year: The Galapagos.

Back in the summer of 2015, I sat on an outdoor rooftop in Chicago with my husband and our four best friends, two of which were about to embark on a year-long trip traveling South America. We gathered around a table in the warm night, surrounded by city lights, drinking cold beers, and dreaming about what it would be like to meet up in the Galapagos one day.

I don’t have the vocabulary or the writing skills to explain the eight days we spent sailling across the islands, experiencing life in a new way, so here is the next best thing.  The actualization from that day of rooftop dreaming.

Enjoy!

LappsFINAL from Alex Reinhardt on Vimeo.

You can read the first installment of Coffee and Crafts here for background, and some insight into my love for beer and coffee.

Coffee:

My sister and I have recently made ourselves a hobby of imitating Oprah’s latest commercial for Weight Watchers, where she shouts about her love of bread with reckless abandon:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSOtcyK3hF8
As entertaining as this is, I know exactly how Oprah feels about bread, because this is how I feel about iced coffee.

I. Love. Iced. Coffee.

So, when I took a recent trip to St. Augustine with my family, I was giddy knowing that one of my favorite iced coffees was in my near future.

The Kookabura 

Where is it?: 24 Cathedral Place, Ste 100, St. Augustine, FL 32084

The Kookaburra calls itself an Aussie-American coffee and pie bar, and apparently has a three different locations in St. Augustine. The one I visited is a tiny shop right in the heart of the historic district.

What I ordered: I walked into the Kookaburra knowing exactly what I was going to order: An Aussie Iced Coffee. It has a hint of vanilla, and is a bit creamier than your averaged iced coffee.

On this particular February day in Florida, temperatures were the upper 50’s. I have complained enough about the weather in Chicago on this blog for you to know that upper 50’s in February is basically summer weather for me. In Florida however, upper 50’s seems to be the equivalent of living inside of an icebox. As I waited in line, I overheard the barista and the customer exchange shock that there were people dumb enough to order iced coffees in this freezing weather. The barista then said, “I know, it’s crazy. Some people are just diehard about their iced coffee.” Lucky for them, they were able to see one of those diehard fanatics in the flesh, when I walked up next and ordered my iced coffee, daring to do the impossible in the face of such harsh elements.

Anyway, I ordered my delicious coffee, stepped outside into the sun, and enjoyed every second of it.

somehow I managed.

What I liked: I think I’ve said it enough – this is one of my favorite coffees, so I loved everything about it.

What I didn’t like: I guess this is where I should complain about the tiny cramped coffee shop, but honestly, I didn’t even care about that. This probably isn’t a place you would want to post up and spend hours reading and enjoying your coffee, but I personally think that adds to the Kookaburra. You’re in one of the most beautiful cities in America, grab your coffee and explore!

hard to tell from this picture – but it’s tiny and gets cramped, fast.

Would I go back?: Yes, yes. A thousand times yes.

I see this in my dreams.

Crafts:

My adventure into new beer this month took me out of the city of Chicago, and into the suburbs of Barrington. I was interested to know if the beer would be as delicious outside of the city, as the suburbs have a reputation for not having quite as much to offer.

The Lucky Monk

Where is it?: 105 Hollywood Blvd, Barrington, IL 60010

I wanted to make the drive out to the Lucky Monk after all of the ‘Best Of...‘ awards I saw attached to their beers. That, and their logo of a happy monk is adorable. The monk theme is carried throughout all of their menu and drink items – with beers like ‘Cardinal Sin Pilsner’ and ‘Solitude Stout.’

All of their house rotating tap beers are brewed in-house, and they even use a private well to supply the water they brew the beers with.

I felt as happy as that jolly monk looks after sampling these beers.

The restaurant itself is large, with dim lighting and a mixture of wood tables and various booths. It had a very familiar feel – almost like that of a large chain restaurant or brewery.

What I ordered: I didn’t hesitate to order their sampler for only $8.99. It was a great value, and gave me the opportunity to try all of 5 of their tap beers. The sampler also came with this handy breakdown and description of each beer I was sampling.

What I Liked: As I mentioned in my last coffee and crafts, I am a huge sucker for a great beer glass and presentation. The Lucky Monk did not disappoint. My favorite beer of the 5 was the Cardinal Sin, and the Monk’s choice, (which is a new rotating brew of the week) an IPA that I can no longer remember the name of. All the beers were ice cold, and delicious. I could even appreciate the stout beer – which I am not usually a fan of.

I also want to mention that the Lucky Monk got a bonus point for naming one of their appetizers Kristin Calamari – a clever little wink at the local ‘celebrity’ Kristin Cavallari, who went to Barrington High School before hitting it ‘big’ on Laguna Beach. Clearly, all it takes to win points with me is a good a reality TV personality pun.

What I didn’t like: 

There wasn’t a whole lot that I didn’t like here – other than the fact that it’s way too far out of the city. The restaurant itself is pretty isolated, and has a pretty generic restaurant feel inside like I mentioned, but it’s hard to care too much about that when the beer is so good.

Would I go back?: Probably not. As much as I enjoyed the beer, I can’t envision myself making the effort to go out there again, even when I’m in Barrington visiting family. However, I would absolutely recommend it to anyone who was in or around the area.

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All and all, I’d check this off as another successful venture into coffee and crafts. I’m already reaping the benefits from this series – as I’ve introduced the Metropolitan Flywheel to various people with rave reviews from my last visit at Beermiscuous. I can’t wait to see what other delicious discoveries are in store.

Until next time.

Once upon a time, in a different life, on a different blog, I wrote a love letter to the city I call home, Chicago.

Can’t deny her beauty.

Here is a direct line from that blog post years ago:

I can drive into the city after a weekend out of town, and seeing your skyline still takes my breath away. Even after all of these years. Perusing bars and restaurants, from Old Town to Wrigleyville-it never seems repetitive. You have the lake, the park, the pier, downtown, and my home of Lincoln Park. Sometimes I forget that I ever lived in any other city.

When I read that now, the first thing that comes to my mind is not a warm fuzzy picture of the breathtaking Chicago skyline, but a flashing image of the disgusting trash littered streets of Wrigleyville after a Blackhawks win.

Seriously, Wrigleyville? I never thought that got repetitive?

A night in Wrigleyville, back in 2011.

For years, I really was in love with the city of Chicago. Even as the winters started to take their toll, and I would dream of moving somewhere warm, I would still always think to myself ‘but I just love Chicago so much.’ And it was true. I did.

Then, slowly, things started to change.

About a week ago, I was walking home from work. It was a December day, and the temperature was inching near fifty degrees. In Chicago, this is a near miracle. People were out in shorts, drinking and dancing in the streets, and I barely seemed to register the joy that I would normally feel. I was walking down a familiar street that was full of classic Chicago brownstones. I looked up at one of my favorites. It was one of those multi-level, beautiful historic looking homes that I used to imagine myself living in some day. On this day, my first thought was,

“It must be miserable living there. They are so close to the police station, they probably hear ambulances even more than we do.”

I kept walking past, and then I realized suddenly, and with a shock that I had fallen out of love with my city. It wasn’t just the new found disgust for beautiful brownstones and their proximity to noise, it was everything. I had known things between me and Chicago were not exactly the same as they used to be, but it still was jarring when I realized just how much had changed.

When I was in my very early twenties, and fresh out of college with a useless Communications degree, I dreamed about living in Chicago. No, really, I had actual dreams that I would move to this city. I remember one dream in particular, I was walking through an empty apartment, unsure if I wanted to rent it. I looked out the apartment window and saw a clear view of the Sears (ok fine, Willis) tower. Once I saw the view in my dream, I knew the apartment was mine.

Me at 20, dreaming about my future city.

Flash forward a month later, and I had gotten my first job. I was apartment hunting with Al, and we stood in an empty 700 square foot one bedroom on the corner of Fullerton and Clark. It was a little dirty (there was an actual banana peel on the ground) and I was voicing my doubts to Al. At that moment, I looked out the kitchen window, and saw an exact replica of the view from my dream. Needless to say, we signed our rental agreement that day.

I took this as a clear sign that Chicago and I were meant to be.

But, just like people argue that you can have multiple soul mates, I think it is time for me to admit to myself that it is okay to have multiple cities. When I made my dream of living in Chicago a reality, it fit who I was and what I needed out of life at the time. Who I am, and what I need out of life now, has completely shifted. Anyone who has fallen out of love can probably attest to the fact that it doesn’t happen overnight. But, once the realization does hit you, it becomes almost impossible to ignore.

So, here are the 5 signs that made me realize I was falling out of love with Chicago. Beware of these signs in your own life, as they might be telling you that it is time to move on to another city, before the relationship starts to take a turn for the worst.

1. Your eyes start to wander.

Just how I imagine it must be when people start falling out of love in a relationship, my eyes have started to wander every single time I travel out of Chicago. I start seeing other places through rose-colored glasses, and comparing their strengths to Chicago’s weaknesses.

It used to be that when I would go out of town to another city to visit someone, I would always smugly think to myself how much better Chicago was.

Not anymore.

For example, I happened to be in Minneapolis for a wedding this November, and I wouldn’t shut up to anyone who would listen about how beautiful the lakes were, and how impressed I was with the downtown.

It wasn’t it until finally I said it to someone who was from Minneapolis, who looked at me suspiciously and said, ‘Don’t you live in Chicago? And aren’t you like right by lake Michigan? What’s the difference?’

Oh, right. This is MINNESOTA. I am fawning over lakes in Minnesota. 

the ‘beautiful lake and downtown’ – like I said, rose colored glasses.

Once you start to think the lakes in Minneapolis, Minnesota rival those of Lake Como, Italy, it is time to do some re-evaluating.

2. The nit-picking begins.

When I first moved to Chicago, I loved the pace of it. I loved how each neighborhood has its own vibe, and how the city was alive at all hours of the day and night.

Me & Chicago together in our glory days.

Now, I get physically angry when I hear voices outside my window. The wail of an ambulance siren has become one of my most hated sounds. I now go out of my way to avoid crowds. This is something that has developed over years of being shoved in a moving box next to dozens of people during my morning commute, lining up behind fifty other people just to get into my work building, and standing in line for over thirty minutes to get groceries at Trader Joe’s, not to mention facing an hour of traffic just to get two miles. Basically any simple task or errand in Chicago: You face a crowd.

These are things that never used to bother me, but have started to really take a toll on my sanity lately. Which leads me to:

3. You stop wanting to spend time together.

I used to get really excited for a weekend discovering a new neighborhood, going downtown for an event, or a lazy summer day at the lake. While I still find myself going through the motions of doing these things, they don’t hold the same excitement they once did.

Avoiding the cold, city crowds, and skipping out on pricey restaurant meals, has slowly replaced the above as my weekend activity of choice. Staying at home and venturing within in a three-block radius of my apartment has become just as exciting and fulfilling (although this may be because winter has set in, and that changes everything).

4. The thrill is gone.

This is a less tangible one to explain, but just as important. I realized that day when I no longer looked at my favorite house on my favorite block in awe, and instead grumbled past it like a scrooge, that the thrill was gone.

My favorite tree line street with fancy houses.

While I do still admire and love the beauty of Chicago, it doesn’t have the same hold over me that it once did. And that’s okay.

5. It’s not you, it’s me. 

This is probably the sign that matters the most above all others. Signs 1-4 could simply point to a rough patch between Chicago and myself, or a little bump in the road of our relationship. But, this point is the one that makes me know it is time to start seriously planning my next steps.

The truth is, Chicago no longer fits who I am anymore. It was the perfect place for me to transition into adulthood, to spend the bulk of my twenties running around enjoying life, with everything I could possibly want at my fingertips. I now crave something new, a slower pace, somewhere that facilitates a more year-round outdoor lifestyle, and that doesn’t freeze my face off in the winter.

Falling out of love with the city you live in can actually be a wonderful thing. It can become the catalyst that propels you to make a much needed change. In our case, it is exactly what needed to happen to feel like we can finally move on from Chicago for awhile, and start a new chapter. I am someone who has always been horrible with transitions and change, so moving on would be nearly impossible to do if I was still constantly feeling like I belonged somewhere else.

All this to say, Al and I can count on two hands the amount of months we have left in this great city that has given so much to us. I am going to make an effort to spend time doing all the things that remind me of what I once loved so much about Chicago, and make the most of the time we have left in the Windy City.

Although things have changed with us, Chicago, I hope you always know:

I still love you. I’m just not IN love with you.

The city we’ll always love.

Meg

This year marks my 6th winter in Chicago.

It is a distinct trait of Chicagoans to obsess endlessly over the weather (particularly in the winter) and I am no different. In fact, here is an entire post on this very subject.

I grew up in Indiana, so I am well aware of what to expect from each of the four seasons. My whole life, I naively thought I understood what a rough winter looked like. Turns out, I never fully understood what it meant to be cold, until I moved to Chicago and experienced my eyelashes turning into icicles within minutes of stepping out of my apartment.

Growing up I would hear people talk about ‘seasonal depression.’ At the time, I assumed it was just a way for people to blame their problems on something else, and would arrogantly think to myself, ‘I don’t get it. Winter is just like every other season. All you have to do is put on an extra layer and go outside.’

And then, I moved to Chicago.

In Chicago, winters are so brutal, it is normal for your face to physically hurt the second you walk outside. You are often forced to wear sunglasses to protect your eyeballs from the wind, not the sun. Fashion becomes completely irrelevant for at least four months straight. Everyone is wearing coats that make them look as if they rolled themselves into a giant burrito with the down comforter used primarily for their beds. People get genuinely excited for any temperature above 25 degrees for the entire season.

Throughout the years, Chicagoans have had several different names for the hell that is a Chicago winter. There was the Snowpocolypse of 2011, and the ‘Groundhogs Day’ blizzard of 2012, which pelted us with a new (but suspiciously similar) snowstorm day after day. Then, in 2014, we officially unofficially renamed the city of Chicago ‘Chiberia,’ after an unprecedented 7 months of straight winter.

When you live in a place that evokes complete dread between the months of December and April, you are bound to come up with some strategies.

Here I am once again, for reasons I can never fully explain, slugging through another Chicago winter. I have had to come up with some survival strategies over the years to make it this far. Turns out, complaining about the weather non stop doesn’t actually help as much as I had hoped (but please don’t take that to mean I am going to stop).

Allow me to share my top 5:

1. Have Plenty of Wine in your Apartment AT ALL TIMES

Or, just move into a winery with your friends and save yourself some time. Please note: Full length coats while indoors happen regularly.

This is serious. While increasing your alcohol intake may seem like a bad idea in conjunction with seasonal depression, I assure you, it is not. (Disclaimer: I have no professional credentials to base that on so all statements are not factual and should probably be ignored).

A glass of red wine after spending 2+ hours battling the brutal winter commute home is necessary. We’ve got to keep our sanity during these dark times, and this is one of the best ways to do it.

More importantly, I have had a few winters that were so cold and snowy, the entire city of Chicago basically shuts down for days on end (except work. Work never seems to stop). Would you want to be stuck indoors for an unknown amount of time without a drop of wine in the house?  Always be prepared.

2. Make plans. Make all the plans. (or risk fusing into a blob with your couch)

Friends! Don’t forget that you have them in the dark winter months. (Again, notice the coats being worn indoors)

This is a difficult one, because during a Chicago winter, you truly lose all will and motivation to leave your apartment for months on end. This is when you have to call your friends for back-up, and hold each other accountable.

For example, this year, my friends and I started a weekly winter dinner club. It is a great excuse to get together during the week, and force ourselves to do something creative, like attempting to cook different type of meals. More importantly, we use it as a way to make sure we are all getting some type of social interaction outside of our co-workers. True friendship at it’s finest.

3. Have 3-5 shows (or books) lined up at any given moment

The most common Chicagoan sight you will ever see in the winter. Pretty soon you won’t be able to differentiate between the couch and us.

When you do have to be on the couch (because no matter what my other points in this post say, this is unavoidable) make it count. Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, House of Cards- all shows we saved to burn through in the winter.

One of my favorite winter memories is the time Al and I spent watching all six seasons, 128 episodes and 8,215 hours of Dawson’s Creek. Now that I am typing that fact out, I realize it is probably something I should refrain from admitting to others.

The bonus here is, you don’t even have to feel guilty about wasting hours in front of the TV, because when it is negative 20 degrees outside, you really don’t have any other options.

4. Leave Chicago

A winter escape to St. Thomas (which also doubled as my Bachelorette Party)

This is my #1 way to survive Chicago in the winter. Every single person that I have ever known, hits a point during a Chicago winter that I have dubbed the ‘Wubblies.’ It sounds cute, but make no mistake, there is nothing cute about getting the Wubblies (the winter blues and uglies). Your skin hasn’t seen sunlight for as long as you can remember. You are constantly cold. Your lungs have forgotten the sensation of breathing fresh air. You get genuinely shocked at your own sullen face when you unexpectedly catch yourself in a passing window reflection. Seasonal depression has worked its finest magic on you.

This is when you know you have got to get out.

I always try and plan at least one trip away from the city every winter, even if it’s only for a few days, and it changes me every single time. Never in my life have I had such great appreciation for the sun, than on a trip away from home in the winter.

5. Love on your pets

If I have to be inside for days on end, at least it gives me an excuse to spend hours of uninterrupted time with the two fuzziest (yet neediest and most freeloading) roommates I’ve ever had:

I take any excuse to spend more time with these guys.

I am planning for the 2015/2016 winter to be my last in Chicago, but you can be sure that I will be using all 5 of my survival strategies to make this last one count.

Here’s to staying warm, and never letting those Wubblies get you down.

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