country mouse in the windy city

A haunting tune floods the room as you cautiously glide along rows of white. Taffeta, silk, satin, tool (and a little too much of it, you note), organza and lace tower around you like an army of white stallions. Your eyes burn from the relentless glare of “diamond-white,” “off-white” and ivory. As you turn down another colorless corridor, a chill runs down your spine: someone is watching you.

You continue down the aisle quietly, holding your breath in fear that you will be discovered. Beads of sweat begin to form on your brow and stash-line. Suddenly, you catch site of a ghostly reflection in a dozen gaudy rhinestones pinned on one of the off-white numbers. The ghoul’s muggy breath steams up the stones and fills the air with a potent moth-ball aroma. Before you turn to face the spirit you can’t help but notice: did the steam manage to form a 666 pattern on those stones? No … it must be your imagination.

“Good evening, young lady! What brings you to the shop?”

You turn around, nearly falling into an ocean of silk. “Well…” you gulp in terror, “I’m getting–”

“That’s great! Come sit with me over here, let’s get an idea of what you’re looking for.”

She takes your sweaty palm into hers (icy, you note) and drags you to a worn velvet couch surrounded by a hexagonal prism of mirrors and lace.

After handing you a heavy catalog full of bridal gowns she begins her round of questioning: The date, the venue, number of attendants, time of wedding, colors, height/weight/bust, etc. After ten minutes of detail gathering, she finishes up by asking one very intriguing question:

“Okay, so, last question: tell me one fun fact about yourself!”

You laugh, assuming this is some sort of cheesy joke, but after an awkward moment of grinning at each other blankly … you realize she is not kidding. You kindly respond with the first thing that pops into your head: your major in college.

“Great! So, a fun fact about me, I’ve worked here for 18 years and I’ve never once been invited to a wedding! Weird, huh?”

You think “not so strange” but instead shake your head and put on your best “no way!” face.

“Okay, so let’s find some dresses in here that you like. Then I’ll go ahead and pull them for you and we can get started!”

You ask if you can just browse the shop to check out the gowns instead. She freezes and stares at you in perplexity, still maintaining that enormous grin. For a moment you think, “Booger? Do I have a booger?”

“Umm…” For the first time you can’t see her top row of teeth, “it’s more relaxing for you this way … I do all the work, see?”

You hesitantly point to a few pictures in the catalog and, with a wink and a nod she prances away and disappears into a blinding cavern of chiffon.

She returns with two dresses (you pointed to at least five) and a strapless bra-girdle thing.

“Go ahead into the dressing room and put this on, then let me know when you’re ready.” She hands you the undergarment and shoves you into the “dressing room” (aka broom closet).

The instant you manage to hook the last notch on the girdle-contraption she throws open the door (which opens out to the now-bustling shop). Before you can react to your embarrassment she hands you dress #1, which looks nothing like any of the dresses you selected in the catalog.

“Here you go, come on out when you get it on.” She abruptly closes the door, trapping you in a dark casket of itchy fabric.

The dress fills the room like pudding in a cup, drowning you in a heap of vanilla-white. It takes you some time to figure out how to step into the monstrosity without losing balance. Your mind flashes forward and you see yourself falling through the door, tumbling onto the carpet (naked) in a web of ivory lace. You’re sweating again.

Finally you manage to get into the gown and proudly announce that you are ready. As you wait for her to open the door, you envision you/the dress oozing out of the dressing room as soon as the door opens … like frosting out of a tube.

You continue to wait. Nothing. You call out again, “READY!” … but hear nothing other than your own panting breath. You begin to fear that you will suffocate and die in this awful dress that you never liked to begin with. You panic and begin feeling around for the door knob. Just as you find it the door opens, flooding you in florescent lighting. All you can see in the brightness is a familiar, colossal grin.

Your eyes adjust and you can see her standing before you in awe.

“WOW! That looks amazing on you, come stand on this platform and take a look!”

You shimmy to the platform and turn to the mirror in absolute horror.

“Oh my god, this looks so perfect on you. It was MADE for you! I think this is the one – I mean, it rarely happens that the first dress you try is the one, but I really think this is it, don’t you?”

“I–”

“Wow, do you want to call your mom to have her come look? It’s just perfect! I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!”

All you can do is laugh in disbelief.

“Awh you are so modest! I know you love it because you’re smiling and laughing! How exciting for you!”

She yanks you off of the platform and hugs you in excitement. “Go ahead and get undressed and meet me at the front of the store – we’ll work out the price and get everything ordered there.”

You are shoved back into the closet and before you can utter a word she closes the door with a giggle, leaving you in darkness (again).

At this point you aren’t smiling anymore. It’s time for an escape plan.

After twenty minutes of worming your way out of the gown, you get dressed and sneak out of the dark stall. After what feels like hours of snaking through a series of aisles and hiding under satin trains when necessary, you finally spot the front door. You impulsively let out a sigh of relief … but your heart drops when you recognize your mistake. The sigh was not a sigh at all, but instead a victorious cry: “YESSSS!!! THANK YOU SWEET JESUS!”

Time stops as you assess your surroundings. It isn’t long before you see her. In slow motion her head spins around, revealing her grin-stamped face. You flinch in anticipation of a pea-soup explosion and shield your head with a nearby unity candle. Once you realize she has not vomited exorcist-style all over the shop, you drop the candle and make a run for it.

As you leap over dozens of flower-girl baskets and fake bouquets you can hear her shrill voice calling out behind you, “Hey! Getting your wallet?” but you continue to run: you are in survival mode.

You finally reach the door and pounce through it like a caged animal escaping its prison. The outside air slaps your face as you fall to your knees and weep in joy. You made it out alive… this time.

Then you realize you left your purse inside.

Here’s something I wrote recently for our online wedding site …

About the Bride and Groom (to-be)

Kristi and Chris met in the fall of 2009. Kristi’s company purchased a set of career videos from Chris’ company, and Chris was assigned as the producer of the project. Since Kristi was technically Chris’ client … he knew that one misinterpreted flirtation could pose some serious repercussions and might even cost him his job.

Obviously the stakes were high for Chris, but he took a chance when Kristi extended an invitation to a Cub’s game in Wrigleyville later that week. The “purpose” of her invitation was to thank Chris for his hard work and dedication to the project … but underneath it all, she just wanted an excuse to sit next to him in 90 degree heat (during a ball game she cared nothing about – and apparently he cared nothing about, either!). A brunch at Lula Cafe followed the sporting event the next day … and then, two painful months later, Kristi received two pounds of gouda cheese at her doorstep in Bloomington. The note: “To: Space Mouse From: Chris Weiher.” (If you want details on this bizarre note / exchange, please inquire at the wedding.)

“That’s the gift that keeps on giving!” Chris told her that evening over the phone. And he was right. After a series of “first dates,” the two became inseparable (at least, during the weekends). Unfortunately, the geographical distance between the two lovebirds made their left and right ventricles ache with longing. How long could they go on like this? The weeks dragged along and the two Skyped incessantly to make up for lost face-time.

Finally, in April of 2010, Kristi was able to convince her employer to let her move to Chicago and work remotely out of her apartment. She still has no idea how she was able to pull it off, but she has been forever grateful to her company since.

The following May 2011, Chris and Kristi moved into a Palmer Square apartment together. After three months of ceaseless laughter and fun under the same roof, both realized this ease of co-habitation was not common and thus a very good sign in terms of their romantic future together. After a few brief conversations on the matter, Chris decided to pop the question – but it had to be a complete surprise.

Chris and Kristi share a rather quirky sense of humor, so the ideal place to propose was obviously Gate B10 at the Midway Airport.

Kristi was on her way to New York City for a work function and Chris was coming along with her for a mini vacation … but, due to work constraints, Chris informed Kristi he would be coming to NYC on a later flight. Little did Kristi know … Chris had tickets on the same flight! Twenty minutes after she hopped into a cab to head to the airport, Chris was in his car on his way there as well. When Chris approached Kristi at Gate B10, obviously confusion ensued. Chris informed Kristi that she had forgotten something – her hair dryer – and that he had followed her to the airport to bring it to her. “They have hairdryers at the hotel!” Kristi said, still confused (and a tiny bit incredulous). He handed her the dryer (on one knee) …

“Well I figured you might need it now.”
“What? Why would I need it now?”
“I dunno … to dry your tears … of joy!?”

The ring was then revealed in the middle of the terminal. It was Wednesday, July 27 2011. And she said yes! So, that’s how we got here.

Chris and Kristi love to do everything together, from cooking both ordinary and unusual cuisine to listening to newfangled podcasts and offbeat music. Their best Sundays involve long bike rides around the city, Irv and Shelly’s Fresh Picks produce, Mom’s Pizza, Dexter OR True Blood OR Game of Thrones OR Woody Allen flick OR a fun documentary, a glass (or two) of wine and some bohemian popcorn with 7up/Orange juice mixers to wrap it all up.

The summer of 2011 was one to remember – the weather balmy and the laughter bountiful.

As we roll into a pile of crunchy leaves and wave goodbye, we bring along a trunk of memories that we will reflect upon with a swelling sensation of pleasure.

Just in case that trunk of memories falls off the back of my car on I90/I94 and bursts open like a walnut, splattering the summer’s fondest recollections on the pavement for traffic to smear and stampede, I figured I should note a few here for safekeeping.

So here they are, my fondest memories in an Ode to Summer 2011 …

1. Steve Martin and Martin Short - June 19

2. Logan Square Summer Concerts - June 23

3. Holy Hail Storm! - June 25

4. Pride Parade - June 26

5. Tour De Fat - July 16

6. Pitchfork - July 16

7. Millennium Park Picnic / Concert - July 25

8. Engagement - July 27

9. NYC - July 27, 28, 29

10. Beth and Nick Baby Shower - July 29

11. Houston - August 10

12. Diggers Ping Pong Champs - multiple dates

13. Feisty Badminton Matches - multiple dates</strong>

1. Zenni Optical – Getcha some swanky eyeglasses for the price of a bean burrito. (Unless you are legally blind without your contacts or specs, then it’s more like the price of 49 bean burritos. I can’t decide what I want more … neat eyeglasses or 49 delectable loaves of beans and cheese.) Credit: Bryn and Rachel

2. Irv and Shelly’s Fresh Picks – Live off the local organic lands without leaving the confines of your cave. Fresh produce can be delivered weekly, bi-weekly or monthly at a competitive price. Be aware that you don’t choose the produce, it chooses you. Ok, actually the season is the dictator in terms of the contents of each delivery. A handy description of every veggie/fruit is included so you can impress your friends by naming all edible material in their salad come suppertime. Credit: Cdubs

3. MapMyRun.com – Feeling saddlebaggie? Download this app to your phony device and take it with you whilst you practice your startled deer impression on the streets. It will track distance, speed/pace, time and calories burned. Then you can upload it to the website to track your progress. Make sure you check your privacy settings though – unless you want it posting your running business for the world to see via twitter and/or Facebook. Credit: moi.

4. Fleur – Good selection of unique flowers and plants in Logan Square. Please note that if the world laughs in flowers, you’re constantly the butt of the world’s jokes. Credit: Logan Circle

5. Urbanspoon.com – Looking for a place to eat tonight? Something casual? Something fun? Something toothsome? Something expensive? Something in your neighborhood? Something in his neighborhood? Go here. Credit: Google.

6. The Daily Beast – Too busy to read the news? Too ADHD to listen to NPR? Too lazy to care, but you’re worried you’ll be ridiculed if someone asks and you have no idea what is going on in the world? Use the Cheat Sheet. Works like a charm. Credit: moi.

7. Devour.com – How do people always seem to find these hilarious Youtube vids before you!? This site posts every golden video goose on the interwebs. Impress your friends and eliminate boredom and/or the weeknight blues. Credit: Cdubs.

James Earl Jones! I’m bored beyond belief! It’s Friday night and I’m sitting on the couch with my fat cat eating fat-free cool whip out of a bowl and reading The Daily Beast. My bud Tara is up for a visit tomorrow and I decided to stay in and recharge my batteries before her triumphant arrival.

So … I’m bored. Why not blog? The trouble is that I have nothing to blog about at the moment. Nothing is moving me tonight. The little writing tickle I typically get in my chest – that tiny urge that pokes me in the heart and sets my brain into bloggernerd mode – has apparently skipped away to Maifest in Lincoln Square, leaving me here ALONE and UNINSPIRED with only a vat of whipped cream drenched in my tears to keep me occupied.

Then I thought, let them eat blog! Meaning, why not let my readers blog for once? It isn’t as nerdy as it seems, really. It can be fun! I’ll make it easy by asking a series of general questions … and you can respond as you see fit. Answer any of the ten questions below or ask your own. Yeehaw!

OK, here are ten questions I’ve always wanted to ask my readers:

1. Do you ever eat cool whip out of a bowl?

2. Do you occasionally find the word maintenance difficult to spell?

3. Do you think Jewel’s flowers are just as nice as Fleurs selection? (And if you don’t know Fleur, just let me know what you think of Jewel’s flowers.)

4. Does a question ever pop into your head spontaneously and make you feel a little dense because you should know the answer? Then you can’t shake the question out of your skull … it sticks to your forehead and slowly eats away at your frontal lobe until the pain makes your nostrils sting and your eyes water. You try to brush it away with the back of your hand but you feel like everyone can see it … like a humongous new zit … everyone can see that you are uninformed and question your hygiene! But you are too proud and too embarrassed to admit your ignorance! So it continues to fester until you decide to just be an adult for once and find a quiet place to Google or Wiki it! THEN when you read the answer you think, “oh yeah, I knew that!” even if you sort of didn’t …!?! Me either.

5. Has anyone ever vividly described place/location and asked if you knew where it was, and even though you didn’t you replied “yeah, yeah!”? Explain.

6. Do you ever step out into a beautiful day and think, “If only I had an hour, a nice pair of gym shoes and an Enya cd”? (sub question: When you listen to Enya, do you replay parts of your life in your mind’s eye in a very dramatic fashion?)

7. Do you ever find yourself in a public space thinking, “what if I broke into song at this very moment?” or “what if I just kicked that guy in the toe for no apparent reason?” or “what if I took this grape soda in my hand, shook it up like spray paint and opened it with an eerie laugh … drenching everyone in line at Walgreens head to toe in purple stuff?” or “Can that woman read my mind? What about that baby, can he/she hear my thoughts?” or “If I collapsed from a lethal bee sting right now … would that guy save me?”

9. Have you ever, right before drifting off to sleep, conjured up a perfectly feasible idea and thought to yourself, “Now, why didn’t I think of that before tonight? I’m going to do that as soon as I wake!” But when you roll out of bed in the morning and reflect back on the concept or plan you think, “Uhhh … did I eat raw bacon last night?”

10. Have you ever wanted to learn how to play trumpet just so you can burst into your friend / significant other’s room at 6 a.m. and abruptly play the Morning Call song? Alternative: if someone ever woke you up to the Morning Call song via trumpet at 6 a.m., would you forgive him/her?

I look forward to your responses.