Newlywed Ruminations: Everything’s Old In This House!

15 03 2011

I’m not sure how it happened. You see, everything that we owned when we moved in together seemed top notch. Our couches were great. The bedroom sets merged seamlessly. Our plates and pots and pans just kind of went together.

But now everything is falling apart all at once. The leather couch is kind of unraveling at the seams. The dresser drawers are broken. One of the coffee cups cracked straight down the side after the hubby put coffee in it last night.

What’s going on? Well, far as I can tell, everything is old.

We didn’t buy new furniture when we got married. We just combined two households and were happy that our colors matched. Yeah, we thought, cream and purple go together. Sure. Absolutely. And it works in our living room. Really, it does. That is, it worked up until the couch started coming apart at the seams just after Christmas. And suddenly all our forks up and walked away. We only have three left. Where did they go? Did the Littles take them?

And now that an extended visit from the in-laws is looming, I am really, truly, this-time-for-real motivated to search out replacements for the most obvious of our old-ness: the forks, the couch and probably that dresser. Because I’m not sure if super glue will work this time. ;)

We thought we were so lucky, upon marriage day, that we had such great furniture and didn’t need to spend any of our money outfitting ourselves with new stuff. But that was 2.5 years ago and at that point, both sets of furniture were eight years old and had – at least in my case – traveled from Miami to Tampa to Boston to Chicago. By the time my poor little purple couch was lugged up its sixth set of stairs, it just kinda started to take on a permanent gangsta lean – though the fabric looks just fab.

It’s been a long time since I looked for furniture. I took a turn through some websites today and found myself sticker shocked. 3K for a couch!?! What in the hell.. I suppose if I watched The Price is Right I would have been prepared for the prices. Oh wait. That was the Ralph Lauren website. Maybe I should aim lower.

Anyhoo… the newlywed saga continues. Just when we got our stuff all settled and figured out where we like to sit, we need to jettison the couch! And we have to find new forks. This seems like a mundane task, but when I went to look at forks I became overwhelmed and had to leave the store. Too many types, too many prices, too many makes and models. And most of them were either oddly squared or had long, sharp tines that scare me and could injure me if I wash dishes the wrong way.

Somehow we/I missed the whole shopping for forks/couches/housewares situation when we got married. Shoot. Missed opportunity. Now I finally understand why there’s so many home decorating magazines on the market. They are made for people like me.





Newlywed Ruminations: Stil struggling with the name change

18 02 2011

I am officially Adrienne Gibbs, but it’s still taking me a good minute to catch all my identification up to my new name. Basically I need a day off of work to go and wait in line all over the city so I can update the passport, driver’s license, library card and all that good stuff. Then there’s the credit cards, the magazine subscriptions, the bank accounts and ack, the mortgage.

Guys don’t think it’s a big deal, but it’s a HUGE deal to change everything – especially if you work full time. I’ve already spent hours on the phone with credit card companies, trying to get things flipped. Half of them are. Half of them aren’t. My goal is to have it all flipped over by the end of summer.

‘Course the big issue is buying plane tickets. The name on the credit card and the driver’s license needs to exactly match the name of the person who is flying. Oy vey. What if you buy your airline ticket and then change your driver’s license? Well, you can’t fly. So the flight thing is 90% of why I can’t change over yet.

The good news is that I’m used to being called Mrs. Gibbs. Call me and I’ll answer to Gibbs rather than looking around for someone else named Gibbs. My mother has started calling me Adrienne Gibbs and finally my cousins are getting used to my new name. It’s been two and a half years, so I guess it takes a minute or two to get used to the change.

I’m almost there! My deadline is September for all these changes. I can’t do much before that because of plane tickets that were already purchased. It’s too bad that all the places I need to go aren’t all in the same building! That would make the change easier to swallow.





Newlywed Ruminations: Let there be light!

17 02 2011

I just knew that I was doing the damn thing with my outfit.

Hot Bebe dress. Sexy purple tights. Come hither, Prince-esque high-heeled stiletto boots draped in suede.

My husband agreed. We grabbed our coats and went out to the hottest sushi spot in Chicago – ready for a few mugs of sake, dragon rolls and oysters on the half shell. We were all set until I went to the restroom at the restaurant.

It was bright in there. That’s when I realized that my tights weren’t purple. They were olive green.

Mortified, I wondered aloud, ‘how the F*** did that happen?”

I quickly peeled out of the offensive tights, still trying to keep the outfit together. This dress was purple, gray and pink leopard print. Olive? That was just tacky.

Once we got home, I realized that my bedroom light was the culprit. It was a yellowy tint that cast a yellowy shadow over everything – also explaining why I couldn’t apply makeup in my bedroom. The light also has a glass ball over it that is thick and, well, yellow. So, the two 40-watt bulbs in there weren’t doing ish for my room with its high ceilings – especially when you put a thick yellow glass cover over the light.

I’d hated that light from the time that we moved in and I’d always threatened to change it.

All this led to an interesting conversation at the light store because so many of the ceiling fixtures were dim! The ceiling fixture dude,  James, said that the energy crises had led to the manufacturing of ceiling fixtures and lamps that only operate on 40-watt bulbs. The old days of 75-watts are gone, he said. And, he added, I was about the 50th person this week who came in to find a brighter light.

I was also about the 70th person to some in and complain about the opaque light covers. Why on earth would you make a ceiling light that is dimmer than a rainy day?

I’m not sure when the old-school light bulbs stopped getting manufactured. But now that I think about it, all my lightbulbs  are either “green” or 40 watts – which is why I’ve had to purchase floor lamps to supplement the overhead light in every room in my house. It’s tough to see in my kitchen when I cook! So aggravating. And, I hate track lights, so I need another solution for that room. But I digress…

What is the point of making low-wattage lamps to save energy when you need to use eight such lamps to light your room? Where is the savings here?

As of today, my bedroom has a brand new light and ceiling fan fixture by Hampton Bay. I spent hours scouring the light store for a funky, down-facing light with at least four bulbs of 60 watts each. The fixture came with milky opaque light covers. I switched those out for clear light covers with a nubby texture. My cousin James did the install.

I’m happy that there is light. I can see my makeup, my clothes and tell the difference between olive and purple.

Moral of the story? New homeowners: don’t wait to switch out something that you don’t like about your home. Just do it so that you don’t wind up mismatched on a date with your spouse two years later. ;)





City Stories: The wrong cab…

9 02 2011

I got in a cab yesterday. At least, I thought it was a cab. To be honest, I was out there looking for a cab for about five minutes, the temperature was -3 and I was wearing a skirt.

A few cabs passed me by at first. They had passengers. Then, one backed up from down the street in from of a nearby college. He let down his back window and said “need a cab young lady?”

I was chilly so I jumped in the first cab that I saw. So far so good. 820 S. Michigan, I said. I’m going back to work. Well, two blocks into the cab ride I notice that the driver is listening to Between the Sheets by Marvin Gaye. Then I notice that the meter is not a meter at all, but a brightly lit radio face plate. Then I notice that there are no cab numbers inside the cab. No “welcome to Chicago” stickers, no medallion number and no little TV that tells you want to do and where to eat in Chicago. Plus, there’s no bullet proof glass between me and the driver.

This is unusual as most of the cabbies here are immigrants and usually, no matter the country of origin, NPR is usually what’s playing on the radio. And, my NYC friends, Chicago does not have jitneys.

I also didn’t have either one of my cell phones. Oy vey.

I jump out the “cab” at the next stop light. I toss him some dollars and run skip away. As he pulls off, I see a handicapped license plate and I don’t see that trademark “TX” on the plates that marks a registered cab.

Shaken, I start to think that I almost became one of those chicks who is the subject of Without A Trace. You know how we’re always wondering how smart, upwardly mobile, newlywed, pretty, happily engaged or on-the-cusp women sometimes disappear? And their friends say “Oh , she wouldn’t have left her husband or her babies or her mom.” And their coworkers say, “Such and such loved her job and she was so good at it.”

Well, I thinking that “such and such” could’ve been me. As I think back to the cab ride, I should’ve known something was up before I got in.

The R&B music was the first tip off. The lack of interior cab artifacts was the second.

My twitter friends said that someone must’ve been praying for me last night, since I was able to walk away from the cab. I won’t dispute that. I walked away, I’m not the subject of a Cold Case TV show and I will never get in a cab again without making sure it “reads right” on the inside.





City Stories: Blizzard Rescue.. Glory Be!

5 02 2011

I’m sure you read my post from midnight. Well, here’s my post from 8:30 p.m. the same day.

At around 4 p.m. I emailed my alderman and asked if she knew when we might be able to expect snow removal since the main roads were clear. Also, I pointed out, the city was now removing snow from sidewalks in Grant Park and from the sidewalks along a bus-less boulevard near my house , so if they had time to remove sidewalk snow in little-used areas (for the winter, that is,) perhaps they could come down my street.

Alderman said that the cleanup crew was scheduled to appear “today.”  About a half hour later, I heard a beep-beep-beep – that sound you hear when construction trucks roll in reverse. I pulled on my boots and went out back. Glory Be! A backhoe! In my alley!

The city said it would be clearing alleys for garbage pickup, but they said the alleys would be cleared ONLY AFTER the streets were clear. So while I was grateful for the alley clearance, I wondered how any of us would actually get to the alley given that our streets weren’t clear. The backhoe dude stopped to chat with me. He said that he’d been clearing alleys in my area all day but hadn’t seen one snow plow. He’d also seen no salt trucks.

And since he’s pushing a powerful, yet smaller, type of equipment, he said things would go faster if a snow plow got the big mounds while he cleaned up other, harder-to-reach areas.

I couldn’t agree more.

This dude said he was sent down from the Ohare Airport area. He said he wondered why no one had been over to the Bronzeville area yet when the streets were wide enough for a plow. I wondered that too. He went ahead and cleared the alley, but said he thought it a shame that garbage trucks would get clearance to drive before the tax-payers, who have to go to work too.

We talked a bit about Harley Davidsons and Mercedes and BMWs and I got out his way, so he could work. I hit up 311 again, and then I emailed a few city folk. And then I emailed my alderman again. She said they probably wouldn’t get to the actual street tonight and to hit her back on Monday.

Well, dude from Ohare? He just showed up about 15 minutes ago to clear the street. He tried mightily, but that backhoe only made a teeny dent in what needs to be done on this block. He was out there for an hour clearing just one corner.

I wish he’d started on my end of the block!

Ah well. He put in an hour and then took a break.

I do live on what the mayor would describe as an “arterial” street. It’s not a major avenue though it does generate a ton of business traffic. So I didn’t expect snow removal immediately. But in the pre-blizzard past, the city has overlooked plowing this street. It’s something my neighbors and I have discussed with streets and sanitation before. I live in an odd area that’s very nearly between districts, so usually person A thinks that person B did the work and vice versa.

I feared that in this snowstorm, the same situation would occur.

But Mr. Backhoe apparently worked some snow magic.

Honestly, I think my block might not have gotten attention until I asked Mr. backhoe if there was anything he could do to get a snowplow on the block. I’m glad he eyeballed for himself so he could see the issues and formulate an action plan. He didn’t just tell me that everybody else had snow, so just “be patient.”

In fact, he said that he had already cleared north side alleys before being told to come and clear clogged up south side arterials. He’s also white.

Anyhoo. We bonded over the Harley in my garage and he decided to help a sista out.

I’m watching him now, out the window. He’s working it out. Everyone’s on the street, trying to check out Mr. Backhoe and also trying to get their cars out the way so he can clean this street.

Wish I could give him a beer, but he’s driving heavy machinery. So, I’ll just give him my own kind of bloggers salute.

 





City Stories: The Blizzard of 2011

2 02 2011

It all started at around 8 a.m. on Tuesday. The wind started to blow. The temperature started to drop. I walked to my El stop. I got downtown. Then I walked six blocks into 30 mile per hour winds to get into the office. I decided that I didn’t need to go to the gym that day.

In the middle of my staff meeting, the building started to shake. The wind was gusting down Michigan Avenue around 50 miles an hour. Ebony is very, very close to Lake Michigan. Around 2 p.m., we were told to pack it up and go home. I tried to call a cab. No go. So I had to walk.

Interestingly, Fox TV had sent me a frozen pizza from Lou Malnati’s. I tried to take it home, thinking it’d be good blizzard food, but ultimately I had to give it up. Too tough to walk in the wind with a big old box full of dry ice. My boss gave me a lift to the El stop. I gave her that pizza. We saw an old lady with a cane holding on to the corner of a building, trying not to get blown down. I had to walk up two flights of stairs and just hang on to the stair railings so I wouldn’t get blown over into the electric train tracks. (The El is an elevated train that is a few stories above street level with open air stations with no walls.)

Big men were holding down the teenage girls, so they wouldn’t fly away. It was 3:30 p.m. I’m pretty sure no one knew each other. But no one wanted to get electrocuted. So we all kinda just held hands. Oddly sweet.

The wind chill was now 0 degrees.

It took me 40 minutes to get home. I had to stop in a subshop to get out the wind after getting off the train. The ice was chipping away at my skin. I wasn’t cold but my face hurt.

The hubby stopped by my mom’s house before getting home. Moms was cool. He went to Harold’s Chicken, and got some water. He made it home by 5:30 p.m. The wind chill was now -5. We live near the lake.

I conducted an interview with a rapper. You’ll read about THAT soon.

The Thundersnow started. The sky turned pink, then purple, then orange, then pink. It was nighttime and yet outside, everything was pink. Then the Thunder and lightning started. It looked like the lightning hit the snow and traveled down the falling snow as it fell. No one was outside. The power went out. Came back on. Went out. Came on. Satellite went out. Internet went out. Even the water in the toilet started chugging on itself and swirling – all by itself.

The fire department announced they were using snow mobiles. The public schools were closed. Everyone braced and talked about Chicago’s Blizzard of 99 and the Blizzard of 67. My father remembered it like it was yesterday. I remembered being at Northwestern University during the ’99 blizzard. New Yorkers tried to talk smack but truthfully, Chicago gets colder and wetter. It’s the Midwest. This storm is bigger too. Our winters last longer.

The wind picked up. The city closed Lake Shore Drive. The snow fell for two more hours. The people on the Drive were still stuck. By midnight, they were still stuck. By 1 a.m., they were walking home. One of those walkers couldn’t figure out what was land and what was lake. He stepped into Lake Michigan. Drowned. Or froze. Or both. The waves were 30 feet high.

By 2 a.m. I couldn’t see outside my windows. So I went to sleep.

This morning, at 7 a.m., here’s what happened to my car.

My car is there... somewhere

And my truck? All but gone.

Where's the truck?

Note that my fence is six feet tall. And yet here, it looks two feet tall..

It’s now 11:54 a.m. The snow has kicked up again. The streets are not clear. Nobody is outside. The wind chill is 30 below zero. There are still 300 BMWs, Audis and Maybachs stranded on Lake Shore Drive. I have one dumb ass neighbor who is collecting bad snow karma as I type. (Follow my twitter timeline for more on THAT fool.)

What’s next? Well, I have work to do – computer work. No one in this house is going anywhere.





Newlywed Ruminations: Recession proof dating…

29 01 2011

According to Def Jam Rapstar, I am apparently an “off the chain” rapper. This is interesting to me because though I try mightily to imitate Twista, I simply can’t rap fast enough to keep up with him. I’m amazed that the game rates me as Off the Chain when it comes to his songs. I’m pretty good at anything by Tribe, Diddy, BIG, Drake and Run DMC. Not so good at Lil Wayne and Soulja Boy Tell’m. (Though to be honest, I just run out of breath on Soulja boy.. trying to hold a off-key “swag OOOOOOONNNNNNNNN” is tough for me because I want to change the pitch SO damn bad.)

Lil Wayne isn’t spitting anything difficult to imitate, but the omission of the curse words throws me off a bit. And then I just stop rapping because I get so engrossed in the videos.

The Gibbsman actually sounds like Busta Rhymes, so it’s pretty fun when we do Scenario. But neither of us can freestyle, so the battle part of the game? We’ll probably both lose at that.

All this to say, The Gibbsman and I have a lot of fun playing together. Sometimes it’s Tekken. Other times it’s Rachet and Clank. Often I watch him play NBA 2K11. Often he watches me swing swords and fight dragons with the Legend of Zelda or the Lord of the Rings. The games change week to week. The feelings don’t. We have fun with each other.

Someone asked me what enjoyment we could possibly get by playing these games. Well, it’s winter and we live in Chicago. There is still a recession going on.  The average movie in Chicago costs about $12 per adult and about $25 to park your car. Meanwhile, cable is like $60 a month and the Redbox offers movies for $1 a night. A drink at the bar costs $10.50 but a bottle of vodka costs $18. When you start to average it all out, it makes more sense to stay home, pop in a game, watch a DVD and mix your own drink. Sometimes this can make for a great date.

Plus, just watching TV can be kind of boring. It’s more fun to try and kill a dragon while your husband throws pillows at you. It creates a 3-D kind of experience and burns more calories than just sitting on the couch with the Wii remote.

Other recession proof date ideas:

- free ice skating at your city rink

- snow ball fights on the beach near Lake Michigan

- oddly, visiting Sam’s Club and making a date out of eating lunch after shopping

- Thai restaurants are tasty, can be healthy and are always, always affordable.

- Any kind of karaoke video game.

Got any more ideas? Feel free to share!

‘Course, we do go out. But not every night.





Newlywed Ruminations: Good vibes only on your invite list…

26 01 2011

“It’s my wedding, and I don’t want anyone there who has called me a hussy.” – The Office

Art imitates life imitates art. The lady on The Office didn’t want anyone mean to her at her wedding, and I totally understand. I wanted the same thing.

My wedding guest list was vetted and vetted again, erasing all people who have been mean, ornery or didn’t believe in the sanctity of marriage. There was no space in the church for folks who hated God, hated religion, hated me or hated the concept of marriage. If you felt that way, that’s fine. You just weren’t invited to the nuptials. Good vibes are a must on the wedding day.

I know of a person who this week uninvited a friend to her wedding because the friend told her that she’ll wind up getting divorced anyway. Said “friend” is no longer on the guest list and was angry because she got dropped. She complained that she was treated rudely.  However, the “friend” told the bride-to-be that she should prepare for divorce. That too, was rude. The D word just isn’t necessary when someone is excitedly discussing their marriage.

Brides-to-be! Time to put sour folks out of your life. Need some help? Ask me. ;)





Newlywed Ruminations: Martin Luther King Jr. and Coretta Scott get married…

17 01 2011

I love wedding stories. Don’t you?

Dr. King wed Ms. Scott on June 18, 1953, in front of her parent’s house.

The day went by quickly, but not the preparations. It took Scott six months to actually say yes to King’s proposal. The Marion, GA wedding, attended by about 350, included the best and brightest from Atlanta and nearby rural Alabama.

-

The Rev. Martin Luther King Sr. performed the ceremony, during which he did not use the part of the vow that required a woman to “obey” her husband. This slight editing of the vows was Scott’s idea. Afterward, the couple went back to Boston, where they both finished their degrees. Scott, who was musically inclined, earned a degree in music while her husband earned his degree in theology.
-
The two met each other because of a mutual friend up in Boston. At the time King was looking for a wife, and Scott was not looking for a husband. King was very taken by Scott’s singing. They often went for walks in Roxbury, in Boston. (I actually wrote a fuller story about this in The Boston Globe in 2006…)
-
On a personal note, I used to live in Boston, and I would frequently walk by the apartment building where the Kings started their life together. I know what the city is like now, and I can only imagine what it was like then: two black people, married, attractive, attending university in the Bean. Oh, the Irish in Southie must’ve been HOT about that.
-
What’s more, both the Kings were improving themselves and earning higher degrees. They didn’t wait to get married until they were “finished.” They got married before they were finished. I often think this is the key to a strong marriage – making sure that there is something left for both of you to do after saying “I do.”




Football and Newlywed Ruminations: NFL Theme song and my wedding…

16 01 2011

Watching this Bears/Seahawks playoff game brought up the conversation of all the various NFL theme songs. Each network has their own song. And, each night has its own song too. Sunday night football has a different song than Monday night football. ESPN has a different joint than Fox, which has a different song than CBS. And of course, the NFL proper has its own song.

The Gibbsman and I chose ESPN’s Monday Night Football song as our official wedding reception song. As the announcer announced “Mr. and Mrs. Eric Gibbs,” the deejay (DJ I.N.C. of the Chi) played the Monday night football anthem. And, the crowd went wild!

All the Gibbsman’s friends started hooting and hollering, and, as we walked down the marble steps into the reception area, we started chanting: “We da best! We da best!” (Pats humor, get with it!)

It was a great way to kick off a party that didn’t end until two days later.

Anyhoo… Here are all the songs. Click and listen. Which one is your fav?

ESPN

CBS

FOX

NBC

NFL Network








Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 2,446 other followers