A Day in the Life of a Soul Star...

I have a random observation/ statement that I want to make sure I mention before I forget... When I tell Chicagoans that I'm from California, the first question they always ask me is... WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO MOVE TO CHICAGO?! Seriously, EVERYONE has asked me that question. Even people who have never been to California. Is California really perceived as the best state in this great big country? Great enough that if you're from there, you're supposed to stay there, work there, raise a family there, and never leave? Maybe it is. But I'm not accepting that theory without doing my own research.

Happy Friday, everyone! Anyone that knows me knows that I can be EXTREMELY picky when it comes to hair stylists. If you're late within my first 3 appointments with you, I will NOT come back. If I feel like you're not concerned about the health of my hair, I won't come back. If I feel like you don't style it any better than I would, I won't come back. If I'm not comfortable in the shop, I won't come back. My admitted "pickiness" is the reason that I usually go through at least 4 or 5 stylists (in each city that I live) before I find my go-to stylist. Since I've been in Chicago, I've been rocking my curly fro. It's pretty easy to maintain and most importantly, it can withstand the humidity, winds or unexpected showers that I'm starting to become accustom to in this city. The fro is fine, but I'm ready to try something new. And thus begins the process of finding a stylist in a brand new city. Not only a stylist, but a stylist t...

Congratulations to me—I just had my first “I love Chicago” moment. My life has forever been changed…by a red velvet truffle from Mariano’s on South Halsted in the West Loop. I’ve been in Chicago for exactly 2 weeks. I haven’t done as much as I would have liked yet, but I’ll get there. Today at lunchtime, 2 of my coworkers asked me if I wanted to go to Mariano’s. I asked what Mariano’s was and one replied, “it’s like a supermarket.” The idea didn’t sound too appealing, so I hesitated and fumbled through a couple of excuses as to why I was too busy. After she blatantly informed me that I “got nothing better to do,” (how did she know?!) I reluctantly decided to tag along. I pass by this supermarket every day on my way to work—the Number 8 bus drops me off right in front of the gray building every morning. It looks large and has fancy lettering, but that’s how you can describe several buildings in downtown Chicago. Upon entering the 2-story building, I soon realized that this was not ...