vacation – Page 2 – Britt Skrabanek

Chicago in 7.5 Hours

That’s a bunch of BS, really. There’s no way to experience this skyscraper wonderland in less than eight hours.

What we commonly call Chicago comes from the Native American Chicagoua, a word often debated as meaning either garlic or onion. (And, you thought you’d never learn anything on this blog. Shame on you.)

Either way, it’s the stinky veggie we all tend to love.

Normally, I’m the non-tourist type. Mr H. and I blend in with the locals, keep a low profile, and leave the fanny packs at home. Kidding, kidding. We do not own fanny packs.

So, last Saturday I gave Chicago in a day the old college try.

My super awesome sister was visiting from North Carolina, and it was her first adventure in the mid-West. We braved the back and forth trip to the city via Amtrak from Milwaukee.

And, we got down with our tourista selves.

In fact, we may have gone a bit overboard with our tourista selves…

Tourist Trap #1 – Navy Pier (The Unapologetic Bastard)

The Navy Pier is one of those places you’ve got to go to once…and, probably only once. This picture was taken first thing in the morning just before the salivating mobs invaded. There may be other things to see there, but I couldn’t tell you. My sister grabbed some goofy souvenirs and we freaking ran.

Tourist Trap #2 – Chicago River Cruise (The Hopeless Romantic)

Ah, the Chicago River cruise. That fleeting adventure I could never embark upon during my previous trips, because the damn river was either frozen or green. You’ll drop a handful of bucks to take an architecture tour, but as you can see from the pictures, it’s lovely. Absolutely lovely.

Tourist Trap #3 – Chicago History Museum (The Kooky Nerd)

The Chicago History Museum is pretty low on the totem pole as far as museum popularity is concerned in the Windy City. I’m more of a history gal, so this was my kind of place. The coolest thing was the L train from 1893, where you can actually go inside, have a seat, and hang out. I took the interactive option a little bit too far throughout the joint as you can see.

Tourist Trap #4 – Millennium Park (The Shiny Exhibitionist)

Millennium Park is Chicago’s very own Central Park. As this was our last stop on our tourist assault, it was refreshing to see both natives and rubberneckers alike kicking back, enjoying the space, and playing with the Cloud Gate sculpture. (I called it the shiny turd. But, that’s just me.)

Britt’s Chicago Summer Tips

Don’t even think about driving. Walk it, cab it, or ride the “L”. All three will likely give you monster bruises, but you’ll keep your sanity.
Don’t assume the crosswalk is a safe haven. That part about not driving in the city also applies to who’s driving…the natives. They will mow your tourist butt down, so move it along.
Don’t look up while you’re walking. Yes, the buildings are incredible and they soar right into the heavens. Just don’t become a permanent member up there when you wander off the curb with a silly grin on your upturned face.
Don’t wear anything that chafes. Midwest summers are humid as hell! Wear something loose that you won’t regret later, if you know what I mean (wink, wink).

How about you guys? Have you ever tried squeezing every damn thing you can think of in one day of travel?

So you want to take a media vacay

Often the only time we disconnect from it all is when we go on vacation. And some of us don’t even do that.

You know who you are. During your last tropical getaway, you broadcasted every moment on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram while blogging about all the major highlights.

For those of you out there giving the vacation play-by-play, step away from your computing device and chill.

For those that have the sanity to take a break when you’re supposed to be on a break, I ask you this: Why not do it without the plans and the passport, without the smelly airport and the strip search at security?

Take a media vacay. Seriously.

Recently, I took two whole months off from social media and blogging. I still read emails, used the internet for research, and kept up with my favorite blogs (minus my usual comments and likes).

I was feeling overwhelmed, flailing in a flashy sea of information. You know…life on crack.

Another perfect marriage proposal that was presumably imperfect, aw man…the one that never stops complaining about work, never-ending birthdays of people I barely know, that sad chick battling a cold and showing off her mountain of snot rags…eww, the usual ruffling of political feathers, a picture of somebody’s cute grandma, a popular article on why Splenda is killing people, the guy that thinks he would set the country straight if he were the president, ooh…that looks like a delicious smoothie recipe.

And, cue straitjacket.

So I did the closest thing I could to escaping to a deserted island. And I found something.

Focus. Unadulterated focus.

See that headstand pic up there? I’ve been trying to pull that baby off for a year. During my hiatus, I not only floated up, I stayed until I decided to come down.

This told me all I needed to know. And while your idea of pure focus may not be a headstand, it was for me.

So, I invite you to go find your focus. I made you a little checklist, so you don’t forget anything on your trip.

Pick a time on purpose Finish an important project, decompress after a stressful time, or simply extend the positive effects of a vacation by “staying away” a little longer.
Tell people Let others know, so they don’t think something terrible happened to you (death, divorce, etc.). Bloggers, write a post and embed a countdown on your site to let your readers know what you’re doing, why you’re doing it, and when you’ll return.
Cut yourself off To avoid any accidental relapses, remove convenient social media apps from your smartphone and turn off email notifications. All of them.
Change your routine Cherish the new minutes you’ve added to your life. Commit to that morning meditation finally, see what your spouse and/or kids are up to, play way more with your pets, take a long walk, or simply sit in silence. Enjoy.

Just like any vacation, make it your own.

Fueling the fire is something we humans tend to do. Especially in our techy times, we want to experience everything better and faster.

Just before I signed off for two months, my heart felt heavy as I began to second guess myself. Then, I read one final comment from my great blogger pal Jessica over at Notes of Nomads.

“There is more to life than simply increasing its speed.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi. Stop and smell those roses, Britt. We’ll be waiting for you when you return. x

Then, I smiled and logged out.

P.S. It was one of the best vacations…ever.

What about you guys? Have you ever taken a media vacay? And, those thinking about taking one, are you gonna give it a go or what? : )

Chicago: Beyond the Shamrock Shenanigans (And Dessert)

I don’t know why, but one thought came to me after my recent trip to Chicago…crème brûlée.

Perhaps because it’s complicated, rare, and amazing.

You can try it over and over again, but each time you crack its intricate surface, you’ve barely even started to devour the insane richness beneath.

I didn’t eat any creme brulee in Chicago last weekend for Mr. H’s birthday celebration. That’s because I ate the majority of his birthday cheesecake the night before we left, for breakfast the morning we left, and the moment we got home the next afternoon.

To say I have a love for dessert is an understatement. Without remorse, I devoured my spouse’s leftover birthday cake like it was mine…all mine!

In my defense, he totally had the first piece.

So, where was I? Creme brulee.

Mmm…creme brulee.

Sorry, where was I really?

Ah, yes. The windy city!

The other day I ranted about our St. Patty’s experience. Be sure to check out Chicago: In the Throes of Shamrock Shenanigans if you want to read what not to do for St. Patty’s.

Unless you’re the public lush enthusiast, then by all means…go!

Have no fear. I’m all done bitching about the clover clad half-wits. Moving right along!

So, once the drunkards stumbled back to their emerald caves, the city was manageable again.

This was my fourth visit to Chicago – a few were last minute “Whoo, whoo! Let’s go clubbing in Chicago tonight!” trips, and the other one was spent in Bucktown/Wicker Park visiting a super awesome friend of mine.

(Love Bucktown/Wicker Park by the way!)

But, this particular adventure was all about downtown.

Chicago is a big ass city, guys. Pick a neighborhood and get in there. Don’t bother seeing “it all” because you totally can’t.

GETTIN’ PLACES

Thinking of driving? Imagine this.

After countless hours in traffic jams at unimaginable times, followed by barreling down the wrong way of a one way street that came out of nowhere, you finally arrive at your destination. After your tenth lap around the block searching for a parking space, you think you finally see one.

But, guess what? It’s a mirage, and your ass is parked on the sidewalk and an opportunist is now selling souvenirs from your trunk.

For crying out loud, take some public transportation – the “L” is a guaranteed good time. I even sat across from a questionably alive man during my first ride. Give it a whirl!

And, a word of advice while walking around. Don’t use Starbucks or Walgreens as landmarks because they are on every freaking block, and let’s face it…they all look the same.

CRASHIN’ PLACES

We stayed at the W City Center and it was pretty perfect. An eight minute walk west gets you to Union Station. An eight minute walk east gets you to Michigan Avenue.

Centrally located, indeed.

Because it was Mr. H’s birthday I called ahead that morning and requested a sweet ass view.

I worked for a big name chain hotel for a couple of years right out of high school…in the trenches of guest services. When there’s a special occasion, don’t be shy.

Ask for a little extra, but ask nicely.

We ended up on the top floor with this rad view…

My only complaint with our hotel room was the vent in the bathroom, and it’s kind of a weird story.

Apparently, because we were on the top floor, we were very intimate with the roof top vent. As such, every time we turned on the bathroom light it sounded like a space ship was landing.

And even better, when you gazed up bravely from the toilet to check out what was going on, a strange black thing moved in a slow manner.

Between the spooky ruckus and the intimidating shadow, I whispered a desperate prayer for the aliens to leave me in peace each time I sat on the pot.

And, they did.

PLAYIN’ PLACES

Any die hard tourist would look at our weekend romp and say “Shame on you.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah we thought about going to some attractions – specifically the Museum of Science and Industry or the Art Institute.

But, we were only there for twenty-four hours. So, Mr. H and I did what we always do when we arrive somewhere…we strutted.

We tend to strut.

Even though I’m one of those super organized control freaks just about everywhere else in my life, when I travel I like to wing it. And Chicago is one of the best places to get lost.

Remember that creme brulee opener? Every spectacular building stood on display like one of those dessert trays in a fancy restaurant.

You know the kind, where you drool over every single delight and you can’t choose your favorite.

Like this one. How about this dark chocolate Burberry building with rainbow sprinkles and crisscrossed icing?

Or how about wandering into the old Marshall Field’s – now masquerading as a Macy’s – and hurting your neck staring at this ceiling treat that looks like wedding cake you want to swim in…

When you wander around Chicago, you can sample every tasty building with your eyes.

And, it tastes good…I take that back…damn good.

So, we gingerly cracked the surface of Milwaukee’s famous neighbor, the city of Chicago, our honking piece of creme brulee. But, what we tasted was perfectly charred and just the right amount of sweet.

We’ll be back again soon for more.

chicago jazz hands — I couldn’t resist some Jazz hands. Come on…it’s Chicago!

Chicago: In the Throes of Shamrock Shenanigans

New Year’s Eve at Times Square in New York City definitely comes to mind…and I never ever had a desire to be there.

Why, you ask? Because it looks like my worst nightmare.

I like to get loose every once in a while – just not with everybody, especially amateurs. This is something I’ve always known without previously experiencing such a hellish ordeal firsthand until…

Chicago. St. Patty’s weekend. Cringe.

Nobody drugged me, tied me up, and strapped me to a bright green party bus covered in leprechauns that said, “Honk if you’re after my lucky charms”.

I went there voluntarily, on my own accord. (Damnit.)

So, how did this happen? How in the hell did I end up in the second most popular U.S. city for St. Patty’s Day debauchery?

Saturday was Mr. H’s birthday. (Mr. H is the artist formerly known as hubby.)

We needed a getaway, and luckily for us Milwaukeeans, Chicago is a hop, skip, and a jump away. The logistics of St. Patty’s Day didn’t resonate with us as we were arriving the day before, and we wrongly assumed we would be safe.

We seriously thought Chicago would be romantic.

My book I’m currently working on, The Bra Game, takes place in 1950s Chicago. And what better way to do research than to immerse yourself in the chosen setting? I imagined myself pointing at a beautiful monstrosity of a building and jotting down the surrounding street names just so I could include the moment in a future scene.

I seriously thought Chicago would be inspirational.

Romantic? Inspirational? Oh, how naive I was.

Twenty-somethings ran amuck like it was their last day on earth and the only way to ease the pain was to drink everything in sight.

Thankfully, I didn’t see any of them leaning over the side and lapping up the frigid, green river…

In fact, I believe their day started very differently than ours.

First and foremost, we showered. We ate breakfast. We dressed in chic outfits, which were warm and practical.

They rolled out of bed with glee…no time for cleanliness. They guzzled their cheap beer breakfasts. They layered on their emerald adornments: antennas, tutus, glitter, hats, and foul t-shirts.

Most did not bother with coats, therefore frozen arses were out in full force. And it was bloody cold, you guys.

Cold.

These dense hooligans wandered into you like it was acceptable, stepped on your feet for sport, walked in front of cars to look cool, and picked fights in the middle of busy intersections even though they threw wimpy punches.

Now I’m actually a wee bit Irish, and I’m half Czech. I know how to pour a proper beer and I know how to keep my shit together.

I found out that my great-grandmother’s last name was McSperitt.

And, Britt McSperitt was one pissed off lassie.

The shouting and belching echoed through the city like someone just learning to play bagpipes, overshadowing the intermittent hum of the “L” and the rhythmic tooting of the buses with the most horrendous sounds.

When you’re worried about some clover clad half-wit spewing on your arm, the romance is gone…long gone. And, any daydreaming about my lovable novel was replaced by a basic need for survival…survival of the fittest.

But, something magical happened after we found refuge in a pizzeria for lunch and the parade fizzled out.

The windy city blew the lightweights away to their questionable hostels and their stained apartments, to either land spread eagle on the floor, profess their undying love to the toilet, or in many cases…both.

They looked like this at Union Station the next day…

And I, Britt McSperitt, lived to tell this spirited limerick of shamrock shenanigans in Chicago.

Stay tuned for the second part of my weekend trip…Chicago: Beyond the Shamrock Shenanigans.

Laughing on the job

I just had to reblog this amazingly fun post from my blogger pal Aneesa over at “Live. Explore. Learn. Remember“.

I love every student/teacher interaction, but here are some of my faves…

“Oh Teacher! Your hair is like Lion King!”
“Teacher, are you married? If not, don’t worry. Every Jack has his Jill.”
Me: “Why are you a star?” Student: “Because I have all the bling bling!”

Too many adorable moments not to share with you all. Happy Monday!