photo friday: what’s so funny?

17 Apr

Peace and Love

I’m in Miami for the second time in as many months, and while it’s not my favorite city in the world, I appreciate the sentiment they display for people as they fly in, out, or through Miami International.

Peace & Love to you this weekend, my friends. And may you pass it on in spades to those around you.

photo friday: vacationing

10 Apr

A couple weeks ago Swede and I and Family of Swede went down to St. Croix for a getaway. I was only able to get away for a few days, but Swede and Family of Swede got to stay a bit longer, and while I could grumble and mumble I won’t, because I still got to pay a visit to a tropical island with warm, balmy temperatures, constant sunshine, and friendly people.

Not that Chicago doesn’t have its fair share of friendly people, but come the end of March/beginning of April when we just, for the love of all that is holy and decent, want to stop wearing our heaviest coats, even the nicest of Midwesterners get a little crabby.

So even if it was for a handful of days, I’ll take it. A few days did a world of good for getting the crabby out.

And you know what else helped?


And Rummy.

Never underestimate the power of cocktails and cards, my friends.


things i’ve been meaning to tell you: april 2015

8 Apr


Lent ended last week, and while I’ll be the first to tell you that I am a horrible Catholic, I really failed quite spectacularly at my 40 days and 40 nights of sacrifices this year. I got about two weeks into it, and then the bottom fell out, and it was pretty much like, “Jesus who?” It’s sad, because in the past I’ve done so well at sticking to my Lenten guns. For the love of all that is holy, a few years back I gave up pizza for Lent. PIZZA. And I made it through even though I probably would have traded my own mother for a slice of sausage and mushroom two days into the Lenten season that year. But this year pizza wasn’t even part of my sacrifice and I blew it. I mean like flagrant disregard for any promise I made to myself and the holy trinity. So the upshot is I’m probably going to hell, which is unfortunately because I hate being hot, but I am planning on bringing some marshmallows and hot dogs, so hopefully that will make it a little better.


I’ve spent a goodly amount of time in airports lately which means there has been an inordinate amount of people watching time, and I have discovered that there seem to be a league of people out there sporting fanny packs un-ironically.* Men and women alike, young and old.

And you know? I support this. I support this because my posture is awful from years spent toting multiple heavy shoulder bags hither and thither. Granted, I could just learn to pack lighter, but as that is incredibly unlikely, I think it’s just best if we all collectively agree that yes, fanny packs ARE un-ironically stylish, and bring them, well, not back into fashion, but into fashion to begin with, and admit that we were hasty with our scorn of them, kind of like how we all hated One Direction for Story of My Life because there is no way a boy band that has the collective age of twelve has any story to tell except “I’m not even legal to drink in the States but I have a zillion dollars,” which is just a bragging story and not one anyone wants to hear and then after hearing the song 5,000 times you find it’s actually quite lovely and moving and suddenly you know all the words and are harmonizing with the song while you’re putting on your mascara while getting ready for work.

Fanny packs. They are where it’s at.


I get that when you have animals, you are bound to have some extra messiness in your life. And I’m okay with that. We do, as I like to say, live in an Animal House. These insane beasts rule our lives. They take up precious space in our already crowded bootbox of a condo with their food dishes and their toys and their tumbleweeds of fur that roll across the hardwood floors no matter how big of an air filter we have (currently one the size of a toddler) or how many times a week I sweep (which would be several).

I’m okay with all of this, and I’m okay with the fact that thirty seconds after Swede and I finish cleaning, the house is a mess again. Because as soon as we finish cleaning, THAT is the time the cats decide they want to be awake for their 1 hour a day. Or the dog starts doing hot laps around the living room, couch cushions and glasses in her way be damned. It is inevitable that my home will never look like Martha Stewart’s. Or like something out of Property Brothers. And the reason I’m telling you guys this is because if you ever come for a weekend visit, you should know this about our abode: It will be never be neat. Clean, yes, but neat is highly debatable. It’s a loving home, it’s a fun home, there is always delicious food and wine, and we have a terrific balcony.

But there are beasts.

And beasts are not everyone’s cup of tea, and for that reason, I promise we will always try and live near nice, affordable hotels, and I will absolutely not be offended if you have no desire to stay overnight with us. In fact, I might actually stay in your hotel with you, because the cats like to yell in the morning. A lot. And for once, just once, I would very much like to give my alarm clock the chance to do its job, rather than the cats beating it to the punch.

*Why anyone would want to be ironic about this, I don’t know, but it happens.

music week at mcpolish: spring 2015 edition V

27 Mar

See what I’m doing here?

Since usually I have Photo Fridays in this spot? And instead I have a song about a camera to round out this music week? (It was either this or Pictures of You by the original emo kids)

Clever is my middle name.

Actually it’s Veronica.

But my superhero middle name is Clever. McPolish Clever, ehhmmm….Fantasticosity.


McPolish Clever Fantasticosity. That’s it.

It has a nice ring to it. And it comes with an amazing cape.

Now. Go enjoy this last treat for your ears.

Until next Music Week, Interwebers! And as always, tell me what you’re listening to these days!

music week at mcpolish: spring 2015 edition IV

26 Mar

You guys.

It’s Thursday.

That means one more day until the weekend.

You can make it.

I know you can.

Especially in those shoes.

Those shoes are awesome.

So you just take your bad-assed self and dance your way into the weekend, my friends.

music week at mcpolish: spring 2015 edition III

25 Mar

A few things here:

1) George Ezra’s “Budapest” is all over the airwaves right now, and I’m okay with that. If you can’t have fun with that song, especially with the “ooooo!” parts, then you’re just not living.

2) This is one of those cases where the voice does not match at all the picture I had of the artist in my head. I expected a guy with a few runs around the block, perhaps someone with attractive, weathered laugh lines, and instead, it’s a guy who looks like he came straight out of the Alpha Beta fraternity. Or like he could be Nick Carter’s cousin. It was unexpected, let me tell you.

3) Since All Things Sir Ian McKellan are hot right now (why? no clue, but let’s roll with it), I couldn’t help but bring you this track and video for Ezra’s “Listen to the Man.” You really can’t go wrong with coconuts and gongs.

music week at mcpolish: spring 2015 edition II

24 Mar

Welcome to Tuesday at Music Week at Mcpolish. Today I have a for you a tune that my girl Mare Beh Beh introduced me to just last week, and I can’t stop listening to it. Maybe you won’t be able to, either. And that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with listening to a song six or seven or twenty times on repeat. Unless it’s What’s New, Pussycat?  Or Tom Waits. (I’m looking at you, Swede.)

Anyway, Lord Huron for the repeat win, my friends. Happy Tuesday!

What are you listening to these days? 


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