don’t drink and ride the CTA.

If I didn’t know what FOMO meant, this week I’ve learned the meaning. While I continue to freeze my ass off and wear more layers than humanly possible, my hometown peeps are frolicking around South Beach like a bunch of wild animals enjoying every #MMW & #WMC event possible. Can I even hashtag on here? IDGAF. Vogue just hashtagged on their cover.

But enough about Miami and all of its current gloriousness. Today was rough in the CHI.

For starters, I fell on my way to the bathroom this morning. FELL ON MY FACE. I fell because I tripped over a BOOT. A problem I have never had to encounter because wtf wears boots?! Not me, until now. It’s all I effing wear. Every. Damn. Day. BOOTS.


Irregardless, I decided to walk out of my apartment with an open mind because today is Thursday and that means it’s practically Friday, which means FREEDOM. Except what I experienced shortly after going under ground was not freedom. Moments after entering my train stop I became trapped in the freaking spinning thing that lets me into the train terminal. How is this possible you ask? I have no idea, but it happened. IT HAPPENED TO ME. I was trapped in this tiny jail for about 60 seconds until someone else came up behind me and had to set me free. Que pena.

Then the work day passed and it was time for happy hour, which is my favorite hour for obvious reasons. Drink, drank, drunk, now it’s time to go home.

The only problem is, the moment you switch up my routine (and add alcohol) in a new city I GET LOST. All my life I’ve heard the dangers of drinking and driving. What they failed to teach me was the dangers of drinking and getting on the train…because it’s confusing as SHIT. Leave it to me to get on the wrong train and freak out with a nearly dying phone.




the struggle is real.

I’ve been living in Chicago for a week now and all I can say is, this place is not for the weak.

Besides the obvious freezing temperatures, there’s a lot of other shit you don’t take into account when deciding to move to Chicago on a whim. For example, the absurd amount of money you will likely spend at Ikea, Walmart, etc. while still feeling like you have absolutely nothing. Clearly, I’m still not over this, but let’s move on.


Let’s not talk about the $42 Uber black car I decided to take to my first day of work like if I was the Queen of England. Let’s just not. It still hurts my heart.

The next morning I decided it was time to channel my inner J.Lo (circa 1991) and catch the train like a normal person. This proved to be a much more affordable and practical form of transportation, if I could only get over feeling like a sardine twice a day. Personal space is not something Chicagoan’s practice on the reg.

The train really isn’t that bad though. Except for when it nonchalantly becomes delayed because it hits an innocent bystander. WHATTTT?! Yes, that happened last week. Now I have paranoia to the max. Thanks CTA. No biggie.

Other than the train, you basically have to walk.. EVERYWHERE. I just want to let you all know that I don’t walk. I don’t run. I don’t even work out. I’m skinny thanks to my incredible genes and I probably take it for granted. Sue me. However, since I’ve moved here, I’ve walked more miles and climbed more stairs than I ever would want to. People even expect you to walk up the escalator. Who walks up the escalator?! Why are you in such a hurry?! This life is exhausting!

Since I still don’t have my car, (sidenote: Don’t ever get your car shipped unless you want to pay $$$ that you weren’t originally quoted & you don’t mind actually getting your car weeks after it was promised to you) I haven’t really been able to get very far.

I attempted to do groceries for the first time since I’ve been here this weekend. Seven days later. I know. Don’t ask me what I’ve been surviving off of.

Anyway, the previous tenant told me there was a grocery store “right around the corner”. Being from Miami, I immediately doubted the convenient location of this so-called grocery store. Around the corner is just slang for 2 miles away. However, to my surprise, there it was. Sunrise Market, right around the corner.

What she failed to mention was that they obviously import their products from fucking Uganda cause the few items they actually carry were out of control expensive. Who pays $15 for little bottle of laundry detergent?! Not this girl, cause I’m from Hialeah, and I know better. Where’s the dollar store at??

If it wasn’t for my incredibly delicious Friday night dinner date at Masa Azul, this week would’ve been majorly depressing.


It ain’t easy trying to live the dream but things are looking up. I’ll finally have cable & internet next weekend so more frequent posts are on the horizon!


i woke up like this.

It’s only appropriate that on my first day of living in Chicago it snowed ALL. DAY.

Legit from the moment I pulled out of the airport until after I bar hopped my little ass around Lakeview at 2 a.m., it snowed. IT SNOWED SO MUCH!

My day started with non-other than an Ikea excursion with my partner in crime, Will. Here I participated in what I would like to call a little game of Supermarket Sweep where I just threw all kinds of shit in my cart without a worry in the world. I don’t know who I think I am. Really. Like, did I think I could afford all of that unnecessary shit? NOT.

So after hours of shopping (and putting lots of things back), it was time to find all of these magnificent pieces of Swedish furniture in the giant warehouse and put it onto our cart – all five of them. WE ENDED UP NEEDING FIVE CARTS. Close your eyes and picture me (and all of my super power strength) along with my friend, lugging around five Ikea flat-bed carts stacked with shit. People just watched & laughed in utter amazement of our strength (obvi) as we struggled with hundreds of pounds of boxes across the massive store.

In the end, I had to find out that all of my glorious furniture won’t be delivered for days so I’ve been sleeping on the floor in the middle of place, crack house style. Like, I seriously had a bowl of cereal on the toilet this morning cause I have no effing chairs & it’s basically the warmest spot in my entire place.

Anyway, last night after an awesome dinner at Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba and a few vodkas, I couldn’t figure out why the space heater in my “bedroom” wasn’t actually HEATING in the middle of the night so I threw on gloves, a scarf and my J.LO jacket (in addition to my sweatpants, sweater and socks) and went back to sleep -half frozen still.

In the words of Beyonce, I woke up like this…