I've realized it's theoretically possible that you could be reading this and not be a member of my immediate family, so here's a little background info for your perusal.
I grew up in the northern suburbs of Chicago, went to a public high school that wanted to be a private school and considered an admission letter to Harvard the ultimate success in life.
Though I didn’t go to Harvard, I *was* agreeable enough to go to a school with excellent sailing and squash teams.
When I was nine, my mom and I were booted out of a law firm football pool after winning three weeks in a row.
If I could do anything in the world, I’d be the fourth Dixie Chick, or maybe Cal Ripken Jr. circa 1991.
I live on the north side of Chicago with a roommate I rarely see and a small grey cat who stockpiles hair elastics behind the couch.
I am quite possibly the least flexible human being you know. I mean physically, but interpret as you will.
I work for a non-profit that helps young children in the Chicago Public schools. (good news, the Chicago public schools are no longer considered the worst in the country--they moved up to third worst)
Though numerous people have tried to teach me, I still have no idea how to use eyeliner.
I get my heart broken every year by the Chicago Bears. Please find yourselves an athletic quarterback. Thanks.
More later perhaps.
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