Ah, the good old days...

Coming to you live from Chicago, it's the newest installment of If You Want to Know What I Think, Just Ask Me. The first in a long string of visits to a city that has pretty much become like a second home to me and will only become more so over the summer as I use intern supervision as a front for going to concerts and music festivals and gaying out with America's Next Top Model and vegan cupcakes that will take over the world.

I've had a few firsts in Chicago...my first short haircut was here, the first time I ever cheated on a boyfriend was here. Yep, proud moments those were. Having come from tiny Weeping Water, where there's as many people in the entire town as in three blocks in Chicago, it's sometimes stunning how much my life has changed.

I've been visiting Chicago regularly for two years now, and somewhere in those two years I entered my late twenties. I can tell because my itineraries have changed quite a bit. Usually, I fly in on Friday night and we hit Berlin as soon as I can drop off my bag. We'd leave just in time to get to Clarke's or the Pick Me Up Cafe just before the bar crowds and barely make it through some cheese fries or organic pancakes before we stumble home at 5 AM and get to bed. But lately...well, as Kris says, "I just can't wait to get into my jammas and get under a blanket and watch television. It's going to be even better than when we did the same thing last night."

And I expect to feel some nostalgia for the "good old days"...the days when I got shit canned drunk and tried to hit on gay guys, when we went to bars in Wicker Park and I hooked up with some stranger with a girlfriend and tragic Brittany friends who thought they were going to nail Kris, or when I rode on the float in the gay pride parade and was blatantly propositioned by a very cute lesbian. But I don't feel nostalgia for those days...because as much as the gays love me, they'd rather go home with Kris, and that stranger from the Wicker Park bar had weird balls and only had Gatorade to drink, and that lesbian may have been cute but she only propositioned me because I was on a moving truck and there was no way I'd actually jump down and go home with her.

So yeah, I'd rather sit in an apartment in Boystown and watch The Real World New Orleans and other late 90s flash backs and make vegan cupcakes and watch youtube videos of SNL skits mocking Project Runway. I really don't miss anything if I pass out on the couch at 10:30 PM. And if that makes me old, so be it.

Is that a business card...or are you just happy to see me?

So as I've gotten older, a few things have changed about the way I see the world, especially men. For example, as a younger woman, I always found guys who were really helpless and could basically not dress themselves without me really attractive...ok ok, so I sort of still have that. But I've learned as I approach my late 20s that being needed is overrated. I also find the help much less attractive as I get older. I used to love me a bartender or server -- now I look at them and think, sure you're attractive but don't you want to do something with your life?

Another interesting phenomenon that I've experienced really only in the last couple of months is the business card. It seems that handing out a business card is the new version of writing your number on a napkin...I think. I actually can't really tell, and I don't think it's fair.

Up until very recently, I would typically meet guys through friends or work, although I took my share home from the bars too. Here's how it would go: I would see guy, get him to pay attention to me, we'd chat in the obligatory way, and he'd either type my number into his cell phone -- usually to never use it again -- or or say something that meant, "Hey let's go have sex."

But let's say it doesn't go like that. Let's say that one evening a girl is walking home from work because the goddamn light rail was a minute early and she missed it. Let's say that as she's crossing the street she notices first a semi-attractive man about to intersect her path, then a fox that is just chillin in the street like 6 feet away. Let's say semi-attractive man comments on the fox and then starts walking next to the girl as though they'd known each other forever and were on their way somewhere for a drink. Let's say that girl and semi-attractive guy chat for about 10 blocks when girl says, "I have to turn here to go home." That's when it happens...semi-attractive guy says, "Here, have my business card in case you want to buy an electric bike or know someone who does. My name's Addison, it's on the card." Girl isn't sure what to think, as she'd clearly expressed her desire to purchase a bike of the human powered variety, so she takes the card and they go their separate ways.

You may have guessed that the girl in that story was me. And this is not the first time this has happened, not even the first time in the last week. To be sure, what with the fox and all it was a strange situation all around, but now what's a girl to do? Does he want me to call him? Or does he just want me to buy an electric bike?