Moonshine & Wanderlust

... a cosmopolitan view from a southern perspective

A Southern Girl in Paris Part 1.2: Destination – Paris!

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If you missed Part 1.1 of A Southern Girl in Paris, check it out here. 

Where I Am Now: I’m currently sitting in the airport in Toronto – this airport is awesome. And, by awesome I mean they have a place to plug my phone and a nice high top table with fancy lighting and free wifi. It’s a dream for me when I usually have to balance my wireless keyboard on my lap while my iPad is precariously sitting on top of my luggage. 

Naturally, I would get picked for a random body search. They let me pick between a full body scan or a pat down. I went with the body scan – I didn’t feel like being felt up today. My mom thinks the body scan machines cause cancer – she tells me they are “frying” my eggs. Thanks, Mom. Just when the age factor wasn’t enough now I have to think about my eggs being fried. THANKS!

                                                                                   Getting to Paris 

I arrived at Charles de Gaulle around 9:45AM Paris time (3:45AM home time) on Saturday morning. The flight was okay but somehow I failed myself and forgot to secure a window seat. I always get the window seat – window seats and tomato juice are my flight rituals. Well, not this time – and on a 6.5 hour flight, too. I wanted to kick myself. I was wedged between a man and a grumpy French woman. It’s bad enough I have giraffe legs but then add not be able to stretch out whatsoever on top of it. I think I slept for about 3-4 hours with my head down on my tray table. It brought back memories of a similar situation when I went to Ireland – minus the bad life decision of taking Dramamine in hopes of falling asleep. Never felt so out of my mind in my life so no sleep aids for me. 

A had given me a few, simple instructions. Get a metro ticket (RER B) and get off at Gare de Nord. She told me it would probably be easier to speak to an actual person (but that I needed to talk “slow” – like that’s a problem? I am from the South) but I decided to go AWOL and choose a self service kiosk. 

Finding the metro wasn’t hard but it wasn’t really clear either. There were some type of guards there with machine guns just chillin’ and walking around. Typical day in CDG, I guess. While there are signs in English, it’s not like “Hey, American, go HERE!” There were so many people and drivers trying to solicit me for rides, etc. But, I just kept going and finally found the right signs I needed instead of freaking out and running around asking a bunch of people for help. Cause nothing says you’re a single woman traveling alone like not being aware of your surroundings. 

It was all well and good until I found the kiosk and realized it didn’t take paper. I had plenty of paper euro but no coins. I took a chance and turned to the woman behind me. “Do you speak English?” I felt bad because I knew I had dragon breath but desperate times call for desperate measures. Thankfully she did and told me she would give me 10 euro in coins for my paper money. I’m always thankful for those little moments of kindness when traveling. 

The train out of CDG was easy to navigate and I knew exactly where I’d be meeting A. Why can’t the New York subway system be this simple? Anyway – once I got off at my stop, A’s instructions said to “go to the highest level and that’s where I’ll meet you.” I looked up the three flights of stairs that led to the highest level and sighed. This would be a common occurrence – escalators everywhere – none of them work. I lugged my bag up to the top only to walk up on about five homeless men laying on the ground in front of me. Obviously I had done something wrong. So, I lug my bag back down the stairs and walked further into the station. I pride myself on being able to travel with one bag but my goal is to just get down to a backpack. 

I finally found the upper level of the station and there was A waiting for me, looking a little anxious. It was only then that I found out the “SOS” texts I had sent her she could read but not respond to. So, she was getting texts like “I need help”” “Where are you?” “TAKEN PART 14!” without actually being able to help me. Whoops. It was so good to see a familiar face! I love that girl! I think she is so brave and fierce to be living abroad as an au pair  this past year. Can’t wait to see her life blossom!

We got out of the station and headed to Montmartre, where the hotel I reserved was located.  I had read mostly good reviews about the area and A highly recommended it as her favorite part of Paris, so I felt good with my choice. Even when we were one street over and saw this window display:

   

Hotel BoroNali was a great choice – the staff was extremely helpful, especially since I had not originally planned for A to stay with me but since she was able to they helped us out getting situated. The hotel had a very boutique style to it. There was a medium sized dining area where coffee and tea were served in abundance and free to guests. They also had a large spread every morning with many varietites of breakfast fare. 

I had no idea I was about to see the world’s smallest elevator. A and I stood around for a couple of minutes trying to decide what could fit in one trip. The notice sign said two people could occupy the elevator. Yes, two French people. Or, one normal sized American. That was mean – but, really – there are no overweight people in France. A and I could have fit but our luggage wouldn’t, too. We started putting the two bags in and surveyed the scene. 

A: “Just put the suitcases in and send them up!” 

PL: “Who’s going to push the button? It’s not going to go up on its own!” 

A: “You’ll fit!” She then literally pushes me back into the elevator, shuts the door, and says, “Bonne chance! (Good luck!)”

   

#goodthingididnteatbreakfast

 

They weren’t lying when they said the room was small. Our rooms in Ireland were never this small, but it was quaint and plenty room for two people. I appreciated the simplicity of it. The shower was a very accomodating size, especially compared to most European showers. Also, the water pressure was much better than most of the hotels in the States. That’s probably not a big deal to most people, but it’s good to note. The hotel was extremely reasonable, especially being so centrally located to everything. The metro straight into the city is just a few streets down.

  
   

We got settled in before noon and headed out for my first full day in the City of Love! Part 2 coming soon! 

                                                                  until next time… xoxo, patty lauren 

Letting it Go: Live from Paris

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I’m presently sitting in the lobby of my Parisian hotel – Hotel BoroNali. I came down here with the intention of working on Part 2 of A Southern Girl in Paris but as things happen, I found myself led in another direction. These past few days have been breathtaking and in the midst of the beauty and awe and once in a lifetime memories I have found myself thinking about a lot of life things. I’ve thought a lot about the past six months – where it started, where I am now, what I’ve had the opportunity to experience, what I’ve learned, what I’ve gained, what I’ve lost. 

The night shift clerk has just brought me a basket of pastries and insisted on making me an espresso. 

 

So, I sit here – fed and content and thinking about the importance of letting go. My fellow listeners of Contemporary Christian music from the early 90s will probably remember Sierra. I don’t know why I have some of their music still on my rotating playlist, but their once popular song “Let it Go” popped up on my iPad iTunes. Honestly, I was looking for some more lighthearted jams but it was ironic this was the song that started playing with everything I’ve been thinking about recently. 

If you’ve carried your burdens, as far as you can go

If you’ve reached the end of your own strength

And you just can’t go on

If your days are filled with questions

And the answers they just don’t come

If you’ve put your faith in those who let you down

If the road you’re on seems like shaky ground

Turn your eyes toward heaven, He is waiting there

You’ll find the peace you’re longing for in His care

Bring Christ your broken heart

He will comfort you

With love to heal your deepest hurt

And grace to see you through

Fall into His open arms

Bring Christ your broken heart

Bring Christ your broken heart

If you’ve prayed for the sun to shine

Only to watch it rain

And if you find you’re weary from the struggle

Don’t think you can try again

When love is just an empty word

That echoes through the canyons of your soul

And you wonder just how long you’ll feel this way

Will you have the strength to hold on one more day

There is One who hears you and who understands

Place your wound soul in His nail-scarred hands

This is something I’ve touched on before – so many times we feel the need to take the reigns and drive our own destiny. I’m a pro at shoving God over and saying, “Look, I’ve got this – just sit back and enjoy the ride” and inevitably I get lost or broken down and I find myself realizing my life is much better off when I surrender the things to God I cannot control. 

We had the opportunity to hear Christine Cain at Hillsong Paris on Sunday night and everything she said resonated so much with this thought of letting it go. I want to go into more detail about that in another blog, but I found the tears coming as she spoke the words “God wants to do more through our life but we don’t want to be interrupted. ‘I’m busy – don’t interrupt me, God…'” We are so driven but what we think is best we leave no room for God.

She made another great point – we put everything in a box. We have a God box and a work box and a relationship box, etc. We have everything planned out. We leave no room for God to move in our lives. I couldn’t help but think of what I have missed out on because of my own selfish desire to control. We can’t let the past go so we revisit it and we rummenate over it and we try to recreate it and we are stuck in a never ending cycle of disappointment, sadness, feeling like you’re not good enough, having feelings of regret and shame. It’s a vicious cycle meant to tear our spirits down and to keep us from being the best we can be and from being completely open to so many experiences we may only dream of having. 

Why is it so hard to LET IT GO? It has taken me years to finally let go of some things but once I truly, utterly let it go and totally gave it to God and didn’t look back the weight that was lifted was unimaginable. Why does it almost feel like a compulsion to live in the past? The past is BEHIND you. What is in front of you that you are missing because you are too busy looking back? I can’t help but think of Lot’s wife from the Bible – she had one command… to not look back. But, she couldn’t help herself. She had to have one more look back at her old life. What was comfortable. What felt good. And, because of that one little decision… she paid the ultimate price. 

At 30 years old I finally feel like this is the “aha” moment – I am living presently and fully and open. We are a blessed people! We have so much to live for – even in the moments of sorrow we have a reason to have JOY! It has to be a daily, deliberate decision to let the rest of it go. To not look back. To push, to go forward, to work, to dream, to LIVE. To break open the boxes and be free. And, we can only be free – truly free – when we let go. 

                               In the words of Destiny’s Child – “ain’t no feeling like being free” 
until next time… xoxo, patty lauren 

A Southern Girl in Paris Part 1: Destination – Paris!

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Friday, May 22, 2015 @ 1:17pmEST – Atlanta, GA

I’m sitting in the Atlanta airport – North Terminal Gate T12. I smell ketchup… Someone near me is eating some nice greasy fries with a bucketload of ketchup. I’ve developed a highly trained sniffer these days. I can smell everything…. Well, everything bad. Grease, oil, sugar, salt… My stomach relives vicariously through my senses. 

This morning started out perfect…. Well, almost perfect. After a nice bedtime of 9:30pm I found myself waking up at 2am with a debilitating headache. First thought: brain tumor. Second thought: pulled muscle and need drugs. My neighbor and friend, AJ, is my go-to drug dealer for early morning/late night headaches since I can’t seem to manage to house any drugs in my home besides Pepto Bismal and prescribed veterinarian medicine. AJ brought the Mack daddy of pill bottles over and gave me a few extra for the road. Here’s hoping it works. 

Speaking of drugs, I know not to make the same mistake of taking Dramamine before an international flight in hopes of sleeping. My last experience was not a memorable one – eight hours of feeling wired to the gills and high as a kite. No Dramamine for me. Just a prayer I can sleep as I arrive in Paris first thing Saturday morning and will hit the ground running. Who needs sleep anyways? 

Paris… City of Love, City of Light. Paris… Butter and bread. Croissants and crepes. Coffee and cheese. All the wine. Museums and Monet. I’m no stranger to solo traveling, but this will be my first time traveling solo overseas. I feel… at peace. Content. Ready. I am going to visit my friend, A, who is nannying in France. She has planned three days of fun…. I am just ready to be there. 

Dad picked me up and we headed to our favorite place – Starbucks – before I literally ran through Publix to purchase the biggest box of strawberry Pop Tarts to join the boxes of Sour Patch Kids in my luggage – A’s only request when I asked her what I could bring over with me. Speaking of Dad, he went straight Liam Neeson on me wanting any and all contact info.      

We got to the shuttle with a couple minute to spare… Time for ussies and hugs and promises to be safe. First time I’ve felt emotional about my trip. I hate goodbyes… even just for a few days. 

  
Our shuttle group had the sweetest driver, James – a retired railroad worker and Navy veteran who drives shuttles every now and then to get him out of the house. His wife appreciates it, he said. We had a van full of other international travelers and everyone was helping everyone else with questions. None of us were really sure if I should leave out of Domestic or International. After incorrectly going to International, I hopped in the front seat with James and we chewed spearmint gum and he told me a little about himself while he drove me back to the Domestic terminal. 

I have two plane changes – one in DC and one in Montreal. My first time in Canada! 

By now I’m very familiar with the Atlanta airport so I took my time getting through security and to my gate… All with 20 minutes to spare before boarding time! I’m not a big fan of waiting around an airport terminal. Coming back is gonna be a long day as I have a 3 hour layover in Montreal. Don’t think I’m not wondering if that’s enough time to get out and go see something. 

2pmEST

I’m now in our plane… It’s really nice. Not a “puddle jumper” as my Mom likes to call the smaller planes. Although having access to the power outlets would be pretty sweet. First Class Probz. Aaand, I just remembered I forgot to exchange my money. Meh. I am sandwiched in between four children but hey… If I had a kid I’d want them to be little travelers, too. Or, maybe they just couldn’t find a babysitter. 

Next stop? DC! 

  
Friday, May 22, 2015 @ 4:17pmEST

I’m sitting in the Dulles airport being stared at pretty heavily by a man. He’s got dark hair and bright laughing eyes and dimples. He’s about 3 feet tall and sipping on a Captain America sippy cup. I don’t think it would work out though… I think he was just attracted to the pita chips I had in my lap. 

Unfortunately, between my writing the above paragraph and coming back later to finish it, Captain America became a little less charming. His mommy was kissing the wet tater tot crumbs off his mouth in between chasing him around the gate and letting his scream in the floor. Very progressive. And, across from me sat an electronic device screaming “Let it Go Let it Go”. Something about got let go… my sanity. 
In good news, I got a seat upgrade! Pays to travel solo when you’re surrounded by couples and families. In bad news, I was seated next to a nice portly gentleman who somehow melted part of himself into my seat so I was nestled up in the fetal position. Remember, I don’t like being touched by strangers. And, bless him… Within 5 minutes of boarding he was sawing big logs. That’s what earbuds are for, my friends! 
Friday, May 22nd, 2015 @ 6:45ish – Montreal, Canada
Unfortunately, between my writing the above paragraph and coming back later to finish it, Captain America became a little less charming. His mommy was kissing the wet tater tot crumbs off his mouth in between chasing him around the gate and letting his scream in the floor. Very progressive. And, across from me sat an electronic device screaming “Let it Go Let it Go”. Something about got let go… my sanity. 

In good news, I got a seat upgrade! Pays to travel solo when you’re surrounded by couples and families. In bad news, I was seated next to a nice portly gentleman who somehow melted part of himself into my seat so I was nestled up in the fetal position. Remember, I don’t like being touched by strangers. And, bless him… Within 5 minutes of boarding he was sawing big logs. That’s what earbuds are for, my friends! 
Friday, May 22nd, 2015 @ 6:45ish – Montreal, Canada
Hardly any time to do anything in Montreal but priorities? Food. I was able to finally exchange my money and get a quick bite to eat before boarding my flight to Charles de Gaulle.

Cost of “healthy” airport pizza with spinach and artichoke hearts and pine nuts and bell peppers? $16

Cost of Evian water? $3

Cost of cramps you get from said pizza at 2AM in the morning sandwiched in between two other plane passengers? Priceless.

  
Next time someone needs to remind me it is worth the extra money to spend for a window seat if I can’t pick it ahead of time. I always get the window and to end up in the middle during a six and a half hour flight when you’ve got intestinal problems is not fun. TRUST. ME. 

Saturday, May 23rd, 2015 @ 9:45amCEST- Paris,  France 

Arrived!

Part 2 Coming Soon! 

                                                                           Until next time, xoxo patty lauren 

Do Any of Us Mean What We Say Anymore

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Words. They can be beautiful. They can portray happiness, love, sadness, passion, anger… We have so much power within our tongue. And, take it from me – once it flies out you can’t take it back. We have the ability to hurt, to comfort, to love, to humor, to breakdown, to destroy, to humiliate, to set on fire – all with our words.

We all talk too much. We’re too busy talking or filling the air with meaningless words we forget words are only a piece of what makes up our intentions. I love words, of course. I enjoy writing them, I enjoy thinking of things to say to illicit reactions, responses… it’s much more fun to write when you’re not doing it because you “have” to. It becomes easy. It becomes so easy it’s dangerously simple to have a diatribe of words and nothing to back it up.

Nothing to show you care. Nothing to show you mean what you say. Nothing to back up what you say – who you are. We’re all guilty of saying “Let’s get together!”, “I’ll call you soon!”, “I miss you!”… And, yet… we never get together. We never call. We don’t go see the person we miss. We have become hollow words.

This is probably going to be a terrible example but I’m going to use it anyway because it makes sense. I’ve always been the girl the guys like to have as their friend. They tell me their woman problems, they jab me in the side when something funny happens, they ask me for advice. Someone once told me guys are intimidated of me… Maybe some are but the ones worth dating aren’t. So… yeah! Anyway, this is not about my dating life. This is about the fact that because I have, at times, had the “inside track” on how men work and they all say the same thing when it comes to doing things… if they really want to do something, they do it. You don’t have to twist their arm, you don’t have to beg them, you don’t have to wonder what’s going on. If they want to ask you out, they will. If they miss you, they’ll tell you. It’s not usually a “muddy” scenario. Women don’t seem to grasp this. At all. It’s not hard!! Hell, I have a hard time remembering it and I’ve been told first hand that and a lot of other gory details. Gosh, maybe this is turning into a dating post. Anyway…

So I say that to say… when we really want to do something we do it. We’re all that way – not just men. We should mean what we say and we should follow through with it. I’m terrible at returning phone calls. Horrible. So, I don’t tell people I am going to call them unless I am going to pick up the phone then or very soon and actually call them. Some people don’t care if you follow through with your words or not, but most of us do. And, if you’re friends with someone or you care about someone – you will follow through. You will show them you care and you’re making an effort. Because relationships – all of them – are a two way street. If you haven’t heard from someone in awhile and you’re sitting around thinking, “Well, I’m going to let them call me.” Please don’t be that person. We all have been at some point but maybe they’re waiting for you to call? Maybe they think you don’t care? Don’t always make it about yourself.

Actions. They take time. They take dedication. They take selflessness. They’re not as easy to demonstrate as words. They are the tangible body of our literary creations – whether they are simple or complicated. They are who we are.

Humans need to stop playing games with each other. Life doesn’t need to be so complicated. If you miss someone, tell them. If you love them, tell them. Stop waiting for the perfect moment. Stop being scared. Stop being petty. Stop being selfish. In the words of Nike: JUST DO IT.

 

The Windy City Diaries Part 1

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Part 1

At the present moment I am writing this blog from our hotel, The Park Hyatt. I really can’t say enough amazing things but more about that later. They are in the process of fetching me (I love that word – fetching) some batteries for my wireless keyboard but any on-the-go writer knows it’s a pain in the you-know-where to finger type on your portable device.

So… Chicago! Like any good story I will start at the beginning. My dad, who I haven’t written a whole lot about on M&W (but that’s about to change – he’s been warned!) is an amazing person. My mom and I are so lucky to have him in our lives. I can’t really say enough nice and good things about him except for he is a wonderful man and anyone lucky enough to have him in their lives are immensely blessed. He’s shown me the epitome of selflessness, unconditional love, humor, grace… the things he does for others no one else will know about it because he’s too humble to say. I could never be an actress because I can’t cry on command but when I think about my Dad and how much I love him and all of the things he has done for our family… Waterworks. One of my coworkers would always say, “He is going to make it really hard for some man to live up to!” Isn’t that the way it should be? Dads play such a huge role in their daughters lives… Major. I’m beyond fortunate – of course I’m biased but if you’re reading this and you know my Dad I think you’ll agree he’s a pretty cool guy.

Anyway, out of the rabbit hole! I had been wanting to visit Chicago for awhile and the only thing keeping me from taking the trip myself was the fact Dad had been here before several times and I knew he would like to probably go, too, and it would be a fun father-daughter trip.

The opportunity to go finally came in the way of the NRA Show (no, not the National Rifle Association although that is what I thought when I got sent the ticket information. This NRA Show is the National Restaurant Association Show which basically boils down to… FREE FOOD SAMPLES. Just kidding. But, I swear some people just bought the $50 tickets to gorge on free samples of lobster and cheesecake and beef and alcohol for three days. Whatever floats your boat, man. More about the show later.

Our trip started Saturday afternoon but I was up way before time running hill sprints at 6:30AM. One point for early morning dedication because I was about to blow it with the deep dish pizza I had been lusting after in my dreams.

While flying out of Chattanooga is well and great it is not what I’m used to so I found myself having to slow my roll. I found myself driving way too fast to get to a destination we had plenty of time to be at and I also found myself stripping my clothes way too early in the TSA line while everyone else just mosied along and slowly undid their belts and slowly took off their shoes and slooooowly went through the line. It’s just completely different from Atlanta. I can’t tell you how many cans of dry shampoo I’ve gotten through Atlanta (jk?) but somehow I don’t think that would fly in Chattanooga. Too much time = extra thoroughness.

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I’m a one bag traveler. Ready to go!

 

I think the whole ordeal threw off my travel mojo as I then started dropping all matter of crap on the floor and had to have people help me pick it up. Struggle. I get worked up before trips and sometimes get a little ADD. We made it through security (not without Dad getting pulled aside for using his middle name as his legal name. He’s never gotten over the fact his middle name is what he’s known by instead of his first legal name. It was entertaining – I was amused, he wasn’t. Typical.)

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I get my inner nerd and tech loving ways from my Pops

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Ready for takeoff!

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one of my weird little habits… I also have to have a tomato juice with ice when I fly (I NEVER drink it any other time!)

 

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But, first… let’s take an ussie and be white girls and get our Sbux cups, too.

 

We arrived in Chicago Saturday afternoon and much to my pleasant surprise, he announced we would be being “adventurous” and taking the train. Music to my ears! I love me some public transportation while traveling. The train took us down into the city where we had our first Uber experience. And, I use the term experience genuinely. With Uber you can track the location of your arriving ride on your phone. You even get a picture of your driving and their cell phone number! It’s the Tinder of transportation! Well, we saw one, two, three rides go by we thought was ours: “Here he comes. Aaand, nevermind.” So we stood outside for about 30 minutes waiting on our ride only to realize someone-who-shall-remain-nameless put in the wrong address.

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perfect time to take some more ussies!

 

A few things I first noticed about Chicago – it is nothing like New York City! I guess I was expecting another NYC type atmosphere but Chicago could not be further from the city. There is grass, there are flowers, there are tall buildings but you’re not surrounded by humongous skyscrapers so big you feel utterly consumed. People were SO NICE. Men opened doors for ladies and everyone said “please” and “thank you” and “excuse me”. No one was blaring their horn in the street too much. No yelling at pedestrians. It was SO CLEAN. I’d been prepared for machetes in the streets after knowing Chicago is so crime ridden but I didn’t see any of that. It was not what I expected at all and that was a good thing. Of course, it’s never good to expect anything out of life period because what does expectation get us? That’s right, let’s all say it together… disappointment -playing worlds smallest violin- However, that wasn’t the case in this story.

We found a Jamba Juice on the way to the hotel… a must when any of my family travels. We love our Jamba Juice.

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We arrived at the Park Hyatt and got settled in. Everything about the hotel was perfect. The staff, the room, the view, the amenities, the location. We were on the 15th floor and it overlooked The Water Tower and Lake Michigan. My favorite thing about the room was the seating area in front of the big picture window.

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isn’t that beautiful?!

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I spent a nice amount of time reading in front of the bay window and having the windows open. Which, apparently, I’m not old enough to do on my own. I laid down on the seat and got my iPad to read the rest of Gone Girl and I opened up the little window to hear the city noise and get some fresh air. I also took the screen off so I could see outside without being restrained by the black netting. That’s when I was rudely met with:

“Put the screen back on that window!!”

“Uh, why? I want to see outside without the screen in my way.”

“Knowing you, you’ll drop your damn phone out of it.”

I can’t even.

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“the window”

 

The bathroom (you all know how I like my bathrooms) was gorgeous… I think we both were pretty geeked it had a TV in it, too! But, that wasn’t my favorite part… Upon visiting the restroom I was perusing my surroundings when I saw a telephone on the wall. I mean, why does anyone really need a telephone in the bathroom?  “Help, I’m out of toilet paper!” (Okay, that would probably be me so nevermind.)

I picked up the phone and dialed the room. *Ring Ring*

“Hello?” (I thought for sure he would know it was me)

“I can call you from the bathroom!”

“You’re retarded” *CLICK*

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Giordano’s
Since I’m pretty well-versed in the proper way to use Pinterest and like to use it to my advantage while traveling, Dad let me recommend some places to eat. Saturday night led us to a pizza place I had read a lot of amazing things about – Giordanos. The wait just for your pizza is typically around 45 minutes. However, when you put your name on the waiting list you can go ahead and order your food so the time is reduced. We went with a traditional stuffed Chicago style pepperoni pizza and two caesar salads. The salads were just enough until the main dish.

OH. MY. GOD. Okay, so some people know this about me but my favorite food is pizza. I love it. Feed me pizza and pet me and be sweet to me and that’s all I ask, honestly. I haven’t had pizza in months so I was really, really, reeeeally looking forward to this. And, it was everything I could have hoped for… perfection. The pepperoni were snuggled under a thick layer of cheese which was topped with the most perfect sauce and baked into the most crispy, hard, thick crust. I found my true love pizza match. Good thing you can also get it shipped to your house, right?! #christmasgiftideas

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THIS IS FOOD PORN YA’LL!

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I’m gonna need a moment alone with my pizza…

 

After dinner, we made our way back to the hotel.

“What time is it?” Dad asked.
“7:45pm”
“What a bunch of losers”

It was at some point in this conversation he proceeds to say something like:

“You’re going to be 31 this year.”

“No, I’m not! I just turned 30! Thirty one isn’t until next year.” 

“Whatever. Same thing. I’m getting older and I want you to feel like I feel.”

Like… what do you even say to that? He kills me.

—

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The Park Hyatt has a fantastic spa and fitness area on their 7th floor so I decided to check out the pool when we got back to the hotel. Lucky for me no one else was in there so I had the whole place to myself. The pool is a lap pool but a great size to accommodate several swimmers. I made a couple of laps and found myself sunk down in the jacuzzi. I could see part of the Chicago skyline, it’s quiet… relaxing. It was a good way to end my first day in the Windy City.

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And, just because it was funny I decided to text Dad an SOS for the directions to our room since he thought I was inept earlier in the evening:

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until part 2… xoxo, patty lauren