You paid how much for a trash can? (or, Happy Monday, Ajay!)


The show opened! And closed! I love week-long shows. Opening night was incredible, especially since it was a Thursday and completely sold out. (And Kat was there, who has the best laugh ever. When she laughs I feel like I’ve reinvented comedy.) People seemed to dig the idea of P.J. and I as a married couple, which can only prove to be fortuitous. At least we’re believable. I’ve just managed to get the last of the corn syrup blood out of my hair, which is how I like to close any show.

A bit of a recap. Friday, I was lucky enough to take as a personal day, as my Wednesday and Friday gals were taking a personal two weeks in Maine. I decided to spend the day writing since I have a ton of deadlines and potential projects for the fall. That, of course, means I woke up at 9am, cleaned the house for two and a half hours, celebrated my clean house by taking myself out to Victory’s Banner for lunch (they’re closing for their two week sabbatical- long story), convinced myself I was “working” because Kate and I exchanged witty story-idea emails, and then actually sat at my desk around 2pm. I worked on two projects for a solid hour and a half of writing…at which point I was so thoroughly alarmed by how much I COULD write when I chose to…that I fell asleep on the couch for an hour. Woke up at 5pm, made dinner for Peej and then got ready to leave for the theater. We rode our bikes over to Strawdog (2ish miles each way) and had a great Friday night show. My friend Alex had come to see it, so we hung out with him afterwards and rode our bikes home at midnight. Best. Day off. Ever.

Saturday was lovely because it felt like a Sunday with a whole ‘nother day after it. After P.J. made breakfast (he seriously cooks the best bacon in the universe) he went off to do some projects and run some errands…while I showed him how well I could handle our joint accounts and personal expenses by checking in with my favorite thrift store. If you’re curious about how much damage I can do during a 75 cent sale of name-brand clothing, the answer is 16.81. I don’t understand the math, either.

Much later on we reconvened to watch a pivotal film- “Definitely, Maybe.” We had it on as we got ready for the show, made and ate dinner, and hand-washed the blood out of our costumes. We were precisely 7 minutes late for our call time. (The ending was worth it, though.) And the crowd was super good. And the blood was extra sticky. A Hampshire pal had shown up and it was fun to hang out after the show. Rode our bikes home (and I felt bad about not working out so far this weekend!) and capped off a pretty wonderful Saturday.

Sunday we rode our bikes (!) down to Wicker Park to have brunch at the Bongo Room, best desserty breakfast in the city. We were meeting up with P.J.’s high school pal, her mom and her two sisters. At the time it seemed like a good idea to ride there, until I took into account the fact that it was a three mile ride there, three miles back and the four and a half round trip for the theater that night. I began to protest half a block from our house. That said, the pineapple-rhubarb French toast with the candied ginger gelato and P.J.’s chocolate tower marscapone banana French toast made me happy to be alive. And glad I was getting some exercise.

Since we were already on North Avenue, we rode over to the Crate and Barrel store we had registered at for the wedding. For, you see, we had a gift card! And an item to return! And a 10% off coupon! (And we wanted a stainless steel trash can.)

Simple, no? No. For the “Simple Human” (hah) trashcan we registered for had been discontinued. In fact, since there was no record of it anywhere, it was like it had never even been. There was a number to call on our registry for how to order this vanished item; the gal at the shop called and was informed that you couldn’t order those trashcans anymore. (Was that call necessary?) There was a new one, however, for forty bucks more. I’m not gonna tell you how much it was even originally, because my sister Em will read this and get an aneurysm. Long yuppie story short, we paid for the newer, bigger, more ‘spensive one (after we had to add it to the registry to get the 10% off coupon for “finishing off the registry.” Whatever.) And we made our trade in and decided we didn’t get hosed too badly. And then they gave us a plastic bag which came up to the lid of the can, which we decided was not helpful. And then they asked us if we needed help to our car…which we still don’t have. In fact, since we rode our bikes, and since P.J. had stated that he could carry it, no problem, I silently turned and raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“I can carry it,” he restated.

We walked outside and the combo of the plastic and the stainless steel (and the fact that it was a very large, very trashcan-like object) made it slip out of his arm mere feet from the store.

“We’re taking the eL.”

SO. We hopped on the red line at North and Clybourn and rode up to Belmont, hopped on a #77 bus and walked up Oakley to our home. (We stopped at an overpriced condo open house on the way, with the trash can, ’cause that’s just fun.) Dropped off the trash can, walked back out the door, caught the #152 to the brown line, transferred back to the red line and walked back to get our bikes which were parked outside of the Container Store. I decided to look for some storage options while we were there, since this seemed to be the neighborhood in which I was destined to spend Sunday. (I realize it sounds like we have tons of money to burn. We do. And it’s great.)

Twenty minutes later, laden with belt hangers and shoe boxes, we rode up Clybourn to our home. P.J. had to carry the large items, of course, as he has a much better sense of gravity and balance than I do (even without items in the arms.) Seriously, I think he’s part superhero on a bike. Maybe it’s a boy thing. I sometimes wonder if I should be wearing elbow pads.

Home again home again, jiggety jig for about 45 minutes before the show. P.J. decided to mow the lawn and take care of stuff around the house while I face-planted on the couch. (I am useless this weekend! I am barely functioning beyond eating and sleeping! And, you know, riding 30,000 miles on my bike. I don’t think I’ve been on a bike this much since 1988 and my Huffy’s name was Sweet Thunder.)

We barely made it to the theater at all. But of course, the show was terrific and had a great closing night energy (and someone told us that he loved seeing how comfy and believable P.J. and I were on stage. We explained that we had recently gotten married and I think it ruined a bit of the magic for him.) And Annie and Jared surprised us by attending! They also possess excellent theater laughs- there’s something about friends in the audience that makes me want to direct every one-liner and slapstick moment right in their face and tailor it for their sense of humor. Which is bad for a show in general but excellent for stories.

We rode our bikes home again and I stayed up too late watching- get this- the Bob Saget roast. Not only that, but when it ended…I watched the first ten minutes again. I think my brain just gave up and my feet believed they were still pedaling. So somehow it’s Monday and I only have to ride my bike a combined 12 blocks today. Totally doable.

And welcome to the world, Miss Mary Claire Schoeny! P.J.’s oldest bro and his wife have welcomed their second baby, joining big brother Nathan. Yay Schoeny babies! And yay impending trip to Raleigh!

(And yay naptime.)

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