Here we go...

Greetings!

We're off to a typically rough start with this thing, as I've already written and then accidentally deleted my first post.  It'd be impossible to recreate the genius hilarity a second time, so you'll have to live with what I've cobbled together here, instead.

This is a story of my family.  I live with my little sister Molly and our dog Hank in Pilsen.  We really dig Chicago, but we dig each other more (though our battles are pretty epic).  It seems that every day something bizarre and unbelievable happens at our house, and I'm documenting it all for posterity here on the Internets. 

Monday night, the Penthouse:

Molly and I have struggled lately to find time to hang out.  Molly's been working crazy hours at the pie shop and partying with the Brians (more on them later), and I'm having trouble adjusting to my adult schedule of crock pot cooking, pinning, walking Hank, and making it to bed by 8:30 so I can re watch the Twilight movies and catch up on Breaking Bad.  Accordingly, it was a small miracle when Molly and I both found ourselves at home at 6pm on a Monday, highly sober, and ready for some girl talk.

The usual subjects were covered: Molly's seeing someone new, but I've been sworn to secrecy and she's being stingy with the details. I'm nit-picking for issues with Rich because I can't believe how damn well things have been going.  We're both pumped up about our impending move to a new apartment that has both a dishwasher and laundry.  So over 4 glasses of Chardonnay (me) and cheesy ravioli (Mol), we proceeded to delve into the uninteresting minutiae of our mostly unimportant and dull young adult lives.  Meanwhile, Hank wrestled his doggie bed with the reckless abandon usually reserved for rabid animals devouring the flesh of their struggling prey, chewed the cable cords and rubber plant leaves, and trolled the house for q-tips or bits of paper to munch on.  All in all, it was a festive and cozy evening.

I'll be sad to move out of the Penthouse in a few weeks.  We've called this little apartment home for the better part of two years, and ever since Bridget moved in down the hall it's really felt like our little family is complete.  Nothing compares with miming silently to Bridge across the "courtyard" first thing in the morning with a killer hangover and the promise of Mexican breakfast looming near.  Or bounding down three flights of stairs with Hank at 4:30 AM praying he can hold it until we're outside.  Or shrieking out the windows at the neighbors to please, for the love of God, take the fighting down the block so I can sleep.  Or even politely asking the homeless man who feeds the cats in the abandoned laundromat on the first floor to please stop feeding them because they are multiplying and starting to take over the entire building.  The joys of urban living are truly limitless, and I only expect the hilarity to continue when we move 4 blocks west.

Before we delve too deeply, I suppose I should introduce you to some people and places I've been mentioning, on the off chance someone who isn't related to me happens to be reading:

Hank - 7 month old Weimeraner.  Exhibits completely psychotic behavior on a regular basis.  Only knows the words "sit", "no", "Hank", "bacon", "go in your crate", "down", and "out".  Needs at least 5 walks daily to be even remotely tolerable.  Is growing at an alarming pace.  Basically the reason we need to move to a bigger apartment, across from a park, on the first floor, with a basement we can lock him in during the day so we don't get evicted due to noise complaints.

the Brians - Two upstanding gentlemen that Molly and I have had the pleasure of knowing since high school.  They are now roommates, who live a short walk from our apartment in Pilsen.  They once joked about starting a cleaning company with a mildly racist name based on a combination of their two last names.  Today, Brian #1 works at production company and liquor store and enjoys whiskey and tacos.  Brian #2 works the graveyard shift at CVS and loves Hank and sweater vests.  They're both staples in our lives, and certainly always the last ones to leave a party.  

Bridget - Our cousin, and a real party animal.  She has a killer wardrobe that Molly and I both borrow from frequently.  She'll be moving in with us at the new apartment, which makes me just as pleased as punch.

Rich - If you've seen the YouTube video "Bro Science", you basically know Rich.  He's a real card, and pretty easy on the eyes, too.

the Penthouse - Our home.  This is neither a Penthouse nor particularly luxurious.  It's actually a pretty crappy walk-up on the 3rd floor of a 4-story building.  On the plus side, there's no carpeting, we have a killer view of the Chicago skyline out our front windows, and we can crawl out Molly's window onto the neighbor's roof for secret barbecue parties or to get drunk on our lawnchairs while watching the sun go down.  Not bad digs at all.

Welcome to the party!