Elizabeth Nolan Brown // Blog

media. music. feminism. food. city-dwelling. story-telling. and other things.

Posts Tagged ‘Chicago

Chicago. March. 80 Degrees.

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Written by Elizabeth

March 19, 2012 at 8:54 am

Posted in Photos, Travel

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Curio: 2/11/11

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Everything this man posts, I want to be my life. Why am I not around this firepit? Why don’t I know this guy with the goggles? I own a buckskin hat, but why have I never placed a large feather in the side of it? Why don’t I own a VW Van? Or have a wolf tattoo? Why, my god, have I never visited the South?
[As a soundtrack while checking out Refueled’s blog, you may want to listen to the Woodsist ‘Welcome Home/Diggin’ the Universe’ LP, which I’m just first hearing this week. There are Cure and Grateful Dead covers! It’s amazing in that Chocolate Bobka ‘Sunday Morning Brunch’-y way. I’m also very much enjoying Woodsist’s newest, the White Fence ‘Is Growing Faith’ LP.]
There are, of course, times when this nearly becomes one’s life. These photos. I had a lot of moments like these this past August and September, ambling about California shooting a western and road-tripping with friends in and out of the goddamn cobras. I am telling you all of this about California mostly so I can link to a project just finished by my friend Jackie, documenting another goddamn cobras roadtrip, the summer before last (I was, somewhat regretfully, not on this trip, as I was between D.C. and Brooklyn that August with a month-long layover in Ohio),  when a group of these Brooklyn kids drove out to Boulder, Colorado, and back.

I’m in Chicago right now, where I spent last Friday night hanging out in a genuine igloo, so I’m a little bit daydreamy about the West again right now. Luckily I should be visiting California again soon …  And then, maybe, to find a home. Or a good VW van, at least …

Written by Elizabeth

February 11, 2011 at 4:52 pm

What to expect when your blogger’s expecting

with 8 comments

Since I’ve already begun telling so many people in real life (including, finally, my mother), I might as well come out with it digitally: I am expecting. A baby. Well, at least I hope it’s a baby (just before I found out I was pregnant, my sister had a dream I gave birth to a zombie cat). It turns out my uterus is not, as I casually suspected, inhospitable to life.

I am not freaking out too much, yet. Or, rather, I have known for almost 2 months now, so have passed the major freak-out period (OMG I ate pot cookies in San Francisco a week after the baby was, unbeknownst to me, conceived! and the like). I have prenatal vitamins. I’ve quit almost all of my vices (caffeine has proven to be tougher than alcohol & cigarettes combined, though I’m going with the latest research that says up to 200 mg a day is okay). My best friend and her husband (the only close friends of mine who already have a child) sent me a box full of “What to Expect” books, a picture frame for the ultra-sound photo, snack bars, an adorable baby lamb stuffed animal (organic wool, of course), and a wire coat hanger—“Just in case (sorry it’s not rusty)”—because that is the kind of lovely but sick friends I have. She also tells me her mother is already knitting me a baby blanket. And my grandmother is searching out her trusty old pencil-on-a-string so, she says, they can determine the baby’s sex while I’m home for Thanksgiving.

Because I am the kind of person who shares way too much personal information in public forums—no, it was not planned.

But because I am also the kind of person who believes, in the abstract, that abortion is a more-or-less morally neutral act—yes, this is a choice.

So! I’ll accept your congratulations. Or your warnings, pregnancy tips, reading suggestions or cartons of ginger ale (“morning” sickness OMG).

And because I am an insufferable yuppie, I suppose (*side tangent: if, in the 60s, hippie yuppies were nicknamed “yippies,” what do you call today’s hipster yuppies? yipsters?*), the two books I have so-far purchased include The ECO-nomical baby guide and Origins: How the nine months before birth shape the rest of our lives. This last book, and all the recent scientific research it summarizes (you can check out an abbreviated version from Time magazine) is terrifying from both a personal and a societal standpoint, let me tell you. But more on that later.

Which is I guess the last point I wanted to make: Oh, my!, are you probably about to get an eyeful of feminist-tinged pregnant lady rants. Please don’t be worried—I promise not to start writing about the latest in diaper bag technology or anything like that. I just imagine that people’s expectations for me and my fetus are gonna provide ample opportunity for commentary. Hopefully, it will be fun for us all!

I’m also gearing up for a move to Chicago, because I apparently need to complete my trifecta of stints in Cities Midwestern People Move To (isn’t there some sort of toaster I can win for this?), having already spent some time now in NYC and Washington, D.C.

Now: Do I start working towards bylines in Parenting or on Babble?

Written by Elizabeth

November 1, 2010 at 7:01 am

Posted in Story-Telling

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