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World-wind, Whirlwind, Windy City Weekend

An open letter to my mother, aunt, and sister: What is an open letter?  What does that expression mean?  One of the many pseudo-rhetorical questions that was posed on this seven day adventure that lasted four days.  So, I googled it.  It means that it a a letter directed at one or more specific individuals or group, but is ACTUALLY intended for the public.  Therefore, I am in luck because this is in fact an open letter to those aforementioned, but if you want to read it too, that is fine.  This year has been a weird one for me.  For the first time ever, I made a realistic resolution at the beginning of the year.  My resolution was to take better care of myself.  Not in the sense of losing weight or working out more, although those things are in the works, but more like the episode of Seinfeld  where George proclaims his unemployed summer as the "Summer of George" in which he does whatever he wants, including eating inordinate amounts...
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Don't call me whitie.....

I am tired of being called a liberal as though this is equal to being a steaming pile of poo. I do not consider myself to be a liberal. I do not consider myself to be a conservative. In fact, the last time I checked I was an American and entitled to my opinions and you to yours. I think that living in a country with all of our diversity and adversity is what makes us great. I have completely lost sight of what it means to be a liberal. I am simply an American who believes that women have the right to choose. I believe that no matter who you love you should have the same rights as everyone else. I believe that I have a right to choose my own faith or lack of it. I believe if I work hard to make a living and support my family, I should have some say in who I "help" with that money. I believe that drug testing should be mandatory for ALL welfare recipients. I believe in the good that our military is capable of doing at home and globally. I believe the environment is ...
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Don't tie up my barking Chihuahua

12:30 pm on a Saturday morning: It is the middle of winter holiday break and my husband and I have not made it out of bed just yet. Mind you we are not still sleeping, however our children who are downstairs watching cartoons are not privy to this information. Earl, the pitbull who is outside, is barking like the vicious attack dog that he is. He barks for about 5 minutes. Earl does not usually bark. Something must be up... We are "interrupted" by knocking on our front door. My first thought is that the neighbors dog has gotten into the yard and making Earl nuts. My oldest daughter bounds up the stairs to tell us that our neighbor Jared is at the door complaining about the dog barking and that he is keeping the new baby (who will be 2 this year) awake. My daughter has told him that we are still sleeping. We have been friendly with our neighbors Jared and Sara since they moved in a few years ago, however, the tone of our relationship changed noticably since the prima...
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