Since moving to Chicago, Mr. Whirled and I have been seeking out better grocery options. There's a produce market we go to every week - very fresh, very affordable. Trips to Whole Foods and Trader Joe's are more frequent. And yet, this healthy eating hasn't been reflected on the scale. But I digress.

Today we stumbled upon a fresh butcher shop/meat market. I haven't been eating mammals for several weeks, but I thought we could get some fresh chicken and fish. True enough, jumbo shrimp, $4.95 a pound. Boneless chicken breasts for $1.79 a pound. Whole catfish and halibut and ground turkey - oh my!

Now, this was an old school, few-frills butcher shop. For every bit of ground meat, there was a bin of chicken feet or beef tongue. Or hooves. I realize everything can be a delicacy if cooked the right way, and many cultures like to use every part of an animal, unlike us wasteful Americans who don't even do drumsticks so much anymore.

But then, lo and behold, something that struck terror into my heart. Almost enough to make me adopt a vegan lifestyle. Pig heads. Ohhhhhh ... pig heads. I'm talking, straight from a Pink Floyd show, snout and ears and eye sockets, swine heads. How can I go back for the cheap fowl and fish when I know Babe will be staring me down?

Lord.

Finally saw S&tC. It made me miss my long-distance girlfriends, that's for sure. And I didn't realize how much I'd missed Carrie, Char, Miranda, and Sam. And Anthony. Also? Chris Noth has trimmed up. Maybe it's the running around after perps on Criminal Intent. Or maybe a deceased pig head ruined his appetite for several months.

I'm trying to find cover bands IN Chicago and I'm finding Chicago cover bands. As in, you're the meaning in my life. You're the inspiration. Wanna have you near me. I wanna have you hear me say-ay. No one needs you more than I. Need. You. I imagine residents of Boston, Alabama, and, you know, Asia, have similar problems.

Last Tuesday, Mr. Whirled and I traded in our two cars on one new one. City living and walking to work and all (and me telecommuting), it's just not necessary to have two. So we have a brand-new Acura TSX, stick shift (yay) and only one car payment (double yay).

And so.

Last night at 9:30 we are cruising down the highway and the 4-day old car, with 107 miles on it, unceremoniously dies. Engine kills. Mr. W has to skillfully steer it, with no power, to the shoulder. Where we sit for like 20 minutes, every second thinking someone on the Chicago freeway on Halloween weekend will simply crash into us. Friendly emergency vehicle guy tows us off the interstate so out of harm's way but still waiting and freezing. The "helpful" f*cks at Acura say their roadside assistance will take an hour plus, but we have no choice but to wait for them.

We're expecting to hear from the dealer tomorrow as to what in the name of Ethel f*cking Mertz could go wrong with a car within the first 107 miles.

Our luck continues ... remember how I'm trying to think positively? Things like this don't help.

By the way, we currently now have NO car. Thanks.

I just shit the bed with a radio interview with some Denver news/business channel. Very nervous at first. Shaky timbre. But anyway, I addressed the market crash of October 19, 1987, when the Dow dropped about 22% - an equivalent of about 3,000 points today.

Then I got to thinking. At that point, I was in 8th grade, focused on Debbie Gibson and my all-state trombone aspirations and 7th grade boys (always did like the younger men). But TEN years ago, I was already at my current job. How did so much change from 1987 - 1997 but in the past 10 years, not so much? Life is wasted on the young.

And as quickly as you can say "bury the lead," I've been MIA of late because Mr. Whirled and I moved to Chicago. Ummm, yes. He got a job offer on September 26, accepted 27, we moved October 12 for him to start October 15. In the midst of all that, we visited G-A-T for her 30th birthday and enjoyed Sprite's wedding weekend. And found an apartment up here. That translates to one weekend day to pack.

The whole thing was a whirlwind and stressful and it still hasn't sunk in, really, but I think we'll like it here. Big-city life has always appealed to me, what with the walking everywhere and the hustle and bustle and what not. Now if only we could sell our StL house, which is easier said than done in this market. St. Joseph will be working overtime. Future rate cuts should help. And we've got a very lovely home - we just need buyers to LOOK at the thing.

And I'm still only 4 hours from StL, 5 from Cincinnati, and now just 5 from my parents. With regard to Mr. Whirled's family, we've split the difference, because we're 4 hours closer to his Mom but the same amount farther from his Dad/Stepmom/siblings.

Anyone who needs our new address contact me via email.

Now lyric quizzes will begin anew. Sorry to anyone who missed them :-)