Living in a new town can be an interesting experience. Aside from having to carry a map everywhere just so I can find my way home, it’s an adjustment to get acquainted with its character. Understandably, a town’s character is heavily decided by the people that live there. (A stunning revelation, don’t you think?) With that being said, I headed to the grocery store. What place represents the local population better than the local grub hall?

I’m living on the south side of Chicago (yes, Karin, I’m aware of the “technical” location of your house, but it’s easier just to say Chicago). Southsiders are a proud bunch. Hard workers. Generally, very blue collar. The Chicago accent is bred here like a prized pitbull.

Everyone in Illinois knows that some areas around here are better than others. There is a marked difference between the northern and southern neighborhoods (and definitely the suburbs). Because of this, I was a bit wary of my knowledge of the area. So I declared a sociological experiment. Off to the grocery store I went.

Step one: The parking lot.
Clean. A wide variety of quality cars. Vehicles abiding to pedestrians.
So far so good.
Although I did note the lack of uber-liberal political bumper stickers. I decided that maybe I had just been living in a college town for too long. hmmm

Step two: Enter and blend.
I decided it was important to at least give the appearance of familiarity. I wanted to keep these southside creatures at ease with a foreigner like myself in their presence. Making a point to purposefully saunter towards the dairy products, I whistled softly while deciding on munster or colby and tactfully read the nutrition labels. No one was the wiser.

Step three: The people.
I stared, but not noticeably. I observed, but wasn’t creepy. In the pasta aisle there was a woman in her early 20’s looking as if she had just come from the gym. In the produce section was a middle aged professional squeezing pomegranates for the perfect ripeness. Not once did I see a crack deal or a hand gun. I got into a conversation about the weather with some random dude. If that doesn’t scream normalcy, then I don’t know what does.

Conclusion: This place is, gratefully, not very bad ass. And that’s totally to my liking. I might as well be in Iowa. Well, maybe that’s too docile of a comparison. I think perhaps it’s the accents that make the place seem much tougher than it is.

Popularity: 29% [?]

Ok, so it’s just one Israeli. And she’s not really invading. Maybe just sauntering. Or roaming. Either way, I can’t wait to be a tour guide!

Many Americans may not realize this but we can travel internationally much easier than people in other parts of the world. Our country imposes cumbersome tourist visa standards (mainly post 9/11) that Americans generally never have to deal with. We can literally hop on a plane to nearly any destination in the world (I’d think twice about Iran or North Korea though) and enter a foreign country with little resistance.

This isn’t the case for foreigners into our fine democracy. There’s a mountain of paper work, an interview, and headaches just to be a tourist in America. But I’m ecstatic to hear that everything went well and I can play the tour guide.

I’m quite excited to get a foreign perspective on America about something as insignificant as street signs to larger issues like social interaction.

But ironically, I don’t remember ever going up the Sear’s Tower (although I’m sure I have, I may just have been too little to recall) nor have I ever been to Navy Pier. Although I certainly know how to use Mapquest and love Chicago just as if I were a resident. I think that’ll be enough to qualify me as a tour guide.

So I may need a little support in this matter. You’ll answer my panicking phone calls, won’t you?

Popularity: 38% [?]

I have been horribly lazy. I’ve been spending my time writing about useless things and not enough of my school work. (A.K.A Massive amounts of pre-1900 literature… gah.) Sparknotes is my savior this week.

And today I ditched school. I ditched school and went to the museum. I’m that kind of geek. Can I be excused from school for a day in order to participate in alternative education? I answer a resounding, “Yes!”. Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry, here I come. Body Worlds exhibition is in town.

It’s the first time actual human bodies have been displayed through plastination. (An artificial hardening of body tissue.) The result is an amazingly accurate display of the different pieces of our bodies: muscles, tendons, organs, etc.

This sort of viewing may disturb some, but it was amazingly accurate and insightful. I’ve never been one to cringe at deceased human forms. In fact, I was given the wonderful opportunity of viewing a cadaver as a teenager during a Human Biology course. We are so complex and fragile yet can endure so much. This has never been clearer to me than it is today.

Passing each body in it’s plasticized form, I couldn’t help but wonder who they were. Why did they decide to allow this? How did they die? What did they do? Of course the details of their lives are left as a mystery to the public. I can’t help but speculate. Afterwards I privately thanked each one in my head for allowing us to learn from the wonders of their bodies. The very fit and muscular man. The obese older gentleman. The pregnant woman with blackened smoker’s lungs. The small and skinny blond. Thank you again.

Popularity: 20% [?]