Lesley, Sarah:

Thanks so much for taking the time to write about your weeks here at Ragan. They’re helpful and, frankly, gratifying.

Going in, I tried to put myself in your circumstances and to anticipate what a well-rounded experience might be for you here. I also tried to figure out how you would best help us. Certainly your contributions have been solid, your enthusiasm infectious.

I’d like to share your write-ups, with your permission, with Hallie and with Mark Ragan — as I have already done with Roula. Please let me know whether that’s OK.

You’ll be missed after you leave us. Please come back to see us when you’re next in Chicago.

Thank you again for all your fine work.

Enjoy the rest of your summer, and know that you ably held your own in a professional environment.

Best, Rob

*Mark is the CEO of Ragan, and Hallie is our internship coordinator.

Yes, I am reveling in the glow of positive feedback.

But anyway that renewed appreciation only lasted until all the tourists clogging up Michigan Ave got on my nerves and I started swerving really rudely around old women and fat middle aged men and screaming children dragging American Girl dolls.

Once home, I spent a little time trying to look up hair dressers. Taylor showed me this site called naturallycurly.com, and it lists salons that are supposed to be good with natural curls and has reviews. There are only two problems. One, my hair is really more wavy than curly. It’s not like tight spiral curls or fat sausage curls, it’s just kind of curly at the ends and wavy the rest of the way through, so I don’t really know if that’s the site I should be on. Two, a lot of the reviews are old and of salons I can’t afford. I flat out refuse to pay 90 dollars to get a hair cut, I’m sorry, that’s ridiculous. But the cheaper ones seem suspect somehow. So I’m not really sure what to do. I may walk around today and look for a salon. I know they have quite a few right around the neighborhood and I’d like to look in the windows, make sure the place is clean and the people that come out don’t look like the Cookie Monster. (Notting Hill reference.)

I’m really digressing here, forgive me. Anyway. Had dinner with Brian in the cafeteria and then went back upstairs and hung out for a while with my roomies, continuing to look up hair stylists and watching Dexter. Then Carolyn tells us that Mary is really sick, and going to the hospital in an ambulance. She leaves to go check on her. I assume that this is hyperbole and continue to do nothing. Until I see flashing lights and hear sirens outside the dorm. There was LITERALLY an ambulance and a fire truck downstairs. So I go up to Mary’s room, and as I’m walking down the hallway, I don’t see any EMT’s. Their door is closed and the hallway is peaceful. Then I open the door. Full of EMTs and I could hear Mary throwing up. Julie, her room mate, was frantically answering questions from everyone – the EMTs, Loyola representatives, our chaperons, friends stopping by to see what was up… All I could find out was that she’d been throwing up for two hours straight, and I do mean straight, no breaks. I left because I felt in the way, but when Carolyn, Nicole, and Julie went to the hospital, I asked them to text me with updates. They never got in to see her that night, and they didn’t know then, but I will save you the suspense: Mary has an underlying colon disorder or something like that, and when she gets the flu, her body just freaks out. She’s home now, but she’s exhausted. I feel bad for her.

I felt kind of guilty about going out with Sarah too, given the circumstances. I like Mary, she’s a sweet girl, but we aren’t terribly close, so I wasn’t going to sit home all night. Sarah and I met up with her friends at a bar called Uncle Fatty’s. It was pretty fun. There was a lot of dancing and great music and it wasn’t overly crowded. Just kind of loud. Sarah’s friends were really nice too, and they made me feel included when Sarah was dancing with guys and stuff. One guy tried to hit on me, but he wound up offending me, so I was really rude to him. I feel guilty in retrospect, I think he was just a huge nerd who didn’t know what to say to a girl, but his line was terrible and when he tried to apologize I just wanted him to go away and leave me alone. It was a good night though, all in all. We even made friends with our cab driver on the way home, and he told us crazy stories about all the people who had left things in his car – a camera, a cell phone, even a ring this woman’s mother had given her the year before she died. The phone and ring got returned, but the camera he couldn’t find the owner. Really crazy.

Anyway today is cloudy, which is annoying. The weather said it was supposed to be nice! Sarah, Brian and I are going to go find this place called Hot Dougs around 2:30. I think I mentioned it before… best hot dogs in the country, blah blah blah. Then I think I’ll go shopping for Jonathan’s birthday presents, since it’s so crap outside. Hopefully tomorrow will be better weather and we can go to the beach and to the zoo!

In other news, this is my last Friday interning this summer… By this time next Friday I will be walking around Boston with my parents and Jonathan. What a lovely thought. I can’t wait.

I’m going to have to make this weekend count though. My plans include finding Hot Doug’s (said to have the best hot dogs in the world, and my source is Anthony Bourdain), reading my book in the beautiful garden next to the Art Institute, and soaking up at least a few hours of sun at the beach. I also might try to make a hair appointment, because my chances of getting a good cut presumably go up in a large city.

Can’t think of what else I should do that I haven’t done yet. Think I will save the planetarium and aquarium for when I come to visit Jonathan. I heard the admission goes down at Shedd when the summer ends. Anyone got any suggestions about what I should see/do?

We wheeled her suitcase down the city streets and signed her in downstairs, then headed up to my room to drop off her stuff and introduce her to my roommates. We were both hungry, since she had been on the road stuck in traffic for hours and I had only had breakfast. So we decided to head down to this little place called Feast that I had been once before with my friends. They have outdoor seating and delicious veggie burgers, topped with my new obsession: avocados. We caught up and people watched while we ate. The weather was so nice then, breezy and warm.

After lunch, I dragged Taylor down Michigan Avenue to pick up a Cubs shirt for the game Sunday. It was crowded and we stayed close to the road to avoid the tourists walking down the middle of the sidewalk. I think its fun to see all the people and the shops though, even if the Midwestern moms with big hips and wide strollers slow down traffic considerably.

The Tribune store didn’t have the merchandise I’d hoped for, but I went back to the Cubs store and got a white shirt with the Cubs logo on the front. Taylor helped me pick it out, talking me out of a t-shirt that was more jersey style, knowing I would never wear that kind of shirt again.

We were fairly close to Millennium Park, so I took Taylor to see the Bean. I’m always so disappointed by other peoples’ reaction to the Bean, because for me, it was so exciting. I felt six again. I ran up to it, took thousands of pictures, considered myself and the skyline and the tourists from all of the warped and shiny angles possible… It amazed me. I still could spend the entire afternoon sitting beneath it, looking up at the swirling mess of color and sound that is the concave roof. All Taylor said was, “How do they keep that thing clean?”

Despite her less than enthused reaction, we still had fun. We got ice cream from the parlor downstairs and ate it sitting on the big fountain. Then we started walking down to the river, considering walking to the Pier. It started to spit rain and our feet were starting to get sore, so we headed back to my dorm instead of carrying on with the sightseeing. We weren’t too disappointed, but it is annoying that the weather keeps affecting my visits.

At the dorm we hung out for a while, talking more and messing around on Facebook. Then we got ready for the evening, getting dolled up to go out for dinner and out on the town. We decided to go to Vong’s Thai Kitchen, a place Uncle Vic had recommended to my parents when they were visiting. It beat out the other choices because of its late hours. By the time we left the dorm it was about 9:30 and the restaurant didn’t close until 11. Vong’s was surprisingly upscale for one of Uncle Vic’s recommendations. (Not that he doesn’t make good recommendations, just Taylor and I both agreed that they are usually of the more divey variety.) It was all decked out like we were really in Thailand, with dim lighting, palm trees, and strange fans. The waitress was snooty and gave us a rehearsed schpiel about the “Pan-Asian and French influences” and the chef’s “classic” dishes. The food was pretty good, spicy and unusual. Taylor pressured me to try the appetizer, which appeared to be shredded veggies marinated in some kind of sauce, but I refused. In an attempt to make up for this fact, I ordered this weird coconut milk chicken soup. It had mushrooms in it but aside from that it was delicious. The pad thai was great too, except it had bean sprouts, and I don’t particularly care for them.

We walked home afterwards and collected Sarah. My room mates were trying to get us to go out with them, but they were already loud and rowdy and we were looking for a more low-key experience. I didn’t want to stray too far so we started out at a local bar called Streeters, that was pretty divey but fun anyways. We got bored and headed down to what is affectionately called “The Viagra Triangle”, due to the fact that during the day it is mostly older men wining and dining younger women. At night, the bars come alive and the streets flood with college kids and loud music. We bounced around there for a while, trying to find a bar that wasn’t full to bursting. Finally we settled at this one place where we actually had stools by the bar and the drinks came with free little thimble shots. The three of us just sat talking to each other and the guys that came calling. It was fun getting attention, until these two guys got jealous of a friend chatting up Taylor and me. He started saying some pretty rude things and so we high-tailed it out of there. Funny thing is, his jealousy wasn’t necessary: that guy wasn’t getting anywhere with either of us, since we both have boyfriends. He could’ve saved his comments and saved face, but now he just looks like a big jerk. And considering Sarah told him off pretty loudly before we took off, I’m pretty sure he blew his chances with every other girl in that bar. We laughed about it all the way home.

Sunday Taylor and I got pancakes at Tavern On Rush, and then she had to head home. I was sad to see her go, but it was the day of the Cubs game, and I was pretty excited about that. I left later than the other girls because I was hanging out with Taylor, but I managed to find Wrigley Field all by myself. I was pretty impressed with myself, not to mention impressed with the field, which is HUGE. I saw the famous ivy covered walls and a big poster of Harry Cary up in the press box, and the bleachers set up on the tops of nearby apartment buildings, I guess for those who can’t afford tickets inside the stadium. The weather was beautiful again that day, warm and breezy, and we were under the shade, so it was nice to just sit outside with friends, eating hot dogs and cotton candy. Baseball doesn’t really hold my attention so I people watched mostly, but towards the end the game really picked up and I watched the Cubs score a few home runs. We won, so that was great.

Once we got back I just had a quiet night at home, ironing and watching episodes of Dexter with Nicole. The other girls had gone out to the bars around the field to celebrate, but I was too tired. I took a nap, in fact. But I appreciated the time to relax before the start of the work week.

Speaking of the work week… Only two weeks left! And I’ll be seeing Jonathan soon, on the 5^th, which I’m very excited about.

I really like Sarah.

After shopping I stopped by the grocery store to get some bread and jelly (I had dropped the jar of jelly on Monday and the glass shattered and made a huge mess). I made myself some pasta for dinner because I didn’t feel like having turkey, which is what the cafeteria was serving. I made some phone calls, catching up with Allyson and Jonathan, and then we all got ready to go out.

It was actually a lot of fun. Nicole did my eye make up kind of heavy, but in a trashy way, in like a movie star way, and I straightened my hair. I wore my new black shorts with heels – a look I’ve always wanted to pull off. Nicole also put some bronzer on my cheeks and it made me look ALMOST tan. Everyone got impatient waiting for Nicole and I so they left us, knowing we’d catch up. Sarah came down eventually and it was just us three girls and Bryan talking and sipping Vodka lemonades for a while. Then we finally headed out down to Wrigleyville to meet up with the girls.

Amusingly, when we arrived we discovered that the group of Irish boys we’d met a few weekends ago were at Mullens as well. One guy had gotten Carolyn’s number and texted her a million times, but she had never answered. I thought he would be mad, but he was following her around like a puppy, and she was looking annoyed. She had some of the girls go with her to another bar in an attempt to escape him, but of course he followed. I stayed behind with Nicole and Sarah, chatting up the other Irish boys. One of them had set his sights on Sarah and had her off to the side, while Nicole and I talked to these other two boys. I really liked talking to them because they were funny and relaxed, not really touchy-feely or throwing out any dumb lines, or trying anything. We just talked about the differences between Ireland and America, and they tried to teach us some Gaelic, and it was good fun.

Eventually though we decided to join the other girls across the street at Red Vine. Unfortunately, by this time the bar was closing in half an hour and the big angry bouncers wouldn’t let us inside, not even to tell the other girls we were leaving. So we were standing outside trying to decide what our next move would be when we see this BIG guy with a death grip on Carolyn’s forearm. Nicole and some other girls that were visiting Carolyn from Ohio surrounded the bouncer and started yelling at him to let her go, trying to pry his fingers off her. When they accused him of assualt he started yelling, “Call the police, then, call the police!!” I didn’t really know what to do so I just stood there in shock. Finally I guess the girls got him to loosen his grip enough that Carolyn escaped and took off running, her friends chasing after her, and I guess a bouncer chasing after them. I caught up to Julie and asked what had happened, and she rushed through the explanation – something about Carolyn throwing a drink in the face of some girl who had been rude to her friends. Then Julie ran off to follow Carolyn and I turned around to find Sarah and Nicole and explain the situation to everyone else.

I found out this morning that Carolyn had gotten in a cab and told him he’d get a big tip if he would just step on it. She went to some after hours bar and told the other girls, who waved at me from a cab and gave me the name of the place. Sarah and I went down there, but the line was long and we were tired. We hung out for a bit talking to Carolyn, trying to find out what had happened and if she was okay. Her arm hurt and she was afraid she was a fugitive, but she seemed okay otherwise. After the other girls got there, Nicole, Sarah and I decided we didn’t feel like waiting in such a long line and we walked home, stopping at a hot dog place on the way for a late night snack.

All in all, I’d say it was a pretty good night.

Today should be a good day too. Taylor is coming, on her way in fact, just stuck in traffic. I wasn’t sure when she’d be getting here so I’m right ready to go, but she’s not even in Illinois yet. I’m trying to decide if I want to nap or head back down to the Tribune store. I think I’m leaning towards nap.

Let’s set a record for how many times a blogger can apologize for not posting in one summer!!

Last weekend I dropped off the face of the earth, as I usually do when Jonathan’s around. I don’t see him very often so when I do, he becomes the center of my world. (When we lived in the same city I was not half so obsessive, so don’t worry about my sanity.) He picked me up from work on Friday, after getting slightly lost on Lower Wacker. When I opened the door, there were a dozen red roses on my seat. He’s so sweet.

We decided to stay at his cousin’s condo for the weekend, to give us more space and to give me some time away from my room mates. Johnny, his cousin, is really nice, and his condo is too, although it’s not done yet. They moved in just the week before, and so the furniture was kind of in disarray and lots of things were still in boxes waiting to be unpacked, but it’s obvious that once they got more settled, the place will be beautiful. I felt kind of bad imposing on Johnny while the house was in such a shambles, but I thanked him profusely and he assured me that he didn’t mind. His wife and young son were spending the weekend in Toronto, and that made me feel a little bit better. (Women tend to be more self concious about the chaos in their house than men.)

Friday we didn’t do much. Jonathan took me on a walk down to the lake, which is very close to Johnny’s. Then we went to dinner and to ice cream, and then I think we just settled in for the night. The next morning we headed out for Millennium Park, hung out there for a while, and grabbed lunch at the Park Grill. The weather was bad all weekend – raining on and off, mostly cloudy, and unseasonably chilly – and Jonathan didn’t bring a sweater. When it started to rain on the way to Navy Pier, we decided to change our plans and find him a hoody for the trip. He was very specific about what he wanted: a black zip up. We spent FOREVER in H&M while he tried to decide if he liked a purple sweater enough to buy it. I feel bad because I think he really liked that purple sweater, but I had to be honest and tell him that it made him look gay. Which would be fine, except he’s not gay. Or Barney. So. And after I told him that it made him look gay, and he still liked it and felt indecisive, I told him that I didn’t care if people thought he was gay and that if he didn’t either and he liked it he should get it, but I think the damage was already done. He got the black one instead.

We made a quick trip to American Apparel afterwards to see if they had better sweaters in more exciting colors and they did, but none of them fit him right and they were pretty pricey. The things American Apparel sells are marketed towards really thin, Indie guys, and Jonathan’s hockey player arms and shoulders just won’t fit.

After shopping we just came back to my dorm and hung out for a while. He met my room mates and everything. Then at 6:30 we had to go downstairs to get tickets for the comedy club we were going to, Second City. Jonathan and I had to wait around for quite a while before we got our tickets because we had to make sure that none of the people who RSVPed “no” suddenly had a change of heart. Eventually we got the tickets and the show was pretty funny. I will spare you the repeating of jokes, which probably do not translate well into blog format.

Afterwards my room mates were going out on the town but Jonathan and I opted to grab a beer at a little Irish pub across the street from the show instead. It was nice to just sit and sip and not have to worry about dressing up, fending off advances from skeevy club guys, or figuring out where my drunken friends are…

Sunday we went out on Johnny’s boat. We took it out on Lake Michigan and drove south past the skyline and into this harbor right near Soldier Field. It was cold but very fun. We docked the boat and grabbed lunch, and then Johnny had to run some errands so Jonathan and I went home and took a nap and watched a DVD his friend had made of one of their hockey games. Later we went out on the boat again, but this time we went north. The river was a lot choppier later in the day, and Johnny let Jonathan drive, which was a little bit unnerving. But we made it back for a delicious Italian dinner and some more ice cream.

Monday, Jonathan and I ate breakfast together and then Jonathan drove Johnny and me (which is correct English, I learned today at work) downtown and continued on home to Michigan. For some reason this was a particularly hard good bye. I don’t know why, we’ll be seeing each other again soon and we’ve left each other a thousand times before. I cried a little bit while we were still at Johnny’s, but I don’t think anyone noticed. I also had to fight tears that morning at work, and it wasn’t a particularly good day. Sarah and I had lost track of a deadline and Rob seemed disappointed in us. He was cranky most of the week actually. But we got our work done by the deadline anyway, completing work that normally takes two days in less than 6 hours. Pretty efficient, if I do say so myself.

The week has been largely uneventful. Not much really to report. Oh, I did go to something fun on Tuesday. In Grant Park they had an outdoor showing of Duck Soup, an old Marx Brothers movie, and right before they passed out Groucho Marx glasses to try and break a world record for the most people in one place wearing Groucho Marx glasses. Sarah, Brian, and I all went and had a great time. The movie was pretty funny too. I love watching movies outside, I wish they did that in Florida. But then again, it would probably be too buggy and hot…

Tomorrow is Friday, hurray! And Sunday I’m going to a Cubs game. Gotta track down a Cubs shirt for the occasion!

If I ever publish a book I will be ecstatic, if the amount of excitement I have about a little article is any indication.

If you’d like to be blessed by my verbal genius, the link is here. (Click the here.)

Please don’t comment unless you can really pass yourself off as a real corporate communicator. Although my boss actually believed that a comment made by my uncle was an honest opinion from some stranger (thanks be to God), I’m still worried that an influx of positive feedback will make her question the validity of the praise. Also I’d just like to see how many people who don’t love me unconditionally decide to comment. That’s sort of how the success of an article is measured around here, by how much buzz and conversation it generates, and I want to know whether or not I honestly did a good job. So feel free to leave praise and adoration in the comments section of my blog or Facebook, but try to keep it off the Ragan.com site. (Unless of course you are actually a corporate communicator. Then please comment.)

The cherry on top is that Jonathan is coming to visit me tomorrow! I can hardly wait for him to get here, and since my boss is out of the office today, I have little to do to distract myself. I will think up something to keep me busy soon, I’m sure, but for right now, I just keep refreshing my article to see how it’s doing and reading useless news articles in the vain hope that some kind of inspiration will come to me for my next amazing piece. If there is a next amazing piece.

We had a meeting the other day with our bosses, and I don’t know if I mentioned it or not. It was very informal, just a meeting to check in on us, I guess. They said they were very happy with our progress and professionalism, etc etc. They said we were a useful part of the team. They asked us what we thought we had learned so far and what we liked doing and if the job was giving us a better sense of where we wanted to go in life. And during all of this I kind of admitted that I prefer copy editing to writing. Which is a little bit true. Writing articles is as stressful (if not more so) than writing a term paper for school  – you have to come up with an idea and put it together and slave over it and when you’re done, first your editors and then the public at large gets to judge it. Scary bananas. Copy editing is more like doing a crossword puzzle. Can you find the misplaced comma or the unitalicized magazine title?

So I’m a little worried that my expressed preference for editing over writing will prevent them from assigning me another article, but they did say in response that it was useful as a writer or an editor to have experience with both, no matter where your preference lies. Writing as an editor will help you gain respect for style and teach you to edit with the voice of the author in mind; editing as a writer will help you prune out mistakes as you write. So hopefully they will abide by this philosophy and encourage me to continue to write.

Even though it is stressful, there’s nothing more exciting than seeing your name as a by-line.

Everyone check Ragan.com tomorrow and be on the look out for an article by YOURS TRULY!!

I really hope they like it.

And my French is terribly out of practice.

Waiting for my head to clear from the wine before returning to my article. Didn’t even drink that much. Particularly strong wine? Or a subconscious desire to avoid work? You decide.