I'm Holly.  

 

Passionate about: coffee, old buildings, higher education, community development, and all things grammar.


Avoids: weak handshakes, slow walkers, the word "utilize," ignorance, and soft pretzels.

Odds & ends:

  • I am constantly seeking caffeine nirvana. Although I'm trying to perfect my pourover skills at home, you can find me all over the city trying to find the best cortado.

  • My cat, Hazel, is the bee's knees.

  • No matter how much of my life takes place online, I'll always be an undying advocate of snail mail. Give me your address and I'll drop you a card from one of Chicago's talented local artists.

  • Growing up in Kansas City, I never wanted to go to college in nearby Lawrence, but the Jayhawks will always have my heart come basketball season.

  • Music is my lifeblood. See what I'm listening to today.

  • Two of my greatest passions can be found in cities' past (historic preservation) and in their present and future (urban planning). I'm lucky to live in a city that showcases plenty of both.

Documenting life: 

I asked @lydia_inthehouse to paint a family portrait to celebrate our engagement and she delivered! 🥰
Hey we’re getting married here
I woke up in a funk today. If you know me well, you probably know—or could surmise—that I’ve woken up in a funk more mornings than not in the last….what? Three months? Six months? Nine months? Despite bringing coffee in a mug, and despite the persistent feelings about my body that have plagued me for the last year, I decided that a festive drink at Starbucks might brighten my mood once I got to Evanston. Walking toward the store, I saw a man outside sitting on his red milk crate. He’s there most mornings. I smiled at him as I usually do, and he asked if I had any spare change for the train to help him get downtown. I don’t usually carry cash, so I asked if he’d like coffee. I brought him a Pike (and a dollar I found in my wallet), and stood with him and chatted while he warmed up and got his cream and sugar. And I’ve got to tell you, this brief exchange did more for my funk than any 250-calorie beverage ever could. I don’t say this for a pat on the back. I say this because it’s a reminder that I made a choice that altered the outcome of my morning. (His, too, I hope.) I have spent the last I-don’t-know-how-long grasping for control of things laughably out of my control: office politics, the quality of my education, the speed of my recovery. It's made me low-key miserable. But you know what I am in control of? My time. My energy. My actions. We get to make choices, even in the midst of chaos. If we're lucky, those choices may even guide us out. All of which is to say, I’m taking the rest of the year to recalibrate. I don’t know what will center me going into the new year, but I know that I need to think about it. To start, I probably won’t be on social media much through the holidays. (This is a screen shot from an email I get from @caitflanders. You should subscribe.)
Being home means time with family and also getting a little bit drunk at weird times of day.
✨
Reppin’.
Let’s go!
Have you ever been in a relationship where, no matter how much you cared for the person, you just knew in your bones it wasn't a fit? Maybe a good time to you was curling up with a book or a movie on a Friday night, and to them, nothing sounded better than being at a bar with friends. No, Tony and I are fine—we are those people who curl up together, in fact. I ask this because I feel compelled to say why you won't see Theo in my feed anymore. • I don't know if Theo would like going to the bar, but the guy wants nothing more in life than to run around with a bunch of friends. (Hazel is not that friend.) We couldn’t give him what he needs, and it's not fair or enjoyable for anyone to keep him here and try to make it work. I've ended relationships with humans that I know are not a good fit, and returning Theo to the Catcade was not much easier except that he's a cat and can't talk back, which, in a way, maybe made it worse. • Hazel, as you can imagine, is elated. I have been spontaneously crying for 24 hours and counting. Shelly at @thecatcade is an angel. Hug your furry friends.
I’m not crying, you’re crying.
Wishing we were back on the road.
ombré.