Mathis on the Move!

I'm gettin' bugged drivin' up and down this same old strip and, like Brian Wilson and Mike Love, I gotta find a new place where the kids are hip.

A whopping three years, six followers, 155 blog posts and — arguably less impressive — excess of 21,000 page views (thanks, Mom!) later, I'm putting on my big girl pants and moving to Wordpress. But who's counting?

I am pretty jazzed about my big virtual move and hope you will continue to follow the rose-colored musings of a 75-year-old woman trapped in a 24-year-old body.

Over at Wordpress.

Wait, did I mention that I am moving to Wordpress? 

It bears repeating: "Megalopolis" is moving to Wordpress. 

I actually moved over there and started unloading my old furniture, and so far it's really great! Crown moldings and everything. The neighbors seem pretty rad, too.

Girl, I know you bookmarked this site, so you'll want to change your favorite link to Wordpress. 

Tell your friends! And don't forget to hide your kids, hide your wife and hide your husband.

Look forward to seeing you on the other side! By which I mean Wordpress.

For nostalgia's sake, I might keep this Blogger account up and running. Or, maybe I won't. Que sera, sera, y'all.

Nerd Alert — Literary Sidewalk Sale This Weekend!

The bankruptcy of Borders left a hole in my heart that no Barnes & Noble could ever replace.

Turns out that Michigan Avenue’s loss is actually my gain. I have forced myself to explore the infinite, charming abyss that is Chicago’s indie bookstore scene.

In my book, these are the best places to get your geek chic on:

Seminary Co-Op Bookstore
If you haven’t been to this literary labyrinth yet, hurry! This bookstore is located in the bottom of a seminary on the drool-worthy University of Chicago campus, but Seminary Co-Op will be moving after 50 years at this underground maze-like location. Just when you think the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves zig, they zag. Suffice it to say there is a very necessary color-coded floor plan, but don’t be surprised if you get lost. 

Fun fact: Seminary Co-Op features the largest selection of academic texts in the United States. Walk in here and you will just feel smarter.

Another fun fact: Seminary Co-Op also has sibling bookstores: The Newberry Library Bookstore in the famed research library in Chicago’s Gold Coast, and 57th Street Books, also in Hyde Park. Michelle Obama is a big fan of 57th Street Books, and I am a big fan of the FLOTUS, so use the transitive property on this one.

Powell's Bookstores, Chicago
It is always hard for me to keep a secret, but I cannot keep my lips zipped about how incredible this is. I am also reluctant to categorize Powell’s as a used bookstore because the selection is so current, and to top it off the prices are beyond reasonable. I scored a mint condition 2009 hardcover for $6 at the Hyde Park location and am still super jazzed about it, and I also picked up a few British editions that look brilliant. 

Fun fact: Barack Obama frequented Powell's in Hyde Park, which is a nice little walk from his manse (trust me). Politics aside, we can all agree that the man can read. 

O'Gara and Wilson, Ltd.
This is, pun intended, the textbook definition of an old, classic bookstore. It’s very Ralph Lauren, if you will. The rich, musky scent of beloved tomes hits you right as you walk in, and the place has a dynamite vintage magazine collection. I scored a 1974 issue of The Saturday Evening Post that I cannot wait to have framed:

Fun/terrifying fact: There is a life-size monk sitting at the very back of the shop. According to O’Gara and Wilson Ltd., the monk is called Jerome. When my mother and I walked in, we made a beeline for the creeper in the back. Don’t believe me? Here’s proof that I’m (not?) crazy:

Open Books
If You've Got Mail's Kathleen Kelly had a quirkier, tree-hugging sister, she’d have owned Open Books. Near Moody Bible Institute and just a hop, skip and a jump from the Chicago Brown Line stop, Open Books boasts bookshelf upon bookshelf in what resembles a 64-color box of Crayola. The welcoming loft atmosphere features used books in nearly every genre, and proceeds from the Open Books store go toward the non-profit’s literacy program, which helps kids and youth connect with reading and writing. Reading for a cause? That’s one for the books.

Fun fact: Open Books will be having its second annual sidewalk sale this weekend from noon to five Saturday and Sunday, with books priced from $1 to $3. Hope to see you there!

Photos by Meg Mathis and Susan Mathis

Top Dog

I know I am not alone here, but I hate goodbyes. So I knew that today's adoption party for Red, the beloved paralyzed pitbull, would be bittersweet.

Red has been a fixture at PAWS Chicago well before I started volunteering, and looking around at the men, women and children who came to celebrate his new forever home, I could tell that Red had touched a lot of people. 

I know that Red will be missed at PAWS. I also know that the staff and volunteers are happy that Red has a future with a great family — including his new "brother," Razor — that he more than deserves.

After watching him wheel around PAWS' adoption center at the speed of lightning and greet each guest with lots of love, I know that nobody is more excited for this next chapter than Red. He is ready for a new adventure.

See you around, Red!

Photos by Meg Mathis

Tomorrow—Let's Paint the Town Red

In the great debate of cats versus dogs, I am hands-down a dog person. But I am also a dog person who lives in a cat-only apartment complex, so life can be, well, ruff. 

This is where PAWS Chicago comes in. 

PAWS (Pets Are Worth Saving) is America's largest no kill animal shelter. I started volunteering a couple months ago to get my dog fix, and although it is a relatively new experience it is unbelievably rewarding all the same. 

While PAWS takes in cats and dogs alike, I gravitate toward Dog Town, where I have a blast walking and playing with dogs of all shapes and sizes (literally) and caring for them during their transition to the life all animals deserve in a forever home.

And I am absolutely thrilled that Red, a legendary PAWS pitbull, has found a forever home. 

Things have not been easy for Red, who was shot after saving his previous owner's life during an armed robbery. This courageous guy has been at PAWS for a few years and now gets around with the help of a cart. 

Soon Red will be moving into his new forever home — but not before saying "so long for now" to PAWS. Join PAWS tomorrow from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m. for an open house celebration as we celebrate one lucky dog who is finally having his day.

Brad About You

The only thing better than hearing Brad Goreski laughing is hearing Brad Goreski laughing in person.

In true Brooks Brothers style, the signing event for Brad's autobiography, Born to be Brad, was classy and fabulous and included an incredibly good-looking catering staff passing around colorful fresh fruit kebabs, popcorn, lemonade and iced cookies in the shape of bowties and sunglasses.

I passed on the munchies because, as we all know, I am hardly accident prone and was terrified of spilling fruit juice all over my kelly green pants. Also, I worried that if I ate something my chewing would overpower Brad's sweet giggle, which echoed throughout the oak-laden walls of Brooks Brothers.

When I walked up to Brad and he adorably exclaimed, "Look at you!" right away, I knew I was golden. He said he loved my black-and-white trench, and when I told him it was from Loehmann's — I'm a pretty cheeky girl, after all — he loved it even more. We chatted for a few minutes and he was as lovely as he was impeccably dressed, reinforcing that he is hands-down my favorite Canadian. (That bowtie! Those socks!)

Admittedly, I did hope that Gary would emerge from one of the fitting rooms singing "One Day More" with Ron Swanson watching by the fire. A girl can dream!

But meeting Brad was a dream come true, and he is just such a fun, real guy. He is the type of person who just brightens your day.


Photos by Brooks Brothers and Meg Mathis

Always Greener on the Other Hyde

In a way, it's fate that brought me to Chicago and made me a proud Loyola alumna.

Once upon a time, I was a 10-year-old kid who couldn't get enough of Chicago. I went to the original American Girl Place (in The Peninsula Chicago building where Anthropologie now is ... womp, womp) for the first time, and it was the most exciting thing ever. As my family crossed Chicago Avenue, we saw a sign by the Loyola University Museum of Art (LUMA), and my parents explained to me that Loyola University Chicago is a college that's literally around the corner.

Somewhere between Baumhart Place and Ghirardelli, it hit me: I'm a city girl.

Fast-forward to 17-year-old Meg, who was still a wee rapscallion just searching for the right college. Turns out Loyola was everything I was looking for, and I made it my only choice for Chicago schools.

Lucky for me, this spared me the agony of having to apply to other great Chicago schools, since I had weeded those out previously. I lack art skills (Here's looking at you, School of the Art Institute of Chicago and Columbia College Chicago), had no desire to study in Lincoln Park (Sorry, DePaul University) and thought Evanston was not only way too far away—heck, it's a different city entirely—but also eerily similar to my hometown (thanks, but no thanks, Northwestern University!).

You'll notice that University of Chicago was not even on my 17-year-old radar, for which I kick myself daily.

Hyde Park is hands-down my new favorite spot in Chicago. Throughout the past few months, I have had the luxury of exploring the UC campus and diving into the surrounding neighborhoods, where the scenery is gorgeous and the culture is vibrant.

Sometimes I forget that I have plenty of time to explore. At the end of the day, I'm still that same girl who can't get enough of this city—now, I just have a major credit card on me at all times instead of a Sanrio coin purse.

And if there is one thing I know, you're never too young or old to figure out exactly what you want.

Photos by Meg Mathis

Hustle and Bustle

Like the Ventures, I would much rather walk than run. And while I am at it, sometimes I might rather read a magazine or sleep in my footed pajamas than walk.

Blame it on a decent metabolism or terrible hand-eye coordination, but I have never been a big fan of exercise. Sure, I could walk these city streets all day — and I certainly have — but generally it’s the promise of a department store sale or a cup of coffee that pumps up my kicks.

So in early January when I told my family that I had signed up for 15th Annual Hustle Up the Hancock, I wasn’t exactly surprised to be met with shock and dismay. The very notion of climbing 94 flights of stairs up one of the biggest skyscrapers in the world is pretty major.

But I am a “balls out” kind of girl, and if anyone can learn new tricks it’s this old dog. I had plenty of personal reasons to participate in Hustle Up the Hancock, none more meaningful than climbing in loving memory of my late Aunt Judy to advocate for healthy lungs.

But where to begin? While taking the elevator downstairs to my basement gym did, in a sense, reinforce my lazy behavior, it did give me the perfect excuse to check out some of my neighbors for better or for worse. And while those first few fairly intense workouts were all well and good to get my motor running, let’s face it: The StairMaster is child’s play when compared to the physical act of walking up seemingly endless staircases.

So, I did just that: I began climbing up my mid-size apartment building in increments of 10 flights of stairs, creating a pretty disciplined training schedule to ensure that I would make it to climbing at least 90 sets by the Hustle on February 26.

And I did.

Nine of my favorite co-workers and I climbed 94 flights of stairs to the Hancock Observatory last Sunday, and I could not be prouder of our team. Personally, I climbed the John Hancock in 22 minutes and 56 seconds, but I owe a lot of credit to the musical stylings of Mick Jagger, Keith Richards et al.

Rockin' the velcro. You didn't think I own normal tennis shoes, did you?

While I devoured my banana in the immediate afterglow, I gazed down upon the city whose streets I know so well, thinking that I might be more athletic than I once realized. All joking aside, Hustle Up the Hancock is a cause I am honored to have gotten behind, and I am already looking forward to next year’s event.

But right now, I’m just looking forward to curling up with the new issue of New York magazine in my footed pajamas. They are, after all, only an elevator ride away.

Photo by Susan Mathis