No, it hasn't. Thanks for reminding me.

It's easy to forget that Sarah's due date was an estimate—not an appointment. In most cases, post-term pregnancies aren't really "late"; they stem from miscalculations of the time of conception...

" />

No, it hasn't. Thanks for reminding me.

It's easy to forget that Sarah's due date was an estimate—not an appointment. In most cases, post-term pregnancies aren't really "late"; they stem from miscalculations of the time of conception...

" />

No, it hasn't. Thanks for reminding me.

It's easy to forget that Sarah's due date was an estimate—not an appointment. In most cases, post-term pregnancies aren't really "late"; they stem from miscalculations of the time of conception...

" />
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Week 39: Department of No Labor

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Every time my phone rings at work, I think, Here we go. I look at the calendar: This is the day. I look at my clothes: This is what I’m going to be wearing in all the pictures. Usually, it’s someone calling to ask my least favorite question: “Has the baby come yet?”

No, it hasn’t. Thanks for reminding me.

It’s easy to forget that Sarah’s due date was an estimate—not an appointment. In most cases, post-term pregnancies aren’t really “late”; they stem from miscalculations of the time of conception…

The Singles Bracket Declares a Winner

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It started in a bar, as so many ideas do: an NCAA-tournament style bracket for singles. A friend of mine and I had been weighing the benefits of one
arty activity over another, with the deciding factor being, well, men. As
in, when you’re over the Saturday night bar scene, where else can you go to
meet people? It got me thinking: what if you canvassed the arts & culture
scene and plotted out the possibilities on a bracket? …

Beyond the Bar Scene

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Sometimes Cupid needs a little help. Meet a few singles who were looking for love, and the matchmakers—both old-fashioned and newfangled—that brought them together.

Week 39: St. Annoyance

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Here’s what it’s like sharing a bed with 39-weeks pregnant woman. Or, at least, with mine.

Early this morning, I was sleeping peacefully when I felt a tugging on my shirt. I rolled over and Sarah was staring at me, wide awake.

“What’s up?” I asked. “Is it time?”

“No. I’m miserable.”

“What’s the matter?”…

“I’ve got a fucking human being in my stomach, that’s what’s the matter.” …

The Singles Bracket: The Championship Game

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The guitar lessons were great, but did the crush on the teacher remain just that—a crush?

And what goes better with a pick-up line—a Black Cat espresso or a Miller Light on a doily?

We present the championship match-up…

Hallmark Holiday

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Brittney’s pick:
Valentine’s Day can be too mushy sometimes. I love this shot by Flickr user Ankylosaur. The single heart and stark black-and-white trees are at once heartwarmingly cute and desolately chilling. They perfectly encapsulate the moods of both lovebirds and the lovelorn on this day.

Esther’s pick: I can’t imagine anyone would ever buy such a demonic-looking stuffed animal for his/her loved one. Myself? Chocolates in a heart-shaped suede box from a buddy who probably would have bought the scary bear below had he seen it first…

The Singles Bracket: Final Four

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Even though an anonymous commenter called it a place “full of dumb yupps,” the soccer league at Sport & Social beat out the marathon running group.

But what will happen when kicking balls goes head-to-head with waiting for a cold one at the Friendly Confines?

The field has narrowed yet again. Here, the Final Four…

The Singles Bracket: Elite Eight

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Will country-punk Carol’s edge out late-night perennial Marie’s? Is the
pick-up scene better in a marathon training group or a soccer league?

It’s
time to find out which Chicago hot spots make it to Singles Bracket: Elite
Eight. Drumroll, please…

Week 38: Cry Wolf, Cry Uncle

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Sarah was breathing strangely in bed the other morning, and I asked what was up. “I think I’m having this baby,” she said. My heart stopped. It’s go time. And I’m ready.

For the next hour we tried to figure out whether or not she was in labor. After consulting multiple books, and timing what we imagined were contractions, we’d reached our conclusion: She had gas…

The Singles Bracket: Sweet 16

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I’m choosing to ignore all Valentine’s Day madness for something far more
representative of my current milieu: a Chicago Singles’ Sweet 16. Inspired
by the basketball madness that is March, in the next few days, I will whittle down the best
cultural events/spots for meeting a potential mate (Note: whether “mating”
is just for the evening or for longer term is purposefully not specified, as it is
usually indeterminable from first meeting)…