Chicago, I Love You.

Oh hi. 

I decided to skip the portion of my blog where I regale the internet with feelings about my recent major life changes (hey, did I mention I moved from Chicago to Brooklyn?) And as I'm pretty awful about keeping this thing up to date, it didn't make much sense to start blathering about it now. 

But blather I will. Y'see, this past week I got to take a quick trip back to my favorite city to see my play, Kate and Sam Are Not Breaking Up, open to a full house, lots of laughs and a modest amount of good press

It was a quick trip. Just a short five days, and it made me feel nostalgic in an unearned sort of way (I've only been gone for about six weeks after all) and sad in an understandable sort of way, and ultimately pretty scared to go back to New York. In three years, Chicago gave me a safe, engaging, challenging life that I loved very much.

These past few weeks in New York have been a lonely, terrifying challenge.

The thing I was reminded of most while being back in Chicago was the incredible support system I had. Made up of friends, artists, and friends who considered themselves "arty"— they were people willing to call out my shit as much as pat my back. Competitors, but friendly competitors. Like in one of those Upworthy videos where one of the sprinters fall and breaks their ankle and the other sprinters stop the race to help them across the finish line. People standing around bonfires, talking about comedy and storytelling and The Craft  over a 3:30AM resin hit. Those kind of people. 

People in New York often ask me why I love Chicago so much. Why I prefer to suffer through the cold, and the buses and endure the lack of celebrity sightings and secret, invite only warehouse parties over the [insert one of the countless things that makes New York objectively speaking the best city in the world] that is New York. I tell'em it's the 3:30AM resin hits. They usually stop talking to me after that.  

Chicago still feels like home. New York feels like an office— A big, astoundingly beautiful and inspiring office full of graffiti and unexpected kindness and subways where you're forced to sit and think about your life choices because you don't have phone service— Where people go to do the kind of important work that they can't get done at their real offices where they sit and write blog posts about their feelings. New York exudes the kind of importance I wanted to deny it for so many years in Chicago, but it's there, and it's slowly growing on me. Inspiring me to be bigger. To be better. 

I'm getting there. 

And hey—! I'm going to my first secret, invite only warehouse party somewhere in Brooklyn on Friday, so maybe things are already looking up.  

Anyway. I didn't come here to write a handful of messy metaphors about Chicago or New York. I came here to plug my show. Go see my show. Did I mention it's Jeff Recommended