Pete Nickeas

What better way to dust off this blog than to announce that Erin and I were married this weekend.

It was a beautiful ceremony at the Birdhaven Greenhouse in Joliet. It rained a good chunk of the morning, and on the ride between the wedding and the reception … but the sun was out during the ceremony.

Erin was wearing a stunning ivory dress with muted designs across the midsection. The classy and elegant dress was a reflection on her physical beauty as much as her character.

All the men were wearing gun metal gray tuxedos with white shirts. The groomsmen were wearing green vests, the ushers and our fathers were wearing black, and I was wearing ivory.

The wedding party walked into “Here Comes the Sun,” by the Beatles. Erin was walked up the aisle by her father to the theme song from Forest Gump. When our 10 minute ceremony was complete, we walked back down the aisle to Sweet Home Chicago.

We took a limo from the wedding to my grandfathers house. He fell ill a few weeks ago and is recovering but unable to attend - so the whole wedding party crammed into his apartment for photos.

We departed his house for the reception at a VFW hall in Villa Park. The wedding party walked in to Eric Clapton’s “Layla” and Erin and I walked in to Bill Withers’ “Lovely Day.”

Before dinner, we toasted to my younger brother Mike — serving in southern Afghanistan in the 1st Marine Battalion of the 2nd Marine Division of the United States Marine Corps. He is halfway through his second foreign deployment and was unable to attend the ceremony.

Erin and I scarfed food and started stopping by tables and talking with people. I only had a brief opportunity to drink in the limo on the way up — my guys were carrying flasks full of Jameson and I had a couple sips but had to keep composed while we made the rounds later that evening.

After touching base with 130 people at 16 tables (and sneaking a shot from the bar), we danced.

Our first dance was to Nina Simone’s moving “Feeling Good.” Erin danced with her father to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

After that, all our Public Affairs Reporting friends and the Mack family on Erin’s side tore up the dance floor something serious. I’ve never seen so many people dancing so enthusiastically in my life. Many people danced. But the PAR people and their dates were something else.

At that point, Erin and I fell into a routine for about 3 hours — dance, run to the bar, get held by whoever was there for shots (”He’s the groom, get him a shot of Jameson” or “Come here Erin, you look beautiful, let’s do a shot”), down the hatch, back to the dance floor.

I don’t know that I can adequately describe the immense feelings of happiness both Erin and I felt that evening. We are blessed to have so many people we consider friends.

Photos in the days to come.

I gotta say, the transition to Wyoming has been far smoother than I anticipated.

Not as much in my personal life as it has been at work, which, has been a smooth transition … but it’s been difficult at times. We can’t just, on a whim, walk around the city. I mean we could, but the city is only a few blocks wide by a few blocks tall and stuff shuts down at like 5. So what’s the point?

But work, I mean, I feel like I’ve been there a long time and it’s been a month. I just kinda got there and started working.

Anyway, I have this problem where I’m always forward looking. SOUNDS GREAT RIGHT? It’s not. Because I have a hard time being happy in the present. At work, I bet the bosses love it because I’m always pushing myself but it’s not great for me because I feel like a bitch when I mess up or when I’m running in place.

Progress is the name of the game! Not just in work, but in everything. Not having a ‘next semester’ to look forward to is weird. I’m learning to pace myself.

Anyway, that being said, I’m looking forward to the next few months. I’ve got a lot of stuff I’m looking into at work, I’m beginning to settle at home, and our finances are improving just because both Erin and I are making some money right now.

I still am having a little trouble settling though. I miss some of the big-city amenities. It’s just going to take time is all.

ALSO! If you buy a couch and it reeks or is hideous then get a drop cloth to throw over it. We got two big ass drop cloths for a total of 50 bucks and they’re super solid. They’re durable, have a cool industrial smell to them, and don’t tear easily. What more could you ask for?

I’m gone from Springfield.

And, I thought the town was kind of dumpy when we arrived and moved in.

But after spending a year there, I’m convinced that it’s about as close to a good mix between urban and rural as you’re going to get. All the big city stores aren’t there, but we’re broke. So, that’s probably good. There’s a few nice bars downtown, and Floyd’s will always be near and dear to my heart. JP Kelly’s, too, if only for the few times we went there in the waning days of our (Public Affairs Reporting) careers.

The fact that it’s the hub of the immensely far-reaching Illinois political scene makes it all the more attractive. If it weren’t the state capitol, the metro area would probably be out around 20,000 state workers and their kids/families, and the town would shrivel up a bit. Springfield is nice.

The people I met there were great. As a rule, I generally don’t like people. But I met a lot of people here I like - in the PAR program mostly. It’s easy to “like” politicians but a lot of them are, well, I suppose politicians is the best way to describe them.

But in all seriousness, I’m geeked to have met so many cool people. I didn’t keep up with anyone from high school really and I don’t keep up with too many people from college but the people I’ve met here, I do think I will keep in contact with - be it mass email chains or random facebook activity. Good people.

So the only reason I can’t wait to leave Springfield is because I want my life with Erin to begin. And in Springfield, it can’t.

So it’s off to Wyoming we’re going. This may be the last blog for at least a week while we get situated but we will be checking in as soon as possible.

Until then … PEACE!

So, getting married is turning out to be, well, two things basically: an expensive proposition, and difficult to plan from 1100 miles from the wedding and reception site.

I don’t know how it’s going to work, but we’re still keeping our plans for a June 5 wedding in the south suburbs of Chicago. It’s still going to be a big ass party, and everybody is still going to be invited.

What blows is, I think there’s a pretty decent chance two of my brothers are going to be in Iraq. It sucks. I don’t hold it against them because they’re marines, that’s what they do. They go to Iraq. Hell, Mike’s already been there once and he’s trying to squeeze two more tours in before his five year contract runs out.

So the bridal party is thinning out on my side, it looks like.

On the agenda:
Good music (worry not, I’ll find a way to squeeze Jurassic 5 in there)
Optional car-bombs in the place of a traditional wine toast
No awkward hand-holding or dancing for people who don’t know each other

I’m hoping that we can fly back, get married, then go on a honeymoon. That’s how it works right? I don’t know. We basically have to concede a day of travel bot to and from Wyoming for the wedding and there’s probably going to be a couple vacation days used in there, too.

We’ll see how it goes. But we are less than a year away.

So, this is going to be interesting.

I got a job. Hell yea! I got a job. And I’m heading out west sucka … cause I wanna be a cow-boy babbbyyy! Ok, enough channeling Kid Rock.

But for real, I got a job in Casper. The bosses seem cool, and since accepting, a couple other people from the company contacted me to see what’s up and see if they could point me towards apartments and stuff. How cool is that?

Anyway, I’m not a total stranger to the ways of the west.

Some of my favorite artists are from the west coast - Zion I, Dilated Peoples, Jurassic 5, and Murs. If “west” is considered left of of the mighty Mississippi, then I’ve BEEN west. I’ve been to St. Louis. I’ve been to Minneapolis. I even took a plane to San Diego - TWICE!

So, I’m not at all worried about adjusting. Not worried about living in an dry and elevated climate with little annual rainfall and a lower average temperature than what I’m accustomed to. Not worried about the relative lack of diversity - something I’ve come to enjoy about Chicago and to a far lesser extent, Springfield.

I’m worried about learning how to fly fish though. I’m a good-old spin-cast equipment guy myself. Getting a pair of waders and walking into a stream … that’s gonna be different.

Anyway, the transition from urban-area to small-to-midsized-city to small-city-west-of-west … will most certainly become a central part of the blog over the next few months as we get settled. Thankfully, Erin is tripping out there with me. I wouldn’t go without her, which made the phone call with the job offer easier.

Casper (and real life) … here we come!

I’ve been at work for about an hour and I’ve got way too much going on right now.

- I was walking down 5th street this morning towards home (and also yesterday at one point) and there’s the nasty formaldehyde smell (or other embalming chemical) coming from the Ellinger-Kunz & Park Funeral Home & Cremation Service building. It’s very distinct, extremely disgusting smell.

- It’s going to rain all day. I didn’t move yesterday because of threatening rain and I didn’t want to risk getting all of my stuff wet. It’s going to be in storage for awhile and I don’t feel the need to pre-soak my furniture on the ride over. So now we’re gonna try and get all of it out in increments this week I guess, whenever time permits.

- I feel like I should be more psyched up for this week but I’m not. I’m actually kinda bummed right now and I don’t feel well. I’m more interested in following the capital plan money than the prospect of an income tax hike or any other budget scenario.

- I talked to a guy about a job a couple weeks ago, and he seemed pretty cool. And I talked to another guy about a job last week (same company) and he also sounded like a good guy. So here’s to hope.

- I’m moving out of the first apartment I had with Erin. We moved in on our one-year anniversary last year. It’s sad. I’m going to miss Springfield. Learned a lot here. Last night I was walking a friend’s dog (the two of them tripped out to California for a couple days) and I was thinking, no way I pictured myself being cool enough with anyone I meet in Springfield to house-sit for them for three days. I mean, it didn’t even enter my mind that I’d meet people here that I’d be cool with. Just kinda figured I’d come, work for a year, and jet. Which is what’s happening anyway. But I’ve met some really, really cool people here too.

In February of 2007, Erin and I traveled to Springfield (my first time) to see Obama announce he was running for President.

We weren’t dating yet at the time, and invited other people to go, but it ended up being just us. Which at the time was weird, because we weren’t even really good friends like that.

Turned out to be a really cool day (literally) and what was weird was, because this was a 3 plus hour trip to and from Springfield in a single day, there was occasional silence in the truck on the way down. Wasn’t awkward silence though, which was dope. Because I mean, if I could just sit with her and it wasn’t weird to not be talking, that’s cool right? IT IS!

And we didn’t end up dating for like 3 months after that.

But when we were in Springfield, before we left town and because it was so cold, we hit up this little Mexican food spot down the street from the old Capitol called Emilios.

It’s actually kinda grimy, so if you’re into waiters in uniforms and someone standing next to your table at all times with a pitcher of water and a pepper grinder, this place is not for you.

Erin had pancakes then. She had pancakes this time, too.

The table cloths are actually just blankets put over booth tables and plastic over that. The colors are kinda obnoxious but it works well for the place. And there’s booth seats, only four booths I think, but they aren’t anchored, so don’t lean back in them.

I had a breakfast horseshoe with chorizo, eggs cooked over easy, and a cheese sauce that was more like a thick batter than a watery dressing. The coffee is good ( Erin thinks otherwise) and the service is great too.

Plus, we went there two years ago, so the place has some sentimental value to it.

Anyway, so after like two years, Erin and I are still together. I’d say it’s been a pretty good two years.

Last year on our anniversary, we were moving in to our apartment in Springfield. And barring a miracle, it appears we’ll be leaving. I don’t see any statehouse reporting jobs opening up so I’m looking elsewhere and we’ll jet from here as soon as we can.

This means, no Emilio’s next year on our anniversary. Bummer.

The job market … ugh. Pickings are slim, they say.

So at this point, I’m seriously weighing what to do with my future. Rather than jump to PR or work for the government, I think my next option after journalism is going to be landscaping.

In the distant past, I was the proud owner of Green Pete’s Lawn Care in Addison, IL. The work was steady, the clients were happy, and the services were performed to the highest of standards. Furthermore, receipts in the third year cracked the $30k mark.

Though expenses offset a good chunk of that, it was a year of expansion for me … equipment purchases and a lot of tools. Stocked a small garage, basically.

And man, I can’t even begin to tell you how proud of myself I was. I am. I mean, I started a business from scratch and it worked. At one point, I was going to walk away from journalism, wrap up my degree at Lewis with minimal work, and acquire the clients of a local company that wanted to step away from maintenance contracting (my specialty) and focus only on sprinkler installation.

Had I been able to swing that - and the money was there but the business owner stepped away from the idea - I would probably still be in Addison. Didn’t happen though.

I gave up the business for journalism, a choice I sometimes question but absolutely do not regret. But if journalism doesn’t work out? I’m not going to work for the government. The benefits are nice, yea. I mean, where else can you get a pension? I could teach college but I’d feel like a fraud if I went and fronted in front of a bunch of eager journalism students that I was this bad-ass reporter, because I wasn’t. I’m not.

It’s back to landscaping for me. There’s no ceiling when you’re in business for yourself and for someone like me, who doesn’t mind the hours or the work, it’s a great arrangement.

Erin & I have a standing agreement that, whichever one of us gets a better opportunity is where we’re going to relocate to. We’ve been throwing applications out for months - with not a lot coming back. I guess this is why they say only one person in the family can be a reporter.

So if Erin finds work in Chicago and I can’t get a journalism job there (which doesn’t seem likely - I’ve contacted almost every daily in Cook & the collar counties) then I’m going to hit up everyone I know for seed money and get back to it.

I’ll approach it just like everything else I’ve done - go hard. Forty hours a week is required and anything past that is to my benefit. Be better than everyone and you can’t get screwed out of anything.

It’s actually an attractive option. But first, I want to report … I guess I’ll have to see how it shakes out over the next month or so.

Breakfast time! The strawberry flavored frosted mini wheats are too sweet for me. So I water it down by adding frosted mini wheats of the normal variety. That’s called thinking outside the box (get it? get it? I crack myself up).

Anyway, all things considered, the last day or so was pretty decent.

Jon Lester struck out ten hated Yankees yesterday, and I have him on TWO of my fantasy baseball teams.

I woke up this morning to an email from a potential employer, and it wasn’t a rejection letter.

We set a wedding date yesterday. It was the first real binding decision we made in the wedding process so that’s good. It wasn’t the date we wanted, but if we were to be married May 15 at the target location then we wouldn’t have been able to get married outside with flowers and such. Pushing the date back to June 5 makes it so that we can have an outdoor wedding.

Also, I think we figured out that we’re just going to stick it out in Springfield until either Erin or I finds a job. And whichever one of us gets the better opportunity, that’s where we’re gonna go. Worst comes to worst (my peoples come first), I can go beg for my job back at the golf course. I liked working there and they seemed to be alright with me so if journalism doesn’t work out for a few months, I’m going to lose some weight, get a tan, and make some money. Man, if I could do those as a reporter?! How amazing would that be.

This morning, when I was getting out of bed, Erin’s like “Pete, wake me up at … mmmm … 6:45.” So I’m like, OK. No problem.

So I get up, cut some strawberries to have with my Chex, and I go back into the bedroom to ask Erin if there’s anything I can do about the strawberry stains on the bamboo cutting board (there’s not), except it’s only 6:30. So she’s like, “just let me sleep ten more minutes!”

I almost said something, but was like, nahhhh. This will be funny. So a couple more minutes later she comes out of the bedroom while I’m checking my fantasy baseball (I’m winning in one league ) and it’s only like 6:37.

So I point out, it was only 6:30 when I first woke you up and you said ten more minutes, so I was like, ehhh it would be funnier if you woke up thinking it was 7 and it actually wasn’t.

She didn’t think it was funny. I did!