Oh holy frak, Chicago

Once upon a time I was eating my salad in the lunch room at work, chatting with a few of my work-mates. One of them looked at her phone and went "Oh! Wow, there was a shooting at State and Randolph!"

"Well, that explains all the sirens," I said.

"Yeah. Huh." Things became less clear as she read the report. "So, two people were shot, and one of them was a police officer. Four shots were fired."

"Man, that must've been some serious business," someone else said, approximately.

"No kidding."

A few minutes later, after accusing each other in turn, we finally settled our wild hypotheses on the idea that obviously what must've happened was that a police officer had missed his target, shot his partner, then someone else.

Lo and behold... That's exactly what happened. He shot his partner in the chest.

Where do I line up for the "Let's not fire guns on State Street" club? Because, um... especially in front of Channel 7? Kind of a lot of people there. I figure it's lucky the only two people shot were a police officer in a bullet-proof vest and the actual mugger. Yeesh.

A Question for the Masses

Though being able to hide concert contraband in the lining of my messenger bag is nice, the novelty has kind of worn off. And the strap is about to tear loose. So, it's time to replace the poor old thing.

I've found myself particularly drawn to this bag (warning: it's Etsy). I worry, though, that it's a little loud for my financial-district doldrums. Normally this isn't an issue, but as I'm a one-bag sort of girl this is also going to have to get me through potential future things like interviews. (Also, the $10 shipping is insane, but it's coming from Australia, so I suppose for once the charge might be sort of justified.)