"After three years in Chicago, I decided to call it a career." - Ted Lindsay

One of the challenging parts of living in a major metropolis like Chicago is finding an apartment where you can a.) stand to live b.) afford the rent c.) not want to murder your neighbors. Since Mr. Valentine and I lived in sin for years before going legit, we've navigated these waters for some time with varying degrees of success.

Our first place was a studio that was roughly the size of a prison cell and half as charming. But it was clean and cheap and most importantly got us out of our mom's basements.

The next place was better, in the sense that our bed wasn't in the living room. It was small & old, but was an awesome location that allowed dogs, which was important since we had illegally adopted Beans already.

A lot had changed by the time we were ready to move out. Mr. Valentine was a recent grad with a real job! I had stopped tending bar and started working a 9-5 job and we were engaged. By this time Ikea/hand me down furniture no longer had a strangle hold on my decorating sensibilities, so things we're starting to look more like us and less like a gang of Scandinavians fought a roving band of frat boys in a knife fight for the right to decorate.

This time around we decided we needed a sweet city pad which introduced for the first time to the Faustian bargain of city living: apartment vs. neighborhood. Unless you've had the good fortune to be born a brainless, talentless trust fund idiot like the Kardashian/Hilton/Hills losers, you will be forced to decide weather you want a lesser apartment in a cool neighborhood or a nicer apartment in a less desirable 'hood. We went with the latter.

Our third apartment was in an old warehouse building that had been converted to loft condos and it was oh so cool. Vaulted concrete ceilings, exposed pipes, stainless steel, floor to ceiling windows. It was very urban chic and much cooler than we are. It was also located smack dab in between a Salvation Army boarding house, a crack re-hab facility and a homeless shelter. But we were 5 floors up, had a doorman and a private garage, which was a good compromise. We lived there happily through 2 years, another impulse dog adoption and our wedding. We realized soon after the wedding that we'd outgrown the condo due in large part to the insane generosity of our friends and family and my overzealous use of the registry scanner at Pottery Barn.

We started looking to move with the following criteria: 2 beds, 2 baths, dishwasher, in unit laundry, central heat & air, covered garage & some sort of outdoor space. Anyone who's lived in Chicago will tell you that those specs don't come cheap unless you are looking to live in an "up and coming" area. Miraculously we found a place with all our amenities, within budget and moved. It also is conveniently close to a liquor store, pawn shop and blue light cameras. But I don't mind, because I've got my handsome husband, my health, a gorgeous Christmas tree with presents overflowing, a full wine cabinet and a dog that looks like he came from Michael Vick's house. Which helps.