Front room. God. Front room. Frontroom.
I haven’t thought about that word in about twelve years. . .but it’s what my grandmother (a native Chicagoan) called the living room that had the front door in it. I had no idea that was a regionalism. . .and, honestly, I don’t know that I’d use it. I used to call the living room that had the front door in it at my old house the “living room,” and the one that didn’t the “family room.”
Carbonated drinks are sodas.
A couch is usually a couch. Maybe a sofa if it’s fancy. But I think I use “couch” more. If someone told me to sit on the davenport or the chesterfield, I’d probably take a moment of blank staring to figure out what they meant.
Creek is not crick. Milk is not melk. Though my pronunciation might be a blend of milk/melk. I don’t know. Probably is.
Mary/merry/marry might have some differences, but they’re subtle enough that I have to strain to hear them, and I suspect they don’t really exist.
There is no W in Blackhawks. Chicago is actually spelled Chicagah.
I usually say “sore-y” instead of “sah-ree”. Sah-ree being the accepted pronunciation around these parts, and “sore-y” being because of my Canadian mother. I apologize a lot, and I suspect it’s this one word that makes my accent a little off.
Also. . .breakfast/lunch/dinner. Supper is like dinner, except the person calling you to it is probably older. Dinner is not lunch.

