It's the Hap-Happiest Seeeeeason of All

Happy Fall! It would have felt more appropriate if I didn't know it's going to be 78 degrees today. Not complaining, just saying. It still counts as fall because it feels inappropriate to wear shorts and mix margaritas. Our apartment's steam heat came on this week on one of the actually cold days, each register hissing, bubbling, and screech-singing inharmoniously with the rest and reminding me of the reason people can't sleep when they stay over at our place in the winter. I like it because it's like having little friends in each room.

My seasonal baking urges are setting in. This is bad news, as I've stopped running and tend to bake with half the bag of chocolate chips, eat the other half, bake with half, eat the other half... I also have no holiday parties on the horizon where it would be appropriate to roll out six to seven different confections at a time. Even one goodie a week is just a poor idea, considering there are two mouths to eat them and I never halve recipes.
And yes, I said holiday parties. HOLIDAY PARTIES! An Arizona girl needs a reason to love the fall like everyone else around here does. I've fast-forwarded to dreaming of the Saturday when Brian lets me put up the Christmas tree in our lonely living room corner (week of Thanksgiving...week of Thanksgiving). He may have caught me listening to Christmas music in the shower last week. I currently have "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" by Amy Grant stuck in my head, and it's fantastic.

Brian is in Vegas with friends this weekend. Get home from work, put on pajamas, eat pretzels, chocolate chips, and cantaloupe for dinner, watch 30 Rock and Glee on Hulu, then finish off the night with some Britney Spears music videos before climbing into bed at 9:09.

I believe I spent my Friday night like any single girl does.

It's been worse, though. I could have been watching Sex in the City all night, then stayed up late putting together crazy tops and pants and adding belts and ridiculous shoes to outfits that were headed to the thrift store for good reason, OR I could have done an America's Next Top Model marathon and promptly dyed my hair an unflattering burgundy and cut some uneven bangs.

I think the only reason I miss college is because behavior like the above was excusable. The answer is no, you cannot wear three different colors of eyeliner to add dimension and intrigue; give it half an hour and you'll be wearing that green, blue, and purple as complementary hues for the already dark circles under your eyes.
As a side note, the other day while I was performing my afternoon tradition of wiping the cheap eye makeup off of the rest of my face (HOW does it TRAVEL??) I noticed that under the dark shadows cast by plebeians' mascara, my SKIN was the same color as the slate gray. I noticed again the next day as I marveled that the raccoon eyes had managed to stay on in the shower. Or just...my face managed to stay on in the shower. Raccoon eyes=my real eyes.

Anyways. Yikes, the single girl's blog is incredibly trivial. Whatever, the Nyquil's kicking in and in no way can I smell my margarita-scented candles, so it's a waste to sit up and type next to them. Bedtime. And now I'm going to pretend I'm going jogging when I wake up. Isn't this fun!

Downtown smells like brownies this morning. It's DElicious. It's not that uncommon, but I've never figured out where it comes from. I've experienced this most times of all the days of the week at some point. I wish I worked wherever that is. I mean really, it's strong enough that I picture two culinary geniuses working in the dark recesses of the empty old postal building under one lightbulb mixing giant vats of batter with a six-foot wooden spoon and baking in huge, technologically-advanced kilns every time I smell it. GIANT vats.



Speaking of brownies, made brownies last night. I pulled out my family's well-worn tradition of frenzied baking at 11 pm when you said you'd bring snacks to an event and made cream cheese brownies. Then I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I'm sleepy now and the hoodie I brought for our weekend trip is covered in butter and cocoa powder, but it's worth it to know my crazy mom would have done the same thing.



Quiet day at the office. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the only one in my corner, which is fabulous. I managed to get over my feeling that since it's Friday and I came into work today, someone owes me donuts (a common sentiment of mine recently. Also applies to Mondays and Wednesdays). I am, however, still hoping that the firm's monthly birthday celebration is the third Friday of the month in order to swoop in moments after the last staffer leaves the breakroom and devour the leftovers [leftovers in the past have included cake, cupcakes, cookies, cookie ice cream sandwiches (seriously), etc]. I think they're on to me though, and I've somehow missed the last few months despite being very observant around 3 pm. I really miss Alli for millions of reasons, but the one pertaining to this scenario is the ease of a work email simply titled "CAKE IN KITCHEN RUN." to tip me off.



Here's to the weekend, the possibility of free cake this afternoon, and the fact that not even my entire small group will be able to consume all of my recently-prepared baked goods in one weekend. Cheers!

Neglected to rinse the spearmint tea out my travel mug before filling it with dark roast this morning. Interesting.

I forgot my ipod today, which is a bummer because it's Friday, which is happy, and because Fridays (especially summer ones) are eerie around the office. When it hits 2:30 and you can't hear a human on the whole floor, it's nice to have Kelly Clarkson or Ira Glass to hang out with. Especially when all of the sudden you do hear a human on the floor and automatically assume it's a file burglar who will be forced to kill you when he sees you've wrecked his dastardly plan. It's also a bummer because I just made a playlist called "Rockin' Jams" (I'm awesome) while I was sort of sleeping last night, and I was pretty excited to find out what was on it this morning. (If you're my husband, don't feel bad--it really wasn't worth turning the car around.)

I spent the commute looking at the materialism around me. The different levels and the pressure to conform is something that I'll never be immune to on the train or walking the sidewalks of the loop. The fancy bags and shoes I sit next to seem to leer at my cool cross-trainers and disintegrating clearance rack tote from five years ago. Thing is, if I had the money I wouldn't buy her bag anyway. I'd put it in my savings account. I could blame it on the judging eyes behind those giant sunglasses, but in the end I know it starts with me--I need to stop caring about what she thinks of me. I'm sure she doesn't care that I look like a nerd. It makes her look better anyway.

Want what you have. This also means not being jealous of the nurses I see who get to wear scrubs/pajamas to work.

Happy sunny Friday! The last one before The Last One...when Labor Day closes the door on this summer deal and I man-up, throw on a hoodie with a team, start making football snacks, find a bonfire to stand around, and settle into the routine of the next two seasons.

Another Summer Friday In Chicago

Train was pretty empty today. I'm sure there are many people still on vacation from the 4th, but as I walked into work at 7 am on the dot to an overpowering silence, I realized, oh right. They all have 8 am tee times.


This is confirmed by the fact that it's 7:51 and I'm still the only one on my side of the building.


In this survival of the fittest environment, I'm clearly not the fittest. I continue my struggle to survive while the fittest warm up before they hit the first hole. It's fine. To aid me in my fight for survival, here's a quick review of the pictures in my cube that get me through a day:

--My absolute favorite candid wedding photo. Every time I see it I remember that I'm capable of feeling supremely happy and fulfilled.

--Three work besties in a jumping shot on the gorgeous Lake Michigan beach out front of the Catlett cottage in Ludington. Friends Forever+Ludington summer=bliss.

--Mom sitting in a forest of aspens. Arizona is so beautiful, and so is my mom. Her look, as always, says, "Life is bigger than what you're worried about."

--Reflection of me, mom, and dad in the Bean. Dad meets Chicago for the first time and LIKES it. That made my year.

--Brian and I standing around in the pavilion at Trinity after my graduation. The beginning of a lifetime of accomplishments for us.

--Family posed in front of the Field Museum, looking like tourists. After years of battling my family's nerdiness, I embrace it wholeheartedly.

--Bethany and I frolicking in front of the Buckingham Fountain. Frolicking, arms in air.

Life is bigger than what I'm worried about.

Happy June

Here it is! June=summer=cram in all the things you've been dreaming will make Chicago worth it in next two months. Now that we're on the other side of (the most gorgeous and unbeatable) Memorial Day Weekend (ever), it's go time. This creates quite a sense of urgency. Constantly checking in on the following:

• How much sunlight have I absorbed today?
• When was the last time I ate ice cream while walking outside?
• What festivals are going on this weekend, and I can attend multiple on the same day?
• When will I (not can I) get to the farmer's market this week?
• How many frozen fruity drinks have I blended this week? If they have not been consumed on a deck or porch, -.5. The average should be around 3 per week.

And, begin.

Just a few thoughts on Memorial Day:

-One of my favorite holidays. Beginning of summer, three day weekend. Three day weekends change my perspective on my entire life, and that's true.
-This one was fabulous. The weekend, anyway--the actual day I was in traffic on the way back to Chicago. Anyway, all the Michiganders I talked to said it was the most beautiful Memorial Day weekend they could remember.
-I discovered they make 100 SPF sunscreen. Pretty amazing, although I stuck with 55, because a little bit of sun is just plain better looking.
-Two ice cream stops in one day makes sense once in a while, especially if one is immediately following breakfast.

Starting the day with some JT

(Obviously).
(That's Justin Timberlake, G-ma :). See that combo smiley face/parenthesis? Efficiency.


Just a quick review of all the living things under my care:

-Brian is doing fine. Well-fed and healthy.

-Bowser is so thirsty right now I think I heard him rasping "...water...water" this morning as soon as my alarm woke both of us up. No time. I'll getcha tonight, buddy. You always survive somehow.

-Birthday Cactus is thriving. I've temporarily named him Manolito, but I'm on the lookout for an even better name to upgrade. I don't want to waste this one, as I'll not get a chance to name one of my own children anything with Hispanic origins.

-Boss' Office Plant is dying a slow, brown and yellow death. His predecessor perished similarly. I blame the fluorescent lighting and this stale, recycled air for the majority of his suffering. I'm certain it has nothing to do with my black thumb--if my turtle can handle it, so you can you, dude.


Glad we got that out of the way.

I just listened to a Radiolab podcast about the incredible (non-) limits of the human body and mind. I've been thinking about this recently anyway, admiring all the runners in our park and being shamed by their stamina even though some of them have to weigh twice as much as me. It's time to start pushing my limits. By running? Mmm...let's not get carried away. But the whole concept fits into my 2010 resolutions so well that I'm determined to find some limits to push. My tiny world-in-a-box is getting a little ridiculous (seriously, you're "tired" again?). Expanded horizons, here I come. One energized, productive workday, one new cookie recipe, one brisk walk to a new destination at a time.

Stuff

What would you like for your birthday?

Why is this such a hard question for us? With birthdays within five days of each other, Brian and I have been pondering this question individually and jointly for weeks. Mostly for the benefit of our families, who are eager to shower us with their generosity and have been waiting for the email to inform them how to shop. What would we like for our birthdays?

Stuff has never been a huge part of my life. We didn't have a lot of new stuff growing up, and making my own money has mostly led me to spend it with Scrooge-like practically with the biggest sales and most inexpensive solutions to needs and desires. While I never had much new stuff, I always liked stuff, and a simple walk through Target makes it clear that I'm their target market. Purses, scarves, bathing suits, jewelry. Stationary, stickers, journals. Music, dvds, books. Pillows, tableware, vases, mirrors. Candy, pretzels, soda. Sigh. All this stuff to enjoy life more.

Since getting married and getting tons of new stuff, I've been working to build a life and enjoy the life we've built more. It seemed like the perfect start, with shiny new knives and fluffly towels, crisp sheets, an HD TV. This great new stuff to start a new life. But seven months later, what do we want for our birthdays? Please, not stuff.

We stew and ponder the question. What can we use? What do we need? Okay, well then, what do we want? While there are a few things I could think of that might be fun (and many more waiting for me on endcaps at Target), our answer is an anticlimatic...money for our bills? I guess I'll need an eye exam soon? How about a grocery store gift card?

What we want, and what will mean the most, is to live simply. To live on the least possible. And after every apartment cleaning, we purge the unneeded stuff, every time. The longer we're in this place, the less we wish we owned. It feels like a purer form of living, and intentional.

While I will need new sneakers soon, necessitating a trip through the Target shoe aisles (danger), and sometimes it's nice to have something shiny and new, I'm going to ride this trend as long as possible. It's making room for creativity and thought and much refection (of course). Valuing the stuff we have (as I'm certainly not giving up those gorgeous knives). Being excited by having a little extra room in the drawers.

Mom and Dad, you can get us eye exams. :)

Another sunny Friday morning. Praise God! I am getting very used to my Friday mornings in the boss' chair soaking up rays before I'm on the clock. *Leisurely, a sip of coffee* Ahhhh.

(Here I wrote about five different entries saturated in my usual nostalgic tone. I think I'll try again tomorrow morning.)

Choppy thoughts on the coming of summer. Unedited, sorry.

March 4th has brought hope to Chicagoland. We're all already dreaming of a sunny and warm summer, laying out on our crowded faux-beaches and elbowing our way through clusters of yuppies to get a seat at one of the popular patios and drain pitchers of mojitos. In a place that doesn't often seem to notice nature or enjoy it at all, it's surprising to me how many of us have simultaneously cliche and very genuine things to say about the gorgeousness of the sunshine today.

I realize this is all I talk about. That's how important it is, really.

We had such an easy winter. So far, as it's bound to cross us a few more times, but it has been easy--even I admit that. And such an early promise that it might turn around, blossom to spring, is the ultimate of refreshing. And, we all feel owed for last summer's cold and drear. These things have really brought a crescendo of optimism around here. It has also reminded me that even in a world of status and money and business, people still need sunshine, which is free (even if it is accompanied by front row Cubs tickets and followed with a five star meal and $20 martinis afterwards).

Waiting on the train platform this morning reminded me of waiting for my carpool in my middle school days, and how every morning in Tucson is quiet and sometimes cool and almost always bright and sunny and beautiful. Even if it's not, rain is a blessing. Sitting 46 floors up in the heart of the loop, I still wonder (as I did as a freshman in college), what on earth possessed the explorers to settle in wintry swamps which were noted to smell like bad onions and call it Checagou.

I vowed to consume many a margarita, grill whenever possible, and live it the heck UP around here in the summer of 2009. All the cloudy days and sweater-wearing of last summer put a damper on those hopes and dreams, but not this year. I've renewed my resolution. That crowded beach has my name on it. Mix up my pitcher, I'm headed to a patio.