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.

New Year, New Life

Welcome to 2010!

I haven't thought about this new year at all. 2009 was a very consuming year for most of us, I think. The dreaming, looking to the future, the moving forward, on and up, was forgotten a bit. Each month of this year took concentration and determination, and I feel like my thoughts are still screwed into that shape of a concerned forehead and squinting eyes.

I would never deny I've certainly had an easier time than very many this year--I've celebrated life-changing joys (marriage is just wonderful, full time work is almost as good) and had almost nothing to complain about (it turns out). Still, I'm ready to relax my mind eye's furrowed brow.

For 2010, I want to build. Fuller, taller, deeper, longer. To sense more, to discern, to learn, to execute new decisions, to abundantly augment our experience and heighten our impact. After all the consternation of 2009 and the robotic focus it took to grind it out, I'm ready to apply myself in the whole of our own epoch with vitality.

This will take focus and concentration, to be sure, but of a much more fulfilling variety. Welcome 2010!

A Couplet of Office Free Verse

Casual Week at the office.

Jeans at work are marvelous, but
these people's jeans are nicer than my business-professional wardrobe. Chose between pairs with hole-in-knee, hole-in-rear, and fly-that's-broken-and-is-held-together-with-visible-safety-pin. Bingo!


The lesser of two evils.

Shuffle into the office kitchen, hopes
high.
Alas, no tasty morsels left for scavengers. Move on
to the coffee machine. Office coffee or instant coffee?
A great dilemma.

It's the window

I do believe my outlook would change if I had a window with a view. For one thing, I'd be much more prone to go home at the end of a workday. When you see the sun come up, go over, and come down as you work through your day, it certainly starts to feel like the end of the day when it is, indeed, the end of the day.

Something about flourescent lights creates such a dry feeling of status quo and permanence. Something about the out-of-doors creates...not that. You see where I'm going here?

October, nope, November 5, 2009

Gorgeous day in Chicago. Yes--cold, true, but SUN SUN SUN. I think that while in Tucson the sunset on the mountains, or monsoon thunderstorms, or the expanses of poppies in the spring across the desert floor bring us closer to our maker, here in Chicago it's the days when you squint for a second when you walk outside that bring out that unparalleled joy and gratitude. As someone who was entirely spoiled by warm weather and almost invariably clear skies, I will never take these days for granted again. I don't think many things compare to the desperate joy produced by sunshine as we roll into winter, or more so when we crawl out of it into spring.

Sage Advice

About a year and a half ago, and old man with a cane walking out of an Olive Garden after an early bird dinner gave me a piece of solid gold advice I've never forgotten. I've tucked away this nugget for all of these months, and endured a fair amount of scoffing from those who are close to me in order to remain steadfast to carry it out in good time. Tonight was the night, and it was such good advice that I wish I could go find the man and vigorously shake his hand. I'd go to the Olive Garden; I'd search Orland Park metropolitan area if it made any sense at all.

I can't do that. All I can do is pass it on, spread the joy, and encourage the experience like that man did for me. What I'm saying is, see The Bucket List. See it. This time next week you'll be calling, saying, "Where was the Olive Garden where you found that old man? How do I get there from 94?"

How I know my parents are A-Okay

My parents are in the first two years of an empty nest. Since all of us girls are so far away, I worry about them sometimes. I've stopped worrying.

Saturday was my first bridal shower. It was all family, hosted by my dear aunts on my mom's side. It was so touching and fantastic, and there were many moments that made me well up a bit. My mom wasn't there of course, and she was the only missing part.

So she calls on Sunday, and I'm ready to spill about the great family time and to thank her for the tear-jerking toast she had Deborah read. Instead she says, "Okay, well, I just wanted to call and say we're at the Folk Music Fest downtown, and we're listening to a guy sing a song called Guacamole! Ha ha! He's all 'Ay yay yay Gua-ca-mol-ay!' Ha ha! We thought you would like that. Okay bye!"

I did like that, by the way. :)

Video Game Mode

It's been a long time since I spent a Saturday morning watching someone play video games. Probably, mm, three years. In the thick of college. Three years ago though, this was a very familiar situation, so I know how to adapt. This time I have light pouring in the windows, which is a sharp contrast to the dimly lit dorm room or basement, and a full kitchen at my disposal, so I'm not trapped eating last night's 2 AM candy for breakfast (as delicious as that was).

Brian doesn't play video games that much, but it was his birthday this week, and FIFA 2009 was on the list. His video game mode is intriguing; he plays with a concentration unparalleled in his every day activities. In conversation-mid-play, he tilts his head, lifts his chin, turns his shoulders toward you but can keep his eyes trained on the screen, controlling 11 different characters at one time in the 3 square feet of sporting competition. He may nod, laugh, respond to you otherwise, but there is an intangible stream from the TV funneling through his eyes, soaking his brain, draining through his neck and into his arms, translating into nothing but his flying thumbs. And the hat-grabbing after an unbelievable play.

This may sound so very mundane that you quit reading; I apologize. Video games are ultimately boring to me as well. I'm just happy to be at a point in my life where though I'm watching video games on a Saturday morning, I have the freedom to make myself some coffee with cinnamon sugar toast and muse about it. My video game mode is really quite relaxing.

Sweet Summertime

Almost. I'll take springtime though. Today was just gorgeous.
Today brought Arizona to the Sweet Sixteen. Bethany, Brian, and I sported our AZ hoodies for the occasion, and enjoyed perfectly grilled hamburgers, pineapple, strawberries, salad, and roasted potatoes in them. I would've had a great visual to illustrate, with Brian standing over the tiny tiny grill, PBR in hand, but the camera was upstairs, so...so far away.
Kicking off summer was great though, and delicious. Cannot wait for the real thing.

Life Lessons and Attitudes on a Friday

This morning I am in a great mood. That is the attitude part of the post.

I learned a lesson yesterday morning. It had to do with selfishness and pettiness, or, the purging of these close aquaintances of mine. Read on:

This weekend I looked at plane tickets to go to Tucson for my June bridal shower (to quote Anna, "Who's it for?"/ "Anna. It's mine! My bridal shower! I'm getting married!"). I found a great price on a great flight, cleared it with the bosses, and...didn't act on it for three days. Tuesday night I looked, and the hiked price gleamed at me with squinty eyes, har-har-harring...
I was insta-grump, total victim, whiiining and b*tching. My poor fiance and sister tried to help and be logical, but Sarawitch would have NONE OF THAT!
Thursday morning rolls around and dearheart Alli forwards me Southwest's Huge Summer Sale ad, I look, my heart, it Leaps, and behold, my favorite flight is the rock-bottom price of $99, my freshman year regular fare. I teared up a bit.
I mean really, lesson learned. It's a flight, not a roof over my head or food for the week. It's faith that what happens is supposed to, and is a gift. In no way did I lift this insignificant issue up in prayer, or blame myself and concentrate on being smarter next time. I feel like God said, "There. NOW will you trust me?"

So, enough whining. More praying. More consideration. More grace and less grump.

Because Weather Talk is so stimulating

Today Chicago is windy and sunny and about 40 degrees, and sloppy. I wished this. I told everyone at work that I hoped I'd have to muck through gigantic puddles all weekend. It makes me almost as happy as the 50 degree weekend while I was gone for Christmas weekend, which melted about three feet of snow to nothing. Glorious.

I've realized something about myself though, on this introspective Saturday morning, and I'm catalog-ing (sp? yikes.) it under "Growing Up and Changing--It's for Reals:"

I do hate the winter, but I'm doing it this year. Not only doing winter, but walking in it everyday, bundling up against it as my routine. Carrying tissues to take the ice chunks out of my eyelashes when I get to my building. Tucking khakis into black snow boots and wearing hats and scarves with clashing prints.
I credit this to being here 5 winters, yes, and coming around, but I think it fits more into Growing Up and Changing. Because blogging is a perfect forum for airing personal revelations, I can state that this 40 degree morning in Chicago is showing me that I'm more ready for this adulthood than I thought. Even if it means I end up the kind of adult that tucks khakis into snow boots.
This makes me very excited for marriage :)