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.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
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:
-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.
- 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.
Friday, April 16, 2010
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.
(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.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
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. :)
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. :)
Friday, March 12, 2010
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.)
(Here I wrote about five different entries saturated in my usual nostalgic tone. I think I'll try again tomorrow morning.)
Thursday, March 4, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
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!
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!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)