Friday, August 19, 2005

Things I've been asked to bring from Chicago

Occasionally, my friends in other parts of the country (and world) ask me to bring them souvenirs from sweet home Chicago.
Do they want a Cubs jersey? NO!
Do they want a picture of the Chicago skyline? NO!
Do they want Oprah Winfrey's autograph? NO!

Here's what they want:

- -To Vienna: teriyaki beef jerky and Dr. Pepper soda
- -To London: strawberry Twizzlers, Mike and Ike candy (didn't know there were three flavors, only brought two...failed my mission) and ibuprofen (okay, not technically a Chicago item, but apparently quite pricey in the UK). They didn't ask for, but I added a bag of Tootsie Rolls because they (and all Ferrara Pan items) are SO Chicago!
- -To Washington, DC: Garrett's caramel/cheese popcorn mix and six double White Castle burgers (2 each of jalapeno cheese, french onion cheese and bacon cheese) plus one order of onion rings ('cause they rock!)

So far, no problems with US Customs. But maybe it's the Food and Drug Administration I should worry about?
Anyway, I'm always happy to spread Windy City joy!

Thursday, August 18, 2005

No worries!

72 days and counting! Less than three months until I'm back Down Under!!! What do you mean "back?" Well, yes, I've been to Australia before. Three times, actually. Believe it or not, I took this picture!!

I've been very lucky to be able to be totally hedonistic on my birthday these last five years. My friends aren't as lucky, so I've been flying solo (insert joke here). It's okay, though, because I've managed to meet a TON of fun people on my trips. But why be away from home on my birthday??

(Cue the violins)...As the youngest in a very large family, we didn't have too many birthday parties when I was growing up. I do remember one real party (with cake and ice cream, plus friends and games and prizes). I think I was 8 or 9 years old. Usually, my birthday was pretty much like any other day except we had cake after dinner and I got a gift from my parents. (Oh, and I had to bring cupcakes or candy or whatever to share with my classmates.)

At some point I decided that I would stop waiting for someone else to make my birthday special. I would do it myself. So far, I've been to Australia 3 times, Hawaii once and Buenas Aires once. If you might have guessed, there's a pattern here.


Although years ago I had promised myself not to go to the same place twice, Australia is just too good! (Those of you that have been there know what I mean). But I AM varying things a bit this year as I've decided to hit Perth along with favorites, Port Douglas (near the Great Barrier Reef) and Sydney (landing point in Oz).

Has anyone been to Perth? I've been reading up on it and Perth sounds great with beaches, great restaurants and it's not too far from the Margaret River area (fabulous vineyards)!

Is it too early to stock up on sunscreen?



Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Does this happen to other women??

I just returned from a late lunch (actually just a break to see daylight and let my eyes recover from computer strain). Ran across the street to get a side salad and find a place to sit in the sun. There's a great little courtyard that's about a dozen steps up from the sidewalk, so I decided to sit there.

My skirt, however, decided to entertain the tourists waiting for the bus on the corner and flew up on (almost) all sides. No screaming (I just swear), I grabbed as much as I could and sat down faster than the last competitor in musical chairs!

After tucking as much of my skirt under me as possible, I ate my salad and then "tested the waters" of getting up. Nope, the wind was coming from everywhere. I was trapped!

I mulled over my options: 1) spend the night here and hope the wind dies down, 2) find the largest tourist I can and walk VERY CLOSE behind him to my building, 3) call my boss and ask him to bring me his belt.

Wait a minute! A belt? I have a belt on this skirt. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I created the newest fashion statement by tying my belt at the top of my thighs (and saying a silent prayer that it held). I'm calling it "The Hefty Bag."

Oh, and I think I've decided to sew ball bearings into the hem of this skirt.

The long and winding road

Yesterday was "walk home day" for me. Once a week, I walk home from work, a distance of 5 or 6 miles. This is my (admittedly) piss poor attempt to erase the effects of a summer full of Wrigley Field's beer and hotdogs.

I started this "workout" a few months ago and my first WHD took me over 2 1/2 hours! I decided to take the path along the lakefront, very scenic, but not very direct (as my boss pointed out on a map recently). ooops!

The WHD has, however, given me an opportunity to drain the office bullshit and frustration from my mind and arrive home calm and thoughtful (not to mention sweaty and smelly).

Interesting notes from recent WHDs:
- so THAT's where the Diversey driving range is!
- YES, people do actually buy little shoes for their dogs (thought that only happened on the East and West coasts). Too funny!
- picnicking on the lakefront is not limited to the grassy areas as I came across an older couple struggling to open a bottle of wine on the cement "beach" north of Oak Street along the outer drive. I trimmed some days off purgatory by letting them use the bottle opener on my keychain.
- why on earth would the Chicago German community authorize a statue for German philosopher Goethe that looks like a Roman eagle trainer? what's that about?? (It's at Diversey and Sheridan.)

But I digress...

As I said, my first WHD took more than 2 1/2 hours. Since then, I've been trying to cut my time without cutting the distance. And don't say, "Take up running!" Forget it! I don't run unless somebody's chasing me...and they're armed!

According to my pedometer, I walked 14,747 steps yesterday (including during my workday). Sounds pretty impressive, doesn't it? A person of 125-130 pounds needs 10,000 steps to work off 300 calories, so I probably lost oh, maybe half a Big Mac! Big effin deal!

Lately, I've noticed that my route changes from week to week and the diversions usually take place in the parks north of North Avenue. On my first WHD, I was distracted by a softball game on a hidden-away diamond. Last week, I got sidetracked onto a shady little path that left me two blocks off-course.

The paths, cute and curvy as they are, are a delightful way to spend an afternoon or evening, but not very helpful to me. While the Chicago Park District paths might lead you past a gaggle of grazing geese (like the alliteration?) or through beautifully landscaped gardens, they are someone else's idea of where to go.

But which path should I take to get where I'm going? I guess the most direct way to get where you need to be is to find your own way, make your own path.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Imperatives

"Must Love..." read the theatre ticket stub that I found in the bottom of my purse recently. In the Diane Lane/John Cusack movie, the imperative was of the canine variety, but it gave me reason to ponder my own social situation.

In the search for a partner, I find my list of absolutes has become more simplified...or has it? Could it be because the pool of appropriate candidates is considerably smaller as I tiptoe toward the dreaded "middle age"?? Is it because I've softened in my needs and wants or, more likely, I've gotten tired of looking for Mr. Perfect and will shrug my shoulders and accept Mr. Pretty Good? (Geez, I'd hate to think that!)

What are my prerequisites for Mr. Perfect?? (let's keep a good thought that he's out there)

Okay, must.....

  • be single. (just wasted four hours on Saturday talking to a toad who is not only MARRIED, but expecting his first child!!)
  • not smoke. If I want to smell like an ashtry, I'll hang out in bars (at least until the smoking ban passes!)
  • love to travel. I believe there is no better way to know yourself and accept others than to meet new friends on their own soil. The experience is enriched exponentially when the new friends speak a new language!
  • love baseball. There is, of course, a stipulation for this: can NOT be a fan of either the White Sox (hate-filled, crude, drunk, disrespectful, inbred, and completely void of sports knowledge) or the St. Louis Cardinals (my Cubs loyalty would not allow this).
  • be in reasonably good physical condition (she said as she looked down at cellulite-dimpled thighs and a no-longer-flat stomach.)
  • be able to straddle that fine line between self-confident and cocky. Is there anything LESS attractive than a grown man with no confidence?
  • have a slightly bent sense of humor. Like a fine red wine, dry is good.
  • be financially stable. Blockbuster and a pizza is a fine date...when you're 17.
  • love his family, even if that family is only a few friends and a dog. Some blood relationships are not ones we'd choose and I won't blame a guy if his brother is a drug-addicted habitual liar.

I used to think that blond and blue-eyed were attributes on my "must-have" list, but since my would-be suitors have aged, blond men have gone gray (or bald), so this shallow ideal has been eliminated. (Of course, if my doctor..he of the cornflower blue eyes and sandy blond hair....invited me on a date, I'd have to reconsider. ;-))

Am I asking for too much?

Who ARE these guys?!?!

Having lost eight games in a row, I figured my boys (the Cubs) couldn't beat my grandma's bridge team! But then, low and behold, the boys in blue show up and take three of four from the rat bastard Cardinals!
Prior got the win and Dempster the save on Sunday, but for me, the highlight was seeing the big guy (Kerry Wood) come in and strike out 4 in two innings of relief. A group of guys behind us started chanting, "We got Wood!" I think Kerry was pretty excited to be able to help his team beat St. Louis.
He's one guy who understands the importance of this rivalry.
Now it's on to Houston...