Saturday, December 30, 2006
Sunday, December 03, 2006
And finally...the photos
I know you thought I'd return from my trip to Australia and completely forget to show you where I've been. Okay, I've been kinda busy, but I haven't forgotten you.
First, the animals....
First, the animals....
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
G'day Australia
SYDNEY-- I awoke today with a heaviness in my chest, but I wasn't surprised. It's come to be a familiar feeling now. It happens every year about this time.
It's called leaving.
Last night I stopped by for a wonderful dinner and drinks in the 36th floor restaurant called Altitude. As I looked out on the Sydney Harbor Bridge, the melancholy crept in. I didn't bother to push it off. That has never worked for me. I know that in time, probably by the weekend, the weight will lift on its own.
I'll go now and say goodbye to the Opera House and the Bridge and thank them for making me smile. I'll look down on the street and remember to Look Right or Left so as not to become a permanent part of the Sydney pavement. I'll get a flat white with my breakfast and savor the smoothness that Starbucks did not invent.
I've enjoyed a fortunate business life that has allowed me to come to Australia an amazing FIVE times. With the changes in my corporate atmosphere, I can't really say when I'll be back.
But I will.
It's called leaving.
Last night I stopped by for a wonderful dinner and drinks in the 36th floor restaurant called Altitude. As I looked out on the Sydney Harbor Bridge, the melancholy crept in. I didn't bother to push it off. That has never worked for me. I know that in time, probably by the weekend, the weight will lift on its own.
I'll go now and say goodbye to the Opera House and the Bridge and thank them for making me smile. I'll look down on the street and remember to Look Right or Left so as not to become a permanent part of the Sydney pavement. I'll get a flat white with my breakfast and savor the smoothness that Starbucks did not invent.
I've enjoyed a fortunate business life that has allowed me to come to Australia an amazing FIVE times. With the changes in my corporate atmosphere, I can't really say when I'll be back.
But I will.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Mea culpa
SYDNEY -- I was just re-reading one of my posts and decided that my post about the speed with which I met a man in Establishment could have been taken wrong. It could have been construed as bragging.
Hopefully, everyone that knows me (and some of you who don't) will realize that I was amazed, no, try SHOCKED at meeting David so quickly. Or any guy, for that matter! That's not my kind of luck.
Oh, and by the way, I was supposed to meet David today, but I didn't answer my cell phone. The first time was by accident (really didn't hear it on the bus to Bondi Beach). The second time was on purpose.
Who asks out a woman he's only known a few seconds? !?! Weirdos, that's who. If he was a cute weirdo, I might have given him a chance. Oh well!!
Hopefully, everyone that knows me (and some of you who don't) will realize that I was amazed, no, try SHOCKED at meeting David so quickly. Or any guy, for that matter! That's not my kind of luck.
Oh, and by the way, I was supposed to meet David today, but I didn't answer my cell phone. The first time was by accident (really didn't hear it on the bus to Bondi Beach). The second time was on purpose.
Who asks out a woman he's only known a few seconds? !?! Weirdos, that's who. If he was a cute weirdo, I might have given him a chance. Oh well!!
Gotta love Australia because...
SYDNEY - - I was going to title this post "you know you're in Australia when..." but it's more than just identifying features of the country. It's just stuff that's downright fabulous (sometimes in a bent kinda way, but whatever!)
- To prevent from getting flattened by a bus or taxi, there are Look Right> and
- In an effort to conserve water, you have a choice of full or half-flush, depending on the activity within.
- The Aussies (at least near Sydney) have a store that sells alcohol that's called The Lick Her Shop. Gotta love it!
- In Port Douglas, the garbage trucks are handled by just one man - the driver. That's because the truck is equipped with a giant mechanical arm that picks up the cans, empties them upside-down into the top of the truck and replaces them on the street. Fabulous!
- To keep the little ones happy, Melbourne has a postal drop box for "the big guy." No, I don't mean God. I mean Santa Claus. The box reads "Santa's mail only."
Thursday, November 16, 2006
The MJ
SYDNEY - - I decided it wasn't Melbourne, it was me. I was so bummed about the crappy weather that I almost let it keep me from having a great time.
But I bounced back and now I'm in Sydney and it's great. But one more thing about Melbourne...
The MJ drink (as created by the aforementioned Writer and bartender Clare):
Maker's Mark bourbon
Grand Marnier
a touch of fresh lime juice
tonic water
two mint leaves, muddled a bit
a bit of brown sugar (added last and stirred in)
served in a rocks glass that's rimmed in a mixture of lime zest and white sugar.
I don't know if it won the drink contest at Manchester Lane and if so, whether they'll add it to the drink list, but if you're ever in Melbourne...
But I bounced back and now I'm in Sydney and it's great. But one more thing about Melbourne...
The MJ drink (as created by the aforementioned Writer and bartender Clare):
Maker's Mark bourbon
Grand Marnier
a touch of fresh lime juice
tonic water
two mint leaves, muddled a bit
a bit of brown sugar (added last and stirred in)
served in a rocks glass that's rimmed in a mixture of lime zest and white sugar.
I don't know if it won the drink contest at Manchester Lane and if so, whether they'll add it to the drink list, but if you're ever in Melbourne...
Wanted: one wingman
SYDNEY - -Ladies, what's the fastest you've ever been asked out on a date? I mean, gone from just meeting a guy to him asking for your phone number with the stated intention of asking you out on a date?
How's less than five minutes??
Yep, I think I've found my favorite bar in Sydney. It's called The Establishment and it's loaded with the suit-and-tie crowd (personally, my favorite flavor). Anyway, I hadn't even made it to the bar before David approached me and told me that he thought I was beautiful and HAD to take me out and could he have my number??
Apparently, David was leaving soon, but said we'd have lunch on Monday. (I doubt it 'cause I plan to be on the beach at Manly, but anyway.)
I bought a drink and it ended up being the only one I would pay for that night. Met up with some youngsters who invited me to join them on one of the northern beaches on Saturday (they'd arrange for my transportation). Um, well maybe.
While I'm being chatted-up by the kids, some guys across the bar are blowing me kisses!!! No shit!
Where's Firecracker when I need her?!?!
How's less than five minutes??
Yep, I think I've found my favorite bar in Sydney. It's called The Establishment and it's loaded with the suit-and-tie crowd (personally, my favorite flavor). Anyway, I hadn't even made it to the bar before David approached me and told me that he thought I was beautiful and HAD to take me out and could he have my number??
Apparently, David was leaving soon, but said we'd have lunch on Monday. (I doubt it 'cause I plan to be on the beach at Manly, but anyway.)
I bought a drink and it ended up being the only one I would pay for that night. Met up with some youngsters who invited me to join them on one of the northern beaches on Saturday (they'd arrange for my transportation). Um, well maybe.
While I'm being chatted-up by the kids, some guys across the bar are blowing me kisses!!! No shit!
Where's Firecracker when I need her?!?!
Monday, November 13, 2006
Weather to post by
MELBOURNE - - For those of you who are wondering how I'm finding time to post when I should be on vacation, don't worry. My posts will be less frequent starting tomorrow when I go to Sydney.
Melbourne was quite a shock after the heat of Port Douglas since it is COLD HERE!!! Okay, the Chicagoans are shaking their heads, I know. So it's not COLD, but it's about mid-50s with a pretty impressive wind. After 85 and hot sun, you can imagine my disappointment with this weather.
The cold weather has driven me inside, for shopping, dining, drinking and, of course, internet surfing. Hence the posts.
Melbourne was quite a shock after the heat of Port Douglas since it is COLD HERE!!! Okay, the Chicagoans are shaking their heads, I know. So it's not COLD, but it's about mid-50s with a pretty impressive wind. After 85 and hot sun, you can imagine my disappointment with this weather.
The cold weather has driven me inside, for shopping, dining, drinking and, of course, internet surfing. Hence the posts.
The Waiters' Restaurant
MELBOURNE - -It's a place where a request for wine is answered with a question, "what color?"
Fancy it's not.
The menu is on the wall - - sans prices. There are 30 entrees available (mostly pasta) plus five appetizers and about half a dozen dessert choices. The ambiance is closer to my mother's basement with its fake-wood paneling, so I'm not worried about it being expensive. This is not your typical Melbourne eatery.
The waiter (yes, only ONE) is a 60-ish man who moved very quickly and adeptly around and between the 16 tables (15 of which were filled by the time I left), taking orders over the top of his glasses slid halfway down his nose. Until the 15th table sat, I never saw him write anything down.
Of all the meals I've eaten in Melbourne, it's the first restaurant to give me bread and water without charge.
And my wine - - red, thank you very much - - in a juice glass.
Fancy it's not.
The menu is on the wall - - sans prices. There are 30 entrees available (mostly pasta) plus five appetizers and about half a dozen dessert choices. The ambiance is closer to my mother's basement with its fake-wood paneling, so I'm not worried about it being expensive. This is not your typical Melbourne eatery.
The waiter (yes, only ONE) is a 60-ish man who moved very quickly and adeptly around and between the 16 tables (15 of which were filled by the time I left), taking orders over the top of his glasses slid halfway down his nose. Until the 15th table sat, I never saw him write anything down.
Of all the meals I've eaten in Melbourne, it's the first restaurant to give me bread and water without charge.
And my wine - - red, thank you very much - - in a juice glass.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
And now for something completely different
MELBOURNE-- When I first arrived in Melbourne, I resented it. I resented Melbourne for not being Port Douglas. For not being hot, sunny and mellow like my beloved PD. For not having that no shoes? no worries! attitude of PD.
But, just like people, you can't compare places. So, in search of the comfort of familiarity, I went to Manchester Lane, a jazz club where I enjoyed a great dinner and fun live music a few years back.
My evening was one like I never had in PD. I was drafted into a partying group of 20-somethings who invited me to come out with them tonight to some bar in Brunswick (?). While chatting with the bartenders (mostly female, so nothing there), I was approached by a young black woman who told me that I give off a great vibe and would I like to learn about white witchcraft. Um, huh??
Meanwhile, my bartender buddy Clare, had decided to name a drink after me. Apparently, it's scotch, Grand Marnier and ginger beer (ale) served in a glass with a sugared rim. Since I had been drinking kir royales (champagne and chambord) all night, I decided to come back another time to try "my" drink.
Partying with kids, white witchcraft and a drink named after me...Welcome to Melbourne!
But, just like people, you can't compare places. So, in search of the comfort of familiarity, I went to Manchester Lane, a jazz club where I enjoyed a great dinner and fun live music a few years back.
My evening was one like I never had in PD. I was drafted into a partying group of 20-somethings who invited me to come out with them tonight to some bar in Brunswick (?). While chatting with the bartenders (mostly female, so nothing there), I was approached by a young black woman who told me that I give off a great vibe and would I like to learn about white witchcraft. Um, huh??
Meanwhile, my bartender buddy Clare, had decided to name a drink after me. Apparently, it's scotch, Grand Marnier and ginger beer (ale) served in a glass with a sugared rim. Since I had been drinking kir royales (champagne and chambord) all night, I decided to come back another time to try "my" drink.
Partying with kids, white witchcraft and a drink named after me...Welcome to Melbourne!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Best airline ever!
PORT DOUGLAS, AUS - -When I was in Sydney, I was glad to have closed-toe shoes since it was rather chilly, windy and rainy. Now that I'm in steamy Port Douglas, I'm seriously wondering whether public nudity is truly illegal or simply frowned upon.
Anyway, now on to the commercial segment of our programming....
If you ever find your lucky selves in beautiful Australia and need to get from one lovely city to the next, there are several air options for you. Qantas is great, of course, and Jet Blue is a new low-cost airline, but for my money, you've got to fly Virgin Blue.
The flight crew was friendly, as all Aussies are, but we were lucky enough to have a hybrid Aussie named Barry, as our host for the three-hour flight from Sydney to Cairns (nearest airport to Port Douglas).
Barry is Irish.
And crazy.
Some of Barry's loudspeaker comments enroute:
"And straight from flight school, our pilot, Captain....."
"Virgin Blue prides itself on having the best, most professional flight crews. Unfortunately, they're all in Melbourne watching the Cup, so today we have....."
"All electronic devices must be turned off now. That includes cell phones, as they interfere with the pilot's pacemaker."
"If you have any questions while we're in the air, please don't hestitate to ask our purser Alyce. She knows everything."
"As all Virgin Blue flights, this is a non-smoking flight. Anyone caught smoking will be invited to take a seat on the wing and enjoying a complimentary viewing of "Gone with the Wind."
"Will the cabin crew now please hold hands and get ready for takeoff. Alyce! That's not my hand!"
"If you have anything stowed in the overhead bins, please be aware that items may have moved during the flight, so please be carefull. As everyone knows, shift happens."
"And from all of us, including the two boys in the pointy end, thanks for flying Virgin Blue."
Oh, and if that's not enough. We had a game of "guess the combined age of the cabin crew." Yes, they were all under 30, some significantly so. Our girl Alyce is only 24!
The fun is just beginning...
Anyway, now on to the commercial segment of our programming....
If you ever find your lucky selves in beautiful Australia and need to get from one lovely city to the next, there are several air options for you. Qantas is great, of course, and Jet Blue is a new low-cost airline, but for my money, you've got to fly Virgin Blue.
The flight crew was friendly, as all Aussies are, but we were lucky enough to have a hybrid Aussie named Barry, as our host for the three-hour flight from Sydney to Cairns (nearest airport to Port Douglas).
Barry is Irish.
And crazy.
Some of Barry's loudspeaker comments enroute:
"And straight from flight school, our pilot, Captain....."
"Virgin Blue prides itself on having the best, most professional flight crews. Unfortunately, they're all in Melbourne watching the Cup, so today we have....."
"All electronic devices must be turned off now. That includes cell phones, as they interfere with the pilot's pacemaker."
"If you have any questions while we're in the air, please don't hestitate to ask our purser Alyce. She knows everything."
"As all Virgin Blue flights, this is a non-smoking flight. Anyone caught smoking will be invited to take a seat on the wing and enjoying a complimentary viewing of "Gone with the Wind."
"Will the cabin crew now please hold hands and get ready for takeoff. Alyce! That's not my hand!"
"If you have anything stowed in the overhead bins, please be aware that items may have moved during the flight, so please be carefull. As everyone knows, shift happens."
"And from all of us, including the two boys in the pointy end, thanks for flying Virgin Blue."
Oh, and if that's not enough. We had a game of "guess the combined age of the cabin crew." Yes, they were all under 30, some significantly so. Our girl Alyce is only 24!
The fun is just beginning...
Monday, November 06, 2006
An old friend
SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA - - I'm fighting a losing battle to keep my eyes open as I've been here almost 10 hours already after having almost no sleep on the plane from Los Angeles. Although it's only 6 pm, I'm only staying awake long enough to write this and eat dinner - -I'm starving!
On another note, I'm in love with my bathroom (okay, that's sleep-deprivation talking). The room is the size of my kitchen with a two-person soaking tub in the corner. If only I'd talked to the wonderful Ken doll that was sitting two rows ahead of me on the plane, then maybe I'd have a partner in my lap pool. Oh well!
My room has a view over Hyde Park, two huge queen-sized beds and a flat screen TV...how cool is that?!?!
Not even attempting to masquerade as a local, I wore my Cubs hat as I got re-acquainted with Sydney. (Kinda surprised another (I'm guessing) tourist as he pointed at me and said something to his pals.)
Like an old friend with whom I've lost contact, I've found I have to tread carefully when warming up my love affair with this city...looking right instead of left when crossing the street, ordering a "flat white" for coffee, and trying to remember what the hell "rocket" is.
Which brings me to dinner tonight. I had a Brokenwood Shiraz with beef wellington. It's probably too much to spend on a first-night's dinner, but I'm starving! The wine is quite good. I wonder if it's the same wine that my colleague from Frankfurt suggested when he said "Bloodwood."
En route from Los Angeles, I caught up on my movie-watching with "The Lake House," the new "Pirates of the Carribbean," but I fell asleep before "Prairie Home Companion" began. Too bad!
Upon arrival in Sydney, I texted Leg Shaver Guy (remember him from my trip to Perth last year?) Yes, I know, another sleep-deprivation action! Anyway, he responded and said he'll email me. I just read his email and he's going to see if he can switch his schedule and catch up with me the week I'm in Sydney again (Nov. 15-22). We'll see.
What a snob I am!!! I just had a cheese plate for dessert (of course, since I had some wine left!) There was a really nice white cheddar, a creamy Kings Island brie and a not-too-strong stilton. The cheddar was good, but nuttier than I expected. A fabulous surprise, though, was the dates, apricots, prunes and raisins (or sultantas?) that accompanied the cheeses. Fabulous!
Okay, my stomach's full, so I am sooo ready for bed! (One more thing: total price for dinner with wine, entree and dessert? about $40 US!!!)
On another note, I'm in love with my bathroom (okay, that's sleep-deprivation talking). The room is the size of my kitchen with a two-person soaking tub in the corner. If only I'd talked to the wonderful Ken doll that was sitting two rows ahead of me on the plane, then maybe I'd have a partner in my lap pool. Oh well!
My room has a view over Hyde Park, two huge queen-sized beds and a flat screen TV...how cool is that?!?!
Not even attempting to masquerade as a local, I wore my Cubs hat as I got re-acquainted with Sydney. (Kinda surprised another (I'm guessing) tourist as he pointed at me and said something to his pals.)
Like an old friend with whom I've lost contact, I've found I have to tread carefully when warming up my love affair with this city...looking right instead of left when crossing the street, ordering a "flat white" for coffee, and trying to remember what the hell "rocket" is.
Which brings me to dinner tonight. I had a Brokenwood Shiraz with beef wellington. It's probably too much to spend on a first-night's dinner, but I'm starving! The wine is quite good. I wonder if it's the same wine that my colleague from Frankfurt suggested when he said "Bloodwood."
En route from Los Angeles, I caught up on my movie-watching with "The Lake House," the new "Pirates of the Carribbean," but I fell asleep before "Prairie Home Companion" began. Too bad!
Upon arrival in Sydney, I texted Leg Shaver Guy (remember him from my trip to Perth last year?) Yes, I know, another sleep-deprivation action! Anyway, he responded and said he'll email me. I just read his email and he's going to see if he can switch his schedule and catch up with me the week I'm in Sydney again (Nov. 15-22). We'll see.
What a snob I am!!! I just had a cheese plate for dessert (of course, since I had some wine left!) There was a really nice white cheddar, a creamy Kings Island brie and a not-too-strong stilton. The cheddar was good, but nuttier than I expected. A fabulous surprise, though, was the dates, apricots, prunes and raisins (or sultantas?) that accompanied the cheeses. Fabulous!
Okay, my stomach's full, so I am sooo ready for bed! (One more thing: total price for dinner with wine, entree and dessert? about $40 US!!!)
Friday, November 03, 2006
Things to do before I leave this place (in no particular order)
1. See all of the world's continents at least once.
2. Speak at least one other language fluently.
3. Write a novel and have it published.
4. Learn to express myself in music (either playing or singing).
5. Fall in love with someone who loves me.
6. Learn how to tune up my car and do an oil change.
7. Find a satisfying, challenging and lucrative career.
8. Live, at least for a while, in another country (not just visit).
9. Learn to golf reasonable well.
10. Fly first class.
11. Live in a house with a garden and a huge wrap-around porch.
12. Have shoes made for me by hand.
13. Do something worthy of a newspaper headline (and obits don't count.)
14. Be present when the Cubs win the World Series (although I may have to settle for the pennant.)
15. Spend a weekend at a beach house.
In the meantime, boys and girls, I'm off to spend yet another birthday in Australia. How cool is that?
Next stop...Sydney.
2. Speak at least one other language fluently.
3. Write a novel and have it published.
4. Learn to express myself in music (either playing or singing).
5. Fall in love with someone who loves me.
6. Learn how to tune up my car and do an oil change.
7. Find a satisfying, challenging and lucrative career.
8. Live, at least for a while, in another country (not just visit).
9. Learn to golf reasonable well.
10. Fly first class.
11. Live in a house with a garden and a huge wrap-around porch.
12. Have shoes made for me by hand.
13. Do something worthy of a newspaper headline (and obits don't count.)
14. Be present when the Cubs win the World Series (although I may have to settle for the pennant.)
15. Spend a weekend at a beach house.
In the meantime, boys and girls, I'm off to spend yet another birthday in Australia. How cool is that?
Next stop...Sydney.
Monday, October 30, 2006
They don't make jeans like they used to...
It's Saturday morning and I find myself waiting in line at the bank. Nothing unusual about that. But the guy in front of the queue has caught my attention and I can't quite put my finger on why.
He's young (probably late 20s or early 30s), not particularly cute, and he's just been summoned to a teller window. I don't know why they call them teller "windows" since there really isn't any window at all...but I digress.
Anyway, Bank Guy leans far into the bank teller's window, inappropriately close to the teller. She giggles nervously. He's kinda slimy, you know the type. I cringe for her.
Their transaction comes to a close, but not before I realized why my attention was drawn to him. There it is, on this young stud.
Visible.panty.line!
He's young (probably late 20s or early 30s), not particularly cute, and he's just been summoned to a teller window. I don't know why they call them teller "windows" since there really isn't any window at all...but I digress.
Anyway, Bank Guy leans far into the bank teller's window, inappropriately close to the teller. She giggles nervously. He's kinda slimy, you know the type. I cringe for her.
Their transaction comes to a close, but not before I realized why my attention was drawn to him. There it is, on this young stud.
Visible.panty.line!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
My day...or not
I'm busy at work and my mother calls to tell me that today is "my day." I should explain that my mother has nine (count 'em NINE!) children and takes turns praying for one of them each day. Hence, today is MY day.
I was pretty sure that Tuesday was NOT "my day." How did I know??
Yep, Tuesday was NOT my day.
I was pretty sure that Tuesday was NOT "my day." How did I know??
- Arrived at work to a coworker asking me "where's your earring?" Turns out, I lost one of my earrings. Not just any KMart cheap-o costume jewelry earring - - NO! I lost a hand-made pink beaded earring that I bought from a French woman at a craft fair in Australia. Positive spin: will be off to Australia Nov. 4 and may attend same craft fair.
- I had a date with 3-Minute Guy. Okay, I guess this should be a good thing, but it could be just me and the mood I've been in lately. I'm very stressed about preparing for my trip (with regards to work preparations). He was nice and polite (not trying to grab me or anything), but there was just no chemistry. Maybe I'll post more about the date later, but suffice to say, when I got a parking ticket THREE MINUTES after my coins ran out, I should've taken it as a sign.
- I got home from date with 3-Minute Guy and decided to sit down and watch the news before I went to bed. Well, I stumbled over my solid wood trunk/coffee table and took a Chevy Chase-worthy tumble that resulted in two stubbed toes and a scraped and black/blue thigh.
Yep, Tuesday was NOT my day.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Family...Croatian style
Just one or two last stories from my trip to Croatia with my mother, if you'll allow.
Although we were able to find the house where my grandfather was born in 1903, we didn't meet any of our relatives on the island of Cres. But Father Bandera, wonderful fellow that he is, made a call or two to the mainland and contacted members of our family who live in Rijeka (a larger city on the coast of Croatia which is very close to Opatija, our last stop).
A woman named Daria said that her mother-in-law, the woman for whom Father Bandera called, was out of town on holiday in Slovenia and wouldn't be back until Sunday. We were leaving Croatia on Sunday.
On that Friday, Daria called our hotel to say that her mother-in-law has decided to cut short her trip so that she could meet my mother. On Saturday, the day before we flew home to Chicago, my mother met for the first time Christina, her first cousin.
How cool is that?
I've told people that, for me, this trip is a combination of Travels in Europe and the History Channel. I guess it was also a peek inside our family album.
My grandfather, when he was a pre-teen, worked onboard the Italian navy ships. As a teenager, he joined the Merchant Marines. It was on one of these see-the-world trips where my grandfather jumped ship to come to America.
He arrived in Chicago, met my grandmother (who had been brought to America as a toddler), got married and started a family. As I've recently discovered, the village of Beli has strong ties to Chicago dating back many years. A man who knew my father in Beli saw him in Chicago and reported him. My grandfather was deported for 1 1/2 years when my mother was four years old.
Until that day in Croatia, I never knew that part of my mother's childhood.
Although we were able to find the house where my grandfather was born in 1903, we didn't meet any of our relatives on the island of Cres. But Father Bandera, wonderful fellow that he is, made a call or two to the mainland and contacted members of our family who live in Rijeka (a larger city on the coast of Croatia which is very close to Opatija, our last stop).
A woman named Daria said that her mother-in-law, the woman for whom Father Bandera called, was out of town on holiday in Slovenia and wouldn't be back until Sunday. We were leaving Croatia on Sunday.
On that Friday, Daria called our hotel to say that her mother-in-law has decided to cut short her trip so that she could meet my mother. On Saturday, the day before we flew home to Chicago, my mother met for the first time Christina, her first cousin.
How cool is that?
I've told people that, for me, this trip is a combination of Travels in Europe and the History Channel. I guess it was also a peek inside our family album.
My grandfather, when he was a pre-teen, worked onboard the Italian navy ships. As a teenager, he joined the Merchant Marines. It was on one of these see-the-world trips where my grandfather jumped ship to come to America.
He arrived in Chicago, met my grandmother (who had been brought to America as a toddler), got married and started a family. As I've recently discovered, the village of Beli has strong ties to Chicago dating back many years. A man who knew my father in Beli saw him in Chicago and reported him. My grandfather was deported for 1 1/2 years when my mother was four years old.
Until that day in Croatia, I never knew that part of my mother's childhood.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
A dip in the Adriatic Sea
September 21, 2006 -OPATIJA, CROATIA - - Mom's been slowly catching a cold, so I've been left to my own devices while she naps. After watching tons of tourists (mostly Germans, or so I'm told) swimming in the beautiful blue waters of the Adriatic, I decided to give it a go.
The sun was hot, temps in the low 80s and I found a small alcove where only a few people had chosen to jump in.
For me, all outdoor bodies of water are met with a certain amount of suspicion. This was no different. You know how a quick dip in a lake feels good on a hot day? The initial chill wears off once you splash around for a few minutes and get used to the temperature.
I descended the ladder to my knees and knew I was in trouble, but thought, "don't be a baby." I let go of the ladder and splashed into the dark, deep waters of the Adriatic Sea.
For the first time in my life, I was certain I would die of cardiac arrest - - and right now! Every inch of my body said, "Hey stupid! Get the fuck out of this water!!!"
So I did.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Minute (or three) men
To prove that I'm not entirely committed to my self-imposed social quarantine, I participated in a three-minute dating event yesterday. The locale was an upscale dating mecca: a small, dark, terribly romantic restaurant full of 2- and 4-person tables. No highchairs and kiddie menus here.
Two groups of singles gathered at the event and then split into separate rooms: the 21-35 year olds in one room, the 33-48 year olds in the other. Each group featured approximately 20 men and 20 women. I say "approximately" because my group was 2 men shy of 20 which meant that two times in the next hour, I found myself sitting alone with no prospective Romeo to chat up.
Each participant was handed a scorecard numbered 1 -100 with Yes / No and a tiny space...for notes, I guess. The plan was for each woman to sit at her assigned table and the men would sit at each table for 3-minute "dates."
Easy enough, but just how much can you find out about a person in just three minutes? Geez! That's barely enough time to cook an egg!
For the most part, it was name/rank/serial number - -or in my case, name/city of residence/if divorced, kids or no kids and maybe, if there was time, occupation. It was more or less a case of instinct and instantaneous chemistry (or lack thereof).
As a whole, I have to say that it was a pretty diverse group of guys. I met two photographers, one chemical engineer, one corporate relocation executive, two firemen, one concert violinist and one guy from a northwest suburb who I wouldn't date if he was Donald Trump hiding in Tom Selleck's body.
Okay, I should expound on the suburban fellow and what made him so icky (for me, at least).
In the first minute or two of chatting, he made several disparaging remarks about the city (parking, traffic, taxes, etc.). We were given a $25 gift certificate to the host restaurant and he said he intentionally left his at another table because he "certainly wouldn't be coming here again."
He also mentioned that if we decided that we could be a match, we could certainly find a place to meet (for our date) that would be somewhere in the middle for both of us.
Um, wait a minute...You'll spend $45 to sign up and drive almost an hour to go to an event where you might possibly meet a woman to date, but you won't drive the same to actually go on a date with her???
Oh, did I mention that he said that if I didn't mark "Yes" but changed my mind later...and he handed me a poker chip.
"Are you a gambler?" I asked him.
"No, but I'm betting on you."
When you're finished retching, I'll tell you that I did NOT circle Yes for him, but I did for three others.
The event planners sent the participants the email addresses of the other parties if each circled Yes. The mismatches were listed as "missed opportunities."
I matched with one guy and, apparently, missed nine other opportunities.
Point of discussion: Ladies, how old-fashioned are you? Do you want a guy to pick you up for a first date? Do you expect to pay for anything?
Gentlemen, how far will you drive to meet a woman on a first date? Does that change later in the relationship? How much do you generally spend on a first date?
Two groups of singles gathered at the event and then split into separate rooms: the 21-35 year olds in one room, the 33-48 year olds in the other. Each group featured approximately 20 men and 20 women. I say "approximately" because my group was 2 men shy of 20 which meant that two times in the next hour, I found myself sitting alone with no prospective Romeo to chat up.
Each participant was handed a scorecard numbered 1 -100 with Yes / No and a tiny space...for notes, I guess. The plan was for each woman to sit at her assigned table and the men would sit at each table for 3-minute "dates."
Easy enough, but just how much can you find out about a person in just three minutes? Geez! That's barely enough time to cook an egg!
For the most part, it was name/rank/serial number - -or in my case, name/city of residence/if divorced, kids or no kids and maybe, if there was time, occupation. It was more or less a case of instinct and instantaneous chemistry (or lack thereof).
As a whole, I have to say that it was a pretty diverse group of guys. I met two photographers, one chemical engineer, one corporate relocation executive, two firemen, one concert violinist and one guy from a northwest suburb who I wouldn't date if he was Donald Trump hiding in Tom Selleck's body.
Okay, I should expound on the suburban fellow and what made him so icky (for me, at least).
In the first minute or two of chatting, he made several disparaging remarks about the city (parking, traffic, taxes, etc.). We were given a $25 gift certificate to the host restaurant and he said he intentionally left his at another table because he "certainly wouldn't be coming here again."
He also mentioned that if we decided that we could be a match, we could certainly find a place to meet (for our date) that would be somewhere in the middle for both of us.
Um, wait a minute...You'll spend $45 to sign up and drive almost an hour to go to an event where you might possibly meet a woman to date, but you won't drive the same to actually go on a date with her???
Oh, did I mention that he said that if I didn't mark "Yes" but changed my mind later...and he handed me a poker chip.
"Are you a gambler?" I asked him.
"No, but I'm betting on you."
When you're finished retching, I'll tell you that I did NOT circle Yes for him, but I did for three others.
The event planners sent the participants the email addresses of the other parties if each circled Yes. The mismatches were listed as "missed opportunities."
I matched with one guy and, apparently, missed nine other opportunities.
Point of discussion: Ladies, how old-fashioned are you? Do you want a guy to pick you up for a first date? Do you expect to pay for anything?
Gentlemen, how far will you drive to meet a woman on a first date? Does that change later in the relationship? How much do you generally spend on a first date?
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Coming home to Beli
September 18, 2006- BELI (on Cres island), CROATIA - - When I saw my mom talking to Father Bendara in the language of her parents, I knew the trip was worth all the trouble. The 92-year-old priest in Beli knew my grandparents' family and spoke the dialect that is special to this tiny town.
Beli is a beautiful, primitive village - - make that kingdom -- on the edge of a mountain on the island of Cres. The 'roads' are not cute and cobblestone, but the roughest stone-and-moss hilly paths. The houses just a jumble of stone and cement in no discernable pattern.
Fr. Bendara called a local man who was visiting from Arizona (!) of all places...probably so I'd have someone to talk to since Father didn't speak any English. The two men showed us the town church (St. Mary's) where my mom got emotional thinking of her parents' history. After all, it was in this place that approximately 100 years ago, my grandparents were baptized. In fact, today would have been my grandmother's 99th birthday!
We took photos in front of the house #103 where my grandfather was born in 1903. According to Fr. Bendara, Beli has written history going back 2000 years! It was originally settled by the Romans and got its current moniker from a Hungarian king who came here to escape the Mongols. The whole country of Croatia was Communist until about 10 years ago, so it's got some pretty cool tales to tell.
In the summer, the population of Beli swells to about 30 people, but the rest of year - - like now - - only about 10 or 15 residents live in this remote setting. Of the handful of people we met, one lady spoke to my mom and told her that she used to live near Midway Airport in Chicago!
Before departing from Beli, we stopped for lunch in a cute outdoor restaurant that acts as the unofficial entrance to the village. Our young waiter spoke just enough English that we could order gnocchi made three ways (mushroom, procuitto and with meat), salad, bread, water and wine. Good lunch!!!
As we finished our lunch, the waiter brought a special drink for us - - a gift from the restaurant to the visitors. Two tiny shot glasses filled with clear liquid. At the bottom of each glass, we found a tiny chunk of fruit stabbed with a toothpick. Hmm??
I don't know about your family, but my family used to make prospective brothers-in-laws drink shots of a Croatian liquor called Slivovice (sp?). Kind of a trial of manhood. Think of a cross between lighter fluid and battery acid.
This was worse.
To kill the taste of the 'gift,' my mom and I decided to chase it with ice cream. Okay, that was an excuse. We were planning on having dessert anyhow. In another example of how tiny our planet really is, I walked throught the almost-empty restaurant on the edge of nowhere to the freezer chest and pulled out two Nestle ice cream bars.
Just arrived in Croatia
Sept. 17, 2006 -CRES (island), CROATIA - After about a billion flights, we arrived in (and on) Cres on Sunday and it's as peaceful and simple and as perfect an antidote for travel insanity as anyone could want.
My 78-year-old mom, God love her, is resting after probably just two or three hours' sleep since Friday night.
I'm sitting along the promenade enjoying the sun that was threatening not to come out and marvelling at the crystal-clear water - - not a cigarette butt in sight (amazing considering all the 'euros' that smoke!)
The "beaches" that line the promenade are actually minute pieces of real estate made entirely of pebbles. This same stone (limestone?) has been made into numerous walls in this area. The Croatians should challenge the Irish to a wall-building contest, no concrete allowed!
Think I'll dip my toes into the Adriatic...
Okay, now that I've said it, I've found it - -cigarette butts. But it's not going to bother me because I challenged my mom (and myself) to practice PMA (positive mental attitude) while we're here. So no bother to butts!
Being near the water seems to soothe my soul. I don't know why, I'm not even a Pisces!
I've been so busy planning this trip that I haven't given myself time to imagine the possibilities. I guess that's good because all I've done is worry about what could go wrong and really nothing has. And just getting here was going to be the hard part.
I'm really a city girl at heart so this remote and relatively undeveloped country has surprised me with its charm. Of course, sun and water always puts me in a good mood. I'm even voluntarily sitting near small children so you can tell I'm happily descending into vacation mode.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Stuck in a holding pattern
First off, I'd like to apologize to my loyal readers.
Both of you!
Ha!
I know I promised to have stories and photos of Croatia posted by now, but I'm having some issues with my laptop (insert joke here).
Also, a few other things have distracted me from repairing the tech issues:
I returned from Croatia just in time to get my last fix of baseball for 2006. Firecracker and I attended four Cubs games in the week I came home. As always, we'll wait til next year!
Oh, did I mention that the CEO also fired three of my coworkers that week?? including both of my bosses??? I'm not sure, but I think another coworker might be in the line of fire soon.
Yeah, not too stressful a week, huh?
The evening before the head honchos arrived, I got a call from The Editor. He called at 11:15 pm and I was already asleep, so I didn't call him back till after work the next day.
His news? A fellow former coworker died in a car accident that day and he thought I should know. Although I hadn't seen this guy in several years, I was struck with one thought: THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS JUST WRONG!
"Lem" was without doubt the sweetest, kindest, knight-in-shining-armor-type of guy you'd ever want to know. He was the only man I know of my generation who said things like, "Ma'am" and "Sir." And he was VERY handsome! He could stand in for Dermot Mulroney (sp?)...you know, the guy who played opposite Julia Roberts in "My Best Friend's Wedding."
And he was single. His mom told me that he was just thinking that he was ready to meet someone and settle down. He was 41.
Years ago, when we worked together, I got tickets to go see the band Squeeze. Of course, I had no one to go with me, so I asked Lem. He liked Squeeze, too, so he said yes. It was not a date, that was an absolute. Lem was more like my cousin than any possible boyfriend and it was more than fine. We had a great time at the show.
Last week, after I left Lem's wake, I stopped a few blocks away from the funeral home to get gasoline for the long ride home. It was one of those new gas stations that likes to entertain its customers while they pump gas, so they broadcast a local radio station.
The song?
"Tempted" by Squeeze.
I think it was Lem, thanking me for stopping by.
Both of you!
Ha!
I know I promised to have stories and photos of Croatia posted by now, but I'm having some issues with my laptop (insert joke here).
Also, a few other things have distracted me from repairing the tech issues:
I returned from Croatia just in time to get my last fix of baseball for 2006. Firecracker and I attended four Cubs games in the week I came home. As always, we'll wait til next year!
The next week featured a visit from our new CEO and also the new Head of Global Sales. I know the CEO from his history with our company, but the Global Sales guy was completely new to me. It was my job to introduce him to everyone, plan a TON of meetings, carefully repair a semantics difficulty with him, show him around the office AND prepare an outline of MY job responsibilities and accomplishments.
During that week, I ate lunch at my desk every day (when I was able to eat lunch AT ALL). Usually, I leave the office at 5, but not this week. In fact, I stayed so late one evening that the CEO, Global Sales guy and another division's boss invited me to join them for a late (9:30) dinner.
Dinner was actually fun. I made it a point to have interesting and funny stories to tell the CEO (who also attended the wedding in Spain in August). I also got the Global Sales guy to promise to bring me some of that fabulous German chocolate the next time he's in Chicago.Oh, did I mention that the CEO also fired three of my coworkers that week?? including both of my bosses??? I'm not sure, but I think another coworker might be in the line of fire soon.
Yeah, not too stressful a week, huh?
The evening before the head honchos arrived, I got a call from The Editor. He called at 11:15 pm and I was already asleep, so I didn't call him back till after work the next day.
His news? A fellow former coworker died in a car accident that day and he thought I should know. Although I hadn't seen this guy in several years, I was struck with one thought: THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS JUST WRONG!
"Lem" was without doubt the sweetest, kindest, knight-in-shining-armor-type of guy you'd ever want to know. He was the only man I know of my generation who said things like, "Ma'am" and "Sir." And he was VERY handsome! He could stand in for Dermot Mulroney (sp?)...you know, the guy who played opposite Julia Roberts in "My Best Friend's Wedding."
And he was single. His mom told me that he was just thinking that he was ready to meet someone and settle down. He was 41.
Years ago, when we worked together, I got tickets to go see the band Squeeze. Of course, I had no one to go with me, so I asked Lem. He liked Squeeze, too, so he said yes. It was not a date, that was an absolute. Lem was more like my cousin than any possible boyfriend and it was more than fine. We had a great time at the show.
Last week, after I left Lem's wake, I stopped a few blocks away from the funeral home to get gasoline for the long ride home. It was one of those new gas stations that likes to entertain its customers while they pump gas, so they broadcast a local radio station.
The song?
"Tempted" by Squeeze.
I think it was Lem, thanking me for stopping by.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Return to the land of the deodorant-wearers
Yes, I am back! Actually, I've been back for a few days now, but I haven't been able to post because I want to include photos and, as you fellow bloggers know, that takes some time. But I PROMISE to have photos and postings by the end of the weekend!
All I can say is...when I came back to my office on Monday and had my first cup of "real" coffee in a week, well, it was an orgasmic experience!
Sorry about the wait, but it will be worth it because the photos and the stories are great. You'll see...
All I can say is...when I came back to my office on Monday and had my first cup of "real" coffee in a week, well, it was an orgasmic experience!
Sorry about the wait, but it will be worth it because the photos and the stories are great. You'll see...
Friday, September 15, 2006
Next stop: Croatia
Trepidation. That's the word I was looking for.
Everyone's asking me if I'm excited about my trip to Croatia with my mother. (We leave tomorrow morning). "Excited" isn't really the word.
Here's the thing...I'm used to traveling alone. No one there to check if they're having a good time, no one to make me late for a flight, no discussions about how early is too early to get up or too late to be out.
It's just me. And except for a few trips with Firecracker, I usually prefer the solo route.
Coming and going on my mother's time will cramp my style, but I can live with that, I guess. But my mother isn't a young traveler (78!) and she's used to putting her luggage in the hall and having it magically appear at the next destination. I had to remind her that I didn't pack a valet.
I have a Croatian colleague who's been advising me on my travel plans. Well, yesterday I asked about tipping in Croatia. In some countries, leaving a tip is tantamount to wearing a t-shirt with an American flag on it and blowing your nose with $50 bills.
Suffice to say, I should be careful with my money in Croatia. It seems, at least according to my colleague, that all Eastern European nations have a tendency to cheat the tourists. "That's just the way it is," he said.
Fabulous!
After my trip to Spain, I got a little more comfortable with the euro, so I thought 'this will be easy.' But NOOOOO!!! Croatia doesn't use the euro, they use the kuna! One kuna equals about 17 cents American.
How's your math?
Smart girl that I am, I created a wallet-sized cheatsheet of kuna/US dollar conversions. By looking at this, we should at least know not to spend $80 on a sandwich and a Coke. Hopefully.
Usually, I get very excited and can't sleep the night before I take off on a trip. I don't know if I'll sleep tonight. Maybe a vodka and tonic will help.
Everyone's asking me if I'm excited about my trip to Croatia with my mother. (We leave tomorrow morning). "Excited" isn't really the word.
Here's the thing...I'm used to traveling alone. No one there to check if they're having a good time, no one to make me late for a flight, no discussions about how early is too early to get up or too late to be out.
It's just me. And except for a few trips with Firecracker, I usually prefer the solo route.
Coming and going on my mother's time will cramp my style, but I can live with that, I guess. But my mother isn't a young traveler (78!) and she's used to putting her luggage in the hall and having it magically appear at the next destination. I had to remind her that I didn't pack a valet.
I have a Croatian colleague who's been advising me on my travel plans. Well, yesterday I asked about tipping in Croatia. In some countries, leaving a tip is tantamount to wearing a t-shirt with an American flag on it and blowing your nose with $50 bills.
Suffice to say, I should be careful with my money in Croatia. It seems, at least according to my colleague, that all Eastern European nations have a tendency to cheat the tourists. "That's just the way it is," he said.
Fabulous!
After my trip to Spain, I got a little more comfortable with the euro, so I thought 'this will be easy.' But NOOOOO!!! Croatia doesn't use the euro, they use the kuna! One kuna equals about 17 cents American.
How's your math?
Smart girl that I am, I created a wallet-sized cheatsheet of kuna/US dollar conversions. By looking at this, we should at least know not to spend $80 on a sandwich and a Coke. Hopefully.
Usually, I get very excited and can't sleep the night before I take off on a trip. I don't know if I'll sleep tonight. Maybe a vodka and tonic will help.
Better late than never???
After receiving an extremely sincere-sounding apology the day after the ass-grabbing, lip-chewing, drunken slobber of a "date," I decided to give Newzie another chance and agreed to meet him for a Cubs game. We made arrangements, but the day before the game, he called to change the plan.
Seems he had been asked to substitute teach for a friend's college class. Could he meet me at the game, probably by the 4th or 5th inning?? Since I had been planning to attend the Cubs game before he offered to join me, I didn't mind the adjustment.
During the game, he said how happy he was that I agreed to see him. He was feeling bad about his behavior the night we met. I told him that I was giving him two choices: 1) we could pretend we just met and this is the first time we've gone out, or 2) he could pick up where he left off that night, but he'd have a very deep shit-hole to dig out of.
He wisely chose option #1.
From there on out, it seemed very much like a first date. Small talk. One beer each. A few laughs It was a beautiful evening and the Cubs even won! After the game, we decided to return to the scene of the crime, so to speak, and headed to the same post-game watering hole where we met.
Two drinks later, Newzie insisted on walking me home. From my perspective, he was still on probation, so I didn't respond when he put his arm around my waist as we left the bar. Standing in front of my building, we kissed a bit but nothing like the tonsil-hockey of the first night - - fortunately.
"You're getting me excited," he said.
"Then I'd better send you home."
We spoke briefly a few days later and, I thought, made plans to have a drink after the Bears game. When no call came that night or in the following days, I figured he was just looking for nooky and when I didn't oblige, he bailed...
Till he called a few minutes ago to wish me a safe and fun trip to Croatia.
He wanted to see me tonight but realized that I'd be packing and there was no chance. Newzie asked me to please save an evening for him when I return when he wants to see pictures and hear all about my trip.
Seems he had been asked to substitute teach for a friend's college class. Could he meet me at the game, probably by the 4th or 5th inning?? Since I had been planning to attend the Cubs game before he offered to join me, I didn't mind the adjustment.
During the game, he said how happy he was that I agreed to see him. He was feeling bad about his behavior the night we met. I told him that I was giving him two choices: 1) we could pretend we just met and this is the first time we've gone out, or 2) he could pick up where he left off that night, but he'd have a very deep shit-hole to dig out of.
He wisely chose option #1.
From there on out, it seemed very much like a first date. Small talk. One beer each. A few laughs It was a beautiful evening and the Cubs even won! After the game, we decided to return to the scene of the crime, so to speak, and headed to the same post-game watering hole where we met.
Two drinks later, Newzie insisted on walking me home. From my perspective, he was still on probation, so I didn't respond when he put his arm around my waist as we left the bar. Standing in front of my building, we kissed a bit but nothing like the tonsil-hockey of the first night - - fortunately.
"You're getting me excited," he said.
"Then I'd better send you home."
We spoke briefly a few days later and, I thought, made plans to have a drink after the Bears game. When no call came that night or in the following days, I figured he was just looking for nooky and when I didn't oblige, he bailed...
Till he called a few minutes ago to wish me a safe and fun trip to Croatia.
He wanted to see me tonight but realized that I'd be packing and there was no chance. Newzie asked me to please save an evening for him when I return when he wants to see pictures and hear all about my trip.
Monday, September 11, 2006
That day
All across the web, people are remembering where they were on this day five years ago. My first memories aren't of a place, but of a face.My coworker came to my desk, his eyes red and swollen. He collapsed into a chair with a shell-shocked look on his face. One of our clients - - one of his clients - - had an office in one of the World Trade Center towers.
They weren't there anymore.
Technically, this specific scene happened on Sept. 12, but back then, time was meaningless. At least for a few days.
As for the events of Sept. 11, 2001, they are as clear in my mind today as they were then. The first inkling I had that something had happened (strange how people say 'something had happened' like there was a traffic accident) was a cell phone ringing for a fellow passenger on the CTA bus that I took to work. Normally, no one cared about a call, much less bothered to listen to the conversation. But it seemed like the phone wasn't ringing for her, but for all of us as she hung up and said to no one in particular, "a plane just hit the World Trade Center."
I didn't understand the implications. How could I?
When I arrived at my desk, I noticed that everyone was in the next room, gathered around one of the few televisions on our floor. I thought it was a replay on CNN as I saw a plane flying unbelievably low in the Manhattan sky. Then it hit the remaining tower!
One of our board members turned to me and instructed me to close the office. We had only just opened for the day.
I'm normally the last one out of our office and this day was no different. Actually, it was different because all of my colleagues waited at my desk until I was ready to leave. We closed the office together and walked out of our building together. Instinctively, I looked up and west to the Sears Tower and wondered if that skyscraper would still stand the next day. (Ironic that we now work in the Sears Tower. Or maybe it's just scary.)
With no particular place to go, we wandered without purpose, thought or speech among the thousands of Chicagoans that were released from their offices. We stopped momentarily at a TV in an office window and watched as one of the towers fell.
We walked for blocks and I couldn't help but think to myself, "this isn't supposed to happen to us! We're the United States of America for chrissakes!" Instead of screaming my anger and indignation, I just walked on in numbed silence.
Eventually, we decided that we would each go home and deal with the situation in our own way. For me, that included taking a transistor radio, a bottle of water and my keys and getting the HELL out of my high-rise apartment and to the relative safety (?!) of the lakefront.
God speed to my friends across the globe who are thinking of us today.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Newzie
When he called for the third time that day, I suspected he might be "one of those." You know the type. He generously offers to not only father your children, but put them through college and retire with you to Maui - -and that's in the first five minutes of conversation.
I met "Newzie" after the Cubs game on Saturday. Having attended the game alone, I began to enjoy a post-game cocktail at one of my favorite haunts when I noticed him peering at me through the crowd.
Describe him? Well, if this were a police blotter, he'd be the epitome of "average:" average height, average weight, medium dark brown hair, brown eyes, late 40s.
Strangely enough, our conversation seemed to click with similar interests: baseball, travel, people-watching, etc. Newzie apparently had some friends in town from California but was ready and willing to ditch them and take me to dinner instead.
Pasta and a bottle of wine later, Newzie leaned over and kissed me. (He had already been silently smooching my hand and telling me how beautiful I was throughout dinner). It was a nice, polite kiss, nothing terribly aggressive so I enjoyed it although I hadn't yet decided where this date would lead...if anywhere.
After dinner, we enjoyed a few more drinks with Newzie getting tipsy and me, well, of course, I wasn't even buzzed because I have the alcohol tolerance of a Mardi Gras parade grand marshall. We landed at a nearby jazz club which, despite being almost empty, gave us the VIP super-secret back booth. Newzie ordered another bottle of wine.
Beer + wine + post-dinner cocktails + more wine = one horny bastard. What started out as nice, polite kisses quickly turned into an almost violent tonsilectomy with a few ass grabs thrown in for good measure. He was very interested in having sex with me and I think he would've started the proceedings right then and there had I not put the kybosh (sp?) on that.
Trying to bring the evening back to more secure footing, I backed out of the last kiss and tried to continue what had been interesting conversation. I learned that he'd been married for 10 years but was now divorced. How long since the divorce? About a year!
There it was, the answer to the question that had been itching the back of my psyche all night: why is he interested in spending so much time with me? Why not get the phone number and move on? That's the answer! He's not dating, he's auditioning replacements!
The liquor/truth serum kicked in and he admitted that after getting divorced, he dated a 22-year-old for a little while. Oh, did I mention that he's more than twice that age?!?!
Strange how the mind works sometimes, huh? It was just then that it occurred to me that I've been offered sex two times in the past 10 days!!! By two different men!!! On two different continents!! Yay for me!
Maybe it's because I haven't been in a relationship (read: sex) in two years, but I decided that Newzie had some redeeming qualities, particularly when sober. BUT...If you looked up the definition of "rebound," the dictionary would show his picture.
It's a minefield, I know. Newzie suggested joining me for a Cubs game soon. We'll see...
I met "Newzie" after the Cubs game on Saturday. Having attended the game alone, I began to enjoy a post-game cocktail at one of my favorite haunts when I noticed him peering at me through the crowd.
Describe him? Well, if this were a police blotter, he'd be the epitome of "average:" average height, average weight, medium dark brown hair, brown eyes, late 40s.
Strangely enough, our conversation seemed to click with similar interests: baseball, travel, people-watching, etc. Newzie apparently had some friends in town from California but was ready and willing to ditch them and take me to dinner instead.
Pasta and a bottle of wine later, Newzie leaned over and kissed me. (He had already been silently smooching my hand and telling me how beautiful I was throughout dinner). It was a nice, polite kiss, nothing terribly aggressive so I enjoyed it although I hadn't yet decided where this date would lead...if anywhere.
After dinner, we enjoyed a few more drinks with Newzie getting tipsy and me, well, of course, I wasn't even buzzed because I have the alcohol tolerance of a Mardi Gras parade grand marshall. We landed at a nearby jazz club which, despite being almost empty, gave us the VIP super-secret back booth. Newzie ordered another bottle of wine.
Beer + wine + post-dinner cocktails + more wine = one horny bastard. What started out as nice, polite kisses quickly turned into an almost violent tonsilectomy with a few ass grabs thrown in for good measure. He was very interested in having sex with me and I think he would've started the proceedings right then and there had I not put the kybosh (sp?) on that.
Trying to bring the evening back to more secure footing, I backed out of the last kiss and tried to continue what had been interesting conversation. I learned that he'd been married for 10 years but was now divorced. How long since the divorce? About a year!
There it was, the answer to the question that had been itching the back of my psyche all night: why is he interested in spending so much time with me? Why not get the phone number and move on? That's the answer! He's not dating, he's auditioning replacements!
The liquor/truth serum kicked in and he admitted that after getting divorced, he dated a 22-year-old for a little while. Oh, did I mention that he's more than twice that age?!?!
Strange how the mind works sometimes, huh? It was just then that it occurred to me that I've been offered sex two times in the past 10 days!!! By two different men!!! On two different continents!! Yay for me!
Maybe it's because I haven't been in a relationship (read: sex) in two years, but I decided that Newzie had some redeeming qualities, particularly when sober. BUT...If you looked up the definition of "rebound," the dictionary would show his picture.
It's a minefield, I know. Newzie suggested joining me for a Cubs game soon. We'll see...
Monday, September 04, 2006
Sangria, tapas and dinner at 10
BARCELONA, SPAIN- -It's hard to know where to begin to describe my unfortunately short visit to Spain for my friend JT's wedding. Food, however, was an integral part of the festivities - so much so that I don't think I have the vocabulary to tell you how amazing it
was.
I must say, though, that when I think of all things Spanish, I think of sangria (but maybe that's because I'm an alchoholic!!) Anyway, it seems when you order a Coke or even water in Spain, you are lucky to get about six ounces - - maybe! But order sangria and you get a gallon jug with a slice of lemon and a straw! Gotta love Spain!
I do plan to tell you about the wedding, but first, the photos. The top three are examples of Antoni Gaudi's work (the middle being Sagrada Familia). He's one of Spain's most famous architects. The rest are scenes from La Rambla, a wide boulevard in central Barcelona full of shops, restaurants, hotels and markets.
But back to the food at the wedding reception...One of the first trays of hors d'oeuvres featured a tall martini glass filled with thick orange cream. The foot of the glass was submerged in a beach of black poppy seeds from which shards of fried tostadas stuck out. The idea was to grab a tostada and dip it into the cream, which turned out to be mango puree. Yum!!
Another tray contained martini glasses brimming with cloudy water in which floated several specks of spices. Hmmn?? Melon juice!
A third tray (of approximately 15 hot and cold appetizers) was loaded with miniature shot glasses that contained murky water with some unknown item in the bottom and a tiny spear in each glass. What is this mysterious food item??? Shots of mussels! Okay, I'm not a big fan of seafood, but that was pretty cool.
Also on the menu for appetizers was foie gras, salmon, lobster, anchovies and squid. No cheez-wiz here!
As for the wedding ceremony, it was pretty memorable, too. A bus whisked all of us to a small village about an hour outside of Barcelona. The church itself was a tiny stone building on a hill. The afternoon turned a bit warm so a friend of the bride gave to each woman a delicate paper fan - - how wonderfully Spanish!
At the mid-point of the ceremony (which was almost entirely in Spanish), a husband-and-wife duo sang what became the anthem of the day, "(Say that you love me) Before the Sun Goes Down." The woman's voice was accompanied by acoustic guitar and the almost tribal, hollow THUNK of a bongo echoing off the stone walls of the chapel. It was quite stirring.
Sitting down to dinner, I noticed that each place setting featured FOUR wine glasses! Gotta love weddings like that! Okay, one glass was for water, but still!
After dinner, we adjourned to the outdoors for dancing. A small dance floor was set among the pebbled patio. I was afraid to introduce my brand-new four-inch heels to tiny stones and my fears proved true during the first painful dance. In another stroke of wonderfully creative thinking, the bridal couple provided all of the women with various sizes of silver flip-flops for dancing!
Oh, did I mention that I was dancing with this French guy who was quite sure he was going home with me (to my hotel, not to Chicago)?? Unlike so many American guys who find a girl and stick to her like glue for the remainder of the evening, Frenchy danced with me, other girls and even the guys (not slow dancing!) but made it clear he was interested in the blond American.
Um, no I didn't sleep with him. But I did stay out until 7 am!!!
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Killing time in Dublin Airport
Please excuse the late posting, but I didn't have internet access during my foray into Europe.
DUBLIN (AIRPORT) - Highlights of a 3-hour layover in Ireland:
DUBLIN (AIRPORT) - Highlights of a 3-hour layover in Ireland:
- Got a bit worried about finding the airport when my view out the airplane window featured miles and miles of green grass and a few tiny white buildings scattered about. Nothing to suggest a city, much less an air traffice control tower and runways.
- Taxiing to the gate, I saw a small herd of cows grazing alongside the runway. Gotta love Europe!!
- In the ladies restroom in the terminal, I spotted an ad for a nearby hotel described as being located in the "airside retail park." Sounds like a lovely, picturesque venue, doesn't it?
- Walking toward my connection gate, my path took me up a flight of stairs in the terminal..a flight of wooden stairs!
- The "transfer hallway" was something out of a fun house. With each right- or left-handed turn, the hallway became substantially narrower until the corrider was no more than 30 inches wide! Fat Americans need not apply.
- Instantly I was swept away from the glass and steel of Terminal B and transported into the rich, dark wood and even darker beer of the Ol' Sod at The Gate Clock, a fabulous pub in the airport.
And this is where I sat for an hour, nursing not a Guiness, but a latte. (Gimme a break, it was 8:30 am Ireland-time).
I love international terminals! The bookstores, coffee shops and souvenir stores all look the same no matter if you're in Chicago, Dublin or Sydney. But the dark or light or freckled faces! and the lilting, gutteral or twangy voices!! Fantastic! One of my favorite low-cash entertainment venues used to be O'Hare's Terminal 1. The dramatic hellos and teary goodbyes were better than any Hollywood flick. Of course, that was a wonderful way to spend an evening until bastards turned the numbers 9 and 11 into a horrific date of infamy.
But I digress.
All eyes glance up periodically, digesting the numbers and letters that flicker across the arrival and departure boards. More than once I've seen someone glance quickly at the monitor and break into a dead run for a departure only moments away. These situations, however, are reserved almost exclusively for Heathrow Airport in London, also known as Heart Attack Central.
Two older gentlemen sit at the table next to me, sipping Guinness from small glasses. I think they're speaking English, but I'm in Ireland and this native tongue is a totally different animal altogether. The clock reads 10 am local time. I wonder what time their bodies say it is?
Best t-shirt seen today: "Mumbassa Univ. 98"
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
List of things I can't have in my carry-on
Okay, so I leave for Spain tomorrow night. I'm attending a former co-worker's wedding (to catch up any blog-reading late-comers.) Now that I think about it, it's the fourth such wedding in the past 18 months. Yeesh!
Anyway, back on topic. I was planning not to check any baggage at all, BUT NO!!!! those shitheads had to screw up the already screwed-up airline security systems and now almost all of my Barcelona-bound items will be shoe-horned into a former carry-on bag.
In my carry-on:
Purse (intentionally devoid of lip gloss and hand cream)
Passport (with flight and hotel confirmations)
Euros (and some USD)
Wedding cards from me and also two of my colleagues
Brand-spanking new digital camera
Not-so-new cell phone
Beat-up, but still working iPod
Mini AM radio (for Cubs game while coming home Sunday)
Jewelry (including pearls bought in China)
Sounds heavy, doesn't it?
Checked bag items:
Four days' worth of clothes (including new dress, new shoes, new purse for wedding)
Hair dryer and flat iron
Fire Jolly Ranchers for new CEO (yep, I'm a brown-nose, what of it??)
International adapter(s)
Chargers for above-noted cell phone, iPod and camera
Hair products (shampoo, conditioner, hair spray, styling lotion)
Makeup (including lip gloss, mascara, perfume)
Shower gel and moisturizer
Contact lens solution
Nail polish
**** Wait! I was just reading the TSA (Transportation Safety Administration) website regarding what we can and cannot bring in a carry-on. Toothpaste is still a no go, but "personal lubricants" are allowed! I guess that's so we can join the Mile High Club enroute to Europe! Note to self: stop at Walgreens on my way to the airport.
Oh, and nitroglycerine pills (and sprays) are allowed. Um, wait. Isn't "nitro" the stuff that Batman's enemies were always trying to use to threaten Gotham City? And that stuff's allowed on board my plane?!! Sure, now I feel secure...
See everyone next week (and I promise to post pics of Barcelona, if Blogger will cooperate!)
Anyway, back on topic. I was planning not to check any baggage at all, BUT NO!!!! those shitheads had to screw up the already screwed-up airline security systems and now almost all of my Barcelona-bound items will be shoe-horned into a former carry-on bag.
In my carry-on:
Purse (intentionally devoid of lip gloss and hand cream)
Passport (with flight and hotel confirmations)
Euros (and some USD)
Wedding cards from me and also two of my colleagues
Brand-spanking new digital camera
Not-so-new cell phone
Beat-up, but still working iPod
Mini AM radio (for Cubs game while coming home Sunday)
Jewelry (including pearls bought in China)
Sounds heavy, doesn't it?
Checked bag items:
Four days' worth of clothes (including new dress, new shoes, new purse for wedding)
Hair dryer and flat iron
Fire Jolly Ranchers for new CEO (yep, I'm a brown-nose, what of it??)
International adapter(s)
Chargers for above-noted cell phone, iPod and camera
Hair products (shampoo, conditioner, hair spray, styling lotion)
Makeup (including lip gloss, mascara, perfume)
Shower gel and moisturizer
Contact lens solution
Nail polish
**** Wait! I was just reading the TSA (Transportation Safety Administration) website regarding what we can and cannot bring in a carry-on. Toothpaste is still a no go, but "personal lubricants" are allowed! I guess that's so we can join the Mile High Club enroute to Europe! Note to self: stop at Walgreens on my way to the airport.
Oh, and nitroglycerine pills (and sprays) are allowed. Um, wait. Isn't "nitro" the stuff that Batman's enemies were always trying to use to threaten Gotham City? And that stuff's allowed on board my plane?!! Sure, now I feel secure...
See everyone next week (and I promise to post pics of Barcelona, if Blogger will cooperate!)
Friday, August 18, 2006
It's always something!
How's this for stupidity? I've just heard on CNN that some moron is suing the Oakland A's for discrimination. Here's the deal: the team sponsored a Ladies Night giveaway of pink baseball caps. He asked for one and the ballpark employee laughed, but wouldn't give him one. This goofball wants $4,000 for himself and EVERY man at the game that night! He claims that the marketing ploy discriminates against men.
Apparently, this same genius also tried to sue the LA Angels for discrimination when he didn't get a totebag during the team's Mother's Day promotion.
Did someone not get enough love as a child?? OR does he secretly want to be a woman?? Maybe he just has an unnatural love of the color pink?
If there is any justice in this world, a judge will drag this toad into a courtroom, force him to buy a ticket to tomorrow's game for everyone in the courtroom and then smack him upside his noggin and physically throw his ass out of the courtroom!!!
But you know how things work in today's world. He'll probably settle out of court and force all baseball teams to re-think their marketing plans. The hard part? this asshat's a lawyer!
Hold onto your floppy hats, keychains, replica jerseys, bobbleheads and refrigerator magnets!
Apparently, this same genius also tried to sue the LA Angels for discrimination when he didn't get a totebag during the team's Mother's Day promotion.
Did someone not get enough love as a child?? OR does he secretly want to be a woman?? Maybe he just has an unnatural love of the color pink?
If there is any justice in this world, a judge will drag this toad into a courtroom, force him to buy a ticket to tomorrow's game for everyone in the courtroom and then smack him upside his noggin and physically throw his ass out of the courtroom!!!
But you know how things work in today's world. He'll probably settle out of court and force all baseball teams to re-think their marketing plans. The hard part? this asshat's a lawyer!
Hold onto your floppy hats, keychains, replica jerseys, bobbleheads and refrigerator magnets!
Monday, August 14, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Diamond mind
You KNOW you've had too much exposure to baseball when the following happens:
While typing an email to a colleague while at work, I heard CNN say "Babe Ruth is under attack." I couldn't help but think, "what? the guy's dead! who's attacking a dead guy?" But then I thought maybe they are doing a soft news story about baseball and the Babe Ruth homerun record and they mean that his RECORD is being threatened. You know, the whole Barry Bonds homerun thing.
I looked up at the television in our office and saw that CNN was actually doing a story on Beirut!
Um, okay, now I get it.
While typing an email to a colleague while at work, I heard CNN say "Babe Ruth is under attack." I couldn't help but think, "what? the guy's dead! who's attacking a dead guy?" But then I thought maybe they are doing a soft news story about baseball and the Babe Ruth homerun record and they mean that his RECORD is being threatened. You know, the whole Barry Bonds homerun thing.
I looked up at the television in our office and saw that CNN was actually doing a story on Beirut!
Um, okay, now I get it.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Weekend in Washington
I've been to many professional baseball parks in my travels and this past weekend found me in our nation's capital, visiting Jada, my sister J and, of course, catching a few Cubs games at Robert F. Kennedy Memorial Stadium.
And you can't be in Washington DC without seeing some political figures. But I'm pretty sure our forefathers didn't see this coming...
And you can't be in Washington DC without seeing some political figures. But I'm pretty sure our forefathers didn't see this coming...
Friday, July 21, 2006
On the road (?) again
In one of my favorite movies, "It's a Wonderful Life," Jimmy Stewart's character wistfully details his future, one he envisions will include travel to exotic destinations. George tells Uncle Billy, "the three most exciting sounds are plane motors, anchor chains, and train whistles."I couldn't agree more! Nothing puts me in a better mood than knowing I'm going on a trip.
Funny thing is, I've got so many trips planned for the next few months that I had to remember which airline I'm flying and out of which airport I'm leaving for my trip TODAY!!! Yep, I'm off to the East Coast where I'll visit Jada and my "Sister J" and, um, okay, so I'm going to two Cubs/Nationals games too! You knew THAT was happening.
I bought the game tickets months ago, before I ever met The Announcer (for the Nationals). But, yes, I did call and let him know I'd be in town. He sounded pleased, so we'll see. Hopefully, he can meet us for drinks tonight.
But what REALLY made my heart beat a bit faster today was the booking I made for my annual birthday trip in November. We have a precarious situation at my office currently, one that would prevent any normal human being from planning a disappearance. But, hey, this is me! and travel is a big part of who I am, so damned! I was defininitely going...somewhere!
For the past five years, I've been fortunate enough to be able to celebrate my birthday in another city, usually another country. It's totally hedonistic and I love it! Originally, the plan was to travel to new and exciting places every year without seeing the same country twice, at least until I'd seen every continent.
And then I went to Australia.
Unless you've been there, there is no way to explain the love affair I have with the land Down Under. The Sydney Opera House, the Great Barrier Reef, Melbourne. I can't help but smile when I think of my old friends, having visited them three or four times in the past six years.
I'm always home in time for Thanksgiving, and that's where it gets tricky. I try to use frequent flier miles for my birthday trips (who wants to pay for their own birthday??), but the freebies are severely limited and snatched up very quickly. So, when Erin of United's award travel told me that she could get me on flights to take me to and from Sydney, I wanted to crawl through the phone line and hug her!
Happy Friday everybody!!!
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
It's a look
My hair is getting pretty long. Actually, it's longer than its been in years. Celebrating this burst of cranial protein, I flat-ironed my hair yesterday. It's just something I do occasionally when I'm bored and I'd like a different look. Of course when I did it, I didn't realize that I'd uncovered my alter-ego...
Monday, July 10, 2006
Solitary Confinement
Yep folks, it was strep throat and for about two days, I was locked up. That's never a good thing for me. Makes me crazy.
On Thursday, I almost drowned in my own saliva because it hurt too bad to swallow. My wonderful doctor gave me some drugs, including a prescription for amoxycillin (sp?).
Okay, answer me this: if I can't even swallow my own spit, how I am expected to choke down this horse pill?? The answer? My answer for everything - - ice cream! My dad would've been proud to see me pulverizing a pill. I then sprinkled said drug on vanilla ice cream, added orange juice and VOILA! an amped-up dreamsicle!
After sleeping for no less than 11 hours, I awoke on Friday and COULD SWALLOW!!!! Okay, the throat was still sore, but solid food was no longer the enemy. Question of the day: does anyone know what Alexander Fleming was famous for?*
Sitting at home wallowing in my misery, I got a bit cranky (hard to believe, I know!!) and toyed with the idea of getting all dressed up and going out, spreading the joy of strep throat. Specifically, I planned to hook up with ex-boyfriends and play tonsil-hockey for a while and then merrily go on my way to the next victim. A modern day Typhoid Mary! Fortunately, I had not taken the other drugs yet, or else the trouble REALLY would've started.
The other drug my doctor prescribed was steroids. I wanted to say, "Hey doc, I'm not in the lineup today, what's with the juice?" She explained that the steroids would bring down the chipmunk-like swelling in my throat. The side effects she mentioned were hunger, sleep disruptions and possible depression. Little did she know...
I discovered a few other side effects when I went to bed on Friday. I set my alarm clock so that I didn't sleep all day on Saturday. I can't even explain why I set the alarm when I had nowhere to go and nothing to do on Saturday. Anyway, when I awoke to no alarm and checked the settings, I realized that I had set the alarm to wake me up Saturday NIGHT!
Steroid side effect #1: stupidity.
Saturday was so beautiful and warm that I wanted to get some sun, so I pulled on a bikini and trotted up to the rooftop deck where I knew I'd be alone. Everyone else has freedom!!! Everyone else is at.the.beach! Half asleep in the sun, I noticed that my tall, dark-haired, cute Irish neighbor had taken a spot about 10 feet away from me on the deck. A smile crept across my face as the fantasies began.
Steroid side effect #2: horniness.
In light of those two interactions, I guess it's probably a good thing I was quarantined.
*Oh, I forgot! My hero, Alexander Fleming, was a Scottish scientist who discovered penicillin in 1928. Why we won't have a worldwide holiday in his honor is beyond me!
On Thursday, I almost drowned in my own saliva because it hurt too bad to swallow. My wonderful doctor gave me some drugs, including a prescription for amoxycillin (sp?).
Okay, answer me this: if I can't even swallow my own spit, how I am expected to choke down this horse pill?? The answer? My answer for everything - - ice cream! My dad would've been proud to see me pulverizing a pill. I then sprinkled said drug on vanilla ice cream, added orange juice and VOILA! an amped-up dreamsicle!
After sleeping for no less than 11 hours, I awoke on Friday and COULD SWALLOW!!!! Okay, the throat was still sore, but solid food was no longer the enemy. Question of the day: does anyone know what Alexander Fleming was famous for?*
Sitting at home wallowing in my misery, I got a bit cranky (hard to believe, I know!!) and toyed with the idea of getting all dressed up and going out, spreading the joy of strep throat. Specifically, I planned to hook up with ex-boyfriends and play tonsil-hockey for a while and then merrily go on my way to the next victim. A modern day Typhoid Mary! Fortunately, I had not taken the other drugs yet, or else the trouble REALLY would've started.
The other drug my doctor prescribed was steroids. I wanted to say, "Hey doc, I'm not in the lineup today, what's with the juice?" She explained that the steroids would bring down the chipmunk-like swelling in my throat. The side effects she mentioned were hunger, sleep disruptions and possible depression. Little did she know...
I discovered a few other side effects when I went to bed on Friday. I set my alarm clock so that I didn't sleep all day on Saturday. I can't even explain why I set the alarm when I had nowhere to go and nothing to do on Saturday. Anyway, when I awoke to no alarm and checked the settings, I realized that I had set the alarm to wake me up Saturday NIGHT!
Steroid side effect #1: stupidity.
Saturday was so beautiful and warm that I wanted to get some sun, so I pulled on a bikini and trotted up to the rooftop deck where I knew I'd be alone. Everyone else has freedom!!! Everyone else is at.the.beach! Half asleep in the sun, I noticed that my tall, dark-haired, cute Irish neighbor had taken a spot about 10 feet away from me on the deck. A smile crept across my face as the fantasies began.
Steroid side effect #2: horniness.
In light of those two interactions, I guess it's probably a good thing I was quarantined.
*Oh, I forgot! My hero, Alexander Fleming, was a Scottish scientist who discovered penicillin in 1928. Why we won't have a worldwide holiday in his honor is beyond me!
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Fire in the hole
Daggers. Hundreds of them. They sit poised just between the jagged shards of glass and just behind the pools of fiery gasoline that line my vocal cords. My body tenses to absorb the explosion of torture that comes with every swallow.
Sleep is not an option.
Is this what strep throat feels like?
I'll find out this afternoon.
Wish me luck.
Sleep is not an option.
Is this what strep throat feels like?
I'll find out this afternoon.
Wish me luck.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Belly lint??
On one of our rare sunny days recently, I threw on a bikini, packed up a mini-chair, book, radio and some sunscreen and trudged the two flights of stairs up to the roof of my building in search of a tan. Knowing I would get hungry the moment I finished applying sunscreen, I also packed a granola bar and a bottle of water. Smart, huh?
Reclining into my green sun chair, I crunched into the granola bar and was a bit embarrassed to see a tiny crumb of granola roll down my chest and disappear into the canyon of my belly button. I have to say that the "navel" is an area of the body that's always grossed me out. It's the leftover knot where once a life-giving hose was attached. Needless to say, I really didn't want to have to go digging in this mysterious crevice for a miniscule food item.
Not to attract the attention of my fellow sunbathers, I remained in the reclining position and brushed my hand down my belly in an attempt to dislodge the offending item. The crumb flew up in the air momentarily and then immediately disappeared once again...kind of like an ant on a trampoline.
After a few minutes of unsuccessful (but highly entertaining) brushing, I rolled over to my side and out skipping the bit of granola. At the same time, the sun went behind some newly arrived clouds and my fun in the sun was over.
I tried to avoid the concerned look of my neighboring sunbather as I quickly collected my belongings and retreated to my apartment for the evening.
Reclining into my green sun chair, I crunched into the granola bar and was a bit embarrassed to see a tiny crumb of granola roll down my chest and disappear into the canyon of my belly button. I have to say that the "navel" is an area of the body that's always grossed me out. It's the leftover knot where once a life-giving hose was attached. Needless to say, I really didn't want to have to go digging in this mysterious crevice for a miniscule food item.
Not to attract the attention of my fellow sunbathers, I remained in the reclining position and brushed my hand down my belly in an attempt to dislodge the offending item. The crumb flew up in the air momentarily and then immediately disappeared once again...kind of like an ant on a trampoline.
After a few minutes of unsuccessful (but highly entertaining) brushing, I rolled over to my side and out skipping the bit of granola. At the same time, the sun went behind some newly arrived clouds and my fun in the sun was over.
I tried to avoid the concerned look of my neighboring sunbather as I quickly collected my belongings and retreated to my apartment for the evening.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Bulls-eye
I'm sitting here at my desk with my mouth hanging open and staring at one of the TVs in our lobby.
The reason for my shock?
A manager for the Sears Tower (my office location) has just said that the Sears Tower is no more a target than any other building in the city or the country.
Um, what?!?!?!
So, why did the FBI just arrest a bunch of hoodlums in Miami who were trying to concoct a plan to blow up my place of business??
Let me guess...These goofballs held a meeting in their Florida warehouse where they randomly pulled out a map of the US, closed their eyes, spun around a few times and blindly pointed to the Sears Tower?!?!?
Kind of a terrorist pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.
CNN just featured some high-level flunkee from the Sears Tower management office who stated that our security is the "best in the business." (You'd think he was running for office!)
This crack security team is the same group of folks who recently trashed a local restaurant's food cart when they tried to make a delivery in the building but doesn't bat an eye when my outsdoorsy colleagues carry in several highly flammable cooktops for camping.
I carry a backpack and a purse to work every morning. I usually place the backpack on the conveyor belt so that the security guard can scan it (if he's looking at the screen and not chatting with a coworker). THEY DON'T SCAN MY PURSE....EVER!
Yep, just gives you that warm and cozy feeling of safety, don't it???
The reason for my shock?
A manager for the Sears Tower (my office location) has just said that the Sears Tower is no more a target than any other building in the city or the country.
Um, what?!?!?!
So, why did the FBI just arrest a bunch of hoodlums in Miami who were trying to concoct a plan to blow up my place of business??
Let me guess...These goofballs held a meeting in their Florida warehouse where they randomly pulled out a map of the US, closed their eyes, spun around a few times and blindly pointed to the Sears Tower?!?!?
Kind of a terrorist pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.
CNN just featured some high-level flunkee from the Sears Tower management office who stated that our security is the "best in the business." (You'd think he was running for office!)
This crack security team is the same group of folks who recently trashed a local restaurant's food cart when they tried to make a delivery in the building but doesn't bat an eye when my outsdoorsy colleagues carry in several highly flammable cooktops for camping.
I carry a backpack and a purse to work every morning. I usually place the backpack on the conveyor belt so that the security guard can scan it (if he's looking at the screen and not chatting with a coworker). THEY DON'T SCAN MY PURSE....EVER!
Yep, just gives you that warm and cozy feeling of safety, don't it???
Monday, June 19, 2006
Crumbs to a starving person
"I'm glad you handled everything."
I had to hold onto the corner of a desk to keep from falling down when one of our bosses said this to me today, the first day of a local conference at which my company exhibits. This guy has been here for over two years, but is just NOW learning some of the many reasons that I am a valuable employee (any why our new CEO is thrilled that I still work here after eight years).
The Exhibitors' Handbook instructed participants to send all of their conference materials to a conference services company, located about an hour away in the far northwest suburbs.
Our company, however, is located about a mile from the conference site, a veritable hop, skip and a jump away.
I dutifully ignored the silly, unnecessarily expensive shipping instructions and sent our materials directly the show site via a local messenger service.
Why was this a stroke of genius?
1) shipping costs will be approximately one-third to one-quarter of those from the conference services company, and
2) our materials arrived on site in one complete shipment unlike one of our competitor's materials, which were somehow shipped to Milwaukee!!!
Music to my ears!
I had to hold onto the corner of a desk to keep from falling down when one of our bosses said this to me today, the first day of a local conference at which my company exhibits. This guy has been here for over two years, but is just NOW learning some of the many reasons that I am a valuable employee (any why our new CEO is thrilled that I still work here after eight years).
The Exhibitors' Handbook instructed participants to send all of their conference materials to a conference services company, located about an hour away in the far northwest suburbs.
Our company, however, is located about a mile from the conference site, a veritable hop, skip and a jump away.
I dutifully ignored the silly, unnecessarily expensive shipping instructions and sent our materials directly the show site via a local messenger service.
Why was this a stroke of genius?
1) shipping costs will be approximately one-third to one-quarter of those from the conference services company, and
2) our materials arrived on site in one complete shipment unlike one of our competitor's materials, which were somehow shipped to Milwaukee!!!
Music to my ears!
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Slow sports day
What's going on over at ESPN??? Since I work in an international company, we've been watching World Cup Soccer. Okay, the "foreigners" are watching and the Americans are enjoying a diversion from internet surfing.
First off, what the HELL, US team!?!?!? You guys looked like shit! Getting beat, 3-0 in the first round?!?!? We shoulda sent the Chicago Fire! I hear they're pretty good.
I left the televisions on ESPN after the soccer game (mostly because I was busy doing actual WORK, believe it or not!) and when I looked up, ESPN was broadcasting...get ready for this...CHAMPIONSHIP DOMINOES! No kidding! We didn't have the sound on, so I couldn't hear any of the commentary, but it appeared that the teams were made up of four black men.
Did R. Kelly finally get a new hobby?
First off, what the HELL, US team!?!?!? You guys looked like shit! Getting beat, 3-0 in the first round?!?!? We shoulda sent the Chicago Fire! I hear they're pretty good.
I left the televisions on ESPN after the soccer game (mostly because I was busy doing actual WORK, believe it or not!) and when I looked up, ESPN was broadcasting...get ready for this...CHAMPIONSHIP DOMINOES! No kidding! We didn't have the sound on, so I couldn't hear any of the commentary, but it appeared that the teams were made up of four black men.
Did R. Kelly finally get a new hobby?
15 seconds of fame, again
Yep, that's me you're seeing on our public television station in Chicago. According to one viewer/colleague in my office, I am now a celebrity.
Well, I don't know about that.
I think it was last year, I'm not sure. Anyway, I was standing in front of Wrigley Field before a Cubs game (rare occasion, I know) and some guy from Channel 11 came up to me and asked me if I wanted to do a station ID.
Those of you that know me know how shy I am. Wait, wait...I have to stop laughing so I can type this...
Anyway, I watch public television from time to time, so I knew what he was talking about when he asked about the station ID. They appear at the "top of the hour" and usually feature one or two Chicagoans doing whatever (selling hot dogs, delivering newspapers, waiting to buy Cubs tickets) who look at the camera and say, "Hi, I'm ..... You're watching Channel 11, WTTW Chicago" or something to that effect.
When my station ID started appearing last year, I was approached by random people who recognized me. It was pretty weird. The security guard from the building where I work saw the station ID, my aunt who was visiting from Florida saw it (and hence my mom), an ex-boyfriend saw it.
Wonder who will see me this year?
Well, I don't know about that.
I think it was last year, I'm not sure. Anyway, I was standing in front of Wrigley Field before a Cubs game (rare occasion, I know) and some guy from Channel 11 came up to me and asked me if I wanted to do a station ID.
Those of you that know me know how shy I am. Wait, wait...I have to stop laughing so I can type this...
Anyway, I watch public television from time to time, so I knew what he was talking about when he asked about the station ID. They appear at the "top of the hour" and usually feature one or two Chicagoans doing whatever (selling hot dogs, delivering newspapers, waiting to buy Cubs tickets) who look at the camera and say, "Hi, I'm ..... You're watching Channel 11, WTTW Chicago" or something to that effect.
When my station ID started appearing last year, I was approached by random people who recognized me. It was pretty weird. The security guard from the building where I work saw the station ID, my aunt who was visiting from Florida saw it (and hence my mom), an ex-boyfriend saw it.
Wonder who will see me this year?
Friday, June 09, 2006
Next!
It seems as though my social dance card is once again empty...or at least the pickings are VERY slim. Let's review:
The Announcer
After meeting him at a Cubs game several weeks ago and receiving an invitation to meet him in Milwaukee soon after, I never heard from him again. However, I had already purchased tickets to the Cubs/Nationals game in DC in July, so I'm weighing my options on whether or not to call him before I arrive in DC.
Status: Acquaintances, if that.
The Editor
Having met him for dinner, drinks and an unexpected goodnight kiss, I wasn't particularly surprised to find that he was looking for a date for an upcoming wedding. I have no interest in him as a friend much less as a potential date, so I politely declined the invitation.
Status: Dead in the water as far as I'm concerned.
Dancing Lawyer
He's been out of town the past few weekends, but he's managed to keep in touch via cell phone even when I was in St. Louis. If I could surgically remove several wonderful features of the Dancing Lawyer (good job, attentiveness, good manners) and insert them into an older, more sophisticated, more attractive, more wordly man - what a catch that would be!!!
Status: Terminal.
Flight Attendant
Quite possibly the worst would-be boyfriend (even if he didn't live out of town). Invited me to a Cubs game waaaayy in advance and then didn't contact me AT ALL until one hour (!) before said game! Uh, yeah, right! Since then, he's texted me a few times when he watching a Cubs game and he thinks I might be too. Too much work on my part for too little return. And he's not that cute.
Status: Not worth more than an occasional text, if that! DOA.
In light of this, I've decided to jump into summer with both feet and be EVERYWHERE! (Okay, even if Mother Nature isn't quite cooperating with her crappy 60s and 70s-ish weather!!!). So far, the activities include:
- a graduate school grad party tonight with FC2
- a day of volunteer service tomorrow (also with FC2) that should include painting and or planting stuff.
- bleacher seats for a Cubs night game on Wednesday.
- corporate outing at Arlington Park Racecourse in a few weeks.
- bar-b-q at Violet's place next week.
- volunteer bartending job for one night at a HUGE street festival in July.
- beach volleyball on Wednesday nights.
With all of that people-meeting, I hope my dance card won't be empty for long! Anybody wanna join me??
The Announcer
After meeting him at a Cubs game several weeks ago and receiving an invitation to meet him in Milwaukee soon after, I never heard from him again. However, I had already purchased tickets to the Cubs/Nationals game in DC in July, so I'm weighing my options on whether or not to call him before I arrive in DC.
Status: Acquaintances, if that.
The Editor
Having met him for dinner, drinks and an unexpected goodnight kiss, I wasn't particularly surprised to find that he was looking for a date for an upcoming wedding. I have no interest in him as a friend much less as a potential date, so I politely declined the invitation.
Status: Dead in the water as far as I'm concerned.
Dancing Lawyer
He's been out of town the past few weekends, but he's managed to keep in touch via cell phone even when I was in St. Louis. If I could surgically remove several wonderful features of the Dancing Lawyer (good job, attentiveness, good manners) and insert them into an older, more sophisticated, more attractive, more wordly man - what a catch that would be!!!
Status: Terminal.
Flight Attendant
Quite possibly the worst would-be boyfriend (even if he didn't live out of town). Invited me to a Cubs game waaaayy in advance and then didn't contact me AT ALL until one hour (!) before said game! Uh, yeah, right! Since then, he's texted me a few times when he watching a Cubs game and he thinks I might be too. Too much work on my part for too little return. And he's not that cute.
Status: Not worth more than an occasional text, if that! DOA.
In light of this, I've decided to jump into summer with both feet and be EVERYWHERE! (Okay, even if Mother Nature isn't quite cooperating with her crappy 60s and 70s-ish weather!!!). So far, the activities include:
- a graduate school grad party tonight with FC2
- a day of volunteer service tomorrow (also with FC2) that should include painting and or planting stuff.
- bleacher seats for a Cubs night game on Wednesday.
- corporate outing at Arlington Park Racecourse in a few weeks.
- bar-b-q at Violet's place next week.
- volunteer bartending job for one night at a HUGE street festival in July.
- beach volleyball on Wednesday nights.
With all of that people-meeting, I hope my dance card won't be empty for long! Anybody wanna join me??
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
In enemy territory without reinforcements
On a whim, I decided to roadtrip to St. Louis and support my Cubs in their efforts against the rat-bastard Cardinals. Keep in mind that my boys are languishing in fifth place while St. Louis sits atop the division.
Here is my weekend, by the numbers:
300 - number of miles between Chicago and St. Louis.
3.5 - number of hours it took me to get to St. Louis on Saturday morning
0 - number of speeding tickets received (whew!)
2 - number of games my Cubs took from the Cardinals (of a 3-game series YAY!)
4 - number of blocks from the new Busch Stadium my hotel was located
3 - number of drinks offered to me by locals
65 - age of first St. Louis man I met (investment banker who drives a pickup truck...seriously!)
5 - number of Chicago Cubs personnel I met while at dinner Saturday night (including Dusty Baker, Ryan Dempster, Glendon Rusch, Derrek Lee and Jacque Jones)
11 - time of evening that Dancing Lawyer called me after I texted him about Cubs encounter.
88 - dollars spent on each ticket in the elite section of the new Busch Stadium
7 - inning in which the supposedly "elite" food court closed!
69 - price of my hotel room (and a Radisson next to the Arch, no less!)
15.75 - dollars spent to buy a flame-baked pizza and a large beer at Busch
The look on closer Ryan Dempster's face when a young Cubs fan repeatedly called to him to get an autograph - - except that he called him "Kerry Wood!"
PRICELESS!
Here is my weekend, by the numbers:
300 - number of miles between Chicago and St. Louis.3.5 - number of hours it took me to get to St. Louis on Saturday morning
0 - number of speeding tickets received (whew!)
2 - number of games my Cubs took from the Cardinals (of a 3-game series YAY!)
4 - number of blocks from the new Busch Stadium my hotel was located
3 - number of drinks offered to me by locals
65 - age of first St. Louis man I met (investment banker who drives a pickup truck...seriously!)
5 - number of Chicago Cubs personnel I met while at dinner Saturday night (including Dusty Baker, Ryan Dempster, Glendon Rusch, Derrek Lee and Jacque Jones)
11 - time of evening that Dancing Lawyer called me after I texted him about Cubs encounter.
88 - dollars spent on each ticket in the elite section of the new Busch Stadium
7 - inning in which the supposedly "elite" food court closed!
69 - price of my hotel room (and a Radisson next to the Arch, no less!)
15.75 - dollars spent to buy a flame-baked pizza and a large beer at Busch
The look on closer Ryan Dempster's face when a young Cubs fan repeatedly called to him to get an autograph - - except that he called him "Kerry Wood!"
PRICELESS!
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
What.do.you.want?
Looking back on my "date" with The Editor, I don't think I mentioned that I came right out and asked him why he contacted me. Honestly, I didn't give a rat's ass about how the evening ended and if I was being abrupt. I mean JEEZ! we hadn't seen each other in over six years!
His answer?
"Well, I was thinking about you and when that basketball tournament came up, I knew you'd be interested in helping out."
NOT!!!
After the kiss, I knew the out-of-the-blue call had nothing to do with some shitty basketball tournament. But it gets better.
Friday: we met for drinks and dinner.
Saturday: email from The Editor thanking me for meeting him and saying he'll call me soon.
WHY???
On Monday, the other shoe finally dropped. The Editor sent me another email, asking me if I'd be interested in going to a wedding with him in June.
A HA!!
How do I nicely say, "not a chance in hell!"?
His answer?
"Well, I was thinking about you and when that basketball tournament came up, I knew you'd be interested in helping out."
NOT!!!
After the kiss, I knew the out-of-the-blue call had nothing to do with some shitty basketball tournament. But it gets better.
Friday: we met for drinks and dinner.
Saturday: email from The Editor thanking me for meeting him and saying he'll call me soon.
WHY???
On Monday, the other shoe finally dropped. The Editor sent me another email, asking me if I'd be interested in going to a wedding with him in June.
A HA!!
How do I nicely say, "not a chance in hell!"?
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Life Lessons I Learned from Baseball
1. Although you are ultimately responsible only for your own behavior, you will attain greater success if you work well with others.
2. Patience pays off.
3. Sometimes you have to make a small sacrifice for the greater good.
4. Don't make other people feel bad about their failure even when you succeed.
5. Try your hardest all the time and your efforts will eventually be rewarded.
6. Listen to your body's needs. If you're hurt, don't push it.
7. Use the right equipment for your job.
8. If you are fortunate enough to have a veteran near you, ask them questions and then LISTEN!
9. Sometimes you have to take risks to reap big benefits.
10. Flash can lead to fame, but consistency leads to longevity.
2. Patience pays off.
3. Sometimes you have to make a small sacrifice for the greater good.
4. Don't make other people feel bad about their failure even when you succeed.
5. Try your hardest all the time and your efforts will eventually be rewarded.
6. Listen to your body's needs. If you're hurt, don't push it.
7. Use the right equipment for your job.
8. If you are fortunate enough to have a veteran near you, ask them questions and then LISTEN!
9. Sometimes you have to take risks to reap big benefits.
10. Flash can lead to fame, but consistency leads to longevity.
Drinks with The Editor
So The Editor and I made plans to meet at a downtown bar after work Friday. He was driving from the far south suburbs and I was taking the "L" from the other side of downtown, so I wasn't surprised when I didn't see him when I walked in.
Since it was a beautifully warm afternoon, I raced up to the bar's rooftop deck when I arrived at 5-ish. The plan was to meet at 5:15-5:30, so I grabbed a quick beer and found a spot at a table. The Editor and I worked together for seven years in the sports department of a south suburban newspaper, but I hadn't seen him in about that many years.
Okay, this might sound bad, but I really didn't care if I saw The Editor or not. We were business friends* years ago, but not having him in my life in the past six or seven years hasn't exactly left a gaping hole. I admit to an itty-bitty amount of curiosity about his re-appearance in my life, but I certainly wouldn't die if I didn't find out.
So 5:15 passes and no Editor. 5:30 comes and goes. It's now 5:45 and I'm thinking that he should call if he's stuck in traffic or lost, so I call his cell phone.
He's downstairs at the bar and has been for over an hour! Says he'll finish his beer and be up in a little while.
Not surprisingly, he looks the same, but older. We have the type of conversation that you'd expect: reminiscing about people from the newsroom, sharing bits of updated info about our lives, wondering aloud about former colleagues with whom we've lost touch.
We decided to go downstairs and get some food, which The Editor ended up paying for. I was irritated because I had planned on paying my part (as friends do).
He said, "You can get the next one."
Um, what?
Leaving the restaurant, The Editor offered a ride home, but I preferred to take the "L" and end the evening soon. We hugged and then I found myself on the unavoidable end of a kiss!
So there it was, Date #4 whether I wanted it or not.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* Business friends - - people with whom you have a temporary friendship because you work together. You probably wouldn't be friends without the work relationship.
Since it was a beautifully warm afternoon, I raced up to the bar's rooftop deck when I arrived at 5-ish. The plan was to meet at 5:15-5:30, so I grabbed a quick beer and found a spot at a table. The Editor and I worked together for seven years in the sports department of a south suburban newspaper, but I hadn't seen him in about that many years.
Okay, this might sound bad, but I really didn't care if I saw The Editor or not. We were business friends* years ago, but not having him in my life in the past six or seven years hasn't exactly left a gaping hole. I admit to an itty-bitty amount of curiosity about his re-appearance in my life, but I certainly wouldn't die if I didn't find out.
So 5:15 passes and no Editor. 5:30 comes and goes. It's now 5:45 and I'm thinking that he should call if he's stuck in traffic or lost, so I call his cell phone.
He's downstairs at the bar and has been for over an hour! Says he'll finish his beer and be up in a little while.
Not surprisingly, he looks the same, but older. We have the type of conversation that you'd expect: reminiscing about people from the newsroom, sharing bits of updated info about our lives, wondering aloud about former colleagues with whom we've lost touch.
We decided to go downstairs and get some food, which The Editor ended up paying for. I was irritated because I had planned on paying my part (as friends do).
He said, "You can get the next one."
Um, what?
Leaving the restaurant, The Editor offered a ride home, but I preferred to take the "L" and end the evening soon. We hugged and then I found myself on the unavoidable end of a kiss!
So there it was, Date #4 whether I wanted it or not.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* Business friends - - people with whom you have a temporary friendship because you work together. You probably wouldn't be friends without the work relationship.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Reaching out
Not sure why, but I responded to the email from The Editor and made plans to meet him at an outdoor watering hole tonight after work. He originally wanted to know if I had any plans to be in his neighborhood (since I haven't been in his neighborhood in at least 10 years, I'd say no!)
Anyhoo, The Editor and I worked together about 10 years ago in the sports department of a medium-sized newspaper in the south suburbs. It was a pretty small department, probably seven or eight of us and we often hung out together, despite the fact that I was the only woman on the staff. There is one other fellow sportswriter that I see probably every year or two, but that's it for "keeping in touch."
I've moved on from that life (pretty far removed, I think), so I'm pretty curious as to why he contacted me. Unless his life has dramatically changed, he still lives in the same house, is friends with the same people and works with many of the same individuals that he has for the past, oh, 20 years or so!
He's never been married, never had kids, never traveled outside the US and probably never eaten anything more exotic than tacos.
What does he want with me?
Anyhoo, The Editor and I worked together about 10 years ago in the sports department of a medium-sized newspaper in the south suburbs. It was a pretty small department, probably seven or eight of us and we often hung out together, despite the fact that I was the only woman on the staff. There is one other fellow sportswriter that I see probably every year or two, but that's it for "keeping in touch."
I've moved on from that life (pretty far removed, I think), so I'm pretty curious as to why he contacted me. Unless his life has dramatically changed, he still lives in the same house, is friends with the same people and works with many of the same individuals that he has for the past, oh, 20 years or so!
He's never been married, never had kids, never traveled outside the US and probably never eaten anything more exotic than tacos.
What does he want with me?
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Plan B
In an uncharacteristically disciplined move, I managed to plan and execute a three-day-a-week workout for a whole six months! The result?
Zilch! Absolutely no weight loss and no inches lost. I know they say "you're clothes will fit better." Bullshit! WTF?!?!
Those readers that actually know me in person know that I'm not fat. Far from it. I realize that, but I also know that in the last five years, I've gained a total of 15 pounds. I hadn't gained that much in the previous 15 years combined! When you're small, 15 pounds is like tying a pillow around your ass and trying to slip on a knit skirt over it.
Anyway, I've decided to go to Plan B.
Food is one of my favorite four-letter words, so Plan B might be tough to implement, but I'm going to give it a try...for two weeks. During this time, I will eat no white bread and no sugar. I didn't read this diet recipe in a book or hear about it on Oprah. It's just something I thought I'd try. To see if it makes a difference.
If, after two weeks, I see a difference, maybe I'll continue with it. We'll see.
We're talking no hot dogs, pizza or pretzels at Wrigley Field and no candy or ice cream after lunch at work. This is going to be hard work!
But here's the thing: It's "shorts" season and I'm getting tired of looking down and seeing jello!
Considering I have a bagel for breakfast almost every day and chocolate at least twice a week, you can see that I will have a problem with this. Do you realize how hard it is to avoid white bread when the lunch options in the city revolve around burgers, pizza and sandwiches??
So I am asking you, my lovely, no-doubt healthier-eating readers, to help me plan some meals. Please keep in mind that one cup of fruit in the morning will NOT keep me going until lunchtime!
My ass, abs and thighs thank you!
Zilch! Absolutely no weight loss and no inches lost. I know they say "you're clothes will fit better." Bullshit! WTF?!?!
Those readers that actually know me in person know that I'm not fat. Far from it. I realize that, but I also know that in the last five years, I've gained a total of 15 pounds. I hadn't gained that much in the previous 15 years combined! When you're small, 15 pounds is like tying a pillow around your ass and trying to slip on a knit skirt over it.
Anyway, I've decided to go to Plan B.
Food is one of my favorite four-letter words, so Plan B might be tough to implement, but I'm going to give it a try...for two weeks. During this time, I will eat no white bread and no sugar. I didn't read this diet recipe in a book or hear about it on Oprah. It's just something I thought I'd try. To see if it makes a difference.
If, after two weeks, I see a difference, maybe I'll continue with it. We'll see.
We're talking no hot dogs, pizza or pretzels at Wrigley Field and no candy or ice cream after lunch at work. This is going to be hard work!
But here's the thing: It's "shorts" season and I'm getting tired of looking down and seeing jello!
Considering I have a bagel for breakfast almost every day and chocolate at least twice a week, you can see that I will have a problem with this. Do you realize how hard it is to avoid white bread when the lunch options in the city revolve around burgers, pizza and sandwiches??
So I am asking you, my lovely, no-doubt healthier-eating readers, to help me plan some meals. Please keep in mind that one cup of fruit in the morning will NOT keep me going until lunchtime!
My ass, abs and thighs thank you!
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Dating 101
So there I am last night, watching my beloved Cubs get their asses kicked by the God-forsaken Florida Marlins when my cell phone rings.
It's the Dancing Lawyer.
Honestly! I think he must've read "See Dick Date" or maybe "Dating for Dummies" because he's been incredibly by-the-book this whole time. For example,
1) he called me mid-week to plan a weekend date,
2) he selected a good restaurant (not too cheap/pricey/far away/strange food),
3) he did not keep me out ridiculously late on our date, and
4) he called me on Monday to say "hello" and see if I enjoyed the rest of my weekend.
Geez!
In a weird twist of cell phone fate, DL called just as I was busy answering a text from Flight Attendant. He sent a txt telling me that he was attending the aforementioned Cubs game, where he was sitting and what he was wearing. (No, I didn't spot him on TV.)
Can I get a show of hands to see who thought I would hear from FA again after our Cubs-game-date debacle?
Curiously enough, I think FA might invite me to another Cubs game. As I was deleting old text messages from him, I found one from a few weeks ago where he lists the games he will see in Chicago - - including games this Saturday and Sunday. We'll see if I get an invitation with more than an hour or so to spare.
I mean, seriously, didn't he read the book?
It's the Dancing Lawyer.
Honestly! I think he must've read "See Dick Date" or maybe "Dating for Dummies" because he's been incredibly by-the-book this whole time. For example,
1) he called me mid-week to plan a weekend date,
2) he selected a good restaurant (not too cheap/pricey/far away/strange food),
3) he did not keep me out ridiculously late on our date, and
4) he called me on Monday to say "hello" and see if I enjoyed the rest of my weekend.
Geez!
In a weird twist of cell phone fate, DL called just as I was busy answering a text from Flight Attendant. He sent a txt telling me that he was attending the aforementioned Cubs game, where he was sitting and what he was wearing. (No, I didn't spot him on TV.)
Can I get a show of hands to see who thought I would hear from FA again after our Cubs-game-date debacle?
Curiously enough, I think FA might invite me to another Cubs game. As I was deleting old text messages from him, I found one from a few weeks ago where he lists the games he will see in Chicago - - including games this Saturday and Sunday. We'll see if I get an invitation with more than an hour or so to spare.
I mean, seriously, didn't he read the book?
Monday, May 22, 2006
Song of my life
I went on a dinner date with Dancing Lawyer on Saturday night. We dined at a cute little family-owned Italian restaurant, a safe choice for a first date.
I don't know why I bothered to convene the wardrobe congress to decide my attire when Dancing Lawyer arrived dressed as though he just crawled out of bed: jeans, an unironed and untucked white dress shirt with the cuffs rolled over and the neck unbuttoned to display a white undershirt.
On the evening that we met, DL's hair situation was a mystery since he wore a baseball cap (backwards) all evening. This night, however, the thin blond coif was gelled into a stunted rhino horn. Add to that the slight goatee and he seemed to be quite...pointed. If his hair had been dark, he would've made a great Satan.
In a surprisingly thoughtful move, DL remembered part of our initial conversation and asked me about a situation at my office. I jumped in with what I hoped was an interesting (and not too long) story of international business. He bounced back with his own company's travails and the evening's conversation volleyed back and forth at a good pace.
He spoke of planning a trip with his brother. I REALLY didn't want to hit the "how old are you?" button, so I sidestepped it with "just one brother? older or younger?"
His older brother is 30!
I forced a forkful of gnocchi in my mouth (since it was already hanging open) and tried to think of a new topic - quick!
By dinner's end, I had decided that my new social strategy will include dating in bulk: if I can't get quality, go for quantity.
Stopping in the ladies room while DL paid the bill, I froze in my tracks when a line from the recorded background music hit my ears.
"They're all either too young or too old."
I don't know why I bothered to convene the wardrobe congress to decide my attire when Dancing Lawyer arrived dressed as though he just crawled out of bed: jeans, an unironed and untucked white dress shirt with the cuffs rolled over and the neck unbuttoned to display a white undershirt.
On the evening that we met, DL's hair situation was a mystery since he wore a baseball cap (backwards) all evening. This night, however, the thin blond coif was gelled into a stunted rhino horn. Add to that the slight goatee and he seemed to be quite...pointed. If his hair had been dark, he would've made a great Satan.
In a surprisingly thoughtful move, DL remembered part of our initial conversation and asked me about a situation at my office. I jumped in with what I hoped was an interesting (and not too long) story of international business. He bounced back with his own company's travails and the evening's conversation volleyed back and forth at a good pace.
He spoke of planning a trip with his brother. I REALLY didn't want to hit the "how old are you?" button, so I sidestepped it with "just one brother? older or younger?"
His older brother is 30!
I forced a forkful of gnocchi in my mouth (since it was already hanging open) and tried to think of a new topic - quick!
By dinner's end, I had decided that my new social strategy will include dating in bulk: if I can't get quality, go for quantity.
Stopping in the ladies room while DL paid the bill, I froze in my tracks when a line from the recorded background music hit my ears.
"They're all either too young or too old."
Friday, May 19, 2006
Another station heard from
I get a lot of spam. Okay, everybody gets lots of spam. Usually, I just delete it without opening it, but today something seemed familair about one email although I didn't recognize the sender's name.
So I opened it.
"Hey Writer,
It was nice getting to catch up with you a little bit over the weekend. This week's a bit busy with volleyball and softball, but maybe we can get together next Friday. Let me know what works for you.
The Editor"
Okay, so it wasn't really signed "The Editor" but you know how things work on the Internet (protecting privacy and all that).
Trouble was, I sat there thinking, "Who is the Editor?" Did I meet somebody by that name while out with FC2? At a Cubs game maybe?
I racked my brain for an answer.
The Editor? The Editor? Who is this guy?
Well, let's see: there's FA, Lion King, Cub Fan, the Announcer, Dancing Lawyer...jeez! did somebody dip me in pheromones while I was sleeping or what??
So I opened it.
"Hey Writer,
It was nice getting to catch up with you a little bit over the weekend. This week's a bit busy with volleyball and softball, but maybe we can get together next Friday. Let me know what works for you.
The Editor"
Okay, so it wasn't really signed "The Editor" but you know how things work on the Internet (protecting privacy and all that).
Trouble was, I sat there thinking, "Who is the Editor?" Did I meet somebody by that name while out with FC2? At a Cubs game maybe?
I racked my brain for an answer.
The Editor? The Editor? Who is this guy?
Well, let's see: there's FA, Lion King, Cub Fan, the Announcer, Dancing Lawyer...jeez! did somebody dip me in pheromones while I was sleeping or what??
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Life, love and the infield fly rule
Luck. Chance. Fate. Or for the really melodramatic among us- destiny. Do we have any takers? Does anybody really believe in this stuff or are the chapters of our lives full of random occurrences?
I don't know, but today seemed to have the full rollercoaster of ups and downs, luck-wise.
As you probably remember, I was supposed to attend Wednesday night's Cubs game with FA, but he was a no-show...or so I thought when I accepted Announcer's offer of a free ticket and a few drinks after the game.
Gametime: 7:05. My cell phone rang Wednesday evening at 6 pm. It was a text message from FA. He had just landed in the crummy, rainy weather and would contact me when he got closer. I started to fume about his last-minute check-in, but then I realized that I already had fabulous plans for the evening. The "nice person" in me decided that if I contacted FA quickly, he could offer his other ticket to a coworker, so I texted back.
"No word from you, so I made other plans. Sorry."
His reply.
"I wasn't home all week. My fault."
Pretty lame excuse for someone that travels for a living and loves to communicate via text message!
Anyway, I went to the game and Announcer left a very good ticket for me. He called me from the booth just before the game started and we made plans to meet after the game (which the Cubs won!!)
Oh, and before the game started, I checked my phone and saw that I missed a call from the Dancing Lawyer. I met him last week when FC2 and I went out for a stroll down Clark Street. Nice guy, good conversation, but two problems: 1) too young, and, 2) not physically attractive to me. But I decided I could always go out with him at least once. You never know.
But I digress...
Dinner plans fell through when the game ran late, so Announcer and I grabbed a snack and some drinks nearby. I had almost forgotten that he's pretty well known in Chicago (even on the North Side), so I was almost surprised and a bit annoyed when a few other sports fan interrupted our conversation throughout the evening.
Announcer suggested I drive up to Milwaukee to see his team play in a few weeks, even offering me a team schedule, so I didn't forget. Oh, in case I haven't mentioned it before, nothing physical has happened...at least nothing more than a hug and a kiss on the cheek. And he took my arm when we left the ballpark. It's all very casual, which is good.
Today (Thursday) I took a "personal day" off from work. Okay, so I took a day off to see Kerry Wood in his first game since last year. I'm a big baseball fan, sue me!
I couldn't reach Announcer to tell him I would be there (although I'm pretty sure I mentioned it earlier). But after winning a replica 1955 Jackie Robinson Dodgers Jersey in a scratch-off drawing, I was excited to tell somebody, but I couldn't find anyone!!!
So I sent a text to FA.
He texted back to congratulate me and said he was in Aisle 34 (about six sections over from me). Did he ask where I was sitting?
No.
Did he suggest we meet up after the game?
No.
Did he tell me when he'll be in town next?
No.
Yep, NEXT!
I had left a message earlier for Announcer and, in my excitement from winning the jersey, tried to call him a second time. Oooh, cardinal sin! Two messages from one woman in less than two hours! How needy!
Needless to say, I wasn't going to call him.
Here's where fate/luck/destiny jumps in. I was leaving the ballpark pretty late (as usual) and I stopped in the ladies room near the bleachers. I had planned to take the Red Line home and that's the closest exit. Upon leaving the loo, who do I run into? Announcer!
He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and said he was going to call me but he didn't have any signal. We chatted for about 15 minutes and he reminded me about the Milwaukee games. I showed him the jersey and he was very impressed. He said he'd call me before the Milwaukee series, gave me a hug and another kiss on the cheek and boarded the team bus for the airport.
So, friends and neighbors, here's the scorecard as it stands now:
FA - a goner unless some amazingly gutsy/thoughtful/romantic steps are taken on his part.
Announcer- still in friends stage, I think. Don't know if anything will ever develop. Not sure if I want it to considering the age difference and geography.
Dancing Lawyer - date planned for Saturday night. We'll see.
I don't know, but today seemed to have the full rollercoaster of ups and downs, luck-wise.
As you probably remember, I was supposed to attend Wednesday night's Cubs game with FA, but he was a no-show...or so I thought when I accepted Announcer's offer of a free ticket and a few drinks after the game.
Gametime: 7:05. My cell phone rang Wednesday evening at 6 pm. It was a text message from FA. He had just landed in the crummy, rainy weather and would contact me when he got closer. I started to fume about his last-minute check-in, but then I realized that I already had fabulous plans for the evening. The "nice person" in me decided that if I contacted FA quickly, he could offer his other ticket to a coworker, so I texted back.
"No word from you, so I made other plans. Sorry."
His reply.
"I wasn't home all week. My fault."
Pretty lame excuse for someone that travels for a living and loves to communicate via text message!
Anyway, I went to the game and Announcer left a very good ticket for me. He called me from the booth just before the game started and we made plans to meet after the game (which the Cubs won!!)
Oh, and before the game started, I checked my phone and saw that I missed a call from the Dancing Lawyer. I met him last week when FC2 and I went out for a stroll down Clark Street. Nice guy, good conversation, but two problems: 1) too young, and, 2) not physically attractive to me. But I decided I could always go out with him at least once. You never know.
But I digress...
Dinner plans fell through when the game ran late, so Announcer and I grabbed a snack and some drinks nearby. I had almost forgotten that he's pretty well known in Chicago (even on the North Side), so I was almost surprised and a bit annoyed when a few other sports fan interrupted our conversation throughout the evening.
Announcer suggested I drive up to Milwaukee to see his team play in a few weeks, even offering me a team schedule, so I didn't forget. Oh, in case I haven't mentioned it before, nothing physical has happened...at least nothing more than a hug and a kiss on the cheek. And he took my arm when we left the ballpark. It's all very casual, which is good.
Today (Thursday) I took a "personal day" off from work. Okay, so I took a day off to see Kerry Wood in his first game since last year. I'm a big baseball fan, sue me!
I couldn't reach Announcer to tell him I would be there (although I'm pretty sure I mentioned it earlier). But after winning a replica 1955 Jackie Robinson Dodgers Jersey in a scratch-off drawing, I was excited to tell somebody, but I couldn't find anyone!!!
So I sent a text to FA.
He texted back to congratulate me and said he was in Aisle 34 (about six sections over from me). Did he ask where I was sitting?
No.
Did he suggest we meet up after the game?
No.
Did he tell me when he'll be in town next?
No.
Yep, NEXT!
I had left a message earlier for Announcer and, in my excitement from winning the jersey, tried to call him a second time. Oooh, cardinal sin! Two messages from one woman in less than two hours! How needy!
Needless to say, I wasn't going to call him.
Here's where fate/luck/destiny jumps in. I was leaving the ballpark pretty late (as usual) and I stopped in the ladies room near the bleachers. I had planned to take the Red Line home and that's the closest exit. Upon leaving the loo, who do I run into? Announcer!
He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and said he was going to call me but he didn't have any signal. We chatted for about 15 minutes and he reminded me about the Milwaukee games. I showed him the jersey and he was very impressed. He said he'd call me before the Milwaukee series, gave me a hug and another kiss on the cheek and boarded the team bus for the airport.
So, friends and neighbors, here's the scorecard as it stands now:
FA - a goner unless some amazingly gutsy/thoughtful/romantic steps are taken on his part.
Announcer- still in friends stage, I think. Don't know if anything will ever develop. Not sure if I want it to considering the age difference and geography.
Dancing Lawyer - date planned for Saturday night. We'll see.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Pinch-hitter
The Cubs game starts in 6 hours and I have heard NOTHING from FA regarding our plan to attend the game together. Am I upset?
Actually, no. For two reasons:
1) since FA lives in Florida, had a number of little-boy-in-grown-man's-body issues, and wasn't all that cute anyway, the boyfriend possibility was minimal, and
2) not one, but TWO guys offered to leave me a free ticket if I want to come to tonight's game!
Okay, don't get too excited about #2 because one of them is a Cubs security guy (married) and the other one is an announcer for the Washington Nationals (not sure on the married thing, but he's considerably older than me).
A little background...Firecracker, FC2, Golden Girl and I attended last night's game and had a little early celebration for FC2's birthday. After the Cubs won (yay!! it's about time!!), all of us except Firecracker went over to one of the local watering holes.
When we arrived, I ran into a sportswriter friend of mine that covers the Cubs. We chatted for a bit and then he disappeared into the crowd. About 20 minutes later, I got the feeling that I should go and find him again. When I did, he was talking to the Announcer and was kind enough to introduce me.
Announcer offered to leave me a ticket for tonight's game and in doing so, gave me his cell phone number and told me where he's staying and his room number. Oh, did I mention that he used to be a professional baseball player?
Yep, it was an interesting evening. Wonder what tonight will bring?
Actually, no. For two reasons:
1) since FA lives in Florida, had a number of little-boy-in-grown-man's-body issues, and wasn't all that cute anyway, the boyfriend possibility was minimal, and
2) not one, but TWO guys offered to leave me a free ticket if I want to come to tonight's game!
Okay, don't get too excited about #2 because one of them is a Cubs security guy (married) and the other one is an announcer for the Washington Nationals (not sure on the married thing, but he's considerably older than me).
A little background...Firecracker, FC2, Golden Girl and I attended last night's game and had a little early celebration for FC2's birthday. After the Cubs won (yay!! it's about time!!), all of us except Firecracker went over to one of the local watering holes.
When we arrived, I ran into a sportswriter friend of mine that covers the Cubs. We chatted for a bit and then he disappeared into the crowd. About 20 minutes later, I got the feeling that I should go and find him again. When I did, he was talking to the Announcer and was kind enough to introduce me.
Announcer offered to leave me a ticket for tonight's game and in doing so, gave me his cell phone number and told me where he's staying and his room number. Oh, did I mention that he used to be a professional baseball player?
Yep, it was an interesting evening. Wonder what tonight will bring?
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Keeping the door open
A few years back, I dated a guy who got angry when he discovered that I was still listed on the online dating service Match.com while we were dating. He was really mad, or maybe he was hurt, I don't know, but he wanted me to de-activate my profile. Whatever.
I never expected to find "my soulmate" on Match, so it didn't really matter to me that my profile was still active. Before you start to wonder, no! I'm not active on Match.com anymore.
Anyway, I was really bored at home the other night, so I thought I'd see if the Match.com talent pool was as shallow now as it was then. Surprisingly enough, my specifc search turned up quite a few attractive men. And then I came across one that I recognized. It took a few minutes, but I realized that the guy lives down the hall from me...with his girlfriend and her daughter!
Wonder if she'd be as angry as my boyfriend was?
I never expected to find "my soulmate" on Match, so it didn't really matter to me that my profile was still active. Before you start to wonder, no! I'm not active on Match.com anymore.
Anyway, I was really bored at home the other night, so I thought I'd see if the Match.com talent pool was as shallow now as it was then. Surprisingly enough, my specifc search turned up quite a few attractive men. And then I came across one that I recognized. It took a few minutes, but I realized that the guy lives down the hall from me...with his girlfriend and her daughter!
Wonder if she'd be as angry as my boyfriend was?
Monday, May 15, 2006
To date or not to date?
Well, it's been two weeks since I last heard from FA and we're supposed to go to the Cubs game this Wednesday evening.
Let's take a poll: who thinks I'll have a date for the game Wednesday?
Let's take a poll: who thinks I'll have a date for the game Wednesday?
Goodbye Auntie Mame
I've often felt that I was born at the wrong time. I can (and usually do) sing along to the music of Frank Sinatra and Glenn Miller, but couldn't even name one song by Brittney Spears or Jennifer Lopez.
I was born too late to know Rosemary in her heyday. I'm at the tail end of a large family with several generations mixed in, so we tend to confuse the specifics of who's related and who's not. I think Rosemary was my father's cousin (or maybe her husband Chuck was, I don't know).
My extended family holds two reunions per year- - one in the summer and one just after Thanksgiving. They've done this for years and we have the black-and-white home movies to prove it. Rosemary and Chuck used to entertain at the winter reunion. No, they weren't professionals, but they were good. He played a grand piano and she, a statuesque blond, sang showtunes from atop the piano.
She was the only woman I've ever known who smoked a cigarette at the end of a long holder and she did it with style. Okay, she did everything with style, but maybe that was just my view as an impressionable grade schooler.
I used to imagine the wonderfully exotic life they lived. Traveling all over the world, dining at amazing restaurants, meeting important people from all walks of life. Actually, I don't know if any of this ever happened because I was too young to know anything about them except that they were family.
Rosemary loved sports. Actually, she had asked her kids to tell her what channel the game was on just the night before the heart attack hit. She was putting on her makeup, blotting her lipstick the way classy women of a certain ago do.
And then she was gone.
It's such a small part of my childhood from so many years ago, but for some reason, I know I'll miss her.
I was born too late to know Rosemary in her heyday. I'm at the tail end of a large family with several generations mixed in, so we tend to confuse the specifics of who's related and who's not. I think Rosemary was my father's cousin (or maybe her husband Chuck was, I don't know).
My extended family holds two reunions per year- - one in the summer and one just after Thanksgiving. They've done this for years and we have the black-and-white home movies to prove it. Rosemary and Chuck used to entertain at the winter reunion. No, they weren't professionals, but they were good. He played a grand piano and she, a statuesque blond, sang showtunes from atop the piano.
She was the only woman I've ever known who smoked a cigarette at the end of a long holder and she did it with style. Okay, she did everything with style, but maybe that was just my view as an impressionable grade schooler.
I used to imagine the wonderfully exotic life they lived. Traveling all over the world, dining at amazing restaurants, meeting important people from all walks of life. Actually, I don't know if any of this ever happened because I was too young to know anything about them except that they were family.
Rosemary loved sports. Actually, she had asked her kids to tell her what channel the game was on just the night before the heart attack hit. She was putting on her makeup, blotting her lipstick the way classy women of a certain ago do.
And then she was gone.
It's such a small part of my childhood from so many years ago, but for some reason, I know I'll miss her.
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