Pirate Papa.

My dad's birthday is tomorrow.  Since the USPS is rather unpredictable on making the trip from Chicago to Colorado, I always try to mail any cards a week in advance.  This time, that meant that it got there a few days early, which was perfect as my family held my dad's birthday dinner early rather than on the actual day. I try to find unusual cards generally speaking but was particularly pleased with my find for this year: it was a pirate hat, complete with eye patch and parrot.  On the card, I told my dad that I fully expected him to be wearing the hat while eating his birthday cake -- no arrrrrrrrrg-uments accepted.

My dad is nothing if not a good sport when it comes to silly requests from me:

There you have it -- the western pirate look.  I actually think he is rocking it.  Maybe he was a pirate in a past life.

Goodie Bag.

I love me a goodie bag.  Usually, they are filled with sample sizes of things I don't ever intend to use.  Doesn't make me love them any less.  I don't think I'm alone in this -- free.99 is a pretty awesome price.

Last week I attended the launch of a restaurant in the Loop called Vapiano.  I learned that it is the 133rd location of this predominantly European chain.  It was a super fun event.  Great DJ, fun people, the servers and kitchen staff came out at one point to show off their pre-opening dance routines (they have a dance party every morning), and they were really pushing the food and drink.  In my experience, you usually leave a restaurant opening hungry.  Not this time.  Full bowls of pasta for everyone.  If you liked your slice of pizza, they brought you a whole pizza the next time they came by.  In addition to people pouring wine, there were just bottles everywhere for self-help.  Pretty incredible display of free.99.

But, the best part for me was the goodie bag:

Yup, a rosemary and  a basil plant.  Technically, it was supposed to be one or the other, but we are friends with the girl who was doing the PR for the party and she relieved us from having to make the tough choice between the wonderful basil but hardier rosemary.

Hump Day.

Don't judge me but this commercial makes me happier than a camel on Wednesday.

Guess what day it is.

Twins.

It was bound to happen.

M and I live in the same building and work in the same building.  We have a similar aesthetic in clothes and homes (obviously).  She is more stylish than me but we share a similar sense of the basics.  And, a love for the Banana.

Tonight was the triumphant return of Taco Tuesday. The first time in a couple months.  Neither of us had seen each other during the day nor have we shopped together, or talked shopping, in awhile.  So, when I saw her through the door as we were going to meet to talk to dinner, I burst out laughing.

We were wearing the same dress.  Styled differently but for both of us it was the inaugural wearing of a Banana dress that we both had used a 40% off coupon to get.

Honestly, I'm surprised it hasn't happened earlier as we have owned the same piece of clothing at the same time previously.  We both thought it was funny so we went to dinner as twins.  We had one delighted restaurant owner and one drunk guy who were both amused and fascinated by the matching dresses.  I like the dress.  I like it on her.  And, I think it is funny on both of us.

Win, win, win.

Better Late Than Never, Summer.

It has been a long, slow climb toward summer here this year.  Every time the weather would flirt with the idea of acting like summer, a big storm system would come through and knock it back down.  Which is why it took over three weeks since the pool opened for me to go for my inaugural visit as a member.

Yesterday was not exactly a perfect pool day but it was close enough: passing clouds, kind of breezy and about 80 when the sun was not obscured.  M had a free hour so we packed up our towels, pulled out the sunblock, grabbed our books and we were off to the pool.  Despite it not being quite a pool day, it seemed like A LOT of people had the same idea as us about ripping off the summer band-aid as the place was pretty packed.

It was really quite delightful.  I was there only about an hour but that was long enough for my pale skin to get a light pinking.  It was funny to watch the little kids do little kid things.  I had to ask M what we did in the pre-noodle days  because I honestly couldn't remember.  I know we didn't have noodles when we were kids but it seemed like everyone -- both kids and adults -- were using them.  Her response: we actually swam.  Oh, right.  Shark and minnows.  Marco polo.  Ring diving.

Good times.

Planting Day!

Today was finally planting day!  We had thought about making our annual trip up to Andersonville three weeks ago but I was out of town.  We were then going to go during Memorial weekend but circumstances combined to make that impractical.  So, while slightly belated compared to years past, on June 1, we have our flowers.

Even though we knew that it would likely be fairly busy at the flower place, we decided to stick without our usual morning workouts and then go, rather than go first thing in the morning like we did last year.  As we learned then, it doesn't change how busy the place is and then we don't get our ice cream cone because 10:00 am is just too early for ice cream.

This is our fourth year (surprisingly to me) and we have finally got it figured out.  It took us longer to get there -- and get a space in the parking lot -- than it took us to select our flowers and checkout.  Two and a half flats of impatiens plus half a flat of assorted other stuff plus one large bag of potting soil equals a fully planted balcony.  And, that is the only arithmetic I need to do today.

And, while it took two tries, we got our delicious McDonald's vanilla cones this year.  The girl working the drive through was markedly less enthusiastic than we were about them but I'm sure that's because she wasn't getting to enjoy the tasty goodness.

Baby Steps.

For some reason, I remember very clearly the day that I was first able to run a 5K straight through.  I had to check the date -- Tuesday, March 5, 2013 -- but I remember the day.  It was a gray, snowy, morning as I stared at that damn treadmill, willing it to reach 3.1 miles before I quit.  

Given how poor my memory is, the fact that I remember it shows that it must have been a significant accomplishment to me.  Which I find interesting now, as somehow, running a 5K has become relatively easy.  Once I get past that first three-quarters of a mile, of course.  That bit is always hard.  In fact, yesterday, in honor of my hometown's annual 10K race, the Bolder Boulder, I ran a 10K (6.2 miles).  By far, that is the farthest I've ever run in one stretch.  And, while I was ready to stop, I didn't NEED to, I was just bored and my calves were starting to hurt.  It was also the fastest I've ever run consistently.  I am still slow and probably always will be as my knees start to protest the pounding when things drop into the 8:00 or less per mile zone (I will do short intervals at higher speeds which is how I know this but never any real distance) but the 10K averaged probably 9:30 or so a mile.  I know when I started running this winter, it was closer to 11:00/mile. 

Progress.  Or, more appropriately, baby steps.

The Dreadmill.

I have been trying to run lately.  It is not my forte.  I have heard people talk about the runner's high.  I think that it totally fictitious.  For at least the first half mile, I active hate every single step.  After that, it settles into a more passive dislike.  People tell me that they just zone out and run.  I can do that swimming.  I easily zone out, get my Dory-on ("just keep swimming"), and quickly lose track of how many laps I've done.  But absolutely not with running. I stare at the time or the distance, just to see if it is time to quit yet.  I run because I feel like I should.  And, I have improved, longer distances and slightly faster (although no one would call me anything but slow). Yet, I do not like it.  And, I've been known to almost trip myself, with bruises to show for it.

I wish I was like this guy:

That is absolutely a broken ankle for a clumsy person like me but doesn't he look like he loves the treadmill?

Pool.

Hidden away in my neighborhood, about four blocks from my place, are two outdoor pools.  They technically belong to an odd little neighborhood-within-the-neighborhood called Sandburg Terrace.  But, they are run by one of the gym chains so are open to membership from the public (at a higher cost than the residents of Sandburg, of course).  Not quite the public pools from my suburban youth but close.  M joined last summer when she was a member of the gym that runs the pool and took me as a guest a couple times.  It really reminded me of the many, many summer afternoons I spent, including the lifeguard's whistle for adult swim.  Except this time, that meant it was time for me to get in the water, not out.

This summer, I decided to join the pool too.  It is on the not-cheap side but I really like swimming outside.  And, while I like the occasional lake swim, and get in there at least a few times every summer for a couple long swims, I have never gotten over the feeling that I should be taking a preventative course of antibiotics every time.  This way, I can swim outside without having to battle the waves, seaweed and cold of the lake.  And, of course, nothing like getting some time by the pool, laying in the sun (slathered in sunblock, of course), reading and taking a refreshing dip.

The pool opens in 25 days.  Now, I just hope it is solidly summer by then.  We hit 80 yesterday.  Unfortunately, tomorrow's high is 55.  At least we aren't Colorado, who got a mayday May Day snow storm leaving 6 inches of fresh snow.  

Accomplished.

I accomplished something today that I never thought possible.

Disclaimer: Despite that sentence normally preceding an actual accomplishment for a person is justifiably proud, that is not at all applicable here but the sentence remains true.

I have a love for Lululemon.  Forget the recent negative reports of quality issues with their products.  I have always found their products to be long-lasting, extremely well-designed, attractive, almost magical and addictive.  Whenever I peruse their website or store, I typically want to buy about 90% of their offerings.  There are only two factors that hold me back, one more than the other.

First, cost.  Lulu is not cheap.  $75 for a pair of crop leggings.  $40 for a tank top.  And those are the bare-bones basic models.  Get fancier and the costs rise.  But, I amortize it, as I do with most purchases.  Because Lulu lasts longer than your average workout attire and because I work out frequently, I figure that my cost per wear is significantly less than $1 (for the pants).  Totally worth it.

Second, that for some inexplicable reason, the business casual dress code required by my job does not include leggings, tank tops, hoodies, etc. within its confines.  The limitation on possible wearing opportunities factors into my amortization calculus and thereby constrains my purchases.

However, today I wore a Lulu tank top to work.  Lots of caveats: (1) it was a casual, jeans-sanctioned day; (2) I wore it under a perfectly business-casual appropriate cardigan; and, (3) it was barely visible.  Lulu has always posted pictures of its staffers wearing their clothes out in the non-gym-work world, looking all cute, stylish and comfortable.  I never thought I would get to be like one of those girls but look at me, wearing my Lulu to work.

So, yes, my big accomplishment was wearing a tank top.  Next post might be about tying my shoes or something.

Better Late Than Never.

Last week, I received a shipping notification from a UPS store in Colorado.  I had not ordered anything but the Colorado part told me who to ask.  My parents are in the process of buying a UPS Store franchise.  As part of that process, my mom has been doing training.  Last week, she was training in a store in Fort Collins so I texted her to ask if that email notification was just a test or if she had sent me something.  Her response was "MYOB."  Yes, my mama loves me.  So, I assumed that she actually sent me something and happily awaited delivery on Friday.

As it got toward 5:00 on Friday and still no parents' package delivered, I tracked the package only to find that there was a delivery exception saying that more address information was needed.  So, I got in touch with UPS and provided an overabundance of information on my office location -- firm name, floor on which I sit, cross streets, etc.  I was told I would be contacted within an hour by the Chicago service center.  Four hours later, I received a voicemail on my work line that said that the information was received but because I hadn't provided the information until after 7:00 pm, the package would not be delivered until Tuesday.  Seeing as how I had provided the information at 4:45, I once again called UPS. After two more phone calls and getting a manager involved, they acknowledged that I did meet the deadline and assured me it would be delivered on Monday and that I would receive a call on Monday confirming that.

And, I did.  At 7:57 am, I received a call saying that they had the additional information and the package was on the truck.  But, when it was 4:00 pm and still no package, the tracking information told me that they were missing information and was being held.  AGAIN.  So, again, two phone calls later, I get assured that the package will be delivered on Tuesday.  Of course, on Tuesday, I had to make two more calls because the tracking information still indicated that UPS was confused.  However, this time, they made a second attempt and actually delivered the package.  It was at 8:00 pm or so but it did finally get to my office.

I got it this morning.  TOTALLY worth the frustration and accumulated phone time and complaints:

Peanut brittle, toffee, caramels, mini chocolate bunnies and  jelly belly beans.

I might have diabetes by tomorrow as I love all things in this Easter "basket."  And, my parents' card was a little too prescient and appropriate, considering:

Reads "When it comes to chocolate, does it really matter who brings the basket?"

Being and Nothingness.

For the first time in 34 years, I celebrated my birthday in the warmth.  People with warm weather birthdays do not know how good they have it.  On the day I turned 34, I was in Anguilla where it was 82, sunny, with a breeze.  Just perfect.  And, it remained perfect the entire five days we were in the islands -- except as we were taking the boat to depart where we boated through a brief

Upon my return, people asked me what I did while on vacation.  In short: nothing.  It was wonderful.  For five days, I would wake up and go out to our lanai and enjoy the view from our backyard.

View from our backyard -- yes, the beach was THAT close.

We would order some light breakfast, my mom would take her morning nap, we would go to a beach, have some drinks, return to our rooms and take a nap, go to dinner (great food on the island), have some drinks and go to bed.  I read a lot.  I slept.  I did nothing and enjoyed the heck out of it.

We had a lot of beaches to choose from on the island.  Our backyard overlooked Meads Bay.  Also on the resort's property was Barnes Bay.  On my actual birthday, we went to Shoal Bay, which has at various points, been named the best beach in the world.  It is definitely more touristy than the beaches around the Viceroy.  (While all beaches on Anguilla are public, they don't have to make access easy.  The Viceroy offers a public parking lot that is probably a mile walk to the beach.  Shoal Bay is much more public but it truly beautiful.  One of the local hustlers is Ray De Man.  Even knowing that he is totally hustling the tourists by renting his umbrellas, towels, etc., you can't help but like the guy.  He has business cards and personalized umbrellas:

Yes, that reads I love Ray De Man.

Unfortunately, Anguilla is a bit of trek to get to from Chicago.  My parents flew from Denver to Chicago, where I met them at the gate (which was so unexpected in this post 9/11 era, that neither of them really recognized me at first) and we all flew to Miami.  We had a night layover -- where we got to the hotel at about 10:00pm only to be told our rooms were not yet ready! -- and then flew to St. Maarten and then took a boat to Anguilla.  Mom and I, having made this journey three years ago, had our eyes on the prize: our first beer on St. Maarten while we wait for the boat to Anguilla.  Neither of us really drink beer but for some reason it is perfect and delicious there.

Cheers -- to doing nothing!

First beer!

Anguilla is interesting in that most tourists you talk to have been there before -- in fact, have been there multiple times with plans to return.  It was my second time.  Even with snafus with our room and some annoyances with the resort (which happened last time as well), I have no hesitation in saying I want to go again.

The entrance to the Viceroy Anguilla 

Initially, I was concerned that my dad would not enjoy himself.  He is not a man who does well at doing nothing, at least when he is at home.  But, he took to it like a duck to water.

Getting into the swing of doing nothing.

Although, he and water are not really the best of friends.  So, he did not love the beach portion of our days -- at least the part where anyone actually got wet.  But, he did not mind sitting on the beach with a drink and book.  Not at all.

His beach look: shoes AND socks on, no way is he going in the water.

Mom and I LOVE the beach.  We are both pale people so we were slathered in strong sunblock and sat under umbrellas most of the time -- nothing worse than ruining a perfectly good vacation by burning yourself into discomfort -- but we just love the sand in your toes, the ocean, the breeze, the warmth, the drinks.

More appropriate beach attire.

Proof that everyone looks good in aviators.

Tea Party.

I have lived in my place for almost three years.  And yet, up until yesterday, I had never met one of my next door neighbors.  My other next door neighbor is roughly my age and a really nice girl.  She works from home a lot so not only knows my other neighbor but most of the people in the building.  She decided it would be a good idea to have tea with Wilma so that we could meet.  As it turns out, it was Wilma's 93rd birthday over the weekend so the tea party became a bit of a birthday party as well.

And, would you believe that a tea party for a 93 year old woman was actually a good time?  While she is on oxygen and has some other medical issues, she is mentally sharp.  In fact, she still goes to work for a few hours a day.  And, she has lived in the building since it was built (she actually worked for the company that built it) so knows EVERYTHING.

The tea party quickly turned into finding out what's the T regarding the building.  Like which neighbor had decorated her portion of the common hallway with giant paintings of her and her husband doing various activities.  And, which neighbor allegedly has hookers make house calls.  And, correcting our misunderstanding about which neighbor has a decades long affair with one of the most prominent attorneys in Chicago.   I realized I really don't spend a lot of time at home because I had no idea who most of the people discussed were.  But, I am also glad that I am friendly with these founts of gossipy knowledge!

It's not a big building but clearly, never a dull moment.

White Christmas

It was a white Christmas here in Colorado.  I woke up on Christmas morning to about four inches of fresh powder.  I'm sure all the skiers and snowboarders were very happy boys and girls.  All it meant for me was a little bit of exercise from shoveling the drive and sidewalk.

Overall, this was a really lovely and low-key Christmas.  My dad, brother and J all had Sunday through Wednesday off so we ended up having a family sleepover.  Six people, five dogs, and one cat in one house for three days.  By the end, the animals had mostly settled down and all of the people were looking forward to sleeping in a bed (me, who slept on the couch, while my bro and cousin got the spare bedrooms) or their own beds (bro, J, and all dogs).

Lots of really good food was had, wine drank, walks and naps taken, and games played.  It was a Merry Christmas to all.

The Nutcracker.

As a little kid, I went to the Nutcracker every year.  However, after we left Wisconsin, I did not make it to the Nutcracker again for over 20 years.  A few years ago, my mom got tickets but a blizzard got in my way of returning in time.  This year, we tried again.  Again, the weather threatened but I was able to thread the needle and get to Colorado in time for both the Nutcracker and Christmas.

This year, my mom and I headed down to the Denver arts complex early.  The show was at a weird time -- 6:30 on Friday night.  We decided to go have drinks and apps at a bar in the area early and then go to the ballet.  Our plan was delightful.  We had a couple of glasses of bubbly and some delicious salads before heading to the theater.  While we were at the restaurant, we could not help but notice all these little girls in their Christmas dresses, with a happy mother and a less-than-thrilled looking father.  Mom and I were sitting at the bar when we heard an order for a double Makers Mark be placed by a server -- no doubt for a dad who was not looking forward to the ballet.  Mom joked with the bartender that she too was taking her little girl to the ballet.

The ballet itself was great.  It was funnier and fester than I remember -- but as festive as ever.  It was a great start to our Christmas festivities.

Second To Jesus.

Last night was our fourth annual Trump Girl Holiday Dinner.  Every year, it is a challenge to find a date that all six of us have available for dinner.  This time it took probably twenty emails and one re-scheduling.  But every year, it is also one of all of our favorite nights of the holiday season -- "second to Jesus," as LS was quick to correct.

I feel sorry for those around us at the restaurant but man, do we have a great time.  Six of us sitting at one of the best tables at NoMi, with it being months since we were all in the same place at the same time.  We started drinking bubbly at the bar and continued through dinner.  While we all ordered entrees, thanks to LS' ambassador status at NoMi, Chef Sean sent out a variety of side dishes and desserts.  Apparently, he was concerned about our level of carb intake because while we ordered cauliflower and beets, he sent us Yukon gold mash (O quickly changed its name to Butter as that seemed to reflect the dish better.  Don't get me wrong, it was delicious but less obviously potato than one would think.  Butter, though, that was obvious.), and two other forms of potato.  He was also kind enough to send out four desserts for the table, including an amazing Tahitian vanilla creme topped with cotton candy and a coffee chocolate cake.

In addition to fantastic food and drink, we had games to play.  LS had brought questions (e.g., what was your worst date? what two things are you bad at?) that we all drew from a bowl and had to answer.  It was surprisingly hilarious.  Our server played along, adding his own question to the mix (what dangerous thing have you not yet done but wish you had -- his answer was great white shark diving). I had brought my traditional contribution -- English holiday crackers -- and we all read our jokes and played the charades provided.

Three hours of fun, food and friends.  You cannot beat that.  Well, except for Jesus.

Wish Coming True.

Last year, I repeatedly said that I never wanted to celebrate my birthday in the cold again.  Which is kind of tough considering that I was born in February and live in Chicago.   But, my birthday wish is coming true!  For the first time in 15 years, I will be celebrating my birthday with my parents AND it will be somewhere warm.  I booked the flights today.  Making an otherwise kind of blah birthday, I now cannot wait for my birthday . . . on a beach!

Cuppy.

I was handed Bulls tickets for last Friday's game.  Unless I have an actual conflict, I will never say no to tickets to any sporting event.  What's not to love?  Athletics, hot dogs, time out diversions and free.99?  Sign me up.

This was a pre-season game so the United Center was not entirely full but for at least the first part of the game, the crowd was into it.  However, it pretty quickly became clear that the Bulls had this game easily in hand.  That was particularly obvious at the beginning of the fourth quarter when my favorite time-out diversion occurred.

Every game at the UC, you are handed a little packet of items that include coupons and other things.  Among them is "your" entrant in the various animated races that are shown on the score board.  My favorite -- and, I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in this -- is the Dunkin Donut race.

 There are three entrants: Biggie Bagel, Dashin' Donut and Cuppy Coffee.  No matter who I am actually given, I always cheer for Cuppy.

The crowd was way more into the Dunkin Donut's race than it was the game by the fourth quarter.  No real surprise considering that the Bulls were up by about 15 at that point.  But, it was pretty incredible how loud people got to cheer for animated cup of coffee to run around a track.

Cuppy came from behind on Friday to win the race.  With both the Bulls and Cuppy getting the win, I definitely felt like I got my (free) money's worth out of the game!

Acu-pup-ture.

Shelby has arthritis.  To try to alleviate some of the pain, my parents have been taking her to get acupuncture, among other things.  And, apparently, it really is working -- she has that happy doggy trot back when before you could tell it hurt her just to walk.

BUT, she looks like a porcupine attacked her:

She likes it though because she has someone there to hold her hand (paw), which she loves, and she gets pupsicles, or frozen baby food to lick so that she will hold still.

Running Mantra.

This about sums it up for me on my running pace:

Lord knows there is no way I'd ever lap anyone who is making any attempt to run.

Urban Assault.

Swag UAR t-shirt.  It's actually a pretty nice shirt!

Some months ago, M asked me if I wanted to do the Urban Assault race with her.  She has done it for the past three years and always talked about how much she loved it and how fun it was.  This year I got called up from the bench when her old partner subtly asked if she could switch partners to race with her girlfriend.  M did not have a problem with that.  In fact, when we signed up, she told me that they had come in fourth last year but that I was faster than her old partner so she fully intended to win this year.  No pressure.

Regardless, I was in. And, excited.  Unfortunately, as it turned out, I have been out of town and/or just not riding or working out that much for the past few weeks due to work.  But whatever, I was still in it to win it.  

We had a 7:45 strategy meeting at Starbucks before heading to the starting point.  Of course, we got slightly lost.  Not a great omen. 

Urban Assualt is a bike race sponsored by New Belgium (among others) that involves seven checkpoints around the city.  The first five they give you immediately.  Last Thursday, they gave us a clue in the form of a word search puzzle to the sixth checkpoint.  Once you arrive at the first mystery checkpoint, you are given a clue to the second.  At five of the checkpoints, you have to perform some obstacle (today, running around a baseball field to find numbers that tied to letters in a word jumble type thing, doing an obstacle course with highs and lows while balancing two balls on two poles horizontally between us, bouncing a tennis ball into a bucket with one person tossing and the second using a wooden cutout as a backboard, hiking a shoe (a la a football) and having your partner catch it with a net, and one person riding in a circle while holding a foam sword while the other tried to toss rings on it) and collect a bead.  Return without one of the beads and you get a ten HOUR penalty.  

The all-important beads.

So, we had a tentative route based on going to the mystery point first and working our way around.  Seemed simple enough.  Until we got on our bikes for the first sprint to the mystery checkpoint during which I thought I might die, or at least throw up.  Between having a slower bike (M rides a road bike, I have a hybrid) and just not working out much, I was not fully prepared for this. Once we got past the first checkpoint (at which, we just collected our bead and took a picture of the second mystery checkpoint to text to our friend, L, who agreed to be our phone-a-friend), things simmered down a bit.  We were still riding essentially all-out the entire time but it was not as big of a pack.  By the time we got to the sixth checkpoint, we were on our own more or less.

Parts of the roads were so bumpy and broken (actual gaping holes) that I wished I had a mountain bike.  As it was, I was about a block slower than M thanks to my slow-ass (and slow-ass bike).  However, that worked out just fine. She would arrive first, figure out the obstacle and check our route for where-to once completed.  I may have slowed her down but not hugely, for which I was thankful.

Our friend L figured out the mystery checkpoint for us and we realized it made sense for it to be our last checkpoint.  When we arrived to collect our bead, they told us we were the first of the women's teams through.  Yay!  So, we got to the finish, did our big wheel race to the end, strung our beads and ran to the finish.  At which point, they told us we weren't first.  Drat.

We killed some time -- both before prize time and until the truck with lost-and-found items returned -- with our free beers (yes, at 10:45 am).  They asked us what we normally drank when we were stumbling in our order.  We said prosecco and asked if they had any sparkling.  They didn't find that funny.

We also got out shirts silk-screened.  Neither of us had thought ahead to bring a second shirt so we were down to sports bras in the middle of Wrigleyville for a few minutes but it was worth it as the result was pretty cute and very race-appropriate.

Guess what we are wearing next year?

Around noon, they announced the winners and wouldn't you know, Team Lissy was in first place for the women's division.  The men's division beat us by 20 minutes -- they were 25 minutes faster than google maps anticipated, and that was without any obstacles! We've determined that we lost at least 10 minutes due to our poor performance on obstacles but they probably were just that much faster.  Regardless, we will take our W and resulting backpack prizes and come back to defend our title next year.  Our goal for next year is to just flat-out win the whole thing.  (Clearly not for the prize, which is as much beer as you are tall.)

If only I hadn't bought a backpack last week!

Like a G6 (or 900 Falcon).

Among the many things that do not suck in life: flying private.

Friday night was my first, and in all likelihood, last experience of flying on a private plane.  But, it definitely does not suck.

 I'm on record as saying that I like airports.  And, I do.  But, you know all the things that can be annoying or stressful about flying? They simply do not exist when you fly privately.  Traffic making you late?  Doesn't matter.  So long as you are with the person who owns (or, at least is paying for) the plane, it is not leaving without you no matter how late you are.  Security makes you take off shoes, belts, jackets and laptops (potentially allowing for the old switcheroo)?  No worries.  There is none of that.  You just drop off your luggage like a gate check and walk up the stairs on to the plane.

The aforementioned stairs up the plane.

Equipped eight leather captain's chairs and two couches, the plane could comfortably sit fourteen.  There were eight of us on the flight.  Before you ask, yes, there were snacks and drinks possible (bottles of wine, mini-bar sized liquor, and beer, along with water and sodas).  No, I did not partake beyond a water and a banana. These were my views for most of the ride:

Straight ahead into the pilot's world.

Can't beat that out the window.

A mere hour and a half later, we landed at Midway, ready to be whisked home via car service.  Mo' money, mo' problems, sure, but travelling isn't one.

Trying.

It is the eve of my first out of town trial.  And, so far, it has been a mix of the expected and unexpected.

Expected:

• Wilmington, Delaware is as scenic as ever for me.  And, by that I mean, I have stayed at the same hotel, walked across the same square, and sat in the same conference rooms that I have seen on every other (both) trip(s) I've made here;
• Long hours.  Average is a steady 14 hours per day so far this week;
• The partner I work with on this is as reasonable, efficient, pleasant and generally nice to be around as ever; and, 
• My health has suffered greatly.  I have not been working out (I got to the gym for exactly 20 minutes of cardio this morning and that has been a high for the week). There is a snack table that I have to walk by at least twenty times per day and I CANNOT NOT STOP at that snack table, even if it is just for a spark-in-the-dark lifesaver.  I'm mainlining sugar and caffeine.

Unexpected:

• Not so much a team spirit feeling.  Nary a go-team has been uttered (by anyone other than me at least);
• No fire drills (so far).  While the hours have been long, it hasn't been super stressful.  Just a lot to do but everything has been under control at least for the tasks for which my little team has been responsible; and,
• The catered meals have not included pizza.  Most people appreciate our host firm's efforts to think outside the group meal box but I'd much rather pull a slice out of the pizza box.

Wish us luck tomorrow and Friday.  GO TEAM!

Glamorama 2012.

I say it every year because it is true: Glamorama is one of my favorite events of the year.  Just the perfect mix of fashion, music, fancy, and party.

My only quibble with Glam is that it is always on a Friday.  Last year, M had to rush to make it thanks to work.  This year, I was the one rushing (although it was to make it to dinner more than Glam).  On the plus side, it never takes me very long to get ready for it -- throw on a dress, add some makeup, grab your ticket and you can be out the door in ten minutes.  It is not like a formal event where the hair takes forever.  

Prior to heading to the Harris Theater, we had dinner at Aria.  M and I wanted to go there since watching Top Chef's most recent season.  After a death-defying cab ride, we were thankful to be there.  Unfortunately, no one seemed even halfway as thankful to see us.  We had to flag our server down and express our need to leave within an hour.  The food was very tasty but the atmosphere was a little odd.  I chalk that up to its location in a hotel.

From dinner, we walked a block to the show and afterparty which were held at a new venue -- the Harris Theater.  The historical venue for the event is the Chicago Theater and the After Party on Macy's seventh floor.  I'm of mixed feelings about the change but overall, I think I prefer the old venues.  On the plus side for the new venue, everything was in one place.  There was no block-long mad dash to get the afterparty.  On the minus side, the new venue was smaller, which made it seem like you did everything you could possible do in one circuit around.  That said, it was still super fun.

Our annual picture provided by Patron:

L, me, K and M.  I have no idea why my head looks so small.

This year's new photo opp, the flipbook:

Out of the ORDinary.

For me, I have been travelling a lot lately.  I like to think I'm a good traveler -- packing is just a matter of grabbing my 3-1-1 ziplock bag, adding a suit and some workout clothes.  Everything else just lives in my suitcase and carry-on.  I like to think I'm fast through security (considering that I'm not pre-check -- I'm still slowed down by others in front of me).  And, I like the airport.  

I had a flight late this afternoon.  I left on the early side as I never know what the traffic is going to be like getting out to O'Hare and don't mind being early.  As a reward for my early bird status, I got selected for random extra security screening as I went through TSA screening.  That was no big deal -- just swabbing my hands and waiting for the results to come back clean.  But, in the three minutes it took for that to happen, when I got back to pick up my stuff, I realized my laptop was gone.  In its place was another Dell laptop but one that was obviously not mine.  Obvious, you ask?  Well, yes -- this laptop had a huge sticker on its top while mine does not.  So, obvious to me, less so to the person who took the wrong laptop.

It may not surprise you to learn that the TSA was not particularly helpful.  They first told me that this happened more often than you'd think but then had to conference among themselves three times on what they should do.  As they reviewed the security tapes to try to figure out who pulled the switcheroo, I was on the phone, waiting to get through to work to determine what the proper procedure was as it was my work laptop.  It seemed prudent while waiting to fill out a police report, which as it turns out is part of the proper procedure.  The Chicago police officer did not seem particularly interested, enthusiastic or optimistic about the whole thing but said she would take a walk through the terminal to see if she could find the unknowing culprit.

Since I was early, I decided to just sit and wait and see.  Incredibly, the CPD actually found the girl!  When she returned to security, she apologized immediately ("I'm so sorry, I'm sure this has been stressful for you") and handed over my laptop.  

I will not take this as a bad sign for the week ahead -- just out of the ordinary.

Left Turns.

Work has been extremely busy lately as we lead up to a trial in three weeks.  Even with that, there was no way I was going to say no when my friend KWW told me he was going to be in town to do the NASCAR race at Chicagoland Speedway in Joliet and asked if I would like to attend.  I can't call myself a NASCAR fan or even knowledgeable about the sport -- I think I can name, at most, 5 NASCAR drivers -- but the answer to that is always going to be yes.  And, because KWW would be working the race and not really able to hang out, I got M and K to go with me.

When K decided she would skip her brunch plans and come to NASCAR, she immediately burst into a chorus of Proud to be an American.  Honestly, we expected to hear it everywhere we turned once we arrived at the track.  In that, we were disappointed.  But we did have some stereotypes met, including: confederate flags; lots of beer; and, bad clothes:

Seen on two separate people, the assault rifle motif was popular, even more jarring to me considering the Aurora shootings not three days ago.

It was awesome.  Part state fair midway, part sporting event, part People of Walmart.  So much fun to be had between the planned diversions and people watching.

We suspected it was going to be great when we were starting our hike from our parking spot and flagged down a golf cart to ask where Will Call was.  The driver told us but said he couldn't give us a ride (before we even asked) because it was only for people with disabilities.  Out of sheer laziness, I told the man that I had rheumatoid arthritis.  For the first time, I'm happy to have it as we were told to climb on it.  K and I sat in the back while M had a fairly detailed conversation about twinkies and their history.

Our twinkie-loving driver dropped us off at the midway where we quickly obtained a margarita and a lot of free swag.  Sunglasses, hats, collapsible water bottles, bottle openers, koozies, fans, stress balls, crayons, pens, coloring books and more.

I refuse to heed the advice of the tire stress ball.

Yes, this is a bad picture with my nose looking even more broken than it is and the child-sized frames but they are cute right?  At least, the Geico gecko in the upper left corner is cute.

K would oblige me to point out that while it is a cute motif it is not a great insurance company -- go State Farm!

We started playing the various games and KWW was able to join us briefly.  The three of us got to take this picture.  Don't we make convincing mini-drivers?

In case the whole law thing doesn't work out for us.

Before entering the track, we got snacks.  For me, I had one of my favorite things: a hot dog at a sport event.  It was the oddest bun I've had (essentially a thick piece of bread with a slit down the middle) but still good.

Once we entered the track, we made our ascent to our seats.  The seats were awesome -- we could see everything -- but man, were they steep:

Section 121, Row 58, Seat 1.  It is a long way up (and down). NASCAR seats are not for the unfit.

KWW was able to join us for the prayer/pledge of allegiance/national anthem/fly-over and the beginning of the race.  He had warned us -- and even provided ear plugs -- that it was loud but it is hard to understand just how loud until you experience it:

This was coming off a caution about twenty-five laps in.  VROOM!  That's a lot of left turns.  My favorite part was watching the pit crews.  They are so impressive.

Cars lined up in front of pit row before the start.

We had to leave a bit early and apparently we missed the perfect race ending: two laps under a caution, two under white and the checkered flag.  Honestly though, even with missing the "perfect ending," it could not have been more fun.  AND, on the way home, I got to fill up on cheap suburbs gas and get a desperately-needed car wash.

By far, my best Sunday in a long, long time.  Thanks, KWW!

Preach.

I saw this on BuzzFeed today.  It was part of a promotional post by Political Animals ("9 Inspirational Quote from Independent Women Who  Kick Butt").  Normally, I avoid promoted posts but I'm a real sucker for some good quotes.  And, all I can say about this one is: PREACH.

 "Maybe what bothers me the most is that people say that Hillary is a bitch. Let me say something about that: Yeah, she is. And so am I and so is this one. (Points to Amy Poehler) Know what? Bitches get stuff done!"  

Beware of Sharp Objects.

As I was riding to the gym this morning, I thought back to a few months ago when I had my first ever flat.  I was thinking that while it had been quite an unfortunate and not inexpensive start to the week, that I just loved riding my bike and how much easier, cheaper and fun it is than driving.

And then, I heard a hissing.  I thought at first that I was just hearing things, maybe a sprinkler nearby or something but no, I was at commercial street corner with no sprinklers nearby.  So, I hopped off my bike and listened closer.  Sure enough, my bike was hissing.  Upon a close inspection, I found a small piece of glass stuck in the front tire.  And, of course, I still don't have the necessary components or confidence to be able to change a flat on my own.  So, I walked my bike back home, stuck it in my car and drove to the gym.

And then, I was getting dressed this morning after my spin class, I managed to stab myself in the neck with a pin I didn't realize was in my dress.

I'm hoping that this morning is not the start of a repeat of my bad week back in March that began with a flat. Instead, I have my fingers crossed that it is just a bad day for me and sharp objects.

Puppy Time!

I took advantage of last week's holiday lull to head back to Colorado to visit my family and get some puppy time.

My "puppy" is almost nine.  I had forgotten just how sharp those little puppy teeth are.  Just how funny puppies are when they get excited and tumble over themselves.  And, just how cute they are.

Chewing on something appropriate while trying to look innocent.

I thought Belle was great.  Unfortunately, Shelby does not yet agree.  I can't say I blame her -- she is bald in spots because of Belle's constant chewing (and Shelby is a well-trained dog who knows better than to bite another, even if the other dog is gnawing on her).  Similarly, Sam, one of my mom's cats, is none-too-pleased with Belle and her ongoing ambushes that result in pouncing, swatting, and hissing.  

Temporary pet detente between Shelby, Sam and Belle.

Belle is a smart little doglet.  Hopefully, sooner rather than later, she will decide she wants to pay attention when my parents try to train her so she is a smart, well-behaved little doglet.  My mom has trained plenty of dogs in her time.  But, I received "51 Puppy Tricks" as a puppy time present and shared it with my mom.  I'm pretty sure she will be teaching the new dog new tricks, including teaching Belle to ring a bell when she needs to go outside.  

One other thing that I forgot about puppies: just how fast they become dogs.  Not a week later since I saw her, my mom sent me this picture:

In part, it is the angle and perspective but I already think she looks more like a small dog than a puppy.  Pretty soon she will no longer fit in her favorite hiding place: