A Dark And Stormy Night.

I slept like sh*t last night. Almost literally.

As I keep saying, no one moves here for the weather. Not quite six months ago, thanks to the Groundhog's Day blizzard, people were complaining because of the snow and cold. For the past week, people complained about the heat and humidity. It was five days straight of high 90s, heat indices hovering around 110, and high humidity. Now, we have some extreme thunderstorms. Last night, we received half a foot of rain, apparently a single-day high since they started keeping records in 1871.

As a result of all the rain, the sewage line in my building backed up. It flooded the garage, and slowly made its way up to my third floor bathrooms. Around 1:30, I woke up to this loud splashing noise and awful smell. As the storm raged outside, with each lightening strike or wind gust, the disgusting grew in cadence with the storm. I took this while it was happening:

As I type, I'm waiting on professional cleaners to arrive. (My homeowner's association fees paying a dividend.) Because, it looks like this right now:

Just be thankful I can't insert the smell.

**UPDATE: The cleaners are here and working their magic. However, it seems that I am going to have to replace the carpeting in my bedroom because the sewer water flooded on to it. As M pointed out, I've had a toilet in my bedroom and dining room at various points in this house's life so in the grand scheme, this isn't all that bad. **

Aquabike.

Isn't aquabike a stupid-sounding term?

It makes me think that it's a comic hero's mode of transport.

Or, what Spongebob rides around town under the sea.

Or, some super-low impact bike-like contraption you use in a pool.

But, it's not.

Aquabike is what they call a triathlon without the run leg. A triathlon without the swim leg is called a duathlon. That sounds respectable. And, like the triathlon, its ameniable to punny phrases. Triathlon: if at first you don't succeed, tri tri again. Duathlon: just du it. Aquabike: . . . I've got nothing.

Despite the embarrassing, and/or vaguely insulting, but definitely nobody has a damn clue to what you're referring name, I'm now signed up for two aquabike races in the next month. I'm such a follower sometimes. M asked me if I wanted to do the South Shore Tri (Aquabike). Sure, seems manageable (750M swim, 20K bike, and M gets to run a 5K) and close to home as it starts from the 63rd Street Beach. Bonus. Then, she asked if I wanted to do the She Bangs Tri (Aquabike). That one is over an hour away from home -- meaning we need to get up at 4:00 am -- and the day after a cocktail reception we're hosting, but what the hell. (As it turns out, the She Bangs Tri, is the sprint distance while we are signed up for the Olympic distance. Technically, we are doing the Bangs Lake Triathlon (Aquabike) but since I like puns, I'm sticking with calling it the She Bangs.)

Random Re-cap.

A few quick-ish thoughts from the weekend:

1. Mario van Peebles may look like a homeless man these days but he seems like a very nice guy. We had dinner at the restaurant formerly known as the Beachstro on Friday night. He stopped on his run to use the restroom. K loved him when she was in middle school so she recognized him. M and I frantically googled/wiki'd/IMDB'd him. When he was leaving, M yelled out "MARIO!" -- he turned around, came over to say hi, and let us take a picture with him.

2. We brought our friend K to the gym with us to do "the double." I love the double but I also think its hard. At the same time, sometimes I also think I'm just being a wimp. But, K is in good shape and by the time hour one was done she was vacillating between hating us, wanting to punch the instructor in the throat, and not wanting to move anymore. She pushed through to spin like a champ though. My point is that its nice to be validated that you're not just being a baby sometimes.

3. Ravinia can be a really lovely time. It is kind of like baseball to me -- if the weather is perfect, I think its a great way to spend an evening. And, last night, it was perfect. The day's weather started questionably, clouds and maybe rain potential. My knees told me that was just a grumpy Mother Nature rather than an incoming storm. By the time we arrived at Ravinia -- around 7 -- it was sunny, not a cloud in the sky, and no mosquitoes either.

4. We brought so much stuff with us to Ravinia, it looked like we were embarking on a week-long camping trip rather than three hours in the park. Table-in-a-bag, two chairs-in-a-bag, two RECLINERS-in-a-bag, three blankets, two coolers, and a grocery bag. Even with all that, we forgot something (corkscrew -- no big deal, some blanket neighbors let us borrow one).

5. Jennifer Hudson can SING. I know that's not news but the woman is really good and puts on a great show.

6. The good and the bad thing about getting older is the inability to sleep in. This morning was a touch too early for me for a Sunday (5:40) but the heat and humidity is coming this afternoon and I wanted to get in a bike ride and lake swim. It's 10:45 am and I rode 24 miles, swam 2 miles in the lake, walked to Walgreens, started my laundry, and had breakfast already.

7. I love pancakes. That is all.

Waiting.

Living away from your family can be a blessing and a curse. I like to think that I'm blessed with distance so I often have perspective on family issues that those who live near to each other do not have. On the other hand, when there are health emergencies, it is an absolute curse. ESPECIALLY when your family members who are there are not good communicators.

Over the past year, my mom had a couple surgeries, both with worrisome complications and long recoveries. I spent many hours glued to my phone, waiting for updates. Last night, I experienced the same thing with my dad. He had been feeling sick and running a substantial fever for a day. He finally went to the doctor yesterday afternoon and upon arrival, his vital signs were so alarming that the doctor called an ambulance and rushed him to the hospital. One of the worst things about this for me was that my dad is supposed to be the healthy one.

For three long hours, that's the last thing I knew. My mom does not have text-capability on her phone and was not answering calls. My brother did not go to the hospital, taking my mom's "don't come until we know something" at face value. (Side note: Idiot. She should not have to sit alone, worried, no matter what she said. That absolutely would not have been if I lived there.) Finally, I told my brother to call the hospital to see if my dad was admitted. And, by golly, he was. And, he was having surgery! Finally, finally, my brother got in the car and drove up there. At that point, communication improved some. Nonetheless, it was a very long night, sitting and waiting to hear. Not that it would have been all that different if I was there but at least you know you're getting all the information real-time when you're there.

Around 1:15 am, I got the text saying that my dad was out of surgery, his infected gall bladder removed, and he was doing okay. Today, I wait to hear an update. The latest is that he is in the ICU, still suffering from a serious infection. He arrived at the hospital in septic shock and if he had waited much longer, he may have died, so I guess a serious infection is a step up.

** UPDATE: He got moved from the ICU to a regular room. That is a baby step in the right direction, even if the earliest he will be released is Thursday. **

Related, why is reception the worst in hospitals? I know there is a lot of machinery and such but of all the places where people want to be able to contact others, a hospital has got to be VERY high on the list. Someone needs to fix that.

Observations.

After a long, fun weekend, a few wrap-up thoughts:

1. They grow the mosquitos big in the suburbs. I have the biggest bites and in some odd places. How does one get a mosquito bite on the knuckle of their index finger? Shouldn't I have noticed that? Mosquito ninjas. And, I'm pretty sure I got my first bite (on the inside of my foot, no less) the minute I stepped off the train in Wilmette.

2. Because I didn't go to the gym, I showered more at home this weekend than I have in the entire 14 months I've lived there combined. This was helped because I kept getting super-dirty. Lake swims, bike rides, beach time. All required showers so I was showering two or three times a day. Kind of a sad little record I set.

3. The city of Chicago did not put on its own fireworks this year. Instead, it left it to Navy Pier to put on the show. I was walking home from an impromptu BBQ last night when the Navy Pier show began. People were stopping on the street, pulling up chairs and the like. I felt vaguely unpatriotic because I didn't even really turn around to glance at them. But, the fact is, they do that exact show every Wednesday and Saturday throughout the summer. I just hope that the people who were camped out for the show were people who don't live downtown and don't see it twice a week.

4. I now have a very sad feeling that summer is over. Ever since studying for the bar, I have felt that way but this year is worse. When you study for the bar, the common wisdom is that you buckly down and get serious after the Fourth. While all of July is ahead and essentially free, I think every weekend in August through September 10 are spoken for with planned events. Blink and summer is going be gone at this rate.

Journeying.

One of the people in M's department at work was hosting a BBQ last night. Plus, he lives close to the beach for optimal fireworks viewing. Sounds great, right? The only hitch is that it was up in Wilmette.

While one person suggested that we get car service, we went the frugal route and took public transportation. First, we took the 22 bus up to the end of its route -- I swear it stopped every block. A little over an hour later, we were waiting for the purple line to take us to its very last stop. Our host's directions told us that it was just a block and a half walk from there to his house. Even discounting the fact that we missed a turn and got off on a tangent -- we saw a HUGE and beautiful Baha'i temple which was our confirmation we were going the wrong way as you know that would be a landmark on the directions -- it was more like a half mile walk.

But, the journey was totally worth it. It was a fun party, great margaritas (and I don't even really like margaritas!), good people, and fantastic fireworks on the beach.

However, we took a cab home.

Take Two.

This morning was take-two on the longer bike ride, after yesterday's unfortunate tire-pop. And, putting aside that M had to get a new tire, I actually think it was for the best. Yesterday morning was probably 80 with high humidity and no breeze. Today it was mid-70s with low humidity and strong breeze. Yesterday, the lake was pretty calm. This morning, there was a pretty strong chop. All in all, today was a better day for a ride and yesterday was a better day for a swim.

I've lived in Chicago for seven years but I've never been to the end of the lake path. That makes me feel kind of silly but I didn't have a bike until this year so I guess its understandable. We were supposed to ride for 90 minutes. That turned out to be 22 miles total, or almost to the end of the lake path on the south side. Its really pretty -- you get some surprising bits of nature, lake views, and the most lovely view of the city from the end of the path. Although, technically, our 45 minute turnaround point was a mile short of the end. Next time.

The plus side to riding south is that you get "open road" pretty quickly. The north side of the path tends to be much more cluttered with dogs, walkers, strollers, runners, rollerbladers, etc. The minus to riding south is that the turnaround means you have the wind in your face in the entire return trip.

By the time we got home, we were both starving. In fact, we pulled up to our building but decided that we had no time to waste in getting food so we rode to Elly's. I'd be lying if I said we looked good but we did put on an impressive display of eating. Pancakes, omlette, potatoes, coffee, all good, all gone. Great start to the morning.

Pop!

M is doing a training group for an Olympic triathlon. She has done a couple triathlons before but a shorter distance. For the shorter distance, she never did anything that I'd count as "training" -- more like she'd go for a longer bike ride, come to swim class, and occasionally go for a run. Her Saturdays are generally a ride with her training group but because of the 4th, she was on her own. She asked me if I wanted to join her for her scheduled ride and, since the gym canceled classes for the weekend, I was in. We agreed to ride early in the morning because it was supposed to be hot. (And, it was. At one point, it was 92, but felt like 103 per the weather channel.)

We got maybe a mile south when all of the sudden we heard a POP! I thought maybe her tire cap had just come off. As it turns out, she rode over a piece of glass at JUST the right angle that cut through both the inner and outer tube of her tire. At first, she thought lesson learned, I will carry an extra tube and tools in the future. I have not learned that lesson yet. Especially because, even if she had a tube and tools it would not fix the problem -- she had to buy a whole new tire.

However, since we were at Ohio Street beach, we decided to jump in the lake. (We were planning on swimming after the ride anyway.) Mark it down -- July 2 was my first swim in the lake. The park district tells me it was 64 degrees. It really was not bad. I don't know how long it took to swim half a mile but I was not bone-chilled. Especially not after we had to carry her bike back home. Her bike is lighter than mine but it still is cumbersome and awkward on the shoulder so we ended up taking turns. By the time we got home, I was hot again.

The rest of the day was good -- farmer's market, breakfast and mimosas, garden center, ice cream cone, nap, grilled out, and dog walk. Tomorrow morning is take two on the bike ride. Hopefully, the only pop we hear will be from fireworks later in the day.

Big Money (Tree).

Over a year ago, my parents gave me a money tree to mark my entrance to the 30-year club, also known as buying my first place and getting a mortgage. I was impressed with myself for just keeping it alive for a year. Until I realized that maybe my low expectations on my money tree were keeping me down. While talking to my mom last week, I asked if maybe the lil tree needed re-potting. She told me that if I re-pot it, the money tree would grow bigger. Small pot, small tree. Big pot, big money tree. To me, which I said as I was pondering out loud, that clearly means that big pot means big LOTTERY money tree. As my mom said, "get a bigger f'in pot."

So, before:

After:

Tonight is Saturday night aka Powerball night. I fully expect to wake a multi-millionaire.

Why Not?

Post-meet, M and I went to brunch. After food and a few mimosas, we decided it was too pretty to go back home. So, we strolled down towards Michigan Ave.

As we walked by Sprinkles, we realized, it was the first time either of us have ever been by it when there was not a line out the door. So, we decided, why not? We had to share a cupcake. I guess neither of us are cupcake people because while good, there is no way either of us would stand in line to get one.

We ducked into 900 N. to comparison shop Lulu but got suckered into MaxMara by a sale sign. MaxMara is not a store I normally shop. But, on sale, its almost affordable for really nice clothing. So, why not? M and I tried on what seemed to me like the entire store, all of which was chosen by the shopper, not us, while sipping free prosecco. Definitely my idea of how to shop.

We wondered down to the new All Saints store. Have to say that I don't get it. To me, it looks like it falls into the H&M and Zara genre but their prices are definitely NOT -- dresses seem to average $300 there. But, the store still had the new-car smell and everything was merchandised well so it was fun to look around.

We decided to take the longer, but lake, route home. The sand at Oak Street was actually hot, even though it was probably only in the mid-to-high 70s. By the time we were getting up to North Ave, M decided that it was a good idea to jump in the lake. What's the point of living so close to the lake if you can't jump in it every once in a while? It would probably be a five minute walk home in soaking clothes. (Mind you, not really a good idea since it was only 62 and she is on antibiotics for a sinus infection.) I decided why not? We both climbed down a ladder, fully-clothed, and swam a bit. We definitely got some weird looks on our five minute walk home that we totally deserved. But, why not? It was invigorating.

Winner.

Well, my question has been answered. Compared to the average person on the street (or splashing around in the pool), I'm a good swimmer. Compared to people who do masters swimming, I'm weak.

The best part of doing the meet was when I walked out to my car to head to the pool, bright and early Sunday morning. M had decorated it, high-school style, with signs.

We have now decided that if we ever do some sort of race together that we have team colors -- black and turquoise, based on my nail color this week.

Once I got to the pool in the suburbs, I knew almost immediately that I was WAY out of my depth (so to speak) in this. There were people wearing their state masters team shirts, the Razr suit (or some cheaper version of the serious-swimmer-suit), talking about how they sandbagged their times to be seeded in certain heats. They were doing dive starts. I was not even sure which lane was which and have never done a dive start in my life. Honestly, I should have cannonballed in -- it would have been funnier at least.

The race was not awesome. I was not used to swimming in a pool that length (50 meters, as opposed to my usual 25). The pool was clearly not usually configured at that length so the lane stripes on the bottom were kind of hard to see. I actually got disoriented on my turns, even though I was not flip turning. My time was way slower than what I expected and I just did not feel good.

All that said, I am a winner. Again, the beauty of being the only person in your age group.

Carb Loaded.

My mom called me on Saturday afternoon to wish me good luck on my swim the next day. She half-jokingly asked me if I was going to carb-load that evening. Now, a 1500 totally does not require carb-loading. It's no marathon. So, I told her no. At least not intentionally.

But, I did end up carb-loading. On Saturday night, M, her mom, and I went to see Super 8. I was a little hesitant to see the movie because I knew it was sci-fi and that's not my favorite genre but it got good reviews so I went. And, I'm glad I did. The movie has everything a summer blockbuster should -- explosions, fear, emotion, etc. On my left was a guy who talked to the characters in the film, advising them to drop their guns or telling them they were dumb. On my right, I had the bonus entertainment of M -- its sometimes more fun to watch her watch a movie than watch the actual movie. At one point, her mom and I said that maybe we should have gone to see Bad Teacher or something because Super 8 was really an emotional rollercoaster for M.

I have trouble going to a movie without getting the delicious movie theater popcorn. Thankfully, M's mom also loves movie popcorn. We shared a giant tub, including butter. We both believe that if you're going to eat it, you should do it up right. It is not as if it ever started off healthy. And, I also feel the need to cut that popcorn salt with twizzlers. M came prepared with a two pound bag for all of us to share. Popcorn + twizzlers = carb-loaded. Dinner of champions?

Bits.

1. When I entered my upcoming swim meet, my goal was to not come in last in my age group. Depending on how you look at it, I can already predict that I will meet that goal. Call me an optimist but since I'm the only woman in my age group, I'd say I'm the winner.

2. I've noticed a trend of people taking an already well-known phrase, tweaking it just slightly, posting it as their status and calling it a their-name-ism. I would never say, for example, "LP-ism: when life gives you limes, make mojitos." I can't decide if doing that is hubris or ignorance, to think that they really came up with that basic idea and phrasing -- around for ages -- is original to them.

3. Today is the first official day of summer. It is 9:00 am, 77 degrees and ridiculously humid. Definitely summertime-Chi.

Never Say Never.

I cannot remember what motivated me to add the Justin Bieber documentary "Never Say Never" to my Netflix queue. I like documentaries. And, I think I remember hearing good things about the movie. I don't know. I forgot about it until all of the sudden it was at the top of my queue and in my mailbox.

Once you, as a 32 year old woman, have what is essentially a concert tour DVD of a 16 (17? I don't know, young) year old boy in hand, if you're not insane, you're at least a tiny bit embarrassed. I think the not-insane caveat is important because (1) there were some clearly adult women in the movie who were screaming and crying like the pre-teen fan girls; and (2) I recently read a story about NKOTBBSB fans who never grew up -- women in their 30s who have their offices plastered with pictures, t-shirts, and articles regarding their boy band of choice. Not normal.

But I digress.

After a very random and late Friday night out and full day Saturday, I was happy to lay low on Saturday night. Thankfully, M and my friend K, who was in town visiting, were of a similar mode and invited me up to hang out and have some pizza. I brought Never Say Never with me. It is MUCH better to watch that movie with a group. Here are some takeaways:

1. Unlike the heart, you cannot transplant vocal chords.
2. Boyz 2 Men, probably at their height of popularity around the time Justin Bieber was born in 1994, is now singing backup for Bieber. It was just sad.
3. We have Usher to blame for Bieber's penchant for sagging pants, vests and hoodies. My guess was that Bieber was trying emulate Usher's style. But, I learned that Usher actually sent one of his stylists to Bieber to style him.
4. Will and Jada Pinkett Smith seem like really great parents. When Jaden's first-ever performance got (surprise!) moved up, they seemed to drop everything to get a helicopter to be there to see it.
5. Taylor Swift has to be a little pissed that the fangirls have co-opted her hand-heart gesture. Of course, it is actually incredible that it took until the past few years for someone to use that regularly. Surely the Beatles or Elvis or someone should have come up with it.
6. It bears repeating that unlike the heart, you cannot transplant vocal chords. That seemed to be the vocal coach's go-to phrase. Every time she got any camera time, she reminded us.

P.S. I just heard that Bieber is the second highest paid celebrity under 30, having made $53 million last year. Kid is doing a whole lot of something right.

5K.

I have never ran a 5K. I'm pretty sure that even though I've been on 5K charity walks, I've never walked a 5K (although, to be fair, I've certainly walked more than 3 miles before, just not as an organized activity). So what made me decide that I would do a 5K swim in Lake Michigan, I really can't say. I do not think I have ever swam 5K continuously even back when I was a swimmer. I certainly haven't done it recently. Hell, my personal best of continuous swimming was 2.5K.

Until today.

After boxing this morning, I planned on doing a long swim, thinking about 2500. My arms were tired from the boxing, but for some reason, I was feeling the water. I got to 2500 and thought, well, let's swim two miles (3300). I was still feeling just fine so I figured, what's another 700, for a nice even 4000. By the time I got to 4000, I was getting tired and hungry. But, I had a Finding Nemo moment, with a little voice telling me to "just keep swiming." Plus, I checked the clock and had about ten minutes to end on an even number in the water. So, I ended up swimming 5000. I certainly did not swim it quickly but now I know that I absolutely can do it and have the next three months to work on doing it both in the lake and faster.

Memorial Day.

Today is Memorial Day and it seems like Chicago suddenly decided it is summer. After yesterday's ride, both M and I were chilled for hours. Today could not be more different. It is sunny, hot and humid. It is fantastic.

I rode to the gym, lifted and swam, rode home. M and I walked toward the beach, with a pitstop to buy sunglasses. We got there around 11, securing some lounge chairs at the place formerly known as the Beachstro. It is under new management and that new management foolishly changed the name to something bland and unpunny. On the plus side, they serve prosecco. On the minus side, its in a plastic cup of a size to make the price insulting. We switched to -- gasp -- beer. A beer was actually perfect in the weather. By the time we left at 2, people were stalking our chairs. Early birds get the lounge chairs.

We headed home, to shower and change. We strolled down to Lulu (they FINALLY are selling biking gear with reflective strips on the back. It seems like an idea they should have had a long time ago. It's Lulu so it is, of course, expensive perfection. The shirt I wanted was sold out in my size at both stores in the area AND online. It just got into stores on Thursday if that tells you anything but what an obvious but brilliant idea it is) and Anthropologie. I found a lovely new dress to come home with me. There are so many biting flies out that I almost gave up on the dress because the line to check out was so long and the flies were so bad. But I preservered. Later, we headed back out with Scout to have dinner at Bistro Margot. While sitting on their patio, we noticed people walking by with ice cream cones. We headed in that direction to track down the ideal ending to our day. Not to state the obvious, but ice cream is so good. We both made a bit of a mess of ourselves with dripping cones as we walked home but it was perfect.

It's now Monday night and I have a belated case of the Sunday blues. Good thing today was really a low key but wonderful day. As M said, I think tonight we will both sleep like little kids in summer: tired from playing, too much sun, and with ice cream in our bellies.

Bike the Drive.*

Thanks to the seasonally inappropriate weather we've had this spring, I have not been riding my bike as much as I anticipated. I'm kind of a wimp. And, although she is not a wimp like me, I don't think M has been either. Putting that aside, we both signed up to Bike the Drive. As we don't do anything half way, this time literally, we decided we were going to ride the whole thirty miles. The ride kicks off from Grant Park on Jackson. You can ride south on Lake Shore Drive to 57th and return (total of 15 miles), or, ride north to Hollywood (also 15) or you can do the whole loop. We figured that if we started at 7, we'd be able to do the thirty by 9:30 when riders needed to be off the road, before it opened again for car traffic.

This morning dawned on the cool side (my phone told me it was 57) and with heavy fog. We needed to make a pit stop at the gym to get bike shoes so we actually left at 6:35. M saw people at the gym who had already completed their ride by then (I have to assume they only did 15, since the ride didn't start until 5:30)! We were ready to roll.

We head south first. The fog was so heavy that as we rode past Soldier Field, you could barely tell it was there. Once we made the turn to head north, the fog actually got worse. For the most part, you could not even tell there was a lake, right beside you. Despite that, it was a fun ride. M and I rode pretty much together the whole time -- we're optimistic that we'll be pictured together by the photographers stationed on the course. There was a real variety of riders out: the serious-looking triathlfreak types (including one dude who had his racing helmet on), kids pedaling hard with their little legs on their little bikes, people riding with their dogs in a trailer behind, lots of bicycles-built-for-two, and even one built for three. The ride volunteers yelled out all sorts of obvious advice --"Keep pedaling your bike" was my favorite -- and cheered people on like it was a race. It was a really fun ride.

That said, I think both of us were starting to feel the pain by the end. Who knew your seat would end up so hard? We didn't really time ourselves but we think we did the thirty in an hour and forty minutes, which I think is relatively fast (which we weren't trying to be, we just don't do things slowly generally, I guess). I was really happy to have a nice warm shower. And, despite the chill and mist, we were actually lucky. The weather got significantly worse during the course of the morning, as a big thunderstorm moved in.

*Picture not representative of our weather.

Commemorative.

One of the partners I work with always brings small gifts for people he works with from his travels. And, he travels A LOT. Thanks to him, I have little souvenirs from places like Nepal, Singapore, Japan, and most recently, London. He had a case over the past couple years that sent him to London relatively frequently so I have received a variety of London souvenirs. They tend to be my favorites. Prior to his most recent trip, my favorite was a chocolate bar with the "Keep Calm and Carry On" slogan on it. First, I love candy. Second, I really enjoy that slogan. So British.

But, his most recent souvenirs are the clear winners. I walked into work this morning to find two things sitting on my desk. One was a very cool set of coasters from the British Museum that show London Icons, including Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the Eye, London Bridge, and City Hall. The second was my new favorite:

Update.

After a light circuit workout this morning, I decided to time myself on a 1500. As I said, I wasn't going to do it if I was going to be last based on the previous year's results. That meant all I had to do was swim under 27 minutes. Even with my not-always-reliable counting, I think I can do that. Based on what I believe was 1500 and with two equipment-fix breaks (like 5 seconds max), I came in under 24:30. Hopefully, by June 26, I will be even faster but that's good enough for me to enter my first swim meet since I was 13.

Spring Ritual.

One of the fantastic -- but incredible, in the true sense of the word -- aspects of my street is that there is either an actual or de facto covenant that requires people to plant the street with flowers. Even the USPS mailboxes have flower boxes on them. While I don't have a place that falls into that covenant, I do have a small amount of outdoor space on my balcony. M and I both feel some sort of obligation to make it pretty . . . that, and we both really like having flowers. So, for the second year, we did what is becoming our spring ritual.

Yesterday was one of those absolutely beautiful, this is why we suffer through Chicago weather, kind of days. It was a planting kind of day. (And, it seemed like half the city agreed with us on that one.) We got in the car and trekked up to Gethsemane Garden Center, which is a three block flower and plant extravaganza in Andersonville. I like to joke with my mom, telling her that she failed me as a mother because she knows a lot about flora and I do not (clearly, its her fault, not mine for not paying attention), so a garden center can be overwhelming to me. This year, though, I came prepared with a suggested list straight from my mom. We had some tricky cart-driving and trying to fit all of our flowers into the car without crushing them too badly but we were successful. I think I ended up with double begonias and impatiens, although I really don't know.

My favorite part of the ritual is our pit stop at McDonald's for a vanilla cone on the way home. My least favorite part of the ritual is the carrying the flowers in once we get home. At least this year, the soil was purchased earlier so it wasn't quite as bad. One huge, dirty mess later, I have flowers on my balcony looking pretty and happy. Sitting out on my balcony once it was complete, I felt like summer was here. (Mother Nature does not seem to share the sentiment, seeing as how our predicted high for tomorrow is 57.)

Sweet Victory.

I like to swim. If you believe my mom, I always have. Dove right in the deep end at age two and just dog-paddled around, happy as can be, while causing a mini-panic attack on deck based on the belief that I would drown. For a portion of my youth, I was a synchronized swimmer, spending something like 20 hours a week in the water. After I quit that, I didn't get in a pool for probably five years -- it took me that long to dry out from being water-logged.

These days though, I swim two or three times per week. I am a decent swimmer. No frills -- I rarely flip turn -- but I get it done. More importantly, I like it. I really enjoy swimming when the sun streams in the windows and hits the water. It just makes me happy. However, I have no idea what kind of swimmer I am compared to others -- speed, endurance, no idea. Compared to the other people that tend to swim at the same time as me, I'm Michael Phelps but they just learned to swim a year ago. Not really a great comparison.

This morning, my "swim coach" suggested that I consider participating in a swim meet in June. It would be a 1500, which is a distance I can swim without any problem other than counting it. My mind has a tendency to wander off when I swim -- I succumb to the rhythm of breathing, kicking and stroking, rather than remembering that I just swam 400 or whatever. I looked up the results from last year to see how fast I would have to be not to embarass myself. I don't think anyone but me cares about it but I just do not want to come in last. Aim high, right?

Considering participating in a swim meet brought me back to my very first meet as a synchronized swimmer at the age of nine. I took first place. My prize for winning was a one pound bag of M&Ms. There may have been a blue ribbon involved as well but I distinctly recall the M&Ms. Between winning and getting candy, it's no surprise I have spent so much time in the pool in my life.

Slightly.

At least among my lawyer girl friends, I've noticed a commonality: we are all readers. I don't mean that we are literate -- kind of a prerequisite for our jobs -- but that we all like to settle down with a good book sometimes. I'm not sure if it is a function of our profession's generally boring reading material, but most of us tend to read lighter books (e.g., chick lit) when we are reading for pleasure. We also all seem to enjoy a good Us Weekly too but that's neither here nor there. After talking to L, my friend who is currently living in Moscow (which is apparently, a sea of either men with entirely unacceptable behavior or ex pat's seeking 23 year old blonde supermodel russian women) I realized that our reading for pleasure has taken a slightly masochistic twist.

When you're over thirty and single, reading chick lit can be a little painful. The books tend to be pretty formulaic -- poor, sad, single, ugly duckling becomes a swan through the love of an unexpected man and lives happily ever after, only after surviving a few obstacles in the form of career, friends, or family -- but generally decently written. I can't decide if I like to read them for hope or out of masochism.

My friends, L and A, were on the host committee for the Chicago early screening of Something Borrowed. When they invited us to attend, the immediate response from two of them was "I LOVED the books." So, I decided to read the books (Something Borrowed and its sequel, Something Blue) last weekend so I could compare the movie to the book. Only three pages into the first one, I sent M a text complaining that it hit a little close to home. Main character reminiscing upon thirty about what she thought her life would be -- happily married and kidded with a job she loved -- compared to her single life toiling as a lawyer at a big firm "by definition, miserable." Now, I was not -- and am not -- miserable working at a big firm and I never was a dream about the future kind of kid. But, none the less, I can sympathize. That said, the books are really an enjoyable read. The movie screening was fun too, although I definitely preferred the book to the movie.

Change Is Good.

I'm a self-admitted creature of routine. Part of that routine for me is the gym. I joined my current gym about two and a half years ago and with that, became a morning worker-outer, something I never was previously. Because my gym routine means starting my mornings with a workout, I almost never shower at home. I haven't bought shampoo or conditioner in over two years. I almost never buy razors, shaving cream, or lotion (or water or apples, for that matter, since they too are provided by the gym).

I'm such a creature of routine that despite the fact that my Tuesday/Thursday morning class has become predictable, monotonous, and easy, even for me, I continue to go. I just don't know how to get ready in the morning at home anymore.

So you can understand that I was entirely mentally unprepared for an actual tough workout this morning. The usual instructor is apparently out of town and one of my favorite trainers is covering for her this week. It was an hour of sweaty, hard, work for once. Circuits of push ups/squats/sit-ups/lunges, shoulder presses/side steps/rows/bicep curls all with a band, push ups with a jump/hill climbers/bag push/jump lunges, and wood chops/sit-ups with a twist/reverse crunches/spiderman crunches all with a medicine ball. (I swear, it is a harder workout than it reads.) While I was tired, it was actually a really invigorating change from the routine. And, I will be mentally prepared for Thursday!

Inaugural Ride.

I took my bike for its inaugural ride this morning. It was fairly sunny, about 60, slightly windy, all around delightful. I rode it to the gym. It was such a nice day that my boxing class got moved outside.

Sadly, its maybe two hours later now and the temperature is dropping and the rain is moving in. I may not get to ride my bike again for a week at this rate but at least its inaugural ride was wonderful.

Anniversary.

I didn't realize it initially but yesterday was the one-year anniversary of my induction into the 30-Year Club. (Coincidentally, it was the one-year anniversary for M living in the building -- that anniversary for me is still some weeks away.) While I don't necessarily love all of the joys of home ownership, including the property taxes, repairs, and fear of depreciation, I don't regret the decision at all. I love getting a refund thanks primarily to buying my place. I love my neighborhood.

The only reason I did realize it was because my realtor sent me anniversary flowers. Pretty:

Potato, Po-tah-toe.

Easter is this Sunday. As you know, I'm not particularly religious so it is generally not a huge deal to me. However, this year, Sunday has more impact for two reasons.

First, it is the end of Lent and therefore the end of my self-imposed candy hiatus. I'm happy to report that my candy cravings did finally stop but it will be nice to have mints again and the occasional candy indulgence.

Second, M is hosting an Easter dinner. Normally, I at least consider going up to Wisco to visit my grandmother but she is having some teeth/mouth issues and is no shape for company or food. So, this Sunday I am contributing a potato dish and angel food cake to the dinner. The potato dish is this family favorite that I've been making (or helping to make) since I was a kid. I stopped at the grocery store last night to get the ingredients. I was so proud of myself for being able to get them off the top of my head.

That is, until I got home and realized that I forgot the potatoes for my potato dish! The main ingredient. And, then I talked to my mom and realized I forgot another ingredient and confused a third. Whoops.

s-NO-w.

I no longer have it in me to be polite about this. Or, to laugh it off, with a "no one moves to Chicago for the weather." I've lived here long enough to know that spring in Chicago is generally a Tuesday in April. (This year, it happened to be a Sunday that I was in Colorado.) But this:

This is bullshit.

It was bad enough that the ten day forecast does not break 50. Snow is just rude -- insult to injury. Further proof of how bad this is: Chicago set a spring snowfall record today.

Please, please, hurry, summer! I NEED the sun and warm.

Meathead.

I was in Colorado over the weekend visiting my family. I can sum up my four days in four words: eat, bake, eat, grocer, eat, cook, eat. I ate like it was my job. It was fantastic.

Thankfully, my parents have joined a gym and got me a guest pass. The gym is a normal gym, as opposed to my fancypants gym. What I forgot about normal gyms is that they have meatheads. (I am not sure why fancypants gym doesn't have meatheads but our equivalent is really just men standing around in the weightroom, not real meatheads.) If you've never met this gym character, let me give some helpful hints. They might be a meathead IF:

- They carry a gallon jug of water around with them;
- The armholes on their shirts are cut down to their waists;
- They wear a weight belt, just walking and standing around;
- Their workout is 90% standing, 10% lifting, no cardio;
- Of that 10%, 90% of the lifting involves swearing and grunting.

Now, I think I know what I'm doing generally speaking at a gym. Nonetheless, meatheads intimidate me a bit. I feel sorry for new-to-the-gym people. They also make me laugh a bit. But, only on the inside. I would not laugh in their face -- beware of roid rage.

Belated Birthday Bike.

For the first time in a few years, I actually had something that I wanted for my birthday: a bike. After borrowing M's cruiser last summer, I decided it would be really nice to have my own bike. Something about riding a bike is kind of child like fun. Throw in the added bonus of getting some exercise on the commute and the potential risk of life (depending on when and where you ride), and its definitely a more exciting way to get to work when the weather cooperates.

Miss Pearl, the cruiser, is a really easy and fun bike to ride. Unfortunately, she is a big girl and a little bit of a challenge to carry up and down stairs, especially if you're wearing work clothes. Also, you can only borrow your friend's bike for so long before you wear out your bike-welcome, you know? So, I stated my intention to buy a bike and my parents and grandmother happily gave contributions towards it. I knew generally what kind of bike I wanted (a hybrid -- light frame but not a road bike with their skinny little tires and clips as I have no intention of racing the bike and am not THAT good of a rider) and where to get it. I procrastinated buying it for a good while but the weather is definitely starting to warm up and I wanted to be prepared.

So, yesterday, after the gym, I went and bought my bike. (I knew I had to go directly from the gym, no passing go, no stopping for snacks, or I wouldn't do it.) It wasn't difficult. I told one of the employees my intended use, he showed me a couple, I test rode around a track (fun!), and got a whole bunch of accessories (lights, lock, water bottle cage, kick stand!) installed and was on my way home with my new bike. He is currently living in my closet. The weather is rainy (side note: with all the rain in the forecast, I'm considering building an ark, just to be safe. And, I expect A LOT of May flowers) so he has not been taken on his inaugural ride, unless you count M riding him in my living room.

I cannot wait. Just another reason that I want winter to be over already.

Lent-ils, update.

I just read a story that makes me want to quit my Lent endeavor. Well, not makes me want to quit but rather provides a very rational justification, at least in my own head. Check it out: http://ow.ly/4rbDR .

That's right -- people who eat candy and chocolate "tend to have smaller waists, weigh less and have lower body mass index (BMI) than those who don't indulge in these treats." I want a smaller waist, weigh less, and have a lower BMI.

Clearly, I need to re-think the health risk of maintaining my Lent resolution for the next three weeks.

P.S. I have considered that this report might just be a April Fool's joke but that seems too mean.