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.

Lent-ils.

As of tomorrow, it will be 21 days of no candy as a result of my decision to observe Lent this year. I've always read -- and, more importantly, believed -- that it takes three weeks to make or break a habit. My primary purpose for observing Lent was to break my candy dependence. No more thoughts of sugar plums (or Twizzlers, or Skittles, or Reeses' pieces, or Snickers) dancing in my head.

Unfortunately, it seems that my candy habit is strong. So strong that I almost broke this weekend. I was walking through CVS and it took almost all my restraint to not supermarket-sweep the candy aisle. On the plus side, I guess I have more restraint than I knew.

Twenty-one down, twenty-five to go.

Scout.

M has been considering getting a dog for roughly a year now. She has had her dog name chosen since she was 7. She fairly regularly checked the Anti-Cruelty website for new arrivals and went by to visit several dogs. Despite that, I have to say that I think I'm at least partially responsible for yesterday's events.

On Saturday, we had talked about going bike shopping. I want to get a bike and M has a couple so was willing to help me out. But, I tend to get overwhelmed by options and procrastinate making such purchases (see, e.g., how long it took me to decide to buy a place). Anyway, I wasn't feeling it. Next weekend, for sure. I want to have my bike so I'm prepared when the weather FINALLY gets warmer.

After kickboxing on Sunday, we went to get some food, watch some hoops. I don't know what possessed me but I pulled out my phone and pulled up the Anti-Cruelty website. I guess I wanted a dose of cute puppy. And, we got it. We decided to go over and check them out in person. Once there, there was so much cute. Dogs are great.

M found herself drawn to one dog in particular. Took him out to see how he was. And, he was a nice dog. Calm but still playful and curious. Seven years old -- so, thankfully, no puppy crazy -- and housebroken. He was cute and has the potential to be even cuter once his hair grows back (he is a Lhasa Apso and hair got matted so they had to shave him). Even with his seasonally-inappropriate Christmas sweater on, he was the dog for M.

A mere two and a half hours later (sarcasm right there, it was ridiculous how inefficient and prolonged the process was given how cursory the interview appeared to be), we were walking him out the door. Despite the rude comments of some drunk guys about his sweater (and a very nice congratulations from a cop walking behind us), we got him from the dirt and grime of the shelter, to the clean and fancy of Trump, without problem. After buying out PetCo, it was off to his new home.

I left M for some time with her new dog but came back for dinner. As we were walking back from picking up food, we passed the same cop (such a small world Chicago can be sometimes) who asked how the new dog was doing! And, I'd say he's doing well. With the exception of his replacement shirt. We guessed wrong on what size he is. He kind of resembles a newly-out gay man rocking his first too-tight nautical shirt at Fleet week currently. Isn't he cute?

Lent.

I don't consider myself to be Catholic (or even religious really), although I technically am. Because it was important to my grandparents, my parents had both my brother and I go to Sunday school at a Catholic Church until we made it to First Communion. Somehow, I have managed to retain almost no knowledge from those years. Every Easter I get confused by Pontius Pilate's role and have to google Lent. It is probably no surprise that I rarely give anything up for Lent. But, last week, one of the nicest partners invited me to a Mardi Gras/pre-Lent lunch which got me thinking about Lent and giving something up.

That made me realize that I NEED to give something up: candy. I love candy. I actually think about Twizzlers. I generally try to exercise restraint but lately, I have slipped down the Twizzler-paved slope into harder candy. Apparently, Twizzlers are my gateway candy.
So,I am giving up candy for Lent. Forty-six days. The only reasonable thing -- to me -- to do was to mainline sugar for all of Tuesday. I had Twizzlers for breakfast, a mid-morning Skittles snack and maintained a high blood sugar with Werther's Originals all day. Thankfully, for my blood sugar and avoiding a day of diabetes, the Mardi Gras lunch that started it all was a delicious cup of split pea soup and steak salad. However, my mouth still feels the sugary effects of my last pre-Lent day this morning.

Damn You, Lulu.

I've been aware of Lululemon for years. Even if you don't know the name, you know what is is. It is the company that makes magical workout pants. Transformational. If you've ever seen a girl at the gym whose bottom half just looks incredible, I'd put money on the fact that she was wearing Lululemon.

Two things held me back from trying Lulu though:

1) The pants are very snug. I think that's part of the magic somehow. But, as my lower half is not necessarily my friend most days, I've never really wanted to have them encased and showcased.

2) Their clothes are not cheap. The most reasonable tank top is $39. The cheapest pair of crop pants are $68.

But, given my recent dedication to the gym, I actually NEED to replace most of my gym clothes. They are either too big or too worn out as I haven't bought any new gym clothes in probably two years.

So, I recently dipped my toe in the Lulu pool by buying a pair of crops and a tank top. It was the free shipping that convinced me to do it. And, it was magical. The clothes are so soft. So comfortable. They have such a following that their online stock sells out weekly (did I mention free shipping?). I actually started following them on twitter just to find out when it was replenished.

Today, I went to the store (technically, two stores, to find the right size) with M to get a baby present for someone at the gym. I ended up diving in headfirst into the Lulu pool. Now, I have three pairs of pants and five tanks. You do the math.

I Can See Clearly Now.

Or, at least as clearly as I ever did. I went back to the eye doctor today after two solid weeks in glasses and five different kinds of eye drops every two hours. My good patient-ness was rewarded with the okay to put my contacts back in. Optimistically, I had brought a new pair with me. I put them in immediately. Of course, they felt odd after having been in glasses for awhile.

That said, YAY!

No more constant headache or nausea. I have a full field of vision again. It's the little things. Eye doctor did suggest that I look into lasik or PRK. Seems like a prudent suggestion. I think the only teeny tiny negative to being back in contacts is that my morning routine just gained a few minutes by being able to wear eye makeup again.

Hurry!

I went to Naples, Florida for a couple days this week to assist at a panel at a conference. I do not have much to report about the conference itself: got some CLE, chatted with some people, went home.

However, I was reminded of just how wonderful the sun and the warm is. It was 78 degrees when I landed on Wednesday late afternoon. On Thursday, I worked outside in the sun for a couple hours. I was actually almost hot. On Friday morning before I had to check out, I spent an hour sitting out on the balcony, feeling the sun warm my hair. I drove with the windows down. It was really lovely.

Summer, please hurry back. I miss you.

Confused.

As I was walking south on inner Lakeshore Drive toward 900 North today, a couple stopped me and asked if I lived here. They immediately confessed that they weren't from here and were lost. They wanted shopping recommendations but said "we were just were at 900 North -- that's not for us!" So, I asked what type of shopping they were looking for instead. Response: "Target, KMart, Walmart!" I think they were either saying that the stores at 900 North were either not their style (they weren't fashion-forward folks) or not in their budget, but I'm not sure which.

Color me confused.

First, I'm pretty sure that Target is the only store with any presence in the city and those locations are nowhere near walkable from where they were.

Second, why bother coming to Chicago? I'm pretty sure they could find those in their home town. (While I don't think they were Canadian based on their accents, my friend pointed out to me that Canadians don't have Target. I'm willing to accept a Canadian exception to my story, as I do like Target.) Assuming it was a budget issue, I think window-shopping Michigan Avenue can be pretty fun. The style issue would explain a lot, but again, I just don't see why you'd want to go shopping in Chicago. It's not like the Michigan Avenue association tries to mislead people into thinking its a budget-friendly mile.

I ended up giving them some vague directions about walking west on Division and wandering south down State. I really don't think I was helpful but I just could not wrap my mind around it.

Ouch Updated.

When I went to the doctor this morning as a follow up to yesterday's visit, with little improvement in my eye, he was concerned that I had a corneal ulcer and referred me to a cornea specialist. I can't say that the hospital ever ocurred to me as a potential birthday celebration location, but there I was. And, I do have two small "infilatrates" close to my visual axis. As a result, I have been given the gift of hourly eye drops and daily doctor's appointments to make sure it improves and does not cross that axis (which would affect my vision).

They told me that I wear my contacts too long during the day and that probably was the cause of this. They also gave me given the backhanded compliment that 12-15 years of contact wearing without an infection was pretty impressive. I had to correct the doctor that today actually marked my 20 year anniversary, as I think my parents let me get contacts when I turned 12.

I have come away with a silver lining from this: my seven year cycle has been satisified on the very first day. When I was eleven, I had a kidney biopsy. When I was eighteen, shoulder surgery. When I was twenty-five, I was diagnosed with my rheumy. Now that I'm thirty-two, my medical malady has already been met. No more waiting and wondering. Shoe has dropped. Whew.

Ouch.

Yesterday, my eye felt irritated. This morning, it was light sensitive and flat out painful. I was at the eye doctor's office before they even opened. While it appears that I just have some cornea irritation (not sure yet if it is scratched), it hurts! As an extra bonus, I will have to wear my glasses for the next few days.

Full Weekend.

Beginning with Friday evening's Chinese New Year dinner and starting early on Saturday with Cycle for Survival, this weekend has been full of fun. After Cycle was done, our team went for lunch at Italian Village. M and I walked back to Trump, with a coffee pitstop, to drop off our gym shoes and shower. We went home for 15 minutes to change and then headed back out to Macy's for a black history month event. Eunice Johnson, of Johnson publishing, archived 9,000 of her couture dresses from the last forty years. Macy's had a few of these gorgeous dresses on display, along with cocktails. Johnson Publishing is responsible for Ebony and Jet. To celebrate, Macy's was taking pictures and doing mockups of you as an Ebony cover. So, M, A and I have our Ebony cover shot together.

From there, M and I needed a cheese plate break at Macy's wine bar in the Walnut Room. Such a deal -- $9 for a really great plate. After our snack, we did a little shopping. To combat the winter blues, we both got sundresses. Unsurprisingly, there isn't a huge demand for sundresses in Chicago in February so they were on sale. From there, we had tacos and bubbly at Theory.

Today, I awoke to the sound of a snowblower. I started my day by trying on my sundress again, hoping for warmth. (It didn't work immediately but by 1:00, it was a balmy 37. Not quite sundress weather but the first time above freezing in a long time, maybe in 2011.) Then, kickboxing and an early birthday brunch at Hub 51 with the girls. O even made me cupcakes! The combination of huevos rancheros and cupcakes left me with a food coma by 3:45. As a result, I spent the remainder of the weekend on the couch, watching the superbowl and doing nothing.

Cycle for Survival!

Saturday morning was Cycle for Survival. We joined 600 people spinning for four hours to raise money for rare cancer research. We were part of a five member team so we really only had to spin for about 45 minutes each over the course of the event. M LOVES these types of things so she brought the enthusiasm, beginning at 7:30 am and not ending until noon. When we weren't on the bike, we were singing, dancing and cheering our rider on. We probably annoyed the people in our immediate vicinity initially. Especially considering some people rode four hours straight. Those people were tired and didn't have cheerleaders. We would hope on the bike, fresh legs, and have four people cheering us on. But, we had a blast and ultimately got other people to join our fun. So much so that we were named as the best cheerleaders.

The spin instructors were awesome. The energy in the room was fantastic. There were cancer survivors present who were inspiring. The only real negative is that it did not smell good in there by hour two. By hour four, it was super smelly, hot and sweaty. Even that had a positive though -- my shower when it was over was easily the best of 2011.

Year of the Rabbit!

Thanks to O, for the second straight year I celebrated Chinese New Year with a super fun dinner in Chinatown. Last year, we resolved that we were going to try the non-Western menu this year. That menu included abalone and shark fin soup, among other delicious dishes. While we all thought that (a) shark fin soup was illegal and (b) we would receive imitation shark fin, we were wrong on both counts. I didn't love the soup -- too strongly fishy for me -- but fun to try. Even though I knew that the dinner was a marathon and not a sprint, trying to pace myself, I still was so full that I couldn't really eat a couple of the last courses. But, what I did eat was a nice spicy variety.

Everyone loves this dinner so much that people make dietary exception. Two people have instituted Chinese new year exceptions that allow them to eat meat and try everything served. It's a great combination of people, food, fun and a real character of a server.

One tangentially related lesson we learned: no cabs in Chinatown. Not a problem though: the red line took us home. Fitting given the importance of red in Chinese culture.

Snow Day!

Yesterday was my first official snow day since high school. I suspect it might be my last, at least as long as I live in Chicago.

Chicago likes to think it is tough. (And, don't get me wrong, Chicago weather is tough. The snow and the cold are like Chicago voting: they come early and often. Winter is a long-lasting season. No one moves here for the weather. People just are a little hardened to winter. It takes a lot for us to freak out.) So far this winter, the East Coast has been battered by snow storms. I think Chicago has some snobbery when reading about those storms -- as in, it's just snow, people. We'll show you how it is done.

Until we got the third largest storm in Chicago history. The official tally was 20.2 inches of snow at O'Hare. M and I left work early on Tuesday. In the 15 minutes it took to get home, the roads went from "not bad" to "blizzard." They shut down Lakeshore Drive. Some poor people were stuck on it for nearly 15 hours. They say that the cost for storm cleanup is going to be $100 million.

While it was only 3:30 in the afternoon, we decided that there was no time to waste in watching movies and having some blizzard cocktails. Around 7, we considered moseying about four blocks to get some dinner. Then, we decided that we had nothing to prove and that the mature and smart decision was to stay in.

Good thing we did. About the time we would be returning home, this happened:



About 9:00 pm, we got the official word that the office would be closed on Wednesday. A perfect snowday ensued. I slept in. Cleaned my place and did laundry. Once the snow was mostly stopped around noon, M and I took a walk in the neighborhood. The drifts were high and the streets mostly unplowed and undriven. There were the occasional magical heated sidewalks that looked like nothing happened but generally, it was quite a scene.

Thankfully, our local bar was open and serving food. We stopped at CVS on our way home to get some snacks in preparation for a planned afternoon on the couch. We also stopped to visit our friends, and neighbors, L and A. By the time we actually headed home, there was already significant improvement in the streets.





While we had a brief hope for Snow Day, the Sequel, when Chicago Public Schools closed for the second straight day (virtually unheard of -- the last time there was a snow day before this was 1999), the improvement in the roads indicated there was a slim-to-no potential. So, we made the most of the remainder of our snow day: did some pro bono work (reading some extremely graphic love letters written to our client), watched A LOT of television, ate some sugary treats, and made dinner and dessert (who knew that a "just add water" brownie that only needs 45 seconds in the microwave could be good? Not me. Of course, the copious amount of ice cream we covered it in might have had something to do with that).

The only real negative to our 1.5 days off due to snow is that it felt like Sunday night again last night.

Fingers Crossed.

So, as I've said repeatedly, if my horoscope ever indicated that I should buy a lottery ticket, I would do it immediately. Well, today happens to be lottery ticket day anyway BUT my horoscope is this:

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Many of you are going to benefit from a serious chunk of change suddenly coming your way. This might already have happened, or it might happen right now or might happen almost immediately. Whatever it is — it’s good. It could be cash or gifts or both. Ka-ching!

In my optimistic view, that clearly dictates and results in a winning lottery ticket. Fingers crossed, seeing as how the MegaMillions currently has a $330 million jackpot.

2011.

Three days in and so far so good.

I eased out of 2010, working half days, working out, and taking naps. New Year's Eve was pretty low-key considering that I did go out. M's parents were in town to celebrate with her. I tagged along (tough to keep up with that long-legged family when you're trying to walk and of the short-legged variety) to Butch McGuire's. Given that its on Division, I expected it to be kind of insane. We got there punctually, snagged the ideal table, and generally enjoyed ourselves as the place slowly filled up. Thankfully, it never reached insane levels. We stayed for the countdown and by 12:05, we were walking back toward home.

I eased into 2011. Day 1 was as low-key as Day 365 of 2010. I watched the Rose parade, watched some football, tried to get my mitts fixed (but alas, the nail place had closed early), worked out and met H and T for a drink. Between the workout, doing the tri-bath-lon (sauna, steam, shower), and having a couple drinks, I was in the Trump for nearly six hours that day! Time flew -- there are definitely worse places to spend six hours.

Today is the first official work day of 2011. One of the tough things about a new year when you bill your time is starting at 0. You have a sympathy for Sisyphus this time of year. Back when I was a baby lawyer, someone told me that they always tried to work on New Year's day. At the time, I thought that was odd but I've since adopted it. I always do something -- even if it is just a tiny bit so that I start the official beginning of the work year in the black. I'm currently +3.3 and the day is nice and quiet.

Easing into 2011 and I can't complain.