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.

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.