Delusions of Grandeur

Just a quick note from Chicago, where, today, it seems that delusions of grandeur are the story.

I listened to the Guv's impassioned speech before the Illinois Senate this morning (before they voted unanimously to impeach him.) He made some good points, I'll admit. First, the House was quite stupid to include in the Articles of Incorporation acts which occurred before this term. The Guv was right, that the people knew he had done these things; and we elected him anyway. The Senate, technically, shouldn't have the right to pretend that these issues are anything new.

However, when The Guv stands in the Senate and says "look, we've all got dirty hands" and "I was just trying to get medicine to sick kiddies" I think he understates, perhaps, what he was doing to make money for himself at the same time.

I'm glad he's been impeached. I'm glad we have a Governor who can govern. But I can't help but wonder if there were many, many mental health professionals watching today's show and thinking "dude, this guy compares himself to Ghandi and Martin Luther King, bring on the meds!"

On an a related note, it appears that our state's problem with Hype has made its way to Craigslist, where I found this picture posted earlier today:



I was LOOKING for a sofa table, for less than $10.00. (For my entry hallway). This came up, described as "Contemporary Sofa Table, Cream, Modern".

Is it just me, or is this an ironing board on a solid foundation?

As I said, Delusions of Grandeur.

Diaper Gold

Things I have learned in the last 24 hours, while visiting my friends who have an adorable 3 month old, named Jackson.

I am sure these are slightly different than the lessons my grandmother learned when she was raising children. And yet, do lessons about kids ever change?

1. A poor sense of smell can lead to undiscovered diapers, backs and onesies full of baby poo. This is fine if you're not responsible for keeping the baby happy, but not so fine if you're the one cleaning him up. And he might not find it enjoyable in either case.

2. Snow days are the same as non-snow days when you're on maternity leave.

3. Baby books that detail the milestones your child is suppose to achieve by a certain WEEK are the surest path to a nervous condition for new mothers. And I quote "I can't wait until he can roll over. Can he roll over? We're practicing rolling over."

4. Days spent with newborns are an anomoly of time, and space. One minute it's 8 a.m., the next minute you're wondering why Katie Couric is on the t.v.

That's it from Toledo, where the snow is deep, the air is cold, and the hot tub is is ready for visitors. Whoo Hoo!!!

An Early Wakeup Call

Lately I've been having a bit of a problem with insomnia (well documented in these pages). I fall asleep late, sleep late, and find half my day is gone and I'm strangely unmotivated. To combat the growing urge to pummel myself, I've started making firm plans, every other day or so, just to make sure I leave the building.

Saturday morning, I went downtown to meet up with a group of volunteers. We were headed to low-income neighborhoods across the city to prepare tax returns for those making less than $30,000/year (single) or $48,000 (double income). It's called LadderUp (formerly the Tax Assistance Program), and you can learn about it here.

Fortified with a large Diet Coke and a half a bagel, 12 of us wandered into a WIC (Women, Infants and Children) center operated on the near West side. The temperature was about 10 degrees - and the day was super sunny. When we walked in the doors at 8:30, there were about 30 people sitting in a waiting area upstairs.

They were a mix of Latino, Caucasian, and African American folks, some with kids, some without. Single and married, young and retired. And they were there because this program takes volunteers who have a background in accounting, finance, law, or really any profession, and uses them to prepare and file free tax returns. Why? Well, it ensures that even low-income families a) file and b) get the refunds they are entitled to.

I've done the program for a few years, and I have to say, it's damn rewarding to actually be the person who says "maam, your income last year was $12,000, and you're going to be getting a refund of $1400". Or something like that.

But my favorite story from Saturday morning was probably this: The second client that the team saw (and completed a return for) had two small children. He was an immigrant who was a naturalized citizen. He worked a job as a machine operator, and his wife stayed home with the children. He didn't make a lot of money - maybe $25,000/year. He was a nice Latino man who smiled easily and told me not to worry about rushing. I was assigned to review his return, and when he sat down, he helped us translate for the old man sitting next to him. When I apologized for taking so long, he told me not to worry - that he was just happy to get it completed.

He was bundled up in a long gray down coat, with a hat and scarf, and all of his papers in front of him. Because I am slightly prone to conversation (har) I asked him how long he had been waiting outside for the doors to open. He said he had been there since 5 a.m.

I stopped what I was doing then. "You were outside since 5?" I asked.

"No, I pulled my car up and waited in my car until about 6:30," he said. "But then people started coming and I had to wait in line because last year when I came, the line was cut off when I arrived."

He wouldn't have told me had I not asked. And he didn't say it like he was mad. He was just really glad someone was there to help. He was just thankful.

He got up, and waited outside for almost 3 hours, in ten degree weather, to take advantage of this service.

I don't know the last time anything I did felt as important. And frankly, I know that he was glad to help us help the guy next to him. So all in all, it was a pretty good exchange.

If you haven't had a chance to volunteer lately, I'd recommend it. If you're in Chicago, LadderUp will take your help anytime you can give it. And if you're somewhere else, well, dip your little toe in the land of philanthropy. You might find it does more to help you than the other guy.

I'm just saying.

25 Random Things About Me

I was tooling around on Facebook this afternoon when I saw a friend's post. She had filled out a "note" called "25 Random Things About Me". Her list had things like "my daughters dance better than I do" and "I married a man who cooks and he's realy good at it", and "I threw a triple header once in high school."

I was immediately obsessed with what kind of random factoids other people might find interesting about me - and sat down to write my list.

Forty minutes later, I had covered Space Camp, all of my undergraduate jobs, and the excessive amounts of shoes in my wardrobe. I was struck by what I wanted to talk about, which was travel, purchases, and the unique things I had done or acquired. And then, I immediately felt guilty.

It occurred to me: am I proud, interested, or amused by things in my life which are not the result of spending money?

So I've pondered. I've pondered all day. And I came up with a new list. One that talks about the things I love - and that don't cost a dime. As we wander through these tough economic times, I'm putting it out there - I'm challenging each of you - to list the things you have cared about, loved, experienced, or dreamed of - which didn't cost you a dime.

Call me an Oprah in training :)

My List of 25 Random Things About Me: Things I Love, Dream, Imagine, or Enjoy

1. Love: Dusk on Lake Michigan, behind Waveland Golf Course.
2. Enjoy: Teaching kids to do something - anything - they couldn't do before.
3. Love: Pacing the Chicago Distance Classic walkers - mostly first-timers, doing their first half marathon. Feel good moment of my year.
4. Love: Finding the perfect outfit - which already exists in my closet.
5. Love: Listening to Country Music. Yep. Love the Dixie Chicks.
6. Dream: Falling in love with a wonderful, kind, available man.
7. Imagine: How I would look with layered, long brown hair.
8. Dream: Of running for office someday.
9. Enjoy: Reading almost any mystery.
10. Love: Baking. Anything.
11. Dream: Of becoming the person who works out every morning.
12: Enjoy: Conversations with my sister and brother - we're all pretty different, but we share a sense of humor.
13. Love: Watching Bear Gryls - "Man v. Wild"
14. Enjoy: A good emergency. Don't ask me why.
15. Dream: Hiking the Bright Angel Trail to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.
16. Love: Hiking by myself and with friends.
17. Enjoy: Laughing my ass off with my friends over a good beer.
18. Dream: Of running an Olympic triathlon again.
19. Dream: Of someday publishing something. Anything.
20. Imagine: Life in the suburbs. Then I wake up screaming.
21. Enjoy: The ferry ride over the Ohio River every time I go home.
22. Enjoy: Shopping without buying.
23. Imagine: Self-cleaning bathrooms. Oh, wait, was that a dream?
24. Enjoy: Running. Short distances.
25. Enjoy: Finding the stars above me, anytime, anywhere.

What do you enjoy? What do you dream about? What do you imagine?

Been awhile? Give it a go :)

School of Rock

Many of you knew I was heading to Phoenix last weekend for the Arizona Rock and Roll 1/2 Marathon. You probably thought I was pretty smart, going to the sun and sand when it was -10 here in Chicago. And you'd be right! Our accomodations were fabulous, the weather was great, and my friends were pretty damn funny. Did I mention the hotel? The Arizona Biltmore (see that freakishly sunny picture to the left) was exactly what I needed after a few months of cold and snow.

Now the race, that, I could have skipped.

Suffice it to say, when surrounded by 13.1 miles of strip malls, waddling walkers, and that inside voice saying "hey, there's Dairy Queen!" it's not going to be the best day. I should have taken a guess it would be bad - after all, I got a speeding ticket on the way to the race (so we were going 75 in a 55...it could happen to anyone...right?); then ran over an already dead racoon; and finally took us to the start, when we should have been at the finish (long story involving shuttles and scared Korean women). All of this, by 6:30 a.m. I should have ordered a beer and gone back to the hotel.

In any case, the day was long, the feet were t-t-t-tired, and my mood was not so sunny when I finally crossed the finish line. And yet, it only got better! Because (hold your breath here)....they RAN OUT OF MEDALS!!!

I took the high road on Sunday. I said "great". I took the pre-printed slip of yellow paper which basically said "sorry, but the marathoners who didn't train switched races and took your medals". And I headed to the large parking lot in the sun to find my friends.

Of course, because I was looking like Rosie O'Donnel after a 1/2 block walk, I got to go meet some of Tempe's finest, when my friend Val got the vapors at the finish (sounds so much better than "almost passed out and threw up on all of us".) We grabbed a few of the cute men in blue, manning the John Deere, and asked if they would take her to the medic station. She doth protest "I've never done this before, not in 5 years of running" (and she hasn't), when one of the hotties turned and said to her "don't worry, you won't be embarrassed about this until tomorrow". I would have asked for a number, but really, I kind of stunk. Plus, Val was kind of pasty.

In any case, the rest of the weekend was hysterical and fun. Val recovered nicely. We found our friend Kelly can, indeed, get ready for a night out in less than 2 hours (but don't tell her boyfriend that); and that Lisa is the only one of us who follows those silly "recovery" plans. And we had a REAL good time on the Southwest flight home, surrounded by one real preacher (Father Tom from Old St. Pat's, who ran his marathon in 33 minutes longer than it took me to run my 1/2 marathon)...and a fake preacher (the lovely James who sat beside Val and made her talk the entire flight home, thus proving that airplanes can indeed be your worst nightmare); and a turncoat (that would be me, who helped 10 year old Matthew write his essay "Why the White Sox are better than the Cubs".

All in all, a great weekend. (Well, except for Kelly, who got stuck next to Matthew's dad, Stinky Gary, for the entire flight home, and almost bludgeoned us all upon exiting the plane.)

And if I've learned anything valuable, it's that it's really, probably time for me to hang up my long-distance running shoes. My back was screaming at me for a day after the race, and it just wasn't as fun as it used to be. So I'm hanging up my shoes - at least, for anything over 6 miles. Really, I am. When I called my mom to tell her I had learned from my mistakes, she said "well, you said you were quitting in May of last year". I told her I had learned. But, that if I forgot again, to just use a nearby 2X4 to hit me upside the head.

She then told me Ruby once claimed she could learn from her mistakes too. Apparently, Ruby was flummoxed by a can of paint, which she just could not get open. After examining her options, she flipped the can over, and opened it from the bottom with a can opener. One can only imagine the joy that little scene brought to the house....

Despite doing the best she could imagine under the circumstances, she realized that perhaps it wasn't the best way to attack that particular problem. And she vowed she'd never make that mistake again.

Perhaps running 13 miles on a regular basis isn't the best way to tackle the problem of getting in regular workouts. Which is why I'm heading back to Triathlons full time. Because really, how much trouble can you get in when you swim, bike, AND run?

Mom, why are you holding a 2X4?

Hope, Marching Bands, and A Great Yellow Dress

I've had the good luck to be home today watching the Inauguration festivities, and I've learned a few things.

First, there is NOTHING quite like listening to a speech that tingles the spine to make you think you can do something in this world. I flew home from Phoenix last night with a group of strangers who, by the end of the flight, were new friends. And we were all reminded that it doesn't take much to connect with people you don't know - a smile, a laugh, a glass of wine or a bad beer, a half marathon, whatever. But I think we all, acutely realized, in the last two rows of the plane, that there is something extraordinary about opening your minds and hearts to new people.

As I watched the festivities today, I couldn't help but realize that may be what we're all looking for. It's what's drawn 1.8 million people to the Capitol, to watch the new President take his oath - it's the hope that we can get to know our neighbors better, to fix our country one step at a time - to help one another out, and to believe that while good days are behind us, they are ahead of us too.

Anyway, that said, nothing quite says "fun" like the Grambling marching band. I mean, man - I would go anywhere to see them play - or, frankly, the Howard University Marching Band. I gotta find a way to get them in my alarm clock in the morning, because I would JUMP out of bed...

Finally, I gotta say, as a tall woman with curves of her own, I can only aspire to looking as good as Michelle does today. She is exactly what many young girls aspire to be - a successful, smart, educated woman, who can put on a fantastic outfit, mother some wonderful girls, and be part of a partnership that can withstand some pretty tough challenges. And if you don't believe that's inspiring, well, you just shouldn't talk to me for a few days...

I can't wait to see what comes next....

Sub-Zero

Going on day two here of sub-zero temperatures. Given that my last venture outside the friendly confines was Tuesday, I headed out today for some grub.

You would think venturing to a bagel shop a mere 6 blocks away would result in few life lessons.

Oh, how wrong you would be!

Lesson No. 1: When it's below zero, a funeral procession will stop for a pedestrian. (Er, yes, that would be me.)

Lesson No. 2: When you knock over a 32 ounce soda in your car and the contents begin spilling into your insanely expensive purse, fret not. At sub-zero, the liquid almost immediately freezes wherever it stands, and you can merely brush off all Diet-Coke related goodness from said leather in tiny frozen droplets. THANK YOU GOD.

Lesson No. 3: My coat collection is better than Sarah Jessica Parker's closet full of Jimmy Choos. Today's combination LL Bean 200 weight fleece and North Face Gore-Tex parka was windproof and warm. And at least 5 years old. (My old roommate could never understand why I had so many coats. THIS is why.) Granted, I was looking pretty gender-indeterminate in tis ensemble, but below the zero mark, no one really cares.

Gotta pack - the plane to Phoenix leaves in less than 19 hours!!!