maggie's world

And ... scene.

2012-02-15T14:54:00.004-06:00

So last night I did something different.

It was Valentine's Day, one of those rite-of-passage days for me each year, because six years ago I finally decided to stop sitting around waiting for my then-husband to look up from his instant-message-chat with his girlfriend (yes, you read that right) and notice that I'd come home from work. On Valentine's Day 2006, I loosened my grip on my hope of saving my marriage and started trying to be happy.

Six years later, I barely recognize that girl. So it should come as no surprise that the person I am today does a lot of things differently. For instance, when Maggie 2.0 was asked to participate in a one-night-only production of "Love Letters" with Liberty Town Productions in Libertyville, I jumped at the chance. For one night (and a few rehearsals) I was able to flex my dramatic muscles, and it felt awesome.

It was amazing to get back on stage in this capacity. I've sung a little over the past few years, but I haven't tapped into the actor within in a long time. I think it went well; I know I feel good about it.

Me and my awesome co-star and director, Scott.

I'm humbled and pleased by the audience reaction, and I couldn't be more proud of what we were able to share with our audience. People were moved, I think, by the story we shared. Our characters read the letters they've sent one another over the course of about a 50-year friendship. It's easy to see myself in some of the letters, and I think everyone can relate, in one way or another, to one of the characters. At least that's my hope. At the end of the evening, when Scott and I took our bows, that's how it felt.

Will there be more opportunities to perform? I don't know. It takes something pretty special to get me out there. But when everything comes together, it's like lightening in a bottle.

And I can't think of a better way to spend a day dedicated to love.

Rituals

2012-02-01T13:36:00.002-06:00

Yesterday - roughly 24 hours ago, in fact - I began to feel under the weather. Personally, I far prefer being above the weather, thank you very much, but for the moment, it seems to have brought the hammer down on yours truly. Which is fine. I mean, really, it's been a long time since I've been sick. So I'm going to just let it run its course, which hopefully won't take too long.

But while I'm feeling crappy, I get to do things I don't usually do. See, I have these "sick day" rituals that serve as a little treat for the low days. I drink tea from a pretty cup - one that I only use when I'm sick. I add eucalyptus oil to my bath water. I kick my usual good habits up a notch, I drink orange juice, and I let myself get copious amounts of rest.

I have lots of rituals, and it's a big part of what makes me ... well ... me. Before every race, my friend Linda and I take a "long arm" photo of ourselves. When I have a particularly bad day at work, I take a shower as soon as I get home, to "wash the day away". And when I make myself a particularly fancy dinner (hey, it happens) I eat off the good china. It's those little things that mark moments, that make them special.

So weird as it sounds, I'm going to enjoy my cold. I'll work through it, and hope it moves along quickly, but while it's here, I will acknowledge and respect it.

And drink tea out of a pretty cup.

Making the best of it

2012-01-22T17:28:00.003-06:00

So I noticed that I haven't posted much lately. Maybe you did, too. And there's a reason for it, although it's pretty lame: I don't have a whole lot good to say.

Work has been very stressful. I'm doing my best, but still ... it's a difficult situation. So there's not a lot of time for creative thought or focusing inward, in order to have something meaningful to say. It's a sort of isolating feeling, too, because although I know I have a lot of friends and family who support me in many ways, I do feel like I'm sort of going it alone.

So, I just keep plugging away, and making the best of the moments that don't suck. Like right now, I'm trying to type this while the cat rests his head on my hand. It's sweet, and it gives me comfort. It really is the little things, right?

If you need me, I'll be focusing on the stuff that gets me through. Whether it's the perfect grilled cheese sandwich or finishing up the laundry, life is good ... even when the crappy moments are more prevalent than usual.

Happy New Year

2012-01-02T10:47:00.003-06:00

Yes, it's been awhile.

Life has been incredibly busy (and wonderful; can't deny that) and time has been scarce. Lots of celebrations, a couple wonderful trips, and the occasional moment to rest - that's pretty much been the last couple of months in Maggie's World.

I am not complaining, just explaining.

I've visited Tucson, Orlando and San Antonio. I've spent time with friends old and new. I've reunited with the family folks to whom I'm not related but share a strong connection. I've eaten breakfasts, lunches and dinners in the company of amazing friends. I've run. I've rested. I've made gravy and pie. I've bid farewell to friends relocating to the earth's far corners and I've curled up next to the fire with friends I don't see often enough. I've gone to church, avoided the mall and still managed to find a few perfect gifts. I've made bread and tamales, I've danced, I've waved to Santa and I've dressed like him, too.

All of this is to say that yes, it's been busy. But it's been awesome. My heart is full. I am blessed to have brought 2011 to a close with the comforting knowledge that I did my best, pushed myself when it mattered, and accepted as much love - if not more - than I gave.

Here's to 2012. May our paths cross again before too long.

I'm still here!

2011-12-12T22:16:00.003-06:00

Life, as often happens around the holidays, has run away from me.

Actually, I ran away ... to Disney World, with my dad and two of my sisters. It was delightful, the perfect vacation. However, I returned to a rather frenetic pace of social shindigs and holiday gatherings, then threw myself back into work and working out, and I'll be leaving town again this weekend.

I am not complaining; in fact, I'm quite happy. But, it does mean that the blogs take a backseat.

Never fear; I shall return, for a snippet or two here or there. Meanwhile, have a good chuckle at this photo of me and Dad on the plan home from Orlando. I swear, he has this same look on his face in every photo from the trip. Good thing I know he loves me!

Never too old

2011-11-29T11:37:00.004-06:00

I sent off a quick e-mail to a friend today, and it included this line: "You are never too old to go on vacation with your dad."

The line was in reference to the fact that, on Sunday, I leave for Disney World with my father and my sister Pat. Next week, Jenn will join us. Because, let's face it, there's nothing better than being in the Happiest Place on Earth with The Man.

But as I wrote the words, the truth of it sorta settled over me. "You are never too old ... "

I'm living proof of not mistaking age for maturity, or the number of years I've been on the planet as a reason to stop, or slow down, or to wind down in the least. No, actually, as I rack up points on my Frequent Birthday card, I seem to actually ratchet up the intensity of life. Because you are never to old. To discover friends who become family. Take up a new habit, or get rid of an old one. Try a new hairdo. Get an education. Trust in your dreams. Play in the sand. Eat cereal for dinner. Giggle. Try your best and fall, then get back up and keep trying.

It's what kids do all the time. And there's no reason, other than giving up, to ever stop.

Blogger is stupid, but I am thankful

2011-11-23T13:03:00.002-06:00

I had this beautiful Thanksgiving post written, and Blogger crashed. Usually it auto-saves. This time? No. Poop on you, Blogger.

It will have to be enough for you to know that I am grateful for lots of things, and I have lots of wonderful Thanksgiving memories. Like eating at our neighbors' house (mostly dessert) when I was a kid and the Great Peacock Rebellion of 1991. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and I am so ready for it to be here.

The days are becoming darker, grayer and colder here in Chicagoland, and I'll be putting my best efforts toward not being a big jerk about it. Please be patient; this "not losing my shit every winter" thing is new to me.

There's lots of travel on my horizon in December, so perhaps I'll get my sunshine elsewhere. I will update when I can, and when I have something worthwhile to say.

In the meantime, I wish you a very happy Thanksgiving. May you be surrounded with love.

And pie.

Southwest weekend

2011-11-17T14:34:00.006-06:00

Unless you've only recently crawled out of bed after a week-long nap, you know that I spent last weekend in one of my favorite places in the world: Tucson. Autumn is the perfect time to visit the Southwest. You never know what you're gonna get, weather-wise, but it's generally guaranteed to be a little warmer than home (and this year, it was only just a little!) and always sure to provide amazing cuisine. The place I stay also provides a whole lot of love.

Sometimes the canine kind. This is me with my desert dog, Pork Chop. I love him. (As if you couldn't tell.)
I arrived late on Friday night. My flight landed at about 10 p.m., and my best friend Mike picked me up at the airport. There is just something about being met at baggage claim by someone who loves you that just makes my heart glow. If it hadn't been late, there would have been three people meeting me - Rae and Kaylee, too - but a hug from Mike was enough to make me tear up.

The desert, for the record, smells amazing. Being there, though it's far away, always makes me feel at home.

Saturday morning dawned bright and early, even though I slept through my alarm. Thankfully, Racheal woke me up and pointed me toward Sahuarita and their pecan festival ... which included the 3.7 mile Nut Run I was registered for. Awesome run. Wanna read more? Click here.

That's me and Rae, pre-race. We are adorable. The race itself wound through the Green Valley Pecan Orchard. Yes, this photo is blurry; I was running, for heaven's sake! It was an absolutely beautiful run.

Look! A clear photo! Mountains in the distance; just beautiful.This is my sweet niece, Kaylee, on a pony ride. I find her heartbreakingly adorable.

Kaylee, feeding bunnies.
Mike, feeding a donkey.

Moo. Cute, and delicious.Rae, Kaylee and Mike on our hayride. This was a REAL hayride. Pulled by big horsies, through the pecan orchards.

Dude in a real Stetson driving the horsies.

Did I mention that Kaylee got her face painted?

One of the few photos I have of Mike where he's not making a face. He looks sweet and thoughtful here; this is how I actually know him.

Big horsies.

Kaylee wants to be a farmer when she grows up. She also wants to marry two boys. Mike and Rae are in for a world of hurt when The Girl grows up.After the pecan festival, we went out for Mexican food. Carrrrne asada. YUM.

I think my dog looks like Walter Matthau.

We had an awesome visit, but as usual, time passed too quickly. We spent the day Sunday lazing around the house, as Mike had caught a bit of Death Plague and was not feeling well. We used that as an excuse to stay in our jammies until afternoon (when the Trianos took me, Kaylee and Rae out to lunchfast. It's so nice meeting old friends for the first time!) and just hunker down together. I like being the person who comes to visit and just becomes part of the household. I don't need to be entertained; I just need to be family. That's nice.

Monday morning came too fast, and I headed out for a final desert run. I took Pork Chop with me, and loved the feeling of running in this beautiful place, with my buddy at my side.

The view along my run.

More mountains, in the distance. Perfect blue sky.

To say that I miss that place, those people ... that's an extreme understatement. But it's nice, too, to spend time effortlessly, knowing that soon we'll all be together again.

Martha, Laverne and Shirley

2011-11-11T10:55:00.003-06:00

Okay, my friends ... first of all, last night I got to meet this woman: Martha freaking Stewart

It was like having a visit from the Mother Ship. Yes, I am a bit starstruck/awestruck/giddy. Martha talked about her new book (at 432 pages, it also makes a nice weapon) Martha's Entertaining and gave the audience some wonderful advice, both for in the kitchen, and in life. So I guess I'll be determining what will be my "signature" dish (I don't think grilled cheese sandwiches fit the bill) is, and perfecting it.

The highlight of the evening, though, was spending time with my sister, Jenn. She is freaky awesome. I love her. Letting the two of us loose in Chicago's Standard Club was truly like an episode of Laverne and Shirley. You should have seen us in the bathroom; you'd've sworn it was the first time we've seen indoor plumbing. (And that was before Jenn accidentally washed her hands with mouthwash.)

Jenn and I, in the opulent loo at the Standard Club.

We had a blast. Between dining on "heavy hors d'oeuvres" (which I'm sure resulted in a heavy hindquarter) and sucking down as many pomegranate cosmos as possible, we enjoyed every moment of the evening. (Could someone please tell me what kind of cheese that was?)

We noshed on olives and cheeses and breads and dried fruit, pumpkin soup, mini tuna burgers, crab cakes, these little salmon bites with herbed cream cheese ... and that was before dessert. Lemon tartlets, tiramisu "shots", brownie bites ... sweet mother of God.

We ate. We laughed. And then, we got in line to meet Martha. Completely gracious (and with great shoes), Martha greeted us with appreciation, even after a full evening of talking and signing books. We said our hellos and our thank-yous in a matter of seconds, and were on our way, back to the real world. Back to bagels and coffee from a paper cup, instead of cocktails and finger sandwiches.

But as I rode the train back to The Heights, I couldn't help but think, yeah, Martha probably thought we were the coolest people she met all night.

Either that, or she wondered how Penny Marshall and Cindy Williams got in without her knowing.

Oh, brother

2011-11-10T08:30:00.002-06:00

If you're lucky, you are born into a family that loves you for who you are, nurtures your interests, and expects great things from you, all the time.

If you're really lucky, you meet someone along the way who isn't related to you, but becomes family simply by virtue of doing all that stuff, even though he's not technically family.

I am really lucky.

This weekend, I am headed to Tucson to see my brother Mike. It's confusing, to say the least, that I have not one but two brothers named Mike. The first is my twin, my womb-mate, my brother from my actual mother. The second - Mike Rice - I discovered when I was 28 years old, in Charleston, Illinois, while this late-blooming lunatic was in college at Eastern Illinois University. My friendship with Rice was instant. Our connection, unbreakable. Just like family. As we "grew up" together, I somehow became added to his actual family. Their unconditional love extended to me, as if I'd grown up in that old Victorian house in Jacksonville with the wraparound porch and chicken & dumplings in the kitchen.

I was family. I am family.

Mike and I have been there for each other through life's ups and downs. Weddings, funerals, babies (Mike and Rae's, not mine!) and break-ups (mine, not Mike and Rae's) ... Mike has been there, as has Racheal, his wife (but she was my friend first).

We are the very definition of family.

So it's easy to understand why I simply cannot wait to get on a plane tomorrow night and make my way Southwestward. I go because I love them, and they love me. I go, because when I am with Mike, Rae and their daughter Kaylee, I feel like I am at my very best.

You know that scene at the end of the movie "Love, Actually", in Heathrow airport, when everyone is meeting up? At first, it's all the principals from the film, and it's all romantic and crap. But then, it becomes about all different kinds of love - hugs between parents and children, old friends, families.

I disembark from the plane in Tucson and live my own version of that movie.

In less than 48 hours, I will see my brother, my dear friend and sister-in-law, and my niece. I will soak up the love. So time, if you could pass quickly, that'd be great. Thanks.

An open letter to my physical self

2011-11-06T15:39:00.005-06:00

I just wanted to say thank you.

The human body has an infinite capacity to forgive you for not treating it particularly well. For years, I took care of my health in a way that could barely be called taking care of my health. And then, yesterday, I had this turning-point sort of day.

Completing a 15K (that's 9.3 miles to those who don't play in the Metric pool) is not something that's generally done by someone who is unhealthy, or someone who doesn't take care of herself. Running that distance - regardless of pace - is not something that's done by someone who mistreats her body. No, this is the sort of thing that's done by athletes. By runners.

I am one of those people.

So, to my feet, thank you. Thank you for carrying me through the beautiful city of Chicago on a perfect fall morning, for continuing to propel me forward even when you started to hurt. For keeping me upright after the race, so I could walk through the party area and get to the main event - the chocolate! And for the record, to my black toenails, I'm sorry I did this to you again. But really, toenails are for sissies.

To my right Achilles, thank you. Thank you for healing, for standing strong through injury and recovery. It's been a tough road, and I still need to treat you gently and with respect. I am so grateful that you allow me to run. There were moments, earlier this year, when I was convinced it was over. But you rose to the challenge, and you allowed me to work my own little miracle. To go from fat girl to 15K runner in just a few years is pretty amazing. I could not have done it without your cooperation.

To my knees, thank you. I know you didn't like the stairs this morning; I know you still feel every step we took together over the 9.3 miles. I promise to keep doing what you need to stay healthy. Together, we will take off the remaining excess weight. I think we'll both be happier then.

To my legs, thank you. I didn't know how strong you were! After a nice bout of stretching this morning, you groaned only a little and seemed to ask, "what's next?" You have adapted pretty brilliantly to this new activity. You still jiggle, and you probably always will, but I think that's just your way. Under the jiggle, though, there's some badass muscle. You, legs, are pretty amazing. How 'bout a kickbox class to celebrate?

To my core, thank you. Poor abs, you aren't sure what's up, are you? I really had to convince you to work at around mile seven, when my lower back started talking to me. You had to step up and hold it together. You did a great job. We have some work to do, you and I, but you came through like a champ.

To my arms, thank you. Running is pretty easy on you guys, but you kept great rhythm, and you were awesome at waving to people along the way. And without you to hold my iPod, it would have been a long race indeed!

To my heart, thank you. Thank you for giving me the strength and endurance to make it through a long run. But most of all, thank you for opening up and allowing me to embrace and love my running community. Because of you, I have run alongside some of the most beautiful, talented athletes. I have been supported, encouraged and inspired by many more, because somewhere along the way, you decided my life should not be a solitary one. I'm not kidding at all when I say I owe my every physical accomplishment to you.

To my shoulders, thank you. Thank you for bearing my worries and holding up my big head, and for reminding me to stand up straight. Running posture is hard!

Finally, to my mind, thank you. For quieting all the bullshit, for letting me get outside of you and into the moment, for trusting in my ability and my training. Thank you for realizing I needed to change and then ... slowly ... allowing it to happen. Thank you, too, for that amazing runners' high thing. I enjoyed endorphin-induced euphoria pretty much all day yesterday. That alone is enough to get me back out there.

Needy and weak

2011-11-02T14:30:00.002-05:00

I've been a little whiney lately. Life sometimes hits rough patches; I get that. But a recent conversation with a friend made me realize something sorta earth-shattering for my wee little mind.

I've been needy lately. I've been weak lately. And every time - and I mean every time - I had a weak moment over the past few weeks, someone has been there to share their strength. Every time I had a need - and again, every time - someone has been there to fill it. It's as if the universe has conspired to show me that it's okay. The world will not stop turning simply because I cannot handle everything on my own. In fact, by allowing myself to be weak, I give someone else the opportunity to be strong for me.

Needy and weak, then, is not necessarily a bad thing. Being where we are on any given day, in any given moment, is precisely where we're meant to be. And if that happens to be a day or a moment in which we're not feeling our best, maybe it's someone else's opportunity to rise to the occasion and lift us up. It's not easy to allow it to happen, but I'm learning that my greatest strength is the collective strength of me + those who love me. In that, I cannot fail.

Breathe

2011-10-31T11:10:00.003-05:00

One of my yoga instructors has a tattoo on her arm that reads, in her own handwriting, "Just remember to breathe." Good advice, indeed.

Without breath, we really have a whole lot of nothing. And sometimes, the universe conspires to teach us to slow the hell down and breathe. Take, for example, last Saturday. I began the day with a run - the 5K Monster Dash along Chicago's lakefront. To run, ya gotta breathe. For me, running takes a great deal of effort, so it's a constant forward motion to a rhythm in my head that pretty much goes, "pick it up, put it down" to my feet and "in ... out" to my breath. My footsteps and my breath join in a cadence that keeps me going, and the run becomes an exercise (pun intended) in connectedness.

So imagine my shock when, a mere 10 hours later, I found myself in Charleston, IL, having yet another emotional freak-out and forgetting to breathe.

I'd made the journey back down to pick up the Jeep after it had been repaired, and I was so excited to get back behind the wheel of my baby. It started up like a champ, and then I tried to drive it. Sluggish and noisy, especially on corners; there was no way it was drivable. Commence meltdown.

My poor friend Annie, who had driven me down to Charleston. My poor dad, on the other end of the phone. My poor brain, a pool of moosh as my worst fears seemed to become real. Moments passed. I drove around the parking lot, Annie waiting patiently, Dad listening across the miles, in hopes that all would be well. I finally decided I would just go stay with friends for the night and figure it out in the morning, letting Annie go and crying on the phone to Dad. As I journeyed through the one-way streets of Charleston, my dad suggested I try the emergency brake.

In a flood of relief, I found the lever, pushed it to the off position, and all was perfect.

If only I’d remembered to breathe.

The whole event is an important reminder of two things. First, if I’d just slowed the heck down – mentally, emotionally – perhaps I would not have panicked. Perhaps I would have noticed the brake and kept peace in my heart. Perhaps neither is true; perhaps I still would have jumped to conclusions, but I could have done so a tiny bit more rationally, I suppose. I’m quite highly strung, in case you hadn’t noticed. Perhaps I can work at being less so.

Secondly, I was reminded – for the second time in as many weekends – of my intense good fortune when it comes to people who love me. No one would have left me stranded. No one would allow me to endure whatever was wrong with the car in an isolated state, regardless of how it felt in the moment. And even if the worst were true, I was in a place I love, with access to people who would care for me through whatever came next. There was really no need or point to the meltdown.

And so, all’s well that ends well. I spent Sunday with my girlfriends, surrounded once again with the absolute truth that is my life: I may feel alone, but I am not. I just need to breathe, and remember that.

Someone saved my life

2011-10-27T15:43:00.004-05:00

I feel like this is one thing I have to do, I have to write, I have to allow to be real ... in order to let it go.

If you were to use the search function on this blog to find the name "Brian," you'd see that this guy is predominantly featured during some of my darkest times. He saved me from myself when I was going through the divorce, showing up when I needed something, someone to cling to. He was my rock. He was beautifully intuitive, knowing what to do or bring or be when I was at my lowest.

He provided me friendship when I was at my least lovable. He saw me through a horrible time. But now, he's just gone.

The last time I saw him was a few days after I had my gallbladder removed in July of 2009. He came over and made me waffles, once again sensing what I wanted most and then providing it. After that, he stopped taking my calls.

It breaks my heart, because he doesn't know this version of me. He has never met Maggie the Runner, or Maggie the Jeep owner. He doesn't know that I've become someone I (generally) really like. He doesn't know that I am, for the most part, healed.

Ours was never a romantic relationship. Well, except for that one time, right before I left EIU. Or that one summer day on the lawn at Rae's apartment. Or on Mother's Day 1997. Other than that, we were best friends. I thought he would always be in my life.

But he's not. So now, even though ever time Elton John's "Someone Saved My Life Tonight" comes on the radio, it's Brian I think of, I have to let him go. I have to accept that he left my life for a reason, even though he never said anything ... he just disappeared. I have to find a way to believe that it isn't something I did, or something I lack, that drove him away, because the wondering has made me crazy for two and a half years.

I have to be okay with being let go, and let my friend, go, too.

But I will always have memories of picnics in the park, great music, 1 a.m. trips to Denny's and that one day when he wouldn't let me go home to watch my husband pack up his belongings and leave me. I wish things were different, but I am eternally grateful that, when he could be my friend, he was very very good at it.

Coming Home

2011-10-23T19:54:00.002-05:00

There is something special about Homecoming Weekend at Eastern Illinois University. It's a time for families of a sort to come together. Groups of friends who became family while in school gathered around the dinner table. Groups of Journalism students and their teachers with one common goal - tell the truth, and don't be afraid - gathered over bowls of chili. All of us, everyone who calls EIU "home" in one way or another, gathered near the stadium to swap stories, quench our thirst, and celebrate our oneness.

I haven't been back for Homecoming since 1999-ish. It was a different time, and I was a different person, in many ways. But even then I'd begun to build amazing relationships with people who, frankly, are so much more awesome than I. (Even after all this time, they've not figured it out.) So this trip was a little bittersweet. Going back without Mike and Rae, without Shamie, without Vana or any of our old newsroom crew pretty much ensures that something will be missing. But honestly, it was all okay, because of the people who were able to be there. Old friends, new friends, knitting together to create a beautiful blanket that warmed me all weekend long.

So when the going got tough, and my car refused to make the trip home, I shouldn't have been surprised by the outpouring of offers to assist. This morning, I actually thought to myself, "If one more person is nice to me, I am going to lose it!" But it didn't stop. From the moment the car decided not to go, people made it better. I was shown that, in no uncertain terms, life is good, even if this particular moment in time lacks something. Whether it was a perfectly starry night, having someone work through all the details in a way that made sense, sharing cinnamon toast and coffee shared, hysterical laughter when talking with my father and trying to figure out how the heck to get the rest of my week to function, or a myriad of other things that brought me from a major meltdown last night to the relative relaxation of this moment, I have learned one thing this weekend:

I am loved.

It's difficult to wrap my head around sometimes, and I don't mean this to come from the po' me corner of the world. Truth is, I can be a thoughtless bitch sometimes. I have done things, said things that hurt the people I love. It was never my intention, but I know beyond a shadow of doubt that some of the people who reached down to lift me up today have not always been cared for by me in the same way.

This is what forgiveness feels like.

And then there's the woman I met on Friday. Becky is a mutual friend of the Poulter family, with whom I stayed over the weekend. I can't explain how this happens, but sometimes I meet people and within a few hours, we sync up. (It happens a lot in Charleston, to tell you the truth.) And that happened here. Which is a damn good thing, because I'm pretty sure she saved my sanity at least twice in the last 24 hours.

This is what being in the right place at the right time feels like.

I'm not sure whether it happened when I dialed up my photography professor at 11 p.m., or when I sat on the sofa feeling foolish and pathetic while the tears flowed, or when I lay snuggled in bed under an antique quilt listening to my stressed-out heartbeat in my ears, but eventually, I let myself accept that I was not in control. I could try to cling to some semblance of it, and wind up truly miserable. Or I could just let go. I realized I needed to at about 5 a.m.

I'm still clinging to some of the leftover bits. These things take time.

I have, however, finally come to the realization that this is not a tragedy. This is inconvenient. But it is also an opportunity to take a step back and appreciate that the love thing? Yeah; that's real. Friends new and old, and every member of my family, offered me love, comfort, support, cookies, rides, assistance and at least one pumpkin pie blizzard.

So I came home the long way. From my favorite house in Charleston, Northward we headed ... by way of a tow truck near a corn field, a mechanic's shop, a gas station in Dwight, the house I grew up in and, eventually ... blissfully ... to the little place I call home. It's quiet here, which is a bit disconcerting, but it offers a chance for me to shut off my busy brain and realize, for real and for true, that this day is what coming home really is all about.

Nostalgia

2011-10-21T09:10:00.002-05:00

It's homecoming week at EIU, and for the first time in at least 10 years, I'm going. The last time I was in Charleston for Homecoming, I wasn't yet married, but Chris accompanied me. Things are different now. And yet, in so many ways, I am more like the person I was when I was a student.

How refreshing is it to realize that who we essentially are cannot be altered? It may go on hiatus for awhile, but we always return to our core values. The last five years have taught me that the things I value are friendship, health, knowledge and fun. Not so different from Maggie circa 1997 ... except maybe the health thing. Maggie back then went to class, studied hard, worked hard, played hard. She made memories so vivid, it seems like only yesterday we were crawling through a grate in the floor of the gym hallway, or driving home from the St. Louis arch in the wee hours of the morning.

Maggie today works hard, plays hard, and yes, she's still making memories. Sometimes, with the same people she made them with back in '97.

I will spend a good portion of this weekend with Patty and Brian Poulter, two of the greatest professors at EIU. I will see my ish-bro Chunk and his fiance Erin. I will eat chili with the Journalism department, I will watch the homecoming parade, and I will smile, laugh and remember. And make more memories while I'm at it.

10 on Tuesday

2011-10-11T10:19:00.004-05:00

Haven't done one of these in awhile! Let's see if I still "got it" ...

I love live music. Lucky for me, this weekend brings not one, but two opportunities to enjoy some. On Friday night, my sister Jenn is taking me to see Mary Chapin Carpenter at the Paramount in Aurora. I love her music. (Mary’s, not Jenn’s, although she’s pretty talented, too.) Jenn and I have seen Mary before, and she’s awesome … but it’s been years, and we no longer have the matching cow vests to wear to the show. My friend Karen had an extra ticket to see Matt Nathanson at the Riv on Saturday, and she offered it to me. Hello? Yes please! I love him, and I’ve never seen him live. So we’re planning to spend the evening in the city, with dinner at a wine bar and dessert at a bakery and lots of time to visit. Yep. Perfect.

But what am I really looking forward to? Sunday. I have nothing on the schedule on Sunday. I will not schedule anything on Sunday. I will not even walk outside my apartment on Sunday, unless it’s to walk to the Dumpster to throw out garbage. Other than that, Sunday will be spent barefoot and curled up in my little home. I haven’t had a day like that in a really long time. Based on my psyche lately, I need it.

I ran six miles on Saturday. That’s my longest run to date. I ran it with my friend Di, in a Naperville forest preserve. It was perfectly lovely; I was a little blissed out, to tell you the truth – doing something I’ve never done before with a dear friend at my side? Yes, please. Working toward the 15K Hot Chocolate race on November 5. Nine miles? Yikes. I can to this. But I may limp afterward.

Speaking of, I am in desperate need of a massage … which means that, while I’m far too busy for my own good, I need to get up to Lake Geneva to see my friend Jeremiah, the massage therapist. We barter – he massages, I buy him breakfast. It’s a good trade, but I need to find the time.

Last Sunday I did something I haven’t done since about 1998 – sang with my family in church. It was meaningful for lots of reasons, not the least of which being that it has been such a long time since I shared in music with both Jesus and my family at the same time. My dad is still one of the greatest worship leaders ever; the man has the greatest soul, and it translates into meaningful worship for everyone, I think. What a great day.

I desperately need to clean my closets. I’m surprised I can actually pull together a matching outfit these days. I wish I were kidding.

There are lots of fun opportunities coming up. Like what, you ask? Well, next weekend I will be travelling to Charleston to visit my friends Patty and Brian, and go to my college homecoming. I haven’t been to homecoming in years, and let’s face it – I love and miss my college town. Very excited to get back there, see my friends, eat some strawberry bread and enjoy the atmosphere. And chili.

Tucson calls! It’s been too long since I’ve wedged my ass into an airplane seat and travelled to Tucson to see my Southwest peeps. I’m fortunate to have people in lots of places that I can visit. Tucson offers the perfect quick weekend, because Mike & Rae live right by the airport, so it’s an easy trip for just a few days. I will get my training runs in, relax, and eat delicious food. And probably stay up way too late talking, because that’s what we do.

Okay, so not only did I run six miles on Saturday, but I ran five last night. Five of the most difficult, horrific miles ever. On a god-forsaken dreadmill at the gym, prior to Salsa/Funk class (which left me really feeling like dancing. NOT.) I felt like I was clawing at each fraction of a mile, trying to get to five. At about 1.5, I moved treadmills. At 3.3, I had to poop. Seriously. But I did it; I made it to five miles. Begrudgingly. Painfully. I made it.

I deal with change pretty well. I do not deal well with it when tons of things change, all at the same time. Please take note, and knock that shit off.

Autumn

2011-10-05T08:55:00.006-05:00

Fall is in full swing here in the Midwest. The trees are beginning to turn, showing their gorgeous color, and the sun has been shining for the better part of a week. The air is crisp - it's the perfect weather for sleeping - and it's hard to believe there was ever a time that I hated this season.

My mother was not a fan of autumn. Sure, she appreciated the colors, but she told me on more than one occasion that fall, to her, signaled an ending. The earth was going to sleep and the beauty and life of spring and summer were, in a way, dying off for a time.

I think I adopted that feeling, which only got worse when I married a fella who hated winter so much it ruined his autumn, too. I spent years dreading this time of year, but as of last year I declared "no more". There is too much to enjoy.

Case in point, this photograph, which I took on the Fall Color 5K at Morton Arboretum on Sunday, October 2. The orange and gold are just starting to peek out; it's beautiful.

Life is far too short to waste it hating the environment you're in. And frankly, hating it is a choice. You can just as easily embrace it! And when you start doing that, you begin to find all sorts of things that make the season quite lovely ... even mundane tasks take on a bit of beauty.

Take, for example, my drive to work. It could be painful. It happens way too early - 7 a.m. on most days - and I'm rarely ready for it. But I always have a hot cup of coffee. I usually have a warm breakfast sandwich. And I always drive past the forest preserve. Today it was particularly beautiful. The elk were out in the pasture (yes, an elk pasture just happens to be on my route) and the leaves were crimson and eggplant and mustard and brick red and seriously, how can you not love that? Against a cloudless cerulean sky, it was immeasurably beautiful.

And I thought to myself, "Self, this may well be a perfect day." For you, too, I hope. Enjoy it.

Sniffle

2011-09-27T10:18:00.002-05:00

I have a cold.

It's true; I've succumbed to sickness. My throat is sore and my chest is congesty and ... dammit, I have a cold.

I am the world's worst patient. So much so that I'm getting on my own nerves. I am needy and whiney (two of the lesser-known dwarves) and I sniffle a lot. I'm gross.

And all that is to say just this: Sometimes, you get sick. Granted, it's been awhile for me, but there are times when you have to admit that the bug has caught you and lay low for awhile. Do that early on, and chances are (please cross your fingers) it will not hold on for too long. Refuse to take care of yourself and you give the virus something to hold on to. Not gonna do that.

So, much as I want to be at the gym tonight, chances are I'll head home and into jammies. Much as I want to lift weights and dance, there is probably an 80 percent chance that I'll recline on the sofa instead. I hate that, but I also know the quickest route back to my routine is to give my body time to fight off the sickeness. Which is not fun, but it has to be done. (Hey, I made a rhyme.)

There you have it: my silent plea to the universe to let me get better so I can be at my best. I'll slow down for a few days. But after that, all bets are off.

Fall

2011-09-22T10:18:00.002-05:00

The weather has been awesome lately. Leaves are just beginning to turn, the down comforter is back on the bed (perfect for sleeping with the windows open) and it's time to face facts: Autumn is here.

That's not a bad thing. Although in my past life, I hated the passing of summer, over the last few years I have grown to enjoy it. Sure, it means that snow isn't far behind, but I'm okay with it. And in the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the beauty that is here, now.

This year in particular, however, fall seems to be bringing on a myriad of other changes. I'm learning to cope with my favorite instructor leaving the Schaumburg location of my gym, but that's a rough one. She will be back about once a month to teach Salsa/Funk, but my regular check-ins with Donna Thomas are drawing to a close. It feels like a break-up to me, the way it affects my soul. I know it sounds super cheesy, but that's where I'm at. I'm so happy for her, because she is happy; the change will be good for her, for her family and for her life. But for me? It's tough to grasp.

Why? Well, I'll tell ya.

Donna Thomas is a rare broad. She's tough, generous and amazing. I've only trained with her once, but I will never forget it. She was so kind as to give me a session to help me work on hip/leg strength and balance, to help me rehab the injury. It was the toughest hour of my life! She is groovy. The woman can dance! She's private but passionate, feminine but strong. And she believes in me, and my ability to reach my goals.

Losing someone like that - someone who has had an integral part in my physical transformation so far - is going to be rough.

Yet, it's an opportunity. This is a time to grow, to let the ebb and flow of life carry me to something new. To learn, to achieve ... and to carry what Donna has taught me out into the world. To be generous, kind, passionate and strong.

There are some at the gym who are not taking the change well. They are vocally making this all about them. This makes me angry. While I am personally sad, I have to honor my friend by sharing in her excitement. This is not a tragedy; this is just a change. It's not the first, and it won't be the last.

So we transition. From summer to fall. From Donna to John (and anyone else who cares to teach and coach us along). We ebb. We flow.

We dance.

45 and 10

2011-09-03T12:09:00.004-05:00

It's September. My birthday month has officially begun. (Yes, I claim the entire month.) But as of yesterday, I was not much in the birthday mood.

I was a little off, for no real reason except things didn't seem like they were coming together. Plans got altered or cancelled altogether, and I was just not feelin' the love. But then, my friend Patty posted a note to my Facebook, just to tell me she thinks I'm awesome. My sister Jenn called, inviting me to the water park. And shortly after that, Mike Rice called, just to check in. See, it's like people just know. At that moment when the tears just seem like more than I can handle, people reach out. They remind me that not only will it all be okay ... it already is, if I'm ready to let it be.

I should be whole all the time by now, I know this. But sometimes, it's hard. Not gonna lie to ya; it's still difficult to remember that, 10 years ago right now, I was in Disney World, preparing for my wedding. A wedding that resulted in a marriage that was over before our fifth anniversary. I offer this up as yet another cautionary tale: Do not ever get married on your birthday, okay?

Sometimes it still hurts. Lately it's more a question of "What the hell was he thinking?" thank "Why wasn't I worthy?" See, I know that I was. I am even moreso now. It's possible that I was simply too awesome to be married to That Guy, and he knew it. So he left me for someone more befitting himself.

And all that is to say, today is a better day. Today I got up and went to the gym, I ran two miles and I lifted some weights, I took a long shower and then I treated myself to a little breakfast. Then, I drove to a little running store and picked up race packets for Monday's 5K. Yes, I will mark my 10-year wedding anniversary by doing something I never thought I could do. I will celebrate my 45th birthday by acknowledging that who I am today is so far removed from who I was 10 years ago, I'm not sure I would recognize her if I passed her on the street.

So yes, today is a better day. Tomorrow will be, too. And Monday? Yeah. Monday's gonna rock.

Calling in sick to life

2011-08-29T08:59:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, it just has to happen. You burn the candle at both ends long enough, and your body just says, hold on there, chief ... not one more step until you get yourself a little rest.

That's what happened this weekend. And I am so glad it did!

Saturday morning dawned real friggin' early. Friday night, sleep was elusive. Come to think of it, the night before every race is a tough one for sleeping. Not sure why; I know I have 5Ks in the bag now. (By that I do not mean to imply that they are easy; they are not. They are hard. They piss me off. But I know I can finish them.) But still, toss/turn/repeat was pretty much my mantra of the night.

But up and out the door I was on Saturday morning, ready to hit Hoffman Estates and run the Root Awakening. And run it I did, at my best pace yet; I finished 13.1 miles in 44:30ish. To most runners, that's nothing; that's walking. To me, it's everything. It's the first race I have ever finished in less than 45 minutes. I'm damn proud.

Saturday afternoon I was supposed to go to Wisconsin, but that didn't pan out. Misunderstandings and such meant I got an afternoon to relax, which felt like such a good idea. Then, Sunday morning rolled around, and I tried to roll with it ... but my sciatic nerve had other plans. Tingly pain, down my right leg ... so uncomfortable.

So I cancelled my plans and spent the day stretching, applying heat and relaxing. I simply stopped, for an entire day. And as of this morning, I feel 99 percent better. Is it possible that I really just needed a break? Is it possible to be healed in a day? Well, if how I felt at 5:30 a.m. this morning, when the alarm went off and I got up and went for a run is any indication, yes, it is.

For the last few weeks I've been wishing I could take a day off, call the office and just not show up. It never occurred to me that I could take back my weekend and just veg. As much as I missed seeing Amber, and going out on David's boat, I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Sometimes, being still is pure bliss.

I have not been ignoring you

2011-08-25T10:38:00.002-05:00

It has been a busy summer! And yet here we are at four months 'til Christmas. (Yes, I know, I'm weird.) Lots going on, lots of fun to be had, and we're gonna keep it going for awhile.

Last weekend was comfortably balanced. I spent a little time alone, a little time with my dad and bro, a little time with friends, and an entire day at the pool with my sister. Near perfect, for sure. While I would give just about anything to have an entire day to myself with nothing to do but putter around Casa Maggie, I'm not complaining. It has been wonderful and, dare I say, fulfilling to have a summer like this one.

I've been consistent with running over the last few weeks, too, which is leaving me feeling somewhat ready to start preparing for the half marathon in February, and also a little nervous about the 15K in November. My mantra? "I just want to finish."

I have a training plan. I will get there. Interestingly enough, the exciting new development is that I have an airline ticket. First, my sister Kathie booked our rooms. Then, I registered for the race. Yesterday, my sister Jenn booked our flights. Ladies and gentlemen, I'M GOIN' TO DISNEY WORLD and I'm gonna run 13.1 miles while I'm there.

I can't wait, and yet I'm glad I have to wait. Lots of training to do in the coming months, and I'm concentrating on proper running form so I don't get injured. Eyes on the prize, folks.

And naturally there are lots of fun things coming up in the next few weeks, too. This weekend I'm heading up to Lake Geneva after running a 5K. There is boat time on the schedule; woo-hoo! Next weekend is, of course, BirthdayFest, which includes another 5K and probably a meal with the family, plus time with Linda's visiting family as well. Hopefully some much needed rest will happen then, too.

At any rate, life has been a bit of a whirlwind of late. I'm looking forward to what lies ahead ... but I really want a nap.

Collision

2011-08-07T17:40:00.003-05:00

Welcome to August 7, the end of what I have come to think of as the week in which the world I am confident and the world in which I am not collide. (A concept which, I must admit, I have stolen from the character Dana Whitaker from Sports Night. She's not using it anymore, so I borrow.)

July 31 was Muddy Buddy, my original athletic foray - the world in which I am not confident. August 6 brought the Summer Showcase with Liberty Town Productions, an annual revue which I've been fortunate to perform in now for two years running - the world in which I am confident.

Now that the second year of all that is in the books, I find myself strangely at peace. Each time I cross the finish line, each time I take a bow, those worlds collide a little bit. Being able to perform has made me a better runner, because I know how to fake it to make it. Being able to run a race has made me a better performer, because I have proven to myself that I am far more capable than I ever thought.

And the two pursuits together have left me so much more well-rounded. My world is bigger, because it isn't just about fitness or theater; like parents speak of their children, I love them both equally. What they've done for me as a person is immeasurable. But I must admit, my favorite part of either is finishing strong.

Opportunity and the way things sorta fall together

2011-08-03T22:25:00.002-05:00

So, I have this bucket of time off to use by the end of the year. I'm taking the first week of December to go to Disney World with Dad. Then, friends called to ask if I can go to Six Flags next week Tuesday. Sure; I'll take a day off.

THEN, the opportunity to spend next Thursday on Lake Geneva with friends from out of town presented itself to me. Well, okay, I can do that; I'll take the day off. Yes, I'll be working every other day next week. Kind of a nifty schedule; a whole week where I don't work two days in a row? Sign me up.

THEN tonight after yoga, I was saying good night to the instructor, and she asked if she could give me her card. Sure, I said; I like her. She's awesome. THEN she tells me she's going to be teaching yoga in the mountains of Colorado in September ... would I like to go along?

Sweet Jesus, yes. But I'm also poor, so I'll need to decline. Granted, this is the sort of vacation I dream of. I've never been to Colorado, and I could go there and just be active, have this amazing opportunity to go outside myself and drink in a part of the country I've never seen. But no. Not this time.

THEN, she says, interestingly enough, I can do vacation for trade. Meaning, if I'm willing to do dishes and laundry, I can go. For free. All expenses paid.

So, we're talking. I need to fully understand what will be expected of me, and I need to be sure both sides will benefit from the arrangement. But from where I sit, I may be visiting Colorado this September, and I couldn't possibly be more excited about it.

Sometimes, things just fall into place. It's been a summer like that. I'm getting good at letting it flow.

So far this summer ...

2011-08-01T08:42:00.003-05:00

Okay, so today is the first day of August. We're officially in the "dog days" ... meaning, it's going to get hotter (not sure how, seeing as we've already hit the heat index of 110 for a few days running) and the season isn't ready to release its grip on us yet.

But some will soon begin to bemoan (see that alliteration there?) the ending of summer, what with kids returning to school and all. I say, no way; summer isn't over until September 21, and between now and then, there's lots of time to do what we love, whether it's porch sittin', al fresco dining, playing on the swings or rolling down a hill. No need to panic; you can still check a lot off your summer "to-do" list.

I'm a little proud to say that I've already checked a lot of things off of mine - some of which weren't even on the original list, but they would've been if I'd thought of it! Two months into the season, I have ...

Completed not one but two races that involved obstacles and mud.

Spent a day on a boat.

Spent several days at the pool. Any pool. Lovely.

Eaten sweet corn. And ribs.

Gone for a bike ride. Several bike rides. I love having a bike.

Spent an evening with my friends Dale and Candy, around a bonfire. (Same night I ate the corn and ribs. YUM.)

Reclined on the grass at the Grand Geneva resort and watched fireworks. Heaven!

Seen Harry Potter 7.2. Twice.

Been to Wrigley field for a Cubs game. (They won. Holler. And the hot dog was delicious.)

Enjoyed my favorite band, Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers, live.

There is more to be done. There is time to do it. So let's enjoy the rest of summer!

Of Tuscany and beyond

2011-07-23T14:59:00.001-05:00

Life in Chicagoland has been steamy of late. So today, instead of doing chores around the house - a place that doesn't much get below 80 degrees indoors these days - I reclined on the sofa and watched "Under the Tuscan Sun".

Let me preface my remarks by saying, I love this film. It's beautifully shot, and Diane Lane is simply a treasure.

During the early days of My Divorce, I watched two films that gave me hope while simultaneously making me feel like a total sap. The first was "Calendar Girls". Watching these beautiful, aging women discover their beauty made me believe it could happen, and want it for myself. Perhaps, subconsciously, that movie is what drove me to the gym four years ago. The second, as you've likely guessed by now, was "Under the Tuscan Sun".

I love that movie, and I loved it then, too. It was beautiful for me, in those early days, to watch someone go through divorce and come out on the other side. But one line - just one line - made it completely unrealistic to me.

Frances, the lead character, says, "Unthinkably good things can happen even late in the game. It's such a surprise."

I watched, thinking to myself that this character I loved, this pillar of strength, actually ended the film a simpering idiot. But then, time passed. Bitterness faded. (Though I still wish He Who Must Not Be Named and Judy the Ho would get a mad case of crabs.) And somehow, miraculously, unthinkably good things began to happen.

My life found its way back to me.

Today, I've padded around my little (warm!) one-bedroom walkup in bare feet, loving the cool feeling of the wood beneath them. I've run (on a treadmill), loving the feeling of one-foot-in-front-of-the-other, doing something I did not, even one year ago, know I could do. I've done bicep curls until my muscles cried, and I've done push-ups from my toes. Tonight, I will spend my evening surrounded by girlfriends ... none of whom I even knew the first time I saw "Tuscan".

So what if things didn't turn out the way I'd planned? The truth is ... I simply didn't plan big enough. Unthinkably good things, indeed.

What a weekend!

2011-07-21T09:33:00.020-05:00

Yes, I realize that a week ago I officially started my weekend last weekend. (How many times can you use "weekend" in one sentence? Turns out, about three.) Anyhoo ... I had a blissful day and a half off of work, and quite honestly packed the 3.5 days with activity and FUN! It would be difficult if not impossible to tell this story, so I'm going to let the pictures do most of the talking.

First stop: rehearsal for Summer Showcase 2011. There is nothing like working with talented performers who also happen to be friends. Case in point, Polly Ludena. We're singing "Evil Woman" from Xanadu ... it's a freakin' blast.
Next stop: midnight viewing of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part II, in iMax 3D, natch. Complete with popcorn and milk duds. Saw the show with my friend Alexis, Linda and Lorna. Loved it. LOVED it.

Oh, Wrigley Field, I love you so. Justin and Diane treated Linda and I to a Cubs game. And really, you haven't lived until you've eaten a hot dog with thousand island dressing and kraut. To. Die. For. (The Cubs won, btw, and our seats were perfect.)

Remember how I said I loved HPatDH, pt 2? So much so that I saw it again the next night. While seated in a recliner. With a bunch of friends, and blanket that matched my outfit. And beer, calamari, quesadillas and chocolate cake. Hell to the yeah.

The next morning, believe it or not, Linda and I were at the gym for our workout. But Saturday night found us at House of Blues, Chicago to see my favorite Band, Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers. Here's Rog, being awesome.

P.H. Naffah on drums.Nick Scropos on bass, and the divine Jim Dalton (who kissed my hand at the end of the show; no lie) on lead guitar.

More Roger. Because I dig this shot.
What was the setlist, you ask? Well, I'll tell ya. Counterclockwise, Down Together, All Over the Radio, Wanted, I Don't Need Another Thrill, Heaven on a Paper Plate, Mexico, Tell Yer Momma, Maybe We Should Fall in Love, Marie, Banditos, Leaky Little Boat, Switchblade, Suckerpunch, Dinero, Hello New Day, Beautiful Disaster, Mekong, I Do and Nada. Encore was Green & Dumb, followed by a mix of Girly, an awesome cover of the Violent Femmes’ Kiss Off, the theme from King of the Hill, and finishing the last verse of Girly. Awesome.

Here's me and Linda on our way out the door, happy and full of good music.

Sunday morning came too fast, but we had an opportunity to go to the Vernon Hills branch of our gym ... the fancy club, that usually doesn't let in Our Kind of people. So we went, got our dance on for an hour and a half, and then reclined, poolside. Our friend Rebekah brought beverages, I brought sunscreen, and we had a great time. Here's Linda, Donna and me, tired but sublimely happy in the sunshine.

To say that this was a great weekend is a grave understatement. I was so thrilled to have a little time away from work to recharge and remind myself that life is a series of experiences, and when you dive into them ... you can have an amazing result.

Lessons from the Water Park

2011-07-11T13:29:00.006-05:00

Twice now this summer, I have joined my sisters for a day at the pool. "Pool", roughly translated, means "holy crap this place is huge and can we go down the slide?" This is what they call a pool. The place is amazing ... and filled with opportunities to learn. Such as:

My ass fits in an innertube. It's been years, and yet there you have it. Happy little Maggie, floating down a lazy river, or flying down a water slide, tushie encased in what had formerly eluded me. Yeah, that felt good.

I freaking love water slides! It was a blast climbing up, up, up with Jenn and Bernie, only to go flying down an array of different slides. One dumps you out into a big funnel; another, into what feels like a toilet bowl. Screams and cheers and WOW that was fun! Could've done that all day, but I don't like to wait in line.

There is a weird "trend" out there for women's swimwear. Seems if your suit is too small, you can just wear your bra under it to provide appropriate coverage. It looks hideous, but for some reason, it happens. There was a woman busting out of a black swimsuit, with a turquoise bra on underneath. Clearly, her suit would not have been street legal without the bra, but here's the thing: bathing suits are available in a variety of sizes. You are not required to squeeze 10 pounds of shit into a five-pound bag. Please stop.

I have an amazing sense of fashion. I came to the water park in a bathing suit (which covered all the important parts), shorts and a linen shirt. All of which were my size or a little too big. However, it seemed more popular to pour oneself into a denim skirt, use innertubes as a cover-up, or wear a t-shirt into the pool than to use your brain and dress appropriately. Good Lord!

If you're overweight, accept it. Don't try to hide it under a t-shirt in the pool, because once it gets wet, you just look like the fat guy (or girl) in a wet t-shirt who's trying in vain to cover up the fact that he (or she) is fat. Here's the gig: it's not like all of a sudden someone is going to see you in a swimsuit and realize you're fat. It's obvious, even fully clothed. Adding a t-shirt IN THE POOL just looks like you're fat and dumb. At my heaviest, I still just got in the pool. This is who you are at this moment in time. Just enjoy the pool, and no one will notice or care.

Dippin' Dots are delicious. And they don't immediately melt in 90-degree heat. Best cooling treat ever.

My sisters are nuts. I knew this before we got to the pool, but it became more evident as the day wore on. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

There is no better way to spend a hot day than wooshing down waterslides, floating in a lazy river, jumping in a wave pool and lounging in the sun. Better yet to end the day with hamburgers, fries and family.

Perfect weekend, indeed.

Goodbye to June

2011-06-30T10:23:00.002-05:00

This month has been an incredible challenge. Actually, to be more precise, 2011 has been a challenge, which seemed to culminate in an overflowing June. So as I sit here on the final day of this month, I'm more than happy to put it in my rearview mirror.

On the work front, our annual Conference was this week. All the behind-the-scenes work, of course, had to be done ahead of that, and much of it was done by my department. To say that we are all exhausted would be an understatement. This year was particularly challenging, with a lot changing and much of that at the last minute. It's no wonder I've become an insomniac.

Personally, I've had some physical challenges, as well. My Achilles continues to fight me, and although there are days when it feels okay, there are lots of days when it's painful. It's swollen every day. I should find out next week what the MRI says is wrong, and then we'll know how to proceed. Sometimes it's difficult not to feel betrayed by my body. Here I am, trying to give it the care it deserves, and it strikes back with a vengeance. I'm trying to be patient ... but that's a lot harder than it looks!

So I look to July with great hope. Hope that Independence Day weekend brings some relaxation (and fun in Wisconsin, likely accompanied by cheese.) Hope that I'll be able to take part in the races that are on my schedule. Hope that once I know what's wrong with the Achilles, I'll be able to heal it and move on. And hope that, from here on out, 2011 and I will start getting along.

Thank you, June, for showing me how strong and capable I am. (Seriously ... I did the Warrior Dash in June!) Now, don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. I'm ready for July.

Five years

2011-06-25T13:30:00.004-05:00

It was five years ago-ish ... the fateful day when my then-husband and his latest woman (now his latest wife) packed up his stuff and he moved on.

Well, good riddance to bad rubbish, my dear. And the rubbish, as it turned out, was both him and his crap. Sweet Jesus, that boy had horrible taste in just about everything, save for his first two wives.

It was a horribly difficult day, made tolerable by a dear friend who picked me up in his soft-top Jeep Wrangler, and drove me all over the Chicago area. All. Day. Long. Top down, tunes cranked. When the top's down, tears dry quickly. We drove for hours. That friend was Brian Shamie, or Cute Brian, as I call him, and he saved my life that day. Though we've since grown apart, I will never forget what he gave me - smiles and happiness on what was easily one of my top five crappiest days ever.

Five years. Sometimes, it seems like yesterday. Sometimes, if seems like the marriage never happened at all ... like it was just some crazy daydream, never part of reality.

But it did happen, I was once married to someone who took advantage of my every kindness and jumped ship as soon as things got really tough. It left me scarred and strong, and with an uncanny ability to open myself up to receive what he was unable to give me: unconditional love. It has come to me from the most unlikely of sources, and from people I never would have met if we had stayed together.

This blog was born out of a need to vent, to let out the emotion of being discarded like yesterdays newspaper. It's a testament to the healing that has happened over the past five years, and what I find most ironic is this: almost every post is one of great joy. This isn't my public-facing pity pot, it's the story of Becoming Maggie ... the real, whole, honest person I've always been, but needed a little nudge to return to.

Which leads me to wonder, what will the next five years bring? Stay tuned. Much is likely to change, but my need to write about it? Yeah, that's a constant.

Thanks for coming along for the ride thus far.

They're playin' my song/s

2011-06-22T11:01:00.004-05:00

In the many years I've walked this planet, one thing is constant: Music. I can remember very vivid dreams as a child, imagining myself singing back-up for my favorite artists. I can recall minute details, such as what I was wearing at the age of six, harmonizing to John Denver. My life has a soundtrack, and it weaves through the most important (and unimportant) moments over the past 44 years.

So when my computer gave up the ghost a few years ago, I panicked. All I had was my iPod - my ancient, second-generation unit, which surely wouldn't be around forever. It had all my music on it, but A) I had no computer on which to update or play it and B) even if I did, iTunes wouldn't allow me to transfer it back.

Enter the new computer. My beautiful new iMac is technical perfection. And now, it houses all my music once again. (Note to self: get an external hard drive for backup.)

Thanks to a bit of software, I was able to pull my 6,000 songs off the 'Pod and back into the world. I was not prepared for how this was going to make me feel. I started toolin' around through some of the old stuff on there (Kung Fu Fighting, anyone?) and it was like a light came on. Seriously. Yes, I know it sounds cheesy, but I have my music; all feels right with my world.

Mud, sweat and beer

2011-06-19T10:54:00.003-05:00

I can't remember whose idea it was.

I don't know whether to slap them or kill them, if I ever figure it out.

Suffice it to say, back in January, someone said, "Hey, let's run Warrior Dash." And I said yes.

Yesterday was my Dash, and it was awesome. Perfect? No. I skipped a few obstacles, because I just didn't feel safe. It took me a long-ass time to get through the entire course. But I finished, vertical, with no new injuries; that was the goal.

There was a lot of climbing in the Dash. Enough for me to realize I had a fear of heights. Who knew? But the magic of events like this doesn't come from the course, or the obstacles, or the beer, or the turkey legs. It comes from your fellow competitors. Like my friend Linda, who stuck with me through the entire course, knowing that I was not physically at my best, and wanting to enjoy the experience with me. And like the woman who waited for me atop one of the obstacle walls. You had to scale the wall - angled, but still treacherous - using a rope. At the top, you had to find a way to bend and reach over, so you could climb ladder-style down the back. Up there she waited, grabbed hold of me, hoisted my massive thigh over the top and made sure I could make it down.

The chances of me completing that obstacle without her are somewhere between slim and non-existent.

That one gave me the confidence to take on most of the others. The course was supposed to include 10 obstacles, but in the days prior to the Dash, organizers added two ... plus incredible natural obstacles like creeks and muddy, steep hills. We had to dig in, tighten the core, and hope for the best. Looking back over the day, I can't believe I made it through.

At each obstacle, Linda and I took one band off our left wrist and moved it to the right, and took a moment to honor our friend Barb, who could not participate in the Dash because she's in Ohio with her mother, who is not in good health. Those moments provided a bit of a spiritual nature to our race. The obstacles we traversed were nothing compared to the obstacles we face in real life.

3.28 miles. 12 official obstacles. Two muddy hills that required a rope to ascend. All told, before I could get to beer, turkey legs and sweet corn, I climbed a wall, traversed over a suspended cargo net, made my way up and over a box maze (which was really kind of lame), climbed another wall and dropped down the other side, pulled myself up and over a wooden archway, climbed yet another wall and slid down a fire pole on the other side, made my way up a VERY TALL cargo net only to slowly descend (while shaking) down the other side, leaped over flames ... and crawled through a mud pit.

I was feeling a little bit like a wuss, because I skipped a few challenges. I didn't climb on cars (but I did make it through some of the tires). I didn't climb the rickety platforms. And there was no way I was going to climb the wall that went straight up ... and straight down. I took one step up and my whole self started to shake; that was just not gonna happen. But my friend Linda? Yeah, the wild woman completed them all. And realizing that I completed nine of 12, when there were only supposed to be 10. Yeah, I'm a bad-ass.

Today, it's bruises and laundry. And an incredible sense of accomplishment.

Summer? A list.

2011-06-15T14:16:00.002-05:00

This summer, while taking its sweet time to get here, has already offered me splendid opportunities to enjoy things I love. Already this year, I have lounged poolside, been out on a boat, and spent a day at a water park. It's been perfect, and it's not even really summer yet! (The solstice is June 21.) So it got me thinkin' ... what else do I not want to miss? Here is my summer to-do list:

Participate in another obstacle race. (Doin' it this Saturday.)

Get a bike. Ride it.

See a movie at the drive-in.

Rollerblade (without falling on my touchas like I did last time I tried.)

Grill the perfect burger. (Much easier since Linda gave me a grill.)

Spend a day at Millennium Park.

Take yoga at Millennium Park.

See/hear a concert at Ravinia.

Let my friend Dale cook for me.

Fireworks!

Road trip to Charleston, IL.

Take a hike.

Have a picnic.

Build a sandcastle.

That's it; pretty doable, I think! What's on your list?

The mirror

2011-06-09T11:53:00.002-05:00

There was a time in the not-too-distant past when I didn't like to look in the mirror. The girl looking back at me was just not how I saw myself. Back then, I thought the difference was the extra weight. I thought I didn't like my reflection, because that girl was the fatty-moo-moo version of me.

Fast forward to now. I'm still carrying extra weight (although a lot less) and I'm still never gonna be the prettiest girl in any room ... but it's so different now, that reflection.

Who I am is what is different.

On Monday morning, I set the alarm and got up early for a run. (Yes, I did that.) I dressed in black active pants and the green t-shirt we got for running the Sweetness 5K last Saturday. I had just woken up, so I wasn't all cutesy-cute girl. And I caught a glimpse of myself in the big mirror in my bedroom.

I actually said, out loud, to my reflection, "Damn, girl ... "

That's right. I totally hit on myself.

Made me smile. And it gave me something to think about on that run. Yes, I've made changes. I've lost some weight. But the real changes have happened inside my head. I've accepted who I am. I've become something more than I was before. And that has given me confidence. It's the confidence I'm seeing in the mirror.

See, when a man like my ex-husband leaves you for the type of woman for whom he left me, ya feel scarred. It seems inevitable that, when faced with the knowledge that He Who Must Not Be Named chose Ursula the Sea Witch to yours truly, I would envision myself as less than she. (I know, I know ... but that's where the mind goes. The dark places.) He wasn't good for me when we were married, but after he left? Then he was horrible for me.

My point, I suppose, is that this has been a five-year process. It was five years ago this month that he packed up his stuff and moved out. Five long years.

Five years of growth and opportunity. Five years of peeling an onion, layer by little layer, to find out what's shakin' inside.

That's not to say that we're done; no, not by a longshot. I am still in the process of becoming, and I hope I always am.

Of weekend plans and baby carrots

2011-06-03T11:42:00.002-05:00

I'm always hungry. This is not necessarily a good thing, especially with the weekend approaching and, with it, a slew of food opportunities ... which may or may not be appropriate.

Tonight I was planning to go to the gym, but then I thought it through and realized that was kinda dumb. I have a 5K in the morning; overdoing it tonight could make tomorrow difficult. So, tonight I'll be doing laundry and straightening out my abode.

Tomorrow's "race" is the Sweetness 5K, to benefit the Walter Payton Foundation. I was supposed to run it with two of my sisters, but both of them backed out. One has work that is calling her out of town; the other simply has too much work. Which was all well and good, honestly, because my running pals Mama Dee, Pam, Simone, Shelly and Meg are running it, too. But still, my sister Kathie didn't want me to be out there "alone", so she'll be running with me. (And by "with me", I mean "approximately ten minutes ahead of me.")

After the run, we're hoping to spend the morning/afternoon at the water park. There are storms in the forecast, however. Please make them go away.

The rest of the weekend will be comprised of Thai food and theater with Kathleen (my friend Kathleen, not to be confused with my sister, Kathie, who is also a Kathleen) and working on a massive pictorial project for a friend of mine. Should make for a relaxing weekend.

BUT ... I need groceries. I need them to be cheap and healthy. Looks like I'll be cooking some this weekend, too. So, off we go, into the blissful two days of non-work-life. Enjoy it!

Need a break? Try a 24-hour vacation.

2011-06-01T09:55:00.003-05:00

Ahhh, Memorial Day weekend. Love it. Summer's distant call steps up close and screams in your ear, "I'M HERE!!!" At some point over the three-day weekend, it becomes time to let summer in.

My weekend started out delightfully over a splendid dinner of chips and guac. I wish I were kidding, but no matter. It was tasty. Saturday dawned bright and early, as the Misfits Run Club gathered at 6:45 (yawn) to get a 30-minute run logged before strength training class. (After which the smart people jumped in the indoor pool. Too cold for outdoors on Saturday!)

Saturday night found me in the living room at a friend's house, enjoying the company of some great girlfriends - especially Gretchen, from CT! So good to finally meet her. Anyhoo, it was a lovely evening (I brought mojitos) but I gave myself an early curfew. This girl is no longer equipped to burn the candle at both ends!

Sunday dawned stormy, and I seized the opportunity to lay in bed with my coffee and "The West Wing" on DVD. Perfection. I followed the storm system on The Weather Channel and determined that I could leave my house at around 5 p.m. to head north for my 24-hour respite.

The drive to Lake Geneva was beautiful. The storm had passed, there were a few clouds in the sky, but mostly it was just pretty. I arrived in time to visit with Amber and Jeremiah, have some spiked lemonade by the pool, and still primp before heading out. Our friend John's band was playing at a bar in Burlington, WI - the Sly Fox - and we wanted to check it out. Drank a little beer, played some darts (I came in last ... and one of the players is blind!) and enjoyed the music. Truly a fun night!

Then, Sunday arrived in all its glory. I headed out for an early morning run, and was surprised (shocked? dismayed?) at how hilly Lake Geneva is. After my warm-up walk interval, I turned a corner and BAM. Hill. Okay, I'll take you on. Thankfully there was a bit of a breeze and a lot of shade along my route, because it could have been brutal! Hills, heat and humidity; guess I'm gonna have to get used to that if I'm gonna run in the summertime, huh?

Back at the house, I dripped sweat and Amber made breakfast. Eggs, sausage, toast, hash browns, coffee ... all from the comfort of my chaise lounge. Delightful! After tidying up, we put on our bathing suits and headed for the pool.

My suit is so cute! I made a good choice; and only $20 at Old Navy. A few hours in the sun was enough for us, because at 1:30 it was time to get on a boat!

Our friend David invited us out onto Lake Como for lunch, beverages and a good time. It was 89 degrees, but out on the water the breeze was so lovely, I wasn't going to complain. We spent several hours out there, talking, laughing and enjoying the scenery. Just beautiful. I definitely felt like I'd truly departed my everyday life.

As 5 p.m. approached, it was time to head to shore, pack my things and point the Jeep south. The drive was perfect - top down, light breeze, complete harmony with the world around me. I can't imagine a better way to usher in summer than with a little activity, a little relaxation, and a lot of time with the best of friends.

Of food, family and friends

2011-05-23T11:20:00.003-05:00

What do you do when your weekend plans go awry? You roll with it, make the best of it, and end up having a great time!

I had all-day Saturday plans, but when they went belly-up, I opted to drive to Wisconsin to surprise Kevin and Kelly, who were visiting from out of town. I had previously told Kel that it wasn't in the cards (see previous statement that I had plans), so it was so much fun to surprise her and just show up.

Laughter. Food. Repeat.

There's something about old friends (I've known Kelly for almost 30 years) that can help you make more sense to yourself. It was awesome.

I was able to visit with them guilt-free because on Friday night, I participated in the Augie's Quest fundraiser at the gym, doing a three-hour workout (two of which were cardio) ... so I started off the weekend with a calorie deficit, thereby earning my burger and strawberry shortcake. Sadly, that was my only workout of the weekend; so much going on!

Saturday night found me back home, snuggled in my little apartment and catching up on a few chores. Sunday was scheduled pretty full, so I made it an early night. The alarm went off in the morning and I was off and running (taking time to style my stunning hair, however, which has been lightened and highlighted and I freaking LOVE IT!) I drove to Aurora for my Godson Ross' Sunday School program, which also featured his brother Jack and sister Ro. Can I just say adorable? I love those kids. (Their parents aren't bad, either, and their Mammy? She's the bizzomb.) We had a leisurely lunch afterward, but I think the kids' favorite part of the day was riding around in Aunt Maggie's car with the top down.

Yeah. I'm the cool aunt.

After that it was over to my dad's to help my nephew with a school project and have dinner. I absolutely love spending time with my father. He is wise and funny, and I hope with all my heart to someday be as amazing as he is. I love spending time with my brother, my twin, whose sweetness knows no bounds. Those are the best parts of any visit home.

Weekend Wuv

2011-05-16T07:58:00.016-05:00

Oh, shut up. I thought it was cute!

Welcome back to the "real world". Here we, staring down the barrel of another Monday. But at least we had the weekend to totally take a break from the 9 to 5 insanity! And what a weekend it was.

Started off active, which is a great way to kick Weekend Mode into high gear. Friday night was my friend Rebekah's birthday party, and because she's completely bananas, she arranged for a private Zumba lesson for all her friends at the Vernon Hills branch of my gym. (It should be noted that the Vernon club is much more posh than mine; it's a few levels up on the membership scale. They scoff when people from Schaumburg show up, but we were on the guest list, so they let us in, anyway.)

We danced. We tried to have fun. But I was simply reminded of why I absolutely hate Zumba. But that's another story for another time.

It was great to see Rebekah, and I would do it again if that's what she wanted for her celebration. Workout friend Linda and I got to catch up a little bit with workout friend Lisa, and we were also treated to amazing food from this place. Oh holy crap; it was worth it to Zumba, just to get to this food!

All too soon, Linda and I had to go. Saturday morning would bring an early alarm, because we had to Run Wild!

Here's our group - my sister Jenn, my sister Pat, me, my friend Pam and my friend Linda. We're ready to run! (Photo by a stray fellow runner.)
It was a little chilly, in my opinion, but we had a great time. I simply love these women. I am truly touched when my family and friends meet and the combination works out well. There was a lot of love! Should you have the burning desire to read my full race report, I'll have to refer you to my health and wellness blog, found here. I'm sure you'll be riveted.

So anyhoo, it was cold but fun. I wish it had been warmer, because we could have stayed the whole day in the zoo, but with the wind and our sweat, that just wasn't gonna be wise. Time to go home.

"Home" for me was Dad's house, where I mooched food, helped Alex with homework and took a bath. Dad has a great tub. Then it was off to church; Alex was playing drums in the band, and he's wanted me to come hear him, so this seemed to be a good way to work it in. He did very well, in spite of the fact that I wasn't terribly wild about the songs. Sister Pat made up for that by bringing me a frappuchino.

After church we had burgers at Dad's, which was perfect because I've been craving burgers on the grill. Seeing as I don't have a grill, I'm pretty much beholden to others to fulfill my cravings. It was delicious! I headed home at around 6:30, and had a few hours to do laundry and relax before going to bed.

Sunday started with coffee in bed and "The West Wing" on dvd; super relaxing compared to the previous morning! By 11:30, though, I was on my way to Elkhorn, WI to see my friends Jeremiah, Tim and Aimee in "Anything Goes". The beautiful Amber and I both thought it was a thoroughly enjoyable production! I really like the show, and Tim did an amazing Job. Jeremiah is just adorable, and Aimee made a great addition to the chorus. All in all, a perfect way to spend a cloudy Sunday afternoon.

After the show, Jeremiah, Amber and I went to Moy's for Chinese food. It's amazing to me to see Jeremiah navigate the world. If you read this post, you'll recall that Jeremiah is blind. And yet he's the first one to cross the street, because he can tell by the sounds of traffic if it's safe. See? Fascinating. Anyway, we had a delightful dinner, even though Amber forgot to offer Jeremiah any rice.

All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better weekend. I was busy, but I had some time to relax. I spent time with some of my favorite people, and it helped Monday morning seem a lot less daunting. Sometimes, you just need to be reminded that work isn't the only thing you do.

Simple Truths

2011-05-13T14:23:00.002-05:00

Here, for your considerations ... some stuff I know for sure is true.

Sometimes, having a DQ Blizzard for lunch is the wisest choice you can make.

I have many, many facets, and when one of them doesn't shine, I'm still a gem.

Never try to retrieve your keys from hot lava, because once they're gone, they're gone.

A good workout comes in many forms, and you should try all of them.

After a good workout, going down a twisty water slide is the ultimate reward.

It's not about the run, or the time. It's about finishing, vertical, and having fun along the way.

Conversely, if it's not your day and you can't finish, it's about being wise enough to call and end to it and go to the nearest St. Arbucks.

There are relatives, and there is family. Some of them intertwine, but you don't have to be related to be family.

I sleep much better when it's cool outside.

Birthday parties are wasted on children. As we age, every year is a gift. I'm totally playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey this year.

The new album from Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers, Unida Cantina, is freaky awesome. It reminds me a lot of the old Refreshments stuff ... yummy.

If you can't decide what to drink, you should probably just have water.

The most delicious food is best melted, like chocolate and cheese. Oh, fondue ... I love you.

Stretch. You'll never regret it.

And you really do need to wear sunscreen.

Planning, fear, and rushing headlong into the unknown

2011-05-09T08:00:00.002-05:00

I have big dreams. If you have big dreams, you have to have big plans so you can have a big reality. Otherwise, your big dreams are just ... dreams.

So I have these big dreams - athletic pursuits, financial stability, good health. And I am working my plans. And sometimes the unthinkable happens and you realize that, no matter how solid your plan, you could be injured, have a financial emergency, or come face to face with a chocolate doughnut to which you cannot say "no".

This is the unknown territory. This is where things get a little scary. And this is where I am right now.

The Achilles has improved a great deal. Last week the doctor cleared me to run a little. As he put it, "Ease slowly back into your running routine." Okay. I can do that.

I took my first tentative steps on Saturday, wimpy intervals on the treadmill. I opted for treadmill because I figured if it hurt, at least I wouldn't be on a trail and have to limp back to the car. I kicked it up to a killer 1 percent incline (I know, I'm so daring!) and off I went - four minutes walking, one minute running. And it felt pretty good. But it also kinda hurt. I got through my half-hour workout (actually it was 34 minutes because I did a four-minute cooldown at the end) and I wasn't in pain.

But I wasn't 100 percent pain-free, either. This, my friends, is the unknown.

I don't know what's going to happen from here. I do know that I have races scheduled and I am determined to participate in them, even if I have to walk. Am I scared? Um, yeah. I want to be this athletic version of myself, and I don't know if I can do that if the injury doesn't heal 100 percent. But at this point, all I can do is dive in, do what I can and see what happens.

I should've filled my drawers with Peeps

2011-04-25T09:07:00.003-05:00

My goal this Easter was to do something active. Sunday is not a normal workout day for me, but it's also not a normal food day for most people. It's one of those "if it ain't nailed down, eat it" sort of days. So I thought, if I can balance the massive amounts of deliciousness with a little activity, there would be a little less guilt in having two slices of pie.

Could YOU choose between Key Lime and Apple? I thought not.

So I packed my little bag with workout gear, my inline skates and my protective gear - knee pads and wrist guards. I was going rollerblading with The Nephew.

It should be noted here that I was once a rather accomplished inline skater. Sure, I fell a lot, but when you're willing to try stuff, ya gotta be willing to fall. Most of the time, though, I was able to stay upright. My sister Jenn and I could be found most weekends on the Fox River Trail, wending our way Northward with a breeze in our hair (and the occasional bug up our noses.) So I wasn't prepared for how difficult it was going to be after a few (okay, 13) years to put on the skates and hit the trail once again.

I should have tried smooth pavement. (Hell, I should have tried a padded room!) I should have gotten practice in a newly-blacktopped parking lot or somethin' like that, but instead ... we hit the trail.

The bumpy, hilly trail.

I made it up the first hill. I began to doubt my ability to skate. I made it down that hill (with many prayers of intercession.) I made it around that bitchin' curve and I made it up the second hill. I began to doubt my sanity. Then, I had a brilliant idea: The Nephew and I should abandon this trail (it really, really is bumpy) and go to another park, where there's a 1.5 mile loop that (if memory serves) is paved in such a way that it doesn't feel like gravel beneath your feet. So we turned around.

And that hill I'd just come up? I had to go down it.

I made it almost all the way to the bottom before all hell broke loose. My feet seemed to leave my body and my backside met the pavement. Skid-bounce-skid-bounce-skid-bounce-shit. I finally came to a halt. I couldn't breathe. (Seriously, I sounded like a flooded engine trying to start.) The Nephew was obviously scared that I was having a near-death experience, because he high-tailed it to my side. Once I caught my breath, we started to laugh. (And I, of course, remembered my other great skating fall, when my sister Jenn was laughing too hard to help me up while I lay in a lump, crying because I had just skinned my entire left side. I think the next generation might be kinder and gentler, but I did eventually forgive Jenn.) I got up (finally) and we began to skate back to the car. There was no way I was going to make it; my everything hurt. So I took off the skates and walked, laughing at my own "grace" and wounded pride.

It hurts. It sorta looks like I took a cheese grater to my upper thighs (or lower butt, as I like to call it.) I wrenched the hell out of my back, but I will not be deterred. Up until impact, it was great fun.

And the truth is, I only got hurt because I was willing to get out there. Sometimes, you get hurt. When you're willing to take a risk, even if it seems a rather minor one, there's the chance you're gonna end up with a boo-boo. I will do it again, and I'll probably fall. I'm gonna be smart, and I'm gonna get some practice where it makes sense - like the driveway, maybe, or a skating rink. But there's no way that was my last time on skates. Because you may not be able to teach an old dog new tricks, but an old dog is perfectly capable of re-learning tricks she used to be quite good at.

Celebration Weekend, or why I love my college town

2011-04-18T08:09:00.017-05:00

Having made the wise financial decision to skip Homecoming at EIU last fall, I made plans instead to make the trip down for my favorite on-campus shindig - Celebration, a Festival of the Arts. I always enjoyed it when I was a student, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to head to Charleston, see friends and immerse myself in all I love about my little college town.

The drive down sucked. I chose a rainy, windy Friday night. Anyone who has ever driven 57 south knows it's no fun in the wind. It's less fun when it's dark and rainy and you're driving a kite. But no matter, I made it ... even though it took me five hours. (To be fair, I stopped to pee, fill the gas tank and get food.)

Taking exit 190B onto 16 to head in to Charleston always gives me a little rush of excitement. Yeah, I know it sounds stupid ... but I don't care. The flood of memories just can't be held back, as I anxiously await my first glimpse of "the castle" - Old Main, off in the distance. Lit up against the night sky, there it was, the iconic structure that welcomes you to EIU. Thank you, old friend. It's good to see you, too.

Turning toward downtown, I headed for "the square", and the home of Erin Potter and Chunk Rice, my hosts for the weekend. Their house is, in some ways, a typical college house, complete with uneven floors, doors that don't latch and drafty windows. But it's also the perfect little haven for studying or visiting. Erin has a little studio for just herself and painting. There's a guest room just for me at the top of the stairs. And they have furnished it in a way that's both casual and comfortable; it reminds me of my own place when I was a student.

Erin and Chunk ... aren't they cute?

So we settled in and the conversation flowed. Erin poured us each a glass of wine and we chatted about everything and nothing; a true college experience, I hadn't realized it when the clock turned 1 a.m., well past my bed time.

The next morning we stumbled, bleary-eyed, to the kitchen for coffee and a slow wake-up call. By 10 we were making our way to What's Cookin' for breakfast (plus strawberry bread to go.) I'm not sure if the food there was always that greasy and I just didn't care, or if it's gotten that way over the years, but let's just say I'm not in a big hurry to rush back there again. A little disappointing.

Not as disappointing, however, as realizing the Will Rogers Theater is closed. But ... that's where I saw "Babe 2: Pig in the City"! How could they close it down? From what Chunk said, AMC bought all the theaters in town, and that one wasn't paying its rent. G'bye, sweet old place. Oh, and AMC? You suck.

The Will ... and me, holding my loaf of Strawberry Bread.

Back home we headed; I was in desperate need of a shower. We hung out at home for awhile, watching hockey, reading and relaxing. There was a definite chill in the air, so we weren't in a big hurry to get to campus for carnival food. Eventually, the Redwings won and we were ready to head to the quad.

IT WAS COLD. Seriously. Our fingers were frozen, so we didn't linger any longer than it took to eat a funnel cake, barbecued chicken, crab Rangoon and a shish-ke-bob. Instead, we walked through the rehabbed Booth Library; wow, is it gorgeous! Then we made our way over to the Botany department's prairie plant sale, where I bought goodies for Dad and Jenn. Seemed like the right thing to do, seeing as it was April 16 - seven years after the day Mom died. She would have loved the plant sale. She probably would have bought them all.

The clock tower.

We made our way to the Doudna Fine Arts Center, an incredible work of art in its own right. Erin does most of her schoolwork here, and I was able to see several of her projects - complete, or in the process. Beautiful stuff; she's quite a talented young lady. So we hung out in that gorgeous building for a little while longer, and then headed back home to warm up before heading back to campus.

Dr. Patricia Poulter, Interim Associate Dean of the College of Arts and Humanities - and more importantly, my friend - was incredibly kind, securing tickets for Chunk, Erin and I with her group for the showcase concert of Celebration. The Sierra Leone Refugee All-Stars were nothing short of breathtaking. From their moving, percussive entrance through the final note of the last song, it was an evening I'll not soon forget.

In the middle of their second song, I thought to myself, "Are we really gonna sit here like polite white people while these incredible musicians have all the fun?" And then, it happened. The hippies decided it was time to dance. In a patchouli-scented crowd, they moved toward the stage, jumping, dancing ... joyful. It took only moments before Lumi, a friend of Patty and therefore a friend of mine, got up to dance. When Patty requested I go along, who was I to question it? I got up. I danced. And if you'll pardon me while I sound a little "out there," but ... there was a definite feeling of unity.

I looked around, and there were just people, dancing. Old, middle-aged, young, stoned, stone-cold sober, good dancer, good smiler, it didn't matter. We were all up there for just one reason: to experience the music. And it was certainly something to behold. I didn't dance through the entire show, however. Through most of it, I sat next to my friend (and Patty's husband) Brian, who is one of the funniest people I have ever met. Simply put, I love these people

Following the concert, "the kids" and I headed to Roc's for a pint. We chatted, I thoroughly enjoyed my Harp, and we wound down. My mini-vacation was almost over. My last night on the air mattress was a rough one, because the nip in the air seemed to get right into my bones. But I finally slept and was up early, enjoying a cup of coffee in the quiet of early morning.

The kids got up to say goodbye, and I headed out to church. Patty is the choir director at Wesley Methodist in Charleston; it was the perfect place to be on Palm Sunday. I got to meet her pastor, see her friend Harry again (he came to the Saturday concert with us, and is also the church organist) and meet her grandson and son-in-law. It is so clear how much Calvin loves his grandma Patty; I think he'd still be hugging her if he could've gotten away with it!

And then, it was time to say yet another goodbye. Patty and I agreed that I should come down for a visit this summer, when Brian is away on what seems to be the annual bike trip. I miss her spirit; she's awesome, and I'm looking forward to going back to see her and the dogs, and meet the cats.

Heading home, I decided to take the long way. See, when you take interstate 57, it's all about getting to your destination. But when you take 47, it's the journey that's important, and not finally getting to the end. I drove through Gibson City, where they've torn down the Rock-n-Roll McDonald's in favor of a fancier building. I looked in awe at the Cayuga Ridge South Wind Farm, just south of Dwight, as I passed acres and acres of huge wind turbines, their arms spinning in a natural-power ballet. And yes, I stopped in Dwight at the gas station where Dad once had to pick me up, after the struts on the old Ford Probe gave me the finger.

Wind farm ... so majestic.

Soon, I was pulling into Dad's driveway, having made the journey I'd made so many times before. There is something about going "home" after spending some time in college, even years after you graduated. It never gets old. We visited, and I took home a care package of homemade cookies and granola. We talked about Mom and Alex tried to make me feel guilty for not staying to dinner and there was laughter all around. It was the perfect way to end my trip, but the trip wasn't quite over yet

No, I still had an hour to drive until I got home, and then a few loads of laundry before I could truly relax. The chores were done by 7 and it was time to breathe slowly and get ready for a new week, leaving the weekend behind me. And yet, while it's back there, a part of the recent past, some things will stick with me.

Things like strawberry bread (which I think it's stuck to my hips) and African rhythms, laughter and coffee, hugs and eating crab Rangoon in the cold. It was one of those weekends that makes you realize that, sometimes, it is totally worth the effort it takes to completely shake up your routine.

Natural curiosity in the face of blind Elvis

2011-04-06T10:35:00.006-05:00

Last weekend, I met my first blind dude.

I didn't know he was blind. He looked nothing like Ray Charles. I met him when I walked into Amber's house, and it took about a half hour for someone to tell me he's blind - and even then, only because I sorta stepped in it.

See, Amber is gorgeous, but she doesn't always realize that. So when she was explaining how she felt fat and ugly (which we women do all the time when men aren't listening,) I said, look, take it from us. We're the people with functioning eyes who actually have to look at you. And she says, well, not exactly.

Seriously, he looks nothing like Andrea Bocelli.

Naturally, I am fascinated. What can you see? Basically light and color. How do you get around? Why are your eyes so pretty? (They are the color of honey; I am not kidding.) Do you have a dog? I don't care what you think, but you are so not driving.

He's awesome. He didn't seem to mind the barrage of questions, and I just find him fascinating. And I love him even more because he seems to have brought out the best in Amber. She describes him as "perfect" without a single thought to his eyesight, or lack thereof. He went with us to karaoke. He sings a perfect Elvis. And realize what all that means; he doesn't get the benefit of the words, or even knowing what song he's going to be singing before the intro starts. He can't read the screen, he just sings. (He also walks perilously close to the edge of the stage, but he's figured this whole thing out so he's fine.)

My day in Lake Geneva was fantastic. I came away with an awesome haircut, ate a delicious bagel sandwich, got to have some quality Amber time, sang a little karaoke, and had my eyes opened by blind Elvis. It really doesn't get much better than that.

Because I don't want to shave my legs, or why I will likely remain single

2011-03-28T12:49:00.002-05:00

I've been tossing this around in my brain for awhile, because it seems even at my advancing age, many people can't wrap their minds around the fact that I'm content single. Do I miss the companion ship of marriage? Yes. I miss Sunday mornings reading the paper. I miss having someone to help me carry the groceries inside. But for the most part, I am happier single than I ever was in my marriage. Have I given up? Well, not really. You have to want something before you can give it up! So here I offer you some of my very best reasons for remaining single. Enjoy!

Seriously, I don't shave my legs. Well, very often, anyway. During the winter, when I'm clad in opaque tights almost every day, there seems to be no point. In the summer, especially if I'm going to be at the pool, I'll put in the effort, but more often than not, it's just not a priority. (To be fair, I'm not very hairy. I could go a few weeks before anyone - including myself - noticed.)

I like having my time and my money to myself. When I'm in a relationship, I give up the reins on those two most important things. (Which likely explains why divorce left me bankrupt, but that's another story, never mind, anyway ... ) Now, my budget reflects my values, not those of someone else. Unless I were to meet someone whose values mirrored my own, or who had plenty of money and would never need to dip into my account ... it's just not practical.

The food. Good GOD, I love food. And I hate considering the needs, wants and allergies of others when I'm doing the cooking. Cooking for one is a complete joy, with leftovers.

I sleep in the middle of the bed. It took me awhile, but that's where I belong. Anyone who wants to share for more than a few hours had better bring a rollaway.

I don't look pretty on the weekend. Unless I have somewhere to go, I can often be found sans makeup, with my hair in a messy ponytail, wearing flannel pants, a sweatshirt and Uggs. The perfect ensemble for cleaning the house, or laying on the sofa watching a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon.

I watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathons. And Firefly marathons. And NCIS marathons. And I can spend whole weekends watching The West Wing. My choice. My house. My remote.

I drink milk and OJ out of the container, but I hate when other people do that.

The cat takes precedence. If the cat is on my lap, I will wait for him to move before I do. He's little and furry; his needs come before mine, and they sure as hell come before anyone else's. I mean, unless you're on fire.

I love my friends. I like spending time with them, and I like that time to be about me, and them ... not introducing someone new into the mix. Especially now, after so many friends from my Past Life are back in my life, I have no interest in making those introductions. Thank you, no.

I'm selfish, and I'm fine with that.

I travel with my dad. The ex got irritated when I would run off to Disney World with my family or my dad. Ya know what? Fuck you. I will never again apologize for the time I spend with the people who've known me the longest. They are awesome. Is it weird to be 44 years old and still go on family vacations. I don't know. But more importantly, I really don't care.

And that's where my brain is. I'm sure there are more reasons, but as it stands today, I am perfectly content. Because living alone is not the same as being alone.

Ten on Tuesday, March 22

2011-03-22T13:25:00.003-05:00

Sonofabitch, I've hurt my Achilles. Time to pause training, and hope to be able to pick it up again before April 10, the Shamrock Shuffle. (And while I'm at it, please say a prayer to whomever you pray to that I can not only run it, but finish injury-free.)
I have an appointment to get my hair cut on April 2. I was thinking I'd go short for summer, and then today I am having a fabulous hair day. Ain't that always the way?
The St. Arbucks vanilla coffee - the kind you buy and brew at home - is really quite delicious.
Yoga can be a really tough workout. I participated in a class last Sunday that featured 108 sun salutations. In yoga, it's a way to usher in a new season. I loved the class, although I was dripping in sweat halfway through. And two days later, my everything still hurts. Turns out those little buggers work every muscle in the body. Ow.
I've come to the conclusion that my friends are the most incredible people ever. I am participating in the Walk MS 2011, to benefit the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. Until rather recently - over the past few years - MS wasn't a cause I was even aware of, because it didn't touch my life directly. Then, I met my friend Gretchen, who is one of the fiercest and funniest women at the gym. She has MS, and she is working so hard to kick its ass. It is an honor and a privilege to walk with her, and I am honored to walk with the generosity of so many friends behind me. In one day, you blew past my fundraising goal and more than doubled it. Yup. My friends rock.
On a similar note, one of the people who sponsored me was my eighth-grade English teacher, Mr. Powles. How cool is THAT?
If there's on thing I can't stand, it's ignorance. If there are two, the second one would be the lack of kindness. It costs nothing to be kind. Sometimes we're a little incapable, but most of the time, it helps to remember that we don't know everyone's story; being kind to someone could quite literally be the best thing that happens to that person all day. Why not?
Are budgets ever really finished? I feel like just when I get a handle on mine, something else comes up to mess with me. It's a living, breathing organism, I guess.
So I'm participating in this thing that started on Facebook, where the first five people who commented get something handmade by me. I finished the first and am working on the second, and last week I actually received one! My Janie crafted for me the most beautiful quilted bag. It's in different green fabrics. It makes me swoon.
I think I'm actually gonna lose the second toenail on each foot. Kinda makes me feel like a badass. (Also kinda think it's gross.)

This week's 10

2011-03-16T11:56:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I think of the salad bar at Whole Foods as my personal chef.
I'm confused and befuddled. No one seems to be rushing to put on a telethon for Japan. I can't bear to watch the footage; the little bits I've seen are just devastating. I think it will be years before we understand the full effect of the earthquake, tsunami and eventual nuclear breakdown that happened over there, and yet the relief effort seems so much less than the outpouring for Haiti. Is it because Haiti is such a poor nation, or are we still upset over Pearl Harbor? Or is it something else that I just haven't thought of yet? I don't know, but it leaves me ... confused and befuddled.
I get a huge kick out of looking at clothing. I don't buy much, but I totally dig the realization that if I did, I could actually wear it.
Last night at the gym, a woman I don't know told me I look fantastic. Random encounters like that totally make my freakin' day.
For the first time in about five years, I listened to the Rent soundtrack. I love the music. I always respond to it emotionally, but since that guy I was married to broke my heart, it's been impossible to listen to. Some couples have a song; we had an entire musical, and Rent was it. But over the weekend, I got a hankering to hear it. I popped it into the car stereo and listened on my way to Long Grove, and it was as if it belonged just to me again. Sometimes the greatest joy comes from taking something back.
Speaking of Long Grove, I participated in a 5K race there over the weekend, and for the first time completed the run with an average of less than 15 minutes per mile. Yes, I am still one of the slower runners out there, but I'm only racing against myself. I have nothing to prove to anyone but me, and it's pretty amazing to feel the improvement over time.
People ask me from time to time what it is that I'm doing to lose the weight. Really, do they think I'm going to come up with some brilliant idea no one has heard before? I stopped eating everything that wasn't nailed down. I started exercising. When that stopped working, I ate a little less and I moved a little more. Lather, rinse, repeat. There is no magic pill, there is no miracle formula. Eat less; move more. Anyone who advises you any other path to health and wellness is trying to sell you something.
I'm pretty sure, however, that I was not meant to have that particular tightness across my shoulders. Lots of upper back work at the gym last night. Damn you, Pam!
There seems to be a whole lotta stupid going around. Can we vaccinate against that stuff?
Monster sweet tooth. That, and water retention, probably mean the scale and I are not gonna get along tomorrow. Sigh.

Ten on Tuesday, March 8

2011-03-08T12:42:00.004-06:00

Gotta run! I have a race on Sunday in Long Grove - the St. Paddy's Day 5K. Unwisely, I signed up for this not realizing that the night before is when we spring ahead. Yeah, I'll probably sleep like a dog that night.
I realize we're not even halfway through March, but I am already excited for April. I get to hang with two of my faux Bros! The weekend of April 9 & 10, Mike will be here, doing some training stuff. That means he'll be with me for the Shamrock Shuffle, the 8K I'm running on April 10. Should be a hoot! Then the following weekend, I'll be taking the First Roadtrip of Spring to head down to Charleston for Celebration Weekend. Looking forward to seeing the town and campus, not to mention The Poulters ... and strawberry bread.
There is one week out of every month during which I could eat pretty much anything that isn't nailed down. That's right now. You've been warned.
A girlfriend asked me over the weekend if I was dating anyone. The simple answer is no, and I won't be looking. Quite honestly, I have put five years worth of work into the person I'm becoming, and I really have no interest in sharing it with Some Guy. Sometimes, being on your own can be a lot less lonely than being in a relationship.
Like an idiot, I went to the gym last night only to realize I forgot my shoes. So there I stood, wearing a sweater and underwear, with no way to work out. The skirt and boots went back on, and I scowled the whole way home. At least next week, if that happens, it will still be light enough out that I can run in the 'hood if I want to. Sheesh!
I really like toast. The way it smells makes me happy. (And the sound of it being done, when the toaster plays the Mickey Mouse March, doesn't hurt, either.)
Had my "annual review" with the doctor last Thursday. Test results are all in. Overall cholesterol: 145; less than 200 is good. HDL (the good cholesterol): 72 ; more than 46 is good. LDL (the bad cholesterol): 59; less than 130 is good. Triglicerides: 72; less than 150 is good. Blood glucose: 81; less than 100 is good. (Other "girly" tests came back normal, too, in case you were wondering.) The nurse who called wanted to know what I was doing, because - as she put it - "I'd like to have numbers like that." There's no secret; it's just taking care of yourself. Eat less. Move more. Live in balance.
Over the weekend, I had a little chat with my nephew, Alex. Whenever I visit, he seems to conjure up errands that must be run. He's in Driver Ed, and can drive my car for practice, and who wouldn't want to do that? Anyway, when he's driving, he's also a captive audience. So I take the opportunity to impart great wisdom. This week's nugget? "It's never too early, or too late, to start becoming who you are meant to be." I think it's true, no matter who you are
I am in desperate need of a new pair of jeans. Perhaps this weekend, I shall carve out a bit of time to shop!
It's Fat Tuesday. Red beans and rice for lunch, and avoiding paczki for breakfast. Brings back lots of memories of New Orleans. The best of times, fo sho.

New Orleans, March 18, 1997. Most of the time, we were happier than this.

Ten things I've learned

2011-03-02T09:49:00.003-06:00

Perhaps you're tired of hearing about it already, but please bear with me. Running - and my quest for health in general - has taught me a lot in the short time I've been truly dedicated to it. I've learned a lot. Such as ...

I'm stronger than I think I am. There are things I can't do - like a pull-up - but most things, I can. I just need to try. I can do push-ups from my toes. (I can't get get my upper arms parallel to the floor while I do them, but I will. Fo sho.) I can run. (Intervals, but it counts.) I can take a few hours on a Tuesday night and torch 1,000 calories. I can hold Boat Pose in yoga. And one day, I'll be doing pull-ups. Guaranteed.
I found myself running. It sounds stupid, I know, to "find" oneself. I mean, I was never on the side of a milk carton, right? But I was lost for a long, long time. I had lots of friends and people who care about me, pointing me toward me, but it's hard, sometimes, having gone through the tough stuff to know who you are, where you fit in the world. But when you're out for a run, you are alone; yet, you're surrounded by people. Whether you're on a treadmill or on the road, there's a whole world reaching out to push you forward. You can have complete solitude as you compete with yourself to get you to your destination. It's kind of incredible. I found myself out there, this strong, independent woman who looks at a challenge and says, "Okay, let's go!"
It's difficult, but not impossible, to completely change your life. And grand, sweeping changes begin with one small step.
People make it worthwhile. I first entered my gym with a similar attitude with which I went off to college. Both times, my intent was to take a solitary journey, to accomplish a goal and be done with it. And both times, people have crossed my path of whom I have no intention of letting go. My life is more joyful not only because of my physical health, but because I am not alone on the journey.
Making others proud feels great. Making yourself proud is the shit.
You never know what you can do until you try. Scale a wall? Run a mile? Weigh less than I have in 13 years? Yeah, I can do that.
Setting goals is easy. Reaching them takes work. Every day. But after awhile, it really does become a habit. Most days these days, I reach effortlessly for my gym bag. It's expected; it's just what I do.
You can have the really good premium ice cream. You just have to measure out portions instead of eating out of the container. Like right now, there's a quart of Whole Foods' Salted Caramel Gelato in my freezer. For each half-cup serving, I log 160 calories. (No, I don't eat more than half a cup at at time.) I can do that a few times a week, and I feel indulgent and awesome. And it doesn't blow my calorie budget!
The rest really is as important as the work. I don't obsess. I work my plan, and it's all good. Part of my plan is rest - every Wednesday, I do yoga; nothing strenuous, no major calorie burn. Every Friday, I take a day off from working out. On Sundays, if I feel like it, I'll head outside for a run, but it's not required. The plan helps me strike a balance. And isn't that really what it's all about?
Small improvements feel incredible. The first time you're able to do something well - whether it's take a lunge deeper or do a perfect crunch or hold your plank - makes you realize that the work is paying off. It's not (only) about the way you look and feel; it's about the way the human body responds to the work. Your body will pay you back for every bit of effort you put into it.

Ten things that inspire me

2011-02-23T12:59:00.003-06:00

Yeah, the usual "10 on Tuesday" thing isn't working for me lately. Ergo, I'm changing it up a bit. I've been writing a lot at work about motivation and inspiration, and it occurred to me that I'm good telling others how to get it, but I don't spend a lot of time considering how I get "fed" in this way. So, I've decided to give it some thought. And then, give credit where credit is due.

People who are good at what they do. Whether it's a musician who makes the guitar seemingly sing on its own, or a chef who prepares my tuna melt just so, or an athlete who is "on" his or her game ... I'm generally honored to witness it.
Taking chances. I have friends who are pursuing their personal quests, fulfilling their dreams and following up on commitments, and it makes me so proud to learn of their accomplishments.
Getting back up. Sometimes, ya fall down. Sometimes, it hurts. Every time, the strongest among us get back up.
Breakfast. I'm at my most creative first thing in the morning, so a really good breakfast finds me jazzed and happy. The perfect cuppa joe, something carbolicious, and a yummy protein and all is well with my world.
Babies. I swear to God, I think they are born with all knowledge. The fact that, from babyhood, anything is possible ... it just amazes me. Those cuddly little creeps are awesome. (And I mean "creep" in the nice way.)
Road trips! When the weather turns warmer (and I really think it will), my thoughts turn to loading up the car, cranking up the tunes, rolling down the windows and heading down the road. Even if it's just for a day, the change of scenery refreshes my brain. It's like hitting the re-set button.
Ben Folds. Seriously, have you listened to him play? Oy.
My workout buddies. Many of them are in great shape. Most of them are in far better shape than I. Seeing what's possible, if you continue to take care of yourself, makes me look forward to what the future holds for my health and fitness.
Kindness. Last night at the gym, I was joking with a woman about our workout schedules and whatnot, and about how - after working out steadily for a couple of years - I still can barely keep a straight face when I refer to myself as an athlete. She, in all seriousness, said to me, "You are so much more of an athlete than many of the people here. Athleticism is in the effort as much as it's in the result." In that case, I'm an athlete. And her kindness and generosity of spirit helped me push myself through a very difficult two-hour workout!
Going barefoot. My floors at home are almost always dirty, but that doesn't matter, because it's winter. But soon - soon! - I will need to step up the cleaning, because when it's warm, this girl does not wear shoes, or socks. My loose happy toes make me feel grounded and happy. I'm ready to lose the shoes!

In sickness and in health

2011-02-17T10:41:00.002-06:00

So I feel crappy. I have dodged every illness that has plagued the universe all season long, and just when we get good weather (the forecast says we might hit 60 today) ... BAM. I catch it.

I'm rolling with it okay. Plenty of fluids, getting my rest, taking my vitamins. What more can I do? Not much feelin' like getting a workout in, although I have kicked it the last three nights. Monday was a glorious outdoor run; Tuesday, two classes (weights plus cardio) at the gym; and last night, hot yoga. Felt great to stretch and sweat. Tonight is supposed to be a run, but with the amount of energy I don't seem to have today, it's not lookin' good.

The surprising thing is, if I'm not up to running, I will miss it. I will miss doing something I avoided doing for years. Running, I've discovered, is my outlet. It's how I've found my way. It's solitary runs in nature, group jaunts to nowhere on a treadmill at the gym. It's training for the next race, hoping I won't come in last. And it's race day, when running becomes the single most enjoyable activity one can do all by oneself, in a large group of people.

Running is independence. It's something many say they cannot do, when most of them could ... they simply choose not to. (One sure exception? My brother.) It's the thing that makes me feel like a mess when I'm out there, and like a superhero when I'm done.

When I started running, I began to discover myself again. I ran back to Maggie.

It sounds crazy, and maybe a little new-agey. I knowthat, but it's okay. See, it's given me goals. Complete a 5K; complete an 8K; complete a 10K; try a half-marathon. Just try. See if you can do it. It's given me challenges, and with that, the opportunity to succeed.

I still run three minutes and walk two minutes, consistently, on every run. Can I still call myself a runner? Yes. I am a runner. I am focused on this body, these legs that carry me for miles each trip. I step outside, pick up my feet, and I fly - slowly and low to the ground - across the pavement. Even on days when I don't feel up to my scheduled run, I can still call myself a runner.

I am unbreakable.

I am unstoppable.

I am a runner.

Musings on a snow day

2011-02-02T08:39:00.002-06:00

I swear, I didn't think I'd ever get another snow day. I mean, I'm a grown up, mostly. Do we get snow days?

Evidently, yes. It's a marshmallow world.

I have to say, snow removal in my area has been incredible. Plows come by with startling regularity. If I needed to go somewhere, I could ... if I could get out of my parking lot, which has not yet been plowed. Anyway, it's pretty incredible. I'm planning to go out for a little walk later. You know, when the snow stops falling horizontally.

But here's the thing: much as it's a little creepy to see the universe shut down as it has, it's kinda nice. I will be holed up in my little home, knitting and watching movies (as long as I have power). It's a little forced r&r. I'll take it.

And of course it also gives me time to think and ponder, and thoughts begin to wander into not-so-ancient history. I'm hunkered down, and I'm alone ... but not. Let me 'splain.

No, let me sum up.

See, there was a time when I was firmly entrenched in coupledom. Married with two cats sort of defined my life, and for some reason, it made my world small. Now, in my "alone-ness" ... I am less alone than ever. I know that if I needed something, someone would walk to find me. Someone would get on a train to make sure I'm okay. Because my world is huge now. My life is full of friends and family, relationships I've nurtured which in turn enrich my life immeasurably.

Why? Well, I think it's because these days, I'm not putting all my energy into one relationship. I'm caring for myself, and letting that care trickle into many relationships with countless people who matter.

When you're isolated in a snowstorm, that is a great feeling.

Ten, Wednesday, January 26

2011-01-26T19:27:00.002-06:00

Life comes equipped with twists and turns. This keeps things interesting. For example, two years ago, I received what I felt was the worst evaluation of my career. Having been down several crappy career paths, I chose to see this as an opportunity. While I didn't agree with what was said, I did have to accept that this was my boss' perception. I could either work to change that, or find a different job. I stayed, did the work, and yesterday - two years later - I received probably the best review of my career. Words and phrases such as "masterful", "passion for excellence", and "cheerleader" were used. I'm still smiling.
I think the "cheerleader" reference is the most meaningful, because it was used to describe how I support my co-workers. See, there's been a lot of pressure over the last few months. It's been extremely rough, and some of y colleagues have given well beyond what is generally expected. And I was described as being their cheerleader - the person that pulls for ever member of the team, and gives accolades to my peers, because they're awesome. With these people, that's easy to do.
And oh, before I forget, I got a promotion. I am now a Senior Writer. That felt good.
Sometimes, even in these perfect moments, when everything seems pointed in the right direction, those evil thoughts creep in. "But ... are you missing something?" Being sans-partner, sometimes my mind asks me if I'm not getting the fullness of life, because I'm doing it on my own. Well, first of all, I'm not ... not really. I'm in it with a myriad of amazing people, and that is nothing like alone. Secondly, I think I'm one of those people who, when there's too much distraction, fractures the important. My career at Nalco took a downward spiral post-relationship; I'm not sure my career can handle a relationship. But finally - and this is the big one - I don't feel remotely incomplete. I am more whole today than I have ever been when I was dating someone. It would take an absolute prince to make it worthwhile to try.
I will be going to Tucson at least once this year. I miss the desert. It makes me happy. But wait ... it's not just the desert. It's the people! I will spend time amongst the cacti with Mike, Rae and Kaylee. There will be much fun, and delicious food. There is always delicious food.
This year I will be doing two different fundraising walks - one for MS, and one for the American Cancer Society. If I ask you to donate, feel free to just high-five me in support. No pressure, but a little somethin' is always appreciated, too.
The Friday before Valentine's Day, uber-great instructor Donna is teaching a 90-minute salsa/funk class at the poshest gym ever, and I'm going. If only just to use their showers afterward.
Take a bed of field greens, some chicken breast marinated in Buffalo sauce, then grilled and sliced, plus some chopped celery and grated carrot. Top it all with a little blue cheese and some ranch dressing ... divine. Buffalo Chicken Salad. You're welcome.
I'm out of Christmas candy. This makes me cranky.
You know around the small of your back, where lattisimus dorsi hang out along the spine, and the body sorta dips in? No? Okay, go find someone you love; I'll wait. Back? Good. Now, put your arm around your loved one's waist, resting your hand along the small of his or her back. Feel the little dip? Yeah. For a long time, mine felt like mashed potatoes. Now, it feels like mashed potatoes and muscle. Progress!

We May Never Pass This Way Again

2011-01-20T08:32:00.002-06:00

A few weeks ago, my friend Kathleen invited me to dinner in downtown Downers Grove. We had a lovely meal, sitting and chatting, and I felt a little bit like I was home.

I love this little town almost as much as my own little town, and much of that is because of one woman who first introduced me to it - the inimitable Ellen DeLordo.

I met Ellen when I worked at Nalco Chemical Company, back in the 90s and early 2000s. She made workdays fly by. She made life better just by being in it. She made amazing chicken salad. So, as I sat at the Lemon Tree Grocery a few weeks back, savoring a delicious glass of wine and chatting with Kathleen, I thought, "I should call Ellen, and see if she can join us." But I didn't want to intrude on my Kathleen time, and I figured I'd just call next time I was in town.

As it turns out, Ellen would not have been able to join us, because she was in the final phase of her life here on earth. And earlier this week, we lost her.

She's one of those people who has crossed my mind a lot over the years. She was a pillar of strength during the early stages of my divorce. She was a source of great humor and the best mentor a girl could ask for.

She was My Ellen, and I love her.

We'd lost touch, but always intended to get back together, for mint juleps or a glass of wine or one of her husband Randy's amazing Southern Comfort Old Fashioneds. Not that we were big boozers, mind you; it was usually one drink, curled up on the sofa, and then non-stop laughter for hours on end. The comfort of their home was like a warm blanket to me, and it had nothing to do with the house. It was all Ellen.

If there is a lesson in all of this, it's that sometimes, you can't afford to put off plans. We are all just an illness or bus away from leaving this life; we don't always get a second chance. I will have to learn to live with my regret for not having stayed in this amazing woman's orbit. It's a mistake I would not like to make twice.

Ten on Tuesday, January 18

2011-01-18T21:49:00.003-06:00

Today is Bex and Matt's anniversary. Happy anniversary, you crazy kids!
A group that refers to themselves as "constitutional conservatives and tea party members" began to follow me on Twitter. Seriously. I cracked up, then blocked them.
My workouts are seriously difficult, especially on Tuesday nights. I'm a little quivvery right now, and sort of really a lot in need of a hot tub.
Coming home tonight, I was greeted to a minefield of cat puke. Special.
I've been asked several times lately what inspired me to start running, so I figured I'd just go on record right here with the idea behind it. Because I can. It really is as simple as that. Well, plus a little measure of I didn't think I could. Proving myself wrong? Awesomesauce.
I am out of chocolate and there is no ice cream in this house. Tragic!
My friend Eric is in New Orleans on a work trip. Have I told you lately how much I love that town?
Donna, my Tuesday night instructor of all things good, choreographed a dance to "Raise Your Glass" by P!nk, on my suggestion. It was amazing to dance to it. Even better, because "Since You Been Gone" by Kelly Clarkson was also in tonight's mix. Perfect for this particular night. Happy birthday, Jackass.
My Godson and his family just got back from Walt Disney World. They shared photos on Facebook throughout the trip, and it was so much fun to watch. The only thing that would have been better is if I'd been along with them.
I love my life. It's a good one. I'm glad you're part of it.

The date and me

2011-01-17T11:11:00.004-06:00

I looked at my calendar just now. I had this nagging feeling that there was something significant about tomorrow's date. January 18 ... what is that? Stuart's birthday? No, that's Jan. 28 - exactly six months before my sister Jenn's birthday. What is it about January 18 that I'm supposed to remember.

And then it hit me.

January 18 is Becky Rice's wedding anniversary. Becky and Matt got married on my then-husband's birthday. Yep. That's it; tomorrow my ex turns another year older. Strangely, I don't even know what his age will be. (Well, we can do the math on that one; he was born in 1969, so he's 42.)

How did I get here? How is it that, in five year's time, so much can be forgotten, left in the past where it belongs?

Buckle in. There's a story here.

See, five years ago tomorrow (the actual birthday) was my last day believing the marriage could work. He let it be that way; there were presents involved. Mind you, I was unemployed at the time, but I pulled out all the stops. We went to dinner at our favorite restaurant. I showered him with gifts. (Literally everything that was on his Christmas list that he didn't get then, he received for his birthday.) We had what I thought was a perfect evening. It felt magical. Even though I knew things were not settled, that night, everything felt so right, I believed we would survive.

On January 19, 2006, he told me it was over. Classy, huh?

I fought it. I wept over it. I tried to find a job so I could fix what was broken (as if the budget was the only problem.) I wracked my brain trying to figure out where I'd gone wrong and how I could once again be someone he could love.

I lived in sadness, 24/7, until I was ready to stop doing that.

Time passed. I worked a part-time job. I worked two part-time jobs. I searched tirelessly for a full-time job I could love. I found friends, I rekindled old friendships, I tried to figure out who I was, without him. All of that took time, energy and antidepressants. None of it was easy.

Now, I could regale you with tales of his cruelty, and I could tell how about his wild life wooing the woman he swore was just his friend (which clearly explains why they're married now.) But this is my story, and they aren't part of it, so I'm not going to go there. Besides, if you read old posts long enough, that story is probably here in the blog history, so why beat that dead horse?

So I hunkered down to do the work, and four years ago began the job I currently hold. Starting this job was what I call Turning Point #1. On most days, it is exactly where I want to be. And on days when it's not, they still pay me, so it's a pretty good deal. I'm a writer. That's all I ever wanted to be. It took me 13 months to find a full-time job, but here I am, and I'm loving it. Still.

I continued cultivating friendships, singing karaoke, spending time with people who were good for me (and occasionally not.) My days were pretty much filled with work, friends, food and home. Not a lot of activity, just sort of surviving. And then, as I was about to turn 41, it occurred to me that if I didn't make some changes, I was going to have a pretty short life. And when it was time to pat dirt in my face, I was going to be a fat corpse; nobody wants that! So I joined a gym. This was Turning Point #2.

My first day heading in to Life Time Fitness in Schaumburg, I was terrified. Everyone walking in was thin and fit. I was going to be the only fatty in the entire building! (So not true, but that's how it looked.) But I went in anyway. I was determined not to care. Unless I was willing to always be the fatty, I needed what they had inside those doors.

I walked in. I worked out. I thought I was going to die. I finished, and I left. This was to be my routine. Then, one day as I was walking in, I held the door open for the woman behind me, who turned out to be my ex-husband's cousin. What are the chances? She and I began working out together, and with her encouragement, I tried my first Group Fitness class. (Turning Point #3.) We took Aqua Fitness (water aerobics; perfect for the fat girl!) and had a great time. We got pruney, and then we sat in the hot tub, where I met a man named John and a woman named Linda. After a few classes, they became friends. It's been years since the cousin has been at the gym, but she ushered in a whole new era for me. I will always be grateful.

John and Linda encouraged me to try different classes. Soon, I found myself in Hip-Hop, Salsa Funk and strength training classes. The weight slowly began to melt off. My life slowly began to blossom. Without my knowing, I was creating a life. We'd talk after class, we'd attend classes at other clubs together, and we'd inspire each other to reach for more.

Years past. Friendships solidified. I changed.

It was August of 2010 when I completed my first race. (Turning Point #4.) It happened pretty much as a joke, but I did it, and I was hooked. I signed up for more. I completed more. I have many more coming. I am a runner.

Seriously.

I'm not a good runner, but I'm a runner. And sometimes, I pause and I think about the past five years and I wonder, "who is this woman?" She is joyous. She is incredibly strong. She is funny, she is full of life, and she tries a little harder every day to amaze herself.

Happily Ever After is not just something reserved for happy royal couples. I know. I'm living mine. So, happy birthday, Christopher. Thank you for your part in making me whole ... even if all you had to do was leave.

They say it "passeth understanding" for a reason

2011-01-10T20:23:00.001-06:00

I still can't comprehend it.

Shootings in Tucson - home of people I consider family. Shootings that stole six lives, and left a Congresswoman miraculously fighting for her life.

And the only thing going through my mind is "mindless". Such a mindless act! It is beyond my comprehension how someone with infinite choices would choose this sort of violence.

Is peace such a difficult choice? Does it really, as the song says, "passeth understanding"?

I don't know the answer. I struggle with it a lot these days. I'm grateful on one hand that my Tucson peeps didn't choose Saturday morning to grocery shop. Yet, on the other, I know families are grieving for those who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, to be taken down by a madman with a gun.

And that's an important distinction: They were taken down by a madman, not by the gun.

You know I'm a liberal. It's not a four-letter word! You know I generally vote democrat and that I lean to the left in almost all instances. But I understand guns. I celebrate the fact that my friend Ryan occasionally brings home a deer from the hunt, and shares incredible steaks and roasts with me. I understand guns as sport. I do not understand guns pointed at innocent people for little or no reason.

Crazy knows no party lines, and Saturday's gunman was clearly crazy.

But instead of all the finger pointing we're seeing right now in the wake of such tragedy, I would ask for peace. Choose the path that leads us away from more violence. Choose to love. Choose the beauty of honoring humanity.

It's a choice. Make it, every day.

Ten on Tuesday - It's a New Year!

2011-01-04T11:29:00.002-06:00

I'm a simple girl with simple needs. I like it that way.
I spent New Year's Day with my friend Linda and her family. I love them! We had a blast; so much so, that when I looked at the clock and it said 11:30, I was shocked. Time flies whether you're having fun or not, but when you're having a lot of fun, if flies a lot faster.
Back on the food log bandwagon this morning. Good LORD, was there ever a lot of food in my life over the past few weeks! Jeezooey, am I ready to get back into my normal routine.
I'm at the Country House until Friday, and I suppose I should admit that I'm ready to come home. I will miss the massive bathtub and the wondrous kitchen, but other than that, I am beyond ready to get back to my digs. I was there last night for a little while, dropping off some stuff I won't need this week, and it just felt ... good. Right. Home.
Vacation was wonderful. I didn't accomplish much, but it was nice letting myself be off for awhile, to enjoy the house, curl up with the cat, and take a break from reality. I returned to work (almost) refreshed, ready for a new year.
My spin instructor is not teaching on Saturdays any more. What does that mean to me? It means I run on Saturdays now. I won't like it as much, but it will give me the training I need to accomplish my goals.
Which include running an 8k on April 10 (I'm already registered for the Shamrock Shuffle; I'll be joining Justin and Diane, and a cast of thousands!) and a half-marathon in early 2012. Lots of training to be done; can I do it? (Yes. Yes, I can.)
I didn't sleep very well last night. Can you tell by the ADD-style of this post?
I love brie in pastry. It is simply one of my very favorite foods.
There's something oddly satisfying about a clean calendar. Soon, it'll be full of notes and appointments and to-do's, but for the moment, it's just a blank slate. That's just plain cool.

So I'm behind

2010-12-30T10:54:00.003-06:00

I've been house-sitting for a friend, and her computer is in the basement. I don't like basements, so I haven't been online much; so I'm behind.

Suffice it to say that my 10 will be back next week. Until then, happy new year. Close out 2010, and ring in 2011, in whatever way you deem awesome!

My Top Ten Christmas Memories

2010-12-22T10:23:00.002-06:00

Growing up Bieritz was not the stuff of opulent Christmases. There were never mountains of gifts under the tree, but Christmas was magical all the same. You want proof?

Stockings. Dad affixed nails into the stone wall, so our stockings always hung by the chimney with care, and each year they held an orange, an apple, and some walnuts. Usually some chocolate Santas, too. Opening to stocking was awesome. They were made of green felt, an original Patricia Bieritz design, and they rocked.
Decorating the church. Times have changed, but back in the day, decking those halls was the sign that Christmas had come. Hanging roping around the choir loft, putting up the mitten tree, putting red satin balls on the big tree up front ... with every addition, the place began to fill with the scent of pine and the spirit of all that is good within us.
The year I figured out that, on Christmas Eve, I'm pretty. The rest of the year, I may be a sow by the side of the road, but there's magic to Christmas Eve. One year, when I was a teenager still stuck in a horribly long awkward stage, I had a red velour dress to wear to church at 11 p.m. on Christmas Eve night. I took a bath, did my hair, put on my face and looked in the mirror ... and the young woman who looked back was strangely familiar. I saw me, but I also saw beauty. This was a first ... and it happens every Christmas Eve. I don't know about you, but I think that night brings out my absolute best.
Midnight parties. When we were children, my parents used to invite the entire church over to the house after the Christmas Eve candlelight service. Doesn't sound like a huge deal, until you realize the service started at 11 p.m. and got out at midnight. Beef sandwiches, relishes, that incredible punch, a big platter of cookies ... we had guests until the wee hours, and no one seemed to mind; even Mom and Dad, when we were up after only a few hours of sleep!
Nana's coffee cakes. It was wonderful living in a neighborhood that shared treats with one another, and our neighbor Nana made these incredible coffee cakes. We looked forward to them every year. She taught my sister Jenn how to make them, and my mom learned, too, so the legacy lives on.
Magi, with a twist. Back in 1993, I was out of work. Circumstances sucked, and two of my favorite gifts - a plaid taffeta skirt for myself (oh, shut up; it was cute on me in the 90s!) and a camel hair jacket for then-boyfriend Stu - had to go back. I had less than no money; I couldn't afford them. On Christmas night, Stu came over for dinner with my family and we opened our gifts. Mine were meager, because I had no job and was starting college in January. We had just finished saying our thank-yous when two additional packages arrived. His contained his jacket, and mine contained my skirt. My sister Kathie and my mom conspired to fulfill Christmas wishes that had been abandoned. It still makes me cry when I remember how thoughtful that moment was. And trust me, I was adorable in that skirt.
Rice's first legal drink. My best friend and brother, Mike Rice, turned 21 on December 20, 1996. (That was the year, wasn't it?) Anyway, I was still at school wrapping up stuff before heading home for the holidays, and Mike was back in Jacksonville, IL. And it sucked, because he was turning 21 and there was no one with whom to celebrate. Well, why not? I jumped in the car and headed his way, as any good sister would. I loved being in that house at Christmastime, and I loved being able to make my dear friends birthday a little more special, even if it just meant flat beer at a townie bar.
The opal. Years ago ... years and years ago ... my friends and I used to exchange gifts. Many were homemade. None were extravagant. Except for the year when Kelly, Patrick and Darrin gave me an opal ring - the very ring I had admired in the window at Page jewelers. I should have known, when Kelly insisted I point it out to her ("is it that one, Margaret?") over and over again, that sometime was up, but it totally flew past my head. I still have that ring. It still gives me great joy, because of the thoughtfulness behind it.
Christmas Eve with Diane. When we were in college, my friend Diane Schmelzel and I realized that we were heading "home" to places near each other - I to Montgomery, and she to Naperville. So we agreed that every Christmas Eve, because we would probably always venture home at that time of year, we would share breakfast or lunch together. We've missed a year or two due to illness, but it is a most welcome tradition to share with an old friend.
The year Mom bought Dad a new saw. She drove to Morris ... through a blinding snowstorm ... and tried to tell the story over the din of Christmas morning. It always makes me giggle to remember her shouting over our chatter, "IS ANYBODY LISTENING TO ME???"
Bonus reason! Not that it's a memory, really, just a feeling I have. I bet, somewhere back in the old house, where my dad, brother and sister still live, there are Christmas gifts, unwrapped, in plastic bags, hidden so well even Mom couldn't remember where she put them. She was very good at that.

Ten on Tuesday, December 14

2010-12-14T19:48:00.003-06:00

I love my cat. Like, really love my cat. Which explains why I feel an extraordinary amount of guilt for the way he is not adjusting to our new, temporary digs. He and I moved about 30 minutes north for a month, to watch a friend's house and critters while she (the homeowner, not the cat) is travelling. The fuzzy dude is not handling this as well as I'd hoped. But then, this is only day one. Hopefully tomorrow will bring Good Things.
I'm going to learn how to snowshoe. On January 9, I'm taking a snowshoe clinic. Then, on January 30, I'm participating in a snowshoe 5k. I probably need my noggin examined.
This has been a hard week on the diet. Most days, I've been over on my calorie intake. I need to nip this in the bud so it doesn't get out of control, because let's face it - I like wearing pants.
Sometimes, things work out when you least expect them to.
I'm pretty good at meeting deadlines, but when I miss them, I miss them big. Things at work are flying fast and furious these days, and I totally blew past a deadline this week. I was supposed to turn copy over yesterday. I just started routing today. That is probably the first time this year that I've been in this situation, but that really doesn't help me feel any better.
On the good side of things, I learned last evening that my niece Kaylee in Tucson wants to spend Christmas with me. I would love to spend Christmas with her, too (not to mention her mom and dad,) and think maybe in a few years I should plan a December trip. Wouldn't it be nice to wake up on Christmas morning to a cactus, instead of two feet of snow? I mean, just once?
One of my favorite memories - even if I do have to share it with my ex - was of the first Thanksgiving after my mom died. We went to Tucson. We had Thanksgiving dinner outdoors. It was completely wonderful, the perfect antidote for the sadness of it being that first year sans mom.
I need a haircut.
I feel guilty because I didn't make it to the gym tonight, although I'm pretty sure getting Benld and I moved in to the Country House was the right thing to do tonight.
I love you. I love that you log on and read my ramblings, and I love you, just the way you are. (With apologies to Billy Joel.)

Number 10

2010-12-10T19:26:00.003-06:00

One week ago today, I woke up and immediately began to cry. Baseball legend Ron Santo was gone. In those first moments of understanding, I felt incredible loss.

My Tucson family was here, and my crying woke them. Try explaining to a four-year-0ld why you're crying over the death of someone you've never met! But some day, she will understand. Some day, it will make sense.

When I was a little girl, my mother's love of Ron Santo didn't make much sense to me. But looking back, it's really quite simple. There was a time when the greatest players in every game played for the sheer love of their game. There were no great salaries in professional sports, but you could see the joy on their faces as they played. Watching file footage of Santo, that's what you see: joy. I think Mom identified with that.

Mom remained a Cubs fan all her life, a trait she passed on to her children. My favorite players were Andre Dawson, Jody Davis and Kerry Wood, but there was always a special place in my heart for Ron. When I would watch the broadcasts on television, I would turn the volume down so I could listen to Pat Hughes and Santo's commentary of the game. Ron loved the game as much as my mom did, so listening to him was almost like having a bit of Mom still with us.

And so today, Ron Santo was given a final sendoff. The day included a prayer service at Holy Name Cathedral, followed by a procession past the Tribune Building and around Wrigley Field. Watching the celebration of his life, I'm reminded of his courage, having followed his career dream while dealing with diabetes. His sense of humor, as a man who could laugh at his own toupee catching fire. But mostly, his intense love of the game.

We'll miss you, old #10. Thank you for sharing your joy with my mom, and in turn, with me. Heel click, and out.

Fraudulent behavior

2010-12-08T20:56:00.003-06:00

Sometimes, I feel like an utter fraud.

I mean, if you're not a great writer, can you call yourself that, even if it is your job title?

Can you call yourself a runner if you still can't run a consistent 15-minute mile? Hell, if you can't run the full mile without slowing to a walk?

Can you call yourself a knitter when you keep ripping out rows?

Can you say you're a good housekeeper when you just found another massive dust bunny?

Can you be a good cook and only just have learned to boil an egg?

Ten on Tuesday, December 7

2010-12-07T11:19:00.010-06:00

1. This is me, photographing a group of friends prior to the Santa Claus run on Saturday, December 4. This is also a great view of how much I love books, one of my favorite projects from college, and my leg ... which is smaller than I recall.

2. This is the whole crazy group of Santa runners - Lorna, Di, Justin, Re-Pete, Schlex, Rebekah, Mama Dee, me, Linda and Pete.

3. Same group, with our beards. Ever seen anything so awesome in your life? Didn't think so.
4. Tucson Mike, Racheal and Kaylee were here the end of last week. It was a magical visit, complete with a train ride, the view from atop the Sears Tower, lunch in the Walnut Room (accompanied by the worst server in the history of the planet,) almost skating at Millennium Park, and dinner at Meat & Di's. But the very best part? Watching Kaylee, my little desert baby, enjoy snow. She kept picking up bunches of the fluffy white stuff, throwing it in the air, and saying "This is the best day ever." Yeah, that's enough to make an auntie's day, too.

5. Practice makes perfect. I had my first rehearsal last night for a Christmas show. All music, small cast, very fun. One weekend only, December 17 and 18. Wanna go?

6. I ran last night at the gym. It pissed me off, because I had a much better run than I did at the run over the weekend. Maybe running indoors (instead of on snowy streets) is that much easier. Maybe the treadmill is nicer to my knees. Maybe I'm a wuss. I don't know, but in a half-hour run, I actually ran 23 out of 30 minutes, which is a new record. Now I just have to increase it little by little until I'm running the whole 30 ... and then get to the point where I can handle running an entire 5k. I must be crazy.

7. But I think it might be catching. See, last weekend, several of my crazy friends gathered for this Santa run thing. And much as I know it's not just because of me, they weren't shy about telling me they never would have done it if I hadn't suggested it. Who ever would have thought that I would be the one to organize people and urge them to run? Does it make sense that the slowest runner in the bunch, who can almost but not quite squeak out a 15-minute mile, is the mastermind? Probably not. But fun is fun, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

8. There's also a hidden benefit to being the slowest in my group: I get a cheering section! I can't explain how amazing it felt to have my friends cheering me on at the end of the race. They make me realize I can finish. I love them for that.

9. I also love Christmas music. But not the crap they play on 93.9 here in Chicago. It's the same songs every time I turn it on. Do they not realize that Hall & Oates are not the only people who recorded "Jingle Bell Rock," or that many artists have covered Brenda Lee's "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree"? Seriously. If you must play the same song every two hours or so, at least play a different version! I have about 10 different versions of each of those songs; call me, I'll share!

10. There are only 12 more get-ups until my Christmas vacation begins. Holler.

Ten on Tuesday, November 30

2010-11-30T21:28:00.002-06:00

Can't believe November's virtually over. Now we launch headlong into December ... the greatest month of the year, if only it could be warm. I am just not cut out for this winter stuff.
Driving home from the gym tonight, a little snow started to fall. And the song "First Snowfall" came up on my CD ... it was a perfect moment. Chilly, but perfect.
The Rices are coming back! Mike, Rae and Kaylee return from their the downstate portion of their vacation on Thursday, and they'll be with me until they have to leave for the airport on Saturday. I love having them here.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I sat down several times over the last week to write and reflect on Thanksgiving, and what it means to me ... and every time, it just came out like a monologue about my dad. I guess that's the real deal. My dad is gratitude, and forgiveness, and joy, and generosity, and faith, and humor. Of all the things in this world for which I am thankful, my dad tops the list. Every freakin' time.
I don't understand the lure of American Girl dolls, but I can promise you this: economic recovery is upon us, if the number of people spending money on their products is any indication. That place was SWAMPED on Saturday.
One more thing I'm thankful for: Dad's stuffing.
Skinny Cow truffle ice cream bars. Get some.
Work is driving me completely bananas. But that was a short trip, anyway.
This weekend I have my third 5K of 2010. I am determined to run as much of it as I can, although my knees really hurt this week. Ouchie. But one way or another, I will run, and I will finish. (Then, I will eat eggs.)
Bath & Body Works "Need a Margarita" body scrub is the best-smelling yumminess ever. Seriously.

Ten on Tuesday, November 16

2010-11-16T13:03:00.002-06:00

I like kale. Tuscan kale, to be exact, and I prefer it prepared by my friend Rebekah, in a soup where it's combined with white beans, turkey sausage and an amazing broth that just makes your taste buds sing. Delicious.
I also like cannoli. Someone broght some in to the office today. I ate a quarter of one, and counted the calories. It was three bites of deliciousness.
I'm working out hard these days, and it's paying off. Last night I ran for half an hour and did the elliptical thing for half an hour. Almost 700 calories, torched, and felt great in the process. Next step? Metabolic testing. Need to save my pennies, but I want to know my actual zones and where I'm burning fat. I've been guessing, and it's been working pretty well, but I'm ready to maximize my workouts. After I buy new running shoes, that will be my next investment.
Which is interesting to me, because slowly but surely, I'm finding that my money is lining up with my values. I have always said that I value taking care of myself, but I had a hard time ponying up the money to really do it. Now, I make sacrifices in order to sign up for the next race, or eat better foods, or have the right equipment. I'm proud of that.
Speaking of the next race, yes, I'm doing the Santa Run on December 4. Then after that? The Frozen Zucchini Snowshoe 5k on January 30. Yes, I know ... I'm nuts.
I bent the hell out of my fingernail. This does not make me happy. It hurts.
Mike, Racheal and Kaylee will be here in a few days! This means I need to clean, buy some groceries, and rescue my twin air mattress from the storage locker. And bake cookies.
I had to scrape the ice off my car yesterday using my gym membership card. Guess I need to buy a window scraper, huh? (Busted my old one by slamming it in the back of the Jeep.)
Only six more get-ups until Thanksgiving. THANK GOD. Four-day weekend, here I come.
My friend Rebekah (she of soup fame) cleaned out her closet again. Which means I got a ton of new clothes, a down jacket, and a carload of stuff to take to Goodwill. I'm wearing this gray sweater today that makes me look far skinnier than I actually am. Yeah, it rocks.

10 on Tuesday, November 9

2010-11-09T15:44:00.003-06:00

1. I'm a runner. For a long time, I thought I couldn't use that title, because I have yet to run an entire 5k without taking a break to walk. But I have to admit it: I am a runner. I even smile when I run. (To be fair, I smiled because there was a camera there. Normally, I think I look like I'm dying a slow death while I run.)

2. That photo, for those who don't know, was taken at the Hot Chocolate 5K last Saturday. It was awesome. Beautiful day on the Chicago lakefront, if a bit chilly (at 21 degrees Fahrenheit when we woke up at 6 a.m.) And I did it, running most of the way. The next race? December 4 in Arlington Heights.

3. There are only 11 get-ups until Thanksgiving. There are only 9 get-ups until Mike, Racheal and Kaylee come visit. Damn, I'm gonna need to clean.

4. I really hate it when I ask a question and get a response, but not an answer. I'm generally pretty clear (believe it or not) so I'd kinda like the occasional answer, please. Thank you.

5. Last Saturday night was my sister Kathie's 50th birthday party, at Luigi's House. My dad told me the party was at Key Wester. Yes, he thinks he's funny. (I caught on because I know Key Wester has closed; try harder next time, will ya?)

6. My knee is a little tender today, but it made it all the way through the race happily and without incident. Let's hope this is a trend!

7. It's in the upper 60s here in Chicagoland, and I'm loving it. So far, autumn has been perfect. Some chilly days, some downright cold days, and then days like this. True Indian summer, folks ... enjoy it while it lasts.

8. Of course, the fact that it's dark when I leave work now sorta cuts into my enjoyment of the weather. I'd like to go for a run, but it's dark. Must invest in some reflective gear.

9. I need a haircut. That means I need to go to Wisconsin ... and I don't know when I'm going to have time to do that! Calgon, take me away.

10. I am so looking forward to the holidays ... mostly because between Thanksgiving and the new year, I have 11 weekdays when I'm not working. Between vacation and holidays, I'm getting a much-needed break. A little time to breathe ... is just around the corner.

Ten on the day after my sister Kathie's 50th birthday

2010-11-02T10:59:00.004-05:00

Today is election day. I woke up early so I could vote before work, because Tuesday is really my only non-negotiable gym night. I always have this moment of panic before I walk into the polling place, as if they'll turn me away or something weird will happen. But I go, and when I'm finished, I feel like I did something important. I'd do it again if I could.
What is it about human nature that makes us think, at times, that we are not worthy when good things come our way? I roll pretty well when things go bad. I practically expect it. But when someone is generous to me, or when something incredible happens ... I find it almost impossible to handle. Something to work on, right?
I'm really nervous about the race on Saturday. I know I can do it. The worst case scenario is that I'm the last person in the 5k to cross the finish line. I'm a really slow runner; it's possible that I'll crawl across the finish while some of the 15k folks are finishing. I'm trying to be okay with that. My biggest fear in the world, believe it or not, is making a fool of myself. So cross your fingers that we don't have that kind of episode on Saturday, because I'd really like to not suck at this. I've been assured that adrenaline will help propel me forward, and I'm sure the chocolate at the end will help, too. I'll just be glad when it's over ... and I can focus on the next race.

Actual photo of me in my last 5k.

The weight is taking its sweet time coming off. Sure, 18.5 pounds over the course of 11 weeks is a little over a pound and a half per week. That's nothing to sneeze at. Do that over the course of a year and we're talkin' major change. But I'd kinda like to don a bathing suit next June and not run the risk of being harpooned. Just whining at this point. Do not send bonbons to soothe my soul.
A cream cheese jalapeno popper has 73 calories. Just sayin'.
I'm going away but staying home over the holidays. What? Yeah. A friend of mine, who lives in a beautiful big awesome house in Long Grove (a quaint little tourist town to the North) is going away for three weeks, and I get to house-sit. She has two cats, so it might be a challenge introducing Benld to the mix, but other than that, I can't foresee any negatives. Sure, my drive to work will be a little longer, but from December 24 through January 4, I'm not workin', anyway. It will be a wonderful little respite for writing, scrapbooking and relaxing, plus focusing on the diet and exercise. Doesn't that sound like the perfect way to usher in a new year?
I will be exceedingly glad when this election is over. I'm a very "live-and-let-live" kinda girl, but when you're ignorant and loud, I really don't need to hear from you again. Thank you for not mailing me any more propaganda; you suck. (This goes for both sides.)
Mike and Racheal will be here in just a few weeks. You know what that means? Pie.
My sister Kathie turned 50 yesterday. One by one, my sisters are approaching this milestone birthday. Pat did it last year, and Jenn's turn will be in a few years. Then, it will be me. 50. It still seems old to me. I can't believe I have sisters who are 50 years old, much less that I will celebrate turning the same age in ... well ... not too long! (It's out there, waiting!) Lots to accomplish between now and then; look out, world!
As much as I'm not a good runner, I'm a worse sit-up-doer. I suck at crunches, and pretty much all ab-related activities. (Which means I need to do them more; grr!) I'm so bad at it that I use every available muscle group to help. Yesterday, I was still feeling the pain from Saturday's workout. In my neck. How sad is that? So, post-race, that will be my focus: discovering the six-pack, buried deep behind the keg.

Think Different

2010-10-29T11:43:00.006-05:00

I became an Apple fan the moment I began using their technology in college. They worked the way I think. And their "Think Different" ad campaign really hooked me, so when it was time to buy my first computer, I went iMac, and never looked back.

I do think differently. (And yes, that is grammatically the way the phrase should read.) That's what makes me ... well ... me.

Which got me thinking about our upcoming election, and all of the junkmail I am receiving, all the ads that are playing on television and the radio, all the crap that's spewing about.

The fundamental difference between the two parties, it seems is that Democrats welcome people who don't think, or behave, or live like they do, and Republicans ... don't.

How sad is that?

Every issue, from abortion to immigration to spending to separation of church and state to gay marriage, appears to boil down to the right believing only they are right, and the left thinking there's room on the field for everyone.

Thankfully, the Republicans' world is not the world we live in, and it's emphatically not the country our founding fathers envisioned. And I'm not saying the Dems have everything correct, because they don't. There are flaws on both sides. But the ads and campaign rhetoric is making me crazy with the finger pointing and the ignorance.

It doesn't matter to me how you vote, but I hope you do vote. And I sincerely hope that you do so with your own mind, thinking for yourself. Thinking differently, if that's what works for you.

The fine print: I don't generally post political information or opinions. I find that sometimes it causes flaming language (from people who are clearly not gay.) Don't be that person. Don't attack me for having opinions. That's why this blog is called "Maggie's World".

It's Tuesday, so Maggie must have 10

2010-10-26T13:03:00.002-05:00

You can seriously burn yourself when frothing milk for your morning coffee. Just sayin'.
Daylight saving time can hurry up and end. I'm ready to fall back, and I'm also ready for it not to be butt-crack dark when I wake up in the morning. Sheesh!
Running. I'm running. Last night I had the best run of my career to date. (Sarcasm implied.) But I still won't be even close to the Kenyans, who are coming in to run the Hot Chocolate race on November 6. They can run. I saw them on the Subway commercial.
After the race, I'll still be running, but probably indoors. And I've challenged myself to try the rock wall. I've always been afraid to do it; no one wants to look up and see that, right? But by the end of the year, I'm going. Who's with me?
Nothing makes me wash my dishes faster than curry. It tastes delicious, but when you can still smell it 15 minutes after your food is gone, it's motivating.
There are 21 get-ups until Thanksgiving.
The creator of Rocky & Bullwinkle (and Dudley DoRight) is dead. That's truly the end of an era. And no, don't pull a damn thing out of your hat.
I am still eating to the chicken tortilla soup from last week. I think next time I'll try to cut back on the recipe, so I'm not eating it for a week and a half. Although that does remind me of the time Mom & Dad went on vacation and left us food ... which was pretty much just one huge pot of chili. Yeah, Mom had a sense of humor.
There are moments when I still get really pissed at Christopher. I know I'm happier now than I was with him, and I know he couldn't begin to be the person I deserve to be with ... but sometimes it still gives me pain. How is it that he gets to walk off, free and clear, while I'm still dealing, all these years later? It doesn't seem fair. But then, no one ever said life was, now, did they?
And then I'm reminded that I may not be where I intended. I may not have the life I planned. But I have a great deal. I have a wonderful family that makes me laugh (and occasionally reminds me that it doesn't matter; a mouse has pooped on it.) Amazing friends who have my back, all the time. I have a kitchen full of nutritious food, a car the runs (and makes me smile) and a home that may seem a little bit like a dorm sometimes, but is really and truly my home. It didn't work out the way I planned, but this life thing? Yeah, it's pretty stellar.

Ten on Tuesday, October 19

2010-10-19T11:26:00.002-05:00

I'm a little Debbie Downer today. Had a wonderful dinner last night with amazing friends, but I fear I overdid it a bit on the guacamole. I love guacamole. I hope it doesn't show up on the scale.
For the first time in many years, this weekend I will be attending Homecoming at my alma mater, Eastern Illinois University in Charleston, IL. I'll be staying with my ish-brother, Chunk, and his girlfriend, Erin. I've been promised chili, a campus tour, and time with old friends. Should be a fantastic weekend. Wish more of my old J-school peeps were gonna be there, but I think a little time in the place where I found myself is just what I need right now.
I thought I had turned a corner with the whole running thing, because last Friday I actually had a wonderful run/walk workout. Then, Sunday's came, and I wanted to die. Every run is different, but I have to keep trying. I've come to terms with the fact that I probably won't be running the full 5k on November 6, and I'm okay with that. I'd just like to not feel like I'm dying while trying.
Soup is good food. This fall and winter, I'll be making a lot of it. Generally low in calories, impossibly easy to prepare, and delicious ... right up my alley! On Sunday, I made a crockpot full of chicken tortilla soup. I'll be having it for lunch all week, and that's just fine by me. YUM!
If Target doesn't have it, you probably don't need it. Seriously.
Last Saturday, my friend and former roommate, Emily, took the train out to the Heights to have lunch with me and do a little catching up. It was so good to see her! Hard to believe she's been here for over a year now. I love that she's truly become a city girl. I'm proud of who she is. It makes me happy that I was able to be a part of her fresh start in Chicago.
Also last Saturday, I went with my friend Dawn to see "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change" in Libertyville. Two of the cast members - "The Scotts", as I call them - were our fellow performers in the Summer Showcase back in August, and it was such fun to be part of the audience and enjoy their talents. It was such a fun day to be around friends ... definitely a reminder of how lucky I am.
I haven't been to Wisconsin since my birthday weekend. I need to finalize plans to get up there in November; I miss my people! I'm looking forward to being up there in the fall, even though the leaves will probably be off the trees by then. I'm thinking bonfire. Doesn't that sound perfect?
If you sprinkle a little pumpkin pie spice in the brew basket with your coffee, then steam and whip some skim milk to go in your mug with the coffee, you'll have a delicious, spicy concoction that tastes like fall, and is so much better than the bologna latte Starbucks tries to convince me is delicious. Speaking of which, I am going to have to find a way to fit the caloric intake of a peppermint mocha into my weekly allotment. It's almost that time of year!
I'm really tired of the political ads and phone calls and mailers and stuff. But what I'm more tired of is Christine O'Donnell in Delaware. She has cornered the market on stupid crazy, and if the people of that fair state vote her in, I just don't know what to say. It's one thing to dabble in witchcraft. I really don't care; she's right, we all did stupid stuff in college. It's quite another to have no grasp on the first amendment, nor any understanding of what it says. Church and state, lady - they are separate. It's okay with me if you don't think that's the way it should be, but the fact that you didn't know ... that's unfathomable.

Ten on Tuesday, October 12

2010-10-12T13:42:00.003-05:00

I made sweet potato soup/peanut soup last week. It's amazingly delicious. I added a bit too much chipotle, but all fiery flavor aside, I like it. And as co-worker Lisa continually tells me, spicy food revs the metabolism.
This running thing is really messing with me, in a good way. I am sleeping like a baby (minus the crying and peeing the bed part) and feeling pretty strong.
That in no way should be interpreted to mean that running is getting easier. There is a reason why I've never been a runner. Two reasons, actually. 1) It's hard. 2) I'm not very good at it. But I keep trying, keep practicing, keep moving forward. I do worry about my knee, but I am as careful as I can be. Besides, the more weight that comes off - and it comes off faster when I'm running - the happier my knee will be.
Sometimes, it's easy to feel sad and wish that I had someone else's life. Or more of my own life. This weekend, I experienced a computer glitch and just about had a meltdown. It irritates me to no end that I can't just go out and buy a new computer, because the budget can't handle it. It sucks that, at my age, there are so many things that I still have to save for. And then, I think about all the people I love, and I feel like George Bailey - the richest man in town. Except I'm not a man. But then you knew that already. I hope.
I am not dressing up for Halloween this year. I'm just not inspired to create a costume. I guess after last year's snake fiasco, taking a year off won't be a bad thing.
After my run/walk last weekend, I've had to accept the fact that there is a significant chance I won't be running the Hot Chocolate 5K on November 6. I will be completing it, I just may have trouble running the entire thing. See #3 above for clarification; I am not good at running. (I'm at about a 16.66 minute mile for running/walking. Yeah, I'm a pro.) It's a little depressing, and then I remember that the original goal was to run a 5K in the spring. This is fall. I'm already ahead of myself!
Balance. Right now, I'm feeling like my life is in balance more than it ever has been. I find it no coincidence that this is also the longest I have gone in my entire adult life without a significant other. I am the sort of person who gives too much of herself to a relationship, and loses too much of herself in the process. So here I am, enjoying this amazing balance between friends and family, work, health and solitude. Should there ever be another significant other (hey, miracles happen!) I'm sure I will handle it differently. Because this balance thing feels pretty damn good.
Along with balance, I'm loving the variety I have in my life right now. When it comes to working out, I have running, dancing, weight lifting, cycling and ellipticalling - well, what else do you call using the elliptical trainer? At mealtime, I have an awesome variety because my friend Lisa and I are sharing lunchtime preparation - I never know what I'll be having. And I'm also spending time with a lot of different people. It's nice to have such a range to choose from.
I really wish they'd learn how to regulate the temperature in my office.
Can you believe it's the middle of October? This year has flown by, and doesn't show any signs of slowing down. It seems like only yesterday we turned the calendar ... where did the time go?

Ten on Wednesday

2010-10-06T08:41:00.002-05:00

My friend Kathleen turns 40 today. I have known her since 1989, when we did Godspell together at Aurora University. I like that I have known her more than half of her life. Anyway, the birthday party was last Sunday in Aurora, and so - of course - I went. It was wonderful. Delicious nachos (only a few), monstrous margaritas (I ordered one and drank only about a quarter of it; any more and I would've been sleeping in the booth!) and wonderful company. But the best surprise was seeing Little Jane - my friend Tracy, who played Little Jane in Three Postcards back in 1991. It was a night to catch up, share a little sorrow (we're both half-orphans, and her loss is still fresh) and surround ourselves with love. It was Kathleen's party, but I feel like I got the present.
I ran on Sunday. I'm running again tonight. I'm determined; as long as my knee holds out, the thumping in my chest and the gasping for air will get better. Right?
My house is a mess. So tonight there are three things on the to-do list: Make soup, run and clean. Doesn't that sound like fun?
I don't know if it's the weather or what, but lately I've been waking up with headaches. Coffee seems to help a little, but what I really want is another couple hours of sleep. Maybe this weekend?
Probably not. I'm spending this weekend scrapbooking with Diane. I paid my admission to the Sweet Scrappin' Escape weekend with the money Dad gave me for my birthday, and Diane (as incredible sweet as can be) sprung for the hotel room. So it's just us and our scrappy goodness. I guess I'd better pull my supplies together and decide which album to work on, huh?
Back to Kathleen's party ... sorry, there were a few nice things that were said to me that I just have to get on record. First of all, when Sherry walked in, she told me I was melting away! YAY! Sometimes it's nice to be around people you don't see all that often; they notice when you change. Then her husband, Jack, was re-introducing me to their son, Jackson, whom I haven't seen since he was a child. (He is now in college.) Anyway, he says, "You remember Margaret. She's precious, and everybody loves her." So there you go - don't forget it.
My calendar is rapidly filling up; it's like October is already gone! This weekend, I have the scrapbook "retreat"; next weekend, I have a lunch date with Emily; the weekend after that is Homecoming at EIU, and I'm going. (Ish-Bro Chunk and his girlfriend Erin have graciously invited me to stay with them; blast!) Then the weekend after that is Halloween, which means Ken and Melissa's party (where I'll spend the evening playing with Simon), Hafla-Ween with Teri and other assorted bellydancers, and hanging out on Halloween with Rebekah and her kids. That's it; that's October. And then we get in to November, which kicks off with the Hot Chocolate Run on November 6, followed by my sister Kathie's birthday bash that same evening. Where does the time go when I'm not looking, hmmm? (For the record, I am so not complaining. While I enjoy having a bit of free time, I also love the feeling of being with my many and varied, wonderful friends.)
Sometimes, when I get home from the gym, I take a bath and put on cashmere pants. Thanks, Rebekah.
Soon, Starbucks will begin serving peppermint mochas again, and I'm going to have to find a way to work them into my calorie budget. I love them. They taste like Christmas to me.
Did you know that my birthday is the official start of the holiday season? This was decided during a conversation with Brienne at the office, when I was explaining that September is my birthday month. "Why not just take it all the way to Thanksgiving?" she said. I like the way she thinks.

Ten on Tuesday, September 28

2010-09-28T21:56:00.003-05:00

Hi!

I can tolerate anything but ignorance. Stupidity I can handle, because the stupid lack the capacity to learn. But ignorant people could do better, and they simply choose not to.
Spin class is my knees' new favorite activity. It helps build my leg muscles, puts very little strain on the knees (as long as I'm concentrating on my form) and keeps me in constant motion for a full hour so I torch a metric shit-ton of calories. Sweet!
Thank heaven Dad loaned me his hold space heater a few years ago. My apartment has been about 62 degrees at night for the past several nights, because my landlord is a jerkweasel who won't turn on the heat until he legally has to. I stay cozy, thanks to the space heater, and Jenn's gift of an electric mattress pad.
I run slowly. But I do run. And stumble. And limp. And complain. I'll be doing all of that on November 6, during the Hot Chocolate 5k in Grant Park. It's a 5k (duh) run (there's also a 15k), followed by a chocolate party. Holler.
This is my second year embracing autumn. It's working out very well for me. One of the sweetest outcomes of my divorce is re-discovering my ability to be happy, no matter my circumstances. He hated the cold, and it rubbed off on me ... but now, it's not such a tragedy. It's just autumn.
I think the American workday should include a siesta.
My friends amaze me. Their generosity of spirit just overwhelms me sometimes. Whether it's Linda providing me with the nutritional supplement that helps my knees, or Rebekah emptying her closet of sweaters she doesn't wear (but are totally my style!), or the simple things like a family member checking in with me (and wanting to do the Hot Chocolate run with me - yay Kathie!), or my sister Jenn giving me potatoes (and anything else I can sneak into my bag when she's not looking )or the countless other ways love just pours out - it just means I am incredibly fortunate.
My skin is showing its age. I think I have new wrinkles under my eyes, and can we talk about those creases at the corners of my mouth? Can this be fixed? Or slowed down? Or am I just meant to let my face become a roadmap?
I love that Patrick calls me whenever he has a trivia question to which he doesn't know the answer. It keeps us connected ... mostly because my mind is a vessel filled with minutia.
I really wish I knew how to play the guitar.

Ten on Tuesday, September 21

2010-09-21T21:05:00.002-05:00

My knee is like a teenaged girl. You never know what you're gonna get. Some days, it's a real asshole, bitching every time I ask it to move. Others, it's completely compatible with my life. It's pissing me off, but I keep moving.
I tried to keep moving at the gym tonight, but within the first hour of my workout - strength training class - the power went out four times. When they finally evacuated the cardio floor, many people stayed behind to see how long it would be before they opened everything up again. I, on the other hand, got into my car and drove right on home to have a little nummy dinner. I don't feel guilty - I made the effort to walk at lunchtime - and it just seemed like the right thing to do.
I've been cheating on my blog. There's another, and you can find it here. I started blogging to follow my efforts to get all healtified. It's been helpful to have an outlet for the crazy. Read it if you wish, or just ignore it. No big.
I totally loved doing the Blackhawks Training Camp Festival 5k with my nephew. Such a fun day! And no, I'm still not a hockey fan.
Massage. Gimme. Now.
I love thunderstorms. Tonight's was particularly gorgeous, because there was a little daylight happening, so you could see the clouds and the everything and the pretty. Beautiful. Just beautiful.
I made chili over the weekend. Chili, with a little whole wheat macaroni, and homemade corn muffins. Sometimes, I am awesome.
I received an email from an old friend's wife today. I've never met her (the wife, not the friend) but she sought me out to invite me to his birthday party. You never know when you'll be honored with such a request. I wish I could go - I can't, because A) no travel money and B) I'm actually busy that weekend, but one of these days I'll find myself with a raincheck, and I'll show up. How cool is that?
I need to stretch more.
I always wanted to be the girl people noticed when she walked into the room, because of her clear and undeniable beauty. I got half my wish: usually people notice me because I either fall down or laugh really loudly. It's me. I'll take it.

Ten on Tuesday, September 14

2010-09-14T14:17:00.002-05:00

The intensity with which stupid is applied sometimes makes my head spin.
I'm hungry. But then, I'm hungry a lot. A few weeks back, I crawled back onto the Calorie Counting Bandwagon, and I've learned to welcome that hungry feeling. And it's paying off! Little by little, the pounds are melting. Again.
Over the weekend, I had breakfast with my friend Jessica - I call her Shakespeare. Anyway, this breakfast was our last meal together for a year. She's going to Ireland to study for her Master's Degree. I'm terribly proud of her, but I am going to miss her face something awful. She is the co-founder of Choose Awesome, and a complete doll.
I got cable TV and a DVR just in time for my favorite shows to end their seasons. My Boys, Psych and Royal Pains ... all done for the season. BOO.
I was actually going to audition for a show. Wheaton Drama is doing Little Women, which my mother was in back in high school, and I think the story is just outstanding. I would love to do the show, but seriously - they have a performance on Thanksgiving! Nope. Sorry. Not giving up my favorite holiday. Something else will come along.
Sometimes I still get sad at having been left by every man who ever promised not to leave. It's not constant, but sometimes ... it just pisses me off. But then I go to kickboxing and learn not to care.
I got my boots back out, and actually wore a pair this week. I love boots. I would really like another pair or two this year. Alas ... they are beautiful, but they are not cheap.
This weekend, I'm taking my nephew for a walk. He and I are participating in the Mad Dash to Madison, the 5K run/walk or 10K skate associated with the Chicago Blackhawks Training Camp Festival. Should be a ton of fun, especially because he's a huge hockey fan, and I like the Chicago Stadium. Okay, it's the United Center, but I still miss the old Stadium. Anyhoo, hopefully there will be many photo ops and a good time will be had by all.
I would really, really like to move. My landlord is just beyond uncooperative, but so far most of the places I'd like to live are cost-prohibitive, regardless of the prices they advertise online. Oh, and the one place I really love? Yeah, it's almost $500 a month more than I'm paying now! Unbelievable. I thought places were hurting for renters? Guess not so much.
I lost my favorite sweater. It's black, with three-quarter sleeves and just one button, up at the neck. It was my go-to sweater, and I have no idea what happened to it. It's been gone since before summer kicked into high gear, and now ... I'm not sure how I'm gonna navigate autumn with out it. Have you seen it?

Ten on Tuesday, September 7

2010-09-07T10:54:00.002-05:00

The Birthday Weekend Edition!

Karaoke on Friday night was an absolute blast. I haven't seen Steve in years, and he was there. Tim showed up, too, fresh from his two-week year in Korea. Add Amber and I to the mix, along with a bunch of really great singers, and it made for an incredible night of music. And that one crazy woman. No, it wasn't me.
Saturday was chilly. So much for my day at the beach! But still, it was lovely. Amber and I wandered around town, ate sandwiches on the lakefront, read our books and enjoyed the sun while it lasted. A perfect afternoon, in my opinion.
Dale and Candy invited me over for dinner on Saturday night, and in typical fashion, it was delicious. Steak and pork fajitas, red pepper tamales, homemade pico and guacamole ... is there any wonder I keep showing up at their house? To say nothing of watching "Tropic Thunder" and laughing our fannies off. It was an ideal birthday-eve!
Sunday morning was fun, because I share a birthday with Amber's boyfriend, Chris. The three of us went out for breakfast, and our server brought Chris and I a pancake with a candle in it. That, in addition to my delicious roasted vegetable skillet ... heaven!
Sunday night I was in Aurora, at Millie, Eric and Andrea's place. Again with the delicious food! Can I just say ... potatoes in the smoker? I'm still dreaming of them. Anyhoo, Sunday was my actual birthday, and it was delightful to spend the evening around the fire pit with old friends, new friends and a completely relaxed atmosphere. I can't imagine a better way to cap off my birthday.
Monday was a day spent with Dad and Mike. I'm not gonna lie - the whole weekend was pretty emotional, because there's a lot of baggage wrapped up in my birthday, but spending a day back home was the exact right thing to set my head and heart back on straight. There's something about being home, and being with my dad, that reminds me of who I am. It helps me make a lot more sense to myself. And the food there is also delicious. Turkey, sweet potatoes and sweet corn ... does it get any better than that?
I hurt my knee in a new and different way on Friday, when I lifted my heavy bag to make my way to the car. It's in the back this time, and I can't straighten my leg. Which is, ya know, just great for a girl who is trying desperately not to interrupt the workout regimen. I'm gonna try to do the elliptical tonight instead of dance class. Hopefully that will be a little more predictable, and I can avoid further injury. Dammit.
Sometimes it's really difficult to do what's best for myself. In the moment, ice cream sounds perfect. Blowing off my afternoon walk seems ideal. Throwing caution to the wind is intriguing. But I'm getting a little too old for that, at least if it hasn't been carefully planned.
I love that my cat is always happy when I come home. Unless he is sick, he always greets me at the door. I know that this is because he wants to be either fed or held or both, but still, it's the sweetest thing.
I had a horrible time sleeping last night. The wind was fierce, slamming against the little plastic accordion things that fill the space in the window that isn't filled by the air conditioner. So picture, if you will, a half-asleep Maggie rising from bed at 2 a.m. to yank the damn A/C out of the window. Yes, it happened. And I finally fell (and stayed) asleep.

Ten on Tuesday, August 31

2010-08-31T10:21:00.000-05:00

I’m really fed up with dental insurance. My dentist left my plan and is no longer a preferred provider. I realize now that I should have asked before I made the appointment whether he was in my network, but damn, did it come as a surprise that my check up and cleaning were no longer 100 percent covered. Not even 50 percent covered. Ouch. Needless to say … I found a new dentist.
Today someone said to me, “You look so nice today.” And I just said “Thank you!” No self-deprecating humor, no explanation of how wrong they are … just thank you. Aging divorcee learns new tricks.
Speaking of divorces, my birthday is approaching, and you know what that means: the nine-year anniversary of the dumbest mistake of my life. Getting married on my birthday was a tactical error. Marrying Christopher was just plain stupid. Divorce is expensive because it is so very worth it.
My friend Eric’s sister’s boyfriend makes really good pizza. From scratch, even the dough. It’s delicious.
People occasionally make me stabby. Ignorant people, even more.
So remember awhile ago when my phone crapped out and I was all ready to go iPhone? Yeah. Now the damn Blackberry is working fine, and I can’t justify the cost of changing something that works fine. Could someone please run over my phone?
I am not a Blackhawks fan, but my nephew Alex is. This explains why I have signed both him and myself up for the Mad Dash to Madison, a 5k run (or walk, thank God) on September 18. The race is the kickoff for Blackhawks Training Camp Festival, and I think he and I will have an absolute blast.
For those of you playing the at-home version of our game, that makes three active events in my life this year – Relay for Life, Muddy Buddy and Mad Dash. Next year, the goal is to comfortably run a 5k, sometime in the spring. It’s a whole new Maggie.
There are moments throughout the course of any given day when I would give just about anything to be back home, snoozing in my comfy bed. This is one of those moments.
I am kicking off Labor Day weekend in a most unusual and fun way – Fish Fry and a Flick on the Milwaukee lakefront. They’re showing Zombieland, and serving (duh) fried fish, plus they’re having a lobster boil. Yeah, I thought it sounded like a good idea, too. Wanna come along?

10 on Tuesday, August 24

2010-08-24T11:34:00.003-05:00

Four months from today is Christmas Eve. My favorite day of the year.
I do not have good posture. I've been trying to hide behind myself for years, with the mistaken impression that sinking will make me disappear. It will not. It merely makes me look old and hunchy. Working on that. Shoulders back, head up ... smile.
Paralysis. Again. I don't know why, but some times, I just can't bring myself to do things that need to be done. Case in point: before I posted this, I made myself call the orthopedic doc and my dentist to make appointments. I'm a few months overdue for the dental appointment, and I should have made the ortho appointment last week. I'm not sure why, but sometimes I struggle just getting stuff done. So here I am, keeping myself honest. For the record, I see the dentist tomorrow at 5:30, and the ortho guy on Thursday evening.
It is not a mosque, and it is not at Ground Zero. Because of the surrounding architecture, you won't even see the cultural center from the area we continue to call Ground Zero. There are strip joints closer than the not-mosque. Just because people say things loudly does not mean they are true.
A tortilla, a mound of yummy baby greens, some grilled chicken and a drizzle of honey mustard dressing. The perfect lunch, especially when work friend Lisa shares her red grapefruit. I didn't know red grapefruit was delicious. It is.
Does anyone know why the television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer is shown on LOGO - the cable channel designed for lesbian and gay viewers? And furthermore, what's with "lesbian and gay"? Doesn't "gay" pretty much sum it up? Why is it necessary to have a special word for women?
Last night I slept really hard, but in stages. Woke up at 2 with my eyes crusted over; fell back to sleep and woke again at 4. When the alarm went off at 6:18, I had once again fallen into that deep, yummy sleep. I'd rather have it over the whole night, but either way, I'll take it.
I have made my Labor Day weekend plans! You guessed it - I'm returning to Lake Geneva. It's simple, it's close by, and I get to spend time on the water. Amber has promised to make me crab legs. Is it any wonder I keep going back?
It took a long time, but I really like water. Other than my morning coffee and the occasional adult beverage, it's pretty much all I drink. Sometimes, for a treat, I have Diet Coke. So when I think that my road to becoming healthy is taking too long, I remember little victories like this. It matters.
Got back from my lunchtime walk a little bit ago. We were chased by a skunk. Nope, not kidding. It was cute, and scared the bejabbers out of me.

Weekend Update

2010-08-23T12:58:00.004-05:00

I realize I'm not on Saturday Night Live, but it was a packed weekend, and I didn't want to try and stuff it all into a Ten on Tuesday post. So here's my Weekend Update!

Friday night, I stayed home and did laundry. (Seriously, do I know how to party or what?) Saturday morning should have meant gym time, but instead I found myself monitoring my cat's digestive habits. (Thank me now for sparing you the details.) It was late morning when he finally proved he didn't need to go see the vet, and I started packing to head North to Wisconsin. After cuddling Benld and telling him he's awesome, of course.

On my way to Lake Geneva, I stopped to have my oil changed and my tires rotated. Now, that may not sound like a big deal to you, but I always feel like I've made an accomplishment when I take care of my vehicle. It makes me happy, keeping el guapo happy. Soon, I was on my way again, pulling into Lake Geneva just in time to make my 2:30 appointment for a haircut. I loved coming into town and seeing the Ferris wheel on the lakefront - a sure sign that my favorite festival, Venetian Fest, was under way.

After the haircut, I drove over to Amber's house and unloaded my stuff from the car. We said our hells, and I grabbed her bike to ride back toward the lake. I wanted to spend my early evening reading and enjoying the beauty of my little hometown-away-from-home. I curled up on a blanket and watched the clouds go by as I read. It was heavenly.

Amber and I went to dinner at Champs, home of awesome burgers and garlic Parmesan fries. Then, there was little left to do but head home, shower, curl up and read some more before falling asleep.

We both woke up pretty early on Sunday, which made it possible to fit a lot of activity into one day. First on the agenda? Breakfast at Egg Harbor. Mere words cannot describe my lobster/asparagus/tomato fritatta. I would like a bit more of it right now, please. It was breakfast perfection.

There was time to get a few hours in at the pool, so we took our books and big glasses of water out and got our share of sun. The pool at Chez Amber is so pristine, I always feel like I'm at a posh resort. Divine!

After all that activity (laying in the sun can really take a lot out of ya!) we took naps. Seriously - I fell asleep so cozily, and slept for almost two hours! When we got up, it was time to primp and head to Tim's mom's house for his going away party.

This is me, with Tim. He's adorable. Love that guy; I'm gonna miss him.

Tim is returning to Korea to teach. He likes it there. He'll be gone for a year. I love his thirst for adventure! I also love that his mom threw him a great party. Lots of food and music and people who love Tim; is there any better send-off?

When we left Mary's house, we headed for the lakeshore to see the water ski show. So much fun! It's goofy, but I totally love it. We watched for about an hour, and then headed to the second party of the day, at David's. We ate his food and then walked back to the lakeshore to watch the fireworks.

So freaking pretty! The Venetian Fest fireworks are the best in the area. We "ooohed" and "ahhhhed" throughout the display, and (of course) missed Kelly. Although Amber, David, Gene and Julie are wonderful company, fireworks without Patrick and Kelly is just a little off. Not bad, just different.

Anyhoo, when the fireworks were over, it was time to head home. An hourlong drive at 10 p.m. on a school night might not sound like a good idea, but it was totally worth it! When I got home, I showered off the insect repellent and got into bed, falling almost immediately to sleep. Then when I got up this morning, I headed out the door a little early, so I could stop at the grocery store on the way into the office.

Breakfast and lunch for the whole week - check. Good attitude - check. Feeling like I've had an amazing weekend - check. All is right with my world.

10 on Tuesday, August 17

2010-08-17T09:42:00.003-05:00

August 17. Really? Kids are already beginning to head back to school. All my friends who are teachers are bemoaning the end of summer. How quickly it slips from our grasp!
My friend Angelicque celebrated her 40th birthday by throwing a big party, complete with yummy food, lots of friends and family, and the funkiest cake known to man. She also invited a lot of mosquitoes, and one of them bit me. On my big toe. Yes, I'm bitter about that. But not about the pasta; oh, sweet Lord, the pasta.

Me and Angelicque, as the party began to wind down.

I graduated physical therapy. I am not "done" by any means, but I had my last appointment today. There is still a lot of homework I'll have to do to stay on the road to healthy knees, but I'm on my way. A little nervous, but I think this might have been a turning point. That being said, I will be very glad not to have to get up at 4:30 a.m. any more to make it to a 6:30 a.m. appointment in Aurora. Makes for very long days!
I ate three tomatoes grown in my little container garden. May not seem like a huge accomplishment, but it's a big deal to me! They were delicious. I love that I just had to walk downstairs and pick them, slice them up and chomp. Divine!
This weekend, I will be attending a going-away party for my friend Tim, who is heading back to Korea to teach. I don't see him very often, but I will miss him very much. The best part is, this means I will be in Lake Geneva for Venetian Fest - great fireworks, and maybe even a corn dog! Woot!
Tomorrow night is tapas with my theater friends. Tony actually found a place that serves all-you-can-eat tapas for $19.95 per person. Considering the fact that my share of a tapas dinner generally comes to about $60, this is a bargain. They may regret offering me this deal.
I want a massage. Actually, I would really like a full day at a spa - massage, pedicure, facial, maybe a yummy salt scrub. Alas ... poverty.
Totally love having cable. I've been watching a few shows with the "On Demand" feature, and I totally love Psych (seriously, could Dule Hill be any cuter?) and Drop Dead Diva. Can't get too crazy, now - I'm not the type of person to sit and watch for hours - but I must admit, it's nice to come home and just relax for an hour at night, have a few laughs and be entertained.
With the weather cooler this week (meaning, not 90 degrees and humid) I may bake something. Doesn't banana bread sound good?
I'm intensely grateful for my friends and family. Sometimes life feels tough, and I just need to cry and flail, or sit on my pity pot, or mope. Sometimes, it's all three. And you let me, as long as I need to. Then, you help me up and push me forward. It's good, knowing you're there, with all that faith in me and stuff. I'm a lucky girl.

The inner thoughts of the North American Maggie

2010-08-14T11:31:00.003-05:00

It's been a tough week, with a lot of time spent on my Pity Pot. My knee isn't healing as well as I'd like, and after last weekend's performances, it's actually gotten worse. The work is really hard - both at physical therapy and at home - and I'm not sure I'm seeing progress. This makes me sad. I want to feel better. I don't expect the knees of a 20 year old, but maybe 30? 35?

Anyway, on top of all that, photographs were taken at the two performances I was in last weekend. I am in several of them, and there isn't a single one that makes me happy. I feel like I am the fattest, ugliest person in every room, no matter where I go, and now there is photographic evidence to support my theory.

I've never been what I call "traditional pretty" ... but I didn't see myself the way these photos show me, either. I look like an ugly man in drag. It's sad.

So I shed a few tears, and then just came around to accepting it. If that's what I look like, well, fine. I'll be the best damn fat ugly girl you've ever seen!

This morning, I woke up with plenty of time to make it to the gym, and yet I lay there, trying to come up with a good excuse. My knee hurts. I'm tired. One more week won't kill me. And then I remembered that Linda won't be there on Thursday, and I don't want to miss seeing her, and I had already told Simone I would be there ... so I got up, got dressed, and went to the gym.

My friends there love me, and they treat me so nicely. I shared a little bit of what has been troubling me with Linda, Simone and Mama Dee, and they could not have been more wonderfully supportive. I love them. They motivate me just by breathing.

And ya know what? I had a great workout. Before class started, I did my PT on the BOSU - those half-ball thingies that test your balance to the very limit. Yeah, I have to stand on them on my bad leg for as long as I can. Did pretty well, in fact. Then, I did an hour of strength training, followed by an hour of spin. Great classes, tons of calories burned, and a few yummy endorphins to banish the naughty self-talk, if only for a little while.

So that's where I am. Hopeful that I can get over the hump, that my injury will get better and that I will continue to get healthier. And grateful for the people who care about me enough to encourage me to keep going when I'd rather take a nap.

10 on Tuesday, August 10

2010-08-10T11:10:00.003-05:00

Lots going on. Lots on my mind. Guess it's time to get it all down in writing, huh?

There is no better feeling in the world to me than completely nailing a song, and I did that on Saturday night. In the second show of the Summer Showcase, I served up a rendition of "When You're Good to Mama" that gave me chills. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, buckle up.
I met some incredibly kind and talented people during rehearsals and performances of the Summer Showcase. This is by far the most amazing cast I've ever worked with. Everyone brought their A-game, and yet they were incredibly humble and kind. What a treat.
Therapy is going okay. Today, my left glute feels like someone is stabbing it constantly with an icepick. Oh, muscles ... why must you speak so loudly?
Sleep and I are not getting along. Sunday night, I think it was because I wasn't at home, so I was out of sorts. Then Monday night, I'm all cuddled up in bed and ... watching ... the ... clock. Sleep kept blowing me off. I'm over-tired, and my body is just not cooperating with me. Soon, I will curl up and find the happy. I hope! Tonight I'm planning to go to the gym and just get myself tuckered out. Then it'll be home, bath and zzzzzzzzzzz ...
I have not had a good hair day since June. Ahhhh, humidity.
I am not as foolish or forgiving as I once was.
Venetian Fest in Lake Geneva is coming up in a few weeks. I think I'm going to take a long weekend and head up there. And maybe go up again over Labor Day weekend. I need to sneak myself a little vacation, somehow. Either that, or save it for the end of the year and just take December off.
My stapler is really heavy. I believe in weaponized office supplies.
I have still not given myself a pedicure since the Muddy Buddy. That is at the top of my "Things to Do This Weekend" list. Well, that and go to the gym Saturday morning (I've missed my routine!) and possibly take myself to see Eat, Pray, Love. No, I'm not above taking myself out on a date. I may treat myself to dinner, too.
I was so looking forward to life slowing down this week. Now that it's happened, I'm a little sad. Wrapping two shows in the same weekend left me with a bit of a hole, and I don't want to fill it with chocolate, so I think I'll try yoga. Again. Seems like a healthy alternative, no?

Standing in the Wings

2010-08-09T10:37:00.002-05:00

I used to be incredibly active in theater. I would go from rehearsing one show to another ad nauseum, often overlapping and never missing a beat.

Okay, rarely missing a beat. Seldom missing a lyric.

As I've gotten older, I've intentionally stepped back. It's harder now. It takes a lot of energy to step into the spotlight and turn yourself over to the crowd, working with everything you've got to entertain them. Which explains why I am completely exhausted as I write this.

I spent my weekend rehearsing and performing three shows for two separate theater companies. And while I'm glad I did it, I am equally glad it's over!

Friday night found me rehearsing for the Summer Showcase with Liberty Town Productions. My friend Dustin Helvie recruited me for this show, a musical review of Broadway over the past 50 years. I sang "When You're Good to Mama" from Chicago, and sang duets of "Easy Street" from Annie with my new best friend Tim and "What is This Feeling?" from Wicked with Abbi. Plus there were three group numbers the whole company performed - "The Time Warp", "Seasons of Love" and "You Can't Stop the Beat."

We rehearsed Friday night and all day Saturday, from 9 a.m. until about 5:30 p.m., with breaks for food. Then, shows at 6 and 8:30. This cast was incredibly talented. I loved listening to them sing as much as I loved performing myself. It was a little bit magical.

Kelly drove up from Carbondale to see the show, and I gotta admit, it was amazing to have her in the audience. Because I don't do this very much anymore, it meant a great deal to have someone rooting for me. And willing me to remember all my words.

By the time we ended the last show, I was a marshmallow. My brain was done. It was time to sleep.

And do another show on Sunday! This time, it was with old friends and new annoyances. But my focus was on my old friends. Maybe it was my near-exhausted state, but I was blown away by some of my incredibly talented friends. I really hate The Sound of Music; it ranks among my least favorite shows of all time. But when my friend Julieanne sang, the tears came. Lots of tears on Sunday, actually. Hearing Patrick sing "If You Believe" from The Wiz, and then the all-out weepfest that was Curt Parry's rendition of "Never Met a Man I Didn't Like" from Will Rogers Follies. I just couldn't turn it off.

Curt taught me everything I know about my voice. No one has ever made me work harder musically than that man, and I will always be grateful. Not that I think I have a perfect voice, but I have the voice I have because Curt taught me how to get it. He always treated me with dignity and respect, and always appreciated what I brought to the table ... and all of the admiration I have for the man spilled from my eyes as he sang.

This time, I was surprised to find not just Kelly and Ed in the audience, but my Amber, too. She came down from Wisconsin, sick as a dog but full of love, because she wanted to see me perform. The effort my friends made this weekend just blew me away. It mattered, and I appreciate it so much.

So while the show will never go down in history as one to entertain the masses, it had great meaning for me. It brought me back to where it all began - literally, because we performed on my high school stage - and left me comforted by voices from my past which were now blissfully part of my present.

And when it was over, when the final bows had been taken, I stood in the wings, looking out onto that stage where so many memories have been made. Sometimes, you can go home again.

Ten on Tuesday, August 3

2010-08-03T11:22:00.002-05:00

Gas is expensive. I'm learning this the hard way, as I'm driving a lot these days. Back and forth to Aurora twice a week for physical therapy isn't cheap. Thankfully, Rice-a-Roni is cheap! I can always cut the budget in some areas to make up for shortfalls in others. Aging divorcee learns new tricks!
Yesterday was a wonderful day. Sure, there was the usual Monday work stuff, but after that I went to Physical Therapy, and then stopped at my dad's for a visit. I got to mooch a little dinner and hang out with Dad and Mike for a bit. Alex and Kathie had to run out to get Alex a pair of shower shoes before he leaves for camp on Thursday, and as I was saying goodbye, Alex told me he'd say goodbye to me when I came back after PT on Wednesday. So, I'll be making another trip to Dad's (which means mooching another dinner - see how the budget works out?) because Alex really seems to want me to. Nothing makes an Auntie feel better than knowing her shining light loves her back.
After visiting Dad, I called my sister Jenn to tell her I really liked Bernie's potato salad. She politely informed me that she, not her husband, made the potato salad, and asked me to stop over at her house to pick up a yoga block she was holding for me. So I made my way into the woods ... and ensured myself that I would not need to buy produce any time soon. Potatoes, peppers and tomatoes, straight from the garden. I'm going to make the most delicious stuffed pepper when I get home from the gym tonight!
To those who are tired of hearing it, I apologize, but I gotta say again - MUD. So much fun! And I've lost count of the mosquito bites. Yowza, getting up at the ass-crack of dawn makes you a veritable buffet for the nasty blood-suckers!
This weekend is show weekend, and after that, a much-needed return to normalcy. Not complaining - I like being busy, and I'm having a blast - but it will be nice to settle down a little bit.
I think I have a cold. Woke up this morning with a very dry throat, and I've been sneezing my fool head off. Here's hoping my voice is happy for the weekend!
The best job in the world? Fairy Godmother. Not sure how to score that gig, but damn, that would be fun.
My mind tends to wander, sometimes in the middle of the conversation. I'll be talking with someone about a vitally important topic and hey, did you see that butterfly?
I am ready to upgrade my phone. My plan will allow me to upgrade. And yet, I wait. I'm going the iPhone route, after waiting several years to drink the Kool-Aid, but my (sad, pathetic) Blackberry still works fine. In the new financial reality that is my life, I simply cannot bring myself to upgrade simply because I can. Again, aging divorcee learns new tricks. Maybe a birthday gift, from me to me? That may be the best idea yet.
Getting to the gym these last few weeks has been challenging, but I haven't missed a Tuesday night class. That feels good - making time to get there, even if it's just one night. I'm supplementing with near-daily walks with co-worker Lisa at lunch time, which serves a dual purpose. We get a little exercise in, and we return to the office sweaty, thereby keeping people from spending too much time with us in the afternoon. Win-win.

A very dirty story

2010-08-02T15:37:00.004-05:00

I did it. I set out to finish the race without injury, and I did it. It took Team Inconceivable one hour, 46 minutes and 28 seconds to cross the finish line, but let's face it - it was never about the time. It was about challenging myself to try something different, and I did that.

I entered, participated in and finished the Muddy Buddy Relay on August 1, 2010.

It was an amazing day. I was scared out of my mind. We arrived at 6 a.m. amidst incredible fog. I couldn’t see the Randall Road exit off of 90 when I was on the exit; that’s the kind of fog we’re talking about. I took a few minutes to mentally prepare, got out of the Jeep, put the front wheel on the bike and made my way to the race site. The event took place on Indian Hill Horse Farm in Gilberts, IL. We’re in farm country, folks. Watch where you step.

I got into line to register and waited for co-worker Mike to arrive. He and his wife, Emily, were coming in from Chicago, so they had a bit more traffic (and the same evil fog) to contend with. Soon, we had signed our waivers and were registered, we got our free t-shirts and goody bags, and it was time to get in line. We were in wave 10 of 17 total waves, and I was having an anxiety attack. What if I couldn’t do it? What if I embarrassed myself, and my friend? What if … ? Fear will do that to ya. I looked around and realized I was one of the larger competitors, and decided not to let it get to me. We are all just people. Our stories are different, but the person who crosses the finish line first is not all that different from the one who crosses last. I was just there to do my best. At that, I cannot fail.

Soon, our wave was at the front. I had to pee, but that’s nerves for ya. The airhorn sounded and I got on the bike, only to encounter an immediate huge mud puddle. And I mean MUD. Gucky, mucky, suction to take off your shoes, mud. I rode through it, hearing Emily’s sweet voice from the sidelines cheering me on. She’s taking pictures of me riding this bike, I thought. Great. The world can see my chunky self. I won’t care if I finish!

Off I went. Soon we were on blissful paved road, and I though, p’shaw – I can handle this. Then we came to hills. Way to go, smart ass. But I trudged forward, quads burning. Determination, thy name is Maggie.

When I got to the first obstacle, it was time to dismount the bike and leave it for Michael, who ran the first leg. And then, it was time to climb a wall.Yeah, I said it. I CLIMBED A WALL! Up and over, and down the cargo net on the other side. It was like a seven-foot climbing wall that you’d find in a gym, with the little toeholds along the way. Yeah, I did that. Felt great. Then, it was time to begin my first running leg.

I thought I was going to die. My shoes quickly got muddy, so it was like running with an extra 10 pounds ... but I kept going. I thought I was going to die. I thought my lungs were on fire. Just before I got to the second obstacle, I contemplated quitting. But then, I wouldn't get to say "I did it". So I kept going. And breathing. And moving through this mucky waterlogged soil direct from hell. Finally, I came to the second obstacle.

Time to do my best military crawl, under nets on my belly. Fun, until I hit my head on a pole. I have a goose egg! I was looking down, because if I looked forward my helmet would get caught on the net above me. And the indoor/outdoor carpet beneath the nets was really scratchy (says the girl who would shortly be covered in mud). Oh, well ... on we go.

Got back on the bike, only to realize that I am not an accomplished off-road cyclist. Tall grass, wet ground, and more than a few twigs and rocks made for slow going, and a great portion of this leg I simply walked the bike. There was just no way I could bike it without endangering the other cyclists. Or runners. Or wildlife. When I was able to, I hopped back on for more of the sick burning quad workout, but most of this leg was just not passable for me on the bike. But that was okay – my goal was not to be perfect. My goal was to finish.

Mike met me before the third obstacle with a glass of water. We took a moment to catch our breath, and then it was time for me to watch him hop on the bike and get back on the trail while I tried my luck on the balance beam. I got up onto the damn thing and just did not feel steady. Remember, my feet at this point were still covered in slimy mud! So I looked at the volunteers and hunky EMTs at the end and asked what would happen if I didn’t complete the obstacle. They waved me forward … so kind! And I was off running again.

Running? Stumbling, panting, praying and running. And walking. And wishing I’d trained just a wee bit harder. But I kept moving forward. Amazing people encouraged me as they passed. “You’re doin’ great!” they’d say, or “You can so do this!” My favorite though was when I was tackling this wooded, hilly area (and secretly thanking God that Mike was on the bike now and not me) and making my way gingerly down a super-steep slope. I was going pretty slowly now, just making sure I didn’t fall, when a woman came up behind me and said, “You’ve got this. Let’s jog down together.” It really filled my soul with confidence. It was a great feeling, knowing that so many truly gifted athletes just wanted everyone to finish.

Fourth obstacle? An inflatable wall with a slide down the other side. We had to climb up what was about a big damn puffy wall via a cargo net type thing. I stared at it, wondering if I could do it. And then I stopped wondering. It wasn’t the time to think about it; it was go time.

I stepped up … and realized that the first rope “rung” on the cargo net was higher than my waist. I had to pull myself up before I could get a foothold, and I did it! Up up up I went, until I reached the top. And let me tell you, the breeze I made on my way down was incredible. From here, I knew I’d make it.

I found the bike and hopped on to finish the last mile, which was mostly – blissfully – paved. Until the end. When I had to dismount and carry the bike while I walked through a long, long, long mud pit. And I did that, too, keeping the bike as clean as possible. Others were just dragging the bike through the mud, but it wasn’t my bike; that wouldn’t have been cool.

Shortly after that, it was time to drop off the bike and find Mike (hey, that rhymes!) to complete the final obstacle – the mud pit – together. We met up, and took a few minutes while I caught my breath. It would have been sad to pass out in the mud pit! And then, sploosh – it was time to get dirty. We laughed the entire way through, even when I accidentally stuck my face further into the mud than I intended. BLARGH!

When we came out at the other side, we crossed the finish line and each received a much-needed energy drink. Sheesh, what a way to spend a Sunday morning! Emily was there to meet us and take the “after” photos, and both she and Mike were incredibly supportive of me. Mike was a great sport through the whole morning, never minding that I wasn’t the fastest partner on the course. I felt tired and lucky.

Finally, it was time to find the beer garden and relax while the fine people at Goose Island provided our complimentary (really, they told me how nice I looked!) beer. Cold and delicious … at 10:15 a.m. But when you’ve been up since 4, one beer isn’t that far out of the realm of normal.

As we got ready to part ways, that overwhelming feeling of gratitude washed over me. I did it. With the help and support of amazing friends, I did something I wasn’t quite sure I was capable of. There’s nothing quite like trying something completely outside your comfort zone and realizing you’re capable of it.

And we’re already planning to do it all again next year.

See the album on Facebook for additional photos.

Ten on Tuesday July 27

2010-07-27T12:54:00.003-05:00

It's 84 degrees out and I just came in from my afternoon walk. I am slimy.
Mixed greens, grilled chicken, tomatoes, avocado, mushrooms, honey roasted pecans and feta, with a little Green Goddess dressing ... lunch, to die for.
This week began the busiest two weeks in the life of Maggie in recent memory. Monday night, physical therapy; Tuesday night at the gym (can't miss that); Wednesday night, rehearsal; Thursday night, physical therapy and rehearsal for the other show; Friday night, laundry; Saturday I hope to give myself a day of rest, because Sunday is the Muddy Buddy relay! Yes, I will be running, biking and crawling through mud. I should probably have my head examined, but it's one of those things I want to be able to say I did. After the mud, there's more rehearsal, and then we start a new week on repeat, with shows on the weekend instead of mud. I will relax again on August 9.
I am so excited to rehearse for the Libertyville show tomorrow night. I'll be working with Dustin Helvie, one of the most awesome musicians from my theatrical past, and Polly Ludena, a former theater nemesis and current friend. Should be a lot of fun!
I finally got to turn the A/C off for about 36 hours. It had been running from July 4 until last Sunday, July 25, at around 9 a.m. Not complaining - you know I do my best not to complain in the summer, because winter almost kills me every year - just sayin' ... it's fixin' to be a long, hot summer.
My first physical therapy appointment was last night. It is going to be hard, but worth it. And it will feel less difficult because my physical therapist is a very, very pretty boy. ;) He also worked with my dad after one of his knee surgeries, and my brother when he was having shoulder issues. Seems very capable and knowledgeable. The funniest part of the appointment was when we were talking about my activity level. I told him that I walk most days at the office, and that I have a pretty set gym schedule. "You do a lot," he said. "You would, too, if you had as much weight to lose as I do." He asked if I'd lost weight, and I said yes, and as long as the number kept trending downward I was okay with that. Then he asked if I watched what I ate, and I told him not really - I try to eat well, but I don't really count calories or track anything (although I know I should.) And he says - "You know, you'd lose it a lot faster if you'd be more careful with your food." Yeah, I know. And thanks for sounding like a combination of my sister Jenn and my dad.
Andre Dawson ... my favorite Cub, ever. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame on Sunday. He is a complete gentleman, and one of the most talented to ever play the game. As much of a fan as I am, I only wanted the signature of one player, ever, and that's Andre Dawson. I got it, several years ago at a Home Depot. When I handed him the ball I'd brought, and asked for his signature, he smiled, turned the ball to find the sweet spot, and signed his name. I told him that day, "You know, one day I'd like to go to Cooperstown, but I won't go until you're part of the Hall." He looked up at me and smiled. Now, I can plan that trip.
A dear friend of mine lost his brother this week. A 40-year-old man, dead in an instant from an aneurysm. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. And of course this causes me to think of my sisters, with whom I don't always agree. It causes me to wonder how I would react if one of them were taken before we are all old and gray. I'm not ready to lose them, or any of the people I hold dear. So if you have it in your heart, take a moment and make sure the people you love know how much they mean to you. You just never know when you might lose that opportunity.
I wake up almost every morning looking forward to going back to bed. Seriously, I do love sleeping. I could win a gold medal in sleep.
I hate meetings. The end.

Ten on Wednesday, July 21

2010-07-21T15:05:00.003-05:00

It's sort of like Tuesday to me, because I took Monday off. I treated my Godson, Ross, to an "Aunt Maggie Day". We went miniature golfing (36 holes in 90-degree temps; crazy!), had lunch at Steak & Shake, and then saw The Karate Kid. It was a great day. I got to spend it with a truly awesome young man, and feel a little like a kid again, myself. (The movie, by the way, was thoroughly enjoyable. I kinda want to take kung fu now.)
Last night at the gym, a woman I know but don't see often stopped me. "You're wearing pink," she said. Why yes, yes I was. "It looks different. You look different. Your body; it's changing." I think she meant it in a nice way. "I only see you every few weeks, see," she continued. "I notice." Then today at the office, someone said, "You walk almost every day, don't you?" And yes, I do - even when it's sweltering. "You're losing weight." Well, not sure if the scale agrees, but here's hoping!
Tomorrow morning - that's Thursday, July 22 - at 8:30, I will see the doctor and learn the results of my MRI. I'm really hoping it's nothing major, and we can clear it up simply and as painlessly as possible. To be honest, I don't know if I'm up for surgery right now. Guess I'll have to see what the word is ... and try not to panic in the meanwhile.
I had Chuckles today for a snack. Fat free and delicious!
I have every song on my iPod on shuffle. You wouldn't believe how much Christmas music comes up in an eight-hour workday!
The family got together for July birthday dinner (that would be both Pat and Jenn) on Sunday. It was great to see my sisters, brother and of course, Dad. It was a delightful evening of good food, many laughs, and only a few times when I just had to let shit go. If only the eight of us hadn't been squished onto a table more suited for six, it probably would have been perfect.
I am as overscheduled as the child of a yuppy couple these days. It's not forever, though, so I'm pretty sure I'll pull through.
I would like a new pair of shoes. I'm going to pay my student loan instead.
Doing things because we always do them just isn't a good enough reason for me.
Every now and then, I go through my Facebook friends and weed people out. People who are always trying to sell me something, people who are mean, people who provide nothing but a constant barrage of ignorance ... gone. If I still show up on your News Feed, it's not you. ;)

Wee victory

2010-07-18T14:40:00.005-05:00

Yesterday, my friend Krista got married.

Weddings are important events, and I believe when one is invited to one, it is an honor and a privilege. But in the midst of my monumental pity-pot breakdown yesterday afternoon, I almost lost sight of that fact. I almost gave in to the panic in my heart and stayed home.

See, sometimes I look in the mirror and shudder. I have never been a fan of my reflection. And yesterday, I wanted to feel pretty. I didn't. I had that shell-shocked paralysis that almost kept me home, instead. I sat on my bed and began to text the bride, explaining that I was unable to make it because I just didn't feel up to it.

I didn't feel up to it? As I keyed the words into my phone and read them back, I was shocked at myself. Half of life, after all, is in the showing up. It's about being there for the moments that matter - the big ones, like weddings, and the little ones, too. I want to be someone who shows up.
So I put on my best denim, having been assured that anything we were comfortable would be acceptable for this most eclectic gathering, and I took of for the train.

Along my journey, two friends called out of the blue - almost as if the universe wanted to reassure me that I was loved, no matter how I might feel about myself in that moment.

I arrived at the art gallery (yes, I have friends who get married in art galleries. How cool is THAT?) and wandered around, meeting the groom and wishing the gorgeous bride the best and eventually meeting up with some friends. And ya know what? They didn't seem to notice that I wasn't having a beautiful day. They only seemed to care that I was there, and that we were together to celebrate this day.

It was a hard day, one that found me almost constantly on the brink of tears, but that was okay. Everyone cries at weddings, right? And in the end, there was so much joy. I hope to remember last night as a moment when I wanted desperately to hide in a corner, and I chose awesome instead, and found myself letting go of all the things that would have kept me home as the evening progressed. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

My stunningly beautiful and talented co-workers - Cinthya, me, Bonnie, Bev, Kyra and Brienne.

Ten on Tuesday, July 13

2010-07-13T10:33:00.001-05:00

I don't take kindly to being treated poorly. By anyone. Please don't reprimand me in a crowded office by telling me I "screwed everything up", especially when A) I didn't and B) I followed your directions. Please don't shout into the phone to tell me I'm getting old. Please ... just don't. When you're nasty to me a few times, I can let it go, but when it seems to just be the way you do things, I find it very hard to respect or like you.
Why is a concoction made up of Mandarin oranges, pineapple, marshmallows, coconut and sour cream referred to as "Hawaiian salad"? Seriously ... there is nothing remotely salad-like about this dish. Although I will take seconds, please.
Ever wanted to hear me sing? Well, you'll get your chance in August. On August 7, I'm part of Liberty Town Productions' Summer Showcase. Shows at 6 and 8:30 p.m., and more info is available here. The following day, I'll be participating in the Fox Valley Park District's "Summer Stage Turns 40" Concert of Memories. I was once very active in Summer Stage, and it's a blast rehearsing with old friends. More info on this show can be found here. Tickets can be reserved by emailing summerstage40@yahoo.com. Thank you for allowing me this shameless plug. We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog.
Rehearsal for the Summer Stage show last Sunday was like a trip back in time. Really - afterward, I invited myself to Patrick's mom's house for dinner; it was that much like 1987. Some things just don't get old. We ate Italian sausage and seafood salad, we swam in the rain, and we sat on the porch and talked. I'm a lucky girl.
So, I'm pretty busy these days. Lots of running around from rehearsal to the gym to work to doctor's appointments. Yeah, the knee is still not solved. On Thursday I go for an MRI, and after we know what's wrong, we'll decide what to do. I'm hoping it's not surgery; if some physical therapy can set me right again, I will be a happy woman (who no longer walks like she's 90.)
I already ate my lunch, but I'm hungry. There is no justice in the world.
I went to the Chicago Botanic Garden on Sunday. It's not in Chicago. It is, however, beautiful. Patrick, Ed, Javier and I met at Max's Deli for breakfast, and then we headed over to the Garden. So pretty. There were lots of little benches and areas to just relax. I could have spent the entire weekend there. In fact, I sort of wish I were still there.
Sometimes I get the urge to write nasty letters to the people who have hurt me. I usually talk myself out of it, though, because I realize ... they don't care. I have to learn to let stuff go, to stop feeling hurt over things that are so long in the past. It's tough, sometimes.
I saw one of my favorite families perform in "Seussical" last Saturday night. The Ludenas - Polly, Marc, Ross, Jack and Rosalie - were adorable. As a real fan of Dr. Seuss, I truly enjoyed the show. Especially seeing Ro as the baby elephant bird!
My finances will probably always be hard for me to manage. It takes real effort for me to manage my money, but I'm getting there. In fact, in what I consider a monumental event, I received the statement from my 401K yesterday. There is money in it. Not a lot - I've only been active since February - but there's money. More than I have had saved in a long, long time. It feels good.

10 on Wednesday, July 7

2010-07-07T09:54:00.003-05:00

10 Things I Loved About My July 4th Weekend

House salad with fig balsamic vinaigrette at Ryan Braun's Tavern and Grill. And the chicken Marsala. And the gelatto trio. Delicious!
Friday night karaoke with Dale. It was a hoot to walk in the door and see Candy's face, because she didn't know I would be there. Of course, she had me sing her song, which went over brilliantly. We sang, we danced, we had a few drinks and a lot of water (man, the humidity!) and we really enjoyed listening to each other sing. It was a new twist on old times.
My haircut. It's not short by any means, but it is a lot shorter. I love it. It's bouncy and sassy (right, Rae?) and it doesn't end up in a complete mess after driving around with the top down.
Laying at the pool all day long. Bliss with SPF 30, a good book and even better company. Amber and I lounged throughout the day and chatted with her neighbors. Most of the people in her complex are a little older, and they are just charming, wonderful people. We talked about everything from the goose problem in Delavan to Lady Gaga. What a hoot!
Doing nothing for an entire evening. We thought about heading out to hear a band, or see a movie, but in the end I fell asleep on the chaise lounge in the living room and finally crawled to bed around 10:30. Yep, that's me - still a party animal!
Coffee and a walk. On Sunday, July 4, we slept in and then got dressed to wander around town. We stopped at Caribou for a delicious, frosty coffee treat and then wandered to the lakefront. So beautiful. It was a windy day and the air smelled amazing. There were so many people along the lake enjoying this amazing day. We found a little spot in the shad to sit and people watch for awhile ... bliss.
Big salads for lunch. Romaine, chicken breast, cranberries, nuts, feta and Green Goddess dressing. Does it get any better than that? Nope. Not as far as I'm concerned.
Wandering through gardens. We visited the North Wind Perennial Farm, which is part nursery and part gorgeous gardens. So many little nooks and crannies, and a big barn full of stuff my mother would have loved. I'm still thinking about the wind chime made of spoons. We also stopped at a mushroom farm, where they had the most beautiful produce ever. Makes me hungry just thinking about it! And that mango/Key lime salsa ... I would like some now, please.
Fireworks and water. Amber's friend David (who is also Patrick's friend, of course, and is now my friend, too) invited us out on his boat to watch the fireworks. He's on Lake Como, and from the middle of the lake, we could see fireworks from Fontana, Lake Como and the Grand Geneva. Incredible! Even though it was a little misty out on the water, it was a wonderful experience. I felt like I was among old friends, and sharing fireworks like that ... well, to me, it matters. Fireworks are meant to be shared with people you love.
Coming home. I elected to drive home after the fireworks rather than stay until Monday. While I missed breakfast with Laura, I was happy to be home. Honestly, I think that's the best part of most trips - coming home and realizing that this is where I belong.

Good as new?

2010-07-02T12:40:00.002-05:00

I don't know exactly when it happened.

Was it a by-product of being married? The annual addition of a birthday? The moment I realized that my best days were probably behind me?

I don't know what led me to this place. I do know that, somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing myself as fixable. I decided that the aches and pains, the ways in which my body simply didn't behave, were just part of getting older. So my knee hurts. So the little sucker is prone to injury. What do you expect, at almost 44 years of age?

Turns out, I can expect more.

See, I've been really active over the last month or so. Keeping up the gym regimen while participating in relays, serving beers and helping friends move. All the while babying my knee, trying to keep from hurting it, and yet causing some very real pain. It wasn't getting any better, so I went to the doctor.

Who assures me that, with physical therapy, I can be good as new.

Really? After I'd given up and pretty much resigned myself to growing old next week, I learn that it doesn't have to be this way? Evidently. And that's an important revelation: We're never really done. We can never give up. Good enough can never be good enough.

So I have my first appointment next Wednesday at 4 pm. It will probably make me want to cry like a girl. Which is fortunate, because I am. But I'm going to do it, and I'm going to be good as new.

Ten on Tuesday, June 29

2010-06-29T09:10:00.002-05:00

I don't like moving. I really don't like moving in 92 degrees and high humidity when there are stairs involved. That said ... it was totally worth it to install Millie, Eric and Danny in their new old home. Having my friends a little bit closer makes it completely worth it.
Spontanaeity and I still get along. Last Friday when Kathleen called looking for a dinnertime diversion, I initially thought "No; it's a big weekend with lots of activity and I really need to do my laundry." But I changed my mind, because life is short, food is good, and Kathleen is awesome. She met me at P.F. Chang's and we sat on the patio. It was a delightful, wonderful evening. And when I got home, I still had plenty of time do finish my chores.
Telling people that you value their opinions is not the same as actually valuing those opinions. That doesn't mean I expect anyone to substitute my judgement for his or her own. It does, however, require one not to assume I (or anyone else, for that matter) am wrong just because we share a different set of circumstances.
The car has been officially christened El Guapo. My best friend in the entire universe, the brother I didn't meet until I was 29, is in town on business, and the entire family (minus Rae and Kaylee) got together for dinner. Mike Rice has to pilot my vehicles and name them. He's been doing it since college, and it's the right thing to do.
Speaking of Rice family dinner ... it was chicken and dumplings, the way Susan (Mom) Rice used to make them. I have a lot of memories of that particular meal. Sometimes around that big table in the Jacksonville kitchen, sometimes huddled around a plastic bag full of dumplings and eating them cold the next morning. Always delicious. Becky and Cindy made dinner and the most perfect peach custard pie I've ever had. It was a magical meal. And like most magical meals, it wasn't the food, but the people, that made it special. This was the first time in two years that I've been in the same room with all the Rice kids, as James has been teaching in India. It was great to see him - and all my adoptive siblings - if only for one evening.
Okay, so this just hit me. We're eating the peach pie, and I ask for the recipe, and little brother Chunk says, "I'll send it to you right now." And he did. From his phone. Which means my little brother has the recipe for peach pie on his phone. How cute is that?
I have really effed up my knee. Too much activity over the last few weeks, I guess. It's swollen and cranky. Guess I'll have to take it easy this weekend, huh?
VACATION! It's just a long weekend, but it totally counts. Heading up to Lake Geneva on Friday night (pray for nice weather; I'd really love to go with the top down) and staying through Monday morning. In my near future, there will be karaoke, breakfast, pool, lake, sun, conversations and laughter. Sounds like vacation to me.
This morning I woke up to a little kitty-vomit minefield. Not sure what the little bastard got into, but it was nasty. And it did not make for a good morning.
If you eat a lot of black licorice, jelly beans or gum drops, you will poop brilliant green. No, really.

10 on Tuesday, June 22

2010-06-22T16:01:00.000-05:00

I bought sunglasses. I had to do it on my own, because while I’ll see Tucson Mike in less than a week, we will not have time to shop. This puts a lot of pressure on me, but I think I did okay. Found two pairs that I really like, and they were buy one/get one half off. What good a pair of half-off sunglasses does me, I’ll never know. At least if they’re half off, they’re also half on.
Co-worker Mike is bringing me his bike. And that was an unfortunate rhyme. Anyway, I’ll be using it to train for the Muddy Buddy race on August 1. You should come cheer us on!
I have the ingredients to make panzanella – tomato and bread salad. Can I just say, yum?
Last Friday, we had some of the most freakish weather ever. The sky turned dark and scary, the wind was crazy and we lost power at the office. So what did we do? Went to the nearest bar for a few beers. Soon, it was safe to drive home and all was well … except I had no power there, either. It didn’t come on until 6:19 a.m. Good thing I have friends who are willing to entertain me in my hour of need!
I am not usually excited to perform manual labor. However, this weekend I will be pleased as punch to help move my friends Eric and Millie, and their son Danny, to Aurora. They currently live in DeKalb, which is too far away. Aurora will be much more manageable, for me, anyway. It will be worth the sweat and the icky to have them not living in Iowa.
At this time next week, Conference will be happening. Many of our management will be in Milwaukee, and it will be quiet, like the day after Thanksgiving. I’m looking forward to getting my cubicle clean and leaving on time.
I’m giving myself a little vacation. Fourth of July weekend will find me in Wisconsin, enjoying the water and the company of good friends. I know it’s not most people’s idea of a great vacation adventure, and I know it wasn’t my first choice of where I’d be heading … but it will certainly allow me to rest, relax and enjoy a little time away from the normal day-to-day.
I get to see Tucson Mike in just a few days! Well, the rest of the family, too … but it all started with Mike, and I can’t wait to see him. And eat chicken and dumplings. And hang out with the family. Now, of course, I have to admit … I wish the girls were coming, too.
I spent part of the day Sunday at my dad’s, because it was Father’s Day. I got presents. I love Father’s Day!
Co-worker Lisa and I still walk every day at lunch, as long as it isn’t raining. Today, it was hotter than hot outside. As my friend Marc said, it was “stupid hot”. And I figured, what the hell … at least it’s a dry stupid hot.

Ten on Tuesday, June 15

2010-06-15T13:21:00.001-05:00

I am trying my damndest to prep for the Muddy Buddy race on August 1. Co-worker Mike and I will run/bike/complete obstacles/crawl through mud on a seven-mile course on a farm in Gilberts, IL. I just hope I don’t make a jackass out of myself. Or die. Or come in last.
I really miss having a patio or balcony. I love my little home, but within the next couple of years, I’d really like to upgrade to a place that gives me outside space.
Can I say once again how incredibly proud I am of Choose Awesome? Between our sponsorship and donations to our team of (two) walkers in the Relay for Life, the American Cancer Society received more than $560. It was a great feeling to walk for a cause that really matters – to us personally, and to our organization. For our very first venture, it feels pretty incredible. Or should I say awesome?
My dad, sister and nephew are still in Hawaii. Some day, I hope to go there. The pictures they’ve posted so far (yes, they access Facebook from the Big Island) are gorgeous.
While I miss my Blackberry (which I never should’ve gotten because I’m a Mac person and that’s just wrong) I kind of enjoy having just a regular ordinary doesn’t-do-anything phone. There’s a feeling of being unhooked that comes from not being reachable 24/7. I like that. I will remember that when I go iPhone, and not feel so attached.
My container garden is doing very well! I’m going to have to transplant some of the herbs out to give Tom (that’s the tomato) a chance to grow. I am so excited to have fresh tomatoes!
I’m still tired from being up all night Friday at the Relay. I am not as young as I once was.
I really dislike accepting copy changes from people who aren’t writers. Conversely, I really like having a job. At times, these feelings run at cross purposes with one another.
This Sunday is Father’s Day. As much as Mother’s Day is tough for me, being half orphaned and all, I feel for my friends who have lost their fathers. I talk to my dad almost every day, and I am always grateful for being able to do that – in part because I have a reminder, in the form of my friends, that life is short, and Dad won’t be with me forever. Your loss has given me important perspective, and I am grateful for that. You will be in my thoughts on Sunday.
I really (really) try to refrain from being passive-aggressive and snarky. This may come as a huge surprise, because it probably doesn’t seem that way. Just think: what if I didn’t try? My world would be nothing but snark. I’ll pause while you feel grateful.

I like ...

2010-06-14T14:33:00.002-05:00

camping
pineapple
believing one person can make a difference
butterfly kisses
travel
different drummers, and moving to their beat
playing catch with whatever’s handy
the ocean
dark chocolate
sarongs
soap
my lawn, which is really a beautiful park
going barefoot
Coppertone
cold chocolate cake and a glass of milk
wishing on a star
hope
the fragrance library of Demeter
with apologies to Kevin Costner, long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days
my wrists
being forgiven
forgiving
Snake River Lager
the feel of a dog’s nose in the palm you my hand
honesty (it’s such a lonely word)
feeling good in my own skin
crab rangoon
Loralei Gilmore
El Guapo
old letters
antique cake stands
grande extra shot nonfat mocha easy whip
romantic comedies
the next chapter
Christmas Eve
Spanish
Trixie Belden
garlic
the music of the 70’s
my job
easy silence
Levi's button-fly 501s
two brothers named Mike
sterling
knitting as meditation
drive-in movies
choosing a path
crying when I need to cry
experiences that encompass all five senses
Lush
potato salad
falling asleep

10 on Wednesday, June 9

2010-06-09T17:29:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I'm overwhelmed with how much I love my actual brother Mike. I was over at Dad's over the weekend, and we decided to give him (Mike, not Dad) a shower. It's nice to be able to help Mike feel secure in a wobbly shower wheelchair made of plastic, but I was able to even make him laugh a little bit. We got him all nice and clean and smelling awesome. I'd wash his toes any day.
My dad, my sister Kathie and nephew Alex leave tomorrow morning for Hawaii. I hope they have a great time, especially my dad. At 81 years old, I love that he wants to travel. I especially love that he's finally taking that helicopter tour. Bon voyage, my dear ones.
Work is called work because it's work. Otherwise, they'd call it recess and you wouldn't get paid. But damn ... lately it's been more work than usual. Not complaining - love my job, love my co-workers, love having a job. But it's a stressful time of year. Bring on July.
Our tiny little not-for-profit, Choose Awesome, is sponsoring the Relay for Life at Elgin Community College this Friday and Saturday. I'm incredibly proud. I'm also walking on the Choose Awesome team. Truly looking forward to it.
Cats shed. A lot.
Sometimes going to the gym becomes a totally spiritual experience. Last night was one of those times. Everything just sort of fell into place, the energy was right and we had a magical hour of dancing. I'm so lucky.
Tomorrow (in Chicagoland, anyway) Jimmy John's subs #1-6 are only $1. I'm going with my co-workers. Nothing beats a $1 sammich. Well, several things do, but none that I can get on my lunch hour for a buck.
Yankee Candle has this smell called "Sun and Sand" that smells just like I remember my uncle Don's cabin smelling. The perfect combination of Coppertone and fresh air. You should get yourself one.
I am craving s'mores.
I have really been missing the water lately. It's been a long time since I've spent time lakeside, so I think in a few weeks I'll head North to Lake Geneva. I may not leave the shore for a few days.

10 on Tuesday, June 1

2010-06-01T11:29:00.002-05:00

I love June. Summer makes me happy.
What a fantastic weekend! I was able to spend a lot of time either lounging poolside or driving with the top down. I keep sunscreen in my car out of necessity; I think that's the coolest thing in the world.
I'm slowly obtaining my summer glow. I know technically it's not healthy to tan, but I use as strong an SPF as I can (30) without breaking out in hella-hives, and I try not to relax out there for too long. I'm not going to spend the summer hiding in the shade.
Speaking of lounging in the sun, I came to an important realization on Sunday. I was at Polly's mom's pool, and it was hot and sunny. I had my swimsuit, so I decided to hop into it and cool off in the pool. Polly's cousin Jennifer was there, looking like her beautiful self, and by comparison I'm sure I looked like a sad whale. But as I told Polly, I'm over worrying about how I look. The truth is, I'm overweight. It's not like all of a sudden people will see me in a swimsuit and realize this! So why not take a dip with the kiddoes, relax on a lounge chair, and enjoy every gorgeous moment of summer? Why not, indeed.
I had completely forgotten that in Season Three of Moonlighting, the character of Sam is played by Mark Harmon. A very young Mark Harmon. The scene when David knocks on Maddie's door, intent on telling her he loves her, and Sam answers ... it's still heartbreaking after all these years.
Sometimes, no matter how hard ya try, ya screw up. The trick is to move on with some semblance of grace and dignity.
I really want more of those shishkabobs Polly made on Sunday.
The bad news: my scrubby soap thing melted in my gym bag. The good news: it smelled really good, and now everything in my gym bag smells like it. Not a bad trade.
It's vacation season and I'm not going anywhere. I wanted to, but airfare is just insane right now. So I'm going to let the money sit in my account and make more of itself for the time being. Besides, I need a new mattress and a new computer and lots of other things more than I need a vacation. I think.
Work is crazy in June. The people I work with are crazy in June, too. I fit right in.

Ten - May 26, 2010

2010-05-26T19:10:00.003-05:00

I relented and put my little window air conditioner in the ... well, doy ... window. The temp climbed into the upper 80s this week, and from my swanky penthouse, it gets pretty steamy. Even with the a/c a'runnin', I can't get it cooler than 75 degrees. But there's a break coming, so it'll be off before we know it. And either way, I'm not complaining. I complain all winter long; I don't bitch in the summer.
Green tea mixed with lemonade is completely delicious. Occasionally, I add a splash of lime-infused rum, which just ups the anty a little bit. Tasty.
My nose is completely stuffed. I miss breathing. Actually, it's not so bad, except when I'm trying to sleep. I love sleeping, and I hate breathing through my mouth. Icky! Wah.
I spent the day last Sunday with the Ludena family - Polly, my old theater friend, her husband Marc, and their three kids - Ross (my Godson), Jack and Ro. Such sweet awesome people; love them! And the boys wanted nothing more than to ride in the back of Aunt Maggie's Jeep. Life is good. Got to see Ross and Jack in their program at church, have lunch with the family, and then see Ross and Jack in their piano recital. Their teacher was my Junior High choir director. (Cue the creepy animatronic puppets; it is a small world!) Had a blast, love the kids, and I really love the way old friends can come back to each other no matter how much time has passed.
Memorial Day weekend. Well, hello, summer ... you look good.
Boo-yah! At what age am I no longer allowed to say it? It's just so much fun!
On the financial front, may I have a drumroll please? I am no longer in default on my student loan. Within a few months, something good will actually be reported to the credit reporting agencies on my behalf. It's been awhile ... boo-yah.
There are storms in the forecast tonight. Yummy.
Today is my mom's birthday. She would have been 79. She was a witty, wonderful, wacky woman. I miss her every day ... even more during baseball season.
I don't believe ignorance is bliss. Ignorance is the one trait that really makes me crazy, because it's a choice. A little research makes all the difference between ignorant and not-so.

Habits - the good and the bad

2010-05-19T14:04:00.003-05:00

I walked at lunch today. The sky is a clear and perfect shade of cerulean. The breeze is warm. The trees are brilliantly green and the two-mile trail is almost free of water after the flooding last week.

I go every day, at around noon, as long as there isn't a torrential downpour. It feels good. It's a welcome break from sitting at my desk. I smile almost the entire way. Today, I walked by myself because my walking buds were either busy or late, so I had time to myself to think. And I thought to myself, "This walking thing is a pretty good habit."

It's not something I've done on purpose. It started out as just a way to break up the day. It wasn't my intention to create a habit, but if you do something often enough, regularly enough, it just sort of happens.

As I rounded the first curve, around the pond at the corner of Devon and Mittel, I came to the harsh realization that that is simply the way life works. Do something often enough, regularly enough, and you have yourself a habit.

Which probably explains the low self-confidence I've battled my entire life, or why the bad stuff is easier to believe, even if I'm the only one saying it. It's a habit. I've habitually let myself believe the worst, and I've kept repeating to myself over and over.

You're not good enough. You're too heavy. You're not pretty. Your head is too big. (Okay, that one is true.) You don't deserve it. Everyone else is better, smarter, prettier and/or more talented than you.

I've heard the whispers. Most of them are mine; I am a master of self-doubt. But today, I heard other voices. You walk fast. You are powerful. You could totally knock the crap out of that creepy old runner guy. I'm going to start listening to them; that's a habit I'd like to cultivate.