Mirror on the Mind

I couldn't be a perfectionist because I'm so far from being perfect. It would just be too hard to live in constant disappointment to myself.

Mirror of Appearances, Part II

At a party last weekend, a friend was telling a story about how she went out with her coworker who happens to have enormous hooters.

"It was a whole different experience," she said, "because all the guys would check out her [hooters] before anything else, while I'm used to the all-over glance-over from face to feet. It made me wonder," she continued, "what it would be like to have a different body type or shape."

"That's not so weird, Miz M," you might be saying to yourself. "There's been whole mess of movies with that subject. Ever heard of "Big" or "Vice Versa" or "Freaky Friday"? What about those reality shows like "Wife Swap"? Everyone wonders what it might be like to be in someone else's shoes."

But I will tell you that this woman comes in pretty nice natural packaging. In my mind, she was really asking, "what would it be like to be ugly or fat?" I feel like I've heard other attractive women muse about this type of thing. Because I don't think anyone that is unattractive would say that type of thing aloud to their friends. After all, there is pride involved! And, by the time one is in their mid to late 20s, I would think that they would have developed other charms. Like say, a sense of humor, good story telling skills, intelligence, or charisma to bridge the gap of not being thin and attractive or having enormous hooters. It seems to me that people that are super attractive get stuck on how their appearance affects their lives much more than other people. But maybe I'm just naive...

Mirror of Appearances, Part I

I biked to work today. It takes about an hour, and I bike along the lake. And it brings me pure joy.

For the first week, it was just about getting in shape and accomplishing the task. Now that I'm a little more used to the exercise, it frees up my mind to think about more important things. However, I also work up a ferocious sweat. Especially in this Chicago humidity.

Since the A/C has been "broken" (read: non-existent) in my old-ass office building, I had a major decision to make this morning. Do I walk over to the coffee shop and get my coffee in my sweaty biking clothes? Or, do I change first, but risk sweating in my office clothes since it will be hot as hell in the building and I will have had no chance to cool down. I opted for option 1.

"It's still early!" I thought, "no one in the coffee shop will care if I'm in my biking clothes. It's an independent coffee shop!"

Well, I was wrong about that as this coffee shop has an air of prestige (read: pretention) thicker than the 80% humidity. I have never seen more poo-poo faces as I did when I got my coffee today. Get over it, poo-poo face!!!

Beautiful Signs of Summer

I walked down to the river yesterday by River Park, after the late afternoon rain had subsided. I wanted to see how high the water had risen after the rain. When I was there, I saw two black-crowned night herons, some seagulls and swallows, and a juvenile green heron skipping around the rocks looking for something good to eat. I also saw many big brown bass, swimming over each other and over the submerged concrete edges of the North Branch dam, flipping their tails and some even trying to flip themselves over the barricade. It gave me a feeling of freshness and excitement to get back out on the river this year.

Summertime rant: It's called a goddam leash.

Hi.
This Memorial Day weekend has been fabulous. Great summery weather. Great food at BBQs around the city. Bike riding. Swimming. Awesome.

I have one small complaint, though, and it has to do with you people who have dogs. It's called a goddam leash, people. Yeah, your dog is cute. Sure, your dog is friendly. You may even think your dog is well-behaved enough to trot along the beach or lake path without a leash. Well, it's not.

I like dogs as much as the next person. Really. But it is just inconsiderate to let your dog run around in a public park running up to people, shaking off water, sniffing around. It makes me nervous. And it's rude. If it's on a leash, I know that you have control of the goddam beast and I and all the members of the public who don't know your dog will be much happier.

Thanks.

Dating Makes You Feel "Human"

Rather uncharacteristically, I've been going on a lot of dates over the past 4 months. Dating can be really fun (the kissing, the new conversations, the surprises) and frustrating (is he going to call?, is he going to kiss me?, the surprises), but it can also be full of awkward-a-mundo situations.

I've been hesitant to blog about some of these experiences because I've made the mistake of telling some of my dates about my blog, and I haven't wanted to bring up embarrassing moments at an inopportune time that could cause a preemptive end in the dating timeline. However, some time has elapsed since some of these dates, so here are some awkward-a-mundo highlights:

1. I was sitting on the beach with a date. We were having a serious conversation - too serious - about past relationships or something like that. Suddenly, a large seagull started making a racket as he was doing it with another seagull, right there on the beach. It created a special layer of date mood awkward.

2. I went on a bike riding date with a guy. Five minutes into the ride, he starts talking about how he ran out of his special cyclist shammy (read: testicle) cream, so he was very concerned about chaffing on the bike ride. In all honesty, he did this to be funny, and as an "icebreaker", but still, um, embarrassing!!!

There are a few other stories that are a little more involved, so maybe I'll blog about them some other time. But needless to say, dating can bring me up to the height of excitement and anticipation, and down the the depths of awkward, but always reminds me of the laughableness of being human.

Neighbor Breakthrough + Increased Peace of the Street!

I had a good neighbor breakthrough with my downstairs neighbors yesterday. As I've posted previously on my blog, we've had some problems in the past.

It turns out that we just needed an opportunity to be united for a cause against something else instead of each other. It turns out that the something else was a big-ass pile of garbage in the alleyway from the 5 a.m. restaurant that sits next door to us.

After a week or so of the garbage piling up at this place, critters galore - birds, mice, rats, - were starting to pick at the 10+ garbage bags sitting in the alley. While I enjoy seeing urban wildlife like blue herons and foxes, I don't want the alley near me to be the breeding and feeding grounds of the urban zoo.

So yesterday, I gave my Alderman a buzz and the garbage was gone by the end of the day. Yessss! It turns out my neighbor had called them too. She thought she was crazy-complaining and being ridiculous about it. She was assured that I had called them too and therefore felt newfound feelings of friendliness towards me. You see, her and her partner just moved from Madison, where it is uncouth to call the cops on a party, or call the Alderman about a trash problem. Well, here's your first (?) lesson to assuage your liberal guilt. Welcome to the big city where every bitch has to work together to increase the peace of the street!

Cadillac Cigar Man

I was driving around on the south side on Saturday morning. I pulled up at a light at 67th and Halsted, next to a Cadillac that had been swerving around like crazy. I had my windows down, and was blasting a band called "Stars" (sort of pop indie rock) on my car radio.

The Cadillac man got my attention. When I looked over, he was dressed in black, with a red stocking cap, and smoking a big ole cigar. Just as cool as a cucumber, he says,

"I tried to call you last night. Where were you?"

Seeing the possibility of an interesting exchange I said with a smile, "I was busy with my boyfriend."

"Well," he said, "I was with my girlfriend when I called you."

I shrugged.

"So I guess we were all on three-way," he said. "Turn to 92.3 on the radio."

"92.3?" I said, "What's that?"

"Just turn to it," he said.

So I put on 92.3 and it was a hard rap song, a gangster rap song.

"This song is pretty good," I said.

"I'll make you a CD," he said.

I just laughed.

Finally, the light turned green and I was able to make my left turn.

"It was nice talkin' to ya. Have a good one," I said.

He honked in reply.

May I recommend a hot toddy for that?

I work with a lot of volunteers for my job. In fact, I directly manage and work very closely with over 40 volunteers for 8 or so months of the year. These people range in age from teenagers to retired men and women in their 60s, and each person is pretty different. Overall, I really enjoy the group, and their range of experiences and personalities often offer me entertainment.

Last weekend, the organization I work for had a big event, but my portion of the event (involving some of my volunteers) was cancelled the day before. To make sure that everyone knew that our portion of the event would be cancelled, I phoned each person and sent them an email to this fact. The main event still occurred, and one of the volunteers, "Matthew," came up to me at the event and confronted me about why I didn't tell him our part of the event was cancelled.

"Matthew," I said, "I talked to you yesterday on the phone to tell you it was cancelled. At the time, you were reading the email I sent out to that same effect."

"But I thought the email said that the event wasn't cancelled."

"Matthew," I said, "the title of the email was 'Cancelled - X portion of this event.'"

"It was?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Oh. I've had insomnia this week so I've been taking Ambien. That's the second conversation that I've completely forgotten."

Ooops. Maybe he should have tried the hot toddy method before he went the pharmaceutical route!

Unfortunately, on the same day we talked on the phone he also offered to contribute $750-$1000 to my organization. He's going to have some beef with Ambien if that charge shows up unexpectedly on his credit card bill!

Colossus of Maroussi

I had to take a break from "Cat's Eye." Though it is a faciniating and deeply interesting book, it was disturbing my sleep!

I picked up "The Colossus of Maroussi" at the library yesterday and it is the perfect pick-me-up. Henry Miller writes a very entertaining travelogue-type book, totally romanticizing his travels to Greece, and especially the people that he meets. Though his prose contains a lot of bullshit, he does it in the absolutely most entertaining way that makes this a great read!

Miller was a friend of Lawrence Durrell, who wrote the Alexandria quartet. Durrell's books are fiction, and take place in exotic lands. They are about anglo people living in these lands, and the complexities of their emotional and sexual relations.

Durrell and his wife show up in "Colossus", as background companions, but also in a kind of name-dropping sort of way. But, Miller's writing about people is much more about enjoying their zest for life than Durrell's chaotic relationships. All things being equal, I enjoy reading about the former with more delight!

Going Postal

Much has been written about the volitile nature of postal employees, but what about postal customers? I think they can be just as crazy, if not worse!

Money on the Mirror - Cat's Eye

I'm reading the book Cat's Eye right now, which I'm borrowing from a friend.
(Part of my book project mentioned here and here.)

Anyway, it's a book by Margaret Atwood, and she has a very hypnotic writing style. The book is fascinating, though somewhat heavy in mood, as it is a reflection on middle age and growing up as a girl and not understanding the culture of girls, for lack of a better term.

But there is one section that provided a potentially great image, that should totally be appropriated into some kind of ironic comedy. It's really brilliant -

In the scene, the narrator is trying on some clothes in a fitting room, and she is not too jazzed about it. She writes, "If I ran a store like this I'd paint all the cubicles pink and put some money into the mirrors: whatever else women want to see, it's not themselves; not in their worst light anyway."

Elevator Creeps

At the building where I work downtown, the rent is cheap and there are creeps aplenty.

There are two "creep zones" where one is apt to encounter the building creeps: in the elevator or in the bathroom.

The ladies in my office and I try to avoid creep encounters by going to the bathroom in packs. (There is not a bathroom on every floor.) Yesterday though, I had to go it alone. My ride down the elevator to the bathroom was fine, but I encountered a building creep while waiting for the elevator on the way back to my floor.

"When's the last time you went dancing?" said the creep.

"Uh, not for awhile," I said.

"Why not?" said the creep.

"Um, I've been really busy doing other stuff," I said.

"Oh. Well I was going to go last weekend up on Lincoln, but I was tired and I didn't have anyone to go with," said the creep.

"Oh. Well, bye," I said and got off the elevator.

I've had more than one conversation like this in the office elevator. Not about dancing, but some elevator creep will start a random conversation with a weirdo topic far removed from the acceptable elevator pleasantries. Acceptable elevator talk includes the following declarative statements:

• "It's rainy today."
• "It's Monday."
• "Someone got stuck in the elevator yesterday."
• "Why don't these goddam elevators ever work?"

When someone starts a conversation outside of these norms, my strategy is to pretend like whatever the person says is perfectly normal, while also avoiding stating any personal information. I just pick up the conversation and then exit the elevator as soon as possible, hopefully not creeped out.

Hot Toddies and White Noise - Old Fashioned Sleep Aides

I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping this week. I'll be exhausted, go to bed early, and then wake up at 4 a.m. or 5 a.m. totally restless. I think it has to do with my earlier physical exhaustion and fatigue, but also with the sun rising at an earlier hour, birds chirping, etc., etc., all that good spring stuff.

But I'll also have stressed-out dreams. The kind where I get pissed at my subconscious for wasting my sleeping time. Like dreaming that I'm really angry and anxious that the train is so slow. Don't I spend enough time doing that when I'm awake?

So I decided to buy some whiskey after work, and make a hot toddy before I go to bed. And get a fan to provide some sleep-inducing white noise. Forget the Tylenol PM, the Lunestra, Paxil, or whatever. I'll try these old fashioned methods, hopefully with some success.

Biking High, Then Exhaustion

I went biking yesterday from the north side all the way up to the Botanic Gardens and Highland Park. 31 miles! I love to spend all day outside, and push myself to the physical limit. It's fun! And it was a great ride!

However, I'm getting to an age where I don't bounce back as quickly from this type of thing. After I biked to the point of exhaustion, my friend and I then ate a chicken finger dinner and had a glass of beer. Whoops.

Now, it's Monday and I'm feeling all sick. I threw up this morning and just feel physically exhausted and run down. What was I thinking eating chicken tenders and beer after all that exercise and sunburn? So after a nap, I downed a whole bunch of Gatorade and homemade chicken soup for what it was worth in my recovery. I also slept an additional 4-6 hours today.

So next time I bike 31 miles, I'm going to take it a little more seriously. Drink Gatorade instead of beer. Eat veggies instead of fried chicken. Because, well, exercise shouldn't have to be that hard!

"First Gear, It's Alright..."

Well, I've been totally uninspired of late by the general public. Public, why haven't you been saying crazy things to make me laugh and make me blog?

Luckily, that changed at the gym today.
There was a skinny Asian man with a mustache who was jogging around the track and singing along to his disc-man. Awesome! He was singing out lines like "First gear, it's alright... second gear, hang on tight..." and "eight days a week...". And he was wearing a shirt that said "Big Daddy."

Canoeing on a river

Afternoon by a river