How do you choose what to care about?

I wish Chicago residents would be more interested in what their alderman does on the weekend/what kind of independent meetings he or she holds/whether or not he or she was at a major CPS event than where the next restaurant or coffee shop is opening. 

Not saying I don’t get incredibly excited about a new independent coffee shop or the fact that many of Chicago’s best bars/restaurants are in my neighborhood…but shouldn’t you want to know what kind of efforts your elected officials are taking to get re-elected and which meetings they attend and how they feel about issues like school closings, parking meter deals, and new ward boundaries?

I am normal, right?

I spend some Wednesday mornings drinking coffee and streaming Chicago City Council meetings, Friday nights listening to Chicago police scanners, week days e-mailing and calling  offices of aldermen, and many Tuesday & Thursday nights attending Chicago Alternative Policing Strategy (CAPS) meetings. 

This is normal, right?

Just some observations on life.

Observations I’ve made

Kids really are capable of solving problems by themselves if you let them.

It’s always a good idea to eat ice cream before noon.

Using a desk instead of sitting on the couch to do your work will probably make you more productive (for the first few days at least).

Listening to instrumental music allows for so much creativity.

Right when you wake up is probably the best time to do an ab workout.

It is important to ask for what you want and take action toward the change you wish to see. Sitting idle and stewing doesn’t get you anywhere.

Complaining is dumb and annoying.

Earning my sleep

Summer sleep is such a different kind of sleep than any other season’s…for me at least. In the summer (or long periods of time when it feels like summer) opportunities seem endless, Chicago’s streets become my paths of adventure while my bike and running shoes serve as my vehicles. 

In the summer, when I finally lock my bike up for the night, climb the two flights of stairs to my apartment, take a long drink of ice cold water and melt into bed I know that I’ve filled my day with so much adventure and so many activities that I’ve earned my 7-8 hours of sleep. Most days before I drift off to dream land, I like to recall everything I did that day or weekend. So here is this past weekend’s list because I’m pretty darn proud of it:

Saturday: walk to Foodsmart to get coffee. participate in counter-IFI rally and march in Palmer Square. enjoy coffee at Gaslight. bike to Antique Taco and eat chicken tinga tacos with Josh & Pat. bike to Museum of Contemporary Art. lie about being under the age of 18 so that my friends and I could get in for free. bike to beach. toss around a nerf football and pass the volleyball. take in the beauty of the Chicago lakefront and skyline. bbq on a deck. eat asparagus, pineapple, and two bratwurst. smoke a pipe. sleep. 

Sunday: make french press coffee. go for a 10 mile run in the sun. read the entire newest Chicago Reader. grocery shop. sit on my front porch and drink caipirinhas with my roommate. go to church. bike to Lincoln Square’s Bad Apple and eat a burger with bacon and peanut butter on it. sleep. 

what did you do today?

And so it goes

So it’s April 29 and my last blog post was in February. Yeah, that happens, I guess. Now I think I will just take a new direction with my blog, hopefully post some poignant words or things that annoy me at the end or middle of each day. 

Chicago politics are so screwy. I never know what/who to believe. Sometimes I forget who my own alderman is and which ward I live in because I now spend time going back and forth reading about new and old (and by old I mean current…wait what?) boundaries. The neighborhood I live in is currently represented by 6 alderman. I would think that generally as members of a neighborhood, we would have enough of the same needs to be represented by like TWO aldermen. Then sometimes I also question whether ward divisions further the ethnic and socioeconomic divides in Chicago (I mean, I haven’t thought too hard about it, but I ponder it.) 

And why do the aldermen I think seem like pretty solid people often get their voices (and my voice in that case….since aldermen represent the people) stifled in things like voting to pass privatization deals and the city budget?

Word of advice: It’s a bad idea to start reading about different Chicago issues around 10:30 p.m. and attempt to go to sleep. It stirs up too much frustration and encouragement to act and share knowledge for anyone to even consider trying to sleep. 

Words That Inspire

Sometimes, well a lot of times, I think it is important to learn from the words of others. I have quotes everywhere…scribbled in notebooks, painted on canvas, typed on stickies on my laptop to help remind me who I am, what I stand for, and how I like to think about a variety of things. So here are some of mine:

“The conclusion is always the same: love is the most powerful and still the most unknown energy of the world.”
–Pierre Teilhard De Chardin

“Continuous effort – not strength or intelligence – is the key to unlocking our potential.”
–Winston Churchill

“Do not assume that she who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. Her life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, she would never have been able to find these words.”
–Rilke

“Running isn’t a sport for pretty boys…It’s about the sweat in your hair and the blisters on your feet. Its the frozen spit on your chin and the nausea in your gut. It’s about throbbing calves and cramps at midnight that are strong enough to wake the dead. It’s about getting out the door and running when the rest of the world is only dreaming about having the passion that you need to live each and every day with. It’s about being on a lonely road and running like a champion even when there’s not a single soul in sight to cheer you on. Running is all about having the desire to train and persevere until every fiber in your legs, mind, and heart is turned to steel. And when you’ve finally forged hard enough, you will have become the best runner you can be. And that’s all that you can ask for.”
–Paul Maurer

“Some might tell you there’s no hope in hell just because they feel hopeless, but you don’t have to be a thing like that. You be a ship in a bottle set sail.”
–Dave Matthews

“Become a possibilitarian. No matter how dark things seem to be or actually are, raise your sights and see possibilities–always see them, for they’re always there.”
–Norman Vincent Pearle

“Oh the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are — chaff and grain together — certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.”
—George Eliot

Have your own quotes? Share ‘em!

Put Me In Coach, I’m Ready To Play

Note: this post may contain a bit of a rant, but I promise it is worth reading.

Last week, before settling in to watch the Chicago Blackhawks game, I decided I could finally spend some money on a shirt to show my support for the team. I assumed that a Sports Authority IN Chicago would have at least an average size of t-shirts and apparel to choose from (I mean, it’s not like I was expecting to the Wrigleyville location of the store to carry White Sox gear or anything).

I made my way to the team sports section and began searching for some red and black that didn’t have a Bulls or NBA logo on it, but the Blackhawk mascot and the letters NHL instead. After a bit of searching, I found the approximately 20 largest hockey jerseys I have ever seen nestled between Bears and Cubs gear (I am a fan of baseball, but come on…spring training has not even begun yet). Are they assuming all hockey fans are tall, fat men? Where’s the support for a team that is doing pretty darn good this season? This isn’t even the worst part.

Of course I marched myself over to the nearest employee and asked him if they have women’s or kids Blackhawks gear anywhere else in the store. He said no, but then lead me back to where I began, and assured me they had women’s t-shirts somewhere. We stopped at a rack near the corner where they also keep cups for male athletes. And he said something along the lines of, “Oh yes, here are the women’s shirts. I think they look nice and they seem to be pretty popular.” I reluctantly grabbed a shirt off the rack and held it up.

The shirt, although it appeared a strange red color, was see through. It also lacked a Blackhawks logo, but instead said Chicago Hockey in swirly lettering. The fabric was thinner than the paper in the cheap notebooks I buy from the dollar store, and the V-neck I am sure would expose more of the cleavage I don’t actually have than I would ever desire an athletic shirt to. Oh, and it was $30.

I smiled at the ever-so-nice employee and told him it wasn’t my style. He replied with a a confused look…like I was some high maintenance individual who just can’t be happy with the way things are. Then I proceeded to ask him if he would fork over $30 for a see through shirt that would most likely shrink after one wash and barely displays support for your favorite hockey team. He said he probably wouldn’t, and told me he would look into placing an order for a wider variety of women’s Hawks shirts. I thanked him and told him I didn’t need any additional help.

This is so silly, and I know I am not the only female who enjoys watching sports that doesn’t want to dress like a scantily clothed floozy while doing so. I am a girl and I know things about sports. I don’t want fellow sports fans to think the only reason I purchased a Blackhawks, White Sox, Bulls, etc. shirt is to make me look more attractive to the opposite sex, who apparently just loves sports more than me. When I watch sports, I watch them because I enjoy them…not because of some underlying desire to attract  a mate at a bar that is playing whatever sport is in season (trust me, I have a bit more class than that).

Why do I look so serious when I am sitting at a bar staring at a TV screen while the Hawks or White Sox are playing? Because I am watching the game. And no, random bro in the bar, I do not want to talk to you or any of your slimy friends. When a guy goes into a bar to watch a game, you take him seriously and either sit there and watch the game in solidarity or talk about the game. Word of advice bro: treat me the same way. Assume I am knowledgable about the sport I am watching, and instead of commenting on how cute I look (which in itself is not a thoughtful, creative, or original compliment), ask me which team I am rooting for, what I think about this season, or who I think could use some bench time.

That is all.

P.S. Happy Galentine’s Day!