see as i saw

I'd like to formally lodge a complaint with the universe regarding the cold, gray and rain.  I want to spend time outside!  Also, the outdoors is my substitute gym membership.  It's difficult to use when everything is soggy and drab.  Ok, enough of that.

You know what I'm rather excited about?  Injecting a little Pure Michigan into my life, in the form of a long weekend.  I'll be keeping things interested with a grab bag of activities: organizing a craft room, judging figure skating, engaging in the loud madness of a family gathering, trying out some vino with Dad, and even spending quality time with my favorite Wolverine.  Yet, I fully intend to find some quiet time with nature during the lulls.  I miss seeing stars at night and getting lost in my own mind while walking in the woods.

There's a couple that lives on my floor, probably around 60 years old.  He's from Australia and always addresses me as "love", probably because he doesn't really know or remember my name.  Anyways, nice people.  I ran into him at the elevator today, loading up some lumber and stuff.  We chatted about the project he had worked on all day and I mentioned how I grew up in a project-oriented home.  Long story short, he said it sounds like he'd really get along with my dad.

I started thinking about how I hear similar statements all the time: "I think I'd love your mom" or "Your parents sound fun".  This led me to surmise two things.  First, it's not surprising that my parents have so many friends and social invites; even miscellaneous strangers think they sound more than alright.  Second, I must think they're more than alright, too...seeing as I'm clearly finding plenty of time to talk them up to these miscellaneous people.  I will not, however, start carrying photos of them in my wallet as visual support for my stories.

While many people spent the day celebrating a "holiday" (that Mexico doesn't even recognize) with margaritas or import beers, I reconnected with an old love.  Starbucks Frappuccino.  There were several factors that converged to lead me there:

1) I haven't visited a Starbucks since redeeming a free birthday beverage
2) A tempting new Frappuccino that sounded like just my chocoholic style
3) Half price happy hour special on said Frappuccino
4) Gift card from Grandma to pay for my caloric overload

Since I was splurging, I figured it was time to go all out.  I completely skipped over the those non-fat, sugar free options for my delightful mocha concoction.  Did I mention that it was topped with chocolate whipped cream and cookie crumbles?  Mmm.  (This post is not a paid endorsement, but I'd be willing to accept free beverages from Starbucks if they offered :)

Nothing like living in the Midwest, segueing from 85 degrees and humid yesterday to 60 and breezy today.  Despite heat, humidity or rain, I have urged myself to work out four days in a row.  I couldn't actually tell you the last time that I put together four consecutive workouts; it wasn't in 2012.  Given my budgetary restrictions, overpriced Chicago gyms aren't on the agenda.  So, I'm relying on my own motivation and taking it to the lakefront every morning.  There's something inherently peaceful about facing the water or the skyline, even when you're doing lunges and squats.

My goal is six days a week, but five will be acceptable.  That sounds more hardcore than it is.  These aren't very high intensity workouts.  I do have to consider the fact that I could come up against some rather worthy opponents still: cold and rain.

In my head, I know that ebooks and shopping for standard bound books online are efficient and convenient.  In my heart, I tend to have a difficult time letting go of the bricks and mortar bookstore.  When I know exactly which title I'm trying to buy, Amazon.com is my friend.  When I'm sitting on a CTA bus in traffic, I love that there's a book sitting on my phone's memory card.  But when I want to lose myself in that far-reaching and multi-faceted world of literature, I want to be surrounded by shelves and stacks.

There's no doubt that I judge a book by its cover, as well as it's title and thickness.  After all, there has to be some sort of heuristic employed to keep me from picking every book off the shelf one at a time.  Side note: that doesn't sound like a bad way to spend a day.  For me, the bookstore isn't just a purchasing domain, it's an experience.  The smell of the printed word.  Getting lost in my own world as I peruse a few pages; sometimes that has a tendency to lead to a few chapters.  Hearing the hushed tones of other book mongers around me.

My family used to drive a half hour to the nearest Borders store (may it rest in peace) when I was a kid.  We would all walk in and out of the front door together, but that was the only interaction I would have with them for hours.  There was no sense of urgency in these trips.  We left when the last person was ready to make a purchasing decision.  Until then, you contented yourself with your surroundings.  Clearly that was not an issue for me.  I've had my nose stuck in books for my entire life, and until the past couple of years they weren't digital.  So, yes, I have bookstore nostalgia.  And you'll never find me giving up on stocking my bookshelves.

As I walked back from the lakeshore today, I noticed that the gate to the Caldwell Lily Pond was finally open.  Although the vegetation is still in its infancy, that sense of zen still exists.  Somehow urbanity fades away once you walk through that gate.

In other topics related to state of mind, I had a conversation with my Dad the other day about El Camino de Santiago, a pilgrimage route across northern Spain.  It's something that I've been familiar with for years, thanks to my infatuation with Paulo Coelho's books, but my Dad only became acquainted upon watching a movie recently.  I've casually thought that it would be an extraordinary mental and physical journey, traversing 750km on foot, especially since it's in Spain.  Apparently that movie piqued my Dad's interest too, and he asserts that he'll do the journey with me.  One thing everyone should know is that planting a seed related to international travel is not safe with me, unless you intend to follow through; I've already started initial research on this trip.  Seeing as my parents international experience spans only as far as Canada (which doesn't count when you grow up in Michigan), this would be quite the intense foray into world travel for him, although a commendable starting point.  But me, I'm ready to leave tomorrow.  Since that won't happen, I'll settle for buying Coelho's book detailing his pilgrimage on the Camino.

Somehow we have already lived through a third of 2012.  In some ways, I can't imagine how four months have already passed, because it seems like I haven't done anything.  On the surface, nothing appears to have changed.  When I look a little closer, I realized that there have been quite a few bullet points in these four short months.

I quit my job and wandered into the great unknown, which I'm still lurking in.  I jetted off into an international dream world by myself for a month.  While I was there, I learned how to surf, navigated a nonsense public bus system in a foreign language, MacGyvered a leaking sink, disposed of a locust of bees, and stockpiled so many other life lessons.  Since I've been home, I threw together a Craigslist ad and learned how much people were willing to spend for my time and knowledge.  I inserted myself into an industry completed unrelated to my work experience and ended up on the set of Hoarders.  In the vast collection of spare moments that I have, I found a sense of contentment in cooking (something I spent most of my life fighting against).  Moral of the story: these four seemingly short months have allowed me to aggregate more personal growth and life experience than most years of my life.

Here's to the next third of the year being just as eventful and exploratory!