see as i saw

These days, I have so much time to let my mind run wild that I keep coming up with ideas and promptly forgetting about them.  Sometimes it's a job or business idea.  Other times it's a project I want to work on.  It can also be a topic I want to write about.  Of course, there's also the list of things I want to learn or accomplish. I try to write them down, but sometimes I'm convinced that I'll remember the idea later.  That's rarely how it works.

So, to throw a light on one of those many noted and forgotten goals and ideas: I want to attack the list of 100 novels that everyone should read.  Clearly there will be differentiation from one list to another.  From what I can find, the most "official" list comes from the Modern Library board.  Listed alongside the board's list is the reader's list (check out both lists here).  I'll warn you that sifting through these lists is an easy way to feel inadequate.  I'm an avid reader and even love classic literature.  My final tallies: 10% of the board's list completed and 13% of the reader's list.

When comparing the lists, they have only 30 novels in common.  That indicates the top 30, in my opinion.  I already have seven (only seven?!) of those under my belt.  Well, maybe 6.25 - I'm in the midst of reading Of Human Bondage now.  So, those other 23 will be my starting point.  There are 31ish weeks left in 2012, so my mission is to have the top 30 checked off before the calendar year changes.  I suppose that means I'll have to become friends with the Chicago Public Library again (and make good on the $0.31 in overdue charges still lingering).

In all honesty, I have never been one of those people who wishes they could go back to high school days.  Actually, I spent most of the time I was there counting down the days until I left.  There's no singular reason for my impatience and lack of fond regard, high school just wasn't a scene that I was generally interested in.

Something that I've realized about those years that I do miss is the sports, both playing and spectating.  Tennis gave me a mission and a focus, during the on- and off-season periods.  There were practices and meets five days a week, sometimes weekend tournaments, and I enjoyed being around my tennis "family".  Although I did generally spend Friday nights at varsity football games, I was more of a soccer girl.  I befriended soccer moms, traveled for games, and sat through cold and rain.  During my freshman and sophomore years, I was there for JV and varsity games.  Hard core.  Plenty of time was spent at basketball games and boys tennis meets, too.  Sometimes I dabbled in baseball and wrestling fandom.

Sure, I could go to professional sporting events or even minor league games to fill my sports void.  Oh, and I hear ESPN is a really good source.  A couple things though: game tickets aren't necessarily all that cheap (making frequency of attendance an issue) and I don't know the people on the field, court, etc.  Regardless of my general feelings about the high school experience, I was in full support of my classmates' efforts when they were competing.  I took pride in their victories.  Perhaps this is why people have kids and enroll them in sports; it's probably the next best thing.

 Sometimes the universe hands you days that are so beautiful that you can't help but make concessions.  Friday was meant to be a productive day, and it was until noon.  Then my book and I found a park bench in the sun.  Today made such a valiant effort to be better than yesterday that I felt obliged to partake in another act of indulgence.  There's something about summertime weather that calls for a margarita.  And when you have a margarita, you might as well throw in some enchiladas.

I have lived in Chicago for nearly three and a half years, and I'm always wondering how I can live so close to Lake Michigan and not know anyone with a boat.  There were so many watercraft just pining away in their slips today, unused and unloved.  Don't boat owners know that there are people like me who would love to extend much needed attention to their expensive toys?  Do you think there's any potential in a service that's like dog walking, except you take people's boats out for a spin?  If not, then I guess I'll continue to be a failure at having a friend (or even an acquaintance) with a boat.

Since the beginning of 2012, I have put a lot of time into exploring and learning as a means of seeking my next life destination.  That means not only internal reflection, but also consulting an array of external experiences and written material - books, articles, blogs, etc.  Today I ran across a blog that's associated with a book.  This book happened to make some headlines, so perhaps you've heard of it: The 4-Hour Work Week.

I didn't wade through a lot of the original content, but I was struck by a stats page.  It broke down the average number of vacation days taken in a year, U.S. vs. the world.  Being at the bottom of the list was expected, but the actual difference was a bit mind-boggling:
Italy - 42
France - 37
Germany - 35
Brazil - 34
Britain - 28
Canada - 26
Japan - 25
USA - 13

Something else that I continually circle back to in my quest for a next step is a desire for flexibility.  I have whims (no surprise there) that make a cubicle feel like a cage.  If only I could have the freedom and be trusted to manage my daily workload from outside the confines of the office environment when I needed wanted to.  There was another set of stats on The 4-Hour Work Week blog that spoke to this new-fangled concept.  Although they're somewhat dated, I would guess that the general trend still applies.

At the end of 2007, Best Buy HQ converted all 4,000 employees to a "Results-Only Work Environment".  Work no longer defined a physical place, but rather a task that you perform (as it should be).  The basis for performance was output instead of hours.  Employees now worked wherever and whenever they wanted.  What was the outcome?

There was a 35% rise in productivity, compared to figures from 2005.  The average change in quitting across all divisions was -72.3%!  People stopped quitting their job when they were given more freedom AND they became more productive.  So, I guess it just gives me hope.

Usually I turn right on the Lakefront Path, because the beach and lake views don't disappear.  I decided to finally give into the left turn and was graciously rewarded.  I make no secret of my love for the scent of lilacs; who needs roses.  Multiple rows of lilac bushes qualified this as a grove, in my opinion.  It seems I wasn't the only camera wielding Chicagoan that was smitten either.

I also spent a little time in the park, just me and a Coelho book basking in the sunshine.  That is until a toddler approached my bench.  I said hello, expecting her to toddle by or be swept up by a parent momentarily.  Nope.  She climbed up next to me and smiled like we were old friends, started spewing gibberish and giggling.  I helped her figure out how to set her bottle down so it didn't tip, she reached for my apartment keys.  Finally dad appeared with the stroller and parked himself two feet in front of us.  Interestingly, he didn't sweep her up and rush away (I suppose that means I don't look threatening?).  I played a couple rounds of word recognition with the kid.  (She got "keys" correct, but called my book a "rock"...)

There's a point to this story, beside the fact that a dad let his baby interact with a random girl in the park. I found myself slightly envious of her unworried, free-spirited nature.  She had no qualms walking right up and interacting with me.  There was no over-analyzing, no fear of rejection or awkwardness.  When she saw something of mine that interested her, she didn't stop herself from being inquisitive.  Obviously we give more concessions to a two-year-old who is just discovering the world.  I probably would've been less supportive of a 40-year-old woman acting the same way.  So, my question here is: when does it stop being seeming socially acceptable to approach people without invitation and insert yourself into their day?  What is the dividing line between innocent and invasive?

You know how there's that sort of unwritten Law of Target?  As in, you drop by Target to run in and grab laundry detergent, then you stumble out $100 poorer?  Somehow I tend to skirt that law pretty well.  My weakness, though,  is Meijer's grocery section.

After three years of doing my daily/weekly grocery shopping in Chicago-sized stores, I nearly go weak in the knees when those automatic doors open and I behold the masses of spacious Meijer aisles.  Have you seen how long the cereal aisle is?  I can't help myself from putting one thing in my cart because I can never find it in Chicago, then another thing in my cart because I never see a price that low.  Then I reach the produce section; prices are a non-entity.  Needless to say, my fridge looks like a fruit market right now.

Urban grocery shopping, you will never win me over.  Sorry.  My heart and stomach belong to Meijer.

Writing often uses metaphor to make an abstract concept more tangible for readers.  Actually, the average person does the same thing.  The difference comes in implementation: writers create full-blown articles and books to get the point across, everyone else is more likely to choose from a well-stocked history of metaphorical phrases.  On a bike ride with my Dad this afternoon, I had a case of writer's mind.  I spent the entire ride create a metaphor revolving around life and a bike ride.

I think that I'm going to write it out in more detail, even if I do nothing more than keep it to myself.  The basic starting point came to me as we coasted down the first big hill today.  I thought about how much I loved that feeling of flying as a kid.  There was no regard for the things that run through my head now: keep your hand close to the brake, watch for cars, avoid lose gravel on the curve.  That directed my thought process toward a broader, related consideration.  Do I approach everything that should be a pleasurable aspect of my life with this same reticence?  How much does that dilute the enjoyment?  And is it a bad thing to be realistic and prepared?

From there, my mind start to mull the obvious comparison of the ups and downs in life to the uphills and downhills on a bike.  There were tangential thoughts about pain, challenge, appreciation, detours and so on.  I should include a disclaimer here that bike rides in my family aren't short, leisurely spins around the neighborhood.  My Dad knows where to pick out long inclines and steep hills that make it feel more like interval training.