I told myself I was going to do 2 things in September. I was going to get a job and I was going to take up running. I may have set the bar a little high but I have a reputation of being focused so I really needed to put both feet forward to accomplish these two goals.  And one of them required both feet not only going forward but faster.  To be honest,  I was really hoping the job thing worked out so I could use that as an excuse for not signing up for any crazy Chicago runs that are always going on. Clearly if I went back to being a busy executive I wouldn't have the time to train for a race since I'd be climbing a steep learning curve in the business world. On the other hand, I've been walking a lot all summer and figured I put on close to 400 miles on my shoes so running might not be that tough of a transition.  Shoot,  Forrest Gump started out walking and suddenly he was running and running and running and before he knew it, he ran across the country. Talk about focus!  Although, he was also a bit of a simpleton and had a lot of time to run because he would never have the opportunity to become a busy executive like me. Wow, the fact that I just compared myself to him is making me question who the real simpleton is here.  

Anyway, I've been networking a fair amount and planned on using Facebook as a tool. Now I can say it did drum up a bit of attention but for the most part, I've reconnected with college friends and have spent a lot of time in ridiculous and hilarious conversations that were not going to lead me to a job. But, I was still very determined to go back to work so I kept spreading the word.  And as September was approaching, it was becoming more and more clear the running career was going to come first. Before I knew it, August 31 rolled around and there I was at Fleet Feet buying the new equipment...running shoes. The very thorough salesman video taped my running so he could properly fit my feet to the right shoes for my new venture. And shoes aren't cheap, either. So now I still don't have a job and I'm dropping $95 on new shoes for a sport I don't even know if I'll like. Something is wrong with this picture. Hmm, I wonder what Forrest Gump's IQ is.

The first day of September there I was on the lakefront trying out my new shoes.  The shoe salesman recommended reading Runner's World to get beginner training information which I thought was a brilliant idea. I turned 47 a couple weeks ago and there's a high likelihood I could hurt myself  if I don't train properly.  Although I think it's likely I'll hurt myself anyway. But, I got out there and ran.  And now I officially call myself a "runner". I don't think it matters how far or long I go, I'm still a runner. I believe if  you say it enough you own it.  And after the first 2 runs, I realized I really need to step up the networking because I'd rather start calling myself "employed".  

Thankfully, good news broke on the job front during my first week as a runner. It's a temporary position at a not-for-profit that will take me through November. But, it counts and now I get to call myself "employed". Coming off of 22 years in the corporate world I'm not sure what I'm getting into but I know I'm interested because it's a job, it pays and it's still the month of September.  

So, the good news is my mission is accomplished. I'm now an employed runner.  The bad news is, I'm a bit concerned how much Forrest Gump and I may have in common.

Today's EiPod: "Walk a Mile in My Shoes",  Joe South

 

I have to start this out by stating I am not a racist. Never have been and can only hope I never will be. So, now that I put that out there...

Having free time during the day has exposed me to a lot of different things. For the past 22 years I was at my desk job using my stapler, then my stapler remover, then re-stapling the staple I just removed, calling my friends and using The Google to look up interesting factoids. Ok, that's not entirely true. I did work when I had a job. And most days I worked hard. So the fact that I am now roaming the streets during daylight hours has opened my ears to a whole new experience. 

I start my day with a walk on the lakefront. I'll be out there anywhere from an hour to 2 hours heading from Museum Park and walking north. And, I never wear headphones. I think the sounds of the city are fascinating and meant to be heard so I never understood why people want to block that noise with boom boom music. Plus, if you aren't wearing headphones you are open to lost tourists looking for directions to the Shed Aquarium or the nearest Corner Bakery. And, I must be an approachable person because at least 3 times a week I'm helping people find their way.

On my walk yesterday I not only gave directions, but also got an earful of language from 3 grown men heading south on their bikes. From about a block away I could hear them talking not to each other but AT each other.  The language was a little fuzzy but as they rode closer, the words became more clear. I'm not sure of the subject matter but it seemed like they were talking about installing a sound system. Now,  think I could probably hold my own in a conversation about aligning the colored wires with the colors in the back of the stereo. And I know I could do that without swearing once. The conversation coming out of these guys was really fast and very passionate. I couldn't understand everything they said but what I picked up went something like this "that lil' bitch put the mu-fukn' red one into the wrong mu-fukn' hole 'n shit an now ain't no sound comin' out...shit".  But, lucky for me, I was recently exposed to this dialect when I watched "The Real Housewives of Atlanta" last week. When those classy ladies get on a roll, they talk as fast and swear equally as much. I have to hand it to Bravo because they added subtitles for the dialogue on the show so the audience could follow along. It sure would be nice if there was a similar machine we could hook up to those bikes. Perhaps if I could read what the problem was I may be able to help. And then maybe they wouldn't feel the need to yell so loudly and swear so much. 

Later in the day I hopped on the Green Line to meet a friend for lunch. I haven't had much of an occasion to get on the trains during the day because, as stated above, I used to work and play with my stapler, etc. But I needed to get to lunch on time and the Green Line coming from the Southside was how I could reach my destination. 

I jumped on at Roosevelt Road and no sooner had I sat down when I heard almost the same conversation as the guys on the bikes. I took a quick look and saw a a couple of different guys screaming about something and using same words "mu-fukn' n' shit and lil' bitch".  It was uncanny. Those are the only words I could make out in the 9 minute ride I had on the train. And I have to wonder if we don't understand their English, do they understand ours? I mean the recording on the train that tells riders what stop is next is in the King's English so how do these guys know when to get off? Or do they just ride until they're tired of riding? I think maybe the CTA should follow Bravo's lead and add subtitles on the trains so everyone knows when they're stop is coming up. They could keep the English audio and add a scrollbar to interpret. So, the audio would remain "next stop, Clinton; doors open on the right at Clinton".  And, the scrollbar would read "this mu-fukn' Clinton n' shit so if this you, get off the train ya lil' bitch". 

Or, maybe I should start wearing headphones.

Today's EiPod: "In the Ghetto", Elvis Presley

I finally conceded to the masses this week and joined Facebook. Over the last year, friends have been trying to get me to join it because it's so much fun and you can see pictures of your friends and their kids and pets and blah blah blah. Yes, I was a naysayer to put it mildly. Even though I wasn't a subscriber, I'd been receiving e-mails requesting me to be someone's "friend".  My typical reply would be that I thought we were already friends so why do we need a website to solidify it. So, not only was I a naysayer, but I was a bit crotchety when it got right down to it.

The thing is, I have wonderful friends. If I was told I could choose anybody in the whole world to be friends with, I'd pick the same ones I have, no question. So, through the years I've had successful relationships because of what I call Face-to-Face Book. It's important that I spend time with everybody, both one-on-one and in groups. And, if you ask me, I think it's pretty easy to be friends with me. I like to think I have a reasonable set of  criteria for friendship; be kind, have a good sense of humor, and drink well with others. How hard can that be? So, I just didn't see any reason to join Facebook...until now. 

I am networking and in this month's Chicago Magazine there was an article about how people in my age group need to rethink how we network. It discussed how important the on-line sources are; LinkedIn, Facebook and Twitter. I'm on LinkedIn and it's been helpful getting in touch with former colleagues. I know enough about Twitter that you're allowed around 140 characters to get your message across. Well, there are many days I am a woman of few words but when it comes to writing, I can be a bit verbose. The only message I could think of to Tweet and not run over the character limit would read "WILL WORK FOR WINE". Then I thought of the type of job responses I may get and remembered that I prefer work vertically. Well,  that left me with Facebook so I started the journey on Sunday. And, I must say, it's been interesting. 

In the past 2 days I've added 30 friends; some I see regularly and others I haven't seen in 25 years. Lots of old college friends have turned up that I haven't talked to since 1984. We went to a small school in Iowa and many people have landed all over the world chasing their dreams and living a good life.  I found the whole Facebook world fascinating that one person connects with you and they tell two friends and so on and so on.  They even let your friends make recommendations for who should be your friend. And there's some kind of instant chat, a notification message button and e-mail. At one point, they were all were going off at once. And that's because I have a couple of smart-ass friends who knew I was new to this so they were trying to drive me crazy...and it worked. But yesterday alone, I was talking to Hawaii and NYC at the same time plus I had a threesome chat with a husband and wife and not one bit of that was illegal or dirty. 

So, now I'm sold on this whole Facebook concept. It's opened up a whole new world for me and I'm ready for it. It still makes me feel vulnerable but I think once I learn all the tools, it will serve its purpose. Those I've been in touch with know I'm looking for a job so the networking aspect is in play. The pictures are another story altogether. I've been "tagged" on some photos from the early '80s. Not particularly flattering but that's what I looked like back then. And, I get that it's funny to embarrass people by posting pictures on the Internet without their permission for the world to see. I just have to say now that I'm on, I can't wait to dig through my arsenal of pictures to see who I can "tag". But before I do that, I need someone to tell me what that means and how to do it.  This could be a fun game.  

Today's EiPod: "Waiting For My Real Life to Begin", Colin Hay

I took  a mini road trip the other day to a place I'd never been. It was 5 hours up through Wisconsin to Door County. Now, I have to preface this by saying I agreed to take the trip with a friend and her 9 month old to go visit one of her friends and her 2 month old. Yes, I made a conscious decision to do this because I love my friend and her baby and thought it would be really fun. It turned out to be a case of "live and learn". I learned that it's not fair to sit a baby straight up in a chair in the back seat of a car for 5 hours and expect her not to make a sound. I also learned that 9 months is a turning point for a baby and unfamiliar surroundings really aggravate them. And if they're aggravated, they let you know with a long series of whines which could last up to an hour straight. If you're like me and don't have children, you hope to never hear one of those sounds again for the rest of your life. Plus, 9 month olds are active and need to be under constant supervision because they push and pull and eat everything they can get their cute little hands on. So, I determined what we really needed was a playpen. Yes, a big playpen so the baby can safely play and sleep and not have to be watched so mommy and her friend can drink wine in peace. And I'm not talking about those dumb pack n' plays that are the size of a 2 x 2 prison cell. I mean a REAL playpen like I had growing up. Those cages must have had 10 feet of play space and could fit several babies comfortably, or uncomfortably depending on how exhausted the mother was. Back in the day I know my mom put us in there and tossed in a few toys so she could go off and smoke her cigarettes while frying up a whole chicken (that was when cigarettes and fried chicken were good for you). Ok, there's no way for me to know if that's really what my mom did with her playpen freedom because I was a baby. But, after my experience, I can only hope my mom used that opportunity to have a few belts. Anyway, the point is, I see a real need to bring back those big playpens so I'm planning to start a new line of baby goods called  "Barren Spinster".  I'm sure the things will be flying off the shelf. 

Because we had babies with us, I didn't get to experience too much of Door County. But, we did get out to do a few things. We were on the Bay side which is made up of a bunch of little towns on the water with a large Scandinavian influence. Flags are flying proudly, stores are selling viking hats and people are living in Swedish-style cottages. There's a restaurant called Al Johnson's that sells Swedish pancakes and the wait staff parades around in these traditional Swedish outfits.  I think I was about as Swedish as anybody who worked there.  And here's the thing, I've been to Sweden and I never ran into anyone in a restaurant that spoke with a Wisconsin accent. So, it was difficult for me to get into character and really believe I was in Sweden when our waitress greeted us with "oh yeah, and how are ya today?" Plus, this place had live goats grazing on the grass-covered roof. Traffic slows almost to a stop while people stare and take pictures of these poor goats.  Where is PETA? I mean I personally think wearing a warm furry coat made from dead animals is much less offensive than forcing a goat to live on the roof of a fake Swedish restaurant. And, I couldn't figure out how they get off. If they fell they would be splattered all over the parking lot.  Then there would be a bunch of little kids in plastic viking hats screaming their heads off.  Now that I think about it, I may have to add an animal line of playpens to my Barren Spinster collection so these goats can graze safely. 

Today's EiPod: "Grazin' in the Grass", Boney James

I went to Wrigley Field on Tuesday night but it wasn't to see a baseball game. Not that I wouldn't. I'm a White Sox fan but I've been in the friendly confines lots of times and it's always fun. This was a much bigger event for me. It was Elton John and Billy Joel in their Face to Face concert. Yes, the King and Queen of the Piano performing in the outfield to tens of thousands of fans. My nephew told me he had 2 FREE tickets so I asked him what I should wear. He hesitated but after a few minutes decided I had earned the opportunity to hang out with him. Phew.

The concert was 4 hours of awe-inspiring musicianship. Sure, the two of them are older now but who isn't? There were a couple of jumbotrons on either side of the stage so we had a great view of their chubby fingers tearing up the grand pianos. They played together for a bit, each taking the lead on the other's song, then split and Elton did a one hour solo as did Billy. Elton's set was loaded with the old songs that took me back to grade school where it seemed every week I was at a boy-girl basement party where we played albums and danced until the boys would figure out which slow song to play so they could turn the lights out and get the kissing started. Was "Benny and the Jets" really that romantic or just a long song for us little Catholics kids to be awkwardly linked to each other?I think the latter. Billy's "Only The Good Die Young" didn't come out until I was in high school so thankfully we weren't chanting that tune at our parties with the lights out. Not that we had a clue what the lyrics meant. Although, my father did. And it was not allowed to be played in our house. Fortunately, we had headphones.

Outside the concert was an interesting display of the 1st Amendment. I'm ok with the whole Freedom of Speech bit but I take issue when it's hateful. Across the street from Wrigley stood a group of 4 people that I surmised was a mother and her sister, both 40-ish, a daughter in her early 20s, and a son who looked about 14.  They were holding graphic signs stating who God hates, because I'm sure He told them.  "God hates Obama", "God hates Fags", "God hates Jews". The other sign they held up stated  "Jews took our land". My nephew and I figured out the "fag" and "jew" slangs were directed at the stars of the show. But when he asked me what land they were talking about, for the life of me I couldn't figure out what land the Jews took from those people holding the signs. I mean, I know a lot of Jewish people live in New York and even have places in the Hamptons, including Billy Joel and his ex-wives. But I just never read anywhere that the Hamptons used to be a trailer park before they started building sprawling manses. I'll have to research that one. 

Today's EiPod: "Honky Cat", Elton John

My youngest brother Joe got in to Michigan on Friday morning to finally join his wife, 4 kids and the rest of our family. They're from Alaska so this is always a big treat for us every year. And it's an even bigger treat for them.  Alaska has some beautiful summer weather with really long days but they just don't have the beaches or lake like we have here. So, the first day the kids head down to the lake is like watching 4 slices of Wonderbread walking on the beach. They need to practice safe tanning so layering on #30 at least 4 or 5 times during the day is not a bad thing. I hate to have them look like burnt toast. And I speak from experience.  I have to use lots of sun protection because my parents were negligent when I was a child and I was sunburned several times and am now paying for it as an adult. Ok, I'm just kidding about the negligent part. They didn't make sunscreen when I was a kid. And, I did use baby oil in my pre-teens because I thought I could only burn so much and then I'd tan like my sisters. It didn't work. And it was a stupid idea. And, it hurt. A lot.

In the 8 days our family was together, there was only one injury to report and it truly was an accident. Unfortunately, at the expense of the kids,  we all learned a valuable lesson. When skipping rocks, the target area should always be in the direction of the lake, not your younger cousin's eyeball. It was nothing a trip to the hospital couldn't take care of. Plus, it was a 5 year old boy who got to wear a patch on his eye. I don't know how many people can say they had a pirate protecting their beach for 3 days so I think we were lucky,  especially since the convicts were still on the loose in the area. 

On Saturday my pastor, Fr. Edward, come in from Chicago to say mass for our family at my parent's house.  The kids were very well behaved and I'm sure it had something to do with fewer distractions than in a church and the fact that all the adults were staring at them so they wouldn't get out of line. We had to give the 3 year old a break though. He was really good until we took the mass outside. Instead of following us to the make-shift alter in the backyard, he exited toward St. Hammock. And even that worked out ok.  A lot of churches have a cry room where kids can be themselves and not disturb the congregation. My parent's cry room just happens to be hanging from a tree. 

I came home on Sunday and reserved Monday to decompress. A dear friend had sent me a book in the mail called "The Shack" and it was my goal to finish it.  It's a spiritual journey with lots of messages about forgiveness, letting go of resentments and not judging others. It's something each of my family members have done to each other at one time or another but it seems like we keep moving forward and not letting the past cripple us. If you haven't read the book, I would recommend it. I know I'll read it again. 

I'm sure it sounds like we're not a typical dysfunctional family. But, we are.  I think we just put it on hold this year. 

Today's EiPod: "Better Days",  The Goo Goo Dolls

(these lyrics are brilliant)

4 days later and the convicts are still on the loose. "Pistol Packin' Patty", the deputy and arresting officer for the first offender in Grand Beach, told us they only have one of the perps on their radar and he left our village and headed south. Seems like the 3rd escapee was smart enough to have a plan and probably won't be seen again until John Walsh picks up the story on "America's Most Wanted".  I do feel bad for the guy that was caught. He's probably been tortured several times by a cigarette smoking detective in a bad suit trying to get information about his former inmates. I feel even worse for the one that's still in the area. He's been spotted near a mexican restaurant and a grocery store. I'm not a detective but these clues tell me he's not only hungry but is probably in desperate need of some bug spray.  It's very woodsy around here and with the record rainfall we've had  this summer I'm certain he's contracted lyme disease by now.  And if that wasn't enough, my mom's bridge game was cancelled on Monday night because of the fear in the village.  So once he is apprehended, I'm confident the Grand Beach Ladies Bridge Club will have a few choice words for him. I don't care how dangerous you think you are, you should NEVER mess with a ladies bridge club.

Our family has managed to soldier through the days without letting the felons disturb our routine. It's been lots of beach time sprinkled with trips to the outlet mall. I like to try to get a little time with each of the kids to create a special bond so at least one of them will take care of me when I'm old and drooling. I've got 14 of them and I've changed all of their diapers so I'm hoping they'll do the same for me if I need it.  

The shopping experience is different depending on the age group. I took 4 girls ranging from 10-13 and they couldn't wait to get to Bath and Body Works. I watched as they sprayed and rubbed and sniffed everything in the store.  I let them each pick out their own 5 for $5 lotions and sprays which made them shake with excitement. I too, was shaking when I started to get a whiff of the purchases. I imagined once we got home how the musty, summer lakefront smell of their rental cottage would soon be replaced by the fresh scent of a brothel.  

Another trip to the mall was with a 20 year old niece where we made a quick stop at Claire's Boutique. She was looking for earrings and when I asked if it was to replace the stud on ther newly pierced nostril, she said it was not. She informed her older, square aunt that she needed to replace her belly button ring. For cry eye, how many holes can a body take before it springs a leak? And, just an hour before our outing, we were at the beach where she revealed a 1 week old tattoo that says "Amore". She's 1/2 Italian so I should be happy she chose the translation of  the word love to scar her body. Besides,  had she gone with her Irish heritage, I think the Gaelic word for love is "Guinness" and that's just not something I want to see permanently inked on one of my family members. 

The evenings have been chock full of bbqs, kids going nuts and lots of boom boom music. I do not understand ONE word of the music these kids are playing these days which I know makes me sound old.  Listening to a 10 or 11 year old sing about "losing your panties" and "making you feel good all night" kind of makes me uncomfortable. But they don't really understand what they're singing so I don't want to draw attention to it. I threw my iPod in at one point to show them that we adults could be hip, too.  I quickly realized that children never like to see their parents as human beings so once we got up to dance and sing to our music, the kids left the room completely embarrassed. It wasn't exactly like torturing an escaped convict but by the looks on their faces, it was pretty close. And now I know exactly what to do when I need some alone time with my siblings. 

Today's EiPod: "Rapper's Delight", Sugar Hill Gang