Ok, so a day after I wrote the last post, I was in the elevator alone, and as the doors began to close, I heard footsteps (on the carpet, mind you...I am GOOD).  I stuck my arm in the pathway of the invisible magic sensor (which I'm sure doesn't exist), and on stepped a sharply dressed bald African American man (why am I still uncomfortable with that phrase?  What if he's of Jamaican descent, or Belizean?  I digress....

He gets on and thanks me profusely (and almost inappropriately) for holding the door.  I said, "wow, you sound like a guy who's had a few elevator doors slam on him".  He launches into a story of how when he first entered the work world, he used to become so enraged when people would let the door slam.  He turns to me with a totally serious face and says, "well, you KNOW why they didn't hold the door, don't you?"  I paused with a thoughtful face...."because you're bald?" I asked.  PAUSE  What followed was the longest three seconds of my life.  This guy is thinking, "is this bitch mocking me, or is she really this stupid?"  So I finally smile that smile that says, "lighten up dude, it's all okay".  He smiles back.  Then he says, "you're funny and sweet, but you know how people are".  And I replied, "Yea, I do.  People are both rude and unaware at times."  He nodded. 

As the doors opened at his floor, I said, "Rude and unaware don't know color.  As victims of those behaviors, we're all equal."

And you know, I believe that.  Assholes are assholes, no matter what.  I bet the elevator door slams on me just as many times as on my bald, black (yea, I know that's not the preferred adjective, deal with it) friend.  That's what makes us appreciate the nice people in our lives.

Have you ever observed people in elevators?  There are some very common behaviors that take place, and I submit to you that they are telltale signs of a person's psychological or emotional state.  For example:

The Door Slammer:  That's the guy who, although he sees you running for the elevator, as your coffee bubbles up over the mouth hole of the lid, allows the door to close on you anyway, usually pretending not to see you.

The Polite Door Slammer:  Similar to the Door Slammer above, only the Polite Door Slammer feigns an attempt to hit the "Door Open" button.  Who are we kidding, folks?  He was NEVER going to hold the door for you.

The Position Jockey:  Assuming you get ON the elevator, the Position Jockey plans his strategy long before the door opens.  He inserts himself in perfect position to read the "Captivate" news video, which only appears on one side of the elevator.

Chatty Cathy:  She loves your blouse, she loves your shoes, isn't this weather great, can you believe the Cubs are in first place....you get the idea.  Phew, finally, my floor!

The Avoider:  He's not going to make eye contact, no matter WHAT you do or say.  Even Chatty Cathy can't get him to crack.  He stares at his shoes, his briefcase, his watch, a spot on his tie, you name it.  You could have two heads and the Avoider won't flinch.

So, the next time you're in an elevator, see which of these personalities gets on with you...or slams the door on you!

I lost my job two weeks ago.  While this was the kick in the ass I needed, it's not easy to be 43 and facing unemployment.  Still, it got me thinking about the concept of loss, and the many things I've "lost" in my life.   So I spent some time feeling sorry for myself - lost jobs, lost opportunities, lost family and friends, etc.  Woe is me.

Pity party's over.

While I didn't do a balance sheet on this, I think I've FOUND way more than I've lost....

an unbelievable love
some of the best friends i've ever had
my self respect, after my divorce
acceptance of my family dynamic, crazy as it seems sometimes
patience, although lord knows, i need more

After a year of on/off consideration, I am finally putting my condo on the market.  Seems like a trivial decision, I know, but not if you were raised by my parents.  My dad is calling from the grave, "you're going to sell and then RENT?  Hon, you should give this some more thought."  I find myself reasoning with him, "But Dad, you don't understand, times are different, I can rent a bigger place for less money."  I think I'm becoming neurotic over this.  But I am also excited.

1.  In one transaction, I will be rid of the awful energy of some residents in my building.
2.  It's time for a very big purge, and the only way to do it is to move.
3.  I already know where I'm going to live next, and it's beautiful and very close to work.
4.  Change is is good!

TigerLily's road trip to Ohio got me thinking about summer vacations.  When I was a kid, we didn't have much (any) money.  My mom and her sister used to pack us all up in the car (three kids, two adults) and drive "down the shore".  If you're not familiar with the phrase, that's how people from New Jersey say "to the beach".  They would rent one motel room for all of us and we'd pack all kinds of food, because, of course, we couldn't afford to eat out more than a few times while we were there.  The car wasn't air conditioned and had black "pleather" seats.  A ten minute pee stop turned into a twenty minute tantrum by those of us who left a layer of skin on the seats at the last pee stop.

The ride was only about 45 minutes long, but it seemed to last three hours.  My cousin was such a brat and would whine and complain the whole way there.  I would BEG not to have to sit next to her, but since we were the youngest, our opinions didn't count.  By the time we arrived, we'd spill out of the car, as if it were a torture chamber.  My mom would go into the motel office and check us in, no doubt lying about how many people were going to actually STAY in the room.

There's something about motel rooms when you're a kid....it was so exciting to be anywhere other than home.  The beds had those massage thingy's attached.  We'd sit and feed quarters into that machine just to feel the bed shake and slam against the wall.  God only knows what the people next door must have thought we were doing.

We could never afford to stay ON the beach, which meant hauling all our crap (beach towels, blankets, coolers, sand toys, rafts, hats, change of clothes, kitchen sink, etc.) the three, four or five blocks to the beach, where we'd sit all day.  It would take us an hour just to set up.  And then there were the rules:  1.  Wait 1/2 hour after eating before going in the water.  2.  Stay right in front of the lifeguard stand when swimming.  3.  Don't go out too deep.  4.  (my favorite)  If I have to come and get you out of the water, you're staying out for the rest of the day.  My mom had a wicked temper, so trust me, I never tested Rule #4.  In the evenings, we'd go to the Boardwalk and ride the roller coasters.  There was this really neat trampoline place (these were the days before every kid had one in his backyard).  You could bounce for hours for a dollar.  Between the coasters and the bouncing, it's a wonder we kept any food down.

So funny enough, 35 or 40 years later, and after a recent stay at a swanky hotel ON the beach in South Beach, and after countless luxury vacations, I really miss those "shore" trips.  I can't remember the last time we all were together, just the girls.  And I can't remember when something so simple made me so happy. 

I thought I'd let you know that I'll be winning this evening's MegaMillions lotto drawing, so if you don't see any more posts from me, you'll understand.  Afterall, I'll be very busy jetting off to some exotic land, and there will hardly be time for journaling (or is that journalling?).

I play the lottery a few times a year and I am always convinced that I'm going to win.  It's kind of fun to think about.  Things I'd do with $45 million....

1.  Quit my job - I'd quit via singing telegram.  I like my boss, he'd understand.  I'm thinking something along the lines of a gigantic drag queen in a Carmen Miranda get-up.  Perfect.
2.  Show up at my sweetheart's office with a bottle of champagne and a sack of cash.
3.  Send my three officemates each $10,000.  They're awesome kids and deserve some money to piss away however they see fit.
4.  Pay off my mortgage and put a homeless family in my condo.  I would do this for two reasons.  1) It's a nice thing to do.  2) It will thoroughly piss off the Board and those neighbors that I desperately want to piss off.  (you all know who you are)
5.  Get on a plane and personally tell my mom (she has a bad ticker, don't want to shock her over the phone), then fly her to Italy to buy a house.
6.  Show up at my sister's house with another five dogs (she has four rescues) and a million bucks to go buy a farm....and 100 more dogs.
7.  Give a million dollars each to my favorite animal, breast cancer and AIDS charities.
8.  Send checks to my ten closest friends and family members for $100,000.
9.  Send a limo to the homes of my three closest friends to whisk them away (no luggage) for a one month vacation in Tahiti.
10.  Find another job.  (I can't sit on my ass all day long!)

:)

Yesterday I did a sprint distance triathlon.  It was probably my 8th or 10th sprint distance tri, and as such, I was pretty nonchalant about the whole affair.  I even drank a few beers the day before the race, something I would never do when I was a "newbie".

When I signed up, I realized it was a "girls" triathlon.  For those of you that don't know, the latest fad in fitness is these "ooh-rah, girl power" races to which men aren't invited.  My general opinion of these is typically low.  I mean really, ladies, isn't an all-girl race somewhat of a sellout?  Haven't we been fighting for equality all these years?  Do we just want it when it's convenient?  I was even MORE nonchalant about the race after learning I'd be surrounded by 2,499 other women.

When the alarm went off at 4:45 a.m., I actually considered blowing off the race.  "I've done this distance before", "It's just a girl race", "I could go out and run 10 miles and get a better workout"...those were just some of the excuses I came up with laying there in the dark.  But, I knew I wouldn't forgive myself for no-showing, so up I got.

The race start was delayed due to lighting.  Again, I considered bailing.  "Pancakes sound really good right now", I thought. 

Just after a drenching downpour, I learned that Patrick, my boyfriend, had arrived with his two daughters.  This was amazing, considering they had to get up at 6 a.m.  We stood together, waiting for the "all clear" from the race officials.  It was fun standing with the girls, discussing race strategy and other important topics like whether I was permitted to keep my orange swim cap. 

Finally, after an hour wait, I was off.  I had a good, strong swim.  Swimming has never been my event, and generally, I stick to the back of the pack.  But on this day, I charged and passed a few people in my wave.  As I was getting out of the water, still focusing my eyes, I could hear kid voices yelling my name.  "Oh my gosh", I thought, "those are the girls".  I found them in the crowd and there they were, with their dad, jumping up and down and screaming their lungs out.  I waved and smiled and then I got goosebumps.  This was definitely a new feeling, having kids at a race cheering for me.

Out on the bike course, I kept leap-frogging with this woman who was at least 10 years older than me, judging by her wave number.  She would come up behind me and say, "on your left".  After about three times of us passing each other, I finally asked her her name.  Debbie and I remarked at how only in a women's race would you hear things like, "passing on the left - you look great!".  We laughed that if a man were passing, he would either say nothing or something way less friendly.  The bike course was comprised of two loops, so twice I got to hear my cheering section screaming my name.  It was so awesome, I got a little choked up.

On the run, I passed the woman with a cane whom I had seen during the swim.  Seriously...a cane!  She was in one of the first waves which means she was either a cancer survivor or over 50 years old.  Either way, I was thoroughly impressed to see her out there on the run course, motoring along.  As I came up behind her, I said, "you are amazing".  She seemed kind of surprised, but thanked me. 

As I was heading for the finish line, I was scanning the crowd for Patrick, Ellie and Julia.  I didn't see them and thought I missed them, but then almost as I entered the chute, there they were, jumping and screaming and smiling.  I've never been so happy to see someone at the end of a race. 

So here I am, reflecting on a race that I initially wasn't too excited about doing.  Lessons learned:

1.  All-girl events can be fun.
2.  Once the dark clouds pass, great things can happen.
3.  Kids make the best cheerleaders, especially when they're cheering for you.
4.  Sometimes it's not about you, and you have to go through the experience to touch someone else's life.
5.  Being loved is the best feeling on the planet.

From my window, I can see the Chicago summer.
Millennium Park, Buckingham Fountain, Monroe Harbor,
Soldier Field, Grant Park, the museums, the aquarium.

If you live in Chicago, you forget how beautiful it is
after enduring a seven month winter.
But today, it's amazing, and I appreciate it.

Because tomorrow, it may snow.

Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of the death of my friend Susan Maslen from breast cancer (and related complications).  Aside from the fact that this disease took my friend at way too early an age (44), it's just a pretty nasty disease that has no cure - yet.  Did you know:

Breast cancer is the second leading cause of cancer deaths among women. 

This year, almost 200,000 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in this country, 60,000 women will be diagnosed with in situ (early stage) breast cancer , and over 40,000 will die from breast cancer.

At 43, I have a one in 70 chance of developing breast cancer in the next seven years.   (*American Cancer Society, Surveillance Research, 2007)  I wish the lottery odds were that good.

Things that can help reduce one's risk of developing breast cancer - weight management,  regular physical activity and minimizing alcohol intake.  Hopefully I do enough of the first two to overcome the third....A recent study revealed that 2 drinks per day on a regular basis can increase breast cancer risk by 21%.  YIKES.

The bottom line is, this disease sucks and every woman should know the facts.  Check out cms.komen.org or the American Cancer Society's site for more info.  If you're over 40, GET THOSE MAMMOGRAMS!

Susan was an important presence in many lives.  She was driven, competitive, funny, bright and kind.  She was a great athlete and friend, and I miss her, especially as triathlon season begins.  Susan competed, and often did exceptionally well in triathlons WHILE she was undergoing non-stop chemo.  I don't think she knew what it was to slow down or God forbid, quit.  She was, and continues to be, an inspiration to me.