Sweet Home Chicago

A few weeks ago my Dad informed me that my photos on here really stink. He put it kindly, to be sure:

You probably shouldn’t post any more photos on your blog until you get a nicer camera. Your photos are….not red hot.

I promptly informed that was awesome, I was a Canon girl.

(Yes, my parents read and apparently critique my blog. I really should have thought this out a little more.)

Anyway. I’m completely ignoring his advice and sharing some (crappy iPhone) photos that show the swirling weather in my fair town. Sure, everyone always clutches their chest when you mention the big “C” word and then spits out “BUT THE WINTER THERE IS JUST HORRIBLE!” Typically this person lives in Boca Raton, has no idea what constitutes “snow” and has zero idea what they are talking about. Fargo has a tough winter. Chicago has winter. There is a huge difference.

Anyway. Chicago in the spring is a teeter totter of weather patterns- a mix of spring, summer and even wintery days. You never know what you are going to get- you have to leave a few sweaters out but your skirts should be close by as well. Also your UGGs, your rain boots & your flip flops.


I love this town.

Help Me Help Me

I’m here to solicit some advice today across a range of topics.

For starters, my work out play list is getting sad and boring. Here is what it currently consists of (and is how you can tell that I’m not going to love any metal, punk rock or techno suggestions….)

So, what should I add to my work out play list? (Yes, I know, I like bad music. TOO BAD.)

Second, I’m looking for some easy breakfast suggestions for the days that I get up and go into the office at 6 am. This means that I need to be able to make said breakfast in about five minutes and it needs to “hold” (in my lunch bag or thermos) until about 7:30 am which is when I finally get a moment to sit down and eat. Right now I go back and forth between a quick smoothie (spinach, frozen fruit, kefir or Greek yogurt and a tbsp of almond butter) or a hot multi grain cereal with a tablespoon of almond butter that I heat up at the office. I don’t care for cold cereal- so does anyone have a great “on the go” suggestion for me? I have access to a microwave and boiling water once I’m at the office. Please, no doughnuts. Delicious but not nutritious. Sad, I know.

Third, any suggestions on a body sunscreen for my long rides? Sweat proof, good coverage and not too tough on the skin – I’m a sensitive soul, after all. I’m not sure if I need a more sweat proof sunscreen for my face, but if you have a suggestion for that, I’m all ears. Ha. EARS! (Yeah my ears are still crazy but I’ll talk about that another day.)




Mama’s Girl

Yesterday my Mom informed me that my blog post was nothing short of “phoning it in.”

Her exact words were, and I quote “You call that a blog post?”

Mothers and daughters, a unique relationship if there ever was one. This past weekend was Mothers Day and this year I did real good: the card made it on time. My family has an amazing track record with holidays and birthdays: some years, you get a card. Other years you get a new car. You just never know! This year it was a card. Try again next year.

I say all of that very tongue in cheek though, because the fact of the matter is my Mother went from Daisy’s Number One Enemy to my best friend. CHEESE ALERT, I KNOW. But in high school she was the pits. A friend recently asked me how I made it through high school so well behaved and without any of the drama that seems to accompany modern teen life. My answer was simple: My Mom always waited up for me. So I never got away with anything.

It is true, there was not one night in high school that I came home and my Mom was in bed. This meant that I had to sit and talk to her for ten or fifteen minutes before she let me go to bed. We became very acquainted with the pro bull riding circuit, as it was the only thing on that time of night. I hated how much she mothered me, how much she cared, how dialed in she was on my life. I wanted to be 16 and do what I wanted…and I couldn’t. Because she was ALWAYS THERE. HANGING ON WITH PINCER LIKE FORCE.

Now I know that was my saving grace. It is why I stayed out of trouble, went to a great college, and love my Mom now. It is why we chat almost every day about books we like, television shows, funny things our dogs did. It isn’t important conversation to anyone but the two of us, but it is very important to us. My Mom is the first person I call with news good or bad, and at the end of the day, I’m proud to have her in my life.

Even if she leaves blog comments under fake names.




My Week Ahead

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