ready for what’s ahead.

Morning, chickadees!

After a long, relaxing weekend in MI, it’s back to the hustle and bustle of the city.

Also, April has decided to show its face, and although I am brutally aware of the fact that it is only 22 degrees out today, I have the utmost confidence that this is the month in which it will decide to be spring.

You guys are with me, right?

In other news, this weekend I decided to start my giving campaign to Cory Booker’s Senate race, because I think he’s a guy who’s doing great things, and also, I’m maybe a tiny bit obsessed with him.

Maybe a little more than a tiny bit.

In any case, after donating, I threw a tweet in his direction, and two minutes later, my phone beeped with a notification.

 

How’s that for a beautiful end to an Easter weekend?

Other than that little one word gem (that I will treasure until the end of time, or at least until Cory and I become best friends in real life, which will probably be soon), I’m ready for one big week in front of me, opening day of baseball (I’m giving myself at least one whole month before I fall into a Cubs’ despair), and the promise of above freezing.

We’re pretty sure we’re gonna get there at some point, right chickens?

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it today!

hey chicago, what do you say?

Ok, so we didn’t win last night.

No big surprises on that front, although at least I got to watch the Cubs score, right?

Right.

Last night we spent the early evening drinking endless cans of 312 among Loyola alumni and chatting up a storm before finally deciding to head to the game.

We were basically the last ones left on the patio.

I think the deal is over, Ky noted, as we all turned to watch two girls hauling away a cooler of beer.

It was time to get to the field.

Where we switched to Old Style beers and still chatting, but also keeping one eye on the game.

And maybe, if you’re me, launching yourself to your feet and screaming expletives every time your team does something you wish they wouldn’t.

Which is a lot of launching, when you’re a Cubs’ fan.

In the end though, I admit, a trip to Wrigley in the summer is a beautiful thing, no matter who wins.

Although it’s better if it’s not the other team, I suppose.

Also fun no matter with is the chance to spend some time with my pals, even if it means laughing about nothing and taking blurry phone pictures of ourselves like teenagers.

I would like to point out to you, readers, that last night we thought this was the best picture we’d ever taken.

I’m not ready to comment on what that means.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it, chickens!

crackerjack.

Morning, chickens.

And welcome to opening day, one of the best days of the year in sports.

Especially when you live less than a mile down the street from this:

While I accept that this might be yet another “rebuilding” year (i.e. I will pay good money to drink bad beer and watch my beloved team bite it), opening day is still an exciting and hopeful day in the life of a baseball team.

Everyone’s got a shot on opening day, chickadees.

Plus it means the party’s about to start in my neighborhood and last until September.

I’ll be sick of this by June, but for the moment, I’m ready to get to it.

Go Cubs!

Also up today, I’ve got some cross training on my plate. This week got thrown off a little bit by my sojourn to the suburbs and then the weekend trip I’m taking to Michigan, so I’ve got to get at least another two workouts in before I hop in the car and speed off to the country for the weekend.

I’m not looking forward to going back to an indoor workout this evening, but I see no other way.

Stairmaster, I’m coming for you.

You’ll probably take me down.

I’m cool with that.

It’s all in the name of progress.

And with that, I’m headed into work early to continue with the week’s catch up. Enjoy the sunshine, chickens!

Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks.

Okay, it’s freezing outside.

And it’s supposed to rain later on today.

But it’s also Opening Day.

Which means that for one brief moment in time, my dreams of the Cubs finally winning a World Series aren’t dashed.

Check in with me later today for an update.

It’s also April Fools’ Day though, so maybe check in with me after tomorrow’s game.

A girl can be hopeful, can’t she?

The Cubs in town also means that people are already lining up at the bars in Wrigleyville, and that I’m apt to run into a few die hard fans (or a few thousand) while traipsing through my neighborhood this weekend.

It’s nice to be surrounded by people with a common goal, I guess.

Last night, JD and I took a jog around the neighborhood, free of the fear of being knocked over by drunk fans or stepping in not quite empty nacho containers for the last time.

After that, it’s a run-at-your-own-risk situation.

I’ll try not to complain that much, as running by Wrigley probably isn’t something to sneer at.

Other things going on this weekend: heading out for sushi with J & V tonight (and hopefully not beating back the crowds- my guess is they’ll be headed out for bar food, not sushi), crossing my fingers and wishing Uconn to a Final Four victory this weekend, and blessedly, doing absolutely nothing that involves a duck, with or without its head.

I need a break from poultry.

And with that, chickadees, I’m off to push through this Friday.

 

Take me out…to Goose Island?

Last night was an alumni event for Loyola, and included both an open bar at Goose Island, and tickets to the Cubs’ game.

How could you say no to that?

Ky didn’t even go to Loyola and she knows you don’t pass up that opportunity.

KT, JD, Ky, and myself all congregated on the patio of the bar, beers in hand, by 5:30. It had been a couple weeks since the four of us had all been in one place, so we chatted, laughed obnoxiously, and ate plates of chicken fingers and tortilla chips.

And had some more beer.

At one point, we noticed the crowd was thinning out. We got another beer. Unfortunately, they were out of 312, so it was Honker’s Ale for us.

We then realized the game was in the third inning. We were the only ones left on the patio.

Finding ourselves in the same position as we had been last year at this event, we attempted to chug the Honker’s (if you’re familiar, this is not really a “chugging” beer) and headed out through the parking lot to the game.

Where we found our seats and had another beer.

The game itself was also fun, due to being in the company of my fellow Ramblers, and the fact that the Cubs actually pulled it out and won the game.

I could barely remember the words to “Go Cubs Go,” since it had been so long.

Good thing they put the words up on the big screen.

I don’t know what I’m doing in that picture with my hand. Or my squinty eye, really.

My apologies.

Anyway, although the evening was a lot of fun, and I got myself home at a decent hour, the combination of beer and fried food did a number on my night of sleep, so when 5:10 came this morning and it was time to rise for my workout, I was certain it wasn’t going to happen.

Sorry, training plan, but you’ll have to wait until after work.

So up tonight is a bike/run combination, and hopefully by then, I’ve coerced my body back into training mode.

No more fried food, I promise.

At least not until the weekend. After that, all bets are off.

Middle of The Road

That’s the kind of day I’m assuming it’s going to be, what with the hump day and all.

Chicago is still unreasonably warm for this time of year, which I’m trying to take in stride.

Just keep thinking about when it was 20 degrees and the wind was literally pushing you back where you came from.

It’s all about comparative thinking.

Also, the Cubs = 3 game winning streak. Once again, I mention this only in passing, as I know they’re always about to crush my hopes and dreams.

This week has been (thus far) quick moving, which is great, because it’s all inching me toward a nice.long.weekend. In the meantime, I’ve been watching season finales, working out, and trying to use all the produce hiding out in my crisper.

Hi, my name is Nikki and I can’t resist a 2 for 1 deal at the Farmer’s Market.

This kind of deal sounds great in theory, but has left me with tons of spring onions and spinach that I have no plan for.

Also, this is not baby spinach, triple washed from Whole Foods, ready to be thrown into a hot pan with some olive oil.

This spinach is instead as sandy as a toddler at the beach, with giant leaves and stems that need to be cut back before you can even think about cooking them.

I have more than this, but you get the idea.

I’m thinking about investing in a machete.

It is delicious though, so I guess I should just shut my trap and embrace the 30 minute process of washing, rewashing, cutting up, and rinsing one more time for good measure.

And if that doesn’t work, I’ll get JW to do it.

There’s a solution to every problem my friends.

Have a good day chicks!

Summer: Full Speed Ahead

This weekend was a preview of things to come, I hope. Here’s a list of things about it that I hope I’ll see more of, and soon.

1. Hot weather. Although, if I’m going to be honest, perhaps just a little. Less. Hot. Thanks.

2. Good company, and good food. Sunday evening outdoor gathering with my friends, eating enchiladas made by CC’s mom and dad, who came from California, and made us delicious guacamole, and a whole dinner. I wish someone’s parents came into town every weekend. Also, the beginning of summer picnic planning, hanging out with Mooly (who has requested to be referred to as that, in my blog) and friends, and, a sweet ending with popsicles and twilight. Lovely.

Yum. Also, the popsicle sticks had terrible jokes on them. I loved it.

3. A soccer game under the lights. Still my favorite way to play the game. Even though we lost, and I scuffled with a ref, and we should have won. Being under the lights = making it better.

4. A fantastic weekend for Chicago sports. The Cubs’ won two games (once again, this is all I have to say about that), and a win from the Blackhawks that pushed us into the Stanley Cup finals. While I haven’t been a huge hockey fan since my cousins T & J played in high school, I’m getting into it now. And plus, there is nothing I love more than when Chicago makes me proud. Go Hawks!

5. Reading on my deck, for the first time. Just finished The Story of the Night, which I liked. It takes place in Argentina, and is centered around a man who’s trying to figure out where he fits in his country and in his life in general. It was well written, and a good story. This is my second by Colm Toibin, and I think I’m officially into him. Add another one of his titles to my ever growing list of books, please.

Ok lovelies, I’m ready to jump into the week. One more long week, and then the summer holidays and barrage of weddings start up. I’m hoping to catapult into the thick of summer and then I’ll work on finding a way to stay there as long as I can. Send suggestions on how to make this happen.

Cloudy Wednesday

Fitting, to have such blah weather on hump day, I think.

Anyway, we headed out to the Cubs’ game last night, where my beloved Cubarinos very nearly staged a late comeback, but alas, couldn’t get it done.

Let’s not get into the fact that this happens far too much for my liking.

In any case, the rain held off, the field looked great, and JW actually came back to our seats at one point with these:

Yes, that is a helmet full of nachos.

I won’t lie–these were ridiculously awesome. The couple next to us took one look and headed off in search of their own helmet. It probably could have been shared between four people though, not two.

That didn’t stop us.

Post helmet scarfing, JW promptly took the hat to the bathroom, rinsed it off, and perched it on his head for much of the remainder of the game.

Tell me I’m not the only one who found that slightly unnecessary.

It was also Northwestern University night, which meant that we were smack dab in the middle of about fifty undergraduates, who would.not.stop.talking.

I talk a lot, I can relate.

However, in the first or second inning, I specifically caught a piece of a conversation that went something like this:

Girl 1: Oh my God, he was just being so annoying and stupid about everything.
Girl 2: It sounds like it.
Girl 1: But then- I found out he went to a state college.
Girl 2 (smirking): Oh, well that explains a lot.

I kid you not. I hope they’re still smirking when their student loans keep them in studio apartments until they’re 45 years old.

Says the girl who went to a private college.

Which, I think, makes me an expert on how.these.things.turn.out.

All in all though, it was a good night at the Friendly Confines, and I look forward to more games as the summer gets rolling.

But maybe, no more nachos.

It’s too early to make that call for certain though.

Take me out to the ballgame?

So yesterday I was offered Cubs’ tickets for this evening, which I snapped up right away, since it’s May and I confess that I have not yet been to a game.

Keep that to yourself.

I was pretty excited, since it’s been more than a half year since I stepped into this fine little structure:

Also, I’ve heard that they have nachos in a giant baseball helmet. Please, someone confirm this is true.

I may find it necessary to take this matter under investigation.

I woke up this morning, and realized that it seemed rather dark, even for five-thirty.

I walked out of my bedroom, and noted a gray sky, and the sound of rain falling on my newly planted window boxes.

Good for my flowers.

Bad for my Cubs’ game plans.

I reasoned with the Windy City that perhaps it could just finish up its drippy rain while I was swimming.

It disagreed.

A common theme between myself and Chicago weather.

Anyway, a couple hours later it still looks pretty dark out there, but I still have high hopes for a comeback.

For the weather, and for my Cubs.

Wish me luck, and have a good day!

And another season begins…

So, I grew up in New England without any real devotion to baseball (although if you made me choose, I’d have said Red Sox), and if you had asked me what football team I was into I would have picked the Miami Dolphins (my Dad’s pick) or the New York Giants (loved by my grandfather and a large handful of my cousins). But I wasn’t die hard about sports, except maybe my travel soccer team.

Give me a break–CT doesn’t have any professional sports (and yes, I am ignoring the Hartford Whalers of the pas here), so it’s hard to affix yourself somewhere and really stick with it. At least it was for me. In the early 90s.

Then when I was fifteen and relocated to MI, I was too angsty and dramatic to really care about sports. I was wholly uninterested.

And now, here I am. In Chicago, there’s really no way to avoid sports unless you:

a) Live under a rock
b) Really, really don’t care at all about athletics, parties, social activities of any kind, or drinking. These things are all related here in the Windy City.

So, I did what any city devotee would do, and I became an obsessed fan. The kind my mom tries to console every Sunday when the Bears don’t do what I want them to do. Which is win.

My mom doesn’t love sports the way I love sports. It’s okay.

In any case, inevitably every September I roll into a melancholy mood over the downfall of the Cubs’, which is aggravated this year by the fact that they won’t even make the playoffs.

I don’t know what I expect from a team that hasn’t won a World Series since the year Lyndon B. Johnson was born.

But we’re gonna do it one of these years.

However, every September also produces a glimmer of hope. It looks like this:

Rarrrrr!

The above image sparks football season, which always ramps me up. Football season accepts my loud, obnoxious game time behavior far more frequently than baseball does. Plus, I’ve never been to a Bears’ game, so the public is less apt to see my couch jumping, play screaming, I’ve-just-blacked-out-from-adrenaline-and-done-a-Bears-victory-dance ways.

I can’t help it. I get excited.

But then, Sunday night, this is what happened:

There was this:

Game 1: Wrist Injury

And then there was this:

I know how you feel Cutler.

So I remained dejected for around 24 hours, before bucking up, visiting Wrigley Field for a quick goodbye on the season (and not a bad personal send off with a D. Lee home run and a W!) and deciding that there are still several months of football and that I better get my act together.

And I’m a Chicago fan, so it’s my job to remain (at times unwisely) optimistic.

Count me back in. It’s football season!