Holy s*_t!!! I'm a home owner!

This morning I was a renter... now, I'm a homeowner! (Well, a condo owner). So, the process has lead itself here... to 1653 N. Fairfield. An adorable little condo conversion that holds a bunch of little treasures... Namely ME! I've posted a few photos to tide y'all over. I plan on having an "open house" get together at a later date.


This is the "front door." The space is an english basement, which is just a fancy way of stating that it's a garden apartment with full size windows instead of those half windows that a lot of garden units have... you can see the 3 steps down into my living room in this photo.















This is my new kitchen... I know, I really don't deserve it cause I don't cook but these German appliances are amazing (or so I hear) so I'm gonna have to start!












The bathroom... it has the coolest tub stopper I've ever seen! Is that weird?















And the living room... a curved wall leading to my bedroom... and just enough space for me to do my "designer thing!"







So, that's my news! Yeah!

My new Shanty!

New Year's 2005... I gave up the sacrificing chocolate and diet coke years ago and decided that a new year's resolution should be to better myself. In that spirit, this year, I resolved to better my circumstance...

Get a new job. SUCCESS! The new gig... act, action, affair, assignment, bit, business, charge, chore, commission, deed, duty, effort, enterprise, mission, office, operation, project, pursuit, responsibility, role, stint, task, undertaking, venture, or work... has been wonderful! The people in this very loft-like, exposed beam, sunlight filled office are pleasant, non-catty, non-competitive, hard working, nice people. They all realize that our job is not to cure cancer but to make the world a little more interesting to look at and a lot more functional. That's all... it ain't rocket science! They don't subscribe to the idea that our clients make the schedules. They are realistic in recognizing that this is a job... and then we go home to our dad's, room mates, friends, dogs etc.. Life outside of work is why we work... They get that! I'm happy. On top of the joy of little pressure, I am finally able to express my creativity, my way, with no rules, no design dictator breathing down my neck and no feeling of creative oppression. It's lovely!

Resolution #2 was to own. No more renting. No more paying $$ to slum lords who don't lift a finger when the sewer backs up in the basement and ruins my personal property. So... in July, I started looking. At first I was excited! The thought of walking into a space and just "feeling" like it's the one. Picturing my furniture (the new stuff in my head that I will never be able to afford... ahhh... it's nice to dream), my artwork, my dog, my silly morning routine in a new space, was fun! But...by early October, I'd almost abandoned the idea when the sheer magnitude of spending almost 200K on an 800 SF space totally FREAKED me out! And then I started learning about the closing costs... HOW DO PEOPLE DO THIS? It's unbelievable... I gotta pay $9.00 for a flood certificate... WHAT? Does that $9.00 do anything if my place actually floods? NO! As soon as I relegated myself to the idea that I would have to wait until spring, thus failing on my New Year's Resolution 2005... a rainbow appeared... Atlantis, apparition, bubble, bugbear, chimera, daydream, delusion, fairyland, fantasia, figment, hallucination, illusion, mirage, utopia, vision... Xanadu... well, not actually, I found (2) condos in my neighborhood, in my price range! WOO-HOO!!!

So, after getting a few opinions, negotiatiating and finalizing the funding... I am now the proud owner of a condo in Chicago. (Well, I close on December 1st). Yes folks, I have a new shanty... Jenny's very own abode, a new address, no more apartment, my very own asylum, not quite a bungalow, cabin or castle, about the size of a cave, far from a cottage, closer to a crash pad, definately new digs, domicile a'la Jenny, not a dump, my lovely dwelling, hangout, haunt, hideout, homestead, hut, joint, manor, mansion, nest, pad, palace, place, residence, resort, roost, shelter, turf and villa! Yeah me!

So... anyone with boxes that I can borrow or have... let me know! I gotta get rid of a ton of stuff to fit in this adorable shoebox... I'm thinking yard sale in the spring... I'll store it until then! And yes, Laura's coming with me!

On to 2006!

Poop wars and nice co-workers... unrelated topics!

OK... so, I'm having an issue with dog owning tenants in my building. As the title of this Blog may have lead you to assume, these issues stem from dog feces. I know, I know... not a pretty thing to discuss however, I truly believe that sharing this with y'all will help me resolve some deep seeded doggy pooh issues... Thank you in advance! (I'm a liar... I'm just uncreative when it comes to writing and this is the only topic I can think of today so... you benefit)!

Here's the deal. There are 4 dog owners in my building.

Me - Dingo the wonder dog's mom and a very loving dog owner but not necessarily one deserving the most responsible award.
Carol - Beck's mom, a landscape architect and a relatively responsible dog owner.
Eli - mother of two (Shiksa and Bailey), 21, tattooed (more than me), fire red hair (at least that's what color it is today), musician, creative, brash, fun and... not what most people would call a responsible dog owner.
Christine - new doggy mom to Griffin the beagle, smart and nice but when it comes to her new puppy... anal, over protective, over educated with the dog books which equates to common sense retarded and easily agitated.

Now that you've met the cast of characters, can you guess who's having the problem?

Now, I must admit that I've not always been the solution to the problem but over the last few months I've been religious about picking up after my dog. Miss Eli moved in a month ago and we've all noticed a decline in the progress since the arrival of her fiery hair, matching fiery attitude and sweet mutts. We've all mentioned the issue to her... I've noticed improvement... but there is still drama!

The first attempted solution (retaliation) by a dog owning neighbor was to pick up a bundle of joy and place it directly in front of the side door that's used by 6 different apartments (only 2 of which house the canine species) with a post it note on the door saying "Pick up Shiksa's poop... it's gross". This brilliant idea was instituted on the windiest day of the year so the post it note blew off and guess who stepped in the strategically placed pile of dung... yup, you guessed it... me! Oh it gets better... this happened twice! And neither time did it occur to the "lesson teacher" that the intended pupil (who works nights) may not be the one who learns the lesson!

And now, the more anal of my precious neighbors wants to call the cops because of this situation. All I have to say to that is Tghhhhghhghhhhghhhttt.

Calling the cops is going to do nothing!
1. It's private property and all they'll do is notify landlord Ed who will just cause problems for us all. He's an ass and has been conveniently absent lately... why mess with heaven?
2. They're not going to take the time to DNA test doggie shit to verify which dog owner is responsible... and with my luck, if they do, I'll have missed Dingo's lastest gift to me and get fined for some godly amount of money equal to the yearly vet visit which is coming up in December, Dingo will get sick and die all because someone thought it would be a good idea to call the cops.
3. We're supposed to be friends... that's the greatest thing about my building... we all get along, we all look out for eachother and we all care. Why would you call the cops on a friend?

So, on one hand, I hate picking up after other people's dogs... I hate picking up after mine... but I do it! I understand the frustration. Really, I do. But at some point, someone's got to be a little flexible. One has to get better and the other has to lighten up! Oy, I tell ya... being mother hen SUCKS!

In other news... it's Friday and I've successfully completed the first week at my new job. I tell ya... I'm not used to smiling-happy-faces-all-the-time! I actually had to ask someone if the entire office was putting on a show for me or something... it's almost... creepy... in a good way.

Lastly, still condo shopping. I'm getting discouraged but I WILL PREVAIL (someday).

OK... that's all for today. It's been my pleasure entertaining you!

The final stretch

I just thought I'd share with some of you a few e-mails I've received over the past few days that pertain to my new adventures... Who am I kidding... dad, you'll love these!

I sent the following e-mail to all of my Amica team members to let them know that I'm leaving IA and that Denise, a fellow designer and friend, will be taking over.

Amica Team,

If you have not already been made aware, I will be leaving IA Interior Architects to pursue other opportunities on September 28th. I have truly enjoyed working with each of you on the Amica account over the past (almost) 4 years and hope that our paths will cross again. In my absence, Denise Makar will be your new Amica project designer. Working with R. J. Brennan, she will be your main point of contact for all of the project issues and coordination that you're used to chatting with me on. Denise and I have spent much time over the past week reviewing current projects, processes, status, past projects and lessons learned so she can be as prepared as possible. Please feel confident with my replacement! Denise is a great designer, organized leader and all around nice person. She has been with IA for over 3 years, is highly experienced and extremely capable of leading the Amica projects down the proper paths. Please be patient with her as she wraps her arms around this crazy process that we've all learned to love. Her contact information is below. (You don't need all the details).

Thank you all so much! The Amica projects have been an incredibly rewarding experience for me and I will miss you all!

To which RJ, my friend, project director and "banter buddy" responds...
Are you doing anything for lunch tomorrow?

Me - Going out with you?

RJ - That was the intent though one could view this as a question of mere casual curiosity, if one likes. Where else are you going to get this kind of acerbic wit?

Me - I do not expect to find acidulous, biting, piquant, pungent, sharp, tart or even vinegary wit anywhere else... You'll have to harass me with e-mails so that I don't loose my edge!

And RJ laughs... out loud... uncontrollably... disturbing the whole office... and I get in trouble for being a menace... to which I respond... I'm leaving in 2 days! Deal with it! (all in a joking manner of course).

RJ - "Sardonic wit" was the phrase for which I was searching. You see how this is affecting me??! Do you really thing that Denise will become ensconced in our daily repartee, returning quip for quip?

Me - Hmmm.. the concept is doubtful... but if anyone can teach her the art of contemptuous repartee and wordplay, you can!

Another giggle from across the office.

And there's more!

A Contractor friend who's been steadily trying to luer me out to Petaluma California for the past 4 months responds simply:
Wait a minute... I asked first. Danny

A Client:
I have truly enjoyed working with you and wish you success in your new pursuits. I will miss you. Sharon

A Rep:
Congratulations on your new adventure! I hope that we will have to opportunity to work together in the future! Keep in touch. Kim

A Manufacturer:
You sure you don't want to move to Ohio and work with me? DeAnna

A Co-worker:
Do I have to be mad at you? You can't leave me! Congratulations! Give the nosy pregnant woman the details honey!

An old co-worker, in response to my request for luck:
You don't need luck wishes from me or anyone else. Advance as you always have, with your thoughtful consideration, open ears, open mind, fairness and respect. Go show them how to do it right! All the best, Dale.

And then there are the plethura of emails that read... I hope to run into ya down the road! Good Luck! Brat, how dare you leave me! etc. etc.

I will miss some things about this place... but the people will remain...oh well, on to bigger and better!

I know, I know... you all miss the wonderful words of Jenny!

OK... there are 5 of you that actually read this blog and I'm sad and ashamed that I've ignored you this long. I have no excuse but, I do have news!!!

I'm buying a condo (please hum this to the the Na-na-na-na-na tune that we all used as children... it's fun)! Yes, it's true. On Friday, I hope to sign a contract on one of those yuppie condos in the city of Chicago! It's an old warehouse building located on the edge of Humboldt Park and Logan Square.

In case you're curious... it's got 2 bedrooms, 13'-6" ceilings, a north facing balcony, in-unit washer/dryer, double sink bathroom, jacuzzi tub, granite counter tops, huge windows and hardwood floors... It's my dream... wish me luck! If I get it, I'll close on 12.15 (leave it to a chick to move in the winter). And yes, Miss Laura plans on coming with me for a while! I'll keep you posted!

In other news, I have resigned from IA Interior Architects (or will tomorrow) and accepted a new position with Eckenhoff Saunders Architects (ESA). It's an architecture firm that has created some of the most innovative healthcare facilities in Illinois over the past 30 years. They are looking to start an interiors side to the firm that focuses not only on healthcare but on corporate interiors as well... enter Jenny! So, I get to be part of starting something, helping people and working with architects to design BUILDINGS from the inside-out... Wish me luck again!

So... Condo + New Job = the inability to view fabulously wonderful animal photos of beagles, donkeys and the like / the unawaredness of the supersweet bowling shirt saga / blissful days in which I was uninformed as to the new title of the "Mike Hates Greg" blog page, a title that I cannot publish because I refuse allow my father to read the words "EgoCock."

That's it!

I decided something today…

I’m starting a commune…
It will be a happy commune…
Only family and friends allowed…
We will be hippies and live in harmony…
Somewhere in… say… New Mexico…
No that won’t work…
It will be an urban commune…
In the heart of Chicago…
On a big plot of land…
With a ton of mobile homes…

Not this kind of mobile home…

This kind of mobile home!!!

Light the Night!!!

Hi all,

We've probably all been touched by cancer. This past spring, my best friend's aunt, Mary Margaret Barry-Peabody, passed away after battling Leukemia for almost 4 years. I was lucky enough to be touched by Mary's charm and wit throughout my life. On September 24th, I will be participating in the "Light the Night Walk" for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, which will be held at Lincoln Park Zoo. I will be walking in Mary's memory and in memory of my mother, Joan P. Rieck who passed from cancer in November of 1990.

The Light the Night Walk is the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's nationwide walk to raise awareness of blood cancers and funds for cures. The need for cures is critical: Every five minutes, someone is diagnosed with blood cancer. Every ten minutes, someone dies. Leukemia is the leading cause of cancer death among children and young adults under the age of 20. Participants in the walk carry illuminated balloons to celebrate and commemorate lives touched by cancer. Proceeds from the walk will be used for research to find cures for blood cancers - Leukemia, Lymphoma and myeloma - and improve the quality of life for patients and their families.

I encourage you to become involved in this worthwhile endeavor, and to give yourself the experience of helping others. If you wish to walk and help raise funds for this cause, please visit the Light the Night Walk website: www.lightthenight.org. Or, if you wish to support my fund raising efforts, please visit my fund raising page: www.active.com/donate/ltnChicag/ltnRieck1 and donate.

Thank you for your time.
Love and hugs to all!

Gunter glieben glauten globen!

Let’s discuss my weekend…

Specifically, let’s discuss the highlight of my weekend… The Def Leppard concert.

To my friends who read this that were invited (through a bulk e-mail) and chose to do something lame and un-exciting, Thhphggghbbt.



(That’s me sticking my tongue out and making that obnoxious spitting sound so that you can get the full effect of my disgust.)

You missed a super fun time and you’re all losers… especially, two boys, who will remain nameless, who obsessed over Def Leppard freshman year in high school… Yeah, you know who you are (Chris and Mike). Anyway, I am a kind and generous person and will share the highlights of my experience, to the best of my abilities!

The “Rock of Ages” tour… Here are the facts…

Alexian Stadium in Schaumburg.
Free Parking and Shuttle bus.
Arm bands once you’re carded.
Super long lines for beer.
Longer lines for the port-o-potties.
Def Leppard takes the stage at 7:10pm
Sold out concert.
Two hour set.
They sounded AWESOME!
You get 3 guesses as to the finale… the first 2 don’t count.

Then, Brian Adams took the stage. I know, I know… I’m just as confused as you are! Why Brian Adams in the first place, let alone as the headliner. Here’s the deal… according to the website, they’re switching who opens at every tour city. I guess it’s fair but what an interesting combination. First you’re in the throws of ARMAGEDDON IT, and then you are subjected to that stupid song from that Robin Hood movie… you know the one… Everything I do, I do it for… puke.

Now that you have the basics, here’s the ambiance…

Georgous weather, 80’s with a breeze.
Beautiful Sunset, just behind the stands.
Sittin’ on a hill in right field with friends.
Listening to memories.
Watching 50 Bazillion people who are still stuck in 1987 when Hysteria was released!

I’m not kidding! The Aqua Net in that stadium was unbelievable. The torn jeans folded at the ankles were everywhere. White trash littered the baseball field. Lighters were raised inappropriately, white men were dancing the “white man’s overbite.” Arms were pumping in the air… it was wonderful.

And Jenny Smiled.

My 5th grade math teacher would be proud!

I have never been good with numbers. This may explain why...

The Evolution of teaching Math

Teaching Math In 1950
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price. What is his profit?

Teaching Math In 1960
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price, or $80. What is his profit?

Teaching Math In 1970
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80. Did he make a profit?

Teaching Math In 1980
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80 and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.

Teaching Math In 1990
A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of $20. What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers.)

Teaching Math In 2005
Un hachero vende una carretada de maderapara $100. El costo de la producción es $80 ...

And we wonder why this world is in so much trouble.

Down South where they say y’all...

So… I had a lovely weekend sharing quality time with the fam, in Southern Illinois. Just to be clear… this is really Southern Illinois. I know many people that think anywhere south of Chicago city limits is Southern Illinois… Not true. Southern Illinois doesn’t truly begin until about 30 miles South of Champaign-Urbana in a little town called Arcola, population 2,652. Why do I believe this? Because starting in Arcola, people name their children things like Billy Bob and Peggy Jean… At lease those were the names of the two newlyweds that were being congratulated on the billboard of the local gas station. It’s also South of Arcola that you will find towns like Ina (population 2,455), Dix, Centralia, Pesotum, Neoga (which, as some will remember, is pronounced Neooooga, with a grunt) and Cairo (pronounced Caro… like the sugary sweet white maple syrup.)

Now, I went to school in Carbondale, so, I should be used to that drive, right? WRONG… it’s 5.5 hours from Chicago to Carbondale… I hit mile marker 300 (just north of “Chambana”) and almost died realizing that I had to go to mile #59. I survived however, it will be some time before I do that alone again. Anyway, I love my family. Dad, Stacy, John (her fiancé), Aunt Erdine and I spend the entire weekend playing cards and shootin’ the shit and I even enjoyed having Stacy’s little nose breathing pugs there… we bonded.

OK… that’s not the reason for this post. I understand that the masses are truly concerned about who won the most Euchre games (Dad and Aunt Erdine I think) or who had the most impressive hearts win (Stacy… the little brat defeated me 67 to 200… I shot the moon twice and still came in dead last! Damn!)

No, no, no… the purpose of this post is to discuss my almamater. Southern Illinois University at Carbondale also known as SIU. The home of the Salukis and what is supposed to be considered my glory days. Stacy, John and I took a “day trip” into Carbondale. I was excited to see the old stompin’ ground… really. I remembered a certain energy that you only find in a college town. Guess what we found… disappointment all around! The place was filthy and more red-neck than I remembered! It was a ghost town! There were no drunk college kids, there were no sun bathers in the fields, there were no students hanging out on campus, there was nothing. The place was dead! I realize it’s July, but, typically there are these things called summer classes that are designed, in part to populate the area. I also realize that we were there on Saturday afternoon but, still, in my vast experience of summer living in Carbondale, I expected to see college kids having fun! Nope.

Here’s the kicker. We decided to go back into the college town for a few drinks in the evening so that John could experience the Nightlife. We walked in to Stix at around 8:30 pm to find 5 people playing pool. I understand that 8:30 is early for college kids, but why, oh Lord in Heaven, why, were there still only about 20 people in the entire bar when we left at midnight? Unbelievable! And even worse… walking out onto the strip was just disappointing… no drunkin’ brawls, no one was puking, there were no rowdy guys cat-calling any scantily clad college girls that look to be 12. IT WAS QUIET, PEOPLE!!! THAT’S WRONG!

Then… I heard a little bell… ahhh… music to my ears… It’s Winston the Bagel Man. And suddenly, Carbondale is a fabulous place again!

80's Mania!!!

Oh my gosh!!! I was just given the gift that keeps on giving! One of my rep friends, in the spirit of friendship and the 80's gave me... prepare yourself... this is totally radical... I mean Crazy to the max, man...

A RUBIK'S CUBE!

Now, you all know how easily amused I am right?! Now imagine my excitement when he invited me to a 80's party complete with TWISTER?! Oh yeah folks... I'll be playing twister and dressing the part of the 80's chick next week with other designer friends... gosh, do I have any AquaNet? How cool is that!

Go on... be jealous!

Now imagine that same person, who's already brought such joy to my day, next offers me tickets to today's Cubs game (Cubs v. Pirates), which I have to turn down because 1.) I don't have anyone to go with me and 2.) I'm road trippin' it down south!!! Much dissappointment but... What a guy that Hunter is... Thanks Hunter!

Cheers!

The largest muscle in the body is Gluteus Maximus... Yes folks, that's the butt... the derriere, tush, behind, bottom, rear or, my favorite, aft extremity. But the most important muscle in the body is the heart.

From the moment it begins beating until the moment it stops, the human heart works tirelessly, beating an average of 72 times per minute... that's more than two and a half billion times in an average lifetime, without ever pausing to rest. It's no wonder that we use the "heart" in so many daily phrases. Verbiage used to describe a feeling, an experience, a desire, a promise, an emotion, a description or a place.

A heart of gold,
A heart of stone,
A heart throb (like Shawn Cassidy in the early eighties... yum),
A heart to heart talk,
A heart-warming experience,
After your own heart,
Change of heart,
Cold hands warm heart,
Cross my heart and hope to die,
Cry your heart out (been there, done that!),
Have a heart,
Wearing your heart on your sleeve,
Heart and soul (great song),
Heart wrenching,
Heart warming,
Heartbreak Hotel (Elvis IS the King),
Home is where the heart is,
In my heart of hearts,
Know by heart,
Lose your heart,
Melt the heart,
Near and dear to my heart,
Open your heart,
Serious as a heart-attack,
Set your heart on something,
Sob your heart out,
Steal someone's heart,
The heart has its reasons,
The way to a man's heart is through his stomach,
Warms the cockles of my heart,
What becomes of the broken-hearted,
With a hearty hiho Silver,
Young at heart.

While the phrases listed above are appropriate, the most commonly used phrase that includes this human body part is "broken hearted." I have often wondered where this term came from. When, in history, did we begin equating love and feelings with this, the most important body part? In researching this "phenomenon," I did not find definitiveve answer but... I have found that the heart, as a euphemism has been used by Chinese philosophers as early as 370 - 300 BC.

"A Great man is he who does not lose his childlike heart." - Mencius (Mengzi Meng-tse).

Similarly, the heart as a descriptor, has been used in the Bible.

"The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, while the heart of the fool is in the house of entertainment." - Bible. Sacred Scriptures of Christians and Judaism

"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it?" - Bible. Sacred Scriptures of Christians and Judaism

And, as I suspected, the heart being equated to love has been used by Poets.

"Whether you call my heart affectionate, or you call it womanish: I confess, that to my misfortune, it is soft." - Ovid BC 43-18 AD Roman Poet

After learning this, I started to wonder where and when the modern shape of the heart begin? I found this:

"There are a few ancient symbols that recur through the ages. One of these symbols - the heart - means many things to many people. Just how did the stylized heart shape become the icon for love and the human soul? Let's work our way back in history:

The heart symbol as we know it today, was popularized in the Victorian era over a hundred years ago. They loved the romantic heart shape and embellished it in many ways; but they didn't invent it. Where did it come from?

Getting closer to the source, the Egyptian ab, or "heart soul", apparently bears a remarkable resemblance to the stained glass Christian iconographs. The story of the ab was that one of the Egyptian's seven souls came directly from the mother's heart, in the form of holy lunar blood and would descend to the womb and take the shape of her child. The Catholic church claims that the symbol of the heart (Sacred Heart) began when Saint Margaret Marie Alacoque had a vision in the late 17th century. She saw a heart shape surrounded by a crown of thorns.
There is evidence that it is still older. Centuries earlier than Saint Alacoque, the heart symbol was incorporated in a number of stained glass windows and cloister decorations. Basically, the heart symbol, in Christian iconography was a stand in for the soul of Jesus. The Centurion who pierced Jesus' heart at the crucifixion with a lance was the first reference to the sacred heart in the scriptures - John 19:34

The most intriguing explanation for the heart symbol is linked to erotic love - and lies within the ruins of a classical city in North Africa. In the 7th century BC, in the city-state of Cyrene, there was a valuable plant called Silphium. The commercial trade of this now extinct species of fennel made Cyrene one of the richest cities in Africa until the founding of Alexandria. We are only now coming to understand why the Silphium plant was so highly valued that it was harvested to extinction. Silphium grew only in the small, upland, ecological zones surrounding the city of Cyrene in North Africa. Trade based on this now extinct species of Giant Fennel was of great commercial importance to Cyrene. Just what was so special about this plant?

Silphium has left its mark in modern society in a way that has not previously been recognized. Have you ever wondered why the human heart - the repository and the embodiment of romantic love - is always drawn stylized instead of in the natural shape of the human heart organ? The answer is rooted in the ancient function of Silphium! And the connection between this artistic convention and Silphium is found in the coinage of Cyrene, which features a seed pod of the revered plant."

Huh... Chinese philosophers and a plant seem to have brought us to the "heart of the matter." Who'd-a-thunk?

Lastly, in my research, as un-scientific as it may be (thanks to Google), I have uncovered that there is actually a Broken Heart Martini. Yup... we've taken our collective devastation into the bottle.

I'll be perfecting this recipe over the next few weeks. Cheers!

31 And Loving It!

So, I haven't blogged in a while. My apologies to those who have been waiting for me to get my act together (Daddy).

I could say that I've been busy, and while this is a true statement, it's not entirely accurate. Yes, I have been traveling for work... Canada 3 times in the last 4 weeks (Toronto is beautiful). But the truth is that I've been trying to wrap my head around the inevitable appearance of my 31st birthday. Yes, I turned 31 on June 5th. No, it was not traumatic. No, I didn't cry. And, no, I will not be one of those women who lie about their age and stall the clock at my 29th year. I did however, have to do the math (which is quite amazing given that numbers make me nauseous). So... I apologize if this seems a little "rent-ish"... feel free to correct my math if necessary.

31 years = 1,612 weeks
31 years = 11,315 days
31 years = 271,560 hours
31 years = 16,293,600 minutes

I thought about those numbers for a while and realized a few things. Of the 16+ million moments that I've lived this life, I have been on vacation for about 35 weeks, I have been in school for about 2,600 days, I have been at work for about 20,800 hours and I have smiled for at least 14 million minutes. Most importantly, I have loved and been loved for every single one of the 16 million + moments of my life. There is a phrase that I've been saying for years and years... most recently made popular by a certain "movie" "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is to love and be loved in return."

I now feel it necessary to throw out into cyber space a few "shout-outs" to those who have graced a large portion of my 31 years...

- Daddy, I thank you, for teaching me everything I know. I learned how to love because you and mom loved so generously, easily, honestly and truly.

- Stacy, from you I learned that loving is hard work but the rewards are sooooo great. You are the best sister I could possibly hope for. Thank you for loving me... I'll miss you, you Cincinnati bound diva, you!

- Katy, I will never truly be able to articulate how much you mean to me. My life is better because you're in it and there is a certain safety in our friendship that allows me to live my life knowing that you'll be there loving me and giving me shit no matter what I do... I love you for that!

- Girlfriends, I thank you for allowing me to love you and learn from you. My mom told me when I was young that girlfriends were the most important friends you could have. I receive cheesy e-mails daily about the importance of girlfriends and I believe all of that crap to be true! I had the pleasure of joining girl power forces with the wonder quad a few weeks ago! This foursome of fantastic women included Mrs. Ann Hermes-Tudor, Mrs. Gina Witt, Mrs. Lindsay Wookie (Bigler) and Ms. Briton Pyne. Thank you ladies for sharing your thoughts, opinions, strengths, weaknesses, passions, disappointments and hearts with me. (Hey, Laura...warm and fuzzy girl love goes to you too... you have been a blessing as a friend and a roommate.)

- Boys, Ed, Brandon, Greg, Cameron, Mike, Chris, Jason, Jac and Whitey, like it or not, you will forever be "my boys." I thank you for your hugs.

So, I'm 31 and I love it. That's only a surprise because I'm not exactly where I thought I'd be at 31. I thought that I'd be married with a kid or two by now. I thought that I'd have a great house and a successful career and a lot of things that reminded me of the place in society that I'd earned. Instead, I'm single, in a new relationship, renting an apartment, leasing a car, still defining my career and happy! It's funny, when we're young we dream about big houses, marriage, family, success and careers, but never do we dream about the people that will help us get there. Never do we dream about the types of relationships we'll have or the friends we'll make along the way. I could have never dreamed up this life... but I'm sure glad that if found me.

OK... enough of that mushy stuff... I have one question...
What's the deal with men in suits wearing tennis shoes? I understand the ladies perspective, I mean, come on, heels and pointy toes, who wants to walk around in that all day? But gentlemen, can you explain how the flat loafers are just too much to bare?

Courtyard Bliss

Have you ever stood in your court yard and listened to a chorus of laughter fall from the windows of your neighbors? I have.

Friday night, around 11:30, I was standing in my concrete jungle, so that the Dingo dog could do his "before-bed-business," when I heard familiar giggles from the lit windows above.

First, there was the chuckle of a certain long haired frat boy that lives on the 3rd floor. Then the belly laugh of the one and only "Chocolate Danny" on floor 2. Next was the Fran Drescher-like chortle of my dear room mate. Followed by the shriek of our neighbor-down-da-street, Greg.
Back up to the 3rd floor where the visiting Billy let out a little tehee. Then to floor 2 where roomies Ed and Mike cackled in unison. Then, as if the center section of the building woke up, Mike # 2 (1st floor in the middle) began laughing at his TV. Cooper, Hadley's dog (2nd floor in the middle) let out a yelp to which Hadley hushed him and then giggled at his invisible reaction. Back to my window where Laura and Greg were reveling in some sort of comment about something.

For about 15 minutes, I stood with my dog... smiling at the happiness of my friends... this is my life, my world... and I'm so glad they're all in it.

Alternate Word Art

I've decided that one of the coolest things on the planet is the Thesaurus.

It is a tool (apparatus, appliance, bucksaw, contraption, contrivance, dojigger, engine, gadget, gizmo, implement, job, machine, means, mechanism, utensil, weapon, whatchamacallit) a device, if you will, that allows one to elevate descriptions to a level verging on an art form. Seriously people... what's more interesting, "Congratulations (Mike and Abby) on the announcement of your pregnancy!" or "Ovations on the communique of your fruitfulness!" See... art.

I used the Thesaurus a lot in high school and college, when writing papers but forgot how much fun it was. Now, in the age of computers and the information super-highway, I have a thesaurus link saved to my favorites and I find myself using it daily to describe things like "ambiance" (atmosphere, aura, backdrop, background, circumstances, climate, conditions, context, domain, element, encompassment, entourage, habitat, hood, jungle, locale, medium, milieu, neighborhood, purlieus, scene, scenery, setting, situation, status, stomping ground, surroundings, terrain, territory, turf, zoo.) to my clients.

I have however, discovered that the thesaurus can also be used to vent! This prodigious form of therapy has resulted in turning sheer anger and frustaration into hilarity and merriment (amusement, cachinnation, cackle, chortle, chortling, chuckle, chuckling, crack-up, crow, crowing, fit, gesture, giggle, giggling, glee, guffaw, guffawing, har-de-har, howling, laugh, mirth, peal, rejoicing, roar, roaring, shout, shouting, shriek, snicker, snigger, snort, snorting, sound, tehee, titter, tittering, yuck), when used to secretly insult the kingpins in my office. It's funny how "Kiss my butt, you pompous twit" almost sounds like a compliment when alternating typical words used daily with words found in the Thesaurus... "Osculate my aft extremity, you magniloquent dolt!"

I have also found the Thesaurus to be educational and useful when playing on-line scrabble with cute boys that reside in Pittsburgh. Let's say you have letters r, x, h, a, t, n and q. You need a 4 letter word starting with a 't' to get to the triple word square. What do you do? Remembering that there is a funny little word, meaning "creek," that grandma once used in a scrabble battle past, you look to the thesaurus! Cheating? Well, maybe (sorry honey)! Sidenote: that very same funny little word (tarn) was published in the May edition of Hemispheres (United Airlines in flight magazine), in an article about the french countryside... interesting!

And, at that, I will end this blog with my favorite "alternative word art" to date... fun (absurdity, ball, big time, blast, buffoonery, celebration, cheer, clowning, distraction, diversion, enjoyment, entertainment, escapade, festivity, foolery, frolic, gaiety, gambol, game, good time, grins, high jinks, holiday, horseplay, jesting, jocularity, joke, joking, jollity, joy, junketing, laughter, merriment, merrymaking, mirth, nonsense, pastime, picnic, play, playfulness, pleasure, recreation, rejoicing, relaxation, riot, romp, romping, solace, sport, tomfoolery, treat, whoopee)!

The Great American Past Time

On Saturday, I , princess of art, musicals, fine dining and all things creative, joined 39,000 others to cheer, drink beer and sing "take me out to the ball game." The venue, Wrigley Field. The competitors, Cubs and Phillies. The weather, freezing!

Those who know me understand that I am not, nor have I ever been a fan of baseball, football, basketball, hockey or that sport where crazy people grease up little pigs and run around trying to catch them. I will admit that my lack of enjoyment for sports in general, has been due to the fact that I really don't grasp the rules or objectives... But I'm learning!

My first goal, to understand the most American of all past times, baseball, is coming along at a great pace (with a little help from other lovers of the game). And one trip to the ball park has given me a new found affinity for runs, outs, bases and the like.

There was something magical about entering the stadium and seeing the technicolor green of the field sprawled out in front of me.

There was something nostalgic about the smell of peanuts and beer. Stepping on the shells and sticking to the concrete.

There was something admirable about the "fan." Cheering and fighting and wanting so desperately to be part of the action.

There was something comforting about snuggling for warmth under an over-priced Cubs blanket with someone special.

There was something beautiful about staring across the space and seeing the team colors of the club you're rooting for... Dots creating a Seurat type backdrop to the action.

The noise, the anticipation and the sheer joy emanating from those around me placed me in the front row of a Broadway musical. The applause, cat calls and smiles (minus the profanity) reminded me of the curtain call.

I won't pretend to be a fan, as I still have a lot to learn. I will say that I am excited about the potential of joining the leagues of others who get excited when opening day rolls around. Maybe it will happen by the time the playoffs begin!

Dad said I should...

Well, for years my father, has been urging me to write... anything... A book, a movie, inspirational cards to trailer park trash so that they can feel special too! Today, I took the plunge. I'm certain that this blog is not the type of literary genius that my father had hoped for however, it is a start, and I am proud to join the leagues of others who litter cyberspace with their un-important, un-funny and un-interesting thoughts.

For my first entry, I will share with you (the hordes of nameless and faceless people staring balnkly into a computer screen) an e-mail that I wrote... to my dad... and his response, prompting me to finally start this "publication."

Hi daddy!

I try to send Neil an interesting observation every day. Mostly they're silly, like the older woman I noticed walking down the street with her ipod last week. She must have been 70, in her knee-hi's and house dress, hunched over from osteoporosis and years of living life. As she walked and listened to her music coming from the most recent electronic trend, I could only guess the tune that was making her smile and bop her head like a teenager. She made me smile that day.

Anyway... this is what I sent Neil today... I thought you would enjoy it as well.

So... today is a good day... partially because you will be here in Chicago the day-after-tomorrow... but also because it was the running of the sailboats day. Let me explain. My office window looks down 15 floors to the Chicago River, in all it's glory. There are several days at the beginning of every spring and toward the end of fall where they designate days that sailboats can go from the storage harbors, inland to the marinas on Lake Michigan. Today was one of those days.

The best part of the sailboat parade, aside from being amazed at the sheer quantity and beauty of these yachts, catamarans and sailboats, is the raising of the bridges. These steel and concrete structures rise and fall in this wonderfully choreographed dance, starting with Franklin Street, then Wacker, LaSalle and on and on. I stare in amazement, every year, at the complexity of these man made planes of metal and how they gracefully stand at attention as the vessels pass, as if to salute them and wish them well in the waters of the lake. To me it signifies spring, but more than that, it reminds me of what people are capable of. Being surrounded every day by a jungle of architecture, I forget, even as a designer, that towering buildings, bridges, elevated train tracks, parks and fountains are all creations that come from deep within people. Individuals and teams work to create these elements that make up the Chicago skyline that I so happily say good morning to on my way to work. Powerful stuff.

That's my observation for the day. Enjoy!

I love you, Dad!

And Dad's response....

Jenny... You are amazing. Your observations are not only enjoyable, they're literary and would grace the pages of any of our better magazines and/or dailies. You should present them as a possible column to some of the local "rags". Who knows my amazing daughtrer may be the next Kup, other gender! Love ya...DAD

I know, I know... daddies are supposed to think their daughters are wonderful. I won't let it go to my head!