Just a City Girl

nothing amiss here

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 21:45:00 +0000

nothing amiss here
Originally uploaded by levi mpls

Wonder why I'm not blogging? Too many nights hanging out I suppose. Living not writing. Although some nights... some nights I miss it. Those are the night I remember writing was how I used to live.

I'll be back. Until then keep an eye on the twitter. It's perfect for my ADD.

Wishing you bean bag wrestling, or the emotional equivalent...

Love love love,

K.

Thomas Street Community Garden in Humboldt Park

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 16:26:00 +0000

Thomas Street Community Garden in Humboldt Park
Originally uploaded by Metropolitan Planning Council

VOTE FOR ME:
http://www.placemakingchicago.com/places/vote-for-your-favorite-photo-2.asp

Scroll down and click the dot above Thomas Street Community Garden so we can win prizes for our space!

Spread the word and help my place be seen!

Love love love,

K.

I Hope They Find Buster :-(

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 18:56:00 +0000

I Hope They Find Buster :-(
Originally uploaded by JOE M500

I ran across this after my lovely long walk and errands during lunch today. This car was hit and the dog inside went out the window and now they can't find their pet pit bull Buster. I'm hoping all you Chicagoans can spread the word and keep a look out. Poor puppy. Poor young man wondering about his dog.

Tonight I will hug Penny just a little bit tighter as she jumps in her pen when I unlock the door, shoots out and scampers towards me with her legs bent close to the ground and her tail whipping at painful levels. She'll snort and have no idea how much I would be at a loss without her. Even as I'm noticing small short hairs covering the interior of the car, the couch and our bed. Even when she purposefully doesn't heed my calls to heel - I wouldn't trade her for the world. Ambassador Penny*, my little lovely lady.

Wishing you unconditional love from something warm and furry (if that suits you - fish are nice too)...

Love love love,

K.

*Penny graduated doggy training classes from The Barking Lot on Sunday. She has a wonderful diploma now. Upon saying our goodbyes to the staff, they thanked us for bringing such a wonderful dog to class to show people that Pit bulls aren't what they think they are. She was better behaved than 90% of the yellow labs in there and they called her "an Ambassador for the breed". Now it's official. She's an Ambassador indeed.

Oh How it Grows...

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 19:57:00 +0000

Recently I volunteered to write a quick summary of the garden I grow in for a movement called "Placemaking". With only 250 words, it was so hard to convey how happy I was to find this place. It really did add a piece of pie to my pan - as it were. Slowly I am stacking blocks of things I have always wanted in my life.

Often I wonder if it is because I have so much emptiness after leaving my brothers and others back in Minneapolis. But really, I think it is trying to bring some of the normalcy I had there to a new and bigger city. A city that doesn't open itself up easily to new citizens. Like most cities/towns/metros - it takes time to find the secret places that feel like they complete you.

This garden, however much I can't even find time to visit like I want, answers the call I had to have a space that was more than just a wooden back porch. Come visit me and I'll take you there. Call me and I'll get your hands dirty.

You can read my entry below:

Thomas Street Community Garden in Humboldt Park

With tens of thousands of people sharing space in one of the largest cities in the world – it seems impossible that anything so public could also feel personal. And yet a plot of land surrounded by rehabbed apartments offers rare commodities here in the City of Big Shoulders: tranquility & a sense of contribution.

At 2655 Thomas, there lies something more than just an urban respite. Transplants and native Chicagoans who yearn to see something grow, but have no space, can find their cravings fulfilled while fostering a place for all to enjoy. Through the years it has avoided development and instead the protected land has transformed from a scene of broken glass and garbage to a real honest to goodness getaway around the corner.

Carefully planted flowers and loved plants creep and grow under the shade of several trees lining this entire city plot. Walking in (the gate is always open) you pass through a rock and mortar circle that doubles as seating for those with weary feet. Herbs and vegetables grow in hand built raised beds on the sunny south end, cared for by those all too eager to show off various species of edibles scattered about in the soil should you catch them on a workday (usually mid morning on a weekend).

In this Humboldt Park place there really does bloom a sense of creation and care that is certifiably one of a kind in a city where one is a very lonely number.

TRANSIT:
The garden lies less than 2 blocks away from two major CTA bus lines: The 52 (running north/south on California, walk 1.25 blocks east down Thomas), and the 70 (running east/west on Division, walk south down Washtenaw 2 blocks and turn left). Residential Street Parking only. Strollers and bikes are welcome and their owners are asked to respect the surroundings when visiting.

For my readers who can't hop into a car, onto a bus, or onto their two-wheeled steeds, I also offer up the flickr group managed by our fearless garden leader: Rob K (last two photos below are taken by him).

(Photo Credit: Works Magazine)

(Workday in the garden. From left to right: Me, Fred, Robb, & ?)

Wishing you some place very special...

Love love love,

K.

Missing Al,

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 18:37:00 +0000

My fave..
Originally uploaded by pinkzilla

I found this picture today because there's another one of her on this day titled Madonna Arms. Apparently that got two hits via google images search today.

Looking at this photo reminds me of how warm and sunny it was over two years ago. We grabbed coffee at the Mayday Cafe and walked down to Powderhorn Park to sit under a huge tree.

Since then we have both cut our hair, moved (she bought a house in Minneapolis), adopted dogs, and have only seen each other twice. It always feels like I never left when we sit down and catch up. Between her, Cate, and Sarah (and all the others out there I didn't mention) I don't know how I've made it so long on my own.

Thankfully, there are wonderful ladies in Chicago as well. Not to be forgotten by any means. My mind keeps looking ahead, to the time where I will have known them for equally as long. There will come a time I won't want to say goodbye to them either. In fact, come September, one will be moving away. This realization that time has sprinted across this last year is hitting home. Not only did I manage to foster a friendship with Emily, but now I sadden thinking of her leaving.

Now I know how my Minneapolis friends felt when I was called to move out of the city to live and breathe other sights and sounds. It stinks. My apologies to you - and to myself because I miss you. Yes you.

I only wish this country wasn't so big - that the length of land and highways between us were smaller. I wouldn't have to worry about who was going to help me eat the cherry pie I made (pictures tomorrow I promise). But at least I know who will be using our soon to be acquired craigslist sleeper couch and the guest room. I'll keep a light on for you, Minneapolis girls.

Wishing you unexpected nostalgia and long reunions...

Love love love,

K.

Pinkzilla & Crash Handsome

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 18:01:00 +0000

Pinkzilla~
Originally uploaded by bluebike

During Tour de Fat I had an opportunity to meet a Chicagoan I only knew via flickr: bluebike. It really was only a matter of time with all the bike culture events here in the city. What's wonderful about this "interwebs meets real life" occasion is she happened to snap a picture of Joel and I literally right before I introduced myself. I happen to love this shot.

This split second in time - where I knew who she was - but she thought I was about to scold her. I never could. She takes beautiful shots of this city. It makes me scold myself when thinking about getting a nice SLR camera now that I have my four essential bikes practically built up:

Winter: Miyata (thanks to Pete)
Fixed Gear: Windsor (thanks to mplsminx)
Heavy Pretty Hauler: Carabela (thanks to badger)
Fast Roadie: Battaglin (the only one never before owned by one of my friends!)

Until I find time to fit that in with the three or four languages, yoga, college credits, financial investing, obsessions that come up - I'll live vicariously through her lens. She captures it leaps and bounds better than I have the attention to.

Wishing you meetings that take you away from the computer screen...

Love love love,

K.

Baby Boom of Endangered Species

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 17:44:00 +0000

Baby Boom of Endangered Species
Originally uploaded by Smithsonian's National Zoo

After a wonderful bike-packed weekend where I entirely forgot to tweet (OMG what will happen NOW!) or take my camera out of its case during the Tour de Fat Saturday and doggy daycare, farmer's market, bike building of Sunday, I am happy to feel settled once again. And entirely in love with all the postings from the Smithsonian National Zoo.

It's a good day when an endangered species get a cute little diversification of its gene pool.

Wishing you a Monday appreciated after a weekend well spent...

Love love love,

K.

That Time Again

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 21:29:00 +0000

Ah yes. July. Hot hot ... er ... cold, camp July. I would swear it was May or even April if I wasn't obsessively watching the Tour de France (like last year, and the year before, and the year before: http://justacitygirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/le-tour.html). It seems so long ago that I started discussing it with Sarah and rooting for people later banned for doping.

Today one of those who I rooted for on Bastille day 2004 won a stage again. I swear it's like watching a kid grow up and mature and become a better person. I have such a soft spot in my heart for Voekler. I think it was his tiny biker butt, out of the saddle, trying to hold onto his yellow jersey in the mountain stages and just not being a good enough climber.

Fingers crossed he's made his peace with the burn and can rip up those passes now that 5 years have passed.

Wishing you nerdy sporting hopes and prayers...

Love love love,

K.

Clouded Leopard Cubs are 12 weeks old!

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 14:40:00 +0000

Clouded Leopard Cubs are 12 weeks old!
Originally uploaded by Smithsonian's National Zoo

Seriously. If you have a Flickr, you should be adding the Smithsonian Zoo as a contact. Best part of the day today so far.

And for the record, today a fully grown up 29 year old, annoyed, heavy legged, wet Kim rode to work. My youth must have slept in. Or it's at home playing with Penny.

It seems fitting that I'm listening to the Beach Boys "I want to go home" right now. Sleep. Sleep would be good.

Wishing you a lovely day even if you're tired. It seems we all are...

Love love love,

K.

Singing in the Rain!

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 13:56:00 +0000

It's amazing what just a few or 17 degrees will do to a commute. Life has been so full of lovely timess with friends, the Mulder Family, drives and days with 3.5 year olds who refuse to say thank you and repeat all you say instead (until they really want it and miraculously remember what the "magic word" is), and hours upon hours of dog trainings/walking/feedings, that those 30 minutes early in the morning and right after work have fallen to the wayside of my memory bank. Several weeks ago all I could remember was how cold and wet the mornings were:

On one hand because I am rushing to or fro, I focus less on the annoyances of helmetless, mp3 wearing "squirrels" sharing the bike lanes or the cars that don't want me there and instead press on towards my destination with no time to lose.

Except for a precious few lovely days when Joel has met me and we bike together, joking under the sunshine - that rare rare sunshine as of late.

Or yesterday.

Yesterday the heavens opened up, as the term so aptly states. The city grew loud with cars and sirens and the palpable fear of pedestrians running for cover while sheets of rain came at them from all directions. There must have been something in that energy and in the air surrounding those drops because I lost about 20 years in 20 seconds. Suddenly I reverted to the stormy summer days in Missoula and being yelled at by motorists for playing in intersection puddles (they were the size of lakes I tell you!) In all of those moments, where I saw not one other cyclist once I left downtown, I shared the road nicely with the cars and made my way with renewed memory of why I love biking instead of mass transit or driving.

Out of my mouth came songs about rain, songs by Mariah Carey, songs substituting Penny instead of "Honey" (awwww sugar sugar. You know the one right?) Meanwhile I laughingly sprinted through puddles; covered my shoes and knee high socks with grit and sand. I reminded mother earth (out loud) that she owed me a tailwind from my morning torture down Milwaukee Avenue and finally got in in the last push homeward.

If every day could be that joyful and make me happy to be the crazy lady who talks about the joy of feeling like a kid again - I would never again have a problem with this city and it's snail pace at progressiveness.

For now - I've got my fix. Let's hope it sticks around for a while.

Wishing you all the best whatever your forecast calls for...

Love love love,

K.

Happy Earth Day

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 21:42:00 +0000

Originally uploaded by pinkzilla

I just exhaled a heavy heart-ed sigh thinking about my failure to take a picture for the last week. With all good intentions I will continue the rest of the spring season to capture a new city during my favorite part of the year. I love watching the rain clouds hover over the Chicago skyline and obscure the tallest buildings around only to see a sunshine filled daffodil the next day.

I love even thinking "oh there's another bulb coming up, I've seen those all over". How remarkable it is to look at these living green plants awaking from the soil. So what if the soil is toxic? That's why I have a new community garden to go work in - complete with wonderful new people to meet and a world full of potential meals to make from the spoils. Had you asked me in February if I could possibly imagine having not only a garden, but the fixtures of our apartment repaired and a green light to get a dog in the works, I would have hugged you still doubted. It was quite bleak, my outlook for continued settling into this Midwestern metropolis. So many major aches were unfulfilled. Life was too busy to try and relocate. Worse yet it seemed still no garden would be possible. No roof. No sun. No tomatoes. No dirty fingers from soil (rather than the usual bike grease).

Today the sun is coming out in time to usher in several days of warm spring weather. I find it a fitting metaphor for the peace I'm feeling. A year ago I would tear up thinking about how much I wanted a settled life. My taste buds could image it. My eyes could see it when the lids closed. And yet it seemed so far. That hardship is why I moved in the first place. To once again appreciate the life I can build. This year has sped past me thanks to all those steps I had in my mind to take. And I can't imagine doing it without Joel. Or the new people I have met.

All this waxing nostalgic and appreciative must have come from the gift card I received for Administrative Professionals day. Or possibly it's the giant tree they put on Michigan Avenue - adorned with flaming green ribbons in honor of earth day and the Arboretum. Either way, I can feel it. Ease. Happiness. That old sneaky contentment I looked for around all the corners of debt and jobs and apartments.

Now if only the blossoms would bloom. All cities look better dressed in blossoms. Also, I need to fix the wheels for the new bike. But I swear, after that, I'll relax just a bit. (Once we have a dog, of course.)

Wishing you not only Happy Earth Day, but happy on the earth day. I hope next year's honoring of our air/trees/natural resources we deplete too fast finds you feeling half as good as I am right now.

Love love love,

K.

What a Weekend

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 16:37:00 +0000

Gah - grumpy.

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 20:09:00 +0000

Yesterday I found myself blinking sometime in the afternoon and opening my eyes to a world filled with annoyances and let downs. I wondered to several of my friends if perhaps it was too much caffeine - maybe a disillusionment of some sort started it out. For the first few moments I gave in - and it consumed me. Despite feeling against the idea, I made myself bike home from work. Typically this revives me - makes me happy to be active and outdoors and not on the train.

Unfortunately my slow and happy summer route (found out of sheer need to avoid the arterial bike lane street that squishes bikers between parking meter spots and one lane of traffic) lead me into a confrontation with a woman who had a large book open and was driving with her interior lights on. I made her roll down her window, consciously maintained my composure and niceties, and wanted to make sure she wasn't driving and reading. She told me I wasn't supposed to be riding in the "industrial corridor" and wrongly assumed I had no lights. Once corrected - she told me my Planet Bike lights should be replaced with "bigger ones".

Things only got worse after I stopped at a local bike shop to pick up a nicer headlight - and was honked at and run out of my lane by a car with a "support cyclists - share the road" bumper sticker. I think the old white car was purchased by some young kid who failed to get rid of the bright yellow signage on the bumper. Joel had the unfortunate displeasure of dealing with me when I stormed home declaring how much I hated Chicago and biking here. My words made no sense but sounded angry and resentful of this city's pace and flow and traffic and selfishness. It took until way after my fingers were bleached and pruney from a very hot shower to calm me down.

But today is a new day. And it is sunny out. And life is short. I read this today (courtesy of the New York Times).

“He loved the street more than anything.”
It helped that he had a voice like a radio announcer’s. “His voice really carried,” Mr. Hughes said. “Joe would say to me, ‘You have to not be afraid to talk to yourself out loud.’ He said that once he started talking out loud, somebody would stop, and once he had one, he’d have a crowd, and once he had a crowd, he’d sell peelers.”

It reminded me how swift - and how full of delightful people I'll never meet - life is. I'll try my best to remember the good ones when all I want to do is fly away from the mean ones in Chicago.

Wishing you reminders of the good - whether in the big city, or tucked on the side of Cinderella Mountain...

Love love love,

K.

All planned out.

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 21:50:00 +0000

Again I find myself with no clean laundry that doesn't stink all because I was (in order from Friday to current) :

Biking
Dive Bar Happy hour - listening to the best jukebox in Chicago. All oldie/goodies.
Biking
Dinner at Twisted Spoke (cheese curds not as good as MN - they were breaded)
Riding in old car to Aurora, IL
Eating bland grits and cheesy hash browns at Denny's.
Driving new car back on Joel's tail (first time driving since the moving van drive to Chicago)
Moving a bed and boxes into a friend's new place.
Stopping at Target for a new set of T-Shirt Sheets and some Bread sticks.
Napping and waking up grumpy.
Attending a "Hot and Cold Beverage" Party for a drink.
Biking with 8 other cyclists down busy streets on a Saturday at 11pm.
Dancing for 4 more hours at the Hideout Dance Party.
Biking home. Eating cheese and crackers.
Sleeping.
Biking to the Urban Cafe - probably my favorite small spot yet in Chicago.
Petting puppies at "Let's Pet Puppies" - getting depressed because they seemed like they were from somewhere that rhymes with Huffy Hills.
Biking home.
Refusing to leave the bed for the rest of Sunday.
Eating Tater Tots - in bed still.
Biking to work.

Can you see why I have no laundry clean? It was a full weekend. And this week doesn't seem to be declining in commitments. Thankfully Joel has planned out our evening:

I have a sinking suspicion I won't be blogging from the laundromat this evening.

Wishing you making up for lost time happy and homebody alike...

Love love love,

K.

Laundry and a new battery!

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 00:40:00 +0000

Working off of just the slightest fraction of the smallest bar on my airport card in this laptop I thought I would take as much time as I can until the Internet goes away to describe to you the scene I find myself in almost weekly - my neighborhood Laundromat.

Normally Joel acts as the work mule and carts our pounds and pounds of bike tights, work shirts, wool socks and favorite t-shirts in the rapidly decaying wooden box from Ikea that was once our laundry cart. Since our visit to San Francisco we've resolved to find a metal cart with four wheels and a softer handle. Proving once again that the best way to find out what you really need is to nit pick the thing you obtained thinking it would work. And since finding out there was in fact NO laundry on-site as the rental agent told Joel almost a year ago, this particular cart has been very good to us. But weekly trips over potholes and listening to us curse the illegal activity of drivers never stopping for crosswalks here in Chicago - has caused the little blonde grained planks too lose their ability to go on much further.

I'm looking straight at it - pool of melted snow and anti-freezing chemicals drying on the brick colored tiles that line the entire room. To my left are two vending machines: one terrifically retro with "COLD Drinks" sandwiching mod stripes of blue, purple and pink; the other a plastic ad for Pepsi with a NASCAR guy - Jeff Gordon I just remembered - offering up your "Choice of Victory Lane". Neither one has worked since our second visit here. We shared an orange Crush. It was lovely. I don't think they have been stocked since.

For how laundry mats go - this one has more charm than any other I've frequented. From Montana ones as a kid, through Minneapolis all around Lyndale Avenue and Grand - nothing has such touching attempts at making it look like an extension of one's home. The front window is large and clear with close to 10 large species of tropical plants acting as a living curtain between the washers and the 4 laned California Avenue (a thoroughfare in Chicago running North/South). For sitting spaces, the proprietors have offered benches that look like what one would buy when overhauling their massive garden to a more European theme.

You hear the hum of the machines - feel the floor vibrating during the spin cycles, and hope the next high pitched beep you hear will be yours - calling out to put your clothes in the dryer. Promising you are 1/3 of the way done! Like me. Right now. Excuse me.

Now as the thick tempered glass is steaming up and I watch the two loads of lights and darks try to dry as soon as they can, I can think of one thing that is quintessential "'mat" stereotype. The Argentinean owner and his wife play the same radio station every day here: smooth 70s and 80s and jazz. 95.5 W...something something. Sometimes we get lucky and the songs are the very select few you actually enjoy from that genre. The rest of the time I think of my little brother Jacob who can play the saxophone and who asked for Kenny G CDs on Christmas a few years back. I wasn't thrilled with the assignment. But, I do count my blessings that there is no TV mounted on the wall. Several security cameras (of questionable states of working order) yes, television shows showing only the worst of selections to America: no. You don't even know how happy I am to hear melodious solos of wind instruments rather than watch another Judge themed show, or a repeat of that show with the brothers and the kid - the one that still - STILL is on the air and popular!

Most of the time people disobey the posted signs and leave the premises between loads. And by "people" I include Joel and I. Guilty. We pop next door to our favorite affordable and amazing wine shop and pick out a bottle to have that evening. Usually reds. Tonight I'm having white. But only because I already purchased Joel his six pack of beer from Michigan that he requested. If the man gets beer. I get white. It's an even trade. Sort of like folding our own individual clothes even though we wash them together. Or me using the cold cycle when he's not around because I am determined that it is gentler on the clothes.

It's here towards the front I sit looking at the expanse of this facility - a full restaurant size - while watching a young mother and her daughter helping put the clothes into and out of the dryers along one of the walls. I feel calm here in this quiet. Much calmer than I can say for riding home last night and almost getting flattened sideways by a Suburban. But that's another post of course.

Wishing you quiet calms and soda machines stocked wherever you are...

Love love love,

K.

Once a year dear Hadley

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 17:24:00 +0000

Today is special. Today this calmly dynamic, red headed, pretty faced girl I know has a reminder of how wonderful the world is because she is in it for another year. Today is Sarah's birthday. So far it's the second one I haven't been able to be around in person for and I have a feeling it won't be the last. These occasions remind me of just how complicated it is to not only grow up - but grow apart (literally speaking only of course) as we move towards building our adult lives. I completely falter in my conviction to see how life can be in other locations. How much easier and sweeter meeting for a cup of coffee at Cafetto would be instead of chatting online with capitalized abbreviations showing the height of my excitement (OMG!! Happy Birthday!!!, etc. etc.)

I must admit this is the part of life I wasn't fully expecting. You think phone calls and witty banter over the internet is enough. How grossly I underestimated. Yet, I am still excited for how far we really have come. Years ago I would pick Sarah up in the 1991 Ford Tempo I drove, fully lined with red wine colored upholstery, and we spoke on and on of hopes and wishes for what was to come. Through birthday blizzards we laughed at the ridiculous nature of how much we really are the best of buddies and can pick up on unsaid jokes and disappointments.

With all of Chicago's splendor and heightening sense of home, I can't help but think the only missing part is the support beams of people like her. She was one of those perfect pairings in life - to bring out the schoolgirl shrieks and giggles yet stand firm with a shoulder and something for the blue and gray days. Not to mention her electric abilities to bake the meanest sweets of anyone I know. My dessert life has severely suffered from this move.

Oh dear friend - I hope you understand how truly happy I am that you were born on this day a few decades ago. I can't imagine enjoying my life in Chicago without first learning how to enjoy life as my own person: loved, liked and sometimes irritating as I was. Happy Happy Birthday!

Wishing you all someone equally suited to call your best friend...

Love love love,

K.

A Chicago Weekend

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 00:06:00 +0000

Winter really has come as it pleased this season. At times my fingers would stiffen beyond feeling after 10 minutes of riding, and 72 hours later the snow would be melting fast enough to prompt flood warnings for parts of Chicago proper. Even so, I'm sort of enjoying winter riding for the first time since I made myself aspire to ride year round (out of peer pressure and brotherly support). Perhaps it's my 5 mile commute each morning that makes me less wary and more used to the wiggle and wag of my rear wheel on salty crunchy snow. Because of the week filled with gradually stiffening and white dyed bike tights, I find my weekends taking on a particular pattern.

Fridays usually I'll ride a few miles in any direction to drink down a few beverages with the friendly fellow riders. Saturday is a day for sleeping in. And here is where the remaining 36 hours can go in opposite directions. I can end Sunday night on my pillow satisfied with completion of various home projects and recipes finished. Or, I can kick myself for sleeping up to 13 hours in a day. This weekend I stepped up and raged against the nap machine to sloppily clean up the bathroom before taking a shower... which started me on the path to constructive tendencies.

Now as I await leaving in 90 minutes to go ride 5 miles to play a 45 minutes indoor soccer game, I look happily at the clean dishes and think about the massive bowl of red pepper hummus and other foodstuffs ready for workday consumption this week. Finances are ironed out and the wonky cord of this laptop will soon be replaced with a new one from ebay... and it will have a new battery buddy to boot...up. Ha! Boot. Up! It seems not just watching movies and drifting between meals and consciousness has a positive effect on my funny factor as well.

This weekend Joel's work is flying us out to San Francisco for his annual work retreat. This back and forth of temperatures, mixed with a trip to Colorado for the new year, and this upcoming getaway, are all holding off a bonafide aclimation for me. I shouldn't complain, but I'm wearing wrist warmers... inside. In the kitchen. Where I turned off the oven an hour ago after roasting garlic. My body has lost it's ability to buck up and bike the winter bullet without feeling the effects. But I'll whip it into shape. I even walked half a mile in the fresh 8 inches of snow that fell Friday evening into yesterday morning. After spending the precursory "never less than $50 a visit" stocking up on miscellaneous necessities around the house, we had fun looking at all the flakes stacked onto tall iron fences and oak trees surrounding the old mansion style buildings on Logan Boulevard. I almost made it inside without Joel attempting a snowball fight... or really just a dump of snow onto Kim. Let's be realistic.

See:

My life is so hard.

Wishing you all "hardness" as easy as mine...

Love love love,

K.

Permanence...

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 23:07:00 +0000

You know what the strangest feeling is? Seeing list of things/items/projects/occasions that were once put off due to saving for moving, moving, (repeat 2 times)finally being widdled down. Things like a waterproof shell for when biking outside. Or paying down credit card debt. Obtaining a new camera (off the back of a truck?) from someone wearing a bluetooth set advertising on Craigslist. Hey - it looked brand new to me. I don't care if it's $100 cheaper than Amazon - no guilt for me.

I can't tell you how good it feels to start to make out a firm life again. Between moving back and forth across half this country, I not only promised myself to hire movers from now on, I plum forgot what it feels like to not be suffocated by things I couldn't possibly start to address in my life. Now I find the trick is making sure I don't make (in my opinion only) the mistake that plenty of Americans seem to make, and keep adding new things whenever I cross something off.

When I sold off 8 years worth of belongings last year, I couldn't believe how much stuff I had acquired. Deep down I was happy to see some of it go (but Julie, I'm glad you still have that couch for me to visit). Only just yesterday I thought about how much new stuff my pretty and permanent paychecks purchased. I'm starting to acrew again.

So this week, after what I hope will be a family feeling dinner with vegan foodies for Thanksgiving I'm staying home to work on projects in lieu of shopping. It just so happens to get one more to-do-when-I-have-a-free-day items erased from the guilt trip chip in my head. Stay tuned for more. And send me your plastic bags.

Wishing you small chips devoured - with dip or otherwise...

Love love love,

K.

Soon soon oh city city...

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 14:50:00 +0000

An unexpected bout of homesickness has washed over me since about Tuesday. Small hints of missed streets and riding fast without (as much) fear of close car confines and of being surrounded by those whom I've spent years of my life enjoying the company of are jumping into my mind like popcorn.

Twice I've teared up.
Five times I've said "I miss Minneapolis".

And although there's not a part of me that is wishing to live back in the Twin Cities metro, I think my brain feels that since I'm going back this weekend for a visit, it can wax nostalgic in the middle of my workday. It's becoming disruptive I tell you. Especially when I see pictures (Courtesy of Deplaqer) like this:

Meanwhile, I'm finding tasty bits of Chicago to add to the fledgling memory box up inside my head. Each day I ride home I take pictures for my Fall Picture Project. And once our internet is ironed out at home, I'll be able to upload them properly without missing any (as is not the case right now) on my flash drive. Through my lovely but beaten up camera I see wonderful signs of nature, city dwellers, urban architecture and sites roughed up and gentrified.

On the days where I take the train, I'm reminded of this life I lead. It's only a small percentage of the geographic area of America that trek across and under streets full of such a variety of people. Moving up escalators, standing as the train lurches into and out of stops, walking/riding through taxis and delivery trucks...

How easily you forget about life without all this excess and busy behavior. As much as I love it, I am reminded more now that I am part of this swell of humanity rather than the quiet of towns where my other family members habituate. What a large and diverse world I have moved myself into. I'm looking forward to stepping back to Minneapolis to evaluate the differences that I've grown accustomed to since I moved here in April.

Also I hear there will be cake. And I get to dress up. I think I'll need to procure a curling iron.

Wishing you fondness of recalling what you might have left behind (for now)...

Love love love,

K.

Snibbets...

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 15:18:00 +0000

Today allow me to presume what we might have in common. While it certainly isn't politics, or longitude and latitudes, I have a suspicion all you loved readers can relate to this week's realization of mine.

Sometimes you feel like the moon is playing tricks on the tide of commitments and deadlines around you. One day the salty waters of things weighing on your mind seem shallow and clear. You can see your toes pruning under the softly lapping waves. And then out of nowhere the water his the bottom of the jeans you rolled past your knees. Those peaceful and harmless ebbing of the oceans is quickly forgotten with demanding swirls coming from what seems like every direction. It takes great strength to stand upright and look at it from an objective perspective (detective - sorry, just had to rhyme that). My days and weeks here in the city seem to involve plenty of dealing with rising waves and disappearing sea anemones. One day I feel like I'll never learn how to categorize and invoke self discipline. The other, I'm floating on my back, listening to my breath as the salt water evaporates on my face.

And while the imbalance isn't disarming or annoying, it's noticeable. The measure is enough that I strive to find a way to tame it, to break it down to bite sized pieces, to line them up and knock them down...

You get the idea.

Until then, I almost prefer the high tide. It doesn't let me think about all the other smaller projects I wish I could get to. The intensity masks the depth. Oh, how horribly vague that reads! Shall we move onto dry land?

It's been a wonderful week here in Chicago. The weather is warm with fog that rolls in overnight, and scurries away under the heat of the afternoon sun like a kitchen pest when the lights come on. I find myself wishing for cooler weather so there might be less people out and about, thereby simplifying my routes over and under and across this city. I fear it might not make much difference. Maybe I'll be surprised by no decline of fellow commuters. This is indeed a year of surprises.

Fall started Monday. I set a goal of taking a picture every day for the entire season - same premise as the 2007 Spring photo project:

I quickly found that less Kim on Kim time, and more social commitments, means less opportunity to pull off the side of the road and snap a picture. Hence - it will be 7 pictures a week. Perhaps two one day, five the other. I'll upload my progress as it grows yellow and falls off the tree or frosts over on the first night below freezing.

Lastly, my friend Rachel (The Clegg Family blog on my link list) featured this automated drawing featuring common blog entry words. Here's mine. It think it looks dandy.

(Care of http://wordle.net/)

I know there are constant reminders to how easy it is to pick apart our lives by statistics and equations nowadays. But still, this made me smile when thinking about what words it chose to pull out of this blog. I suppose Chicago get's its due. Even if it is missing what is automatically listed ad nauseum after its name on public places here in the city: Richard M. Daley, Mayor. That guy sure gets a lot of press. It's even on posters for concerts going on in public parks. I'd wager his tides are even more off kilter than mine.

Wishing you preciously predictable ebbs and flows...

Love love love,

K.

Miracle on Milwaukee Street (actually Avenue)

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 21:43:00 +0000

Last night I really had a great time. I went solo shopping for tap dance shoes for a Community Ed Class I'm taking later on this month. I found not only the tap shoes I was looking for (right at the end, at the second shop on Milwaukee Avenue nearby my apartment) but so much more. I found magic.

It's been a while since I've felt like something happens that wouldn't happen for other people - like something special occurs in my day that is completely extraordinary. It happened in between the used toys and electronics... right amongst the white plastic shelves barely fit to contain the number of used shoes of all sizes and of absolutely no organized placement. I found the exact same boots I purchased in November, 1999 from a Nordstrom Rack in California. These last three years the boots I almost threw away five years ago became a cherished and appreciated winter barrier against slush and grit and rain and cold while snuggled into my bike's toe clip pedals.

It was in a puddle last winter that I realized they were beginning to say their goodbyes. At first my socks were a bit damp. Sure the zipper pulley snapped off after a -20 degree ride several years back, but they were still ok. I would put a plastic bag over my socks for a while. Eventually my denial was as easy to pick apart as the stuffing coming out of the fleece lining... through the outer parts of the boots. I've kept them only for the sake of hoping to find a replacement online...

Discontinued.

I swear every good and happy and true point of my live was relived last night as I looked up to see two replicas - a bit dusty - smiling at me above the stacks of heels and sneakers. A cry of "NO WAY" directly followed by trying to explain my entire story to a quiet and smilingly polite Hispanic woman who just wanted to look for her damn shoes herself thanks came out of my mouth with the luster only comparable to a child's on Christmas day upon finding out they receive extra presents this year!

With this, and a feminine and professional blazer score, I left and rode home feeling like Chicago had welcomed me into its open arms. The city of broad shoulders... extending them to give me a hug. I don't care if they do say it's the most Depressing City (Forbes, look it up.) It's only depressing if you don't know how to dig at a thrift store.

Wishing you miracles...in whatever shoe size you wear...

Love love love,

K.

Meringue, Cut Outs, Pot Holes

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 14:11:00 +0000

In about 16 or so hours (18 if they lollygag) I'll be sleepily welcoming 5 guests into our Chicago apartment for a weekend of merriment and bike culture. By Monday evening I'll be worn out and presumably sick and tired of trackstands and messenger bags. Maybe.

One topic of conversation between Joel and I has been the three major factors of awful street states here in our big big city. We've come up with the big three to always warn out of town bikers of:

Hazard Numero Uno: "Meringue"
This consists of squares of any length and width, cut from the street surface and replaced by what can only be described as a blind and drunk cartoon elephant - oozing the concrete from it's trunk like the child of you imagined they do to put out fires when serving on the volunteer zoo fire brigade. The pachyderm staggers away from the unsettled mixture without so much as smoothing it out. For good measure it probably steps in it too. The dried result is ours to live with. See...

Hazard Two: "Cut Outs"
I'm hoping the reasoning behind this failure of urban infrastructure maitenance is intended to actually help our good city's streets. But so far I my hopes have been pretty empty. One morning you'll ride on your regular route - before any coffee to wake you up - and quickly notice a massive (10ft x 10ft sometimes) square missing from the street... coming up in about two seconds worth of riding time. Without proper notice, you have little or no choice but to slow down as much as possible and ride through the square of pinchflat-dom. Tomorrow you'll know better. You'll signal to the cars behind you that you are actually avoiding this gulf of scratched up pavement 2 inches below the rest of the road. You'll go around it and all will be ok. Unless they box you in. Then you pray you remembered a tube and you can change the flat in time to get to work.

Hazard Three: "Potholes"
You know them. We all do. They don't really get covered for a while and when they do they leave a pock-marked post-adolescent complexion to stretches of neighborhood streets. You choose your paths wisely to keep to the center, swerve to the left and then to the right, just to keep your teeth from falling out of your jaw during the bone shaking 20 seconds it takes you to get to the end of the block.

(Photo from a flickr search: Thanks to Hacocayb!)

So now, dear two wheeled loved ones. Take heed of my warnings. The streets are waiting for you. I am too! Drive safe.

Wishing you all safe travels this Labor Day weekend!

Love love love,

K.

What a Settled Day Feels Like...

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 01:56:00 +0000

There have been many glimmers of life finally cumulating into a real solid experience here in Chicago. I've been finding myself happy and satisfied with the swiftness of making not only nice, but quality friends. This week I get paid for a job I started a week ago. It has been months of disappointment and revamping of my entire work history on a piece of paper 8.5" by 11. For the first time in my adult life I realized the hardships of a down-turned job market. The sigh of relief coming out of my mouth could knock over a poorly constructed card house I'll have you know.

A week ago I was visited by Chelsea and we relied solely on the elevated train system (the "L" for those in the know) and found ourselves dropped smack dab in the middle of pre-Cubs game mayhem next door to Wrigley Field. While being courted by scalpers and wondering aloud to one another if we actually looked like baseball fans, we trekked all the way to the Chicago Diner to feast on vegan dinner and a peanut butter/cookie dough vegan milkshake. Hours later, and finally back downtown to drop off my layover friend, I hopped onto my trusted Windsor and proceeded to storm up Milwaukee Avenue with the help of 2 glasses of Pinot Grigio.

By now the night has gone very smoothly and nicely. I fondly stared up at the skyscrapers of downtown Chicago while sitting on a stone bench nearby the Chicago river and sharing said wine with my Minneapolis friend. I shared laughs and memories, called my boyfriend who was out of town on business and even managed to tie my broken headlight onto my handlebars with a piece of torn off shirt (I wasn't wearing it.) All in all, you could say the day was a success. A nice quick flash of impending normalcy in a new town. And you would be right.

I found myself even more thankful for the work it's felt like these last four months have been as I seamlessly swerved to avoid a line of cars, complete with taxi guests opening their door into the bike lane. I saw it coming. I knew how to react. I even found time to tell them that opening their door wasn't safe. They apologized. I kept my pace all the way up to the red light (one of 6 at this intersection) and pulled gracefully in front of the bus at the head of the line. As the traffic surged forward on cue, I heard my name called. In the three seconds I had to process this, I saw new friends. I yelled my hello/goodbyes and informed them (a bit amped up on riding and the little bit of wine I had) that I was due for my bedtime.

The next mile or so until home, I couldn't help but tally up how thankful I was to already have good people around who recognize me and say hello in addition to a job with health insurance for when my bicycle antics don't always include me seeing it coming. Finally I began to feel how I did before all this moving and trying out living in other cities began. It's been a long long year. I'm ready to make this next one even better.

Oh. And did I mention my work has indoor bike parking? And a gym with a shower. Life is good. Now all I need is wheels for my road and winter bikes and we'll be on a roll. Ha ha - literally I suppose. Man, that was not intentional.

Wishing you tallies of only the best kind.

Love love love,

K.

For Z...

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 20:22:00 +0000

My friend mplsminx has an adorable half clone. This week is her birthday week. Happy Birthday Zoe!

See a full, legible version here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/78162310@N00/2634446275/sizes/l/

Love love love,

K.

The Box...

noreply@blogger.com (K.) — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 15:22:00 +0000

Picking Up the CSA
Originally uploaded by Bart King

Just to give you an idea. My stickers would be a bit different. Definitely a Minneapolis Bike Love or two...

K.