She was most delightful.

In a city, you never know who you're going to meet next. Going to the grocery store or walking down the block can run you into some of the most interesting and delightful people you may ever cross paths with.

The other day I was on the train ride home from work, and this lady sat down next to me. She was wearing splendid dark furs from head to toe, and beautiful diamond earrings. She murmured something to me about the train stopping further at the platform than it usually did, and so she had to get on a different car than she was used to. I said ah yes, the train is unpredictable. Then she fumbled in her purse to get her train ticket out, and brought out a pair of binoculars. She said they were lovely but never stayed closed and told me a little story about how she had seen her friend using them and commented how nice that was to have binoculars, and the friend gave them to her on the spot because her eyes were failing and couldn't use them anyway. I asked if she was going to a show tonight, and she said yes, not a show, but an opera- Midsummer Night's Dream to be exact.

Excellent, I said. I told her I was holding out for Carmen tickets. She proceeded to tell me that she had a favorite seat in the opera house, on the 6th balcony right in the middle. She said it was the 'sweet spot' of the house and the acoustics were so fantastic, that once she was asked to sit somewhere else. So, she sat a balcony lower and kept looking up at who might be in her seat. She said in the second act of the opera, a soloist stood up from her usual seat and proceeded to sing the solo from her chair. That's how you know how great the acoustics were from that chair!

Then she told me one more story before she turned to her book, and I to my magazine. She said she used to play flute, and was quite dismayed when, during one performance, the flautist was quite out of tune- not able to adjust with the changing warmth of the opera house. So she stood up in her seat, in the 6th balcony and said, "Tune your flute!" And she said the flautist immediately fixed it. So, she said to me, wish mischievous brown eyes, I know they can hear me.

Simply delightful. Like most things and people and places I fall immediately in love with, I wanted to pick her up and tuck her in my pocket for safekeeping. My pockets are full of things like encounters, people, and sun dappled grass. I either imagine shrinking them down to fit into my pocket, or my pockets expanding to hold everything that brings me joy. That sounds a bit Catcher in the Rye of me, doesn't it?

Ode to Mel

Meet Mel.

She's one of my besties from high school. This is her face. She is 4.5 months pregnant!!!!! I am so excited for her I feel like I am pregnant!! and I don't even want to be preggers. Her baby girl will be born soon. Can't wait! She's had a rough ride getting to this point, 4.5 months pregnant with a baby girl, so praise the Lord, "He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted." (Job 5:9)

This is the cheesy "mommy's hands making a heart over her preggers belly" shot. I am not putting a hex on it, although it may seem like it in this photo. This is my super excited face pointing at that which I am super excited about.

I love Mel's imagination- it really is the most random, delightful thing you can experience. Mel also has a splendid ability, a psychic connection, to know to call me at exactly the moment I am needing a call the most. Even now, when I feel I am being a bit ridiculous in my fears, I hear Mel's voice say "Just relax, Heids." And then I usually do. It is absolutely reassuring knowing that wherever I am in the world, whatever might be going on, I have a friend in Mel.

Home for Thanksgiving, say yes to a healthy dose of country. I am pretty sure I won't want to be returning to the city. Le sigh.

ooo.

i just had an ache in my heart to see the Colosseum in Rome again in person.

I saw a picture of it and all my memories came racing back into my heart.

I'm afraid I'm not sure how much longer I can last in North America.

New places, old friends.

This past weekend I took a bus trip 7 hours round trip to Madison, Wisconsin- the capital of the best state in the union. I needed to go, to get, to be gone out of the city. And I needed a weekend with one of my oldest, most beloved friends.


She returned from Afghanistan this summer, and we sat and talked most of the night about everything and anything. I love that she has a huge vocabulary and a quick, intelligent mind. and I love that when I asked her, "do you ever meet people and think to yourself- there is another character for my novel?" she replied quite seriously, "yes, of course." and then we lamented that we don't immediately write down everything about that person, and instead are more likely to forget their nuances, and thus, never use them as a character.

Her brother was in a play with a local theater. He's a really great actor and planning to make a career of it. Here is a clip of his performance:

The last mile.

So, I was informed by my brother that facebook would keep all your information active, so if you need to go back on and check something, all you need to do is log on and you'd automatically re-activate your account. I've done this from time to time to look at pictures of my nephew or check events. Then, last week I called my brother and he says "5pm tonight, Heidi. 5pm. That's when my account expires." Apparently after 2 weeks of not logging at all, everything gets erased and your account is permanently gone.

I've debated this bit of news, and thought about just logging on from time to time to keep all my pictures, etc, but I've been doing some thinking this weekend about resolve, seeing things through, finishing that last mile at a sprint.

In general, life always needs more of this. Everyone's lives. Steadfastness, courage, the wherewithal to stick with something, someone, an idea, a vision, a decision- anything, until the bitter end. Nothing gives a greater sense of accomplishment to do this, and nothing a greater sense of dismay to fail at this.

This is something I want to strive for in my personal life this upcoming year, and I am going to start with facebook. I'm unplugging. Start the clocks: in two weeks time it will be all over, for good. I'm restarting, letting into my life only the things that encourage love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. And I'm going to start looking for that in other people, and praising it when I see it.

Because enough of the opposite, already. Enough tolerating anything less than these fruits of the Spirit, of accepting anything less worthy, in myself or other people. No more walking to the finish line!

letting go

**I wrote this a few months ago and am able to finish it only now**


I've had this post building up in me the past couple of days, and I think I have it Sorted Out enough to write it now, and share it publicly without offending anyone and still being true to myself.

I'm 28; I feel like I have entered another chapter of life, this, the late 20's. The friendships I had at the beginning of this decade have changed, friends are married, more established in their careers, with more degrees under their belt- Great Life Achievements have been made, have been found. Houses have been bought, sold, cars, the same, more countries explored, babies born, babies died, cancer found, death of parents, war, languages learned etc.

I have changed. Incredibly so. My family has changed. Things I thought would never change when I was 20, have completely flipped around and left me with no ground underneath my feet, with only the understanding that this is common for all earthly things.

And this is good. And bad, and horrible, and splendid and wretched; this is life.

In realizing all this I've also realized friendships need room to grow, to change, to morph; in some cases distance needs to happen, and the close friendship I might have once enjoyed, may never exist with that person again. Even when it seemed, not so long ago, that the friendship would never change; indeed, it is part of life to accept that it will most definitely change.

And this is not limited to friends, but also to family.

It's important, I feel, to recognize that this happens. And to recognize when it is good that this happens, and bad when this happens. And to take the appropriate measures to fix it when it is bad. But, people change, I change- and it is necessary to let room in the relationship for a new kind of relationship with that person, or else you may lose the person, or the relationship, forever.

I apologize if this is vague, but it is true of nearly every single one of my friendships. I find, mostly, that my friendships from high school have remained the most unchanged- for whatever reason. We, as individuals, have all changed immensely, but our friendships have remained largely the same. I'm not sure why this has happened, other than I don't think we have many expectations for our friendships. We have kept it simple- have allowed each other to grow, allowed our selves to grow, and our friendships to shift and still find ourselves there for each other when it is needed. Also, we care deeply about each other- enough to forgive completely and to be there in our life crises. And we are all crazy creative in the same way and just generally get each other. So despite being countries apart, each living uniquely separate and independent lives, we still remain friends. What I am trying to say is that a large part of this has come not from the exact constant closeness we have shared, but rather from the space and freedom we have allowed each other.

I think there is more to be learned about this, and inevitably I will morph this conviction as the years go on. But for now I am italicizing like Anne of Green Gables and her school day writings, which is my clue to stop.

They are really tall.

So, on Thursday night I went to my first professional basketball game- Bulls vs. Warriors with the Harvard Club of Chicago. Jeremy Lin, a Harvard alum, was playing for the Warriors, hence the outing.

It was nice to hang with the Harvards again, and eat nachos and drink beer. Bball games are insane- so much advertising and things going on constantly. After working in a quiet office all day, it was a complete contrast. I loved it. In fact, basketball is awesome, you guys. I might have a new hobby.

Some really super nice rich Harvard alum gave us four level-100 tickets, so we got to sit down front about 10 rows back for part of the game. I am spoiled for life!

Pionek was awesome enough to join me and roll with the slightly chaotic but oh-so-adventurous night! Here are some pics:

Level 300 seats.

Level 100 seats.They look so much bigger, no?


Halftime entertainment. I need this job.

In other news, has it really only been a week since the 15k? This has been the longestfastest week of my life.

You guys, I joined a gym.

FFC Gold Coast gym, to be exact.

No, Oprah does not work out there.

Yes, I asked.

One pilates session and personal training session coming right up tomorrow!! Can't wait to try out my new gym.

6th floor, with windows everywhere looking out at the sparkling city and lake. Fantastic.

In a city, you need escapes and respites and places that you can call yours, places for peace and relaxation. I hope this gym becomes such a place for me.

I am decidedly against gyms, but you just can't swim in the lake year round, and you just can't be a world-class triathlete if you don't swim.

So, there.

Also, I do bike everyday, in every weather. So joining a gym does not make me a sissy, thank you very much.

Plus, free yoga and spinning and pilates classes included.

Oh, and I also bought 10 ballet classes to another dance studio. So, ballet is about to become a huge part of my life.

I think I might have too many "hobbies".

I keep thinking about this blue pot

Let me tell you why this pot moved me like a magnet to it's side, just so.

The shape, that perfect perfect shape. Just look at it from the side:

Do you see that perfect swoop from top to bottom that finishes at just the right balanced distance from the rim? Do you see that swoop?

I yearn to make the perfect profile on a pot- I have thrown hundreds of pots and have yet to make a profile I am even remotely proud of. It is a slow, arduous process that might take my whole life.
It is a task worthy of a lifetime.

And then there is the color.Beautiful, pure, robin's egg blue at just the right thickness to let a bit of the clay underneath come through. Perfect.

In a year, nothing has moved me more than this pot to start throwing pottery again. Alas, I need to finish my research, and then I am going to indulge until my skin is worn off at the wrists from throwing all day!! Maybe, just maybe, some day, I will have a wheel and kiln of my own. I have wanted this since high school. Maybe by next year, just maybe.

le sigh.

Do you ever dream about what you would do, had you the ability to not have to work 40+ hours a week?

Now that I've said what I wanted, I will say nothing more about this pot. Just know that it is stuck in my thoughts, stuck in my mind, and it has started pulling at my mind-thoughts until I will throw again, and then it will pull at my muscles until my fingers shape something just as worthy.

I went to the SOFA exhibit this weekend with some friends. It was inspiring. My one comment is that I wish they had more ceramics and less glassware. Also, everything seemed to have a whimsical edge to it this year, that pleased me very much.

this is my new train project:

YES! those are safety pins!

Still madly in love with England.

100th post!

I can't help myself but wear color in the fall; it's as though I am envious of the trees and their jeweled leaves. I wore fuchsia-purple tights, a dark blue striped top and bright red coat today to church.

I shocked all the Lutherans today.

Here is some new biking/running gear I got this week as well.

I'd like to see you try to get in here, cold!

This top has a pocket in the side and a hood and little pockets for your fingertips in case the cold tries to get in. I got it at Campmor and paid a pretty penny, but it will be my main cold weather insulator, and may keep me biking to below 20 degrees....

This is an simple underarmour long sleeve that fits perfectly and thus I will go as long as I can without washing it, lest it shrinks. It is super comfortable and I wore it for my run today, and with a heavier underarmour tshirt underneath, it was perfect warmth for a 40 degree day. Running, maybe not so much walking- then I needed an extra hoodie. I bought it because it was labeled Heat Gear which I thought mean to keep you warm on cold days, but indeed, is meant to keep you cool on hot days. It works well for cold weather layering regardless!

Balaclava's are a must if you want to pretend to be athletic.

Here I am in my balaclava, wherein I feel like a cold-weather ninja. Don't you just love the word balaclava?


This is the pièce de résistance, the one that keeps me warmest, driest, happiest, above all. The Showers Pass Double Century Rain Jacket. Which I love because it blocks out all wind and rain, and yet has super breathability so you don't feel all humid inside. It also has a lower cut backside so that when I bend over my bike I am not exposing my bare back to the world. Another nice feature is a cloth lining around the neck so that you don't feel the cold plastic against your chin. I got this style because it is the most compressible, and wads up nicely to fit into my backpack if I don't need it, when commuting. I only wish it had pockets in the front. But there is a large pocket in the back. love. it.

Good gear is so important. Also, it is quality stuff, built to last through anything. I have found it a necessity when biking and exercising, to be properly clothed. I used to be a cotton t-shirt, old pair of gym shorts person, and that got me through 10 years of track from grade school through college. But now that I bike every day and run on the weekends, in all weather, proper gear is just so much better.

And a 100 dollar biking jacket is still way less than a 3,000 dollar used car!

Today? I ran further than ever before.

I even ran some of the hills. I didn't notice they were hills, they weren't so steep, so they don't really count.

I have a few rules when I run:

1. Life is too short to be spending it in agony running uphill. No one loves running uphill. Hills suck. Take them slow, enjoy the view at the top, then run willy-nilly down the hill, but don't pretend you like running uphill because I don't believe you for one minute.

2. Run as naked as possible. And by this I mean with as little gear as you can get by. And as lightweight clothes as possible. There is nothing worse than over-dressing for a run, or having to run carrying a large bunch of keys. If you don't need it, don't run with it. Some of my best runs have been without music, with just the rhythm of my heartbeat and breath and steps in my ears.

3. Always run for the love of it. Running to lose weight or get in shape are worthy reasons, but for myself, I run for the sheer joy of movement. The joy of running as fast as I can (I can never run long without sprinting a bit) or to work out a problem in my head or to get some emotion, that is too big to be contained in my body, out. Running is my therapy, it is my love, it is my joy.

So, here are some pictures from today. I'm in a fair amount of pain, but I did it, and at around 10 min miles, so whooooohoooo! After this I am falling promptly into a deep slumber.

Here are the two lovely girls I ran with, and mine's shadow. Lexie's is on the left, Pionek is in the middle, and I'm on the end. This was taken about halfway through.


This is a view of the race after we'd hit the half way mark. The lake was lovely. It was cold, and I wore three layers on top- an under armor Tshirt, with an under armor long sleeve over it, and my favorite zip up over that. I carried tissues, my keys, and my iphone in my zipoup.


Pionek and I after the race. She was a huge motivator during the race and stuck by my side even though she could have easily have gone much faster! So much more fun running with friends.

on how i dodged the rain and came home (fairly) dry

this might turn into an ode to Showers Pass- you have been warned.

So last weekend I bought some high quality bike clothing gear to make my rides more enjoyable. Rides like the one tonight, in 25 degree weather and a light fall freezing rain. Rides that are more about surviving the ride than enjoying it, although truth- there is some enjoyment in struggling to get somewhere. I'm convinced cars have completely removed the element of the struggle to get to a destination from our lives. Is this a bad thing? Sometimes. You miss a lot in a car.

For instance, let me describe to you my bike commute in Lake Bluff. I (usually ungracefully) lug my bike down the steep train car stairs and stand on the platform as out of the way as possible with all the other commuters (mostly med students and professors and some Navy), freezing in the cold Lake Bluff air, less than a mile from Lake Michigan. I wait for everyone to cross the tracks so I don't accidentally run anyone over with my bike, and then I cross, and go the opposite direction of everyone else, to the trail.

I hop on my bike, adjust my helmet, strap on some gloves, and take off down the trail. Immediately there is a steep switchback and I pick up a lot of speed going down a blind corner that is getting less and less blind as the trees lose their leaves. While careening down this hill I always pause mentally and look at these beautiful tiny purple flowers that grow in stark contrast to the dark trees around them. Then with a rush I zoom under the train tracks, where a freight train is usually parked making clicking and sighing noises as it awaits repairs or a free track, and drips wet (oil?) on the trail beneath.

The first 3 minutes of the ride are the hardest, as they are slightly uphill and in dark, compact woods with tall trees lining both sides. In the summer this was the coolest part of the trail and I looked forward to it; in the winter, now, it is the coldest part of the trail and the cold nearly knocks me off my bike. My face immediately freezes and I imagine I can feel my lungs recoil as I force cold air through them at suddenly rapid rates. (did you know you don't sweat in winter bc that energy is spent trying to warm the air you inhale?) Out of the woods, I go under a bridge and through a cement tunnel that closes it's gates from dusk to dawn, and I read that sign every day, and think in my mind what if they one day got it wrong and it was closed from dawn to dusk and that if I were homeless or needed shelter in a storm I would try to get here as fast as possible, and then I wonder if the gates are automated or if someone comes and closes them at dusk and opens them at dawn, and if so, if that is their only job, and they have a huge giant key on one huge giant key ring that unlocks and locks the gates.... and I think these thoughts nearly every morning and then lastly, as I begin to exit the tunnel, I admire the cool colors of the tunnel contrasted with the early morning sun outside the tunnel turning the cold earth warm yellow-green colors and the sky a warmer, lighter blue, and think for a moment about cool and warm colors and when they are contrasted in nature I almost fall down in worship every time at the beauty, kind of like this photographer and his gorgeous photos and sculptures: http://www.runeguneriussen.no/wallno04/04_10.html

But I digress.

After the tunnel (where those thoughts tumble through my frozen brain at record speed and I nearly die from the beauty of the colors) I go through some weeds that in the late summer were all sorts of reds and golds and purples and always made me turn my head to stare at their beauty for as long as possible. After this I come into more civilized land and pass the water refinery plant with its gated drive and its fountain in the front, that in the summer would spray cool water on me. Then I pass the nature reserve center where dark men in green uniforms are usually trimming some hedge, raking some leaves, or mowing some grass. They are all the same stature and build and I often think of them as though they are oompahloompahs and wonder if they are all related and then I envy them for their job as they get to work outside year-round. They do all the landscaping in the area. They always notice me on my bike and are willing to wait for me to pass lest they are working over the trail. I appreciate this and usually nod or smile to them as I whiz by at 15mph.

Then I cross a bridge over a creek and I take a moment to turn my head and admire the water flowing past. After that there is a marsh on the other side of the road and I like to watch the mist rise slowly some mornings and hang over the pond on the edge of the marsh. Sometimes this is the most eeriebeautiful thing one can witness, and only occurs when the sun has first arisen.

Then I pass the fourth drive that crosses the trail, the one to the landscaping business, the one where I T-boned an SUV. Here I always slow way down and look both ways repeatedly, but the drivers, since my accident, are always watching for me too, and will stop and wait for me to bike by, after I make and hold eye contact with them. (There is nothing more annoying than a driver that will not make eye contact with you.) Then I pass the tall electric power lines, all grouped and lined up like soldiers and listen for the high whine of electricity buzzing overhead. After that I cross some more railroad tracks and lift myself out of my seat, as these tracks are very bumpy and the trail on both sides doesn't quite meet the tracks. (biking to the train station over these tracks makes me feel like a mountain biker, as it takes some dexterity to stay on top of my bike, and there is a steep hill on the other side that makes you pick up speed immediately.) Then I pass the car dealership and a road where people never watch for bikes, and then the bridge over a highway where I pause and watch the speeding cars below, and feel sorry that they have to be in cars and aren't biking and have witnessed all that I have just witnessed on the trail. There is construction on this bridge, and I also usually pause to figure out what they are working on that morning.

Then I pass the used car dealership and the garage full of workers and remember if anything happened to my bike one of them could probably help me out in a pinch. They work in the garages with the doors closed in the winter. Then I cut through the used car dealership's drive and zoom off the bike trail onto the industrial park road. Here the drivers never notice me either, which means I have to notice them, which makes it slightly stressful. But for a moment, while on the trail I was biking west, on this drive through the industrial park I bike east for maybe 100 yards, and directly into the morning sun. It hits the frosted or dewy grass (depending on the temperature) and makes it sparkle with more brilliance than a well-cut diamond. I always have thought that raindrops and dew on the grass is more stunning than the most stunning diamond ring or earring or necklace that I have ever seen. I think if more people knew about raindrops and dew in the first rays of sunlight, the world, in general, might be nicer.

I round a corner and am heading south, passing the geese that sit there and stare at me, and the willows that line the drainage ditch. This past week a goose got hit by a car and it's innards were spread across the road. At first I felt very sad for the goose and could barely look at it. All the other geese didn't return for two days. After biking past it twice, I started to identify body parts and how it probably died, my inquisitive science- side taking over. I really want to take a feather from it, but am unconvinced that it wouldn't be full of germs.

Almost at work, I cut across parking lot and head directly for a row of bushes and weeds in the back of the lot. I hop off my bike for a moment to lift it over the curb and look left, to the east, to see the sun rise over a marsh full of cattails and a row of trees. Every single day, this view has been gorgeous. I can see a full expanse of sky over the marsh (so much sky is something very rare in a city) and the gray clouds or dark clouds or all blue sky and no clouds never fail to look so gorgeous hanging right over the auburn and gold cattails. Then I pass through the bushes over the dirt trail worn by me and other bikers, and take note of all the birds singing in the bushes around me, and the little moles that dart over the trail, and these three tall thistles that bloomed in the summer but are now dried stalks of such interesting texture. They are about two more bike rides away from getting named. I push through all this into the back of another parking lot, turn left, bike past the workers that are waiting in their cars (when it's cold) or outside their cars (when it's warm) and try not to notice as they watch me keenly as they wait for their warehouse to open. I imagine they say things to each other like, that girl is crazy to be biking this early in this weather, etc etc. I lift my bike over another curb into my company's parking lot, usually speed up through a puddle that is always in the middle of the lot, and splash it everywhere (I can't help myself) and then unlock the warehouse door, push my bike through, and set it up in the warehouse, in my "bike" spot.

Phew. That, my friends, is one third of my morning commute. Every day there is something different- in summer there were low- flying bugs bigger than dragonflies that would zoom and zag over the bike path with no regard to my presence. One day I saw a tiny blind vole or mole sitting smack in the middle of the yellow painted dashes dividing the path into two lanes. It seemed to like the yellow color, sniffing it, and wandering away for a bit, them coming back to the yellow. I completely understood, as I am quite enamored with yellow myself right now, and I told it that, and then hopped back on my bike and went on. (yes, I do find myself talking to animals now and again). And one morning the sun had just risen and there was mist over the entire trail, and the moon was still up. It was the most eriebeautiful thing and I would have taken a picture, but for now, these images are all mine, and I am hoarding them in my memory, and now writing about them in a most selfish manner. I hope you can forgive me. I just am not quite willing to share the images yet.

Then there is my 3 mile ride in the city which I do twice a day, which is an entirely different experience. I will write about that one day, but not now. This is a lot, and I must go get something done.

And maybe one day I will share some pictures. But they won't do it justice, and I just implore you to go out, find a trail, find some nature, and get a bike between your legs. It really is quite simply divine.

hrm, this didn't turn into an ode for Showers Pass at all. That will have to be for another entry, I guess!

My goodness I just saw how long this really is. And I could have gone into even more detail!! I don't really expect anyone to read this entire post. I'm not sure whether to apologize for it's length or not. No, I don't think I will.