Has It Already Been A Whole Year?!?!?

I guess it has, which means only one thing - it's my birthday.

Well, it's actually tomorrow (or today, depending on when you read this - July 9th)

It seems like the past year had seen so many different events in my life. When I looked back at all the pictures, I could hardly believe all that has taken place. So I am going to get a little nostalgic and recap the year with pictures - likely most most you have already seen. Tomorrow I will post actual pictures from the b-day celebration. And since it's my blog and my birthday, most of the pictures are of me. How awesomely narcissistic of me.



And though there are certain things for which I cannot find the exact pictures (Milwaukee, Miami, Nolan's wedding), I did my best to recap it all.




Almost exactly a month after my last birthday, I joined my family to watch Devin get married in Rhode Island.

And I didn't just watch - I helped. I actually married them.

And then to Tennesse this past March, to watch my brother Nolan get married.

Of course, this would be one of those events for which I can't seem to find any pictures.

But with his wedding, I was left as the last Girl standing. Yup, all those sorry kids went and got themselves hitched. Suckers.

But, right after Devin's wedding, I got Cheese'ed.

Oklahoma, June 08

Ironman, April 08

Take a guess.

First date, August 07.

About two weeks later, Madison IM, September 07.

Same visit, September 07

And lest we not forget Black Tie Bingo!

And then, I had the chance to meet some friends.

Ironman April 08 - Momo, Carrie and me

Ironman April 08 - Duane and me

Ironman April 08

And the running!! Boy did I run. In Chicago on Thanksgiving...

To Miami in January...

I have no idea what happened to these pictures.

To Madison in June....

I became an Ironman. Have I mentioned that?

And then, I gave away a kidney.

Remember "Ruby Red?"

But I got back on the "horse."

And am getting ready for Racine.

Wow. Told ya it seems like a lot. And those are just the major stuff - all the day to day memories will just have to stay in my head. Even with all the ups and downs, this past year was easily the best yet. I am far healthier, mentally and physically, then I was last July 9th. The good has far outweighed the bad, and I look forward to many more of the good.

Now where the hell's the cake?

Domesticity

So after the onslaught on fun and pictures (see previous three posts) over the last several days, it's time to get down to business.

I am having a houseguest tomorrow.

This event happens about once a month, or once every 21-25 days, and the night before the arrival, I am pretty frenzied.

Why?

Let’s face it – 25 days of the month, I am your typical bachelorette. I live alone, I come and go as I please, I answer to no one, and if I feel like leaving my undies on the bathroom floor, there’s not a soul around to complain. Don't get me wrong - I am not dirty. Not at all. It's just that, with all that's going on, things can get, well...messy.

On any given day, I am the kind of girl who:

1. Grocery shops on an as-need basis. If I can’t carry everything from the car to the apartment in one trip, I don’t buy it.

2. Wears two different socks pretty much all the time – not because I am trying to make a fashion statement, but because I often just pull out the first two socks I see and put them on. In fact, many a time I don’t even fold the clothes after doing the laundry – I just leave it in the basket and take what I need when I need it.

3. On that note, most of my clothes (minus my collection of sundresses, which are all hung up, thankyouverymuch) are often wrinkled because I don’t own an iron. In my defense here, most of my non-dresses are workout clothes, which also frequently double as my daily clothes (yes, even to the office, which I pop in and out of before/after workouts). So does it matter if they are wrinkled? I think not.

4. Washes my dishes when I need to – which isn’t often, because I am the world’s laziest eater so everything is pre-prepared, like Weight Watchers microwave meals, spinach in a bag (just throw some dressing in, shake and voila! Meal time!), or turkey sandwiches. If it can’t be made in three minutes or less, I don’t eat.

5. Owns only two plates. The rest is Tupperware, out of which I eat my cereal.

6. Cleans my bathroom twice a month - hey, I said I'm not dirty, just messy, and bathroom cleaning is the worst.

7. Randomly finds pretzel nuggets under my pillow.

8. Sleeps on one side of the bed, while the other side is usually occupied by past and current issues of Runners World and Triathlete, two random books, paperwork, a pen and my cell phone.

Wow – looking at that list, it seems I would hardly make for a good wifey one day. I am pretty sure I am about as undomesticated as they come.

I think my only redeeming quality is that I wash my bed sheets with regularity. ‘Cause that’s just gross.

So yeah…I’m kind of a catch.

Lock your brothers and husbands up.

So when I have houseguests, all hell breaks loose, and I am forced to clean up my pig pen. The upshot is that my place is so small, it only takes by a minute to shove everything into their own hiding places.

And today’s big project?

I bought an air conditioner. Yup, little Meggie measured her window, determined the BTUs, drove herself to the Home Depot, found a model, loaded it into her car all by herself, brought it up three flights of stairs (okay fine, I used the elevator, but I still carried it down the hall), and attempted to install it. And that’s where the story ends – I gave up after ten minutes, threw the screws across the room, stomped my foot and wagged my finger at it.

Moments later, my Healthy Choice meal beeped to tell me it was ready, so dinner was served.

Now it’s off to clean the bathroom.

Awesome.

End of the Weekend Pictures

So I know I have totally thrown up a ton of pictures this weekend, but the other day I was scrolling through my posts and noticed that I have a woefull amount of pictures. Thus, I took my camera with me all weekend, and here is the final day - Sunday. On schedule: Three-hour ride, one-hour run. Today I conquered my fear of riding alone, and did the whole brick by myself. And what a surprise - I didn't get a flat, get run over, or fall off my bike without having someone to save me. It was just me, and I loved it.

I tried to take this while actually riding the bike. This is on the north trail, looking, well, north. This also happens to be the same path I ran south on for the MC200 relay last month. In fact, the exact exchange point is just about right where I took the next two pictures.

Me.

Path.

YAY!!! Home from the ride, getting ready to run. The smile on my face is most likely because A). I did the ride 10 minutes faster than last week and B). I was feeling oddly fine, which was weird, given last week's catastrophe of a brick. Uh, yeah, so the apartment is SORT OF a distaster - but in my defense, I have been pretty swamped this weekend, and was basically in and out like a tornando. Please avert your eyes.

Evanston lakefront, looking south - in the far stiance you can make out the building of downtown Chicago.

Overlooking Lake Michigan. I was aiming to get the sailboats, but they didn't really come out. Use your imagination.

This is on the way back, at Lee Street Beach, or as I like to call it, "My Beach." Okay, so I don't technically own it, but I like to frequent it. About 10 seconds after I snapped this picture, Devin ran up to me with TJ (my once-dog, now hers because I can't take care of shit). It wasn't until we parted ways that it occurred to me we should have taken a picture together (we were wearing the exact same outfit of skirt, black bra, glasses and IronMeg visor). Oh well. You know what she looks like.

Run done. Yeah, I am not as happy in this one. I think I was just really hot, sweaty, and achy. I threw my back out yesterday doing something completely ridiculous (lifting bottled water) so I wasn't even going to ride today, but then when I woke up (I slept on an ice pack) I was like, "Self, don't be such a sissy." So after the run, I was pretty stiffened up, and STARVING.

Speaking of starving, I need to go eat. I hope everyone had a lovely holiday weekend!

Fourth of July - Round Two and Le Tour

While the first half of the day proved to be quite eventful, the second half was just as crazy. After the run and parade, I went to Ellie's to hang out. However, most of the time was spent listening to Baby Nolan, who apparently knew there was fun to be had and screamed from his crib until we took him out. Her he is, post-nap, dried snot everywhere, and a look that says,"I hate you Auntie Megan."


From there, I went to my mom's, ate four (4!) servings of delicious dessert (diet be damned!) and then headed to the Sox game. I didn't take any pictures of the actual game, but I managed to force my sister and brother-in-law to take a picture outside on the top level.

You may notice that we are all in sweatshirts - that's because it was COLD last night! Yes, cold - on July 4th.

Me and Devin. So that's all I have to say about the 4th. It was long, busy, and when I got home I literally passed out in my bed. My legs were exhausted, my head was throbbing and my eyes were itchy from all the firework smoke that was EVERYWHERE. But overall, it was a great day.

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And for those of you who care, Tour de France started today. This is one of the big highlights every summer for me, mostly because I started watching it the year my dad got sick. That summer I began a short-lived tradition where I would spend a long weekend at my friend's lake house (at the time, it was birthday treat, and to also take a break from caring for my dad) and every morning, I would get up, turn it on, and obsess over it all morning. Lance rode back then, so it was kind of a big deal.

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The Tour reminds me that it is summer, and that my birthday is right around the corner. Every year I pick a favorite, and me and my lake house friend used to make all sorts of friendly bets on the race (overall winner, king of the mountains, etc). I will admit that I fell off a bit last year towards the end of the race because I just got so frustrated with all the doping nonsense. But this year I am back and ready to see some action.

Fourth of July - Round One

No better way then to start the day with a 10-miler on the lake. Yes, in fact, this would be the second attempt of my long run this week, what with all the quitting I did the other day. I decided to take my camera this time, because far too many runs I have had where I think to myself, "Damn am I lucky to live here - I wish everyone could see what I see." And now you can!

Belmont Harbor looking north - this would be around my two-mile mark (I started at the 1.5).

Heading south down through Lincoln Park - to the left is the Lincoln Park lagoon, and straight ahead is downtown - you can seek the Hancock Building.

Me - standing at the top of the North Avenue Bridge - behind me are the south bound lanes of Lake Shore Drive - this bridge crosses over to the lake and North Avenue Beach, where, at 9am, people were already picnicing and sunbathing.

And over at North Avenue Beach, heading south towards Oak Street Beach - if you ever saw the movie "The Break-up", this is where they shot that 10 seconds of Jennifer Aniston running.

How I only noticed this today, I have no idea - apparently someone thought it would be an AWESOME idea to put fake palm trees all along Oak Street Beach. Which is great because A.) Clearly my tax dollars are HARD.AT.WORK. and B) If I wanted to see fake shit, like faces, boobies and personalities, I would live in LA. What a mess.

Run done - 10 miles in the books. I actually felt great, so I suspect the harsh face is because I was being followed by about 10 cars and three men on foot for my parking space at Montrose Beach. Oh - this entire area was like a clusterfuck since 7am. I so wish I was kidding. I had never seen anything like it, and hope never to again. Then, as I pull out of the space, one guy stands in the middle of it (as if to save it) while another guy tries to pull his car in. I pull away just as the fracas breaks out. Ahhhh - ain't this country grand?

It's parade time!!!! I met up with Bridget and Baby Terry (who was sporting one of his mother's creations unbeknownst to Papa Joe) His shirt read: "My momma's for Obama"

"But my papa's for McCain." Guess whose house I DON'T want to live in come November.

And look who joined the fun!!!! It's my sister Ellie and Baby Nolan! Could not just eat this picture up?

What an awesome picture!

In his jarbled baby talk, Nolan was asking "Hey, when do they start throwing candy at you?" I was confused until - I'll be darned - they really DID throw candy at you! Which was great, what with my diet and all - but you can bet you mortgage on me snapping up some Sweet Tarts and Tootsie Rolls. Hey, I ran 10 miles - give a girl a break.

And of course, what is a Fourth of July parade without a camel? No seriously - WTF? The best part is the sign for Happy Foods, which was out local mom-n-pop grocery store before the whole Jewel thing. I have many a fond memory of the Happy Foods.

And here we are - me, Ellie and Nolan. Okay - off to the BBQ and then the Sox game!

Fallen

In the rare, rare moments of candidness and lucidty during his illness, my dad would make brief mention of his fear. When asked for his thoughts in these moments, he would say:

“When a clown leaves the circus, it’s not the circus he misses – it’s the other clowns.”

And throughout the six months of his illness, these “clowns” came out in droves. After more then 30 years on the police force, he had made his share of friends and admirers. It became very clear, very fast, that my dad’s life, identity and existence was tied up in his status of a Chicago police captain.

What I learned during this time, more than any other time in my dad’s life, was the type of family police officers are. They were the ones calling to “shoot the shit” at 6am, and the ones who knew all about the details of us kids and our accomplishments more than we did. They were the ones with whom my dad spent 20 hours of his days. And for old schoolers like my dad, they worked with each other not for five or ten years, but twenty or thirty years. These guys were more brothers to my father than his own might have been.

And on early Wednesday morning, in Chicago, one of his brothers – one of the closest and longest known to him – was killed in an on-duty incident. Apparently he was shot in the head when trying to stop a disturbance on Belmont. From what is known now, a woman (possibly homeless) was causing a disturbance, and when my dad’s friend approached her, she grabbed his gun from him and pulled the trigger.

He was 60, and one year short of retirement. He has almost three decades on the job. He worked next to my dad in the 18th district for innumerable years, and then next to my dad on all of my dad’s side jobs for almost two decades. Because I often worked at these side jobs too throughout high school, college and grad school, I spent many-a-summer with this man.

When my dad was sick, this man was at out many morning a week, just to sit with my dad, share time with hear, hear another one of my dad’s famous stories, and do just what police officers do for each other in the time of tragedy – sit, listen, support.

This is one of those moments when you feel pissed for the injustice, sad for his family – biological and police- and their loss, and hopeful, because you can just see him sitting up with my dad “shooting the shit” like they did in my dad’s office, and cruising the Heaven version of EBay for sports memorabilia. Just like the old crew did.

But mostly, it just kinda sucks – the randomness and senselessness of it all.

I have no real profound thoughts on this.

It just is.

Two-Post Kinda Day

I can't seem to shake that run today.

By the time I got home, I was pretty salty. As in, my mood - not what was pouring from my dehydrated skin. Although, come to think of it, it could be both.

I keep going over and over in my mind what went wrong - wrong time of the day (11am), weather (stupid hot, humid and sunny), or something else I am not factoring into the mix.

But it pretty much set the tone for a what-would-become a very angry type of day.

OH! OH! OH!

I have NO IDEA how I ever forgot to tell this story, especially because it happened about two weeks ago, but I was reminded of it today. So gather around the old fan (I have no AC) and let me tell ya a little diddy.

About two weeks ago, I was crossing Sheridan Road, leaving the beach and walking the three blocks home. Just before I stepped into the street, a BMW with a man driver and a blond female passenger crossed my path.

Now, I was right where Sheridan Road curves into Main Street in Evanston, so as I walk across the street, their car takes the curve and they are basically parellel to me and I head east on Main.

All of the sudden, I hear the man driver screaming, "Nicole, come on! Come on Nicole! Nicole! Don't do this!"

And OF COURSE I'm gonna stare.

Have you met me?

Turns out that, as they made the turn, the blond (Nicole, I guess?) was trying to jump out of the car.

As it was moving.

Bitch was trying to jump out of a moving car!!!

Like in the movies!

But without the cameras!

And the guy just keeps screaming instead of just pulling over and stopping.

Well, eventually he does, she jumps out and start walking back the way they came. He drives up to the corner and parks, and I could see him trying to make a call on the cell phone.

Odd, he didn't, like, chase after her or anything. He just sort of sat there in his car while crazy-car-jumping girl walked home.

Well, maybe not so weird.

Because in my opinion, if I was dating someone crazy enough to actually try to jump out of a car, not only would I LET him, but I would hit the gas HARD and get the eff out of there before he could get my license plate number.

'Cause that?

That is shit-nuts crazy.

And what reminded me of this cute little story today, of all days?

This afternoon, I was driving to my office and in front of the Starbucks, a man was sitting in his car, opened his door, leaned out, and threw up.

I know, RIGHT?

Moral of the stories?

People do some weird things in their cars.....

Sigh.

I feel oddly better now....

Checklist

Things seen on the Chicago lakefront during my long run (attempt):

1. The backs of a family of four pedaling one of those bike-made-for-four (as they passed me).

2. A girl running with a full face of make-up (hey, I'll all about looking cute out there, but make up? No joke that it was like, 90 and humid. Too bad I didn't stay out there long enough to see her on the turn around - I bet that shit would have looked AWESOME when it melted down her face).

3. Girls running in pants (see aforementioned comment).

4. Life guards - now that's the kind of job I need - stand around, looking bored while getting a great tan and people watching. It's genuis.

5. A woman riding a bike in her bikini. Now, here's the thing - I may or may not have used my bikini for alternative purposes (i..e. underwear) at various times in my life, but I can securely say I have never doubled it as workout gear. Seriously, people. And ever notice that, while in, say, South Beach, the women doing this are like these hot Brazilian model types with big fake boobs and long flowing hair. But alas, here at Oak Street Beach in Chicago, they're all like 65, wrinkly and leatherly with stringy white hair and God only knows what the waxing situation might be. Ah, life. So unfair to the eyes sometimes.

6. Dads pushing strollers or riding bikes with their offspring. Yeah....I have no sarcastic comment for this one - in fact, it pretty much warmed my stone cold heart. Good stuff.

7. Lots and lots of campers - as in, the 5-8 year olds and their counselors heading to the beach. Ah, I remember the days of my Chicago Park District free summer camps excursions. My mom used to pack our lunches in brown bags 'cause we were, well, broke, and she would wrap our soda in tin foil, as if to try and keep it cold when it was 98 degrees and we were forced to walked three miels in the blistering sun to the Gompers Pool. Oddly, it never did keep the soda cold, and the heavy can always smashed the bag of Fritos and the PB&J sandwich so all the jelly squished out of the sides.

8. The Summer catalog model crew for Abercrombie and Fitch - and not becuase I was looking, but because all eight of them seemed to miss the yellow divider line on the running/biking path by North Avenue beach, so they put their four brain cells together and took up the ENTIRE path, northbound and southbound. Sigh. It must be nice to be good looking and unaccountable for your stupidity.


And do you know what all of these people saw in return?


1. A bright-pink-faced, 30-something year old who was gasping for air, taking periodic walk breaks and yet still getting slower with each 1/2 mile, but was at least smart enough to leave all her IM-labled stuff at home so as not to tarnish the reputation of race accomplishment by her embarressment of a run today.


So, uh, yeah.

I guess that means that jokes on me.