Spit it Out

People, we have a situation.

It's dire.

It's critical.

It's ridiculous.

I have been briefed of said situation by a secret, covert informant and specially trained operative that chooses to keep his/her identity anonymous.

Ok.

It is my mother.

She mentioned to me, in casual passing, that there is a grave uncertainty out there.

A frightening misunderstanding taking place.

It is a frank, misguided perception that I must address.

So, here goes.

You don't have to have anything funny, clever, insightful, interesting to say if you'd like to make a comment on a blog post.

And, you don't even have to say much of anything to have made a difference.

There. I've said it. It's out there.

The dossier on the situation illuminated the gravity, the enormity, of the falsehood to which my readers have fallen prey. There is a painful, inappropriate, extraordinary pressure to say something witty in the comment box. To share your personal identity with the Internet. To willingly, to knowingly, reveal your innermost thoughts and feelings to those out there that you can't see.

I assure you.

That is not true.

A comment on a blog post can be as short, insignificant, or silly as, "Hi. Bye. -Jane Doe"

Or, "You're funny." Or, "You're not funny." Or, "You're right." Or, "You're wrong."

Or even, "You're my niece." Or, "You're my tennis partner's daughter." Or, "You're my high school classmate's eldest."

Why does it have to be all about me?

Turn that little comment on a dime. Tell me about you! I'd love to hear it.

And, come on. If you're being honest, you want to talk about yourself! Go on! Do it!

I dare you.

It's freeing, I tell you.

AND. The catch is, you don't even have to sign your name.

I know! Right?

So easy.

Here's a little Commenting 101 lesson for you.

Free of charge.

I know. Too kind.

First, you click here below the post where you see this (shown here in Exhibit A as "2 comments" in that red hyperlink. A hyperlink is a lesson for another day, but really it means it is words that actually DO something. Take you somewhere. I know. Contain your excitement. Anyway, click on the "X comments" link that looks like this:


Then, you get a new window, where this will be off to the right of the existing blog comments (those brave souls who have gone before you).


That's where you can:

• Say hello. I even gave you a few entry lines above.


• Criticize, disagree with or just plain be mean to me.*


• Chime in on what you've just read.


• Challenge me in a debate, an argument, a discussion or a duel.


• Wax poetically about your current passion, your lifelong dreams, or the one that got away.


• Get off your chest that one big secret that you've been carrying. Yes, that one.


• Share with the world that THING that you've been dying to say, but are too shy to shout at work.


• Justify your existence. Make a name for yourself!


• Or just drop your name, so I know you've been there. It's like the guest book at a huge wedding.

See? Lots of choices.

*That last part, while welcome due to the First Amendment, isn't ideal. It hurts my feelings if you're rude. Especially if you do so anonymously. Have a little backbone! Step up to it, and own your feelings Anonymous! And, frankly, I'm pretty aware I'm not always funny. Or witty. Or trying to be a New York Times columnist or a novelist or even a real professional writer. I'm just writing a blog. Which equates to an online, public diary of sorts. So there's no need to get feisty or mean or anything. But, I can accept it if your comment needs to argue with me, disagree with my thoughts or dissuade public opinion. I welcome the opportunity to start a real debate, here. It may even force me to step up my game.

Ok. After you've typed in your deepest desires, or your latest thought, you'll see this:


And that's where the computer asks you to type in the funky, twisted, auto-generated letters that appear in a random, non-Webster's Dictionary way to prove you're a human being. If you're a dog, and you've made it this far in the process, more power to you.

Then, you'll see this below it:


And that's where you get to OWN your thought. It's powerful. It's like the proverbial soapbox on the campus quad. Step right up, shout it out, and own it. Leave your calling card. Ask for questions. You know you want to. Choose your identity? How empowering is that?!?

The computer will allow you to enter your comment Anonymously (it's the one that is marked Anonymous, so cleverly), or with an account that you may have already (do you have a Gmail account? If so, use that!) or don't have but can set up, or don't want to bother with, so you can just leave it under Anonymous and then sign your name (I'm talking to you, Dad). This whole Anonymous thing is so underrated. It's like getting something for nothing! Who doesn't like that? I won't go as far as saying it's like seeing your name in lights, but you get to be a part of cyber-history.

I know. It all sounds so complicated.

This is the easy part. Two buttons. You make WAY harder choices than that just leaving the house in the morning. I hope.

You'll see this:


And, you'll choose one. You can preview, just to self-censor or spellcheck your reply, or you can just throw caution to the wind and pick that crazy, wild orange one on the left that just PUBLISHES your comment.

See?

So freeing.

And now you can't play the whole "I don't know HOW to post a comment on Colleen's blog" card. That excuse is no longer welcome here. The dog may have eaten your homework, and you may have lost the girl's number, or dropped your cell phone in the toilet, but the instructions are here.

I know. The men that read this aren't still reading it because it included instructions.

Sorry, Uncle Terry. It was only a joke! That will only offend you if you're still reading, and if that's the case, I was so wrong about you and all of mankind.

You can do it. If you've made it this far, then I beg you. Urge you. Pleading with you.

Leave a comment.

It'll make me happy.

And it didn't cost you anything but the 1:49 of time that it took you to read this post. Let's be honest, you waited longer than that for the coffee pot to stop brewing before you could pour your coffee this morning. Or the Starbucks barista to hand it to you.

It's your right, privilege and duty. Stand up and be counted!

At the very least. Do it for me.

It's good for my ego. And, then my Mom can consider this Mission Accomplished.

(Deer Lake Tennis Team, Tim's Mom in Wisconsin, Stranger in Van Nuys, O'Brien Siblings, SJA Class of '69, Random People of the World, I'm talking to you! You are valued readers and I'd love to hear what you think.)

Thanks. You've made my day. Don't say I never taught you anything.

New Year, New Blog Home

Welcome to my new home! If you are joining me from my other blog, "Chicago Commuter Commentary," then I welcome you with open arms, and appreciate you following me all the way over here to "Long Story Short..."

I look forward to connecting with new readers, and to re-connecting with my beloved followers. To explain the move over here I provide you with the below explanation. And, this is to reassure you travelers who joined me from my other blog home that you've found the right place.

Welcome home.

I have always been a storyteller.

It started when I was young, and would tell and retell stories to anyone who would sit still long enough to listen.

As I got older, and my friendships grew deeper, my girls would laugh and listen and provide me with an attentive audience for my stories. However, they noticed quickly that if distracted, or inspired, I would travel off track of the original story to embellish a detail or to expand on a part of the side or back story that, in my mind, allowed the listener a broader and more thorough understanding of the main story. They immediately tagged me a "backtracker" who often got so off track that I had trouble finding my way back to the gist.

They were wrong, however.

I could always, given the chance, find my way back to the intended story, and felt that the level of details only improved their listening experience. In order to keep the stories on track, and to a reasonable length of telling, they teasingly granted me two "backtracks" per story.

I insist that these limitations don't do much for the quailty of my stories, but I must trust my audience and grant them that much at least. I also must recognize that my friends are heavy talkers too, and often stop or stall the story midway through to tell their side, their point of view or their recollection of said incident. My one friend, who knows who she is, always listened intently without interruption, and rarely received much acclaim in this area - except for a knowing glance from me.

As I got even older, and learned the art of storytelling requires the creation of a true two-way street, or a dialogue, I realized that the storyteller must also be a good listener, asking questions of the audience. This communication skill has served me well in both my personal and professional life. I would hope that my friends would recognize that I'm not a belligerent talker, but rather I create a conversation through my stories.

It hasn't ever hurt that I have a good memory, and can often recall a story with incredible detail and recognition, but this too has changed as I have aged. I sometimes now forget the details and require some assistance in my storytelling. The stories can get long, albeit not arduous (I hope!) and my friends have requested that I re-tell the same story often to spark a laugh, a conversation or to relive a moment we had previously shared.

I will admit one thing, though. I must.

My stories are long. Like my blog posts. If you've been reading for some time, I have a way of describing something so it really digs into the truth, or the details, in order to convey a feeling, an observation or a moment of time.

This situation has created a silly little habit. I often find myself saying, "long story short..." before I continue.

It never really is.

I admit it, and am willing to take the blame.

And, use this habit as the segue into this newly re-located, newly re-named blog.

I designed my own header because I believe captures very much the truth of who I am. Featured above, it shows an open book (because I am, and I am also a lover of words, writing, reading and everything book-related), a photo of Chicago (because so many of my stories include her as a central character), a photo of me (because really, it's all about my point of view) and a peach on the vine (which demonstrates that I haven't lost, or forgotten, my Georgia roots).

New year, new job, new blog.

A fresh start.

Please update your bookmarks to reflect this change, tell fellow readers about the move and visit me here as often as you like. I look forward to a shorter, more concise URL and a new home for my future stories.

With limited backtracks, I hope.

Published!

I totally missed it, but looky here, people.

When I was feeling particularly broke, desperate and creative one day, I responded to a Craigslist ad that mentioned paying people for blog rants.

Uh, Craigslist?

I've got a blog here, and I'm pretty sure I could dig up some posts that qualify as rants.

So, I went to the site, RantBlogger and submitted a fair amount of old posts. And, I got an email response confirming that I was the author, that they were true stories, and that I was comfortable with being paid for a post.

Uh, RantBlogger?

Yes. Please.

So, I have been waiting, watching and curiously checking back on the site to see if it ever got published.

Nada.

Until today. I just saw this.

Apparently I missed it from last week. So, here it is. Enjoy.

And, do me a favor. Comment on it? Show me some RantBlogger love? And maybe berate the gross guy (who is misusing the Tribune site) who commented on it?

Thanks. And, yes, this really did happen to me. I wrote about it way back when.

Men amaze me. And not always in the good way.

Year in Review

Just like the TVs and magazines do, I'm using today's post to reflect on and share my highlights from 2008.

I have definitely had loads of fun with plenty of laughs, miles traveled and experiences shared. I will also link you to my best blog of the month, in my own opinion (and influenced by your comments).

Enjoy!

Colleen's Best of 2008:

January
I started the year by beginning a new relationship, which always sets things in a good light. Brett and I had our first official date (Bulls Game) on January 9th, and we're still enjoying getting to know each other. I also met his family pretty soon after in celebration of his Dad's birthday, and it has been a pleasure getting acquainted with them, too.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one about the Vagina Couch.

February
This month brought the end of an era: Then Again, the local cover band who has been a staple in my social life (and that of Kristen, Laura, Jill, etc.) for several years now retired. Mandi even came to town for their last show, and it was an absolute riot. My girls and I also got to see Bon Jovi's concert from the United Center box suite, which was a rockin' good time, too. It snowed a ton this month, so a trip to LA allowed me to celebrate Molly's 30th birthday while escaping the weather.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one about SPAM.

March
As a good Irish girl, of course this month included wild and raucous celebrations for St. Patrick's Day, as only Chicago can do. It also brought my Mom and sister Lauren to town, where we rendezvoused all over town and made our way to a fondue dinner with Brett's entire family, bringing both sides together over melted foods. The snow wasn't melting just yet, though.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one recapping the time I fainted on the El.

April
With the cold days and snow lingering on, Brett and I got creative for our date nights, including an Olympic-sized trip to Dave and Busters that resulted in an Olympic-length blog. We also saw Seinfeld live at the Chicago Theatre and I started a painting class with Katie and presented at the Direct Marketing Association's International Marketing Exchange, both activities which brought out skills I didn't know I had before.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one Celebrating my Dad for his birthday. At least he thought so.

May
With (slightly) warmer temps, we made our way to several Cubs games, and I participated in a charity walk for the American Cancer Society with a team of strong and resilient women. The summer of Wonderful Trips began with a long Memorial Day Weekend in Michigan capped off by the final planning for the Costa Rica trip. We were now counting down the DAYS not months!

The best blog of the month had to have been the one honoring my Mom for Mother's Day. At least she thought so. (I'm seeing a trend, here).

June
Without a doubt, the headline for this month is COSTA RICA! The Posse, the Men and Brett and I had a wonderful time in the land of Pura Vida. The rest of the month was filled with booze cruises, Kristen and Katie's birthday parties, beach volleyball and trying to stop myself from daydreaming about Imperials on the beach in Jaco.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one about fighting urges.

July
This month was busy, and included several more trips back to Michigan, most notably for Jill and Josh's Wedding in Mackinac Island. I also hosted Jenny, a 20-year bestest, and Brittany, Katie and I dragged our guys to see Feist at Ravinia in the Park. The weather was perfect, and summer was in full swing.

The best blog of the month had to have been the sensitive one about a friend's stepmother who is ill, putting everything in perspective.

August
As is typical, this month was full of fun outdoor activities, such as Lollapalooza, Camping in Northern Michigan, the Air & Water Show, and my cousin Maureen's gorgeous wedding in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco over the long Labor Day weekend. I had a minor flood from the condo upstairs' renovation, but I survived. All in all, a fantastic end to a Summer to Remember. Time for college football to begin!

The best (or most popular) blog of the month was clearly the one about the half of a $20 bill I somehow ended up with. (It is still in my wallet).

September
Besides my Georgia Bulldogs starting the season at #1 (which sadly, was short-lived), this was the month of weddings. Starting with my cousin's, I then attended two family-friend weddings with Brett, and we danced, drank and partied with his family and their hilarious friends. Watching the Bears struggle at the end of each game made me realize that you win some, you lose some. I hosted a fantastic Method Party, and went to several Cubs games (back when they still had hope).

Without a doubt, the best blog of the month was the one where my colleague saved a man's life with his ding dong.

October
Starting the month off right, Brett and I went to Atlanta to visit my friends, tour my hometown, and introduce him to my Dad. We had a blast and even saw the Bulldogs win vs. Tennessee, and I got to spend time with most of my Posse and Lauren and George and it was all just perfect. Back in town, we saw a few concerts this month, including TV on the Radio and the Jimi Hendrix Experience. Sadly, though, October will be remembered mostly as the month I was laid off from work and took some time to get over the sadness of it all. Writing this helped.

The best blog, except the one saying goodbye to my job, was the one that recounted my hectic business trip to NYC.

November
We voted this month, and I couldn't have been more proud to live in Chicago—and to have voted for the person I believe in—than now. Braving the cold, we had a huge group tailgate in Evanston for the OSU v. Northwestern game and that day I believed mostly in spiked apple cider and pocket-sized hand warmers. I interviewed like mad for a few weeks and was supremely motivated in the job search. I was still optimistic that something would hit before Thanksgiving.

The best blog, from a writer's perspective, must've been the one where I moped about being unemployed.

December
The month has been busy personally, not professionally, and I have used my extra time to play Santa and an Elf, get creative with my job search, spike more apple cider, plan Brett's 30th birthday party and use frequent flier miles to book an obscenely early in the morning flight to Atlanta for Christmas (I missed all delays at ORD, it was a Christmas miracle!) There are group plans in the works for New Year's Eve that include a party at a warehouse that used to be Al Capone's speakeasy in the 20s, so I'm busting out the costume bin to find my flapper gear once again. And, I'm still braving the cold and wind to revel in the gorgeous holiday decorations that this city sports this time of year.

The best blog of this month is likely the one where I fought off a reality TV producer who wanted to audition me for a show he was doing. I don't make this stuff up. Apparently my relationship status as of late rendered me unacceptable casting; not that I was actually considering it. Unless they'd pay me. Right?

Thanks for a wonderful year. I'm a tad choked up just thinking about all of what I've experienced in 2008.

A year of ups, downs, awards, loss, laughs, cries, memories, music, challenges, new friends, old friends, family, love and 220 blog posts.

You've been a fantastic crowd, and I hope you'll join me in the new year as I tackle 2009 (and all that comes with that) head on.

Until then,

Happy New Year!

MeMeMeMe Meme

Not feeling much like this today, but isn't a good laugh contagious?
Because my mind is otherwise full today and I have no stories and I didn't do anything interesting last night and everyone has been well-behaved on the bus and I can't possibly be funny and you don't really want to hear about everything else that is going on, instead I'll take the cop-out that was handed to me.

I'll respond to a Meme that I was tagged for by Robyn who is the sister of a friend of mine here in Chicago. Robyn and her husband are living in Johannesburg, South Africa, and her blog (and her life!?) is really interesting.

Can you imagine? And I thought the trek from Atlanta to Chicago was far.

I'm certain that I'm supposed to tag other readers/bloggers to do this, too, but I'm not feeling like pressuring others to do it, so I'll just serve up myself today. Consider it 20 little mini-stories brought to you by Colleen.

Anyhoo, here's the Meme, and my could-possibly-be-lame-but-I-am-trying answers:

1. What are your nicknames?
Coll, Clean, Cleaner, Limpia (the Spanish word for Clean), Colon (which sadly digressed into Colon Blow in H.S. from the SNL commercial for the high fiber cereal, go figure) and Colleener Machiner. Oh, and for some strange reason my sister calls me Boppo.

2. What game show and/or reality show would you like to be on?
American Idol, oh wait, I can't sing. Top Design, but oh wait, I only watch design shows, I'm not a designer. America's Next Top Model, but not because I have any false impression of being a size 0 or 19 years old or anorexic, but because I think the makeup looks cool and I'd love to see how it all goes behind the scenes. So, since I've waffled and denied any chance of appearing on those three, let's go with Divine Design. Candice Olsen is a goddess, and I'd love to see how she'd manage small urban spaces.

3. What was the first movie you bought in VHS or DVD?
I can't recall which one I first bought, so here's a random few "firsts" as it relates to movies. The first movie I saw in the theater was E.T., and apparently the opening forest scene scared me so much I wanted to go home. Afterwards, of course, I had an E.T. t-shirt, necklace and the ugliest stuffed animal you've ever seen. The first movie I remember really watching over and over was Girls Just Want to Have Fun with Sarah Jessica Parker. I just wished and hoped I went to a Catholic school so I could wear a plaid skirt and rip it off to reveal something much funkier and cooler underneath. Dork. The first movie I ever snuck off to see without my parents knowing was Top Gun. It was PG-13, I think, and I was only 11. The horror! (Maybe they wanted to protect me against hearing bad 80s music like Berlin?)

4. What is your favorite scent?
A good men's cologne, used sparingly.

5. If you had a million dollars that you could only spend on yourself, what would you do with it?
I'd have to pay off all debts for me and my family, and then I'd travel. I'd try to write/photograph it so at least the feeling of wealth (and money-making) could last...

6. What one place have you visited that you can't forget and want to go back to?
Vernazza, Italy. A charming little cliffside town on the Mediterranean in the Cinque Terra region. It was magical.

7. Do you trust easily?
Yes, too much so. My blog is probably evidence #1 of that.

8. Do you think before you act, or act before you think?
Oh how I'd love to commit one way or another for this one, but I think it depends. What a wuss answer. I think first when it has consequence, and act first if it is frivolous and something that won't cause harm. Unless you count retail therapy - then there is no thinking whatsoever.

9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days?
Besides the obvious politically correct answer of the economy, War, obnoxious election ads and poverty, I think that back pain and communication challenges are the only answers.

10. Do you have a good body image?
Uh, who does all the time? I feel ok sometimes and lousy sometimes. I'm a woman, that's what we do.

11. What is your favorite fruit?
Kiwi, if someone else will peel and slice it for me since I mangle it while trying. Or pineapple, on the side of a drink. Or strawberries, on top of cheesecake. Or raspberries, drizzled in chocolate. Am I off track here?

12. What websites do you visit daily?
Yahoo Mail, CNN, ESPN (during college football season), my blog and top 5 blog roll sites

13. What have you been seriously addicted to lately?
College football, Divine Design (see above) and Samantha Brown's Passport to Europe.

14. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
I don't know Robyn, but if her sister is any indication, I bet she is funny, pretty, spirited, smart, passionate and interesting. With a great laugh and a fabulous head of curls.

15. What's the last song that got stuck in your head?
Psycho Killer by the Talking Heads. It's a long story.

16. What's your favorite item of clothing?
A hot black v-neck 3/4 sleeve knee-length dress from Kenneth Cole that I bought for a special occasion. I felt sexy and it was a great night. Can't bring myself to "dress it down" and wear it anywhere else, like the sales guy promised I could, for fear of ruining the memory of that evening.

17. Do you think Rice Krispies are yummy?
Only when combined with melted marshmallows.

18. What would you do if you saw $100 lying on the ground?
Look left. Look right. Look left. Look right. "Attempt" to find owner. Shrug shoulders. Put it in pocket. Buy a handbag. (Incidentally, something like this happened when I was only like 6 - in the grocery store with my mom - and I believe it was a $50. I gave it to my mom. Not sure what happened with that cash, but I don't recall ending up with a new handbag.)

19. What items could you not go without during the day?
My computer, my cell phone, lipstick, powder and a ponytail holder. Color me a vain tech whore.

20. What should you be doing right now?
Working. Duh.

The Keyboard is Mightier than the Sword

Sometimes the lessons in life teach you only what you already knew but hadn't yet admitted to yourself.

I re-learned one again last week, and figured I'd share it with you. This blog has served a great purpose in my life. I have always known I loved to write. I've been a voracious reader my entire life, and have a serious appreciation for talented writers. I don't consider myself a "writer" per se, but I do enjoy greatly the satisfaction of putting words to thoughts, pen to paper and, more frequently, typed words to a cyber page.

When Doogie Howser used to type away in his computer-journal, I was jealous. Yes, even back then. I'd never been very good at keeping up with a daily written journal, and I never got into the "keep one in a word document on your computer" thing, despite having tried it in college. But I really wanted to be the type of person who would journal. Not the "I am happy today" or "I like so-and-so this week" kind of things, but the observances and stories of life. I wish I had stacks of weathered old journals of creative and not-so-creative writing hidden in my closet.

But, alas, that's not me.

Blogging, though, has proven to be the spark that I needed to energize the wordsmith in me. The creative juices were there, but needed to be nurtured. Given a place to stretch out and grow stronger. The writing that I wasn't doing for work anymore (which is a sign that I'm now at an agency where they employ truly gifted creative/corporate communications writers to do those things) created a gap in my brain that went unfilled for over a year. I was missing something. I didn't even know that it was a lack of an outlet for a true creative expression until I began to jot and blog about things that made me laugh.

At the beginning, this blog was just that. A place to tell the stories that happened to me as I explored and experienced Chicago from a commuter's perspective. More precisely, the hilarious and ridiculous incidents that occurred on public transportation, or in cabs, as I made my way through life in Chicago. Hence, the highly un-clever, highly tongue-twisterish name.

But, as time went on, I realized that there were far funnier things that happened, and more frequently too, that didn't have anything to do with commuting. It felt like there had to be a way to infuse the two ideas together—basically, I'm a Chicagoan, I'm a Commuter, and I have a Commentary on a few things. Hey—that still works!

So, I began to write. I began to feel the stories bubble to the top of my consciousness. I looked at the world around me differently, through a lens of a creative writer, a recorder of events, a commentator on all things possible. It opened up the entire city (and my life in general) to a new perspective, and a new outlet for storytelling, which is the entire point of this. I knew that I was a storyteller—I've blogged many times about how my 20+ year friendships have thrived on them teasing me for my backtracks, my segues and my long-windedness. But, I loved it. It gave me a forum in which to tell my stories. Alone, and without censorship or interruptions.

While I knew that going in people would read this, or at least I hoped, I wasn't quite expecting the viral connectivity that results from having your thoughts "out there" in cyberspace. I didn't realize that so many people would literally stumble upon my page, and therefore, into my life, by merely searching out keywords, topics or by clicking other people's blogrolls of authors they like. I knew that my mother would pass it on to her neighbors, that my sister would share it with her friends, that my father would share it with his family, and that my colleagues would soon find out about it. I knew all of that, but the reality of it is entirely different.

Now, people are actually bookmarking my words? Referring to them daily as a source of laughter, amusement, or to satisfy a simple curiosity or fill a bored moment in time? Wow. That's entirely different. And, I realized that some level of censorship MUST happen as I detail the events of my life, and the events of those I am fortunate enough to meet along the way. I respected people's inherent privacy issues and need for some boundaries. I use first names only wherever required, and always let someone know that the story will be told. The intimacies are left off the table, and the details are only there when needed to fully elucidate my point. All in all, people are proud to be included, as you can see in some of the blog comments that feature phrases like "blog mention!" by the said mentioned friend. They love it, and so do I.

I also, however, have learned the consequences of doing so in a public forum such as this. I wasn't quite prepared.

The good news is that of the reactions I've received, 99.9% of them have been positive, rewarding, encouraging and supportive. Last week, however, proved to me that when you put yourself out there, sometimes the feedback isn't so pretty.

I received a comment on a post last week, that I have reproduced below that made me feel so differently about this whole blog thing that I needed a few days to calm down. I was hurt, ticked off and, sadly, I allowed it to "get to me" for a few days. I must credit my sister, and my dear friends Liz and Jenny for taking my side (atta girls!) and for believing in me enough to bolster me back up and kick me up onto the horse again. And, publishing their support of me. As they should. Thank God for old friends, right?

The comment in question was this:

Anonymous said...
You know, I've read a few entries on your blog due to the link on Facebook. I'm not sure if there's an actual theme anymore and I'm not sure why people keep a blog who don't have a purpose for it. Saying that, there's a difference between snarky in a clever way (i.e., gawker.com) and being judgmental and critical in a way that's not particularly funny. I think your recent entries seem to have tones of superiority and are less about laughing at you than laughing at others. I suppose I should stop reading it. July 2, 2008 3:29 PM

Now, on some levels, I do hate to give this Anonymous (read: wimpy) reader and commenter any more credit, or time in the spotlight, than he/she likely deserves. I resent the rude nature of the opinion; however, I know that it is just that. ONE OPINION. What burns me up the most is the sheer refusal to a) own up to his/her identity, giving me some sense of where he/she is coming from and b) the complete lack of understanding that I believe is demonstrated in this comment.

First of all, if you found my link on Facebook, then that means you're one of my listed "Friends." I don't befriend strangers, and therefore, the author of the comment is someone that I know. At least, it is someone that I used to know. It could be a high school friend, a childhood friend, a past work acquaintance, a Chicago friend, a relative, a college buddy or a sorority sister. Wherever he/she came from, I wish he/she would have come all the way forward. Give me a name so I can at least respect your opinion.

Secondly, the author clearly is a blog rookie. An amateur. A blog, as my friend Liz put it, is a place for an "author" (word used loosely) to express opinions, thoughts, stories or comments about things that interest him or her. In this case, I am the vulnerable one, but also I am the one that is brave enough to go there.

My blog is my place to share my opinions and my stories in my voice in my tone and with my choice of words and pictures. Note the repeated use of "my." Yes, this is my forum. If you don't like it, Anonymous, then don't read. I appreciate the free speaking nature of this world where you can express your thoughts to someone else, and be heard for it, but I resent the fact that you come to this forum in an uneducated manner.

While I can't respond to the "tone" comment he/she made (because that is his/her opinion), and I'm sorry if the humor I expressed (or at least attempted to express) was lost on the reader.

I can say this, though: the "theme" of this blog has been explained. I'm a Chicagoan. I'm a Commuter. And I'm Commenting. Period. The "theme" has not changed. The course of my life has expanded the breadth of topics that fall into my commenting scope, and therefore, the range of issues/stories I discuss has reached beyond simply the CTA. Besides, there is only so much you can say about crazy cab drivers, broken down busses, loud passengers, rude people, trains and planes. Right? I refuse to defend for one more moment why my blog discusses what my blog discusses.

Let's move on, shall we?

The beauty of our world is this: I can write what I want, when I want, and I can publish it here for free. Who reads it is another story. I hope that my true readers (I shall not use the word "fans" for fear of sounding any more superior than my Anonymous commenter already has accused me of) will continue to support me and provide me with the fodder, the fun and the foundation from which I write.

And, if I can make at least one person smile today, isn't that enough?

The Hits Keep Coming

While I was out celebrating summer in the city, something incredible happened.

My blog site counter passed 10,000 hits.

Yay me! And, more appropriately, yay you.

Thanks to all of my family, friends and all of you fabulous strangers for continuing to indulge me, create with me, support me, learn about me, encourage me, read me, laugh with me, and most accurately, laugh AT me.

This wacky Internet thing really may catch on, huh?

Back to Reality

I've been back from Costa Rica for four days now, and have already worked two full days in the office, and it is really much harder to get back into the swing of things than I expected.

When you spent a week with your best friends and cute boyfriend staring at sights like the one shown above (Jaco beach), it is terribly painful to go back to stuff like client service, responding to emails, business meetings and account billing.

And, unfortunately, blogging.

So, bear with me, and I'll be back in no time to update you all on the fabulous stories (or the highlight reel) from the trip. Trust me, if the sheer volume of photos is any indication, you'll want the highlights only. Our full album has in excess of 700 photos in it. The country is just far too beautiful to edit or delete.

Until then...

take a deep breath, and think about the sound of the ocean.

It's helped me immensely.

When that fails to do the trick, try a margarita.

Roll Call (a.k.a. Commentapalooza)

Hey everyone,

I know this sounds very self-serving, and it just might be. Lately, I've noticed my sitemeter count is up to more than 8,000 hits. And those can't all be my Mom.

And, at a recent networking event and a social event and a company meeting, people have mentioned reading the blog. So, what I'm putting out there is this.

A favor. I know, I know. On a Friday, even.

If you visit, stop by, or linger and stay awhile, do you mind leaving me a comment, just to let me know you're here? It isn't a way of me pulling a Big Brother, but on the contrary. More of a "who's who" of the visitors. If you want to remain anonymous, by all means.

It's like the guest book at a wedding. The bride and groom know who they invited. They may have even stopped by your table to greet you. They saw the photos of the reception. And laughed at the drunk uncle or the scantily clad cousin. But it can never hurt to see the names of those who attended in writing, documented forever in the cheesy white padded puffy guest book now, can it?

But, please don't stress yourself out by thinking "I can only comment if I have something witty to say." Not at all. Here, I'll do YOU a favor and provide you with some standard auto-fill comments you can cut and paste into yours next time you drop by.

Sample "generic" comments

• Hey Colleen! Signed, X


• Boo! It's X.


• Gotcha! Tag, you're it. From, X.


• Your blog is fun. Best, X.


• This blog sucks. No love from, X.


• Who cares about that topic? Sincerely, X.


• Go back to your real job. Seriously, X.


• Can we get a new header? Bored, X.


• Why the funky thumbnail profile headshot? Over it, X.


• I'm your secret admirer. Openly, X.


• I know you. I'm X.


• I've never met you. Hello, my name is X.

Ok. See? Not so hard.

This presumes I have a lot of fans, friends or foes named X, but go with it. Heck, you can even tell me where you are visiting from. Or how you found me (I don't read those sitemeter reports all that closely). Or, that you think I should stay off the Internet to spare you any more pain. I'm fine with that.

You're on. Comment away!

Geniunely,

Colleen

I'm It

I've been tagged by a great blogger that brings me joy every day along with my daily coffee.

Paige lives in Philadelphia, but something tells me that if she lived in Chicago, I'd be sharing that coffee with her in the morning. Sitting across from her, telling rambling (yet directional!) stories that are colorful, filled with details and transport the listener to an actual place in time, with real-life events dictacting the fabric of who we are today as grown women. In fact, Paige, consider that an invitation.

My office building is above a Starbucks, so that should narrow it down should you come to Chicago to find me. The latte is on me.

What is a tag, you ask? Apparently in this cyberworld, it is the equivalent of the childhood game, yet there are more complete instructions than "go run wildly across the street while hollering 'You're it!' at the top of your lungs."

What's a meme, you ask? According to dictionary.com, a meme is a noun that means a cultural unit (an idea or pattern of behavior) that is passed from one person to another by non-genetic means. Whew. I'm glad it isn't going to be found in my DNA. That would be awkward.

Anyway, the meme that I've been tagged for is: Six Quirky Things About Me. I know you may have just read 87 Things About Me so forgive me for the self-revelations and introspection theme I have going here.

Here are the rules to the meme put out there by Paige.

Rules:
* Link to the person that tagged you.
* Post the rules on your blog.
* Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
* Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
* Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

So, here goes. Unveiling the quirkiness that makes me who I am. And, quite often, makes my friends laugh really hard at me.

1. I am terrified of snakes, in a really unhealthy, abnormal and irrational way. I didn't grow up in a rainforest, didn't have a huge backyard, and never have had a bad experience with one of the slithery fellas. Just don't like them. AT ALL. And, to make this phobia even more quirky, I can't look at them on TV (shut my eyes, often screeching) or in a movie (same behavior) or in a book (hid the "S" encyclopedia from myself as a kid). It is terribly inconvenient when your boyfriend likes the Discovery Channel, but he's making do. The trip to Costa Rica in June should be interesting...

2. I have a really good memory for names, faces, places and often, numbers. My friends often joke that I'm the Rain Man. However, this memory fails to capture the stuff from more than about 3 years ago—my college friends tell stories and I'll ask questions and they'll look at me and go, "Uhm, you were there. Wearing a red dress." Okay...I have no choice but to believe them. And, immediately refer back to photo albums to jog my memory.

3. My mother is to blame (or credit) for this one: when it is chilly out, I immediately find myself saying, "BRR." Not as in Brrrrr. As in, B. R. R. My Mom also calls "lipstick" "yips." As in, I've got to put on my yips. I say it too, now, and my friends know what I mean. I know, I'm a 6-year old.

4. I have a very definite morning routine. I do every step in exactly the same order, every day. Shower, moisturizer, dress halfway, foundation, powder, eye makeup, deodorant, brush teeth, dry hair, straighten hair or put it up, finish dressing and accessorize. Breakfast is thrown in the purse to accompany the first cup of coffee (of two) at work. If I mix it up, I inevitably forget something and show up to work with eye makeup on just one eye or sporting just one earring. The pirate look doesn't really do much for me.

5. I am a total creature of habit when it comes to food. I've never had anything at Corner Bakery but the DC's Chicken Salad, and the only sandwich I can claim having tried at Jimmy John's is the BLT, and the Potbelly Chicken Salad is my only experience with that great restaurant chain. I can't help it—I'm of the frame of mind that if it ain't broken, you don't fix it. Don't even get me started on the limited number of side items that have found their way into my purchases. Salt & Vinegar chips? Yes, please.

6. I am obsessed with HGTV, and at any given time, a minimum of 7 episodes of Divine Design are sitting in my Tivo waiting for me to view them. And I do. The disappointing thing is that now, I've seen 'em all. Candice Olson is amazing, and because she doesn't ever really mention budgets, I figure she's spending the big bucks to make the rooms look that good.

The 6 bloggers that I'd love to see complete this meme are: Sarah, Jacyln, Monica, Vicki, Trish, and Natalie. Good luck...finding 6 quirky things that you are willing to reveal about yourself is harder than you think!

Jaclyn and I are In!

I was just perusing the blogs that I visit daily, and saw a post with my name in the headline. I'm famous! Visit Jaclyn's post at Living Without Training Wheels for the original.

The gist is this:

The CTA Wants You! Or, to be more precise, they want US! They're hiring Secret Shoppers to help them improve the service on the CTA, and since she and I both bitch and moan blog about the bus and the train all the time, I think we're primed for the job.

Unless they want someone that won't publish the results. Which, clearly, we're already doing. She even wrote an Ode to the #148 bus, which I find quite amusing. Mine would go something like this, if I were to just put something down without thinking about it at all, or worrying if it rhymes or has the right meter or word choices:
~
CTA bus, I hate you.
But, you get me home.
And, save me some money.
Therefore, I put up with you.
But, if you were a guy,
Without a doubt, I'd dump you.

And, I'd tell all my friends about you,
Including, of course, all of your bad habits.
Which, I must add, are many.
First, you smell something terrible.
Second, you invite yucky friends over and let them stay.
Third, you rattle, bump, break down and scare me.

CTA bus, I hate you.
Why, oh why, must you torture me?
What, pray God, is the reason for this?
Oh, for the blog fodder?
Okay, you're right.
I agree, it's almost worth it.
~
Pathetic excuse for poetry, but come on. I'm writing on the fly here!

At any rate, where do I sign up?

My Bags Aren't Packed Just Yet

I read many blogs each day, but two of my favorites have to be those of two couples, dear friends of mine, who have left Chicago (and realites of urban life) to tour the world.

One couple, Tracy and Vytas, is touring by boat on their beloved Sunshine Daydream and they have traveled north through the Great Lakes, out to the Atlantic Ocean via the St. Lawrence Seaway, and down the Intercoastal Waterway to arrive in the Carribean. They've been in the Bahamas for a few months now, and will be crossing the Atlantic to the Mediterranean Sea in a few months.

Lucky for us landlubbers, they post blogs and email updates as they go. Even luckier, they post amazing photos not unlike the above, taken during their trek down the Intercoastal near Charleston; Tracy promises she could hear the dolphins crying out, "Come on! Warmer weather this way!" While perusing their photos, I sometimes sit and stare (at my laptop) and can almost taste the saltwater. I swear I can hear the sound of the surf.

The other blog belongs to a former client of mine, Melissa, who became a friend. She and her husband, Klas, both having descended on America in college to play collegiate tennis in Tennesee (she from Australia, he from Sweden), have been "on the road" now for over a year. They have been to countless countries in Europe and have eaten and drank and toured their way through that continent, often meeting up with friends and family who either live abroad, or have flown to visit them.

After Europe, they flew to Asia and toured Thailand and they are now exploring New Zealand. The below picture is from their recent adventure ice climbing there on the Franz Josef Glacier. It takes me a moment to catch my breath while staring at that photo, and all I am left with is awe. I'm a tad bit afraid of heights, and the courage it takes to put yourself out there, quite literally, to do something like this is impressive to me.


After I finish praying for their continued safety, satisfaction and good health, I can't help but feel jealous. That's normal, I fear. But the more nagging emotion is one that results in a flood of questions: when is the right time to "retire" to explore this beautiful world? To put yourself in situations that truly test your character? To aggressively go in search of your spirited side? To capture memories that will last long after the suntan fades and the photos are put away?

For my two sets of friends, the time is now. As I stare at my laptop, still, I think they must be doing something right.

Why wait? (If my bosses are reading this, don't worry. I can't quite pull off this early retirement thing just yet. I'll be here tomorrow. And the next day.)

I know what you're thinking.

Yes, I plan to visit Sunshine Daydream and will hopefully alight on the boat when they hit Greece or Croatia. I have always wanted to see those countries, and how better to do so than by boat? The timing of the trip will depend entirely on their schedule, which, incidentally, depends entirely on the wind. As a control freak/organizer/planner, I will have to just sit tight and make plans as they come.

Maybe that's the first step to truly letting go?

I'm Such a Tease

Yes. You are seeing that correctly.

I have embarked, though slowly, on a new blog. Not to replace this one, but in addition to it (because I have the time!?!?).

This one is big. Huge. Legendary. I feel obligated, like I owe it to girls everywhere, to do this.

And, yes, I will provide an ample, and well-crafted definition of this theory of mine about the vortex.

Tales of the Vortex will be about, and comprised of, the world-class, hilarious, painful, ridiculous, nail-biting, boot-stomping, mind-numbing, frustrating, stupid situations that have happened to me or to one of my fabulous friends as we traverse the dating universe.

These tales make great "let's have a glass of wine and talk about men" kind of stories, but they make truly finding happiness in dating virtually impossible. Laughable even.

Maybe, just maybe, with me displaying this kind of "flirty, easy, teasing attitude," you'll actually drop in and visit when I'm ready. You'll settle in, share a laugh, and find some kindred-spiritness to it all.

You know, like you said you would.

As you said goodnight.

After introducing me to your parents.

And never did.