A Summer to Remember, Photos to Forget?

As I reflect (*sigh*) on the dwindling days left of summer, I do realize that my friend Jill's label of me is true. She called me "The Queen of Summer" and she may just be right.

No, I'm not wearing any silk sash across my chest, and I wasn't given a dozen roses or a tiara, but the title fits. I do love this time of year, and I have eeked out every moment of fun that I could these past few months. I'm exhausted (in the good way), broke (in the bad way) and fatter (in the reality way). But I wouldn't change a thing.

This has been a summer to remember. And, in case I can't (brain cells dead from all the fun and all), I'll recap it here. A highlight reel, as I'm known to do, of the activities since May:

Travel

• Costa Rica—a week in the sun in Central America with my boy and my girls and their boys. Beaches, wildlife, ziplining, fruity drinks, fresh fish/fruit, a private chef, lazy days at the pool, fun souvenirs and loads of laughs. What more could you ask for? Pura vida.


• Michigan—with Brett's parents living there, a friend's wedding hosted there and a camping trip up there, we've spent a lot of time (and money on the Skyway!) going back and forth five times this summer, and I have loved every minute of it. Except the traffic on 94—I'd ditch that in a Michigan Minute.


• California—went for a two day business trip, but had fun nonetheless. Finally saw the Crystal Cathedral from evangelistic fame, glimpsed Disney Land, and visited the Real O.C. For a day.

Music

• Stevie Wonder—was lucky enough to see/hear him at Taste of Chicago. What a great musical influence and kind spirit he is—I ran out and bought his Greatest Hits and recommend you doing the same.


• Symphony—heard the St. Joseph Symphony playing across the St. Joe river in Michigan during the 4th of July fireworks. Spectacular!


• Feist—went to Ravinia to enjoy her lilting voice and the gorgeous setting in Highland Park with a few bottles of wine and two amazing couples. What a night!


• Lynne Church—was treated to the solo vocals of Lynne as she sang during a wedding in Mackinac Island, and as a former member of the cast for Phantom, it truly was a treat!


• Ty Maxon—at the Venetian Festival in St. Joe, Michigan, we got to see Ty perform. What a talent! The carnies, however, were just creepy.


• Cat Power, The Raconteurs, Radiohead—saw 'em all at Lollapalooza, and they were worth the sweat, the sunburn, the crowds and the long lines. Fabulous. Especially Radiohead, during "Fake Plastic Trees" when the fireworks lit up the night.


• The Spice Girls, The Indigo Girls and Evan & Jaron—the Posse doing our renditions atop the swim-up-bar in Costa Rica was the closest I'll come this summer to seeing these shows. We're not half bad.

Parties

• Roofdecks—I have a great one, Brett's has an awesome view of Oak Street Beach and my friends Brenna and John recently renovated theirs with fabulous outdoor furniture and gorgeous wood planter boxes and furniture, so we have had several great parties looking at the few stars we can see in the city. And, trying to convince people not to throw stuff over the railing.


• Wedding Schtuff—with so many weddings comes so many parties. And celebrations. And drinks. Enough said.


• Backyards—oh, how I wish I had a backyard. My own little patch o' grass to host a great outdoor party on. Alas, I don't have one, but thank goodness I have friends that do! Granted, the one Katie and Jess had in late May, we were all wearing heavy jackets, but who's judging.

Events

• Taste of Chicago—gotta go at least once, gotta eat something greasy and fattening, and gotta buy a few overpriced beers to sip on while you navigate the crowds and people watch. I'm convinced most of America is really rude and classless, but I'm still pleasantly surprised when someone actually says "excuse me" when they slam into you and spill your aforementioned overpriced beer all down your front.


• Ravinia—how can you not enjoy sitting in a grassy lawn under a canopy of trees spotted with lampposts and twinkly lights listening to great music while munching on a fantastic picnic and sipping great wine? Yeah, didn't think so either.


• Wells Street Art Fair—one of my favorites, and this year's foreboding weather couldn't keep us from trolling Wells Street, drinking pink vodka lemonades and admiring the artwork. And the strange people. And the strange stuff people thinks is artwork.


• 4th of July and Venetian Festival in St. Joseph, Mi—both were great excuses to make the trek over to Brett's hometown along the "other side of the Lake" and enjoy a slower pace and a reunion with old buddies. And, great fireworks!


• Gay Pride Parade—this one is almost beyond description. But a must see to believe!


• Booze Cruises—we did one for Kristen's Birthday in June that had us on a 200-passenger dance-floor sporting lone-line-at-the-bar-having rocking party that took us up and down the river and out onto the lake. We sported neon jelly necklaces and basically acted like drunk 12-year olds. No one fell in, though. The other was with a vendor outing for Brett's work, and while it was more subdued (it was a 30 passenger party aboard an old guy's yacht), it was still a great view of the city at night.


• Air & Water Show—where else can you be sitting at your desk on Michigan Avenue with a wall of windows behind you showing the Blue Angels fighter jets soaring past, causing you to spill your coffee and get your heart racing? Watching the air portion from my roofdeck wasn't half bad either.


• "My Boys" Cast Party—my friend Molly works in PR for movies/tv, so we got invited to the cast party for the TBS show set in Chicago. The cast was really cool and very friendly. The only disappointment was not having Jim Gaffigan there so we could taunt him with "Hot Pocket" the whole time.

Movies

• "Sex and the City"—great!


• "Dark Knight" at IMAX—AMAZING and so cool to see so much of Chicago in it.


• Great Netflix rentals—some good, some snores


• "The Happening"—the worst movie I've seen EVER

Transportation*

• Car (own and rental)


• Bus


• Taxi


• Ferry


• Power boat


• Horse-drawn carriage


• Bike


• Plane


• Train (elevated and subway)

*If only I'd ridden a motorcycle, soared in a hot air balloon, been pushed in a stroller or chartered a donkey, I think I'd have covered them all.

Sports

• Cubs—I've been lucky enough to attend a few games this year, treated by Brett and his workplace ticket connections. This is OUR YEAR! Pass the Kosher Dogs.


• Ziplining—careening down a wire through the jungle, above the rooftops, reaching speeds of up to 60 mph over a seemingly death-defying length of nearly 2,500 feet, this was as much of an extreme sport as I can usually muster.


• Volleyball—watch one game of our volleyball team play on North Avenue Beach and you'd be hard-pressed to call it a sport. But we had a really good time, and only occasionally moaned and groaned as the other team smashed us into the sand.


• Biking—riding rented beach cruiser bikes the 8-mile trek around Mackinac Island in northern Michigan was well worth the $5/hour and the sore butt the next day.


• Canoeing—you've already been treated to my take on the canoe experience, but let's just say that I'm lucky I didn't end up with a broken rib or an oar to the head.


• Cornhole—a Midwestern game and I love it. If I went to the Olympics tomorrow, I'd be a contender.


• Ladder Golf—I only recently got turned on to this game, but it is a blast on the beach. Just look out for flying balls on rope.


• College Football—ok, so it hasn't started yet, but our trash-talking about the pre-season rankings is anything but sportsmanlike. I have remained somewhat quiet about our #1 ranking in all three recognized pre-season polls (so much for subtlety) but come August 30, we'll see how it goes.

So there you have it. My summer in a nutshell. Well, more precisely, a generous handful of nuts. To complete the summer sharing, here's a highlight reel of the best/funniest/worst photos that depict the above activities. These may not all be framers, but they sure make me smile.

Mom, I told you they wouldn't get stuck like this.

We sucked, but it sure was fun.

Is it a bird? A plane? A monkey? Nope, just Colleen conquering her fear of the jungle zipline.

The musical stylings of Ty and Brittany at Venetian Fest.

Isn't she lovely? Our dance moves would make Stevie Wonder proud.

Radiohead was my favorite at Lollapalooza this year.

They aren't "My Boys" but they're cute.

You can't tell from the photo, but it is blistering hot and super crowded at Lollapalooza this year. Oh wait, every year.

Things slow down a tad in Michigan.

What you don't get from the photo is the omnipresent smell of horse poop on Mackinac Island.

If only ladder golf was an Olympic sport.

John is built like this and he can cook, too!

Jack White + Chicago summer = sweaty rockstar.

Jill and I fit together like backwards spoons.

Enjoying a hooky day beer on North Avenue Beach with visiting Jenny.

As Brett's guest on the vendor booze cruise; does it look like I'm afraid of being pushed overboard?

Gotta love gay men in red speedos.

His zipline fear is real. Mine is exaggerated (slightly).

Shown here wrestling Laura at a backyard BBQ early in the season. Shortly afterwards, she surfed on my crumpled body.

Enacting cheesy couple poses, Elizabeth & Walton have it down.

You may kiss your bride!

The wheels fell off at about this time in the party.

Go Cubs Go!

We always make the guys carry things like this. Strong like Cox!

Central American pineapples make him a teeny bit crazy.

Brenna gone wild during Cranium night.

Apparently Brett's family is in a gang.

Gotta love boozing at the office for a bridal shower.

So adult. Incredibly mature. Pretty ugly.

The very famous, mostly infamous, Flip Cup Tourney at Chippewa Landing.

Sipping vodka lemonades after Kim's shower at Fireplace Inn with Jamie, Kim and Katie.

Hanging out at a tiki bar in Jaco, Costa Rica.

Life in the city. Can't complain.

Palm trees in Chicago? Check.

Riding in our bridal party carriage in Mackinac Island.

Mocking Mike while camping.

Some of the girls gathered on Brenna & John's new roofdeck.

The booze cruise to celebrate Kristen's birthday.

Goodbye summer, thanks for playing!
Now it's time to enjoy the fall, which is anchored by football season and brace for winter, which is blanketed in snow.

Vibrant Reality, Short-lived

As is traditional for the month of May in Chicago, the tulips are in full bloom up and down Michigan Avenue. They are a gorgeous metaphor for summer in this city, in my mind.

You anticipate their arrival for months, waiting as the snow melts, the landscapers prepare the beds, the sun warms the frigid pavement and the bulbs are planted.

When the do arrive, they burst onto the scene with a delightful vengence, causing tourists and Chicagoans alike to proclaim their beauty, wear silly shorts and Cubs hats, capture their wide range of colors on film, soak in as much time outdoors as they can and revel in their brilliance.

They don't stick around for long, however, so you best enjoy them while they last. Milk their presence here as much as you can. Treasure the days that are full of vibrant color, long hours of sunlight and the abundance of leisurely outdoor activities.

Toward the end of their time, the tulips begin to wilt, sway in the wind and sag towards the ground, bowing down to the inevitable reality that is their demise. The calendar doesn't lie, despite our every effort to delay the reality of the seasonal change. The expense of having planted them is questioned, as the time they were here was so brief. But deep in your heart, you know it was worth it.

And, then they're gone.

Sadly, and yet patiently, you must wait a full year to experience their glory yet again. But the anticipation is sweet, the countdown is boisterous and the sheer fact of their existence in the city makes it all worthwhile.

If only summer arrived in May along with the gorgeous flowers. Can a landscape crew get on that, please?

It's Friday and I'm in Love (with Target)

I have taken the day off today from work, solely to accomplish those personal to-do list items that you rarely get to when the weekend hits. And, the traffic to maneuver this city is so much better on a Friday than mid-day chaos on a Saturday.

I spent 2 hours (and way too much money) at Target this morning. I think I touched at least one item on every rack, and scanned each aisle, just in case. People stared at me because I was just so, well, happy. Just to be there. I'm fairly sure that one store shouldn't bring someone so much pleasure. Even the pouring rain and heavy bags couldn't damper my mood.

So, while you twitter away the last few working hours of the week, I'm off to cross things off my to-do list, begin the four loads of laundry staring at me, affix the wheels to my spanking new granny cart and switch out the seasonal wardrobes.

Before you go picturing me standing in a Gap-sized organized closet with remote controlled moving racks, please know that this process is more like this: grab the Rubbermaid totes from the creepy storage unit upstairs, unload the cute spring and summer clothes I forgot I owned, drag them back up filled with sweaters and boots, and pray the whole way down that the weather won't turn nasty again.

Because I just can't handle snow in May. Or, another trip to the storage unit before October.

Oooh! I just spotted my flip flops! A gift from God, especially after a winter where we got 75 days of snow.

The Fever

I officially have spring fever.

Growing up in Atlanta, April was the month of fabulous 75+ degree days and eternal sunshine. I'm sure it rained quite a bit, but those soggy days don't stick in my memory quite like the warm days where the sun is blinding, the birds are chirping, and the car windows are left down all day.

April in Atlanta is that perfect time, where it isn't yet July and your back isn't yet sticking to the car seats. You can go all day with the house windows open, no heat and no AC, and it just feels nice. The grill gets a good workout, and the back deck is the new living room.

Baseball games are the background music to a Saturday afternoon, and long naps are required, commenced long before the 7th inning stretch. The mosquitos haven't yet found their way to your backyard, and the trees are starting to look green again. Sunday mornings are complete with the sound of lawn mowers firing up and doing their thing all across the neighborhood, and kids play football in the street stopping only to yell "CAR!" as the neighbors come home from Pike's Nursery to plant the pansies in the empty pots on the front porch.

With the added hours of daylight, the dinnertimes start later, and the family is all smiles. Placemats are dragged out to the back deck, where the wrought iron table is wiped clean of pollen for the feast off the grill. Screen doors are oiled and prepped for a long summer of use, and flip flops and sandals replace the boots of the earlier months.

The flowers are all in full bloom, and the softball leagues are out practicing. People know that this is the best time of year, save for September when the football season begins, and take advantage of it. April in Atlanta is spectacular, and I do think it is a gorgeous month. One of the best.

On the flip side, April in Chicago is a temperamental woman.

Some days she's lovely—encouraging all residents to abandon their down coats and woolen mittens for a light spring jacket and a pair of Ray Bans—and the city sidewalksare full of families pushing strollers, couples holding hands, and kids playing games. Cornhole games are dragged to the front yard, and the Cubs jerseys are worn with pride. Cold beer is poured into red Solo cups as the gang predicts a winning Cubs season, dripping with optimism and hope. The tulips planted by the tens of thousands that line Michigan Avenue finally come into bloom, and you are shocked by the range of colors that exist there. Tourists fill the streets, but the wind is light, so you don't mind.

The anticipation of summer in Chicago is reason enough to get out of bed in April. You can almost taste the warm months, and the sounds of the street festivals begin to flood your mind. You know that summer is close, and the winter clothes are down to the last few wearings before shoving them to the back of the closet for a few glorious months. The eve of summer is almost as good as the three months that this season gets here in the Midwest. People know that time in the sun is a cherished, special thing, and no one here wants to miss a moment of it. Pushing the season, the beaches and lake paths are full of people grasping onto the few fantastic and unseasonably warm days here, and you can almost convince yourself that there will not be any more questionable days.

Then April turns nasty, revolts against the beauty of spring, and has a cold flash for a few days, making you wish you hadn't jumped the season and pulled off the boots. The down coat seems more appropriate on these days, but you just can't bring yourself to wear it, so you just go cold. Clothing is confusing on these crabby April days, and summer feels a long time away. Fans at Wrigley look more like fans at a Bears game, bundled and shivering against the harsh wind off Lake Michigan. Optimism wanes but hope remains. The plants you eagerly bought and potted into your balcony flower boxes wilt and look sad, while the frost glistens on the deck rails. The windows haven't yet been cleaned and the remains of winter are everywhere. The park is sad and lonely, and the beaches call out for visitors who are brave enough to go there.

So we wait.

I believe that April in Chicago is a true test of the human spirit. Teases you just enough to wet your appetite, then takes it all back and reminds you that it won't be consistently beautiful weather until the middle of June. Shows you just what you can expect, and then makes you hold out for the reality of it all.

But, it sure is worth it when it arrives. I remain optimistic, full of hope, and a tad bit chilly without my down coat.

Not Just a River in Egypt

Every year, about this time, it happens to me.

I start planning vacations.

I think it has something to do with the fact that there is a little minus sign in front of our daily temperatures, and I actually forget what sunshine on my shoulders feels like. The freckles from last year are still there, and they sadly stand out far more on white Irish winter skin than I'd like. They're begging for more friends. Get in the sun, woman!

So...I have officially booked a trip to Los Angeles for the weekend of March 1st, and that can't come soon enough. But, frankly, the upper 60s, while a huge departure from our weather, aren't quite the daily highs I'm after.

Therefore, and quite proudly, I have agreed to go to Costa Rica for the first week of the summer. I know, I know. It should have been an easy decision. The flights just dropped in price drastically from the ones in November when I was looking before, and now they are more than affordable. So, I pulled the trigger. The trip isn't until May 31, but will mean a whole 7 days in a tropical paradise, surrounded by my best friends from elementary school and their husbands. I can hardly wait.

I think that this vacation urge comes from several places: one part denial that winter is really this long in Chicago, one part needing something to look forward to, one part giving myself a reason to get out of bed each of these dreary days. And, who am I kidding, an excuse to buy guidebooks (I'm a dork), more bathing suits (ugh) and a few choice "vacation-wear" sundresses and sunglasses (woohoo!).

And, anyone who knows me would also tell me that they think I just like having something to plan. Some reason to put huge red marker Xs on my calendar. For a whole amazing long week. Yes, I actually do pull out the Sharpie and go to town. Try it—it feels fantastic.

After my girls vacation to Mexico last November, we all vowed to treat ourselves each year.

Give those freckles some friends. And now I'm doing it.

Figured I'd share the love and post some photos of the house we'll be staying in while visiting Costa Rica. Not too shabby!








I know. I'm cruel.