The Weekend of Fs

Like the snowbirds in January, I'm heading South!

Even though it isn't quite winter yet, this Chicago gal is flocking southward for the weekend.

Brett and I alight on Atlanta this weekend for Family, Friends, Football and Food and I can't wait. It seems to be the F weekend. Let's examine:

F#1: Family
We will be staying with my parents, and he'll be meeting my Dad. Let's hope the men in my life get along, and are on their best behavior. I'm sure it will go smoothly...but in the deep, dark recesses of my mind, I have visions of my Dad answering the door in overalls polishing a shotgun. I have visions of him asking, "What are your intentions with my daughter?" or asking Brett to detail the branches on his family tree, and Brett flushing redder than my shoulders after a long day in the sun.

My Family Tree?
I get to meet my sister's darling new boyfriend, George, this weekend. I've heard so much about him, seen so many photos, and been on the receiving end of some great stories of their time together, and now I get to put him to the test in real life. What kind of questions are the responsibility of the older (questionably wiser) sibling? Do tell, I'm curious. And taking notes.

F#2: Friends
As you've read in many a post, I have a great group of friends with whom I've been linked (for better or worse!) since we were all single digits, wearing braces and rookies in all things life. We've experienced highs (graduations, marriages, babies, birthdays, new houses, new jobs and great haircuts) and lows (deaths, moving away, car accidents, illness, job losses, heartbreaks and our favorite shows going off the air) together. All while managing to keep things interesting (read: Posse Grudge Matches every so often) and fun (read: vacations to foreign lands together).

The Posse, on our best behavior.
I will have the fortunate privilege to re-introduce Brett to many friends that he met in June when we were in Costa Rica, and introduce him for the first time to many new faces. I'm not making a PowerPoint deck to brief him this time (yes, I did), so he's on his own. He can call them all "Buddy" and "Dude" and it will go just fine.

F#3: Football
We will be caravanning east from Atlanta, heading towards the cutest little big college town in the world, Athens Georgia. I love nothing more than showing off this amazing gem to a virgin visitor. Especially in the fall, with all of the grasses green, the leaves changing and the winds lightly blowing. Campus will be at her best. I can't wait to exit off Highway 316 and revel at the new construction and say "That wasn't there when I was here!" a hundred times, to tread softly across the North Campus Quad, to duck behind the East Campus Railroad bridge for a moment in the shade, to drive slowly down Milledge Avenue gawking at the antebellum mansions we Greeks called home, to hoof it over to the new(ish) Student Center Quad to marvel at the new developments there, to stand on Gillis Bridge looking into the end zone of Sanford Stadium where the hedges lie in wait.

Heaven on Earth.
And, there my friends, will be the game. The Georgia Bulldogs vs. the Tennessee Volunteers. We at UGA hate the color orange for a reason (UT, UF, Auburn, etc.) and it will be a Red Sea like no other on Saturday. I long to hear Brett laugh as I call the Dawgs. Despite the season's one disappointment (a memory I'm trying to erase), the Dawgs make us proud, and the SEC colleges know how to tailgate properly to prepare for it. It will be glorious. Go Dawgs!

There is still an outside chance that we'll be able to see the Chicago Bears take on the Atlanta Falcons in the Georgia Dome on Sunday. Not sure if my sister's ticket contacts are going to pull through, but wouldn't that be cool? And, oddly enough, both teams are in first place in their respective division, so it could even be a good game. Go Bears!

F#4: Food
Living in the country's third largest city, one would think we'd have access to everything. Sadly, this is not true for a few critical items of culinary deliciousness. Sweet tea, for example. Can't get it here. In fact, they think you're weird if you ask for it. McDonald's is trying, but who goes to McDonald's for a cold one? I'm hearing rumor of a new treat in the south called Sweet Tea Vodka (STV for short) that is making its rounds. I plan to test it and will share my thoughts. If I have any that are worth repeating.

If only I had a porch and a rocker.
And then there's Chick-fil-A. I've talked about my love for this fast-food but not-fast-food outlet before. I just can't understand why it would be so hard to franchise them here in the city limits of Chicago? Ponder that while I dream about the waffle fries, the lemonade and the lightly breaded, not fried, chicken sandwich. Or chicken biscuit, if you're there early enough in the day. You can practically taste it, can't you?

We may also have a chance to stop by The Varsity, on our way through downtown, tomorrow before we do the touristy things I have planned, or on Sunday on our way back to the airport. Nothing like leaving town with a full belly of hot dogs and french fries at one of the country's oldest drive-throughs, smelling like grease all the way back on your Airtran flight.

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As you can see, I'm ready. Real photos and stories will be shared when I return.

I think this will be one great "F-ing" weekend. Probably NOT the example they'd use on Sesame Street on the "F" day.

Hippy Dippy, Revisited

In honor of my flight to San Francisco today for my cousin's wedding this weekend, I'll leave you with this flashback to another time and another flight. I wrote this back before I had many newbie readers, and would hate for them to miss out on all the fun.

Wish me luck as I travel to the West Coast and back (via Boise, of all places). Pray for on-time departures, kind gate agents (gotta get the Exit Row upgrade!) smooth flights, skinny passengers, or at least the good sense for me to put the armrest down.

Happy Labor Day weekend, all!

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.

Men vs. Women: The Camping Edition

Harassing Indians at Chippewa Landing
I've decided that a weekend camping with mostly couples is one way to psychoanalyze how different men and women are on so many levels. (Male readers, don't go getting defensive now. This is all in good fun.)

Don't go jumping to conclusions either. The weekend was great, the people were amazing, the location was spectacular, my packing list was perfect, and the entire experience lived up to every promise that had been made about it. Without a doubt or hesitation, I would go back again (with the same people!) tomorrow if I could.

However...I would be remiss if I didn't comment on this one aspect.

NEWSFLASH (at least to me):
Men and women are pretty different and handle most tasks in a totally opposite manner.

EXHIBIT A:
We arrived at the campsite on Friday afternoon, and several of the people were already there and were set up (tents up, coolers out, chairs set around fire, etc.) and were already in "happy hour" mode. Despite the fact that it was only in the 3 o'clock hour. We were on vacation!

As soon as my car full arrived, I began to unload the stuff (SO MUCH STUFF) and began to logically and in an organized fashion pull stuff out, set in on the ground, and begin the process of "setting up camp."

For me, this was no different than moving day. I want to do as much as I am physically and humanly able to the first day, right away, so it feels like home as quickly as possible.

Camp was no different. This meant setting up the tent, putting on the rain fly, inflating the air mattress (I know, cheaters), making the bed, moving all of our bags into the tent, and getting things generally organized in there.

Then, I wanted to deal with the food. Pull coolers over to the camp kitchen, put the dinnerware and serving-ware out on picnic table, put paper products in appropriate areas (kitchen, outhouse, you know the drill), etc.

Finally, I envisioned us setting up our folding chairs around the fire (in a nice orderly circle) and grabbing a beer to relax and unwind. I could see myself really kicking back, knowing that the work was all finished, long before nightfall, dinner or the onset of our drunk stupors.

THEN I would relax and have a beer.

Here is where men and women differ.

I turn around, with both hands full of stuff, trudging across camp back and forth (finally got wise and backed the car up closer) and spotted my two male counterparts doing just the opposite.

They were drinking beer. Standing around. Totally idle. Chatting with everyone. Not working at all. Too soon! We're not ready!

I took a deep breath and kept on my way. It was not that big of a deal. I'd handle it myself. I'm domestic, I am powerful, I can do this. On my own. Without your help. Umm...this is heavy. I'm sweating. I only have two hands. I can't reach that alone. I need help already. I'm thirsty too, damn it!

GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME!

Yeah, it didn't go quite like that, and most of the above OCD ramblings were in my head, and not said out loud, so I'm not a total crazy. But, I must admit, that it just struck me as funny how different we are. The other girls in the group concurred—their approach was get unpacked and set up first, THEN relax.

SUV: Some Ungodly Volume (of junk)
EXHIBIT B:
When setting up the incredibly enormous and fairly complicated 6-man tent, my approach was to lay the whole thing out, get my bearings, choose the appropriate poles, and work my way around the tent and get it together in an organized way.

The two guys wanted to just jab the bendy poles in wherever and see what stuck. Then fix it if it fell over. They were happy to be in charge of the big giant heavy hammer that was used to drive the stakes into the ground, but when it came to deciphering the tent poles (sans instructions), they were more of the "just shove 'em in!" philosophy.

The tent ended up going up smoothly, and there was no bendy-pole-to-the-eye injuries to report.

Jessica and I did a great job at it, thank you very much.

Jess and I working on the tent, Brett "helping"
EXHIBIT C:
Men are hungry most of the time. On this camping trip, they were holding beers in one hand for 99% of the time that we were awake, and the other hand was often used to swat a mosquito or pry open a plastic container with a rainbow-colored Jello shot inside. They were BUSY.

Women, however, were also hungry at the appropriate times. You know, like dinner. When the hunger struck, we began to move through the process of getting out of the boxes/bins/trunks the necessary items (read: buns, burgers/brats, cheese, chips, pasta salad, potato salad, condiments, plates, plastic silverware and cookies).

Men, well, they sat there.

Dinner was served, and enjoyed by all. I'd bet that 7/8 of the men on the trip don't even remember how the meal got to the table, or where it came from, but they could tell you how good it tasted and how quickly it was devoured.

How's the brat, Brett?
EXHIBIT D:
Saturday's activities were all about canoeing. Waking up to rain, we were not pleased with the sky's gray hues, but soldiered on. Boarded a school bus and made it to the river. Two by two we climbed into enormous metal canoes (not so smart immediately following a storm, in retrospect) and pushed off the landing.

Primarily, the men were in the back (the steering) and the women were in the front (the power). The back person does most of the strategic maneuvers, and the front person does most of the rowing for speed. I'm not sure WHY we had it set up with me in the front and Brett in the back, but we did. As did most of the other couples.

Brett and I are rookie canoers. And by rookie, I really mean totally clueless and partially terrified. The weather wasn't all that warm, and even after the rain stopped, we had no desire to accidentally tip into the Manistee River.

Nonewhatsoeverthankyouverymuch.

So, we moved along the river at a turtle pace, out rowed by everyone in our group (the other 8 canoes) and were quickly left to our own devices at the back of the pack, running into trees, bumping into rocks and heading straight for each bank. Again and again.

Seated in the front, I was quickly advised (read; told under no circumstances should I touch the thing) not to paddle. That he'd take care of it. So I sat like a lame duck.

I gently tried (I promise, it was not controlling, bossy nagging!) to impart the few quick over-the-river lessons that the other guys had shared as we boarded, but they were not really welcome. HE'S GOT IT.

Okaaaay.

And into another tree we went.

I then realize, as I was biting my tongue, holding my oar dead in my lap, and dodging the 13th branch thus far, that this was no different than driving a car. Men want to figure it out, and women want to stop to ask directions. Just different approaches.

Yes, we finally got caught up, but only after getting "rescued" off an enormous log submerged just below the surface (onto which we proceeded to get ourselves stuck and rock back and forth like a see-saw), and re-joined the group.

My side of the story was this: we sucked, and our relationship may not have withstood the pressures for five hours; every girl in the group nodded, laughing, stating that their first time canoeing with their boyfriend/husband was just the same.

His side of the story was this: it wasn't fun, and he was cursing at the river, not at me (which may have been true, but who was there to translate!?) and that it wasn't that bad, and that we would have gotten the hang of it eventually.

Like, on Tuesday. (in my estimation)

Despite the early challenges, we barged up with the rest of the canoes with bungee cords, and proceeded to have a wonderful day of it on the river, drinking beer, chewing Jello shots and laughing with everyone.

And, we never tipped. And, we never discussed the first 15 minutes on the river again.

I'm wise enough not to bring THAT one up.

What happens on the river...
CONCLUSION:
So, despite our companionship, love and laughter, it truly is amazing that men and women get along at all. We just function so differently, think differently, react differently and approach life differently.

I should probably get used to the differences and find a way to laugh at them. While drinking. Because everything is funnier with a beer. And, then you have a prop to throw at the male in question should the need arise.

I'm just saying.

Part of the male/female group on the way out of town