10) Facebook told me I write like Chuck Palahniuk. Then I gave another writing sample and it told me I write like David Foster Wallace. Then I tried again and it told me Cory Doctorow. So I have decided I am too manic in my writing style to ever amount to anything. Then I plopped on the couch to mope and eat ice cream and watch a "Say Yes to the Dress" marathon.
9) I have been making a concerted effort to exercise every day (see reasons above) and this seems to take up a lot of my usual writing time in the evening between work and dinner. It ain't easy getting less fat.
8) Summer in Chicago. I mean COME ON! Who expects me to stay in all hunched over my computer? I need to be riding my bike and drinking 'ritas on a patio and playing volleyball on the lake until the winter starts to set in, y'all.
7) I was too busy going to IKEA seven HUNDRED times in the last two weeks. (Bad desk legs were bought. Receipts were lost. DON'T ASK.)
6) I was too busy basking in the glow of my impending nuptials.
5) I was busy feeding my goldfish Guppy who should have been dead like a year ago but refuses to give up
4) I read all the other blogs out there and realized I could never compete with http://blog-of-stupid.blogspot.com/. Good night!
3) I felt really bloated
2) I did not remember how to spell "and"
1) My dog ate it.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Wanna experience the closest thing to being me today?
I just thought I would share what my commute was like today. It was like this.
Luckily my bike and I were in sync the whole time and we managed to stay the course.
That is all.
Luckily my bike and I were in sync the whole time and we managed to stay the course.
That is all.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Guys I have been so lazy about writing ever since I got back from vacation in St Louis! I don't know what is wrong with me. All I want to do is laze in the sun with good friends and drink beers and/or margaritas. I think that means I have an acute case of "Summer-itis." And I am not sure how to cure myself...or if I even want to be cured, honestly.
I started writing little pieces for an online community called Examiner.com and I was doing really good for about a month. They claim to pay for your writing and make you open a paypal account and everything, but all I see is like 5 cents in there most days. And sometimes it goes up or down a few cents, which I find hilarious and I can't quite figure out how to get more money out of it yet. What I do know is that my lack of writing in the last two weeks has brought the account down to like -1 cent, if that is even possible. This is not good, folks. I can't owe some random web employer of mine 1 cent. That is ludicrous. I joined this site because I wanted to force myself to write articles and share info with people on a regular basis. Also to get my writing chops up in a venue other than this little corner of mine. And now all I have to show for it is -1 cent in a paypal account. I am doing it all wrong.
Well hopefully I will get back into the groove with my writing and be more disciplined about doing it regularly after calling myself out here and writing about it publicly. This whole self-motivation thing has always been tricky for me, and I was proud of myself thus far. Until this week, when it all fell apart due to my general apathy and numerous social obligations.
Can you blame a girl for being popular? Damn.
I kid, I kid. But now I have to go. A friend of mine is headed over here to grill up some Grouper that was left at yesterday's BBQ extravaganza. (Yep. Someone came with Grouper. And left it in the fridge without cooking it up. Who does that? Everyone else brought effing brats, like a normal person.) Score for us.
I will leave you with this, because why not blow your effing mind for a sec? Happy Sunday, y'all.
I started writing little pieces for an online community called Examiner.com and I was doing really good for about a month. They claim to pay for your writing and make you open a paypal account and everything, but all I see is like 5 cents in there most days. And sometimes it goes up or down a few cents, which I find hilarious and I can't quite figure out how to get more money out of it yet. What I do know is that my lack of writing in the last two weeks has brought the account down to like -1 cent, if that is even possible. This is not good, folks. I can't owe some random web employer of mine 1 cent. That is ludicrous. I joined this site because I wanted to force myself to write articles and share info with people on a regular basis. Also to get my writing chops up in a venue other than this little corner of mine. And now all I have to show for it is -1 cent in a paypal account. I am doing it all wrong.
Well hopefully I will get back into the groove with my writing and be more disciplined about doing it regularly after calling myself out here and writing about it publicly. This whole self-motivation thing has always been tricky for me, and I was proud of myself thus far. Until this week, when it all fell apart due to my general apathy and numerous social obligations.
Can you blame a girl for being popular? Damn.
I kid, I kid. But now I have to go. A friend of mine is headed over here to grill up some Grouper that was left at yesterday's BBQ extravaganza. (Yep. Someone came with Grouper. And left it in the fridge without cooking it up. Who does that? Everyone else brought effing brats, like a normal person.) Score for us.
I will leave you with this, because why not blow your effing mind for a sec? Happy Sunday, y'all.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Road Trip
The man and I got out of town this past weekend and headed to St Louis, Missouri for a little change of atmosphere. We just sort of swapped one city for another city, you might say. And you would be correct. However, no city really truly compares to Chicago, in my opinion, so the swap was a bit uneven. But that is what I think happens with any city you visit after living in Chicago for long enough--there are just so many amazing aspects of the Second City, it is hard for any other city to compete. Obviously from that last statement it is clear that Chicago won my heart long ago and I don't think I will ever stop loving it, even long after I am-gulp-gone someday (because let's be honest, it is bound to happen sometime. I'll never afford the property taxes here and we all know it).
But back to St Louis--the other town in this story.
First of all, I want to make it clear that I did not have a bad time. Quite the opposite in fact. We had many options for fun and adventure, as well as a plethora of food and drink choices. We took in a Cardinals game. We climbed up and down the amazing City Museum (which I highly recommend because it was honestly the craziest thing I have ever seen. EVER). We bar hopped and had some of the greatest Spanish tapas dishes ever. We ate some of the best sushi I have ever had at the Drunken Fish. We took pictures of ourselves with the famous Arch and then rode up to the top for akind of lame really lovely view of the entire city. It was a great time and I felt that the city had much to offer in terms of interesting neighborhoods and surprisingly cool venues.
It was just that the people were so weird. And the customer service in general was so bad. Everywhere we went, I swear. Now I hate making generalizations as much as the next person, but the city really revealed this particular element of itself as our trip went along. It became sort of a running joke with us, which was helpful because that kept it from becoming super annoying and kept us sane through some of the really weird situations.
For instance:
They ran out of hot dogs at the ball game. We had to walk to 3 different places till we finally found a stand that still had hot dogs. And we took the last two. This was only in the 7th inning, folks. Who the hell does not have hot dogs at a freaking baseball game? Seriously? Are we in America? Did you not expect a shit-ton of people to attend this event and request the most typical food item that could be found there? Wow.
We could not get the hotel we stayed at to do a damn thing that hotels typically do for guests. Nothing. The customer service was not even bad. It was nonexistent. I have never experienced anything like that before. And coming from working in hospitality oh so many moons ago, I know how a normal hotel is run and what they can do. Like when the remote control was missing in our room and I called down to ask for an extra one and the front desk said they just did not have any. Complete bullshit. There is always an extra remote in housekeeping, or in another unused room somewhere (even when they are full, there is always an extra room somewhere. Always). Or when we asked for housekeeping to come clean after they seemed to ignore us for a few days, and we came back to find only our bed made and our old towels taken away. No replacement towels. No fresh cups. No new soaps or anything.
No one at the hotel knew how much the bus fare was for a bus that stopped right outside the hotel. No one had a schedule for said bus route. Any beer on the menu at the "bar" (more like a sterile-looking counter in the lobby) was not available. Why did we even get a menu for said beer? God (and the rude bartender) only knows. When we asked if we could order off the menu at breakfast time in the "cafe," we were informed that nothing on that menu was available either, and that the old cheesecake in the glass case was all they had. These are just a few of the highlights. There were plenty of other little annoyances that were pretty wacko while we were there.
The shocking thing to me was just the lack of alternatives offered, you know? Like okay, if you don't have that beer, or that one, what do you have? Or even better--okay, if the tram to the Arch broke after we waited in line for an hour for a ticket, what do you suggest we do? Wait it out? Try another fun activity nearby? It is okay that things don't always run smoothly or you are out of something we wanted. Just apologize and offer some ideas of how we can get something else. Like normal freaking customer service people. It was the apathy and sense of indifference that was so shocking to me. I have never seen so much of it in one vacation in one location.
Eventually, we became accustomed to having to go to the internet to get the answers we needed from the hotel. Eventually, we figured out the bus system ourselves. Eventually, we went to the cafe down the street to eat breakfast that was not cheesecake. Eventually, we found a hot dog. We managed to navigate the city ourselves using a little improvisation, a little ingenuity, and a whole lot of "I think this route will get us to an area we will enjoy." And ultimately, we did just fine.
So St. Louis, it was real, and it was fun. And it was even real fun. But next time? Give me my damn remote control so I can watch bad TV on my vacation without having to get up from the bed. (I also happen to think this is a metaphor that sort of encompasses the feeling of the entire trip. Think about it.)
But back to St Louis--the other town in this story.
First of all, I want to make it clear that I did not have a bad time. Quite the opposite in fact. We had many options for fun and adventure, as well as a plethora of food and drink choices. We took in a Cardinals game. We climbed up and down the amazing City Museum (which I highly recommend because it was honestly the craziest thing I have ever seen. EVER). We bar hopped and had some of the greatest Spanish tapas dishes ever. We ate some of the best sushi I have ever had at the Drunken Fish. We took pictures of ourselves with the famous Arch and then rode up to the top for a
It was just that the people were so weird. And the customer service in general was so bad. Everywhere we went, I swear. Now I hate making generalizations as much as the next person, but the city really revealed this particular element of itself as our trip went along. It became sort of a running joke with us, which was helpful because that kept it from becoming super annoying and kept us sane through some of the really weird situations.
For instance:
They ran out of hot dogs at the ball game. We had to walk to 3 different places till we finally found a stand that still had hot dogs. And we took the last two. This was only in the 7th inning, folks. Who the hell does not have hot dogs at a freaking baseball game? Seriously? Are we in America? Did you not expect a shit-ton of people to attend this event and request the most typical food item that could be found there? Wow.
We could not get the hotel we stayed at to do a damn thing that hotels typically do for guests. Nothing. The customer service was not even bad. It was nonexistent. I have never experienced anything like that before. And coming from working in hospitality oh so many moons ago, I know how a normal hotel is run and what they can do. Like when the remote control was missing in our room and I called down to ask for an extra one and the front desk said they just did not have any. Complete bullshit. There is always an extra remote in housekeeping, or in another unused room somewhere (even when they are full, there is always an extra room somewhere. Always). Or when we asked for housekeeping to come clean after they seemed to ignore us for a few days, and we came back to find only our bed made and our old towels taken away. No replacement towels. No fresh cups. No new soaps or anything.
No one at the hotel knew how much the bus fare was for a bus that stopped right outside the hotel. No one had a schedule for said bus route. Any beer on the menu at the "bar" (more like a sterile-looking counter in the lobby) was not available. Why did we even get a menu for said beer? God (and the rude bartender) only knows. When we asked if we could order off the menu at breakfast time in the "cafe," we were informed that nothing on that menu was available either, and that the old cheesecake in the glass case was all they had. These are just a few of the highlights. There were plenty of other little annoyances that were pretty wacko while we were there.
The shocking thing to me was just the lack of alternatives offered, you know? Like okay, if you don't have that beer, or that one, what do you have? Or even better--okay, if the tram to the Arch broke after we waited in line for an hour for a ticket, what do you suggest we do? Wait it out? Try another fun activity nearby? It is okay that things don't always run smoothly or you are out of something we wanted. Just apologize and offer some ideas of how we can get something else. Like normal freaking customer service people. It was the apathy and sense of indifference that was so shocking to me. I have never seen so much of it in one vacation in one location.
Eventually, we became accustomed to having to go to the internet to get the answers we needed from the hotel. Eventually, we figured out the bus system ourselves. Eventually, we went to the cafe down the street to eat breakfast that was not cheesecake. Eventually, we found a hot dog. We managed to navigate the city ourselves using a little improvisation, a little ingenuity, and a whole lot of "I think this route will get us to an area we will enjoy." And ultimately, we did just fine.
So St. Louis, it was real, and it was fun. And it was even real fun. But next time? Give me my damn remote control so I can watch bad TV on my vacation without having to get up from the bed. (I also happen to think this is a metaphor that sort of encompasses the feeling of the entire trip. Think about it.)
Thursday, July 15, 2010
We Don't Have to Move! Huzzah!
A while back I wrote about some big changes coming around the bend. Well we just got word that one of those things will not be happening, and I am sure from my gleeful title of this post, you can deduce which one it is.
Yes, folks. We don't have to move in a few months from our beloved cave-like apartment. Adam talked to our landlord a few days ago and he suggested we sign a lease for another year! We were worried that since the landlord is trying to sell the building, we would either be kicked out or forced to go month-to-month until someone bought it and then kicked out. And all this right before Adam heads to Grad school. And of course, right before our wedding. But no, the landlord sees us for what we are--a commodity for people who would like to buy the building we live in and rent the bottom while living up top. What a great selling point if the buyer has no need to look for renters. There will already be two stable, easy-going people happy to stay in the crusty downstairs apartment for one more year. Win-win for all.
Now the only thing we have to work on is finding a way to get our landlord to let us have a kitty. After much discussion and debate, I have finally convinced my ever-compromising and loving fiance to give in and allow a feline into our lives. It took a while, and consisted of a lot of whining and even a little batting of the ole' eyelashes, but all my bugging him paid off and he agreed at last that having a low-maintenance furry companion would be fun and it would also keep me company when he is at school and work all day/night for the next 3 years. The problem is, we have a "no pets" clause in the lease...for now. I am optimistic that we can convince our landlord to make an exception. I mean, come on. We are the greatest tenants a landlord could ask for! We are responsible, polite, and don't trash the place. What more could you want in a renter?
And besides--when we were first looking at the apartment before we rented it, the landlord was showing us around and mentioned the "no pets" thing...right before opening a bedroom door and bumping into a huge cage with a rabbit inside.
He seemed only mildly surprised, not angry, and mumbled, "Well I guess we allow rabbits now. So only rabbits, I suppose." We all laughed awkwardly and moved on.
So this experience has totally convinced me that with the right tone and finesse, we can definitely win him over to our side. Plus, he is selling the joint anyway, so what does he care? We have a legitimate shot at this, guys. I can feel it. Though I do have a track record of being a little too optimistic at times. But this is different! (I think)
Overall, us not having to move during such a stressful time is way more important than getting a cat. So I could put up with one more year of being pet-less.
I can also put up with the apartment I lovingly call "the cave" due to it being on the ground floor with very little light unless you open all the front windows and allow all of my neighborhood to view whatever we are watching on TV along with us. I can put up with it's darkness and all the cracks in the doors that make winter unbelievably cold. I can put up with the shower that has a layer of black grime from many years of neglect from long before we came along, and refuses to look clean. I can also put up with the rattling heater and air conditioner attached to the upstairs apartment that happens to be located right next to our bedroom for some reason. And I can put up with the weird bugs I find from time to time. All this is what we like to call character. And it certainly beats moving. (Don't most things in life beat moving? I mean really.)
Yes, folks. We don't have to move in a few months from our beloved cave-like apartment. Adam talked to our landlord a few days ago and he suggested we sign a lease for another year! We were worried that since the landlord is trying to sell the building, we would either be kicked out or forced to go month-to-month until someone bought it and then kicked out. And all this right before Adam heads to Grad school. And of course, right before our wedding. But no, the landlord sees us for what we are--a commodity for people who would like to buy the building we live in and rent the bottom while living up top. What a great selling point if the buyer has no need to look for renters. There will already be two stable, easy-going people happy to stay in the crusty downstairs apartment for one more year. Win-win for all.
Now the only thing we have to work on is finding a way to get our landlord to let us have a kitty. After much discussion and debate, I have finally convinced my ever-compromising and loving fiance to give in and allow a feline into our lives. It took a while, and consisted of a lot of whining and even a little batting of the ole' eyelashes, but all my bugging him paid off and he agreed at last that having a low-maintenance furry companion would be fun and it would also keep me company when he is at school and work all day/night for the next 3 years. The problem is, we have a "no pets" clause in the lease...for now. I am optimistic that we can convince our landlord to make an exception. I mean, come on. We are the greatest tenants a landlord could ask for! We are responsible, polite, and don't trash the place. What more could you want in a renter?
And besides--when we were first looking at the apartment before we rented it, the landlord was showing us around and mentioned the "no pets" thing...right before opening a bedroom door and bumping into a huge cage with a rabbit inside.
He seemed only mildly surprised, not angry, and mumbled, "Well I guess we allow rabbits now. So only rabbits, I suppose." We all laughed awkwardly and moved on.
So this experience has totally convinced me that with the right tone and finesse, we can definitely win him over to our side. Plus, he is selling the joint anyway, so what does he care? We have a legitimate shot at this, guys. I can feel it. Though I do have a track record of being a little too optimistic at times. But this is different! (I think)
Overall, us not having to move during such a stressful time is way more important than getting a cat. So I could put up with one more year of being pet-less.
I can also put up with the apartment I lovingly call "the cave" due to it being on the ground floor with very little light unless you open all the front windows and allow all of my neighborhood to view whatever we are watching on TV along with us. I can put up with it's darkness and all the cracks in the doors that make winter unbelievably cold. I can put up with the shower that has a layer of black grime from many years of neglect from long before we came along, and refuses to look clean. I can also put up with the rattling heater and air conditioner attached to the upstairs apartment that happens to be located right next to our bedroom for some reason. And I can put up with the weird bugs I find from time to time. All this is what we like to call character. And it certainly beats moving. (Don't most things in life beat moving? I mean really.)
Friday, July 09, 2010
Having a Great Day
Having a great day in the summertime is such an amazing feeling. Think about it. There is a spring in your step, the sun is shining bright and warm on your skin, and a stupid perma-grin stretches your face muscles to their maximum capacity. All in all, you have that burning fire of triumph or pleasure running through your veins with no way to stop it.
There could be a number of reasons your day suddenly went from zero to hero. Maybe you stumbled upon an awesome pair of shoes on sale. Maybe your best friend called and made you laugh so hard you started that habit of snorting while laughing again. Or maybe you just had a great meeting with someone who has the potential to enrich your life in some way--a new friend, a job interview, a cute boy on the train...whatever the reason, that feeling of shouting to the sky "today is great! Get this one in the books as fan-freaking-tastic!" has come over you. Relish it. Bathe in its electricity. Take a pause, take a breath, and be present with it right in the moment. Examine it for all its complexity and appreciate it.
There could be a number of reasons your day suddenly went from zero to hero. Maybe you stumbled upon an awesome pair of shoes on sale. Maybe your best friend called and made you laugh so hard you started that habit of snorting while laughing again. Or maybe you just had a great meeting with someone who has the potential to enrich your life in some way--a new friend, a job interview, a cute boy on the train...whatever the reason, that feeling of shouting to the sky "today is great! Get this one in the books as fan-freaking-tastic!" has come over you. Relish it. Bathe in its electricity. Take a pause, take a breath, and be present with it right in the moment. Examine it for all its complexity and appreciate it.
Because let's be honest. These moments are sometimes few and far between. Life can be a tough place to live. Sounds silly but it is true. Work and love and family and financials can sometimes be a real bummer. Death happens. Pain happens. Chances are missed and opportunities pass you by. That is the reality of many of our days.
But then there are these days. The days where everything seems right in the world. Where you find yourself standing on the brink of what could be something really great (which in my opinion is sometimes a more fabulous feeling than the actual great thing itself--am I right?) Possibility days, I'll call them. These are the times that will help pick you back up and yank you through the bad times and keep hope alive in your heart. Even if it's just a pair of sale-priced sexy red pumps, the moment of excitement and possibility is real and powerful. May we all cherish it.
I am having a day like that today, for a simple reason that is not important. What is important is the fact that I am allowing myself to be ecstatic and ride the wave of emotion I am feeling. It feels good to feel good about this life. I rode my bike down the beautiful, tree-lined streets of my amazing Chicago neighborhood, and the breeze kept me cool as I went. I got home to my cozy cave of an apartment and I threw open all the windows to let the summer air flow through the rooms. I am about to make some delicious lunch for myself and relax on a gorgeous Friday afternoon (these great days often happen on Fridays for me--something about the feeling of possibility associated with a Friday, I guess, when you are on the brink of the weekend). All is well and I am happy and excited about what comes next for me.
The funny thing is, this is such a different feeling from how I felt just a few days ago. I was deep in Funkytown (not the fun 70's kind). But sometimes funks happen, and it is important to also allow yourself time to wallow in the funk--though not too long or it can be counterproductive.
May we all have the grace and strength to recognize that these intense swings of mood are all a part of the beast and beauty of life. Embrace them all. (But especially the great days. Those you want to hug a little tighter.)
Monday, July 05, 2010
Top 6 Reasons A Lake is Better than the Ocean
As a California transplant suddenly finding herself quite literally in the middle of America, I have often credited the massive girth of Lake Michigan as one reason I don't feel insanely homesick for my homeland. I cannot see the end of this particular Great Lake (the greatest of all the lakes, I might add), for it's massive size makes the opposite shoreline impossible to view. This is great for me because it tricks my mind into believing I am not as land-locked as I actually am. It gives the illusion that I am on a coast of some kind, and that comforts me.
Over the years here in Chicago, I have grown to love and appreciate Lake Michigan's beach front for all it has to offer me. Its sandy beaches are my court when I play beach volleyball in the summer time. Its long and winding bike path is my main road to different city events going on downtown. Its murky waters provide relief on a hot and humid summer day. And sometimes, I will be honest, it is just a convenient place to pee. For all these reasons and more, I love Lake Michigan with all the gusto I have had for the Pacific Ocean all these years. As a replacement for my first body-of-water-love, it has done all right by me.
Without further ado, here is a list of reasons why a lake is better than the ocean:
6) No sharks!
I never have a Jaws moment while swimming in the lake. In the ocean, every now and then, I would suffer a small panic attack and picture a shark coming my way. I can't help it, I am a child of the 80's. Jaws was as real and American as apple pie to me.
5) The water is not salty.
Salt water starts to irritate my skin after a while of swimming in it. And boy does it burn if it gets in your nose.
4) No seaweed.
If I had a nickel for every time I accidentally stepped on one of those weird bubbly parts of seaweed and shrieked when it popped below my feet, well...I would not be all that rich but I still remember doing that a lot as a child running around the Pacific coast. Also I remember loads and loads of seaweed washing up on the shore in huge hairy clumps that looked like a giant lost his wig. These clumps would inevitably attract a strong following of sea flies, and would look like weird writhing hills all over the sand, until you walked up and the flies all made a group exodus right at your face. Sick.
3) The water actually gets warmer in the summer
I lived in Newport Beach, CA for a year. I swam in the ocean zero times in that year. Why? Because the Pacific never seems to get warmer in the summer. My body could not take freezing cold water tempature, and so I was only able to view the beautiful surf and maybe put a toe in, but certainly not swim in it. All those surfers in California? 9 times out of 10 they are wearing wet suits. For good reason. The idea of people just diving right into the ocean in Southern California in their bikinis or swim trunks is quite the urban myth. Deal with it. But the lake? I can jump right into those warm waters and splash around like the best of them. Bliss.
2) Tiny Waves
As someone who has been knocked down endlessly by wave after wave in the ocean, the mild little lapping of waves on the lake is a welcome change. I am in the power position now, water! Take that!
1) No Tide!
The best thing about the lake verses the ocean is that there are no tide changes. When you go out to the lake shore, you know exactly what you are getting into. The water hits at more or less the same spot every day. But at the ocean, as the day progresses, your sweet little beach set up might have to get moved again and again as the waves start moving on up on you. Falling asleep close to the waves at the beach? Risky and annoying. Falling asleep near the waves on the lake shore? Safe and heavenly.
Add to these reasons the fact that Chicago has a sweet city skyline to view behind you as you lounge at the lake, and I think these are some very compelling things that make the lake way more awesome than the ocean.
Of course I could just be coming up with things to make me miss the ocean a little less. Either way, it works.
Over the years here in Chicago, I have grown to love and appreciate Lake Michigan's beach front for all it has to offer me. Its sandy beaches are my court when I play beach volleyball in the summer time. Its long and winding bike path is my main road to different city events going on downtown. Its murky waters provide relief on a hot and humid summer day. And sometimes, I will be honest, it is just a convenient place to pee. For all these reasons and more, I love Lake Michigan with all the gusto I have had for the Pacific Ocean all these years. As a replacement for my first body-of-water-love, it has done all right by me.
Without further ado, here is a list of reasons why a lake is better than the ocean:
6) No sharks!
I never have a Jaws moment while swimming in the lake. In the ocean, every now and then, I would suffer a small panic attack and picture a shark coming my way. I can't help it, I am a child of the 80's. Jaws was as real and American as apple pie to me.
5) The water is not salty.
Salt water starts to irritate my skin after a while of swimming in it. And boy does it burn if it gets in your nose.
4) No seaweed.
If I had a nickel for every time I accidentally stepped on one of those weird bubbly parts of seaweed and shrieked when it popped below my feet, well...I would not be all that rich but I still remember doing that a lot as a child running around the Pacific coast. Also I remember loads and loads of seaweed washing up on the shore in huge hairy clumps that looked like a giant lost his wig. These clumps would inevitably attract a strong following of sea flies, and would look like weird writhing hills all over the sand, until you walked up and the flies all made a group exodus right at your face. Sick.
3) The water actually gets warmer in the summer
I lived in Newport Beach, CA for a year. I swam in the ocean zero times in that year. Why? Because the Pacific never seems to get warmer in the summer. My body could not take freezing cold water tempature, and so I was only able to view the beautiful surf and maybe put a toe in, but certainly not swim in it. All those surfers in California? 9 times out of 10 they are wearing wet suits. For good reason. The idea of people just diving right into the ocean in Southern California in their bikinis or swim trunks is quite the urban myth. Deal with it. But the lake? I can jump right into those warm waters and splash around like the best of them. Bliss.
2) Tiny Waves
As someone who has been knocked down endlessly by wave after wave in the ocean, the mild little lapping of waves on the lake is a welcome change. I am in the power position now, water! Take that!
1) No Tide!
The best thing about the lake verses the ocean is that there are no tide changes. When you go out to the lake shore, you know exactly what you are getting into. The water hits at more or less the same spot every day. But at the ocean, as the day progresses, your sweet little beach set up might have to get moved again and again as the waves start moving on up on you. Falling asleep close to the waves at the beach? Risky and annoying. Falling asleep near the waves on the lake shore? Safe and heavenly.
Add to these reasons the fact that Chicago has a sweet city skyline to view behind you as you lounge at the lake, and I think these are some very compelling things that make the lake way more awesome than the ocean.
Of course I could just be coming up with things to make me miss the ocean a little less. Either way, it works.
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