Number 31b: Be Better October - The Recap, Part One

It's 5 pm on the first Friday, October 11. I'm insanely exhausted.
But I'm not complaining. Not bitching. Not moaning.
I'm just busy. Which makes happy. Dare I say, satisfied?

Let's recap. Over a month ago I pledged to Be Better during the month of October. With the insanity of the Government Shutdown, and all of the negativity I read daily on the internet, I made the decision to not spread any more negativity last month.

I set six goals for the month of October. Here's how I fared in tackling the first three.

Be Better At Saving. The Challenge: I will not buy any new clothes during the month of October. I will put aside an extra $25 each week into my savings account.

The Halfway Point: I was SO TEMPTED to buy clothes all month. The transition of season just made me crave the purchase of fuzzy sweaters and earmuffs and that new pair of boots. (I mean come on, who doesn't love a fuzzy sweater?) I caved on one item, and that was a new long sleeve for running, which replaced my well-worn (and somewhat pungent) running jacket. So I'll say everyone is better off due to that purchase. (Plus it helped towards my mileage goal -- have I justified this enough to the world yet?)
The Results: I DID IT!! Last week I allowed myself a new fuzzy sweater and a (sale) necklace. Other than that though, I've done pretty well at breaking myself of my spending habit. And the extra $100 I put away this month? Keeping it in my savings account for a rainy day. 

Be Better To My Liver.  The Challenge: Avoid alcohol for an entire week.
The Halfway Point: I cut down on my alcohol intake during the first weeks of the month, but I still found it insanely hard to socialize without drinking. So I compromised with myself, I did not drink within my apartment during the week.
The Results: I definitely could have tried harder to stick to this challenge... but fortunately last week's cold kept me without alcohol for a full six days. So thanks, body, for yelling at me so my mom doesn't have to. Maybe we'll try this guy again after Thanksgiving.

Be Better About Increasing My Mileage.  
The Challenge: Run 60 miles during the month of October.
The Halfway Point: 26 miles (I was only four miles off at halfway!)
The Results: 43.74 miles. I was off my goal by about 3 runs' worth of miles. What I didn't factor in this month? I was in rehearsal and simultaneously finishing writing a play. So while I didn't hit my goal, it wasn't because I was lazy.

The silver lining? In the past three months I've run 131.47 miles. I'm going to cut myself a little slack.

Fun fact? I finished the Hot Chocolate last weekend in a little over 26 minutes. Even though I didn't hit my goal, I'm still pretty proud of myself, folks! Plus, look how much I'm enjoying that chocolate post-race.

All of the challenges actually went much smoother than I was expecting. While this blog in general is about tackling a ridiculous "to do list", I thought I would hold myself more accountable but tracking the goals on the blog itself. But it turns out I was able to stick to my goals with publicly publishing. Maybe I should have also added, Be Better at Blogging About Stuff to the list, but oh well.

Tackling goals is not easy and sometimes it's hard to see progress. I think it really helped to have a set of tangible things I could monitor with numbers - things like amount of money saved and number of miles run with less tangible things like counting to ten before I whine about my life. Do I feel like a better person? Sure. Can I do better? Always. Stay tuned for my recap of the second set of challenges and my next set of silly encounters in the city.

As always, thanks for reading.
xoxo, E.

Number 31: Invent an Interesting Past... Or Work On Creating An Even Better Future

Hey Gen Y. Millennials. Whatever all of you underemployed, over-ambitious, under-40s are being called this week. Can I get something off of my chest? Can I ask a teeny, tiny favor? Could you all please STOP. YOUR. BITCHING. Yeah, I'm talking to you, whoever wrote this article and this article, but I'm also talking to myself. Do you know how many times a week I complain about the "first-world problems" I'm experiencing? Too many. Complaining is natural - I get it. And keeping frustrations in is simply unhealthy. But lately I'm sick of listening to myself. I complain about everything from not having the perfect pair of shoes to wear on a Saturday night, to why I'm a 6 instead of a 4, to complaining about my job, to complaining about my career (and yeah those things are different). And let's not get started on the tirades I've gone on about my love life.

But what do I ever do about it? What do any of us every do about it?

I read a rash of articles every day that just COMPLAIN about the state of our lives without thinking about improving on it. We graduated into a recession, that sucks. We may be dreamers, but why is that a bad thing? We are called lazy, yet somehow we have the time and the means (and apparently the drive) to write article after article about the sorry state we are in - but we can't control those things. I mean someone out there had the time to create a DATING SITE FOR GHOSTS, but we don't have the time to spread any good. Look at what is going on in Washington. It's essentially a massive temper tantrum, but WHY?! This is helping NO ONE. NO. ONE.

So, starting today, instead of acting like this about the things I can't control...

...I'm going to focus on the things I can control and challenge myself to something I'm calling Be Better October. I started this blog (twice) to give myself a challenge. To publicly dare myself to get out and DO something. Here's All I Wanna Do this month...

- Be Better At Saving. The problem? I love clothes. LOVE THEM. But I don't necessarily need to buy any new ones right now.  
The Challenge: I will not buy any new clothes during the month of October. In addition to what I already put aside from each check, I WILL put an extra $25 into my savings account at the end of each week.
The Payoff: I'll have an extra $100 set aside to do something nice for myself. Or a jump start on my holiday present fund.  
The Duration: October 1 - October 31.

- Be Better To My Liver. The problem? Chicago is a drinking town. Everywhere you go, alcohol is not only presented to you, but it is encouraged that you have multiple drinks.
The Challenge: Stay sober for an entire week. (I'll give myself a bye for a celebratory glass of wine on Friday evening. Or when my fantasy team dominates again this week.)
The Payoff: Again, there's the bank account thing... but I'll have more energy to complete my "Be Better" tasks.
The Duration: October 2 - October 9.

- Be Better About Increasing My Mileage. The problem? I ran a half-marathon in May and while I haven't stopped running, I haven't kept my mileage up to the number I'd like it to be. Now that it's getting cooler, it's easier for me to go on longer runs, so it seems like a good time to up my mileage.
The Challenge: Run at least 60 miles this month.To be fair, I ran 52 miles in the month of September. But I'm determined to up the ante.
The Payoff: Looking smoking hot in my not-at-all sexy Halloween costume. (That isn't sarcasm. It's really unsexy. But it is hilarious. Obviously.) And smoking the competition in the two road races I've got lined up for November.
The Duration: October 1 - October 31.

- Be Better To My City. The problem? I feel selfish. In an effort to think and act more positively this month, I think I should do something for my community.
The Challenge: Volunteer at least once this month.
The Payoff: I'm helping to make my city better and someone's day better while betting myself.
The Duration: We'll see what I choose to do!

-  Be Better About Complaining. The problem? I'm sick of negativity. With all of the time I spend complaining about things, I could be using that time to make improvements
The Challenge: Like with anger management, I'm going to count to ten before I complain.
The Payoff: Hopefully I'll be sending out more positive vibes by the end of the month.
The Duration: This one is open ended... the wishful thinking part of me hopes this will become habit.

- Be Better About Working Hard. The problem? No matter how hard I work as an actor, there is always someone working harder.
The Challenge: Find and work out two new monologues by the end of the month.
The Payoff: ...we'll see.
The Duration: October 1 - October 31.

So, here we go internet. I'm trying to do a little good, one day at a time. So here's to a little less bitching, a little more positivity. I plan on feeling like this by the end of the month...

...because really, when I think best self, I think breaking it down with TSwift. Happy October, Friends. I'm off to do some good.

Number 47: Wear a feather boa and movie star glasses to the grocery store -- Or a Mustache Around A Street Festival

Ah... the street fest. The quintessential must-do for every Chicagoan. Starting in early April, we begin buying oversized mugs guarenteed to get us one dollar off our next refill, making excuses for why we're not paying the "suggested donation" at the gate, and taking pictures of us acceptably drinking in public.

Good times, guys.

But not all street fests are created equal. And so, ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce... Taco Fest. I'll start off by saying that one of the particular perks of this fest is that we had to do zero traveling as it was right at the end of our street. In fact, it screwed up my run and my errands on Saturday afternoon. But Sunday, Taco Fest redeemed itself. (And it had nothing to do with the tacos.)

Before acquired any food or beverage, we acquired some mustaches for participating on THIS:

Yep, that is literally a mustache ride. Gross name? Sure. Fun? You betcha.

Then came the funner part. (Yep, I went there.) Wearing the staches. I'm not sure when the stache became a fashion statement, but we rocked the hell out of them on Sunday afternoon. From group shot...

to acting natural...

to taking care of business...

we sported staches everywhere. And apparently people noticed.

My favorite conversation?
Guy sitting on patio at Mystic Celt: Oh man - did you lose a bet or something?
Me: Nope. Why?
Guy: You know... (Gestures to the stache.)
Me: I really don't. (Walks away. End scene.)

So, the mustaches had nothing to do with Taco Fest but they did help promote what is my new favorite pumpkin beer - the Jack-O-Traveler. I'm actually surprised I've never heard of this company before since they are Vermont based, but I'm really glad I discovered them. It was like drinking a piece of pumpkin bread. AKA Heaven. Anyway, I understood the staches... what I really didn't get was the appearance of A CAMEL at Taco Fest. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but when I see a camel, I think Mediterranean food... not Mexican. But there it was in all its camel glory.

And while I avoided climbing up there, I thought it would still be a good time to have my picture taken with said camel. You know, until it was hungry since no one probably fed it any tacos and it decided to eat my hair. But hey, no harm, no fowl... er... dromedary.

Here are the things I learned about sporting a stache.

- I have no shame when it comes to wearing ridiculous things in public. And I love it.
- Drinking is pretty easy while wearing a stache. Eating, however is HARD! How do you do it, men?! I had to take mine off to eat my tacos. My delicious duck tacos.
- After awhile, you get used to the stares. (This is me assuming all staches get stares, not just mine.)
- And... this. While photos of staches are hilarious, photobombing will always be funnier.

 

You stay classy, Chicago. Lord knows we're not.

Number 65b: Remember the "a la mode" - A Summer Reflection

 Hey BlogLand... it's me. Erika. You may not remember me, but I'm the the girl whose life you read about when you visit this site. And sometimes that girl takes stupidly long hiatuses from posting. I'm sorry that I've left you hanging. Today marks a solid four months without a post. You're probably wondering what I've been up to. Well, friends, it's been a heck of a summer. (Hence the hiatus.) If we're Facebook friends you've probably noticed that I spent a lot of my summer holding red solo cups (cough, Mom, cough cough). That's because summer in Chicago is hot and I understand the importance of routine hydration. Glad we got that out of the way.

Well, since I posted last, I completed my first ever half-marathon (in 2 hours and 6 minutes), hydrated, spent two weeks traveling the East Coast, had some visitors, hydrated some more , saw some plays, and generally lived up that infamous "Chicago summer." You know, hydrating. And I made some important self-discoveries. (I know, I sound insanely productive.)

Here's a fun fact about me: I love watching tv sitcoms about solid groups of friends. Whether it's kicking back at Monica and Rachel's or sitting at the regular booth at MacLaren's or (as of late) playing poker at PJ's with the boys -  we take on these friends as if they are our own. I find myself saying things like, "I wish I could be friends with Schmidt." "Wouldn't it be fun if we could do that every night?"

But last month, as I walked away from a going away party for one my best friends, I realized that I actually do have THAT. We have our routines and our "spots" and our inside jokes. In every group, we each play our roles. We understand the dynamics of putting together certain groups of people. Recently, someone said to me, "I love meeting your friends - everyone is so nice and is always having fun." I'm pretty proud of that. I'd like to think that at 26, I'm choosing to surround myself with good people. People that I love and want to be around. People who bring out the best in me, understand the worst parts about me, and are still there for me when I have a colossal break down.

I don't have a large extended family and as a result I've made my friends a part of my family. Now that I'm far away from my family, this has become even more important to me. Whether it's coordinating a Skype date between four different time zones with my college friends or heading to a show to support new friends or answering that late night phone call because you know something isn't quite right, being a good friend is important to me.

An old boyfriend once commented how he was amazed that I have so many friends that I keep in close contact with. He wondered how I made time for them all. And how I was able to keep that many people close to me. "I make time," was my response. I've lived here for almost a year and half now, and I've gone from loving it, to wondering if I was doing the right thing, to being an absolute mess, to standing on solid ground. And it is the people I've surrounded myself with that even out the footing.

I know a lot of you (especially those in my age set) probably read this article yesterday. It made some interesting points, and gave me some stuff to think about, sure. But after I finished it, I got to thinking. I'm not unhappy. Things aren't perfect. I've cried more than once about the imperfections in the last month. But things will never be perfect. And, I mean, did you read the start of this blog? I just told you that I haven't blogged in four months because I've been having too much fun. I've been going on auditions and planning parties and discovering that I have friends that I can do nothing with. Because those are the best kind, the kind you can just sit next to on a couch with no movie on and no agenda, and just be with for hours on end. So what is there to be unhappy about? I've described myself as always striving to be the person in the room having the best time.

And sure, I probably could have a few more bucks in my savings account, and could spend some extra time per week at the gym, but life is out there to be lived. And so far, things are exactly at expectation level. So here we are, first post back, waxing on about happiness levels. I've got to go -- I've got to plan the side dish I'm bringing to supper club tonight and then figure out what I'm serving at this weekend's party. With my friends. Where I'll be having the best time.

Thanks for reading, BlogLand. I'm excited to be back in the game. See ya soon.
xoxo,
E

MBFTIBMTTIF: This Is It

FRIENDS! Tomorrow, Sunday, May 19, I will celebrate my four year anniversary as a college graduate. In even bigger news, I AM RUNNING MY FIRST HALF MARATHON IN THE MORNING.

I'm carbed up, hydrated, and ready to go. And it certainly helps that I've received an insane amount of will wishes from friends and family this week. So thank you! Oh, and did I mention that my parents are here to cheer me on?! Well, they are. And I couldn't be happier.

So here we go, kids. If you happen to be up around 7 am CST tomorrow and you'd like to follow my race progress, check me out on Twitter or on Facebook. If this crazy world works the way I think it does, every time I pass a mile on the course, my bib should tweet where I am...

See you all in 13.1!

xoxo,
Erika

Number 57: Take the credit, and the compliments, and say thanks!

I am not the most tech savvy person you've ever met. I know my way around basic computer stuffs, I can effectively stalk anyone on Facebook, and I can usually figure out small issues on my own without calling a help line. I'm also easily confused by the iphone, don't really understand how to use shortcuts on my computer, and PLEASE DON'T EVER ASK ME TO TYPE ANYTHING ON A TABLET. (That shiz is hard.)

So yesterday, you can imagine my chagrin when, while using my computer normally, I discovered my trackpad would no longer "click." My mouse worked but I could not select anything on my computer. I did some research from my phone and found that this is an insanely common problem with MacBook Pro once they hit a certain age. (Mine is about 3 years old.) It's often caused when the battery, which is located directly below the trackpad, swells, rendering the trackpad immobile.

So naturally, the first thing I did was call Apple to get a quote. Let me tell you something about Apple. They are certainly a well structured company when it comes to making their consumers completely reliant on them when it comes to help... and making sure they are charged every step of the way. But apparently, they don't put a huge emphasis on customer service. Here's the conversation I had with the "Genius" (read: asshat) that I spoke with at the Lincoln Park Apple Store yesterday.

Me: Hi, I'm calling to get a quote on a repair.
Genius: We don't give quotes over the phone.
Me: Okay, well if I describe the problem to you, can you tell me if you think you'll be able to fix the problem in store?
Genius: No.

[Silence.]

Okay, I know what you're thinking. I probably should have given up at this point but I wanted some answers! Obviously he can't promise me anything without seeing the computer, but he could have at least tried to be helpful. Or at the very least, polite. THAT IS WHAT HE IS PAID TO DO. Here's how the conversation continued:

Me: Okay, um, well let me ask you one more question [insert part of story where I describe the problem here]. Am I right in saying that this is a pretty common problem with these computers?
Genius: I don't know.
Me: Well, do you see this type of thing a lot with the MacBook Pro?
Genius: Yeah, all of the time.
Me: Okay, so... you would say yes, this is a common problem. Can you usually fix it in store?
Genius: I don't know.
Me: Well, thanks for your lack of help.

And I hung up. SERIOUSLY APPLE STORE?! He didn't even try to be professional let alone helpful. If I'm going to shell out some money for this, I want to be spoken to respectfully. You know who spoke to me respectfully yesterday? The internet. I found this video -- which detailed the exact problem I was having with my computer.

So, here was my next problem. I didn't have QUITE the right screwdrivers to complete this task. I went to the hardware store but the guy that works there said that they are definitely a special order type tool. Well played, Apple. Well played. BUT... if you think that was going to stop me you would be sadly mistaken. I did a little MacGuyvering with the screwdrivers I did have and FIXED MY TRACKPAD.


I'll be taking the credit for this one. Absolutely. Special shout out to GoGeeks. Thanks for giving me the tutorial. Not bad for a Friday, folks. Not bad at all.

Thinking you want to use your computer skills to make yourself feel good today? You should probably give a vote for Sixth and I synagogue before midnight tonight. Click here. I did it. BECAUSE MY TRACKPAD ONCE AGAIN CLICKS. Yeah, I won't be letting this one go for awhile. Thanks, interwebs.

MBFTIBMTTIF: And So Does Mike Jeffries

As per my usual naptime routine, I'm cruising FBook (like the cool kids), so I can get my news fix (like the cool kids), and I discovered that I am not, in fact, one of the cool kids. At first I wanted to cry. When I was in high school, I had a couple of weird haircuts, some clothes that didn't really fit me right, and a little bit of pudge on me in undesirable places. Plus I was a theatre kid. Definitely not one of the cool kids.

Then I went to college (in a city -- cool things happen in cities!) and things got a little better. I dressed a little cooler. I had a larger group of friends. Except for that time I gained the freshman fifteen (fine -- twenty), things seemed to be going well. Then I realized that on the weekends most college kids did things like this:

instead of things like this:

and I realized once I again that I must not be cool.

Fast forward to 2013, I am a fully grown adult. I've been told I'm kind of cute. I have a lot of friends. I have multiple jobs. I have a closet full of great clothes. For the first time in my life, I had reached the status where I knew I MUST BE COOL. And then today happened. And I read this an article where Mike Jeffries, the CEO of Abercrombie and Fitch publicly proclaimed that I was not cool. How do I know? Because he said this:

“In every school there are the cool and popular kids, and then there are the not-so-cool kids... Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely. Those companies that are in trouble are trying to target everybody: young, old, fat, skinny. But then you become totally vanilla. You don’t alienate anybody, but you don’t excite anybody, either."

Because as we all know -- the way to be cool is to wear exactly the same clothes and to exclude those who can't afford a $50 tshirt, nor can they fit into it. GUYS -- I DON'T OWN ANYTHING FROM ABERCROMBIE AND FITCH. And since (I assume) I do not fit into Abercrombie's elite line of spaghetti strap tank tops and pre-shredded short shorts I MUST BE FAT AND UNCOOL. I even made one of these doodads to double check (I mean, I did well on my SATs and I went to a study-college -- remember?!)

Owning Abercrombie : Cool :: Not owning Abercrombie : Not Cool

OMG I AM SO EFFING UNCOOL. And since Mike Jeffries is telling me I am not cool, then he must be the COOLEST of the cool. He must either look like this:

Or This:

Or This:

So I googled him to see what the god of skinny popular teenagers must look like...

And good for you, Mark Jeffries. I was worried when you told me I was uncool. But now I see, that you're just re-branding cool. Because 2013's cool is just a creepy looking middle aged man marketing teeny tops to underage girls. I get it now...

You know what else I hear is cool? Being a dick. A exclusionary moron completely obsessed with physical appearance, with limited vocabulary, and ridiculous friends. Unless it lands you on reality television. Then it's a whole different situation.

MBFTIBMTTIF: Runaway Baby

Before we get started... please click this link. I'm in the mood to give this blog a soundtrack today.

Feeling good? Alright, let's start. With 17 days left til the race, I've got a lot to catch up on. Here was Week 8 in numbers.

2.5 with a stroller.
3 on a treadmill with wet feet.
6.5 in the rain.
8 in the snow.
4 out of anger and confusion.
All 18 miles out of choice.

I think I'm officially a runner. I signed up for this marathon out of a desire to do something for me. All 18 of those miles were for me. Week 8 happened to be the week of the Boston bombing. That week, Monday's miles were to cope with the shock. Friday wasn't much different. I've been tossing ideas around in my head in regards to my feelings about the event, and frankly, many other people have put my thoughts into words in a prettier fashion and you should probably read this, this, or this. (Okay, that last one is just hilarious.)

Dealing with the one year anniversary of a friend's passing, plus Boston, plus the normal turbulent tumult of my ever transient twenties has made the last few weeks less than excellent. But instead of bringing everyone down further, I've made a small departure from my usual blogging style and compiled a list of ten things that made me feel better over the last few weeks  -- hopefully some of them will lift your spirits as well.

1. RUNNING. On Monday, April 15, I ran through Diversey Harbor. Nay, sprinted. I was angry at the news and I couldn't slow myself down until after mile two. I was missing the Boston skyline and instead had this insane view of Chicago midstorm. Boston in my heart, Chicago on the horizon. And I felt better.

2. THIS LINK came to me from my good friend Dani. As someone who is paid to look after a tiny person, I can say that I have multiple experiences like this every day. Henry is a fan of shutting himself in his dog's kennel. Why? I do not know. But it makes me laugh each and every time.

3. TURTLE RACING. What's that you may ask? Exactly what it sounds like. Go to the bar. Buy beer. Get tickets. If your ticket gets pulled you choose a turtle. If that turtle wins the race, you get a free drink or a tshirt. We didn't actually get to race a turtle but I'm 100% going back. It was 100% hilarious and 100% worth the beer I drank out of a solo cup. I recommend this wholeheartedly. 100%.

4. OMG EDITH. Special shout out to THE BLOG THAT PRODUCED THIS MEME.

5. EATING STUFF. Making good use of all of the food Chicago has to offer also helped out over the last few weeks. Right now I'm trying to decide which was better. Eating this Chi Dog Pizza at Dimo's or getting free rhubarb pie last week at Bang Bang. (Side note: Free pie officially makes us regulars! I've always wanted to be a regular somewhere. Couldn't have picked a better spot to make our own.) Shout out to Leor for being present on both food-tastic

occasions.

SERIOUSLY THOUGH GUYS. THAT'S CHICAGO DOG PIZZA.

6. LOVE. Phone calls and texts with my loved ones. I spent so much time on the phone during the week of the bombing. I talked to my parents, my friends in Boston and beyond. And I was overwhelmed at the number of texts I received asking if my family and friends in Boston were okay. Thank you to everyone who looked out for me. I appreciate the gesture more than you know. (Except I just told you, so now you know.)

7. SARA BAREILLES released a new single. Which means a new CD and another tour. Gosh this girl is incredible.

8. THIS ARTICLE. Please tell me these are real comments and not something made up by a comedian. Please, please, please. Not sure you want to click one more thing? This is a preview:

HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE MARRIED?

You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids.
- Derrick, age 8 

HILARIOUS RIGHT!??! Get reading.

9.  CULOTTES. I'm happy to report that I've gotten a lot better at biking since last year. But one thing that drives me crazy is always having to wear shorts under my dresses and skirts while I bike. Well, thanks to Target, my problem is solved! Check out these babies, you only THINK they're a skirt. THEY'RE ACTUALLY SHORTS. Mine are adorable like this:

10. PRIDE. I've run with this hat a lot during the past few weeks, and all I can say is, I'm so proud to be from Massachusetts. Proud, proud, proud. And that's helped me getting through. (And yeah, that's Ollie the Owl and me showing some Boston/Brandeis pride. And maybe a little sadness.)

PS - That's me trying to look disheartened. I realize now that I kind of look like I'm saying the Pledge of Allegiance. Deal with it.

Well, Erika, (you might be saying), that certainly was random. It sure was, dear readers. But here's what I've got. Messy things are going to happen every day. Sad things are going to happen every day. But so are the happy and the silly. So all I've got for now is -- just keep running.

Til next time my loves.

xoxo,
E

Number 48b: Borrow a motorcycle and take the driver's seat. (Or don't. One year later.)

Life is always now.
-- Tennessee Williams

I sat on my steps last night and looked at the sky. The night was cold enough to wear a coat but not so cold that I needed gloves. Living in the city, I don't often get to appreciate the stars, but I could see a few last night and all I could think was, the night can be beautiful. Quiet and silent and reflective. There's something cleansing about spring time. The fact that we've made it through the winter and are about to be rewarded. Even a cold rain is a sign of growth, a passage of time. No matter how cold and miserable the rain, we can be glad that it's not snow. There are all sorts of sayings that go along with this time of year - March goes in like a lion, out like a lamb. April showers bring May flowers. We celebrate holidays about freedom and rebirth. We remember that life is cyclical.

We remember that life is now. I made several phone calls to people I love yesterday. I thought about the little things. And today I made sure I did some little things. I went to the gym, cleaned my room, ate a banana muffin. Tonight I will see a comedy show tonight with some friends.

I'm making sure I laugh today. Because I can't think of any other way to honor Dan than with laughter. My mom loves to tell a story about my high school graduation party. We were making a whirlpool in my parents' above ground pool. It was mostly my friends but a couple of young kids belonging to the neighbors were there as well. If you're not familiar with the concept of the whirlpool, you basically get a bunch of people to run in a circle around the perimeter until the water starts moving so fast in the same direction that you can lift your feet and float. In a circle. It might sound stupid but I love that feeling - you have little control, you are literally "going with the flow." One of the kids from next door was too small and got sucked under the current. My mom noticed from the deck, but before she could even shout out a warning, Dan just reached down, pulled this child out of the water and kept running. Somewhere in a high school scrapbook, there's a photo of this moment. And the thing I remember most from the photo is that we are all laughing.

Sometimes I feel like I'm floating in a huge whirlpool, and there are definitely times when I feel like I've gotten sucked under. But my friends always pull me back to the surface. Tomorrow marks my one year anniversary in Chicago, and despite all of the friends I've made here, those bonds are new. Some will last, some will not. But there are people who will always be a part of my life, and these people are part of memories I will hold forever.

There's nothing we can do about the events that took place a year ago today. But we can do our best to remember. Remember that life is short. Remember those people who are important to us -- even when you've fallen out of touch. Remember to laugh.

I'm thinking of you today, Dan. I think of you often. Laugh on, my friend. Laugh on.

Post-bowling at The Cove, Summer 2006

Number 58: Start a campaign (Or Join One -- Erika Jumps on the HRC Bandwagon)

Like many of you, I awoke yesterday morning to find my Facebook news feed filled with stories about changed profile pictures. A number of my friends had changed their profile picture to show this graphic brought to you by the Human Rights Campaign:

If you follow me regularly, you may have noticed that I rarely blog about anything political. I have my views, but I don't often post them for all to see, read, refute... However, you will also know that what I do write about is emotions. I try to speak from the heart, and what I saw on Facebook yesterday spoke TO my heart. Because when I realized I was having difficulty distinguishing my friends in my news feed, the beauty of the solidarity in changing my picture hit me.

Those fighting in Washington this week in support of same-sex marriage are sending one simple message. We are all people, we may not all love the same way, but we all love. And we know how important love is to our happiness. I happen to be a woman who is attracted to men, but on my screen, I am now indistinguishable from close to half of my Facebook friends -- men who are attracted to men, men who are attracted to women, women who are attracted to women, people who love LOVE and want to say, "One love is not greater than another."

Then came the statuses mocking the sweeping change of profile pictures. I understand your point of view of what appears to be "jumping on the bandwagon" but the point is really, in this decision where nine people will decide who has the right to marry, the world is saying this is how we feel. As evidenced in this tweet I stole from a TIME article...

Molly Fitzpatrick @mollyfitz

Hurry up and change your Facebook profile pictures for marriage equality! The Supreme Court Justices are tallying them all up right now!

4:03 PM - 26 Mar 13

50 Retweets 31 favorites

...Clarence Thomas may not "like" George Takei's profile picture tonight on Facebook, but in this time of social media inundation, I think articles like this one will indeed pass through their minds before the end of the hearings. (Although if you ask Ellen you might get a different opinion.) One of the biggest debates in this case is whether or not this is a decision that should be left up to The Supreme Court or whether is should be decided by the states, and by the people. Well, here are the people speaking up. This is how we fight nowadays, via Facebook and Twitter and Blogger. Via a constantly updated news stream on NYT and HuffPost and Fox News. So, yes, I do believe the justices are listening. We're shouting -- til we're red in the face (or at least the profile picture) -- that marriage is a basic right given to us by our status as US citizens.

In listening to NPR yesterday afternoon, a number of sound bites (Or is it bytes? I'm not quite that tech savvy.) were thrown around. I would highly recommend the NYT's compilation of these quotes here. One of the bites that I found most interesting, was the discussion on what the effects of same-sex marriage are on the children of these marriages, and why NOW is the time to address this issue. (Check out 'Newer than Cell Phones' and 'Crossed that River' for these particular instances.) I'm not a lawyer or a sociologist or a mother. But I spend my days around children and I see children interact with their various caretakers all day long. And what I see is, the children who are treated with love, are the children who are the happiest (and this often coincides with being well behaved and most certainly with contentment). Children only want to be loved. There is a question of, "Won't it be harder for them to to grow up in a family that is different?" These families are only different because we define them as such. Once a stigma is lost, we stop being afraid and we learn to accept. Or as a wise man once said,

I don't have all of the answers. I wish I could make a sweeping argument over the course of this blog that would make the decision easier in the coming weeks, but this is my opinion and for now that's all I've got. Because I am an American woman and I have a right to my opinion. Because the constitution protects me and my right to not only have one, but to speak it proudly. I mean, you are talking to a girl who became a feminist in the fourth grade when she dressed up as Elizabeth Cady Stanton for a class project. And when that same girl took some women's studies classes in college, she learned that the most commonly used term for feminist nowadays is this:

A third wave of feminism arose in the late 20th century and was notable for challenging middle-class white feminists and for broadening feminism's goals to encompass equal rights for all people regardless of race, creed, economic or educational status, physical appearance or ability, or sexual preference. -- Merriam-Webster's definition, as well as the one I learned in college

Equal rights for all people. ALL PEOPLE. If I could recommend you read one more article today, it would be the essay published yesterday by Cleveland Browns' linebacker, Scott Fujita. He's a pro-athlete, ally, and adopted child to a mixed-race couple. It's quite well-written and it makes a clear, valid argument on the case for gay marriage, but also on the importance of family, and looking back at our nation's history. This isn't the first time a group of people has had to fight for a basic right and it won't be the last. Even if the only way you are able to show your support right now is a small, pink equal sign on your Facebook page, you should be proud of yourself. You are a part of history.

As always, remember to spread some love today.
xoxo.
E

Number 17: Go commando

Okay, everyone is thinking it so I'm just going to come out and say it. My posts have been a little emotional lately. And long. I like to write, but I also started this blog to do something fun. So, this will be short. Here is what I have to say about Task Number 17. 

I tried this. I do not like it. It's like... underpants were created for a reason. (I'm just NOT Jon Hamm, okay?! Stop with the pressure.)

The end.

(Except how could I end WITHOUT showing this clip?!)

#ActorProblems: The Onion Was Right About Me

Friends, Romans, Actors, lend me your ears. And eyes. If you haven't already read THIS article from The Onion, I recommend you do that now. Seriously. You. Go. Read. Now.

Okay. Now raise your hand and tell me if that accurately describes your life. Well, here I am raising both hands because that is 100% me. What's your deal, Onion? Stop understanding me so well. Or making fun of me so well, something like that.

When I introduce myself to people and they ask me what I do, I reply, "I'm an actress." Their next question is always, "So what have you been in?" Never ask an actor that question. Then we have to go through this story about the business and how it works and you're just breaking in to the scene here and yada yada yada. I understand why that's your first question, but just don't ask it. When you tell me you're in advertising, I don't ask, "Have you produced anything I might have seen?" Because the thing about most of us is, we've done a lot of work, it just might not be something you recognize and we don't feel like having to explain to you why what we HAVE DONE is meaningful to us.

I do not have an Oscar. I do not care if I ever win an Oscar. I feel accomplished. I still have a dream, and sometimes I only spend 10% of my day working on that dream. But it's a dream nonetheless. And that's a major thing I've got to hold onto right now. This may not work out. But you may also never be CEO of your organization. So, there's that. Sometimes I feel guilty that I don't want to go out and "change the world." But I think that I do help make the world a little better by bringing some art and some emotion into it.

If no one ever dreamed, life would be boring. There would be no Picasso. There would be no polio vaccine. We wouldn't have a black president. Hell, there wouldn't even be a United States to have a black president of. And you better believe I'm excited to write a post about our first female president. So what I'm saying is, yep, Onion, you got me. I bust my butt at two different jobs to afford my acting pursuits. But we all dream that we'll be happy in our careers one day, so freelance writer for The Onion that also works at Starbucks on the weekends, you got me again. I've got a lot of #ActorProblems, but my ability to dream certainly isn't one. I know this rant is getting long, so I'll end with this because I'm feeling a little passionate (And defensive? Why am I always so defensive about this?) right now.

A college student recently asked me for advice about setting out into this world of theatre. This is what I said.

"Nothing happens quickly in this business. The percentage of people who have that lucky "big break" is very small but the number of people making money working in facets of the industry is large. And there is no right way to get there and no right place to end up. Your path will take you places you never dreamed. Follow your own agenda. Don't take a job just because you're scared another one won't come along. (Because it will.) If something doesn't compel you, it's not worth your time and energy. In other words, be true to yourself. 

Okay, so that's the advice from the practical side of me. Here's my advice from the artist in me. If writing is your passion, NEVER STOP DOING IT."

I know I won't.

Number 51: Try An Extreme Sport

I grew up on a ski team. From the time I could walk, my parents strapped two planks to my feet, brought me to the top of a mountain, and said "go." I've had my fair share of race-related thrills, nerves, and injuries. 

None of that compares to the world of Adult Intramural Dodgeball.

I'd like to think of our team as one out of your typical underdog movie. A rag tag group of players enters a tournament to save their beloved gym from being taken over my a huge conglomerate. Wait, that's already been done you say? Okay, what about, an ex-baseball player, current alcoholic coaches his son's team of misfits in order to prove that if you've got some heart, you can play some ball. Oh, that's also a movie? With two terrible sequels and a kind of decent remake? Well, what about a small group of strangers that came together as some sort of respite from this cold Chicago winter and somehow became friends? Oh, okay. There is it. 

Yep, that's me fixing my hair while everyone else gets ready to play.

Our injury count was high, and the number in the wins column was low, but we had a hell of a time playing. I guess I realize why my parents put me on a ski team as a kid. A team brings you together. You make friends. In this case, I also learned a thing or two about adults. There were weeks we played with other teams that were just out there for the fun of it, and then there were weeks where we played against the most competitive group of grown ups to ever assembled gather-and-throw-things-at-other-adults. I'm really not kidding when I say that I'm pretty sure Jaws was on the other team one week.

But I digress. I was talking about making friends, not putting up with people who never learned how to be good sports. Or why it's not fair to draft a Bond villain. As I approach my one year anniversary in the city, I'm hyperaware of the life I've built for myself here and that includes the wonderful people I've chosen to surround myself with. With each new thing I decide to try I realize that no one is ever in a position to turn down friends, and I'll also suggest that if you ever get the chance to join a dodgeball team, say yes.

I think Team Super Stretch Armstrong will rise again.

And if we don't, at least we know how to throw a heck of an after party.

MBFTIBMTTIF: Ten Weeks to the Half

 

Well friends, here I am, ten weeks from my first half-marathon and making good on my promise to rebrand my blog. I've come a long way since I bought that new pair of running shoes. Literally. Since February 23 (our first official day of training), I've logged 35 miles, and will complete an additional 9 by the end of the weekend. I'm pretty proud of myself seeing as I've never considered myself to be a runner before. 

I did a little research (you can take the girl out of Brandeis...), and discovered that not only is the half-marathon (that's 13.1 miles for those of you who don't know) is the "fastest growing road race distance in the United States," but that 59% of the people who run half marathons are women. Most of them are in the 35-44 age bracket, with the second highest concentration of ladies between 25-34 years old.* The more people I talk to about running this race, the more people tell me that they are currently training for a half or have run one in the past. It seems amazing to me that so many people a year put themselves through the training - mentally and physically to run such a distance. And now I'm one of them. 

So I've got my schedule, my flashy shoes, and my GPS watch is supposed to come in the mail tomorrow. But what's it all for? I've spent a bunch of money on gear and thrown myself out on the street to run four times a week. But why? I've already told you that I need some "me time". But while I stand before you as a coordinated, athletic (ha!) 26-year-old, I often need to remind myself of what happened to six-year-old Erika. As a kid, I couldn't run in a straight line. I don't mean by choice...

...but I mean I was physically unable to run in a straight line. I was slower and less coordinated than your average child. You can imagine how rough a game of tag was -- I was "it" until someone took pity on me and let me tag them. In late elementary/early middle school, my parents sent me to my first ever personal trainer to literally learn how to run. (This one didn't think I was fat, but I doubt he thought I'd ever run a half marathon either.) Now, I'm not saying this incident scarred me for life. Trust me, I know a lot of people have it much worse off than that. (Plus, I grew out of it once hitting puberty.) But on some level, it made me aware very early in life that I wasn't meant to be a competitive athlete. And it wasn't for lack of trying, but I just didn't get that gene.

But somehow, here I am, ten weeks away from a 13.1 mile ROAD RACE and I'm feeling pretty good about my training. It has been almost a year since I moved to Chicago and in the past year I have experienced some of the largest changes in my life. I feel like I've been moving towards a major goal, and adding this race to the list of things I've tried in the past year is exciting. My longest run to date is 5.5 miles, I'll do 6 this weekend, and I find myself actually excited to go out for a run each week. And still, there's more. This race has actually given me a physical goal to reach for, not just an intangible one like, "I want to audition more." And I actually think (gasp) this might be making me a more well-rounded person. You know, while simultaneously making me a less round person.

Plus, I get to drink a large glass of chocolate milk at the end of every run, so there's that.

See you on the streets.

xoxo.

*Look! There's a bibliography right here.

Number 66: Rebrand Yourself

Ladies and Gents - we are now 71 days into 2013 and it's been about that long since I promised you a rebrand. Well, here it is. When I started this blog in 2010, it all had to do with one list of 65 things. I was going to try and accomplish them all in a year, I didn't succeed but I learned a lot about blogging and about myself. As time as continued, I've gotten better at blogging on a more regular basis, but I've still found it hard to stick within my original parameters. So here it it -- I'm going to add some new segments to the list. Introducing my first two!

The first new segment is dedicated to training for my first ever half-marathon. I've currently living a single girl lifestyle (happily and by choice), but it doesn't mean that I can't rely on the opinions of some really wonderful gentlemen that I've dated in the past to fuel this title. I mean, who hasn't felt like this?! 

Next segment...

I have a lot of these so get ready. And yes, I'm hashtagging that. All the kids are doing it. I think. Tune in Thursday to see the first rebranded post EVER. (Well, if you're not counting this one.)

xoxo,
Erika

Number 30: Try on very expensive clothes in a boutique you know you can't afford (And then decide you can!)

An often told story exists from our college days - a friend was introducing Jordan and me to a group at a party. In her inebriated state the friend announced, "This is Erika, she's a talented actress. This is Jordan, she has nice clothes." We've consistently laughed over this story, but the fact remains that some of my first memories of Jordan included me complimenting her clothes. (We first bonded over a pair of pencil-shaped earrings she had.) She is the first friend in history that I could remember borrowing her clothes. At 18, this was a huge deal for me. I never had sisters, and none of my high school friends had a similar body type to mine. According to the movies, I had found a best friend. Some one to share clothes and secrets with. At the time, I appreciated this as a milestone.  I had no idea where that friendship would head.

Jordan and I were randomly placed on the same hall freshman year. A random assignment put us on that hall, but time did the rest. From September 2005 to May 2010, Jordan and I lived no more than a staircase apart from each other. We shared more than clothes during that period of time. We went through good times -- birthdays and first loves and long lunches in the dining hall. We went through tough times -- heartbreaks and hospital stays and lost friends. We went through the best times -- lazy nights on the couch watching tv, midnight conversations in our college lounge about the future, and heated drives to the drugstore because our apartment was too cold and we were too cheap to turn on the heat.

And it killed me when she moved to San Francisco in Spring 2010, but saying goodbye to my roommate was just that. Just because she stopped being my roommate, didn't mean she stopped being my best friend. But distance is hard. None of us live in that Boston apartment any more, and, to put it eloquently, being apart sucks. I miss my girlfriends daily, but every once in awhile, we get to see each other. Because having a best friend means buying a plane ticket so you can be with her on Valentine's Day. Having a best friend turns spending a weekend doing "nothing special" into the most special thing in the world. And even when you aren't able to see each other for two years, having a best friend means picking up where you left off. Because while Jordan DOES have nice clothes, it is the characteristic that defines her the least. She is so full of love and life. She is one of the strongest women that I know. She is one of the most giving people that I'll ever meet and that allows her to love fiercely. And THAT is why I am proud to call her my best friend.

THAT BEING SAID...

Wearing a sundress in 70* weather IN FEBRUARY while you shop with such a fashion maven is a dangerous combination. And if you've never witnessed us together, I should warn you that we enable each other. So while our weekend was full of hiking and gorgeous scenery... we also made a few off season purchases in a trendy little boutique called Azalea in San Francisco. And while we attempted to "just try on clothes for fun" we each left the shop with a to-die-for-dress and the same top. (I mean, we had to find a silver lining to being half a country apart, right?!) I ended up with the polka dots. Jordan didn't buy that (faux!) fur coat. And it was a weekend to remember. It might be a good thing we only see each other once every two years... or our bank accounts might never recover. ;)

As usual, while I set off to do something fun with this blog, I learned a lesson in the process. So here's your Erika-advice for the day. Life is short. When you find someone you love, soak up as much time with them as you can. And if you absolutely have to buy a sundress in the process, it's a small price to pay for a memory.

xoxo,
E

Number 35: Run For A Worthy Cause (And For Yourself)

Nervous - so hot right now.

I almost got washed away on my way to spinning yesterday evening (seriously - it looked like a full blown monsoon out there) but I made it to the gym anyway. Yesterday was the perfect day to avoid the gym and one of the toughest (but greatest) spin instructors I've ever had, but I dragged myself out there anyway. EIGHT PEOPLE showed up amidst the rain. Last week, the instructor had to give away his bike we had so many people trying to get in. EIGHT. So making it there was already an accomplishment, but I started thinking about why I go to class every week.

In the fall of 2010, I went through a break up. The relationship wasn't a long one, but it had been an uber-concentrated one. You know the type, a few weeks of intensity where the two of you literally do everything together and your friends start to wonder where this guy even came from and how long he'd be sticking around. I didn't see the break up coming and it hit me hard. So I hit the treadmill. Harder. I got over the heartbreak and into great shape. I ran my first 5k that fall... then stopped running for awhile. Started again. Hurt my back. Stopped. Moved to Chicago. And I started running again. A lot of change happened really quickly and I went through a lot of emotional ups and downs in those first weeks here. Running helped. Lake Michigan was gorgeous and I looked forward to checking out the city and clearing my head. And then it got hot... so I stopped again.

Last week, over a drink, one of my girlfriends asked me to run The Chicago Spring Half Marathon with her. Maybe I should have said no - she's run three halfs before and I've never run more than seven miles at once. Plus, I'm definitely not in the best shape currently. But maybe it was our dodgeball high (that's another story...) or the beer hit me quickly, but I agreed to do it. And the next day, instead of regretting my decision and bailing, I found myself excited. And ready to train. Why?

Because the idea of completing a test of will and endurance reminds me what I'm out here to do. Sometimes I have bad days and I wonder if I'll ever make money on stage. Heck, at this point I'm wondering if someone is ever going to put me ON STAGE. I've yet to be cast in full length show here and while I know it takes time, I'm anxious. So anxious for something to happen. Anything to happen. So in the meantime, I will remind myself that this career is a marathon, not a sprint. I'm still new here and I need to be patient, as hard as that is. And while I continue to audition and network, I will run. 

For me.

Because spin class will go on whether I trek through the rain or not. But I go for me. Because that hour is mine and mine alone. And sometimes when my lungs are staging a coup d'etat, that aerobic pain has the ability to banish all of the bad thoughts from the day and suddenly the only thing on my mind is -- when the hell is this song going to be over?! And it's nice to have an hour where everything truly melts away.

I never thought that I would EVER run a half marathon. EVER. But on May 19, three of my girlfriends and I will run 13.1 miles for the Northwestern Brain Tumor Institute. I'd like to say that we chose the half because of the charity, but we didn't. We just wanted to run. So for now I'll just say that I'm glad we're running for a worthy cause, but I'm especially glad I'm running for me.

I won't steal my bestie's blog idea (and you better believe I'm a little bit running for her as well), but you'll be able to follow my progress on my blog as I continue. Because right now, All I Wanna Do is finish the 13.1 miles. And (since technology is crazy) on the day of the race, you'll be able to see where I am on the course via Twitter. How cool (read: terrifying) is that?! We don't officially start training until March, but I've got a few goals of my own to hit before then. For now, I'll probably just update you on the new gear I buy. Like these cool kicks.

Cat not included.

Happy trails!
E