There's this somewhat indescribable (they say "circus punk marching band") band I love here in Chicago called Mucca Pazza, who I went to see Thursday night, and they were, as they are always, so much fun!! It was their record release show, at this new-ish venue that is cool looking but fairly badly run (NO air conditioning or fans and it was SWELTERINGLY hot, and they ran out of beer before the band even started).
I bought a tank top and proceeded to change into it in the back upper left of the crowded show where I was with my friends M & K and their three girls. Then I met my friend S. (whose birthday is today, and who is in town from L.A.) and we danced our sweaty asses off.
After the show, it was off to the Whirlaway, a great bar around the corner, with some guys from the band that S. friends with. That was fun, too, but I was exhausted, so I just sat there listening most of the time.
Last night was another family picnic/barbecue. I also did laundry while we ate.
Saturday, I rode downtown at 6:30am and swam in Lake Michigan at Ohio St. beach with my group - our first open-water swim training. It was such a good practice, but very cold, and actually, it was sorta freaky - I tried swimming in my wetsuit for the first time. I'd purchased it from ebay, and it's a diving suit, not a specific triathlon suit, so it's really not made for swimming or, apparently, moving your arms around much at all. I felt like I was dying after just a little bit in the open water. It's the combination of the bitter cold, lack of vision, and no range of motion in my upper body without causing my chest to feel totally constricted and choke-y.
My parents surprised me by showing up at at the midpoint of my 1/2 mile swim with their dog and my dog (who had slept over at their place). How fun to look up from the water onto the breakfront wall and see them!! I have no idea how my mom recognized me - there were at least 30 other wetsuit-google-swimcap-clad freaks out there with me at that point. I could barely tell the men from the women.
With them, I walked through downtown and ate breakfast, and then I rode home, and then to Palmer Square for the Tour de Fat, this AWESOME AWESOME new (to Chicago) touring festival put on by the New Belgium Brewing Co. (makers of Fat Tire) to benefit the supercool bike place where I took my basic bikes workshop. I was a volunteer selling merch from 12-5 and it was much fun. Mucca Pazza played and are on part of the tour - so it was excellent to see them again, but I didn't dance as much because I was sorta far away from the stage. And trying to sell stuff.
I met and talked to some very nice guys who were volunteering with me and who were just customers/TdF-goers. I think the bike people are the best people ever. Everyone was friendly and unpretentious. That's one sorta important thing I thought of this weekend - the last two guys I've dated (DG and WX) didn't even own bikes. One had two Porsches (plus a motorcycle he never wore a helmet on) and spent a great deal of his time and money racing and talking about the Porsches, and the other, when I said, excitedly, on one of the first warm days, "Hey, you should get a bike so we can ride to stuff!" said to me completely seriously, "Why would I want a bike when I have a car?" - so, since neither of these guys ended up having the values I hold dear about people and life and the world and how to treat each other, etc., I figured out the common thing missing from them: the bicycle.
Anyway, I also saw my crush at the Tour de Fat - the guy who taught my bike workshop. He's still super cute. But of course, out of nervousness and then later out of tired, 3-beer tipsyness, I awkwardly shouted over to him - yes, twice - "Hey, it's my bike teacher!"
Did I talk with him like a normal person? No. Did I find out if he was single? No. Did I embarrass myself totally? Yes.
Then that night, I was in bed at 9pm. That is all.
2 comments:
It sounds like an awesome weekend. your mom knew it was you because she's your mom. I can look at a sea of people and always know where my girls are in that. That cord is never really cut, you know.
That's so funny... you moms. I asked my mom how she knew it was me and she said "I just knew!"
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