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tall heights

Recently, I’ve had the chance to support friends while they pursue their passions.

These friends, although practicing different crafts, have one main thing in common: the stage.

While visiting New York this month, the stars aligned and I got the chance to watch a close friend perform in a stand-up improv comedy show, something she had wanted to do all her life (in pursuit of being Tina Fey).

As someone who is well-versed in “performance,” I can honestly say that it’s hard enough to get up in front of others with a planned routine, let alone with nothing planned and people screaming from the audience.  Not surprisingly, friend was super nervous and had purchased a new wardrobe in anticipation of the night (great calming tactic).

I did my part by bringing my most inappropriate friend.

After waiting like anxious teenagers at our first concert and feeling nervous (!), we were finally seated and prepared to laugh our buns off courtesy of an improv troupe in which friend was taking part.

The troupe worked off each other and between sketches, the host requested that the audience yell out scenarios.

Friend busied himself with sexual innuendos while I yelled out everything that came to mind (finally, an activity where my lack of filter is rewarded).

Where should they be?  Pool!  First date!  Yacht!  Roller derby!  Naked in hot tub!  Naked in the ocean!  Naked on an island!   What life moment are they in?  Kindergarten!  Teenagers at prom!  Losing their virginity!

Some great things resulted, including my favorites: a play on “Stacy’s mom” having it going on and a girl who was in the gospel choir until she realized that everyone was sleeping with each other.

Friend held her own and produced some excellent comedy.

I was astounded.

This inspirational event lead to another when I was given the opportunity to see a good friend perform while on tour.

Paul and Tim have been touring as part of a two-person duo known as Tall Heights since college.

During our decade-long friendship, I have heard these two discuss their goals in pursuing their musical dreams and work hard to make that dream a reality.

When I found out I was in the right place at the right time, I did everything I could to make it to their show.

Yes, I was in a bar wearing pink leg warmers and had just finished skating practice, but it was worth it.

They sounded incredible.  The dynamic friendship between them was evident and inviting.  The words had some real meaning.

Tall Heights released a new album this week called Man of Stonewith a video debut on the Conan O’Brien website.

Both performances left me excited for my friends, proud and inspired.

Turns out watching your friends follow their dreams is pretty… Awesome.

The Running Path

chicago path

I started running outside this week.

As mentioned in previous posts, I really started running last year.  Previous to that time, I ran because I was a) forced by figure skating coaches b) wanted to beat my brother c) wanted to beat the boys in gym class (this is true).

As I’ve matured (loose term), running has become a great way to get in a short workout, be outdoors and push my competitive needs.

Ever since I moved to the Windy City, all I’ve heard about is the famed lakefront path.

This is no exaggeration and I have a sneaky suspicion that anyone who has spent more than 35 minutes in Chicago will attest to this.  I have heard about running outdoors by the lake from my dad (he was on a work assignment in Chicago once…decades ago), from former co-workers overseas and from friends who spent a hot second doing an internship out in the Miwest.

This week I got to experience it for myself.

Chicago enjoyed warm temperatures for a whole 72 hours.  And I took advantage.

I mapped out a course and figured out how to cross the lakeshore highway (tricky underground tunnels!).

I set out running through the streets, meandered through heavy traffic on Michigan Ave and finally made it to the path where my fellow runners were.

I joined the rhythm of the other runners, turned up the volume on David Guetta’s Night of Your Life and aimed for North Avenue Beach.

Running right along the sand and the lake with no guard rail is an experience.  It reminded me of why I loved lake Michigan so much as a child and why I love it so much now: it looks like an ocean.

When I reached the tip of the bay where the beach curves and sets out in the other direction, I stopped running and turned around.

The view was incredible.

Awesome.

chicago

surprise

I love surprises.

I think it’s something my mom passed onto me.

I remember waking up every year on my birthday and having some sort of surprise next to my pillow.  I remember my mom telling me to pack on the morning of my 16th birthday without telling me where we were going to end up.  I remember receiving a note from my college study abroad program that I was going to be a couple days late arriving due to “birthday trip with mom.”

Not surprising, that when my little sister called me two weeks ago to discuss birthday ideas for dad, the first thing that came to mind was… let’s surprise him.

The plan was simple.  I was going to fly or train or drive from Chicago to suburban metro Detroit after work on Friday, surprise dad at my aunt’s house and then spend the weekend doing dad’s favorite things.

Plane tickets were inappropriately expensive for a 40-minute flight (it’s called a m-o-n-o-p-o-l-y, Delta) and the train took way too long (let’s join the 21st century, Amtrak).

Rental car it is.

I ran out of work on Friday and headed for the nearest rental car location.  15 minutes later I had somehow finagled an SUV for the price of a full size vehicle and was on my way.

I was really excited.

4 hours and about 20 rounds of Kelly Clarkson’s Catch My Breath and Backstreet Boys’ Larger than Life later, I was pulling up to my aunt’s house 5 minutes behind dad and sis, ready to ring the doorbell and yell surprise.

It was amazing to see the look on his face.

He immediately screamed “what are you doing here” and followed it up with giant bear hugs (customary) followed by Brady Bunch-style group hugs (we have our moments).

Some of the things I learned over the past couple of days:

1)      You’re never too old for a pajama party.  Dad, sis and I overestimated the size of the bed, but had some good laughs trying to sleep in it together.

2)      Your favorite movies never get old.  In our family, two films are quoted, discussed and watched over and over and over again: 1991’s Other People’s Money and 1993’s Adams Family Values.  These films might not seem extra deep, but in our family, no other movies hold more truth, provide more laughs or inspire more Halloween costumes.

3)      Re-telling the stories of our “Childhoods: The Infant Years” rarely grows tiresome.  Dad was dedicated to every detail in this weekend’s re-telling.

We had water fights in our health club’s pool, sat down to a dinner expertly prepared by amateur chef lil sis (sushi) and made the mistake of discussing current events after several glasses of wine.

This weekend was great.

It was Awesome to see dad so happy.

world trade center

I’m spending this week living my old life.

A conference has brought me to my former home.

I packed in anticipation of seeing my friends and co-workers, sitting at my old desk and paying favorite restaurants and bars a visit.

The first thing I noticed was the familiarity.

Everything was familiar.

The stomach drop was the same as we avoided an “unlikely” water landing at LaGuardia airport.  The level of inappropriate aggression in the taxi line immediately brought me back (no lady, I didn’t cut you). The part of the island where I used to live looked (and smelled) the same.  The guy who fixed my shoes smiled and waved as if no time had passed.

I hit all my favorite hot-spots.

I paid my juice-making friends at the little bodega near the World Trade Center a visit, sat outside with friends in the warm sunshine by the Hudson and cocktail-ed on my favorite rooftop.

Over the past few days, I have seamlessly slipped into old routines and caught up with friends who made my life whole on this island.

Its made me reflect on the lives we build for ourselves and the communities we create regardless of city size.

Like an old friend, New York City and I picked up where we left off without skipping a beat.

Good times old friend.

Awesome.

The Birthday Wish

candle birthday wish

I like making wishes.

Not with magical genie lamps (although I’m game if one surfaces).

But during that time of the year when it’s respectable and even expected.

Your birthday.

The only thing better than making that wish and blowing out those candles… is doing it more than once.

Luckily, I have found that birthday celebrations are never a one day affair.

Inevitably there several bday “parties,” one on one birthday dinners and belated congratulations.

Tonight was one of those nights.

A friend I hadn’t seen in 6 months flew in for a visit and took me out for some belated birthday dinner and sangria drinking.

Towards the end of the meal, we decided on a slice of tiramisu.

I’m not sure if friend asked the waiter or the waiter had a unique sense of intuition (still a mystery to me), but I do know that the cake came out with a candle in it.

I got to make my wish again.

Sweet.

Channeling little Max Reede from Liar Liar, I really put my heart into this iteration.

Hope it comes true.

Awesome.

A Birthday At Home

cake

My birthday was last week.

I spent it at home.

In true time honored tradition, I flew to my hometown to see my dad, little sister, grandparents and aunt and uncle to have my cake and eat it too.

It wasn’t your typical shots-at-the-bar fiesta (that came later).

Instead, I asked for a birthday party.

Maybe I was in a reminiscent mood.  Maybe I wanted to celebrate in a grandparent-friendly establishment.  Maybe I had my kick-ass 10th rollerblading birthday at U.S. Blades on my mind or the one that followed when my parents rented out an entire ice arena and I made my friends skate with me (watch me skate).

I wanted cake.  I wanted to wear a dress.  I wanted balloons.  I wanted toasts.

I wanted my home-based family around a table.

My dad made reservations at our favorite Russian restaurant (the only food grandpa said he would eat).  My grandma took me shopping to purchase a new birthday dress.  My little sister spent the morning picking out her most appropriate soon-to-be-a-teen ensemble (sweatpants and over-sized shirt).

The day was everything I hoped it would be.

It was nothing fancy or extreme.  But it was special.

Dad pre-ordered all of my favorite Russian dishes. Each family member took a turn at a toast.  We took pictures.  We laughed.  We reminisced.  We ate cake.

I felt blessed to be celebrating quietly (loudly) with my family (possible sign of oncoming maturity).

Absolutely Awesome.

conference

The last time I had this feeling, I was 5 minutes from stepping out on the ice for my last skate as a competitive figure skater.

I felt those nerves all over again.

I was sick to my stomach.  I was nervous.  I was hopeful.  I was excited.  I was terrified.

I was thrilled.

This week I culminated my toughest work assignment to date.

It all started 5 weeks ago when I was named the lead for a new project and promptly jumped on the chance without any consideration of how this would actually be accomplished (typical).

I dove right in and as with any new experience, basically made it up as I went along.

There was little sleep (even less than usual).  There were tears.  There was sweat.  (There was no blood).

At the beginning of this past week, I was given about a 17.8-minute notice before heading out the door (not good for the packing game) to catch a plane.  I was headed to finish off this monster and give the final presentation.

The week was made more interesting by the fact that a) I forgot some items –namely, toothpaste and enough professional outfits for the required number of days (kind of important) b) slight sleep deprivation had me more dramatic than usual (hard to imagine I know)  c) early in the week I learned that 1 presentation had turned into 3.

Let the nerves begin.

With the week’s deadlines changing by the minute and mountains of work yet to be done before the big reveal, I found myself experiencing something new.  Not only was I in charge but I had to answer for the final product.

This kind of responsibility fueled these 5 days.

It was a spirited week that involved:

1)     Falling asleep in hotel bed with room service food in hand (classy)

2)     Team camaraderie in the form of hysterical Youtube videos (breaks up stress well)

3)     Solid amounts of “working lunches” (and breakfast and dinners)

4)     Discussion with father at 11pm about the effects of stress on the face (how will I stay young forever?!)

Friday came and went.

3 presentations later I was elated.

Yes, I drank inordinate amounts of water.  Yes, I ran to the bathroom every 5 minutes.  Yes, I was truly nervous.

But I powered through and delivered.

When the client stood up, looked around the room and firmly uttered “good,” I felt truly proud of myself.

Awesome.

*http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Video_Conference_Room_West_of_Council_Chambers.JPG

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