Author: Sloan

Keep Your Lady Balls In Check

/ Sloan / 2 Comments

My bed has sucked my morning mojo out of me. My OkCupid profile claims that I’m an extreme morning person, I’ve always said I’d rather wake at 5am rather than stay up until the wee hours of the morning. I love enjoying a cup of coffee or tea alone with a book, my journal or my computer. I love the alone time of the early AM and savor every minute I’m up before my roommates are. But since I bought the bed that I wanted, the firm mattress my back craves, the cozy down comforter I stole from my mother’s house when I moved, the pillows that support my neck just right–I have a really hard time getting up. The bed swallows me up and hugs me tight so I am unable to leave when, in the past, I would normally wake.
Things I enjoy doing in the morning: running, reading, writing, researching, cooking, journaling… my basic brain function is best between the hours of 6am and about 2pm. After that I can’t promise my best self, my best attitude, or my best effort to care about anything. So in an effort to be a better human being I’m trying to get up earlier again.
Yesterday the alarm went off at 5:16, yes, a Sunday alarm set for 5:16. By 5:42 I had laced my running shoes, buddled up as much as possible and set off to run five miles before the sun was set to rise at 6:49am. I’m determined to run all winter long and train for a January half-marathon. In college I did, why not now? So Sunday morning was to prove to myself that I still have the lady balls to get out there and log the miles–no matter how far below freezing Chicago gets!
The still morning reminded me how quiet the streets of Thailand were when I began my training there. However the temperature difference, the idea of quiet alone time was still the same. Morning mediation on my feet. Discovering what the city looks like, smells like, feels like, early in the morning is something I’ve done every place I’ve lived and visited. This was a first for me in Chicago–I’ve walked the streets late at night after a night out with friends, exploring new bars, parks and taken bus rides to avoid the cold or heat. But nothing compares to being on foot, alone on streets you’ve walked or rode a bunch of times before the sun peaks above the skyline.
Everything looks different in the morning. Stores are asleep, coffee shops are just blinking an eye to be awake and get the day started–running past them shut down and dark the city looks so different, it looks at peace.
I am at peace when I’m out there. My run yesterday cleared my head for the day to come, set my schedule and tired my legs. At my turn around point there was a bank clock and thermometer that read “6:04am 14 degrees”. Now I KNOW I can run that far, in that cold, that early. Every time I do that I have mixed emotions; now I know I can do it, so that means I can’t wuss out–and now I have to one up myself, I have to go further, earlier and when it’s colder just to prove to myself I can.

This morning I wussed out so I could spend the early moments reading and writing. But tomorrow, tomorrow is a new day and winter is only getting colder.

What a Crutch

/ Sloan / Leave a comment

I’ve spent the last two, almost three, full days, cell phone free. My phone and I parted ways on Chicago Ave while riding my bike to work. She decided to commit suicide by jumping. The road is in the process of being paved, my phone and I had been stuck at the hip for over a year and I think she was feeling suffocated. She went for the plunge somewhere between Larabee and Orleans, I imagine, she held her breath and took the leap she had longed for.
When I arrived at work and realized she was gone I went searching, calling and leaving messages–wondering if she was alone, cold and scared, or perhaps happy to be out of the confines of my pocket and purse. She grew wings when I wasn’t looking and needed the independence.

Day 1:
The phantom vibrations were unbearable. I kept grabbing my seat pocket thinking I was receiving a text or Facebook notification. I wanted to check the weather, check the time, check my work schedule… I couldn’t. I suppose I have a watch, I could look out the window, and I could ask someone else about work. All day at work I wanted to update my status to tell people I had lost my phone… but I couldn’t. I worried about who was texting me, would they be mad at the lack of response? What if there was an emergency?
The ride home I was at a stop light and wanted to snap a photo for InstaGram but my camera was at home and my cell phone was living the life she always wanted. When I arrived home and needed to get in touch with people about plans tomorrow I used Facebook and email, that sufficed and got me through the night. No alarms needed to be set, at least I could depend on my inner clock to take care of waking me on time.

Day 2:
The vibrations lessened, I remembered why I bought a watch, and I wasn’t so concerned about the SnapChaps from across the world I was missing out on. When I left my house I wasn’t able to track the CTA but instead relied on knowing another bus would be there promptly if I miss the first one. As I sat on the bus I started to noticed people. I watched and observed the behavior and lack of interaction we have with one another because of technology. The young professional across from me reading on her I-pad. The teenagers texting. The older guy listening to music with his eyes closed, completely unaware of his surroundings.
I locked eyes with an elderly woman and smiled. She was sitting, like me, with an open book in her hands not reading. We were appreciating our surroundings and soaking in all of what Chicago people watching has to offer.

Day 3: (Today)
My new phone arrived today and I just picked her up. I opened the box and she feels familiar and comfortable in my hand–still asleep and so peaceful she’s slumbering the box she arrived in. I spent the day shopping, working out, walking and visiting with a girlfriend. She on her phone for part of it, me driving or observing the stores and the people walking by.
I just got home from our day and made a cup of tea, checking email and facebook and have yet to wake the new phone from her dreams. These few days remind of when I was far away traveling, no one knowing where I was or what I was doing, no texts to answer, no emails to read on the spot, no facebook messages that I don’t want to reply to–just me, me in my head answering to no one.

I think I’ll spend another hour or so hanging out with myself, reading, writing, drinking my tea before I wake her and plug my life back into such a serious relationship. It’s been a trying couple of days, I won’t say that I didn’t get lost and wish I had an electronic map in my pocket, a bus schedule and my best friends phone number–I wanted all those things more than once. But this little break has taught me to be more dependent on myself, not wishing ‘he’ would text, (well, maybe a little… maybe just wondering WHO had texted and not gotten a response.)

Take a break from your devises. Do some real people watching when you’re on public transportation or the coffee shop. Rely on intuition rather than Google Maps. Write your thoughts down in a Moleskine journal rather than updating your facebook status or tweeting to your 143 followers. Say hi to that dude sitting on the bus, ask him what he’s listening to or reading. Keep your phone locked up in your pocket a little longer rather that using it as a crutch to avoid eye contact.

Break it off for a moment or two and see how you feel.

Hugs Not Drugs… Maybe a Few Drugs

/ Sloan / 4 Comments

In South America women greet women with a kiss on the right cheek. Men greet men with a firm hand shake or a quick embrace. Men greet women with a kiss on the cheek and maybe an embrace.

In Thailand people greet each other with a wai. [a prayer motion, hands to the heart, the nose or the fore head; depending on the level of respect that needs to be given.]

In my family we tend to give a quick hug or Hello while we try to figure out if a hug is appropriate. Or more likely than not we just say “Hi” and begin talking about what’s happening in our lives.

In Oregon, where I lived for a year, where I just visited for a week after being gone for a year and half, I embraced every person I greeted. I saw my old roommates, my roommates boyfriend, the peoples who’s couch I have crashed on numerous times, old running buddies, my old boss, my brother’s ex girlfriend, some dude I hooked up with years ago, some dude my roommates friend hooked up with years ago, former co-workers, actors and their girlfriends, the girl who’s dating the guy I dated once, that person who gave me acupuncture that one time… we all hugged. Every time I saw each person–whether it had been a year and half or I saw them at the coffee shop the morning before–we embraced, smiled and enjoyed each others body warmth.

I could write about the trails I hiked and ran on, the people I caught up with, the drama I’m glad to not be a part of in such a small town, the babies my friends have had, the engagement rings and the emotions I felt when I was able to spend time with people who are very important to me.

But I’m writing about hugs. When was the last time you got a really good embrace? Like, full body contact, arms wrapped around each other and you didn’t let go until you felt like you were ready to let go. Do it. Go give someone a hug, (maybe I’ll be lucky and I’ll see you right after you read this and I will get that hug!) But do it, find someone you care about and give a good hug. You know you’ll both enjoy it.

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