Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Weekday air

After a weekend cozied in lovely spring weather and filled with garden party watermelon mojitos and romps in the city, I struggled with forcing myself to surface for some "real life" air.  This past weekend was one of those ephemeral, dream-like experiences; those you wish would linger on or, at the very least, last just another day.

Friday, boyfriend and I drove into Chicago to see my internship supervisor, and professional mentor, perform in a Second City show.  My first time at the Second City, fueled by a 7 pm grande iced coffee (being an early-riser in your twenties seriously detracts from social possibility), left me giggly for the rest of the evening.  I even brought some of the jokes back at a garden party (not at all an appropriate time or place to "angry dance") two days later.  The remainder of the evening passed in a blur; I drank Blue Moon Agave Nectar Ale, which as much as I love agave, I don't feel comfortable recommending, and I exchanged a string of texts with one of my closest pals, who I bonded with over adventures through Prague and Barcelona.  Reminiscing about Tinto, a sweet mixture of wine and Fanta sold in unassuming plastic bottles around Spain, made me inspired to try to make my own at some point (it really can't be that difficult, right?).

I had lofty plans for the next day: a trip to the Field Museum and catching Their/They're/There at Wicker Park Fest.  I burn out quickly in the city, and I possess the circadian rhythm of someone 40 years my senior, so bouncing around and asking questions at an incomprehensible pace at the museum tired P. S. Cooper (stands for Pooper Scooper, but my boyfriend refused to be called this and demanded we change it to P. S. Cooper for his dignity) and me out.  We never made it to the music festival.  Since P. S. Cooper has tickets to Lollapalooza, I think he'll survive missing this one.  I, on the other hand, might not.

By Sunday I mostly wanted to sleep, but rallied.  After a four mile jog, I made it to a decade-themed garden party. Isa Chandra inspired my contribution to the party, cucumber avocado tea sandwiches with dill and mint.  My backyard garden provided the mint (this stuff grows out of control style, I have a veritable mint forest) and the cucumbers.  I used dry dill weed because I had it on hand and it did not seem to detract from the final product. A great gluten-free option is to just layer some of the tea sandwich spread on top of a slice of cucumber. I brought some of the spread in a small dish with sliced cucumbers for those at the party who might follow a gluten-free lifestyle (my brother Matt, also in attendance, keeps gf), and the cucumbers disappeared!

Allison crafted the watermelon mojito, which proved the perfect blend of crisp refreshment and summer flavors, a totally apt garden party beverage.

Other food creations included stuffed and grilled tomatoes (they weren't vegan, but P. S. Cooper gave them great reviews!), pecan cookies, and zesty lemon hummus.  Noms aside, I took last place at croquet, dressed as a flower child, fell over a log and acquired a serious butt cheek cut that continues to hamper my ability to sit, and had the best time ever.

It really was one of those weekends that makes me grateful for the incredible people who took permanent station in my life.  What am I going to do without them in 11 days?  I hate thinking about that! I suppose that's what coming up for weekday air does, though.  It serves as a little reminder of the things resting on the horizon, jointly terrifying and exciting me, the things separate from sun brewed iced tea, Sue's fossils, and familiar faces, the things that hopefully find a place on this blog in a handful of days.  Until then, I'll continue to enjoy Chi, suburbia, and the people that make these places home.

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