Celebrating Joe

Since the drive-in movie parties of my childhood, summer has always meant birthday to me. With our birthdays just one month apart, Joe and I really get to make a season out of celebrating. I had to work on his birthday this year, so we celebrated together the day before. I got up early to run up to El Norte in Edgewater for chilaquiles and surprised him with breakfast in bed. Though they serve it all day, it's the morning cook that has the dish perfected. A single order is enough for two, plus leftovers. We had planned a long bike ride by the lake, but Joe decided we should blow it off, instead napping and relaxing until we left for a late lunch at Maggiano's. After a heavy breakfast, a chopped salad really hit the spot. We snapped photos downtown until it was time to head towards Navy Pier to see the Dark Knight Rises at Imax. Navy Pier is pretty much tourist hell on earth, but there's no better way to see a big budget action flick. It was basically a day of Joe's favorites.


But his birthday didn't end there. The following evening, we met friends at Pizza Rustica for some delicious buttery crust pizza and a blueberry gin fizz or two. In true italian form, the meal took ages, but no one seemed to mind much as the drinks kept flowing. The pizza was spectacular. We followed dinner with wine and a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity at our place. Joe was more than happy to debut his homemade set. The night was topped off with delicious cupcakes provided by Becky and Cheryl. If there's a better way to enjoy a birthday than with good friends and great food, we have yet to discover it.

Checking Off the List

One of my favorite things to do is knocking out silly little tasks that get ignored indefinitely (yet I'll leave a sink-full of dishes for a week, go figure). Last night, it was WD-40ing the door hinges. Our place was built in 1906, and while I love it, the squeal of our old paint-crusted hinges drives me up the wall, especially when I'm trying to get ready quietly so Joe can sleep in. It took about 2 1/2 minutes, and now I can sneak around our apartment like a ninja. It's the little things.

I also got my watch battery replaced yesterday. We took a pleasant stroll to the watch repair shop (with a pit stop for cantaloupe bubble tea), walked into the ammonia-filled workroom, and walked out 4 minutes later with a slight buzz and a working timepiece. My sister and her then-boyfriend had given me this cute little Fossil watch when I was maybe 16. It disappeared somewhere within a couple years, and was forgotten about shortly after. Years later, I got a call from my dad, who had just had the roof of my childhood home replaced. The roofers had found, in the leaf-jammed rain gutters, my watch, still ticking away, without a scratch or rust spot in sight. If a watch can survive me, you know it's a quality one.

Reminiscing

Ray Bradbury, man. He was one of the first influential writers that I really got into. I'm glad he made it to the ripe old age of ninety-one. 

It was the Illustrated Man that snagged me. I still have the copy that I borrowed from the Mid-Continent Public Library when I must have been about 12 (sorry, librarian friends, it's true). My aunt Ireta described it to me one night while we listened to music--mostly Metallica, Fleetwood Mac, Jon Secada--at her kitchen table and she gave me sips of her Zima. Of course, she completely butchered the plot. The only thing she nailed was that there was this guy and he had a lot of weird tattoos. We checked it out and I read it aloud to her while she cooked dinner. I've read it dozens of times since. We also read an unofficial and unflattering biography of Martha Stewart that summer. Ireta died of lupus several years ago, but those late nights spent at her table are still vivid. I'm glad I stole that book. 

Getting Sappy

Moonrise Kingdom, as I preluded to, was highly enjoyable. Without giving too much away, it was Wes Anderson at his Wes Andersoniest. While Joe enjoyed it too, he struggled with the fact that it sticks to that formula, whereas I don't really care--I prefer to ignore the rest of his body of work for the moment, and get swept up in a well-done and compelling film. But who am I? You didn't come here for a movie review (why are you here, again?).

Maybe it's just because I could relate to it. I was a bit of a loner. I had a young romance in which it was us against the world (they are 12, I was 14). In my case, when it was finally just us, it became us against us. Sometimes you have to face that all your problems can't be blamed on external factors. Of course, the credits role long before Sam and Suzy's relationship gets real.

That's what I thought this captured nicely--the urgency and all consuming power of first love at a tender age, particularly when it's forbidden (all the while managing to keep it charming, not sappy). Which, for me, was a nicely bittersweet taste that evening.

Mourning

If you see this bike, please throw a brick
 at the asshole who's riding it.

I was going to post about seeing Moonrise Kingdom yesterday, and the many ways it was reminiscent of my childhood romance (spoiler alert--mine ended in divorce). But that will have to wait because some ASSHOLE stole my bike Hector from behind my building last night! Where is the logic? It has little-to-no value. It was next to half a dozen much flashier bikes that were just asking for it. And yet, my sweet little work horse was taken against its will. I think the ASSHOLE must have realized I had some faith in humanity left, and decided to crush it. Also, I had a cable lock. That was dumb.

Sigh, there goes my transportation/exercise/tour guide for the summer.

DMVing

Next, please. 

 My out-of-state license was expired (which I woefully discovered while trying to rent a car at the airport at 11pm). It was time to become a real Illinoisian. So yesterday I trekked an hour by train/bus to the DMV. What can I say about the DMV that hasn't been said a million times? To keep it succinct, I'll just say this ---bleh. It didn't help that I was beat and it was a bleak day. I don't know if I've ever been to the DMV when this wasn't the case.

But I made it, and got in the first of 6 lines I would eventually stand in. Seems I would have to take a written test. Do I really need to know how many underaged passengers a minor can have in their car while in the graduated license program? Apparently so.



One interesting thing I learned- an Illinoisian parent can cancel their teen's license at any time for any reason until they are 18. I'm glad I didn't grow up here, because I'm pretty sure my parents would have tried this at some point. They were fond of inventive punishments. I once had my bedroom door taken away for what would be the worst summer of my life. The only way I could win it back was by conceding to a wrestling match with my mother. Silly mom, you can't win against the inner rage of a teenage girl with no privacy.

I passed the written test with flying colors, took my picture, and got the hell out of there. Happy to know I've got another 4 years before I have to do it again.

Not bad, eh? 

Kite Flying

 Last weekend we went to the Montrose Harbor Kite Festival and oh.my.god it was satisfying. It was as if we were visiting a magical hill of happy children, each leading their little flying pets across the perfect sky. And we got to fly our parachuting Hulk kite. Joe and I asked ourselves why kite flying was such a rare treat when we were children. It's a free outdoor activity, something parents usually covet. Why weren't we headed out for the windy hills every weekend? After taking twin three-year-olds out for a fly later a few days later, I've realized that it's because kite flying is a pain in the ass. No wonder my parents never wanted to take us - it's the adults that get stuck winding it in, chasing it down, and fixing it after the damn thing crashes into the dirt one too many times. And now I'm the adult. Crap. Well, I will continue to kite fly this summer (especially since I found a butterfly kite in our storage space last night), but every weekend? Nuh uh.