Bacon Assisted Suicide

if you lived here you'd be home by now

2009-01-28T15:47:00.000-08:00

I was born in Greece but moved to the states at the age of 5. My dad always remembers it by the huge blizzard of 81 that hit Chicago. Nice welcome to our new home. We moved to a neighborhood just outside of the city called Oak Park. Even as a child I knew Oak Park was special. Not only was it historic - Frank Lloyd Wright perfected his Prairie Style architecture there -- but it was people-centric.

It had all the elements of what a community should have -- parks, churches of all kinds, a beautiful ornate post office that scared the living shit out of me, the library and a mall. Malls have changed so much since then. I cringe at that word, but the mall in Oak Park was...well...an outdoor mall built as a pedestrian walkway. This is what made Oak Park so special, everything was WALKABLE.

If I close my eyes and imagine myself walking through it, I can rattle off the stores....Benetton, a movie theater, a bookstore, a magic shop, a wig shop, the Gap with old logo (lowercase = gap), the signature Marshall Fields store, an aerobics studio, a payless shoe source, a costume shop, a Poppin Fresh (later became Baker's Square), and of course Thick Pan Alley....a pizza place that was coincidentally, off an alley.

There were other stores too, but they held no interest to me as a child. I only cared for the bookstore, the magic shop, thick pan alley and the Marshall Fields store (architecturally it amazed me and I loved the clock on the side). The wig store and costume shop actually frightened me. I would always tense up a bit walking by the windows.

My brother is 4 years older than me, old enough back then to have looked after me while our mom worked in the city.

I should mention that my parents soon divorced when we moved to the states, so we lived with our mom. Our dad lived in Lansing, Michigan and does to this day.

We were latchkey kids. We played in construction sites, we put pennies on railroad tracks and awaited anxiously for the freight train to barrel through and smash them to oblivion. We went to the library only to get shushed by the librarians for being too hyper, we went to the mall and spent our allowance on silly things, like those fake cigarettes from the magic shop.

Our mom would come home and George and I would proudly be 'smoking'...really it was just flour in there...you blew on it gently and it gave the sense of smoke coming out. We were so delighted with ourselves. I guess knowing how to cook for ourselves gave us the entitlement of enjoying a fake cigarette after a meal.

Our mom was horrified, but I think she found our ways as clever. I should probably ask her.

We later moved on to Forest Park, the neighborhood next to Oak Park. Not a charming place, but still walkable. I walked to and from school. In fact, our apartment was right across the street from the school. At recess I could stare up at our balcony and brag to my friends that THAT was where I lived, and THEY didn't. I definitely took much pride with this "walkability" thing.

When kids would be waiting for their parents to pull up in station wagons and transport them and 50 of the other neighborhood kids home, my brother and I would just coast on by...."Oh no Mrs. Schlitcting, we DON'T need a ride, we live RIGHT THERE, but THANK YOU".

I think the expression 'if you lived here you'd be home by now' was coined from our arrogance.

In all those years I was happy walking. The only use for the car was Greek Church on Sundays, going grocery shopping, having dinner at Jade Garden and taking family road trips. And I was just fine and dandy with this arrangement.

Nowadays I understand the joys of having a car. But I do miss the days where I didn't need one.

At the end of next month the Lance Armstrong Foundation is moving to the East side. I am eagerly preparing my new set of wheels for my commute. My Trek cruiser will be a blast to ride...I am counting down the days and wishing for good weather. I imagine myself zipping past cars, enjoying the wind on my face and feeling exhilarated. I will get to work out of breath, a little flushed and get home the same way. Maybe I will buy a front basket and buy bread along the way, like they do in Europe, or maybe feel entitled and enjoy a fake cigarette when I get home :).

Wake Up, Beaux

2009-01-13T11:51:00.000-08:00

Cycling is quite intimidating. Upon gathering gear for my new road bike at various local Austin bike shops I realized the newness of it all - surrounding me were cyclists who had been out there for years, who were building their own bikes and swapping info on the latest and greatest gear. Their network is large yet small, everyone seems to know everyone. I felt insignificant, but far from deflated :).

I met Beaux on the Jack and Adams ride back in October 2008 -- my first group ride. It was early Sunday morning and I was nervous as heck. In efforts to calm myself I went to McDonald's and got coffee and a sausage & cheese biscuit sandwich. This is what I knew, and it was damn good. What would the others say to my shameful habit? I was not sure so I ate it in private.

Riders started showing up and getting themselves ready, I did the same. Aimee introduced me to Beaux, the leader of the ride. He terrified me. Shaved, pierced, tattooed...this guy was hardcore in every sense of the word. I meekly said hello and retreated quietly. He must have thought I was extremely shy or a total snob.

Then I broke the ice, the way I usually do....clumsily and painfully. I suffered a zero mph crash before the ride started. I was clipped in and decided to 'practice' by doing a round in the parking lot. Unfortunately for me, I tipped over with a loud crash. When I got my bearings I yelled 'FIRST TIME IN CLIPS!' People chuckled. Beaux ran over to me....how embarrassing! Now this guy is peeling me off the pavement. But then again....falling results in many attractive men running to my side, so maybe it was not such a bad thing :).

I then realized I was father along than I realized in my path to being a true cyclist. While being asked...are you ok? are you ok? I replied back, yes, but is my BIKE ok?

My bike was not ok, my seat and handlebars were out of alignment. Beaux set them right. I thanked him profusely and the ride started. Considering he could have blown me out of the water, he was extremely welcoming to my newness. He always circled back to check on me and gave me words of encouragement. It really stuck.

I loved the ride and vowed to go on many others. It kicked my butt (literally!) and I was ready for more. After my fall, the truth was, I was not ok. My shoulder throbbed that entire week and I had bruised my ass pretty badly, but I didn't care. Nothing the RICE method could not fix. Besides, the very next weekend was the LS Challenge and come hell or high water I was riding.

I did end up riding, and it was exhausting and thrilling and exhilarating.

Months later after meeting Beaux (that one and only time) I got word of his accident. My friend Aimee knows him, so she emailed me the news. It was a shock that stuck with me. I accompanied her to Brackenridge ICU so she could see him and offer words of encouragement to his family. I ended up going in with her and meeting his mom.

The experience was moving.

The past months I have really embraced my nurturing side. I have held sick cats in my arms and nursed them back to health. I have offered kind words to those going through cancer. I have not been embarrassed or afraid to empathize with others, be it loss, illness, financial woes....and to put myself there with them and hold their hands and show them that brighter road.

I was not like this before, I lacked the confidence to ever say the right thing. Now I am different. I don't know what changed. Perhaps losing my grandfather and experiencing death first hand? Maybe having to make the call to put my cat Charlie down? Visiting my own cousin in the ICU, not know what to say to someone in a coma, let alone say it in GREEK? It could be my time at the LAF, being surrounded by cancer in a sometimes triumphant and sometimes ugly way. Not really sure. But it doesn't matter.

What I know now is that I have this new strength, an ability to say kind words and hold someones hand. I do not fear it. Regardless of how well I know someone it is something I can share without embarrassment.

So here is to Beaux...wake up. We are all waiting, those who know every detail of you and those who don't. Regardless, we all want the same for you; WAKE UP.

I do not smell

2009-01-13T08:26:00.000-08:00

I actually smell quite good, contrary to the first blog that was posted on my behalf by Stephen. I think he is projecting, because this morning I think he kinda smelled.

I'm Antonia... I smell funny

2009-01-13T08:14:00.000-08:00