Stand By Your Man

It was Tammy Wynette who said:

Sometimes it's hard to be a woman
Giving all your love to just one man. 
You'll have bad times
And he'll have good times
Doin' things that you don't understand.
But if you love him you'll forgive him.
Even though he's hard to understand.
And if you love him oh, be proud of him. 
Cause after all he's just a man.

Did Tammy know that today one woman would have to stand next to her man in a courtroom in downtown Chicago and be forced to listen to guilty verdicts (17 out of 20 charges to be exact).

Today's announcement of Rod's future has been somewhat tongue-in-cheek. Even text messages from my Mom indicated our shared joy in seeing justice served. As a politician, I'm not a fan (don't worry Single Girl keeps politics out of this - except in the bedroom of course). Guilty verdicts aside, does Patti stand by her man?

What has your man done where you've had to channel your inner Tammy and say, "after all he is just a man." Was it a in appropriate comment like yes that dress does make your butt look big? Or something more extreme like I'd like to sell the seat to the senate for some big buckaroos.

Regardless of the reason behind your Tammy moment, you may have found yourself at a cross roads making a decision that could affect your life, your children, your home. At what point do we toss our inner Tammy and instead focus on our level of tolerance?

I suppose there are no hard and fast rules to situations like these. Do we look at the specific charge or the fact that our relationship has been put to the test?

I vote for both.

When my lackluster boyfriend of 5 1/2 years announced he was seeing someone else for almost the entire time we dated (ahem.. excuse me, got caught), it was about the crime and the principal behind it. If he had been cheating for a month would the punishment have been any less?

What's the lesson here for our dear friend Patti?

In the next days, months, years, her relationship will continue to be tested in ways that none of us can possibly imagine. Her inner Tammy will be tested over and over again. Our lesson as women will be to help our fellow Tammy see the error in her ways, support her, and stand by her even if we don't understand.

Eat. Pray. Eat Some More. Love.

There are two scenes in Eat Pray Love that I am completely in errr... love with? The first scene includes Julia Roberts and her new blond friend that she has met in Italy dining out for lunch, enjoying what appears to be some of the most amazing pizza ever. Julia's friend only eats one piece and looks on as Julia's character devours every bite. She asks what's wrong and explains that she's gained a ton of weight in the last few weeks and can't fit her jeans. Julia responds with a ground breaking response:

This is probably my most favorite scene in the entire movie. Now some of my friends might say, "Yes, Kate. So why are you wrapped up in weight?". I've been doing a full body cleanse Monday. I'm doing pretty well and adjusting slowly. I've eliminated alcohol, red meat, processed sugars, and carbs. Sound s like a lot but my lunch today was packed with a turkey burger, an arugula salad and homemade dressing (yes! I made homemade dressing. What?!). 

Over the holidays (and in my last 7 or so months of being fully single again) I've turned to food for celebrations and for social outings with friends. When I ate a box of Nerds for breakfast last week, I knew it was time to make some change. 

Years ago I found myself in a relationship where all we did was eat. I weighed in at a whopping 218 lbs. Yes, it's true... and to my good friend in Miami please continue to hide (or burn) those photos from that trip when we were all big and round. At that weight I was not healthy. The weight on my body made it hard for me to run and I just didn't take good care of myself. 

Now, 40 lbs lighter I'm still not satisfied but I'm feeling a lot better than I did before. 

Moving into the new year and my 30th birthday (big what?!?) I'll choose to enjoy food more, not become obese (again), and I'll not equate my food with how many calories I've burned the previous day.

I will not torture myself for eating a piece of bread or having a glass of wine. But I'll stop myself before I eat the entire loaf of bread and the full bottle of wine.

Let this be a lesson that while a guy will never walk out on us when they're exposed to our "muffin top"we should not walk out on ourselves.

S.G.

I'm a nice person.

It's been a little over a month since I returned from my volunteer trip in Africa and it feels like years. I received an email from a friend I made on the trip asking me, "Wo ho te sen?" which means "How are you?" in Twi which is the native language in Ghana. My heart ached for the two and half weeks that I spent teaching some very rambunctious 3rd graders and carrying bricks to build a new school. I winced when I thought of the days where we carried bowls of water on our heads from the well and drops of water would fall down my face. I secretly think I had major stomach issues from a couple of those drops falling in my mouth. I digress.

Returning back to the U.S. and ramping up rather quickly for Thanksgiving and Christmas I found myself out and about in the city with this intense need to consume. "I have to buy things," I kept telling myself. And so I found myself at the grocery store, TARGET, the mall, trying to find things that I needed and getting rid of things that I don't.

The holidays bring out the best (and worst) in many of us. I found myself at the grocery store buying cream cheese for a raspberry cheesecake (it was in fact delicious by the way) and I graciously thanked the woman behind the counter and wished her a happy holiday. I smiled, walked back to my car, hopped in and drove home.

I remember when I wasn't so happy. When a trip to buy cheesecake felt like the end of the world.
Now things are quite different.
I'm filled with love and faith.
I gave a homeless person $20 on my way to my Dad's house on Christmas day.
I believe in the good in people again.


Experiences from my younger days molded me into the person that I am.
Bad experiences hardened me from opening up and taking risks.
Every day that I move away from those experiences, is a new day to take a risk.
A new day to share love.
The farther we move ourselves from those people, that behavior, whatever those "bad" things may be, the more we move back over to good.

It's been a good amount of time since I've been in a bad thing.
The days and months away have me finding myself and getting back to the true person I am.

I am hopeful and giving.
I am selfless and loving.
I believe in the good in people.
I am a nice person.

I (Am)Sterdam

Single girls goes on vacation. A delay at Ohare forced me to miss my connection in JFK which would ultimately get me to Africa.

The Delta gate person was incredibly friendly and accommodating. I didn't really have a choice because they had already taken my bag from me. She was kind enough to reserve me a sleeper seat on another flight that would could connect to Africa. Then I was informed I'd be flying to Amsterdam first.

I spent 8 hours waiting at Ohare for my flight to depart. Another 6 hours en route to Amsterdam and I now have a 7 hour layover here. With the recent "suspicious package" discovery I'm going to play it safe and stay in the airport.

It's 2 a.m. Chicago time and I'm wishing there was a bed nearby. I'll do my best to stay up as long as possible and make it through to Ghana. A not so pleasant reaction to malaria medication had me close to tossing my cookies on the plane. The next flight should be less nauseating!

No dating stories wrapped up in the post, folks. Although I suppose I haven't done any alone international travel in two years, since my trip to Japan. I'm traveling alone again as a true single girl. I'm totally wingin' my travels and single girl has no problems making a little stop off in good ol' Amsterdam.

Here's to long layovers and people watching. Sometimes we're delayed in life, sometimes we're re-routed. But more often than not, we make it there.

Safe travels.

SG

On Any Given Sunday

On any given Sunday you can find me waking up around 8 a.m., making a pot of coffee, and eating greek yogurt and an egg (inspired by my sister). And on a Sunday afternoon I'm wandering the aisles of the South Loop TARGET looking for inexpensive ways to give my entire apartment a face lift.

This Sunday was different.

Sunday morning I rose with the sun, walked Bernard, and came back indoors to layer black running pants, and a green tank top. I strapped on an elastic belt lined with Gu and a race bib and clipped on my pink ipod. Ready to run.

This Sunday I ran the Chicago Marathon. It wasn't my first time, my third in fact. But this year felt completely different from previous years.

I ran for miles. I ran for hours (five and a half to be exact) and by the time I hit mile 25 I was depleted. I was on the verge of tears and I just wanted someone to hug me and tell me not to cry.

Mile 25.5 came around and the Cranberries, "Dream" came on my ipod. You're probably flashing back to Dawson's Creek. Stay with me.

Take a moment to find the song in your head or on your ipod if you have it.

Picture yourself running through the city of Chicago. Over 28 neighborhoods.
Tired.
Hopeless.
Hot.

Sun blazing.
Miles blurred.
You reach for hands who give you food, water.
Ice chips across your face and arms.
You're struggling to get to the other side.

And then just shy of mile 26 you see a familiar face.
Someone who is struggling just as much as you.
You help them.
They help you.
And you cross the finish line.
Fighting the tears.
Enjoying the moment because it comes so infrequently.

You cross the finish line proud and hopeful.
Strong.
Solid.

In life, we may not all decide to strap on a pair of New Balance and hit the pavement for 5+ hours.
But we all run marathons.
We all face obstacles that challenge how grounded we are.
They look us in the eye and ask us if we're strong enough.

The thing is, deep down you are.
You were always strong enough to get through it.
You always will be.

26.2 or whatever your marathon may be.

-SG

It's About Time

Sadly, I've had a week's worth of topics to write about (I'm keeping a running tab on a post-it note in my messenger bag) and I'm just now getting a chance to get it all out there. Why just the other day I found myself writing my next post in my head, editing my verbal story telling and thinking, "I should just get in front of a computer already and type this out." My brain doesn't actually save those drafts.

Last Saturday's evening run turned out to be a late night jog with raccoons along the lakefront. Apparently they too are working on their fitness- that, and eating garbage. But really, don't they both go hand-in-hand?

Prior to my run last Saturday, I took Bernard out for a long walk. On our usual route we passed by the Glessner museum which in the summer doubles as an after-party venue for South Loopers who say "I do". Last year during a single summer, Bernard and I walked past, poked our heads in and saw drunk white people dancing to Thriller. Bernard promptly peed on the side of the building. We're such a great match.

Last Saturday however, I saw something different. An open park behind the Glessner house gives way to a beautiful garden filled with lilac and freshly mowed grass. The people who manage the park don't allow dogs so it's perfectly manicured and you never run the risk of walking into something stinky.

The side entrance to the garden is across from our normal dog walk route and normally the gate would be closed. But not Saturday. As I approached the corner to take Bernard back in, I saw two people standing, their backs towards me. Just standing. Waiting for something.

I examined their clothing. The slightly older woman wearing a beautiful suit with gold and cream. Perfect for a cool end of summer afternoon. The younger woman to her right in a gorgeous gown. Dressed from head to toe in layers of beautiful fabric and holding a bouquet of roses tied with a perfect white ribbon.

They were waiting, out of sight for the music to begin. Mom and bride would make a grand entrance into the park and she would be married moments later.  I wondered what they must be thinking. A faint trumpet played in the back. I couldn't even see anyone in the park waiting but I knew just a few feet ahead the people who care most about them (and vice versa) were waiting to witness such a beautiful event.

I never saw their faces. But shortly after stopping and staring.. the traditional wedding song came on, Mom and daughter looked at each other and walked in to the park and disappeared.

Okay, okay, stop crying. It was moving, yes I agree. But it was so positive. So happy.
With that moment ending, a new moment began. Different stages in our lives. Different moments of waiting.

I went out and ran 18 miles that night. On the way home, I was able to run back south to the fireworks from Navy Pier and an encore performance at the Shedd Aquarium.  Those fireworks were for me. To say, these are your moments. These are your celebrations.

-S.G.

Switch-Up Saturday

This weekend I'm living on the edge. Instead of doing my 18 mile run at 6 a.m. this morning I'm throwing caution to the wind. Get this, I'm doing it tonight at 6 p.m. so I'll actually finish right at bed time. I told you it was crazy. I'll give you a minute to recover from that news.

Let's just say my social life these days is pretty awesome. Lots of time spent with my friends, evenings out, dancing at concerts (think a gentle mosh pit), and getting back on my bike. I'm organized to a point that would put Martha Stewart to shame. Meh, Martha. You've got nothin' on me. I make this organized life thing look easy.

Why even right now, I'm gracefully sipping on a caramel apple spice from the north side Starbucks while Bernard visits the local groomer to get his mohawk lined up and ready for the weekend. He's such a ladies man.

Life is good.

The summer is over and fall is here. I'm loving every minute of it and feeling great.

As a single girl, we have to make our own fun. We have to stay on our toes. Why just last night I biked the lakefront path in the dark. I was a little freaked out when I stopped for water but aside from that, I made it home in one piece. I owned the lakefront last night.

Today, I own the little table at Starbucks, typing on my computer, totally pulling off the role of the coffee computer girl.

Happy Saturday.

-sg.