Author: Lauren

Bike Commuter

I admit it. Operation Bike Ride 2011 has, for the most part, been an abysmal failure.

Until now, that is.

I ran out of money on my transit card, and decided to pay for a tune-up on my bike instead of reloading my card.

It just so happened that I got my bike back from the shop on Chicago’s “Bike to Work Week”, and it also just so happened that it rained 3 out of 5 days during that week. I rode all that week, and every day since. And it’s pretty much rained every day.

The pros:

  • zero dollars spent on transportation in two weeks
  • getting my bikini body back
  • shaving 30 minutes off my commute time

The cons:

  • having to use my bike as a clothes line and publicly display my sports bra on a daily basis

Zen and the Art of Reno


I knew that renovating a home wasn’t going to be easy, and at times that it wasn’t even going to be fun. What I wasn’t prepared for was the emotional highs and lows of living there while it was going on. I suppose I’ve adjusted fine to living in a chaotic environment (from a lady who thrives on routine), but to exist in one in which I don’t see progress is frustrating. Plus, all the things I usually do to relieve stress, like knit, or workout, or cook, aren’t possible because the things I need to do those things are either still in boxes or covered with a tarp, or dust, or both. Awesome.

But here’s the uplifting point in this mild rant: this week our new place is still dusty and still chaotic and still under construction, but we are starting to see progress. In renos and in life, progress is important. You can deal with a lot as long as you feel like today was a day that you got closer to your goal.

Money is fiction

I was absolutely fascinated by This American Life tonight in which they raised their most “stoner” question to date: What is money?

Money is on the mind lately as we’ve had to come up with a lot of it in the past couple months to scrounge together a down payment for the house. We’ve managed to stick a few thousand dollars under the mattress in the past two months in order to make this happen. But, really, it’s in a bank account and is only a number on paper. The money doesn’t actually exist.
You see, I get paid by direct deposit. My employer tells my bank that what I do is worth X amount of dollars and tells the bank to add it to my account. But no tangible currency is ever exchanged. Then I write on a small piece of paper addressed to my landlady that I am giving her X amount of dollars to live in her building, but, again, that piece of paper represents the idea that I’m giving her something valuable which, in fact, doesn’t exist.
Money, apart from being a great song in Cabaret, makes the world go ’round, but we are living under the false pretense that it actually has value. In my dreams, we are living in a cashless society where I can give you my embroidery and in return you give me some shoes. That hasn’t happened since the industrial revolution… in other words, since people stopped making things that have real value. Now, we sit at desks and type all day and my employer thinks that my time has value (which, obviously, I agree with) and so they “pay” me with fake numbers that I can use to go out and buy potatoes with, or, write on a small piece of paper to my landlady. Maybe some day we will run out of fake numbers and go back to simply bartering for those potatoes instead.
What really gets to me about this-what I fail to understand- is that if money is fiction, then how come it matters so much when you don’t have it?
For fun: watch this

On Ravenswood

I’ve got Portage Park on the brain as we prepare for home ownership in a new neighborhood, but I think it’s important to take some time to reflect on the great years we’ve spent in Ravenswood. Being in a slightly undiscovered area of the ‘wood we’ve had the privilege of being walking distance from Lincoln Square, Andersonville, and the heart of the neighborhood, but tucked away in a little quiet corridor where yuppies and puppies are scarce and upscale, overpriced restaurants are non-existent. Here’s what I think I will miss the most about my block:

  • Garcia’s
  • The nice Indian guys at the little liquor store
  • Garcia’s
  • The odd demographic on the block of latinos, lesbians who can’t afford A-ville, and millionaires with babies
  • The Crafty Beaver around the corner
  • Three full store-fronts of knitting yarn. Actually, strike that. Arcadia just closed and I can’t say I’m all that surprised because, come to think of it, there was not very much yarn in there for three store fronts and the ladies were mean. But since neither impacts their new business plan as an online store, I wish them all the best.
  • and, Garcia’s
So long, old pal. You may be seeing me anyway from time to time, if for no other reason than to secure a late night burrito the size of my head with extra avocado. mmm.
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** You may not think this directly relates to the primary content of this blog, but fear not. Ravenswood is an inspired neighborhood of forward-thinking urbanites who cherish their neighborhood gardens, green home design, and post-industrial flair. It is a place where you can walk safely through alleys and find raspberries, pole beans and roses growing freely. It is the people of this great place that inspire me to grow things and make things and cook things and I will miss it. However, we are on to the next chapter of our lives, to a place where I don’t have to keep my bikes in my bedroom or ask my land lady if I can put a compost bin in my yard.