Tag: monologue

Cool as a cucumber

Who am I kidding?

Life has gotten a little overwhelming these days, and so has my cucumber patch.  Back in July I planted two cute little cucumber plants, that have proceeded to take over the rock in front of them (meant to divert them from growing into the grass, the fence, the neighbor’s side of the fence, and a big lady statue that came with the house.  As a result, we’ve been eating cucumbers every day since late July and making lots, and lots, and lots of pickles.  Basically, friends and family can expect pickles as  Solstichristmakwanzukah gifts and we will still have enough to get us through the winter.

I’d love to say that I’m thriving in the excitement of the 58 hours of work, home renovations (we plastered and painted BOTH bedrooms last weekend), and part-time freelance dance gigs.  Generally speaking, I crave a busy schedule and function better when I have plenty of things to occupy my head space. 

But I think last week I realized what my limits are.  When you can’t find the time to go to the dentist, brush your hair, or feed your cats, maybe it’s become a bit too much. 

If I’m to be my best self, all the time, I’m going to have to figure out what the balance is between busy and TOO busy.

I guess you have to experience the extremes before you can find that sweet spot where you have enough things on your plate to feel important, but also enough time and energy to putts around at home and pick cucumbers.

Two doors in two days

This is not my bike.

I received such generous support on my Facebook post yesterday regarding one idiot driver who perceived the bike lane on Halstead St. as a free ticket to exit his vehicle without looking in the side mirror.  I mean, it’s not like bikes ride in the bike lane anyway.

Let me recreate the scenario:

I’m riding through Greektown during the lunch hour (against better judgement).

Car driver X opens his door at the precise moment I’m passing his car.

I swerve.

He continues to get out of his car.

I yell. “Jesus!”

He mutters “…sorry…”

“…sorry…”

I’d like to emphasize that the ellipses and all lowercase letters are meant to indicate the relaxed, nonchalant tone with with the driver responded.  Awesome.  However, I lived to ride again – and today I was decked head to toe in electric green.  This afternoon, as I was riding home on Diversey a lady opened her door on me.

Let me recreate the scenario:

I’m riding West on Diversey wearing an electric green jersey, neon blue and green flowered helmet, matching sunglasses, and bright red shoes, with my super bright “Mr Blinky” light turned on.

Car driver Y opens her door at the precise moment I’m passing her car.

I swerve.

She continues to get out of her car.

I yell. “Jesus!!!!      Lady!!!”

She mutters, “I saw you….”

Okay.  Look: 

*steps on soap box*

Bike lanes occasionally have bikes riding down them.  Look in your mirror.  Roads without bike lanes also occasionally have bikes riding down them.  If you look in your mirror and see a bike coming, don’t get out of the car.  Count to two, and let the bleeping bike pass.

I’m not a bike messenger.  I’m not even a hipster.  I’m just a girl who doesn’t have her own car, doesn’t want to pay for the bus, and likes to get a little exercise from time to time.

My very life is in your hands, drivers.

Share the road.

*steps down from soap box*

Jesus.

Lauren Warnecke, M.S., M.C.


You know you are in good company when a group full of middle aged women in applique vests, young eco-hipsters (like myself), and old men who rent greenhouses for the winter can share a potluck dinner while passing around gifts of worm poo while the mistress of ceremony tells stories about her lifelong passion for compost and childhood trips to the circus to pick up elephant manure.

Last night I proudly and officially assumed the title of Master Composter. So far I think it’s safe to say the I’ve used this title much more than the one for which I owe the US government an ungodly amount of cash.
The MC program was something I did on a whim, but in hindsight it was exactly what I was looking for to engage a change of lifestyle, and perspective. I met new people who are doing incredible things to conserve our resources and reduce waste. Without this program, I wouldn’t look at garbage and wonder if my worms can eat it; I wouldn’t want to make things from scratch, or clean things with vinegar, or mend old clothes instead of buying new ones.
Humbling, indeed