played into hibernation

It is not a fun time to be a Bears fan in Packer Nation.

Truth be told, it never really is. However, when the prize for winning the game is a ticket to Super Bowl XLV, it's just that much more fun.

Yes, that was sarcastic.

To be fair, I (partially) brought it upon myself. I was trash-talking Packers fans all week. And as much as I wanted the Bears to punch their ticket to the Super Bowl, my gut was saying otherwise (admittedly, I picked the Packers to win). But I continued to trash-talk nonetheless; even during the game where at times I wondered if the Bears would decide to show up and play.

All in good fun, right? Right....until Monday morning.

I'm the only Bears fan in my office, and I wore black in mourning. It was duly noted by numerous co-workers that the Bears lost. And yes, I did expect it. My boss even brought it up in a meeting - just to razz me. The only upside is that I won $20 in the Packer pool for the week. However, I would have preferred a Bears win.

Really, I don't mind "the Bears still suck" comments (note: I actually think that's a funny song by Happy Schnapps Combo even if I don't agree with it) and other assorted smack from people I talk to or see on a regular basis, or those I consider my good friends. I view it as what it's intended - a friendly rivalry, maybe in a twisted way, a sign of affection. What I don't like is people who rarely bother to talk to me otherwise finding it appropriate to talk smack. The camaraderie just isn't there, and thus, it almost seems slightly malicious.

In the end, we all have to remember it's just a game (albeit a big game). The Packers played better and deserved to win. Although I am happy to see the Bears have a formidable back-up QB in Hanie. And I hope the Packers beat the crap out of the Steelers.

Until NFL 2011...BEAR DOWN!

last words

As of late, I have discovered the TV show "How I Met Your Mother". Yes, I ask myself why I didn't start watching sooner. Last night's episode was entitled "Last Words". The premise was that Marshall's father passed away suddenly. His mother and brothers spoke of what his father's last words to them, while Marshall struggled to remember what his father's last words to him were. Yes hilarity did ensue down his path of recollection, but it did get me thinking about loved ones last words to me.

The first two people I thought of are Grandmom and Granddad, who passed away in 2009 and 1998 respectively.

I'm told I adored Granddad as a kid. I remember him taking me to my first Orioles game and teaching me about baseball in general. (And yes, you can partially blame him for me being a Cubs fan.) Granddad didn't say much, so I can't think of his last words to me directly. I can, however, recall his last words about me on Christmas Day 1997 (in response to my second cousin nailing me in my newly-pierced navel with a Nerf gun): "Don't mess with Bec. She's a tough cookie."

I've never though of myself as tough, but when I'm going through a difficult time, I remember those words and it helps me through.

Similar to Granddad, I don't recall Grandmom's last words to me specifically. What stands out in memory is my phone conversation on Mother's Day 2006. She was telling me stories about her and Granddad's day trips to Milwaukee from Chicago back in the day and how she liked Milwaukee a lot. Then she suddenly asked, "Do you still draw? You have such creative talents. You should be using them."

Oddly enough, a month later I made a career switch and started my first marketing/graphic design job. While those definitely weren't her last words, they're the last words I vividly remember (and obviously stuck with me).

Then there are Mom and Dad, who thankfully, are both alive and kicking.

The good thing is that I no longer hang up on my mother when she pisses me off (although I think that was a college/early 20s phase). Maybe she really doesn't piss me off anymore, or maybe I've matured. Either way, I actually enjoy talking to Mom weekly, with the last words of every conversation being, "Love you."

It seems only fitting that I end with Dad, based upon the HIMYM episode. I don't talk to Dad nearly as often as I used to, which I miss, but I know he'll be there if I need him (as will Mom). In fact, the last time I actually talked to him was when he dropped me off at the airport.

But I remember the last words: "Love you sweetie."

swimming for burritos

In June of 2008, some of my friends were talking about competing in an event called The Burrito Union10-Hour Triathlon - or now better known as "death by tri". Not being a quiet person, I pipped up by giving my opinion on running (it should only be done whilst chasing a volleyball or soccer ball), biking (doable) and swimming (by far the easiest of the three).

Me and my big mouth. I should have never mentioned that swimming was easy, nor divulged the fact I was a competitive swimmer.

As it turns out, they needed swimmers for their three-person teams. How "death by tri" works: a team of three people - although some crazy folks did it all themselves - strives to complete as many triathlons (600m swim, 14 mi bike, 3.1 mi run) they can in a 10-hour period. One person swims, one bikes, one runs. After much prodding, I told my friends I'd think about it.

I remember talking to my dad about it, because that constitutes "thinking about it". The conversation went something like this:

B: Dad, my friends are doing this "death by tri" thing and want me to do the swimming part. What do you think?

D: Bec, what's the worst thing that could happen?

B: Well, I could drown and die.

D: (laughs) You took to swimming like a fish and you're a strong swimmer. You're not going to drown. Go for it.

Thanks to encouragement from Dad (and continued prodding from friends) I agreed to swim on a team. Six weeks before the event. After I hadn't swam a lap in three years. I started swimming 3-4 times per weeks leading up to the event, so at least I wouldn't perform horribly.

Fast forward to the event. It was a chilly early morning (6:30 am) in Superior, Wisconsin but the masses were ready to compete. And I was ready, or so I thought. We were told the water temperature was 73 degrees. I'm sure it was....at the surface...but it was balls cold. Once I adapted to this ice bath, I was fine. Actually, more than fine. I passed both my friends who were swimming as well (on all the split times). Yes, they were beaten by a girl :) And the biker on my team had to hurry up because he wasn't ready for me to finish that early. Perhaps those days of 6:30 am swim practices finally paid off.

All in all, team PowderPuff Samurai finished five triathlons in 10+ hours. It may have been crazy, but it was a lot of fun. And I'm glad I was "coerced" into it.

We even found out that Duluth-Superior is a fun town, complete with patronizing Burrito Union, the sponsor of the "death by tri". I'd go back to Duluth just to eat there, being a self-anointed burrito connoisseur. Plus we discovered a mall of bars, meaning that one can bar hop without going outside. Seeing it gets balls cold in those parts it's a damn good idea. I also found out that UM-Duluth has an underground tunnel system for the same reason.

But why be contemplative about this more than two years later?

Turns out a plan is in place (unveiled to me on New Year's Eve no less) to return to Superior in 2011. And, go figure, swimmers are needed.

To swim or not to swim?

behind the lens

By the end of this month, I may have actually succeeded in getting my trip pics from Spain (2010), Greece (2008) and the Baltic Sea (2006) into photo books. Better late than never, I must say. This may be a sign of the apocalypse.

As one would expect, Spain was the easiest to complete as I was there the most recent and it was the freshest in my mind, followed by Greece. The Baltic cruise proved to be a bit more difficult as I couldn't really differentiate between Denmark and Sweden at first (or fifth) glance. Eventually it all started to run together. And based upon the number of pictures taken, I had an affinity for the Slavic areas of Russia and Estonia as well as Germany. (I'm Polish & German....go figure).

Yes, it was nice take the pictorial view of my travels. However, in looking at the photos from 2006 and then the ones four years later, I noticed something. I believe my photographic eye has improved.

As someone who doesn't brag about her talents (or lack thereof), this is of revelation-type proportions. Maybe Spain is easier to photograph, than say Finland, thus the photos came out better. Well, at least it's more intriguing - no offense to the Finns. Then I thought it could have been the camera, but I used the same camera in 2006 and 2008. There's even a difference between those two years, the Greece more exciting than Finland argument aside. But even after (over)rationalizing, I came to the same conclusion: the photos really are better. (Note: you can actually judge for yourself by viewing my photo blog. Yes, this is a shameless plug.)

It is true that I did have a photography interest when I was younger, and even took a class in high school. And this was old school with the film developing in the darkroom. I even had a fancy-schmancy camera and everything. But the female teacher favored the boys, so I somewhat lost interest (and maybe sheer stubbornness played a part as well). After that, I pretty much only took photos of friends and stuff. Nothing serious.

It was the Baltic cruise that piqued my interest again.

After that cruise, I started carrying my camera around a bit more often just to get a little more "experience" behind the lens. Of course this also sometimes leads to taking pictures whilst driving, which is not recommended. It also led to the role of being official photographer where I work, which includes visiting facilities and capturing the therapist/patient interaction for marketing materials. Another example of how a hobby became part of my career.

Nowadays, I almost aways have my (or work) camera on me. Yes, I may very well be that person along the lakefront or driving down I-94 with her camera in hand. However, photography has allowed me to capture life's moments such as a rainbow over the Marquette interchange to a nine-month old stuffing his face with avocado, as well as to have a visual memoir of my travels. While I do enjoy sharing my photos (especially the travel ones) if asked, I really photograph for myself - simply for the art and escapism of it all.

To quote Ferris Bueller's Day Off: "Life goes by pretty fast, if you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." Photography allows us to stop, observe and capture those life's moments that we might otherwise miss, forever.

"to the cloud"

For those of you who are not aware, Windows 7 has supposedly created an "easy Photoshop type application" as part of the "Cloud" platform - although the terms "easy" and "Photoshop" usually don't go together for the novice or unexperienced user. As a result, the phrase "to the cloud" was born - as evidenced by the commercial below:

I found this commercial humorous to begin with. However, after seeing the attempts at a Loss family photo this Christmas, "to the cloud" takes on a whole new meaning and is now personal (see below). My apologies to my sister-in-law Kelly - we really didn't give you a lot to work with (and trust me, I know you only shared the "good" ones).

Now that I view these photos, I don't even think "the cloud" could help us....

*sigh*

xmas, DC style

Well, it's now the 3rd day of 2011. The holidays have come and gone; and now it's time to get back to the grind known as "life"....

Yet it's never a bad idea to reminisce about the past, no matter how recent.

I did manage to sneak in a slightly more than 48 hour (52, to be exact) jaunt out to DC to visit the immediate fam for Christmas. The reasons for the short visit include the Caye-guy factor and the "interesting" situation with my parents (which could be a blog entry in and of itself) - oh, and a $135 plane ticket.

I spent Christmas Eve with Mom. Once I got home, I had to call Clyde's to make dinner reservations. Why this fine tradition has been bestowed upon me, I have no idea. But - 10 pm dinner reservations...check. Next on the list: gift wrapping. I started wrapping presents and, in typical fashion, Mom "commented" on my inability to cut a straight line whilst cutting the paper. You try cutting paper on a table not big enough for the gifts. Honestly, I don't think Gavin or Liam or Dad cared (or even noticed). A lot of tape and jagged edges later...gift wrapping complete. This was followed by going to Christmas Eve mass. Now, I am not a church-goer and as a result, I have been referred to as a "Santa Baby", meaning I only go to church on Christmas. Oh well. If it makes Mom happy, I can oblige. Maybe that's why she never objects to listening to "John Denver & the Muppets: A Christmas Together" CD repeatedly. (Note: Best. Christmas. CD. Ever.) Although I should have had Bailey's before mass, not after. Dinner at Clyde's, as always, was fabulous.

Christmas Day began with Mom & I opening presents, and eating sticky buns (and me picking off the icky nuts and giving them to Mom). This year, it was anti-climatic as Mom bought her gift previously (and I still had to wrap it) and I'd already gotten a chunk of mine ($$ for a LCD TV, which has yet to be purchased). However, I am happy to report that my Newsweek subscription is renewed until 2015. Dad came over, and it was off to my brother's for Christmas festivities.

(Yes, my brother hosted us, plus Kelly's mom & Willie, this year. Due to the "stellar" communication skills Dad's family possesses, no one got back to Mom so she decided not to host. Go Mom!)

Once in the car, Dad turned off the Muppets CD. Blasphemy! However, we got my brother's and I told him, so he put the Muppets on repeat. Three times of repeat. All was now well with the world. Well, I'm sure the large quantities of alcohol my brother and I were drinking helped too. I think Liam wanted in on the action too but he was brutally rebuffed.

And what is Christmas without presents? Bring it! Now, when there are a three and one year old around, there are LOTS of presents. It's crazy! My brother and I concluded that when you are an adult child, you get screwed at Christmas. Apparently the fleece blankets I made were a hit, even if Gavin thought the lizards on his blanket were frogs. Frogs, lizards...close enough right? And what Christmas would be complete without a visit from Santa? My only complaint...Santa indirectly called me fat (ummm...Santa could lose a few too). But the kids were entertained - loved it may be too strong of words. See for yourself...

Sunday consisted of watching football...and the Redskins actually winning by a field goal in OT. Funny, that's how they won when I was there in October as well. Oh and monitoring the weather for the blizzard that literally hit the coast. Seriously, DC got about an inch which resulted in safe travels back to Mil-town.

Overall, it was a good Christmas. On some level, I missed seeing my aunts, uncles and cousins even if I really have nothing in common with them. But family is family and there will always be that bond, whether I want it or not. However, seeing Gavin and Liam on Christmas more than made up for it.

Here's hoping you and yours had a happy holidays!