Crazy blissful three-day weekend

So can I just tell you how completely awesome it is to have three-day weekends during the summer? It is. It's heaven. It's like a little gift, every week. Sure, the four, 10-hour days are long and arduous ... but the payoff is so worth it.

Ergo, I am determined to squeeze every last bit of summer out of summer, right up until we go back to five-day workweeks with the start of the fall season around the college. August 10 is my last long weekend, and until then, I intend to enjoy weekends like the one that just passed.

What's so special about that, you ask? Well, lemme give you the lowdown.

It started off not as intended. By the end of the day Thursday, I was pretty tired, so when I got home, my heart was not excited about getting in the car and driving to Wisconsin ... so I dawdled around the house. Did my laundry, watched a little television, went to bed early and decided the drive would wait until morning. And, of course, when I arrived at Amber and Jeremiah's, I was greeted like a long-lost relative (who had only been "lost" for a few weeks, but what does that matter?) I got my hair cut, and arrived back at the house with plenty of day left for swimming. Let me tell you, there is nothing in the world I enjoy more than suiting up for a day with water. A good book, a floppy hat, and SPF 15 ... I'm set.

Dinner was burgers on the grill and sweet corn (with chipotle mayo; try it). Then it was time to primp and head to Bobby Rockets for the best karaoke anywhere ever. I tried a few new songs, including Pat Benetar's "We Belong" ... which was almost awesome but I should've tried it earlier in the evening. Anyway, it was big fun. Along with me, Amber and Jeremiah, we were treated to Jamie's company, too, so our table was full and we had a fantastic night.

Saturday morning we slept in. See? Bliss. Then we went to breakfast (lobster quiche? seriously?) and headed back to the house so I could get a massage. How is it that, in one small area, I have found the best hairstylist (Leah at Americuts), massage therapist (Jeremiah Micholichek; for serious) and the best karaoke (Brew City Music)? And how is it that although I live in a major metropolitan area (hello, Chicago?) I can't find anything even remotely similar here? Not that it matters; I love having an excuse to just get away. What an easy thing to embrace. So, anyway, my massage ... dear heaven, it was wonderful! Jeremiah found and worked through all my knots. Perfection.

Then it was time to head over to Dale's for drinks and dinner. I met up with him and Trent, and soon Candy joined us. Music, laughter, sandwiches and cold beer - how else would you create a perfect Sunday afternoon? We sat and talked until far later in the evening than I intended. One tends to linger around the campfire. All too soon, I was headed home.

Because on Sunday morning, I was a Warrior! Time for my second annual Warrior Dash - mud, sweat and beer. Linda and I headed to Channahon (way down by where I work) for the 5k wrapped up in obstacles and swathed in mud and fire. It was incredible. If you want to learn more about that, you'll have to check out my health and wellness blog for the full report.

After the race, Linda and I parted ways so I could go to Dad's house for Father's Day - the traditional ribs-on-the-grill sorta meal, accompanied by my borrowing his laundry room so I could go home sans mud.

Dinner was delicious. My family, typically awesome. And far too soon, I had to head home. By the time I walked in the door of my third-floor penthouse, it was pretty much time to go straight to bed. Which was okay with me, because let's face it; the weekend was perfect. Why would I ask for more?

Family

There are relatives, and then there is family.

Relatives, you're stuck with. You're related by blood or by law and that's that.

Then there's family. Family is oftentimes comprised of people who are also relatives; I define it as the people you would want in your life, whether you were stuck with them or not. Lucky for me, that includes my dad, my sisters and my brother.

It also includes an assortment of old friends. A few I met in high school, and they connected me to others, so that family grew. (I even married into it for a little while.)

And then there's the one I acquired when I was in college. I don't even remember who adopted whom, but when Mike Rice and I met, sometime back in 1995, the family thing was almost instant. We were brother and sister from the word "go". I met his family, and they welcomed me to the fold. Mike married my dear friend Racheal, and the family began to grow.

We've seen each other through death, and we've seen each other through marriage; they've seen me through divorce and I've seen a few of them through the birth of their children. In every way but blood, we are family, and it all started on a warm autumn evening over a game of Frisbee at EIU.

There have been a lot of memorable events - camping trips, weddings, new cars, funerals, holidays spent together, trips to Arizona to visit (that's where Mike and Rae live these days) and vacations at the lake. And every time we are together, I feel more connected. So I should not have been surprised that last weekend, when Ryan got married (he's Mike's stepbrother, so I guess that makes him my stepbrother, too) we just all seemed to flow together in an easy sort of familial manner. I also should not have been surprised that it was tough as hell to say goodbye.

I will see them all again in July, when little brother Chunk gets married. But until then, I'm still basking in the glow of a certain sort of love that many people only discover among their relatives. I know deep down how fortunate I am to experience that kind of love from people who choose me as their family, too.

The only good photo ever taken of me and Mike.

Busy-ness

I feel like I say this every time I sit down to write, but ... life has been a bit of a whirlwind of late. Since starting the new job (can it be three weeks already?) I have been working a lot (four 10-hour days a week, plus at least an hour's drive there and back) so it's hard to write during the week. Then, there's this compulsion to pack activity into the weekends. My Fridays have been so full! Not complaining; I love that I have the time, and I've been spending it in ways that make me happy. But I am completely looking forward to taking a break ... sometime around the end of June.

Think I'm kidding? Well, take this weekend as an example. I'm spending Friday with Mike, Rae and Kaylee in the city. They're in town for Ryan's wedding. Then Saturday, I'll get up early to go to the gym, take strength training class, and then speed to Naperville for packet pickup for the SheRox tri (which is on Sunday). I'll nab my packet, shop the expo and attend an orientation meeting. (I hope it's a quick one.)

After all that, I get to fly back home, shower and primp ... then drive into the city for Ryan's wedding and reception. Yes, ladies and gentlemen ... I am attending a wedding the day before my first triathlon. I am not very smart.

So of course Sunday, I'll be (you guessed it) ... at the tri. I am so looking forward to it being over! Not just because I'll be able to say I did a tri, but because I'll get to rest. ;)

As for the tri itself, I am nervous as a cat. I don't want to embarass anyone - including myself - but there is a distinct possibility that this is the event in which I will finally, actually finish dead last. I am not a good swimmer. I am a worse cyclist. And as a runner ... well, any rational person would call what I do "walking". But that isn't what matters. What matters is that I'm willing to try (tri?) and honestly, even failure is an accomplishment at this level.

So off I go, to once again challenge myself to do something I've never done before.

In 90-degree heat.

Sleep deprived, and with full knowledge that I'll be bringing up the rear.

It's just another Sunday in Maggie's World.