Imagine.

My run today was polluted with advertisements for the Chicago Olympic bid. It's annoying, really, those signs hanging everywhere and just thinking some of my tax money might have paid for it. Our city and state have superhigh taxes and huge budget deficits - why would we spend money on a giant international party? I hope those IOC people can figure out that it would be just cruel to ask a city that can't afford to patch potholes to pay for their gig.

The run went really, really well though. I was reading about how shorter runs can count for more if you make them harder. 7 miles into the 12 I started kicking the pace, and by 10 I was running a full minute faster than marathon pace. Wowsa, didn't know I had that in me. I got the high, I enjoyed the spring weather, and I'm having one of the days where I sorta believe I can hit my pace goal. Sorta.

Last night Audrey, Erica, Dacia, and I went to see the Feint and Ladytron at Metro. I felt sooooo old. Not just because most of the crowd was younger, but because of what I was thinking. Things like "this place is too crowded," "I'm glad I brought earplugs," "the sound mixing in this place sucks," and "I'm so glad I wore sneakers instead of something fashionable, this is lots of standing." Four years ago I was going to shows weekly and putting up with way worse. (smoking! though the sound at 9:30 is way better...) It was fun, but I think I'll probably not go to Metro again. I miss Backstage at the Black Cat, dc9, but especially The Galaxy Hut. (I could really use a grilled cheese with love right now.)