Were you one of the thousands that flocked to Chicago's beaches over the holiday weekend? If so, you may have noticed the new flag system for swimming safety. The city has lightened the restrictions in part because last year the beaches were closed for 78 days. 78 days. That's two and a half months. In a city that gets about three months of beach-going weather, that's just downright cruel. Now don't worry. It's not just a "go ahead, get sick, we don't care" response to the angry mob dressed in lycra. There are also plans to lower the pollution by reducing the amount of bird poop in the water. Seriously. The gulls that soar through the sky are more than just a seeming anomaly in this Midwestern city. The city believes their droppings are responsible for a significant enough amount of the pollution to warrant taking drastic measures. These measures include a new crop of trash cans with lids on them, at a price of $200,000 for 4,000 (half for regular trash, half for recyclables - which in this city shocked me), and more signs asking people to use the trash cans and to be careful with their diapers. (I, for one, feel that if you have an issue with trash cans and diapers a sign is probably not going to make a difference, but it's a tangible message the city can tout.) Those are pretty straightforward and obvious. The next two, however, had me imagining the brainstorming session: "We've got to do something about the beach closings this year. They'll tear us apart!" "It's those damn birds. Bad enough we've got to deal with pigeons and rats, but those seagulls pooped on me five times last year. They're a menace." "You know, Joe, you may have a point there. I bet those birds are the reason the water's so dirty. How do we get rid of them?" "Growing up we always used scarecrows." "Have you seen some of the people on the beaches?" "True." "Oh! I've got it! We could stretch a net over the beach!" "Are you an idiot?" "Ok, so maybe not over the whole beach, but what about the watchamacallit - the dumpsters?" "You may have a point there. Yes, I believe that could work. They'd be too stupid to fly under the net. Any other ideas?" "Oh - oh - oh - dogs!" "Dogs?" "Yea - we could have dogs bark at them every day and they won't want to stay there. Ya' know, create an inhospitable living environment. It'll be like when my mother-in-law moved in." "You are brilliant. You should run for Mayor." Yes, dear readers, there will be border collies stationed at two beaches every morning to wake those sorry seagulls up. Once on their way they better not think of stopping to eat at any dumpsters, because there will be a wire grid strung over the top. I feel cleaner already. Chicago Park District Hotline: 312-74BEACH

Ready to don that bathing suit? Well, even if you're not Chicago's beaches are waiting for you. They open up today. Which also means summer hot spots Castaways and Oak Street Beachstro are open. Beer and brat in a bikini, any one? When you visit you might notice flags posted in the sand. These are the city's new public awareness program for the polution in the lake. Green - dive right in. Yellow - you're taking your chances. And red of course means stay the heck out. The levels are based on the amount of E. Coli bacteria present. At the yellow level 8 out of 1000 people get sick and at the red level 14 out of 1000. For more information, and a list of Chicago's beaches, visit the Chicago Park District's website.

A dedicated “Self” magazine reader, I am the first to admit that I have yet to participate in a “Self Workout Challenge.” It’s not as though health and fitness are not on my radar. In fact, I find myself schlepping to the gym on a daily basis and do my best to shop the perimeter of the grocery store when inspired. But what makes a gym experience more motivating? A gal pal perhaps? How about several gal pals, a.k.a. your new best friends. I was one of hundreds that attended “Self” magazine’s Workout in the Park this past Saturday. Chicago was fortunate to be having a “good” weather day for what we call spring, so there was no excuse not to lace up my gym shoes and stroll the lakefront down to Lincoln Park. If you happened to miss the circus-tent-like setup from a distance, the hypnotic beat radiating out of the speaker system would be the second indicator that you were in the right place. An avid planner, I ordered my ticket ahead of time on line for ten dollars. Though the fifteen dollar on-site ticket price is hardly offensive, considering any paid admission also buys you a year subscription to their magazine. But it doesn’t stop there. A friendly event worker handed me a large sack to be filled with goodies ranging from Clarins skin care to Power Bars. Like a kid in a candy store I had to regain my focus as to why I decided to attend in the first place. The name of the event, after all, is “workout” in the park. Lucky for me, the main stage was about to start “Bikini Body Boot Camp.” Believe it or not, I am one of the few people who loves squats and lunges, so I was in my glory. It was nice to be able to trade the windowless environs of the gym for a grassy knoll in Lincoln Park. Not to mention, the scent of testosterone overload cannot compete with a good dose of fresh air in your lungs. Other classes sponsored by Crunch fitness were; Power Yoga, Cardio Striptease, Ballroom Blitz, Abs and Hip-Hop. New to the scene was Kardio Katini, which utilizes a Katini stick to prepare one for a golf excursion or tennis match. Now how is that for multitasking? Post workout, I re-fueled my body with berry cream cheese goodness over at the Quaker Rice Cake tent. It’s a healthier alternative to the actual cheesecake bars of years past. Thank you “Self,” we did not sweat our butts off for nothing! Had I more time, I might have had a mini makeover in the Cover Girl Cosmetics area, which proved to be very popular. The esthetician in me loved the fact that Clarins actually had a station to reapply sunscreen. Previous events had more vendors selling items such as purses and jewelry. This year’s program had more sample booths and greater participation in the actual workouts, which should be the overall focus. After all, no girl really needs motivation to go shopping! Monday dieter or spinning queen, all shapes, sizes and age groups were in attendance last Saturday. A gathering such as this makes one realize that at the end of the day, we are not alone when it comes to finding the motivation to begin, or sustain, a healthy lifestyle. So whether your goal this summer is the bikini or the “modest” tank number, may the ultimate accomplishment be SELF-satisfaction. A Chicago resident, Rebecca Taras is a licensed esthetician and creator of Cleansing Queen Bath and Body Care, which was well-received by both local and national press. She was recognized by the Chicago Fashion Foundation in 2004 by receiving the "Style Makers and Rule Breakers" award in the beauty category. Her passion for travel and wellness grew into Terminal Getaway airport spa, web apothecary and specialized hotel amenity concept, which she co-founded and serves as Vice President of Sales, Marketing and Product Development.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I don't recycle. When I'm at my parents' house in Lisle I recycle. When I lived in Indianapolis (and Virginia, and New York) I recycled. I don't recycle in Chicago. That wasn't always the case. My first apartment building had recycling bins in the trash rooms, until the city started the "Blue Bag" program and the bins were removed. That's when I stopped. Last night a couple of friends and I were discussing global warming (one had just read an article about it), so the importance of recycling and how darn hard it is came up. I realized that I had no idea any more what was involved if I wanted to start being a more environmentally conscious citizen and vowed that I would do a little research and, of course, post what I learned. Turns out I have no excuse to be uninformed. I did a quick Google search on "recycling in Chicago" and the first listing was Chicago Recycling Coalition. And they have a recycling in Chicago section. Guess what I learned: my apartment building is required to provide recycling. In fact, any apartment building with four or more units is required to provide source-separated recycling, which means the recyclables are kept separate from the normal garbage. Mine sure doesn't; does yours? The Coalition tells you what steps to take to get your landlord's butt in gear. I'll be doing some more research on this. In the meantime, leave a comment and let us know whether your building provides recycling, if you take yours to a site, or any other issue you'd like to discuss.

Exercising along Lake Michigan usually gives me a few "Wow - I live here!" moments. I spend an hour with water lapping at the shoreline on one side, an incredible skyline on the other, and I returned energized, happy, and full of creative vim and vigor. Not yesterday. Somehow I had completely forgotten that there were two charity races along the lakefront. So oblivious to the traffic I was about to encounter I skated towards the lake at 11am, excited about getting my daily adrenalin boost. I rolled under Lake Shore Drive and waited for a large group of people to walk by before turning onto the path. Even then I thought it might have been a family reunion or a large church group. Then I turned right and saw group after group wearing jeans and t-shirts. Oh yeah - the races. I skated slowly around them. As I came upon a large group that was stretched across the path I called "on your left." They didn't move. Two cyclists came towards me - directly towards me - and they did not slow down. I grabbed the woman in front of me, the one who didn't move in to the proper lane when I said "on your left," and the second cyclist plowed into my shoulder. He knocked both of us to the ground and landed under his bike. The walkers stopped and asked us if we were OK. We both grunted "yes," picked ourselves up and moved on. From that point on any time I came upon a group that seemed to forget the path is a two-way street I would shout "on your left" in a very testy, irritated, get-out-of-my way voice. Of course, I knew right when I ended up on my butt that this is just the beginning as the weather improves and tourist season approaches. Chicago's lakefront is one of our greatest assets and should be enjoyed fully by both locals and tourists. To make sure the casual sightseers, weekend warriors, and daily exercisers all get along (without a bruised shoulder and a pissy attitute), here are a few rules of the road: 1. Traffic goes both ways. The line down the middle is there for a reason. 2. Stay in the right lane. 3. If you're in a large group of people, do not stretch across the entire path. Someone on wheels may need to get around you. 4. If you hear "on your left," MOVE. The person saying it is most likely on wheels and moving faster than you. If you don't move, that person will plow into you, fall to avoid plowing into you, or plow into someone coming the opposite direction. 5. If you're on wheels, slow down when approaching a large group of pedestrians. If you have any other suggestions or comments about lake front etiquette, leave a comment!

Now don't get me wrong - I have dated some really great guys. One is still a very close friend of mine, close enough to drive me to my parents in Lisle from the hospital after the mugging. Another set me up with Hainesville. So although I have dated my share of men that have inspired my friends to set up an approval committee for any potential suitors, there have also been decent men that still hold my affection. While my barometer may not be completely off, it definitely needs some help. After the question and answer session Wendy had me get comfortable. I laid down with my head on the armrest and my arms crossed over my stomach. New age music emanated from the CD player at her feet while her soft, methodical voice gave me specific instructions. I could feel myself gradually relaxing, gradually enough that I eased into a state of hypnosis and before I knew it she was counting backwards from 10 to bring me out of it. Being hypnotized requires a definite level of trust. As your conscious mind drifts off (you are awake during the process, even if you're not aware), the hypnotherapist is giving instructions to your subconscious mind. She could have been telling me to date squirrels, for all I know. As she brought me out of hypnosis she told me that when I awakened I would feel refreshed and great. She was right. If nothing else the session helped get me out of the emotional slump I've been in since I was mugged a month ago. I don't remember anything that was said, but she told me she focused on helping me let go of old relationships and move on from the mistakes I've made in the past. I do feel lighter and more confident in my ability to go forward. It could be psychosomatic. Heck, since hypnotherapy works on the mind it IS psychosomatic. If it works, it works. But if you see me gazing longingly at a squirrel, please, tell me to snap out of it.

Well, it's been 24 hours and I still haven't met Mr. Right. Even though I'm as impatient as the next person in our instant-gratification-society, I do realize that it's going to take a bit longer than one day after one hypnosis session to meet the man of my dreams. While I'm waiting I'll tell you a bit about it. Wendy greeted me warmly. I sat down in the corner of the couch and she sat across from me in a chair. After I filled out a brief questionnaire she went through a series of questions to get to the heart of my relationship needs and took copious notes on my answers. That was tough. How many of us have really analyzed what we want out of a relationship and, more importantly, why we want those things and why we even want a relationship? I felt at times like a mother whose child is tugging on my sleeve asking "why?" to every response. At other times I felt like the student in the back of the class who is caught unprepared and fumbles around for the right answer. (That's an appropriate analogy, because I've definitely been in relationship detention.) Of course there were no "correct" answers, only those that were correct for me. Now I don't suppose Wendy would be too happy to help a gold digger find her sugar daddy, but she tailors the sessions to suit the individual's needs. The point of the question and answer part was to get to the heart of my expectations and desires. That's something I had never really analyzed. As I told her, I don't look for relationships, I fall into them. Her response was that because I'm an attractive woman, finding a true companion is difficult. I am not choosing the men I date - they're choosing me. That was an AHA! moment. As an Independent Woman, I have not wanted to admit that I actually do want a fulfilling relationship with a *gasp* man. To do so implies dependency, but NOT to do so guarantees the ping-pong topsy-turvy love-life I've grown to (almost) accept as the norm. She told me I don't have to be aggressive or bold or flirtatious, but when I see a man I'd like to meet, or meet a man I'd like to get to know, to acknowledge it. She helped me understand that I still make the choice with whom I spend my time. And all this was before she hypnotized me. to be continued....

If you know me, you know I have a problem with men. Not men in general. Just finding an appropriate man with whom to have a relationship. Seems I always fall head over heels for someone who's completely wrong for me. A good friend of mine postulated that I choose these men so that I can feel superior. I promptly slapped him and dramatically and self-righteously stomped off in a huff. But...he may have a point. I've believed that I become enamored with the bad boy because then when it's over it'll be really easy to move on. If they don't deserve my love, my heart can't really be broken, right? Well, this afternoon I aim to change all that. Wendy Lapidus-Saltz is a hypnotherapist who specializes in helping people attract their perfect mate. I had heard of this type of therapy before from my friend Teresa Hill, who is now a certified hypnotherapist in her own right. Wendy subscribes to my newsletter and contacted me after reading my "Mugged In Chicago" series. She read that I was dating and offered me a session. I thought "why not?" Through Teresa's success stores I know hypnotism works. And since I haven't done too well on the love-front on my own (now THAT'S an understatement!), I am more than willing to be put under. Amazingly I am still dating Hainesville, who seems like a genuinely nice guy, so it'll be interesting to see what happens with him after today's session. Even that illustrates my relationship difficulties. I do meet a good man, but he lives in HAINESVILLE. So, I'll keep you posted. I have visions of dozens of Prince Charmings lining up just for the opportunity to be in my presence. (One can dream...it definitely beats my current vision of me at 60 wearing a muu-muu with a string of boy-toys behind me. Wait a minute - that doesn't sound so bad. Except for the muu-muu.)

When I moved to the River North neighborhood of Chicago in 2001 my best friend commented that she could never live there. Why? I asked. "No green." (She said the river didn't count.) Well, Garden In A City aims to take care of that problem. Visitors can learn how to create their own gardens in the small spaces urban living provides, as well as how communities can create green spaces on rooftops and plazas. There will be gardening demonstrations, outdoor kitchen and chef demonstrations, ideas for container plants, and a marketplace to buy plants and gardening tools. Garden In A City runs thought May 21 at Grant Park's Butler Field. http://www.gardeninacity.org/

Not in time to get Mom some fresh flowers, but the downtown Chicago farmer's markets do start to open next week. Federal Plaza opens on Tuesday, and Daley Plaza on Thursday. Click here for the complete schedule.

1. The city-planted flowers are now tulips.

2. If there's room for a table and chair, restaurants and bars will have a patio set up.

3. The lakefront path is as busy as Lake Shore Drive.

4. The Chicago Police are on horseback.

5. The Red Line smells like hot dogs and beer.*

*Non-Chicagoans - the Red Line is the train that goes to both Wrigley and U.S. Cellular Fields

A city ordinance passed April 26 bans the sale of foie gras in restaurants, but it doesn't take effect until late June. If you're a foie fan you're in luck - Avenues in the Peninsula (108 E Superior St, 312-573-6754) will be serving foie gras add-ons with each of the 12 courses in its tasting menu until they're not allowed to any more (and it's only an extra $100). The issue may not be dead in the water. Chefs Didier Durand of Cyrano's Bistrot and Michael Tsonton of Cobberblue have started Chicago Chefs for Choice. The organization, with the help of Bryan Scott, is trying to figure out whether the ban is even constitutional. (Scott is a foie gras lobbyist. I didn't even know there was such a thing.)

In an effort to make the series easier to read, I've placed it in chronological order here.

This afternoon I went out for a run. Something seemed off but I couldn't figure out immediately what it was, except for an eerie sense of quiet. Then I realized there was no wind, not even a breeze. All the leaves stood still as if I were running through a photograph. The wind is always a factor in my running, so it's absence made me think of our nickname, The Windy City. I know that the nickname doesn't come from the actual intensity and frequency of gusts (Atlanta holds the honor of windiest city in the U.S.), but it's my job to know these little tidbits of information about Chicago. The popular explanation is that New Yorkers were ticked off that we got the World's Fair in 1893 and called our politicians a bunch of "windbags". The term actually started long before that. Chicago advertised its winds as a draw to the city (at the time, winds carried away the strong odors and cooled people off). Promoters of Chicago in the early 19th century irritated east coast people in their efforts to increase investment here and were called "Bags of Wind." Another explanation is that the city's east-west skyscraper canyons create wind tunnels, so it's much windier than the airport readings. No matter how it started, the term actually became popular because of the World's Fair, so that's the explanation that sticks. Why am I not surprised that there are three different explanations for one nickname?