There's a great scene in "Broadcast News" where Holly Hunter and Albert Brooks are talking on the phone and he says,
"Wouldn't this be a great world if insecurity and desperation made us more attractive? If "needy" were a turn-on? "
Sadly, this was not the case in the movie and it is not the case in real life.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Have another piece of candy
1. Vivendi - the Big Bad Wolf?
I played King's Quest back in 1991-1992. The game survived through several versions and then Sierra Online decided that it was no longer interested in the King's Quest series. In light of this a group of fans of King Quest decided to take up the torch and write their own sequel to the game. They formed Phoenix Online Studios and began work on King's Quest IX as a fan game. A game written by fans for fans. The plan was to make the game freeware, available to all as a free download.
The first part of King's Quest IX was ready for release in December 2005 when they received a cease and desist letter from Vivendi Universal Games (owner of Sierra Online) and the project has been shut down. But there's folks itching to play that game. Who have been waiting with great anticipation for it. They have started an email/letter writing campaign to Vivendi.
Seem to me like Vivendi might want to take a peek at the game and see what their target market wants in an adventure game. They might learn at lot about what the King's Quest brand means to the people who play it. No better focus group in the world. It would endear them to the community and could revitalize the series.
2. Walking reenactment of Memento
I have lost my capacity to form short-term memories. Today, I find that I have forgotten yet another password for yet another account. I am locked out of the electronic journal subscriptions of my University. Lately, I get directions and immediately forget them, I write down phone numbers and misplace them, I make plans and forget where we are meeting. As the Dismemberment Plan says: "One too many blows to the head, left me for dead but still I fight on."
3. Hay is for horses
It's horse-day on NBC today. The U.S. Army rodeo and much horse racing. My Guy is mildly distressed. He wants to know why I am watching the "cruelty to animals games." I cannot vouch for the Rodeo. I hear terrible things about bull and bronc riding. And those 250 lb calves seem to hit the ground pretty hard during the Rope and Tie. I know there's riding crops being used in horse racing but for some reason I don't think of racing as cruelty to animals. The horses look beautiful when running and the racing has such a romantic component to it. With racehorses beyond strength and size there is always talk of the heart and character, the ways in which a horses personality effects the way it races. Perhaps this is a blind spot in my moral universe.
4. November is National Novel Writing Month.
It is in its 7th year.
"Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30."
"Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly."
What is not to love here?
5. Misty watercolor memories
The summer after 6th grade. I had a metallic kelly green huffy with a banana seat. I got up everyday and rode it to the Collinsville Public Library. I wandered the stacks and borrowed backpacks full of books. I stayed up way late reading them until I fell asleep. My dog Frisky followed me to the library and I got him a bowl of water for the heat and he waited outside until I was ready to go home. It was a great summer.
6. Firefly
Futuristic spaceship/smuggler/cowboy yarns where the people speak historical dialects of English and cuss in Chinese are the best.
I played King's Quest back in 1991-1992. The game survived through several versions and then Sierra Online decided that it was no longer interested in the King's Quest series. In light of this a group of fans of King Quest decided to take up the torch and write their own sequel to the game. They formed Phoenix Online Studios and began work on King's Quest IX as a fan game. A game written by fans for fans. The plan was to make the game freeware, available to all as a free download.
The first part of King's Quest IX was ready for release in December 2005 when they received a cease and desist letter from Vivendi Universal Games (owner of Sierra Online) and the project has been shut down. But there's folks itching to play that game. Who have been waiting with great anticipation for it. They have started an email/letter writing campaign to Vivendi.
Seem to me like Vivendi might want to take a peek at the game and see what their target market wants in an adventure game. They might learn at lot about what the King's Quest brand means to the people who play it. No better focus group in the world. It would endear them to the community and could revitalize the series.
2. Walking reenactment of Memento
I have lost my capacity to form short-term memories. Today, I find that I have forgotten yet another password for yet another account. I am locked out of the electronic journal subscriptions of my University. Lately, I get directions and immediately forget them, I write down phone numbers and misplace them, I make plans and forget where we are meeting. As the Dismemberment Plan says: "One too many blows to the head, left me for dead but still I fight on."
3. Hay is for horses
It's horse-day on NBC today. The U.S. Army rodeo and much horse racing. My Guy is mildly distressed. He wants to know why I am watching the "cruelty to animals games." I cannot vouch for the Rodeo. I hear terrible things about bull and bronc riding. And those 250 lb calves seem to hit the ground pretty hard during the Rope and Tie. I know there's riding crops being used in horse racing but for some reason I don't think of racing as cruelty to animals. The horses look beautiful when running and the racing has such a romantic component to it. With racehorses beyond strength and size there is always talk of the heart and character, the ways in which a horses personality effects the way it races. Perhaps this is a blind spot in my moral universe.
4. November is National Novel Writing Month.
It is in its 7th year.
"Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30."
"Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly."
What is not to love here?
5. Misty watercolor memories
The summer after 6th grade. I had a metallic kelly green huffy with a banana seat. I got up everyday and rode it to the Collinsville Public Library. I wandered the stacks and borrowed backpacks full of books. I stayed up way late reading them until I fell asleep. My dog Frisky followed me to the library and I got him a bowl of water for the heat and he waited outside until I was ready to go home. It was a great summer.
6. Firefly
Futuristic spaceship/smuggler/cowboy yarns where the people speak historical dialects of English and cuss in Chinese are the best.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Lifetime Top Five Items of Clothing
This one goes out to MomVee.
1. Sweatshirt given to me my senior year by AG. Heavy cotton Grey Champion sweatshirt with Princeton in black lined orange letters across the chest, size extra large. He was (and is) funny, sweet, sarcastic, and hard working electrical engineer. But at his core he was a ferocious street hockey player. He would come to the dining hall at Campus Club after playing hockey and that sweatshirt would be torn in a new place - the waist, the elbow, the cuff. And I would check him over for new scrapes, cuts, and bruises, scolding him to be more careful next time. The question of who got to wear this sweatshirt was an ongoing thing between us and when we graduated after much bargaining I traded him my fleece dinosaur blanket for it. It was riddled with holes all along the arms and the cuffs were ragged.
It had the magical properties of a boyfriend sweatshirt. It was comfy, well-worn and like wearing armor or getting an extended hug. I wore it off and on until my third year of grad school when I gently placed it in a box and retired it.
2. RK's jean's. RK was a girl I knew in high school who had that rare ability to be wholesome, likeable, and cool at the same time. She had bright red hair and is the only person I have ever met who is ticklish on the top of her head. She gave me a pair of old Calvin Klein jeans. They had one really cool rip and they were so comfortable. They survived up until I started dating MC who had a cat named Jonah who ripped his claws into them pants in an apparently harmless way that would ultimately lead to their demise in a drunken fall.
3. My first pair of heels. I bought them from Baker's at the Mall in a buy two get one free deal. 1 inch heels, pale salmon colored "snakeskin." These shoes were ridiculous and tacky tacky tacky. They matched nothing I owned. They matched no article of clothing to be found on the planet. And I loved them more than my life. They were my gateway shoe to a lifetime of shoe lust. I wore them with ridiculous classic 80's outfits like the matching striped denim vest/jean combo with a pink and blue scarf tied around my head. Or the green army pants with the boxy double breasted jacket in a red and white houndstooth pattern I stole from my mother and the chicago art institute many painters' signatures t-shirt and a red bandana on my head.
They were that rarest of shoe a comfy heel. I do not know what fate befell them. I think my mother evicted them from my closet while I was away at college.
4. Blue multicolored sweater from the Limited. I circled this sweater waiting for it to get marked down. It was a cotton blend with a hearty country cable knit pattern, boat necked. It was dark blue with flecks of white, pink, green, and red in it. It was huge. Everytime I wore this sweater I got a compliment from a man. And not in a "Hey Baby, hey baby," kind of way. The boys seemed to geniunely like this sweater. As in they might trade me their fleece spiderman blanket for it if I was willing to negotiate for it. It was nice to get a geniune compliment.
5. Black Summer Suit. Skirt hem and jacket lapel, hem and cuffs are bordered with a ruffle. AT bought me this suit. He is a major clothes horse, he has designer shirts bought off of ebay that would cost more retail than my kidney. I have never met a man so well dressed. Ask me about the seven-fold tie. Nor have I met a man with such a nose for a bargain. He moved to Cambridge started to spend a lot of time in Filene's basement and found the most amazing suits and dress shirts. When I went to visit him we started an outing with the intent to walk the Freedom Trail and somehow he steered me into Filene's Basement where I was instructed to try on every designer thing in the haute coutuer room. Nothing fit right it was all made for pixies and giraffes. We argued about every item in the room. It's not my fault that those ridiculous things made me "look like a villager." The only thing that looked halfway decent was this enormous poofy fawn colored ballgown. It was about closing time and we were exhausted, when on the way out I spied this black ruffled suit by some regular clothier. He complained about the price of the suit (too cheap) and was skeptical about the workmanship but when I put it on we agreed that the jacket and skirt fit nicely and I looked presentable and I made my escape from the bowels of Filene's and got to see the rest of fair Boston.
Two years later I wore this suit at my defense.
I tag BeckyBumbleFuck and Juvenilia.
1. Sweatshirt given to me my senior year by AG. Heavy cotton Grey Champion sweatshirt with Princeton in black lined orange letters across the chest, size extra large. He was (and is) funny, sweet, sarcastic, and hard working electrical engineer. But at his core he was a ferocious street hockey player. He would come to the dining hall at Campus Club after playing hockey and that sweatshirt would be torn in a new place - the waist, the elbow, the cuff. And I would check him over for new scrapes, cuts, and bruises, scolding him to be more careful next time. The question of who got to wear this sweatshirt was an ongoing thing between us and when we graduated after much bargaining I traded him my fleece dinosaur blanket for it. It was riddled with holes all along the arms and the cuffs were ragged.
It had the magical properties of a boyfriend sweatshirt. It was comfy, well-worn and like wearing armor or getting an extended hug. I wore it off and on until my third year of grad school when I gently placed it in a box and retired it.
2. RK's jean's. RK was a girl I knew in high school who had that rare ability to be wholesome, likeable, and cool at the same time. She had bright red hair and is the only person I have ever met who is ticklish on the top of her head. She gave me a pair of old Calvin Klein jeans. They had one really cool rip and they were so comfortable. They survived up until I started dating MC who had a cat named Jonah who ripped his claws into them pants in an apparently harmless way that would ultimately lead to their demise in a drunken fall.
3. My first pair of heels. I bought them from Baker's at the Mall in a buy two get one free deal. 1 inch heels, pale salmon colored "snakeskin." These shoes were ridiculous and tacky tacky tacky. They matched nothing I owned. They matched no article of clothing to be found on the planet. And I loved them more than my life. They were my gateway shoe to a lifetime of shoe lust. I wore them with ridiculous classic 80's outfits like the matching striped denim vest/jean combo with a pink and blue scarf tied around my head. Or the green army pants with the boxy double breasted jacket in a red and white houndstooth pattern I stole from my mother and the chicago art institute many painters' signatures t-shirt and a red bandana on my head.
They were that rarest of shoe a comfy heel. I do not know what fate befell them. I think my mother evicted them from my closet while I was away at college.
4. Blue multicolored sweater from the Limited. I circled this sweater waiting for it to get marked down. It was a cotton blend with a hearty country cable knit pattern, boat necked. It was dark blue with flecks of white, pink, green, and red in it. It was huge. Everytime I wore this sweater I got a compliment from a man. And not in a "Hey Baby, hey baby," kind of way. The boys seemed to geniunely like this sweater. As in they might trade me their fleece spiderman blanket for it if I was willing to negotiate for it. It was nice to get a geniune compliment.
5. Black Summer Suit. Skirt hem and jacket lapel, hem and cuffs are bordered with a ruffle. AT bought me this suit. He is a major clothes horse, he has designer shirts bought off of ebay that would cost more retail than my kidney. I have never met a man so well dressed. Ask me about the seven-fold tie. Nor have I met a man with such a nose for a bargain. He moved to Cambridge started to spend a lot of time in Filene's basement and found the most amazing suits and dress shirts. When I went to visit him we started an outing with the intent to walk the Freedom Trail and somehow he steered me into Filene's Basement where I was instructed to try on every designer thing in the haute coutuer room. Nothing fit right it was all made for pixies and giraffes. We argued about every item in the room. It's not my fault that those ridiculous things made me "look like a villager." The only thing that looked halfway decent was this enormous poofy fawn colored ballgown. It was about closing time and we were exhausted, when on the way out I spied this black ruffled suit by some regular clothier. He complained about the price of the suit (too cheap) and was skeptical about the workmanship but when I put it on we agreed that the jacket and skirt fit nicely and I looked presentable and I made my escape from the bowels of Filene's and got to see the rest of fair Boston.
Two years later I wore this suit at my defense.
I tag BeckyBumbleFuck and Juvenilia.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
each one, a story
Sometimes you break things. It is inevitable. It happens all the time. Sometimes they break beyond repair. When they are fixable it takes time, effort, willingness and patience. Even so, they are never what they were before. Fact.
How well you accept this and what you make of it, is up to you.
Look closely at anyone and you will find that each of us has a scar or a crack where pieces have been glued back together, at least one. It is a wonder and a reminder. Creatures so fragile repair and come out stronger.
How well you accept this and what you make of it, is up to you.
Look closely at anyone and you will find that each of us has a scar or a crack where pieces have been glued back together, at least one. It is a wonder and a reminder. Creatures so fragile repair and come out stronger.
I don't usually notice this kind of thing
I got a burger at Culver's. I sat down to my burger basket and noticed that I was the one non white person in the building. I looked out the window to find that my car was the only import in the lot. And most of the cars were trucks or SUV's. They didn't all move away from me on the group W bench there. But the cashier was suspiciously friendly. And the older gent tried to take my tray from me a few times before I was really ready to throw in the towel on my fries.
Reminded me of my childhood when people were always asking me if I was Chinese or Japanese. I would reply that I was Korean and meet with a look of great confusion. I would try to explain where it was and introduce people to the word peninsula. Blankness. I am ashamed to confess that sometimes I gave up mid-explanation and said that being Korean was like being half Chinese and half Japanese and that my father did indeed know kung-fu and karate.
So the whole experience was like a slice of home, really. That aside, the burger was pretty decent and I have vowed to go back for the custard.
Reminded me of my childhood when people were always asking me if I was Chinese or Japanese. I would reply that I was Korean and meet with a look of great confusion. I would try to explain where it was and introduce people to the word peninsula. Blankness. I am ashamed to confess that sometimes I gave up mid-explanation and said that being Korean was like being half Chinese and half Japanese and that my father did indeed know kung-fu and karate.
So the whole experience was like a slice of home, really. That aside, the burger was pretty decent and I have vowed to go back for the custard.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
fixations
Once I was having a conversation with SFMD and her comment to me was that I was obsessing. A statement which stopped me in my tracks. Me? Obsessive? Huh... I was extremely pleased to hear this. Relieved, even. Me with the capacity to pick up and drop hobbies. Me with the history of serial monogamy. Me with the attention span of a gnat. I still have some capacity to fixate. Albeit for short periods of time.
So here being with a little time on my hands I watch where my head wanders.
A lot of the things that I did to kill time and avoid work while a grad student I have been blocking on, as if I am trying to get distance from the associations of that stretch. (But hopefully not forever.)
For now I fixate on
Fud
Mostly I am spending too much time loitering in grocery stores. There are five different chains in town. And actually the same chain will offer drastically different fare in different neighborhoods. (I am back to my old tricks on this one.) I am getting ready to branch out to ethnic grocers, the chinese bakery, seafood marts, and hopefully some farmer's markets before winter hits.
I am madly in love with America's Test Kitchen. I obsess over the question of who makes the yummiest peanut butter and which brand of bottled water tastes the best. Cook's Illustrated has a great food science angle to it that I love. And I have a crush on Chris Kimball, I think he's dreamy.
I consider people who cook to be divided into two sorts: those who read (recipe followers) and those who improvise. I am a reader. I am envious of improvisers. My currently packed up kitchen is a boulevard of broken culinary dreams. All those special cooking utensils: the springform cake pan (used twice) the asparagus peeler, several really lousy garlic presses, the ceramic ginger grater. All those spices bought and used in a once prepared dish.
For a time I kept a recipe lab book in which I wrote out recipes that I tried and took notes of the outcome and the things that I would change next time. Sometimes I searched down 3-10 different recipes for the same dish and wrote out some hybrid of them and then tried to gauge the result. And I kinda wish I had it right now. Along with my big mixing bowl, pie plates, rubber spatulas, and kosher salt.
The sad caveat to this is that I am a mediocre cook. Most of the time I feel there is something missing from the food that I cook. Probably salt, corn syrup, shallots, and beef tallow.
Games
Computer games are an on again off again struggle. I went through boughts with tetris, hextris, welltris, xtank, nethack, king's quest. I went through boughts with the first version of Civilization, klondike solitaire, spider solitaire, other versions of solitaire, Myst. I even went through a third of The Legend of Zelda The Ocarina of Time. Love House of the Dead. I bought Riven and swore I would not play it until after I passed my Prelim. I still have the game, unplayed.
Well, it's on again, Baby. I goofed around a little with Flatout. In gameland, I am a terrible driver. But I can crash for money with the best of them. And I am wittling away time playing those terrible time wasting games on Myspace. I like the one with the monkey and the barrels of fruit.
So I haven't gotten around to reading that list of the 100 most important books of our century or reading the great thinkers of history. Yet.
So here being with a little time on my hands I watch where my head wanders.
A lot of the things that I did to kill time and avoid work while a grad student I have been blocking on, as if I am trying to get distance from the associations of that stretch. (But hopefully not forever.)
For now I fixate on
Fud
Mostly I am spending too much time loitering in grocery stores. There are five different chains in town. And actually the same chain will offer drastically different fare in different neighborhoods. (I am back to my old tricks on this one.) I am getting ready to branch out to ethnic grocers, the chinese bakery, seafood marts, and hopefully some farmer's markets before winter hits.
I am madly in love with America's Test Kitchen. I obsess over the question of who makes the yummiest peanut butter and which brand of bottled water tastes the best. Cook's Illustrated has a great food science angle to it that I love. And I have a crush on Chris Kimball, I think he's dreamy.
I consider people who cook to be divided into two sorts: those who read (recipe followers) and those who improvise. I am a reader. I am envious of improvisers. My currently packed up kitchen is a boulevard of broken culinary dreams. All those special cooking utensils: the springform cake pan (used twice) the asparagus peeler, several really lousy garlic presses, the ceramic ginger grater. All those spices bought and used in a once prepared dish.
For a time I kept a recipe lab book in which I wrote out recipes that I tried and took notes of the outcome and the things that I would change next time. Sometimes I searched down 3-10 different recipes for the same dish and wrote out some hybrid of them and then tried to gauge the result. And I kinda wish I had it right now. Along with my big mixing bowl, pie plates, rubber spatulas, and kosher salt.
The sad caveat to this is that I am a mediocre cook. Most of the time I feel there is something missing from the food that I cook. Probably salt, corn syrup, shallots, and beef tallow.
Games
Computer games are an on again off again struggle. I went through boughts with tetris, hextris, welltris, xtank, nethack, king's quest. I went through boughts with the first version of Civilization, klondike solitaire, spider solitaire, other versions of solitaire, Myst. I even went through a third of The Legend of Zelda The Ocarina of Time. Love House of the Dead. I bought Riven and swore I would not play it until after I passed my Prelim. I still have the game, unplayed.
Well, it's on again, Baby. I goofed around a little with Flatout. In gameland, I am a terrible driver. But I can crash for money with the best of them. And I am wittling away time playing those terrible time wasting games on Myspace. I like the one with the monkey and the barrels of fruit.
So I haven't gotten around to reading that list of the 100 most important books of our century or reading the great thinkers of history. Yet.
Friday, October 21, 2005
a little of life's minutiae
Sometimes it takes forever to get a thing done. I had three tasks to contend with:
1. return overdue books and CD to the library and pay fines. *done*
2. take pet registration form to the vet to get it filled out and signed. *done*
3. Close bank account with BI.
I went to the bank and the sign said that the tellers were not open until 9am but the drive up window opened at 8am.
Okay. It's 8:30am, I'll go thru the drive up. The young lady tells me that account closings cannot be done by drive up. And can't be done for the next 20 minutes.
Okay. Y'know I'm kind of hungry. Ah, yes. I'll get biscuits and gravy at the Schnucks Deli. I remember seeing the signs about it. I am just never awake at the right time. Until now. So I go over and can't find the sign. And it seems that there are no biscuits and gravy. I guess it didn't catch on as big as the manager had hoped.
Okay. Maybe what I need is some bread or an apple danish. I'll go over to Mirabel's and get something. On arrival I find that they have no baguette. They have no apple danish.
Okay. Cheese Danish it is.
Now it's 9am. So I go back to the bank and they tell me that they need to see my ID. I open my wallet and it is not there!
Okay. After a moment's panic and recollection ... ah yes. I must have left it at the saloon after dinner and a few very sad rounds of pool. (My Guy did okay. I was pretty unfortunately.)
Okay. The saloon, of course is not open right now. And there is no sign to indicate when they open. I will assume around 11am or 11:30am.
And driving back to our friends home I feel a little frustrated. That last task is sitting there mocking me. A thing that I have put off for so long but I was finally going to take care of is delayed until the saloon opens. I walk into the kitchen, pour myself a glass of water and can't find my cheese danish.
I walk around and around the house. I walk out to the car. I have six okays, a task undone, and no cheese danish.
And if I am going to get my undies in a twist over this, it is clearly time for an attitude adjustment. To every moment in life there is a Bright Side, right? So let me enumerate them here.
*Ahem*
I am not living in Darfur.
Standing six okays from resolution is pretty good.
Hoagie let me rub his belly today.
I don't really need to be eating cheese danish. Let the universe have its fair share of the sweets.
Urbanana is a small town. So all that running around happened in a five block radius and didn't really take that long at all.
This is not a time sensitive task. It can wait until later. Until after the saloon opens.
It is good for me to realize that I do not have ID in my possession right now, right here. So that I can fetch it before I get denied access to a show, a club, or a bar, before I get stuck at the market unable to by bottles of hooch, before I order drinks with friends and then have to face the big deny, before I get on a plane, before I get pulled over and have to explain to Msr. Gendarme that mon ID n'est pas avec moi and is infact at the Saloon miles away in Urbanana, IL.
On turning this situation inside out I can see that this has actually worked out pretty well. I will get my ID back without putting in another six hour (roundtrip) drive.
(I've been reading some pretty heavy posts about the tough times that some of y'all have been through and some of you are going through. I am in awe of your courage and applaud your strength and the way you get through it while remaining the delightful and marvelous people you are.)
My life in contrast is just ridiculous.
Oh and look, here's my cheese danish nestled in my backpack where I placed it after purchase.
Do excuse me.
1. return overdue books and CD to the library and pay fines. *done*
2. take pet registration form to the vet to get it filled out and signed. *done*
3. Close bank account with BI.
I went to the bank and the sign said that the tellers were not open until 9am but the drive up window opened at 8am.
Okay. It's 8:30am, I'll go thru the drive up. The young lady tells me that account closings cannot be done by drive up. And can't be done for the next 20 minutes.
Okay. Y'know I'm kind of hungry. Ah, yes. I'll get biscuits and gravy at the Schnucks Deli. I remember seeing the signs about it. I am just never awake at the right time. Until now. So I go over and can't find the sign. And it seems that there are no biscuits and gravy. I guess it didn't catch on as big as the manager had hoped.
Okay. Maybe what I need is some bread or an apple danish. I'll go over to Mirabel's and get something. On arrival I find that they have no baguette. They have no apple danish.
Okay. Cheese Danish it is.
Now it's 9am. So I go back to the bank and they tell me that they need to see my ID. I open my wallet and it is not there!
Okay. After a moment's panic and recollection ... ah yes. I must have left it at the saloon after dinner and a few very sad rounds of pool. (My Guy did okay. I was pretty unfortunately.)
Okay. The saloon, of course is not open right now. And there is no sign to indicate when they open. I will assume around 11am or 11:30am.
And driving back to our friends home I feel a little frustrated. That last task is sitting there mocking me. A thing that I have put off for so long but I was finally going to take care of is delayed until the saloon opens. I walk into the kitchen, pour myself a glass of water and can't find my cheese danish.
I walk around and around the house. I walk out to the car. I have six okays, a task undone, and no cheese danish.
And if I am going to get my undies in a twist over this, it is clearly time for an attitude adjustment. To every moment in life there is a Bright Side, right? So let me enumerate them here.
*Ahem*
I am not living in Darfur.
Standing six okays from resolution is pretty good.
Hoagie let me rub his belly today.
I don't really need to be eating cheese danish. Let the universe have its fair share of the sweets.
Urbanana is a small town. So all that running around happened in a five block radius and didn't really take that long at all.
This is not a time sensitive task. It can wait until later. Until after the saloon opens.
It is good for me to realize that I do not have ID in my possession right now, right here. So that I can fetch it before I get denied access to a show, a club, or a bar, before I get stuck at the market unable to by bottles of hooch, before I order drinks with friends and then have to face the big deny, before I get on a plane, before I get pulled over and have to explain to Msr. Gendarme that mon ID n'est pas avec moi and is infact at the Saloon miles away in Urbanana, IL.
On turning this situation inside out I can see that this has actually worked out pretty well. I will get my ID back without putting in another six hour (roundtrip) drive.
(I've been reading some pretty heavy posts about the tough times that some of y'all have been through and some of you are going through. I am in awe of your courage and applaud your strength and the way you get through it while remaining the delightful and marvelous people you are.)
My life in contrast is just ridiculous.
Oh and look, here's my cheese danish nestled in my backpack where I placed it after purchase.
Do excuse me.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
grumbledy grump
Yes. I love Pride and Prejudice.
Yes. I will go see this new version.
But for the love of Pete, there are two really good adaptations of this novel and a couple of really good movies based on or inspired by it.
How about a film version of the last story in "The Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing?"
Or a film version of "Shampoo Planet?"
Or "Written on the Body?"
How about a film version of "The DragonSinger?"
Yes. I will go see this new version.
But for the love of Pete, there are two really good adaptations of this novel and a couple of really good movies based on or inspired by it.
How about a film version of the last story in "The Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing?"
Or a film version of "Shampoo Planet?"
Or "Written on the Body?"
How about a film version of "The DragonSinger?"
Monday, October 17, 2005
the Luddite in me
I spend a lot of time with mapquest., maps.yahoo, google.maps, and once with msn's maps. I know that I am not the only one. Sometimes when I am feeling nosey while driving I look at my fellow drivers and inevitably I see someone with a piece of folded paper spread across their steering wheel trying to read the directions, the signs, and watch the road all at once.
Its pretty remarkable that I can ask the great wizard how to get where I want to go and actually get an answer.
But I gotta say, I do prefer having a proper map. For my one day tour of NYC BBFK gave me "The Map," a simplified cartographic representation of "The City." While the act of carrying it and reading it slapped a sign on me that said, "Mug me!" which the locals were kind enough to disregard. It was great to have the lay of the island, some concept of alternate routes, landmarks for the lost, and get my bearings. It was nice to know where North is.
With .map directions, I don't really know where I am going or where I am and I do not have help in the event that I miss a turn or it turns out that Hartford has two airports: Brainerd and Bradley - only one of which is used by national air carriers. (@#*!) .map directions do not always realize or bother to warn you that Dinky Lane is a two way road that becomes one way that ends only to being again three blocks later.
When traveling too much information is better than just enough.
So this is a shout out to what is tried and true, the gentle art of navigation, and mapmakers everywhere. On my list of things to do is to purchase a proper map of the Greater Lou area. I am not Zen. I like to know where I am and what's around me.
Its pretty remarkable that I can ask the great wizard how to get where I want to go and actually get an answer.
But I gotta say, I do prefer having a proper map. For my one day tour of NYC BBFK gave me "The Map," a simplified cartographic representation of "The City." While the act of carrying it and reading it slapped a sign on me that said, "Mug me!" which the locals were kind enough to disregard. It was great to have the lay of the island, some concept of alternate routes, landmarks for the lost, and get my bearings. It was nice to know where North is.
With .map directions, I don't really know where I am going or where I am and I do not have help in the event that I miss a turn or it turns out that Hartford has two airports: Brainerd and Bradley - only one of which is used by national air carriers. (@#*!) .map directions do not always realize or bother to warn you that Dinky Lane is a two way road that becomes one way that ends only to being again three blocks later.
When traveling too much information is better than just enough.
So this is a shout out to what is tried and true, the gentle art of navigation, and mapmakers everywhere. On my list of things to do is to purchase a proper map of the Greater Lou area. I am not Zen. I like to know where I am and what's around me.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
"I've got sunshine on a cloudy day.
When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May."
I have heard this song maybe a million times. And everytime I do, no matter the state I'm in. When the bass and the strings, and the Temptations sing, I feel like I, too, have got all the riches one man can claim.
Hey Hey Hey!
I have heard this song maybe a million times. And everytime I do, no matter the state I'm in. When the bass and the strings, and the Temptations sing, I feel like I, too, have got all the riches one man can claim.
Hey Hey Hey!
Friday, October 14, 2005
overcompensation for an absence
a. If you do something for many years, it becomes a part of who you are. 12 years of biology for me, 10+ years of architecture for NJF, 7+ years of flirting for CKE. The daily action, the mindset, the instinct, the company you keep will inform who you are. You will take on ways of being and ways of seeing. Do what you want to be, because the culture will infuse itself into you.
b. There is a brand of cola drink in Peru called Inca Kola that is made with sugar cane that G's roomates say is really really good. According to Wikipedia, Inca Kola has manage to out compete Pepsi and Coca-cola through smart marketing, low prices, and national pride. "Inca Kola - the taste of a nation"
c. The sight of G squealing up and over the airport curb was most welcome after a long day of travel.
d. Do not wear suspenders on days that you travel on airplanes. The metal detectors will not be kind to you. Nor will the axnious passengers waiting behind you.
e. There was hella rain in Connecticut. Like a great lake dropping from the sky. LaGuardia airport had many drips from its ceilings and CSHL's auditorium had one nice big loud one as well. (most distracting during a piano recital) Perhaps East Coasters should start building boats and prepare to pack up two of everything to take with, just in case. I would be sure to pack two drummers, two bass players, two crystallographers, two histologists, and two poets, two potters and two ... (Hmmm, I'd better make plans to build a bigger boat. I'd also like to take a full brass band in duplicate.)
f. At CSHL they have a recital during the conference. They feature a talented young artist of international reputation who come and plays for the attendees and for members of the community. Afterwards there are cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. For us it was Jean-Efflam Bavouzet of France. He played an evening of pieces by Ravel. Most of what I know about Ravel is "Bolero" in that ice-dancing routine where the pair slide to their death at the end. (I am not a big fan.) But my mind has been changed. Jeux D'eau, Miroirs, and Gaspard de la Nuit were just dynamite. I kinda wish that recitals were more arena rock so we could shower Mssr. Bavouzet with thunderous applause for hitting a particularly challenging passage, as we would at a rock show. Because he was the shit.
He got standing ovations and came out to twice to grace us with an encore.
g. I have been thinking about firsts. This trip had a few firsts:
I took the NYC subway by myself for the first time.
I ate a whole lobster. (I was complimented on my fine dissection skills.)
I caught the bouquet at a wedding.
I won money at the casino. ($8 on the slots. Yeah Baby!)
I bought honey roasted almonds from a street vendor. (They are better if you let them sit in your coat pocket for a few minutes. Crispier.)
At the meeting, a second year graduate student from Canada offered to be my first post-doc should I decide to open my own lab. (Mind you I have not landed a post-doc offer for myself.)
h. I ate at a buffet almost every day (sometimes twice in a day.) I have the waistline to prove it. I fearlessly stacked my plates into mountains of food. SD and PN actually complimented me on my ability to pile food on a plate at the Casino Buffet (last buffet of the trip). I graduated up to a new eating weight class.
i. Casinos are strange places. No daylight, white noise and the sound of falling coins, cotton candy perfumes infusing the air. Elderly ladies complaing about losing canes or having them stolen while gambling. People circling your winning slot machine in an interested and slightly predatory way. Do not go to the casino when you are tired. Leave while you are still feeling good while you can enjoy the noise and the novelty and the kitch. If you are tired at the casino you start to notice desperate expressions of the people around you who take chances but who cannot handle loss, the people who cannot afford to lose.
The casino is a calculated seduction. Everything is there to distract you from the fact that these games of chance favor the house.
j. Yes, Lever and BBFK are even more excessively cute together in person than they are online, if that is possible. Interspersed with lengthy dialogues about farting. They even bicker cute.
k. I have been twice told that Haggis is really great. (especially deep fried.) So now I have to find an opportunity to have innards in sheep intestine in the AM with my hangover.
l. I had a wacky conversation with NS who is smarter, weirder, and wackier than me. Later in the evening we were standing listening to a dangerous cover band called "The Free Radicals" who were playing the greatest hits of every generation after the banquet. He said to me,"Wouldn't it be great to be in a band like that?" And I turned to him and said, "I was in a band like that. I was the singer."
m. BBFK and I got a mani-pedi done at a fabulous nail place in CT. It's in a little strip mall and it has the most haphazard decor. But it has this really homey Korean "Steel Magnolias" feel to it. The owner is a pretty little Korean woman who makes you feel young smart and pretty. I could totally imagine coming in with BBFK and other girlfriends and having a good gossip session and getting advice about my love life and beauty tips on a regular basis. As if I was a real girl who carefully practiced beauty as a discipline.
n. I got advice on how to regulate your heat if you have electric heat. Close the windows and doors, do the caulking and plasticing and what have you. Set the thermostat and leave it for a good while. If you need to raise the temperature do it slowly and gradually. Turn the stat up one degree and wait at least one hour. And if you need to do that again. The biggest energy cost with your electic heat is raising the temperature of a room abruptly. According to SD who is newly a home owner.
o. Thanks to Noel I have the most terrific craving for corn soup. Right now!
b. There is a brand of cola drink in Peru called Inca Kola that is made with sugar cane that G's roomates say is really really good. According to Wikipedia, Inca Kola has manage to out compete Pepsi and Coca-cola through smart marketing, low prices, and national pride. "Inca Kola - the taste of a nation"
c. The sight of G squealing up and over the airport curb was most welcome after a long day of travel.
d. Do not wear suspenders on days that you travel on airplanes. The metal detectors will not be kind to you. Nor will the axnious passengers waiting behind you.
e. There was hella rain in Connecticut. Like a great lake dropping from the sky. LaGuardia airport had many drips from its ceilings and CSHL's auditorium had one nice big loud one as well. (most distracting during a piano recital) Perhaps East Coasters should start building boats and prepare to pack up two of everything to take with, just in case. I would be sure to pack two drummers, two bass players, two crystallographers, two histologists, and two poets, two potters and two ... (Hmmm, I'd better make plans to build a bigger boat. I'd also like to take a full brass band in duplicate.)
f. At CSHL they have a recital during the conference. They feature a talented young artist of international reputation who come and plays for the attendees and for members of the community. Afterwards there are cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. For us it was Jean-Efflam Bavouzet of France. He played an evening of pieces by Ravel. Most of what I know about Ravel is "Bolero" in that ice-dancing routine where the pair slide to their death at the end. (I am not a big fan.) But my mind has been changed. Jeux D'eau, Miroirs, and Gaspard de la Nuit were just dynamite. I kinda wish that recitals were more arena rock so we could shower Mssr. Bavouzet with thunderous applause for hitting a particularly challenging passage, as we would at a rock show. Because he was the shit.
He got standing ovations and came out to twice to grace us with an encore.
g. I have been thinking about firsts. This trip had a few firsts:
I took the NYC subway by myself for the first time.
I ate a whole lobster. (I was complimented on my fine dissection skills.)
I caught the bouquet at a wedding.
I won money at the casino. ($8 on the slots. Yeah Baby!)
I bought honey roasted almonds from a street vendor. (They are better if you let them sit in your coat pocket for a few minutes. Crispier.)
At the meeting, a second year graduate student from Canada offered to be my first post-doc should I decide to open my own lab. (Mind you I have not landed a post-doc offer for myself.)
h. I ate at a buffet almost every day (sometimes twice in a day.) I have the waistline to prove it. I fearlessly stacked my plates into mountains of food. SD and PN actually complimented me on my ability to pile food on a plate at the Casino Buffet (last buffet of the trip). I graduated up to a new eating weight class.
i. Casinos are strange places. No daylight, white noise and the sound of falling coins, cotton candy perfumes infusing the air. Elderly ladies complaing about losing canes or having them stolen while gambling. People circling your winning slot machine in an interested and slightly predatory way. Do not go to the casino when you are tired. Leave while you are still feeling good while you can enjoy the noise and the novelty and the kitch. If you are tired at the casino you start to notice desperate expressions of the people around you who take chances but who cannot handle loss, the people who cannot afford to lose.
The casino is a calculated seduction. Everything is there to distract you from the fact that these games of chance favor the house.
j. Yes, Lever and BBFK are even more excessively cute together in person than they are online, if that is possible. Interspersed with lengthy dialogues about farting. They even bicker cute.
k. I have been twice told that Haggis is really great. (especially deep fried.) So now I have to find an opportunity to have innards in sheep intestine in the AM with my hangover.
l. I had a wacky conversation with NS who is smarter, weirder, and wackier than me. Later in the evening we were standing listening to a dangerous cover band called "The Free Radicals" who were playing the greatest hits of every generation after the banquet. He said to me,"Wouldn't it be great to be in a band like that?" And I turned to him and said, "I was in a band like that. I was the singer."
m. BBFK and I got a mani-pedi done at a fabulous nail place in CT. It's in a little strip mall and it has the most haphazard decor. But it has this really homey Korean "Steel Magnolias" feel to it. The owner is a pretty little Korean woman who makes you feel young smart and pretty. I could totally imagine coming in with BBFK and other girlfriends and having a good gossip session and getting advice about my love life and beauty tips on a regular basis. As if I was a real girl who carefully practiced beauty as a discipline.
n. I got advice on how to regulate your heat if you have electric heat. Close the windows and doors, do the caulking and plasticing and what have you. Set the thermostat and leave it for a good while. If you need to raise the temperature do it slowly and gradually. Turn the stat up one degree and wait at least one hour. And if you need to do that again. The biggest energy cost with your electic heat is raising the temperature of a room abruptly. According to SD who is newly a home owner.
o. Thanks to Noel I have the most terrific craving for corn soup. Right now!
Thursday, October 13, 2005
home again
My little cousin is 30.
My friends have grown up.
My feet and knees hurt from walking from Central Park South to 14th street.
The world is turning faster than I thought.
I wore everything I packed except a little black dress and a tank top.
The kitchen is a mountain of dirty dishes
and I must accept the fact that I can't survive on five hours of sleep a night for 9 days.
The man on television (from kentucky) is playing a guitar-like instrument with a body made from a fruitcake tin.
There is so much to remember, it is hard to know where to start or what to say. It's always like that.
My friends have grown up.
My feet and knees hurt from walking from Central Park South to 14th street.
The world is turning faster than I thought.
I wore everything I packed except a little black dress and a tank top.
The kitchen is a mountain of dirty dishes
and I must accept the fact that I can't survive on five hours of sleep a night for 9 days.
The man on television (from kentucky) is playing a guitar-like instrument with a body made from a fruitcake tin.
There is so much to remember, it is hard to know where to start or what to say. It's always like that.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
nose like the mating call of a moose
I am woefully allergic to New York. Whatever it is that they have on the Long Island in this season is killing me. And the meager pharmaceuticals they have to offer do nothing to help me.
The woman in the room next door to me cannot sleep because I blow my nose too loudly. She gave me her nasal decongestant in the hopes that it would help me be more quiet. It has not. I am just stifling snuffles in a big fluffy towel. She felt bad about this and came over to apologize for possibly hurting my feelings. But I have been hearing this complaint from family and boyfriends for many many years. It is what it is.
Just for tonight I am in an austere little room with no radio or television on the campus of the Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory. She need not fear. Tomorrow I will be shuttled off to the seminary with all the other unsavory types.
As for CSHL, the main conference hall is the most beautiful little auditorium I have ever seen. There is a painting in the lobby entitled: unpainted cow jumps the fence. It's a square white cow tumbling over a fence. And the cafeteria served among an abundance of amazing food - chocolate cannolis with the slightest hint of cinnamon. *Wow!*
I am not sure why I am here. I just hope to have a few cool conversations about science and not to be observed sleeping through the sessions.
In a great irony - I drove up to CU to catch a plane to Chi and then NY only to have the first plane have mechanical failure. So I was rerouted. I drove up to CU to catch a plane back down to St. Lou and then to NY.
The woman in the room next door to me cannot sleep because I blow my nose too loudly. She gave me her nasal decongestant in the hopes that it would help me be more quiet. It has not. I am just stifling snuffles in a big fluffy towel. She felt bad about this and came over to apologize for possibly hurting my feelings. But I have been hearing this complaint from family and boyfriends for many many years. It is what it is.
Just for tonight I am in an austere little room with no radio or television on the campus of the Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory. She need not fear. Tomorrow I will be shuttled off to the seminary with all the other unsavory types.
As for CSHL, the main conference hall is the most beautiful little auditorium I have ever seen. There is a painting in the lobby entitled: unpainted cow jumps the fence. It's a square white cow tumbling over a fence. And the cafeteria served among an abundance of amazing food - chocolate cannolis with the slightest hint of cinnamon. *Wow!*
I am not sure why I am here. I just hope to have a few cool conversations about science and not to be observed sleeping through the sessions.
In a great irony - I drove up to CU to catch a plane to Chi and then NY only to have the first plane have mechanical failure. So I was rerouted. I drove up to CU to catch a plane back down to St. Lou and then to NY.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
screen-save a memory
Somethings are difficult to articulate, but simple to illustrate.
We were in your car driving through downtown Urbanana to my house. A Postal Service song came on the radio and I turned to you and raved about the Postal Service. About how amazed I was at Ben Gibbard's ability (talented bastard) to write a beautiful, stunning, perfect lyric. "I - am thinking it's a sign, that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they perfectly align."
You touched a button on your stereo and the song, "Such Great Heights" came on. And I was struck with utter happiness and uncontainable delight. I kissed you and proceded to dance madly in my seat and we sang along.
It was the smallest thing. It was the smallest thing yet, it filled the biggest space, and right there, right then, it was everything.
'They will see us waving from such great heights, "come down now," they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away, "come down now," but we'll stay. '
We were in your car driving through downtown Urbanana to my house. A Postal Service song came on the radio and I turned to you and raved about the Postal Service. About how amazed I was at Ben Gibbard's ability (talented bastard) to write a beautiful, stunning, perfect lyric. "I - am thinking it's a sign, that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they perfectly align."
You touched a button on your stereo and the song, "Such Great Heights" came on. And I was struck with utter happiness and uncontainable delight. I kissed you and proceded to dance madly in my seat and we sang along.
It was the smallest thing. It was the smallest thing yet, it filled the biggest space, and right there, right then, it was everything.
'They will see us waving from such great heights, "come down now," they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away, "come down now," but we'll stay. '
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Loafing around
All my life I have wanted to bake bread. I have this day-dream about becoming a baker - up before the sun, covered in flour, elbow deep in bread dough. Providing people with the staff of life. Kerchief on my head and the sounds of the balalaika in the background. (My own rustic idle) And after years and years of this ilk, yesterday I baked my first yeast breads, ever. And while they were not very baguette-like, they were a nice skinny loaves of dense white bread.
It was fun like playing with really sticky and stretchy playdoh. A nice mellow activity to while away an afternoon.
This is ganked from "French Women Don't Get Fat" by Mirielle Guiliano. Which pretends to be a diet book but it reads like a cross between a meditation of living French and a love letter to food and champagne.
4-5 cps of all purpose white flour
1 tsp live active yeast
2 tsp kosher salt
1 egg
water
1. Dissolve yeast in a 1/2 cp of warm water. Stir with a fork and set aside for 10 min.
2. Mix Flour and Salt in a big mixing bowl. Add the yeast mixture and 1.5 cps of water. Mix the dough until it's sticky enough to knead. *best part* knead for 6-10 min. Until sticky and smooth. Place dough in bowl and cover with a damp tea towel. Rise at RT until double in volume for 1 hour.
3. Punch down the dough and divide into 4 pieces. Roll each section into a ball and then shape into a baguette *second best part, can be done on a lightly floured surface* Put baguettes on a lightly greased baking sheet and let it rise to double.
4. Preheat oven to 450F. Brush the bread with a mixture of 1 egg beaten with 1 tb of cold water. Score the loaves diagnoally with a knife.
5. Pour 2 cps of hot water into a pan and place in the preheated oven next to the bread. Bake 15 min.
6. Lower heat to 400F. Bake 5-10 min. Remove and cool.
I didn't make sure to put my dough in a warmish place. I was impatient about waiting for my dough to rise in both cases. So impatient. Which might explain why it turned out dense rather than light and fluffy. But it's reasonably bread-like and delicious with butter.
It was fun like playing with really sticky and stretchy playdoh. A nice mellow activity to while away an afternoon.
This is ganked from "French Women Don't Get Fat" by Mirielle Guiliano. Which pretends to be a diet book but it reads like a cross between a meditation of living French and a love letter to food and champagne.
4-5 cps of all purpose white flour
1 tsp live active yeast
2 tsp kosher salt
1 egg
water
1. Dissolve yeast in a 1/2 cp of warm water. Stir with a fork and set aside for 10 min.
2. Mix Flour and Salt in a big mixing bowl. Add the yeast mixture and 1.5 cps of water. Mix the dough until it's sticky enough to knead. *best part* knead for 6-10 min. Until sticky and smooth. Place dough in bowl and cover with a damp tea towel. Rise at RT until double in volume for 1 hour.
3. Punch down the dough and divide into 4 pieces. Roll each section into a ball and then shape into a baguette *second best part, can be done on a lightly floured surface* Put baguettes on a lightly greased baking sheet and let it rise to double.
4. Preheat oven to 450F. Brush the bread with a mixture of 1 egg beaten with 1 tb of cold water. Score the loaves diagnoally with a knife.
5. Pour 2 cps of hot water into a pan and place in the preheated oven next to the bread. Bake 15 min.
6. Lower heat to 400F. Bake 5-10 min. Remove and cool.
I didn't make sure to put my dough in a warmish place. I was impatient about waiting for my dough to rise in both cases. So impatient. Which might explain why it turned out dense rather than light and fluffy. But it's reasonably bread-like and delicious with butter.
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