Well, it could always be worse

I lost a library book that I was reading and recently found it under a pile of dirty laundry. This book and I are "reunited and it feels so good." And we chill on the train.

Today at the West 4th stop, I came across this within its pages:

"His [Bill Eberhard's] argument is eloquently laid out in a book I have heard described by some as the most stimulating they have ever read. However, with a title like Sexual Selection and Animal Genitalia, it isn't the sort of book you would read on the train."
-Tim Birkhead
Promiscuity: An Evolutionary History of Sperm Competition

Had a good loud laugh over that on the platform.

I suppose Birkhead has a point here. Perhaps it should come with an optional plain and anonymous brown paper dust cover.

A bakers dozen on my return

1. If a cute boy recommends that you read a book do you have to actually read the thing before you try to meet up with him again? If I go about this honestly, I may need to take a speed reading class ...


2. I ran across this youtube video of snails racing. How do people come up with these things? The creation of the racetrack must have taken some effort. Although in some scenes it looks less like a race and more like an orgy. How did they get snails to move about on an oval?


3. My congratulations to those of you who wrote a novel in the Month of November. You rock!


4. Next fall I will need to renew my driver's license and decide what state I am voting in. Illinois or New York?

I am so clearly not a New Yorker that it seems deceptive to make the switch. My Midwestern-ness is so firmly ingrained. However after my visit to Seattle I wonder whether this coast is starting to rub off on me. Seattle was lovely. The people were soooo friendly. But so laid back. Way too laid back for me. Working out there was at times frustrating. I did not raise my voice. But I thought about it more than I should have.

5. There is something excessively, disturbingly virtuous about Seattle.

6. I did not see the Space Needle or the Pike St. Market while it was open or the ocean or anything else. I did not go shopping, although everyone recommended shopping as the thing to do in Seattle. I don't think I even had seafood. I did walk around a little part of the downtown area passed some little teriyaki joints. And as chance would have it, I stumbled upon a venue, The Crocodile Cafe. There was a sign on the door that said that they do not tolerate bigotry, sexism, or racism. This sign prompted me to go in even though I didn't know who was playing or what kind of music there would be. Back when I was in a booking collective, we had long discussions about putting up a code of conduct or a similar kind of sign at our shows.

So in I went for to see: PWRFL Power, Facts about Funerals, and The Elephants. I missed The Birthdays.

I did not meet any of the cute boys in the cute bands.

Instead, I met L. She and I chatted, danced to the music, had beers, and exchanged phone numbers at the close of the show. Years and years ago that would have been me and BBFK. We would have been out at a show, dancing to the tunes. Rather, years and years ago that would have been BBFK. She's the one who would talk to strangers.

The lesson learned here is that I am apparently a creature of habit. "Went to the show, did X, went to the show, did Y."

The Crocodile Cafe is the type of venue that I love. It's not The Empty Bottle or The Milestone, still, were I in Seattle long term I would probably while away many an evening there.

7. At one point someone out there told me that I did not seem like a New Yorker to them. I had no accent and for all intensive purposes could be from the Northwest. It was, I think, meant as a compliment. It didn't feel like a compliment but I can only assume that it was meant as one.

I was so happy to come back East and contend with my cranky grumpy irritable New Jersey cab driver. I could have hugged him.

And today, a stranger grabbed me by the arm and saved me from getting hit by a car that was running a red light. Brooklyn saving my life again.


8. I work with French woman who is tireless and whose work is impeccable. Her habits and attention to detail are impressive. She attends to the smallest things imaginable. And while you might think that they do not matter, you would be mistaken in thinking that way. She says that she likes to wear both belt and braces (aka suspenders). I didn't understand this until now. You wear belt and braces to make doubly sure that your pants don't fall down.

At one point I was labeling positioned items to ensure that the banquet staff did not move or clear them and she told me that I was now wearing belt and braces. Which from her I took to be a great compliment.

I laughed and told her that someday, if I was to do this for long enough I might take to wearing a jumpsuit with my belt and braces.


9. With regard to wireless access at airports, SEATAC sucks compared to ORD and STL because at SEATAC AT&T will provide you with wireless if you get a monthly subscription by which they can bleed you continuously whereas Boingo gives you the option of subscription or paying too much for a one day wireless pass at ORD and STL. The committment-phobe in me prefers this one day overpriced option.


10. Recently I met up with a friend from high school who I have not seen for 14 years. And this evening I got to see a friend who I have not seen in about 10 years. Having done this long lost friend thing twice I've got to say, I really like this. RR and KD have each gotten more beautiful and fabulous with the years. And it is such a pleasure to behold.


11. Today, I lost the train game. I fell asleep on the way home and woke up in Coney Island extremely disoriented and had to ride the train back 15 stops.


12. As might be appropriate, I read a few chapters of Joseph Stiglitz's book "Globalization and Its Discontents" on the flight from the Lou to Seattle. And it made me so furious.


13. My Dad told me that there is a Korean belief that a pregnant woman must have any food that she craves. If she does not, the child will be born with one eye smaller than the other. My Mother craved foods that she loved as a small girl in Japan. She craved Natto.

(Brung to you from the ramblingspoon)

Which just looks like the grossest thing ever. My mother couldn't buy Natto at the stores back in the day in Buffalo, NY. So she improvised. She bought soybeans and wrapped them in foil and put them on the radiator under a damp towel for some days. It was close but not quite right. And there were consequences to this.

Y'all may not know this but I have two different prescriptions for my eyes, one of them is lazy and will wander off to look at random things of it's own accord, and one of my eyes is smaller than the other. *insert spooky music*

Kat E, do not deny yourself anything your heart, stomach or palate desires.

worth 354 words

I have noticed lately that there are cameras in the cabs of New York. There seem to be cameras just about everywhere else around me too - my office, the elevator, on the street, in the shops, hotel lobbies, entrances, behind fast food counters, hallways, ATM machines, Walmart and Walmart like places. In some cities they post signs to let you know that there are cameras on the streets around you. In others they don't.

Chicago and London come to mind as two cities that each have a lot of cameras.

I used to be bummed that I take more pictures than are taken of me. But I now realize that in fact there are a whole lot of pictures being taken of me all the time and of you too.

It all seems kind of creepy, really. The State or your boss watching you at all times. Someone official, yet potentially questionable, recording you every move and storing it somewhere. It's not that I have anything to hide. It's just that I like to be the one who examines my life.

But as with all things there is a flipside.

I was in a cab in Seattle with a camera. The cabbie pointed out an particular intersection in the downtown with four cameras. He said that lots of people got speeding tickets mailed to them based on footage from those cameras. He also told me a story of a drunk guy who got in a cab and badly beat up his Sikh driver. The footage from the camera in the cab was used as evidence against the attacker.

And today I was watching this TED talk by Peter Gabriel about his involvement in human rights advocacy and a human right organization he helped found called WITNESS which provides cameras to people to document human rights abuses internationally.

What might in one case seem bad can be used in another to do good. The camera is powerful but it is in itself neutral.

What matters is your motivation and intention in picking it up and how you use the images you capture.

is it too late for that, Solo?

I tell people that I like punk shows and ska shows and the reaction is a smile and the reply, "I used to do that."

The report from the sticks

1.
Thursday as I am peeling potatoes for mashed potatoes, my mother broaches the subject of crazy things that New Yorkers do. She says, "Emo (that's Korean for mother's sister) told me that EH (my cousin) pays other people to do his laundry and she was shocked." I admit that I can't bring myself to pay another person to warsh mah drawrs. To my surprise, my mother sides with EH and suggests that in New York where time is in such short supply, having someone else warsh yer drawrs might not be such a bad thing. I think she's concerned that I am going to work in smelly socks (or drawrs). Which at other times in my life would be a valid concern.

2.
My mother has been obsessively watching this 20 episode Korean love story. Clearly, we are related as this is something I would do. It's pretty delightfully overwrought stuff. There's a piano player, a girl with serious glasses, and a handsome Korean American dude who doesn't speak much Korean. All of his dialogue is in English while everyone else speaks Korean to each other and to him. So his understanding of Korean is apparently perfect. The soundtrack is so painfully sentimental. It's killing me. The best part: I started mocking the goofy hairdo of the leading boy, insisting that he needed a haircut. And my mother defended him saying in all seriousness, "It's his style!" Such a role reversal between us. I love it.

3.
My father has become a huge Jorge Luis Borges fan. HUGE. I can't even explain to you just how huge. He has decided that Borges is a greater writer than Brecht, Kafka, and Joyce. I forgot to ask him whether Borges beats out Thomas Mann, Stendhal, and Flaubert.

4.
There are throngs of disappointed search engine users who wander over here seeking advice on finding things to do - things to do in the Winter Season or crazy things to do in the office after hours, etc. All I will say on the second matter is check to see if there are surveillance cameras or a late night cleaning crew and be sure to clean up after yourself (especially if it's not your office or desk). Right.

5.
It was snowing in Chicago while I was there changing planes. The snowflakes were fluffy, fat and drifty. At first they floated down and then they started to fall faster and faster. And then they vanished. It was so pretty I wanted to call someone. But it was frightful early to call anyone just to say, "Snow! Pretty!"

6.
On my way home from work on Wednesday I walked by a man carrying a guitar on the subway platform. I sat down and he circled back and offered to play me a beautiful song. "No financial obligation." He leaned in and played "Dream a Little Dream of Me," a song that I love. He did a lovely light version on the acoustic 12 string in a lovely light voice and I sang along with a little harmony. After which he offered me a second song. I asked him to play me a song he had written. It was this great slidely, slinky girl-I-gotta-get-with-you tune at which point my train arrived. I found a couple dollars which I put in the sound hole in his guitar as requested and went on my way. As the train doors closed he said that I have a beautiful vibe. To my mind it was his beautiful vibe not mine.

7.
I've been looking for a version of the song, "Dream a Little Dream of Me" to share with you on youtube only to discover the youtube fan montage.

Montage #1

Montage #2

A practice that I find strange and charming and in each of these cases quite impressive. I am surprised to say that I now find the gawky skinny Henry Thomas kind of dreamy.


8.
The other thing that I discovered (a while back) on youtube is that dancing to Thriller with Thriller choreography is something of a wedding reception mini-phenomenon.

The bridal party learns the dance and performs it for the rest of the reception. Search with the terms: thriller wedding.

Who on earth dances to a song the refers to "the thing with the 40 eyes" at their wedding? Who on earth dances like a zombie to such a song at their wedding? Although I'd have to say that the dancing in most of the videos could use more zombie-ness.

Where is the sense of decorum and appropriateness?
Do lyrics count for nothing nowadays?

That being said, I am now daydreaming about getting married in a theme wedding based on the Thriller video as a bloody zombie bride, groaning and limping my way down the aisle to the dead one that I love. My mother would kill me.

I wrote a joke last night

"Did you hear? 9 out of 10 people think that censorship sucks. The other one doesn't want to hear about it."

to the matter of age defiance

This past weekend CK and I were in Bloomingdale's and each tried a dab of pricey eye cream. I was dabbing mine onto the skin under my eye when the woman behind the counter told me that I was not supposed to dab it up so high.

"You don't need to do that, it will creep up there on its own," she said. And I thanked her and walked away.

On further reflection I am not comfortable with things that will creep up my face. I might have to forgo the eye cream thing.

A reminder for all of us looking for love

Have you ever read "The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing"? I love the last story. It's warm and hopeful and funny and sweet. The following passage is one I have often thought about.

I say that we met after college in New York, and that over the years we had a succession of boyfriends but weren't so happy with any of them. We were always asking each other, "Is this all we can expect?"

"Then, I say, "there was our sea-horse period, when we were told that we didn't need mates; we were supposed to make ourselves happy just bobbing around in careers.

"Finally Sophie met Max," I say and turn serious. I look over at him. I think, He has a nice face. And I say this into the microphone. "He gets how funny and generous and wholehearted she is. He understands what a big person she is, and yet he doesn't want to crush her." I get some blank stares here, but Sophie's laughing. I say, "Max is the man Sophie didn't know if she could hope for."

- Melissa Banks

Saw "American Gangster" today with TB. It was really good.

I could not decide who I was rooting for in the movie. I found both main characters compelling. But now that I am home the afterimages in my head are all of the scenes of junkies and the effects of the drug trade on human lives.

It has been too long since I last saw a movie in theaters. I can tell because when it's been too long, all the previews look good.

prelude to holiday cheer

I can't get this song out of my head. I blame CK.

The Job of a Lifetime - Why did I not major in Weed Science?

Weed Ecologist

ANNOUNCEMENT NO:

RA-08-034H
POSITION:

Ecologist
LOCATION:

Urbana, IL

DESCRIPTION OF DUTIES: The position is located in the Invasive Weed Management Unit, Urbana, IL. The incumbent will conduct quantitative risk analysis of the invasive potential of bioenergy feedstock species. Complementary risk modeling approaches will be used, including, but not limited to: empirical estimates of dispersal probability, integrodifference equation models, and population viability analyses. Measurements of demographic rates and of the probability of vegetative and sexual dispersal and establishment of Miscanthus x giganteus will be generated in field and laboratory experiments and used to parameterize risk models.

QUALIFICATION REQUIREMENTS: Recent Ph.D. in Plant Ecology, Weed Science or a closely related field is required. Experience in mathematical modeling, ecological statistics and field experimentation in plant demography are desirable.

INFORMATION ON SALARY AND APPLICATION PROCEDURES FOR POSTDOCTORAL POSITIONS is available at: http://www.afm.ars.usda.gov/divisions/hrd/hrdhomepage/vacancy/pd962.html


Just think, someday cars will have bumper stickers that say
"This car runs on Weed" or "We don't run out of grass."

investing for the future

This past weekend I was in Texas with the Mystechs. We were in Austin, Denton, and Dallas. While in Texas I made my first investment into the my dream career.

That's right, friends, find me some virgins to hire cause I've taken my first steps towards owning and running my very own:



Unicorn Ranch!

After some deliberation I decided that I would need to raise both good and evil unicorns. How does one distinguish one type from the other before they are old enough to start showing the rainbow or skull pattern on the flank?

The box suggests asking the unicorn following questions:

1. Do you like to prance through meadows?

2. Have you ever spent all day chasing butterflies and rainbows?

3. Is your favorite sound a laughing brook?

4. Do you believe the children are our future?

5. Are fairies your friends?

6. Do you go around impaling Teddy bears and baby seals?

7. Have you ever dreamed of ruling the underworld?

8. Are you still bitter you weren't invited on the ark?

9. Have you ever used you hooves to bludgeon the weak and innocent?

10. Do you occasionally breathe fire?

I leave it to you to figure out what kind of unicorn you are. It's a question each of us has to ask ourselves in a private moment.

Free Rice

I was about to go to bed when I came across an entry on JV's lj in which she said that she had spent part of the day on FreeRice.com And as this is the second time I have heard tell of this site, I wandered over to check it out for myself.

From October 7 to November 13 the site has donated through the help of web advertising: 1,712,371,750 grains of rice.

How many bowls or bags or pounds do you think that is?

And so, Dear Employer,

I am weary today because at a very early part of this morning which was for me, yesterday night, I reached a vocab level of 42 and donated 560 grains of rice. Perhaps I should just send money or bags of rice to the UN World Food Program directly in the future.

Hugs and Rock,

Me

such a late update

So. I did learn the choreography. And I slapped on some zombie makeup and went out to Tompkins Square park and took part in Thrilling the World.

And according the website, at least unofficially, a new world record has been set. 1,722 people in 52 cities on 5 continents danced simultaneously to "Thriller" at the same time.

There is Youtube video but I was in the very far back corner of the formation so there is the occasional glimpses of my hair or my elbow but very little else. Alas.

Having a goofy thing like this to prepare for, focus on, look forward to. Having an excuse to dance around the house. Taking time to actively connect my brain to the coordinated movement of my body. Having "Thriller" be my internal soundtrack for a week. And doing one of the many ridiculous things that appeal to me that I usually find out about after the fact - well I tell ya, it was grand. Really grand.

I think I am starting to get the hang of the zombie makeup. Now I need to work on the bloody gaping wounds. Next time.

Thrill the World

On Sunday I watched the movie "13 going on 30" which I liked very much. But more on that later. Among the many scenes that I love in the movie, I loved the Thriller dance scene at the party. It got me thinking about great dance scenes from movies. But more on that later.

Thriller doesn't happen to be a video that I remember all that well because as a child I did not have cable. In fact, as an adult I don't either.

So I went to YouTube to try to find the video for study because it seems like I cannot actually call myself a child of the 80's if I don't know how to do the most influential dance sequence of my generation.

And there I stumbled across a 40 part instructional series on doing the Thriller dance.

Someone is trying to set a new Guinness World record for most people simultaneously doing the thriller dance at once. The current record is 62 people in Toronto, Canada.

And they are trying to beat that this year. The project is called: Thrill the World. For the 25th anniversary of the release of the album people will convene globally to dance for 5 minutes to the radio version of Thriller - all dancing the same agreed on choreography at times that synch up to 6pm Sat Oct 27, 2007 Toronto time.

Of course I hear about this at the last minute and am trying to figure out if I can locate a Guinness registered location near me and if I can learn that choreography in three days.

If you've heard the details of an event in the NYC let me know.

Shaking it off - the old and new

Strangely I have been in New York long enough that I describe certain modes of being as reminiscent of my "Old New York Life." My old New York life had a lot in common with the way I felt on my first Mystechs tour.

I don't know where it went.

The little things have been all that my life is about. The little things are not my strong suit. At the start it was kind of interesting. A challenge. After about a year it feels like death by a thousand papercuts. The little things have been tripping me up and getting me down.

It was one thing when I felt that I was teeming with money, my every free moment was spent in the pursuit of happiness or at least distraction.

And now I feel broke all the time and I pack a lunch to bring to work. I feel tired all the time and all I want to do is sleep late, sit at home, watch TV, and fall asleep on the couch.

Oddly, while I have been feeling broke I have taken to going to the Farmer's Market on the weekends. It's mind bogglingly expensive. And the bags I walk back with are mindbogglingly heavy. But walking around and touching produce and then buying it is fun. Very different from the grocery store. Although, you know how I love that too.

And I tell myself that I am doing something good. Reducing the miles on my food. Supporting local growers. Getting out into my community. And all that good hippy stuff.

Mindbogglingly expensive produce offers it's own powerful incentives to cook or some other form of food preparation. I bought a loaf of bread for $5 on Saturday - mindboggling.

And I made the most amazing grilled cheese sandwich with that bread. It may very well have been the best grilled cheese sandwich of my life. My soul felt nourished with its consumption. This experience may be irreproduceable. Especially considering that dire and desperate hunger probably played some role in my perception of the deliciousness. But seriously I think this might be my greatest accomplishment since moving to NY.

Inevitably the purchase of produce on Saturday leads to a mad late night effort to cook a little something on Sunday. Tonight it was blackeyed peas with stewed tomaters and brown rice. Also a can of creamed corn + frozen corn.

Later this week hopefully some ratatouille 'cause I bought eggplants and perhaps tilapia tacos 'cause I saw someone make them in TV and they looked gooooood.

Among the issues in my life I have been searching for a dentist. It's a dire need. Not knowing how to go about it, I have been trying to comb through doctoroogle.com in search of a dentist.

I started knitting my second sweater (the first one was a total fiasco and is still unfinished.) only to find after finishing the front part that None of the rest of the yarn I own matches what I have used. So I am now seeking a yarn shop to buy a bunch of skeins of some complementary or close to matching and compatible stuff. Apparently, my second sweater will also be a total fiasco, though I hope to finish it.

Went to the Mustard Plug show on Saturday. I had it in my head to be up front next to the stage. Lots of shoving and bruising and pushing and leaning. Lots of idiots crowd surfing. It was great. Somehow spiritually purifying. Plus, there's no time to think about the little things when you are trying not to get knocked down and trampled. At last - distraction.

another talented bastard

Andrew Mall has a new issue of livingproof. Issue #5: Rapprochement

"These words used to be songs, songs that we screamed along with on the way home from a show, dark highway behind and the future, bright and clear and mysterious, ahead. I knew all the words once, and while that is no longer true, I still instinctively retain the triumphant choruses and the painful confessions, no matter how much time has passed in the interim.

The bands that sang these songs are no more, and in many ways neither are those of us who sang along. We are different people now than we were then, but we also have the luxury of memory and nostalgia to remind us what it once felt like to care so muhc for a single thing that the pain was palpable. This zine is dedicated to the people we used to be, and the bands we used to love." - Andrew Mall

"Sure there are sections that may not appeal to those of you who are unfamiliar with Rainer Maria, but I think most everyone can appreciate the kind of love for a band that results in the type of self-flagellation on display in these pages. So please, do your best to read beyond the words: think about your favorite band, the lessons you learned from them, the ways in which you've built your life around these lessons, the memories they inspired, and how it felt when they broke up." - Andrew Mall


And I am a puddle to the words on his pages and not even halfway through the thing. Talented bastard.

His site is here.

serious questions

If I choose to spend time with the one I love rather than the one that loves me, does that make me a masochist?

The other way to summarize my resume

In conversation with SE, I admit to the fact I am 37 and the job I have now is really the first proper job that I have had. I have only been working in the real world for a bit over a year.

And his reply was that he thought this was something to be proud of having accomplished in my life. A comment which certainly gave me pause.

I can bring home the bacon

As a child I watched the Enjoli perfume ads.

"I can bring home the bacon
Fry it up in a pan
and never let you forget you're a man
'cause I'm a woman, Enjoli."

Somehow despite my best efforts it's one of those things that lodged into my brain as a model for womanhood.

And now I am at the point where one is unlikely to call me a young woman or girl and would likely consider me to be in the category of woman. I find that I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan and make an effort to try to make a man feel like a man. The problem is, I haven't figured out how one manages to do all three simultaneously. I can bring home the bacon but that means I don't have time to fry it. And with the addition of interacting with the other gender - well - how does anyone manage to get any damn sleep around here?

There must be a trick to it. SD recently showed me a trick to dealing with those plastic grocery bags for produce. They are so difficult to get open sometimes. "Lick, pinch, and twist." Seriously it's that easy. One might think that this series of verbs would help in other endeavors but I think that varies widely in the population.

So there must be a trick to it. Maybe one of you out there knows it. Maybe it's as simple as three verbs in a row. Maybe it comes in a bottle, like it did in the 70's.

My other model for womanhood was the Charlie ads.
"Kinda young kinda now, Charlie
Kinda free kinda wow, Charlie"

Y'know wearing pants suits and being sassy and flirty.

It was all kind of muddled and confusing yet so heady and glamorous to try to imagine emulating.

What do young girls today see in the media and envision to be their models of womanhood? The Pussycat Dolls? Skimpy outfits, pelvic thrusts, and booty shaking. It's a whole new world. A bit beyond me, really. Let us offically stop calling me girl or young woman, then.