fraying

here is the point
where the fraying ropes
meet-- bisected for a moment
by a lone hair
hanging in the aquamarine
hush.

in the aquamarine hush
my body trying to catch
closer. how do you run
while lying still?
street light cuts in
through 2 missing slats. the blinds
see more than the cold sheets.

sheets of vapor layer
into a fog where lies escape
untouched, like schooners
sailing without a lighthouse--
parting water with their hollow
hulls, and where
is the point?

happy-go-lucky

tender film with a lead that warms up to you as the story unfolds. the funniest and most heart-breaking parts occur during poppy's driving lesson's with scott. the parallel between his suffering and her student's difficulties at school was an interesting and subtle way to show the importance of someone like poppy-- someone who posses that attitude towards life and believes change can occur. overall, an accurate portrayal of an average life lived in a not-so-average way. not sure what role the youngest sister played in the movie, though.

disparate

this green light glows steady
this green light blinks on
this green light jitters nervous
all through the dawn.

11:31, a description

diction changed when the person did.

the cat's claws chasing the screen-- sped the cursor on, fleeing for its life. into the future it went-- content to muse
on the past. ignore the present.

the words exchanged inter-state.

some music.

eyes closing to open up real wide.

this experiment, a collision of gnats.
the uncertainty principle of gnats.

sorry to have dragged you into this, mr. heisenberg.

white teeth- zadie smith

And there should be nothing to worry about and there is nothing to worry about, except maybe that outside in the streets it is cold packed on cold, even the dogshit has crystallized, there is the first suggestion of ice on the windscreens and Clara has been in that house through the winters. She knows what it means. Oh, wonderfully bright at 6:00 a.m., yes, wonderfully clear for an hour. But the shorter the days, the longer the nights, the darker the house, the easier it is, the easier it is, the easier it is, to mistake a shadow for the writing on the wall, the sound of overland footsteps for the distant crack of thunder, and the midnight chime of a New Year clock for the bell that tolls for the end of the world.

tiny feelings

two gentle paws and the warm breath of an animal finally out of hiding-- the way something so fleeting can so quickly reassure

overhearing an exuberant and familiar voice spout unfamiliar plans-- realizing the reassuring is not immune to fleeing or fragility

now chilled skin where touch just left. a man asked me today, "is it snowing?"

playing catch up

i had a scary realization when trying to decide when to visit a friend in arkon, the coldest place on earth. knowing my schedule from now to august is pretty packed, i told her september or october would probably work well for a visit. it wasn't until i reread the sentence, and october jumped out screaming, "i have the potential to be very cold!"

my brain hasn't totally processed that it's summer, let alone that winter will inevitably return again. i think all i do in this blog is muse about the passage of time, but if it's supposed to be a reflection of my thoughts, that's about right.

so time's been flying by in a constructive, productive, fun-filled way by doing the following:

-signing a lease on a new place; the first floor of a house with a backyard and front stoop for not a penny more than we're paying currently and many steps closer to the el.

-picking up advanced reader's copies of books for free at annual conference in anaheim.

-finding out way more than is probably professional advisable about the sex lives of my coworkers over dinner.

-listening to new music like foals (who bloc party wanted to be but never will be)

-getting knocked by a cab on my bike

-addressing wedding invitations for a friend's wedding

-spending $200 on music tickets

-starting fiddle lessons

-bike riding and beach riding

-watching movies and not really watching movies

-being thankful; in comparison to last winter, it all seems too easy.

improv

before it gets to be july and i get totally out of habit with this, i'll post a quickie about improv.
that was apparently the them of last week, when i attended my first ever improv comedy show on tuesday and a jazz concert featuring, saxophonist, wayne shorter on friday.

obviously, both shows spoke to the act of improv in their own way, but both were hard to believe. the improv show was split into two acts, the first being bassprov. it's a two-red-necks-sitting-in-a-boat-lines-lying-fat-chewing spiel. that night they were joined by a third. they took 3 suggestions from the audience, the lights dimmed, and they took off. (well, after the lights came back up.) perhaps the most impressive thing was that they were able to circulate back to the starting point of the conversation without reusing the same jokes.

the jazz concert was also my first time at symphony center. we sat so far up you had to hold on with two hands to the handrail when walking down the stairs because the vertigo was so bad. that's a pretty good metaphor for the concert. i was way in over my head but fascinated. the guy's 75 years old and not only did he not take an intermission he didn't stop playing for an 1h45m. unbelievable.

being a musician that was trained in a strict classical style, a poet that reads from the page, and more or less a person that hides from spontaneity, i admire those who can improvise. tonight at my first fiddle lesson, my teacher drew an interesting comparison. he said that although it's true, improvising consists of playing from your mind not the page, it's a lot like speaking. there are certain patterns and ideas you follow. it's not like each time you play you're coming up with something completely new, just like each time you speak you don't create new words. so this seems to crack the code to improv a tiny bit, but it's still greek to me.

high?

hi!

that's the way the cookie crumbles

"one of the side effects of work on the heart of gold was a whole string of pretty meaningless coincidences."

how true.

how true.

blood donation: pretty badass until band-aid removal

yesterday i got stabbed in an RV on the side of the road.

actually, i gave blood in a mobile donation van parked curbside on roscoe. not as exciting as the first, but maybe a bit more sanitary.

i like giving blood. it makes me feel justified in refusing to give money to people that hang around outside the chicago red line stop each morning. no, i will not give you $.50 and you can call me a bitch for it, but if you were to get stabbed in an RV on the side of the road, my blood might be there for you. how's that for an altruistic look at life?

the most painful part of blood donation is the finger prick, which they administer to check iron levels. after a second test, i was allowed to donate because my iron came in just above the 12.6 requirement at 12.9. i'm guessing this is the main reason as to why i came close to passing out in my chair. the woman comes up to me and says,

you're almost done, how do you feel?
good.
--30 seconds later--
do you have any water? i'm really hot.
do you think you're going to throw up?
maybe.

then i closed my eyes or they closed for me, and tried to keep my breakfast inside while ignoring the sweat rolling down my back. at this point one woman is pulling the needle out of my arm while another nurse is putting two ice packs on my neck and chest. i drink some water and pull back from the edge of the black twinkly world of which i'd glimpsed. ten minutes later i was eating some animal cookies and walking back home. i napped hard core for a good two hours.

a friend called asking me to go out, and since it'd been the prescribed 4-6 hours with my band-aid on, i decided to remove it. come to find out, the nurse had put not only a band-aid on but also a folded sheet of gauze secured by about 7" of surgical tape that nearly wrapped all the way around my arm. i attempted to tear it off but couldn't do it myself. i went to my roommate who boldly took on the task.

woah, are you okay? you're not going to pass out on me, are you?
no, i'm fine. let's do this. just make it quick.
--insert sound of surgical adhesive ripped away from stretch skin--
ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. god! that hurt.
are you ready for the next one?
yes, go. fast.
--insert sound of fine, delicate arm hair torn from soft skin--
ahhhhhhhhhh.

i was left with an attractive stripe of red, swollen, hairless skin where said bandage had been. it's surprising my vein didn't collapse at that point. then i took of the band-aid only to realize all the torment had caused the hole to start bleeding again, thus requiring a new band-aid.
now here i sit attempting to rip it off. my roommate is gone, so i'm going to have to suck it up.
or wait until she comes home. oh the cyclical nature of life.

shameless self-promotion is ok when there's no audience

for reasons nostalgic, vain, and sentimental, i wrote to a professor at the good old alma mater and asked if he might possibly dig through stacks of submitted goldman applications, find mine, and return it to its author. he agreed and in a marvel of not-so-modern technology it arrived in my postbox this day.

what's a goldman application you ask? well it's an application to apply for the joanna jackson goldman memorial prize, and this probably describes it best. last year, my 12 credit-hour schedule allowed me enough free time to find the above link and feel guilty enough about my slacker semester to decide to dream and write up a proposal. the process falls into the category "if i had known how much work this was going to be before, i would have never started it". but then again, that solved my developing under-achiever complex. be careful what you wish for, i suppose.

anyway, long story short, i applied, made it to the final round, sat through the scariest interview of my life to date, (i use the word "sat" intentionally. i fielded questions from 10 professors and 2 students for 45 minutes, which felt like eternity during the inquisition and like 4.5 nanoseconds upon its completion. when i exited the interview so did all my memories of the event. it was out of body. i like to stay in my body. it's comfortable there.), and (now back from the aside [and example of why i'm a proponent of the oxford comma]) i didn't get the prize. but the heroine of this story did learn many life lessons, explore herself, and form new relationships.

all this back story for what? simply to lead to more inane writing.
after opening up the package that contained my application, i skimmed through the little baby, and remembered about this gem.

going back to something you wrote months or years ago has the potential to frighten. does the fact that i didn't groan or roll my eyes when reading these posts mean i've developed as a writer? probably, it means i haven't developed at all as a person.


(who did win the prize you might be wondering? this girl. saving a language. big deal.)

a year ago today

one year ago i graduated from college.
i've survived my first year of post-undergraduate.

at times, it really did feel like survival, but those are the times. it's not that the past year went so fast or slow. yes, time did strange things like light speed through thrilling weeks with someone new only to expand infinitely through months of unemployment.

the startling part about the last year, however, wasn't the time but the events themselves. it is their striking contrast that makes the time since graduation inexplicable and difficult to capture.

like most opposites, the beginning and the end often act the same. i ended my time at miami by spending the last missing out on several hours of sleep getting to know someone amazing. i packed up four years and moved them home by myself on a two-day drive home.

i unpacked.

i packed for a six-week trip through europe with my best friend from college. we drove a rented stick-shift through crete at 6am, slept with a homeless woman in florence, bicycled through amsterdam. we did a stereotypical post-college tour of europe. while we had done something many others our age had done, and will do, we did it just a little differently because it was us doing it.

i flew to columbus to see friends.
i flew to chicago to find an apartment.
i flew to kansas city to unpack.

i packed for what, in many ways, would be the last family vacation of its kind. the three of us embarked on a two-week road trip of the west. i was fascinated by that which i had never seen before. it wasn't europe but it amazed me just as much. we spent time together as a family. we laughed. we drove each other a little nuts. we watched the landscape change and counted animals. we appreciated each other. we returned home in time for me to pack.

i moved to chicago.
i started a new job.
i met new friends.
i ran into a guy.
i worked trade shows.
i quit the job.
i searched for new employment.
i explored the city.
i volunteered as a tutor.
i went to concerts.
i offered parts of myself.
i ate brunch.
i felt optimistic.
i interviewed.
i felt rejected.
i felt defeated.
i cried.
i ached.
i received a phone call.
i worried.
i stressed.
i gave up.
i received another phone call.
i celebrated.
i worked.
i grew.
i decided.
i reflected.

i don't think i can articulate the next part without sounding like the moral of the story.
a lot has happened in the past year, but pain of some events don't diminish the joy of others. i've experienced both emotions vividly and frequently since leaving miami and while that has made it an almost incongruous, disjointed year it has been complete. i could not ask for more.

to pee or not to pee

i pee a lot.

it's not a health condition or a problem. it's just who i am. as a result, i'm tuned in to the functioning of my apartment's toilet and, thus, i realized immediately that something was wrong when the flush cycle ran longer than usual yesterday afternoon.

peering into the tank, i noticed the flush ball had almost completely broken off from the arm. with the buoy-as-balance-as-water-level-indicator idea shot, this resulted in the water continuing to run at an excessive rate. using making tape, i jimmied the arm up, took some photos for the hardware store, and realized i 1). knew nothing about toilet parts or reconstruction and 2). could be in a very sad, lonely place if this toilet was out of commission for more than, well, an hour.

the man at the hardware store hardly glanced at my artfully taken toilet shots before announcing, "well you need all new guts." i assumed he was talking about the toilet and not me, accepted the packaged guts into my open hand, and rode home wondering if 9-step instructions could possibly detail what to do with all the parts included in this kit.

returning home i weighed my options. my list of home-repair is not too lengthy. i've doctored up a scratch on my car, unclogged a shower drain, and fixed a running toilet by discovering the screw in the fill valve was a litte loose. and while i can boast installing my bed, dresser drawers, coffee table, and bookshelf single-handedly, none of that involves massive amounts of running water that could potentially flood my apartment and the two below me.

long story short, my landlord returned my call late last night and it was decided his father would come fix it around 10 am. (it's now 11:24...) in the meantime i've discovered the multiple ways we can continue to use our porcelain appliance while still avoiding the irritating, wasteful running water issue. i detail it in a note i left for my roommate:

Hi There--

You've got 3 choices:

1). Pretend the toilet is a chamber pot-- touch nothing (except ass to seat) use it, and i'll take care of it in the morning. Please don't poop with this option.

2). Use it like a normal:
A). Right now the water is OFF, so toilet doesn't run and waste water.
B). So, first do your business. easy.
C). Look at toilet-- down by floor on the left is a silver knob. Turn it to the left (you'll quickly hear the water start running.) Turn about 4 or 5 times or until you see white tube showing.
D). Flush toilet like normal. Wait for water in tank to refill. (Might have to help the big ball rise to top by gently pulling up on the arm it's connected to.)
E). When tank is full, go down to silver knob, turn opposite way as before until water stops running.

3). Put on your shoes. Cross street. Use Port-a-Potty. (i.e. "The Homeless Option.")

these ain't yo' gramma's cupcakes.

in honor of my cupcaking loving friend's 23rd birthday, three of us dreamed up what few women have dared to do and what shall from her on out be known as Tour de Cupcake. really, this is exactly what it sounds like.

we started off the day with a little safety session at Roscoe Village Bikes. both friends had had minor biking altercations the week prior, so instead of risking life and limb for cupcakes, one of us bought a helment, the other two filled tires, and then we rode. do you know how much easier bicycle riding is when one's tires are properly filled? good god! i was flying. effortless.

the tour commenced at southport grocery, where a round of safe favorites in the flavor of vanilla cupcakes started the sugar high. we split some solid food then rolled down to molly's cupcakes on clark. the fare included strawberry shortcake, carrot cake, and red velvet cake. the only disappointment was we couldn't sit on the swings installed inside. spirits were high, blood sugar even higher.

next stop, sweet mandy b's. we sat at the counter and watched the assembly line of baked goods. so much frosting, baking, selling, and caking i've never seen. i split a banana chocolate-chip cupcake and tried a bite of the creamsicle. both were delicious. the birthday girl struck up a conversation with this young lady and her curly curls. (imagine her turned 90 degrees.) later in the evening when coming off the high, we wished we would've asked, "hey little girl. didja momma wig ya?!"

then we fled the accumulating accusations of pedophilia. in my haste i ended up completing the bermuda triangle of biking accidents for the week. unfortunately, mine was the only one inflicted upon myself by myself. somehow in the course of attempting to use my bike peddle as a skateboard and cruise down the sidewalk, i got distracted (probably by my sugar shakes) and ran over my own foot. luckily, i avoided the large wood planter and didn't wipe out completely. i think my chuck's are a little pissed i took out part of their sole.

stop 4 was on belmont at bittersweet. european cafe style, we all split one mocha cupcake. probably the least inspired stop on the tour, their other desserts did look delicious, and i still haven't met a cupcake i won't eat.

for the grand finale we rode into bleeding heart, guns blazing and teeth gnashing.
to finish our cupcake-neutral friend got a piece of fresh strawberry pie. birthday girl got a vanilla cupcake with carmalized eggplant,cilantro,jalapeno and green curry, lemongrass frosting. woah. and i ended with one fine piece of cake-- white chocolate wasabi. this wasn't no traditional birthday party. smiles, sugar comas, and sore legs were had by all.

song and dance routine

there's been an alarming amount of coincidence in the past weeks, all of which i'm trying not to place too much value on. and thus the conundrum: ignore coincidence and it goes away. observe and appreciate, then become obsessed and make decisions based off of things like "the bird kakawed for the third time right as the light turned green and i stepped into the intersection! yes, universe, i shall quit my job today!!"

some of the more recent ones have been between my roommate and i. first we were discussing how it must really get you down to be named sarah marshall right now with the aggressive ad campaign for the movie. the next day an article introducing the sarah marshall of chicago spoke to our very concern.
tonight, when my roommate and i both started singing along to feist independently of each other, i burst out laughing when imaging if we both broke into a musical like display of song and dance. i then went back to reading this website, clicked a few times, and ended up watching this.

on love

for consideration:


not realistic, but a nice thought. but just that-- nice. its cuteness sort of destroys the idea that love exists. what really destroys it, however, is the idea that love can only exist in a place with heavy walls. in a guarded and isolated place.



and now consider this:


this is my idea of love personified-- honest, blurry, and ready to conquer with a complete disregard for pockets turned inside out. and if love doesn't look like this, then i'm not sure i want much to do with it anyway.

superconnected

some music makes me feel all dizzylikerunaroundfaststompingmyfeetwav
ingmyfistbeatingmyheadclappinghandsandthunder
andmillionsofmilesofsou
ndandbuil
d&rel
ease

here i go again

now in the person-that-must-use-vacation-days-to-travel category and after hearing my mom hint at seeing me one last time before i start a full-time job, i've decided to go home next week. i feel a little guilty or like it's excessive to make the trip, but i think it's because i'm used to only going for christmas and for summer. and although i'm embarrassed to admit it, in college i sort of prided myself on the fact that i only went home once during the year
"look at me. how strong i am! how independent and self-sufficient! how i pity you-- you there. you weak ones that go home monthly to indulge in home-cooked meals and laundry and family. what? what's that? some of you go home weekly?! oh my. oh my my. how i cringe at your inability to cope. how desperate you seem to me and my impervious fortitude!"

so now i swallow my pride and go home for the second time in four months. disgusting.

unchanging changed

it's strange to me the way places change. places that i see everyday. when i wake up every morning to the familiarity of my my bedroom, the bathroom, the view out on to school street, and yet sometimes they appear different. this appearance of change has happened all my life. i remember driving down roe avenue, in the backseat, trying to describe it to my parents one day. i was probably in middle school. they didn't understand me, and i didn't understand why they didn't understand what i was talking about. then again, i don't actually understand what the change is. it could be equated to the light change in a room-- nothing about the room as "the room" has changed but some external force acts on it, making it appear different. the metaphor doesn't really work though because light quality doesn't bring on the change. more appropriate is maybe likening it to a memory. and the more i think about it, maybe that's what it is. when i return to a place i can remember the way i saw, felt, and interpreted the place when i saw it a previous time. this leads to familiar places, like my neighborhood, sometimes feeling unfamiliar, which can be unsettling at times.
it's a strange concept-- to think of places changed when they are still the same solid building or car-lined street. or maybe it's limiting to describe "places" this way. maybe they aren't changed but just revealing different aspects at different times. is it possible that places are more than just a static entity-- that they are more complicated? or is it all tied to my perception of the place based on the projection of my feelings at the time? i would say it's more likely the latter, however, i don't experience this thing with people. maybe because there are so many variables with another person. the input from them and the very fact that they actually are changing and all the time. maybe it's impossible to gauge the change in something if it's not static.

* * *

there is a house on melrose that sticks out. it's street-facing facade is almost completely glass. obviously this makes the inside very visible to the outside. when you look in, however, all you see is white. huge white walls, cathedral ceilings all in white, white carpeted stairs, and white banisters. at first i thought it was vacant. then i noticed a large metal art-deco chandelier hanging from the ceiling. this didn't seem like evidence, though. finally, today, as i rode by i noticed two pairs of crocs by the entryway. not only were they not white but they weren't even neatly arranged. one could might even describe them as haphazardly thrown off! who are these people that live in a magazine-sterile home and then toss their comfy rubber unfashionable shoes willy-nilly on the landing for all the neighbors to see?

i have a job.

it's what's not posted that counts.

a list of things

1. broken social scene-- broken social scene.

2. today i saw a construction cone on top of a street lamp, and i believe i prefer people who find this funny/thought-provoking/poignant. maybe poignant is a stretch.

3. "But birds that are canorous and whose notes we most commend, are of little
throats, and short necks." (-- Sir Thomas Browne, Pseudodxia Epidemica)

4. genuine compliments from strangers can be creepy but also refreshing.

5. fig newtons, milk, chick peas, coffee.

the puns are killing me

my final reasoning as to why the ALA has to hire me?
they need my interminable wit and pun-making ability, which was proven last night and even with reference to the library!

reference! get it?
see, i can't be stopped!

[if you're already feeling ill, i advise you read no further.]

roommate: so you're liking that book?
me: yes. you know that conversation we had about how some books you have to read at the right time, like catcher in the rye? and how i seemed to have missed the timing on those? well, i think this is my book. i think this is the perfect time to read this book.
roommate: really? that's great. i'd like to read it when i get some time.
me: well, it is a library book.
roommate: oh... well, maybe you can loan it to me.
--sarcastic laughter--
me:nice pun.
roommate: thank you.
me: seriously though, you should check it out.
--my sarcastic laughter, followed by roommate's real laughter--
roommate: so many double meanings!

in hindsight, after spending any time at all recreating that conversation, the ALA should probably hire me as an act of charity. i really need to start a new chapter in my life.
--sarcastic laughter--

D).

D). The Telling the World of Suffering as Means of Flushing or at Least Diluting of Pain Aspect


is this why i'm back in touch with so many people?

shared bathroom behavior

two nights ago, i spent the night at my brother's house. thanks to a recent addition, their old bedroom now serves as a guest bedroom. although my nieces bed and accompanying plastic pee protector were mighty comfy, the new bed is a big improvement.

my brother is a big guy-- just over six foot and very solid with a sizable stomach. their old bathroom is horribly designed, with the shower, sink, and toilet all forming an awkward line. this means that only if a person is in the shower or seated on the toilet can anything bigger than a cat also share the space. my brother-- much larger than a cat, and while his wife is an average-sized female, that also happens to put her in the "larger than cat" category. the bathroom door swings shut, missing both the toilet seat and sink by millimeters. it seems completely unnecessary that a bathroom this size should require a lock. the mere presence of someone occupying the space is enough to keep out anyone else. standing at the sink, one literally blocks the door. while on the toilet, one could simply block the door with their foot or hand or head, as is the case with the shower.

despite this, there are great demands for privacy, which must be the reason why some idiot requested a lock be put on this door. it wasn't until i found myself in desperate need, fumbling with the door at 1 am, when i discovered there was indeed a lock on the door. said lock was also in the locked position, following that i was locked out. i relieved myself in the bathroom down the hall and went back to bed. it was with great embarrassment, however, that i admitted seven hours later to my sister-in-law that in some great display of wit, locked myself out of the bathroom. she ran to the tool box, grabbed a thingy and unclicked the push-lock.
"no worries, jay used to do this all the time."
jay, referring to my four year old nephew, who still needs help in the bathroom. as apparently, do i.

universe, you've done it again

this week was the final straw. i felt that i'd received enough "wrongs" to enter the pathetic, self-pitying stage. it is monday night, and i make a self-righteous decree that 2008 cannot possibly get any worse between heaving sobs and snotty gurgles.

now it's four days, a kleenex box, several beers, and a lot of niece/nephew hugs later. although recent events have hurt and sucked what little hope i thought i had left, what is best/worst is that i see their benefit. i mean really. who the hell did i think i was expecting i could seamlessly manage all the unexpected and terrifying thrills of graduating, moving, living, meeting, quitting, searching, applying, rejecting, committing, and accepting?

it's been months of many realizations (beyond figuring out i can rationalize my way out of a shoebox). most importantly, however, i see how blessed i am to have the friends and family that i do. it might be cliché, but it's the truth.
my poor roommate, who never knows what to expect when she walks through the door. some days i'm working busily away on my computer, donning a stylin' robe, and other days i'm who knows where. then there are the days when despite my best efforts to completely cover my sneeze, i still end up snotting on her. after spending several minutes disinfecting herself, she not only emerges from the bathroom smiling but doesn't even move to another table.
good old dad who has no idea what he's about to hear when he prompts me to, "come on, just tell me what's wrong." then endures a stream of nonsense and estrogen that he's probably still mopping off the kitchen floor in kansas.
plus all the other friends in and out of state who commiserate, ponder, and reply.

this might not be what i expected, but another thing i've realized is my expectations usually work against me. so i'm thankful for this-- whatever it is and whatever it might become-- and i do the best i can.

5:45 p.m.

today we opened the windows in our apartment.

adventure club

last week my friend told me this was going to be the week.

he was right. three important people in my life have had amazing successes this week. one appeared unexpectedly in the sun times newspaper, one got a job offer with a small law firm for this summer and then a job offer for next summer as well, and one is off to LA in two weeks to make $750/day as a film assistant.

all this good luck got me thinking about, well, luck. after turning it over, i've concluded that their isn't a ton of luck about it. all three of these guys are motivated, intelligent, and confident who know they deserve their success. while there's certainly something to be said for being in the right time at the right place, i think that's as far as luck goes. after that, one has to take a chance. there's also a certain amount of not paying the dues. i mean really... who do you owe? it's risky, but maybe passing up the shit job with the knowledge that something better is out there that you can do is, isn't so stupid.

the beginning of the week i found out i was one of three finalists for a publishing assistant job that i would love to come through. i hope next week is also "the week." my week to join the adventure club.

art institute

apparently february is the month for free museums. unless friday holds some unforeseen adventure (or disaster), i'll go to the field museum, rounding out a nice three for free.

although radically different from the shedd, the art institute was no less entertaining. there were several groups of bilingual (french-english) school groups visiting, which reaffirmed how freaking adorable french-speaking kids are. i spent the majority of time on the 2nd floor in the modern wing and loved seeing the transition from that to the european art from the early 17th and 18th centuries. as the "what is art?" discussion was bubbling in my head on my way out for the day, i observed a beautiful sight. entering the main atrium of the art institute from a small side door, a museum worker, dressed in all white, walked down the hall pushing a cart full of paint cans and brushes.

what a lovely mother you'll make

working on my computer, i heard a shout coming from the street. i looked out to see a young woman in full running gear with a medium-sized, black dog.
"FINE!" she screamed, and then threw the dog's retractable leash at it's feet.
as she stormed off down the block, the dog remained at the corner, trembling.
the woman stopped several hundred feet from the dog, put her hand on her hips, and took noticeable deep breaths. she turned and went back to the dog. snatching back the leash from the sidewalk, she jerked the dog forward.
"COME. ON!"
she took off at a nice trot with the dog limping behind her. i watched her run down the sidewalk and again jerk the dog and should "LET'S GO!"

i'm glad that humans have emotions and intelligence to separate us from the base, savage existence of animals. did you know some animal mothers even eat their babies? disgusting.

hey i was just thinking i had to pee!

the apartment complex across from ours has been under construction as long as i've been living here, and it appears for several months prior to that. as on most construction sites, there is a port-a-potty, or more specific to this particular model a "JOHN SPOT" behind the building. it's seafoam plastic walls are visible from any of our apartment's street-side windows, and looking closely, you can even spy whether the lock is on red or green, signaling whether it is in use or not.

i have now spent many an unemployed day sitting on the couch working on my computer, occasionally glancing out the window. i've seen many runners, workmen, dogwalkers, and other roscoe villagites, but never have i seen anyone use that portable plastic potty.

then on this lovely saturday morning as i sat drinking my coffee, i watched a fifty-something woman with plastic grocery bags in hand approach the JOHN SPOT.

--gasp--

would the transportable toliet finally get use?
with just a moment's hesitation-- enough perhaps to process the thought, "i was just thinking i could use a restroom"-- the woman set down her plastic sacs, opened the door, and switched the lock.
the audience erupted with jubilation!
someone has finally used the school street shitter!

of fin and feather

a few days ago i cracked the reader to find an ad for the shedd aquarium, which was announcing free admission to the general aquarium all this week. having only gone to the contemporary art museum since moving to chicago, i decided this was the perfect chance for me to visit the fishes.

i rode the train to the library stop, and walked along the lake for the rest of my trip. it was beautiful to see the skyline from the other side and watch the ice grumble on lake michigan. it was also fucking freezing and probably the beginning of what i'm diagnosing as "cold lung", which has allowed me to impersonate Daniel Plainview quite accurately, according to my roommate. ("i drink your milkshake!")

anyway, i spent several hours observing the various fish, eels, lizards, frogs, birds, and snakes. it was pretty awesome, and i feel like they have a larger variety of animals than when i was last there. i'd forgotten how wonderful it is to walk through a museum by yourself with an ipod drowning out all the screaming kids and helpless parents. or helpless kids and screaming parents.

despite the free admission applying to the general aquarium only, i somehow found myself in the oceanarium. i watched the beluga whales and penguins do their thing for awhile, and then realized i was just in time for the last dolphin show of the day. i also noticed i was the only person seated in the audience not wearing a yellow wristband. whoops.

the show focused on the dolphin's training. while interesting, the best part was when the narrator pointed out that the island in the middle of the pool had another animal in training. sure enough, there was a large owl camouflaged against the island's brown rock staring or ignoring us. apparently, he was out there training to be part of the bird show. (i wasn't aware they had owls at the shedd. apparently they aren't either.) he was adapting to the dolphin's different environment, as well as the crowd's loud reaction and applause. the rest of the show, i was more focused on watching the owl than the dolphins. other than turning his head from side to side, he seemed perfectly content to not give a damn about any of what he seemed to consider "fowl play" going on around him. (i could only resist one pun in that sentence.) that is until the show's finale. in a spectacular display of strength and intelligence, all four dolphins breached the water in unison and continued to breach five times. at this point the owl was repeatedly splashed with a few drops of water, but he beat his wings and shook his body and looked totally disgusted by these idiot creatures turning tricks in front of him. it was absolutely the most hilarious real-life animal interaction i have seen in a long time. really, just the sight of a real owl and real dolphins in the same environment-- pretty funny.

the day the music died

it ended as quickly as it began.

before i knew what had happened i was at the people's church on 941 w. lawrence, violin in hand. actually, that's a lie. i knew exactly what was going on, and i had willingly and gladly submitted myself. i was attending my first rehearsal for the lakeside.pride.orchestra. and yes, it does stand for THAT kind of pride. the kind of pride, as my mom so eloquently put it, "that you see in san fransico-- all the gays marching together." great, mom. i know you're 1. terrified that playing in a orchestra open to all sexual orientations will turn me into a raging lesbian and 2. that i will move to san fran, tune up, and start marching with them. well, no fear mom. i'm pretty sure i'm straight as susie high school, and i've never seen a violin in the marching band.

despite this, i have to admit the jokes about going to play in the gay orchestra never get old.

after attending my first rehearsal, i was thrilled i'd chosen to go. everyone was accepting and the level of play was right at where i'd hoped. plus, because everyone is fairly talented, the rehearsal was low-key and relaxed but still productive and satisfying.

after my first rehearsal we took two weeks of for various reasons. i returned for my 2nd rehearsal a few days ago, only to find i was being asked to turn in my music. i panicked.
have you changed your mind?
are you rejecting me because i'm straight!?
no, turns out we have no violas or cellos. it's hard to have an orchestra with no lower string section. so the gay orchestra is taking a bit of a break. hopefully only to return stronger and prouder than ever before this spring.

now THAT'S a rejection letter

Dear Katharine;

Thank you for sending us your resume in response to the Program Assistant
position at UG. After carefully reviewing your resume, our
selection committee has determined that your background and skills, while
impressive, are not a good fit at this time. Therefore, we cannot consider
your application further.

We wish you the best of luck in securing a position appropriate to your
credentials.

Sincerely,
UG


now that is how to appropriately and professionally reject someone. i might still be unemployed, but them recognizing that i have an "impressive" background and skills is going to keep me going all week. or at least until lunch.

who knew having fun was so painful?

this past weekend the whole family packed up their various vehicles (two prius, one golden goose of a mini-van, and one dodge something a-ruther) with food stuffs, board/video games, DVDs, and swimming suits, for a weekend trip to starved rock state park in utica, il. with 13 of us, it is true that we go through a lot of food, but once we were moved in i'm pretty sure the kitchen was stocked not for the wintry weekend, but for a nuclear winter. in double checking that milk, bagels, italian beef, veggies, juice boxes, etc. were all accounted for, my sister-in-law quickly realized upon arrival that she had forgotten one small item-- the kids' suitcase filled with all of their clothes and swimming suits. not the best start.
while she drove off for a shopping spree at the nearby wal-mart, the rest of the family went to the amusement park. while the cabin we were staying at (large enough to comfortably fit all 13 of us) is located in the middle of the woods, the "resort" also has a small, indoor amusement park and water park. the amusement park was more carnival-esque as it had dozens of arcade games, 6 kiddy rides, and 4 adult rides. after doing some of the kid's rides, four of the adults decided to take on what looked to be the most aggressive ride in the place.
the eclipse is one of those spinning rides and turned out to be the most intense ride i've ever been on like that. Gs like i've never felt were revolving my body in a way i never want to feel again. my brother's groans of "dear god, please let me off" were at first hilarious then echoed after my body was tired of being whipped around in the seat. all four of us, walked limply from the ride, surprised to still be alive. i was sure i had brain damage, and my brother was sure he was going to yak. although i think i avoided brain damage, i did wake up the next morning to find a nice bruise coming in on my inner thigh where i was slammed into the formed plastic seat. let me tell you, nothing is sexier than walking around in a swimming suit with large bruises on your inner thigh. it pretty much screams, "do me!"
the next day the family ventured out for a little nature hike. turns out six kids ranging from 3 - 11 years old isn't ideal when walking on hilly, icy terrain with steep edges and few guard rails. instead, however, we did manage to ignore the "stay on path" signs and search out several animal prints that were left in the snow. although i quit the girl scouts before even making it past "brownies", i did find it fairly amusing to see very tiny mouse prints followed by much larger paw prints of what seemed to be some large cat looking for lunch.
the weekend also saw some intense sledding. behind our cabin was a pond with some great hills encircling it. my brother proclaimed the pond solid enough to sled onto, so the six kids, my brothers, and i went at it. i haven't been sledding in years and it was a blast. unfortunately i literally did blast one of my nieces as i uncontrollably barreled down the hill. having just regained her balanced, i came in right at her ankles, and flipped her right back onto her back. luckily, i turned to see her laughing rather than bawling. her cousin also did a spectacular face dive as his mini-sized snowboard hit a patch of snow and stuck, leaving him flying head over heels and face first into the snow. thank god his head and neck were there to stop his body. or really, thank god his mom wasn't there.
who knew having fun was so painful?

suck it, hallmark.

i've never been a fan of valentine's day. admittedly, a big part of that is because i've never had a valentine or a significant other to share it with. despite this, i usually spend it with friends eating chocolate and watching sappy movies. this is fun, but something you can do without the excuse of a holiday, so really i've never been a fan of valentine's day. not to mention the hallmark factor.

up until this year, my favorite valentine's day was spent with my old college roommate. that afternoon we both donated blood. i proceeded to pass out almost immediately after sitting down at the cookie table. she had to run to work, and while she felt okay at the beginning, she ended up throwing up at work and coming home early. we both took long naps, and then went to a girlfriend's house that night. there, we each drank our own bottle of boone's, ate chocolate fondue, and watched 13 going on 30. simply magical.

last night, however, i spent an entire afternoon making the best valentine's of my life with a good friend. i ate a box of whoppers and drank a cup of coffee, which i always find is the best way to get the creative juices flowing. i made a dozen awesome cards that will be finding their way to friends all over the country. these cards are not only made with much love and care but also include some fantastic puns, cut-out hearts, and even glitter. it doesn't get better than that. wait. it does. order a pizza, drink a few beers, and listen to broken social scene. now that's a perfect valentine's day. who the hell cares if it was on february 11th?

tutoring and teeth

within five minutes of sitting down with my student, a first-grade girl, to read a book, the following conversation ensues:

"alright kimberly, what book do you want to read today?"
"let me see your teeth?"
"what?"
"show me your teeth. go... ike deeeez."
"okay. cheeeeeese."
"you have dirty teeth. you don't brush your teeth."
"what? yes i do!"
"let me see again."
"cheeeese."
"no you don't. you have brown spots. you don't brush you teeth."
"yes i do, kimberly! i brush twice a day!"
"then why are you teeth dirty if you brush your teeth?"
"look little girl. i don't know why, but i have excellent oral hygiene, okay! i brush twice a day, and i floss. maybe once you grow up and get braces when you're in college and then start drinking coffee and tea, you'll realize how hard it is to keep you teeth completely white! now... let's get back to picking a book."
"okay. . . but you're teeth are still dirty."

826CHI

for a few weeks now, i've been volunteering at a writing center. my initial impetus for starting was less altruistic and more get me the hell out of my apartment. i came across the center via dave egger's bio on the america's non-required reading 2008. seemed just random enough to work. like with all things recently, i kept my expectations just above existent and it turned out as a perfect fit.

after a short group interview, involving an enormous coincidence featuring a friend of a friend of a friend and a pair of skeleton gloves, i was told i could start volunteering when i wished. with a fairly free schedule and experience in tutoring, i decided to go in for the after school program. kids 6 - 18 are welcome for homework help and encouraged to write, draw, create...

my first day was a thursday, when 40 sugar-high elementary and middle schoolers paraded into the room scattered with 6 volunteers. it was a bit intense, and i felt like volunteering was going to be a little less enjoyable than anticipated. my next time, however, the kids were fewer and calmer, and i was also more at ease with the situation. now, after my third time, i'm loving it. the kids are wonderful and while a little rambunctious have a great sense of humor. unlike some kids, they seem to have this real hunger for learning. after suggesting to one boy that we draw i was shocked when he not only took me up on the offer, but didn't run away screaming when i took the encyclopedia off the shelf. rather than playing a board game we looked up wacky animals, drew outlines for each other, and then colored them in. there's also been a fair amount of playing the board game trouble and some chompy making.

more than anything, it's nice to get a different perspective on the chicago community and learn about other people's-- even small people's-- lifestyles.
another big plus, they have a spy store that funds the writing center behind. in said store, they sell fake mustaches! i can't wait to get one. i think i'll go for a hercule peroit look.

the organic and just scam

after much contemplation, personal experience, and discussion, i've reached the conclusion that whole foods and american apparel are in cahoots. yes, shocking, i know. how could i accuse such organic and just stores of scamming the innocent shopper? both with the perfect cover-- one providing fresh, organic and the nothing but the healthiest food. the other, providing sweat-free, fairly paid clothing-- i'm sure they're scamming someone somewhere. haven't worked out all the details, but i have worked out this much:

first the matter of expense. last time i checked 4.50 for a half gallon of milk is a little pricey, as is 25 for a cotton tshirt with no sewn neckline disguised as "dress" due to it's long, shapeless nature. even if it is their mission to compensate fairly for their products, i'm sure they must be skimming a few bucks off the top along the way.

second, there is a matter of hip. american apparel. oh the love-hate relationship we've developed. how a tshirt could ever be so hip is beyond me. but really. don't you think some of those colors should be returned to the 80s? and, of course, the obvious hypocrisy of having socially just clothing that you in turn display on half-naked (that's generous) womens' bodies. i have yet to see a man's right buttock peeping out from a magazine's page, and yet how much female goddamn female butt do i have to stare at every time i walk down milwaukee?! and if anyone tries to argue that "at least their models have an eclectic, diverse look that clearly represents every woman" so help me god from strangling you with one of those skinny scarves. [note: one more use for those scarves-- noose.] representing women would be making clothes that allow for breasts and hips to fit into them.
and as hip dresses, hip must eat. have you ever stood outside a whole foods on say a saturday afternoon? check out the long line of fixed gears chained to the racks. this isn't your grandmother's grocery store. if you're not perusing the aisles in skinny jeans with the pant leg rolled up, hauling your own shoppings bags (because they ask paper or plastic, but they don't like it. and regardless of your choice-- it is wrong.) then you might as well get in your gaz guzzling SUV, pull into dominick's, and buy twice the groceries with the same amount of cash you probably earned while selling the bloody tears of mongolian children. unless...
unless you're a snotty-nosed mother hauling 3 snot-nosed kids along behind you, and in your infinite wisdom trying to fill trays for each child from the salad bar at noon on sunday. then, it is perfectly acceptable to wear that down north face coat and those ugg boots and push others aside like knock-off coach purses. [my personal theory is that the hipsters are afraid of these sorority sisters grown old, and the two groups have silently agree that if no eye contact is made and no words exchanged, then both might coexist at this organic watering hole.]

be all that as it may, i will most likely continue to frequent both places. american apparel has the most amazing wealth of color i've ever set eyes upon. before entering, my eyes widen in anticipation of the immediate electric shock of dye and hue on which they're about to OD. and while at all other stores i'll wear a small or medium, i will continue to reach for the large or x-large dresses, tights, and shirts because i know they'll last.
similarly, i'll continue spending a meager 8 or 15 at whole foods for delicious, fresh oranges and organic fig bars. (i know, i know. i cringe even typing it. there really is a huge difference, though. with the fig bars that is. with the rest of that organic crap, i'm not so sure.)

which brings us to the third point, as well as full circle. the reason no one questions either company is because they're right. (the companies not the non-questioners.) whole foods and american apparel make good quality products for a reasonably fair price that stand up to time and taste. but do they really have to be such goddamnfucking snobs about it!?
and i refuse to drop suspicion that there isn't some sort of shenanigans going on between them!

LTLYM #53

hello, tiny one.

right now you're gregarious, eager, and extroverted. you maybe talk too much for your own good, but that is okay. you tell stories without cease, but they're funny so people don't mind. you're aggressive and competitive, sometimes even a poor loser. you're precocious and talented and mature way beyond your years. you might have good style, but right now it's completely off your radar as are boys and being cool.

in a few years, this is all going to change but you shouldn't let it. you'll always know you're smart, competent, independent, mature, funny, loving, and compassionate, but for many years you'll start valuing other's opinion more highly than your own when it comes to judging yourself. it will cause a whole mess of confusion and self-questioning, not to mention several hellish months when you allow a guy to take advantage of your vulnerability and insecurities. maybe it's better to tell all those people to fuck off-- not really heavily consider their opinion on you. of course, it's always good to listen to what people have to say, but if you don't agree then disregard it. in the end, you be able to change what they really think of you anyway.


you are the future.

snow barf

this is the 4th snowiest winter out of the past 25 in chicago. that means it has snowed more in these past few months than i have ever seen in my life. and indeed, it is supposed to snow yet again tonight, producing about 8" of snow by tomorrow evening.

sometimes, the snow is good. for instance, you get snowed in and get to spend the night. next day, still snowed in. snow day! brunch! nice.

sometimes, the snow is bad. for instance, you get snowed in and can't drive to evanston for a lunch that might help you get a job.

sometimes, the snow is neutral. it just kind of hangs out and gets on your shoes, but no one really takes offense.

also, sometimes the snow inspires really bad blogs that read like barf. let's hope that never happens again.

thank you, mr. sufjan

for once again reminding me to appreciate the poetry of everyday life.

the breakup

Dear Katharine:

Thank you for your interest in the Secretary (1) position at DePaul University. We have reviewed your resume, carefully considered your qualifications, and have decided to pursue other applicants for the position who more closely match our job requirements.


wait. i thought i was just applying for a job!
i didn't realize i was also involved in a serious relationship.
and now you're telling me that not only was i in a relationship, but it's over between us?!
shit. had i known, i would've at least tried to get some free meals out of you.
thank you, though, for leaving the personalized fields in bold-face so as to remove any question about whether this is a canned email or not.

you send the same one to all of us, don't you?!
well, we're not whores! we deserve some respect!
i didn't even know we had something going. if i had, i probably would've put out.
maybe that could've been different.
alas, farewell.

FWD: this

i received a forwarded email from my parents regarding the apparent removal of the Holocaust from U.K. curriculum because it offended certain Muslims who claim it never happened. the email's author stated what an atrocity this was. one of the forwarders wrote this was an instance of PC going haywire. well, turns out upon further investigation, this pertains to one school way up North (out of 4500 schools in the U.K.) also, it wasn't removed from nation-wide required curriculum, but instead from an elective class one might take to obtain a specific degree that about 1/3 of U.K. students go for. thus, the number of students actually affected by this is, well, not too many. there were some other inaccuracies in the email, but that was the main one.
(oh, also. and this might be the best part. this email got into someones hands who didn't know that U.K. stood for United Kingdom and thus started another completely false email about how the University of Kentucky was removing the Holocaust from its curriculum.)

so really, this seems to be a case of not believing everything you read. or at least, being a little more critical. i'm guilty of this-- i know i agree with and accept certain information without questioning it much more than i should. in the case, however, it's quite ironic that the mission of this forwarded email was so people would never forget the Holocaust happened. to me, it seems one reason the Holocaust happened was because citizens went unquestioning and accepted the media and propaganda without digging deeper... which brings up one more cliché saying, something about the road to hell being paved with good intentions...

this instance along with watching fight club and being unemployed all stewed into a realization that freedom can end up being imprisonment. like all opposites sides of the spectrum, it's really more accurate to take those opposite ends and connect them so you have a circle where the two "extremes" are actually right next to each other. if you're free to do anything it can be so overwhelming you end up doing nothing. if you have no limits it can be more limiting than having certain restrictions. see everything from prisoners of Auschwitz being released to writing a term paper with no prompt.

today i got the shivers from a beautiful, simple song. i sang and hum. i played a guitar and made mistakes. i practiced scales forwards and backwards. i wrote an old friend and smiled at memories older than my nephew who drew a sun i photographed.

today i woke up breathing. i chewed, swallowed, and digested. i bled and cleaned myself. i washed and rolled my hair and cut my fingernails. i thought and rethought and talked about those thoughts with another person. i admitted faults and received compliments. i said thank you.

today i planned for my future. i stated my abilities. i sent letters and waited for responses. i thought about what i want to be when i grow up. i dreamed a little while waking and remembered the dream i had while sleeping. i told myself it was okay.

today i worried and rationalized. i fretted and moisturized. i plugged in and tuned out. i laughed.

today i thought about yesterday. today i thought about tomorrow.

LTLYM #44

today i got the shivers from a beautiful, simple song. i sang and hummed. i played a guitar and made mistakes. i practiced scales forwards and backwards. i wrote an old friend and smiled at memories older than my nephew who drew a sun i photographed.

today i woke up breathing. i chewed, swallowed, and digested. i bled and cleaned myself. i washed and rolled my hair and cut my fingernails. i thought and rethought and talked about those thoughts with another person. i admitted faults and received compliments. i said thank you.

today i planned for my future. i stated my abilities. i sent letters and waited for responses. i thought about what i want to be when i grow up, and i dreamed a little while waking and remembered the dream i had while sleeping. i told myself it was okay.

today i worried and rationalized. i fretted and moisturized. i plugged in and tuned out. i laughed. i observed beauty and felt calmed.

today i thought about yesterday. today i thought about tomorrow.

impromptu show

yesterday afternoon i received a cryptic voice mail from a friend who was, "coming to chicago for a great concert." no date, no time, no mention of the band. curious.

and indeed, later that day, after arriving at metro for an 8pm show with the lovely band cornelius, the whole experience was curious. there are few people who could convince me to pay $18 to see a band i've never listened to before, but this friend comes with particularly good taste in music. this is how i was whisked off my feet and into the world of wonder created by four, forty-something japanese music machines. they played for over an hour and a half, and, as promised by their intro, it was a sensuous synchronized show. i guess it's just because they're that good that they synced every songs with the ever-present videos playing behind them. i only experienced one time when it was a bit off and it wasn't for more than a few seconds. who knows, i could've been off. their videos, like their music, have an incredible range of style and substance. one second it looks like old-school claymation, the next it's super-sleek primary colors. not like any rock n' roll show, i've ever seen. more like a very long, very good performance piece that doesn't reek of pretension and piss. plus, i learned about and watched this instrument be played. look, ma. no hands!

lesson learned? once again, it's okay to interrupt the locally programmed schedule to do something i am unsure of. this impromptu show (the going to, not the show. i'm sure metro had planned on the show for quite sometime.) was well worth it.

and all the people said, amen.

hair down, glasses off

they say good habits take three weeks to form.* for that reason, i've been attempting to write (and smoke crack) on a daily basis. with that goal in mind, i make it about every other day, but that's fine for me. especially since this is only for me. that's right. no one else in the entire universe knows that i'm keeping this blog, and that secrecy is incredibly seductive. i was going to forgo writing tonight because my eyes hurt, but instead, i'll just write with my eyes closed. starting NOW. and since no one is reading this, no one can complain about typos.

i had hoped to refrain from writing about the writing-- meta writing? some word from college i've forgotten. i think it's annoying and worthless to say at the beggining of a blog, "this is a new start, and hopefully i'll be able to keep this one... blahblahblah." if you already have some failed starts, chances are this one ain't going to be no different.

so katharine, please forgive, but i'm going to go on for just a short bit, just this once about why i love keeping this.
you're forgiven, katharine.
awesome. thank you, katharine.

i like that in order to access this page you enter http://WITHNOWWW. isn't that neat? it's like it'se ven MORE hidden than other websites. it's like there's not even a chance someone could mistype an internet address and come here. it really is hidden in the depths of the interweb.

along those lines, i also love the fact that the address is something i invented. again, not likely someone will stumble across it, and if they do it's pretty hard unlikely they'll no who i am.

i also like the fact that, unlike keeping a paper journal, this comes out looking somewhat finished. it contains an illusion of publication, and although i don't have great aspirations for that, it does have a certain established feel. plus, it's nice to see progress.

i enjoy changing the settings. and the template. simple minds enjoy simple pleasures. it's true.

i like the chance that someone miles and oceans away might come across this and read it, and i'll never know. and that might affect something else i'll never know about and so on and so forth. because that's life. all the things we do that we never see the results of.

and finally, i like that i can write with eyes closed or open.









*invented statistic

PMS

it's undeniable. there are indeed differences between men and women. of course, some differences have been played up, even invented, to prevent one sex from doing one thing [to one another] at one time [or another] BUT disparities do exists. in light of the fact that i'm now on the first of seven tiny green pills, indicating that lovely time of the month has now arrived. it all comes down to menstruating.

i can't even spell the word without help of a dictionary, illustrating (can spell that one on my own) just how fucking sneaky the whole thing is. a simple inner-body alarm to signal the day before the floodgate release would avoid some hassle, even embarrassment-- no stained jeans, no surprised lovers. really though. our body signals when hungry, when tired, when thirsty, why not when about to menstruate? this would be logical, but nothing about the period is logical. the name itself suggests that it's the end, so everyone might as well just pack up and go to hell because mommy's going to be a bitch for the next several days.

in a perfect world only women who wanted to bear children would have their period. the men enlist in army and the women enlist in menstruation. these are prices we pay for the future generations.

before writing this, i had a clear idea of where this was going. there was a cogent conclusion, but due to extreme hormonal fluctuation i'm left clueless as to where it was going. maybe i was going to conclude by listing all the other things about being on one's period:
-lower back pain either accompanied or brought on my severe cramping that incites a desire to carve out the uterus and ovaries
-bloating. no one likes feeling like a two ton pregnant hippo.
-food cravings ranging from strange combinations like peanut butter and bacon sandwiches to rich baked goods like a brownie. covered with dark chocolate ganache. and peanut butter. with nuts. and milk chocolate chips. and vanilla ice cream. with whipped cream. and chocolate sauce. please.
-irritability, impatience, melancholy, mood swings. one second the world is a diaphanous, fragile flower blooming for your olfactory pleasure and then next it's a rotting hell hole.
-some females might, from time to time, experience slight cases of melodramatics. although this is extremely rare and could be due to sheer coincidence.

anyway, i think this started because of differences in men and women boiling down to menstruation. it's a sneaky and savage beast that changes our delicate body and soundness of mind. even years after the well has run dry, the gentle sex is still scarred by the ravages of such a primitive curse. and therein lies the inherent difference in the sexes.

curvilinear landscapes

low is -1
veins tremble inside
rice paper leaves
mistakes made
sacrifices offered
low is nearing 0

Today's Letter is Mr. C

Good morning, class. Today I would like to introduce you to a new letter-- Mr. C. He is a calm, cautious, and concerned man. Careful, however, because he is also chameleon-like. Sometimes sounding like an "s", at others he will confound kids by his "k"- like clicking. For this reason, he can add a certain confusion to spelling. He enjoys coincidences, contradiction, and the seas of change.

mr. c and i have seem to have similar interests. for instance, i also greatly enjoy coincidence. yesterday, while walking around blockbuster, i heard a familiar song. when i looked at the tv screen i saw the only few minutes of Once i've been shown. when we watched Waitress, the movie we rented, there was the trailer for Once.
this serves as good segue into our next shared interest-- contradiction. i watched Waitress and decided it was possibly the worst movie i'd seen in a while. The next day I saw There will be blood, which is possibly the best movie i've seen in a while.
usually, no matter how good or bad a piece of film/art/written work, i have both some positive and negative comments. this i'm hard pressed to think of many (any?) criticisms of There will be blood. intense yet realistic and varied in emotion-- some glimmers of hope and laughs but all diminished against this hugely dark and raging devil character. the shots of sweeping landscape and then close-ups mirror the plot, which focuses acutely on daniel plainview but also gives a greater sense for the oil rush and those times, but could be pulled even further back to those oh so lovely timeless and universal themes of greed, power, and revenge. all the visual aspects are solidified by a stunning soundtrack that propels certain scenes forward and arrests others in a crazy suspense.
also, it's really refreshing to see a great movie with someone and then have an engaging conversation about it together. [part of the seas of change, perhaps.]

and if the beginning of the post really had you thinking you were going to meet Mr. C, well then this one's for you.

alone together

the transition from solitude to companionship and back again has been difficult for me to get my head around since moving to chicago. in many ways, i consider myself an introvert- perfectly content to spend several hours (or even days) alone. mainly, i think this is because i can easily occupy my time. there's always something to read, play, make, watch, or write about. i think it also stems from my disinclination for simultaneity. that's another post though.
but in a new city without a huge social group, this tendency towards shyness tends to manifest more as loneliness than solitude. and although i disagree with a quote i remember in the FYI about how loneliness was a cup of black coffee while solitude was a cup of green tea, there certainly is a big difference between the two.
in general, i think i've excelled at both in the past months. i've jumped at (or collided into) the chance of meeting new people while keeping up old friendships from high school and college, even when i didn't feel like making the effort. at the same time, i've occupied my unemployed hours with valid and interesting pursuits.
so it's not one or the other that's a problem, but switching between the two. i'll be so content working away by myself and get irritated when i'm interrupted by the same company that two days later i'll be thrilled to see or missing. or, i'll be looking forward to going out and it falls through and that's extremely disappointing whereas the day before it might've been a relief to not have to brave the cold.
does this mean i'm extremely finicky? or hormonal? or diffident? i really thought i was over that last one...

l'inspiration grâce à la science des rêves

today i am collecting beautiful thoughts:

brown paint peeling to reveal the wood's graining on the garage door
the crying sun seen with the first light of grey morning
leaves shuddering in winter wind
first chords of what will become a favorite song as heard for the first time
steady beat of certainty and the wonderful dissonance of surprise
asymmetry on display
an owl eating birthday cake
dried hydrangea spared by the workman's boot
honest efforts
aligned fingerprints and prints of aligned fingers
equations derived from living
7/4 (shoreline)
whispers carried through thin hairs
simultaneous realization bridging the distance of two people

green tea

since getting a starbuck's gift card for christmas, i've been frequenting their innumerable establishments a couple times a week to hunt jobs. usually, i go to the one on roscoe, but seeking a change of scenery and a walk, i decided to go to paulina instead. i ordered a medium green tea and received my beverage in an efficient and pleasant manner. (as i later told the survey, from which i hope to win 1,000 'bucks. now that i think of it, i hope this is 1,000 dollars and not indeed 1,000 starbucks drinks or 1,000 starbucks locations.) it was then that i realized that the fine barista on roscoe had been giving me large teas both times when i asked for mediums. perhaps, he also thinks it's ridiculous to pay $2.02 for hot water and two tea bags or maybe he's just extending a small generosity. his gesture isn't earth-shaking. in fact, had i not gone somewhere else i, most likely, would've never realized. so i wonder how often small, kind acts go unnoticed. maybe as much as the malicious ones go noticed?



"We help each other and use kind words"
Tucson, Arizona
Taj Forer

parked cars

after getting up this morning, i gathered a sizable amount of recyclables and walked them over to the lucky people of cornelia street. then i picked up the paper, made some tea, got breakfast, and settled into the overstuffed chair to read the news on laptop. looking out the window, i noticed how all the street parking visible from my window (about 30 cars worth) was available.
what in the world?
ooooooooh, those people must be at WORK.
hmm...

this realization immediately rendered me ineffective the rest of the day. well, not really. but imaging all those cars now parked downtown in garages, or at metra stops, or out in some suburb while their owners busied their days away with real world work made me feel pretty worthless.

my day continued as i made lunch, finished laundry, applied for a job, returned and wrote multiple emails, talked to both parents, met a friend, exchanged a shirt, planned for a wedding, searched for more jobs at the coffee shop, made dinner, did the crossword, reviewed the periodic table, practiced the guitar... not a total waste. in fact, i did a lot of things. since i enjoyed them, however, it didn't feel much like work; thus it didn't feel too productive.

in french the verb to work is travailler. i believe the word originated from latin and was something like triaplis or maybe tripalium? regardless, in that form the verb meant to torture. it then evolved from torture to toil and then into the present form of to work. so is there some innate sense that in order to feel productive or that work is being accomplished that, by definition, it must be painful?
maybe only if you're latin.

anyway, while i have all this free time on my hands i'm going to do what i damn well please and feel good about the fact i'm accomplishing all those things i'd do "if only i had more time..." that, and i'm going to watch all those suckers try and find parking spaces when 6:00pm rolls around.

oh, and if you are also in need of a refresher on the periodic table, check it.

cure for the common cold

there's a lot of speculation out there on the cure for the common cold. in reality, they aren't "cures" because the common cold still exists. they are more matronly suggestions on how to weather the bug caught while "burning the candle at both ends. (thanks mom.) these suggestions usually include: getting lots of rest, taking it easy (i.e. staying in pj's all day watching tv), and drinking lots of liquids.

i don't buy it. first, getting lots of rest is fine. i'm a big proponent of sleep and power naps are right up there with cereal on my list, but it's the combination of "getting lots of rest" and "taking it easy" that's problematic. it's a cold. not the stomach flu, not an inner ear infection, not the bubonic plague. yeah, it might feel kind of crummy but wallowing in self-pity and snot rags isn't going to improve things. get up, take a shower, and do something. i don't advise binge drinking or marathon running but maybe some light laundry? or cooking? who knows, you might even forget your under the weather and get something accomplished.

so second, there's this issue of drinking lots of liquids. again, on the surface, seems like wise advice. especially, if there's hard, green mucus impeding oxygen to the brain. best to loosen that up. but thick, off-color snot is often a sign of infection, which might mean that something more serious than the common cold. so back to the normal-snotted situations of the cold. in these cases, one is told to drink liquids but NOT milk.
what?!
not milk.
why?!
because it increases mucus production.
look. milk is delicious and often drank with delicious baked goods, which i'm almost positive will offset any milky side affects. no one is thinking about their cold when eating banana bread or oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. and if you are, you're very ill and i advice you to go immediately to the ER.

these are my thoughts on the common cold-- take them or leave them and feel better soon.

if interested in other thoughts i've had today, you can go to other thoughts i've had today.