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.