And just like that, I'm back in the middle of a snowstorm in Chicago.
The weirdest thing I saw in my travels was a lady at the airport in Chicago who was wearing a fur coat. She was in the baggage claim area and pushing one of those luggage carts that was empty except for another fur coat. I ask you, who travels with only the fur coat on her back with her other fur coat as a carry-on?
Despite the abundance of fur coats, it does feel good to be back in Chi-city. Today, I was riding the Red Line train past Wrigley Field. I realized that I must've been homesick, since a fugly-ass billboard of a giant Chicago hot dog shoved into a baseball glove made me bust into a smile. And that's not normal. But I'll take it.
This week is filled with parties and meet-ups with friends and Mr. D. I'll do some Christmas window shopping and wandering around the city during the day. Have brunch with my brother tomorrow and maybe read some books. Tomorrow night is a carolling party with festive cider-rum. Oh, it's good to be home!
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Gift Baskets Are Creepy
So I did some Christmas-y errands today, and part of those errands was looking for a Christmas present for my mom. She grew up in North Carolina, so I thought I might go with the theme for her present this year. I looked at some Southern cookbooks, which were lovely, but she already has more cookbooks than she needs for her entire lifetime.
So my next thought was to go straight to the source: a huge gourmet grocery store that is based in North Carolina. This store, coincidentally, specializes in those gift baskets that people give out during the holidays. So I tried to unearth some NC treasures at this store, but I got temporary blindsided by the overwhelming creepiness of all the types of Christmas gift baskets. The gobs of crinkled plastic. The tins of nasty cashews. The impersonal chocolate bars. The jars of muscadine preserves. Why are pre-made gift baskets filled with the most inedible materials ever created?
So then I thought that I might make my own basket of hand-selected foods from North Carolina. Much more personal, much less plastic. Let's see...North Carolina tea leaves for sweet tea, um, some Cackalacky hot sauce, um... North Carolina Cheese Straws?!? Ick! Nevermind, that's back to creepy. Do y'all sell T-shirts?
So my next thought was to go straight to the source: a huge gourmet grocery store that is based in North Carolina. This store, coincidentally, specializes in those gift baskets that people give out during the holidays. So I tried to unearth some NC treasures at this store, but I got temporary blindsided by the overwhelming creepiness of all the types of Christmas gift baskets. The gobs of crinkled plastic. The tins of nasty cashews. The impersonal chocolate bars. The jars of muscadine preserves. Why are pre-made gift baskets filled with the most inedible materials ever created?
So then I thought that I might make my own basket of hand-selected foods from North Carolina. Much more personal, much less plastic. Let's see...North Carolina tea leaves for sweet tea, um, some Cackalacky hot sauce, um... North Carolina Cheese Straws?!? Ick! Nevermind, that's back to creepy. Do y'all sell T-shirts?
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Odds and Ends from NC
Today I walked over to the university arboretum and spread out a blanket by a big old North Carolina tree. It was in the 70s, and though it was unseasonably warm, I savored an afternoon of the slow pace of life down here that everyone talks about. I sat in the sun and read some back issues of the New Yorker, soaking up months of culture that I had missed when my reading list was solely based on urban planning. Yep, three of four classes are now done for the semester.
After a few hours of reading, I drove over to a local coffee shop where I sort-of avoided getting hit on by some 60-year-old dude who was wearing some kind of cyclist windbreaker unzipped so that his gray chest hair poked out of it. He made conversation with me about the beautiful looking fruit tarts:
Him: Are you going to have a tart?
Me: Nope. (Pause) Just coffee.
Him: Oh! Good discipline. I really have motivation not to eat one either.
Me: Uh, yeah.
Him: I just had two apples and a piece of cheese for lunch.
Me: (Silence)
After that, I came home and watched some old videos on YouTube. Josephine Baker, Russian Ballet from the 70s, the new exhibit of Kara Walker's art at the Whitney in New York. You can really find anything you want to see on there. I guess it goes to show that I can only complain to a degree about being culturally isolated down here. To the degree of a 2" x 3" online video of about 5 minutes in length on almost any cultural topic in the world.
Also, I went to the "Short Circuit Traveling Film Festival" last week. It was a series of short films made by filmmakers of the Southeast US and it was really fun. My favorite short was called "The Language of Limbs: A Documentary on the Agrifolk Art Movement." It was hilarious and clever and southern. You can view a portion of it here.
After a few hours of reading, I drove over to a local coffee shop where I sort-of avoided getting hit on by some 60-year-old dude who was wearing some kind of cyclist windbreaker unzipped so that his gray chest hair poked out of it. He made conversation with me about the beautiful looking fruit tarts:
Him: Are you going to have a tart?
Me: Nope. (Pause) Just coffee.
Him: Oh! Good discipline. I really have motivation not to eat one either.
Me: Uh, yeah.
Him: I just had two apples and a piece of cheese for lunch.
Me: (Silence)
After that, I came home and watched some old videos on YouTube. Josephine Baker, Russian Ballet from the 70s, the new exhibit of Kara Walker's art at the Whitney in New York. You can really find anything you want to see on there. I guess it goes to show that I can only complain to a degree about being culturally isolated down here. To the degree of a 2" x 3" online video of about 5 minutes in length on almost any cultural topic in the world.
Also, I went to the "Short Circuit Traveling Film Festival" last week. It was a series of short films made by filmmakers of the Southeast US and it was really fun. My favorite short was called "The Language of Limbs: A Documentary on the Agrifolk Art Movement." It was hilarious and clever and southern. You can view a portion of it here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)