Intern Woes

I've been working at my summer internship for a few weeks now. How strange that June 1 marks one month of summer already. The climate in the Southeast has definitely messed with my biological clock - in Chicago, it's barely in the 70s yet - yet here is climbing steadily towards the 90s.

My summer office does interesting stuff and it's a great working environment to be in. However, there are a few glitches from time to time that have taken some getting used to. In my first week, I didn't really understand their paper recycling system. And this place is REALLY into recycling. So there were a few times where my supervisor said to me, "um, you know you can print double-sided here." And "um, we recycle paper. We use the paper that is printed on one side and print it on the other side and then we recycle it."

Got it.

Despite this lay-down of the office law, I couldn't really figure out where to recycle the paper or how to actually use the paper that is printed on one side because of all the three printers, I had never seen the double-sided feature used. So, because I couldn't figure out how to print double-sided, recycle the paper, or throw any paper away where someone wouldn't see it in the garbage, I just started taking scrap paper home and throwing it away in my own garbage. It sounds crazy, I know, but sometimes one's gotta make some tough choices to get along.

I have since figured out the recycling thing though, and thus spend several minutes a day moving one-sided paper around to the recycle printer tray and then to the two-sided paper recycle bin. Success! Added bonus: they allow you to order the pens you like (unlike my previous workplace where you had to BYO pen).

Ups and Downs and Ups Again

More end of the semester confessionals and reflections have occurred over the past few days.
One girl shared a haiku she had once written about her kneecaps, which she wrote at some restaurant called Haiku, while dining with her physical therapist. Uh-huh. You can't make this stuff up.

More potlucks and parties, and just a little more work to go.
The presentations are done and I just have one more beastly little problem set before my first year of graduate school is complete. Yes!


On a more serious note, I went to a memorial service yesterday for a librarian that passed away. I did not know him well, but he helped me out with a project last semester, and I really liked his personality. His death was very sad because he was very young, but I did feel inspired in the celebration of his life. I glimpsed some of my own dreams - having a family and a dog, sharing joy with family and friends about little things in life (the song, "Let It Snow"?), and also about the importance of pursuing intellectual passions, and embodying those ideals in some way. For this man, it was very important to share information and pursue intellectual thought and intellectual integrity. And I really admired this idea that was conveyed so strongly by his family and friends. I hope to have my intellectual passions and pursuits resonate more deeply throughout my life. I hope that my loved ones understand my sense of humor and the things that bring me joy. I hope to be the most full and effective and loving version of myself.

Why do goats like to eat pants?

I spent the day touring local farms in the area with a few girls from school. We had a great time. We saw a local goat farm, a winery, and a meat and poultry farm. We petted goats and a really pretty cow who licked my hand with his sandpaper tongue. We picked our own eggs from free-range chickens and talked to many of the people who owned the farms or worked there. The goats kept trying to chew on all my friends' pants, but my pants weren't very long so I let them chew on my sweater. We tried some local wines and some tasted not so good but there were a few dessert-type wines with North Carolina's muscadine grapes mixed in, which I really enjoyed.

It was great to get away from the school life for a bit, and do something that I really enjoyed with cool people who enjoyed it too. It was a wonderful day and it made me excited about the summer, and about the region in general. I felt really inspired by seeing the nice life that these animals have and it made me want to buy local meat and support the farms. Really, I felt in love with it! I wish I had taken some pics but if i get some from the girls I'll try to post.

Shhhh! I Gotta Tell You Somethin'

It's the end of the semester confessional! I've had three fellow students this week separately bust out a TMI session about their sex lives. How many times per week. Who has an IUD. Current lack of libido. etc. etc. That edginess that everyone feels at the end of the semester seems to manifest in funny ways, and apparently my classmates tend to unburden themselves of personal information. My technique has been less confessional, and more about getting silly. I wear my huge 70s Target sunglasses everywhere, even at night, and I think this is very funny.

Math Makes Me Laugh

Mr. D and I came up with that choice phrase to put on a t-shirt someday soon. Due to my struggle with "the math" this semester, I think when I'm done with this term I'll laugh at math the way that one would laugh at adversity. Because, really, for me it has been the same thing. To capture it, I write this formula:

The Integral of [Math*Adversity - Obscene Amounts of Time] = Laughter

Man, I'm going to miss writing those equations.

Holy Shit! I have about 10 more days of school left! It so snuck up on me! I'm kind of tired from the thought, even though it's now time to gear up and pump out the term papers and projects in the next week. The last week of classes is pretty much for presenting so the work for that mostly has to be done now. I'm glad I wasn't thinking about this earlier. In some cases, ignorance IS bliss.

My thoughts are on the summer and my upcoming visit to Chicago. I'm planning to go to a Cubs game and out to eat with Mr. D at a few restaurants that I like. I'd like to see my family and maybe go mini-golfing or something with my brother. Yessss! Only 10 days to summer bliss.

Three Magical Weeks

Mr. D is coming to visit for a few days, the first time he has been able to visit this semester. It's a whirlwind time as there are three weeks left to the semester, but I think we'll be able to squeeze in some fun. It's hard to believe that I'm almost finished with my first year of graduate school!

This semester has been kind of tough in that my classes have required a lot of time, but that has made the semester speed by. The basketball season became a bright spot in my schedule, and I kinda became a superfan.

I've decided to stay in North Carolina for the summer. I have a pretty sweet internship working with business assistance and socially-conscious investments. It's a totally new field for me, but I'm looking forward to doing something that I've never done before. I also have 4-5 weeks where I won't be working, which is a new thing for me as well. For the past five years I had a job where I had to work a lot of weekends May through October. It seems so refreshing to have more time for weekend fun this summer. I'm going to spend a week in Chicago, maybe a week at the beach, and the other few weeks - who knows?

When Life Moves Too Fast to Worry

I felt remembered on my birthday this past Sunday by family and friends. Though I almost forgot to spend much time on reflection as I spent two days of my birthday traveling through two time zones (does that mean I'm 30 instead of 29 since I lived through March 16th twice?) on my way back from Thailand. The proceeding few days was spent feeling jet lagged and too distracted for reflection on my birthday.

Overall though, it was a birthday on the end of a truly amazing vacation. Maybe the best vacation of my life so far because it had all elements you'd want on a vacation (except a beach). It had family, friends, an exotic location, new experiences, beautiful souvenirs, relaxing massage, good conversations, and great food. I finally got to try a durian fruit, which has been one of my dreams for 5 years. It was good good good to accomplish a dream, and the fruit had an interesting flavor with a stinky kind of aftertaste that got into the nose/sinuses. It was a unique as I hoped.

Grapefruit Gummies and Calc-u-hell

I've been in the depths of calc-u-hell for the past two days since I've been trying to finish a problem set for a class that's way above my head. It's one of those, "I just need to turn something in" type classes, and even with that, I've spent over 10 hours, only done half, and it's still probably wrong. Calc-u-hell.

What makes it all surreal is that I leave for Thailand in five days. I'm going with my mom to see some family, and to see my best bud who lives over there. Her request for American treats: grapefruit gummies and Wheat Thins.

Last week, I traveled to Charlotte to sit with Mr. D in the airport for a few hours. He was on his way back from Jamaica, and we just sat and talked and hugged and drank coffee. It felt like stolen time and it was lovely, definitely the most fun two hours I've ever spent in an airport.

Also, one of my new Southern friends punched a guy in the lip; another new friend bit a guy on the cheek. This was supposedly all in the context of flirting. I'm not going to insult the Southerners by implying that this is how they do things down here. These attempts weren't successful at getting a number or landing a man. I guess my consolation is that though they may look put together, these gals are still a little rough around the edges...

Party Street

So I live on a "party street." About once every other weekend, some big house full of dudes throws a huge kegger. Two days later, there's about 40 trash bags full of red cups and chip bags and panties sitting on the curb. (Okay, they aren't full of panties, but I thought that sounded kind of funny.) The dudes usually make some noise on the street, but my apartment is kind of set back so it never bothers me.

Currently, though, I'm working on a presentation and a take home mid-term for next week in my apartment. (I will also note that it is 5 p.m. on Sunday night.) I keep hearing these silly cheers, almost like on a movie or TV show about frat parties. The guys: "Oooooooooh!!!" and the girls: "Whooooooooooooo!" then the guys: "Ooooooooh!!!" and the girls: "Whooooooo!" Am I somehow in the TV show too? Peeking through the curtains like, "Oh you crazy kids. Don't walk on that slackline while trying to drink a beer and play the beanbag game."

"Oooooooooh"
"Whoooooooooo!"

That About Says It...

I like to read my horoscope every day. Today, it summed up my deeper feelings of late...

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You tend to be even more compassionate these days, yet in an oddly detached manner. Fortunately, this intellectual separateness allows you to feel even more, for you are less concerned now about losing yourself in someone else's pain because of your tenderheartedness. Accept the fact that you cannot save the whole world. You can certainly help some deserving people along the way, however. (By Rick Levine.)

"Winter Flip-Flops"?

And...a surprise from the Southerners! Their reaction to cold weather has thusly confounded me. It has been dipping down into the 20s and 30s the past few weeks and I have expected an outright tirade against the cold. But no! I have not heard the depth of complaining that my cohorts in Chicago would surely entertain.

Some people do seem to wear heavier-than-usual coats around here, but even more people seem to be in total denial about the colder weather. Many people still do not wear coats and no one wears hats. It's like it is not in their vocabulary or consciousness! Some people just throw on a flannel and consider themselves good-to-go. One girl told me that she switched from her summer flip-flops to her "winter flip-flops" aka those clog-type shoes. (They qualify as flip-flops because they don't tie, I guess?) I've even noticed that many of the children don't have actual winter coats. Rather, the parents just tuck the child or children into their lapel of their flannel or whatever and run out to the car real quick.

The Invisible Hand Is Gonna Knock You Out

I find myself in class sometimes trying to suppress boredom. I usually do this in one of two ways - cultivate controversy or cultivate apathy. Since it is the beginning of the semester, I've been choosing to cultivate controversy. Today, I said in class, "Well, I don't believe in totally free markets." I mean, how smug and fluffy is that?

I also told a story that I heard on the radio about a Muslim woman speaking out AGAINST cultural tolerance in European societies because it allows for extremist Muslim societies to practice oppression of women behind closed doors. I thought it was an interesting discussion point to wrap one's head around. But, I also hoped it might piss somebody off. Make this fun for me, people! Can I get a rise outta your tired asses?!?

Still, I admit that these comments could have been made with a little more sophistication.

I have a deep-seeded fear that I really annoy my classmates with these type of comments. On the other hand, I don't take myself too seriously either. However, there is a Spanish woman in my class, and she takes that shit SERIOUS! Our teacher was explaining an economics concept and she was all, "this doesn't make sense?! does that make sense?!" and it was kind of aggressive. And I was all, girl, you need to chill out on confronting the teacher. He's no Adam Smith! That invisible hand is gonna knock you out!

Boom Goes My Diet-Namite

I'm still on the cooking tip and today I made a whole wheat pasta with lima and green beans and a bastardized pesto sauce. I guess it was a pesto sauce good for winter in that it did not require ole sturdy basil that can often be unavailable during this time. Bastardized pesto sauce contained:

• olive oil
• fresh garlic
• chopped parsley
• anchovies
• capers
• lemon zest
• lemon juice

And it was pretty damn good.

Miz M's brother came a'visiting this weekend. We had a great time. I took him out for some bodacious pulled pork BBQ, biscuits and gravy, and my favorite country ham. Needless to say, boom goes my diet-namite.

For the most part though, we just hung out. I did my homework in the mornings while he slept in, we ate good food, watched a lot of TV, and made fun of each other. It was a blast.

Retirement in Toyko

My friend in Japan sent me this photo. I thought you'd enjoy it too, dear readers.


I've been thinking that Mr. D has been up to something. Developing a slots business in Toyko came as a surprise!

Curry Couscous

I made some Israeli couscous today with red onions, yellow zucchini, mushrooms, curry powder, raisins, salt, chicken, and fresh mint. I made it up and it was totally tasty and I'm taking it for my lunch for the next two days.

Deeper Than Doughnuts

Have you ever noticed that a day can have a theme? It might be a random theme like doughnuts or something. Like, no matter where you go, people are always discussing doughnuts or eating doughnuts or wearing some hipster t-shirt with a doughnut on it. But sometimes, a theme that emerges out of a day can be more meaningful. Let me explain:

Today started out with a phone call from a friend who is at a prestigious medical school and who has decided that she will be a psychiatrist. And she's going to be damn good at it. She was helping me think through a personal problem, and I found her insights to be very helpful. Later in the day, I heard a radio program with an expert on ADD and ADHD who is actually a teacher at her medical school. While I don't have ADD, I still found his discussion of the benefits of exercise for the brain, and how meditation can be AS EFFECTIVE AS MEDICATION for people with ADD, to be interesting and applicable outside of ADD in particular. He also discussed a term "biofeedback," which caused a mad search online to figure out what it was, which led to reading about the medical benefits of meditation on the Mayo Clinic website. And so on, I found a link to this website www.worldprayers.org through the Mayo Clinic website. Which generated this beautiful random prayer:

For as long as space endures
And for as long as living beings remain
Until then may I too abide
To dispel the misery of the world.

the way of the bodhisattva - shantideva - 8th century

It's pretty deep that there were some people praying this prayer for, presumably, us, way back in the 8th century. I find that comforting and inspiring.

I'll Make Myself Happy Just To Please You

For New Years 2008, Miz M's resolutions are not out of the ordinary. I've been feeling a pull to workout more, and also to improve my diet. I want to lose about 10 pounds in the next couple of months. My jump start? I ate at this raw food place in Chicago with my mom the day before I left town. It's a cool, unpretentious place with great healthy food. Despite that people can get a little over the top in promoting the raw food lifestyle, the energy of the food does seem to be on a higher plane. So I want to cook a few "raw" dishes this next months, or at least use the raw foods idea to inspire me to be more creative with vegetables and eat more vegetables in my diet.

Being back in Chicago made me realize how much I miss the "foodie" opportunities that abound there. Between all the great and creative restaurants, the ethnic grocery stores, and the corner yuppie-foodie stores, you can eat pretty well and pretty interestingly in Chicago within a budget. That was one of my hobbies in Chicago, and it's pretty damn dismal here in North Carolina. My theories were confirmed by two sources (Mr. D's mom and my dad's eccentric Bosnian friend Boz) that the groceries down here are unusually expensive. It's very hard to eat those fresh fruits and veggies on a graduate student budget. One thing that might make me happy is to learn more about Southern cooking while I'm down here. The question is, how do I cook Southern and also try to lose weight? I know and fully support the importance of bacon in these Southern dishes, but that goes against my other goals. Just one more thing to be resolved in 2008... you gotta have something to work on!

I am also going to try to incorporate meditation into my life this year. My goal is to try to meditate for at least 5 minutes each day, maybe more. It sounds simple, but I think it will be hard to stay committed to it. I meditated for 5 minutes yesterday and already remembered a dream last night. In the dream, I was driving a construction crane in order to help my parents solve a legal case. Huh? In the dream I kept saying, "Well, I'm driving a crane but at least I'm outside." You can't pay for entertainment like that.

Just Like That...

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!

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?

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.

"Love Noises"

So, this is totally gross. Gramma, if you're reading this, you might want to stop here.

But, for a few weeks now, I have been hearing my neighbor's "love noises." Or, to be more specific, his girlfriend's. Most sexologists (?) talk about how couples have a routine in the bedroom. I'm here to tell you that this is true. And I wish I didn't know.

While living the apartment lifestyle, it is likely that you will hear someone's "love noises" at some point or another - your roommate's, your neighbor's - and like me, you'll probably wish you hadn't.

I have puzzled over how to deal with this problem, and I have thought of only one very passive-aggressive solution. I guess I could rent a few pornos and put them on the TV at full volume, and leave the house for several hours. It's just an idea.

Halloween and Squinty Eye

I was a tennis player for Halloween. A blonde tennis player, like Anna Kournikova. As part of my costume I said, "I model now." This picture is of my friend Megan and I. She went as a Christmas tree. We took this picture because we said that we both sometimes take pictures where one eye is slightly closed. My squinty eye is my left eye. Her squinty eye is her right eye.

In this picture, I borrowed Colonel Sander's mustache. But I had to give it back. These things happen on Halloween.

You Gonna Eat That Pickle?! An "Aha! Moment"

I went out to lunch with some classmates yesterday. We went to a pizza slice place, and one girl ordered a slice with tomatoes, spinach, and onions. She spent some time picking the onions off her pizza and a guy (originally from Milwaukee) said, "Are you going to eat those?"
"No," she said, "Go to town."And then he put all the onions on his slice and took a bite.

"I feel like that's a Midwest thing," I said, as he rearranged the onions on his slice of pizza.

"Me too," he said. "I always eat off my friends' plates at home. I always know who is not going to eat their pickle. Then I eat it."

"I do that too!" I exclaimed.

Some of our Southern classmates agreed that eating off someone's plate was, perhaps, a Midwestern cultural thing. Some people said that in the South, "you always clean your plate." I guess the equivalent saying in the Midwest would be, "You always clean your plate, and offer to clean your neighbor's plate too."

Hippie-Ohs

Last night I bailed out of a big U sports event and randomly ran into a gal in my class who I think is pretty cool. She is more into the "alternative" scene here, and by that I mean the bike shop/organic farms type of thing. And sure 'nuff she invited me to an outdoor projected movie at the back alley bike shop of her friends. So, it was a kind of great and unique scene people-wise and I was excited to see another side of the town.

Unfortunately, my friend had to leave to catch the last bus to a neighboring town where she lives. So I was kind of left with some people I didn't know, watching a horrible torture scene in a...um... unique... mountain bike slasher flick. I had brought some Oreos thinking that it would be a hit (and help me make some friends) to share some cookies. Only, I found out that the bike community here also wasn't like the ones at home.

The bike messenger and bike shop kids that I knew in the Midwest were kind of grubby (okay, same), had alternative politics (same), and went dumpster diving (not same). When I passed around the bag of Oreos, the girls refused to eat any (frown), and some guy said, "Oh, these are real Oreos. They don't even sell these at the Co-op. They sell 'Hippie-oes.'"

I mean, he ate one and everything. Maybe even two.

But I thought, um..., really? These kids buy organic Oreos at the Hippie Co-op??? I mean, (1) aren't they expensive? and (2) why would you ever buy organic fake Oreos? Oh, and (3) is it really that rare that someone would bring preservative-ladden Oreos to one of their (OUTDOOR bike messenger slasher) parties?

Even "alternative" Southern culture is more puzzling that I even imagined.

Back to the Future

As I sit down for a night of studying tonight, I feel like a younger version of myself.

Probably because I just worked out to a Cindy Crawford video from 1993, I study all the time, and I have no money. Yes - it IS like being back in college!

Now that I'm getting the hang of graduate school, I'm finding more "balance" with my schedule. What this actually means is that I'm studying more and watching less back-episodes of "Six Feet Under." But this new "balance" also means that I'm finding time to eat healthier, exercise a few times a week, and live within a shoestring budget. And I think a lot too.

I am pursing my graduate degree so that I can have an interesting job and get paid a lot better than when I came into school. I am learning so much in my classes, and I'm also finding time to dream about things I'm interested in, or jobs I might like to have. The other thing that I'm finding refreshing about school is that there is more freedom to take risks that is not usually allowed in the working world. But, it's more fun because I appreciate it more than I did when I was younger. I am more bold now, because I have more experience to draw on; yet, I am very much still exploring.

Anyway...

Mr. D is coming to visit this weekend, and I am so excited. We haven't seen each other in 2 months. Though we have kept our friendship very loving and supportive and full of humor, it is going to be so, so good to have a conversation face-to-face, to hug each other, to have dinner together. I want to make him pancakes. And steak. And try to tickle him. Whatever!

And Another Thing...

One more weird thing about North Carolina: the men here don't finish your ice cream for you when you can't finish it. All the men in my life in Chicago - my dad, my brother, Mr. D - would all have at least taken a whack at the remainder of my unfinished M&M blizzard.

Anxiety Crane and Notorious B.I.G. of Econ

Last night I slept horribly. I was worrying about my Econ exam today (my first grad school exam, well, quiz - ). I did sleep, but I tossed and turned all night. I kept half-waking up and finding myself in really weird physical poses. Like some tense crane arm position (think: Kung Fu Hustle). And later, with one leg crunched way up and the other leg just out normal (think: Justin Timberlake high-knee step dance move only not dancing).

I woke up knowing I was overly nervous and thus flipping through my iPod to find the proper pick-me-up song before test time. When I hit on Notorious BIG's "Big Poppa," I knew I found my morning jam. On my way to school I imagined myself as the Notorious BIG of Economics. Like, I'd be a really fat dude with lots of dollar bills who drew really accurate supply and demand curves. Unh- babe-a babe-a! Silly and ridiculous, I know, but I'm sure it helped me ace the test.

Small Town Perks

The top headline in today's local paper was probably geared (and I think successfully) just to increase sales. This is probably the most salacious but least important news I can think of. See this:
http://www.newsobserver.com/news/story/712570.html

I would say, "Welcome to the South," but I'm guessing this type of stuff *may* happen all over the country. They just might not publish it in the paper in other places...

When You Deserve To Get Treated Passive-Aggressively

My downstairs neighbor is a post-graduate school slob.
He never takes a turn to put out the trash (we share a trash can), nor does he ever bring the trash can BACK from the curb. He has poker parties where him and his friends drink a lot of beer, then he puts the beer in the recycling bin but never takes that out to the curb either. See exhibit A:

Note the huge cobweb from the recycle bin to the house because so much time has passed since dude took out the recycling.

Also, this guy collects his "junk mail" and throws it in some random bin that he keeps in the hall way. I have never seen him empty this bin, and the hallway is collecting additional detritus such as lint balls and dryer sheets, bits of plastic, and yesterday A HUGE PALMETTO BUG, which doesn't seem to bother dude at all. See exhibit B:Where I've started using my own recycle bin and just given in about taking out the trash, having his nasty trash overflow in the common space is really starting to get on my nerves. I was ranting to Mr. D about this, and he suggested that someone that behaves like my neighbor deserves to be treated passive-aggressively. And I had to agree. So, I'm thinking of writing him a note, in the spirit of one of my favorite websites, passiveaggressivenotes.com. Do you have any ideas for passiveaggressive notes, dear readers? I'll post some ideas too in the next few days.

"Guys In Ties." "Girls In Pearls."

Can you find me amongst some of my new classmates?
We are dressed up for a morning tailgate party for the college football game.

What Accent, You Tie-Wearing Weird-Ass?

Undergrad Brats

There are three apartments on the lot where I live, so I share the yard space with a bunch of guy undergrads. They kind of suck. One reason they kind of suck is that they have campfires in the back yard starting at 12 a.m. and going until 4 a.m. Whatever wood they use for these fires is maybe soaked in bacon grease or something because it has a weird smoky/meaty smell. They also throw beer cans into the fire. On one hand, I sort of think it is awesome that they can pretend campfire on the weekends, but on the other hand, it stinks, it's dirty, and it's right under my window.


Data Crunching Satisfaction

School got really busy starting this week. I spent probably 20 hours downloading Census data and formatting it. When my head was on the verge of exploding (and after I spilled a cup of hot coffee on my hand and cried for 10 minutes in the campus bookstore bathroom) I was able to step back and realize this: grad school is not fun right now but I probably am learning some skills to be a better planner and policy maker. Whoo. I also spent the entire Friday in the library doing data crunching, but came out with a strangely high amount of self-satisfaction for getting so much work accomplished. Weird.


My Accent?

I have now been asked twice about my "Wisconsin accent." The first time someone asked me about it, it went one ear and out the other. The second time I was like, "I have a Wisconsin accent?" and people were like, "Oh YEAH!" It's news to me. I guess I've never lived outside my home region where I could "have an accent." I've also never lived in a region where they wear ties and seer-sucker pants to a football game. They say: it's more refined. I say: it's more uptight.

Other things they haven't heard of down here: the movie "Shortbus," and eye surgery for Asians.

I Cooked My First Steak

It's official.
I'm trying new things.
I cooked my first steak!

I got a "flat iron" steak at Whole Foods yesterday in anticipation of a BBQ that I never attended. I rubbed it with olive oil and some random Chef Paul Prudhomme's "Meat Magic" and pan fried it for 5 minutes a side. It was delicious! I think the cut was slightly tough, but I didn't mind that. It wasn't leathery and the rub was spicy and flavorful. I made a complementary spinach and fresh tomato salad for a delicious and amazing dinner. Hooray! Who knew steak could be so easy?

Temple of the Mind

I'm about to start a day of studying. What's amazing is that 11 a.m. on Sunday morning is equivalent to ghost town time in a college town. Except for the many, many people who are going to church right now, this joint is deserted.

Today, I'm worshipping at the church of the mind, which apparently involves listening to opera and researching Census data in the library.

Wish me luck.

Bike Ride for Coffee and Happiness and Micheal Jackson

Saturday was probably my best day yet since I've lived here in North Carolina. I went with a new friend to participate in a bike ride around Durham. It was a fundraiser for sending bikes to Rwandan coffee growers. The bike ride included stops at local businesses - a community garden, a co-op bike space, a record store, a coffee shop. It was fun to be outside and fun to see some cool community spots. I enjoyed spending the day getting to know a new friend. Then we went to a Durham bar for beers and snacks. Then we went out to dance and enjoy the band, Who's Bad?, a Micheal Jackson cover band. I danced a lot, and really enjoyed the music.

It was a full day.

Hone Your Listening Skills

I'm still kind of amazed about the whole student lifestyle. I read, read, read. Do a problem set. Do a group project. Listen to 3 lectures. Then go home. Then repeat.

While I am in school now to get in and get out with a degree that will help me advance my career, I keep thinking about those students who are in it for the Ph.d. They do what I do. Plus research. Plus write a dissertation. Then they play politics and cross their fingers to get a good job. Then they do more research and have to prepare the lectures. There is nothing inherent in being a good student that leads to being a good teacher or a good lecturer. And nowhere else, besides school, are we supposed to listen and absorb what someone says for hours and hours as a method of learning a skill. It's really weird when you think about it. But, all in all, the academic lifestyle certainly has a lot of benefits, and allows for quite a lot of leisure time, if you can get your work done without procrastinating.

As for skills, I have noticed an increase in my reading/skimming speed, for what it is worth. And, for the most part, I can concentrate on expanding my mind and thinking about the subject matter, and hell, fantasizing what kind of job I want to do next, rather than work politics or pay scale or whatever. It's kind of nice... still busy, but nice.
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"Da Cheek's" annoyance of the week: The undergrad boys that live in the front house and their recent obsession with grilling stinky meats underneath my bedroom window at 2 a.m. At least I've gotten them to stop parking me in on the weekend so I don't have to wait until their 2 a.m. 'stink meat and bud light' hangover wears off at 2 p.m.

"Da Cheek's" wonder of the week: Locopop's flavor named "Creamy Lime." Mmmm.

Perfumes Prohibited

I've completed my first week of classes and I'm about to launch into week two.
My first impression: I'm tired! All this walking around, cramming and skimming readings, and attending classes is busier than I thought.
My second impression: reading for a living can be a pretty sweet gig.

Most of the little annoying things of adjusting to a new place are rolling off my back with surprising ease.
The few that stick:

(1) Prohibition of fragrances and perfumes in my departmental library. I love to spray a bit of perfume on myself and I hate feeling like I cannot ask the librarian for references at 3 p.m. if I sprayed a little dab on at 8 a.m. I'm sure I sweat it off anyway, but I have a nagging fear of being berated at the circulation desk for smelling too good.

(2) The goddamn heat and humidity down here and the resulting personal sweating. I have definitely not acclimated to the climate yet. Big drips of sweat dripping down my face when I'm meeting new friends and colleagues? Pit stains when I raise my hand to participate in Economics class? Not cute!? Is it because I've lived through cold winters that I sweat the most in this town?! How long does it take for the body to adjust to the work of a sweat factory?

(3) The lack of a drug store or any useful convenience-type store on the town's main street. C'mon! Don't people ever need to buy tampons or bobby pins or shoe polish on their way home from class?! I was at a party and I said, "This town doesn't have any side streets." Man, I lost some friends over that one. "THIS TOWN HAS SIDE STREETS!" Planning parties are sweet.

BagThat Rocket

For those of you that don't read passiveaggressivenotes.com, you MUST MUST MUST at least check out this entry from August 20. Hilarious!

'Brows

I don't know why, but eyebrows keep coming up in conversation.

I was socializing with some colleagues this past weekend and I had a pretty fun conversation about eyebrows with a girl who I previously did not have that much in common with. Now we have had some great laughs about eyebrows.

Southern Stroll/Heat Walk

I'm perfecting my "southern stroll" as one of my newly acquired southern traits. The southern stroll also known as the the "heat walk" is the way you walk when it is 100 degrees outside and you are walking home from class. You are wearing a sweater because it's so damn hot that if you just wore your backpack with your sundress, your backpack straps would make big ole red marks on your sweaty bare shoulders. So sunburn/backback-burn or extremely sweaty layers of clothes? Walking at a pace that is slower than... slower than... my god, molasses or Heinz ketchup in a glass bottle or a really high maintenance friend that needs to pluck her eyebrows 5 minutes before you all were scheduled to go out. Slow-ass slow is how you need to walk in this climate so you don't pass out on the sidewalk spilling all your gazillion papers on the street. And then sweating on them.

Miz M's Gonna Like It Here

A week of school time activities has passed and I must say that I am in a good spot. The orientation meetings were not the most interesting but they did provide a lot of good information on all the resources that are available to students at the University. Damn! I love it and I think it is so exciting that all these people are here (and are paid) to help students succeed at their intellectual pursuits. It's awesome to be a student.

At one of the TA meetings, the professor (and others) were warning us that as graduate students we would be surrounded by brilliant people and that it would be very intimidating and high pressure. And I thought: bring it on! Not that I want to be competitive or that I'm looking forward to the pressure but I am really excited to be surrounded by "really smart people." I think it will be very stimulating and I am looking forward to that!

The past weekend was full of departmental social events and I enjoyed pretty much every minute of it. I know that it may never be like this again. I'm on the brink of starting something totally new, and I have met all these people that are in the same spot. Pretty much everyone that is interested in socializing is really nice and I met a lot of fun people to talk to. I talked with one woman for an hour about eyebrows, another guy about religion, another group about the Greyhound Ameripass, and many, many other interesting and fun conversations. It was fun to meet people, spy out some potential friends, and be on the cusp of a new intellectual adventure. I even enjoyed my trip to Target tonight and the curvy roads, tall trees, and setting sun. It was even kind of beautiful. As Annie said, "I think I'm gonna like it here."

Making In-Roads With the Right Kinda People

The last night that Mr. D was here, we went exploring for a nice place to have a drink. We found a cool bar that, in truth, looked very "Chicago/Wicker Park." It had red Christmas lights, saggy couches, a pool table, a real jukebox, and a plethora of hipster kids. We sat down at the bar and then we were asked for our membership number. Huh?! The bartender, Lee, told us that an "antiquated bible belt rule" dictated that we needed to be members of the social club to drink there. A "social club" is what they call a bar down here that DOES serve hard liquor and DOES NOT serve food.

It was not hard to become a member ($10 fee & disclosure of some personal information), and our guy promptly waived the three day waiting period and comped me my first drink. Haaay-yo! (Chicago bar, but a nicer North Carolina bartender!) When I discovered the Elvis pinball machine in the back, I knew I was making in-roads with the right people.

Quality Time Spent with Mr. D

For the past six days, Mr. D has been visiting. We have had a wonderful time together. I met his parents for the first time, and then his dad's whole side of the family who live in the area! Whoa! I also met his best childhood friend's sister and her husband who live around here too. Everyone was very nice, fun to be around, and it helped to ease the loneliness of this new place. Big friendly family people! Old friends! Time with Mr. D! What a comfort!

We also ate at Mama Dip's three times! And spent some lovely and relaxing days at the beach.

Code Word: Ma'am?

Okay, it turns out that only some people in south are friendly. Some are rude! Maybe this is similar to anywhere but I swear, it makes me wonder sometimes: is there some cultural password that I'm missing? I have considered that this password could be "sir" or "ma'am." I thought that these words were only used grudgingly by characters in Harry Potter. But it seems that people in the south actually use these words, like on the phone.

The first time I was called "ma'am," I'll admit, it was charming. But later I found myself having slightly rude-seeming conversations with people that I was trying to get to help me over the phone. "Did I do something wrong?" I thought. Perhaps throwing in a "sir" or "ma'am" here and there would really help me get on with the locals in the service sector. But I can't help but think it would just sound awkward as an addition to my vocabulary. It would seem more like an affectation if I said it. "Oh, thanks for the insurance quote...... MA'AM!!!!!!!!" And when I said "ma'am" my voice would crack or squawk. I think I can only start using these southern passwords alongside some other physical affectation, such as a feather boa (too hot), rhinestone cat glasses (too much) or a diamond-studded cigarette holder (perfect). Until I've scoured the thrift shops and estate sales to find this perfect "ma'am" cigarette holder, well, I guess I'll just have to use the well-worn verbal tools of the North: "Please" and "Thank You".

Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down of My New Town

Thumbs Up:
Wine selection and chocolate selection at foodie store: A Southern Season.

The campus is beautiful.

The people are southern-friendly and love to chat, which is completely charming.

Logistics, such as opening a bank account, or figuring how to hook up cable and internet, are very easy.

More trees and fresher air.


Thumbs Down:

Olive selection at foodie store: A Southern Season.

It's 100 degrees today, and is supposed to be 100 degrees all week.

Garbage is put out on the curb, and it really really stinks in the heat.

Streets are totally confusingly laid out, change names, and wind around.

Lots of bugs.

Fresher air benefit is obliterated by high heat and resulting ozone alert day.

A Mixed Bag

I made it to North Carolina and alive and well, only tired.

My first impressions? When I walked into my apartment I still liked it, and subsequently, when I left and returned, I liked it again and again. So, that's a good thing! I've been setting everything up, with the help of my parents and I'm pretty happy with how things are going.

On the other hand, it is weird to be in a college town again. I feel kind of old. 28? Damn. That feels old somehow. Where are all the peeps in their 30s at?!? Other complaints? I have a scratchy throat from all the "new" chemicals. New bed, new shower curtain. All that fire-resistant shit smells a little funny. Or, could it be allergies from the NC vegetation? Maybe I should vacuum my apartment again. Then again, my new bed is awesome and comfortable and has nothing to do with my current insomnia. And my new shower curtain has a zebra pattern on it. Let's hear it for the animal prints! What?! What!? Anyone...

One of the hardest things is getting around town. All the streets wind around and change names. The shopping centers have such lush vegetation and little signage that, though aesthetically pleasing, it is very difficult to tell which stores they contain. It makes the area conducive to just "knowing where everything is" rather than, like, figuring it out on the Chicago grid.

Insomnia Can Be Fun

Okay? Searching through the Internet this morning, I found this webiste. It offers a retouching service for baby photos. Daaaaaaaaaaamn! That stuff is C-R-A-Z-Y!

And hilarious.

http://www.naturalbeautiescontest.homestead.com/retouch4a.html

Introducing... "Da Cheek"

Insomnia strikes again! But what better time for blogging?

I'm a little nervous about my move. Everything is packed up and awaiting a transit vehicle. My apartment is clean. I'm just hoping to get my security deposit (small SNAFU) before I leave. Today I just need to finalize some errands (drop off stuff at good-will, maybe do a load of laundry.) Hopefully I'll do some relaxing stuff too - like ride my bike, read, take a nap, or watch some episdoes of "The Chappelle Show." Yo!

My right butt cheek/hip/lower back is aching/tense like crazy. You know how some people can "feel it in their bones" or can tell a rain coming by an achy arthritic elbow or whatever? Apparently, I can feel "it" in right my butt cheek a.k.a "Da Cheek". Though the possibilities for this are not endless, they are somewhat interesting. Could "Da Cheek" indicate an impending pop quiz in grad school? The proximity of a Krispy Kreme donut house from the highway? Tell a good location for water from a well? That psychic on Mallrats had her third nipple, I now have "Da Cheek."

No Boogie Man

I actually woke up happy today.

I can't say why I slept so well. Or why I woke up in such good spirits. Perhaps because I've reached the point of no return with packing up my apartment. Perhaps because I finally got a new bed for my new apartment. Or perhaps, because my family shared in a North Carolina-themed going away cake that I so desired. But I woke up today happy, and ready for this change in my life to occur.

She Whaled On Those Dishes

My apartment is officially a mess and there's no going back until the final cleaning! The good news is that packing has ensued and several boxes have been officially packed, sealed, and labeled. My friend Jess came over today and whaled on my dishes collection by wrapping it in lots and lots of newspaper. Thanks, Jess! Seriously, this woman can pack dishes into a box like a jigsaw puzzle of pretzels and cheese from the 1980s. It was a huge help to get this moving forward.

I also went to Hot Doug's for the first time today with Mr. D. I had a smoked crayfish and spiced pork hot dog. With shredded Monterrey Jack cheese. And a remoulade sauce. Yeeeeeow! It was A-MAZING!

Yesterday I got a massage which was also amazing. I released probably an entire six months of muscle tension, which apparently I've been keeping all in my butt muscles. There is something funny and also embarrassing about that. Needless to say, it felt good to be able to turn my head again after loosening my shoulder muscles as well. Just in time to lift a bunch of heavy boxes and place them into a moving truck in about a week. Sweet.

Shrimp Po' Boy

On Friday, I rode my bike the grocery store and bought ingredients for quick and easy Shrimp Po' Boy sandwiches. It was a recipe from Real Simple that I thought Mr. D would really enjoy (he did). Then I got home in time to watch the show, "The View." It was fun, but also scary how easy it was to slip into the life of a stay-at-home lady. Real Simple? The View? Yikes.

Today I went to the local public pool for outdoor lap swimming. It was lovely and I think getting some outdoor exercise, in addition to packing, will help me keep my sanity this week. I'm looking forward to this change which I know will be a really good thing in many ways, but I am also fraught with emotion. I'm so sad to be leaving the city where I have lived for 5 years, and my friends and family that live here. I know I can visit; I know I'll make new friends. But I will miss Mr. D and I'll miss my routine and I'll miss being a part of the network I've built here.

I think I should just rent a sad movie, have a good cry, and be done with it! Brokeback Mountain is supposed to be a tear-jerker...

Mary Tyler Moore Moment

As I left my work yesterday after 5 years at my job, shopping bags in hand (filled with files, pictures, and other stuff from my desk) I had to laugh with excitement. I even felt like kicking up my legs in some sort of bell kick. I felt a very Mary Tyler Moore moment - a young professional woman gracefully closes a door and starts off on a new adventure! Exciting!

Sweet, Sweet Ninjas

I have two days left of work - two days! I have been cleaning out my files and email and the desktop of my computer. I've worked at my job for 5 years, and it seems like a lot has happened during that time. Anyway, I thought I'd publish this email from a friend of mine that I used to email at work non-stop. It was right after one of the White Sox Games in the World Series and it made me laugh so much at the time. I wanted to archive it somehow, as part of email pals gone by.
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i am embarrassed to admit it, but i will cuz we bare all always: i did stop believin. a few times. in the 3rd, 5th, and 8th inning to be exact. i thought we were gonna out-and-out blow the World Series. and be the laughing stock of the sports world. i thought Journey was going to disown us, and we'd be left crying in our beers with only Nelson to donate one of their b-sides for our next theme song. but then something happened. something i shant soon forget. we won. and i started believing again. and again. it didn't stop til i as in the car this morning. i was listening to the radio, and a song distracted me to the point where i forgot to believe for a few seconds. but then i remembered to not stop believin', and that brings us up to right this second. i am believin' 100% even as i type every word of this email.

it feels nice to believe in something. something as pure and honest as a bunch of d-bags from all over the country representing Chicago, and using steroids and human growth hormones to cheat the system and win for me.

Friday the 13th - Rehabbed Purple Cars

I slept fitfully last night. You know, one of those nights where you wake up with your shirt twisted around one way, and the sheet twisted around the opposite way? I don't know if I have been watching too much Dr. Who, but my dreams were definitely bordering on the Sci-fi.

In one dream, there was a huge plastic bumblebee that was buzzing around my head. It stuck its big plastic stinger into my forehead to deposit a microchip (?) into my head. I couldn't get the bee to get out of my forehead until I woke up.

In another dream, I went to my landlord's house. In this dream, unlike in real life, he lived in the country. I walked up the driveway to his detached garage and there was a big purple car (from the 70s) that he was rehabbing. There were parts everywhere, and it looked totally obliterated, with parts all over the place. I walked around the garage and there were two more of these purple cars in the yard, both with the parts all over and everywhere. I never found my landlord, just these abandoned cars "in progress."

Mercury In Retrograde?

A few years ago I knew a woman named "Sage" who was a massage therapist. I knew Sage from some friends that were in performance art "bands," and I would see her around at different concerts and art events around town. One time I was chatting with her at a concert and it went something like this:

Sage: How ya doin'?
Miz M: Ugh, things have been so crazy lately!
Sage: Well, Mercury is in retrograde.
Miz M: Huh?!
Sage: It makes everything out of sorts.

I've since lost touch with Sage and her friends. But I still say that phrase all the time when things are going oddly wrong. If someone has a random miscommunication with a friend or coworker which is blown way out of proportion, my response is: "Maybe, Mercury is in retrograde?" Then I chuckle to myself. Ridiculous!

Mercury was recently in retrograde (June 16 - July 10). And, seriously, all kinds of that stuff was going wrong. My direct deposit didn't come through, a friend got money stolen out his account, another friend was charged for a hotel room three times at 5 times the rate. What's up, Mercury?

Reliable source, www.karmastrology.com sums it up when it says:

Retrograde Mercury is the most commonly known astrological signature for Murphy's Law ("If something can go wrong, it will"), and is one of the first features intermediate astrology students learn about. Say it to a seasoned astrologer and you'll likely get an amused smile and some delightful stories about how things can get quite unexpectedly unhinged.

Computers crash, software develops unexpected glitches, traffic jams ensue, telephone service snarls up, letters get lost on the mail, machinery breaks down, new projects fail. Ah, yes, the trickster Mercury is up to his old pranks again. In fact, at least three times a year for about three weeks each time Mercury has his way with us.

Common Sense for Pedestrians

I was riding my bike to work today and I cut through downtown to avoid the windy corridor of Oak Street and Taste of Chicago. It was a pain to bike through downtown because of all the stoplights, mostly. There was also an annoying pedestrian, a guy walking with his nose buried in the Wall Street Journal. In general, I don't have a problem with people walking and reading as long as they are will to be slow and kind of passive. In other words, they are fine as long as they follow the traffic signals and make it easy for people to go around them.

So I passed WSJ dude on my bike and then had to wait at a light. He proceeded to walk and stand directly in front of my bike at the street corner, only to begin reading his paper again. WTF?!

I had another similar issue with a pedestrian when I was visiting Chapel Hill last week. Some dude was standing on the street corner with his head buried in a map. The light turned green and there he was, buried in his map, not moving. I began to make a right turn, and lo and behold he stepped off the curb (not paying attention) and I had to swerve out of the way. "It's okay! I'll wait!" he yelled after my car angrily.

In these situations, both people have a responsibility to be attentive to their surroundings. Pedestrians certainly have the right-of-way, except when they are being total bozos and not paying attention.

Chicago Gay Pride Parade - 2007

Chicago Gay Pride Parade - 2007. My first year in all my 5 years in Chicago attending the parade and I got to dance on a float! The festivities were really fun, the outfits wild, and everyone had a bumpin' stereo. Aside from the fabulous drag queens and tough roller derby girls, there were also many church groups and health groups that had floats and supporters in the parade. It was fun and inspiring to be a part of a celebration for a community that doesn't always get support. When I was dancin' on the float, I thought of my family members and friends that are gay, and I was proud to be part of this message - equal rights for all and God loves everyone.

Pitbull With Lipgloss

We hit the ground running when we arrived in Chapel Hill on Thursday morning. The goal was to find an apartment within the following day and a half and I will tell you, dear readers, that the goal was well met! Though not without stress.

First we hit up a couple of giant apartment complexes. They ranged from cheap to really expensive - $425 to $699 for a one bedroom - but all complexes included an outdoor pool which shocked this Chicago girl. They were shabby to really nice, but after seeing a few, I knew it wasn't my ideal. We were hanging out for a break by the co-op grocery in the area, using the free Internet, when I decided to call the co-op affiliated realty company. It turned out that they didn't rent apartments, except for one guy, "Don" who had some of his own units for rent. He invited us to his office (dog friendly, of course) where he used his special realtor's code to look up some apartment listings, and then used his knowledge to screen one bedroom apartments in my price range. He showed us his place for rent (in a basement though, not my thing) and told us about the fun coffee bars, pubs, and an "underground" "smoke shop" whose hours were set by when the owner's car was parked in the back. Uh-huh. It was great, just what I was hoping to find, and he was very kind to spend the time.

He also told us where to find local BBQ, Mama Dip's or Allen and Son, and about one of the big rental companies, of which he described the owner as a "pitbull with lipgloss." Don's list of apartments also led us to my final pick. It is a cute two bedroom on the second floor of a house, has free laundry and parking, and is really close to the campus and downtown. I left happy and relieved that I found a good place to live. for (I hope) the next two years.

Ocean Picture - Ahhh!

We had gorgeous weather - hot and sunny most days but with a lovely strong breeze. It was rainy at the beach yesterday but the menacing puffy clouds made for inspiring photos!

The Beach House Where We Stayed

Oak Island Shrimp Dish

Here's a photo of what we made with our Oak Island local shrimp. We used a shrimp boil made by "Clem's," the local seafood business where we bought our shrimp. We sauteed onions, red pepper, spinach, and chives. We also bought some lump crab cakes, not local but totally delicious. We tried to eat out one night and ate at a nasty fried placed called "Jones' Seafood." No matter what we tried to get, even ordering from the more expensive 'broiled' menu, everything came out fried. I ordered "deviled crab cakes" that the waitress described as being seerved "on a plate." Those things were breaded and fried, just like the "shrimp." They also came with a side of hush puppies that were pretty good until we realized that the yummy "dipping sauce" was actually just pure butter with some cinnamon. Good for a few bites but overall, we were better with what we cooked ourselves.

"Beached"

I am posting from a library in Oak Island, NC. I've been 'beached' here for two days, going on three! We drove and drove and drove, and stopped a night in Asheville, NC, which really was lovely. Aside from spending so many hours in the car, it was a pretty drive. It has been so nice to relax in front of the ocean, swim in warm waters, and boil up some fresh local shrimp in pasta and veggies.

I've come to the library to do some apartment research and make some appointments for my pending visit to Chapel Hill. I'm sure to find something, and I hope it will be something good at least for one year. Best case scenario, it will be two.

Watch That Hemline, Wear That Sack

I have to attend a black-tie gala fundraiser for work this week. It is our second fundraiser of this sort and a few of my coworkers are notorious for showing some extreme cleavage at such events. Many of the ladies I work with are well endowed in that way, and so when they show off their *assets* it is very, ahem, noticeable. Here is an excerpt of an email the staff received regarding this issue:

It is important for the staff to err on the conservative side for the event. Specifically that means watch how much skin is showing. Short skirts or a revealing neckline might be fun for a private party but are not considered professional attire in the office or at events.

Overall, I don't have an issue with the message. However, it does strike me as rather hilarious because we have been told several additional rules for our behavior (i.e. don't have more than 1 drink, don't socialize during the event, you are here to work, you must lift this box, you only have 15 minutes to get ready), which end up being really prudish and taking away any possible enjoyment that the staff may have hoped to experience.

Regarding the attire, another coworker said, "Pretend you are attending a Mormon wedding - high necklines and low hemlines." Seriously? I better wash my turtleneck burlap sack for this event. Either that, or I'm expecting a wardrobe stipend to find the appropriate mother-in-law wedding outfit (long flowy skirt and bejeweled blazer with sensible shoes.) Perhaps the idea is that the scrubby-ass-looking staff will sucker the contributors to spend more money? Poor taste, I say - if I were a millionaire I would feel much more obliged to contribute to a hard-working staff who look totally glamorous while doing it. So, about that wardrobe budget...?

I'd Really Appreciate It If

I just discovered the joys of this hilarious website.
It is all about passive-aggressive notes from neighbors, strangers, roommates, etc. There is even a section about the office fridge. Sound familiar?

Enjoy!

The Clint Eastwood Factor

Lady Detective

I had a weird dream last night where I left my car at a gas station. I just felt like leaving it. Sometime the next day, I received a ransom note from a stranger trying to extract money for the car. Knowing that it was at a gas station, I went back to the gas station to talk to the attendants to find out if they were trying to blackmail me. When I arrived there, my car had a bunch of tubes and stuff in it. Working at the gas station was a bunch of young guys, kind of sweet and boisterous, and with a little flirtatious conversation I was able to glean that they thought my car was abandoned so they just decided to fix it for practice and because they were bored. Also, because I was so charming, they were going to do it for free. Sweet! I wish that actually happened. I also figured out that some random guy driving by the gas station wrote down the license plate number and had sent me the blackmail note just to see if anything would happen, because he thought the car was abandoned.

Frodo Feet

It doesn't seem to matter what shoes I wear around - flats or heels, sandals or closed-toe shoes - my feet get messed up in the summer. The material of the shoe straps, buckles, or just plain leather rub on the skin of my feet and give me some major blisters which I then cover with several band-aids. It' s terrible! I don't know what to do to prevent this. Go barefoot? Gross!

The Clint Eastwood Factor

I have only seen two movies by Clint Eastwood - "Bridges Over Madison County" and the one where he's a bank robber and voyeur. Both those movies are really, really bad and Clint Eastwood is a really, really bad actor in them. Because of these movies, I hate anything that Clint Eastwood touches. It may be unfair, but I'm judgemental like that. That same factor applies to good, though. After I saw "Ghostdog," I was absolutely interested in anything starring Forrest Whittaker. This type of grudge-holding (positive feelings or negative feelings) does not just apply to movies, but is rather a pattern I see in other areas of my life besides movies. It could be seen as a weakness, but it could also be seen as an old fashioned character trait called "loyalty." Even Clint Eastwood would appreciate that.

Candiru on Oprah and Interdenominational Chatter

I had a terrific Memorial Day weekend! It was a mix of spending time outside, enjoying friends, spending time with Mr. D, and catching up on some work. I went to a few BBQ's, and had some interesting conversations. Among them, we discussed the existence of a "penis" fish, which was backed up by the phrase, "it was on Oprah!" On agreed intent to google, I found out today that it really refers to the Brazilian candiru fish, which IS totally attracted to urine. My bad! Also of note was some discussion on the Lucumi religion, Buddhist meditation, and organizing social justice campaigns for the UCC.

Mr. D and I biked up to Evanston under the clouds on Saturday, and went to my favorite bead store. And this cool store too to look at rocks and geodes. I shared meals on Sunday with some different girlfriends, and even did some jewelry making. I'll try to post a picture soon of my latest beadation!

Job 2: 3 More Sessions, Job 1: 39 days and Counting

I am going to work my second job today, after my first job. I have been doing this job, recording meeting minutes for suburban public meetings, for five years! Not only is that a very long time commitment, but it also a very long time to have two jobs. I think the first 4 months out of college I had one job. Since then (2002), I've had at least two!

The extra money has been really nice, and I've felt that I've needed it. Over the years they have been flexible about the time and the deadlines of the projects. But still, as my days at my full time job dwindle (39 days!) I am really looking forward to a change of pace. And to doing something different. And to only having one job for a little while. Yes!

In other news, I am planning a road trip to North Carolina in June to try to find an apartment. My awesome friend and Piscean sister, Meghan, is coming on the road trip as well. I hope to make some appointments before I go to see some places, and also to make a few fun stops on the way. Memphis? Nashville? Ashville? Indianapolis? These are all possible stops on the way to my new intellectual paradise.

Headscarf Hands-Free

This morning on the train I saw a twist on the "hands-free" cell phone thing. Honestly, it was so distracting! There was a Muslim woman who seemed to me a more *liberal* type of Muslim, which I am basing (in my ignorance) solely on her clothing choices. She was wearing a green headscarf with embroidery and beading, and a bright magenta shirt. She also was talking on a cell phone. She had her big ole cell phone pressed against her ear, tucked into her headscarf so she didn't have to hold it. It was convenient and somewhat practical, I suppose. But it was still weird. I wanted to take a picture with my camera phone, but I thought that might be disrespectful.

After my previous post, I was thinking about street corner preachers. What type of message would I actually be interested in or identify with from a street corner preacher? I decided that rather than a preacher railing on about cigarettes or weed or Doritos, I'd rather that he publicly condemned the people on the bike path that let their dogs drink out of the water fountains THAT ARE MEANT FOR PEOPLE. That would be awesome.

"Bring a water dish for your dogs, good people of Chicago, or you are going straight to hell!"

Don't Curse My Doritos

State Street in Chicago is apparently an informal entrepreneur's paradise. Last week I was walking around on a weekday after 5 p.m. On every corner, someone was trying to exchange something - change for beer, religious pamphlets, hip-hop CDs. The religious pamphlets were especially notable - I probably saw 4 different people handing them out between Van Buren and Monroe Streets.

There are different types of pamphleteers. There is the guy who lurks and just slides the pamphlet into your path as you walk by, there's the friendly pamphleteer, and an aggressive one. Then there are the street preachers giving their messages. There's one guy who always stands in front of Old Navy with an amp and a microphone, talking about the dangers of weed and cigarettes. At least I get him. A few streets down on this particular day there was another street corner preacher. As I walked by him, I caught an earful of him cursing Doritos. Doritos? Is that really necessary? I mean, nutrition is a serious issue but I don't think it's serious enough to take Doritos to task on the street corner. You know?

"Bitch, crazy." And How AC/DC Provided Me A Slice of Heaven

I used to work with teenagers for my job. One day, I told one of them, "The one thing I wished that someone would have told me in high school is that some people are just crazy." After I said it, I wasn't sure that my sentiment really translated to anyone else besides myself. But it took me awhile to learn that in the working world because I tend to internalize a good deal of problems or situations and try immediately to solve all kinds of problems that don't belong to me. Realizing that a lot of times that it wasn't about me and that I should just let go was a helpful lesson. So professors and parents and mentors out there, please tell your kids, "Kids - some bitches are crazy! And you can't really control that."

This past weekend I went to an AC/DC concert, put on by kids from Paul Green's School of Rock Music. It was the most fantastic show that I've seen in awhile. Little kids rocked guitar solos, banged on the drums, and screamed into the microphone. A little 11-year-old girl sang, "Highway to Hell" and it was absolutely precious and hilarious. The kids were having such a great time, and the moms were too as they slurped down Michelob lights at 1 p.m. on Saturday afternoon and "Whooo-" ed their kids. It was ferocious fun, and felt great to support a cool music program for kids. You can catch another fabulous show on May 19, when these little rockers will be performing Led Zepplin tunes. Don't miss it!

What's In Your Party Wardrobe? A Set of Horns?

I ran into my downstairs neighbor today at the train stop. She is finishing grad school at the Art Institute and was talking about her job search. She went to a job fair in New York, where she said she interviewed with a lot of intimidating art people.

"You know, Orlan?" she asked.
"No," I said.
"Well, she reconstructed her face with plastic surgery and gave herself horns. Her hair is like 'Bride of Frankenstein'. And I sat across from her at the job fair and was all, 'I do landscapes.'" (She said this with total embarassment.)
I said, "Well, it sounds like it was hard to take her seriously!"
I should have said: "It sounds like you dodged a bullet!"

Another friend of mine recently (around X-mas) was arrested for biking with a keg while he was dressed up like Santa. And, he's Jewish.

Enough said about that.

Finally, I broke my Frankenstomach frankenfast of two days without coffee. I realized that I was just too out of it without the caffeine. However, I decided that I'm not allowed to drink coffee on the train. I spilled on my pants (dry clean only), my sweater (white), and my fake zebra skin iPod cover. Mostly, I was concerned about the fake zebra skin - you can't wash that shit! But much to my surprise, fake zebra skin absorbs coffee without a trace. Who knew? Note to self: incorporate more fake zebra skin into polyester-stocked party wardrobe.

Frankenstomach

I've been suffering from a mild flu-bug/stress stomach over the past couple of days. This frankenstomach has no friends, and friends of the special sort that I seem to favor - namely - cheese, coffee, caramel, and spicy foods. Boo! I mean, how much chicken soup and yogurt can one person eat?!?! Both the frankenstomach and the modified diet makes a grumpy Miz M indeed.

All news is not bad though - I had a lovely weekend. I spent a ton of time outside, riding my bike, rollerblading, reading books outside with Mr. D. - I even grilled burgers and veggies in my special marinade. Spring in Chicago is lovely and manic and good.

Spring Shine

Rode my bike to work for the first time in 2007 - !
The temperature was great for riding - sunny, 50s, and no breeze. I saw the usual excitement - some dude repainting a fence along the lake for the park district - with no shirt and some shorts! Someone is ready for summer - haaaaay! (But, hello? It's 50 degrees?)

It takes me an hour to ride my bike to work - an hour! While that is a great workout, and allows me to consume insane quantities of Chinese food at lunch, it can also be pretty tedious and tiring. While trying to plan alternate routes due to "three-track" construction (end result: same commute with a reason to leave work early sometimes...) I discovered a CTA/bicycle hybrid route to work. However, the whole maneuver of putting one's bike on the bicycle rack on the front of the bus seems slightly intimidating. I ordered a flyer from the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation so I can study it before my attempt. But if that works out, maybe I can get to work without sore legs and sweating profusely!

This weekend I plan on getting my tan on, vegging out by the lake, and possibly drinking some beers. I'm going out to celebrate my cousins' birthdays, and spending some time with Mr. D. It's called Spring, and that's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

Da Good Vibes

It's spring, and it seems like a lot is happening with everyone with the (slow) increase in temperature and (occasional) appearance of sunshine.

A couple items to note:

- a good friend of mine is having some relatively major/minor surgery today so send "da good vibes" to her

- spent the weekend in my hometown catching up with people and hanging out with my parents. I got a good long motorcycle ride in with my dad, which was fantastic. I really love riding on the back of a motorcycle because I always notice things more clearly - the pattern of the clouds, the sparkles on the river, the quintessential craggly tree on the edge of a farm field. It seems odd to appreciate nature so much from a roaring, speeding motorcycle, but it really is rejuvenating to me

- finally, as an homage to my impending life change, I'd like to note some daily details that may reveal my mixed feelings on the subject. Chalk one up for the pro-leaving side: the one working elevator in my office building has a pee stain in it

Pasta Version of "Loaves and Fishes"

It feels like a Friday, as the days of the week are stretching out endlessly into the cold weather and cloudy spring. I ate another meal of the pasta version of "loaves and fishes" - a pasta dish I prepared with Mr. D for dinner on Saturday night, along with our Easter foods of mac & cheese and cupcakes. I am only reminded of the neverending food of the "loaves & fishes" because I cooked the entire box of pasta, and the zucchini/pasta leftovers have created a seemingly endless number of meals since.

This week, I saw my old housemate from my study abroad tour in Barcelona! I was apprehensive (as we hadn't seen each other in six years!) but we had a fantastic time. We had a lot to talk about - grad school, travelling, boyfriends, world religions - and I felt both a sense of continuity of the past as well as looking brightly ahead into the future.

There's A Broke-Ass Fridge Too

Remember the "Fridge Smellification Committee" that I started at work?

Well, here is an email regarding the state of our broke-ass fridge sent by one of my colleagues at work today. I'm glad to see that my legacy will carry on after I leave my job.
-----------------------

Esteemed colleagues:

The refridgerator REEKS. Please take a minute to clear out anything that is yours and past the point of tolerable smellification levels. Don't think you have anything in there that's smelly?... That is probably why it smells so bad. For the sake of those of whose offices are situated within close olfactory range of the fridge, check it even if you think you are not at fault.

I thank you. The now delicate state of my smellification system thanks you.

xxxxxxx

Oh behalf of all those offended

Broke-ass Building

I'm not talking about moola, no, but rather my office building. The building where I work is "ghetto" as we used to say in my high school. The building is probably over 50% vacant, probably because nothing works, especially the elevators. I mentioned the "elevator creeps" in a previous post, but right now the biggest creeps are the building managers and building owner. Out of four public elevators, only one has been working most days. And by "working", I mean you still take your life in your hands - mental clanking and pinging, elevators that don't stop on certain floors, or ALWAYS stop on certain floors (floor 9) because one of the call buttons is broken. They have someone coming in to "fix" the elevators just about every other day and they still never work. It's ridiculous.

As if that wasn't enough, everything inside our office is broken too. We haven't had a copier or printer for at least two weeks. Or a postage meter. I have outdated postcard stamps hidden in my desk (23 cents) and can make essential copies of letters on the fax machine. Letterhead? Forget it! I'll just draw our logo on some legal paper. It's too bad that mental telepathy isn't more widespread because that sure would save a lot of hassle to just be able to mentally copy and fax this stuff instead of getting so frustrated with this crappy junk that doesn't work.

The New Bikini Wireless

Things have calmed down a bit at the end of the week - thank goodness! I've had to adjust my commute, my work environment, and my work projects for the next few months all this week. Damn! Now I'm mentally adjusting to my new routine (or the idea thereof) which has given me some ideas on how to make my *last* summer in Chicago a lot more fun.

I'll be doing a lot of writing for the next few months for work and so I think I may have to set up a satellite office... hmm, maybe on North Avenue beach! Huzzah! Bikini Wireless! Suntan report. Can I write about water quality while drinking margaritas???

So I made the official annoucement today at lunch. Surprisingly, my eyes welled up with tears - I guess I still have some mixed feelings about leaving Chicago. But, it is a huge relief to have it out in the open now and not have to worry all the time about being discreet about my plans. Phew.

The Cat Will Soon Be Out of the Bag!

I have decided to go to graduate school in North Carolina. Hooray! I'm happy with my decision, and now feel I can go about life for the next four months at least at peace with my next move in life. Phew! My family and many of my friends now know, and I make the official announcement today to my coworkers. I'm sure it will cause some degree of hub-bub, but hey -

On to other things -
I've had to adjust my commute this week because of the crazy broke-*ss CTA, but it hasn't been so bad. I've been able to make up some interesting stories about those folks that ride the Blue Line from Bucktown, and I find that commuting on hours that are slightly off have made it bearable.

Easter is coming up and I'm planning to rock a purple church hat on Sunday. I just wish I had some gloves to really pull off the church lady look. Oh well - it'll be freezing cold anyway so dress gloves would maybe have to be tossed for snow gloves anyway.