Tuesday, December 23, 2008

the getaway


We escaped the horrid cold just in time. We're relaxing in A.'s lovely parent's house in N.C. where I can turn off my brain for a while and attempt to de-stress. The only difficult thing, is that I'm finding it so hard to get any work done here. I just want to forget about work for a while and veg out, watch TV, eat lots of food, and enjoy the environs.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

it's about time

How has it taken 8 years for someone to chuck their shoes at president Bush? I imagine the impulse must be irresistible when he's standing right in front of you.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

snake stick



I found this snake stick while walking on the beach at Bolinas, CA with my good friend Jessica. I thought it was a snake at first, but it was just a snake stick. I smuggled it back to Chicago. The winter, which has only just begun, makes time move like molasses. Walking on a California beach seems like a memory from a lifetime ago, or maybe a dream, the snake stick reminds me that it was real.

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

what a day!

CHICAGO – Federal authorities arrested Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich Tuesday on charges that he brazenly conspired to sell or trade the Senate seat left vacant by President-elect Barack Obama to the highest bidder.

Full story here.

Monday, December 08, 2008

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

joy

This morning, we spent a good 20 minutes scraping ice off the car with a broken kitchen spatula.

A neighbor looked upon us with pity and disbelief, then got an ice-scraper out of his trunk for us to borrow.

Monday, December 01, 2008

o.m.g.

get me out of this city.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

it's snowing


It's snowing. It has snowed already in Chicago this year, but for some reason this feels like the first snow. My California cat is curled up into himself waiting out another winter, probably wondering what the hell he is doing here, instead of napping under the Berkeley lemon tree he liked so much. Now in our Chicago apartment, when the sun makes its rare appearance, desperate for some rays, he stretches out on the window sill trying to get a winter tan.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

joe onions

From the November 20th Providence Journal...

Body of Slain Mobster Unearthed in Riverside
The Rhode Island State Police yesterday unearthed what they believe are the remains of Joseph P. “Joe Onions” Scanlon, the onetime hood, police informant and victim of an infamous Rhode Island gangland slaying.

Half-Irish and half-Italian, Scanlon grew up in Hartford’s South End, then a predominantly Italian neighborhood of working-class families, tidy houses, corner markets and bakeries. Scanlon grew up to be a short-order cook at various Hartford restaurants.

Scanlon went to Providence, then the center of the New England rackets under Raymond L.S. Patriarca, and fell into a life of crime. But it all ended abruptly on April 3, 1978, with a bullet through the skull.

He had a winning personality, the family friend said, “and wasn’t so bad looking.” He was Joe Onions, she said, “because he made the girls cry.”

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

chicago baby

I met a little baby today. She was absolutely beautiful and made these really funny faces and weighs all of 6 pounds. As I was riding the CTA to work, staring out the window on all the brick and cement and hard surfaces, trying to wrap my head around Chicago, I almost can't imagine a delicate baby born in this city so indifferent–which is the one word I pick to represent Chicago. It's just too precarious a way to start off a new life.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

spain...on the road again

Slowly I've built my Sunday around "Spain...On the Road Again." I stumbled upon it once, and now it's part of my Sunday schedule. If you haven't seen it, it's about four people traveling around Spain gorging themselves on food and talking about it. The four people happen to be food writer Mark Bittman of the NYTimes (and the author of How to Cook Everything), chef Mario Batali, Gwyneth Paltrow, and a very beautiful Spanish actress, Claudia Bassols.

The show reminds me of a fantastic meal I had in Barcelona with three friends. We stumbled upon a tiny restaurant in the old part of the city, which was out of this world. We had fresh grilled calamari (the chef grilled the calamari in front of us) and these amazing potato tapas things with hot hot hot sauce. It was amazing. And the entire dinner cost like twenty bucks (this was before the dollar's decline.) I've never been able to get that meal out of my mind. But, now I can relive its essence every Sunday. How indulgent and utterly perfect it would be to travel around, primarily to eat. I can't help thinking, what an amazing gig, how the hell did they pitch this show?

Monday, November 17, 2008

a gate works both ways

As reported by Access Hollywood: Some of the rich people living in the Montecito, California mansions threatened by the most recent fire were stuck inside their gated compounds because their electric gates would not open.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

exquisite city



Today I went to the "Exquisite City" art show at the Viaduct Theater. A bunch of artists were asked to dream up a city block... the creations were then put together to make a "city." The exhibit was mostly comprised of miniatures and dioramas made out of cardboard - it was quite lovely.

There's something so fantastic about little things. I used to collect miniature chairs. One of the finest presents ever given to me was a miniature 70s sofa, presumably from a doll house.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

you're still beautiful

This was the scene in San Francisco when I arrived:

Hundreds of people were lounging in Dolores Park enjoying the sunshine. Bikes were strewn across the park, tossed aside by their riders who were laying in the grass laughing with friends. I walked through the mission and crowds of people were strolling through closed-off alleys taken over by music festivals, block parties, and really free markets. The air was clear, and electric, and full of possibility; as if the entire city was celebrating a secret holiday. It was like one of Mona Caron's murals.

I was amazed because everyone looked so damn happy. Giddiness, joyfulness, dreaminess, hung like ornaments in the air. I stood in Dolores Park laughing, because it seemed like a farce. A joke. A bad joke. That here in this city, was joyful life–like I had not seen in a long time–like out of a story book. Yet, I knew this was an aberration, and that often San Francisco is cold and foggy and things can feel hopeless here too, just like anywhere. But where I live now – in gray, sullen Chicago is such a stark contrast, that I had to laugh at the fates. And the realization of what I had walked away from. Beautiful San Francisco.

Monday, November 10, 2008

the old me


How can a person live without this view? To glimpse something so large that it can not be fully grasped makes it easy to slough off the tiny everyday problems that weigh us down. I was thrilled to be back in the bay area for a little while. I drank up the sunshine and the ocean, and I re-visited some friends I hadn't seen in a long time. When unpacking my bag, the few things I brought back smelled like incense, and I thought, somehow the tie-dyed witchy lady in Bolinas, slipped some magic into my bag, because I suddenly felt like the old me.

Sunday, November 09, 2008

score


I scored these cowboy boots on my birthday at a clothing swap at someone else's birthday party. I've always wanted cowboy boots.

Saturday, November 08, 2008

backyard chickens and horse mugs

It was incredibly dreary today. Dark and really cold. We spent the morning warm inside a church basement taking a workshop on backyard chickens. There were a couple of live chickens there clucking away. You can raise two basic kinds of chickens: "layers" for eggs, and "broilers" for meat. I was surprised when one of the first questions was "Can you eat the layers once they stop laying?" Apparently, they are tough, so you can only use them for soup stock. Which seems a sad demise for a creature that has provided you with so much protein over its short egg-producing life.

The second part of the day was spent at The Sweden Shop and the Tre Kronor restaurant which was a birthday treat. I heart the Sweden Shop, it has all this Marimekko stuff which I can't afford, but love to look at. I did indulge in an imported Swedish "Dala" horse" mug–I used to have one of those small wooden horses as a child.

Friday, November 07, 2008

to twitter or not to twitter

I wonder if I should be using Twitter. How would I know what to twitter? How to weigh if something is important enough, or just the right amount of unimportant, yet funny, or amusing. Or not too funny and amusing, not enough to make it seem like you're trying way too hard to be funny and amusing. But, like you're naturally irreverently funny. Online writing is so stressful and full of really strange expectations. This blog gives me enough stress. I can't even make myself write about things that have happened lately that I think is important to note, like Paul Newman and Studs Terkel passing. Or the strange Obama-mania in Chicago. Online writing is not easy for naturally obsessive analytical self-conscious types, of which I am one.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

seafoamy soupy

Lately, I've been really liking the word "briny" and/or "brine"

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

obama's house

We drove by Obama's house the other day. Police are dispatched all around it, although I didn't think they looked alert enough. I want them to be on their toes.

In my dream yesterday, we were having dinner with the Obamas. Barack's hand did not work anymore, because it was too tired from shaking so many other hands during his campaign. It just hung useless by his side.

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

imperial men's clothing



I missed taking a picture of Imperial Men's Clothing before they took down the awesome sign, but I did find a photo of it on flickr with sign intact.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

...

So, so tired. I had an experience with the Tyra show today and it was super annoying. Her staff is super annoying. Just more proof that very incompetent people get high-paying jobs. I know Tyra's staff isn't ruling the world, they are just producing a TV show, and a not-so-good one at that. But I can't help feeling that Tyra's staff is a reminder that the world is in trouble; we are all in trouble.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

"eat the rich."

How's that for a buyout plan?

Saturday, September 20, 2008

the new economy


A. picked 5 bushels of apples (that's approx. 150 pounds of apples). They are sitting in our living room. A. has been using them to barter in the neighborhood. So far he's gotten 6 cassette tapes from the eighties, a piece of homemade apple pancake (made with said apples), and a lot of smiles and thank yous because the apples are quite good. There is an apple cobbler cooling on the stove as I write this.

Friday, September 19, 2008

painting and soul rebellion

I'm taking a painting class. Painting is good because words and numbers fall away. Normally, my day is full of specifics, amounts, statistics, particulars, it's nice to just be intuitive for a few hours. Painting allows me to quiet my obsession with accuracy and outcomes and all that humdrum office-type stuff.

It turns out there's a part of me that's been quiet for a long time. Normally, it is told to shut up while I'm busy doing administrative money-making work. When presented with paper and some paint it takes over. I was surprised that it has a lot to say, and is very upset about having been quiet for so long.

It's happened before, whenever I make myself do boring, meaningless work for too long. My soul has a mini-riot, it totally rebels, and I have to change my life to appease it. This is what led me to painting.

Monday, September 15, 2008

the island queen


Some things in life don't change. One of those things for me is the Island Queen.

One of my earliest memories is of riding the Island Queen ferry to Martha's Vineyard. I can easily recall its bright orange seats, the roar of the motor, the water spraying from the stern, I can even recall the particular boat smell that's like sea water mixed with, i dunno, some special Island Queen boat-scent.

When I take a ride on the Island Queen as an adult, it is exactly the same as I remember it. This ferry ride delights me, I get all goofy happy, not like me at all, it's like being transported to my childhood. It's a special thing, to find something that hasn't changed. That lives up to your memory.

And, the Island Queen has a song! This totally blew me away.
Island Queen Song

Saturday, September 13, 2008

the cape




We just got back from Cape Cod. We caught the tail end of summer, when it's warm enough to go to the beach, but there's a faint fall chill in the air. It's the perfect time to go, the tourists have gone home, it's quiet and peaceful. I love Cape Cod. It's where I spent my childhood and it's one of my favorite places ever. I breathe a little easier when I'm there, and I can't believe how beautiful it is.

Friday, September 12, 2008

how long will i have to wait

until Tina Fey does her impression of Sarah Palin?

Thursday, September 04, 2008

the difference is lipstick

I watched Huckabee, Guiliani, and Palin give their speeches last night on TV. I am truly awed by the scariness of many people in this country. I know there are lots of good folks, but honestly, we must look to the rest of the world like uneducated, uninformed crazy people. The scariest part was the entire convention chanting "drill baby drill." And Palin's mention about not reading people their rights?! Guantanamo Bay is and will be an embarrassing and shameful part of U.S. history and here is a woman saying that it is okay? Palin is scary.

I realize she was going for that "every woman, everyday person" vibe, but what happened to common sense and reason? She doesn't believe in birth control? yet she has a pregnant teenage daughter. (from the AP: "Palin has opposed funding sex-education programs in Alaska.") She is against national health care, yet she has a special needs infant? I'm frightened by how a woman like her in power could turn back the tide for basic human rights in this country, not to mention what her extreme right crazy views would do for our "national security." Especially considering that the odds of McCain surviving a full term in office are not so good.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

barbecues and their discontents

mayday mayday... too much pulled pork, potato salad, baked beans, beets, coleslaw, corn bread, and ice cream pie. the ship is sinking.

Friday, August 29, 2008

nascar or football?

In a few weeks I'll be visiting my brother in Kansas City. I have a choice of attending a NASCAR race or a football game. It's a tough decision, but I think football will win out. I have to admit that I was a Chief's fan for one season when I lived in K.C. in my early 20s. It was Joe Montana's last season. Compared to the Bear's depressing games since I've been living in Chicago, the 1994 Chief's games were high-quality entertainment.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

The Ex and Getatchew Mekuria

A few weeks ago we saw The Ex on tour with Getatchew Mekuria (a famous Ethiopian saxophone player) at the Logan Square Auditorium. It was an awesome show. We were with a bunch of people we knew, and everyone was dancing. Even the owners of the amazing Ethiopian restaurant in Uptown were there boogie-ing down. It was just so fun. Check out the amazing music:

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

class of '88 bloat fest

While I was in Wisconsin I was missing my 20 year high school reunion that was taking place in San Diego, California. Luckily, my best friend from high school attended and gave me a little update.

Apparently, most of the men are unrecognizable. It seems that they've all bloated up and lost their hair. It's a group bloat. The fact remains that women age better than men (only the patriarchy wants you to think it's actually the other way around).

I perused some reunion pictures that were posted online while sitting at my desk this morning and realized that I was never friends with anybody at the reunion. Few of them would remember me at all, except maybe as that weird girl they never talked to. Firstly, I wasn't that popular. Secondly, most of my actual friends didn't make it to this reunion - I mean 20 years is a long time.

Mostly the "golden children" (that's what we called the blonde popular rich kids) seem to keep in close contact with each other and show up faithfully at all reunions - since high school days were their glory days.

At my 10 year reunion, which I did attend, I kept thinking "Wow, I never really liked any of these people." It was like looking in on someone else's reunion, people smiling, laughing, slapping each other on the back, while I'm glowering in the corner – just like high school! The one consolation is that I've aged better than most, and I'm just guessing here, but I bet my life has been more interesting than most as well.

Still I'm fascinated with the reunion photos. I do remember most people. And even though I wasn't close friends with any of them, we do share a common background. It's comforting in a way to see these people from so long ago. And if you've read this blog for a while, you'll realize that I'm nostalgic about absolutely everything.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

beware the bus tour

I try not to bash the Midwest too much. I try not to let my natural negativity seep into this blog, because really blogging should be about discovering the wondrous in the everyday, right? Right??

Let's just say that my trip to Wisconsin was not exactly wondrous. I had to endure a large gathering of pot-bellied middle-aged men, neverending road construction, lots and lots of hay, wilted iceberg lettuce, and the pièce de résistance.... shag carpet wallpaper (the carpeted walls were pretty amazing actually, okay one point for the wiz).

In addition to the overabundance of pot bellies, the Wisconsin landscape doesn't do anything for me. It's depressing. Granted I have yet to visit northern Wisconsin, which is supposed to be quite lovely. But around Milwaukee and up a bit it is just blah, the sky is a dull gray, and even the lake is like soda gone flat.

The one highlight was stopping at the River West Food Coop in Milwaukee that sells local yarn and yummy food and where we crossed paths with a bus full of people traveling across the country (is everyone and their mom traveling in a bus this summer or what?). The people were part of the "White House Organic Farm Project", and they provided us with unexpected entertainment.

In the midst of our lovely organic lunch, two members of the tour went at each other like, well... like two people who've been stuck on a bus together for too long. It was hard to suppress giggles as the two men got into a loud disagreement about nothing except that they were obviously sick to death of each other.

What people need to learn is.... being stuck on a bus with people is something to avoid at all costs. At all costs! If you've ever been on a bus tour, you know this in the core of your being, and you never forget it. I don't care what kind of good cause your bus tour is promoting.

Luckily no beheadings occurred at the Milwaukee "WhoFarmMobile" pit-stop (that would've ruined our lunch), but I'm afraid that the tour is not over yet... it's last stop is San Francisco!

Friday, August 22, 2008

going for fourth

The Olympics seem so unhealthy. Don't get me wrong, I am awed by the graceful ease with which some athletes perform, but I object to the massive pressure these people are under and the spectacle that we create for them. It is all about winning. It's all about a one-time performance.

How sad for someone to train for years, only to fail. To have one day of their lives define their whole being. It takes only a few seconds to become absolutely ruined. There is no after, it was all for that moment, so if you fuck up, you are a fuck up.

What kind of horrible lesson is that? It seems sad and unbalanced and lonely to be an olympic athlete. It's so similar to the competition and public humiliation featured on most reality TV shows - we're obsessed with the winners, but mostly we're obsessed with the losers.

We watch the Olympics to see superhuman feats of athleticism, but we also watch for the tears as someone breaks down with fury and shame when they come in 2nd or 3rd (or god forbid 4th). We watch to see someone broken.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

me and little andy

If this Dolly Parton video doesn't give you the heebie-jeebies, then I don't know what will (make sure you watch it until she uses the little girl voice - ahhh! Scares me every time.)

wonderful wisconsin


Living in the Midwest means that I go places I never thought I would ever go, such as Wisconsin. I don't remember ever once considering Wisconsin when I lived in California, well, because there wasn't much reason to. Sadly, (and quite embarrassingly) I probably wouldn't have even been able to point out WI on a map.

This weekend I'm going to Wisconsin for a few days because Wisconsin is one of those places people who live in Chicago go away to every once in a while. I assure you there are good things in Wisconsin such as access to the magical and mythical Lake Superior and of course the Kohler wall of toilets (pictured above).

Saturday, August 16, 2008

emma


Emma Goldman is buried close to Voltairine de Cleyre. Visiting her grave was like being introduced to my favorite celebrity. I couldn't believe that she is actually buried there, it just didn't seem real. And Emma had once visited Voltairine's grave as well as the Haymarket Martyrs' monument nearby which means that she actually stood right there on that piece of earth.

Emma was an inspiring woman. Her autobiography Living My Life is amazing, reading it will give you a sense of her strength, passion, and her love of life; it also details the political situation at that time which was quite exciting. She traveled all over the U.S. speaking, she was a major influence. She spoke out against the Russian revolution when it was not cool to do so within the movement. Most importantly, she had integrity, and strongly held beliefs that she communicated brilliantly.

I also very much respect how candidly she wrote about her human weaknesses. In the book, she writes plainly about her naive beginnings, her doubt about the anarchist ideal, her disappointment with the movement, and her petty romantic dramas.

I always thought there should be a film made about her, just her, not her as a side character like in Reds (although I loved Maureen Stapleton in that role), but a whole movie about her life, because it was a juicy one and she is such a fantastic role model. Oh Emma, if only there were someone like you now.

Friday, August 15, 2008

the indecencies of continuous close communion


For his birthday A. wanted to go to the Forest Park cemetery to visit the radical's graves. Voltairine de Cleyre, a not-widely known anarchist writer and speaker is buried there. As a feminist, Voltairine's poetry and writing is often critical of marriage, to the degree that I often find quite funny. She makes a passionate case not only against marriage, but also for not spending too much time with your beloved in her essay "They Who Marry Do Ill":

Nowadays I would say that I prefer to see a marriage based purely on business considerations, than a marriage based on love. That is not because I am in the least concerned with the success of the marriage, but because I am concerned with the success of love. And I believe that the easiest, surest and most applicable method of killing love is marriage --marriage as I have defined it. I believe that the only way to preserve love in anything like the ecstatic condition which renders it worthy of a distinctive name --otherwise it is either lust or simply friendship --is to maintain the distances. Never allow love to be vulgarized by the indecencies of continuous close communion. Better to be in familiar contempt of your enemy than the one you love.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

living with merle


We have this cat named Merle. He will wake up whoever is sleeping on the left side of the bed by tapping you with his paw, usually on your face. Even though he's annoying, he's not as annoying as our other cat who obsessively rips up pieces of paper in the middle of the night, which leaves me wondering if I've mistakenly left something irreplaceable out, like my passport or an un-cashed check. It's as if we're just here for their amusement.

Monday, August 11, 2008

another thing about asheville

Another thing about Asheville is that it's haunted. Maybe it's something about being in a mountain valley, maybe spirits get stuck there. It's not like you are walking around seeing ghosts all the time. But, you can feel them. There is heavy history hanging in the air. A bit like New Orleans. It reminds me of a wonderful passage from Dylan's memoir Chronicles about New Orleans:

The past doesn't pass away so quickly here. You could be dead for a long time. The ghosts race towards the light, you can almost hear the heavy breathing - spirits, all determined to get somewhere...

A lazy rhythm looms in the dreamy air and the atmosphere pulsates with bygone duels, past-life romance, comrades requesting comrades to aid them in some way. You can't see it, but you know it's there.

So much has happened in those mountains of North Carolina. Native Americans attacked and finally driven off on their trail of tears. Settlers attacked by Native Americans before the final blow. Civil war rivalries galore, since this area of the country was bitterly divided. I'm sure all sorts of tragedies, hard times, and memories have occurred since those colorful long ago times too. Histories building upon themselves. There are certain places that hang on to the past more than others, and Asheville is one.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

The French Broad River



It's true that Asheville is a good 5-6 hour drive from the coast, which makes it farther from the ocean than I'm comfortable with, but it does have a river–the French Broad river. We spent a few days in a cabin by the river and had our coffee on its bank each morning.

The river differs depending on where you encounter it. The French Broad by our cabin was a lazy swirl of a river, with a gentle flow, mucky bottom and curves. The river gets more broad, and more choppy in parts and it sometimes floods, badly. It has a history of being unpredictable which made the upper French Broad a poor choice for river traffic despite people really wanting to build river ports on it back in the day. It's a stubborn river.

There's places in the city to spend time by the river such as a walking/jogging/biking trail that runs along it. Asheville also has a dilapidated industrial corridor that has transformed into the "river arts district." It's comprised of faded old warehouses converted into artist spaces and galleries. The river has an overgrown swampy feel to it here with (still active) train tracks running alongside it.

The sun likes to twinkle on the French Broad river, and near sunset it becomes a hazy glow through the trees. Birds also love the river. Each morning a white crane would silently and slowly flap its wings flying right above the water from one bend of the river to the other. It was spectacularly graceful. As we sat outside with our coffee, we joked that we were witnessing his morning commute.

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

not from here or there


We're back from North Carolina.

Just in time to experience an abnormally violent Chicago storm. Last night I thought a tornado was going to touch down. It was hailing, lightning, thunder, rain and wind like you wouldn't believe. Today, a woman told me that she grabbed her family photos off the wall and hid in the basement. I just closed my eyes and hoped it would go away. It was like the end of the world. But it wasn't.

North Carolina seemed tame compared to last night. We didn't encounter any southern thunder storms. But, it's a spooky land. We spent most of our time in Asheville. A beautiful town up there in the mountains. More about that later.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

harry is not feeling well :(

Spotted this unhappy dinosaur/alligator in front of the Wilmington Harris Teeter grocery store.

the bat man

In Wilmington now, and we saw The Dark Knight last night. Why does everyone think that movie is so great? Writing was eh, plot was wanting. Even the action scenes were often too convoluted to follow.

Is it that I can't enjoy action films anymore, or are they getting progressively worse? Does T2 hold up over time (one of my favorites), or is it a genre that speaks only to adolescent adrenaline?

And what about this suggestion from Rush Limbaugh that Batman is representing an unfairly criticized GW Bush? No doubt it had a lot of themes taken from recent headlines, but a strict interpretation of Batman as Bush seems reaching. I thought if anything, the movie warned of becoming what you are apparently fighting against. And wow, I hardly ever listen to Rush Limbaugh, but I did once I landed in North Carolina and, OMG, what the heck, do people really take him seriously? He said so many things not based in reality that I lost count.

Christian Bales's recent personal drama peaks my interest, and made Batman a bit more enjoyable. His is a beleaguered persona. A bunch of tension and anger just beneath the surface makes him such an interesting actor, with a strange monotone voice. It seems like he has a tragedy lurking in his background, which this recent episode with his mother and sister appears to confirm, and this just interests me more. If you like Christian Bale, you may want to rent Harsh Times in which he plays an Iraq War vet. The movie is not so good and incredibly disturbing, but his performance will haunt you.

And Heath Ledger, no one can deny that we lost a great one there. I always thought his performance in Brokeback Mountain was one of the best ever. His performance as the Joker was also first rate, It's a shame that his last movie, The Dark Knight didn't turn out better.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

adventure

We're going on an adventure tomorrow to North Carolina. That's all I can divulge for now.

Watch this Scott H. Biram video of Woody Guthries' "Pastures of Plenty" in honor of Scott playing at the Empty Bottle tonight.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

composting toilet



This is a picture of the composting toilet at the farm, and the view through its window looking out on the cornfields. There is something about cornfields that is super creepy, I think I never shook off The Children of the Corn.

Now that the over-abundance of corn is wreaking havoc on our food system and our bodies there is a real-life reason to be afraid of corn. Even though most U.S. residents are mostly made of corn now (like this quote from a biologist to Michael Pollan: "When you look at the isotope ratios, [U.S. residents] are corn chips with legs" ), I just can't separate Stephen King from the corn.

I would never ever walk through a corn field or a corn maze which I imagine would become a nightmare scene like the ice maze in The Shining.

For more on the scariness of corn check out this Grist article about Michael Pollan.

what kind of state are you in?

Overheard today in the Chicago, Illinois DMV:

"The state is a pi–mp!"

Friday, July 18, 2008

fred hampton's bed


Today I found out that Fred Hampton's bed, the one he was murdered in, is in the basement of the building in which I work. This is why some people claim that he haunts this building. I maintain that if it is Fred Hampton's ghost it would definitely be more vocal because he was an amazing orator. Although I am inclined to think that that bed carries with it some strong energy. Imagine, this piece of history tucked away just a few floors below. It's not in a museum, it is not a shrine, it just waits below in an old building as state's evidence while life goes on up above.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

lost dog dutches


I keep asking myself if this dog is actually named Dutchess. Because I've never heard of a dog named Dutches before, and like A. pointed out, people in Chicago do like to spell things phonetically.

I do hope Dutches finds his or her way home. Unfortunately, odds are that someone picked the little doggie up to be pitbull bait.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Geoghegan is my hero

There was a fantastic interview with Thomas Geoghegan, a Chicago-based lefty lawyer, on the local radio station WBEZ this morning. What was so great is that Geoghegan is able to boil down what is wrong with this country in a ten minute interview. I implore you to give it a listen: here

He talks about the deregulation of the credit card industry, and its effect on our debt-ridden society, linking it with increased litigation. He also breaks down how the U.S. is not a direct democracy, and hence we are very unlike other countries because we do not have one person, one vote. He actually puts current issues into context (!) and he's written several books: Which Side Are You On? Trying to Be for Labor When It's Flat on Its Back, and his latest: See You in Court: How the Right Made America a Lawsuit Nation.

He's smart, well-spoken, and he connects today's problems with policy decisions made in the past and with weaknesses inherent in our government's structure, he helps to alleviate our collective amnesia, and for these reasons he makes me happy.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

i love not having roommates

I was just thinking about how great it is to not have any roommates. I mean, I do live with my significant other, but he's kind of like an extension of myself so that doesn't really count.

Once I lived in this big yellow house in Oakland with three roommates and one bathroom. The kicker was that one roommate lived in a little sunroom on the other side of the bathroom. So, you had to walk through the bathroom to get to her room, and while you were in the bathroom, you hoped she wouldn't walk through.

That's what happens in a tight housing market, strange co-housing situations. One friend of mine lived under a staircase. I'm not exaggerating; she lived in a tiny closet under a staircase; quite happily I might add.

One guy I dated had a room barely wide enough for an old futon mattress to just fit. When we first started dating, he only had a foam mattress, the kind you take camping. Charming.

Though, I've had my share of grandiose bedrooms, like the room with 13 foot ceilings, parquet floors, a marble fireplace and bay windows from which you could see the San Francisco Bay. Rent control, sigh. I was always pretty lucky with my housing situations.

Chicago does have cheap rent going for it. After living in the Bay Area I couldn't believe the Chicago rents, it was like shopping in a dollar store. I never thought I'd live in a one-bedroom apartment as nice as the one I live in now–and honestly, this apartment doesn't compare to the beautiful vintage places most of my friends live in.

It's funny how you get accustomed to sharing living space in odd situations such as the sunroom/bathroom situation. In a city like San Francisco, some part of your brain registers scarcity of housing as "I'm so lucky to live here." And then you come to the inevitable question "Why the heck am I living here?"

Sunday, July 13, 2008

intelligentsia tour





This weekend we went on a tour of the Intelligentsia coffee roasting facility. This was on the Chicago bucket list– a list that A. graciously made up of urban things to do before we say goodbye to Chicago. Because someday we may miss this urban decay of a city.

I have to admit, the tour was kind of cool. Intelligentsia is a local Chicago coffee roaster- they sell wholesale but they also have cafés (several in Chicago, and one in L.A.).

We arrived at the nondescript door of the facility and stepped inside to a lovely aroma-filled open warehouse. There are stacks of large bags full of coffeee, three huge coffee roasters, and nice natural light. Everyone got jacked up on the sample coffee available before the tour.

The coffee roasters are slick. The whole process is pretty much done by these large machines, which look like custom cars, or large versions of those beautifully colored vintage mixers/blenders that everyone has in their kitchens nowadays.

The humans are in charge of monitoring the temperature and rate of roast, and constantly checking the color of the beans - they start out green, turn yellow, orange, then dark brown (atleast the columbian roast did this.) The way the coffee roaster person handled the roaster reminded me of how a projectionist relates to his/her projector. The machine becomes your companion and you can identify every sound that comes from it as language that you've learned to interpret.

Everyone on the tour gets to take home a 1/2 pound of the coffee that was just roasted. Mmmmmmmm. Yum.

One thing A. and I discussed as we walked home, was how beneficial Intelligentsia's "direct trade" practices were as opposed to "fair trade." Apparently, by cutting out the middle man (in this case the fair trade coffee regulatory body) they are able to give farmers better prices. However there is no hard proof of this, because they are not part of the fair trade group, hence the problem. A. likened this to benefiting from a system that you're not supporting. I'm unclear on the workings of fair trade, so I'm abstaining from a position, but I'm a bit suspicious of the claims of direct trade, which must result in higher profits for the company.

Anyways, it was nice to see another part of the city and to explore a local business. As we walked back up Damen to catch the Blue Line, we marveled at all the ugly condos that are still waiting for some real estate boom to happen. When they demolished the Horner projects, developers must've thought the area would instantly become hip. For now, the area is a strange neighborhood made up of mostly cement block buildings in a "SoMa-esque" area of Chicago.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

italian beef

Saturday, July 05, 2008

sin in the second city


I just finished reading Sin in the Second City by Karen Abbott. The book is about two madams, Ada and Minna Everleigh who ran the famous Chicago brothel, the Everleigh Club. Abbott also details the religious reformers' fight to shut down the club and Chicago's "vice" district, then called the Levee. Besides enjoying a colorful depiction of early 1900s Chicago, I learned a few historical tidbits.

At the time, there was hysteria about "white slavery" which is what nowadays we would call sex trafficking. There were stories abounding of young girls kidnapped from Europe and brought to the U.S. to work in brothels. Also at risk were young women from rural U.S. towns who were duped by big city men promising marriage. From what I gather, these things did happen although they were often exaggerated by religous social reformers for various nefarious and not so nefarious reasons.

Just last month I noticed a news article about a huge prostitution bust. The last sentence of the article struck me because it uses the word slavery to describe the situation just like they did in the book: "These kids are victims. This is 21st century slavery," Allen said. "They lack the ability to walk away." (you can read the article Here)

Yes, technically, many underage boys and girls in the sex trade are pretty much slaves. But, I do find the usage of the term odd, especially back in the 1900s when the slavery of African American people was a very recent memory, and I believe calling it 'slavery,' especially qualifying it as "white slavery," inescapably has some racist undertones, especially back in the day. (This in no way means that I am belittling the horrendous global sex trade that boys and girls are victims of)

Another interesting thing I learned from the book is how prostitutes at the time where generally seen as victims in need of rescue. And how later, society began to blame them; as they began to be seen as dirty and immoral much like the present. Now prostitutes take the blame and are more likely to be arrested and charged than a john, a pimp, or a madam.

Another thing to consider was the passage of the Mann Act or the White Slave Trade Act which banned the interstate transport of females for “immoral purposes.” Check wikipedia for more here. Unsurprisingly, the Mann Act ended up being used disproportionately against African American men and it has often been used to prosecute men for having sex with underage women (taken from wikipedia.)

One thing I'm glad that Abbbott pointed out in her book was that as a result of the "white slavery era" the Illinois State Assembly in 1913 investigated the link between prostitution and wages; they actually put department stores like Sears on the stand which resulted in Illinois passing some of the first minimum wage laws. Let's here it for treating the cause of the problem, not the symptoms, if only that happened more often in the U.S.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

yard sale find


It's our new old table. Our neighbor said 50, we said 35, he said 40, we said fine.

Monday, June 30, 2008

my favorite beastie in the news

Adam Yauch has always been my favorite Beastie Boy. He's a bassist, skateboarder, snowboarder, buddhist, and a documentary filmmaker–how cool is all that. He directed a lot of the Beastie Boys' videos, some of them hilarious, and others are lovely grainy black and white jazzy things which I really like.

I was steered towards Buddhism through Yauch and his lyrics, at a time in my life when I really needed it. He continues to be an inspiration as a politically conscious documentary filmmaker. His new film is called "GUNNIN' FOR THAT #1 SPOT" (Check out the trailer here) it's about basketball and nyc, and apparently, it has also pissed off the Nestlé company. Nice.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

the farm




We went to the farm yesterday evening. It was a great respite from the city. It was much prettier than I was expecting, more trees than I thought there would be. There were goats, chickens, a farm cat and dog, and a composting toilet with a grand view of the cornfields next door. Fireflies lit up the field once the sun went down.

It reminded me of Northern California, especially because the last time I'd used a composting toilet with a nice view was on some friends' property near Arcata, which seems so long ago. But, also because there were people last night who talked of collectives and different ways of living.

One woman is about to embark on a cross-country tour to visit friends to see "what kind of life they are making." I like that phrase. It's so good to remember that we make our own lives. The one I would choose to make is different than how I'm living now. It would involve being in a collective, in a more rural environment, and truly creating things– community, art, media, writing, anything we could dream up. I'm at that point now–the one a lot of people I know have reached already.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

i left my heart...

I miss San Francisco. There's no doubt about it. Mostly, I don't think about it, but sometimes it's so acute I wonder if I should've left. I feel out of place in the Midwest, similar to when I moved to California as a kid–I just looked odd. As an adult you're not supposed to feel like you don't fit in, but it happens anyways.

I was eager to leave the bay, and I'm happy that I did. But still, sometimes, I remember how great it could be. This metropolis just doesn't seem filled with the same kind of crazy, dream-filled folks that SF attracts. Everyone has some fantastic idea that draws them to the bay, looking to create a life, cook up a plan, invent themselves, and most importantly, to make things right.

Some come to join a circus, lead a band, become a teacher, a journalist, a housing organizer, a puppet maker, a painter, an herbalist, a social worker, a pastry chef, an anarchist soccer player, an activist, a filmmaker, a poet, a gallery owner, a belly dancer, a bike mechanic, a hacker, a politician, a restaurant owner, a collective member, or all these things, but always something more than what they were.

I know the bay can be annoying, and overpriced, and cloistered, it's just that I'm sentimental about things that are gone. After all these years denying it, I can't escape that I'm truly a Californian now. Rather than returning to the West coast, Chicago is pushing me further east. But even on the East coast I feel more aligned. I miss the salt air like crazy, I'm a coastal kid at heart, that doesn't seem to change.

Monday, June 23, 2008

atonement

I saw Atonement over the weekend. More than anything, it was a feast for the eyes, yet it missed its mark as being the heart-wrenching story it was trying to be.

I find that most films could remedy the problem of viewer ambivalence - which is what Atonement suffers from - by spending more time with the characters, just one or two more scenes; it seems so simple and I don't know why directors don't do it.

Yes, a filmmaker can take many shortcuts that the audience will follow without a hitch, but there is only so much shorthand you can use when developing a character and/or a relationship. And perhaps these precious scenes are being cut in the editing process, I don't know.

Keira Knightley was visually stunning, but her character seemed flat. I still can't decide if I can't stand James McAvoy or if I really like him, but I will say that he was perfect for this role. I loved the use of sound as a transition and the quick back and forth of time sequences.

Overall, I liked it – you should see it. It was much better than The Hulk which I had the misfortune of seeing last weekend.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

quiet sunday


I picked up these cute remnants of fabric at a yard sale today. And then A. found an entire NY Times on the sidewalk. What more could you ask for on a Sunday morning?

Saturday, June 21, 2008

veggies have arrived




Our CSA veggie box is totally kicking ass this year (it's from Angelic Organics). This is our first box and there is a ridiculous amount of food in it. Tons of lettuce, broccoli, garlic scapes, zucchini, choi, spinach, radishes, parsley, and scallions. Ridiculous. We're gonna have to eat salad at every meal.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

redwood retreat

I really miss walking in the redwoods. Mossy and green, cool and quiet. It was a place to get your thoughts together. I miss the odd lanky palm trees in my neighborhood that swayed above the houses. I could see them from the kitchen window. I miss catching a glimpse of the bay when the fog has receded while driving down Alcatraz. Even the sloping Berkeley hills twinkling with lights were calming. A walk in the redwoods would be nice right now.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

oh no you didn't

Yet another reminder I am way far outside of the Northern California politically correct bubble. I found myself today having to explain why the word bitch is not appropriate language to be used in the work place and/or around minors.

The real kicker, is that instead of an open-minded conversation with the person, I was accused of acting superior and lecturing–even though he was the one who insisted that I explain what is so wrong about using the word.

Backed up in a corner, no win situation, the fact that I opened my mouth (and I must extrapolate because I'm a woman "correcting" a man) put me at fault. How tired am I of sexist bullshit eespecially from people around me who swear up and down that they are in no way sexist? So so so so tired.

I found solace in this post from "Finally a Feminism 101 Blog." Thank you feminist bloggers, you kept me sane today.

This sentence particulary sums up my opinion on the matter:

"If you feel like self-censoring to forego the use of misogynist language is a compromise of your integrity, you don’t have much integrity to begin with."

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

the city so small

Brown mystery sludge oozes from the cracks in the underground El station walls. The city doesn't hide its age. As the train roars towards the station and the pieces of debris flutter away from the tracks, the city closes in. I often feel claustrophobic here even when I'm outside. The Midwest feels so open, the weather changes so quickly. It's flat here, with low-lying buildings that extend for miles and miles from the downtown skyline. The city goes right to the edge of the lake. Human construction as far as you can see.

The new "luxury" condos that are popping up everywhere do not help; they slowly replace the character-laden three-flats with nondescript blandness that apparently appeals to young people with money, I assume because it appears "clean." The stand selling girly magazines definitely does not appear clean, but I yearn for an 'I Spy Sexism' sticker every morning as I pass it. The over-priced beer at the formerly cheap taqueria ($4.50 for a bottle of Heineken?) makes me sigh. And my favorite park, now severed in thirds by a new playground is no longer a refuge.

The corruption, so common that it isn't even talked about. Or when it is, the question is sunnyside or over easy, not what will you have today. I gag when I think about it, the city's residents suffocating from something they've never lived without.

The train gets stuck on the elevated tracks. It weaves when a passing train approaches. I can see the operator out on the tracks doing something, she gets back on the train and it creaks and heaves towards the station. I breathe deeply when we're stuck, because you never know what will happen in Chicago.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

dad's day

It seems that dads are often disappointing. Most of my friends feel alienated from their fathers, but the spectrum is a wide one. Can you can have a friendly conversation with your dad? Do you wish your talks concerned subjects other than the weather and sports? Do you see him more than once a year? Do you talk at all anymore?

I think it's best to accept whatever your dad was able to give, even if at times it didn't seem like enough. Or even if the lessons you learned from him weren't the ones you wanted. I'm grateful for certain things my dad gave me: a childhood spent fishing on a dock, how to make stuffed mushrooms, an appreciation of big band music, my first records including a buddy holly record, a love of the movies and a curiosity about technology.

Maybe our generation will do a better job of being dads as some taboos about gender and emotional expression seem to have faded away. Possibilities for men to be more than male have multiplied, and this can only be a good thing.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

the f-book

To think that I almost succumbed to Facebook, my only excuse being that I feel cut off from my larger network of people since moving to Chicago. But after reading this article I don't think I can do it.

The article was published in January, but I just came upon it in a roundabout way. I've been reading the Idler, and apparently the Idler guy wrote it. More on the attractiveness of being idle later.

Here is an excerpt from the article - and this excerpt doesn't even get into the Facebook founders' horrendous politics which are the real reason people shouldn't use it:

And does Facebook really connect people? Doesn't it rather disconnect us, since instead of doing something enjoyable such as talking and eating and dancing and drinking with my friends, I am merely sending them little ungrammatical notes and amusing photos in cyberspace, while chained to my desk? A friend of mine recently told me that he had spent a Saturday night at home alone on Facebook, drinking at his desk. What a gloomy image. Far from connecting us, Facebook actually isolates us at our workstations.

Facebook appeals to a kind of vanity and self-importance in us, too. If I put up a flattering picture of myself with a list of my favourite things, I can construct an artificial representation of who I am in order to get sex or approval. ("I like Facebook," said another friend. "I got a shag out of it.") It also encourages a disturbing competitivness around friendship: it seems that with friends today, quality counts for nothing and quantity is king. The more friends you have, the better you are. You are "popular", in the sense much loved in American high schools. Witness the cover line on Dennis Publishing's new Facebook magazine: "How To Double Your Friends List."

Sunday, June 08, 2008

AREA


Yesterday there was a release party/gathering for AREA magazine, a publication that I sometimes write for (see: "Health Care, Self Care". The current issues is about Chicago as a policy lab. You can peruse the magazine online here: www.areachicago.org

neighborhood peonies

Saturday, June 07, 2008

uncontacted peoples

I was completely amazed to hear the news tidbit about the uncontacted tribe of people in the Amazon. I take for granted that everything in the world has been discovered and there are no more magical uncharted places on Earth. Could i be wrong?

Is it that i've been living in over-developed landfilled cities with man-made coastlines for too long, that i think every human settlement pushes the boundaries of geographical sustainability. My idea of the world has shrunken to match my urban surroundings, in a city where police shoot and kill a cougar who lost its way and a coyote finds refuge in a Loop Subway sandwich shop. Nature has nowhere to go here, the wild butts up against the unwild and is mundanely destroyed by it.

Just knowing about the uncontacted tribes makes "modern" behavior like a trip to Target seem absurd. It's important to remember that our way of life is not natural.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

writing tips

It's hot and humid in that oppressive Midwestern way that makes you droop. After yesterday's thunderstorms and chilliness this heat surprises everyone who thought winter may keep going into June. Peonies are falling over themselves weighted down by their heavy blooms, tree pollen is floating in the air, and people's clothes are coming off.

This evening I had the pleasure of watching a smart group of teenagers interview Joe Meno who turns out to be pretty smart himself. He gave them all sorts of useful writing tips, including never title your poem "untitled" and the only way to write good stories is to write a lot of bad ones first. The best part of the interview was that he grew up in Chicago and these kids are Chicago kids. Yet again, I see how Chicago, even with all its problems, imprints upon a person's soul. "Oh yeah that's the block with the White Castle." It's the simple recognition that he grew up here just like they did. And most importantly, he imparted to those kids: 'I'm a writer, so you can be too.'

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

it was a genuine shock

From the Associated Press:

Missing Cape Cod lighthouse located in California

WELLFLEET, Mass. - Local historians for decades thought the 30-foot tall lighthouse that once overlooked Wellfleet Harbor had been taken down and destroyed in 1925.

Turns out, it had just been moved to the California coast.

The fate of the cast-iron tower was uncovered last year by lighthouse researchers and reported by Colleen MacNeney in this month's edition of Lighthouse Digest.

Wellfleet historian Helen Purcell says the discovery of the lighthouse at Point Montara at the southern end of San Francisco Bay was a genuine shock.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

hello

It's spring 2008 already. It seems like I should freshen up the blog. I haven't written for a while because most of what I've been thinking was so uninteresting to myself that I can't imagine anyone else wanting to read about it. It was a long Chicago winter, but I survived it.