Quite Possibly the Greatest Thing Anyone Has Ever Said to Me
You're happy?
"Like a fountain of fireworks."
"Like a fountain of fireworks."
9.28.2005
Way Too Early for Philosophy
7:10am yesterday on the Red Line. Middle-aged Jewish lady in a huge gray sweatshirt and grubby jeans is sitting next to a slightly younger gay man with an excessively neat goatee. They were both on the train before me, so I can't tell if they knew each other before this morning, but my gut tells me they didn't. She is babbling along in a normal tone of voice, which sounds like she's screaming in the normally silent commuter car. First she's talking about her husband. They used to go out to bars a lot, but now they don't, it gets old, you know, everyone always the same, talking about the same old things, the faces change but the people don't. Then she starts talking about her engagement rings, and how her husband buys her ropes of jewelry, but how none of it matters to her, she calls it "junk," she just loves him for him. Money doesn't matter to her. This brings her to her old job, as security guard at the Sears Tower, how she used to work at the vault, putting money into safes, and how some of the other girls would steal, but she never would, and how she reported the theives to the authorities, and how they were fired, and how it wasn't fair that they could take something and she couldn't take something and that's why she told on them. And how her idea of heaven was a place where everybody was equal, nobody had any more than anyone else. But how really we make our own heaven here on earth, and all she wants is total bliss. All this between Argyle and Wilson. Then the guy sitting next to her got off.
After that, she went on a minor tantrum at Belmont, when shouted, "I'm getting off here! Would a lady like a seat?" A woman took the seat, even though the train was packed and there were guys standing much closer and it would have been easier for them to sit. She then proceeded to rant loudly as she pushed her way off the train, about how men were assholes and women had to look out for each other. Mind you, she didn't actually give the men a chance to offer the seat to a woman. But whatever. I can't stand women who go off about chivalry being dead. Why can't people just treat other people nicely? Don't get me wrong, I'll take advantage of it when men let me on the elevator ahead of them or let me sit down on a crowded train. But I wish people could just be decent to other people, rather than demanding that men treat women a certain way and then rioting at them before they have a chance to act one way or another.
I almost went off at the lady about this. But for god's sake, it was 7:30 in the morning. That's way too early for philosophy.
After that, she went on a minor tantrum at Belmont, when shouted, "I'm getting off here! Would a lady like a seat?" A woman took the seat, even though the train was packed and there were guys standing much closer and it would have been easier for them to sit. She then proceeded to rant loudly as she pushed her way off the train, about how men were assholes and women had to look out for each other. Mind you, she didn't actually give the men a chance to offer the seat to a woman. But whatever. I can't stand women who go off about chivalry being dead. Why can't people just treat other people nicely? Don't get me wrong, I'll take advantage of it when men let me on the elevator ahead of them or let me sit down on a crowded train. But I wish people could just be decent to other people, rather than demanding that men treat women a certain way and then rioting at them before they have a chance to act one way or another.
I almost went off at the lady about this. But for god's sake, it was 7:30 in the morning. That's way too early for philosophy.
9.22.2005
A Change of Season
I love the fall. Specifically October, because September always depresses me a little. September is when you're supposed to go back to school, and even though I haven't been in school for years, it makes me sad every time that I'm an adult now and I don't have that roiling sense of opportunity and challenge that new classes always meant for me. But this is not about that. October is a whole nother animal. October isn't being disappointed at not being young and changeable. October is dark and serious and everything feels like an omen. October is sweaters and tea and wind and boots and melancholy instrumentals and apples and rain and thick literary tomes and crunching leaves and grey skies and waking up to the chill before the sun has risen and feeling it on your cheeks when you're waiting on the morning El.
Eventually, winter will come, and all the romance and mystery will be replaced by annoyance and aggravation. But that's a way off yet.
Eventually, winter will come, and all the romance and mystery will be replaced by annoyance and aggravation. But that's a way off yet.
A New Word
laskidaze
I'm only guessing at the spelling, as I've only heard it spoken. It was coined the other night, and not under the influence of too much beer, as meaning slow-moving and un-stressful. The word he was shooting for was lackadaisical, but this is even better.
I'm only guessing at the spelling, as I've only heard it spoken. It was coined the other night, and not under the influence of too much beer, as meaning slow-moving and un-stressful. The word he was shooting for was lackadaisical, but this is even better.
9.19.2005
Things I Am Secretly Good At
Nursing people back from the dead
Squeezing into crowded commuter trains
Drawing stick figures
Walking in heels
Getting people to buy me drinks
Pretending to listen attentively to my supervisor as she gives me redundant instructions for 15 minutes and then starts talking about her kitchen rehab project
Squeezing into crowded commuter trains
Drawing stick figures
Walking in heels
Getting people to buy me drinks
Pretending to listen attentively to my supervisor as she gives me redundant instructions for 15 minutes and then starts talking about her kitchen rehab project
9.18.2005
A Change of Mood
Who knew a trip to Indiana could actually lift someone's mood? I went there yesterday on about day 15 of a bad streak and came home feeling (get this) happy. Really happy. Very happy indeed.
9.15.2005
An Exciting Day at City Hall
Yesterday was more eventful than the normal back-slapping, buck-passing, bribe-slipping, ghost-employing day at Chicago's City Hall. First, 50th Ward Alderman Bernard Stone, in what is perhaps the worst slip of the tongue ever uttered by a non-Republican, stated, "I support terrorism wherever it raises its head." He should become a speechwriter for Bush. Shortly thereafter, legendary 42nd Ward Alderman Burton Natarus collapsed. The reporters covering this said chaos ensued, but from the tape, it seems pretty much like everybody gathered around to look at the old man on the ground, and then the paramedics came and fixed him up and took him to the hospital. All this during a debate over whether to call for an end to the war in Iraq. Gotta love the way this city works.
9.11.2005
In Which I Am Old and Jaded
"What's wrong with us that we can't enjoy this?"
This was the question posed by Todd as we sat, feeling very old and tired, at his kitchen table after the Rolling Stones show at Soldier Field last night. There were 50,000 people all loving it, and then there was us. I've been cynical since about age 3, so I wasn't surprised that I was unmoved by the experience, but it does seem a little sad to me that while crowds of people of all ages (including the people on stage, of course) were dancing and screaming and having a great time, I sat there with my arms crossed feeling bored. The people we went with (Todd's dad, a 60-year-old RS freak who's seen them 12 times, and two young relatives, one of whom actually explained to me that classic rock is a fad now, but "I was into it first." It's great hearing a 15-year-old say he was into the Beatles first.) had a fantastic time. They brought binoculars to see the live action better, sang along with all the songs, got the merchandise, the whole bit. I watched the crowd like an anthropologist visiting a newly discovered tribe of easily excited islanders. It's been a while since I've felt quite that old. What's wrong with us, indeed.
This was the question posed by Todd as we sat, feeling very old and tired, at his kitchen table after the Rolling Stones show at Soldier Field last night. There were 50,000 people all loving it, and then there was us. I've been cynical since about age 3, so I wasn't surprised that I was unmoved by the experience, but it does seem a little sad to me that while crowds of people of all ages (including the people on stage, of course) were dancing and screaming and having a great time, I sat there with my arms crossed feeling bored. The people we went with (Todd's dad, a 60-year-old RS freak who's seen them 12 times, and two young relatives, one of whom actually explained to me that classic rock is a fad now, but "I was into it first." It's great hearing a 15-year-old say he was into the Beatles first.) had a fantastic time. They brought binoculars to see the live action better, sang along with all the songs, got the merchandise, the whole bit. I watched the crowd like an anthropologist visiting a newly discovered tribe of easily excited islanders. It's been a while since I've felt quite that old. What's wrong with us, indeed.
9.09.2005
The Jude Experience
So last night, Kat and I went to get our hair done. For me, this takes about an hour, hour and a half tops. Kat's hair is a bit of a project. She's got about five different colors in it, and it looks like the most beautiful sunrise you ever saw. Seriously, it's like the rainbows in the Skittles commercial. It's insane. It's amazing. Jude is an artist, and instead of oil paint or marble, she's chosen to work in hair and dye. I myself could not and would not walk around with Kat's hair on my head, but it suits her perfectly. And Jude doing loves it, I dunno, for the challenge, maybe, a chance to be a little creative after a string of Trixies get their regulation highlights applied. But it does take four hours. And generally I enjoy talking to the pair of them, interesting and fiesty as they are. We covered everything from relationships to laundry techniques. But I was so fucking hungry and tired that I don't know if I was a very good sport for the whole bit. I felt a bit like a kid on a summer vacation. "Are we there yet?" And finally we were. And at the end of four hours, Kat and I both walked out looking completely hot, me in my fairly sedate, office-friendly way, and she in all her hippie-punk-extravaganza glory.
I Receive a Foul
Walking down Randolph toward Michigan today on my way to work, I observe three guys dressed in referee uniforms with yellow flags. This cannot be good, I think. And I'm correct. As I pass, one throws his flag and shouts, "Foul! Girl with attitude!" I laugh, the crowd gathered at the crosswalk laughs, he says something like "Don't worry 'bout it," the light changes, and I cross the street. I have no idea what that was about.
I did look like I had attitude, though. I'm wearing tight jeans and heels, and I just got my hair done yesterday. I look pretty hot. I totally had attitude. They were right to call me on it.
I did look like I had attitude, though. I'm wearing tight jeans and heels, and I just got my hair done yesterday. I look pretty hot. I totally had attitude. They were right to call me on it.
9.06.2005
Hurricane Coverage Wrap-Up
OK, we'll start with the most obvious, which is the one I woke up to this morning. Kanye West spoke his mind on live TV, and the powers that be got all twitchy and wondered what the hell happened to that all-important seven-second delay. My only complaint about his statement is that, it's not that President Bush doesn't care about black people; he doesn't care about poor people. If black people have money, Bush is their best buddy. If white people are broke, Bush will cross the street and avert his eyes.
Jack Shafer at Slate (who, I'll admit, I think is brilliant every single week) featured these same themes, race and class, and their almost complete absence from the news, in his column last week. He continued this week with a story about the journalists covering Katrina snapping when the unparallelled devestation was met with the normal bureaucratic plodding and mugging for cameras. He points out that some anchors are actually mentioning the race/class issue now, some sensitively, and some thoughtlessly.
When journalists are under emotional and physical strain, in addition to incredible time crunches, something unorthodox is bound to slip through. This strand shows one of the more infamous incidents of this so far in the current coverage, the "looter" vs. the "finder". (I don't recommend reading down too far, it devolves into typical message-board idiocy fairly quickly.)
Speaking of idiocy, Mr. Bush informed the nation last week, "I don't think anyone anticipated the breach of the levees." (ABC's Good Morning America, Sept. 1, 2005 via slate.com). Really, Mr. President? Check out the comprehensive and prescient series "Washing Away" published by the Times-Picayune more than three years ago.
Finally: you can rest easy. Someone's paying attention to what's really important.
Jack Shafer at Slate (who, I'll admit, I think is brilliant every single week) featured these same themes, race and class, and their almost complete absence from the news, in his column last week. He continued this week with a story about the journalists covering Katrina snapping when the unparallelled devestation was met with the normal bureaucratic plodding and mugging for cameras. He points out that some anchors are actually mentioning the race/class issue now, some sensitively, and some thoughtlessly.
When journalists are under emotional and physical strain, in addition to incredible time crunches, something unorthodox is bound to slip through. This strand shows one of the more infamous incidents of this so far in the current coverage, the "looter" vs. the "finder". (I don't recommend reading down too far, it devolves into typical message-board idiocy fairly quickly.)
Speaking of idiocy, Mr. Bush informed the nation last week, "I don't think anyone anticipated the breach of the levees." (ABC's Good Morning America, Sept. 1, 2005 via slate.com). Really, Mr. President? Check out the comprehensive and prescient series "Washing Away" published by the Times-Picayune more than three years ago.
Finally: you can rest easy. Someone's paying attention to what's really important.
9.05.2005
Attack of the Loud Shirts
Getting on the El today, I found my fellow passengers to be a crowd of confused-looking middle aged people in straw hats and flowered shirts. Ah, I remembered, the Jimmy Buffett show at Wrigley Field today. Strangely enough, these people who, from what little I know about them, present themselves as laid-back, beachcomber sorts, seemed pretty angsty. Maybe instead of lazily sipping something fruity from a pineapple, they'd been pounding whiskey. I'm not sure. But they were all very tense. One man was snapping at his wife because they'd gotten lost and were now going to be late. "We'll never get there before 2pm. Unless this thing runs nonstop. Which it won't." Another group, a mom and three daughters (50ish and 20s) were very worried that maybe people would make fun of their clothes -- and I was, to be honest, giggling in my head, because one daughter was actually wearing a grass skirt and they all had on matching flowered hats. But it seems like they shouldn't even care about things like being on time or fashionable. Shouldn't they just laugh it off and order another margarita? What's the point of adopting a carefree lifestyle if it's just one more thing to worry about?
A Weekend Away
First, the good things about this weekend:
1) Excellent company
2) Beautiful weather
3) Baseball game complete with a grand slam and racing sausages
4) Private residence off a tiny county road between two towns of less than 1000 people
5) A very old rowboat and a secluded pond
6) Tasty beer (but not after 9pm in Waukesha County)
7) Absolute quiet
8) Actual stars
The bad thing about this weekend:
1) Disaster struck
Now, this was not unexpected. Really, anytime Todd attempts to do anything, there's a good 50% chance that disaster will strike. When I'm also involved, that goes up to like 60, 65%. At least disaster waited until we were on our way home to come in for the kill. He got some kind of infection in his eye that caused it to try to fall out, making it necessary for me, who doesn't drive, to pilot the Volvo all the way back home. On the way, we stopped at a Country Kitchen around 2pm for breakfast, and due to his stumbling walk, slurry speech, day's worth of stubble, and sunglasses indoors, the waitresses were looking at him like he was a rock star. Rock star, blind man, same difference. I did manage to stop off at the Cheese Castle, which Todd took a picture of, although a blind man taking a picture, I'm not sure how that turned out. Somehow, we did manage to make it home, and I only almost crashed once, coming down 94 into the city after dark, but no one died, and thanks to a friend who happened to have some antibiotic eye drops, he probably won't even go blind. I hope. With him, one never knows.
1) Excellent company
2) Beautiful weather
3) Baseball game complete with a grand slam and racing sausages
4) Private residence off a tiny county road between two towns of less than 1000 people
5) A very old rowboat and a secluded pond
6) Tasty beer (but not after 9pm in Waukesha County)
7) Absolute quiet
8) Actual stars
The bad thing about this weekend:
1) Disaster struck
Now, this was not unexpected. Really, anytime Todd attempts to do anything, there's a good 50% chance that disaster will strike. When I'm also involved, that goes up to like 60, 65%. At least disaster waited until we were on our way home to come in for the kill. He got some kind of infection in his eye that caused it to try to fall out, making it necessary for me, who doesn't drive, to pilot the Volvo all the way back home. On the way, we stopped at a Country Kitchen around 2pm for breakfast, and due to his stumbling walk, slurry speech, day's worth of stubble, and sunglasses indoors, the waitresses were looking at him like he was a rock star. Rock star, blind man, same difference. I did manage to stop off at the Cheese Castle, which Todd took a picture of, although a blind man taking a picture, I'm not sure how that turned out. Somehow, we did manage to make it home, and I only almost crashed once, coming down 94 into the city after dark, but no one died, and thanks to a friend who happened to have some antibiotic eye drops, he probably won't even go blind. I hope. With him, one never knows.
9.01.2005
My Faith in Humanity Is Fading Fast
I thought tragedy was supposed to bring out the best in people. Acts of selfless courage. Mothers lifting cars off of crushed children. Sharing a canteen with a stranger in the desert. Almost drowning in an attempt to save your girlfriend from a riptide. But this stuff in New Orleans... the looting I completely understand, but rapes? attempted (and probably successful, although I haven't heard of it yet) murder? Like the natural disaster wasn't bad enough, now it's a disaster of civilization as well. I read something that compared it to a scene out of 28 Days Later, and that seems apt. I'm glad I'm getting away from all of these screens and newspapers for a few days...
Things Agreed Upon Last Night at Moody's
Barbecue sauce is like ketchup, only better.
Natural disasters are awful and all, but they do make for some great photographs.
New York is a terrific place to visit, but paying for a hotel sucks.
Girls are crazy.
Boys, also crazy.
The universe is fucking with everyone, probably just because it was bored.
It's better to have a nicely furnished apartment, so that you can either look like a respectable adult or a bum who's just crashing at some rich friend's place, than to have a trashy apartment, which will always make you look trashy, even if you shave and put on a tie.
Natural disasters are awful and all, but they do make for some great photographs.
New York is a terrific place to visit, but paying for a hotel sucks.
Girls are crazy.
Boys, also crazy.
The universe is fucking with everyone, probably just because it was bored.
It's better to have a nicely furnished apartment, so that you can either look like a respectable adult or a bum who's just crashing at some rich friend's place, than to have a trashy apartment, which will always make you look trashy, even if you shave and put on a tie.
