still looking for quintessential
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Tuesday, November 20, 2001 Just your average STD: This test will tell you what kind of horrible affliction you may be. Ahh, joy. Diamonds, soles, shoes?: I removed Alan Greenspandex, PinkSlip and Max -- is there a reason why we dress up in costume only once a year? I'm going to forward them on to Beagle's mom, however. Wouldn't your mum be proud? If you are really bored, the am I ____ or not list may do it for ya. I make no promises. Otherwise, TurkeyDay preparations are underway. Does anyone have a tried-n-true recipe for sweet potato pie?
Breakfast at Audrey Tautou's: I can't wait to see Amelie this weekend. Thursday, November 15, 2001 Velky ne!: When I lived in Prague, I interned at the government radio consortium, Voice of America. It was located in this ultra-Communist-era shiny black building that also housed Radio Free Europe (that REM song was ever-present on the tram ride home, ergh). In that scary-true way, the building was considered a recent potential terrorist target. This article gives the scoop. It's weird -- while the building is quite an eyesore, I can't imagine someone getting inside to blow it up -- security was super tight. Every time I went to work, the front desk would call VOA and one of the staff members would have to come down to the lobby and escort me to the main office. Still, it gives shivers. And, of course, makes me miss CZ. Wednesday, November 14, 2001 Are there any New York pitas going to see Ted Leo/Pharmacists play at the Bowery this evening? Just wondering. Tube sox: I spent two perfect days on the east coast of Florida, laying around Cocoa Beach. The weather hovered around 79 degrees, making ray-catching simple and humidity-free. I drank lots of powerade and ate a healthy share of Luna bars too, as getting sick or dehydrated and being alone on the beach would have been a nightmare. Water temperatures hung aroung 67 so forays into the surf were potentially numbing -- but only for a minute. Once in, the water felt divine. Here's a live shot -- hope it works. I picked up a nice 9-foot board (to say longboard would be repetitive, wouldn't it?) at this little surf shop off of Atlantic Avenue called Quiet Flight. The peeps working there were stocked up on the surf lingo -- I walked in and heard someone say, quite lazily, "hey girl, how's it hanging?" and it took a second for me to register that I was supposed to answer. I guess getting called girl had something to do with it. Or maybe it was my lack of anything hanging. I don't know. But they made me laugh. So I surfed all weekend, and didn't get as chewed up as I did at Manasquan (see 7/30). In fact, the only real pain I felt was after falling spread-eagle off the board into about 6" of water -- kinda scraped up my back a bit. Umm, oops. I should work on less dramatic dismounts but it beats the ass scars I got in Mexico. The rides were beautiful, and I managed to get up a bunch of times, almost riding right onto shore, which was a cool feeling. It's making me all long-y and doe-eyed for more beach action. In an unrelated note, the Beagle cannot stop singing tunes from the muscial Buffy. I think he's seen it 5 times now.
Jiggety-jig: Back again, thank god, finally. Business travel sucks, but those crazy conferences are now a thing of the past. At least they were interesting, librarian-wise. And despite my criticism of business travelling, I had a good time. My flight to Orlando on Friday night went well, as did my first experience renting a car. In fact, the nice Budget agent gave me a bigger vehicle than I anticipated. "Would you mind a free upgrade? We have a minivan available." I don't think he's ever seen someone so excited about a minivan (I think I even said something along the lines of "right on" or "rock" to him and jumped around a little bit) but it was perfect for a surfboard. More on that later . . .
Friday, November 9, 2001 Tail end: In about an hour I'm off to Florida and now officially understand the business travelers disdain of the business trip. It sucks. But in less than six hours I will be at the beach, hopefully enjoying the remnants of Hurricane Michelle. And not killing myself in the surf. California was fun, incidentally. I saw my favorite character on Felicity, Amanda Foreman. At least, I'm pretty convinced it was her. . . but more on that later -- plane catchin' time.
Friday, November 2, 2001 I love Rx: Ted Leo played last night at the Fireside Bowl, and hung out in the bar prior to playing. I almost worked up the nerve to talk to him but a silly bout of schoolgirl shyness overcame me. When I started feeling brave and complimentary, I realized that another Pabst was unnecessary. Anyhoot, the show was great. Ted Leo plays a super-speedy guitar and has a most adorable Muppet mouth. Am I smitten? Beagle, I'm sorry. I am. Skins: a word here about drummers. I find it fascinating to watch the drummer during a show. They're basically the backbone of a band, keeping everything together rhythmically, which ya gotta respect. But I just can't get over drummer face -- the rapid twitches, blinks, tongue licks, lip pouts and beat-keeping sneers they make while playing. TL's drummer made me laugh because he smiled the whole time he played, with some twitches thrown in and lots of looking up at the ceiling. Thursday, November 1, 2001 Sucka!: I was just talking to Rob about Ferrara Pan, the makers of delicious childhood sugarfests like Lemonheads, Alexander the Grape and Cherry Clan. The FP factory is located in the Chicago suburbs, and Rob said he can smell what candy is being made on certain days. "It's Red Hot day!" This led to proclaimations of shared love for the cinnamon candy, whereby I exclaimed, somewhat forlornly and a little too loudly, "Ahh, I remember my first Atomic Fire Ball." Rob fell behind the counter, laughing and mocking me.
City of sucky application love: Law school applications are the devil incarnate. And I'm not even the one applying. The Beagle and I spent a large portion of last night working on one of his "early action" applications. Early action allows candidates to submit their materials by a certain date, and they find out if they've gotten in by Christmas. And this particular school's online app fucking sucks. Corrections that we made didn't show up in the final copy -- and we couldn't back-track to fix them because the app had already been sent. The personal statement looked fine (well spaced, paragraphs separated) on the application form, but once it was submitted, the copy we received showed the essay as one big paragraph! @#@$#%&*! Levels of exasperation are running high right now. I can't wait until the show tonight. Wednesday, October 31, 2001 Good authority, ho ho ho: Tomorrow Ted Leo and the Pharmacists are playing at the Fireside, and I plan on being front and center. Is Ted coming to a town near you? Check it. Then go. Seriously.
Wooooo: I'm finally getting excited about my trip, after being rather nervous the past couple of days. Flying is not one o' my favorite things. The conference I'm going to is in Pasadena and is one of my last hurrahs as a speaker. After this I'm not going to whore myself out to library shindigs any longer, no siree. But knowing that isn't making the writing of my presentation any easier. A tiny hoot for the effort. These headaches have got to Go AWAY. Tuesday, October 30, 2001 CBGB: I forgot to mention how I saw Neco Case a couple of weeks ago at the Hideout, my new favorite Chicago place to see a show. It's hidden away, near the Home Depot on North, and a rather cozy place to hear music. Almost smoke-free too. Anyway, Neco Case (& her boyfriends, a brilliant name for a supporting band) was amazing. And although she is more twangy than my normal listens, her voice just filled the room. The opening band was Jim and Jenny and the Pinetops, an old-school bluegrass band that reveled in their geekiness and played a mean fiddle. I sound like I should be chewing a piece o'straw, but they were great. Hee haw.
Monday, October 29, 2001 Are interest rates up or are you just happy to see me?: The Beagle and I jumped on the costume bandwagon this past weekend and went as a more economic-minded couple. Beags was a slightly modified Alan Greenspan. I say slightly modified because he wore a white t-shirt emblazoned with "ALAN" in black letters. We found a pair of white spandex, which we dyed green, and I made him a shiny green cape with the almighty $ sign on the back. Hence, Alan Greenspandex. Yes I will post pictures, but don't blame me if you find yourself staring at his package. I, on the otherhand, went as a pink slip. Simple and skimpy, I wore, ta-da! a pink slip which I lengthened by adding a ruffle. Tall black boots and a pink cape added a bit of warmth to my getup (but not much). Blackberry brandy covered the rest. Sunday, October 28, 2001 Beetle juice: the pre-mentioned Scrabble word is zyzzyva. It's a tropical weevil. Yum. Friday, October 26, 2001 All Q*bert style-y and such: This Scrabble site is sure to whet my J word appetite. I wrote the triple Z word on my hand last night but it washed away before I got to work. Yips! Saturday is the HolloWeenie party. Another Bittersweet event! The search is on for green spandex, necessary to complete the Beagle's economic-minded costume. And I need to make mine a little less, umm, fleshy. My boyfriend is turning into my dad over the skin factor. Ahh, the Strokes. No, I haven't heard their album in completion yet. When I was at Reckless, they only had the imported butt-slapping version and it was tres expensive. So I've been holding off. Which would explain the eye-rolling "get with it" look I got from no-hips Ragstock boy when I politely asked what he was listening to. I sigh disdainfully. Pickled: Paul assures me that this gin is very tasty. Hmm. . . Thursday, October 25, 2001 Chuck Woolery: more than a sheep reference: I just want to thank the publishers of the Scrabble Dictionary for knowing that "duh" is not a word, yet "uh" is. What confuses me is why they've put non-Scrabbly words in the dictionary. Example: one of the last Z words has more than one Z. However, there is only one Z in the letter bag. Is there more than one version of Scrabble, one with more Zs? Hmm . . . Which reminds me to recommend Word Freaks by Stefan Fatsis, if you are into Scrabble as it's own subculture. It's fascinating. Word freakdom here I come --I wasn't kidding about memorizing the J and Q section of said word book last night. Wednesday, October 24, 2001 Last night I finished Double Billing by Cameron Stracher, a book with the nice little subtitle of "a young lawyer's tale of greed, sex, lies, and the pursuit of a swivel chair". See, the Beagle is in the midst of applying to law school, and our friend Danny said it offered a glimpse into the life of a first-year associate. I'm convinced he just wanted to scare the hell out of me -- corporate practice is the Devil! Why can't all lawyers emulate Ben Stone? Law & Order makes it seem so easy. . .but we know it's all because of the "dun dun" sound effect. Monday, October 22, 2001 Waking up: On Friday the Br(i/y)ans and I ate at a delicious sushi restaurant on Southport, and then caught the late showing of Waking Life, the cartoon version of Slacker. The movie, while visually beautiful, contains dialogue that I could understand only if my eyes were closed. (This is because I can only think with my eyes closed. You should catch me at the reference desk. Wooo!) Or maybe it was the sake-cider combo prior to the show. Anyway, the whole thinking-thing lasted about 15 minutes, until I fell asleep, head-back mouth-open style, on Brian's shoulder. Brian with the y just laughed at me outside the theatre.
ImPercyonator: I've inherited my Dad's love of the sports car. It was inevitable, I think, after growing up in an auto-obsessed family. "Some families go on vacation, we buy cars." Seriously, my parents were really nuts. This would account for having driven such gems as the 69 Chevelle ("umm, these brakes aren't slowing us down, Dad"), the clutch-popping Fiero("that's a tree! *&!@#!@" wheel gets grabbed while I cover my eyes), Mum's bitchin'Camaro(hey I grew up in NJ. i have a deep appreciation for cruising Seaside Heights with the top down), a '64 Stingray, and my long-lost friend Percy. Not that I can afford this anytime soon, but it is nice to dream. Thursday, October 18, 2001 Conference season: November takes me across the country to two separate library events, and I'm hoping to get a tan for Thanksgiving in the process. This whole presenting thing, as I'm sure you know, has gotten a little old. I'm just not as excited about what I have to say about the topic anymore. So, in an effort to combat my lethargy, I'm extending both conference trips. My first conference is in Pasadena, where my old Chicago buddies are letting me stay with them and their big-headed doggie. The other shindig is in Florida. I'm going a weekend early, renting a car and driving to the beach. A little pre-turkey surfing is in order, although it looks like it will just be me and my rented Doyle. The invitation is open, however, if anyone (that I know) wants to join me. So far my rallying cry has been met with silence. Sigh.
Wednesday, October 17, 2001 It's a lonley, lonley existence in Chicago when the weather requires mittens. Monday, October 15, 2001 Is this my boyfriend: Truly great writing captures the essence, the voice, of a writer, regardless of spelling and grammar. Hear Ecko spout. Someone searched for "bagel fucking" on Google and hit the l.grrl. That's too good, especially for a Monday morning. Thursday, October 11, 2001 Where is Peyo now? In college I tried to convince friends about the existence of Terminal Smurf. "He was only around one season." This didn't last very long, as I realized how disturbing and perverse my little laugh-in was. And no one believed me anyway. Find out your Smurf name today. Love, Chesty
Wednesday, October 10, 2001 Last year, when I was feeling more home-y and maternal, I asked for a sewing machine for my birthday. My mother thought it was a loony request, but buckled under the constant pressure. It took a long weekend and much cursing, but I learned how to work the little machine, hence my new name, Friend of the Bobbin. And have since made some mean curtains. Sewing is a cold-weather sport, and my new project is . . . pillows. This fabric begs to be stuffed.
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i'm back!