Quodlibets

Happy Halloween!

I figured it made more sense to post a picture of the pumpkin I carved over the weekend today, rather than tomorrow, even though that means I'll be starting NaBloPoMo with a fat lot of nothing to talk about.  Oh well.  I do have some surprises planned for ya'll (I'll be pulling out the meme once in a while to pad my blog), and at least one regular feature for the month of November.  I'm pulling out all the blog stops.  Anyway, here is it, the best pumpkin I ever carved.  Ever.  Ever ever.  Never will I make a pumpkin so aesthetically pleasing; this was my shot to win it all and didn't go the distance.  Again, oh well.

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Last night, my sis and I went to see The Sparrow, at the tiny Apollo theater.  What a good show!  It's such a fantastic little success story; a homegrown Chicago theater company puts together this show, it's a success in a tiny indie theater (The Viaduct) and Steppenwolf and Broadway in Chicago step in and provide the money and backing for a bigger production, and a more polished one (at least by all accounts).  And it's really good.  I mean, the story is weird, and the show includes some very strange elements (or, strange to me, who doesn't go to many plays), but it was just enjoyable.  Funny, too.

Kate said after the show that she didn't think it would have been as good had the music not been so good, and I think she's right.  I'm almost 100% sure that the music is all original, and it WAS good.  It had a slightly...Sufjan-esque feel to it.  I walked out of the theater singing Sufjan Stevens, if that's any clue (The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades is Out to Get Us!) as to how Sufjan-esque it really was.  The music (and laughter) really made the show.  A couple of times, though, I felt like Kate and I were the only ones laughing, and sometimes I felt as if we were laughing longer than some of the other people in the audience.  I think we have a similar sense of humor, and apparently the show was playing right to our particular sense of humor.

That, or the audience was a little bit too old to grasp some of the high school funniness of the show.  I'm not sure, though I read a review earlier yesterday that said the show does play best to those who vividly remember their high school years.  And Kate remarked, before the show started, on how surprised she was at how old the audience was (lots of older women), knowing the subject matter of the play.  But that's who goes to plays now, right?  Older ladies.  It's not meant to be derogatory, it's just a statement.  They're keeping the theater industry afloat.  And someday, Kate and I will be those older ladies keeping the industry afloat.

Anyway, that was a tangent.  I highly recommend The Sparrow; even if you don't like theater, this might be something you might like.  It's quirky and fun, and especially if you're a person who hates shows and has a partner who loves them, this might be one you could sit through to win some brownie points.

Addiction!

Oh man, I've got a new work-day obsession over here.  FreeRice.com.  Maybe I'm just a nerd, but I can think of nothing more fun than testing myself on vocabulary, for possibly hours at a time.  Maybe you're not a nerd.  Maybe you don't think this is fun.  But I can't stop.  I've gotten up to level 46, but that's where I'm stalling. 

And you know, I've donated a lot of rice.  Supposedly.

Layla, Something, Wonderful Tonight

I just finished Pattie Boyd's autobiography, and I'm IMMENSELY disappointed.  This is the lady that inspired the above songs.  That left one superstar for another, who happened to be the former superstar's very good friend.  And the love triangle that has fascinated Beatles and Eric Clapton fans forever?  It's sort of barely dealt with in this book.  I mean, it's straight-forward to Pattie Boyd:  George and her were having hard times, so she left and let Eric have her.  But come on!  This was a tortured four year period for Eric Clapton, and for Pattie Boyd, the four years barely exist.  I mean, maybe that's how it was in her head, but I think it's got to be more complicated than that.  Doesn't it?

One thing I will say is that when George and Pattie were having problems, I was kind of rooting for George, even though he sounds like a right asshole.  I mean, with the cheating and the drugs and the incessant meditating.  I know it's history and all--happened--and so rooting for George ultimately means nothing, because historically, George didn't win that fight.  But for what it's worth, Eric was probably a bigger asshole than George, because he was not only doing all those things that George was doing, but was doing it while drinking two bottles of brandy a day. 

Did I mention that these people's lives were a trifle messed up?   Yeah, that.

I wish there were more pictures in the book, because the pictures of Pattie and all these famous people are great.  And Pattie's shots from her modeling years are fantastic as well.  (Pattie needs to be a guest judge on ANTM with Twiggy, her compatriot and friend.)

Ultimately, though, it's hard for me to recommend this book, because it didn't really bring me very much insight into something I already knew a fair bit about.  I'm interested to read Clapton's autobiography to see how much more he goes into the thing.

Announcement

Blogging will be sporadic until November 1st, as I store up all those blogging ideas for NaBloPoMo.  I can't say I won't blog at all until then (although I do plan on taking off from the 27th to the 31st for sure), but look for superficial posts.  Or bitchfests.  Or concert/show reviews, which demand currency.  Otherwise, anything else will be posted from Nov. 1 to Nov. 30. 

That is all.  Nothing to else to see here, move along.

I was totally going to blog yesterday; I had even started a post as of around 4:40.  But then Sam came home and we decided to go on a bike ride and time was of the essence, since it gets dark here at like, 6:15.  So I promptly up and left the entry, got back and decided it wasn't working for me, and abandoned the post and the blog.  In general.  While I sewed.  (If you ever wonder what it is I'm doing while at home at night, the answer probably involves sewing, water, and EL Fudge cookies.  Also, football on Sundays, Mondays and coming up soon, select Thursdays and Saturdays.  Sewing.  I'm sewing sewing sewing.  Sewing so that at Xmas I have something to show the gparents.)

But I was going to post about this yesterday.  I'm not sure exactly what I was going to say about it, except that it pretty much mirrors how I feel about the issue.  If you didn't look at the link, the gist is that this guy can't understand--as in, literally cannot understand--the arguments against gay marriage.  I don't know if I've talked about that before in this space, but I feel EXACTLY the same way.  I literally cannot intellectually grasp the arguments against gay marriage.  Other things I can at least grudgingly see the logic of, but this, I just don't get.  I don't understand at all this mean-spirited wish to deny people who are different something so basic.  It's not like some of the other things we argue about, things that actually cost someone something, whether it be life or health insurance or tax money.  Gay marriage has exactly ZERO effect on the people who oppose it so violently.  (And in fact, I'm inclined to argue that economically, it can actually help us, as marriage is big money.  There is a marriage industry, after all.)  Either way, the reasons people don't want it are, I would hazard a guess, 99% religious in nature, and that's even more hard to understand.  The government isn't religious, or rather, shouldn't be; gay citizens should be able to be married just like their fellow citizens.  Maybe not in a church, but in a courthouse, where the law is NOT the law of God, but the law of man.

So anyway.  Yeah.

Dad's questions answered, and questions for dad

1. What is it about Rome that makes you love it so much? Well, part of it would have to be the food.  But I also love that indescribable thing that is Italy and Italians.  It's an attitude, maybe.  Or a feeling.  It's also a place that had a huge part in my shaping as a person, in a good way, and that makes me love it too. 

2. If you had the power to make one ficticious character a reality, who would it be?  Ooh, that's a really good one.  Can I have two?  I definitely think I would want to meet Valentine, from Ender's Game.  Not from the later books, just from the first one.  I know you're supposed to love Valentine, and I do.  And then, possibly Anne of Green Gables, though it's hard to figure out if I'm thinking of Megan Follows or Anne here.  And of course, picking characters from series makes it iffy, because which Anne would I want to meet?  Probably teenage Anne, if I'm choosing.

2. What's your favorite movie comedy?  Is the Royal Tenenbaums a comedy?  I love that movie.  Office Space is pretty good too.  And Clueless.  I can easily watch all three of those over and over again.

Now your questions, Dad:

-What country that you've never been to do you plan on traveling to?
-Most overrated and underrated Beatles song?  Led Zeppelin song?
-If you could only give aliens three items to explain humanity, what would they be?

Questions Answered

These are Kates:

1)Do you still feel hopeless about politics? Most days, yes.  That last election led to such a whopper of a fall for me that I have to caution myself to not get too involved.  Otherwise I might end up listening to Transatlantacism and Reinhold Messner on endless loops and staying in bed until noon.

2)Best restaurant in Chicago and the meal you had?  Worst?  Best meal in the city was hands down at Custom House.  I had an incredible hearts of palm salad as an appetizer (the thought of it is making me wistful and hungry and full of saliva), and a flat-iron steak as my main meal.  But Sam and I also got three side dishes--pureed potatoes, potato gallette, and a gnocchi (I think...) and they were all ridiculously good.  Seriously, I would drop everything to go and eat there right now.  And Sam and I have had plenty of mediocre meals in the city, but the absolute worst was at Opera.  Go and read my review for it on Yelp and you'll know why.  Just, ugh.

3)If you ever got a hedgehog what would you name it?  Cat?  Puggle?  I don't know what I would name a hedgehog.  I've never seriously thought of getting one.  Maybe something from literature, like Ender.  Or maybe Mr. Big.  That sounds just right for a wee hedgie.  I would never get a puggle, either, but any dog I ever got I'd want to name MonkeyBear.  I know it's very strange, but it's a joke between Sam and I, and I just like the name Monkey for a dog, period.  Cat, I'm not sure.  Again, I'm thinking I'd look at literature or film or music names.  Like maybe I'd name her Rilo after Rilo Kiley.  I think that'd be a staring into the face of the cat kind of decision.

And now Mavis':

1)What phrase do you wish would just work its way OUT of people's lexicon?  That's a good question.  I've always hated HATED the phrase "You're all in the same boat."  That dates back to my tenure at SMC.  Specifically freshman year.  Because most decidedly, we were not all on the same boat.  Some people were on a party yacht while I (and some cohorts) were uselessly grouped together in rowboats that only had one oar.  I also hate the use of the word sick to mean something is really cool.  That drives me insane.

2)You have to leave right now to go to the airport for a 10 day trip. Where are you going?  Duh, Rome.  Even though I was just there, even though there are lots of great places, man, I can't get that place out of my blood.  Two days ago, even, Sam and I were talking about it, and specifically this little restaurant in the heart of Florence that we were recommended to by our (Florentine) tour guide.  I have food memories of those fried squash blossoms.  I can't forget them.  So yeah, Rome.  Going to Rome isn't even like going on a trip.  It's like going to my 2nd home.

3)If you don't stick to your morning routine (assuming you have one), are you thrown off for the rest of the day? Um, yeah.  I'm a person who thrives on routine and plans and general anality, which I'm sure any number of people will be happy to confirm with you.  Mornings when Sam does not play his precise role in my routine (he MUST kiss me goodbye at the door, dammit) are all flustery and confusing and awful, and inevitably end up at work later than normal.  It's bad.

And you know what, ladies?  I'm posting your questions here. 
For Kate:
-Besides the monetary benefits, was it worth it to go and get your Masters in something so far removed from your major in college?  Was it the right choice?
-What's your favorite place in London?
-What trends do you secretly wish you were taking part in right now?  What trends are you glad to keep away from you with a ten-foot pole?

For Mavis:
-Do you plan on living where you currently are for a long time?  Forever?  If not, where do you see yourself going?
-What one thing did Rome give you above all else?
-If I walked into your apartment right now, what would I see?

Have at!

Frog's questions

So I asked frog three questions on her blog, and in turn, she asked me three, so here goes.  Sorry it took so long, frog!

Is your career what you'd hoped it would be when you decided to pursue it? Career, ha!  Seriously, though, when I decided to enter the library world, I never could have seen myself where I am now.  I thought I would have an MLS, first of all, and secondly, I thought I would be a reference librarian, which I am slowly coming to understand I would probably not like very much at all.  I've talked about this before in this space, but honestly, the idea of a career is still very foreign to me.  I am doing what I do because I have to be doing something, so why not this?  I don't have many hopes or expectations about what I'm going to be doing in 5 years or 10 years or 20 years. 

What's the best concert you've ever attended and why? Worst? Best concert. *Intake of breath*  So hard to just pick one.  I've enjoyed a LOT of concerts in my life, so it's really hard to pick best.  All the good ones sort of settle in.  In recent years, perhaps the Pete Yorn show I saw at Schuba's for its sheer intimacy and also for the Smiths' covers he played.  Also, of course, there is the church of Macca, which like I say, cease to be concerts and are my worship opportunities.  Those are always always wonderful.  Now, worst concert, that's a question I could probably go on about for post after post.  Eric Clapton has to be up there.  That was horribly bad.  I don't love wa-wa guitar solos, and those abounded in the show.  Also, he had NO personality.  None.  Boring and awful.  Any show I end up counting architectural elements at is bad bad bad, and this was one of them.  The two My Morning Jacket's shows at the Metro were similarly awful for the counting. 

Are you going to do NaBloPoMo?  I sure am.  I'm hoping that both other blogging members of my family will do it, too.  I'm pretty sure my sis is, and I'm crossing my fingers that my dad will.

Now, if you all who read this (all....6 of you) wanna ask three questions, go right ahead.  I'll do my best to answer those questions, but can't promise I will answer all of them if they're...uncomfortable.  In return, if you blog, I'm asking you 3 questions in the comments on this post, and I expect you to answer them on your blog.

Persephone

Today is THAT day.  One of the worst days of the year, to me.  Yes, it is the day that I am finally forced to wear socks and shoes, and retire the flip-flops.  There may be other flip-flop-able days in the future few weeks, but for the most part, I think we can safely say that the flops are done.  Real shoes, here I come.  It couldn't have happened on a better day, weather-wise.  It's gray and dark and rainy-looking, and at least that reinforces the gloominess of wearing shoes. 

But actually, I love this time of year, feeling the slow winding down of the Earth in preparation for the long, cold winter.  I like getting up in the morning in the dark, and having to turn my headlights on during my drive to work.  I like when it gets dark early, and I feel enveloped in the comfort and warmth of our little apartment.  I actually do like the cold, even if I bitch and moan about it.  Which, make no mistake, I do.  But that doesn't mean I don't love it and welcome it.  I'm a Chicagoan, after all.  We're bred for extremes of weather.  I know there are people who hate it, and would flee gladly to somewhere warm all year round, but not me.

Anyway, winter means spaghetti and football, Christmas and Thanksgiving, red leaves on trees and snow (eventually) on the ground.  Winter means steaming hot showers and the hum of the humidifier, gray hooded sweatshirts and knee socks under pants.  Winter is cozy.

So even though I hate covering up my toes and making the switch, it's okay.  It's an okay trade-off.