A woman from my hometown - Moscow, PA - received the Newbury Honor Award this year for Children's Literature. I'm a big fan of kids' lit. so when I saw her book on the ALA website, I read it, and then sent her a note to congratulate her. I probably haven't talked to this woman since she was my eighth grade homeroom teacher. However, her family went to my church and her son graduated with me. His and my circles also intersected once in a while. I knew that she would recognize me, and it wouldn't be outrageous for her to receive a card from me.
I didn't know the address, but I only had to fill out her name and the zip code and I knew it would reach her. How can one not love small towns? The mailman has four boys. My mom used to baby-sit them until the fourth was born. She said she wouldn't be able to handle that manyboys under 6! The mailman's father went rafting with me in the Grand Canyon a few years ago. He's a cool guy. I'm not sure what he did for a living, but it involved the government's relationship with the public. His biggest project over the years was Centralia, PA. That the town, under which the coal mines have been burning for decades. Slowly the government has been buying people's houses before they fall into the burning inferno (literally). However, there are still some die hard Centralians who refuse to move. Most of them are old, so now we're just waiting for them to die.
But I digress, which is easy to do when one talks about the politics of small town America.
I sent a card. I received a reply. My card was pleasant, maybe even funny. Her reply heartfelt and properly punctuated. But I question the last line. What am I supposed to imply from it? It reads: "What a crew we had in homeroom that year...that was the year that made me decide I wanted to write full time!"
While I appreciate the thought that I played a pivotal role in her celebrated career. I'm not sure if I want that role.
Tuesday, February 28
Job Hunt
All good blogs have at least one Fart Post. This will be mine.
If...whom am I kidding...When I look for my next job, I will look for one at which I can fart. Cubicles are not fart-friendly. The neighbors can hear you. The half-walls, while good for ventilation, do not keep the scent from people walking by. And it's far too easy for one's boss (or Cute Girl) to walk into the cube moments after an SBD has been launched. I don't know if I can continue to digest food in this environment. I eat healthily. A lot of green vegetables. Beans. Maybe it's the lactose. But for whatever the reason, I dread the afternoon because of the somersaults my stomach turns after lunch.
I want a job where bodily noises aren't noticed, like on a airport run-way. Or I need a job out in the open, like in a forest preserve. Or perhaps where strange smells are not out of the ordinary, like a laboratory. Or I could look for a job at the trifecta of these characteristics - the landfill.
Confession time: now that I live in a strange city, a city in which I don't plan to spend the rest of my life, sometimes I just let one rip in public. Sometime I figure the guy walking down the street will just assume the sound was the scuffing of my shoe. Or I'll be in the mall and just assume that if I keep a straight face, noone will think it's me. If they figure it out...so what. It's not like they've never had to do it.
As my Aunt Janine says, "It's better to bear the shame, than to bear the pain." How true.
If...whom am I kidding...When I look for my next job, I will look for one at which I can fart. Cubicles are not fart-friendly. The neighbors can hear you. The half-walls, while good for ventilation, do not keep the scent from people walking by. And it's far too easy for one's boss (or Cute Girl) to walk into the cube moments after an SBD has been launched. I don't know if I can continue to digest food in this environment. I eat healthily. A lot of green vegetables. Beans. Maybe it's the lactose. But for whatever the reason, I dread the afternoon because of the somersaults my stomach turns after lunch.
I want a job where bodily noises aren't noticed, like on a airport run-way. Or I need a job out in the open, like in a forest preserve. Or perhaps where strange smells are not out of the ordinary, like a laboratory. Or I could look for a job at the trifecta of these characteristics - the landfill.
Confession time: now that I live in a strange city, a city in which I don't plan to spend the rest of my life, sometimes I just let one rip in public. Sometime I figure the guy walking down the street will just assume the sound was the scuffing of my shoe. Or I'll be in the mall and just assume that if I keep a straight face, noone will think it's me. If they figure it out...so what. It's not like they've never had to do it.
As my Aunt Janine says, "It's better to bear the shame, than to bear the pain." How true.
Monday, February 27
Holey Bread
Can I return a loaf of bread to the supermarket because it has too large of a hole in the center of it? Seriously, the hole is as big as fist. Making sandwiches or toast would be ridiculous. There is no bread - just crust. I would feel silly returning it. But the supermarket manager might get a kick out of it.
Thursday, February 23
A Cup of Tchai
I had one of my most pleasant evenings tonight.
Jake, Christie, and I went to the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra after work. The concert hall is only a few blocks down the street from us. We bought tickets at the door and they were relatively cheap.
This weekend the MSO is playing a Tchaikovsky concert, but on the Thursdays they play a shorter version of the weekend program. We heard a little bit of an opera, the "March Slav," a piano concerto, and the "1812 Overture." The concert was just long enough. There was a commentator onstage during the performance and before each song, he would give little facts about the upcoming piece. It was great. And who doesn't like Tchaikovsky? I think he's my favorite composer.
After the show, they had complimentary desserts and coffee at the hotel across the street. We helped ourselves twice. My dinner tonight consisted mostly of cannoli and chocolate-covered strawberries. And I washed them down with Jack and Coke. The hotel is classy and as we were still in our business casual dress, we felt like actual adults.
We had some funny stories and decided that Thursday nights at the Symphony should become a new tradition. Especially because the next concert is titled "Barbara Streisand's Songbook." Eh, maybe we'll skip next week.
Jake, Christie, and I went to the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra after work. The concert hall is only a few blocks down the street from us. We bought tickets at the door and they were relatively cheap.
This weekend the MSO is playing a Tchaikovsky concert, but on the Thursdays they play a shorter version of the weekend program. We heard a little bit of an opera, the "March Slav," a piano concerto, and the "1812 Overture." The concert was just long enough. There was a commentator onstage during the performance and before each song, he would give little facts about the upcoming piece. It was great. And who doesn't like Tchaikovsky? I think he's my favorite composer.
After the show, they had complimentary desserts and coffee at the hotel across the street. We helped ourselves twice. My dinner tonight consisted mostly of cannoli and chocolate-covered strawberries. And I washed them down with Jack and Coke. The hotel is classy and as we were still in our business casual dress, we felt like actual adults.
We had some funny stories and decided that Thursday nights at the Symphony should become a new tradition. Especially because the next concert is titled "Barbara Streisand's Songbook." Eh, maybe we'll skip next week.
Monday, February 20
Dear Abby
My roommate, "Drake," and I get along great. We didn't know each other before we moved in together, but things have worked out swimmingly. For example, I had enough stuff to furnish the entire apartment (except for his bedroom) and he had nothing except for bedroom furniture when he moved to the city. We haven't had any fights yet and I know I would feel comfortible approaching him with any problems that I had about our living arrangements.
Four months ago, for Drake's birthday, his girlfriend, "Sadie," gave him twelve martini glasses. They are very nice and he uses them often because he usually drinks cocktails in the evening. (He lives in Milwaukee but doesn't like beer!) When he first received them we joked about not having any room to store them in the cupboard, but not to worry about it because we were sure to break some of them soon. This weekend, after four months, the first glass was broken.
And I was the one to break it. while I was washing dishes. his dishes. Well, they're actually my dishes, except for the broken glass, but it was his dirty dishes. But I was washing them. And one broke. He wasn't home at the time but I told him afterwards. He laughed and said he was surprised it hadn't happened earlier.
Do I replace the broken glass? Or give him money for it? Would I give him one-twelfth of the price of the entire set? I just thought about this today. I hadn't even considered giving him money. I hadn't even offered. It just seems like we share the household stuff and I wouldn't expect him to pay me if he broke something like a dish or a glass. But I feel differently about single ticket items, like a TV or a book.
Which leads me to the next twist. A month ago, Sadie borrowed a book of mine. She spilled something on it or dropped in the sink - she got it wet - and instead of returning it damaged, she bought me a new one. I wish she hadn't done that though, because, really, I'm not going to read it again.
So, I feel that a precident has been set. But a book, easily found and purchased, is different than one of a dozen martini glasses.
Four months ago, for Drake's birthday, his girlfriend, "Sadie," gave him twelve martini glasses. They are very nice and he uses them often because he usually drinks cocktails in the evening. (He lives in Milwaukee but doesn't like beer!) When he first received them we joked about not having any room to store them in the cupboard, but not to worry about it because we were sure to break some of them soon. This weekend, after four months, the first glass was broken.
And I was the one to break it. while I was washing dishes. his dishes. Well, they're actually my dishes, except for the broken glass, but it was his dirty dishes. But I was washing them. And one broke. He wasn't home at the time but I told him afterwards. He laughed and said he was surprised it hadn't happened earlier.
Do I replace the broken glass? Or give him money for it? Would I give him one-twelfth of the price of the entire set? I just thought about this today. I hadn't even considered giving him money. I hadn't even offered. It just seems like we share the household stuff and I wouldn't expect him to pay me if he broke something like a dish or a glass. But I feel differently about single ticket items, like a TV or a book.
Which leads me to the next twist. A month ago, Sadie borrowed a book of mine. She spilled something on it or dropped in the sink - she got it wet - and instead of returning it damaged, she bought me a new one. I wish she hadn't done that though, because, really, I'm not going to read it again.
So, I feel that a precident has been set. But a book, easily found and purchased, is different than one of a dozen martini glasses.
Tuesday, February 14
Not a defeat, nor an embarassment
Last Friday I slept in a church.
Jake and Katie are trying to start a Youth Group in their church for high school kids. They organized a Lock-In. They were going to go Midnight Bowling - despite the "lock-in" name they would be going out. They planned this for weeks. But then, at the last minute, actually the last 8 hours, Katie became sick. They needed another adult to chaperone, so they asked me. Of course, I said Yes, otherwise, this would be a pointless posting going nowhere. (When I was little, I had so much trouble with that last word. I wanted to read it as "now here." Secretly I still do.)
Jake and I arrived at the church early. I scoped out the place so that I would feel comfortable. Then the kids started to arrive. All three of them. Three. And one was technically not in the proper age group. He's 19 but not in college and Jake just wants to be a positive influence for him. So, we sort of had 2-1/2 kids. And 2 chaperones. Jake wanted to cancel, but I asked him to stick with it. We have no idea what sort of positive influence we might have on these kids.
We all talked. We ordered pizza. I went to pick it up. I lost Jake's credit card along the way. Oops. I went looking for the lost credit card. I didn't find it. We decided to go for a drive. We drove around until the bowling began. We ended up singing along with the radio including the Four Non-Blondes. Bowling was fun but I was tired. The night went well. We watched Office Space until everyone fell asleep. I'm not sure if we changed any lives this weekend, but I certainly don't think anyone is worse off than when they woke up on Friday morning.
Jake and Katie are trying to start a Youth Group in their church for high school kids. They organized a Lock-In. They were going to go Midnight Bowling - despite the "lock-in" name they would be going out. They planned this for weeks. But then, at the last minute, actually the last 8 hours, Katie became sick. They needed another adult to chaperone, so they asked me. Of course, I said Yes, otherwise, this would be a pointless posting going nowhere. (When I was little, I had so much trouble with that last word. I wanted to read it as "now here." Secretly I still do.)
Jake and I arrived at the church early. I scoped out the place so that I would feel comfortable. Then the kids started to arrive. All three of them. Three. And one was technically not in the proper age group. He's 19 but not in college and Jake just wants to be a positive influence for him. So, we sort of had 2-1/2 kids. And 2 chaperones. Jake wanted to cancel, but I asked him to stick with it. We have no idea what sort of positive influence we might have on these kids.
We all talked. We ordered pizza. I went to pick it up. I lost Jake's credit card along the way. Oops. I went looking for the lost credit card. I didn't find it. We decided to go for a drive. We drove around until the bowling began. We ended up singing along with the radio including the Four Non-Blondes. Bowling was fun but I was tired. The night went well. We watched Office Space until everyone fell asleep. I'm not sure if we changed any lives this weekend, but I certainly don't think anyone is worse off than when they woke up on Friday morning.
Monday, February 13
Stood Up
I was supposed to go out for lunch with my boss today. But he stood me up for a marketing meeting. But that was ok. We'll go some other time. And this gave me a chance to catch up on some work during that lunch hour.
Tuesday, February 7
They made me do it.
Four Jobs I've Had:
1. Book store clerk / Calendar Man
2. French Fry Artist at the BK Lounge
3. Upward Bound Tutor to the stars
4. Deli Clerk (and sometimes Lobster handler when the seafood lady was on lunch)
Four Movies I Can Watch Over And Over
1. LOTR
2. The Blues Brothers
3. Austin Powers
4. Love, Actually
Four Places I Have Lived
1. Jessup, PA
2. Moscow, PA
3. Boston, MA
4. Milwaukee, WI (no more commonwealths for me!)
Four TV Shows I Love ("Love" is a strong word)
1. Law & Order (when the cast included Benjamin, Jerry, Stephen, Angie, Sam, and Epatha)
2. Ducktales
3. M*A*S*H
4. The West Wing (Seasons I - III)
Four Places I've Vacationed
1. Greece - Athens, Santorini, Delphi, Rhodes, Mykonos, Istanbul (not in Greece)
2. Myrtle Beach
3. Alaska
4. Grand Canyon
Four Of My Favorite Dishes
1. Frank (Mexican Lasagna? It needed a name. Cory thought "Frank" sounded good.)
2. Mom's Christmas Eggs
3. Turkey on white toast w/ lettuce and mayo
4. Sushi is good
Four Sites I Visit Daily
1. Guaranty Bank (just to be sure my money is still there)
2. Our firm's client interface
3. milwaukee.craigslist.org
4. Tom's Blog (because he links to everyone else's)
Four Places I Would Rather Be Right Now
1. Camping at the old Hunting Cabin
2. 18A's table in the dining hall
3. The Olympic Countess
4. Dancing with my friends
Monday, February 6
Friday, February 3
Sushi
Jake and I went for a sushi dinner last night at the local tres chic Japanese/Korean bar. We had a great time. I don't think I've ever been so full on sushi. The highlight of the evening for Jake was the four transvestites that were also dining there. My back was to the room so I didn't get to see them. We also enjoyed watching our cute waitress work her magic on all of the guys in the room. I have to admit though: we also tipped her more than we should have.
Wednesday, February 1
Treat Day
Yesterday was my Treat Day at work. Every Tuesday we all take turns to bring in a treat for everyone else in the office. With about 30 coworkers, one's Treat Day occurs a little over twice a year. Treats are usually bagels, donuts, or homemade baked goods.
This week, it was my turn. I had hoped to design a treat that would coincide with the State of the Union Address. You know, little telephone-shaped cookies or gingerbread men with large ears. However, I could not come up with something clever, so I fell back on the old safety - N&N Cookies (names have been changed for trademark reasons).
Sunday evening I went to the grocery store and picked up my supplies. I prepared two batches. It took me at least 2 hours and I ate quite a few cookies during the process. I messed up the recipe by mixing the ingredients in the wrong order. They didn't look right and when they were baking they began to burn. So, I took them out of the oven earlier than the recipe called for. They looked a little funny, as I earlier wrote, but they tasted fine. I went to bed - no problem. I almost left a note for Jake and Katie to try them in the morning, but thank heavens I didn't.
I woke up on Monday morning just fine. I trudged over to the gym and did my 36 laps (My new minimum - Hurrah!) However, during my final lap I had an incredible urge to get to the bathroom. Right. Then. Immediately. I hopped out of the pool - literally. I skipped a shower. I'm also going to skip the next part of the story with only the comment that gyms with pools should develop "water friendly toilet paper."
I continued along with my morning ritual. Dry off, contacts, avoid the naked old men, try not to sing along with the radio - you know, the usual. Ten minutes later I was back at home. And I immediately made my way to the bathroom. Ok. Something was wrong. I decided not to go to work as I didn't like the idea of running to the men's room at random times. And I have never used a sick day before, so it would be somewhat of an adventure.
The strange thing was, though, that I didn't feel sick. I was already wide awake, so I wasn't going back to bed. I took the opportunity to clean my bathroom. And then the kitchen. And then my room. I talked to Jake and Katie, who had eaten dinner with me the night before but they were fine. So, I figured that it must have been the undercooked cookies. I'm glad that I didn't serve them to the whole office. Well, sort of glad. It would have been a funny experience, especially because it wasn't painful and I never felt sick.
I'm only comfortable telling you this story because everyone at work already knows it. I had ended up going in to the office in the afternoon and my coworkers were nervous about me spreading my germs. So, to keep them from ostracizing me, I had to explain that it was something I made. I then had to promise them that I would buy my treat and not bake for Treat Day.
This week, it was my turn. I had hoped to design a treat that would coincide with the State of the Union Address. You know, little telephone-shaped cookies or gingerbread men with large ears. However, I could not come up with something clever, so I fell back on the old safety - N&N Cookies (names have been changed for trademark reasons).
Sunday evening I went to the grocery store and picked up my supplies. I prepared two batches. It took me at least 2 hours and I ate quite a few cookies during the process. I messed up the recipe by mixing the ingredients in the wrong order. They didn't look right and when they were baking they began to burn. So, I took them out of the oven earlier than the recipe called for. They looked a little funny, as I earlier wrote, but they tasted fine. I went to bed - no problem. I almost left a note for Jake and Katie to try them in the morning, but thank heavens I didn't.
I woke up on Monday morning just fine. I trudged over to the gym and did my 36 laps (My new minimum - Hurrah!) However, during my final lap I had an incredible urge to get to the bathroom. Right. Then. Immediately. I hopped out of the pool - literally. I skipped a shower. I'm also going to skip the next part of the story with only the comment that gyms with pools should develop "water friendly toilet paper."
I continued along with my morning ritual. Dry off, contacts, avoid the naked old men, try not to sing along with the radio - you know, the usual. Ten minutes later I was back at home. And I immediately made my way to the bathroom. Ok. Something was wrong. I decided not to go to work as I didn't like the idea of running to the men's room at random times. And I have never used a sick day before, so it would be somewhat of an adventure.
The strange thing was, though, that I didn't feel sick. I was already wide awake, so I wasn't going back to bed. I took the opportunity to clean my bathroom. And then the kitchen. And then my room. I talked to Jake and Katie, who had eaten dinner with me the night before but they were fine. So, I figured that it must have been the undercooked cookies. I'm glad that I didn't serve them to the whole office. Well, sort of glad. It would have been a funny experience, especially because it wasn't painful and I never felt sick.
I'm only comfortable telling you this story because everyone at work already knows it. I had ended up going in to the office in the afternoon and my coworkers were nervous about me spreading my germs. So, to keep them from ostracizing me, I had to explain that it was something I made. I then had to promise them that I would buy my treat and not bake for Treat Day.
Saturday, January 28
Wrapped up in Books
I'm currently reading East of Eden by John Steinbeck, and I love it. I'm only half-way through it (300 pages) but I'm pretty sure it will be amongst my favorites. This got me to thinking about what books I would list as my top choices. I could never pick one favorite, but I'm pretty sure that I have a top 5. So, here, in no particular order, are my Top 5 Favorite Novels:
1. The Return of the Native
2. Love in the Time of Cholera
3. 1984
4. To Kill a Mockingbird
5. East of Eden (pending)
There is nothing ground-breaking or unexpected about these. I think they could be found on a good number of people's short lists. They're classics. I can pick them up at any time at any point in the book and start reading, and I am pulled into the plot automatically.
I think of their characters as real people. I wish I knew them: Atticus, Diggory, Winston, Fermina. I want to know more about them. I want to go to out for a drink with them. Well, except for Scout and Jem. Maybe I could hang out at the mall with those two, or probably the courthouse, they seemed to enjoy that. The Hamiltons and the Trasks are keeping me company during these past few balmy Wisconsin winter nights. But I have a feeling I'm going to be visiting with them again in the future.
1. The Return of the Native
2. Love in the Time of Cholera
3. 1984
4. To Kill a Mockingbird
5. East of Eden (pending)
There is nothing ground-breaking or unexpected about these. I think they could be found on a good number of people's short lists. They're classics. I can pick them up at any time at any point in the book and start reading, and I am pulled into the plot automatically.
I think of their characters as real people. I wish I knew them: Atticus, Diggory, Winston, Fermina. I want to know more about them. I want to go to out for a drink with them. Well, except for Scout and Jem. Maybe I could hang out at the mall with those two, or probably the courthouse, they seemed to enjoy that. The Hamiltons and the Trasks are keeping me company during these past few balmy Wisconsin winter nights. But I have a feeling I'm going to be visiting with them again in the future.
Friday, January 27
The Comeback Post Part 1
Oh, there's so much pressure to write. And there's pressure to make it a good post, even though I don't know what precedent would have set up that expectation. My last two weeks have been busy but I don't know what events to talk about. A good deal happened, but I don't know how post-worthy it is.
Jake and I threw a party. It was a success - no vomitting. Huzzah. But we still have that bottle of Gordon's vodka that nobody wants to drink.
I went to Washington D.C. to visit KT. It was good. KT worked on Friday so I had the day to get my touristy things out of the way. I started at the zoo. The mane wolf smelled like a skunk. I watched the elephants get their baths (for 45 minutes - it was cool.) The weather was warm so that I didn't even need a jacket. It was perfect for walking around the Mall. I visited Abe and the Korean War Memorial. I walked past the White House and heckled the president (under my breath (Don't roll your eyes. As if he would have heard me if I had yelled it anyway.)). I saw the National Archives, and I still don't see how Nick Cage could have stolen the Dec. of Indo. I learned how astronauts use a toilet in space. I compared the diceratops to the triceratops. And I learned about Sikhs.
I met KT for dinner. Sushi! I didn't tell her that I had also had sushi for lunch until after the meal. I didn't care. It was very good. We went for drinks at the zoo bar, aptly named as it is across the street from the zoo. However, the name is where the zoo-theme ended. Adina and Tyler both called me that night, which was timely because KT and I had spent so much time talking about our freshman year of college over our beers, which were Yuenglings, by the way.
On Saturday, we took the bus out to the National Arboretum. We looked at trees. I enjoyed it, but really, what more can I say?
That evening KT's friends came over and we cooked dinner together. We experimented with pretzel coated chicken and it was a major success. The highlight of dinner was when KT's boyfriend, Brody, laughed so suddenly that milk came out his nose. By middle school standards, this made the evening a huge success. But by adult standards, it had been successful much earlier than that.
That evening we went out. We met up with some more of KT's friends at one of the hot spots of the D.C. nightlife. The place we ended up seemed to have more men than women at it. It was a little strange to be dancing with so many guys. Luckily I was with a group of girls, but still, it was strange.
On Sunday we went to the National Cathedral, which is also within walking distance of KT's apartment. It was Oklahoma Day, which meant that they had a choir from Oklahoma, an Oklahoman Senator, a Native American chief, and other notable Okies, all in one service. But we didn't stay long because I had a flight to catch.
It was a nice vacation. Just long enough to see the sights and to visit with a good friend.
Jake and I threw a party. It was a success - no vomitting. Huzzah. But we still have that bottle of Gordon's vodka that nobody wants to drink.
I went to Washington D.C. to visit KT. It was good. KT worked on Friday so I had the day to get my touristy things out of the way. I started at the zoo. The mane wolf smelled like a skunk. I watched the elephants get their baths (for 45 minutes - it was cool.) The weather was warm so that I didn't even need a jacket. It was perfect for walking around the Mall. I visited Abe and the Korean War Memorial. I walked past the White House and heckled the president (under my breath (Don't roll your eyes. As if he would have heard me if I had yelled it anyway.)). I saw the National Archives, and I still don't see how Nick Cage could have stolen the Dec. of Indo. I learned how astronauts use a toilet in space. I compared the diceratops to the triceratops. And I learned about Sikhs.
I met KT for dinner. Sushi! I didn't tell her that I had also had sushi for lunch until after the meal. I didn't care. It was very good. We went for drinks at the zoo bar, aptly named as it is across the street from the zoo. However, the name is where the zoo-theme ended. Adina and Tyler both called me that night, which was timely because KT and I had spent so much time talking about our freshman year of college over our beers, which were Yuenglings, by the way.
On Saturday, we took the bus out to the National Arboretum. We looked at trees. I enjoyed it, but really, what more can I say?
That evening KT's friends came over and we cooked dinner together. We experimented with pretzel coated chicken and it was a major success. The highlight of dinner was when KT's boyfriend, Brody, laughed so suddenly that milk came out his nose. By middle school standards, this made the evening a huge success. But by adult standards, it had been successful much earlier than that.
That evening we went out. We met up with some more of KT's friends at one of the hot spots of the D.C. nightlife. The place we ended up seemed to have more men than women at it. It was a little strange to be dancing with so many guys. Luckily I was with a group of girls, but still, it was strange.
On Sunday we went to the National Cathedral, which is also within walking distance of KT's apartment. It was Oklahoma Day, which meant that they had a choir from Oklahoma, an Oklahoman Senator, a Native American chief, and other notable Okies, all in one service. But we didn't stay long because I had a flight to catch.
It was a nice vacation. Just long enough to see the sights and to visit with a good friend.
Friday, January 13
NAACP
I got lost on my way to the NAACP on Wednesday night. Why I was going, isn't important. I kept driving up and down Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive (Seriously, some people say the whole name everytime they talk about it.) but I could not find the office. I couldn't even find a respectable building besides a bank. And as the only black woman in my office said later, I was "deep in the 'hood" so I did not feel safe walking around to get a better view of the addresses.
I eventually found a library, the Martin Luther King Library. (Despite its juxtaposition to a police station, this is the branch of the Milwaukee Public Library that had a shooting at it.) I went inside and asked for directions to the NAACP. The security guard directed me to the reference desk, where the other white person in the room was seated. The librarian was helpful. We checked some websites, but eventually turned to the Address Listing Book, which is really cool. You just turn to an address and find out what's there. It's an artifact from PG - pre-google. It was incredible.
It turns out that the NAACP's office is in the basement of the bank. I found it, but I was fifteen minutes late. Better late than never.
I eventually found a library, the Martin Luther King Library. (Despite its juxtaposition to a police station, this is the branch of the Milwaukee Public Library that had a shooting at it.) I went inside and asked for directions to the NAACP. The security guard directed me to the reference desk, where the other white person in the room was seated. The librarian was helpful. We checked some websites, but eventually turned to the Address Listing Book, which is really cool. You just turn to an address and find out what's there. It's an artifact from PG - pre-google. It was incredible.
It turns out that the NAACP's office is in the basement of the bank. I found it, but I was fifteen minutes late. Better late than never.
Intervention
Last Friday I was to meet Mick and Kate for drinks at a local Irish pub after their dinner with Kate's family. Their friends would also be out so I'd have a chance to meet some more young Milwaukeeans.
I was sitting in my apartment alone, just waiting for the agreed time, so I decided to walk to the pub early. I would stop for dinner along the way and it would help kill the time. Well, the walk and pizza were not enough because I arrived too early. But no big deal - I'm confident. I'm secure. I can sit at a bar alone and wait for my friends. Of course I can - but not without drawing the attention of the bartenders.
The bar is cute. It has small rooms because it used to be a home. An Irish band plays in one of the rooms. There's a fireplace. And a host greets you when you enter and helps you to find an appropriate table for your party.
I sat down at the end of the bar and ordered a whiskey and coke. Just that afternoon, I had learned that I had not passed my actuarial exam from November so I was planning my next few months professionally. I thought I was just paranoid, but it seemed like the bartenders were watching and talking about me. After fifteen minutes or so, one of them, I think the owner, approached me. He asked, "How are you doing tonight? Is everything ok?"
"Yes, thank you. I'm good." And then I realized his concern wasn't that my glass was empty, his concern was that my life was empty. I quickly tried to exude confidence. I sat up straighter. I smiled, not just with my mouth, but my eyes too. I said, "Yeah, my friends are running late, but it's no big deal."
He probably didn't believe me; he said with a tone to imply deep concern, "Well if you need anything from us, you just let one of us know, ok?"
"Ok, thanks."
When Mick and Kate arrived, their friends already had a table in another room. Kate retrieved me from the bar and, as always, greeted me with a hug. As we walked to the next room, she ask me, "Why was that bartender grinning at us? What were you talking to her about?" I explained that I had not even talked to that particular bartender, but I don't think that she appreciated the story until we were leaving and all of the waitstaff waved to me and wished me a good night.
Some people have thought that the actions of the staff were strange, but I found them to be honorable. Despite their busy night, the workers were caring and genuine. It was refreshing to find strangers so concerned.
I was sitting in my apartment alone, just waiting for the agreed time, so I decided to walk to the pub early. I would stop for dinner along the way and it would help kill the time. Well, the walk and pizza were not enough because I arrived too early. But no big deal - I'm confident. I'm secure. I can sit at a bar alone and wait for my friends. Of course I can - but not without drawing the attention of the bartenders.
The bar is cute. It has small rooms because it used to be a home. An Irish band plays in one of the rooms. There's a fireplace. And a host greets you when you enter and helps you to find an appropriate table for your party.
I sat down at the end of the bar and ordered a whiskey and coke. Just that afternoon, I had learned that I had not passed my actuarial exam from November so I was planning my next few months professionally. I thought I was just paranoid, but it seemed like the bartenders were watching and talking about me. After fifteen minutes or so, one of them, I think the owner, approached me. He asked, "How are you doing tonight? Is everything ok?"
"Yes, thank you. I'm good." And then I realized his concern wasn't that my glass was empty, his concern was that my life was empty. I quickly tried to exude confidence. I sat up straighter. I smiled, not just with my mouth, but my eyes too. I said, "Yeah, my friends are running late, but it's no big deal."
He probably didn't believe me; he said with a tone to imply deep concern, "Well if you need anything from us, you just let one of us know, ok?"
"Ok, thanks."
When Mick and Kate arrived, their friends already had a table in another room. Kate retrieved me from the bar and, as always, greeted me with a hug. As we walked to the next room, she ask me, "Why was that bartender grinning at us? What were you talking to her about?" I explained that I had not even talked to that particular bartender, but I don't think that she appreciated the story until we were leaving and all of the waitstaff waved to me and wished me a good night.
Some people have thought that the actions of the staff were strange, but I found them to be honorable. Despite their busy night, the workers were caring and genuine. It was refreshing to find strangers so concerned.
Wednesday, January 4
Resolutions 2006
1. Weekday Bedtime = 11 pm.
Not even reading after this time. Accomplishing this will help my morning exercising, keep me focused at work, and allow for more efficient studying.
2. Eat out for lunch only once each week.
Hopefully this will help to thin the waist and thicken the wallet.
3. Drink less.
Alcohol that is. I seriously don’t think this one will happen.
4. Donate as much money to my church as I spend on alcohol in a week.
Just to keep perspective as I give and as I drink.
5. Make a budget.
I have superior Excel skills. Why am I not using them to become more financially responsible?
In case you were keeping score, I broke Resolutions 1 and 3 on January 2.
Not even reading after this time. Accomplishing this will help my morning exercising, keep me focused at work, and allow for more efficient studying.
2. Eat out for lunch only once each week.
Hopefully this will help to thin the waist and thicken the wallet.
3. Drink less.
Alcohol that is. I seriously don’t think this one will happen.
4. Donate as much money to my church as I spend on alcohol in a week.
Just to keep perspective as I give and as I drink.
5. Make a budget.
I have superior Excel skills. Why am I not using them to become more financially responsible?
In case you were keeping score, I broke Resolutions 1 and 3 on January 2.
Monday, January 2
Back from BONYE 2006
I would have to say that BONYE 2006 was a huge success. I'm back in Milwaukee, finally cleaning my clothes. I'm still smarting from the bruises that I got from snowboarding. I'm trying to put together a timeline of New Year's Eve. Who left the bar when and with whom? And why did they leave? I have a feeling that none of know everything, but then a part of me doesn't want to know everything.
Everytime I go back to Massachusetts I feel the pull to move back there. I know that it's not all party, party, party, but that's not what I miss. I miss the friends with a comfort level that we can spend all day long teasing each other. And this weekend has provided so much new teasing material.
Everytime I go back to Massachusetts I feel the pull to move back there. I know that it's not all party, party, party, but that's not what I miss. I miss the friends with a comfort level that we can spend all day long teasing each other. And this weekend has provided so much new teasing material.
Monday, December 26
Christmas Recap
While I've been in Moscow, I have had absolutely no motivation to contact old friends. Well, one of them. But this is very irregular for me. I'm usually the guy contacting every person in my old phone list and organizing rides and stuff. But, now, I don't really feel like talking to anyone. It's not that I don't want to see them; I just don't want to organize it. One night, though, I did go out with two of my cousins - Lindsey and Mike. Mike recently turned 21, not that that should be construed to mean he's green. I picked up Mike and we met his sister at the hot spot of Scranton. We wandered around it, looking for Lindsey. Mike saw a good number of people that he knew and talked with them. I saw a good number of people that I know, and I avoided their gaze. Part of me wonders if they recognized me anyway. But then when we finally found Lindsey, one of the guys in her group said he knew me from my high school. I did not recognize him. But he was short, bald, and jacked. I'm guessing that in high school he was only short. He seemed a little bothered by the fact that his name was not familiar to me at all. Luckily I had not had much to drink or I may have pointed out that I was well known in high school and he probably wasn't. (Not that I want to fall back on high school class structure but I was always speaking in front of the school and I was a leader of half a dozen clubs. I was the Oracle of the Dead Language Society, for Zeus's sake!) I convinced my cousin's to go to a different bar down the street. I knew that some friends of mine would be there. We'd be able to sit down. The band would be quiet enough that we could talk. And the crowd would be a little older. I'm happy that we went. I met Carrie's fiance and we talked about meeting each other when I'm in Washington D.C. next month. I mentioned to Jim again that forestry is a booming industry in Wisconsin - because it apparently isn't in PA. I saw Ed, who went to Greece with me before our senior year of high school. We were never close friends, but we'll always have that tie between us. It's still listed as the best week of my life. Another classmate of mine was there - Alex. I haven't talked to him since graduation, but it was nice to see him again. He kept reminding me of elementary school. Why didn't anyone ever tell us during those second grade lunches, that the social skills we honed there would someday be useful at a bar fifteen years down the road? My cousins and I left the bar at a reasonable hour. I drove them home and we had a good conversation about our family. It was good to get their opinions on things that Kelly and I talk about like our parents and grandparents.On Christmas, my aunt told me that they had had a good time out with me. They then teased me by telling everyone how sloppy I was and how I'm a talkative drunk. I was reminded of how serious my family thinks I am and how most of them don't understand me. I hope that my time with my cousins has at least convinced them that I'm not a stiff bore and that we'll continue to go out whenever we're all home at the same time. |
Saturday, December 24
From Moscow
Sometimes my mom makes comments like, "Why aren't you staying in town longer?" or "Why don't you use more vacation to come home?" The highlight of my day today was watching the Sumo World Championship on ESPN2. I didn't know that white guys compete in stuff like that. The Bulgarians were kicking butt. |
Sunday, December 18
Ugly Christmas Sweater
I crashed an ugly Christmas sweater party last night. Christie brought me along to a coworker’s party. Lucky for me though, she had spent the day scouring the Goodwill for sweater that I could wear. It was actually a sweatshirt. It had a large bear in Christmas-wear on the front. And then on the back, was the back of the bear. It was sweet. The sleeves only came down to three quarters of my arms. I made the finals in the sweater-off, but the guy in the woman’s candy cane sweater and Santa troll pin took home the prize.
During the party, Christie and I were talking about holiday plans and whether or not we’d be going home. Another party guest overheard us talking about Moscow, PA and was interested to hear more about our hometown. It turns out that he knows someone in Moscow and has been there a few times. We quizzed him on places and names and it turns out that he really had been to NEPA. What a strange coincidence.
Wisconsin is cold. Seriously, when the temperature reaches the twenties, we all talk about how warm it is. And there are no traces of sarcasm.
During the party, Christie and I were talking about holiday plans and whether or not we’d be going home. Another party guest overheard us talking about Moscow, PA and was interested to hear more about our hometown. It turns out that he knows someone in Moscow and has been there a few times. We quizzed him on places and names and it turns out that he really had been to NEPA. What a strange coincidence.
Wisconsin is cold. Seriously, when the temperature reaches the twenties, we all talk about how warm it is. And there are no traces of sarcasm.
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