The Startler

I startle easily.
That is, I startle others with
a frequency
that startles me.
I'm not scary, not like
flesh-hungry
animals, dark-alley killers,
or bill collectors.
I don't hide around corners,
in nooks or behind doors.
I don't wait for you to
wander past me so I can
jump out with a yell,
arms outstretched,
laugh at your expense.
No, my method is subtle. My
footsteps are quiet. I don't take up
much space
in a room, and if you
don't expect
me to be there,
my presence is enough
to boost your
heart rate

homage to my hips (by Lucille Clifton)

homage to my hips
by Lucille Clifton

these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!

Forced Celebration

Like an inspired prank, or a purposeful
lesson, my car--not mine, the one I use
to buy organic groceries and chauffeur privileged children,
would not start today. Not a sound
came from her engine as I turned the ignition.
A dome light, left on the entire weekend (thanks to
privileged, forgetful children), sucked all life from the battery.
And so it was, on this Earth Day, I
walked to buy organic groceries and escorted privileged,
forgetful, and bummed out children on the train.

The Egg Boiler (by Gwendolyn Brooks)

The Egg Boiler
by Gwendolyn Brooks

Being you, you cut your poetry from wood.
The boiling of an egg is heavy art.
You come upon it as an artist should,
With rich-eyed passion, and with straining heart.
We fools, we cut our poems out of air,
Night color, wind soprano, and such stuff.
And sometimes weightlessness is much to bear.
You mock it, though, you name it it Not Enough.
The egg, spooned gently to the avid pan,
And left the strict three minutes, or the four,
Is your Enough and art for any man.
We fools give courteous ear -- then cut some more,
Shaping a gorgeous Nothingness from cloud.
You watch us, eat your egg, and laugh aloud.

Ode to the Cason Burger

I had the best burger of my life last night. I want to write songs about it, but this serious/silly poem will do for now.

Thank heaven for the cow who
sacrificed herself for my dinner.
She was a beauty, and her meals of grass
became much more for me.
Sitting on that bun, buttered delicately
like a fine mist of dew on a peach,
her medium-cooked beef took me to
a place where tastes explode like fireworks
over the oohs and aahs of eager taste buds.
Don't let me forget the cow who gave her milk
for the camembert that melted over the beef
like a silk scarf draped over a lamp, adding
mystery and a hint of drama to the room.
And the pig--oh, what a pig, applewood smoked
until crispy and sweet salty, floating on that cheese,
the entire trio swimming in Dijon on arugula floats.
I could end here, the memory of a perfect burger
lingering in my mouth even the morning after--but
my memory won't let me leave out the surprise win:
ginger poached pears, poised and stoic, ushering
this burger into the hallowed halls of food legend.

The Self and the Mulberry (by Marvin Bell)

The Self and the Mulberry
by Marvin Bell

I wanted to see the self, so I looked at the mulberry.
It had no trouble accepting its limits,
yet defining and redefining a small area
so that any shape was possible, any movement.
It stayed put, but was part of all the air.
I wanted to learn to be there and not there
like the continually changing, slightly moving
mulberry, wild cherry and particularly the willow.
Like the willow, I tried to weep without tears.
Like the cherry tree, I tried to be sturdy and productive.
Like the mulberry, I tried to keep moving.
I couldn't cry right, couldn't stay or go.
I kept losing parts of myself like a soft maple.
I fell ill like the elm. That was the end
of looking in nature to find a natural self.
Let nature think itself not manly enough!
Let nature wonder at the mystery of laughter.
Let nature hypothesize man's indifference to it.
Let nature take a turn at saying what love is!

Week End

Unending shards of glass cut my face,
melt and mix with my sweat.
I blink, the road changing instantly:
dry, wet, slick,
it reflects the orange streetlights as I
emerge onto Western Ave, congested with
rush hour stragglers and now the glass
turns to knives, no longer scratching, but
slicing into me. I don't feel my legs anymore.
I am only a face, blindly making my way
home.

I woke up so early

The Whole Foods wasn't even open when I got there.

I had to wait in my car--not my car,

the car I use to get organic groceries--

while commuters fought to make the light

on Ashland. I watched from the empty parking lot

as traffic stalled, pedestrians crossing between vehicles

stuck in the intersection. I cleaned the garbage

from the car and wondered why I don't do

mornings more often.

Curriculum Vitae

A woman stands next to me,
contemplating the sprinkles and frosting
in the baking aisle at the grocery store.
Her basket holds marshmallows and cereal,
her phone balances on her shoulder:
"Let me call you back. I have an interview
in five minutes." She only hesitates a moment before
adding a bag of chocolate chips to her resume.

Some Days (a poem by Billy Collins)

Some Days by Billy Collins

Some days I put the people in their places at the table, bend their legs at the knees, if they come with that feature, and fix them into the tiny wooden chairs. All afternoon they face one another, the man in the brown suit, the woman in the blue dress, perfectly motionless, perfectly behaved. But other days, I am the one who is lifted up by the ribs, then lowered into the dining room of a dollhouse to sit with the others at the long table. Very funny, but how would you like it if you never knew from one day to the next if you were going to spend it striding around like a vivid god, your shoulders in the clouds, or sitting down there amidst the wallpaper, staring straight ahead with your little plastic face?

Moving In

We have new neighbors.
They live across our bedroom window and appear
minimalist. Sparse furniture, sheer curtains,
scattered decor makes them seem torn
from a catalog. I have yet to see them in person;
I'm sure they're lovely.

Salt

For best results, they say, eliminate
sodium consumption, but I am not a snail.
I want Lot's wife to shake herself
over my soup. Give me a Roman soldier's salary,
I would march with Ghandi for independence
and flavor, anything to preserve
my sanity during a bland diet.
I don't mind water retention, I like my blood
with some pressure.

Just Listen

Loyal Readers,

You've been reading a lot of poetry this month, some mine, some not, some solid, some not--how about listening to poetry today? Here are some spoken word poems/slam poetry/poetry readings.

Marc Kelly Smith, "Slam Papi," founder of the slam poetry movement & Chicagoan:



Johnny Macrae, Canadian poet



Rives--this one almost made me cry.



Saul Williams, poet/musician (at their hearts, they are the same thing though, right?)



Franny Choi

Compromise

I chewed two
pieces of gum this week.
I know it's not
fruit or vegetable,
but I think we
can agree it's not bread
or cheese either.

Approved

My bank decided they could trust me
with a credit limit of $1,000.
Me, the one who sort of paid her taxes today.
(I didn't read the last few pages of the online e-file instructions.)
Me, the one who whines when she is hungry, hot, or tired--
never mind all three, then I'm not even me, but a nasty creature,
a temperamental child, a force of nature that no one deserves to meet.
Yet: my bank trusts me with credit.
I eat lemon bars and bagels for breakfast,
drink wine and have chocolate chips for dinner,
order new contacts online in the middle of the night,
sleep with several stuffed animals.
Still: my bank trusts me with credit.

Blue Line

We shuffled onto the train,
somber as a funeral procession,
and rode into the city.

The gray sky and fluorescent lights
washed us out:
we looked like bored ghosts,
riding endless tracks in the not-yet-daylight.

When the train descended
underground, we looked
more alive, as if the earth pressing down
held us together.

Silver-Lined Heart (by Taylor Mali)

I'm currently working a poem that lists: dos and don'ts, beliefs, rules, what I'm for and against, and this is one of the model poems I've found helpful. It's a tough line to walk, between uplifting and cheesy, and Taylor Mali toes it here. I don't care. There are too many sweet little nuggets: the image of champagne flutes in a car trunk, the idea of celebrating "long, cold winters" (HA), and the simple inspiration of "And as far as writing poems goes,/I guess you should." Yes, yes I know. I should.

Silver­‐Lined Heart
by Taylor Mali

I’m for reckless abandon
and spontaneous celebrations of nothing at all,
like the twin flutes I kept in the trunk of my car
in a box labeled Emergency Champagne Glasses!

Raise an unexpected glass to long, cold winters
and sweet hot summers and the beautiful confusion of the times in between.
To the unexpected drenching rain that leaves you soaking
wet and smiling breathless;

Here’s to the soul‐expanding power of the universally
optimistic simplicity of the beautiful.

See, things you hate, things you despise,
multinational corporations and lies that politicians tell,
injustices that make you mad as hell,
that’s all well and good.
And as far as writing poems goes,
I guess you should.
It just might be a poem that gets Mumia released,
brings an end to terrorism or peace in the middle east.

But as far as what soothes me, what inspires and moves me,
honesty behooves me to tell you your rage doesn’t move me.
See, like the darkest of clouds my heart has a silver lining,
which does not harken to the loudest whining,
but beats and stirs and grows ever more
when I learn of the things you’re actually for.

That’s why I’m for best friends, long drives, and smiles,
nothing but the sound of thinking for miles.
For the unconditional love of dogs:
may we learn the lessons of their love by heart.
For therapy when you need it,
and poetry when you need it.
And the wisdom to know the difference.

I’m for hard work, and homework,
and chapter tests, and cumulative exams,
and yearly science fairs, and pop quizzes
when you least expect them just to keep everybody honest.
For love and the fragile human heart,
may it always heal stronger than it was before.
For walks in the woods, and the for the woods themselves,
by which I mean the trees. Definitely for the trees.
Window seats, and locally brewed beer,
and love letters written by hand with fountain pens:
I’m for all of these.

For Galway Kinnell, and Rufus Wainright,
and Mos Def, and the Indigo Girls,
and getting closer to fine each and every day.

For the integrity it takes not to lightly suffer fools.
For God, and faith, and prayers, but not in public schools.

I’m for evolution more than revolution
unless you’re offering some kind of solution.
Isn’t that how we got the Consitution?

For charm and charisma and style
without being a self­‐important prig.
For chivalry and being a gentleman at the risk of being called a male chauvinist pig.

I’m for crushes not acted upon, for admiration from afar,
for intense sessions of self love,
especially if they make you a nicer person.

I’m for the courage it takes to volunteer, to say “yes,” “I believe in this,” and “I will.”
For the bright side, the glass half full, the silver lining,
and the optimists who consider darkness just a different kind of shining.

I’m for what can be achieved more than for what i would want in an ideal world.
I’m for working every day to make the world a better place
and not complaining about how it isn’t

So don’t waste my time and your curses on verses
about what you are against, despise, and abhor.
Tell me what inspires you, what fulfills and fires you,
put your gaddamn pen to paper and tell me what you’re for!

Statement Pieces

My neighbor, the hoarder, currently has three clocks on her mantel
separated by a stack of books, a ballerina figurine, and a kitchen pan.
A giant orange kimono hangs on the wall above.
Her desk, which is also her table and home to bowls filled with unknown substances,
various articles of clothing, and an old-timey handheld telescope,
sits behind her couch. I think there is a couch there, among
overgrown ferns, half-assembled shelving units,
one of possibly two or three cats,
lamps, blankets, decorative tins, empty booze bottles, and collectible plates.
In her yard, 38 unique plant holders hold just dirt and the dry brown
remnants of last year's garden.
One of the plant holders is a bedpan.
Two are shaped like chickens, with holes in their backs
where a plant should grow.
The first leans precariously on a compost pile, resting its head on the tarp-covered grill, while the other
sits on a cinder block, weedy grass growing around her like a nest.

Auto-Pilot

11:30: leave apartment, forget deodorant.
3 beds made
3 loads of laundry
dinner for 3 prepped and prepared
1-800-CALL to return 3 pairs of stockings and exchange 3 more,
and can we get the hole in this jacket fixed?
Target: return Cap'n Crunch and Arnold Palmer,
we have no need of those two.
Stand in line at post office. Pay with cash.
Whole Foods:
2 kiwis
1 dozen eggs
3 pears
1 bottle of ketchup
1 red pepper
a handful of carrots
Pick up 13-yr old.
Drop off 13-yr old.
Jewel:
3 navel oranges, no bag I'll just juggle them to the car.
Fill up with gas:
8 gallons and several hundred rewards points, never redeemed.
Ride home: Damen, Webster, Leavitt, McLean, alley, Armitage.
Eat dinner, or don't, or sort of do, then give up and snack all night.
11:30: fall asleep, forget to brush teeth.

Love Hungry For Itself (by Taylor Mali)

Love Hungry For Itself
by Taylor Mali

I love my wife, but I have never loved her
the way she deserves to be loved.
Nor has she loved me in the same way.

Once, we went to bed together
too tired to do anything but kiss,
which we did with our lips drifting.

But after the first dream, love hungry
for itself, we found ourselves making more
with great desire and the divinity of dark.

Leave me this great imperfect love
in which the body knows to seek
what the heart does not think it needs.

Perfect Wife

I can put dinner on the table--
not just food. Dinner:
hot, colorful, food pyramid-approved.
While you eat, your laundry sits on your (freshly made) bed--
washed, dried, folded, ironed.

I can clean a bathroom, change a light bulb, program a TV remote
--but that's nothing compared to how I
replace a water filter cartridge, rewire a closet light, or plant a garden.

I will decorate a Christmas tree,
hand out Halloween candy,
hide Easter eggs,
wrap birthday gifts,
buy Valentine's Day chocolate,
and return any/all of these items when
you decide you changed your mind...
so you don't have to.

You just worry about winning the bread;
I'll worry about baking it.

Cruising Music

A man plays a harmonica in his car while driving down my street.
I rake last fall's dead leaves from the yard and think:
That's poetic, but dangerous,
making your own cruising music.

The Dream Keeper (by Langston Hughes)

I love the image of someone keeping my dreams "Away from the too-rough fingers/Of the world." 

The Dream Keeper

By Langston Hughes

Bring me all of your dreams,

You dreamers,

Bring me all of your

Heart melodies

That I may wrap them

In a blue cloud-cloth

Away from the too-rough fingers

Of the world.

This is Just to Say (by William Carlos Williams)

One of my favorite poems. I love "found" poetry.

This is Just to Say
by William Carlos Williams

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

Excuses

I can't write today because
I'm cleaning my windows
There's laundry to fold
I want to use curse words willy nilly
All I want to write about is
Failed relationships
Secrets from my diary
Bathroom humor
I haven't had enough experiences
I've never been to Paris
I'm not a mother
I didn't read Anna Karenina
I don't live in the woods
I have to wash my hair.

Token Poem

We are only one week into this challenge
and already I'm poring over my Poet's Companion
looking for inspiration.
I'm more comfortable sitting with the poems inside
than sitting with the poetic voice I've developed--
I don't hate it so much as it annoys me.

Each exercise entices me,
makes me think
Yeah. Yeah, I could do that.
Then I try and realize
it's not as easy as I think and
is this really all it takes?
"It" being poetry
writing, crafting, composing
entertaining.

Yes.
and no.

Txtng

I dropped my phone in vinegar yesterday
now the keys don't always work.
I send strange messages:

Wats hapenig tonght?
here are yo?
Yum izza.
I loe you.

I'm a little worried
no one seems to notice.

still unfinished

"Your intellect may be confused, but your emotions will never lie to you" - Roger Ebert

If my emotions never lie,
then the truth changes--
contradicts itself even--
several times each day.

BUT
that is okay. Because, in the words
of John Keats and his Grecian Urn,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,"--that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

No where does he say:
truth is permanent
there is only one beauty
you have a lot to learn--

A Poem by a Poet

Because it is National Poetry Month, I'm writing a poem a day until the end of April. So are various other poets, amateur and professional (read: paid). Taylor Mali, one of the pros, is posting his poems on his blog as well, but this is one he wrote in January. I am a fan.

What You’ll Look Like When You’re Abducted
by Taylor Mali

This morning, I asked if I could take your picture
to have when we travel so that when you’re abducted,
I’ll be able to go straight to the local police and say,
This is what she looks like. Please, help me find her!

You who had just awoken laughed and said doing so
would likely make the police consider me a suspect,
which I said I could live with, having nothing to hide.
I’m an organized man. I just love you and want you back.

You looked unconvinced and sleepy still, but perhaps
remembered how once, decades before I ever knew you,
an official at the American Embassy told me the only thing
stopping her from issuing me an instant emergency passport

(to replace the one I had lost while on a camel safari in Kenya)
was two regulation passport photos, two simple photos, which
could be obtained from any copy shop or photography studio
I might be able to find open. In Nairobi. On a Saturday night.

I asked you if you wanted a shower before I took the picture.
Perhaps a chance to put on makeup. And I’ll be damned
if I didn’t fall deeper in love with you for saying, No.
My hair is filthy and disheveled. I’m tired and need my coffee.

Take the picture now.

Runway

Why is the wind always at my face in this city?
It pushes me back, forces me to work to get where I go.
It's a success that I get anywhere at all.

When I was a kid, I loved it--
the wind blowing against my face,
my hair dancing around my head.

Now I wish the wind pushed me
to my destination.
I don't need its help to feel like a model.

Hired

I dreamed about a job interview.
It went like this:
they suggested I let my hair down,
asked me to join them for a meal.

Before I found out if I got the job,
the interviewers turned into children:
they ate everything on my plate.

Every Mess Has a Silver Lining

Dirty laundry means I just got back from vacation.
Piles of books mean I'm never bored.
Dirty dishes mean I enjoyed a home-cooked meal.
Candy wrappers mean I had dessert too.
Exhaustion means I had a full day.

Out Like a Lamb

March got a lot happier as it went along...mostly because I left the country during the last week. Anyway, here's the list, How to Be Happier: March.

1. Write a letter to someone special. Signed, sealed, delivered.
2. Create a photo album of your life. These days who doesn't have several photo albums of various forms scattered about?
3. Let go of something or someone who has been a chronic irritation. I recently went through my facebook friends and deleted several fun-suckers.
4. Perform a routine out of normal sequence or location. I went to South America and performed the routine of life!
5. Observe yourself without judgement. I try to do this often.
6. Open a new savings account for a special purpose. I bought a new wallet does that count?
7. Plant fresh herbs. We have basil and I'm trying to grow miniature strawberries!
8. Do something special with someone else's child. I spent a week with my mom and dad's child in South America!
9. Make a list of what you like about yourself. Hair, humor, eyes, butt, taste in music, cooking skills, ability to eat large amounts of food, interior decorating style, dance moves...
10. Sit back-to-back with someone and express yourselves. I think we did something like this during MercyWorks?
11. Immerse yourself in color. My apartment is quite colorful.
12. Volunteer your time. I give my time to things I find important, whether they be organizations, friends, or food preparation.
13. Have a lively conversation with someone. My friends keep most conversations lively.
14. Look for coincidences. This is really hard to do on command.
15. Dress differently. Differently than what?
16. Trade roles with someone. I like playing pretend.
17. Give someone a gift. Done.
18. Organize a wine tasting. Does it count if I was the only person in attendance?
19. Write down your dreams. I do this when I have particularly interesting or vivid dreams. Last night I dreamed about shopping for pasta and jeans...
20. Take a long walk in nature. I took a several hours long walk down La Rambla with my sister in South America!
21. Clean out your closets. Ah yes, spring cleaning. Feels good.
22. Plant a tree to remember someone dear to you. If I had a yard...
23. Don't wear a watch. Ha! Jokes on you, my watch battery is dead.
24. Play the Date Game. Epstein defines this as picking out a date, then talking about what you did then. I'd call that the memory game and I do it whenever I get with friends. Doing it with a stranger might be interesting.
25. Imagine your life has just begun. It feels that way after coming back from vacation, like life stopped while I was gone and now it's new. I like that feeling.
26. Listen to songs you loved as a teen. Let me introduce you to my 90s Pandora station.
27. Compliment everyone with whom you interact. Out loud?
28. Pamper your body. Done! 
29. Bargain for something. I bargained with my boyfriend for dinner...the most I can ever get is cheese and veggies cut for me. Work in progress.
30. Decorate your work space. Well, I work in someone else's home...and that's decorated tastefully. I consider my room my personal work space and it's plenty decorated.
31. Do whatever you feel like doing. My usual MO. Within reason. I went to South America because I felt like it, but also because I had time off from work.

March was awful and then it was amazing. The weather super bummed me out, but I left the country and things got extremely better. I have some color in my skin, the days are getting longer, I can cross Visit South America off my bucket list, and I have an Easter package on its way to my apartment. Spring is feeling good.

Happy Easter/Home Again

Three flights and several naps later, I'm back in Chicago. All my travels went well on my way back to the States. I had two seats to myself on the long overnight flight, so I could actually stretch out and lay down to sleep, and I got the window seat on my other two flights. My ankles didn't swell up on my return trip like they did on the way south, so that was nice. Even though my last flight was delayed due to weather, my luggage and I made it home only a little grimy.

After a shower and some laundry, I'm celebrating Easter with Jesus. We made rice and beans (I haven't had any beans this whole week!) and if we can agree on anything, we'll chill out with a movie. Not the most traditional of Easters, but I made sure to eat some chocolate and I might even leave my dirty dishes for another day (reminder: washing dishes was my Lenten observance).

Hallelujah, Jesus is risen and I am free to be in my pajamas before dusk.

Valizas

We're back! It's strange going on vacation while you're on vacation. And if I thought shlepping it in Bailey's apartment was giving me a taste of life in a third world country, Valizas was the whole meal.

Wednesday:
Bailey, her roommate Anna, and I took the bus up the coast. Who knows how long the trip would normally be, but it took about five hours since we kept dropping off and picking up random people willy nilly. The Uruguayan countryside is essentially the same as the Midwestern countryside, give or take a few palm trees.

Once we got to Valizas, we walked through 'town' to the beach house we stayed in. There were several restaurants, a bar, a food mart, and small souvenir shops. Our beach house was a tiny little thing with one bedroom and a few cots. The shower head in the bathroom was right over the toilet, so showering was interesting. None of that mattered, though, because the parilla (covered patio area where the giant grill is) was big and fully functioning. We had an asado that night: grilled chorizo, steak, bread, cheese, and peppers.

Thursday:
Bailey and I got up to hit the beach nice and early (aka 11:30). We walked along the shore, then found a spot for a nice sunny nap. The houses right on the beach are tiny and hidden behind small sand dunes. There are giant dunes on one edge of the town, stretching out into the ocean. Needing to get out of the sun for a bit, we walked into town to get milanesa (breaded fried meat) for lunch and churros for dessert. We got the churros from a guy selling them from a tiny cart. He made them fresh for us, and they were the best churros I've ever had: crunchy and coated in sugar on the outside, just a tad soft on the inside.

After lunch it was time for more beach naps. Altogether we were only in direct sun for about four hours, but we both felt it. We took a quick dip in the ocean (how many times does a Midwestern girl get to say that?) to cool off and headed back to town for some homemade ice cream.

Thursday night we had yet another asado, this time with more variation. We had several friends over and grilled corn, potatoes, sweet potatoes, bread, meat and peppers filled with egg and cheese. Even though I speak basically zero Spanish and most of their friends speak little to no English, everyone understands the language of food.

Friday:
Bailey and got in one last beach walk, wherein Bailey made sure I got my feet wet ('When is the next time you will be in the Southern Hemisphere at the ocean?') and we semi-adopted a dog, who trotted alongside us the whole way. The dogs in Valizas are rarely tied up and make friends with everyone, especially people grilling meat all night long. Our bus left I the afternoon and we napped our way back to Montevideo and 21st century technology. Valizas has electricity and running water, but that's about as far as amenities go. What else do you need at the beach?

Tonight Bailey and I made sushi and chilled for my last night here. The weather is gorgeous and we are both glad to be back to her comfy bed. Tomorrow I will say my goodbyes and head back to the States!

Ciudad Vieja y Mas Naps

Today Bailey and I took a bus to the oldest part of Montevideo, the part that used to be the entire city. We saw the most popular plaza in the city along with what used to be the tallest building in South America. Then we walked all the way to the shore and out onto a long pier next to the port. There were families out for walks and fishermen lined the concrete water break. After resting in the sun for a bit we walked along La Rambla and back into the city center. We took a bus back home, stopping at a second hand store along the way. Then, Nap Time! I'm starting to get used to a mid afternoon nap before nightly activities commence.

Tonight we are going to an asado at a friend's house on the edge of the city. Grilled meat, how I've missed thee.

Tomorrow we set out for a short trip up the shore; that's where the real beach naps begin!

Life in UY

There is sunshine here! It's a miracle. Yesterday Bailey and I walked through the feria (market). We saw two guys get into a fight after exchanging some colorful language. I won't translate for you, but let's just say you wouldn't want your grandma to overhear you talking like they were.

Last night we went to eat dinner at Laura and Dudu's. Bailey and her roommate Anna used to live there before finding their apartment. The food was great and it was an interesting experience--lots of language mixing and explaining stories with hand motions and gestures.

Today Bailey and I took a super long walk on La Rambla in preparation for our giant lunch. We worked up a pretty nice sweat, then labored over some chivitos (fried steak sandwiches with various toppings).

Estoy aqui

I've been in Uruguay for just over 12 hours and I've already taken two naps. This country is great.

I hope to see more of the city/Bailey's neighborhood in the next few days. So far, many things remind me of Rome: small streets, red Coca Cola tables and chairs set up outside of food shops, the tiny grocery store, and not understanding much of anything. Bailey's apartment is similar to the one I lived in in Rome as well, right down to the Chinese lantern light covers.

Best of all: I'm wearing a tank top and I'm comfortable!

As the Uruguayans Do

It's Spring Break! I'm done with work until April! This vacation couldn't have come at a better time--what I mean by that is CHICAGO IS AWFUL RIGHT NOW. Today was the first day of sun in what seems like weeks, but the cold is still biting. I can't wait to wear less than three layers and feel my toes again.

Brooke told my she's jealous of my "simple" trip--she's going back to Africa for Spring Break--all I have to do is get on a few planes and let my hosts/tour guides do all the rough work. I don't have to entertain anyone, and I have no agenda other than to see Bailey, relax, and check out where she's living these days.

I brushed up on some Spanish this past week, but I'm sure I'll rely on Bailey to do most of my translating. Even if I do understand conversations, joining in/speaking/getting the accent right is a big step for a gringa who hasn't left the country in four years.

All that stands between me and South America is 12 hours, three long flights, and a suitcase that won't close. Adios, Chicago.

March Madness

I've got my brackets filled out and the mobile game tracker downloaded to my iPod. I'm ready for the madness. I didn't do a whole lot of research while I picked my teams, but I did take some advice from President Obama. He's rooting for the Big 10 this year, and even has Wisconsin upsetting Gonzaga. Kid President's advice was less helpful, but more entertaining. This article, though, says less knowledge is better.

I'd post my bracket on here somewhere, but I don't really know how to do that. I have Indiana winning the championship and Louisville losing earlier than most would expect.

Good luck to everyone who filled out brackets...let's compare in two weeks!

Two More Disgusting Days

Further proof I need to get out of this country:

Someone stole my bike lights the other day while I was in the grocery store. I usually take them off (along with my fender) when I lock up outside, but figured they'd be fine for a quick pit stop at Aldi. Nope.

I don't remember what being warm feels like, even inside my apartment. We keep the thermostat set to 68, but do we ever reach that? Nope.

My dreads are slowing creeping back into my hair.

My Lenten dish duty observance is faltering.

I can't see my tan lines anymore.

Yesterday I spilled some wine on myself and used my hair to wipe my face off.

I took a short nap halfway through writing this post.

I wore my pajamas to work the other day...underneath regular clothes for an extra layer of warmth.

My room rearrangements are getting pretty strange.

M let out a huge belch at work today. We are getting way too comfortable with each other and need time apart.

I keep dreaming about summer...also math addictions (yes, math not meth & addictions not additions) and old people beating me up....

I'm essentially surviving on caffeine and carbohydrates. And cheese.

Selection Sunday

No one in the Naw really cares about college basketball, but we also don't care about much of anything these days (see my recent posts...we are over winter). None of this is stopping us from filling out brackets and setting up our own March Madness competition. We are spending the evening researching and picking teams. Each win in round one will be worth one point, two points in round two, etc...and the winner at the end gets a prize we have yet to determine. The loser gets dish duty for a week.

Anyone who knows anything about any teams is welcome to give advice, because I'm currently picking based on team colors and mascots.

I'm Glad I'm Not Irish

...Or I would have to care about this weekend's holiday, and I can't wanna care about anything when it's 30 degrees out.

Remember last year when it was 80 degrees on St. Patrick's Day and I sunbathed by the lake? Ha. This year I woke up early to see the river being dyed, wanting to experience a real Chicago St. Patrick's Day tradition. It was AWFUL. Rainy, snowy, windy and cold. And the dye takes forever to travel the length of the river, so even though we were close to where it happened, we still had to brave the elements for an hour before catching even a glimpse.

Tons of people still came out, many of them severely under-dressed. We called it and went over to the guys' apartment to warm up/get lunch as soon as we all admitted that with no Irish ancestry, we didn't really care about getting the full experience. Not until we get some sun around here.

Spring Fever

Sleep comes naturally,
but isn't restful.
I dream of beaches and bikinis
two, maybe three times in a week.
That last one was probably a daydream.
A tease. It was real a year ago.
I wake up and buy a plane ticket.
I'm getting out of here before the fever bores me to death.

Water for Elephants

Throwing it back all the way to early 2011 for today's movie. Based on a novel by the same name (which I learned via Wikipedia was originally written for National Novel Writing Month?!), this movie has all the thrills of the big screen: topless ladies, lust, betrayal, speakeasies, trains, and elephants. One elephant, actually. It won the People's Choice Award for Favorite Drama Movie last year and received moderate reviews.

Water for Elephants

What does a circus need? A star act. After Jacob Jankowski first hitches a ride (and a free meal) from a circus train, then kills the star of the show (a white horse suffering from laminitis-Jacob actually does the horse a favor), he somehow still manages to find a spot as the vet and bull man (elephant handler) for the Benzini Brothers Circus. Rosie, the newly acquired elephant, is stubborn but takes a liking to Jacob. At the same time, Jacob takes a liking for Marlena, who performs with Rosie. Marlena is pretty sweet on Jacob as well, but still professes her love for August, her husband and the boss/ringleader of the circus. August, it turns out, has a small drinking problem and is horrendously stressed out about the loss of ticket sales and general demise of the circus (though this stress doesn't make him pause to consider the logic of throwing outlandish parties any time he feels they are about to experience an upswing in ticket sales). He also has no respect for Rosie.

So, what we have is a volatile creature, a drunk showman, and illegitimate love, all set in the midst of the Great Depression and Prohibition. I won't give the ending away, but a small thing goes wrong, then more wrongdoings occur, then a really big thing goes wrong, then suddenly some right things happen, but they are still colored by all the atrocities of the original wrongs. If you've read the book, I say check out the movie just to have a visual for the story. If not, I say watch if you have a thing for elephants, circuses, or strange love affairs.

Ruby Sparks

Following the smashing success of my previous movie choice, I went with another lesser known yet A-list-filled movie for Movie Madness Day Three. This one appealed to my writerly senses, and I was also craving some comedic relief after two drama-filled movie nights. While this movie isn't quite pee-your-pants comedic, I had several laughs. Okay, okay, and I also wanted to cry at the end. It's another dramedy, but this time with a traditional comedic (read: happy) ending.

Ruby Sparks

Much like Celeste and Jesse Forever, this 2012 movie stars its very own lady screenwriter. Zoe Kazan plays Ruby, the fictional character of Calvin, boy genius/writer/social hermit. Calvin literally dreams about this girl, starts writing her into a story, and she appears in the flesh (and not much else to begin with...her first living words are "Hey! I missed you in bed last night."). Figuring she is a hallucination, Calvin tries ignoring her in public. When he realizes other people can see her, he knows she is real. And he is in love.

Loving a fictional character is one thing, but continuing to love the real woman now living in his apartment is another. Calvin wrote Ruby's personality, but soon wants something different. He writes, she changes. Ruby gets a little bipolar in this part of the movie, going from "miserable" to "effervescent" to "speaks French." Most viewers will at this point know that it's impossible to control another human being and still love/respect them as an equal. Calvin learns this after an intense scene that flirts with the horror genre before skipping back over to comedy at just the right moment.

I personally enjoyed the writing and the acting--not only did "Ruby" (Kazan) write the script, "Calvin" (Paul Dano) is her longtime boyfriend in real life. The layers were almost too much for me to handle--a real woman writes her real boyfriend into a movie about a fictional writer who writes himself a fictional girlfriend. And on top of that, Antonio Banderas makes an appearance as Calvin's mother's boyfriend. Surprise!

Celeste and Jesse Forever

Yesterday I picked out a doozy of a movie. No one dies in it, but I cried like someone did. I recommend this one to anyone who has ever loved, anyone who has ever lost love, and anyone who has ever wondered what it would be like if Rashida Jones got together with Andy Samberg.

Celeste and Jesse Forever

This 2012 drama-comedy (also known as a hopeful tragedy in my book) shows us Celeste (Rashida Jones), a got-it-together trend forecaster, and her best friend/soul mate/husband/ex-husband Jesse (Andy Samberg), a some-time artist/dude who surfs. They've split, but haven't really let each other go. Jesse still lives in what used to be his studio, behind Celeste's house and they do nearly everything together...until Jesse starts seriously seeing someone.

Now it seems Jesse's let go and is getting his shit together, while Celeste falls apart, always needing to be right and never quite being happy. Cue Celeste dating montage followed by downward spiral followed by sobering realization that she definitely hasn't let go yet. I don't know why this movie wasn't/isn't more popular--I only knew about it because I follow Rashida Jones on Twitter.

The Descendants

I'm three for three this week in great movie choices. I found some winners just by reading basic summaries and going with my gut (relying on some great actors helped too). In a week like this one, I needed a few wins and I'm hoping my streak continues. (Might I watch a movie every night this week? Perhaps. Welcome to March Movie Madness.)

The Descendants

This movie, from 2011, was nominated for a whole slew of Academy Awards last year, including Best Picture, Actor, Director, Editing, and Adapted Screenplay (which it won). It also won Best Picture (Drama) and Best Actor (Drama-George Clooney) at the Golden Globes. Don't let the awards scare you, though. It's accessible and moving without being overly heavy.

Matt King (Clooney) is a successful real estate lawyer from Hawaii. He has daughters, but considers himself the "back-up parent" to his wife, Elizabeth, who we only see for a few seconds before the opening credits. Once the movie begins, we learn that a boating accident put her in a coma, forcing Matt to deal with Alex (17) and Scotty (10) on his own.

That situation sounds rough as it is. Now add this: Elizabeth won't wake up from the coma, so she will soon be taken off life support. And this: Elizabeth was cheating on Matt before the accident happened. Oh, and this: Matt finds out from Alex, who caught Elizabeth with the other guy several months prior to the accident.

There's also a land deal about to happen between Matt, several of his Hawaiian cousins, and a potential buyer, but understandably Matt is a little preoccupied trying to find the man his wife supposedly loved while at the same time mourning her. Okay, so it gets a bit heavy. Still, there are enough lighthearted moments to keep this movie afloat in the waters surrounding the Hawaiian Islands.

Hibernation

I know the backs of my
blankets better
than the backs of my hands,
but slightly less than I know
the backs of my eyelids.

My laundry travels
further than I do.
My garbage too.

I haven't seen my naked
feet in days. I just keep adding
sock layers upon sock layers.

I don't live
in Chicago anymore.
I moved to Hiber Nation.

Sayonara, February!

The only way I know how to get through February is clinging to its holidays and events like life rafts carrying me through a vast, miserable ocean to March's greener shores. We've almost made it--three more hours and we can shake off the last dull droplets of this month. For being such a short month, it sure lasts a long time.

I've been in hibernation mode since my return from Wisconsin: sleeping in, working, eating, going to bed early and repeating. Once again, Alan Epstein has a list of small things to make us happier each month. Here's How to Be Happier: February Edition.

1. Imagine you have six months to live. Hello, it's February. I felt like I died a little every day.
2. Do something nice for an animal. I don't come into contact with many animals...but I do like to keep my meat consumption to a minimum, and what I do eat is usually local.
3. Fall asleep reading one of your favorite books. Just about every night I read to the point of heavy eyelids. I fall asleep faster if I'm essentially already there rather than turning out the light and just telling myself to sleep.
4. Start getting your taxes ready. Done. I have all the forms I need, just waiting on some motivation.
5. Begin to plan a vacation. Done. I also took the vacation, last weekend, to Wisconsin.
6. Let yourself cry. Done. I'm pretty okay at feeling my feelings.
7. Be vegetarian for a day. Done. Done. Done.
8. Complete each task you begin. This ties in nicely with my Lenten observance of cleaning up after myself and being aware of my presence.
9. Completely serve another person. Does making Valentine's dinner for Jesus count? He helped some...I must have made dinner without his help at some point.
10. Ask someone to be completely devoted to you. He returned the favor the day after Valentine's, taking me out to a Greek restaurant for my very first lamb (from a local farm!).
11. Give yourself more time to do things. I always give myself extra time-padding and I'm amazed at how much less time I usually need.
12. Improve your knowledge of history. I just read a novel set in Prohibition-era Boston and Miami. Even though it's fiction, I still learned background info. Isn't it crazy that something totally legit could be outlawed? (she said sarcastically...)
13. Completely plan your day. When I first typed that I wrote "completely play your day," and I think I prefer that interpretation. Still, there's nothing I love more than a detailed list of things for me to do, guiding me through my day.
14. Immerse yourself in love and romance. Done. See #'s 9 and 10.
15. Put everything you value most in one place. The idea here is to make sure all your valuable belongings are stored in a safe place. I don't really have valuables, or a whole lot of space. My money is in the bank and pretty much everything else is in my bedroom. The things I truly value can't be "stored" in the traditional sense. I keep those things in my mind, my memory, my heart, and in my arms (if I'm lucky!).
16. Put on a movie marathon. This one troubles me. I love watching movies, but if I watch more than about two, I feel like garbage, and if I watch at night I barely make it through one before falling asleep. Book marathons I can do.
17. Visit a town close by you've never been to before. I would love to do this. There are several suburbs/outlying areas of Chicago that I want to visit as a tourist of sorts. Not in February, though. I want to enjoy my time.
18. Fix up something you use frequently. I rearranged my room 2.5 times this month.
19. Ask someone you admire to lunch. I can't remember the last time I was available during lunch time. Monday through Friday I'm at work, and the weekends are brunch time. I admire any and all stragglers who join us for brunch each weekend.
20. Do everything for positive reasons. What Epstein means is, instead of saying "I have to clean my toilet," say "I get to clean my toilet!" Don't sweep because the floor is nasty dirty, think about the positive clean floor result instead. Cook because you are hungry, not because you will be crabby if you don't get food. I struggled with this one. It was more of a fake it til you make it kind of challenge.
21. Pay attention to everything you eat and drink. This is pretty typical for me. We don't really have snack foods around the house, so if I'm eating or drinking it means I've put in some sort of effort to prepare the food. Hard not to think about it after chopping, sauteing, mixing, boiling, steaming, and/or baking it.
22. Learn one new thing about how the US got started. One does not simply learn new things in United States history in an organic fashion--unless you are a frequent watcher of the History Channel, which I'm not. What I'm trying to say is, even after a Google search, I've got nothing.
23. Visit a public library. Done! About once a week, without regard to the already large stack of books by my bed. Current reads: More Baths, Less Talking by Nick Hornby (a book about books!), tender hooks by Beth Ann Fennelly (poetry about motherhood highly recommended for parents, new and experienced), and A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness (a different angle on the witch/vampire phenomenon, so far smart and gripping).
24. Search for something you've lost, but not when you need it. If I lost something recently, I also forgot it. Must not have been too important.
25. Take a roll of pictures of one person or thing. This book was clearly written in the days before digital cameras/smart phones.
26. Make a list of all the things you want to do today and cross off as you complete. See #13.
27. Write out your life goals. In my journal.
28. Celebrate something small in a big way. As I said earlier, I cling to February's holidays. Anything that could be celebrated this month, I did. Did I find a half-eaten jar of frosting in the fridge? Must be time to bake cookies! Have I not showered in several days? Turn on some music and light the candles, I'm taking a long bath! Did someone slip on the sidewalk? I guess the whole apartment gets to eat ice cream!
29. Leap Day: If you are a woman, ask someone to marry you. I was disappointed in Epstein's Leap Day suggestion. Really? Just gonna fall back on lore? 30 Rock did way better with its Leap Day Williams "Real life is for March." Anyway, it's not a Leap Year, so I won't be proposing or doing anything crazy.

I guess this month wasn't the absolute worst of times--I made a lot of good food this month, celebrated some holidays, watched award shows, went home and saw friends and family, and made a slight dent in my to-read list. I'll call it a wash, and I'll call tomorrow a fresh start. Like literally, though, because I just threw out my dry February contacts and I'll open a new pair in the morning.

The 85th Academy Awards

This is it! The last big award night. I'm already tuned into the red carpet interviews and so far I've seen some great dresses (Jennifer Aniston's and Stacy Keibler's). On the other side, Kristin Chenoweth looks a few years older than her age (44) and Anne Hathaway looks like she's wearing an apron with pointy nipples.

7:30 pm: How many voices are we going to hear from Seth MacFarlane tonight?

7:36 pm: YES. Why can't Tina and Amy host everything?

7:39 pm: Channing Tatum is such a great dancer....oh that man. Is he a father yet?

7:42 pm: The sock puppets!

7:42 and a half: Oh My God. That song and dance was great. Daniel Radcliffe is adorable. Joseph Gordon-Levitt is gorgeous.

7:50 pm: Supporting Actor: Christoph Waltz. I think I will watch Django Unchained someday. I've heard too much about it to not see it and make my own opinions.

7:57 pm: Animated Short: Paperman. Yay! It was shown before Wreck-It Ralph. It's a sweet little love story, go watch.

7:59 pm: Animated Feature: Brave. I like the strong, independent woman thing, but I haven't seen the movie.

8:10 pm: Cinematography and Visual Effects: Life of Pi. This movie awed me. The book is long, but worth it.

8:17 pm: Costume Design: Jacqueline Durran, Anna Karenina. Did she also design her strange sweater robe dress? Okay, okay, I actually kind of like it.

8:20 pm: Makeup and Hairstyling: Lisa Westcott and Julie Darnell, Les Miserables. Who did their hair tonight?

8:25 pm: Not sold by this James Bond medley. Or the gold dress. Where's Adele?

8:33 pm: Live Action Short: Curfew. Has anyone seen or heard of this? Care to let me know what it's about?

8:35 pm: Documentary Short: Inocente. All the nominees looked sad/serious.

8:37 pm: Liam Neeson, what a man, what a voice.

8:43 pm: Documentary Feature: Searching for Sugar Man. My mom has actually seen a part of it and said it was good.

8:50 pm: Foreign Language Film: Amour. Old people in love, what more could you want? Oh yeah, subtitles and death.

8:54 pm: Chicago tribute...she's lip-syncing, right?

8:57 pm: Dreamgirls tribute...Jennifer Hudson not lip-syncing.

9:00 pm: Les Misérables tribute...what a strange combination of people. Wolverine, Maximus, Karen Smith, Catwoman, Borat, Bellatrix Lestrange...all together for a French Revolution musical.

9:13 pm: Ted looks pretty legit. Nice work, nerds. For real, how are they doing this?

9:17 pm: Sound Editing: No way, a tie? C'mon, Academy. Could you just not choose between guys with long blond hair?

9:20 pm: Supporting Actress: Anne Hathaway. She knew. Again, with that dress. Get the one from the Les Mis tribute back! Even that was better than your current pink atrocity.

9:33 pm: I'm glad that the presenters are making a big deal out of the behind the scenes guys who do so much of the work it takes to make a movie. Sometimes it feels like they patronize them, but not tonight. Way to go.

9:35 pm: Jennifer Lawrence and Adele are both like six feet tall. Look it up.

9:47 pm: Kristen Stewart's limp (unspecified injury) gives her some awkward swagger. I wonder how she feels presenting at the Oscars when she's won a Razzie for Worst Actress?

10:02 pm: Can we talk about how great Barbara Streisand looks for 70?

10:09 pm: Can we talk about how not great Renée Zellweger looks for 43?

10:14 pm: Original Score: Life of Pi. Agreed! Original Song: Skyfall, Adele Adkins and Paul Epworth. Not surprised. Has anyone ever won a Grammy and an Oscar in the same year? Answer: yes. Julie Andrews, Barbara Streisand, and Eminem.

10:23 pm: Adapted Screenplay: Argo, Chris Terrio. Did they start to tell winners to rush through their speeches?

10:26 pm: Original Screenplay: Django Unchained, Quentin Tarantino. Interesting that he won for the writing considering the controversy surrounding the language used.

10:34 pm: Director: Ang Lee. Congratulations, man.

10:41 pm: Leading Actress: Jennifer Lawrence. Aaaaaaaand she's down. The youngest nominee was 9, the oldest, 86. Who falls walking up the stairs? The 22-yr old.

10:45 pm: Meryl Streep just picked a wedgie!

10:46 pm: Leading Actor: Daniel Day-Lewis. He got a standing ovation and he didn't fall up any stairs! Sexist.

10:51 pm: Has a First Lady ever presented at the Oscars before?

10:55 pm: Guesses??? Mine is....Argo.

10:56 pm: And I win! Well, Ben Affleck wins.

11:01 pm: Bye, folks. Thanks for reading! See you at the next awards.

Adventures Up North

The adventures Jesus and I have had so far:

St. Mary Church Fish Boil: awesome food, plus Jesus got to see my grade school.

Drinking Habits: a really funny play put on by the ShowCase Players, directed by my friend Adam, plus Jesus got to see my high school.

Playing in the Snow: Jesus learned what snow pants are and we played in my backyard for a while. Most couples make snowmen, we made snow vault boxes for back flip practicing (he practiced, I watched).

Grave Encounters 2: possibly scarier than the first?

Brunch, Dad-style: bacon, eggs, and french toast.

Grandpa and Grandma, Rachu-style: dinner with Mom's side of the family for grandparents' birthdays. Barbecue, cheesy potatoes, potato salad, pasta salad, cheese....so, comfort food.

Church: Jesus is essentially a born-again Catholic by now.

Grandpa and Grandma, Kaiser-style: a quick visit with Dad's parents = Grandpa's ice cream special, raiding the candy drawer, bringing home Grandma Pretzels.

Cluzzle: the game of clay puzzles where a ball of string can be confused for a snake hugging a rock.

Vegging: video games, blogging, catching up on TV, chips, popcorn, wine.

So Feng, So Shui

My room is rearranged and I slept well last night. Either the blueberry muffins did the trick, or it was the fact that I have approximately four possible ways to arrange my room. My waking life seems to be in a better arrangement as well--I credit my extra day off, which allowed a rare midday nap. I wasn't excited to work today, but it turned out to be an all around decent day. Two more work days then I'm headed north to visit the family with Jesus!

Presidents and Books

Happy Presidents' Day! Here's hoping you observed it in the traditional way: shopping, preferably for a car. I spent it confused about the weather/season.

I also went to Myopic Books, a super eclectic bookstore in Wicker Park. I think I could spend the entire day there and not see all the books I'd be interested in. There are three floors and every available surface holds books. The shelves are so close together, only one person can fit in the aisle at a time. The books range in topic from mystery and sci-fi to cooking to religion to dinosaurs, and while they aren't priced like the thrift store, they are certainly cheaper than anything brand new.

And what's a better way to end a surprise day off than making blueberry muffins? I don't have any eggs, so I'm trying out a vegan recipe. It's my plan that the muffins somehow inspire the next room arrangement I have...I'll keep you posted.

Same Love

Do you guys have Valentine's Day plans? Dad told me he and Mom are "making leftovers like always." I'm curious as to what the original meal was if they have leftovers all the time. I'm currently [besides blogging] cleaning up the apartment and browsing Pandora's Love Songs stations. Pandora really has a station for everything--even if you are single and hating it today, Pandora has Love Sucks Radio.

I'm feeling in a festive mood: I have two sets of Valentine's Day socks on (it's cold at work) and I have Valentine's Day cookies at my side. Other feel-good things include the Illinois Senate voting to approve gay marriage today. The House still needs to vote and Governor Quinn has to sign it into law (he said he will if it gets to him), but Illinois is on its way to marriage equality!

This song seems to be in order:



[Also to note: I'm trying to learn this song on my keyboard. It's coming along! Come over for a concert. Just not tonight. I have a date. That I need to get ready for.]

Happy Valentine's Day!

And to Dust You Shall Return

As a period of prayer, fasting, and abstinence, Lent is usually restrictive. People give up food, pleasures, and vices. Church services are streamlined and things take on a solemn tone. I personally think February/late winter is solemn and lacking enough in pleasures, but I guess that means less temptation. We are supposed to be in mourning, and what do you know, the weather makes me horribly sad.

I don't want to give anything up this year, at least in the traditional sense. As far as food goes, I do my fair share of abstinence challenges. Giving up TV in the age of Hulu and Netflix is pointless; I will just binge on watching episodes online after Easter. What I am "giving up" can also be considered an addition to my daily routine. This year I am remembering I am dust by dusting my apartment. Sweeping. Washing dishes. Keeping things clean.

I'm giving up clutter, dirt, and (in some small way) laziness. Things will go back in their rightful places after I use them, and in this way my apartment will embody the stripped down feeling of Lent. I'm doing this because I've gotten really bad at doing my dishes (I blame MercyWorks); de-cluttering I'm pretty okay at. I want be more aware of the effect I have on the spaces I enter, and therefore more intentional about leaving things the way they were when I first got there, if not improved.

Mardi Naw

After devouring a tray of crab dip nachos (a recipe I cobbled together from several I found online), I am about to enter a food coma on my couch. I can't let that happen because I have more indulging to do in the last few hours of Mardi Gras. Listening to President Obama give his State of the Union address isn't helping--yes, pieces of it have been interesting, but I'm not informed enough to know if he's making practical sense--his calm voice brings me closer to a trance-like state.

But no! I will not let that happen. I will drag myself to the kitchen and prepare more food because it's cold and turning the oven on warms me up, plus although I satisfied my salty cravings, I still have sweet cravings to take care of and a jar of half finished frosting in the fridge begging to be spread on some sugar cookies.

This is how I celebrate Fat Tuesday: a Cajun seafood appetizer-turned-entree paired with homemade cookies (I'll pretend they're king cake...maybe even hide a tiny baby inside one?). Add to that some sweetened iced tea and a "Mardi Gras" Pandora station, and I'm pretty sure I have the makings of an authentic New Orleans-themed night. Right?

Grammys 2013: Live Blog

Live-blogging the Golden Globes was so fun, I'm doing it for the Grammys as well. Join me back here at 7 and let's listen/watch together.

7:01 pm: What is this.

7:02 pm: Oh. Taylor Swift does Alice in Wonderland. Um...okay. Taylor, you have a pretty face and I appreciate what you are trying to do, you know, lady power and all...but remember the common denominator in all your failed relationships is you, so.

7:06 pm: Do we know what LL Cool J's hair looks like?

7:10 pm: Elton John and Ed Sheeran could be a father-son or uncle-nephew duo. Awesome. Love the song too.

7:17 pm: WHY ARE THESE COMMERCIALS ALREADY BETTER THAN THE SUPER BOWL?!?! LOL.

7:20 pm: Adele, what a lady. I see she got a new dress. Wow, but somehow she pulls it off? Her acceptance speeches are always nice and short, as if she has a flight to catch and she just came to grab her inevitable award.

7:22 pm: Man, fun. is an amazing band. They live up to their name. If only the radio didn't overplay them to the point of extreme annoyance. As Brooke just said, you can listen to their album and feel inspired, even by their sad songs.

7:25 pm: They are actually getting rained on! So awesome. Poor instruments.

7:28 pm: Seriously with the commercials. State Farm remix, amazing. Where were these guys a week ago?

7:31 pm: John Mayer = Willy Wonka?

7:38 pm: Oh country music, how you confuse me sometimes. My comment on this performance: I like the stage/giant tree. Miranda Lambert's pink microphone is cool too. Why does she have to wear a tight glittery dress and heels while Dierks Bentley can just rock jeans and a leather jacket? Not fair.

7:39 pm: I wouldn't say Miguel is sexy himself, but his voice sure is. Wiz Khalifa, on the other hand, super sexy. Only sort of kidding--I could do with adding a shirt or some socks to that outfit, but you gotta admit the guy's got style.

7:43 pm: Did Carrie Underwood just say "golly"? Probably the cutest American Idol we've had...how many are there again? I can only remember five.

7:46 pm: Now there's a Target commercial I can get behind.

7:50 pm: Faith Hill is beautiful.

7:51 pm: Probably could have guessed "We Are Young," for Song of the Year, although all of the nominees were played a lot on the radio this past year.

7:57 pm: I like Mumford and Sons. Can I tell any of their songs from each other? No.

8:03 pm: Ellen and Beyonce, two truly inspirational ladies who only need a first name.

8:04 pm: I wish Justin Timberlake's return to music was a bit more epic. "Suit & Tie" is cool, but it ain't no "SexyBack." Jay-Z is the best part.

8:07 pm: This song is way better. "Little Pusher Love Girl" has style.

8:12 pm: Congrats, Frank Ocean, you and your impossibly high voice. He seems humble and not used to speaking in public.

8:20 pm: Fingers crossed for Coldplay....

8:21 pm: Black Keys for "Lonely Boy," I'll take it.

8:23 pm: I've said this before, but I believe Adam Levine should only sing. His speaking voice is way to whiny for me.

8:24 pm: Yes! I love how tough Alicia Keys looks. I don't love her dress, but I don't hate it either. She's gorgeous.

8:26 pm: What a great mash-up/duet. "Daylight" and "Girl is on Fire" don't instinctively go together, but somehow that really worked.

8:27 pm: Best Pop Vocal Album: Stronger, Kelly Clarkson. Probably the last nominee I would have picked out of the five of them. She's hilarious, though. Wow.

8:36 pm: Here is what I think about Rihanna: pretty voice...not interested in anything else. Attention-seeking is one thing, but her publicity stunts are too much.

8:40 pm: I love rap collaborations. And I'm really glad Jay-Z, Kanye, Frank Ocean, and The-Dream won. Again, Frank Ocean, everyone. So cute/awkward.

8:49 pm: I love Big Easy collaborations too! Who decides which bands perform together at the Grammys? Genius. Give them a raise.

8:54 pm: Okay, okay...Kelly you have a strong voice. You deserved that Grammy.

9:09 pm: I didn't used to like Bruno Mars--he seemed too cocky, too pretty boy--but I've come around to his style. He can dance and he's funny (check out his SNL). Sting's singing voice is as distinctive as his guitar. His suit is pretty distinctive too. This collaboration rocks.

9:10 pm: I love seeing celebrities sing along to songs. They're regular people too!

9:11 pm: This collaboration still rocks, despite Rihanna and her strange dress. Brooke: "You can't go wrong with a Marley tribute."

9:13 pm: Target has really stepped up its game since the Golden Globes. Maybe they read my blog?

9:19 pm: I don't think anyone has or will ever have anything bad to say about The Lumineers.

9:21 pm: Do Jack White and Ruby Amanfu have to share a microphone? Jack White will never not creep me out. "Love Interruption" is such a good song, makes me wish I liked the guy more. That Elvis suit though.

9:25 pm: WOW KATY. Put those things away.

9:27 pm: We all called fun. for Best New Artist...Frank Ocean and The Lumineers gave them a run for their money, but you can't top what they did this past year. As for the other two nominees...who are you?

9:35 pm: Carrie Underwood = Glinda the Good Witch? What is happening on her dress? This is too much.

9:39 pm: Haha, Prince. What are you doing with your life these days?

9:41 pm: Why was "Somebody that I Used to Know" not up for Song of the Year? Kimbra = Tinkerbell?

9:44 pm: I just looked up the difference between Song and Record of the Year--Song goes to the actual song, so the songwriter, Record goes to the recording of the song, so the performer. Interesting.

9:55 pm: How do they decide who gets to be included in the In Memoriam? I mean, besides the obvious dying requirement.

9:58 pm: Once again, loving this collaboration. So random, so perfect. It's like the Grammy people picked names out of a hat.

10:11 pm: Love the entrance, Frank Ocean. The exit as well. And the whistling.

10:15 pm: Nice pregnancy joke, Adele. Can you imagine being her child? Best lullabies ever.

10:16 pm: Album of the Year, Babel, Mumford and Sons. Congrats, sirs.

10:24 pm: Yes, what I've been waiting for all night. LL Cool J performance here we go!

10:27 pm: Sick guitar solo. Not joking. Loving me some Travis Barker too.

10:30 pm: We made it. Thanks for joining me. Now off to the after party aka chips and salsa in bed!

Staying Local Saturday

Last night my roommates and I stayed local. We kept all of our Saturday night activities confined to half a square mile, bordered by Armitage, California, Fullerton, and Western. After eating homemade wings and fries, we decided to check out Fireside Bowl. We continued our night at an apartment near ours for a friend's birthday (helping the neighbor carry a TV inside in exchange for a 12-pack first), then finished with tortas from Los Comales.

Despite its awful website, Fireside Bowl does live up to the no-frills hype. It's a bowler's bowling alley--none of that silly cosmic bowl stuff, just basic alleys, several racks of bowling balls, and a bar/lounge with wood panel walls, a pool table in a low lit corner, and ice cold Jager on tap. We had a Groupon for one hour of bowling plus shoe rentals for $15, which keeps the game moving nicely (if you go over your hour, they charge by the quarter hour, so no biggie).

For some reason, Diego and I get better at bowling after we've had a drink or two. Britney and Brooke, not so much, though Britney did manage to beat Diego by three points. I put up a solid 143 to win the first game. While we played, we tried to figure out the demographic of the patrons. The alley was full and most lanes had three-six bowlers: lots of couples/group dates, and several guy/girl-only parties. Earlier there were a couple families with younger kids, but they were gone by the time we got started. I'd say the average age of a bowler was 35--I didn't see any groups of teenagers, which is uncommon (bowling's a popular activity for kids), but made sense (Fireside Bowl doesn't have cosmic bowling, an extensive arcade, or greasy snack foods, just bowling and a full bar). Because the alley is located in Logan Square, most bowlers could be labeled as hipsters, but they weren't your young/yuppie/popular hipsters--these were people with actual jobs and families and lives who also happen to wear flannel and drink PBR on a Saturday night.

From bowling we made our way to our friend's house party, where Britney and I compared apartments and noted home decorating ideas we want to try out while in the end deciding our apartment is still tops.

By the time we were ready to head home, we had worked up an appetite. Our usual late-night food options were a long walk away, but Los Comales was right around the corner and on our way back to the Naw. This place is also no-frills and gets the job done--I think we found a new tacqueria for nights when we stick to Logan Square activities. My torta was amazing and exactly what I needed before crashing for the night.

Divergent Casting

Imagine a post-apocalyptic Chicago: Lake Michigan turned into a marsh, buildings and trains abandoned, people separated into five separate factions based on distinct character traits they value (selflessness, honesty, peacefulness, knowledge, and bravery)--this is the world of Veronica Roth's novel Divergent.

Now imagine making a movie version of the novel, filmed in Chicago and featuring Illinoisans as the hundreds of faction members inhabiting this dystopian world. Movie and book fans young and old would line up, down the block and around the corner, just to submit their applications to appear in the background of the movie.

That was my Saturday. I woke up early and went to open casting calls for Divergent, filming here this spring/summer. I heard some people got there at 7 am, but Jesus and I held off until a more reasonable 10, when the doors actually opened. We stood in line for about an hour and a half, hopping around in the cold and trying not to think about having to use the bathroom, before shuffling into a giant room that held several hundred people. Final reports are that over 1,500 people came to the call--some had to be turned away.

Once inside, we separated. Jesus got to join the special area for people with military, combat, or gymnastics training. I was with the regular folks hoping to get cast as an extra. We filled out applications that asked basic questions (special skills, experience, hobbies, body measurements for costuming, willing to cut/dye hair, etc), then joined another line to get our photos taken.

With his special blue star, Jesus skipped to the front of these lines and got sent right through. I waited, but once I was at the front, the guy did mark a red star on my sheet, sending me to a shorter line. All that was left was smiling regular for a picture, then giving the photographer my best "adorable, Little House on the Prairie smile"--seriously, that's what he asked for.

Since Jesus has read most of the book, and I've read at least 100 pages (all within the last few days, when we found out about this), we basically know what extra parts we'd fit into--Jesus the brave faction, willing to jump on and off moving trains and from buildings, tattooed and pierced and tough-looking, me the hippie/bohemian long-haired happy fun time peaceful faction--and we spent most of our time in line putting all the other hopefuls in their prospective factions.

Even if they don't ask me to be an extra, I'm glad I went to check it out. Who knows, maybe the casting company has another project in the works that I'd be right for. Either way, I can say I was a part of this movie's pre-production phase and I'll be interested to see if I recognize any of the extras from the time I spent in line with them.

Saltiest Day

Welcome to the First Annual Saltiest Day. What is Saltiest Day? A while back, on October 20 to be exact, my roommates and I decided that America needs a Saltiest Day to complement Sweetest Day. When would Saltiest Day fall on the calendar? Far enough away from Sweetest Day to offset it, and during a really crappy time of year, when things are salty anyway.

Today was the perfect salty day because:

1) It's still not Friday.
2) The weather is awful--rain and snow together, wind, cold, clouds--just awful.
3) M was in full teenage don't want to do anything mode tonight.
4) I was on the phone with AT&T for at least an hour and the problem still wasn't solved (and that was for work--we still need to call them about an issue here at home).
5) Because of the extended phone call, I nearly burnt the burgers I was cooking.
6) We had a super huge pile of dishes to do at home (it's been a salty week here)--before you start worrying about our apartment hygiene, I rolled up my sleeves and powered through them tonight.
7) I had to do all the dishes tonight.
8) We are almost out of groceries, so dinner was: onion, canned beans, cheese. (Ok, ok, that's not all that salty/strange for me...it was actually a good dinner.)

I would go on, but this is just turning into a list of things I didn't like about today and that's depressing. Saltiest Day is almost over, bring on a less salty day and a February that's closer to being over!

Click that Hood

Sorry I'm not sorry for the short/late post today--I'm addicted to this game.

I found it here, on chicagoist.com. It took me about a minute and a half to finish the starter/20 neighborhood game once I figured out how it works and 13.53.50 to correctly place all 90 neighborhoods. Now my eyes hurt, so excuse me while I take a 10-hour nap.

Super? Bowl

If I could only make one comment about the Super Bowl, it would be that it was underwhelming. The game was meh, the commercials were neither hilarious nor overly offensive, and even Beyonce's halftime show paled considering what I hoped to see/hear (Jay-Z). The power outage alone was a fun diversion from an otherwise basic night of TV.

I didn't care about either the Ravens or the Niners, so that right there got me off to an apathetic start. Who are these teams and who cheers for them outside of their respective cities? I have no idea. The sibling rivalry was interesting, except for the fact that no one really talked about it--I wanted to know what family dinners have been like recently and which brother each of the parents rooted for. The Niners made it interesting post-outage, but not enough to bring the game to legendary status.

As for the commercials, the Kia "Where do babies come from?" spot was cute and stuck to the truth of reproduction just enough to be believable. Beer commercials were uninspired, the one Coke ad was plain confusing (why are those four people groups in an unknown desert together?), and even the GoDaddy.com ads were blasé. 

And Beyonce, I am so sorry, but I really wanted some guest stars that weren't Destiny's Child. Holographic images aside, you are a stand alone performer. Destiny's Child was great, but like 90s great. You guys broke up for a reason, and that reason is your now stunning career. If you were going to share the stage with anyone, shouldn't it have been that other performer in your life? Or maybe Lady Gaga, aren't you guys friends?

I enjoyed the power outage because it meant that even in 2013 we are not infallible. Even at the Super Bowl things can and will go wrong and the announcers won't really know what to do with themselves. Personally, I was sure it was the beginning of a Beyonce encore, so I was ultimately disappointed. Oh well. Bring on awards season.

Books about Books

I went to the library today strictly for returning purposes. I coached myself to not get carried away and reminded myself I have a stack of books at home to read, but still left with five new ones. I then went to the thrift store and picked out four more. I don't think I can be helped. Several of the books I got are just books about books, but they are still entertaining in and of themselves. And since this blog is in large devoted to writing about reading, I feel good supporting other writers who write about reading. The question still begs to be asked: If all I do is read books about books, am I really reading? It's a tongue-twister and a mind-twister, folks.

What I'm working through now are Nick Hornby's collections of essays about the books he reads each month. These essays were formerly published columns in The Believer (the column was aptly titled "Stuff I've Been Reading") and are now gathered in four separate books, The Polysyllabic Spree, Housekeeping vs. The Dirt, Shakespeare Wrote for Money, and More Baths Less Talking. I've added several new books to my list, but I'm also intrigued by the idea of someone getting paid to read & then write conversationally about it.

Hornby opens his second collection with a call to read whatever you like--be that literary fiction or dime store novels--instead of what you (or others) think you should be reading. He mentions people with lists (mental and physical) of books to read before a certain age, or before death. I am guilty of list-having, but rest assured, I only put books I want to read on my list. My list isn't task-oriented, I only need it because I can never remember the books I've been meaning to read. (I should also say you make several appearances on my list, Nick Hornby.)

Reading has never been a chore for me as it is for many people, and I think that's because I do read what I want. I'm not ashamed (okay, just a little ashamed) to admit that I'm not a well-read English major. I haven't read a lot of books I "should" have, and because it really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, I probably never will. Yes, I have been known to judge others' reading choices, but at the end of the day I would rather someone read a trashy novel than nothing at all. I don't like when people say books aren't for them. I honestly believe there is a book (be it a biography, travel memoir, or graphic novel) for everyone. It only needs to be found.