. . . A mini-vacation. For some reason the Fates conspired against me getting to a warm tropical climate this winter, so I've settled on Rhode Island for a long weekend next week during Oakton's Spring Break. CLC's isn't until the end of the month, during which time I'll be happy for the break. It would have been SUPER though if they might have coincided, you know?
I spent a lot of time back home last year and by the end of 2006 I felt like I had been back a little too much. This next weekend is the big test though . . . how does it go, and do I go back for good?
We shall see. For now though, I need coffee and food and to head to Oakton. Teach today, come home, hit the gym, grade CTU assignments, meet Pats later for dinner and drinks and probably shopping.
Mira, la vida esta bella aqui tambien.
*sigh*
3.07.2007
3.06.2007
Cyberporn & A Long Dry Spell
I realize tonight that since my winter break photo orgy, I have been virtually photo-free, both on Flickr and in Icon. Yikes.
I hope to remedy that this weekend by transferring more archives into the Master Archive here on the new Mac. But even the Mac has been on hiatus, sitting idle for weeks until I finally decided to go "Command Central." The Mac is on the desk, the PC on a laptop worktable beside it. This is the evolution of my computing scheme: dual platforms running simultaneously.
So I've transferred over all of the files from the external hard drive I bought in July so I could clear everything off of the VAIO I had from CTU. I'm curious as to whether or not I can plug the PC DIRECTLY INTO THE MAC? Any thoughts? It would be the most direct way to get the photo files into the Master Archive. But it also feels like cyber-porn --- cross-species hardware interfacing. Mmmm, sounds hot. :P
I think I'll play it safe and use the external hard drive as the intermediary. At any rate, perhaps I'll get to updating the naming conventions on the old folders over the weekend and start Flickr'ing and Blogging some pix, circa 2005, over the weekend.
I could do some more shooting too. Meh. Later.
I hope to remedy that this weekend by transferring more archives into the Master Archive here on the new Mac. But even the Mac has been on hiatus, sitting idle for weeks until I finally decided to go "Command Central." The Mac is on the desk, the PC on a laptop worktable beside it. This is the evolution of my computing scheme: dual platforms running simultaneously.
So I've transferred over all of the files from the external hard drive I bought in July so I could clear everything off of the VAIO I had from CTU. I'm curious as to whether or not I can plug the PC DIRECTLY INTO THE MAC? Any thoughts? It would be the most direct way to get the photo files into the Master Archive. But it also feels like cyber-porn --- cross-species hardware interfacing. Mmmm, sounds hot. :P
I think I'll play it safe and use the external hard drive as the intermediary. At any rate, perhaps I'll get to updating the naming conventions on the old folders over the weekend and start Flickr'ing and Blogging some pix, circa 2005, over the weekend.
I could do some more shooting too. Meh. Later.
Francesca's Strikes Again
I met up with my cousin B from Rhode Island tonight. He's in Chicago on business. We waited for the traffic to subside and headed from his O'Hare area hotel to Francesca's Forno in Wicker Park. Once again, Francesca's did not disappoint. We had the Carpaccio, Risotto, Pizza and BOTH the chocolate chip banana bread pudding and some decadent brownie thing. Good food, great company.
We figured out that it's been two years since we'd last seen each other, over dinner at the Dixie Kitchen in Evanston. Hard to believe that time goes by so fast. B is one of my favorite relatives, and I was happy he called to meet up. Having so much fun is another tug eastward, I must confess.
We always compare notes on the cousins and other family members, and in the course of talking, my godson K came up. His mother is another one of our cousins. K will be 10 this month, which is hard to believe. I don't see him anywhere NEAR as often as I should, but there's a bond between us that's unmistakable. He's a sweet and sensitive child growing up in a painfully unhappy home. The first time I held him I promised him I would always be there for him. I don't feel like I've even remotely upheld my end of the bargain, and yet I know he loves me all the same as I do him.
I'll be home next week, and I do plan to call his mom to see when I can surprise him with a visit.
Tug.
We figured out that it's been two years since we'd last seen each other, over dinner at the Dixie Kitchen in Evanston. Hard to believe that time goes by so fast. B is one of my favorite relatives, and I was happy he called to meet up. Having so much fun is another tug eastward, I must confess.
We always compare notes on the cousins and other family members, and in the course of talking, my godson K came up. His mother is another one of our cousins. K will be 10 this month, which is hard to believe. I don't see him anywhere NEAR as often as I should, but there's a bond between us that's unmistakable. He's a sweet and sensitive child growing up in a painfully unhappy home. The first time I held him I promised him I would always be there for him. I don't feel like I've even remotely upheld my end of the bargain, and yet I know he loves me all the same as I do him.
I'll be home next week, and I do plan to call his mom to see when I can surprise him with a visit.
Tug.
3.04.2007
3.03.2007
Best Quote EVER
I'm watching "Heavy: The story of Metal" on VH1 for like the 6th time. Metal!!!!!!!!!
Slash, of Guns n' Roses fame, was just talking about seeing Van Halen for the first time, and said, ". . . I was thirteen, fourteen years old, I used to sell quaaludes at the Starwood and I was like whoa! . . ."
How perfect is the image of Slash, barely pubescent, but even then with curly hair and top hat, hawking 'ludes at a club?
Also, I gotta give it up for Ronnie James Dio, inventor of the universal symbol of metal: devil horns! He got it from his Italian grandmother's "evil eye" gesture. I'm a big fan, particularly of the two-handed, fist-to-fist, pinkies raised in the "too much metal for one hand" symbol.
Yeaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!
Slash, of Guns n' Roses fame, was just talking about seeing Van Halen for the first time, and said, ". . . I was thirteen, fourteen years old, I used to sell quaaludes at the Starwood and I was like whoa! . . ."
How perfect is the image of Slash, barely pubescent, but even then with curly hair and top hat, hawking 'ludes at a club?
Also, I gotta give it up for Ronnie James Dio, inventor of the universal symbol of metal: devil horns! He got it from his Italian grandmother's "evil eye" gesture. I'm a big fan, particularly of the two-handed, fist-to-fist, pinkies raised in the "too much metal for one hand" symbol.
Yeaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!
The Raw and the Cooked
I just got home from dinner at Karyn's Raw, a gourmet "living foods" restaurant on Halstead near Armitage tonight with JS and CJ. We had a reunion of the old CTU Student Affairs trio --- that of the famous Twinkie Pact of 2005.
Twinkies were decidedly NOT on the menu tonight, although I'd wager those aren't cooked. CJ is on a raw foods detox diet, and has lost 26 pounds so far on twigs and berries. So when we got together for dinner tonight, we hit Karyn's so that he could stick to his regimen. JS and I are up for anything, so there you have it.
I LOVED Karyn's. As we studied the menu, we munched on kale chips, which were leaves of kale soaked in oil, salt, and honey overnight and then dehydrated. Daniel, our waiter, came out with them and said, "you wanna try something weird?" In unison, JS and I answered "Suuuuuure." They were smashing. And it just got better. I then had the Summer Cooler, a gorgeous and glowing orange cocktail of carrot, apple, and lemon juice, while we waited for CJ. Once he got there, we ordered the dim sum for an appetizer, which I highly recommend.
We then ordered three entrees to split. The Sea Rolls were OUT OF THIS WORLD --- seaweed and veggies rolled up around a divine nut pate and served with a tamari/soy sauce with sesame seeds. Second place were the savory basil-scented ravioli filled with a mascarpone walnut cream and served with a rich tomato sauce with olives. Once you get past your expectation that a ravioli needs to be hot, which it doesn't, you will savor every bite of both dishes.
A sad distant third however was the "polenta" served with shiitake mushrooms, rosemary and tomatoes. This dish looked and tasted NOTHING like any "polenta" I've ever had. I would have been fine if they called it a crispy almond cracker, which it was. But to call something "polenta" --- which connotes creamy cornmeal goodness --- when it is basically a hard nutty wafer, is just annoying. It's less dangerous to call it what it is than to perpetrate a bait-and-switch on a diner.
We finished dinner with two desserts: the Pecan bar, served with carob sauce, which was rich and dense and outstanding; and two flavors of coconut-milk ice cream: peach and blueberry. The ice cream again is a bit of a misnomer --- it really should be called a sorbet, which sounds more posh anyway. Call it what you want, it was light and fruity and such a fine way to end the meal
Overall, the meal was fantastic. My only quarrel is with the high-falootin'-ness of the damned menu. Take the pretension down a notch, call the dishes what they are, and you'll be FINE. In fact, I think to do so would actually open the place up to a broader clientele. Raw food is, fairly or not, an off-putting concept, invoking ascetic menus of carrots and celery. Or, worse by far, the self-righteous vegan hippies stinking of patchouli and disdaining those who eat anything with a shadow.
The kicker though is that other than the menu's wording, the place is pretty much free of trust-afarian pretension. And I walked out of that restaurant feeling SO GOOD. The food was tasty, and I felt like I had just done something really good for my body.
Who wouldn't want that?
Twinkies were decidedly NOT on the menu tonight, although I'd wager those aren't cooked. CJ is on a raw foods detox diet, and has lost 26 pounds so far on twigs and berries. So when we got together for dinner tonight, we hit Karyn's so that he could stick to his regimen. JS and I are up for anything, so there you have it.
I LOVED Karyn's. As we studied the menu, we munched on kale chips, which were leaves of kale soaked in oil, salt, and honey overnight and then dehydrated. Daniel, our waiter, came out with them and said, "you wanna try something weird?" In unison, JS and I answered "Suuuuuure." They were smashing. And it just got better. I then had the Summer Cooler, a gorgeous and glowing orange cocktail of carrot, apple, and lemon juice, while we waited for CJ. Once he got there, we ordered the dim sum for an appetizer, which I highly recommend.
We then ordered three entrees to split. The Sea Rolls were OUT OF THIS WORLD --- seaweed and veggies rolled up around a divine nut pate and served with a tamari/soy sauce with sesame seeds. Second place were the savory basil-scented ravioli filled with a mascarpone walnut cream and served with a rich tomato sauce with olives. Once you get past your expectation that a ravioli needs to be hot, which it doesn't, you will savor every bite of both dishes.
A sad distant third however was the "polenta" served with shiitake mushrooms, rosemary and tomatoes. This dish looked and tasted NOTHING like any "polenta" I've ever had. I would have been fine if they called it a crispy almond cracker, which it was. But to call something "polenta" --- which connotes creamy cornmeal goodness --- when it is basically a hard nutty wafer, is just annoying. It's less dangerous to call it what it is than to perpetrate a bait-and-switch on a diner.
We finished dinner with two desserts: the Pecan bar, served with carob sauce, which was rich and dense and outstanding; and two flavors of coconut-milk ice cream: peach and blueberry. The ice cream again is a bit of a misnomer --- it really should be called a sorbet, which sounds more posh anyway. Call it what you want, it was light and fruity and such a fine way to end the meal
Overall, the meal was fantastic. My only quarrel is with the high-falootin'-ness of the damned menu. Take the pretension down a notch, call the dishes what they are, and you'll be FINE. In fact, I think to do so would actually open the place up to a broader clientele. Raw food is, fairly or not, an off-putting concept, invoking ascetic menus of carrots and celery. Or, worse by far, the self-righteous vegan hippies stinking of patchouli and disdaining those who eat anything with a shadow.
The kicker though is that other than the menu's wording, the place is pretty much free of trust-afarian pretension. And I walked out of that restaurant feeling SO GOOD. The food was tasty, and I felt like I had just done something really good for my body.
Who wouldn't want that?
3.02.2007
20-20-20-Four Hours to Go . . .
Ah, the Ramones. I heard "I Wanna Be Sedated" on the radio yesterday and it got me thinking. I admit that I too often want to be sedated. But not like in the song or when I was a bored teenager and/or twenty-something. Now I just want to be able to fall asleep.
I was telling Pats about my chronic sleeping problem. I sure as shit can't get up in the morning and I sleep like the dead once I do fall asleep. I even have some interesting dreams (notably the recurring plane crash series, which used to cause me to wake up in a panic, but now increasingly involve a gorgeous soothing white light and absolutely no pain or terror as the ground comes closer and closer and closer but the impact just never seems to happen.)
The problem is actually falling asleep, or waking up in the middle of the night and then being unable to fall back to sleep. See, I lay down, cozy in, close my eyes --- but my mind WILL NOT STOP RUNNING. It's like a webpage that won't load and won't crash and just won't stop. And it's the stupidest shit too, song lyrics, quotes, snippets of conversations, shit I have to do the next day. Of course, the longer this goes on, the more upset I get because I just want to sleep and the damned stream of consciousness just won't stop streaming.
Turns out, Pats has the same problem. Even my 8-year old cousin recently told his mom that he has a hard time sleeping because he can't stop thinking. His mom (my aunt) and my mother both have the same issue.
So is this a symptom life in the modern era, in which information is just beaming at us so incessantly that our brains remain forever engaged? Or might it be a sign of advanced intelligence? (I'd like to think that). I worry however that we're all just totally neurotic and THAT'S the actual problem, in point of fact.
Worse still, I can hardly sleep anymore without "Simply Sleep" the active ingredient in Tylenol PM --- basically the PM without the Tylenol. I like to think it's better for my liver than Nyquil, though it's not nearly as effective at inducing a semi-coma.
Ironically, as I write this, I'm watching the South Park episode when all the kids get put on Ritalin. As Cartman says, "It makes you feel goooood."
Kenny: "Gooooooood."
The best part of the episode is when Chef proposes that the parents just smack their kids when they act up, but the parents have all pilfered the kids' Ritalin and are as sedated as their children and therefore don't really care to do anything.
Mmm, Welcome to Generation Rx, baby.
I was telling Pats about my chronic sleeping problem. I sure as shit can't get up in the morning and I sleep like the dead once I do fall asleep. I even have some interesting dreams (notably the recurring plane crash series, which used to cause me to wake up in a panic, but now increasingly involve a gorgeous soothing white light and absolutely no pain or terror as the ground comes closer and closer and closer but the impact just never seems to happen.)
The problem is actually falling asleep, or waking up in the middle of the night and then being unable to fall back to sleep. See, I lay down, cozy in, close my eyes --- but my mind WILL NOT STOP RUNNING. It's like a webpage that won't load and won't crash and just won't stop. And it's the stupidest shit too, song lyrics, quotes, snippets of conversations, shit I have to do the next day. Of course, the longer this goes on, the more upset I get because I just want to sleep and the damned stream of consciousness just won't stop streaming.
Turns out, Pats has the same problem. Even my 8-year old cousin recently told his mom that he has a hard time sleeping because he can't stop thinking. His mom (my aunt) and my mother both have the same issue.
So is this a symptom life in the modern era, in which information is just beaming at us so incessantly that our brains remain forever engaged? Or might it be a sign of advanced intelligence? (I'd like to think that). I worry however that we're all just totally neurotic and THAT'S the actual problem, in point of fact.
Worse still, I can hardly sleep anymore without "Simply Sleep" the active ingredient in Tylenol PM --- basically the PM without the Tylenol. I like to think it's better for my liver than Nyquil, though it's not nearly as effective at inducing a semi-coma.
Ironically, as I write this, I'm watching the South Park episode when all the kids get put on Ritalin. As Cartman says, "It makes you feel goooood."
Kenny: "Gooooooood."
The best part of the episode is when Chef proposes that the parents just smack their kids when they act up, but the parents have all pilfered the kids' Ritalin and are as sedated as their children and therefore don't really care to do anything.
Mmm, Welcome to Generation Rx, baby.
The Next Step
Mojo just came in and crashed out on the arm of the couch next to me. She keeps to herself most of the time, sleeping on my bed during the day and on the couch or in the bathroom sink at night. Rarely in the same place at the same time, but always around.
We're like a yin and yang: curvy white girl, curvy black cat.
But Mojo also knows after all these years that sometimes Mama needs some love. And today, she was right. First, the weather just BLOWS (literally and metaphorically): snow and driving wind. I can't handle much more of winter. And I had to work this morning and have more to do tonight, as well as tomorrow morning :(
In fairness, I shouldn't complain about work, considering I never know if I'm going to have work from term to term. Summer is shaping up to be on the lean side, which has me nervous. I keep trying to remember that everything happens for a reason, but I'm also worried constantly about making enough money, and when the well might run dry.
Along those lines, I have an incredible opportunity to go to China for 2 weeks in May, but I'm so concerned about shelling out $2900 for the trip, missing work, and being broke --- all because I dropped all this money on the trip and missed work so I could go, right on the eve of a long summer in which considerably fewer students enroll in classes.
So the long and the short of it is that as much as I love being an adjunct, I really must start searching for something full-time. Sounds easy enough, right? But then the full-time job search brings me to a whole existential crisis about WHERE I should be looking. I've struggled with this for years: move back east, stay in (insert present location here), go somewhere else.
What's different this time is that, for once, I really am thinking about moving back east. I've been away from home for 12 years, on my own for the most part and enjoying it tremendously. But something is changing. I'm tired of being away. And while I have a handful of amazing people in my life here in Chicago, the truth of the matter is that I am alone alot of the time. And I'm tired of being alone. Back east, I'm surrounded by family and friends. Here, you know, I got Mojo. Etc.
I'm starting to think it's time to leave it to the universe. Search, apply, see what shakes loose. It's just hard because I feel changes, good changes, big ones, are just around the corner. But I can't see them yet. So, what IS the next step?
I'll let you know once I figure it out.
We're like a yin and yang: curvy white girl, curvy black cat.
But Mojo also knows after all these years that sometimes Mama needs some love. And today, she was right. First, the weather just BLOWS (literally and metaphorically): snow and driving wind. I can't handle much more of winter. And I had to work this morning and have more to do tonight, as well as tomorrow morning :(
In fairness, I shouldn't complain about work, considering I never know if I'm going to have work from term to term. Summer is shaping up to be on the lean side, which has me nervous. I keep trying to remember that everything happens for a reason, but I'm also worried constantly about making enough money, and when the well might run dry.
Along those lines, I have an incredible opportunity to go to China for 2 weeks in May, but I'm so concerned about shelling out $2900 for the trip, missing work, and being broke --- all because I dropped all this money on the trip and missed work so I could go, right on the eve of a long summer in which considerably fewer students enroll in classes.
So the long and the short of it is that as much as I love being an adjunct, I really must start searching for something full-time. Sounds easy enough, right? But then the full-time job search brings me to a whole existential crisis about WHERE I should be looking. I've struggled with this for years: move back east, stay in (insert present location here), go somewhere else.
What's different this time is that, for once, I really am thinking about moving back east. I've been away from home for 12 years, on my own for the most part and enjoying it tremendously. But something is changing. I'm tired of being away. And while I have a handful of amazing people in my life here in Chicago, the truth of the matter is that I am alone alot of the time. And I'm tired of being alone. Back east, I'm surrounded by family and friends. Here, you know, I got Mojo. Etc.
I'm starting to think it's time to leave it to the universe. Search, apply, see what shakes loose. It's just hard because I feel changes, good changes, big ones, are just around the corner. But I can't see them yet. So, what IS the next step?
I'll let you know once I figure it out.
Heigh-ho, the Wind and the Rain
A line from Feste, right, in Twelfth Night? I ought to remember that.
I keep thinking it because DAMN it is windy here in the Chicagoland area today. The nickname "the Windy City" comes not from any meteorological phenomenon, though we do get a wicked gale here from time to time. Chicago actually earned the title because of boastful late-19th century politicians and city fathers. They were eager to attract businesses and World's Fairs to Chicago after the devastating fire of 1871 and the extraordinary rehabilitation that ensued quickly afterward. Chicago was back and better than ever, and they bragged about their town incessantly.
But today it is actually windy, gusting up to 45 miles per hour. It feels like a coastal storm out there, and the windows are rattling.
I'm feeling sort of *blah* today. Not much more to say.
I keep thinking it because DAMN it is windy here in the Chicagoland area today. The nickname "the Windy City" comes not from any meteorological phenomenon, though we do get a wicked gale here from time to time. Chicago actually earned the title because of boastful late-19th century politicians and city fathers. They were eager to attract businesses and World's Fairs to Chicago after the devastating fire of 1871 and the extraordinary rehabilitation that ensued quickly afterward. Chicago was back and better than ever, and they bragged about their town incessantly.
But today it is actually windy, gusting up to 45 miles per hour. It feels like a coastal storm out there, and the windows are rattling.
I'm feeling sort of *blah* today. Not much more to say.
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