esprit de l'escalier

Time travel and finding the past with us

I am still at my parents' house and have enjoyed a day of sitting around in my pjs reading. (Sorry Amanda, my sloth was too much to overcome, even if it meant missing lunch with you.) I bought The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger the other day in the village's bookstore. Mother knows the owner, naturally. You can't go anywhere without someone shouting, "Hello!" The perks of living in a village, I suppose. (Don't even think of calling it anything else, the villagers are *very* particular.)

Anyway, I have sat and read about 200 pages of this book today and really love it. You need to go into it with an open mind, though, and just not get hung up on a need for sequential timelines. Each time jump informs us of the date and the ages of the two main characters. The descriptions of Chicago are fun, but it's the characters that are wonderful. What an odd thing, to live your life out of order, to revisit times and places over and over again. It's kind of a mix between Quantum Leap and Chris Marker's La Jetée. Time overlapping and folding onto itself, with people caught up in it all. Really it's more like Chris Marker's film. I'll never forget seeing that film, it's what Terry Gilliam's Twelve Monkeys is vaguely based on. It cemented a part of me as being an insufferable film snob, and I couldn't stop talking about it for days. If you ever get the chance to watch it, do. And then find me to discuss it.

Today has been full of the past, as my mother and I have been poking through closets and cleaning up a desk. Mother has realized that she is a bit of a pack rat. I think it's something she's struggled with, but ultimately her mother's genes have won. I'm helping to convince to throw out some things. Not too much though, just the really ridiculous items, like old envelopes from projects she worked on who knows when, that are out of date.

One thing that is great that we found is an old journal of her Grandmother's. There is a folded piece of paper in it with instructions on reading poetry. A snippet:

Improving vocal quality

Bring tone color into the voice. Reading poetry gives the voice every opportunity that it needs to express real feeling.

Mother thinks that her Grandmother would have been a blogger, as she wrote constantly. (I'm named for her, and apparently her genes have come forth a little in me.) She and her sister were part of the Chatauqua Institution's Tent Chatauquas. According to Mother's 1965 World Book, Tent Chatauquas were traveling groups that operated in the United States from town to town giving a program of lectures, concerts, and recitals in a large tent.

Mother's Grandmother was a soprano and her sister practiced the fine art of elocution. They were extremely well read in literature and poetry. The rest of the journal is writings on charm. Here are the quotes on the inside cover:

"Oh that I may be beautiful within." --Socrates

"I and my kind do not convince by argument, but by our presence." --Walt Whitman (slightly paraphrased from "Song of the Open Road")

"Charm is never extreme or strenuous about anything. There is always ease about it, a relaxed grace, a smoothness, a polishing away of tenseness, a balm, a soothing effect." --This is not attributed to anyone, so I'll assume it was her own words, Claire Bennett.

I got tagged!

Lance tagged me with a meme of four that he modified, and I modified a bit as well.

Four jobs they couldn’t pay you enough to do: Garbage collector, phlebotomist, stewardess, toll booth operator.

Four movies you used to love and watched over and over to the point that now you have them memorized and the prospect of watching them again causes your eyeballs to bleed: I'm going to change this one a bit. Here are two movies I wish I didn't own and two movies I wish I did. Two movies I'm over: Bridget Jones' Diary; Bend It Like Beckham. Two movies I'd like on hand: Miller's Crossing, In the Mood For Love.

Alternatively, four movies you loved when you saw them in the theater but don’t dare watch again for fear they won’t hold up: I know that there are many movies like this, but I can't think of very many, so I'm trying to remember the movies I've seen over the last year to see which fit the bill. Sideways; You, Me and Everyone We Know; Garden State; The Good Girl.

Four places in the United States you've always thanked God you don't live even when you were living in Laurel, MD: While I never lived in Muncie, as Monsieur Lance did, I spent some time in the Hoosier heartland. Though, I don't think I would ever put Bloomington on the same level as Muncie, but I'm partial. I lived in Laurel for a summer on a fold out couch. I had mono and worked two jobs. It sucked. My four: Martinsville, IN; Houston, TX; Jacksonville, FL; Utica, NY.

Four places you would like to visit on an extended vacation: Lake District, England; Paris, France; Vancouver, Canada; London, England.

Four TV shows you are strangely tempted to watch but have so far resisted: I tend to watch too much tv, so here are my four guilty pleasures instead: Project Runway, Veronica Mars, Gilmore Girls, Coupling.

Four Websites that aren’t on your blogroll that you visit daily: I need to make a blogroll, that's top on my to-do list for the new year. But the four websites that I check when I get into work every morning: Salon, IMDB, MSN (those last two for the latest celebrity gossip, I know, very sad) and the BBC.

Four foods you don’t really like and can’t understand why you eat them but you eat them anyway and feel bad about it afterwards: Sweet pickles, chocolate covered cherries, rum and coke, anything with lentils.

Four albums you never listen to anymore but can’t bring yourself to trade in at Tower Records: For some reason I have the original movie cast of the Wizard of Oz, and I have no idea why I have it or when I bought it or if I ever listened to it. I don't think I'll part with it though. I haven't listened to the soundtrack to RENT for years, but it represents a part of high school and I could therefore never part with it. I'm embarassed to say that I own a Monty Python cd, but I also won't give it up. I'm sure there are others, I mean, I wasn't an adolescent too long ago, but I'm away from my cd collection and cannot embarass myself any further.

Four places you’d rather be but sadly won’t be any time soon: Collins Cafeteria with zebra pudding on the menu seated at the "power table;" the house I lived in in high school on New Year's eve during one of my parties; front porch swing at our farm in Wisconsin during a summer thunder storm; a hostel in a foreign land while backpacking.

Four people I'll tag: Sharon, Jeanne, Stacey, and Kristen, though she doesn't have a blog (but she should).

What's in the box, Yoshi?!

NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING! STUPID, you're so STUPID!*

Well, I guess a million dollars is more than your weight in red snapper, but still... That's what I was thinking when I first saw commercials for the "special" weeklong Deal or No Deal on NBC. That, and good LORD, what is with Howie Mendel's skin? You'd think he could afford some moisturizer. He looks like a mummy. That's what I was thinking until Natasha walked in this evening and found me screaming at the tv, "TAKE THE MONEY!" Sigh... you try to be a better person and then you find yourself sucked into a gameshow that takes absolutely no talent or skill. I guess overcoming the screams from an audience of rabid people who want you to either win it all or win the $5. I was happy Traci won the two hundred grand.

This week has been nutso. This weekend I made a little list of three topics I want to blog about, even made notes, because I'm that sort of geek. I don't think I'll be able to get to them until after Christmas, though. I am *so* looking forward to a week off of work. BLISS! Maybe it will help my wanderlust calm down a bit... Although central Ohio in winter is hardly inspiring. Who knows.

*God bless Weird Al and the weird beauty that is UHF.

Currently listening to: Twin Cinema by the New Pornographers-- LOVE IT.

Marble magnets

I wanted to post something quick, because I'm really exhausted today. I went to Indy for a wedding this weekend. I don't have much to say about it, except that I have a bunch of cute pictures of the group I went with to share at a later date. Friday night I spent a couple of hours making about 100 marble magnets. It was fun and they turned out really nicely. I actually only had 50 magnets, but that's okay. I wrapped them up in festive holiday fabric and they are ready to be given out tomorrow to my co-workers.

I have about 30 pages left in David Copperfield, I hope I have the energy to finish it. I've really loved it. It deserves my entire attention.

UPDATE: I forgot to cite my sources! My high school teachers would be so disappointed, not to remember something that was drilled in our heads time and time again. Anyhow, I got the idea from various Craftster message boards, but I found Not Martha's instructions the most helpful of all.

My meatloaf

My friend Elaine came over tonight, and we had a really good, long visit. Luckily for her, she ate dinner before she arrived. For while I said I was making meatloaf for dinner, I had assumed it would be finished in a timely manner. Not so. I broke out my crockpot and tried my hand at making a meatloaf in it. Unfortunately for me, I did not read the directions to the chosen recipe very well. (This has been losing me points on math tests for ages.) While I read, "Cook 1 hour on high," I did not read, "and then cook for 6 hours on low." Blasted slow cookers. I adjusted things and watched it and cooked it reasonably enough. My ancient meat thermometer, which came from my Grandmother's kitchen and looks to be from the 1960s, said it reached the needed interior heat. Or as Natasha said, she didn't think we'd get worms. Oh well, I'm sure it will reheat nicely for dinner tomorrow. The meatloaf wasn't supreme, but my mashed potatoes were. Too bad they finished several hours apart.

Pictured to the left is me lifting said meatloaf out of my crockpot...

What's the matter with Sydney?

What the hell is going on in Sydney? This is the second race riot that has gone little reported here.

Police said carloads of people had come into the area from other parts of Sydney and committed violent acts.

Australian Prime Minister John Howard condemned the weekend's attacks by thousands of young white men on people of Arabic and Mediterranean background.

People are flocking to participate in race riots?

If you look at the photo gallery the BBC has up, the first two pictures look like it could be a frat guy fight. It's really sickening. Steve Gilliard has a good post about it over at the News Blog.

Hot dogs, Swedish candy and more snow

How can you not like a place where the staff t-shirts have this emblazoned on the back?

There are no two finer words in the English language than "encased meats," my friend.

I can get behind any establishment that believes in such a thing. Saturday Natasha, Anne, Allison and I went to Hot Doug's, the Sausage Superstore and Encased Meat Emporium. There was a line out the door, but it was worth it, plus the line moved quickly. Hot Doug's has set menue of hot dogs, bratwursts, polish sausages, etc., as well as a revolving menu of speciality sausages. The dogs are good, as are the fries. On Fridays and Saturdays they have fries fried in duck fat.

We sat next to a list of favorite German sausage expressions. My favorite:

Alles hat eine Ende, nur die Wurst hat zwei.
(Everything has an end except for sausage, it has two.)

Afterwards, Anne, Allison and I went wandering around in Andersonville. My of-Nordic descent friends showed me the wonder that is Swedish candy. Well, at least, Allison bought us some Marabou (sp?), some hazelnut chocolates. It snowed again Saturday late afternoon and we decided to leave after a little while.

I had a happy thing happen on Thursday, when an email went out to the entire staff about promotions. I had found out earlier that I got a promotion (!), but after the email went out I got a bunch of nice emails from a myriad of people I've worked with the past two years. And some from people I just know in passing. It's always nice to have a tide of goodwill emails waiting for you when you get to work on a Friday.

Snow, old friend, new hair

My friend Emily was in town last night (actually she's still in town, but is currently visiting Libby in Hyde Park, we worked out a joint custody situation). It was really great to see her. She's been in France for a while and is going back for an indeterminate time. I suppose it's always good to have a friend in Paris...

This afternoon it began to snow and snow and snow... Thick carpets of snow everywhere. I went to get my hair cut (isn't it cute?), and I think I might have found a hair stylist I can commit to. I am a floater when it comes to hair stylists. While I've been in Chicago, I've more or less gone to the same place, and I think almost every stylist in the place has cut my hair. I think I'm ready to change my ways, though. This is the second time now I've had Yolanda, and I like her work. I can't understand everything she says, but I trust her completely. My hair is all cute and flippy. I wish I could get it to do that on my own.

Some awesome live local music

I was in the midst of a snarky post referencing an article on Printculture that reminded me why I would probably punch Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes fame in the mouth if I ever ran into him on the street when I left to go out for the evening. I am not so much renewed in my faith of humanity or music, Bright Eyes hardly makes me question either thing, he just pisses me off. But, after seeing a kick ass band and a blues veteran, I thought I'd change my tune.

Tonight I went to the Hideout, which is my favorite place to see music. Granted, I only ever hear Devil in the Woodpile play there, but it is my favorite venue. It's a little bar tucked away in some old industrial area, but you walk in and you could be walking into some back-woods bar in any scary ass place you could imagine. I absolutely adore it.

Tonight Devil in the Woodpile had a special guest, 90 year old blues veteran David "Honeyboy" Edwards. According to his website:

Honeyboy is one of the last living links to Robert Johnson, and one of the last original acoustic Delta blues players. He is a living legend, and his story is truly part of history. He is the real deal.

It was awesome. He's got this gravelly voice, and the whiskey and couple PBRs put me in the perfect mood to listen to some old school blues on such a cold night.

Devil in the Woodpile is a personal favorite of my friend Ryan. He adores them and so do I. Normally, on a Tuesday night, you'll find them playing right out on the floor, next to the bar. They consist of a guy who plays the stand-up bass, a guy who plays a *mean* steel guitar, and a guy who sings and plays the harmonica, washboard and occasionally blows a jug. It's awesome. Should you ever find yourself in Chicago on a Tuesday, get to the Hideout to hear these guys play.

Dabbling in the fiber arts

I walked out of work today with a co-worker who had this cute purple rolled cap. I asked her if she made it herself, and she said she hadn't but (if she was so inclined) could have probably done so. Our other co-worker, Cindy, has become a happy knitter and is quite proficient at hats. Cindy and I, along with her officemate Shana, like to chat about our mutual interest in dabbling in the fiber arts. Shana goes beyond mere play with yarn and crafts all sorts of things. I aspire to craft more, but I think my attention span is too short or I lack the proper guidance and many of my projects lie undone. I like to look at what people are creating, though. I also have a great interest in learning how to knit. I am encouraged by reading some of the knitting blogs I frequent (A Bluestocking Knits and Enchanting Juno are two of them). I envy them their yarn, their dedication, their spatial skills. I worry I don't have the spatial skills for the complicated knitting I wish to emulate. Sigh. For now I will continue with my crochet and try to improve. I'm currently in the middle of a baby afghan for a cousin. I'm almost done with the body-- I've got a few rows to go before I need to work on the edging. I crochet so tightly, though, that I'm worried it's going to be extremely small. Even for a baby. Sigh. I've got a bunch of baby afghans in the queue, so hopefully I'll improve. I'm also working on a slightly difficult capelet that I think will be beautiful when I'm finished, but it would look terrible on my linebacker shoulders. I'm hoping my sister or roommate will like it. I chose it mostly for its difficulty, hoping it would push me a bit more. Each row is a different stitch. I'm only using a cheap worsted wool, so there is little expense, other than time. This is what happens when you begin to dabble in the fiber arts. You find yourself sucked into a world of color and texture and it is all too pretty to turn from.

Currently eating: Dark Cherry Jello with mandarin oranges floating at the top. Natasha's response to a taste: (laughing hysterically) "You must be INSANE to like that. It tastes like cough syrup." Well. There is no accounting for taste.