HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEAD

I write about a lot of things on this blog but have noticed that in the 252 posts I have only mentioned my sister, Shoshana, in seven of them. I find that to be very odd. Maybe it is because I am so protective of her that I don’t want to put Shoshana stuff out there for everyone to see. Maybe it is just because when we talk it is often in code and doesn’t make sense to other people. Either way, I think today is a good time to talk about her because today she is one quarter of a century old.

I remember running down the hall when she was being born. I remember holding her afterward and just being amazed at how much she was like me. I don’t remember the actual birth, it was probably too gross to remember or maybe I wasn’t in the room for that part.

She was a horrible baby. She was huge and mean and would push me off our mother’s lap when we were both trying to sit on it. I still loved her though. She got better as she got older, more fun to play with and easier to push back. You can’t go around pushing a baby when you are three. It’s just not right. She had this impish quality to her face and her eyes were always twinkling with mischievous intent. That quality hasn’t entirely left her. There is nothing quite as worrisome as Shoshana with a glint in her eye and a cackle on her lips. It means she will probably want me to do something. Or else that she just farted. She loves farting and general crass behavior but I don’t think she realizes that most people don’t. A weird one is that Shoshana.

She is the only extrovert in a family of introverts and sometimes that makes her incredibly annoying. She has these urges to go out and do things and has the energy of a ten year old. I would rather sit on my ass most of the time. I will say, however, that when I go to visit her she brings out the doer in me and when she comes to visit me I bring out the sitting on the couch and watching TV in her.

Some of my favorite Shoshana memories were while we were on summer vacations. We would watch MTV and The Box for hours and hours. We would play games and run around the yard. I would cook burritos for us for lunch. I would try desperately to make home friend potatoes but didn’t quite understand how long a potato had to cook and over what heat. I always made her eat what I made. I got better. Those were the days. There were also the days years later when I would come home form college and pass out in bed only to awaken to her snuggled up next to me. It creeped me out and I wanted to kick her but Shoshana has never been one to go light on the affection and I knew she just missed me.

We were always very close, even when fighting. We could always count on each other for some good game playing or Lego building. If I wanted to play Lego tomorrow she would be the first one I would think of. Unfortunately, she lives across the country and I don’t get the chance very often.

For her age, Shoshana has done quite a bit. I usually don’t think of her achievements as all that special because she’s my stupid little sister and so what. She has taught High School, worked as a community organizer, designed a new High School that opened in The Bronx, and most recently up and moved to LA to join Americorp and work with Habitat for Humanity. She’s made a difference to so many people in her life and is working on influencing more. She may even become a firefighter. I still can’t keep a straight face when I think of that prospect but if it is what she really wants I am sure she will make it happen. That’s the kind of kid she is. I’m proud of her. Even though I rarely say it I hope she always knows.

1. If this world were mine/ I would place at your feet/ all that I own/ You’ve been so good to me
2. I prayed to/ Heaven today/ Bring its hammer down on me/ And pound you out of my head/ I can’t think with you in there

3. I spend the afternoon in cars/ I sit in traffic jams for hours/ Don’t push me I am not ok

4. Fish heads/ Fish Heads/ Rolly polly fish heads/ Eat them up yum. Fishheads, Barnes and Barnes. Identified by Johnny Yen.

5. I am intrinsically no good/ I have a heart that’s made of wood/ And I am only biding time/ Only reciting memorized lines. The Hem Of Your Garment, Cake. Identified by Brooke.

A GOOD WEEK SO FAR

Yesterday I got the chance to do two new things at work. The first was to being my 8-day pre-employment workshop. Even though I am only on day 1.5 of 8 I think it is going quite smoothly and I don’t have anything to worry about. Not even the fact that my career counselor (who teaches much of the workshop with me) will be out of the office next week. I’m not quite sure why she needed to b out during my first class but so it goes. I’m fine with it. The second thing was to offer someone a job. I have told clients that they have been offered jobs before but it isn’t the same at all. This is someone whose resume I reviewed, who I called in for her interview, and who I got to make the hiring decision about. She starts tomorrow! I am so excited. Finally I can get some help around here.

To make things even better they are hiring a volunteer coordinator so I will never *fingers crossed* have to do that stupid job anymore. The candidate that I almost hired for my training assistant position ended up interviewing for that and they are going to offer her the position, unless they already did. The only bummer about that is that it isn’t someone else I had recommended who didn’t get hired because of some stupid stuff but there isn’t anything I can do about that. At least I feel a little better about not offering her the assistant position. I really liked her.

Tomorrow my little sister, Shoshana, will be twenty-five. What a grown-up age. I can hardly believe it. It makes me feel a little old, but not as old as being at that Of Montreal show did so it will be okay.

As I am in a very happy mood I think I will include a youtube clip that made me very happy last night. I was searching for live clips of Of Montreal doing songs I want them to play and but they never will I came across this video that a couple of random dudes made to the ever so wonderful, Tim Wish You Were Born A Girl. It’s less than two minutes long so none of you have any excuse but to watch and see how incredibly adorable and wonderful and sweet this song is. Then, if you are feeling extra happy (which you should be after that song), check out the Hiemdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse video because who doesn’t like a great song with a video that looks as it if cost $10 and makes no sense? I won't be mad it you don't because even though it is under four minutes that is almost twice as long as the first. One of these days I promise I will stop obsessing over this band that no one knows about. I will. Really. I mean it. Random songs are after the videos.





1. If this world were mine/ I would place at your feet/ all that I own/ You’ve been so good to me

2. Oh it’s good/ Good to see you again/ Good to meet your girlfriend/ I’ll try not to wonder where you are/ when you go outside to kiss her in the front seat of your car. Good, Bad, Ugly. Ani DiFranco. Identified by Brooke.

3. I prayed to/ Heaven today/ Bring its hammer down on me/ And pound you out of my head/ I can’t think with you in there

4. Lately I find myself out gazing at stars/ Hearing guitars/ Like someone in love. Like Someone in Love, Bjork. Identified by Brooke.

5. I spend the afternoon in cars/ I sit in traffic jams for hours/ Don’t push me I am not ok

THE BEST SHOW I ALMOST NEVER SAW

This past Sunday Monica and I went to an incredibly fantastic concert. We thought it was an Of Montreal concert, which it was, but it was also an MGMT and Grand Buffet concert. For some reason the opening acts were not listed anywhere. We had debated going to the show for some time. We initially planned to go when the tickets went on sale. After we got online and went to order them we were horrified by the $14 increase in price by using Ticketmaster (they were $19 tickets) and didn’t click buy. We then planned to go to the box office but then didn’t. Since we had just seen Of Montreal at Pitchfork we thought it might be okay if we missed the show. Seeing as they played almost exclusively from their new album (Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?) at Pitchfork, we didn’t want to go see the same show, even though we like that album much better now than we had at the time. Friday after work we decided to get tickets. Since it was their show and not a festival it would have to be longer and therefore they couldn’t only play songs from the new album because they would have more time. It made sense.

As we walked up to The Metro and looked at the people standing in line I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t just feel old, I felt really old. Damn these all ages shows! I saw at least three people who brought their mothers because they weren’t old enough to go to the big city by themselves to see a show. The average age couldn’t have been over twenty and it may have been younger. We considered not standing in line with the youth but then got over ourselves and stood. When we got inside we went up to the front of the stage and ended up talking to some kids. They were really excited that we had been at Pitchfork. We were slightly uncomfortable both with their youth and the tight proximity of folks and noticed that the balcony was mostly clear and would provide an awesome view. We decided to be more comfortable and let the kids have their fun.

MGMT was real okay. I liked one of their songs. There were plenty of fans there who liked many of their songs. I was confused. I attributed it to my age and let it go. Grand Buffet was next. When I saw a large man that looked very much like Jay McCaroll of Project Runway fame wearing a cape made out of a towel I knew this band was going to be awesome. His bandmate was a skinny man who looked surprisingly like Satan, but a nice Satan. They were utterly awesome. Their banter was hilarious and they made a lot of fun of Of Montreal. They had a $15 budget and came up with a projection of Steve Martin eating dinner uncomfortably and some random props like a broom, a stuffed dog, and a cinder block not the sophisticated theatrics of Of Montreal but just as great. It was hilarious. Not to mention that their music was incredibly fun. I highly recommend seeing them if you ever have the chance. We danced like crazy and were afraid that their show was going to be better than Of Montreal, kind of like Jamie Liddell was at Pitchfork. Luckily we were wrong.

Of Montreal started out a little rough, which was surprising because they opened with one of my favorite songs, Labyrinthian Pomp, it just sounded a little crappy and off. They followed with another awesome yet off song, She’s a Rejecter. Then, without any segue went into Suffer for Fashion, it sounded awesome. Although I was somewhat dismayed because it was as if someone had started their album at song 11, let that and song 12 play, let the album restart at 1 and then played 2 and 3. Even though songs 11-12 and 1-3 flow into each other I wanted something different. Then came a new song which featured Kevin having relations with the floor, uuhhhh…okay. I was then afraid that it would only be new songs and Hissing Fauna. After Kevin wore the floor out they went into October is Eternal, an excellent instrumental piece (that we heard at pitchfork) and he went to change.

Imagine my elation when he came back out and I heard the opening notes of Oslo in the Summertime. OH MY GOD!!! I lost my shit. That is my jam and I certainly didn’t expect it. They followed with a whole bunch of excellent cuts from Sunlandic Twins mixed with Hissing Fauna. I even enjoyed The Past is a Grotesque Animal, which is one of the two songs I don’t always listen to on Hissing Fauna. It’s much better live. I still hated Bunny Ain’t No Kind of Rider I don’t know why people like that song. It is boring.

There were a few things that I would have loved to hear. Faberge Falls For Shuggie (the only Hissing Fauna song I really would have liked to hear and didn’t although A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger would have been nice (part of me almost thinks I heard it but I didn’t), Wraith Pinned to The Mist and Other Games (which I will never hear because they don’t play it in this country anymore due to the mistake of turning it into an Outback Steakhouse commercial), and one of the many adorable songs I want to hug off Cherry Peel, The Bedside Drama, or Coquelicot Asleep In The Poppies (but I never will because they have moved past that stage in their careers). After the show Monica and I looked like we had been through it. My hair was as wet as if I had just stepped out of the shower and Monica looked like she had been at one of those 100 degree yoga sessions. Neither one of us had danced like that in…a very long time. At one point in time Monica asked me if we still like Belle and Sebastian better. I said yes. I think I might have changed my mind. But I’m not sure. We then went for snacks and wrote down the set list. Here it is

Labyrinthian Pomp
She's A Rejecter
Suffer for Fashion
Sink the Seine
Cato as a Pun
Exquisite Confessions
October is Eternal
Oslo in the Summertime
Forecast Fascist Future
Gronlandic Edit
The Past Is A Grotesque Animal
Requiem for OMM2
Bunny Ain't No Kind Of Rider
The Party's Crashing Us Now
Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse
Encore
Soft-core
Rapture Rapes the Muses
I Was Never Young

2. The times we had/ Oh when wind would blow with rain and snow/ Were not all bad. Postcards From Italy, Beirut.

3. I wanna bathe in milk/ Eat grapes/ Robert DiNero sit on my face. Reeling, PJ Harvey

SPINACH AND MUSHROOM ENCHILADAS

It has been a long time since I have done a proper Foodie Friday but since Monica asked me for the recipe for these incredibly delicious enchiladas I made on Wednesday to celebrate the Top Chef finale. I thoughttoday was a perfect time for a foodie resurrection. Some of you may be saying, “Wait, she has written about enchiladas before.” and you would be correct. These are not the same enchiladas though so it is ok. However, you could use the enchilada sauce recipe from the above post and be totally awesome. The reason these babies are so great is the food processor that Tony’s mom got me for my birthday. Coating the cheese in the spinach makes for the creamiest delicious fluffy filling around.

-1lb or so of fresh spinach
-1/2 small jalapeño pepper
-2 cloves garlic pressed
-½ tbsp butter
-½ white onion
-2 limes
-2tbsp cilantro
-12 small tortillas (flour or corn)
-10oz Chihuahua cheese
-1lb mushrooms sliced thickly
-2 cans enchilada sauce (I think they are about 5oz each I used red but green would also be quite tasty (or you can make some))

-Preheat oven to 450

-Place the spinach, half of the jalapeño, 1 clove garlic, half the onion, juice from one lime, and half the cilantro in a food processor. Blend until it is the consistency of pesto, it shouldn’t take long.

-Grate 7oz of cheese into a large bowl and then toss with all but about 1/4cup of the spinach mixture so the cheese is nicely coated.

-Melt butter in a large sauté pan, when hot add the rest of the onion. I sliced it into long strips and that worked very well, let cook briefly and then add the second clove of garlic, let it cook for about a minute and then add the mushrooms and the other half of the jalapeño diced let cook until mushrooms are nice and tender. Douse the entire mixture with juice of ½ lime

-Heat tortillas until soft about 40 sec in the microwave

-Coat a deep baking pan with one can of enchilada sauce

-Place about 1/8 cup of the spinach and cheese mixture on each tortilla then spoon about a tbsp of the mushroom mixture on top spreading evenly.

-Roll the tortillas and place them in the pan

-Cover with the other can of enchilada sauce and the remaining cheese

-Bake about 20 minutes

-Serve with about a tbsp of the spinach mixture drizzled over the enchilada or on the side of the plate, garnish with a small lime wedge from the ½ lime you have left over and the remaining cilantro can be sprinkled playfully over the enchiladas.

Enjoy

1. You’ve got style/ That’s what other girls say/ Satin sheets/ and luxuries so fine. Dress You Up, Madonna. Identified by Urban Chick

2. The times we had/ Oh when wind would blow with rain and snow/ Were not all bad

3. I wanna bathe in milk/ Eat grapes/ Robert DiNero sit on my face

4. She came she came to meet a man/ she found an angel/ Coocoo coocoo Barabajagal was his name oh. Barabajagal, Donovan. Identified by Monica

5. Let's have bizarre celebrations/ Let’s forget who forget what forget where. Wraith Pinned To The Mist and Other Games, Of Montreal. Identified by Identified by Monica

THIS STATE I'M IN

On Tuesday I will be starting yet another phase in my career at Jobs For Youth. I will begin teaching the 8-day pre-employment workshop that we offer. I have little to no idea of what I am doing. Everyone around me is certain that I will have no problems and they are probably correct. I just like to have a finite plan for work.

Apparently, no written curriculum exists for this class. There is an outline with the topics that need to be covered and how much time will be spent on each topic. I think that it will be sufficient but I am not sure. I did get one written sheet yesterday that talked about the orientation that will be given to students on the first day. That made me feel a little bit better.

I guess that I know the material; resumes, interview questions, cover letter, thanks you letter, job applications and the like. All that stuff I am fine with. There is also a “Money Smart” component where I talk about budgeting and the benefits of using financial institutions over currency exchanges or your sock drawer. I think that section is where I am the most nervous. I certainly am ok at managing my finances but I would like a little more training before teaching others. I’m sure it will be ok though.

I also have to get everything in order for my assistant. I interviewed four people last week and my supervisor will be interviewing two of them to help with the final decision. I think I already know who will get the offer but I wanted someone to make sure I was making the right decision even though I know I am. I have never been good at making decisions but maybe I just need to man up and make things happen.

I’ll spend these next few days getting things in order with my contract to pass on to my soon to be hired Training Assistant. I am really excited about this. I have a huge list of duties of things I would have really liked to do with the grant contract but haven’t had time to do that I can’t wait for them to get started on. I also just got the grant for next year’s grant, which actually overlaps this one and the Training Assistant will get to start that one going as well. It was actually a funny process.

My contact in Springfield sent me an email with the new reporting tool for the 07-08 grant. I was very confused because I didn’t know this grant was in existence I asked my boss who told me to ask the grant guy who told me to ask the executive director. No one knew what I was talking about. I finally asked my Springfield contact to fax me a copy of the grant. There it was 82,000 worth of work that needed to be attended to. It had the ED’s signature on it from May so he must have just forgotten about it. I’m not behind at all and the requirements are actually lower than the ones for the current grant period and I know it will be well taken care of. I just wish I had been able to be even more prepared. Oh well, so it goes.

Now, back to the random songs.

1. You’ve got style/ That’s what other girls say/ Satin sheets/ and luxuries so fine

2. The times we had/ Oh when wind would blow with rain and snow/ Were not all bad

3. I wanna bathe in milk/ Eat grapes/ Robert DiNero sit on my face

4. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know/ sometimes I feel like checking out/ I wanna get it wrong/ Can’t always be strong. Ultraviolet, U2. Identified by The Doc

5. She came she came to meet a man/ she found an angel/ Coocoo coocoo Barabajagal was his name no.

DINNER WITH GERMANS

On Friday night I went for Indian food with my new work friend, Franz the German exchange social worker, Bianca a German exchange worker in Franz’s program, Monica, and Tony. We had an awesome time. The food was delicious, Monica didn’t get an allergic reaction, and we had some excellent laughs.

During dinner Tony asked Franz and Bianca if the German exchange student he knew in High School was a typical guy. See Tony had these suspicions that this guy was a total nerd. He would say things like “I am a scooter boy and scooter boys are the coolest!” while dancing the “scooter dance” He also LOVED Boney M. As Tony had suspected, scooter boys are not cool at all, particularly if they are huge Boney M fans. They are kind of like a more pathetic version of emo kids. Tony felt much better because he was certain that this guy was a wiener but didn’t want to hold these suspicions if he truly was cool in Germany. Tony also had a great moment discussing scooters when he said, “you know, scooters, vroom vroom” and the Germans looked at him like, duh of course. Tony was confused because we were also talking about some German pop sensation named Scooter and he was just trying to be clear but, in actually, Tony was the only one who was confused.

After we left the restaurant we took a short walk down Devon Avenue because Franz wanted to see what was around. I explained that it would look something like this, sari store, restaurant, jewelry store, sari store, etc. I was actually wrong because the jewelry stores didn’t start for a few blocks and instead there were little convenience stores in their place. Regardless we got the picture and decided to wait for the bus.

I asked Monica if she had read the Hillbilly article I posted that day and we started laughing at how horrible it was. Franz asked, “What is a hillbilly?” so Monica, Tony, and I let the stereotypes fly. I have never claimed to be particularly politically correct. Sure racism makes me mad and I get a good laugh out of it but I’m not above the occasional stereotype. Hypocritical? Sure, but at least I’m honest. I will also admit that we were kind of explaining white trash or rednecks and not hillbillies but we did later correct ourselves while explaining that the terms were somewhat interchangeable but not entirely.

As Tony said, “it is always okay to make fun of white trash,” Monica and I agreed. It just is. You can argue but you will be wrong .We explained that you can spot one by their plaid shirts, mesh caps, wife-beaters (cause they like to beat their wives), cheap beer, (I also learned that beer is considered food in Germany) and eagerness to call you a faggot and kick your ass. I told Franz that this last thing would particularly apply to him being male and European. Monica added that they would also probably call him British because all Europeans are British to white trash. Tony told Bianca that, as a German woman, white trash would probably expect her to walk around carrying beer steins and wearing lederhosen at all times. People at the bus stop looked at us like we were insane and they had every right to do so. Franz saw a guy in a motorcycle and asked us what kind of person he was to which we replied, “he’s just a guy on a bike,” which he was. “VROOM VROOM” was all Franz had to say about that, which was incredibly hilarious. Monica made sure to let the Germans know that you can’t always tell white trash by looking at them but once they say “hey faggot I’m gonna kick you ass,” you would know. She is right.

When we got on the bus we had to be quiet in case there were any white trash types on the bus. It appeared to be safe so we kept talking. We learned that the German equivalent of white trash is loosely translated as “land egg” I would type the German word but I couldn’t even pronounce it and Franz is gone for the day. I like the term though, it makes sense.

Now I realize that we are probably horrible people for teaching the Germans this stuff. We felt kind of like the 8th graders telling the 2nd graders bad words but it was so incredibly funny that we couldn’t stop. ot that Franz and Bianca are like second graders but, you know what I mean. I’m sure that someone will call me a faggot and kick my ass any day now for payback. That will suck.

HILLBILLIES: WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

When I got home from work yesterday Tony called me to the computer to view this fifty year old article from Time Magazine about hillbillies. He wasn’t sure if it was incredibly funny or utterly appalling. I came to the conclusion that it was both. It was funny in the same way as I find all racism funny; its utter disregard and lack of understanding for people and their situations. I thought the article served as a nice juxtaposition to my post from yesterday. I enjoy writing about all issues of inequality, even the old ones.

In 2007, you wouldn’t find an article such as this outside a publication geared towards bigots and hate-mongers. You certainly won’t find it in one of our most recognized magazines. This article let me look back to another time. While I knew that most migrant groups were reviled no matter who they were, to see this article really drove it home.

Some of my favorite parts of the article are as follows:

“Coming from states whose literacy rates are below the national average (exception: Missouri), the clannish, independent migrants show a deep-rooted aversion not only for the law, but also for sanitation, schooling, church, and most other alien urban institutions as well.”

“Reporter Browning set out to stalk and observe a species ‘whose customs and culture-patterns are as incomprehensible to us as dial telephones are to them’”

“They have the lowest moral code, if any, of any [group], the biggest capacity for liquor and the most savage and vicious tactics when drunk, which is most of the time.”

Fifty years ago wasn’t the distant past by any means. I wonder where those hillbillies, and their children, are today. Are the second generation hillbillies still afraid of immunizations? Where in the city do they live? How long did it take them to “assimilate” into everyday Chicago culture? Are they still bitter about the way that their families were treated? If they, as the group that was called the most alien migrants that ever came to Chicago can overcome such stereotypes, why has it been harder for other groups?

These questions are probably not all that hard to answer. You just have to do a little digging. The question I hear asked most often when talking about these issues is the last one and that is the easiest of them all to explain. The answer is that these people fundamentally look the same as the majority of the population. When they get rid of their sure hillbilly signs of “shoulder length bobs (slightly matted, heavily greased) and bubble gum,” they become barely distinguishable from a “native” city resident. In my opinion, the ability to look like the majority with little effort is essential to “fitting in”. I wish that were not true but I think that it is. Until we can get past visual labels we will be unable to truly unite as a country. I think we are working on it, but it is taking far too long. We’ll see where we stand in another fifty years.

RACISM CAN ALWAYS GET ME WRITING

In the midst of learning a new job and working my two current jobs I haven’t been able to do much in the way of posting. Despite the enormous amount of work I have been doing I have simply not had all that much to say. Thanks to the glory that is Bill O’Reilly I now have plenty of fodder.

I’m sure that by now most of you have heard about our dear friend Bill’s trip to Sylvia’s restaurant in Harlem. Back in ‘97 I went to Sylvia’s and enjoyed some delicious macaroni and cheese. I hear that the quality has changed somewhat since Sylvia has passed, but that is beyond the point. Bill also seemed to have a wonderful time at the restaurant as you can see from the comments he then made. According to him, the comments were an attempt to discuss the fact that America as a country needs to get away from race-based thinking because there aren’t all that many differences between the races. To prove his point he made some of the most wonderfully racist comments I have heard in ages.

“And I couldn't get over the fact that there was no difference between Sylvia's restaurant and any other restaurant in New York City. I mean, it was exactly the same, even though it's run by blacks, primarily black patronship. It was the same, and that's really what this society's all about now here in the U.S.A.”

That’s a great observation. This guy really gets it! If he were actually trying to show his fans the lack of difference between the races would he have begun the statement with something like “I couldn’t get over the fact,”? No I think not. He claims that his words have been taken totally out of context. Sorry, you can’t take that out of context. You can’t hide the genuine surprise that is inherent in that statement. Wow, black people owning and running things that aren’t fucked up, what a concept. At least he brought it back to a statement about equality…sort of. But that wasn’t the half of it. The crowning statement was to follow.

“There wasn't one person in Sylvia's who was screaming, "M-Fer, I want more iced tea."

He must have been there on a day when the patrons were truly on their best behavior. I know that when I go to a primarily Black restaurant I hear people cursing and yelling for iced tea all the time. In fact, when I don’t encounter such behavior I am almost as surprised as Bill O’Reilly. When I go to a restaurant and no one yells I just don’t even know what to do with myself. He went on to follow the priceless iced tea comment with this:

“You know, I mean, everybody was -- it was like going into an Italian restaurant in an all-white suburb in the sense of people were sitting there, and they were ordering and having fun. And there wasn't any kind of craziness at all.”

My question for him is this, how would he expect any business to run for decades if the kind of craziness that was lacking at Sylvia’s was the norm? Does he think that the Black patrons would put up with going to a restaurant where people are yelling across the room for M-Fing iced tea? I somehow doubt that they would. However, it seems to me that what he is trying to say is that much of white America sees Black America as rowdy, uncouth, and irresponsible to the point that a neighborhood, and even national, landmark would be ripe of that type of behavior. He certainly seems to feel that way. If he is right in his defense of his statements and they were honestly made to make a point about how there really isn’t much difference in the races he needs to re-examine his surprise. If that is truly how the majority of white America feels then our country is truly a sad place.

REUNITED ONCE AGAIN

As I was driving to my friend Jenny’s house I had a strange sense of calm. This part was going to be easy. All the people that would be there were certain to be happy to see me. The only twinge of nerves that I got was in trying to find a parking space. It wasn’t hard but I was determined not to have to parallel park and spaces I thought I could fit in were just a little too small. I planned on arriving fashionably late but was the first one to arrive. No worries, Jenny and I were friends and we would have plenty to talk about. It isn’t every day that you get to sit down with someone who is about to go help build governments in Liberia. Soon after they all trickled in; Emily, Sarma, Miako, Mara, and Jasmine I had seen most of them since High School but none in the last four years or so. It was like no time at all had passed. We caught up, looked at old pictures, and Emily pointed out that none of us had peaked in High School. Good to know. Then it was time to head down the street and over to the actual reunion.

As I walked in my stomach clenched. I was sure that by rolling seven deep all sense of nerves would easily disappear, I was wrong. I looked into the room and saw a sea of faces that I mostly remembered. Jasmine looked at me and let me know she just got nervous herself. I felt a little better. I saw my friend Evelyn who was on the badminton team with me and went to say hello. About twenty seconds into the conversation I realized I was not talking to Evelyn and had no idea who I was speaking to. I got out of there fast but no one seemed to notice. Why wasn’t she wearing a nametag and why did she look at me when I said Evelyn? Oh well, crisis easily avoided. We went to get a drink because you always look less out of place in a bar with a drink in your hand and then scanned the room for people I actually wanted to talk to.

Surprisingly, there were some people of interest. People I hadn’t thought about in ages but who I had shared some good times with. They were the ones who I was most interested in talking to. There were some that got a nice nod or a quick hello but others who I wanted to reminisces with, people who I was actually interested in. Granted they were few and far between but seeing them really meant something. I think I managed to put off only one person. The last think I said to this guy was, “I might never see you again and that is ok with me.” I didn’t mean any offense by the statement, it was simply true. He actually nodded. We talked briefly and he mentioned that he was engaged. I said, “good job,” and he looked a little offended. Emily told me I probably shouldn’t say things that sound like I am surprised anyone would want to marry someone, I guess she has a point. I got to tell a good friend’s wife about the day we ha in High School to “honor” him. See he used to wear his flannel shirts all the way unbuttoned and tucked in. He kept the shirt open about four inches, two on either side of his belt buckle. Emily and I came to school dressed that way one day. I mean how do you tuck in an unbuttoned shirt with precision and not expect people to pay homage? His wife thought it was the funniest thing ever and vowed to have a similar day of her own.

I have friends doing really interesting things; moving to Liberia to help get the government up and running, running a biology lab, working in non-profits, going back to school, finishing up residency, etc. They also seemed really interested in what I did, which was nice because I sometimes take the good I do for granted. My only complaint was that you don’t charge people $15 for a function and then only have an open bar for an hour. No that it mattered to me because I was driving, but still. All I can say is that I am very glad that I went and hope that some people will be true to their word and come visit me. The rest I’ll see in 2017.

WHY WERE THEY MAD AT ME?

Question 1: Do people who are obviously having a good time make you smile or frown?
Question 2: Does it depend on the type of thing they are doing to obviously have a good time?

These were the two questions that I believe were answered last week as Monica and I conducted a little experiment. Well, it didn’t start out as an experiment, it started out as Monica and I seeing which songs we liked on Of Montreal’s album Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? as it turned out we liked most of the songs a lot. The exceptions were “The Past is a Grotesque Animal”, and “Bunny Ain’t No Kind of Rider”.

It was about 6pm. We parked ourselves at the northeast corner of Dearborn and Wacker (a fairly busy spot for the business types considering the time of day) and, harkening back to the days where we rode the blue line home together, each grabbed an iPod earbud and got to listening. As we listened we tapped our feet and bopped our heads to the beat. We smiled and softly sang along to some of the tunes (until it got dark, then we sang loudly). We were obviously happy. As we sat, we noticed people were responding to us in a wide variety of ways. Some tried desperately to ignore us because they didn’t want to stare. Some really wanted to stare but did not indicate if they were staring in pleasure, confusion, or anger they were just staring. Some simply didn’t care one way or the other. Some were pleased by our fun. Others were filled with disdain. We decided to up our efforts a little bit and see what happened.

Those filled with disdain, although in the minority, made an incredible impression. They seemed to truly hate us. We weren’t even that annoying because most of the disdainful folk came by before we started singing very loud. There was one very drunk woman who looked at us as if we were demon spawn. I don’t see what is so terrible about a couple of ladies boppin' to music that no one else can hear but she thought it was in very poor taste. There was an older man who just looked at us and shook his head disapprovingly. There was a woman in a striped sweater who made a “huff” type of noise and turned her nose up a bit. There was even a guy in a truck who stared at us as if we were setting the race back a few decades and rolled up his window. We weren’t asking for money or anything, just enjoying some music. Still, our ease and obvious merriment made them uncomfortable

Of the people who tried not to stare I didn’t think too much. They were just people who wanted to go about their business and I have certainly found myself trying not to look at people who I didn’t want to acknowledge me. Maybe they thought we were going to try and sing to them, or ask them for money, or speak. It doesn’t matter, I got them. The ones that blatantly stared without any reaction good or bad were another thing all together. The ones that really stuck with me were two women, about our age, who were in a taxi stopped in front of us at the light. They made me really sad. The look on their face as they were staring told me that, while they realized we were having an excellent time, they would not have been comfortable doing something so obviously “weird”. It simply would not have fit into their young professional lifestyle. They seemed to wonder why they were so much older than us. It was a little depressing. I also enjoyed the stares of the elderly, they just seemed miffed. There was also a taxi full of guys about our age who were just craning their necks to see what was going on, they obviously thought we were very interesting.

However, my favorite types by far were the people who seemed to share in our happiness. There were the guys who were taking a photo of a building by us and when Monica missed taking a picture of him taking a picture he gladly posed and she got an excellent shot. There were children in the car with their father who looked at us and smiled and told their daddy. He smiled and waved out of the window of his car. There was the guy on the motorcycle who came up to the corner to smile and bop his head along with us. There were the older businessmen who appreciated our loud rendition of Fortunate Son. There was even the homeless guy who seemed intrigued by our singing and wanted a concert, much to our discomfort. Whoever these people were, we made them happy just by having fun and those are the types of people I would want to be friends with and I am glad we were able to make their day a little brighter. They made me smile a little bigger, dance a little more, and sing a little louder which, in turn, probably annoyed people I didn’t like more. Awesome.

1. In one hand dreams a plenty/ In her smile a secret spell/ In her blood disappointments/ These she knows oh too well.

2. I rap for listeners/ Bluntheads, fly ladies, and prisoners/ Hennessey holders and old school niggas then I’ll be dissin/ an unofficial that smoke woolie Thai/ I dropped out of Cooley High

3. It’s too good/ It’s too nice/ She makes me finish too quick/ Is it love/ No not love/ She turns my sexual tricks. Suffocated Love, Tricky. Identified by Ern and thanks for the lyric correction!

4. I miss you/ But I haven’t met you yet/ So special/ But it hasn’t happened yet. I Miss You, Bjork. Identified by Friend.

And a special song just for the birthday girl, FRIEND, Happy Birthday Friend! No one but Friend is allowed to name this song even if they know it and they really want to.

5. Now I’m just average common too/ I’m just like him the same as you/ I’m everybody’s brother and son/ I ain’t different than anyone/ Ain’t no use in talking to me/ Just the same as talking to you. I Shall Be Free #10, Bob Dylan. Identified by Friend, just like she was supposed to do.

FROM ABOVE YOU IT DEVOURS

This morning I hopped out of bed, donned a robe, and stepped into the hallway. I was immediately greeted with a horrific thought. Winter is almost here. I know, I know, it is technically quite a way off and there is an entire season called fall before winter truly arrives. Regardless, I felt the biting sting of cold on my face, fingers, and feet and all I wanted to do was to crawl back into bed and cry.

It has been a really nice summer. I have enjoyed wonderful weather, most of it not annoyingly hot. I have had nice vacations and plenty of in the city fun. It has very likely been one of the better summers I have had in some time. Maybe that is the reason that I am so reluctant for it to end. It has simply been too nice. Maybe I have an even nicer fall and a stupendous winter ahead of me. I just don’t know. All I know was that it was cold. Like up at the cabin without proper clothing cold. Boo.

According to the seven-day forecast, there isn’t a single day about 70 in sight. I know it is September and I know I live in Chicago but it still doesn’t seem right. Why is it that 60 degree weather as we ease into fall feels so incredibly warm but as we leave summer it is so gosh darned cold.

On a happier note, I have decided to go to my High School reunion on the 22th. I am still a little mad at them that it is on Yom Kippur but oh well. I told the planning people very early on that I thought that was very rude being the highest of the High Holy days and all. They didn’t seem to care although someone did mention that they would bring it up to the planning committee. Such a thing would never happen in New York. Unfortunately, Tony won’t be coming with me. I would have liked to see him by my side but it just isn’t practical financially and it is a lot of family time all at once. Tony loves my family very much but they aren’t his family and three visits in a month is a lot for him. He also could care less about meeting people I went to high school with. I guess it is just that insecure teenage girl in me that wants to have a boyfriend. What a lame I am. I’ll be meeting up with some good friends beforehand for dinner and in all honesty hearing they were going to be getting together and them saying how great it would be if I came was my main motivation. We’ll see how it goes.

1. In one hand dreams a plenty/ In her smile a secret spell. In her blood disappointments/ These she knows oh too well.

2. I rap for listeners/ Bluntheads, fly ladies, and prisoners/ Hennessey holders and old school niggas then I’ll be dissin/ an unofficial that smoke woolie Thai/ I dropped out of Cooley High

3. It’s too good/ It’s too nice/ She makes me fingers too quick/ Is it love/ No not love/ She turns my sexual tricks

4. I miss you/ But I haven’t met you yet/ So special/ But it hasn’t happened yet

And a special song just for the birthday girl, FRIEND, Happy Birthday Friend! No one but Friend is allowed to name this song even if they know it and they really want to.

5. Now I’m just average common too/ I’m just like him the same as you/ I’m everybody’s brother and son/ I ain’t different than anyone/ Ain’t no use in talking to me/ Just the same as talking to you

WHAT'S TO BECOME OF ME

Something rather tragic has happened. I don’t know what to watch. If you have been reading this blog for any amount of time you know that I LOVE TV. It makes me so happy that I even rent TV. In fact, for the last two years, Tony and I have been renting Angel and Buffy from Netflix. We finished Angel about a year or so ago and have been watching Buffy ever since. Now, before you write me off, please understand that I too was skeptical of these shows. I thought they were crap for ubernerds to watch because they can’t make friends. I was wrong. They are shows for ubernerds to watch when they don’t feel like seeing their friends or would rather enjoy a nice day on the couch. What I am trying to say is that I really underestimated these shows. I am so glad Tony made me watch them. They are good, like Flight of the Conchords good or even Arrested Development good. Granted, they may not appeal to the same audiences and many people will argue with me but the self-aware ridiculousness of them compiled with strong female role-models and a sci-fi twist really makes for quality television.

Anyway, over the weekend we watched Buffy season 7 disc 6, the final disc in our two series 12 season extravaganza. It was quite a wonderful ending I went through every possible emotion which is the mark of a great series finale. It felt finished unlike Angel, which felt finished but rushed. It was though because they received word mid-season that it would be their last. They had to wrap things up pretty quick. Damn those evil network executives who didn’t know that Angel was easily one of the best shows ever it was easily better than Buffy (although some may disagree) but got two less seasons. Crap.

I digress, what I am trying to say is that I no longer know what TV to rent from Netflix. We rented Undeclared since Tony hadn’t seen it and we like that Apatow but, although a fine program that was cancelled before its time, it isn’t as quality as the shows we just finished watching. Someone suggested that we watch Charmed since we like Angel and Buffy so much but, from what I have seen of that show, it isn’t as smart or as funny or as well done and that would just be a huge letdown. We were pushed toward Firefly since we obviously like Joss Whedon but it is just a little too hardcore Sci-fi for us to get into. Whatever should be done? We need help. I fear nothing will ever come close to satisfying my TV renting again.

Don’t tell me to go out and explore the world. I explore when I feel like it and winter just around the corner. Don’t tell me to watch Desperate Housewives or Grey’s Anatomy, I’ve seen little bits of those shows and am simply not impressed. I need humor, witticism, creativity, and the unexpected. I need to never have watched these glorious series so that I can experience them all over again for the first time. I need a show that I have low expectations for to come in and hook me hard, I need a revelation. What, oh what, should I do? I know, reveal the unguessed songs from last week.

1. I went all the way to Paris/ To forget your face/ Captured in stained glass/ Young lives long since past/ Statues of lovers everyplace. History of Us, Indigo Girls

2. Baby your magic is working/ I lose control of myself/ Whenever you are near me/ I feel myself changing/ From a guy thought too cynical for love into a hopeless romantic. Your Magic is Working, Of Montreal

5. I like a girl with caked up make-up/ in the sunshine smoking cigarettes to pass the time/ Who wakes up to a bottle of wine. So Rich, So Pretty, Mickey Avalon

WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE FOR A NORMAL DAY

The saga at work continues. I felt significantly better this morning and headed off to work with a spring in my step. You know that feeling when you thought you were going to die and then all of a sudden life is shiny and new, yeah, it was that kind of morning. Then I got to the office. Upon walking in the building I immediately stuffed up again thus realizing the probably cause of my curious and sudden ailment. Working in a building with half-finished ceilings and constant construction=throat infection. I wonder why I didn’t figure that out before. After that initial disappointment, I walked into the large room where my desk resides and noticed that my desk was out of place and empty except for the broken remnants of the wonderful wax ant that Tony made me. I looked in horror and wonder at what was going on. At least Tony’s birthday present was sitting on a desk in the corner, it being his birthday and all I would have been sad had it not arrived.

Apparently, people were bringing the fire door that will close the reception area off from the elevator bank though my window. I turned around and hit the down button on the elevator. I went downstairs, dropped my Netflix in the mail and headed to Dunkin’ Donuts for a bagel. I brought the bagel upstairs and went directly to the lunchroom, not even stopping to see what was going on in my work area. I sat there with the paper and leisurely ate. I tried not to think of the students I had to call for my class on Monday or the Volunteers I had to call to tell them the workshop they signed up to volunteer for was cancelled. I would get to them when I could. It was beyond my control.

As I sat there doing the crossword, I was informed that not only LaVerne (who has the desk opposite mine) and myself were kicked out of the work area but both of our entire departments had to evacuate for safety reasons. I chuckled and tried to think of a five letter acronym for plans not working out as they were drawn up. Oh, FUBAR, of course (that wasn’t actually in the crossword but wouldn’t it have been funny if it was). I was told the Executive Director was taking our departments out for breakfast but since I had just eaten a bagel and wasn’t exactly a happy camper, I opted out. So did LaVerne. Instead we sat and griped and I found the number for the Volunteer who was scheduled for Monday in the Volunteer Director’s office where I put all the stuff I no longer wanted to deal with.

At about noon my work station was essentially up and running. I couldn’t set up my desk properly though because an electrician has to come over the weekend and fix some things. I was only allowed the bare bones, a computer and a phone. It would serve my needs. I also spent some time in my new classroom watching people hang up white boards. That was fun. It is now 3:11. I have done all the work I can do at my limited workstation and I haven’t taken a lunch. I wonder if that means I can leave an hour early. I doubt it. Have a good weekend all.

1. I went all the way to Paris/ To forget your face/ Captured in stained glass/ Young lives long since past/ Statues of lovers everyplace

2. Baby your magic is working/ I lose control of myself/ Whenever you are near me/ I feel myself changing/ From a guy thought too cynical for love into a hopeless romantic

3. Somebody took the papers/ And somebody’s got the key/ And somebody’s nailed the door shut that says hey what you think that you see. Cool It Down, Velvet Underground. Identified by Monica

4. Hey little sister what have you done/ Hey little sister whose the only one/ Hey little sister whose your superman/ Hey little sister whose the one you want. White Wedding, Billy Idol. Identified by Mom.

5. I like a girl with caked up make-up/ in the sunshine smoking cigarettes to pass the time/ Who wakes up to a bottle of wine

WHY CAN'T YOU BE THE SICKEST AT THE DR?

Last night before I went to sleep I thought to myself that today would be the first day since Aug 15th that I would go to work two days in a row. When I woke up at 4:45am with huge sneezes and a throat that just didn’t want to swallow and a temp of 99.8 (very high for someone who is normally in the low 98s) I realized that today would, in fact, not be a day for going to work. I called the office and let them know that I would instead be hitting the Dr’s office and I would keep them posted.

I got up at eight so I could make an appointment and then got back in bed for a few hours. I headed to the Dr at 11. I checked my temp before leaving the house and it was at 99.3, still very high for me. The train was so unbearably slow that I somehow managed to end up being fifteen minutes late to the Drs office. It didn’t help that they had also switched floors in the building but that only added another minute onto my commute time. I sat around the office for a little while reading the cursed Red Eye. That paper is like crack, I know it is bad for me but I just can’t stop. Not that I ever have done crack but I have heard stories and I have an active imagination.

The nurse took my temp in the office, it was an incredibly normal 98.6. That is still a little high for me but not at all impressive. I was somewhat disappointed. My throat didn’t hurt as much as it had, my neck didn’t feel like it was in the early stages of Meningitis, and I could kind of speak without sounding like some kind of non-human creature. Why is it that whenever I make it to the Dr I am never as sick as when I decided to go? I don’t think I am the only one who has this problem. I think it is universally experienced. It just isn’t right.

I waited for the Dr and read InStyle. The magazine had a perfume sample in it somewhere and I hoped the nauseating smell would be enough to make me seem sicker when my Dr came in. I don’t think I needed it. She looked in my throat and felt my glands and promptly concluded that I had a throat infection but luckily came in early enough that it hadn’t gotten incredibly horribly bad. Not that my throat wasn’t red and gross, it just could have been worse. She wrote me a prescription and sent me on my way. I shouldn’t be contagious by tomorrow morning so back to work I go. However, Mom thinks that the half constructed office may be the cause of my illness and she may be right. If that building makes me feel worse I am taking home a few sheets of paper and making some calls and that will be that.

1. I went all the way to Paris/ To forget your face/ Captured in stained glass/ Young lives long since past/ Statues of lovers everyplace

2. Baby your magic is working/ I lose control of myself/ Whenever you are near me/ I feel myself changing/ From a guy thought too cynical for love into a hopeless romantic

3. Rush hour/ And the day is dawning/ And the rain came/ And pushed me under the awning. Ani DiFranco, Rush Hour. Identified by Brooke.

4. Let me tell you how it will be/ There’s one for you nineteen for me. Taxman, The Beatles. Identified by Brooke.

5. It was the third of September/ The day I’ll always remember/ Yes I will/ Cause that was the day that my Daddy died. Papa Was A Rolling Stone, The Temptations. Identified by Mom.

BACK TO IT

Things seem to finally be getting back to normal. After my planned vacation I returned to work to hear that I was getting an unplanned vacation because the new office building we were moving into wasn’t ready. We were given three days off and asked to report in Friday the 31st at the new location. On Friday we worked for about half the day because things still weren’t really ready to go. When I came back to the office today I still had no power and no phone at my workstation.

Notice how I said workstation and not office? That is because I no longer have an office. Despite constant reassurances and the fact that my office was on the floor plan it no longer exists because there wasn’t room for it. There are, however, about 8 storage rooms and one empty office. The empty office is, I believe, an overflow area for the executive team to work in when their offices, the board room, and the executive work area just aren’t doing it. When I complained about this in an angry email I got called into the Deputy Director’s office and was told I was unprofessional. Huh. I would have thought it was unprofessional to neglect to tell an employee that they no longer have an office and let them find out when they go to tour the new facility, but maybe I am wrong.

When I came in this morning there was still no power and no phone. I helped unpack some other rooms and sat around until about 12:30 when I left with a co-worker for a nice long lunch. When I got back both the phone and the computer were on. Hooray. That means I can get back to the important things like my job and my blog. I start teaching my Customer Service class again next week. That should be awesome.

Over the holiday weekend my parents were in town for the Chicago Jazz fest. It was a great time. While they were here we listened to good music and ate good food. In fact, we even hit up The Gage where Johnny Yen works but I didn’t see anyone there that looked like him. The food was just as awesome as he says it is on his blog. YUM. It was so great to have them here, even though I just saw them the other week in Minneapolis. I love those guys.

At Jazz fest there were a couple of jerks and I love to talk about jerks on my blog. Jerk #1 was the no smoking lady. While I am a huge supporter of no smoking in areas where there are no smoking signs or where it is socially expected that no one light up, I am not a huge supporter of asking people not to smoke when there are none of those things going on; like at a free outdoor concert in the park. She first turned to some young folk and held up a fake cigarette to her lips while giving them a disapproving wag of the finger. It wasn’t just what she was doing but the way in which she was doing it that made me want to die. After they put their cigarettes out (nice kids because if it was certain folk I know they would have blown smoke in her face or used her head for an ashtray) she turned to a grown man a row in front of her. He looked at her like she had lost her mind so she went to security. The guard she approached was smoking, which was pretty funny. Although I couldn’t hear their conversation the security guard did a lot of shrugging and shaking her head while the lady waved her hands about and looked upset. On her way back the lady spoke to the smoking man again and he got up and left the seating area to finish his cigarette. This leaves me with a question, did she lie to the man or was he just fed up with her?

Then there was the self-important jerk sitting all alone in the row in front of my parents and I. This guy turned to some young people who appeared to be tourists from Japan who were sitting next to us and did the talking motion with his hands at them. They weren’t talking very loud because I couldn’t hear them and I was right there. In fact, my Mom and I had to be talking just as loud. He didn’t say anything to us though. Again, it is a free outdoor concert, get a life guy. Then some kids came and sat in the row in front of him despite the fact that he had five empty seats on one side of him and about seven on the other, he tapped one of the kids on the shoulder and asked if he would trade seats with his shorter friend so that this guy could see. The kicker is that they moved. Maybe I am an ass but I would have looked at him and said, “Why don’t you see if your view improves in one of the twelve empty seats surrounding you?” How rude.

To continue with things getting back to normal, here are some songs to guess.

1. I went all the way to Paris/ To forget your face/ Captured in stained glass/ Young lives long since past/ Statues of lovers everyplace

2. Tie yourself to me/ No one else knows/ You’re not rid of me/ No you’re not rid of me. Rid Of Me, PJ Harvey. Identified by Eve.

3. No you didn’t just leave/ I actually kicked you out/ I couldn’t hardly believe that the words came out my mouth. In The Way, Ani DiFranco. Identified by Brooke.

4. I don’t want to wait in vain for your love/ From the very first time I set my eyes on you girl/ My heart says follow through. Waiting in Vain, Bob Marley. Identified by Phil

5. Baby your magic is working/ I lose control of myself/ Whenever you are near me/ I feel myself changing/ From a guy thought too cynical for love into a hopeless romantic

THREE DAYS OF WOODSY FUN

The main point of our vacation was to spend some time at my friend Stephanie’s cabin. Her great grandfather built this place way up north in Minnesota and her grandfather added a second cabin so he could have some peace and quiet when all the grandkids came. It is now a getaway that her family shares. We planned for three days of boating, floating in the lake, and general fun in the sun. After the four-hour drive up North (complete with traffic for no reason) we parked and then it was straight onto the boat! I’m glad we did it because it would prove to be the only time we would get out on the water.

(Steph, Ryan, and Rachel on the boat)

It was cold at the cabin. We hadn’t packed for it. Luckily I took a few long sleeved shirts from my father before we left because without them it would have been horrible. There were a few hoodies in the cabin as well and they also came in handy. A few times we even resorted to wearing our bathrobes because they were one of the few things with sleeves that we had at our disposal. Despite the cold, we were able to eek out a good time.

Steph’s cousin, Christian, who once lived with Monica and I for 9 days and deserves a special place in the roommate horror stories was also at the cabin with five of his friends. Steph and I had tried to coordinate with Christian so that our stays would not overlap, and they weren’t supposed to, but then the day before we were going up Christian called me to say how excited he was that we would be up at the same time. I tried my best to remain jolly sounding on the phone. Not that I am anti-Christian, that time has passed. However, we were bringing six people and two dogs up there and it just didn’t seem like it would be as comfortable. I figured they had been up there for seven days already so….

It turned out ok. Christian’s roommate Rachel was a blast. She was pretty sick and tired of her group so new blood was welcome. She came out on the boat with us and Ryan taught her how to skip rocks. She saved the pair of goggles that Ryan dropped in the lake trying to do a Navy Seal type dive off the boat making her utterly awesome in our opinion. The first night there was a BBQ and plenty of ruckus campfire fun.

(The second cabin and our usual haunt, the fire pit)

Christian’s group was leaving the next day but not until midnight, which seemed strange to me, but whatever. They spent most of the day sitting around doing not much and not cleaning up all their mess and leaving us to handle most of it in our one remaining day at the cabin. For some reason that didn’t seem quite right but, whatever. Tony and Ryan went for a hike and I made them yesterday sandwiches for the road. They were gone for hours and I thought they may have died but eventually they wandered back. Ryan is an eagle scout and all.

I tried to put together an incredibly difficult puzzle because I thought it would make me seem smart. I shouldn’t have been so ambitious. It was a round puzzle with a painting of wolves on it. The entire thing was various shades of brown and a few shades of green for pine needles that were scattered throughout. Every piece looked the same. It was about half done by the time we had to leave the cabin. To my credit, Christian’s group had started an easy puzzle and left the identical sky pieces unfinished. Roxanne and I tackled that in no time.

(Getting started on the wolf puzzle)

Steph’s boyfriend, Aaron is a master at fire making. Without him we would have froze even more than we did. He had a great method of drying out logs on the side of the fire pit to add when they got just right. He tended that fire like it was his child. We also made excellent food the whole time we were there. In retrospect, it was a pretty great time after all. Not what we expected, but it worked out fine just the same.

BREAKFAST AT LYLE'S

After some wonderful sleeping I awoke to the most fabulous blueberry pancakes and scrambled tofu made by my wonderful Father. Awesome. We tooled around for a little while and then headed off to Liquor Lyle’s. There is no place like Lyle’s for early morning drinking. They have wonderful cheap two for one specials and honestly won’t make you just one drink. They also have great food and we got some broccoli tempura and guacamole for snacking.

After we had been at Lyle’s for a little while a man and a woman, whose names I can’t remember, came in. They loved Tony, Ryan, and I. Why they loved us I just don’t know but they really wanted to be friends. The woman was an ex Timberwolves cheerleader and she loved to clap loudly. What energy. We talked about Kevin Sorbo, Elvis, and anything else under the sun. As Tony and Ryan stepped outside for a smoke I chatted for a bit. They wanted to know who was single and I said that Ryan was. They mentioned that he had nice feet and that Tony seemed like a great guy to have. I agreed. They tried incredibly hard to get us to come to hidden beach with them. They made cheers and even got the bartender to talk to us and try to entice us to go. We were a little scared. I mean it’s nice to be befriended and all but they had just a little too much energy to be comfortable. They offered us beer and a great time but we were a little leery. Plus, we had to go to the Mall of America to get some mugs at Legoland. Our new “friends” thought that was an incredible lame idea, and it was. Yet, it wasn’t scary like the beach with a woman who has self professed man hands and her equally as overexcited friend.

The mall was brief. We got mugs, said fuck a lot in Legoland and then felt bad because of all the children, and looked around the former Camp Snoopy where the guys didn’t believe me that one of the rides got stuck for hours and people had to go to the hospital. They asked the cookie stand girl who confirmed it. Ha.

Then it was off to one of my favorite places in the city the hidden waterfall that Brooke and I “discovered” one day while walking in the woods around the Mississippi (see Tony and I below). We found a spot to sit, cracked open a cold one and communed with nature. We heard voices and were slightly scared that some lame people were going to come and ruin our tranquility. Ryan suggested that they were a preacher and an artist. We laughed. When they arrived we offered a beer and they accepted. It turns out that the artist was a comedian that travels around with the Renaissance Fair circuit and the Preacher was also a comedian but gets paid by people to rip on their friends. He conceded that in a way it was like speaking for a congregation. Nice going Ryan.
We then headed back to the house for an awesome BBQ mastered by my father. That guy sure can cook. Tony is still talking about the chicken he made. Cousin Molly and Aunt Naomi also stopped by and it was great to see them. To cap off the night we played a huge amount of God of War, a game I got my father for his birthday in January and he had not played for more than five minutes. We played for much longer. I guess all Dad needed was for someone to show him how it was done because by the time we got back from the cabin he had beat the game!

Vacation Day 2, done!

BACK IN THE REAL WORLD

Vacation was a great time. It did not go entirely as planned but it was truly awesome. Being back from vacation, however, sucks buttholes. There will probably be many posts detailing the stages of vacation but I got to start somewhere so I’ll start at the beginning, Minneapolis.

The drive to Minneapolis was rather uneventful. I got in the car and drove. I stopped as little as possible. We left later than I had wanted to and we had dinner reservations at The Dakota for my parent’s anniversary and my Uncles Birthday because they are on the same day. Note to anyone who knows me: If you get married on June 5th you are a dick and I am not your friend anymore. Thanks to Mommy changing the reservations we had a very delicious dinner. I got a drink that made me a little wack-a-do (champagne, pomegranate liqueur, and vodka) but then it wore off really fast and I was completely sober. The couple at the table next to us hated our party because we like to laugh and do not always have inside voices. Whatever, the man had a bright red suit jacket on and they were lame. Ryan, Tony, and I left the club and went bar hopping in the Uptown area. Actually, they hopped and I drove. I’m so awesome.

Bar 1. Rudolph’s
This place is real ok. It would be nice after work or something. It has a bit of a big cushy booth feel to it. Ryan and Tony were convinced they had ordered $8 beers because they were huge and full of Guinness. I reminded them that they ordered the special and we were in MN. They didn’t believe me until we got the check.

Bar 2. Mortimer’s
This place is real great. They have every single bar game imaginable and some. We were incredibly excited to play air hockey (Tony and Ryan were very excited about $8 pitchers) and got three games worth of quarters. Tony and Ryan played the first round and I was to play the loser. Then this group of ruckus looking individuals put some quarters down on the table claiming the next game. That was ok. While they were playing we put our quarters down. Somewhere during the game I think the quarters disappeared. That was to be expected though because one of the guys was playing like a madman. He was slamming the puck left and right. When they were done we were going to play but noticed he left the thing you hit the puck with quite bloody. Never mind.

Bar 3. Was supposed to be Liquor Lyle’s but ended up being the C.C Club
I was at this bar for my 21st birthday. It is still a great bar. The people are chill and a motley crew, but in a good way. It’s a place where bikers, emo kids, and hippies can hold pleasant conversations. We enjoyed ourselves. We would have liked to be at Lyle’s but I haven’t been in Minneapolis for a while and was on the wrong street. Oops. Never fear. Lyle’s stories will follow.

Bar 4. The Bulldog
This bar used to be one of my favorite restaurants in the Twin Cities, The Mud Pie. While I was growing up it was the only Vegetarian restaurant around. I could be wrong about that but it seemed like it. They had awesome enchiladas and a great Middle Eastern platter. It had the most wonderful smell. Sadly it is now a bar but at least it is a nice seeming bar. While there Ryan suggested to Tony that they take a biking/rafting trip. They would bike somewhere and then raft down the Mississippi for a while like Huck Finn. I thought this was hilarious. Tony knew it was slightly hilarious. Ryan thought it was totally doable. They did bike from Chicago to Milwaukee after all. I was talking about how horrible their trip sounded because it wouldn’t have bathrooms and showers and beds and this girl at the bar likes what I had to say. I think she liked Ryan too.

We then walked back to the car and I drove the scenic route home taking the boys around the lake where my friends and I used to drive and drink, but not at the same time. We would trade weekends and one person would drive around the lake and the others would drink from the huge gallon jug of amaretto. The boys laughed at how responsible that was as I relived the experience. Then we went home.

As we opened the bed it must have been caught on the plug for the table lamp because when we laid down there was a loud thunking sound and the light went out. The next morning I looked and it appeared the bed had somehow broken the outlet in half. I realize as I am typing this that I neglected to tell my parents this. Mom, Dad, this is why there is a broken outlet sitting on the bedside table in my old room. Sorry.

End day one.

Oh, no random songs because my iPod won't go to the menu and all I can listen to is Billy Idol. I have 9 Billy Idol songs. This thing better fix itself soon.

CATCH YOU ON THE FLIP SIDE

Everyone knows that I love TV. Most people know that I love reality TV. I do not apologize for these feelings. That is just how it is. My big three as far as reality shows go are Project Runway, Top Chef, and America’s Next Top Model. I watch plenty of others but those have been the only ones I can’t miss, until now.

Although it may surprise Monica, my new guilty pleasure is not Rock of Love, although I will certainly catch that if it happens to be on or watch it On Demand when I have nothing else to do. That is some funny stuff. No, my new love is none other than VH1’s The Pick-up Artist. I know, I know, the subject matter is disgusting. Why would someone like me who finds the club scene revolting and is all for the feminism (in the true sense) want to watch a show that teaches men how to pick up women? The answer is simple. Pure entertainment.

I hear the main guy, Mystery, is the fella they molded Tom Cruise’s character in Magnolia after. Apparently, his system for picking up women is foolproof and there are nerds all over the world following his plan and having crazy sex. From what I understand the system doesn’t lend itself well to establishing real relationships, which could be a problem. Then again, if you don’t want a relationship, who cares? The thing is, the guys on the show seem to want to meet someone special, or at least some of them seem to feel that way.

Sadly, my favorite trainee, Spoon, left last night on what was only the second episode. Masi Oka’s reject twin was a ray of light on that show. His crippling phobia of the female was absolutely endearing, and he seemed like a genuinely fun person. This is Spoon after his makeover. The other assorted freaks and geeks are more pathetic and I find it much harder to cheer for them. Joe D, who can only be described as the token rosy-cheeked-jolly-fun-tubby-guy-who-never-gets-laid (every frat has one) might be my new favorite. Spoon was so terrified about talking to girls in clubs that he decided to leave the show rather than subject himself to talking to more girls in stressful situations. I liked how he exited though. He said he had already seen a change in his confidence level and that he would be taking it slowly on his own time. The pressure of the show was just too much for him. I can respect that. I’m just sad because I wanted to see him turn into a playa!!!

I will be out of commission for a little while as Tony and I are about to GO ON VACATION!!!! Yeah!!!! We will be driving to Minneapolis tomorrow for a few days with the family and then heading up to a friends “cabin up north by the lake” (some people will know why that is funny) for a weekend of boating and general nothingness. Awesome. See you on the 27th (or maybe before if I feel like it).

Peace.

MANIC MONDAY- DROP

The Manic Monday word for today is Drop. Visit Mo to see other Manic Monday participants.

One of my old students was officially dropped from her new program today. It was a great opportunity, a paid training program in landscaping with internships with the city parks. She loved it. She came into what can only be called a series of unfortunate events which ultimately culminated in her termination. However, as she had been doing so well, her program director called a meeting of people in her network so we could see what her next steps would be. I went to the meeting, her counselor was there, we were supposed to conference in her case manager, but no student. She had officially dropped out. The meeting was short. Her chance to get back into the program was over.

When I was working with Wards of the State, I was constantly confronted with students who had been dropped from one thing or another. The biggest drop they experienced was that from their families. In some cases, families really tried to hold on to the students that ultimately ended up in front of me. In others, their families simply didn’t care. Either way, it set up a mentality in many of them that there was very little in life that they could control. They then were dropped from various educational institutions. Even though some of those drops were self-selected I think, in many cases, they could have been prevented by the use of better support networks. By the time I met them, they were jaded and distrustful of authority.

When we would schedule meetings to discuss their futures, goals, problems, etc., they would often fail to show up. Sometimes, when we would see changes in behavior the student would drop off the face of the earth before we could even schedule an intervention. While frustrating, I have come to see two things that I think contribute to the students dropping their obligations. The first is that if a student has a problem and a meeting is scheduled to fix that problem the student perceives that the adults will be making a decision as to their future for them. They don’t believe that they will have a true voice in the discussion. Therefore, they see the meeting as a waste of time and drop it. Secondly, dropping out of activities becomes a sort of self-assertion. They are finally in control of something that impacts their future and they want their decision to be heard. The sad thing is, not too many people are going to listen to a dropout, with obvious exceptions of course.

When I think of all the young men and women who are out there, who are not in school nor are they working I wonder what they are doing. What are their reasons and what is their motivation? Are they asserting their independence, albeit in a misguided and detrimental way or are they merely under the impression that their actions are inconsequential and therefore action itself is worthless? What can we do to fix this problem? How do we get them to drop back in?

The unguessed songs from last week are below.

2. And I tell you everything/ And hope that you won’t tell on me/ Not give you anything/ And know that you won’t tell on me. Softer, Softest. Hole

3. So here it is/ Fuck it/ Friends or no friends/ I’ve had enough bullshit to last me clear to the end. On The Down Low, Pharcyde