letters to a young me

where summer, cocktails, and john stamos arrive

2009-06-28T19:59:00.001-05:00

where dirty dancing is done david lynch-style

2009-05-20T13:41:00.002-05:00

the last david lynch movie i saw was blue velvet. i would watch this next if it were real.

where i show up on "eight forty-eight"

2009-05-19T11:21:00.002-05:00

My latest piece on "Eight Forty-Eight" aired today. Thanks much to Jon and Mark who helped me out with the preliminary tech stuff and, of course, Bob for letting me profile him.

where a dude with a water molecule painted on his face surprises me

2009-05-14T00:50:00.004-05:00

Jenny and I went to a show at Ball Hall the other day, biking down Kedzie and dodging a gazillion potholes along the way. Cute, hippy kids all living together; lots of pretty people I couldn't take my eyes off. Honestly, I thought it was going to be lame since music hasn't really been impressing me much, despite my renewed awe of life. That, and I needed to leave to work on a story. But this dude, Jordan O'Jordan, who strutted out in rolled up jeans, a plaid shirt, and a checkered vest, with banjo in hand and an H2O molecule painted on his face, Ziggy Stardust-style, made my night. Jenny bought a CD, which I burned to my mac since I couldn't buy one myself. Check him:

where bono unveils his elvis poem

2009-05-12T10:37:00.006-05:00

Oh god.

I'll admit it: I used to listen to U2 as a kid. I used to listen to their songs without disdain when I was 10. I remember watching the "Where the Streets Have No Name" video on MTV and seeing the mobs of people clamoring to see Bono sing on top of a building. Things change. I don't have cable; I can't stand U2; I'm 27. Instead, I listen to urban hits in friends' cars and music that isn't crap at home.

where kristina scavenges a pasta dish from her fridge

2009-05-09T09:55:00.006-05:00

Eggs can be kinda gross. At my favorite bar, The Whistler, just down the street from my cozy home, drinks with egg whites make appearances on the spring cocktail menu. I tried one once; I can't say I'll try one again (what I believed to be the egg smell completely overpowered what would otherwise have been a tasty drink).

Eggs aren't just for drinks and tasty eggs benedicts (recipe to come once I make it again and take a picture). When one doesn't want to make a red sauce or a white sauce for one's pasta, and when one is lazy and broke, an egg comes to the rescue. Add a bit of sun-dried tomatoes, arugula, gruyère cheese someone gave you, salt, pepper, and parsley, and you've got yourself a simple meal from stuff that was just sitting in your fridge.

Scavenged pasta of egg, gruyère, arugula, sun-dried tomato, and parsley

ingredients, serves one
Bucatini pasta, one serving, between the width of a quarter or a silver dollar depending on hunger level and type of pasta used
sun-dried tomatoes, packed in oil or rehydrated, however much you feel like adding (I love sun-dried tomatoes, so I put, like, 2.5 tablespoons, chopped up, in)
one egg
arugula, as much as you want
gruyère cheese, grated, maybe a bit less than a fourth of a cup
parsley, a gusto, if you need a measurement, a tablespoon chopped up
pepper as you like
salt

Boil water. Put some salt in it. Cook noodles. Note: you can use any pasta from your pantry, preferably noodles; bucatini pasta may seem fun to eat, but the hallow noodles are difficult to slurp into your mouth.

Meanwhile, scramble your egg, chop up your sun-dried tomatoes and parsley, and grate your cheese.

You'll have to work quickly when the noodles are done. Turn off heat, drain noodles, then return them to the pot. Stir in egg and half the cheese. (It sounds gross to stir in a raw egg, but the heat from the noodles cooks it and turns it into a semi-creamy sauce. When I lived in Barcelona, my Italian friend Stefano made a dish similar to this, sans gruyère and sun-dried tomatoes.) Grind as much pepper as you want over the pasta (the more the better, just not too much so that it's all you can taste). Add sun-dried tomatoes, arugula, and parsley. Top with the rest of the cheese. Eat. (You may find you need to put salt in; I don't like using a lot of salt in my recipes.)

where kristina, a dog person, finds she wouldn't mind having a cat

2009-04-29T14:11:00.002-05:00

I've never owned a pet, and at this point in my life, I think I'm too selfish to be the guardian of one. It's like having a child, but less demanding I suppose. Still, the YouTube video above made me want a little companion at home. The box sliding at around 4:30 is too cute.

where youtube comes through again

2009-04-28T19:04:00.000-05:00

where i watch animals kill and mate and try to survive on the screen

2009-04-27T08:29:00.004-05:00

It cost $10.75 to see "Earth" at the movies. As a kid, in Hawaii, it only cost $5 to go to the theatre. This makes me feel old. Following the movie, I think that maybe I will be a vegetarian again, but recalling how I was tired all the time as a vegetarian, I decide I'll commit to trying to eat free range, 'humanely' treated animals.

According to an article in the New Yorker, Isabella Rossellini wanted to be a veterinarian when she was a kid. Now, she makes educational YouTube videos like this:

where i almost get hit on my bike

2009-04-22T16:46:00.002-05:00

So I am biking to mark's apartment a few blocks from my house on a chilly but nice night in Chicago. I am nearly there and stopped at a light behind two cars. The first is trying to make a left, waiting for his/her turn to go, the second is stuck behind it. Impatient, the second jets right, where I am, and she nearly hits me. I am reminded of why I was terrified to ride my bike in Chicago a year ago, and also reminded why I need to get health insurance. But, I remain steadfast in my right to be on the road just as much as drivers, especially when I'm on my sweet, newly overhauled ride. (Photo to come soon.)

where david lynch directs an animated video for moby

2009-04-18T16:11:00.000-05:00

Shot In The Back Of The Head from Moby on Vimeo.

where the best chocolate chip cookies make an appearance

2009-04-17T17:33:00.003-05:00

The only cookies I remember eating as a kid are Chips Ahoy, animal crackers, and those really bad ones that come in the blue, round tin. As an adult, I rarely eat store-bought cookies and instead opt for homemade ones. These are my favorite. I make them with either walnuts or macadamia nuts (I once had an abundance of macadamias, having brought them back from a trip home). The cookies are chewy when you first bake them, then get crispy after a few days. That is how I like them. I suspect you will like them too.

Nutty Chocolate Chip Cookies

(from 101 cookbooks, which got it from David Lebovitz)

ingredients
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, cold, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups semisweet chocolate chips
1 cup walnuts, macadamia nuts, or pecans, toasted and chopped

Adjust the oven rack to the top 1/3 of the oven and preheat to 300F. Line three baking sheets with parchment paper.

Beat the sugars and butters together until smooth. Mix in the egg, vanilla, and baking soda. Stir together the flour and salt, then mix them into the batter. Mix in the chocolate chips and nuts. (I do this all in my handy KitchenAid.)

Scoop the cookie dough into 2-tablespoon balls and place 8 balls, spaced 4 inches apart, on each of the baking sheets. (I just scoop them into the size I want them to be.)

Bake for 18 minutes, or until pale golden brown. Remove from the oven and cool on a wire rack.

Store at room temperature in an airtight container for up to 3 days.

Makes about 20 cookies.

where the hits of today fill my ears

2009-04-14T18:05:00.006-05:00

I am babysitting Claire's car while she's in Mexico. I don't drive much and have never owned a car, so I don't often get the opportunity to catch up on the hits of today. But these past few days, I've boned up on my Power 92 and B96.

Surprisingly, I've heard this song four times in as many days. I've known almost every single word since I was in the ninth grade, which doesn't mean I agree with the representation of women in the song.

I first encountered Lady GaGa while watching The View a few weeks ago. She was dressed like a Jetson. She usually doesn't wear any pants. I don't quite understand the appeal, though I will admit that I would dance hard to this song at a dance party.

This is the second appearance of this song on my blog. Scene: driving up Western, B96 playing, Lady GaGa, Usher. Imagine my surprise -- and glee -- at finding this video on YouTube.

There's absolutely no attempt at live singing. As an aside, I interviewed one of the dudes who worked on this summer jam last year for the RedEye.

I've also been hearing a song about hustling almost every time I get in the car. I can't figure out who it is. Akon maybe? Give me a few more drives...

where urban family members celebrate the resurrection of christ by eating really good potatoes

2009-04-13T23:19:00.012-05:00

Noyns and I don't celebrate Easter in any religious way. We both didn't really know Easter was approaching until we realized a lot of people were going out of town. But the Easter holiday is a chance to cook a yummy dinner, so we celebrate in our own way. The morning of, we decide to invite urban family members over to my place for a dinner of ham (which is surprisingly expensive and a little hard to find on the actual Easter holiday), potatoes (Noyns' family recipe), deviled eggs (I've never had them but Noyns said he had a hankering), salad (made by Lindsay and Nick), cinnamon rolls (made by Jenny), and, of course, wine.

The dinner is all I expect it to be -- warm with friendship and exploding with love. The potatoes are the particular stars of the night and, thanks to Noyns, the recipe follows. In lieu of food pictures (unfortunate since the dinner was totes fabulous but I forgot), here are pictures of urban family members who could attend on such short notice.

I hate using flash and I don't own a SLR, hence the blurry photo.

There always comes a point in the night when people look up music videos.
Thankfully, Easter video watching lasts a mere 10 minutes.

Nick is wearing a blazer that once belonged to Jenny's grandma.

Roasted new potatoes and herbs

ingredients

4 tablespoons melted butter (veganize by using Earth Balance)

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground pepper
minced fresh basil, about a tablespoon or so (if not fresh, use 1 - 2 teaspoons of dried)
minced fresh oregano, about a tablespoon or so (if not fresh, use 1 - 2 teaspoons of dried)
1/4 teaspoon paprika
1 large garlic clove, minced
3 tablespoons freshly Romano cheese (veganize by omitting, duh)
about 10 - 12 red skinned potatoes, cut in 1/2 or 1/4 (best to use small ones cut in 1/2)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In a shallow baking pan (like the big ones you would bake brownies in), combine butter, oil, salt, pepper, basil, oregano, paprika, garlic, and cheese. Mix well and spread out all over the pan. Place potatoes cut side down in pan. Brush tops with a little olive oil.

Bake uncovered for at least an hour. Don't turn over at all. By the end, they'll be crispy and amazing.

cta: "have a good day"

2009-04-10T16:47:00.003-05:00

On my way home from the Loop today, on the Blue Line near the Damen stop, a CTA conductor went on the PA system to announce the weather (49 degrees and cloudy, though it was clearly sunny outside) and to wish us a good day. Once, when I was on the Brown Line, a conductor told passengers that he knew we all couldn't wait to get home to drink a glass of wine. It was cute.

Last year, it took me three hours to get to work after a train broke down under the Chicago River and passengers decided to get out and walk along the tracks.

My former colleague is in the beginning of this video, which is otherwise boring.

snow day activities

2009-04-05T23:22:00.010-05:00

it's snowing in april in chicago; it's all slushy and dirty outside.

i'm overhauling my '70s schwinn cruiser, which i bought at working bikes more than five years ago, with my friend neuner in anticipation of the springtime and sunshine that's sure to come. i don't know too much about bikes, but neuner is a bike afficianado, so as we go about our business, i'm learning the names and functions of parts. we spent four hours yesterday cleaning the chain ring, deraulleur, etc. so satisfying, yet there's so much more to do.

i felt like i was a seventh grader again tonight, back to a time when i played super mario world 3 on nintendo. i spent two hours at a friend's house smashing koopas and collecting coins. the mind is mysterious: you can recall video game secrets and strategy even after all these years. i don't think video games are all that bad. they keep you on your toes, force you to think quickly. when you've got a koopa coming at you and a ghost closing in and the roof is coming down and there's some fireball heading straight for you, what do you do? what do you do? why do they even bother making games aside from mario kart and super mario?

here some dude/tte finishes super mario 3 in 11 minutes. i watched this entire video. there are some things in this world that are just plain amazing.

love in this club and "white people" problems

2009-04-03T16:25:00.005-05:00

claire is right. this is the best of the robotic rock-afire videos.

race and class conflation.

mark bittman is a smarty party

2009-03-31T19:03:00.007-05:00

i like mark bittman. he's funny and smart and likes to cook simple and tasty food. i often check his blog; i've watched his multiple pbs shows; i have both of his how to cook everything books; and, late last night, i caught him on "spain: on the road again" (gweneth paltrow, awfully and inexplicably, is a part of that show). if i grew up to have half the career and smarts of mark bittman, i would be a happy lady.

here, he talks about agribusiness, localvores, the history of food, and the environment. (it's full of stats too, e.g. i didn't know we kill 10 billion animals a year in the united states for food.)

years ago, i was a vegan, then i was a vegetarian, and now i'm an omnivore. i try to eat well. some people might say i'm fussy. but i know what i like, and i like things that are tasty. it makes me happy. last year, i had the best meal of my entire life at a bar on the side of the road in the canary islands -- dishes of grilled pork, squid, beef, and vegetables with no sauce or frills (a little lemon, salt, and pepper and that was it). i'm salivating just thinking about it now.

i long for the fresh, simple produce and meat of europe, cheap food that didn't travel miles to get to the market. back in the states, even though i don't have a lot of money, i still put high value on quality ingredients. i'm a goodie foodie who tries to eat smart, well, and with joy. more on this later, but i wanted to post the 20-minute talk bittman gave at ted a few years ago.

carl's jr. food porn

2009-03-30T16:31:00.007-05:00

when i had cable and watched tv a lot, i was a fan of top chef. ex-mrs. salman rushdie aka model padma lakshmi hosts the show. she's quite pretty and has these intriguing scars on her bicep (from a childhood car accident). here, she's hawking carl's jr./hardee's burgers in a totally sexed-up commercial. i've never been to a carl's jr./hardee's (we don't have them in hawaii, and, as far as i know, we don't have them in chicago either.) i like bacon as much as padma seemingly does, but i don't think i can ever eat a burger in any way close to the way she's noshing on one here.

super duper easy and good lentil soup

2009-03-26T11:29:00.005-05:00

winter in chicago is hard. (duh.) rarely is the snow white and pristine; rarely is the sun out to provide any sort of warmth and happiness; rarely can one leave the house without a sweater, long underwear, wool socks, and a puffy jacket. most of the time, it's sludge and grey and blisteringly cold. luckily, spring is here! but that doesn't mean that soup season needs to end.

i first made this super easy lentil soup a few weeks ago for our weekly lost viewings. i was looking for something cheap to make from things in my pantry when i stumbled on this recipe from a random web site. the soup was loved by all. people have asked me for the recipe. i now share it with you.

red lentil soup

ingredients
2 1/2 cups dried split red lentils
10 cups cold water
2 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 to 2 teaspoons minced garlic, to taste
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 tablespoon ground coriander
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons unbleached all-purpose flour dissolved in 3 tablespoons cold water
Lemon wedges (1 to 2 per person)
Croutons
Green onions

Submerge and rinse the lentils in a medium-size bowl filled with cold water. Pick out small rocks and skim off any dirt or old shells that float to the surface. Drain.

Put the drained lentils in a 5-quart saucepan or kettle, add the water, and bring to a boil. (I take off some of the scummy foam that rises. This sounds gross, but that tends to happen with these kinds of lentils.) Reduce the heat to medium-low, partially cover, and simmer for 45 minutes to 1 hour, stirring occasionally. (The lentils turn yellow, btw.) Add the salt and mix well. Continue to simmer until the soup becomes fairly thick, like pea soup, an additional 10 to 15 minutes.

In a small bowl, combine the garlic, cumin, and coriander. (I sometimes play with the spice measurements depending how I feel.) Heat the oil in a small skillet over medium heat and add the garlic mixture. Brown the mixture until the garlic and oil turn into a yellow sauce, about 30 seconds (make sure not to cook the garlic over high heat; it burns easily). Remove from the heat and set aside.

Add the dissolved flour and spice mixture to the soup. Simmer, partially covered, for 10 minutes. (You can freeze the soup for up to 1 month at this point or refrigerated for 2 to 3 days. When reheating, add water, as the soup thickens upon cooling.)

Taste the soup for salt. Serve hot accompanied by lemon wedges, croutons, and sliced green onions.

so many lemons

2009-03-23T08:07:00.006-05:00

my friends volcano! have a new single and video out: so many lemons.

volcano! - So Many Lemons from ppohio on Vimeo.

filming took a day; a nonopus; a breakaway wine bottle; fake flirting in the office, at da club, and in the streets; and lots of fog. they are touring all over europe again this april. if you're there, go see them!

shortbread crust + lemons = delicious

2009-03-10T12:29:00.006-05:00

Lemons are great. Just a little bit of juice adds a lot to a dish, adding structure and a backbone by bringing out the flavors. I bought a bunch of lemons about two weeks ago for a lentil soup I made for my weekly Lost viewing with friends (I'll post that recipe soon). I really only needed one lemon, but they came in a whole bag at a reasonable price--a great excuse to make lemon bars! Note that you should probably make this for a group of people--I love them but found it hard to eat a whole tray of lemon bars by myself.

Shortbread crust lemon bars

Shortbread crust
(adapted from Joy of Cooking)

ingredients
1/2 cup (1 stick) (113 grams) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/4 cup (25 grams) powdered sugar
1 cup (140 grams) all-purpose flour
1/8 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (177 degrees C) and place rack in center of oven. Grease with butter (or use a cooking spray) a 8 x 8 inch (20 x 28 cm) pan.

Cream the butter and sugar in an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add the flour and salt and beat until the dough just comes together (mine was a bit crumbly). Press the dough into the bottom of your greased pan and bake for about 20 minutes, or until lightly browned. Remove from oven and place on a wire rack to cool while you make the filling, which will also be baked at 350 degrees.

Lemon bar filling
(from Smitten Kitchen, who adapted it from The Barefoot Contessa)

ingredients
4 extra-large eggs at room temperature
1 2/3 cups granulated sugar
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon grated lemon zest (3 to 4 lemons)
2/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
2/3 cup flour

Whisk together the eggs, sugar, lemon zest, lemon juice, and flour. Pour over the crust and bake for about 30 to 35 minutes, or about five minutes beyond the point where the filling is set. Let cool to room temperature. Dust with powdered sugar if you like.

spraypainted like new

2009-03-05T15:52:00.005-06:00

When I moved into my one-bedroom apartment, after my six-month trip to Europe, I was lacking in the furniture department. I basically sold all of my belongings before getting on the plane to Barcelona. Luckily, my friend Neuner gave me a few items he owned, thanks to our friends Janie and Ed who moved to Switzerland. See this chair:

It was a bit rundown with holes and stains on the vinyl, but it had a good, sturdy frame. So I bought a can of spray paint (you can't buy spraypaint in Chicago, so I had to haul my butt all the way to Niles) and decided to make a quick DIY project out of it, i.e. I just spraypainted the cushions. Here's the finished project:

It's not perfect, but better.

homemade parmesan, sesame, and pepper crackers

2009-03-04T10:55:00.005-06:00

why would you make homemade crackers? because you're bored and cooking something from scratch is so much better than buying something pre-made. that, and you can put whatever you want in the crackers. for me, it was parmasan, sesame seeds, and pepper. i used this super simple recipe from bitten.

homemade crackers
(from bitten)

ingredients
1 cup all-purpose flour, more as needed
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup finely grated fresh Parmesan cheese
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup cream or half-and-half, more as needed (i used half-and-half)
Coarse salt, pepper, sesame or poppy seeds, minced garlic or whatever you like for sprinkling (optional)

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or lightly dust with flour. Put flour, salt, cheese and butter in bowl of a food processor. Pulse until flour and butter are combined. Add about 1/4 cup cream or half-and-half and let machine run for a bit; continue to add liquid a teaspoon at a time, until mixture holds together but is not sticky.

Roll out dough on a lightly floured surface until 1/2-inch thick or even thinner, adding flour as needed. (ed: I had a really hard time rolling it out really thin because, although my apartment is great in many ways, I have basically no kitchen counter space. It was definitely thinner than 1/2-inch though -- I was aiming for super thin, crispy crackers.) Transfer sheet of dough to prepared baking sheet (drape it over rolling pin to make it easier). Score lightly with a sharp knife, pizza cutter or a pastry wheel if you want to break crackers into squares or rectangles later on. (ed: I 'lightly scored' it and it didn't quite work. This could be because I didn't roll it out super, super thin or because I didn't score it hard enough.) Sprinkle with salt or other topping if you like. (ed: I grated more parmasan on top, along with sesame seeds and pepper. Add as much as you like!)

Bake until lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Cool on a rack; serve warm or at room temperature or store in a tin for a few days.

happy square root day

2009-03-03T10:24:00.001-06:00

a holiday that occurs when the day and the month are the square root of the year: 3.3.09

i like to dance

2009-03-02T18:54:00.001-06:00

and i want to dance like this dude.

BOOMBOX from Ely Kim on Vimeo.

on chicago public radio

2009-02-25T12:17:00.003-06:00

my latest 'commentary' piece for chicago public radio ran this morning. i wrote it -- about my dad, his journey to the us and back to the philippines, and his patriotism -- last year, before i left for europe.

go bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s

2009-02-23T11:21:00.009-06:00

(read that hedder to the tune of gwen stefani's 'bananas' song)

every week, my friend jenny cooks for food not bombs, a national movement where people make meals to serve to the community using donated food from grocery stores. anyone can go to eat the tasty food they make and/or pick up food for their home. the branch jenny goes to usually serves at humboldt park every saturday, but this winter, they're serving indoors at the rumble arts center a few blocks down on north avenue.

two thursdays ago, i went with jenny to frequent-donor whole foods to pick up bread, fruit, and vegetables. while i was there, i took some overripe bananas. fortuitously, chefyumyum has a banana bread recipe i've wanted to try. i didn't have all the ingredients she has in her recipe, so, once again, i used what i had in my kitchen. the banana bread turned out awesomely -- just the right amount of cloves. personally, i could have used just a touch more tea and, if i had more, more walnuts.

black tea banana bread
(adapted from chefyumyum)

(only half the loaf i made is pictured above. my friends and i ate most of the bread in the few days before i got around to taking the picture for this recipe.)

ingredients
1/4 cup sour cream (i used tofutti sour cream)
1 tsp. baking soda
1 stick of butter at room temperature
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
3 very ripe bananas, mashed
2 cups all-purpose flour (chefyumyum says unbleached flour)
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 tbs. black tea leaves, gently crushed
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 tsp. ground cardamom
1 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. ground allspice
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
a dash of ground nutmeg (chefyumyum likes freshly ground nutmeg. i only have nutmeg from a jar.)
1/2 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup chopped walnuts (my friend amy, who's moving to nyc, gave me a jar of walnuts soaked in lemon honey so i took some of those and chopped them up. chefyumyum uses 3/4 cup of slivered almonds)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9x5 loaf pan. Combine the sour cream and baking soda in a small bowl and set aside. In an electric mixer, cream together the butter and sugar. Mix in eggs, bananas, and sour cream mixture. Sift in flour and baking powder, add tea and spices, and stir until well combined. Fold in walnuts.

Spoon batter into the prepared pan, and bake until set in the center, about an hour. Cool for at least 10 minutes.

hello great northern beans, let's make a salad

2009-02-19T19:23:00.011-06:00

because i have time between freelancing gigs, i decided to reorganize my pantry because it was getting a little out of control. so i started putting things into plastic containers, like the tall ones you get when you order curry or soup from a thai restaurant (not that i do that anymore because, like i've repeatedly said, i'm broke and it's cheaper to cook at home). i like to keep these containers around because they're handy for storage and for giving people leftovers (i don't like parting with the nice tupperware my aunt gave me back when she sold tupperware because i feel like i'll never see them again. in fact, i'm on my second set of tupperware because the entirety of my first set disappeared into thin air). so, to get back to it, i was putting my beans, sugar, pearl couscous, polenta -- all these different things -- into various containers and, lo and behold, the dried great northern beans that i had wouldn't fit into the carry-out thai container i chose for it. so, i decided to hydrate the errant ones and figure something out to make. after scanning my groceries in my fridge, i came up with this -- an easy recipe i think would make a great snack or side dish.

great northern bean salad

ingredients
1 cup dried great northern beans
olives
sundried tomatoes
green onions
salt
pepper
olive oil

re-hydrate the beans by covering them with a good amount of water. this takes hours, like six or seven of them (you can also do this overnight). then boil the beans until they're cooked. this takes less time, like 20 minutes. chew on one to see if they're the right texture for you. i think dried beans are so much better than canned beans, unless you're making, like, pinto beans, mexico-style when you smashed them up anyway. slice up however many olives you want (if i had cured olives, i would totally use those, but all i had were regular, black olives). cut up some sundried tomatoes. i would say half a cup each, if you really need measurements -- but i'm all about adding however much of whatever you want in dishes like this. slice some green onions (i love green onions, so i would say half a cup of this as well). add one or two glugs of olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

i toasted some bread that i froze and had sitting in the freezer and drizzled a little balsamic vinegar on it. tasty.

an ego like an eggshell

2009-02-19T19:00:00.001-06:00

like those eggs i broke a few days ago (which i used to make molten chocolate mini-cakes), i've been feeling a bit fragile, a little insecure in my writing skill. lately, i've been feeling like i totally suck. most people feel like this at some point, i think, but that doesn't make me feel any better about my total crisis in confidence.

i was in self-pity mode driving home from the y the other day (yes, i worked out at the y. it was great, if not surprising. i want to get in shape), when tim reminded me that everyone needs an editor, that even the best writers in the world need editors, which, i suppose, is right (talk about a run-on sentence right there). i bet even gay talese needed an editor, and i completely admire his work.

i don't know if there's a writer who actually enjoys the act of writing: the struggle to find the right words, to shape a sentence into some poetic fashion so that it sounds better than what you're actually thinking. i fear that i'm cliche, that my thoughts, words, sentences, and ideas are unoriginal, derivative, incoherent, or just plain stupid. i'm afraid that i don't know how to write anymore, that i'm not as good as i was a few years ago, that i've gotten lazy, that i don't read enough, that what i write doesn't make sense anymore. these are not fears i want to have. but apparently they're fears that i'll share on this blog.

gooey mini-chocolate cakes

2009-02-13T12:53:00.010-06:00

i broke a few eggs last week while i was putting them away in the fridge. i dropped the entire container, and it landed upside-down on the bottom shelf. i was like, "what am i supposed to do? i don't want to waste eggs. i'm too broke to waste anything." so i searched the internet looking for something sweet i could make. of course, i landed at one of my go-to blogs, mark bittman's bitten, and found this recipe for molten chocolate cake. it's basically undercooked brownie batter baked in ramekins. this was perfect -- and fortuitous -- because i've been waiting to use the new ramekins i bought at goodwill two years ago. i ended up halving the published recipe because i've only got two ramekins in my pantry.

gooey mini-chocolate cakes

ingredients
1/4 cup unsalted butter, plus more to butter the molds
2 ounces bittersweet chocolate (i have no idea how much 2 ounces is, so i used 3/4 of a cup of the semi-sweet chocolate chips i had in stock)
1 egg
1 egg yolk
1/8 cup sugar
1 teaspoon flour, plus more for dusting

Melt the butter and chocolate in a double boiler (I put a metal bowl over a pot of boiling water). Beat together the egg, yolk, and sugar with a whisk or electric beater until light and thick. Beat together the melted chocolate and butter. Pour in the egg mixture, then quickly beat in the flour, just until combined.

Butter and lightly flour two ramekins. Tap out the excess flour and divide the batter among the molds. (At this point you can refrigerate the desserts until you are ready to eat, for up to several hours; bring them back to room temperature before baking.) Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Bake the molds on a tray for 6 to 7 minutes*; the center will still be quite soft, but the sides will be set.

Invert each mold onto a plate and let sit for about 10 seconds. Unmold by lifting up one corner of the mold; the cake will fall out onto the plate. Serve immediately.

*I had to leave them in the oven for about 10 minutes -- a few more than the recipe called for.

beet generation

2009-02-05T15:15:00.007-06:00

i've never been a fan of beets, despite what i've heard about how nutritious they are. my father used to eat beets whenever we went to a buffet. they were obviously from a can, always watery, bloody-looking, and unappetizing. but things changed last year at a country house near the pyrenees. for dinner one night, we were served a salad of beets and sunflower seeds. they were the most amazing beets i'd ever eaten, like, in my entire life. i couldn't stop talking about them. it was nothing but beet talk for 10 minutes. so, when i came back to chicago, i had beets at lula cafe. if any restaurant in chicago could do beets right, surely it would have to be lula, one of my fave restaurants, right? but these beets did not compare to the pyranees beets. lula beets had too much olive oil on them, and i think they were a little pickled. still, i'm not giving up on my beet odyssey. today i made beet chips out of a beet that was on sale at stanley's and on the verge in my fridge.

baked beet chips

ingredients
one beet
olive oil
salt
pepper

heat the oven at 400 degrees. trim and peel the beet. slice them into chip-sized pieces (i wouldn't go to thick or too thin here. too thick, and they'll be soft. too thin, and they'll be super crispy. i sliced mine on my mandolin at the medium setting, and i think that was a little bit too thick). toss the beets in a glug or two or olive oil with a few pinches of both salt and pepper. lay them in a single layer on parchment paper on a baking sheet. cook for 12 minutes. then, take them out, turn them over, and cook for another 10 minutes. this is when i turned the oven off, did a little work for 10 minutes, and then took the beets out.

i'm eating them right now. they're pretty good. roasted beets are supposed to be tasty with goat cheese. but goat cheese is expensive, so i might use them as a vehicle to eat some greek yogurt i have in the fridge. use what you can!

baby's got a brand new oven

2009-02-03T15:45:00.011-06:00

more often than not, landlords are rich people who want to take advantage of you and take your money. my landlords are far better than most.

let me recount the ways:

when i moved into my apartment, they asked me what colors i wanted to paint my walls. i went to home depot, picked four different colors, and emailed them the codes. they went out, bought them, and painted my entire apartment.
my one-bedroom is in a great location in logan square and doesn't cost me as much as it should given the market.
when i moved in, i had to scrub down the apartment, which sucked. but because of the hassle, they gave me a month's rent for free.
when i asked if i could have a housewarming party (they live right above me), one of my landlords said, "thanks for giving us a warning, but you don't have to tell us when you want to throw a party. it's your home."
when a smell started emanating from my oven, they simply bought me a new one. here are before and after pictures:

before

after

in the before picture, i'm cooking veggie dumplings i bought from chicago food corp (on kimball, a block north of belmont). they were $2.39 for a bag of 40 or so. looking for a deal on a hearty snack food? buy them.

unemployment food #3: ramen with extras

2009-01-31T09:46:00.007-06:00

there are times when you revert to your younger self. for me, i've been eating some saimin made hawaii-style, which basically is ramen, mixed with an egg, and whatever else you want. it's better than plain ramen you most likely ate if you went to university.

ramen with extras

ingredients
one packet of ramen
one egg
scallions (per your taste)
tofu (couple small cubes if you have some leftover from a dinner you cooked)

cook the ramen per the instructions. when it's almost done, crack an egg into the pot and scramble it into the ramen. you'll notice that the ramen will get a bit frothy. that's ok, just make sure the egg cooks. add tofu if you want. serve in a bowl and top with scallions.

you can also add different types of greens and veggies if you like. spinach works well too! you'll probably find that you have to add more water when adding more vegetables if you like your saimin soupy.

sasha fierce

2009-01-26T11:41:00.007-06:00

i've never thought beyonce was super hot, though i've always conceded that she has an awesome body. and i've never been hot on this song, but after discovering the video and rewatching it a multitude of times at an impromptu you tube dance party last night, i've changed my mind: sasha fierce is hot and in full force. girl is looking good and has some ridiculous dance moves.

the lip synching is pretty awful, but damn.

living on a budget is hard...

2009-01-25T17:02:00.006-06:00

for a number of reasons. if only i had money for pistachios and raspberries.

unemployment food #2: garam masala chickpea snackie snacks

2009-01-20T18:41:00.010-06:00

so what do you do with the rest of the can of chickpeas that you didn't use for the fettuccine with chickpea, parsley, garlic, and butter? well, even broke people need to snack.

garam masala chickpea snackie snacks

ingredients

the rest of the 15-oz. can of chickpeas (or 8 oz.)
a pinch of salt
a small glug of olive oil
1/4 teaspoon garam masala
(you can double or triple this recipe if you want)

heat your oven or toaster oven to 300 degrees. toss all the ingredients in a bowl. arrange in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet. cook for about 50 minutes or until the chickpeas are crispy. you can store them in a small tupperware until they get gross and soft (maybe 5 days).

unemployment food #1: fettuccine with parsley, garlic, chickpeas, and butter

2009-01-19T12:04:00.009-06:00

i chose the most unfortunate time to quit my job and spend my savings. six months later, i'm back in chicago, fitter, happier, and more productive, but broke. more broke than i've ever been before. hence, i'll be posting "recipes" of cheap food while i'm unemployed. installment numero uno:

Fettuccine with parsley, garlic, chickpeas, and butter

ingredients
fettuccine
a few tablespoons of butter (butter is expensive, so i use butter and some olive oil)
minced garlic (per your taste. i love garlic so i use a ton, like 5 cloves. obviously, some people will see this as garlic overload.)
parsley, maybe half a cup or three-fourths (or however much you want)
a pinch of chili flakes (or however much you want)
half a 15-oz can of chickpeas, drained and chopped

cook fettuccine per package instructions. when it's done, save a bit of the pasta water, like half a cup.

melt a few tablespoons of butter in a pan. if you don't have a ton of butter, i would add some oil too to make sure you have enough sauce. add a pinch of chili flakes and fry for a few seconds to release the heat and flavor of the flakes. add the chopped chickpeas and fry until a little golden. add the minced garlic but be careful not to brown the garlic or it'll turn all bitter. when the fettuccine's done, put it in the same pan as the sauce. if you don't have enough sauce, put some of the pasta water in there. add some salt and pepper. put the pasta in a bowl. chop up the parsley, put that in the bowl, and toss.

enjoy with a glass of white wine that the guy you're dating brought over.

the ultimate suburban conveniences

2009-01-02T10:07:00.003-06:00

christmas break in the northern suburbs of chicago can open your eyes to new things.

the merry-go-round bagging station at walmart -- the ultimate american shopping location -- makes bagging the ton of stuff you bought so much easier and efficient.

you don't even have to get out of your car to get a tall chai tea latte with skim milk at starbucks.

memories of ed and janie

2008-12-27T07:58:00.007-06:00

last year, my friends ed and janie got married and moved to switzerland. this week, they came back to chicago for a few days to say hello.

a mexican breakfast at cafe con leche is an appropriate chicago welcome.

a wedding gift of bare chests and euro beats from phred, nick, and josh.

groupon it

2008-12-24T10:40:00.005-06:00

groupon is a site that offers daily deals for people in Chicago if enough people sign up for said daily deal. the other day, i got a $50 gift certificate at a liquor store for $35. awesome. it's an offshoot of the point, which another friend of mine started as a way for collective action.

through thursday, you can donate to the greater chicago food depository through groupon. but they only take your money if they reach more than $500.

where we act with childlike joy

2008-12-23T09:21:00.006-06:00

Despite freezing temperatures, a parking lot of pristine snow is no match against fun!

We came, we saw, we conquered and claimed victory.

snow angel dust.

look at those eyes!

2008-12-22T10:02:00.002-06:00

the first observations on chicago winter '08

2008-12-15T21:04:00.005-06:00

postmen carry blowtorches. they use these torches to melt the ice that seal the blue post office boxes on the street.

no matter how icy it is outside, people will still run when they see the bus, risking injuring themselves so as not to wait in the bitter, bitter cold.

layering is always good, but your legs are never as warm as the rest of your body.

if one can help it, don't move in the winter. if that can't be helped, one should be careful where one parks the rented uhaul -- stay away from ice and narrow alleys because it's a nightmare getting the uhaul out.

i don't watch as much tv as i did before i left for europe, but the other day i turned it on and flipped through channels. nothing was on, but i did see this common and cee lo performance on ellen. it seemed like the audience -- the majority of whom were white, dancing women -- really liked it. i especially like it when common and ellen break out some carlton moves from fresh prince of bel-air.

where the familiar ice and snow welcome me home

2008-12-02T07:25:00.010-06:00

a thanksgiving feast to envy!

i'm back in the chi and it's so familiar, it's a little uncomfortable. landing at o'hare, i saw a blanket of white covering rooftops and streets and i remembered what winter is chicago is like. i was unprepared in my chucks to walk from the el to jenny's house. and i almost kissed the ground a few times, with my heavy northface backpack on the front and much heavier backpacker's backpack on back. the image of ralphie's younger brother from chistmas story pops into my mind and i imagine myself as an upside down turtle on avers -- the street jenny lives on -- unable to get up. will i bring the past five months -- the experiences, the changes -- back with me? starting anew is uncertain and scary but i'm excited for the months to come. all the concrete things feel the same -- the el, the weather, the people trudging through the streets -- but everything intangible is different. these days, i think so much about life that i forget the days of my childhood, looking at the trees and the sky and running through the streets. the big snowflakes and crunching snow last night were awesome.

pumpkin pie can be made in paris when you find expensive pumpkin puree at an ex-pat store.

the last few days in paris were fairly low-key. much like the entire month claire and i spent there. we brought thanksgiving to the french in the form of a green bean-seitan-mushroom casserole, stuffing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and mashed potatoes. not as labor intensive as the dinner i cooked last year for 10 or so people, but it was just as good. it was the first time i celebrated an american holiday in a foreign country.

and now, i must find a job.

hmmmm... bomb-o

2008-11-27T05:30:00.003-06:00

Paris, day 25

evening: i'm always amazed at musicians who are only semi-successful in the indie music world but are able to sustain themselves on their artistry alone. such is the case with wildbirds & peacedrums, a married couple from sweden, home of h&m and ikea. claire, aaron, and i go to see them at the swedish cultural center here in paris. because they are labelmates of volcano!, we talk with the band after the show. we learn many things, and among them, when bantering with the audience, one should not make jokes about stereotypes you hold about said audience. for example, when in france, don't say that people here really do like their baguettes, because, though true, that joke will fall flat. aaron chimes in, saying that he needs to resist telling a sherriff of nottingham joke whenever volcano! plays nottingham. when playing in chicago, people should not make jokes about al capone.

where i see millions of bones

2008-11-25T16:02:00.006-06:00

Paris, day 24

morning: in the late 1700s, the cemeteries in paris were so overcrowded, with millions of bodies stacked on each other underground, that disease started to spread and public health was endangered. in 1785, the government took drastic action and exhumed all the bodies and put them in the tunnel system under the city. now, it's a tourist attraction.

we must muster the courage to travel underground and see bones!

claire, aaron, and i stand in line to descend more than 60 feet underground, past the sewer system and the metro tunnels, and down into the quarries, now called the catacombs. it's here that millions of bones are stacked on top of each other, up to the six-foot ceilings in a winding labyrinth. it's weird, uncomfortable, creepy, unnatural, and really interesting. the first time i saw a real bone was in a museum in rome this past october, and now millions are all around me.
we spend an hour down there, looking at femurs on top of femurs, skulls and bones in decorative scenes, fissures in skulls. it's crazy. after a while, it isn't shocking. it's amazing how you can get habituated to the most surreal experiences.

wall of skulls and what i can only assume are femurs.

everywhere

evening: in chicago, i never went to readings because when you live in a city for years, you start to stop taking advantage of it. you take it for granted but when you're somewhere else, and the things you can do in your own language gets smaller, you find yourself going to things you wouldn't normally do. unfortunately, this poetry reading isn't amazing.

on smokey beer

2008-11-23T14:43:00.006-06:00

lots of stuff live on our dining room table.

i'm having a leffe blonde beer right now, one that i've had back in chicago but i don't remember it tasting like this: smokey like an oak plank grilled over charcoal (if i knew what that tasted like) and smelling like a good scotch. this is to say that it tastes good.

on the beauty of the opera house

2008-11-23T10:06:00.014-06:00

metro buddies greet us on our way home every day. the wolf says, "fuck halloween". we don't take offense but we don't share his sentiment.

Paris, day 22

morning: a friend of mine comments on facebook that i should read a book, which will remain unnamed, about a girl from chicago who spends a month in paris. claire and i say that we have to network and learn to be schmoozers in order to get our own book deals.

we head to the paris opera house, or palais garnier, named after the man who won the prize to become its architect. we are spending another 10 euro on another tour with paris walked, and just like yesterday, it is cold out, but not as biting. though it's only a block or so from the metro opera stop to the entrance of the opera house, i am immediately glad that we will be spending the afternoon indoors.

the lights of the grand staircase are warm.

the chicago symphony orchestra won't get any more of my money until they drape everything in crushed red velvet. j/k.

afternoon: the tour is led by the same knowledgeable woman we had yesterday, oriel, who greets us at the entrance. little do we know the opulence that lies ahead. we lie to the boy behind the opera ticket tour office and he sells us a discounted student entrance ticket for four euro. i don't feel bad about this because i am young and unemployed. and yes, there is an unemployed discount for four euro as well, but i don't know how to prove my lack of a job.

we start the tour in the entrance that was supposed to be used by Napoleon III, who commissioned the building of the opera house because he wanted to show others countries that Paris was prospering. as we learn later, Napoleon never got to go to the opera because he abdicated before the opera house was finished 15 years later in 1885. damn that franco-prussian war. the interior of the building is pretty outrageous, much like versailles, but less overwhelming and ostentatious and a bit cozier. it also inspired The Phantom, and we learn that there is a lake under the building (no swans, alas). there is an amazing ballroom there too, just beyond a mosaic gallery, and in it, they filmed a part of marie antoinette and stella mccartney held her first runway show with chloe there too. the opera house is one of the most wonderful sites we've toured on this trip -- not overwhelming, beautiful mosaics, red velvet in the auditorium, stairs like waves, the chagall ceiling, the fabulous chandeliers, cozy lighting -- one day i would love to see an opera there. it makes me think about how i want to get another subscription to the cso, or see the joffrey ballet, or go to the lyric when i'm back in chicago and have some disposable income.

the ballroom makes me want to waltz.

the night sky as rendered by garnier.

the hall of mosaics must have taken a long time to create.

while in the opera house, we see that it's snowing a little outside. it's the first snow we see of the season and we see it in paris! it's magical and ridiculous how happy this makes me.

later, we walk from a metro stop, through the rain, to musee guimet, in a 'sumptious hotel' as described in our guidebook. (hotel in french does not only mean a place to sleep for the night, but a residence i think.) it is a museum full of buddhas collected by a scientist who became obsessed with them on his travels and brought them back to the city. some buddhas are cute and zen, some are agro and scary, but seeing them comes as a welcome relief from the opulence of the opera house and previous tours of amazing buildings.

evening: basically everything in paris is closed on sunday -- supermarkets, retail stores -- but luckily banette is open so we get another baguette. we also shop for cherry crumble materials to use our expensive cherries before the rot and to welcome aaron to our paris apartment for the next five days. my feet need a blankie over them.

soaked in rum and free doctor pepper

2008-11-22T11:44:00.009-06:00

get a free dp (doctor pepper, not dirty projectors) tomorrow and thank the dreaded (ha!) axl rose.

Paris, day 21

morning: i lay around doing nothing, but everytime i get up, my head is pounding. it's surprising because this is the first time in six months that i've gotten sick. i used to get sick a lot. maybe that was a sign of unhappiness?

afternoon: we go for another walking tour with paris walks, which is an amazing tour company here in paree. if you come here, you should look them up. they are affordable (only 10 euro!) and their laid-back manner is really very informative and enjoyable. they showed prince charles and camilla around when they came to town recently. claire and i are running out of walking tours to take since we've gone on practically every one they offer. this time, it's a tour around les halles. the sun is out and we are fooled into thinking it won't be cold outside, but we are wrong and it is freezing. we go through 18th century arcades where women used to shop away from the elements, tasty chocolate spots, and the oldest patisserie in paris (the queen of england stopped in on her visit here!). we stop at an old church and at the old commerce building. for some reason, i think of our recent visit to versailles and the jeff koons exhibit there. by the end of the tour, my fingers are practically frozen, at one point, my hand is stuck clamped, so we head over to a chocolate spot and i get a hot chocolate, which was crazy delicious. we then head over to the oldest patisserie and buy some awesome goodness.

evening: we head home and eat our awesome goodness. my baba with chantilly has been soaked in rum. why aren't more cakelike things soaked in rum? we're both feeling bad right now so we might not head out tonight, though we planned to.

a giant metal lobster by jeff koons hangs in one of the state rooms in versailles. outrageousness hanging in an outrageous room. i loved it!

a giant snail with smaller snails at a snail restaurant, a word which comes from restore, when the person who created the first restaurant (a man who made broth and added beef to it) said his food would restore you after a long days work.

hot chocolate is so good! i am so cold!

claire with our oldest patisserie desserts. mine is the one on the right.

i've been obsessed with the sky and clouds lately. today's was a particularly beautiful one.

depends on how you feel i suppose.

2008-11-21T14:55:00.005-06:00

Happenings on day 20 in Paris

morning: i wake with a pounding headache but pull myself together to get to the Musee d'Orsay.

afternoon: a guided tour of the museum brings me face to face with millet, monet, van gogh, and picasso, among other artists. the museum is housed in an old central train station with lots of natural light. it's beautiful -- rivals the miro museum in barcelona for best museum space ever. i competely enjoy my time there and wonder if my previous assessment of my feelings on art were right or not. yes, i do feel like people feel obligated to go to museums because that's what you're supposed to do, but i also feel a lot of warmth looking at some of the paintings. appreciation, nice feelings, feelings that i want to be an artist. it's not that i don't feel anything looking art, but that i expect more, like maybe other people have cried looking at a piece and that maybe i should have cried sometime in my life before a piece of art or something, which is stupid. maybe it depends on the mood you're in. the louvre didn't put me in a good mood. the orsay did. i like impressionism a lot. later, we eat at an expensivo restaurant. i get onion soup blanketed with cheese and some overpriced but tasty french fries. even later, we go on a hunt for a coat, but end up empty handed.

evening: we grocery shop at monoprix and on our way home, we accidentally buy expensive cherries. after eating some tasty california-style pasta, i prepare to apply for a career opportunity i want. my headache worsens and now i want to fall asleep. my thoughts are disjointed and my eyes are shaky because of this fatigue. but i am committed to these quick notes.

in the beginning....

2008-11-21T03:02:00.005-06:00

we arrived at the prague airport on October 17. My friend and traveling companion Claire has written a detailed travel log of our adventures, so detailed that any attempt by me to summarize our trip will be overshadowed by hers. So here's her take on our three days in Prague.

the city.

the band playing in the awesome prague bar we went to our first night in. i recorded it vertically, so here it is horizontally. you still get the picture.

is art just inaccessible to me?

2008-11-20T13:42:00.005-06:00

Happenings on day 19 in Paris

morning: i stay in bed all morning. my fever broke last night but this sore throat and neverending headache need to disappear!

afternoon: go to monmartre cemetery (it felt creepier than the one in montparnasse). see tombs and graves that look like vaults and little notre dames. cats and crows are abundant. degas, emile zola, dalida, and truffaut are all there. so is a chestnuss tree. gloomy weather -- great for going to a cemetery, which is inherently a gloomy activity.

evening: go to the neighborhood creperie and get a galette with emmental cheese and a mambo crepe (lemon spread and chocolate). talk with claire about my feelings about art. perhaps they come from my insecurity about my visual art knowledge. maybe i don't need to force myself to understand but just be open and interact? am i too quick to judge? i should also see better comtemporary art. i decide to take some sort of class when i get back to chicago. on the way home, we buy a baguette from our local banette. do the women there think we're idiotic? so happy to buy a baguette that's warm, soft, and straight from the oven?

later: maybe watch the first episode of bbc's pride and prejudice again (we just saw bridget jones a few days ago -- mark darcy!). read a little autonauts of the cosmoroute (the inspiration for these quick daily notes on my activities -- maybe i'll go on a little roadtrip in the future too). do some real, structured writing.

yes, that is magnificent...

2008-11-13T03:32:00.009-06:00

yesterday, i went to the louvre, the biggest museum in the world, at least in terms of visitors. it's huge in size too, but not as big as i expected. the museum itself has an interesting history; it was once a fortress, then a palace, then, after the french revolution, a museum.

i've never been a student of art or art history and i'm a bit embarrassed by this. i know the famous pieces and artists -- the ones that are mainstream like the teenage mutant ninja turtles or ones that i've come to learn about in recent years -- but on the whole, i have many more friends who are much more learned about the art world. i wish i knew more, but i don't.

visual art for me has never been emotional. yes, i can appreciate the skill it takes to paint something like seurat's huge sunday afternoon canvas, but i've never been so taken by a piece of work that i'm rendered speechless. well, the only time i was completely amazed was when i went to the miro museum in barcelona and saw a huge tapestry he had made especially for the museum. but even then, i don't know if i was hit emotionally by the piece or just taken aback by how grand and difficult it must have been to make. i'm not saying i don't like visual art, that i don't think some things are beautiful, but maybe i don't experience it like others do. does this make me uncultured?

i think sometimes people are also expected to love art, that if you don't, then something is wrong with you. millions of people go to museums, but is it because that's expected when you're on vacation or that you actually want to see art. even then, is it just to say that you've seen it, or is it because you understand it and that it means something to you?

at the louvre, a horde of people stood around the mythical mona lisa taking pictures. i spent an extra 5 euro to go on a guided tour because i didn't think i knew enough about art and i wanted someone to tell me about and take me to all these important works. according to my tour guide, the myth began when DiVinci brought the portrait to the king -- which was odd in and of itself because portraits are commissioned and the king didn't commission the work -- and the king bought it at some outrageous price. this news of a high-value purchase spread and people couldn't figure out why the king would pay so much for a painting. moreover, the portrait was never shown to the public. then, another king decided to hang it in his bathroom, and the public still never saw the portrait. when it finally was shown to the public, it already had a mythical rep. that's continued ever since. but, the smile on the mona lisa is just your average DiVinci smile, who thought that the features of a face should have a circular shape. if you look at other DiVinci's, most of the people have a similar smile.

notice i'm more interested in the story rather than the piece itself, although i did take a picture of the mona lisa since it seemed like the thing to do. it is blurry though since i hate using flash so you can't see her smile. but if you go to the louvre, you can elbow your way to the barricade that keeps people at least 10 feet away from her.

the crowd looking at the mona lisa.

the louvre palace and the grand pyramid.

so it's true!

2008-11-08T16:25:00.004-06:00

two nights ago, i had dinner with someone i met while i was in barcelona. she's french, and i had forgotten what city she was from. when she told me, i didn't understand what she said, so she had to pull out a map and point to it. she's from lyon. not an unknown city, but she said it with a french accent so i didn't understand her. and so it continues...

she told me i should visit her in lyon while i'm here. i said i would love to and that she should visit chicago. she said she probably wouldn't and that she hates americans, even though she likes her american friends. she fulfilled one of the strongest french stereotypes i had.

right now, some kids across the street are dancing to some blasting tunes. a little while ago, they were singing along hardcore to the macarena -- that was surprising.

homesick. now what?

2008-11-06T10:23:00.004-06:00

I was a little homesick two days ago, despite being in Paris, one of the world's most awesome places. I was a little homesick because I wasn't in Chicago, my adopted home city, where Barack Obama gave his victory speech. I was a little homesick because I wished I could be among the thousands in Grant Park, because I wish I saw the speech in person, because I wish I was there for the historic moment. Maybe that makes me lame and corny and swept up in the Obama wave, but sometimes i'm lame and corny and tend to get swept up with my emotions.

I watched the election results in the gorgeous one-bedroom apartment that Claire and I share in the 14th arrondoisement. We drifted in and out of sleep in front of CNN and at 5:00 a.m. Paris time, I awoke to CNN announcing that Obama was the 44th president and scenes of jubilation from grant park. i felt a little pang in my heart then for chi-town.

I'm not so naive as to think that things will change overnight, or that things will change that dramatically at all, but at least now, for me and half of the country that voted for him, there's hope. For a long time, there wasn't even that. It's particularly amazing that so many people were inspired by him, mobilized by his campaign, and exhilarated by his message. Though this is a small victory, we still have a long way to go.

On a side note, it's crazy that he went to my rival high school.

My friend Jake sent me this e-mail before the election. I thought I'd post his thoughts here (better late than never).

Five essential issues the candidates have avoided.

Medicare for all
The failed drug war
Sprawl
The devastating impact of animal agriculture
Class war

Every four years the United States carries out one of the greatest exercises in mass political participation in the world, yet every presidential election is defined by the issues the candidates choose to debate rather than the most important issues the country faces. The issues raised this year are the most urgent in several decades of presidential contests, but after three debates in which the same questions were recycled again and again, it should be no surprise that hugely important issues are still off the table. No matter who wins this Tuesday, these issues must be brought into the national debate.

Medicare for all
The United States is unique among rich countries: it does not provide health insurance to all its people - one out of every six Americans does not have coverage. Since almost 50 million people can't afford to see a doctor, you might think the US spends less on health care than other rich countries that cover everyone. But in fact American per capita health care expenses are *two times higher* than even the second-highest spender - and three times higher than other countries with universal coverage.

That means we're getting a horrible deal on health care - other countries insure everyone, spend far less money doing so, and their people are at least as healthy as Americans. The reason is that those countries' governments provide health care. In America private insurers do it, spending huge amounts of money to reduplicate each other's bureaucracy (which is mainly used to find ways to *deny* care), to pay their executives millions of dollars, and to buy advertising.

The US already has a highly efficient government health insurance program that provides care at a much lower cost than private insurers - but only the elderly are eligible for Medicare. If we extended Medicare to all Americans, our health costs would plummet and we could guarantee the right of every American to health care. Unfortunately, private insurers also spend your health care dollars on lobbying and political attack ads, which is why even those politicians who understand the right way to solve our health care crisis are afraid to support it. Only when the American people start demanding the only efficient and fair solution - Medicare for everyone - will politicians start listening.

The failed drug war
Americans have a strange relationship with recreational drugs. The two that are by far the most socially destructive - alcohol and tobacco - are legal and widely available. Meanwhile, one drug - marijuana - that unlike alcohol and tobacco is not addictive, not associated with violence, and carries less risk of chronic disease, remains illegal. Other truly dangerous drugs like heroin and methamphetamines are driven underground, where they cannot be regulated. Instead the business is controlled by violent gangs that battle each other and the police to control the market - leading to exactly the same kind of unnecessary violence that accompanied the prohibition of alcohol in the 1920s. And finally, we treat those who suffer from addiction as criminals, offering them jail rather than treatment. Does anyone seriously believe that addiction is a choice, which can be pummeled out of the victim by prison?

Dangerous drugs should be legal but strictly controlled, and treatment programs should finally be fully funded. This would not only eliminate the violence involved with drugs, and it would not only begin treating drug abusers as human beings with a devastating medical problem. It would also radically reduce the amount of taxpayer money spent to fight drugs - now mostly wasted on controlling prohibition-caused violence and imprisoning nonviolent offenders - and redirect it in more effective ways.

But as we reform our drug laws we must also take steps to address the underlying social problems that make illegal drugs so socially destructive for certain communities. Right now, even though drug use is evenly spread across cities and suburbs, whites and blacks, the drug war is targeted mainly at poor urban blacks. For decades, the economy and social fabric of these communities was devastated by a toxic combination of deindustrialization, capital flight, and racist neglect. Now we imprison huge numbers of these young men for their involvement in what is often the only viable source of jobs in their community, and they then return to their neighborhoods with even bleaker prospects for a job or stable lives. The answer is not to get tougher on people with few other choices - we must target the real problem, which is economic collapse and inadequate public investment.

Sprawl
The global climate crisis and the rising price of oil (halted only temporarily by the world recession) are closely related to sprawl. The endless extension of roads and highways to serve endlessly expanding suburbs and their ever-larger houses and lawns requires an endless increase in the use of energy and resources to heat and cool those houses, to build the infrastructure to serve them, and to propel the cars whose commute distances and times are, unsurprisingly, also endlessly increasing. The longer we stay on this path, the worse global warming, air pollution, traffic congestion, and global oil shortages will become.

For the last 50 years, the government has subsidized and even mandated sprawl by building highways, using zoning regulations to discourage dense, mixed-use development, and constantly intervening in the Middle East to keep the price of oil low. Americans are now demanding more options - neighborhoods that are walkable and bike-friendly, with good access to public transit and retail and jobs close by.

But to make this kind of development cost-effective, and to fight our destructive addiction to oil, the price of gas can never again collapse to the artificially low levels of the 1980s and '90s. And that's why the candidates won't talk about this issue - the only way to address climate change, to meaningfully reduce our dependence on foreign oil, and to convince developers to invest in compact development rather than sprawl is to keep the price of gas high. A price floor of at least $4 should be established and gradually increased, so that if the price of oil drops the cost of gasoline will still reflect the social damage done by driving. Some of the revenues from this tax should be spent to help those who can least afford the transition, and the rest of it should go toward expanding public transit and Amtrak, which have both suffered from decades of underinvestment, and to research on alternative energy sources. The transition to a more sustainable lifestyle will be painful, but not as painful as if we once again wait complacently for the next oil shock.

The devastating impact of animal agriculture
Over the last 50 years the livestock industry has quietly experienced a revolutionary transformation, from the family farm to the factory farm. Now most animals are raised in confined animal feeding operations (CAFOs), where as many animals are crammed together in as small a space as possible to maximize the profits of huge agribusinesses.

It goes without saying that these conditions are horribly cruel to the animals, who have almost no space to move around or engage in any of their natural behaviors. The cramped conditions also lead to aggression among the animals, so the livestock corporations cut off the chickens' beaks to prevent them from killing each other, and cut off the pigs' tails to keep the pig in the cage behind from chewing it off.

But the problems extend far beyond ethical bankruptcy. CAFOs are breeding grounds for disease, which leads the corporations to shoot the animals full of antibiotics, which make their way into our food and increase the risk that antibiotic-resistant diseases could emerge and devastate the food supply. Huge amounts of animal waste are concentrated in one spot, making responsible disposal impossible - so agribusiness dumps it into our rivers and streams, destroying their ecosystems. This runoff can then infect our vegetable supply, and was the source of recent deadly outbreaks of E. coli and salmonella in lettuce, spinach, and tomatoes.

On top of these dangers, the intense consumption of meat presents its own problems. The livestock industry is responsible for 1/5 of the world's human-induced greenhouse gases - a total greater than cars and planes combined. Meat is horribly energy inefficient, requiring that many times more grain be fed to animals to produce the same amount of protein and calories than a plant-based diet. And meat-eating is aggravating a growing global food crisis by diverting grain to the production of meat rather than to feeding the hungry.

Yet the government heavily subsidizes the production of meat by sending millions of dollars to agribusiness corn and soy interests that grow most of their crops to supply CAFOs. For decades government has stood idly by as factory farms swallowed up the country's family farmers and devastated the rural environment. It's time to start thinking about regulating these unethical threats to public health out of existence, and transitioning to a less meat-heavy diet.

Class war
The only class war in America has nothing to do with Barack Obama's very modest proposal to increase taxes on the incredibly super-rich. Over the last 30 years, the productivity of American workers has increased more than 70 percent, yet workers' real wages have not increased at all, and the lowest-paid have actually taken a big pay cut. What that means is that corporations are making more money, but they aren't giving any of it to their workers (corporate profits now occupy a larger share of the economy than at any time since the 1960s). Corporate executives and shareholders have seized all the gains for themselves. That's class war.

The reason that productivity and wages rose in tandem during the 1950s and '60s is that labor unions were strong, and made sure that workers got some share of the pie. But the severe recession of the early '80s and a brutal assault on organized labor by the Reagan administration crippled the unions. Free trade deals and the increasing share of low-skill nonunionized service jobs in the economy has kept workers weak ever since.

At the same time, the tax rates on the very rich have been continuously lowered, especially on the investment income that they don't actually work for (capital gains taxes). Many corporate executives now pay a lower effective tax rate than their secretaries. The theory was that these people knew how best to invest that money - a theory that produced reckless speculation and has given us the worst financial crisis since the Depression. Maybe it's time to let working people spend more of the money from the wealth they produce rather than letting rich folks wreck the economy with it.

Rebalancing the tax code to reward work rather than unearned income is a good way to start, and so is raising the minimum wage to a true living wage and indexing it to inflation. We must also remove some of the barriers to organizing unions that businesses have thrown up over the years - passing the Employee Free Choice Act, which was blocked only by a Senate minority this term - should be a high priority.

But beyond legislation, we need to start rethinking some ideas that have been taken for granted for too long. The market does not magically distribute income to those who work hardest or most deserve it, it distributes income to those with power. Over the last 30 years a large majority of the population has acquiesced in their stagnating incomes as the power of well-positioned executives, investors, and managers soared and they took more and more of society's wealth. Now that we see what they've done to economy with all that money and power, it's about time we took some of it back.

damn this french!

2008-11-04T09:49:00.004-06:00

i just ventured out of our paris apartment alone for the first time, with no claire and her french as a fallback. popping into clothing stores and the supermarket, i dodged sales clerks so that i wouldn't have to talk to anyone. at sephora, i walked away from a a woman spying on me, terrified she'd ask if i needed any help (not that i'd know if that was her question). at monoprix, i had no clue what the cashier said to me as i paid. at a small knick-knack shop, the owner said something to me and all i could say is "par-lee voo onglay?" i feel like david sedaris. french is so completely foreign to me i can't even start to decipher what someone is saying. nasal sounds. grunting sounds. the silent endings of words. ah!!!

we've been watching cnn in our apartment. they keep showing lines of people waiting to vote. they're struggling to bring us election 'news' 24/7 and just filled up time by describing the technology that the cnn news room uses to bring us the election results -- this includes a model of the capitol that opens up to show us senate and house seats.

salut!

2008-11-04T02:48:00.002-06:00

after two weeks of non-stop travel, which brought me through the czech republic (prague), germany (berlin and rosenheim), and italy (bolzano, giussago, verona, and rome), i've finally arrived in paris, my home for the next month. first impressions after two days: it rivals prague for 'the best lit city in the world', the eiffel tower reminds me of a chess pawn, and everything is expensive.

in the upcoming days, i'll blog a bit more about my recent travels, but now i've got to get caught up with election news. claire and i are staying up all night to watch the results and i've spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to find a good place to go. more soon...

20 years after communism

2008-10-20T17:21:00.005-05:00

we went to prague. gilded, colorful, ornate buildings. but what struck me most was how the noise of the city seemed to disappear into the air. it was surprisingly quiet with an energy completely different from bcn. calm, relaxed. on wenceslas square, where dubcek and havel declared the end of communism and people protested and demonstrated, department stores and chains have taken over. capitalism after communism, man.

the city is beautiful though. the city planners lit the streets and buildings like paintings. claire and i visited statues of two men pissing on the czech rep and a car on four legs, the jewish town and the oldest jewish cemetery in europe, prague castle (the largest in europe), old town square and charles bridge, a hilarious museum of ghosts and legends, a hawaii-themed bar, an awesome one with old guys playing music, and walked around. we also saw a film about chinese punk rockers. a lot in two days.

when we first arrived, i was the only non-white person i saw for hours. but then we got to the tourist part of town and tourists mean diversity!

they declared communism over on this balcony. under it, there's a department store.

interesting.....

nice corner.

i've decided

2008-10-15T17:25:00.002-05:00

that i'm going to try to stop thinking about life too much. i think too much thinking about life may not be good for my life. so instead, i'm going to try to enjoy it for a while and take in new experiences without translating them too much. this may be because i'm leaving chicago for a while again, and if i think about it, i'm not going to enjoy the trip that i'm going on.

in other news, i'm excited about getting a new apartment and decorating it for my return. i was obsessed with lord of the rings years and years ago, so if you want to build a hobbit home, find out how.

the most frustrating thing

2008-10-09T18:03:00.002-05:00

is when you're trying to write a story, but the words just aren't coming to you. when you have an idea of what you write about, and you think about the sentences and words you want to use in your head, and everything there makes sense and a story starts to form, but when you sit down and actually want to write it, to put these thoughts to paper, your beautifully constructed thoughts just don't translate. it totally blows -- esp. when you're trying to write commentary for public radio. i suspect this happens to many writers, and probably musicians, artists, and creative types too.

i'm finding myself

2008-10-08T10:54:00.003-05:00

anxious to start my life back up in chicago. a problem since i'm set to return to europe on october 16 to travel and end up in paris in november. when i went away nearly four months ago, the life i had here was not fulfilling. i went away to try to figure things out and though i can't say that things are crystal clear for me, i want to put what i know into practice.

two years ago, after completing my fellowship at the academy for alternative journalism here, i found myself unemployed. and now, i'm unemployed again but a different person. two years seems like a long time ago now, but it really isn't. a lot can happen in two years. though i still have no idea what i'm doing -- except that i want to work at chicago public radio -- everything is different. i keep talking about this. bart says that i'm in crisis, but i don't know if it's exactly a crisis, more like a state of complete uncertainty and a want to move forward now that i'm ready.

a smile

2008-10-05T14:08:00.002-05:00

back in chicago

2008-10-03T08:13:00.003-05:00

and it's not too weird, even though life, as i've said, is so different. eva says that i should give time to time and now's the time to adjust. it's true, i need patience, with time, the future, life. i was stuck in a corner before and now i need to explore the whole room.

not what i expected

2008-09-30T18:24:00.004-05:00

so i left chicago to find myself, or that's what i keep saying. but really, i think i was running away from things. and now, i think i think about life way too much. like i'm angela in my so-called life, wrapped up in how i feel about what i'm feeling. i probably think this because my life is going to change again.

i'm still struggling about what to reveal in my blog -- three years after i first posed the question. why do i have to write about what i'm thinking? why start a blog in the first place? why not just keep my notebook?

after the fiasco

2008-09-30T13:42:00.003-05:00

at the stansted airport (recall that i tried entering london, was arbitrarily detained for 18 hours, then removed back to oporto, where I flew in from), i bought a same-day, one-way ticket back to barcelona. it cost me a pretty penny, but i had to come back here (where else could i have gone?). luckily, my great friends, jerel and eva, have let me stay in their home and sleep on their air mattress for the last three weeks. some people just have hearts that are too big. like they could explode with generosity.

in two days, i'm leaving, which is weird. i'll be back in chicago and won't see two people, who, just three months ago, were complete strangers. i guess in life, you're always leaving people behind, and missing them is something you just have to deal with. i just don't like it, but have to accept it.

on a camping trip at la plana near the pyranees.

celery ice cream

2008-09-29T05:40:00.005-05:00

you'd never think that vegetable ice cream would be good. but i ate it here yesterday and it was terrific. i'm anxious to go back to chicago for a few weeks. unsure of what's there for me and how i'm going to react to it. at the same time, there's excitement too. and maybe a little sadness that my life there is not the same as when i left it, but hopefully for the better. though i doubt i'll find celery ice cream there.

the food here is much fresher than the food in the states -- even cheap sandwich shops (the ones that aren't big american chains) have fresh vegetables and meat. there are no cheap, farmers markets in the states, or ones that are cheap enough for me to go to. last year, i wanted to take part in a food co-op, but that apparently isn't made for people living off nonprofit salaries and trying to pay off thousands in student loan debt. instead, corporations have taken over the food industry, where quality has been substituted for quantity, much like the rest of the american way. but i miss chicago nonetheless. why?

a new perspective is what i'll bring back with me. i read letters to a young poet a few weeks ago. a growth that i, naturally, cannot take anyone with me. it's lonely but also fortifying.

i thought i'd od'ed

2008-09-28T15:05:00.004-05:00

after nearly five years as music reviews editor for venus zine, i was pretty much through with music. going through piles of cds from bands -- established and completely unknown -- really killed my music love. even the really good didn't excite me, i was happy that i got the free cd more than how great it was. (eva just lit some incense and it smells good in this apartment.) but now that it's been nearly a year (a year!) since i resigned from my post, i'm finally getting back to listening to bands i once loved and singers i really liked, discovering new things out there. maybe it's a signal to a new life, or taking parts of my old one with me.

while outside the states, i've spent a massive amount of time keeping up with what's been happening with the election. it's exhausting but i can't help myself. jerel keeps referring to the u.s. as my country, since he no longer sees it as his country because he never sees himself moving back there again. even though i've loved living here, i can't say i'm ready to leave the u.s. for good.

not a return.

2008-09-28T12:53:00.004-05:00

i didn't expect to miss chicago during my travels in europe and stay in barcelona, but i do. i don't really know why. considering that my life in the windy city wasn't a satisfying one, this urge to return caught me a bit by surprise. spurred by the possibility of working at a dream job, i'm going back to a place i wanted to leave so badly, to a life that doesn't exist anymore. but i'm going because that's what i want to do, return to the windy city for two weeks, before leaving again to go to prague and ultimately live in paris for a month.

your old life is put into perspective when you leave it to start a new one, and though i miss some aspects of it, i wouldn't go back to how it was. so much to learn, so young, so green. to face the unknown, stronger and with more faith.

sometimes i read other people's blogs to know that i'm not alone. and sometimes it works.

back again.

2008-09-26T10:01:00.004-05:00

it's raining here in barcelona, which is a bit weird for me. i've spent the entire summer here, and during that time, it rained for maybe four days. but when i returned the bcn this past monday from the canary islands, dark clouds and colder weather welcomed me.

i'm back in barcelona after having gone to portugal, more specifically lisbon and oporto. i planned on going to london, but that didn't work out so well. when i arrived at the stansted airport, i was refused entry. why? i don't really understand, but because i was writing a column for venus, they said i was working illegally in spain, and that i was going to work illegally in london too. so they detained me for 18 hours and sent me back to oporto. it doesn't really make any sense, but i think this just proves that, sometimes, things happen in life that are completely arbitrary and don't make any sense. i thought of prisoners in gitmo who have done nothing wrong but be in the wrong place at the wrong time. that comparison, though, seems completely ridiculous since i finally got back to barcelona after buying a hella expensive ticket at the oporto airport, and i'm not confined to some tiny cell in cuba.

so i've been in barcelona for september. though i did go to the canary islands to visit my friend eva and her family. it reminded me much of hawaii, but browner. the island has changed a lot within the last 40 years, according to eva, and feels a little like southern cali, hawaii, and disneyland combined. lots of roads have been built there and there's an increasing car culture. much like hawaii, long roads stretch along the coastline and go through mountains, and there's not much of a transit system. because of the increasing car culture, people have become more secluded. eva says that most people just spend their times in their cars, going from one place to another, and not so much in the community anymore. while walking back to her house one night, the streets in her town, galdar, were completely empty, a big change from eva's youth.

but now i'm back in barcelona and am heading home to chicago in about a week. i'd originally thought to travel the rest of europe before meeting up with my friend claire in prague in mid-october, but, wouldn't you know, i miss chicago and the familiarity there. so i dropped a few hundred dollars for a bcn-ord-prg ticket and am going to be in chicago for two weeks. it's a little bit weird since i don't have a home there, and my life is going to be completely different from my life before i left, but i'm happy to be going back for a while. riding the el, hearing english everywhere, it'll be a little comforting. it will also hopefully stem the shock i'm bound to have when i return permanently after my travels. i also hope i'll get an interview for a dream job i applied for. fingers crossed.

but on with my travels, life in a different country, and the continuing journey to discover what i'm really made of.

(btw, here's the latest venus column, which didn't help my cause while detained. apparently, because i had only written it three days before i arrived in london, the immigration authorities were even more convinced that i was going to work while in the city. locura.)

so this is it?

2008-09-01T01:13:00.002-05:00

i'm in portugal right now, having left barcelona yesterday. it's pretty difficult when you leave behind friends who you've come to really, really care about. three months in a country with no obligations aside from going to class everyday gave me the time to hang out with a bunch of people and get really close to them. i didn't expect that, halfway across the world, i'd become friends with folks who i hope to be friends with for life.

lisboa is pretty small, at least to me as an american. the population is about 500,000. it's way smaller than barcelona. i feel like i can see a lot of the city in the three days i'm here and maybe that's even too long. what do people here do with their days? a girl i met here in the hostel tells me that this is the normal size of a european city. i had no idea they were this small.

this is a bit more formal

2008-08-10T05:37:00.003-05:00

so i started a column for venus about my quarter-life crisis and running away to europe. i like to think it's a bit more formal than my random thoughts in this here blog. here are links to the first two installments:

One-Way Ticket: This is what I had to do

One-Way Ticket: You can only be where you are and nowhere else

how was it? muy tranquilo.

2008-08-01T07:32:00.006-05:00

it's been a while since i posted because i've been either too busy or too lazy. many things have happened. last weekend, or maybe two weekends ago now, i went down to valencia with my friends ste and cami. the city is about three hours south of barcelona by train, near the coast. it's famous for its great beaches and for the calatrava buildings. i must say, though, that valencia didn't seem like it had a lot going on. while we were there, there were the formula three qualifications, which were loud and prohibited us from walking around the port. but the city is beautiful and the food i ate was great. still, after two days, it seemed like we had run out of things to do and i was happy to come back to bcn. when i was in chicago, deciding where i wanted to study spanish in spain, i thought of valencia, but barcelona is way better.

ste and me.

we got lost a few hours before we arrived. this is us looking for the port. we are hungry and cranky and tired.

the square in the old city of valencia. we don't have squares like this in chicago.

my time here in bcn is almost coming to a close. i plan on leaving here to go to lisboa and oporto, then to london. still, it's a month away, so no need to plan too much now. this statement, already, is a change from me two months ago, when i had to decide what to do months in advance.

move it

2008-07-21T08:07:00.011-05:00

on my way to class today, i decided to listen to beyonce's "crazy in love". my friend dan bought it for me as a christmas present some years ago because i didn't want to get it myself. surprisingly, the first few songs are a great soundtrack to the streets of barcelona. i'd upload "crazy in love" or "naughty girl" but i think i'd get sued by the riaa or something.

i've recently realized that the way people dance here is way more jubilant than the way we dance in the u.s. in america, we tend not to move our feet very much, bouncing up and down at the knees (unless you're stepping or line dancing or dancing in a show, but generally it's really restrained, unless you're drunk). here in bcn, people really like to move a lot, freely, in a different sort of rhythm than in the u.s. (maybe it's a sign that life here has a different rhythm in general?) i noticed this at a party two nights ago and at an outdoor show i went to last night. after the "show" ended, the musicians thought to walk around the street playing music instead. i filmed 10 seconds of it because sometimes one must document something while enjoying it, otherwise you'd forget how enjoyable the experience actually was. i want to upload it, but blogger won't let me and i don't want to contact support like it's telling me to.

now i understand why musicians at shows are always trying to get us americans to dance in the audience. we're like afraid to move and show we're having a good time (at least this is my experience in chicago, we're too cool to move to your music). i'm now listening to jt, "my love".

so here's the video i spoke of -- i uploaded it to youtube instead.

estoy intentando

2008-07-20T06:38:00.011-05:00

so i'm getting increasingly frustrated with my inability to learn spanish quickly. although i think i'm doing pretty well, i want the language to open up to me. i want to be able to hold a conversation in spanish, to understand what people are saying in the street, to speak without having to pause to think of the verb i'm trying to use, how to conjugate it, and whether the object is masculine or feminine. i want to be able to open my mouth and have spanish come out from inside. but, you know, i can't expect it all to come after four weeks of classes. my friend jerel said something to me about patience at a party last night, but i was too drunk to remember it now, which is too bad because at the time i thought it was really poetic. he also said that i should be happy with where i am now, and i can only be where i am and nowhere else. this piece of advice not only applies to my spanish learning, but also to life in general. i think jerel is a life master who is imparting his wisdom on my green, young, confused self.

it also doesn't help that everyone i'm friends with here, or people i meet somewhere, can speak at least a little english. i think part of this is the fact that i don't speak spanish well, but i also think it's because people want to practice their english because 1) it's like the "default" language between people from different countries and 2) i think it's been a really important language for people to learn since the u.s. has been such a imperialist superpower. people like speaking to me in english because it's easier than speaking to me in spanish (me: "puedes hablar mas despacio por favor?" o "otra vez". them: "si. tenemos que ir blah blah blah blah blah") .

it's easy for me to speak english here, and when i get really frustrated, i just start speaking english. stefano says i give up too easily, but i know he's wrong. anyway, he's italian, and speaks a language that's close to spanish in terms of sentence structure, grammar, etc. so he's got it easy. me, i'll just keep trucking along.

things i did recently:

eat an awesome salad i just made with chicken from la boqueria (one of the open markets here), avocado, parsley, tomato, roasted garlic, and artichokes.

say goodbye to a few friends leaving barcelona.

go to montserrat and see the awesomeness that is nature.

go to a party behind some parking garage.

here are some photos at Montserrat (Serrated Mountain):

i'd upload more but it's a pain to do it in blogger and i have to shower now. updates soon.

sonrisas

2008-07-18T12:10:00.004-05:00

i was walking down the street today and started smiling for no reason, and when i realized this, i tried to stop, but couldn't. it was weird, but also reassuring.

this morning, while walking to spanish class, i saw a little girl, no more than 2, walking a dog. it was, like, the cutest thing ever.

i've started two different weekly intercambios with two people here. we speak in spanish for thirty minutes, then in english for thirty minutes. it's a chance for me to improve my spanish and for them to improve their english, but i've come to find that i don't know the rules of the english language as well as i maybe should. for example, christian, one of my intercambio partners who i found on loquo.com (a sort of craigslist here), asked me what the difference was between "i was swimming" and "i swam". this came up when he was telling me what he did yesterday and he said "i was swimming in the pool". I told him he should have said, "i swam in the pool". when he asked me why, i could only say that it's because he already did it and he wasn't continuing the action. yet, if you see in the first sentence of this post, i said, "i was walking down the street" instead of "i walked down the street". confused? so am i. if you have any explanations for this, let me know.

ok, gotta go meet some people for dinner so no time to post pictures, but i'll do that some time soon.

no job, but still busy.

2008-07-14T16:46:00.008-05:00

when you quit your job to move to another country and learn spanish, it's amazing how busy you can still be. i only have a four-hour commitment a day (for spanish class) but i'm finding that my days are packed. some would say packed with nothing, but i would say packed with fun!

i don't really know what i do. sometimes i study, sometimes i go to the beach and study, sometimes i go to the grocery store. most of the time, i'm eating something. the gelado here is great. i love ice cream (and french fries), as anyone who knows me knows.

so a summary of my weekend. on friday, i went out for tapas with friends. on saturday, camille and i hopped on a train that ran along the coast and decided to get off wherever we felt like it. thirty minutes later, camille saw some houses she thought her mom would like pictures of, so we got off, went to the beach, swam, and walked around. when i got back, i barely had time to shower, change, and take a siesta before going to visit jerel. on sunday, stefano cooked lunch again. it was awesome - a summertime rice salad, some eggplant coquettes, tomato and mozzarella, and a fruit salad.

spanish is coming along well. there are some things i don't have to think about before saying them. most of the time, when i do think about something before i say it, i end up saying it wrong. it sucks. i want to be able to speak spanish better than a five-year-old spanish child.

the view from my terrace.

some pictures i took after dinner on friday:

the beach we were at on saturday. my skin is dying a slow death. i've vowed not to go to the beach this week and instead spend my time actually doing something.

a restaurant further down the beach we were at.

at stefano's again. rudi, second from the right, really wanted to get sagrada familia in the picture. you can kinda see it there. sjan, on the right, and i really wanted to eat.

yummm...

2008-07-10T14:00:00.010-05:00

a few days ago, i had dinner with friends at the apartment of my pal, stefano. it was my first italian meal cooked by an italian (well, except for barbeques at jenny m's and maybe at italian restaurants in the u.s.?). we had spaghetti carbonara. here are pictures:

stefano lives in front of sagrada familia. here's the view from his window.

stefano cooking the impromptu meal. stefano says "chill out" like this: "sshhilllout". slowly.

ruben insisted we take a picture using the timer on my camera. from left to right: ruben from brasil, stefano, me, and camille from montreal.

i don't know if i've mentioned this before, but the garbage collection here in barcelona is amazing. i think they must pick trash up three times a day. now if only they could get to the dog poop.

it's getting hot in here...

2008-07-07T11:21:00.010-05:00

i moved into a new apartment here in barcelona, and i must say, it's pretty awesome. as i write this, my terrace doors are open, and although i hear construction going on outside (there's a lot of construction going on in the old city. i suspect it's because barcelona is going through what new york went through a few years ago, i.e. increasing rent, the "cleaning up" of the city), it's nevertheless great to have a terrace i can look out onto the city.

the day i moved pretty much sucked because it's been incredibly hot here. the thermostat says 30 degrees but i don't really know what that translates to since i know shit about celsius, but my friend jenny, back in chicago, tells me that it's about 85 fahrenheit. it really feels much hotter than that, so i don't know if i believe it. i basically hauled all my shit through two different neighborhoods, but, unlike in chicago, i didn't mind the walk -- i'm still enjoying the scenery here. i remember walking to work in chicago and seeing tourists taking pictures of what seemed to me the most ridiculous things, i.e. the el, a building, the street. but being here in bcn, i can see why. i don't necessarily feel like a tourist, but i do feel like a foreigner. the other day, i was at the museu de picasso and took a picture of an entryway between two rooms. here's a picture:

a few nights ago was "magic night" on montjuic, a mountain here where museums and gardens are located. a few friends and i went to the catalan museum of art (i saw some cool stained glass and really big, old coins), the museum of archeology (where we played african drums and my italian friend stefano attempted to do an african dance), and took a walk through the gardens. we ended up getting patatas fritas at an outdoor cinema that was showing "west side story" (which i've never seen before). so, i guess what i'm trying to say is that life here is great.

the barcelona cathedral

people dancing the sardana, the catalan dance that symbolizes unity. there were a lot of old people dancing it, which makes me wonder if it'll survive the next few decades.

the band playing music for the sardana. they play and people dance every sunday in front of the cathedral, which kinda touches my heart. is that lame?

this is the museum for catalan art

this is it at night

i tried uploading a boring video of the fountain at plaza espanya, which is where i'm standing when i took this picture, but blogger won't let me do it. maybe i'll post it later.

time flies

2008-07-02T06:54:00.005-05:00

so it's been a few days since i wrote here. i guess i could say i've been busy, but i don't know what i've been doing exactly. i've hit the beach a few times here in barcelona and it shows. i'm probably darker than any of my chicago friends have seen me. mind you, i've gone topless so i don't have any tanlines up there. i'll say it again, the mediterranean sea is awesome.

spanish school has kinda given me a reason to wake up in the morning -- even though i have to get there at 930 -- and i look forward to class every day. it's also made me think about the english language and how descriptive it is. my friend camille, who's from quebec, first brought it to my attention. yesterday, she asked me what the english word was for getting sick at the sea, and i told her it was sea sickness, where in french, it's something totally different. it's the same thing with music stand -- a stand where you put your music on -- but in french it's some ridiculous word. today we learned the spanish word for sweater -- jersey -- but in english, it's a thing that makes you sweat -- a sweat-er. my friend fernanda say that the language of a culture can tell you a lot *about* the culture. in castellano, they call a big bed la cama de matrimonio, and someone who's pregnant is embarazador. take that as you will, but my dutch roommate says that spanish people have the dirtiest mouths you will ever hear.

since i last wrote, spain also won the eurocopa. i was at the same bar where i saw us defeat russia, and walking down the street following the game, there were loads of people celebrating. it wasn't riotous exactly, but chaotic. it's pretty cool that i was here when that happened.

hmmmm.... what else. it's kinda crazy that i'm not working at all while i'm here. i kinda don't know how to fill my days. there's really only so much walking, hanging out, and going to the beach that one person can do day after day. but what am i talking about? will i always find something to complain about? i hope not. i'm not complaining, it's just weird not having to go to an office and do something that i hate doing for eight hours a day. i should enjoy this while i still can dammit!

i suppose i'll post some pictures that i forgot to of the town of sant pol:

it's no rubber bullet

2008-06-26T16:33:00.008-05:00

So the EuroCup (a futbol tournament for Euro teams) is a huge thing here in Europe (duh), and during matches, you'll find people crowded in pubs to watch the game on televisions. The EuroCopa has been going on since I arrived in Barcelona, and I have no idea when it ends, though I believe it's soon.

Tonight, I went to a pub full of Spanish people with a few classmates from my language school to watch Spain beat Russia in the quarter-finals. Europeans are crazily fanatic about their futbol teams, and Spain hasn't gotten this far in the EuroCup in a long while, so making it to the finals (against Alemania, er, Germany) is a big deal. Walking home, people popped leftover fireworks from St. Joan, sang in the streets, and honked their horns. As I sit here typing this, the windows to my terrace are open and I can hear car horns outside. During the World Cup four years ago, Sam's sister and a friend were here, and after Spain won, people rioted in the streets. It was so chaotic that Em's friend was shot in the foot with a rubber bullet by police trying to break up the crowd.

I'm keeping a list of weird things I'm finding in Spain. Here are a few:
the lightswitches are huge. they're usually at least 1 inch x 1 inch squares.
the ambulances are yellow.
to flush the toilet, you either push or pull a button on the top of the loo.
to exit the metro trains, you have to push a button to open the door.
lights are usually off in residential building hallways. when you enter a building, you have to push a button to turn the light on.
more to come...

party til (past) the break of dawn

2008-06-25T08:38:00.021-05:00

I'm told each region in Spain has it's own special saint. For Catalunya (or Cataluna in Spanish), it's St. Joan. The Spanish also like to really celebrate the summer soltice and throw massive parties. The thing is, the Catholic Church doesn't really like that -- a party with no religious affiliation -- so to justify this really big soltice party, the Church decided to make it St. Joan day too. On Monday night, people all over Catalunya celebrated this Saint's special day by popping fireworks, drinking, and partying (in the most extreme sense of the word).

For my St. Joan's day, I went with my friends Jerel and Eva to a town 40 minutes by train outside of Barcelona called Arenys de Mar. A good move since I think the Barcelona would have been way too loud and out of control for me. We stayed at the house of one of Eva's friends. They had a lemon tree in their backyard! In fact, they had so many lemons that their dog, Duna, plays fetch with a lemon instead of a ball.

We made tapas for dinner, then, at midnight, went down to the beach. Everyone, young and old, were popping fireworks. It was a bit terrifying actually, some were so errant and low that I thought I was going to get hit more than once. Sometimes, they exploded underwater and looked like mini supernovas. Others looked like the fireworks that go off at Navy Pier in Chicago. After sitting by the sea for a few hours, we hopped in a few cars with some other peeps and went down to another beach. There, I felt like I stepped onto a movie set -- tiki torches, wooden mats on the sand, a small dancefloor, and a bar all faced the ocean. Apparently this is normal in Spain (normal?). When we got tired of that, we hopped in the car again and drove to another beach party that was out of control. People were dancing up a sand storm, drinking, and smoking weed (the abundance of marijuana here is amazing - i have yet to step in a house where they don't have their own plant). We were there until 8 in the morning, when we finally decided it was time to walk back to where we were sleeping.

Who parties on the beach to celebrate the start of summer as the sun comes up over the mountains? Me apparently. Seriously, who knew?

the street outside the house we stayed at at arenys de mar.

the view from the terrace of one of the houses we stopped at on our way to the beach.

a huge churro i bought at the first beach party. it was seriously like two inches wide and stuffed with chocolate cream. as much as i love churros, it was too much for me, if you can believe that.

some kid lighting a firework near me. that's the mediterranean sea to the left.

people dancing on the beach. the sun's coming up now.

the beach we were at, after the sun came up.

jerel and eva on our way back to barcelona the next day. i woke up at 4 p.m., eva cooked an awesome meal of pumpkin soup, couscous, and a moroccan curry dish, we got ready, then got on a train. that's the mediterranean sea out the window. that's right, the train runs along the coast here.

one, two, three. just do it.

2008-06-22T17:57:00.008-05:00

in all my 26 years, i don't think my breasts have ever seen the light of day. but that all changed on june 22, 2008, the day i went to my first nude beach. it was a day of many firsts actually. i left barcelona for the first time since i arrived and drove with my friends fernanda and albert (and their friend paolo) to sant pol de mar, about 60 km (40 minutes or so) away from my temporary home city. we drove along the coast, which was beautiful, as beuatiful as parts of hawaii, and through a few mountains. it was great company, and although i didn't understand what they were saying, being with people who are caring and open transcends language barriers.

i don't really understand why we don't have nude beaches in america. i expected to be shocked when i first arrived at the beach, but i think that's the reaction you expect you're going to have. when i actually got there, it wasn't a big deal, and within minutes, i took

my own top off (shocking no?). there were times when i remembered that i was actually topless, but there was no sense of shame or embarrassment for me today! i felt really at peace while swimming for the first time in the mediterranean sea. the water was so salty that i didn't have to try to float at all. some pictures are to the right.

after six or so hours at sant pol, we left to go to a barbeque in another town at a house in the mountains. the view is below. there, i didn't understand a lick of what was being said, but a few of us ended up watching the spain vs. italy football game, while other bbq guests sang songs (many of them english classics -- nirvana, frank sinatra) outside.

tomorrow i start language school. and it's st. joan, a huge holiday in spain. after class, i leave again for another town outside the city.

no growth comes with ease

2008-06-21T11:26:00.007-05:00

having been in barcelona for a week now, i can already feel myself changing, as ridiculous as that may seem. i can't really say that i've been depressed but life here has presented me with exciting and new challenges that come with a sense of aloneness -- not really loneliness. walking down the street, seeing cool, new things, without anyone to share them with, is hard. i look at awesome buildings and weird performers on Las Ramblas and i don't turn to anyone and say, "look at that". i've been forced to rely on myself to fill my day, to depend on myself to figure things out, and i feel good but alone. i know this is something i have to do, that my time here in europe will change my life (how overdramatic is that? but i think it's true), and i'm glad that i'm doing it. my friend bart says that no growth comes with ease, and i've taken that to heart. i have only myself to worry about, only myself to rely on, lessons i think are important to learn early in life.

being alone here doesn't mean that i haven't met great, new people with open and kind hearts. jerel, his wife, eva, fernanda, and her husband, albert, have all invited me into their homes. i feel like they've taken me under their wings and i'm grateful. back in chicago, i was so closed off, afraid and unwanting of meeting new folks, not really friendly but not unfriendly, but here, meeting these people, people from all over the world, makes me realize how stupid it is to be unfriendly to people. you never know what can come of it.

today, i went to read in a small green space near Las Ramblas, which has become my favorite part of the city. it's very touristy, full of people and vendors, which is why i think i love it right now, when i feel alone. i looked up from my book and saw this building, i don't know the name of it, but it's a building i wouldn't see in chicago, set against Port Vell, next to an incredibly tall -- maybe 50 feet -- statue of Christopher Columbus. i can't believe that i'm here in barcelona, that i'm living here, and not just on a vacation. i still haven't gone to the tourist sites -- sagrada familia, montjuic, all the gaudi stuff -- but i have 11 more weeks to do it, it's not like i don't have the time. i'm in a foreign city, and i'm not rushing around to see the sites. how awesome is that?

Arc de Triomf is on the left and the tops of some buildings are on the right. My friend, Jerel, says that this is where they held a world's fair.

Parc de la Cuitadella, the only big green space in Barcelona. I finished the new Sedaris book here yesterday.

A performer on Las Ramblas. Dooman was like David Bowie in Labyrinth, but on stilts.

Where I read today. I have no idea what that building is called.

leaving home

2008-06-16T17:37:00.005-05:00

i decided to leave my life in chicago -- my friends, my job, my apartment -- because life just kinda felt... stagnant. in the five years since i graduated from college, i feel not enough has changed in my life, but at the same time, i worry that my youth is slipping away. i didn't have a job i loved, each day felt like it was the same as the last, and i questioned whether i really know who i am and what i'm capable of. some, including myself, might call what i'm feeling a quarter-life crisis, and i need to get out of it. so when the timing was right in my personal life, i quit my job and bought a one-way ticket to barcelona, a city where i don't speak the language and don't know a single soul.

so here i am, on day four of my adventure, and things are getting better with each passing day. i remember sitting at the atlanta airport, trying to hold back tears and muster the courage to get on my connecting flight to barcelona. i remember being on the phone with my boyfriend, saying that i had to do this, but that i was terrified of actually going through with it. i won't lie and say that the first two days weren't hard. they were and it still is. it's hard to be in a city without anyone to share the new and exciting things you're experiencing. it's hard to go into a restaurant alone. it's hard to make new friends when you've relied on your old ones for so long.

but i think everyone has to do this, challenge themselves to be alone, to rely on only yourself, and in the upcoming weeks, i'll tell you how it's going. in the meantime, here are a few pictures.

Port Vell that leads to the Mediterranean Sea.

Plaza de George Orwell, who supported Cataluynan independence. Ironically, they've started installing video cameras here to monitor people.

I decided to take a photo of the most photographed arch in Barcelona. It's 20th Century but the two buidings it connects are 13th and 14th Century, respectively.

One of the many narrow streets in the labyrinth-like Barri Gotic, the Old City of Barcelona.

back from the dead

2008-05-30T16:45:00.004-05:00

I've decided to resurrect my blog. "Why?" you ask? Well, One) I feel much the same way I did a year or so ago, that I had to write more to become a better writer, and although my blogging never really gained any momentum, that doesn't stop a girl from trying; and Two) My life's changing at fast-forward speed, and I thought I'd write about it. Once things calm down a bit, I'll tell you all about it.

Bono

2007-03-29T18:03:00.000-05:00

From the New York Times:

yahman

2007-01-14T23:57:00.000-06:00

I wrapped myself in a blanket at my desk, thinking that this will make me more comfortable as I set out on my writing task, and thought to myself, I look like a shaman. But, come to think of it, I don't know what a shaman looks like, or what exactly a shaman is, just some inklings that it has something to do with magic and healing and that a character in His Dark Materials is a shaman, so I looked it up on wikipedia. This is the image attached to the article:

He's from a city in Russia called Kyzyl that claims to be located in the geographical center of Asia, again according to Wikipedia.

boom

2007-01-14T17:09:00.000-06:00

The Chicago Bears won their NFC divisional playoff against the Seattle Seahawks today, 24-21 in overtime. I missed the game because I was grocery shopping, though it's very unlikely I would have watched it anyway. Right now, for procrastination, I've got the Chargers vs. Patriots game on. It's Saturday and there's nothing else on TV to sit around and watch. I'm still having trouble with my story—not knowing what to concentrate on, what to cut out—and the game is distracting me from all that.

When I was in the third grade, I lived with my dad and my two half-brothers in a two-bedroom apartment in Waipahu. That year, I remember my pet fish falling to the floor while I was cleaning my fish tank—he died because he was flip-flopping around and I couldn't scoop him up to save him. I remember a night when they closed off my street because there was a hostage situation in the complex next to us. I remember lots of days playing Scrabble and Contra. And I remember my dad betting on football games, asking me what teams I thought would win so that he could bet on them, just like Homer and Lisa. Since then, I haven't watched much American football at all. I don't think my dad has either.

back at it

2007-01-13T18:25:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting here trying to write a story, but it's been so long since I've written anything that nothing much is coming out, or when it does, it takes an hour to shape a paragraph, and however gratifying that paragraph may be, the process is nevertheless frustrating. All this has led me to believe that I need to start writing again on a daily basis. Self-doubt shadows me. I read part of this book last night, a book that was given to me at the beginning of my fellowship last summer to help one write better, and it said that the only way to be a better writer is to write a certain number of words everyday... and even though you might not actually see any progess, at least you'll learn how to communicate your thoughts with words -- or something like that. So here I am, trying to reach an arbitrary 500 wordcount to learn how to manipulate words so that they can tell you what I think.

In college, I used to think that I was a good writer, and part of that is probably because I wrote a lot every week, especially during my senior year when I had a column, took a creative writing course, and started my attempts at freelancing for whatever outlets would take me. Since then, I've discovered, or admitted to myself, that I am not the freelancing-type: I am too afraid of rejection, not persistent enough, and also, perhaps, too lazy. I am not like those I know, or those that publications want, who will write a story without having the guarantee that it will be printed somewhere—I'd rather watch TV or a movie or read a book or compilation by someone whose writing I admire. Sometimes I think I'd be a better editor than writer—my personality is such—but writers get all the glory and maybe that's what I want too. No one tells an editor, "Hey, nice job on that story" or "I wish I could edit like you". Who knew I wanted glory?

Right now I've been re-reading profiles in the Gay Talese Reader that I bought maybe a year ago. Whenever I feel like I need some sort of inspiration, I've read other people to imitate them. At the fellowship, Alex Kotlowitz made me feel better because this is what he does too.

There's no truth to the media (or, alternatively, "I would think it would be great if NYT writers used the paper to write fake shit")

2006-10-19T18:32:00.000-05:00

I just spent a ridiculous amount of time watching Nick Sylvester give a guest lecture to a Harvard Law School class, which is pretty ridiculous in itself. You can watch it here. After the hour or so I've spent in front of my laptop watching a class in session, I wish I had participated more in college discussions, which I never really did because I thought that what I had to say was probably way off-mark or stupid. It makes me feel better that I was thinking the same things that those who challenged Sylvester were thinking, especially that older guy in the corner, who is awesome. (You'll have to dedicate a good chunk of your day watching this to get what I'm talking about here. I digress.)

Watching this lecture (at Harvard Law School, I can't say that enough! What class was this for? I probably missed that part) gave me a better sense of Syvlester and his point of view. Prior to this, I really had no idea who he was and had assumed he was a journalist who injected his pieces with a bit of humor, but who got caught as a jackass a fabricated part of a story and tried passing it off as truth. I thought he was a kid who just made shit up, but really, he says he's a guy who's exploring the boundaries of creativity and satire within the media. I learned that he has a blog, which, of what I've read, has its moments of funny. But that's the blogosphere and not traditional media where what's printed is assumed to be truth.

Sylvester, in my opinion, is a jackass who selfishly uses the power of the media for his own ends, which, you know, I guess could be good if you knew what those ends were, which Sylvester doesn't. He claims as much in his "lecture", saying that he doesn't know if his writing is meant to deceive people or not or what he really means to do with it other than explore - and he's taking us along for the ride. The Game piece, which got him *eventually* fired from The Voice, was supposed to be an article based on truth and not a satire. While I'm not saying that one shouldn't be able to be creative with one's writing, and that satire isn't a worthy form of entertainment and sometimes quite informative when done right, when you're writing for a paper like the Village Voice, when you have the opportunity to write for a paper as big as that, don't half-ass it. The best part is when he says that it would be great if writers at papers like the New York Times would use their opportunities to write articles not based on fact. There's also this weird part where he defends his actions by explaining that he wanted to take out a girl to nice dinners and that's why this whole thing happened. What makes me more mad about all this is that he's giving a lecture at Harvard Law School! Talk about taking care of their own. OK, maybe I'll post more when I get my thoughts more in order -- right now, I think I should feel indignant about the whole thing.

quick (music) thoughts (first in a while)

2006-09-23T13:00:00.000-05:00

I've been invited to participate in two different music-related/writing panels in the upcoming weeks, which has had the indirect effect of my questioning whether or not I should be a music writer, a question I've been pondering for quite some time. I mean, not that I ever intended to be a "music writer", it was just the easiest way to start writing for actual publications when I was in college and thereafter, and now that's how I've pigeon-holed myself. On each panel, there is at least one intimidating writer: the first is Hopper and the second is DiRogatis (sp?). Both are quite established in the music writing realm, are sources at their papers, and are known for what they do -- I am not. Will I ever get to where they are? I doubt it. Do I want to be where they are? I'm thinking no. I don't think I have the heart for making a career writing about why a certain song or band is bad or good and most of the time, I can't actually formulize reasons for my feelings toward something. I also think writing about music has kind of killed my once-love for it. It seems like a job now, to have to decide whether I want to cover it, and it sucks. Right now I have to go through a pile of CDs to decide what to cover for our winter issue, and I'm dreading it. Piles and piles of CDs, which may sound great to some, but after doing it for nearly three years, it gets to you. I'm such a complainer... though there's hope for me yet. I've enjoyed listening to some Ethiopian music, Bowie, Cash, and the new Lady Sov this morning.

you want some of this?

2006-06-11T19:10:00.000-05:00

shot and paying for it

2006-05-25T13:24:00.000-05:00

I was the victim of three shots yesterday -- two in the mouth and one in the arm.

I went to the dentist yesterday complaining of pain in one of my back teeth whenever i ate. After quite some time poking around my tooth with a tiny hook-shaped instrument and asking me if it hurt wherever she was poking, my dentist said I had a cracked filling. To fix it, she shot me up with novocaine twice, called me a baby for whining about it and told me i was a big girl (i'm serious), and then preceeded to drill into one of my back molars (#30 according to talk between her and the dental hygienist). The smell of tooth against drill -- the most awful and scary thing ever -- the grinding sound, the fact that I felt the drill skimming the nerves of my tooth, me lying there helpless and on top of that i paid 105 bucks for the whole thing. People always talk about how expensive health care is, but you never really think about oral care as health care. The hygienist reminded me that if I didn't have dental insurance, it would have cost me 200 instead of 105. Lucky me. Today, I can't open my mouth wide enough to eat couscous.

I've always been cursed with bad teeth, bad teeth in the sense that I have an invasion of cavities and fillings everywhere. I've always been amazed at people who say they've never had a cavity before. Why am I cursed?! I sometimes blame my weak teeth on my grandma, who used to put kool-aid in a bottle and have me drink from it. When I was younger, I had silver caps on my four, top front teeth (I don't know if that's cute or not, let's just say it was and that I was way ahead of the pack on the whole tooth grill bling thing) and remember when one of them fell out and I tried to put it back in. I was in the back seat of a car and it fell in my hand and I was a worrier even when I was six or seven. Most everyone in my family has bad teeth, a lot of them with dentures and partials, and hopefully I won't end up with the same. Rebelling against my destiny! There was talk yesterday of my needing a crown if the crack when far enough down my tooth -- the term root canal was also mentioned and though I don't know what that is exactly, I know that it is painful.

The third shot was my second Hepatitis A shot, which compared to huge needles penetrating my gums, making me numb, and making me think that I was going to swallow my own tongue, was nothing. I was like, bring it!

opinions

2006-05-23T12:28:00.000-05:00

it's been brought to my attention that no one comments on celebration and number one hits because of the impression that i don't want comments on celebration and number one hits. that is wrong.

substitution

2006-05-17T13:47:00.000-05:00

my boy's off touring europe right now and his bike sits in my living room. i can't ride it back to his place because it's a fixed gear and i will probably crash. so instead i need to walk it over, me and a fixie down logan boulevard together, maybe it'll be my substitute sam until the real one comes back.

fake plastic trees alive! i scored a ticket to one of the "intimate" radiohead shows here in june. though it is "limited view", i am located on balcony 1, which i don't presume to be very bad and makes me wonder if they'll be some sort of light rig in front of me. after minutes spent on ticketmaster, cursing the fucking system and how it made me go back to the events page because i had more than one browser open, i somehow managed to be one of the few that got a "limited seat" when they went on sale after the show had sold out of "regular" seats. i am excited but have entertained the idea of selling the ticket since i'll be out of a job in a month.

2006-05-15T16:02:00.000-05:00

little ones

2006-05-07T21:47:00.000-05:00

I celebrated a friend's birthday today. She turned 25, the same age I'll be in August. A quarter-century and I feel like I'm still a kid but don't really have a right to call myself that. Soon I'll be out of a job and then moving to a city where I've been told multiple times that the unemployment is pretty severe. I feel like I'm trying to hold onto youth but I want to grow up. I want to live with my love, I want a job I enjoy, I want to not have to worry about money a lot of the time... but I also just want to sit around, be young, hang out, read for fun or watch tv and movies all day. I wanna be high-school Kristina without the worries I have but the Kristina I am today. I'm listening to Andrew Bird and he's making me wish I could write some songs and play some instruments.

I was at a party on Friday where some kids in bands played music in a dark, carpeted basement. During the second band I saw, I thought about how this is something people probably did in high school. Were those kids trying to hold onto youth too? The cops busted up the party and a kid got arrested for peeing on a squad car.

I'm glad it was the opposite of this today. Someone, ahem, got a hole-in-one in mini-golf.

China, revisited

2006-05-05T10:56:00.000-05:00

In light of the China vs. the Pope situation, here are more pictures from my trip.

We're in China!

A huge statue of Mao in Lijiang (it was probably 60 feet tall).

Jake looking up what we should do next in China; Kristina drinking tea. matchy-matchy.

A zen temple in Kunming.

Chris with his 25-cent sunglasses.

Goodness gracious Great Wall of China.

More photos to come, along with a day-by-day summary, when I can get to it.

living the american dream

2006-05-03T16:10:00.000-05:00

This is a photo of me and my dad at the Hoover Dam. We drove there from Las Vegas, where we met last year for his birthday. We stayed at the Flamingo Hotel for free because he's a VIP member and I got my first -- and only -- massage that weekend. My masseur and I were poolside and I was uncomfortable the entire time.

Yesterday was the May Day Immigrant March and Rally in Chicago or "A Day Without an Immigrant".

My dad immigrated to the United States back in the early 70s (I think). He joined the Navy while he was a kid in the Phillipines after he and his older brother, my Uncle Sendong, took a test to see if they were smart enough to be a part of the Navy. According to my dad, they were taking only a limited amount of Filipinos, like 100 or something, to be a part of the Navy. My dad was smart enough, my Uncle Sendong didn't end up passing this test, and my dad got to be a U.S. citizen. The trade-off was that he had to fight in the Vietnam War. Well not fight, since my dad said that all the Filipinos were delgated to tasks like cleaning up and cooking for the white guys. He was stuck on big ships but got to travel the world and says that being in the Navy was one of the best times in his life.

My dad being my dad moved up in the Navy ranks and became a mechanic and fixed submarines. He ended up in Hawai'i where he worked at the shipyard, fixing things there and carrying heavy things. He injured his back, retired, and has been in pain ever since.

Yesterday, during one of usual two-minute conversations, my dad asked me if there were more rallies today.

Kristina: No, that was yesterday.
Dad: OK.
Kristina: Why?
Dad: I just want to know.
Kristina: So dad... what do you think about this whole immigration thing?
Dad: I think they should deport all of them.
Kristina: Dad, why?
Dad: They should come here legally, they came here illegally. They should come over like us, legally, and wait. It was hard for us to come here.
Kristina: OK.

What am I supposed to say to that that doesn't disrepect and discount all that my dad went through to give me the life I have? Normally, I would have said, exasperated, "Dad!"