Winter Break Reading List*

1. The Golden Compass, by Philip Pullman (so U. still loves me, and so I can see the movie)
2. Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card (so I can communicate with half the people at UChicago)
3. Rabbit, Run, by John Updike (so A. can finally talk about it with someone)
4. something by Nietzsche

Maybe:

1. Guns, Germs, and Steel, by Jared Diamond (Dad X-mas gift?)
2. something by Jane Austen or otherwise Victorian, romantic, and unrealistic

Currently reading:

• The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri
• The Origin of Humankind, by Richard Leakey (which is really not as weighty as it sounds)
  

*subject to additions and alterations

I might major in anthropology. Surprise, life!

feels like

The biggest accomplishment in life
Is how far one person moves
From the first one
Loved.

I want your... A's.

Thank you, George Michael... for getting me through the academic pain that is exam week(s).

Today was good. Not amazing, but good. Steady. And with brownies.

thanks, connie

1. ONE OF YOUR SCARS, HOW DID YOU GET IT?
Near the top of my right (from my line of view) thigh--I slid down a giant rock in our backyard when I was 4ish. I don't remember why there was a giant rock in our backyard, but it was taken away soon afterward.

2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?
Depressingly, nothing. Most of my posters are ruined from the move and I haven't gotten new ones yet slash plastered it with pictures.

3. WHAT DOES YOUR CELL PHONE LOOK LIKE?
One of those Cingular "go" phones. It's supposed to be temporary but I've had it for like 6 months.

4. WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
Lately angry girl music, emotional girl music, Okkervil River and Beck

5. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
I think it was 4:41PM. It was 4:something PM.

6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
To know what I want.

7. WHO DO YOU MISS?
My sister, and a guy I can never have a functional relationship with.

10. WHAT'S YOUR MIDDLE NAME?
Claire

11. THE BEST TV SHOW EVER CREATED:
I'm pretty sure I haven't seen it yet. But if you ask Audrey, Arrested Development.

12. THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO?
The cashier at CVS.

13. DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
Sometimes. If I think about ghosts.

14. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
Let's not go there.

15. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOGNE / PERFUME?
Whatever I use. "Life" or something.

16. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
The hair should be kind of unkempt somehow. All eyes are nice, really.

17. WOULD YOU RATHER BE SMART OR FUNNY?
Uhh. Smart? I don't know. How smart or how funny? You can be smart and dramatic, but funny alone is sort of a sad catch. In fact, you sort of have to be smart to be funny.

18. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINKS?
Latte.

19. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PIZZA TOPPING?
Sometimes they'll do tomatoes, which can be good. Or onions.

20. IF YOU CAN EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Maybe cold rice pudding.

21. WHO IS THE LAST PERSON YOU MADE MAD?
Um. I don't know. I think I marginally irritated my mom recently.

22. DO YOU SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE?
I try to speak Hindi sometimes. I played with Chinese for a while, was more successful I think.

23. WHAT WAS THE FIRST GIFT SOMEONE EVER GAVE YOU?
My bunny blankey, which was heinously thieved by the bastards at Learn 'N' Play. I'm still inconsolable.

24. DO YOU LIKE SOMEONE?
Yeah, in vein. I also love someone, but that doesn't work either. I fail.

25. ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
No.

26. FAVORITE CLOTHING BRAND?
The kind without the logo on the clothing.

27. WHAT'S YOUR DREAM CAR?
Prius.

28. WHAT COLOR IS IT?
Um. Silver.

29. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF EXERCISE?
Dancing. Bad, bad dancing.

30. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
No, I would stop myself. wtf? Come on, survey. Clearly rational circumstances have little to do with my feelings.

31. WHAT IS THE BEST WAY TO TELL SOMEONE HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO YOU?
Love them unconditionally.

32. SAY A NUMBER FROM ONE TO A HUNDRED:
49.

33. BLONDES OR BRUNETTES?
Redheads.

34. WHAT IS THE ONE NUMBER YOU CALL OFTEN?
Upekha, maybe. Mostly text, though, because we already live together. And I hate phones.

35. WHAT ANNOYS YOU MOST?
My recent perpetual self-consciousness.

35. HAVE YOU BEEN OUT OF THE U.S.?
Germany. And Canada. And Amsterdam. And Austria, but barely.

36. YOUR WEAKNESSES?
Attractive and intimidating males.

37. TATER TOTS OR FRIES?
Fries. This is stupid.

38. FIRST JOB?
Hastings Public Library, as a page. And I'm still shelving now. Eeugh.

39. EVER PRANK CALLED SOMEONE?
I think I have, in the 14-ish age range at a sleepover, but I doubt I was successful. I've been prank-called, that was more interesting.

40. WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE YOU FILLED OUT THIS?
Practicing Hindi at no one. Then listening to music.

41. IF YOU COULD GET PLASTIC SURGERY WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Um, no. Not ever.

42. WHY DID YOU FILL OUT THIS SURVEY?
I have to fulfill my goal and post something but I have nothing to say right now.

43. WHAT DO YOU GET COMPLIMENTED ABOUT MOST?
People like when I wear my hair down.

44. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF ALCOHOL BECAME ILLEGAL?
Continue drinking it when available. I mean, it's already illegal for me.

45. WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY?
For you to call. That's it.

46. HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT?
Maybe two or three. Probably more like two.

47. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
Not really, but my dad likes to think a great-grandmother Emma and a different one Clara. Really though, a girl in my sister's second-grade class.

48. DO YOU WISH ON STARS?
I don't think so, no. I wish on other stuff sometimes.

49. WHICH FINGER[S] IS YOUR FAVORITE?
Ring, I think. It's pretty & unassuming.

50. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY?
A couple weeks ago-ish. Wasn't a really good cry, though.

51. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Yes, usually.

52. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Tofu.

53. ANY BAD HABITS?
Generally, not caring enough to devote my full attention to things.

54. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING CD ON THE SHELF?
I have some of the earliest NOW's--before there were like 357. Also a Smash Mouth CD. It's at home, though.

55. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Not lately.

56. HAVE YOU EVER TOLD A SECRET YOU SWORE NOT TO TELL?
Of course.

57. DO LOOKS MATTER?
In terms of attraction, yeah. If there's no chemistry, there's little to be done.

58. HOW DO YOU RELEASE YOUR ANGER?
I grind my teeth. A lot. In my sleep, too. And I get a lot of tension headaches. Not much of a release, if you ask me. Which you did, kind of.

59. WHERE IS YOUR SECOND HOME?
In Michigan.

60. DO YOU TRUST OTHERS EASILY?
No, not really at all.

61. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD?
I had this lamb. Also one of those glow worm things, I think.

62. HOW MANY NUMBERS ARE IN YOUR CELL PHONE?
I don't know--25?

63. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
OK, seriously.

64. DO YOU KNOW ANYONE FAMOUS?
Mmm, no. I know people who know famous people, though.

65. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A MOSH PIT?
Yes, at the Flogging Molly show. It was involuntary and painful and sort of terrifying.

66. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
Untapped depth.

67. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?
Em, Emmy, Emchen, Emilchen, Emface, Emshum. I guess the "Em" is compulsory.

68. HOW MANY PAIRS OF SHOES DO YOU HAVE?
5, maybe. 6?

69. DO YOU UN-TIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
About half the time.

70. WERE YOU UPSET ABOUT STEVE IRWIN DYING?
Actually, yeah, I really was. I didn't cry or anything, but I was disturbed. It was weird.

71. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
French Silk--the chocolate mousse kind, not the coffee one. It's hard to find.

72. ARE YOU LAZY?
Kinda, yeah.

73. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE COLORS?
Deep greens.

74. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BAND?
That's too transitory. I love Okkervil right now.

75. HOW MANY WISDOM TEETH DO YOU HAVE?
All of them. Dental appt next month, I'm not looking forward to being told they need to be removed.

76. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
I don't care.

77. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
"For Real" by Okkervil River. Question #74 reminded me.

78. LAST THING YOU ATE?
Granola & milk. Mm, dinner.

79. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
My mom, who was asking if I've heard from my sister a-freakin'-gain.

80. WHATS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Probably whether they're noticing me. Or how much they're requiring attention.

81. FAVORITE THOUGHT PROVOKING SONG:
I like most of the Shins' stuff for their lyrics.

82. FAVORITE THING TO HATE:
Critics of global warming.

83. FAVORITE DRINK:
Tea.

84. FAVORITE ZODIAC SIGN
I like mine--Sagittarius. It's like a centaur with a bow and arrow. Pretty badass.

85. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SPORT?
I miss volleyball, kind of.

86. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR?
"Dirty" blonde.

87. EYE COLOR?
Green.

88. DO YOU WEAR GLASSES?
Recently, because of my myriad eye issues.

89. SIBLINGS?
John & Gina.

90. FAVORITE MONTH(s)
I usually like March, and June, and October. Sometimes December.

91. DO YOU LIKE SUSHI?
Yes.

92. LAST THING YOU WATCHED?
Manhattan Murder Mystery.

93. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
I'm fond of the new year. Sometimes I really like Halloween.

94. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT?
I don't know--I usually just let the other person lead this part and act according to how I feel. I should become assertive. There's my problem!

95. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Autumn.

96. KISSES OR HUGS?
Kisses.

97. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE-NIGHT STANDS?
The former.

98. WHO IS THE MOST LIKELY TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
No one. I don't know.

99. WHO IS THE LEAST LIKELY TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
BLaah.

100. Create your own question! (Oo, so interactive!)

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO TELL SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?
Don't lose me. Don't put me where you won't find me again.

101. IS ANYONE IN LOVE WITH YOU?
No indeeeed.

too tired for titles

I keep forgetting I technically only have 3 days of "school" left this quarter.

Probably because the next week and a half--or maybe just the next 3 days--are going to be painfully full of obligation. Here's what I have to do (mostly for my benefit, so it's all written down somewhere)---

Monday: ENST assignment due; Hindi composition & five other homework(s) due; work 4:30-7:30
Tuesday: Bio quiz; Bio writing assignment due; Hindi discussion section; Hindi dialogue recitation
Wednesday: INST discussion section (articles need to be read); Hindi final exam

I'm done for tomorrow, but utterly unprepared for Tuesday/Wednesday. Might have to be late on the bio writing. Might have to cry a little during the Hindi dialogue.

Sigh.

Good news about today:

1) I made tomato noodle soup, almost without having to buy any ingredients (needed basil & non-moldy red pepper.)
2) I did my imminent homework.
3) I watched a good movie, called Manhattan Murder Mystery. I might soon go on a Woody Allen filmography self-education spree.

My brain/heart/soul is telling me to sleep. So much to do. But. I might listen.

bathtub uncertainty.

I love Chicago. I love baths. I love reading. I love reading in my bathtub in Chicago.

Now that we're up to date.

I am reading "The Namesake"--which is decently good but not lifechanging--and something I (also) love happened: the character's life intersected with mine. I just got to the part where Gogol (or Nikhil) Ganguli is taking a train home for Thanksgiving break, his sophomore year. He feels the same way about home that I do, is at a comparable university a comparable distance from home, and, well, the author is making him easy to relate to.

Which led to my epiphany. It has nothing to do with any of the crap I just mentioned. Rather, it came to me as I read about him veering from others' expectations and becoming enthralled with architecture, studying it feverishly, even outside of class work. Why? Because he loves it.

I thought of what I loved, what I found most inspiring this quarter. It wasn't in a class for either of my registered majors. It was in, of all places, biology, when my professor talked at length about human evolution. I love learning about human evolution--all the different hominids, where they lived, what they did, the slow progress into modern humans. It fascinates me.

Then I had this thought: I should major in anthropology.

It was jarring, in the way most "I should make this big change" ideas tend to be. But at the same time, it sounded remarkably freeing.

The truth is, lately I've felt boxed-in and depressed in thinking about the future. Before, it would always suffice to imagine myself reading and researching and writing--that was vague and lovely enough. But I'm a second-year college student now. I'm supposed to be more specific than that. International Studies I'm OK with, although the intro class is less than inspiring (who can blame it, though, 120+ people large and power-point-based?)

With Environmental Studies, I feel like I signed on with some kind of Save-the-World syndrome. It's definitely my biggest issue, but.. it doesn't fascinate me. As selfish as I feel saying that, wouldn't you be most productive in the field that drives you? The environment needs creative engineers, lawyers, and activists. And my vote.

I miss the humanities.

All this synthesis and all I end up with is: I'm happiest just sitting here writing. If you know someone that'll pay me to do that, lemme know.

Happy Buy Nothing Day!

Sadly, today was not Buy Nothing Day for me.

I needed a winter coat. And when I say "needed", I mean the pockets on my last one looked like they'd been attacked by a pack of savage wolves. So it was off to the mall for me.

Here's a confession: I hate shopping.

I hate mall girls and their mall boyfriends. I hate mall moms and their mall children. I hate watching people buy loads of plastic shit for people who already have too much plastic shit. I hate seeing the bloodthirsty look on middle-aged women's faces as they pluck $5 on-sale DVD's from the shelf. This is not spiritual.

If you're gonna be a spiritual Christian, I'd recommend spending your Christmas season abstaining from materialism. Nobody ever saw Jesus at a Target.

(Ahem.)

My mom likes to shop. She hovers toward make-up counters and inquires about "free gifts". It makes me cranky and headachey and depressed. Cranky because I have to walk all over and feel bored. Headachey because it's total sensory over-stimulation. Depressed because I too often feel drawn to the crap around me. And because 28th Street is all chain stores, zero personality.

Thankfully, the coat was the only mall thing we needed. There was a fair amount of furniture shopping (re: mom's apartment) but I sat in the car and worked on Hindi homework.

I have so much Hindi homework. Sigh.

Tonight I went to Kristin's and then to the coffee house and saw some people, which made me feel better. I can feel so disconnected in this town, but I will never feel uncomfortable in my coffee house. Good thing I should be picking up some hours over winter break.

Tomorrow morning I'll be going back to Chi. I've been gone all of 30 hours and still going back seems relieving. I am so easily affected by my environment. So the opposite of zen. I should work on that.

Oh, and I just realized today that my birthday falls on a Friday this year. What a waste. (On the upside, that means I'll be turning twenty-one on a Saturday!) Regardless, I'm thinking of possibly spending it in Chicago before coming back for break. It just seems like a better place to celebrate. Even if it's just me and the Thing in the cupboard.

Maybe someone will be around. T. might be. Eh. I'm on the fence.

I still have a headache. And gobs of Hindi homework.

Mmn. Hastings.

thank-u for all the tof-u

OK--so it's actually the 23rd; 12:25AM on the 23rd, to be specific. But I'm still up, so I count today as yesterday. Which means I'm still writing every day. Which pleases me.

I'm in Michigan, of course. I enjoyed a wonderfully birdless Thanksgiving, which amounted to two kinds of potatoes and green bean casserole. Not exactly a feast, but I was just thankful (you have to do that, right?) to be fed by someone other than myself. Still, I count watching my dad carve the golden, steaming turkey as the low point of vegetarianism. (More on vegetarianism later.)

My mom took me to see her new apartment which was empty and really sort of depressing. She acts excited about it, but I simply can't imagine living in such a large space, in such an empty region, alone. Especially in my mid-fifties. I can tell it scares her, too. I guess the fact that she's only living here another year and a half is enough for her--she has books enough to fill a library and that'll keep her occupied. As well as the apparent retail therapy she's been undergoing.

Mom: "All I bought was that chair. And an upright Swedish clock. For five hundred dollars."
Me: "A. A clock. For. Five hundred? Dollars?!"
Mom: "Well I don't have to pay it all back until next June..."

My dad also gave me the shock of the century when I asked him, amidst a pleasant conversation on the relative merits and demerits of Ron Paul, who he planned on voting for. Not Guiliani. Not McCain. Not Romney. Not even can-do-no-wrong, Gift-to-the-Populous Ron Paul. No. No.

Hillary.

Dad?! A DEMOCRAT?!!

Politics and clocks aside... however strange and fragmented my family is right now, it's still nice to come back to a place where everybody is excited to see me. I took advantage of the situation and unleashed the wittier, attention-seeking aspect of my personality, which has been paralyzed in hiding for a while now. I don't care that it's just my parents--at least I'm making somebody laugh.

Re: Mexico/Florida--my mother has something up her sleeve. I don't want to divulge until I know for sure, as she has some pretty deep sleeves and is known to lose things up there, but her current plan is even more lovely. I take it with a grain of salt.

there's a Thing in our cupboard

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, listening to something that's about ten feet away, under our sink, having what sounds like his own personal party.

This is what I hear:
"Psssh. Psh. Pssshh." (I assume this is wading through plastic bags)
SCRATCHSCRRTCHSCRATCHSCRRRTCHZ. (digging to China. Or through our apparently not-so-protective cardboard+duct-tape, hole-in-the-wall barrior.)
Shshsh, Shshshshshsh. (Quiet, slow moving around.)

These aren't cockroach noises.

If T. wasn't halfway to England right now, if he was securely and dependably studying Korean in his room through the wall to my right, I could ask him to investigate. He would open the cupboard door. If it wasn't the day before Thanksgiving, if I wasn't alone in a deserted, mournful, dangerous, gray and rainy Hyde Park, I'm sure I could call on a few others as well. As it stands, it's just me and those two closed, wooden, mocking cupboard doors.

On another front--

November gets me down. November and February. They're just two months I have to grind my teeth and soldier through, months that deeply acquaint me with the color gray, months that coin a certain kind of depression I sometimes feel. It isn't all everything personal that's going on around me right now. But it may be the long-term accumulation of personal things that I've avoided dealing with. Nevertheless, I've just felt down.

After talking to my mom, though, I feel a little better. That's because she floated this possibility: post-Christmas getaway in Mexico/Florida Keys/somewherewithsun.

Normally--how corny.
Now--how necessary.

...dare I dare to hope?

My Lovely Lady Lumps

At the risk of seeming creepy (or, as Lawrence Ferlinghetti would say, "constantly risking absurdity") I walked into the women's restroom in the Reynold's Club yesterday morning with the intention of taking a picture in one of the stalls....




There are references to sisterhood. And nail polish. And the insufficient behavior of men. People gleefully talk about shopping, and our apparent natural tendency toward it. They bemoan the pain of baby-delivering, and emphasize the importance of remembering birthdays and buying diamonds. Oh, and, one word: shoes.

Culture speaks to your gender as if it already knows you, and women pick up the trend. People forever try to weave a thread through every woman in the room, or company, or country, letting us know what we have in common and how we stand in solidarity.

Rarely do I feel the tug of that thread, but standing in a bathroom stall reading a flyer for “Love Your Body Week”, taking in the responses, I did. I felt downright giddy.

It was all there.

The Cheerfully Sincere--“My Eyes!”
The Confident & Sexy--“My hips”; “My curves”
The Intellectual--“My mind”
The Shocking--"My clit"; "My penis"
The Practical--"My strength & flexibility"
The Irreverent--"My left elbow"; "My left fallopian tube"
The Vain--"My breasts, my nipples, my butt!"

Women are not tied together with shoes, or shopping, or purses--don't try to lump us that way, because it isn't going to work. We don't all have babies. Or want diamonds. Or hate men. Or love men.

But we do all go to the same room to pee. And if you ask a question on a paper in a stall, all kinds of woman are going to scramble in their bags for a pen and let you know their opinion.

It's in the bathroom stall, and not Victoria's Secret, that I feel the solidarity.

Express Yo'self

So,

for anyone (un)fortunate enough to tune into my life/blog between the hours of 4:45PM 11/18/07 and 12:00PM 11/19/07, you now know about my Mess. Congratulations. I figured it would be short-lived, and decided to remove the post today when I asked Connie where it fell on a scale of one-to-ten from Too Open to Way, Way, Far Too Open and she gave it a seven.

Oh, I'm wild.

In other news, last night I went to A's dorm to paint with her and Kyle. I needed to do something like that, or I would have Expressed Myself some other, less intelligent way. Like painting my ceiling black.

K. had a lovely set of canvases, and a lovely set of tempera paints. He covered the floor with The Maroon and an old Newsweek full of adverts for drugs--("Do you ever feel sad? Lonely?" beside a frowning white blob)--and put on painting music. Which was Caribou. Terrific painting music.

The only thing I felt like painting was a dog eating itself. So I did. Remarkably therapeutic.





In other news, I've decided I need Goals and Projects to help with the lack of inspiration I feel in my life. My first Goal is to write daily for a month. We'll see if it works/helps.

My computer's about to die and I'm battery-less, so I suppose that's all for now.

updatez

This quarter has found me something of a mess. Hence my infrequent updating. Hence the heaviness on my chest (which you didn't know about, but now you do.) Hence etc.

The upshot is--I'll get over it. Obviously.

Now for some (none-too-personal, but still totally intriguing) of what you missed:

a) I have very special eyes, apparently. I had an appointment with the... ophthalmologist? Or, to be really specific--the contact lens eye doctor. Actually, I guess she's the president of the American Contact Lens Association, or something fancy like that. She's kind of a big deal. Anyway, because the U of C hospital is kind of a big deal too, I got an appointment with her to be fitted for new, less irritating contacts.

I got poked a great deal by the intern, who told me I had spherical eyes (good, normal) and it wasn't a problem with the shape. The doctor, however, when she finally came in, had something of a panic attack when she started messing with my eyes. "LOOK AT THIS!" she instructed the intern, as I stared into my own large green glassy iris as reflected in a bright light. The intern cooed, impressed. "We need to get her out of her contacts, now," the doctor said.

So here's what's been wrong with my eyes: I had blood vessels growing down into my cornea. My eyes have been, effectively, starved of oxygen because of the contacts--because they have, evidently, "unusually high oxygen demands." Me & my unusually high demands. In addition to this, I have some kind of semi-intense mysterious allergy for which I've been using drops since a few months ago (and which has gone down). And, on top of those things, I had infiltrates--my corneas were apparently inflamed and had accumulations of white blood cells.

Amazing.

The doctor suspended my contact lens use, and gave me strange whitish drops to help my eyes get oxygen. She floated some possibilities--Tigasons, pinkeye--and made me another appointment (which was last Tuesday). Due to my white drops + allergy drops + no contacts regimen, things are back to normal and I'm getting fitted next week for special contacts that deliver oxygen better...somehow. I also have to change my solution (she said something about hydrogen peroxide) and keep using all sorts of drops. But I'm glad. I effing hate wearing glasses all the time. They're so... obstructive.

I don't know why I wrote about that in such detail. Except that it's obviously vividly fascinating.

b) If you get a chance to eat out soon, and you have some opportunity for variety...

...eat Korean food.

Last Saturday I went with some friends to Koreatown (which happens to be waaay-the-hell that way from where we live--think switching from bus, to train, to different train, then walking a mile). It's located in Chicago's Northwest side, nestled amongst a spattering of different immigrant communities. The walk takes you past a legion of Middle Eastern places with Arabic signs, then past a number of Spanish signs, until you're in Asialand. The left is finally on Bryn Mawr, and then everything is in Korean, and everyone looks Korean. We went to the Tofu House, because my friends love me enough to cater to my wayward vegetarian ways.

And oh. The experience of it.

It was small and unassuming at first, but the waitress sat us in our own personal room, with a rolled-up bamboo-like door, in case we wanted privacy. She brought us warm tea (instead of water) and heavy menus. We ordered 1) vegetable tofu soup (me), 2) miso tofu soup, and 3) two bip-bim-bops. My soup came literally boiling in a heavy metal or stone bowl--with a raw egg for me to crack into it myself, and with a side of rice in same sort of bowl, the bottom layer deliciously hardened and steamed. Everything else came similarly boiling, and she placed all kinds of pickled things for everyone in the middle of the table.

The soup was amazing, thrilling, wonderful. It was spicy but not too spicy. It was thick with vegetables. But the best thing was the tofu. Somehow, this place had managed to make the tofu really good.

Now, I eat a lot of tofu. And I will be the first to say that it's not exactly the food of the gods. But this soup--this tofu--I've craved every day since last weekend.

It came down to about $10 per person.

c) I got a new iPod, and now whenever I walk anywhere, whatever mood I'm in, I want to hear one song: "Unless It's Kicks" by Okkervil River. It's a wonderful walking song. It's a wonderful anything song.

d) My hair got longer.

thursday night, being.

I am on my fifth samosa of the evening. And it's delicious.

I am learning so much.

I am alone. I've been alone so long. But it's time for a new perspective on alone.

One thing I've learned: 1) You belong.

I am alone. Alone but free.

our cracking bones make noise.

Today somebody took my chair. At work. I usually sit in this tall chair where mostly I read or tell people when to use treadmills, but when I got there today... it was gone.

"I've been dethroned," I thought to myself. Which struck me as really annoying, but also funny. Who steals a person's chair?

We finally have internet. Tonight a really friendly guy (let's call him Sal) came and fixed everything. Sal is the sort of guy that is perfectly suited for grandfatherhood. He would whistle and say, "Boy, not good," and then repeat it five more times to himself, a little quieter each time and maybe sung slightly the last time. He had me go down with him to the electrical box on our building--where all the veins of the building go, the inhuman, shiny power that runs everything--and when it was all opened up, he flashed the light and saw that our yellow and black wires weren't alone. Something like four other parasitic wires were attached, leaching away our DSL. He cut them off.

Now I'm wrapped in a blanket and listening to "99 Luftballoons" on repeat and thinking about how comfortable the German language sounds to me. In nine months I'll see my mom's side of the family again. I want to learn to communicate a few things in German other than "strawberry" and "milk" and "the little night music". I don't even like strawberries.

If I'm not actually saying anything, it's because I'm wholly drained. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. I can think of other things my heart is like. A hand grenade. A stick of butter.

Next weekend I'm sitting home with a book and a cup of tea. I am not touching alcohol. Some things should change a little.

one (wo)man wrecking machine

I am allergic.