readingkiki

it's over (sort of)

2007-07-10T07:03:00.000-07:00

that's it, i'm fed up with blogger and i'm moving to wordpress. never thought i'd say that, but i was encouraged to move my work blogs to wordpress, and i'm very impressed with all the exciting tools and techie features.
so after two years with blogger, it's time for a change of scenery. from now on you can find me at readingkiki.wordpress.com. change your bookmark and RSS feed right now! and i'll see you on the dark side.

done and done

2007-07-09T17:26:00.000-07:00

i finally finished "the historian" yesterday. it took me longer than usual because i couldn't even pick up the damn thing after it got dark, or really even when it started to get dark. (side note:this is one of the hazards of living alone - you can't read scary books or watch scary movies because you will swear there's someone waiting for you behind the shower curtain.)

overall it was a pretty enjoyable book. more in the "da vinci code" category than what i usually read, but entertaining nonetheless. it was well-written and obviously well-researched, but it was just a bit too pulpy for my taste. it's perfect beach reading, partly because it just falls in that category and partly because dracula would never come out to the beach on a sunny day.

currently listening to: grateful dead, aoxomoxoa

one of these things is not like the other

2007-07-08T13:43:00.000-07:00

just before vacation, i bought my very own digital camera. i love my camera. it's easy to use, it takes good pictures, and it's pink. the only problem is that my new pink camera did not come with a case. i've been carrying it around in a plastic bag so it doesn't get scratched.

yesterday, the pink camera and i headed to indiana to visit a friend and escape my overheated apartment.

"sara," i said as we perused the deliciously air conditioned aisles at jo anne fabrics, "i have been wanting to make a case for my new pink camera. you are a sewing goddess; could you help me with a little project?"

"of course!" she said, and led me straight to the 20-cent fabric bin.

first we picked out a nice bright blue felt, and then some cute orange floss for the stitching. when we got home i used the plastic bag as a pattern to cut out the design, and i stitched it up with my own two hands. i even sewed two snaps on the top so my special pink camera won't fall out. i felt very crafty and resourceful. check it out:

this morning i took the train back home and met my mom for lunch on her way to michigan for a few days. after lunch mom and i walked back to her car. she had two gifts for me: one was a window fan for my oven, um, apartment, and the other was a cute, quilted bag.

"cute fabric!" i said when she handed it to me. "what is it? did you make it?"

"it's a camera case," she said. "i made it for your new pink camera."

look at how adorable this is:

and now look at it next to the one i made:

sigh. tell me again why i didn't inherit the sewing genes?

now i'm REALLY cool

2007-07-07T08:47:00.000-07:00

i knew i picked the right profession. the new york times finally picked up on the fact that librarians are cool.

a day in the life

2007-07-04T14:54:00.000-07:00

i was inspired by liesl's post about our walking tour, so i decided to take advantage of my day off to share a tour of my neighborhood, chicago's historical uptown. first, though, a quick detour to chinatown.

this is my el stop, where i wait for the train every day (often multiple times a day).

i've taken this shot tons of times before, but i always love it.

i stopped by my favorite chinatown store for a few fun things.

back in uptown.

my apartment is about three blocks from some of the best venues in the city, including the green mill, al capone's old haunt and the best jazz club around;

the beautiful (but shuttered) uptown theater;

the riv;

and the aragon ballroom.

a fantastic choice of colors for a house.

under the el and looking toward the loop.

a peek into graceland cemetery, where mies van der rohe, potter palmer, louis sullivan, and a chorus of other famous chicagoans are buried.

looks like someone wants to get into the cemetary a bit early, huh?

a chance to cool off on a hot day.

ah, home sweet home.

thanks for sharing my day off with me! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did.

sometimes i've believed as much as six impossible things before breakfast

2007-07-03T20:13:00.000-07:00

after today's new york times excitement (and a reprint in the boston globe), i headed over to the lookingglass theatre to see lookingglass alice, a wonderfully imaginative play based on "through the looking glass" and "alice in wonderland." i actually saw the play a few years ago, and i was so impressed that i wanted to make sure to see it again. i dragged a friend along with me (theater and dining out are two things that are always better when shared) and we were both blown away by the acrobatics and sheer brilliance of the production. if you ever get a chance to see this play, drop everything and go.
when i got home later i picked up the book i've been reading, "the historian" by elizabeth kostova. the funny thing about this book is that normally i would have finished it days ago because it is a quick, easy read, but i am terrified to read this book at night! i have absolutely no belief in vampires or dracula, but for this book has somehow succeeded in scaring me out of my wits and making me jump at every noise in my apartment.
how interesting, i thought about this juxtaposition, that i enjoy letting my imagination run wild with alice and the mad hatter, but when it comes to dracula i absolutely refuse to let my mind wander. the craziness and hilarity of the lookingglass seem so innocent compared with the blood and gore of "the historian," and yet they are both incredible works of the human imagination. where and how do we decide to draw the line of what we chose to enjoy? and is it even a choice, or is it something deeper than that?
whew, that's enough deep thinking for today. i'm looking forward to my day off tomorrow and a chance to catch up on some errands and also do a few fun things i've been looking forward to: a quick stop in chinatown, a visit to the new installation at columbia, and fireworks as seen from a rooftop on the west side.
and maybe even a chance to finish my book (just as long as it's sunny and the vampires can't come out).

currently listening to: mocean worker, cinco de mowo!

this is IT

2007-07-03T09:37:00.000-07:00

guess who is on the front page of the new york times this morning: US! read it here and be sure to watch the video. shakeela is a woman we helped, and through organizing other RYM Tech victims, NTIC froze felix daniels' assets and banned him from practicing in illinois, and now he's awaiting criminal prosecution from the state.

good times

2007-06-27T18:15:00.001-07:00

ahhhh, vacation. i got back last night from a relaxing but exciting vacation to the east coast. some highlights:

watching my youngest niece suck down most of her mom's decaf mocha frappe (start 'em young, i always say).

a walking tour of the brooklyn bridge and lower manhattan, blogged by my biggest sis here.

dinner and delicious ice cream with my old roommate on friday night.

saturday morning at MoMA and a walk down fifth avenue to the new york public library and times square.

more ice cream and a stroll with liesl on a warm manhattan evening.

sunday afternoon at the grounds for sculpture just outside of princeton. yes todd, this is high art:

a day trip to philadelphia to see ben franklin's print shop and museum.

my 2 1/2 year old niece complaining while we waited for our food about how hungry she was and then letting out the biggest laugh i've ever heard when her plate of rice finally came.

playing freeze tag in the backyard with my niece and nephew and realizing that i'd just been outrun by a five year old.

my nephew telling me on the way to the airport that he wished i could stay forever (i do too, kiddo!).

it was the best vacation ever.

vacation, all i ever wanted

2007-06-20T11:52:00.000-07:00

well, i was hoping to write more before i head off on my east coast vacation tomorrow, but alas, time was short and my brain is dead from the two publications i have put out in the past few weeks and the media tornado that was the release of the foreclosure report.
i wanted to write about wickett's remedy, which i finished a few weeks ago and enjoyed very much, and about the architecture of happiness, a delicious book i've been savoring. i've written briefly about both books on goodreads, which i have begun using in place of librarything, but neither got the full write up it deserves. maybe when i get back and my mind is fresh i'll do some editing.
or maybe i'll have a whole new stack of books to write about.

currently listening to: wilco, sky blue sky

a little help for my friends

2007-06-13T08:07:00.000-07:00

you may know that i love myself some mcsweeney's. unfortunately, the june email update yesterday alerted regular readers/mcweeney's lovers to their monetary crisis. but the good news is that they are having a huge sale on all of their books and merchandise! how great is that - you get to help out a cool independent publisher and get good books in return.
i did my part, now will you do yours?

weekend update

2007-06-07T13:38:00.001-07:00

there are so many things going on this weekend! good thing i'm actually in town for once. :) here's my list of to-do's:

blues festival in grant park
printers row book fair
old town art fair
i may even check out the backgammon tournament

i just hope i survive the 90 mph winds tonight.

currently listening to: andrew bird, armchair apocrypha

smarty-pants

2007-06-03T18:52:00.000-07:00

yesterday i finished "the know-it-all," which i thoroughly enjoyed, partly because it made me laugh out loud a bunch of times, and partly because it was filled with fun facts to impress your friends (did you know that bananas and pumpkins are actually berries and the fruit that we think of as berries are not? now you'll have to read the book to find out why). but despite all the fun facts with which i will most certainly torture my friends and family (dogs have three eyelids), there is one lesson that stuck out to me in gold flashing letters. here's the story:

the author's friend told him a fable that one time a king wanted to know everything in the world. the wisest men in the kingdom gathered all the facts they could find and presented the king with three volumes of every fact known to man. the king said it was too long; make it shorter.

so the men went away and came back with a nice slim volume that they had pared down, about the size of a novel. still too long.

they came back one last time carrying a page with a single sentence. "this too shall pass."

to me, that sentence is both reassuring and terrifying. it's reassuring that the bad things will one day not be so bad. everything i'm stressed or sad or scared about now won't be nearly as pressing, and that's nice to know. but the sentence is also frightening.

look at it this way: i spent the weekend in madison with my parents, one of my sisters and my oldest niece. my niece is ten years old, but i remember very clearly the day she was born. yesterday we drove past the first apartment they lived in and i flashed back to crawling behind my toddler niece up the stairs as she learned to crawl.

i'm not old by any means, only 24, but suddenly i realized how quickly time passes. there is so much to take in and so much to learn. look at how much there is out there to learn: i don't know even a one-hundredth of what i would like to know. i'm not saying i'm going to read the encyclopedia or anything, but i'm going to keep that motto in mind.

"this too shall pass."

or in other words, stay curious. keep learning and growing and never stop.

currently listening to: feist, the reminder

(okay, i'm totally stealing this idea from myspace, but i think it's great.)

this one's for dad

2007-05-28T20:03:00.000-07:00

on my trip to the library last week i picked up a book called "the know-it-all" by a.j. jacobs. the subtitle made me laugh: "one man's humble quest to become the smartest person in the world." to achieve this daunting task, jacobs decided to read through the entire encyclopedia britannica, all 33,000 pages of it.

whew. i get tired just thinking about it.

i have been thoroughly enjoying the book - it kept me interested the entire train ride to joliet the morning and back to chicago this evening. it's funny and full of the interesting trivia i love to impress my friends with (did you know that dogs have three eyelids?!). but the one part i wanted to point out is from the "G" chapter.

jacobs highlights the general grant national memorial in new york, saying this: "I am desperate for someone to ask me the dusty classic 'Who is buried in Grant's Tomb?' Because now I can say, 'Ulysses S. is buried in Grant's Tomb, but so is his wife, Julia Dent Grant. Also, it cost a remarkable $600,000 for 1897, and reaches a height of a hundred a fifty feet."

so there you go, dad. the answer to your favorite question.

well, except maybe "who wants ice cream?"

foreclosure investing 101

2007-05-24T07:38:00.001-07:00

last week i mentioned my trip to evanston for a borrower interview with chicago public radio. it ran this morning on morning edition AND 848! read it and listen to it here.

"oh, don't get excited; put the damn thing on!"

2007-05-20T21:03:00.000-07:00

little edie from grey gardens has become my new fashion aspiration. (and if you have not seen this movie, you absolutely must.)

more press

2007-05-18T06:54:00.000-07:00

two more press hits today, and this afternoon i'll be in evanston for chicago public radio.
cbs 2 news (be sure to watch for my brief cameo walking down the sidewalk behind david and diann!)
chicago sun times

extreme makeover, kiki edition

2007-05-15T19:04:00.000-07:00

after a year or so of growing out my hair, i decided to chop it off again (this cycle seems to happen every year or so). here's what it looked like yesterday:

(well, yesterday a few weeks ago. a co-worker took this photo for a thank you card to one of our groups - long story. never mind.)

and here's what it looks like now:

short! it's like thoroughly modern millie told miss dorothy: "cut your hair! let them see how truly abandoned you are!"
well, maybe not abandoned...liberated?

the plan for tonight?

2007-05-11T10:06:00.000-07:00

looptopia! the all night party in the loop!

i am ridiculously excited about this.

sound advice...

2007-05-09T13:08:00.000-07:00

...if not a little deep for a wednesday afternoon:

be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and learn to love the questions themselves.

-rainer maria rilke

it seemed like a good idea at the time

2007-05-04T07:29:00.000-07:00

this article in crain's is about cool new video technology at a few chicago bus stops. it seems like a great idea - you can push a button and watch a video of abe lincoln traveling around the great state of illinois. neat, huh?
sure it's cool, but the advertisers are using the ads to encourage chicagoans to hit the road and see the sites.
hmm, let's see here. i take the bus every day, so i would definitely be their target audience. BUT, i don't have a car. in fact, a lot of people who take the bus don't have cars.
sooo, tell me how this ad campaign is going to work again?

stuck in the middle with you

2007-05-02T08:11:00.000-07:00

it seems like every time i go to my parents' house i come back to chicago with more than i brought. my bag on the way back home is stuffed with food, clean laundry, and more often than not, books. after a brief trip home over the weekend, i brought back a stack (but i also left one there for dad, so really it was fairly balanced out), and i was so excited about them that i kind of started all of them. and then i went to the library last night and picked up several more books, which i also started. sigh. i always do this.

the one i left in madison was the strawberry statement. it was written in the late 60s by a college "revolutionary" - i put it in quotes because really, he was just on the sidelines and he was mostly in it for the girls. it's an interesting book, but i think i was looking for some answers about the sixties and anti-war protests, but i came away disillusioned - sort of like kunen.

on the bus back to o'hare i started extremes along the silk road. this one caught my eye because chicago is in the middle of a year-long celebration of the silk road, with art exhibits, concerts, etc. i haven't finished the book, though, because something is missing. i have a good sense of what middleton is feeling on the trip, but i don't have any sense of the landscape or even the people he encounters. mainly he talks about how worried he is that he won't make it.
so now i'm re-reading the kandy-kolored tangerine-flake streamline baby, and i also have some flannery o'connor and john steinbeck waiting at my apartment. and i'm sure i'll be back at the library later this week, searching for something else.

more bragging

2007-04-26T07:40:00.000-07:00

here i go, tooting my own horn again, but i can't help it. during the day i am the media and communiations coordinator for a national non-profit (what i do at night is a different story...). this story from the christian science monitor features a borrower we helped to get out of foreclosure. i am incredibly proud because i worked very hard on this story and pitched it to the author as a solution rather than just a problem.

update: now it's on the front page of yahoo news.

neighborhood history buff

2007-04-25T12:22:00.000-07:00

last summer i decided to move out of the ukrainian village on the west side of chicago and try uptown, which is just north of wrigley field. i moved into a hundred-year-old six flat a few blocks from the lake, and i fell in love with the neighborhood (even if it was a little scary sometimes).
i'm not in the old building any more (i decided to strike out on my own and find a studio when my lease ran out in march), but i am still in uptown. i just couldn't bear to leave the neighborhood i adore. so imagine my surprise when the chicago reader (a free weekly newspaper) ran a huge front page article on the history of MY neighborhood.

i thought i knew a lot about chicago and about uptown, but damn, there's a lot to learn. who knew that gloria swanson grew up just a few blocks from where i live? or that montrose harbor used to be a nike missile base?

but what i truly love about uptown is the diversity. the fact that i can walk home past a tiny african grocery next to a starbucks, walk past al capone's old hangout on my way to the post office, or get hit up for change on one corner and given a jesus people tract on the next, well, that just makes me happy to be home.

In Uptown you may look for a migrating warbler and find two guys going at it; you may look for a magnificent historic theater and find a board-up; you may look for a homeless shelter and find Pensacola Place. In Uptown you don’t always get what you expect, or expect what you get.

-Harold Henderson

'i'm having a twin [cities] experience...'

2007-04-23T19:38:00.000-07:00

this post is a shout out to my minneapolis family and friends (and the one from milwaukee who drove all the way up for a day) to say thanks for a great weekend of shopping, seafood and tiki drinks. i returned to chicago this afternoon refreshed and happy, and with a new nickname: tiki kiki.
thanks for the laughs and good memories.

o happy day

2007-04-17T10:40:00.000-07:00

yesterday, in an attempt to soak up some vitamin D and ward off whatever this sickness is that i'm harboring, i took a book and a latte down to millennium park to sit on a bench in the sun across from the bean. it was the perfect afternoon to be sick.
i sat for a while with 'everything is illuminated,' looking up every once in a while to see people laughing, smiling, holding hands in the sunny afternoon. kids ran around playing tag, dodging the art students sketching in the grass. elderly couples held on to each other's arms and walked slowly across the park. power walkers in power suits strode by with crackberries glued to their ears. it seemed like everyone who wasn't cooped up in an office was out enjoying the sunshine.
after a while i got up and walked across frank gehry's bridge to grant park and the cancer survivor's garden. i wish i had brought my camera to show you how blue the sky and lake were, and how they blended to the exact some color at the horizon and you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. the planetarium jutted out over the lake to my right, and navy pier to my left. i breathed in the fresh air and fell in love with chicago again, for the ten millionth time.

traveling mercies

2007-04-14T10:49:00.000-07:00

traveling always makes me a bit nostalgic, but for what i'm never sure. there's just something about sitting there, watching the scenery whiz past, and letting your mind wander that makes you feel a bit restless. homeless, in a way. you are stuck between two points - the place you are leaving and the place you are going.
traveling allows the perfect time and space to reflect on where you've been, who you've seen. you imagine what will happen when you reach your destination. plans, dreams, desires. you work out all the details of who you will see and what you will say.
but then again, things change. those few short hours on the road can turn you around and change your entire outlook. but that's the excitement of the road - a new outlook and a new opportunity wherever you go, if only you allow yourself to see it.

back in black

2007-04-12T21:41:00.000-07:00

ah yes, after a nice long hiatus i'm back. i suddenly remembered how much i missed writing, so i'm going to try my hand at it again.
i've spent the week at my parents' house in madison, wis., working for a few hours during the day and indulging myself the rest of the time (new shoes, check; new bag, check check; lots of ice cream, check aaaaaand check). the break has been nice, and since my brain is a little fried as of late i have come to rely on my old habit: those stupid clueless books.
i have written about this dirty secret of mine before, and i embrace my indulgence with pride. well, as much pride as i can muster reading an entire series of books about makeovers and teen millionaires. there are other books stacked up next to my bed: everything is illuminated (the movie was fantastic and i adored extremely loud and incredibly close); white noise; confessions of a shopaholic (what?! how did that get in there?), but alas, a vacation is a vacation, and one shouldn't feel guilty for wallowing in some junk every once in a while, right? after all, when you are trapped in the house by five inches of snow in mid-april, it's time for a treat. girl scout cookies, some new music from a friend, lots and lots of coffee and a good old girly book... it just doesn't get any better than that.

this is the end, my only friend, the end

2006-09-27T14:29:00.000-07:00

ah kids, i hate to do this to you, but i need to close up shop around here. dust bunnies are collecting in the corners and the cobwebs are hanging from the ceiling. my life has gotten busier, which means less reading and writing, unless it is work-related.
i started this blog a little over a year ago as a fun way to let whoever was curious know what i was reading and doing. reflecting over the past year, so much has changed: back then i was still fairly new to chicago and living in the ukrainian village. chicago has become my home now and i live in a completely different neighborhood with completely different roommates. a year ago i was a lowly secretary trying to find enough work to fill my day; now i am in charge of communications and media, which is much more work than i ever thought it would be but i love it. nearly a year ago i re-met an old friend from school; last week we marked six months of dating and growing together. last year i thought i would stay in chicago forever but had no clue what i would do with my life; now i have started to study for the GRE and will start applying to grad schools for my master's in library science (seems like a fitting profession, huh?).
all this and so much more in a bit more than twelve months. and if all of that can happen in merely one year, just imagine what kind of adventures the rest of my life holds...

welcome back (again)!

2006-09-07T12:48:00.000-07:00

ah, that was a nice vacation. i did some traveling, got a lot of work done, and did a lot of reading. i just finished nelso algren's "chicago: city on the make," which was beautiful. i loved it. algren captured the feeling of chicago perfectly: the long stretches of desolate industrialism in the back-of-the-yards, the rain streaked windows of the el on a cloudy morning, the jumping blues clubs on the south side. and even with all the heartache and hardship in this town, we still love it and cannot leave it. as algren wrote, "and never once, on any midnight whatsoever, will you take off from here without a pang. without forever feeling something priceless is being left behind in the forest of furnished rooms, lost forever down below, beneath the miles and miles of lights and lights. with the slow smoke blowing compassionately across them like smoke across the spectrum of the heart."
do yourself a favor and read it.
next on my list is "maggie cassidy," jack kerouac's loveletter to the first girl who broke his heart. i picked up this one because i was reminded, when climbing up the skyline divide a few weeks ago, of kerouac's philosophy that "you can't fall off a mountain you fool." right, now you try to remember that when you're 6,000 feet up.

short hiatus

2006-08-09T20:25:00.000-07:00

you may have noticed that i haven't been writing much lately, and i apologize. here is part of my laundry list of excuses:
1. work has been busy
2. i'm tired when i get home at the end of the day
3. there are a billion other things to do this time of year - free concerts, outdoor movies, etc.
4. my small amount of free time is used reading and knitting (i'm finally finishing that damn shawl i started so long ago - i swore i would have it done the first time i went to seattle, but i vow to finish it before my next trip in two weeks)
5. my weekends have filled up with traveling and visiting friends (a wedding shower in michigan this weekend, friends in town next weekend, long weekend on the west coast after that)
6. my time at work has become increasingly consumed with other writing projects, so my creativity has been worn a bit thin as of late
so i'm going to take a short break - like a summer vacation (since i don't really get one this year). i have a long list of books to keep me busy, though, including john dos passos' USA trilogy (already enjoying), "the time traveler's wife" (if i can ever get it from the library), and "the brothers karamazov" (came highly recommended since i liked "the brothers k").
i will be fully prepared for a full-blown book report when i return refreshed and raring to go. until then, happy reading!

sweet relief

2006-08-02T17:37:00.000-07:00

i couldn't hide my elation when it started to rain as soon as i stepped off the train this evening. i walked home slowly, savoring the cool breeze and letting myself get drenched. it felt absolutely delicious after a week of sweltering temperatures without air conditioning in my apartment.

how hot is it?

2006-08-01T07:10:00.000-07:00

it's soooo hot...

filming quebec in chicago?

2006-07-31T17:28:00.000-07:00

yesterday morning (after a quick dip in the lake - i love living three blocks from the beach) a friend and i walked over to my train stop to meet some other friends for lunch. as i stepped up on the platform i noticed something unusual: a large group of well-dressed white people. as a young white woman i am the minority in my neighborhood, so i usually notice when there is another person around who looks like me. when there's a big group, though, it usually means they are either lost or volunteering at the baptist church, trying to reform the drug addicts and prostitutes who live on my block.
anyway, we got up to the platform and i noticed a train stopped on the other tracks and people were walking around with cameras and lights and such.
hmmm, i thought, they must be shooting a movie. (we asked an assistant, who said it was called "quebec.") well, that's cool, but i hope it doesn't delay my train. i'm hungry. we watched for a few minutes as they set up the shot, filmed a take, and called cut. the extras all relaxed and walked around, and as the crowd parted i saw a familiar face, but not one i had ever seen in real life.
"that's john c. reilly!" i exclaimed as i nudged my friend.
"who's that?" she asked.
"the guy from chicago!"
"oh him! i know who that is."
"i need to get a picture of this!" i pulled my camera out of my bag just as the train rolled up and i tried to quickly get a picture of mr. reilly. here's what i got: you see where that person's hand is sticking up in the middle? that was his hairdresser. you can kind of see his hair right next to it. but i swear it was him! i promise! i was 15 feet away from john c. reilly!
don't you believe me?

full disclosure

2006-07-26T11:18:00.000-07:00

not to toot my own horn, but my baby, disclosure, is finally online. this is the newspaper that i wrote several articles for, edited and did the lay out. i am so very proud of it that i just wanted to share. you can read it here.

a circus punk marching band?

2006-07-24T19:14:00.000-07:00

a few weeks ago a friend invited me to the abbey pub for a night of square dancing. i went, even though i haven't done any type of square dancing since about third grade, and we had a good time twirling each other around and stepping on each others' toes.
but it was the second band that really got my attention. mucca pazza was listed on the bill as the "world's only circus punk marching band."
hm, how very curious, i thought. i will definitely have to check this out. apparently mary houlihan of the sun times had the same idea.
when the time came, a huge group of people marched in through the back door playing high school marching band music and wearing mismatched uniforms. they moved in formation, albiet not the traditional marching band formation, but it worked, considering that they were inside a fairly packed bar.
i really can't explain the music. they're a circus punk marching band, just like they say. so just do me a favor and go to their website and listen to it. or check out my myspace page, because i liked them so much i put a song on my page.
and next time you're in chicago, give me a call and i'll take you out to see them. trust me, it's worth braving the elbowing crowds of hipsters.

fear and loathing in chicago

2006-07-22T20:18:00.000-07:00

about ten minutes ago i finished "fear and loathing in las vegas," a chronicle of hunter s. thompson's drug-addled trip through and around vegas in search of "the american dream." it was a fast read and i had a hard time putting it down, but it left me feeling a bit empty in the end.
actually, i didn't (and still don't) know exactly how i feel about the book. there were a lot of funny parts and i definitely enjoyed thompson's signature "gonzo" style (i'm a huge fan of the "new journalism" phase, which includes tom wolfe and joan didion, two of my favorite authors), but i didn't find many redeeming qualities to make me go back and read it again.
the book follows thompson and his attorney (known as dr. gonzo) as they attempt to cover two events in las vegas but end up lost in a world of drugs and crazy happenings. they spend most of their time attempting to make it look like they are not on drugs, even though they are puking out the side of the car, strangling hotel maids and complaining about how the drugs make them want to die.
ha. funny.
somehow they manage to make it out of vegas alive, but the book ends with thompson stepping off the plane and immediately buying more drugs. that disappoints me, especially after this earlier rant about Timothy Leary and the drug culture of the 60s:

This was the fatal flaw in Tim Leary's trip. He crashed around America selling "consciousness expansion" without ever giving a thought to the people who took him too seriously...What Leary took down with him was the central illusion of a whole life-style that he helped create...a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture: the desperate assumption that somebody - or at least some force - is tending that Light at the end of the tunnel.

so obviously thompson is just as jaded about the 60s as i am (a topic for another time), but he doesn't make it clear how he distinguishes himself from the hippies: both were looking to avoid the responsibility of living in the real world, and drugs were the perfect way to do just that.
i'm not saying that i would have preferred thompson to stay straight - god knows we would have completely missed his amazing contributions to the world of literature - i'm just saying it makes me sad that it took drugs to fuel such an incredible man. he was, after all, just searching for something real, something true.
and who in this crazy world isn't?

battle stories

2006-07-19T17:40:00.000-07:00

i don't often talk about my work here because i try to reserve this blog just book discussions, but i had to share this with you.
remember when i went to d.c. a few months ago? this is what we did while we were there. (very special thanks and kudos to jake for the great video.)

i still can't believe i get paid to do this.

hot summer days

2006-07-15T10:42:00.000-07:00

they are predicting highs near 100 degrees today, so i am trying to stay cool in my un-airconditioned apartment by sitting in front of the fan in a dark room with my book and a huge glass of iced tea (it's working to some extent, but i'll be grateful for my airconditioned 4:30 train ride to an airconditioned house in the suburbs). the book? "ada or ardor" by vladimir nabokov, who is becoming one of my favorite writers, despite his often uncomfortable themes of pedophilia and incest, "ada" being no exception.
touted as one of nabokov's masterpieces, the book tells the story of ada veen and her cousin van, who spend one summer together as lustful adolescents who spend what seems like every waking moment of their free time finding secret spaces in which to "make love."
is it really "love"? it appears that nabokov would like us to think that these two children, 12 and 15 years old, are truly in love and therefore justified in their actions, despite the fact that they later discover that they are not just cousins, oh no, they are actually brother and sister.
i think this is why people are drawn to nabovkov - aside from his witty, intelligent writing. he takes a situation that is taboo to humans, such as incest or pedophilia, and attempts to twist it into something that everyone searches for: love. people are uncomfortable with incest and most would do anything to put an end to it, but who would dare stand in the way of true love? it would be a crime against humankind to tear two lovers apart.
but i don't agree that ada and van, or even humbert and lolita, were ever in love, and i don't think nabokov does either. love and lust are two entirely different things, and the characters in nabokov's books often confuse them, just as we often do in real life (damn those hormones). and i think it's important that we have such stories; rather than writing about the traditional romance between two consenting young adults, nabokov chooses to write about the things that make us squirm, but the things that happen all too often.
the other day i read a review for the movie "heading south," which has gotten a lot of press for this same conundrum, the seeming interchangeability between love and lust. the movie received good reviews, but this last sentence stuck out to me: "... it becomes one of the most truthful examinations ever filmed of desire, age and youth, and how easy it is to confuse erotic rapture with love."
hear, hear. in our culture it is becoming harder and harder to tell the difference between love and lust because sex seems to take the place of both. maybe we all need to take a step back and re-learn what it is to truly love someone and how much better it is than plain old lust.

memories

2006-07-10T14:01:00.000-07:00

in my 20+ years as a reading professional, i have collected thousands of stories, some stored only in my head and some stored in notebooks and folders scattered in with my belongings: stories that i have xeroxed from books, quotes, poems, etc. just stuff that i like in general.
this week i have been collecting other types of stories. you see, my grandmother passed away last week and my sisters and i have been emailing back and forth with our memories of her. as part of the healing process of losing her, i have been sharing these stories with my friends, and i thought this might be a good place to share with the rest of the world what a funny, fantastic woman my gram was. here are some stories from my sisters:
(1) "listening to the children's bible hour on the radio before going to sleep at her house."
(2) "sending her letters as a kid with as many x's and o's as i could fit on the page."
(3) "how she always recruited me to wash our windows when she visited." (i lived near grandma when i was in college, and every time i went over there she asked me to wash her patio windows.)
(4) "the book she kept in her kitchen that, in my opinion, summarized her philosophy on life: title was 'God and Vitamins' (served her well, i think)."
(5) she asked me about boyfriends a lot, and one time when i told her i wasn't interested in the boys at my school she asked, "but didn't you come here to get married?"
(6) "she tried to comb out my dreadlocks."
(7) "she always kicked my ass at pool (she had a slow but steady shot)."
(8) "the way she would laugh at dad's jokes, which no one else in the family laughed at (i loved how her eyes lit up and if it was funny enough she would start tearing up)."
(9) "how she wouldn't let me leave her apartment without taking at least 3 items of food home with me (usually half-finished boxes of crackers or something)."
(10) "her falling asleep in church and then waking up suddenly and pretending it never happened."
(11) she invited my sister alayna and her friend over for a homecooked meal one time and served instant mashed potatoes.
(12) every time we said goodbye she would give me a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the butt and say, "i love you." i was always embarassed about it then, but who else would ever pat my butt in such a loving way?
we'll miss you gram.

cringe

2006-07-05T13:14:00.000-07:00

i didn't think this day would come, at least not for a long, long time. i just can't hold it in any longer. i must confess: i love my ipod.
there, i said it. i feel so much better now. you see, a long time ago i made a vow to myself that i would never, ever own an ipod. i had seen too many people on street and on the train with those stupid white headphones, lost in their own world of indie pop and hipsterdom. maybe i was jealous or cheap, but i wasn't going to spend $300 just to fit in with every other hipster wearing those damn white headphones.
fast forward to a few weeks ago. my trusty-rusty portable cd player starts to skip and the fourth pair of headphones i've bought in the last 12 months has broken. i'm tired of lugging around extra cds in my bag and looking like an idiot trying to hold on the el railing and change a cd while not being crushed by rush hour traffic.
that's it, i think. i'm done living in the 1990s. it's time to live in the now. i'm buying an ipod.
i did my research: i looked at non-apple mp3 players and compared them to the ipods. in the end though, the nano won my heart with it's tiny cuteness and flexibility (i can store photos on that puppy and show everyone how cute my nieces and nephew are without fishing around for my wallet). so one afternoon i left work a few minutes early, took the bus over to the apple store, and dropped the equivalent of a month's worth of groceries on a 1GB nano. those white headphones are now glued to my head.
there is so much good music out in the world, and sometimes i want to share the soundtrack of my life with everyone. this afternoon i was listening to elvis' greatest hits, and i had to stop myself from standing up in the middle of a crowded train and singing, "a-well-a bless mah soul, a-what's wrong with me, ahm itchin' like a man on a fuzzy tree."
don't you think everyone else on the northbound red line needs a little more elvis in their lives?

just in case

2006-06-29T11:11:00.000-07:00

(groan - i hate making up these stupid titles.)
all the hip kids are probably going to look at me like the old fart that i am for saying this: i just discovered neko case, and i am in love with her music.
my roommate, being so much cooler than i, has a few of her cds and i decided to borrow them (aka burn them on my computer) because i had heard one of her songs on the radio and really liked it. it took me a few listens to really appreciate case's smoky voice and kind of country-fied sound, but it has really grown on me, and now i'm looking forward to downloading her new album (i bought an ipod last week and already my cd collection has begun collecting dust while my ipod never leaves my side. i have named it steve and refer to it as my other boyfriend).
so there is your requisite musical recommendation for today. go, listen to neko case, and enjoy.

fantastic free fun

2006-06-25T13:08:00.000-07:00

there are so many things i love about chicago, but one of my favorites is all of the free stuff, especially in the summer. yesterday was one of those days where spent virtually no money but was busy all day with exciting things.
first i went to the illinois institute of technology for the marimekko exhibit, which was fantastic. whoever would have thought that i would ever be so excited about fabric?
after an iced chai and a good book under the el tracks, my next stop was the chicago cultural center. i spend a lot of time here because they always have some fantastic exhibition showing. i particularly enjoyed the jeanne dunning exhibit, which was disturbing but beautiful at the same time.
my favorite, though, was the tibetian mozart requiem at millenium park. i have never been to a concert at millenium park, mainly because they are all filled with tourists, but this was a great exception. what a fantastic way to mix eastern and western culture, and what a perfect setting. the breeze from the lake came over the park as the sunset reflected off the buildings. it was a perfect way to end my cheap, fun-filled day.

camilla engman

2006-06-23T07:43:00.000-07:00

i've been looking at these adorable illustrations and paintings by camilla engman all morning.i came across her work on the mahar drygoods website, which i came across by way of mom-o-matic (i'm addicted to this website, it's hilarious). so cute!

dammit, my family's cute

2006-06-22T20:04:00.000-07:00

look at this kid. how can you NOT be in love with her? and the best part is she's related to me.

killer babies

2006-06-21T08:11:00.000-07:00

you should know by now that i am not a science fiction fan - all of those flying dragons and fire-breathing princesses, it's too much for me. i do, however, like ray bradbury ("dandelion wine" = best book ever). this morning i found myself engrossed in "the vintage bradbury," a book of short stories that i have read several times, but always enjoy rereading. in fact, it almost caused me to be late for work because i could not stop reading.
a brief background on my commute: i live in uptown, so to get to my office in river west i take the red line to the bus or transfer to the blue line. this morning i decided to stay on the train since it was raining, and i almost missed my stop at washington since i was so wrapped up in "the small assassin," a short story about a killer baby.
yikes! killer babies. i remember the first time i read that story i threw the book across the room because i was so thorougly freaked out. it is quite possibly the single most frighteningly good story i have ever read. check out this opening sentence:
"Just when the idea occurred to her that she was being murdered she could not tell."
if that doesn't give you the willies, nothing will.

deep thoughts

2006-06-20T07:49:00.000-07:00

last night i was up past midnight finishing "snow falling on cedars." i just couldn't put it down when i was so close to finding out what happened! was kabuo actually guilty of murder? would ishamael turn in the evidence he found in the lighthouse? what really happened to carl on that boat?
yikes, it sounds so cheesy when i put it that way, but i was truly hooked on this book. it's a murder mystery and a love story all wrapped up into one, neither of which genre i terribly enjoy, but it was written so well that i couldn't help but love it.
and although i enjoyed the love story and the mystery, i was also wrapped up in the history. the story takes place in 1952, about 10 years after WWII. many of the residents of this island are of japanese descent, and during the war they were forced to evacuate their homes and were placed in internment camps. i remember talking briefly about these camps in my high school history classes, but we didn't spend nearly as much time on these as we did on other parts of the war. my hunch is that we are ashamed as a country to admit that we could commit such an abominable act, ripping people from their homes and families simply because of their heritage.
but then again, hasn't this always been an unspoken part of our history? manifest destiny: old, white, protestant men believe that it is god's will for them to take over and rule the rest of the world.
oh america, land of the rich, and the home of the bourgeois. will we ever learn to accept one another as humans, not as colors?

CTA nerd

2006-06-16T08:43:00.000-07:00

okay, i'm a complete nerd, i can admit it. i came across this website today, chicago-l.org, and i must admit, i'm completely fascinated.
where else can you find the complete history of every single train station, past and present, in the city of chicago? i'm ashamed to admit to the amount of time i have spent reading about the stations i use: wilson is where my house is, and chicago is how i get to my office.
i also like the memories page and the mishaps, although that one makes me a bit nervous.
man, i really am a nerd. who else would get this excited for a website about public transportation?

the book of kiki

2006-06-14T18:58:00.000-07:00

yes, i'm here - i haven't given up on blogging. i don't know what has happened to all of my free time, but i feel like i haven't read a book in a long time.
actually, i just finished "the book of guys," by garrison keillor, who is one of my favorite people in the world. i am a faithful listener of "a prairie home companion" and a subscriber to the writer's almanac. i enjoyed "the book of guys," which was funny, but what i really want to talk about is "a prairie home companion."
i haven't lived in my parent's house for the last five years, but i do get back to madison every once in a while. when i am home on a saturday we always turn on NPR at 5:00, because that's when garrison keillor comes on. usually mom and i are in the kitchen preparing dinner, so we turn on the radio and listen while we cook. when dinner is ready we all sit down, still listening to the radio, usually right around the break when garrison reads the greetings ("hello mom and dad from the world's largest ball of twine!").
my favorite part, though, is when garrison takes a deep breath and says, "well, it's been a quiet week in lake wobegon, my home town..." and the audience cheers and claps. we are usually done with our dinner at this point, sitting around the table, digesting and smiling to ourselves, full of food and thankful for simple pleasures.
garrison goes on to tell a story about first love, lost love, someone growing older, or even just a story about a few short moments in the life of one person. these characters are so real and their stories so beautiful, that i often find myself closing my eyes and sitting, completely enraptured, until the story is done and i hear those fateful words, "and that's the news from lake wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average."
oh, i live for those 20 minutes. they are like pure heaven on earth.
so in garrison's own words, be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

why did i waste my time?

2006-06-10T15:31:00.000-07:00

this afternoon (after a great trip to the farmer market at clark and division - great asparagus there) i finished "the lost painting," which i wrote about last time. the new york times honored this book as one of the top ten of 2005, it has an average of four stars on amazon, and everyone else seemed to love it.
"captivating," they say. "gripping."
"are you on crack?" i say. that book was crap. okay, not completely, but it was not in the slightest "gripping" or "captivating." when a book is captivating i cannot put it down. i have been known to read as i walk or stand outside of a building because there is just no way i can put down my book. this one was hardly gripping. i found it poorly written and quite honestly, boring. the characters had no personalities - even though the author tried to insert a love story that never went anywhere - and even the chase story to find the real painting was painfully slow. it was poorly written in general, and a bit davinci code-esque for my taste. i guess the author's picture, jonathan harr, should have tipped me off:i'm not sure what's on my plate next. i picked up a garrison keillor book and also "snow falling on cedars," which i read a long time ago but thought i would pick up again. i love re-reading books because i always notice something new, no matter how many times i have read it.
other good things: i've become addicted to youtube and all of the old music videos and other random things to watch, like this video of jack kerouac reading from "on the road."
now you will be addicted too.

let's get the record straight

2006-06-07T07:33:00.000-07:00

a friend asked me the other night if i read because i'm passionate about it or because i love it (what a great question!), and i immediately answered, "oh, it's definitely because i'm passionate about it. i would read all day every day if i could."
my friend seemed to think that was an acceptable answer, and i didn't really think about it until later that night.
hmm, i thought. i don't think my reading is actually passion. i think it's really love. passion implies an urgency, a fire that burns brightly for a few minutes but then dies.
love, on the other hand, is more like a fire that ignites and burns slowly. sometimes it rages and sometimes it smolders, but it never goes out. this seems to describe my reading habit much more closely: there are periods when all i want to do is read, but then there are times when i can't even think about books. but whatever mood i'm in, whether i can't stop myself from reading or i can't even look at a book, i know that i will never fall out of love with my favorite books and all of the other ones i have yet to read.

self portrait tuesday

2006-06-06T07:57:00.000-07:00

i'm not sure what the theme is this month, but i wanted to share this picture of me taken when i was nine months old.

i was browsing through some old pictures last night and i thought this one was just too cute to keep to myself.
in other news, i started my next book last night, "the lost painting" by jonathan harr. so far it has been a bit "davinci code"-esque, so i hope it gets better within the next few chapters. it's a quick read, though, so look for my review shortly.

the kiki chronicle

2006-06-05T17:36:00.000-07:00

finally, FINALLY i have finished another book. i have a few excuses for taking so long, buti'll just say that i have been very busy lately and the book i just finished was over 600 pages long.
it took me a long time to finish "the wind-up bird chronicle." i partly blame my lack of free time and i partly blame the book, which i actually really enjoyed, it's just that the reality was a bit too blurry for me.
i am a devout fiction fan - probably 90% of the books i read are fiction - but i am not a science fiction fan. i like my fiction to echo reality; i like stories about people i can sympathize with or situations i can relate to. i am not a big fan of warped worlds or strange happenings, such as took place in "the wind-up bird chronicle."
the book follows a man, mr. okada, as his wife leaves him and his life gets successively stranger and stranger. he starts spending time at the bottom of a well; he works for a woman whose work is so secretive that she doesn't even really know what she does; he moves in and out of dream worlds. it was all a bit too strange for me. i kept reading and wondering where the line of reality ended and fantasy began. did he really hit that guy with the bat, or was that another dream? what was that whole episode with malta kano sort-of-but-not-really becoming kumiko? and the final chapters, whew, those were crazy.
i thoroughly enjoyed murakami's writing style, though. the story flowed and i definitely wanted to keep reading when i got to the end of each chapter.
so my final consensus is that i would definitely reccommend it to someone who enjoys fantasy but is looking for something better written than the stuff you pick up on the science fiction shelves at borders. i would like to check out his nonfiction work, "underground," which i might be more willing to reccommend to readers who think like me.

baby talk

2006-06-02T20:45:00.000-07:00

thanks to my brand-spankin'-new laptop (thanks, dad) i can now blog from the comfort of my own home! it's nice to be able to write on my own time and not on company time any more. i promise to at least attempt to be a bit more diligent in my posting now that i am never out of reach of blogger.
i was in michigan for the memorial day weekend, helping to clean out my grandmother's apartment since she has recently moved into an assisted living facility. my oldest sister and her daughter came from new york to help my mom and uncle, which meant that i was able to spend some much-appreciated quality time with my family.
i wanted to share this picture of my niece because she is so stinkin' cute.

i took this while we were shopping and entertaining ourselves by almost running into things with the cart and then squishing the pillows and quilts in the bedding section. ("aren't you done yet, mom? come on liesl, let's go!")
having nieces and nephews is the greatest thing in the world. my oldest niece lived with my family for a few months after she was born, and she became like my little sister. we are still incredibly close and i have always been grateful for the opportunity watch her grow and learn.
this niece lives in new york, and every time i see her i swear she has grown another two inches and learned billions of new, even cuter, things.
at the risk of sounding like the overbearing auntie that i am, it always amazes me how fast those kids grow. every time i see them they are totally different than they were the last time we met, and i almost have to re-learn who they are.but at least i can promise that i'll never be the aunt who pinches your cheek every time i see you and remarks on "my, how fast you've grown!"
at least i hope i can promise that much...

a reflection on my walk to work

2006-05-31T14:50:00.000-07:00

when i first moved to chicago in january of 2005, i lived on the gold coast, right on the corner of state and division, a ritzy, rich neighborhood of millionaires and movie stars. how i was able to afford a studio there in a run-down hotel-turned-apartment building is beyond me, but it was fun for a while.
anyway, i used to walk to my office in river west. i would walk south down state street, past boutiques and expensive restaurants, then west on chicago, past the art galleries and craft stores.
and past cabrini green.
i distinctly remember the first time i walked past those buildings, because i had heard stories about the gangs and violence that was so prevalent in the projects. the buildings looked on the verge of falling apart and there were no trees or grass to speak of. i was terrified that someone was going to jump out and shoot me, just like they do in the movies. like this movie, which was shot by cabrini residents.
it's hard to explain exactly what it's like to cross the street from the gold coast and step into the ghetto. you go from expensive high rise apartments with rooftop gardens straight to huge grey/white buildings with boards on the windows and fences over the balconies. this is no place to live.
every city has its problems, and chicago certainly has its share of them. but it is a shame that our city has to be so segregated - both racially and economically - and no one seems to be doing anything to correct it. white people don't go south of cermak and people of color stay away from lincoln park.
what can we do to blur these class and color lines? and should we?

guess who's back

2006-05-24T08:04:00.000-07:00

ah yes, i'm back at work after a fantastic vaction of camping, sightseeing (here and here), and quality time with an amazing boy. i'm very behind on my work, but it was worth it to get away for a few days.
alas, i have little to report on the book front. i'm still reading "the wind up bird chronicle," which keeps getting stranger and stranger, but i'm enjoying it, and i'm balancing that with some truman capote essays from "music for chameleons." i had forgotten what a fantastic writer capote was. he has that magical touch for making his characters and himself so very human that it is impossible to stop reading. it's been a long time since i've read anything by him, but i will have to go back to "breakfast at tiffany's" and seek out "in cold blood." probably not until i'm done with the 10,000 other books i'm reading right now, though.
sigh. there will never be enough time in the world to read all of the books i want.

such a shame

2006-05-18T13:12:00.000-07:00

boy, too bad my favorite book-turned-movie has been receiving such bad press. i was planning to be first in line when it opens (tomorrow!). too bad i'm taking off for vacation tomorrow afternoon. i'm off to washington state for some camping, sightseeing, and much needed rest. look for me next week when i'll have more time to write about the fantastic book i'm reading, "the wind-up bird chronicle," by haruki murakami.

a-choo!

2006-05-16T07:47:00.000-07:00

there is a great article in the new york times today about allergies and how they have historically been the nerd disease. and it's true: it seems like only the nerdy kids have food allergies or, even worse, seasonal allergies. for some reason no one likes to admit to a drippy nose when it's not cold-related.
i agree that it is semi-embarassing to have allergies. your nose gets red and dry from all the rubbing, and no one wants to hang around with someone whose nose is constantly dripping snot. my allergies act up in the fall, and every new school year i would carry around a box of kleenex because my nose would drip and i would sneeze every 30 seconds. people looked at me funny and i'm pretty sure they got grossed out when i had to stuff my used kleenex in my book bag...
but i'm glad that people are standing up now and not hiding their annual nasal irritation. i for one have never been ashamed to admit that i have allergies, and if people don't want to deal with my snotty nose, that's too bad (of course i would rather not deal with it either, but that's a different story).
so all you allergy sufferers out there, stand up. stick your nose in the air and blow it.
just don't forget your kleenex.

back to work (again)

2006-05-11T12:59:00.000-07:00

well, i'm back at work after a long weekend of kicking corporate ass. i'm in the process of writing up a reflection, but in the meantime check this out: we were covered in the washington post when we took our demands to extend the drug deadline to michael leavitt's house.
we had several other media hits, and i will be sure to post them on our NPA blog when i get back to the office on monday (i never would have thought that this hobby blogging would someday become a marketable skill at work). for now, though, i am heading home to continue working on a long article that needs to be changed completely for my monday deadline.
ugh, my brain hurts already.

2006-05-04T08:51:00.000-07:00

well, i regret to say it, but i don't think i will have time to talk about the festival any more. i'm sad to admit it, but i just don't have the time or energy to think about it. work has been kicking my butt, trying to get ready for our national conference this weekend. i have been reading though!
since i moved farther away from work, i have a much longer commute (about 45 minutes compared to 20) which means more time to read. my new living space also means discovering which books my roommates own and are willing to let me borrow. last night i grabbed my roommate's copy of "the people's history of the united states," which i, shockingly, have never read. it's not exactly early morning reading material, i must say. i began my morning with bloodshed and warfare, which was not exactly pleasant, but certainly necessary reading.
for the past several days i was reading "zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance," which is a favorite i have read about 43 times. it always makes me happy and i get something new out of it every time. just last night a friend and i discussed whether our personalities are more romantic (artsy) or classical (scientific) because that is what i read about yesterday morning (for the record, we decided that i am more classical because i like to have everything outlined and in its own space).
so even though my commute is twice as long, i have enjoyed it so far. there is something so soothing about being lost in a book as everyone else on the train is pushing to get in and out and yelling for people to move because they are late for work. but i just sit there, waiting for my stop, totally lost in my book. as usual.

festival wrap up, part infinity

2006-05-01T08:05:00.000-07:00

sorry i have not written much lately, but things have been CRAZY over here. i moved on saturday (buh-bye ukie village, hel-LO uptown) and we are gearing up for our national conference this weekend, so i am working long hours and spending my dimimished free time unpacking. i'm afraid i'm already losing most of what i remember from the festival, so i'll try to get down as much as i can this week (i know after the 3 hours of sleep i'll get this weekend i will be completely brain-dead).
my very first session at the festival was a reading by charles d'ambrosio, a name i had heard before but could not place. when i got to the session and he started reading, i remembered that i had read a few pieces by him in the new yorker - i had even clipped one out a few years ago because i liked it so much.
the reading was fantastic. he read part of a short story from his most recent book, the dead fish museum. he is an amazing writer; i found myself hanging on every word and waiting to hear what happened next. i was so impressed that i bought his other book, "orphans," and i love it. he is a poiniant and thoughtful writer who does not waste words. i would truly truly recommend this book if you are looking for something philosophical and touching. the essays are all a bit depressing and dark, but they are so beautifully written that one can't help but like them.
so if you are looking for some great non-fiction, be sure to check him out. and keep your eye on the new yorker and the stranger for more of his work.

festival wrap up, version 2.0

2006-04-26T10:34:00.000-07:00

there were several points during the festival when i just plain stopped breathing because some point or word struck that that magical place in my heart that turns on the string of christmas lights in my head. one of those moments was during the session with makoto fujimura, an artist and writer.
i actually went to two sessions with fujimura, the first of which impressed me so much that i had to go to the second one also. the first session was an interview, where fujimura introduced himself and his work. he is the founder of the international arts movement, a collective of artists working for spiritual and cultural renewal. that's pretty damn cool. but what i liked were his paintings.
during the interview fujimura showed a few slides of his work (i took a few pictures, but i don't have the software yet to upload them, so be patient and maybe in a few months or years i can post them) and they were incredible. here's a little sample from his website:
the part that caught my breath, though, was in the second session when he started talking about his long strange journey through life and his conversion to christianity. he spoke very eloquently about his education and receiving numerous awards, but when he started reflecting on his calling to move to japan and the support he felt from his wife and family, he broke down and started crying. it was plain to see that he was overwhelmed by the goodness in his life and he was purely bewildered at why he should be the recipient of such good fortune.
it was a great lecture in general, not just on his life and family, but also about his art and his writings. i highly recommend poking around his website to learn more about him.

post-conference wrap up: not so clueless after all

2006-04-24T09:17:00.001-07:00

instead of writing one big long post about the entire festival of faith and writing, i decided to break it into bite-sized pieces and write a little bit about each of my favorite sessions. let's start with an easy one: lauren winner.
lauren spoke on friday morning on the topic of "my life as a reader." oh i was excited about this one, partly because i like lauren winner and partly because i know she likes reading good books. she prefaced her speech with a list of classics that she has never read: moby dick, the brothers karamazov, etc. in other words, books that every good reader is supposed to have read. but, she said, reading the classics doesn't make you a good reader - you should read what you like. she confessed to liking those cheesy detective novels i tend to avoid (i think i'm afraid to admit i might like them, so i steer myself into the sections with proust and dostoyevsky, neither of which i have been able to finish), so, empowered, i have a confession to make.
do you remember the movie "clueless"? it came out 1995, and cher, the main character, is one of the first movie heroines i can remember wanting to become.
a little later i was at the book store with my dad, browsing the teen section (i was 9 years old, give me a break) and i came across the clueless book series. i picked up one, "cher negotiates new york," and began to read. a few pages in i was hooked and i couldn't leave the store without it.
sigh, i'm almost embarassed to say that i now own seven books in this series. seven. clueless. books.
i'm cringing in my seat because this is a huge secret about my reading life that i have kept for a long long time. only a few people have ever been allowed to know the extent of my clueless fetish, and now i am broadcasting it to the world.
so there it is. i can admit that i didn't really like "anna karenina," and i've never finished "swann's way." but i have read seven clueless books and loved them, and i'm not ashamed to admit it.
at least not really...

festival dispatch 2

2006-04-21T10:42:00.000-07:00

it is so strange to me to be back on campus after i have been away for a year - not just away from the campus physically, but away mentally and emotionally.
the last time i was here was may of 2005, a year ago. some of my last steps on campus were in the fieldhouse, which was, at the time, packet to the brim with fellow graduates, their parents, and the secret police. and george w. bush. lucky me, he came all the way out to grand rapids, michigan, to speak at my graduation. that's a story for a different time, though.
this weekend i am back on campus, and i must admit, it almost feels as if i have never left. almost.
there are a lot of changes around campus: few of my friends are still here because most of them graduated; my supervisor in the psych office retired; they remodled the dining hall where i ate many of my meals; etc.
some things have not changed, however. the great prarie style buildings, the homogenity (i haven't seen this many white people in one place since graduation), the student newspaper.
i worked on the staff of our student newspaper for several semesters, and i picked up the latest copy this morning. ah chimes, how little ye have changed. they are still talking about the same issues: homosexuality, discernment, and "indie" bands.
but it's almost refreshing to know that, if i wanted, i could come back and pick up right where i left off: sitting in the cramped chimes office, trying desperately to find a red pen that works, wondering if we will ever be able to publish an issue that, for once, doesn't mention the church's view of homosexuality.
o calvin, you are sorely missed.
or not.

dispatches from the writing festival, volume 1

2006-04-20T08:45:00.000-07:00

i just got out of the first workshop session of the conference. charles d'ambrosio read from his short story "north country" and spoke very eloquently about his writing.
i loved the session, because i have found that many authors are terrible speakers and readers. i have a strong belief that authors should rarely be allowed to read their own work out loud, because there is a reason they write, not speak in public. many authors are deadpan and boring when they speak or read, but d'ambrosio was insightful and animated. it was very refreshing, and i'm looking forward to reading more of his work.
next i'm off for the opening session with luci shaw. i'm not at all familiar with her work, but that's why i came here, to discover new writers i've never heard of.
i will try to send out more dispatches as the conference goes on, so watch this space for more of my immediate reflections on the workshops. there is much more to come...

festival time

2006-04-19T09:47:00.000-07:00

two years ago i was finishing my junior year of college, majoring in social work, but thinking that maybe i should have gone into english ("what do you mean i can't write my generalist practice paper on lord byron?"). being interested in writing and literature, i applied for a scholarship to attend the festival of faith and writing, which is held at my school annually.
i didn't really expect to get the scholarship since i was a social work major and my application essay was dashed off between classes, paper writing, and work. but lo and behold, i received a full scholarship to hear katherine patterson, frederick buechner, and joyce carol oates (douglas coupland was also supposed to be there, but for some reason he couldn't make it) speak about their incredible work. i also discovered some new writers that i have been fond of since then, particularly thomas lynch, an undertaker who writes about his work with a tounge-in-cheek humor you wouldn't expect from someone working in such a dismal trade. (sufjan stevens was also there, and i sat about 3 feet away from him in a little tiny room, way back before "illinoise" made him famous. too bad the concert he put on later that evening was pretty boring. i hope he's much better live now than he was when i saw him.)
this year i'm very excited to see lauren winner, the author of "real sex," memoirist mary karr (don't give me that look), and salman rushdie. the conference runs thursday through sunday, so i'm sure i will have much to report on monday. until then, here's the schedule: i'll be taking suggestions on which workshops to attend, because there are way too many to choose from.

self-portrait tuesday

2006-04-18T07:42:00.000-07:00

when i went home for easter last weekend, my mom pulled out a beautiful shawl that someone had knit for her several months ago. the shawl (see picture of me monopolizing said object) was knitted by a friend as part of the prayer shawl ministry. this whole knitting-as-ministry thing is new to me; i had no clue what my mom was talking about when she tried to explain it over the phone. but when i got home and tried it on, i suddenly understood.
according to the prayer shawl ministry homepage, these shawls are knit by volunteers and given to someone who is in need of comfort or blessing. it is supposed to act as a shield or a pair of arms wrapped around you.
it sounds hokey, i know, but having that warm blanket wrapped around your shoulders does something to you. it really is like getting a hug from a million different arms and having a constant sense of warmth and comfort.
i begged and pleaded and tried to bargain with my mom to take it home with me, just for a few days, but she (justifiably) said no. so i decided to make my own shawl. i found the pattern online and bought my yarn last night. the pattern is very simple: cast on 57 stitches and knit 3, purl 3 until it is as long as you want it to be. the shawl homepage has a link about sybolism, like what the colors mean, etc. i didn't pick my colors based on the symbolism, but i think they fit: blue for honesty, peace, communication, and faith; beige for optimism and simplicity.
i made a bet with a friend that i can have this finished before my vacation in may, so i have a lot to do (i can forsee myself knitting on the plane and binding off as we land). but i think these would make great gifts. if you're lucky, you might get a one-of-a-kind, handmade mess of yarn made by yours truly.
watch out.

the love bus soon will be making another run

2006-04-13T07:26:00.000-07:00

i was very excited to see an article in the trib this morning about my bus, the 66 chicago avenue bus. the article insinuates that many people find love on this route, and it seems to be claiming the title "love bus" from the dwindling numbers on the 151.
i love my bus, i truly do. but please, finding love on the 66 bus? i don't think so. sure, there are some good looking people on it every once in a while, and people are usually pretty friendly. but as far as meeting a future spouse? i don't think so, unless your idea of the perfect mate is a 50-something drunk homeless man spouting prophecies in the back seat and smelling of a day-old whiskey hangover. trust me, i've had lots of practice avoiding and fending off these winners, on the 66 bus and on all of my other routes of transport around this city.
so maybe the 66 bus is on its way to becoming the love route. but until an attractive, nice-smelling, non-neurotic young man sits down to talk to me, i won't believe it.
besides, i'm happy with the homeless men anyway.

four blind mice

2006-04-12T08:09:00.000-07:00

last night i was in the living room, talking on the phone, and i heard elmocat in my room making a large ruckus. he goes crazy sometimes, so i didn't really think anything of it.
a little later i went into my room to get something and EEEEEWWWWWW - there was dead little mouse right on the rug by my bed. yuck.
this is not my first encouter with dead mice in my apartment, so i was definitely a bit more prepared than last time. it was still gross, though. poor little guy, laying there all shocked and dead. i felt bad for him, but really, i'm not about to feed and clean up after random mice. we have enough cleaning up to do with elmo and his roaming throw up sessions.
i went to bed last night hoping that there weren't any more mice in my room. around 3 i woke up to elmo making a lot of noise in the living room again. uh oh, i thought. another mouse? where are these things coming from?
sigh. i got up and closed the door so the cat-mouse tangle couldn't find its way to my bed. when i got up this morning i immediately spotted the mouse in the middle of the living room floor. ew. i grabbed some plastic bags and an old shoe box to put it in. i walked over to the dead mouse (this is where the suspensful music starts), picked it up with my hand covered in about 8 plastic bags, dropped it in the shoebox along with the bags, turned around, and

there were two other mice next to the couch.
i can tell this is going to be a fantastic day.
(the mice are coming from the building next door, which was vacant when we moved in last year and just last week started receiving repairs. the poor mice don't have anywhere else to go, but there's no way in hell they're going to stay in my apartment. they can rent a room at the youth hostel downtown, for all i care.)

this ukrainian life

2006-04-10T13:21:00.000-07:00

on saturday mornings and afternoons, you can find me in my room, listening to the radio, just like one of those old-timey pictures where the kids are sitting on the floor, enchanted by the magical sounds coming from that huge brown box in the living room.
or not.
in between cleaning and running around the apartment being crazy, i usually only hear snippets of "this american life," which i adore. but this week i purposely carved out time during my busy day of packing to hop on the train to the suburban wasteland known as joliet to listen to chicagoan davy rothbart of found magazine talk about his childhood visit with mr. rogers.
i'm not going to tell you the whole story, because that would just defeat the whole purpose of this post. davy's story was very close to my heart; he lives about 8 blocks from me and the issues that he and his neighbors are facing are the same issues that my block is having. bix expensive condos are going up where older affordable buildings used to be. the old neighbors are being pushed out by the young professionals. basically we're facing the dreaded g-word: Gentrification.
i'll admit, i have walked past those fancy new condos and thought to myself more than once that it would certainly be nice to be able to afford a brand new apartment with a furnace that doesn't break down every week and soundproof walls so you don't hear the people next door fighting at 2am (and, consequently, being arrested and hauled off by the cops - good riddance). it would be nice to have a spacious kitchen with lots of light and an oven that doesn't fill the apartment with natural gas every time you turn it on and trigger the carbon monoxide detector. and it would be really nice to have washers and driers that don't eat your quarters and then not work.
but then i think to myself, no, i like calling the landlord every week to come fix the furnace or reinstall the screens that fell out of the windows and cracked on the sidewalk when they fell three stories. i love my neighborhood, and i will be very sad to leave as i move to uptown at the end of the month.
you can download the audio of davy's story on the website for "this american life."

the answer was blowin' around my room

2006-04-06T11:00:00.000-07:00

looking over my blog yesterday afternoon, i realized that i have not posted about a book for a while. there are several reasons for this: (1) i have been sick (again) and i can't always concentrate on a book when i'm sick; i think following soap opera love affairs is confusing enough for my congested brain; (2) now that spring is here there is so much to do outside of the house, so that keeps me away from the growing pile of books on my dresser; and (3) it's just too damn nice outside to stay in the house and look out the window at the sunshine. but i did manage to finish one book this week, bob dylan's "chronicles, volume I."
this cryptic autobiography came out in 2004, and i bought it several months after it came out, but i have never gotten around to reading it until now. the book had gotten only good reviews and it was in the new york times list of top ten books of 2004, but i still shyed away from it, partly because i think i was worried i would be disappointed after waiting so long for dylan's own story. i have read countless other books about dylan: books about his tours, his childhood, his music, etc. and most of them were pretty good. but this, this was different because it is straight from bob's mouth. direct from the source. the true words of a genius.
if you haven't already guessed, i wasn't disappointed by the book. i liked it because it was poetic and beautiful, just like bob (well, at least he used to be beautiful, but not so much these days when he looks like a dried up raisin wearing a cowboy hat). i really enjoyed reading about bob's early days in the twin cities, because i have two sisters in minneapolis, and when i visit we sometimes track down bobby's old haunts (we had dinner at the loring pasta bar once, which used to be gray's drugstore, where bob rented a tiny room on the second floor - now i can tell everyone that i've been in bob dylan's bedroom).
but more than just reading about bob's early days, i appreciated hearing his side of the story on why he never wanted to be the messiah that the rest of us have made him out to be. he never wanted to be the spokesperson of a generation, but that's what people did when he wrote songs like "blowin' in the wind" and "just a pawn in their game." i can understand now that he didn't want to be pinned down to that one image, and i think he was smart to do that because he has been able to grow his fan base for the last 40 years simply by doing his own thing. not many other people can say that; like dylan's contemporary, donovan. what happened to him? the only song people associate with him is "mellow yellow," THE ANTHEM OF A GENERATION. sure.
so overall, i'm glad i waited. it was well worth the wait to hear from my bobby.

pink shmink

2006-04-04T08:08:00.000-07:00

do you want to know what people are talking about in chicago? not tom delay resigning, not saddam facing genocide charges, not even "brokeback mountain" coming out on dvd this week. no, we are talking about the CTA and the new elevated train line, the pink line.
pink. the city is in an uproar that the CTA let schoolkids vote on the new color, and they chose pink.
being a CTA expert, i am here to answer some frequently asked questions about this new line and make it all a little less confusing.
"does riding the pink line make me gay?"
no, but riding the brown line does make you smell like poop.
"will adding a pink line make the city gay?"
yes, of course. and the cubs are going to win the world series this year.
"isn't there a less offensive color that we could use instead?"
what do you mean, "less offensive"? would the mulatto line be any better? or maybe the dirty-mexican-brown line. yeah?
"why doesn't the pink line go to boystown, where all the gay men live?"
because gay men in chicago have better taste than to live on any train line that is the color of a stuffed baby rabbit.
"what other colors do you suggest for the next route?"
oh, maybe chartreuse, turquoise, smog-covering-the-top-of-the-sears-tower-gray, or smokers lung green. all the colors of our lovely city.

they are trying to break my heart

2006-04-03T08:32:00.000-07:00

nearly one year ago, on a warm spring night, i spent the evening at the vic theatre, listening to wilco play their hometown. video cameras floated around on huge metal arms in front of the stage and microphones were strategically placed on the stage and over the audience (the band was recording for a dvd which was never released - maybe someday it will be...we can only hope). and i sat in the balcony, watching and listening to chicago's hometown heroes (and also wondering if the boy i was with had invited me because he liked me or because he knew i liked wilco - it appeared to be the latter, because we lost touch shortly after the show when he moved back to nebraska or wherever the hell he was from). anyway, the show was great. and the live cd, "kicking television," came out several months ago to rave reviews. i knew that i wanted the cd, nay, NEEDED the cd, because i was there! i was at that show and i wanted to get the cd as proof. but, i did not know that the double album was retailing for around $25, which always seemed a bit steep to me. so i put off buying the album until i had a good excuse to drop 25 bucks on it.
and what better excuse than a 30% off coupon from borders! hallellujiah! the skies opened and the rain cleared and behold, the cd was only $19.06 (with tax). and so she bought it. and listened to it all day and all night. and all this morning. and she loves it.
i don't think i love it just because i was there, although i definitely think that's a factor (on the first cd, when jeff says, "isn't it past your bedtime?" i can see his shaggy haired kids dancing in the balcony across from me. and on the second cd, when they play "heavy metal drummer" and the pre-recorded drum part doesn't work until the end, i was there, i saw that. and it was great. i was even there when the guitar player tried to hop up on the amp but fell down and laughed at himself during the encore.). but i think i like the cd because it is truly great. wilco is a great band. their music is touching and heartfelt and truly chicago at its core. it's obvious that they love their city, and we the city love them for that.
so it was definitely a well-spent $19.06. i'm sure i'll be listening to this cd for a long long time.

self-portrait tuesday

2006-03-28T07:23:00.000-08:00

i am such an idiot.
on friday afternoon i was headed to a conference (because i'm just so important that they needed me to speak). i headed down to the subway and i heard a train coming. i sprinted down the steps and saw that it was the southbound train - that's my train! i thought. unfortunately, the people walking down the steps in front of me must have been going north, because they slowed down.
"excuse me!" i yelled, "EXCUSE ME!!"
i pushed past the group of old ladies in front of me (sorry, gram) and suddenly it felt a bit as if i was flying.
uh-oh. that's never good.
finally, after what seemed like 6 hours in the air but was actually more like .6 seconds, i landed. right on my ankle. high heels and all. ouch.
i hobbled onto the train and made my way south. when i got to chinatown, the hotel was about a six-block walk (of course). my ankle was feeling okay by then, so i walked it. big mistake. by the end of my presentation my ankle was swollen to the size of a grapefruit and i could harly walk.
so that was on friday, and this picture was taken last night, monday. it's still swollen and bruised and i couldn't even fit my shoes on yesterday, so i had to wear flip flops to work.
i think i learned my lesson, though. i will never run for a train ever again. or at least until my foot isn't so swollen.

"i like last names with two syllables"

2006-03-23T13:43:00.000-08:00

oh dan brown. giving away valuable secrets about your fantastic novels. how will you ever sleep at night, knowing that someone might be ripping off YOUR book?

kitty kat

2006-03-23T07:39:00.000-08:00

i've written several posts about elmo, my roommate's cat, but i have never posted a picture of him. here he is, in all his shedding, purring splendor.
oh elmo, i will miss you when i leave. i will miss your orange hair sticking to all of my black sweaters and pants. i will miss you flopping around on my bed at night when i'm trying to sleep and walking on my stomach. i will miss your old-man-smoker's meow, which actually sounds more like a gravel pit being scraped with a giant piece of sandpaper. i will miss stepping on you when you constantly get in my way. i will miss chasing you around my room in the morning to make sure you don't stay in there and throw up on my bed. i will certainly miss the times when you scratch on the bathroom door when i'm in the shower, waiting to hop in the tub and lick up all the leftover water (hey, at least you don't drink out of the toilet).
but i really will miss you crawling on my lap when i'm sitting on the couch reading, finding just the right spot, and curling up into a ball to sleep while i lose myself in yet another heart-wrenching story. and i will miss your front paws draped over my legs as i drift off to sleep at night. and i will certainly miss making up songs about you and singing them to my roommates while you cower in my closet.
but most of all i will miss that nails-on-the-chalkboard meow of yours.
me-ow.

teehee!

2006-03-22T07:54:00.000-08:00

alas, i have not yet found another book to read yet, partly because of my dilemma of finding a good one, and partly because i've been a little distracted by these:

and the wonderful person who sent them. thanks again, john.

a heartbreaking work of staggering beauty

2006-03-20T07:18:00.000-08:00

o love.
yesterday afternoon i finished "look homeward, angel." i cried and cried. it was so beautiful and heartbreaking and lovely; i wish it would have never ended. that's when you know you've picked out a good book - when the story follows you around long after you have finished reading it and your heart breaks for all the tragedy and beauty of the characters you have come to know and love.
but now there is a problem, and this happens every time i read a great book: i don't know what to read next. i know that everything else will pale in comparison to mr. wolfe, and since i believe that every book deserves an equal chance, i don't dare pick up one that i know will be good because i don't want to judge it against one that broke my heart. i don't think i'm explaining myself very well, but suffice to say that my next review won't be nearly as glowing. how depressing. but how lovely that i found another book to add to my long list of favorites.

o lost

2006-03-15T10:27:00.000-08:00

a friend asked me last night what i thought of the book i'm reading, "look homeward, angel." i told him that i really really liked it, but when he asked why, i blanked.
why DO i like this book?
"well," i bumbled, "he was, like, totally...visionary. i mean, he wrote this in, like, the 1930s, or maybe the 1920s, but it sounds like it's totally modern. i mean, he writes like jack kerouac or dave eggers, but he wrote it so long ago. it's just, like, amazing. i don't know. it's just good."
so there you have it. i like it because it's good.
and in an effort to spare you from my further blundering prose, check out this random website i stumbled across to read an excerpt from what is fast becoming one of my favorite books.

sisterly love

2006-03-14T07:55:00.000-08:00

i apologize for not writing much about my reading lately. to be honest i've fallen a bit behind. i'm still reading "look homeward, angel" by thomas wolfe and i'm definitely enjoying it. it's just that there are so many other things going on right now that i don't have a lot of time or energy to read. i promise that i will review the book as soon as i am done with it, though, and i have a long list of books to read next.
for instance, my sisters and i started a tradition a few years ago of a "sister book club." since the five of us are scattered across the country (two on the east coast, two in the twin cities, and me in chicago) it's hard for us to get together to talk and discuss a book, so what we have done in the past is pick a book and discuss it over email. it works out really well for several reasons:
1. we all get to say what we want without anyone interrupting or changing the subject.
2. sometimes (at least for me) it's easier to be open and honest in writing rather than in real life.
3. there aren't any time limits to the discussion, like how most book clubs meet for an hour or two and then never get to talk about the book again.
4. we don't have to even attempt to find a time when we are all free to talk. three of my sisters have kids, the other works two part time jobs, and i spend most of my day cooped up in an office, so the chances of us all being able to talk at one time are slim to none.
and that, my friends, is why i love the sister book club. we have read several books; the ones i can think of right now are "dive from clausen's pier," which we read because it takes place in our hometown of madison, wi., and "heaven lake," which we enjoyed much more than "clausen's pier." our next selection is "my sister's keeper," which seems appropriate for our group. i'm sure we will have a lot to say about the book, since we are all very opinionated, especially when it comes to reading materials.

happy happy birthday

2006-03-13T07:53:00.000-08:00

a very happy belated birthday to jack kerouac (belated as in his birthday was yesterday and also belated as in he died in 1969). jack (we're also on a first name basis) is one of my favorite writers. "the dharma bums" is pure genius, as is "on the road," and of course i love his poetry. there is a haiku i came across several years ago that goes something like this (i can't find the exact quote):

those boy scouts
are smart fuckers
for such little little kids

so again, happy birthday, jack. we miss you.

"but let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious."
-the dharma bums

more mobsters

2006-03-09T08:50:00.000-08:00

part three of the flash mob article is up now, and he discusses one of my very favorite things: mcsweeneys. dude, don't diss my guilty pleasure, even if it is just another passing phase of the whole hipster movement.

on books and bedbugs

2006-03-08T10:57:00.000-08:00

first and foremost, the MLA released the librarian-nominated list of books to read before you die. "to kill a mockingbird" was the top choice (excellent choice). apparently the kama sutra was nominated several times, but not included in the list. and, not suprisingly, "the davinci code" only received one nomination. that makes the score 1,424,849 for librarians, 0 for dan brown. hah.
my additions to this list? "zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance," "a tree grows in brooklyn," "dandelion wine," "walden," and pretty much every other book on my bookshelf.
the bedbug topic continues to haunt me. chicagoist posted this afternoon about a chicago woman suing a hotel for $2 million for damages caused by bedbugs. *shudder* i'm STILL traumatized by my bedbug fiasco. it's like a really bad nightmare when you wake up with all those red marks on your arms because you know those little creatures are crawling all over you at night and sucking your blood. yuuuck!

all that you can't leave behind

2006-03-06T07:57:00.000-08:00

when i was a kid i used to go in my dad's office in the basement to check my hotmail, back when we had dial up and an external modem that always went dead after a few minutes (annoying!). but i remember looking at all the books that lined the walls of his office while i waited for the modem to work again. i was fascinated by the names of the books and the covers. there were so many to read and they all sounded intriguing.
fast forward to several years later. my parents are in the new house and the books are on shelves in the basement. any time i went home for vacation i would go down in the basement and choose a book at random - maybe some tolstoy for this weekend, or some bill bryson for this afternoon. and i always came away with a good book. sometimes i would take stacks of them up to the living room and leave them scattered around the house as i started one, left it on the couch, and started another one because that one sounded interesting too.
several weekends ago i went home to see my a sister and niece, and we had lunch with my dad. he told us that he is getting rid of a bunch of his books (a bunch being about 90% of them). i went down to the basement to check it out, and lo and behold, the floor was covered with stacks of books waiting to be donated to the library.

i stood in front of those books not even knowing where to begin looking. there were so many that i had become familiar with over the years, but even more that i was waiting to read. i started pawing through, pulling out one book after another because it was just too good to give up. i grabbed "the things they carried," "the vintage bradbury," "the adventures of huckleberry finn," so many books that i loved. after a while i had a towering stack that i wanted to take back with me.

i knew that i couldn't take them all, so i had to narrow it down to about four or five. but next time, you just wait - i'll have my own mansion with an entire floor dedicated just the library. and i will take all those books back with me and i'll have cute boys to carry them to arrange them for me.

shamrock-y goodness

2006-03-02T13:32:00.000-08:00

as a serious ice-cream connosseur, i don't joke around when it comes to milkshakes. that is why march is my favorite time of the year (as far as ice-cream seasons go). two words: shamrock shakes. just writing it makes my mouth water.
but it's a damn shame that i decided to give up ice-cream for lent this year, so that means i will be missing out on my annual treat. however, i noticed a post on chicagoist about their love affair with the cold green goodness, and they included a recipie! i don't know why i didn't think of this before! i could have shamrock shakes for breakfast, lunch AND dinner. oh, the possibilities...

mobster

2006-03-02T08:05:00.000-08:00

part two of the flash mob article has been posted on harpers. i'm actually on the edge of my seat waiting for part three next week.

i am kiki b.

2006-03-01T08:33:00.000-08:00

on monday night i (finally) finished "i am charlotte simmons," tom wolfe's most recent novel. it took me a long time to get through it, partly because it is about 700 pages long and partly because i kept picking it up and putting it down. i adore tom wolfe's nonfiction writing and i have read most of his nonfiction books ("the electric kool-aid acid test," "the kandy-kolored tangerine-flake streamline baby"). i have even read his first novel, "the bonfire of the vanities." and i enjoyed it. sort of. just like i sort of enjoyed charlotte simmons.
the problem i have with this book is that it was a bit like watching a car accident - you know what's coming and it's going to be bad, but you can't look away. charlotte simmons' first year of college is like that car accident. she comes from a hick town of about 400 people in the blue ridge mountains of north carolina. she receives a scholarship to attend dupont university, a school of 6,000 students in pennsylvania. you can see where this is going.
charlotte arrives at the university feeling like an outcast because of her accent, her out of date clothes, and bookwormish habits. she finds that her roommate and many of her peers only want to get drunk and sleep around. charlotte is appalled! and yet she somehow finds herself spending more and more time at the frat house with a certain boy who just happens to be the Big Man on Campus. hmm.
about halfway through the book, the BMOC invites charlotte to a formal dance that is held at a hotel in washington, d.c. charlotte, as naive as she is, thinks that she will have her own hotel room after the dance. uh uh, sweetie pie. she and said boy toy are sharing a room and guess what happens. the next day, the bastard drives her home and then proceeds to tell everyone on campus about how he had to "shake the dust of of her" or whatever vulgar term he came up with.
the rest of the book is about charlotte trying to save her face after being disgraced by this stupid frat boy. but somehow during this time, two other boys just happen to fall in love with her. and of course after failing her exams and falling into a deep depression, charlotte snaps out of it and finds herself as the girlfriend of the star basketball player. and that's where the book ends. like every college girl's fantasy, she ends up dating the best player on the team and everyone on campus knows her again, but this time for a different reason. (sorry to ruin the end for you, but it was pretty obvious from the beginning that if wolfe decided to take the fairy tale route, she would end up with jojo).
sigh. tom, i adore you. i love your writing. but your novels leave me empty. i would certainly like to recommend this book just because i love you so much, but i don't think i can. i guess i'll just have to go back to "radical chic & mau-mauing the flak catchers."
up next on my list is "the heart is a lonely hunter," which i am not even a quarter of the way into.

crap, crap, and more crap

2006-02-27T10:08:00.000-08:00

oh dear, it seems that the book world is cursed - authors are stealing each other's work and making up lies left and right. according to the BBC, dan brown may have stolen another author's ideas for his novel, "the davinci code." of course why he would have to steal to make that shit up is beyond me. but what boggles my mind even further is that the book won the 2005 "book of the year" award from the british book awards. of course this year they have nominated sharon osbourne's autobiography, so i guess i shouldn't be too suprised.
but seriously, dan brown? come on, people, that book was so crappy it shouldn't even be allowed to take up room on the shelves of our nation's precious bookstores. except for maybe barnes and noble - crappy books belong in crappy stores. oops, did i just say that?

isn't it ironic?

2006-02-24T07:53:00.000-08:00

there was a young man waiting at my bus stop this morning drinking coffee from a beer stein.
ah, to be hip and ironic.
i have been living on the fringes of hipster-dom for the past several years, but i have never been able to fully integrate myself into the culture because i find it so incredibly aggravating. the whole premise of the "movement" (if that's what you want to call it) is to be an individual. this can be accomplished by wearing funky clothes, such as moon boots with pink tights, and listening to indie bands with witty names (clap your hands say yeah, new pornographers) but then disowning them when they garner attention in the real world and claim that you were listening to them "before they sold out." to be a real hipster you have to wear chuck taylors and stovepipe jeans and listen to your ipod after you have downloaded itunes on your imac. you live in williamsburg or wicker park in a warehouse-converted loft apartment with your cat nietzche and a few other hipster friends. after you get off work at the record store or the IT company, you read camus and kafka and then discuss them over black coffee at filter late into the night.
so what happened to individuality? how is it that i can predict the lifestyles of all the hipsters i see on my bus? how can a movement that is so based on the individual be structured around being the same? this article from harper's echos my thoughts on this same topic. be sure to check the link again, because it is the first in a serial of articles about the deindividuation of urban hipsters today.

becoming more and more famous

2006-02-22T13:18:00.000-08:00

it looks like my little office is getting more famous every day. just this morning we were mentioned in the new york times. check out this article - we are on page two. go NTIC!

more boy craziness

2006-02-21T07:40:00.000-08:00

you may have laughed at my post about joey cheek, the cute speedskater that i have been drooling over, but i'm not the only one gushing over hot olympians. for instance, on saturday there were four other girls sitting on my living room floor discussing apolo anton ohno's disheveled soul patch and lovely eyes. and then this morning i ran across an article in the new york times wherein the author referenced a website called hotathletes.org.
talk about weak in the knees. good lord. besides all the usual players, such as apolo and bode, they profile the lesser known athletes, such as erjon tola (huh?). and they even have pictures of kris freeman's six pack abs.
could these olympics BE any better?

happy anniversary!

2006-02-19T16:44:00.000-08:00

this is my 100th post! my roommates suggested that i give myself a trophy, but since i'm at home with dial-up, it did not want to work for me.
anyway, i never thought i would get into blogging, but here i am, 100 posts later, and i'm still obsessed with this stupid thing! thanks for reading it and taking an interest in my random digressions. since i started blogging about books, my reading life has never been so organized. it is so much fun for me to look back on all the books i have read during the last six months, starting with david sedaris and now in the middle of tom wolfe ("my name is charlotte simmons"). my reading is often erratic and eclectic, but i do it in earnest; my reading is my life, and i'm glad that i have been able to share this part of my life with you.

survey time

2006-02-17T12:35:00.000-08:00

here's my take on a fun little survey going around the blog world.

four jobs i've had:
1. working in bath and bedding section at j.c.penney's
2. workin' the sales floor at eddie bauer
3. secretary for the psychology office at my school
4. research assistant for a non-profit

four movies i could watch over and over:
1. almost famous
2. the sound of music
3. midnight cowboy
4. clueless

four places i have lived:
1. grew up in madison, wi
2. went to school in grand rapids, mi
3. lived in minneapolis, mn for a summer
4. chicago!

four of my favorite TV shows:
1. my name is earl
2. what not to wear
3. the daily show
4. conan o'brien

four places i have vacationed:
1. the west coast
2. the east coast
3. italy
4. london

four of my favorite foods:
1. cherry garcia ice cream
2. chana masala from raj darbar
3. cinnamon raisin bagels from bagels forever in madison
4. avacado, cheese, and sprouts on wheat bread with a little mayo

four albums i can't live without:
1. sufjan stevens' illinoise
2. the freewheelin' bob dylan
3. the grateful dead's skull and roses
4. the beatles white album

four websites i visit daily:
1. yahoo email
2. disdressed, my sister's blog
3. mcsweeney's
4. chicagoist

four places i would rather be right now:
1. southern california
2. northern california
3. hawaii
4. the caribbean

four items in my purse:
1. kafka's the penal colony
2. an umbrella
3. mittens
4. my w-2

there, now you know all about me. have fun, kids!

will you be my valentine?

2006-02-15T07:58:00.000-08:00

last night i walked along michigan avenue on a warm-ish winter evening after spending a few hours at the museum of contemporary art. i walked next to the old watertower, under the canopy of white christmas lights. i passed the homeless woman with the "god bless you" sign sitting in front of the prada store. i watched the couples walk past, arm in arm, the women wearing flounced skirts and sandals despite the whipping wind. i smiled at the crazy man who told me "hey gorgeous, happy valentine's day." and i waited patiently in line at the virgin megastore to buy the new cat power CD and gave my change to the homeless veteran in front of eddie bauer.
on the way home i looked around at all the people sitting quietly on the bus, waiting for their stop and wanting to get home after a long day. i wondered how many of them would go home to an empty apartment, dreading the dark and cold that would greet them. i wondered how many were looking forward to a bright warm house filled with loved ones and the smells of home cooked food. and then i wondered how many would be lucky enough to go home to a warm apartment with two loving roommates and a ridiculous cat (probably not many). on the bus i felt happy, knowing that i could go home to the simple pleasures of a good book, a new CD, and a warm place to read.
what a great way to spend valentine's day.

boy crazy

2006-02-14T09:30:00.000-08:00

honestly, you can't expect me to read anything when the olympics are on! last night was the first chance i had to actually sit down and watch the action. my favorite event of the evening? joey cheek.
my heart was all a-flutter when mr. cheek won his gold medal for the 500 last night. he pulled off that nasty-ass swimming cap thing and i thought, ow, now THAT is an athlete. this morning i looked up his profile on the olympics website (yes, i know i'm a stalker) and was pleasantly suprised to note that he likes playing the guitar and producing movies (of course he also likes potato guns and online investing, but i can overlook those flaws). the only piece that i couldn't find was information about a wife or family, which was encouraging...

passing thoughts

2006-02-10T11:25:00.000-08:00

a coworker loaned me his tattered copy of franz kafka's "the penal colony," which i began perusing over lunch today. one meditation in particular made me stop and smile before i continued with my oreos.
the author is riding the tram when he notices a young woman near the door, readying herself to step off at the next stop. the woman wears black, and "She has a lot of brown hair and stray tendrils on the right temple." he continues to observe her, and then concludes, "At that point I asked myself: How is it that she is not amazed at herself, that she keeps her lips closed and makes no such comment?"
the same thought has occurred to me many times, particularly when i am with my family. often when i am with my nieces or nephew i stop and gasp when i realize how incredibly perfect they are. they all have five fingers on each hand, they all have beautiful blue eyes, and they have their own little tiny eyelashes. they learn and grow so quickly. they are all truly amazing, and yet they probably have no idea just how amazing they are.
like kafka, i often wonder why we don't pass out in bewilderment when we realize the magnificence of our own selves.

a february poem

2006-02-08T10:55:00.000-08:00

i've written before about the writer's almanac, which is emailed to me every morning. i thought this morning's poem was especially great, so i decided to share it with you.

"Sonnet" by Elizabeth Bishop

I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling finger tips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing, swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!

There is magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.

a sad, sad evening

2006-02-07T08:05:00.000-08:00

i finished "julie and julia" last night, and i think i'm probably the only person who has ever read that book and cried. and i'm not ashamed to admit it, dammit!
at the very end of the book, julie finishes the project and ends with a perfect chocolate cake. but several months later she finds out that julia childs died! oh no! i was so heartbroken that i had to put the book down and just cry for a few minutes. here she had spend a year going through this cookbook, finding crazy ingredients, spending obscene amounts of money, and having many breakdowns along the way. and even though the two julias had never met, julie felt that she had known julia as closely as a best friend.
sadness.
so to get my mind off of how depressed i was, i started the other book i picked up, "reading lolita in tehran." the subtitle of this one is "a memoir in books." uh oh, did she just say "memoir"? yes, MEMOIR. oh boy, here it comes. i know, i know, i said i was going to give up memoirs, but i just couldn't resist, because i have been wanting to read this one for a long time. so please don't yell at me - i promise this is the absolute last one (at least for a while...).

back in the saddle again

2006-02-06T07:46:00.000-08:00

after another reading dry spell, i'm back into the groove and feelin' good. i decided over the weekend to give up on "the washington story," because i just could not force myself to keep reading. i have said billions of times that life is too short to read books you don't enjoy, but sometimes it's hard to take your own advice.
so i picked up "julie and julia" by julie powell, which i am enjoying immensely. several years ago this woman (julie) decided to cook her way through julia childs' "mastering the art of french cooking" in one year. that's 524 recipes, most of which include such obscure ingredients as calves' foot, in 365 days - and she works full time. is this woman crazy? i think yes.
i also work full time and i usually don't have to stay late at the office, except for the occasional conference prep day/evening/midnight, and my job is not particularly demanding, but when i get home there is no way i want to wrestle with a live lobster and then whisk up its insides to make a nice salad. no way.
but i think that's why i am enjoying the book so much, because i can live vicariously through julie and her husband (even though they eat liver, ew). through julie's mutterings and musings, i am right there in that tiny kitchen, smelling the overcooked lamb and mushed cauliflower (ew ew). and i am THERE when the bathroom sink starts spewing black shit everywhere (ew ew EW!).
the project began with a blog, which gained a cult following as the project progressed. and i don't mean to sound like a critic here, but julie's writing has not exactly gone beyond basic blogging, which is the only part of the book that doesn't get a full 5 points in my book. don't get me wrong, i LOVE this book - it's hilarious and i would definitely read it again. but i think that because it started as a blog, it remained a bit bloggy (oh dear, i'm making up words again) in the translation to paper and glue.
overall, though, it's very entertaining and touching. highly, highly recommended. you will be inspired - so go out there and cook up those calf brains.

the kiki story

2006-02-03T08:07:00.000-08:00

with all the drama in my life right now and work kicking me in the ass, i haven't had much time or desire to spend my small amount of well-deserved free time reading crappy books since i haven't been able to visit the library lately. the only book i have check out right now is "the washington story," which, i think, i have been lugging around for the past two months. i just can't force myself to finish this book, and i think it's because i went straight from "crossing california," which i loved, to this one, which is the sequel.
i really enjoyed "crossing california" because i felt that the book actually had something to say: sure, it was a story about a bunch of people living in west rogers park and their daily catastrophes, but it was also a story about growing up. the kids in the story were at that point that all teenagers eventually reach - the point when you start to realize that life exists outside of your family and school; the point when you start to realize that the world is bigger than you and your boy dilemmas and extra math homework; the point when you start to realize that there are some things you can't change. so i liked that part, and i was also really excited about the book because i noticed a trend that is still true today.
california avenue is a north-south street about three blocks west of my house. in the book, the characters recognize that anyone who lives west of california has more money than the people who live east of california. the story takes place much farther north of my house (they live up around devon street, and i'm at chicago avenue), but they are still talking about my streets; the only difference is that it is completely opposite in my neighborhood. when people come to visit, we tell them not to go west of california because that is the border between the ukrainian village (the safe neighborhood where i live) and east garfield park (where the drug dealers live). so i really enjoyed the book, not just because of that, but because it was well-written and a great read.
"the washington story," on the other hand, reads more like a soap opera. the back cover touts it as a story of chicagoans during the harold washington campaign in the early 1980s (washington was the first black mayor of chicago), so i figured it would be a continuation of the race discussion that was begun in the first book. boy, was i wrong.
despite the rave reviews this book got from the papers and other press, i am not impressed. the story has been more about jill going to college and losing her virginity and not so much about harold washington. boo. that's great that jill has been able to get in touch with her sexuality, but i care less about that than i do about the breakdown of the chicago politics Machine and the election of the city's first (and so far, only) black mayor.
sigh. how disappointing.

oopsie

2006-02-01T08:17:00.000-08:00

james frey just keeps getting into more and more trouble.
first there was the initial accusation that his memior was not all truth. then oprah ripped him a new one. and now his editor is dropping him.
oops.
i guess we can all learn something from mr. frey's mistake - it's okay for the president to lie, but when you dupe oprah, man, you've got it coming.

readingkiki

it's over (sort of)

done and done

one of these things is not like the other

now i'm REALLY cool

a day in the life

sometimes i've believed as much as six impossible things before breakfast

this is IT

good times

vacation, all i ever wanted

a little help for my friends

weekend update

smarty-pants

this one's for dad

foreclosure investing 101

"oh, don't get excited; put the damn thing on!"

more press

extreme makeover, kiki edition

the plan for tonight?

sound advice...

it seemed like a good idea at the time

stuck in the middle with you

more bragging

neighborhood history buff

'i'm having a twin [cities] experience...'

o happy day

traveling mercies

back in black

this is the end, my only friend, the end

welcome back (again)!

short hiatus

sweet relief

how hot is it?

filming quebec in chicago?

full disclosure

a circus punk marching band?

fear and loathing in chicago

battle stories

hot summer days

memories

*cringe*

just in case

fantastic free fun

camilla engman

dammit, my family's cute

killer babies

deep thoughts

CTA nerd

the book of kiki

why did i waste my time?

let's get the record straight

self portrait tuesday

the kiki chronicle

baby talk

a reflection on my walk to work

guess who's back

such a shame

a-choo!

back to work (again)

festival wrap up, part infinity

festival wrap up, version 2.0

post-conference wrap up: not so clueless after all

festival dispatch 2

dispatches from the writing festival, volume 1

festival time

self-portrait tuesday

the love bus soon will be making another run

four blind mice

this ukrainian life

the answer was blowin' around my room

pink shmink

they are trying to break my heart

self-portrait tuesday

"i like last names with two syllables"

kitty kat

teehee!

a heartbreaking work of staggering beauty

o lost

sisterly love

happy happy birthday

cringe