Visitor #3

This weekend my friend Alissa came to Chicago for a visit, her first here. We did lots of fun things: saw Why? play Friday night, went to the Lincoln Park zoo, got in an argument deciding whether to go to John Hancock or Sears Tower, went to John Hancock's Signature Room for martinis, had dinner at the Fiddlehead Cafe (that place where I saw that Swarthmore alumni thing going on that I wrote about several posts back. Sorry, I don't link you to previous posts like other bloggers do, not because I don't know how, I do, but because I'm just lazy), brought people from different periods of my (recent) life (Skidmore, Saratoga, now) together at Rainbo and had a lot of fun, found ourselves in a taqueria turned late night karaoke bar (all the songs were in Spanish), woke up too early this morning and spent a little time in bed watching Gossip Girl (A's call, not mine, and three-quarters into it, after Chuck told S "Your life is over, slut!," A decided she really liked it), then walked around my neighborhood, had lunch with Maggie, and called it a weekend. Alissa makes me laugh differently than I usually laugh, orders for me in restaurants, calls me Gedz, and has the most entertaining interactions with strangers I have ever seen. Alissa also says "hella" now; it's weird, but it was a hella fun weekend.

Having a friend coming to visit and showing her around my new city really made me feel like I live here. I liked it, except that all the fun and the little-to-no sense of responsibility I have right now has made me start to feel a little anxious. Yes, I am temping, so I am "working," and making money, and also looking for things, but I don't really know what I'm looking for. I took advantage of having someone who knows me quite well here this weekend to get an outsider perspective on what I should be doing. We brainstormed on my skill set and interests and concluded that if I give up on the editorial pursuit, I should be a cab driver. I, however, don't really want to be a cab driver, so I really have some thinking to do.

I know these questions, this anxiety isn't unique to me. Duh. It's probably one of the hardest things most people have to deal with, figuring out what they want to do. I don't really need to figure that out yet. I just want to find a job that could potentially introduce me to something I want to do, and if it doesn't accomplish that task, I would deal with it for awhile, and probably enjoy it, as long as my coworkers were people I liked and the dress code didn't mandate super conservative attire in varying shades of drab.

Maybe this is why there's that book about parachutes. I haven't read it though; I am afraid of heights--unless there are martinis at the top.

I don't write my stuff anymore; I just kick it from head--BAM!

I rarely explain my post titles because they are either 1) obvious or 2) dumb. (Also, I usually don't title them until the end, at which point, I am done writing. Duh.) Because I am taking you back to this one does not mean I have dismissed it from the "dumb" category, only that it was chosen to explain the sort of random, just-writing-because-it's-been-a-week-style of this post that I'm about to write while it also alludes to a song performed by a band I saw play on Sunday night, something I will briefly perhaps write about below.

Last week I started a temp position at a health care group that provides affordable health care to young and expectant mothers. The work itself (data entry of handwritten applications into the online database) is not thrilling, but the motions are so repetitive that I can easily think of other things and talk with my fellow temp and still do the job. I have learned in the last four days that there are a lot of mothers in Chicago who are years younger than I am. It scared me when I came across an applicant with my exact birth date who already had 4 kids, and she's not nearly the youngest with a family already this big. I try not to think too much about their circumstances because I don't know more than what's on the paper, so maybe they have great boyfriends or husbands, familial support, or maybe they don't. We try to keep it light, creating our own catalogue of "Great Baby Names in 2008," subtitled: "Names by Babies for Babies!" (Too far? OK, no subtitle). To date the tops have been two sisters named Parris and Phrance and today, I saw two boys China and Korea who just welcomed a sister named Egypt. I guess I have a penchant for geographically-influenced names.

In other news, Jess arrived. She and Ally and I had a marathon hang fest that included exploring Hyde Park, seeing Obama's house, taking a long stroll in the Loop and along the river and Mag Mile, trying pizza my roommate recommended (it was good, but it wasn't pizza), and going to a few bars.

On Sunday, Lauren and I were supposed to go to the Hideout Block party together, but she got guilted into working three extra hours. Ally was considering it, but she was abducted by aliens. So, I ended up there alone. And quite happily alone. It was a nice little break after all the hanging on Friday and Saturday (no offense to A & J, would have happened with anyone, and unemployment and being in a new city have made me very used to my alone time). I saw a Michael Jackson cover band (bad), Rhymefest (pretty okay), the New Pornographers (good!) and Ratatat, not Ratatatat, as some girl kept saying, (better than last time!). I drank a Goose Island IPA (good) and a pulled pork on cibatta sandwich (really good!).

It was great to see the NPs for the first time. Neko Case is pretty rad. Ratatat as I said were better than last time I saw them (summer 2004 I think). They have picked up another member (I think they used to be just two, right?) and some more instruments (it seemed), so they relied less on their video montages and good looks (ok, well they are really tall and have interesting hair) to keep the crowd engaged. They, of course, ended with "17 years," a song whose intro hook is great, but really the only reason why it's so liked, I think... I know, I am not being very sure of my language, facts or opinions here. I'm just kickin litle preemy baby thoughts from my head...

GG101

While still looking at rooms and roommates, Ally told me she met one who was really into Gilmore Girls and "cheesy shit like that," but in a different way than how Jocelyn and the Burkes and I like all that cheesy shit. Somehow our liking it is okay. I'm fine with this approval.

And that said, I'm pretty public about my love of the other GG: Gossip Girl. I told a friend of mine he should give it a try since roughly 4 out of 5 of his closest female friends really like it. Well, he only gave the show 5 minutes last week because he didn't have one of us by his side to explain all the complexities. I think he should give it another chance because he likes having common ground with us, and also enjoys gossip, young girls and MILFs alike, and NY.

So I wrote him this character guide, and since I spent so much (not that much) time on it, I'm making it a post because I don't really feel like writing anything else today and perhaps these steamy sketches (in addition to the steamy posters around town) will make other readers and friends turn into GG viewers.

Here is a character list to help you understand the incestuous web in which these naughty Upper East Side teens have tangled themselves... Oh, and the less fortunate characters live in modest Williamsburg lofts.

Gossip Girl: We don't know who she is. We only know that she knows everything, and as soon as she gets the latest, she blogs about it and everyone in the school has a feed for this blog on their Bberrys. Oddly, I don't think anyone on the show has an IPhone. GG is very fond of the send-off "xoxo" and lives by the motto "you're nobody until you're talked about." Her identity will probably be revealed in a dramatic series finale in which at least two characters will die. GG will likely be someone we have known all along. This series finale will either take place when 1) Blake Lively accepts a contract to model for a comeback shoe (a la Mischa Barton and Ked's) or 2) when a "Melrose Place" or "Moesha" reunion show seems more profitable to the CW than "GG." In literary terms, GG is what we call the "narrator."

Serena "S" Van Der Woodsen: S is what child psychologists would call the Queen Bee. The rest of us, depending on which side you stand, will call her either an idol, an inspiration, a goddess, or a whore, a bitch, a slut, things of that nature. S disappeared from the scene their sophomore year of high school. Rumors flying out of GG's blog suggested she was away at rehab (little too much champagne in the hot tub??... or worse?!), but when she returns, marking the show's start, we find out she was at boarding school for a year, getting away from it all and totally transforming into an understanding, compassionate, level-headed lady. We learn through flashbacks throughout season 1 that she did, however, leave for boarding school on a high (pun!) note: sleeping with her "best friend" B's boyfriend at a wedding, getting trashed at various galas and on holidays, and, a bomb, not dropped til the end of season 1, leaving her and her friend's coke dealer to DIE. In season 1, though, S dates reject Dan "Lonely Boy" Humphrey. He's a reject because he lives in Williamsburg and listens to indie rock. Funny, because everywhere else, that's what they call a hipster.

Blair "B" Woldorff: B, unlike S, is a non-reformed bitch, but she was a virgin until about the end of her junior year and doesn't party as much as S, so she's allowed to be Ms. Judgmental. B dated Nate for years, saw herself marrying him, broke up with him when she found out he slept with S at the wedding, got back together briefly (I think), but then lost her virginity to his best friend Chuck Bass on her birthday. She is now dating a British Lord whose stepmom is boning her ex-bf Nate.

Dan "Lonely Boy" Humphrey: Dan is a hipster. Dan is a super hottie, like most TV nerds turned studs. The East Coast Seth Cohen if that provides any reference point. He also has a hot Dad named Rufus who was previously involved with S's mom Lily (I like her for reasons obvious and not). Dan also has a sister named Jenny. Dan wants to be a writer. His story that he just can't seem to finish is about his seemingly unrequited crush on S that eventually became a true romance. Or something.

Jenny: Dan's sister. She was just a freshman in season 1, and to make up for the lame points attached to her zip code, she becomes the little bitchchild of B and lets her clique boss her around. This leads to lots of drama throughout the season. But she annoys me and isn't nearly as cool as the men in her family, so I'm not gonna say much more.

Nate Archibald: He's not much more than a pretty face. He's likable though, besides the sleeping with his gf's bff at that wedding, but who can blame him? S > B. His dad is in jail for drugs or fraud or something. They don't have much money these days. He's boning a duchess though (as mentioned above) who happens to be the mom of his ex-gf's new bf.

Chuck Bass: He's skeezy, but we kind of like him. He tried to put it in little J at her first big high school party, but big bro Dan and S (on their first date) saved her. As mentioned above, he and B had sex on her birthday. He's now in love with her. But, he stood her up at the airport at the beginning of the summer and spent his vacation in the Hamptons instead, still in love, but distracting himself with non-English speaking slutfaces. He recently gave his friend Nate's mom a giant loan, thinking a "philanthropic" move would make B take him back. We'll see.

Rufus: Dad of Jenny and Dan. In a band. Owns a gallery-recently-turned cafe. Shaky, complicated relationship with ex wife and with ex gf Lily, mom of S. He spent the summer touring with his band. We saw them play once at the end of season 1 when they opened for Luscious Jackson. Can you believe it!?!

Lily: She's the token MILF. Well, MYLF, I should say. She had a wild era like her daughter S. In that time, she dated Rufus. Cuz wild girls only date rock star dudes who open for Luscious Jackson, duh. She is now engaged (or wait, maybe married) to Chuck Bass's dad because he has better social standing than Rufus. This makes Chuck and S siblings, which is awkward because Chuck tried, forcefully, to sleep with S in the kitchen of the Plaza, which he owns, during her first week back. She refused. It would be equally awkward though I suppose if Lily got back with Rufus because then S and Dan would be siblings.

Vanessa: Vanessa is Dan's hot female best friend. She's in love with him, but can't compare to S, so she got involved with Nate somewhere in between the B fiasco and the Duchess. Vanessa spent the summer turning Rufus's aforementioned gallery into a cafe. She seems to still be into Nate. And Dan.


"You know you love me"
"xoxo"
LG

Employ Me, So I Stop Boring You

Dede and Adam were in town this weekend which was lovely. We had dinner and then met up with Ally for a drink. The roadtrippers had to go to bed early, so after giving them a rundown on the household appliances, Ally and I returned to seize another Saturday night in my village. We had a good time at Happy (Asshole) Village and the Inner Town Pub, talking about writing, bed size, and the merits of the film Elf. I also ran into my Skidmore friends Simone and Jack, which was a delightful surprise.

On Sunday, I went to the German American Festival to celebrate a quarter of my heritage. Well, I at least had the intention of going. It didn't look so German. Just looked like those tents we had at Skidmore where only upperclassmen can hang during springtime concerts and Fun Day. Outdoor drinking has its time and place, but it wasn't Lincoln Square, alone in a sea of bros on a Sunday afternoon. Instead I bought shoes and went to Trader Joe's.

I had dinner at Maggie's because she wanted me to meet her roommates, see her pad, and Simone came, too. We had a good dinner, but had to move outside shortly after because the 5 cats started getting to my allergies. When we came back inside there was a man over delivering "tomatoes for the sauce." That's what he told Maggie's roommate to say when she makes the call. Maggie was opening her NetFlix with great excitement when the man said "Whoa, NetFlix is for real? I thought that was some mythical creature like a unicorn. I see ads, but didn't know it really existed. So you just get movies in the mail?" We explained the queue and all that. "And they give you an envelope and everything?? It's self-addressed??" This was incredibly entertaining. That's my blurb overhead of this post, I suppose, though it's sort of a cop out as I was part of the conversation.

I left on that note, so I would have something to laugh about between my sneezes on the walk home, and returned to the abode to watch some Simpson's with Lauren and read more of Kitchen Confidential. I am loving this book. Anthony Bourdain is a total asshole, total stone fox. Reading this is making me miss this summer in Saratoga and the crazy restaurant scene... A little.

I'm at the library right now, in the children's section because there were more free tables. There are no kids here; it's kind of weird. I just ate a monster cookie that Lauren made last night and insisted I bring as a library snack (that's a cookie with oatmeal, PB, M&Ms, chocolate chips). I guess I can play the part of the 5-year old.

Oh hey, a kid just sat down across from me and smiled. He has a cool car folder and a McGraw Hill Social Studies book. Maybe I should go upstairs now.

Read: Honest & Reflective. Not: Cheesy.

Last night I had dinner with my friend Maggie at this place called the Bluebird where we had gone for drinks when I was here in July and decided we would try it for dinner once I returned. We had a great meal, shared a flatbread (aka pizza) and a pork dish and lots of olives and wine. The menu was very similar to that of Max London's actually. Yum, yum.

At one point during dinner we were talking about high school friends and how it's so rare to keep those friendships going really strong. Maggie told me how lucky I am to have what I have with BFF Laura and I thought about this my whole 25-minute walk home in the mist. It is great to have someone who knows you so well still be a close friend after 9 years. It is also great to have Maggie here who has known me since we were little SCOOP roommates. Old friends anchor you in a way that prevents you from changing too much. I obviously have changed a lot between high school and college and now, and change is good, but I have changed in a way that makes sense (I hope). I think if I hadn't, these 5- or 9-year relationships wouldn't exist and I'd instead be friends with people who would be friends with a different me.

That said, I would like to make new friends, too. But am very happy I still have many of the old, even if our friendships will be phone/text/online based for awhile. This sounds like the Girl Scouts song. Or a song called "New Old Friends." New old friends do indeed take time. I don't mean to call Jeff Lewis a Brownie.

After all this thinking, I watched John McCain's speech on my phone in bed and fell asleep and had a dream that Laura did something awful and unforgivable. In this dream, however, we were also watching the Nutcracker in a stadium and there was an interesting mix of high school, Skidmore, and Saratoga people there.

I don't get my psyche.

2012

It's four years down the road, but everybody's talking/screaming on the bus.

The other day when I was hanging out with my friend Amanda we were discussing a former Skidmore peer of ours whom I did not know was a huge conspiracy theorist. I guess I should say a conspiracy theory believer because I don't think he creates any theories of his own. She said specifically that he's always talking about the 2012 apocalypse.

The next day on the Chicago Ave. bus some older man was going on and on about how we will all die in less than 4 years, if not sooner, so we better start repenting now. He had the zeal of the "No Sex" guy in San Francisco, except that guy you can walk away from, and well, I wanted to stay on the bus because I wanted to go home.

Two days later Ally was talking about 2012. But, I don't remember what she said. We went to a large-portions-only Mexican restaurant and my Sangria came in a bowl.

Who else out there is a 2012 believer?

Practicality to My Whiteness

I must admit I am kind of obsessed with my Sigg water bottle. It's pretty, leak-proof, and keeps water cold. Tonight as I was taking a nighttime stroll through the neighborhood to catch up with some people on the phone, I was swinging my Sigg in my phone-free hand. (I probably looked pretty white and stupid.) I realized tonight it's the perfect defense weapon should I ever need it. I didn't have to learn this the hard way, fortunately, but that baby could pack quite the punch with the weight of the water in the metal bottle combined with my great strength. I am guessing it would be less effective if empty, so I should probably remember to always refill or choose being parched when walking alone at night in the name of my safety.

I could just buy pepper spray.

Or just hope for the best as I have all these years of lone nighttime walking.

House Arrest without Internet

I was under house arrest without Internet today because I was waiting for a large UPS shipment and the tracking information was very vague. Fortunately, I got a shipment of 4 boxes yesterday, so I was able to spend the time at home setting up my room.

It looks great. All I need is the new comforter I ordered online to arrive.

Yesterday, while on house arrest without Internet AND without boxes to unpack, I started writing blog posts in Word for future posting, so that is why I have several posts from the last couple days to follow.

This activity reminded me of the episode of the Office when Creed asks Ryan how he can start a blog. Ryan, scared to expose the world to Creed's thoughts, opens a Word document and writes "http://creedsthoughts.blog.com" across the top of the page.

Blurbs Overheard Part Deux-Fus

I was walking around Lincoln Square the other day and looking at the menu for this place called the Fiddlehead Cafe, which a friend had said was good.

The restaurant has the type of windows that lures those interested in outdoor seating, but really they are just big windows that open wide and leave you prey to annoying people walking by.

Annoying Person: You went to Swarthmore??
Confused Father: Uh, yeah?
Annoying Person: Your shirt. It says Swarthmore.
Confused Father: Oh. Yeah. [Clearly not conscious of his wardrobe choices, a little irritated, and enjoying his meal.]
Annoying Person: We both went there. [Points to Small Asian Mate]. Class of '98. What class were you?
Confused Father: [mid-bite] Uh, '92.
Annoying Person: [Speaking on behalf of Small Mute Asian Mate] We loved it. That's where we met.
Confused Father: Ahh. [Looks at family. Like Asian, also mute.]
Annoying Person: Sorry. Didn't mean to disturb your lunch. Nice talking with you!

Ok, so Confused Father was a little jerky maybe, but he was enjoying his food, and Annoying Person was a little dense and should have gotten the clue that Confused Father did not want to talk.

This made Menu-Gazing Professional Eavesdropper laugh because she bought a Skidmore t-shirt before moving here having told her friend Bob who helped her pick it out that it may lead her to new friends. She is going to stop writing in the third person, and she would never wear her Skidmore t-shirt to a restaurant; it's big and more for running...running running or errand running. I would act exactly as Confused Father did if I were approached by any others but Attractive, Seemingly Cool, Mute-Asian-Mate-Free Skidmore Alumni. Call me superficial. I am.