Veena And Neena Saved My Life!

I'm back on the bellydancing. I love the DVDs. Not only am I running, but I'm also doing my farranic (spl?) arms, sidebends, and hip drops.

Two days ago, I was doing some bellydancing with Veena and Neena (the bellydancing twins seen above) and the narrator on the DVD says, "You'll see results in no time," which made me think, will I see results or will I not? I mean, I think what she was saying is soon, I'll see results. But it could also mean, there will not come a time when I see results. Since I used to have a very serious bellydancing regiment and never saw results, I'm kind of banking on not getting much from it, but I sure do love to shake my hips.

Yesterday, the narrator lady asked, "Are you having fun?" and I said, "not really," and she answered, "Good!" Is the woman inside Kimberley's DVD machine happy that I'm not having fun? Hard to say.

Last night I went out dancing with my wonderful sister. We shook what our mama gave us. Apparently, our mama gave us about the same thing since we both dance the same way. I love dancing. I think I'm going to try to go every week. It's not like I have anything else going on. Plus, I feel so good breaking it down.

Cornelius is Staring At Me Like I Should Be Ashamed...

I turned down the apartment offer that I got last night. I'm not having trouble getting offers, but I'm looking for something perfect. I liked the apt a lot and everything was great except the guy was a little too, I don't know. I can't say it without being offensive. He was a hippy. That's the best way to put it.

I had a job interview this morning that I skipped.

No running because it's raining, so I've spent all morning indoors. I think I'll do my bellydancing DVDs later. I've missed them.

I'm not moving to Chicago. It's decided.

Tonight I may check out a queer band that's playing somewhere around here.

In the meantime, I've been spending a lot of time thinking about how I feel like I've been falsely advertised to. I thought all ages divisible by 9 would be great, but 27 is a bust so far.

Onward and upward or some such.

Flipping A Gigantic Coin

There's this thing where once I start moving, I don't want to stop. I mean, I just got here but part of me wants to move on. When the going gets tough...

So, still running uphill to find work and housing. Here's the new question:

Chicago or Boston.

Pros of Boston:
1. already here
2. near my sister (actually I couldn't be closer to her unless I was sitting on her lap)
3. good public transport.
4. on the east coast which means easy access to lots of people i know and some people i love
5. where my school is located
6. could be nice if i could just get a job and a house
7. riva and miles may come here for school next year

Pros of Chicago:
1. really like the vibe
2. good public transport.
3. cheaper than boston
4. good art scene
5. feel like i might fit in better
6. nice queer community
7. in the great midwest

You decide. I'll do whatever you tell me to do.

songs of the day:
Chicago by Sufjan Stevens
New England by Jonathan Richman

Where Is Hashem When I Need Her?

Last night I went to my second housing possibility. When I showed up, I realized that the two women I would be living with were 23 year-old lesbians from Mount Holyoke. (We already knew I’m ageist.) I had constructed in my head this whole angelic scenario where I get there and can't believe how perfect they are. Why? Because their ad had virtually no information in it. I should have known.

So, not only were they baby lesbians, but (where do I start?) they had horse pictures all over their home. I mean all over. And there was no irony to any of it.

Anyone who has known me for more than half an hour knows that I despise horses. There's nothing I hate more than horses except horse-lovers. See the attached picture? That's a sample of the "art" covering their walls. Weird.

I'm pretty sure G-D is angry at me which is why I'm also posting this picture (taken in Minneapolis) where I'm sticking my tongue out at her. G-D is being a meany. Maybe I'm just not appreciative of the things I do have. Something to consider.

I try to have a sense of humor about all of this, but the truth is, nothing is feeling very funny. Job searching is harder than ever (I know my expectations are high, but still...), housing possibilities are non-existent, and it won't stop raining.

G-D, throw me a lifeline!

Reading: Birds of America (liking it, but wondering if I'm going to get tired of her style)
On repeat: I Should Of by The Pretenders

Harriet, Kimberley, Transmen, and Me

After attending the lesbian moms' baby-naming for little Harriet (named after the fabulous dykey sleuth Harriet the spy), Kimberley and I spent most of yesterday walking around good old Jamaica Plain.

We were in search of the Harvest Food Coop, as I was convinced that they would have a giant housing bulletin board. We really could have used Harriet's help, since every time we asked for directions, we got lost. You know how this story turns out: after four hours, we finally found the coop and the bulletin board was measly with only one housing ad, which I had already read on craigslist. The only reason I thought they would have a bulletin is because every other coop in the country has one! Just that, nothing else. It was still great to check out JP, as this is where I plan to live with all the rest of the gays in the Boston area.

Anyway, this morning, I read the Sunday NY Times. The style section has a hilarious front-page article about how lesbians are threatened by transmen. Um, no. Not really been my experience. If anything, every dyke I know is desperate to get some transman into bed. Okay, not every single one, but sheesh. The NY Times is getting more and more laughable every week. They so desperately want to be on the frontlines of queer life, somehow thinking this is where the "hip" youngsters reside, but alas, their reporting is flat, boring, and totally outdated. Those silly reporters need to get it together.

probably a stupid dilemma

so after i came back from running today (i just like the way that sounds. i really did go running, but it's so ridiculous to start a sentence like that, i mean come on!) i saw that kimberley's local paper was opened to a (none other than) good vibrations ad.
as many of you know, miles and i used to work there and that's how we met. it was the best/worst of times. now, here's the question: should i apply to work at the one that is in brookline? (yes, there's a goodvibes here.)
i know you'll probably say no, gili, you hated it there. but i did meet a lot of people and they pay well. and i don't have a job. confession: i called them up this morning and left a message asking if they're hiring. they might not even hire me back since i was such a troublemaker and was practically fired near the end.
tell me what to do. (miles, i'm well-versed on your opinion, so you are not obligated to write a manifesto at this time.)

Going 80

There were lots of really emotional parts to my trip, but one surprise was passing Oberlin.

It was so weird, driving on 80, passing Elyria and Lorain and the sign for Antioch and Oberlin. I saw Black River and a sign for Cedar Point. I never thought I'd go back there, but I considered stopping for brunch at the Black River Cafe. Does it still exist? I got really nostalgic over our Sunday brunches: Matt, Vanya, Ellen, Riva, Jen, me, sometimes Danielle or others.

I cried a little thinking about the last five years (or is it six?) that I've been away from there. So much has changed and I've grown up in a lot of ways.

I thought about New Mexico, Key West, our trip to Massachusetts (Mountain Dew style), rugby tournaments, trips to Super K, my summer at Oberlin, so many things. I really got mushy about it.

Other things related to my trip (that made me feel something):
1. Passing Palmer, Mass where I used to attend camp.
2. Driving by Tara's hometown in Longmeadow.
3. Driving by Great Barrington (Catherine's home)
4. Realizing how connected my life has always been to Massachusetts (at least since I was old enough to attend camp here)
5. School bus in Wisconsin with a sign on the window that said "Jews Rock!!"
6. Dead bugs in my motel room
7. Great yummy Trader Joes food that kept me happy throughout the entire ride
8. My Sacred I-Pod (and listening to "Song For The Lonely" by Cher on repeat)
9. Cornelius' good behavior and love
10. Miles' great phone conversations and love
11. Dad's great navigational skills around Boston (via my cell phone)
12. Really horrible traffic in Illinois (Aimee, what's that about?) and the thousands of tolls that sucked up all my money, but the incredible friendliness of all the toll workers
13. Kimberley helping me unpack my stuffed vw
14. Lake Erie up by Buffalo (an old train passing by). this was by far the most scenic moment in my trip (though a lot of Massachusetts came in second place).

Anyway, it's surreal to be in Somerville. I got up this morning and walked up Mass Ave to find a cat scratcher. Here I am again.

I don't think I'm ready for another Big Cry yet, but I've been leaking tears since I left.

Wish Me Luck

Off to the East Coast. I'm planning on driving 8-hour days or so. I should arrive in Somerville Sunday night or Monday morning depending on how things work out.

Lots of love and feel free to call me along the way. I'll need someone to talk with besides Cornelius.

Pre-Annotation: Some Literary-ish Thoughts

I've finished "Lives of Girls and Women" by Munro and "Breakfast At Tiffany's" by Capote. Both are very different. I haven't written my annotations yet, but I need to get this off my chest:

1. I really don't feel very attached to Capote. Loved the movie, not excited about the writer. What gives? The characters are fine, nothing to jump up and down over. I want to like him but it's really a take it or leave it kind of situation.

2. Munro has a big brain. I'm not sure I understand what goes on in there and I don't know how she does it. But I really do think she's a living, breathing genius. Intimidation comes to mind. I don't think her book is perfect and I wouldn't have made a lot of the choices she made, but come on, the woman is a work of brilliance. I've got to absorb as much as possible just in case there's a chance some geniosity leaks off the page and into my smaller brain.

For those of you getting a head start: next I'm reading Lorrie Moore's "Birds of America" (everyone loves her, let's face it. I've read a short-story from this book, but I'm excited to read it in its entirety). And I'll be reading Tobias Wolff's "The Night in Question." Stay tuned.

Big Changes

Friday will be my last day living in Minneapolis. I'm moving to the east coast.

My job is over, my stuff mostly packed. It's weird to be leaving. Weird isn't really the right word. It's sad and surreal. I have moments when all of this rushes over me. I don't really want to go into the specifics on this blog. I just wanted to give the head's up.

I'm going to be driving alone across country, something I've never done before. I'm nervous and excited for the adventure. Well, I won't be completely alone because Cornelius will be with me. She usually sleeps in the car.

I don't know what else to say.

True Toe Story

This evening Miles and I were driving home with the windows down. I had my feet up on the dashboard like always.

A woman pulled up next to us at a red light in a blue Chevy minivan. She has curly dyed black hair and big sunglasses. I didn't even notice her until she called out to me:

"Look at those cute little toes! Does your mommy love them? I bet she does."

I said thanks (I think) and then the light turned green. I swear this happened. If Miles hadn't been there, I might not believe it. I'm not telling this story because I'm begging for toe compliments. (I know they're cute.)

I'm telling it because people love to talk to me. Strangers are always saying weird things to me. This is just the most current example.

p.s. mom, do you love my toes?

Part Two: Straight Girls Love To Put Makeup On Me

Here's two more pictures from my day at the Aveda Institute. Yup, this is what happens when I go there.

Song of the day: Break Up To Make Up (get it?) by The Stylistics

Drag Queen Gili

Riva wanted to see what I look like after a day at Aveda. Here's my drag queen eyes. That's all you're getting.
xoxo

Chocolate Covered Bagel

Been a while since my last food post.

I want a chocolate covered bagel. Some say this is just another couple words for a doughnut, but I disagree. I want a real live bagel covered in chocolate.

Maybe this can be a new product that I create and market. I really could be on to something.

A Steinsky Original.

p.s. I heart Alice Munro. Genius material.

I Can't Breathe...

Heat stroke is imminent.

Is there a kind of animal that can't sense temperature?
I want to be that animal.

Yesterday, for most of the day, the power was out all over our neighborhood. That meant no A.C., no fans, no nothing. The power would come on for four minutes, then off again, then back on, then off. Cars ran into each other at intersections. Babies were crying. Plus, I had to help some friends move. Even cold baths didn't help.

Miles ended up sleeping on the porch because it was cooler outside.

The electricity is back on but my spirit has dissipated.

Special Announcement For All Consumers

Good news:
Sony bravia has a new commercial: fun with paint
Bad news:
I don't think you can watch it online yet
Plus, I hope this plant didn't get hurt in the making of the commercial. Ohterwise, I'm going to be truly disappointed.

Going Batty

Last night there was another flying mammal in our apartment. I thought that little electronic plug thing was supposed to prevent rodents from wanting to be in our house. I was feeling so hopeful that it was just going to be that one time. But no.

Like last time, Cornelius started running around in circles. I sat up and woke Miles. And like last time, I put a sheet over my head, but instead of walking to the bathroom, I crumbled to the floor. I thought the flying mammal would run into me if I walked there, so I just sank down. Then Miles guided me (as I crawled) into the bathroom and I closed the door.

Miles used the old sheet trick, which eventually sent the animal out through our back porch.

Hats off to the bravery of Miles and Cornelius.

Let's hope this is the last time.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow?

I couldn't resist the ridiculous title.

Important question, please answer:
Should I cut all my hair off? See before and after.




Thanks.

Keeping The Fictional Dream Alive: Part Two

I was offered a new job working for a queer philanthropic foundation. They pay well and the hours are good. But, I don't really like working and I don't really like working for small nonprofits. On the othe hand, I've had just about enough of my current boss. Her instability is way more than I can handle.
Alternative solution:
Purchasing the Northern Michigan Artisan Bakery that's currently for sale. I saw it on craigslist. Check out these pictures. Plus the place comes with a three bedroom/two bath apartment. It's really beautiful up there (it's pretty close to Interlochen).




Small problems include but are not limited to:
1. lack of interest in owning a bakery
2. lack of knowledge on how to run a bakery
3. lack of desire to wake up early and bake
4. current schooling
5. fear of living in michigan again (especially a small town that may enjoy hunting and militia activities)
Benefits:
1. wouldn't have to go out to eat
2. could start steinsky bagels
3. i might smell like fresh dough most of the time

Take a look at these pictures. You tell me what to do and I'll do it.

Jesus Died For Somebody's Mail

But Not Mine.

I just got back from an early morning walk to the post office. While I was standing in line, waiting to mail my envelope, I realized that the post office was blasting Christian Pop Music.

Naturally, I started trembling, looking into the faces of other customers to see if they were also outraged. Nothing. People were tapping along, enjoying the music! For some reason, when it was my turn in line, I didn't say anything. I mean, is it legal for the post office to blast Christian music?

All I could do was bite down on my tongue, nodding and smiling.

Spaceman in Duluth

I'm in Duluth for the weekend, visiting Bubbie, Zaddie, Uncle Steve, Aunt Pat, Uncle Sam, and Mom and Dad.
It's a beautiful day here, the sun is shining, but I haven't actually gone outside since I've been working on my manuscript all morning. So the sky is blue and the sun is shining, but my view is of the hotel's back parking lot and the backyards of some Duluth residents.
My ITunes just played "Spaceman" by 4 Non Blondes. Some of you Obies will remember how much Jen loved this song. I love it too.
I like to think I have a special connection to the song since my drum teacher in San Francisco, Dawn Richardson, was in 4 Non Blondes. (She was also Prince's drummer and went on tour with him.) Here's a picture of my fabulous teacher and the lyrics for everyone to appreciate:

4 Non Blondes - Spaceman

Starry night bring me down
Till I realize the moon
It seems so distant yet I felt it pass right through
And I see what I see a new world is over me
So I'll reach up to the sky
And pretend that I'm a spaceman
In another place and time
I guess I'm looking for a brand new place
Is there a better life for me?
Subtle wind blow me gone
Let me rest upon your move
I trust I'll end up sleeping cradled in my doom
And I feel what I feel
I can't grasp what is not real
So I'll get myself real high
And imagine I'm a spaceman
In another place and time
I guess I'm looking for a brand new place
Is there a better life for me?
I remember in my mind
They say I'm daydreaming
Is it all that it seems
Or am I all the things I'm looking for? ?
And I see what I see a new world is over me
And I'll reach up to the sky
And imagine I'm a spaceman
In another place and time
I guess I'm looking for a brand new place
I remember living in a different life
Is there a better life for me?

P.S. Happy Birthday to my best friend, Riva! I love you and miss you!!!

Chicago Essay: A Literary Adventure

Chicago is excellent. We’re having so much fun. Let me tell you all about it.
As we got out of the airport terminal, we saw forty or so Teen Challenge kids heading towards their gate. Real live Teen Challengers!! That’s the thing where they promise not to have sex for like the rest of their lives or something. Then we saw a real live Keith Haring mural at the airport (kind of the opposite of Teen Challenge, you know?).
Right before we got to our hotel, I watched a skinny woman pick up a flattened, dead pigeon off the street and run with it across through a busy intersection, throwing the bird into the bushes right next to where we were standing. Then she ran back across the street as fast as a live pigeon. I swear. In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it.
At the hotel, we asked where to go for sushi, but on our way there, we walked right into Taste of Chicago. For over two hours, we stuffed ourselves with pizza, crab cakes, garlic-dipped plantain chips, pad thai, latkes, bbq chicken sandwich, and brownies. It was the best welcome ever.
Then we went to a park near downtown and watched children play in an outdoor fountain-type place where people’s faces were superimposed onto structures. It’s hard to explain, but the theme is: there’s really cool public art here. Plus, I love all the old buildings and architecture.
After that we came home and slept, bellies full and happy.
Today we got up early and went to Wicker Park. We ran into some Oberlin people, who remember me better than I remember them (no big surprise there). One girl is named Leah (Riv, remember her?) and she was in all of my classes. It was a weird flashback especially since she knew everything about me. She was nice enough and so was the other girl.
I am in love with Myopic Bookstore. It’s a lot like the place I work, but has fewer books than the Bookhouse. I want to live inside of it and read all the books. We also went to Quinby’s and checked out the comic/zine selection, though it’s a lot like Big Brain in Minneapolis and I like B.B. better since it’s less manly mannish.
Finally I need to mention the amazing Alliance Bakery. We didn’t get anything, but the cakes in the windows look amazing. That will definitely need to be tested before going back home.
I’m loving Chicago (despite the Obie-spotting).
It’s later in the evening. We’re determined to get the most out of this trip and so we visited Andersonville and Lincoln Park. They were both fun to visit but the fun really happened back at the hotel. Background: it seems that the Greek world unites in our hotel. Greeks are everywhere and they flow through the halls and out into the lobby. Seriously, I’ve never seen so many Greek people in one place. Anyway, when we got to our floor, there was a teenage Greek party near the elevator. When we turned the corner towards our room, two Greek teenagers were sitting on the floor, one girl crying and one boy listening.
These are the exact words that the Greek girl said (while crying): “I am so proud to be Catholic. I don’t drink and I am so proud of that. I am not sexual and I am so proud of that.”
Isn’t that amazing? It was too amazing to be true. I feel like we walked into a goldmine. I’m not going to be able to upload this for a while so I’ll probably keep adding to it. More to come…
It’s the end of another day in Chicago. I want to say how sad I am that I never got to read Aimee’s suggestions about what to do in Chicago, so we’ve been winging it. On the plus side, my parents are also in the city right now (staying somewhere else, we haven’t seen them at all since we got here) and when I called them tonight, they said they are taking Aimee’s suggestions. They’ve been to at least two restaurants recommended by Aimee. Next time we come to Chicago, I promise to use Aimee’s guide.
Anyway, today was really action-packed. We started our day having breakfast in Wicker Park. It was pretty good but our second trip to Myopic was horrible. The woman working had major attitude and when we left, I never wanted to go back. I will go back, but not when that mean woman is working.
I won’t go into all the details of the day, but here are the main points:
-We went to four bookstores today, one in Hyde Park, one in Wicker Park, one in Lincoln Square, and one in Andersonville.
-We caught the last twenty minutes of Alison Bechdel, talking about her new book in a women’s bookstore. (In my strong opinion, this book is a big disappointment and not nearly as good as her others, but I’m glad she’s having success and good reviews. She deserves it.) (See picture of me with A.B. in background.)
-We found a used copy of Tobias Wolff’s “The Night In Question” for five bucks at one of the Powells Stores.
-After browsing three different Powells locations and Myopic Bookstore, there are officially no used copies of “Breakfast At Tiffany’s” (the Vintage edition) and “The Collected Stories of Cheever” in Chicago.
This is becoming long because my lack of internet. Tomorrow morning, Miles and I are going to Alliance Bakery for breakfast. Then, my parents are meeting us and we’re trying out one of Aimee’s picks (according to my parents) for lunch. In the afternoon, the four of us are driving back to Minneapolis.
p.s. finally internet connection! we're at the heartland for lunch. my parents are on the way. this place is so cute! we're loving it and i'll write more later. thanks for all your help, aimee. at least my parents used your advice and next time we come, we promise to check our email first. hopefully we can see you when we come back.

Dreaming In Fiction

Chicago fast fact:
In September, 1910, pioneer airman Walter Brookins flew over the Loop and the lake several times in front of a crowd of twenty thousand. (See photo.)
Today, Miles and I will partake in this historical experience. We fly to Chicago in the afternoon.
We know nothing about Chicago, so suggestions for things to do are greatly appreciated.

Along with Richard Yates, I am reading the often pretentious, but also informative "The Art of Fiction" by the late John Gardner. I'd like to share my favorite quote from the book (unfortunately when he speaks about authors, he uses male prnouns, so just suck it up, as I have had to do.)

"He [the writer] writes by feel, intuitively, imagining the scene vividly and copying down its most significant details, keeping the fictional dream alive, sometimes writing in a thoughtless white heat of 'inspiration,' drawing on his unconscious, trusing his instincts, hoping that when he looks back at it later, in cool objectivity, the scene will work."

I don't believe in "objectivity", but I do believe in keeping the "fictional dream alive". What a beautiful description of the writing trance.

Music of the day: anything by Chicago (I admit that I own nothing by Chicago, but what else would be relevant?)

back to life, back to reality

I'm home in Minneapolis. Finished "Hula" which I recommend (I better, since it's supposed to be similar to how I write). I thought Lisa Shea did an amazing job describing scenes without hard-hitting emotional information. Maybe that doesn't make sense. I have no time to write since I'm going back to work today, but I'll explain more at a later date. I might just post my craft annotation once I've written it.

I'm reading "Collected Stories of Richard Yates." I have been in love with his writing since high school and it's so amazing that I get to dive right back in for this MFA. The picture I'm posting is a cover of one short story collection, "Eleven Kinds of Loneliness" that I really suggest you read. It's perfection.
In two days, Miles and I are going to Chicago to celebrate four years. So much is going on but I just wanted to write and say I'm alive and back home.
More details to come...

"Another day is over so a new day will begin" -Annie Lennox

I'm over the hill! My first residency is finished. Today is my last day in the greater boston area before returning home to Miles and Cornelius. Everyone kept saying the week went by so quickly but this felt like the longest week of my life.
Yesterday I went into Boston with J.D., a girl from my program. She's definitely my closest friend which is so bizarro since she's a polite, Christian, girl from the south, and she's a few years younger than me. But wherever I can get a friend, I'll take it. If I liked Boston, it would have been a cool field trip, but I don't so the field trip was uncool. Two best parts:
1. We went to Mike's on the Northend and I got the best tiramisu of my life
2. J.D. wasn't holding onto the rail on the green line and when the T lurched, she flew across to the other side and ended up on some woman's lap. It was incredible. I watched her flying and the next thing I knew, she was looking deep into the eyes of a stranger.

I feel like I should have some big concluding paragraph here about what I learned during my first residency and how I will apply it throughout the semester, but that's so terribly nerdy and let's face it, I am taking the day off.
Tonight my big sister and I are going to her friend, C's home in Lincoln for some movie watching and dinner. The rest of my day is completely open.
A big hello to Miles' new bloggy blog. (The link is to the right.) Let's face it, the man's a genius.

song I'm listening to: Brand New Day by Eurythmics
book I'm reading: Hula by Lisa Shea
short story I read this morning and liked a lot: Facing the Music by Larry Brown

Goat Toothin'

Several years ago, I coined the phrase goat toothin'. I used it in a sentence five times each day and got my friends to spread it around. I really wanted to start a new term. I defined goat toothin' (roughly) as the act of telling a lie (often related to buisness interactions with a higher-up, but not limited to these interactions).
Example:
Boss: Did you come in late yesterday? Someone mentioned that you haven't been showing up to work and you're letting projects slide. Is that true?
Worker: No, sir.
Boss: You need to quit your goat toothin' and come clean.
Worker: I'm sorry, sir.

Often goat toothin' is preceded by the phrase "quit your". Anyway, I would really appreciate it if you could revive this phrase and use it at least twice a day. It would mean a lot to me and the advancement of English.

Finally, along the same line, I've been thinking that I might want to aquire a goat. I think it might be hard to keep one in my apartment and I'd be afraid it might eat Cornelius, BUT goat milk soap and goat cheese are so luxurious and I'd love to have easy access. Getting these products at the store is just too expensive. Hence the need for my own personal goat. Maybe I'd name her toothin'.

Riva's Reading List (also titled, my mother will read along with me)

Because there's been a request for my list, here's what it looks like before it's chiseled down. I've read some of these things on my own, but I'm really looking forward to reading for school. I have to write craft annotations for the books I read, which are papers that discuss what the author is doing, how the author does it, and how it relates to my own writing. You can kind of get a sense of what my writing is like by reading this list, but then again maybe you can't.
Quesiton: Riva, are you really going to read along?

1. Lisa Shea Hula
2. Lorrie Moore Birds of America
3. A.M. Homes Safety of Objects
4. Mary Gaitskill Because They Wanted To
5. Antonya Nelson Female Trouble
6. Antonya Nelson Some Fun
7. Tobias Wolff The Night In Question
8. Tobias Wolff Old School
9. Alice Munro Lives of Girls and Women
10. Nathan Englander For the Relief of Unbearable Urges
11. Elizabeth Graver The Honey Thief
12. Karen Lee Boren Girls in Peril
13. Ian McEwan Atonement (Which Jess reads on "Gilmore Girls")
14. Katherine Ann Porter Pale Horse, Pale Rider
15. Singrid Nunez The Last Of Her Kind
16. Scott Snyder Voodoo Heart
17. Cheever Collected Stories
18. Cormac McCarthy Outer Dark
19. Cormac McCarthy Child of God
20. Judy Doenges Most Beautiful Girl In The World
21. Anne Carson Autobiography of Red
22. Paul Lisicky Lawnboy
23. Chekhov Stories
24. Richard Yates Collected Stories
25. Capote Breakfast at Tiffany's and Stories
26. John Gardner The Art of Fiction
27. Julia Checkoway Creating Fiction

I got an RSI writing this so you better appreciate it. love, me

Prince on The Brain

I was walking to school today and the Prince song, "7" came on my ipod. Question posed to anyone who loves Prince and/or has some good insight: Is this song about seven deadly sins? I just made that connection today and I tried to ask my classmates, who as far as I'm concerned are walking zombies since nobody seems to know and love Prince in my program. I even made an announcement before class that if anyone loved Prince to come and talk to me afterwards. Nothing! Okay, so tell me what you think, please. Pay special attention to the verse about the plague and river of blood.

7 by Prince

All 7 and we'll watch them fall
They stand in the way of love
And we will smoke them all
With an intellect and a savoir-faire
No one in the whole universe
Will ever compare

I am yours now and u are mine
And together we'll love through
All space and time, so don't cry
One day all 7 will die

All 7 and we'll watch them fall
They stand in the way of love
And we will smoke them all
With an intellect and a savoir-faire
No one in the whole universe
Will ever compare

I am yours now and u are mine
And together we'll love through
All space and time, so don't cry
One day all 7 will die

And I saw an angel come down unto me
In her hand she holds the very key
Words of compassion, words of peace
And in the distance an army's marching feet (1 2 3 4 - 1 2 3 4)
But behold, we will watch them fall

And we lay down on the sand of the sea
And before us animosity will stand and decree
That we speak not of love only blasphemy
And in the distance, 6 others will curse me
But that's alright (That's alright)
4 I will watch them fall (1 2 3 4 5 6 7)

All 7 and we'll watch them fall
They stand in the way of love
And we will smoke them all
With an intellect and a savoir-faire
No one in the whole universe
Will ever compare

I am yours now and u are mine
And together we'll love through
All space and time, so don't cry
One day all 7 will die

[(Just how old)]

And we will see a plague and a river of blood
And every evil soul will surely die in spite of
Their 7 tears, but do not fear
4 in the distance, 12 souls from now
U and me will still be here - we will still be here

There will be a new city with streets of gold
The young so educated they never grow old
And a, there will be no death 4 with every breath
The voice of many colors sings a song
That's so bold
Sing it while we watch them fall

All 7 and we'll watch them fall
They stand in the way of love
And we will smoke them all
With an intellect and a savoir-faire
No one in the whole universe
Will ever compare

I am yours now and u are mine
And together we'll love through
All space and time, so don't cry
One day all 7 will die

[(Just how old)]
[(Just how old)]
[(Just how old)]

whoa happy moodswing, here she comes

happiness is meeting with my mentor/professor (a nice jewish gay man) one on one.
i forgot that the reason why i'm doing low-residency is because i like being alone, or in my own grounded world. i don't get a lot from being surrounded by writers all the time. or even a lot of the time. i like knowing other people's processes but that doesn't mean we have anything in common besides writing.
i'm in a whole new good place right now. michael gave me a ton of support AND an amazing book list and feedback session. since tomorrow is the first time one of my manuscripts will be workshopped (one of two that will be workshopped before i leave), it's really good that i feel visible and real and appreciated and so many other good things.
it's so weird to go from falling furhter and further into isolation and disconnection and then to have one talk with a key player and get right back on the horse (yuck, i hate horses. let's say kayak) and keep going.
i am here for a reason. i am going to get a lot out of this.
and while all of that is happening i get to read and write and have a teacher who G-E-T-S me!!!! (i don't know why i just spelled out "gets". maybe it needed to sound like a cheer.)

song of the current moodswing:
"Ask" by The Smiths:

Shyness is nice and
Shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life
You'd like to

So, if there's something you'd like to try
If there's something you'd like to try
Ask me I wont say no, how could I?

Coyness is nice, and
Coyness can stop you
From saying all the things in
Life you'd like to

So, if there's something you'd like to try
If there's something you'd like to try
Ask me I wont say no, how could I?

Spending warm Summer days indoors
Writing frightening verse
To a BUCKTOOTH girl in Luxembourg

Ask me, ask me, ask me
Ask me, ask me, ask me

Because if it's not Love
Then it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb,
the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb
That will bring us together

Nature is a language - can't you read ?
Nature is a language - can't you read ?

So, ask me, ask me, ask me,
Ask me, ask me, ask me

Because if it's not Love
Then it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb,
the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb
That will bring us together

If it's not Love
Then it's the bomb
Then it's the bomb
That will bring us together

So, ask me, ask me, ask me,
Ask me, ask me, ask me

Isn't It Ironic, or Is It...

There is nothing worse than waking up with a sense of dread. This day can't be as bad as yesterday or for that matter, the day before, right?
I was just thinking how there's something so wrong with the irony that I can learn SO much about writing and about my creative voice and simultaneously feel like my honest self is not being seen or heard. Maybe that's not the real definition of irony. (After the Alanis Morissette controversy, I never like to refer to things as "ironic", running the risk that like the singer, I don't understand what that word really means.) Anyway, you get the point.
I have to go back there today and I just want to hide out at Kimberley's.
I wish I didn't have to make choices like:
-Should I be honest about who I am and make things weird or be dishonest about who I am and feel invisible?

The song "Desert Island" by The Magnetic Fields feels particularly applicable.

I'm sick of writing gloomy posts, which I think is a passive way of saying, I'm sick of feeling gloomy.
Lots of love to all of you.

Queer Mickey Mouse

Today I became the queer mickey mouse. I made the mistake of coming out and talking about me and Miles and trans stuff in my workshop and before I knew it, there were four ignorant people wanting to have their picture taken with me. Not really, but that's how it felt. I am hiding at home even though I'm supposed to be at a reading. It's nice that my advisor's a gay man, but apparently gay men are out and trans is the hottest dish. This whole things feels so lonely now.

more mixed feelings

even though aimee said not to make any decisions about my experience right now, it can't be helped. judgment is first in my mind.
today, i really missed interlochen. i never thought i would say that. poetry isn't the same here. i miss the magic. i miss the hushed class, the sound of each others' breath as we wait for Dr. Bozanic to inhale each letter, each sound, each word, then exhale emotion, passion, fire. i know it sounds cheesy, but my memory of those classes is of a spiritual experience. i guess it would be asking too much to get that again.
among other things, today we talked about jane kenyon's poem, "Evening at a Country Inn". We spent over an hour and a half on the short poem and if anything, i felt worse than i did before the conversation began. I believe Jane would have wanted so much more from us. I believe we let this poem down.
The rest of the day wasn't much better. Again, too tired to explain. I have three manuscripts to re-read before bed.
I hope tomorrow's better.

Happy Minneapolis Pride!

One More Thing!
Congratulations to Miles and the rest of the Gender Blur Gang for making wonderful big and beautiful puppets for this year's Minneapolis Pride. I wish I could see them in all their glory.
You're here, you're queer, you're fabulous!

whirlwind

school is good, bad, overstimulating, lots of things. i'm supposed to be reviewing 4 manuscripts for workshopping for tomorrow right now. i have to re-read for a class too. but i wanted to say hello and mention that things are a mixture and my emotions are changing all the time. overall, i'm glad to be here and i'm getting a lot out of the experience.
my advisor told me that my work reminds him of lisa shea's, so as soon as i can i'm going to read the book (pictured here). more to come.

oh, and the food is yummy. people keep asking me about that. i guess my standards aren't very high.
off to buckle down with some old fashioned manuscripts.

2.5 hours to go

I feel like I'm waiting for a job interview, all dressed up and nowhere to go. 2.5 hours until my first school event. And then I'm off and running.
In the meantime, I'm trying to entertain myself.
I was inspired today by all the amazing literary blogs out there and now I feel like I should write more about what I'm reading.
Right now I'm in the middle of Diane Ackerman's "History of the Senses", which I've wanted to read for a long time. I have to say, she can be pretty fruity and she's definitely the most feminine womanly woman writer I've read in a while. I go between really loving the information she provides (she goes through each of the five senses and gives a history and some literary information) and feeling repulsed by how often she talks about women's attraction to men, menstruation, and gross straight things that seem kind of gender essentialist to my oh so post-modern mind. Anyway, I don't think I would recommend it, but I'm going to finish it because as a writer, it's helping me understand how I write about each sense.
I've got to have some lunch before school.
Here's hoping I can hide my social awkwardness for the next ten days...

my free day, spent blogging

I have so much time on my hands that i thought i'd upload a few pictures of jessie cohen and her partner, jane's new baby, alex. and those who know them, look how old ruby is getting! mazel tov! i'm so happy for them.

so far so good

today i have seen:

1. the campus!! i'm going to school. i'm going to school. i'm so excited.
2. someone who went to oberlin with me (or did she go to interlochen? i don't know). we stared at each other, but no major acknowledgment.
3. my sister on the street. we had a lovely walk to her work and i had a great conversation with the recpetionist at her office about my tattoos.
4. my sister's friend, Lindsay was in Porter Square, so we had a nice chat.
5. 3 lesbians.
6. did i mention the campus?

quick hello

I'm at Kimberley's home in Somerville. She greeted me with two of my favorite things: pineapple slices and dunkin' donut holes (a boston staple). School starts in two days. i should get some rest. more tomorrow...

Season Finale Weekend

This weekend felt like the final episode of that television show where all the teenagers are just a little too angsty (is that possible?) and the extended cast keeps getting into fatal/life-changing events that leave you wiping away embarrassing tears as the credits roll to the sound of your favorite new song, probably a new band that’s looking for record sales by writing music for a bad television show. (Why does that band keep showing up everywhere?!)

Saturday was Miles’ and my four-year anniversary. It was mostly a wonderful day. We played Scrabble at a coffee shop, and I know I should refrain, but it needs to be noted that I won by over 100 points. I came up with such classics as “migrant” and “union” and got loads of points for, well, enough, Gili, you won, what else do you want?

I should mention that we’re officially postponing the anniversary until after I get back from school (I leave this Wednesday). Miles and I pulled out all the clothes that I am bringing on my trip and we organized what I would wear each day for each class. Yes, I’m that nervous. But I have to say I’m a lot less stressed now that I have a list of what to wear.

The weirdness set in during the evening. We drove to the northeast side of Minneapolis where our favorite nighttime restaurant is located. We parked and they said there was a 20-minute wait. We took a walk around the block and the hot summer day instantly turned into a major downpour. When we got back to Pop (the restaurant), we were soaked and cold. No big deal, the food is worth it.

Important fact: the tables at Pop are less than 7 inches apart.
Back to the story: During the meal, on my right side, these two blonde women were celebrating something with 4-year old blonde twin boys. I’m sure I don’t need to point out that they were both hyperactive and obsessed with Miles, desperately trying to get his attention and banging in to him as they stood up and sat back down and stood up again. The boys were sucking on some kind of green apple sugar soda (okay, I know I sound like an old lady, but four year old boys drinking what amount to sugar water is a bad equation).

We got through the meal and that’s when the really, really weird thing happened. During dessert, two sixty-year olds sat down to our left. I’m sorry that this is about to get crude, but apparently, life is crude. This was maybe their second or third date. The over-tanned bad-bleached haired woman, who let everyone know in what became a loud and fully shameless soundtrack for the rest of our meal, that she had led a life full of sexual repression. She wore a yellow sundress that screamed, look at my gross leather skin, and sandals. Not two minutes after they sat down, she stuck her barefoot into the man’s crotch. When he protested, she told him, he had a big stomach and could hide his pleasure. Yup, you read that right. She told him to sit back and enjoy himself. Miles and I tried to look away as she used her foot to, well, I hope you get the point. She spoke of her two grown children, her ex-husband, life on Prozac, her freedom and happiness. Meanwhile, she was doing what she was doing and it was disgusting. There are no tablecloths at Pop. It’s just disgusting. It was bad enough that we had to sit there while all of this happened, what was even worse was that the four-year old boys were captivated. They couldn’t take their eyes off the older couple. (See picture illustrated by Miles.)

Fast-forward to the next morning. Major mood shift ahead: I called my friend, Kasey to see if we’re going to hang out and Miles and I find out that his partner, and our friend, Henry is in New York visiting his mom. It turns out she was just diagnosed with advanced cancer and has been given a ten percent chance of living past six months. I don’t know what to say here. I just didn’t realize odds like that are handed out in real life. I thought that was something people predicted on television shows. So, Henry is home, with his mom. And I guess she will die soon. I write this because I don’t know how to process this information. How do people process things like this? What do you do with information like this? All I seem to be able to do is repeat it over and over, tell anyone I can, try and figure out what it means, and understand that it’s completely out of my comprehension. So, my heart is with Henry right now. And his family.

That’s it. That’s what happened this weekend. That’s more than enough.

I wish the credits would roll and then there would be a sneak preview of next season, which would start with the doctors reporting that there has been a huge mistake and Henry’s mom isn’t dying. Or to go along with my stupid metaphor, maybe she does leave the show, but then she stars in this amazing new movie and wins an academy award and then goes on to star in a theater production that is both historically monumental and timeless. That’s what I like about art, it outlasts us, it can be manipulated, and it’s immortal.

13 Worst Queer Movies

In honor of last night's viewing of "Querelle" I realized that what the world needs is a list of some of the worst queer movies ever made.
This list is not in any particular order and it should be noted that many many more movies belong in this category. These were the first ones I thought of, but feel free to remind me of others.
1. A Home At The End of The World: hours of pain as the script plumeted into what felt like the end of the world
2. Salmonberries: Oy Vey, KD Lang attempts acting (see picture).
3. The Event: the event was trying to stay awake for two hours and get my money's worth
4. Bar Girls: much better watched in rewind. a lot more humorous.
5. Total Eclipse: I believe this is the worst movie ever made. I ate some oreos during the viewing. I wish the oreos had totally eclipsed the screen.
6. Querelle: see below. this could be a great drinking or smoking movie, but sober, it just hurts all over.
7. Therese and Isabelle: all I remember is saying "oh, therese" and "oh, isabelle" over and over for weeks.
8. Swimming: the lead in this movie is the girl from "Six Feet Under". According to my parents she sucks in the theater and I could say the same for her movie career. Stick to HBO.
9. Better Than Chocolate: should be called worse than shingles.
10. Personal Best: if this is the personal best, I am so so deeply afraid to find out what the personal worst looks like.
11. Big Eden: yuck.
12. Cruising: this is kind of funny. i hate period pieces. sure, this was filmed in the 80's, but if you think of it as a historical glimpse, it can be quite entertaining.
13. Boys in The Band: get an editor, get a plot, get a life.

Querelle And Me

Tonight I had the joy of watching another horrifying queer movie to add to the long list I have seen in my lifetime. I was reading Entertainment Weekly a few weeks ago. They are usually very good at keeping me up to date on good movies that have come out on DVD.
I have a long list of holds from the library and I just add to it when I find something I may want to watch.
Tonight, that movie ended up being "Querelle".
I kind of feel bad making fun of the movie since the main character, Brad Davis died of AIDS in 1991 (supposedly Brad Davis was straight in real life, or was he bisexual? depends on the website you check.), but let it be known, nothing can stop me from saying how weird and ridiculous this movie is.
Here are some things you may want to know about my experience with this movie:
1. I didn't watch the whole thing. Miles and I could only stand it for 22 minutes, so we don't know if it miraculously gets better after the 22nd minute.
2. This movie had the false appearance of becoming a musical at any moment. The background was a lovely peach spray painted back drop, which made it look like there was a perpetual sunset. Querelle was supposed to be a homo sailor. He wore a white beanie with a red ball on top. I kept waiting for a musical number like, "I think I'm gay, what a beautiful day, let's roll in the hay, if that's okay." Or, "I've never done this before, don't call me a whore, my acting is a bore, while watching your brain may grow sore." Or, "My name is Querelle, my acting is hell, I guess you can tell."
3. Every shot has a penis in it. Not subtle.
4. This movie came out around the same time as "ET". I don't know how to explain how hillarious that is.
5. I am not sure what Jean Genet was smoking when he made this film, but Entertainment Weekly must have gotten ahold of the stuff when they recommended watching it.

All I Want For Hannukah

I know it's a little early to be making Hannukah lists, but I am really really wanting one thing this year. What I want is a bag for my laptop with a pixelated picture of Cornelius sewn on to the front. Okay, maybe that's not all I want, but it's definitely first on my list.
Back to school work...

Lollygagging No More

hahahahaha! hilarity is me not realizing that I have two million forty six thousand eight hundred and forty two things to read before school in two and a half weeks.
I'm such a freshman.
so I'm hitting the books. as soon as I finish this blog post, it's off to some hardcore reading. i was just hanging around thinking to myself how easy this mfa thing is. how could it really take up 30 hours of my week? then it occured to me that i may have assignments to do for my first residency that i haven't even looked at. life is so silly.

music i'm listening to: are you kidding, i have no time to listen to music.
books i'm reading: easier to make a list of books i'm not reading (lucky for me, i read a lot of the books at interlochen, so i can just skim them for a refresher. although i was at interlochen 10 years ago, so i might need more than a refresher.)

read on reader.

Today I Almost Killed A Man

My friend, Adrian and I have been biking to work together. We live across the park from each other and he’s a really nice person to ride bikes with…

Until I almost killed him.

On our way to work this morning, he was telling me to turn and I was going forward and when I realized I was supposed to turn, I smashed my bike into his. He flew, I mean flew, off his bike and rolled onto his back.

He stood up and immediately declared, “I’m okay.” It was horrifying. He was indeed okay, but holy crap. Thank G-D for helmets.

His arm was sore and scraped but apparently nothing else hurt because he was protected by his backpack. It is one of the worst things in the world to think you could cause physical injury to another person, especially a nice person.

My front tire was totaled and we walked the rest of the way to the Book House. He says he still wants to bike with me, but who knows how he’ll feel by Monday. I kept trying to give him an out, but he’s not angry or anything. This was not how I wanted to start my day.

It brought back horrors of my experience as a child when I was chasing a soccer ball and accidentally knocked over a grandma of a friend of mine. Then she had a broken hip and had to use a walker for the rest of her life. Basically, I shortened her life-span dramatically. True story. Good job, Gili.

Song of the day: Killer Queen by Queen.

New Generation of American Gothic

Upon request, a ham like myself cannot turn down a photo-op. Here is a quartet of pictures from our new home. Our house is the one all the way at the top. We didn't have a pitchfork for the American Gothic photo. So sorry.
Also, the photo of Miles is taken at Powderhorn Park, which is directly across from our house.
More photos to come soon.

Part Two of American Gothic Revisited

I got a little into the nature shots while on the photo rampage. Here's a shot of me in the frontroom, me on the porch, the view from our front window, and the ducklings we saw in the lake at Powderhorn. Now, I'm finished with my photo project.

Up Stream And Loving It

I feel like a little salmon swimming upstream to spawn. And today I think I made it. Or at least I made it to a nice resting point on my journey upwards.

Everything is feeling so good today. The hot hot summer is a little cooler today.

(Inspired by Ellen) Here are 10 happy things in my life:

1. I went for my morning swim, which I haven't done since last week because of business.
2. I reconnected with two west coast friends yesterday that I have been out of touch with. One of them is Riva and I know we haven't been out of touch, but it's been A WEEK since we talked and that's just not right.
3. I bought a bicycle today. I already have one but I don't like it. Tomorrow I start riding my bike to work with my coworker, Adrian. He lives across the park from me and I just know he's going to be a great bike-riding buddy. The bike I just bought is white, which is something new to me, but I think I'm really going to love her. Now, I need a good name for her.
4. I listened to Prince. Not much else I need to say about that.
5. My manuscript is coming along (although I'm supposed to be spending two hours on it and I haven't started yet).
6. The librarian was nice to me and she knows me. She said I get more holds than most people and I felt proud to be such a good citizen.
7. I had a breakfast quesidilla this morning. Frenchmeadow Bakery is the place to go. Plus, the tortillas are a great source of fiber.
8. I've been coloring in my anatomy coloring book, which the owner of the bookhouse gave me for free since some of the pages are already used. It helps me get in the creative mood to start writing.
9. No more flying mammals.
10. I smell like wood from the sauna at the Y.

And one more for good luck:
11. I had my favorite coffee from French Meadow this morning. It's really sustaining me. They do it up right.

Two Things: 1. Flying Mammals 2. Matt M's Mix

At three in the morning, Cornelius started running around in circles. That's when we knew there was a flying mammal trapped in our new home. (If you don't know what a flying mammal is, it rhymes with Pat.) Miles escorted me to the bathroom where I locked myself in while he shuffled the flying mammal out the back door/patio area.

We have this little white box that you plug into the wall. Apparently rodents don't like the vibrations it puts off and it sends them running from the building. It really works.
I think that officially ends our major problems with the apartment. From here on out, I'm hoping for an easy living experience.

Secondly, the CD player in my car has been busted forever so Miles and I finally broke down and bought a tape player. Right now, an old mix tape from Matt Morong is on repeat. We both like it a lot. It's good singing along music.
Highlights include:
Angel From Montgomery
I'm Coming Out
Tupelo Honey
The Swimming Song
The Weight
Second That Emotion

So big thanks to Matt.

Almost Famous Parents

I am freaking out because I just read my parents' blog and they were chatting with Mark Ruffalo this past week. (RIVA, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!?)

For more information on how my parents are almost famous, check out their blog: http://betweenshows.blogspot.com/

I Want To Know, Have You Ever Seen The Rain?

After a hot and humid day of cleaning and clearing Evil Karl's house, we officially finished moving into our new home, which we have named Bruce LaBruce, though I can't remember why.

Last night, in exhaustion and dehydration, we drove to the Longfellow Grill (on the Mississippi River) for dinner. While we were there, an amazing summer storm struck down. There was something so comforting and snuggly about being in a room full of people while all around us there was lightning and thunder. I can't explain why, but it just felt good.

Our first night in the new house was not great. We don't have any curtains yet, so there's lots of sunlight in my room and with all the windows open, it's pretty noisy (compared to our suburban life four blocks away). Cornelius was chatting for a lot of the night. She's still trying to figure out where we are.

Still, I like being in Bruce LaBruce and I think this was a really really good move.

Sorry to those I've neglected to call this week. It's been super busy, but things are going to get back into a groove soon.
Today, I strongly suggest listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival.

Still Shaking

Karl, the landlord that I can't stand (from the place we are moving out of) just wrote an email to me about how frustrated he is with us.
I wrote him a long email back about what a horrible landlord he's been and how I think he is awful at being in a position of power.
My hands are still shaking. I can't wait to get out of this house. I am going to miss it, but I'm not going to miss him.
We are leaving tonight at midnight. I really didn't want things to end like this. I wish we could have ended on a fake-friendly note, but it's too late.
I made the mistake of emailing him yesterday and saying it sounded like he was frustrated. That was a can of worms I really wish I had left sealed.

raisin industry blues

I miss the California Raisins. Since I didn't watch much television as a child, they were more peripheral than present, but still, there's something comforting about raisins wearing sunglasses and playing jazz. Especially their incredible version of "I heard if through the grape vine". That was a great marketing campaign. Also, I think there must have been some sort of talent show at some camp I went to, maybe the JCC, where youngsters dressed in trashbags with sunglasses and pretended to be the California raisins.

Which brings me to my next point: I read this amazing children's book at work at one of the bookstores. It's called Raisin and Grape. It's the story of a grape and his grandfather, the raisin. And if I remember right the grape's grandmother is a prune. Truly worth a read.

I feel like right now I'm in the middle of everything. Here's a list:
1. mid-move. Mostly everything we own is at our new place but we're still living at the old place until Thursday.
2. mid-story. I'm really into the piece I'm working on. (I called it a "piece" because that's what writers do to prove that they are truly writers.)
3. mid-hiring. the bookhouse is hiring a new person. we found someone but she still doesn't know and she still needs to be trained.
4. mid-life. okay, not really. just wanted to throw a curve ball.
5. mid-schooling. again, not really. i'm really in the pre-schooling stage or the prep for schoolling stage, but i wanted the list to be longer.

It's getting hotter everyday here is sunny Minnesota. Cornelius is spending most of her time in a self-induced coma.

To go along with the i heard it through the grape vine theme, the song of the day is marvin gaye's "aint that peculiar". What a sad, true story of falling in love and being taken for a ride. And a great tune to kick off the summer. Let's hear it for long hours of sunshine.
Don't forget to eat your raisins!

Food, Glorious Food

As Aimme pointed out in the comments of one of my blog postings, I am writing about food a lot lately. Maybe it's because life is so busy and chaotic and food tends to be one thing I don't miss an opportunity to have. Yes, I think that's it.

So here's another food post.

Last night I went to Matt's Bar for the first time. I was avoiding Matt's even though it's only two blocks from my house because:
1. I thought it was a bar and I have a fear of bars, especially straight people bars.
2. In the winter, I saw a car skid and hit a pole right outside Matt's and I thought it was a sign.
3. I didn't think I was in need of greasy food.

I don't know what I was thinking. All of my assumptions were debunked hence making an ass out of you and me. (I don't know why that makes an ass out of you, but whatever.)

Matt's is so delicious. For $4.50 you get a juicy lucy which is a hamburger cooked with the cheese inside of it! Someone's a genius and I'm going to take a wild guess and say it's Matt. I had one juicy lucy, half a basket of fires, and a root beer.

The problem with this perfect picture is two-fold.
1. I drank SO much coffee yesterday and I'm trying to cut back that by the time I got to Matt's, I was dehydrated, too hot from the summer weather, and starving.
2. I had to get back home in less than an hour because I had to see the season finale of America's Next Top Model (which was heavenly, by the way, since Danielle is a goddess). So I ate at top speed and after we shovelled all our food into our mouths, we had to speed-walk back home.

So here's what I'm saying. Matt's is a really really good place. I am ignorant and need to be open to the fact that just because a place is called a bar doesn't mean it actually is. This has been a beautiful lesson in humility.

And to top it off, we're moving even closer to Matt's. Well, kind of. Maybe it's equadistant. No matter, I'm definitely going back.

2 Buck Chuck and Me

Today is a really good day. I am thrilled to announce:

TRADER JOE'S HAS ARRIVED!!!!

According to sources in the know, there is now a Trader Joe's in St. Louis Park, which is a suburb of Minneapolis.

Life is soooo good.

Steinsky's Bagels

Miles and I have come up with a new business venture. Instead of all this nonsense schooling we're embarking on, I'm thinking I'll have better luck and more fun opening up a bagel stand at the Minneapolis Farmers' Market. We can make all the bagels on site and sell them to eat as you walk around or you can choose to buy a dozen to take home.

DO NOT STEAL THIS BRILLIANT IDEA!!!

This could happen. I just need a food license and I need to learn how to make bagels. Simple. Plus, I'm not sure if this is the kind of thing that can be done without a large oven.

Here's some of the key points:

1. Minnesotans love Jews. Sure, they don't know any and many may hae never even heard of bagels, but they really seem to like the idea of Jewish people and this could be our golden ticket.

2. We've got a major corner on the market, as they say. There are no bagels that are currently being sold at the farmers' market. Plus the only good bagels in Minnesota are in Saint Paul and this would be a Minneapolis business.

3. When people find out we're two Jews making bagels, we'll be famous. The New York Times Styles Section will want to do a spread (pun intended) on us to talk about the hip Jews in the midwest. Or better, the Travel Section will write about us as a must-see when visiting the midwest.

4. Here's how Miles came up with the business name. His ancestors shortened his last name from Ottenstein to Ott and my ancestors shortened my last name from Warsettsky to Warsett. Hence reclaiming the last names Stein + Sky = Steinsky.

5. You'll get to tell all your friends that you know two quirky people in the midwest who make bagels for a living.

Good times. Great oldies.

This morning we went on a march for NAMI (National Alliance for the Mentally Ill). There were over a thousand people there. It was nice except I had to pee the whole time and since I refuse to use a porta-potty, I had to hold it for an hour and a half. At the end of the walk we got nice bracelets (for free) that say NAMI Walks Boston 2006.

Kimberley's friend, Eliana Sugarman, who she's known since she was eight years old is in town to celebrate Kimberley's birthday. Right now she's napping.

Tonight is Kimberley's birthday party and dinner. I'm excited to meet all her friends and hang out.

I am convinced my right foot is broken from all the walking I've done in the past two days. (Yesterday I walked from Porter Square to MIT and back.) My dad says it's not broken but I may sue him for malpractice if it doesn't feel better soon.

Yesterday during the day I listened to over three hours of acapella put on by the many talented youth of the Harvard undergraduate class. I didn't like acapella in college and now I know I still don't but at least I had free entertainment for three hours. It's been really hot and gorgeous outside so I've been tanning as much as possible.

broken

is my blog broken? it's not working in boston and miles reported that he can't read it in minneapolis. this is an experiment.

New England Pride

I took a long walk this morning in the hot Boston sun. I walked through Somerville and Cambridge and I saw a fair share of East Coast college bumper stickers on the back of Volvo station wagons.

What is up with people and thier college stickers? Is there some kind of collective pride here where everyone feels warm inside when they see a Harvard sticker on someone else's car? Or a Tufts sticker? Do other drivers grin and smile and wave? What am I missing?

Who is the audience? Who cares? I'm not sure what kind of feeling I'm supposed to get when I see someone else's car plastered with four or five ivy league logos on the back. Can you help me out with this one?

I Admit I Have A Lot of Time On My Hands Right Now

I know I just posted but I found out Louis Rukeyser, died Tuesday. He was 73.

You may not be familiar with him. Growing up, we never watched television at my house. But my dad made an exception for his favorite business report given by Louis. I always called him "George Washington" since they look like twins.

Rest In Peace, Louis.

First Stop: Trader Joes

As soon as I got in the car, here in Boston, we sped off to Trader Joes. ("Sped off" is kind of an exaggeration since Boston traffic never moves, but whatever.)

I loaded up on groceries since for some blasphemous reason there's no T.J.s in the Twin Cities. (They plan to have one built by 2009, I think.)

I have bad news for Miles: they are out of bbq chicken pizza. I'm hoping they'll have more before I leave for home, but they couldn't tell me for sure.

Anyway, I got some old faves: black-pepper cashews and three bars of oatmeal soap. Best part: it's all paid for by the parents. I love free money.

Now I'm hanging out at Kimberley's apartment which is quite lovely while the three of them go see some boring author reading. Then we're all off to dinner.

So far, no horrifying Boston moments to report.

Boston Frightens Me

Even though I'm scared of Boston because it's such an annoying city, I'm going there tomorrow for Kimberley's 30th Birthday.
I can't believe she's turning thirty.