31 December 2006
File: Home, Holidays
17 December 2006
File: Holidays
12 December 2006
File: Holiday Zombie Attack Gingerbread House
We bought the gingerbread making kit from Costco and started decorating last night. Matt's twisted mind came up with the Zombie-Attack Gingerbread House. I'm pretty proud of how it looks. (I should say looked. Matt already ate part of it.)
The front.
The poor gingerbread people attempted to signal for back-up. It never came.
The other side. It reads "No Z." Perhaps they thought they'd let the zombies know they weren't wanted. Unfortunately, zombies cannot read.
The back. Note that windows and doors are boarded up, in a futile attempt to prevent the zombies.
Close-up of fallen gingerbread men.
Oh, the horror. Mmm...brains.
The front.
The poor gingerbread people attempted to signal for back-up. It never came.
The other side. It reads "No Z." Perhaps they thought they'd let the zombies know they weren't wanted. Unfortunately, zombies cannot read.
The back. Note that windows and doors are boarded up, in a futile attempt to prevent the zombies.
Close-up of fallen gingerbread men.
Oh, the horror. Mmm...brains.
11 December 2006
File: Holidays
Both were delicious.
We also made a zombie attack gingerbread house. I'll post pictures of that one shortly.
09 December 2006
File: Oops!
I giftwrapped the template (about the only thing I'm giftwrapping around here) to reflect a certain December mood. Hooray for green, red, blue, and yellow.
So, this has been the week of parking woes. Last Saturday eve, Matt's mom came into town to help us with the new home. We decided to meet Matt's Aunt Pat for dinner near her condo in Evanston. It had been snowing pretty hard the day before -- some of my colleagues couldn't even get into work. So, we felt pretty lucky when we found a dug-out on-street parking space. We parked the car and continued down the street for dinner.
After eating a pretty good Asian feast, we were walking back down the street. My dad called to see how things were going, and I was chatting with him as we walked. Let me put you in the moment (and change tenses mid-paragraph): At the front of street, we see a bunch of tow trucks. Oh, I think to myself, what a shame. Some idiot parked in the wrong place. Then, I look down the street. There are tow trucks and police cars lining the street.
Alert to the idea that something may be wrong, I look beside me to see a blur of color racing past. A second or two later, I realize that blur of color was my spouse, yelling expletives. I put tow and tow together* and get that they are about to tow our car. Yikes. I hang up on my dad, and start running down the street behind Matt. (Note: this is an icy street.)
By the time I make it to the center of the flashing orange lights, Pip, our beloved Scion XA, is up on the towing doohick. Matt has successful convinced the traffic official to release the car. The guy was pretty nice about it, but ticketed us anyway, as a warning not to park on the street when the city declares a snow emergency. (A snow what?)
Cut to Wednesday evening. I'm due at the HowStuffWorks Christmas party at a downtown bowling alley called 10Pin. Deciding that I'm way too smart to park in the $30 garage below the House of Blues, I find a meter on Kinzie. I'm a little weirded out because it does say "No Parking - Tow Zone," but I figure, there's a meter. I had once gotten a ticket when I parked on Halsted for a similar offense. I contested the ticket and won because the meter and the sign were conflicting. I figured that surely the city had learned its lesson. Besides, I thought, there are guys valeting cars to this very section. A valet wouldn't put a car in a tow area, right?
I never got to find out. The abridged version: Matt attempts to find the car. He is unsuccessful. He arrives at the party to find out where I parked it. I give him directions. He arrives forty minutes later, very cold and pretty hot under the collar. He couldn't find the car. My group had effectively closed down the party and were ready to leave.
I had previously offered to take Alex, my co-worker, home. Ken, my boss, offers to walk us to the car. (A man with experience, he must have known that the car would be nowhere in sight.) The four of us leave and go to where I parked the car. In place of Pip is a silver VW Rabbit, as if Pip had taken the blue pill from Alice in Wonderland and shrunk.
--Um, buddy, I say. I think they towed the car.
--Are you sure you parked it here?
--Oh yeah.
We continued walking to Ken's house, and he was nice enough to drive all three of us home, despite living two blocks away from the fiesta. I expected Matt to more angry than he was. He really should have chewed me out, but didn't, really. He wasn't upset (that much) that I did a stupid and got the car towed. It was walking around in the cold that got him.
Oops. I have learned my lesson on that one. Sorry, honey.
I was able to retrieve the car the next day, again another nice thing that my wonderful boss did for me, as he insisted on driving me to what we found was the underbelly of the city. A lot of seedy workings from the city that works. My favorite episode: the website said that it would cost $100 to retrieve my car. When I called to make sure that my car was actually at the impound lot they said it would be at, the guy told me that I needed to bring $170. I replied that the website said it would be less. His pithy retort: "Your car isn't in a website."
Oh, how I love this city. And will be more protective about where I place Pip. In downtown Chicago, a $30 valeted parking garage is a steal.
*deliberate bad pun
So, this has been the week of parking woes. Last Saturday eve, Matt's mom came into town to help us with the new home. We decided to meet Matt's Aunt Pat for dinner near her condo in Evanston. It had been snowing pretty hard the day before -- some of my colleagues couldn't even get into work. So, we felt pretty lucky when we found a dug-out on-street parking space. We parked the car and continued down the street for dinner.
After eating a pretty good Asian feast, we were walking back down the street. My dad called to see how things were going, and I was chatting with him as we walked. Let me put you in the moment (and change tenses mid-paragraph): At the front of street, we see a bunch of tow trucks. Oh, I think to myself, what a shame. Some idiot parked in the wrong place. Then, I look down the street. There are tow trucks and police cars lining the street.
Alert to the idea that something may be wrong, I look beside me to see a blur of color racing past. A second or two later, I realize that blur of color was my spouse, yelling expletives. I put tow and tow together* and get that they are about to tow our car. Yikes. I hang up on my dad, and start running down the street behind Matt. (Note: this is an icy street.)
By the time I make it to the center of the flashing orange lights, Pip, our beloved Scion XA, is up on the towing doohick. Matt has successful convinced the traffic official to release the car. The guy was pretty nice about it, but ticketed us anyway, as a warning not to park on the street when the city declares a snow emergency. (A snow what?)
Cut to Wednesday evening. I'm due at the HowStuffWorks Christmas party at a downtown bowling alley called 10Pin. Deciding that I'm way too smart to park in the $30 garage below the House of Blues, I find a meter on Kinzie. I'm a little weirded out because it does say "No Parking - Tow Zone," but I figure, there's a meter. I had once gotten a ticket when I parked on Halsted for a similar offense. I contested the ticket and won because the meter and the sign were conflicting. I figured that surely the city had learned its lesson. Besides, I thought, there are guys valeting cars to this very section. A valet wouldn't put a car in a tow area, right?
I never got to find out. The abridged version: Matt attempts to find the car. He is unsuccessful. He arrives at the party to find out where I parked it. I give him directions. He arrives forty minutes later, very cold and pretty hot under the collar. He couldn't find the car. My group had effectively closed down the party and were ready to leave.
I had previously offered to take Alex, my co-worker, home. Ken, my boss, offers to walk us to the car. (A man with experience, he must have known that the car would be nowhere in sight.) The four of us leave and go to where I parked the car. In place of Pip is a silver VW Rabbit, as if Pip had taken the blue pill from Alice in Wonderland and shrunk.
--Um, buddy, I say. I think they towed the car.
--Are you sure you parked it here?
--Oh yeah.
We continued walking to Ken's house, and he was nice enough to drive all three of us home, despite living two blocks away from the fiesta. I expected Matt to more angry than he was. He really should have chewed me out, but didn't, really. He wasn't upset (that much) that I did a stupid and got the car towed. It was walking around in the cold that got him.
Oops. I have learned my lesson on that one. Sorry, honey.
I was able to retrieve the car the next day, again another nice thing that my wonderful boss did for me, as he insisted on driving me to what we found was the underbelly of the city. A lot of seedy workings from the city that works. My favorite episode: the website said that it would cost $100 to retrieve my car. When I called to make sure that my car was actually at the impound lot they said it would be at, the guy told me that I needed to bring $170. I replied that the website said it would be less. His pithy retort: "Your car isn't in a website."
Oh, how I love this city. And will be more protective about where I place Pip. In downtown Chicago, a $30 valeted parking garage is a steal.
*deliberate bad pun
08 December 2006
File: Home
Progress. Here I am in our bathroom. The wall above me is the last bastion of white. Matt's mom and I started painting this place lavendar last weekend. I finished it tonight. Hooray!
File: Holidays
I'm sitting in our new condo, waiting for food to arrive, as I contemplate the Christmas tree. I am a happy being.
I love going to Matt's folks in Ohio for Christmas. There's something magical about having Christmas morning at Nanny and Papa's. Nanny has so much joy for the day. It's great fun to have the whole gang troop over, gather in a large circle in the basement, and let the present-opening begin. But I know when I'm in Ohio, I'm not in Florida with my parents. There's over a dozen of us that gathers in Columbus. My folks just have us. (Okay, that's not entirely true, as my aunt and cousins come over too. My aunt's parents, who have been like grandparents to me, attend. Often, my friend Travis joins us for the festivities as well.)
I'm not saying what I want to say well. What I'm trying to say is that the holidays are now happy-sad, to use a Cabbage Patch Kids term. I wish I could split myself in two, three, or four (that's really what's needed: one of me with my folks, one with Matt's mom's folks, one with Matt's dad's folks, and one of me soaking in the Jacuzzi tub).
I am especially contemplative because we don't have any real traditions and I'd like to create them. Other than the putting the spinning dreidel on the roof (I'll try and post video as Hanukkah approaches), and the nine-foot menorah on the lawn (the one pictured below was the first incarnation and is only a six-footer), we mostly spent the holidays lighting the menorah and opening presents each night.
Christmas was spent celebrating my birthday, normally with my mom serving a baked ziti. It was great. Now, it's spent in a whole different way. My birthday, which is always remembered by Matt, is often an afterthought by the rest of the gang who are busy and stressed and just trying to make it through Christmas. (I can't really blame them, but I always miss a cake with my name on it and actual birthday paper. I realize it's awkward timing, a tradition I began at birth and continue to this day, but birthdays do get a little lonely for me.)
Hanukkah, too, isn't really mentioned, (not for any real reason, I think) but when I'm away and I don't light the menorah, I feel sad and like I'm not being true to my traditions. (Although last year, at Matt's dad's celebration, we lit the menorah. It was sort of awkward because we did it during the day, but also really cool that he thought of it.) The first few nights of Hanukkah fall while we're in Cleveland next weekend, celebrating an early Christmas. Maybe we can talk to Matt's dad about lighting the menorah again. That would help, I think.
It's ironic, because here I am blogging about the circumstances around an interfaith holiday, but the first thing I thought to do when it turned December was put the tree up. Our tree is beautiful, even though we phoned it in this year, and didn't put on all of the ornaments. It does have a string of Hanukkah lights as garland. I think our electric menorah finally gave up last year (it had been lit for as long as I can remember), so we'll have to get another one this year and place it next to the tree. I love how the menorah and the Christmas tree look together. It reminds me how special and lucky we are to have each other -- and each other's traditions.
I was reading URJ's magazine Reform Judaism, and they talked about how interfaith couples "do" the holidays. One couple asked their family to wrap their stuff in Hanukkah paper. Another family still did the big Christmas shindig, but also hosted a Hanukkah party for the family with potato latkes, dreidels, and much singing. We don't have anything like that yet.
I'm really looking forward to making our own traditions. We have one: the special ornament tradition. Every year since we started dating, we give each other an ornament. It's the last ornament we put on the tree. I can't wait until we spend more time together and create additional traditions that we can pass onto the next generation. (Is that little feet I hear?) And, maybe, one year, we'll just stay home for the holidays. My fourth self really loves the idea of that jacuzzi.
I love going to Matt's folks in Ohio for Christmas. There's something magical about having Christmas morning at Nanny and Papa's. Nanny has so much joy for the day. It's great fun to have the whole gang troop over, gather in a large circle in the basement, and let the present-opening begin. But I know when I'm in Ohio, I'm not in Florida with my parents. There's over a dozen of us that gathers in Columbus. My folks just have us. (Okay, that's not entirely true, as my aunt and cousins come over too. My aunt's parents, who have been like grandparents to me, attend. Often, my friend Travis joins us for the festivities as well.)
I'm not saying what I want to say well. What I'm trying to say is that the holidays are now happy-sad, to use a Cabbage Patch Kids term. I wish I could split myself in two, three, or four (that's really what's needed: one of me with my folks, one with Matt's mom's folks, one with Matt's dad's folks, and one of me soaking in the Jacuzzi tub).
I am especially contemplative because we don't have any real traditions and I'd like to create them. Other than the putting the spinning dreidel on the roof (I'll try and post video as Hanukkah approaches), and the nine-foot menorah on the lawn (the one pictured below was the first incarnation and is only a six-footer), we mostly spent the holidays lighting the menorah and opening presents each night.
Christmas was spent celebrating my birthday, normally with my mom serving a baked ziti. It was great. Now, it's spent in a whole different way. My birthday, which is always remembered by Matt, is often an afterthought by the rest of the gang who are busy and stressed and just trying to make it through Christmas. (I can't really blame them, but I always miss a cake with my name on it and actual birthday paper. I realize it's awkward timing, a tradition I began at birth and continue to this day, but birthdays do get a little lonely for me.)
Hanukkah, too, isn't really mentioned, (not for any real reason, I think) but when I'm away and I don't light the menorah, I feel sad and like I'm not being true to my traditions. (Although last year, at Matt's dad's celebration, we lit the menorah. It was sort of awkward because we did it during the day, but also really cool that he thought of it.) The first few nights of Hanukkah fall while we're in Cleveland next weekend, celebrating an early Christmas. Maybe we can talk to Matt's dad about lighting the menorah again. That would help, I think.
It's ironic, because here I am blogging about the circumstances around an interfaith holiday, but the first thing I thought to do when it turned December was put the tree up. Our tree is beautiful, even though we phoned it in this year, and didn't put on all of the ornaments. It does have a string of Hanukkah lights as garland. I think our electric menorah finally gave up last year (it had been lit for as long as I can remember), so we'll have to get another one this year and place it next to the tree. I love how the menorah and the Christmas tree look together. It reminds me how special and lucky we are to have each other -- and each other's traditions.
I was reading URJ's magazine Reform Judaism, and they talked about how interfaith couples "do" the holidays. One couple asked their family to wrap their stuff in Hanukkah paper. Another family still did the big Christmas shindig, but also hosted a Hanukkah party for the family with potato latkes, dreidels, and much singing. We don't have anything like that yet.
I'm really looking forward to making our own traditions. We have one: the special ornament tradition. Every year since we started dating, we give each other an ornament. It's the last ornament we put on the tree. I can't wait until we spend more time together and create additional traditions that we can pass onto the next generation. (Is that little feet I hear?) And, maybe, one year, we'll just stay home for the holidays. My fourth self really loves the idea of that jacuzzi.
30 November 2006
File: Home
It is official. Here we are signing the deed. We are homeowners, yippee! Matt has a full account over on Larsenopolis.
File: Home
So, today's the day. As you can tell by the time, I'm not sleeping. I've been up since 3. Hopefully, I won't crash too hard as we're signing papers.
I'm giddy and nervous about being a homeowner. As usual, we've packed an ambitious day: post office, bank if needed, closing, moving estimate, IKEA, prime and paint, celebrate.
Shoot up a little prayer for us that everyone goes without a hitch. Go time is in less than six hours.
I'm giddy and nervous about being a homeowner. As usual, we've packed an ambitious day: post office, bank if needed, closing, moving estimate, IKEA, prime and paint, celebrate.
Shoot up a little prayer for us that everyone goes without a hitch. Go time is in less than six hours.
27 November 2006
File: Holidays
On the Friday before Thanksgiving, I was driving to meet up with friends for a night on the town. I was late. It was dark and cold outside. I got off the expressway and saw a man sitting by the side of the road. That's pretty common in Chicago, so I don't know what about him tugged at my heartstrings.
He had a cup and a sign. The sign read "Vietnam Vet," which I guess in some circles explains why he was sitting in the 32 degree darkness on a milk crate next to the Division St. off- ramp.
I didn't have any money in my wallet, but I knew I wanted to give him what I did have. We keep a pink Hello Kitty change purse in the car for use on tolls. I grabbed the change purse and rolled down my window. He didn't turn to me.
"Excuse me, sir," I said, holding up the change purse. "Do you need some help?"
He said yes, and I dumped all of the change into his cup. A few coins, pennies I think, dropped on the ground, he bent to pick them up, which I felt bad about, seeing this grown man bend on the road for pennies.
"G-d bless you," he said.
"Thanks, you too, sir. Stay warm and safe."
"G-d bless you. Bless you."
I don't know why that exchange made me uncomfortable, but it did. Was it just because that's the cliched dialog?
There's an old Jewish proverb that an angel of light and an angel of darkness go from house to house every Friday night, searching for people celebrating Shabbat together. It's traditionally told with the angels looking in the window onto a family dinner. If the family is celebrating together, then the angel of light gets a point. When the family isn't together, the angel of darkness gets a point. Only when the angel of darkness gets no points will the Messiah come.
I'm not sure how I feel about the Messianic age, but I know that our house isn't always contributing to it. We rarely go to shul together, and with shows, and rehearsals, and friends, and sheer end-of-the-week exhaustion, we don't always have a nice meal. Do you think that mitzvahs, done in the moment, just because should count? I do.
We hosted Thanksgiving this year. It was sad to be away from our families, but we celebrated with friends. I feel triumphant about it. We managed to serve a multi-course meal that was delicious while in the middle of packing up the apartment. We cleaned as we went, so the house was back to normal by Friday afternoon. It was pretty awesome.
At my parents' house, we all go around the table and tell what we're thankful for. I instituted that tradition in our house as well. We played Nok-Hockey, another South Florida Turkey Day tradition.
A few things to kvell about this Thanksgiving:
Our friends Karen and Dave are now the proud parents of a son, Henry John. He joins adorable older sis, Evelyn, in the family household. We're so excited and happy for you guys!
My Aunt Ellen and cousins Wes, Shane, and Barrie marched in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. This link from my old paper, the Sun-Sentinel, has the full story, pics, and video. It was so cool to ssee them on national tv!
It looks like the house is going to happen! We've been packing over the weekend, including the initial bins of essentials. We bought paint yesterday. One quart of lavender, one quart of blue, and one gallon of red later, we're on the way to making this place ours!
Hope your Thanksgiving was as blessed and happy as ours was.
He had a cup and a sign. The sign read "Vietnam Vet," which I guess in some circles explains why he was sitting in the 32 degree darkness on a milk crate next to the Division St. off- ramp.
I didn't have any money in my wallet, but I knew I wanted to give him what I did have. We keep a pink Hello Kitty change purse in the car for use on tolls. I grabbed the change purse and rolled down my window. He didn't turn to me.
"Excuse me, sir," I said, holding up the change purse. "Do you need some help?"
He said yes, and I dumped all of the change into his cup. A few coins, pennies I think, dropped on the ground, he bent to pick them up, which I felt bad about, seeing this grown man bend on the road for pennies.
"G-d bless you," he said.
"Thanks, you too, sir. Stay warm and safe."
"G-d bless you. Bless you."
I don't know why that exchange made me uncomfortable, but it did. Was it just because that's the cliched dialog?
There's an old Jewish proverb that an angel of light and an angel of darkness go from house to house every Friday night, searching for people celebrating Shabbat together. It's traditionally told with the angels looking in the window onto a family dinner. If the family is celebrating together, then the angel of light gets a point. When the family isn't together, the angel of darkness gets a point. Only when the angel of darkness gets no points will the Messiah come.
I'm not sure how I feel about the Messianic age, but I know that our house isn't always contributing to it. We rarely go to shul together, and with shows, and rehearsals, and friends, and sheer end-of-the-week exhaustion, we don't always have a nice meal. Do you think that mitzvahs, done in the moment, just because should count? I do.
We hosted Thanksgiving this year. It was sad to be away from our families, but we celebrated with friends. I feel triumphant about it. We managed to serve a multi-course meal that was delicious while in the middle of packing up the apartment. We cleaned as we went, so the house was back to normal by Friday afternoon. It was pretty awesome.
At my parents' house, we all go around the table and tell what we're thankful for. I instituted that tradition in our house as well. We played Nok-Hockey, another South Florida Turkey Day tradition.
A few things to kvell about this Thanksgiving:
Our friends Karen and Dave are now the proud parents of a son, Henry John. He joins adorable older sis, Evelyn, in the family household. We're so excited and happy for you guys!
My Aunt Ellen and cousins Wes, Shane, and Barrie marched in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. This link from my old paper, the Sun-Sentinel, has the full story, pics, and video. It was so cool to ssee them on national tv!
It looks like the house is going to happen! We've been packing over the weekend, including the initial bins of essentials. We bought paint yesterday. One quart of lavender, one quart of blue, and one gallon of red later, we're on the way to making this place ours!
Hope your Thanksgiving was as blessed and happy as ours was.
22 November 2006
File: The Past
Matt and I were in the car yesterday and somehow started talking about 5th grade courses. Part of my health offering was "Me-ology," the study of YOU. (From my recollection, that phrase and capitalization is how they introduced the course to us.)
Essentially, the course was a prep for when they separated the boys and the girls and talked to us about sex. Not sure what kind of souvenirs the boys got, but volunteer moms (thank G-d not mine) threw tampons at us. It was traumatizing, or at the very least, very very strange. The girl cafeteria experience, not necessarily Me-ology.
Me-ology was kind of fun. We had this little packet with a hand-drawn kid on the front. I can't remember most of the course (is that why I'm still trying to figure myself out?), but one of the things that sticks in my mind is the Me-Doll. They had us lie down on butcher paper and then traced our fronts and our backs. We decorated them to look like us, and then we stuffed and stapled them. They were life-size* and were pretty cool.
Although, the bus was pretty crowded the day we took them home. (How strange would that have been to a passing car? A busload of kids with kids that looked like them on their laps. Very odd.) I wonder what ever happened to my "me."
*Matt reminded me that they would be slightly smaller than life-size, as they would lose yardage when stuffed and stapled.
Essentially, the course was a prep for when they separated the boys and the girls and talked to us about sex. Not sure what kind of souvenirs the boys got, but volunteer moms (thank G-d not mine) threw tampons at us. It was traumatizing, or at the very least, very very strange. The girl cafeteria experience, not necessarily Me-ology.
Me-ology was kind of fun. We had this little packet with a hand-drawn kid on the front. I can't remember most of the course (is that why I'm still trying to figure myself out?), but one of the things that sticks in my mind is the Me-Doll. They had us lie down on butcher paper and then traced our fronts and our backs. We decorated them to look like us, and then we stuffed and stapled them. They were life-size* and were pretty cool.
Although, the bus was pretty crowded the day we took them home. (How strange would that have been to a passing car? A busload of kids with kids that looked like them on their laps. Very odd.) I wonder what ever happened to my "me."
*Matt reminded me that they would be slightly smaller than life-size, as they would lose yardage when stuffed and stapled.
18 November 2006
File: Home
So, things are better. The home inspection for the new place came back very favorable. (Yay!) So, now we just continue marching forward, getting all of our ducks in a row (as my tenth grade history teacher would say). We close on the 30th, twelve short days until we are homeowners.
I'm excited. I've held back my excitement due to my disappointment with the last place but I'm really starting to picture this place as ours. I bought my first items exclusively for the new home: chocolate brown towels.
Here's what the bathroom looks like now. Here's my idea to transform it. Hence, the chocolate brown towels.
Packing is going well. I hope to finish more rooms today.
I'm excited. I've held back my excitement due to my disappointment with the last place but I'm really starting to picture this place as ours. I bought my first items exclusively for the new home: chocolate brown towels.
Here's what the bathroom looks like now. Here's my idea to transform it. Hence, the chocolate brown towels.
Packing is going well. I hope to finish more rooms today.
31 October 2006
File: Life
Been kind of quiet on here recently. It's gotten a bit rough for me in Chi-town. The routine has been some variation on: get up, obsessively look for houses (more of that in a moment), work, come home, go to bed and obsessively look for houses, come downstairs for edamame and rice, go back to bed, obsessively look for houses, then sleep, exhausted.
The condo purchase fell through. I haven't wanted to blog about it. There's so much going on in the world and I'm sad because buying the condo I wanted is a bad idea, oh, boo for me. But, I am sad.
We lost some money on the deal. ($270 for home inspection, the best cash I've ever spent in my life; $80 for the lawyer.) Turns out that the great big condo had some issues. Examples: faulty electricity, possible plumbing corrosion, insulation installed incorrectly, furnace installed incorrectly, dangerous space heaters/no furnace, ponding water in the basement, mold, weird bugs, either no money in the reserves or no idea where they put the money in the reserves and the big finish of the flaking asbestos pipe.
Grr.
**Update** I realize I never posted the initial ramblings above, written 10/31. Things have gotten better. We found another place that we like a lot. It has central air, central heat, a washer/dryer, (Matt was practically doing cartwheels at this point), a working fireplace, and two secret squirrel rooms in the basement better known as the bat cave. It was completely redone at the turn of this century (2000 -- tee, hee), and it's huge. It's growing on me. It initially lacks the charm of the other places we really liked, but as Matt's dad, the architect, says, you can create charm. Structure is harder. The more we're in the space (and we've been in it the last two weekends), the more I like it. I've been dreaming about wall colors and furniture arranging. We'll have the awesome problem of not having enough furniture for the space, Yay! We had the inspection on Saturday and it went very well. Now, it's just waiting. I think we're going to close on Nov. 30 so a December move is in our future.
We decided not to go to Florida for Thanksgiving. The fare was insane ($800 each!) and we really need the time to get organized and pack. We started packing seriously over the weekend -- one run to the Brown Elephant and 5 boxes and one trunk packed so far. I plan to pack my office in a moment before I leave for work. I love packing. I don't even mind unpacking. It makes me feel in control and organized and I love being organized. It also allows me a chance to go through everything and filter what I have from what I need.
My mom's having surgery at the end of November and my dad is getting shots in his hips in early December. The schedules didn't work, so we're going down in mid January, timeshifting Hanukkah, my birthday, and my dad's birthday all at once.
Okay, I need to pack before work.
The condo purchase fell through. I haven't wanted to blog about it. There's so much going on in the world and I'm sad because buying the condo I wanted is a bad idea, oh, boo for me. But, I am sad.
We lost some money on the deal. ($270 for home inspection, the best cash I've ever spent in my life; $80 for the lawyer.) Turns out that the great big condo had some issues. Examples: faulty electricity, possible plumbing corrosion, insulation installed incorrectly, furnace installed incorrectly, dangerous space heaters/no furnace, ponding water in the basement, mold, weird bugs, either no money in the reserves or no idea where they put the money in the reserves and the big finish of the flaking asbestos pipe.
Grr.
**Update** I realize I never posted the initial ramblings above, written 10/31. Things have gotten better. We found another place that we like a lot. It has central air, central heat, a washer/dryer, (Matt was practically doing cartwheels at this point), a working fireplace, and two secret squirrel rooms in the basement better known as the bat cave. It was completely redone at the turn of this century (2000 -- tee, hee), and it's huge. It's growing on me. It initially lacks the charm of the other places we really liked, but as Matt's dad, the architect, says, you can create charm. Structure is harder. The more we're in the space (and we've been in it the last two weekends), the more I like it. I've been dreaming about wall colors and furniture arranging. We'll have the awesome problem of not having enough furniture for the space, Yay! We had the inspection on Saturday and it went very well. Now, it's just waiting. I think we're going to close on Nov. 30 so a December move is in our future.
We decided not to go to Florida for Thanksgiving. The fare was insane ($800 each!) and we really need the time to get organized and pack. We started packing seriously over the weekend -- one run to the Brown Elephant and 5 boxes and one trunk packed so far. I plan to pack my office in a moment before I leave for work. I love packing. I don't even mind unpacking. It makes me feel in control and organized and I love being organized. It also allows me a chance to go through everything and filter what I have from what I need.
My mom's having surgery at the end of November and my dad is getting shots in his hips in early December. The schedules didn't work, so we're going down in mid January, timeshifting Hanukkah, my birthday, and my dad's birthday all at once.
Okay, I need to pack before work.
22 October 2006
File: Sports
This is Matt yesterday when he picked up his number. We saw him at mile 7.5 and he was looking great. I just got an email from his tracker. He hit the half.
He finished. Lots of emotion from me, lots of tiredness from him. He's recovering. He tells the tale better on his blog. Had lots of fun with Matt's dad and Deb taking the train and skipping all over town. We only saw Matt twice; he only saw us once (at a half mile from the finish).I'm so proud of him, I could just kvell.
13 October 2006
12 October 2006
11 October 2006
09 October 2006
File: Life
Here we are with Iliana, our awesome realtor, with our offer to purchase. After a little negotiation, our offer was accepted. We are on the way to owning!
Yes, this took the cake in terms of excitement.We are buying a house! By house, I mean pretty duplex condo on the northside of the city (Edgewater). It's large and has a lot of potential. And is pretty! And a fireplace! And places for the bookshelves. Oh, so much happiness a girl could burst. Who knew the bank would approve us for a mortgage? It feels so grown-up, but yet at the same time, perfectly normal. Very strange indeed. Yippee!
08 October 2006
File: Life
My photogrqpher.
This is from a moment when he was photographing me and I was photographing him before we went apple picking. Apple picking was a blast, but surprisingly not the highlight of our weekend...01 October 2006
File: Life
Cubs game with Travis. Cubs are down, Trav and I are up. He says We are having fun. He is also worried about his double chin.
He doesn't have one.It was nice for the Cubs to finally win one. We both got pictures of the last pitch.
15 September 2006
File: Life
So, we're back from New York. It was a great place to visit, but we've taken it off the table as a place to live. Well, until we start making $200K. We realized that we have everything we need in Chicago -- why switch it up for a harder life? Hooray.
Karen (who is adorably pregnant) had a Personal DNA Test at her blog. She's a generous idealist, which I think is accurate. I took the test. I'm
Nice to hear some words of encouragement. Things here are a changing.
We went to look at a condo last night. (We figured that since we're going to settle in Chi-town, we might as well own a piece of it.) It had a great living room, and the owner who was selling it was so nice. We wanted to love it. It had nice kitchen cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and a living room with a beautiful view and ivy-covered deocrative wrought iron out front. Unfortunately, it had tiny bedrooms, no place for a kitchen table, and the most depressing alley views I'd ever seen. Had the moment when we were in the condo of thinking to myself, well, we could knock down that wall... Always a bad sign. Matt set up four more appointments for Saturday. We bought a bunch of books and our friend Kevin, who has a background in construction, has offered to come look at a place with us when we find "the one" to check it for structural soundness. Yay.
So, that's the weekend plan.
Happy Friday!
Karen (who is adorably pregnant) had a Personal DNA Test at her blog. She's a generous idealist, which I think is accurate. I took the test. I'm
Nice to hear some words of encouragement. Things here are a changing.
We went to look at a condo last night. (We figured that since we're going to settle in Chi-town, we might as well own a piece of it.) It had a great living room, and the owner who was selling it was so nice. We wanted to love it. It had nice kitchen cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and a living room with a beautiful view and ivy-covered deocrative wrought iron out front. Unfortunately, it had tiny bedrooms, no place for a kitchen table, and the most depressing alley views I'd ever seen. Had the moment when we were in the condo of thinking to myself, well, we could knock down that wall... Always a bad sign. Matt set up four more appointments for Saturday. We bought a bunch of books and our friend Kevin, who has a background in construction, has offered to come look at a place with us when we find "the one" to check it for structural soundness. Yay.
So, that's the weekend plan.
Happy Friday!
05 September 2006
File: Vacation
Some dinosaur history. The Apatosaurus, which means deceptive reptile, used to be the Brontesaurus. They replaced the head with the right one and here it is. My dad was excited about us seeing the dinosaurs because he saw the same ones (although in different poses) as a kid.
04 September 2006
File: Vacation
Nathan's hot dog + beer + no reason not to drink beer at 2 pm on a Monday + free Staten Island Ferry = happy Brandi and Matt.
File: Vacation
I think I like NY the best as I leave it behind. We still have another day here, and I am enjoying our vacation, but I miss Chicago. Home sweet home.
31 August 2006
File: Vacation
Look, Mom, Radio Center Music Hall! We passed this just as the MTV Video Music Awards let out. Pretty crazy fun. We didn't see anyone other than a producer and thousands of excited yellow-shirted kids.
File: Vacation
From the top of the Empire State Building looking at the Flat Iron. Awesome. This is the big "touristy" thing we did.
File: Vacation
In NYC half a day. This is the second movie crew we have seen.
Update (Monday): no idea what was being shot. Wall Street was shut down today for what I think was an Audi commercial shoot. Fun.
File: Vacation
Chinatown. The sign reads: For this glittering pearl let drinking the tea for 5000 more years.
I love NY.
26 August 2006
25 August 2006
File: Work
It has been a rough week. I'm so grateful it's the weekend. Work has been insane. I've been getting up every morning and working late into the evening to get everything done. (I got up at 4 today.) My plan is to work all weekend, with the exception of bowling tomorrow night with Matt and a meeting with a friend from the temple on Sunday to talk about membership.
I'm just running on fumes. I worked twelve hours today, until finally the words on the page started dancing and I couldn't focus. Came home, took a nap, went to shul, am going to go to bed, and then start all over again. Oy.
I just have to survive until Wednesday. Then we leave for our NY vacation.
I'm just running on fumes. I worked twelve hours today, until finally the words on the page started dancing and I couldn't focus. Came home, took a nap, went to shul, am going to go to bed, and then start all over again. Oy.
I just have to survive until Wednesday. Then we leave for our NY vacation.
20 August 2006
File: Life
Whenever there's an occasion in my family, I try and call in to attend the party, even though I'm in Chicago. (Everyone else is in Florida.) I did that over the weekend to help my youngest cousin Barrie celebrate her 20th birthday. (As I side note, I feel so old that she's 20. I remember hearing the news that she was born and jumping up and down on my parents' bed because I now had a girl cousin.)
My mom and I were talking about that today. It's amazing how technology can make you feel closer, even when you're physically far apart. My aunt now prefers e-mail to phone conversation, which works well for me because I've never been able to nail her down on the phone because she's so busy. The web has enabled us to time-shift.
Before you start thinking that this is a post about how the Internet has enabled us all to communicate without ever having to talk, you're wrong. Similar to my feelings on the books and the Internet (book publishers will not close their doors because of the web), I think both can co-exist peacefully and one supplements the other.
My mom and I do it. She's a daily reader of Being Brandi. (Hi, Mom!) Part of what I write is because I want her to feel involved and know what's going on in my life, even if it is boring minutiae (see cute cat picture below) not worthy of long-distance or cell-phone bills. But, my mom and my friends are interested, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
I mentioned to my mom that my friend Erica, who I got to see on Friday, told me about her mom's blog, Tricia Dishes. I read it and really like it.
My mom expressed a little bit of interest in a blog. So, I set her up with one. She wanted it to be called Mom's Pages, but that url was taken. So, my dad named it Mom's The Word. I'm excited for her. And, now I'll get to know what's going on in her life. Mwah ha ha.
No, really, I'm digging this whole technology thing.
My mom and I were talking about that today. It's amazing how technology can make you feel closer, even when you're physically far apart. My aunt now prefers e-mail to phone conversation, which works well for me because I've never been able to nail her down on the phone because she's so busy. The web has enabled us to time-shift.
Before you start thinking that this is a post about how the Internet has enabled us all to communicate without ever having to talk, you're wrong. Similar to my feelings on the books and the Internet (book publishers will not close their doors because of the web), I think both can co-exist peacefully and one supplements the other.
My mom and I do it. She's a daily reader of Being Brandi. (Hi, Mom!) Part of what I write is because I want her to feel involved and know what's going on in my life, even if it is boring minutiae (see cute cat picture below) not worthy of long-distance or cell-phone bills. But, my mom and my friends are interested, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
I mentioned to my mom that my friend Erica, who I got to see on Friday, told me about her mom's blog, Tricia Dishes. I read it and really like it.
My mom expressed a little bit of interest in a blog. So, I set her up with one. She wanted it to be called Mom's Pages, but that url was taken. So, my dad named it Mom's The Word. I'm excited for her. And, now I'll get to know what's going on in her life. Mwah ha ha.
No, really, I'm digging this whole technology thing.
18 August 2006
File: Life
I took Matt to see Wait Wait Don't Tell Me last night. It was a blast. Here we are with star newsman, Carl Kasell.
13 August 2006
File: Life
My weekend project. This is the wall to the left of our front door into the apartment. Matt did the video frame (to left of word shelf). The video changes. Currently, I have our baby pictures and summer photos loading randomly at five-second intervals. I also spray-painted the shelves, framed the letters, and designed where the photos would go on the wall.
We chose "Word" because we thought "love" was overdone. We considered our initials, but then "Word" was brought up as a joke. We found it funny. And, as the room is technically the library, it seemed to fit.
In case you can't see, the little shelf spells our last name in actual typesetting letters (hence the reason it is reversed).
Yay for weekend projects!
07 August 2006
File: Life
In high school and early college, I drove a white Dodge Shadow. Coming home from college one day, my back bumper fell off on the highway, a fact my folks always found incredible and hard to believe.
Driving into work this morning, I noticed this white Dodge Shadow in front of me. I took a picture because, you'll note, it is also missing its tush.
File: Art
I did it! This is everything getting ready to be packed for my resubmission of my picture book. Scary! Now I wait.
Update: I took it to the post office. This time around, I opted for insurance and certified mail. I'll know that arrived, at least. Say a prayer for me in my first step to being a published fiction author.
01 August 2006
File: Art
I have a show tonight.
If you're in Chi-town, stop on by.
7pm.
Fizz (upstairs)
3220 N. Lincoln
$5.
PS-- Matt will be on sound, so you'll get to hear him as well.
UPDATE: The air is broken at Fizz. It's 100-something degrees inside. They've called the show until further notice. I'll keep you posted.
If you're in Chi-town, stop on by.
7pm.
Fizz (upstairs)
3220 N. Lincoln
$5.
PS-- Matt will be on sound, so you'll get to hear him as well.
UPDATE: The air is broken at Fizz. It's 100-something degrees inside. They've called the show until further notice. I'll keep you posted.
28 July 2006
File: Art, Life, Work
This is a post about books.
I miss writing about books, but I've put BookADay on hiatus, supposedly to get more writing done. When I manage to hurl myself out of bed early in the morning, I get writing done. Otherwise, I just get sleeping done. It's a work in progress.
I'm reading Making a Literary Life: Advice for Writers and Other Dreamers right now. I'm not very far, but one of the suggestions is to write a sweet note five times a week to someone you admire in the literary world. So, I ordered blue fold-over note stationery. I haven't received it yet, but will let you know what I think. Anyway, I decided to get ahead and think about who I would write to for the first five days. The first few are easy -- I have their works on my shelves, their words inscribed upon my heart. Jeanette Winterson, Anne Lamott, Sandra Cisneros, Nick Bantock, John Lasseter. And, writing to them scares the hell out of me. It'll be a wild ride. Once my stationery gets here.
In other book news, Dad is revising his book, Troubleshooting and Repairing Major Appliances. Buy the new one! His deadline is Christmas, which means it should come out sometime next year. The new cover was just designed. I'm attempting to upload a picture. It's pretty cool, and I'm really excited for him. Fun tidbit: I'm meeting with his editor at McGraw-Hill when Matt and I are in New York this September.
So, I finally checked out audible.com. It took me awhile because once I had found it I was so depressed I couldn't join. (That was my million-dollar idea!) I've been giving a three-month membership as part of a word-of-mouth marketing campaign headed by the BzzAgent.
BzzAgent is a pretty cool concept, by the way. People sign up to participate in campaigns -- in exchange for free stuff, you talk about what they give you and then write about what you did. The things that makes it so dynamic (and interesting for me) are the combinations of cool new stuff, talking, and writing, as well as the freedom factor. Other marketers have a specific list of things they want you to say. The same is true here (they send a packet for every campaign), but I can talk about the products/services any way I want to. If I hate something, I can tell people about it. (So far that hasn't happened. It has a secondary effect of creating brand loyalty for me to brands I never would have chosen on my own.)
Anyway, I'm part of a Bzzcampaign about audible.com. So, they signed me up for three months, and gave me three books to download at one-month increments. The sign-up was easy and quick -- the hard part was choosing which book to download. I'm normally not an audio book reader? listener? because I listened to Like Water for Chocolate years ago and hated it, hated it, hated it, but when I read the book found it to be stunning. So, I was skeptical. Audible lets you listen to snippets of books. I signed up for an audiobook at the library of a language series, but because I owe a library fine, couldn't claim it. So, I thought a language book. The one I wanted was too expensive (boo!). The site is cool because it lets you listen to snippets (most of the time, I was on a Mac, so it didn't always play for me), as well as read user comments, sort of like Amazon. They're ipod compatible, so once I settled on a book A Piece of Cake by Cupcake Brown, which is her memoir about her life on the street after being screwed by the Child Welfare System) it was easy to place on my shuffle. (It did it all for me, which was pretty cool.
The audio is pretty crisp. I don't know if this is the case of my shuffle, audible, or the audiobook format, but it doesn't have chapters, which is a pain. I can't really fast forward to other parts (the shuffle's not so great at that), but it would have been easier if it was set up like a book, with chapters. For the record, I mostly like the book. Her writing is clear and her story is moving, but she has a tendency to say things like, "And then things were looking up," and you just know that they're not. This was impactful the first few times, but now it's a bit overdone. I'm still going to listen until the end.
And, audible.com is cool (even though I'm not ready to forgive them for doing my idea better than I could have). A lot of NPR content is there. The NY Times is there (you can get it as a daily podcast for free). Their marketing blitz says that they have 27,000 abridged and unabridged titles, which sounds accurate. I think next month I'm going to download Blink, a book I've been meaning to read for awhile. You can try it, too. Here's the special offer: audible.com/bzz gets you a free download. Consider yourself bzzed.
Final work note: my boss told me the other day that we're the company responsible for putting Golden Books out of business. Golden Books! Sigh. For the record, Golden Books have since landed at Random House, so they're still publishing, but holy moly.
Ah, books.
I miss writing about books, but I've put BookADay on hiatus, supposedly to get more writing done. When I manage to hurl myself out of bed early in the morning, I get writing done. Otherwise, I just get sleeping done. It's a work in progress.
I'm reading Making a Literary Life: Advice for Writers and Other Dreamers right now. I'm not very far, but one of the suggestions is to write a sweet note five times a week to someone you admire in the literary world. So, I ordered blue fold-over note stationery. I haven't received it yet, but will let you know what I think. Anyway, I decided to get ahead and think about who I would write to for the first five days. The first few are easy -- I have their works on my shelves, their words inscribed upon my heart. Jeanette Winterson, Anne Lamott, Sandra Cisneros, Nick Bantock, John Lasseter. And, writing to them scares the hell out of me. It'll be a wild ride. Once my stationery gets here.
In other book news, Dad is revising his book, Troubleshooting and Repairing Major Appliances. Buy the new one! His deadline is Christmas, which means it should come out sometime next year. The new cover was just designed. I'm attempting to upload a picture. It's pretty cool, and I'm really excited for him. Fun tidbit: I'm meeting with his editor at McGraw-Hill when Matt and I are in New York this September.
So, I finally checked out audible.com. It took me awhile because once I had found it I was so depressed I couldn't join. (That was my million-dollar idea!) I've been giving a three-month membership as part of a word-of-mouth marketing campaign headed by the BzzAgent.
BzzAgent is a pretty cool concept, by the way. People sign up to participate in campaigns -- in exchange for free stuff, you talk about what they give you and then write about what you did. The things that makes it so dynamic (and interesting for me) are the combinations of cool new stuff, talking, and writing, as well as the freedom factor. Other marketers have a specific list of things they want you to say. The same is true here (they send a packet for every campaign), but I can talk about the products/services any way I want to. If I hate something, I can tell people about it. (So far that hasn't happened. It has a secondary effect of creating brand loyalty for me to brands I never would have chosen on my own.)
Anyway, I'm part of a Bzzcampaign about audible.com. So, they signed me up for three months, and gave me three books to download at one-month increments. The sign-up was easy and quick -- the hard part was choosing which book to download. I'm normally not an audio book reader? listener? because I listened to Like Water for Chocolate years ago and hated it, hated it, hated it, but when I read the book found it to be stunning. So, I was skeptical. Audible lets you listen to snippets of books. I signed up for an audiobook at the library of a language series, but because I owe a library fine, couldn't claim it. So, I thought a language book. The one I wanted was too expensive (boo!). The site is cool because it lets you listen to snippets (most of the time, I was on a Mac, so it didn't always play for me), as well as read user comments, sort of like Amazon. They're ipod compatible, so once I settled on a book A Piece of Cake by Cupcake Brown, which is her memoir about her life on the street after being screwed by the Child Welfare System) it was easy to place on my shuffle. (It did it all for me, which was pretty cool.
The audio is pretty crisp. I don't know if this is the case of my shuffle, audible, or the audiobook format, but it doesn't have chapters, which is a pain. I can't really fast forward to other parts (the shuffle's not so great at that), but it would have been easier if it was set up like a book, with chapters. For the record, I mostly like the book. Her writing is clear and her story is moving, but she has a tendency to say things like, "And then things were looking up," and you just know that they're not. This was impactful the first few times, but now it's a bit overdone. I'm still going to listen until the end.
And, audible.com is cool (even though I'm not ready to forgive them for doing my idea better than I could have). A lot of NPR content is there. The NY Times is there (you can get it as a daily podcast for free). Their marketing blitz says that they have 27,000 abridged and unabridged titles, which sounds accurate. I think next month I'm going to download Blink, a book I've been meaning to read for awhile. You can try it, too. Here's the special offer: audible.com/bzz gets you a free download. Consider yourself bzzed.
Final work note: my boss told me the other day that we're the company responsible for putting Golden Books out of business. Golden Books! Sigh. For the record, Golden Books have since landed at Random House, so they're still publishing, but holy moly.
Ah, books.
25 July 2006
File: Life
And here I am with my silkscreen adventure. Yeah, it reads "book smart." Because I am.
Matt found the tutorial here: http://community.livejournal.com/craftgrrl/3674467.html. We found the instructions to be straight-forward and easy-to-follow. The Modge Podge did take longer to dry than expected (more like 45 minutes rather than 15), but that may have been the way we applied the glue. The plan is to do more soon. It was fun!
File: Life
We t-shirt screened tonight. Here is Prime by Matt after our friend O.P. It looks awesome!
10 July 2006
File: Life
Anytime I clean the house, I feel like a rockstar. I realize how ridiculous that is, but it's true. I feel like I've just run a marathon, played for the President, conquered a culprit. So, while Matt ran 10 miles yesterday, I scrubbed the kitchen.
I had felt inspired because he did a Make blog project, turning his old Powerbook into a picture frame. It now displays our photos in a continuous slideshow. He hung it on the wall, just to see how it's going to look. It's going to be awesome.
So, I felt like I needed to do something. We both want to solve our house ugly. Our problem is that we clean in manic-like states. The house gets to be too much, then we freak out and do a marathon-cleaning. We talked about this yesterday, too. Part of the reason for this is that we're both designers. To use Matt's words, we'd rather take the time to figure out how to make something to sweep the stairs, rather than just sweeping the stairs. I put up a chore list in the kitchen. It's a weekly chore list. We decided that a week was Monday-Sunday, so I couldn’t check anything off. This was okay because I wanted to clean anyway. So, I cleaned the kitchen. Our biggest problem is the accumulation of stuff. Things just pile upon pile. But, I did it. I made it through the kitchen (and only the kitchen, following the one project at a time rule which I’m notorious for breaking), fixing things that had bugged me for awhile. (For example, we don't hang pictures for whatever reason. So, I stacked them nicely and placed them artistically throughout the kitchen and felt that I made a design choice. I created a space that we want to be in. And I feel like a superhero for that.
Our friend Karen calls cleaning “blessing the house.” I love that term because it feels so true.
Tonight, I conquer my laundry.
I had felt inspired because he did a Make blog project, turning his old Powerbook into a picture frame. It now displays our photos in a continuous slideshow. He hung it on the wall, just to see how it's going to look. It's going to be awesome.
So, I felt like I needed to do something. We both want to solve our house ugly. Our problem is that we clean in manic-like states. The house gets to be too much, then we freak out and do a marathon-cleaning. We talked about this yesterday, too. Part of the reason for this is that we're both designers. To use Matt's words, we'd rather take the time to figure out how to make something to sweep the stairs, rather than just sweeping the stairs. I put up a chore list in the kitchen. It's a weekly chore list. We decided that a week was Monday-Sunday, so I couldn’t check anything off. This was okay because I wanted to clean anyway. So, I cleaned the kitchen. Our biggest problem is the accumulation of stuff. Things just pile upon pile. But, I did it. I made it through the kitchen (and only the kitchen, following the one project at a time rule which I’m notorious for breaking), fixing things that had bugged me for awhile. (For example, we don't hang pictures for whatever reason. So, I stacked them nicely and placed them artistically throughout the kitchen and felt that I made a design choice. I created a space that we want to be in. And I feel like a superhero for that.
Our friend Karen calls cleaning “blessing the house.” I love that term because it feels so true.
Tonight, I conquer my laundry.
21 June 2006
File: Art
I feel like a rockstar.
I did it. I revised a story. This may sound like nothing, but it's something big to me. This is my kid's book that I took out for a spin last year. I sent it to a publishing company, never heard back, so did nothing. So much for persistence (which, ironically, is what the story is about).
As part of my revised schedule, I've been working in the mornings on writing. Some mornings I actually write. But most mornings, I've been revising my work. It's hard to tear something down that I once thought was so good. I still think this story has a weak point, but I'm proud of it. I took it from a draft to a polished story.
It makes me feel amazing.
Yay!
Btw, I'm searching Chicago for a writer's group.
I did it. I revised a story. This may sound like nothing, but it's something big to me. This is my kid's book that I took out for a spin last year. I sent it to a publishing company, never heard back, so did nothing. So much for persistence (which, ironically, is what the story is about).
As part of my revised schedule, I've been working in the mornings on writing. Some mornings I actually write. But most mornings, I've been revising my work. It's hard to tear something down that I once thought was so good. I still think this story has a weak point, but I'm proud of it. I took it from a draft to a polished story.
It makes me feel amazing.
Yay!
Btw, I'm searching Chicago for a writer's group.
19 June 2006
File: Friends
Congrats to Erica and Fuzzy on their upcoming nuptials. Here they are cutting the cake at their bridal shower.
15 June 2006
File: Life
I've been back from Seattle for a few weeks now.
I've been struggling with a funk. Things are hard right now. Working through them, but they're hard.
I've been trying to establish a new routine. I kept feeling that I was cheating myself out of time; that I wasn't accomplishing anything. So, I decided to change that.
Most mornings, I get up early. I go to the gym. I write. I have a bunch of writing projects that I'm working on. Revising the screenplay. Dusting off the short stories. Figuring out how to really shop my kid's book, Voza Sings. A memoir. It sounds pretentious to even write that.
In typical Brandi style, I jumped in with both feet. I feel more creatively fulfilled, but haven't had the time and energy for my beloved blogs. Sorry about that, but I need to do this for me.
It's hard taking ownership on things. Putting a stake in the ground and saying, "Mine!" I'm learning how to do that more. I may have gone too far in the other direction because I've mostly stopped cleaning the house and the fishtank is turning greenish. It's all about balance.
I've been struggling with a funk. Things are hard right now. Working through them, but they're hard.
I've been trying to establish a new routine. I kept feeling that I was cheating myself out of time; that I wasn't accomplishing anything. So, I decided to change that.
Most mornings, I get up early. I go to the gym. I write. I have a bunch of writing projects that I'm working on. Revising the screenplay. Dusting off the short stories. Figuring out how to really shop my kid's book, Voza Sings. A memoir. It sounds pretentious to even write that.
In typical Brandi style, I jumped in with both feet. I feel more creatively fulfilled, but haven't had the time and energy for my beloved blogs. Sorry about that, but I need to do this for me.
It's hard taking ownership on things. Putting a stake in the ground and saying, "Mine!" I'm learning how to do that more. I may have gone too far in the other direction because I've mostly stopped cleaning the house and the fishtank is turning greenish. It's all about balance.
27 May 2006
File: Travel
This is Isabelle. Darrah and I joked that she and Patrick are betroved. She's been sleeping holding onto this stuffed puppy.
Behind her are the staples of our Seattle trip: Gatorade, saltines, Emetrol, Sprite, this hotel
room. Poor Darrah has been sick since Wednesday night. Hopefully, she'll be on the mend soon.
We can see downtown Seattle from our window. And an unidentified mountain that's not Mt. Rainier. The Space Needle, too. It's behind the Kmart sign.
25 May 2006
File: Travel
I landed. This is a cute suitcase sculpture I saw. It's true you can't throw a rock without hitting a coffeeshop. Six so far and I haven't left the airport.
24 May 2006
File: Life
Wow, it has been awhile since I've posted. Nothing bad, just busy.
Tomorrow, I leave for Seattle where I'm going to hep Darrah find an apartment and tour around the Space Needle town.
Pictures to come, maybe even some cell phone camera shots.
Cheerio!
Tomorrow, I leave for Seattle where I'm going to hep Darrah find an apartment and tour around the Space Needle town.
Pictures to come, maybe even some cell phone camera shots.
Cheerio!
25 April 2006
File: Religion
Brothel ad in Germany (via BBC) is upsetting.
Like every other brothel/strip club ad, it's insulting to women. At least that's the way I feel. It has the flags of all the World Cup countries (it's that time of year over in Europe), which has brought threats of Violence from some Muslims.
They find it as an insult to Islam that the flags, bearing Islamic symbol, were used in the ad, which is the size of a tall building.
From the article:
Are these people just wacko? Don't Muslims find violence to be against Islam? Have they twisted an ad into an attack? Or, are they right? (I don't think they are, but I'm getting all turned around.) Please help me answer this.
I feel like the world is getting crazier every day.
Like every other brothel/strip club ad, it's insulting to women. At least that's the way I feel. It has the flags of all the World Cup countries (it's that time of year over in Europe), which has brought threats of Violence from some Muslims.
They find it as an insult to Islam that the flags, bearing Islamic symbol, were used in the ad, which is the size of a tall building.
From the article:
First there were telephone threats of violence, then about 30 hooded protesters armed with knives and sticks arrived..."The situation was explosive,"
Are these people just wacko? Don't Muslims find violence to be against Islam? Have they twisted an ad into an attack? Or, are they right? (I don't think they are, but I'm getting all turned around.) Please help me answer this.
I feel like the world is getting crazier every day.
24 April 2006
File: Blog, Art
Changed the sidebar. Added some new reads.
Spent the majority of the weekend putting together a stage reading from Anne Frank's diary that I'm doing tonight at Kol Ami. It's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, but it was intriguing to culminate the four weeks of work I've put into it. I chose, edited, and rehearsed parts from her diary to create a 15 minute performance. Hopefully, it'll be moving and respectful.
I walked a thin line, trying to decide what to include and what to leave out. In the first half of the book, she's going through all of these awful changes that involve going into hiding and living with seven other people in a cramped space that you can never leave; however, she's still 13 when she begins writing. And so she's got all the drama that comes from being 13. She's whiny, she hates her parents, people treat her like a baby, she wants her period to come.
It's the second half of the diary that she becomes the Anne Frank that everyone wants to remember. She's insightful, she writes beautifully, and she's slightly older (14-15). The weird thing is that her writing only changes after she hears a report on the radio. There's a news story about people who keep diaries after the war. She decides she wants to publish hers as the Secret Annexe and even goes back to rewrite and edit some of her earlier entries. (She goes as far to change the names of the other housemates.) After the war, her father only decides to have the diary published because of her constant entries detailing this very same desire. (There are a lot of them.)
It's true that writing for publication changed the way that she wrote. Most people (self included) write differently when they believe that someone may be reading. Does that make it any less true? I'm not sure what I think on this one. She wanted to be seen as insightful; therefore she is. I realize that there's more to it than that, but still. One never knows that, if she lived, what she would be like, or if the diary would have been published. I'd like to think that she would have gone on to great things, like I hope to do.
I need to go back and read my own journals from 13-15. What will I find in there? Did I leave myself a message in those forgotten pages? Is there something that will give me conviction and courage? Or will I only find the "unbosomings of a schoolgirl?" (Anne Frank.)
Her writing made me think about my personal heroes: Anne Frank, Nellie Bly, Anne Lamott, my husband, my dad. These are all people who worked to change their corner of the world. Sometimes, in light of the first three, they changed more than their corner. in the case of the second two, the jury's still out on how much of the world they ahve changed. They sure changed me.
Spent the majority of the weekend putting together a stage reading from Anne Frank's diary that I'm doing tonight at Kol Ami. It's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, but it was intriguing to culminate the four weeks of work I've put into it. I chose, edited, and rehearsed parts from her diary to create a 15 minute performance. Hopefully, it'll be moving and respectful.
I walked a thin line, trying to decide what to include and what to leave out. In the first half of the book, she's going through all of these awful changes that involve going into hiding and living with seven other people in a cramped space that you can never leave; however, she's still 13 when she begins writing. And so she's got all the drama that comes from being 13. She's whiny, she hates her parents, people treat her like a baby, she wants her period to come.
It's the second half of the diary that she becomes the Anne Frank that everyone wants to remember. She's insightful, she writes beautifully, and she's slightly older (14-15). The weird thing is that her writing only changes after she hears a report on the radio. There's a news story about people who keep diaries after the war. She decides she wants to publish hers as the Secret Annexe and even goes back to rewrite and edit some of her earlier entries. (She goes as far to change the names of the other housemates.) After the war, her father only decides to have the diary published because of her constant entries detailing this very same desire. (There are a lot of them.)
It's true that writing for publication changed the way that she wrote. Most people (self included) write differently when they believe that someone may be reading. Does that make it any less true? I'm not sure what I think on this one. She wanted to be seen as insightful; therefore she is. I realize that there's more to it than that, but still. One never knows that, if she lived, what she would be like, or if the diary would have been published. I'd like to think that she would have gone on to great things, like I hope to do.
I need to go back and read my own journals from 13-15. What will I find in there? Did I leave myself a message in those forgotten pages? Is there something that will give me conviction and courage? Or will I only find the "unbosomings of a schoolgirl?" (Anne Frank.)
Her writing made me think about my personal heroes: Anne Frank, Nellie Bly, Anne Lamott, my husband, my dad. These are all people who worked to change their corner of the world. Sometimes, in light of the first three, they changed more than their corner. in the case of the second two, the jury's still out on how much of the world they ahve changed. They sure changed me.
20 April 2006
File: Life
Karen asked how the seder went last Thursday. Today's the last day of Passover, so here's my seder wrap-up.
We were lucky because some wonderfully cool people showed up. The table looked beautiful, especially because we used hand-painted plates (painted by yours truly and Matt), which was a nice touch.
As I was the only Jew, when putting together the Haggadah, I really mixed up. I wanted it to be accessible, fun, and meaningful. So, I started out with the Muppets. I found this great song online set to the Muppet show. "It's time to start the Seder..." It was so popular that it got requested at the end, too.
It was long, with people leaving around 12:15, but it awesome. Much singing, multiple plagues. I did a progressive approach. After we named the ancient plagues (which include blood and frogs), we named current plagues (AIDS, poverty). Then, we opened it up to plagues we're worried about (corporate greed was among them). It was nice. New additions to the seder plate: an orange and an olive. I thought that the orange signified the inclusion of women as Rabbis, but I read that it actually means the inclusion of all of those on the outside of Judaism, especially gays, lesbians, and transexuals. I think it also stands for those of us who chose intermarriage. The olive stands for peace in the middle east.
We told the Passover story, but we did it in our own way. There was a lot of joy at that table. And it was great. It wasn't mom's Seder, but it was the seder I've always wanted. I think we're going to make it a tradition to throw the second night seder every year.
We were lucky because some wonderfully cool people showed up. The table looked beautiful, especially because we used hand-painted plates (painted by yours truly and Matt), which was a nice touch.
As I was the only Jew, when putting together the Haggadah, I really mixed up. I wanted it to be accessible, fun, and meaningful. So, I started out with the Muppets. I found this great song online set to the Muppet show. "It's time to start the Seder..." It was so popular that it got requested at the end, too.
It was long, with people leaving around 12:15, but it awesome. Much singing, multiple plagues. I did a progressive approach. After we named the ancient plagues (which include blood and frogs), we named current plagues (AIDS, poverty). Then, we opened it up to plagues we're worried about (corporate greed was among them). It was nice. New additions to the seder plate: an orange and an olive. I thought that the orange signified the inclusion of women as Rabbis, but I read that it actually means the inclusion of all of those on the outside of Judaism, especially gays, lesbians, and transexuals. I think it also stands for those of us who chose intermarriage. The olive stands for peace in the middle east.
We told the Passover story, but we did it in our own way. There was a lot of joy at that table. And it was great. It wasn't mom's Seder, but it was the seder I've always wanted. I think we're going to make it a tradition to throw the second night seder every year.
19 April 2006
File: Art
We have a freelancer whose book was just published. I saw it on the front table at Borders, and on a special interest table at Barnes and Noble. It’s kind of exciting, knowing an author.
I say this despite being an author myself (at least a co-ghost-author, a slightly less sexy, but more accurate title).
That said, his book is just okay. The writer is a good one, but the book is just about a certain time in his life. Publisher’s Weekly called it “juvenile,” which is a pretty accurate description, if you ask me.
Yet, I love this book because it inspires me. If this guy can write a book that someone deems worthy enough to publish, what’s stopping me? As part of the spring of stuff that scares me, it’s time. I started two different titles over the weekend.
And here’s one of them:
What Question Do You Most Want Answered? My plan is to ask people all across America (and, hopefully, the world!) this question, find out the answers, and publish them in a book.
I’m not entirely sure how to get the word out. I started on Craig’s list, and have received two questions so far. (Yippee!) As Chicago’s a pretty major market, I almost want to send out a press release, but that does seem a tad garish. Also, I need to get more things in place. Need to get the website up (a one page holder will be fine), need to get a form on the site so people can really send it anonymously, need to get a p.o. box, really need to get an agent/publisher.
Interested? Send me the question you most want answered. You can send it anonymously, or you can send me your city, state, and occupation with it. Or, if you’re a friend of mine, let me know if you want me to use your name or not. By sending me your question, you give me the right to publish your words. Help my dream while finding out the answer to your big question! Send the question you most want answered to: questionyoumostwantanswered@gmail.com.
I say this despite being an author myself (at least a co-ghost-author, a slightly less sexy, but more accurate title).
That said, his book is just okay. The writer is a good one, but the book is just about a certain time in his life. Publisher’s Weekly called it “juvenile,” which is a pretty accurate description, if you ask me.
Yet, I love this book because it inspires me. If this guy can write a book that someone deems worthy enough to publish, what’s stopping me? As part of the spring of stuff that scares me, it’s time. I started two different titles over the weekend.
And here’s one of them:
What Question Do You Most Want Answered? My plan is to ask people all across America (and, hopefully, the world!) this question, find out the answers, and publish them in a book.
I’m not entirely sure how to get the word out. I started on Craig’s list, and have received two questions so far. (Yippee!) As Chicago’s a pretty major market, I almost want to send out a press release, but that does seem a tad garish. Also, I need to get more things in place. Need to get the website up (a one page holder will be fine), need to get a form on the site so people can really send it anonymously, need to get a p.o. box, really need to get an agent/publisher.
Interested? Send me the question you most want answered. You can send it anonymously, or you can send me your city, state, and occupation with it. Or, if you’re a friend of mine, let me know if you want me to use your name or not. By sending me your question, you give me the right to publish your words. Help my dream while finding out the answer to your big question! Send the question you most want answered to: questionyoumostwantanswered@gmail.com.
06 April 2006
File: Art, Life, Work
Just as I was leaving work today, Diane, a co-worker of mine, posed this question to me: If I won the billion dollar lottery, what would I do with myself? (An aside: I love that it's a billion dollar lottery, as inflation has finally won and a simple million won't cut it.)
I sort of whiffed on the question. I told her I'd keep working part time, just to keep myself on a schedule, as I'm at my best when I'm working on deadlines for others rather than myself. She countered with a follow up, "Yeah, but doing what? What industry?" My first answer was reading and books. But that quickly followed with my other loves: video, technology, theatre, writing. I'd definitely write that book.
I was thinking about it on the drive home. It's not really about medium for me. I love content. It's such a stale word, but it can describe so much, and that's why I'm using it. I love producing content, absorbing content, and almost most of all, sharing content. I'm just as happy to send a link to a cool website that's helped me, as I am to send a photograph I've taken, talk about a book I love, or recount a scene that made me laugh so hard I hyperventilated.
I like to help others.
Information sharing, especially through writing, is the method I'm best at; perhaps the only method of helping others that I really trust for myself. That said, there are so many other methods of information sharing that intrigue me. I think I would feel that I was missing something if I had to give up any one of those mediums.
Maybe it's the art school background. Communication arts, my area, exposed me to so many different playgrounds that I didn't want to choose just the slide or the swings. I just want to explore them all.
I should have said that as long as I have my hand in content creation, I'll be happy. I think a billion dollars would enable me to work smarter towards that, but I think it would also give me the opportunity to find new ways of content creation (maybe even ones that haven't been invented yet; it would be cool to invent something). I think what I'd really like from the lottery fairy is to split my winnings: some money (say, 8-12 million) and the rest in time. That's the biggest problem: I don't have the time to explore (and get really, really good at) all of the areas of content creation that pique my curiosity.
But, at least I can narrow it down. Cheesy business card here I come: Content Creator, Medium Flexible.
I sort of whiffed on the question. I told her I'd keep working part time, just to keep myself on a schedule, as I'm at my best when I'm working on deadlines for others rather than myself. She countered with a follow up, "Yeah, but doing what? What industry?" My first answer was reading and books. But that quickly followed with my other loves: video, technology, theatre, writing. I'd definitely write that book.
I was thinking about it on the drive home. It's not really about medium for me. I love content. It's such a stale word, but it can describe so much, and that's why I'm using it. I love producing content, absorbing content, and almost most of all, sharing content. I'm just as happy to send a link to a cool website that's helped me, as I am to send a photograph I've taken, talk about a book I love, or recount a scene that made me laugh so hard I hyperventilated.
I like to help others.
Information sharing, especially through writing, is the method I'm best at; perhaps the only method of helping others that I really trust for myself. That said, there are so many other methods of information sharing that intrigue me. I think I would feel that I was missing something if I had to give up any one of those mediums.
Maybe it's the art school background. Communication arts, my area, exposed me to so many different playgrounds that I didn't want to choose just the slide or the swings. I just want to explore them all.
I should have said that as long as I have my hand in content creation, I'll be happy. I think a billion dollars would enable me to work smarter towards that, but I think it would also give me the opportunity to find new ways of content creation (maybe even ones that haven't been invented yet; it would be cool to invent something). I think what I'd really like from the lottery fairy is to split my winnings: some money (say, 8-12 million) and the rest in time. That's the biggest problem: I don't have the time to explore (and get really, really good at) all of the areas of content creation that pique my curiosity.
But, at least I can narrow it down. Cheesy business card here I come: Content Creator, Medium Flexible.
03 April 2006
File: Life
You probably can't see me like I see me. But, right now, I look like who I imagine myself to be.
File: Life
I keep forgetting how old I am.
I hadn't been asked since my birthday back in December. I realize that's not the longest time, but it's incredible that I just can't seem to remember. Am I 27 or 28? Both seem scary and neither seem like 26, which I thought I was.
Read an article in Jane about why it's awesome to be in your 20s followed by an article about a bunch of amazing women in their 20s. It made me blue. What am I doing with myself? How do I get mentioned as a "30 under 30"? If I die right now, will anyone remember me in five years? Blue kitty, I.
I need to remember to continue on my path and redefine my goals. The spring of stuff that scares me helps. Maybe? It's possible that I'm just diluting my goals, once again shying away in a passive act of self-sabotage. Plan: one weekend a month dedicated to goals. Current big goal: publish something. Matt's counter: I already have. My counter counter: Not good enough. Secondary goal: stop discounting self.
So there it is. Show shopping (matching Chucks) helped. Newfound love of piano playing helps. Cats who hate one another does not help.
Okay, off to conquer another week.
I hadn't been asked since my birthday back in December. I realize that's not the longest time, but it's incredible that I just can't seem to remember. Am I 27 or 28? Both seem scary and neither seem like 26, which I thought I was.
Read an article in Jane about why it's awesome to be in your 20s followed by an article about a bunch of amazing women in their 20s. It made me blue. What am I doing with myself? How do I get mentioned as a "30 under 30"? If I die right now, will anyone remember me in five years? Blue kitty, I.
I need to remember to continue on my path and redefine my goals. The spring of stuff that scares me helps. Maybe? It's possible that I'm just diluting my goals, once again shying away in a passive act of self-sabotage. Plan: one weekend a month dedicated to goals. Current big goal: publish something. Matt's counter: I already have. My counter counter: Not good enough. Secondary goal: stop discounting self.
So there it is. Show shopping (matching Chucks) helped. Newfound love of piano playing helps. Cats who hate one another does not help.
Okay, off to conquer another week.
File: Life
I keep forgetting how old I am.
I hadn't been asked since my birthday back in December. I realize that's not the longest time, but it's incredible that I just can't seem to remember. Am I 27 or 28? Both seem scary and neither seem like 26, which I thought I was.
Read an article in Jane about why it's awesome to be in your 20s followed by an article about a bunch of amazing women in their 20s. It made me blue. What am I doing with myself? How do I get mentioned as a "30 under 30"? If I die right now, will anyone remember me in five years? Blue kitty, I.
I need to remember to continue on my path and redefine my goals. The spring of stuff that scares me helps. Maybe? It's possible that I'm just diluting my goals, once again shying away in a passive act of self-sabotage. Plan: one weekend a month dedicated to goals. Current big goal: publish something. Matt's counter: I already have. My counter counter: Not good enough. Secondary goal: stop discounting self.
So there it is. Show shopping (matching Chucks) helped. Newfound love of piano playing helps. Cats who hate one another does not help.
Okay, off to conquer another week.
I hadn't been asked since my birthday back in December. I realize that's not the longest time, but it's incredible that I just can't seem to remember. Am I 27 or 28? Both seem scary and neither seem like 26, which I thought I was.
Read an article in Jane about why it's awesome to be in your 20s followed by an article about a bunch of amazing women in their 20s. It made me blue. What am I doing with myself? How do I get mentioned as a "30 under 30"? If I die right now, will anyone remember me in five years? Blue kitty, I.
I need to remember to continue on my path and redefine my goals. The spring of stuff that scares me helps. Maybe? It's possible that I'm just diluting my goals, once again shying away in a passive act of self-sabotage. Plan: one weekend a month dedicated to goals. Current big goal: publish something. Matt's counter: I already have. My counter counter: Not good enough. Secondary goal: stop discounting self.
So there it is. Show shopping (matching Chucks) helped. Newfound love of piano playing helps. Cats who hate one another does not help.
Okay, off to conquer another week.
02 April 2006
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