Perils of assimilation

New Years?

2009-12-31T15:36:00.001-08:00

Well, Bah Humbug, Boys and Girls. Another fucking year down the tube, and we're all supposed to go out and celebrate it, eh? I'll be at home, drinking myself stupid and making a quiche, which will be more like a frittata because I'm scared of making pie crust. So I might as well give you the obligatory run through of the year before I pass out spread eagle on my living room floor.

Jan: Threw a fabulous New Years' party and kissed a queer ginger named Justin at midnight, woke up the next morning with a horrific hangover.

Feb: Moved out of that hellish apartment, moved in with an Argentine. Spent my brithday depressed, went out with a random couchsurfer, a co-worker whom I hardly knew, and Adam. Ended up paying for Adam's drinks the whole night.

March: Finally said "I love you" to Brian. Totally worth it.

April: It was cold. I drank a lot.

May: Spent two glorious weeks in DC, and have now seen every museum there. Unfortunately, that's pretty much all there is.

June: Sat on Jamie's porch and drank.

July: Sat on Jamie's porch and drank.

August: Sat on Jamie's porch and drank. Discovered I actually like mushrooms, despite the minor allergic reaction they give me. Food Phobia, conquered!

Sept,Oct,Nov: went to class almost regularly for a change. Had Swine flu.

Dec: Stressed myself out too much.

There ya go! Swell year, eh? Now leave me alone. I plan on being unconscious by ten.

Just a few more days

2009-11-23T19:24:00.000-08:00

Last year for Thanksgiving, I sat at home at the old hellhole of an apartment by myself, picking at some left over tofurkey a friend had given me. I had no way to get home, and no money at all. I had just gone to Seattle on a whim to see a guy I met on a train back in October (We're still together, got to see him this weekend!). It was cold and dark, and tofurkey tasted like ass but I ate it for a week because I had nothing else. It was a real low point.

This year I am also not going to see my family(Though I suspect they will try to kidnap me on Tuesday). My Dad has bailed on Thanksgiving for the past five years or so, and this time he'll be there. So I must keep up the disappearing family member tradition this year. I am cooking along with Lila and Caroline for Caroline's family. It's an exciting time. I get to do something I love and have Caroline's family foot the bill. We have an organic turkey purchased, at least. Everything else is still up in the air. I'm pulling for some kind of braised winter green or an orange-fennel salad. Oo, or brussels sprouts and bacon. Caroline's mom is a diabetic, so we have to keep the sugar content to a minimum, so a savory sweet potato dish has been settled on instead of the sickly sweet mash that everyone loves so much. The food blogs are going mad with all this Thanksgiving prep and I fucking love it. So many ideas bouncing around!

I've been swallowed by the school monster!

2009-11-16T19:11:00.000-08:00

Since school has started I haven't had very much time for anything else. I always have something to do, and some pretty interesting ways to procrastinate on it. But, like every school year that I can remember, this procrastination has done me in again. I have a large assignment in every one of my classes all due this week, Thursday in fact, the day that I am flying out to DC. It's not that I'm bad at this stuff, I'm actually kind of good at it. I have a terrible time getting started because I feel that I am not very creative and I am afraid of failure. Everytime I don't turn in an assignment it's because I feel like what I have is too mediocre to turn in (or I forgot about it). I do my best work when I'm in a state of emotional turmoil, when it's life I need to avoid for a while. My life has been too stable for that.

Bake!

2009-10-05T10:30:00.000-07:00

Today is my neighbor Jamie's 61st birthday, and in his honor I am baking him a cake. It's Lemon-rose with a orange and Razz rum glaze. I know he doesn't really eat cake or anything but vodka, but this is what people do for birthdays, so he's getting a fucking cake. Jamie is my favorite neighbor, he's the guy who's always there for you with a coffee mug of vodka and sassy advice. He was Miss Gay Wisconsin 1975 and recently recieved an award for founding Milwaukee's Pridefest. He's the youngest 61 year old I know. Love ya, darling. Here's to you.

WAA!

2009-09-18T11:08:00.000-07:00

Time out for self-indulgence.

Work today, ew. I look exceptionally cute today, and I have to go put on my nasty black(though there's red bleach spots now)uniform. I sent in my resume to Anodyne yesterday, and I'm waiting to see if I get called up. I have bad luck with getting hired at decent palces. Though, there is a certain comfort in having a job that you don't value. I can take outrageous amounts of time off to go be with my boyfriend in the warm part of the country, for one. Speaking of the boyfriend, I cannot wait to be in DC next weekend! I miss him tons, and you all know I'm not the mushiest person in the world. I'm worried about when we might see each other next, it might be a while since he's going to Utrecht soon.

My roommate is acting lke a bitch and I can't wait for her to move out. My new roommie is an incredibly nerdy dude who just got back from Taiwan. School is alright, except I can't remember to do the assignments because they're on D2L. Who thought that was a good idea? I hardly remember when I have something in front of me reminding me.

I'm getting sick and I have my period, so I'm whiny and cranky. I'll be over here pouting, guys.

2009-09-13T09:04:00.000-07:00

I am going to lose my shnitzel, yo. I will put up with a lot of shit for a job, but we're approaching the deal-breaker threshold. It all started a few weeks ago, with the 5-year anniversary of the store I work at. There was a party outside that the employees weren't allowed to go to, but that I cooked most of the food for. I didn't have to, it was not my job but the buck was passed to me. No one ever said thank you.

The next day, expecting a return to normal, I waltzed in with a grin on my face. The store was pandemonium! People everywhere, all demanding my attention. I hauled sound equiptment inside, not realizing the pain I was about to be subjected to. Four solid hours of acoustic guitar! It just kept getting worse the next day: an electric guitarist with Muzak beats behind him.

Now it's keyboards. For HOURS. I have to hide in the back, ears covered and tears in my eyes. I cannot describe the intense emotional pain this man's playing subjects me to. It makes me want to hurt myself. I must quit this job, for once and for all.

The Neighborhood Bitch

2009-08-21T00:18:00.001-07:00

I knew I wasn't well liked, but I never thought I was the neighborhood bitch. I had to call the cops on my neighbors tonight, some friends actually. I might've started a neighborhood war, but I think I made a good decision. When someone is screaming and another to get the fuck out of their house, and another neighbor is already yelling for them to shut up, it's time to shut it down. I am now the neighborhood bitch.

What ever happened to going out to a field to party? Aren't you supposed to hide your vices when you're seventeen.

Co-ops

2009-08-19T00:12:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, the co-op was where my mom would go to buy chicken feed and hay. You could get all sorts of stuff for your farm: silage when you were low, equipment, and gasoline. I remember it was across the street from the ET Lumber and the elementary school I went to. It's not there anymore, but now I go to a different sort of co-op.

I started going to the Just Local food Co-op in Eau Claire after running across a carrot mural during one of my nightly walks. Soon, I discovered if I got up early enough I could get a free cup of coffee from them at the farmer's market that took place on campus. It was my favorite place to stop during a bike ride.

Recently, I joined the Riverwest co-op here in Milwaukee. I had been there plenty of times before, and was always off-put by the icy hipsters that bumped into me as we tried to squeeze past each other. But the last time I was there, Everyone was so helpful, and I got a nice big bag of not too pretty, but totally edible veggies for free. I joined up that day.

I had been meaning to do that for a long time. I work at a corporate grocery store, where employees are treated poorly, no one gets more than minimum wage, and all the supposedly 'fresh' foods are shipped to us in bags from a factory. It's a sad state. I will no longer buy food from the deli section now that I know where it comes from and how it's prepared. Oh yeah, and this is a fancy grocery store.

I'm no stranger to the health store thing, we had one in ET called Nokomis. My best friend worked there, and would snag me day old loaves of bread before there were given to the cows to eat. It was the best bread in the world, there were days that I would eat nothing but their Farmer's bread; with cream cheese, with Peanut butter, with nothing at all.

Then one day the oven broke, and bread production stopped. No bread, no customers, and Nokomis was bought out by the organic farm next door. I miss that wonderful bread.

They can have it!

2009-08-12T19:39:00.000-07:00

Retreat! The minute insects that have invaded my apartment can have it. I even found tiny bugs living in my lettuce and in my sugar!

They Came From Outerspace

2009-08-04T17:22:00.000-07:00

Recently, my tiny kitchen has been taken over by fruitflies. Clouds and clouds of them emerge everytime you throw something out, go near the sink, or the kitchen. I'm not sure where they all come from, Caroline's theory is that they live in bananas and emerge when it's gone too rotten. Where ever they come from, I want them gone.

I have set up a trap of a little dish of beer that is covered in plastic wrap, with a few little holes poked through so they can get in, but not out. A few fruity bastards have fallen for it, but I can't seem to get too many.

Gastropods

2009-07-12T11:02:00.000-07:00

How does escargot taste? Garlicky, Buttery, with a dash of white wine. The sauce is the real flavor, the snails don't offer much aside from texture. Conclusion: Stick with Bivalves.

Drunk Before 4? Oh Yes I Am!

2009-07-03T13:33:00.000-07:00

I am bored. To pass the time I cook massive amounts of food, with just me to eat it. Today: Caramelized onion and tomato tart, red leaf salad with cranberries, walnuts and gorganzola, and some lovely grapes. And of course, when I cook, I drink. And when cooking takes a long time, I drink extra. For something to do. I listen to WUWM, the local NPR affiliate.

"Withnail and I" has been the best movie I've seen in a while. I can see why it's got a cult following in England. Should be more popular in the states.

Lila wants me to go down to Racine today. Last time I went to Racine, I spent WAY too much money. And so, I am reluctant.

It Boggles The Mind

2009-06-09T18:16:00.001-07:00

MKE

2009-05-29T17:37:00.000-07:00

Flew into Milwaukee this morning. I met the girl whose subleasing from Romi, and she's a complete dip. Her room is where stuffed animals go to die. But she does have a toaster, which is a redeeming quality. I predict hilariousness this summer.

I'm not used to hearing different voices in the building. I keep thinking that we're being overrun by strangers, but it's just different tenants.

There was a bizarre shoe sale on the sidewalk a little ways down my street, outside of the daycare that never has children. Dozens of pairs of new shoes for $2 each. What do you think, should I score myself some stolen sneaks?

I still have a job, I'm back on Sunday.

I miss Brian already.

Almost There...

2009-05-14T10:31:00.000-07:00

The semester has ended, I have another shift at work, some light packing, and I'm on a plane to DC. This break is greatly anticipated: time to catch up on my reading, see my boyfriend, explore a metropolis, everything I need for a mental health break. One more day.

This made me smile:Pi.

And this made me laugh:

I'm Too Tired To Be Revolutionary

2009-05-10T20:42:00.000-07:00

I got talent and tits, but I ain't got time to use 'em.

Little for me, little for the pot, a bit more for me...

2009-05-06T20:18:00.001-07:00

I just ate two Almond Joys and a Mounds bar. I loves me some coconut, especially when I'm drunk and on the rag (That's correct! Dance Party!).

I got to do just what I wanted this afternoon, bike ride, cooking with Caroline, and a silly movie. We made the most magic soup ever. Garlic, onion, fennel, white beans, ground turkey which I bought months ago and froze, celery, a tomato, and some stock. As an afterthought, we tossed in 'whole' wheat pasta and Kale. I remembered to salt after adding a new ingredient to the pot, to avoid repeating the egg-drop soup disaster. Next time, I'm going to throw carrots and some green beans in there too. It would be just as good without the meat, the turkey kind of disintegrated and so did the tomato. I used chicken stock, but I don't see why veg stock or water couldn't work just as nicely.

It feels so good to finish with my creative writing class. It did nothing to improve my writing. But, I have a fiction-writing class in the fall that I have high hopes for.

Bittman has a recipe for Breakfast couscous to fulfill all your couscous dreams.

I was told it was going to rain all day so I took the bus. It took 45 minutes to get home from school. And it was sunny all day.

Flipped through a book of foreign movie posters, loved it. Gilda was described as La Vedette Atomique. I think I should tart calling myself that.

?

2009-04-30T23:22:00.000-07:00

There are people in this world that don't like Fargo?? I'm not saying it's my favorite movie, but it's got everything a good movie needs: love, hate, accents, Steve Buscemi, hilarity, woodchippers.

Body Image

2009-04-27T18:46:00.000-07:00

I work with a few girls of the younger set, who are just about to graduate from high school. I like working with Lin and Samantha, they're fun and silly, and very nice. I don't usually think of them as younger than me. They are, in general, very mature people.

Sometimes they make comments about themselves that I remember making when I was 17/18; comments about how they hate their bodies, how they need to lose weight, how their life would be so much better if they had nice skin or bigger boobs (actually, that was the opposite in my case. I always wished my tits were significantly smaller). I remember how much I hated my looks, and how much of my identity was tied up in it.

I started wondering: when did this change? When did I stop worrying about my body? and Why?

Frankly, I was a little disturbed that I couldn't pinpoint that moment.

Often, the media gets blamed for young women's poor body image. Next time your at the doctor's office, or at your nieghbor's apartment, flip through that copy of People. They spend a ridiculous amount of ink and paper criticising the bodies of famous women and men. But let's not put the blame squarely on the media, there's more to the equation than just the scapegoat.

I remember telling my mom how I hated my looks, and I remember her telling me how people called her "Twiggy" and made fun of her small breasts. It never made me feel any better about myself, how could she understand when I had the exact opposite problem? I took no comfort in my mother's words because I think I wanted to believe I was ugly.

I went through a phase in middle school where I wore the ugliest clothes I could find, to make myself the pinnicle of hidiousness. All or nothing, I said. I hated my nose, my weight, my breasts, my skin.

We're told: love yourself! We're never told how. People start talking about masturbation and how healthy it is for you. Now, the women I've talked to, they didn't have an orgasm for years. Some weren't even sure that they had a clit. It's unimaginably frustrating to be told how amazing you're supposed to feel, and not feel that. You start to think that you're not normal. And no one comes along to tell you that everything's fine. Then sex gets thrown in the mix. It's so awkward, you're so shy. It's nerve-wracking.

Anybody got a story to share?

I Can't!

2009-04-19T21:09:00.000-07:00

No more Dante! Please! I have to go back and revise a paper, and that means looking at Inferno once again. I can't take it anymore, no more guelphs and ghibellines, no more contrapasso, no more Beatrice and Virgil! I'll take the damn C on the paper, just don't make me look at this stuff anymore, PLEASE.

Cloudy Days

2009-04-19T10:28:00.000-07:00

Feeling a little down, so I'm reading the Fart Party. Julia's boozing ways always make me crack a smile, except when I go back and read the Oliver comics. They make me wish my boyfriend was around to be a nerd with. 5 more days.

I'm so glad I live with Romina, she's probably the most adorable roommate ever. She loves to wash dishes! I would never have known Milwaukee has a salsa club if it wasn't for her. I'm terrible at it, but usually the dance partner is ok being patient, and helps me along. I find I enjoy the music too. I'm frustrated sticking to the salsa step; I want to dance how I want to! I'm starting to hear the diffference between Latin American accents. Romina's Argentinian spanish sounds like a lyrical, bouncy italian. There's lots of 'zh' sounds that replace the normal 'y' sound. She says the word extrano often, which apparantly means strange. I hope she isn't talking about me.

Oh man, I totally want empanadas now. Can't get those on the eastside, unfortunately. The one cuisine that we don't have on Brady street.

I had some vrai the maroc the other night. Our couchsurfer was from Casablanca, and carried his own tea kettle with him. We took him to Casablanca the restaurant, there was much menu confusion. It is Morrocan owned, but covers the whole of middle eastern cuisine. We discussed camels at great length. They, according to Farid, make great eating.

I refer you to...

2009-04-09T13:32:00.000-07:00

the inimitable Stephen Fry, and his unique perspective on language. His impressive podcast on language can be found here.

Here is the sketch he references, which Bardiac first introduced to me two years ago.

Macromantics Love

2009-04-07T21:52:00.000-07:00

Is it awful or is it brilliant? I say brilliant.

Washington

2009-04-04T10:27:00.000-07:00

Spent last weekend with my boyfriend.

The rockstar of boyfriends.

Losing Friends

2009-03-30T22:18:00.000-07:00

The only friend I have made in Milwaukee is currently packing his possessions in an anticipated move to Brussels, and it really sucks.

Living in a city so large, finding people to hang out with is vicious difficult. It's impossible to meet someone who's an intellectual match, who you can talk about music and literature with without sounding like pretentious assholes who're just listing names for the sake of listing names, who appeciates good beer, and you feel comfortable hanging out and being lamepants with. I haven't found many friends through the University, or through MKE's massive bar scene. I got lucky finding friends living right across the hall from me in my new building.

I hate to sacrifice good conversation, I like to extract as much pleasure(wow, that sounds dirty) from the people I find interesting, to make the best of them. I feel that I didn't get enough time to chill with Adien and his cousin Dutch. I feel like there are so many facsinating people that I didn't give enough of my time to.

Find Salvation Elsewhere

2009-03-25T18:14:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like some men treat me as if I'm their salvation, like I lead to some new path, or I can solve their creative problems. If you want me to be a fucking muse, I charge $10 bucks an hour laddies. I'm not here to solve anyone's problems, and putting me up on a pedestal is not going to get you into my pants. I'm having problems keeping my life from shaking apart, and I don't have time to play consultant. The only life I'm looking to change is mine.

What Is This?

2009-03-12T22:38:00.000-07:00

What is this? I feel... like I miss Eau Claire.

For the majority of the time I was living there I was completely miserable. But some memories grow sweet in my mind, like crossing the deadly Clairemont Ave for cigarettes or an alcohol run with Pete. Stopping in Murray Hall to hang out with Sean and Dylan. Taking Nico, the cutest dog in the world, for walks through Carson Park. Hanging out with Erin at midnight eating Jello and talking about nothing. Criticizing architecture with Jess. The way my room smelled. Sitting on the stoop with cheap wine. Ordering delivery from the Chinese place three blocks away. New Amsterdam Gin. Morning shows at SRI with AJ.

I wonder if in a year, my memories of Milwaukee will be half as precious.

Mistake

2009-03-12T21:39:00.000-07:00

I lent an ex-junkie money tonight. I hope he was telling me the truth, but part of me jsut knows he's going to buy some more alcohol. I am such a pushover.

Spotted on Route 30!!

2009-03-09T16:14:00.000-07:00

I just sat next to Dr. Who on the bus!

Ain't it a bummer when you forget where you parked the TARDIS?

Full Fat Forever!!

2009-03-05T19:24:00.000-08:00

So, you know what crazy invention they've got out now? Light Butter. It's butter- but somehow 'light'. It's not like margarine or Can't Believe It's Not Lard, true.

Want to know what the second ingredient is?

WATER.

Holy Crap! I'm picturing a massive grease explosion the minute this shit hits a hot pan. Then comes the list of the things that go into the Modified Food Starch that keeps it shape. Who else is freaked by the phrase "Modified Food Starch"? It doesn't even hint at what it's made from. If it's not corn or soy-- what else is it? Most of the American diet is corn, definitely pick up a copy of the Omnivore's Dilemma.

Frankly, I'm not touching this stuff. My roommate can eat as much as she likes, I'm sticking with my full fat butter. It tastes fantastic, and the ingredient list is only two (or three, depending on the brand) items long. She also drinks skim milk, which tastes like water to me. I prefer whole milk or two percent, and organic. It just tastes better, with your cereal, your coffee, in your baked goods.

Give me a good stout, and keep that Miller Lite far far away. A coffee stout if you've got it. Regular, not decaf.

What are the benefits of replacing the things you really enjoy eating with substitutes that you don't really care for? The Fat fills you up, which makes you eats less, unlike the replacement stuff that leave you hungry for more.

2009-02-28T10:55:00.000-08:00

Now, I usually try to steer away from writing about my "personal life," to respect people's privacy and because I think it makes poor reading. But there's something that's been a persistant presence in the back of my mind that I think I would feel better about if I wrote about it. So bear with the emo-ness.

Now, I have this amazing guy in my life, who's funny, charming, kind, great in bed-- pretty much everything I want in a partner. He's starting a new job at the Center for American Progress on Monday, what he calls an "adult job".

What does this phrase mean: adult job? Is the measure of our Adultness how we make our money? Will I never be an adult because I can never get a job in my field that measures up to this standard? My mother works four different jobs, none of them that could be considered in the world to be professional. Is she not an adult? Will I not measure up to his standard anymore once he starts this job? Will the economic gap be to great to overcome? Everyone knows I have class issues, and this will probably be more of a problem for me than it will for him, that's something I'll deal with in time.

But, what if I don't fit in with this new paradigm? Will the fact that I'm still in school and working for minimum wage pose a problem?

2009-02-24T23:02:00.000-08:00

It is godawful lonely to not have anyone to celebrate your birthday with. Lila flew back to England tonight, and the friends who were coming to Milwaukee to be with me cancelled. And, since I'm not speaking to the people I used to live with, that leaves... me.

L and L reunite!

2009-02-22T11:55:00.001-08:00

My best friend in the whole wide world is in the States!!

He gets me.

2009-02-14T07:05:00.000-08:00

Humboldt Heaven

2009-02-13T13:26:00.000-08:00

Last week Friday, I had decided to get the fuck out of the Humboldt Hellhole. I was sick of getting the silent treatment from two thirds of my rommates, having to deal with their obnoxious friends, their wasteful habits, and general bitchiness. I knew that the apartment across the way was still empty, so I called my landlord to see if I could snag it. He, as usual, did not answer. I then scoured the internets for something decently priced to no avail.

I spent my weekend at my parents', before the landlord called me back and told me that he had given away the flat on Friday. Alas! I was naturally upset. But I continued to look.

Lo, Tuesday came around, the day of the most wonderful heat wave, when the landlord calls me to say that the fellow he gave the place away to flaked, and it was mine! Mine!

I put up a post on craigslist for a roommie and found someone right away, a cute Argentinian girl named Romi who was also trying to escape a bad situation. I showed her the place, and she filled out an application. And tomorrow, she moves in.

Everything seems to be working out, I'm sure this means something terrible is on its way.

Financial woes

2009-02-04T23:16:00.000-08:00

I'm losing my health insurance at the end of the month, time to shop around and see what the school or the state can offer me.

I'm moving out of the Humboldt Hellhole, but I can't find many places within my price range (200-275).

The heat bill came to day: about $550, and for most of the billing period we didn't even have heat.

Can't afford my school books, I go into the bookstore, read what I need to, then leave.

Good news: got to chill with some couchsurfers tonight. For free.

Lady Saw: Nah Mix Nah Mingle

2009-01-30T20:34:00.000-08:00

I can't get enough of this song. Long live Dancehall!

2009-01-27T20:25:00.001-08:00

Woke up, got out of bed,
Dragged a comb across my head.
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
And looking up, i noticed i was late
Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat
Found my way upstairs and had a smoke
Somebody spoke and i went into a dream

School's a-started again. I feel that my favorite classes will be Dante(hooray, medievalist prof!), and French.
Leaky roof is fixed, but now the heater is broke. Any colder the pipes will freeze and the birds will die. Book prices are killing me. I'm going to try to get them one at a time, when I can afford them, and use dailylit.com in the mean time.

Boyfriend came and left, now moving from Seattle to DC. I liked Seattle better, but what can you do? Maybe DC isn't as bad as I remember.

Classes are messing up my Monday morning ritual of the bank and library. Guess I just have to get up earlier now. Less time spent with my roommates the better. I hope I make some friends soon.

Howdy

2009-01-16T15:42:00.000-08:00

Sitting on the couch. Stealing internet. Drinking sissy beer.

Minus 25 degrees with wind chill. Which is about minus 29 for all you Canucks reading this.

Too cold to walk to the library. Need more books.

Avoiding looking at the UWM homepage. Too afraid of seeing how little aid I get.

Boyfriend arrives in Milwaukee tomorrow. Yay, sex!

Beatnik Hamlet

2009-01-12T23:45:00.001-08:00

Shel Silverstein's version of Hamlet!

Errand Day

2009-01-12T23:01:00.000-08:00

I love running errands. They're so therapeutic. Walking to the bank and then across the street to the library. I took the long way home, walking to the water tower, gawking at the gorgeous old mansions. I remembered a place that I saw as a kid, a window with an art display in it. My dad would always scoff when we past it, because he knew the guy and thought he was a prick. I found the building, but the display was gone. The man probably was priced out of the nieghborhood. We're all in danger of getting priced out, or our apartments being razed to make room for condos.

There's something so sad and intimate about laundramats. This is where you bring each piece of soiled clothing, bearing a story of what you did when you wore it: the chocolate stain from when you shared a candybar with your little sister, the shirt you wore when you first made out with your boyfriend, the unmentionables that were softly caressed then ripped aside. The memories go through your mind as you toss them into the machine, knowing that everyone else is washing away their garments' stories too. This laudramat has wood panelling, a fortress wall of not quite salmon, not quite orange dryers. The clothes hypnotically spin about, the colors getting brighter as they dry.

The snow is blowing, making it difficult to schlepp the laundry back and forth from my apartment. It is as light out at night as it was during the day.

2009-01-02T21:21:00.001-08:00

I am a lonely woman. Milwaukee is a lonely place.

Are you ready for a disaster?

2008-12-31T13:50:00.000-08:00

I am! Let the New Year's Eve festivities commence!

Damage Control

2008-12-28T10:34:00.000-08:00

For the last two days, I have been trying to keep the situation managable around here. We had a freak heat wave, about 50 degrees, which brought a thunderstorm and flooding. The rain had dripped in, down into Caroline's closet, through the floor and onto my bed. I'm still airing the bed out.

We purchased a kitchen table yesterday, and chairs. The legs of the table wobble, and one of the chairs is actually a lawn chair, but you can't argue with the price. We had it delivered, and were told the delivery was free. After everything was moved in, we were informed that we had to pay 15 dollars which we didn't have.

We waited for him to pull away, just in case he decided to slash Caroline's tires.

This morning we found Roommate #3 passed out on the bathroom floor, after two solid days of drinking. She was so dehydrated, she could not stand. We took her to Urgent Care as soon as they opened. She decided it would be a good idea to lie to the doctors, and told them she had only had five drinks total.

"So we're playing pretend, are we?" her best friend said when he arrived, "This is what happens when you drink tequila."

I'm sick of damage control. Imagine what our lives could be like if we didn't always pick up the pieces? How much we could get done?

This Is a Bad Joke

2008-12-11T09:45:00.000-08:00

I have been living in Milwaukee for a month or so now, scouring the city and the internet for a job. I finally got an interview, my first one, at the local PicknSave for a cashier job. I got up early this morning so I could get ready and still have plenty of time to walk down to the store, and to tell the truth, I looked totally hireable. But when I arrived, I was told that the woman I was suppose to interview with wouldn't even be in until noon(!) and the woman who scheduled the interview was AWOL for the day. Why do they keep jerking me around like this?

Roommates

2008-12-02T14:26:00.000-08:00

I have come to realize just how much I LOVED living with my old roommates, and how desperately I miss them. I miss waking up and having Amber pop up out of nowhere to say hi and giving me a hug. Lucy was never that affectionate, she hates talking in the morning, but she always made enough coffee for me. Then I would put on reggae music, and Erin would poke her head out.

Midwest Slacker: Ghostbuster

2008-12-01T12:15:00.000-08:00

I moved to the East Side of Milwaukee about a month ago. I didn't look at the apartment before agreeing to move in -- I was in Savannah at the time. I didn't expect much, houses in this area were built in the 1870's, and in general are falling apart. This one is in pretty good condition, considering. But there was one problem we never anticipated-- a spirit problem.

No one has ever been able to prove the existence of ghosts, despite legions of psychics and scientists working to prove the existence or nonexistence of ghosts. Some think they are the restless dead, my own theory was that ghosts were strong memories imprinted on a place. I grew up next to a cemetery, and the house I grew up in was built as the parsonage for the church. We had ghosts, but I liked having them around. Our ghosts were a german family, a very comforting presence. I cannot see ghosts, I only feel them.

The ghosts at my new apartment are not comforting. There's one that lives in the upstairs, a man that I hear walking around at night. When my roommate Caroline was moving in, she was hit by vertigo. She figured she just needed to eat, so she did. The Vertigo did not stop. That night, she slept at her old place.

She called the old tenants the next day, Mike and Dawn, and asked if there was a ghost. They confirmed it.

Caroline brokered a deal with the ghost: She didn't want to se him, feel him, or hear him. All conditions have been broken. I still hear the footsteps, Caroline's seen him glaring at her, Ashley's bed, a mattress that sits on the floor, was punched from below repeatedly.

We decided to get help. We went to an occult shop on Murray Ave, and consulted the owner. She hooked us up with a number of protective herbs (before you think she was just trying to make a buck off of us, she gave us a good number of things for free), and her friend offered to come by to check out the problem.

Nancy is a short woman in her twenties, with dark curly hair and nothing occult about her. She wore no amulets, no otherworldly voice, just a normal looking girl. We started in the basement.

All basements are creepy. Ours is extremely creepy. As soon as you descend the stairs, your heart starts to race and your body tells you to run. It looks the same as any other basement: it has a cement floor, a furnace, and a root cellar. Immediately she told us that she felt three distinct presences. Nancy zeroed in on the root cellar.

"Is anyone there?"
"What do you want?"
"Can you hear me?"

She recieved no reply. Something about the root cellar was filling us with fear, and a feeling of being pushed away. Nancy said she heard heavy breathing in front of her. She turned to take more photos of the basement. I felt something behind me, and I grabbed Caroline's hand and strated to move to the door. She stopped me and turned around.

Now, as I said, I cannot see ghosts. But Caroline can. She saw it move from one corner of the basement to the other, and up towars the furnace. Nancy and Ashley confirmed it's movement, and also that it was wearing a noose. The Hollywood version of a glowing spirit is wrong. It's dark, dark smoke.

2008-12-01T08:12:00.000-08:00

UWM is screwing me over! According to them, I don't fulfill their foreign language requirement because the classes I took before count as upperlevel humanities, and will not be included for FL credits. I am going in and arguing this, this must be a mistake. Where are my English competency credits? Why have my AP credits not shown up?

T-day

2008-11-26T17:17:00.000-08:00

Usually, my mom's side of the family gets together for Thanksgiving at my grandparent's house. My mom is one of seven, six of whom are still living. My uncle Steve is unmarried, he lives in a group home with other people with mental handicaps. He was probably hit the hardest by Grandpa's death. He doesn't conceptualize death well. My uncle Roger is a cabdriver in Reno, he never shows up. My Aunt Mary and Uncle Casey live in Baton Rouge, they ony show up for Christmas. The rest of my family is based in Racine, so it's easy to get together for the obligatory holiday meal.

Only this year, my dad is in Oshkosh for a retreat, my mom works all day, and I'm staying in Milwaukee.

My friend Ellen from high school, who happens to live in Milwaukee, invited me over for a vegetarian meal this afternoon. Tofurkey is not that bad, but it doesn't taste anything like turkey. She sent my back with enough leftovers to last a week. Thank you, Ellen!

The first real snow occured Monday morning. Could winter depress me any more? I am certain I have Seasonal Affective Disorder. Even if I could get myself a prescription for it, I know I couldn't afford it. I've heard light therapy works, but how do you go about getting it? My room has one window, and that faces a wall. I just need some natural light so I can wake up. Otherwise, I can't get up until noon.

I got some strange flashbacks in Seattle, of past winter memories. The day Lucy came back from the salon with a bottle of cheap champagne and a bowl of fruit, and she, Anne, and I consumed the icy sweets while we watched the snowstorm.

Or when I would blow off class to go over to Lila's for tea, and she would have fresh cookies and bread ready for me.

Samson pulled down the pillars of our hearts

2008-11-11T11:16:00.000-08:00

It's pretty obvious that he was a housecat: he's well-fed, friendly, and clean. We're putting up posters today, but I kind of don't want to find the proper owner. He turned up on our doorstep last night, expecting to be let in like he'd lived there before. He's cute, but in a cunning way. He's an otherworldly kind of guy. I hope he doesn't kill Ingrid and Felipe, the budgies.

Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal

2008-11-06T14:54:00.000-08:00

2008-11-05T19:24:00.000-08:00

Greetings from Milwaukee! Last night, I moved in to my new apartment. It's an amazing location, just a few blocks from Brady St. The house is typical of Milwaukee: small rooms, a shortage of outlets, closets that make you wonder what they were thinking when they put them in. The floors slant, just like my old place, but to a less severe degree.

There is a small backyard that seems to harbor a gang of squirrels. A gang of squirrels that get into the walls and chase each other around. The effect is quite creepy. So creepy, in fact, that my roommate Caroline brought a priest in to bless the house.

I've been here for about 24 hours, and I think I could grow to love living here.

2008-10-31T23:19:00.000-07:00

Whoa. Guess I'll be visiting another coast within a span of a month.

Wisconsin

2008-10-29T08:41:00.000-07:00

Home has not changed a bit. Everything is still ashambles, there's still a gigantic hole in the kitchen ceiling, and there's cat and dog hair everywhere.

I'm in the process of gathering up stuff to haul to Milwaukeee today.

Waking up in the morning to a new text from the guy I like is really nice. I wish he lived closer to the MKE. I haven't been this smiley about someone in a very long time. It's quite gratifying.

Listening to music is such a relief. I've missed it so much. There's already a concert for me to attend: Tom Morello, the guitarist from Rage. His solo album is bluesy americana, very Warren Zevon-like.

I get to cook!

I can't wait to see Adam tonight, I've missed that bastard too much.

I am putting aside 20 dollars a week for my travel fund. I want to visit Lila in Oxford and pay a visit to Seattle. I need to find a new job first.

Hilarity

2008-10-28T19:36:00.000-07:00

Hilarity= 6 buzzed people trying to communicate without a common language.

The Journey thus far...

2008-10-16T07:06:00.000-07:00

Google has just decided that my account actually exists, so I'm back to blogging. I'm in New York currently, delaying leaving the apartment because my feet hurt so terribly from my shoes. I'm going to buy the cheapest pair I can today, then throw my old pair a little funeral in Central Park. My money is dwindling fast, I have less than $250 now, and twelve more days of travel left. What's killed my budget the most are the absurdly high ATM surcharges, and Tennessee's and New York's sales tax.

I am officially moving to Milwaukee as soon as I return, to a fabulous place on the East Side with some friends. I can't get over how low the rent is. Trust me, it's cheaper than yours. I'll have to find a new job, unfortunately. Maybe I'll end up with something decent this time, like at a bookstore.

Most helpful items I've brought with:
Cigarettes- I don't give money out to people, but I will give them a cigarette.
Baby wipes- Oh man, if I didn't have these, I'd be in a sorry state. Also useful when dried out as a reusable, yet disposable tissue.
Amtrak Rail pass- this has saved me hundreds of dollars.
Sarong- doubles as a scarf, blanket, towel, and a skirt.

Favorite cities so far: Memphis, Knoxville, Asheville, Charleston, and NYC.

Best way to travel: Megabus. Cheap, on time, and clean. Amtrak is never on time. NEVER.

Favorite Coffee shop: Java Cabana in Memphis, TN. It feels like you're hanging out in someone's kitchen, and everyone who walks in is your friend.

Best place for brekkers: Jack's Cafe in Charleston, SC. Good, tasty, and cheap. Incredibly friendly employees.

Prettiest: Savannah, GA. American Gothic at it's best.

Most likely to get hit by a car in: Savannah, GA. Cars fly by at 40 mph or faster down narrow streets.

Most likely to get hit by a bicycle in: NYC. They will NOT stop for you.

Best beer selection: Mellow Mushroom, which is found through out the south. 300+ varieties of beer.

Best vegan food: Rosetta's Kitchen in Asheville, NC.

Best Seafood: Charleston, SC.

Keep in mind, I still have two cities to go!

In Other News

2008-09-09T12:18:00.001-07:00

My friend Ruth's little sister was at the RNC protests. Read the article about the violence there.

Go South, Young Slacker, Go South!

2008-09-09T10:41:00.000-07:00

I’ll be honest, when I decided to travel the south was not my first choice. The American South, for me, brings up images of rednecks with shotguns, people who walk and talk slow, and mounds of fried food. Aside from the fried food, nothing really appealing there. But then I got thinking, What if I’m wrong? What if there is an amazing adventure to be had and I’m just turning my back on it? And lo, a ticket to Memphis was bought.

The ticket price was also a big factor. You can’t beat $8.50.

As I travel to this unknown land, I’ll do my damnedest to keep y’all(Oh no! I’ve gone native!) updated.

I’m traveling with the same backpack I used for my senior year of high school. It’s real small, by globetrotting standards. Let’s hope it doesn’t let me down!

After I cleaned the cat hair off of it, I stuffed it with, 1 t-shirt, 1 longsleeve shirt, 1 buttondown, 1 pair of shorts, 1 pair of jeans, 2 bras, 5 pairs of underwear, a zip-up hoodie, a tanktop, 3 pairs of socks, bandana, and a sarong. Already, the pack is stuffed. I become worried. I add shampoo, sunblock, toothpaste and toothbrush, lighter, a razor, eyedrops and foundation. The pack swells. I add a book, and a notebook, plus pens. My phone and charger are squeezed in. I add tweezers, nail clippers, pocket knife, deodorant, and pain and allergy pills. A little strained, sure. But it seems to be holding. I’ve sewed a strap to the bag to clip my pink plastic cup on.

I want to bring a gift for my host, something Wisconsin-y. I decide cheese won't hold up too well, and burn a Fever Marlene CD instead.

I know this doesn't seem to be a lot of clothes. But as they say, change cities rather than clothes.

I’ve got a little purse for extras, too. Space-wise, I think I’ve done it. Hurrah!

Total Pack Weight: 10.5 lbs.

Total $ left: 1,073. That's $18 a day, including food and transportation.

2008-09-05T10:28:00.000-07:00

Memphis and Nashville hosts are all set. Abby's like the Memphis version of Amber. Franchesa and Brad seem amazingly cool.

2008-09-01T23:41:00.000-07:00

I leave for Memphis in a week. I'm getting really concerned about funds. My budget allows for $10 dollars a day, including food and travel costs. This is really daunting. I know people who have taken off for over a year with only twenty dollars in their pocket and been fine. But I'm seriously doubting my survival skills.

2008-08-27T21:35:00.000-07:00

Destruction is not the point. The point is to make people think carefully about what is going around them, how they've been reacting to events around them.

I think it was Tom Robbins who wrote "the root of all depression is self-pity. Self-pity is caused by the inability to laugh at onesself."

Had a dream about Tennessee about a week ago. I was on a train, gliding slowly through a bog of long, brown dead prarie grass. From every tree hung multiple dead men. Took the train to a clear lake, where a man leaned down and whispered to a duckling, "Go faster." It sped off, and more and more ducklings, fowl, birds of all sorts took off to fly into the stars.

I was sleeping on someone else's couch. Do you have another's dreams on their sleep surface?

Got a flashback of all this while I was watching Brazil with Mav. Just sitting there, awkwardly, with the sound off.

Yeah, I Kicked that Waterfall's Ass

2008-08-26T23:14:00.000-07:00

2008-08-20T23:31:00.000-07:00

I'm frustrated with the news.
Everybody's saying what happened, but no one is telling me why. I want better reporting. I want to know why things happen in the world, not just the what and the how. Is that too much to ask?

2008-08-17T21:31:00.000-07:00

Strappin' on ma travlin' shoes,
gon go down sout'
gonna quit ma job,
'cuz I'm goin' out.

Midwest Slacker: Urban Squirrel Hunting

2008-08-11T22:08:00.000-07:00

That is how I spent my afternoon. I was visiting friends in Milwaukee, just hanging out outside, when the neighbor kid comes up to show us his squirrel protecting hat. We begin to laugh, until we see his dad wearing leather gloves and setting up an Elmer Fudd type trap.

Let me tell you how to trap a squirrel. On top of a staircase or a surface with a ledge, constuct an Elmer Fudd box trap, making sure the top is weighted, with additional weight towards the front of the trap. Prop up withstick and string. Place Cheez-its underneath the trap, and garbage still in the bag next to it. The garbage is for the enticing smell and also for the crinkling sound that is attractive to squirrels. On the steps, spread around corn or seeds, often sold as "Critter Feed." This is best done as a multiple person operation, strategically placing your friends around so that squirrels to be spotted easily.

As our wily foe, the common squirrel, begins to nosh upon the corn, crinkle the garbage bag. They will then notice the Cheez-its and go to town on them. Tug the string, and you have a squirrel!

Exracting the critter is the difficult bit. You must set up a second box on the next step down with a rodent-sized hole cut into the top, and also a second, smaller slit. This second one is important because the squirrel will not escape to somewhere without daylight. Nudge the first trap so the corner covers the second one's hole. Throw a towel over the box, and try to hold onto the little bastard, around the neck if you can. They have sharp teeth and claws and can easily slip away. Take a picture, then let the poor guy go.

Also recommended: Gopher fishing.

The Meaning of Life...Is Clyde

2008-08-04T16:41:00.000-07:00

Yes, the meaning of life is a dude from Yellowknife named Clyde. I was informed of this last Saturday night at a CS party. I also learned pronounce Australia correctly, the proper way to prepare Vegemite, and the glories of cherries and capuccino foam.

I spent four of the most amazing, exciting, relaxing days in Chicago and am quite heartbroken to be back home, though I do appreciate breathing clean air out here. It has only made me more anxious to travel and see the world. I met so many cool people, Americans, Canadians, Italians, Germans, Frenchies, and Australians.

I'll write a full review soon, but after a smidge of sleep.

Guess He Pulled a Fast One on Us

2008-07-27T23:18:00.000-07:00

I didn't recognize Grandpa when I saw him. He was missing his glasses. He was chalk-pale, and his mouth was gaping open. I couldn't help but thinking of what a death-rattle sounded like. There was a girl in my high school English class who worked at a nursing home. Every so often she would come into class and announce "another one died on me last night" and tell us how it happened, how it sounded.

Nana was sitting next to the bed, the hospital bed that we had spent all yesterday waiting around for. She was sitting on the little commode, holding her husband's hand. First thing she said when we came in was "Guess he pulled a fast one on us," and gave a little dentured smile.

My aunts and a few cousins were there, as was the local priest. Low murmur, mostly just asking if the other was okay.

My mom and I had left straight from work, didn't clock out or anything. Mom noticed the seven missed calls on her phone, and began to cry. She's been going back and forth to Racine daily, helping out with little things. The doctor said two to four months. That was seven days ago.

The house is filled with knick-knacks. Tiles along the edges of the ceiling, one from every place they've been. Statuettes on every surface. There are little wooden tulips along the windowsill above the kitchen sink. Grandpa made all sorts of little decorations. Pumpkins and ghosts for fall, Santas and snowmen for winter. He always made wooden toys every Christmas for the Toys for Tots drive. The kitchen light is too bright, severe. But the bulbs were on special at the Piggly Wiggly, so there they'll stay. Grandpa's medications are all on the table. All new and unopened. The nurse opens them up and tosses the pastel pills in with the trash. I think,"Can't we give them back to the pharmacy, or the hospital? Donate them to a clinic that needs them? There are too many clinics in the world with out any meds at all." I watch as she empties the morphine. I consider how much I could have made selling it.

They talk too loud, the nurses. They speak to Nana as if she's dumb as well as deaf. She knows what's up, no need to shout. They rub her back, tell her to calm down. She is calm, and cringes a little when they touch her. She doesn't like strangers touching her. Kelly, my cousin, notices this.

Natalie tells me her sister Tracy is coming from Arizona with her newborn daughter. She had wanted Grandpa to meet his great-granddaughter.

The men from the Funeral home arrive. They move Grandpa onto a stretcher, and zip up the body bag. I wonder if they'll give the floral sheets back.

There was a rubber mask that Grandpa would wear and chase us around with. Gallows humor sneaks up on me, and I imagine him wearing that thing in his coffin. One last joke for us.

2008-07-26T14:00:00.000-07:00

Every so often you discover something new about a song.

I realized that "Via Chicago" is not talking about the city. It's talking about a bus route that goes via Chicago St.

Brotherhood of the Beetle

2008-07-20T23:19:00.000-07:00

When clinging to the roof of your best friend's car, playing on playground equipment clearly marked 'Unsafe,' and jumping around a skateboard park sans skateboard, one may think: "I'm too old for this. Shit, no, I'm to smart for this." This line of thought is entirely pointless, because your next thought always is: "Damn, this is fun!"

sonofabitch!

2008-07-17T23:19:00.000-07:00

I always make elaborate plans for travel, save up enough money to actually carry out my plans, and something always stops me last minute. This time I had thought I was actually going to make it.

Oh how wrong I was. Looks like I will be staying in Wisconsin for the rest of my life, because there doesn't seem to be any way out.

I have been dreaming of travelling for so long. It's been the only thing on my mind since I was fourteen. Being somewhere entirely new, exciting, strange and foreign. I had made plans to travel to New Orleans in September. I had it all ready to be set in motion.

My family will never forgive me if I am out of state when grandpa dies. I realize how selfish I am by wanting to continue with my plans.

I can't just leave, not when my family needs me. But right now, it's a waiting game. If I leave, family obligation will weigh on me, I will have to be able to return to Wisconsin at a moment's notice, costing more money than I even have. If I don't leave, I will regret taking my chance. I will regret being selfish, I will regret not being selfish.

The last time, I halted all my plans for Europe, that was three years ago. The doctors were wrong then, why can't they be wrong now?

2008-07-07T23:41:00.000-07:00

Today was my first day off from the Pub in quite some time, and I spent my whole day sleeping and watching Dr. Who. It was fantastic.

Dolores, my rusty lusty Camry, has been acting sluggish lately. I attribute this to my little sister's poor driving skills, which fill me with fear. Becca is an awful driver and has her test in six days. I really hope she doesn't pass.

I didn't pass my first test. I cut somebody off, which is an automatic fail, but the woman made me continue with the entire test. I don't see why she had to get my hopes up.

Adam didn't even start driving until he'd graduated from High School. His car is named Gene Raymond, as mine is named after Dolores del Rio. They starred in Flying Down to Rio together. We're nerds.

Come to think of it, Adam hasn't made a payment on his car since November. The dealership brought up a lawsuit against him, but it was dismissed. I guess that means the car's free, at least until it gets repoed.

He sells fence parts now. The Wal-mart job sucked, but I liked all the stolen merchandise he gave me. Didn't even get fired for stealing, he was fired for being late all the time.

Lucy visits this weekend. I'm planning trips to Milwaukee, and Old World Wisconsin.

Friday, I'm touring the UWM campus to see if I'd want to transfer there. I hope I like it. If anything, I'm afraid the classwork will be way too easy for me. I don't like getting bored. I'm excited to move to a city that I like, though.

All the Dirt

2008-07-06T22:37:00.000-07:00

Little tip for you, guys: Don't bring your wife and your mistress to the same restaurant, especially in the same day.

If you ever want to know if you're being cheated on, go to your usual restaurant and ask your waitress. We got more dirt on you than you've ever dreamed possible.

Lazy Liz

2008-07-06T00:48:00.000-07:00

Because I'm feeling lazy, and just a little burnt-out from working non-stop at the pub, I'm entertaining myself with a meme.

Accent: I have a slight Chicago accent, very nasally O's. But, I also have picked up a Northern accent from living in EC with a bunch of Minnesotans. I say Bubbler, and it will never change.

Booze: Gin and tonics, Whiskey, White Russians, Sangria.

Chore I Hate: The dishes. Old school--by hand.

Dog or Cat: Cat. I was terrified of dogs when I was younger, and it takes me a while to get used to one.

Essential Electronics: My lovely laptop.

Favorite Cologne(s): I hate cologne. Just smell clean, ok, guys?

Gold or Silver: Silver

Hometown: Small, dull, nice. We have a trolley.

Insomnia: Used to. I've been getting a good amount of nappy-bye lately.

Job Title: hostess. Stupid Pub. My real occupation is non-practicing artist.

Kids: Not in the cards

Living arrangements: Now: Parents. Soon: Nomad.

Most admirable trait: I don't really like anything about me. Somehow, I've become the 'reliable' friend.
But when you compare me to Adam, I suppose I am.

Number of sexual partners: Can count on one hand.

Overnight hospital stays: I think I've only been in a hospital once, and I was being born.

Phobias: Wiggly things.

Quote: "Happy as a bucketful of ducklings."- Lila. Oh, did you want one of mine?

Religion: Raised catholic and buddhist. Don't claim either.

Siblings: Big Brother, Little Sister

Time I wake up: Around noon. Before you start harping on me about laziness, keep in mind that I am nocturnal.

Unusual talent or skill: I have an amazing memory of completely useless facts, which I employ to solve crosswords.

Vegetable I refuse to eat: Peas, Corn.

Worst habit: muttering.

X-rays: Broke my finger once.

Yummy foods I make: Bread, stir-frys, Tabouleh.

Zodiac sign: "I'm a Pisces fish, and the river runs through my soul..." I share a birthday with George Harrison.

I Know a Secret

2008-07-02T21:27:00.000-07:00

I have figured out why the Pub's pizza sauce tastes so different than any other sauce: it's curry...

Midwest Slacker: The Kingdom of Talossa

2008-06-30T00:37:00.000-07:00

The Kingdom of Talossa is a Micronation situated on the East Side of Milwaukee. Yep, a whole 'nother country. The US government has never complained about it, so it can only be assumed that they are a-okay with it.

It was founded, as the story goes, sometime in 1979 by a 13-year-old kid, who declared his bedroom to be his own personal kingdom. Through out the years, Talossa has annexed most of the East Side, and gained about one hundred citizens. It has also laid claim to UWM, renaming it the University of Talossa. This glorious micronation's history is not without strife, however, as some succeded to form the Republic of Talossa.

I'm not kidding.

A letter

2008-06-29T00:10:00.000-07:00

I know better than to open e-mails that look suspicious. But I opened this one, and this is what it said: I'm a sidewalk stain photographer and I'd just like to say that you've captured the essence of my work. Thank you and goodbye.

Umm, you're welcome?

NOT!

2008-06-28T23:57:00.000-07:00

Yeah baby. Nothing is scarier than milling about a men's room in a rural Wisconsin Wal-mart waiting for a little stick to change color.

Midwest Slacker: Urban Legends

2008-06-23T00:26:00.000-07:00

So begins what I hope to be a regular feature here at Perils, Midwest Slacker. I hope to bring attention to the quirky, cool stuff that the midwest has to offer (by Midwest, I mean Wisconsin, Illinois, Minnesota, Michigan, Ohio, and maybe Iowa. Not Indiana though, no one likes Indiana), and elighten people to the esoteric, wierd, and sometimes soul-crushing culture that we live in.

Wisconsin is brimming with urban legends. I live a few miles from the location of the most famous Wisconsin legend: the Best of Bray Road. This started in the 1980's with numerous werewolf sightings, which continue until this day. It's a favorite pasttime of locals to go out to Bray Road on Halloween to try and catch a glimpse of the beast, and a year round good time to just get stoned and scare yourself. It's been glimpsed on Bower's road just outside of East Troy, and it's even inspired a really awful movie! In cryptozoology, there was a creature that in the language of the local Native americans, meant "carrying-off dogs," and was said to be sort of a hyena-wolf breed, and existed throughout the midwest. There have been werewolf reports in Southern Wisconsin as far back as the 1930's. (My dog just howled. Bad timing, dog.)

One legend that I think may have had some truth to it is the legend of Haunchyville. Haunchyville, in Muskego, is supposedly the home of many midgets, well-armed, deadly midgets. Seems silly, right? Take into account P.T. Barnum's circus started here, and WI is home to the Circus World museeum, is it so inconcievable that circus performers might choose to retire to the place where circuses call home?

Alice in Chains Girl

2008-06-20T21:32:00.000-07:00

I've never been much for trends. When I would go get my hair done at the salon that my roommate worked at, the stylists would talk about how bad they felt for me because I didn't care about my appearance. I've been rocking the grunge aesthetic for about 10 years now. When a girl finds a formula that works, why mess with it, right?

Maybe I am a little stuck in the nineties. When it comes to the trinity of grunge, I would like to publicly side with Alice in Chains, but if you like Nirvana or Pearl Jam, that's ok too. But let's take a loving look at the fabulous ladies of the decade:

Kim Deal: One could only hope to be as cool as her. Bassist for Pixies (no the in the title, please!) and founding member of The Breeders, she had style. Layers and layers of sound that obscured her vocals, there was no one else with such... je ne sais quoi.

Kristin Hersh: There is no mistaking her voice, growling, purring, breezing through time signature changes and interesting chords. You may know her from Throwing Muses, 50 FootWave, and her solo projects. This woman is a real superstar, she has four kids and continues to have an amazing creative output.

Kim Gordon: I really can't talk about music from the nineties with out at least touching on the Sonic Youth. They played cheap-ass instruments and they knew it. They mashed screwdrivers and drumsticks under the strings and invented their own tunings, did whatever they could to come up with a sound that was entirely theirs, entirely new. She's has so many side projects, it's hard to keep up. If it wasn't for the Sonic Youth, we wouldn't even have heard the Seattle sound!

D'arcy: another sexy bassist in our lineup: Ms. D'arcy Wretzky. She lent the Smashing Pumpkins an untouchable flair, that, though Melissa Auf Der Maur is an excellent bassist in her own right, the band could never really recapture after she left.

Zia McCabe: With no prior musical experience she joined The Dandy Warhols and taught herself keyboards, and off she went. Props.

Radiowaves to Blogwaves

2008-06-18T11:54:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite artists is also one of my favorite bloggers: the lovely Mike Doughty.

In other news, I am a chicken. I have, once again, backed out of finally reading Titus Alone. The Gormenghast novels are amoung the most important books I read growing up, along with the Narnia books and The Neverending Story. They are books I am so attached to, that the thought of anyone else reading them puts me on the defensive, protecting the stories I will forever think of as mine.

The first two books of the series, Titus Groan and Gormenghast, are the greatest examples of the Modern Gothic (though Lolita comes close). It contains the typical hallmarks of the genre: a moldy castle, a bloodline that needs preserving, a protagonist emotionally orphaned, and an Otranto-esque menace to the rightful heir. But they are so much more than the tradional trappings.

The beauty of the writing is its ability to draw me into the world of Gormenghast, With the first chapter, I can smell the ancient dust, see it plume out with every step of Flay’s feet on the stones. I fell in love with Fucshia, the lonely lost girl, played in her attic labyrinth. I was mesmerized by Titus’ tenth birthday celebration, saw the strange dance of the lion, wolf, horse, and lamb. I grew to love Steerpike, easily the best character present, was glad and sad that he died, angry that he wasn’t any longer the focus of the book, laughed at Irma’s relentless pursuit of a husband, an errant effort that rival’s Panurge’s quest for a wife in it’s comedic appeal. I miss the characters, I miss the silly Doctor, Nannie’s aches and moans. That’s the mark of a good book, I suppose when you miss the caracters after youre done, your friends for so many pages and that you have to part ways with.

I hate to see the characters go, but there is a third book. Titus Alonecontinues with the adventures of Titus outside of Gormenghast castle. Titus is my least favorite character, he's a dull boy. I think it was Anthony Trollope who said that the interest of the story lies with the wicked and foolish people. Oh, how right he is. But that isn't the entire reason for my reluctance to read Titus Alone, I love the world Mervyn Peake made, and by not reading the last book he wrote about it, it can still live in my mind.

Ohhh, Life

2008-06-16T21:49:00.000-07:00

I'm in the wrong business. You see, I have a job that requires me to deal with people, and I HATE people. They're needy and rude. I used to be incredibly shy, and I couldn't talk to people. I hated talking to teachers, I hardly talked to classmates, which meant I got picked on more. Eventually, around the time I started high school, I got over it. Now, I seem to have developed mini panic attacks everytime I have to talk to someone. I go to into the kitchen's walk-in cooler to hide from everyone, even my co-workers. Eventually the cooks come and find me to boot me out of their cooler, and out I go! They're starting to catch on to my hiding habits, I think. I wish I worked in the kitchen, less people, better music. And you would think spending time at home would be better. I hate being home because of the anxiety I have even talking to my family. I can't handle being around people, it's enough to make me adopt the ways of a hermit. I don't know what to do about this, because I can't talk to anyone about my silent panic attacks BECAUSE of my silent panic attacks.

Conversely, I am even lonelier than ever. I don't have many friends here, Lila lives in Racine, Marc and I never hang out if it's just the two of us, and Adam... let's just say I need more responsible friends.

You know the R.E.M. song "Losing my Religion," with Micheal Stipe wailing, "Ohhhh, Life!" Someone I used to work with used to wander around moaning that line. I get it now.

Ohhhh, Life.

Big Sister

2008-06-10T15:11:00.000-07:00

I did not start dating until I turned eighteen, a little later than most, I guess. I've only had one relationship which lasted for the better part of two years when you ad it up, and when it ended it tore me apart, I'm still not comfortable talking about it.
My little sister started dating a year or two ago, which is ok with me, but what worries me is how immature and insecure she is, and it sounds like her new boyfriend is moving a little too fast. I think she should make her own mistakes, but I feel if I don't voice my opinion she might end up getting hurt badly like I did. I don't want to be the one to talk to her about sex, but I would feel better if I at least knew what was going on. Trouble is, we aren't very close and never have been, we're strangers to one another. I don't want to get involved in her emo world, and she doesn't care about my life, which is how I like it. Having a serious talk might tear down some walls, walls I have spent a lot of time building up.

Wisconsin Against 2016 Chicago Olympics!!

2008-06-05T16:12:00.000-07:00

Who cares if it puts the Midwest in the spotlight? It means years of construction and increasing numbers of Chicagoans ruining Wisconsin. It's bad enough that people want to come and visit, but this time some of them might STAY. Be very afraid.

We're 2!

2008-06-02T16:21:00.000-07:00

I've been whining for two years now. Onwards upwards and outwards!

Blurg

2008-05-30T10:32:00.000-07:00

Ah, the job hunt. I must go and make myself seem like a nice person who loves nothing more than talking with morons. If I seem cynical, that's because you have never worked in Lake Geneva.

Living with my parents was a bad idea. Fuck.

Pop-up books are way cooler now than when I was a kid.

I will be the first to say that R.E.M. is still cool. Suck on that.

Cookbook?

2008-05-24T15:07:00.000-07:00

Has anyone seen my cookbook? It's red and kind of covered in flour, and contains the only copy of Lila's currant cookies. Come back, cookbook!

A Coward Bears No Scars

2008-05-22T10:50:00.000-07:00

Hey, guys! Long time no write, or it feels like it, at least. It's not that I have been hiding under a rock, rather, I have been going at a breakneck pace since I left Eau Claire on Sunday. I have discovered that I hate moving, and I hate it even more when hungover. I know: who the hell drinks the night before they move?

But I got back home in one piece, and the following morning I was up and on my way to Chicago. I had gotten an interview at this place, and aced it with flying colors. I may not like talking to people, but I know what they want to hear. I started the job the following morning, getting up at 5 to take a train from Fox Lake into the city. And so began my short, illustrious career as a professional asshole. My job was to canvass around Chicago, stopping people and asking them to donate money to Environment Illinois. My co-workers were extremely cool, and we had a lot of fun going out and being assholes together. The trick was to get people to stop for you: people in Chicago always seem, to quote some guy who wrote a book, "always late for their next shit, and a dime short for the public toilet." And they have even less time for you if you're standing at the corner of Adams and Dearborn, where the federal center is. I felt terrible asking people normal peole for money, that is, people who weren't wearing suits, because I know that the people who do give to causes are the ones who can't afford to. But, I felt completely ok talking to them about the Clean Water Restoration Act, and asking them to sign a letter of support.

Canvassing at Chicago and Michigan was even worse, posh people who obviously had time to shop at designer stores certainly had no time to hear a sixty second spiel, and had no problem telling me that they had n concern for the environment whatsoever. The people who did stop at that location for me were Australian and Irish (and one Belgian, my french finally came in handy) tourists who wanted to let me know that they appreciated that some Americans did care about the rest of the world.

There were plenty other canvassers out, so it was difficult to get people to stop a second time. But I did discover that the "Save the Children" people are incredibly nice, and that Greenpeace is a bunch of assholes who chase you down and try to get you to move off their corners, even if you were there first.

Because I evidently couldn't make quota, I was let go. I still get paid for my two days of work, which is great. My buddy Adam who I met through Couchsurfing took me out for a beer, and we went and had dinner with some other surfers at Earwax. All together there was one high school teacher, two doctors, a psychology Ph. D. student, and me. They were so fantastic, and made me feel much better about losing the job I just gotten.

It sucks, but I got some great things out of it: new friends, a better knowledge of where things are in Chicago, and I've certainly conquered my fear of public speaking.

Goodbye, SRI

2008-05-12T17:18:00.000-07:00

Today was my last show at the station. I love entertaining people, through theatre, and jkes, and Radio antics. I like making sure people are having fun, which I hope I accomplished with my show. Most people tuned in just to hear me go into rants about the state of the world, I know, but that was alright with me. There are a few things that SRI has taught me:
1. The only difference between a DJ and someone yelling at the voices in their head is a microphone.
2. Radio people don't really talk to each other, they just list off band names.
3. Never dress to impress on the days you will be stuck in a soundproof booth for a few hours, it gets uncomfortable.
4. Radio people never call each other by their real name, rather their DJ name.
5. Saying you're a DJ is kinda cool.
6. Radio people don't actually know who else works at the station.
7. Pirating CDs: good. Taking them from the CD closet: bad.

I recieved this e-mail today and I wanted to share it with you:

Dear Liz

I was a DJ at UW-EC back in the days when WUEC was really a student run radio station – long before it went Wisconsin Public Radio / NPR. This goes WAY back – Jack Kapfer was a student and on the staff when I was there… 1979-82. The station was run by the students and played music and other programming done by the students. Was VERY sorry to hear WUEC went NPR / Wisconsin Public Radio. WUEC used to be a great outlet for students to play music.

Glad I found SRI – I listen to it, when I can, at work, in Madison. Good to hear UW-Eau Claire once again has student run radio. As the semester is winding down, thought I would drop a note to let you know it has been wonderful hearing the great variety of music you play. Thanks…

Jim

Observation

2008-05-11T23:09:00.000-07:00

Watermelon is the most absurd fruit. No one stares at you if you're walking down the street with a banana, but a watermelon will stop traffic. Even more so if it is only half a melon.

Oy Vey

2008-05-07T10:34:00.000-07:00

I am now officailly leaving Eau Claire. I met with the advisor at student diversity, who ironically was my advisor during orientation (Bardiac--Marc Goulet says hi). I managed to keep my composure rather well. I get emotional very easily, even if I don't want to be. Also, I set up a potentially great job interview. I hope it works out, I don't want to work at the Pub all summer.

I am devising my summer reading list. Obviously, I'll try to finish the books that I had to drop when the semester started (Gargantua and Pantagruel, The Brothers Karamazov, Tom Jones) but your input would be appreciated.

I will never apologize...

2008-05-01T21:22:00.000-07:00

...for loving 'Jagged Little Pill.' Who doesn't love well-crafted pop?
...for swearing like a sailor.
...for being a mess, emotionally or otherwise.
...for giving money to the homeless. I don't care if they spend it on booze or drugs, everyone deserves a little help.
...for going out of my way just to avoid a major highway.

Ever notice that people in the midwest apologize for everything?

"I'm sorry, but, and I might be wrong, I don't know, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way, and I want you to know that I respect you, but I disagree with you, I'm sorry."

Stop apologizing for having an opinion! Sometimes, politeness goes to far.

May day

2008-05-01T19:15:00.000-07:00

So I went to a few capstone presentations today, for English Fest. This year's English Fest is not nearly as fun as last year's, despite the panel on Superheroes in Fiction, and I mostly attribute this to the lackluster theme: 'Interactive English.' The theme for last year was 'Comma Sutra,' which I adored. I would rather have English associated with sex than a damn computer anyday. The idea of 'interactive english' is a mite terrifying to me. It's sinister, like computers are going to take over everything us wordy-types adore. It's a little disappointing to know that hardly anybody reads anymore. I read all the time as a kid, it was my favorite thing. My idea of a good time was going to the library and picking out new things to read. If I every produce offspring(which will only happen by accident and if I miraculously change into the kind of person who'd be a decent mom), those little fuckers are going to read till they drop. But I digress.

Each presentation began with an essay about why they write. Each answer was witty, sincere and a little melancholy. I began to wonder: why do I write?

I'm an infrequent writer, I'll admit. I used to write everyday, but I've been in such a funk for a few months. Writing, as I see it, is like sex. It's sometimes great, more often than not mediocre, and once and a while god-awful. But, if you're not doing it, you spend all your time griping about not getting any. And the feeling you get when you read something amazing...like the first time I read Henry Miller, or when I first 'got' Shakespeare, just as memorable to me as my first kiss, or the first CD I bought.

So why do I write? There isn't a solid answer for that. Sometimes I just want to get away from everything, or there's this moment of pure emotion that I need to preserve. I'm so afraid of ever forgetting a single moment.

Liz is going to Lolla!

2008-04-09T10:53:00.000-07:00

That is all.

Subleaser

2008-04-05T13:57:00.000-07:00

I'm looking for a subleaser for June - May. I've decided to leave Eau Claire. Cute house by Carson Park, has washer and dryer, rent $220, and includes a cute quirky dog.

Don't know where I'll be going, maybe back home, Maybe back to Chicago, Maybe back to San Francisco, maybe to Portland, Maybe Santa Fe, maybe Baton Rouge, maybe to London. But it feels good to get gone.

Shaqwanda

2008-04-05T13:41:00.000-07:00

Bardiac's recent post about the absurd biking fashions made me think how far my bike is from real bikes.
Shaqwanda the Ghetto-bike is a good 20+ years old and still bears the little liscencing sticker from Racine 1985. She's a good bike, doesn't have any major problems except for the brakes that don't work. I have to be extra careful to watch out for cars and small children because the only way I can quickly stop is to throw myself off the bike.

She's a sassy maroon and rust, and if she was human, she'd be chain-smoking white trash. Though I'm sure Lucy would think human Shaqwanda would look more like this:

Mountain of Pieces

2008-04-05T13:29:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a while since I did some actual blogging, but you'll have to wait just a bit longer for a real post. Right now, I'm going to be a shill. We ET folks have been hearing these guys for a while now, and it's time the world knew who they were. My buddy Stukie's band Stükenberg have finally released their album "Mountain of Pieces," containing the hits "Protest" and "Don't Mind." I have been putting these songs on mixes for about two years, trying to spread the word. These guys are GOOD, I don't reccommend crap.

Go to www.myspace.com/stukenberg to listen and maybe just buy their album.

2008-03-27T22:27:00.001-07:00

English 284 is making me cry. How can I write a paper if I can't make heads or tails of the damn prompt? Bob must think that more ways he can make a question confusing, the better.

Mike Doughty Is One Cool Cat

2008-03-24T11:28:00.000-07:00

It was an awesome show, and after Mike did a House/trance set and Lucy and myself hung out with the bassist. Really nice guys, his band.

Goodbyeeee

2008-03-13T11:54:00.000-07:00

Hello, San Francisco!!
I'll be back in 10 days. pooh.

Red or Pink?

2008-03-10T23:10:00.000-07:00

Let me know in the comment section.