how do you know when to let go?

2008 is coming to a close. Let's recap some of the highlights.

I kept the house. And I got an awesome roommate.
I wrote my first paper. Still trying to get it published.
I saw a lot of shows: Laura Veirs, Erin McKeown, Jose Gonzalez, Bon Iver, The New Pornographers, Okkervil River, Kate Nash, Tegan and Sara, Ingrid Michaelson, Josh Ritter, Thao, Ladytron, Neko Case, Stars, Man Man, Wolf Parade, Calexico...
I met a ton of new people. Some of whom are now very dear to me. (MJS, this means you)
I had great fun with friends.
I went on a bunch of dates.
I made out with all kinds of people.
I was someone's RNRGF.
I biked for miles and miles and miles.
I danced late into the night.
I floated.
I camped.
I knitted.
I rollerskated.
I roadtriped.
I cooked.
I drank beer. And more beer.

All of these things and more made 2008... the year of transition. the year of independence. the year of re-learning for a new stage in my life. But some old habits die hard. For me, there will always be this persistence to hold on to situations, to people. My umpteenth fatal flaw of not letting go, of not being able to give up control. Of being personally invested in seeing things through.

So for New Year's, I suppose I need to have a chat with St. Jude and offer him all my lost causes. He should take them up, so I don't continue to clutch them too close, like a security blanket of what-if's and what-could-have-been's. How do you know when to let go? Where does the good go? Where does the good go? It's December 31st and another year ends. Time to embrace the promise and change of the next one. And the lost causes, the things that are so hard for me to give up on, can I put them aside and start fresh? I would like to say yes. I really would.

Resolve resolving resolved.

All I want for Christmas is ME

Once again, I find myself entrenched in the holiday season. And while I am feeling a bit more in the spirit of things compared to last December, I still haven't managed to figure out what to do with myself as a single person during this time of year. For all the personal-life-bitching posted herein, I do heart being single. I like the fact that I can work late without worrying about someone waiting on dinner for me. That my free time is spent partying it up with friends at art openings and indie shows, food and drink abounding. That I get to do what I want, when I want. All the time. Period.

In the past, Christmastime meant finding time to be with family and figuring out gifts. Who gets what and when will we see everyone. It was arranging schedules, divvying up parties and housewarmings. Baking. Decorating. Sending out the yearly card. So much about the holidays involves doing stuff with a significant person, be it a spouse or a child or a best friend. Makes it hard for someone still finding her footing as an individual unit to navigate. My solution so far has been to avoid it as much as possible by working all the time. When I need a break, I buy gifts online. I haven't touched an ornament since the Keepsake Divorce of 2007. I wonder if Hallmark makes a bauble for that event... Not to be mistaken for a total Scrooge, I typically manage some cookie baking with awesome friends. And a few festive occasions out on the town. Of course, I'll head to Nashvegas for the usual Webb family festivities, which are always a good time.

But in the end, I'm just not that into it right now. Like the scene in "The Polar Express" where the parents can't hear the bell from Santa's sleigh. So what if I'm RSVPing for New Year's parties as "Jaded, party of one"- I feel okay about it.

did it break enough this time?

Sometimes I wonder why adults don't take the time to physically process how they feel. As infants, without the luxury of language, we use crying to communicate our needs or when something is wrong. We grow up and crying becomes less socially acceptable. We don't usually do it in public, or find it embarrassing when it does happen, hastily wiping tears away with the back of a hand. Expressions of grief or sadness or just being upset aren't released by adults. They hover near the surface until we can push them back down, compartmentalize them, and move on. Even genuinely happy people could use some emotional purging every now and again.

I hadn't had a good cry in a while. You know... the loud ugly cry. With the sniffling and the sobs and the little gaspy breaths in-between. It was quite cathartic; something I had forgotten. Maybe I've been going around with my emotions to close to the surface. Maybe that causes me to say or do things that I wouldn't normally. Or maybe people pick up on the lingering feelings over what my actual actions are and read them the wrong way. Like some kind of extra sense that pervades how I interact with others. I wish I knew what people wanted, or that there was some consistency to it. Barring mind-reading, the best I can do is just be a good person and hope that effort is recognized, not questioned. And, I guess, cry.

the casuality of a two show weekend

After a shit week, what else is there for a girl to do but dust her shoulders off and climb back on that rockNroll horse? In spite of the sublime Obama victory on Tuesday, I managed to remain mostly miserable with professional and personal rejections abounding. Cue my savior- an indie rock weekend here in the Lou.

Two shows on back-to-back nights. Starting with a freebie (mad props to my gay consigliere for the ticket hook-up) at the Gargoyle. Wolf Parade was lovely under the red and blue lights illuminating the basement of Wash U's former student center. Good college rock vibe. The Canadians called us "dudes" without a sense of irony and were generally pleased with the crowd. This being their second StL show, the last at the now defunct Rocket Bar, where they played after a Green Day cover band for about 4 people. Needless to say they were ecstatic for the turnout of StL hipsters en force. Call it a ritual, call it whatever you will...

Show 2 was at one of my fave venues, Blueberry Hill's Duck Room. Calexico packed them into the sold out U City basement and I was lucky enough to have scored an unclaimed ticket off a friend of a friend. The music was stellar, as always, and Joey Burns was looking especially dapper in a vest-tie-jeans combo. Accordion, trumpet, guitar, lap steel, whistling... it was lovely.

And while I enjoyed both of these shows in shoulder-to-shoulder crowds with friends, in the end both were more for the music itself than for the company. Ms. Nola always comments on my overly social nature and worries that I don't take enough time for myself. I can't help it, I crave people. But for some reason going to a show is not about that for me. This is the one time that I would almost rather be alone. With the music, with my thoughts. Calexico closed the set with their cover of Love's "Alone Again Or" to much raucousness from the crowd.

"You know that I could be in love with almost everyone and I think people are the greatest fun."
And I will be alone again tonight, my dear...

Sometimes, you have to cut your losses and realize a little solitude, no matter where you find it, goes a long way.

(political) words...

Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.

this is the day your life will surely change

With the election less than a week away, I felt it was time to comment on the political buzzword of the 2008 campaign: change. It is apparent to me, you, and everyone we know, that change is needed and with any luck, is a-comin'... But what about change as a verb to describe my own life? I keep replaying the last scene in Empire Records in my head. (Yes, I own this movie on VHS and yes, I have watched it far more times than anyone would like to admit.) You know, the scene where Liv Tyler gets the boy who's crazy about her instead of the jerky washed-up rock star and all the store employees dance on the roof to celebrate the saving of the business from the evil corporate buy-out and the scene fades out with a The The song playing in the background as the neon flashes and the sun comes up...

This is the day your life will surely change.
This is the day when things fall into place.

I would have to agree that there can be moments like this, but are usually only seen in retrospect. Or maybe I just fantasize about having moments like this, but find that change is never action, only a noun describing what took place. Who looks back over the course of a year, 5, 10, a lifetime and says that is the day where I saw change? It unfolded in front of me. I was there and I was part of it, not just witness to the by-product. I keep coming back to the idea of self and being selfish in the moment, for the moment. I need to act and not simply react. Achieving this mentality has been at the top of a steep learning curve for me, given my propensity to care too much. But I am finding a balance that makes me happy. Have I been witness to my life changing? Maybe a little... again, this is more a reflection than anything else. But I do have my eyes out for it now. And the next time, I think I will see it in time to ride out the moment. And hopefully the Soundtrack to My Life will cue up right along with it. Likely some REO Speedwagon... ;)

PS... Don't forget to GET OUT THE VOTE on November 4th!

the Wisconsin beer list

In no particular order, the beers I consumed during my trip last weekend...

1. Lakefront Brewery Trocadero White Ale (Milwaukee) - My first beer of the trip. A light, Belgian-style Wit enjoyed on the patio of the Trocadero Bar along with a Wisconsin cheese flight.
   
2. Lakefront Brewery Eastside Dark Lager (Milwaukee) - Malty, tasty, and a bit more my speed. Definitely went better with the 10 year aged cheddar, too.
   
3. Lakefront Brewery Fat Abbey Strong Ale (Milwaukee) - Nightcap at the Trocadero's sister bar, Fat Abbey. Sticking with the high alcohol content after the Man Man show. Yum.
   
4. Water Street Brewery Oktoberfest (Milwaukee) - Probably one of the sweeter Oktoberfest's I've had. Wasn't a big fan of this one. Though I did love the classic Fish Fry at the Turner Restaurant. Mmmm, potato pancakes...
5. Water Street Brewery Pale Ale (Milwaukee) - Better, but nothing to write home about.
   
6. Furthermore Proper (Spring Green) - Interesting style. Drinkable.
   
7. Furthermore Fallen Apple (Spring Green) - A blend of cream ale (totally underrated yet delicious beer in my humble opinion) and cider. Had the nicest finish.
   
8. New Glarus Fat Squirrel (New Glarus) - Dark, cold, pleasantly bitter... Which also happens to describe our campsite as we spent the evening trying to get a decent fire going.
   
9. Ale Asylum Hopalicious (Madison) - Best hoppy beer of the trip. A pitcher for $11 on the Wisconsin Union Terrace. Definitely added to the entertainment factor of BMX boys grinding on the railings and the multiple wedding party photoshoots.
   
10. Gray's Oatmeal Stout (Janesville) - "Chewy" and smooth, as all good oatmeal stouts should be.
    
11. Sean's ESB (Home-brew) - Big thanks to Sean for his hospitality and sharing a pre-show brew with us.
    
12. Pabst Blue Ribbon (Milwaukee) - I'm sorry, but 16 oz cans do NOT qualify as tall boys.
    

fall leaves fall

Counting down the hours until MJS and I head out for our Fall Break Road Trip^TM. Su-wheet! I heart everything about FBRTs... headlights, crisp nights, changing leaves, singing too loud and off-key over the engine-wind-hum, junk food from convenience marts, dotted yellow lines, amusing Midwestern signage... We are hitting up Madison and Milwaukee for a 4-day weekend filled with old college friends (from the Mawr and Mizzou, respectively), microbreweries, urban exploring, farmers' markets, coffee fixes, hiking/camping, cheese, an indie rock show, and whatever other trouble we can get ourselves into.

Thinking about this trip reminds me of when I visited Ms. Nola in NH during the fall of 2001. We bought and cooked delicious food from the Dartmouth co-op and a tiny farmers' market across the river in Vermont- I still think that was the best goat cheese I ever had. We made a trip to the Ben and Jerry's factory to take the tour, encouraged each others' window shopping, took pictures in the leaves on the quad and watched undergrads running around burning pyres. Such a great time. I look back at photos of that trip (taken on my old school SLR, which I am bringing with me to document this weekend, hooray!) and I think of how happy fall makes me feel. Warm colors, coziness, harvest, good friends, and sucking in every moment of sunlight and life as it will too soon be winter and bleak... Fall is contentment. I don't think I could ask for anything else at the moment to inspire me more.

Travelling, A Eulogy

After the Second World War
William A. Colman returned
To his mother's old Victorian
On South Union Street
In his hometown of Burlington, Vermont,
Without much parade or fanfare.

William spent his days
Training to be a boxer,
A pastime that kept his mind
Off distant French shores.
Hours at the local YMCA
Hoping to catch the eye
Of some mustachioed promoter
Up from Boston, Mass.
Or maybe an exotic Quebecois.

Tucked in a pocket of his trunks
Was his brown leather wallet,
A gift from his mother
Before he crossed the Atlantic.
She had always been fierce,
With ties to Mohawk Indians and
Green Mountain Boys.
And had offered reassurance that
The ancient design on the cover:
A swirl, a knot, black and
Gold and pine, all etched
Would bring him luck or protection.
William didn't care which.

Time does not remember
William A. Coleman as a fighter
In neither trunks nor fatigues.
He is only survived by
A wallet, faded and cracked
In a roadside antique store
Thirty miles south…

For a small souvenir
Of my New England travels,
I paid ten dollars
To glimpse the story within
A yellowed ID card
And his expired Y pass.

ABW
October 2001

I traded all the innocence I ever had for hesitation

I'd like to offer up some recent thematic reprises in the RO+2 story arc:

• Live music crackrock perfection
  

Now: Neko Case, Stars, and karaoke at Talayana's
Then: Holidaze, somewhere in the middle you fall, 5 days, 3 shows

• Autumnal revelries with my best peeps
  

Now: Best of MO/Shaw Art Fair, apple picking, local foods, impending Midwestern road trips
Then: really good short story, return of the prodigal daughter

• Dating- Good times and/or vast abyss of confusion
  

Now: ?!?@?@?!&&%%$! (i.e. at a loss for words, both positive and negative)
Then: Sorry I was cruel, when I'm drunk it's easy...

Lately I've been doing my share of negotiating of now vs. then. Old comfortable friends with new acquaintances. Wrapping up old projects, while moving on to new ones. Being a scientist-educator-activist, but trying to maintain my play-hard mantra. It's easy to get weighed down in worrying about balance, about doing the right thing at the right time, about what other people want. Negotiating self with all those little external pieces that fit in around and complement who you are. It's easy to get stuck and hesitate. Thinking about the last year, I keep coming back to moments when I realize that at the end of the day, all that matters is just me. How I feel sometimes about everything and everyone else- overwhelmed, frustrated, blissful, content, all of the above- doesn't necessarily have to equate with where I am in my life. My happiness is not wrapped up in these things I find elsewhere. And my happiness can't be diminished by them. Focus in the moment becomes key. And for that, negotiation is negligible... it's simply about remembering that I can only be true to myself.

to believe in this livin'

Again, I let another month get away from me with only 2 posts. Apologies. And now that Ms. Nola has been requesting some blogging, I figure I should oblige. Maybe, if I break the silence, a flurry of writings about Palin and new music and StL culture will unfold. It is almost fall, my favorite time for curling up with a cup of coffee on a Sunday morning (post-pancakes, of course) and letting the thoughts flow. Just need to reintroduce the habit, I guess.

All this lack of blogging is to say that life has been really, really, good of late. The end of August brought some new people into my life- an awesome roommate who shares my name, as well as a new friend/morethanfriend who feels like a very old one... someone I feel like I could have befriended a long time ago, but for whatever reason has entered my life right now, at what seems like an ideal time all around. It's funny to find myself in a place that I haven't been in a decade. But what's probably more important beyond the labels of whom I am dating (bah on one-sided views of gender and sexuality!) is the fact that the Good Doctor makes me happy. And laughs at my jokes.

In my last post before all this adventure, I talked about how we reconnect with what we have experienced before, particularly music. And that these things have the potential to make fresh marks upon us. I find it striking that having written those words, I then stumbled across opportunities for breaking new ground in my life. Like singing REM and the Pixies and John Prine completely off-key around a campfire... I am so thankful for the ability to recognize, embrace, and run with what is happening around me. Fresh marks, indeed.

holding back the years

I got the call that I am closing on the house tomorrow. Going through this process for the second time- except now it's just me. And with the papers signed, it is official: chapter closed, almost a year later. Rushing forward, onwards. Nothing like finality inked in blue.

It's been months since most of the photos and memories were boxed and put away. The few lingering snapshots are unobtrusive, out of direct line-of-sight. With Andrew's help I rearranged furniture over the weekend, making space for a potential roommate. Things feel different, even though I haven't changed my location. Still, I find myself spending some part of every day thinking about how to reclaim things as mine.

Recently a conversation spurred the idea of intensity; in response, I listened to Melissa Ferrick's live album on repeat. I was obsessed with this album in the summer of 2001... in the beginning... And now, hearing the songs again, I realized that I reconnect with the music in a new way. I am far removed from that girl of 21. Or perhaps, I respond similarly; but with altered eyes, reflecting the adventures of the last 7 years. Then today, XPN played three Counting Crows songs from "August and Everything After..." I remember when this album came out- I was 13. I bought it on cassette. I know all the words, to all the songs. And they still, still, resonate for me. Hard to believe I've had 15 years of reacting to this music under an infinite number of contexts.

So while thinking about how some music evolves for us, while thinking about "moving" into my house for the second time, I stumbled across Carrie B's latest post about what else? Moving on and music. She says,

the albums we've come to take for granted can leave fresh marks upon us; they can override nostalgia and sentimentality; they can overtake a moment, permeate and flood. It's good to know, beyond mere mental recognition or a historical acknowledgement, that certain music can and does turn you inside out...

Here I am in a new moment, ready to rediscover and override. Ready for something to make fresh marks on me.

the incredible disappearing July!

hard to believe that it's already August. my StL summer has passed by like a bullet train barreling towards Autumn. but before the evening smells of lighter fluid and charcoal are replaced with burning leaves and hickory, there is much to report. and much more still to savor...

the end of June passed quickly; even with MJS still being in PDX, a plethora of events were to be had. Romer's birthday party which ended with our intoxicated wrestling re-match. me = dunked into the kiddie pool multiple times. guess that puts the score at 1-1... bring on the final showdown! the StL Pride Parade where I marched with the ACLU group. lots and lots of bike rides, including one ending in a sheared rear derailer (sorry Alissa!) plus discovering the ridiculously amazing cocktails of the Shaved Duck. cocoa nib infused bourbon manhattan with a bourbon soaked cherry- heaven. at the end of June I also made the decision to keep the house and get a new mortgage in my name only. that decision has been one of the first in a long time that has felt like moving forward. not a reaction, but an honest choice as to what's best for me and not prompted by the behavior of others. I must say that it feels really good to be here.

July unfolded with more drinks, more fun, and more things from my summer wish list. 4th of July parties, cheap beer, new neighborhood friends. trips to the Tower Grove market and to the Gardens for Jazz on Wednesday nights. our softball team finishing the regular season at 10 and 3. the longest bike ride of the season: a metric century (65 miles) with MJS in Illinois farmland. new food experiences, like Onesto in SoHa and Tower Tacos as the inaugural venture of the Cherokee Street Eating Club. plus Veruca is now serving milkshakes and paninis from Niche at lunch on Saturdays. shows at Off Broadway, made lovelier by the smokefreeness and O'Fallon Wheech on draft. reading for book club, reading for fun. late nights and wine with the knitters. and of course, work. helping with E's RO1. my experiments. teaching neuroscience to a couple dozen high school teachers from all over the country. showing middle and high school kids the wonders of the human brain.

not bad for the last 6 weeks, huh? hopefully I won't be suck a slacker at posting in August.

that teenage feeling

nothing comforts me the same
as my brave friend who says,
"I don't care if forever never comes..."

In a recent conversation with Cpt. Cast-On, we came to the conclusion that the term "young adult" should not refer to the Miley-Cyrus-loving--tween generation. Instead, WE are the young adults, trudging through this vast wasteland between 25 and 35; we are stuck in the holding pad of the overly educated. When returning to our 10 year high school reunions, we are the unwed, non-employed, perpetual-students with nothing to show for ourselves, save the wear-and-tear of academia and drinking.

I am far enough removed from post-adolescence, from college days and the whirlwind of early twentysomethingness, to feel like my life should have started by now. and I suppose, in many ways, it has. I've gone through a major relationship and the ending of it. I am a homeowner. I've had a stint at a real job. I have seen death and birth in my family. Everyone is getting older. Yet somehow, I often wonder if I am simply here standing still as time passes me by. If I am holding out for something. And what that could be... a person, a career, or just a switch within myself that equates with progress.

This is not to say that I am unhappy with where I am right now at 28, the choices that I have made. But sometimes the perceived easiness of other paths is alluring... and if that is what you want, how do you get there? How do you find the missing pieces that suddenly thrust you onto a new and uncharted direction? I wonder if it's that teenage feeling I'm after... I'm not even sure if I would recognize it in the first place. Maybe that's where Miley Cyrus comes in.

a summer wish list

With Solstice on the horizon, and the inevitable sounds of a pagan drum circle on my block this weekend, I thought I would take a couple of minutes to jot down things that I am looking forward to in the season before September.

1. A submitted (and then accepted) manuscript - current title: "Lack of coupling reveals flexible circadian phenotypes in individual neurons of the suprachiasmatic nucleus"
2. Wednesday night Jazz in the Gardens
3. Training rides in prep for the MS 150
4. Softball and cheap beer
   
5. Being outside with the smell of sunscreen and bug spray and chlorine
   
6. Float trips
7. Road trips
8. Selling the house
9. Teaching and mentoring
   
10. Late nights on my deck with good conversation under the stars
11. Any and all live music
12. Cocktail hour
13. Having a good laugh... with someone or simply at myself
14. Making ice cream
15. Saturday morning walks to the Tower Grove Farmer's Market
16. Bottleworks
17. Friendship and maybe a little affection
18. Books
19. Yoga
20. Leisurely dinners with a glass of wine (or two)
    
21. Walking barefoot

What's on your summer wish list? Is there anything you would like to add?

we brave bee-stings and all

another month. another week. another Monday. Let's talk about my day, shall we?

2 June 2008.
Up early in the morning to shower and stumble through the usual juice+toaster waffle breakfast. Drove to campus b/c of evening commitments requiring transportation. Today with be the first in 5 days that I haven't been on my bike. Sole person in lab pre-8. The AC is still not working properly in our building. :( makes all those temperature sensitive experiments we do quite happy, grumble grumble. Get to work. Plus email. Plus Facebook. Eventually 9 am rolls around; critical mass is slowly achieved in the office.

10 am talk on plant clocks by a guy who postdoc'd with a prof in the UK (who was buds with E at UVA back in the day) that I would be interested in working with come that whole Lex-is-Dr-Webb thing. Talk was pretty good. The free coffee/bagels/donuts makes the students happy. Back to lab and work. Then head to lunch with this plant clock guy. Totally awkward. Me and two other grad students, one of whom he didn't make eye contact with much at all. While I warrant excessive amounts... yikes! Topics ranged from the taxation of married women in Germany to how Obama is uber-left to portion sizes in the great US of A. At one point, the non-sequitur was "God Bless America." Seriously. Flee from lunch to attend lab meeting. Yes, you read that right, lab meeting... where I spend 50% of the time listening attentively and 50% of the time wanting to eat my own brains out with a dull spoon. It was that bad.

3 pm and I'm back in the lab for one last push of work and email and meetings and coordinating all those little things that I take care of in my over-committed-grad-student, who-would-one-day-like-to-finish life. For example, planning the summer Neuroscience course for teachers working towards a Masters in Biology here at Wash U. E and I have designed the syllabus, including lectures, labs and activities. We'll be presenting all the material at the end of July. I'm excited and the $1500 for being the TA isn't bad either. I think I would go crazy if I didn't have all these other things I cared about other than my thesis. :)

5 pm puts me headed towards North StL. As I drive down Delmar to Vandeventer and turn onto MLK, urban blight abounds. I'm going to another meeting, this one with individuals passionate about education and social justice in the City. The average age of the men and women around the board room table is less than 35. I am volunteering my time along with everyone else to help develop a charter school that will target highly mobile (i.e. homeless) youth in StL, set to open in 2009. Our application is due in August. The dedication and drive of everyone invovled astounds me.

By 8 I am eating my dinner of caramelized onions and sausages with a green salad. Paired with Paulner's DoppelBock, I am a happy kid. Not bad for a Monday. Not bad.

bread and roses

at this time last year, I had just returned from England. I was soon off to Bryn Mawr for my first college reunion weekend. Then back in StL, refreshed, I started this blog in hopes of continuing to reconnect with my writing, my self, and all the emotions that the journey back to my alma mater had rekindled.

hard to believe everything that has followed from that point.

so now what?
I am a year older (though I feel infinitely wiser and more grounded).
I am a year closer to being a PhD (continuing down that academic path, away from mediocrity, towards something).
I am *almost* a year into being single again (meeting and getting to know new people, realizing how much friendship truly matters).

and still, here I am at the start of another summer... the beginning of a season where I dwell in the smell of sunscreen and citronella. outside till all hours, desperate not to spend every waking moment in the lab. on my bike. on my deck. pulling weeds. having drinks and good conversation. dancing. hiking. looking at stars...

I think about Bryn Mawr. about the preparation and the journey. about that fact that life is always a challenge, is always harder than you want it to be. I think about sitting on Denbigh green one August night as a freshman with hot candle wax dripping down my fingers... "Bread and Roses" echoing back into the night, behind Taylor Hall...

Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses.

5 days, 3 shows, and 1200 miles

Attention Dear RO+2 Readers!

We interrupt your regularly scheduled "Lex's Dating Update" (yeah, when your biggest fan *ahem, BDW* starts grimacing, you know you need to start posting about something other than your search for Ms. Goodbar...) to bring you something complete different! Hooray!

In the last week I have thrown my work to the wind (bah! grad school!) and ventured to 3 different cities to rock out at 3 different concerts. So now for your reading pleasure, I bring you a lovely little essay, chock full of "compare and contrast" action! And for those of you keeping score at home, the themes will be: 1. Venue Quality and Atmosphere; 2. Opening Entertainment; and 3. Overall Musical Goodness.

Show #1 - Kate Nash at the Vic Theater in Chi-town.
J, S, and I braved crazy thunderstorms and a massive wreck on I-55 last Friday to make it to the northside of Chicago for obscene amounts of food and to see a lovely young lady from across the pond, Ms. Kate Nash. And while we have all been rocking out to her fantastic album, "Made of Bricks," since the single first hit the states last November, this show left something to be desired. I think we were all a bit disappointed. First, the opening act was just plain bad. I won't link them to my disparaging comments, but I will tell you about how this group took what I think is a totally rockin' concept and failed to execute. Imagine that you go to estate sales and garage sales and flea markets and you buy people's old 35mm slides. and then you write songs about them. and then when you perform the songs, you play the slides on stage. sounds cool, right? yeah... I thought so too. unfortunately, instead of warming up the crowd, we all just wanted to vacate the building by the time they were done. sigh. Then enter the somewhat inept tech crew of the Vic. Here we are in a very cool old theater in the Belmont area of Chicago... you would think that the acoustics would be amazing. Not only did they take 45 f-ing minutes to get set for Kate, but they couldn't even get the sound on the mics right. The entire show sounded muddled with the bass and drums being way too loud and over-powering the vocals. Although I totally adore Kate's record, I wasn't expecting to be blown away by her live performance. But still, having her backed by a 5 piece band (likely some record label exec's idea) was just bad. :( The best songs of the night were the ones with just her on piano or guitar, where you could hear her voice and her witty, catchy lyrics. In the end, the show was good, but not great. Oh well.

Show #2 - Tegan and Sara at the Pageant in StL.
Leave it to some Canadian lesbian twins to bring out the queer community in the Lou. I bought my ticket to this show back in January, knowing that I would eventually be able to find someone else with a ticket to go with me. Actually, I went with 2 other couples (yes, that would make me the spare tire on the Subaru) and easily knew another dozen in the crowd. I've listened to Tegan and Sara since the summer before my junior year at BM when Ms. Nola and I spent days rocking out to "This Business of Art." This was my first time seeing TnS live; and, regardless of earlier warnings about the quality of their stage performances, it was actually a strong show. We skipped the opening act, opting for food and brews at Bottleworks. I heard that the set was pretty decent. I must give the Pageant props for sweet sound (compared to Show #1 it was infinitely better) and not keeping the crowd waiting. Musically, I really enjoyed what they played- mostly songs from their last two albums, "So Jealous" and "the Con"- two cds that have lived in my CD player for weeks at a time. Being sisters and twins at that, T and S had some silly on-stage banter. It definitely made the show more entertaining... as long as it's in limited amounts, of course :) A good time overall, though I felt like I could have had more fun if there was more rocking out and dancing amongst my compatriots. Maybe next time.

Show #3 - Josh Ritter at the Belcourt Theater in Nashvegas.
Now here's where things get interesting. Did I drive to Nashville and back in less that 24 hours in the middle of the week to see a show? Yes, yes I did. I am crazy. But here's the thing... it was Josh Ritter. and Ingrid Michaelson was opening. and those would be the artists who put out 2 of my favorite CDs from 2007. So of course I had to go. Added bonus- $15 tickets and it's at the Belcourt, which is a fantastic place to see a show! Yay! You may say, at this point, that I already have a bias for Show #3. And that may indeed be true. But it was also a fantastic show. First, I heart going to shows by myself. it gives you complete license to be totally into the music and the experience. Also, I got to hang out with my fam and drink beer before hand. Win-win. For an opener, Ingrid was stellar. She was hysterical- running commentary about cankles and heavy-over-the-sweater-petting and gospel preaching and lunch lady arms. And adorable. And the music was great. She even gave me a hug between sets when I told her that I had driven all the way from StL for the show. then The Ritter. and his band. so, so, so, so good. the songs, the tightness of the band, the palpable air of just how much fun they were having. Too many great moments to describe, but a couple of my favorites: Josh asking us to sing "Don't let me come into this year with an empty heart" to the person sitting behind us; the band switching instruments during the bridge of "Right Moves" and then continuing to rock out; the bass player's waxed handlebar mustache; Josh's smile and dragon jacket. What is it about live music in Nashville? Maybe I will never know why, but it just sounds better there. To me it's like water (or crack)- I can't get enough...

UPDATE: Here's the man himself talking about the shows in Nashvegas... including some kick ass pics of my hometown :)
HT to BDW

Alright, signing off here. And I bet if you made it through all that, you are probably ready to read some whiny post about my love life again! Heh heh heh ;)

when I'm drunk it's easy, when I'm sober I try not to love you so hard

yesterday I said, in the aftermath of a rather embarrassing freak-out prompted by the canceling of plans, that friendship and attraction do not a relationship make.

Do I believe this? Yeah.
Am I looking for a relationship at the moment? No, not really.

And maybe expecting that people I want to spend time with will equally want to spend that time with me is too much... maybe that is "relationship-y," the idea of companionship. I rather enjoy the company of certain individuals, and I must say that I have reacted selfishly, like a petulant child, when I can't get what I want. even when that is only someone else's time... that is what matters to me right now. I feel like time is the most important thing anyone can give to another person- I value my time and expect others do as well... my feelings get hurt when someone doesn't recognize the gift of time or doesn't believe that I am worthy of hers. yes, things come up, shitty days and what-not. but it shouldn't take much to convey the idea that you and your time are worth something to me (without freaking out), and vice versa.

I don't need anything beyond friendship and attraction... sure physicality and intimacy are key at times. but I am not searching for profound emotional declarations. I'm not looking for three small words. I just want to enjoy what seems like a good thing, however fleeting. why can't I relax and let that be? I hate being so out of practice at this...

in just-

spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame baloonman


whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring


when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer
old baloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing


from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's
spring
and
the


goat-footed

baloonMan whistles
far
and
wee

-e.e. cummings (1920)

well, the apocalypse starts tomorrow...

I keep meaning to blog about the upcoming PA primary, which after an excruciating month of bs (preachers and pundits edition), finally appears to be upon us. I have the angle for the post all figured out- having spent my undergrad years outside of Philly at that uppity womens' college I hold so dear... it would start by describing what I remember of the 2000 election.

I remember not sleeping that night in November, watching the returns come in with friends in our pajamas, watching the state of florida become a jump ball in a basketball game where the scoreboard was not diligently following the direction of the possession arrow, watching on a screen projector in the dining hall of one of the dorms... where I ate breakfast and brunch and lunch and dinner with the rugby team after practice... where I read the NY Times daily and made my own rice crispy treats by microwaving marshmallows with a pat of butter in a bowl and mixing in the cereal. this was the dorm of my current gf, yet somehow I ended up back in my own bed at some obscene hour of the following morning. I remember skipping class the next day, too depressed to deal with the electoral reality, sleeping in through PChem and Inorganic. these are vivid images that should shape my take on the Democratic primary on Tuesday... I can talk about feminism and Bosnia and shooting Crown Royal and the Weather Underground under the guise of my perspective as a naive 20 YO of what life was like 8 years ago before this great misadventure in our country's history. but that is not the post I want to write tonight...

for those of you who may have missed it, I have been on a total music binge the last 8 months. for whatever reason, new music has become an addiction again, not paralleled since those college days. I have bought close to a dozen cds since the new year. I am averaging 4 live shows a month... ticket stubs and jewel cases abound. I am struggling to make single volume mixes. hell, I even bought a wireless hard drive to dump old photos and mp3s on to make room for the new stuff on itunes. tomorrow night is the New Pornographers show (featuring the lovely Neko Case among others...) with Okkervil River opening. And I must admit, other than Neko, I am total there to see Okkervil River. their song "Plus Ones" is an clever trip down memory lane, featuring references in the song lyrics to, among others:

97 tears (see Bay City, MI)
the 100th Luftballoon (nouns are capitalized in Deutsch)
8 chinese brothers (last stage of the sleep cycle)
the 51st way to leave your lover (live in Central Park)
and candle 17 (I heart Molly Ringwald)

Okkervil is on the JagJaguwar label. as is Bon Iver, another new fave, an indie neo-soul crackrock perfection. "Skinny Love" could easily be the best song for the year. please, please, please check them out. give them your hard earned cash. because, if you do, I will eventually write about the PA primary. unless my new emo band name becomes reality (see post title) and I have to go see them. :) afterall, there was an earthquake this morning...

still your silver lining...

if I take the time to put my constant reflection aside, there is a lot to feel good about.

in the just now. the moment. where all my thoughts stick to this single experience of simply existing. here at my desk in lab (as always), drinking black coffee (as always), listening to XPN (as always)... unfortunately, every instance is not attractive. as my yoga teacher says, it takes effort to stay present. to bring your mind back to the task at hand and remain content there. to focus.

I am, for the most part, a planner. I believe there is purpose behind my actions; there is intent. and this often leads my thinking to the past, and to how I want that past to move and shape my future. this doesn't leave much time to enjoy what is actually happening around me. sometimes though, there is an image... an object, a person, a sound that I want to hold onto and revel in. and maybe it's cycling or yoga or finding those you connect with deeply. but there is something in my life right now that is reeling me into the moments around me. I feel grounded. and that's a good thing. and I just want to say thanks for it...

for seeing a small red fox, a city fox, crossing my street on Sunday night. from alley to alley, beneath the streetlight

for beautiful live music with friends. hands in pockets, wrists thrust out at right angles, caught in the sway of the crowd

for friends and family (blood or otherwise) and taking the time to be by myself

Alex Chilton and a road bike

"I'm in love...
what's that song?
I'm in love...
with that song"

at the moment there are two things that I <3 just a bit more than everything else...

one is an old flame and the other is my brand-new obsession:

1. The Replacements. Likely one of the best bands ever. And don't just take my word for it- they come complete with a RnR gf seal of approval.
   
2. My new road bike. a Specialized Dolce. Isn't she gorgeous?! Feel free to ogle. I "can't hardly wait" for all those long rides :)
   

Resurrection (from what) Ails (you)

One of my favorite beers to drink whilst I lived in B-more (that would be Baltimore for the uninitiated) was made by a local craft brewery, Brewer's Art. In addition to accessing it at their fantastic restaurant and beer cellar, Resurrection Ale was available at other bars across the city. As a teacher, Friday afternoons in the spring meant HAPPY HOUR... I would scoot down the Alameda after school to meet up with friends and co-workers at One World Cafe, where for a mere $2 a pint (yes, you read that correctly- microbrews for cheap!) I could drink tasty bevys like Resurrection and Rogue's Dead Guy Ale till my heart's content and chow down on huge orders of delicious veggie nachos that are only slightly rivaled by the bison ones at Bottleworks. This would lead to the other Friday night occurrence: making my way back to TV Hill, buzzed and sleepy, and likely falling into bed before 9. Ah, good memories...

So now 4 years later I am entering another spring in StL and thinking about re-birth. It's a good time a year for it. the Redbuds outside my office are starting to flower and a pair of morning doves have built a nest, spending the day fending off the somewhat aggressive campus squirrels. It is also the season of friends' birthdays, which I suppose is the product of summer lovin' in the late 70s/early 80s.

I hosted a Resurrection of my own this past Saturday. Well, actually, it was to celebrate the birth of the 27th Jennifer (notice my masterful incorporation of Jen's age and the Mike Doughty song... coincidence, I think not- that's what I call blogging!) That, and I really wanted to cement my future damnation...

Without much further ado, philosophizing on "hope springing eternal" and the benefits of whiskey punch, I give you my version of the best way to welcome in the new season. And in light of these recharging festivities (well, no one had to hold up in a cave for a few days beforehand, but you get the point) I suppose I am now prepared to kick some ass until solstice!

The Last Peep-per

Martha Stewart would approve, right?

Why yes, that is a 3D cupcake cross!

Me and the lovely ladies (Birthday girl on the L and Gnat on the R)

"florence and calamity and joan of arc" - Friday night food porn and other stories

what is it about Friday nights at home? a speedy, half-intoxicated bike ride home after happy hour. cooking and drinking wine in my pjs. playing the newest Josh Ritter album quite loud, hoping that the kids playing basketball in the alley can hear it. especially tracks #1, #3 and #4 on repeat repeat repeat...

"you look like David Bowie, but you've nothing new to show me... over and over again..." (5 points for getting this song reference; hint, it's not Josh Ritter)

it's been a long, albeit somewhat unproductive week. how did that happen? I suppose I should be thankful for the small things that I accomplished. reveling in the first day of Spring. the fact that while I am still working on the paper for the first aim of my thesis, Aim 3 seems to be kicking into full gear. Can it be that I am less than 2 years out from graduating?! *gulp* knitting and yoga and brackets and bike rides and coffee and CD shopping and free beers. regardless of all my comings and goings, I do love a Friday night finishing off bottles of wine, making chicken piccata (sorry for the repeat culinary event, but, yes, this is a twice a month sort of recipe... and you get a photo this time!) with rice pilaf (homemade beats Rice-a-Roni) and broccoli. plus reading and blogging and rocking out to good music.

ms. jen's b-day is tomorrow. Easter Eve. I will be hosting the Resurrection here at casa de Castleman... complete with a 3D cupcake cross (please be anxiously awaiting my sacrilegious pics!!!) it will be a fabulous time.

I'm not sure what else to report. it's kinda day-to-day in the Lou. the majority of the time, I am simply living. nights like this make me so content to be on my own. because who the hell cares if I play "to the dogs or whoever," "right moves" and "the temptation of adam" 40 gazillion times on my crappy college boombox AKA soundsystem... there has been some discussion (over 21st century Pictionary and gift-carded beverages) about what I am looking for, where I am in my life. Pre-M, I would have chalked myself up to the non-settling variety. now I could go either way, have gone either way... 28 is still too young to decide on those sorts of things, right? it's completely appropriate to randomly give out your cell number whilst waiting for the other shoe to drop regarding that hard-to-get girl ("i never had to learn to love her... she just came along and started to ignore me") you truly adore at the moment... it's also strange (substantial, startling, scary, surprising, surreal) to be in a place, 7 months out of a serious LTR, where you feel like there's potential to be with someone again. it's great to be a fast healer, but for the time being, I'm not completely sure if I want to compromise my Friday nights alone with Mr Ritter and the booze...

as said songwriter so elegantly puts it:
"there's always whiskey and women and women and whiskey around
(s)he can't tell which is worse, to be dying of thirst or to drown"

although,
"singing don't let me into this year with an empty heart, with an empty heart..."
is somewhat convincing... sigh :)

Spring Type Break!

well, no, not really. no rest for the weary graduate student. I have a paper to finish, remember?

but, dammit, I will be in Austin at this time in a year for SXSW. mark your calendars now. I will immerse myself in music and not sleep for days. I cannot wait.

for now, I am living vicariously thanks to XPN and NPR and the adorable Ms. Carrie Brownstein (er, C.B. Grumbleton, pictured below)...


you can check stuff out here and here.

and for more Spring Break fun, I give you, TEEN GIRL SQUAD!

your Brandy Alexander goes down easy

my weekend, as told by beverages:

Thursday

• O'Fallon 5 Day IPA (x3) - Newstead Tower Pub has this on draft. I dig hoppy beers and I think this and Schlafly's Dry-hopped American Pale Ale are likely the 2 best beers made here in StL.

• Young's Double Chocolate Stout - From a can (complete with a widget- woo carbonation!) into a pint glass at the Church Key. Warmed me up after a chilly walk down Manchester and served as a fantastic "dessert."

• S's KnitForceUnited whiskey punch (x2) - What could go better with gossip and Girl Scout cookies?!

Friday

• poorly poured keg beer in Styrofoam at a gallery opening (x until I gave up and switched to red wine) - blonde, early 20s girls who have probably never tasted any beer other than a Bud Light should not be allowed to operate kegs. in fact, most people should not be allowed to operate kegs. Here's a little side bar for you, faithful blog reader... I am a keg operator. I don't even let the facilities guys in Biology tap the kegs at the department picnics. Stand back, I say, I played rugby and you guys are just going to f- this up. and for the love of God don't pump the f-ing keg when the spigot is closed! sigh...

• cheap Cabernet (x2) - not exciting, but at least does not foam
  

• a Brandy Alexander - Herzog nation descended upon Natalia's new restaurant, the Fountain on Locust, for bevys and sweets and savories. and I must say that Leslie Feist was the main influence in my selection. brandy, dark creme de cacao, half and half, ice cream, nutmeg... yes, I can see how that would get someone into trouble ;)

Saturday

• Michelob Ultra (x2) - only in Chesterfield *shudder*, while playing board games and watching college basketball with almost strangers, would I submit to consuming such a beverage. ah, the things we do for the ladies, right?
  

Sunday

• Schlafly Dry-hopped APA (x3) - Bottleworks on Sunday! It doesn't get any better than this. With Chris spinning the funk, my weekend of "get up, get on up" was coming to a close; nothing like a little Cascade hops to make my night.

• Schlafly Coffee Stout (x1.5) - I blame this and DST for keeping me up way past my bedtime last night. Still, my favorite way to end the evening is keeping "the Beer Pusher" from pouring me another :)

sorry I was cruel; I was protecting myself

On the eve of my birthday I saw Laura Veirs play in the basement of a bar in Park Slope. I didn't have tickets, but hung around the entrance to the room and finally sweet-talked the woman managing the door into taking my $10 and letting me inside. I squeezed in between the couples and the Brooklyn hipsters, rocking back and forth on their expensive trainers, just as she was taking the stage. This was my first time seeing Veirs live, though I've known her music for a while. My friend Alissa is practically a dead ringer for her and it's kinda a running joke between us. I spent my undergrad years going to shows in venues like this across the North East and MidAtlanic- tiny, idyllic, intimate places with wood paneling or tin ceilings, an ancient bar tucked away in the back. And while Feist was my first solo show in ages (see holidaze), the Veirs show really brought me back to what it was like being in a crowd, closing my eyes, letting the music wash over me, feeling like if I fell... the moment would swoop in and support me. She was lovely and ephemeral. I walked back along the tree-lined streets to Ms Nola's apartment perfectly content. I wrote an email that night proclaiming that if there is an afterlife, mine is filled with good beer, cobalt glass, perfectly smoothed pebbles, and female singer-songwriters.

I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve. I am honest and open about how I feel and what I think. Probably to a fault. It seems that these qualities get me into trouble more often than not. Over the last 6 months I have been learning to do more to protect myself and how I feel. This doesn't mean that I've put my heart away or have stopped being up-front about my opinions. But I think I am finally in a place in my life where I have realized that while I may not have complete control over what happens around me, I do chose how I let it affect me. And maybe that means I still push too hard, that I still put myself out there too much. But I know now, that at the end of the day, I need to take care of myself first. And that other people's issues and perspectives, while no less valuable, cannot dictate what is best for me. This has been a major challenge. Even if all of this protection and distance is valid, it still makes me feel like a jerk most of the time. I like connecting with people. When I feel like I can't do that, or I have to limit it, I get frustrated. So for now, I know that what I'm doing is the best for me... but it's kinda like a kid being told to eat her vegetables because they're good for her. I'm going to do it, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.

somewhere in the middle you fall...

It's 9:30 on a Thursday and I'm beat. yet another busy week. I was happy to spend the evening at home with dinner and a movie. one of Ms Nola's posts last fall has inspired me to share a recipe: chicken piccata.

chicken breast, usually pounded flat btwn 2 pieces of Saranwrap with a rolling pin
salt, peppered, and lightly floured
cooked in a little oil over medium high heat until lightly browned
remove chicken and add a little minced garlic
followed by lemon slices and a combination of chicken broth and white wine
reduce
add more lemon juice and capers
reduce again
remove from heat and melt in some butter, pour over the chicken

yum! pair that with some couscous, broccoli and another big glass of white wine and you would have my dinner for the evening. I curled up with Dame Judi Dench ("Mrs. Henderson Presents"), a giant box of Jelly Bellies (gift), and the pink baby booties I am finishing for my friend Julie who's due in March. a great night all around.

the last 2 nights this week have been music-filled ones. on Tuesday I went to the Fabulous Fox Theater for the first time to see Avenue Q. it was a belated b-day gift from my friend Gnat. and it rocked. it's not often that I see musicals (my only others being The Who's Tommy and Rent) and it's even less often that I relate to the songs and the characters... in this case, puppets. seriously. Gnat and I were especially drawn to the Bad Idea Bears- who in high pitched voices proclaim the wisdom of buying a case of beer to save money in the long run and the virtues of LITs. more drinks, more fun!

I spent today coming down from the emotional high of seeing Erin Mckeown play live last night at Wash U. for those of you who know my aural proclivities, you know I lovingly refer to Erin as my original rock n roll gf. I saw her live for the first time in 1999 when she played Bryn Mawr College's May Day. The second time was in February of 2000. she was solo. it was Valentine's weekend and I had recently broken up with my first girlfriend. I told her she was the highlight of my weekend, and with that she emblazoned the name to my copy of her first cd: "McKEOWN the Highlight." I spent 5 years going to see her play from Providence to Baltimore, catching almost every single show she did in Philly. I even gave her a Valentine one year... a hand-made collage/card with the lyrics of the Magnetic Fields' "Love is like a bottle of gin" scribbled inside. she is my A#1 crush.

I haven't seen Erin perform live since moving to StL in summer of 2004. the show last night was worth the wait. it was organized by a group of undergraduate women- the Committee on Women and Art. and Erin's event was part music, part lecture, and part discussion. to hear someone that I admire and respect so much as an artist talk about politics and feminism and identity... I was completely awe-struck. it was probably one of the most intimate experiences I have ever had with someone I don't really know. hearing Erin's music, listening to her speak about herself and what she thinks and believes about issues that are important to me. I couldn't have asked for anything better. she answered a question I asked about gender presentation in her music... something I'm sure is a somewhat personal topic. but she was so candid and honest. and then closed with probably one of my all-time favorite songs of hers, "Daisy and Prudence." luckily I didn't melt onto the floor.

after the show: again, the signing of CDs. wanting to linger to talk to her more, but not wanting to be obnoxious... standing outside and staring up at the lunar eclipse. what a night! I was so amped up afterwards I didn't sleep until almost 1 am. maybe it's weird to be this intense about someone who you barely know, to make them iconic could be a bit dangerous. but Erin makes me giddy in a way I don't think I have ever felt about anyone. strange, but true. in the end, I suppose it's okay to hang on to the idea of my rock n roll gf. even if it is only beauty just because...

here I go again on my own

Happy February, everyone. Hard to believe we are 7 weeks into 2008. I've celebrated my first unattached birthday since the infamous "Super Bowl party-mullet wig-rock on plus two" incident of 2001. Luckily I had the means to do it up in style with lots of fondue and a birthday 6 pack in Park Slope, Brooklyn, NYC. good times, good times.


Valentine's was spent at Bottleworks with my peeps, proclaiming to whoever would listen that I am the most eligible lesbian in StL...

hot- check
stylish- check
smart- check
funny- check
can cook- check
excellent taste in music- check
well-read- check
has her shit together- check

the girls should come a runnin', right? yeah. sigh.

my attempts at dating so far in 2008 have been met with some success. I mean success in that at least I've been on dates. several, in fact. lots of first and second dates and really, not much progress from there. seems that to most people, dating is a lost art. not that I am an expert, by any means. I just know that I am looking for something beyond a hook-up, but much less than a LTR... dating seems to be the likely choice. unfortunately, the women I've met recently are tending towards the extremes... not that I mind having more friends. it's just not really what I am looking for at the moment.

I already have amazing friends who come over and wait till 9 pm to eat dinner b/c I under-estimated the time a new recipe would take. my friends make me laugh hysterically. and can make fun of me incessantly without making me feel bad. knitters, scientists, beer drinkers, interpretative dancers, G-chatters, cyclists, concert goers. they are my support system and I literally couldn't have done it without them.

so yeah, here I go again on my own. but I have an f-ing entourage at my back this time. and they make me feel grounded and content in who I am... and my future is that much sweeter because of it. rock on.

The Park Slope Accidental Tourist

greetings from Brooklyn. I have survived my first 24+ hours in NYC (including a low-blood sugar induced wandering from Columbus Circle in the opposite direction of Lauren's office) and have lots to report. it is wonderful to be here, surrounded by people that I love and having a wonderful time doing fun things.

to re-cap... last night there was the Freud drawings at the MOMA, Thai food and much lounging with Lauren and Gifford at 88 Sterling Place.

all before we headed out to the Catty Shack for Brooklyn Lagers and illicit dancing. I should mention that on the 2 TVs at each end of the upstairs bar was playing "Beetlejuice" and "Purple Rain," respectively. the evening included the exchange of sno-ball money and ironic minty kisses on Maggie Gyllenhaal's street past 3 am.

today was all about exploring. Lauren and I spent the morning in Park Slope, getting a late breakfast at Cousin John's and wandering the shops of 5th and 7th Avenues. we then donned our long underwear and headed to Williamsburg and the Brookyln Brewery.
rosy cheeked from the beer and the cold, we wandered amongst the hipsters (are you too indie rock for me?) and bought books and pain au chocolat.

we then headed back into Manhattan to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge as the sun set.
what a magical day! the finale was some coal-fired oven-baked pizza at Grimaldi's at the base of the bridge. Yum! and tomorrow... ice skating in Bryant Park, shopping in SoHo, the Tenement Museum, and Belgian beer in the Village.

we now return to your regularly scheduled programming

wow, I am sorry to say that we are into the last week of January and I have yet to put up a post in the New Year... murl. it's been a busy month so far and blogging hasn't really been on my radar screen. I should work on that.

there is lots to report. the house is on the market. I am writing a manuscript to submit to Neuron. thesis updates, beer dinners and festivals, game nights, movies, art openings, knitting, new friends, dates, and Sunday Spins. whew! it's hard for a girl to keep up!

some things that have been catching my eye lately:

• the lack of media coverage of John Edwards leading to this on-point ad from his campaign
• impending "Stagflation!"- what my AP Econ teacher taught me was the scariest economic situation ever... inflation with a stagnant economy. and he would know, he grew up in the 1970s
• the need to have a real debate about science and technology policy in the US

I leave for NYC tomorrow. I am looking forward to getting out of StL and celebrating my Golden Birthday (I will turn 28 on the 28th this year) in the Big Apple, surrounded by some of my oldest and best friends in the world. I am excited to explore Brooklyn for the first time, to drink Belgian beer and eat pomme frittes with mayonaise, to go ice skating. expect some posts and pictures from my home-away-from-home in Park Slope over the next 5 days.