But darling you still gambled every thing you gave. . .

Between a food blog and a popular ephemera blog I've twisted and turned about what to do in this blog space. The concept of this blog is fabulous but uncharted so I'm going to post about live music in Portland and disappoint you with my use of adjectives.

Saw Melissa Nadler tonight. She's a good singer/song writer from Boston. I listened to her a few years ago cause she wrote this song about Daisy and Violet, the infamous conjoined twins who appeared in the movie 'Freaks' and bagged groceries at a store in Charlotte that my Grandmother frequented. True story. Fitzgerald met them in Hollywood and puked on site not due to shock but a hangover. I like Marissa's song "Bird On Your Grave". This is my first post about live music so I'm gun shy but next time I'll go all the way and provide links and shit.
-Emily

catching up over a round

I'm not much of a picture taker. I like having pictures of family and friends and sometimes over do it on vacations, but I have very few photos of day-to-day or weekend-to-weekend life. It turns out, however that I love to take pictures of what I'm drinking. Like annoying avid picture snappers, I guess I'm trying to capture and document the good times. I guess unlike others, I don't always have shiny happy faces reflecting meaningful moments to collect because I'm often enjoying myself alone. I had all of these photos on my cell phone.

Cheerwine at the Latham Mart from just before I left the 'boro. Sweet, sweet Cheerwine.

Right after I moved to Chicago, I bought six-pack of Old Style twenty-twos to mark my return to the midwest. I drank them and smoked on my "porch." I still enjoy the fine krausened taste even without the Parliaments.











More recently, I went to DC to meet with alumni of my program to see what kind of work I can get after I graduate in a year. After several days of suit wearin and elbow rubbin, some classmates and I went to the Brickskeller to unwind. They have like a zillion beers, a burger with salami on it, and a nice pub-like feel. Needless to say, I recommend it.





I spent Spring Break 09 in the Charm City with some of my favorite people. We got delicious Korean BBQ at a place pronounced though certainly not spelled Young Cock. Hooray for old friends, hot meat, and pickled cabbage.

- sarah

Be careful what you apply for. . .

So I applied for some job in Portland in January and the employer called for a phone interview. After the interview I didn't hear anything from them for three weeks so I figured the soft "r's" I used to cover up my southern accent had backfired. But NO, they called last week and requested a video conference interview. This is a picture of a university conference room in Portland from a corporate conference room in Greensboro. I think the interview went well but talking to a room full of people drinking their morning coffee after I've finished lunch is a little strange. . .and to be completely honest I feel a little queasy about the entire ordeal.
- E.K.

I don't have anywhere else to put this. . .

-E

Future Nostalgia

+ =




a scent combination that, if ever encountered again, will remind me of walking through Kimbark Plaza in Hyde Park.

-sarah

Waves of Mutilation

My ipod played a Disband song on shuffle and threw me into waves of nostalgia that have momentarily overwhelmed me. Remeberances of sweaty rocknroll and beer-filled basements. Dancing, petty grievances, late night bars, rivers and tubes and bbqs. Egad, man. I wanna swim and dance and hug my friends. Can I trade back some responsibility for some fun?

-sarah

I am very brave.

I just signed my voluntary severance package - my ticket out of the office chair that hurts my tail bone every day. As I stood up to leave my signing meeting the Human Resource manager told me that I was very brave. She looked me dead in eyes and said, "Well Emily, you sure are brave." and I burst into laughter that shot straight from my gut. I don't think it takes a lot of courage to leave a situation that totally SUCKS. Brave? ::snorts and scoffs::

I've added some links to blogs that I read and enjoy enough to visit again. . . and one link to another blog that I write. I'll add some more and you should too! Sarah, can you think any blogs about music that don't suck? I can't. You know what else? I'm going to add some embarrassing fashion blogs. Additionally, when I set this blog up I thought I'd use blogspot because I already have a blog on wordpress and I guess I thought I should play the field of blogging. Big mistake. Wordpress kicks blogger's ass.

4 Ways to Stay Warm in Real Winter

1. Eat


You don't need to buy a new down-filled coat if you're able to build one out of your own blubber. Plus, eating is delicious. If you really wanna pack on the pounds, eat your meat and carbs, my friends. I did that by going to the Meatloaf Bakery and getting one of their meatloaf cupcakes. Yep, that's meatloaf with mashed potato "icing."

2. Cuddl Duds

I'm not sure what leaving off the "e" accomplishes, but these long underwear protect my delicate legs from the the evil bite of wind-chilled jeans.

3. Drink

Take your pick of your personal favorite drink - hot toddy, cocoa with a splash of brandy, spiked spiced cider, mulled wine, scotch & water, whatev. mmm... feels warm in the belly.

4. Exercise

You're eating and drinking so much, fatty, that you're gonna look like the Michelin Man when you put on your actual down-filled coat. Move it, move it.

I just found out that with my cable I have a sweet, free On-Demand station for fitness videos. I choose between a whole buncha popular workouts and do them in the comfort and warmth of my living room. I like The Biggest Loser CardioMax even though I've never seen the show.

-sarah

Tell me about your fiscal shelter.

Hello Sarah, Caroline, Amy and the invisible Eryn - I'd like to hear about your experiences with the economy that we are told is failing. Do you feel the pinch in graduate school? Amy, what do who have to say about the future of print media? What the hell is happening in Louisville? Feed my head people, I need input.

- Emily

Real Winter

It's 6 degrees right now in Chicago but don't worry - it feels like -6. Oh, and the high in a few days is going to be 1 degree. 1. I'll try not to post anything else that's purely the temperature as I trudge through this season.

Outside world in '09!

So the best way to avoid the fact that I'm getting observed the day after tomorrow and haven't come up with anything to teach the children is to blog about moving to a new city, right? Right.
Snow in this city is beautiful...for about 10 minutes before it turns into an icy grey death-trap for those of us with unsuitable footwear. My apartment is a sauna. Herin lies my new city dilemma. I need to go out and do things with my very limited social circle so that it will become a less limited social circle and something that more closely resembles actual friends, but I just don't wanna. I want to stay in my tropical paradise apartment, eating string cheese, not bathing, and watching the Ludachristmas episode of 30 Rock over and over again. I know I should go see some amazing art show or explore a new neighborhood with some ridiculous acronym or at the very least go sit in a bar I've never been to so I can watch prettier people getting hit on. Instead I sit in bed reading US Weekly and feeling guilty about how I'm not feeling guilty about not going out. Of course, it's all really about staying safe, and not putting myself out there, and not having to be in super-awesome social mode, and not worrying about whether people will like me, and stopping all that crap should really have been one of my New Year's resolutions. Is there such a thing as a January 11th resolution? 'Cause I'm making one.
-Caroline

A typical night in Las Vegas

Well, okay. A typical night for me is sitting in my teeny, tiny apartment with my cat. But to make it more interesting, I'll tell you about the craziest Vegas night I've had yet. It's the Friday after Thanksgiving, and I meet up with my friend Andrew at the Double Down Saloon, a notorious punk bar in the heart of the Fruit Loop (gay district). We proceed to watch some bands and drink too much Ass Juice (I wasn't brave enough to go for the other house special, a bacon martini). Eventually, Andrew leaves.

I'm too drunk to drive home, so I wobble over to the hot dog stand across the street, which appears to be run by a loose coalition of drag queens and bull dykes. I get a hot dog, eat it, and keep walking down to the Hard Rock Hotel/Casino, home of the best penny slots in town.

Now it's about 3:30 in the a.m., and some tourist from Washington, DC decides he wants to make out with me. He's not bad looking, and I am still kinda drunk, so I consider it for about 15 seconds, then extract myself from his embrace. Making out with random tourists is probably frowned upon by locals. After I park myself in front of the slots for a while, and take a few more laps around the casino, I sober up enough to drive. When I wake up the next morning, I feel like hell, but I'm also pretty excited about my adventure. Now I just need to start having more of them.

transitions::bad humor

This truck is now parked in a garage in the NE quad of Portland. The burgundy Ford (purchased for $600 four years ago) traversed the lower crescent of the states carrying a sewing cabinet that belonged to my grandmother, a fancy juicer, a treasured collection of cookbooks, some clothes, and ::GASP:: an entire trunk of journals and other words that found their letters on paper. These items, vehicle and driver arrived in Portland without incident three months ago. And now, it's time to do it all over again. Except this time there will be four passengers (two of them canines) and an endless amount of time.

I think I would enjoy this transition more if it weren't so overdue. I spend most of my time behind a desk in a bookstore in the belly of a vast nonprofit that is so extremely effected by whatever it is that we are supposed to believe in wrong with the economy that the entire building in SILENT. A collective corporate inhale, belt tightening and all, and it seems that no one wants fresh air - just static and waiting. I usually feel like this poor guy. . .

It seems I've stuck my head too far into the pickle jar and I'm perplexed, humbled by the predicament I have gotten myself into. The bear in the picture was shot to be freed from her misery and this bear needs to find a more promising solution! At least I have better odds!

Truly, my solution is simple. I'll quit the silent but festering job that is blocking my senses, and I'm so glad. I have a hand full of months left of my 20's and I plan to use them wisely. Another exchange of fool-hardy optimism for a chance at something a bit better - and if not better, at least different.

But I'll tell you something you already know. This transition stuff. . .well, I think I'm learning that it helps to stay nimble, or suffer the unfavorable task of scraping rust from the parts that were mobile.

-Emily

how my life is like a sitcom

so i'm sitting with two cute blondes at jimmy's, a university of chicago bar, and am having a good time catching-up after the holidays. i go to the bathroom and when i come back apparently some boys want us to sit with them. while i was gone these youngins have pulled up two chairs to their table. two. as they pull up a third, i realize its so i can sit down. they approached these fine ladies while i was at the toi-toi. so, i sit and drink my whiskey and soda and chat with these boys. i talk to the one from arizona about how the cardinals won their wildcard game for the play offs and the other about his future in neuroscience. i am the girl with the good personality. i am a girl in a bar whose friends have been hit-on. i am the chubby brunette whose blonde friends have been hit upon. seriously. seriously?

-Sarah

collecting time

Though I always hate the pressure of New Year's Eve, I like the turning of the year. School suits me well because terms end and begin afresh. This is the time when I collect and list and collate all that I let loose in the previous year. If I have it on a list, I've captured it and think it will be done.

I did swell in my classes last term, but I didn't do a heckuva lot else. I wrote on a piece of paper that I will try to schedule time to do things besides school in the coming term. I will leave Hyde Park.

I had a list of things that Eryn and I were going to do when she was visiting me for New Year's Eve. When she got the flu and couldn't visit me, I mostly stayed home like I had the sympathy flu. I wasn't off to a great start, but I redeemed myself today by going to Intuit, Chicago's outsider art museum. It was wee tiny compared to Baltimore's Visionary Art Museum, but it was free and got me out of my apartment.

I will be mighty fine in oh-nine.

-Sarah

For serious, ladies

Bitches, update! I love this place. Moving is hard. I love life/life is hard. Blah blah blah. Somebody else write something. Drinking whiskey and blogging is always a good idea. Over and out.
-Caroline