MW’s Grown-Up Cookbook

I’ve decided to write a cookbook.  I know what you’re thinking: “But MW, you’re terrible at improvising, extremely absent-minded, and tend to burn/light things on fire”.  Whatever, doubters.  This cookbook is going to be geared toward people like me and make me totally rich.

Cooking for the Absent-Minded and Cheap

Chapter One: How to prepare for cooking
1. Remove smoke detector and place under couch cushion.  A chair will also do.
2. Get all your ingredients together first.  Be sure to read the labels.  Ginger and garlic powder can look similar at first glance, but they are not even close to be okay substitutes for one another.
3. Pour yourself a glass of wine.  It’s going to make all this a lot easier.

Chapter Two: First Aid
It’s imperative that you have a handle on basic burn and cut treatments before you begin cooking, especially if you plan on doing anything with fire or knives.  Please note that it is possible to cut yourself without using knives, and microwaves can light things on fire too.  To avoid most burns, some of my friends and I like to use the following statement to remind ourselves to be careful: “Things that come out of ovens are hot”.  Repeat that to yourself through the cooking process.

Now that we’ve got the basics out of the way, let’s get down to cooking.

Chapter Three: Cheese
Cheese makes everything more delicious.  You should add it to everything you can… and it works for every meal, too!

Chapter Four: Onions and Garlic
If you are sautéing anything at all (and I use the term “sauté” loosely to mean “cooking anything that isn’t breakfast-related in a frying pan”), you should start with olive oil, onions, and garlic.  This is a basic rule that should pretty much always be followed.

Chapter Five: Cereal
Cereal is acceptable for every meal.  Some cereals are actually more suited for lunch or dinner than for breakfast.  Buy accordingly.  Have several kinds of cereal in your cabinet at all times… unless you make your own granola, ’cause that stuff’s delicious and there is no competition.  Remember though, this is a rare food that is not improved by the addition of cheese.

Chapter Six: Seasoning
I don’t know how to season.  You’re pretty much on your own here, unless you want to talk about the wonders of basil, pepper, and garlic.

Chapter Seven: Baking
Sharing baked goods is an excellent way to make friends at work and is way easier than regular cooking.  It makes your whole house smell delicious and is also a nice way to warm the place up in winter, in case you are too cheap to turn up the heat.

Well, that about wraps it up for now.  If you’ll excuse me, I sliced a chunk of my thumb off while cutting up an onion this evening and it’s kind of starting to hurt.  Don’t forget to buy my cookbook when it comes out and help me become a millionaire! 🙂

My Life Is Like a Romantic Comedy…. Except for the romance part. Really, it’s just mostly awkward.

Disclaimer: unless someone is truly a d-bag, or if there’s really no chance I’m ever going to see or talk to them again, I will try my hardest to not cast anyone but myself in anything but a positive (or possibly neutral)  light.  Names have been changed to protect the innocent.  And the d-bags.  Because I’m not a total asshole.

Once upon a time, a small-town girl moved to the big city to make a new life for herself.  Wait, I’ve seen this before… don’t her quirky ways win over her worldly, pensive, and handsome neighbor/dog walker/barista/fellow commuter? 

HAHAHAH!  No.  Maybe that happens if you have a stylist so you don’t constantly look homeless and/or unemployed, and someone to write lines for you so you don’t say nerdy or uncomfortable things… I enjoy the benefit of none of those.

I’ve  already mentioned my most awesome online dating adventure ever (https://grownuplivin.wordpress.com/2011/01/17/worst-first-date/) with “Derek” the almost-40-year-old, former full-time pot dealer who lived with his mom and older brother two hours from Chicago…. that’s the kind of guy it takes for me to actually come out looking like the cooler one.

We’ll come back to my brief foray into online dating in a bit.  For now, let’s take a look at a few examples from Mairin’s Cluelessness: A Brief History.

High School (or: the times I’m unwittingly an asshole): We had this thing called TDT in high school – “Teacher’s Discretionary Time” – which was essentially 20 random minutes around 4th period that they used to balance out the lunch timing.  Junior year, I was lucky enough to end up in the Psych class that was mostly seniors, so our teacher didn’t care what we did as long as we weren’t loud.  Two guys, Adam and Steve, came up to me while we were all just hanging out one day.  I was probably studying, because that’s how cool I was:
Adam: Hey Mairin, we were just wondering what you thought of Jacob
(Note: Jacob is standing approximately ten feet away watching this exchange intently)
Mairin: Ummmmm
(It should also be noted that seated right next to me, and listening in with interest, is Pat, a guy I have the major hots for)
Steve: He’s kind of waiting for an answer
Mairin:  I don’t think much of him
(Pro Tip, boys and girls.  WORD ORDER MATTERS)
Adam and Steve: BURN!!!!  (Or the 1997 version of “BURN!!!! Whatever that was.)
(Jacob is still watching.  The poor dude.)
Mairin:  NONONONO!  I mean, I don’t think of him much (Mairin.  This is not helping.  Sooo… it’s not that you dislike him, but that he’s invisible?  Close your mouth and stop talking.  Forever.)
Steve:  So… you’re not gonna go out with him?
Mairin: (there’s no hole for you to crawl into, kiddo.  You’re going to have to answer)  Um.  No.  Sorry.
At this time, Adam and Steve walk back over to Jacob and in the sensitive way that only 17 -year-old boys can do, break the news to him.   He just lowered his head and walked away.  I’m a terrible human being.

There’s also the time I got asked to Prom.  But didn’t realize that was happening, so just appeared to brush the dude off.  My friend explained it to me later.  I was shy and awkward and sorta weird back then (hahaha, “back then”)…. and it simply didn’t occur to me that anyone would ask me out.  So I either didn’t accept that was happening, or was so shocked I could only stammer out sentence fragments or loose collections of words in the wrong order.

College:
I studied in college… and did not go out on one date.  Yeah, that’s right.  Not. One.  I spent a lot of time working on mathematical theory.  Or composing late at night in the music lab.  I did join some clubs after I had to quit track due to injuries:  I was in the Mathematics Club (if you think high school math club kids are dorky, you REALLY need to meet the college ones!) which was led by my academic advisor/linear algebra professor, and was an inaugural member of the Atlatl Club, started by my archeology professor.  I know, I know, there’s nothing hotter than a mathematical-theory-loving girl who knows how to throw (and make!) a Paleolithic hunting spear, so it’s pretty surprising that I stayed single all through college, but there it is.

The Working World:
We had this sorta cute college intern once when I was a mental health case manager… Burt.  He spent a lot of time doing visits with me (he went into the field with all of us, but I feel like I got him most often in his last week).  On his very last day we had the following exchange in our office, after having been out all day driving around the city.
Burt:  So, do you think the Shrek sequel is something you’d like to see?
(The Shrek Sequel, you guys)
Mairin:  Oh, probably, I kind of want to.
Burt: Yeah, I’d really like to go see it too.
(Awkward, 3-minute pause.  Seriously.  EXCEPT, I didn’t know it was awkward… I rarely know it’s awkward.)
Mairin:  Well, I hope you get a chance to see it!
(and then I went on my way finishing up paperwork.  Burt left forever about 5 minutes later.  I probably said goodbye.  I hope I was normal enough for that, at least)
Coworkers (who had been witness to this entire exchange):  WHY ARE YOU SUCH AN IDIOT?!!?  (or something similar).

Didn’t see it.  At all.  In my defense, I think he should’ve just asked me to the movie, if that’s what was going on there…. I just thought he really liked Shrek.  WHAT?  That could happen.  Sigh.  I couldn’t even be normal enough to say, “Maybe you should wait 20 minutes until you’re not an intern at my work anymore, and then ask me again”.  And then I’d be all charming… you know, how people do.

And then there’s the online dating.  Which took place when I was re-reading my copy of “Chaos: Making a New Science” (which is fascinating, by the way, and you should totally read it).  So I would get to my meeting places early, after I let the guys know I’d be the redhead already seated, reading a book about Chaos Theory.  Yeah.  Yeaaaaah.  Why I’m still single remains a complete and utter mystery to me. 

While I was doing the online dating, I was an intern, working in an office with only two other coworkers.  They were all about this process, from helping to decide who I should meet, to critiquing my clothing choices (I maintain that jeans and a nice shirt are PERFECTLY ACCEPTABLE for a mid-week, after-work, casual dinner, first date, especially if my work is such that I am allowed to wear jeans every day.  Hell, I even wore shoes that weren’t sneakers.  Maybe.  I at least thought about it), to giving me options for restaurants that would make me look in-the-know (I was an intern.  I had zero dollars and couldn’t afford to go anywhere, so I had no suggestions).  “Finding Mairin a date and helping her pass as a less-nerdy version of herself” became a group project…. I think they were more into than I was actually.  Which makes sense, because they didn’t have to actually spend time talking with these dudes.   🙂  I’ve since given up on online dating…

One of those online dates did turn into a relationship for a couple of years… which leads me into my current “ripe-for-a-romantic-comedy-happy-ending” situation:  I finished grad school, got a decent job in the Loop, and moved out of the apartment I shared with a roommate.  I wanted to live on my own, closer to work and closer to the expressway so my suburban boyfriend could come and visit me more easily.  And then my job broke up with me.  Three months later, my boyfriend broke up with me.  A month-and-a-half later, I got a new job six blocks from my old apartment and now commute over an hour each way on public transit to get there.  Also?  The handsome, employed-appearing guy who lived in the apartment behind me moved out shortly after my relationship ended and 6 22-year-old hipster kids moved in.  What. The. Hell. Universe?   (note: I’m not totally hating on all aspects of hipster-dom.  I can have hipster tendencies myself.  But these kids were such hipsters, it was as if hipsters were smugly dressing and acting as hipsters to be ironic).   Seriously.  What the hell.

So, aside from one failed, awkward “surprise” set-up at a party (P – I love you, I really do.  And the gesture/effort was more than I could ask of a friend), that’s where I am now.  The Universe appears to conspire against me at times…. And when it’s not, I do a pretty good job of effing it all up myself.   If someone from Hollywood were writing my life, I’d meet my soulmate on the bus, when we both ask people to keep moving all the way to the back at the same time.  Or at the grocery store, both buying an odd mixture of health food and beer.  Or wandering the empty streets of downtown when I’m on my “lunch break” for my second job at 5 am.  Ok, maybe not that last one.  That could be sorta creepy.

Until then, I’ll be the redhead at the corner table, reading “After Capitalism”.  That’s sure to be great hook! 🙂

PRIDE

This post has been a while coming… it’s take some time to marinate, for me to figure out how I wanted to write this.  Most of my posts here are funny…  because my life is kind of funny and I need to remind myself sometimes that I’m really not a big deal and most people don’t really care about my VERY SERIOUS THOUGHTS.  Because people are grown-ups and have their own thoughts….

But I think I’m going the serious route with this one.  I think I have to.

I moved to the city about 5 years ago and every year since, I’ve been either working or out of town for the Pride Parade.  This year, I finally got to go… and not only did I get to go, but I got to walk in it with my Alderman and other volunteers.  WHich is awesome because 1) my alderman is the kind of politician that I wish I could be, if I could be a politician (which I am pretty sure I couldn’t) and 2) because I hate hate HATE huge crowds.  They make me really anxious and I last about 20 minutes before I start wanting to whine and go home.  Actually being in the parade eliminates a lot of those crowd issues.

So we walked, however many miles it is, past hundreds of thousands of people.  People in various stages of dress.  Smiling people.  Screaming people.  Kissing people.  Hugging people.  Laughing people.   I threw beads (because that’s what the people want, apparently), making sure to hand one strand to every kid I saw along the way (kids are cute and yay parents for bringing your kids!), gave out a few hugs, and in general marveled at the mass of humanity on Chicago’s streets and sidewalks.

There were haters.  Of course there were haters.  Toward the end of the route, they were set up with huge signs and I thought it odd that they weren’t saying anything.  You know how much the haters love to tell you you’re a sinner.   And when I ran up to get a hug from a girl holding a “Free Hugs” sign, I was close enough to actually hear the haters… what they were saying isn’t important.  It never is, because they’re wrong.  What was important was the crowd of people surrounding them, holding signs with words of love instead of hate written on them were cheering so loudly that they drowned the haters’ megaphone out.  Take that, assholes.  Love wins today.

The Things We Do for Money

After I waxed nostalgic about my fishing lake job yesterday, I started thinking about all pre-“real job” careers we all have.

Entertainment Company
Between the ages of 13 and 18, I worked for a neighbor who owned an entertainment company.  We dressed up as costumed characters from children’s shows  and worked kids’ birthday parties, parades, carnivals, and company parties.  It was terrible, but the hourly rate we got paid was awesome…. no matter that we only worked a few hours a month.  In those 5 years I was:  a Rugrat (ugh), “The Purple Dinosaur” (apparently “Barney” is copywrited.  Man, I got punched a lot in that costume), the Easter Bunny, Winnie the Pooh, Minnie Mouse (as the only teenage girl working for this dude, I was the only one who fit in the costume.  I got in trouble once at a carnival when I was about 16 or 17, because – while in costume – I was spending my time flirting with some firemen instead of taking pictures with snotty and screaming little kids), Baby Bop (Barney’s friend), and the yellow Power Ranger (one time, at a company picnic, I actually had to have a security escort because of the gangs of junior high age kids who wanted to see me “fight” and would therefore try to karate kick me.  Apparently, power rangers fighting back against the kids is discouraged).  That job was a nightmare.  But no one else around us was hiring kids under 16.

Burger King
After I decided I wanted more reliable work than being a Power Ranger, the only two options in my town for people under the age of 18 were fast food or housekeeping in the hotel next to the truck stop.  My parents nixed the hotel idea, so I was stuck with Burger King.  It was terrible.

IT Maintenance
For 4 summers, I worked for my dad setting up computer labs in a school and providing tech maintenance.  The first summer, I worked nights after my shift in the Burger King was over.  the next two summers, I worked during other jobs.  The last summer, I worked full-time.  All those summers I was the only girl working, and also the only one small enough to fit up in the ceiling to pull cable.  The worst time was when I spent over an hour crouching and balancing on thin metal strips, with a bandana over my face to fend off insulation and dust.  When I finally got down, I just laid on my back on the floor while my muscles spasmed out of control for over ten minutes.

The Embroidery Factory
At the same time I was working for my dad, I was also working at a small factory, bent over embroidery machines all day before I spent 5 hours at night on ladders and stretching into the ceiling.  That was the year my lower back started hurting all the time….

The Forest Preserve
Also worked here at the same time as the IT job.  It was lovely. 🙂

College Jobs
Dishwasher/Caf Worker
Track & Field Manager
German office helper
Health/Physical Ed office assistant
Babysitter (okay, this one wasn’t through the school, but I emailed all the profs I knew who had kids and begged them to hire me when I stopped being able to afford to do my laundry).

What’s the most random job you’ve ever had?

Early Morning

In the summer of 2001, one of my jobs when I was home from college was working for the local forest preserve at a fishing lake in my county.  There were two shifts, opening and closing… and since they overlapped for only two hours, you ended up working 6 hours by yourself.

Generally, I’m not a morning person.  I’m not super sunshiney or chipper.  I’ll communicate before 7 am if I have to… but I prefer not to have to.  But friends, I tell you, I loved that opening shift at the lake.  The concession/bait/boat rental stand – where I worked – opened at 6, so you had to get there by 5:30 to unlock everything, start the coffee for the early fishermen (it was all men at that time of day), put out the bait, get the window opened, etc.  There was a dedicated group of guys who would be there every morning waiting patiently for the forest preserve employee to open the gates, ready to get in their hour or so of fishing before work.  And if there was someone new that day who expressed impatience with the 30 minutes it took to get everything opened, they would step in and set that guy straight so I wouldn’t have to.  And if they felt I was rushing myself at all, they’d tell me to take my time.  Early morning fishing is not supposed to be about rushing, you know.

After that initial group of men, no one else would come up for at least an hour or so.  The stand smelled of coffee, the sawdust we used to pack mealworms, and the minnow tanks; it was almost totally silent except for the birds waking up, the hum of those tanks, and the occasional voice drifting across the lake toward me.  Even in August, the air was so cool I would have to wear a sweatshirt those first couple hours.

There are times when I really miss that job.  I miss the simplicity of renting boats and writing fishing licenses, of packing bait and handing out life jackets, of hauling the boats back up onto the shore at the end of the day and driving  on the back roads while my windows down and radio blaring.  I miss grossing little kids out by the fact that catfish blood bait was kept in a fridge just like their Gatorade was.  I miss the junior high boys who came to fish and, once they found out I was from the same small town they were, would stand around and talk to me about how tough the local high school could be sometimes for kids from our town. 

There was no pressure then.   I was working to pay for school, which seemed stressful at the time, but in retrospect is a lot less stressful than working to pay my rent and my electric bill.  My job was to sell things, to answer questions, and to chat with people and make them feel comfortable coming to the lake…. and get them to come back again.  Getting ready in the morning involved rolling out of bed, brushing my teeth, and pulling on my jeans and forest preserve polo shirt.  No point in showering before work when you’re going to end up smelling like bait and fish anyway, right?  (side note: until I renewed my driver’s license last year, it had a picture on it that had been taken right after my shift at the lake.  I was wearing my forest preserve sweatshirt and every time I looked at that picture, I knew I smelled like fish that day).

It’s hard to get that early morning feeling here in the city… but sometimes I get a similar one when I walk around on my second job’s “lunch break”, between 5 and 6 in the morning.  There aren’t as many birds, and it doesn’t usually smell like bait, but there’s that same sense of newness in the day.  When the predominant sound is delivery trucks being unloaded, and there are no crowds yet on the sidewalk, and even Michigan Ave feels a little bit peaceful.  When I can still take a deep breath without feeling stifled, the air is clear and clean feeling, and while the sky is light, the sun isn’t up far enough to be seen. 

There aren’t a lot of easily accessible wide open spaces in the Big City, but at 5 am – for a few brief minutes – I can regain a little bit of the calm, the anticipation of the day to come, the newness from those early mornings at the lake.

Confession

I’m an intelligent, educated, confident, professional, socially-conscious woman… and I watch crap tv.

Well really, I watch one crap tv show.  The Bachelor/Bachelorette.  Yes, it’s a trainwreck.  Yes, it’s terrible.  It’s a terrible, terrible trainwreck and I watch the damn thing every week.  Other, intelligent, educated, confident, professional, socially-conscious women I know watch it too.  And then we all talk about how terrible it is.

Maybe I watch it because it kind of reminds me that no matter how awkward I am, no matter how many times I’m completely oblivious to someone flirting with me or trying to pick me up, I’m not that bad.  That at least I’m not on some television show, displaying all my insecurities for the entire world to see, as I pretend to date a bunch of dudes in the hopes that one will still like me in the end, before our relationship meets its inevitable end and we just stay together as long as we are contractually obligated.  I’m not that bad.

Or maybe it’s just a hugely entertaining trainwreck and I’m a huge fan of Schadenfreude.  Perhaps we’ll never know. 

Sorry this is so short.  I work tonight, so it’s off to bed for a little nap for me.

On Being an Adult

I just had to reach out to my Facebook network to ask if I could match a sweater to a pair of pants.  See, a congresswoman is coming to my office on Wednesday, and I’m part of “giving out directions to visitors” committee.  So I definitely need to look like a responsible adult.

Facebook is awesome.  I can get my friends to tell me how long to boil beans, what shirts match what pants, and if I should be concerned about flaking bricks on my building.  I honestly don’t think I could live on my own if not for online help from people who are more adult than I am… or from support from people who are just as clueless as I am. 🙂

Anyway, apparently grey pants and a brown cardigan are totally acceptable together.  Who knew?  I certainly didn’t.  This is why I need help doing hard grown-up things like “dressing myself”.  Otherwise I would look kind of like a jobless hippie most of the time.

Next up, I’m totally learning how to put on make-up.  That should make for some exciting blog posts.

I guess I really am that short

I went to the Green Music Festival here in Chicago last night.  Great bands, overly expensive beer, and more fedoras than I could count.

Now, I’m not usually the kind of person who needs to see the band who’s playing.  I just need to be close enough to hear, and I usually find a place out of the way off to the side where I won’t get run into if I happen to close my eyes (usually, at some point, I will close my eyes).  Last night, at the headliner (Yo La Tengo), all those spots were filled with people who appeared to come just to get drunk and talk to each other.  Here’s a tip for those people:  the beer is a lot cheaper at the grocery store, and you can just as easily talk someplace else where everyone around you isn’t trying to listen.  Maybe you should go there.  (Overheard: “I don’t really care about this next band, Tango Sur”.)

So last night I had to move up a little closer to the front than I usually do, and get right in the crowd… where I discovered I really am that short.

A little background:  I am 5’4.25″ inches tall.  In college, a group of my friends started a private club for short people, I was actually too tall (by that quarter-inch) to be a member.  Many of my friends today are actually shorter than me, so I frequently am tricked into thinking I’m on the tall side.

Last night was my rude awakening.  I swear I was surrounded by the tallest people in the world.  Like I said, I don’t mind not seeing the band, necessarily, but when I’m below armpit level of every person around me and all I see are torsos, it can be a little overwhelming. 

I finally asked the 8-foot tall dude and his 7-foot tall girlfriend in front of me if we could switch places… at which point they actually apologized for being tall and in front of me.  After I got the dude’s attention of course, since he couldn’t hear me from way up where he was.

Lesson: get there early enough to be close and not have to feel like an 8-year-old surrounded by grown-ups.

Apparently, I’m lazier than I thought…

Remember that 7 posts in 7 days thing?  Yeah, that’s workin’ out really well, isn’t it?  Looks like I’ll have to double post one of these days. 

On to other things:

A list (because I’m writing this in about 15 minutes before I head out to more live music that I’m paying for instead of groceries (it’s my new thing this summer).

1. I heart new music… not even brand new, necessarily, but new to me.  I bought a few new albums this week and I’m probably garnering my share of stares on the bus because I listen with my eyes closed and probably bob my head a lot. 

2. I spent all day with my nieces today… not even all day, like 5 hours.  A is about a month old and C is 2.5.  I’m exhausted…. I don’t even know how parents do this all day every day.  Also, I love those little red-headed girls more than I though it was even possible to love another person.  At one point today, I was sitting in an easy chair, under a pile of nieces, and I thought my heart might burst.

3. No matter what time I plan on taking the Metra down to the homestead, I will inevitably be late enough that I am sprinting down the street to the station.  Today I was lucky enough that the conductor opened the doors for me.  Maybe because I was having a mini cussing fit outside the door when I realized I didn’t make it.

4. I love summer in Chicago… there’s so much music and street fests and awesome stuff going on.  It’s already made up for that nasty blizzard that shut most of the city down for a day this winter.

5.  This might be the most boring blog post I’ve ever written.  Probably no one is even reading it at this point.

6. I am also writing the whole thing without wearing my glasses.  Things are pretty fuzzy right now.

7. Did you go listen to my former classmate’s music yet?  Because you should.

8.  I probably could’ve stopped at 4 or even 3.  Well.  Now there’s 8.  I’ll go out and try to do something socially awkward tonight to tell you about.  Don’t worry, I’m sure it will happen.

9.  I’m so sorry for this crappy post.  I’m tired, apparently blind, and haven’t eaten in a really long time.  Time to carb up for some festival-going!

7 posts… 7 days

So this one time, I was like, “Hey, really ridiculous things happen to me on a regular basis.  What if I write them all down in a web-log-type format so other people can read it and laugh, thus bringing me fame and prestige?!!?”  And so I wrote some posts… some were funny, some were not.  One was REALLY popular because it was about the CTA and everyone loves to hate public transit.

And then, inexplicably, I stopped writing.  And I’m sure my fan was all, “WHAT?!!?”  And the truth is, there’s no real reason except 1) I am sometimes kind of lazy and 2) no, there’s really no #2.  I’m just sort of lazy sometimes.

So.  Here we are.  And you’re reading this and probably thinking, “Dammit, can’t she at least draw us a poorly assembled stick figure?”  And the truth is, no.  Not today I can’t.  But good news!  My dad (who is awesome) got me a little mini mouse for my laptop (it is seriously adorable) and I think that will make for much easier picture drawing.  Not better, mind you, just easier for me.

But you get no pictures today… today is my first of 7 posts in 7 days.  Because it’s been so long since I’ve written anything, I’m going to write something every day for a week.  Mostly it will probably suck and you can feel free to skim it.  Just don’t leave mean comments.  I’ll just delete them.  Free speech doesn’t exist here.

And now, for your reading pleasure:
What I’ve Been Doing Instead of Writing a Blog

1)  I went on vacation.  WOOOO!  At the end of May, I drove up to visit college friends in the Twin Cities, MN.  It was lovely and I’d love to share pictures with you, but I’m the kind of person who always has a camera and forgets to use it… so I literally have less than 10 pictures of my entire 3 days there.  And most of them are of weird stuff I saw on the way up from Chicago.  I was lucky enough to show up the day a former classmate of mine, Adam Svec, was having a show for the release of his 3rd album.  Adam and I took a music composition class together 10 years ago in college… obviously he’s doing way better than I am now.  Anyway, I highly recommend you go here: http://www.myspace.com/389706157 and listen to his latest album and then go here: http://drawfirerecords.com/store.php and buy his music.  (except that 2nd link doesn’t work… but he’s on iTunes, I’ve heard). 

2. I worked.  A lot.  At both jobs.  And am super tired all the time.

3.  I met my newest niece, A.  She is about a month old, beautiful and I can already tell she’s very intelligent.  🙂  And of course, I also played with little C, who loves her auntie and just might be a genius.

4.  I decided tickets for music festivals were more important than groceries this summer.

And…. that’s about it.  Hopefully something fun will happen to me tonight so I have something to talk about.