Ramblings on Sarah

It's sort of cold today. The fall weather reminds me of a different time in Wisconsin; a simple time, when the men chopped wood and the fair maidens cooked stews. Autumn leaves fell on the ground and the children played hoop and stick, with not a care in the world.

Oh my god, I'm kidding. I think I mixed up a few different time periods there. And I don't care about historic Wisconny. In fact, I can't even handle historic Wisconny, or historic anything, for that. I saw a commercial this morning for Old World Wisconsin. I remember learning that an ex-boyfriend's friend worked there as a cook and not thinking anything of it. But really...this is one of those historic recreation places! Who can even take that seriously?

Let's have a look at their website...

Discover teams of oxen and horses working in the fields, the farm folk preparing hearty meals over wood-burning stoves, and the heirloom plants in well-tended gardens. Stroll through the Crossroads Village and chat with the town blacksmith or the keeper of the general store. Discover the true spirit of early Wisconsin.

Yuck. I absolutely will not chat with the town blacksmith. I just can't deal with stuff like this. On my awesomely sexy Summer Vacation 2008, Sarah and I had the bright idea to go to the Plimouth Plantation. That's their stupid spelling, not mine. The first part was actually really really cool. There was a movie about the Wampanoag tribe who lived in "Plimouth" before the stupid settlers. We visited the Wampanoag village, where native people worked and spoke about their lives from a present day perspective. That was effing awesome.

Then. THEN we went to the settlers village, where the "historic reenactment" was taking place. Men in stupid hats walked around saying "Good morrow, fair ladies" and women in aprons "went about their work" while Sarah and I did our best not to giggle. Although there was the moment of "okay, okay, stop laughing. We have to try and take this seriously," we didn't last more than 3 minutes. Mostly, we snuck into the houses and took pictures with the various historical props...

Here is Sarah, sleeping in ye old bed, made of straw:

Here I am, peeking my head through ye olde curtains:

Henceworth was Sarah, who drinketh from thou mug, full of ale aplenty:

This is me, preparing ye olde stew. To quote my genius friend Mark, "delciouse, twoulde be a blessinge in mine mouthe if ye spareth a crumbe"

Sarah churneth ye olde buttere:


Anyhow, you get the point. We kept "getting caught" as we posed for these genius pictures though; mostly it was little kids and their families, barging into the houses, but once it was one of ye olde ladies. Whoops a daisy. We had to get out of there, and fast.

Experiences like this remind me of how much trouble Sarah and I have doing anything serious. Fortunately for us, we were both music majors in college, which meant that we shared many music classes together. I think I also convinced her to take a Political Science class with me, which she ruled (and I drooled) over. Oh, and Human Biology! We were lab partners in our freshman year class, dissecting a mink that we named Carnie (1. after Carnie from Wilson Phillips, 2. after the Spanish word for "meat," since our mink was the meatiest/fattest in the entire class). We also did a project on the urinary system and named our poster presentation "Urinary, I'm a Nary." Sarah took many for the team - when we had a class about testing urine for some reason, she was the one to pee in the cup because I was grossed out and embarrassed. And on the horrific day that we were to dissect a cow eye (probably one of the most nightmare-ish experiences for me, ever), I cowered in the corner while Sarah completed the entire project. What a hero.

The music classes were a different story. Sarah and I sat through music theory classes and music history classes, barely making it through each day. We had a beautiful, wonderful teacher named Max Yount...

I stole the picture from Lynn...Thanks Lynn!

Max caught on pretty quickly that Sarah and I couldn't really keep it together, ever. He'd purposely interject little hilarious tidbits into his lectures, just to get us going. I will never forget the day he taught us the term for the original Baroque trombone...Sackbut. He'd mention it once or twice in lectures for the next three weeks or so, pausing before and after he said it, letting his eyes travel around the classroom until they settled on Sarah and I. "Some people like to call it....the Sackbut..." He'd look sort of amused, and sort of triumphant, waiting for our reaction. We'd giggle and tip back in our chairs, like two effing five year olds.

So in conclusion, Sarah and I can never go to or learn about anything historical or scientific, ever. That's that. But when it comes to playing Misfits and GNR and NOFX covers on the cello and piano, I'd highly recommend us.

What Did I just Take?

So the recovery from the Lanai Party was relatively easy, with the exception of the all of a sudden leaky pipes under my kitchen sink. Ew, that sounded like some kind of sexual metaphor. Grody. Anyhow, the pipes were leaking anytime water went down the drain. There was a giant puddle under there, and I think it smelled a little bit funny...grody again.

Yesterday, I thought I'd try my hand at being a fix-it-lady, and leaned over to take a closer look. I gingerly touched a pipe with one finger, and water sprayed out everywhere. Obviously, this is not a job for me. I'd probably cry or something, a la the Bat Incident.

Anyhow, lucky for me, I've got Xiao and Tell for landlords. Xiao, the real fix-it-lady, came in this morning to take a look...

Xiao (as he has his head under the sink): You're sick! You're sick in your nose!
Me: Yeah, I've been sick for a bit
Xiao: Okay, okay, hold on. I will get medicine for you
Me: Oh, that's okay, I have some...

Too late! Xiao is already scampering down the stairs to his car. I watch him from the window as he paws through a large backpack. He them scampers back up.

Xiao: Okay, this is traditional Chinese medicine. It's from my mother. She takes care of herself, she knows what's good.

He hands me a little package that looks like this:



Me: Okay...thanks...what do I do with it?
Xiao: Oh yeah, I don't know, let me read it.

He then shines a flashlight on the back of the package (although the sunlight was coming in through the window 3 feet to his right) and reads silently to himself.



Xiao: Okay, now you take 6 of these, and then you take a nap. Later you take 6 more, and again, 6 more before bed. It will be gone tomorrow! You will see!

And with that, the sink was fixed and I had 18 new pills to take. They looked kind of like yellow M&Ms, I think...



So I took the six of them. And I guess we'll just have to see how this goes...

The Lanai Party

So the lanai party was a success. People came and went from about noon until ten. I received a couple of gifts, one of which (pictured below) aided in some performance art/healthy snack making. I convinced a few people to stop saying stupid words like "porch" and "deck," and switched them over to the obviously smarter and sexier term, Lanai. So basically it was a good time. Here are the highs and lows or something...

I was sick, so, because I'm so effing considerate of your feelings and health, I cooked with a bandana over my face. I looked like a burglar I think.


This resulted in some delicious Monkey Bread


On the day of the Lanai party, Genia brought me flowers! What a great boyfriend I have! Wait....yeah...I don't know.


Gwen called me the other day to let me know that she was, at that moment, in possession of a JACK LALANNE JUICER!!!! One of her clients had one, and wasn't sure what it was or why she had it, but she didn't want it anymore. Because Gwen cannot accept gifts at work, she needed to donate it! Now, I am a total sucker for infomercials; I've never actually bought any of the stuff I've wanted to, but I will say that I'm the proud owner of a Magic Bullet. And now, my friends, I am the proud owner of a JACK LALANNE JUICER as well!

So, the JACK LALANNE JUICER made it's appearance at the party and was sitting in a box in the kitchen for a few hours. Matt (who is absolutely the best party guest EVER) inquired about it, asking if I planned on setting it up. I think it went like this:

Matt: So are you going to set that up sometime during the Lanai party?
Me: Probably not, Matt. I'm feeling pretty lazy today.
Matt: Is that because you need help setting it up?
Me: No, I probably just won't set it up
Matt: Well, if you needed help setting it up, I'd help you set it up
Me: Are you looking for a project? Did you want to set up the JACK LALANNE JUICER?
Matt: Yes, please, I would like that.

And set it up he did. Here he is with his awesome assistant, Gaian, setting up the juicer on the Lanai. Also Gaian wore my sunglasses. Awesome.


Getting the congratulations he deserves.

Also, Gwen and Linda had brought two apples and two carrots so we could give the old juicer a spin. You know, it really worked well! And carrot apple juice taste pretty good...exactly like carrots and apples! The best part was the chanting that happened as Matt and Gaian fed the fruits and vegetables into the juicer:

JUICE! JUICE! JUICE!
USA! USA! USA!
DRILL! DRILL! DRILL!

I swear, I'm only friends with absolute geniuses. And hot people. All of my friends are hot geniuses.

Some smartass labeled all the rooms in my house. I don't understand this, but I feel like it was maybe Greg or Lisa or Eric?






Matt, the Best Party Guest Ever, also made robot costumes. What a busy guy. Here is Wall-E and Eva. Or was it Eva and Eva? I forget. But who knew boxes and cases of beer worked so well as robot heads and bodies?




There was some serious rocking on the piano. I'm pretty sure this was the part when they were doing the piano solo of "Estranged" by GNR...


And then, of course, there was the aftermath. Imagine the smell of beer, tomato juice, and hummus in the air. Slightly barf-inducing at 10 am. Which, yes, was first thing in the morning for me. Don't judge.




So yeah. It was good. The lanai is lovely. My friends are lovely. I was very much full of love, for the most part, and slightly delirious from being sick and not having really eaten in a couple of days. I'm thinking this may just be the way to host from now on though. When you're all sick and pathetic, everybody else does all the work for you. It's probably the way to go...

The Day of The Awesome

Here are some things some of my students said today:

Me: Your haircut looks nice, J.
J: Thanks, Reem. Thanks for not giving me a hard time about it.
Me: I would never give you a hard time about anything, J. And I really do like your haircut.
J: Well, sometimes haircuts are embarrassing. Like when that stupid lady cuts it too short.

****

A: I hate oatmeal. Oats shouldn't go in food, oats should go in horses.

****

Me: How was your day, T?
T: I never said it was good.
(later)
Me: How is this song going, T?
T: I never said it was going good.
(more later)
T: I'm not stupid like I used to be, you know.

****

Also, there was this woman who had twins with her, maybe about 14 months old, both of whom had giant puffy heads of hair. They toddled around, waddling, kind of like somebody who's new to walking. Arms straight out. little steps...you know? Anyhow, they both had pacifiers in their mouths, and as they were walking around aimlessly, they both started crying. Both pacifiers fell out of their mouths at the same time, and they kept walking around in circles, bumping into things, and crying. I don't know why, but it was the funniest thing ever at that moment. I started laughing so hard that I had to close the door to my studio. Laughing at crying babies! What's my problem?

****

Other things about today...

I had a snack of apple slices and crackers and shared them with my last 6 students. We all kept calling it "Snack Day." Those kids love the apples.

My boss asked me to "approve something" when I had a break. It turned out she wanted me to see the new giant posters we're going to hang in the studios. She needed my opinion on whether we should have a poster of a piano only, or a person playing a piano. I approved of "whatever...I don't really care."

One of my students said that she felt like we were friends. But also a teacher and student

I got free coffee, and they got the good creamer again.

In conclusion, I love working at an art center. My job rules.

More Than You?

I'm going to give you some percentages...

80% percent of the time, I wake up with a song in my head.
50% of that time, it's a song I've never heard before, and just one line or a couple of measures are being repeated over and over
30% of the time, it's a tune I already knew, but there are made up words that my brain put with the tune

So this morning was in that 30% part. I had this song in my head from one of the piano books I teach out of. It's called "Love Somebody." It's this simple 8 measure song that uses maybe 5 different notes...a beginner's song. I think there might be words written to it in the book, but I'd made up my own words in my sleep apparently. They went like this:

Jesus loves me, this I know
Cuz the bible told me so
Jesus loves me, yes it's true
Jesus loves me more than you

Is this something? Was this really a song? Or part of it maybe? I'm so confused...

DO THIS NOW

Please check my sister's blog and help to stop the execution of Troy Davis.

Getting All Co-op-y

So...I read this book about eating and nutrition that I'd heard about on Ellen (no joke). It's called Skinny Bitch (I hate the title) and it's supposed to be about eating healthy. And it was really kind of stupid; the authors are obnoxious as all hell and totally going for some kind of "in-your-face" attitude. Bored.  But it did talk about eating vegan and organic, which is something I think about very little.

I stopped eating dairy earlier this year because I thought maybe my constant headaches were a result, for some reason. It was one of those brilliant self-diagnosing moments of genius. But soon after, somebody who gave me a massage told me I probably get headaches because I "hold my shoulders like a fucking vice." This was later confirmed by a real massage therapist who said my upper back was full of "road bumps," which is what was probably causing my headaches. Anyhow, I got to eat dairy again. I like dairy a lot. It pretty much rules. When I was avoiding the dairy, I had all these great ideas for non-dairy recipes that always turned out only alright. I'm not the greatest cook in the world, so trying to substitute ingredients and make shit up was not my finest moment. So basically, I don't love the idea of being vegan, what with all the dairy love, but sometimes I think about it...

In the book, the authors talk a lot about why you shouldn't eat animal products. Those horror stories always affect me for a few days, but then I'll inevitably need some sort of grilled sammie with meat in it, or a giant sausage pizza or something. It doesn't last long. In my heart, I really don't think that not eating animal products is something I'll ever do completely, but today, I had the motivation to at least look into it. There's a billion meat/dairy substitutes out there. No, they definitely do not "taste the same" as the real thing, but it's an honest effort that I can appreciate. The best part, however, is the names of these products. For example...

Not Dogs - fake hot dogs
Tuno - fake tuna
Bologno - fake bologna
Tofurky - fake turkey
Gimme Lean! - a fake ground beef product, I think named to sound like "Jimmy Dean"
Meatless Meatballs - no explanation necessary
Steak Style Strips - um...yeah.
Fakin' Bacon - fake bacon

And I know these aren't fake meats, but:
Tofutti - ice cream-like stuff
Fig Newmans - organic fig newtons. hilarious!

Maybe that's why I'll never take being vegan seriously. Because of Not Dogs. I mean, come on!

On Pooping

For some reason, every time I go to Macy's I have to poop. The first time I was with my sister, browsing clothes and taking our damn time shopping. All of a sudden it hit me. I had to poop. And I hate pooping in public. But then it happened again, the next time I was there! What the eff? Why always Macy's? Why is it always me and like three old ladies in the bathroom, and I'm waiting for them to leave so I can finally poop, and they're all slow and talking about somebody named "Gail" or "Martha" or "Estelle" and they use a billion paper towels and don't leave me alone?

Then there's the other places. Like...ahem...Cool Beans coffee shop near the Easte Towne Malle. I hate it here, but I had no choice. I had a cancellation and needed some caffeine and to check some email, so I came here. And now I have to poop. This is just perfect.

There was this one time I had been visiting my sister in Atlanta. She'd dropped me off at the airport and I was on my merry way to the gate when I realized I had to poop. Now, don't get me wrong...I don't love pooping at airports, but of all the public places to have to poop, the airport is not too bad. It's loud, and there's usually a lot going on in there, and the doors are usually high or low enough to keep it all somewhat discreet. So, okay, I go to poop. I sit down on the throne, do the business, and flush. To my horror, I hear a strange noise. I look down only to see the water (and whatever else may have been in there) slowly rising to the top of the toilet bowl. My mind goes blank for a few seconds until I shake my head a bit to wake the eff up. I hear a voice in my head...

"Just go."

I grab my shit and book it out of the bathroom. I'm at the door when I hear water splashing on the floor and a woman exclaiming "Oh my holy god!!!"

Whoops a daisy. My bad, dudes. My bad.

I returned about 15 minutes later because I was practically barfing at the fact that I hadn't been able to wash my hands. Everything was calm, quiet, and clean. I washed my hands and got the eff out of there.

And I wonder why I hate pooping in public...

Laughing at the Misfortune of Others

In the last five minutes, the following happened:

1. A girl is walking in the crosswalk at Park and Dayton and totally bites it. She falls down, right on her booty, drops her bag in the puddle, and three of her friends stare down at her, waiting for her to get up

2. A beer delivery guy (Coors, I think) drops a case of beer on Regent St. and cans go flying everywhere. One can is on its side, spraying beer out of it in a steady stream.

I try really hard not to laugh, because I know, I know, something will happen to me next. But I can't help it. I laughed my ass off.

And what happened when I got to work? I dropped my purse in an effing 3 inch deep puddle. What's weird is, I'd zipped it closed, which I never do, and I had my camera and wallet and checkbook and all this stuff in there that can't get wet. Weirds. But yeah, I dropped it right in the most giant puddle ever to exist in the parking lot of my work.

It's like...it's raining today, and people just don't know what to do with themselves. I couldn't figure out how to get dressed today. I actually - and I swear to you I'm not lying - put my underwears on backwards and didn't realize it for a good 4 minutes.

The kids are also in a total daze today. It's like they're walking around bumping into each other and ricocheting off each other, turning in another direction, waiting to bounce off the next person. Nobody knows what to do! Get your act together, ya boners!