tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54910412011-12-09T00:50:40.884-06:00..Forty-Four Sunsets.."Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?" But the little prince made no reply.
Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.comBlogger4861100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1161298782458638822006-10-19T17:57:00.000-05:002006-10-19T17:59:58.673-05:00compensatingIn an effort to bring myself out of the trauma-induced funk of yesterday, I have been listening to this fantastic Yann Tiersen song. You should as well.My mom would be proud--this time I'm compensating with a good song played on repeat, versus a bucket o' whiskey. Oh, yes. Just the picture of balance and mental health.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1161268849769125042006-10-19T09:33:00.000-05:002006-10-19T09:40:49.796-05:00realityA man got hit by a truck just outside of the bakery yesterday afternoon. He was apparently a bit intoxicated and sort of jumped out into the path of an oncoming roofer's pickup--I didn't see him actually get hit; when I looked out the door, he was on the ground with blood literally pooling under his head. We called 911; there were several passers-by already attending to him, but we Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1161102462733683972006-10-17T11:12:00.000-05:002006-10-17T11:27:42.766-05:00the ongoing effort to be continually awareI don't think it's just that I'm "turned about and overwhelmed by tiny happenings" and am thus moved by matters that would be inconsequential to others--moments in time just make themselves so clear and I can't but be totally taken aback by them. Last Saturday night I was in a bar in Columbus, Ohio, midway through a ridiculous roadtrip with two of my Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1160522436128164732006-10-10T17:54:00.000-05:002006-10-10T18:20:36.186-05:00Hands-down creepiest work encounter thus far.One of the jerkiest things ever said to be by a customer was last winter, when a guy who looked like Christopher Walken came in one morning just as I was unlocking the door and flipping the 'open' sign. He scowled at me when I told him that he'd have to wait about 2 minutes for the breakfast fritatta because sometimes not everything is ready right Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1159835555789542042006-10-02T19:25:00.000-05:002006-10-02T19:32:35.790-05:00self-medication, or, "why a hypochondriac should not keep a blog when she actually gets sick"After much discussion amongst my roommates and many consultations regarding the nature of the subject, I have come to the conclusion that alcohol does have some medicinal properties. Other than the obvious Civil War-esque cleansing of wounds, I will remain staunch in the belief that whiskey is a practicalElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1159816704986571882006-10-02T14:01:00.000-05:002006-10-02T19:24:51.383-05:00turning over a new leafI have, historically, touted myself as sort of an evangelical existentialist. I knowingly accept certain Fundamentals but, at the same time, recognize life as something far too precious and too exciting to be bound up in guilt and/or legalism. Existentialism works well for someone like me, fascinated as I am by the minute beauty of the day-to-day. It's a justification forElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1159403159710878162006-09-27T18:27:00.000-05:002006-09-27T19:26:11.383-05:00a telling moment, brought to you by the 'A' Sisters.I'm comfortable with my body. When I was a chubster--really, my whole life--humor has been a defense mechanism against insecurities of any sort. But when I say that I have a good self-image, believe it. Enough people have expressed their preference for the skinny, quirky type that I'm pretty happy to NOT have a rockin' stripper body. (Also, my Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1158886871494411532006-09-21T19:56:00.000-05:002006-09-21T20:01:31.510-05:00Leaving problems where they belongI came into work in a nominally-foul mood due to extenuating circumstances on the homefront. No cause for alarm, nothing earth-shaking, just a missed connection the night before that rankled enough for the blue skies and the cold wind to have no positive effect on me.The morning girl packed up her stuff as I arrived and she chose to take a brioche tart rather Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1158798564502808592006-09-20T19:12:00.000-05:002006-09-20T19:29:24.543-05:00the Garden at dawnOne of the stories in John Biguenet's book, The Torturer's Apprentice--which I've written about before and last week, for the first time in several years, felt enough of an aesthetic connection to someone to muster up the confidence to recommend it--is about a man who shares a meal with his secret daughter. ('Secret' because her mother is married to a friend of his and no one Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1158707911851131532006-09-19T18:18:00.000-05:002006-09-19T18:18:31.873-05:00Today has been a continuous assault on my nostrils.I don't consider my olfactory sense to be the keenest of the five, but smell conjures up such strong associations in me, and my nostrils will be among the first to flare at the smallest sign of trouble.A woman came in this afternoon wearing a particularly noxious scent; of course she decided to order grand portions of food and loll indolently at Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1158682754535902162006-09-19T11:12:00.000-05:002006-09-19T11:19:14.556-05:00Forever finding ways to get out of copyeditingMy deadline is looming but have I begun this month's worth of copyediting? Well, yes. But my progress has been dreadfully slow and characterized almost fully by two frustrated hours of staring at incorrect citations and then a week and a half of ignoring them completely.This, my friends, is poor time management for a freelancer.I spent the majority Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1158597725703230062006-09-18T11:39:00.000-05:002006-09-18T11:42:05.733-05:00Quotes and books and autumnal thoughts"It is bitter for the young to see what awful innocence adults grow into, that terrible vulnerability that must be sheltered from the rodent mire of childhood.Can we blame the child for resenting the fantasy of largeness? Big, soft arms and deep voices in the dark saying, 'Tell Papa, tell Mama, and we'll make it right.' the child, screaming for refuge, sensesElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1157680806244245682006-09-07T20:38:00.000-05:002006-09-07T21:00:06.466-05:00Back to schoolThe bakery reopened today after a two-week haitus. Walking in the door was like the first day back at school; all of us hugging each other and laughing and catching up on the past weeks' gossip (of which there was a lot, believe you me). It's utterly ridiculous, how fond the employees of the bakery are of each other. I felt as though I should be opening up a fresh pack of pens Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1157292423425595842006-09-03T08:34:00.000-05:002006-09-03T09:07:03.450-05:00it's a tricky business, trying to recreate something wonderful.Never so clearly seen, obviously, as in the movie business; I'll not attempt to touch the subtleties that mark the successes and falls of trilogies in the film world. It's moments in time that I'm talking about: intense conversations with people who you gather together again and again in hopes that the former connection will spark Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1157049297018245552006-08-31T13:33:00.000-05:002006-08-31T21:10:11.290-05:00In other news,My hair has, I feel, reached the apex of its largeness. At least the apex of what is acceptable to me.Come on, Craigslist free section; hook me up with a haircut NOW.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1157041123613388362006-08-31T11:03:00.000-05:002006-08-31T13:33:34.530-05:00"...what with all the shenanigans and goings-on"I've reached the midpoint in my vacation and have realized a grave error: I should have either found some other job to occupy me during these 2 1/2 weeks, or I should have traveled somewhere (i.e. the farm) to break up the days and give myself some perspective of elapsed time. Not only has each day blended into the next, but my own sense of Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1156382707815743492006-08-23T20:01:00.000-05:002006-08-23T20:25:30.576-05:00Chicago's optometry worldI fell asleep with my contacts in the other night. I know it's bad--I know that protein deposits will build up on my eyballs and I'll eventually go blind from it--but sometimes, you know, you fall asleep on top of your covers after several drinks and you wake up at 3:00am, fully clothed and groggy, and you really just lack the motivation to actually get up and change, Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1156257893023350982006-08-22T09:30:00.000-05:002006-08-22T09:44:53.046-05:00entertaining people in the cityIt has recently struck me that my oft-mentioned priest fantasy may not ever come to fruition. Why not, you ask?It's complicated.The most recent reason, though--the one which prompted this posting--is my own rediscovery of how much I dislike entertaining visitors. Most visitors, that is; lately I've been taking a lot of joy in the fact that many of the people who Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1155919714806396712006-08-18T11:38:00.000-05:002006-08-18T11:48:34.853-05:00motivationI do believe in a karma of sorts. There is the smokers' karma (where, if you yourself are generous with your cigarettes, bumming them off of other people will inevitably be more successful), the road rage karma (maintaining your own equilibrium and control will, more often than not, rub off on otherwise-frenzied drivers), and I'm sure others that I'd think of if I spent more than a fewElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1155250379645414972006-08-10T17:49:00.000-05:002006-08-10T17:52:59.656-05:00More work-related humor. Kelly and I were in the basement this afternoon doing inventory and discussing the relative merits of keeping a bottle of vodka in the basement freezer when she opened the freezer door, peered in, then pulled out two frozen slabs of pork. "Stop right there, or I'll clobber you with my loin!""Hey. Don't you touch me with your loin; who knows where it's been?"Then she Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1155169999401830632006-08-09T19:26:00.000-05:002006-08-09T19:33:19.416-05:00Missing outI read in the paper today that this Saturday is the peak of the Perseids meteor shower; it's a little sad to think that I could lie outside for the entirety of the night and probably not see a single meteor. There were, of course, many negatives about living in the country as I did for almost 10 years, but the night sky is something that I do miss.There was this hilltop near my house Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1155021318546410862006-08-08T02:00:00.001-05:002006-08-08T02:21:20.903-05:00Playing an endless game of catch-upThe past few days have disappeared in a massive flurry of boxes, errands, and a distinct lack of sleep. I moved this weekend (am now living with six other friends down near the bakery) and now, having gained the perspective of 48 hours, am quite prepared to say that renting a U-Haul and getting everything packed in one go has got to be less painful than trying Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1154617372895723722006-08-03T09:54:00.000-05:002006-08-03T10:02:53.026-05:00a boring tale of woe involving rain, infection, and slippery stairsSo yes, it's cooler today. And for that I'm thankful. Since nothing is perfect, however, I chose this day--the day of rain and the dawning of my own suspicions that this sore throat I've been nursing for the past week and half might be strep throat or tonsilitis.I like to think of myself as a somewhat self-sufficient person. Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1154573635419464272006-08-02T21:46:00.000-05:002006-08-02T21:53:55.470-05:00an abjectly humiliating confessionFor the past two or three weeks, I've toyed with sharing this via blogspot, but each time have second-guessed myself for reasons of dignity and pride. Now, however, I'm finding myself backed into a corner and forced into a moment of truth. Please be kind. Please don't judge.Recently I've noticed a, well, a certain distinctive smell in my room. Possibly the Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1154559269119464902006-08-02T17:33:00.000-05:002006-08-02T17:54:29.236-05:00Interpersonal Communication 101:Don't throw out a cheezy and nominally-creepy pickup line if you think there's any chance of seeing that person for more than 15 seconds. And for god's sake, don't do it three times in a row.I dropped off a bunch of stuff at the Salvation Army on my way to work this morning; when I got there, there was a group of guys loading up the official "take it away and sortElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1154490702448376552006-08-01T22:47:00.000-05:002006-08-01T22:51:42.460-05:00Today's been very much a bartender day--bartender in that, as today's temperatures skyrocketed to record-breaking heights, everyone came into the bakery in a complaining mood. As I stood behind the counter listening to their heat-related tales of woe, I felt like I should have a towel over my shoulder and should be nodding my head gravely as I wipe up spilled beer and empty ashtrays. Everything'sElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1154288500795211282006-07-30T14:23:00.000-05:002006-07-30T14:41:41.390-05:00it's all a matter of taste, I suppose.Last night, after an evening of Rachmaninoff and swanky outdoor venues, I dropped by several parties and made an effort at socializing. Usually, at least recently, this practice hasn't been much of an effort at all--I have found myself spending time amidst strangers and acquaintances with relative ease--but last night (perhaps due to the aforementioned Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1154278500845036982006-07-30T11:49:00.000-05:002006-07-30T11:55:00.863-05:00a moment of decisionSo, Pitchfork Music Festival is this weekend. I bought tickets for today and yesterday--The Mountain Goats are playing, along with Jens Lekman and The National and Yo La Tengo--and I've been looking forward to it for a while. But I might not go. There's a rather strong thunderstorm going on at the moment, which, according to the weather channel online, will continue for the Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1154189004610215112006-07-29T10:46:00.000-05:002006-07-29T15:06:27.986-05:00DreamsNo one wants to hear about other peoples' dreams. They're irrelevant, usually inappropriately long, and most of the time not meaningful at all, except to the dreamer. But I want to tell someone anyway. Ben and Brooke are away for the weekend, so it's got to be the blog.In the last week, I have dreamed about:1. Nazis with stilettos, lining a group of us jews up and telling us that they willElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1154127475563410092006-07-28T17:45:00.000-05:002006-07-28T17:57:55.713-05:00Zombies and Syringes: this is a normal workday, right? Weird worktime today. The whole place was full for the majority of the afternoon--if you've ever been to the bakery, you'll know how rare that is--we had tables of old jews, young punks, bachelorette pre-partiers, and Greek families.The table of old jews (high school friends of my boss' mom) were, predictably, high maintenance; their tip was Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1154103101186541732006-07-28T10:50:00.000-05:002006-07-28T11:11:41.293-05:00...Since being a functional adult in the practicalities of life is, apparently, impossible for me... I tried to accomplish something this morning, I really did. Since my most recent contract at the publishing company ended, I've had my mornings free and have made a concerted effort to be productive in the hours before noon.This doesn't always happen. There are a myriad of excuses and Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153973332623779192006-07-26T23:05:00.000-05:002006-07-26T23:08:52.626-05:00I'll send the cavalry.This old man came into the bakery today and told me, as he was ordering, about how yesterday he was having chest pains and so he went to the doctor's to see what was going on. They gave him an echiocardiogram and then immediately took him to the ER in an ambulance.A heart attack? Close enough that today, having checked himself "the hell outta that place," he cautioned me as Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153890664545718232006-07-26T00:02:00.000-05:002006-07-26T00:11:04.583-05:00When a born instigator meets fellow instigators, chaos inevitably follows.But good chaos. "Utter chaos," as it's been said before. My friend Steph--aforementioned bagpiper extraordinaire--and I were to meet in Lincoln Square post-work today. It so happened that today has been beastly hot, hot to the point of not being able to eat; hot to the point where one is forced to mosey down the street (Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153793133214539992006-07-24T21:03:00.000-05:002006-07-24T21:05:33.233-05:00The wedding of horror, or, Why I Hated High SchoolSo I went to a wedding this past weekend; it was the wedding of a friend from high school who I haven't seen (or really spoken to) for nearly 3 years. A few months ago, she wrote me a surprising email, asking me to be one of her bridesmaids. (Is it an closed-minded idea that one's bridesmaids should be people with whom you have an emotional Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153435955056485212006-07-20T17:50:00.000-05:002006-07-20T17:52:35.056-05:00Spanish is a crazy language.Oliver told me today--after I showed him my arm, where they shaved for the tattoo and where the hair has just started to grow back--that in Spanish there's a different word for head hair (cabello) and body hair (bellitos). "Little hairs," they call them. Or just "bello," which, he explained to me, also means "cute."As someone with a paranoia about my own Eastern Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153435820162701382006-07-20T17:39:00.000-05:002006-07-20T17:50:20.280-05:00The bakery is boring when it's raining outside.There are the occasional visits from patrons suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorders--they come in, their eyes blank, for a chocolate-induced endorphin rush--but mostly people choose not to brave the elements; they stay in their offices or in their homes and rely on one of the numerous Thai and pizza places who deliver.All day long, Kelly and I Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153404056354063762006-07-20T08:48:00.000-05:002006-07-20T09:00:56.480-05:00"...just in the background somewhere..."One of my favorite Dick moments in the movie High Fidelity is when the three guys are at Lounge Ax watching Marie DeSalle doing her set and talking about how they want to date/live with musicians. Rob mentions wanting one of their little inside jokes to appear somewhere in the liner notes, to which Barry says, "Maybe a picture of me in the liner notes" and Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153200048308033392006-07-18T00:01:00.000-05:002006-07-18T00:20:48.420-05:00On my day off.I'm sitting outside at a bar in Lincoln Square, an ashtray and a glass of quickly-warming beer on the wrought-iron table and my books and notebook spread out in front of me. I am trying to acclimate my body to the heat. This is a practice which never works--I run too hot to begin with--but it doesn't keep me from trying. I suspect that it has something to do with my fondness for Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153107076558188472006-07-16T22:09:00.000-05:002006-07-16T22:31:16.676-05:00Now I'm no meteorologist,but I'd categorize today's temperatures as "hellfire and brimstone." Perhaps even hotter. Had to cover the Sunday shift at the bakery today; as a result of the constant running around and the proximity of the main counter to the espresso machine in all of its mechanical heat-generation, I was in a state of sweatiness from 8:30 am until nearly 3:30 pm. This is, of course,Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153007001002405502006-07-15T18:41:00.000-05:002006-07-15T18:43:21.016-05:00"It's even better than I imagined!"As promised: drive-by piping pictures.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1153004591581312592006-07-15T17:57:00.000-05:002006-07-15T18:03:11.596-05:00(blogging--compulsively, as I do--at various locations throughout the city.)Not sure why it is, exactly, that I feel the urge to participate in the physical act of writing at arbitrary intervals during the course of any given day. It's not one of those pretentious "I write because it is the air I breathe" things--I can visualize a life without constantly writing (although not one devoid of it Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1152918005712330952006-07-14T17:51:00.000-05:002006-07-14T18:02:48.730-05:00It seems as though the bakery is perpetually "the right place" to be;since I'm in there all the time, the laws of probability are in my favor and I have consistently found myself to be in that often-touted "right place at the right time."That's actually how I got my job at the publishing company; more and more often when I'm telling people what it is that I do, I come across other impoverished Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1152759879518624642006-07-12T21:55:00.000-05:002006-07-12T22:04:39.626-05:00[it's getting hard to think up new subject lines for Marshall McGearty's-related posts]So, since of course My Favorite Places in city are My Favorite Places because they're so incredibly great, I attended a party at Marshall's tonight for their opening of a new line of cigarettes, the Samsun Straits.While I have yet to actually try one--I'll take it on faith that they're good, but will clearly Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1152676793843873122006-07-11T22:33:00.000-05:002006-07-11T23:00:10.230-05:00Before and after, or, "Hey, ya got some work done, huh?"So, I did it. Got the tattoo. I've wanted to get it for a while--it's the end of the priestly blessing in Numbers (the blessing that God gave to Aaron, who in turn gave it to the rest of the Israelites) that says, "the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace." I wanted it on my forearm, because I am moved by the idea of Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1152587209498484412006-07-10T21:29:00.001-05:002006-07-11T09:16:44.146-05:00The Pied Bagpiper of ChicagoThose moments when you find yourself caught up in a situation that's so absurd and fantastic, you suspect that you're actually in the midst of a bizarre enchilada-induced dream and will wake up any second?That was my afternoon.I received an email from my friend Steph today, asking me if I wanted to meet in the park after work... because it was, according to her, a Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1152508491649485252006-07-10T00:10:00.000-05:002006-07-10T00:14:51.663-05:00Because, as I've said, I'm unable to carry a train of thought without thinking about how it could somehow be incorporated into writing...I was driving home from an impromptu backyard barbecue and passed a Dominick store whose Liquor sign was partially broken--all it said was "quo" and I thought to myself about how I'd add that detail into some story I will write when I'm a successful and Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1152477616259601042006-07-09T15:37:00.000-05:002006-07-09T15:40:16.270-05:00Geeking out for a moment here,I found a fantastic sentence in one of the essays I'm copyediting:"Through all his wanderings, the authors observe, 'he was never afraid to tackle new fields,' an intrepidity that freed his books . . . from disciplinary arthritis and gave them a vigor of analogy compensating for the difficulty of his ideas."Intrepidity? Disciplinary arthritis? Outstanding.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1152434532043682532006-07-09T03:26:00.000-05:002006-07-09T08:45:47.926-05:00So in this book,this book that I have been reading (today) for the second time this week, the author spends quite a bit of time on her description of the characters' aesthetic tastes; their clothes, their furnishings, the material possessions with which they choose to surround themselves.It's led me to re-examine my own aesthetic tastes, particularly--today, at least--in regard to clothing. I'veElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1152314261479524282006-07-07T18:03:00.000-05:002006-07-07T18:17:41.563-05:00Pillow Book thoughtsI spent this morning--like the previous three, decadently--reading in a sidewalk cafe in Lincoln Square. Today's book was Whitney Otto's A Collection of Beauties at the Height of Their Popularity, a book I've read before but which never ceases to draw me in with its characters, their observations, and their lifestyles that appeal to me more and more. In an existentialist 20-Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151956490829677632006-07-03T13:58:00.001-05:002006-07-03T14:58:42.303-05:00Because when all is said and done, I'm a total girl.I learned many years ago how to change the oil in a car. I was dating a very mechanically-minded guy at the time, and it was out in the cowfields of Pennsylvania where everyone is pretty self-sufficient, so one afternoon our date consisted of him teaching me how to change the oil in my car at the time and pointing out to me the various basic Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151882735952944042006-07-02T18:15:00.000-05:002006-07-02T18:25:35.963-05:00gee, mom, layovers are FUN!Being the jetsetting kind of girl that I am, I'm in the Charlotte airport. Three hours 'till my flight; when I got here, I had grand plans to tear it up, airport-style, until the plane leaves for Chicago. By "tearing it up," I of course mean three hours of copyediting in a corner somewhere, surrounded by cartons of uber-cheap duty-free cigarettes that I'd purchase here,Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151784933199425552006-07-01T15:13:00.000-05:002006-07-01T15:15:33.210-05:00"'Long ago, the delicate tangles of his hair covered the emptiness of my hands.' Would you like to hear it again?"Damn it all, no one here thinks I'm funny. Even the Joe Vs. the Volcano quotes aren't making a splash, as it were, in this hawaiian-themed party.Someone hand me the punch bowl and a ladle; if they don't think I'm funny, then at least the rum will help ease my pain.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151780654581821262006-07-01T13:53:00.000-05:002006-07-01T14:04:14.626-05:00vacation timeIt's my dad's 50th birthday and Ben, Brooke, and I flew out to Pennsylvania on Thursday to surprise him. We're only here for 2 1/2 days, but the whole thing has been largely successful so far (he was surprised) and good times are being had by all.My parents live in a little town with a chocolate factory in its center; as a consequence, the entire place smells like a Hershey-induced Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151473337250459132006-06-28T00:33:00.000-05:002006-06-28T00:42:17.260-05:00Here's to musicians who always make me cry when I'm tired. I love Antony and the Johnsons. It's as simple as that. On my return drive from a bar--where I confessed to a friend that, yes, many years ago I did, in fact, engage in a debate regarding the inherent sexiness of Rob Thomas' voice versus Dave Matthew's voice (I took the Rob Thomas side, although the thought of merely participating in Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151387418615087052006-06-27T00:37:00.000-05:002006-06-27T00:50:18.663-05:00...because my life is all copyediting and concerts...The Detholz! played Schubas tonight, and far be it from me to shirk two concerts in three days--I went with high expectations of raucous times. Those expectations were fully met; I mean, the guys were fantastic per usual (lucky me, to have friends who are legitimately talented musicians and whose music I don't have to pretend to enjoy) but thenElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151359975958167002006-06-26T17:03:00.000-05:002006-06-26T17:12:55.963-05:00Self-conscious pretentionsI went to a show at Schubas the other night and, not having anything to do in the few hours between work and the concert, decided to go a little early. Sitting by myself in a bar with a book and a glass of beer is, to me, an always-enjoyable pastime. I ended up taking a copy of some of William Carlos Williams' poetry and it struck me, upon being asked what I was Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151359418722983532006-06-26T16:55:00.000-05:002006-06-26T17:03:38.830-05:00Wallowing, as usual, in lovely depressive musicThere was a recent article in Pitchfork (or maybe on the Asthmatic Kitty website) about Sufjan Stevens' upcoming July release, The Avalanche, b-sides and songs that didn't make the final cut on the Illinoise album. I'll be honest: I think that Sufjan could sing me the McDonalds value menu and I'd love it. Still, the idea--as it was stated in the Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151288033166633952006-06-25T20:43:00.000-05:002006-06-25T21:13:53.263-05:00The idea of moving to the citynever scared me. Although I could count on one hand the number of people I knew here when I moved up, I was fairly confident that within a short amount of time I'd have a steady social circle.This was quite obviously an act of self-deceptive bravado on my part. Being naturally introverted--along with a disturbing tendency to break out grandpa-style jokes and absurd Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151286203144234542006-06-25T20:35:00.000-05:002006-06-25T20:43:23.196-05:00Walking to workmost days is uneventful; weekday mornings in Andersonville aren't terribly busy. Walking to work at 10:00am on a Saturday during popular outdoor weekends like PrideFest, however, makes for some epic people-watching.My favorite was this guy who looked like the love child of Chalupa and Sam Beam--he had a shaved head and a huge Whitman-esque beard and was wearing Carharts--riding a Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151089219269765252006-06-23T13:59:00.000-05:002006-06-23T14:00:19.286-05:00Update:it was probably just hunger. I'm fine. Now a weekend full of weddings and work and concerts and dancing and illicit drink smuggling is stretching ahead of me......might just take a quick nap first.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1151020919038946122006-06-22T18:56:00.000-05:002006-06-22T19:02:46.243-05:00My hands are shakingand I don't know if it's lack of sleep, lack of food, extreme overcaffeination, stress, or a hint of melancholy.Sometimes--and it's always towards the evening hours, when I've been on my feet and aggressively cheerful all day--I get tired of being philosophical and self-sufficient. Sometimes I'd like a shoulder to lean on. Sometimes I'd like to sit with someone in agreeable Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150938388420354932006-06-21T19:56:00.000-05:002006-06-21T20:06:28.470-05:00A desire for things of the pastA comforting feeling, to find yourself spending time in the company of friends with whom you can waste an entire afternoon drinking beer and watching Adult Swim cartoons. Kevin and I spent this past Sunday doing that very thing and then, when we were comfortably tipsy, went outside and sprawled on the grass beside the road, smoking cigarettes and looking up at the Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150867448495428082006-06-21T00:07:00.000-05:002006-06-21T00:27:11.776-05:00It's come to my attention (again) in the past two hoursthat I might very well be the epitome of chintziness. Admittedly, I've always known that I've had these tendencies. Even when I was making above a 7-11 salary, I've been frugal with my money. Now, living in a relatively expensive city, I find myself stressing over the price of bus fare or whether or not I'll have enough money for dinner. Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150818857342930832006-06-20T10:48:00.000-05:002006-06-20T10:54:17.403-05:00...because we think we're funnyeven though we only know approximate quotations and a rough plotline for the movie we both saw once about 12 years ago.I was leaving the house last night, compensating for feeling sick by wearing badass scruffy jeans, a biker shirt, and fake pearls. This is what happened:[Ben, upon seeing me walk towards the door] Um, have fun in Las Vegas with Randall Flagg.[me, Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150663489485789372006-06-18T15:14:00.000-05:002006-06-18T15:44:49.543-05:00Work frustrations (or, anal copyeditor tears out her hair over margin errors) How upsetting. I'm working on this essay right now by a professor at the University of New Brunswick who apparently wrote his entire piece by touch-typing with his eyes closed. And his hands behind his back. And a monkey dancing on his keyboard.The margins are irreversibly screwed up--I've been messing with them for Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150556097087979222006-06-17T09:20:00.000-05:002006-06-17T10:34:09.116-05:00recklessness and waterYesterday was complete and total beach weather. While part of me still grieves the fact that this fall marks the sixth year in which my day-to-day is lived out in such a solidly midwestern state, Chicago has become more and more attractive. I can definitely understand the people who say, "I came here thinking I'd only stay for a year or so. Now, 8 years later..." Living Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150463332818663602006-06-16T07:51:00.000-05:002006-06-16T11:27:11.026-05:00¡Calmese, tirón! One thing I really appreciate about the winters here in Chicago--and my public transportation experiences during them--is how safe I feel, layered as I usually am in sweaters and scarves and a coat.Now that it's summer and solidly into the season of wearing less clothing, I have discovered that the row of mechanics who always sit outside of their garage on the Northside aren't Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150341326881985732006-06-14T22:11:00.000-05:002006-06-15T08:55:22.966-05:00Conundrum:Sure, I know that I should probably wash all of the clothes I bought at the Vildo before I wear them. And obsessive-compulsive Elaine--the one who forces me to keep a family-sized bottle of hand sanitizer in my purse at all times--is screaming and thrashing her limbs in a violent effort to keep me from PUTTING ON THOSE POSSIBLY INFECTED CLOTHES!But they fit me, unlike the rest of my Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150338909511956652006-06-14T21:30:00.000-05:002006-06-14T21:35:09.523-05:00When being easily entertained can put you in a difficult position.A guy came into the bakery as I was putting the chairs up at the end of the day. Normal middle-aged businessman type--candy-striped collared shirt, pleated pants, vaguely pear-shaped body--and began perusing selection of pastries at the counter.Typical-looking guy, but as soon as he opened his mouth, I couldn't stop myself from Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150292570694088352006-06-14T08:36:00.000-05:002006-06-14T08:42:50.723-05:00The day-to-day of my bakery...After a long and detailed discussion last week about the value of kitschy highway attractions on roadtrips--as well as the surprising saturation of them in Wisconsin and, consequently, my love for a certain Wisconsin dairy product--one of the regulars brought me a present yesterday. Cheese curds, I do enjoy you. Blissful dairy coma to follow.Later on, an Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150213077569469942006-06-13T08:36:00.000-05:002006-06-13T10:37:57.666-05:00When you get too caught up in your reading.The other day, my boss lent me her copy of Jeannette Walls' The Glass Castle, a memoir she'd been telling me about for months. I took it with the resolute acceptance that it'd be maybe a month until I could be done with it, mostly because of how busy my work schedule has been of late.It has, however, turned out to be one of those books for which you takeElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1150159364243133542006-06-12T19:35:00.000-05:002006-06-12T19:42:44.320-05:00Tragic news regarding the baby's musical preferences.I've decided that a portion of every evening's babysitting will comprise of musical education--the baby should begin at an early age to appreciate the fabulousness of my favorite bands. Since I'll be leaving the apartment in September and my influence will no longer be an everyday thing, Grace would do well to embrace this chance to immerse Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1149869309890001222006-06-09T10:41:00.000-05:002006-06-09T11:08:30.513-05:00So, the Candy Expo.The whole thing was, as a college friend always used to say, "utter chaos." Utterly ridiculous, more like. When I got to the bakery yesterday morning with my usual purse (about the size of a laptop computer) emptied of its contents and ready to be filled with candy, I saw the bags that the other girls were taking and immediately felt inadequate. My coworker Kelly had, however, Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1149730758716771172006-06-07T20:34:00.000-05:002006-06-07T20:39:18.740-05:00Because, as I've said, I have the best job ever,I was informed this morning that I, as a representative of the bakery, am to attend a candy expo downtown tomorrow. For work.A CANDY EXPO. CANDY. EXPO. This is incredibly exciting news, even for someone without a particularly large sweet tooth; I'm bringing my largest purse (empty, obviously) in which to stash samples, and I have grand plans to Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1149692223776595882006-06-07T09:34:00.000-05:002006-06-07T09:57:03.970-05:00Obviously there's no one filming me here. There was a commercial that came out several years ago--for toothpaste, I think it was--where a beautiful girl looked out her apartment window and saw an equally beautiful guy taking out his trash. She grabbed a bunch of things at random (quirky and endearing, just like a Nora Ephron film) and stuffed them into a trashbag, brushed her teeth with the Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1149487309946810562006-06-05T00:54:00.000-05:002006-06-05T07:59:12.490-05:00...and so the streak continues.I have this thing. This thing where I'm almost proud of the fact that NO stranger, EVER, in the history of my going to bars--which has been a rather steady practice for the past five years--has bought me a drink.Bartenders don't count. If you're at a bar with your girlfriends and you wind up dancing to the all-request DJ (whom you force to play three hours of Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1149456108614479112006-06-04T16:00:00.000-05:002006-06-04T16:23:26.076-05:00The essay that I'm currently editing is written by a psychologist and a theologian and concerns our nature as embodied persons, as well as our own understanding of and reaction to our embodied experiences. Not surprisingly, they deconstruct the psychology behind personal sexuality:"Drawing on the writings of early object relations theorists, Jones argues that our categories for describing Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1149449252844083292006-06-04T14:20:00.000-05:002006-06-04T14:45:33.503-05:00In a strict mathematical equation,would receiving a free glass of wine (presented to me with a gentle and comforting, "Here you go, Elaine"), 12 cups of coffee, and a viewing of The Breakfast Club balance out spending $40 on five packs of fine cigarettes?Probably not. But who can put a price on pleasure? And my undying love for Judd Nelson supercedes such paltry things as money.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1149369708094219532006-06-03T16:12:00.000-05:002006-06-03T16:21:48.126-05:00work work work, play play play In school I was very much in acceptance of my life in transition; the fact that college was kind of an artificial reality. Because of that, it was easy to live moment by moment--thinking ahead to the next week, maybe the next semester, and beyond that a pleasant blur.Now I'm faced with the fact that I'm solidly in my present state with no real vision of any Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1149128503039990102006-05-31T21:06:00.000-05:002006-05-31T21:21:43.166-05:00A great huzzah for coworkers who make my mornings faster.I was banished to the Siberia of the publishing company this morning.Not for disloyalty or any sort of treasonous act against the publishing world; more because I'm the lowest person on the ladder there and if someone else needs my desk for any reason, then someone GETS my desk.And so I was sent to the far suite of offices and put in a Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1149013822639372592006-05-30T13:05:00.000-05:002006-05-30T13:30:22.783-05:00"I can't explain the state that I'm in; the state of my heart..." I have found, upon listening to Sufjan Stevens' Illinois CD, that I go through phases of listening to a particular track over and over. I've had this album since it came out and haven't gotten tired of it (perhaps because of my endless love for Sufjan and my absolute certainty of our inevitable matrimony) but there've always been Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148965434806833782006-05-29T23:59:00.000-05:002006-05-30T00:03:54.816-05:00it strikes methat while it's lovely to have certain holidays (such as this, Memorial Day) off of work, it would be fairly logical for businesses to grant their employees at least the first half of the next day off of work as well.Because sometimes one wants to go to late-night holiday parties, to partake of the annual barbecue-and-absurd-kung-fu-movie-fest tradition, to revel in the newly-high Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148832984618028932006-05-28T11:10:00.000-05:002006-05-28T11:16:24.636-05:00Remember how I'm bound by obsessive-compulsive law to talk about Marshall's whenever I'm here? I feel that it's not just my own obsession; I think it's because they are objectively wonderful people. And maybe it's because I get here soon after they open on Sundays, but whenever I arrive I'm greeted and helped by two or three people every single time. So nice. So luxurious.Today I decided to get Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148791714402390332006-05-27T23:39:00.000-05:002006-05-27T23:48:34.403-05:00here, the lights are always on.I was driving back from a party tonight with the upper half of my body gravitating towards the open window. It's the first legitimately hot day we've had this year and I was embracing wholeheartedly the feeling of driving barefoot with every single window rolled down as far as it would go and Sufjan singing me down the road.It struck me--leaning, as I was, towards Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148791186754905592006-05-27T23:32:00.000-05:002006-05-27T23:39:46.766-05:00I don't ask for muchYou want to know how to make me happy? I'll tell you. It's relatively simple: just allow me once in a while to enjoy the inconsequential, random things that I find entertaining (and sometimes suggest inconsequential, random things yourself) and I'll be pretty much entirely content.Yesterday my boss let me make chocolate-covered espresso beans, after one of our regulars bustedElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148652031375409462006-05-26T08:54:00.000-05:002006-05-26T09:00:31.386-05:00When lonely girls have political dreamsThe last dream I had before I woke up this morning was that I was walking down the street with the leaders of Sinn Féin as they were being interviewed. Interestingly, all of them were hunky Irish guys in their late 20s and early 30s. And though there were legitimate, accredited members of the press asking the actual interview questions, my presence proved toElainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148617919741103902006-05-25T23:24:00.000-05:002006-05-25T23:31:59.783-05:00the dark fantasies of an English nerdBecause of my personality, I nearly always have something running through my head for long amounts of time throughout the course of any given day. It's usually a song--even just the chorus of a song--that I'll sing to myself over and over for hours at a time. Sometimes the songs will be thematic: if I'm feeling sexy, it'll be one thing; if I'm feeling lonely Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148535478053295252006-05-25T00:26:00.000-05:002006-05-25T00:37:58.063-05:00Just another Wednesday night M&M wager...Sometime over the course of the evening, I mentioned (perhaps casually, or perhaps a bit more forcefully than what would be considered 'normal') that I was craving M&Ms in a rather large way. I believe "I could SERIOUSLY murder a bag of M&Ms right now. Like, a pound of them." was the actual phrase spoken.Brooke--always ready to seize the moment when I'm Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148527355960352032006-05-24T22:11:00.000-05:002006-05-24T22:22:36.110-05:00summer stormsWe're having a summer storm tonight. Last week it hailed for a few minutes--big pieces, maybe a third the size of my thumb--and I sat in my echoing car, laughing at the irregularity and the surprising power of it all.I've always loved storms. I remember as a child, standing by the windows of our house in D.C. with these old lace curtains wafting around me during thunderstorms, the Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148524857143315282006-05-24T21:11:00.000-05:002006-05-24T21:40:57.260-05:00TWO fabulous sightings in ONE day!First, the man standing outside the bakery. Picture this:-plaid fedora-greasy rat tail hair-denim jacket with bedazzles all over the shoulders and chest-flashy bling; what looked like a police badge encrusted with diamonds-Ray Charles sunglasses-cigarilloSecond, the elderly woman walking down the street with her husband. Ready?-sideways ponytail. Crimped.-pink Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148480814760127252006-05-24T09:06:00.001-05:002006-05-24T09:29:56.376-05:00Elaine's ElainianThis past Sunday my parents had a longish layover in Chicago on their way to San Francisco, so we all went out to dinner. As fairly new grandparents, they of course took turns holding the baby nearly the entire time, and a large part of the conversation was babycentric. In a discussion of Golden Books that we'd had as children--and that my mom is, little by little, going to find Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148356330913830342006-05-22T22:38:00.000-05:002006-05-22T22:52:11.026-05:00"I am tired... I am SALTY..."A 2:00 hair appointment allowed me to leave the publishing company early this afternoon--a nice break, since I spent nearly six hours copyediting on Sunday and by midmorning today, wanted never to see another Teacher's Edition language arts text for the rest of my life.To compensate for the afternoon off, I worked through lunch; a stupid idea for someone who really Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148241159656915012006-05-21T14:41:00.000-05:002006-05-21T14:52:39.696-05:00Utterly illogicalWhy is it, when I am jonesing for a cigarette in the middle of copyediting and have only two options of satisfying this craving, do I always opt for the harder one? My two options are these:1. open the door, walk down the stairs, and sit on the steps of our 3-flat. Elapsed time from craving to satisfaction: about 20 seconds.2. go into my bedroom, shut the door, open the window, Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1148092341910138832006-05-19T21:31:00.000-05:002006-05-19T21:35:15.843-05:00a softer world is fantastic this week:Last week it was quite relevant--loving skinny dipping, as I do--but this week is perhaps the best I've ever seen.Laughed for about a minute straight.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1147996664543954902006-05-18T18:39:00.000-05:002006-05-18T18:57:44.670-05:00we are just so diverse at the bakery.It's true that the majority of our customers are in the upper-middle class/yuppie/postmenopausal population bracket. Occasionally, though, we get the crazies and the transients and the more, hmmm, colorful demographic.Today this gorgeous woman came in the bakery--tall, statuesque, immaculately dressed--to order a late lunch. She sat at the counter and talked Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1147925356648851512006-05-17T23:08:00.000-05:002006-05-17T23:15:07.223-05:00It must be said though, upon further reflection,that today was kind of crap all the way through. WHERE WAS MY MOMENT? All I wanted was one; I don't think that's asking too much.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1147924378231893922006-05-17T22:29:00.000-05:002006-05-17T22:52:58.356-05:00When crap days turn into good ones simply by stepping outside.Crap day yesterday. It's always kind of shitty on Tuesdays when I'm by myself out front--not that there's necessarily a ton of work to do, but it's the fact that I'm forced to interact with EVERYONE who comes in or calls that's a bit wearying.Especially when those people need their hands held through the process of ordering a cake.I Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1147795032240142082006-05-16T10:55:00.000-05:002006-05-16T23:47:00.720-05:00"...and if you owned a shop, I would SO spray-paint the windows. I'm not even joking."This is what Brooke told me when she learned that she was being accused of anti-semitism in my blog. (She's cutting something out of yellow construction paper right now... I wonder what that is...)Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1147794947796715592006-05-16T10:35:00.000-05:002006-05-16T10:55:47.913-05:00The professional ramifications of being one of those people who finds it hard to turn someone downWhen I first moved to the city, I got a job working for a catering company. The company was, I think it's safe to say, the "lowest bidder" you hear about for any number of contracting situations. It was a staffing company and they would hire whatever crackhead walked off the street (not a figure of Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5491041.post-1147789291112916382006-05-16T09:16:00.000-05:002006-05-16T09:21:31.126-05:00Found out this morning that a third ex of mine is getting married soon. That's three out of, well, not dozens. This is a weird, roundabout kind of High Fidelity thing going on--catching up (even if it's second- or third-hand) with the past and finding out where certain used-to-be important characters in my life are now. Married, apparently. Bizarre.Elainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05518973993660092887noreply@blogger.com0