Last week, on Thursday maybe, I went with A. and her bro Z. to Ardmore's Milkboy Coffee to see Alec Gross play some music. L. and C. and M. were there too, it was a regular high school faced bonanza. Seth Kallen also played, but A., Z. and I left pretty soon into his set.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Sing A Ling
Last week, on Thursday maybe, I went with A. and her bro Z. to Ardmore's Milkboy Coffee to see Alec Gross play some music. L. and C. and M. were there too, it was a regular high school faced bonanza. Seth Kallen also played, but A., Z. and I left pretty soon into his set.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Corny on the Cobby
I bought corn for our barbeque, but didn't remember to actually grill it, which left me with 8 ears of corn. I boiled two at some point last week and liberally applied sour cream, salt, parmesan cheese and lime juice to the cobs, and a little chipotle tabasco on one of them.
Hot Walk
The last week or so has been consistently sticky hot. One day last week seemed a little cooler and so I thought I'd take a walk along Kelly Drive. I was wrong, it was still really hot. I walked by Boat Row.
I saw a heron of some kind...which was awesome.
I sat on a stone bench and looked at the river while next to a, perpetually it seems, empty and forlorn fountain/pool. I saw a giant wasp carrying a cicada...and became scared by said wasp when it turned and started making a bee-line (heh) towards me.
But then it went up the side of the curve instead.
I saw a heron of some kind...which was awesome.
I sat on a stone bench and looked at the river while next to a, perpetually it seems, empty and forlorn fountain/pool. I saw a giant wasp carrying a cicada...and became scared by said wasp when it turned and started making a bee-line (heh) towards me.
But then it went up the side of the curve instead.
Wine c/o WineO
Last week A.S. and I went to WineO. J., the Bard grad I met at the Dollar Store Reading, emailed me to let me know that a friend of his, and others, were reading at the establishment, and I thought that would be a properly literary thing for me to do. We sat at the bar for a littl while and had a nice enough Pinot Grigio.
I photoshopped the hell out of this photograph.
The reading itself was, well, I'm thankful that J. contacted me because I do want to get out there and get a little more connected to people writing things I like...but this was really just not it. It was also more of a members-only event, specifically designed (as far as I could determine) for the Temple MFA program. Every one has their own vision. Every one has the right to write whatever they like. I guess I just felt, rather strongly actually, that the three different readers we heard were still working on perfecting their voices and stories in rather major ways (which is not to say that I am not still perfecting my voice and story nor that there comes a moment when that impulse should be extinguished). Sigh. I had other thoughts or feelings, but I realize that they were all negative. Also, the bartenderess was a bit off-putting.
I photoshopped the hell out of this photograph.
The reading itself was, well, I'm thankful that J. contacted me because I do want to get out there and get a little more connected to people writing things I like...but this was really just not it. It was also more of a members-only event, specifically designed (as far as I could determine) for the Temple MFA program. Every one has their own vision. Every one has the right to write whatever they like. I guess I just felt, rather strongly actually, that the three different readers we heard were still working on perfecting their voices and stories in rather major ways (which is not to say that I am not still perfecting my voice and story nor that there comes a moment when that impulse should be extinguished). Sigh. I had other thoughts or feelings, but I realize that they were all negative. Also, the bartenderess was a bit off-putting.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Bucks County Country, Part II
After the tubing we dropped by a gallery where Mr. Ass had a few paintings up (I have tried to remember the gallery's name, but cannot) so that he could varnish them. This was, I think, my first experience watching a painting be varnished. Pretty simple, I guess, but kind of crazy. I mean, why doesn't any of that paint get moved around when something liquidy is brushed on it?
After that we returned to Mr. Ass's house, where we picked basil from the garden (he picked most of it because I got too busy taking photographs).
The corn really was as high as an elephant's eye.
We then turned the basil into pesto.
And then I took a photograph that really is almost exactly the same as the one I took last summer.
While I really just wanted to sit on Mr. Ass's back porch forever, I realized that I had to get home before all the parking spaces were taken, so, reluctantly, I left.
After that we returned to Mr. Ass's house, where we picked basil from the garden (he picked most of it because I got too busy taking photographs).
The corn really was as high as an elephant's eye.
We then turned the basil into pesto.
And then I took a photograph that really is almost exactly the same as the one I took last summer.
While I really just wanted to sit on Mr. Ass's back porch forever, I realized that I had to get home before all the parking spaces were taken, so, reluctantly, I left.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Dilly Burger c/o Dilly's Corners and Hardly-Any-Proof-Tubing
As I have mentioned, I planned to go and camp on the Delaware shore this past Sunday/Monday, but that ended in total failure. When I woke up on Monday I was determined to get the fuck (pardon me) out of dodge. So I emailed Mr. Ass and asked him if he knew of any nice swimming holes in Bucks County country. He couldn't really think of any proper swimming places but mentioned that there was always tubing. I then convinced him (with very little effort) that he should come tubing with me, and a plan was born. Before going tubing we stopped at Dilly's Corner for lunch. Mr. Ass ordered a cheesecake yogurt and coca cola float (as well as food), which I thought sounded disgusting...and I will never know if I was wrong because I did not try it. I can say that Mr. Ass seemed a little let down.
I ordered a Dilly Cheeseburger with tomato, it was delicious. Liberal with the mayo, cheesy and a nice sized patty (though lacking a little in seasoning).
Then we went tubing c/o River Country. There is no hard evidence of this, however, because I did not think it was a good idea to take the camera on the Delaware River. I sunscreened the hell out of myself and ended up not burned at all, which is a minor miracle...perhaps my ironic Gap visor (not pictured but in total effect) was the key...or spraying sunscreen on every part of me, whatever. The closest thing I have to proof is the photographs I took once we ended our two hour float. A running theme of the summer: me in my bathing suit (but hiding my gut, of course), making funny faces in a pretty setting.
So much pretty river-ness, just a little more than an hour away. Why does it take me til the end of summer to realize all I could be doing?
Above is proof that Mr. Ass was there as well...in his relaxed state. This was exactly what I needed: new places, cool water, sun, and a pal. Somehow tubing by oneself seems sad. Kind of like watching movies in a theater by oneself (which I don't really think is sad, I mean really) or sitting at a bar alone (that, too, doesn't have to be sad, though I haven't done it since I first moved to Chicago). Wait, none of that is sad per se, that was just my cultural conditioning coming out. Stupid conditioning. Sad is babies in wells or wet kittens...or the last unicorn...now that is sad.
I ordered a Dilly Cheeseburger with tomato, it was delicious. Liberal with the mayo, cheesy and a nice sized patty (though lacking a little in seasoning).
Then we went tubing c/o River Country. There is no hard evidence of this, however, because I did not think it was a good idea to take the camera on the Delaware River. I sunscreened the hell out of myself and ended up not burned at all, which is a minor miracle...perhaps my ironic Gap visor (not pictured but in total effect) was the key...or spraying sunscreen on every part of me, whatever. The closest thing I have to proof is the photographs I took once we ended our two hour float. A running theme of the summer: me in my bathing suit (but hiding my gut, of course), making funny faces in a pretty setting.
So much pretty river-ness, just a little more than an hour away. Why does it take me til the end of summer to realize all I could be doing?
Above is proof that Mr. Ass was there as well...in his relaxed state. This was exactly what I needed: new places, cool water, sun, and a pal. Somehow tubing by oneself seems sad. Kind of like watching movies in a theater by oneself (which I don't really think is sad, I mean really) or sitting at a bar alone (that, too, doesn't have to be sad, though I haven't done it since I first moved to Chicago). Wait, none of that is sad per se, that was just my cultural conditioning coming out. Stupid conditioning. Sad is babies in wells or wet kittens...or the last unicorn...now that is sad.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Cheese, Tomato and Meat Plate
The Sunday after the barbeque I had all sorts of half-cocked plans...mainly that, since I was taking Monday off, I would drive to the Delaware shore, camp in a state park and swim in the ocean all day. The major flaw with this set of plans was that reserving a beachside (or near beachside) campsite in the summer time is not something one does at the last minute. And, it seems, hotel rooms in that same area were going for $150 to $200 a night, just too rich for my blood. This fundamental setback to the beach/camp/swim plan, coupled with the EX-treme heat of Sunday, led me to not do much that day...other than agonize over how little I was doing.
I did, however, eat a bit. If you can believe it. Slices of tomato, thinly sliced honey ham, hard salam, relatively fresh mozzarella and the end bit of truffle cheese I found on sale at Whole Foods. While I was seriously disappointed with myself and my lack of getting out of the city, this was a nice snack.
I did, however, eat a bit. If you can believe it. Slices of tomato, thinly sliced honey ham, hard salam, relatively fresh mozzarella and the end bit of truffle cheese I found on sale at Whole Foods. While I was seriously disappointed with myself and my lack of getting out of the city, this was a nice snack.
Monday, August 17, 2009
New Roommate Barbeque
Today marks the second full week that my new roommate, S., has been in Philadelphia. We are, thus far, living very well together. In fact we had a barbeque on Saturday that was quite successful. I made my artichoke dip and the spicy chipotle/cilantro hummus that I've become quite proud of.
S. is big on grilling, so I left all the meat choices to him (though I did contribute some pork tenderloin). He fired up the resident porch grill and his faithful grill so he could cook meat and non-meat items simultaneously.
He stuffed the pork with granny smith apples and I think the chicken thight had mango going on.
Mmmm. Pork with Granny Smith Apples and a little sea salt.
Steaaaaaaaaak.
He-J., she-J, S. and N. came to the barbeque, which made me happy because I wasn't sure that they'd make it. S. did a little weight lifting and change grabbing in my room.
Then he got wasted. That is a joke. No children got wasted at our barbeque, no matter what the photographs appear to show.
Then I got all taking-pictures-of-kids-happy.
N. liked the water on his head at first, but quickly changed his mind when he realized his shirt was going to remain wet.
F. and S. photo opportunity.
One of S.'s friends brought cupcakes, they were great.
As S. and N. can attest.
F. did some magic tricks with coins and pens.
I asked for a photograph of J. and myself because I don't think I have any photographic evidence of our ever being in the same place at the same time since I moved to Philly, except for all the pictures I take of her kids, which is not quite the same.
It was a great afternoon and evening. Wonderful food, good company, and a night that, for me at least, ended at a reasonable hour.
S. is big on grilling, so I left all the meat choices to him (though I did contribute some pork tenderloin). He fired up the resident porch grill and his faithful grill so he could cook meat and non-meat items simultaneously.
He stuffed the pork with granny smith apples and I think the chicken thight had mango going on.
Mmmm. Pork with Granny Smith Apples and a little sea salt.
Steaaaaaaaaak.
He-J., she-J, S. and N. came to the barbeque, which made me happy because I wasn't sure that they'd make it. S. did a little weight lifting and change grabbing in my room.
Then he got wasted. That is a joke. No children got wasted at our barbeque, no matter what the photographs appear to show.
Then I got all taking-pictures-of-kids-happy.
N. liked the water on his head at first, but quickly changed his mind when he realized his shirt was going to remain wet.
F. and S. photo opportunity.
One of S.'s friends brought cupcakes, they were great.
As S. and N. can attest.
F. did some magic tricks with coins and pens.
I asked for a photograph of J. and myself because I don't think I have any photographic evidence of our ever being in the same place at the same time since I moved to Philly, except for all the pictures I take of her kids, which is not quite the same.
It was a great afternoon and evening. Wonderful food, good company, and a night that, for me at least, ended at a reasonable hour.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
I Spend My Life Consuming Stories
More than a month ago A. recommended (and lent me) Anne Michaels' The Winter Vault. It took me a while to get into the characters and story. I read it in bursts and that may have impacted how I related to and understood the plot. The principle relationship in the book is between a husband, Avery, and a wife, Jean. The story opens along the Nile, in Egypt, in 1962 (
1964?) and ends in Canada, with a number of other locations, Poland for example, heavily explored. There were a lot - a lot, a lot, a lot - of scenes with two people being in bed sharing long conversations about their past, stories of Warsaw's destruction and reconstruction through the eyes of a Jewish boy who grows up to be an artist living in Toronto and knowledge of plants comes into play. There are beautiful lines in this book and small moments that pack a punch, but there is also just a lot of remembering. It's funny that I feel this way about reading memories, since memory and nostalgia is a theme on which I like to touch in whatever little creative thing I have going on, but reading characters' rememberances for pages at a time became tiresome. It may just be as simple as my thinking that the nature of the conversations couldn't possibly be that meaningful and heavy all the time. There were very few moments of joy, and when they happened they were very quiet somehow. This line set up, simple as it is, was lovely to me:
"Jean led Avery a small way up the slope. They stood by a scattering of stones. Standing next to him, looking down at the river flowing in the white light of the generators she said: This very place we stand is where you first learned we will have a child. And she smiled at Avery's astonished face."
One of the reasons my progress on Winter Vault was so slow was due to my also deciding to re-read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I noticed Rowling's tendency to use people's hair as characterizations of their personality/inner life and thought it lazy. Still loved it. Kind of thinking about reading it again, but I'll hold back and try to read another grown up book.
A. also lent me the first season of Gossip Girl. What a ridiculous show. Chuck Bass continues to amaze me.
I watched the first two thirds of Wendy and Lucy and then the disc started skipping. I wanted to know what happened but I haven't actually asked for a replacement disc. Definitely on the bleak realism side.
I really enjoyed The Visitor. All the actors were really good and it wasn't overtly a political statement about the U.S. policies on illegal immigrants. The characters really stuck with me.
I'm jumping on The Mighty Boosh Bandwagon. It's funny and absurd and I laugh and laugh.
I watched the first season of This American Life as well. Though I haven't lived in a house with Showtime in pretty much ever, I found that I had seen a number of the episodes, or fragments of the episodes, at some earlier time. That night, my dreams were narrated by Ira Glass. I remember feeling comforted by this.
I also watched Demetri Martin's Comedy Centeral show. I laughed and laughed. I mean, not every jooke is super funny but the funny is right there often enough.
And that's all I've watched or read.
1964?) and ends in Canada, with a number of other locations, Poland for example, heavily explored. There were a lot - a lot, a lot, a lot - of scenes with two people being in bed sharing long conversations about their past, stories of Warsaw's destruction and reconstruction through the eyes of a Jewish boy who grows up to be an artist living in Toronto and knowledge of plants comes into play. There are beautiful lines in this book and small moments that pack a punch, but there is also just a lot of remembering. It's funny that I feel this way about reading memories, since memory and nostalgia is a theme on which I like to touch in whatever little creative thing I have going on, but reading characters' rememberances for pages at a time became tiresome. It may just be as simple as my thinking that the nature of the conversations couldn't possibly be that meaningful and heavy all the time. There were very few moments of joy, and when they happened they were very quiet somehow. This line set up, simple as it is, was lovely to me:
"Jean led Avery a small way up the slope. They stood by a scattering of stones. Standing next to him, looking down at the river flowing in the white light of the generators she said: This very place we stand is where you first learned we will have a child. And she smiled at Avery's astonished face."
One of the reasons my progress on Winter Vault was so slow was due to my also deciding to re-read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I noticed Rowling's tendency to use people's hair as characterizations of their personality/inner life and thought it lazy. Still loved it. Kind of thinking about reading it again, but I'll hold back and try to read another grown up book.
A. also lent me the first season of Gossip Girl. What a ridiculous show. Chuck Bass continues to amaze me.
I watched the first two thirds of Wendy and Lucy and then the disc started skipping. I wanted to know what happened but I haven't actually asked for a replacement disc. Definitely on the bleak realism side.
I really enjoyed The Visitor. All the actors were really good and it wasn't overtly a political statement about the U.S. policies on illegal immigrants. The characters really stuck with me.
I'm jumping on The Mighty Boosh Bandwagon. It's funny and absurd and I laugh and laugh.
I watched the first season of This American Life as well. Though I haven't lived in a house with Showtime in pretty much ever, I found that I had seen a number of the episodes, or fragments of the episodes, at some earlier time. That night, my dreams were narrated by Ira Glass. I remember feeling comforted by this.
I also watched Demetri Martin's Comedy Centeral show. I laughed and laughed. I mean, not every jooke is super funny but the funny is right there often enough.
And that's all I've watched or read.
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