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| This week has been a slow one. Then again, it's probably good to lay back a little after our busy vacation. I pulled a couple different muscles that have needed rest. I feel so old and/or pretentious saying that, as if I'm an athlete or something.
Since S had a few days off, we rented a few movies to watch over the past week. She's become excited about finding cool Asian films to watch. I'll probably post a thread about this on Vagrant later on so as to get some recommendations. For all the talk you hear about Omaha being this burgeoning center of all that is Independent, the only videostores we have around here are Blockbuster and Hollywood, so our selection is limited. We'd go NetFlix, but we're quite sporadic in our film-watching: we may get 3 or 4 in a week, but then not get any more for a month. There's a comics shop that rents out stuff, but most of it is B-movie horrorshows or sexploitation stuff, which is fun to rent and make fun of once in a great while, but not regularly. Jason Morehead probably has a better Asian film collection than the entirety of the two chains in Omaha all put together.
The first one we watched was The Suicide Club, a Japanese film. This one definitely ranks among the creepiest films I've ever seen, fascinating yet a real mindjob. I'm terrible about summing up these things so we'll just go with a link:
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/1125611-suicide_club/
I can honestly say that I liked it, though some elements just didn't work for me. While the complexity of the plot was nice, it also wandered into confusion at times. The director seemed to enjoy throwing things in just because they seemed like neat ideas, not really minding that it derailed the film at times. In addition, he did a few different things in the film that were all done well, I suppose, but made it feel disjointed. For example, if you've got this crazy suicide epidemic going on, it's legimitately interesting to sometimes make it look kitschy and bubblegummy, but mixing that with other highly dramatic suicide scenes, while probably technically brilliant, also disrupts the film's flow (though I could easily argue that this was the best approach to keep the film from becoming a somewhat gorier, longer version of a television drama). At any rate, it was worth the hour and a half we spent with it.
The other Asian film we rented is Chung King Express ( http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/chungking_express/), which I've seen before and really liked. We haven't watched it together yet but I'm sure Stacey will love it. I'm sure we'll watch it this weekend and I'll have "California Dreaming" in my head for the next month.
We also rented Boys Town, one of those old classic films that, yes, is sappy and all that, but still a great film nonetheless. Much of it was filmed here in Omaha (home of Boys Town), of course, so some of the local museums have old pictures and mementos from the film shoots. For me, the film is great on a couple levels. First, because for all its quaint optimism, the film (reflecting Fr. Flanagan) questions the government's attitudes and inadequacies in dealing with homeless, impoverished, and troubled youth. This came at a time (the late 1930s) where the film industry was often working WITH the government, putting out films that claimed to be showing the evils of drug use, organized crime, etc. Watch Reefer Madness or the original Scarface sometime: they come right out and say, "This film is not meant to glorify or artistically portray _____, but rather to show the dangers and ever-growing threat." This film, then, and Fr. Flanagan for years before that, while never claiming that the government has a responsibility to deal with these kids, showed that their system for doing so was flawed and created even more problems. In that sense, then, the film is quite realistic, even in its somewhat Capra-like feel. Second (and this one is more personal), I think the film's a perfect example of how a work of art can deal with themes of faith in its centrality without coming off as preachy, heavy-handed, or morally aggressive. Remember, this film took place during a time when Catholicism was NOT viewed all that positively in the mainstream -- most people still associated it with poor immigrants and "anti-American" sensibilities. Other than a couple references to prayer, and of course a brief scene with a bishop, the film doesn't make a big deal out of the Roman Catholic aspect of things, but yet doesn't ignore it, either...a nice balance. Fr. Flanagan comes across as devout, yes, but even moreso he comes across as a good man, who without the collar could be of any religious flavor. Even more, though, he comes across as having a good balance of faith and intelligence, vision with enough hope to fuel it and enough wisdom to steer it. Sure, the film isn't a character study, but the characters are done well enough to make it worth watching. I've actually toured Boys Town, and it's a really neat place doing great things.
On my lunch break today, I get to go visit a claims office. This should be a blast. I'm hoping the stereo will be in next week, especially because a drive up to South Dakota with no stereo could be a real drag. I did order my new shoes, in case you're wondering...
http://www.zappos.com/n/p/dp/559472/c/8667.html
I would have preferred the brown shoe, but nobody had a decent one for a decent price. Believe me, I scoured the net, but I have a common shoe size and finding the wheat ones for just a tiny bit larger than my size was a near-miracle. They do have wheat ones with more brown in the design, but those are also impossible to find in my size. If you wear a men's 8, however, you can find pretty much anything.
Replies to comments:
First, thank you for the kind words regarding my stolen stereo. You're right, Jeff...this is proof we need to move there!
Thanks also to Kelly Anne for welcoming me back to Omaha, even though she doesn't live here anymore. : (
Mir said: "p------- wesleyan? as a kid, i always thought that church was cooler than mine. so their image-pushing worked on me!"
Well, they're definitely the biggest church down there, so I'm sure they have super light shows and the best Christian Karaoke in town....hehehe. By the way, the reason I'm dashing out the city's name is because I know people google things sometimes, and the last thing I need is someone sending me angry letters about their church. Actually, that would be kind of fun, but I'm trying to avoid those sorts of confrontations as much as possible these days. I guess I'm younger than that now.
Japanesecandy: I'm glad you found that thread, sorry for the bum link. We'll definitely be visiting Chicago again, we love the place.
dreamshade: I was going to ask you about bikes and advice on what to look for...not for me, but for Stacey. However, she has a few days off and went out to the Bike Rack out on the great Western Omaha sprawl and got herself a Mongoose bike for a really good price. I think today's the day she goes out and spends just as much on accessories as she did the bike. Any advice on stuff she'll need to keep around is still definitely appreciated.
And yes...Omaha doesn't have nearly the number of meth addicts as Council Bluffs, but we've heard about it enough on television that people are starting to get more and more interested in getting their own personal relationship with crystal meth. Also because it's cheap.
Even older comments I forgot to reply to:
missbunnie(LJ) said: "that is so funny about sureal. anytime we have peer editing i scribble that word out with a big NO!, and then write "if you can actually define it, then you may use it" or "unoriginal" or "if i was an editor at the chicago reader and i saw that word, this project would be in my garbage can with my falafal take out on top."
i'm ruthless. and i hate that word."
MMM, falafel...
Yeah, I'd drop the "if you can define it" line...I CAN define it, and I still try to avoid it. I always hated "peer review" in classes. I got very little help on my pieces, and usually ended up getting into debates with people over stuff they should have learned in junior high or high school.
missymrtn said: "I hate 12-14 year old girls. Unbearable little beasties. They should all be shipped off to boarding school until they're at least 25.
ps. Hi, Joel!"
Hi back to you! Is this your plan for your daughter when she gets this age? I have a love/hate relationship with that age group. On one hand, I think that most kids are at their most fun and discussive at that age, a really good balance of intelligence and impressionable. On the other hand, no child passes through the vail of early adolescence without being obnoxious and irrational in one way or another, even the really great kids! I remember I was this quiet, sensitive bookworm in elementary school who only liked to talk when it was about stuff I'd learned. Jr. High came and suddenly I developed all kinds of weird OCDs, masked depression, and ran around with my friends literally acting like mentally retarded people or knowitall Baptist evangelists. I'm not exaggerating one bit. Our Baptist school could hardly contain us. Anyway, girls are no better at that age, just better at hiding it. So uh, good luck with that! ; )
Thanks also to Seth for his nice wishes. | | |
| Sunday morning I went out to my car before going to church and discovered that the car stereo had been stolen. I hadn't used the car since early Friday evening, and Stacey used it a couple times Saturday morning, so it happened sometime Saturday afternoon or night, but we can't be sure exactly when (not that it really matters). A window was just a tiny bit open (less than two girly fingers), but that must be how they managed to get in. I normally keep the faceplate off, but since I'm not the last one to have used it, it may have been left on there....who knows, it doesn't really matter all that much. It's really just annoyance, more than anything else. I don't like spending my time talking to insurance claims adjusters and telephone cops, at least not about my own situations. I'm willing to accept that this stuff just happens. I have little doubt it was a fairly unintelligent white trash meth addict who did this, and stupid methhead crackers need to get money somehow. What gets me, though, is that this person added insult to injury. Sure, he (or she) worked a pretty clean swipe, knowing better than to cut wires and leaving the dashboard in pretty good shape. But this person also stole the change sitting around the car, which is really pretty rude. It took me a while to get just the right change mix there, enough quarters but not too many nickels, and now I have to start over. On the other hand, he/she/it didn't really swipe any CDs, so I suppose I can live with the change thing.
This isn't really much of a big deal. It happens. I actually had a stretch where it happened several times within a couple years. That's what I get for working at a mall. It's just a stereo, and this is why we have insurance. Still, it's interesting how while I was living in a legimitately rough area, hardly anything ever happened to me or my property. I think a prostitute and her john used my old junker car (the lock was broken from an earlier mall break-in back in Indiana) a couple times, but that's the very worst that happened from living in the neighborhood. You're right, my computer was stolen, but we all know that was a certain former roommate, nothing to do with the neighborhood. Sure, there was a shooting across the street from my townhouse, but that had nothing to do with the neighborhood (the guys who did it were from Council Bluffs) and everything to do with idiots running in bad company (he was a meth supplier, the cops think). However, now that we're living in a "better area," definitely in-town and nonsuburban but not somewhere people's parents warn them to never go alone and/or at night, that's when the crazy stuff happens. Trash can theft, crazy white trash neighbors screaming at me and letting dogs run wild, and now someone breaking into my car...it's just so funny. For the record, just so everyone knows...I would much rather live in a neighborhood of poor or working class minorities than in a place that attracts white trash.
My landlord told me today that we have new neighbors moving in upstairs...a mother and a couple kids. I'm curious, of course, to see the new people. If any of those kids have rattails, I may as well prepare myself for the barrage of hollering and loud Hot New Country. I'm staying positive, though.
Memorial Day was a pretty good day. I ended up hanging out with Michial for a bit, wandering around in a flowershop and then grabbing some lunch. Stacey and I watched Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events in the afternoon. I really enjoyed the movie, a dark children's adventure filled with amazing settings, houses, costumes, and atmosphere. The characters were all very well-written and acted, I thought. Often children's movies feature characters so exaggerated and bloated with idiocy that it makes them unwatchable for anyone over 10 years old who isn't developmentally challenged but in this one, everything was intelligent and charming. Even the dialogue, a place where otherwise well-imagined kids' stuff often falls apart, worked really well. I haven't read any of the books, but this makes me think I'd enjoy them.
I almost forgot that over the weekend we also watched Finding Neverland. At the time, I was experiencing one of my occasional restless, jittery moods where I can't just sit and do anything, so I was only partially paying attention during some of the film, but liked that one pretty well, as well. Johnny Depp nails the J.M. Barrie character quite well (no surprise, really), but what really puts the film in good territory is that even in making him the "creative hero," it's also not afraid to show him as unwise and neglectful in his various relationships, something hard to explain but fairly well-done in the actual film.
I'm hoping to check out some decent films over the summer, though I've got plenty of reading and writing to do. Stacey's got a bit more free time over the summer than I do, though, so she'll probably have a couple months of avid movie-renting. She's hoping to get a good bicycle soon, too, and I'm sure she'll spend plenty of time riding that around once she gets it.
I've been looking for some decent shoes to wear on long walks (and eventual jogging, running, other strenuous working out). I'm pretty sold on trying New Balance but I'm open to other quality brands.
It seems, though, that no company can actually put out a quality running shoe without making it look absolutely absurd and ridiculous. You know what I'm talking about: these tacky, flamboyant, and gaudy shoes that look as if they've been designed by crack addicts. I realize that this IS what's popular and sells amongst most athletic type people -- just look at basketball shoes, most of them are even worse! However, I'm looking for something understated and basic in design and appearance, and it's tough to find. New Balance actually has a few good designs in this vein (574 and 874 in particular, but I have a few others written down) but no shoe store in the area actually CARRIES these other than the absolutely high end ones for $130. My next hope is the tiny independent shoe stores with weird hours and employees earning $6/hr. but not minding the pay because they have foot fetishes. If only buying online didn't mean paying extra for them. And yes, I do know that one can find a nice variety of basic white running sneakers by New Balance and others, but I refuse to get white. Not only do they get dirtier quicker, but they look terrible with anything but athletic gear, and what I wear when walking around is a far cry from athletic gear. | | |
| I had hoped to keep a journal during our trip to the Eastern Midwest, carefully chronicling important details, events, and contemplations thereon. It didn't happen, of course. The only extra time I really had was spent in the car, and I can't read or write much at all while in a moving vehicle or I get motion sickness. As a result, what follows isn't any kind of exercise in creativity, but rather just a sort of list of what happened.
Last Thursday we drove to Davenport, where we'd already reserved a place to stay. The motel itself was quite nice, a "Heartland Inn" that came complete with a friendly and helpful but busy counter girl, free breakfast, a pool we never used, and a nice big television to watch while we relaxed. We got in around 9pm and decided to try and find a place to eat that would be decent but fairly unique to the area. Most everything closed around 9, however, so we drove around a while and landed back at the Village Inn near our motel.
The next morning (Friday) we got down in plenty of time for our free breakfast, but a few things were gone (as in, no more left) already due to a large contingent of Middle Eastern (Turkish, perhaps?) folks sitting in the dining area, yelling and laughing at each other. I felt as if I'd walked in on someone's family reunion and whoever brought waffle batter to the potluck just didn't bring enough.
We moved on, arriving in rural north-central Indiana at S's family's place in mid-afternoon. After visiting with her immediate family and playing a little kickball with her siblings, S and I headed over to Culver to meet up with Jeff ("juandelacruz" on the vagrant forums) and B, his wife. My godson P and his big sister C were in other places, but little infant E came along as we went to a super restaurant in the town. The place changed name and some menu items (though it still has the "big ass chicken") since the last time we stopped by, but still worth the visit. After dinner, Stacey went to help her friend with wedding preparations, so the rest of us went and picked up little P and spent some time at Jeff's in-laws while he wound down. Then Jeff and I walked around the lake and its little town, enjoying fresh chilly air and wonderful discussions until the early morning hours. Our time together are always far too frequent and much too short, but great nonetheless. S and I both feel as if Culver would be a great place to live someday for us, but who knows.
Saturday, of course, was the big wedding. We didn't do much in the morning in order to make sure we made it over there on time. The wedding was at the big mega-church type place (a Wesleyan church, as I recall) at the only real city in the immediate area, P-----. I won't go into any sort of church-bashing here, because it really was a nice wedding (TM), but the officiant was an almost comically stereotypical mega-church minister type, heavy on generic "advice" and trendy Godspeak but with very little substance in what he said -- he seemed very unfamiliar with what was supposed to be going on (even confused and disoriented a couple times) other than his "sermon time."
We went on the the reception, of course, and then quickly to a graduation Open House for one of their close family friends. Next we went back to her family's house again, where we spent time with some of her relatives and ate even more food.
Sunday found us zipping up to the South Bend area, Niles, Michigan, in fact, for a noonish get-together with my parents and some other relatives (though not nearly as many as the night before -- basically grandparents and an aunt). They're all such sweet people and while I love Omaha, I hate being so far away from them.
S and I both have a decent amount of closeness and such for our more immediate relatives. We haven't seen most of them for almost a year, and a few just seem much older than we ever remember them having been, even less than a year ago. As I mentioned just earlier, one of the few downsides to our current location is the fact that we spend very little time near some of those who have been most influential in our lives.
Sunday night we met up with S's brother and one of his friends -- they'd been skateboarding at some park in Michigan City -- along with her other brother, her sister, and one of her good high school friends. We all gathered at Lula's Cafe, a favorite place of mine for years, where the House coffee has been New Orleans Community Blend for as long as I can remember. If you're ever near Notre Dame (just a few blocks away) or the South Bend area, you can't go wrong by dropping by the place, what with their great beverages and food. They did paint the bathrooms sometime in the last couple years, however. For a few years, they just left bathroom scrawlings intact (along with various things they'd written there themselves). One of my favorites was near the sink, where someone had originally written "Jesus Saves!" Someone else (no doubt a philosophy or English major at ND) had written underneath, so everyone after that day saw:
Jesus Saves!
He passes to Buddha...
Buddha Scores!
This, along with other more and less interesting pieces, have all been painted over with a very dark shade of blue.
We spent a couple hours there, then spent the rest of the evening with my parents, as well as the first few hours of Monday.
We drove over to Chicago on Monday afternoon. I'd booked our motel based on proximity to good things and a website picture, and it really wasn't all that bad, but seemed like a bad situation on first arrival. We had to drive through a fairly rough neighborhood to get up to the motel, though the place itself was around executive offices and such just past the tough area. We did have a protected, enclosed parking area and a room with no outside access, so we weren't particularly vulnerable, but it was a bit disarming to find a bulletproof (perhaps) glass panel oat the counter between us and the motel clerk (though these glass panels are fairly common practice for any gas station or convenience store in the city), not to mention plenty of signs taped to the glass reminding customers that drug use and prostitution will not be tolerated. The proprietors were very kind Chinese people. The room itself was fairly clean, and the soap was from a Holiday Inn, so we felt the place was fine for us to stay in for a couple nights, anyway.
Monday night we went to an Indian restaurant (Viceroy of India) up on Devon Ave. and met up with various folks there, all of them either Vagrant Cafe regulars, or at least occasional drop-ins. I anticipated a good time, but never thought it would be as great as it was. I tend to be somewhat reserved as even shy around people I don't know that well, and I was, but everyone (even S, who knew none of them beforehand) seemed very comfortable and engaged. We didn't really want it to end anytime soon, but the restaurant had to close. Rather than rehash everything, I'll just post a link to a thread with some info and pics:
http://www.vagrantcafe.com/forums/s...ead.php?t=14147
S and I spent Tuesday wandering around Chicago, meeting up again in the early evening with "aion" and "jessypie" and eventually winding up at the Hortons' apartment for a while. Again, great times and all that.
We headed back to Omaha on Wednesday, taking our time to stop at a few places here and there. S decided she needed markers so on a break, we ended up at a Wal*Mart in Peru, Illinois. I hate Wal*Marts, for the most part, but this was the only real feasible way to get what we needed. We were coming back from the restrooms (in the back of the store) when S decided to look at some ottoman or something and somehow cut her finger, we're not even quite sure how. We went to Customer Service so they'd see that it happened there, then went to get the pharmacist's advice just in case it might be deep enough that stitches might be in order. She didn't think so, but we wanted to document it with the management in case something crazy happened. The managers that came over were both younger than I am, probably in their early 20s, and that shouldn't have been a problem in and of itself, but served as an indication of their ability to actually deal with a "situation." Clearly these guys were buzz-cut-haircut yokels who weren't used to dealing with any actual situation-handling more serious than night stockers forgetting to clear the occasional pallet from the floor before opening time, or irresponsible people forgetting to clean up their messes in the break room. Their way of "documenting" the situation was to have us write down name and contact info on a small piece of scrap paper clipped to their clipboard. That's it. Obviously this isn't serious enough for any kind of legal/civil action, but we're still going to write a letter just because we're cranky sorts of people. We probably wouldn't have even talked about "writing a letter," but we had to buy the supplies to fix up her finger ourselves -- they never even offered! They had a first aid kit, but the supplies were outdated and scary, and they didn't have cotton swabs or anything to actually help clean up the cut. I realize we can't expect small town Wal*Mart management to offer much more than fodder for laughs, but one should be able to reasonably expect a halfway decent first aid kit in a national chain store.
We got back to Omaha mostly all right, though, and that's pretty much it. | | |
| While in the Antiquarium (used bookstore, record store specializing in vinyl) over the weekend, the guy who runs the record store gave me a postcard advertising a weekly "ragball" game. A "ragball" is basically a soft softball, so soft that players don't even really need ballgloves. When I go into the Antiquarium, Dave and I almost always talk about either music or baseball, usually hitting both somewhere along the line. He's an older guy, maybe in his 40s or 50s, and quite concerned with authenticity and "classic" alongside great new stuff (whatever it is). His music taste and pickiness makes Horton look like a teenybopper, but he's not one of these people who just mouths off and acts elitist for its own sake -- he knows what he's talking about, he shares his opinion eloquently and crassly all at once, and he's fair about the fact that some sub-genres simply don't interest him at all. Anyway, he and I also often bemoan our favorite baseball teams inbetween music discussions so he knows I'm a fan, and told me that this weekly "ragball" should be right up my alley. The guys who started it up are or were all connected with the record store somehow somewhere along the line and Dave mentioned it wasn't really competitive at all, just something they did for fun. I've never really actually played any kind of anything near baseball with more than a couple friends (other than gym class every great once in a while) and lack any kind of actual athletic talent, so his description really did sound like a good match for me. I told Stacey about it, expecting an eyeroll, and she said it sounded fun and she'd come along and play, sure.
We went last night to check it out. The game takes place at a somewhat neglected park in northern "midtown," a place that maybe the local neighbors know about but probably nobody else really remembers is there. A few of us showed up at 6pm (the appointed time) and more rolled in as time went on. I recognized most everyone there from rock shows, record stores, and that sort of thing. Another guy from the Master's in English program showed up. We hung out by the bleachers until enough people to fill the field had arrived, and locker room banter centered around bands some of these guys were in, bands playing locally soon, and which EPs by which bands rate as pretty good even though most of the rest of their small catalogue is mediocre. By the time we had enough for teams and people lined up for "captains" to pick, S and I understood what Dave meant by laid back, and things were moreso as people arrived and entered the game as it went along. Nobody wore gloves or yelled at each other about fumbled balls. We enjoyed ourselves without making the game so competitive that anyone felt bad about whiffing a few times, dropping fly balls, or throwing the ball nowhere near the intended recipient. The girl playing second base for us wouldn't move very far to go after something grounded her way, and nobody cared. People smoked not only while in the field, but while batting. A few kept bagged bottles of alcohol near them in the field. One guy at bat socked the ball hard, dropped his bat, picked up his bottle-in-a-bag, and then ran the bases. I don't think anyone knew the score, partly because my team was horrid from the get-go and no one wanted to keep track of how many the good team scored. All in all a very fun time and we'll probably join in most every week. If you're near Omaha and don't mind this sort of thing, send me a note and I'll give you whens and wheres. | | |
| Whatever else we claimed to dream, the one about getting along somehow always makes it onto list-tops, at least for those who admit to dreaming. Truth is, we probably aren't supposed to get along. Didn't we cover this in "Major Barbara"? I guess you've never even heard of Shaw. Someone's always going to be fighting over territory or ideals or power or who left what in whose way to step in between the car and the sidewalk. People get in each others' ways just as much as they help each other build anything, anyway, and maybe we should all just admit that and move on. Some of us will get along quite well, even when others wouldn't -- and some of us can't get along even when we agree. Maybe we'll get to a place where we can just admit it and live life anyway. Some people love to live drama, but I like my drama at a distance, available with an "ON" switch or through opening a book and just as easily avoided or ended. Maybe it's time someone admitted that no, we CAN'T all just get along, but that in and of itself, "getting along" doesn't really matter much.
---------------------Weekend Summation-----------------------------
We finally hit the first weekend in a long time where neither S nor myself had pressing school/other work to hold focus. Relaxing in pure relief, we didn't really do much of anything Friday night. I remember doing dishes and straightening up the house a bit. S fell asleep around 7:30, woke up when I finally went to bed close to midnight, and went back to bed a few hours later. Off to a roaring start.
Saturday marked the first day of "Farmer's Market" downtown. By mid-summer, the Farmer's Market is a great place to find fresh fruits and vegetables but this time of year it's not much more than vendors stacked atop each other and offering everything from baked goods to the absurdly unnecessary. We intended to head over there around 10 but got involved in some documentary about the Jerry Springer show. I'll admit that it was me more than S. Something about the freakish circus atmosphere and evolution of the show really piqued my interest, I suppose. I'm fascinated/appalled/paranoid in regards to white trash (see last journal entry) and couldn't turn away, much to my shame. Anyway, we'd just started walking around the Market and I'd already seen 4 different syrup vendors and a day's worth of tacky farm-related apparel and kitchen accessories when high winds (something one doesn't pay much mind in Nebraska) suddenly turned to a heavy downpour. We ducked into our favorite antiques store nearby, where I discovered a tucked-away book section. They had some great anthologies that will prove highly beneficial in upcoming classes (given our majors, we know this already) so we wandered back out into sunny weather with a bag full of heavy books. After dropping our finds off at our nearby car, we spent a few more hours traipsing around downtown, visiting a favorite coffeeshop, several record stores, and I forget what else. All in all, a super afternoon.
That evening we went to a student short film festival here at the university, where we found a few to love, a few to hate, and a few to shrug through. A guy I know who DJs a pretty decent late-afternoon show (playing everything from the indie/obscure to traditional blues when he can) directed and performed in a film featuring marionette puppets. We talked to him and an artist friend involved with the fest for a few minutes afterward, and decided that whenever we have a party sometime, we'd better invite them both.
After grabbing some Chinese food and heading home, we started watching Anchorman (the Will Farrell movie) -- a kid I see quite a bit at work told me I need to see it and loaned it to me) but got sick of it pretty quick and shut it off before hitting the hay.
I won't bore you with details of a Sunday on which we worked on a few things and relaxed around the house.
All in all, a much-enjoyed combination of "taking it easy" and having fun together. The fact that we get along so well and enjoy each other's company without stressing out if we end up in two different stores for a while makes it all the better.
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Our tentative vacation schedule:
May 19 -- Thursday -- after Stacey gets home from work, we leave -- driving to Davenport, IA, where we'll rest on the banks of the Mississippi River for the night.
May 20 -- Friday -- drive the rest of the way to North-Central Indiana. Only set plans are that S will hang out with her "pretty much best friend" that night, on aforementioned friend's last night of singledom. I'm hoping to spend the night hanging out with "juandelacruz" & family if possible, though I suppose I should probably contact him regarding this rather than assuming I can just show up somewhere.
May 21 -- Saturday -- Wedding @ 2pm. We've all but promised the rest of the day to S's family & some extended family.
May 22 -- Sunday -- Spending the afternoon with my side of the family before most of them head back to church at night. We'll spend time with just my parents after church, most likely.
May 23 -- Monday -- leaving in the early afternoon for Chicago to get a couple days of actual "vacation" for ourselves. If you're in or near Chicago and you've made it this far in the journal entry, give me a yell, I'd like to meet up. Our plan is to spend some time in the afternoon or early evening up in the Indian area of town, gorging ourselves on Indian food and that sort of thing.
May 24 -- Tuesday -- Chicago -- We have a couple areas where we just like to wander, so today's the day to do so. Watch out, BookWorks, Giordanos, Reckless & Ragstock! The Cubs are in town and playing a couple night games Monday and Tuesday, but we haven't really talked about that as a possibility. S was a good sport and bought tix off eBay to see them on our honeymoon, so maybe I'll let her off the hook this time, hehehe. We're tossing about the possibility of leaving Tuesday evening and driving as far as we can, allowing us some downtime at home Wednesday before returning to work Thursday.
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The latest big idea I've gotten for a new zine name: Buffalo Alley Press. Like it? Hate it? Don't Care? Feel free to comment. I've realized by now that we're not going to find a name that everybody likes, much less loves, but I'd also like something that isn't horrifically stupid. Some people are quite picky about these things, and the picky among us will rarely agree (for example, Horton's going to hate every name idea, but I wasn't particularly enamored with any of his ideas, either -- that's where we picky find ourselves). Anyway, I've not heard back from Carter yet on this one, but perchance this could be it.
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One of the things I dig about Sloan is their ability and willingness to do more than jangle. I mean, jangly powerpop is super and all, but they seem happy wandering back into an early 70s rock sound a la Mott the Hoople or more adventurous Big Star, near-glammy but grounded. Sloan's not even really one of my favorite bands, but I'm appreciating their new "singles" record.
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