7.30.2009
NEWS FLASH
Miss Going40? I've a new blog for you to check out. Visit me at Doing It the Gay Way, and thanks!
6.04.2009
801
Okay, I interrupt this blog's demise to offer one important edict for summer:
Jeep Wranglers are for hot guys. If you are not a hot guy, driving a Jeep Wrangler will NOT make you a hot guy. If you are not a hot guy, do. not. drive. a. JeepWrangler.
Back to your previously scheduled lives you go. Back to oblivion I go.
Jeep Wranglers are for hot guys. If you are not a hot guy, driving a Jeep Wrangler will NOT make you a hot guy. If you are not a hot guy, do. not. drive. a. JeepWrangler.
Back to your previously scheduled lives you go. Back to oblivion I go.
5.31.2009
And so
We end as inelegantly as we began. This, my 800th post, is my last. There is nothing special about 800, but when I could see it coming I knew my OCDness would be most happy with that tidy round number.
Several of you—most graciously—have suggested that I keep this blog going. And I thought about it. I still enjoy writing it and reading your comments, but here's the thing: the filler stuff—the quests for planters, the trips to Liberty Custard—in other words, the glimpses into my deep interior life, would all of the sudden become the point of the blog, and sorry, that's just not that interesting to me. This blog was conceived as a way to document a very particular journey; it has done that and, at least for me, so much more.
I did not expect to come away from Hamline and Going40 with such a strong conviction that writing needs to be a central part of my life, but I also didn't expect to secretly like my math class, so there you go. I will almost certainly blog again, perhaps even soon, but I am also anxious to explore the discipline required of other forms of writing (by which I do NOT mean academic papers for undergraduate courses, thankyousweetJesus). I am convinced that blogging is here to stay, though the craft will continue to morph as technology and sensibilities change.
Oh, the last round of limericks? You're all winners, but you knew that. I realized that we didn't really need another limerick contest; the community had moved beyond that. But my loyal little cadre of regular contributors will all find a little something on their doorsteps later this summer.
I would not trade a single moment of the last two years: they have been the richest of my life. Yes, there has been drudgery and trepidation and tedium, but in greater abundance there has been excitement and discovery and joy. I am grateful beyond measure for my time at Hamline, for this blog, and most importantly, for you. Talk to you soon.
Several of you—most graciously—have suggested that I keep this blog going. And I thought about it. I still enjoy writing it and reading your comments, but here's the thing: the filler stuff—the quests for planters, the trips to Liberty Custard—in other words, the glimpses into my deep interior life, would all of the sudden become the point of the blog, and sorry, that's just not that interesting to me. This blog was conceived as a way to document a very particular journey; it has done that and, at least for me, so much more.
I did not expect to come away from Hamline and Going40 with such a strong conviction that writing needs to be a central part of my life, but I also didn't expect to secretly like my math class, so there you go. I will almost certainly blog again, perhaps even soon, but I am also anxious to explore the discipline required of other forms of writing (by which I do NOT mean academic papers for undergraduate courses, thankyousweetJesus). I am convinced that blogging is here to stay, though the craft will continue to morph as technology and sensibilities change.
Oh, the last round of limericks? You're all winners, but you knew that. I realized that we didn't really need another limerick contest; the community had moved beyond that. But my loyal little cadre of regular contributors will all find a little something on their doorsteps later this summer.
I would not trade a single moment of the last two years: they have been the richest of my life. Yes, there has been drudgery and trepidation and tedium, but in greater abundance there has been excitement and discovery and joy. I am grateful beyond measure for my time at Hamline, for this blog, and most importantly, for you. Talk to you soon.
And again with the Perfect Planter
I am happy to report that the Perfect Planter has found a mate. Thanks to generous graduation gifts, a beautiful copper (colored; I think it's steel, just like Serra's sculptures) planter found its way home from Tangletown Gardens yesterday. For those of you who are linguists, Tangletown means super-fricking-overpriced in several languages. But it's still a pretty place to go. And, of course, it is across the street from Mecca.
Bids and Turns
-posted by the Sous Blogger
Wow. Is it ever fun to have a command performance and cheering from the crowds. I feel so *wanted* - which, in case you didn't read the whole article in the NYTimes magazine a few weeks ago (and I know for sure at least one of you didn't) is exactly what turns women on. That may or may not be of interest to the readership in general.
I've been thinking for quite a while about the work of John Gottman, and how some of his ideas relate to blogkeeping. Gottman is the psychologist who was featured in Malcolm Gladwell's "Blink." He and his wife Julie work at the University of Washington doing research and clinical work on marriage and partner relationships. His undergrad degree was in math, and he's also a really good clinical therapist. So, in a field of generally crap research, he's a rare commodity who knows how to design a valid research protocol *and* do good therapy. They study couples, but they're interested in creating a science of relationships, and I really think their work generalizes to all human interactions in a very rich way.
They believe that intimacy is skill-based and behavioral, therefore teachable and learnable. It comes from a million small moments of mindful connectedness - call and response. Gottman reminds us that good relationships are really just one long conversation.
A bid is any small request for connection. A turn is how the other person responds. Bids can be spoken, or gestured, or written. The corresponding turn can complete a nice loop (turn towards), drop the ball (turn away), or harm the connection (turn against). The sweetest relationships are built on a rolling series of positive bids and turns.
To do this requires emotional intelligence. Another hero of ours, Daniel Goleman, was asked to give a one-sentence definition of EI, and said this: "Emotional intelligence is the ability to have an accurate hunch about what it's like to be the other person, and to act on it."
For a long time I've thought that blogging is a very fun series of bids - each post becomes a bid. Part of what has made it so good here is that there have been turns, too, and that's a hard thing to accomplish in a blog. The sparks ignite and we all feel part of something when the commenters start commenting to each other, and the authors pretend to arbitrate, and so on. That cascade creates community and connectedness and everybody has a better day as a result.
Uh oh. I was going to write much more, and certainly much better, but I have to go play F, F# and G in the handbell choir in 52 minutes, and that means getting in the shower right this instant. I'll be back.
***************
Later that same day . . .
OK, I'm back from bells. I'd say I held my own on two out of three tunes, and completely unraveled during the last one. Oh well. No more bells until fall.
And now back to me.
I have loved the limerick contests here at G40 - I think maybe we took the blog form (and the limerick form) to a higher level. I learned that I can crank out 4-6 crappy limericks in ten minutes by thinking up three words that rhyme and then back-filling with other nonsense, plus two more other-rhyming words. This results in quantity, but no quality. For the really good stuff, you have to turn to the work of everyone else who's ever stopped in here.
What I'm the happiest about is that I got to be here on the front end of creating and defining the role of sous-blogger. We invented it together, and it became more fun than I could have imagined. When the complete history of the Internet is written, (probably by a robot named iGoogle06724) this will be the first place to make use of sous blogging.
*****************
Stephanie, I apologize for not starting a contest to name the next blog, because it was a really good idea. I was overwhelmed with The Caring and The Extreme Irritation all week, and didn't have time to go rogue.
In these waning hours, I'm suggesting that it's not too late to post your ideas here. My favorite, which I didn't invent, is Made Up Mind, and I offer it for your consideration.
Others?
- Deb, signing off
Wow. Is it ever fun to have a command performance and cheering from the crowds. I feel so *wanted* - which, in case you didn't read the whole article in the NYTimes magazine a few weeks ago (and I know for sure at least one of you didn't) is exactly what turns women on. That may or may not be of interest to the readership in general.
I've been thinking for quite a while about the work of John Gottman, and how some of his ideas relate to blogkeeping. Gottman is the psychologist who was featured in Malcolm Gladwell's "Blink." He and his wife Julie work at the University of Washington doing research and clinical work on marriage and partner relationships. His undergrad degree was in math, and he's also a really good clinical therapist. So, in a field of generally crap research, he's a rare commodity who knows how to design a valid research protocol *and* do good therapy. They study couples, but they're interested in creating a science of relationships, and I really think their work generalizes to all human interactions in a very rich way.
They believe that intimacy is skill-based and behavioral, therefore teachable and learnable. It comes from a million small moments of mindful connectedness - call and response. Gottman reminds us that good relationships are really just one long conversation.
A bid is any small request for connection. A turn is how the other person responds. Bids can be spoken, or gestured, or written. The corresponding turn can complete a nice loop (turn towards), drop the ball (turn away), or harm the connection (turn against). The sweetest relationships are built on a rolling series of positive bids and turns.
To do this requires emotional intelligence. Another hero of ours, Daniel Goleman, was asked to give a one-sentence definition of EI, and said this: "Emotional intelligence is the ability to have an accurate hunch about what it's like to be the other person, and to act on it."
For a long time I've thought that blogging is a very fun series of bids - each post becomes a bid. Part of what has made it so good here is that there have been turns, too, and that's a hard thing to accomplish in a blog. The sparks ignite and we all feel part of something when the commenters start commenting to each other, and the authors pretend to arbitrate, and so on. That cascade creates community and connectedness and everybody has a better day as a result.
Uh oh. I was going to write much more, and certainly much better, but I have to go play F, F# and G in the handbell choir in 52 minutes, and that means getting in the shower right this instant. I'll be back.
***************
Later that same day . . .
OK, I'm back from bells. I'd say I held my own on two out of three tunes, and completely unraveled during the last one. Oh well. No more bells until fall.
And now back to me.
I have loved the limerick contests here at G40 - I think maybe we took the blog form (and the limerick form) to a higher level. I learned that I can crank out 4-6 crappy limericks in ten minutes by thinking up three words that rhyme and then back-filling with other nonsense, plus two more other-rhyming words. This results in quantity, but no quality. For the really good stuff, you have to turn to the work of everyone else who's ever stopped in here.
What I'm the happiest about is that I got to be here on the front end of creating and defining the role of sous-blogger. We invented it together, and it became more fun than I could have imagined. When the complete history of the Internet is written, (probably by a robot named iGoogle06724) this will be the first place to make use of sous blogging.
*****************
Stephanie, I apologize for not starting a contest to name the next blog, because it was a really good idea. I was overwhelmed with The Caring and The Extreme Irritation all week, and didn't have time to go rogue.
In these waning hours, I'm suggesting that it's not too late to post your ideas here. My favorite, which I didn't invent, is Made Up Mind, and I offer it for your consideration.
Others?
- Deb, signing off
5.30.2009
Say it with me . . . .
Sous! Sous! Sous! Sous! Sous! Sous! Sous!
I think we can all agree that we need—one last time—to hear pearls of wisdom from our dear and much-tolerated Sous Blogger.
I think we can all agree that we need—one last time—to hear pearls of wisdom from our dear and much-tolerated Sous Blogger.
5.29.2009
When the bee stings
Things I will not miss about my recent college experience:
1. 20-year-old women dressed like frumpy whores
2. Small group work during class (code for the prof would like a break, so uses this lame pedagogical tic and tries to convince us that she is developing our critical thinking chops. Bull. Shit.)
3. Not playing the piano during a certain hour of the week you'd think I would be playing the piano.
4. The way the practice rooms smell like moldy armpits.
5. The wait for the computers to log in the basement computer lab.
6. The walk to my car against the wind on a freezing/snowy/stormy/rainy day after class.
7. Night classes (never. again.)
8. Moist hegemony
9. Unclear syllabi
10. The commuter center
11. Science
12. Taking, rather than teaching, some classes
13. The whining of the kiddies (some may find this ironic)
14. The Hamline Plan
1. 20-year-old women dressed like frumpy whores
2. Small group work during class (code for the prof would like a break, so uses this lame pedagogical tic and tries to convince us that she is developing our critical thinking chops. Bull. Shit.)
3. Not playing the piano during a certain hour of the week you'd think I would be playing the piano.
4. The way the practice rooms smell like moldy armpits.
5. The wait for the computers to log in the basement computer lab.
6. The walk to my car against the wind on a freezing/snowy/stormy/rainy day after class.
7. Night classes (never. again.)
8. Moist hegemony
9. Unclear syllabi
10. The commuter center
11. Science
12. Taking, rather than teaching, some classes
13. The whining of the kiddies (some may find this ironic)
14. The Hamline Plan
5.28.2009
End times
I've been thinking about how empty and meaningless your lives are going to be without this blog, and now some of you are even threatening me with harm should I shut it down (and let's be clear: I AM shutting it down). One mean lady (she's essentially French and can't help it) intimated that I alone will be responsible for world hunger if I quit producing this blog. Another has said that he's likely to turn to meth without my blog to read. Okay, he didn't actually say that, but I think it's likely.
Here's my best advice. Read. A. Book.
Here's my best advice. Read. A. Book.
As it should be
Even though it's been almost two years, I know that the earth is returning to its regular orbit because this morning I started piano lessons again with Stephanie. Yay for me! Those of you who know things that I have judiciously kept out of this blog know that this is a Very. Good. Thing.
No more recital music. All new repertoire, some of which is still under consideration.
So happy.
No more recital music. All new repertoire, some of which is still under consideration.
So happy.
5.26.2009
Raindrops on roses
In the waning days of Going40, I thought I'd start a list of my favorite parts of the last two years. I'll add to this post as I think of things, so check back every. possible. minute.
1. Walking across campus on a beautiful day
2. Learning, or starting to learn, German
3. Big, cheap blueberry muffins at Klas
4. Laughing with my classmates
5. NCUR
6. My first semester 4.0
7. My second semester 4.0
8. Prof K
9. Writing
10. Checking for comments on Going40
11. Turning 40
12. The nap after the Twin Cities marathon
13. Discovering Oceanaire
14. My mother's wedding
15. Facebook
16. The orange quilt from my father
17. Triumphing, in a half-hearted way, over the adversity that is math
18. Liberty Frozen Custard
19. Tom (see comments)
20. Limericks
21. My partner (who has complained vociferously about his not being on this list yet)
22. Studying on the front porch
23. Learning at an advanced age
24. Having a sous blogger
25. Having a sous blogger who's all the boss of me
26. 376263
27. Access to all of Minnesota's college libraries
28. Searching journal articles online (students have it SO easy today)
29. Writing papers (good ones, damit)
30. Self-righteous indignation over my linguistics grade
31. Deciding that magna cum laude reflects both achievement and a full life, while summa represents unattractive single-mindedness
32. Alex Ross
33. My blogging buddies: WG, Squab, Meema, eWAC, Catchup, Lass, Ln, Native
34. English department courses
1. Walking across campus on a beautiful day
2. Learning, or starting to learn, German
3. Big, cheap blueberry muffins at Klas
4. Laughing with my classmates
5. NCUR
6. My first semester 4.0
7. My second semester 4.0
8. Prof K
9. Writing
10. Checking for comments on Going40
11. Turning 40
12. The nap after the Twin Cities marathon
13. Discovering Oceanaire
14. My mother's wedding
15. Facebook
16. The orange quilt from my father
17. Triumphing, in a half-hearted way, over the adversity that is math
18. Liberty Frozen Custard
19. Tom (see comments)
20. Limericks
21. My partner (who has complained vociferously about his not being on this list yet)
22. Studying on the front porch
23. Learning at an advanced age
24. Having a sous blogger
25. Having a sous blogger who's all the boss of me
26. 376263
27. Access to all of Minnesota's college libraries
28. Searching journal articles online (students have it SO easy today)
29. Writing papers (good ones, damit)
30. Self-righteous indignation over my linguistics grade
31. Deciding that magna cum laude reflects both achievement and a full life, while summa represents unattractive single-mindedness
32. Alex Ross
33. My blogging buddies: WG, Squab, Meema, eWAC, Catchup, Lass, Ln, Native
34. English department courses
5.25.2009
To sum up
The festivities are finally over. A brief summary:
1. Recital: very fun. I'm pleased with the results, the crowd, the afterglow, and of course, my outfit. Seriously, it was quite a good experience.
2. Family: my mother and her husband, my father and partner, and both sisters came to attend all or part of the festivities. We all had a wonderful weekend together, and I'm grateful for their presence (and unnecessarily and unexpectedly, their presents).
3. Commencement: I can't lie. Crossing that stage is something I will never, ever forget. Ceremonies are boring, and this one was no exception, but corny as it may be, putting on that cap and gown and gold tassle meant something. I was proud to graduate, and to graduate magna cum laude with a 3.859 GPA.
4. My partner: Along with my friends, Eric was an amazing support through all this, not just the weekend, but the last two years. Enough so that now he's sick as a dog, trying to recover from strep throat.
How do I know this is all really over? I spent part of today choosing new piano repertoire and researching grad school programs.
1. Recital: very fun. I'm pleased with the results, the crowd, the afterglow, and of course, my outfit. Seriously, it was quite a good experience.
2. Family: my mother and her husband, my father and partner, and both sisters came to attend all or part of the festivities. We all had a wonderful weekend together, and I'm grateful for their presence (and unnecessarily and unexpectedly, their presents).
3. Commencement: I can't lie. Crossing that stage is something I will never, ever forget. Ceremonies are boring, and this one was no exception, but corny as it may be, putting on that cap and gown and gold tassle meant something. I was proud to graduate, and to graduate magna cum laude with a 3.859 GPA.
4. My partner: Along with my friends, Eric was an amazing support through all this, not just the weekend, but the last two years. Enough so that now he's sick as a dog, trying to recover from strep throat.
How do I know this is all really over? I spent part of today choosing new piano repertoire and researching grad school programs.
5.24.2009
Perfect planter redux
three hundred bucks.
5.23.2009
The Story of It
There was a time—remember that time?—when you missed out on something important. You didn't achieve what you wanted, or you tried to do something that didn't work out. The experience stung, but you forgot about It and moved on. Or maybe you resolved to fix It right away, and did. Or maybe you put It away (It was only a little black speck of a thing anyway), giving It a little space.
It was an annoyance, but It resided in the back of your mind, that little speck, with your other neglected memories, long-solved problems, and discarded plans.
For some of you, It was content back there, along for a ride, not causing you many problems. But for the rest of you, It morphed; no longer a simple annoyance, It began to take up more than its fair share of space, intruding on the rest of your life, becoming untenable, a hostile invader.
At some point, It demanded action. With so much time gone by, satisfying It was no easy matter. It demanded tenacity, even a bit of cleverness. But you'd been around long enough to know that you could take care of It. And you did. When you had finished It, you were amazed at how brightly It shone; It gleamed in the sun, catching the light just so.
After all your friends congratulated you on your accomplishment, It took up residence in that space that had been waiting for It. It could't begin to fill up all the space you had created for It.
But It was content, and as time went by, It grew: not too much, certainly not out of proportion to its importance, but filling out that empty space quite nicely. And even better, that ungainly space—with time and inattention—receded, until It and that space were one, inseparable and satisfying.
Happiness is the color orange.
It was an annoyance, but It resided in the back of your mind, that little speck, with your other neglected memories, long-solved problems, and discarded plans.
For some of you, It was content back there, along for a ride, not causing you many problems. But for the rest of you, It morphed; no longer a simple annoyance, It began to take up more than its fair share of space, intruding on the rest of your life, becoming untenable, a hostile invader.
At some point, It demanded action. With so much time gone by, satisfying It was no easy matter. It demanded tenacity, even a bit of cleverness. But you'd been around long enough to know that you could take care of It. And you did. When you had finished It, you were amazed at how brightly It shone; It gleamed in the sun, catching the light just so.
After all your friends congratulated you on your accomplishment, It took up residence in that space that had been waiting for It. It could't begin to fill up all the space you had created for It.
But It was content, and as time went by, It grew: not too much, certainly not out of proportion to its importance, but filling out that empty space quite nicely. And even better, that ungainly space—with time and inattention—receded, until It and that space were one, inseparable and satisfying.
Happiness is the color orange.
A normal Saturday
Coffee, puppy tails from Isle Bun, a walk with the dog, a college diploma. Boring.
5.22.2009
You know what's cool?
So many things, but among the attendees tonight, there were several parents with small children in attendance. Some brought kids, others arranged for babysitters, or juggled with another parent. Whatever they did, it was a lot of work, on a school night, and I'm so grateful. My life is so easy. Anne and Angie and Christian and Heather and Mark and Caytie and Marcela and Elise and anyone I'm forgetting because it's late and I've had a lot of not-so-innocent punch: I admire you!
About to take a bow
As fun as it is to liveblog, it turns out the people with real cameras get better pictures. I'm extending my sous blogger agency and adding photos from Angie and Eric.
I love these pictures.
(And I'm glad The Chef understands the auteur-like nature of my work here.)
-posted by the Sous Blogger
During the encore
I took no photos until the encore, when it seemed like it wouldn't be back luck or bad manners.
- posted by the Sous Blogger
5.21.2009
Confident at the half
Though I am such a baby I started crying at the end of the Chopin, I
was so relieved it was over.
was so relieved it was over.
[typos courtesy of iPhone]
7:26 pm
A small portion of the large audience is pictured here, synchronizing their iPhones.
- posted by the Sous Blogger
Live blogging recital
Just kidding! But I am backstage and just heard Eric laugh, so I'm
relieved that someone is here. See you after.
relieved that someone is here. See you after.
[typos courtesy of iPhone]
Limerick deadline extended
Per many suggestions the new deadline will be Saturday May 23, 4:00pm.
[typos courtesy of iPhone]
5.20.2009
Oops
I think I accidentally aced my last final. All done. I actually got
goosebumps walking away from campus.
goosebumps walking away from campus.
[typos courtesy of iPhone]
5.19.2009
5.18.2009
Feelin' good from my head to my shoes
So here's the thing. It's a gorgeous day out. I just played the HELL out of my piano jury. I have a lot of work ahead of me this week, but you know what? I've decided (drumroll, please) that being an uptight J is not going to help me this week. If I don't enjoy this week, it's going to be over and I will have missed it. I have been waiting for this week for N-I-N-E-T-E-E-N years. I can study for my finals and take them, understanding that I'll probably do fine, may do super, and in the end it's not going to matter all that much. I can continue to practice and fine-hone my programme (I'm British), understanding that I'm going to have a supportive, eager audience that wants to hear me play well. AND I get to see almost all of my family this week. AND I get to graduate from college. AND I have the most supportive spouse in the universe.
No sarcasm here. Just a bit of pop psychology to start the week. So there.
No sarcasm here. Just a bit of pop psychology to start the week. So there.
5.17.2009
Fortified for the week ahead
Tonight's dinner:
Smoked Trout Mousse
Asparagus and Gruyere Bread Pudding
Salad of Green Beans, Asparagus, Peas, and Baby Garden Greens with Creme Fraiche Lemon Viniagrette
Navarin of Lamb with Ramps, New Potatoes, Carrots, and Snap Peas
Hot from the oven Berenbaum butter rolls
French Laundry Lemon Tart with Whipped Cream, Honey, and Mascarpone
Not at a restaurant. Right here at home, made collaboratively with friends. We are full, and we are sated, and we. are. ready.
Smoked Trout Mousse
Asparagus and Gruyere Bread Pudding
Salad of Green Beans, Asparagus, Peas, and Baby Garden Greens with Creme Fraiche Lemon Viniagrette
Navarin of Lamb with Ramps, New Potatoes, Carrots, and Snap Peas
Hot from the oven Berenbaum butter rolls
French Laundry Lemon Tart with Whipped Cream, Honey, and Mascarpone
Not at a restaurant. Right here at home, made collaboratively with friends. We are full, and we are sated, and we. are. ready.
5.15.2009
Clarification
Some have suggested (okay, one, and that was the underworked sous blogger), that I might enjoy law school next. I told her, and I tell you now, that I immediately thought of three things I would enjoy more than law school.
1. Pulling out all my fingernails
2. Working with heavy machinery at a tool and die (or dye, as I originally wrote)
3. Vaginal intercourse
1. Pulling out all my fingernails
2. Working with heavy machinery at a tool and die (or dye, as I originally wrote)
3. Vaginal intercourse
Speaking to the board
Is fun. We were all awesome. I totally want to testify at a
congressional hearing next.
congressional hearing next.
[typos courtesy of iPhone]
5.14.2009
Triumph des Menschengeistes
As I write this, I am moved by the profound coincidence that one week from this very moment, overwhelming applause still ringing in my ears, I will sit down at the piano in Sundin Hall to begin my senior recital (only nineteen short years after the first time that was supposed to happen, for those keeping score at home). It seems appropriate, what with things wrapping up and all (and yes, that includes Going40, which goes away May 31), to reflect back as only our fair readership can. That's right, it's LIMERICK TIME! Our final limerick contest. Your poems should be appropriate to the times (but please, nothing too congratulatory; I'm just a simple country boy). The prize will be glorious, the judge astute and eminent. The contest ends at 6:59pm, Thursday, May 21 (at which points your butts had better be in their seats at Sundin Hall—there are, by the way, very few excused absences being offered).
Limerickten Sie!
Limerickten Sie!
Continuing the countdown
No more biology classes, ever ever again (we'll just pretend next week's final doesn't exist). As a sign of my commitment to the subject, I've already sold back my books. Tomorrow I'll presenting to the Board of Trustees, with Prof K and two other student researchers, a summary of my research. Giving me five minutes and a free microphone in front of the Board is not one of Prof K's most prudent decisions. She should be scared.
What's left? Here's the schedule:
Monday, 9:49am. Piano Jury
Tuesday, 10:00am, German Final; 12:15p Final recital runthrough
Wednesday, 7:45am Biology Final (the answers, by the way, are a. biodiversity; b. endemism; c. keystone species; and d. albedo effect)
Thursday, 7:30pm, I can't remember exactly, but it involves a new outfit
Friday, Not One Damn Thing.
Saturday, 11:30am Commencement
What's left? Here's the schedule:
Monday, 9:49am. Piano Jury
Tuesday, 10:00am, German Final; 12:15p Final recital runthrough
Wednesday, 7:45am Biology Final (the answers, by the way, are a. biodiversity; b. endemism; c. keystone species; and d. albedo effect)
Thursday, 7:30pm, I can't remember exactly, but it involves a new outfit
Friday, Not One Damn Thing.
Saturday, 11:30am Commencement
5.13.2009
Does anyone else think
that I'm a bit much? I mean, really, how much psychic space should my recital and impending graduation be taking up in everyone's lives, or even in my own? It's all I can fricking think about. I'm so sorry to be such a burden to you all. Fear not, it will all be over soon.
5.12.2009
I am thankful that . . .
. . . I never have to go to another biology lab for the rest of my life, forever and ever. Amen.
5.11.2009
A rare bit of cheery news
Hello,
As my trusty sous blogger has indicated, things have been a bit, um, hectic. But the good news is that I have been officially cleared for commencement as of this morning (there had been a hold up with some transfer credits). A very big WHEW.
Onward.
As my trusty sous blogger has indicated, things have been a bit, um, hectic. But the good news is that I have been officially cleared for commencement as of this morning (there had been a hold up with some transfer credits). A very big WHEW.
Onward.
5.10.2009
Update from the Sous Blogger
It's been a little thin around here, hasn't it? Even I (the sous blogger) have been somewhat off duty, what with trying to stay in business, and maximizing a trip to Boston for a conference and some goofing off, and s-l-o-w-l-y learning to cook. They had a little add-on at the conference about the Enneagram, which has a large cult following, sort of like the Myers-Briggs. I found out that I'm a 2 ("the giver") with a 3 wing ("the achiever"), and The Blogger is a 9 ("the peacemaker") with a 1 wing ("the perfectionist"). It seems a little more astrology-like than the MBTI, but maybe that's just because it's new to me.
I did actually see The Blogger Himself In Person this week. He played very well at piano club Thursday night. I bought a little bio-feedback thingy when I was in Boston, and we all tried playing piano while it was monitoring stress levels. Details of this experiment will be reported at another time, due to HIPAA regulations. I can tell you, though, that his programme for the recital is so beautiful, and the music he's finding in it is so rich, you're out of your mind if you don't cancel the rest of your life in order to attend.
Thursday, May 21, 7:30 PM.
Sundin Hall on the Hamline campus.
In other news, His hair is longer than I've seen it ever, except in pictures from junior high, which makes it look darker than I'm used to. I surreptitiously studied it a little, and have full confidence that the dark is due to the length, and not the result of some man-made product. (However, you should drop everything in order to see Eric's hair this coming Tuesday night.)
The biggest stressor for Him has been the conceptualization, planning, and acquisition of performancewear, and I'm happy to report that yesterday represented a huge success in that area. The remaining concerns are: tasteful splash of pocket square color, yes or no?, and can we get Sundin Hall repainted a tasteful warm white in the next ten days? As you can well understand, a *lot* of brain time and energy is going into these last details. And oh by the way, classes, labs, papers, finals, piles of work, blah, blah, blah.
I suppose, for the sake of full disclosure, I should add that He's had a migraine every day this week due to His delicate nature, and is pretty much just living on Imitrex.
As you probably know, He's a Myers-Briggs J (INFJ, actually) and his J-ness is craving completion. Craving. Catastrophically. Ready to explode. I am a P, and my P-ness points out once again that finishing this chapter is about stamina and time management. He's hurtling to the finish line, which is rushing toward him at the speed of light.
Over and out.
. . .heh. heh. heh. she said P-ness. . .
- posted by the Sous Blogger, on behalf of the Blogger Himself
I did actually see The Blogger Himself In Person this week. He played very well at piano club Thursday night. I bought a little bio-feedback thingy when I was in Boston, and we all tried playing piano while it was monitoring stress levels. Details of this experiment will be reported at another time, due to HIPAA regulations. I can tell you, though, that his programme for the recital is so beautiful, and the music he's finding in it is so rich, you're out of your mind if you don't cancel the rest of your life in order to attend.
Thursday, May 21, 7:30 PM.
Sundin Hall on the Hamline campus.
In other news, His hair is longer than I've seen it ever, except in pictures from junior high, which makes it look darker than I'm used to. I surreptitiously studied it a little, and have full confidence that the dark is due to the length, and not the result of some man-made product. (However, you should drop everything in order to see Eric's hair this coming Tuesday night.)
The biggest stressor for Him has been the conceptualization, planning, and acquisition of performancewear, and I'm happy to report that yesterday represented a huge success in that area. The remaining concerns are: tasteful splash of pocket square color, yes or no?, and can we get Sundin Hall repainted a tasteful warm white in the next ten days? As you can well understand, a *lot* of brain time and energy is going into these last details. And oh by the way, classes, labs, papers, finals, piles of work, blah, blah, blah.
I suppose, for the sake of full disclosure, I should add that He's had a migraine every day this week due to His delicate nature, and is pretty much just living on Imitrex.
As you probably know, He's a Myers-Briggs J (INFJ, actually) and his J-ness is craving completion. Craving. Catastrophically. Ready to explode. I am a P, and my P-ness points out once again that finishing this chapter is about stamina and time management. He's hurtling to the finish line, which is rushing toward him at the speed of light.
Over and out.
. . .heh. heh. heh. she said P-ness. . .
- posted by the Sous Blogger, on behalf of the Blogger Himself
5.07.2009
Full circle
research teeth. So super duper special. I kind of sucked at the honors
recital. Fine.
5.06.2009
Whirling dervish
Oh, hello. To Bemidji. Funeral. Back from Bemidji. Way too much work. Practice piano. A million other things. Blah.
Tomorrow, no class. It's Honors Day. I will play in the Honors Recital. One movement from the Ravel Sonatine. Four minutes and done.
Then, I give my NCUR presentation one more time. For all of you unable to make it to LaCrosse (which was, let's face it, all of you), here's a great excuse to skip out of work and listen to some academic-speak. It promises to be hegemonorrific. And more than a little moist.
Because I know you won't want to miss it:
Multidisciplinary Scholarship Panel Presentation
Session II: 3:15-4:30 p.m.
Giddens/Alumni Learning Center, Room 106W
In addition to my presentation, the other panelists will include:
a. “About Me": Self Disclosure on the Social Networking Site, Facebook - A Cross Cultural and Cross Gender Content Analysis
b. Robots, Pilots, and the Endless Waltz of Battle: Examining Japanese Postwar Historical Consciousness through the Mecha Anime Genre
c. Dystopian Film: The Paradox of Critical Entertainment
Good stuff, all.
Tomorrow, no class. It's Honors Day. I will play in the Honors Recital. One movement from the Ravel Sonatine. Four minutes and done.
Then, I give my NCUR presentation one more time. For all of you unable to make it to LaCrosse (which was, let's face it, all of you), here's a great excuse to skip out of work and listen to some academic-speak. It promises to be hegemonorrific. And more than a little moist.
Because I know you won't want to miss it:
Multidisciplinary Scholarship Panel Presentation
Session II: 3:15-4:30 p.m.
Giddens/Alumni Learning Center, Room 106W
In addition to my presentation, the other panelists will include:
a. “About Me": Self Disclosure on the Social Networking Site, Facebook - A Cross Cultural and Cross Gender Content Analysis
b. Robots, Pilots, and the Endless Waltz of Battle: Examining Japanese Postwar Historical Consciousness through the Mecha Anime Genre
c. Dystopian Film: The Paradox of Critical Entertainment
Good stuff, all.
5.03.2009
5.02.2009
A bar with a view
4.30.2009
Die Blumen
an exam) was half so appealing.
4.29.2009
Jesus feels better with a Persian rug in the den
He doesn't, however, feel so good that I left my SA fountain soda tumbler in the photo. There's another one (rug, not soda, and no they don't match because that would be gross) by the piano. And there's a third one crying piteously that I left it behind. I may have to rectify that. It was also fun to see one of the original Wayzata estates, built in 1929.
One for the ladies who love the ladies
From xkcd:
This morning's blog prolificacy, by the bye, is NOT about piano practice avoidance. It is about German grammar review avoidance. Very different animals.
Lame lame
One of Hamline's most pathetic entities is the Office of Commuter Connections. This is Hamline's attempt to make its increasingly non-resident students feel welcome and loved. The commuter lounge is in a dark, unattractive basement (having been kicked out of newly remodeled prime real estate in the library earlier this year), and serves absolutely no purpose. Every so often the office, in an attempt to justify its existence, offers superfun events. Today's special doings include "guess what's in the jar and win a $15 gas card." Woohoo! But, even better (sit down before you read this, because it is soooo exciting):
We will also have board games and amazing snacks like Doritos, Wheat Thins, Lays barbeque chips, baked Lays, Oreos, Ritz Bitz, and a lot more!!I. Can. Hardly. Wait.
Something's coming
When I woke up yesterday morning, something had changed. I had been waiting for it, and knew that it would hit soon, but was unsure exactly when. A very precise but hard-to-define feeling: as of yesterday, everything I do is about performing my recital. It's almost a physical sensation. Chores and studying and work are either an irritating interruption or welcome distraction from practicing. If I'm online I'm either avoiding the piano or taking a well-deserved break. If I'm not thinking about the music itself, I'm humming or mindlessly tapping it on my knee. I'm very inwardly focused, which makes me seem rude and selfish (some of you might not note much of a difference). I'm reminded a bit of a certain skier/triathlete I know, the morning of a race. Except—lucky Eric—I'm still more than three weeks away from the event.
4.28.2009
What to wear?
suberb, features teal upholstery, neo-something columns, and past-its-
prime-salmon walls? Surely I can't be the only one fretting about this.
Things I'd rather do than attend bio lab today
1. Practice the piano
2. Eat a decent lunch
3. Anything
4.27.2009
It's official
I have senioritis. I have zero interest in learning anything. I am irritated by the pathetic pedagogical attempts of every teacher I have ever had, and particularly those I have now (no offense). I resent all homework, every exam, each moment I must spend looking up some lame word or term. I hate the time it takes to log on a computer at the library. I hate the way the worker's glove looks condensed with moisture at the Klas snack bar. I want to burn all my textbooks. I hate the humid, musty, neglected smell of the music building. I hate all the handmade posters on butcher paper on the railings of every building for dance team tryouts, choir concerts, and student government involvement. I want to be a normal adult, with normal problems. I want nothing to do with children who think the fall of the Berlin Wall coincides with the civil war and the alleged birth of Christ. In short: I. Am. Done.
Except for that I'm not.
4.25.2009
4.23.2009
Form, meet function
Humble materials, basic design, but a great result. These are littered about the courtyard of a new apartment building near us; Viggo and I stopped to admire during our warm, windy walk.
4.22.2009
4.20.2009
Triptych
Kitchen counter detail, Still Life with Bowls and Unsightly Cords
Kitchen counter, upon our return this evening
The responsible party
Nothing broken, and nothing in the bowls in the first place. Just a very curious, very smart, very bad dog.
Kitchen counter, upon our return this evening
The responsible party
Nothing broken, and nothing in the bowls in the first place. Just a very curious, very smart, very bad dog.
4.18.2009
I heart LaCrosse
This morning, I made it my mission to support the economy of downtown LaCrosse until I can return. Grabbed an au lait at Grounded Specialty Coffee, then breakfast (again) at Fayze's. I stumbled into Leithold's Music, which has been in business since the late 1800's (and looks it). A community band was rehearsing in the basement, and I perused obscure scores, the likes of which I haven't seen since shopping in Chicago several years ago. Weird. I got 50% off original prices (and some of those original prices were from the 1980s) on piano and organ music by Wallingford Riegger, Robert Casadesus, Ron Boud, Jan Bender, William Bates, Donald Busarow, Adrian Self, Noel Goemanne, and a kickass suite of compositions by Flor Peeters arranged for harpsichord and chamber organ, which Doppelgänger and I will someday perform. Then it was off to Dale Street Clothing, one of those odd stores, like a clothing store we like in Fargo, that has all sorts of cool stuff you don't expect to see in a smaller market. Three shirts and a jacket later (again, 50% off), I headed to Pearl Street Books and picked up works by Oliver Sacks and Truman Capote. Finally, I ran into friends at Pearl Street Confectioners, where I knew I'd need to procure Eric some candy, and ended up getting ice cream with them, for the third time this trip. I will come rolling home shortly. This trip has been great fun.
Where's my book?
If I am reading this correctly, Going40 would have a book deal by now if my readership worked harder. Get on that.
4.17.2009
Our Queen
going to hike up a bluff tomorrow morning and plant it in a castle
that someone saw above campus. Don't ask. Things have degenerated
quite a bit.
An intimate dinner for 37
The Hamline kiddies, faculty, and I are all having dinner tonight, on
Hamline's dime. We are laughing a lot, and Prof K just ate an entire
bloomin' onion. Good times.
Hamline's dime. We are laughing a lot, and Prof K just ate an entire
bloomin' onion. Good times.
[typos courtesy of iPhone]
My European vacation
Cathedral, built in 1962. Kind of stunning in a Wisconsin kind of way.
4.16.2009
NCUR Presentation
I'll be presenting in just over an hour. I've only managed to re-edit my presentation about 47 times, but I think I'll be okay. You can follow along with the admittedly eclectic visual aids at Everyone's a Critic.
Good morning, boys and girls
It's been quite the adventure thus far, here in LaCrosse. I decided to walk to the university last night to register, using the if-I-were-a-university-in-a-medium-sized-town-where-would-I-be method. So instead of walking 1.6 miles, I walked about 3.5. Now I rely on the shuttles.
This is a crazy operation. Very organized: tote bags, water bottles, presentation books, schedules, signage everywhere, and so forth. Which is appropriate, given that 2,500 of us are presenting over three days. Someone is making a killing on this racket.
I spent most of last night holed up in my room, editing my presentation, and creating a visual representation to show via blog whilst I'm dropping the pears of wisdom. I'll link to that later (don't want to give away the good stuff yet).
Now I'm all dressed up, ready to catch a shuttle to UWLA. I'm going to catch some other presentations before my own at 2:45pm. I will also be posting some of my favorite project titles, because, holy crap, people will research just. about. anything.
Here we go!
This is a crazy operation. Very organized: tote bags, water bottles, presentation books, schedules, signage everywhere, and so forth. Which is appropriate, given that 2,500 of us are presenting over three days. Someone is making a killing on this racket.
I spent most of last night holed up in my room, editing my presentation, and creating a visual representation to show via blog whilst I'm dropping the pears of wisdom. I'll link to that later (don't want to give away the good stuff yet).
Now I'm all dressed up, ready to catch a shuttle to UWLA. I'm going to catch some other presentations before my own at 2:45pm. I will also be posting some of my favorite project titles, because, holy crap, people will research just. about. anything.
Here we go!
4.15.2009
This bar
Is named The Piggy, which is unfortunate, though I hope it means the
pork is good. It could also be named The Cougar, because the clientele
looks they're all here to audition for The Real Housewives of LaCrosse
County. Who knew that silicone was so readily available in this part
of Wisconsin?
pork is good. It could also be named The Cougar, because the clientele
looks they're all here to audition for The Real Housewives of LaCrosse
County. Who knew that silicone was so readily available in this part
of Wisconsin?
Von meinem iPhone gesendet
Registration
When I finally get on my computer I'll catch you up. A looong trip to
the Uni to register (because I'm dumb). For now, a nice bar, a glass
of wine, and pulled pork while I review my presentation.
the Uni to register (because I'm dumb). For now, a nice bar, a glass
of wine, and pulled pork while I review my presentation.
Von meinem iPhone gesendet
So far, bored
Most of the kids are in the back of the bus. Very quiet close to the
front. I've already been annoyed by an earnest conversation about
literary theorists. I should have brought a People magazine.
front. I've already been annoyed by an earnest conversation about
literary theorists. I should have brought a People magazine.
Von meinem iPhone gesendet
Riding the bus (not with my sister)
point of a four day college trip. NCUR 2009 (where N stands for nerd;
and yes Prof K, I include myself in that category). I'll do my best to
bring you the highlights. There may be some lowlights, too. But for
now, all aboard the Northfield Lines charter.
4.14.2009
4.12.2009
Children of the corn
Early on, our Sous Blogger learned that if you want someone to make you a meal, go sit on the ingredients until it happens.
But I brought dessert
photos surreptitiously taken by Eric M. EM made this tart first (and
best, of course). He also was kind enough to supply an extra crust's
worth of dough, which given how comatose I feel right now, was a huge
and delicious help.
Loveliness
have to be responsible for dinner after Easter churching. Perfect
roast rack of pork, potato gratin, roast asparagus and all the
trimmings. Thank you so much, Judy.
4.11.2009
Sous Blogger: Holding out on us
So the Sous Blogger and Consort are viewing old slides tonight, she tells me. Projector, screen, the whole nine yards. Evidently the show includes our very own SB parasailing in Mexico. Can any of you think of one reason that those slides are not being uploaded to this blog immediately? I can not.
Adoration of the cross
I can think of few things worth suffering the pain of death by crucifixion: saving the world from itself? Sure, if you're into that kind of thing. But also, my mother's hot cross buns (though I have messed with the recipe enough that these are no longer exactly my mother's hot cross buns). Mother never began by soaking the currants and golden raisins in brandy. I also omit the fruitcake mix (red food coloring tastes like cancer). New this year, I added cardamom to the dough (there's already cinnamon), and, bowing, to Minnesota tradition, I added glazed crosses. Mother always snipped the tops of the rolls with a scissors into a supposed cross form, and sprinkled sugar into the wound, but I don't think anyone ever figured out those were crosses. Anyhoo. I am going to try not to eat the entire two dozen of them before I have to take them to dinner tomorrow afternoon.
Take that, winter
And that.
And that.
And that, three more times. Yes, it was a little chilly planting. But I don't care; the pansies make the porch habitable for a few weeks, at least until school is over and I can turn my attention to full-time porch-sitting. It's sunny, hot cross buns are on their second rising (raising? resurrection? allegory?), and the family is napping. Life. Not. Bad.
4.09.2009
Hell week
Or as some might call it, Holy Week. Except in our house it's also tech week for MN Opera, so in addition to all the church gigs, Eric is away until 11:30 every night for Barber of Seville rehearsal. Viggo is a latchkey kid. Our meals consist of cookies.
There is no point to this post.
4.08.2009
4.07.2009
Veggie tale
So I'm sitting in the lecture hall before our biodiversity test, minding everyone else's business, when I notice that the woman in front of me has on her desk—along with her No. 2 pencil, eraser, and coffee—an oddity: a yellow bell pepper. Surely this isn't a snack? I wonder. Maybe it's some sort of pre-test ritual; or perhaps she has Salad 101 right after this class. Anyhoo. The exam is distributed, I get to work and forget about the produce until—CRUNCH—Pepper Gal starts chomping away, eating the stir fry ingredient as though it were a ripe juicy apple. I want to remain the open-minded, easygoing guy you've come to know and love, but is this what passes for snack food nowadays? Is she normal? Am I?
4.06.2009
Do the math
Chocolate cake + ganache + caramel + toasted pecans =
Turtle cake, where turtle means way too much sugar than is good for a person.
4.05.2009
A final element
them extra crispy and crunchy. Time for a run, then I'll try to
assemble these four ingredients into something edible. It doesn't look
promising, I know.
4.04.2009
Takehome from today's piano master class
Is there anything in this works more boring than listening to Haydn?
(The correct answer is yes: TALKING about Haydn is way worse.)
Von meinem iPhone gesendet
4.03.2009
Wild boars
serious damage in the Silence of the Lambs sequel.
Flamingos
pink--glad they don't overdo it.
Lemurs
of rare rodent piled up by a "hidden" back door waiting for dinner.
Waiting for the train.
children are verboten.
Learner on monorail
- posted by SousBlogger Deb
What I hate: Live-blogging a field trip
I hate:
- Pedophiles
- Circuses (where pedophiles work)
- Clowns (pedophile uniforms)
- Zoos (where pedophiles lurk)
4.02.2009
Showing you how it's done
Any entries to the new Going40 contest are going to have to be stellar, because we nailed it. And stuck the landing.
(Thanks to Meema for capturing this candid shot.)
(Thanks to Meema for capturing this candid shot.)
New Going40 contest
Take a photo of yourself recreating the pose shown below and send it in. The person who comes closest to attaining the perfect pose wins a prize—and my admiration for all eternity. I suppose there should be a prize for the most pitiful attempt as well. Actually, there will be a prize for anyone who attempts this. And I'd want you to sign an insurance waiver.
4.01.2009
3.31.2009
My blog, my prerogative
I don't post many family pictures (this isn't a family blog; after all, Chef Kyle referred to a hoo-ha in a comment a few days ago). But, look how cute is my youngest niece, Torii (yes, she's named after the baseball player). And, her mom (my sister first) made her this adorable shirt out of an IKEA PILLOW CASE! Go, Jenny! We Rohrs can do stuff, ya know?
Monetize
Google really wants me to have ads on my blog. There have always been three tabs for producing the blog: Posting, Settings, Layout. Now they've added a fourth: Monetize. Turning ads on (and hopefully off) now takes approximately.031478 seconds. I was curious what would show up, ads tailored to my blog and (I presume) readership. First ad: Bundt cake recipe. Second: See how Rachel Ray Lost 30 Pounds. And, we're done with the ads experiment on Going40.
Almost spring (but scroll down for Going40's actual blog post today)
There's never been a day like this day to me. . .
A childhood song, except that I think the day in question was meant to
be a good thing. It's so shitty outside right now and by outside I
mean outside the windows of the 21 bus which is taking me to school at
a snail's pace. I forgot a book. Except for my biology book and who
wants to read that (even though I barely skimmed the reading for
today). And maybe I'm new to the ways of the bus world--this being
Eric's domain--but shouldn't there be a rule about talking to
strangers if you're icky? As in, don't. Almost to the midtown station.
Only four more hours to go. Last night we rearranged almost all the
furniture in our house and it's ever so much better. We both agreed we
hated having the new tv in the bedroom so we moved it out into the
main room. We're now calling that corner of the space the den because
neither of us believes in having the tv in the living room. All of
south Minneapolis just got on the bus. If you have headphones on I
shouldn't be able to hear your music. Or smell you. I'm really ready
for school to be done. Does anyone know a good sports psychologist?
I'm really having trouble memorizing piano music. I've always had that
trouble but the problem seems particularly acute now. May 21 is, like,
tomorrow. Almost to Hiawatha. It seems like I'm not saying much given
the distance but this is good stuff using only my thumb. At the
light rail station. Very tempting to take it to the airport and hop on
the next flight south. Even if just for a few hours. Fourteen folks
exited at Arby's. Mr. Smelly Pump Up the Jam opts to stay put. Any
ideas about what I should with the rest of my life? Not too many
takers at Denny's today but the McDonald's drivethru is doing a brisk
business. I happen to know that Prof K lives very nearby this next
intersection. Not going to be happy if I see that Prius glide silently
by. Here's my old office. I'd rather be on this bus forever. I can
even see them in there. Kind of surreal. When does the coffee cart
come by? At the Mussissiopi. I left that spelling to show how poorly
iPhone's auto correct sometimes works. Though you can be sure it
always corrects iPhone, even if I meant to spell vagina. Which I never
do. Who knew the 21D doesn't go to Snelling but turns on Cretin? I
didn't. But now I'm outside. Now back on a bus. Oops. Got on a 53 by
accident. Have no idea what I'm doing. Though getting to class on time
doesn't seem likely. Very curious. Hope to hop off before turning. Not
sure if I have more cash for another bus ride. Almost to Snelling.
That's good. Turning. The right way. Oops. East 94 would have been a
bad idea. Nice of the driver to let me off. Wet walk north. The bus I
next needed just splashed me going over the freeway. Next one not for
20 minutes. Now I walk. Thanks for riding along.
be a good thing. It's so shitty outside right now and by outside I
mean outside the windows of the 21 bus which is taking me to school at
a snail's pace. I forgot a book. Except for my biology book and who
wants to read that (even though I barely skimmed the reading for
today). And maybe I'm new to the ways of the bus world--this being
Eric's domain--but shouldn't there be a rule about talking to
strangers if you're icky? As in, don't. Almost to the midtown station.
Only four more hours to go. Last night we rearranged almost all the
furniture in our house and it's ever so much better. We both agreed we
hated having the new tv in the bedroom so we moved it out into the
main room. We're now calling that corner of the space the den because
neither of us believes in having the tv in the living room. All of
south Minneapolis just got on the bus. If you have headphones on I
shouldn't be able to hear your music. Or smell you. I'm really ready
for school to be done. Does anyone know a good sports psychologist?
I'm really having trouble memorizing piano music. I've always had that
trouble but the problem seems particularly acute now. May 21 is, like,
tomorrow. Almost to Hiawatha. It seems like I'm not saying much given
the distance but this is good stuff using only my thumb. At the
light rail station. Very tempting to take it to the airport and hop on
the next flight south. Even if just for a few hours. Fourteen folks
exited at Arby's. Mr. Smelly Pump Up the Jam opts to stay put. Any
ideas about what I should with the rest of my life? Not too many
takers at Denny's today but the McDonald's drivethru is doing a brisk
business. I happen to know that Prof K lives very nearby this next
intersection. Not going to be happy if I see that Prius glide silently
by. Here's my old office. I'd rather be on this bus forever. I can
even see them in there. Kind of surreal. When does the coffee cart
come by? At the Mussissiopi. I left that spelling to show how poorly
iPhone's auto correct sometimes works. Though you can be sure it
always corrects iPhone, even if I meant to spell vagina. Which I never
do. Who knew the 21D doesn't go to Snelling but turns on Cretin? I
didn't. But now I'm outside. Now back on a bus. Oops. Got on a 53 by
accident. Have no idea what I'm doing. Though getting to class on time
doesn't seem likely. Very curious. Hope to hop off before turning. Not
sure if I have more cash for another bus ride. Almost to Snelling.
That's good. Turning. The right way. Oops. East 94 would have been a
bad idea. Nice of the driver to let me off. Wet walk north. The bus I
next needed just splashed me going over the freeway. Next one not for
20 minutes. Now I walk. Thanks for riding along.
Von meinem iPhone gesendet
3.30.2009
A comeback, of sorts
German midterm grade: A-. During the conference (much like parent/teacher conferences, except in this instance I was the parent of me), it was also suggested that I talk too much in class. I. Am. Shocked. Shocked, I say. So then I immediately went into class and whispered to Caite that I got in trouble for talking too much in class. Coincidentally, so did she! We are dumbfounded.
3.28.2009
Caramel apple spice cake with candied pecans
3.26.2009
What do you see when Eric cries?
A Vollen tear.
Can you tell I'm at a Vollen family dinner? Evidently that's a time-
honored family funny joke.
Von meinem iPhone gesendet
Draft Eric
Can you think of anyone who more fits the bill than eWAC? He's refusing to apply, afraid that he'll bungle an answer about world peace. Please join me in recruiting him to this endeavor.
3.24.2009
Whee!
Deb and Phil have a brand new Wii. If you don't know them, you don't know how perfectly their Miis capture their essence. Or iissence. I had absolutely no permission to post this photo.
I am disturbed.
I love to bake cakes, I love babies, I love to give cakes to baby-makers, and so forth and so on. However. I draw the line at making babies. Both via the traditional icky way, but especially out of marzipan. That's right, these babies taste like almond paste.
Can a Nobel be far behind?
Midterm grade in Biodiversity & Conservation Biology: A
I was hoping to graduate this spring, but I think I have a gift for remedial science. Perhaps I need to pursue that further.
I was hoping to graduate this spring, but I think I have a gift for remedial science. Perhaps I need to pursue that further.
3.22.2009
Real World: Minneapolis
Sometimes blogging fills out an experience, sometimes it supplants one, or fills in the space where one doesn't seem to exist. And sometimes, it's just gets in the way. I start spring break tomorrow, and while it won't be much of a break (I need to be chained to the piano), I am looking forward to a change in routine, and a chance to regroup. Like you, I have projects I never seem to get done: prepare my taxes, file some school paperwork, etc. I have a fair amount of freelance work, some academic projects, and did I mention practicing?
Several people have asked me what comes next, post-graduation, and someone recently asked me what happens post-Going40. I hadn't really considered the end of Going40, but a new adventure will crop up, and I'll be sure to bring you along for the ride. Until then, let's enjoy the last few weeks of craziness.
Several people have asked me what comes next, post-graduation, and someone recently asked me what happens post-Going40. I hadn't really considered the end of Going40, but a new adventure will crop up, and I'll be sure to bring you along for the ride. Until then, let's enjoy the last few weeks of craziness.
3.20.2009
Chocolate cake
bake something, have a baby.
Spring is here, my ass
But in German, we're watching those crazy guys from the Weimarer Republik, Die Comedian Harmonists, who sing, "Veronica, der Lenz ist da [Veronica, spring is here]." They go on to compare asparagus to their own growing tumescence. Charming, no? I can't get the damn song out of my head.
3.18.2009
How dare they?!?!?
How can whoopie pies be "having their moment" if Scooterpie, A Bakery hasn't even yet opened for business?
3.17.2009
Geeky stuff
In April I'll be presenting at the 23rd National Conference on Undergraduate Research. From a purely academic standpoint, I'm excited to be doing this, and working on my presentation so as not to embarrass you (and especially Prof K). From a Going40ina20Zone standpoint, this weekend will epitomize the blog title. Thousands of young undergrads converging on LaCrosse. And me. Check out the event site here. You can search presentations. Lots of interesting topics and abstracts, and plenty that I simply don't understand.
3.16.2009
New blog idea: list of foods I've eaten
This weekend was an orgy of good food made by people I love. The McIrishyIrishes made the most delicious cornedbeefcolcannonglazedcarrotscabbageirishsodabreadguinesschocolatecake I have ever had. Then last night Eric gave Deb a lesson on how to bake his most perfectest multigrain sandwich bread (if you haven't had it, we must not love you), and she made the absolute best split pea soup I have ever consumed. It seriously rocked the legume house. Word. I may give up cooking and just go from friend to friend, begging for my supper.
3.13.2009
A quick Thursday supper. Yawn.
From top: Trio of caviar blinis (the middle one was the best); Salad of hearts of palm, Bairdi crab, mango, and vanilla bean—lime vinaigrette (my date had to crack one of my crab legs open because it poked me in the hand and hurt me, and also it was messy and I had to go wash my hands. Eric M was equally pansyish); Romesco-crusted haddock over smoked mashed potatoes (yes, Virginia, there is a Jesus), and saffron butter sauce; Seared duck breast with braised greens, fried grits cake, Laughing Bird shrimp, and truffled cream (I am dedicating my life to the pursuit of fried grit cakes); Tres leches cake with mexican chocolate meringue and pineapple; His Royal Hotness, Chef Kyle.
This was an Oceanaire wine dinner, featuring J Wines. The food and wine pairings were great, but just let me say, J Wines, you got lucky. Your wines would have been nothing beyond above average without these plates elevating them. The food seriously outclassed the drink.
Also, isn't it amazing that I can eat like this on a weeknight and still maintain my 29-inch waist and gymnast form?
One downer: it was unfortunate that this dinner came the same day that we talked about marine ecosystems and fish sustainability in conservation biology class. Farmed, local, organic, not endangered, it doesn't really matter: bad, bad humans.
Stimulus package
I totally love my new tradition of heterosexual Thursday date night. Last night Erin and I left the kids with a babysitter and went to the J Winery dinner at Oceanaire. Okay, so maybe the romance was dimmed a bit by her husband being the chef, and six other friends at the table, and me texting Eric about all he was missing. But still, I think Erin and I look like a perfectly happy couple. Or at least a couple whose dirty little secrets haven't yet surfaced.
3.11.2009
Our loss
- posted by the Sous Blogger
Peter Kramer has posted his last blog entry, which will be a huge loss.
His very thoughtful final essay can be found here:
http://blogs.psychologytoday.com/blog/in-practice
Deb
Peter Kramer has posted his last blog entry, which will be a huge loss.
His very thoughtful final essay can be found here:
http://blogs.psychologytoday.com/blog/in-practice
Deb
3.10.2009
The Unforgiving Minute
The Unforgiving Minute is not only a description of your current visit to Going40, but the title of a book by a young West Point-educated, Rhodes Scholar-winning soldier, Crait Mullaney. He was just interviewed by Jon Stewart, source of America's worthwhile news. I'm not big on the war stuff, but I think I might read this book. Perhaps it's our next Going40 group read. Here's the Times take on it.
Biodiversity indeed
We got our first bio exams back today. B+, which I'm not thrilled with, but it's fine for the first exam of the semester. But here's the interesting thing: Prof Dan showed us a graph of the grade spread. 37% of the class earned an A or B. Not bad. 15% got a C. Doing the math? Let me help (putting my J-term skills to use): a whopping 45% of my colleagues managed a D or F. The test wasn't that hard, but if you didn't study at all, I suppose you'd do badly. I don't want to judge, but this doesn't seem like a simple lack of preparation; it just seems like bad guessing. It was mostly multiple choice, for Pete's sake.
Speaking of bio, we're now looking at the effects of human consumption on ecosystems. We as a species don't come out well in these lectures. The most depressing PowerPoint slide of the day:
Humans are the dominant species of every ecosystem on earth
- Half of all ice-free land has been transformed by humans
- Humans add more nitrogen to the biosphere than all natural processes combined
- By 2050, humans will double concentrations of atmospheric carbon dioxide
Slow down those Priuses, people.
3.09.2009
Before and After
This weekend I made a delicious coconut cake for a fancy-schmancy dinner party. Based on a Paul Prudhomme classic, this cake is a pain in the frickin' ass to make. Four components: butter cake, coconut cream filling, glazing syrup, and cream cheese frosting. But it's good (all four sticks of butter worth of good). It turned out, as you can see from photo below.
Before continuing, I should remind you that Eric left me. For a week in Alaska. Why is this relevant? Because I had to go to the dinner party by myself, which meant that I had to both drive and hold the cake. Really, I couldn't do both, so I just drove, that seeming like the less optional task. Wrong, as you can see from photo below.
I wish I had taken a photo of after After, because I managed to restore it quite well (Helpful hint: always pipe big rosettes of frosting on top of your cake. You can use the globs as mortar post-disaster). And I was sure to serve it from the kitchen, so everyone just saw lovely slices of cake. I passed around the iPhone so they could see how the dessert would have looked in more ideal circumstances.
To post or not to post
When the big guy makes the news, I feel that I must share. I know that many of you immediately think of Shakespeare when you pay Going40 a visit. For those who don't, some evidence:
- The award-winning Going40 limericks rival the sonnets.
- Much-revered Prof K is the world's leading authority on Shakespeare and gayness (there might be more to it than that; I'm hoping she'll clarify). And, she will soon have a gilt-edged, leather-from-endangered-hides book published to prove it.
- Ann is suffering mightily in western Minnesota, imparting Wisdom and Knowledge to her high school English students, while we worry if the free-range chickens at the Wedge were really happy. Also, she goes to the Guthrie and Winona more than we do.
- Our own Sous Blogger is a Shakespeare denier (I figure there's no way of preventing her from clarifying). Worse, she too will probably be ex-ex-communicated by the beady-eyed German guy in Rome.
3.06.2009
In which justice, if not served, is at least on the menu
Things you should know on this Friday night:
1. Eric has left me. For a week. With his father and brother for a week of skiing in Alaska. It all balances out.
2. I make damn good soup. Without a recipe. I just pick a couple ingredients that sound good and vamp. This week it was white bean and hot italian sausage. I can't stop eating it.
3. The deadbeat paid me today. Not all of it. But a lot of it. I don't expect to see the rest. Then again, I didn't expect to see any of it. I am exhausted from the threatening communications. But I got me some money.
4. This weekend I am memorizing the Chopin Barcarolle. Nine measures of the piece I simply can't play. Maybe we'll all just have a singalong during that portion of the program.
5. Remember how I didn't mind not having a TV? I'd mind now. And my new favorite time-waster is House. Good show.
6. My rib is getting better. It still hurts like a sonofagun to sneeze. Four ibuprofen at 4pm work miracles.
7. Ready for spring? I was until I realized how cool my new sweater will be. I hope to have it finished in two weeks.
8. I looked forward to renting a RedBox movie tonight. The magic box had nothing worthing renting. Nothing. You must be pinching yourself, unable to believe how lucky you are that you read this blog.
3.05.2009
The end of civilization, Part 3,783
I just screamed at the TV after seeing a new ad for Balneol lotion. Screamed with glee, I might add. It's possibly my favorite tag line of all time.
Balneol lotion: Soothing relief for "down there."
And yes, they added the quote marks all by themselves.
Balneol lotion: Soothing relief for "down there."
And yes, they added the quote marks all by themselves.
Another reason . . .
. . . for a house and a yard. Besides a second Vizsla. And a vegetable garden. Behold, the perfect* bird feeder. It would look so nice next to the perfect planter.
Also, the perfect chicken coop.
*Perfect, bythebye, only means that I like it. It may only attract vultures and carp for all I know. That's not my problem.
Thanks to JM, seriously not-busy-enough church musician, for these links. Lent is evidently not what it used to be.
Also, the perfect chicken coop.
*Perfect, bythebye, only means that I like it. It may only attract vultures and carp for all I know. That's not my problem.
Thanks to JM, seriously not-busy-enough church musician, for these links. Lent is evidently not what it used to be.
3.04.2009
Feels like love to me. . .
- posted by the Sous Blogger
It’s become apparent that it’s up to me to provide blog content this week.
I thought we’d talk about a book that’s become a pop standard in the world of relationship counseling. I heard about it originally from a client who’s a Christian counselor, which made me hesitate, but there’s a good central idea in it. It’s easy to teach, and the religion part didn’t whack me over the head.
Another part of my early bias against this book is that it was written by a man, and what on earth could a man say about relationships that would be useful? (OK, I have completely repented from my earlier sexist belief about that. For new readers, I am a second-wave feminist, left-of-liberal, straight psychologist. And I actually like men. A lot of men. OK, some men. Anyway, I’m not a man-bashing feminist.) (Moving on. . . )
The book has a cheesy title, in my opinion: “The Five Love Languages,” written by Gary Chapman. Since it was first published in 1992, Mr. Chapman has created a kind of Love Language/Chicken Soup franchise, and I can’t vouch for any of the subsequent iterations.
In the original book, there’s a very strong section on the nature of adult love (Chapter 3, right around page 30) which talks about loving vs. being “in love,” heat/romance/chemistry vs. partnership.
The premise of the book is that we all need to give and receive love in several ways, and it’s helpful to know what your own “love language” is (see, the words are kind of cringe-making). And, just as important, to know the love language of your partner, or your friends, or you kids, or your boss. (Thus the franchise, I guess.)
Chapman says there are five ways that we can show love, and perceive love. In a healthy relationship all five are happening, but we each have our own hierarchy of importance for them. We do better if we give and receive love according to what feels like love to the other person, and we have to know what that is in order to do it.
Here’s the list:
1. words of affirmation (saying I love you, saying thank you, speaking carefully in a hard conversation, giving compliments, verbalizing appreciation)
2. quality time (spending time together, shared activities, being mindfully engaged with the person and not just two lumps in front of the TV)
As an aside, there was a nice little piece in the NYTimes a few months ago about old relationships that have lost their energy. It said that people need to do *new* things together, and not always go back to the same old same old. Doing what we’ve always done, even in the name of tradition, is the stuff of staleness. Discovering new stuff together feels like dating.
3. gifts (we have a friend who swoons when she gets flowers. she calls herself a flower slut - flowers feel like love to her. on the other hand, i despise red roses delivered from the florist. i’ve seen too many relationships where the guy - yes, it’s usually the guy - behaves terribly, and then calls Bachman’s the next morning with a credit card number, thinking it’s all fixed now. fortunately, mr. sous knows this about me, and brings home flowers from the grocery store, along with the milk, bread and peanut butter.)
4. acts of service (my own personal favorite. make me a grilled cheese sandwich? Oh. My. God. that feels like love. be in charge of the recycling? I swoon. you are soooooo hot. finish painting the dining room? GASPING!! you’re like a god to me. OK, yes, I wish it hadn’t taken 15 months, but OMG that feels like love.)
5. physical touch (sexual and non-sexual)
I like that there’s only five on the list. It’s a manageable number. And it’s kind of a fun conversation to figure out the order of your list, and of a partner.
(This blog post was sponsored by my 11:00 patient, who blew me off, and will be billed for the time. And now, back to The Caring.)
It’s become apparent that it’s up to me to provide blog content this week.
I thought we’d talk about a book that’s become a pop standard in the world of relationship counseling. I heard about it originally from a client who’s a Christian counselor, which made me hesitate, but there’s a good central idea in it. It’s easy to teach, and the religion part didn’t whack me over the head.
Another part of my early bias against this book is that it was written by a man, and what on earth could a man say about relationships that would be useful? (OK, I have completely repented from my earlier sexist belief about that. For new readers, I am a second-wave feminist, left-of-liberal, straight psychologist. And I actually like men. A lot of men. OK, some men. Anyway, I’m not a man-bashing feminist.) (Moving on. . . )
The book has a cheesy title, in my opinion: “The Five Love Languages,” written by Gary Chapman. Since it was first published in 1992, Mr. Chapman has created a kind of Love Language/Chicken Soup franchise, and I can’t vouch for any of the subsequent iterations.
In the original book, there’s a very strong section on the nature of adult love (Chapter 3, right around page 30) which talks about loving vs. being “in love,” heat/romance/chemistry vs. partnership.
The premise of the book is that we all need to give and receive love in several ways, and it’s helpful to know what your own “love language” is (see, the words are kind of cringe-making). And, just as important, to know the love language of your partner, or your friends, or you kids, or your boss. (Thus the franchise, I guess.)
Chapman says there are five ways that we can show love, and perceive love. In a healthy relationship all five are happening, but we each have our own hierarchy of importance for them. We do better if we give and receive love according to what feels like love to the other person, and we have to know what that is in order to do it.
Here’s the list:
1. words of affirmation (saying I love you, saying thank you, speaking carefully in a hard conversation, giving compliments, verbalizing appreciation)
2. quality time (spending time together, shared activities, being mindfully engaged with the person and not just two lumps in front of the TV)
As an aside, there was a nice little piece in the NYTimes a few months ago about old relationships that have lost their energy. It said that people need to do *new* things together, and not always go back to the same old same old. Doing what we’ve always done, even in the name of tradition, is the stuff of staleness. Discovering new stuff together feels like dating.
3. gifts (we have a friend who swoons when she gets flowers. she calls herself a flower slut - flowers feel like love to her. on the other hand, i despise red roses delivered from the florist. i’ve seen too many relationships where the guy - yes, it’s usually the guy - behaves terribly, and then calls Bachman’s the next morning with a credit card number, thinking it’s all fixed now. fortunately, mr. sous knows this about me, and brings home flowers from the grocery store, along with the milk, bread and peanut butter.)
4. acts of service (my own personal favorite. make me a grilled cheese sandwich? Oh. My. God. that feels like love. be in charge of the recycling? I swoon. you are soooooo hot. finish painting the dining room? GASPING!! you’re like a god to me. OK, yes, I wish it hadn’t taken 15 months, but OMG that feels like love.)
5. physical touch (sexual and non-sexual)
I like that there’s only five on the list. It’s a manageable number. And it’s kind of a fun conversation to figure out the order of your list, and of a partner.
(This blog post was sponsored by my 11:00 patient, who blew me off, and will be billed for the time. And now, back to The Caring.)
3.03.2009
3.02.2009
I know, I know
But I'm busy, and when I'm not, I'm knitting a really beautiful sweater, and it consumes me.
I'm studying for a Biodiversity test (still love the class, bythebye), and reading now of a concept known as the Tragedy of the Commons. Basically, it's economically best for each of us to use as much as possible of the resources available to all, screw the earth, screw the other guy. It's very deep. But I was thinking: a much more pertinent, interesting (sorry, Prof K) concept to me is the Tragedy of the Common. So. tragic. You know who you are (though none of you are reading this blog, I'm sure). Cheerio.
3.01.2009
The party's over
Sabbatical is over, and I'm back at St. Paul's this morning (which actually feels quite good, so the sabbatical must have worked).
In other news, my body having healed from gallbladder surgery, I took a spill during the storm this past week, and landed on my OTHER side, connecting with the corner of the handrail outside. It's a good thing I still have Vicodin, because I have bruised ribs. It's time for a nursing home.
2.26.2009
First flakes
The snow started at 12:03pm at our place, and it's already blowing sideways three minutes later. I am hoping for at least a foot, defying all prognosticators.
2.25.2009
The Church of Beethoven
Really, can the Church of Me be far behind?
Thanks to Jacob M, a fellow Episcopal church musician (and one who would establish his own religion in a heartbeat, though it would be a two-pronged faith: Saint Jake and Our Lady ) for alerting me to this.
2.24.2009
Late breaking news
We have a revised, final, official recital date:
Thursday, May 21, 2009
7:30pm
Sundin Music Hall
Hamline University
Just for me
I can be amazingly productive, knitwise, when faced with a lake cabin, giant fireplace, cocoa, and coziness, as I was this weekend. As an added bonus, I don't have to give away the finished object. It's a sweater for me (and Eric, when he steals it and stretches it out).
The end of culture
That horrid, awful, complete mockery of a musical is going to tour nationally. Laura Ingalls Wilder is NOT resting comfortably at the news.
2.20.2009
Tradition, reinforced and upended
Hello from Cable, Wisconsin. It's the time of year, when men and women of similarity insanity ski 50 kilometers up and down hills in the American Birkebeiner cross country ski race. We drove up (taking a different route), and are now at Telemark Lodge, while Eric finishes waxing his skis with his father. During this time I sit in front of the giant fireplace in the lobby. What's different this year is that a chimney fire this year means no fire. It's freaking cold in here. On the other hand, they've added wireless, so I have my MacBook to keep me warm.
We'll go to the beautiful cabin we rent in a bit, where Eric M and Burt and Sherpa Scott will be waiting, and we'll eat lasagna and relax. Actually, three of us will relax. Eric and Sherpa will nervously lay out their racing suits and skis and powergels and socks and crotchwarmers, etc. It will be a very early morning tomorrow, when I take Eric to the shuttle and send him off to the race. I then go to downtown Hayward, sit and drink coffee and knit and read, and then head to Main Street for the finish. Watching the most elite skiers in the world finish this race, in front of thousands of cheering, bell-ringing fans, is one of my favorite moments of the year. Eric has skied at least ten Birkies, and this is our seventh one together. There's a rumor that I may join in one of these years, but I don't know how that got started. Much of Eric's family is here this year, too (not staying with us), so it's a Very Vollen Birkie. I have a beer in hand already.
More as the situation develops.
2.17.2009
Correspondence, continued
A loyal reader writes,
Dear Fount of Wisdom,I have tried to arrange the books in my home by color, but thoughtfully, so that they are both useful and beautifully arranged. The resultant abject failure is more than I can bear. How can I be exactly like you?Sincerely,Ann[onymous]
How it both delights and pains me to read Ann[onymous]'s note. It is a particular joy to me that she would endeavor to perfect her already beautiful home. That she would attempt to incorporate my Unimpeachable Design Tenets is a testament to, well, me. Alas, Ann[onymous], like so many others, has stumbled, scraping her design knee. We are here to help, Ann (can I call you Ann?), and will see to it that you aren't, as the great Elizabeth Zimmerman would say, "forced to sup the porridge of regret with the spoon of sorrow."
Arranging one's books by color is a risky business. Some might scoff at it entirely, and I do not recommend the practice for all of one's tomes. But, as a design accent, or perhaps for a collection of romance novels, what's the hurt? I pulled all our red books to create a lovely finish to a bookcase that had a raw edge (it had once been a built in; see below, left). But note, Ann, the books are on their sides, and arranged by size within each invisible shelf. It's not just willy nilly. And I can't imagine trying it with more than one color (unless I had a LOT of books of a certain color). When it comes to the actual bookcase, the books are arranged sensibly (see detail below, center), as books should be. We arrange mostly by category, though I will admit the categories are sometimes known only to me. There's poetry, and travel, and books I should read but won't (Tess of the D'Urbervilles? Ain't gonna happen), or books I bought in hardback and never should have (Jane Smiley's Moo tops that list). Then there are earnest books about the gays, and Eric's special collection of how-to books (bindings intact; the titles all contain the word dummy or abs). You get the idea.
Our cookbooks, and there are too many of them, are in the kitchen, stacked on another invisible shelf that is starting to get on my nerves a bit. Most used are in the center, where they're easy to grab. Up top you'll find Juicing Turnips for Fun and Profit. Down at the bottom you'll find Famous Chefs Concoct Recipes You Can Neither Reproduce Nor Afford.
So you see Ann, many options exist for your own books. Knowing how well-read you are, I doubt you need my help categorizing (though I would be happy to make up categories for you). I don't think arranging cookbooks by color is going to help you much either. Rather, I suggest you find some more tangible, useful way to categorize such a special topic. For instance, you could read each cookbook, keeping track of the tablespoons of butter used in each, and arrange them in descending order of fat content. Just an idea. Alphabetically by vegetable works, too.
One more thing: it's possible that I paraphrased Ann's note just a bit. You can read her full text, if you must, in the comments section of A Weeknight Supper.
A weeknight supper
The Sous Blogger and Her Consort make a lovely, homey casserole they call Wild Rice Baron. It's full of rice and olives and ground beef and numminess. Sometimes they make it with shrimp and call it Wild Rice Neptune. Tonight I made a very healthy, quite delicious rice pilaf I'm going to call Wild Rice m'Lady.
Wild Rice m'Lady
2 cups water
1/2 cup wild rice
16 ounces sweet Italian sausage, casings removed
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 12-ounce fennel bulb, trimmed, diced
1 large red bell pepper, diced
2 large leeks (white and pale green parts only), chopped
3 large garlic cloves, minced
1 1/3 cups long-grain brown rice
1/2 cup white wine (I used a delicious Vouvray, which I'm drinking right now)
32 oz. free-range organic chicken broth
Simmer water and wild rice in small saucepan 20 minutes. Drain.
Heat heavy large saucepan over medium-high heat. Saute sausage until cooked through, breaking up sausage with fork, about 4 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer sausage to large bowl.
Add 2 tablespoons oil to same saucepan. Mix in fennel, bell pepper and fennel seeds and saute until tender, about 10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add to bowl with sausage. Heat remaining 1 tablespoon oil in same saucepan. Add leeks and garlic and sauté until tender and golden, about 8 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add brown rice and stir 1 minute. Add white wine, cooking for 30 seconds, scraping pan. Mix in broth and wild rice. Bring to boil. Reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer until rice is tender and liquid is absorbed, about 40 minutes. Add sausage mixture to hot rice and toss well. Serve hot.
Wild Rice m'Lady
2 cups water
1/2 cup wild rice
16 ounces sweet Italian sausage, casings removed
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 12-ounce fennel bulb, trimmed, diced
1 large red bell pepper, diced
2 large leeks (white and pale green parts only), chopped
3 large garlic cloves, minced
1 1/3 cups long-grain brown rice
1/2 cup white wine (I used a delicious Vouvray, which I'm drinking right now)
32 oz. free-range organic chicken broth
Simmer water and wild rice in small saucepan 20 minutes. Drain.
Heat heavy large saucepan over medium-high heat. Saute sausage until cooked through, breaking up sausage with fork, about 4 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer sausage to large bowl.
Add 2 tablespoons oil to same saucepan. Mix in fennel, bell pepper and fennel seeds and saute until tender, about 10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add to bowl with sausage. Heat remaining 1 tablespoon oil in same saucepan. Add leeks and garlic and sauté until tender and golden, about 8 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add brown rice and stir 1 minute. Add white wine, cooking for 30 seconds, scraping pan. Mix in broth and wild rice. Bring to boil. Reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer until rice is tender and liquid is absorbed, about 40 minutes. Add sausage mixture to hot rice and toss well. Serve hot.
Why am I posting a recipe on Going40? I have no idea.
Recipe adapted from Bon Appetit.
Catching up on correspondence
Dear MK,
If you've already exposed the young learners to moist and hegemony, you've done enough damage and deserve nothing else from the word list.
Sincerely,
Literature Is Corrupt and Kinky
Dear Elise,
I don't know, what IS brown and stinky?
Sincerely,
Parents Are Playful
Dear Josh,
You straight guys are all the same. Anyway, it's a Samsung 32", 1080, 60Hz. I'm sure it's not as big as yours. On the other hand, we have nothing for which to compensate.
Sincerely,
Televisions Engender Envy, Not Simple Yearning
If you've already exposed the young learners to moist and hegemony, you've done enough damage and deserve nothing else from the word list.
Sincerely,
Literature Is Corrupt and Kinky
Dear Elise,
I don't know, what IS brown and stinky?
Sincerely,
Parents Are Playful
Dear Josh,
You straight guys are all the same. Anyway, it's a Samsung 32", 1080, 60Hz. I'm sure it's not as big as yours. On the other hand, we have nothing for which to compensate.
Sincerely,
Televisions Engender Envy, Not Simple Yearning
2.16.2009
2.15.2009
2.14.2009
The Skier
Thanks to SkinnySki, we can already see pictures of Eric in action. He's number 40, and the photo of him at the start also shows his dad right behind him (34). Eric's had a great season; this is his fourth major race of the winter. The Birkie is next weekend, and his season will culminate a couple weeks after that with the Tour of Anchorage. You can check out eWAC for more details of these races. I don't want Going40 to veer to far from its self-centered mission.
Weepy
Okay, I don't know if it's Eric being gone for the weekend, or hormones, or a migraine today, or that I'm just a sap, but the following have ALL made me weep this weekend:
1. A story on NPR this morning about a harpist who sits and plays in an emergency room most days, calming not only the patients but the harried doctors and nurses.
2. An article in today's StarTrib about another batch of soldiers leaving northern Minnesota for Iraq.
3. The Valentine Eric left for me to find. Cover: For Valentine's Day this year, I'm re-gifting. Inside: Here's my heart—again.
4. The Colin Farrell movie A Home at the End of the World.
Enough with the waterworks. Think I'll go mix a Prozac nightcap.
1. A story on NPR this morning about a harpist who sits and plays in an emergency room most days, calming not only the patients but the harried doctors and nurses.
2. An article in today's StarTrib about another batch of soldiers leaving northern Minnesota for Iraq.
3. The Valentine Eric left for me to find. Cover: For Valentine's Day this year, I'm re-gifting. Inside: Here's my heart—again.
4. The Colin Farrell movie A Home at the End of the World.
Enough with the waterworks. Think I'll go mix a Prozac nightcap.
2.12.2009
An amazing day
Can you think of another day that has borne two such iconic figures? On February 12, 1809, Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin were born.
And this is what Abe Lincoln said. He said, "As I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master. This expresses my idea of democracy, and whatever differs from this to the extent of the difference there is no democracy." And then he gave us the Emancipation Proclamation.
Charles Darwin, wrote, "I think." And then he proceeded to draw the first diagram of an evolutionary family tree.
And this is what Abe Lincoln said. He said, "As I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master. This expresses my idea of democracy, and whatever differs from this to the extent of the difference there is no democracy." And then he gave us the Emancipation Proclamation.
2.10.2009
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Not about Paul Revere. Who cares. But about me! I am practically giddy today; I almost skipped through puddles in front of Old Main. Not really, but I could have; they were about three feet deep. Here's why: I feel so good. I think, perhaps that I felt like crap from the gallbladder for MONTHS, well before the crippling attack of late December. This must be how transplant recipients feel. Except they're still on ventilators worrying about organ rejection. We already rejected my gallbladder, so I'm way ahead of the game. Anyhoo.
Tuesday is my one long day on campus. I have the biodiversity lecture in the morning (I'm starting to figure out how this one turns out: biodiversity good, extinction bad). Then I run like the wind to my piano lesson (interesting tidbit: best lesson in one and a half years today; he said many interesting things, that actually made sense, that seemed to apply to me and not to some theoretical Russian prodigy circa 1958). After that, I stop by Prof K's office for a chat, but she almost always senses my impending arrival and manages to hide before I get there. Today I got close: the door was closed, but the lights were on. It's like she escaped with the tea kettle still on the burner. Then it's off to bio lab, in the same dreadful junior high lab classroom of last semester's fetal pig mutilation. Today it was all about counting hypothetical spiders in a hypothetical forest, then doing something in Excel—I'm not going to try to get too caught up in the particulars. I found another feisty young lass to be my lab partner, and succeeded in making her roll her eyes at my feigned naivete within about ten minutes. Really, the semester is off to quite a good start.
The best part of Valentine's Day, 2009
The Liberty Frozen Custard flavor of the day is Magic Cookie Bar. This more than makes up for the fact that Eric will be spending the weekend at yet another ski race.
2.09.2009
2.07.2009
Next, please
I know, you probably haven't finished the Bittman or the Pollan. But there is not one second to lose, people! The earth is dying, we are fat, we must fix everything, now! So read The World Without Us, by Alan Weisman. I can't put it down, which is unfortunate, since I have a ton of homework and editing to do.
Oh yeah, the semester began while I was recuperating. New awesome class: Biodiversity. Professor smart and fun and gets it. Topics interesting, relevant, and not cheesy.
And speaking of writing/editing: I have (had) a new client. I did a TON of work for new client in January. I invoiced client every week. Client agreed to all. Client very very happy with work. Client no pay. Client lie to me six different ways about paying/not paying/paying later/already paid. Client stiff me for for $2500. Client must die.
2.06.2009
A late remembrance
In the never-ending focus on me, I have neglected to note John Updike's passing. Rabbit, Run was a very influential book on me in junior high. Updike's writing hasn't always done it for me, but when you move from writer to icon I suppose that's to be expected. Anyway, a friend sent me this, and it seems an entirely appropriate remembrance, especially from my sabbatical from church work comes soon to a close.
There was a time when I wondered why more people did—John Updike, Pigeon Feathers and other stories
not go to church. Taken purely as a human recreation, what
could be more delightful, more unexpected than to enter a
venerable and lavishly scaled building kept warm and clean
for us one or two hours a week and to sit and stand in unison
and sing and recite creeds and petitions that are like paths
worn smooth in the raw terrain of our hearts? To listen, or not
listen, as a poorly paid but resplendently robed man strives to
console us with scraps of ancient epistles and halting accounts,
hopelessly compromised by words, of those intimations of
divine joy that are like pain in that, their instant gone, the
mind cannot remember or believe them; to witness the
windows donated by departed patrons and the altar flowers
arranged by withdrawn hands and the whole considered
spectacle lustrous beneath its patina of inheritance; to pay, for
all this, no more than we are moved to give—surely in all
democracy there is nothing like it. Indeed, it is the most
available democratic experience. We vote less than once a
year. Only in church and at the polls are we actually given our
supposed value, the soul-unit of one, with its noumenal
arithmetic of equality: one equals one equals one.
2.04.2009
Warm weather vacation
A couple years ago we were on a perfect vacation: sun, sand, surf, good friends, a glorious escape from winter in Costa Rica. And sure, that would be nice right about now, but thanks to my gallbladder, dear friends, and family, I have the next best thing: a home filled with orchids, tropical plants, and bonsai. Our house has become a conservatory. It's a sunny enough day; I'll just pretend it's eighty degrees outside. Maybe I'll make a Vicodin mojito.
The bible tells me so
Thanks, Phil. Sorry you had to rip up your childhood coloring book to get this posted.
2.03.2009
Great movies to watch on Vicodin
Broken Flowers (2005): Bill Murray, Frances Conroy, Jessica Lange, Tilda Swinton, Sharon Stone, Chloe Sevigny, Julie Delpy
Feel free to add recommendations, preferably those available on Hulu or Netflix instant download.
Discuss
Hamline's new logo. Their take on it: "Designed to support Hamline’s brand identity, the logo conveys a sense of energy and excitement and better communicates Hamline’s identity as innovative and distinctive. The new logo uses a combination of serif and sans serif fonts, suggesting both history and innovation. “Hamline” is emphasized, with “University” secondary. The shape was drawn out from the interlocking “HU”—it is the space in the middle of where the two letters intersect. A modern take on a traditional academic symbol, the logo gives a sense of strength, boldness, celebration, and permanency."As you know, I never have opinions or preferences. Your thoughts?
2.02.2009
Afterglow
Sous Blogger clearly abused her powers and privileges with that little photo post. And Eric, well, don't get me started. Photographing unconscious people seems somehow perverted, dontcha think?
It's 6pm, and I feel awake for about the first time since the surgery. Also in a Vicodin haze, which I will be staying in overnight, believeyoume. Everything went fine, aside for a little nausea and inability to stay upright when they first tried to get me to leave the recovery room. Um, hello, give a boy a chance to come out of the anesthesia before prepping the room for the next paying customer. So they give me some pills and had me stay another hour.
Eric, aside from his glee over taking embarrassing photos of me, has been most solicitous. Thanks everyone, for the good wishes.
It's 6pm, and I feel awake for about the first time since the surgery. Also in a Vicodin haze, which I will be staying in overnight, believeyoume. Everything went fine, aside for a little nausea and inability to stay upright when they first tried to get me to leave the recovery room. Um, hello, give a boy a chance to come out of the anesthesia before prepping the room for the next paying customer. So they give me some pills and had me stay another hour.
Eric, aside from his glee over taking embarrassing photos of me, has been most solicitous. Thanks everyone, for the good wishes.
Open Thread Monday
Waiting room thought: in the biopic, "Gone Too Soon: The Scott Andrew Rohr Story," who should play the lead role? Supporting cast? You?
PS: It's evidently freaks on parade day here at Abbott's Piper Surgery Center.
PS: It's evidently freaks on parade day here at Abbott's Piper Surgery Center.