Prangster in Chicago

R.I.P. My Sunglasses

Dear My Sunglasses,

Oh, what am I saying? You're no longer mine. I have no right to claim you as my own, even though we were as close as a face and a pair of sunglasses could be. It was us against the sun! Us against the annoying freckles that loiter around my eyes during summertime! Us against crows feet! Oh, those were the days...actually, it was only this past Saturday.

Sobs.

Some people have hinted that losing you was punishment for going to see Mamma Mia! with Jess on Friday night, but I won't believe it. You were never a movie snob. But still, I'm sorry all the same. I don't even want to imagine where you are right now. Maybe you're on somebody else's face. Maybe you're resting on their head, nestled in greasy hair...oh, disgusting.

Sobs.

So I have to tell you something. I bought a new pair of sunglasses yesterday. You know how the sun beats down on me these days. It's too bright. I can't take it. They look alright but they're nothing compared to you. Today was the first day I wore them out and it wasn't easy. I'm one of those people who forms unreasonable, obsessive attachments to things in my life...you know this about me.

Anyway, I better go. Who knows if this will ever reach you, but I had to try.

R.I.P. my sunglasses.

With love,
My Face

P.S. If it makes you feel any better, my coworker Hugh said you were the "sunglasses of my life" and that "rebound sunglasses are never permanent."


EDIT: Weird, I just got a spam comment on this post from a fraudster online sunglasses store. I deleted it, though. My dead sunglasses deserve better than that.

Why is college so expensive?

Today, the NYTimes says:

"Unlike most well-endowed colleges, Berea has no football team, coed dorms, hot tubs or climbing walls. Instead, it has a no-frills budget, with food from the college farm, handmade furniture from the college crafts workshops, and 10-hour-a-week campus jobs for every student."

"Berea’s approach provides an unusual perspective on the growing debate over whether the wealthiest universities are doing enough for the public good to warrant their tax exemption, or simply hoarding money to serve an elite few. As many elite universities scramble to recruit more low-income students, Berea’s no-tuition model has attracted increasing attention."

On a different note, I've realized that I need something in my sidebar that lets me list out articles and links. Like how Google Reader lets me "share" blog posts. Does this already exist or am I about to become a gazillionaire?

A poor post

Welcome. It's a great day to visit my blog because today I am complaining about things that are inconsequential and most likely unrelated to anything you'd be interested in.

Let's begin!

1. In the past four or five months, the cost of a load of laundry in my building has jumped from $2.50 to $3 to today's ridiculous price of $3.50. Sneaky, greedy jerks.

2. Look at the grammar on this t-shirt from the Gap. As a writer, I can't be seen wearing this t-shirt in public. It would be like seeing my dad walk in the rain. It's just not something that should be done. As Kathy Cheng, however, I can't resist buying something from the Gap every time I step inside. It was on sale and only $5.99, so I bought it for KB. If he doesn't wear it, I'll wear it to sleep.

3. This is a very Macbook-like keyboard design, don't you think? It's the Sony Vaio SR notebook series. An obvious rip-off, but I have to admit it looks nice. I'd use it.

4. I think my basil plant will be dead soon. Not because I'm eating it, but because it's refusing to bounce back. Stop being so weak, basil plant!

5. Typepad is very slow these days.

Dessert in macro setting

Hmm, I think maybe I'll buy a Cuisinart toaster oven. Eric Ripert, the three-star Michelin chef of New York restaurant, Le Bernadin, makes it looks soooo good on his video blog, Avec Eric. (It's got nothing to do with his French accent, I promise.)

EDIT: The Cuisinart toaster oven Eric Ripert uses retails for $500! It's on sale for $279 on Amazon right now, but still, holy shit! I guess toaster ovens are only for real rich people, not fake rich people like me.

How Monday made it up to me

I got the basil plant from Trader Joe's last night. It was $2.99 and smells so good.

Yes, Monday, I'm shaking my fist at you!

This morning on my way to work I lost a contact lens. I rubbed my eye and it came out. Plop. It's either dried and crackly on the street at the intersection of Roosevelt or State, or stuck to the tire of a car all dried and crackly.

I walked to the office with Elizabeth, and with my right eye closed, then Googled the nearest optometrist to get a sample lens. There was one right on Wabash, just two minutes walk from the office. Excellent. When I got there, the friendly lady optometrist said she'd be happy to give me a sample contact lens -- but not without a prescription. It's illegal for optometrists to give out contact lenses without a prescription, she informed me. Oh, sweet justice!

So I begged a little. How sad this must have looked with one eye closed. I offered to fax my prescription over as soon as I got back to the office, and wait until she received the prescription before putting the contact lens in. Just give it to me now, please! I imagined myself waiting by the fax machine with the contact lens poised on my fingertip and my right eye wide open, ready for insertion. However, she said no. She insisted on seeing the prescription first before handing over the contact lens. What a freaking professional. I frowned and said I'll be back. After all, I'm merely a guest in this country and I will obey any and all (well, most) laws because I would hate to be a case study for the National Geographic show called "Locked Up Abroad." You win, professional optometrist lady.

So I walked back to the office -- under the now sprinkling rain -- to pick up my prescription. I keep it in my office drawer for whatever reason. By the time I left the office again with my prescription it had started to rain so I took one of the less broken office umbrellas with me.

Then, Monday, you got crazy. Someone must have cut in front of you in line at Chipotle because you went totally ape-shit. About fifteen steps away from the door, it started pouring rain. Then one of the umbrella spokes snapped from the force of the wind. Then the umbrella inverted. And my jeans got entirely wet. Even my butt. Also I was wearing a white t-shirt. The rain wouldn't stop. It changed direction. Which made the umbrella invert again. I got to the optometrist and she gave me the freaking contact lens. I said thank you. Then walking back, my shoes kept slipping off. I was soaked. I was soggy. You get the picture. It was so freaking dumb, Monday, I can't even look at you.

Two hours later, after doing some work and sitting with my wet pants in a meeting, my boss told me to go home and change because he said it was weird to see my bare feet. So I went home and took a hot shower, then came back to work. Monday, if you ever pull this shit again, I'm going to freaking...

Go America

I just got back from watching the pre-4th of July fireworks downtown near Taste of Chicago, this huge food festival in the park by the lake. The streets were all closed off and there were people everywhere. It was completely insane. Probably hundreds of thousands of people, there were.

While we were walking around trying to find the most awesome spot to watch the fireworks, we passed by lots of possibly naughty groups of kids. I said to K, "I wonder if anyone has a gun." He went, "Oh, I bet a few people brought guns." I shuddered. Guns!

So we found a great spot on this bridge more towards the south end of the Taste of Chicago. There were lots of other people standing around too, all waiting for the fireworks. Right around 9:30pm, when they were scheduled to begin, around two or three dozen kids started screaming and darting across the bridge at full speed, running away from the crowds at the Taste. There were so many of them the bridge was trembling, which made me really nervous. People standing around were all confused as to what was happening and what the hell the kids were running from -- or to. K wondered if a fight had started and the police had broken it up. I wondered if the kids had a curfew and were running late...because I'm dumb.

We found out later there was a gunshot! A shot from a gun! I know, so scary! Then during the fireworks, a police paddy wagon beeped its way through the crowd on the bridge then later beeped its way out. Maybe with the gun person inside. I don't actually know because I was looking at the lovely and elegant fireworks. They were so good people started applauding and wolf-whistling at the end. I like it when that happens.

So tomorrow is Independence Day which means no work. I love you, America, even with all your scary, deathly guns.

You know, now that I have that gunshot and fireworks story under my belt, this year's 4th of July weekend is already a lot more eventful than last year's. All I did last year during the 4th was write about tamales and watch TV.

EDIT: Argh, I just read this: "Four people were shot, one fatally, in the Loop late Thursday as thousands of people streamed out of downtown after the city's Fourth of July fireworks display and the Taste of the Chicago" from this article in the Chicago Tribune. Shots! With guns!

The photo above shows crowds leaving downtown post-fireworks. As you can see, the station we were at (Library) and the line we got on (brown) wasn't too crowded, but I imagine the red line, which I take to work every day, would have been horrific.