Monthly Archives: March 2005

I really do want to blog about my weekend. It was extraordinary. It’s just that it’s Tuesday now, and I’ve already processed most of what the weekend held. Then again, my weekend extended an extra day, as I decided to drive down to Chicago last night. Jason spent yesterday cleaning his apartment, and that was a good enough reason to haul ass down 94 after dark on a Monday. Indeed, the place is much cleaner – both in the messy way and the dirty way. Jake, Jason, and I watched Barfly (if you didn’t know – it’s pronounced “BARF-lee”). We decided that we ought to drink while watching, so we cracked open what we had laying around – a bottle of champagne.

Back to the weekend. Yes. Saturday night I had made plans to go dancing with my friend Abbie. Back when we both lived in Rogers Park, we’d go to Big Chicks and dance the night away, drinking the free shots they give out at midnight, and not have to worry about being oogled or manhandled. (There was one time where I was accosted by an attractive but agressive woman, but that’s a rarity.)

I purchased a bottle of Smirnoff Cape Codder ($6 at the sto’ – it must be discontinued) and brought it along to have with dinner.

As I took off my coat, Abbie congradulated me on wearing black. She had Metromixed the closest clubs, and learned that there was a goth club, known for it’s cheap drinks, three blocks away. What’s better than dancing at a gay bar? Dancing at a goth bar called Neo.

As it turns out, a 750 mL bottle of the stuff will put two Irish Catholically educated women into a state that is west of Tipsy. (That’s a $3 drunk, if you weren’t paying attention.) We also drank port, which I found too sweet and good.

We put on too much makeup, and headed out. I wasn’t sure if my cute little brown peacoat was going to be a visual shibboleth, but there was a coat check. The drinks were not as inexpensive as Metromix had quoted, but it was still a great place to sit down (in a dark corner, naturally) and peoplewatch sulk.

There were six people on the dance floor, and it was obvious that their reason for dancing superceded the cultural more they were breaking. The majority of people were standing or sitting along the perimeter of the dance floor. Despite the lack of dancefloor excitement, there was plenty of fog machine action which continued into the night.

True to form, the dance floor filled up directly after midnight. Having pumped more cocktails into our systems, we were ready to dance as well. I’d like to consider myself a good dancer, if not an exuberant one, and I wasn’t sure how to dance appropriately. There seemed to be two styles: women in too-short skirts and heels dancing sexy, yet morosely; and guys dancing kind of house, but angrier. I chose the angry athletic style, and proceeded to shake my ass and show them what I was working with for about two hours.

It’s Tuesday, and I’m still sore.

That was the action, but the best part were the observations. This place seems to be a catch-all for outdated modes of style. I saw some Flock of Seagulls, I saw some ravers, I saw some City of Lost Chidren, and of course the high-end Hot Topic freaksluts.

Anyway, it was both a sociological zoo visit and a party night all rolled into one. The fact that it’s so close to Abbie’s means I’m putting on my Lydia outfit, getting predrunk, and going there again this summer.

Tada! With only a little help (I took a nap and now this works) I now have a superblog where I can post pictures and mashups of songs that are really just 5 songs playing at the same time. The rest of the site, as indicated by the topside bar, is on its way. I just need a few more nights of sitting in front of the TV watching old 6′ Under.

I have actual work to do today, so I’ll post later this afternoon about my Saturday night goth club adventure and shocking discovery that two of my friends are engaged – via a screengrab.

Oh, I need to figure out how to make the fun sidebar stuff live at the top of the page – until then, go take a peek all the way down at the bottom of the page. If you’re bloggy and I didn’t add you – let me know. I’ll throw you on.

I’m looking forward to my weekend. I wasn’t last night, but after one of those phone conversations that in itelf is kind of gut wrenching but then provides a soporific and detoxifying effect I realized that this is going to be a great weekend.

The part that most concerns this here blog is that I’m planning on launching outsidecat.com, complete with blogness. That means no more livejournal. I’ll have photoability, and uh, a bunch of other neat stuff. Yeah, a Bedazzler. Two of them.

I’m also going bowling at an alley in Chicago that has four lanes. There are human pinsetters, and you tip them by rolling a couple bucks and shoving it into one of the holes of your ball. I simply cannot wait. What will I wear?

I’m also going to have brunch with Anthony and Kristin, and listen to some Sunday afternoon jazz at the Green Mill.

Perhaps Saturday night, pre bowling, I’ll have a launch party for outsidecat. Hmm. I wonder who would be around last minute, and I wonder if it will actually get done.

Last night I put together a sitemap image that I’m pretty happy with, and it really ties the site together. Literally and aesthetically. Now all I need are some model release forms back from some of my friends. Then I’ll be set, like Erector.

I was listening to NPR (last Sunday?), and heard part of a piece about group – or a person – or somebody in some county in some state (are you with me?) who decided that

Geez. I’ve confused myself even. Let me start over.

There have always been problems with the foster care system. Children are in foster care in hopes of placing them back with their parents, instead of being adopted and staying with one family forever. Unfortunately, there are folks who host foster kids for the subsidy.

Placing kids with good families is a problem. Someone (and I don’t know who because I can’t freaking find the story) decided that part of the problem is the presentation of information about the children. The files with each kids history and whatnot comes with a passport style photograph.

This impersonal and mugshot-looking picture would never capture the true essence of a child.

Photographers volunteered to photograph the children, I believe in a gym on a Saturday, using their own backgrounds and lighting and whatnot. The county was able to sign release forms, since the children were under its legal care.

Warm, funny, heartfelt photographs of children really acting like themselves were taken. The children had all sorts of attention paid to them. One girl said that she felt like a movie star.

I don’t remember the numbers, so I’ll make them up. Something like 17 of the 44 children photographed were almost immediately placed with families.

The state of New Jersey has decided to do the same thing – photographing all of the children in its system.

Doesn’t that sound amazing? Can you imagine the difference a sweet personality-capturing photograph would make on people who aren’t sure if they want to be foster parents?

So here’s the deal. This NPR story has captured my imagination. What are the downsides? There isn’t the pain-in-the-ass consent form issue, because the state would provide that. A couple of photographers, a couple rolls of film, and you’d have images of children that would make you want to adopt them, not discard them.

The foster care system seems to affect the lives of children in a very negative way. Any child spared of this experience would be one more person less likely to be unhappy, unsuccessful, or even criminal.

It seems like a really simple solution to a problem that affects people for the rest of their life. Has anybody else listened to the story? I can’t seem to find it anywhere, and I’d like to listen to the whole thing, to find out if this is a nonprofit organization, or if this is a state-by-state effort. I’m down.

This makes my heart sing with joy. This is exactly the right combination of random acts of kindness (the pre-emtive kind) and ANARCHY! AHHHH! BLahrghrahr!

(Taken from the Daily Kos)
Slacktivist has a suggestion for fighting back:

By my junior year of college I’d had enough of the credit card advertisements.
They were on every bulletin board on campus. They were on the boards in the mailroom, in the dorms, even on the boards of the various academic departments […]

I didn’t like the way those ads were luring so many of my friends and classmates into perpetual debt. And I didn’t like the way all this increasing debt was changing the nature of higher education into a kind of glorified vo-tech system that was meant to do little more than enhance your future earning potential.

So like I said, I’d had enough.

I took down the ads. Every last one of them. I recycled all the posters, the fliers, the business reply envelopes.

They replaced them, of course, but I got rid of all of those as well. It became a weekly ritual. I’d take the rounds regularly. I carried a staple remover wherever I went.

So the point here is, if you’re a college student, or a college professor, or even if you’re the parent of a college student: Get yourself a staple remover.

It’s a small gesture, but effective activism can be built out of thousands of tiny acts.

See, I have this $300 voucher through Continental that’s burning a hole in my pocket.

There’s also the Coachella festival next month, and I could fly there free (using my voucher). Then it would merely be the cost of the festival tickets ($150), on-site camping ($40), and food for the weekend. That’s still over $200.

I promised myself that the trip to Ireland was a deal because we were staying with friends and therefore was cheaper than going to Ireland and having to hostel/hotel/motel/Holidae Inn it. I told myself that after that, I would save like a Ctrl+S. This plan, this idea of spending two glorious days in the hot sun listening to music and possibly even maybe hanging out with Sheive really sounds like it’s worth at LEAST $200. If you add up the cost of seeing music, plus the cost of finding a climate that is warm, that adds up to $200 already. (For me – I’m full of cabin fever.)

I’m torn.

I’m also supposed to be going on a sweet week-long roadtrip in July, which would involve a flight out to NYC, then a flight home from Austin. The voucher really could come in handy for that too.

What does a girl do? I’m planning on, as my library mentor said, “eek out a small living” with my graduate assistantship (which I technically don’t have, and just assume I will have). Saving money now, even $200, might serve me well when I really really want to do more than eat, sleep, poo, and study.