Sparky's Adventures

Up and coming

2011-12-30T15:52:00.001-05:00

New Year's resolutions are dumb. We never stick to them, and since time technically doesn't even move linearly, they're pointless anyway because there's not really going to be a new year but rather our silly marking of time in lives. How's that for fatalism? Regardless, here are my resolutions:

1. Learn the Periodic Table. I don't know why, exactly, but I think it's important to know some things. To have them in your back pocket should you be in a MacGyver episode where you need to read what's on the toothpaste tube and then make a puppy out of it so you can escape with your puppy. At any rate, I'm trying to learn what this stuff is that makes up our galaxy and all the crap in it.

2. Learn the Countries of the World (and their capitals). Same here. I used to know this stuff, but then I forgot it. While I could probably name most of the world's countries, I most definitely could NOT name their capitals. Once again, I think it's important to know this stuff.

3. Practice Yoga or Pilates at Home (at least twice a week). I have found that yoga makes me a better runner and pilates makes me stronger in general. Why wouldn't I do this? Mostly to watch another episode of Community or to read the New Yorker, which are both important pursuits, but they can happen not during the hour or so that I should be strengthening and lengthening.

4. Earn Good Credit. This is a trickier one, and it's one that's not so much a resolution as much as a MUST GET THIS DONE kind of urgent matter. This involves getting my finances in order, establishing a no-nonsense budget and really working toward becoming a grown-up.

5. Draw More. I used to draw all the time. I couldn't hold a pen in my hand without intricate doodles taking over every notebook and post-it. Then grad school came along and sucked my creativity and will right down a sticky pipe that leads to nowhere good. It's time to get my art life in order.

6. Get Rid of Stuff. This has been an ongoing process, but it's really time to let go. I don't know what holding on to every card I have ever received does for me, but I think it's time to move on from trinkets and heart erasers from the fifth grade. I just get so sentimental with every little thing when truthfully, it's my friendships and family that are far more important. If my house were to burn down, it shouldn't matter because I have friends (and renter's insurance).

And because we as humans not only organize time linearly but we also are superstitious, I can't end with just 6 resolutions:

7. Get Organized. This one kind of relates to #4 and #6, but seriously, folks, it's time to keep a planner for real. None of this panic and anxiety because I didn't have my schedule straight. It's time, once again, to at least pretend I'm an adult.

Happy (productive and exciting) New Year!

Id & ego

2011-12-21T17:31:00.003-05:00

Apparently people are quitting Facebook in droves. But people are joining ole FB in droves, too. It's just that the quitters live in the US and the newbies live in developing nations, especially in South America. (And I guess this isn't that new, as the NYTimes attests.) One of the anecdotes that the first article offers is about a young man who was in an elevator with a woman who he had never personally met, but about whom he knew much: where she was from, whose sister she was, and where she had last vacationed. Another story told of a woman who felt like she was in touch with everyone even though she had been communicating solely via social media. Both left the site for good. So all this got me thinking (in the spirit of Ms. Carrie Bradshaw as she sat down at her ancient Mac): why don't I quit Facebook?

Before I tackle the why quit question, I think I should start with why I like it. It is great to keep in touch with those friends that I don't get to see often, especially the ones in far flung countries like Spain and Peru. It's great to see pictures of my friends' kids, whose childhoods I'll likely miss. It's fascinating to see what So-and-so from 1991 is doing today, and what music she listens to. It's great to keep abreast of my friends' interests and blogs and music and thoughts and ideas.

But there's another reason that I like Facebook. (This is where I get a little bit uncomfortable because it's kind of like looking in a dark, demented mirror.) Truth be told, I like the validation: that people agree with my politics, my humor, my activities, my music. Do I have something witty to say about Rick Perry? Did I unearth that weird YouTube gem? Am I attuned to current events? Is that music video really as good as I thought it was? When I thought about removing my profile, I immediately thought about getting zero likes. What would my life be like without that constant validation? Well, for one thing, it would likely make me appreciate real live validations much more (that whole face to face communication thing). It also made me think of the ways that children seem to be coddled as of late - they're never wrong, they never fail, they can't ever fall. And I think that part of that stems from the constant hypes that they receive: you are smart, you are pretty, I like your Facebook post about your cat puking this morning. And then I thought: life is hard. Sometimes people don't like you or don't like what you have to say, and that's OK as long as that distaste is expressed respectfully (no punching, please). Isn't it good for us to experience that? The constant mediation of daily activities and deep-seated politics and values removes a sense of reality and a sense of place: who is my audience? Why do I filter? Why do I care?

This long look into the dark mirror is embarrassing and telling and I'm not sure what I'm going to do about it. According to AA, awareness is half the battle (or at least a really fundamental step); is that good enough? And yet I feel like I'm copping out, abusing my new-found awareness retreating into denial. But isn't that what the internet is all about? Instant information and ME ME ME ME ME? I have a blog for crying out loud. It was originally intended to inform friends and family about goings on in Peru but it has evolved (devolved?) into a Kathryn-shaped something.

33 (and not quite 1/3rd)

2011-11-29T17:06:00.001-05:00

So I recently celebrated my 33rd birthday. And I love it! Mostly because I love cake and celebrations and having my friends nearby. But also because I am healthy and employed and happy and have all my teeth. It's funny because here, in our age-obsessed, wannabewrinkle-free society, we complain about getting older when in fact, we are fortunate to be alive and in pretty good shape. In Peru, birthdays are a big deal, and everyone gets a party and a dinner and cake and the whole nine yards. They joke about women turning 15 and men turning 18 over and over and over again, and when I share about how Americans fear age, my Peruvian friends sharply retort, "aren't they glad they're alive?" In a country with a much shorter life expectancy, it's no wonder that Peruvians would treasure life. Grey hairs? Bring 'em on. Slowly, anyway.

Here I am celebrating my 28th birthday in Iquitos, Peru in 2006.

Time change

2011-11-09T18:29:00.001-05:00

So if you really did discover a time portal to 35 billion years ago, wouldn't that screw up the parallel time of the future? Like, wouldn't dinosaurs get used to humans, humans to dinosaurs and then humans and cro magnons would have a war of their own? An unmatched war, of course. And then what if humans and cro mags mated? Would the future alter as the past was? Or would there just be a parallel future? Or would past and future blend later or before?

Time is tricky territory and truthfully, I don't entirely understand it. According to Einstein (or better yet, according to my limited understanding of Einstein's theories), we can never travel backward in time but only forward. And in the novel, Einstein's Dreams, we are given thirty different vignettes of how time could change subtly and not so subtly.

All of this crosses my mind while watching the (relatively problematic, colonialist, racist and also ridiculously over budgeted) tv series, Terra Nova, which depicts the first possibility described above (humans from 2149 who leave their desperate, filthy world for earth some 85 billion years beforehand). There are as many problems with the show as there are dinosaurs in it (thanks, Stevie!), but it does raise the interesting question of time travel and of course, it pits the nerdy (though buff) scientist realm against the cro magnon (pun intended) militaristic realm in hopes of offering hope/escapism in an era of environmental and political crisis and exploring the time-honored (once again, pun intended) tradition of time travel and its possibilities. I'm not sure why I watch it other than for the purposes of procrastination (and to see how well I can identify dinosaurs, which fascinated me as a child; my favorite was the ankylosaurus because he could really knock out an opponent with that tail club), but it does occasionally lead me to ponder some questions out of the norm of my everyday life. Sigh.

Sporty

2011-11-01T17:44:00.001-04:00

CLE Fun Fact: Cleveland had the first traffic light in the United States back on August 5, 1914 at E. 104th and Euclid.

Organized sports have never thrilled me. I was raised by a devout Buckeye fan (class of 1967, I think) and have spent much of my life attending Ohio State football and basketball games, not to mention major (Oakland As) and minor league baseball games (Pawtucket Red Sox, anyone?), hockey games, professional basketball games, and the occasional soccer game (World Cup 1994, Chicago). We went to a fair number of Ohio State swim meets, but that doesn't really count as organized sports. I don't usually understand the rules to sporting games, and I'm generally bored. I got a little bit more interested in soccer after living in Spain and Peru and I like a soccer game here and there. I do love to watch World Cup but I think it's more about seeing the fans strut their stuff, which I find absolutely fascinating. Then there's the Ohio State Marching Band, which I have loved since youth. They are so tight and well organized and so very classic: they make me want to shout OH - IO despite my lack of allegiance to the Buckeyes as a football team.

But that's the thing that's really electrifying about sports. They unite (some would say blindly, but still) people across diverse backgrounds and cultures in a solidarity rarely found elsewhere. It's hard to put a jock and a geek and a princess and a nerd in the same place and have them get along, finding common ground but at a game, they're best friends. Fans also believe in their power as fans of X sport: "if I'm not there, they might lose!" or, "they have to win, I wore my lucky cap!" That kind of superstition is part of our culture, kind of like knocking on wood. Even though it's not really my thing, and I prefer more solitary sports (running, swimming, cycling), I do have an appreciation (to an extent) of that jocky, weird culture, even if I don't have an interest or investment in it.

Single Sex

2011-11-01T17:40:00.000-04:00

I have long been a proponent of single-sex education. I attended an all-girls school for 9th and 10th grade and while no high school experience is without its traumas, I wouldn't take that time back for all the tea in china. (Or for a lot of money since who really needs that much tea.)

Recent studies allegedly disprove the theories that single-sex education is beneficial to students for learning and social development. While I understand part of their viewpoints, I bring to the table a high school experience evenly divided between single-sex and coed institutions. I found that in my first school, Woodlands Academy of the Sacred Heart in Lake Forest, IL, I was challenged far more in an academic sense, and I also felt extremely confident in asking questions, answering questions, and participating in debate and conversation. I was also less concerned about my general outward appearance and found competition at the school measured and healthy. Recently, Woodlands added a multi-million dollar science learning center, continuing to advocate for women's participation in STEM (science, technology, engineering and mathematics). While it's a small school, its theater and music programs are strong and heartily supported.

I spent my last two years at Westerville South High School in Westerville, OH, which was a dramatically different school. With a coed population of nearly 2,000 students, it was ten times larger than Woodlands. While I rarely met an academic challenge at WSHS, I participated in a world-class marching band and theater program. As the new kid with mad music skills (at the time) who came from a big city and was already in the National Honor Society (an honor that WSHS students didn't receive until their senior years), I was often given a certain amount of deference. Had I been there since the beginning of my high school career, I doubt I would have received the same reaction. My difference helped me navigate a huge school with a distinct bullying problem where many of the boys were actually practically grown men, and the divide between the sexes (and between straight and gay students) was palpable. There were expectations that women excel in certain arenas (foreign language) and not in others (statistics).

Today's high school student isn't nearly as fortunate as I was. The opportunities to marginalize, stigmatize, hate and bully students are everywhere; one no longer has to corner someone in the bathroom or in the hallway. One click of a cell phone button sends gossip swirling, ruining a young person's social life. I don't know if this would be better in a single sex school, but I do know that I generally felt more comfortable around female peers than around male AND female peers. I felt that I knew what to expect, and that I could defend myself to someone who is very much like me. Teenage girls are volatile, strange creatures (as are teenage boys) but it takes one to know one. Things might be different today, but I was pretty convinced by the single sex education option. Food for thought.

Books

2011-10-14T16:34:00.003-04:00

I worked at a record store in undergrad (Finder's Records for you BGSU alums) and I had several regular customers. One of them was an English professor (whose name I don't remember at ALL) who was relatively snobby about her music tastes. Shortly before I was to leave to study abroad in Spain, she came in and asked me about my upcoming trip. I told her that I was excited but I was looking for some good books for the plane ride. She looked at me doubtfully and asked if I even knew what good books were. I listed some of my recent favorites (including Kingsolver, Smiley, Friedan, Sachs, Ozeki, etc.) and she looked surprised, like how could I - record store employee - know anything about literature? She wished me luck and left the store. The next day I came into work and my boss said that there was a package that had been delivered that morning; it was a bag of books with a note that explained that these were some of her current favorites, including A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley. I sent her a thank you immediately and also sent her some postcards from Spain, but I never heard back. Kindness of strangers....

And may I recommend an addictive website for those book lovers out there.

Start slow and taper

2011-10-06T13:33:00.002-04:00

I do love running. It wasn't always that way; in fact, I used to hate it. My mom was a marathoner and she made my brother and me run when we were kids and we were loathe to do it, choosing instead to hide by the docks and eat dry Ramen noodles.

In October of 2003, I started running because I was in a bad mood. Angry at my ex-boyfriend, I decided to blow off some steam and nearly passed out after less than a mile. I went straight home and signed up for a half marathon. The next day, when I realized what I had done, I called my best friend Michael who I remembered had mentioned running before. He enthusiastically signed up for the half as well, and thus, a runner (and her brave friend-turned-coach) was born. I didn't like running for a long time, although for some reason (likely how much I loved the trail where I trained in Austin), I kept up with it. I finished the half (February 2004) in 2 hours and 45 minutes. I decided to sign up for a full. I finished that the following year in 4 hours and 52 minutes. As soon as I crossed that finish line in February, 2005, I couldn't wait to train for the next one. And then I discovered that I actually loved running. And I challenged some other friends to join me for another race in October of 2005. Five of us ran. I finished in 4 hours, 25 minutes.

I'm still going. This Sunday I will run my sixth marathon with my dear friend April (who braved less than optimal conditions with me at the Tulsa Marathon last year), and I am so excited. I've infected new friends with the running bug and reinvigorated those who haven't run in a long time. I strike up conversations with strangers and I could talk about it for hours. I am eternally devoted to my running club and I've not found the peace and comfort that I get running on the Town Lake Trail in Austin. More important than running marathons is just running, pure and simple. Sometimes I do it to blow off steam, sometimes I do it to get invigorated, sometimes to think and sometimes to turn my mind off altogether. Sometimes it's to catch up with old and new friends. Sometimes it's because I feel weary and out of shape. Mostly, it's because it is remarkably freeing and validating because I can do it. And I hope that I can do it until I die. Maybe I won't always be able to complete the 26.2 milers, but getting in that run, even if it's just a 3 miler, is vital to my health and sanity.

Do you want to run? Give it a whirl. You can find a training guide right for you right over here. I encourage you to try it out for more than a few times; as I mentioned, for some people it takes a while to get into it, but I find it's the cheapest therapy available.

"It's a treat, being a long-distance runner, out in the world by yourself with not a soul to make you bad-tempered or to tell you what to do."

-Alan Sillitoe

Painful inspiration

2011-10-03T12:24:00.001-04:00

My dear friend Becky and I went to a print fair far, far away on the other side of Cleveland in a mildly depressing office park with a smattering of industrial businesses and empty fields. Despite the strange trek through typical Americana (strip malls and Wendy's), the destination was absolutely worth it. There were prints of all kinds (woodblocks, lithographs, etchings, lino cuts, screenprints) from around the world made within the last hundred years or so, and they were awe-inspiring. Design, color, technique, theme: I kept gasping for air at the same time that I wanted to rush home to draw and create. Most of the prints we saw (that ranged in price from $125 to $5,000, all far beyond my budget) were what I call "hurt-me" pictures: art so beautiful that it gives your stomach that knotted, nostalgic feeling difficult to explain and difficult to contain. Kind of like what you feel on a crisp fall day with winter imminent but the breathtaking colors of the leaves just getting you right there. Becky and I oohed and aahed, making desperate plans to begin our adventures with the linoleum blocks that we bought last winter; we wanted to start making art right then and there.

This was one of the prints that was etched (pun totally intended) in my mind. It's by Helen Hyde and was made in 1912. It's called Mt. Orizaba. Sigh. Let's go make art!

Vitamin D

2011-09-30T13:57:00.004-04:00

I had no idea how much I depend on Vitamin D for my happiness. This recent NY Times article stated that you only need about 15 minutes a day on your arms and legs from spring through fall to get your fair share to sustain you, but what happens in the winter? Or in cloudy cities like Cleveland where there is plenty of sun in the summer but on average fewer than 15 sunny days during the winter? Some suggest supplements, which is all fine and good but I never remember to take them. Others say move south (not an option right now). Still others suggest a sun lamp. It's not even October yet, but I suspect that I will be investing in a sun lamp soon. I hate to complain (besides about politics), but MAN ALIVE I MISS THE SUN (and it's only been gone a couple of days). I absolutely POSITIVELY WILL SURVIVE gosh darnit!

Galieleo, Brecht, and Perry

2011-09-28T11:05:00.001-04:00

Last night I went to see Galileo by Bertolt Brecht at the Cleveland Playhouse, the longest running regional theater in the country (96 years!). It was beautifully executed (with the exception of an awkward moment filled with rapping angels and gold lamé shorts) and starred the amazing British actor Paul Whitworth. The lighting was stunning; I couldn't believe how much it added to an already lovely work. Perhaps most importantly, however, was the resounding message still remarkably relevant 70 years after the 1943 premier.

Galileo Galilei, as we laypeople understand him, was an astronomer, physicist and mathematician who propelled forward the Scientific Revolution. With his findings that the earth is not, in fact, the center of the universe (proven via recent invention the telescope), the Catholic Church found Galilei heretical and in violation of church doctrine. In fact, in October of 1992 (350+ years later), Pope John Paul II expressed regret with the way that the situation with Galilei was handled. And thus did NOT end the murky divide between the Church and Science. Brecht initially wrote the play as a sort of allegory of Naziism, but it can easily be translated to new times and centuries. His balance between the Church and Science is lovely, with doubters and believers in both camps as the Western world changed drastically toward scientific pursuits.

So, does anybody see a parallel between Rick Perry (and other GOP fundamentalists) and the scientific community today? Anyone? How is it that after years, centuries, even, of research and investigation (using the bright minds and capabilities that the Good Lord above has gifted us), the church still questions rather basic science that has significant evidence in its court? I am a theist, unlike many of my science-minded (and even ethnomusicologically-minded) friends, and I have faith in a Higher Power, but I do not at all conceive of how my faith and (I believe God's gift of) science are incompatible. Placing artifacts historically and chronologically (including Bibles and fossils) should inform us that we can take nothing literally but must conduct further research (thank you, Lord, for free will and thinking minds). The Bible makes no mention of cars or computers (or the internet at all) and yet we use them. We don't know where God stands on these SCIENTIFIC inventions. According to the Hebrew Scriptures, we can't even wear wool and linen at the same time. (Who knows how polyester fits in to the picture.) So should we abandon the theory of evolution simply because we can't seem to move beyond allegories and fables mainly employed to educate the (largely) illiterate population of 2,000 years ago? Doubt it, but who knows? Perry and others are either really stupid (possible) or looking to control large segments of today's population with both ignorance and fear. Climate change? Nah. Doesn't exist. How on earth could humans have botched things up so long if the earth is really millions and billions of years old? Mostly because we're inventive little turds and some of our science has turned against us during our pursuit of excessive profit (e.g. big agriculture that yields more corn, more corn-fed cows then pumped with anti-biotics and presto-change-o: E-coli!).

Now that I have established myself as a ranting loon, I would like to recommend that you watch Galileo at the Cleveland Playhouse if you're able. Good show, dear chaps, good show.

Who wants to teach, guv?

2011-09-27T16:05:00.000-04:00

I understand that I may quite possibly be beating a dead horse, but here goes with the horse violence: teachers are underpaid. (That calls for a "duh.") Despite the fact that education was one of the first areas to get slashed in most states to attempt to deal with their horrendous deficits, and that states (and the federal government) were irresponsible with their budgets in the first place (if my Mom were in charge, everyone would be on the frugal budget and only allowed to buy one pair of shoes a year. Yes, I'm talking to myself and my bad shoe-buying habit.), there still may be a chance to save our kids but leave it to people like Kasich and others who don't value educators' skills. I invite you, Governor Kasich, to teach for a week and see what is involved in being in the classroom. I also invite you, sir, to take home what a teacher makes in a week. Then take another 10% of your income away to pay for health care and yet still pay higher co-pays and then spend your hard-earned cash on school supplies for your classroom (because your classroom budget is about $150/year). Whatcha got left? And who was going to take care of your kids and your partner? Oh, and I'm sorry, did you think you got to "relax" during the summer? Yeah, try working a part-time job, preparing lessons to meet the ridiculous academic content standards arbitrarily determined by administrators and also taking care of your family full-time. Got it?

I'm not saying that unions are perfect; they're not. And I'm not saying that all teachers are the best either. But I am saying that the middle class (to which many teachers belong) can't afford all this mumbo jumbo. We need pensions (I won't even embarrass the state of Ohio by announcing the pittance that my mother made after teaching for 30+ years) in order to pay for that assisted living that medicare won't cover after a certain period of time. We need to take care of our children and our grandchildren. And by the way, we (the middle class) didn't piddle away millions and billions on bail outs and mortgage crises. Most of us were just working. Hard. And now my friends and colleagues are being rewarded with unemployment, lowered salaries, and barely-there pension possibilities.

Seriously, guv, walk a week in any of my friends' shoes and see what it's like. And then try paying a teacher what you pay your plumber and we'll talk.

And the nominees are...

2011-09-27T10:04:00.001-04:00

Well, for those of you who are all caught up, I now work at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. Please note that this is a different (although related) entity from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. We are a non-profit, they are a for-profit and we would not exist without them, although it is (mostly) they who make decisions about nominating candidates for induction.

In the meantime, my position is that I love rock and roll. I love soul, funk, punk, rock, indie, pop...the whole nine yards. But for whatever reason, I'm not particularly invested in who gets inducted. I don't have those allegiances that Kiss or Rush fans have, and the bands that I would induct (the Smiths, the Pixies, Sonic Youth, Afrika Bambaataa, Bjork) are a long way from getting inducted (politically, I believe), and that's ok by me. I still love their music, and their induction will not validate nor undermine that love.

But really, why do people get so invested? (And I'm glad that they do - it makes great fodder for discussion and it certainly demonstrates the power of popular culture. Yeah, take that, Adorno!) As my boss often notes, it's all about expertise: our adoration of a particular music, style or artist is deeply rooted in our knowledge about that music, style or artist. We know, we love, we devote our money and ears to that thing. And we are intimately acquainted (e.g. my fidelity to Guided by Voices' Under the Bushes, Under the Stars). So having an internationally recognized institution validate our expertise and devotion means a lot to a lot of people. But why the animosity when Neil Diamond gets inducted or when the Beastie Boys get nominated? Ultimately, rock and roll and all its roots and branches are deeply personal and reflect the diversity of the United States. This stuff is made of so much other stuff, and this institution is called the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame likely because it's less catchy to call it the Rock, Popular, Semi-Popular, Underground and Acoustic and Electric Roots and Who Knows What Branches Hall of Fame. Why is hip-hop part of rock and roll? Because it wouldn't have happened without rock and roll, without those LPs that were recorded in the late 1960s and early 1970s (Spinners, Chic, the JBs) and those artists that recorded those LPs wouldn't have happened without the Jackie Wilsons and Aretha Franklins and James Browns of the world who wouldn't have happened without the Mahalia Jacksons, Sister Rosetta Tharpes and Soul Stirrers who wouldn't have happened without the...you get my gist. While the melting pot metaphor has long since been abandoned, especially considering the palpable segregation that still exists here, it's apt when discussing popular music and how it happened: everyone influences everyone else and while power differentials obviously exist (and arguably we live within a post-colonial framework), it's all mashed up together.

SO...be nice and respect others' tastes. And maybe even take a listen to that Rush or Beastie Boys record. You might learn something you don't know and frankly, isn't that what life is all about?

Nevermind

2011-09-26T14:34:00.001-04:00

Well, despite my serious nerddom, I have somehow published about the band that I was never cool enough to write about. Regardless, read all about my impressions of the 20 year anniversary of Nirvana's Nevermind over here.

Hop to it, risk-taker

2011-09-22T22:57:00.002-04:00

Has it really been more than an entire year sans adventures of Sparky? Am I lazy or what? Too much Hulu-watching and bike-riding, I suppose, but this is ridiculous. In an era of chronicling one's every breath, it's rather silly that I don't maintain a blog, a log, a chronicle of what's going on so that my future progenitors may read their mother's thoughts on some microchip installed in their frontal lobe.

So today, children (well, me, really, because who the hell else reads this thing? So I guess I could have written "chronicling one's every fart" instead), we shall learn about TAKING RISKS and how I used to be much better at that but I now suck at it. My bravery is unending when it comes to traveling solita around the world and trying new foods, but I can't seem to engage with the more banal stuff of talking to a cute man or hunting for prospective futures. Those futures, though, are what gets me. They could be anything - living in Japan, fishing, or working at the WHO in Uganda. I guess those particular examples are a bit far-fetched but the point is, I'm only 32 (for another few months), I'm finished with graduate school, I am healthy and curious and I don't have a mortgage or children. Doesn't this mean that I am free to shape my future, try new things, do whatever? And yet I feel nailed to the floor, comfortable and even complacent in the decadent apartment that I don't own, the job that I enjoy (despite being woefully underpaid) and the friends that are wonderful company. So why bother lifting a finger to do anything other than craft night or blogging? I think because it's expected of me - I should, I can, therefore I...won't? Don't wanna? Am afraid / anxious / nervous / bored? I like routine. I like spontaneity, too, but only to an extent. So the point of this post is...oh yes, to chronicle. Hopefully one day I'll look back to this and think, "what a dimwit." Or maybe, "how so very human of her, that old self of mine."

Mexico City

2009-11-30T20:28:00.003-05:00

Seriously, Mexico City is AMAZING. It's along the lines of NYC, glittering and sparkling and trendy and sprawling and dense and smoggy and sunny and incredible. All at the same time. I loved it. I would love to go back. I would not, however, like to live there. No. Way WAY too many people, although I do appreciate the diversity of style: punks and old ladies and preps and rich people and poor people and rockers and rejects and Mayans and everyone. Just...thrilling. But I am tired and should be dissertating so my brief foray into (re)blogging is short and sweet and to be expounded upon later.

Os Mutantes

2009-10-01T13:20:00.002-04:00

Yup, I saw the legends. Or at least a new version of them. Os Mutantes is a psychedelic Brazilian band from the late 1960s who teamed up with Caetano Veloso, Vinicius de Moraes, Gilberto Gil, Gal Costa and Tom Ze to form the Tropicalia movement that countered Brazilian pop music and an oppressive dictatorship. Sounds complicated, but it mostly produced clever, catchy songs with lots of word play and fabulous musical texture. They played last night at the Beachland Ballroom, and while the sound was crap, the show was great fun. It made me miss Dr. Behague and all his little quirks and his nutty lectures about Brazilian music that were neither here nor there and yet I learned. A lot, actually, and as a result I could sing along to several songs.

Frog Earrings

2009-09-15T10:11:00.002-04:00

Today I am wearing green copper frog earrings. They are about 1.5 inches long, and they're very detailed. When I was in the fifth through 7th grades, we lived in Rhode Island, which is where my mom is from. We would regularly go for hikes in the Norman Bird Sanctuary in Middletown, not too far from the beach where my mom grew up. The bird sanctuary would have a fall festival with arts and crafts and pumpkin carving contests and the whole nine yards. It was always so much fun. One year, just Mom and I went and we had a blast, walking around the grounds, looking at different rescue birds and hiking up to the peak. We shopped at the art festival, and my mom saw these copper earrings and bought them for me in an instant. I rarely wear them anymore, not because frog earrings aren't cool, but because these silly earrings make me think of my mom all day long, and I can practically taste the hot apple cider that they sold at the sanctuary.

5x800

2009-09-03T13:10:00.002-04:00

When I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to compete in the Olympics as a swimmer. To this day, every Olympic swimming or running match I watch makes me cry big giant crocodile tears. For some reason the sheer glory of such accomplishment moves me to a weird nostalgic place.

I ran with Gilbert's Gazelle's this morning. Gilbert is an Olympic athlete who trains anyone and everyone to meet their full potential for a marathon. He is a genocide survivor, a Tutsi originally from Burundi where 250 of his high school classmates were burned alive by Hutus. He escaped, literally on fire, and somehow survived and managed to move to the US and become a NCAA champion. Running today, in the pitch black, oppressive 90 degree heat of the 5:45 morning, I felt invincible. I was in the slowest group, I nearly passed out, and yet I was exhilarated. I felt like an Olympic athlete and it was thrilling. For three minutes and thirty seconds.

I want to be in Austin.

ATX

2009-09-02T13:42:00.001-04:00

I'm just comfortable in Austin. It's not that Cleveland sucks; it doesn't. But I can't seem to get comfortable there. Austin is like an old easy chair, all worn in and comfy and complete with throw pillows and an afghan. Cleveland is like a stiff-backed chair that is the wrong height for the table. It serves its purpose, but you can't really nestle in. Or at least I can't seem to. If I could just do the job I'm doing in Austin, all would be well. How about if the Rock Hall opens an annex in Texas? That would be perfect.

Stupid Nostalgia

2009-08-31T14:51:00.002-04:00

So I just got back from a lovely weekend in Nazareth, PA where my dear friend Sonia had her American wedding. She married a wonderful Indian gentleman named Nikhil and they first married in India in December (hence the double celebration). (She's half Indian / half Scottish for what it's worth.) The wedding took place on a beautiful property that belongs to her family friends, and they have a garden so huge that it's basically a farm. They live almost solely from their garden and they also stock their local food kitchen to boot. It was just breathtaking. Reuniting with old friends and making new ones was the theme of the weekend, and I have not danced that much in ages.

The drive back was tough because I was tired and I got lost in East Cleveland. Don't ever get lost in East Cleveland unless you're feeling like being severely threatened by big men with guns. It's so SO not fun.

The title of this post is "Stupid Nostalgia" and that is because it is 60 degrees and cool outside; it feels like fall. Now, I like fall. I think it is a beautiful season full of hot apple cider and comfortable running. But I don't like it to pop up in August and I always hate the beginning of it because it makes me feel nostalgic. And horridly depressed. And I feel like I'm on the verge of tears. I miss my mom and I miss my childhood and I want to be somewhere else but I can't think of where. It sucks and it's painful and I have never been so excited to be in 100 degree weather. ATX, here I come.

A billion years

2009-05-17T19:50:00.002-04:00

So it's been a while since my last post, and for that I am regretful, although I was kind of in the dumps for a bit there (oh ye dissertation of great pain and agony!), so it's probably better that I didn't share. In the meantime, a few tidbits, here and there, of the past few months.

1. I am currently in the Lakewood Public Library, an independent library about 15 blocks from my house. It was recently renovated, and it is absolutely gorgeous. I'm here because my trusty Dell, which was never really that trusty, has failed once again, and is currently in the Dell hospital, hopefully being shocked into remission. Uniquely, its absence has made me far more productive on several realms. No longer faced with facebook and hulu in the evenings, I come to the library to dissertate and then annotate at home on a typewriter. Yes, I am stuck in the 19th century, but sometimes, when the thought or inspiration or motivation hits, take advantage! Progress is being made, and I hope to defend on October 3. That's the new plan anyway.

2. New York! I went to NYC to visit Sonia Plant a week after inductions. It was magical and lovely and magical and lovely, with just enough lovely weather, snarky hipsters, flower stands, delicious food, Sonia, and other old friends to make it still ring clear in my mind as a magical time and place. Just lovely. Visiting Elise, Sonia, et. al. also inspired me to pair down a bit - they live with so little because they just don't have the space (because it is SO expensive), that I decided that my crammed-full 1200 square feet must be cleaned out. I am making progress and it is good.

3. Inductions were great. I met lovely people (above all Daryl McDaniels of Run-DMC and Elizabeth Kucinich of Dennis Kucinich fame) and worked my ass off. The show was great, the after party great, and the after-after party...I'm too old for this! Regardless, I am looking forward to November's American Music Master's, which is a huge program that my department is in charge of, where I met Les Paul and Lenny Kaye last year. Woo!

4. Spring has sprung and it is just beautiful! I still miss the heat heat HEAT of Austin, but seeing the neon green of trees and flowers and plants just burst on the scene in full force is pretty damn cool. I run the Madison Marathon next week and couldn't be more excited to see Michael and Julia and Mary. Hooray!

5. Did I mention that I want to defend in October? That means getting it done by August, working on the draft, and turning it in by September. Whoa. We'll see if it can be done. ;)

6. I head to San Diego in two weeks for the IASPM conference, then to Mexico City in November for my birthday and the SEM conference and Thanksgiving and then to Spain for Christmas. Hooray!

And so, a billion years later, she writes a slightly more interesting blog.

Must write.

2009-03-02T19:56:00.000-05:00

I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now. I must write right now.

Retro.

2009-02-26T09:30:00.000-05:00

Disneyland, California ca. 1985.

Laughter!

2009-02-22T14:50:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I had to work, teaching four hundred Girl Scouts. It was fun but tiring. The great part was that afterward, old college friends (Arlie, Peter, Jeremy H., Emily Anderson, & Jeremy Johnston) came to the Rock Hall and bopped around. Actually, that was more like the good part. Johnston was up from Cinci (haven't seen him since 2005) and Emily up from Columbus. The great part was the evening of beer and cookies that we spent at Arlie & Peter's that was complete with more laughter than I have experienced in YEARS. I laughed so hard that my cheeks hurt, my eyes burned with tears, and my tummy got cramps. We played a ridiculous game (the adjective game) and just laughed for hours. I woke up and my cheeks were sore this morning. It was just wonderful. Great to catch up with old friends, as always, but wonderful to just laugh, uninhibited, out loud, snorting, chortling, bubbling laughter! It really is some pretty great medicine.

Sicky poo.

2009-02-20T21:50:00.000-05:00

I don't make a good sick person. Well, no one does, really, but I get especially grumpy and short-wired when sick. I'm not even drop-down drag out SICK but there's some gunk somewhere that is trying to come out and it hurts my throat and my eyes. And it doesn't help that I've been putting in killer hours at work. And I have to work tomorrow. The Girl Scouts are coming to the Rock Hall and we have to teach four classes back to back. I had been looking forward to it but between being burned out from Iowa and being sick, I just don't feel like it at all. Plus I was supposed to run 12 miles tomorrow morning. No can do. Boo hoo.

Well, enough bitching already. Let's talk about Octo-mommy. Psycho! Ok, I won't even bother going there. The irresponsible, selfish, nutcase of a crazy lady. 14 kids, no job. Sounds genius to me!

Privilege

2009-02-12T14:51:00.000-05:00

Privilege is a funny thing. I have been very privileged growing up. My parents were careful to scout out the good schools before we moved anywhere, and I often had the choice among schools. I've done 50/50 public/private schools, bouncing all across the US. No matter what, I received excellent education. I was a good student (albeit a slightly hyper one) and I loved learning. I still do, although I'm not as good at it as I used to be. Today I taught to four different school groups. One was a suburban school, although it was pretty diverse, but the kids were super nerdy, smart kids with great vocabulary and social skills, excellent analytical skills, and a ready-to-learn attitude. They were 4th graders. My second group had kids from three different Cleveland schools, and they were in the 7th grade. Their reading comprehension was far lower than the first group, and although they were fantastic kids and great listeners, they didn't quite make the connections that the first group of kids did. They also come from one of the worst school districts in the nation with record school closings, teacher firings, and some of the lowest paid teachers around. And my gut reaction was that if I ever have a kid (who knows if that'll happen), I want my kid to be smart, curious, and creative. I don't want my kid to fall asleep because he or she hasn't gotten good sleep, or because he or she is bored. I want my kid to be engaged and into it, and it all really boils down to privilege. It saddens me that the gap between my first group of students today and the second group is only widening. And what can we do about it? Clearly No Child Left Behind has only screwed kids, teachers, and parents alike, and undoing that mess will take a long time. But even if we can undo it, there is no guarantee, especially considering that this country has been facing the same battle for decades. How do we give our kids a fair shot at education? How do we distribute those benefits across the board, for rich and poor, abused and un-abused, rural and urban? How do we give kids a fair shake, so that they can get the attention that they need and deserve? What exactly does it take? Cinderella stories are nice, but they just aren't realistic, and it seems silly that just because a kid comes from a single-parent welfare home that that child should suffer in the classroom and be neglected. What is it that we need to do? I believe that increasing arts programs in the schools is a good step, because it gives students a window into other learning opportunities. It gives them a different kind of filter or lens through which they can see their world. I led a professional development workshop last night where a photography teacher here in Cleveland is giving inner city kids a fair shake at trying creativity instead of violence. She has saved kids from the street by giving them rules, guidelines, and a camera. It's amazing what these kids can do, and what they could have done long ago if given the options. But with 45 kids per classroom in the Cleveland Metropolitan School District, it's no wonder that these kids barely stand a chance to graduate, let alone be able to read at their grade level. Anyway, the disparity between the two groups this morning, between one school vs. three others really had me questioning privilege and what I would do with my own, non-existant, unnamed child.

Job? Who, me?

2009-02-06T16:28:00.000-05:00

Me and Tim Rice

Back from an exhausting week in Iowa. It was the best of times, it was the coldest of times, it was the craziest of times. It also made me realize (or come closer to the realization) that I am, in fact, an adult. I had responsibilities that weren't just behind the scenes. Instead, about two thousand people saw my work up close and in person. This alone is terrifying enough, and being recognized as some kind of authority, representing my place of employment, just adds to the fire. I have a job. I am a professional. WTF, mate? I'm no longer a grad student. Well, I am, but not in the same way that I was before. I'm learning about a different kind of politics, a different kind of hierarchy, professionalism, and responsibility. It certainly is new and interesting. Furthermore, I am learning new skill sets including production, wrangling, transportation, and interviewing (not just in the ethnographic way that I'm used to). It was one of the longest weeks that I've had in a long time, but I did enjoy the challenge, even though it kicked my butt from here to Timbuktu. I barely survived a family meltdown, teaching Iowa's children, iceburg lettuce, Buddy Holly fans (that's for another day, another blog), mullets, photography faux pas, and sub-zero temps, among other adventures. I did, however, meet some incredible people. Among my favorite was lyricist Sir Tim Rice, a delightful, goofy, and brilliant man. Then there was Graham Nash, who is every bit the peace-loving ex-hippie you would expect him to be.

Me and Gordon Waller from Peter and Gordon

And Geezer Butler, bassist for Black Sabbath whose Birmingham accent and phrases were often beyond comprehension but who is the nicest heavy metal vegan I have had the chance to meet. And then just cool people at the Surf Ballroom, some great media guys from random TV, newspaper, and radio companies around the country, and a neat production team. It was, I repeat, utterly exhausting, but good. Whew.

Will and Graham Nash

Surfin' in Iowa

2009-01-28T19:29:00.000-05:00

I am in Clear Lake, Iowa where the temps are hovering around zero, but the sun is shining on the glittering snow. Sounds romantic, right? Well, nothing romantic about the Mason City Holiday Inn, but everything romantic about the Surf Ballroom. The Surf is the last place where Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper performed before they died in a plane crash. Not only that, but the Surf is a tremendous venue all around and has recently become a non-profit entity. Why am I here? It's the fiftieth anniversary of the day "the music died," and the Rock Hall is co-hosting a series of events, from classes to symposiums to concerts, honoring those legends and their legacies. It's a tremendous program, and exhuasting, but it's truly amazing. This is such a landmark in American cultural history, and I am so fortunate to be part of it. I have met and spent time with Bobby Vee, the Fireballs, Maria Elena Holly (Buddy's widow), Ritchie's family, and others. Graham Nash, Sir Timothy Rice, Bob Hale, Jimmy Clanton, Wanda Jackson, Los Lobos, and others are trickling in, and are participating in concerts and panels. It's surprisingly magical, and extremely emotional. These are some of the legends who shaped the history of rock and roll, and I am excited to meet them.

Hope!

2009-01-20T22:27:00.000-05:00

For once, I am really and truly proud to be an American. Or better yet, a United Statesian (estadounidense). I am proud of our country, our decisions, and our new leader. I am filled with hope. Bring it, Barack.

Nicknames

2009-01-19T18:13:00.001-05:00

Growing up, my family called me Ka. They still do. Other than that, it wasn't until college when people started to give me nicknames. People in my dorm started calling me Kat because there were so many Kathryns, Katies, and Kathys on my floor. Then I went to Spain where Kathryn isn't exactly an easy one to spell or pronounce, so I became Kati. I've always been sensitive to the spelling of my name, and it drives me nuts when it's spelled wrong. But for some reason, I never really solidified the way Kati was spelled. So my friends in Spain and Peru spell it every which way; the only common demoninator is that it begins with a K, which I was quick to enforce. My friend Esther spells it Katty, Irene spells it Katy, others spell it Kati, and still others Katti. I guess because it's only my name in parallel worlds that it doesn't bother me not having a codified spelling of this random nickname that I never imagined I would have. I lived in Spain in 1999-2000 and am still close with the whole gang, and they all spell my name differently. And it doesn't bother me in the least. Random interesting fun fact of the day!

Up and Down

2009-01-16T20:51:00.000-05:00

Work has been CRAZY. In one day I taught 200 inner city kids, designed a brochure, led a professional development program and called Sir Timothy Rice (of Andrew Lloyd Weber fame) to ask for a photograph for a program for an upcoming event. WTF? Crazy but distracting. In a good way. It's hard to focus. Especially when it's -9 out. Luckily tomorrow I am going to buy a mag trainer to hook my bike up to so I can exercise indoors. I draw the line at 0. Anything below zero is unfit to run in. There have been ups and downs, but thank God for my friends. They are my lifelines.

I straightened my hair for kicks today. Never again. What a pain in the ass.

I am trying...

2009-01-05T21:02:00.001-05:00

...not to hate on Cleveland. I think the deal is that I feel trapped. I'm living paycheck to paycheck and I've made about zero progress on the diss. I hate that I can't just up and go to Peru. I hate that I have to work in the summer. I hate that I can't just do what I want to do. I love the gig, but I miss the freedom. I know I can leave at any time, except that I can't. It's pricey and just not feasible. Aaaarrrggghhhh.

Welcome to the Beginning of the Rest of Your Life

2009-01-01T14:02:00.000-05:00

Ok, so that title is a bit dramatic, but I feel like a different person at 30. And I'm 30, baby! So entering a new decade is a big deal, dammit, and I'm excited about what's to come.

I never make New Year's Resolutions. I never really have, probably mostly because of their notoriety for breaking easily. It's like they're fine china. Regardless, I think I might give it a shot this year. And I'm not going to call them NYRs. Instead, I'm going to call them NYBEs, or New Year's Best Efforts. I think I'd be disappointed if I resolved to change something or approach something differently and I didn't do it. But I can certainly make my best effort to do or become XYZ. Catch my drift?

NYBEs for the next twelve months or so (in no particular order):
1. Run two marathons.
I'm running Madison in May. But what about Chicago or Columbus in October? I need running goals because without them, I don't run as often . I kind of need something to keep me focused, and having an end goal is that. I don't know if two marathons that close together is a bit ambitious (a few of us ran two marathons in 2005, but one was in February and one was in October), but we'll see. If it doesn't happen, oh well.

2. Do a tri
There's a great triathalon sprint (.5 miles swimming, 15 miles biking, 10k running) in Cleveland in June. My running partner loaned me a fancy road bike, and I think I'm going to do it. I've been threatening to do a tri for a while now, and I think this is the year.

3. Curb my swearing
I swear too much. And the funny thing is that I never swore before grad school. I think living with Sam and Miranda opened the door to the possibility of the f*bomb, but I'm taking it to a new level. I work with little kids and teachers all day. It's time to not worry if that is going to pop out at any given time.

4. Organize?
I have a lot of stuff. I have a hard time organizing all of it. I'd like to start pitching it, realizing the waste that is sucking out my life. We'll see how it goes, but I don't like being a slave to things.

5. Graduate with my Ph.D.
This is the most difficult NYBE. I don't really want to talk about it (or write about it here) because of the level of anxiety it induces. Here's hoping I can OWN that anxiety and use it for good. Please note that I am blogging right now instead of writing. Ha!

6. Budget the books
I don't manage my money. It flies out the window, and I don't even go out here in Cleveland. I'm 30. It's time to learn to live like a grown-up.

Are these NYBEs possible? I hope so. I'll give it a whirl! The only one that will kill me if it doesn't happen is the graduation. That'll be REALLY disappointing.

On another note, how about a cheer for some good albums that came out this year? I don't really buy that many new albums, but there were a few that caught my ear that I really dug.

TV on the Radio, Dear Science
This band is so extraordinary. They are phenomenal musicians and songwriters, but it's the production value that sets them apart from the rest. This album is catchy and interesting, and you hear new layers of stuff all the time.

Kanye West, 808s & Heartbreak
Ok, so Kanye is always pretty good, but what's really interesting about this album is how much it's not a hiphop album. It's a thoughtful, digital pop collection of great, albeit heartbreaking, tunes. Dig it.

Wynton Marsalis and Willie Nelson, Two Men Playing the Blues
This is a live recording from January of 07, but it is just great. It's warm and fuzzy and catchy and just plain feelgood. I love it!

Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend.
I hate loving it. But I do! It's so good! Melodic, Afro-pop yumminess with just enough hipster to get your inner skinny-pant wearing rocker totally dancing.

Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago
Ok, so you might want to slit your wrists listening to these sad, sad, lo-fi songs, but they're beautiful. What Bon Iver does with just his voice and a guitar on a multi-track recorder in the middle of BFE Minnesota is pretty stunning and elegant. Perhaps only for the nostalgic or faint of heart.

Mika, Live Parc Des Princes Paris
Guilty pleasure Euro-pop trashy (although creative) dance music. So much FUN!

Anyway, bring it on, 09!

Ouch.

2008-12-31T07:59:00.000-05:00

It effin' HOITS.

Poetry

2008-12-28T19:25:00.000-05:00

I'm not necessarily a big poetry fan. There are some poems and some poets I like, and then there are the rest that I feel relatively ambivalent about. I used to be a big poetry freak - Anne Sexton, Adrienne Rich, Marianne Moore. For whatever reason, I've been thinking about poetry lately, and I found this old one by Marianne Moore. Moore could get kinda romantic but she could also just say it like it is. There's a poem she wrote called "Poetry." It starts off like this:

I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond
    all this fiddle.
 Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one
    discovers in
 it after all, a place for the genuine.

See what I'm saying? I like her a lot. But I actually wanted to post this one, called "What Are Years?"

What is our innocence,
what is our guilt? All are
naked, none is safe. And whence
is courage: the unanswered question,
the resolute doubt, -
dumbly calling, deafly listening-that
in misfortune, even death,
encourage others
and in it's defeat, stirs

the soul to be strong? He
sees deep and is glad, who
accededs to mortality
and in his imprisonment rises
upon himself as
the sea in a chasm, struggling to be
free and unable to be,
in its surrendering
finds its continuing.

So he who strongly feels,
behaves. The very bird,
grown taller as he sings, steels
his form straight up. Though he is captive,
his mighty singing
says, satisfaction is a lowly
thing, how pure a thing is joy.
This is mortality,
this is eternity.

Kechup.

2008-12-22T15:25:00.000-05:00

Since last I blogged:

1. Turkey Day in Austin
Although it was a whirlwind, I got to spend lots of time with my Dad, Tim, Nik, Genevieve, and Karla. There was a brief reunion with Elise and Mary, and of course it was wonderful to catch up with Colin and Mehdi and Erika and Andrew and Meera and everyone else. It's always too short and too hard to do everything in one trip. Sad.

2. Visit from Ryan
Not only did Mr. Kangas come to visit, he actually saved my ass when I was teaching and was basically slave labor for the Rock Hall. Plus there was a lovely dinner with Reena and Cory and a date to the Art Museum and crepes at the West Side Market (my favorite place in Cleveland so far). Poor guy practically lost a limb in the cold, but it was super fun. And Patrick comes in January to sing! I win left and right.

3. Chapter.
I actually turned in a chapter. Ragged and incomplete as it may be, it gave me hope that I will not be ABD forever, that I might actually get out of here at one point. Who knows when, but it'll happen.

4. Review
I had my first year end review at work. I felt a little bad because I figured if I didn't do well at the review that I could just go back to Austin. I was almost secretly hoping that they would send me packing but alas, it was not to be. The review went really well and my over-achieving, perfectionist ways have thwarted me: I'm good at my job. *sigh*

5. Cold Running
I run with the Cleveland West Road Runners every Saturday down at the Rocky River Reservation, about 3.5 miles from my house. I take the bus down at around 7am and get there right on time to start at 7:30am. Two weekends ago was my first "cold" run. It was 16 degrees out. I was underdressed. I learned my lesson and did not (thankfully) get frostbite or hypothermic, and I will never make the same mistake. This past Saturday was a little better, and although there was the ice to contend with, at least I was appropriately bundled. They run year round, so I guess I'll have buddies to bitch with as the weather gets worse. Sad.

The good news is that Michael O'Brien spearheaded a running club, albeit long distance, with all the old peeps and a few new ones as we begin to prepare for different races. Elise & Rachel are training for Boston, Karla is training for the Austin Half, and Michael, Colin, and I are going to start training for the Madison Marathon, while Mary will train for the Madison Half. It's nice to know other people are going through the same training as you are. I'm excited. Half of my running group is training for Boston (fast bastards), but there are a few who are going to do Cleveland, which is the week before Madison, so I'll have other people nearby to do those 20 milers.

6. Holidays
I have been out of the country for the past three winter holidays. 2005 I was in Spain, 2006 and 2007 I was in Peru and now, 2008, I am in Cleveland. I did that for a couple of reasons. First of all, I don't have too much money to gallavant to other countries and I also don't have vacation days (blast that 9 to 5 crap!). Plus my dad and brother wanted to spend the holidays with me, so I figured I'd slow down and just do it here in the US of A. The trouble is that I hate doing Christmas without my mom. Since she died, I've only been in the country for two holidays. I just avoid it. Spain or Peru, Spain or Peru. That's usually my escape hatch. Sadly, not only do I get to confront this crap head on, I get to do it in my be-hated (as opposed to beloved) Ohio. And I think the reason I hate the state so much is that my mom's not in it. Physically, anyway. Sounds silly, but I bear a grudge. Stupid state. In the meantime, it's probably good to learn how to deal. I doubt I'll have the flexibility or the means to travel abroad every Christmas, so I should learn to deal now. And here we go!

Thrilling Thirties

2008-11-24T14:20:00.000-05:00

Yup! I'm thirty. 30. Tengo treinta añitos. I'm now in the decade of grown-ups, but still young grown-ups, where I'm old enough but not yet old. Clearly I'm actually 12. Or 14. Alas. Regardless, my twenties were tumultuous, to say the least. I turned 21 while living in Spain, lost my mom at 22, went to Bali at 22, went to Ghana at 23, started grad school in Texas at 23, started going to Peru at 24, got my heart broken (really broken) at 24, got my master's at 25, took doctoral comps at 27, lived in Peru from 27 to 28, celebrated 29 in Austin, got a new boyfriend at 29, went to India at 29, and moved to Cleveland to start a new job at 29. There have been some serious ups and some serious downs in that decade, as with any decade, and I'm assuming that my 30s will bring more of the same. The difference is that I know myself a lot better now than I did then. I'm much more comfortable with me, myself, and I. I have grown and changed tremendously in these past few years, and I don't expect the growing or changing or learning to stop, I just expect it to come with bigger grains of salt and maybe some warm weather, if Cleveland would please oblige.

So I'm calling this decade The Thrilling Thirties. I will be graduating with my Ph.D. in this decade. Aside from that, who knows what this decade will bring? Hopefully another stint in Spain or maybe in India. Hopefully warmer weather. Maybe less anxiety about my professional future. Maybe a little dent in school loans, or even a car. I guess we'll see...

In the meantime, I had a wonderful birthday week complete with a visit from Nik, a lovely party with Cory, and snow. The snow was less welcome than the other two things, but it added a bit of adventure regardless.

And of course I still am ga-ga over Lenny Kaye. That may fade. It may not, but who cares? It's rock n roll, right?

Lenny & Les

2008-11-16T17:40:00.001-05:00

Yup. After several 15+ hour days, we finally pulled it off. The 13th annual American Music Masters has come to a close. Lotta work? Yes. Exhausted? Yes. Hungover? A little. Starry-eyed? Just over Lenny Kaye. For those of you who don't know the punk pioneer Patti Smith, you should go buy her album "Horses" right now. She is known as the punk poet - bringing elegant lyrics to the aggressive style of punk tinted with gorgeous guitar solos by Lenny Kaye, her now ex-husband and still friend and collaborator. I have loved Patti Smith and Her Band since about the 8th grade when I was doing research on female punk musicians. (I had also discovered Siouxie, X, the Slits, and others, but Patti - perhaps because she was the most melodic and artsy - was my fave. And who doesn't love Lenny's fantastic solos that were just on the brink of being Something Else Other Than Punk? He is just too talented to play just I-IV-V chords.) Anyway, Lenny Kaye is on my list of people that I Go GaGa For Because They're Great. The list includes Prince, David Bowie, and Patti Smith. And of course, by extension, Wendy & Lisa (Prince's songwriting twin guitarists) and Lenny Kaye. And he totally lived up to my insanely high expectations. He is sweet, kind, funny, intelligent, and attentive. He thinks it's hilarious that I go so GaGa and he agreed with my list: he said he nearly fell over when he first met Prince. We hung out, we danced, he sang me happy birthday. And he said if ever Patti and I are in NYC at the same time, he'll have us both over for dinner. He loved the tecno-cumbia I played him AND my Halloween costume I showed him. He fully expects a draft of my latest chapter. And he was serious. I'm still reeling.

Although I am not a guitarist, I recognize good guitar playing. We had Slash, Richie Sambora, Dennis Coffey, Skunk Baxter, James Burton, Duane Eddy, Steve Lukather, the Ventures, and others at this show. They're great. But Les Paul? He's 93 and STILL playing like a maniac. He is hilarious and entertaining and sweet and a hell of a player. And I listened to Les Paul and Mary Ford growing up because my mom and nana liked them really well. And then all of the sudden I'm sitting next to him keeping him company while he waits to go on stage? How did I get this gig? Seriously. It doesn't seem real. It was hard, hard work. But it was exciting, and I learned a LOT.

And then Les kissed me on the cheek. Wow.

61 years young...

2008-11-12T09:14:00.000-05:00

Today would have been my mom's 61st birthday. She would have griped about getting old and then she would have asked for me to take her to a dessert buffet somewhere where she could load up on chocolate and cream puffs and tapioca and ice cream. She had quite the sweet tooth. She also would have found it highly entertaining that I work at the Rock Hall. She would have asked to take a look at my drafts of chapters (even if they blow) and she would have edited the hell out of them. And even though I'm a good 6 inches taller, she would have pulled me into her lap and said, "Ka-honey, tell me about your day."

I wish I had a better picture of her, but she died before digital cameras got popular, and I haven't scanned anything lately. So this is my mom in about 1975, three years before I was born.

Love you, Mom.

sigh

2008-11-09T20:21:00.000-05:00

I miss Austin and all the people in it.

Catch-up

2008-11-08T18:05:00.000-05:00

It's been nutty lately. But quick catch-up:
Halloween was great. I went as
a) Zombie Pippi Longstocking
b) Andy Warhol / The Velvet Underground album cover
c) Sporty Spice
d) Chucky

Cory (my roommate) is such a zombie fan that she convinced me to really do it up. It was fun to be something gross and scary, although fake blood, liquid latex, and zombie rot get annoying after being on your face for hours on end. We (Cory, Reena from work, and I) went to a party on Thursday night and then there was the costume contest at work (for my part as one of the Spice Girls that was complete with choreography, we won "most creative" category.), and then there was a show somewhere in the flats (I can't navigate through Cleveland to save my life) and then there was a house party here in Lakewood. It was no Genevieve party, but it was good fun.

Fall was beautiful. It's kind of fading, it's getting cooler out, and generally crummy, but it was beautiful while it lasted.

This coming week I will be meeting Les Paul, Ace Frehley (Kiss), Billy Gibbons (ZZ Top), Lenny Kaye (Patti Smith Group), the Ventures, Slash, Richie Sambora, Steve Lukather, and others during our American Music Masters series. Les Paul is the focus this year and yes, he's still alive (he's 93) and yes, he will be playing. It's going to be a nutty week full of 12 hour days but it should be fun. I don't know that I've ever "wrangled" rockstars before, but I'm sure I'll learn. And for the pop music scholars among you, Steve Waksman will be here too. :)

After that, it's my birthday! And my boyfriend will be coming all the way up to frigid Cleveland to celebrate it with me. I'm throwing a cocktail party at my house on the 22nd and kind of half throwing it with Cory, whose birthday is the 24th. Fun fun fun!!!!

I ran 8 miles today and it was perfect running weather: 45 and sunny. While normally I balk at anything under 60, it was good for the run. I still can't remember or picture what real cold is like, but I'm sure it will be upon me soon enough.

And of course, the obvious: President Barack Obama. It just sounds good.

Proud proud proud proud PROUD!

2008-11-05T22:04:00.000-05:00

The fourth of July has always been my favorite holiday, mostly because red is my favorite color, I love LOVE fireworks, and I like to eat summery foods. Rarely did my love of the holiday have anything to do with the actual holiday, our independence day. Perhaps because my Dad always brought people from around the world to our house (Sri Lankans, Kuwaitis, Japanese, Greeks, Egyptians, Indians, Spaniards, Thais) and I learned quickly about other countries perceptions of the US. (My Dad was the XO of many a Navy base, and ironically, I was always hesitant to be patriotic.) Then I lived abroad (1999-2000) when the Bush campaign was underway and it was nerve-wracking to watch another Bush come in and we had no idea the kind of havoc he would wreak. I continued to travel elsewhere, and lied about my nationality. (I'm Canadian, I'm Spanish, I'm Blah Blahian.) As many of you know, being American has its curses abroad - you are clearly loaded, snobby, love war, easy, back-stabbing, etc. As one of the least whorish, wealthy, snobby Americans out there, it was (is) sometimes awkward to confront those stereotypes. And then there's Bush, making it harder by the day to even want to live within the confines of this country. And along comes Barack Obama, who I must admit I did not take seriously at first. He was too young, too idealistic, too inexperienced, too intellectual. I doubted him for the first few weeks. I assumed that Hillary, a known-entity, would be able to handle it. The more I listened, however, and the more I researched, the more I learned. And the more I began to believe in Obama as a person, as a man, as a leader. He may not be able to change the world much in these coming years, and who knows how he's going to be able to keep his wits about him with the deficit, war(s), failing educational system, hatred, intolerance, and crap economy sneering in his face. But his pragmatisim, his sincerity, his normalcy give me great hope and excitement: maybe things can change. Maybe our government can serve our needs. Maybe our kids can have good teachers in good schools, maybe we can have health care, all these things that seem so basic and yet our literacy rates slide monthly and children die of the flu while their hard-working parents go bankrupt for the medical bills. I DO believe in OUR power to CHANGE.

And thusly, today, I am proud to be an American. Michael Moore, for all his silly antics, summed it up quite nicely here. And the world (India, Pakistan, France, Japan, etc.), documented here, celebrated the end of a bitter regime. Italy notes the change here. My friends from Spain emailed me congratulations and my friend Ivan even called me (I was in Spain during the Christmas holidays immediately following both the 2000 and the 2004 elections and the afermath wrath in Europe was palpable) to congratulate me and my fellow Americans on "not deceiving the rest of the world with stupidity and pranks. Again." (Gracias por no decepcionarnos en el mundo con estupidez y trucos. Otra vez.) For cheapo Ivan to actually make the call is pretty amazing.

While I miss the intellectual safehouse of university life, I am fortunate to work in one of the more liberal non-academic jobs out there. The Rock Hall is chock full of Obama-supporters. But what surprised me more than that was Cleveland - and more broadly Cuyahoga County - as a whole: 68% of one of the largest, most populated counties in the state went to Obama. The poor, impoverished, disenfranchised Ohioans of sad little economically-depreseed Cleveland decided that they have had enough. That it's time for CHANGE.

Yes we can. And in case you didn't see Will.I.Am's version, Yes we can.

I VOTED.

2008-10-22T14:19:00.000-04:00

It was pretty emotional! I felt so...American! There were hundreds of people voting, and it was efficient and organized and just plain EXCITING. I choked up a bit. After I voted (ps. A family friend is running for state attorney general! It was funny to see his name on the ballot. I love him dearly, but I didn't vote for him.) and put my ballot in the box, an elderly man shook my hand and said "Best of luck to you. Congratulations on your accomplishment." Dramatic? Perhaps. But I think that he understands what a privilege it is to cast a ballot and participate in (a version of) democracy. It felt pretty cool.

Plus, then when I was running back to work (I did this on my lunch break - I ran there and back), the streets were cordoned off and cops were directing traffic. Why? Because the circus is in town! There were elephants marching up E. 9th Street! It's the best of both worlds - India and the US!

This is me and my friend Hubert who works at the Rock Hall! Behind us on the left is Rock the Vote - complete with Bow Wow!

Busy Bee

2008-10-19T19:06:00.000-04:00

OK, so work has been completely NUTS lately. I've pulled a few 12-hour days at the Rock Hall in preparation for a teachers professional development workshop that we had on NEOEA Day (NorthEast Ohio Education Association). But it went well. Hard work paid off, and I actually got praise for a job well done. Who woulda thunk? It was fun, too, and I met some interesting teachers.

I'm not necessarily happy yet, but I'm less unhappy. Being busy helps. I cleaned the house today, ran errands yesterday after a hard run. I leave on Friday for Connecticut for the SEM conference and I really can't wait WAIT to see everyone. I just need my peeps.

Nik is coming up for my birthday (hopefully) and (well, our birthdays) I'm trying to plan fun, Cleveland-y stuff. Apparently it often snows around that time of year (late November) so we might even be able to squeeze in some sledding or some such nonsense. But then again, if global warming keeps, well, warming, we might be tanning on Lake Erie. You never know.

This election has me TENSE TENSE TENSE. Just as I believe vehemently that women have a right to choice and that I will never change my name if/when I get married and that air is partially composed of oxygen, I also feel that Sarah Palin is a bad, bad person who should not be in any office at all, let alone in the VP office. I can't shake it. Icky. Aaaarrrggghhhhh!!!! I think I'm going to vote early to save myself the undue heart attack.

This is the coffee shop where I have been going lately to work on the diss.

Unhappy?

2008-10-14T20:46:00.000-04:00

My counselor suggested today that I might be unhappy. I didn't think I was unhappy, exactly, just not that happy. Cleveland has yet to grow on me, and it probably won't at the rate that I spend thinking about the dissertation and feeling guilty when I'm not working on it. So not too much exploring has gone on. Running is about the only thing that keeps me sane these days. I don't think I'm unhappy, I just think I'm not content. I'm antsy (what else is new?) but it's kinda going to a new level. I'm super antsy, and anxious. What drew me to this exciting field that involves work that will never be finished? Oh yeah, the glamor. And the riches. Intellectual riches, that is. Work is crazy busy and then I get home and...I stare at the computer. Former professor and kind of friend John Hartigan had some words of wisdom when I ran into him at ACL Fest a few weeks ago: "It doesn't have to be award-winning. It just has to not suck completely. Who reads the dissesrtation? Six people: you and your committee. No one gives a shit, so get it done. Do it and call it a day. It just has to be passable, not genius. Worry about the genius for the book." I'd like to latch onto these words and take them with me every time I hit the computer, but the stupid perfectionism gets in the way. Plus I just miss Austin and everyone in it: friends, boyfriend, brother, the FAL, Barton Springs, the trail...I feel antsy here like I'm just waiting to go home. Boo.

The plus side is that my sanity (aka running) took me to the Cuyahoga National Park where I ran a half marathon on Sunday in 2'3" under arches of autumn leaves and next to babbling brooks and all that naturey stuff that is good for the soul. And the soles. Nice and cushy. It was a great race and made me feel really, really good.

Slash! Richie Sambora! Billy Gibbons!

2008-10-09T16:44:00.000-04:00

Ok, so this is shameless self-promotion and "dude! I work at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum!" Les Paul is our 2008 American Music Master and...we're getting some badass guitarists to celebrate his life (he's 93!) and legacy. Check out Cleveland.com for one of the press releases! Kinda fun. Sometimes I forget I work here. And then my office mate is shooting the bull with Slash. Whoa. Should be fun! And then I turn 30 just a few days later! :)

I have a half-marathon on Sunday and I am really excited. It's the Towpath Marathon/ Half-Marathon and it's the only marathon run in a national park. The weather is supposed to be lower 70s and sunny all weekend, so it should be a perfect run. I did my last long run (just 11 miles...not as long as training for a marathon!) on Monday and although I was tired, it was good and I felt good. I'm ready for my first race in Cleveland.

I'm crazy busy right now and Genevieve's friend's band is in town and staying at our place. They are so sweet! It's fun to play rock and roll hostess.

Things at work are nutty but great. Teaching is good but exhausting. So exhausting, in fact, that I will finish this post at a later date.

Braces & Sunshine

2008-09-30T21:06:00.000-04:00

I had a scary, scary, SCARY trip to the dentist a few weeks ago. It was a shady dentist who is probably just a front for the Polish mafia. I should've walked right out the door after I walked in to the filthy office reeking of cigarette smoke and decorated with 1970s brown stuff (dog, carpet, wallpaper, ceiling), but I didn't. And I regret it. But today I went to a REAL dentist and it was heavenly (who knew you could use such an adjective for a dentist?) AND he took out my bottom retainer! That sucker has been lining up my bottom six teeth for 15 years now, and it feels so WEIRD to not have it, but I also like it and am excited to floss. (!)

And as for the sunshine bit in that title, well, there isn't any here in Cleveland. Just cold rain. Icky, cold rain. And I don't have a car. Boo. I am wet and cold. And this feeling is only magnified after being in Austin for four days where it is sunny and gorgeous. The trail, Central Mark-up, friends, boyfriend and...sunshine at Austin City Limits music festival. Just a lovely, non-Cleveland weekend full of yummy, yuppie, Austiny stuff. I even hit up the library and Napoleon (the one and only!) checked out a "Library Use Only" book to me for a week! But now I am where the sun don't shine, and it's almost as icky as the real place where the sun don't shine. Poor Cleveland. Good city, bad rep, not Austin.

Grown up

2008-09-21T21:26:00.000-04:00

I don't usually feel very grown up. I just feel like an old kid. Like I'm still 12 or 17 or so. Even though I have a job, pay bills, blah blah, I just feel like a kid. But I just started feeling slightly more grown up, and even so, I still feel like a kid who's trying too hard. I met the Cleveland West Road Runners for a run on Saturday morning down at the GORGEOUS Rocky River Reservation. (Towering pines, enormous sycamores, ferns, deer...there are over 30 miles of trails in the Reservation and they are gorgeous!) After a nice eight mile run, I joined them for breakfast at a nearby coffee shop. Lawyers, engineers, teachers, salespeople, accountants, chemists, technicians...these are not ethnomusicologists or anthropologists or Latin Americanists. It's a first for me to be surrounded by so many normal people. (No offense to my delightfully abnormal cohorts whom I love dearly!) And it made me feel so grown-up! I know, I'm a dork who's about to turn 30, but whatever! I'm no grown-up! And I like grad school because I can feign perpetual youth and intellectual bravado. But the real world is kinda neat too, sometimes. I still want grad school back, and I still want to teach at a university, but for the time being, I think I'm having fun growing up.

Run the Trail

2008-09-19T13:53:00.000-04:00

No, silly! Not the campaign trail! The running trail. At Rocky River Nature Center in the Rocky River Reservation. I went for my first trail run last night with my new running partner, Matt, who has taken me for runs all over Cleveland and has been very encouraging. He picked me up from work and drove us both far west to the reservation. We met up with the Cleveland West Road Runners and hit the trail running. Ha! (I know, I know. I'm lame!) I've never done this before, and I half expected to break a leg or ankle or arm or head, but no! I was triumphant over the treacherous paths! And actually, they weren't that treacherous, but they were beautiful. It was me, Matt, Heidi (a hardcore trail runner), Glen, and Jim. I'm definitely the youngest! But it was just a blast - almost 8 miles of gorgeous trees and creeks and hills. There was one hill in particular that was pretty traumatizing - it was basically vertical! And of course I had to surge up it in order to prove myself (only Matt and I actually ran up the whole thing) and I nearly lost a lung and I gained two giant lumps in my quads - huge muscle knots. But it was SO worth it! After the exhilarating run in 65 degree weather, we went to the Great Lakes Brewing Company for beer and pizza and I got to meet a bunch of the other CWRR crew. It felt just great - hanging out with people that have generally just one thing in common: running. They were sweet and funny and easy to get along with. None of them will be my new best friend, none of them will come to my house for dinner, but a beer after a long trail run will happen regularly. I just love it. It made me feel welcome and healthy and happy. Cleveland has been a struggle for me, and this alleved some of my pain! I can't wait WAIT for the next run!

Cho

2008-09-17T21:44:00.000-04:00

Ahh, Margaret Cho. How eloquent you are. And I commend thee, Sister.

Evil Palin

2008-09-15T16:58:00.001-04:00

There's a reason why people label Sarah Palin as "scary" and "crazy." Read all about it here. Her penchant for favoritism, ignorance, and even book-banning (who bans books in 2008???) is appalling. There is good reason to be scared of her and what she might do should she enter office.

Pittsburgh and bugs

2008-09-15T13:33:00.001-04:00

The bug part first. I never get sick. Ok, I rarely get sick. But last week I was struggling - sore throat, dizzy, headachy, achy...it was icky. I slept for twelve hours on Friday night and for those of you who know me, you must know that I'm an 8-hour-a-night girl. Nothing more, nothing less. But DAMN did I need that sleep! So now I think it's on its way out, and I'm just dripping lotsa snot. Ick. I know. Sorry!

The Pittsburgh part is the more fun part. On Saturday afternoon, my friend Marcia picked me up and we drove to Pittsburgh to see Emily Pinkerton's CD release concert. Pittsburgh is gorgeous. Just stunning! The architecture and the bridges and the mountains and the river. I loved it. Emily played spectacularly - her new songs are gorgeous, and her musicianship is enviable. She played in a neat little venue called Your Inner Vagabond. Normally I avoid the hippie hangouts, but this space was pretty neat. It was covered in pillows and couches and Persian rugs with a sizeable corner stage and great sound. The atmosphere was warm and fuzzy and we had a great time. Then we slept in (late!) at Em's that night and had breakfast yesterday morning followed by a much-needed trip to Ikea. I got home and hit the sack because the bug plagues me still.

May Sarah Palin Kindly Stick Her Eye Out.

2008-09-09T13:51:00.000-04:00

This is my curse. Please. PLEASE.

This NYTimes writer nailed it on the head here.

Oh, the glory!

2008-09-07T15:58:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm not a sports fan. Although I can watch swimming or running all the time, and I can get excited about soccer during World Cup or when I'm in Spain or Peru, I generally hate organized sports. They bore me. And furthermore, it pisses me off how much money they make. Boo. BUT...I was raised by a Buckeye. A proud Ohio State University Buckeye who has been loyal since he started going to school there in 1962, finally finishing with an industrial design degree in 1968, I think. I've grown up going to Buckeye games, wearing scarlet and grey, cheering for The Best Damn Band In The Land, the all-brass marching band that spells out a human script Ohio, the best sousaphone player dotting the "i." I go to these games with my dad to spend time with him, doing what he loves to do: watch the Buckeyes play their homoerotic sport, tackling each other in nylon tights, slapping asses, bring the bread, it's a circus, we love gladiators. :) But I really do have fun. The sun burning my face, the popcorn and all its buttery margeriney glory crunching underfoot - it's just FUN. And so yesterday I drove down to Columbus to tailgate at 9am with my Dad and his friends - cute old people with biting senses of humor and lots of iced tea. Then we wandered around, watching the thousands (109,000) people dressed in scarlet and grey awaiting the game where the Buckeyes would slaughter the Ohio University Bobcats. Our noses bled, all the way back near the top, my neck matches my red shirts now, thanks to Mr. Sun, and I stood up with the rest of 'em when that one guy went running from one end of the field to the other, dodging the slower, fatter guys as he darted to the red-painted grass at, they tell me, the "endzone." Why is this so poetic, you wonder? Apparently football brings it out. Even though I hate it, if I'm at a Buckeyes game with my Dad, I love it. It almost makes me cry.

Roommates and Rockstars

2008-09-03T07:51:00.000-04:00

Actually, this post has little to do with rockstars, except for yours truly, but I liked the illiteration. speaking of the roommate part of it, I really like living with Cory. We respect each others' space, but we still have dinner together and she came with me to work on Friday to see my "action office" and to meet my co-workers. Oh, and we toured the museum together too. It's funny because for someone who works at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum, I rarely actually spend time in the museum. I walk out from our basement offices and am often surprised: people! Beatles stuff! Hustle and bustle! We had lots of fun, and then she went to her office (just two blocks from the Rock Hall) and I went to mine.

But of equal importance was my visit to Austin this weekend. It was just great. I spent lots of time with my brother (which rarely happens) and with Nik, Karla, Genevieve, Colin, and Dan and Laura who were evacuated from New Orleans. Karla and I ran the Nike Human Race together; it was the hardest race I have ever done - 97 degrees, sunny, 90% humidity, and 6 miles of HILLS. But Karla and I finished 2000 out of 12,000! Not too bad. I met Nik's family - parents, sister, aunt, uncle, cousins at his grandmother's house for a lunch. They were all super sweet and easy to get along with (as long as I left politics at the doorstep). I went to Barton Springs, I trained my successor at the journal, I ate migas, I went canoing...it was a busy, nutty weekend, but a really good one. I'll be back for ACL, so that's exciting!

My advisor forwarded me a job posting at the University of Oregon. I could TOTALLY live in Oregon! But I need to finish the dissertation before anything else and work at this job for a while before I get ahead of myself. Boo.

Pillars of the Earth

2008-08-24T20:50:00.000-04:00

So I meant to be more regular about this thing and it clearly hasn't happened. Oh well. I'll update you with what's been cooking lately.

First of all, of utmost interest, is that I have a roommate. My good friend Genevieve has a best friend, Cory, who was awarded a post-doc at the art museum here in Cleveland. She'll be doing research for a collection of miniatures they have here. She'll be here for about nine months and she initially stayed here while she was looking for a place to live. We found that we get along extremely well and have lots in common and similar standards of living, plus we both like to live alone and like our alone time. Therefore we really respect the other person's privacy and alone time and yet we can go grab beers together. As a result, we decided that it makes the most sense for both of us, as newbies to the city, slightly lonely and missing our respective friends and boyfriends, to live together. She has no furniture; I have tons. We're both kind of poor right now and could use the cheap rent for her / cheaper rent for me. We need company. I need a catsitter when I'm in Austin or at a conference or whathaveyou. So I have a roommate. :)

Second of all, I'm still not convinced by Cleveland. The weather is gorgeous - 86 and sunny every day. It's been kind of sticky lately, but I'll get over it. I went to the pool yesterday and just read and swam. It was delightful.

Thirdly, the job is going well. I've been charged with the professional development program we offer teachers here at the Rock Hall and this new challenge has required me to network in new ways. Also, a non-profit is launching an arts education program with eight Cleveland schools wherein arts orgs around Cleveland hold residencies, offer fieldtrip opps, and conduct distance leraning courses for these schools, all of which are k-8. The neat thing about this program is that we get paired with a school or two and actually get to know the students in it. Plus, we get to meet educators from all of these other fabulous arts organizations in Cleveland: the orchestra, the art museum, dance troupes, poetry groups, etc. It's pretty awesome to see the arts, including rock and roll!, flourish in such productive ways among young people. Fun fun fun!

I'm joining a book club with my old college roommate, Arlie. Arlie is a novelist and poet, and has turned me on to lots of fabulous authors including Jeannette Winterson, Ruth Ozeki, and Louise Erdich. So I thought this would be a good opportunity to read fiction while in the midst of the dissertation and also to meet other women in my city. And it will be. It's just that each woman in the book club gets to choose a book and sometimes it's a book that's slightly less, well, Erdichey than Erdich. And this month's book is Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follet. Just the name - Ken Follet - elicits memories of trying to read in Spanish. His books were always an easy read, and I could keep up my bilingual chops when living in Spain. Well, I guess that sums it up. ;)

I'm going to Austin for Labor Day Weekend! Hooray! I wanted to go somewhere - I really wanted to go to New Orleans to visit Dan and Laura, but it turns out that I really need to get to Austin to train the new assistant editor of the journal, and also to dispute a library fine. Boo. But it's not torture; I'll be seeing my brother and everyone else, so I'm excited. And it's kind of funny because I'll be back in Austin in four weeks to hit up ACL with Genevieve. Woo!

Today I like it ok.

2008-08-03T21:51:00.000-04:00

After a grueling morning and afternoon in front of the computer, trying to meet a deadline, I decided I needed to go for a run. At 4:00 in the afternoon. Yes, you can run in Cleveland at 4 and won't die of heatstroke. It was about 85 and sunny and I decided to go 25 minutes out, 25 minutes back, about five miles. I decided to push it slightly, because I was frustrated with my writing and needed to breathe hard. I ran down Lake Avenue and then down Edgewater Boulevard. True to its name, it is on the water's edge. And as I turned a bend, I nearly choked. All of the sudden there was a spectacular view of a beach, sailboats, the city skyline (I could even see the Rock Hall!) and this was only 15 minutes into my run! I kept on rolling, past a huge Indian picnic (I half hoped they would invite me to some samosas), past a game of cricket, a Puerto Rican cookout, tons of kids playing in the park, climbing trees and running around, past cyclists, dogwalkers, and down a hill to the beach. Right at Edgewater Beach I hit 25 minutes and turned around only to face the huge hill I had run down. I barreled up it, and was sufficiently out of breath at the top, making the run really nice. I ran back home under shady trees, watching the sailboats, passing the occasional teenager wandering home after a day at the beach. Today I like it here ok.

Today I hate it here.

2008-08-02T12:50:00.000-04:00

Some days, I like Cleveland. Some days I don't. Most days I miss Austin. Today I hate it. Mostly because today it's pretty and sunshiney and there's an art festival in downtown Lakewood and I'm at the beautiful newly remodeled library working on a chapter. You'd think this would be a day when I love it. But no, it just makes me think of Austin and how the library in Austin is better, the art festivals in Austin are prettier, the sun is brighter, the people are nicer. Some days I just compare, which isn't really fair, but I don't care. I'm a poet, by the way.

In the neighborhood

2008-07-31T21:26:00.001-04:00

So I live in a town just west of Cleveland called Lakewood. It's a front porch kind of place. As in, during a hot, summer afternoon, people are usually lazing on their front porches, napping, watching the world go by, relaxing, chatting, eating, drinking, playing...it's quite the gathering place after 5pm. Not many of these old rambling houses have air conditioning beyond a window unit or two, so there is lots of fanning and lounging. It's pretty neat.

Neater, though, is the diversity. Normally I ride my bike to and from work but today circumstances had me taking the train home. This requires a mile hike from the train station to my apartment. Well, I could take a bus, but it's nice weather so I opted for the walk. On days like these, walking from the rapid stop, I meander through these neat old neighborhoods, taking side streets and backroads to my place, looking at the architecture, the gardens, the kids, the porchers, as I'll call them. And on today's stroll, I heard several different languages drifting from different porches. Arabic, Slavic (or some kind of Eastern European something-or-other), Hindi, Thai or Vietnamese (not exactly sure which), English, rapid-fire Puerto Rican Spanish, and unidentified something else, maybe Romanian (it sounded Romance-language-like, but not Itallian or Spanish or Portuguese or French). A cute old Eastern European yelled at her grandkids, an Arabic woman called out to another neighbor, the Puerto Ricans were bickering about who was really winning the card game...It was pretty neat. Not something you see everyday. Well, at least not in cities I've lived in recently.

I met a neighbor last night. He lives in #3 with his partner and they are from California. He was rather open about his mother's current bout with cancer, his job downtown and his aversion to cars (yay!), and then he shared that he doesn't usually share this much but he drank a lot of wine. Kinda funny. Sweet neighbor, though, and he helped me carry my groceries up the rickety back stairs to my apt.

Big Picture.

2008-07-26T09:37:00.000-04:00

So this is the BIG PICTURE that made my goodbye in Madison so hard. It's tough, because as adults, we tend to get more insular, or at least that's the pattern that I see. My family is small: Dad, Tim, and a great uncle and aunt. So my friends are my family. And just as it's hard for most people to be away from their families, it sucks for me. Genevieve was my emergency number in Austin and she's on my bank accounts. Everyone in this picture had a key to my apartment. Four of them have run marathons with me, one moved me to Cleveland, another supported me when my grandmother died, and yet another cared for my cat for 11 months. Family, dude. Family.

Back with a (meek) vengeance

2008-07-24T21:25:00.000-04:00

A great record store in Cleveland.

Sorry it's been so long. I vow to make this a weekly thing, to keep you people in the loop, especially as my new 9 to 5 keeps me exhausted all the time and I get home from work and fall asleep. But a quick summary of recent turns of events:

1. I went to India with Meera from June 9 to the 30th. It was an amazing time. I had no work or research or school agenda. All I had to do was follow Meera around, eat a lot of unbelievable food, meet wonderful people, and see phenomenal sites. It was just an extraordinary vacation. I could DEFINITELY live in India (or at least Madras). Meera's family is so sweet and generous, and they were fantastic hosts. We started in Bombay, meandered via bus down to Pune and Lonavala, made our way back to Bombay to fly to Madras. From Madras we trained it to Bangalore and Mysore and then back to Madras. The food EVERYWHERE was delicious. I didn't get sick even once (mostly because we were very careful about water) and I actually gained weight. The weather was gorgeous, especially in Bangalore, a balmy 78 every day. Madras weather was just like Austin's, so no surprises there. And the "monsoon" season in Bombay was on hiatus while we were there. We went to a mehndi, shopped like fools, ate like crazy, visited temples, watched movies, sat around and shot the bull with Meera's friends and family, and generally relaxed. It reminded me a lot of Peru except that I don't speak the language and people were cooler and it was safer. I'm thinking about relocating to India after a few years at the Rock Hall. I loved it that much.

Me, Mitali, Vik, and Meera and the mehndi

2. Back in Austin, I made the traumatizing move to Cleveland. I had my going away shindig at my brother's house before I left for India, but I still had a good five days in between India and Cleveland. It was tough. It still is. But I was tempered by the fact that I would see most of my nearest and dearest at Michael's wedding just a short week later. So on the 5th of July, after a long day at Barton Springs, Nik and I flew to Cleveland where my Dad and his friend Joan picked us up from the airport and we spent the first night in my new house. [side note: My Dad, brother, and boyfriend loaded a van while I was in India and my dad and brother drove it up to Cleveland and unloaded it. Not a box did I have to lift.]

3. Cleveland. My apartment was filthy when I arrived. My landlord ran out of time, I guess, and didn't get the past 14 years of filth cleaned before a new tenant moved in. Disgusting. The first few days were mainly spent scrubbing. And scrubbing some more. The first week was exhausting because I started work on Monday, got home to clean, and then go to bed and work the next day. But a good distraction from missing Austin.

4. Madison! Nik (who is visiting for the first three weeks to help me get settled and whatnot) and I rented a car and drove to Madison for Michael's wedding celebration. Besides the absence of Laura, Dan, Elio, and Colin, everyone was there: Genevieve, Karla, K.C., Sonia, and of course, the bride and groom. We had a casual night on the lake on Friday night, and then a reunion run on Saturday morning. The weather was gorgeous and we went to an art festival during the day and eventually made it back to the Union on the lake for the festivities, which were perfect. Lots of drinking, an impromptu "best man" toast, lots of dancing and debauchery. It was a wonderful night. On Sunday morning, we headed out to the country to Michael's mom's house for a delicious brunch overlooking the woods and the countryside. Then the trauma: saying goodbye to all these people. Who I know I will see again, but I'm used to seeing them daily. It was really hard. Really, really hard. Phone calls and letters and emails aren't the same as "hey, let's go grab a bite in 10 minutes." Grrrrrr......

5. Back in Cleveland. The job is good. My boss is just terrific and the opportunities are really great. I get to co-lead a seminar at Case Western in the spring, and we're doing more outreach (or at least trying to) to special needs kids. Chubby Checker twisted at the hall last night, and I get to meet all kinds of other legends in the industry. It's a great job, but it's really hard adjusting to 9 to 5. In the long run, I'm going to have to end up in the academic circuit for the schedule. No summers off at the Rock Hall. But a lot of great experience, and actually doing applied ethnomusicology. Who woulda thunk?

The Rock Hall.

6. Housewarming. So last weekend I had a housewarming get-together. On Saturday, Nik and I road our bikes down to the West Side Market, an amazing open air market indoors (which doesn't make sense, but it does when you see it. You feel like you're at a market in Europe). It's just gorgeous and exciting - people from all over the world selling produce, meat, handmade pasta, bulk spices, coffees, teas, bread, desserts...Lebanese, Brazilians, Cubans, Slovaks, Puerto Ricans, Iranians, Indians, Mexicans, Poles...just about everyone from everywhere. We ate crepes filled with blueberries, strawberries and chantilly and bopped around the market and the art fair outside. Then back to the house for a SERIOUSLY INTENSE cleaning session. Nearly two weeks and boxes were still everywhere, we still hadn't mopped the (disgusting) floors, and people were coming over! So for about six hours, we slaved and the final product was really worth it. If nothing else, my apartment is gorgeous. Stunning, really. 1200 square feet for me and my cat (and my man, or at least until Monday). Hardwood floors, 12 foot ceilings, huge windows, a window seat, built-in cabinets with leaded glass windows....really terrific.

West Side Market - the non-produce part.

And the party went over well! In attendance were
Kami, a good friend and former glassblowing partner who drove up from Columbus
Jeremy, friend from college who I've known for 12 years.
Savannah Rose, Jeremy's roommate (I stayed with them for 2 weeks back in May)
Susan and Greg, my work colleague and her NASA boyfriend
Alicia and Nick, an old friend I met in Spain in 99 and her husband
Anya, a great Russian med student who I met at the market earlier that day

It was a good mix of people, and they stayed until almost midnight. My house feels warm.

Nik and I try to explore Cleveland when I'm not working or dissertating or sleeping. We went to see the Hold Steady with a coworker and her husband at a venue called the Beachland Ballroom, which reminds me of the Parish. The Hold Steady are only OK on cd, but they're great in concert. We saw Chubby Checker last night at the Rock Hall. We ride our bikes to restaurants and the grocery store. (Honestly, it's going to be tough to be car-free here, but I am determined to do it, at least until November.) Cleveland is a really pretty city but a sad one. It has the largest numbers of people leaving it, more than any other big city in the US, even more than New Orleans post-Katrina. Economically depressed, Cleveland is trying to grow but to no avail. There are hip places to hang out, and neat venues and cool people, but they're kind of spread out, so you have to go find it yourself. If I had my dissertation finished, I'd be out every night. *Sigh*

West Side Market.

And I think that's a (long) wrap. I'll be better about updating. In the meantime, here's to new adventures!

And for those of you who haven't met my man friend, here is a less than flattering picture of the two of us, but it's all I could find right now. Here's Nik!

Cleveburg.

2008-05-20T21:48:00.000-04:00

So I am adjusting to Cleveland. I signed a lease on my new apartment today (see the gorgeous sunroom below and also the outside of the apartment building, built in 1917). The landlord is a young, hip dude (seriously. He's a DUDE.) and is pretty easy-going. The location is superb: two blocks from Lake Erie, 10 blocks from a gorgeous park, 6 blocks from a grocery store, 1 block from the strip with all the restaurants and stuff, and the bus stop that goes STRAIGHT to the Rock hall is right in front of my front door. It has two bedrooms, a new kitchen (with marble countertops), a dining room with built-in bookshelves with leaded glass doors, a big living room with a mantle, and a SUNROOM. Heat is included, and the windows are energy-efficient anyway. Oh, and there's a bathroom. It's on the third floor and it's a quick 25 minute bike ride to work. Wow!

Work is good. I rode my bike to work today, and it was a great ride. Half of it is along the lake and while it's windy around there, it's gorgeous. I got to work nice and early and got ahead of some stuff for today. A big funder came to observe our classes today, so we really had to do well and be efficient. Everything went smoothly. This is seriously a dream job: ethnomusicology, rock and roll, design, education, organization, cool people. What else could you possibly want? If it had a glass studio and was located in Austin, it would be heaven. My coworkers are SERIOUSLY awesome. My boss is great, and funny, and really genuine. We get along very well. I feel like I've been working here for ages. And there are perks too: Matt Pinfield is giving a talk tomorrow night and I get to meet him. Cool!

Here's a picture of the Rock Hall. This is actually the back, but I like the angles a lot. The view from the hall is gorgeous. It's literally built into the lake, so you can see water for miles. And it's right downtown so you can really see the neat, industrial, neo-gothic architecture at every turn.

I'm doing well but I can't WAIT to get back to Austin on Saturday night for Michael's party. I miss everyone so much. And Friday is the anniversary of my mom's death, so clearly I would rather be with my friends in Austin. Although that will partially come true: I see Emily Pinkerton on Friday evening. Hooray!

All Growed Up

2008-05-14T22:13:00.000-04:00

So this morning, I got up at 7am, took a shower, got dressed, and walked to the diner down the street to buy orange juice (ok, maybe I'm not THAT grown up) and then crossed the street to the Rapid station to wait for the train. The train came, I listened to Willie while looking at Cleveland as it whizzed by me, and then I got off at the Tower City stop in the middle of downtown. I walked the seven or eight blocks from the stop to work, down Superior Avenue, east on St. Claire, north on E. 9th until I got to the Rock Hall around 8:30am. I walked in, activated my badge and went to my office space (more than a cubicle, less than an office) and set up my rockhall account. I accompanied Susan, the education programs director, up to the auditorium where we set up the hall for the lecture that would first be 5th and 8th graders and then would be 7th graders at a later class. She lectured; I watched. I walked to lunch at a place called The Galleria where I had carrot curry soup and a mediterranean salad with freshly baked bread while I read the NY Times. I walked back to work, organized my office space, finished signing all the insurance forms and whatnot and then had a meeting with my boss Jason about the lecture that I'm going to give tomorrow (hooray!) and then I met with the human resources girl, Holly, who tried to explain the retirement plan they have that I only kind of understand. At about 5:45 I deactivated my badge and walked to the Rapid station. I hopped on the train, looked out the window and talked to Karla on the phone, and got off at 117th and Madison. I swung by the Dollar Store to buy some shampoo and then walked back to Jeremy's apartment. We drove my rental to Nature's Bin to go grocery shopping and then stopped by a Lebanese joint for falafl and babaganouj (yum!). We ate, drank some wine, shot the bull and then I called about apartments. I checked my email and now I'm going to bed (at 10:25pm).

This is currently my life.

Last name throwdown again...

2008-05-08T16:41:00.001-04:00

I found THIS to be very interesting.

Changes Part 2

2008-05-08T16:11:00.000-04:00

I am moving to Cleveland, Ohio to work at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum (the funny-shaped white building a little to the left there) teaching rock and roll. I will do my best to stay with my boyfriend, Nik, during this process and we'll see what we can work out. I go to Cleveland this coming Monday for 2 weeks to get oriented to the job, I get back here on May 24, go to a few weddings, start packing, and then on June 9 I go to India for three weeks with Meera. I get back from India and move to Cleveland during the 4th of July weekend. And then I will be an Ohioan again.

Wow.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2008-05-04T19:38:00.000-04:00

1. I love Austin (no change there, it's just related to the below changes and potential changes)

2. I may move to Cleveland for a cool job.

3. I have a dating associate. Aka "boyfriend."

Wtf?!?!?!?! When it rains, it pours.

Pro-Crast-I-Nation!

2008-04-21T20:27:00.000-04:00

I guess I blog to procrastinate. I need to be writing more. Bad text is better than no text, says Robin Moore. I think he's right. This stuff needs to happen. It needs to FLY. I need a rigorous schedule during which nothing but WRITING happens.

Good news: I set up a phone interview with Ruth Karina, the first major cumbia star from Iquitos!
Hooray! Of Euforia fame, she drove Amazonian cumbia to the top of the charts (and actually, there are no charts, but it's the best analogy I can think of) and she is SUPER important in the short history of tecno-cumbia, toadas, and chicha. And I get to interview her this weekend! Hooray for me!

The Pope

2008-04-20T17:05:00.001-04:00

OK, I'll admit it. I was raised Catholic. And I play the Catholic card when in South America...it often helps. I still believe in God, although I have serious issues with the Catholic Church and only go to mass...well, when I'm playing a wedding. Or attending a wedding. And occasionally for the music, if it's gonna be good.

But I never held stock in the Pope, and this one far less than the last. And here he is, in all his hypocritical glory, trying to make it look like he sympathizes with these victims of sexual abuse, when a lot of those priests never even got fired in the first place - they were just moved to other dioceses far away! Can you believe that? And he makes it look like he's all supportive and whatnot. Are you kidding me? Why is it that most child molesters end up in prison and have to live a good 2 miles from a grade school and these guys just get to start over, albeit in Nebraska or something. My proposal for the Catholic Church? (One among many, but my beef today will be brief.) Let priests get married or cohabitate with their partners. And let women be priests. No small task, I know, but jeez louise!

No no drama!!!

2008-04-17T09:27:00.000-04:00

Honestly, Peru was nothing but drama. Some good, some bad. But here, in ATX, there is no drama. Except last night when Sonia and I went to see Carmen by Bizet. Now, THAT'S drama! For real! Why doesn't Don Jose get a clue? Geez. Get over it. And don't kill someone just because she doesn't like you back. Not that I'd date a matador; I'd worry my lover would be at death's door every time I ate a hamburger. Really.

But it got me thinking about the drama that exists in Peru (or maybe it's just the jungle). A lot of people thrive on it. Maybe it's because it's a small city. Or maybe it's related to the concept of survival. Or maybe it's leftover defense mechanism from the violent colonial days. Or maybe it's a result of the colonial days; maybe it was the Spaniards that dug the drama. Regardless, there's so much of it, it'll make your head spin.

And it's funny, because the drama that I have in my life here in Austin is hardly drama. I fractured my foot and couldn't run for six weeks. Pretty dramatic for me. And then there's always the stupid dissertation drama, but that couldn't be more boring. The anxiety is what makes it halfway exciting, on the other hand. My herbs are growing and flourishing. Really, I have no drama. Except for the occasional opera. Stupid Don Jose. And sexy Carmencita. Could Bizet have exoticized the Other any more? Probably not. Maybe if he made them walk around with little coins hanging off their skirts. That's a costume design thing, though.

Drama? Academics definitely have drama, but they bring it on them own damn selves. Dude, we're not Doctors Without Borders. Get over it! Seriously, all the Don Joses of the Ivory Tower. If I ever become a petty, obsessive professor, will someone slap me please?

Water and Sunshine

2008-04-11T12:23:00.001-04:00

Warning: long, rambling mediation about water to follow. Read at your own risk!

Ok, so I'm a Scorpio, which is apparently a water sign. And that's no surprise for me. My mom and Nana were also Scorpios and HUGE water babies. My mom was a water ballerina and swam in some pretty fantastic competitions, and she grew up on beaches (as did my Nana). I had always lived near water until we moved to central Ohio and I think that was my big beef about living there. I need water. I work in the Amazon for crying out loud! Water EVERYWHERE! And it's funny, because I don't drink nearly as much water as I should, but I like being around it, in it, looking at it, dipping my toes in it, running by it, swimming in it, tubing in it, whatever. And with that whole schtick comes SUNSHINE. I love sunshine. I'm not going to tan outside for hours on end, but just to be in the sunshine on my bike or better yet, while in water, is thrilling for me. I really believe that my mom became a teacher not only because she loved kids and was good at it, but also because she got those three precious months of water and sun in the summer time. And now that Austin is all springy and neon green, it makes me want to be outside or outside and in water or near water that much more.

So yesterday I went to swim at the outdoor lap pool at Gregory Gym at 12:30 in the afternoon. It was sunny and breezy and beautiful. The best part was looking at the reflection of the sunlight on the floor of the pool as I was swimming. When my hands broke the water, they looked like water bugs, skating on the bottom instead of on the surface. I need / want / cannot live without WATER. Which is why I'll never take a job in Nebraska. At least Cleveland has Lake Erie. Austin has Town Lake. Peru has the Amazon.

Here's my ranking, from favorite to least favorite bodies of water:
1. The Ocean.
It always changes, is never the same, smells wonderful, gives new creatures, sand, shells, tides every day. The same beach never looks the same from day to day. The changes are sometimes subtle and sometimes extreme, but Lord knows I love the ocean. Especially the Atlantic, but that's probably because I have spent the most time in it. My family is from an island in Rhode Island, and I know those beaches like the back of my hand.

Third Beach, Middletown, Rhode Island

2. The River.
Rivers are extraordinary. Smaller oceans, really, because they change regularly too and they also have currents. Of course the changes are slower, but they're there. The nice thing about a river is that the water is never stagnant, like what will often happen with a pool, pond, or small lake. I like knowing that new water is there all the time. And in the Amazon, every river is completely different from every other river. Some have black water, some have brown or green or clear water, some are fast moving, some are slow, some have shores some go right to the trees. It's pretty neat.

Nanay River, Santa Clara, Iquitos, Peru

3. Big Lake. Big lakes (like Lake Michigan or Erie or Titicaca) are cold and BIG. I like the size; nothing can stagnate, and you can't see to the other side. Really nice for sailing safely.

4. Big Lagoons or Big Pools or Big Quarries. For me to feel comfortable in a lagoon, it has to be pretty sizeable. I'm anti-leeches and I don't like too much icky mud between my toes. Icky mud to a minimum, please. But the big lagoons of Iquitos are great because they are really deep and cold and predictable. Barton Springs is right here, although I would put it at the top of my list in terms of actual sites to go; it's extraordinary. I do love it.

Zungaro Cocha, Iquitos, Peru

Barton Springs, Austin, Texas

5. Pools. With Chlorine. I like pools. A lot. Even with chlorine and no nature. Mostly because I like the light on the bottom of the pool.

Lion's Club Pool, Iquitos, Peru

6. Creeks. Creeks are actually nice, but you can't often swim in them. But I like wading in them or skipping stones in them. There are some creeks in central Austin that you can swim in, and they are pretty magical and otherworldly.

7. Ponds. Actually, I don't like ponds.

I can't believe I just spent all this time on a meditation about water. I'm a dork. But that swim yesterday inspired me! I love love love love LOVE being in or around water!

I LOVE THIS CITY!

2008-04-06T22:29:00.001-04:00

Today began with hot yoga. It continued with a trip to Old Navy. And then RunTex super sale (using my Christmas gift certificate). And then Town Lake. And bluebonnets. Listened to some music at Waterloo Records, rode some of the greenbelt. Nap, dinner with Tim and Erika. Schoolwork. Ice Cream. Bed.

Ahhhhhhh........

Weather or not...

2008-04-01T15:54:00.000-04:00

Well, I think Austin's dreary weather of late has been getting to me. I'm not sure if it's that or just the regular old down-droddenness that comes with slacking off on the ole diss. Regardless, it's been more of a challenge to remain upbeat, or at least for the past two days. I stress out at the littlest thing. Alas...

I sometimes get in these moods when I just need new music. I almost biked to Waterloo records yesterday in the middle of the day just to buy a new CD, even though I don't exactly have money to be burning on that kind of stuff right now. I've spent a good amount of change lately, on all kinds of crap, and I was really living quite frugally for some time. Monk-like, really. With this India trip coming up in June, I can't quite afford to be blowing cash all over the place. Boo.

I had a wonderful time last night with Meera, Mehdi, and Seetha. It was nutty because we all had different cravings for dinner and couldn't settle on a place. So we ended up at Whole Foods where Mehdi bought pizza, Meera bought a salad, I bought Indian food, and Seetha bought roasted chicken. We had been craving s'mores and lo and behold, Meera pops up with tealight candles, yummy dark chocolate, organic graham crackers and natural marshmallows (who knew such a thing existed?). We roasted our s'mores right there on the Whole Foods patio and shot the bull until 11:30pm. Wow! You can tell I'm not running these days; I can NEVER stay up that late on a school night!

Sunday night was fun, too, because we (Meera, Nik, April, Michael, and I) headed to Ryan and Patrick's for a wonderful cookout complete with stuffed crabs, tofu kebabs (thanks to the ever thoughtful Nik), goat cheese, basil, & portabella salad (go Meera!) and steak and watermelon. It was a feast and it was the perfect end to a weekend. So good to spend time with old friends.

And boardgamers among you, beware! I am obsessed with Settlers of Catan. It rocks.

The Fam-damily & Other Updates

2008-03-02T15:23:00.000-05:00

So my brother, Tim, his girlfriend of four years, Erika, and her younger sister, Robin all live in Austin now, and a few weeks ago we ate brunch with my cousin Andrew, his best friend John, and one of my nearest and dearest, April. It was a wonderful time, just laughing and telling stories and talking politics and shooting the bull. I just love LOVE having him in the same town! It makes me feel great to say he lives here and I just saw him last night. I really love it. I have family! Here! In Austin!

I visited Dan S., Laura W. and their baby, Elio, a few weeks ago and it was such an ideal vacation. Instead of having to shuffle from site to site, trying to absorb everything of, say, New York or San Fran, we just sat back and shot the bull and relaxed. They live in Williamsburg, Virginia where there really isn't too much to do, and so we had a ball just playing board games, cooking, and hanging out with adorable Elio. It was so much FUN.

And I managed to fracture my foot about a week before leaving for Williamsburg, so that made the vacation that much more fun! Ha ha! I'm such a klutz.

Lately I have been missing Peru. My people there, my life there, the sunshine there. I feel a pretty deep commitment to the Amazon, and it has really become a part of me. Although I had plenty of bad experiences there, in all it was just so...strengthening. I really miss it.

So many weddings this summer! Jen and Carlos in May, Tommy and Selina in June and Michael and Julia in July! I guess we're all growing up...

Rodham

2008-02-26T21:40:00.000-05:00

Seriously, Hillary, who do you think you're kidding? This woman was always Hillary Rodham Clinton. She ALWAYS sporting the maiden-name-as-middle-name thing. It was her thing, her "I'm a liberal and a feminist" thing. But please note how she dropped it in her presidential race...to ride the shirttails of her husband, perhaps? Or worse, to seem more attractive to more conservative, wealthy women who would like to consider themselves liberal but are more comfortable with a woman who is solidly her husband's wife? I think she is just getting on my last nerve these days, so every last thing bugs me. And here I am, supposedly writing Chapter 2 and yet listening to the debate at the same time. C'mon, Barack, you can do it! Barack and roll! (ha ha ha!)

Hope.

2008-02-25T22:47:00.000-05:00

Hope is a dangerous thing. It makes you think things are possible and if they aren't, it sucks. Hope can also be pretty thrilling, and it can carry you through tough stuff. Right now, I am (cautiously) hopeful about a few things:

1. That Barack Obama will win. My friend Genevieve and I have discussed how we will probably cry big alligator tears if he doesn't. It will be so disappointing, honestly, and I can only hope that if my hope doesn't pan out, I won't be too let down.

2. That I can make this dissertation magic happen. I really need this hope to pull me through, because I have a lot riding on it, including the approval of my advisor and my future career. No pressure.

3. That my finances don't get sticky. Not having a car has helped me save some cash, not only because I'm not spending on gas, car insurance, or maintenance, but also because I'm not getting in a car to go to Target or other places where I spend money. It's been a good thing, so here's hoping I can maintain my fiscal frugality and sustain myself without loans until I graduate with the ole Ph.D.

Here's hoping...

Ran dat.

2008-02-21T09:34:00.000-05:00

Yup, I have now completed my third marathon. Three! Somehow it feels more real now that I'm a marathon runner. The first one was kind of a fluke, like I'm just testing this, to see how it works and if I can do it. The second one was more like, well, let's try it again to see if I'm allergic to it or if I can do it again. The third one was a big ole heck yeah, I run marathons. Three, actually. And two half marathons. And many a 10k, 5 miler, and 3k just for kicks. And now I really AM a runner.

The race was great EXCEPT for the five bathroom breaks. Dude, uncomfortable! I had stomach cramps until mile 18. The good thing was that those last 8 miles were awesome, mostly because I was finally in the clear, if you catch my drift. I finished in 4'44", which I don't think is too bad considering a good 22 minutes were spent in the port-o-john. Anyway, can't wait for Chicago this year and now (once my quads no longer buckle under my weight) I'm going to concentrate on strength-training. Heck yeah!

And for a quick political info moment:

I wanted to let you know that Texas has a unique two-step process of an open primary AND caucus. Voting in the primary DOES NOT GUARANTEE a delegate vote; you must ALSO vote in the caucus that opens at 7:15pm (for Democrats; 8:00pm for Republicans) on March 4th (after the primary closes). Please be sure to find out where your primary precinct polling place is (you participate in the caucus at the same place where you vote in the primary) to sign the affidavit in the caucus. No lines, no mush - you just have to sign your name. It seems like a pain to vote twice in the same day at the same place, but you can avoid that by VOTING EARLY until February 29. You will still need go to your polling place after 7:15pm on Tuesday, March 4 even if you vote early in the primary.

Early Voting Places
http://www.co.travis.tx.us/county_clerk/election/20080304/early.asp

For information about what number your precinct is for the March 4 primary, please see
https://team.sos.state.tx.us/voterws/viw/faces/SearchSelectionPolling.jsp

and cross reference that precinct number:
http://www.co.travis.tx.us/county_clerk/election/20080304/polls.asp

And for a breakdown of how the delegates & super delegates are distributed throughout Texas, please see
http://www.lonestarproject.net/

Thank you,
Kathryn

12 days and counting

2008-02-05T14:49:00.000-05:00

So, the AT&T Austin Rock and Roll Marathon is just around the corner - in 12 days, to be precise. Sunday, February 17, 2008 I will be running 26+ miles for 4+ hours in 50F+ temperatures with 100+ attitude! Bust it. I am really excited for the race (my third marathon! Hooray!) but I am also eager to get it over with. Long (and 15+ miles constitute as long) runs on Sundays tucker me out, and my nerves are getting on my nerves too. The forecast is up and it looks like it'll be around 48 when we start and about 74 when we finish. A bit warmer than I would like, but at least it's no horror story like Chicago this past year. Marathon running makes me feel alive, challenged, excited, happy, and fit. I really love it! This year, I am going to dedicate each mile to a friend (i.e. Mile 1 is for April, Mile 2 for my brother, etc. Mile 26 will go out to my mom for sure!) and hopefully that will keep me distracted from the pain of running 26.2 miles!

In the meantime, on the dissertation front, it's hard not to think that I'm a fraud. I just wonder if people have been pushing me along, shuffling me into completion of this degree. I feel underqualified and unfit to be finishing a Ph.D. and to begin to even contemplate a job market. I know that this is the typical anxiety that plagues all Ph.D.ers, but it's really eating at me. As are the guilt and desperation to do well and finish! Damn this road is a long one.

Choices

2008-01-22T14:03:00.000-05:00

Well, I’ve been back for a week now, and things are going OK. It’s so weird how one morning you’re in Peru, shooting the bull in Spanish, drinking papaya juice and eating humitas (kind of like corn tomales) and then just seven hours later, you’re jostling with people of all shapes and sizes in Houston. In some senses, it feels like I was never even there. And yet I can see the remnants of the trip: some physical, like my tan and calluses from my motorcycle; some emotional, like me missing my friends and family there; and some philosophical, like me just thinking too much about life in Peru and the occasional daydream about living there longer, even though I don’t really want to.

A few things hit me when I was there this trip. First of all, how normal things can seem. One evening, I left my friend Wendy’s house to go home, and it just seemed so ridiculously natural and normal to hop on my motorcycle, run a few red lights, stop for a quick hamburger and roll on home in the evening sprinkle as Mother Nature geared up for a storm. It’s so normal to fall asleep to the soft rain on the thatch roof, to wake up to the hustle and bustle of the lumber yard and the dogs frantically seeking attention before the day begins. Just…normal. Crazy, huh?

It also hit me the importance of choice. I choose who will be my friend. As in, I choose who will NOT be my friend, and I don’t need to feel badly about that. There are a few people who took advantage of me in different ways when I lived there, and I just didn’t call them back. Or I just told them straight up: NO. And that was pretty empowering.

I learned how difficult perfectionism is for me, no matter what. I can’t expect to be cured; this will be an ongoing battle until I die. Alas…

My last week was filled with neat things, from playing with Explosión to a press conference with the same group (how exciting!) to ceviche with Mario, a long run out in the jungle, a wonderful bath in the river, complete with soap and shampoo, beers with friends, and interviews corroborated by other people. There was beach in Lima, and especially folk music in Barranco. That was terrific. Silvio, Violeta, Cat Stevens…

I wish I had kept up with the blog more, but general craziness prohibited regular updates. But know this: I have Grown and Changed. And I am glad for it. This trip was terrific – even the sad lunch in the cemetery for Victor was good in its way, allowing for some closure.

And on that note, let us celebrate today the possibility of CHOICE on the anniversary of Roe v, Wade. I can choose, and that is an important marker of my freedom. Many women in Peru are hardly given that opportunity, or if they have access, they have no money to make it happen and another starving baby is born into a life of hardship and illness. By the way, my seventeen year old friend Ana, who I counseled on the importance of safe sex, is now four months pregnant and with two STDs. Way to end this on a happy note, right?

OK, go see the movie Juno. That’ll put you in a great mood! Terrific in just about every way.

2008, baby!!!!!!!!!

2008-01-03T16:15:00.000-05:00

Fun Fact No. 4a: Junkyards. Stuff gets stolen here all the time, and it's really random stuff, too. Like my gas cap. My motorcycle is a bit of a piece of crap, and the parts are hardly worth anything. (Let's face it. The motorcycle itself is hardly worth anything.) But someone stole my crappy, already second-hand gas cap. So I headed out to Tacorra, the junkyard, where you can buy stolen junk. Including gas caps. For about $3 I bought a (new) gas cap. For all I know, it might be the one that was stolen from my moto. Oh well. Kind of funny, though, because I bought it from a lady who runs a stall selling (stolen) toilet seats, chains, irons, blenders, hubcaps, and scary baby dolls with eyes that open when they're upright and close when their prostrate. Creepy.

---

We are now in the year in which I turn 30. Wow! I've been thinking about that a lot lately and I don't know why. I'm excited: I think that when I'm 30 I'll have to consider myself a grown-up, right? I feel pretty liberated, like I've made it this far and whew! 1978, baby! And now, all of the sudden, 2008. How time flies!

New Year's was just as chill as Christmas, although I did manage to stay awake to see the sunrise at 6am. I played with Explosion a couple of salsa tunes that I have never played before, which challenged my improvisation skills. It was only in front of 3,000 people. Are you kidding me??? Jeez Louise! But it went well, I guess, and then I just danced for a bit before going to my friend Wendy's for a glass of wine, music, and the sunrise. There's nothing like the sunrise over the Amazon river!

I really try not to take anything for granted here; I try to make everything last because I just don't know when I'm going to have the chance to come back. Furthermore, I really wish that I could just record everything to show you all. The motorcycles, motokarros, the little old men and women doubled over under the weight of a huge bushel of plantains, the river traffic, the smells at the various ports, the dogs in the streets, the unpaved roads, the full-serve gas stations, the kittens in our kitchen, even our kitchen and how it has no walls and you have to be careful not to fall in the river. This place drives me absolutely nuts and yet I am madly in love with it. I notice all these little details every day, and I want to bottle them and remember them forever: funny accents, weird hats, crazy markets, ugly mannequins in the stores, rainstorms, sunny days, ceviche, aguajes, coconuts... I'm really thrilled that this trip is going so well, so that I can have something to really look forward to the next time around.

I had a really interesting interview yesterday with a sound guy from Dinamita, another group here in town. He really made me feel great about my project, because he confirmed a lot of theories that I have about music processes here in Iquitos, and it was nice to know that I'm on the right track. Plus he was just fun to talk to. Hooray!

Here's a picture of me and the girls on New Years - Cindy, Zeudy, Wendy, and yours truly. We had a ball - the reunion tour as it were.

Happy New Year, everyone! This year is going to be wonderful!

Old Fashioned Fun

2007-12-26T15:35:00.000-05:00

This is just a beautiful picture of a jungle sky.

Fun Fact No. 4a: Blonde isn't just blonde. You often see little kids around here that have kind of orangey-blonde hair. No, their mothers didn't have a fling with the crazy gringo tourist. It's actually malnutrition.

Well, this Christmas holiday was just good old fashioned fun. After a yummy turkey dinner with not just the whole family, but also with all the boys that work in the lumber yard, all the extended relatives from upriver, plus all kinds of stragglers and the gringa, we toasted with champagne at midnight on the 24th and rang in Christmas by going to other people's houses to visit them. It was great fun. We ended up at this lovely bar that our friend Wendy is in charge of while the owner is out of town. It's called La Taberna del Cauchero and it's really stunning - 20 foot high ceilings, handcrafted chairs and tables, floor to ceiling windows with a great view of the Amazon river, and a great sound system. We just chatted with old friends, danced a bit, and went home. Pretty chill.

The next day (Christmas Day officially), we piled in (and I'm talking PILED IN) the truck and took to the road. We headed out to a bridge over the Itaya river where there's a beach (well, kind of. The rivers are swelling right now with all the rain from upriver), volleyball courts, soccer fields, and lots of people selling food. We played volleyball (and I didn't completely suck. Only mostly sucked!) and swam in the ice cold river and ate tacacho (plantain balls - one of my favorites!) and drank soda and shot the bull.

On the way home, we could see the rain about one or two kilometers away. It's funny how it works here. Super sunny where we were but you could see the wall of rain down the road. It's like someone did a PeeWee's Adventure move and brought out a fake curtain with a rainy landscape painted on it. It can be that dramatic. We got the three smallest kids in front and tried to fashion umbrellas out of cardboard boxes that we had been sitting on. When we got to the rain it just gushed down, but it was neat because then you could see the sun on the other side. It's kind of Charlie Brown in style - the one raincloud over just the one person.

We got home a bit soggy and cold, so I went out with my goddaughter, Silvia, to eat hot soup. We were going to have this yummy ginger soup at a Chinese joint down the road, but there is construction on that road so there were lots of little stands selling gallina regional soup. Gallina regional is regional chicken, which means that it was grown in someone's backyard instead of in a huge pen with other chickens. It's got especially tender meat and the soup is made with a TON of cilantro, lime, aji (spicy pepper), and noodles. It's just heavenly on a cold evening. Then we rented "High School Musical" and watched it until we fell asleep. And when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, this is what I encountered:

Ojona the cat nestled up with a bunch of beer bottles. Ha!

This sign made me laugh. For those of you who read Spanish, you'll get it right away. For those of you who don't, well, beer in Spanish is cerveza. C-E-R-V-E-R-Z-A. I'm just saying.

Food today:
breakfast: pb & j (I needed something normal)
lunch: ceviche
dinner: (still) leftover turkey.

Food yesterday:
breakfast: nothing
lunch: grilled fish, tacacho, Inca Cola
dinner: gallina regional soup

Get in the Spirit!

2007-12-24T09:02:00.000-05:00

Fun Fact No. 3a: Tickets please! To get into a wedding, graduation party, or other private, organized event, you have to bring your entrance, food, and drink tickets. Without them you can´t get in, eat or drink. I guess enough people tried to scam brides and grooms so that this became a necessity. Ha!

Well, it´s Christmas Eve, which is basically Christmas day in the sense that it´s the Big Day. Tonight there´ll be a big ole family dinner, followed by toasting the holiday with champagne, followed by dancing all night long. I had a blast last year, and I hope to have a blast this year. Although this trip is going very well, I am very happy and getting a lot of work done, next Christmas I really want to spend with my Dad and brother. It´s terrific to be here with friends and Peruvian family, but I miss having Christmas in my country, with our Christmas carols, Christmas dinner (usually a Honey Baked ham in my family), and the Macy´s parade. Nonetheless, I am excited for this evening´s activities!

I am budgeting my time very well this time, and I´m getting a lot of work done and am still able to see friends. It helps that my friend Monica left me the keys to her apartment and I have a quiet place to go to do work, take a nap, or read. It´s a hip apartment in a quiet neighborhood, and the neighbors, Jorge from Cuba and Pancho from Lima are super sweet and they bring me whatever they´re cooking (and luckily, the Cuban is the primary cook in the household. Mmmmmm!!).

The best news is that my running is going well. Running really keeps me sane, and I think part of the reason last year was so tough was because I wasn´t running. I ran 17 miles yesterday (whew!) and I had a great run. It was really fantastic, even when I was hurting. There´s a nice, 25-meter pool really close to my house, so I went for a swim this morning to crosstrain and use those muscles that stiffened up so much last night in my sleep. But I feel really great. And it´s so nice to be in the sunshine! I´m putting on sunscreen often, and am only lightly tanned for the time being, but it does feel great to be in the sun sun sun!

Yesterday there was a chocolatada in my house. Nearly 100 kids and their moms showed up to be entertained by a (creepy) clown, (really loud) music, and hot chocolate. It was a warm, sunny day yesterday, so the hot chocolate was kind of weird, but it was good fun anyway.

In the meantime, happy holidays to all of you. Thank you for your continued support and love. I love you and miss you all very much.

Love,
Sparky.

Pizza face no more

2007-12-19T17:12:00.000-05:00

Fun Fact No. 2a: Aguajes everywhere! A palm fruit only found in and around Iquitos, the famous aguaje, is small and covered in little tiny brown scales. You kind of rip the scales off with your teeth and then spit them out. There´s a fine layer of bright orange flesh around a big pit. It has a really distinct flavor that you either love or hate. And the pits are everywhere; I was hit by one on my motorcycle today.

When I got back to Austin in August, my skin broke out. Almost 30 and pizza face. Genevieve and I have the same problem, and we’re not sure why. It’s a crazy phenomenon. I’ve been in Peru for a mere three days and my skin is better than ever. Humidity? Sun? Motorcycle pollution? Who knows? But my zits have disappeared and my skin looks fantastic. And my hair isn’t doing too badly either! Maybe it’s the water. Hmmm…

My motorcycle is in the shop (working on finding that third gear) and I’ve been at Monica’s where it’s quiet and breezy, working on my chapter. Since my motorcycle isn’t up to par, I figured I should get some real work done anyway.

I went for my second run in Peru today. I went to the stadium where they have a track and I did my speed workout. It sucked. Let me just tell you, ick! The sun comes up so damn early here, and even though I was on the track at 6am, I was already roasticating. Stupid equator! Just kidding! I think this will definitely help me for the marathon.

Life in Iquitos is so far rather uneventful. And that’s the way we like it!

December 18

2007-12-19T17:07:00.000-05:00

Well, it was tough. Seeing Victor’s family. His younger sister, Patricia, and his mom, Tania, are still just destroyed. When I saw Tania, she was silently crying as she sewed a dress for a neighbor. They spent all their savings on the funeral and now she has to work three times as much: giving pedagogy lectures at various conferences, teaching primary school, and sewing. Patri is only 15 and she took a part time job that she rushes off to after school. Victor’s 19^th birthday would have been this coming Saturday, so we’re having a picnic lunch at the cemetery. A strange thing to do, but it’s kind of celebratory. He loved ceviche, but it’s a bit pricy to pull off, so we’re doing a bbq instead. It should be interesting. Anyway, I talked to Patri and she said he left no note, he didn’t seem depressed, worried, anxious or anything. I have a friend who is a computer nerd, so we’re going to see if we can get him to hack Victor’s email to see if there might be some indication there. It’s just so senseless. And his mom is just a wreck. She isn’t your typical Amazonian mom. Most get pregnant really early and are young and kind of hands-off. This woman had her kids at 40 and 43 and is a respected pedagogue in the region. She’s really fantastic.

Victor had my motorcycle and it’s not in too bad a shape. It doesn’t seem to have third gear (boo hiss), but who needs third gear, right? Just kidding, I’m getting it fixed tomorrow. I forgot about the sun; I got a bit burned today, but then I went straight home for the waterproof, super expensive Burt’s Bees sunscreen I brought with me. I’m good and lathered up now.

Last night I had dinner with my dear friend Monica. She heads back to Spain for a few months on Thursday and it’s killing me! Every once and a while you meet someone with whom you have instant chemistry and it’s as if you’ve known each other for years. Monica is one of those people and how I missed her! We could have easily chatted way into the wee hours of the morning, but I had to run, so off to bed at 11pm.

Speaking of bed, look who visited me last night:

So disgusting. I’m not normally afraid of bugs, but you could HEAR this spider walking around. You’re not supposed to hear spiders. Ick.

I went for my first run in Peru this morning. From my house to the stadium, three times around the stadium, and back. About 4.5 miles. Man alive that cement does a number on my joints! Luckily tomorrow is a speed work out and it only costs about twenty cents to enter the stadium and use the fancy, squishy track.

Today’s meals:

Breakfast: papaya & strawberry smoothie. Not enough; I was famished until lunch.

Lunch: ceviche!!!!!!!!

Dinner: a fried egg and bread.

Teenage Suicide

2007-12-17T16:17:00.000-05:00

Fun Fact No. 1a: Gut while you wait. Depending on how you're planning to cook your fish or turtle or caiman or whatever, they'll clean it and gut it. If you're making stew, it's cleaned one way. If you're frying it, it's cleaned another way. Etc.

Well, folks, I got into Iquitos last night at 10pm. I was supposed to get in at 7:25pm, but there was some crazy thunderstorm that dropped 12 inches/hour and so the flight was a bit delayed. I hung out with/took care of a little old lady named Laura who has Alzheimer's, most likely early stages. It was a bit weird but she was sweet so it didn't matter. I can't believe someone let her fly by herself - not only is she just OLD and can't walk very well, but we kind of adopted each other. Here's a brief transcription (and translation) of our nearly three hour conversation:

L: Hello, miss. What's your name?

K: My name is Kathryn, Laura.

L: Where are you from? I live on Jose Calvo Street, near Moore Avenue. I'm kind of forgetful (olvidona).

K: I'm from the US. And I live in Morona Cocha when I'm in Iquitos.

L: Morona? That is a lovely lagoon. What's your name?

K: My name is Kathryn.

L: Where are you from? I live on Jose Calvo Street, near Moore. I'm kind of forgetful.

And so forth. It made me a little sad for her, and it was tough to stay patient. But she was very sweet, and would occasionally offer or ask for other kinds of information. Like sometimes she sells papayas in the market in Iquitos. And that her husband died a few years ago and she likes being a single gal again. And that her son was going to pick her up from the airport. And pick her up he did, although he looked about her same age.

And so I got in, grabbed a mototaxi to my family's house in Morona, and surprised Mario Sr., the dad of the family. He had no idea I was coming, and we had a great time just chatting and hugging. We have a really great relationship, and it was great to just be with him with nobody else around. Eventually Mario Jr. and his girlfriend Veronica came in to say hi, but by then I was beat and hit the sack.

Today I went to market with Veronica Meder, Mario's younger sister, and her boyfriend Jean Carlos. I forgot about the hustle and bustle of this market, and I often wonder: how is it that with approximately 1,000 stands selling the same fish / vegetables / toothbrushes / alligator or whatever that people can end up feeding their families? And how is it that the competition works? I'm learning quite a bit about capitalism as a new idea / ideology / practice here in Iquitos, but some days it hits me more than others. These people wouldn't stand a chance in Austin. It's pretty amazing. I had ponche, egg whites whipped with vanilla and a little cream and topped off with boiling masaato, fermented yuca beer. It's so SO filling (and rather sinful) but delicious.

And now to the slightly depressing observation of the day: death is everywhere and no one's sensitive to it. I think it's cultural, probably because they're so darned used to it, but I still can't get used to it. Everyone knows that I left my motorcycle with my friend Victor who killed himself in October. And this is their response / interaction / commentary to me:

a. Dude, I heard that guy you gave your moto to offed himself. I think he was gay.
b. So did you ever find out why Victor killed himself? Did he leave a note?
c. Did you know that Victor hung himself? Weird, huh.
d. People are always killing themselves these days. So what are you going to do with the moto?

Just not exactly what I would say (or have ever said) about someone's recently deceased friend. Tact and sensitivity are of the utmost importance in the US about these things, and these are not things you just say. But I guess in some ways it's OK; death is normal, a part of life, and it happens all the time. Suicides are far too common and no one can be in the head of the person who's committed suicide, so who are we to judge? I'm definitely thinking too much because I'm reading Murakami, and he definitely messes with your head. Regardless, it's kind of scary to figure out how I should react to these comments. So strange. And I haven't been able to track down Victor's mom and sister yet, so it makes it even more strange.

Other than that bit of weirdness, I still feel good about being here. I feel refreshed and ready to conquer my challenges. I go for my first run in Peru tomorrow, and I'm excited about it. I see Monica tonight (can't WAIT!) and I saw Cesar and Graciela yesterday in Lima. I had fun with Lissette's family and now I'll have fun with my Iquitos family. I'll upload some pictures soon! In the meantime, see you soon.

Oh, and I'll end every post with a food journal so you can see what I eat!
Today:
breakfast - fried chicken, bread, watered down coffee out of the can
lunch - majas soup (jungle rat); duck and yellow rice (usually at lunch there is entrada, or the first course, and then segunda, the main course)
dinner - hasn't happened yet, but I'll order ravioli from the pizza joint Monica and I are going to tonight.

Milky Way & iPods

2007-12-15T15:05:00.000-05:00

Well folks, I made it. After a rather short trip (it felt like anyway!), I am here in sunny Lima, Peru where summer is just getting started. It has been a wonderful trip so far, and I have been here for less than 24 hours! Here´s the lo-down:

I was horribly anxious the past few days, getting ready for the trip and nervous about being in Peru again. This past year held so SO many ups and downs that I really had a hard time reconciling a return trip so soon after I left. But there are some things I need to take care of regarding research, dissertation, friends, motorcycles, and life. I am still a little nervous about actually getting to Iquitos, mostly because the reality of Victor´s death will most likely hit hard, and that is kind of scary. Anyway, thanks to dear, dear friends (Karla, K.C., Genevieve, April!), I got everything packed, organized and out the door.

But I haven´t even begun at the beginning! Yesterday morning I woke up at 5:30am not to catch a plane, but to run 14 miles. I ran the first four with Karla and April, the next three with just April, and the last seven with the light drizzle that actually made for a delightful run. You would think running 14 miles and then getting on a few airplanes for 8 hours wouldn´t be a great idea, but actually it was JUST what the doctor ordered. The run was wonderful, then I made French toast with April, baked some pound cake, and headed off to the airport. My check-in went relatively smoothly (although I had to leave behind Christmas Crackers and some sidewalk chalk to lighten the load), and off to Houston.

In Houston I had a delicious sundried tomato pesto pasta salad (note: back in the day, airports only offered nasty Chinese or greasy fried chicken. This is truly and improvement) and then off to Lima. The flight was great: I read an entire book, watched the movie Hairspray, and caught up with the latest Harper´s.

I got to Lima early (at about 11:15pm) where my friend Lissette´s parents were waiting for me. We cruised home, shot the bull, and went to bed. I slept for nine hours without waking up, dreams, nightmares, having to pee, NOTHIN´! I slept better than I´ve slept for some time.

Today I woke up, had fresh-squeezed papaya juice and hung out with Wilder & Wilder, Lissette´s dad and brother. We went to eat lunch at a delicious seafood joint where I ate (surprise surprise) ceviche! Yum. Then I called a few friends and later this afternoon I´m having coffee with my friend (and potential dissertation committee member), Raul.

A few observations about this trip so far:
1. At the Houston airport, there were Apple snack machines. Seriously. Swipe your credit card, punch in the right number, the coil moves, an iPod drops down. I stood in front of the machine for about 15 minutes, partially in awe, partially in disgust. I couldn´t figure out what I should feel; right next to it was a real snack machine with Milky Way & Reeses.

2. Arriving here, it felt like I never left. Really! I felt comfortable and good, and that was a relief. I know now that this is meant to be- I´m meant to be in Peru so soon after I left. Also, I feel confident about myself, my non-Peruvianness, and my Peruvianness. I grew and changed quite a bit when I was here, and it was a hard road. But now I want to own it; I don´t want Peru to get the best of me. I want to give of myself only on MY terms and I feel good about that. I am happy, comfortable, and confident.

3. I feel like this whole task (dissertating, researching, travelling, running, visiting) is just less daunting. I feel less overwhelmed than I did even yesterday morning. I really feel like I can do it all, do it all well, and be proud of what I will have accomplished.

4. I almost cried on the way over because of something weird and kind of lame: I love running. I am convinced that I had such an uneventful, comfortable trip because I had a nice, long run before I got on the plane. I am so, SO privileged to have found such an embracing, engaging sport and to be able to call myself a runner! Michael once said that we are endurance athletes. I totally laughed him off saying that I´m just a slow runner. Now I get it! Hooray and thanks be to God for Running and Good Friends!

I´ll keep you posted as the days wear on. Wish me well!

"May-waj ees wat bwings us togethawww too dei"

2007-12-10T10:31:00.000-05:00

Yes, that's a Princess Bride quote. And no, I'm not getting married. And yes, I still have this issue that comes with a United Statesish marriage that I can't reconcile: the last name. I wish I could just get over it, let people do their thing, respect it and move on. But no! I continue to flinch, cringe, and generally pull out my hair (!) at the prospect of the consideration of a name change. Women changing their names back in the day happened because they were effectively sold (or bribed) into marriage; they became their husband's property and had to adopt the symbol of his identity. In Quebec, it's illegal for people to change their names when they marry in order to support gender equality. In most of Latin America and parts of Europe, no one changes their names when they get married, and their kids get one last name from each parent (and official forms allow for that). These days you can pick which last name to pass on and its order (which one comes first). In California, a man sued the state for gender discrimination because the process for him to change his last name to his wife's was so complicated and difficult. He won. But there are only seven states where both partners can legally change their last names when they marry without financial repercussions.

If I ever get married, I will be considered an "mature" bride: I'll be well into my thirties (or beyond), and I will have spent a good chunk of my life as Kathryn Metz. Change my name? Perhaps to include my mom's last name (Ledoux) in the whole shebang. Maybe if I go into the Witness Protection Program. Or if I become a rockstar (Kathryn Metz doesn't really work. I need something like Axl Rose. Well, not that same one, but you get my gist.). Point being, I yam what I yam.

But why can't I just respect women's decisions to change their last names? I wish I could just let it go but it really angers me. I understand a couple wanting unity, but how about a combination of both names (creating a new one from the two, or hyphenating or just both adding the other person's name to theirs)? Or a new name altogether? The New York Times has an interesting discussion of the whole situation here.

I just get so frustrated - especially by college-educated women - when women even consider the name change. Whether you have an attachment to your name (perhaps because of heritage or cultural reasons) or not (maybe you don't know where your name comes from or don't care), it seems silly to take a man's name just because that's what's been done. I am my own person, my own woman, my own Kathryn Metz and I just don't see the sense in becoming someone else.

HOWEVER I am trying (learning!) to be more OK with this regular occurrence. And for the record, several of my progressive, liberal, feminist girlfriends have taken their husband's last names, so obviously I have to be OK with it. And I'm getting there. Little by little. Grrrrr....

5 days & counting

2007-12-09T23:52:00.001-05:00

So...Peru again. I leave on Friday for a month and I've already been having anxiety dreams.

This time I vow
1. to appropriately budget my time
2. to train religiously for the marathon, even mid-jungle city
3. to only spend time with people who love me and will not abuse my friendship
4. to drink lots of water & stay hydrated
5. to stay focused.

Holiday Spirit

2007-12-07T10:20:00.000-05:00

So last night, I had a lovely dinner with my girls, the primary motivation being the despedida of our dear friend K.C. who is moving to Houston. I still get together every year with my old roommates and best girlfriends from college, and we had our last reunion on my birthday weekend. I have another set of non-roommates but best girlfriends from graduate school, and honestly, that chemistry is rare: when four or five people get along so well with each other that they can talk for hours and hours and never bore.

I am fortunate enough to be part of two such groups. The first is my 702 girls from Bowling Greenn. We lived together in some combination at 702 E. Wooster Street for several years. We all knew each other independently of the house (from the dorms, or the music building, the art building, or whathaveyou), but we all got along (and still do, nearly ten years later) just wonderfully and we are each other's support network: through family deaths, miscarriages, marriages, break-ups, children, new homes, old homes...the whole nine yards.

My Austin ladies are women with whom I trained for the Chicago Marathon. We also knew each other independently (through the music building, through other friends or whathaveyou) but we are also each other's support network just two years later: through family deaths (still), break-ups, new boyfriends, new homes, old homes, etc.

Women need each other. I don't mean to be the sexist feminist whatever, but it's true: we need the support and love and nurturing that only we can give. It's not to say that there aren't loving, tender, supporting, nurturing men out there, but it's just not the same. It's actually encoded in our DNA in ways that it isn't in men. And thank goodness that I have these women, especially during the holiday season, which I love, but it really sucks without my mom.

29 and 2/365ths

2007-11-20T09:13:00.000-05:00

Well, it has come and gone: another birthday, another birthday weekend (I have a knack for extending the birthday celebrations for a long time), and another crisis. Although I must admit that the actual age-turning was rather anti-climactic. I remember having a tough time with 27. And then 28 didn't really count because it was in another language (and veinte-ocho doesn't have the same ring as twenty-eight). And so I was kind of expecting a WHOA! 29! But really it hasn't impacted me at all. Maybe I was ready for it? I am looking forward to 30 because the 20s have been generally rough. The only really good ones were 20, 21, 24, and 25. The rest were just hard. But here we go anyway!

I had a wonderful weekend in Columbus. I got to blow glass with Kami, talk for hours with Allison, Erica, Arlie, and Anne, drink wine with Jody and Jaye, eat with my brother and my dad and Joan, and be in cold weather and not die. (Cold weather doesn't help my Reynaud's...bad circulation in my hands and feet. It hurts a lot.) And I partook in several of these activities with several people...the wine was not only with Jody, and the talking was not just with the 702 girls (we all lived together at 702 E. Wooster back in Bowling Green). It was just wonderful.

And then I got back to Austin (and to this glorious weather, thank goodness!) where I had a lovely birthday dinner with Genevieve, Sonia, Karla, and Anita followed by lots of cake and beer with just about everyone. It was a terrific time. I really enjoyed myself. I felt really loved. And I know that I am!

Perfectionism

2007-11-13T12:17:00.000-05:00

So here I am, head to head with perfectionism once again. This is everyone's struggle (well, for sure anyone who is in the remarkably self-esteem debilitating field of academia) and it is taking its toll. I just need to suck it up and WRITE.

Yesterday would have been my mom's 60th birthday (happy b-day, ma!) and I wonder what we would have done. Probably a nice dinner and a yummy, quadruple chocolate cake with her best friend, my brother, and me and maybe the neighbors, too. Genevieve asked if I would have gone up there, but I don't think I would be down here if she were still here. Kind of like choose-your-own-adventure, who know what could have or should have or would have happened.

And I'm almost the big 2-9. Not quite 30, but closer than ever. I finally feel about 23 or so, which is a big leap from my oft felt 17. And everyone's married with kids... As Michael said when I told him I would be getting a cell phone (one of these days soon!), "Satan? Yes, you might want to turn the thermostat up a bit. It'll be freezing over pretty soon down there."

Anyway, I'm getting ready for Peru (mentally more than anything), getting ready for my birthday (emotionally), getting ready for Columbus on Thursday (in every way), getting ready for a fellowship app (academically), and getting ready to finish out another Tuesday. Hooray for Tuesdays! Every week there's a new one and it's hopefully better than the last. I'm the world's worst philosopher.

And here's Sparky: (I decided to quit fighting it and let the Curly Sue take over)

Ticket to Ride

2007-11-04T23:15:00.000-05:00

So I just bought my ticket to go back to Iquitos for a whopping 31 days. From December 15 to January 14, I'll be kicking it in my old territory and here are some fears / reservations I have about this trip.
1. That there will be drama. All the drama from this past year is enough to make me never want drama again in my life. I don't want to deal with any of that crap. I prefer the non-dramatic way of life.

2. That I won't get enough dissertation work done. It's so hard to get stuff done there in general, let alone sitting down in a quiet place to get actual work done.

3. That I won't get the follow-up research done to the degree I need it to be done.

4. That I'll be overwhelmed by sadness at being in Iquitos without Victor (a good friend who recently committed suicide). I just can't imagine life there without him - we spoke nearly every day for half a year.

5. That I'll get overwhelmed by constant performing - there are some weddings, a few holiday concerts, and a mass or two that I'll surely have to play, taking more time from work. But I do have to spend time with friends, right?

And some things that excite me about this coming trip:
1. That I will have learned to say no to drama.

2. That I'll get some great research in.

3. To see my wonderful people there!

4. My motorcycle. Period.

5. To play with Explosion again. Woo-hoo!

So here we go again. This is a very finite trip - just a month. The whole thing will fly by so quickly, and who knows when I'll get another chance to get down there, so I need to take advantage of it! Here we go again!

Fall Friends

2007-11-03T09:45:00.000-04:00

Well, the stress level as of late has been rather elevated. First it was preparing everything in preparation for the conference (getting schoolwork finished and out of the way, etc.), then it was the actual conference (mentally and physically exhausting), then it was a visit from my good friend Iñaki from Spain (stressful only in that it was back-to-back with the conference), and now a long Saturday at the Paper Place (did you know that it's Christmas already?), followed by maybe some dissertation writing (which I haven't done in over a week and a half). So a bit stressed out. But I did hot yoga last night with my friend Karla, and that felt great (especially since part of my stress has come from the fact that I haven't been able to run in two weeks due to a stressed IT band in my hip). I HATE not being able to run. It really kills me.

Columbus was great, although exhausting, for a few reasons. The biggest one was that I got to see the following wonderful people:
My dad
My brother
Erika, my brother's girlfriend
My best friend, Allison and her little boy Lucas
My dear friend Erica and her little girl Giovanna
Dan Sharp
Emily Pinkerton
The Clan from BGSU (including Mary Natvig and Carol Hess)

It was such a joy to see all of them. I was invigorated by encouraging friendships. And equally invigorating was the crisp, fall weather that yielded photos like this one:

And, of course, Halloween. This year's was especially great because I wasn't here last year for Halloween and also my good friend Inaki was here. We had lots of fun!

Home-ish

2007-10-21T20:09:00.000-04:00

So the Society for Ethnomusicology conference is in Columbus, Ohio this year and I'm going. I'm not presenting a paper this year (thank goodness!) but I'm excited to see "conference friends" who I only see at these things, listen to new papers, network a bit, look for jobs (!) and perhaps most important and exciting, see my dad, brother, and best friend. I have been excited about this trip for a while, and it's about to happen (I leave on Wednesday). I miss my dad and brother a lot and I'm not sure why. Of course I love them, but honestly, I see them a few times a year and that's usually good enough for me. But I always see them in Texas; I rarely go to Ohio because of money, time, and taste (I prefer Austin). Columbus is perhaps the closest thing to a hometown that I have, even though I've only lived there for a cumulative three years. But still. It's a hip, artsy town with nice people, smaller cars than Texas, and (getting) good food. It's pretty. And my dad lives there, and I'm really just thrilled to see him. It's scary when a parent grows older, and to watch him change makes me nervous. And maybe I'm more neurotic about it than most because I'm already one parent down (my mom died in May of 2001), but I really want to treasure this time with my dad: we're both adults, we have similar interests but we're different enough that we're learning a lot about each other and we're both coming to terms with the other person (as in, we're no longer trying to change each other; we are who we are). I think this is a big step in a family relationship and since my family is just my Dad and my brother (I have a great uncle who I see every couple of years and then there's my mom's brother and sister, but they're not nice and I haven't seen them in who knows how long). So here's hoping for a fun (and productive) trip!

Natural Disasters

2007-10-18T23:07:00.000-04:00

So as a kid, I always thought, well, if there's a place in the world where there aren't any natural disasters, I should move there and then there will be no threat of tsunami, tornadoes, or whatever. When we lived in New Orleans, there were floods. In California, there were regular earthquakes. In Minnesota, tornadoes. In Rhode Island, hurricanes. Chicago and Ohio, tornadoes. In Texas...well, there are floods, droughts, and tornadoes, not to mention coastal areas plagued by hurricanes. In coastal Peru there are earthquakes, in the Amazon there is the occasional drought. Safe? Well, you're never really safe. But I always used to think you could escape it. I also thought that the word approximate meant exact. So I guess you live and learn.

On another note, if you want to be kind of creeped out, watch the claymation movie The Adventures of Mark Twain. I watched it when I was a kid and it was pretty scary. I watched some clips on youtube today. It's still scary. And according to the IMDB, was banned from television in 1985.

Another delightfully creepy childhood film is Watcher in the Woods, actually a Disney movie, but pretty scary.

Slated for Destruction

2007-10-15T21:11:00.001-04:00

Well, folks, this is my delayed post in honor of Blog Action Day, wherein bloggers are encouraged to somehow address a particular theme. This year's theme is the environment, and what a difficult theme to write about! Whenever I start thinking about the environment, my mind immediately goes to destruction and strife, melted ice caps, depleting fresh water sources, exploited lands and indigenous peoples, petroleum extraction, blah blah blah. So for today's blog, while titled Slated for Destruction, I don't want to belabor the obvious, that 98% of the Peruvian Amazon is slated for petroleum extraction, including the largest national reserve in Peru. Instead, I'd like to take a moment to praise efforts being made to limit this fact by good friends of mine involved in good projects in Iquitos.

My old roommate Cesar Gil works for the World Wildlife Fund, where he heads the Indigenous Education committee. Cesar develops curriculum designed to raise awareness among indigenous children who live in the Pacaya Samiria Reserve and how they can best manage their resources and keep poachers, petroleum companies, and loggers away from their land. It's a roots project that has impressive, longterm goals and its focus - young children - is truly the best way to truly make changes.

My dear friend Monica Hernandez works for a Spanish cooperative as a forestry engineer. She, too, works with indigenous communities in the Pacaya Samiria Reserve where she helps them realize their own longterm goals from sustenance farming to reforestation.

Sandrine Forzy is a French political scientist who is bringing the possibility of fair trade to indigenous communities in the Reserve, so that they might be less dependent on unfair, commercial offers from outside, capitalist forces to which they are largely unaccustomed.

Graciela Blanco operates a planned parenthood / sex education program in the reserve in order to increase the quality of life of those who live in the reserve and also to help cut down populations that are putting pressure on their environment.

Mario Meder Seretti owns a lumber yard, but he has recently made the conscious (and financially difficult) decision to not purchase endangered hardwoods, and to deal only with sellers who are from heavily forested, secondary-growth areas, so as to not endanger primary growth forest.

You'll notice that a good number of these good deeds are directed toward people and there is good reason for that. If you can change the way people think from an early age (imagine what would have happened if someone had gotten a hold of the Bush babies when they were only five years old), you can change the world. I was raised to recycle. It sounds silly, but I have a horrible pang of guilt any time I use Styrofoam, or any time I throw away something recyclable. I have friends who were not raised like me and don't understand the importance of small actions. I am grateful to my parents for having instilled in me a reverent respect for the earth, shown to me through behaviors, canoe trips, bird books, and gardens.

Anyway, despite the fact that the Amazon is slated for destruction (I was really just trying to get your attention), there is hope.

Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner

2007-10-12T12:33:00.000-04:00

So my good friend Michael gave me a collection of short stories by Alan Sillitoe for Christmas a few years ago and what a treat it was. It's called The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner and it's title story is nonchalant, narrated by a juvenile delinquent who recognizes how fortunate he is to be able to run every day as part of his schooling in a crappy JD facility. And the most perfect quote....

"It's a treat, being a long-distance runner, out in the world by yourself with not a soul to make you bad-tempered or to tell you what to do."

It's really true. While I suffer from perfectionism in most areas of my life, which in turn cause anxiety, stress, or exhaustion, running isn't one of them. Running is the only place where my biggest competitor is myself, I'm not proving anything to anyone, I don't have to do it if I don't want to, it's not a requirement and I certainly don't have to write a dissertation about it or because of it or in order to do it. I run because I love the mental challenge. I run because I love how I feel after a long run, tired, with nothing physical to show for it but a few aches, but knowing I ran 8 miles today. Physically, most peope could be runners. Maybe not marathon runners, but they could be runners. Mentally, I think that few could. It's tough to convince your body that it should and will finish this run. To convince your lungs that they'll get a change to breathe at the end of this one. To convince the jelly that your legs have become that they'll get a chance to just walk if they just hang in there a little bit longer.

I was a glassblower, an artist. I am striving to be an ethnomusicologist and a scholar and a teacher. I have always been a decent / good student. But in all these areas, there is pressure to do better, publish more, get a better grade, be more creative. In running, there is no pressure at all. I just want to start and to finish, nothing more, nothing less.

And so here's a lovely portrait that my very talented photographer friend, Rhonda Turnbough (www.rhondaturnbough.com) took of my very talented cellist and running friend, Karla Hamelin (soon to have www.karlahamelin.com) with me and my very talented songwriter, cellist, and marketing genius friend, Genevieve Frisch. In dedication to long-distance running and what a joy it is. I am grateful to be a long-distance runner!

www.rhondaturnbough.com

One Page at a Time

2007-10-08T21:21:00.000-04:00

So I am in the boat that many before me have sailed, and many after me will sail. And there are also those who have walked the plank or dived off the side, or just plain drowned. I will not be one of them; I will sail the turbulent high seas until I reach land or at least an island, even if it is a swampy, acidic one a la The Life of Pi. I figure if I get to Manhatten, I'll be golden and if I get to, say, Delaware or some such place, I can live with that. All this mumbo jumbo is, of course, my dissertation analogy. It's a big boat with few crew members, but so far, it's just cloudy weather. And by the way, in case you are wondering, I really am this dorky in real life. Yup, this ole land lubber (whose shoulders are too narrow to be a competitive back or breaststroker) is undertaking the possible yet very difficult. And she's going to do it!

My good friend Karla is requiring of me one page a day. Be it notes, actual chapter writing or whathaveyou, I must turn in one page per day to Karla via email, although I am exempt from Saturdays because on Saturdays, I am in a special kind of liminal place aka purgatory. Ok, it's just retail, but really, same difference. I'm on a roll! So far, two pages. But I just got started, so I anticipate a large sheath by the end of the semester.

On another note, I've been dreaming of Peru. Iquitos, my motorcycle, my friend Victor, my family there, Monica...it's hard to not romanticize the whole thing and it's also hard not to just write it off as one big floppy learning experience. I miss it. I really do. And it's funny because I gave a little thing with Michael for colloquium this past Friday about field work. And someone asked, why Peru? Why this project? Why did you choose it? And it really hit me: it chose me. I don't think I would've stuck it all out, from the first jungle hells to the urban craziness if it weren't that Iquitos kept pulling me back to its snare. And yet - kind of like in that Almodovar film, Atame, deep down I have grown to love it, and I miss it a lot. I guess this is a partnership for a long time. There's no question that I love my project topic - who knew I'd become a cumbia junkie? Regardless, here we go! Here's hoping I don't get sick of it while writing my dissertation, and here's hoping I don't go into debt while charging the upcoming trip on the ole credit card! Cheers!

Victor

2007-09-26T17:38:00.001-04:00

This is my dear friend Victor Huertas in Iquitos. Victor killed himself two Sundays ago at home in Iquitos. Victor was one of my only actual friends in Iquitos - one of the only people who was eternally loyal, sweet, caring and loving. He's Jewish and had been preparing to go to Israel in December to take advantage of dual citizenship and free education. He was admitted to a prestigious literature program at the state school in Iquitos and is a terrific, outgoing student on student council with lots of friends. I met Victor under crazy circumstances: it was his step-dad who sold me my crappy motorcycle and it was he who sought me out to tell me the truth about what had happened and who eagerly volunteered to serve as my witness in my case against the jerk who took the commission, despite danger of being beaten up or blackmailed. He always sent me text messages telling me simply that he loved me and supported me and was glad to have met me. We had all kinds of adventures together and his sweet family, mom Tania and sister Patricia, always invited me to dinner or would just call to say hello. He was a dear friend who I didn't tell him enough how much I valued his friendship and how much I really loved him. And the worst part is: he was just a kid. 18 years old - he would be 19 in December. I left my motorcycle to him because I trusted him profoundly. And while I started off being devastated at the news of his death, now I'm pissed. I guess these are the steps. I've known people to kill themselves before, but never so dear a friend. I love him very much.

Resolutions

2007-09-24T22:13:00.000-04:00

So here I am in Austin, allegedly writing a dissertation at Flightpath, my favorite coffee shop in town. It’s quiet, well-lit, and has big tables. My loyal comps study buddy now turned dissertation writing buddy, Jen Smull, is sitting across from me typing diligently away while I add another blog to my desperately outdated e-journal that – as I look back on it – served as some sort of therapy throughout the last year or so, for which I am thankful.

I started writing up some notes for my dissertation and it became a rant, an angry, emotional rant about bad people in Iquitos, life goals, and what it might be like to live and teach in Minnesota, in the heart of that which I fear: COLD. I don’t like cold because I have circulation problems in my hands and my feet and the cold just bursts through my body and gets to my core and I can’t focus on anything else when I’m horridly cold. And then I started thinking that cold is kind of like anxiety for me. It comes out of nowhere and knocks me flat on my back. And I wallow in it instead of grabbing another scarf and heating up the tea kettle. I guess my analogy makes sense to me, and perhaps to few others, but as some of you here in Austin have come to know, I am profoundly changed. I am growing up and maturing (perhaps later than most, but better late than never. Take that, Peter Pan!) and learning about the many things that LIFE has to offer. My friendships are still profoundly deep but I am having a hard time reconciling the new Kathryn with the old one. As I begin (or pretend to begin) this new phase: the post-Peru, dissertation, new-Austin, old-friends, revised-life phase, I’m realizing a few things about myself that, be they new things or old, I want to change or keep in place. I feel like it’s New Year’s and I’m making my resolutions, even though I never make resolutions at New Year’s because I’m always afraid of the guilt that might come if I break them.

I vow to

1. be a better friend

2. not let stress dictate who I am

3. love myself and my body regardless

4. budget my time and allow myself free time

5. downsize: things, clutter, stress

This is my new resolution. I’m learning about mindfulness right now, and I hope that it makes a big difference in my life. I want to be aware of myself, my surroundings, my emotions, and my goals and expectations.

And while we’re on the subject, did I mention that I’m growing up? New mattress (yee-ha!), new line of credit, new shoes, new paint in my newly peaceful bedroom, and soon to have new car (soon!). I see my best girlfriends from college in the fall and I’m excited to be me with them in their space. It’s fun to grow up, even if it sucks and it’s hard. You live and learn, right?

On lighter notes, I went to Austin City Limits music festival a week ago with my friends Genevieve and Colin. That was truly wonderful and exciting. Plus I went to a taping of Austin City Limits (the PBS TV show)…Regina Spector. That was terrific – the best live music venue in Austin.

This past Friday I had one of the best days of my life! I woke up early and ran. Then I went to Portuguese class. Then I rode my bike down to Barton Springs where I swam in the crystal clear springs and nearly choked because I was laughing with absolute JOY. Then I had a margarita with Genevieve at Shady Grove. Then I rode my bike home and went to the movies with Colin and Michael. Then we got fancy pizza and shot the bull. Then I slept for 10 hours. It was an exciting, active, sunny, beautiful, happy day, and while it doesn’t seem like there was anything in particular that was out of the ordinary, I felt SO good and happy all day long. It was nice.