what is it that they say about the summertime blues, again?

During my undergraduate years at SIU, I was always told that Carbondale summers were/are "awesome." I spent my summers back home in the Chicago suburbs, though, so I could work full time, live rent-free, and make real money. And so this summer of '08 is the first summer I've spent in Carbondale, and I don't know if "awesome" is the word I'd use to describe it. We've had two really rad parties (if you weren't at both or either, you truly missed out), but besides that, it's been totally blah. I went to one of the Carbondale summer mainstays - the Sunset Concert - and mildly enjoyed myself. But now that I can't even afford a case of shitty canned beer, I can't very well go to one tonight. (Well, I suppose you could, but the draw of the said Sunset Concert is not the music, by any means - it is definitely the boozing.) I'm still totally broke and soooo looking forward to August 1st, which is so close, yet so far. I will have money in the bank, I will be moved into my amazing new place, and I will probably be a lot less crotchety. In fact, this summer is so boring and craptacular, that I'm actually looking forward to next week when I have to cover all Writing Center hours because my coworker will be out of town. That is pretty sad. Even sadder - I cleaned my bathroom for fun today. Granted, I am one of those who pathetically enjoys cleaning and finds it to be quite therapeutic, but still. I have to admit it was a last resort. It's just hard, because Mike and I are on totally different schedules, and he never wants to do anything later on in the evening (understandably) because he starts work at 4am each weekday. So, then I end up going to bed early, cos I figure, why not? And then I don't get anything done, and now I'm sleeping way too much.

But not everything has halted with the summer. I'm beginning to develop quite the workout regime. I'm sure all of you that know me have heard me praise the cult of Crossfit, which I try to do at least three to four times a week. And today, I even got up and ran at 8:30 am - only 2.25 miles, but considering I'll be doing Crossfit at 7pm, I think I'm doing pretty damn well. Since I've been going to bed earlier, I've been getting up around 7:30 every morning. I don't always do super-productive things, but I like being up for a few hours before I have to run out the door to work. I'm still plowing through the very dense Victorian ghost story collection, which is AWESOME. As tedious and soul-sucking my past summer office jobs were, the best part was being able to read copious amounts of books that I couldn't get my hands on during the school year. And I'm sure my best friend Jen can attest to the awesomeness that is/was the STC Public Library summer reading program... alright, once again, awesomeness may be a stretch, as the prizes were pretty paltry - but hey, it's better than not receiving an ice cream cone for reading a book or two.

I guess what I'm getting at here is that I'm tired of living so far away from the ones I love. I had to miss Corinne's baby shower because I had a pathetically low amount of funds in bank account, and I really, really wished I could have been there. I'm also nostalgic for more civilization and culture in general that the Chicago area affords. 

But until then, I will spend tomorrow, my day off from work, working on my tan and reading (for pleasure and for pain).

Why I Need an I-Pod, or the Horrors of Being Seated in Coach

After getting through a few more stories in Chicago Noir, I decided to put that down and start another (much more enticing) short story collection - The Oxford Book of Victorian Ghost Stories. So far, it's totally rad, and actually, kind of scary, although I found the Dickens short story in the collection to be a tad disappointing. I'm on the tenth out of thirty five stories so far. I thought about finishing Chicago Noir, as I don't like to leave books unfinished, but it's a short story collection and I thought I wouldn't really be missing much. Like I said earlier, there were a few interesting stories in the collection, but the most interesting (Claire Zulkey's "The Great Billik") could have been reworked for more success... at least from my humble, 'always the critic, never the writer' position. The narration in the story keeps us distanced as far as possible from the eerie happenings in the neighborhood. Maybe an omniscient narrator seemed boring or sensationalized to the author, but I would have liked to get a better glimpse into the fortune teller (the title character) and the actual events that allow the story to be classified into a noir collection. Boo. I also didn't enjoy the trite historical details awkwardly inserted into the story by Zulkey; for example, the inclusion of an unrelated trip to Detroit in which the women were exhilarated to attend a Detroit Tigers' game unescorted. Ok, I get it - it's the early 20th century and women's rights were limited. Gotcha. Thanks for proving to me that you stayed awake during your women's studies lecture in u-grad, Zulkey.

In other news, I learned the significance of $16 this weekend when I chose not to upgrade to business class for my trip home on Amtrak this past weekend. I endured a fitful sleep last night on our delayed train, waking up to conductors yelling at drunk morons for smoking in the bathrooms, obnoxious children, and other annoyances. I rue not paying the extra $16 that would have afforded me a much more comfortable seat and a secluded spot to sleep the miles away. I will return home this weekend to attend Corinne's baby shower, but this time, via auto. My first stop is Lincoln Park on Friday to visit Jen; I am even entertaining the thought of leaving Carbondale super early on Friday to be able to hit up North Beach around noon, and then picking up Jen from work around 5. We'll see what happens. I need a beach in my life, and that looks to be the only beach in my future.

Besides the means of travel, the weekend (ok, four full days plus parts of Wednesday and Monday) home was great and I'm really looking forward to graduating and being (physically) close to the people I love and care about again. One of the most entertaining events from the visit was martini night at Villa Verone with my mom and her girlfriends... wow. I guess I didn't realize that middle aged women like to dance to Justin Timberlake. And 50 Cent. Or talk about weird things from their past that I may not have wanted to know. But it was somewhat encouraging to see that fun doesn't have to die in your 20s, and that you can still look good and have fun with your girlfriends even when you're married and have children. I know that sounds so lame, but I worry that old age will suck and it's nice to see that a good portion of aging is optional. Granted, my mom is not like the mom from Mean Girls or anything; she doesn't have a boob job, try to act 'cool', or wear Juicy Couture sweatpants or anything horrifying like that. But she and all of her friends look good and it's nice to know that my future won't necessarily have to be depressing, drab, or flabby.

so viel Arme!

Those who have the privilege to know me well know that I do not deal well with being hungry. Call me high maintenance or borderline hypoglycemic, but I get a little ornery. Today, during my break at the Writing Center, I decided to head to the Student Center to procure some lunch. For some dimwitted reason, they closed the Subway, ruling out one of my choices. You see, I'm still dieting - or eating healthy, rather. So, I got in line for the delicious sandwich man, but I was about the eighth person in line, and the sandwich man has a tendency to take his time, to put it lightly. (And anyways, I'm sure the delicious sandwiches are loaded in calories and fat as well, as he spreads about a pound of butter on each). I then left said long line to go to McDonald's and order a Southwest Salad (only about 300 calories, and delicious), but they're out of them. The rest of their salads and dressings are loaded in calories and fat, and not nearly as tasty. The soup du jour at the Student Center looked unpromising, and everything else was rather unhealthy (Chinese food, the rest of the McDonald's menu, etc.)... so now I'm hungry. Mike won't deliver me food. Perhaps I should give him a break, as he works an average of 13 hours a day, but how many times did I serve as his personal delivery girl, bringing him all sorts of delicious lunches from Arby's and Subway? I rest my case.

(Although I swore I would mainly stick to discussing books on this here blog, I have obviously strayed a bit. I do not intend to swing back to the prescribed topic, but instead, continue the discussion of food.)

It's been difficult to diet, but I have lost a little weight, and would like to keep up my good habits. I really haven't been eating out that much, whereas before I was nearly dependent upon take-out. But one area I still need to work on is my cooking. I am a good cook when I have a recipe to follow and I buy my ingredients ahead of time with a careful plan. However, it is really difficult for me to look at a pantry full of food and throw something edible together. So, I end up spending way too much money on food to make trips to the store for random ingredients, and I end up with a pantry full of food with (seemingly) no foreseeable options. I guess I thought that this skills were somewhat inherent - like a lot of skills I thought would come with 'adulthood.' As if someone would come along and hand me my Adult Hat, and I would magically have the abilities to cook, balance a checkbook (still haven't mastered that - more on that in a bit), and make life decisions. But 23 years have passed and that Adult Hat has yet to make its way into my hands. And I still haven't gotten any goddamn lunch yet, either. But I have successfully manoeuvered my bills in order to coincide with my way, WAY late paycheck this summer. So I'm getting there. And I didn't even cry!

Back to the balancing of the checkbook. I was making a simple calculation in my head this morning, and I realized how ass-backwards wrong I was. I got an email from Heartland Blood Center, an organization that collects blood donations/hounds people like me with type O negative blood, offering a gift certificate for $11 to Oberweis Dairy for donating blood over the Fourth of July weekend. For those of you not from the western Chicago suburbs, Oberweis produces milk, ice cream, and other delicious (yet expensive) dairy products; they also run a chain of ice cream shops with treats costing more than minimum wage a pop. In any case, I was delighted to see the opportunity to get a gift certificate to the glorious ice cream shop, so I tried to calculate the days between my last blood donation and the upcoming weekend. It is recommended that a span of 56 days elapses before the next donation occurs, and I don't even know WHY I possibly thought it would be 56 days or more, as I last gave blood during a break at the Writing Center. Keep in mind, the Writing Center opened June 9th, which could be the earliest possible date for my last donation. As it is not even July 9th, there is no way that 30 days could have even passed, let alone 56. And I don't really know why I delineated this whole 'thinking' process... it just boggles my mind how ridiculous I can be. I never said logic and/or mathematics were my strong suits.

To round out the fat girl blog, I look forward to visiting home this weekend not only to see my family and friends, but to experience Chicago food once again - specifically, Portillo's. And for those of you who are not familiar with Portillo's, you are truly deprived. Yum.