we float through each other's lives

There's just... so much. So much to say. Where do I start?

I'm listening to this amazing song right now (Umbrellas, "Ships") and it's bringing tears to my eyes, it's so gorgeous. I heard it on my iPod shuffle this morning on the way to work, possibly for the first time, and I knew it must be from my tentative list of summer mix songs, and I was reminded, more importantly and more insistently, that there is music that I'm neglecting. a LOT of music. My concert-going tendencies have hesitantly made their way into a couple of conversations at Work Club, and I now realize that most people... don't really get into music the way I do. I guess law school might've/should've clued me in to this minor detail, to a certain extent. And it does take energy, a LOT of energy, to keep on top of new music. I get weary by the end of the day, and I'd rather watch Frasier or Friends reruns on the CW late night programming than dig through my file of new music (240 items strong, notwithstanding the 400+ music blog entries since a month ago that I've neglected. F*cking prolific Stereogum). And hey, did you know that the CW shows reruns of the Jeffersons at 2:30 am? I didn't, before last night, when I woke up at 2:30 and couldn't fall back asleep till 5:30. I will also say that Pan's Labyrinth is an amazing film, and you should all watch it if you haven't already (though preferably not at 3 am). Thank heavens my subletter netflix'ed it and erroneously sent it here rather than to her place, or I might never have gotten around to seeing it.

Anyway. I saw a Wilco concert on Monday night, and MAN, do they put on a good show. The best part was a macramé owl that came down from the rafters above the stage for one song (and one song only), and Jeff Tweedy told the crowd that they wanted a whole macramé menagerie, and that we should all send our macramé handiwork to "Wilco, Chicago," and in that moment, I understood why I've been having such a hard time with my mail forwarding--all that damn macramé clogging the system. Seriously, though--they are amazing musicians and I need their new album, like, now. And their live album, too.

What else... went to Six Flags New England last weekend, despite threat of foot amputation from drop rides (seriously, like, what?). Nothing more serious happened than a set of lost keys on a particularly twisty rollercoaster, but... yeah, it was still a set of lost keys, and we had to call a locksmith and everything. We also watched UHF and a ton of YouTube'd Family Guy and Office and SNL clips and played DDR and ate pizza and cookies and generally had a ton of fun. Yay weekend. Yay Six Flags. yay cookies.

Other than that, I just can't believe it's the last week of June. Where has the time gone? I remember when I worked in between college and law school, how quickly weekends snuck by, and how fast the years spun past. I get that sense again. People are already rotating departments, or leaving for other firms, and I still really feel like I just got here. I mean, I've only done laundry here twice! (Granted, I may have more pairs of underwear and socks than the average person.) I also have no food in this apartment. It's pretty sad. Dinner = event, or takeout, and that's about it. I'm even starting to eat breakfast at work (had a tasty banana-orange smoothie this morn). I drink coffee in the mornings and not tea, since that's what's in the big carafes, and I really don't like Lipton, and no one brings to-go cups to work (I did, twice, and felt incredibly awkward both times). I'm trying to go to the gym as much as I can to fight the Work Club spread--I'm lifting still, which makes me feel strong and awesome, and I bust my ass on the elliptical, which has recently been bothering my "good" knee and thus makes me nervous.

...which also reminds me, a week from now is the Fourth. Wow.

Anyway. It feels a lot later than it is, and this is a long, rambly post, and I kind of want to sing, and I kind of want to read, and I'll probably end up watching TV, and hopefully I'll sleep through the night tonight. I just re-read my entries from July '06, and it reminded me that the frigging World Series of Pop Culture is gearing up again (July 9, mark your calendars, o ye gluttons for punishment), and I suppose I'll watch it, just to see if El Chupacabra can win again.

Those old entries also reminded me how much fun I had last summer, how great Chicago is in the summertime, and how great "Chicago" is, too (it came up on my iPod the other day and my heart nearly burst). I hope you kids back home are taking care of my city. I love NYC, too, but it's different. It's a little grittier, a little less personal, a little more intrusive. Chicago just... is. And I do miss it, especially this time of year.

Someone have a big slice of watermelon from the Dominick's stand at the Taste for me, will you please?

it's never too late

BLERG.

So, while I was out at lunch at the House o'Cheese today (that's not what it's called, but as one who worships at the altar of parmesan, it was a little slice of heaven, for sure), I missed a phone call from one of my doorpersons at my Chicago apartment telling me that my mail was "really starting to pile up back there," and politely inquiring when I would pick it up.

UM.

I will be calling tomorrow to tell them that TWICE I have sent mail-forwarding requests to my Local Post Office, and that I've received the confirmation letter in return here in NYC, but that is the ONLY piece of mail I've received since May 12. MAY 12! While I'm relieved that my mail is SOMEwhere (and heck, when do I ever read a timely Time? my apartment literature sell-by date is generally worse than a doctor's waiting room), I kind of have to throw up my hands at this point. It must be the mail carrier's complete obliviousness to my forwarding needs, because I have literally spoken to everyone else in the distribution chain, from my doorman here in NY to the head of the Local Post Office in Chicago. Maybe my Chicago doorperson can smack some sense into my mail carrier and have her PLEASE stop overstuffing my poor Chicago mailbox?

I never had this problem in four years of college mail-fowarding--but then, all my college mail went to a College Mail Depot (we had our own zip code), so they were probably way more used to forwarding summer mail than the Chicago Post Office. I just really, really want a magazine that doesn't talk about April news. Is that too much to ask?

...yes, that clunking sound you hear is my head repeatedly hitting my desk. Sigh. Time to drown my sorrows in Laundry Club, I suppose.

oh, you got me shakin'

hahahahaha.

Okay, so, I don't have time to blog. I need to get to Sleep Club so I can pry my sorry behind out of bed in the morning before work for Gym Club.

But I forgot to share yesterday that I totally Named That Commercial Tune in three notes the other day (it's an ad for Saturn cars; I left a clue in the subject header for the uninformed/curious).

And more importantly? Someone found this blog searching for "chocolate mango frappuccino zoolander." HA.

anyway. to bed! (assuming I can pry my sorry behind away from late night Frasier reruns. oh, that Niles!)

down a whispering well

Work Club heated up a little bit this week--in the broadest, vaguest terms, I got to see some Law In Action yesterday and today, and that? was awesome. Also awesome? finally seeing where Law and Order is filmed! Those iconic steps and columns! hee. I half-expected Sam Waterston or Mariska Hargitay to come charging out at me.

Anyway, we had an event at the Tenement Museum, and I'm breaking the Work Club silence a little bit because it was an incredibly meaningful experience for me. My father's parents were immigrants from Germany--they lived in Brooklyn until he was in grade school, at which point they moved out to rural New Jersey. I made a few trips to that house when I was young, and I remember a Singer sewing machine at the top of the stairs exactly like the one featured on the front page of the website. I remember that house vividly, from the heavy feel of the front room, the chrome-painted fixtures and bright red wallpaper. The old raggedy ann dolls upstairs, the twin beds, the window seat. The little bathroom with the radiator. The porch. The boxwood hedges with that distinctive smell.

The similar feeling of the rooms in the Museum evoked the kind of steely tenacity it must've taken to pack everything up and move to a foreign country, away from family and friends, swapping everything familiar for an entirely new life. The Museum reminded me of how many, many families did just that, how so many of us came from that kind of history. I definitely wasn't expecting that. I'm not sure how many law firm events will come with a side of self-reflection, but I'm very grateful for this little opportunity for quiet time in an otherwise overwhelmingly whirlwind summer.

Sleep club now? Yes, please.

for the fun and the fashion

man, it is HARD to keep up with blogging and Work Club.

In fact, I started this entry an hour ago and got sidetracked. And now it's once more time for Sleep Club.

Suffice it to say that things are good. Grades came out this week--bunnies galore, for which I'm grateful. Nary a squirrel in the bunch. (As Erica already knows, I prefer to think of my grades in terms of Maeby's report card. And I just spent 15 min on youtube trying to find that Arrested Development clip, but... no dice.) Had a bunch of fun law firm events this week as well, which means even less time around my tawny gypsy mac and its simple pleasures (music blogs... facebook... email).

And now I literally cannot keep my eyes open. Sorry I'm so boring lately. As a peace offering, I give you this: