Thanksgiving weekend.

Tim and I had a relaxing weekend in central Wisconsin with his dad's family. I got to spend lots of time eating and sitting, and Tim got to go skiing for the first time in about six years. I have a feeling his younger siblings (who do not use ski poles???) taught him a thing or to. His oldest sister has really improved on the piano, his youngest sister continues to have a tape recorder in her brain for all things said and done, and his little brother pretty much won Tim over. He's seven years old. And pretty awesome.

We made both trips, up to Wisconsin and back again, without much travel trouble. But somehow, after sleeping for 10 hours each night we spent at the Stine's, we are exhausted. Super sleepy. Like, totally, we are so slee-heepy that...so sleep-sleepy...

Empathy.

Kaye's car got hit...again. For the second time in like, six weeks.

Tim: We should really do something to cheer Kaye up. We should buy her dinner.

Me: We could bring over a pizza.

Tim: But we don't have a pizza.

(thoughtful silence)

Tim: We could obtain a pizza.

(thoughtful silence)

Me: Uhhhh...yes.

Inject some humor already.

Did anyone listen to Fresh Air today? The guest was Ahmed Rashid, a well-known journalist and author from Pakistan.

And he sounded exactly like Stuey from Family Guy. Low brow, I know. Just sayin.

I'm really going to try this again...

This is song #2.

So I've been playing with Digital Performer and using Tim's aptly named E-MU audio/MIDI interface.

Song #2 has a big instrumental flourish in the middle. Needs some work.

Song #1 (which is just implied since there is a song #2) was recorded in stereo, and for some reason will absolutely not tuck into one neat little track. So that's going to take some work before it happens.

I'm getting a little exasperated at this point because I JUST WANT TO POST THIS THING but I had to sign up for about five different music services and downloaded just one mp3 converting software. Sooooooo boo yah. I hope it works.

Frustratingly yours,

Ruth

Eat poop you cat.

Hey, do you know how to play Eat Poop You Cat? said Gwen.

Um, No. I said. But...I was wrong. There are lots of names for this simple game: we know it by the imaginative name of "Sentence Picture."

Just sit back and enjoy. If you have not played before, the game starts with a sheet of paper, and either a sentence or picture. It is then passed to someone else, who follows with a picture or sentence, describing or illustrating the previous sentence or picture. SENTENCE PICTURE!



"See? The pirate is a hipster because he's wearing skinny jeans!"

Note: Our cat is named "Birdie." And apparently Tim does not know how to spell "booby."


Last, and most certainly the most tasteless...drum roll please...




CYBOL CRASH!

Geek out time.

My friend Kaye just sent me the best thing ever.

It's a caucasion funk song dedicated to the most AWESOME people in the world: Arts Administrators.

Those who know me well know I enjoy a good bridge. The lyrics for just this sort of things are below:

Juggling that governing board
Buying things they can't afford
Driving in an old Accord
('Cause they can't buy a new one).

HA! Anthony Taylor, song writer and lyricist of this wonderful tale of hard working, low tax bracket professionals, must be sharing a bed with an Operations Manager. That's all I'm sayin.

oh no she dih int.

oh yes she did.

Delicious. Delicious. And delicious.

I finally used my Kitchenaid to make some pizza dough this evening. What, hello Mister Dough Hook! Nice to meet you! My dough turned all stretchy and soft and pristene. And then it blew up to twice the size, and rolled out like a dream. A DREAM I TELL YOU!

And I cooked the sausage on the stove top and then added about four giant onions and steamed them, then piled them on top of the rolled out dough, no sauce needed, and then piled the sausage on top. Baked at 350 for half an hour, then 10 minutes on 425. Crispy. Crunchy. What do you think, Tim?



Garfi gar vuh gar? Mmmm, me too. ME NEED FOOD.

travel for work.

Well, I am sitting in union square enjoying a delicious coffee and breakfast amoungst all the Europeans that seem to have taken over this touristy neighborhood, and I am still reveling in the afterglow of being mistaken for a native---gah, pidgeon on the table! No bacon for YOU---and being able to tell another young British guy that no, you aren't on Powell, but if youi want to hit China Town, just head to the next light, take a left, and head up the hill. Woot.

I did not take a trolley, but I did head down a street with multiple crack heads, as well as run along the bay. And run through China Town. And enjoyed some delious sushi next to another British business traveler that shared his experience of hearing the election results at a hotel bar in Atlanta. He apologized for the language.by the way, the British love Obama!

Another note? I drove in California. Hurrah.

And initially I didn't like San Francisco because pedestrians just would not make room for me on the sidewalk---their personal bubbles were about two inches on either side, way less than a midwesterner. But when I just stepped back inside the cafe, a stranger saved my fritatta from the birds. So I think the city has redeemed itself.

So today I head back to Chicago. Where it will snow and be cold and Tim and me and the cats will sweat in our steam heated apartment.

Yayyyyyyyy.

WooooohhhhHHOOOOOOOoooey!

We win.

We won.

WE won.



McCain, nice speech at the end, very positive and classy. Barack, I might miss your speech tonight. I'm tired and in a time zone twice behind my own. But I can hear the "whoohoooooooooos" and "YEAHS!" on the San Francisco treat. I mean, street.

Beep beep! Celebrate! The country has spoken loud and clear, and the very, very close race that unfolded tonight shows that there is a serious class issue in the US. It was amazing to see those cross sections of middle states like Pennsylvania, when the whole state was red except for a couple blue blotches, and it still went to the Democrats. Amazing, and a bit scary.

It was also weird to watch Fox News and CNN disect the voting demographics into such blatant class issues: race, education, gender. Not soccer moms (although that also states, woman, educated, home owner in the same breath). We went back to basics, which I think we were reduced to those qualifiers by the recent turns of the economy.

That's it. No more politics from this lady.

Except this: I am just so, so glad that White House will not be welcoming someone known as Todd, aka, First Dude.

Yikes.

A non Halloween.

For the first time in a long, long time, I did not dress up for Halloween. Not even a thrown together, last minute costume. Sad, but true. But we did leave the house and we did see some great costumes---one cardboard robot on the red line back to logan square, and one group costume that was great---it was a Verizon wireless network. About 12 people, all wearing bright red, white, tan and black, some with hard hats, clipboards, and one with khaki pants, a blue jacket, and black framed glasses. Hee.

What did we do instead? Celebrated the birth of Mai Sugimoto, of course.


And also the year of the dog.


And the year of the horse.


Cause we celebrated the birth of one Mai, twice a lady, in Chinatown. A lovely dinner for 9, and then, because we had so much energy, we went back to Mai and Kaye's and ate birthday cake.



Our enthusiasm. Is obnoxiously. Oh so contagious. Huh.