Mad Men in Madison

We walk into the party in a repurposed movie house. We immediately take survey of the room and crown ourselves queens of all things. We proceed to make party friends (don't tell us your names, let's just dance next to each other for three hours. Yes? Yes.) who are lovely and very sweet and probably about seven years our junior. Nice kids.

I, of course, AM SELECTED to compete in best costume contest, but am knocked out in the first round, which I blame on knowing NO ONE in the room, because the winner did not have a beehive or fur. Or a vintage purse. She was tiny and wearing something that looked like a stewardess outfit.

At one point, we looked down on the dance floor and realized one of our beehives was leaking panty hose. We ignored it.

At the end of the night, Liz led us to The Paradise (which had been at only hours before for dinner) without question or discussion. Then we went home and slept in our make up.

The next morning, when I work up Liz with a fresh glass of Crystal Light, she admitted it was her that was spreading panty hose everywhere. She also admitted she had assumed it was Dana and had been silently judging her hair for being so unreliable.

UGGG. My friends. So great. Thank you.

Tonight: spelling bee party.

Tonight is my spelling bee party.

I, at the moment, am ill prepared. I have numbers for participants and a bell to ring for correct spellings.

Left for preparation:
(clean)
put spelling bee welcome banner together
hang/string numbers
set up "spelling room"
veggie dip
buy ice, ingredients for rum punch and teetotaler drinks
get big cooler from the basement
open windows
make italian deli roll (liz and james are coming, they demand pizza burrito)
buy a prize for the winner
take out recycling

Photos to come. I love Saturday.

This is my new hairstyle. I think it looks cute. Tim hates it. He would prefer I didn't leave the house looking like this. I think it looks nice and Nordic. We've agreed to disagree.

Other places where I have conceded to Tim: his demand for more beef stroganoff in our lives. I have a great recipe that hailed from my great aunt Clara, on the Mische side (which i am strongly resembling in the photo below). This morning Tim and I went to our local grocery store: where the produce is cheap, the meat section is diverse, and speaking English is optional. I was browsing in the pre-wrapped beef area, and the butcher offered to help me find something. I'm always game for advice from the experts, so I told him I needed a cut that was thin and good for pan frying.

Hmmm...says the bilingual butcher. He takes in the breadth of beef choices he has in front of him and then grabs a package. Here, you want this, and he hands me a tray of thin cut, very marbled meat labeled "Boneless Top Blade Steak."

This? I ask.

Yes, yes, this is the best, he says. This is really the best, it's tender and very good for you. And it's on special right now.

I must have looked a little quizzical, like, hey, what are you, you trying to pawn this discount meat on me? Hm?

So he says, This is baby foot.

HUH? I say.

You know, baby food, when you make baby food with beef, this is the beef you use. It's really the best. Really good, really tender.

Ohhhhhh. I say, Okay! And we just cooked up that beef and it really was the best stroganoff I've had in a long time. Tender, and just the right texture for baby foot.

Here's Tim and I at our friend Dana's fabulous birthday party last night. I spent most of the night showering Yitzak the cat with attention. When we arrived, I couldn't stop saying Merry Christmas! instead of Happy Birthday! or Nice to see you again!

Happy Birthday, Dana! You're the tops.

Post 3: Your first love.

Yes, I know I'm behind. I apologize for this oversight, but pledge to make it up in quickly posted, soft-baked posts.

My first love.

Instead of the expected thing, which would too embarrassing for me, I'll write about my first friend love: Ashlie.

Our friendship blossomed in the third grade when we both realized how many similarities we had: neither were contendors for the most popular girls in the room, yet we were not picked last in gym. We both loved reading, and our fathers owned airplane hangers next to each other. We both grew up on farms. We both started listening to The Beatles together, played reed instruments in band, and went Trick or Treating together the year it was so snowy my dad had to drive us and my brother Aaron in his giant pick up. Yay for Ashlie and me!

We had our differences, (she was in the Girl Scouts, I was in 4-H; she was 7th Day Adventist, I was Baptist) but our friendship didn't start drifting until our freshman or sophomore years. We were friends in the classroom, but I started dating and getting in more trouble outside of class. It's funny (sad, not ha ha) that I don't remember losing this friendship, just realizing years later that it was gone. My family moved my junior year of high school, and I probably only have seen her a couple times since then.

My sophomore year of college was my feminist year of awakening, and I started thinking about that friendship I had lost track of. I tracked Ashlie down via e-mail (she was at a different school across the state) and we re-connected a bit, but I sent her a copy of Fear of Flying and never heard back from her again (that's funny ha ha).

Our mothers kept in touch so I've gotten updates---we're friends on facebook, and I've seen photos of her and her daughter. I hope they are doing well and having fun and singing Beatles songs together. I miss having that friend to discover new music, books, and hide YM magazines with, and I can't imagine what a boring mess I would have been without her.

The Sound of Stusic.

I brought Tim up to Janesville, WI last weekend to view a sing-along of The Sound of Music. We both needed a stop at Taco Johns as soon as we crossed over state lines (did you know they have a burrito with Fritos in it? Just think it over for a bit...doesn't sound so bad) so we arrived late and missed the costume contest, where one person reportedly dressed as Leisel's self esteem. Heh.

The Sound of Music sing along also encouraged several crowd responses to the action on the screen:

Barking when Ralph came on screen
Hissing at the Baroness
Booing any Nazis
Cheering for Maria
Swaying back and forth with a plastic sprig of edelweiss (provided for you)
Laughing at the seven grown-ups in sweatshirts with Do, Re, Mi, Fa (NOT FAR, stupid sub titles), So, La, Ti try to keep up with the Von Trapp children. Pretty funny.

Why did we go to Janesville for this? Our friend Liz invited us! Liz is a friend that has seen (and verbally repeated many times) me on my worst behavior, usually because she was encouraging or at least enjoying the same bad behavior. She has more student debt than you can shake a stick at, reads more books in a week than I do in a year, and will let you know if you owe her a phone call. She's one of the two people in my life that call me Ruthie. There are typically no surprises at this point of a friendship.

Which is why I was surprised that she loved the Sound of Music. We both tend to lean more toward Bikini Kill than musical scores, but apparently both Liz and her little sister Emily spent every Christmas at home singing along, dancing, and doing actions to the Sound of Music with their mom. So. Watching her and her sister sing along word for word on every song, and scream "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" along with Leisel was a high point of 2010.

It was awesome. Thanks, Liz! And...sorry, Tim.

Sound of Music sing along from Ruth Meberg Stine on Vimeo.

A recap without photos.

Tim and I spent about two and a half weeks back in Fargo this year. Too much? No. Just perfect.

Stine family Christmas always hits the weekend before Christmas. We headed to La Crosse and stayed with Tim's brother, Scott, and his lovely wife, Liz, in their new home. A HOUSE. They have officially surpassed us in grown-up-ed-ness. Then Liz and I took the scenic route through Red Wing, MN to Minneapolis. Family, wine, food, all the best of the best were waiting for us, and Liz and I started a shopping partnership that will not be rivaled. We were shopping ninjas. Within a few shopping trips, we covered all areas of the family, and only a few got books (which I SOMETIMES consider a cop out). Boo yah! We got Tim's little brother this amazing book (not a cop out!)on skateboarding tricks, cause, you know, he's awesome. Liz got the Martha Stuart Encyclopedia of Crafts from us---one of those gifts you give but really want to keep.

The highlight of the Stine Family Christmas get together is always the Yankee Swap. Not because we get gifts, but the joy of watching people steal, re-steal, and barter (and by people I am referring to uncles that are members of AARP haggling over $10 bills and snuggies with eight-year-old nephews) for whatever the "it" gift of the season is. This year, it was a NDSU sweatshirt. The bummer gift? A hat in the shape of a giant cone decorated like a tree that played "Rockin Around the Christmas Tree" while tilting and swaying on your head. No one wanted it...too bad. Too bad for Uncle Paul, that is, cause now it's his.

Back to Fargo from there! And this year, our car didn't need a new battery, fail to produce heat, or die in a pool of oil once we made it back to NoDak. Yaaaaaaay. We headed to my sisters, Tim's Mom, and my parents home throughout the Christmas season, even through the three day blizzard. I think I'm losing my ND swagger---when Tim's mom sent him out for eggs on Christmas morning to the only gas station open in Fargo, I worried the whole time he was going to get stuck in a ditch (echo in my mother's voice: stuck in a ditch, stuck in a ditch, stuck in a ditch...) until he returned.

Then we headed to the Meberg Family Christmas. So many children! Children! Everywhere! From multiple siblings! I still have such clear memories of our childhood Christmas Eve nights/Christmas mornings at our farm when we were all still pretending to believe in Santa Claus. We'd pile up all the presents from Santa Claus (delivered from hidden places in the basement after 10:30 p.m., roughly) and count to see how many we each got. THIS IS HOW WE MEASURED OUR PARENTS LOVE.

Just kidding. But only sort of. Our parents were smart enough to keep it pretty evenly dispersed. Their favorite thing was stretching out after we opened all the presents under the tree and saying, "hmmmm...I think I saw Santa leave something for David on...THE BACK PORCH!" and we'd watch David scamper into the back porch and return with some sort of unwrappable gift. The best was my parents giving me an electric guitar kit in high school. Thanks, Santa. They also hid pool cues, a gun (for David), and fishing poles.

Anyway, did I mention there were lots of babies in our holiday vacation this year? Not only do I now have four nieces and nephews (two being under 1 year old), our married friends in Fargo have decided it's time to multiply and conquer. We went to a New Years Eve party where there were children aged one to seven. My immediate thought was, am I old enough for this type of party?

The answer is, yes. This environment did the opposite of what our mothers were hoping---we are even more assured that we are not ready to be parents anytime soon, but still love seeing our friends' babies grow. Especially Rowan and Linden. And especially Rowan. Yikes! Teg retuc, nawoR, Teg retuc! She's my favorite (photo to come illustrating cuteness).

One thing I did NOT get to do is go for a wintery run with my brothers and sister-in-law, which has been a Christmas tradition for the last few years. Why? Not only was my parents house too full for Tim and I to stay (we should have just split up for the night! What were we thinking? Apparently, we are unable to breathe without each other), Aaron and Kate were too busy campaigning for Best Uncle and Aunt, which they did eventually clinch. After all the uncles left town, Tim asked five-year-old niece Leah if Tim was her favorite uncle, and she honestly (and not shyly) replied "hmmm...well...you're my third favorite uncle." Out of how many? "Three." Ouch.

Friends: we did have enough time to spend one on one with friends. I got to spend a lot of time with my friend Julia, who might leave Fargo by the time head back again. My other friend Morgan is hoping to move in the next year, but Sarah is staying for good! Good for Sarah and her Norwegian roots! Also, got to spend an hour with my old boss, Ms. Margie Bailey. This woman's honesty, humor, and patience is parralelled by no one I know. Also, her jewelry choice is always reassuring.

Our last stop of the season was Tim's cousins' wedding. Not only was this great because we got to spend time with Tim's Grandpa Norman and several of his cousins, I also got to see Tim's mom sing for the first time. She sang the Lord's Prayer at the wedding, and Tim played guitar as well. Sometimes I forget that other families are not as talented as my family/families. And then I feel sorry for them and dream about how Tim and I will birth children playing miniature violins and singing in solfeg fresh out of the womb. Sorry, rest of you people.

Anyway, IT WAS AWESOME. We are back in Chicago and getting into a daily rhythm now that I am part of a car pool, eating no red meat, and scrimping and pinching for the next few months. Also, I'm signing up for the Chicago Marathon, the Cincinnati Flying Pig Half Marathon, and a spring triathlon! 2011 is the year I work myself to death! More on that later.

Sincerely,

Ruth in 2010

Summer Refund Party at the Neighbor's.

No mosquitos, no sand in the swimsuit. What happened to summer this year? Our creative and oh so physically attractive (see below) neighbors hosted a party to bring a bit of the season back. The main event was a potluck followed by a screening of the classic film, Sleepaway Camp. Description from Netflix.com reveals the intriguing plot line:

Welcome to Camp Arawak, where teenage boys and girls learn to experience the joys of nature, as well as each other. But when these happy campers begin to die in a series of horrible accidents, they discover that someone -- or something -- has turned their summer of fun into a vacation to dismember. Has a dark secret returned from the camp's past... or will an unspeakable horror end the season forever?

What a lovely treat. Thanks, Dave and Danielle! Stop looking so cute. I said STOP.






Isn't this cute? Instead of using lamps by the movie screen they used gold ballons. It still made it feel like a theatre without affecting the picture quality. Yay smart host/hostess!










Yes, be jealous. This was a great way to say goodbye to summer, even though I couldn't stay to watch the film (I have no tolerance for suspense). I came home after a few edge-of-your-seat games of Sequence at Kaye's house and peeked my head out the window to hear how the film was going.

Music swelled in the background as a young female camper called out "Michael? Is that you?"
A backyard patron said what everyone else was thinking: "Oh, honey, it's not."

Well.

We just had the most lovely night. I came home from a bike ride to a clean house thanks to Timothy, and thawed out some fresh caught salmon. SALMON. SALMON!

Salmon.



SALMON.

Our Houseguest, Al, took Timothy on a chartered fishing trip last moth, and they brought home a bounty of trout and SALMON. Tim and Al took care of the fish prep, and I made a tomato basil pasta, cucumber vinegar/sugar salad, and lemon bars. BARS. WOOT.

A friend of mine from Fargo joined us, along with his boyfriend, and then entire evening was incredibly lovely. And, oh man. Perhaps I should back up a bit.

Last year at this time, our Houseguest Al and his wife, Annika, came to visit. Tim and I were new to Chicago, new to the transit system, new to the city in every way possible. We knew two people, and didn't know any of our neighbors. I was still feeling extremely nervous about my job and fitting in with my colleagues, and our apartment was empty. We ate at the same three restaurants and took the same roads, shopped at the same stores. We had information overload, and had no idea how to figure out how to figure out where to go and what to do.

A year later, Houseguest Al is back, and we are in such a different spot. We know all our neighbors---we have cat sat for a majority of them. We're going to a wedding for a couple we barely knew when we moved here, and now feel very close to (they are our Kentucky doppelgangers). I got an invitation to join a book club. I ride my bike instead of taking the trains. Our apartment is full of stuff. I enjoy my colleagues, and am extra special musican spousy/cat owner/Logan Square friends with my cubicle mate. I am volunteering for an arts organization! And we've learned to understand the difference between a superficial conversation (we have nothing in common but we're within two feet of each other!) and an enjoyable conversation (hi, we are nice! we like books and are not rude. we are worth your time!). We are looking for a house to move into. I'm training for a sprint triathlon. I read Gapersblock.com.

Tonight, we invited a friend from Fargo over to our house for dinner. It was great to sit and learn about what other people have been doing since leaving Fargo, but also so very comforting to reminisce about the city that we love. It was also great to talk to people that love food (hot dogs and beef) as much as us (Tim), and that are new to Chicago and also searching for friends, interests, and entertainment with their partner (lover).

Also, big step---I'm really trying to get over my North Dakota hostess bad manners. No, I don't need help! Just sit and stare while I sweat and preen over this hot stove! Toiling is my pleasure. Tonight I let my guests dry all the dishes and then Houseguest Al directed them to their proper home. I'm growing.

Mimi was really cute. She's getting her stitches out on Saturday. AND, I tried to play this mouth harp we got as a gift for watching a cat but it feels like I just bit on a fork really hard and plucked the tines repeatedly.

Sleep when you are dead.

I'm bussing back to Chicago after spending 2.5 glorious days in Madison, Wisconsin. So many things happened---driving, eating, Veronica Mars, jousting, painting--- and I feel ever so relaxed.

Last night Liz took me to a friend's birthday party where I got to watch two episodes of Star Trek (The Trouble with Tribbles and the one where Spock is engaged) and got to spend a nice time chatting with the birthday boy, who was turning 30.

So, I say while shuffling cards repeatedly, is there anything you really wanted to accomplish by the time you were 30 that didn't get done?

Uh, yeah, he said.Marriage, children, financial stability. Yeah, so just everything. Ha ha ha.

Yes, I could have phrased that a bit better, but it's something I've thought a bit about lately. Friends and brothers are buying their first home and last weekend we went to a Flag Day party where someone our age brought their baby. Several of Tim's friends are daddy's, although just as many are single. A couple of them have two whole children already. We, and by that, I mean only me, have always thought that we would start moving toward those grown-up life changing decisions in the next few years after graduate school. So...is that now?

Basically what I'm saying is that there are a handful of things I've assumed I would accomplish before 30 without even having to try:

1. Have children
2. Buy a two story home
3. Work in an office, not a cube
4. Live closer to family
5. Have tons of friends living in the same town as me
6. Own a piano

Well, I do own a piano, but I kinda put that in at the last minute to make me feel better. But as I ride home on my friendly Megabus for just $17.50, I'm thinking of few more things I'd like to focus on in the next two years and 71 days:

1. Help Tim stop smoking
2. Train for and complete a mini-triathlon
3. Write enough songs to start a band called either "White Snack" or "Tiny Cats"
4. Play music/sing on a stage again
5. Make more friends
6. See Grampa Mische, visit my family farm
7. Be a god parent
8. Take a trip to the south
9. See an indie rock show in Chicago
10. Find a worthy volunteer gig for weekends

Some are more doable than others, and one is actually totally out of my hands.being married, I'm one ahead of this weekend's birthday boy in the marriage/children/financial stability poll.

So...I WIN!

spirit animal.

Julia asked us if we wanted to see her new tattoo.

People mistake it for a dove, but it's not a dove, she said as she pulled her collar down. It's my spirit animal, a pigeon. When I brought the picture in, none of the tattoo artists were excited about it, but then this one guy came out and was like, awesome! A pigeon! My uncle raises pigeons! And he was so excited about giving a chest tattoo.

So I asked him to make the beak a little funnier, and he diiiiiiiiid!

I love Julia so much.

It's Easter already? YESSSS.

Oh ho ho, you missed Easter. Let's just say it started out with THIS:


Cranberry Red Roast Braised Pork Should from Chef Ming. Only took six hours. Totally worth it. Oh yes, I also made steamed biscuits. Sooo tasty with the smoky, steamy, rich, berry-licious pork).

And then there was this for the vegans in attendance! My first attempt at curry turned out well---potatos, cauliflour, carrots, onions, coconut milk, curry --- don't just stand there! GO! It was so good I made another batch on Monday to take to work all week.


We also had some friends in town! Fargo Liz, Birthday Buddy James, Catherine, and new friend Leah, who taught me how to blanch green vegetables. As I was cooking the whole time they visited, they were forced to drink sangria for several hours straight with no entertainment other than avoiding the random Facebook attendee at the cocktail hour (don't ask). Until I introduced them to the many desserts on hand, including vegan stout chocolate cupcakes (brought by the vegans, so amazing), and the two desserts I made:

Amy Sedaris's Lady Baltimore Cake, featured on the Martha Stuart Show, and...



The first ever Dessert Ham. It should be added to your menu like coffee and pie, something to be nibbled on if you have any available space left in that belly after hours of sitting and eating idly. Lovely, covered in brown sugar, cloves, cranberries, and orange juice. Mmmmahhhhhhh.

Oh, but how do we work it off? Okay, we don't. But we do play musical chairs every Easter. And this year I was not surprised to see the best card players I know, Kaye and Liz, vying for the title (Liz won, not surprised. She's cunning).

I'm still working on finishing off the cake. Working hard. Really, really hard. And look! Mike made a new friend.

Happy Birthday with Sushi.

Tim and I have learned so much about each other in Chicago. I have learned to control my temper, and Tim has learned that I value gifts where time and thought have been used in large amounts, instead of a book from Barnes and Noble.

So for my birthday this year he cleaned the entire house (!!!), made me a pan of brownies, and asked our friend Mai (a real oriental! ha ha, she loves it when I say that) to teach us how to make sushi, something I've wanted to do since I bought him a sushi making kit in 2005. She took him shopping and then came over last night. IT WAS AWESOME. And I'm having sushi for lunch. Here are some of Mai's tips for sushi:

Meat: get frozen tuna steaks. Tuna that is thawed has already been frozen at least once, so the frozen stuff will taste better. Imitation crab is cheaper at an Asian Market than your usual grocery store.
Veggies: Avocados and a cucumber are good to start with. Cut them so they will look pretty when they are cross-sectioned in the sushi roll.
Rice: Buy the good stuff at a food market, it's the most important part of the sushi roll. We got Nashiki medium grain rice, five pounds for $6. I made two cups and it was enough for about 10-12 rolls. Also, get Japanese rice vinegar---the taste is important.

Step by step: I made the rice as the package directed. After it was done, we spread it out and cut it repeatedly to get the heat out. Mai also poured in several tablespoons of the vinegar and cut it in, just so we could taste it but it wasn't overpowering. The rice was really sticky.



I started cutting up veggies and meat. The imitation crab was cut into strips, but most of the tuna was minced for a spicy tuna mixture, using mayonnaise, soy sauce, and Srirachi chili sauce to taste.



Now came the tricky part. We layed out the bamboo rolling mats and cut out a small sheet of Seran Wrap, folded a sea weed sheet in half, and placed it shiny side down, so the rice is on the rough side. Then we spread the rice out thinly and evenly, leaving a little overhang on the longer sides so they would bond together better. See? Aren't we cute?



The next part gets a little tricky. Basically, you use the Seran Wrap to keep your rice from sticking to the mat. We flipped the seaweed/rice over after patting it down, and then we were ready for our ingredients. We did combos of everything we had, and then Mai showed me how to fold the roll so the edges meet while keeping the meat and veggies in their rightful place. The hardest part then is packing the rolls together, sort of in a square shape, so that the rice sticks together and doesn't fall apart after you slice it.



See also mixed in some wasabi with the soy sauce, so delicious. After about I had a couple rolls under my belt (heh!) I attempted a trifecta: tuna, avocado, AND cucumber. And it worked! I am the queen of sushi.



Tim had already left to see a Bill Frissell concert, so after we ate about three rolls each and cleaned up, Mai and I finished off the wine and birthday brownies with Kaye and watched those snazzy Isabella Rosselli biology films on Sundance.com everyone is so excited about. What a great way to celebrate another year of life! Happy Birthday to my one and only twin brother Aaron (I'm bringing your very humble birthday gift to the Fargo Marathon) and baby Ben, who still craps his pants. YOU LOSE!

Missing in the missus.

We've been in Chicago for almost a year, which means it's been about three years since I left behind Fargo and all the friends and memories that came with it. Some of the friends left earlier than I did, and we try to keep in touch. But these are the type of friends that have seen me at my worst, especially Alana, Morgan, and Liz, and still like me. I think. The sort of person that you could be away from for eight years and jump right back into the same stream of sarcasm, gossip, or family stories that you left off with. So important.

I'm having some friends over for Easter on Sunday, and when I was lying awake last night, I found myself wishing that they could ALL be with me, not just one of them (which I do appreciate). Because when I am around these people, I forget about all the complaining, agonizing, and short-lived excitement that tends to get done with friends you see daily. You are just happy to BE with them, SEE them, bask in their greatness.

Hello friends. I miss you very much.


Alana was the first person I took a compliment from seriously. First mature teenager I ever met, first fellow female bass player. In college, we survived being roommates and continued for the next few years to call each other when things either got really scary or really good, as if we were both the only peers that would take each other seriously and without judgement. I called her when I met Tim and realized it was going to stick. First person I think of I think of Bismarck, ND. I hope there is a day when we are making tiny peanut butter sandwiches together, because I remember her telling me that was her goal in life while we were in high school listening to Sleater-Kinney and most likely breaking several laws.

Morgan was the first person that I met as a stranger, assumed she was too cool to be my friend, and then became one of those friends you hang out with in pajamas to watch two consecutive ANTM marathons on VH-1. She seemed to be one of those people that was always in the eye of the storm---calm when others were crazy or stupid. So she could always relate the best gossip later on. She's someone who deserves only the best and I feel very protective of her because I want her to have THE BEST in everything, but I'm not sure why I feel so strongly about this, so differently than I feel about other friends. Also, she's a romantic, and there are so few of us closet romantics left. For instance, I know what song will be playing when she dances with her husband for the first time at her wedding.

Julia, I can't remember how we met. It seemed to be extremely organic. She is the first person that made me realize that I was MORE ME when I was around her. Very Midwest, very comfortable, very creative, very courageous. She embraces craziness in others as only few can, professionally and personally. I have every confidence in her to do whatever she wants, with whoever she wants, and whenever she wants. She also has a pterodactyl cat and was like, isn't this great? Check it out! Extra toes! This can only mean good things! Out of every person I know, she makes me feel the best about myself and others around me. When I see her I immediately want to hug her, pick her up, spin in a circle, and hear about every story I have missed.

Liz is the smartest woman I know. Our best/worst memory is jumping up and down at her graduation party, breaking 100 glasses at Ralphs, and running out the door as if something was actually going to happen to us (we are invincible). First person that told me she did not want to have kids, a choice I couldn't even conceive of coming from such a monogamous small town. First person I knew that traded paperbacks with train punks. First friend to call me Ruthie. Someone I would call to handle something like my house burning down, or an unexpected death very close to me. So, so loyal to friends, that she WILL CALL YOU ON IT. Which is so reassuring in a unstoppable kind of way. Like a family member.

Gwen has the best style of any of my friends. Her haircuts are dots on the timeline of my short life. First friend I wrote two songs about. I have NO IDEA what she will do with her life, as she could do anything that she pleases because she is soooo charming. Her psyche is self-constructed, along with the help of Mister Rogers, and she seemed to have the self-awareness of an aging writer with arthritis when she was 10, something I still don't possess. Accepts both failure and success with a glass of wine and dirty jokes. Someone I look forward to retiring near.

Dana is a New Friend. When I met her, I thought she would be someone else. But she wasn't. She was someone that leaves the house alone and does things without social safety precautions, like excuses or extra friends to entertain her. I've never, ever, not once, heard her actually be sad about anything besides missing a good sale. Does things like falls in love with men that are shorter than her and accepts nothing but the best in dress, food, and drink, all while remaining thankful and amazed instead of pretentious. Oh, and her relationship with the man that is shorter than her is one of the most magical things I have ever seen in my entire life, without a doubt. Effortless, forgiving, continued enjoyment and support that is inspiring to anyone that has been in a four year relationship of any kind. Someone I look forward to being influenced by in the near future. Cross your fingers, economy!


Tim (reading over my shoulder): You're nice.
Ruth: I miss my friends.
Tim: Am I your friend?
Ruth: You're my best friend.
Tim: Do best friends make me lunch?

Cabin fevah.

The weekend passed nice and slow, with the big snow being the big thing. Until last night. We went over to Kaye's for dinner and Mexican dominos...and about sixteen bottles of wine later, the Oberhausen siblings started throwing dollar bills.

Woot! Also, I made several snow angels walking home. Pretty great.

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!

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.

Goodbye, fall.

The people of Chicago have taken out their winter parkas, although they are mostly just walking around without zipping them up. Tim and I got to enjoy the company of two friends from Fargo this weekend - yayyyyyy.

We enjoyed home cooking two nights in a row, and explored some local bars. So funnnnn. Fun because we strategically placed Lance on the perimeter at every juncture, so all the crazies went straight for him and only trailed over to shake our hands as a side bar. We also learned that our cab driver was very familiar with Moorhead, MN. I believe he was Somalian. He told us he went to Rodchester every other weekend and it was like Las Vegas for him because he knew so many Somalians that met up there from Moorhead. Hrmph. Interesting.

Here are some fun pics of us this weekend, enjoying tacos, as well as a sampling of my evening's accomplishment: one lemon, lime, onion, and cilantro stuffed three pound chicken, chicken gravy, and banana bread. Sigh. I think that the early evenings are keeping me in the house a bit more.

If you're not a card person.

My friend Liz (not sister, or sister-in-law) has always been good at sending cards. So are my grandmothers, frateral and in-laws. While I will probably never reach their level of attentiveness to dates and correspondance, my co-worker just shared a new e-card site that has something for everyone. Enjoy. And please send me a card.

Two! Two! Two weekends in one (post)!

This Friday, Stephanie, Mai and I pulled off a master surprise party for our lovely friend Kaye. She was totally surprised, and I got to make a cake. Yippee! She felt a little gullible after realizing all the scheming we had done. Um yeeeah, let's go for sushi on Friday night...yesyes...oddly, all your friends have a quick yes or no for that plan...but you have something after work right?...Uuuh, what are you doing home so early? You can't come in the kitchen, and could you actually watch 90210 on you laptop in your room? We're just heading out for coffee quick but we're bringing five grocery bags of stuff with us...Ruth isn't answering her phone but when Mai calls she picks right up...Oh, but Ruth's running, so we are late for the restaurant...oh you're here! Welcome to our oddly dark apartment, Kaye. Yes I just opened a beer and we're already late...you don't want a beer?...oh! Ruth dropped something in the dark, dark dining room...let's go check it out...COME ON, let's check it out...

SURPRISE!!!!




Super fun. I also refused to hit the hay until 3 a.m. Fun. Especially the whole next day, when I didn't get out of bed till about 5 p.m. but thoroughly enjoyed watching the first disc in season three of Arrested Development while Birdie purred on my stomach and I scratched her furry little kitty-cat armpits. Purrrr.

AND LAST WEEKEND friend Gwen came to visit us with fiance Linda. And a giant, giant ring that looked like it gave birth to a litter of engagement rings, and mine was the Wilbur of the bunch. Or perhaps a distant cousin. What I'm trying to say is, Gwen's ring was HUGE and very GUH-WEN. Here is Gwen, proclaiming her devotion to Linda:



We also played Balderdash (featuring five hilarious categories, so put your funny pants on. Right now). Funny how some categories had us conjuring the same characters:

Title: Velvet

Dash 1: A young missionary travels to New Orleans only to be seduced by the sounds of the city.
Dash 2: One reformed street walker finds a new life teaching people to read.
Dash 3: A British film highlighting the creation of the first loin cloth in the Garden of Eden.


And some didn't...

Title: Sin of Harold Diddle
Dash 1: A 1947 film revolving around a family reunion and early-onset cannibalism.

Title: Going Ape
Dash 1: Guy inherits a bunch of orangutans and has to take care of them so he can inherit five million dollars.
Dash 2: Instructional video on negotiation tactics for married couples.


And the acronyms were pretty funny too:

AMHA: pronounced "A.M. ha!" is an organization for persons who LOVE mornings.



But after all that, it was so lovely to relax and watch a new episode of Gossip Girl and make some meat loaf this evening. Mi casa, carne casa. And cats. Ole.



Please stop looking at Birdie's butt. She can see you.

What a killer weekend!

This was the extent of our Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. And pretty much Monday.

It's not like we don't have friends...we just don't have enough friends. To keep us busy. Cause, like, if both of them are doing something without us, we don't really have anything to do. Plus we have no money. We're eating bologna. Ha, just keeding, I hate bologna. But really...we're lonely.