Consider this. A man leaves his job on a Friday afternoon at the same time he usually does, right down to the minute. He doesn't run to the train or walk any faster than he normally would. The train arrives at the station at its usual time, and he gets on.
By the time he gets home, he has a sudden realization. His trip, somehow, some way, took 10 minutes less than usual.
Not five or six. 10.
Could it be a mysterious reverse bermuda triangle has developed in the Loop, in which trains are not lost, but somehow sped through the bottlenecks? Was it just dumb luck? Or could it be, that after nearly a year of track work, construction and delays, the CTA has finally, bit by bit, begun to actually show some results?
We'll see Monday whether this is a permanent change or just a one-time mystery.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Best place to buy bean bag game (or, ahem, "cornhole") in Chicago?
Where do you chicagoans get all these wonderful toys?
K and I were smitten last summer when we saw all the folks out on their sidewalks playing this bean bag game with the unfortunate moniker. People in Charlotte don't do much except go to the mall, Baltimoreans are too mean to want to have fun -- the only place we've lived that had its own local sport was Asheville, but hackeysack was never really my thing.
But cornhole! What fun! (not that kind of fun, you east coasters).
Everyone in Chicago seems to have a set or a friend that does, but where the hell do you buy one -- or, more precisely, one that won't set you back $2,000 pesos. (Using pesos to price things makes things seem cheaper when you convert back to dollars, another nifty trick to survive the coming depression!)
If, and this is a big if, there are any people in Chicago who actually read this stupid blog of mine, do you have any suggestions?
K and I were smitten last summer when we saw all the folks out on their sidewalks playing this bean bag game with the unfortunate moniker. People in Charlotte don't do much except go to the mall, Baltimoreans are too mean to want to have fun -- the only place we've lived that had its own local sport was Asheville, but hackeysack was never really my thing.
But cornhole! What fun! (not that kind of fun, you east coasters).
Everyone in Chicago seems to have a set or a friend that does, but where the hell do you buy one -- or, more precisely, one that won't set you back $2,000 pesos. (Using pesos to price things makes things seem cheaper when you convert back to dollars, another nifty trick to survive the coming depression!)
If, and this is a big if, there are any people in Chicago who actually read this stupid blog of mine, do you have any suggestions?
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Dunkin Donuts is a bunch of wussies
What the hell is this nonsense about Dunkin Donuts caving in to Michelle Malkin and her band of pitchfork-wielding right-wingers? Not that I love Rachel Ray and her hyperactive TV personality, but who in their right minds would actually believe:
1: That Rachel Ray supports terrorism
2: That a scarf is anything more than a fashion statement
3: That anyone takes Michelle Malkin seriously
Actually, that last one turned out to be true. What goes on in her warped little mind that makes her see a frickin' Dunks commercial and automatically think "Palestinian Sympathizer!" No one thinks like that. No one. And the fact she managed to get away with publicly accusing an innocent person of supporting terrorism and caused a major company to run away with their tails between their legs is just frightening.
What is Dunkin Donuts's response to all of this?
That says it right there: "a black-and-white silk scarf with a paisley design."
It's just a scarf. Just a scarf. Just. A. Scarf. Dunkin Donuts did nothing wrong. Rachel Ray did nothing wrong. Her stylist did nothing wrong. There was nothing wrong with the ad whatsoever. There was nothing to misperceive.
If Michelle Malkin and her ilk have such a fit over a scarf, we'd better make sure that nobody tells them that the Arabs invented coffee. The CEO of Dunkin will probably sacrifice his first born son to appease these jackasses.
Dunkin Donuts was afraid of a boycott for running the ad? We should boycott them for taking it down.
1: That Rachel Ray supports terrorism
2: That a scarf is anything more than a fashion statement
3: That anyone takes Michelle Malkin seriously
Actually, that last one turned out to be true. What goes on in her warped little mind that makes her see a frickin' Dunks commercial and automatically think "Palestinian Sympathizer!" No one thinks like that. No one. And the fact she managed to get away with publicly accusing an innocent person of supporting terrorism and caused a major company to run away with their tails between their legs is just frightening.
What is Dunkin Donuts's response to all of this?
Thank you for sharing your comments. We always appreciate hearing from our customers. As of this past weekend, we are no longer using the online ad featuring Rachael Ray wearing a black-and-white silk scarf with a paisley design. Our decision was based solely on the fact that the possibility of misperception detracted from the intent of the ad, which was to promote iced coffee -- nothing more, nothing less.At Dunkin' Donuts, we value all our customers and are committed to making your experiences with us memorable and pleasant. Thank you, again, for making us aware of your concerns.
That says it right there: "a black-and-white silk scarf with a paisley design."
It's just a scarf. Just a scarf. Just. A. Scarf. Dunkin Donuts did nothing wrong. Rachel Ray did nothing wrong. Her stylist did nothing wrong. There was nothing wrong with the ad whatsoever. There was nothing to misperceive.
If Michelle Malkin and her ilk have such a fit over a scarf, we'd better make sure that nobody tells them that the Arabs invented coffee. The CEO of Dunkin will probably sacrifice his first born son to appease these jackasses.
Dunkin Donuts was afraid of a boycott for running the ad? We should boycott them for taking it down.
Monday, March 31, 2008
No Train
Today is the first workday without Paulina. The CTA has closed down our train station for a year to do rennovations that should have been done years ago. But, better late than never.
To put a metaphoric spin on things, it rained all day as we each walked farther to get to Addison. The CTA had plenty of workers out on the corners around Paulina to remind us all that the station was closed, in case the signs on the trains, the flyers they've been handing out all month and the big green fence with "Closed" signs all over it weren't enough. They even had the customer service reps from Addison out on the street -- or at least, that must be why nobody was at Addison to help K out when her U-Pass stopped working.
Unfortunately, no one told the Red Eye guy, so no celebrity gossip and quick local news bites while we all waited for the trains at Addison ... and waited to get through the new southbound bottleneck at Belmont and Fullerton.
The Addison station gives a glimpse into the clean, well-lit and spacious station we can look forward to in a year. And now we can watch as they slowly tear down and rebuild Paulina -- since we get to pass by it each day.
To put a metaphoric spin on things, it rained all day as we each walked farther to get to Addison. The CTA had plenty of workers out on the corners around Paulina to remind us all that the station was closed, in case the signs on the trains, the flyers they've been handing out all month and the big green fence with "Closed" signs all over it weren't enough. They even had the customer service reps from Addison out on the street -- or at least, that must be why nobody was at Addison to help K out when her U-Pass stopped working.
Unfortunately, no one told the Red Eye guy, so no celebrity gossip and quick local news bites while we all waited for the trains at Addison ... and waited to get through the new southbound bottleneck at Belmont and Fullerton.
The Addison station gives a glimpse into the clean, well-lit and spacious station we can look forward to in a year. And now we can watch as they slowly tear down and rebuild Paulina -- since we get to pass by it each day.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Mine eyes have seen the grime
last month I finally got contacts. This may seem rather vain and materialistic for me, but there is a greater purpose. We've read a lot about how people who want Lasik surgery should try out contacts first to see if you get dry eyes or other discomfort. You can always take out a contact, but surgery is forever.
This whole experiment almost ended as soon as it began. I crammed my left contact up under my eyelid somehow on the first day, then suffered through four days of headaches and blurry focus at work from all the reading I have to do there, finally taking out the contacts in the men's room at work on Friday. I went back to the eye doctor, and she gave me a different brand of contact, and suddenly, everything came together. I'm starting to wonder if maybe she made a mistake and just didn't want to say anything.
Unlike the last pair, it almost feels like I'm not wearing contacts. So now I can go about my day without many of the inconveniences of los lentes, but also without the blissful ignorance. For instance, do you know just how gross the shower stalls are in the men's locker room at the Lake View YMCA? Maybe you already knew, since you don't wear glasses, but I only just found out. At least we each get our own stall ...
But the good seems to outweigh the bad, so far. There's nothing to fog up when I pull my scarf over my nose in the cold, and rain and snow don't blind me when I walk to the train. I want to go to Six Flags now so I can ride a roller coaster without putting a death grip on my glasses.
This whole experiment almost ended as soon as it began. I crammed my left contact up under my eyelid somehow on the first day, then suffered through four days of headaches and blurry focus at work from all the reading I have to do there, finally taking out the contacts in the men's room at work on Friday. I went back to the eye doctor, and she gave me a different brand of contact, and suddenly, everything came together. I'm starting to wonder if maybe she made a mistake and just didn't want to say anything.
Unlike the last pair, it almost feels like I'm not wearing contacts. So now I can go about my day without many of the inconveniences of los lentes, but also without the blissful ignorance. For instance, do you know just how gross the shower stalls are in the men's locker room at the Lake View YMCA? Maybe you already knew, since you don't wear glasses, but I only just found out. At least we each get our own stall ...
But the good seems to outweigh the bad, so far. There's nothing to fog up when I pull my scarf over my nose in the cold, and rain and snow don't blind me when I walk to the train. I want to go to Six Flags now so I can ride a roller coaster without putting a death grip on my glasses.
Time Flies.
Remember when I used to update this blog pretty much every day? Yeah, that was back when I had a job where I mostly sat around at a computer all day waiting for something to happen. Those were the days. I had another job like that in January, but it only lasted a week. They figured out that it was cheaper to not pay me than to pay me to sit there surfing the web, waiting for them to give me something to do. At least I was all over that Heath Ledger thing when the news broke.
Anyway, back to work again, this time with no time for web surfing. I don't know how I'm going to keep up with this blog, let alone the news, online shopping or music downloads. But, working beats not having money, and being the only income-earner for the first time ever makes that more important now.
It's some what sobering to think of yourself as the breadwinner. Everything depends on you, and suddenly you don't mind so much when the boss comes up to your cubicle and, in that "I'm really trying to be nice, but seriously, you'd better" kind of way, asks if you can work late again tonight.
But, I like money. I only wish I'd realized this back in college. Maybe then I wouldn't have wasted my time wandering around the UNC Charlotte English department and taking tons of useless electives. I mean, History of Jazz was good fun, and I did got to Chapel Hill for the first time (before that mega mall in Durham killed Henderson St.), but has my knowledge of the roots of modern jazz helped me pay the bills, let alone buy an iPhone?
Shit, this post is already longer than all those "how to blog" articles tell you. And I haven't kept the subject simple and concise. What keywords brought you to this post? Charlotte? Money? Work? Phaw. I guess I'll never make a living at this.
Anyway, back to work again, this time with no time for web surfing. I don't know how I'm going to keep up with this blog, let alone the news, online shopping or music downloads. But, working beats not having money, and being the only income-earner for the first time ever makes that more important now.
It's some what sobering to think of yourself as the breadwinner. Everything depends on you, and suddenly you don't mind so much when the boss comes up to your cubicle and, in that "I'm really trying to be nice, but seriously, you'd better" kind of way, asks if you can work late again tonight.
But, I like money. I only wish I'd realized this back in college. Maybe then I wouldn't have wasted my time wandering around the UNC Charlotte English department and taking tons of useless electives. I mean, History of Jazz was good fun, and I did got to Chapel Hill for the first time (before that mega mall in Durham killed Henderson St.), but has my knowledge of the roots of modern jazz helped me pay the bills, let alone buy an iPhone?
Shit, this post is already longer than all those "how to blog" articles tell you. And I haven't kept the subject simple and concise. What keywords brought you to this post? Charlotte? Money? Work? Phaw. I guess I'll never make a living at this.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Fine Chicago Traditions
We woke up early today, by which I mean we actually got up when the alarm went off instead of hitting snooze for an hour. What's the big deal?
Super Fat Tuesday! Mardi Gras Superr!
We slogged through the ice and oceans of cold water on the Chicago streets to reach our polling place in the library, where we were promptly ignored until K tried to approach what turned out to be the wrong part of the table. After getting yelled at by a guy who had nothing better to do on a workday than put on a sweater and sit behind a folding table, we registered ourselves.
In the world's most powerful democracy, we uncapped our markers and filled in the little arrows for our candidates. We then inserted our paper ballots into the paper shredder manned by a bored teenager trying to beef up his college applications with "volunteer experience."
Hours later, I sat in the Law School atrium watching election returns on a big screen, eating King Cake and drinking Corona while listening to Kanye West on my iPod and reading in the Atlantic about how the current administration has left one huge mess for whoever survives tonight and makes it alive into November.
Now we're home, sobering up and full of sugar, watching CNN en Espanol pontificate on the elections and listening to a very confused Latina trying to translate Mike Huckabee's folksy sayings into Spanish.
Truly a wonderful day, well worth waking up on time for.
Super Fat Tuesday! Mardi Gras Superr!
We slogged through the ice and oceans of cold water on the Chicago streets to reach our polling place in the library, where we were promptly ignored until K tried to approach what turned out to be the wrong part of the table. After getting yelled at by a guy who had nothing better to do on a workday than put on a sweater and sit behind a folding table, we registered ourselves.
In the world's most powerful democracy, we uncapped our markers and filled in the little arrows for our candidates. We then inserted our paper ballots into the paper shredder manned by a bored teenager trying to beef up his college applications with "volunteer experience."
Hours later, I sat in the Law School atrium watching election returns on a big screen, eating King Cake and drinking Corona while listening to Kanye West on my iPod and reading in the Atlantic about how the current administration has left one huge mess for whoever survives tonight and makes it alive into November.
Now we're home, sobering up and full of sugar, watching CNN en Espanol pontificate on the elections and listening to a very confused Latina trying to translate Mike Huckabee's folksy sayings into Spanish.
Truly a wonderful day, well worth waking up on time for.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
PolarTecki
I know most of the posts lately, when I bother to post at all, have been about the weather in Chicago. Well, it's frickin cold here. What can I say? Depending on which Web site you trust, it is somewhere between 3 and 4 degrees here. The last time it was this cold in North Carolina was when mastodons roamed the Piedmont.
So what do you do when it's this cold during the day? You train the dog to use the toilet and lock yourself inside. If your dog refuses to cooperate, you bundle up and take her outside long enough to do her business, pick up the frostbitten fingers that broke off while you scooped up her you-know-what and get back inside.
We need to rethink our winter gear. We've already ordered some giant tube things that are supposed to keep our heads and necks warm, and I'm looking into some new gloves that might actually keep out the wind and cold, at least a little. Flannel-lined jeans sound like a good idea, but they look so goofy, I'm just not sure. Another day like this might soften my resolve.
So what do you do when it's this cold during the day? You train the dog to use the toilet and lock yourself inside. If your dog refuses to cooperate, you bundle up and take her outside long enough to do her business, pick up the frostbitten fingers that broke off while you scooped up her you-know-what and get back inside.
We need to rethink our winter gear. We've already ordered some giant tube things that are supposed to keep our heads and necks warm, and I'm looking into some new gloves that might actually keep out the wind and cold, at least a little. Flannel-lined jeans sound like a good idea, but they look so goofy, I'm just not sure. Another day like this might soften my resolve.
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