Leaving on a Jet Plane

So, Live 8 is coming to Philly this weekend. My plan is to stay inside my apartment and growl at everyone who comes near me, especially if they look like a tourist. (Strangely, this is also my cat's plan.) I'm leaving for LA on Sunday anyway, so I'll be the hell out of dodge for the tourist-fest that is Philadelphia on July 4th. Hopefully this won't mean that it will take four hours to get to the airport on Sunday.

Dear Tourists: Welcome to Philadelphia. Please don't touch anything Luv, Cyn.

Semi-related: So, Southwest Airlines says I can print out my tickets any time after midnight Sunday. But I don't have a printer. Do I need to print out my tickets? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of buying them online? Can I just check in at the airport with my credit card like I do with every other airline? God, why do you have to oppress me like this, Southwest?

Apparently one of my coworkers had a dream that I went on vacation and never came back. He told me about it and I was like, "Well, that does sound pretty tempting."

Man, this entry could not get any more boring. Just to prove it, here's a picture of my cat:

That is what I will be like if any Live 8 Tourists attempt to approach me.

Tired, Lovely Bones, Washington DC

Gah. I am tired, people. I can't remember the last time I got a decent night's sleep. I think it was sometime around last Friday. I usually get to sleep in tomorrow, but they randomly changed my usual night shift to a day shift and told me about it this afternoon. I'm glad to get the night off, but I had already made day time plans. Thanks for the advance notice, dudes. This is why I'm taking an hour off in the middle of the day tomorrow. (Being tired is going hand in hand with being cranky for me.)

I've been reading The Lovely Bones, which I grabbed from Emily's House Free Book Pile for the Greyhound trip back to Philly. It is, in fact, lovely, but it's also insanely sad, and the only thing that's stopping me from sobbing the whole time I'm reading it is that I'm mainly reading it on SEPTA, and I like to avoid being the crazy sobbing woman on the bus.

Speaking of Emily: I went up to Washington DC to see her this weekend, as the first leg of my Drunken Farewell Tour of the East Coast. I also got to see Christina. I managed to get from Philadelphia to the tea shop in which I was meeting Christina without getting lost at all, successfully navigating SEPTA, Greyhound, and two different METRO lines. I am very proud of me. There was much whiskey drunk, the aforementioned drunk dialing ensued, and then the next morning there was brunch and then later Em and I watched Sideways. It was a very exciting and delightful weekend.

Madli Shawl

Here is Jill wearing my birthday present to her, the Madli Shawl from the Summer 2004 Interweave Knits. Jill, if you ever doubt that I love you, just remember this: I kitchener stitched 101 stitches for you, got to the end, discovered I was 4 stitches off, un-kitchenered, and re-kitchenered. And the re-kitchenering was done on Greyhound.

This shawl was probably the most complicated lace project I've embarked on. It's certainly the largest. I am definitely relieved to have it done, and also sort of relieved that it's a gift, and I don't have to deal with the millions of tiny imperfections only I know are there. Although there was a moment when I tried it on after I finished blocking and was like, "Jill will never know if I keep this for myself." Jill, you are lucky both that I love you, and that I knew if I didn't get it out of the house I would end up re-blocking it twenty more times and it would become a Bad Scene.

Here's a (sort of crappy) picture of the stitch pattern. It was late at night, the lighting was less than perfect.

The yarn is Jaggerspun Zephyr I bought at Maryland Sheep & Wool. It's fifty percent merino wool and fifty percent silk, and it is soft and lovely and has a wonderful drape.

Jill, I know you think that Sophie hates you, but in this picture you can clearly see that she is helping me knit your shawl.

Now that I am done with Top Secret Birthday Knitting, there should be more knitting content up in this piece. Also, other Birthday Knitting Recipients, I cleverly managed to not take pictures of the stuff I made you. If you happen to end up with a photo of it and send me a copy at some point, I would be very grateful.

Drunk Dialing

Dear Everyone I Know,

I am very sorry that Emily and I called you at midnight and left crazy drunken incomprehensible messages on your voicemail. It was the whiskey's fault, I swear.

Luv,
Cyn

Read This Man's Blog

My bestest friend since forever, Adam, has finally given in to my begging and made himself a blog. I am pretty damn excited about it, because Adam is the smartest and the funniest and the most clever and has the best taste in music and the coolest, craftiest girlfriend and I want to be just like him when I grow up.

Pop Culture I Am Enjoying At the Moment

• DiG!. This is a documentary about the bands The Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre, and it's fucking amazing. It's worth seeing this movie just to hear Anton Newcombe say, "You broke my sitar, mother fucker." I am a fan of the Dandy Warhols, but I think that people can enjoy this movie even without prior knowledge of the bands. (I once saw the Dandys in concert, and they played for four hours. Just them, no opening band. Actually, I left after four hours, so for all I know they played for the next two days.) Sarcasmo, Netflix tells me you said you weren't interested in this movie, and I strongly suggest you reconsider. If you enjoy watching insanity and human degradation, you should totally check this movie out!
• The Weakerthans - Reconstruction Site. Oh man, this album is genius. It has a song called "Our Retired Explorer (Dines With Michel Foucault In Paris, 1961)" in which they name check Derrida. I am just listening to this over and over and over, which may not be such a good idea, because this album is genius and also intensely depressing.
• The Second Season of the Gilmore Girls. Oh god, this show is so good. And also very weird. And at first I really hated Jess, but now he's starting to grow on me, with the books and he's kind of cute and Dean is kind of a tool, but is he good enough for Rory? I just don't know.
• Two Awesome Knitblogs: I get really excited when either Grumperina or Crazy Aunt Purl update.

Batman Begins . . . Sewing

I saw Batman Begins tonight. It was like that movie had never even heard of irony or cynicism. But it sure was shiny.

I enjoyed that it focused on the crafty aspects of super hero-ism. Batman whittles his own little throwing bat-star things! He makes himself a bat-suit! He remodels a cave! If I was a super hero, I would totally knit myself little weapon-cozies and sew myself really awesome costumes. (Although I don't think my sewing machine has a "bullet-proof" setting. It would probably become angry and snarl all the thread up around the bobbin, as it likes to do.) If they had shown Batman knitting himself a cape or something, I totally would have forgiven this movie half of its intensely clunky dialogue. Its possible I would have refrained from bursting into giggles during some of the Big Intense Speeches, but that might take will power that I just don't have.

I wonder if Batman has a Readymade subscription.

10 Things Every Single Girl Should Have

Today Energy Spatula posted a link to this MSN "10 Things Every Single Girl Should Have" article, pointing out its rampant stupidity and asking for better suggestions. After reading the article and being filled with killing rage, I feel the need to have a go at it.

MSN Suggested Item: "1. A fabulous photo of yourself"
Why This is Totally Stupid: This is an actual quote from the article: "Post that sucker at eye level on your fridge so your male guest can't help but notice it as he checks out if you have beer (see item #5). What he says: 'Is that you?' What he means: 'Daa-aamn, girl, you're hotter than I realized!'" Okay, seriously, the hot photo is not going to trick him into thinking you are hotter when he is actually in your house looking at you. He can see you and the actual, non-flattering-camera-angle size of your ass. This is crazy person logic.
What You Should Have Instead: Porn.

MSN Suggested Item: 2. A pretty pair of heels
Why This is Totally Stupid: One of my friends just got a brand new corporate type job, and her reaction to having to dress business casual was, "Why are girl dress shoes so hurty? My feet are used to boots and sneakers and they are sad." I personally never managed to get the whole walking in heels thing down really well, and stick to platform shoes for dress occasions.
What You Should Have Instead: Steel-toed boots. Mine are pink.

MSN Suggested Item: 3. An Eminem CD
Why This is Totally Stupid: Okay, no one I date is going to be impressed by an Eminem CD ever. As an ardent fan of the crushed out mix cd, I support impressing one's beau with music, but how about music you actually like instead?
What You Should Have Instead: Neutral Milk Hotel, The Modern Lovers, The Mountain Goats, The Velvet Underground, Sleater-Kinney

MSN Suggested Item: 4. A great pickup line…and a way to blow 'em off
Why This is Totally Stupid: Um, this one is actually not too bad. While pick-up lines are kind of stupid, it is sometimes effective to have a little cute flirty routine that can lead easily to kissing. (I used to have this thing I did with the tops of beer cans that was highly effective.) And a way to blow people off is really necessary, especially if you are incapable of being rude to jerks like I am, and are forced to wait until they go to the bathroom and then run away.
What You Should Have Instead: A good friend and a secret "Save Me From the Loser" hand gesture.

MSN Suggested Item: 5. A six-pack of good bottled beer
Why This is Totally Stupid: Okay, I agree with this one, except their logic is, "Because boys like beer." What about because all civilized human beings should have good taste in beer? I knew that I was starting adult life for real when I described a beer as being, "overly hoppy." Also, there's nothing more annoying than those girly girls who, "don't like the way beer tastes" and insist on those stupid soda-beer things. Shut up and drink it, you pussy! It's an acquired taste, you'll like it by the sixth bottle.
What You Should Have Instead: Two six packs of good bottled beer, and a large bottle of gin.

MSN Suggested Item: 6. Bathroom reading
Why This is Totally Stupid: Because bathroom reading is gross, that's why. Concentrate on the task at hand, do your business, and get out. Don't multitask, for the love of god.
What You Should Have Instead: Everywhere else reading.

MSN Suggested Item: 7. A business card
Why This is Totally Stupid: Because when you have business cards printed up to give to men who want to sleep with you, that makes your "business" prostitution.
What You Should Have Instead: How about a hobby? I suggest knitting.

MSN Suggested Item: 8. Earplugs
Why This is Totally Stupid: Okay, this dude you pick up is going to snore so loudly that you can't sleep and you can't handle it for one night? And it's not going to be totally weird when you put earplugs in? Yeah, whatever.
What You Should Have Instead: A vibrator. They don't snore.

MSN Suggested Item: 9. A straight male friend on your speed-dial
Why This is Totally Stupid: Quote from MSN article: "Every girl knows she needs a gay male friend she can go to for fashion advice. But when it comes to relationship advice, you need another source. While your female friends may have good intentions, if you really want to know if you should call that guy, save the guesswork and go to someone who's been there, done that." Yes, because you are totally going to be dating a straight guy, and not a bisexual guy or a girl. Because you are a single girl! You like the fellas! The straight fellas! And the straight guys, they are all exactly the same! And there's a secret guy code that they all know! And you need to crack it! Of all of the parts of the article, this is the one that makes me hate straight people the most. MSN, you've made me hetrophobic, I hope you're happy.
What You Should Have Instead: Friends that you like for reasons other than their sex and gender.

MSN Suggested Item: 10. A condom
Why This is Totally Stupid: Okay, this one isn't stupid.
What You Should Have Instead: A box of condoms.

What do you guys think every single girl should have? Other than a blog and a lot of hate for MSN's hetronormative bullshit.

New Skin! Tiny Cartoon Me!

New skin with Cartoon Me. My awesome friend Mike (who has sneakily started updating his blog) drew the cartoon version of me. When I got his email with it, I was so excited I totally made noises only dolphins can hear. Because it's little cartoon me and it's wearing clothes I really have and EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Best thing ever!

Also, I was really sick of the martini.

The Hidden Joys of Pet Ownership

I had left a couple pairs of my knit socks out on my windowsill to dry after I did laundry on Friday. Sunday, I went to close my window and noticed that the socks were bunched up in a funny little pile, not spread out to flat to dry like I had left them. So I picked them up to fold and put away, and under them was . . . cat vomit.

My cat barfed and then hid it under my socks. That is so not right.

Dear Sophie: Please stop using tools. It totally wigs me out.

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to my Dad, who is the best dad ever. My dad has taught me how to make awesome omelets and how to drive stick shift. He is the reason I drink my coffee black and why I love The New Yorker. He taught me the joy and importance of making things, physical things that you can build with your own two hands. He can build practically anything, things like bookshelves and houses. Last time my parents visited, he not only hung up my huge mirror, but also fixed my cabinets.

All through growing up, my dad was always making me use crazy tools, like saws and belt sanders and boring machines or whatever. Mainly saws. There are many, many different kinds of saws. I was always like, "Ahh, scary noisy machine," but he always knew that there was no reason I couldn't use a band saw. He'd just go, "Don't hurt yourself, your mother will kill me." And I made it through with all ten fingers. Thanks for teaching me how to use the lathe, daddy. You were right about how there is no father on the swiss army knife and I need to learn how to hammer a nail on my own. But don't think that you're getting out of fixing up where ever I end up living in San Diego. For one thing, you've got way more tools than I do.

Puritan, Weird Meat, Naked Cats

I had the most productive day ever. Got up at 9:30 (!!!). Showered. Fed the cat. Did all of my laundry. Made some mix CDs for Greg. (Mix cds which just may be The Best Mix CDs EVER, I was totally flipping through way old stuff and ripping tons of music. He will probably hate them because there is not enough bass and not enough yelling, but they will live on in song and fable.) (Also, Liz, if you're reading this, I will totally send you a copy of the LitP mix, I am sorry I suck, email me your address, I will include a bonus mix for being a lamer.) Folded all of my laundry. Made my bed. Went to CVS and bought wet food for the cat, paper towels, dish soap, cat litter, and tonic water. Did the dishes. Cleaned the cat box. Paid bills. Took out the trash, which was insanely heavy and full and generally angry trash. (Seriously, I have no idea what was in that trash, but I'm glad it didn't decide to start fighting back, because it would have won.)

I think that's more than I usually accomplish in a month. Between that and my 12 hour work day yesterday, I'm practically a Puritan.

I was rewarded by my dinner of a huge and awesome salad for Saad's. I loved my salad so much I was seriously considering marrying it. It had pickled beets, which I adore, even though I hate regular beets. More proof of my eccentric palate. (Although my dad will probably claim it's just being a picky eater.)

When I ate meat, I loved pickled tongue but hated regular tongue, so presumably all it takes to get me to like something is enough vinegar. Yes, I ate tongue as a young carnivore, of both the pig and sheep variety. I also ate pigs' feet. I was especially fond of the pickled pigs' feet from the big jar on the counter of the Italian Market, and would happily gnaw at their rubbery flesh for hours. If they ever invent vegetarian pigs' feet, I am all over that. Also, vegetarian tripe. TVP can be a little bit like tripe, actually.

Hmmm. Sorry this entry took a huge detour to Weird Meatland, dudes.

Oh, and here are some freaky naked cat pictures. I am particularly fond of the middle one, which looks like some sort of alien feeding.

Proximity to Danger

San Diego has had two earthquakes in the last week.

This morning, a woman was shot in front of her young daughter a block away from where I live.

I am not feeling super safe right now.

Book Meme

Clap Clap Blog has tagged me for the Book Meme. So, here we go.

Total number of books I own:
Oh my god, I have no idea. Is this just books in my apartment? Does this count the many, many books I left in my parents house, including lots of dreadful science fiction novels I read in Junior High School? Let us just say More Than Enough and move on.

Five books that had a big influence on me:
The Weetzie Bat Books, by Francesca Lia Block. Amazing young adult fiction that I actually didn't read until I was at least seventeen. These are these sort of magical realist fairy tales set in L.A., and they're just beautiful. She has this way of setting moods by describing things that is really fantastic. I cannot wait until my small cousins are old enough to read these. Block takes things like queer kids or eating disorders or child abuse or whatever and sort of recontextualizes them with these fairy tale themes and it's just amazing.

Babel Tour, by A.S. Byatt. This book is like, a million pages long, and Byatt has this intense, detailed, thick prose style, it's crazy. I bought it at a yard sale in college and I had this week where all I wanted to do was sit in my dorm room and read this book. It was seriously all I could think about until I finished it. Byatt's writing style is really different from most modern writers, it feels sort of more traditional and detailed. She definitely comes from a sort of classical education background and is very informed by traditional narrative structures. She has a great book of essays called On Histories and Stories that talks about how her work is influenced by, well, history and stories. But she's also very post modern. I read her work, and I'm just like, "Goddamn, this woman is insanely brilliant, and she knows everything." There is just so much stuff in her writing. So many allusions to history and culture and art and I don't even know what. The Victorians, a lot of the time.

Love, Death and The Changing of the Seasons by Marilyn Hacker. A sonnet sequence about a lesbian love affair. Marilyn Hacker is the only modern poet I like, and I love her. She does things with traditional form that will blow your mind. Marilyn Hacker makes me say things like, "Read this villanelle, it will change your life." I picked this book up in a book store in Santa Monica and I could not put it down, I kept reading sonnets aloud to Adam and being like, "Listen to this! Listen to this, it's so great!" Also, many of the sonnets are dirty.

Valencia, by Michelle Tea. This really could be any Michelle Tea books, because every Michelle Tea book is kind of the same book, and the plot goes, "I had a shitty childhood and used to be a hooker and also I'm a lesbian." But I'm okay with that. The thing about Michelle Tea books that gets me, other than that they're good, is that they all talk about this community of sort of radical queer artsy lesbians, and it always makes me wish that I was part of that kind of community. Also, I like that she just writes books about her life. I can't really describe why. Also, I bought The Intricate Corruption of A Girl in America at Giovanni's Room when I was visiting Philly looking for a place to live, and read it while I was staying at the youth hostel on Bank Street. Awwwww.

Mythologies, by Roland Barthes. Oh, I love this book so much. I know it's totally pretentious, but it's also just so ridiculous and funny. I love how he talks about why mountains are bourgeois. I love the way he talks about symbolism in strip clubs. (Like you would know, Roland.) I like to make up imaginary lovers quarrels between Roland Barthes and Michel Foucalt in my head. I don't know why I am filled with intense fondness for a funny little dead queer French post modernist, but I am and that's just the way it is. Plus Mythologies is about a billion times more accessible than S/Z.

Last book I bought:
I think it was when I ordered I'm Not the New Me, Loop-d-Loop and A Gathering of Lace from Amazon. The last two are knitting books, I don't know if they count or not. Anyway, I recommend both I Am Not the New Me and Loop-d-Loop quite highly. I like A Gathering of Lace okay, but all of the patterns in it require approximately one billion yards of laceweight yarn.

Last book I read for the first time:
I just finished reading Best American Short Stories 2004. I usually like the Best American Short Story collections, but this one didn't really do it for me. I loved the Best American Essay 2004 collection.

Five other bloggers to tag with this meme:
Oh god, I don't know, do it if you want to. I am suddenly filled with shame over how pretentious this entry turned out. Pretend I never said anything about Roland Barthes, okay?

More Tales From the Bus

1. Thanks, SEPTA, for having the bus detour all crazy but not telling anyone where it is detouring to. Your lack of signage are why I walked to Broad & Walnut, 12th & Market, and 12th & Walnut before finally catching the bus at 11th & Walnut. Once I caught the bus, it went down Walnut for a block, turned up 12th, drove down Sansom to Broad, drove down Broad to Spruce, and finally turned back up to Walnut around 20th. Hey, no wonder you're not putting up signs! I realize the entire goddamn town is under construction for some reason, but could you maybe put up some signs? Or have the detours available when I call your phone number?

2. Yesterday. The girl in front of me is wearing a bag from the Penn business school. She sits down, and opens up a book with an upside-down pentacle on the front of it. I glance over her shoulder to try to figure out what she's reading, and catch the word "rites." This confirms exactly what I have always suspected about business students.

Jonathon Richman

I saw Jonathon Richman (Of the Modern Lovers, if you didn't know. And if you don't know who the Modern Lovers are, I suggest that you reevaluate your lifestyle.) at the Khyber last night.

Jonathon Richman was funny, charming, and a little nutty. So, really, exactly what one would expect. He played a really good mix of old and new stuff, which I was impressed by, since he must have about fifty million songs to choose from. Songs I particularly enjoyed: Pablo Picasso (for some reason he sang this one with a weird slurred voice), Vincent Van Gogh, I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar, Let Her Go Into the Darkness, Salvador Dali.

The downside was that the show was sold out, and with our million degree weather and 110% humidity, the Khyber was a stinking hellhole. I was reflecting on this, as I felt my entire body become coated in sweat, and thinking of other Khyber shows that had been similar hellhole-like experience, when I realized that it's not just the Khyber. Every single indie music venue in Philly suffers from a tragic lack of air conditioning. The Unitarian Church, while it has awesome all-ages shows, is basically an un-air-conditioned basement full of high school kids. The Troc has no excuse except being totally ghetto for its lack of ventilation. Why can't I see an indie show without ending up covered in sweat?

Jill, Mac & Cheese, Weather

Happy Birthday to Jill, who is one of my favorite people. I don't know what I'm going to do without her when I leave. I seriously call her like, once a week with some random question. Jill is like Google, only more fun to hit on.

I made Mac & Cheese from the box tonight, and threw in everything in my refrigerator. (Except Milk, which I am out of.) It's gross, but I am trying to conserve funds until Friday when I get paid. Two kinds of cheese, some tofu, and hot sauce, and it turned out really yummy in a trashy kind of way.

In case you were wondering what the weather is like in Philly, the answer is fucking disgusting. It's insanely hot and humid and unpleasantly like being constantly licked by a large dog. With my tragic lack of AC, I am spending all of my time on the couch with the fan pointing directly at me. It can't be like this forever, right? I mean, it's going to cool down soon, right? RIGHT?

Vacation

Well, I've bought my plane ticket and I will be in LA/San Diego from July 3rd until July 11th, hopefully finding myself a place to live next year. (Dear everyone who keeps asking if I've found a place to live yet: NO.) So, if you know anyone who's UCSD adjacent and has a room to rent to a vegetarian and a cat, let me know. We are polite, neat(ish), and don't take up too much space.

Also, if you live in LA/SD, hey, let's hang out. Other than finding a place to live, all I have planned is eating lots of my parents' food (Their fridge always has food in it. How do they do that? Also, they never run out of toilet paper.), and sitting around watching Antiques Roadshow.

It's Official, I'm a Knitting Junkie

Last night I had a dream about knitting socks. I think there might be something in my friends referring to this as "crack knitting" after all.

Also, this Craftster Embroidery Thread has made me realize that I must learn how to embroider. Must! Immediately! Next paycheck I am totally picking up the Stitch-It Kit. I need me some subversive tea towels.

And of course, there's always Subversive Cross Stitch. I think I need the Irony Is Not Dead kit.

SEPTA Continues It's Reign of Suck

Super Creepy Subway Incident Today! In fact, I would categorize it as the second creepiest SEPTA incident ever. (The creepiest would be the time that the guy followed me from the bus at 1 am.)

So, I get on the El, and sit down in an empty seat. As I sit down, I think I feel someone touch my shoulder, but when I look back the guy behind me is sleeping in the corner of his seat. So I figured it was just my bag or something. Everything was fine until a couple of stops later, at which point the guy behind me touched/poked my back with both of his hands. Then, when I leaned way away from him and turned around to see what the hell was going on, he shoved his face way forward into my personal space and leered at me. Then he chuckled to himself and exited the car.

People, this is not proper subway behavior.

Other public transit behaviors that have been bothering me lately:

If I am in the window seat, and you are in the aisle seat, and I need to get off because it is my stop, get up and stand in the aisle so I can get out. Do NOT do that thing where you just turn your body so your legs are in the aisle and I have to squeeze past you and my ass is all up in your face. It is not fun for either of us. Especially not me. Just get up. It's not that hard. Then you can sit back down again. I mean, really, how fucking lazy are you? I can sort of understand if the bus is super crowded, but people do it all the time when it's not crowded, too. When the revolution comes, the bus seat swivelers will be the first up against the wall.

Now, for my very least favorite subway behavior (other than the following and the leering) I have drawn this diagram:

If the El car looks like this, maybe you should GET UP AND MOVE TO AN EMPTY SEAT. And then you should spend some time reflecting on the concepts of personal space and courtesy.

Laptop! Laptop! Laptop!

The laptop is back. It powers up again, and they didn't even wipe my data. They also replaced the keyboard for some reason.

So now I have no excuses for why I haven't answered anyone's email or made anyone's mix cd or redesigned this webpage. I think I'll spend the weekend holed up with my computer.

Hot

Well, it's officially summer. It was insanely hot during the day, and has cooled down a little bit but become opressively humid now that it's night. I'm sweating and drinking a gin and tonic in my underwear, strongly reconsidering my aversion to air conditioners. I've got a mosquito bite right next to my right armpit that I can't stop poking at. The cat has started spending most of her time lying as flat as possible on the floor, looking like she's melted.

Deciding to move in August was the smartest thing I've ever done. By the time I leave, the heat and humidity will totally have conquered all of my Philly love. God damn, but I hate humidity. Let's not even talk about what my hair is like right now.

You know how in those novels about the south, they're always talking about how hot and steamy it is, and it's all sexy and languid? How exactly does that work? Because when it's all hot and humid, the last thing on earth I want is another human being touching me. They're all sweaty and gross and hot and probably smell bad. Maybe it's different if you're in a swamp and there's jacaranda trees, etc.

Small Town PA

Greg lives in Annville, PA, population 4,158. (according to this website.) That would be a thousand more people than went to my high school.

I am frightened of small towns, because in the movies they're always full of Terrible Secrets and Bullies and No One Understands Me Because I'm Different. But I was also sort of curious and wanted to see some more of Pennsylvania before I left forever, so Saturday morning I got on an Amtrak train to Harrisburg.

There's a Josh Ritter song that goes:

"It's a long way to Heaven, it's closer to Harrisburg
And that's still a long way from the place where we are
And if evil exists its a pair of train tracks
And the devil is a railroad car"

That song was in my head most of the way to Harrisburg. The train was really, really nice. I had tons of leg room, no one sitting next to me, it was amazing and lush and green through the window, and I got to knit and listen to my iPod.

Greg met me at the Harrisburg train station, which is all old timey and cute. We hopped into the car and drove to the Troegs brewery, where we took a tour. I learned that beer gets filtered through diatomaceous earth, which I found exciting because diatamaceous earth is the shells of planketon! That is some fourth grade knowledge which I have never gotten to use until now. Also, I recommend the Troegenator Double Bock, it is tasty.

After the brewery tour, we got lunch in Harrisburg, which was good because I was feeling kind of dizzy. We ran into one of Greg's students at lunch. Everyone, I would like you to take a minute and imagine randomly running into your middle school Spanish teacher . . . holding hands with me. I like to do this sometimes, and I never fail to find it amusing. Except instead of me, I imagine some other inapropriate funny-hair-colored girl. Teachers have secret lives, y'all!

After lunch, we drove out to Centralia, which I have already told you about. I always think of small town/country life as being really super isolated, but there's actually a hell of a lot of people and things out there. I think it's probably way easier for Greg to go places like Target and Best Buy than it is for me, since all of those stores are in the burbs and impossible to get to with public transit. Then again, there seemed to be fewer little quirky independent stores like the ones I go to, which is sort of the opposite of what you would think. It's all very green and pretty, though.

After Centralia, we drove back to Annville. I helped him set up his new Mac. He now has a bigger hard drive than I do (80 GB! I am so jealous!) which is just not right. Also, his last computer was from like, 1998, so welcome to the future, Greg.

The next morning, we hung around Annville, got some lunch in Harrisburg, and then I got back on the train and was home around 6:30 pm. With the train and the small towns and Centralia and everything, the weekend felt kind of like I was going to another time. I'm not sure I'd want to live there, but it was really nice to visit.

Centralia

In Centralia, PA an underground mine fire has been burning since 1962. It was started in a strip mine that had been turned into a land fill, and has been burning ever since. I can't resist a mine fire, so I checked it out this weekend.

This is the general scenery. The area surrounding it is insanely lush and green, but the area directly effected by the fire is brown and grey and has lots of toppled over dead trees.

Smoke vents up through the ground. This was a fairly large plume, there were many smaller ones scattered about.

This spooky church was on the hill across from the fire. From far away it looked really cool, with its blue domes standing out against the green of the hill. The zoom on my camera was too crappy to take a decent photo, so we drove up close to it. Once we got there, we discovered that there was definitely something going on inside; there were lights on, windows open, etc. However, no one was parked around it.

I sort of expected Centralia to be boring and dead looking, but it wasn't. The surrounding area is insanely green and lush, and there are scattered houses that people are still living in even very close to the fire. There's a part where we didn't go, where the highway has been closed because of the fires, and that part looked a lot more burnt and dead. (We didn't go in because of the big sign that said, "Do not go in here, you could fall into the ground and die.") But even very close to the smoke vents, things were still pretty green. It was an unreal landscape.

Don't Let Her Talk To the Robots

My cat, who has been sitting in my lap while I look at the internet, suddenly hit the keyboard a bunch of times with her paw. She brought up the start menu and scrolled through it.

She's learning to use technology, people. This can't be good.

This Is Not A Blog Post

Has anyone else wondered why this blog has suddenly become a photo blog? It is definitely not because I have started living a Secret Life full of Secret Thoughts and Secret Knitting. (Okay, the Secret Knitting part is true. Too many of my friends have birthdays in June, and the only way I will finish my birthday presents in time is if I first knit a time machine.)

Tomorrow, I will post all about my weekend trip to Parts of Pennsylvania That Are Not Philadelphia: Harrisburg! Annville! Lots of Towns That Blend Together! CENTRALIA! There will be pictures.

In the mean time, it is ungodly hot, and my roommate is gone for the week, which means my apartment is officially a No Pants Zone. The cats are totally with me on this.

Septa Sucks

This is what I found at my bus stop yesterday. In case you can't read the signs, they both say there is a detour. But one of them says the detour is from 6:30 pm to 12:30 am. The other one says it's all night long. I discovered the sign at 12:24 am. The next bus was supposed to come sometime between 12:25 am and 12:35 am. It would have been 12:30 am by the time I walked to Market st, where the detour was running. So, what would you do?

I waited until 12:45 am and then took a taxi home. You own me ten dollars, SEPTA.

My Own Digital Jesus

This crucifix made out of old computer parts is hanging off the side of an apartment building near where I live. I don't understand it, but I dig it. I don't know if you can tell from the picture, but there's definitely a sort of stylized person shape on the cross, with a cd-drive for the head, and tin foil or something around his waist, where usually he has that diaper thing.

I Heart West Philly

Saturday, Greg and I went to Fu Wah on 47th & Baltimore and got Tofu Hoagies. Then we ate them in Clark Park, where the drum circle guys were very envious of our awesome sandwiches. We stopped by The Marvelous Record & Comic shop on 40th & Walnut and I bought some comics (The Witching, Bite Club, The Escapist), and the new Sleater-Kinney album. We got caught in a rain storm, and so we stopped and drank coffee at Metropolitan Bakery, where I got the adorable mocha pictured above and I read my comics.

This is why I don't want to move. I'm only a punch in my frequent buyer card away from getting a ten dollar credit at The Marvelous, people! I can't move now.