neon epiphany

Whatever you may celebrate during this holiday season, have a happy that… again!

Chicago’s nothing if not a meat town, and lia insists I meatblog while I’m here. Not sure if I have the constitution for it, but here’s a taste:

Portillo’s Italian Beef — so bad for you, but so good! Yummm.

Also, walking into a Penzeys Spices store is simply heavenly. I had thought LUSH was the best shop-by-nose experience ever, but this has it beaten many times over (plus you don’t get sick of being alive after fifteen minutes inside). Escaped with only some whole cumin & coriander, tellicherry black peppercorns, double-strength vanilla extract and Italian sausage seasoning. Heaven help me if I have time to go back again before flying back to Seattle!

Whenever I come home, I have an overriding urge to try and photograph my mother’s lovely old canvases which hang around the house, but lighting problems and the near-impossibility of shooting glass frames without getting reflections and glare all over everything have always gotten in my way. This year, with a few acrobatic maneuvers (namely, balancing on a chair while trying to shoot from a tripod on top of a table) and a little Photoshop magic, I managed to snap a few acceptable images of some of my favorites, which I’ve assembled into a flickr photoset:

There are a few more I’d like to tackle before I go, and some beautiful pieces which I think are simply too big to capture without a ladder, so this is hardly a complete collection. But I do hope you enjoy them — I’ve never thought there was anything more beautiful I’d want to have hanging on my walls.

A wall of rain and fire to the west means I’m still stuck in New York for now — well, not stuck in New York, exactly, which would be just fine, but in the limbo that is the airport. Airports are places you’re either going-to or coming-from. There’s no such thing as being at an airport. The air is muggy and oppressive.

Sitting in a wet-hot plane for three hours on the runway, or in the wet-hot terminal, neither much of a choice — nor is spending the night at La Guardia or O’Hare. At this point I just want to feel Seattle’s cool embrace and the warmth of home. Leftovers and reruns and chores and sleep. I’d even like to be at work again.

I. Want. Destination.

In the meantime I’ve plenty of reading to chew through. Just finished A. S. Byatt’s Little Black Book of Stories, some of which left me cold but “A Stone Woman” and “The Pink Ribbon” were both affecting. The weaker stories suffer from truncation, or too much cleverness; all beautifully-written, of course. I’d forgotten how she dances in description, her joy in lists and catalogues. Also, have started A Wild Sheep Chase, which will hopefully last me until I’ve no more need of words.

I might have read three books in the whole of 2004, and twice that just in the past month. It’s like slipping into a favorite pair of shoes, familiar and well-worn.

Update, Tuesday a.m. — in Chicago. They say we can leave within the hour. Fingers crossed.

So tired.

Update, Tuesday p.m. — home!!

It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?

I’m the timid type, so when the server started getting hammered by outside linkage to the Fat Kreme Photo Essay, I figured it was best to lay low for a bit. Besides, you never can tell where the hackers are hiding.

Here we go, rapid-fire:

Movies: Le Pacte des Loups was fun. You can totally tell that Christophe Gans is a fan of Hong Kong wuxia films, and there’s a real look to this film that evokes the pre-Raphaelite movement. X2 had a lot for a fan of the 80’s books to bite into, and set up even more for the next go-round. Also, eye candy. Seriously. Identity was creepy and played with enough intriguing concepts to distinguish itself from the pack, despite uneven direction. Better Luck Tomorrow was much, much better than I was expecting.

Upcoming travel plans: Off to Chicago this weekend for some family catch-up time and other hijinx. The end of the month will see me in New York City, but probably not at Nobu. In between, the docket includes a puzzle hunt, freesia’s show, a dinner expedition or two and hopefully some quality time with friends.

Meme watch:

• Would you touch this keyboard?
• via secretkings, How male or female is your brain?
• via Anita, Sold in Oregon: Historical Oregan Trademarks

Apropos of nothing, but something pretty I came upon while web-surfing:

 
Wall-Painting of Ladies and Papyri (det.) | 17th-c. BC
(from the Museum of Prehistoric Thera, Santorini, Greece)

Finally, word is that Ginger Altoids are starting to hit the shelves again, at least in Seattle. Perhaps it’ll be a seasonal thing. At any rate, keep your eyes peeled!

In chilly Chicago, visiting the parents, just as an autumnal weather renaissance seems to be occurring in Seattle. Yesterday was brilliant, blue, sunny, warm — no jackets required. I hear similar things about today, but only from a distance; here, it’s cold and miserable.

Dad’s a doctor, so each new trip home carries with it a treasure hunt in the pile of new promotional product from various pharmaceutical companies. Pfizer seems to have been very generous so far this year, so without further ado, I present to you an abridged tour of the weird, wonderful world of Viagra merchandise:

1. A Viagra watch. Okay, next.
2. Stylish Viagra neckties. Note the little blue pills, subtle but obvious. I’m going to take these and create a decorative wall ornaments, or maybe stylish belts.
3. Yes, Virginia, that is a Viagra racing car mouse. It comes with a snazzy matching mouse pad, too.
4. Viagra. Pump. Viagra. Pump. Is this hand soap, or something… else?

Probably most distressing of all, and not from Pfizer, is this:

That’s right, a squeezy stress toy in the shape of… a cutaway prostate gland. Talk about your conversation starters.