Where fun goes to die:

After reading the Supreme Court described as "the place where fun goes to die" I decided to see how associated with the University of Chicago the phrase was, so I googled it. Interesting results:

1) A page almost entirely in Italian, but inculding the English phrases "University of Chicago," "Regenstein," "UoC: where the squirrels are cutter than the girls" and "UoC: where fun comes to die."

2) This article from the Daily Princetonian. 24 weeks of classes, 9 day long reading period? Damn, I sure did go to the wrong place.

3) Posts from prospies on message boards worrying about whether the U of C is in fact the places where fun comes to die.

4) And of course, the Wikipedia entry for U of C.

About 90% of the high ranking google hits for the phrase were related to the U of C. So the correlation seems fairly strong. I think it's kind of inaccurate, though. I had a lot of fun at the U of C, despite the work. Sure it sucks when you have two days to read 200 pages of Marx (the Communist Manifesto isn't so bad, but some of the other stuff...), but after a few weeks you usually figure out what doesn't have to be done (90% of the reading for discussion classes) and what can't be started at 11pm the night before it's due (a Physics 141 problem set). There's so much to do in Chicago and so many really cool (and brilliant) people at the U of C that I don't know how you can't have fun if you try.

Just in case any prospies are reading this, unless you're looking for a place with a vibrant frat life or a pre-dentistry program, don't let the reputation throw you off.

Short Vacation:

I've been back in DC this week. I worked three days, 25.75 hours, and decided that three days was about my ideal work week, but maybe more like 6 hours a day than 9. I have today off as a federal holiday. I also had Wednesday off because my household goods were finally being delivered. They were moved the day I came up here, probably around Nov 10 (I'm too lazy to look up the actual day). So about 50 days later, they are finally in my apartment. Not like unpacked or anything, but here. It's a start.

I built my last piece of Ikea furniture today. It a very simple small desk, really more like a table. I didn't even attach the keyboard drawer (yay, laptop!!) so the whole process took about 20 minutes.

Traditions:

My family has our own collection of Christmas traditions. One, which is apparently older than I suspected since tonight my mother told me about doing this in Parma when she was a child, is driving around on Christmas Eve and making fun of other people's tacky Christmas lights. This was a pretty good year, what with the giant inflatable snowman families (and this is something that must be seen to be believed, so either you know exactly what I'm talking about or you can't possibly understand) and the people in our neighborhood who elected, for reasons known only to them and God, to put red and green neon signs with a cursive "Season's Greetings" in their windows. We're talking, one sign in every window on the front of the house. And, I mean, Season's Greetings? I have never met a Jewish/Muslim/non-religious person who would inflict that particular brand of crap on her neighbors. Somehow, the PC-ness just makes it even worse.

We went to the 8 pm Christmas Vigil, another tradition, though we've been going to Midnight Mass more recently. I remembered why. I really hate the readings at the Vigil. I mean, the Paul is just Paul, but you get St. Paul at all the Christmas Masses, so whatever. But you miss the beautiful Isaiah, "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light" and the peice you get in return is all right, "For Zion's sake I shall not be silent, for Jerusalem's sake I will not be quiet" (all this is from memory, so any misquoting is my fault), but it is about hope, not about joy. Advent is about hope, the beautiful Veni, Veni Emanuel that Sudeep quoted (and which has been set to a particularly terrible tune and sung at every church all four weeks of Advent for the last 20 years) is about this waiting, this preparing. And that's what the Isaiah verse is about. Preparing the way. But Christmas is not supposed to be about waiting. We're done waiting. We now have until January 6 to be joyful. And I'm annoyed that I missed a day of that. But the worst reading at the Christmas Vigil is the Gospel. It's Matthew 1:18-25, I believe. It's about Joseph finding out Mary was pregnant and not divorcing her because the angel told him not to. First off, we heard Matthew 1:18-24 last fricking week, people. I can remember for that long. Also, though, I hate this reading because when I was maybe 12 or so, we had this priest at the church I went to. He was an old Irishman, pretty clearly an alcoholic, red-haired and red-faced and named Father Hogan. For about 3 years, my mother and I went to this Mass and got Father Hogan and he gave the same sermon, about how Joseph didn't divorce Mary because divorce was evil and no one should get divorced. On Christmas Eve! Leaving aside that he missed the whole point of the reading (Joseph didn't divorce Mary because his faith was strong, not because divorce was a terrible thing, for those of you keeping score) but talk about a great sermon to give the people who come to church once a year. This year, the sermon was given by another Irishman, Msgr. Fennessy, and when I heard his accent I braced for the worst. Luckily, Msgr. is not a good public speaker by any stretch of the imagination, but he seems to be a kind man who is reasonably aware of the problems facing the Church. He talked about faith.

Today, after dinner, we went to a movie, another Christmas tradition. We saw Spanglish. It was OK. The acting was very good, even Adam Sandler managed to make you forget that he was Adam Sandler. I wanted to cry for Berniece (overweight daughter), through most of the movie. There was a scene near the end when she's in a pool in a giant T-shirt and shorts and I thought about how true to life that was. My mother is infinitely better than Tea Leoni, of course, and I was never as self-conscious as Berniece, but I could definitely empathise. It's really hard to be an overweight child. And this has been said many times, but Flor was absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. That said, I didn't love the movie. The application essay conceit was not particularly well-done and was completely unnecessary. The ending became obvious fairly quickly and then took too long to get there. And I had no idea why John and Deb got married; there was no tenderness or residual love in their relationship. I didn't hate Deb as much as other people (I think she was completely lacking in self-awareness, but she didn't set out to be mean, not that that totally excuses her or anything), but why John, this seemingly perfect guy put up with her was beyond me. It was worth seeing, though. Honestly, it's probably worth a matinee admission just to stare at Flor for 2 hours. There are some funny bits, too. "Culpa. guilt. si, we're Catholic. we know guilt" (Cristina to John, after he asks whether they know what guilt is). "No, I'm not drunk. I gave up drinking three weeks ago. Yes, nobody noticed. That gave me hope that I was a good drunk" (paraphrased from Deb's alcoholic (but awesome) mother).

Our other big tradition is the tree, but that merits its own entry. Look either tomorrow night or Monday.

I'm back to DC tomorrow afternoon, but I'm hoping to get a chance to see T-- and N-- before I leave.

Mmm, UNIX:

So, one thing about my current job, I'm getting awesome at UNIX. It's so much more than just pine. Not that the younguns at the U of C have any idea what pine is. Stupid webmail.

Planning a trip:

So, one of the things that I can access on my internal internet at work is the State Department's page about travel to every country. So I've been reading some visa requirements and all that for my possible trip in May. Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Poland are no problem; however Russia and Belarus could be a bit of an issue (I'm not actually planning on going to all of these countries, these are just sort of all of the possibilities). So I'm trying to figure out what makes sense and what I could conceivably convince someone else to do with me. Romania/Hungary would be cool, as would the Baltic States plus or minus St. Petersburg. Southern Poland and maybe some of the Czech Republic minus Prague? Clearly I'm thinking central/eastern Europe here, but there are just too many options. Help! What can't I miss?

Damnit:

I didn't know that TAR was on at 8 tonight. And they were in Budapest, like possibly my favorite city and somewhere I've been hoping they would go since I started watching the show. It appears that they'll stay in Budapest at least a bit next week, so I can see what they do next week.

Cold:

I thought I'd left the below zero windchills behind when I left Chicago. Sadly, I was wrong.

It's not the cold outside that gets to me. It's the fact that my apartment heater can't quite keep up (it can keep the apartment at about 60 degrees, not warm enough for me). It's also the fact that my lack of blood pressure means that my hands and feet hurt in the cold. I wear silk glove liners and lined leather gloves and two pairs of socks (on my feet), and after the ten minute walk from my car to the building, my hands will ache for the next hour or so and my feet will be cold for the next four hours. And people are making fun of me for wearing gloves inside. It's almost enough to make me go eat some damn salt. Getting my winter jacket out of storage should make things better.

They did a great job sanding the streets here. I was really impressed. The sidewalks that I've been on have been pretty well salted too, though the parking lot was not so much. Still, the driving this morning was really good. So go, PG County.

Choices:

About six months ago, I made a decision. I decided to start a career at 22, and not a particularly mature 22. I decided to start working somewhere where most of my coworkers would be older and married. I decided to live outside a city, though I think I am a city person.

I don't know yet whether this was a good decision. I enjoy the work mostly, though I'm still not terribly busy. I've met some interesting people, both at work and other places. I haven't met anyone I really click with, but it doesn't mean I haven't made some friends and that there aren't people I can be good friends with. And some of my best friends were people I wasn't really friends with initially.

I miss the city so much, though. I miss crowds and energy and riding the El home late at night and delicious restaurants and interesting bars. I miss random conversations late at night, drinking tea and wine (together at last) and talking about children's books or Julius Caesar or whatever. My lease is up May 1, and I'm seriously considering moving into the city then. I'll just drive in the mornings.

And I'm not sure I'm ready for a career yet either. My main work-related goal is to get enough leave to go to eastern Europe in the spring. My coworkers go home for a week at Christmas and I'm thinking that I can't possibly take any leave. I can't get serious about career development opportunities because I keep thinking that they aren't for me. I miss C-- and E-- and being the kids at the grown-ups table, plotting about how to steal some toilet paper after our sketchy landlord stole our toilet paper. Here I'm the only young one, telling stories about the bladder of Franzia in R--'s fridge in Pierce and almost getting stuck in Canada after a 20 minute trip there. The people who heard these stories just sort of laughed uncomfortably.

So, I don't know. Maybe I can meet the other young-seeming folks. Maybe I can get 8 days of leave to go to St Pete and the Baltic States. Maybe everything will look better after Christmas.

It finally feels like winter:

P-- is in town today, and apparently he brought some Chicago weather with him. It's windy and pretty cold and we even saw some snow in the air.

In other news, I love P-- but it would have been awesome to hear that he was in town before 6:00 on the only night he's here. Oh well, sleep is overrated.

Deliciousness:

I made Adriatic-style seafood and pasta tonight and served it with Allen Scott 2004 Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc. I don't like the Allen Scott quite as much as the 2003 Babich, but it was still the best meal I'd had in months. The local Safeway didn't have ginger root and the jumbo shrimp were too expensive for me, but otherwise I followed the recipe.

BTW, for any wine people who aren't on the 30 Second Wine Advisor, you should be. They review wines that are usually between $10-15 three times a week, and you can get some great ideas. This was the first recipe I've tried, but I'm sure I'll be trying more.

On the Metro:

Don't get me wrong, the Metro is good. Hundreds of times better than systems in Atlanta or Athens (or I'm sure lots of other cities I haven't been to).

But it can't compare even to the El. Its coverage is roughly comparable, but last night I was coming home at about 10:30 at night, and I had to wait 20 minutes for a Green Line train at L'Enfant Plaza. That shouldn't happen at 10:30 on a Friday night. And don't get me started on the fact that the Metro stops running at 11:30 on weeknights.

My other issue with the Metro is sort of an asthetic one. It seems that there are two schools of subway/underground station design. Either the stations are big and grandiose, designed to impress rather than to serve (DC, Atlanta, Athens) or the stations are little and shabby, designed simply to be useful (London, Chicago, NYC, Budapest). I vastly prefer the latter. Who cares if the subway station is beautiful and big (and, unspoken, expensive)? A station whould be functional, and the money spent on building and maintaining these expensive stations could be spent on keeping service better. I like the claustrophobic stations in London (except for the Jubilee Line), too. The roaring train takes up all the room in the station, like, what else should be there?

Shallowness:

The Marines are doing Toys for Tots at work right now. A couple of mornings ago, a Marine in full dress uniform was playing with a giant stuffed dog. It was so cute. And a little bit hot.

Intelligence bills:

I don't understand why the CIA's getting such a bad rap with all the September 11 stuff. They had been pushing for years for us to eliminate bin Laden, and they warned the military about what would happen in Iraq. Don't get me wrong, there's more they could have done, but really what happened was the fault of Clinton and Bush (and Johnson's(?) executive order forbidding assassinations) and Rumsfeld, not the CIA.

I don't know enough about the bill itself to say whether I think it's a good idea or not. My gut feeling is no, though. I'm not sure why the new intelligence director is necessary (since under the current system, the heads of intelligence agencies report to the DCI, making him as powerful as the new intelligence director will be). Hunter's argument was pretty useless than, since the DCI has always technically had control over spy satellites. FWIW, though, I'm not sure that the ACLU should worry too much about the bill as granting intelligence agencies more power. I'm not sure that the centralisation is really that big a deal and spying on Americans will still be limited to the FBI. Now, there may be some specific provisions that are scary, I haven't read the text of the bill. But I think that overall the bill is more useless than evil.

Spike you loveable scamp:

We got our Christmas tree up tonight. It is anchored to the wall with picture wire and an eye hook because it fell over twice yesterday with only bricks to stabilise it. We named it Spike because it's really prickly.

Oh yeah, and it has a squeaky toy of George Bush as the topper right now. We tried to attach a stuffed bear to his back, but there isn't enough picture wire. I am so getting fired.

Pictures will follow when I get batteries for my camera. It's worth the wait.

It's been a U2 kind of day:

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if our way should falter
Along the stony pass

It's just a moment
This time will pass

In other news, I went to a good bar in Baltimore ($2 Guinness and not smoky). And this article from Commonweal was really interesting, particularly the sidebar, which describes the author's attempts to reconcile Catholicism and liberalism. The sidebar is unfortunately formatted, but it's a really interesting read.