Last Night I Fell In Love Without You

For the past week-and-a-half I’ve been visiting my mother and sister at their home in the Milwaukee area. This isn’t abnormal at all since I usually visited them during breaks from classes or anytime I needed a break.

What is abnormal is what I keep thinking when it comes to leaving on January 4. I keep thinking that I’ll drive home to the tiny studio apartment I lived in for two years in Chicago’s Uptown neighborhood. I keep fondly thinking of where everything I own was placed, from the mirror above the tiny, old 13-inch TV, to the two large bookcases sitting side-to-side, to my bed placed up against the large windows that gave me a view of the L tracks that ran behind my building.

There are two problems with this thought, the first being that I never drove to my mother’s house from Chicago. I always either took the Metra train to Kenosha, the Amtrak from Chicago to Milwaukee, or she would pick me up and drive me from Chicago to Milwaukee. The other is that I don’t live in Chicago or go to college in Chicago anymore. I live in a township in Michigan and go to Michigan State University.

Of course, this thought that keeps going through my mind is understandable since that was habit. It is also completely understandable because I have come to accept that I miss Chicago.

I have become homesick.

Catharsis

Catharsis is what the Greek tragedians wanted at the end of the play. The word in Greek is κάθαρσις. It means to purge or clean. In this case it means a purging of emotions. 

The above comes from my notes from a class I took at DePaul University. 

Today I started a new play because I hadn’t written a play since I wrote an entry for last year’s DrekFest contest. Prior to that, my last play was a new version of Antigone I wrote, which upset a lot of people on Twitter because I argued that Creon is actually the tragic hero by the standards Aristotle lays out in Poetics. 

Antigone and Colonus had been sitting on my hard drive since then, untouched and bound to never be seen again. In January of 2011 I did a reading of Oedipus in my apartment in an attempt to try to do some development. 

While sitting in the office of a professor I had while studying theatre at The Theatre School at DePaul University, I had this revelation that I actually did more writing while I was studying biology at UIC and was more active in Chicago theatre than I am studying at an arts college. 

In this year, I’ve failed to see the plays that my friends have been involved with and only sporadically attended theater. I’ve failed to see any plays put on at DePaul and Columbia College Chicago, even though attending plays at the latter is something I should have done for my job. This afternoon I commented to my friend Zev that I swear on my battered copy of Sophocles that I’ll see The Right Brain Project’s Marat/Sade. 

(I also need to see John Conroy’s My Kind of Town at TimeLine Theatre and Angels in America at Court Theatre.)

An unfortunate problem with being raised in the theater is that I still need to be connected to it and fewer things make me happier than writing plays. I struggle with writing prose fiction because I have to perpetually be interested in the characters, which I find easier to do with a play because of how it’s written. Additionally, I genuinely believe that I am a good playwright and I’ve gotten reinforcement on that since I was in 11th grade. 

So today I opened up Scrivener and started a new play. I won’t say what exactly the subject matter is, but it does involve things I should work on in a session with a psychotherapist. Unfortunately there’s a long wait for psychotherapists in Chicago, so this will have to do for the time being so I don’t keep treating my friend in Chicago as a stand-in therapist. 

Let the catharsis through writing begin. 

No Joke, I Went Back to BlackBerry

On April 1, I became eligible to upgrade from my then-current phone, an HTC Evo 4G. I had many problems with the Evo, including its battery life, small hard drive space, tendency to put apps on that I would never use, habit of randomly deleting my data and giant size compared to my previous phone, a BlackBerry; but I did love one thing: The camera. A phone released almost two years ago had an eight megapixel camera that shot pictures of such a quality that it actually astounded people. As a journalist, I came to appreciate that the camera really helped me do more in the field.

But I was aware of the upgrade time and I decided to do research. I immediately decided that I did not want another Android phone because there was nothing about the operating system that wowed me. This left me with either an iPhone or a BlackBerry, so I began to do research.

I had previously owned a BlackBerry and became fed up with the fact that it once crashed and also wasn’t a shiny toy, but in hindsight realized what a great tool it was. It was easy to compose memos and emails on it and it was small. I could fit it easily into my pocket or a small purse. And the only time I ever lost data was when it crashed. It was easy to multitask without losing things on it and I need to be able to multitask. Also, when Advocate Illinois Masonic confiscated my BlackBerry I think it might have actually harmed my recovery in that facility.

The BlackBerry also proved to be physically durable. One day in 2009, I was walking towards the turnstiles at the Fullerton L platform when someone knocked my phone out of my hand, sending it skittering across the floor. To this day, the only evidence of that are small scratches on the top corners of the phone.

A BlackBerry seemed like the obvious choice, but I decided to research the iPhone. I was aware of the problems people had with it as well as the fact that most of the people I know who own iPhones have had their screens crack at one point. The battery life seemed better than my Evo, but still not as good as a BlackBerry. I finally decided to walk into an Apple Store in Chicago to try to have an associate sell me on the iPhone.

I explained my situation and immediately he started gushing about how cool Siri was and demonstrating it to me.

“But I could just type that in on Google,” I said.

He stared at me as he tried to think of something else to say about Siri. “You could also say ‘Call Mom,’ and she’d dial your mother!”

“So, it does voice dialing. Like Ford’s Sync system,” I replied.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a computer system in selected Ford vehicles,” I said. “What else is great about the iPhone 4S?”

“It has an eight megapixel camera!”

“Okay,” I said, nodding my head while feigning enthusiasm. The problem is that I had my Evo in my purse, which has an eight megapixel camera and has since it came out almost two years ago. An eight megapixel camera is old news for me.

“It also has a faster processer than the iPhone 4.”

This, by the way, was the only thing that seemed appealing about the iPhone 4S over the iPhone 4. I thanked the associate and then went home. On my way home, I realized that there would be two huge downsides to owning an iPhone in Chicago. One was that if my iPhone would ever be acting up, I would have to actually deal with the Genius Bar at Chicago Apple Stores. I’ve had such a horrible experience with the Genius Bar handling my precious MacBook Pro that I now take care of my Apple problems when I’m home in Wisconsin since the Genius Bar at the Wauwatosa store can take care of repairs in a timely manner and do it right the first time. Also, they’re really polite at the Mayfair Store.

The other problem is that owning an iPhone while living in Chicago would mean that I could never have my phone out while commuting unless I wanted my phone stolen. Even still, my life could be threatened by people mugging me for an iPhone, which does happen in Chicago. Since I am opinionated, smart, quiet, blunt and not straight, I’ve already encountered enough people threatening my life and wanting to ruin my career over the course of 20 years. I don’t need to add to that by owning a certain phone.

So on April Fools Day, I went into the Sprint store in Greenfield, Wisc. and purchased a BlackBerry Curve, as did my mother. I was asked by the first associate what iPhone color I wanted and then given a quizzical look when I said, “I actually came in to buy a BlackBerry.” The second associate, who was quite friendly, helped us buy our new phones that are dismissed as archaic pieces of technology that no one loves.

This is of course not true. Some of us want a phone that is advanced yet simple. Not all of us want a touchscreen phone that seems to work best as a toy rather than something to help us get work done. Some of us want a phone that will handle our natural clumsiness or the inevitable roughness of our jobs.

And in that event, an Android phone or the iPhone loses out. Maybe a flip phone is what you need. Or maybe an “archaic” piece of technology by Research in Motion is the answer.

So far, I love my new phone. It’s light, it does exactly what I need and it does it well and I don’t have to worry about forgetting to bring a charger with me to the office. In fact, I haven’t charged it at all today. I don’t care if I don’t have the cool toy that everyone else has; I’m proud that I own a BlackBerry.

Besides, Research in Motion gave us the greatest gift of all with the BlackBerry: Brick Breaker.

“Lego for Girls”

For the past two weeks there has been an uproar over Lego’s new line, Lego Friends. The line is targeted towards girls and includes characters that are vetranarians and horse groomers. The sets come in pastel colors and doll-like figures as opposed to the iconic minifigure standard with Lego sets. New to this will be books about the characters, a la American Girl dolls.

The uproar is caused by the fact that Lego is creating a line that is specifically for girls rather than saying their current sets are for all sexes and genders.

This isn’t the first time Lego has created a set geared towards girls.

I am old enough—or young enough, depending on your view—to remember when Lego launched the Belville and Scala sets, which also featured doll-like characters similar to what will be in the Lego Friends theme. Bloomberg Businessweek even put together a graphic explaining that this isn’t new for Lego. As someone who grew up playing with Legos, I never understood the appeal of the larger bricks and wasn’t surprised when the lines wound up in the Lego theme graveyard. You can still buy the Lego Beliville line from Lego’s website, but it’s a “Hard to Find” item.

However, I enjoyed playing with the large buckets of bricks that gave only suggestions for what to create. With that you could create your own stories and worlds while still following the laws of physics and engineering. My sister and I grew up with Legos, although she also played with Barbies while I found them to be boring. (I liked building, but hated cleaning up.) While once visiting the flagship Toys R Us store in Times Square I was shocked to find Lego dominated by sets that tied in with films and TV shows. What happened to originality and creating your own story on Mars or in the Earth’s crust? Lego has returned to this with their City, Pharaoh and Ninjago lines, which feels like a return to my childhood.

Although there are some who might say that this is a nice change for Lego from violent lines. Violence or crime themes in Lego sets is not new and I remember the first set I got was a knights set where the hero wore a helmet that looked like a bat head. The figures carried swords and a terrifying looking witch came with numerous sets. There were pirate sets, themes set in the Wild West, one that involved exploring Egypt.

The thing to remember is that Lego has come a long way from what it started off as with wooden blocks for creating. In a way, this is business as usual, but refined and with hours of market research poured into the development of themes. In a way, most of what Lego does now isn’t that different from when my generation was young, but our attitudes have changed.

The Perils/Joys of Being Allergic to High Fructose Corn Syrup

Back in early November, I had picked up some Toaster Strudels at the grocery store. I thought that they would be great to eat and I hadn’t had any in a while. The morning after I picked up two boxes of two different varieties, I put one in my toaster, put frosting on it, ate it and headed off to a lecture at the Newberry Library.

I then spent half of that lecture in the bathroom, feeling absolutely miserable. I headed back to my apartment, cancelled my tickets for the play I was supposed to see that afternoon, and stayed home, assuming it was the pizza I ate at a (non-alcoholic) party at DePaul. The next day, I had another Toaster Strudel (the wildberry, I think) and had the same reaction, meaning I missed one of my lectures and only went to my second lecture of that day.

I then had an appointment with my wonderful internist to check-up on my condition after I had been sick for a month. I told her about what had happened and she looked up the ingredients online.

“Do you normally not do well with high fructose corn syrup?” she asked.

“Not really, but it’s never this bad,” I replied.

She then told me to cut out high fructose corn syrup from my diet and eat probiotic yogurt. I have been trying to follow her suggestions as well as I can. I eat probiotic yogurt either everyday or every other day and as a result, I can now eat pork and beef, which used to cause gastrointestinal problems for me.

The high fructose corn syrup thing is a bit harder.

For those of you curious, I cannot consume the following: Heinz Ketchup (unless it’s organic), Oreos, Toaster Strudels, Pop Tarts, Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia Ice Cream, some jams, various breads, and popular sodas, except for the throwback soda and Sierra Mist (THANK YOU, PEPSI!). I have to check the ingredients labels on everything I buy, unless I go to Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods, where I’m now buying most of my groceries. And even when I pick up groceries at Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods I still check the ingredients list.

So now when I go out to eat, I’m more prone to ordering pasta salads instead of french Fries simply because I can’t put ketchup on my fries unless I know it’s organic. (Although a really good french fry probably doesn’t need ketchup.) I now drink water or tea when I go out to eat, although if I’m having brunch, I’m probably having tea with my meal anyway. I even had to ask at grahamwich if the sodas were made with pure cane sugar to be able to have soda with my sandwich.

I even carry Benadryl with me because I can’t always know what’s in something I’m consuming. In short, the allergy is an inconvenience in more ways than one because things I loved (see: Cherry Garcia) I can no longer have.

But I’ve discovered other wonderful things.

Lakefront Brewery in Milwaukee makes a root beer that is made with maple syrup that tastes amazing and has no high fructose corn syrup. Because of how wonderful it is and my inability to find it in Chicago, my mother brought a 12-pack of the root beer with her about a month ago. I now go to Whole Foods more often and try different things when I pick up items I didn’t/couldn’t get at Trader Joe’s. My favorite item that I’ve discovered so far are Joe-Joe’s, which are the Trader Joe’s store-brand version of Oreos. The cream for the Joe-Joe’s is made with real vanilla, and that’s what actually makes it stand out. I could list every amazing thing I’ve discovered, but that’s a different blog post. The nice thing about eating natural and organic items is that they taste better and fresher. Also, the organic apples sitting on my table are making my apartment smell quite nice.

Is my allergy annoying? Yes. Does it mean I’m starting to eat healthier? Yes. I’m actually preparing more things and eating less processed foods at the moment. And, as my internist told me today, it’s actually not that bad that I’m allergic to high fructose corn syrup since it’s not a good thing to be consuming. As I learn to get used to it, it’s something that I’ll learn to embrace even more.

Food and Memories

Behold: a grilled cheese sandwich.

A few years ago, I was visiting my grandparents in Southern California with my sister. One day, my grandfather had decided that him, my sister and I would visit Chinatown in Los Angeles. However, he needed to do something before we took the Metrolink into Los Angeles and my sister and I spent time in Downtown Upland.

After looking at the various shops, we became hungry and decided to walk into a place called Deli Zone. We decided to order a root beer float and a grilled cheese sandwich, which was swiss cheese on sourdough bread.

Sitting outside, we took sips from the float and consumed the delectable sandwich. After this trip, I then tried to find a grilled cheese on sourdough bread that came close to the taste of the one I had at Deli Zone. So far, the closest I can get is one that I make in my own kitchen using sourdough bread from Trader Joe’s and swiss cheese from anywhere.
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I identify as a native Californian and adoptive Chicagoan. I always felt out of place in Iowa and spent at least 11-12 of the years I lived there wishing I was back in California. For me, any time I eat a grilled cheese sandwich, it brings a nostalgic bliss from being reminded of Southern California, which I would move back to if I didn’t have to drive. The same thing goes with eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich made with Knott’s Berry Farm Boysenberry preserves. The latter has resulted in me searching every grocery store in Chicago that I even stand outside of waiting for the bus to see if they carry Knott’s Berry Farm Boysenberry preserves because my local grocery store doesn’t. (I eventually did find it, unfortunately it costs as much as a box of the tea I buy. But it’s worth it.)

Because of what those foods remind me of, I find preparing and consuming those dishes to be very comforting. After I’ve had a tiring day of research, lectures and homework, sometimes I just need a grilled cheese sandwich, even if it’s 90 degrees outside and the air conditioner in my apartment is on full blast.

And because of my mother’s cooking, various foods remind me of my mother or of home, such as marzipan candies or apfelstrudel or latkes. (I’m not Jewish, but when teaching my sister and I about Jewish holidays and traditions, my mother made latkes, complete with applesauce.) I would assume that if I ate homemade tortillas or hamantaschen, I would be reminded of cooking in the kitchen with my mother.

Similarly, when I eat out, certain foods remind me of good times. Crème brûlée at Lockwood makes me think of the lighting design for Spring Awakening, which I gushed over while consuming a crème brûlée at that restaurant. I associate food at Ann Sather, particularly the cinnamon rolls, with good times because anytime I’ve ever been to Ann Sather since my preliminary visit has been with friends or family and I’ve always enjoyed being with those people. When I eat at Mexican restaurants in Chicago, I tend to see if they have fish tacos because I also associate that with happy memories in my mind.

There are certain things that trigger memories of events. They can be as simple as someone mentioning a word or phrase or an action a person does. But the scents and tastes of food and their triggers are currently something that’s fascinating me.

What are some foods that you associate with memories?

Limbo

I had announced about a month ago that I was going to stop reviewing theater. I then decided that I was going to pursue something I had wanted to do for a while and get the education to become an epidemiologist. Meaning that I’m not going to have theater be my primary career field.

I’ll still write plays and occasionally write posts about theater, but I realized one day that I could not see myself spending the rest of my life working in theater.

I would like to thank the people that have been very supportive of me after I made this decision. While other people were questioning my sanity because biology and epidemiology are polar opposites of theater, my mom, sister and my friends in Chicago have been there for when I’m frustrated and they haven’t questioned my decision at all. (My mother also put it this way, “When you go to the CDC’s website often and are frustrated by the website being down, you might want to rethink your career.”)

At this moment, Fragments feels a bit in limbo. I still want to have an outlet to write thought pieces and interviews or articles on topics other than theater; that is something that still interests me, but I don’t want to do it full time. So the focus of Fragments will be more of a culture blog that focuses on music, movies, books, food, and theater. Those are all things that interest me greatly and I think I can easily write about now and then without feeling obligated to do so.

Because another problem was that I was feeling obligated to write posts for this blog and I don’t want to constantly talk about theater. It’s a very bad sign if you feel obligated to update your blog and that’s why the focus of Fragments is going to change.

I hope you continue to read this blog despite my decisions.

Thank you.

Moving!

No, this blog isn’t moving. I’m moving back to Chicago. (And not to Lincoln Park this time.)

So, while I’m packing and moving, here are two videos to enjoy. The first video is from the band Cobra Starship, whom I saw in May with my sister. The second video explains why I once did a fist pump and shouted “We’re fuckin’ AFSCME” as I passed the AFSCME offices in Cedar Falls while biking to the library. (Language in second video NSFW.)