The weather we had all weekend was entirely charming, so we did our best to take advantage of it—at least, we did on Saturday. After the gym in the morning we biked down several streets to a farmer’s market where they sell the most wonderful lamb stew meat for seven dollars a pound, which is not bad considering it’s organic and the lambs are happy (for a while, anyway), at least as far as we can tell from the poster of adorable smiling lambs in the midst of green green pastures that stands next to the stall, inspiring feelings of vague guilt. We also bought some Honeycrisps, which are sweet as—well.

Anyway, in the afternoon we went to listen to these guys perform inside the Robie House as part of the wonderful, and completely free, Hyde Park Jazz Festival, an event that is exactly as old as our residence in Chicago. Megan, I thought of you and wondered if you would have been able to translate some of their songs for me. On Saturday evening, we did something rather decadent: we had pizza twice. Once after making a pie in our oven, and again after walking down to 57th Street, where every year on one night in the fall the stores stay open late and there are greasy slices to be had for a dollar a pop. It was a beautiful night, pizza and all, but lord oh lord do undergraduates suffer from a lack of age.

Today contained nothing worth reporting besides work and a rather delicious dunking of ciabatta in a plate full of grassy olive oil, sweet balsamic vinegar, and red chili.

…I’m beginning to think that I need to declare a moratorium on mentioning what I eat. Even I’m not that interested in it.

Ha. Just kidding. I am. But maybe I’ll spare y’all for a little while.

I ended up watching tonight’s debate at a friend’s house, on an actual television set instead of a computer (how novel), all the while drinking copious amounts of gin and ginger ale to help me swallow the posturing, prevarications, and constipated looks of superiority—which, frankly, came from both sides, though of course I was more annoyed by one source than the other.

Politics drives me fucking nuts.

That is all. I’m off to eat some cheese, now. What, you don’t think that’ll help?

…yes, I am thinking about the election. A lot. Usually afterwards I have to rinse my brain out with salt so that it doesn’t explode, and as I’ve been telling people, every time I pay too much attention to what is going on I get a small glimpse of what my life would be like if I lived it angry and upset all the time.

For that reason, I am relieved that two videos I watched today made me laugh in spite of the gut-wrenching anxiety. I’m not sure how long this embedded code will work, so play ‘em while you can. And feel free to write in with suggestions for strong drinks I can make myself on the evening of November 4th.

I find myself exhausted at the end of a long day in which I accomplished a few important things and allowed myself a few unimportant indulgences, and so there is not much time for contemplation. Still, I wanted to note here, for the record, how fortunate I feel at this moment. A year ago today I didn’t know a soul in this city I could call a friend, and now there is more than one bright spark of comradeship in my life here, more than one hand holding a glass raised high to clink against my own. It’s a good, sweet pleasure to begin to find them, these folks; the ones who will make this place kindly.

Besides which, Tom just took the most wonderful photograph of a friendly praying mantis, and that is also a good sign if ever I saw one in my life.

…please go away and leave me be to sleep.

“Less is more.”
Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, 28 Jun 1959.

Mixed together thawed frozen spinach, log of goat cheese, half a package of cream cheese. Spooned this on top of pieces of salmon. Wrapped these bundles of joy and heart attack in five sheets of phyllo dough pastry each (remembering to brush each layer of dough with butter first, plus more butter to cover the whole astonishingly classy burrito). Baked.

Ate with wasabi mashed potatoes made by Ross.

Entered coma.

Talked to Ben, while still in coma. Pretty sure he did not notice.