Eat, Drink, & Be Merry: Part II

I got a pot of coffee in, and I'm back in the saddle for part deux. I covered eating and drinking in my previous post, and in this second one, I'm gonna get to the the merry-making. We spent a lot of time traipsing all over Chicago this past weekend, seeing and doing things we've never done before. The reason it warranted a post all it's own is because the city put on a happy face while Mom and Ross were here, and I've got photo evidence to prove it.

Anish Kapoor's Cloud Gate, otherwise known as "the Bean."

When we left the apartment Saturday morning, we had every intention of walking to the Field Museum. We were off to a good start, I think, until we realized we had no idea where we were going. The rain was coming down in sheets and I was making my way through the streets bent over at a 90-degree angle to keep the wind from blowing me back across the Chicago River. As time passed by and the maelstrom subsided, we threw our hands up and settled for a tour of the city instead.

After living here for all of four months, Phil and I had yet to go check out the Bean in Millennium Park, so it was a happy accident that we came across it. We stumbled upon several parks along the way, but this was one photo-op I couldn't pass up.

Once we oriented ourselves and took back control of the day, the four of us decided we would go check out Wrigleyville and see what kind of action was brewing in a part of town Phil and I rarely visit. As we wandered, I made a mental checklist of all the food I was going to eat (and where) in the years to come. First on the list is La Tacorea, a restaurant specializing in Asian-Mexican fusion, something that only previously existed in my wildest dreams. Well played, Chicago...well played.

Later in the evening, we made our way back home on the Riverwalk. While strolling around, all fat and happy-like, I realized how much prettier the city is when it's wet. The streets practically glittered, to my mind, and this made it all the easier for me to pretend I'm living some sort of story-book fantasy.

Just derpin' around like it was all made for me.

The Awesome captured is directly proportional to the amount of purple lighting in any given photograph. 

These next photos are of Gajin Fujita's Chi-town (2012). I've been to the Navy Pier several times since we moved here, but this was my first time seeing the graffiti-style mural on lower Lake Shore Drive. It's so well-done, and I really envy (and admire, but mostly envy) Mr. Fujita's talent. I honestly can't fathom how someone can exercise so much control with a can of spray paint. I struggle to replicate some of these effects with a pencil, and that has to be the most user-friendly medium on Earth...but I think I'm saying more about my own capabilities than his, at this point. I'll let his work speak for itself.

It's bittersweet when other people are THIS MUCH cooler than me.

But I better get used to it...

Eat, Drink, & Be Merry: Part I

I wanna state right off the bat that goodbye never gets any easier! Phil and I dropped off Mom and Ross (my stepdad, but more aptly, a great friend and confidant) in Franklin Park this morning. After all sorts of hugs, kisses, and tears, it was time to part ways. It's hard to be too sad when you've had such a fantastic time together, but it's always tough to see them go. 

Because Phil and I won't be able to make it back to South Carolina for Christmas this year, our Carolina Christmas came to us (albeit, a little early). Mom packed a boxful of homemade baked goods, some canned veggies from their garden at Clay Heels, as well as a couple of bottles of Ross' muscadine wine (made from local Scuppernong grapes). 

They were kind enough, too, to bring us some coffee from the Leopard Forest Cafe in Travelers Rest. I don't care how much you love Starbucks, this is the finest coffee I have ever had the pleasure of drinking, and if you ever find yourself in up-state South Carolina, it's a must. 

We got into the Christmas spirit by popping in a jazz CD (yes, I still own CDs) and putting up the tree. It's a little bitty thing, but it suits our purposes nicely, and once it was up, it was of course time for the photo-shoot.  Phil loves photo-shoots. I especially like this picture of us because it looks like he has a halo, and it's not immediately noticeable that I'm sucking in like my life depends on it. I don't even think I was breathing when this was taken...

Oh, yeah...the tree. Pretty, huh?

I promised myself I would cook a goose for Christmas dinner, but when I saw the $60.00 price tag, I chickened out (no pun intended, it just happened that way) and went with a $17.00 duck instead. I'm happy I did, too, because after four hours (and 18 minutes, but who's counting?) of tender loving care, it turned out beautifully. And it didn't taste too bad either! Mom also made some homemade rolls, and we whipped up a white chocolate pumpkin cheesecake for dessert, but I'm being pretty generous in giving myself any credit on that.  I mostly just crushed up gingersnaps for the crust and made a run to the grocery store to pick up the vanilla extract. I'm Ms. Reliable in a crisis...

All of these things made for a great Christmas dinner, and Ross' wine really tipped the evening over into awesome. You know you're enjoying good food with even better company when opening presents is only half the fun. I was overwhelmingly grateful for the knit scarf and goose-down jacket this morning, and they couldn't have come at a more perfect time. After being on her best behavior all weekend, Chicago dropped down into the 30s...

Yes, this is Duck.

Red, White & Blue

Dear Kirste,

11:46 a.m.

If you're reading this, it's likely 2016 already. I'm watching the news right now, much as it drives me crazy, and history is unfolding without us. President Obama is holed up in a shoebox of his own somewhere in the city, and he's awaiting the results of the election, just like me. He voted early, on October 25--and you, Kirste--YOU could have gone out and invalidated the President's vote had you registered in time. But you didn't, and shame on you for that...

I mean, you moved to Chicago way back in July! You had plenty of time to get registered. You even had time to send for an absentee ballot in Missouri, but you waited too long. You didn't realize you had to register 28 days before the election, or that you could only apply for an absentee ballot through a tedious process of snail mail communications with the Old Country...

Your first impression of Chicago politics was probably made when the Teacher's Union went on strike in September. You got a chuckle out of the circular firing squad formed by Mayor Emmanuel and the Union leaders, but it wasn't really funny. Earlier in the summer, you walked past picketers outside the Hyatt, too. You even read a proposed amendment to the Illinois constitution...but your voice wasn't heard, not this year. Sure, it's blue Chicago, and your red vote probably wouldn't have amounted to much, but that's not the point. You had Principles to uphold, and you failed to uphold them! Dead folks all over Illinois took the time to go out and vote today, and you--a living, breathing citizen of the United States of America--couldn't be bothered.

1:00 p.m.

"THOUSANDS OF VOTING CONTROVERSIES REPORTED NATIONWIDE ON ELECTION DAY," the news is telling me. Big surprise. You'll have to let me know whether the headlines have changed by 2016.

2:10 p.m.

"OHIO VOTE COULD BE PIVOTAL," they're telling me. Remember that? I bet it's true every election.

Meanwhile, in other states...

"EPA approves measure allowing biofuel providers to divert supplies to New Jersey to alleviate shortages caused by monster storm Sandy...barge bearing 17.6 million gallons of fuel is expected to arrive in New Jersey by Thursday...New Jersey senators Frank Lautenberg (D) and Robert Menendez (D) requested the move."

"Gay Marriage and marijuana legalization on the ballot in some states...Maine, Maryland, and Washington are voting on whether to legalize same-sex marriage, while Minnesota is voting on whether to ban gay marriage...Washington, Colorado, and Oregon could become the first states to legalize recreational use of marijuana."

As a staunch fiscal conservative, this is the first election I've felt I have an actual stake in. Same-sex marriage and the legalization of marijuana were things I had strong opinions about when I was a teenager, but in recent years, those subjects have found their way onto the back-burner. I'm still pretty moderate where social issues are concerned. Live and let live, that sort of thing. It'll be interesting to see if any Firsts occur today, though.

6:50 p.m.

Polls are closing from east to west. There are only ten minutes left to vote in Chicago. I've been checking the news intermittently, and it looks as though the electoral votes are 3 for Obama and 49 for Romney. Only 270 are needed to win, but I am not so naive as to get my hopes up. There's a long way to go yet. It's almost like a sporting event...

7:15 p.m.

Just 25 minutes later, the electoral votes are 78 for Obama and 82 for Romney. It looks like it's going to be a close race. Do you remember how exciting it all was?

8:31 p.m.

The candidates are tied up on electoral votes (153 each), and that's including Texas. You'll have to excuse my pessimism, but all hope just dried up. On a brighter note, I crocheted an infinity scarf and started a new painting while watching the news. So pat yourself on the back, Kirste. You did something productive today, after all.

I think I'll go ahead and accept the inevitable: Obama is going to be re-elected. It's not a terrible tragedy, but I can't help feeling a little disappointed. I certainly don't hate the man; in fact, I kind of like him. He's wily and charismatic. I just think he's wrong for my country.

Wherever you are when you read this, I hope you registered to vote already. Don't forget to write back.

Sincerely,

A younger, dumber self

P.S. Tell Phil he sucks too. For all the same reasons. :)

A Blast from the Past

Phil and I got up bright and early yesterday so we could be at the Museum of Science and Industry by 7:30 a.m. We bought tickets last month for a tour of the German U-505, and first on our schedule was breakfast with a few volunteer navy vets from the '50s and '60s. These men were kind enough to come in on a Saturday morning and answer whatever questions we had about the submarine over coffee and donuts.

The U-505 at the Museum of Science and Industry.

I don't think I'll reiterate ALL the facts and tid-bits I picked up yesterday, just the few that left me reeling. I'll start with a picture I took of the sleeping quarters.

Now, I don't know how well you can see through the hatch, but there are a series of bunk beds lining the walls, and  between them is a 3,200 pound torpedo. It took roughly 60 men to operate the submarine, so it was two to a bed at any given time, and did I mention that water was in such short supply that showers were totally out of the question? Not only were these German sailors sleeping in four hour shifts, they were rooming with dozens of unwashed men, legions of lice, and several hundred pounds of explosives.

This image gives you a better idea of how big the cots were.  They're 67 inches in length and were likely a tight squeeze for the grown men expected to sleep there (and like it).

Moving on down the line, we pass by what can only loosely be described as a kitchen. Consisting of three hot-plates and an oven that is literally the size of a shoebox, I feel it necessary to remind you that these appliances were meant to accommodate no less than sixty men.

Because we were in such small confines, it was difficult for me to get a coherent photo of the control room that followed the galley. There were so many buttons, levers, and valves that it was difficult for me to believe that anyone could operate it, but operate it they did,  and oftentimes in the dark. The valves and cranks are of so many varying sizes and shapes for the express purpose of being recognizable with little to no visibility. It was of such necessity to conserve battery-life that only the most important instruments were dimly lit when submerged. Hopefully the photo below will give you some idea of what a perfect mess the whole thing was.

To give you an even better idea of how cramped we were, I've included a photo of Phil and I in the control room with five other people.

This is all the more space we could fit between us, and we were unable to move from this spot until someone else exited the control room.

As the tour moved on through the boat, we came next to the diesel engine room:

We were told that the temperature in this room would, at times, get upwards of 110 degrees. The extreme heat, coupled with the stench of unwashed bodies and cologne (which failed to compensate), made for harsh living conditions aboard the U-505.

In contrast, American submarines of the same time period came equipped not only with air conditioning, but with ice cream machines, and the differences didn't end there. American ships boasted not one, but two galleys, along with 70 beds (for 60 men). The most noteworthy difference, however, was that an on-board septic tank was provided for American sailors, while their German counterparts tended to relieve themselves in buckets that were emptied only when the submarine re-emerged...

I really didn't think it would be this hard to condense all the information we were given into a simple blog post, but I think I'll have to go ahead and take you outside the U-boat and talk about the weapons it carried before I develop arthritis.

The U-505 was armed with 22 acoustic torpedoes which responded to sounds characteristic of enemy ships in the water. They were guided by sonar to their intended targets at speeds of approximately 30-40 knots, and they could travel as far as six nautical miles once fired. And the price tag on one of these babies? A mere $10,000.

The ship was equipped, too, with an anti-aircraft machine gun on deck. Extra men were brought on-board the ship in anticipation of heavy losses when firing from the conning tower.

...and for all the information I've included here, there's even more I'll have to leave out! If I learned nothing at all yesterday, I did leave the museum with a better understanding of how much havoc was wrought by these machines on Allied forces in the Atlantic. It's sometimes difficult in a museum setting to bear in mind that these things were operated by real people and that they played a pivotal role in world history. Where I walked and snapped pictures, men once ate, slept, and administered war.

It blows my mind.

I Heart October

There's a beautiful day outside my door.

I don't think there is any place that's ugly in October. I spent the first twenty-two years of my life in three places that have played a large part in making me who I am: small-town Missouri, rural Georgia, and upstate South Carolina. For these three reasons, I moved to Chicago with a pair of indignant, country-loving lenses on. I didn't anticipate the different kind of lovely I would find in the city, but October has amazed me again this year.

The sky is blue, the air is crisp, and the leaves are turning. After walking the dog this morning, I trekked downstairs with The Book Thief in hand and spent a few hours on the River Walk. I don't know why I was surprised, but I found a person on every bench with exactly the same thing in mind...

That's what October does to people. Not only is it gorgeous, but it brings with it a number of things we forget to look forward to after the excitement of more notorious holidays at year's end. Everyone forgets about pumpkin lattes, wheat beer, corn mazes, apple cider, and scary movies until they sneak back up on us. It's an entire month made up of the Small Things that make our lives imperceptibly richer.

...and my birthday happens to be in October. I like to think this hasn't swayed my opinion at all, but I have my suspicions. I don't suppose it really matters in the grand scheme of things. Besides, is there another time of year when the city of Chicago dyes its fountains orange? I think not.

So maybe there aren't any of Missouri's rolling hills, and you won't come in with Carolina clay on your heels after a day outdoors,  but you can experience all manner of amazing things here. Even if city-lights have replaced the stars and the riverbanks are poured concrete, I still say it's lovely in its own right, and I'm sticking to my story. :)

500 sq.ft. of Awesome

I think, for my first entry, some introductions are in order.

I'll start with Woodstock (a.k.a. Wood, Woody, Dog, etc.):

In all his splendor.

Wood and I have been friends a long time. He was given to me by my mom for my fifteenth birthday. Being the fattest of his litter, he was the clear choice for me, and as soon as he was old enough, mom brought him home with her one evening after work. We've shared many a misadventure since then, and after bouncing around the continental U.S. for the last five years, we've finally settled down in Chicago, Illinois.

The photo above is one of my favorites of him, and even though it's only a few months old, it's a tad misleading. Shortly after moving to Chicago, Wood developed a limp which we later discovered was caused by a malignant bone tumor. To prevent the cancer from spreading, we decided to go ahead and get his right foreleg amputated. He's in the recovery process now, and I'll be sure to follow-up on his progress in subsequent entries. 

Home from the hospital on October 6. Happy birthday to me. :)

But enough about Woodstock. It's time to introduce Phillip (a.k.a. Pil-lip, Pip, Pipop, etc.):

Phil and Phil's hair.

Phil's my sweetheart, my boyfriend, my best guy, and a number of other things (most of them flattering). Originally from South Korea, he and his family immigrated to the United States when he was nine or ten years old. By the time Woody and I stumbled upon him, he'd been living in Charleston, South Carolina for a number of years, and the rest, as they say, is history...almost three years of history to be semi-accurate...

Maybe Phil's intro is a little underwhelming after Wood's, but my fingers are getting tired and I still have one person left to introduce, so forgive the brevity. These people (yes, Dog's a person) are the cohabitants of my 500 sq.ft. slice of Heaven (pictured below), and my purpose in sharing them with you is to provide some faces to go with the names that will likely resurface again and again and again.

The living room/bedroom (a.k.a the only room).

And that leaves only one: yours truly. If you don't know already, my name is Kirste, but I'll talk about myself plenty in entries to come. Suffice it to say that, since moving to Chicago, I've become a student (sometimes), a painter (other times), and a live-in girlfriend/chef/maid (at all times). 

I think that about sums it up. More later...