(no subject)
So, let's say that, hypothetically, you and your mother are going to be in Egypt this summer. And let's say that because of this, you need to go to the Egyptian Consulate in Chicago to get your visas. And so you get up at five in the morning and drive three hours all the way to O'Hare Airport and then take the CTA into the city, only to discover that that you left your passports at home and cannot get your visas. Your day is now completely ruined and you now have no choice but to drive the miserable three hours back to Madison and curse yourself for forgetting those damn passports.
Or you could, you know, shrug your shoulders, say "C'est la vie", and then spend the day frolicking around Chicago, rediscovering an awesome grocery store, visiting the Art Institute for the first time and eating kickass Indian food for dinner.
That's what happened on Thursday to my mother and I, and as it turned out, even if we did have our passports we wouldn't have been able to get the visas back the same day, which means that they would have had to mail them back to us, and putting your passport in the mail just isn't a good idea. So we'll just have to go back sometime before we leave.
Other than that, it was a great day, except for the part where the weather forecast was a DIRTY DIRTY LIAR and told us it was going to rain all day when in fact it was 75 degrees and sunny, but thankfully I dressed in layers so it wasn't too bad. Although I must say that carrying around my umbrella all day only to leave it at a CTA station on our way back to O'Hare was pretty annoying.
So first we went to this jewelry store that was going out of business and got some very cheap stuff; I got four stainless steel rings colored silver, black and gold for ten bucks. Then we were going to go see the Stained Glass Museum but on the way to Navy Pier ran across the grocery store Fox and Obel, which is kind of like a cross between Sentry Metcalfe's and Whole Foods but fancier, and we remembered it from previous trips so we stopped inside and ended up buying some very delicious multigrain demi baguette and eating it with our packed lunch of guacamole, cheese, and clementines. I was very sad to have to leave, because if I had access to that demi baguette here in Madison, I would eat it every day of my life.
Then we decided to go to the Art Institute of Chicago, which was closer than the other Museum and I'd never been and neither had my mother; plus we saw a sign that said there was a special Matisse exhibit going on and neither of us wanted to miss it. It was pretty cool, although I must say for someone who definitely had drawing skills, Matisse was never much for the technical aspects of art. Next time I turn in something that looks like a child could have done it except for the very obviously thought out color combos and composition, I'm going to say, "If this has Matisse's name on it, you'd be worshipping the ground it walked on." Because really, I'm pretty
sure even I could do some of the things I saw there, and I still suck at art in relation to what I want to be doing.
Then it was time for lots and lots of Impressionism, which of course is my all time favorite art period, next to Surrealism. I was really surprised at the collection that the Art Institute has, which is quite extensive. I'd say it's at least on par with the National Gallery of Art in DC.
After that it was dinner at a lovely Indian Restaurant called the Chicago Curry House, with wonderful mango lassi and creamy vegetable kofta, and of course my mother ordered a bunch of meat dishes in her combo that didn't come with sauce so I couldn't mooch off her, though she did get a vice vegetable curry. Also, naan. Delicious, delicious naan. Well, pharata. Whatever, they're both amazing.
By the end of the day we'd walked about five miles, which was pretty damn good, I thought. Except that apparently if you eat Indian food all that walking means jackshit, because when I stepped on the scale on Friday, I hadn't lost a single pound. I was kind of pissed, but then I remembered that Indian food is delicious and suddenly I didn't care anymore.
--
In other news, I start my three week interim class on Monday. I'll be figure drawing for seven hours a day. I can't tell if I'm thrilled or terrified.
Also I'm writing a revamped version of The Frog Prince for Less Than Three Press, or maybe just for fun. I've got one chapter pretty much down, but there are seven to go and it has to be between 30,000 and 60,000 words. So we'll see how that goes.
Other than that... Nothing.
Or you could, you know, shrug your shoulders, say "C'est la vie", and then spend the day frolicking around Chicago, rediscovering an awesome grocery store, visiting the Art Institute for the first time and eating kickass Indian food for dinner.
That's what happened on Thursday to my mother and I, and as it turned out, even if we did have our passports we wouldn't have been able to get the visas back the same day, which means that they would have had to mail them back to us, and putting your passport in the mail just isn't a good idea. So we'll just have to go back sometime before we leave.
Other than that, it was a great day, except for the part where the weather forecast was a DIRTY DIRTY LIAR and told us it was going to rain all day when in fact it was 75 degrees and sunny, but thankfully I dressed in layers so it wasn't too bad. Although I must say that carrying around my umbrella all day only to leave it at a CTA station on our way back to O'Hare was pretty annoying.
So first we went to this jewelry store that was going out of business and got some very cheap stuff; I got four stainless steel rings colored silver, black and gold for ten bucks. Then we were going to go see the Stained Glass Museum but on the way to Navy Pier ran across the grocery store Fox and Obel, which is kind of like a cross between Sentry Metcalfe's and Whole Foods but fancier, and we remembered it from previous trips so we stopped inside and ended up buying some very delicious multigrain demi baguette and eating it with our packed lunch of guacamole, cheese, and clementines. I was very sad to have to leave, because if I had access to that demi baguette here in Madison, I would eat it every day of my life.
Then we decided to go to the Art Institute of Chicago, which was closer than the other Museum and I'd never been and neither had my mother; plus we saw a sign that said there was a special Matisse exhibit going on and neither of us wanted to miss it. It was pretty cool, although I must say for someone who definitely had drawing skills, Matisse was never much for the technical aspects of art. Next time I turn in something that looks like a child could have done it except for the very obviously thought out color combos and composition, I'm going to say, "If this has Matisse's name on it, you'd be worshipping the ground it walked on." Because really, I'm pretty
sure even I could do some of the things I saw there, and I still suck at art in relation to what I want to be doing.
Then it was time for lots and lots of Impressionism, which of course is my all time favorite art period, next to Surrealism. I was really surprised at the collection that the Art Institute has, which is quite extensive. I'd say it's at least on par with the National Gallery of Art in DC.
After that it was dinner at a lovely Indian Restaurant called the Chicago Curry House, with wonderful mango lassi and creamy vegetable kofta, and of course my mother ordered a bunch of meat dishes in her combo that didn't come with sauce so I couldn't mooch off her, though she did get a vice vegetable curry. Also, naan. Delicious, delicious naan. Well, pharata. Whatever, they're both amazing.
By the end of the day we'd walked about five miles, which was pretty damn good, I thought. Except that apparently if you eat Indian food all that walking means jackshit, because when I stepped on the scale on Friday, I hadn't lost a single pound. I was kind of pissed, but then I remembered that Indian food is delicious and suddenly I didn't care anymore.
--
In other news, I start my three week interim class on Monday. I'll be figure drawing for seven hours a day. I can't tell if I'm thrilled or terrified.
Also I'm writing a revamped version of The Frog Prince for Less Than Three Press, or maybe just for fun. I've got one chapter pretty much down, but there are seven to go and it has to be between 30,000 and 60,000 words. So we'll see how that goes.
Other than that... Nothing.