from my brain to yours

demographics

People my age are not nearly as into Jell-o as I feel they should be.

#6 no mayo. I said NO MAYO!

To the lady who is huffing around about how "this place is just chaos!" ---

You are in a Jimmy John's at noon. What were you expecting?!

I kept hoping the prep guy would try to toss her sandwich to her, the way they do when they're feeling especially saucy.

let us embrace the homely cupcake

For the record, any cupcake is better than no cupcake. But can we have a brief discussion about the style v. substance issue? The world is getting cluttered with these towering confections, adorned with bows & ribbons and cocktail umbrellas. If I can figure out how to cram them into my mouth without getting it all over my face they are always too dry, too flavorless. Is it too much to ask for my margarita cupcake to actually taste like lime & tequila? Gimme a plate of crooked, hand frosted scrumptious cupcakes over those flashy status symbols any day. I want the working man's cupcake.

things I never thought I'd be into, but ... it turns out they are kind of rad:

*South Beach bars

*Hats with ears for babies

*Statistics

cursory inspection

Thoughts I have upon walking through my house in the morning:

• Why is this cookbook on the floor?
• Apparently the dishes fairy did not come.
• It looks like that closet is throwing up shoes.
• Ugh, 7:30 already?
• Wait, that clock says 7:28. Nice.
• Didn't I mop this yesterday?

eco science nerd fest 2010

I'm back in the sweltering STL after a week in Pittsburgh communing with my fellow eco science nerds. I know that the only thing more boring that attending a week long conference is reading someone's recap of it, but there are a few things that I feel I must note about the meetings, the venue, and the host city itself. I'll be brief.

Which way to the conference? Follow the throngs of sport sandals and hiking backpacks.

No one knows how to dress-down the already dressed-down business casual of conference attire like biologists.

How can you tell you're at a ecology meeting? When you're asking yourself "are these flip-flops too dressy?"

Also: I cannot remember the last time I was surround by so many super fit white people. It is making me wonder about the demographic breakdown across scientific disciplines. Is ecology the whitest science?

I was happy to notice that the upward trend in female graduate students and young faculty that I've noticed in my own city seems to carry across the field. But the senior scientists are still largely male. Is it only a matter of time until we all move through the ranks or are we dropping out before we get there? There are books and theses that delve into this topic, so I won't attempt to parse it here, but I remain optimistic.

***UPDATE*** I almost forgot to mention that I got to meet an internet pal in the flesh. Here's to putting faces to pseudonyms!

Pittsburgh? I salute you.

Who knew that Pittsburgh is actually kind of interesting? While I didn't get to explore very much at all, I was lucky to be staying in a B&B in a neighborhood (Lawrenceville) outside of the downtown conference-center area, so I got a small glimpse of the city on my route in. It's like an entire city made out of Greenpoint, Brooklyn. In a good way. In an 1800s-houses-with-1950s-awnings sort of way.

The best part was all of the really excellent murals and street art. Dear St. Louis-- why can't we make this happen here?

Some of my favorites:

This awesome mural is by artist John Pena. lovelovelovelovelove this. passed it every day on the bus.

This one is so excellent in person:

(mural by Brian Holderman, pic via Cardboard Sea)

And there was Shepard Fairey stuff everywhere. Maybe a little played out if you live in LA or NY, but unexpected in Pittsburgh, if you ask me.

(pic via justseeds.org)

ALSO? It was not 105 degrees there. So, that was nice too.

the bright side. very bright. and hot.

Back in the Lou for a few days, and surprise! It feels like a million Swedes opened their sauna doors in my face the minute I step out on my porch. Some people call this summer, but I call this gulag. For me, and the rest of the civilized population up there on the 45th parallel, summer is a time when you get to wear bathing suits during the day and jeans and a sweatshirt at night. Glorious balance.

But! I am happy to be home. I missed my man and my cat and I need to get cracking on this baby room and oh yeah, also all of the schoolwork that for some reason didn't get done while I was up northing lolling around on the beach. So instead of whining about how the air here feels like molasses, I will simply close my eyes, think cool thoughts, and remember all the glorious watery-ness of the past week.

Also? We canned peaches! My domesticity knows no bounds.

ode to a moon chair

Today I bid farewell to my trusty moon chair. Acquired for free on the side of the road my senior year of college, it is headed to a new home. This chair has lived all over New York City, Maine, Upstate New York, and then made the journey with us to the STL. Good little chair.

bike love

Cyclerpillar by Rebecca Wessels

Purchased by Adam at ARTCRANK for the baby's room.
I LOVE IT.

baby einstein

The books all say, "Sing to your baby!"

(even in utero)

I'm guessing they have in mind something like nursery rhymes and gentle Burt Bacharach crooning.

Instead, I've had The Whole Damn Thing by Those Darlins clanging around in my brain for the past three days, the chorus of which goes a little something like this:

I got drunk and I ate a chicken.

I ate a chicken I found in my kitchen.

Not just a leg and not just a wing.

I'd like to let you know that I ate the whole damn thing.

If you swap out 'hungry' for 'drunk', then it kind of seems like a suitable pregnancy song, if you ask me. Maybe we'll stick with that kid-friendly version once he's out of the womb.

getting on the bandwagon

1. It turns out that working from home everyday turns me into a really boring person. A boring person with nothing to blog about except my pets and I try, I really do try, to keep that in check.

So, hence the silence of late.

2. If you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all. that is why I have refrained from complaining publicly about why I have had to sort of stop reading a few of the "big" blogs that I used to follow. Most of it has to do with things getting stale, and/or everyone wanting their blog to be everything all at once. I am business person/writer/mom/designer/cook/blogger! (not that I never fall prey to that! glass houses!)

3. I fear the bandwagon to the point that it makes me annoyingly scornful. Sometimes. A lot. It is one of my character flaws. Raise your hand if you are judgmental out of deep buried insecurities!

All of that just as lead up to this, my main point. This lady over here, she does lots of things that are inspiring lots of people to go out and do their own inspiring things. It is all so optimistic and cheery & funded by advertisers that the jaded black shriveled wretch that is my insides wants to hate it all. Except this one part where every week she takes time to toast a few, small bits of wonderful.

Because the thing is, despite all my big talk, I love the little things to. They are what get me through the day. Vegetables inadvertently chopped in rainbow order! Being trapped in a doorway during a downpour. Full ice cube trays.

So, I am thinking that, in an attempt to Focus On the Positive! I shall join in the movement and give some sort of regular thanks.

Today?

Today I am fueled by grey t-shirts & pierogies.

happy 3pm on a thursday!

landlocked

This is where I am from:

Do you notice how there is water EVERYWHERE?

In hot summery weather like we're having now it is so hard to be so far away from home, a place where people just keep their bathing suits in the car, because chances are you're going to drive by water at some point in time during the day, so why not stop for a quick dip?

I also used to live here for a long time:

That there's the ocean.

And for a while we lived here:

Or, more specifically, here:

It was grand. I saw the ocean from my back door.

This is where I live now:

There are tons of great things about living in St. Louis, but proximity to large bodies of water is not one of them. And no, the rivers don't count.

I think I miss the smell of water as much as I miss seeing it. But I miss being in it most of all.

mine. backoff.

Standing to drink is so exhausting.

******

Oh, come on. You LOVE it when I post pictures of my pets.