Katie’s Tent on the Beach

What's the closest thing you have to a time machine?
Submitted by Verisimilitude.

Definitely books, specifically anything written by Jane Austen.  For whatever reason, I have come to be able to imagine myself living (for real) in England in the 19th century...possibly as one of the Bennett sisters.  It's not right.  I, as a woman, should never, EVER want to live at that time.  I'm basically asking for an existence based on the stress of finding a suitable "match" to marry so that I don't become a spinster burden to my comfortable-but-not-rich parents. (Hmmm...wait...that's my life today).  Anyway, there's something about the language and the empire-waist dresses that makes me feel like I might have missed out on something.  And Mr. Darcy. Of course, perhaps I'm underselling the power of my imagination--that's truly what allows me to time travel.  But, I can get totally lost in the suggestion of another historical time and place, especially one in which "dancing" means choreographed walking.

In honor of the upcoming Olympics, what could you win a gold medal in?
Submitted by TheFiercestCalm.

Wow.  Look at that.  I say I'm never going to get a gold medal because I exist one strata up from a sloth and Vox opens the door to examining the ways I could get a gold medal if my interests were ever accepted as a medal sport (which, with the inclusion of ballroom dancing, I'm willing to believe anything's possible).  With renewed hope and a little moxie, I've offered up some of the "sports" I could medal in.  Let me just say before I start, I'm not proud of my abilities in all of these categories, but I have them nonetheless.

1. Drinking. Again, not proud.  But, especially if the sport was divided into a men's and women's category, I'm more than certain I could give most women a run for their money.  I'm conflicted about this one...drinking should never be medal worthy.  That's just one of those "murphy law" realities--I can do it, I can do it well, but I shouldn't.

2. Urban Navigation. I am a wizard when it comes to directions and finding places. Now, I know they actually have these competitions but they're all done in the woods...you know, the one's where they drop you off in the middle of nowhere with a compass and you have to find your way back.  I'd be horrible at that.  But when it comes to driving and/or finding stuff in a (sub)urban place, gimme the keys.  We're there.

3. Writing e-mails. Not for the quality but for the sheer quantity.  I'm lightening-fingered when it comes to shooting off non-business e-mails.  My friends are scheduling an intervention at this moment.

4. Talking.  Originally, I limited this one to talking on the telephone for business...I'm actually an incredible receptionist but then I thought, "Wait...why am I limiting myself?"  Pair this one with #1 and you get the patented "Pacyna" experience.  I can and have talked for nearly 12 straight hours...like last Tuesday.  My biggest competitor: my brother Matt, who's been talking non-stop for 27 years.  My parents and brother Andy can vouch for that one.

5. Red Eye Crossword puzzles. I finished one last week in under 2 minutes.  Unfortunately, the New York Times one (which is the gold standard for all crossword puzzles) always takes a little longer.  Okay, okay, and I have trouble with the Monday ones sometimes...like every other week.  But I've nailed the Red Eye offering (it's basically much like the crossword that can be found in People magazine or the back of a box of cereal.)

6. Punctuality. I'm not sure why but I'm almost never late.  What's weird is that, even though I leave plenty of time, I'm also rarely early.  Most places that I want to be (not the dentist's office or a class I'm teaching...those I tend to "run behind" on), I get to exactly on time.  It's odd.  And yet, it seems a naturally given ability.  This paired with #2 means that very often, I've not left enough time so the actual process of getting somewhere can be a scramble.  But I get there and usually with seconds to spare.

Oh yes, I'm a winner.  I'm not exactly sure what kind, but I try...real hard. Um Wheaties, I'm ready for my close-up...and hey, I finished your crossword puzzle in under 1 minute.

I've made that pivotal decision to return to the gym.  It's always good for me and I'm never exactly sure why I stop, but whenever I return, my brain starts firing on different synapses and all that once looked distorted becomes clear and, dare I say, even simple.  My general anxiety basically disappears.  It's magical.  And sweaty. So, on my way home I was making a list of things that I absolutely want but will never have because I'm not committed enough to getting them.  They act as fantasy goals really--things that would be really nice but in another life.  Here's what I've come up with:
1. A smoking hot beach volleyball body. I'm watching Carrie Walsh and Misty May destroy yet another silly team that's made it to the finals and I'm green with envy.  But this is a body I'll never have.  Why? 1) I will not devote 5 hours a day to training and volleyball on the beach (which technically, I have...I don't have the height though...damn) and 2) I like Dunkin' Donuts.  Bye bye smoking hot bod...in my next life maybe.
2. Fame and/or fortune. Do I think it would be a hoot...yeah.  Am I willing to do what it takes to get either...hell no, especially right now. It seems the pre-req for this has become and sex tape.  I know for a fact that will NEVER, NEVER be an option.
3. A house that could appear in a designer's magazine. I want to have a great home with beautiful things in it but I am just not equipped with the personal function that allows me to either care for, create, or maintain this setting. Right now I have an interesting kind of "bachelor" mentality when it comes to decor...my apartment is like a glorified dorm room.  And while I'd really like to change it...I just won't.  I know myself too well.
4. A dog, while I'm in graduate school.  I used to talk about the phase of school when I wasn't in classes because the first thing I'd do would be to get a dog.  Nope.  I want one...everyday I dream about it.  But I'm too practical (I know, that sounds absurd even to me) and I know I would come to resent it.  This one's going to have to wait until I have an abode with a yard.  No dog should ever live in an apartment.
5. The ability to pull off super high heels.  I don't know why I want this.  I appreciate the arches in my feet enough to cause them not to fall.  But maybe it's the grace of the stars of the '50s who could walk in heels in just "that way" that makes me think it would be SO cool.  Again...too practical.  I can push through pain of many varieties, but that special lightening bolt that shoots through your heel straight up to your hip with every step of these torture chambers stops me in my tracks and directs me toward the Birkenstock aisle. 
6. Simple, no-nonsense relationships.  I'm not sure if these exist, but I'm willing to believe.  Unfortunately, nothing will ever be less than the maximum of complexity for me and why...because I actively complicate things.  It's in my nature.  I can never just allow it to be simple.  Why.  WHY?
7.  An Olympic Gold Medal. I love the Olympics. And I just want a gold medal...I just do.  But I won't have one.  The number of reasons here could be staggering, but I'm going to go with, "I'm too old to start training to be an Olympic gymnast."  Of course, there is curling...
8.  A Mini-Cooper.  I am just in love with these cars.  Lustfully, I walk past the one parked on my street and try to wipe the drool away while no one's looking.  But I fear I'll never make enough money to actually have one...and by the time I do have enough money to buy one (no leasing...leasing's for sissies), gas will be roughly $53 a gallon.  I'm still going to dream about this one.
9.  The ability to switch hit. That's about the greatest talent I think one can possess.  Step up to the plate as a righty in one at-bat and then mix it up next time and do it convincingly and successfully.  I'll never have it because 1) how do I justify spending time on that and 2) I suck as a righty...why do I really want to double-suck?
10. The ability to resist Starbucks.  It's become a habit that I think may be unbreakable.  This may also be why #8 will never come true...I can't save money for a mini when that iced caramel macchiato is calling me from within.  In every life, I suppose...

Show us the book you're reading right now.
Submitted by Strive2Be.

I thought I'd undertake a spiritual journey...who knew it would take as many years to read as it does to climb a seven storey mountain.  And it has to be very nearly as painful.  But then, there's that sentence that shows up and makes me think for days.  So I'm sticking with it.

The Seven Storey Mountain

Thomas Merton

What is this thing?

Okay, yeah, it's Bobby Trendy.  But that still leaves me with so many questions.

293.trendy.bobby.071708

As I was headed towards Starbucks, rationalizing why it was a good thing to spend $3.50 on a moderately okay but somehow desperately needed espresso beverage (iced because it's summer), I was thinking about how time has been passing so fast lately.  Because I've got 100 things on my plate which is a huge change from the, oh, zero things I had 3 weeks ago, it seems like July is just forging past without stopping.  Frankly, I'm not going to complain.  July is my least favorite month of the year, mostly because it's spent saying things like, "We'll have to make plans," and, "Oh, it's summer and we'll have time..." only we don't.  Somehow, that realization doesn't happen in June because all your plans are for July.  When you get into July, everything's gets topsy-turvy because somehow you've made plans thinking you'll have more time and never do.  And even if you do, it's too effing hot.

So...this was the stream of consciousness I was experiencing as I was walking into Starbucks...wishing I had more time this afternoon to do everything I wanted to do.  And then I saw the sign hanging on the door that said something like, "The best days are the ones that go fast...keep up."  Clearly this implies that Starbucks provides the answer to all of us sloths who are actively beaten down by our overplanning of July.  But that's not what made me angry.  What's with this, "the best days are the ones that go fast," approach to life.  Have we so completely given up on quality of life that this is what days have become?  Something to "make it through" instead of savor?

I'll be the first to admit that I'm awful at living in the present so my questioning of this ideology, if you will, is the pot calling the kettle black.  But, that's exactly where I see the problem.  Every other piece of my life suggests I have to move faster, more efficiently, in an expeditious (word of the day) manner.  Why does my "corporate coffee hangout" have to do the same.  I'm not sure I'm ready to call an iced caramel macchiato a "power drink" for my day.  And I want to be given permission to enjoy sipping it as I leisurely stroll home from a hectic day. The best days are the ones that I don't feel guilty savoring.  C'mon Starbucks.  Get on board and off my back.

    In every life, it seems, there is a space designed to make you feel a little less than awesome.  I have found that space in my life and it's the women's bathroom on the 9th floor of Damen Hall.  I could be having the greatest day in the world, feel like I look like a million bucks, possibly even actually look like a million bucks.  I walk in there and all bets are off...one look in those mirrors and I'm a pock-marked, red-faced, stringy-haired disaster wearing a shirt that has seven stains on it. It's like a time warp back to my worst day as a 13 yr. old.  Worse, this apparent reality has eluded me for what is usually hours.
    It has to be the lighting because when I run out of there wimpering, in search of another mirror for at least one second opinion, I look just fine and my shirt has no problems.  The florescent lights mixed with a pea-green, only-available-in-the-70s tile make me look like a creature straight out of Fraggle Rock.  They're cute and fuzzy...but in that ugly way.  It's especially not the look I want when I'm trying to convince people of the sometimes tenuous reality that I am, in fact, put together and know my shit. Instead, the heinous bathroom just makes me feel that I look like shit.
    I have literally had this post forming in my mind since the fall of 2005 when I walked into the heinous bathroom for the first time and thought, "Wow...is it possible that I can really look that bad."  I wasn't even blogging then, but I knew that at some point I'd find a forum to frame the discussion.  Dreams really do come true.  And to you, Heinous Bathroom, consider this war.  By the time I leave Damen Hall, I will figure out a way to thwart your evil-ness...one day, I will actually appear as the put-together professional intellectual that I'm training to be.  Right now though, I have to take care of that splotchy patch on my left cheek.

OMG.  I'm a widget.  Look down on the left side bar at the bottom.  See me.  Good.  Take me, then.  And put me on your blog...and then you can have up-to-the-minute updates on changes I'm making to my blog. P.S.--I love shameless self-promotion.  Did I not mention that?

You know what?  I don't know. That's in answer to the sure question you're asking which is, "What the heck is that title supposed to mean?"  And I don't know.  I haven't a clue.  But what I do know if that I've been having odd strings of random questions and comments that I cannot for the life of me fashion into some kind of cohesive post.  So, for the sake of argument, I'm just going to list them here and hopefully move on with my life.  They've been clogging up my brain portals for too long.  So, here we are:
    1. Why have I never heard of watchmovies.net before? Yesterday I watched the entirety of "Kung Fu Panda" for free online...I was almost in disbelief.  Sure there were some pixellated parts and the credits were in Chinese, but the whole movie was otherwise awesome.  And just by the way, I love that movie.  I'm going to watch it for free online again.  It's good.  Check this site out.  Seriously. I started "Get Smart" but realized I didn't have to cram in all movies in one day and decided to save it for later.
    2. The 4th of July scares me. It has nothing to do with nationalism or anti-patriotism (for those of you whose job it is to eavesdrop on everything put out there on the web...you know who you are...).  It has more to do with 1) idiots who have 2) purchased an arsenal of "legal" fireworks and who are 3) setting them off in public places...like my street.  All last night I was wondering why I decided against renters' insurance.  Thankfully, I woke up this morning with everything intact...but should I really have to ask if that will actually happen?
    3. There's been a pink Cadillac parked out in front of my building for 3 days. I'm serious.  Like the one in the movie.  Of course that one didn't have black windows and a suspicious smell emanating from it (I'm sure)...but I still think it's cool.
    4. My favorite part of every morning this week was walking down my street looking at the lake. I have to give Meghan credit here for re-talking me into my current apartment by using that as a "feature" of the new 'hood.  She wasn't wrong.  That's been my favorite 10 minutes of every day thus far, making me think that maybe I should make a better effort at waking up earlier and walking along there for a little longer.  It has upped my quality of life by at least 20 points...per day.
    5. Whoever invented sub-woofers and music that makes a thumping bass (I realize these are not the same people) should be chained to a pole and forced to listen to that combo until they beg for mercy. I finally broke down and bought some noise canceling headphones but I think not before my heartbeat has actually physically changed to a rhythm found in a variety of hip-hop songs currently on the radio.  Kill me.  I'm planning my revenge though.  I'm picking just the right classical music selection to blast back in retaliation.  I, however, do not own sub-woofers, so I'm actually thinking about learning an aria or two and singing them at the top of my lungs when things get really bad.  For this reason (and only this one), I can't wait for weather that requires the windows to be shut for mere survival (hot or cold...I don't care.)
    6. A paycheck every week is a nice convenience. I have never had this situation before (even my teaching job was a bi-weekly check.)  Granted, my last deposit was, like $30, but it's money I didn't have before. It's lightening the load...literally one iota.
    7. I love Xingu. The flavor of this beer (that I'm drinking right now, ice cold) is possibly the best thing I've ever encountered.  But it HAS TO BE ice cold.  That's the only way.
    See...random.

Ahhh Evanston...it's like another world up there.  Granted, geographically, I live about 2 miles away but I'm a firm believer that when you cross over from the red to the purple line, you enter some kind of alternate urban-yet-surburban yuppie paradise.  In whatever you might consider Downtown Rogers Park, you could snap up a used book at the Armadillo's Pillow (if "Main Street" is Sheridan) or you could buy your very own Sari (if you choose Devon as the main drag).  In Evanston, though, you can buy a winter coat at Northface right after you've taken out a mortgage to pay for it at the plushly adorned Chase bank...right there on the corner.  The sidewalks are brick...here in RoPa we've got plain old ce-ment (say it "see-ment" to make it sound really down home).  Everyone takes credit in Evanston, possibly even the vendors on the street, which are few and far between of course.  You can eat at Wolfgang Puck's right before you choose which of 18 movies to see at the Mega-Enormous Plex. Personally, I don't mind Village Theater for $5 movies and bring your own bag for popcorn on Wednesday nights.
    But, as I was making my way out of the Davis El station today, I noticed perhaps my most favorite Evanston "thing."  Something you'd certainly never see anywhere else in the city.  On the west side of the station, there's a circle where you can drop-off and pick-up El Riders.  It's called the "Kiss and Ride" on the sign in the station.  It always, ALWAYS makes me laugh just because I imagine the other pick-up spots for CTA in the city (I know there are a couple on the South Side and at the end of the el lines) would never be called that.  No, they'd more likely be something akin to "Get in the car and go...you're holding up traffic...(HONNNNNNKKKKKK)...and Ride."  Actually, I think I prefer the latter.