 |
|
me
in brief: nanette, 27. chicago native in exile in champaign (attending GSLIS). future librarian. unemployed full-time student. see also: my journal, letters, music news.
cam
archives, yo
buy me stuff
amplified to rock store
posts read top to bottom each day. i like it like that.
contact: 
previous - next - random - list in real life, there's...
EVENT PLANNER: * = I have a ticket, I'll definitely be there
All shows in Chicago unless otherwise specified. Are you on tour? Are you playing in Chicago? Let me know. I'll come out and see you play if I don't have school that night.
|
Monday, September 17, 2001I've been trying to avoid watching too much TV. I just can't see those planes smash in to the World Trade Center again. I had been dreaming about it every night, and I finally stopped on Saturday night because I managed to distract myself sufficiently during the day rather than dwelling on the events. I'm not as scared as I was, but I don't think this is anywhere near over. A friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) said, on the night of the tragedy, that this would "blow over in a couple of weeks." Somehow, I doubt that, but I think it's important to do what we can to get on with our lives. I'm not saying that we should forget what's happened, but I think we need to restore some semblance of normalcy to our daily activities. The victims and the families of the victims are still in my thoughts, and now that I have a credit card, I'm going to make my donation to the Red Cross. I'll probably wait to donate blood--I'll do it in another couple of months, once people aren't so active about donating and supplies are down to their usual critically low levels. I think my contribution would be of more assistance at that time.You'll all be glad to know that my cynicism has returned. I went to the rememberance ceremony on the quad on Friday, and while I thought that many parts of it were great (in particular, the chancellor's statements and the reading of an e-mail from an NYU student who witnessed the attacks) there were some parts that bordered on just plain awful. There was the "group hug," which reminded me of something right out of the movie Heathers. I understand that the point was to promote unity and caring for each other, but it was just...ick. I don't know. I suspect I'll get some pissy e-mails saying that I'm totally unfeeling and uncaring for saying that, so I'll try to head those off before they happen: you're wrong. I'm not a touchy-feely person, and I'm really not comfortable hugging people I don't know. It's not any sort of xenophobia, it's just a personal space violation thing. When I want to express my desire for unity, I don't do it by hugging random people. I do it through kindness and action. Group hugs are the kind of empty gesture that has good intentions, but are meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Oh, and there was a folk singer who performed a song she wrote about the incident. She had a nice voice, but there's just something about that kind of thing that makes me go "ugh." The lyrics to the chorus were passed out so people could sing along. Nobody sang along. I was not surprised. The one thing that really got my goat about the ceremony was this: the statements that were made promoted unity and encouraged the university community not to discriminate or judge people based on appearances, ethnicity, religious beliefs, etc. However, for the end of the ceremony, they brought out a vocal group, and guess what they sang? No, not "America the Beautiful" or "The Star-Spangled Banner" or some other non-secular patriotic or uplifting song. They sang some sort of Christian religious song. I found that tasteless and inappropriate. You want to encourage unity and discourage prejudice? Don't shove Jesus down people's throats. This isn't a school with a homogenous population, which was obvious to anyone who attended. I was raised Catholic, and I don't consider myself anti-Christian or anything, but I found it inappropriate. Admittedly, there was a tear or two in my eye during the moment(s) of silence for the victims. The sound of the bell in Altgeld Hall ringing was incredibly eerie and sad. It was hard not to be moved. The only person who wasn't silent during the moment of silence was the asshole TV cameraman who was standing about thirty feet away. Apparently, he hadn't shut off his walkie-talkie, and someone was trying to reach him. Ignoring it didn't work, and he couldn't just flip the switch for a minute, so he picked up his walkie-talkie and stage-whispered "We're having a moment of silence right now." Of course, given the silence on the quad, his stage whisper sounded like a shout. Yeah, numbnuts, we sure were having a moment of silence. Thanks for disturbing it. Tim was here this weekend, and we drove out to Decatur so I could take him to Millikin and the Old Book Barn. I was surprised at how much Millikin has changed since I graduated--I knew they were building new buildings, but everything is completely different. I think I sounded like one of those crotchety old people who goes on and on about "when I was your age, things were much harder! We didn't have a Quizno's Subs in the student center! We had a crappy deli that only had two types of cheese at any given time! The nearest coffee shop was several miles away at the mall, and there was no TCBY, either!" Tim just humored me. He's good like that. I'm probably going to be spending a little bit of time in Decatur because I'm doing a case study on the Millikin Library. Maybe this will break my longstanding fear and loathing of D-town. Of course, seeing the wrong people could send me running back to my safe little apartment in Champaign in about two seconds, so we'll see what happens. --------------------
Thursday, September 13, 2001Superchunk tour dates have been announced. The Chicago show is on November 16 at Metro--which is, conveniently, the first day of my Thanksgiving vacation. I'll see you there, Quinn.posted by Nanette E on 9/13/2001 08:44:05 PM | link me - message me
I am trying to live my life as normally as possible because I really think it's the best response to recent events. Don't get me wrong, I'm still shocked and saddened by everything that's happened, and I still look at my photos of the Manhattan skyline with disbelief, and I still cry when I see family members and friends of victims on the news, holding photos of people they will most likely never see alive again. But I feel the need to go on with things, to do my schoolwork and watch television programs that aren't news, to listen to music and laugh and try to have a good time. The mood around campus has been noticeably somber for the past couple of days. On Wednesday morning, when I went to my 9 AM class, I noticed that nobody was talking when I walked into the classroom. Everything was silent, everyone sat there staring at the front of the room. When I walked home from the library tonight, campus seemed unusually empty. Jackie organized a small candlelight vigil last night on the quad. Several of us sat out there quietly for about an hour, then we started talking. And after I talked about how I've been feeling, I felt somewhat better--a little less sensitive, a little less angry, a little further from tears. I think I am almost back to being myself. This event has changed me somewhat--I think I realize how fragile our lives really can be, and I appreciate what I have a lot more. I'd really like to be more thoughtful, helpful, and generous, because I think that, by being a good person, I can make some small difference in the world. Making a small difference is all that most of us have the ability to do, but it all counts. Oh, and I need to insert something cranky into my little lovefest here, so here it is: My neighbor is playing Lenny Kravitz VERY LOUD and it's extremely fucking annoying. I consider myself a very tolerant person, but I cannot tolerate having my space invaded by that ungodly cover of "American Woman." He's got some really bizarre music-listening habits--he listens to one song REALLY LOUD and then that's it. No more noise. It's not worth fussing or slamming the door over, but I usually put my own music on loud to cover up his racket. Besides, once winter comes, this won't be an issue at all--I'll be hermetically sealed into my little apartment, safe from Chet-across-the-courtyard's shitty musical taste. The only neighbor-noise I'll ever hear during the winter is the sound of the Chinese couple upstairs talking in their bathroom, and I find that oddly endearing. --------------------
Tuesday, September 11, 2001On the way home from the library a few minutes ago, I heard a news report on one of the Chicago AM news radio stations (which I can pick up down here, though they're staticky) that gas prices have increased dramatically over the past several hours due to the terrorist attack. Some towns (they were speaking of Decatur, Shelbyville, and Moweaqua in particular) have reported gas prices as high as $4.50/gallon. It seems that people are panicking and are flocking to gas stations to fill their cars with gas. When I drove past the Amoco on the corner near my apartment complex, the lines of cars extended out into the street, but prices were only up to $1.99/gallon (they were $1.77 when I filled my gas tank on Sunday night). According to the reporters on the radio, there's really no reason for this--though gas prices have risen, they haven't risen dramatically enough to justify the price gouging that's going on.Since I can't afford to make a financial contribution to the relief efforts, I'm going to make sure I get out to donate blood sometime this week. Any of you other Chambanaites want to go with me? I'll probably head out on Thursday around 3:30, or maybe sometime on Saturday. Let me know.
I dug through the photographs I took last year on my vacation to New York, looking for one particular picture. It's the one that hung on my bulletin board at my old job--a blurry picture of the Manhattan skyline, taken from the Statue of Liberty. It was an unnaturally warm day for early March, but a little cloudy. The World Trade Center sticks out from the middle of the Manhattan skyline like two sore thumbs, towering over all the surrounding skyscrapers. Ray, Sandra, and I went through the lobby of the building that morning--we got off the subway there and walked out towards the park to catch the ferry to the Statue of Liberty. I remember that it was absolutely teeming with people, all rushing around with things to do, going about their work days. The fact that it just isn't there any more is scary. My heart goes out to the friends and families of those who were lost in this horrific incident. It's reminded me that I really need to be thankful, every minute of every day, for the wonderful people who surround me. You honestly never know what could happen. You could wake up one morning--as many did today--to find that your world has entirely changed.
My mother called me this morning at 9 AM. I didn't know it was her when the phone rang, but I got up and answered it anyhow. Of course, my old piece-of-shit phone wasn't working right, so I had to press the talk button about five times before I could answer. "You probably haven't heard this yet because you've been asleep, but the World Trade Center has been hit by an airplane, and the Pentagon and possibly the White House are on fire. Your father's in the Federal Building, and they're under lockdown. He was in a meeting when this started." For the past hour, I've been a wreck. This is the sort of thing that many people my age were terrified of as children. I know nothing's happened in downtown Chicago, but I'm scared that something will. I know a lot of people who are working there--my father in the Federal Building, and Tim and Matty in their respective workplaces. (UPDATE: Tim's at home. He called me around 10. The Dirksen Federal Building has been evacuated, so my dad is hopefully safe. I suspect Matty has made it home by now--I should give him a call.) I've been thinking about everyone I know in New York and Washington DC, and I hope everyone is safe. There's already been a tremendous loss of life, and I hope that additional losses can be prevented. I'll probably be on AIM at some point today if anyone wants to chat. It's just one of those times where I really don't like being alone in a semi-strange town where I don't know too many people. --------------------
Wednesday, September 05, 2001A quick excuse, then I'm out of here: My ethernet connection is screwed up again, and has been since Sunday afternoon. My ISP doesn't know when it will be fixed (it's some sort of hardware problem related to the installation) but they're supposedly working on it. I'm using a dial-up to get online, and it ties up the phone line, so I try to avoid using it for long periods of time. That's why I haven't updated.Since I'm spending a couple of hours in a computer lab tomorrow, you can expect something decent tomorrow. Until then...no promises. --------------------
Friday, August 31, 2001I'm waiting for Colin, Andy, and some unspecified recent law school graduate/former child prodigy friend of theirs to show up. Colin assures me that the recent law school graduate/former child prodigy is not an asshole, which is a good thing, because there's a no assholes ban in effect in this fine apartment. Colin has introduced me to an asshole or two in his time, and I'm not having any more of it.Tonight's plan probably involves drinking, either here or at one of the many fine bars that Champaign has to offer. Underage undergrads! The stink of cheap, shitty beer! Sticky floors! Yay!...or maybe not. Perhaps drinking at home would be a better option. I already told Greg about this, and now I'm going to tell everyone else: New episodes of Space Ghost and the Brak Show start on Sunday, along with a new show called Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law. Shit yeah, that's cool. Space Ghost is probably second only to my beloved Mr. Show when it comes to favorite television programs. Oh, and I need this desperately. I even have a place to hang it up. Sadly, it doesn't feature Tansut, who is a favorite character of mine, but the mere sight of Brak never fails to make me laugh. Where are those bastards? I hope they didn't get lost like everyone else who comes over to visit... --------------------
Thursday, August 30, 2001After an hour and a half worth of serious toil in the Reference Room of the main library, I answered all nine of my Reference and Information Services homework questions. I'll have you know that there are eleven--count 'em, eleven--journals about stamp collecting published in France. As for the difference between IUR and IUr, well, some things should just stay under wraps.There was a creepy guy in the Reference Room. He was kind of big and sloppily-dressed, and he was wearing a Tasmanian Devil bandanna (actually, it might have been a pillowcase) under his baseball cap, sort of like a veil. Frrrrreaky. He was also listening to music on a Walkman, only his music was loud enough that everyone within about a ten-foot radius could hear it, and he'd pound on the computer table along with his music every so often. Keep in mind this is a room full of people trying to do research and study, a room that is supposed to be quiet, so the pounding sound carried to the other side of the room. Every so often, he would emit this weird, creepy, snickery laugh. At one point when I was sitting next to him, I glared at him for making so much damn noise, and he made a huge production of turning his monitor away from me, presumably so I couldn't see that he was signing up for some sort of Disney Kids Club. About fifteen seconds later, I noticed that one of the computers on the other side of the reference desk was free, so I got away from Mr. Freaky. That, my friends, is why I don't ever want to work with the public. My freak tolerance is extremely low. The reference librarian just ignored him, but she probably had better things to do than try to kick freaks out of the reference room. He looked like the sort of person who would raise a stink if she had told him to turn down his Walkman or stop drumming on the computer table. Either that, or he's just the regular reference room freak, and she's used to him and just tunes him out.
Slowly but surely, I'm continuing to get used to life down here. Every so often I come to the realization that this really is my home now, whether I like it or not. Usually it happens when I hear people talking in that flat, sort of hick central Illinois accent I came to dislike when I was living in Decatur. Ugh, Decatur. I haven't gone out there since I moved here--actually, I haven't been out there since that weird, fucked-up St. Patrick's Day weekend I spent out there--but I'm sure I'll be headed in that direction sooner or later. I don't know why I'm still avoiding it. It's not like I'm going to be dealing with some drunk guy yammering about how much he loooooooves me ever again. (Long story, and not necessarily one worth telling, but true.) I've had all my classes now, and I'm still of the opinion that the work isn't going to be particularly taxing. I'll have to work at a higher level here--I'm no longer attending (to borrow the immortal words of Quinn's professor) Mickey Mouse University--but I can handle it. I think I'm actually going to enjoy my reference class, which I wasn't expecting, and I'm already really excited about cataloguing and classification. There's some part of me that really loves memorizing and using all those little rules and styles. I'm volunteering at the LRL computer lab right now--sitting at the lab monitor computer until 3 PM. After that, I'm headed over to the Main Library (my favorite place on campus!) to do my research homework, which involves combing through various reference books (this week, it's bibliographies, catalogs, and indexes) to find answers to really bizarre, arcane questions. Stuff like "What journals are published in France about stamp collecting?" and "What is IUR? Is it different from IUr?" Colin might come out to visit me on Friday. Hopefully, he'll come through and actually show up. I'm also hoping to see Matty at some point. I didn't get to the corn maze last weekend, but I'm going to do that eventually. Really. I might write something at ancillary later. We'll see. --------------------
Saturday, August 25, 2001Man, I need to get my shit together and start updating regularly again. It's not like I've got some sort of super-active social life around here--mostly I just do school stuff and hang out with Jackie and Sebastian and Leia sometimes.I've been living here a week now, but it seems like it's been months. However, I still get sort of amazed (not always in a good way) when I realize that I'm actually living here. Tonight, I walked past some random university building that had a University of Illinois sign in front of it, and I thought "oh, wait a minute, I go to U of I now, I live in Champaign." It's just that Champaign has always been a place that I pass through but never stay. I know my time here is finite, but it just feels strange actually staying here for more than a night or two. I've had two of my four classes already, and I don't think the work is going to be particularly taxing. I'll have to exert more effort than I have in the past, but instead of thirty-page papers, I'll be writing eight-to-ten page papers. As long as I do the research ahead of time, I can churn out an eight-to-ten page paper in about two hours. Considering that I don't have a job yet, and that I probably won't have one all semester, I'll have heaps of free time to do pretty much whatever I want. Uh, as long as it costs under $5, that is. One of the things I'm doing is volunteering, partially to get my name out there, and partially to kill some of my free time in a constructive way. I'm working two hours a week in the GSLIS (that's Graduate School of Library and Information Science) computer lab, and I'll be working at the Book Repair and Pamphlet Binding Unit a few hours a week. I'm especially excited about the book repair stuff--I think that's what I really want to do. The thing I like about book repair is that, by repairing books, I'll be conserving something important to someone. Plus, some of the work is fairly complex and artistic, like repairing covers and re-binding books that are falling apart. I've been spending quite a bit of time in the Main Library, which never ceases to amaze me. The Main Library here contains ten floors (plus a few Being John Malkovich-esque "half floors") of nothing but book stacks. The stacks are closed to everyone except grad students, faculty, and undergrads with a special pass, so there's really nobody in there, and it's so huge that you could conceivably get lost. A lot of the collection is stored on special movable shelves, which are fun to watch in action. I'm unnaturally entertained by the "If you get locked in the bookstacks" signs, and I also find myself lapsing into a game I used to play back when I worked at Millikin's library: find the oldest book on the shelf. The difference is that there's a lot more old books here at U of I. It's not unusual to pull some old, ornate, leather-bound volume off the shelf to find that it was published in 1852. So, yeah. I'm happy here, and I'm glad I made the choice to move down here. I miss everyone up in Chicago, but they're all coming to visit sooner or later. Matty was here for a while today. We ate some nasty Thai food and watched Bring it On, which gets better every time I see it. Tim will be here tomorrow, and I think I'm going to drag him to the corn maze, just because the idea of a corn maze is really fucking funny. Apparently, the big women's fashion trend down here in Chambana is one-armed tank tops. I mentioned that to Matty today, and he says it's a trend everywhere. Apparently, I don't hang out in the same places as the one-armed tank top chicks in Chicago. Another thing I've noticed (not willingly) is the number of women who wear hiphuggers without a belt, only to have their underwear sticking out about ten feet when they sit down. It's like being in third grade again. (Remember that? How there was always some kid--usually a boy--whose waistband stuck out when you sat down for storytime?) Steve Malkmus is playing here on Halloween. See? Champaign doesn't suck. Well, not on Halloween, at least. Oh, speaking of bands playing here, Juno played here last Thursday. They rocked. They are also nice guys--they stayed at Jackie's apartment, so I had the opportunity to meet and hang out with them. It was a good time. If Juno comes to your town, go see them. I worked the door at the Nada Surf show at the Union tonight. Lots of pop-punk types were hanging out, and I was exposed to some really execrable ska-core shit. Anyhow, I met a kid who goes to Millikin (my alma mater, yo) and he's set up a music festival next weekend. It's mostly Chicago/St. Louis-area punk bands, but hey--it's something. I ended up talking to him for a while, and he's looking for bands interested in playing shows in Decatur. I think it's cool that he's trying to do his part to make that town suck less, so if you're interested in traveling down there and playing, or if you know of a band who would be interested in traveling down there and playing, (it's approximately 3 hours from Chicago and 2 hours from St. Louis) e-mail him and let him know. (Nathan? Lowder? I'm talking to you.) You know, my friends and I would have done something like that when we were at Millikin, but we were too busy making penises out of clay and sticking them all around campus. (Seriously. Unfortunately, there's no pictures of this event, so you'll have to take my word for it.) So that's life in Champaign. It's tolerable, and occasionally it's even fun. I think it will improve significantly once I start meeting more people. --------------------
|
blogger
rawks. so do you.
all content ©2000 nanette
"are you amplified to rock? are you waiting for a contact?" --guided by voices
Look, people. It's one of those stupid trackers.
