Has anyone else noticed the crazy amount of Twitter language going on?
It's everywhere. Everyone tweets. I don't even care.
However, I figure that if you don't know why people are putting @ in front of names, and # in front of words, I could help fill you in.
@johndoe - this tags John Doe.
#kentacohut - this, from what I can gather, tags a subject.*
I could be wrong about any of that, but I think it's right. Please correct me if I am in error.
Also, classes started again! It's about time.
*kentacohut is the matchbox name for the building which contains KFC, Taco Bell, and Pizza Hut.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Spagno Cafe - Now Open!
I love local restaurants.
Last week as I was making my normal errand route, one that strategically only necessitates right-hand turns, I saw a "Now Open!" sign on Roosevelt. It looked like a bagel shop from what I could tell. I love breakfast, and while Einstein Bagel Co. is tasty, the vibe in the store on 22nd is not inviting, so I don't like to go there. And Panera is kinda played out.
I made it a point to stop in to that new cafe today. I almost missed it completely, but instead I just missed it a little bit, passing it by one strip-mall's length. The hunger pangs necessitated my completion of this mission, so I about-faced and landed myself right in front of the little shop. When I walked in, I was greeted by a very comfortable looking dining area, fit with tables and booths, and a smiling woman at the register, Susanna.*
After a bit of chit-chat I glanced up at the varietous menu above, and saw exactly what I didn't know I had come for: Banana Nut Pancakes. $6 seemed reasonable for a good breakfast, so I shelled it out in hopeful anticipation. I perused the menu as my morning meal was prepared, and it looked really good! Paninis, hot and cold sandwiches, burgers, pasta, and myriad breakfast options make this a place with great potential, and the pricing is from $5-7. Not bad!
When my breakfast came out, I was delightfully surprised: three large pancakes, layered with bananas, complimented with both butter and whipped cream on the side, and a delicate pitcher of delicious syrup. I stared for a moment, thanked God for pancakes and bananas, sang a Jack Johnson song, and took my first bite. So good! Seriously, they were really, really good.
When I finished eating (there was still half left, which I boxed up), I thanked Susanna and her Albanian/Glen Ellynian helper Nas for the delicious food, and said I'd be back. School's starting, they're open from 6am - 10pm, and they have wi-fi. And since they're equipped with all of the hot beverages you'd want from a cafe I'm sure I'll be enjoying tea, coffee that is made to not taste like coffee anymore, and hot cocoa for those days where I'd rather prepare for a nap than study.
My recommendation: Check it out!
Spagno Cafe
621 E Roosevelt Rd
Lombard, IL 60148
What's your fave local spot, and why?
*I'm fairly certain it was Susanna, but I don't trust my memory for names. I just remember it kinda rhymed with "Dan".
Last week as I was making my normal errand route, one that strategically only necessitates right-hand turns, I saw a "Now Open!" sign on Roosevelt. It looked like a bagel shop from what I could tell. I love breakfast, and while Einstein Bagel Co. is tasty, the vibe in the store on 22nd is not inviting, so I don't like to go there. And Panera is kinda played out.
I made it a point to stop in to that new cafe today. I almost missed it completely, but instead I just missed it a little bit, passing it by one strip-mall's length. The hunger pangs necessitated my completion of this mission, so I about-faced and landed myself right in front of the little shop. When I walked in, I was greeted by a very comfortable looking dining area, fit with tables and booths, and a smiling woman at the register, Susanna.*
After a bit of chit-chat I glanced up at the varietous menu above, and saw exactly what I didn't know I had come for: Banana Nut Pancakes. $6 seemed reasonable for a good breakfast, so I shelled it out in hopeful anticipation. I perused the menu as my morning meal was prepared, and it looked really good! Paninis, hot and cold sandwiches, burgers, pasta, and myriad breakfast options make this a place with great potential, and the pricing is from $5-7. Not bad!
When my breakfast came out, I was delightfully surprised: three large pancakes, layered with bananas, complimented with both butter and whipped cream on the side, and a delicate pitcher of delicious syrup. I stared for a moment, thanked God for pancakes and bananas, sang a Jack Johnson song, and took my first bite. So good! Seriously, they were really, really good.
When I finished eating (there was still half left, which I boxed up), I thanked Susanna and her Albanian/Glen Ellynian helper Nas for the delicious food, and said I'd be back. School's starting, they're open from 6am - 10pm, and they have wi-fi. And since they're equipped with all of the hot beverages you'd want from a cafe I'm sure I'll be enjoying tea, coffee that is made to not taste like coffee anymore, and hot cocoa for those days where I'd rather prepare for a nap than study.
My recommendation: Check it out!
Spagno Cafe
621 E Roosevelt Rd
Lombard, IL 60148
What's your fave local spot, and why?
*I'm fairly certain it was Susanna, but I don't trust my memory for names. I just remember it kinda rhymed with "Dan".
Monday, September 14, 2009
Self-Betterment
I had no idea what he was talking about.
But that's kind of the point when you go to a conference. You expect someone to fill you in on a lot of information that you've never gotten before, and by the end, you have a new perspective, and perhaps renewed passion.
This past weekend I attended Backthird Audio's first ever songwriting conference. This sweet little studio/community art spot is working at building relationships between artists and community, and I think they're doing a great job.
This past weekend, they had a big-time publisher, John Somethingorother, from EMI CMG publishing talk all about how to target a market, serve your audience, pitch songs, split a deal with someone else, the value of co-writing, and much, much more. I was affirmed in what I originally thought: I have so far to go as a songwriter that it's ridiculous. But that's good, because it's one of my favorite hobbies. No stress, just an outlet.
I know a lot of people who don't seem to be working toward anything, or don't have any hobbies or outside pursuits, except, say, work. I constantly say that work is not my life, and I was glad to be able to do something to help enrich my craft this week.
What is something you'd love to pursue more?
But that's kind of the point when you go to a conference. You expect someone to fill you in on a lot of information that you've never gotten before, and by the end, you have a new perspective, and perhaps renewed passion.
This past weekend I attended Backthird Audio's first ever songwriting conference. This sweet little studio/community art spot is working at building relationships between artists and community, and I think they're doing a great job.
This past weekend, they had a big-time publisher, John Somethingorother, from EMI CMG publishing talk all about how to target a market, serve your audience, pitch songs, split a deal with someone else, the value of co-writing, and much, much more. I was affirmed in what I originally thought: I have so far to go as a songwriter that it's ridiculous. But that's good, because it's one of my favorite hobbies. No stress, just an outlet.
I know a lot of people who don't seem to be working toward anything, or don't have any hobbies or outside pursuits, except, say, work. I constantly say that work is not my life, and I was glad to be able to do something to help enrich my craft this week.
What is something you'd love to pursue more?
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Nice Afternoon
Eating frozen pizza, drinking a Sam Adams Octoberfest, and planning worship for Sunday.
That's a good day.
That's a good day.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
By Noon. And... grout?
Today has been amazingly productive.
I woke up at 7:30 with no alarm. I figured I was done sleeping. I got up, and realized my new room was a bit disheveled. So, I cleaned it up. Then, I went upstairs and cleaned the bathroom of our old apartment, and got rid of everything else that was left up there. Done.
Cleaning that up motivated me to take out the recycling and garbage. Always a good thing. Then, I decided to continue reading in Matthew's Gospel. I've been enjoying the Sermon on the Mount one bit at a time, and I'm finding it both refreshing and challenging. From there I prayed for the college students at church, then made an MIA list for those I haven't seen in a while. Two of which I've already gotten ahold of. I also read and responded to emails regarding a friend's potential recording project coming up in the next few months, and checked out the progress on a current project of another friend.
Finally, I worked at my school schedule until it was hammered out as best as possible, which has needed attention for some time now.
All before noon.
Still to do: eat something.
I realized I was getting hungry at about 8:30, while I was cleaning the bathroom. The tiles were a little, um... gross. So, I scrubbed with the powdery cleaner stuff and with some sort of scrubbing device with a nice ergonomic handle in order to get all of the discoloration out of the grout.
It was then that I had this question:
Instead of working so hard at making products to help us clean the grout between the tiles of the shower, why don't they just make walls of showers that don't have little spaces to get dirty?
It seems so simple. How many other little things like that are normative for us, but we just don't realize that they're kind of dumb? Probably a lot.
Lunch at noon is probably not one of those things, so off I go to find something delicious.
I woke up at 7:30 with no alarm. I figured I was done sleeping. I got up, and realized my new room was a bit disheveled. So, I cleaned it up. Then, I went upstairs and cleaned the bathroom of our old apartment, and got rid of everything else that was left up there. Done.
Cleaning that up motivated me to take out the recycling and garbage. Always a good thing. Then, I decided to continue reading in Matthew's Gospel. I've been enjoying the Sermon on the Mount one bit at a time, and I'm finding it both refreshing and challenging. From there I prayed for the college students at church, then made an MIA list for those I haven't seen in a while. Two of which I've already gotten ahold of. I also read and responded to emails regarding a friend's potential recording project coming up in the next few months, and checked out the progress on a current project of another friend.
Finally, I worked at my school schedule until it was hammered out as best as possible, which has needed attention for some time now.
All before noon.
Still to do: eat something.
I realized I was getting hungry at about 8:30, while I was cleaning the bathroom. The tiles were a little, um... gross. So, I scrubbed with the powdery cleaner stuff and with some sort of scrubbing device with a nice ergonomic handle in order to get all of the discoloration out of the grout.
It was then that I had this question:
Instead of working so hard at making products to help us clean the grout between the tiles of the shower, why don't they just make walls of showers that don't have little spaces to get dirty?
It seems so simple. How many other little things like that are normative for us, but we just don't realize that they're kind of dumb? Probably a lot.
Lunch at noon is probably not one of those things, so off I go to find something delicious.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Moving On? Out? In? Down?
Yes. All of those.
Today I moved much of my stuff out of my apartment, down two floors, into my new room.
And it's all a symbol of moving on. Many others in this building have moved. Moving into a new room gives me the feeling, as Rach said, that I don't see them because I moved, not because they moved. It's a nice way to avoid that abandonment feeling.
The only downside to this whole process was that I've been sick all day. It started at approximately 4pm yesterday, and picked up speed. By 10pm yesterday it had hit full on, and I've been coping all day. Moving and illness are a poor combo, let me tell you.
Thankfully, my wonderful neighbors helped us move stuff, and then invited the three of us roomies over for a home-cooked meal! That is what I love about this community. People just give.
The next few days will be used to finish removing the upstairs stuff, and re-moving it, as I did a year ago, to another room where it will be organized for, maybe 12 months, and then moved again.
I have lived in a different room every year for the past six.
What about you?
Today I moved much of my stuff out of my apartment, down two floors, into my new room.
And it's all a symbol of moving on. Many others in this building have moved. Moving into a new room gives me the feeling, as Rach said, that I don't see them because I moved, not because they moved. It's a nice way to avoid that abandonment feeling.
The only downside to this whole process was that I've been sick all day. It started at approximately 4pm yesterday, and picked up speed. By 10pm yesterday it had hit full on, and I've been coping all day. Moving and illness are a poor combo, let me tell you.
Thankfully, my wonderful neighbors helped us move stuff, and then invited the three of us roomies over for a home-cooked meal! That is what I love about this community. People just give.
The next few days will be used to finish removing the upstairs stuff, and re-moving it, as I did a year ago, to another room where it will be organized for, maybe 12 months, and then moved again.
I have lived in a different room every year for the past six.
What about you?
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Double Jeopardy
Tonight, both my life and my job may have been put in danger.
First, my life.
Since Katie is not feeling well I need to walk to work. The three minutes of sun, drizzle, breeze, or absolute darkness aren't so bad.
Unless there are coyotes.
Tonight I was taking my normal stroll, and up ahead of me on the path was, yes, a coyote. It was running, then it stopped, and stared straight in my direction as I was walking toward it. I am unsure of the likelihood that a coyote would attack a human in the suburbs, but I'd like to think it is high. Especially since I smelled like Mexican food, which coyotes love.
What could I do? I didn't want to try to walk toward it and hope it would ignore me, like I would to a goose. Nor did I want to walk away, for fear that the trip back into the overshadowed path would encourage it to try and eat me. So, I reached into the recesses of my past, and remembered the last experience I had with suburban coyotes.
That night, outside of my pastor's house, my friend Mary Beth (a native Arizonian) and I were outside and confronted by suburban coyotes, albeit at a distance. I freaked out, but not MB. She started stamping and clapping and yelling, "Ay ay ay ay!" (Read it more like a long "a" sound than a Mexican fiesta chant, which would likely have attracted the coyotes.) The wild beasts ran away, and we were safe.
So, I imitated my Arizonian amiga. I stamped my feet, and I clapped my hands. I didn't yell, though. I figured I'd save a little more gusto in case it started running at me and I needed to surprise it. And, you know what happened? It ran away. Instead of eating my face, it ran away. And I made it home safely.
Now, my job.
A dessert had been placed upon a tray, ready to be carried out to a table, when a small piece of said dessert fell off of the plate, and onto the tray. This small bite would obviously have been thrown away, so a coworker standing by eyed it, looked at me, and then eyed it again. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: "If you're gonna eat it, don't be sneaky about it. That justs looks suspicious. Just eat it."
Him: "You think so?"
"It's just gonna get thrown away. Whatever, man."
As he ate it, a manager saw him and totally called him out on it. Like, seriously.
Panic struck.
Later on, as I was leaving work, I told said manager the story, that it had fallen off the plate, and that I had peer pressured him into it. He wasn't just flippantly eating off of people's plates. In fact, he would never do such a thing. The response was that he could potentially have lost his job for that. I said it was probably more my peer pressure than him just eating food.
The response? It was something like, "Ok. Good night."
That did not sound promising.
First, my life.
Since Katie is not feeling well I need to walk to work. The three minutes of sun, drizzle, breeze, or absolute darkness aren't so bad.
Unless there are coyotes.
Tonight I was taking my normal stroll, and up ahead of me on the path was, yes, a coyote. It was running, then it stopped, and stared straight in my direction as I was walking toward it. I am unsure of the likelihood that a coyote would attack a human in the suburbs, but I'd like to think it is high. Especially since I smelled like Mexican food, which coyotes love.
What could I do? I didn't want to try to walk toward it and hope it would ignore me, like I would to a goose. Nor did I want to walk away, for fear that the trip back into the overshadowed path would encourage it to try and eat me. So, I reached into the recesses of my past, and remembered the last experience I had with suburban coyotes.
That night, outside of my pastor's house, my friend Mary Beth (a native Arizonian) and I were outside and confronted by suburban coyotes, albeit at a distance. I freaked out, but not MB. She started stamping and clapping and yelling, "Ay ay ay ay!" (Read it more like a long "a" sound than a Mexican fiesta chant, which would likely have attracted the coyotes.) The wild beasts ran away, and we were safe.
So, I imitated my Arizonian amiga. I stamped my feet, and I clapped my hands. I didn't yell, though. I figured I'd save a little more gusto in case it started running at me and I needed to surprise it. And, you know what happened? It ran away. Instead of eating my face, it ran away. And I made it home safely.
Now, my job.
A dessert had been placed upon a tray, ready to be carried out to a table, when a small piece of said dessert fell off of the plate, and onto the tray. This small bite would obviously have been thrown away, so a coworker standing by eyed it, looked at me, and then eyed it again. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: "If you're gonna eat it, don't be sneaky about it. That justs looks suspicious. Just eat it."
Him: "You think so?"
"It's just gonna get thrown away. Whatever, man."
As he ate it, a manager saw him and totally called him out on it. Like, seriously.
Panic struck.
Later on, as I was leaving work, I told said manager the story, that it had fallen off the plate, and that I had peer pressured him into it. He wasn't just flippantly eating off of people's plates. In fact, he would never do such a thing. The response was that he could potentially have lost his job for that. I said it was probably more my peer pressure than him just eating food.
The response? It was something like, "Ok. Good night."
That did not sound promising.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Katie's Down
If she were a Honda, I would say she broke on her own accord.
Katie Corolla is down for a bit. I was driving and heard something snaptacular in the engine. Like any dude would do, I pulled over and popped the hood, as if I knew what I should be looking for. The engine was still there, so I got back in and continued my 15 minute trip down the freeway.
When I arrived at my friend's house I again popped the hood, got on Google, and tried to figure out why (a) my battery light was on, and (b) why my power steering was out. Turned out it was because (c) my alternator belt had broken. That explained the snapping noise under the hood.
So, I stayed overnight and fixed the belt the next morning. I felt like such a dude. I can fix cars! That's something that automatically makes a guy feel especially manly.
Just as quickly as it was fixed, nay, even quicker, something else went wrong. The crankshaft pulley (aka wheel connected to the engine that makes all the belts go) fell off. Yeah, that's right. It just fell off. All the belts came loose.
Great.
One step forward, two steps back.
I can't fix that without the tools, so now I've got to have it towed to a shop. La-a-ame.
There are lessons to be learned here:
1. Anyone can fix cars. I mean, if I can, you can.
2. Always have a snack handy in case you get stuck somewhere.
3. No matter how good you feel about something, there's something else that will humble you right after.
Katie Corolla is down for a bit. I was driving and heard something snaptacular in the engine. Like any dude would do, I pulled over and popped the hood, as if I knew what I should be looking for. The engine was still there, so I got back in and continued my 15 minute trip down the freeway.
When I arrived at my friend's house I again popped the hood, got on Google, and tried to figure out why (a) my battery light was on, and (b) why my power steering was out. Turned out it was because (c) my alternator belt had broken. That explained the snapping noise under the hood.
So, I stayed overnight and fixed the belt the next morning. I felt like such a dude. I can fix cars! That's something that automatically makes a guy feel especially manly.
Just as quickly as it was fixed, nay, even quicker, something else went wrong. The crankshaft pulley (aka wheel connected to the engine that makes all the belts go) fell off. Yeah, that's right. It just fell off. All the belts came loose.
Great.
One step forward, two steps back.
I can't fix that without the tools, so now I've got to have it towed to a shop. La-a-ame.
There are lessons to be learned here:
1. Anyone can fix cars. I mean, if I can, you can.
2. Always have a snack handy in case you get stuck somewhere.
3. No matter how good you feel about something, there's something else that will humble you right after.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Windows Updates? Crap-tastic.
I seriously think that Windows updates its programs to fail.
Seriously.
Media Player used to work fine. Then I downloaded the "upgrade" after months of avoiding it, and now it sucks. Piece of poop.
I think they are intentionally crashing computers so we think they got "old." Then we'll go buy new ones.
Freakin jerks.
Seriously.
Media Player used to work fine. Then I downloaded the "upgrade" after months of avoiding it, and now it sucks. Piece of poop.
I think they are intentionally crashing computers so we think they got "old." Then we'll go buy new ones.
Freakin jerks.
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Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Let It Rock, Wilson Hall
I never thought I would be proud of Wilson Hall.
Check these.
First, three guys from Wilson Hall at Judson (my alma mater) make a silly video.
Then, some girls at Liberty University decide to one up them.
They obviously had no idea what kind of ridiculous ambition and tenacity Wilson has.
It leaves a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth. I lived in Wilson for a year, then became an RA in the "rival" dorm, Lindner. I always said the Wilson/Lindner rivalry was like the White Sox/Cubs one: Sox fans hate Cubs fans, and Cubs fans don't know there's another team in Chicago. Replace "Sox fans" with "Wilson", "Cubs fans" with "Lindner", and "Chicago" with "Judson", and you've pretty much got a feel of the situation.
It wouldn't have been so bad except that residents, student leaders, and RA's took it to a point that was more personal than it was spirited, and it actually hurt more than it helped. At least for me. I have a bitterness toward the hall, which is hard to get over.
Even still, if every college student at least had the opportunity to participate in something like this video (just one of the many exciting ventures WH residents may enjoy), I think they will have a more fulfilling college experience. And that, there, is the sweetness.
Check these.
First, three guys from Wilson Hall at Judson (my alma mater) make a silly video.
Then, some girls at Liberty University decide to one up them.
They obviously had no idea what kind of ridiculous ambition and tenacity Wilson has.
It leaves a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth. I lived in Wilson for a year, then became an RA in the "rival" dorm, Lindner. I always said the Wilson/Lindner rivalry was like the White Sox/Cubs one: Sox fans hate Cubs fans, and Cubs fans don't know there's another team in Chicago. Replace "Sox fans" with "Wilson", "Cubs fans" with "Lindner", and "Chicago" with "Judson", and you've pretty much got a feel of the situation.
It wouldn't have been so bad except that residents, student leaders, and RA's took it to a point that was more personal than it was spirited, and it actually hurt more than it helped. At least for me. I have a bitterness toward the hall, which is hard to get over.
Even still, if every college student at least had the opportunity to participate in something like this video (just one of the many exciting ventures WH residents may enjoy), I think they will have a more fulfilling college experience. And that, there, is the sweetness.
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