CiL

I'm not going to write too too much about last week's Computers in Libraries conference. This isn't a work blog, after all, and I do not make a habit of reading all the brightest and most prolific minds out there in the glamourous world of librarianship. I hope they will all forgive me that transgression.

I'm torn, though, on the conference, and it may take me time to process. Funnily enough, I actually think I may want to go back next year. We'll see.

Big names there, or names who think they're big. A few of the egos need a bit of a pin prick, I'm sorry to say, and there was more than a faint whiff of cliquery and, well, male cattle feces. The Puritan in me also has some small scorn not for the rampant drinking itself but for the idiotic pride people took in being hungover the day after. Let that be an end to my scathing critique.

Still, there were some great presentations. I unabashedly point to my roommate for the conference, Brian, as the lead example. He spoke on e-books, and he was head and shoulders above so many others. I was very proud of him.


His good friend Bobbi (the redheaded woman in the shot above and in several other shots) spoke a few times, and I was impressed by her content, her manner, and her outfits. Great shoes, but I think Jodie won that contest.

There were good people to dine with - I found the Brussels sprouts at Zaytinya memorable among the dishes the group

of us had, and the entire evening at Jaleo on the last night to be quite fantastic.





I think the take away I really got from the conference was being able to talk about libraries and library technology with people outside the usual ALA bubble. That much I appreciated. And Brian, whom I had known virtually thanks to the magic of Twitter and then Facebook turned out to be a very engaging and sweet young man. Martin and Todd are safe - they are my set ALA roomies - but Brian is a good candidate for other conferences, or so I hope.

speaking of fabulous shirts

Let it be known that the shirt Brian is wearing is mine, a treasure from the most recent NZ trip. And I look fabulous in it. So does he, though. Also, it looked good on TK, I have to say, though he might argue that point.

My shirt? Less fabulous, but I do like how well I'm sucking in my gut there. Not a bad shirt on me all in all.

;-)

29

Thank you Iowa!

Going by my friend Geoff's rules on what constitutes visiting a state (or province, or country), I am now up to 29.

The rules:

• Must leave the airport
• Must do one of the following:

1. use a lavatory
2. eat a meal
3. sleep overnight

Almost two weeks ago now (!!), I got in the car and hauled myself (and another librarian) across the flaaaaat expanse of Illinois, stopped for a delicious lunch, drove over the Mississippi, and on in to Iowa as far as Iowa City. A small conference, a presentation to be made. Not at the University, mind you, though I got a bit of a look at what seemed to be a handsome campus.
No, I mostly stuck to the small area around the hotel on my one night stay.


I wish I'd seen more.

That said, I will credit Iowa for this: New Zealand soft licorice in the store. I was so very tempted to by up all the bags!

Buster (and not just him)

I'm breaking up the recent travel posts into smaller parcels, focusing on certain aspects rather than lengthy missives or overviews of days on end. And on a day that found me immensely frustrated with (and totally bitter at) work, what better thing to blog about than the new guy in my life. I'm a fool for him, and he knows it.

Buster.



Ah Buster, a handsome, happy dog. Could a guy ask for more. His partner in crime is Coney, and together the two rule the Baltimore home owned by my best friend Todd and his partner Michael. I spent one night with them all, and Buster knew he had an easy mark in me. I spent much of the Sunday night with either his head or his butt parked in or by my lap, and anytime I let up with petting and stroking him, he made it clear I wasn't done.

The next day, he walked me around the lake. Sunny morning, TK and Coney alongside. Best Monday ever, as an earlier post mentioned.

Coney is a little less demanding of attention, and it comes on her terms: when she's had enough, that's it. Simple as that. She was good to me, but Buster got his hooks in me something fierce.

Ah, but I have a secret from Buster and Coney: there's another girl in my life. Maggie. Sweetest girl ever, loves chasing things, glad to lick your face all over and non-stop. She lives with Geoff and Kent in DC, and I daresay she rules the roost there, too.

Conrad and I don't have dogs - we live too selfish and nomadic a life to provide a dog with attention and care. I have to say, though, that for one weekend in DC and Baltimore, it was nice to pretend and have that extra bit of affection flowing both ways.

yep, still gay

I've said it before, and I cannot repudiate it: this shirt is totally a gay figure skating shirt.



But I love it, and I rock it. So there. Carry on...

perfect day

Easing myself back into blogging with a simple entry on a sunny Sunday.

We've been productive today, both of us. Conrad is in the kitchen (at my usual spot) whiling away on some work he brought home. So far today we've also done all the laundry (including a whole bunch of linens) and I have baked some cookies for him to bring in to work. I've written thank you notes, e-mailed my best friend a newsy note, chatted with another friend, and posted recent photos to Flickr. Plus we got groceries, went for an early morning coffee while laundry was on the go, and made it into downtown.

All this BEFORE going to Yoshi's!

:-)

It's been a perfect Sunday, truly. A full and restful night of sleep. A gloriously sunny (though not totally warm) day out there. Flowers and young leaves in full evidence about the town.



Conrad and I had planned to go down to Nordstrom and shop a little - he wanted some nice slacks to keep up in Vancouver. En route, we got to talking about new restaurants to try and ones to go back to, and that got us to thinking of Terzo Piano at the Art Institute. By the time we got a parking spot on Grand, we changed our minds, drove farther south, and headed for AIC.

We got to the Art Institute and parked with about 15 minutes to spare until our reservation for lunch. Great timing - that left us an easy stroll through the nearby part of Millennium Park and over the Nichols Bridgeway to the Modern Wing. Views and sun and flowers and people. What a great day. We could have lingered more, I think, were we not starting to feel a few pangs.







I didn't photograph lunch, I just enjoyed it. That's fine. It's not always about the food (though it is a fine restaurant). Having eaten, we went down to go through the Matisse exhibit, and then took a slightly roundabout drive home to go through the park a bit and just enjoy the day all that much more.

Yoshi's is ahead, and that will be good, too - food and a drink, friends at the bar, my handsome man


(isn't he adorable in those shots - I'm so glad to be home with him after all the travel we each have had!). If I can finish the night with some chat with my best friend, then truly, I can say it was a perfect day.

equation

A simple mathematical equation:

Best friend


+

This dish


+

Awesome dogs


+

A good conference roomie


=

Best Monday I can remember. A hint of blog posts to come in the week ahead!

holy doodle!

3 weeks? Bad Peter! Bad bad Peter!

Blogging takes dedication, and I have been remiss. Once in a while I actually think to myself that I should ease out of writing this blog, in fact. It was a very good thing for Dad to read, to keep up on how things were going with me here in Chicago, and brighten up his last months some. Once in a while I feel a little purposeless with the blogging, I admit.

Ah well, no down spirits. It's been a perfect spring day, and truly one of the best weeks ever (or, at least, in a mighty long time).

For now, a hello. Postings in the week ahead to catch you 3 or 4 out there up on what I've been doing...

fried pockets

In the old days at the restaurants, we would make empanadas from time to time. Not often, as I recall - they can be time-consuming to produce. Make the fillings. Make the dough. Press the dough. Fill the empanadas and seal them. Fry. Many steps for something that really is kind of a snack food deep down inside.

Still, they satisfy two very fundamental likes of mine:

1. they are Mexican food.
2. they are fried

Fried pockets of goodness, depending what you put in them, of course.

I had made some for Conrad, Martin, Carrie, and me last Saturday, and they turned out well. The next day, a client/friend of Conrad's was in town, and Conrad - still not 100% - wanted to have a casual dinner to entertain him. Happily, the dough is a quick task, and I had plenty of leftover fillings.

Two batches, then. This time I caught a few photos, both from the cooking process
and the final product, plus the table all set. I don't think it was too awful to serve sort-of leftovers for dinner to Conrad's friend JJ last Sunday. I mean, I look at that plate of little fried pockets, and I remember how warm and tender they were with a bit of crispness to the crust. Mmmmm....

this is what 5:55 AM looks like

Frankly, I will not be unhappy when it looks a whole lot lighter. And leafier. I don't mind the getting up around 4:40 in the morning to be down at the rec centre on campus for its 6:00 opening, but I will embrace it all the more when it's daylight out and I can see green leaves and flowers around.

Still, for those of you for whom times before 8:00 AM are abstract concepts, here's what it actually looks like...

Silver Fox

There is a long list of men in my life with whom I'm a tiny bit smitten. I don't mean in love with in the Conrad way, no. But there are some sweet, cute, hot, funny guys whom I just once in a while think, hmmmm.... And then I shake my head and remember how happy and well off I am.

Let's see (in alphabetical order), some examples:

Brett

David

Greg

Luis

(with apologies to all the other handsome men I know who I did not add to this particular list - some of you very definitely know who you are!)

And then there's the Silver Fox in all his silvery foxiness. Ah Dale. Handsome and charming. Snarky as all get out. Southern. Did I mention silvery and foxy?

Dale came to town last weekend for a few days of courses. I ended up backing out of Tuesday dinner with him and Max, but I did get a Sunday afternoon to enjoy his fine company.

We shopped.


We went to Bin 36 for drinks and a very late lunch/snack.

And the whole while I basked in his foxiness
and was content. Well, the service was a little off at Bin 36, but the cheeses were fine.

Sadly, I will not see him on my quick jaunt to Baltimore next month, but I will get to meet up with him (and his partner, Steven) in DC in June. Small delights to look forward to...

vegetarian non-garlic dinner: addendum

This photo reminds me that our other roomie was missing. We'll look forward to having TK with us in DC (and conferences beyond). And one day, I hope, he'll be dining here in our home in Chicago.

But really, any time I can see Martin or Todd or both WITHOUT any bloody committee meetings or conference activities to schedule around is very much a small victory.