ALLEGORICAL LIFE: I just found this picture, which I took the morning after my brother Kyle took a full bag of garbage down three (or was it four?) flights of fire-escape stairs. It was late at night after we’d been out for awhile, so no one noticed that Kyle was gone for about half an hour. As it turns out, the bag of garbage ripped and he spent the majority of that time gathering week-old garbage from the fire escape at about 2 a.m. In this picture, I feel like he still looks like he’s pissed. Like my cat Tiger looked when I’d dress her up in doll clothes (give me a break; I was six). But, for you, Kyle, life is rarely a broken bag of garbage in the middle of the night. Congratulations on your new job. And I promise I won’t fall asleep outside of your house this spring.
Brunch at Sweet Melissa’s: Asparagus, cheddar, and ham omelette. Fresh fruit. Cinnamon-y coffee. Warm breeze. Tra. la. la.
Hiking on the Tow Path: Is it possible there is a river and a forest in the middle of Cleveland, literally a mile from my house? I am just assuming it’s some sort of magical alternaworld, otherwise, how is it possible that there’s this much green space 10 feet from Steelyard Commons? Canals on the left, river on the right, fisher folk sitting on buckets all over the place. We made it more than 8 miles with a little running and a lot of walking. I realize I’m mostly not writing in complete sentences although I’m not sure why I’m doing it. Blame the open windows.
80 degrees.
Dinner from the market (on the porch): Kabobs with veggies and chicken. Salad with cilantro, mango dressing, tomatillos, and tomatoes.
Mad Men Season 4: Finally.
EXISTENTIALISM ON THURSDAY NIGHT: Every Thursday Ryan and I bowl in the basement of the Winking Lizard in Lakewood with Pete and Erin. We play in a league, so usually our scores count in some sort of competition, but a few weeks ago our scores didn’t really matter, so I stopped trying so hard. I just whacked the ball down the lane without bothering to really aim or even wait to see where it was going.
I was kind of surprised to see that it really didn’t make that dramatic of a difference in my score — maybe 10 percent at the most. I brought this up to Erin, and one of us proposed the idea that maybe all things are like that: if we really try, push ourselves to our edges, there is one outcome, but if we sort-of try, maybe the outcome isn’t really all that different. It makes me wonder whether putting in hours of effort in things — how we look, how good we are at our jobs — really makes a noticeable difference in the long run, or if we essentially are what we are. In the end, maybe it would be fun to not try so hard, to really hurl the ball into oblivion without aim or strategy, to not even watch for the outcome, and just see how things turn out.
New Hobby: Ryan and I have been leaving weird notes on receipts at restaurants. Check out our latest installment from last Friday night out at Bac, which is always fabulous.
C-Town Chow Down — If there weren’t so many black pea coats, I’d think I was looking at the lines for the bathroom at Bonnaroo. I know, kind of gross. This just proves that there’s one thing we Clevelanders will line up for two hours in 30-degree weather for: delicious food. Ryan, my 
dad, and I braved the sunny semi-chill for Dim and Den Sum (one of several trucks parked in Tremont’s Lincoln Park) and some free orange juice and champagne. Overall, it wasn’t a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Although it’ll be even more pleasant when they do it again in April, it’s 75 degrees, and I bring a set of chairs. And Dim and Den Sum is promising a 30-minute-wait-or-your-money-back guarantee at the next one, according to their Facebook page, so I’d come again. My food was an amazing pile-o-pototato-and-truffle perogie. It had Cleveland tofu and some 
sort of sweet delicious brown sauce on top. Click here to get Facebook updates. The next event is in April.
All You Do Is Eat: False. Sometimes I drink coffee. See below.
Civilization: Nothing says civilization like a bunch of strangers willing to sit in a room together drinking coffee. Why are we all hanging out? No good reason. I love that. My favorite coffee-drinking/grading spot in my neighborhood is Civilization, which has cool wooden tables and random crap all over the place, which, of course, makes me feel right at home. Today was especially fantastic. On the way there three separate old men (two who had dogs) said good morning, and one of them was one of my favorite people in my neighborhood, the Polish priest with the Pomeranian. In addition to his pleasantness, I also like all those “P”s in my head. When I finally got to Civilization, I found a tiny wooden table and got to work on my juniors’ essays while eavesdropping on the older couple sitting about 8 inches away who were recounting their adventures abroad and making plans to go for a bike ride next weekend. They must have been on to me because the guy asked if I wanted to go with them next weekend. I said yes, of course.
Gardens and Dresses: I just bought a dress from Anthropologie mostly because it’s named Tuileries, which is a garden in Paris. I mostly love this word because of how it sounds (TWEE-lur-EE). Say it out loud; it’s beautiful. Every time the subway in Paris arrives at that metro stop, the ladyrobot voice says it out loud. I wish I lived in Paris for that reason alone. TWEE-lur-EE! And, yes, I realize how ironic this purchase is given the next entry…
Students Being Brilliant: Rebecca wrote this in her informal essay about Whitman’s “Song o
f Myself” and a novella called “The Old Man Who Read Love Stories”: “Life would be so different without money. It’s almost impossible to imagine living off yourself and the land. It’s such an intensely difficult thing to picture. It would be scary too, to set off on your own and create. Maybe that’s why people are so hesitant to be rid of material things; we’re scared to set off on our own and not follow the group. And many people will never know whether life should be more about material things or not without being bold, living a different life.” Writing wise, it’s not perfect, but what an interesting thought. I love when they think.
Writers Being Brilliant, Too: If you liked Nicole Krauss’s The History of Love, read her new book Great House. It’s darker, but just as gorgeous. It, like her earlier book, has moments where you pause, put the book down, and think, “I don’t need to read any more because this book could not get any more beautiful.” I’ll warn you, though, it is filled with sadness.
Spring Break Snow: It’s spring break, and it’s snowing. Oh-hio. It is kind of pretty.
Found: Last summer I went downtown to meet Mike and Tim before a concert. Somehow, I lost the parking garage ticket and had to pay about $30 to get out. I’ve been waiting, ever since, for the ticket to show up because I knew I didn’t lose it. And it was in my wallet. I’ve been carrying it around for months. That seems symbolic somehow.
You, yes, you: Mark and Jeannie it was great to see both of you last night. I’m psyched the end is in sight, but I’ll be sad when I have no soul-crushing papers about which to commiserate with the both of you. You both make me smarter. Ann Marie you are days away from domestic kitchenbliss. I will buy you an apron. Sara, I’m jazzed to see you and baby Jack tomorrow. Jen and Moffat, I still have not completely recovered from our “happy hour.” We should go to hot yoga more often, mostly so we can overstay our welcome at Cravings. Parents and Kyle — 89 days until our epic boating adventure. Erin and Pete — This time, the Kitty Cat Club is taking first place. Ryan — although it wasn’t quite Mexico, lunch was still nice. Susan and Raychill — soon! Melissa and Tracy — sending good thoughts! Christine — brought up your crazyrunning in conversation yesterday.
WHERE YOU SHOULD BE ON SUNDAY: I’ve been hoping the universe will somehow place me and Ryan next to Dim and Den Sum — Cleveland’s raddest food truck — at a time when I’m hungry, but everytime I walk by, I’ve just (I mean minutes before) eaten. (Maybe I eat too much. Or maybe I eat at 5:30 p.m. too often. I blame my parents). But, for once, the universe is in order, and Dim and Den Sum’s truck will be in Tremont before most of the city folk have a chance to be full. At 11 a.m. (until 3 p.m.) at Lincoln Park, what looks like a gala, a parade, a festival, a riot of food trucks will commence. They’re calling it “C-Town Chow Down.” Here’s the rest of the list, so far: Seti’s Polish Boys, Cakes Plus’s – Traveling Treats, Umami Moto, StrEat Mobile Bistro, Jibaro, Pranzo Forno Wood Fired Pizza, and Oh! Babycakes.
This is such a good thing for Cleveland. It’s like a whole new industry of eateries, and, though I admittedly don’t know much about food service, it seems like a great way to start a new business, get customers, and it could potentially create all kinds of fantastic jobs for emerging foodartists in what is already a great food town. Ryan and I will be there — let me know if you want to meet up! Click here for the Facebook page with more info. Get some good brunch, support an emerging industry, play in the park, and, of course, enjoy the drum circle.
THE SMITHS LIKE TRUCKS, TOO: “And if a 10-ton truck/kills the both of us/to die by your side/Well, the pleasure — the priviledge — is mine”
CLEVELAND RENAISSANCE (OR IS IT EARLY MODERN?): Thanks to my former co-worker Jeremy for sharing this one on Facebook: Smithsonian Magazine says more than just the trees are coming back to life in C-town. We’re all about due for a Renaissance. One good line: “Unlike the gaudy attractions of New York or Chicago, which advertise themselves at every opportunity, Cleveland’s treasures require a taste for discovery.”
This Wednesday, I was all set to watch a bunch of realitrash on DVR when, on a whim, I starting digging up information on Charles Chesnutt, an author I’m thinking about writing about this summer for my master’s essay.
I’ve been kind of into him since I took a realism class about five years ago. He was the first African-American to be published in The Atlantic Monthly. He was born in and died in Cleveland, and, although he moved around a bit, he did most of his writing here.
Anyway, I did a search for the house he lived in until his death in 1932, and he only lived 10 minutes from my house on a street off Chester called Lamont. I had about 30 minutes until sunset, so I got in my car with my dog and headed on over.
Sadly, his house is long gone, replaced by a school, and the neighborhood
needs a bit of a revival of its own. There used to be a historical marker, but according to a Cleveland historian’s blog, it was stolen a few years ago. It doesn’t look like it was ever replaced.
I find myself so drawn to the places where authors lived, wrote, died, and I wonder how important it is to retain those places. For me, it’s like the ghost of that author’s life. It’s like being able to step into the past and into the context in which their work is written. Like the writing becomes a place and not just a thing. And although it probably isn’t financially the biggest priority in the world right now, I can’t help but feel a true sense of this town when I stand in the place where the author of great words once walked.
“There’s time enough, but none to spare.” — Charles Chesnutt
It’s not summer, but it’s time to start buying tickets for it. There are few things about summer that I like more than road trips and outdoor music. Here are some shows within driving distance that look like they’ll kind of rock.
Railroad Revival Tour — Thanks to my fabulous friend Jeannie for posting about this tour — a six-city, down-South road trip in which Mumford and Sons, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros and Old Crowe Medicine Show will travel by vintage rail car from city to city. Even though I think Mumford is the poor-man’s Avett Brothers, this still makes me want to tie a bag onto a stick and hop on a train Water for Elephants style.
Mountain Jam — How could something called Mountain Jam not be amazing? Outdoor Air, and this one actually does have the Avett Brothers. It sounds like banjo-bonanza.
Nelsonville Music Festival — Speaking of banjos, Kyle has been talking about this one for years, and I haven’t been…yet. But I did notice Bomba Estereo (who we saw last year at Bonnaroo) will be there. And it might be worth it for them alone. Latin music in southern Ohio — Appalachia, you always get it right.
There were several things that were less-than-stellar about my day today,
but here are a few things that were quite stellar:
1. Today I used the phrase egress hence in my 11th grade class, and two kids knew what it meant. Jake, who paraphrased it, and Andy, who knew its exact definition. And both of them remember it from when we read Whitman’s “Song of Myself.” I love that phrase. And I loooooove Whitman. Yawp! (Photo right: The Gap of Dunloe in Killarney, Ireland; a departure from this place, if you will).
2. Ryan volunteered to go buy our groceries tonight because I’m still sick and have grading to do. Ryan, you rock the grocery cart. And my heart.
3. A girl on the school newspaper who works so hard but doesn’t get a lot of accolades in life just had one of her school newspaper articles published in a national online publication that selects some of the best student articles in nationwide and posts them daily. Hurray for the underdog! Hard work does pay off sometimes.
4. Ann Marie and her “moral obligation to be happy.” Why the f*** not, right?
5. It’s six o’clock, and sunset is nowhere in sight.
6. This song is on my January mix, and I keep listening to it even though it’s way past January. Because it makes me happy. Be happy, too. Click play.
I’ve been supersick all weekend, but that didn’t stop me from gallivanting all over my neighborhood Friday night with Ryan. It did, however, stop me from doing anything like gallivanting all day Saturday and Sunday. And I was so sad to miss two hours of straight tap (I mean that without a shred of sarcasm). Even though I’m secretly kind of excited that the Warrior Dash has coincided with the tap recital this year because Mimi’s extravagance in choreography is just a little too reminiscent of her Rockette days and might lead to even more embarrassment than a tap recital for a 30-year-old might typically entail. (Photo left: Professor street on Art Walk Friday). That being said, here are a few fun new things I’ve found recently:
Another Sugarshop in Tremont: Ryan and I stopped by the temporary but gorgeous Yellowcake store on Professor Friday. Cleveland designer Valerie Mayen of Project Runway fame has the storefront across from Pinky’s Daily Planner decked out in warm light, complimentary cupcakes, and beautifully designed coats. One of my fabulously talented students has been working for her, and I applaud any designer who’s willing to give a talented young person a chance. She also uses local sew-folk, donates some of her profits every year to charity, and started an organization called Buzz & Growl where young designers can get access to professional equipment. Check out Mayen’s blog or her store on Etsy. Mayen’s site says she’s a transplant — we’re lucky to have her in Cleveland. (Photo right: Yellowcake’s shop on Professor is open again next weekend, Mayen said.)
Adorable Art: I’m in love with Cleveland artist and illustrator Barry Gott’sbuildings on legs. I just bought the Tremont version a few weeks ago at an arts fair in Ohio City, but he has plenty of other fabulous Cleveland-centric illustrations. I also love this one, called Winter Fox. When it comes to animals, doesn’t everyone kind of fancy the fox? I just read in “National Geographic” that people are keeping them as pets. Not surprising, really. They’re almost as adorable as Gott’s buildings. Cleveland has never been cuter.