Yankee Scouser

Back to the ol' bloggy.

2008-11-07T08:02:00.000-08:00

I'd love to do a farewell piece, but I have not the time. While you wait for closure, mosey on back to my old blog.

NPR Radiolab did a piece on sleeping...

2008-08-27T08:45:00.001-07:00

... so did xkcd. Thanks, Thelms.

There has been no p in the pool this summer. Just liver.

2008-08-24T08:40:00.000-07:00

I was complaining (a thing I try hard not to do very often) to a few friends this weekend that I could not stand another straight day of rainfall. I figured I could probably count on one hand the number of days it didn't rain this summer. Then I got curious.

Today is the 24th of August.

According to MyForecast, there have been 23 days of precipitation in August. And today isn't over yet.

July had 23 days of precipitation.

June had 22.

May had 22.

So it seems I may have exaggerated slightly. But I maintain that I was traveling for at least some of them. Speaking of traveling, I must admit in fairness that most days have brief moments of sun as well. However, I am usually not traveling (via B-M-double-pied) to or from work in the aforementioned moments. As a result, I often arrive looking like this and smelling of mildew.

I was also lamenting yesterday that I had not had a chance to use the swimsuit I brought with me at all. Perhaps I should wear it to work Tuesday. I never thought I would say this, but I am looking forward to going back to Utah if only for this reason (and my lovely friends, of course). I also now feel more keenly my freudian misunderstanding of the lyrics to the song I thought was "I saw the sun."

Wrist Slap!

2008-08-08T15:04:00.000-07:00

It was the best of blog times, it was the worst of blog times. I have been so exceedingly busy, as evidenced by the fact that I've been chained to my computer. Here are some pictures, because I know that's really what you're here for.

I got a new camera.

I went to France. This is me and John Lennon (not to be confused with Lenin).

This is my niece (well, one of them).

This is a berry that nobody can identify. It is not a strawberry.

This is a horse. Oh, and my niece and frere-in-law.

I notice strange things:

He is in repose. Everything is illuminated? Anyone? I paid Jaron's respects, which he didn't remember us talking about in the end, but I'm still glad I paid someone's respects. Poor man.

I can't really say why, but I love the colors in the Paris airport lounges.

Matt... the joy of my Monday

2008-07-21T02:37:00.000-07:00

Maybe I should be a journalist, after all, if that means that I can be paid to write in world-class newspapers about a guy who travels the world doing some fancy footwork and enthusiastic fist-pumping. Happy Monday! (Mine was, due to this).

The Girl Effect

2008-07-04T02:06:00.001-07:00

The project that I work for back in the states is writing a book right now. My boss sent us all this link saying that the movie conveys the message of our book. Please watch it, and please take a look at the project website. It's one of the few projects and causes that I can stand behind wholeheartedly, and I'd love for you to become part of it.

My friends and I spent some time planning a "forgive America" party for last year's fourth of July. It was perhaps one of the better plans for an Independence Day party ever made, the main idea being to forgive America for some of the things in its past, and express appreciation for other things about it. I like the idea of celebrating holidays in nontraditional ways, and I think that it would be in line to consider what you will do for this 4th of July. I like the idea of enabling myself (and maybe even others) to change and progress, or break off or become independent from the way that I've become accostomed to living. While I think that there are certain eternal truths, much of our existence would improve by creative living - breaking off from the norm and trying to do things a better, different way. This 4th of July, I've decided to try to reduce the amount I consume, and to be more honest with my time and money in spending it for truly worthy causes or in appropriate ways. I am refusing to give myself permission to be mediocre according to what I believe is right and true.

What will you do?

Being silent isn't being strong

2008-07-02T12:57:00.000-07:00

After setting a bit of a high standard for my blog posts, I've felt intimidated to follow my promises with anything less than an extremely insightful entry. It would probably be most honest to say that I'll continue to write on an array of subjects, some lighter than others, and hopefully we can still get along.

It's been a week since I returned from Poland, and I completed my first book yesterday. I'm still waiting for the Iliad, but I did have Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.

From the author of the book that inspired one of my favorite movies (Everything is Illuminated), Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close reminded me a bit of Slaughterhouse-Five in the way that it dealt with time.

Without giving too much away, there were a few quotes that I found particularly true and striking especially in consideration with recent events in my life and the lives of those close to me.

The first quote that I want to share deals with the title of this post, which is also a sticker I saw on UofL campus this past week. It reminded me that at times we give ourselves permission to not be outstanding in a literal sense; I have decided to try and live a life that I consider honest to my beliefs and morals in everything from living the gospel to boycotting Nestle products. At times, this is tiring and I have taken the approach of stepping back into the shadows and being, in some way, silent. I found this passage encouraging:

"... we were determined to ignore whatever needed to be ignored, to build a new world from nothing if nothing in our world could be salvaged, it was one of the best days of my life, a day during which I lived my life and didn't think about my life at all" (28). To me, this speaks of a willingness to persevere in affecting positive change around ourselves to the point where doing what feels most honest and right ceases to be a struggle and starts to become natural to us. While I think that progression is rarely comfortable, I think that is it possible to reach a state of mind where doing the best thing comes as second nature. I am trying to get there now.

I also think that, in a way, this quote speaks to the concern aired in the recent op-ed of the NYT by Friedman, who was quoting the Wall Street Journal's Seib stating that "'America and its political leaders, after two decades of failing to come together to solve big problems, seem to have lost faith in their ability to do so... A political system that expects failure doesn’t try very hard to produce anything else.'" One of the conversations that I had in Poland touched upon this issue on a very personal level, reminding me of something I'd once heard from a person I respect deeply. I think that it applies to everyone, but that doesn't make it less true. I won't quote directly, but I'll say it to you the way she said it to me. You need to start loving yourself to be able to love others better. The holes we have in our self-esteem make it difficult to let others in, but when you do everything in your life improves. Most importantly, once you are able to let others in, you must expect to be loved back. Unconditionally. Believing in your own potential is perhaps one of the most difficult and intimidating but essential and important things to do in life, especially at our age. If we expect failure (or mediocrity, or anything but excellence), we don't try very hard to produce anything else.

On a slightly different note, I loved this next passage - it filled me with the emotion that I feel at the end of a poignant film or even on a long layover in a foreign airport:

"I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone, I sit on the side with a coffee and write in my daybook, I examine the flight schedules that I've already memorized, I observe, I write... being here fills my heart with so much joy, even if the joy isn't mine, and at the end of the day I fill the suitcase with old news."

I was taken with the way that the book deals with love and the human experience. There are some great one-liners (even better in context. read the book):

"We stopped laughing, I took the world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question: 'Do you like me?'"

"that's all anyone wants from anyone else, not love itself but the knowledge that love is there, like new batteries in the flashlight in the emergency kit in the hall closet." (which reminds me of the epic scene in Magnolia (which I saw when I thought I was seeing Steel Magnolias, which I was not, which is a story for another day) where the grown child star gets braces to impress the bartender and upon disappointment says "I have so much love to give. I just don't know where to put it." It might not sound moving, but it was heartwrenching in context).

"You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness."

"Anyone who believes that a second is faster than a decade did not live my life."

"It's the tragedy of loving, you can't love anything more than something you miss."

I am going to finish this post, mostly because I'm afraid that I'm not doing this book justice. The following passages was one of the most moving that I read in the book; although I have been blessed to be isolated enough to have never seen war first-hand, but what I have seen in documentaries, photos, and art leaves my head echoing the closing line:

"INTERVIEWER. Did you see the mushroom cloud?

TOMOYASU. No, I didn't see the cloud.

INTERVIEWER. You didn't see the mushroom cloud?

TOMOYASU. I didn't see the mushroom cloud. I was trying to find Masako.

INTERVIEWER. But the cloud spread over the city?

TOMOYASU. I was trying to find her. They told me I couldn't go beyond the bridge. I thought she might be back home, so I turned around. I was at the Nikitsu Shrine when the black rain started falling from the sky. I wondered what it was.

INTERVIEWER. Can you describe the black rain?

TOMOYASU. I waited for her in the house. I opened the windows, even though there was no glass. I stayed awake all night waiting. But she didn't come back. About 6:30 the next morning, Mr. Ishido came around. His daughter was working at the same office as my daughter. He called out asking for Masako's house. I ran outside. I called, "It's here, over here!" Mr. Ishido came up to me. He said, "Quick! Get some clothes and go for her. She is at the bank of the Ota River."
I ran as fast as I could. Faster than I was able to run. When I reached the Tokiwa Bridge, there were soldiers lying on the ground. Around Hiroshima Station, I saw more people lying dead. There were more on the morning of the seventh than on the sixth. When I reached the riverbank, I couldn't tell who was who. I kept looking for Masako. I heard someone crying, "Mother!" I recognized her voice. I found her in horrible condition. And she still appears in my dreams that way. She said, "It took you so long."
I apologized to her. I told her, "I came as fast as I could."
It was just the two of us. I didn't know what to do. I was not a nurse. There were maggots in her wounds and a sticky yellow liquid. I tried to clean her up. But her skin was peeling off. The maggots were coming out all over. I couldn't wipe them off, or I would wipe off her skin and muscle. I had to pick them out. She asked me what I was doing. I told her, "Oh, Masako. It's nothing." She nodded. Nine hours later, she died.

INTERVIEWER. you were holding her in your arms all that time?

TOMOYASU. Yes, I held her in my arms. She said, "I don't want to die." I told her, "You're not going to die." She said, "I promise I won't die before we get home." But she was in pain and she kept crying, "Mother."

INTERVIEWER. It must be hard for you to talk about these things.

TOMOYASU. When I heard that your organization was recording testimonies, I knew I had to come. She died in my arms, saying, "I don't want to die." That is what death is like. It doesn't matter what uniforms the soldiers are wearing. It doesn't matter how good the weapons are. I thought if everyone could see what I saw, we would never have war anymore."

I do believe that there is much in our world to be salvaged, but I think that if we expect nothing but a repeat of history, if we accept the idea that war is inevitable, if we are content with living a life insulated from our potential to affect change, that is what we will have.

Being silent isn't being s t r o n g.

Poland

2008-06-26T10:18:00.000-07:00

I've spoken to several of you already about your anticipation of my blog entries on the trip. This is extremely intimidating.

Most of my photos actually didn't turn out very well... it looks like my camera is becoming progressively more broken. However, I got a few good shots and will hopefully post some of my favorites from others on the trip as I receive them.

I am sitting here in the smelliest jeans imaginable writing after 22 hours of transit home and a day of work, but I have to brace you, readers, for what is coming.

I think that looking back on this trip, I will decide that it was one of the more important trips of this part of my life. We all need a personal renaissance from time to time, and I believe that this has been one of mine. The things I saw, heard, and thought about around and during this trip to Poland have led me to a series of conclusions about my life and how I've been living it.

There are a lot of things that I have been putting off because I "don't have the time right now" or "there are just better things to be spending my time and money on." While I still think it's important to choose carefully how we spend time and money, I am tired of putting off the things that I have been putting off since I was in high school. They're not going to go away, so I might as well dive in.

The two largest things I have been putting off for memorable recent history are reading and learning more about non-classical music. I have a reading list as long as the distance between the airport I was re-routed through and my house in Liverpool, and mental notes on twice as many artists.

I am also trying to apologize less for doing what feels honest to me.

My point in telling you these things is that you may find my blogs touching on subjects that make you uncomfortable... force you to take a hard look at the way you're living your life... and perhaps even invite lasting and unexpected change. I'm not going to preach, but I will be using this as an outlet for my musings on the books I read in the next two months, from Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close to Mountains Beyond Mountains to The Iliad to Into the Wild to Pathologies of Power.

I hope you will still be my friend while I explore the books and songs and movies that have been waiting far too long for me. I'm not sure how it will be.

"i accept chaos. i am not sure whether it accepts me."

Adventures in Equal Parenting

2008-06-12T02:20:00.000-07:00

Wow, I would love for you to tell me what you think of this article. Watch the video, too!

It's geek squad hardcore.

2008-06-11T16:50:00.000-07:00

Earlier today, I was clued in to a very amusing spot on marketing yogurt to women:

Some favorite lines include "say some more things that I generically relate to, and then go to a wedding!" and "it's first woman president good... EAT IT."

On my way out the door this morning I won my very first battle wound of this type. It was good, a yogurt advert might say, hardcore good. As many of you know, I'm quite an avid runner. Like most sports (yes, running is a sport people... I WILL fight you about this), there is a certain status associated with mild injuries, especially those that bleed. This injury was hardcore-bleeding-but-not-inhibitive-of-play-injury good.

Why, then, am I not smiling? I actually managed to incur an injury by dropping my laptop on myself. This rivals the time I had to get stitches from my glasses cutting my face when I faceplanted into the cement while giving a classmate a piggyback ride in the fourth grade.

Perhaps I should be grateful, rather than be ashamed. Long the technological black sheep of my geeky-with-social-skills family, I finally have something to show. A rite of passage. Embarrassing, triumphant, telling, whatever - I am now a contender in the techy scene. When people sit around discussing their internet speeds or how they've learned the new web programming language and I can point to my leg scar.

"Shaving?"
"Mac."

It's geek squad hardcore.

These windbags will fix everything.

2008-06-08T10:42:00.000-07:00

As a child, I played normal nintendo. That's right, we're talking pre-super nintendo, pre-sony playstation, pre-gamecube and pre-x-box, just to name a few. I enjoyed such gems as Paperboy, Dr. Mario, Duck Hunt (no actual birds were hurt in the playing of this game) and, my personal favorite, Battletoads. As our nintendo aged, we came across the common problem of a faulty connection between the game cartridge and the nintendo. Ingeniously, we somehow thought to solve this problem by blowing on it. "Maybe it's dusty," we thought. Or, as we got older, "Maybe the water/saliva molecules in our breath actually improve the connection because it is a conductor." Whatever the reason, our blowing treatments increased in frequency, length, and intensity. They never failed (not even for Mystery Quest, which would have been a blessing. I'm fairly certain not even the programmers knew what the quest was).

So what? So my childhood left me with the firm belief that you can fix anything by using those two sacks of air called lungs. French people also hold this belief, if you've ever seen them get upset. Bus late? Purse those lips and have a go at it. First one to pass out wins. You can imagine the problems this caused when confronted with new and challenging life situations.

Example 1: late childhood
"Charla, Ben said that you ate the bagels. Did you eat the bagels?"

"No."

"Well who ate them then? They didn't just evaporate."

"I don't know."

"Go to your --- STOP BLOWING ON ME!"

Example 2: late adolescence
"Charla, I just don't think we should date anymore."

"What? haaaaaaaaaa I haaaaa can't haaaaaa you're breaking haaaaa"

"Charla? Did you hear me? I just want to be ---"

"haaaaa talk to me haaa morrow"

Wait, that worked. Well, at least until we talked in person. He said that my breath smelled like oranges but to please stop. I panicked.

Example 3
I earned a Southwest voucher for taking a later flight at Christmas. I used half of it on my flight from SLC to BWI, and intended to use the other half from BWI to SLC on my return. However, I confused the voucher with my (used) boarding pass and discarded it instead of bringing it with me to use when purchasing the tickets (I couldn't do this before because the flights were too far in advance).

Blow as I might, I am consigned to suck it up (come on, it was clever [haaaaaa haaaaa... see? haaaaaaaa]) and fork out the cash for this one.

A whole batch of cookies for anyone who thinks of a way around this.

P.S. - A note to art students: teachers who say that your upper lip is smaller than your lower one are often wrong. I'm just saying.

In the name of progress.

2008-06-04T10:34:00.000-07:00

I'm seeing Antony Gormley!

2008-05-31T09:45:00.000-07:00

100 of him. On Crosby Beach. It's an art installation (at least that's what we used to call it when the earth was young... meaning back in high school when I took art classes) that piqued my interest when I saw it in some of the tourist stuff I picked up when I first arrived in Liverpool.

Another Place used to be a touring exhibit, but the Brits stole it and are hoarding it now permanently. Not unlike many other things (like socialism), they refuse to share this exhibit with the Americans, who were booked to have it next (in New York). If you look carefully on the sign, it says that is will be there until 2006 (which was true). I wonder if I can use any more parentheses in this blog post (I'm just going out on a limb here, but probably). The pictures in this post are better viewed large. Click on the photo to see a bigger version.

I will now quote the artist statement from the sign, because you probably can't read it.

"The seaside is a good place to [explore man's relationship with nature]. Here time is tested (what? ok) by time, architecture by the elements, and the prevalence of the sky seems to question the earth's substance (hmm). In this work, human life is tested against planetary time. This sculpture exposes to light and time the nakedness of a particular and peculiar body, no hero, no ideal, just the industrially-reproduced body of a middle-aged man trying to remain standing and trying to breathe, facing a horizon busy with ships moving materials and manufactured things around the planet."

Obviously, I think that some of this is a bit waffly (it's ok... we all do it in art at least a little) but some of it is golden. I think the decision to use crosby beach was genius, mostly because check out what looms in the background:

There was something very strange about the way that people interacted with the statues (or didn't).

Perhaps it is my tendency to imagine others' lives, but I found myself wanting to know what they saw.

Some were more subjected to the elements than others. These tended to be the ones further out, less visited, and in the areas that were deemed dangerous by the sign on the beach warning of "soft sand" and "quick tide changes". The sign even cautioned visitors not to even attempt to reach those statues furthest away.

One had gotten caught up in unexpected externalities.

It was a bit eerie that they were all tagged, more or less faceless, and people took pictures, pointed, and talked about them but didn't touch them.

You may be thinking, that's what we usually do with art. There are a lot of things we usually do. Perhaps we could change convention.

As for me, I'm seeing Antony Gormley. And I plan to see him for the rest of my life.

Candide and Marxism 2008

2008-05-30T11:01:00.000-07:00

I'll be honest, I don't really like Candide. It sounded somewhat promising as a satire of optimism, but the cannibalism, bestiality, and overall depressing and disgusting themes of the piece absolutely repulse me. It's not often I stop reading a book before I'm finished it.

In light of what I've been reading about, it seems appropriate to introduce the idea of attending the Marxist festival 2008 in London. If you were me, would you go?

Seriously, I need some opinions.

Click here for more info.

I blew a fuse

2008-05-29T10:38:00.000-07:00

... two days ago. Literally. In the transformer that I use for my laptop which, you may have noticed, I am often on. Although watching that movie about Che was good last night, I needed a backup plan for today.

Hence,

I'm thrilled.

On the fuse subject, I went into Rapid, an extremely classy establishment for all things household (sort of like Home Depot, but spread over an entire street of what was once quaint shops and homes) and the lady there gave me a free fuse. It works! Huzzah!

Lloyd of London

2008-05-25T15:09:00.000-07:00

Not to be confused with the world-renowned insurance company, my good friend Lloyd came up this weekend from London to spend some quality time in Liverpool.

Here are some cool things we did and saw:
Public Art:

LamBanana!!!

Chinatown:

Quiggins @ Grand Central - coolest little collection of shops!

Mathew Street (birthplace of the beatles)

The Cavern Pub - "Where it all began"

Near Mathew Street

More public art: Turning the City Over

The Liver (lie-ver) Building, icon of Liverpool (liv-erpool)

The Egg Cafe in Liverpool

2008-05-23T12:33:00.000-07:00

Fortunately and unfortunately, my good friend Lloyd arrives in Liverpool this evening. This is fortunate because we will have a blast this weekend. This is unfortunate because it means that I need to spend enough time out to be in the city until 10 but not enough time out to really... well, do anything. I decided that tonight was the obvious time to check out the famous Egg Cafe in the Liverpool city centre.

I took some of my own pictures, but I can't upload them right now because I don't have my cord. In the mean time, here are some that I stole from the web:

This one is from an article about the Egg Cafe. I'm not quite sure how I feel about it, because the idea that someone gets into this sort of stuff just to make money on trendy eating is a bit of a turnoff. Probably just because I spent years in high school slaving for nothing (monetarily) to keep an organic supermarket dedicated to low prices and quality (often local) food in business for the first few years of its existence.

I do, however, like the local art displayed here, shown in the next photo:

After walking up a dodgy flight of stairs in an obscure alleyway past an alternative hairdresser and an alternative lifestyle clothing store, I came to a set of exceedingly skinny and closed doors with music and a dull murmur of voices coming from behind it. With no indication of what it was save the sign at the bottom of the three flights of stairs ("cafe on top floor"), I paused for a moment. What if this was the staff entrance and I ended up in the kitchen? That would explain the strange look I got from the man with the green mohawk I'd met going up the stairs. I finally pushed the door that seemed most likely to move and squeezed myself through the cupboard-sized hole towards a friendly-looking woman with slightly garish makeup and matted hair at the counter. Luckily, I asked, but unluckily, they only to find they accept only cash. Supposedly cash from any country, according to the first article I linked to, which is interesting.

Interesting. I can't believe I just used that word.

One short walk to and from the ATM and some excellent Ratatouille, salad, and beans and couscous later, I began doing some extra work as I owe time today. However, in an attempt to save paper, I had printed the report out odd pages first - and neglected to flip it over and print the even ones. Not to be deterred from time-killing in my preferred location, I pulled out the trusty iBook from thelma and checked for wireless. I am now using it at a rate of 2GBP per hour while waiting for Lloyd.

My feelings on the Egg? Good veg and vegan food, great prices (main dishes range from 3 pound to 5.50 - cheap in my book), and a nice atmosphere.

You should come see it. And me.

I am totally speechless. James Brown and Pavarotti.

2008-05-22T06:51:00.001-07:00

A photo says a thousand different words... depending on how you read it.

2008-05-21T14:04:00.000-07:00

The New York Times published an article yesterday that was the first one in months over a page that I read from start to finish. I was hooked, and I don't think it was all about the funnel technique and a brilliant lead. It really made me think. Errol Morris' "The Most Curious Thing" explores the well-known photograph below in a way that only a documentary filmmaker would think to do. I'm not sure exactly what happens when people fight in wars, but it's certainly not easy on them. Read it. It's an interesting commentary on human nature - regarding both how the photo came to be and how it has been - and should be - interpreted.

It's probably not what you think.

You are ace on the dance floor

2008-05-19T09:31:00.000-07:00

Although I write this post at the peril of someone from work actually seeing it, here I go. This weekend was the ASPHER conference at University of Liverpool and for some reason, they were nice enough to let me attend. While it was good from a networking perspective, my favorite part of the weekend were the evenings I spent dancing like a shmaniac at the Cavern.

My favorite favorite part of the weekend was receiving this text from my boss:

And that, ladies and gents, is all you need to know.
Just for kicks, here's a picture of Rach and I being ace on the dance floor at the Guggenheim.

Mirror Quote

2008-05-19T03:03:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed a green piece of paper on my mirror (which appears frequently in this blog). The quote is one of my favorites from David O. McKay and reads,

"Unity and its synonyms—harmony, goodwill, peace, concord, mutual understanding—express a condition for which the human heart constantly yearns."

This is out of control... an outrage.

2008-05-15T14:19:00.000-07:00

Someone needs to contact Amnesty because there are human rights violations going on all over the world. When did we start thinking it was ok to put innocent people in cages?

Someone needs to contact PETA because there are animal rights violations going on all over the world. When did we start thinking it was ok to put innocent animals in cages?

Someone needs to contact common sense. because this is ridiculous:

For those who don't know me well: I'm not trying to make light of the second or especially the first issue. You can go to peta.org to learn more about animal cruelty. Please visit here to learn about the current situation in Burma. But yes, I am making light of the third.

Juss a little bit mo' reason to celebrate!

2008-05-15T02:13:00.000-07:00

While I am unable to access my beloved Pandora in the UK, I am able to access the newly-updated website of one of my very favorite artists.

A pioneer in "sustainable rock 'n' roll," Shake Your Peace is currently doing a fabulous bike tour through the western US. If you're interested, you can read more about it here or here. I am so incredibly bummed to be missing out on this, but being able to listen to their streamed music while in my office at UofL is a small consolation.

My recommendations for newlisteners to Shake Your Peace are "Juss a little bit mo'" "In the Arms of the Gypsy" and "Sky is Blue"... I would love to stop there, but I have to add "On the Hudson." Listen to all of them. One more... "Thinking of you all day."

You won't regret it.

Today I was told I had a "nice figgeh"

2008-05-13T13:06:00.000-07:00

by a construction worker. Quite a far cry from other construction worker comments, say, in the states. Liverpool somehow manages to multitask, being both working-class and dignified... perhaps even classy.

More importantly, I made samosas! I know one is shaped like a spring roll. I do what I want. Including awkward self-photography, just for you. That's how much I care about my reader feedback. You'll note these pictures are in my bedroom. Not only is that where I eat, it's also a much less embarrassing location for auto-photography if you will.

And I will. Please notice here that I'm trying to figure out what's going on. And also my makeshift apron/tea towel.

Note here my food. Yum. I had them with honey and apricot jam, it was fabulous.

Also, this made me think of Parry and Mav.

Liverpool is like ogres.

2008-05-12T14:26:00.000-07:00

Smelly, damp, and green. While this is true, I was of course making a reference to the popular Pixar film Shrek. I have been noticing that Liverpool also has a visible history.

I wonder what this building has been used for?

Here are some others I've noticed:

A guide to the next few posts (Saturday)

2008-05-10T12:55:00.000-07:00

I had an extremely eventful and picture-filled day and decided to break it into several posts, as many of these things have been things I've been thinking about for a while and just got the chance to photograph today. Many people have asked me what Liverpool is like, which is an exceedingly difficult question to answer succinctly. Perhaps this will help you understand some of what I've learned so far.

Also, I got some complaints about there not being any pictures of me... which is difficult, considering I usually go places alone. Please accept this photo as penance for my lack of interest in having pictures of myself.

Enjoy.

The SuperLambBanana - get it here first.

2008-05-10T12:50:00.000-07:00

While looking for a place to live, I passed the SuperLambBanana without knowing what it was. I quickly find out while researching things to do in Liverpool and, realizing my folly, decided to return for a better look. After learning more about the background, I developed a new respect for the SuperLambBanana. It manages to be simultaneously aesthetically interesting and raise the issue of the possible effect of GMOs while not taking itself too seriously. I mean, we're much more likely to have an ape-le. Obviously.

I am super pumped that starting June 16th there will be about a hundred SuperLambBananas throughout Liverpool! I saw a teaser in a shop.

I feel a photo series coming on.

Depending on the street, she is definitely in the top three...

2008-05-10T12:34:00.000-07:00

pieces of street art on the street. I think you can tell a lot about a city by its street art - I love it here. Pardon the small-ness as I didn't want to risk standing in the middle of the road. I love the man - very minimalistic yet somehow expressive. Not to mention the text-based art which is found in various locations across Liverpool. They're not very optimistic or uplifting, but I think they're fascinating.

More to come, of course.

They're growing up so fast

2008-05-10T12:19:00.000-07:00

Things grow in Liverpool. Without being watered. And also sometimes without soil. It is amazing.

Also, they have this idea that OTHER THINGS growing in grass are acceptable and even welcome. No wonder I'm enjoying it here.

I saw the billboards (and signs) in Liverpool

2008-05-10T11:34:00.003-07:00

I've already posted a couple, but I love them! The oxfam ones are particularly great - if you can't read it, it says "be humankind." Amen.

I quite like some of the signs as well:

I especially like this sign, because this is precisely the kind of mom I imagine I'll be. Heck yes I'm on the swing. Next to my kid.

Amnesty, Burma, and the Metropolitan Cathedral in Liverpool

2008-05-10T11:10:00.000-07:00

Liverpool has an exceedingly large number of churches. As my housemate Sabrina put it, in France you would always visit large, old churches with stained glass, etc. If you did that here, you would never finish. They're everywhere. Some have been turned into youth or community centres, pubs, or just monuments. Apparently, this one was bombed out in the war and left as a memorial.

The metropolitan cathedral, however, makes choosing some to visit much easier by drawing an immense amount of attention to itself in height and design. A famous landmark in Liverpool, the symbolism is rife in its construction. Without waffling on about everything, I'll say that the main one is a crown of thorns and let you figure out the rest.

In the Amnesty Chapel, I saw these and thought of thelma:

Please read more about Burma and its current state of affairs here. Respond appropriately.
It was a beautiful cathedral. I think we could all learn from the reverence that they maintained there - it made me feel a way I neglect to feel at church some weeks.

Some things come in twos...

2008-05-07T11:24:00.000-07:00

I've noticed recently that my posts have been two-themed recently. Well, not today. I have one thing, and then one other thing.

One thing:

Check out the view outside my window at work! I actually haven't gotten around to figuring out what it says yet (crazy amount of self-control as I've been exceedingly busy but exceedingly curious) so we're at about the same place there.

Other one thing:

I was walking the other day to/from work and noticed this nursery school. This is why I do not want to have city kids. There is something supremely depressing about the idea of a child's playground being less than a meter wide and surrounded by tall metal fence with barbed wire on the top. It's unkind to little souls.

With those things that are one thing and one other thing, I am off.

Some firsts for Liverpool

2008-05-06T05:59:00.000-07:00

Today, I did two things for the first time.

1. Squinted in Liverpool - the sun is decidedly shining. In case you're unfamiliar with Liverpool, this is an extremely rare occasion. The sun has commitment issues that are worse than mine, and that's a feat.

2. Ate raw asparagus. We don't do that very often as a society, so I thought it might be like some other foods that you shouldn't eat raw. One google search later, I have my answer. Thank you, Michigan Asparagus Advisory Board. Did you know that asparagus belongs to the lily family? Apparently it's related to onions, leeks, and garlic.

Now you know. And knowing's half the battle! (GI JOE)

Liverpool, Capital of Culture 2008.

2008-05-05T10:33:00.000-07:00

Sorry to double-blog today as I know that there are masses of very busy people who read my blog faithfully and will feel obligated to read every word. However, this HAD to be done. I went on to the website for Liverpool 08 to register for updates about events and whatnot going on for this year's "Capital of Culture" festivities. Please, please, go here and click to select "Title." Only in Britain, ladies and gentlemen. Only in Britain.

Also only in Britain? Kleenex for men. True story.

So, double-blogging forgivable? I think so.

Checklist for a perfect room in Liverpool

2008-05-05T09:38:00.000-07:00

1. Nautical Mirror supplied.

2. Dresser, wireless internet, and decorations from home supplied (it is not requisite that they be supplied from the same source).

3. Book shelving supplied. Other uses for said shelving supplied (see above parenthetical comment).

4. Window, full-length mirror, Liverpool A-Z (please read this Livahpoo' eh to zed), unlocked mobile phone for use in the UK, and happiness supplied.

Thank you to everyone that made this room possible.

Liverpudlians.

2008-05-02T12:48:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm here in Liverpool and these last two days have certainly been quite the adventure. My goodness. One thing's for certain - Liverpool is full of exceedingly attractive men. Unfortunately for me, they all smoke, drink, and presumably have loads of sex. Hence they are useless to me except for making my surroundings a lot more pleasant than they would otherwise be.

I was sitting in the commercial city center (all pedestrian streets) today while I was eating my lunch and listening to a street performer who was quite good, actually. I had to laugh, however, when he asked a question to three fancy-looking business-type gentlemen and called them racists (quite loudly) when they didn't answer. He then muttered repentantly to himself that perhaps they didn't speak English. After that, he mumbled, "weeel, yahr sahkt enywee" which reminded me a wee bit of Donald Trump, Liverpool-style.

I love Liverpool but my throat is quite sore from all of the smoke here. They have a 100% ineffective public health intervention going on that tries to guilt people out of smoking "for the kids." I doubt it'll work.

I still haven't found a place to live, but the people I'm staying with are quite delightful. Both originally from Wales, we may (or may not) be distantly related. I have noted several idiosyncracies to English speech:

1. "and um" is an appropriate end to a sentence. Gets me every time!
2. "really" and "actually" also fall into this category.
3. Scousers sing more than they talk. At least that's what it sounds like to me.

That's all for today as I've been hogging this computer all evening. Until next time, practice your British accents and think of me.

Liverpool

2008-04-08T12:14:00.000-07:00

I'll be in Liverpool in the beginning of May, doing an internship. Blogs here will start then.