Yup.

Yup. We are.

Peace.

Me.

Today’s Activity: Documenting Graffiti

Today was Sunday. A day that is difficult to fill with many interesting activities as most things are closed. However, after starting this blog, I decided I should go out and photograph the graffiti in the park across from my building. There is a very long wall that is entirely covered in graffiti. I grabbed my camera and headed to the gym. As I was going there, I started to notice all kinds of things that I had never noticed before. I took some pictures.

Then, when I walked back, I decided to take a different route from my usual one. As I went deeper into one neighborhood, I began to notice a lot of worn graffiti with swastikas and things about fascism. On top of the graffiti were lines through it, anti-fascist terms. However, there were still some swastikas that weren’t worn. As I went away from the area, the swastikas went away. I began to notice the amount of words and symbols dealing with fascism there were all around the city.

After this, I headed to the park. There was more graffiti than I had ever realized. I had walked past it before when I was returning from my walk but had never really taken the time to look at it. I took about 50 pictures of it- and very few of them were repeat pictures. I began to notice the same tags (meaning, the alias of the graffiti artist). Some of them I had noticed in other areas, some I hadn’t. Some of the work was actually quite impressive.

I began to wonder who these graffiti artists were. When had they done this? One piece said something along the lines of “I beat 2007″. There was also a lot of English. I had heard people partying in the park last night, so I figured when I headed over there this morning that there might be some new graffiti. I’m not sure if it was new or not, but it was interesting.

Later in the evening, as the sun was going down, I was full from lunch and decided to take another walk. I headed out with my camera and decided to wander around the area with my camera and look for more graffiti. The more I really looked at the names, the clearer it became as to which artists were from the area and which ones were the best. I wasn’t surprised that this park had so much graffiti because there is a shop right across from my building that sells graffiti cans. They must make a mint off of these kids/young adults.

I wonder if these kids/young adults live with their families or on their own? Are they from Italy? It would be a bit difficult to live with your family while accumulating cans. On the other hand, maybe they just go buy it on the day of. I don’t know. I really wanted to find this “Donut” character and find out about him. Is he an artist? Because he really should be.

I have more than 130 pictures of graffiti so far. I’m pretty sure I have more on my hard drive at home, too.

Here are some of my favorites from today:

If the picture above isn’t loading for you, double-click it. It will open another window– it’s quite impressive and worth taking the time to look at.

You can see the rest if you go to the vertical box and click “More Photos”.

Peace!

Me.

I understand. At a deeper level than ever before.

I’ve always read that the thing men hate most is when women nag. Although it’s always seemed like something that would annoy everyone, man or woman, I am coming to understand this intense dislike of nagging. I have been working with only guys for almost two years. I have come to understand the male mind quite a bit. However, tonight my understanding reached a new level.

There are some girls on my floor who try to be helpful and it’s very nice. They’re nice and when I don’t understand something they try to explain. However, as of recent, it’s gone from helpful to painfully annoying. If I forget to hang the towel back up, instead of leaving it on the counter RIGHT UNDER THE HOOK, they find me in the common room (only three feet away) and remind me about it. I was asked about some dishes that weren’t even mine. Anything and everything can and is pointed out. I’m not a slob, I wash my own dishes and I do the best I can to be tidy. I don’t make big dinners and I don’t leave my coffee stuff out. Sometimes I forget to put away, say, the olive oil bottle when I’ve cleaned up.

They were the first to come back tonight. I’d been dreading their return. The last time I saw them, they reminded me about things that weren’t my fault. I quietly said, “Uh. … altre persone…” “Oh, scusi.” “no, bene.” She picked up the bottle from the pasta sauce that I couldn’t throw out at the time because someone else was standing in front of the trash can. So yes, that was the only thing that was mine. Scusi. I’ll clean everything.

Two days before that, one of them took me aside in the kitchen. Someone had once told me taht this cupboard with olive oil and vinegar was community. Community, I understood, meant that everyone can use it. That’s what it always meant in my apartment at home. So I’d been using this oil and vinegar and I didn’t realize that what they meant by “community” was that everyone can put their olive oil and vinegar. I profusely apologized and went out and bought mine the next day. Suddenly, there was a notice in the cupboard saying that this was NOT community. Was it really necessary to put up a notice? Could I have been one of others? I’m not sure. It’s not like I understand the notice, anyways.

They’re back. I’ve cleaned everything possible over the weekend. Things that weren’t mine. Everything was ready. They came back and had dinner with some guy– I think the boyfriend of one of them. I didn’t eat until about 20 minutes later. I didn’t want to sit right with them, but I was too afraid to sit at my computer with my food at the other table. I ate at the table a bit further down and didn’t have a cloth over the first rubber cloth. The entire time I was eating, I was debating whether to put down a second cloth. I mean, I was only going to be there for another five minutes and I was eating tomatoes and mozarella cheese….

I didn’t know if one of them would want the internet connection or not. After about five minutes of internal debate I decided that I needed to escape downstairs to the computer lab and hook up there. It no longer mattered if they wanted it or not, I didn’t want to be possibly responsible for ANYTHING that might be a problem.

That’s when it hit me. This is why men have basements and garages. To be left alone. To not have anyone nag them.

On top of that, I was watching diggnation the other day. One of the two hosts has repeated this one little story and the more I think about it, the more true it is.

“I sat my girlfriend down one day. I told her that there will be days she leaves and I will be sitting at the computer in my pajamas. She will come back and I will still be at the computer in my pajamas. And that’s just how it is.”

I now understand.

I can’t imagine being married to someone who hovers and nags me. Oh God.

I understand. I understand!

Oh god.

The song from the First Wives Club suddenly has taken on a new and significant meaning.

“You don’t own me!”

…and now I will go back to doing as I please in the quiet that is the computer lab.

Lonely Planet Author Admits to Plagiarizing and Dealing Drugs!

“(CNN) — A Lonely Planet author says he plagiarized or made up portions of the popular travel guidebooks and dealt drugs to supplement poor pay, an Australian newspaper reported Sunday.

Lonely Planet publishes more than 500 titles and employs 300 authors, according to its Web site.

Thomas Kohnstamm, who has written a book on his misadventures, also said he didn’t travel to Colombia to write the guidebook on the country because “they didn’t pay me enough,” The Daily Telegraph reported.

“I wrote the book in San Francisco [California],” he is quoted as saying in the Telegraph. “I got the information from a chick I was dating — an intern in the Colombian Consulate.”

The 32-year-old Seattle, Washington, native also claims he accepted free travel, which is a violation of the company’s policy.

Kohnstamm has worked on more than a dozen books for Lonely Planet, including its titles on Brazil, Colombia, the Caribbean, Venezuela, Chile and South America.

An e-mail from Lonely Planet said Kohnstamm’s book were being reviewed, the newspaper reported.”

Read the Rest Here.

I’ll bet you the Rick Steves folks are chuckling right now…

You Don’t Own Me!

This is one of my favorite movie songs.

I made my first Pizza!

The girls are all gone this weekend to see their families. This worked out well as I’d been wanting to try my hand at making a pizza. However, there are often people in the kitchen and if things went wrong with the pizza, well I would look, well, kinda stupid. This was the perfect opportunity to try this out. It actually came out really well. I documented it all with photographs.

Step 1: The Ingredients

Along with the, errr, cooking aids…Gotta have something to munch on while you wait…

I soon realized I didn’t understand the directions. Off to my room I went to find my dictionary.

What?! Some of these words aren’t in this dictionary. Off to the common room I go to find the very, very large dictionary.

Okay, we’re ready to rock n roll.

I unrolled the dough and left it on the wax sheet. I put it on a cooking sheet. Then I put olive oil on the edges. The directions didn’t say to do so, but who needs directions anyways!?

Next up, the salsa.

I’m becoming a bonnified Martha Stewart already! Minus the insider trading, obviously.

Then I put it in the oven. I was pretty sure that this what the directions wanted me to do– put it in the oven senza the mozerella cheese. Then I waited for a vague amount of time.

…took it back out and inspected my genius masterpiece. Moving along very nicely, I see.

Next came the real grunt work. I cut up the mozzarella cheese.

I bet you weren’t expecting this one! I’m quite clever, you know…

Not too shabby, not too shabby at all. Next up, oven time. Time to face the Forno. Haha! I’m so witty.

Let the time of reckoning begin.

My Very First Pizza: Part 2

That’s more like it!

Mmmm…piizzzaaa (insert Homer Simpson voice here).

Ciao!

Me.

My Life as a Playlist

I once read a blog post written by a friend/acquaintance of mine. He wrote that he creates a musical collage of songs he’s listening to each month. Basically, an audio journal. I thought it was such a great idea that I started to do it, too. This also helps me to organize that songs that I constantly hit the back button for. They’re a little out of chronological order. They’re usually a month behind. Currently the February/March playlist has actually been created between March and April. I can remember when I added almost every song. I remember why and what was going on and how I felt. I hate being interrupted when I’m in the middle of creating my monthly mix. I once turned down being asked to brunch by someone I liked (read: crush) because I was in the midst of creating my monthly music mix. He probably either thought I was: crazy, a jerk, weird, or lying. He may have been right about 2 of the 4.

I thought about creating the playlist and putting it on here, but I’m not sure yet. It’s kind of personal and yet, it’s not that personal…I mean, they are all public songs and most of them are decent. Although, there is more pop music than I would like to normally admit to. This month there is a lot of classical music, which just makes me feel kinda boring. I mean, saying something like, “Wow! Mendelson’s Octet in E Flat Major, Opus 20! SOoo good!” might seem a bit odd. Because um. Does anybody say that?

Well, except for this one time on the Burgh Report when a conversation began about Luke commenting that he had never seen the Pittsburgh Symphony perform until he went to Amsterdam (“un po” embarrassing for the city and Luke but c’est la vie). Anyways, people began to talk about various times they were at the symphony and their favorite pieces, etc.

Actually, Mendelson’s Octet in E Flat Major, Opus 20 really is good. I was always brought up around music- my parents listen to classical and jazz, I play piano and drums, my brother used to play trumpet, and I have been a concert afficionado (sp?) since about the age of 15. Manny Theimer is one of my favorite Pittsburgh characters. I met my anarchist ex-bf at Brave New World- something that still makes me laugh. Oh, Brave New World… Speaking of which, here is a picture from their old shop. The group playing was rather strange and I never quite “got it”. They were japanese pop-punk girls who wore super-hero costumes.

I believe that one of them then married one of the usuals who went to see them play. I know this because there is a blog I’m fond of named 7 Inch Slam. The writer of this blog is a very good writer, knows his stuff about obscure punk music, and has great pictures of food that they either cook or eat at restaurants. He has been drunk most times I’ve met him. However, what would the obscure/elitist punk scene be without bottles in brown paper bags and the odd smell coming from behind the cash register where the owner put his sandwich two hours ago– right before he got into a conversation about the set at a smoky bar the night before. It just wouldn’t be quite the same at all.

I’ve also come to decide that math and music are two of a very small group of universal languages. I like the latter more than the former. I’ve actually missed not having the option of playing a piano while I’ve been here. At Duquesne, if I feel inclined and have some free time, I can go to the Music School and play piano in a solo room and be left alone. No one comments on my playing (a pet peeve of mine) or corrects me or interrupts. I don’t know what I would do without music. Here is some youtubage of the Octet. Just in case you now feel the need to listen to it.

Now I’ll ask you: what songs would describe the month of March for you?

Pace.

Me.

Here I come, Menver!

My business partner sent this link to me or maybe I saw it on Chris Briem’s blog, I can’t remember. Either way, it turns out that Denver is referred to by some of its residents as “Menver”, because it has so many men. I really need to hop on a plane to Denver this summer.

Pace.

Me.

BlogherShip

I have been given a Bloghership for this summer’s Blogher Conference. The conference is in San Francisco, July 18-21st. I have to record audio in exchange for the price discount. I have never focused just on audio recording, so I am going to be teaching myself how to do this as well as buying some new equipment. I think the equipment should come to about 100-150.00. This probably negates the idea of a scholarship. However, having concrete equipment like this is always a useful thing. Trust you me.

I’m hoping that the Blogher conference goes well. The people I was supposed to go with are now unable to go, so I will be representing Pgh on my own. Perhaps I should take a Terrible Towel with me? Or not.

I had been supposed to do a panel with two other people, one of whom cannot go. I haven’t heard back from the other. Perhaps I will meet some other people there who want to put together an informal panel.

I wish technology conferences weren’t all on the West Coast and expensive. I really need to find a big name sponsor…as well as buy a Mini Cooper…both of which won’t be happening this year.

That’s about it.

Pace.

Me.