Requiem for an Old Blog

Over the years, I've written for lots of blogs, many of which have petered out without a whimper, but Chitown Chatter has been my longest running one so far. So, it pains me to announce the retirement of this blog, but my time in Chicago has run its course. (Besides, All Blogs go to Heaven.) I've been informally murmuring about starting a new blog for a couple months now, and I finally sat down over the weekend to work on it. Without further ado, please update your feeds and bookmarks, and check out Lady Parmalade for my adventures in Italy for the next year. If you would like to be added to the blogroll, just say the word. Feedback, comments and deconstructive criticism are also welcome.

http://ladyparmalade.wordpress.com/

Gluttons for Pun-ishment

Pikachu, I choose you! (Math puns are the first sine of madness.)

This is what happens when you start a pun war with two dogged wordmongers. Stop reading if you aren't interested in Terrible.

me: Phil keeps making puns about my shirt

R: you should stop shirting the issue

me: I hate you all.

R: don't try to shirt the blame for your own shortcomings
me: if I had collar id, I'd weed all of these jokes out
R: my off-the-cuff remarks are pretty clever
me: actually, I'm yawning because they're putting me to sleeve
R: that's just because your personality is a little too buttoned down
me: I guess it's just not tailored for this setting
R: I'm surprised you’re not pleating with me to stop
me: it takes more than idle threads to stop me
R: this conversation is just giving me a pocket full of wisdom
me: well, I just hope we won't be permanently embroidered in dispute
R: it's really tearing at the fabric of my being
me: well I hope you're addressing the issue, don't just hem and haw
R: i have faith that my long struggle with lead me to the land of silk and honey
me: I'm glad that this conversation isn't full of banal plaiditudes
R: it's going seamlessly, in fact
me: in fact, I think we're helping elevate the English language to striping new heights
R: we're going to be on the front lines of a velvet revolution
me: have you got a leader yet? if not, argyle take charge
R: my opposition is bound to fold
me: I'll draw up a laundry list of goals to achieve
R: your ambition is creases to amaze me
me: we'll iron out the details later
R: later? you're hanging me out to dry
me: it's like there was suddenly a sock in your face
R: despite any setbacks, my strength of twill shall overcome all
me: fear not, though one door may clothes, another has just opened
R: the sources of your optimism are growing like tweeds
me: yes, I find it apparelous to wallow in depression
R: you're overwhelmed by dis-cotten-tment
me: that's why I like to quilt while I'm ahead
R: I feel as though I've invested every fiber of my being in this
me: well after being called a spinster at lunch, it's good to feel productive
R: it's spindellabely true
me: admittedly, my level of productivity on work-related projects is rather unseamly
R: you have to make sure everything is documented before you weave
me: I'll work on getting my affairs in suitable condition
R: you have to pastel your replacement about everything you did
me: hopefully the atmosphere at the lunch table won't be too polo-rizing for her
R: I don't think her economist will boss her around like some overlord & taylor
me: yeah, Doug is cool, it's not as though she'll be losing hair and e-Macy-ated
R: if he puts her to work on currency markets, she'll have to be knowledgeable of Feiline's deBasement
me: I must say, this has been quite the epic Pun-ic War
R: a pun is its own reword
me: it is certainly a handy reference material
R: i didn't realize our supply of witticisms would be this elastic
me: I do think some of these remarks have been a stretch
R: most of yours were downright clothful
me: well I think I've learned my lace-son for the day - sparring with you will leave you in stitches
R: you don't have to needle me directly. I didn't think personal remarks were looming.
me: oh I'm not trying to make this an ad homonym attack
R: crochet it ain't so
me: I try my best not to operate in that fashion
R: as this exchange becomes more and more cryptic, I feel the pressure to come up with good puns is getting pintense
me: it's like this data that I'm sifting through in notepad - if only I understood what's in the textile
R: is that your way of asciing me for help with your project?
me: no that's fine, the time I have available for this project is practically delimited
R: as long as you're keeping tabs on what you're doing
me: I generally Excel at organization
R: now you're just giving me SAS
me: sometimes I like to opt for sophistication, other times I go for the low-TeX solution
R: I suppose it doesn't matter as long as the problem doesn't have you Lyx-ed
me: right, and I am quite font of open-source solutions
R: it's a bold point that you've underscored many times
me: one that is fully justified

At this point, it was past 5 and we'd been cracking puns for 2+ hours, so a truce was called. I need to take a nap now.

Pranks, Academia Edition

You know it's going to be a good day when someone says "I need to prank the shit out of someone."

There is a long history of inspired creativity around these parts, and no better time than April 1st to execute such ideas. What if, hypothetically, a series of emails were sent to an unsuspecting AE (let's call him Z) from an economist, such as Steve Levitt? In particular, it is known that Z despises Levitt and widely disparages his research. So, how would he respond to an attractive job offer from a prominent economist?

These emails were sent from a Hotmail account, rather than a spoofed U of C account. After all, the goal here was to be a jerk, not ruin lives.

Email #1

Z,

Congratulations on your recent admittance to the University of Chicago Economics Department. As you may know, I currently direct the Becker Center on Chicago Price Theory housed at the Booth School of Business. I have familiarized myself with your work on DSGE models, and I believe it is in line with the contributions of the Becker Center. To that end, I thought I would make you aware of an opportunity here at the Becker Center. Each year we take on several Graduate Assistants, these are people who we believe show promise. More than half of our Graduate Assistants have gone on to become Becker Center Research Fellows. This position would allow you to work closely with the Becker Center faculty such as myself to develop your ideas as you progress through your degree. I realize you have not yet finalized your graduate school decision yet, but I hope that this offer may help you to understand all of your options. Please e-mail me if you have any questions or to follow up about the position.

Steven Levitt

Let's review: this email included a rather unusual offer, and was sent on April 1st from a Hotmail account. I thought it would get spotted as fraudulent in about 30 seconds. Much to my shock, Z replied sincerely, saying that he was interested in meeting Levitt and looked forward to seeing him at the Chicago open house tomorrow. What now? Clearly, this is a cue to up the ante and become progressively more outrageous.

Email #2

Z,

Outstanding. While you're here I'd like to make sure I introduce you to Gary. Unfortunately he's been a bit moody recently but the color purple seems to have a soothing effect on him (the doctors have called it "neurochromopathy") so if you can make sure to include it in your ensemble it would be for the best. I look forward to our meeting and discussing some of my research with you. Please e-mail me if you have any further questions.

Steve

That's bizarre enough that warning flags should triggered, right? Or, it could result in Z borrowing a purple sweater...

Time to bring out the over-the-top guns.

Email #3

Z,

Do you mind swinging by Treasure Island on your way over and bringing some Greek style plain yogurt for Gary and I? I really love the luxurious silky texture of the yogurt in my mouth. When I eat it while listening to a bit of Chopin it, it really helps me focus on the current problem. Perhaps you can try it with us.

Steve

At this point, it was time to call it quits before serious damage was done. Z took the news well, and for the record, claims to have known it was a joke. Also, he said that he did not notice the Hotmail address, since Gmail automatically hides headers unless you click "details."

Lessons learned:

1) The most credible pranks are ones that give the prankee something they desire.

2) Never trust email sent from Hotmail.

Changing of the Guard

At a meeting of Associate Economists last fall, our department head casually asked how many of us were applying to grad school or otherwise planned on leaving in the next year or so. Given the competitive nature of grad applications, I am not entirely surprised that there was complete and total silence; no one responded and we all sort of shifted uncomfortably in our chairs. Since the probability of getting rejected from all the grad programs you apply to is quite nonzero, we have pretty strong incentives to ensure that we are not replaced by a new hire. Though, to be fair, many of us (myself included) were uncertain at that point about where we would be in a year.

Flash forward to the end of March, and grad school results are in. A quick survey reveals that 9 out of the 20 AEs currently employed will be gone by next August, a whopping 45% turnover. (I did not include the casework department in these figures.) Of the 11 remaining AEs, at least two are considering pursuit of unrelated fields (not econ/math/business). Perhaps my unorthodox exit strategy is rubbing off on others.

About a year ago, I was pondering the transient nature of my social circle and felt a little left behind. Today, I can say with confidence that I have not stagnated and I am going places. About 7,700 km away, in fact. And despite the large exodus of AEs this summer, life at the Fed will still go on and on and on and on...

Anyway, congrats to everyone who was accepted to grad school this year. Anecdotally, it seems like this year was as tough or even tougher than last year. (I heard of someone who won his school's undergrad thesis award and had two incredibly well-known recommenders who hasn't gotten in anywhere.) So, it is no small feat that many AEs have landed spots in respected econ PhD programs.

Internetless, or Why I'm Never Becoming a Hermit

(Oh yeah, I think most of you already know this, but due to a number of hilarious bureaucratic snafus, I am actually moving to Italy in May, with a flight out of JFK on 5/23. Anyway, that is outside of the scope of this post.)

Day 1:

9 am. I call AT&T tech support to angrily complain about my lack of internet. They tell me that according to the diagnostics, the modem has died and I'll have to replace it. Zetsuboushita! In an instant, I realize I have lost all Truth and Knowledge in the world. And what about the state of my Google Reader? Panic. I tweet my distress through the only means possible: text message. Since I haven't set up notifications to my phone, if there are responses, I won't be able to read them.

11 am. After going for a run, I return home to discover...I have no messages. No email messages, no im messages, no tweets, no unread posts in Reader. I feel sad and lonely. With a vague sense of liberation. No eff that, I'm going to work on a weekend.

3 pm. Inbox and RSS feeds have been cleaned, Facebook messages have been responded to, must-see YouTube clips have been watched. I calculate the cost of a new modem ($80) versus the amount of time I have remaining in Chicago (~7 weeks) . I scan Craig's list for used modems, and email a couple, asking them to please call me rather than email. The Cornell-Wisconsin game is happening, but I need to get going. I ask a friend to text me the results. Turns out, we won 87-69. I celebrate without reading post-game analysis on ESPN and don't check to see if Cornell is trending on Twitter.

12 am. Have returned from a long dinner party. My 5 glasses of wine/martinis help me buzz along home, where I remember, once again, that I have no internet. Sans distractions, I topple into bed immediately.

Day 2:

7 am. I awake to the sound of NPR and actually listen to it, rather than shutting it off. I wait to hear the weather forecast. In the meantime, did you know there's a Mauwi tribe that celebrates divorce? (I wonder if "Mauwi" is the correct spelling, but don't have a way to look it up.) They have a saying, "The more time you spend in divorce, the more beautiful you are." Apparently, when you divorce, they throw you a divorce party even larger than your wedding party. And now, the weather: pleasant, sunny skies, high near 53. Oh, and the health care bill has passed! I itch to check HuffPo.

8 am. Breakfast is eaten, clothing has changed. Normally, this is where I'd start reading the morning's news and blog posts, but Chrome haunts me with repeated messages of "This webpage is not available." Sadness. I check to see if there's unsecured wifi anywhere nearby. Alas, this building is full of stingy, technologically savvy misers. I play some music, an activity that doesn't require an internet connection. I realize that the tracks are not being scrobbled by Last.fm. Ack, this will totally skew my listening data. If "Eating Me Alive" by Miracles of Modern Science gets played and don't get added to my history, does anyone actually hear it? After pondering the absurdity of this question, I turn off my computer for the first time in years, since there's no instant messenger client it needs to be running.

9 am. At work. Can't remember the last time I made it to work this early. GReader at 22 unread now.

5 pm. Spot an ad for an AT&T DSL modem on Craig's list. Call to ask where in "northwest Chicago" they are located. Harlem? Are you kidding me?? But wait, the other dude offers to drive to the loop Right Now and drop off the modem! I agree without hesitation. Then I check my pockets for cash. I have exactly $27 on me, and the ad was for $30. I have no ATM card on me. Conundrum. Quick, who can I shake down for three measley dollars? I dash over to the cubicle next door and beg Rob for money. He agrees readily, with the caveat that I will owe him 20% interest. Oh those econ types, always hilarious.

5:45 pm My Craig's List dude calls me and says that he is a tad lost. I try to give him directions, but it soon becomes apparent that he is completely unfamiliar with the loop. (He claims to be driving on Congress and crossing Van Buren...those streets are parallel.) After another 5-10 min of circling, I finally flag him down, where we do a quick and dirty exchange on the street corner. The modem is MINE.

11 pm. Return home after attending a TV premiere party. Gleefully reach for the "new" DSL modem and plug it in. Lights on, hit F5 aaaand...still nothing. Panic that I've paid $30 for another useless pos modem. I call AT&T support once again, and the woman guides me through some basic questions. I humor her by turning my modem on and off again, and use Internet Explorer for the first time in years. We finally sign on successfully and pages are loading without a hitch. I start breathing normally and thank her as I hang up. Pidgin is running, TweetDeck loads 95 new tweets, virus definitions are updated, and life is good.

Andrò in Italia!

I think most people reading this know already, but just to put it in writing, I am moving out of Chicago. To Italy. In one month. Yeah.

That is my lame excuse for this being the first post of the year on this blog. The last month has been filled with the excitement of bureaucratic arm-wrestling, selling off all my possessions, and speed-learning Italian. As a side note, there is nothing like the threat of moving to a foreign country to motivate you to learn a language. If only I could have convinced myself that I was relocating to Beijing as a kid.

What on earth am I doing in Italy? I will be enrolled at the University of Gastronomic Sciences as a master's student in their Food Culture and Communication program. The campus is located in Colorno, Italy, a little outside of Parma, which is the namesake for Parmesan cheese and Parma prosciutto. The program lasts for one year, and the language of instruction is English. (Phew!) Course titles include "Medieval Food History," "Sociology of Food Consumption," and "Food Economics."

The other popular question is what I expect to do after my year is over. Obviously there are no Monster listings for gastronomers, but alumni have gone on to work for wine importers, marketers, agricultural NGOs, etc. I'd like to go into food writing, but we'll see where the darts land. The program also ends with an 8-week internship, so that might help open some doors. At the least, it will be a year-long adventure in Italy, with a few trips to neighboring countries (Belgium, France, Spain, Greece).

The economists, suffice it to say, are supportive but a bit confused. The Fed is meant to be a fertile training ground for future econ phds, so my departure for something completely removed from econ grad school has been met with a bit of surprise. Overheard in the kitchen last week: "Did you hear? She's going to gastronomy school...yeah, I don't know. With a G."

Happily, my economists have also been nothing but supportive. I've gotten tons of unsolicited advice, well-wishes and (most importantly) translation help. The finance team held a happy hour last week, and as I left, I felt truly lucky to have worked with such smart, witty, rationally choosy people. It's been a great run at the Fed, and now that the financial crisis is over (at least according to credit spreads), I am moving on new projects.

My flight out of JFK leaves on March 7th, and classes start on March 10th. I just told HR that my last day at work would be Feb 26th. I have been continuously employed since high school, and the thought of not having an income scares the hell out of me. In case you are wondering, I am funding this entirely on my own. With Chester in college and the economy in its current shape, money is tight at home. So, while I won't be sleeping in the streets, I am definitely passing on a trip to El Bulli (not that I'd be able to get a reservation).

Seeing as Chitown Chatter suggests that Chicago will be topical, I've decided to start a new blog for my new adventures in Europe. Further information will be posted after I figure out some design details.

Notes on Las Vegas

This is a young city, where buildings are considered aged at 20 years (compare that to my house in MA which was built in 1893). And recession be damned, this is a growing city, with last week's unveiling of City Center and an additional 4,000 new hotel rooms. The Strip is slated to double in size in the next couple decades, stretching south to reach the M resort.

Water conservation is a major issue, and houses are allotted a certain amount of water usage annually. Or you can drill private wells. The tap water here does not taste very good; Lake Michigan is better by far, and the Finger Lakes top that. If you destroy your lawn by covering it with gravel or sand, you can get compensation from the government by sending in photographic evidence. Housing and land are cheap and plentiful, which makes the city surprisingly car friendly and conversely, pedestrian unfriendly. Parking on the strip is generally free at casino lots, and free with validation downtown. I can't think of another urban center that boasts free parking. There is no subway system (other than the Strip lightrail), but the bus system seems fairly extensive. Walking down the Strip is a slow process due to crowded sidewalks and the overhead crosswalk system. Each time you cross a street, you have to climb up and down a flight of stairs (or take the escalator). The streets are laid out on an imperfect grid system similar to Chicago's, with 8 blocks to a mile, and the Strip dividing addresses east and west. Avoid driving on the Strip whenever possible; it can take over an hour to traverse the four miles. However you can travel 60 or 70 blocks in just 10-15 minutes if you head away from the Strip.

There is a vibrant "Chinatown" just a couple miles west of the Strip, a series of shopping plazas and storefronts along Spring Mountain Road. I found it quite diverse compared to other asian enclaves, which are generally dominated by one ethnicity. In this two mile stretch though, there are strong Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese and Filipino offerings. Prices are low, possibly due to the proximity to CA. For a dollar, you can pick up 12 heads of garlic, a pound of tilapia or 3 pounds of limes. Restaurants are abundant and many are cash only. The pho I had here was just okay, but the duck feet and reindeer were excellent.

Las Vegas must be the only city in the world which characterizes itself by imitating other cities. In the four miles of the Strip, you will pass a mock Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, Venetian gondolas, an Egyptian pyramid, Roman columns and a medieval castle. And in case that's not enough to grab your attention, you can watch an exploding volcano outside of the Mirage (colored water and lights set to music) and scantily clad bucaneers at the Treasure Island pirate show. I was warned that this was NOT family friendly, but opted to drag the crew there anyway for maximum hilarity. Unfortunately, it is currently closed for the winter.

I didn't take any of the prostie cards that they pass out on the Strip (figured they might be infectious), but Steven and Stanley grabbed them by the dozen (for Irony, I imagine). Having collected about fifty or so, they then decided to try standing on a corner and passing them out. This was rather unsuccessful. Then Stanley tried to drop one into a homeless guy's hat, and the homeless guy got mad and started yelling after him, "Boy! Leave me alone!"