Homecoming 2008

It’s been a whole two months since I was last in Ithaca, so clearly that meant I needed to make a trip back for homecoming. Besides, the last one was a time and a half, and how could I pass up hanging out with my bff Raivo this weekend?? Some random thoughts and happenings:

1) To this day, I have yet to find a place with better burritos than Statler Terrace, and since they only open on weekdays during lunch, it's pretty darn inaccessible for me. So, as soon as I was back on campus, I made a mad dash for Terrace and slid into the wrap line just 5 minutes before they were closing. Even better, they had just enough pulled pork left for one last burrito! I sat down with my wrap in one hand and a New York Times in the other, relaxing in the confines of a college campus. It was pretty much a picturesque scene from SWPL. Promptly afterwards, I was asked if I was interested in attending church or bible study. Ah, some things never change.

2) Oktoberfest celebrations were happening in Trillium on Friday afternoon, sponsored by the European Club and Grad Students Association. They were passing out free knockwurst, sauerkraut and chips, blasting German music, and selling $1-2 Oktoberfest beers. Naturally, the scene was quite raucous, and I had to pinch myself a couple times when I realized people were getting smashed on campus in the middle of the day. Why didn't I crash more grad events back in the day?

3) As for the homecoming game itself, I was steeling myself for disappointment from the start. Not to be pessimistic, but Yale was the team that routed us 51-12 last year after all. Shockingly, we won the game, albeit not by much (17-14). What can I say, I guess crazier things have happened, eh?

4) I am always hesitant to try new restaurants in Ithaca because there are so many old favorites and so little time. But since I was in town in July, and satiated my Maxie’s craving then, I figured I could be adventurous for once. So, Saturday night, I found myself at the Ithaca Ale House…and I give it two thumbs up! The menu at its core is bar food, but includes enough special touches that it's semi-classy and exciting. I convinced Viki and Oliver to order the eggplant fries as an appetizer and they were delicious (didn't taste like eggplant at all), and came with a cool curry-based sauce. We also figured with 6 of us, it wouldn't hurt to order another appetizer, so Amanda suggested the guacamole & brie. I was expecting a huge bowl of dip with chips or bread around it, but instead we were served a platter of bread, with guacamole, brie and red pepper spread on top of each piece. For dinner, I ordered the Bastard burger (pepper crust, Bastard Ale mustard, onion rings)...and so did Oliver and Alec. They also had some interesting stuff on the dessert menu (fried Oreos!), but we were way too full.

5) Speaking of fullness, I never made it to Hot Truck. We debated for about 10 minutes, but Viki decided she was too full/it was raining too hard/the hill was too much to handle at 1 am, so we didn't go. This is a bit of a shame because I'm most likely going to visit Ithaca during summers in the future, when Hot Truck is closed, so I'm pretty much never getting a PMP again. :(

6) On the other hand, I did make it to Dairy Bar, because after getting breakfast at CTB (San Diego Bagel on California bagel, the kind with granola on it), we had some time to kill before the tailgate. So, Viki, Oliver and I went to get ice cream at 11 am. (<--fat kids!) I was a bit disappointed at the lack of seasonal flavors (no Clocktower Pumpkin, no Apple Pie) but the Coconutty Spring Thaw and Bavarian Raspberry Fudge were really good. Plus, I discovered that you could ask for two flavors on a "small" cone. What a revelation!

7) I'm still not over the fact that Pataflafla drinks now; there's definitely some cognitive dissonance going on in my mind. And speaking of drinking, since the '08ers have graduated, the drumline has definitey gotten drunker/less dorky. I was hanging out with Shannon, my new favorite freshman bells player, who apparently got so drunk last weekend that they invoked medical amnesty on him. Meanwhile, Matt & Co were talking about skipping the band party to play Dungeons & Dragons instead. Um, yeah.

8) There's another chimesmaster-bandie! I met her at the band party, and we talked about all the chimesmaster-bandies of years past (ARE '03, GVJ '99, a couple guys from the '50s). Unfortunately, she's missing the chimesmaster road trip to NYC for the band trip to Montreal. I am seriously considering skipping homecoming next fall to attend Chimes Advisory Council instead. They're always scheduled two weeks apart, so I can't really afford to do both. I did make it to the clocktower to get some concerts in (one with RCF and the other with WAK). Secretly, I am relieved that the concerts I crashed were played by chimesmasters that I know, but I guess in another year or two, they'll all be fresh faces to me. Sigh.

9) Ithaca Apple Festival was also a good time despite the pouring rain. You could find all manner of apples and apple products, from apple butter to apple fry bread, and there were plenty of non-apple items as well. After hearing Megan rave about her Cuban sandwich on Friday, I was tempted to get one too, but then decided I should hold out for one in Pilsen. I did get apple cider doughnuts and a piece of smoked apple pie with sharp NY cheddar, pretty much the craziest thing I could find. Tomas et al were appalled at the idea of cheese on apple pie, but seriously, is the idea of fruit and cheese that crazy? Or the combination of sweet and salty?? I couldn't convince them that apple and cheddar is not that weird. There was also a booth with jams, jellies and fruit butters, similar to the one at the Ithaca Farmer's Market, but with 16 or so flavors. Viki and I both bought a container of cranberry-horseradish jam, which was intriguing because it had the taste and smell of horseradish, but NOT the spicy sting, which apparently goes away during cooking. So, it seems that all the horseradish products I've previously eaten have been cold-processed.

10) We made a trip to Wegman's because Viki wanted to buy bread, and of course, who doesn't want to shop in the best grocery store EVER? Over the last year, I've gradually used up all my Wegman's brand products, and now only have a bit of Wegman's vanilla extract and baking powder left. So, I decided I needed to buy a non-liquid, non-perishable Wegman's item, and settled on a container of pepper. I can't tell you how exciting it is to look in my cupboard and see Wegman's, to remind me of the good ol' days.

11) Returning to Chicago, I wasn't nearly as depressed as I was compared to last year. In some sense, I've gotten used to the idea that there are people I will not see more than once or twice a year, and perhaps the relationship will fade a bit, but when we are together, those bonds are rekindled instantaneously, like sea monkeys in water. Moreover, I've put down roots here, and being in Ithaca would be a step backwards. And who knows, maybe someday we'll find ourselves in the same place again (cough, MCLU 2009?).

And so concludes my last trip to Ithaca for probably a very long time. So long, and thanks for all the fish. :)

About Last Night

Let me begin with a declaration: I had no intentions of getting drunk last night. Really. It was pouring rain and I had my bike with me, so I knew I needed to be decently sober by the end of the night to make it home. And then the best of intentions invariably go awry.

Britton wanted to go dancing, so the plan was to pregame at Erik's apartment, play some Wii, and then head out to Beaumont around 11 or midnight. The choice of location was notable, because it had been almost exactly a year since the last time we tried to go to Beaumont. That night ended with me and Britton pitching Haley head-first into a cab, an act that forever cemented our friendship and provided us with ample fodder for future teasing.

This time around, the goal was to actually make it inside Beaumont. That part was successfully accomplished. Alas, I cannot remember anything else that happened.

I realize this is a popular occurrence in some circles in college, but I have never had the pleasure of waking up on a bathroom floor. Until this morning. I rolled over, and my arm banged against a cold, porcelain surface, otherwise known as a toilet. Much to my dismay, I arose with the realization that I had passed out on Erik's bathroom floor. Luckily, there is a nice, cushiony rug in there, so it was fairly comfortable. It was 7:45 am, and I felt pretty chipper, with nary a trace of a hangover.

Next, I started checking my phone. No received or sent calls, so it looked like I hadn't made any egregious drunk dials. So far, so good. Then, I checked my text message inbox and the warning flags began popping up. From Chris: "I'm sorry you thought I was being weird..." Erm, what on earth happened last night? From Rob, the message was "Or not. Not the least bit offended or passive aggressive. (clearly kidding)" This was obviously in response to something...oy veh, if only I knew what. Checking my outbox, it appeared that I had texted Rob with directions: "We are at Beaumont right now at Halsted and Armitage. Come by for 100 percent finance AE presence?" Can I at least pat myself on the back for sending a perfectly spelled and grammatically correct text message while blacked out? By the way, the trip home was miserable because it was pouring rain and I didn't have an umbrella or a jacket of any sort. Yes, I was That Girl.

After my first black out, I swore I'd never drink to that point of intoxication again, but I guess I need to be more careful. From what I can recall, I only had 3 drinks last night (2 glasses of wine and a cranberry & vodka), so I'm not sure what went wrong. We weren't playing any drinking games either (to the best of my knowledge), so I don't think I was drinking particularly quickly.

There is a bit of a bruise forming on my arm. Erik mentioned something about me falling off the dance floor, so maybe that's the cause. What can I say? Sometimes, really great dance moves require taking some risks.

EDIT: Chris has informed me that he was the one who sent out the text message with directions. Damn, and I was so proud of myself too.

Signs that you are no longer a recent college grad

• Your friends have all abandoned AIM for Gchat.
• Going to bed at 10 pm no longer seems crazy early.
• Quarter cards : People handing out flyers on sidewalks :: A capella groups : rappers on trains
• When a card gets passed around for signing, it's not for a birthday, but for the birth of a baby.
• You pay for housing when you go back to college for visits.
• When you fall asleep in the library, a security guard taps you on the shoulder and asks if you're okay.
• Instead of comparing GPAs, you compete with your friends over who has a better credit score.

On Proposals

In between the creme brulee stout and (no root) beer floats last night, the ideal marriage proposal popped up for discussion. This is not a very real possibility for me at this point, but Viki should perhaps be dropping more vigorous hints if she wants to pull off her vision. Without further ado, here's a sampling of what modern women are hoping for (we're not insane, I swear).

Ricky
Situation: Under the Northern Lights
Pros: Beautiful location, cheap excluding travel costs, quiet location outdoors ensures that he will not make a fool of himself in front of crowds
Cons: Limited time frame and location options, requires the fickle cooperation of Mother Nature

Viki
Situation: She is attending a Broadway show or a concert, and at intermission, they have a special announcement and Matt jumps on stage. Cue romantic words and then bursting into song. To the cheers and applause of the audience, Viki accepts.
Pros: The level of coordination and planning would truly signal commitment, and there's nothing like being the star of your own show on Broadway.
Cons: The level of coordination and planning makes this almost impossible to pull off. Also, it'd be asking a lot for Matt to belt out a song...maybe we could settle for having someone else come out and sing, or better yet, having someone else sing while Matt lipsyncs, Chinese Olympics-style.

Me
Situation: He gets down on one knee and says, "There is a set R equipped with 2 binary operations called addition and multiplication such that (R, +) is abelian group with identity element 0, and..."
Pros: This brings proposals to an unfathomable level of dorkiness.
Cons: None.

Addendum (Rhea wants in on this too):

Rhea
Situation: On a trip to Cornell, mystery Cornell engineer takes her to Olin library, to the 4th floor-- romance studies. He gets down on one knee and says "in spite of all my time spent in Duffield, I too have always wanted to spend hours and hours in the library--Olin, Mann, or Uris. I proclaim my love for your here for that reason. Not to mention...I think you wouldn't accept if I did it anywhere else. Oh and I'll be sure to teach you E & M 101 tonight". He pops open a bottle of champagne, quietly of course. Rhea calls Crystal to announce that she's eloping and that they need to arrange something with Sage Hall so that she and mystery eng. can have their chimes concert complete with Nessun Dorma, the Alma Mater duet, and Taras to help.

Cantate

It's been over a year since I've performed with any sort of musical ensemble, and while singing in the shower is fun, it's not quite as rewarding as performing on stage. So, on a whim, I started researching choral groups in Chicago and emailed Cantate, a mixed voice chamber choir with repertoire that looked challenging but not too serious. Two months later, they invited me to come for an audition, and my palms began to sweat. Have I mentioned that the bulk of my vocal training comes from only one semester of Cornell chorale?

The director, Ben Rivera, greeted me at the door, and after shushing the dogs, we got right to business. He handed me a page with text in German, Latin, Spanish, French, and Italian. "Read the text, and if you don't know, make something up," he instructed. Hmm, I took a deep breath and began butchering the paragraphs in front of me. The German was by far the worst, though my Italian wasn't terrific either. Having studied French in college, that paragraph was the cleanest. After I stumbled my way to the end of the page, Ben corrected some of my more egregious errors. "The g's are silent in Italian. At the end of line 2, can you say figlio? In German, there are two ways to pronounce ch. I want you to widen your mouth and say ich with plenty of air moving over your tongue." Luckily, I was able to reproduce the sounds he was making; thank god for being a native speaker of a tonal language. I laughed nervously and commented, "Gee, German and Italian, the two languages I've never sung in."

Next up, sight singing and rhythms. I misread an interval in the sight singing, but was able to correct myself on the second pass. The rhythms were fairly straightforward, though I lost count in the swing section and started that line over. I silently thanked all the people who have requested pieces on chimes which force me to sightread.

Finally, we went through a series of vocal exercises designed to test range. "What part do you sing? Alto 1 or alto 2?" I hesitated. "Well, I've been singing alto 2, though that was partially because we didn't have enough of them." Then, he began putting me through my paces with an array of interval exercises. "Hmm, I want you to sing this with a warm tone. Now I want you to sing the same thing as dark as possible." Wait, what? I was at a total loss for what to do, and attempted the phrase with more forceful punch the second time around. Was that what he meant by dark?

"Ok, that's enough for now. I've been through hundreds of auditions, so I like to give feedback at all my auditions because oftentimes you don't get any. So let's go through your audition, section by section. The pronounciation was a bit rough, but you were able to pick up and repeat what I wanted you to say, so that's really what I'm looking for. Plus, your repertoire is fairly thin, so I'm not surprised you were thrown by the text. Your pitch accuracy is great; you're always in tune. The rhythms were also perfect. Now, after hearing your range, I really don't think you're an alto, and I have a hard time even imagining you as an alto 2. Altos do have more difficult harmonic parts, so maybe you were put there because you're good with pitches. However, your upper range is so much cleaner that it's a disservice to put you in the alto section. One problem though, is that from about A to E your voice is extremely bright and sticks out. Above and below that you're fine. Unfortunately, the bulk of soprano 2 notes are in this range. You seemed unfamiliar with the terms 'warm' and 'dark,' but this is what I meant, and it will help you blend with the group." He demonstrated how to round your lips for a darker sound. It was by far the most informative audition I've ever had.

In the end, it appears that my failings (primarily due to a lack of vocal experience) were overshadowed by solid musical fundamentals and my potential for improvement. If you are in Chicago, look forward to me haranguing you to come to one of my concerts in the future.

The Classy/Trashy Divide

Jen's 23rd birthday dinner was Friday night, and she opted to celebrate at Oceanique, a French-inspired seafood restaurant in Evanston. This was definitely the priciest dinner I've had in long time. In fact, I can't remember the last time I went to a place that meticulously followed service rules for serving women first, counterclockwise around the table. (Had I not been a hotelie for a year and worked Statler banquets, I probably wouldn't have even noticed any of this.) Our water glasses were never more than halfway empty, and the sommelier was able to recommend a great South African wine.

Now for the important part: the food. After perusing the menu online, I was more than a little irritated to see that the menu had changed, and further, that prices had been raised. I ended up ordering the 3-course prix fix, figuring that I could afford to splurge, and it was terrific. I started out with a grilled calamari and shrimp appetizer, served over daikon radish and avocado salad with taro chips. This was followed by intermezzo, a scoop of four-berry sorbet served in a tiny teacup. The entree was tender piece of Alaskan halibut, resting on bright green pesto mashed potatoes. Since it was Jen's birthday dinner, we even got an extra dessert, a chocolate mousse accompanied by fresh fig, mango and berries.

For the occasion, I broke out a dress that I'd picked up at Urban Outfitters on a whim for $96. I rarely buy nice clothing, so this isn't saying much, but this is probably the most expensive item in my closet right now. It's funny how clothing definitely affects your mood; my appearance screamed cute femininity, and I felt an overwhelming urge to bat my eyelashes or go get my nails done.

Then I changed back into jeans after dinner, preparing for a night on the town with the Fed kids. When I showed up in Lincoln Park at midnight:

-Jen T (who has a boyfriend), was getting hit on by some guy, who was plying her with lots of free drinks

-Britton was getting hit on by some married guy, who kept texting her all night.

-Ed almost got into a fight with the guy hitting on Jen. Ed's about the last person I'd expect to ever seen in a bar brawl.

-Finally, Erik just had a minor altercation with some girl who didn't believe the triangle inequality. I think he almost slapped her. (And rightly so, how dare she argue with the power of mathematics!)

Normally, I'm happy to watch the circus that is Lincoln Ave bars, but tonight I left with a feeling of disgust in the pit of my stomach. Perhaps it was the jarring turn of events from the earlier part of the evening. Or maybe I just wasn't in the mood to watch drunken hijinks. Either way, I couldn't get past how ersatz and devoid of meaning the scene was. At the same time though, I must admit that neither am I completely at home in fancy restaurants. Flipping through a wine list with 7 pages of $1000 pinot noirs? That's hardly my comfort zone. I could relate to David's apprehension when he asked what each fork was used for.

All of this means the succeeding night I decided to sit on my couch and watch episodes of the Office on Hulu. Here's to being a fish in water.

2008 DCI Championships

Last weekend marked a new high in pageantry, as thousands crowded into a stadium to be treated to a display of artistry and athleticism. No, I don't mean the opening ceremony for the Beijing Olympics (though that was certainly a sight to see), but rather, the Drum Corps International (DCI) World Finals. This is the pinnacle of achievement in marching music, and I was thrilled to witness a season's worth of hard work and talent on exhibition.

For those unfamiliar, drum corps are similar to marching bands, and consist of (bell-front) brass instruments, percussion and color guard. There are several dozen junior DCI corps, which operate as non-profit businesses and go on summer circuit tours to compete at shows. Each corps has up to 150 members, and auditions for these are highly competitive, often beginning in November for next year's marching season. Over the summer, members dedicate ~10 weeks to full-time rehearsal and competition, culminating with performances from the top 12 corps at DCI Finals. This year, the championships were being held at Indiana University in Bloomington, about 3 hours from Chicago. I had never been to a DCI show before, but I was armed with Matt, a veteran marcher from the '06 season and self-proclaimed DCI obsessionist. He was able to fill in various tidbits of trivia about the individual corps and provide historical references.

When I first mentioned that I had tickets to see an "extreme marching band competition," I was primarily greeted with looks of apprehension. Marching band is popularly viewed as the province of band dorks, and with a reputation for loud, uncontrolled playing, it is not accorded much respect from music aficionados either. Well, I am here to tell you that this is a different animal altogether. However badly your high school band played "Tequila" at football games, push those thoughts aside because DCI deserves to be treated with the legitimacy of a unique art form. In fact, it strips away any pretense of connections with football, save for the field on which you perform.

How do I begin to describe what a drum corps show is like? Most people have played an instrument at one point in their life. Many have danced on stage, and still others have performed in theater. Now combine elements of all these disciplines (an alternate "Triple Threat," if you will), and coordinate over 100 individuals into a single, cohesive unit. A drum corps show is a top-notch concert, with a narrative that resonates with audiences and color guard for enhanced visual appeal. If done seamlessly, this is musical theater on a grand scale. In fact, whether or not you've had marching experience, I am positive that the vast majority of people would enjoy watching a drum corps show. It is a spectacle on the order of the Beijing opening ceremony.

Going into the night, my favorite corps was Carolina Crown, whose show "Finis" featured the Candide overture, among other pieces. But I couldn't remain partisan for long. The Glassmen had a whimsical show titled "Karneval" that featured the release of balloons into the sky. Blue Stars had a show ("Le Tour") themed around bicycles, with guard members rolling bike wheels across the field to each other. How could you resist? The Bluecoats show ("The Knockout") told the tale of a boxing match, with music from On the Waterfront and Rocky. On the field, the horns formed two rings, complete with a boxer inside. The Cavaliers' show ("Samurai") featured the eerie sounds of Japanese warriors and some of the coolest drill of the night. The Blue Devils ("Constantly Risking Absurdity") created a stick figure on the field at one point. And let's not forget their amazing bass line spin.

Now for the Phantom Regiment show. This corps was seeded second at the start of the night, up from 3rd place the night before. Their show was titled "Spartacus," and as the drum major rolled dominantly onto the field atop a platform, you could feel the crowd lean forward in anticipation. Guard members dressed as slaves staggered to the ground, as horn players shoved and kicked them. The performance began, and I was enraptured by the battle unfolding before me: for love, for freedom from Roman slavers, for the hearts of the audience. By the end, the crowds in the stands were on their feet, roaring "I am Spartacus!"

When the scores were announced, Phantom Regiment had taken first place by 0.025 points, the slimmest of margins. I've never felt a stadium quake with so much energy.

Drum corps shows are designed to take place on football fields, and as such, I can't tell you how large the gap is between watching a live show and seeing a grainy clip on YouTube. No photo, no CD, no DVD can possibly capture what it feels like to be in the stands with a smorgasbord of action below you, in every direction you turn. Should you hone in on the guard member riding a bicycle across the field, or watch for the snare feature? Oh boy, the marimba players just popped balloons in sequence! I can't think of another art form for which the gulf between an in-person and on-the-screen experience is wider. If you are the least bit curious about DCI, check next summer for a tour stop near you.