An open letter for the dude at R&B Night

Dear dude at R&B Night,

All right, I don't remember what you said your name was, and I'm not sure you heard what mine was over the music at R&B Night. You know, you were pretty polite and a decent dancer, which I'm not complaining about. I was more than OK with dancing with you and making small talk with you. You didn't act obnoxiously or entitled or in like any of the annoying guys I've had to fend off in the past. And you didn't drop me when you tried to dip me. That's a big plus! Can't tell you how annoying it is when a guy mis-judges his ability to support you and drops you on your butt!

However, dude at R&B night, here's where my compliments stop. You happened to step on my foot and wound up breaking my nail! That is SO not cool, random dude! I didn't even notice till I returned to my place and spent the rest of the night with a bottle of nail glue and the rest of today after work at J Beauty trying to find the perfect kind of topcoat to fix the broken nail.

Next time I see you, random dude, you better not make that mistake again. You can dance horrendously or sing off-key along with the band. But you cross the line when you mess up my pedicure! Forget the drink, you're buying me a new pedicure if I ever see you again.

And I mean it.

Still fuming among the nail glue fumes,

Revel

Quoth the revel

All righty, friends and admirers and probably some detractors of the Revel. Listen up here! I've gotten soooo many requests to see my new place (even before my move!), so I figured I had to write this and get it off my chest. After I move, I would be more than happy to have you all over (except the detractors, they can stay home and detract).
However, if you're planning to visit the Haus of Revel, you gotta play by the Haus Rules.

And here are some of the Haus Rules (I'm paying homage to my German heritage here with the spelling):

1. I've had people from all stripes ask me what I am paying in rent, and if I had a dime for every time I was asked, I would have...$1.50 or so. So I will make this super-easy to those of you who might be wondering what my rent is and just put it out there. My rent is....AFFORDABLE FOR ME. That is the truth, and that is all you're going to get from me.
   
2. I respect different points of view and enjoy a hearty debate. That said, if I hear any neo-con nonsense coming out of any of my guests, I am sending the offending guest down to the sidewalks. Via air mail, special delivery. Nothing in my lease (or conscience) that prohibits defenestration! I survived Bush for 8 years, I have faith that you can survive Obama for 8 years as well.
   
3. It's called a galley for a reason. If I am providing you with a meal, you may be my guest during the meal. Then after the meal, you are officially part of my pirate crew and will join me in my galley kitchen to help me clean up and do the dishes!
4. Your pets (excluding service animals). My place. Never the twain shall meet.
5. You can never have too much coffee. Expect me to have it at the ready. At any hour of the day.
   
6. Texting while driving is really dangerous. (I have a friend who died after being hit by a texting driver.) Texting while I am trying to talk to you is really stupid and rude and will earn you a suspension of invites to future Haus of Revel events.
7. If I am hosting a holiday, we are not going to spend it with a silly game on the TV or sandwiching the holiday between two silly games. AT ALL. That even includes my beloved Fighting Illini, Lady Blue Demons, and White Sox. It's a holiday so consider this day a holiday from watching the silly sports game. You're welcome.
   
8. Look, I understand about public transportation getting in late and getting stuck in traffic. Totally understandable. However, you know what I feel about being late. There is no such thing as "Fashionably Late." Unless the situation is out of your control, you're either On Time or you're Rude. Please do not be rude.
   
9. Like I said, I enjoy asking and answering questions. However, I also reserve the right to deny you future Haus of Revel invites if you ask if my parents are helping me foot the bill or find the place. Short answer: My haus search was 100% done by me and paid for by me. If I had accepted help or financial assistance, I would not have spent almost a year trying to find the place!
10. I know you love where you live. I'm happy you love your apartment or house or other dwelling place, really. That does not mean you get to make comparisons about what your place has that mine does not. If you feel the need to comment on the superiority of your place/area, then kindly do us all a favor and go back there.
11. Yes, Virginia, people still do live in apartments that are over shops. I am living in one (and so are the other tenants in my complex), therefore, people must still do this. Can't tell you how many people have said, "I didn't even know people still did that!"
    
12. AND FINALLY the haus rules are subject to expansion at any given time!
    

That is all. Revel has spoken. Pay attention, and you may find yourself invited back to see me or to paint the downtown in which I live.

Now back to packing...

Gertrude Stein, eat ya heart out!

From Four Saints in Three Acts by Gertrude Stein:

Pigeons on the grass, alas
Pigeons on the grass, alas

From Alex watching as the Red Line leaves Argyle Street Station in Chicago:

Pigeons on the el, what the hell?

From Alex, horrified that a certain pigeon didn't get out of the train's way in time:

Pigeon on the el...oh well

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Well, with all those posts that were on the angry side, I figured that the best thing to do would be to write about something completely and totally different. So you will get a lesson from me about the wonderful Magic of Love! Yes, that's right! Loooove! So put away your Cosmopolitan magazine and ditch your old novels because the revel's gonna learn ya better than school in the arts of love.

Okay, you're probably wondering, "But why are you doing this?" or "What could an old, cold cynic like yourself know about love?" Good question! You're absolutely right, I have for the longest time been the biggest old cynic around. But now I will turn my act around and dedicate this post in all its entirety to LOVE. And that's not all! Any good academic (or grant manager) knows, you must absolutely cite your sources, so I will tell you the font of wisdom from whence I quaffed to get these pearls of wisdom.

So this is the revel's post about Love. As taught to me by the countless chick flicks and romantic comedies I have been forced to sit through by my friends and accomplices.

Revel's Guide to Finding Love
1. If someone creepy is stalking you, don't give him a restraining order, give him a chance at a relationship with you!
Think stalkers are scary and creepy? Think again! It's not stalking, it's romantic! That creeper is only so concerned about your well-being, so give the poor thing a chance. Never mind that it might be bad for your well-being to worry about being stalked. Look at Twilight. The pasty vampire dude with the fwoopy hair is always stalking his human love interest, Bella. And look where that gets him! Tons of teen girls thinking he's like the greatest thing ever, not to mention the love of Bella. So if you find yourself in that situation, consider yourself lucky!
2. You must be a middle-to-upper-class white, heterosexual female. Your wisecracking sidekicks don't have to be, though.
Look at all the leads in the chick flicks that have come out over the last five years. You'd be hard-pressed to find a minority woman as the lead role. You'd be even harder-pressed to find one that was either underemployed or had another woman as her love interest. It's all the same old, boy-meets-white-straight-girl story. Then take a look at the secondary roles. Wondering where all the gals who don't fit that category get to go?
3. You must also be conventionally thin and beautiful. If you're not, then you must become that way.
Observe how all the middle-to-upper class, white, hetero ladies who are cast as the leads are all conventionally attractive. Consider yourself average or geeky-looking? Well, don't worry, you can always get a makeover to show people that your outer beauty matches your inner beauty! Observe how the protagonists in The Princess Diaries, The Devil Wears Prada, and My Big Fat Greek Wedding all shed their geeky image and wind up getting the love of their lives. Romance is for the pretty! Don't feel like going the distance? Don't worry, I hear that they might still have open slots for the wisecracking sidekick role.
4. There are only two kinds of guys that matter. The guy you are dating who turns out to be totally icky and the icky guy you wind up dating. The guy friend does not exist. Observe the countless films made with a sharp, motivated female lead and a total dunderhead of a date for her: Knocked Up, The Ugly Truth, and The Proposal. Think your guy is great for you? Don't be an idiot! He will soon will wind up having some awful personality flaw, and you can't have that! Now think about that icky guy who gave you some lame pickup line in the dive bar. THAT is your future husband. Go find him now before he passes out in his own vomit at the dive bar.
5. "Career Women" are total harpies.
Note how all the women in the films mentioned in #4 are strong and motivated and have jobs they like. Well, that's why they can't find a man and are thus utterly pathetic excuses for females! They might as well turn in their second X-chromosome! Oh wait, that's why there's the icky guys they must fall in love with to keep from turning into and staying total monsters! Don't believe me? Well, you don't have to read this post to hear it! See my 2008 post, "Why You Should Marry a Doormat" for added info.
6. You must be tamed. By that icky guy who can rescue you from the harpyness you are becoming.
This one goes without saying. And there are many ways to tame you, too! You can learn to love his ickiness and realize that he truly is, deep down, an icky guy worth loving. Or you can wind up accidentally getting pregnant by him and learning to love that. After all, isn't that what happens in these tales, otherwise there'd be no story. But hey, it's what people in love do, right?

That is all. Revel has spoken. Now follow those rules and you will have the mens eating out of your manicured hands! (And you might just find a ring on the left one in due time...)

I am the history geek!

Okay, this is probably the first time you've heard me call myself a geek, but I just received dramatic proof that I am indeed one! No, I can totally dress fine and I do have some social skills.

BUT...for one of my classes, I have to go into the archives (same place I found that amusing article about The Lavender Menace, see my post about the unaccompanied women). I wish they were a little closer to campus, but once I'm in there, you cannot stop me! The archivist lady brought out the boxes of material, and I was voraciously digging into into them! I'm serious! She dumped this giant box of articles about student protests (did you know there was an archive for protests alone?? How cool is that?), and I'm all like, "WOOHOO! LET'S GET THIS PARTAY STARTED!" And I just couldn't extricate myself from them!! Guaranteed, not all of the articles were all that positive (history is not always happy), but I was sooooo into reading about the student groups and coffee houses and protests of yore. Not to mention thinking about modern groups that probably grew out of them! AAAAAHHH....I so want to go back tomorrow and Wednesday! I've got an appointment to look through the archives of the YWCA tomorrow, and I'm more than stoked about it. This is way more addicting than the time I went into the microfilm room back during soph year. With microfilms, you see the image on the screen. In the archives, you get to TOUCH the materials. You get to feel what old feels like! You get to have your hands on something that has seen activists before you and see how they did it (yes, I am more tactile of a learner).

WHO would have thought it? I am the history geek! Hear me roar!

Baby, I had a dream

When you get a week off, you go to Cancun. When you get three months off, you work. Yeah...that makes sense...

But I am feeling silly after spending the evening with friends, so here goes another song of love and loss.

Baby, I Had a Dream

You bought me a kitty cat.
It made me cry.
I've always been allergic to kitty cats...and I'm pretty sure you knew that.

Baby, I had a dream the other night.
I can't forget!
I can't forget the awful sight
Of your head STUCK IN THE FREEZER!
Baby, I couldn't tell if you were experimenting with poor man's cryogenics or just looking for the ice cream.

So Baby, if you want out, then tell me you're out,
And I'll get going on my way.
If you want out, then tell me you're out,
And I'll get going on my way.

Baby, I had a dream the other night.
There in your hand was a knife!
A very sharp knife!
You said YOU'D CUT YOUR HEART OUT!
Baby, there you stood with your heart in your hand.
You said, "Here is my heart! You wanted the damn thing so bad, here, now take it!"

So Baby, if you want out, then tell me you're out,
And I'll get going on my way.
If you want out, then tell me you're out,
And I'll get going on my way.

Baby, I have overheard you complaining on the phone to your mother.
And the only reason I mention this now is that book I saw on your night table:
"There must be 50 ways to kill your lover."
Fifty ways to kill your lover??!!

Baby, I had a dream the other night.
I can't forget!
I can't forget the awful sight
Of the bookcase toppling DOWN ON ME!
Baby, the bookcase missed my head.
Now I am really well-read.
I was stuck under there for hours!

So Baby, if you want out, then tell me you're out,
And I'll get going on my way.
If you want out, then tell me you're out,
And I'll get going on my way.

You bought me that kitty cat,
And you know what? That's just fine.
My dog enjoys chewing on your kitty cat.
...Good dog.

--Robbie Schaefer