Cancerous ignorance is bliss.

From the Society of Environmental Journalists:

GREAT LAKES STUDY SUPPRESSED

"For more than seven months, the nation's top public health agency has blocked the publication of an exhaustive federal study of environmental hazards in the eight Great Lakes states, reportedly because it contains such potentially 'alarming information' as evidence of elevated infant mortality and cancer rates," reports the Center for Public Integrity.

Chris De Rosa, former director of the division of toxicology and environmental medicine at the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry (ATSDR), has charged that he was demoted for writing the report.

That claim may be harder to evaluate, because it seems ATSDR (housed at the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta) may have demoted De Rosa for writing another report — the one saying formaldehyde in FEMA trailers distributed after Hurricane Katrina was a health risk. CDC has been accused of suppressing that information also.

The original peer reviewers of the study reportedly had no major problems with it and still want it published.

The House Science Committee has begun an investigation into the matter.

• "Congressional Committee Probes Killing of Great Lakes Cancer Report," Twin Cities Daily Planet, February 21, 2008, by Eartha Jane Melzer, Minnesota Monitor.
• "Great Lakes Danger Zones?" Center for Public Integrity, Feb. 7, 2008, by Sheila Kaplan.
• "Delay of Report Is Blamed on Politics," Washington Post, February 18, 2008, by Kari Lydersen.
• "Toxic Info Withheld," Living On Earth, Steve Curwood interviews De Rosa on show airdated week of Feb. 15, 2008

Thanks to a friend on LJ for sharing this report.

oh, look. more snow.

Between Isolt's tales of her adventures in San Francisco and the recent find of the People Reading (in San Francisco) blog, I'm feeling a bit homesick.

It's snowing again today here.

The only things I've "accomplished" during the break are surviving, avoiding spending money I don't have, improving the condition of my skin, clearing the pile of clothes and my un-unpacked suitcase from winter break off my bedroom floor and vacuuming, setting up my humidifier, cleaning my bathroom, doing some backend stuff on my blogs, and getting back into flossing, vitamin-taking, whole grain-eating, and neti pot-using habits.

. . . Well, it could be worse, I suppose.

Pestiside

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Pestiside is enough to make you bust a gut sometimes. I'm sure having an expat history in Budapest adds a certain dze ne szé kua to the experience of watching, but I don't think enjoyment depends on it.

Spenót az Állatkertben

Spenót: My favorite new Hungarian language study method.

Letters from Home: Annotated Edition

This mix, Letters from Home, has a gentle, sweet sadness to it that corresponds to its smooth, mainly acoustic, often rather minimalist sound. It's brooding, and often retrospective, but not hopeless, and to me, it's suggestive of seeking out a kind of inner strength and appreciating the beauty of love and relationships while coming to terms with our inevitable isolation as human beings.

Note: Anyone with copyright for these songs who wishes for your content to be removed, I will gladly do so immediately if you request that I do so.

Playlist:
1. Ani Difranco - Independence Day
2. PJ Harvey - Ballad of the Soldier's Wife
3. Regina Spektor - Samson
4. Vienna Teng - Now Three
5. The Persuasions - Oh, Heavenly Salvation
6. Orpheum Bell - Pretty as You
7. Sufjan Stevens - To Be Alone with You
8. Jenny Owen Youngs - Bricks
9. Elliott Smith - Between the Bars
10. Eva Cassidy - Kathy's Song
11. Camera Obscura - Books Written for Girls
12. Antony and the Johnsons - Hope There's Someone
13. Patty Griffin - Rowing Song
14. Jenny Owen Youngs - Fuck Was I
15. Vienna Teng - Pontchartrain


Notes:
1. Ani Difranco manages to remain one of the most flexible, prolific, outspoken, and trailblazing modern musicians out there, weaving an Allen Ginsberg-esque confessional quality with down-home folkiness and a pushy yet highly personalized brand of feminism I really appreciate. I was slow to love Little Plastic Castle, probably because it was pushing the envelope musically in directions I hadn't heard her go before, and I was attached at the time to the sound of her early stuff. When I came around to getting it, it became my favorite of hers. "Independence Day," to me, says something profound about vulnerability and our connections to other people.

2. This song, as well as track 5 (missing for now) are from an album of Kurt Weill songs sung by various artists that my friend Dani turned me onto. (Those of you who heard my mix I made in my cottage in Austin several years ago may see no small irony in its title, "September Songs.") PJ Harvey's uniquely brash voice gives a particular chill to the tragic end of the "Ballad of the Soldier's Wife" [September Songs: The Music of Kurt Weill]

3. Regina Spektor explains the story of the changes she made to the early version of "Samson" from her self-released album Songs in this interview, which is also telling about her own relationship with her music. As far as she's concerned, the one on her album Begin to Hope is the right version and she wishes she could erase all the copies of her previous performance. Unlike her, though, I personally really prefer the slow one I've included here. It seems so much more intimate and careful, two qualities I really love about this song. The reworking of biblical stories to reflect on much despised female figures is a popular activity, and the Samson/Delilah story seems to have attracted especially a lot of musical attention. Anyway, one of the many reasons I love this song is the way it suggests the mystery in the connection between two people and also the surprising banality and everydayness even of a great tragedy.

4. Vienna Teng grabbed hold of my soul and pulled us into a frenzied, ecstatic dance from the first moment I heard her on NPR. I was further bowled over when I heard her in concert at the Ark in Ann Arbor. Dreaming through the Noise is the first album of hers I got to know. "Now Three" always reminds me of one particular friend of mine, to the point that I think of it really as her song. Initially I started making this mix for her, and then I realized it was as much for me as it was for her. The thing about this song is that it's romantic to the point of bordering on folly, or at the least to to the point of being effacing of everything else. It dives right into the mystical and frightening aspects of love, but does so with so much purity of heart that there's a clarity and a gentle resolution to it.

5. The Persuasions - Oh, Heavenly Salvation [September Songs] Also from the Kurt Weill album, but gone for the moment until my hard drive cooperates.

6. Orpheum Bell is a local Ann Arbor band, whose first album is a little inconsistent, but compelling, and it shows a lot of interesting musical potential, with yummy, pretty vocals from Merrill Hodnefield, and instrumentation that draws on bluegrass, folk, Gillian Welch-like "American primitivism," jazz, klezmer, and Balkan folk music. "Pretty as You" is a lovely, nostalgic song that suggestively touches on something old and mysterious and long-lost. [buy album Pretty as You]

7. Sufjan Stevens is an artist I've been listening to in little bits for a while, but whom I've taken some time to get into. Part of the reason I like this song is its Michigan reference; Stevens is from Detroit, so I feel connected to the geographic landscape he's relating to. I also appreciate the feeling of love and longing he describes in "To Be Alone with You" [Seven Swans]

8. I just love this song from Jenny Owen Youngs, seeking some sense and order in a fragmented and often disruptive world we don't have much control over.

9. Somehow I only 'discovered' Elliott Smith recently. Under the guise of being reassuring, "Between the Bars" is a very dark and disturbing song about hiding from what we don't want to acknowledge. And I can't imagine who isn't tempted to listen to such voices at times of suffering . . . Incidentally, I just heard the Madeleine Peyroux cover of the song, too, which is cool, but I'm partial to the original. [Buy Either/Or]

10. The late Eva Cassidy's cover of Simon and Garfunkel's "Kathy's Song" is perhaps even more tender than the original, and just ever so beautiful with her sweet voice. It's a loving song, but also one about being separated from one you love. Thanks very much to someone in Audiography for introducing me to her. [Time after Time]

11. I believe I discovered the Scottish band Camera Obscura through the British music website last.fm, which I cannot recommend enough, simply by poking around bands similar to others I liked, and bands liked by people with similar tastes to me. The live acoustic version of "Books Written for Girls" couldn't be simpler musically, but I love the sound of it, and its sweet sad wistfulness. [album]

12. "Hope There's Someone" has a bareness musically that resembles the previous song, relying exclusively on piano and vocals. But the stunning and unusual vocal quality Antony brings to the music of Antony and the Johnsons has me rather mesmerized by this band. [catalog] [I am a Bird Now]

13. The repetitiveness of Patty Griffin's "Rowing Song" makes it rather like a lullaby, I think. The lyrics are gently reassuring despite the solitary and wistful quality of the song. [Impossible Dream]

14. The gem "Fuck Was I" by Jenny Owen Youngs is one I first heard from her when she opened for Vienna Teng at the Ark. I really like her G-rated video for the song, surprisingly, too. It's such a simple little song, but it's very catchy, and so immediately easy to relate to.

15. Only Vienna Teng could get away with writing an outsider's song about the disaster in New Orleans that doesn't come across as tacky, maudlin, or sugar-coated. "Pontchartrain" is simply haunting and brilliant. "Who drew the line, who drew the line between you and me; who drew the line that everyone sees?"

Dancing With Myself: Annotated Edition

So, since Audiography compelled me to write more about my mixes, I'll include the annotated collectors editions here too.

Dancing with Myself is a mix with lots of covers, some French, British, Irish, American, and Brazilian pop, a little R&B, some indie folk, a touch of electronica, and a smattering of bossa nova. Here is the tracklist; below are the notes. It's got a relatively upbeat sound. About as upbeat as I get, I think.

Anyone with copyright for these songs who wishes for your content to be removed, I will gladly do so immediately if you request that I do so.

Dancing with Myself -- Playlist
1. Jenny Owen Youngs -- Hot in Herre
2. Tricky -- The Lovecats
3. Camille -- Au Port
4. Aimee Mann -- Save Me
5. Fionn Regan -- Put a Penny in the Slot
6. Nouvelle Vague -- Dancing with Myself
7. Camille -- Vous
8. Nouvelle Vague -- Blue Monday
9. Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot -- Bonnie and Clyde
10. The Indelicates -- A New Art for the People
11. Postal Service -- Such Great Heights
12. Macy Gray -- I Try
13. Lauren Hill -- To Zion
14. Johnny Cash -- Hurt
15. Nouvelle Vague -- Ever Fall in Love
16. Stan Getz, Joao Gilberto, and Astrud Gilberto -- Corcovado
17. Johnny Cash -- One
18. The Decemberists -- We Both Go Down Together
19. Regina Spektor -- On the Radio
20. Elis Regina -- Bala Com Bala
21. MC Solaar -- Inch'Alla
22. Regina Spektor -- Apres Moi
23. Aimee Mann -- Ghost World
24. Beth Orton -- Wish I Never Saw the Sunshine
25. The Decemberists -- Apology Song

Dancing With Myself -- Notes

1. Is the joke ever going to get old, that of listening to an attractive young woman reapportion an incredibly sexist song? Somehow I doubt it. I love Alanis Morissette's version of My Humps, and I can't get enough of Jenny Owen Youngs singing this one. She has an uncanny ability to deliver ridiculously silly with unfailing deadpan. I discovered her in concert opening for Vienna Teng. Luckily, it was the "late" show at the Ark, so I also got to hear her pottymouth, so hilarious paired with her sweet young exterior. What a find!

2. Tricky is just so bloody sexy, no matter what he does. This song is especially fun given its remarkable departure from the cure's original version. [purchase mp3]

3. Camille is COOL. She's an award-winning French pop singer with an experimental je ne sais quoi in her remarkable vocals sort of reminiscent of Bjork, along with play with hambone reminiscent of Bobby Mcferrin. As one reviewer calls Camille Dalmais' work, it's "hypnotic, exotic and distinct". She started her solo career after breaking away from Nouvelle Vague, also on this mix. [More critical discussion on her album as a whole.] [purchase Le Fil]

4. As far as I'm concerned, Aimee Mann's songs are evergreen pop classics. She says about the song: "I like to think of it as the song that lost an Oscar to Phil Collins and his cartoon monkey love song." She sings: "You look like a perfect fit for a girl in need of a tourniquet." Great lyrics, nice vocals, catchy songs, and often touching on a kind of human vulnerability that makes them seem pleasantly organic. [purchase Magnolia soundtrack]

5. Oh, Fionn Regan. Somebody on Audiography got me started with him, and I can't tell you how much I adore this song. It takes you so many directions you're not expecting with its playful, clever, yet soulful lyrics, and his voice is SO CUTE. The bare-bones acoustic sound, the conversational tone peppered with literary references, and the fantastical narrative arc of his story, to me, give the overall effect like you're hearing a song from that quiet, black-clad skinny kid you never thought to talk to in high school, with all his unspoken inner thoughts. (Only, in this case, he has a Dubliner accent.) This reviewer likens him to Nick Drake and Elliott Smith. His album The End of History was one of the 12 shortlisted in the UK for the 2007 Mercury Prize. [video]

6. "Nouvelle Vague" is French for "new wave," and the band's schtick is to take old classics of that genre, without listening to them, and remake them with a whispery, light sound drawing on bossa nova (which, by the way, is Portuguese for "new wave"). The effect is smart and sexy; at times, hilarious, and often dance-worthy. I dance in my kitchen to this song, adding another layer to some existential irony bank.

7. I was making this mix for some friends who had requested some Nouvelle Vague, and I really liked how the jauntiness of the previous tune shifted into this other song by Camille, with its continuing underlying tone (in one sense, the "thread" referenced in the album title) and its minimal, elemental quality: nothing but vocals with that single tone.

8. Though Camille isn't included in this iteration of the band as she was on the previous album by Nouvelle Vague, there's still a kinship you sense between her sound and the smooth, sultry vocals of Melanie Pain here.

9. Somebody posted this fabulous song of Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot during the duets week on Audiography, and its sound won me over. The production delights me with the "wohoo-oo" periodically in the background, the combination of this pair's vocal qualities, and the whole French fascination with American bad-guys . . . [buy]

10. And speaking of bad guys. Well, this song speaks for itself. It shocks you completely with its nastiness, its . . . well, indelicacy. It's catchy if you're not listening to the lyrics. And if you do, you're open-mouthed. Where do you go from a beginning like "But for the come in your hair, the cocaine on your teeth, you'd be just like the girls that I kissed on the heath"?? "A New Art for the People" could be an anthem for those living the rock & roll lifestyle. And it's delightfully, self-referentially, about just that. Hooray for The Indelicates. [preorder their new album]

11. Veronica Mars (RIP) had this song on its soundtrack; I'd heard it before that, but that was when it grabbed my attention again. There's a way it seems to contrast the world of the objective and mechanical with the world of the subjective and organic -- both in its sound, with the highly digitized sounding electronic accompaniment and the vocals floating over it, and in its lyrics, with their attention to the human body and the intimacy of a relationship that others can't necessarily relate to at a distance. The video for the song reinforces this feeling. The Postal Service reminds me a bit of the wonderful magnetic fields in its sound, but it isn't as cheeky and ironic, at least in this song. [buy CDs & gear]

12. Macy Gray always catches my heart in my throat with the soulful, rich, growly sound of her voice, and who can't relate to the kind of damned if you do, damned if you don't feeling she describes in "I Try"? (It's one I especially empathize with at the moment.) Since this got lots of radio play, you probably know it, but I think it can't be appreciated enough. [buy]

13. I was just talking a couple of weeks ago with my friends (for whom I made the mix) about the wonder of pregnancy and childbirth, so I couldn't resist including Lauren Hill's stunningly beautiful song about her son, "To Zion." The friend who introduced me to the song years ago told me it made her cry, and it does me, too. It all comes back around, too, because that same friend is just about to give birth to a daughter, in the next couple of weeks. I like the way Macy Gray segues into Lauryn Hill, too, not only because they have some stylistic continuity, but especially because Hill's intense, joyful confidence and wisdom in "To Zion" gives a kind of nice resolution to the angst underlying Gray's "I Try"[buy The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill]

14. Johnny Cash (happy belated birthday, Johnny!) brings us to a different kind of resolution, though, and his cover of Trent Reznor's "Hurt" has a way of crawling up inside me, giving me goosebumps all over. If you're not familiar with this version of the song, you should definitely see the video, with flashbacks of Johnny Cash's complex life and associations with his many diverse experiences. Having seen Walk the Line gives me even a deeper appreciation of this song, somehow. [buy The Man Comes Around]

15. If we're meditating on love, though, we can't get too dark. With their cover of Buzzcocks' "Ever Fall in Love," Nouvelle Vague remains thematically (and even lyrically) in a similar place as Reznor's song brings us, but their sound takes us back to the lighter side of things somehow anyway, in spite of it all. [enjoy the classic version]

16. And then we take a step back into Heaven with this classic bossa nova recording from Stan Getz, Joao Gilberto, and Astrud Gilberto. "Corcovado" is one of my favorite songs of all time, and one that I was working on performing when I was practicing jazz and bossa nova standards with a guitarist friend of mine in Budapest before I came back to grad school. Is there a Sunday that is really complete without bossa nova? I believe it seriously lowers your blood pressure, with rhythms and gentle sounds that soothe no matter what kind of stress you're under. How can you not be happier when it's in your life? [buy Getz/Gilberto]

17. Ephemerality is a part of life (and love), too. Johnny Cash reminds us here with his lovely acoustic cover of U2's "One". This song in its original and this version is another favorite of mine, with its complex and multi-layered meanings. Is it about Germany? Is it about lovers? Is it about friends? Family? Are we ever to know for sure? The gravelly and slightly shaky sound of Johnny Cash's late-career voice gives yet another layer of meanings to this beautiful song. [buy Solitary Man]

18. Is the narrator of The Decemberists' "We Both Go Down Together" a madman and a rapist? Or just your average upper-class Victorian in a passionate romance with a working-class girl? Does either of these scenarios make this any less of a compelling love song, in its own completely bizarre way? The band's magical gift of fantasy and storytelling comes through with particular grace in this dramatic song, about unity in destruction. [Picaresque]

19. When you see the ever quirky and creative Regina Spektor standing in classroom in front of a public elementary school music class, directing little Black children holding rhythm sticks and then musical instruments, it's odd and a little unnerving, but also playful and somehow a little reassuring. She has a tidy little pop narrative that explains everything about life and love, and it isn't all easy, but it makes it all make sense anyway in "On the Radio." [Begin to Hope]

20. If you don't know the late Elis Regina, one of the superstars of MPB (popular Brazilian music), you should watch this wonderful video of her singing Jobim's song The Waters of March. Her popularity was incredible, and the news reporting of her death and the crowds her casket drew is reminiscent of what I've heard about Cuba after salsa legend Celia Cruz died. "Bala Com Bala" is positively effervescent.

21. Now, a trip into the "solaar system." Claude M'Barali, "born in Dakar on March 5th 1969," was raised in France from infancy by parents of Tchad origin. "'MC Solaar' is adapted from his old graffiti tags SOAR and SOLAAR which he used to spray on the walls of his local housing estate." (source.) For those of you who are American and aren't familiar with "housing estate," think "housing project." These suburban areas of Paris, where North African immigrant families (as well as second and third generation French of North African origin) are most densely concentrated, are some of the same areas where popular discontent over racial & socioeconomic issues has helped fuel riots in recent years in France. The discography of this talented French-African rap artist illustrates how incredibly prolific he is. His sound is very cool, with unusual, Arabic-sounding sampling, French-language singing and rapping, and a unique feel you should enjoy even if you can't understand the lyrics [video there too!] "Inch'Allah" is a phrase that gets transliterated differently in different countries, but that means, roughly, "If God wills it."

22. Oh, Regina Spektor, with her smart references (here, to Louis XV, and Boris Pasternak) . "Apres Moi" is suggestive to me of the wrongheadedness of isolationism, and the house of cards it really represents.

23. Aimee Mann's smart song "Ghost World", inspired by Daniel Clowes' fabulous graphic novel by the same name, paints a vivid portrait of the unique angst and uncertainty of high school adolescents, but in the process also sheds light on something more universal about ambition, desire, and human limitations, I think: "So I'm bailing this town, or tearing it down, or probably more like, hanging around." [review of Bachelor No 2. Buy Bachelor No. 2]

24. Beth Orton is a British vocalist who is so unassuming, with a breathy and slightly tentative way of singing that I find infinitely charming. I saw her in concert at the Austin City Limits music festival several years ago, and was struck by how shy she seemed; you would have thought she was a no-name performer. Some of her music falls squarely into electronica, some of her work incorporates those sounds but draws also on other genres such as folk and jazz, like her artful album Central Reservation. More recent work is more stripped down. This live performance of "Wish I Never Saw the Sunshine" is purely acoustic, foregrounding her subtle and sensitive vocals in this wistful song. [Pass in Time]

25. Sometimes I think The Decemberists just sit around and make up challenges for themselves, or perhaps take them from quirky fans, a la Strongbad, like "Oh, oh, I bet you can't write a good song about an ankle!" or, "Oh, there's no way you could make a plausible song about a stolen bicycle that likens it to a beloved pet girlfriend!" and then they proceed to do just that. "Apology Song" is just one of those fabulous examples of them proving, "Yes, we can, and what's more, we have done." [Five Songs]

Annotated version of Letters from Home to come. [EDIT: It has arrived!]

Blogger friends, this list has some pretty cool widgets, as does this site.

You can call me now by following the link below, if you so desire. :)

Ok! Mix more or less complete. I couldn't get a hold of the one song from that Kurt Weill album, so we'll have to wait on that. But, if you're interested in hearing the rest, it's here, entitled provisionally, "Letters from Home."

It's interesting, when I first heard about Regina Spektor, I initially downloaded a handful of her songs, not knowing which albums they were off of, just to get a feel for her sound. And then when I got a hold of her album Begin to Hope, I heard the new version of "Samson", and was disappointed, and a little confused. It seemed so much less intimate and careful, two qualities I really loved about the one I knew and loved. I found this interview that explains the story of the changes, and also is kind of telling about her own relationship with her music. But, unlike her, I personally really prefer the slow one that was on her self-released Songs. And it just feels more right on this mix. So it's the one on there.

In other music news, Erika has gotten me into the Kate Nash fan club. So cute!

I spent my morning doing at-home spa treatments, drinking fermented barley water and oat grass and peppermint tea, and doing a facial treatment with an aromatherapy steam (lemon, lavender, and mint) and some extraction, two different kinds of masques, one with tourmaline and one for healing and soothing, a rosehip peel with brush massage, moisturizing with my super thick, rich Hungarian aloe cream moisturizer, cleansing with seaweed soap and finally topping it all off with a lighter moisturizer mixed with a bit of my Duac acne medication, and ceramide eye cream around the eyes. Needless to say, my skin feels pretty amazing.

Iranian "diagnosed transsexuals"

This is pretty amazing. In Iran, where homosexuality is forbidden, many young men who find themselves attracted to other men undergo sex change operations, and the rates of the operation are higher than anywhere else in the world except for in Thailand. A new film, Be Like Others, explores the experiences of some of these young people.

That other playlist, the unofficial "breakup mix"

Lailah reminded me that I forgot to post the mix we can, for short-hand purposes, call the "break-up mix". I didn't make it with that in mind, but I made it while I was feeling, and being, mopey and reclusive, and the more I listened to it while I was mopey and reclusive the more I realized that it was all about loss, alienation, people disappointing you in deep and existential ways, and seeking reserves of inner strength on solitary journeys. Huh.

Well, here's the list. As I mentioned to Liles, my external hard drive AND my laptop are acting up, and I can't access my music for the time being, sadly. So you'll have to wait for the tracks themselves until I sort out my computer woes, if you're interested in them.

I'll say some more about the artists when I can actually provide, but one thing I have to mention now is that tracks 2 and 5 are from an album of Kurt Weill songs sung by various artists that Dani turned me onto. Yeah. (Those of you who heard my mix I made in my cottage in Austin several years ago may see no small irony in its title, "September Songs.")

(new extended version added above to replace this old post!)

Happy Monday to y'all.

I'm a little sad that, having discovered surfthechannel.com and bit torrenting, I have now exhausted the existing stock of Gossip Girl episodes on top of all the other silly shows I've been enjoying. I think I will have to take Erika's advice and start exploring the wonder of the new Dr. Who once I finish up Coupling.

Ah, wonderful free time. I have a lasagna in the oven (I opted for the simplest version, with nothing but pasta, sauce, spices, and cheese) that smells yummy, and am doing the laundry and drinking some Bell's Two Hearted ale I found hiding in the back of the cupboard.

I have a new obsession with scramble that has taken over for my previously irrepressible compulsion to play scrabulous.

Another day, another sunset.

You'd think I'd get tired of the same exact view and capturing it with the tiniest, most subtle variations of color and tone. But somehow, I don't.

La Belle Dame sans Montmerency

The funny thing about running out of money is that it forces you to be very creative, to draw on hidden reserves. Not only figuratively, but literally, practically. Suddenly it's very handy, my habit of over-buying and hoarding amazing supplies of delicious jarred sauces, canned and dry beans and legumes, frozen chicken and ground beef, tofu, tempeh, and a variety of nuts, dried fruits, and whole grains that even the Whole Foods bulk section would have difficulty surpassing. If I were snowed in for a month, I don't think I would starve here, and I might actually get progressively healthier as I relied increasingly on whole foods and ate more and more rationed portions.

I'm sitting here eating a breakfast of home-cooked oatmeal with dried Montmerency cherries and blueberries, toasted pecans, and honey, as I write this. This afternoon (or over the next couple of days), I'll prepare a whole wheat lasagna with spinach and beef, a couple of broccoli/mushroom quiches, a carrot and lentil salad with feta, lemon juice and red onion, and a chicken curry of some kind with ginger, mushrooms, carrots, celery, onions, and snap peas to serve over brown rice. And that will still not exhaust my fresh food from my big grocery shopping expeditions at Costco, Busch's, and Kroger at the beginning of the month.

Yes, I could use a credit card to fill up the gas tank and buy more food, so I could have whole milk with my coffee just the way I like it, and my favorite dry cereal with fresh blueberries, more fresh spinach and grape tomatoes for salads, and whatever else I am inclined to reach for when I open the fridge initially. But I've decided that I'm not going to do that until I really have to, because for now I'm very well fed and enjoying being in retreat from the world. It's a beautiful, sunny day out on the lake, and I have nowhere I need to be. And I even have delicious fair-trade organic coffee from my awesome, wonderful friend Katie. :)

So, I'm just going to stay here, clean house, write, and listen to the birds, while I give myself facial masks and a manicure, drink cleansing teas and fermented barley water and do other fun cleansing rituals from Helene Silver. Later this week I'll dig out my certificate for a free pedicure at Aveda Institute, and probably finally get a little sassy haircut to style my wacky mop I've been growing out for a few months without losing too much of the length.

Yes, life's okay.

Sunset the other night.

oh, my lucky charms. . . so offensive!

feverish and really down today.

it was a long week with the exam writing and the kiddies freaking out about their 5-page papers and my talk on friday. (it went well, thankfully.)

i'm out of coffee and i don't even have enough money to buy another pound of it or to fill my gas tank. i got an uncertain answer about summer funding from the department, so i may be looking at another summer in michigan. i saw a job posting at the errc and was very tempted to apply. but i can't do one more thing right now. i have to get my paper written for alaina in order to be eligible for a gsi-ship next year.

i miss besim. it's finally sinking in that i'm really single again.

and it is SO grey here.

i'm not quite sure why i left my bed this morning.

Why "Coupling" is completely f-ing brilliant

Sally: "Patrick, impotence is the word."

Patrick: "Sally, there are some words you don't say to a man, they're too technical, like commitment or cervix."

Oh, it's SO good.

I'm okay, you're okay

So last night when I was coming home from campus late (after finally finishing an incredibly long day in which I solidified my social work preliminary exam committee, attended seminar and lecture and ran the GSI meeting for 101, wrote a reading response to the articles on consumerism and the "thaw" for seminar this week, talked for a couple hours with three other women from my tiny program to share advice, ideas, and commiseration, and wrote my exam questions for the Anthro 101 exam), my car slid off the road into a snowbank and I couldn't get it out.

It was no more than five feet off the road, and not very deeply stuck in the snow, and I wasn't injured at all in the process (I was going very slowly, because I knew I had little control on the snow-covered road that desperately needed plowing). But still, there I was, in freezing temperatures, at 2:30 in the morning, an undetermined distance (but, I figured, no more than a mile) away from my cottage, and the car was at an awkward incline and I wasn't completely confident it wasn't going to slide further. Since it's lake country up here, and it was pitch black, I was concerned sliding further might mean landing into a small body of water of some kind. I looked in my bag, rather flustered, and didn't see my wallet, either (I realized later it was in my jacket pocket, duh!), and so I didn't even have the number for AAA. Not that I relished the thought of waiting 45 minutes or more for a truck to come out to help.

So what did I do? I called Mom. Poor Mom, she's gotten so many calls from me over the years that I know cause her no end of worry. She didn't offer any new advice I hadn't considered already, but it was comforting to talk to her anyway.

I had a flashlight and an extra down vest to put over my long down coat, and Yak Trax to put over my boots to give me super grip against the snow and ice. By the time I was all suited up, I thought I would have no trouble walking the distance back home. I probably could have slept right there on the ice without freezing.

I left my hazards on knowing that my battery would be dead by morning, but figuring that wouldn't be a problem since I'd need roadside assistance to get the car winched out, anyway. And just as I was about to set out, a car finally came along the road. I wiggled my flashlight at him, he stopped, he kindly gave me a ride to the driveway to my subdivision, and I was in bed in no time. Knowing then that there was no way on Earth I'd make it to Archaeology if I wanted to sleep at all, I gave up on my hope of making it to class for once, didn't set an alarm, and had about seven hours of blessed, uninterrupted sleep in my bed.

When I got up at 10:30, I called AAA, and they ordered a towing service to come out. It took them about two hours to come, but they did, and the process of extraction and start-up was relatively painless. THEN, I had to get home and shovel out the big pile of snow so I would have a place to PUT the car. And I had a devil of a time getting it into the spot, because it was so snowy and icy, and the car just kept sliding around. By the time I got it parked, it had to be about 2:00. I came in and made chilaquiles, heated a little milk to drink with yesterday's coffee, sat and ate that and some leftover roasted broccoli while watching an old episode of Battlestar Galactica on the couch, and went back to bed until 4, because by then I felt so exhausted, I hardly knew what to do with myself.

I showered and dressed and came to campus after that, and basically started my day at 5:00. Man, what a waste. But I secretly kind of needed a day off, I think. Not exactly the way I would have spent it, all things being equal, but it wasn't too bad, in the end.

. . .

Now I'm sitting here, thinking about my paper on participation and Romani citizenship in East Central Europe. And pretty soon, I'll go meet a friend for a drink and maybe a bite at Leopold's. I'll have to catch up on Lost over streaming media.

In other news, the New York Times wrote an article about Hungarian Romani artists the other day.

HOORAY for Macedonian songs.

Dancing with Myself

So, my dear friends, I have a new mix I've just finished for some friends, called Dancing with Myself, with a few requests, lots of unexpected, silly, and creative covers, some French pop and bossa nova. Maybe it's not totally perfect and seamless in its transitions, but I'm calling it done and I'm ready to burn it for them. And just for fun, I'll share it with you too. [EDIT: Having added lots of details, I'm sending you to the annotated version of the playlist!]

It's got a much more upbeat tone than the breakup mix I just made for myself when I was moping around the cottage a week or so ago. I'll share that one too, shortly.

It was a fun and productive weekend, with lots of socializing as well as plenty of quiet time at the cottage. Friday was a quiet day of work on my FLAS (Foreign language and Area Studies) application to the Center for Russian and East European Studies and a brief meeting with a professor -- since our 101 lecture was canceled due to the heavy snowfall. I went to Kelly's going away party, since she's taking off to the field tomorrow.

I had had a super long day on Wednesday that started without power and ended with a class presentation I'd stayed up most of the night to finish preparing for. So Thursday, when I realized I was going to be outrageously late to Arc if I went, I stayed home and paid all my bills from my newly arrived paycheck, and worked on personal business and schoolwork until evening, when I went into Ann Arbor and went to watch the season premiere of "Lost" with Anneeth and her roommates. Anneeth and I went together to Hilary's going away party, since she's leaving the program. I spent the night with a friend in A2 because I was there late drinking, and was also expecting the storm.

After Kelly's shindig on Friday evening, which was an early get-together at Leopold Brother's, I came back home and collapsed into bed at 10 pm. When I woke up at 4:30 am on Saturday, though, I realized I just wasn't going to fall back asleep, so I got out of bed and got moving. I cleaned out my inbox (it had gotten back up into the 600 email range from being empty a week or so ago) and sent out a whole bunch of emails I had been neglecting. I cleaned my kitchen thoroughly, vacuumed all but my bedroom, and did laundry, even the shower curtain and hand washables and things I usually skip. I organized my whole life and schedule, made new lists for myself, and sorted out files that had been neglected for close to a year. I took a little nap, then started my reading for Kriszti's class. Then I took off for more partying. I went to Alice's place, where we drank her fabulous pomegranate martinis and ate her homemade biscotti, a crowd of us went off to Vinology, and then I meandered over to Anneeth's party with Erika. I made it back to the cottage finally at 3 am.

So I slept until 2:30 this afternoon. Today's been a slow, quiet day at home, with some more emailing, a little reading, and a big grocery shop at COSTCO and Busch's. I came home and made several liters of beautiful, rich stock, roasted a pound of asparagus, baked banana bread, and prepared a modified sort of tabbouli salad with tiny grape tomatoes, Italian parsley, red onion, feta cheese, a mix of whole wheat couscous and brown rice, lemon juice, and lots of salt, pepper, and olive oil. I'm getting creative and experimental to see how well I can eat on a tiny food budget. It's a good thing I really love brown rice with a little butter and soy sauce, because I think I'll be eating a fair amount of that. Today I added a Japanese topping that includes toasted sesame seeds, seaweed, and a few other ingredients. Mmmm. It inspired me then to make a simple soup of carrots, onion, garlic, broccoli, and red bean miso paste. Mmmm, again.

Well, it's going to be another busy week. I need to make some calls & emails to Budapest tomorrow and write and submit my application for summer departmental funding for pre-dissertation fieldwork in Hungary in July and August. I'm dreading writing out a budget more than anything else. And I have to plan for teaching on Tuesday and write a quiz for the students, and hold office hours. And John Creswell, Mr. Mixed Methods, is coming to give a methods workshop tomorrow, so I'll spend most of my day at Rackham doing that. Tom and I are collecting questions from the GSIs and making the Anthropology 101 exam this week. And I got a message from the head of my program asking if I'd present my work at a brown bag in Social Work on the 15th, so I need to start thinking about what aspect of my research I'm going to talk about, and get a presentation together. Never a dull moment, clearly.

There's something about the University of Michigan campus . . .

. . . that gives me a little gushy feeling in my heart sometimes. Like, oh my GOODNESS, THIS is where I go to school.