art class

I don't know what brought back this memory. In elementary school, I loved going to art class. It was a large room. I don't recall it having windows. I remember there were big tables covered in paper and arranged in a big U. In the back were shelves where supplies and in-progress projects were stored.

I remember a little girl getting mad at me because I noticed that she drew eyes as half circles. I thought that was a neat idea so I copied it.

I remember transforming a dish soap bottle into a woman. I must have made the head out of paper maché.

Classes were weekly. I don't remember going to them after the 3rd grade for some reason. We did art activities in our regular classrooms, I guess. I didn't take another art class until senior year of high school. I wish I hadn't waited so long.

And now I pay for the occasional art class. In a way, art class is all about finding new things to bring into practice. Practice is something I wish I did daily, but there is also work. Sadly I've never been that good at balance. Balance is never static anyway. Watch a tightrope walker and note how she never stops stops moving.

Just keep doing. Keep moving. Never retire.

Mile High City

There are times when I feel a little tug in my heart. I think it's the universe telling me it's time to visit the west coast. I've been wanting to visit Portland, OR forever. I may have a trip to CA in June or otherwise, maybe I can make it over in the fall. It's funny because I just got back from a conference in Denver, CO. Denver was surprising. I had no idea what sorts of people lived there or what the food was like.

Last year the conference was in Phoenix and visually the two cities look similar - high rises downtown, nice wide, clean, solidly gridded streets, surrounded by mountains on the periphery. The one thing Phoenix didn't seem to have was people. I would see folks headed to the baseball stadium in the afternoon and at Starbucks in the morning and that was pretty much it. The streets seemed strangely desolate, especially in the evening. I thought it might make a nice set for a superhero comic book. Others thought it suitable for a zombie movie. Denver, however, was teeming with people day and night particularly on the 16th St. mall which had a handy free bus. I don't particularly like crowds, but I recognize how important they can be to a city.

 Foodwise, the chefs of Denver are masters of comfort food. First of all there was macaroni & cheese and coleslaw everywhere. I had lunch at a diner near the hotel twice because it was so good. I want to go back and see how well they do pancakes. I have a feeling they would be awesome. Boon arranged a microbrew walking tour. I don't really drink beer all that often, but there were a couple that I actually liked (and one whose name I thought was a little too similar to a certain serial killer's nickname). I'm still laughing from when Katey was asked what her favorite beer was, she answered "Vodka!"

The best meal was at Euclid Hall, and actually it was the best meal I've had in a while. I had the chicken and sourdough waffles along with some grilled vegetables. Everything was perfectly cooked. Leah, who was sitting next to me, was kind enough to let me have a bite of her boudin. So amazing! I totally have to go back there.

I would say the only thing I didn't like about Denver was the dry air. I know some people had issues with the altitude, but I didn't really feel it. My skin, though, was not happy at all. I've never seen it so cracked and flaky, even in the hot Texas sun. I'm glad I'd brought some hand cream, but I really needed other reinforcements.

Besides the food, the other interesting part of Denver was outside of downtown. A small group of us made a bit of a pilgrimage to Plastic Chapel which is a nice little toy store. I'm not sure what the neighborhood was, but it reminded me of The Drag or South Lamar in Austin. Unfortunately it was raining (and then snowing) so we didn't really explore, but this is an area that totally warrants going back with a camera.

So a good trip westward and I'm looking forward to going even farther.

2 Quick Airport Bathroom Stories (not dirty!)

I flew to Philadelphia (on my way to some other state) last week and I can't remember which terminal we were in, but the women's bathroom near the baggage claim had gobs and gobs of free tampons!

I was in another bathroom before I flew back and there was an opaque glass wall receiving the full brunt of the late afternoon sun. It was so warm, but the glow was nice.

Yay Philly!

Young people of today, this makes me worry:

Funny, I was walking on the train platform to come home when this woman started talking to me and I realized I saw her when I was looking at an apartment recently (as chronicled in this recent post). She asked if I'd decided to take the apartment and I said no, it was too small. She mentioned that she heard what I'd said about my current place being noisy and she said hers was too. She actually owns her place but was thinking about moving back to her home state. She didn't want to say anything bad about the place in front of the realtor. It's a shame though, 'cause she seemed like she'd be a nice neighbor. I should have asked how big her place was.

I'm still undecided about what to do or where to look. I keep hearing good things about East Boston. There are a couple of places there that interest me, but I wish they were all a couple of hundred dollars less expensive. Lowell would be perfect if it weren't so far away...

changing seasons

Every day that I take the train to work I take a photo from the platform with my mobile phone. I always wonder if the people who see me do this wonder what the heck I'm doing.

customer service

I was going to write a customer service post mostly about the art of effective cashiering on my other blog, but I have a more pressing situation on a related topic here. When I moved into this apartment 2 and a half years ago I took a glance at the lights dangling from the 12 foot ceilings and asked how to I get my lightbulbs changed? Thinking am I going to have to buy a ladder? Fortunately, I was told that the building management would take care of it and the couple of times that I needed bulbs changed, they took care of it. Flashforward to today and 5 or six bulbs are out in the kitchen plus a couple of others. So I called the office and asked to get the bulbs changed. "Okay," the girl answered and started to hang up. "Wait," I stopped her. "Don't you want to know which ones need to be changed?" She giggled nervously and supposedly wrote down the information. She said she'd put in a work order. 2 days later, I come home from work and find this hanging from my doorknob:



I am immediately livid. If I indeed needed to provide my own bulbs, why didn't the girl on the phone say anything? I can't reach the lights, so I had no way of finding out on my own what kind of bulbs they are. So I called the next day and when I explained the situation (she seemed to not recall me calling 2 days before) and she says "Okay, hold on" and suddenly I'm taking to someone's voice mail and I haven't been called back. I called later in the day but I guess the office was closed. They aren't open on Saturdays. I guess that would be too convenient.

It's just so damn impressive how every single simple thing I ever ask for from these people is a total ordeal. Getting the screeching smoke detector battery changed took 4 phone calls, one of which she claimed that they didn't have permission to enter the apartment. Hint: permission is written into the lease.

So here's the thing: if you're going to be in a customer service position, then you have to proactively provide customer service. If you can not do that, you are just causing more problems and pain for people. Here is how this could have been executed properly: If residents are now required to provide their own light bulbs, how about issuing a notice that says residents are required to provide their own light bulbs and here is the kind you should get and here is where you can find them. I don't think it takes very much critical thinking skill to do this, but maybe I'm wrong.


Maybe I just need to get a ladder.

Is there a "how many mayo group employees does it take to screw in a lightbulb" joke in this?