I think I have figured out why my fingers were going numb lately:



I spent most of my spring break in this exact position, completely absorbed by The Princes of Ireland. Yesterday afternoon I decided to finish the book, and noticed my fingers (which had been feeling more normal) started going numb again.

So for all you readers out there, take my advice: read a book in the most ergonomically-correct position, lest you start thinking you're having a stroke.

As far as drunk food goes, it probably isn't a good idea to get hooked on corned beef sandwiches for a midnight snack.

Just sayin'.

The pinky and the ring finger on my left hand have been numb for about a week.

Diagnosis?

I can't think of anything to write, and I'm pretty bored, so I'm reduced to taking one of these quizzes:

You're Watership Down!

by Richard Adams

Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're
actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their
assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they
build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd
be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Got the idea from this blog, which you should go check out. C is a 33-year old teacher from Glasgow who is currently riding a bike across much of Britain.

C is like the more intellectual Scottish version of me, only with stronger leg muscles.

And I've never even read Watership Down.

I think I have a little gnome that lives in my cupboards, and his job is to organize my plastic containers.

Because God knows I haven't bothered to do it. I don't know how they get that way.

For Bella, a self-portrait in 10 pictures:





















Here is Bella's Homework she assigned her loyal readers, and here is her original self-portrait (in 25 pictures no less, which is way better than mine.)

Dammit...

We just couldn't pull it off. Too many missed 3s and a tough defense by UNC.

No championship for Illinois this year.

You just can't win against the big dogs all the time. You can't expect the Red Sox and the Fighting Illini to win in the same year, can you?

Ehh. It was a great season, one of the best ever. Bruce Weber and the 5 starters (4 of which are actually from Illinois) were grand men this year. Thanks for a lot of great games.

At least the Cubs won today.

One sign that the world is not that bad of a place:

Sin City was #1 this weekend.

It kicks so much ass, people. Go see it.

Comic books kick ass, too. Me and The Chieftain used to read Sin City in college.

I hope he saw it this weekend as well, and remembered the countless hours we spent poring over that and The Sandman and Next Men and Madman comics when we should have been studying.



What a cool fucking movie.

Thank the Maker that people actually respect source material now. They could have fucked up X-Men, or Lord of the Rings, or even Spider-Man, but they didn't.

Bring on V for Vendetta, and someday, The Sandman.

Spring is here, and so is baseball...

Sammy Sosa is now an Oriole, the Washington Nationals are getting ready to play their first-ever game in DC, and the Red Sox open up the season tonight in Yankee Stadium.

And the Cubs already have two pitchers down for the count.

Some things change, but some things never change.

Let's hear it for green grass, open windows, and short sleeves.

Let's hear it for longer days and sweet evening coolness and the planning of summer vacations.

Let's celebrate the Fighting Illini playing for the national championship on Opening Day, and while we're at it, cheer on the Chicago Bulls, winners of nine in a row.

In the midst of all this talk of death and disease, feeding tubes and dead Popes and angry rants, let the coming of spring be a herald of better times to come.

Because something good has to happen soon.

The day started out quite wonderful. Slept late, ate a light breakfast of yogurt and an English muffin. Read the blogs and the paper, and had a third cup of coffee while delving deep into the epic tales of ancient Ireland.

Got some exercise and made ready to head west to Sandwich to meet Kristi (an old friend I've had for 25 [!] years.)

The phone call changed everything.

Mom. Bad news. A sickness in the family made worse. Questions. Uncertainty.

Information I won't bother going into here, but it's distressing and worrisome and world-changing, to say the least.

Kristi wasn't feeling well, but I ended up in Sandwich anyway, drinking beer and eating cheap tacos. A phone call from Eric and Jessica drove me to Naperville and Quigley's late at night to drink and have fun and forget about the news.

But the news is still there. A life suddenly changed forever, and all the lives that surround it changed as well. My thoughts constantly surrounding this sad turn of events.

If I believed in God I would ask for a cure or a treatment better than the disease itself.

But I don't belive in God, so there's no one to pray to or ask "why?"

There's just reality and the way you deal with it.

As long as I have some free time on my hands, I thought I would tell a story or two about where I live. I usually just refer to Chicago as my easy point of reference, but I'm not actually a city-dweller. I probably only make it into the city once a month, and the rest of the time I live in the western suburbs of the Windy City.

I live at the confluence of three cities: Oswego, Aurora, and Naperville. I work in one, have my official residence in another, and do most of my shopping and socializing in the third. I can drive five minutes in any direction from my home and be in one of the three.

Today I'll start with Naperville, partly because it's the most interesting out of the three, and partly because that's where I took pictures the other day.

Naperville has become known as the Uber-suburban-City lately, because of its stellar schools, its vibrant downtown shopping area, and its overall rich-white-people vibe. For me, though, Naperville is where my family came from.

Long before the shopping malls and McMansions and deluxe high schools, Naperville was a farming community, and the home of my ancestors for a hundred years or so. My mother, step-father, and many uncles and aunts and other relatives all graduated from Naperville Community High School.

In the late 1960s the farm was sold and the family moved westward. Naperville grew and grew and now it is home to over 130,000 people. It is true that many of them are white, upper-middle class professionals, and the word "Naperville" has become a synonym for "snooty, pretentious, or superior."

Some of that is true, but there is a lot to love about Naperville. It does indeed have a wonderful downtown, full of great bars and restaurants and a surprising mix of chain stores and independent-owned shops. For all the Eddie Bauers and Pottery Barns there is still an Anderson's Bookshop and Oswald Drugs.

Naperville is one of those cities that inspires both resentment and envy. It's the city that people would love to live in but would never admit it. The surrounding cities all feel like younger brothers and sisters that never seem to match the glorious achievements of the charmed oldest sibling.

For many, though, Naperville is a lifestyle that doesn't suit them. For many, Naperville is crowded and snobby and too expensive.


I'm ambivalent. I like its downtown and the connections my family has to the city. It has a great riverwalk and the schools are very impressive (although at my district we constantly get compared to Naperville's higher achievements.)

Walking through downtown the other day I was surprised at how small-town Naperville felt, even though it's one of the largest cities in Illinois (it ranks fourth behind Chicago, Aurora, and Rockford.) And I suppose that's what I do admire about it: its ability to be both modern and old, big and small, corporate and independent. It's not a perfect city, but it's not as bad as people think it is.

Books read since January first:

McCarthy's Bar, by Pete McCarthy;
Long Way Round, by Ewan MacGregor and Charley Boorman;
Letters, by J.R.R. Tolkien;
Notes from a Small Island, by Bill Bryson;
The Polysyllabic Spree, by Nick Hornby;
The Art of the Lord of the Rings by Gary Russell;

Currently reading: The Princes of Ireland, by Edward Rutherfurd; (will most likely get interrupted by Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell once I get my hands on it.)

Films watched this weekend:

Napoleon Dynamite
Donnie Darko
I Heart Huckabees

Travelogues, Tolkien-lit, and films about alienated high schoolers have been filling my time these days. I've had a bit of a reading renaissance lately. For a while I did nothing but read the newspaper and stuff online, but I've taken back my old love of books.

I Heart Buckabees was disappointing and forgettable. And I only watched Dynamite to figure out why everyone keeps talking about it.

I'm still trying to figure it out. Just didn't get it, folks. I mean, a couple of lines were funny, but what was the point?


Donnie Darko, on the other hand: why did it take me so long to watch that film? I could go on and on and on about it, about all the hidden meanings and what was up with Grandma Death and the Tangent Universe and the great Kevin Smith commentary on the DVD, but I'll save you my enthusiastic declarations of love. If you haven't seen it, check it out. It's a great movie to sit and watch and try and figure out. You might want to watch the original cut before the director's cut, though; I guess the new version spells everything out a bit more.

Why list in great detail what I've been reading and watching lately? I dunno. I've read a lot of good books lately and I thought I'd share the good news. I always like hearing what other people are reading, or what movies they like. Helps me understand them a bit better, rounds them out more.

And with that, I'm off to read. Good night, blogosphere.

A year ago I was here...



and here...



and here...



and I drank with them:



You can read about it here. If I get creative it'll look a lot better than it has for a year. A year ago I didn't know much about blogging or photo posting, so the travel blog looks a little primitive.

And once again I'll be strapping the pack on my back and heading overseas, where I hope to hang out with him, her, and her. And I plan on seeing Glen and Clare again as well.

And I will now shut up about Ireland. Thank you for reading this rather pointless post.

To all the Limelighters out there, especially my crew of actors, technicians, painters, parents, and friends:

I figure this is the best place to deliver this news, since I know many of you read this blog (a fact that I am rather ambivalent about, by the way. Not sure how all of you found this blog, and I'm not a 100% comfortable with it all, but at least you're all in high school or college. I don't need some junior high kid reading my rants and whinings.)

Anyway, I received the news yesterday that Romeo and Juliet won't be able to be performed at the new auditorium, due to the summer construction schedule. The good news, I suppose, is that Oklahoma, due to it's mid-July performance date, will get to use the stage. R & J has to remain at Bednarcik, however.

I can't deny that this is a great disappointment to me, and I am sure it is to you as well. We've tried to get the use of a proper stage for years, but due to many reasons (I don't need to tell the tale of my long negotiations with Mr. Barnes here) we just haven't lucked out when it comes to performance spaces. True, we needed to grow and mature and get to the point where we could put on a show to be really proud of, and I felt we hit that point two years ago with A Midsummer Night's Dream. My silly plays that I wrote certainly didn't need a state-of-the-art auditorium, but we amazed even ourselves with Midsummer, I think, and I was so looking forward to knocking everyone's socks off with this summer's adaptation of Romeo. Brian Brems and I (Brian, especially) have been working very hard on it, and it will still be a good show, just not quite what we imagined.

We could have a change of luck, or some other performance space might suddenly reveal itself to us, but as of now, we're stuck at the junior high.

I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm sorry. I know how badly you all wanted to be on the new stage. We have worked together for a long time, and have done some amazing things together. Performing Romeo and Juliet on that beautiful new stage, celebrating five years of hard work and happiness, it would have been a great and wonderful thing.

But the show must go on, and there is still a lot of work to be done. Stay positive, and perhaps something magical will happen before the curtain goes up in June. Things like that have a habit of happening in theatre.

Your Director,

Brian

It is the first day of my Spring Break, and it is fucking snowing.

This winter is never going to end.

The well has been pretty dry this week, blog-wise. I think it's the same all over. This must be International Take a Break From Blogging Week. I haven't written anything that insightful or useful; mostly just silly bits from work and life.

Speaking of, spring break starts today, and I am ready. I'm tired and stretched out and I want to just sleep all week and read books and get some exercise.

Heard from Glen today, a guy I hung out with a bit when I was in Ireland last year. Said he'd be happy to help me with job searches if I was serious about moving to Ireland. He's a land surveyor, though, so I don't know how helpful he'd be in finding information about teaching over there.

There is just nothing to write about right now...

The last thing I feel like talking about is politics and religion and a comatose woman. That kid getting arrested in the picture was trying to bring Terry Schiavo a glass of water, I guess. What a mess.

Meh. A couple of more hours and then I get to go have a few after-work beers with some fabulous babes and watch the Illinois game.

I kind of blew off talking about some other stories from the weekend, but in retrospect they were pretty boring. No one wants to hear about me getting rid of a couch. And I also refuse to talk about you-know-who down in Florida.

Instead I give you another snapshot from my laboratory/classroom, where this exchange was heard today.

Student 1: "What does it mean when Timothy says, "You are verrrry brown, and verrrry lean, Phil-eeep."

(Don't even think of going there, people. It ain't that kind of book.)

Student 2: "It means he was tan and skinny from being on the cay for so long."

Student 1: "Oh."

Student 3: "What, did you think he was a pork roast or something?"

I love my job sometimes...

I had to be the dream smasher today when at least two of my students came up to me and said, "Mr. Fauth, did you see that thing on dragons on Animal Planet?"

"No, I missed it. Was it good?"

"Yeah, they were really real!"

"Ummmm....you know that was all made-up, right?"

Silence for a bit. "Oh."

From one of the other kids: "SEEE, I told you so!"

Then I proceeded to tell them that there was no Santa, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, or God. But that there was a Satan, but he lived in California with all the other queers.

Ha ha!!! See, it's funny 'cuz it's not true! Comedy!

From ESPN.com:

Cubs' Borowski Out Six Weeks.

MESA, Ariz. -- Chicago Cubs reliever Joe Borowski will miss at least six weeks with a broken bone in his arm, another loss for a pitching staff already without Kerry Wood and Mark Prior.

Borowski sustained a non-displaced fracture in his right ulna when he was hit by a line drive in Monday's 12-5 loss to Kansas City. He's wearing a splint and will begin a throwing program when the healing process is complete, approximately six weeks.

Borowski, who missed the final four months of the 2004 season, won't likely see big league action until mid-May at the earliest.

The injury means the Cubs will have to scramble again to fill a hole on their pitching staff. They're already without their top two starters, Wood and Prior. Wood has bursitis in his shoulder, but was scheduled to throw a side session Tuesday and could pitch in a game later this week. Prior has inflammation in his elbow. He didn't have any soreness after throwing off a mound Sunday, and planned to throw again Tuesday.

With Borowski down, LaTroy Hawkins, who blew nine of 34 save opportunities last year, will be the top candidate to fill in. There's also an outside chance non-roster invitee Chad Fox could fill the spot.

The wire reports this morning said that cabaret singer Bobby Short had died.

I'm a big fan of the old standards (the Porter and Berlin and Gershwin tunes), and of the old singers, but I've only ever heard Bobby Short sing one song.

It was in the opening credits of Manhattan Murder Mystery, a Woody Allen comedy from the 90s. I fell in love with it immediately, and even managed to get a bootleg copy of the song.

"I Happen to Like New York." If you can ever find this recording, listen to it and savor it. I always feel like I'm sitting in some small club in Manhattan, wearing a tux, drinking a (natch) Manhattan.

A little tinkling piano starts, you hear the applause of the small crowd, and he begins.

I happen to like New York,
I happen to like this town...

I've never actually been to New York, strangely enough. I've been to so many other places, but never NYC.

I like to go to Battery Park...

When I think about it, I know more bloggers in Amsterdam than I do in New York (formerly New Netherland.)

And when I have to give the world
My last farewell,
And the undertaker starts
To ring my funeral bell,
Don't want to go to heaven,
Don't want to go to hell

I happen to like New York
I happen to love New York

He really belts out that last part, stretching out "looooooooooove" and "Yorrrrrrrrrrrrk" forever, and the crowd goes wild.

It's such a great song.