Craigslist Microwave

A few years ago, I bought an iron from Craigslist. It was the easiest transaction ever. I walked a few blocks to the main street in my neighborhood, met a girl on the corner and gave her $15 in exchange for an iron wrapped in a brown paper bag, then we both went on our way. Must've looked like a drug deal, in retrospect. Now I was in need of a microwave. "Here's one on Craigslist in Mount Pleasant for $25. Done," I thought. "Easy as pie." What I didn't count on: it turned out to be a giant, unwieldy 1990s style microwave. The apartment turned out to be at the bottom of a giant hill. The temperature turned out to be 90 degrees, all humidity. I was half way up the hill before I had to put the microwave down on an electrical box and take a short breather. It was then I realized that of my many bad ideas, this was a particularly bad one. At first I took 15 steps and then took a break, resting the microwave on a stoop, bike rack or building window sill. Then it was 10 steps. Then it was 8 steps. Then it was 5 steps. The breaks kept getting longer. Sweat loosened my grip on the microwave and made my glasses slip off my nose. My arms are hurting just typing this out. It had to look like the definition of a fool's errand. I'm sure I looked quite silly, which is not a new look for me. Of the many people I passed, three offered to help and curiously enough, all of them were women. Two of them were AARP card holders. It was very sweet of all them to offer to help, but I didn't want them to throw their backs out. "I can do this," I thought when I was two blocks away, two blocks that seemed to stretch on for miles. But with shaky arms, I wondered, could I really do this? For some reason, the thought of abandoning the microwave never even crossed my mind. Then, deus ex machina, a man getting off the bus volunteered to carry the microwave the remaining two blocks. Probably instantly regretted it. But cheers to you, Good Samaritan! Cheers to Good Samaritans of both genders! And when I finally got the microwave settled in the kitchen and plugged it in, the dang thing worked. Cheers to Craigslist too, I guess.

Tunes Tuesday: Lollapalooza Edition

The third and final day of the 20th anniversary of Lollapalooza - we were there, wallowing in the mud with 90,000 other music fans. Right before my personal favorite Arctic Monkeys took the stage, the sky opened up with a thunderstorm that was downright Biblical. We were more prepared than most. As soon as the drizzle started, I scrambled to poke a hole in the top of a Hefty garbage bag - the engineer's raincoat. You know what? Combined with an umbrella, it did the job. The girls who had on crop tops and rompers without fancy trashbag raincoats looked pretty miserable.

You gotta love the setlist Arctic Monkeys picked out when they finally took the stage after the rain: Brianstorm, She's Thunderstorms, and Crying Lightning. Who knew they had so many weather-related songs?

Joe's photo of the rainbow during Arctic Monkeys' set

But by then, our great spot in front of the stage had turned into an island in the muck. Flip flops and broken sandals were stuck in the mud, abandoned by their owners. What a mess. These pictures are an accurate depiction of conditions.

We thought the storm was behind us, but the clouds darkened, and just as Dangermau5 Deadmau5 took the stage it started pouring again. Instead of scrambling for an umbrella, the crowd started sprinting toward the stage and dancing in the rain. I thought poor Dangermau5 Deadmau5 might get electrocuted. Luckily not. Instead, it was a great Lollapalooza moment and that's why I've chosen this homemade video as this week's Tunes Tuesday. I was not as brave about iPhone video shooting in the rain.

PS - The Joy Formidable rocked really hard, go see them if you get the chance!

Urban Farming Fail

Remember my tomato plant experiment? All summer long, I watched as a tiny green bud on the non-cherry tomato plant grew a little larger, a little larger, than stopped growing altogether and just sat on the vine for weeks. Finally it started to turn red and ripe for the picking.


My yield thus far! One plum-sized tomato. Plum-size might be a generous description, it was a wee little tomato.

I was so proud and happy as i deposited it in the fruit/veggie basket on my counter. I then promptly went on vacation for the weekend. "I'll eat you when I return," I thought.

But it was not to be...

"N000000000000000000000000....[pause for breath] 00000000000oooo."

That's what I found when I got back. Just so you can get this straight - I watched that little tomato grow every day for 2 months give or take, and then when the moment was right, I bobbled!

Maybe I'll get another chance. You all were right, I needed a larger container. But I have managed to keep them alive thus far, knock on wood.

Tunes Tuesday: "Rough Gem," Islands

This song was playing over the weekend on a restaurant soundtrack, and I knew that it was in my iTunes with a playcount over 20, but who was the band? Why couldn't I remember that? And why do I so often jam out to restaurant and grocery store soundtracks? I refused to be ashamed of said jamming out, though.

I remember midway through the song, it's Islands, of course! Circa 2006. The name might've escaped me, but I didn't forget the melody. Take a melody that's in-your-face peppy, then add woodwinds, strings, handclaps and slide whistles and I'm sold. "Instant happiness," as one YouTube commenter said.

I Don't Know How to Quit You, Diet Coke

Last month, I once again tried to give up diet soda and artificial sweeteners altogether. And it stuck for the longest amount of time yet - a month. Previously I couldn't make it a week. Diet Coke is my raison d'être so a month felt like a long time. But it felt good. I felt virtuous.

A few weeks ago, I fell off the wagon and I'm back at the vending machine. You know what happened?

I was walking in my old neighborhood and I saw a group of nuns returning from the grocery store. One of the nuns was carrying a crate of Diet Coke. Fading sunlight glinted on the familiar silver box as she crossed the street. And I thought to myself:

"This woman has given up the majority of the pleasures in this world, and even so, she has allowed herself to enjoy Diet Coke. Why are you depriving yourself?"

I'm back to one can a day. Ok, maybe two.