architecture school destroyed my ability to feel confidence in anything I do and my general feeling of self-worth. it made me hate myself, or at least was the best medium for me to grasp the feeling of inadequacy. it gave me anxiety. i loved to make, but the fear of rejection paralyzed me to the point of self-sabotage. my voice was never good enough and I preferred to stay silent.
i don't know what i learned from architecture school
Crude cynicsm? pretentious prose? ignorant culinary masturbation? i do it all, and i do it using incorrect punctuation and bad grammar
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Biwa
strong alcohol in tiny cups can be very misleading, especially when you are easily charmed by things that are little. Sert and I went to Biwa for dinner before watching our friend's dance/music show down the street.
There was delight from the tiny little carafe, and then there was the tiny little cups!
We giggled as we played with our grown-up tea set, but instead of imaginary earl grey it was the sweet nectar of sake.
My sister and I have very blunt conversations with unabashed honesty.
"have you been tanning? you face looks great"
"Actually I am wearing a shit ton of make up, I am totally breaking out right now and had to cover it up"
The table of 40 somethings look over our table, mere inches away, and pretended to concentrate on their bowl of ramen while I knew they were listening to our conversation.
we started with a chicken heart skewer. I love different and chewy textures, so i really enjoyed this. the hearts were grilled with a teriyaki glaze and served with a hot mustard. It was nice and irony, and I wished we had three.
The octopus salad was standard and all tentacle curl, yay!
the clams were served in a sake broth, and was full of chilies, also delicious and i really wanted some nontraditional bread to sop the broth up. Sert and I (not so) politely slurped it up with a soup spoon.
Unfortunately we did not get the Ramen noodles they are famous for. Sert is gluten-free. I don't even wanna say what i think about that. just. no.
afterwards we watched a clown writhe underneath plastic and two boys strip nearly naked in a bunch of sweaty glory. It was a very interesting performance.
There was delight from the tiny little carafe, and then there was the tiny little cups!
We giggled as we played with our grown-up tea set, but instead of imaginary earl grey it was the sweet nectar of sake.
My sister and I have very blunt conversations with unabashed honesty.
"have you been tanning? you face looks great"
"Actually I am wearing a shit ton of make up, I am totally breaking out right now and had to cover it up"
The table of 40 somethings look over our table, mere inches away, and pretended to concentrate on their bowl of ramen while I knew they were listening to our conversation.
we started with a chicken heart skewer. I love different and chewy textures, so i really enjoyed this. the hearts were grilled with a teriyaki glaze and served with a hot mustard. It was nice and irony, and I wished we had three.
The octopus salad was standard and all tentacle curl, yay!
the clams were served in a sake broth, and was full of chilies, also delicious and i really wanted some nontraditional bread to sop the broth up. Sert and I (not so) politely slurped it up with a soup spoon.
Unfortunately we did not get the Ramen noodles they are famous for. Sert is gluten-free. I don't even wanna say what i think about that. just. no.
afterwards we watched a clown writhe underneath plastic and two boys strip nearly naked in a bunch of sweaty glory. It was a very interesting performance.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
A Milli
running a half-marathon in April so i get the excuse of eating a lot between running 20 plus miles a week. I seriously think I only started running to justify my ridiculous need to eat incredibly fatty foods.
This term I am taking a History of Jazz class, which just gave me more reason to eat and drink at night. So off to the Jimmy Mak's, portland's biggest jazz hub, we go.
Since conversations tend to get awkward and strained when my sibblings and I hang out with dad, I thought the distraction of live music would be a nice way to spend time together. It is not completely escapist, like a movie, yet not as stark and exposed like a silent dinner table. So my sister and I were able to avoid most of his piercing missiles. example:
"you look fatter than your sister"
"your sister looks fatter than you"
"you look like you are balding"
"what are you going to do with your worthless college degree"
Sert and I managed to escaped with a pleasant "both of you look like the same size, now"
hmm...
but before any awkward silences commenced, there was a "1-2-3-4" and the strings of a jazz guitar started plucking away. Only to be followed by 3 middle-aged men that looked like they were in various stages of coitus... for an hour and a half
This term I am taking a History of Jazz class, which just gave me more reason to eat and drink at night. So off to the Jimmy Mak's, portland's biggest jazz hub, we go.
Since conversations tend to get awkward and strained when my sibblings and I hang out with dad, I thought the distraction of live music would be a nice way to spend time together. It is not completely escapist, like a movie, yet not as stark and exposed like a silent dinner table. So my sister and I were able to avoid most of his piercing missiles. example:
"you look fatter than your sister"
"your sister looks fatter than you"
"you look like you are balding"
"what are you going to do with your worthless college degree"
Sert and I managed to escaped with a pleasant "both of you look like the same size, now"
hmm...
but before any awkward silences commenced, there was a "1-2-3-4" and the strings of a jazz guitar started plucking away. Only to be followed by 3 middle-aged men that looked like they were in various stages of coitus... for an hour and a half