(no subject)

Oh my GOD.

Let me tell you about my evening! Even though it will be morning when I post, again.

So, tonight (last night, if you prefer) was free-admission night at the museum, and I went to see the sights and do some sketching and meet a few old friends. Man, I am so out of practice, my drawings SUCK. And while I did find a few old friends -- most notably, Sunday on the Island of La Grande Jatte and The Night Hawks -- I missed the one I really wanted to see, Ganesh.

Four years ago I came to Chicago to "audition" for scenic design grad schools, as per U/RTA custom. The day before the interviews, I went to the Art Institute of Chicago Museum and happened to come face to face, quite suddenly, with a large statue of Ganesh. Up until this point my exposure to Indian religions had been confined to Kipling and one book of my mother's called "The Jataka Tales". Reading the placard, I found that Ganesh was the god of new beginnings and new enterprises, and liked sweets, so I promised him a pack of M&Ms offered ritually if he would help me out with interviews. I got twelve interviews, the most of any student applying, thus cementing my faith in him. (And yes, he got his M&Ms :D).

Anyway, this time I couldn't find Ganesh; I guess he's been taken down, or moved to some other part of the museum that I didn't get to peer into.

What I did find was the Cafe -- you know how museums are, they usually have one cafeteria-style place for "cheap" eats and a really upscale nice cafe for people who are willing to pay twelve dollars for a salad. Tonight it was outside in the courtyard, under a slightly overcast sky and with live jazz playing in one corner.

Now, for the entire three months I was informally studying art at the Boston MFA, I yearned to be one of the Beautiful People and eat in the overpriced cafe. It's probably a class thing, I don't know, but I never got to because I had no money to spare. Most days I brought a peanut butter sandwich and split it with the robins. Anyway, tonight I thought, why not? For once in my life I have a bit of spare spending cash.

I think it's wise to treat any new situation where you're unfamiliar with the rules as if it were an alien world. The key to survival, however, is really to treat it as if it were an alien world which you have conquered and are graciously deigning to visit as part of a goodwill tour of your empire. It works, too. I got a seat near the band but not so near I would go deaf; I was sitting at a small table next to the fountain, so I did spend some little time being careful not to drop my silverware in. I ordered a nice California merlot (which, I know nothing about wines, so I picked one with a fun name, "Red Rock") and a waiter brought me a serving of bread and butter. The butter was in a perfect circular disc, and had herbs on top. My foodie soul approves.

The menu was sort of gourmet-picnic in design; they had barbecue pork, burgers, crab cakes, and steaks, but all with a very fancy twist. I actually had their version of macaroni and cheese, which was fresh noodles in a gruyere and mozzarella cheese sauce with grated truffle on top. It was....amazing.

I was kind of amused at myself, really; when the people one table over were looking at me strangely, I assumed it had something to do with being the only person wearing jeans in the entire courtyard. Turns out they thought my mac and cheese looked REALLY GOOD, and three of the six ended up ordering it.

I even treated myself to dessert, passionfruit sorbet in a martini glass. It was delicious, if a little on the acidic side and not quite the palate-cleanser I'd hoped it would be. When I got up to go, one of the women at another table actually stopped me and asked if I had enjoyed it, because her husband was thinking of having it. I gave her the lowdown and she looked at me and said "Wow, you're really informed!" which was rather nice.

All in all, a splendid evening, if rather more expensive than I had anticipated. Worth it, though I believe I've satisfied the yen to eat with the millionaires for a while. :D

And, the best news of all, I have a few more apartment meetings lined up, including one at an artist's colony of some kind. Wish me luck!

(no subject)

Well, that was a wash. I never even got to look at the granville-stop apartment -- the manager had overscheduled and then forgot about me, so after an hour and fifteen minutes I left the office to find him chatting amiably over smokes with two other tenants. Fortunately he didn't see me leave. Overbooking I will tolerate; incompetence I will not. He also hadn't contacted me to inform me that he'd rented the apartments I wanted to look at, so I was in essence waiting (and being forgotten) for an apartment in some other building about which I knew nothing. I am understandably still irate about this.

Then the Communists called to say they'd rented their room. So, I officially stamp this expedition a failure, not like that's anything new. A fun failure, of course, good time had by all, but a failure nonetheless. Eh, story of my life.