There's No Business Like Snow Business

For those of you who haven't heard, Chicago had an insane snowstorm Tuesday night. It was awesome. I even got my first experience of thundersnow, which is not only a real thing but also a cool band name. We got somewhere around 18 inches of snow, and lots of people had work canceled (including me). So what do "adults" do when they get snow days? Start off with a killer breakfast of bacon egg and cheese bagel sandwich, of course:

Follow that up with watching cartoons, cleaning the house, organizing my room, and then celebrating Will's birthday the best way possible: with enormous delicious burgers and beers at Kuma's Corner!

That place is heaven on earth, no joke. Totally worth trekking through the feet of unshoveled snow. And what do I find upon my return home but a dead cat on my bed?

Ok, he wasn't dead. He just looked like it. For some reason he loves sleeping on my bed, and I couldn't be happier. But before this whole blizzard business I had a wonderful time with Charlie and Jeanne, eating oysters and other sea creatures at Shaw's Crab House/Raw Bar, and filling my belly with all things Greek at Santorini's. I've been fortunate enough to see some cool art, hear some killer music around town, sample some fantastic karaoke, and eat great food all over the place. What a city. If only I had friends to share it with...
Bookwise I finished Listen to This by Alex Ross, a collection of some great articles about all kinds of music. My favorite thing about him is that he treats all styles of music with equal reverence, and I completely agree. He draws comparisons across hundreds of years, never condescending or implying that older is better than newer or vice versa, or that an orchestra is better than a rock quartet or a jazz band or a poet with a guitar, etc. As Alban Berg famously said to George Gershwin, "Music is music" (This oft-used quote is also in Ross' phenomenal book the Rest is Noise).
I read a book about Bach's Cello Suites by Eric Siblin, intertwining a history of the composer and his manuscripts after his death, as well as Pablo Casals' discovery of them and role in bringing them back into the public spotlight, and for some reason the author's attempts at finding the original copy and trying to play them on his own. A little boring and reverential at times, but overall interesting.
Next came Slapstick, another Vonnegut book about a strange future. Not as good as his other works, but as always, enjoyable. I finally read Goodbye Columbus by Philip Roth, as well as the short stories that accompany it. Loved his detailed descriptions of life, the city, love, family, and of course, religion. Now I am in the middle of Look at the Birdie, another posthumous collection of Vonnegut stories. So far they're top notch. There was a time when I couldn't read short stories, something about the starting and stopping and always trying to get back into it, but recently they've been quite rewarding.
I apologize if my post-Patriots loss post went a little too far, I often overcompensate when I feel like punching my computer screen and try to convince myself it wasn't a big deal. All I can say is it felt so good to see the Steelers destroy those little snots. I don't know why we're supposed to hate the Steelers, they're a good team that focuses on defense, and they earned their Super Bowl trophies. Still, I hope Green Bay wins. Of course the Celtics are proving that teamwork is more important than age, and spring training is just around the corner!
Lastly, here's a quote I came up with:
"The stupidest thing you can do is to be content being stupid"
-Adam

Well that was fast

Goodbye Patriots. Once again our Boston heroes blew it. I'm just glad I'm in Chicago, away from all the negative writers and Debbie-Downers that control Boston. It was a great season, a lot of memorable games that were truly enjoyable. The Jets played better today, and that sucks. That's all there is to it. We had our chance. I'm just glad that the Steelers will beat them next week, and hopefully the Bears or Packers will go on to win the Superbowl. The Celtics are doing good things, and the Red Sox look to be stupid good next season.
But this loss had me thinking about the big picture, and the roller coaster ride that is Boston Sports. Let's just remember all the highs, like the Patriots' three Super Bowl rings, the Red Sox' miraculous run in 2004 and slightly less-awesome World Series title in 2007. And of course the Celtics' return to prominence culminating in a championship over the Lakers in 2008. All of those teams were amazing, and truly inspired all of Boston, not to mention all of New England.
But with every great victory there comes great tragedy, that's just a part of the game. Unless you want to be the Pittsburgh Pirates and lose every year (sorry Dad), the price you pay by having a great team and high expectations is you're also going to have some epic losses. We can start with the worst of the worst, '03 to the Yankees. Close second would be losing to the Giants in the Super Bowl, and third is losing to the Lakers in last year's Finals. I'd say fourth would be losing to the Colts in '07, followed in no particular order by losing to the Jets, Rays, Ravens, Magic, Angels, Broncos, and just for fun, Flyers (there's your one hockey reference). The timeless question is: do the victories make the heartbreaking losses worth it? And of course the answer is yes. Luckily we can block out some of those losses (I mean who really cares about the Broncos anyway). But some of our teams that lost in the postseason had incredible years, which of course are forgotten since they weren't #1. What's wrong with being #2, or #3? If Boston were in the Olympics, we'd have a ton of medals, some gold, more silver and bronze. And of course we'd display them all prominently, because they're awesome, and they show how much hard work we put into our teams. I apologize for this rant, but having a good team that makes it to the postseason should be reason enough to be a proud New Englander. Just be thankful you don't live in Cleveland.
And now, here are some things to take your minds off sports until the baseball season and NBA playoffs start:
First, this from Saturday Night Live.
Or, if you'd rather just mope, here's one of my favorite songs/scenes from a beautiful French movie called Cleo from 5 to 7.
And...here's a puppy I get to hang out with!

So what does New York have that Boston doesn't? Other than trains that run past midnight? We started a little thing called the American Revolution, have you heard of it? And maybe you've eaten some of our clam chowder. And had some of Samuel Adams' beer, yeah that's right, it's delicious. And...I guess some people enjoy Aerosmith and Matt Damon. But I think we can all agree the only good things ever to come out of New York are the Velvet Underground, the Strokes, and Manny Ramirez. Who's with me?

Here's to a New Year of Stuff and Things!

Now that the holidays are over I can finally take a deep breath and contemplate the tornado that has just swept through. In early December my former roommates Nate & Elf treated me to a Chicago Symphony performance of Schoenberg's Transfigured Night, truly one of the most beautiful pieces ever written. It was so good I had to see it again the next night! (You should know by now that I am not one to turn down free tickets, let alone free tickets to one of my favorite pieces played by America's best orchestra) A gorgeous late-romantic piece for strings, filled with enough drama and heartbreak to last a lifetime. Now I just need to see Wagner's Tristan und Isolde and I'll die a happy man.
The week after a group of us saw The Mikado by Gilbert & Sullivan, another fabulous work that's been flowing through my brain since as long as I can remember.
The second weekend of December brought the insane feat of saying goodbye to the house I grew up in. It was great, having a garage sale on our first floor, practically giving everything away to support Gabe's favorite charity Aid El Salvador. Once everything was gone (including my first guitar and my awesome collection of action figures) we had a wonderful potluck dinner with friends and neighbors and kids and anyone else who wanted some good food, drinks and company. Toasts were made, memories were shared, tears were shed, but it really was the perfect farewell. The weirdest part will be next time I'm back in Boston and not returning to 11 Robeson Street. Ah well, the nice thing is knowing that a new family will take our place and their kids will be running around where we used to. Hopefully on nicer floors and never in that terrifying basement.
Back in Chicago everything was leading up to the Christmas explosion! Like last year I decided to stay in town to make the big bucks, and it didn't disappoint. Luckily I had other friends who were hanging around so on Christmas Eve I was able to enjoy some excellent food and karaoke with Ross, his girlfriend Lindsey and her whole clan. And then on Christmas Day of course I celebrated like all should by enjoying some delicious sushi with my Jewish buddies.
Seriously though, I saw so many cats and dogs over the holidays that I barely had any time to think, and once things briefly calmed down we immediately had thousands of friends staying over for New Years. It was great having so many visitors, several Butlerites made the trek, and we surely didn't disappoint. And then there were the Three Musketeers: Gabe, Lauren and Jimbo. I took them to the Salvadoran restaurant a couple blocks away and they got to talking to the waitress, it was like I was back in that beautiful country, not comfortable enough with my Spanish to start a conversation but always ready to nod and laugh at the appropriate times. Everyone came for our New Years bash, which centered around my newest batch of beer (a Russian Imperial Stout which blew me away as well as the top of its bucket due to overheating) and a performance by some band called Bricklayers Foundation. Actually it was tons of fun, we played really well, and we received no noise complaints so I'd say it was a great success.
In terms of reading I enjoyed Alex Ross' Listen To This, a collection of articles about all sorts of music and musicians. Not quite as good as The Rest Is Noise but still fascinating. Next was The Given Day by Dennis Lehane, an epic story about Boston around 1918, dealing with everything from the flu to racism to corruption and the Police Strike. Gritty, exciting, historically fictional, I highly recommend it. I mean, bringing in Babe Ruth every now and again obviously sucked me in.
Lastly I read A Clockwork Orange, similar to American Psycho in its graphic description of violence and lack of any iota of morality. Great book, hard to get through the futuristic dialect but still top-notch stuff. I even got to read the 21st chapter which was cut out of American publications (and thus the Kubrick movie based off of it).
And if you have the chance, watch (Untitled), a brilliantly funny movie about modern art and music and all the nonsense that goes with it. My apologies for the lack of pictures, I promise I have some cute puppy pics but for some reason they're being difficult. Lastly, go Pats!

What a wild ride it's been

My apologies for the delay, but man oh man it's been a crazy couple months. Let's dive right into it:
The calypso gig we did was just like last year, playing for several hours outdoors for a youth soccer tournament. Pretty sweet getting paid to jam with some old steel drummers, not to mention the free snacks we got.
The day after that my buddies and I went to Six Flags Great America, which predictably blew my mind. Much like the park in New Jersey, this place was HUGE. Tons of cool rides, plenty of massive roller coasters with a nice variety. They had the old wooden guys which shake you to the core, as well as the flashy newer models which go higher and faster than anything humans should ever do. To me, the scariest coasters are the ones that tilt you down and make you stare at the ground, like Superman, mostly because during the slow ascent I cannot stop thinking about falling out. Still, American Eagle is an amazing wooden coaster, and Raging Bull is your classic out-of-this-world ride.
And what should come two weeks after that awesome trip but our house's Halloween Party. I had two batches of beer ready, the IPA (so good I almost cried) and the American Amber Ale (sadly I didn't have the time/confidence to add pumpkin to it, but delicious nonetheless). My roommates and I set up the apartment and a great crowd stopped by. Needless to say, our costumes were of the highest quality. Some of the best would be Riccardo Muti (conductor of the Chicago Symphony), a Roller Derby team, Bob Ross, a Publishers Clearing House enormous-check-giver and receiver, and then me: Ace Ventura as he sneaks into the mental institute. Special thanks go to Anna for sewing me the tutu, it really made the costume.

Dance party in the basement, Paul Bunyan chopping wood in the street, and my beer thoroughly satisfying the thirst of people I had and hadn't met before, all in all it rocked.
For my actual birthday Anna and I grabbed some fantastic tapas (only to be challenged by our homemade tapas, but we'll get to that later), followed by a concert by Oh No Oh My, a band that came to Bowdoin in 2006 and even partied with us after the show. Their first album was very nice, and their new stuff was just as good. The week after a group of us saw Benjamin Britten's opera A Midsummer Night's Dream, that was lots of fun with very cool visuals.
Our Butler buddy Max came to visit, and he even brought his accordion. What a guy. We took him around our hood to some of our favorite food and drink spots, talked about music, and basically had an awesome time.
Now we come to the crux of this post: Thanksgiving in Arizona. For those of you who weren't aware, in 2004 my family spent this holiday week in Maui. Swimming, snorkeling, hiking, eating like a king, it was great. Now I've got this little niece, and my stepbrothers have two kids apiece, so we decided to find a cheaper and more convenient spot. Tuscon won the bid, and then we found this mansion for rent which sounded too good to be true. Considering there were 10 adults and 5 little ones, it just made sense, but man oh man this place was nuts. Amazing house, pool and jacuzzi, outdoor grill and patio, massive tv, secret room behind a bookshelf, enormous living room and solarium, and...a grand piano. I couldn't believe it. Plus the landscape was like nothing I had ever seen before, it really did feel like an alien planet. My apologies for the quality of my pictures, I'll try to post better ones soon enough.

And the sunsets were too good to be true.

We had this nice dinner tradition of divvying up each night to two people, so for our night Gabe and I did what we know best: tapas. Well, he did most of it. There was steak, grilled eggplant, bruschetta, prosciutto with melon, homemade sangria, and my pièce de résistance: tortilla de patata, also known as potato omelet. We ate these all the time in Barcelona, and they were always one of my favorites. I was pretty nervous, but it turned out perfect. Gotta try that at home more often.

But seriously, the quality of the food all week was too high to describe with words. The thanksgiving feast itself was beyond compare, as usual I whipped up my broccoli casserole which is paralyzingly scrumptious. Watching football, eating buffalo chicken dip (another Adam contribution), going on hikes, checking out the desert museum, and getting to play with all of these tiny nieces and nephews, it was too good to be true. In summary, check out these cute little guys!

I couldn't fit everything in here, it was just an amazing week, so bear with me if I add more in future posts.
As for books, Pugilist at Rest was fantastic. I read American Psycho, easily one of the most gruesome books every written. If you're not familiar, it is Bret Easton Ellis' story of a rich, young New Yorker who parties and dines and shops and exercises at only the best places with his fellow yuppies, but he also has this hidden, surreal side of murder and horrific torture. After that I read Pandora's Seed by Spencer Wells, all about the hidden consequences of our shift from hunters to cultivators. He talks about everything from our genetics, to diseases and mental illness, relating it all back to our decision to control our surroundings instead of letting them control us. A little scattershot, and I was hoping there would be more of a final message or suggestion of hope, but hey, still great.
The Cellist of Sarajevo was fascinating, a fictional story about people surviving during the Siege of Sarajevo. It's based on a real cellist who, once a day for 22 days, played in the rubble of an explosion which killed 22 people waiting in line for bread.
I finished Sonny Liston Was a Friend of Mine, another collection of stories by Thom Jones. Once again, it floored me. His stories are sometimes heartbreaking, other times uplifting and even hilarious. Whether they're about Vietnam, boxing, drinking, or mental illness, I never finish one of his stories without sitting back and just marveling at his uniqueness.
Well, that about sums it up. I'm heading back to Boston for the weekend of December 10-12 to say goodbye to the house I grew up in, should be as bittersweet as ever. I don't think it's really set in yet, but what better way to bid farewell to that place than to have the three F's: friends, family and food.
As for the Patriots, ever since I witnessed their assault on Miami a month and a half ago I have been keeping close tabs. Love this team. By no means are we perfect, but we're a solid, exciting group of guys that I enjoy watching. The Celtics are still doing their thing as expected, which means I just have to sit here and wait for the playoffs. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

More of the goodness

Things continue to be awesome, who would've thought. The apartment is still perfect, and here's the proof: a few weeks ago I made another batch of home-made beer (my 4th overall if you've been keeping score). Just to refresh your memory, my first batch was an Oktoberfest, which was fine. Nothing special. I blame it on my first time jitters. Second beer was a red ale, which was too good to be true. Delicious and strong at the same time. Third batch was a stout, dark like outer space. More potent than the red ale, definitely more of an acquired taste, still delicious but not quite as accessible. This time around I was more adventurous, going with an IPA. Slightly more difficult to make, but oh man. We popped open a bottle last night and I almost cried it was so good. The hard part will be saving it for our Halloween party. And to top it off, today I brewed an American Amber Ale which will be ready right on...you guessed it, Halloween. And if you're thinking to yourself, "Adam, come on, an amber ale? BORING!" To this I say, "Ah, but what if we were to add something to it...something, like, I don't know, PUMPKIN?!?!" That's right, the guy at the home-brew store suggested adding pumpkin and spices to it right before we bottle it, so I took the challenge. I've never felt to alive!
So yeah, Chicago continues to rock. We got to see the International Contemporary Ensemble play at a museum downtown, amazing stuff. My roommates and I got a Costco membership so now I can eat a platoon's worth of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in one day. We watched Roadhouse, a fantastic Patrick Swayze action movie which I highly recommend. The big event though was a free concert in Millennium Park of the Chicago Symphony playing some classics, conducted by none other than Riccardo Muti! Check it out:

Seriously, all of Chicago was out on that lawn. The concert rocked, the crowd loved it, and they ended with fireworks! Unreal. All this for the new conductor of the symphony. I wish I could compare it to Boston when we signed Curt Schilling, but I seriously can't.

That rocked. Unfortunately he got sick and is missing some concerts this fall but hey, I probably wasn't going to any of those anyway. That's life.
Will and I also got to see the Chicago Civic orchestra play some amazing stuff, Betsy got us free tickets and we composers do not turn down free concerts of that caliber. I went to a Cubs game with Ross, which was a blast despite the rain delay and loss to the Giants by the final score of 1-0. I saw a concert by a pretty cool band called Walter Meego, and took care of some crazy little doggies:

We've eaten some great local food, continued the barbecues, and we made it to the Museum of Contemporary Art for an exhibit on Alexander Calder which was fascinating. And our calypso band has a gig next weekend, woohoo!
I read Pygmy, another strange one by Chuck Palahniuk. This one was from the perspective of a foreign exchange student living in the Midwest who is secretly a spy sent to destroy us. Nice take on American culture, brutally graphic and hilarious as always.
After that I read Franny & Zooey, which I really liked. Then I finally read Fight Club, although I must admit I kind of preferred the movie. I know, I know, I'm sorry. Great book, but even better movie as far as I'm concerned.
Next was Just Kids, an autobiography of Patti Smith detailing her youth and relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe. Very cool stuff, loved hearing about the artists' life in the 60s and 70s. Next up was another one by Bret Easton Ellis, Lunar Park. Unlike his other works, this was a thriller/sci-fi kind of thing. Parts were amazing, especially the faux-autobiographical sections, but overall it didn't wow me like his other stuff. And lastly, I read Sherman Alexie's Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. I didn't realize it was a young adult book when I got it from the library, but as usual he's amazing at combining the humor with the heartbreak. And I just started Thom Jones' collection of short stories called Pugilist at Rest. So far, on par with Cold Snap. Love it.
And that wraps it up! My apologies to the Red Sox, another good year as far as I'm concerned. And come on, Tampa Bay is clearly going to lose their best players in the offseason and suck next year so I guarantee a playoff spot for us. Watching the Pats last Monday night was one of the most fun games I've ever watched. And the Celtics are getting ready for another long season, I am truly excited.

Has it really been a year?

It blows my mind to think that I moved to Chicago a little over a year ago. It's been an amazing year, probably in some part due to the fact that my two previous years were in Indianapolis. Anyways, all the friends, music, visitors, food, art, etc. has proven Chicago to be a great fit. I've also been racking my brain for some way to "celebrate" a whole year of adamidwest, so I decided to list some of my favorite things this past year has shown me. Not all were created in the past year, but let's say I discovered them since I moved here.
First off, favorite book: I had a lot of choices, I actually counted 47 books on my running list since I moved here. But if I had to choose only one, I'd go with Farewell to Arms. Such a great mixture of adventure, romance, traveling, and heartbreak, blended with Hemingway's incomparable style. At the same time, I read so many other great books that I just want to list them all. Alas, we must move on.
Favorite movie: the Room. Released in 2003, this movie is so bad (and I mean AWFUL) that it's fun to watch. Terrible script, atrocious acting, plot-holes left and right, unnecessary dubbing, the list goes on and on. It was written, directed, produced, and executive-produced by Tommy Wiseau, who happened to have the lead role. It's hilariously putrid, so if you have a chance, watch it. You will be disappointed. Runners-up: Armed and Dangerous, and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.
Favorite food: close call, but I stick with Flub a Dub Chubs. Perfect burgers, dogs, and fries, usually has a Cubs game on TV, right below a bar, and I've never had to wait in a line. Close second: Kuma's corner. Possibly better selection of burgers, nice beer selection, but there's always a long line and they only play death metal. Tough decision, but I stick with the Flub.
Favorite Album: this is another tough one, since nothing totally blew me away. I'll go with Boxer, by the National. Something about the cool, dark music plus the lead singer's deep, deep voice is the perfect combination. Nice mix of slow jams with some up-tempo hits too. Runner-up: the Suburbs by Arcade Fire.
Favorite Song: another tough call. I'll go with 11th Dimension by Julian Casablancas. Runners-up: Crystalised by the xx (for the record, I chose this song before I realized they don't have a real drummer) and Zebra by Beach House. Once again, something about that deep voice kills me. Wonder what Freud would say about that?
Favorite Concert: I'm gonna go with seeing the Quartet for the End of Time at our old rehearsal space. Such a phenomenal piece of music, played extremely well, in an intimate atmosphere. Runner-up: seeing the CSO play Beethoven 7 (they lost points for starting the concert with Beethoven 1).
Favorite spot in Chicago: this is a strange category I just came up with. Being on the glass balconies at the Willis Tower is pretty cool, but I'm leaning towards this one little spot as you walk under Lake Shore Drive. The acoustics and lighting always remind me of being in an aquarium, as if penguins were by your side. It's hard to explain, but I'll take you there next time you visit.
Now, I probably forgot some good ones, and I apologize. To make up for any mistakes, here are some puppies I walk:
This is Lexi, a new labradoodle.

And here's this wonderful dog I only got to walk for one day, but guess what his name is? Adam C! No joke. I've always wanted to say "Adam, stop licking yourself!" and "Adam, don't sniff her butt! Inappropriate!!"

Lastly, if there were an award for cutest puppies, they'd win in a heartbeat. I believe they're half poodle/half cocker spaniel. Get ready:

Yup, this is my life. They're named Toby and Charlie. And I could probably fit one in each of my pockets.
So yeah, Chicago is great. If I think of any other good awards or things that should have been nominated, I'll let you know.
As for my reading, Homage to Catalonia was intense. Gives me a whole new perspective on Barcelona and the Spanish Civil War that I never even imagined. After that I read Brave New World for the first time since 9th grade or something, brilliant stuff. Then I went for Palahniuk's newest offering, Tell All. Interesting take on fame and aging stars who date younger men, as always very dark and graphic. Next was Less Than Zero, Bret Easton Ellis' take on a college freshman coming home for winter break and all of the crazy (and I mean crazy) shit he and his LA friends get into. Love that guy's style, barely any emotion whatsoever, almost like it's narrated by a robot. And on dad's recommendation, I tried Cold Snap by Thom Jones. Great collection of short stories, dealing with everything from Peace Corps to drug addiction to boxing to mental health to sex to suicide. Both humorous and depressing at the same time, really great stuff.
Ok, time to wrap this mega-post up. Work is good, weather is good, friends are great, everything is superb. I've been able to sample some improv comedy, some free-jazz (not money-free, more like stream-of-consciousness-free), more barbecues, lots of great everything. Go Pats!

Weekend at Charlie's

aka It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Town.
Ok, done with the puns. My weekend in Wisconsin was phenomenal. Getting to hang with my aunt and uncle has been one of the best side-effects of moving to the Midwest. I took the bus up last Friday, we caught some great music, I had the best duck of my life, and we just walked around Madison. I'm pretty sure I hadn't been there since my cousin's wedding which was 5 or 10 years ago. On Saturday we had beers in the Union, a sweet patio by the water where all the UW kids congregate. Then we prepared our tailgating ingredients and drove the hour to Milwaukee to catch a Brewers game. What an experience.

I've never actually tailgated before, but having my first experience with Uncle Charlie at the helm might have raised my standards too high. Not only did we have sufficient meats and sides to stuff an elephant, but he brought an entire box of liquor just so he and Jeanne could have a couple Martinis. What a classy guy.
The game itself was equally awesome, the first Brewer to bat hit an inside-the-park home run, and it ended with the all-time saves leader notching his 597th save. I wonder if there's anything that impressive that I could do 597 times in my life. Here's a video I took of Trevor Hoffman coming out of the bullpen, bonus points if you can hear what his entrance song is.

All the fans, and I mean ALL the fans were on their feet, the stadium was literally shaking. Seems like a great fan base, and I can only assume it is because everyone tailgated before the game and thus were in great spirits.
Back in Madtown we caught some more jazz, indulged in a variety of delicious Wisconsinite beers, and devoured fantastic food. We climbed up the capitol building, perused the museum, and they even took me on a tour of their old apartments on campus. What a ride.
I returned to Chicago last Sunday, and it's good to be back. Monday night our rehearsal space hosted a performance of Messiaen's Quartet for the End of Time, one of the most amazing pieces of music ever written. And that was in 1941. Tough to beat, check it out if you can.
Other than that, my buddy Dean is in town visiting for a view days. We already did so much when he came here several months ago, so now we're taking it easy, hanging out in my new pad, going to art shows, introducing him to everyone, and just kicking it. He Ruth and I got all-you-can-eat sushi, a Chicago staple, but they made us order it all at once. Here's the proof:

So yeah, that rocked. Ok, time for animal pictures!!
Here's my new roommate Dmitri. At least I know someone still values my extensive CD collection.

This is the face this dog makes when I rub her belly. Terrifying? Perhaps.

And here's a cat in a sink!