So clearly I don't post on this thing anymore. Maybe someday I will again, but for now it exists solely as a record of a few magical years.
You can find me on the Internet still, just at other places. Such as:
twitter.com/timryder
facebook.com/profile.php?id=34001645&ref=profile
See you 'round, Internets.
4.27.2009
1.23.2009
1.20.2009
And a happy new year...in jail!
I'm glad Old Man Potter was able to make it to the inauguration.It's a new day, America! Let's do it!
1.07.2009
Like most bands, they got preachy toward the end
Experiment: I couldn't decide what music I wanted to listen to today, so I put iTunes on an entire library shuffle. This is pretty rare for me, as I normally consider myself a "whole album" kind of guy.
Conclusion: I remember the lyrics to a surprising amount of Goldfinger songs.
Further Questioning: Why do I have so many Goldfinger songs on my computer?
Conclusion: I remember the lyrics to a surprising amount of Goldfinger songs.
Further Questioning: Why do I have so many Goldfinger songs on my computer?
12.31.2008
On the road again
Hitting the road again today, this time to Iowa.
But quickly before I go, I learned yesterday that one of my aunts now has the best address ever.
She lives on Prince Valiant Dr.
I shared this with Tara, who informed me that one of her old friends now lives on Gobbler's Knob Rd.
Happy New Year, everybody. May your 2009 bring as much joy as those two things brought this apartment.
But quickly before I go, I learned yesterday that one of my aunts now has the best address ever.
She lives on Prince Valiant Dr.
I shared this with Tara, who informed me that one of her old friends now lives on Gobbler's Knob Rd.
Happy New Year, everybody. May your 2009 bring as much joy as those two things brought this apartment.
12.29.2008
85 percent of my love
Still doing things Texas style. Rebecca and I head back to Chicago this afternoon where we'll enjoy a one-day respite before hitting the road again, this time to Iowa to see the other half of her family. It's like we're home, but WE JUST CAN'T STOP TRAVELING.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I did, and now I'd like to talk briefly about Chuck Klosterman.
Rebecca's mom remembered that I had put his book Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story on my list for last year but didn't receive it. I then, for whatever reason, completely failed to read it in the entire following year. This made it a lovely surprise come present-opening time.
(I also received some very sharp knives that will definitely not make it on the plane. They will be have to be mailed.)
Anyway, I've had some time to read quite a bit of it over the last two days. It's Klosterman being Klosterman - incredibly analytical and surprisingly self-absorbed about subjects that normally require neither of those things. Really good if you enjoy him.
My only beef with the book, and really the thing that I've thought the most about so far, is the blurb on the back cover. From author Bret Easton Ellis, it reads as follows:
"I can't think of a more sheerly likeable writer than Chuck Klosterman and his old-fashioned, all American voice: big-hearted and direct, bright and unironic, optimistic and amiable, self-deprecating and reassuring - what a captivating lack of fuss or pretension."
This quote makes me seriously doubt whether Mr. Ellis and I have been reading the same author at all. Of the 13 descriptive terms used in that blurb, I see merit in exactly four.
I consider the following to be possible explanations:
a) Mr. Ellis made this quote ironically.
b) Mr. Klosterman used this quote ironically.
c) The publisher liked it.
I'm leaning toward option c at this point. Options a and b are unlikely because there is a small kernel of truth in the quote, or at least 4/13s of one.
The final option is that everyone is being sincere and it's actually intended to be 85% of an ironic back cover blurb.
And really, the entire purpose of writing this was to get to that last sentence because it was so clever of me to think of it. You're welcome, Internet.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I did, and now I'd like to talk briefly about Chuck Klosterman.
Rebecca's mom remembered that I had put his book Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story on my list for last year but didn't receive it. I then, for whatever reason, completely failed to read it in the entire following year. This made it a lovely surprise come present-opening time.
(I also received some very sharp knives that will definitely not make it on the plane. They will be have to be mailed.)
Anyway, I've had some time to read quite a bit of it over the last two days. It's Klosterman being Klosterman - incredibly analytical and surprisingly self-absorbed about subjects that normally require neither of those things. Really good if you enjoy him.
My only beef with the book, and really the thing that I've thought the most about so far, is the blurb on the back cover. From author Bret Easton Ellis, it reads as follows:
"I can't think of a more sheerly likeable writer than Chuck Klosterman and his old-fashioned, all American voice: big-hearted and direct, bright and unironic, optimistic and amiable, self-deprecating and reassuring - what a captivating lack of fuss or pretension."
This quote makes me seriously doubt whether Mr. Ellis and I have been reading the same author at all. Of the 13 descriptive terms used in that blurb, I see merit in exactly four.
I consider the following to be possible explanations:
a) Mr. Ellis made this quote ironically.
b) Mr. Klosterman used this quote ironically.
c) The publisher liked it.
I'm leaning toward option c at this point. Options a and b are unlikely because there is a small kernel of truth in the quote, or at least 4/13s of one.
The final option is that everyone is being sincere and it's actually intended to be 85% of an ironic back cover blurb.
And really, the entire purpose of writing this was to get to that last sentence because it was so clever of me to think of it. You're welcome, Internet.
12.23.2008
Deep in the heart
I'm down in Texas for a week with Rebecca and part of her family.
It got up to 50 degrees today, with promises of 70 in the next couple days. This is a nice break from freezing Chicago where on Sunday it was quite literally colder than the North Pole.
This just in: People in Texas are really quite fond of Texas.
It got up to 50 degrees today, with promises of 70 in the next couple days. This is a nice break from freezing Chicago where on Sunday it was quite literally colder than the North Pole.
This just in: People in Texas are really quite fond of Texas.
12.18.2008
Saga of the lamp, continued
Those of you who were reading this blog around this time last year might remember the Saga of the Lamp, wherein some maids broke my cool lamp and, instead of reimbursing me for it, just bought me a new lamp.
This is an update to the Saga.
I have broken that lamp.
I was wearing some big clunky shoes and standing at my desk, then just took an innocent little step backwards. It was enough to catch the bottom part of my nightstand and send the entire contents crashing to the floor. Needless to say, the frosted glass was not made to withstand such an impact.
So we bid farewell to yet another lamp. I have purchased another one from Target and you may notice that it is much less breakable. I intend to stop this curse in its tracks.
This is an update to the Saga.
I have broken that lamp.
I was wearing some big clunky shoes and standing at my desk, then just took an innocent little step backwards. It was enough to catch the bottom part of my nightstand and send the entire contents crashing to the floor. Needless to say, the frosted glass was not made to withstand such an impact.
So we bid farewell to yet another lamp. I have purchased another one from Target and you may notice that it is much less breakable. I intend to stop this curse in its tracks.
12.17.2008
It's really tracking well
I'm getting used to some of the changes that have happened around here while I was gone. The new CTA Bus Tracker was just getting off the ground as I was leaving and since I primarily used the El back then, I really had no use for it. Now that my destinations are slightly more varied, I've enjoyed trying it out.
Basically, through any computer or "web-enabled mobile device," you enter where you are and which way you're headed and they'll tell you when the next bus will be along. It only works for certain bus lines currently, probably because putting that information up for the 22 Clark bus would involve a branch of hyper-mathematics that hasn't been invented yet.
The upside of this is that when it's really cold in Chicago (i.e. now until late April), you can use the Bus Tracker to time your departure to spend as little time in the cold as possible. I tried it the other day as I was headed to the 8 Halsted bus.
Initial verdict: It has completely revolutionized the way I barely miss buses.
Basically, through any computer or "web-enabled mobile device," you enter where you are and which way you're headed and they'll tell you when the next bus will be along. It only works for certain bus lines currently, probably because putting that information up for the 22 Clark bus would involve a branch of hyper-mathematics that hasn't been invented yet.
The upside of this is that when it's really cold in Chicago (i.e. now until late April), you can use the Bus Tracker to time your departure to spend as little time in the cold as possible. I tried it the other day as I was headed to the 8 Halsted bus.
Initial verdict: It has completely revolutionized the way I barely miss buses.
12.16.2008
Home again
It should come as a surprise to very few that I seriously neglected this blog in the waning days of our contract and the subsequent return home. For anyone who has followed the writings contained herein for any length of time, it is a pattern that should be considered inevitable.
Now that I'm back and settled in, I shall endeavor to be more faithful in writing. This too, is part of the aforementioned pattern.
I fear that my life currently will yield very little in terms of exciting updates. I am unemployed and still trying to figure out where groceries come from. The most exciting thing happening at the moment is the fact that it is snowing quite heavily outside. See? Fascinating.
So if I occasionally dip back into the archives and bring up a photo from our overseas adventures to discuss, you'll have to forgive me for the lack of continuity.
But to start things off, it's nice to be home. Below is a clip of a band I just discovered. I love that I live in a country where this is a valid aesthetic choice for a musical group.
The fact that they recently opened for Electric Six should surprise no one.
Now that I'm back and settled in, I shall endeavor to be more faithful in writing. This too, is part of the aforementioned pattern.
I fear that my life currently will yield very little in terms of exciting updates. I am unemployed and still trying to figure out where groceries come from. The most exciting thing happening at the moment is the fact that it is snowing quite heavily outside. See? Fascinating.
So if I occasionally dip back into the archives and bring up a photo from our overseas adventures to discuss, you'll have to forgive me for the lack of continuity.
But to start things off, it's nice to be home. Below is a clip of a band I just discovered. I love that I live in a country where this is a valid aesthetic choice for a musical group.
The fact that they recently opened for Electric Six should surprise no one.
12.10.2008
Coming home
Republished from The Jade Journal
The funny thing about finally going home after four months at sea is how everything is pretty much how you left it.
Sure, some things are different. There's a new president-elect. There are two new haircutting places within a block of your apartment. And instead of parking meters on Clark Street, there's some sort of new-fangled electronic parking box. (How long were you gone? Is this what the future looks like?)
But most things are pretty much the same. Your room looks like you remember and you still hear sirens go by with unsettling frequency. The #9 at Jimmy Johns still tastes great. The guy at the dry cleaners downstairs is still very friendly, despite the fact that you are both uncomfortably unsure of each others' names.
It's just weird to think that you've had all of these amazing experiences jam-packed into four months while the vast majority of people were going about their normal routines. And you wish you could explain it in some way, any way that makes sense and doesn't take four hours and hundreds of pictures.
But you can't. And that's okay. Because the only thing that's really changed around here is you.
And I guess that's the point.
(Thanks to my fellow castmates, especially Jessica for starting this blog and encouraging us to write. And to everyone at Second City for this amazing opportunity. And most definitely to Rebecca for not killing me despite four months of too-close quarters and too-violent video games.)
The funny thing about finally going home after four months at sea is how everything is pretty much how you left it.
Sure, some things are different. There's a new president-elect. There are two new haircutting places within a block of your apartment. And instead of parking meters on Clark Street, there's some sort of new-fangled electronic parking box. (How long were you gone? Is this what the future looks like?)
But most things are pretty much the same. Your room looks like you remember and you still hear sirens go by with unsettling frequency. The #9 at Jimmy Johns still tastes great. The guy at the dry cleaners downstairs is still very friendly, despite the fact that you are both uncomfortably unsure of each others' names.
It's just weird to think that you've had all of these amazing experiences jam-packed into four months while the vast majority of people were going about their normal routines. And you wish you could explain it in some way, any way that makes sense and doesn't take four hours and hundreds of pictures.
But you can't. And that's okay. Because the only thing that's really changed around here is you.
And I guess that's the point.
(Thanks to my fellow castmates, especially Jessica for starting this blog and encouraging us to write. And to everyone at Second City for this amazing opportunity. And most definitely to Rebecca for not killing me despite four months of too-close quarters and too-violent video games.)
11.07.2008
For example, today is Istanbul Day. That's the most I know.
Republished from The Jade Journal
The funny thing about renting DVDs from the crew store is that you have absolutely no idea when they’re due back.
Let me explain – on the ship, there is a great crew welfare department that is responsible for, well, crew welfare. The crew welfare people do many things to keep crew members happy, healthy and drunk.
They organize crew excursions to Cairo and other cool places, which is nice because it’s absolutely essential to have an armed security guard travel with you to Cairo and they’re so expensive to hire for just a few people. Better to have 40 crew members and one guard. You know, spread the cost around.
They throw parties in the crew bar and give away free beer for just about any reason imaginable. Most frequently, they’re for some country’s Independence Day although these seem to happen with suspicious frequency. In fact, in the three months I’ve been on the ship, I think we’ve celebrated India’s twice.
And of course, they run the crew store. This is where you can stock up on essentials – toothpaste, deodorant, dried mango slices and strange foreign juices…anything you need to make you feel at home, regardless of what country you’re from. This is also where you can rent DVDs, which brings me back to the problem.
It’s not that they don’t tell you how long you can keep the DVDs. They do: 3 days for a movie, 7 for a TV series. It’s just that these terms, and really, time itself, hold relatively little meaning in this environment.
Most of the time we have absolutely no idea what day it is. We know we tip our room stewards on Sunday and get paid on Wednesday, but often even those pass us by without fanfare or notice. (Sorry Juana!) The only way we mark time is knowing if we have a show tonight and what port we happen to be in.
So telling me this DVD set of Battlestar Galactica: Season Three is due back next Thursday does me no good. We might as well be using a Mayan calendar and saying it’s due back next Quetzalcoatl, so could you just print me out a reminder card? Thanks.
The funny thing about renting DVDs from the crew store is that you have absolutely no idea when they’re due back.
Let me explain – on the ship, there is a great crew welfare department that is responsible for, well, crew welfare. The crew welfare people do many things to keep crew members happy, healthy and drunk.
They organize crew excursions to Cairo and other cool places, which is nice because it’s absolutely essential to have an armed security guard travel with you to Cairo and they’re so expensive to hire for just a few people. Better to have 40 crew members and one guard. You know, spread the cost around.
They throw parties in the crew bar and give away free beer for just about any reason imaginable. Most frequently, they’re for some country’s Independence Day although these seem to happen with suspicious frequency. In fact, in the three months I’ve been on the ship, I think we’ve celebrated India’s twice.
And of course, they run the crew store. This is where you can stock up on essentials – toothpaste, deodorant, dried mango slices and strange foreign juices…anything you need to make you feel at home, regardless of what country you’re from. This is also where you can rent DVDs, which brings me back to the problem.
It’s not that they don’t tell you how long you can keep the DVDs. They do: 3 days for a movie, 7 for a TV series. It’s just that these terms, and really, time itself, hold relatively little meaning in this environment.
Most of the time we have absolutely no idea what day it is. We know we tip our room stewards on Sunday and get paid on Wednesday, but often even those pass us by without fanfare or notice. (Sorry Juana!) The only way we mark time is knowing if we have a show tonight and what port we happen to be in.
So telling me this DVD set of Battlestar Galactica: Season Three is due back next Thursday does me no good. We might as well be using a Mayan calendar and saying it’s due back next Quetzalcoatl, so could you just print me out a reminder card? Thanks.
10.21.2008
Public bathing in foreign lands
Republished from The Jade Journal
The funny thing about Turkish baths is how decidedly non-bath-centric they are.
This is not to imply that they are not cleansing. Indeed, afterwards I felt as though my very soul had been purified.
But they don’t involve public bathing so much as sweating and steam and burly men with mustaches rubbing you down and anointing you with oil. And yes – let’s address this, as it’s bound to come up eventually – that sounds pretty gay.
But it’s not. It’s awesome. Which is not to say that gay stuff can’t be awesome but I just don’t have time to get into the transitive property right now.
Here’s what happens – you change out of your clothes and into a little towel thing and head into the main room. This is a large open room with a circular marble slab in the middle and bathing stations around the outside of the circle. The slab is somehow heated to a really high temperature (Possibly magic?). Everything is silent and still. Unless there is a noise, in which case it reverberates around the room for the next five minutes. It is here, as you’re laying on the marble slab and beginning to heavily perspire while the Muslim call to prayer softly echoes outside and you don’t quite know what happens next, that you really start to wonder what your life is right now and how you came to be in it.
Then all such thoughts are swept from your mind as the burly men with mustaches arrive and soapsuds come out of nowhere and suddenly you are getting roughly exfoliated by a dude. After you come to terms with this, it is a relatively peaceful experience until they douse you with cold water and demand a tip.
Then, if you sprang for the luxury treatment, you are taken into another room, placed on a massage table, and told to relax while another burly man plays “Find the Knots of Tension and Make Them Explode!” After a lot of this, some scented oils and some stereotypical massage karate chopping, he also demands a tip.
If you want, you can go hang out on the slab some more and think about your life, but at that point I was tired and really wanted a gyro. So I got one. And it was the most relaxed I’ve ever been while eating a gyro.
The funny thing about Turkish baths is how decidedly non-bath-centric they are.
This is not to imply that they are not cleansing. Indeed, afterwards I felt as though my very soul had been purified.
But they don’t involve public bathing so much as sweating and steam and burly men with mustaches rubbing you down and anointing you with oil. And yes – let’s address this, as it’s bound to come up eventually – that sounds pretty gay.
But it’s not. It’s awesome. Which is not to say that gay stuff can’t be awesome but I just don’t have time to get into the transitive property right now.
Here’s what happens – you change out of your clothes and into a little towel thing and head into the main room. This is a large open room with a circular marble slab in the middle and bathing stations around the outside of the circle. The slab is somehow heated to a really high temperature (Possibly magic?). Everything is silent and still. Unless there is a noise, in which case it reverberates around the room for the next five minutes. It is here, as you’re laying on the marble slab and beginning to heavily perspire while the Muslim call to prayer softly echoes outside and you don’t quite know what happens next, that you really start to wonder what your life is right now and how you came to be in it.
Then all such thoughts are swept from your mind as the burly men with mustaches arrive and soapsuds come out of nowhere and suddenly you are getting roughly exfoliated by a dude. After you come to terms with this, it is a relatively peaceful experience until they douse you with cold water and demand a tip.
Then, if you sprang for the luxury treatment, you are taken into another room, placed on a massage table, and told to relax while another burly man plays “Find the Knots of Tension and Make Them Explode!” After a lot of this, some scented oils and some stereotypical massage karate chopping, he also demands a tip.
If you want, you can go hang out on the slab some more and think about your life, but at that point I was tired and really wanted a gyro. So I got one. And it was the most relaxed I’ve ever been while eating a gyro.
International flavour
 |
| From Mykonos II 10.10.08 |
One of the interesting things about being overseas is all the fantastically interesting flavors of things we come across. Or should I say flavours.
Chips, mostly. Oregano, paprika, hot dog, ketchup - they really go for flavours beyond the normal stuff we're used to.
Which is why we were so excited to try this banana-flavoured cola that Cody had been telling us about. That excitement dissipated with the first grimace-inducing sip, but we were still delighted by the yellow monkey spokesman.
Jerry! You infidel!
 |
| From Cairo, Egypt 26&27.09.08 |
I don't know why seeing Seinfeld on Cairo TV with Arabic subtitles delighted me so, but it did.
Non-Greek heritage
 |
| From Athens II 01.10.08 |
When my dad got off the shuttle from the airport, he looked like death. He was sick before he left and traveling overseas, compounded with crazy jet lag, doesn't make for a quick recovery. He spent the first few days in bed, but recovered enough to watch the first show from the front row. And then the next four from the same spot. With my mom. True to form, they liked everything but liked Rebecca and I doing our synchronized swimming act the best.
It's nice to have parents who support what you're doing and come to your shows. Hopefully they won't have to come halfway around the world to see the next one.
10.05.2008
It would be impolite not to
 |
| From Istanbul, Turkey I 18.09.08 |
When in Istanbul, it's customary to consume Turkish beer and Turkish hookah.
My friend Matt Mages said of this picture, "This photo pretty much sums up how I always expected your engagement to look."
I like that.
He's really great
 |
| From Corfu, Greece 03.10.08 |
We found this guy sitting on a street in Corfu, Greece. Rebecca pretended to take a picture of me but really just took one of him.
I wish we spoke the same language so he could tell me everything about his life. I'm not sure, but I think I may want to be him when I grow up.
It makes sense
 |
| From Jumpin' From Jesse |
Because when you're in front of the pyramids and the sphinx, the first thought that should come to your mind is, "Let's pretend like we're in High School Musical."
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