Tuesday, March 27, 2012

A Year Together.

The Metrics:

373     =   Total days married.
3.4%   =   Current percentage of WR's lifetime spent as a spouse.
(ERR#)     =   Amount of meat consumed in celebration.  Preference = Picanha.
4         =   Number of followers of the blog, as of today's date.
4         =   Number of fish in the blog's Fish Tank.  Curious....
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March 20th marked an important event for the RowStein house: One year of marriage!  It's hard to believe that the big event was a whole year ago.  A few photos, as a reminder:
High-fivin' at the rehearsal.

The ceremony at the Como Conservatory.

Newly married!

In celebration of the anniversary, we had a late lunch (and... let's be honest, it was dinner too) at one of our favorite places, a steakhouse called Fogo de Chao.  This place is amazing.  If you've never been to a Brazilian steakhouse (also called a "Churrascaria"), they can be a little intimidating.  They can also   be kind of expensive, since you basically pay a flat rate for your seat, along with any "extras" (like drinks or desserts).  But if you enjoy a really good steak... and you can drum up a big appetite... there is just nothing better.
 
To help you share in our day (and because it's the topic of the week), I'll walk you through the churrascaria experience:  First, you're led to your table by a host or hostess, where you sit and order drinks.  In our case, Dan and I indulged on a glass of wine each.  Sure, it was 1:00 in the afternoon.  But, it was also our anniversary and red wine goes wonderfully with a pile of medium rare steak.  Don't judge.   Next, your waiter will invite you to enjoy the soup and salad bar.  These vary, depending on the restaurant, but they usually include things like high-quality sliced meats, cheeses, olives, veggies, leafy bits, hearts of palm, roasted potatoes, dressings, etc.  (Note:  If you're not a big meat person, a lot of these places will offer you a reduced salad-bar-only rate!  See?  Everyone's happy.)

After you've eaten your rabbit food, a handsome young waiter will take your plate and give you a new one, usually accompanied by a giant steak knife (which you will definitely need).  He'll also drop off a selection of small, table-shared sides.  They're pretty similar between restaurants, but at Fogo, they are the following:  1.) A basket of little amazing bread-roll things (Think: mini-popover with cheesy dough).  2.) Caramelized bananas.  3.)  Crispy-fried polenta.  And 4.) Garlic, cheese, and chive mashed potatoes.  We don't usually get refills on any of the sides (because we save our coveted stomach real estate for the tasty, tasty meat), but it's all you can eat... so the waiters will keep it coming, if you like.

I like the look of your meat, Gaucho.

Next, comes the meat parade!  Gauchos with sizzling, meat-laden sabers (see above).  Yes, really.  (No, seriously.  It's just like the above).  Before you partake, though, the waiter will direct your attention to the small coaster-like item on the table.  It's red on one side and green on the other.  And, yes, it's exactly what you think.  Green light go, red light stop.  Green side up = "Yes, YES!  BRING ME ALL THE MEATS."  Red side up = "Gimme a minute, bro.  Gotta... (burp) ... I gotta make some room."  As you might expect (given my gushing), the meat is phenomenal; hot off the fire-pits and sliced table-side in small, perfectly-cooked portions.  You can see the complete list of their cuts by clicking HERE.  And, of course, you can eat as much as you like.  It's gluttonous, but very fun.

*PRO TIP:  The lunch prices are typically about half the dinner prices... with the exact same experience.  It's a great way to save some money and allow yourself ample time to "walk it off," as it were.

After our stupidly delicious celebratory meal, we spent part of the afternoon wandering (read: waddling) around the Minneapolis Skyway system.  Only in a city that spends half their year in deeply frigid temps would such development occur around what is, essentially, a glorified set of hallways.  It's a fun walk, though, if you're ever in the neighborhood.  And there are lots of cozy coffee pit-stops and quirky retail shops to check out along the way.

Map of the Mpls Skyway system, in red! 

In the evening, we continued our celebration by seeing a play at the Guthrie.  Known by some locals as the "IKEA on the River" (for it's sleek design and navy-yellow color scheme), this famous theater complex is one of the biggest, and most successful in the country.  Check out their website by clicking HERE.  Dan and I saw Conor McPherson's play, The Birds.  No, it is not an adaptation of the Hitchcock movie.  But, yes, it's pretty much what you think, since McPherson adapted the play from the original short story by Daphne du Maurier.  The production was spooky and creepy and funny, and... though it was not my favorite piece of live theatre ever... we had a really great time.

The Guthrie, in all it's glory! (Note the yellow box.)

A view from inside the yellow box.

"The Birds" promo display.

We had planned on closing out the evening with dessert and drinks at Salut, the restaurant that held our wedding reception a year ago... but we were still so full from lunch (we're like camels of meat) that we decided to raincheck it.

A wedding pic at Salut.  How French we look!

All in all, a wonderful celebration to cap off a wonderful year of marriage.

Thanks for reading!
WR

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Chicago.

The Metrics:

5         =   Total number of Greyhound buses boarded.
16       =   Minutes spent ironing JET interview clothes.
1.36    =   Ratio: Time spent in Chicago (for interview) vs. time traveling to & from.
3.89    =   Ratio: Time spent in Chicago (for conference) vs. time traveling to & from.
4         =   Number of alcoholic beverages consumed.  Preference: Amaretto Sour.
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These last few weeks have been very busy for the RowStein house.  Dan had work, class (complete with Midterm exam), intense opera rehearsals for Lucia di Lammermoor, and several performances of the same.  I, instead, traveled twice to Chicago in a two week period.  Neither trip was for vacation, but both were enjoyable in their way.
Ahh, Chicago.  So very pretty.
The first trip (which gave me a mere 24.5 hours in Chicago) was for my official JET Program interview.  If you've never heard of the Japan Exchange and Teaching Program, you can visit their very cool website by clicking HERE.  The Program places native English speakers in a variety of teaching, coaching, and assistant positions, working alongside Japanese teachers (in Japan... obviously).  I've been a fan of the organization for years, having applied once before in the 2008-2009 season.  At that time, I was offered a position, but turned it down in order to move to the Twin Cities and... well, grow up a little more.  Now, I'm much more ready to take the leap, if they'll have me.
Here's one of the JET Program logos.  I dig the silhouettes.
The interview itself went well, I think.  I walked out of the Chicago consulate with a happy feeling in my gut that I continually dissected, picked-apart, and obsessed over in the weeks that followed until I felt like I'd completely bombed the interview.  Since that's exactly what I did the first time around (when I was offered a spot), I've decided to take it as a good sign.  I'll hear the results of the interview sometime in early April and, in the spirit of blogginess, I will most certainly be posting something.  Whether that's a celebratory post or a phonetic-typed rendition of my drunken weeping remains to be seen.

My second trip to Chicago was for the Mid-America Theatre Conference.  (You can check out their 2012 conference website by clicking HERE.)  I was a participating playwright both this year and last, with my original works being presented in the conference's signature "Friday Night Fringe Fest."  These plays are usually selected for their racy subject matter, their envelope-pushing, and... in the case of my works... leather corsets, slap-happy women, and glow in the dark dildos.  Hey, we all have to have a niche, right?

Posing by the digital faces in Millennium Park.
In all seriousness, though, the conference was a wonderful experience.  I met some fabulously talented playwrights and heard many new works, some polished and some still in progress.  I listened to the papers of brilliant scholars and theater professionals.  I had passionate, stimulating conversation over drinks and way too expensive food.  And, best of all, I remembered why I love working in the theatre.  I was reminded why I slave over my laptop every night.  I left Chicago inspired.  Rejuvenated.  Thrilled.

So, it's really a shame that my trip home was so soul-crushingly awful.  Now, to be totally honest, I've had a couple wonderful Greyhound experiences in the past.  Those buses were spacious, clean, the ride was smooth, the passengers were quiet and courteous, and the expense was minimal (which is an important factor for someone as poor as me).  So, they're not ALL bad.  However, my most recent trip... the overnight bus from Chicago to the Twin Cities... was so unbelievably horrible that it nearly erases all previous positivity. 

Here it is, in a chronological nutshell:
1.)  Man with no teeth, smelling of cheap booze, sits next to me and recites the entire Marley family tree, listing how each one relates to Bob Marley. 
2.)  Sneaky little twenty-something tries to smoke in the bathroom, causing bus to be jerked to the shoulder of the highway, while other passengers chant, "Someone gonna walk!  Someone gonna waaaaalk!"  (Note: He didn't actually walk, but he did have to get off the bus earlier than his final destination, sleeping in the Milwaukee Greyhound terminal as punishment.)
3.)  A loudly snoring man.  So... much... snoring.
4.)  A blue-toothed woman who insisted on talking on the phone.  At midnight.  And 1 am.  And 2 am. 
5.)  McDonald's.  Somewhere around 3 am.  Even though the guy keeps explaining that they're on the "limited night menu," which is IN HUGE PRINT, every single passenger in the line in front of me keeps ordering something that's not on it.  Then he has to explain AGAIN.  Every passenger.  I'm not kidding.
6.)  Now, it's quiet.  Everyone's asleep but me.  Well, me and the farmer man, in his dirty, over-sized overalls.  We're the only ones awake.  I can't sleep.  I can't sleep.  I watch him, idly.  What's he doing?  He's drinking orange juice straight from a half-gallon jug.  He's reading.  His mouth hangs wide open as he reads.  He looks like a fish.  In my sleep-addled state, it's making me giggle.  "Who reads like that?" I think.  Then I notice his overalls are moving.  They're moving.  That's weird.  "Does he have a breathing problem?" I think.  "He's looks kind of like he's-- OH MY GOD."
7.)  OH MY GOD OH MY GOD.
8.)  This is a public place!  Do I report him?  I mean, I was the one looking... OH GOD.  I'M A PERV.
9.)  Now, I stare out the dark window.  Staring.  Counting the minutes.  Not looking.  Not looking.  Trying my best not to be an accessory to pervishness.
10.)  5:40 am!  St. Paul station!  At last!  I grab my bags, run to my husband's waiting car, throw myself inside, and shout, "DRIVE!"

So.  There you have it.  Chicago x2.
Stay tuned for weekly RowStein updates!

Sincerely,
WR