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Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

Baseball's been so all-consuming lately, I haven't gotten around to jawing about all the other stuff I wanna talk about.   (Yes, I was weak, it was still only the 5th when I went to bed Saturday night.  I was planning on being more supportive this evening, as Tampa Bay could clearly use the help, but at the moment, Fox is refusing to come in at all.  I'm not sure what's up with that, but it better the hell fix itself before the next Sarah Connor Chronicles airs.)

Like, we've finally seen the first half of Torchwood season 2. There's actually tons I like about this show, but I'm not sure I can be coherent about it yet, what with all the Boys!  Kissing!  And it was HOT.   Especially Jack/John in ep 1.  (I'd be just a big a sucker for quality girl kissing, if I could find any...J and I really, really tried to like The L Word, but we just couldn't get into it.) 

I cannot believe how likable I find both A) John Barrowman (despite the fact that I have to keep reminding myself that he's not that kid who played the so-very-minor role of Soda's buddy that I hadda into look up the character's name) and B) Jack Harkness, who I somehow buy as sincerely loving both Gwen and Ianto with just no trouble at all.

There was an ep about memory ("Adam") that I found to be an interesting counterpoint to all the memory stuff going on in the current season of Supernatural, both of which I find to be interesting as someone with real world experience with trauma and memory. I'm gonna try to get around with posting about that after the Series wraps with Game 7 (or 6 or HOPEFULLY NOT 5...look alive over there...walkin' in a run in the first inning, fer pity's sake...where were these boneheaded moves when you were playing my Sox?)

First up, however, I wanted to finally post some links to my Chicago photos. Since I hardly ever get around to putting things on my flickr account, I discovered that it is likely to take me 6 jillion years to upload and tag everything and I gotta be out the door by six-thirty tomorrow morning...so, as it turns out, all I've got up so far are mostly shots I took of work in the tremendously amazing First Chicago International Poster Biennial, on display in Grant Park. 

I ran across it completely by accident.  Our hotel was around the block from Millennium Park, which connects to Grant Park by means of a truly beautiful bridge by Frank Gehry.  I didn't know that's what it was at the time...there's a point, when you've finally torn yourself away from Cloud Gate and are admiring the curlicues of the Pritzker Pavilion, that you can just see this mirrored surface snaking off in the distance.  It was a gorgeous fall day and I was playing my current fave mix on my iPod and it just drew me on. 

I'm really glad, too, because the exhibit was stunning.  I started out just meandering, but soon realized I needed to be more methodical, because I wanted to be sure I saw every single one.  The labels with the artists' names were pretty weather-beaten--the ink had run and they were mostly no longer legible. 

I'm sorry to say that It rained really hard the next night, so by time I got to take J over to see it on Wednesday, a good number of the posters themselves were in similar shape.  But it made having had that moment--a late Monday morning with the plaza mostly to myself and nowhere to be so that I could just keep taking a little bit longer--seem more like one of those grace notes I need to keep better in mind when I'm tempted to echo Babylon 5's Ambassador G'Kar ("WHY does the universe the universe hate me?") 

(Actually, I HAD one of those moments in a third Chicago park--and as soon as I get all the fabulous critters from the zoo and aquarium uploaded, I'll post about it, too!)