more zuchini

work today, first time in forever, it feels like. i was stupid and forgot a sweater and just froze in the air conditioning. after work i went to the library- it was POURING when i left the sears tower. i'm really glad the heat wave is breaking, but it didn't warm me up. i stepped in a big puddle crossing jackson, and my sandals just about slipped off walking to the library. sigh. and the train was of course so air conditioned. when it's a zillion degrees, do i ever get the airconditioned car?
when i got home i was hungry, but i knew i had to cook. why didn't someone tell me when i went grocery shopping on saturday that i'd only be in chicago for 6 more days??? but i put on records, and it all went away. my new player ROCKS, though the arm isn't automatic, which takes some getting used to. and there's still the reciever problems- namely, the auxillary audio connection in the back sucks, so every time you open or close the fridge door (or even look at it too hard) it crackles off. and you have to wiggle the cords or tap the stereo. but it was still worth it- listened to kim richey's rise, al stewart's year of the cat, and everything but the girl's language of love. i grated up amost all of the rest of stacy's zuchinni and made zuchini feta pancakes, which are really yummy with some yogurt and the beet salad. whenever i'm wearing vintage clothing, listening to records, and cooking out of the moosewood cookbook (which, actually, happens more than one would think), i imagine myself in another time. there are so many aspects of me that i think would thrive in the 70s, i was born a little late. i often have this odd feeling of nostalgia, of straining for memories that i see in movies or read about in books but have never really experienced myself. it's like the first time i went to new york city- all these memories i have from other things, other people, but they're really just from my imagination (though i can now travel to nyc and there's nothing i can do about being alive in the 60s or 70s. and i know there are people who really live their lives as if they are in the 60s or whatever, with cateye glasses and tvs with bunny ear antennae. but knowing what i know about the future, i'm not ready to give up my instant communication. my cell phone, my text messaging, my computer, my email... how did people live without answering machines? and though i love records, i would still at least need cassette tapes, so that making mixes would be a possibility. i love pearl, but she is superfluous. (and have i told you all about my music magic mixer software yet?) the mix, however, as an art form, is a necessity. life without the mix is like life without cheese, without wheat, without books.