It’s time to play everyone’s favorite game I just made up, which is: NY TIMES CROSSWORD CLUE FILLED IN HILARIOUSLY WRONG or CHRISTIAN ROCK BAND NAME?
3. MUD AND DRIED
ANSWER KEY: They’re all NYT crossword clues the Prof and I filled in incorrectly, some of our finest work I think, in that they would all also make excellent Christan rock band names. “Hoydn” was our answer to a clue about a composer, “Slome” apparently helps you “see plays” (I figured it was some sort of viewing device I had never heard of), and “Mud and dried” is my unorthodox definition of “routine.”
So this edition of PKK International comes to you from muggy St. Louis, MO, in which I have, in no particular order:
–accidentally broken the law on the Metro and been written up with a “courtesy warning” by no less than 3 St Louis metro cops
–carried all of the Prof’s worldly possessions out of his apartment in Irvine (some of which then made it promptly into my apartment in Irvine), into his car, across this great nation of ours where the temperatures soured and so did our mutual pit of dread for the unforseen circumstances of the future
–schlepped around St. Louis looking for an apartment
–found a very cool apartment in old-movie “Listen up, kid…you got the goods” style in which the landlady decided the Prof seemed like a stand-up fella and gave us the keys to this place without credit-checking (which I suppose is good since I am now branded for life as a St. Louis CRIMINAL)
–schlepped all of the Prof’s worldly possessions and many newly-purchased ones up two flights of stairs in 100-degree heat
–bitten the fishy bullet and tried St. Louis sushi (had previously refused to eat sushi anywhere landlocked) to find that it’s not all that bad (still no Zen Bistro)
–convinced the Prof to purchase a much more expensive mattress made of memory foam (developed by NASA to conform to your ass!) and thereinafter had much trouble removing my kiester from bed
–spent my days doing double duty as a houswife (I actually mended a button the other day, plus I have done the Prof’s laundry twice, though to be fair it was just doing MY laundry and I threw the Prof’s in there because I didn’t want to waste water, so it’s more of a hippie move than a housewife move) and super-sequestered dissertation-prospectus composer (I finished a draft of it, fucking finally–I have “left it alone” today so tomorrow is the day of reckoning wherein I discover that it is actually total gibberish)
–convinced Prof Moneybags to purhcase not one, but two folding “floor chairs” at Target so that he could have one at home and one at the office (the best part about this is that the “office” chair is bright, bright pink)
Monday I return, triumphantly, to a sun-baked but mercifully humidity-free Orange County, thus ending my brief tenure as a sequestered Midwesterner/quasisoutherner (St Louis can’t really decide what it is). Then I will begin rehearsals with my two bands, the Rebecca Schuman Experience (a flute-centered experimental art-rock spectacular) and my new Christian-rock side project, Mud and Dried.