i am so out of steam from traveling myself that i cannot even process your earlier post p but i will try to take a look later when im not delirious.
i left my mom's this afternoon at 1.45, to catch a 2.15 njtransit train to newark. i am just getting home, at 12 midnight. yes folks, thats a grand total of 10 hours, give or take some change. i wrote the following while waiting in the airport in newark, which i thought was a nice way to pass the time. but then it took much longer to get out of nyc than suspected, plus it was super turbulent-- so much so that the stewards didnt even come around with beverages until we had 45 minutes left in the air. kind of intense. of course, miami has wonderful planning, so we then waited on the runway, waiting for a gate for another hour. the good news? i was able to find my parked car. oh, the never-ending human spirit. so again, below is some musing from earlier this eve. i must get myself into a shower & bed.
"newark airport missive: 3.17pm"
of course this is the way it is
just as i was thinking about how much i loved the ease and comfort of newark airport, new jersey transit and the speedy little high-tec air-train, just when i was thinking i should always fly out of here... my flight gets delayed. yes yes i know, its raining and i cant help it, nor can lovely new jersey . but i purposefully took the earlier nj transit train to get here with more than enough time to clear security, only to find out that american has let me down once again. well, at least im not stuck on the plane like this with a limited amount of water. and technically there is a bar here. its just, i know if i go into the bar, im going to keep drinking until we board, and then i will be drunk on the plane and get a headache and be cranky. such is life! people in airports are gross, btw. if that wasnt already a well-known truth.
being in the airport actually reminds me to raise this lingering issue i have. what is up with places charging for wi-fi?! when we were staying in atlanta for work, at the RITZ for crying out loud, we had to pay for internet. and, same thing here in newark. i mean, really? is this not the 21st century? why the hell would i pay 9.99 for an hour of wireless? i dont even pay for this shit at home. i mean, its free in bryant park. it cant really be that expensive. plus, dont all the overpriced food and beverage selections cover those little added wi-fi costs? but i digress. back to the better things in life.
thanksgiving was wonderful! it was so great to be at home, to see all of you girls and boys, and to relax, spend time with family, eating, running in central park... the air! it just smells so refreshing and fresh and cool and lovely. at first of course its shocking, but the air in miami, while warm, always feels slightly oppressive- no longer outright humid, but still, heavy and thick in your lungs, like it settles there and likes to sink to the bottom. here, walking out of a hot restaurant, or taking a jaunt around central park- it cleanses you. just walking around new york, there is always a feeling that i have come home. its like im just away at college for the year, but with worse vacations, less binge drinking, and no leg warmers. its almost overwhelming how little there is to do at my house in miami compared to here: no running around to meet friends, no long walks on errands in the neighborhood, no mom to make some warm tomato soup. i know, im spoiled. its a good life. also, startling difference between walking into a bar in ny and feeling like you can drink solo there without being a weirdo- compared to similar actions in miami. its much more oppressive, more odd i think in miami, probably because it involves hotel bars and couples or groups of friends out on the town. in ny, i feel like it can be as simple as a neigborhood thing. and yes, there is that hilarious bar by my apt, 'on the rocks', but as i mentioned weeks ago, when we stopped in when ben was in town, it involved me and one other women as compared to the 50 or so men, in varying ages, with mullets.
unfortunately i finished my book while waiting on the other side of the trip in the airport, so i am left here with a vanity fair, two us weeklies, and the sunday times. i think it should hold me over, but still. i feel highly unprepared. (im also a little disapointed i bought the sunday times here as it includes a "new jersey" section instead of a city or metro.. .my two favs). oh well. theres always the internet, right?
this week hopefully will not be too hectic at work. i cant imagine i will have to work on the same case that we've been working on since last month. also, tuesday night brings 'art basel miami beach' edition to town, so there are some parties and openings and dinners to look forward to, being guested around by benjamin isnt really a rough life. i imagine it will be a little strange surrounded by other new yorkers down in miami, surreal but nice nonetheless.
and-- only about 3 weeks til im back! this means my miami-coffee-mug and other-paraphenelia shopping must be done stat. dont worry kids, im on it. everyone gets a miami thong! ok, well... maybe ill save that especially for birthdays and annivesaries.
time to power down and read the times. if only i had a turkey drumstick to gnaw on...
xoxo
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Beyond Third Party Bias...
Hey hey, I made it home a little bit ago, after a 5 hour bus-ride, and it's good to be back. Well, actually, it sucks that I had to leave NY so soon, but work calls. Quick recap of Turkey Day: ran a 5k turkey trot in Long Island City that morning, though it seemed more like a 4k, and it was only like, 12 people who did it. Then turkey and kimchi on Thurs, followed by more turkey and kimchi and empanadas on Fri. Great great great to see everyone back home, including readers of this blog.
Anyhoo.
This post is rather hard for me to write, because it not only:
(a) tackles a sensitive subject
(b) it makes me come off as an asshole/bigot/jerk and
(c) I'm devoting way too many written words to a small moment that took place over the course of ten seconds (cf my previous post re Henry James' writing style...).
But yesterday afternoon, I was sitting on a bench outside of Book Court on my old block, revising a short story. This shabbily dressed guy comes up to me, waving a bill. "Do you have change for a dollar?" he said. We didn't all grow up in some farm town in Minnesota--when strangers come up to you on the street, more often than not, it's to harass you about something. My first instinctual response was, "No, sorry," yet as I was saying it, I realized he needed change for the parking meter. I started pedaling backwards. "Oh, sorry, I got rid of all my quarters this morning," which was true--I was buying gum at 2:30am that very day at the Korean deli (where I got the KP hookup--the guy threw in some extra chocolates too, which he does each time I frequent his store). Then I started to feel really disappointed in myself. Why was I so quick to stereotype? What happened to, I don't know, a sense of shared humanity, or other blahbiddy blah blah utopian bullsh*t?
I thought about how the guy asking for change maybe had to face this kind of behavior every day, and maybe if he feels sad about life (I should probably mention right about now that he was black, and NO I'm not going to say African-American because (a) I think it's a fake PC term and (b) it's actually a misnomer, because it doesn't include those of West Indian or Caribbean descent, who do NOT identify with the term AA).
I thought about heuristics, which are essentially these mechanisms people rely on to quickly make decisions, based on our personal (and often repeated) experiences. Whether they're accurate or not is a whole different story. (cf Nobel prize winning social psychologist Daniel Kahneman.) I also thought about stereotype threat, and how there's this computer "game" study where different (colored) people's faces pop up on the screen, and you're supposed to pick which +/- adjective would describe them (cf implicit association test). You are "primed" with +/- details about the particular ethnic group beforehand (like, Nelson Mandela, W.E.B. duBois, MLK; VS. Tupac, drugs, violence, etc).
Then I thought, well, people who don't know me probably make the same assumptions about me--e.g., playing the piano, driving badly, being good with numbers (all of which, funny enough, are true).
Anyway: does this make me a racist? Probably. Am I still disappointed with myself for being so quick to judge? Yes. But I think it's also what--for better or for worse--makes me a New Yorker, and not some tweed blazered academic from the midwest, sitting in an ivory tower. Because let's say I did reach for my wallet while sitting on that bench, thinking, sure, I'll gladly help you out. And what if 9 times out of 10 it's a normal person, but that one time it's not, the person you're trying to help makes a grab for your wallet? I don't really know the answer to this one, but feel free to adjust your previously held positive judgments of me...
Maybe if any of you guys have any related experiences you want to share, I'd love to read your comments.
(photo courtesy of TheSituationistFiles.Wordpress.com)
Anyhoo.
This post is rather hard for me to write, because it not only:
(a) tackles a sensitive subject
(b) it makes me come off as an asshole/bigot/jerk and
(c) I'm devoting way too many written words to a small moment that took place over the course of ten seconds (cf my previous post re Henry James' writing style...).
But yesterday afternoon, I was sitting on a bench outside of Book Court on my old block, revising a short story. This shabbily dressed guy comes up to me, waving a bill. "Do you have change for a dollar?" he said. We didn't all grow up in some farm town in Minnesota--when strangers come up to you on the street, more often than not, it's to harass you about something. My first instinctual response was, "No, sorry," yet as I was saying it, I realized he needed change for the parking meter. I started pedaling backwards. "Oh, sorry, I got rid of all my quarters this morning," which was true--I was buying gum at 2:30am that very day at the Korean deli (where I got the KP hookup--the guy threw in some extra chocolates too, which he does each time I frequent his store). Then I started to feel really disappointed in myself. Why was I so quick to stereotype? What happened to, I don't know, a sense of shared humanity, or other blahbiddy blah blah utopian bullsh*t?
I thought about how the guy asking for change maybe had to face this kind of behavior every day, and maybe if he feels sad about life (I should probably mention right about now that he was black, and NO I'm not going to say African-American because (a) I think it's a fake PC term and (b) it's actually a misnomer, because it doesn't include those of West Indian or Caribbean descent, who do NOT identify with the term AA).
I thought about heuristics, which are essentially these mechanisms people rely on to quickly make decisions, based on our personal (and often repeated) experiences. Whether they're accurate or not is a whole different story. (cf Nobel prize winning social psychologist Daniel Kahneman.) I also thought about stereotype threat, and how there's this computer "game" study where different (colored) people's faces pop up on the screen, and you're supposed to pick which +/- adjective would describe them (cf implicit association test). You are "primed" with +/- details about the particular ethnic group beforehand (like, Nelson Mandela, W.E.B. duBois, MLK; VS. Tupac, drugs, violence, etc).
Then I thought, well, people who don't know me probably make the same assumptions about me--e.g., playing the piano, driving badly, being good with numbers (all of which, funny enough, are true).
Anyway: does this make me a racist? Probably. Am I still disappointed with myself for being so quick to judge? Yes. But I think it's also what--for better or for worse--makes me a New Yorker, and not some tweed blazered academic from the midwest, sitting in an ivory tower. Because let's say I did reach for my wallet while sitting on that bench, thinking, sure, I'll gladly help you out. And what if 9 times out of 10 it's a normal person, but that one time it's not, the person you're trying to help makes a grab for your wallet? I don't really know the answer to this one, but feel free to adjust your previously held positive judgments of me...
Maybe if any of you guys have any related experiences you want to share, I'd love to read your comments.
(photo courtesy of TheSituationistFiles.Wordpress.com)
Monday, November 24, 2008
...Talking with Myself...
I have a problem: I've started talking to myself. Okay, it's been a long time coming. But as I was walking through the theology library today, I noticed I started voicing aloud the titles of the journals along the wall. "Ministry of..." I mumbled to myself as I walked along. As I sat in the corral in a starkly quiet room, I said--not just in my head, but aloud, "Oh God" or "I hate...myself, no wait--" or sometimes I will just insert random people's names.
Why do I do this? Am I going crazy? Yes, maybe a little. More likely it's because I'm replaying all of the cringeworthy moments in my head, thinking about dumb things I've said or have been said to me, and feeling badly about myself. Freud tells us we relive our past/trauma through repetition; I just relive humiliating snapshots of my life, and then to cope with it, my mouth seems to open involuntarily.
E.g., Two weeks ago, I was rushing to open the door for my wheelchaired classmate, and I tripped on the stairs--in front of everyone in the bar (and I was stone cold sober--not one drop of liquor had touched my lips), and I lose my shoe, and I abandon my shoe to go grab the door for the kid in the wheelchair. Then another classmate comes right behind me and hands me my shoe. As I was doing work in the library, I held my hands to my face and said, "Oh God! I hate--" and then I had a moment of reliving that embarrassment, and then I had a new moment of embarrassment because there were a couple of people in the library and they all probably heard me talk to myself.
It's the verbal equivalent of clenching my teeth at night. Which I do. Which is why my dentist tells me I have so many cavities--I'm grinding my teeth down to nothing.
Annie, while you search for a solution for both your smoke alarm and your tangled necklaces, if anyone can offer a remedy for this annoying verbal tic--maybe I have Tourette's? There's this literary critic named Eve Sedgwick, and she talks about how a writer like Henry James--who, if you've ever read him, rambles on, and on, and ON as he describes one moment that in real time is only 10 seconds long--is kind of anally retentive--he hoards all of these wasteful bits that get back-loaded up within him (get it?). I in no way mean I'm anywhere on the same playing field as James (have you read his stuff? Economy does not a James novel make), but this "anal" reading of literature certainly gave me something to think about.
Well, off to NY Wed morn. Am trying to pack in all of my work before I leave, so this may (or may not) be my last post before T-day.
Toodles!
Why do I do this? Am I going crazy? Yes, maybe a little. More likely it's because I'm replaying all of the cringeworthy moments in my head, thinking about dumb things I've said or have been said to me, and feeling badly about myself. Freud tells us we relive our past/trauma through repetition; I just relive humiliating snapshots of my life, and then to cope with it, my mouth seems to open involuntarily.
E.g., Two weeks ago, I was rushing to open the door for my wheelchaired classmate, and I tripped on the stairs--in front of everyone in the bar (and I was stone cold sober--not one drop of liquor had touched my lips), and I lose my shoe, and I abandon my shoe to go grab the door for the kid in the wheelchair. Then another classmate comes right behind me and hands me my shoe. As I was doing work in the library, I held my hands to my face and said, "Oh God! I hate--" and then I had a moment of reliving that embarrassment, and then I had a new moment of embarrassment because there were a couple of people in the library and they all probably heard me talk to myself.
It's the verbal equivalent of clenching my teeth at night. Which I do. Which is why my dentist tells me I have so many cavities--I'm grinding my teeth down to nothing.
Annie, while you search for a solution for both your smoke alarm and your tangled necklaces, if anyone can offer a remedy for this annoying verbal tic--maybe I have Tourette's? There's this literary critic named Eve Sedgwick, and she talks about how a writer like Henry James--who, if you've ever read him, rambles on, and on, and ON as he describes one moment that in real time is only 10 seconds long--is kind of anally retentive--he hoards all of these wasteful bits that get back-loaded up within him (get it?). I in no way mean I'm anywhere on the same playing field as James (have you read his stuff? Economy does not a James novel make), but this "anal" reading of literature certainly gave me something to think about.
Well, off to NY Wed morn. Am trying to pack in all of my work before I leave, so this may (or may not) be my last post before T-day.
Toodles!
monday monday
first, i have to present this and confess...
... that i brutally attacked my smoke alarm last night. you may not believe this, but the thing is still actually attached to the wall. underneath is a pot-holder, which i nestled into a space (after yanking the top part of the alarm off) to pad any remaining smoke-smell, but also... well, i dont know why. i was frustrated, and i forgot about it, and i cut my hand open in the fiasco. in fact, i didnt even realize where that pot holder was until about 15 minutes later when i had to take my roasting eggplant out of the oven. go figure.
this morning i had a doctors appt over at mount sinai, miami beach edition. they told me on the phone how to get there, and i left 35 minutes for a 10 minute drive, but i still barely made it on time. it was a hugeeeee complex, which i guess in retrospect is normal for a hospital (come on annie), but i wasnt really expecting it to be so complicated. i parked first at the "foundation" building, which is apparently just offices; then got lost at a service entrance; then made it to the real complex, but had to back out of a parking area because it was too far away and almost hit the person behind me (of course i didnt look before i put the car in reverse); then i finally made it to a parking garage, where i had to PAY $5 to park. i mean, what??? of course, i also happened to park as far away from the building where i needed to be as possible, and instead, walked into the wrong entrance. luckily, i found some guy in blue scrubs and asked him how to get to the "green pavillion" (no, the place is NOT color coordinated, although that would help- its just donors' names, so there is no rhyme or reason to the place). he took me through some top-secret "MEDICAL PERSONNEL ONLY" doors, which i was a little hesitant about, but hey, you know. he was wearing scrubs. wholly exciting.
when i signed up with this doctor, i thought, oh how nice, she is affiliated with mt sinai, like heather(!) and thats good, you know, a hospital, thats safe. but when i was there, it kind of freaked me out. like, tons of people on stretchers going along the hall, to radiation, or surgery, or whatever, and then theres me, looking like a total nerd in khakis (please, i know, its my second time ever wearing these pants in like 3 years) and a button down shirt and a sweater and gold shoes, with my patent leather barneys handbag, looking around for my drs office. i was probably everything these people hated- healthy and annoyingly going to work. the whole scene was disturbing. not to mention, im sure, full of germs. but you know, it does make you appreciate not being sick, having your health, and thankful that you are not in the hospital to visit a sick friend or relative, so, in retrospect, it wasnt a horrible thing.
in fact, once i got into the drs office, all calamity stopped, i was wonderful, she was wonderful, and it was a great experience overall. i wont go into drs office details since (a) no one really wants to hear about that and (b) its gross/boring, but still. i was also elated that she noticed i took vitamins and calcium supplements. she was like my bff! she actually said, "after reading your chart, i thought maybe you were in the medical profession!". i mean.... best compliment ever. (if only she knew how much artificial cool whip i go through in a week... maybe we wouldnt be besties after all). on second thought, you know what?! im not ashamed. they should add calcium to this shit, then everyone could eat it in relative-peace, sans any risk of osteoporosis.
another random musing here. you know when you do pilates or yoga and the instructor says something like, "move back your sits bones." they arent really talking about any bone involving sits. they are talking about the fat on your butt, your buttocks. they are saying, pull back your flabby butt so you can sit upright. i mean, i get it, "sits bones" sounds better, but i always feel like im a small child and they are pacifying me. i guess theres really no other way to say it without making the ballerinas doing pilates feel even worse about their enormous fat selves, but still.
i have a serious problem, also, that i would like to bring to light. i dont know how to organize my necklaces. this isnt a joke. if you have a way of hanging them in some way so that they dont get all tangled, i need to know. i currently am working on unknotting three of my favorite necklaces and its killing me that i cant wear any of them. no matter what i do... no avail. i considered hanging some from my light fixtures in the bathroom, but then thought better against it (im sure there would be some burning involved, or breaking the light fixture, or whatever. believe me, if it could happen, im sure it would). so... help a sister out here. with minimal wall damage.
also, best discovery ever? using my photo printer to actually print photos! it is so easy & the pictures have been coming out very well. so now you can all know about how i am making myself a little ongoing framing-center, so i can hang pictures of all of you in my house and always have the buddies around. pretty nice huh?
ughghg the airconditioning in here is psycho. i have to go put on long sleeves. did i just drink coffee tonight without knowing it? i need to relax. time to turn off the slutty desperate real life housewives of the o.c. and read about laura bush's pseudo-fictionalized life.
xoxo
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Way, Way Too Late a Night...
I got home at 4am last night. Just me. Where was Morgan? Fast asleep. For whatever reason, it seemed like a good idea to me to stay at this party till 4, just as it seemed like a good idea to not leave the party at 2am when my roommate Sheila, her friend, and Morgan were ready to take off. "Go on without me!" I called out, waving my bottle of Victory HopDevil.
We started the evening at The Elephant Walk, a French-Cambodian restaurant literally right next door to me. I was under the impression that it was a French-Cambodian fusion; alas, they had two separate menus-Cambodian and French. We shared this interesting appetizer that was like a coconut milk curry soup with ground pork, served with these crunchy sweet rice puff thingamabobs. I then ordered a shrimp with a light Cambodian satay sauce, and Morgan got the braised short ribs with noodles. I forgot to take pictures until after we were half-way done; by that point, our dishes looked a little gross. The food was good--it was a little pricey, I think, for what it was worth, but Morgan thought it was pretty comparable to NY prices. Maybe I've already started to change without realizing.
We stopped off at Audubon Circle for a drink, where we befriended the bartender, who happened to be Korean. I saw him there once before when I was having drinks with my friend Vince (which I blogged about earlier this month).
We told him the bartender were just staying for one drink, as we were heading out to a party thereafter. Anyway, he was really nice--he did a little impromptu wine tasting for Morgan, and then--apropos of nothing--he mixed up some free shots for us. "Thanks--what's in it?" we asked.
"I'm not telling you," he said. "But it's called a bla-ma--'blackout, makeout.' After you drink this, you'll go to the party and make out in the corner...with a guy." (I think he actually meant, "with each other.")
Kind of odd for a bartender to say, but hell--a free drink is a free drink.
Morgan and I downed the proffered shots; it tasted like Robitussin.
We then went to the party of this kid in the English PhD program. He happened to live 3 blocks from our apt, so it was very convenient. "This is just like a New York party," Morgan said, referring to the fact that it was all women and few men. One of the kids who lived there gave us a tour of the 5-bedroom apartment--it looked very pre-war chic. The apt even had a porch, which was actually very spacious. We asked him if they ever BBQ'd, but he said the apt next to them tried to do that over the summer and burned down their whole unit, and one of the tenants died. Needless to say, since then no one's been allowed to BBQ. Apparently the guy's ghost still haunts the next door apt. How tragic!
I swear, this pose seemed like a good idea at the time, once again demonstrating my poor judgment.
Anyway, I took about five billion more photos, and for some reason that eludes me, I decided to stay on until about 4am, where I was one of a handful of people left (WHY do I do this?). Then my friend Iain (who was hosting the party) got a call on his cell--it was Morgan. When he put me on the phone, she said she was worried, and I realized it was time to pack it up, pack it in. Thanks, Mom! No, but for real, I was very touched by the lengths at which Morgan went to track down his number, and to make sure I'd be getting home okay.
Okay, after thinking about it some more, I realized why I stayed till so late. It's because I work my ass off during the week--library, gym, library, home. That's it. So on the (increasingly more prevalent) opportunities to go out, I guess I want to "maximize" my fun-ness, just like I try to maximize my efficiency during the week.
I fell into bed by about a quarter after four, woke up at ten thirty, and then we met Christine and Sydney!!! for brunch. When we told them about Morgan's late night and my even later one, they shook their heads, grinning. "You single girls!" they said.
After a full day of not getting any work done, I now realize I am dead meat for class. So it goes!
We started the evening at The Elephant Walk, a French-Cambodian restaurant literally right next door to me. I was under the impression that it was a French-Cambodian fusion; alas, they had two separate menus-Cambodian and French. We shared this interesting appetizer that was like a coconut milk curry soup with ground pork, served with these crunchy sweet rice puff thingamabobs. I then ordered a shrimp with a light Cambodian satay sauce, and Morgan got the braised short ribs with noodles. I forgot to take pictures until after we were half-way done; by that point, our dishes looked a little gross. The food was good--it was a little pricey, I think, for what it was worth, but Morgan thought it was pretty comparable to NY prices. Maybe I've already started to change without realizing.
We stopped off at Audubon Circle for a drink, where we befriended the bartender, who happened to be Korean. I saw him there once before when I was having drinks with my friend Vince (which I blogged about earlier this month).
We told him the bartender were just staying for one drink, as we were heading out to a party thereafter. Anyway, he was really nice--he did a little impromptu wine tasting for Morgan, and then--apropos of nothing--he mixed up some free shots for us. "Thanks--what's in it?" we asked.
"I'm not telling you," he said. "But it's called a bla-ma--'blackout, makeout.' After you drink this, you'll go to the party and make out in the corner...with a guy." (I think he actually meant, "with each other.")
Kind of odd for a bartender to say, but hell--a free drink is a free drink.
Morgan and I downed the proffered shots; it tasted like Robitussin.
We then went to the party of this kid in the English PhD program. He happened to live 3 blocks from our apt, so it was very convenient. "This is just like a New York party," Morgan said, referring to the fact that it was all women and few men. One of the kids who lived there gave us a tour of the 5-bedroom apartment--it looked very pre-war chic. The apt even had a porch, which was actually very spacious. We asked him if they ever BBQ'd, but he said the apt next to them tried to do that over the summer and burned down their whole unit, and one of the tenants died. Needless to say, since then no one's been allowed to BBQ. Apparently the guy's ghost still haunts the next door apt. How tragic!
I swear, this pose seemed like a good idea at the time, once again demonstrating my poor judgment.
Anyway, I took about five billion more photos, and for some reason that eludes me, I decided to stay on until about 4am, where I was one of a handful of people left (WHY do I do this?). Then my friend Iain (who was hosting the party) got a call on his cell--it was Morgan. When he put me on the phone, she said she was worried, and I realized it was time to pack it up, pack it in. Thanks, Mom! No, but for real, I was very touched by the lengths at which Morgan went to track down his number, and to make sure I'd be getting home okay.
Okay, after thinking about it some more, I realized why I stayed till so late. It's because I work my ass off during the week--library, gym, library, home. That's it. So on the (increasingly more prevalent) opportunities to go out, I guess I want to "maximize" my fun-ness, just like I try to maximize my efficiency during the week.
I fell into bed by about a quarter after four, woke up at ten thirty, and then we met Christine and Sydney!!! for brunch. When we told them about Morgan's late night and my even later one, they shook their heads, grinning. "You single girls!" they said.
After a full day of not getting any work done, I now realize I am dead meat for class. So it goes!
wind-surf-sailing and other musings
everyone outside is doing it. walking down the beach, looking onto the water, you can see it: tons of people with kite-like sails flying high overhead, connected to their torso by a vest-contraption, using the sail & wind to surf the waves. pretty cool, and it looks beautiful in the sky as well. apparently this is what we do in miami when it gets windy in "winter". i have already started seeing christmas decorations up around, last night when we were driving to the opera, we passed by a target that had all the palm trees outside decked in holiday xmas lights. dazzling, but surreal. it cant really feel like any holiday at all when im wearing a sundress to the market. (believe you me, there was still a wrap involved, but purely for those airconditioned-supermarket-moments).
ive recently started listening to episodes of 'this american life' when i go for runs- it makes the time fly by and is always very entertaining. yesterday, for the first time, i listened to music instead which was almost as enjoyable. somehow, ira glass's voice just gets me through it so much easier though. i highly recommend listening to the pod-casts while doing anything- commuting, walking, cleaning your house, whatever. yesterday i also did my longest run ever: 9 & 1/4 miles. it was kind of long, i must say, and slightly painful. i had to massage my poor little foot afterwards to stop it from cramping up. (and people say running is good for you?)
last night we went to a delicious restaurant in miami's design district, called michaels genuine food & drink. it was almost like being back in new york: the waiters looked bohemian-esque, with square glasses and scruff. a sigh of relief. after consuming delicious bits of braised octopus with a tomato-bean salad, and pork belly over kimchee, we headed out to see 'la traviata'. watching the party scenes, where all the ladies are dressed in huge bustling dresses, and the men are in tuxedoes and capes, and everyone is wearing little white gloves- it made me truly wish we lived in the 1850s. sadly, it would also mean that people would still die of consumption, which is what the lead lady dies of. i dont even know what consumption is. consuming too much goodness while wearing gloves? unheard of! we also made the startling discovery (1) this was the opera julia roberts & richard gere go to see in pretty woman; (2) julia roberts plays a prostitute in pretty woman (3) la traviata is about a prostitute with a heart of gold who falls in love. how brilliant is that? pretty woman has never seemed more intelligent that it did at that moment.
just back from my little farmers market with another similar-bounty as last week. i tell you, i could eat eggplant and tomatoes every day and never get sick of them, although, i do wish there were a little more variety. cauliflower maybe? i guess i cant be picky knowing that it is local and the only other state that i know of that still can produce like that is california. then again, they have much more frozen yogurt in california, so, you know, much greater advantage than here. in fact, tangentially, i havent had frozen yogurt since leaving new york. maybe its a new york-california centric thing, but i was shocked to learn there are actually 2 froyo places here-- i just dont have the energy to drive 20 minutes to get to one. oh, the life of a lazy suburban-city dweller. the best and the worst.
somehow this post turned into more rambling than intended, so i think its time to finish my coffee and head out for another run. perhaps it will put my head on straight again. (at the very least, it will allow ira glass to serenade me).
xo
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Snapshots Along the Freedom Trail
Hey guys,
Sorry for this awkward layout, but blogspot just changed their photo uploading function and I can't really give captions to each photo. Well, I could, but it's kind of annoying and there's a bunch of random code.
Anyhoo, Morgan and I did the Freedom Trail yesterday, despite the fact that it was 26 degrees, PLUS a wind chill; real feel temp was like 14 degrees. Fahrenheit. We were frozen by the end of the day.
Anyway, Morgan being the history buff that she is, and now the architectural history buff, began to point out Greek revival vs Federalist houses. Something about pediments and columns for the former, and rounded arches and no stoops for the latter. Then we fed her obsession with graveyards (WHO KNEW?!) at the Granary Burial Ground, which houses the decaying bodies of Paul Revere, Sam Adams, and John Hancock. Also John Hancock's servants were buried right next to him, but of course they got smaller headstones. Some of these photos might be blasphemous, but so it goes.
H
Morgan in front of John Kerry's 10million dollar house.
The poshest looking 7-Eleven ever. (Charles St, Beacon Hill)
PAUL REVERE HOUSE
Sorry for this awkward layout, but blogspot just changed their photo uploading function and I can't really give captions to each photo. Well, I could, but it's kind of annoying and there's a bunch of random code.
Anyhoo, Morgan and I did the Freedom Trail yesterday, despite the fact that it was 26 degrees, PLUS a wind chill; real feel temp was like 14 degrees. Fahrenheit. We were frozen by the end of the day.
Anyway, Morgan being the history buff that she is, and now the architectural history buff, began to point out Greek revival vs Federalist houses. Something about pediments and columns for the former, and rounded arches and no stoops for the latter. Then we fed her obsession with graveyards (WHO KNEW?!) at the Granary Burial Ground, which houses the decaying bodies of Paul Revere, Sam Adams, and John Hancock. Also John Hancock's servants were buried right next to him, but of course they got smaller headstones. Some of these photos might be blasphemous, but so it goes.
H
Morgan in front of John Kerry's 10million dollar house.
The poshest looking 7-Eleven ever. (Charles St, Beacon Hill)
PAUL REVERE HOUSE
hangover head
im not quite sure how it is possible, being that i only had two glasses of wine last night post-work, but my head is borderline exploding right about now. yesterday, although i was steadfastly trying to stay at work and finish up a long detailed involved memo, two of my coworkers were heading out as well, and asked me to join them for happy hour. one of the funniest things about living somewhere where everyone drives, is the need to "follow" the leader in cars, especially when you have no idea where you are going. are they taking a right turn? then take a right turn! are they changing lanes? then change lanes! and then that sneaky white car gets in front of you, and somehow you have to cut lanes and pass them again. more complicated, but kind of fun, like a game of tag.
predictably, our drinks last night were in a hotel, in a part of miami called "brickell." its full of yuppies in our general age range, living in huge condo buildings, with bars/restaurants oftentimes occupying the first floor of office buildings- think midtownish? but of course, more spread out. the hotel bar was beautiful-- they all usually are-- and had a great view of miami and the ocean. drinks always seem to be at these hotels: they smell nice, they have bad service, great views and furniture, and overpriced drinks. while they had some minor happy hour (one drink for $6 instead of the normal 12 or 15), i couldnt bear to drink a cosmo. i know, i know, they just feel so outdatedly desperate. no offense.
this morning, waking up with the headache, was brutal, but like most saturdays, i forced myself to make coffee, put on the bathing suit, and towel up down to the beach. it was horribly windy and cold. i know, i know; a grand old 74 degrees isnt cold to most of you right about now, but while wearing next to nothing, laying down, with no protective cover, and harsh multi-directional winds blowing everywhere-- well, its a bit chilly. the sun came out for a bit, so i bathed like a little kitten in the warmth. i really couldnt bare not to, being that i am becoming a tanorexic. sick right? i wear sunblock of course and dont get burnt- but its just such a wonderful feeling always being on the beach. i feel like the bourgeousie.
speaking of, there was a bunch of middle aged women at the beach right near me- they must live/rent at the "canyon ranch" spa and "luxury living" building thats at the end of my block. this is one of those buildings that have permanent beach-lounge chairs set up, with nice cushions, and bright blue umbrellas, down along the beach. also - predictably -- there is a young latin american man who walks back and forth on this strip of beach, getting the ladies towels, beverages, sunblock, or putting up umbrellas, moving lounge chairs, etc. i find it so antithetical to beach life. then again, i got a hoot out of seeing all these women giggling and catching up-- they surely sounded like new york jews recovering for the winter-- just being so LOUD in a slightly annoying but also endearing way. it made me think, awww, its kind of like, what maybe me and *my* girls will be like one day. staying at expensive places. having crushes on the young latin american men that we make bend over and move chairs for us. well.. ok, probably not like that, since its oddly colonial and dehumanizing, but you know what i mean.
tonight the coworkers & i are having dinner & heading out to see la traviata, the opera! i was delighted to hear that they were into it, since its one of those things i usually either go to with my mom or dad, or, although not recently, in central park with copious amounts of wine. although i already have an aching pit in my stomach that the weekend is going to be over too soon, i also am extremely excited to come home and see everyone, relax-- even wear a coat. i know, what am i thinking? at least then i might think its not perpetually summertime in other places. (i feel slightly deluded in that sense).
otherwise i feel at a loss generally of talking points. maybe i can resume later. i feel like today is extremely vapid but im ok with that. and good news-- the rash is gone! off for a run. patty- i hope you & morgan are having a wonderful time in the town of beans.
xo
Friday, November 21, 2008
Morgan's coming today! Yay!
I finished revising my short story; now I'm in a mad rush to shower from the gym, eat dinner, clean my apt, meet my friend Hahn for a drink, then pick up Morgan at South Station. More TK!
cheers, Patty
cheers, Patty
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
oh no you didnt
i cant believe you went there patty p. im going to ignore the first half of your post, if you dont mind. instead, i will go back to talking to my dad on the phone (whattup papa b!) and watching l.a. story.
otherwise? eating turkey -- 7 day countdown!!!
xo
Snatches and Trimming
Hey Annie,
Vaginal cream??? Oh man, that sucks. My question, though, is whether you bought the vaginal cream thinking it was the anti-itch cream for your skin, or whether you mistakenly grabbed your pre-existing vag cream... Or perhaps some things are better left unsaid.
Anyway, I am trying my best to plow through as much work as possible before the weekend! Morgan is coming to town (WHOOP WHOOP!), and we are going to have brunch with Sydney and possibly the newly married Christine. I've spent the past two days sitting in classes taught by my classmates, taking notes so I can be all prepped for next semester, when I teach a class of undergrads all by myself! Exciting. At the same time, I hope I don't get really annoying students who come to ALL of my office hours, etc etc.
I spent the past 7 hours cutting 9 pages of my writing. I have a story that's 33 pages, and my instructor Allegra tells me she not only wants me to add scenes between the dad and the uncle, but she wants me to cut the whole thing down to 20 pages. I've heard the expression "Kill your darlings" and I know you have to do that as a writer, but (now I'm about to say something extremely writerly and pretentious) I feel like my narrative voice is being squelched! Why CAN'T I use the second person, addressing the reader? Why can't I "anthropologize" the Korean culture, saying things like "All Korean women suffered from the same affliction--a flat butt" or "The Korean language could be relied on for such hyperbolic turns of phrase..."? Doesn't David Sedaris do it? Why the heck not? Okay, it's not the most stellar of writing, but I'm feeling extremely suppressed. And I don't understand why it's going to take me the better part of a week to trim my work. This is supposed to be the easy part!
$#&*@!$*!!!
Vaginal cream??? Oh man, that sucks. My question, though, is whether you bought the vaginal cream thinking it was the anti-itch cream for your skin, or whether you mistakenly grabbed your pre-existing vag cream... Or perhaps some things are better left unsaid.
Anyway, I am trying my best to plow through as much work as possible before the weekend! Morgan is coming to town (WHOOP WHOOP!), and we are going to have brunch with Sydney and possibly the newly married Christine. I've spent the past two days sitting in classes taught by my classmates, taking notes so I can be all prepped for next semester, when I teach a class of undergrads all by myself! Exciting. At the same time, I hope I don't get really annoying students who come to ALL of my office hours, etc etc.
I spent the past 7 hours cutting 9 pages of my writing. I have a story that's 33 pages, and my instructor Allegra tells me she not only wants me to add scenes between the dad and the uncle, but she wants me to cut the whole thing down to 20 pages. I've heard the expression "Kill your darlings" and I know you have to do that as a writer, but (now I'm about to say something extremely writerly and pretentious) I feel like my narrative voice is being squelched! Why CAN'T I use the second person, addressing the reader? Why can't I "anthropologize" the Korean culture, saying things like "All Korean women suffered from the same affliction--a flat butt" or "The Korean language could be relied on for such hyperbolic turns of phrase..."? Doesn't David Sedaris do it? Why the heck not? Okay, it's not the most stellar of writing, but I'm feeling extremely suppressed. And I don't understand why it's going to take me the better part of a week to trim my work. This is supposed to be the easy part!
$#&*@!$*!!!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
a medicinal story & e.t.c.
im pretty pooped so am going to try & keep this short... you all know about this little rash ive had for the past week and a half, and recently i started putting this amazing lavender-tea tree oil salve that i have on it, whenever the desire to scratch arises. it has been incredibly soothing. plus, it feels great to constantly be moisturizing yourself. try it sometime. i mean, so long as you have your own office and no one will wonder why you keep putting lotion all over your left shoulder, every 15 minutes.
but earlier this evening, when i got back from my run, i was so grossed out by one portion of my arm (the upper left, on the back of my arm)- because there were these 3 small welt-like things, like i had just been bitten by some rabid mosquitos or something. i knew they were part of whatever allergic reaction ive been dealing with, so i wasnt troubled by them or anything- i was just grossed out you know? so i open my medicine cabinet, grab this bottle that says "anti itch cream" and start slathering it all over my arms, then my neck-- anywhere else i see bumps and/or am itchy. after rubbing it, i think to myself, hmmm this doesnt smell like calamine lotion or anything--- and go to pick the bottle up. in very small print it says "compare to extra strength vagasil".
it was just too classic for words. for a brief moment, i thought, oh no! thats gross! but then i realized the smell it gave off was faintly of rose, and i figured, hey, if you can put this in your nether regions, then im sure it must be safe for arms! (i also amuzingly thought i was the kind of person that, if a friend or child or whomever was itchy and i had that cream, i would make them use it without disclosing what it was really for. i mean, its practical right?).
other than that, the only things really getting me through this week are, in no apparent order,
(1) my turkey chili
(2) knowing thanksgiving is next week
(3) the highly amuzing "news" in miami that we are experiencing a "cold front" that is dropping the temperature tonight to an all time LOW of... 52 degrees.
(yes, suckers, check that one out. )
today excitingly i also got my official 'bar passing' notice in the mail. it is with my pleasure to let you know that i have been "certified to the first department commission on character and fitness." so if and when i put together all my affidavits and letters and whatever else they require to review me, you all will be the first to know. i am expecting it to take about a year before they officially admit me, so we can all celebrate then in *person*.
oh geez, i almost forgot. i have bad news. i am officially changing my license on friday to become a floridian. im not that into it either, but i figured, the next time i get pulled over by a cop, he might not be of the young swaggering latino gentlemanly type, but of the angry bitter version, and not let me get away with still having a nys license whilst living here. so, over a month late, i will go to the dmv and floridize myself. floridianize myself? floridazzle myself? i dont know. its hopeless. even more hopeless is knowing that i will have to wait in line at the nys dmv sometime in the coming year to change it all back. this will hopefully mean, however, that i will no longer have a license picture from age 19 (holler back morgan!) where people do not recognize me and then after finally convicing them that yes, that was me, they say "i like you with short hair" as if i just changed it. thanks guys, thanks. with that, i bid thee adieu.
xoxo
but earlier this evening, when i got back from my run, i was so grossed out by one portion of my arm (the upper left, on the back of my arm)- because there were these 3 small welt-like things, like i had just been bitten by some rabid mosquitos or something. i knew they were part of whatever allergic reaction ive been dealing with, so i wasnt troubled by them or anything- i was just grossed out you know? so i open my medicine cabinet, grab this bottle that says "anti itch cream" and start slathering it all over my arms, then my neck-- anywhere else i see bumps and/or am itchy. after rubbing it, i think to myself, hmmm this doesnt smell like calamine lotion or anything--- and go to pick the bottle up. in very small print it says "compare to extra strength vagasil".
it was just too classic for words. for a brief moment, i thought, oh no! thats gross! but then i realized the smell it gave off was faintly of rose, and i figured, hey, if you can put this in your nether regions, then im sure it must be safe for arms! (i also amuzingly thought i was the kind of person that, if a friend or child or whomever was itchy and i had that cream, i would make them use it without disclosing what it was really for. i mean, its practical right?).
other than that, the only things really getting me through this week are, in no apparent order,
(1) my turkey chili
(2) knowing thanksgiving is next week
(3) the highly amuzing "news" in miami that we are experiencing a "cold front" that is dropping the temperature tonight to an all time LOW of... 52 degrees.
(yes, suckers, check that one out. )
today excitingly i also got my official 'bar passing' notice in the mail. it is with my pleasure to let you know that i have been "certified to the first department commission on character and fitness." so if and when i put together all my affidavits and letters and whatever else they require to review me, you all will be the first to know. i am expecting it to take about a year before they officially admit me, so we can all celebrate then in *person*.
oh geez, i almost forgot. i have bad news. i am officially changing my license on friday to become a floridian. im not that into it either, but i figured, the next time i get pulled over by a cop, he might not be of the young swaggering latino gentlemanly type, but of the angry bitter version, and not let me get away with still having a nys license whilst living here. so, over a month late, i will go to the dmv and floridize myself. floridianize myself? floridazzle myself? i dont know. its hopeless. even more hopeless is knowing that i will have to wait in line at the nys dmv sometime in the coming year to change it all back. this will hopefully mean, however, that i will no longer have a license picture from age 19 (holler back morgan!) where people do not recognize me and then after finally convicing them that yes, that was me, they say "i like you with short hair" as if i just changed it. thanks guys, thanks. with that, i bid thee adieu.
xoxo
Monday, November 17, 2008
Brrr--It's Getting Cold Round These Parts!
After the freakishly wet, freakishly warm front of Saturday, Boston has officially become cold. Tonight's getting down to 27 degrees--can you freakin believe--and tomorrow's high is 40, plus wind chill. I had a fairly mediocre day today. I put myself to bed last night at 12:30, yet I slept until almost 11am this morning. I have no idea why I was so tired. Oh wait, actually I do--I was making up for Saturday night. But even still--that was kind of ridiculous. I wrestled with BU Dental School on the phone all morning (rather, what was left of the morning), trying to figure out if I should do the student dental plan--$300 for the year, but it covers two $50 cleanings and a mandatory X-ray consultation. Meanwhile, I have crazy work I need to get done on one of my teeth, which will cost me $500-1000. So I emailed my dentist back in NY (we are on a first-name, emailing basis because I've parted with thousands of dollars to him) to see if I could try to cram in all of my work over Xmas break (he charges 3x what the dental school charges, however).
Anyway, I had my revision workshop with Allegra Goodman (she walks the fine line between literary and commercial fiction, and I really admire her writing), ran 3 miles at the gym, lifted some free weights, came home, showered, heated up a Trader Joe's burrito, had some microwave/steamed brussel sprouts, and headed to the library. Where I'm at now. Actually, I just ran out in the freezing cold--sans jacket--to buy a can of diet Pepsi so I could resume revisions on this short story I'm working on...it's called "Pound Foolish" and it's about these two cousins that are kind of in competition. The narrator comes from the kind of penny-pinching family that eats bruised apples and dented cans of tuna fish, and has to wear hand-me-down clothes, while her cousin lives in this huge house in Long Island, and gets as many My Little Pony dolls as her heart desires, and she's kind of JAPpy (even though she's Korean). They go to the mall together (but not like the Canadian pop star "Robin Sparkles'" hit song "Let's Go to the Mall"), and the cousin buys all of this expensive BCBG clothing, while the narrator looks on (she don't got her parents' credit cards to burn). Also, the narrator is super jealous of her cousin because she's prettier, cooler, and more popular, and she gets invited to more bar/bat mitzvah's then she does, and has lots of boyfriends. But in actuality, the cousin is also jealous of the narrator because she's smarter, and her parents don't fight all the time, etc etc.
God, I just bored myself with that description. Needless to say, most of my writing is a thinly veiled account of my own life, because it's just SO interesting that it deserves to be made into literature. Sheesh.
Well, back to plugging on--wish me luck!
Anyway, I had my revision workshop with Allegra Goodman (she walks the fine line between literary and commercial fiction, and I really admire her writing), ran 3 miles at the gym, lifted some free weights, came home, showered, heated up a Trader Joe's burrito, had some microwave/steamed brussel sprouts, and headed to the library. Where I'm at now. Actually, I just ran out in the freezing cold--sans jacket--to buy a can of diet Pepsi so I could resume revisions on this short story I'm working on...it's called "Pound Foolish" and it's about these two cousins that are kind of in competition. The narrator comes from the kind of penny-pinching family that eats bruised apples and dented cans of tuna fish, and has to wear hand-me-down clothes, while her cousin lives in this huge house in Long Island, and gets as many My Little Pony dolls as her heart desires, and she's kind of JAPpy (even though she's Korean). They go to the mall together (but not like the Canadian pop star "Robin Sparkles'" hit song "Let's Go to the Mall"), and the cousin buys all of this expensive BCBG clothing, while the narrator looks on (she don't got her parents' credit cards to burn). Also, the narrator is super jealous of her cousin because she's prettier, cooler, and more popular, and she gets invited to more bar/bat mitzvah's then she does, and has lots of boyfriends. But in actuality, the cousin is also jealous of the narrator because she's smarter, and her parents don't fight all the time, etc etc.
God, I just bored myself with that description. Needless to say, most of my writing is a thinly veiled account of my own life, because it's just SO interesting that it deserves to be made into literature. Sheesh.
Well, back to plugging on--wish me luck!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
the "finally" bounty
i too woke up early this morning! i was first planning on going to a running group in hollywood, florida w other people training for the 1/2 marathon (except they are doing the ft lauderdale feb. version), but decided not to set my alarm. i still was up by 8.45, so decided to instead do my own run. i headed out in shorts and a tank top, naturally, but found a *cold* front had moved in. i.e., it was 65 degrees and windy. nonetheless, i braved on. it actually made the run better. for the first time, i brought a bottle of water with me, which i continued to metaphorically pat myself on the back about the whole time. the best part of the run, other than the beauty of the morning, the hot sun, cool breeze, and sparkling ocean, was that i was keeping pace with an older runner for the entire way back (about 4 miles back up the beach). sometimes he would get ahead, pass me, and then i would do the same to him. towards the end, he passed me again, turned to me and said, "great run!". to which i replied the same to him. it really started off the day on a lovely note.
after some laziness, i tackled yet another supposed "farmers market". now now, you know, ive become bitter as the only farm products i ever see down here are grapefruits and lemons/limes, maybe papayas, mangoes, and guava. dont get me wrong, i love that stuff, but sometimes a girl just craves the bounty plenty of union square. so after getting momentarily lost, not being able to take any right turns for several blocks, etc, i finally got to the vagabond market. (read that to see a little crazy miami controversy behind it via the architecture). its a new flea market/farmers market at an old hotel in miami proper, where apparently frank sinatra used to hang. dont ask me. this city is full of that kind of crap.
anyway, after being so franticized by the traffic and getting lost, i was so pleasantly surprised when i walked in and saw a handful (albeit a small handful) of vendors selling farm-fresh-local herbs, eggplant, string beans, lettuce, tomatoes (ALL organic- amazing!), fresh breads, pastries, empanadas (this is miami you know), flowers, and one guy selling top-notch argentinian organic beef. i could barely believe my ears after getting some beautiful eggplants for $2 total, whereby the lady at the stand (she was an older lady who would have been naturally beautiful, but you could tell there was some workage done), handed over a bag of string beans gratis, since she said she didnt want them to go to waste. let me tell you, ive been to my fair share of f-markets, and this has never happened. then i met the tomato guy, who told me all about their natural goodness, where i got 4 farm-fresh beauties for $1. i mean.... where have these people been since sept. 15?? sad to say, the beef was all sold out, but theres always next weekend. below, some photogs of my bounty.
miami finally did me good.i almost put this happy feeling into jeopardy, when i decided to try & hit up the forever-21 up in the aventura neighborhood, which, sadly, was in a mall. even worse? everyone was doing valet parking. i still dont get that. and there were no spots. i trolled around for about 10 minutes, worried the entire time that i was going to get hit since crazy parking lot drivers are really common. i finally managed to get inside the mall, where apparently, it was already december 25th. there was a christmas land, all christmas music playing, full of hundreds of people shopping. (do they know that its only nov. 16????). finally i approached the meca of trashy low-cost fashion, and was so relieved- it was chock full of polyester goods that i could not refuse. i wont waste time discussing, but i must say-- forever 21 outside of ny is much less intimidating, crowded, loud or annoying, PLUS, they had a wholly-separate accessory store where i was able to purchase a hundred more crappy necklaces that i love, and knock-off raybans. i meannnnnnn, happiness is at an all time high over here. all i need is my own science themed bar, i tell you, and id be golden!!
this happiness then projected me right into mopping my entire apt. it is now squeaky clean, there is a pot of turkey-bean chili bubbling on the stove top, and my only regret is that weekends arent longer. my eggplants say, goodnight sunday, and thank you.
xoxo
Only in Boston--Mixing Beer with Chemistry
First off: I should NOT be up this early. If I went to bed at 2:45am, then shouldn't I still be sleeping about now? Last night I attempted to go to the birthday party of this girl in my running group. Operative word: "attempted." My friend Christine (from Swat) and I waited in line for this stupid club called Middlesex Lounge for almost one hour. We were flanked by two groups of douchey frat guys who were shouting over us. So Christine and I decided to suggest that the two groups needn't be separated; if we moved ahead of them, then they could be together. They didn't bite. Anyway, Christine and I are in these little dresses and boots, and it's raining (thankfully it was super warm out), and finally we decided it wasn't even worth it. Neither of us were really into the club scene, and if the frat guys in line with us were any indication of what the inside would be like, then we weren't having it.
On the same block was this really cute-looking bar called Miracle of Science --a science-themed bar where the menu is written in the style of a periodic table. Only in Cambridge. As we started towards the bar, I heard someone shouting out my name. At the back of the line to Middlesex was a group of these guys from my running club. They decided to throw in the towel with us, and we all headed to the bar. It was kind of one of those random nights where things just fell into place. As of 8pm that night I had no idea what my plans were going to be. I had yet to hear back from Vince, I wasn't sure if I should crash this other party, etc etc. Anyway, more people from the running group eventually made their way into the bar, and it ended up being a really fun night. Granted, EVERYONE in the group is either a software engineer or computer programmer, and a little dorky (how apropos, then, that we were drinking in a science-themed bar), but they're all really nice and friendly. I need to stop being so surprised by that--it's not really a novelty.
(Photo courtesy of miracleofscience.us)
Saturday, November 15, 2008
i love saturdays
first, i must admit, im not a big fan of sangria in general. i find it is almost always too sweet a concoction, with not enough hard-core liquor in it. (you know what kind of girl i am: reference my love of hanger bar staten island iced tea- pure vodka baby). although i have had wonderful experiences with it when someone has made it at home, its usually just too cloyish to me.
so of course yesterday was very thrilling to get the good news. we were supposed to be able to find out at about 9am, but the online results website was totally fucked, excuse my language. thankfully i didnt sit there all morning trying- i was in court for several hours before i then went to check. but the website was doing that very-sllooooowwwww-loading thing, where the little circle goes round and round, and eventually times out. it was painful. several hours later, around 2.30, blake IM-ed me and asked if i had passed- to which i responded, i still had no idea! he then got someone to send me the link to yet, another site, where apparently you could check. i cannot even begin to imagine how many angry, crazy law students were calling the NY bar association beginning at 9am on the dot, complaining the the high heavens, yelling, shrieking, pulling out hair. dont be deceived by me, i may appear like a normal person, but believe you me, i went to school with tons of type A psychofaces who would do such a thing. this is similar to the kind of person who would anally complain about anything & everything that was not perfect with an exam or whatnot. (at least i hope you all dont think such things of me!). so i finally got the link, and my heart was about to beat itself right out of my chest, it was so nauseating, i could barely breathe as i typed in my bar code and dob and then pressed return... it took me to another page, with the huge long paragraph that, at the time, i could barely read. actually, i dont think i read it in full at all, because i was just scanning it as quickly as i possibly could- WELL???? pass or fail????? and FINALLY i see the word, "congratulations". they sure do like to keep the suspense up, now dont they? as im sure you can imagine, it was a huge relief, and although many people told me before-and-after that point that they always knew i would pass, ive got to tell you--- there were some moments in the past few months where i would think of one question, just totally hyper focus on some question that i vaguely remembered from the bar, and think, "now.... i think i put answer A, but then i know i changed it to B... and then later went back and changed it to A.... now.... let me see.... was that right?". these things haunt you! so it was a huge relief.
after work then, when someone down the hall suggested happy hour, while i was secretly excited about going home and opening the champagne, ordering some sushi, and basking in my wonderfulness solo, pajama style, i couldnt really refuse drinks with company.
we went of course, to my one and only tikibar on the water, where we sat outside, drank pitchers of bass, and reveled in the raw bar happy hour: huge, out of this world gulf-oysters, 3 for $2; peel and eat shrimp, also 3 for $2; the famous miami snow crab claws, 2 for $6... i was in heaven. there were of course, many more people there than had been the other night when i was there with blake, but its fairly easy to ignore trashy people when your face is deep into some raw seafood.
drinks ended around 9, and i headed back up to my apartment. the evening finished with my watching the rest of californication, season one, on dvd. have you seen it? it is pretty great. i cant stop at just one episode though, so its dangerous. it makes me wonder, where has david ducovny been all these years? i dont care about his sex addiction. he just brings me back to the x files, and i swoon. ((oh moulder and scully, whatever happened to your love affair????))
this morning, or rather, afternoon, i woke up after a long sleep and headed straight to the beach with some old us weekly magazines, hand-me-downs from another coworker. who could ask for more? i was laying there in the sun, a cool breeze, 85 degrees, reading trash and drinking diet coke. everytime i want to diss miami, i remember these kind of weekends. yes, of course, after a few hours i am too hot or need to pee or need to eat and must flee the beach and then later find some activity to entertain me for the rest of the night, which can be boring solo, but you know, its a pretty great life, all in all. i had my long run on the beach, just made dinner, and am off to take a drive & hopefully fulfill my mission of hacking into my ipod/nike device, so i can finally change the battery. its really genius, actually. you cant buy a new battery from ipod or nike, but theres a website where they tell you how to hack the thing open, break out the battery, and glue in another battery, that fits. how brilliant is the internet??? i mean, its mostly full of crap, but i will always appreciate- (other than cw.com playing gossip girl online)- random fun websites that give you little projects on a quiet night....
xo
A Rainy, Run-Around Kind of Day
Hey hey,
So last night my rooommate and her girlfriends from Somers and I went out for Mexican, to Sol Azteca just a few doors down from our apt. The food was good but their sangria was bad--it was sweet and sludgy, with no pieces of fruit to spear out. We then headed across the street to Taberna de Haro, an always-packed Spanish (not Latino) tapas bar, where we had more sangria and some desserts. Which included chocolate truffles with sea salt and olive oil. Weirdest concept ever, until you took a bite--the salt and oil created a briny film that enhanced the bittersweet dark chocolate flavor.
My roommate had the most orgasmic expression on her face, so now we are planning to make ghetto versions of it for Xmas, where it will NOT cost us ten bucks for 3 little truffles. We also had flan (eh--never was a big fan of it), this weird dish called zurracapote, which is like a plum compote with creme anglaise--not exactly my cup of tea--and pudin, or pudding. Then Sheila and I had a nightcap at Beacon St Tavern, where we gossiped about academia, literature, and boys, before we called it a night.
Today was pretty interesting. I met with my running club at 10:30 this morning, and we all had breakfast at this guy's house afterwards. But then some people started an impromptu Ultimate Frisbee game, and you knew I had to get it on it. We played 3 on 3-- 4 guys, 2 girls, so of course that means a TON of running--and I was running my head off like a dog, diving for the disc here and there, was covered with mud, and pretty much had the most awesome time ever. And it was still only 1pm on a Saturday afternoon. A bunch of the guys from the group are going to this bar/club in Cambridge called Middlesex tonight, for this girl's birthday party. It's one of those things where you're like, should I go? Was I necessarily invited? I mean, the birthday girl--whom I met officially that day--was like, you all should come! So, if my tentative drink plans with my friend Vince and his BU lawyer friends fall through, then I will just crash this party and hope that people recognize me when I'm not wearing sweaty gym clothes and a ponytail.
Making friends here is pretty interesting, because everyone's so friendly (so far), and there are a billion different activities going on at once. It's more a matter of keeping my eyes on the prize, you know? Like, if I have one big night out, that means I'll be drinking, which means I'll probably eat crap late at night, and then the next day I'll be sluggish, and I can't get much work done. Wah wah wah.
One of my authors from RH is setting me up on a play date with her cousin who lives in Cambridge, and we're meeting for coffee tomorrow afternoon. Sans the author. I find it so refreshing that people here are willing to do this kind of thing (like Jessi's really cool friend Mara!). Part of me kind of laments that I'll only be here for one year--just as I'm warming up, getting into the groove, I'll have to pick up and go again. So it goes!
(The photo above doesn't look quite like what we ordered, but it's close enough. Photo courtesy of aidanbrooks.blogspot.com)
Friday, November 14, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
how beautiful
tonight for the first time ever i walked down the street to the end of my block and looked at the beach in the dark. the moon was hovering high in the sky, casting a beautiful light all over the beach, reflected in the ocean. the sound was so peaceful and calm. i cant believe its taken me so long to do that- i think oftentimes i am just so tired at the end of the day, especially after a run outdoors (like today), that i dont even consider it. instead i think, oh, its sketchy, its dark, who knows, whats that noise, etc etc. but it was really nice to shut up those voices in my head and just breathe in the night air for a few moments. it was especially refreshing after a long run in the thick humid air, where even my shins were wet from perspiration. i wonder sometimes if miami makes one sweat more, or if i am just a more sweaty person. now theres a puzzle for you.
i must disclose, i have not yet signed up for the half marathon, but am planning on it. i also tentatively agreed to go on a training 1/2 marathon run on sunday with some people in hollywood, fl, which is about 20 minutes from here. ill see if i actually make it up there (or instead just reason that i can run on the beach here solo without having to be nice to strangers). we shall see.
last night i met up with my lawschool friendie blake who was in town, and we grabbed a few drinks outside at my one and only favorite bar, the outdoor tikish thing in south beach. it overlooks the bay-side of miami, where there are boats and a marina, and the air was so thick and humid, but a breeze would come along every now and again, and we just chatted about work and caught up, and it was really nice. it reminds me that sometimes, the people you initially meet, you never know that you will later develop a friendship with them-- you just never know how the world works. we were always friendly in lawschool, but we never really hung out, aside from being in groups; but hes quite funny & good company, and its just a nice feeling of - whats the word? - bizarre happenstance, maybe-- when you find yourself in such a situation.
afterwards, i drove him back to his hotel, and actually caught up (!!) with the other coauthor here, miss patty park, on the telephone. so nice to chat! although i was not joking when i told you that i was shoving marshmellows into my mouth whilst talking to you. i have this weird affinitiy recently for marshmellows, cool whip, and fruit. ((mirz, though, i must admit-- i hate ambrosia salad.)) tangent. anyway i got home and into bed, but didnt go to sleep until about 1.30, so that was rough waking upsies this morning. it was a busy day, but its almost over - i am about to put myself to bed with my bookie.
but before i even forget-- i had a little visitor in my house today!!!!! i walked inside after my run and saw another little caterpillar (or inch worm? or centipede?) on my floor. i tried to cajolle it onto some lettuce, but no dice. after about 5 minutes moving the lettuce around, trying to coax it onto the green deliciousness, i finally got the thing onto a supermarket circular, and tossed it in the garbage. i feel content that he will go on to live in my trash, in the trash chute, for a long and healthy life. i mean, there was tons of produce he could eat, some coffee grinds, etc etc. im sure he is a happy bug. but honestly, never before have i encountered so many catepillar/inchworms/centipedes in my apartment anywhere, ever, before. i think this is number three. unique miami, i tell you.
with that my little caterpillars, i bid thee good night
xo
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Most Unproductive Week, Ever!
Hey Annie,
I'm really sorry to hear about your itching. You didn't happen to run into a spot of poison ivy, did you? The only other thing I can think of is maybe your laundry detergent? When I was working at Park Natural, a customer came in to return all of his Myers Lemon cleaning products--he said his daughter broke out into a rash with the stuff. So if you're rolling around in sheets with new/strange detergent, maybe that could be the cause... OR it could also be my favorite paranoia: BED BUGS. AUGH!
Speaking of personal ailments...I lifted free weights on Sunday, was fine Monday, but when I woke up Tues my upper and fore arms were so sore. Like, they're cramping up kind of sore. I have no idea why--everytime I lift, the pain/soreness happens the following day. I've decided to work on a new fitness goal--getting my speed up and my time down. I'm through with long distance blah blah bull shite. This is kind of hard to do, though, because the BU gym's indoor elevated track is so small, you have to run 7 laps to the mile, while staring down at the 4 basketball courts and volleyball courts and weight rooms--talk about vertigo.
I'm also really proud of you for signing up for the Miami half-marathon! I think you will have a lot of fun, and if I know you, you'll not only kick its ass, but also wish you had done the whole thing, too. But NYC is definitely doable, and I will run miles 19-22 with you in Harlem/Bronx until one of the bandit catchers flags me down and pulls me off the course. Did you see that article in the NYT? Unbelievable.
I'm in the theology library at the moment, and for whatever reason, I cannot seem to concentrate on work. Ever since I came back to Boston from the marathon, my concentration has been at 2%. So the work just keeps piling up, and I keep pushing it back. But I am looking forward to having girls' night this Friday with my roommate and two of her friends, which will involve sangria and tapas and possibly my new suede hooker boots. Oh, did I tell you? I finally broke down and went to Roosevelt Field Mall back when I was in NY, so I could outfit myself in the latest trends among suburban Long Island teens. Now I blend right in with all of the undergrads in my annoying lit classes. That's hot.
I'm really sorry to hear about your itching. You didn't happen to run into a spot of poison ivy, did you? The only other thing I can think of is maybe your laundry detergent? When I was working at Park Natural, a customer came in to return all of his Myers Lemon cleaning products--he said his daughter broke out into a rash with the stuff. So if you're rolling around in sheets with new/strange detergent, maybe that could be the cause... OR it could also be my favorite paranoia: BED BUGS. AUGH!
Speaking of personal ailments...I lifted free weights on Sunday, was fine Monday, but when I woke up Tues my upper and fore arms were so sore. Like, they're cramping up kind of sore. I have no idea why--everytime I lift, the pain/soreness happens the following day. I've decided to work on a new fitness goal--getting my speed up and my time down. I'm through with long distance blah blah bull shite. This is kind of hard to do, though, because the BU gym's indoor elevated track is so small, you have to run 7 laps to the mile, while staring down at the 4 basketball courts and volleyball courts and weight rooms--talk about vertigo.
I'm also really proud of you for signing up for the Miami half-marathon! I think you will have a lot of fun, and if I know you, you'll not only kick its ass, but also wish you had done the whole thing, too. But NYC is definitely doable, and I will run miles 19-22 with you in Harlem/Bronx until one of the bandit catchers flags me down and pulls me off the course. Did you see that article in the NYT? Unbelievable.
I'm in the theology library at the moment, and for whatever reason, I cannot seem to concentrate on work. Ever since I came back to Boston from the marathon, my concentration has been at 2%. So the work just keeps piling up, and I keep pushing it back. But I am looking forward to having girls' night this Friday with my roommate and two of her friends, which will involve sangria and tapas and possibly my new suede hooker boots. Oh, did I tell you? I finally broke down and went to Roosevelt Field Mall back when I was in NY, so I could outfit myself in the latest trends among suburban Long Island teens. Now I blend right in with all of the undergrads in my annoying lit classes. That's hot.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
i dont get it
"the good shepard." am i dumb? maybe it was because i watched it while i was making dinner, and broke the viewing into two parts, but i just didnt get it. why couldnt matt damon smile at all? he was such a serious little CIA doober. ok, i dont want to spoil it (you know, in case no one else has seen this move from like 2002), but it was successful in that first, it made me hate angelina jolie, and then second, made me feel very bad for her. this second part was certainly attributable to her horrible stage makeup. why cant she look like that ALL the time?
also one other random though.
why is the npr station here playing kenny-g-esque music? now, i know its not fair to compare miami with ny, as you so mentioned in your previous post re: boston & ny-- but i mean, COME ON. any OTHER city has an actual NPR station that continually plays NPR shows. here, its like the international shit show. sure, they have a few shows on during the day. but then its like variety hour at a bad supermarket. kill me! i have to turn this off.
btw, i think i made up my mind re: the marathon.... i think i am going to sign up for the halfsie this time around, since im not feeling very confident about getting in any runs longer than 8 miles, and i dont have the motivation to go at it alone. the halfsie wont be so bad, and hopefully i can shoot for a good time to then emmulate and focus on in the coming years when i run the nyc marathon. (its a possibility, right??? i mean, ill just make you run with me into harlem bc that part sounded horrible).
ok, itchy baby is now signing out after another random, rambling post. while you might have an excuse involving jameson and beer, i have no excuse other than too many grapes with cool whip (annies new favorite desert. EVER!).
love yoooou
also one other random though.
why is the npr station here playing kenny-g-esque music? now, i know its not fair to compare miami with ny, as you so mentioned in your previous post re: boston & ny-- but i mean, COME ON. any OTHER city has an actual NPR station that continually plays NPR shows. here, its like the international shit show. sure, they have a few shows on during the day. but then its like variety hour at a bad supermarket. kill me! i have to turn this off.
btw, i think i made up my mind re: the marathon.... i think i am going to sign up for the halfsie this time around, since im not feeling very confident about getting in any runs longer than 8 miles, and i dont have the motivation to go at it alone. the halfsie wont be so bad, and hopefully i can shoot for a good time to then emmulate and focus on in the coming years when i run the nyc marathon. (its a possibility, right??? i mean, ill just make you run with me into harlem bc that part sounded horrible).
ok, itchy baby is now signing out after another random, rambling post. while you might have an excuse involving jameson and beer, i have no excuse other than too many grapes with cool whip (annies new favorite desert. EVER!).
love yoooou
Hanger Bar closed...
Sad news: Hanger Bar in the East Village is closed! Annie, remember when you took me there for a random 2-for-1 happy hour? Tear.
http://gothamist.com/2008/11/11/elsa.php
Back to this dumb paper I'm writing on Middlemarch from the BU Law library...
http://gothamist.com/2008/11/11/elsa.php
Back to this dumb paper I'm writing on Middlemarch from the BU Law library...
Economics 'n Beer
Okay, so I'm a little tipsy as I write this, having had a Jameson--neat--and a few pints of Ipswich ale--but I'm feeling better about things here in Boston. I can totally hear you, Annie, about missing the Fall air quality--while New England seems to get the same kind of damp-leaf-crisp-air smell, it's still not the same as NYC. There's maybe a wistful (?) feeling in the air... I don't know. It makes me a little sad.
Speaking of NYC comparisons, I just had drinks with my Swat friend Vince, who tells me I need to stop the NYC--Boston comparison already. He's been here straight from undergrad--incidentally, he also went to BU, but for law school. In an even more bizarre turn of events, I crashed an anniversary party in NY a few months back, and he went to law school with every single person in attendance. He probably would have been at the party if not for his work schedule. Small world. Anyway, Vince is an economist turned lawyer, and I actually had him vet one of my short stories (we took micro together). I had a protagonist who would wonder whether the guys she was dating would assess her based her marginal utiliy. I even inserted a little PPF curve into the story--unfortunately the image I belabored over--below--doesn't get reproduced correctly =(.
Anyway, the pic above is courtesy of Yelp--we met at Audobon Circle, which has a great Geary's on tap, but does not do much in the way of their vaguely Asian-fusion menu. It's conveniently 2 blocks from my apt, though, so I may have to visit again. As it were, the BU pub is getting a little old, especially as I'll be back there Thurs night with my class....
Quantitative Assessment of Fun Produced at Party X
x-axis
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