and back to the humidity

a lesson that i have yet to learn: the 9.45pm flight is not always the best option. sometimes, sure. but not always. i got home last night at about 2am, after finding my car in this huge remote parking lot in the dark, and it was covered in water. dew. humidity. what have you. then once i started driving, it did that predictable thing where the window fogs up so much you have to crank the fan and its annoying as hell and sometimes doesnt work. where was i? in crankytown. i finally got to bed around 3am, only to rise four hours later to leave earlier than usual, since i was parked in an illegal spot in my garage (please, the doorman and i were sternly disagreeing at about 2.10am about whether i could leave my car there for the aforementioned 4 hours. drama mama).

so its nice to be back in a way, but also of course, sad. it was so lovely to be able to have so much time with friends and family- everytime i spend time with my mom, i am reminded by all these similar things we do. its pretty adorable, if you ask me. we baked up a storm, made tons of cookies & assorted food items, i helped her throw a dinner party on saturday night, and was also able to spend some solid time walking around. my true love. theres really nothing like having a drink with a friend and walking crosstown, or even a few blocks to the subway. the mist this weekend was particularly beautiful- everything looked enchanted.

the upper west side in all her glory

gluggie picture - i am especially intrigued by day's hump-like pelvis pose

brunchie yesterday (was it only yesterday?)

today was brutal beyond belief, just trying to keep my shit together in terms of staying awake. because i had to leave my apartment so early to move my car before it would allegedly be towed, i decided to stop off at the market to grab some breakfast & lunch items. note to self: walking into a huge supermarket at 7.40am, after sleeping only several hours, is a very disorienting and unnecessary process. i ended up bringing a random assortment of food to work- none of which really went together, and which was excessive in quantity, to say the least. when you are trying to make sense of things with such a low level of cognitive functioning, the results are bound to involve stocking up on 5 pounds of grapefruits, a pound of sliced turkey, 6 yogurts, two bags of salad, a new box of cereal, and thats all i can remember. you would think i was moving into my office. it was highly embarassing to walk through our security/metal detector with four grocery bags. needless to say, things were a little slow-going this morning.

im taking the night off from running, mostly because i think i might fall and smash my face in if i tried to go on the treadmill. but also, it was such a lovely break to be able to run around central park in the mornings, with other people around! here in miami, there are maybe a handful of other runners that i will see while im on the beach. true, there is usually a minor spotting of more runners down on south beach, but still- nothing like the energy and motivation of being around, passing, and being passed by others. its very humbling and it makes you stay on your game. here, i just bop along without paying attention while listening to crappy pop music, and cars often just nearly miss hitting me (they never look where they're going-- its as if sidewalks dont exist here).

i have an odd confession. it just sprung up actually. i feel this insane urge to go buy fake uggs at target all of a sudden. is this what happens to you when you live in the tropics? is this why hollywood starlets always wear uggs and scarfs even though l.a. is still 74 degrees year round? oh wait---- wait--- ok-- moment passed. phew. now im ready to make some soup & get in bed.

xoxo

P: Gloggs and Other Matters

Seeing how this is the ONLY WRITING I've done in the past 1.5 weeks I've been home, I figure I should at least post re my adventures in NY. Here's the recap/highlights:

(1) Music exchange with Morgan, Fri the 19th! This happens every three years (Morgan can tell you what anniversary we celebrate, exactly).

(2) Landibadeau T-day, Sat the 20th! Hopefully pictures will be forthcoming? (Not by me--I don't think I snapped any. That means you, Jessi.) Much, much eating (c.f. earlier blog post.)

(3) Boozy Patois brunch, Sun the 21st: always a fun pastime.

(4) Mon the 22: DYKER LIGHTS!! followed by L&B Spumoni Gardens.

(5) Tues the 23: Woke up with a goddamn cold. Must have been the 4 days of tromping about in the snow/sleet/rain in wet Converses and a heavy backpack--spend 6+hrs outdoors each day. Stupid stupid stupid. Then got my hep a/b booster shot and a flu shot, which only made matters worse. I felt like ass.

(6) Wed the 24--Xmas eve--continued to feel like ass.

(7) Ditto Xmas day, and many days afterwards.

(8) Heather's gloggie! on the 26th. AWKWARD appearance from one Jedd B-man. He kept inserting himself into conversations when he didn't have anyone else to talk to, and then once you did the charity work of talking to him, he then made some condescending remark, or would just completely zone out, looking for someone better to have a conversation with, or staring at Heather kissing Zaggles, or whatever.

(9) Sat the 27th: Night out with Diane's RPI folks. Had one of her gay dude friends swat my ass; drank beer out of teacups (at speakeasy-themed Back Door); ended up at the Magician where said gay dude tried to mack it to this other guy at the bar (while Diane et al ran out to get pizza). Not wanting to spoil his game, and with no one else of the RPI party around, I decided to insert myself into a table of these two random guys who were deeply engrossed in conversation. "I'm sorry, but my friend at the bar is trying to hit on this guy, and I don't want to cockblock for him, so do you mind if I chat with you guys for a bit?" So we chatted, and then time goes by, and then I check my phone and saw like several missed calls, 3 texts, and a voice mail from Diane. Turned out her gay friend got so drunk, he told Diane that I grabbed a cab and left. Anyway, all was sorted out, though Diane had by this point already headed home. So I grabbed a drunken slice (my first pizza in more than two months), waited forever for a stupid F train, and got home by 2:30/3. All in all, a really fun night--met some interesting people, had some interesting conversations, and forgot so forth. Yay, thanks for letting me crash your college get together, Diane =).

(10) Sun the 28th: Mimosa brunch at Arte Pasta--sadly, Annie's last day in NY! Afterwards, met up with my friend Ethan #1, whom I haven't seen since my birthday. We meant to get coffee, but instead he ordered us a bottle of Prosecco and we aired our respective grievances. Well, basically, he listened while I bitched/babbled about everything going on in my respective corner of the world. Things are going well with him and his girlfriend--he was telling me about some rocky missteps and communication issues they were able to work through, and I was glad to hear it.

(11) Mon the 29th: I swear the media has gone batty. There were NO good sales anywhere, as far as I could tell. But that didn't stop me from buying a ten dollar sweatshirt from H&M and a newsboy cap for twenty bucks (I would have liked to pay only 10) from Banana.

Tuesday is an exciting day at the dentist, and Wednesday... who knows? I'm trying not to plan that far ahead.

Merry Xmas!

Merry Merry Christmas! Speaking of stuffed: I have feasted on kimchi, asado (my dad made Argentine-style short ribs on our backyard grill), meatatarian lasagna, broiled mushrooms, tofu stew, scallion pancakes, Italian marzipan cookies from Nino the butcher's wife, almond cookies with powdered sugar and cinnamon from the Greek neighbors across the street (whose eldest son Elias went to jhs with my bro, and whose second son Chris indecently flashed me in the 9th grade)... I kept eating even when I wasn't hungry. It was just because there was food around and I was trying to pack it all in before I return to my austere Boston life of veggie burgers, cabbage, and rice.

Xmas Eve we had our cousins from my dad's side of the family over to our house, and we did Secret Santa. I've been coming down with a cold, so I wasn't much help to my mother, who sent me upstairs to sleep on the heat-activated granite bed (you're literally sleeping on a slab of stone). This morning we ate organic challah (holla!), hardboiled eggs, and (for me) kimchi, and headed off to Xmas Mass at St. Anastasia.

I dread going back to St. Anastasia. It reminds me of my traumatic elementary school days, and of course I come face to face with this every time I walk into that church. In the front row, I saw Mrs. Pryor, my fifth grade math teacher. And then two rows from me, in walked Michael S, this kid I had a crush on on and off from second to sixth grades (of course, he wouldn't give me the time of day). Time has not treated him kindly; all during Mass, as we were belting out the "Gloria" chorus of "Angels We Have Heard on High," I kept staring at his big, SHINY bald spot. I mean, the thing was literally catching the light and glistening back at me like a newly polished bowling ball.

So as I went up to get my Communion wafer (I only eat it once a year, so I forget that it gets stuck to the roof of your mouth, so you spend the whole time kneeling in the pew trying to pry it off with your tongue instead of doing the Hail Mary's), I saw this girl Jen G, who was something of a frenemy during those formidably forgettable years (incidentally, I think she's good friends with Heather from Princeton). I remember she used to put on heavy makeup before heading off to her weekend fencing classes.

Do I ever say hello to these people? Hell's no; it's too mortifying. While part of me wants to say Boo-ya, losers--look at me, I left Queens and you guys all stayed; a larger part of me shrivels back to the four-eyed, brace-faced bookworm I was in grammar school. Like, some fifteen, twenty years later, and I'm still afraid that the kneeler in my pew will make a squelching noise, and one of them will turn around, point at me and say "Patricia farted!" like they did during Assembly (or rather, like I did, this one time when I sneezed and accidentally passed gas at the same time, which took me three months to recover from socially). It's funny how these long-past insecurities tend to rear their ugly heads at any given moment.

Anyway, we came back, ate more leftovers, opened presents, and I continued running around the house with my little nephew, who babbles nonsensical sounds; probably as a result of cognitive dissonance with English, Korean, Konglish, Polish (the housekeeper), and Trinidadian pidgin (the Indian-Caribbean nanny) all being thrown at him. Poor kid.

Tomorrow's the big talk with my sister, moderated by my parents. Wish me luck...

home!

stuffed with the traditional burns family fixins (vegetable lasagne, shrimp cocktail, and chocolate chip cookies) and mucho vino, this little piggie is stuffed and tired. the flight up was actually very bareable, partially bc i was sitting next to michael phelps' doppelganger who was very tall and kindly got up to let me pee, twice. (well, and i got to watch lethal weapon starring mel gibson with a humongous head of hair that honestly made him look oddly attractive to me. is that sick?).

cant say much now, we are about to head out for a post-dinner walk-- it gets too hot in this apartment, always, i dont know why. the first thing i do is open all the windows. then, of course, i am freezing. well, you cant win all the time. ill be a better doober and post something more interesting tomorrow. all i can say for sure is that its nice to be home, and its always amazing to see central park covered in a blanket of snow- even if parts of it have melted. seeing the black tar pathways gleaming in the streetlights.... what could be more romantic? ode to my city.

xoxo

the things we do

i cannot turn off the television. theres an entire channel here that is dedicated to models. im not kidding. they just show models walking, talking, posing, in different outfits, on the runways, all edited choppily and with odd background music. i believe they call this "fashion tv". its probably one of the worst things anyone could do with their time- not only can you not understand half the things these girls say (stupidity or accents, or both), but its like you keep poking yourself in your own eye. if you know what i mean. at the same time, it is totally and incomprehensibly mezmorizing. 

one more day of work before vacay. in the midst of doing laundry.  happy channukah! 

xoxo

P: Let It Snow!...and Sleet, and Rain...

So NY's weather kinda sucks. I narrowly escaped a snowstorm in Boston, which was scheduled for this past Friday. THe weather sucked so much, they half-canceled the 15k I was supposed to run Saturday morning. The cold wasn't the issue; it was the slush and ice. I was not going to risk falling down and injuring myself while running an UNTIMED race. Bah!

So, the past several days back in NY have been intense, if only because I've been out of doors for 6+ hours, carrying around a 10+ lb backpack. I was cramming in all of my last-minute shopping, and I was ill-dressed for the weather. I had on a pair of Converse-esque sneakers, which--needless to say--were soaked through, and it was freezing cold, and wet, and windy and miserable.

I spent Frida, Saturday and Sunday tracking down rainproof boots. First, I was going to get those fugly rubber ones that everyone and their mother is wearing:
But couldn't really find any, as everywhere was sold out. I hemmed and hawed re a pair I saw at Filene's for $25, but they weren't my "platonic ideal" of a boot, so I abandoned them, only to regret it later. Then I had a tortuous experience at not one, but TWO Shoemania's, which was just too intense for words. I then tried to buy the following silver Tretorn boots that were fur-lined and on sale for $35, but they were all sold out of my size and all they had was silver.
Then I spent all of Sat and Sun trying to track down the following waterproof Timberland boots: Which was once again a harrowing, harrowing experience that involved a trek on the G train to Queens Mall, along with all of that riff raff.

Anyway, I finally got them for $110--thirty bucks more than they were selling them for at Shoemania, but desperate times call for desperate measures (i.e., trekking to Queens Mall and back).

So it seems the theme of the past few days here have been, "Wow, Patty you've lost so much weight! You pretty now!" I saw five of my parents' friends since Thursday, and they've all said pretty much that, verbatim. This one man, Mr. Oh, told my parents that I got much better-looking now that I lost weight (which literally, in Korean, is "to be sunken in/dried out"). Meanwhile, I've lost all of, what, ten pounds?, which I think are hardly discernable, and five of those pounds were from my boobs =(. But Koreans--as we are a fairly homogenous-looking species of people--are quick to point out the minutest of physical flaws/improvements. My parents tell me Mr. Oh has schemes to marry me off to his scrawny, mean son Eugene, who interestingly enough used to call me fat in the sixth grade. No thank you. I see the way this man bosses around his long-suffering wife, and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. My parents think Mr. Oh hits his wife, too. I repeat: the apple does not fall far from the tree.

Sat morning I went to the gym with my parents; they go to their weekly morning Aerobics class (my dad is one of two dudes in a class full of Queens/Long Island middle-aged moms). Since I wasn't doing the 15k, I had to make do with 6miles on the treadmill. People in Queens don't seem to know how to work out, because the (middle aged) folks on either side of me were wearing non-athletic shorts, orthopaedic shoes, and tall black socks, as they walked on the treadmill. Not even a brisk walk--I'm talking slow-ass walking.

Anyway, another one of my parents' friends saw me in the locker room, and she said to me in Korean, "You're unrecognizable! Are you the same person I met this past summer?" And then she puckered her mouth, puffed out her cheeks, and continued, "You know, when you were poo-dong, poo-dong." I don't know exactly how to translate "poo-dong, poo-dong," but it's an onomatopoeia--I guess it's the thunderous, ground-shaking sound a fat person makes as she walks by.

Okay, okay, maybe I should get over these issues--after all, I'm almost thirty, but I just have to say: What a wonderful homecoming.

I'm a little stressed about Christmas, seeing as my sister and I are not on talking terms. God, Patty, way to air all of your personal trials and tribulations in a public forum. Thankfully, I had a great time Saturday night when Jessi and Colin made their awesome annual turkey, and there were brussel sprouts and pies--PIES!--and Morgan made a great salad (I'm not just humoring you...okay, well, kind of). And Damien made this tater tot casserole, which I witnessed from start to finish: tub of sour cream, can of cream of mushroom soup, one pkg shredded cheese, tater tots, two cans frizzled onions, bacon optional. Heart attack, or cheesy fried deliciousness? The jury's still out.

Well, am at Tea Lounge on Union and 6th, trying to cram in some work before Dyker Heights, so signing off...toodles for now!

friday friday

hooray, im glad youre on your way back to the homeland! & i hear it is snowing! sounds like perfect viewing criteria for monday’s trip to see the lights up in the bronx (?). i will hopefully be spending tomorrow morning perched beachside with a new us weekly. i know i know, unfairness all around. im writing a post now because my stolen internet was out last night and i fear this has become a weekly occurrence- every weekend it appears to be out. now, i dont necessarily know anything about making one’s wireless internet secure, but it seems odd to me that the one i steal from is only secure on some weekends. interesting set up there (not complaining, believe me!). my new obsession at work is listening to radio at pandora.com - im sure the rest of the universe knew about this a long time ago, but not this girl- which im guessing had something to do with the fact that i was living in a hole for the past 3 years. so back to pandora: you type in an artists name (say, casio tone for the painfully alone) and then proceed to fall in love with all the music pandora then figures out you also might like. i feel like im back in college and have that friend who always suggested good, slightly obscure music you didnt know. or similarly, like im listening to a really good college radio station. the best part is that im sure its all founded on some complex mathematical formula based on beats, rhythm, genre, and the like. way to go MIT, or whichever genius came up with this plan.

cupcakes on wednesday night were a lot of fun- first, after work, i went down over to lincoln road again to try and buy some great crappy christmas presents for my fam. you know, i wanted to get some miami-themed articles, maybe some shirts, mugs, whatever. surprisingly, you can find this stuff in most drugstores here- its like walgreens is also a haven for tourists who need last minute "miami florida" potholders. i always forget though, how annoying lincoln road is until i get there. you couldnt find a more densely-packed tourista area, and all the hostesses from the restaurants stand outside and try to accost you. actually- its very similar in that sense to little italy -but minus those kind chinese ladies who offer to sell you fake bags in chinatown. now if that started happening, i might change my tune. anyway after i frustrated myself to holy hell, i drove over to rachel’s apartment and parked. there are so many huge apartment complexes all over this town, its so strange to see what they all look like on the inside. its almost like when youre in ny and are obsessed with everyone else’s apartment, except here, everyone else lives in similarly gaudy, expensive, out of control huge complexes, and you kind of cant get over the fact that they all have their own gyms, pools, doormen, views of the bay, and the like. earlier in the evening i had run over to one of the infamous ones, the flamingo. oh, flamingos, pink birds, whatevs, how can that be infamous? trust me. first, you need a swipe card, like for a hotel room, just to get through the literal gates. there’s valet parking (please, i kicked it on the street, parallel style). once youre through the gates, there are three huge buildings in a U shape- one that you walk through, another on the left, and a third on the right. when i say huge, i mean at least 20 floors- but also extremely wide. in front of you is a wide open expanse of HUGE palm trees and greenery, and the bay is beyond that, along with the pool. my gut reaction was that i had suddenly entered a gated community: stepford wives, miami version. apparently the infinity pool is also accompanied by a bar, and many topless women. wait a second, topless? yes. they are not only topless at the pool, but also walking around, or if youre lucky, on the elliptical trainer next to you at the gym. honestly, i couldnt make this up if i tried. hearing these stories (several of my coworkers live there) always makes me immensely glad that i do not live in south beach nor at this infamous complex. it actually sounds like all the 20-something european sluts got together and formed a retreat, so hey, for some people, im sure it is enjoyable.

thankfully though, rachel does not live there. (wow, sidetracked much?). her building was a few doors down, and lovely,with kitties, and her lovely boyfriend adrien, and a lovely wine refridgerator, full of lovely wines. the four of us (rachel, ashley, adrien & i) drank, laughed, talked, and eventually made magnolia cupcakes. i must admit, im still a lover of the sugar sweet sunshine: nothing can beat that stuff. the magnolia cakes are dense- i had never had one until we made them, and i was a little surprised actually at how many eggs & milk they contained. i guess this contributes to the denseness: i have never added milk to any other cupcakes before. the frosting was even better. after taking intermittent breaks for baking and eating takeout, we frosted & decorated & suddenly it was almost midnight and i barely escaped being turned into a pumpkin. i still cant decide if i should try to attempt cookie baking this weekend so i can give the doormen something tangible with their xmas tips, or if i will avoid any further baking labor. honestly, just the thought of entering the supermarket this weekend is probably enough to curb the desire. ive actually started seeing some winterbirds or whatever they call them down here- last night in the market, there was a family talking about how good it was to be back in the publix miami supermarket- kind of insane. and then there was an older couple, dressed very new englandly, each with their own shopping cart to help them stand up (i honestly kid you not). either way, they take too long in the dairy aisle and are impossible to pass, so therefore, are highly noticeable.

so speaking of handle’s massiah and hallelujah, today is the last day of potluck holiday week. im sure my stomach will be pleased to thank her lucky stars and say goodbye to endless deserts and odd assortments of delectable savories. (patty, you would die). though, there is one last pitstop on the way: tonight is a going-away-happy-hour for one of the guys down the hall, its again at the swanky hotel bar "level 25" in the brickell neighb - we were there a few weeks ago. i suppose this means we will be buying overpriced cocktails and then going home to eat a random assortment of food items, due to wine-infused hunger. all in all, not bad things to complain about. AND, i just got started on a very new cool case at work (i know, it seems antithetical to describe work as cool, but i swear, it is) so thats keeping me going. that, and some lovely vacation time coming up in the next week. speaking of cool cases though, i should get back to it. if by some miraculous reason, i am able to post again this weekend, i certainly will- otherwise, enjoy your collective saturdays & sundays, and see you after then!

xoxoxoxox

Last Boston Post of 2008!

In embracing the 21st century, I am taking advantage of my twenty dollar Boltbus ticket and am using its (albeit intermittent) wi-fi services. So I guess you could say it's been an interesting couple of days. Yesterday my roommate Sheila and I went to St. Paul's church in Beacon Hill for a lunchtime Handel's Messiah sing-along. We've been talking about doing one for the past FIVE YEARS since our days at Columbia University Press, so we finally bit the bullet and ventured out. It was barely above 20 degrees, with icy rain, but still we made it there, scores in-hand. I also forget that I barely know the verses, especially as the alto part is all over the place, and it keeps starting up at random places in the score (not in relation to the other voices). Soto get the alto parts, you have to have both perfect pitch AND be awesome at arithmetic, to count out all of the measures. Anyway, for the rest of the afternoon, I had the contralto aria "O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings to Zion" in my head--not a bad way to spend the day.

Oh, did I mention that they didn't ice the stairs near my apartment, so I slipped (AND I was wearing hiking boots), flew into the air, and fell hard on my ass? It actually would've been pretty funny if it didn't hurt so much. Also, I was so paranoid re having damaged my lappity top. (Knock on wood.)

Some people from Swat were heading to Do-Re-Mi for Korean karaoke last night, but I bailed, blaming my thesis. And the 18 degree rainy weather. And laundry. And tidying up my freakin apartment. And packing. So I did all of that, curled into bed with The Emperor's Children, a novel by Claire Messud which I'm really enjoying, then fell to bed at 3.

Was up at 6:30am this morning for one last 6ish run with Rebecca. I showered, headed to the library where I tried to bang out 3 last hours of work, then boarded the bus. Here I am.

Off to the dentist, and then many, many meal dates, including LANDIBADEAU THANKSGIVING! and Xmas lights in Dyker Heights, and... a big, long, awkward talk on Christmas Day with my sister, with my parents moderating. She called me in hysterics on Monday while I was at the library. SHe was pissed that I hadn't called her since Nov 2, when I rang to congratulate her on her second pregnancy, and she proceeded to chew me out about taking a photo of her son while they were x-ing the street. She said i endangered the life of her child, I had no respect for her wishes, and that I was not to be trusted with children whatsoever. Anyway, this time around my sister was mad that I didn't call to follow up to apologize, and she said, "Do me a favor, Patty. Don't talk to me AT ALL during Christmas. I don't care what the f*** you get me. You are the biggest, self-centered, most selfish person I know, and you have made ZERO effort."

My parents finally said they would moderate, although they're offering now two years too late. Should make for a wonderful holiday season--can't hardly wait!!!

master cheffy

for the second day in a row, ive been baking/cooking at night for this potluck extravaganza at work. yesterday i managed to coat the kitchen (and my phone) in banana muffin batter (it was a delicious experience licking it off the phone... what?) and tonight, there were flecks of spinach dancing across the kitchen floor as part of my spinach pie project. i am well-fed with picadillio, rice & beans, yuca, pasta salad, deviled eggs, brownies, cookies, the works. in fact, given those first three items, it made me think that once i am able to host all of you sometime in our future lives in new york, i will host some kind of cuban-themed dinner party and recreate my year in food here for you. tba. and, i almost forgot. the baking continues tomorrow night with ashley & rachel as we apparently focus our collective energy on making magnolia cupcakes. ive never had one before, so my standards are actually not that high.

of late ive been in much better spirits getting to work in the morning, and spending the day there, in fact. i dont know what it is- the excitement about a holiday, or about having lunch with many friends, or finally getting more than 6 hours of sleep? either way im enjoying it immensely.

random transition, but what are you all doing for new years? benjamin & i have been going back & forth, trying to find a hilarious, middle of the road city to spend the eve in- first it was nashville, then lousiville, then annapolis... so far we are coming up short trying to get two last minute flights, but it seems like such a dreamy idea to me. instead, the more likely situation will be either cape cod or miami, its just that i will have just been traveling, and its very expensive to come here for the parties (i attribute it all to the fact that lindsay lohan will be hosting a party at that club heather & i went to - mansion. hilarious). anyway i will keep you all posted on whatever ridiciulousness we decide on, i just thought it would be interesting to see how everyone else is planning the night.

one last random thought. as a child, i hated the nutcracker, the ballet. it was so so long, so annoying, so over the top. and then today, i heard on npr that the nutcracker will be playing at our arts center on saturday afternoon and evening. and i thought, oh how NICE! maybe i will go. i wonder when the planets shifted so that i stopped hating on the nutcracker and started loving it, or whether that never happened, but it was only my nostalgia for those kind of funny family memories, where i was so horribly annoyed and bored and aggravated, actually, that the prince & princess kept coming out for more encours, that i stopped clapping with my hands and did a mini clap with my two pointer fingers. my mom could not stop laughing. what indigent little assholes we are when we're little, huh? anyway, chances are i will not go see it, but still. a funny thought to put you to bed with.

P: I am requesting your writing advice. Please help!

Hey guys,
So believe it or not, the intro to my current story ("Pound Foolish") has gone through 4+ rewrites, and I still can't get it right. Can I ask for your help? Here is the text, below. I'm not sure whether to include the Rockwell reference, and whether to have the image of the families holding hands (I don't think there are any such Rockwell pictures where they do that, but I was exercising literary exaggeration, I guess). Also, my professor Allegra Goodman thinks I should cut out the last line about "my brother and me rolling our eyes...Terminator 2," as she thinks it's superfluous. Also, some other things in brackets I'm wondering whether I should cut, leave, or revise again.

How sad, right? Well, any help would be AWESOME! Thanks! P

------------------------
POUND FOOLISH

When I was little, I imagined all the ways other American families had it better than mine. They probably gathered round the parlor fireplace to read Thoreau, or piled onto a corduroy couch in the den to watch The Price Is Right. I filtered these scenes through the fuzzy glow of a Rockwell painting--Mom, Dad, and the kids, holding hands and sharing a laugh.


The only bonding activity my family took part in was counting coupon, [and it was no smiling matter/no laughing matter/nothing to laugh about CUT?] My father would bring them home by the bagful after he closed the store each night. We would sort them by manufacturer, the nby denominations of 25c to $1.00. Our work was interrupted by the occasional grunt from my mother: "Huh-ree ah-pah jook-ges-suh!" My back hurts so much, I could die! [My mother relied on the Korean language for such hyperbolic turns of phrase. CUT?]

Sometimes we counted while watching Nature on PBS, the only television program permissible in our house. One night, Abba pointed to the screen, where the African cheetah--topping out at seventy m.p.h.--had just overtaken the Thompson's gazelle. "Back when we in Korea," Abba said, clapping his hands ot shush us, "we never dream entertainment like this. Eddie-ah, Samantha-ya, you ask me five dollar for movie. But Arnold Schwar-zuh-noo-goo can do this?" [My older brother and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes; there was no way this was better than Terminator 2. CUT?]
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P: Work, Patty, Work!

Where has my concentration gone? Out the window, clearly. I'm spending an uneventful day at the library, doing revision #4 on this stupid short story about two cousins who go on a shopping trip, and their various insecurities (body image, smartness, money, etc) come to light, with tension between their fathers stirring in the backdrop. Anyway, I don't understand why this stupid story can't just be PERFECT the first time around, as I've spent hours and days and weeks and now months on it, where it went from 17 pages, expanded to 32, then was cut to 21, and is now going to be cut again to probably 17-18. Wah wah wah.

I didn't do all that well in Leslie's class. It was a little ridiculous; at this party Sat night thrown by one of my classmates (Leslie showed up to it, btw), this one girl asked everyone how they did in the class. I got a B+. Big deal--I know Leslie didn't really like my writing, AND I only got into the program off the waitlist, AND he doesn't think my writing is as strong as the other students, including the two girls--S and S--who are not native speakers (from Beijing and India). So why should I be surprised? I kind of thought these classes would be graded not just on talent, but hard work. Like, how much you've improved in the class, how much you've incorporated feedback into the work, how much you participate in the class. J told me these two other girls in our class--S and S--got A-'s, even though THEY SAY NOTHING IN CLASS and they are always late with their feedback, and when you get your story back with their comments, there are all of two lines that say something stupid like, "Great! I really like your writing." So much for S & S adhering to the 'model minority" phenomenon.

I don't know, I also think it was dumb to bring up grades at all. I shared my grade because I don't really care. It's fairly obvious Leslie thinks I have a long way to go yet, he thinks I have problems with my commas and punctuation, he thinks my grammar sucks and ohmigod, I am about to have an ego-crushing moment. !@#$#~!!!

Speaking of which: J, who is, incidentally, a trapeze artist (she's got these big guns of arms, and both her clothing and her makeup favor candy-colored fluorescents), is a touch aggressive for my taste. She's nice and all, but she's the kind of person who (I sense) thrives on making people feel intimidated, whether she's aware of it or not. Like, we're still at this party on Saturday, and I was talking with a couple of guys, and she comes over and inserts herself into the conversation. That's all fine and good (these guys were nothing too interesting--the bulbs weren't flickering all too brightly), but what she was saying was completely non-sequitur. I think we were talking about food in the North End, and someone's talking about a raw food restaurant, which was unlikely given the abundance of Italian restaurants in that area, and she says, "Italian? Who's talking about Italians? I'm Italian." Then she said, in a very coy way, "So Patty, isn't your nickname--" and she started to say something really corny, like The Vipers or Super Duper something or other--but by this point, the guys had moved over to a different conversation while she was mid-sentence, and I felt a little embarrassed for her. So I finished her thought, and entertained talking with her a little more, until she drifted on elsewhere.

She's kind of abrasive in a way that makes me wonder if life was hard on her. Is that what I'm going to be like when I'm still single and 35? Is it a form of bitterness that's coming out? Or, why is there such a normalcy for women to be married by that age (or else they're weird) whereas guys can still be swinging bachelors? I think I would like to do a character study of her. Maybe she'll end up in one of my stories at some point.

Anyway, enough bitching--yesterday I ran the Somerville jingle bell race 5k with Amy (my roommate's best friend from high school) and .... Diane's friend Brian! Small, small world. My roommate, Amy, and Brian all went to hs together. Anyway, it was pretty damn cold--considering I was wearing just a long sleeve T-shirt, and everyone else was bundled in fleeces--and it was packed. You're running down these narrow streets of Somerville, and at one point we were on a bike lane, which was about 4 people wide at most--and we never quite hit our stride. We were essentially walking for the first part of the mile, and for the rest of the race it was stop-start, and you were dodging people right up to the finish line. But I DID hear jingling Xmas bells the whole way through the race, and they were blasting Xmas carols throughout. Surprisingly, Brian--who is a super marathoner who runs 5+min miles--ran the whole thing with us. Or rather, with me, as Amy is 5'10" and all legs. Anyway, my race time was an average of 8min, 49 sec, which--considering the circumstances--I was pleasantly surprised by. Certainly better than my marathon average time of 12min, 42sec per mile. Sheesh.

Anyway....CONGRATS ON GETTING 6TH IN YOUR AGE RANGE, ANNIE!!! 8min 18sec for a 10k--kudos to you, Annie! You are a super star.

Okay, off to ponder what I'm going to have for my fourth meal of the day, and doing other procrastinating activities...

p.s.

on my run i tried to jump over a rope-fence, and ended up in a face-plant, skinning my elbow, knees, and upper left thigh. sometimes we think we're grown-up, and then we end up looking like 3 yr olds. the mysteries of life!

friends!

perhaps somewhat out of routine in these last few days, ive been busy with-- (can you believe it)-- friends!

thursday morning i woke up feeling quite sick, but made myself go to work bc i had happy hour plans with two girls who work in the office next door. while i was pretty touch-and-go all day, by the time we got together, i was feeling much better. we had drinks on lincoln road, which is a pedestrian-street, no cars allowed, full of lots of outdoor seating, chain stores, and restaurants/bars. it probably sounds better than it actually is- i find it horribly annoying and full of european tourists most days, but i was happy to sit outside at this german beer hall and have a large stein of heffiweisen. (in my defense, it was nothing like zum scheinder-- i swear). the two ladies, rachael & ashley, were wonderful to hang out with - we laughed a ton, which is always a good sign- & we made plans to have a bake-out at rachael's on wednesday night, in anticpation for whatever cupcakes she had promised to bring for the forthcoming food week at work.

holiday decorations around the town

as you can tell, we dont have any actual trees, so the palm tree trunks are strung with lights.

friday night i got myself to bed super early so that i could tackle the holiday 10k at 7am on saturday (you can see me in a pink-shirt at the link in the third photo. ha!). thankfully it all worked out- although it was a schlep to get there (in the dark!), the sun finally came out a little before the race started. there was a fair amount of people, some running the 5k, others, the 10k. and we were off. i managed to keep pace with two other women: one right in front of me, and the other on my left. it definitely felt like i was pushing myself, but i had no music, and no way to know how well i was doing- unlike in central park for a 10k, here they didnt set up any kind of timing-devices to let you know your time- although i guess it was my own fault for thinking southern miami would be that focused. it was also surprisingly cold for miami- about 53 degrees when i was on my way there, although it did warm up so that it was a cool 62 or so once the race began. still, you should have seen these people all bundled up. no one is used to it here!

the race began, and i struggled my way through it sans ipod- and managed to come in 6th place in my age group at an 8.18 min/mile~pretty exciting. i wasnt expecting it, but was glad that i did it, for sure.

for the rest of the day, i was super exhausted, but made myself take a drive to hollywood, florida in search of a middle eastern shop. in reality, it was a long time, and a small store, but i was able to get a hunk of feta lopped off a larger piece, as well as some dolmas and eggplant in tomato sauce- just like sahadis. hooray!

on the way to hollywood

i spent the rest of the day mostly immobilized on the couch and in bed, watching a documentary about the cocaine trade in miami in the 70s&80s. it was very interesting, actually, although a little on the cheesey-side, in a weird way. everything is so 1980s, which is bizarre, since it was released in 2006. but it told this amazingly interesting story about how miami was this cocaine haven in the 70s, with tons of trafficing, murders, etc, rising to the height of it all in the 1980s. basically, the resulting miami of today is in part, because of all the money that flooded into the city during those times: people who made money off the trade, then invested in real estate and new hotels, new clubs, etc. pretty interesting.

after getting the history on, i took myself out for some more learning: to see alton brown speak at the adrienne arshst center, of food network (good eats & iron chef america) fame. he was hilarious, and it was a lot of fun, and everyone in the audience was laughing a ton. (we even got to see him cook some crepes suzette).

the adrienne arsht center

once that got out, i met up with rachael and a bunch of her girlfriends for "ladies night". i was late of course, since they had met much earlier in the night, but we all grabbed a long, leisurely dinner at a turkish restaurant down in south beach. the best part about this group of girls was that no one knew everyone at the table: it was almost like everyone had brought someone, so there was no cliquishness, and everyone was very receptive and friendly and chatty. rachael knew the owner of the restaurant, so he came over and said hello a few times, brought out shots for everyone (please, i shoved that thing into someone else's table space- no thanks), and then he arranged for all of the girls to go in his... hummer limo-- to the delano to go dancing.

at this point, it was almost 1am, so i decided to get myself home & into bed. pretty funny, pretty miami. for one of the first times since i got here, i finally felt like ok, yes, i will actually make friends. its taken a while, but i feel much better about it. everyone kept telling me that i was being silly and of course i would have friends, but its honestly difficult when youre new somewhere. one of the other girls and i were talking about how busy you can be when you have friends from high school or college in the same city- you always have things to do, so you dont pursue other friendships that much- youre always busy. and in a way, i think this is so true. its sad in a way, but nice now, to be able to take advantage of the time without a dense-web of friends & social obligations.

this morning an old friend who i went to summer camp (!!) with called, she was on her way back from a vacation in key west, and we met for brunch at the big pink diner in south beach. and, being that my internet has been spotty all weekend, i just got home and finally had reception, and thats where this story ends. its been a little gray outside today, but still in the low seventies, so ill take myself out for a run soon.

below are some pictures from around.

i love the pink sidewalks

i wanted to take a picture of the above building, near to my house, when the full moon was hovering above it thursday night, but i was sans camera. on my way home last night i snagged one anyway.

above is a strip of alton road, where i drive to & fro on the beach. whenever i look up at the palm trees, i am so amazed that this actually exists & that i actually live here.

hope you enjoyed the local taste. off for a run and to grab some ingredients for the forthcoming banana muffins.

xoxo

P: Who Da Wimp?

I da wimp. Not only was I planning to do a 5mile run with my running group this morning, I also was going to do the Santa Speedo Race this afternoon. I woke up to my alarm, and...decided to pack up my laptop and notebook, and head straight to the library instead. Incidentally, on my walk there, I saw 50 of the runners from my group whiz by (they didn't see me).

Why am I still in the library (8 hrs later)? I thought I was done for the semester! What happened to the final papers that I handed in, the final short stories that were all due in one big flurry? I don't know, but I'm working on revising some of these short stories while they're still fresh in my head. Ultimately, they will be part of the 100page thesis I turn in in August, so I figured now's about a good a time as any to get cracking on them. Before I sit on my butt and twiddle my thumbs back in NY.

So Brian H. of RPI fame (whom I'm connected to via both my roomie Sheila and Diane!!!) ended up doing the race today, and he, Sheila, their childhood friend Amy, and I met for coffee by campus. Apparently the race was super cold for Speedo-running--24 degrees, with a real feel temp of 14 degrees. So maybe I dodged a bullet there. It wasn't the cold that deterred me--it was because I hit the zone with my writing, and you really can't compromise that. Or if you do, then you end up kicking yourself for not having done the writing. Instead, I was kicking myself for not having exercised, thereby ruining what would have been a 13 day streak of back to back exercise/running. I was trying to go for 3 weeks of 7x a week of running between Thanksgiving and Xmas, so I wouldn't have to worry about being home and vegging out.

Anyway, this extra running and/or the cold weather is doing weird things to my body. Like today, I ate 3 meals in 4 hours. And I have been craving sweets like crazy all week. It also made me eat a quarter gallon of kimchi--by myself--in the span of one week. Also, I tripped and fell flat on my knees THREE TIMES this month so far (while stone-cold sober), and I've been talking to myself up the whazoo. I wish my body would calm the f* down and get with the program. So annoying!

Tomorrow morning I should be doing the Jingle Bell 5k in Somerville, then work, then my friend Ilana from Swat is passing through Boston, and we're meeting for coffee. Hopefully I'll get more work done thereafter.

Maybe I'm burnt out. Time to sign off--two more hours in the library before I head out. Super bummed to be missing Chava's party tonight, but I'll be back in NY in T-5 days, and will see her for Jessi's big labridoodle (Landibadeau) thanksgiving dinner...

P

P: Cape Ann Yankee Swap

So, apparently tonight I ended up at a house party on Cape Ann. We passed through the picturesque fishing town of Gloucester (which seemed lovely enough by night; I'm sure it's better during the day), and landed in Rockport, a quiet little town that felt so New Englandy, I almost felt shivers inside.

My friend CHristine from Swat invited me to her friend's house, and it was a small get together--maybe 14 people at the max, but we all crowded around the POTBELLY STOVE--how cute is that? and they had a real, pine Christmas tree, and stockings hanging from the mantle (we don't have stockings in our house), and blocks of cheese and crackers, and ham croquettes, and latkes, and whiskey-spiked eggnog (which I didn't drink, as I'm generally leary of sugary, creamy alcoholic beverages), and this really interesting local brew from Cape Ann Brewery, called Fisherman's Brew, which I thought was very tasty.

Anyway, I also attended my first Yankee swap, and I got to choose first, which is the best spot to be. I'm way too tired to post the rules here (it's 2:30am), but anyway I made out like a bandit--I got a fancy fondue set, complete with a double-burner, 6 individual cups, and a whole tray. I'm told I just need to buy Heet (?) at a gas station, and I'm good to go.

Exhausted--had a long day of writing, playing my first game of racquetball (most fun, ever!), goofing off at home, and then heading to Cambridge (nearly 1hr) to get a ride to Rockport (1+ hrs). So, I should go to sleep now if I have any hope of running with my group...

G'night, and yes, Annie--I'll try to enjoy the full moon!

love,
Patty

full moon

tomorrow i pledge a full lovely post, full of photographs and other interesting things. but for right now, i just have to say: look out your windows. its a full moon. in my family this means everything is electric, and there is officially an excuse for acting crazy. (you know my mom is a pagan at heart).  

xo

Stuffing Face with Savory or Sweet Items

Hey Annie,
I totally hear you about the impulse to not run and to sit on the couch and shove savory items instead. However, I still managed---err, was forced--to wake up this morning at 7am in the freezing, sleeting rain to meet my friend/colleague Rebecca for a run along the river. 5.5 miles later, I come home, freezing and dripping wet from rain and sweat, miserable...? probably. And having run on only 4.5hrs of sleep.

So it goes.

Anyway, in happier news... I AM DONE!!!!!!! This semester is done. I have given Leslie--my professor--the big heave ho. Well, he's given ME the big heave ho, because he's going on sabbatical and I will no longer be his student. So, our class went to the BU pub, I stayed for 2 pints, and as I was leaving, the playwrights were coming in, so I was convinced to have another 2 pints, then I made a date to play racquetball tomorrow morning at 11am with my playwright friend Alexis, and THEN I made it home.

Tomorrow (whatever--Fri night) I was invited to go to this Swat party in Rockport...? wherever the hell that is. I'd be up for it, but I think one of the people heading there is a SWIL member (i.e., Swarthmore Warders of Imaginative Literature--YES they wore capes, and hosted an annual pterodactyl hunt--think interactive Zelda (diane you are totally drooling right now)), and that could be kind of awkward. Frisbee people did NOT play with SWILlies. In fact, no one played with SWILlies, except SWILlies. Apparently they had the craziest orgies of all of the social groups on campus.

In other news!: I will allow myself to enjoy a weekend of hedonism before I start work on my thesis. Then I return home Thursday for some dental action, and will be around for nearly 3 weeks. Kinda crazy. I almost wish I could be back in school for all of that off-time, just so I can stay productive and not goof off like I normally do, if I were back in NY. Saturday night I am going to a party hosted by the guy from the band Dispatch--Annie, why do I think you were a big fan of them? Anyway, my friend from the program is brothers with him, and they're all having a party, so I'll be there. So will our professor Leslie. So it goes.

Anyway, I have to get my beauty rest before racquetball tomorrow AM, so signing off--

love,
Patty

car talk

today when i was driving home from work (albeit after a long detour to attempt to pick up my race-number in coral gables, arriving 7 miles and 50 minutes later (!!!) to find the store closed), i had a true driving experience. that beyonce song came on the radio: "if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it". and i was so pissed from being in traffic for so long and driving out of the way for no reason, that i just turned it way up and belted out along. i didnt really think about what it would look like to anyone (mostly because i am an admitted speeder and was way past other cars). but later as i pulled up at a light, there was music blasting from the car next to me, while i was (by then) trying to listen to 'news & notes' on npr. i looked over, expecting it to be some kid. it was, judging from my hazy college rememberances, either jurassic five or the black-eyed peas. who was sitting in that car, rocking along? a very small hispanic man in his 50s. i mean, kind of adorable. at the next light, i heard more music, this time on my left. boyz-2-men. yes. for real. the car? a convertible. the man? singing along, drumming his hands all over the place. this time, in his 50s, white. i smiled as i turned the corner home, thinking how nice it is that, even though we all contribute to this horrible driving population, we all have our little moments of similarity and song-belting and joy of life.

xo

do it

first p, i think you should totally do the basically naked run. i mean, it cant last that long can it? plus, its hilarious.  down here we dont officially do anything like that- we just see old women running on the beach in their bathing suits looking oddly much better than... well... anyone. startling, really. i myself just signed up for a 10k on saturday, before realizing that it starts at 7AM and is about an hours drive from my house. so.... not quite sure when im supposed to arrive or anything. hopefully i can pick up my packet ahead of time. running has also, recently, been very unattractive to me. all i want to do is sit in the house and watch movies and stuff my face with popcorn. is it that im depressed? exhausted? or just done with running? yes well, apparently im still forcing it, so there is that.

work was pretty quiet today, which is always nice. i got to do some very pressing things, like finally respond to the nyc jury duty people who are shocked and appalled that i could not sit on a jury in september. yes, its taken me this long to respond to them, mostly because they asked for a multitude of documentation that proves i am no longer living in nyc. not only did they want a copy of my lease, but also two utility bills, w-2s, and a copy of my drivers license. well well well. anyway i finally sent it out today, amongst other actual work-work things. 

this week is not so bad, actually, its going by at a good steady pace. then again, i guess tomorrow is only wednesday. my big plan for this weekend, other than the super crack early race on saturday, is scouting out a middle eastern or greek market. see, next week is this "holiday" celebration we have at work. except its not holiday based. its actually food based. the entire week is a potluck: we are each to bring in two items, on assigned days of the week, and we apparently eat breakfast and lunch all together- everyone on the floor (there are 6 of us in my office, plus the boss; similar arrangement in another office down the hall; and the last one only has 3... but still- there are also former- co-worker interlopers, who also show up bearing food products).  in theory, this sounds like a great idea-- bonding, delicious food, procrastination.  but in reality, it means that i have volunteered to make spinach pie for approximately 20 people, and believe it or not, cheese here is like 20 times normal price. im not kidding. not to be obsessive, but feta at the local publix market is about $7 for about a half-pound.  i know, for years i was spoiled by sahadis and the east village cheese shop, where i could easily walk to either and stock up on a pound of sheep or cow's milk feta for 2.99/lb. i just miss those places! we dont have cheese markets here, we dont have middle eastern markets; hell, we dont even have indian or japanese markets. its one of those things i always took for granted in new york- while i used them feverishly, i never really thought, wow how lucky. i really just thought, wow, how cool. now i am desperate. moreover, theres no real online internet "path" to follow in reaching the sparse selection of speciality markets down here-- no reviews, no comments- like the foodie cult down here doesnt really go for that out-of-the-way ethnic experience.  so, i am armed with a list of 3 places i was able to find, one of which admittedly does have fabulous reviews (a huge warehouse full of greek imported food items?!?! heavenly) but its going to be about an 1.30 drive from the race saturday morning. predictably, the two places closer are also, unknown entities. nonetheless,  i am ready , willing and able. and i better be, to make that much spinach pie. 

the other downside to "food week"? being forced to eat relative strangers' home cooking and not offending them. again, something i take for granted is how we have these friends who are just amazing cooks. i fear that is not the case everywhere. i will try to keep an open mind though, even though the idea of "meat" lasagne grosses me out like a vegetarian.  (i think its the unidentified meat factor). 

xo

Ten Cent Wings and Running in Speedos

Just got back from John Brewer's in Waltham, for ten cent wings and blueberry beer. It was a pretty early night, actually, and just a handful of folks from my running club. Thankfully in this freezing cold weather, I got a ride to/fro. Anyway, debating whether or not to do this Santa Speedo Run on Saturday, where basically you run in your Xmas-inspired skivvies in the middle of downtown Boston. Considering today had a real-feel temperature of 4 degrees, I might have to think about this...

Anyway, nothing much else to report--by Fri, all will be over and done!

-P

more champagne

i wish it were snowing here! on second thought, most people out here have a hard enough time driving in the rain, so, you know, maybe ill just save my wishes for snow until im next back in new york. plus, the beach is still pretty great. and im not sure what snow would do to that component of my weekend activities.

i think the last update i did was on thursday afternoon? we went out to dinner thursday night with a collector & three art dealers, to a fancy steakhouse down on ocean drive- called prime 112. it was one of those places where the meat cuts are so huge that benjamin & i ended up splitting one. it had this amazing crust on it- pretty delicious, even though i usually only eat red meat these days when i am desperate for a burger or my moms beef stew (oh, how i miss it). we all shared some unbelievable mac & cheese- with truffles!!! (and lactaid pills of course), delectable brussel sprouts, amazing deviled eggs, salad, bread, sweet potatoes... the list goes on. we also managed to consume copious amounts of well-chosen champagne & red wines chosen by the collector, one of those people who know all about wine "houses" etc... i didnt even know you could refer to a wine maker as a "house" but apparently you can. after dinner, we went home to hit the hay: even though we didnt go out, it was still midnight by the time we got back here. such is life. 

friday after work i scooped ben up at the NADA art fair near work, and we headed to our favorite miami institution, montys. if you check out that link you may start to understand what it looks like- random outdoor seating, tikish, with a pool in the middle, overlooking boats in the bay. pretty much perfection, if you ask me. so we headed there for some raw bar happy hour, downing half-priced stone crab legs, shrimp peel-and-eats, and some oysters for me. it was a seafood deliciousness night, along with a few pitchers of beer. really, life doesnt get any better. after that, we headed to a party for artforum, hosted by yves st laurent, but by that time i was super full and unable to really converse with anyone. it was at the bass art museum, 

and we headed out to the garden area where everyone else was. the waiters were passing out desert h'or'devors, i mean, delicious but at that point i was so stuffed with mercury laden seafood that i couldnt imagine it. 

more champagne, and then i took a walk inside to check some things out; nothing too crazy, although there were some fun videos: two played side-by-side, and were of kids in mexico (i believe?) playing air guitar infront of a wall on the street, which was draped with a white sheet. the kids all ranged in how they looked- but were definitely of the high school aged variety, some were goth, others punk, some more hipster looking. they got to play air guitar with these wooden, brightly painted cut-outs of guitars, and you could hear the music thru headphones. at the end of each "song", the kids would inevitably, break the guitars, smash them on the ground, the wood splintering. behind the videos, on the opposite wall, was a huge stack of the air guitars. i only wish they had encouraged similar play with those objects d'art.  otherwise, nothing much to write home about. what i could write home about is how sleepy i was, so i left benjamin at the party and headed home to sleep. sadly i missed out on some more parties, and a late night swim in a pool, but i digress. (really, i could have done the same if only my pool on the roof would finally open!!!)

yesterday was rather non-art related until later in the evening: we spent some time on the beach, laying in the sun until a group of very loud spanish talkers came and stood about one foot away from our heads and continued to have a very long and loud conversation right above us for approximately 20 minutes, before we decided to leave; then we ran some errands, had some lunch/breakfast at a nearby arepa cafe, and headed to target! (look patty, we both got target in the same weekend. brilliant! except... i go all the time. oh well).  our mission there was to buy some presents from a little boy named damien. no, not damien damien, but a little 4 year old foster child that i "adopted" for the holiday season. after some internal discussions and external ones with ben & my mom (via phone), we settled on a huge pack of legos and a soccer ball. when i asked my mom whether legos would be ok for a 4 yr old, or if little damien might eat them, my mom's reply was, "well, i mean, they should be ok, but you just dont know what kind of four year old he is." i think this was her way of saying, kids progress in different stages. do not judge if he likes to eat legos: it is out of your hands. we also briefly considered buying little damien a doctor's kit from fisher price, or chutes & ladders or candy land or memory, but decided that we were being excessive because buying toys is SOOO much fun.

you know whats not fun though??? dealing with small yelling children and their obnoxious parents in target around holiday season. one mother was actually being more annoying than her kids, as if shrieking and yelling to get them excited about toys was actually a good idea? we then had the miracle of miracles of waiting in line behind a mom & her 2 yr old, who did not

 understand that her mom was actually buying her this mickey mouse play contraption that was four-times her size, but rather, thought that the cashier was taking it away from her, especially when it went into an oversized shopping bag. the mom let the kid scream and scream and scream and cry,-- it was like she barely noticed it. i tried to intervene, and explain to the child that the toy was actually HERS, it was just in a bag. but what can you do. kids are sometimes... stupid. benjamin got a real kick out of how annoyed i was that the child was being so irrational. i mean, i get it, i just wish the mom had been a little more proactive. (at the same time, i guess thats the kind of apathy that develops when you are constantly surrounded by screaming crying children. that are yours. maybe you just dont care anymore). 

phew. once that was over, a had a lovely sushi-boat-dinner extravaganza, at my local fish spot, where the boats go around in a circle at a bar, floating in water that is pushed in this circular current. it was delicious, as always! we then hit up a magazine/fashion party at the mondrian hotel, (watch that intro video for a hilarious insight into miami) where we had yet more champagne -- the party was conveniently sponsored by verve cliquot.  benjamin couldnt really it take it there- it was a little too fashiony/cheese miami, so we left after about an hour. i must tell you though, i loved the design of the place: it was very enlarged, playful- like outside, by the pool, there were several huge open-top canopys over large spaces, so that it looked as if you had spotted a room in a dollhouse; there were almost make-shift rooms in that sense, although the surrounding canopy & flowing white curtains were so oversized, that the furniture - lounge chairs, or living room set-ish spaces- looked dwarfed in comparison. 

after that, we headed to the raleigh hotel once again, where a dealer (?) was sponsoring a -- get this -- paint ball competition! there were different groups of contenders, some artists, others collectors and dealers, and they would suit up, put on these white outfits, helmets, chest pads, and get into this pre-constructed ring with netting on all sides (so that all the bystanders didnt get hit). it was like we were invited to an oversized, absolutely ridiculous bat mitzah. kind of amazing. this party too was sponsored by my new favorite beverage - this time, moet. its really crazy how much corporate sponsorship goes into this week! although we only meant to stay at the raleigh for a while, we ended up leaving around 1.30, grabbing a midnight-snack, and then headed home to sleep it all off.

i know, this feels like the most neverending post but i just have to keep going.

today today todayyyyyy, we got a christmas tree!

there she is, in all her glory

yes, they do sell such things down here, conveniently at my local publix supermarket, where i got to actually select a 6 foot tall tree and place it inside my apartment without moving furniture or placing it awkwardly in the kitchen. go figure. miami beach living does have its benefits. i decorated it with hannukah themed colors, representing my dad's non-religious-cultural nature and my moms love of all religions. ok, well, i mean, i just really like blue, white & silver too. although i did search out the manorah factor today, i could only find the scary plastic ones with light bulbs at my local walgreens. i will search harder. in the meantime, the living room smells delicious and looks beautiful & peaceful. i tell you, theres just something about having a tree visit you for a month that is so pleasant. i wish  i could have one all year. well, technically i guess i could, if i can settle for a mini palm tree. (note to self....). its feeling a little more joyous in here since we put the tree up, but its still a little odd beginning to celebrate or reminese in holiday-spirits when its warm and sunny all the time. while its nice, its also horribly ground-hog-dayish, if you know what i mean.

well, enough babbling on about champagne, trees, and all other sorts of random things. tomorrow begins my life once again as a boring office worker, writing memos, researching online, and taking long runs after work, with nothing else to do...  when you see it snow again, enjoy it doubly for me my friends. 

xoxo

It's snowing! It's snowing!

This morning--as I went for a 9:30am run along the river--it was snowing. This was a new experience for me, and I have to say, there's something romantic about running through a flurry of snowflakes. I would write a little haiku in honor of that right now, but I have long since traded in my poetic fedora for a prose-wielding construction hat (as is clearly evidenced by that crappy metaphor), so...no Byronic verses in this blog post.

First off, can I say: Annie, your week in Miami sounded AMAZING. Look at you, hob-nobbing with the art scene, getting into fancy hotel bars. I was just watching an episode of 30 Rock a couple of hours ago (when I decided to take a "break" from my paper-writing), and Alex Baldwin's character had the most amazing line: "Why does anyone go to Miami? Ass, and the burgeoning art scene."

Classic.

My friend Diana was in town this weekend, and we spent yesterday at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, which is now my favorite museum in Boston. Granted, I've now only been to two, but details, details.

Perhaps the best-known piece in the collection is a painting called "El Jaleo" by John Singer Sargent, who is actually one of my father's favorite painters. It's actually a saucy Flamenco dancer doing her thing, and I wonder whether she's getting it on with one of the guitarristas in the background.

Anyway, that was about the only artsy thing accomplished this weekend. Diana took me to Target, where I spent $75 worth of I-don't-know-what. Toilet paper. Face lotion. Clorox. And then she took me to the Super 88 to buy kimchi (I bought 3 lb jar of the stuff--I am now lost without it). I balked at the rice prices, though, so knowing me, I will probably lug a 10lb bag of it on the boltbus with me.

I have 2 10-15p academic papers due by the end of this week, and--fingers crossed--I have good feelings about them. One paper is on Jane Eyre and its 2 conflicting narrative voices, and some bit about Feminism and the Bildungsroman (aka the novel of development). THe other is on Mansfield Park, exploring why Fanny Price is a pain in the ass. Or, to put it more politely, the anti-heroine, if you will. I've got my friend Tim reading over a draft of the former (he, apparently, loves the Bildungsroman--blasted British M.A.'s!), and I am 8 of 10 pages done with the Mansfield Park paper, plus revisions and edits. So, if all goes well, I should be able to take part in 10 cent buffalo wings with my running group tomorrow evening, and a couple of holiday parties slated for the following weekend. I'm almost too afraid to go back to NY early because all of my mechanized rituals--library, gym, library, home for dinner, library--will all go out of wack the second I touch down from the bus. What if I sit around on the couch all day watching Food Network, getting fat and not writing? It's like, all of the hard work I've been doing in Boston will get cancelled out by a two-week sojourn in NYC. But yet, I miss all of you guys...

In other news: my short story for (my tyrant professor) Leslie's class went over not so hotly. Well, actually, he was a lot nicer about couching his criticisms than he usually is. Here is a snippet of his typed, written feedback to my story:

"Patty, this is a difficult piece to judge because it is clearly--or at any rate clear to me--not a short story, but a piece of something you seemed not to have the time to complete; nor does it really have a steady focus... I think I can sum it up under the rubric of IMPRECISION: NOT JUST IMPRECISION OF LANGUAGE, THOUGH THAT IS RIFE, BUT IMPRECISION OF THOUGHT AND PURPOSE AS WELL." (Note--these are Leslie's ALL-CAPS)

He wraps up with: "The trouble is you don't string either [scenes or dialogue] onto the thread of a plot. They are jewels that never become a necklace, and at the very end, to extend this awkward metaphor, they all tumble with the non-ending over the floor."

He did say that he was "proud" of me for "rallying back" after my "initial disappointment" in the class, i.e., after I was a crybaby.

Well, that will be the last of the ego-blowing moments for 2008. Leslie's on sabbatical next semester, so who knows how things will end up.

-P

holler miami art party style

hi kiddies. Well, patty, while youve been toiling away eating cabbage and veggie burgers in what i assume is some school cafeteria (i do not miss those recent portions of my law school experience), ive been staying up too late as well but for wholly opposite reasons. Tuesday began the week of art basel miami beach, which is ongoing through the weekend. Basically the entire art world (new york, l.a., international) come here– from what i can gather, the galleries that are well-established have space at the huge miami beach convention center- and form the art basel miami proper art fair. Then there are smaller art fairs all around town– one called dot, or spot, or something; several that are media specific; there are also apparently huge shipping containers on the beach that are open to the public and act as additional floating gallery spaces- pretty cool huh? Hopefully i will get to take some pictures of the madness so you can all see.

So the city has been temporarily transformed, for the better if you ask me (minus all the increased crazy traffic). The hotel bars are packed, the roads are packed, the people are beautiful and non-miamian, and there are tons of things to do. Hey, its almost like i live in a real city again!!

Tuesday night we went to the nada art fair opening- a friend was outside dj’ing, there were tons of booths inside, and deliciousness vodka sodas and grolsht beer as far as the eye could see. I was thankfully granted two extra passes for my co-worker nicole & her husband, so they got to come along. After staying for a few hours after work, we packed up my car with three other people, and headed out to another art opening- this one called "the station," curated by an artist as well as a woman who curated the last whitney bienniel.

It was less selling-, more show-like, and it took place in a really interesting space: all around miami there are these totally unused apartment or office buildings, that were built in the real estate heyday and have yet to be used. So apparently the curators of this show were able to get to use this space for the art, and this opening party, naturally, sponsored by grey goose, so again there were plentiful servings of vodka soda and mini champagne bottles all around. I tell you, i cant say it enough- these arty kids know how to party. The first floor of the exhibit was in the main lobby- still under construction- with some exposed beams and sandy floor in parts, where no actual cement had yet been laid. Downstairs there were larger installation sculptures and the like; the second floor had more "normal" mediums- paintings, drawings, smaller scultpures; and the third floor was actually an amazing installation: a meth lab (!!!). it was so unbelievable, so creepy, so intensely... real seeming.

One area was glassed off and was set up to look like the actual lab, with tons of bottles and tubing, cooking, filtering the meth; a table nearby held copious amounts of sudafed. Up some rickety stairs, you went into the meth-lab-apartment, where there were disshelved, creepy arrays of random collections in glass jars on many bookshelves; crawl through another opening and you were in a room with dirty gross carpet, dirty walls, stacks of old newspapers; through another room, and you entered what was probably the ‘bedroom’- again just a bare, sad, depressed looking space, old carpet, wallpaper, a single lamp and bulb blaring on the floor, and a sad looking calendar, open to the month of December. This being miami of course, at the end of that room was the normal built-in terrace space, where undeniably there were four or five european middle aged men, dressed very well, smoking cigarettes and drinking, as if they couldnt really be bothered by the nearby installation or the irony of them standing outside doing that in light of what was only a few feet away. Very interesting class-dichotomy.

After taking a nice tour, we were standing outside for a while, and thats when mary-kate olsen showed up. I know i know, i shouldnt brag, and actually it was benjamin who pointed her out to me- but then she came to stand *right* next to us so i couldnt even stare. It was almost a form of bizarre torture. I did get to see her slightly out of the corner of my eye- the littlest petite little thing, with facial features as delicate as a doll, truly. She was wearing a floppy hat with feathers on it, and looked so fragile. (Her boyfriend is the aforementioned artist who was one of the curators for the show). Perhaps expectedly, she traveled with an israeli bodyguard, who was very protective of her, but in a nonchalant way, and cleared the way to ensure she & the boyf could walk to the bar for a drink, unencumbered.

Shortly thereafter, we headed out to yet another party- this one for the T magazine, of the ny times; it was in the penthouse of one of these very fancy famous hotels, the raleigh, which is quite lovely outback. Again, expectedly- it was totally packed and impossible to get into. We waited for a while outside but then decided to just head out to the back area, where the pool and bar and dinner is served, and i tolerated (just barely) some more drinking and socializing before i put my foot down and made us leave, around 1am. The cranky factor was at an all time high- we didnt hadnt had dinner yet! At the time, it seemed like a good idea to hit up the ihop by my house, although the next morning, it was a regrettable decision. Still, by 1am on a Tuesday morning, there arent much choices out there (little deli action in these parts, my friends! Enjoy them while you can). Thus, six hours of sleep and back at work- living a double life.

Yesterday there was more excitement, of course. We thought we were going to some kind of opening party for a new show at the rubbell family collection, called ‘30 americans’ – all african-american contemporary artists. But once we got there, we realized it was the dinner for all the artists, etc- but ended up getting in and staying anyway. The rose champagne flowed freely once again, and we got to meet such an interesting array of characters- from crazy, freewheeling artists, in your face, to funny, normal gallery dealers, to the editor in chief of a serious japanese art magazine (who had just spent all day with david lynch...? weirdness), to a writer from the times, and a whole other assortment of art variety people. Oh- and naomi campbell. And no, she did not throw a cell phone at anyone’s head, although, i guess you never know what happens across the room from you at these things anyway. It was a ton of fun, but exhausting still, so once we piddled out of there around midnight, i was ready for bed. I dropped benjamin off at yet another party (i couldnt handle it!) And went to bed. And now- gearing up for yet another night. Hopefully it will be less hectic, more calming- just meeting some people for dinner down on south beach at what i assume is a ridiculously froufrou steak restaurant on the ocean. Wowza. Well, lets just cross our fingers that this too will be all complimentarily taken care of.

It has truly been a wonderful past few days! Although i must admit- i am looking forward to some relaxing time this weekend, beach time if it warms up, just not so much hecticness. I am always amazed that people can gear up for these kinds of things: the party does not stop, literally. It goes all night. Good thing i am very adept at taking myself home when i can tell i will be a wreck the next day. Tomorrow is Friday Friday, and this week has just flown by. Off to pack up from work, and start another evening of my double life... well, you know, after a nice run outside.

xoxoxo

One More Day in the Life in Boston; What the Hell

*I AM IN FINALS MODE*

6:50am Hit snooze

6:58am Climb out of bed frantically, pull on super warm running clothes, curse the day, curse the fact that I only got 5.5 hours of sleep.

7:03-8:10am Run to Cambridge, meet my former boss' boss' boss at Columbia for a run along the Charles. Freezing and sweating at the same time--ripe conditions of pneumonia.

8:15-9:00am Shower, do last night's dishes, pack my breakfast + lunch, pack my laptop and bag.

9:05am-12:00pm Eat peanut butter, sunflower seeds, and honey on rye while belaboring introductory PARAGRAPH of my Jane Eyre paper. Note to self: superimpose musical jargon over my paper re duplicitous, disparate narrative voices (the priggish Victorian conduct book voice and the independent, modern, Feminist prototype voice).

12:00-12:30pm Nuke veggie burger, cabbage and rice; eat while rereading the aforementioned paragraph.

12:30-2:00pm Rewrite all of my writing on the paper from yesterday. Eat banana.

2:00-2:20pm Decaf coffee break (I know, I know, decaf does not coffee make, except for me--makes me jittery). Email break.

2:20-3:20pm More rewrites/additions to paper. 10 pages down; 5-10 more to go.

3:20-3:30pm Wrestling with printouts at the computer lab ($#@!$)

3:30pm-4:15pm Treat myself to a goof-off at home....but what is this? NO GOSSIP GIRL on cwtv.com?! NOooooooooooo!
Eat lunch #2 (frozen dumplings, rice, and peas) while settling on watching NBC's Chuck. Still hungry after second lunch-- wtf?!

4:15-8:15pm Revise existing draft of paper. Debate word choices for hours: do I say "the two voices engage in a counterpoint moment," or "contrapuntal harmony," or "polyphonic counterpoint," or "suspended counterpoint," "contrapuntal dialogue," "dialogic counterpoint?"

More debating: contemporaneous Vs. contemporary? inevitable Vs. invariable? Converge or conflate? Bildungsroman or Kuntslerroman?

8:15-10:00pm Head to Audubon Circle with my friend Paul. Sadly my Korean bartender buddy's not there, so no girly drinks. Two pints of Ipswich ale.

10:00-10:20pm at Johnny's Fresh Market; looking for a snack/dinner. Spend the whole time gazing at nutrition labels, then default to the unhealthiest option--pasta, chicken, broccoli (in a cream sauce. eep).

10:25-10:55pm Eat said dinner/snack while watching episode 1, season 1 of Arrested Development. So good. Sigh.

10:55-11:07pm Waste time on Facebook.

11:07--midnight? Finish revising first draft of paper; will tackle the remaining 5 more pages to write tomorrow...

SCENE.