No, it's not due to flagrant escapades or anything unholy that's making me sore. It's from rock climbing one full week ago, where I was roped into an uncomfortable harness, and I got stuck on a route and so I just clung there for awhile (minutes, seconds, but felt like hours and days) trying to plan my way up the climb. Granted, I could have been lowered down, but I was really PO'ed that I couldn't get up to a certain part of the climb, so I just wasted more energy by reaching for the same handhold, but my left foot kept wobbling and shaking, and then... SIGH. The only reason why I bring up the soreness in the general upper upper thigh region is that.... I JUST GOT A NEW BIKE!!! How ridiculous, with 2 months left in this city/country, that I now decide to get one. But my friend Amy gave me her old Mongoose, and I had a bit of a hooha finding a place to tune it up ($67-$100), then buying a helmet ($35) and lock ($18-40), and now I need t oget a headlight (?). And it is so worth it because now I am whizzing through Boston's relatively flat streets at breakneck speed.
Although I actually didn't know how to ride a bike in the city, and nearly got mowed down/mowed other people down when I took it for its first spin on Friday. I didn't know if you were supposed to bike in the streets or on the sidewalk, and when I was in the street the cars were honking at me and I thought I was about to get hit, so then I moved up onto the sidewalk and almost hit a few pedestrians, including this really pissed off looking runner. Anyway, it was really scary to be shuttling along at this unfamiliar speed--I'm used to either walking (3mph) running (7-7.5 mph) or car (65mph). Now I was cruising at 15-20mph and I kept having nightmare visions of flying of hitting a pothole and flying off my bike. Also, I felt super dorky with my helmet, messenger bag, rolled up jean leg, and showing up sweaty to EVERYTHING, then the awkward handling of brakes and handlebars and almost falling over when I come to a stop at the traffic light. And it's not even like htis is a fixed gear bike! Anyway, I'm really happy to be riding, because getting from Boston to Cmabridge, e.g., is a total pain in the butt via public transport, and biking is actually faster than anything else.
So last night, after a 12-hour work day revising the Thanksgiving/academic flash cards scene in JANE (8:30am-12noon library, 12:00-12:40 home for lunch, 12:40-5:45 back to library, 5:45-6:40 home for dinner/talked with Morgan/my mom, 7:00pm arrived at a cafe in Cambridge, worked till 9:04pm) , I was feeling burnt out. I needed a drink badly. And while Annie was rocking out in F21 heels and hitting up Nicaraguan fare and having rendezvouses with potted plants, this past weekend I was pretty tame. The highlight of my wknd was running a freakin 5k on a COW FARM in Ipswich, for X's Sake. And so, as Annie might call it, the "animalistic" impulses needed to have an outlet.
It turned out my friend Heather was with some of the poets at De-ep Ell. u.m. in Allston, a neighborhood that is overrun by college kids. Namely, BU kids. It's kind of dirty and cheap and gross but with good ethnic food, and weird dive bars and the occasional nice bar. So--thanks to the beauty of the bicycle--I was able to get from Central Sq to Allston in probably what would have taken 15 minutes, but actually took more like 35 as I decided to take a 3+ mile detour along the Mass Ave Bridge, just for the hell of it. Anyway, D.E. was kind of interesting, as I'd been meaning t ocheck it out, and I'd definitely go back, since the crowd skewed a bit older. Even though I looked like I was 14, with a huge backpack, bike helmet tied to it, short American Eagle preppy shorts (um...what the hell compelled me to buy them this wknd), a soaked-through T-shirt, Converses, and a headband.
Then we were off to Silh -ouet.te Lounge, this ridiculously dive bar with 45yo dirty men in the front and college kids in the back. And we were playing darts, and I just felt super old. Heather wasn't sure whether these kids were in college or in high school. After a couple of PBRs, some dart throwing, and some inappropriate smiling at way, way younger boys, we were off to the Model, because Heather was chatting with the bearded boy to our right, and he invited us to head there. Said bearded boy was probably a dozen years younger than Heather, but I think there was a number exchange involved, and some mention of a party Fri night. I, on the other hand, was talking with the bearded boy's age-appropriate brother, who was wearing a Hanes T-shirt, black square glasses, and played in a band. Oh, Allston. Thank God that's not my type (anymore). We're already by the bar, and he excuses himself to go get another beer-- even though MY BEER is running on empty and he doesn't ask ME if I'd like one. I'm thinking, Really? You are a 28yo man and you don't know how to offer a girl a drink? And then this short dude who was friends with them starts talking to me, asking me my ethnicity. Apparently he thought there was a link between my being Korean and he being half-Philippino, to which I almost gave him some sass, but decided it wasn't worth it, since he was a nice boy and I actually had to peer down to look at him.
So, it's 2am, and I'm now tasked with having to ride my bike home tipsy and in the dark. Also, this is about when my groin--well, upper upper thighs--are feeling really sore from the bike seat and from residual rock climbing pains, and I'm biking and there are few cars out but a couple of them honk and I'm slightly swerving... but the happy ending here is that I discovered the Star Market on Comm Ave is open 24/7!!! so I get off my bike and wheel it through the supermarket, pick up some California rolls, burritos, a pint of blueberries and a peach (what?), cradle them in my hands along with my bike helmet, WHILE steering my bike, while trying to get to the checkout. Within 5ish minutes, I am home, stuffing food in my face while watching Kitchen Confidential on hulu. I will wake up dazed and dehydrated at 8:30am, shower, then eat leftover burrito and drink ginger ale while blogging in the theology library. Wearing last night's daisy dukes. And...scene!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
lessons learned
last week was our second ‘eating adventures’ night, where 12 of us assembled in the middle of nowhere miami on a Thursday night, to eat nicaraguan cusine. It was my wholly random pick: i just searched 'yelp' until i found something unique that i had never eaten before, and that had good ratings... anyway, i had no idea how far it was from the beach until two highways later, i arrived 15 minutes late to my own festivity. Ah well. The joint, called cerro negro, was more than happy to have us since it was a large-ish place, and mostly empty.
We started things off with some nicaraguan beers and an assortment of their best appetizers: included in this mix was fried cheese (much like paneer), huge ribs, blood sausage (a variant that included rice, which was interesting; they were formed into little patties), stewed pork, yuca, wings, fried pork skin, and nameless other things i cant remember. For dinner, a few of us shared the ‘typical’ nica menu items: deep fried whole snapper with an onion/tomato/sweet and sour sauce; chimmicurri steak; and smoked pork loin– and nothing would be complete of course, without the requisite rice, beans, and sweet plaintains. the pork was simply outstanding, but I think the appetizer shabang was the best part, since it was all new stuff (or at least, a new take on familiarish items). for the most part, our experience of nica food was like a cross between any kind of latin american/cuban cuisine. Still, tried a new thing, which is never bad.
Friday night there was even more eating: after work, nicole came over and we headed to sandbar for some much needed relief -or at least much needed for me– on Friday, work was almost unbearable. it made me remember why i disliked or felt uncomfortable in my job for the first several months, mostly because i was badgered, yelled at, harassed, etc for the entire afternoon. Sometimes, it made me want to cry. Other times, it just reminded me that thankfully it will be all over soon enough. All the time, it made me want to give a certain someone lessons on how to be a better, more understanding employer. Enough of that though.
Post-drinks, we headed to fifi’s (twice in one week!) to meet up w others for some fresh seafood. Kevin & i split a snapper, and somewhere during the meal, he told me that in korea, the youngest gets to eat the eyes, for good luck. Not one to be challenged, i then ate an eye. This turned the rest of the meal into a battle between kevin and i: he then ate the other eye, but couldnt do it, so spit it out, so then i tried to eat it; then we shared the tongue; and so on. Grossed out? Everyone at the table was totally enjoying the demasculinazation of kevin, while at the same time, appreciating my desire to one-up him. In retrospect, i can only imagine what the customers and waitstaff thought of us.
Because they had finally experienced it and fallen in love with it several hours earlier, nicole, brook & i then headed back to sandbar for one last round of drinks. Granted, at that time, we had certainly had enough, but it was still early for a Friday night. There was some dancing in our seats, lots of laughing and inappropriate joking, and then finally, i got the door-to-door service drop off, and to bed.
Saturday morning, i woke up early to head to a boxing class!!! um. It was amazing. to say the least. my co-worker amanda had been going every Tuesday after work, and it was conveniently in my neighb at a boxing gym, so ashley & i agreed to check it out. The Saturday morning class was aptly named, ‘wake and bake’. Got there, got my hands wrapped, donned a pair of loaner gloves, and took a position on the floor by one of the bags. The entire gym consisted of a mat space, where there were about 20-25 big boxing bags hanging from the ceiling; a ring; spinning bikes; an outside/non-covered portion with another ring; and some weight machines. Totally simple. No air conditioning, just some fans, and the front-wall that faced the street had all the window-panes open. It was hot. There was serious sweat: the instructor would show us a few moves (leg work and punching) and then yell; BAGS! At which point you would turn and punch the shit out of your bag, doing the same move. In the interim, there were jumping jacks, push-ups, running in place, and planks. When the teacher wasnt yelling or blowing his whistle, a siren (as in, a firehouse siren) would go off for a minute or so. There was literally sweat rolling off of everyone. After 30 minutes, we then moved from the bags over to the spinning bikes, where i thought i might die. Thankfully, the spinning only lasted for about 5 minutes before we headed right back to the bags. An insane, insane workout, but so much fun. All the while, listening to michael jackson and other random music, although most of the time, there’s a dj. No frills, but exhilarating. who knew kicking the shit out of something would be so much fun???
By this point, i was so pumped: amanda dropped me off, i quickly showered, and then got into my car to meet chanel, nicole, annie and tracy for brunch in coconut grove at a little french bistro (le buchon de grove). the adreneline was still going strong, right until i sat down, ordered my omelette, and drank my mimosa, at which point i totally crashed and could barely move.
Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon was low-key and involved the farmers market, pool-time, and tv. Around 6.30, i rallied to go buy some ingredients for this thai-chicken dish (laddo?), took the bus to justins, and made dinner for justin, ashley & anton before people came over to justins & we all got ready to go out & celebrate josh's (another co-workers) birthday at a club. I know, typical. I hadnt actually been to this one before- karu and y, which is in downtownish miami (right near where the nada art fair had been this past December). sometime right before we left justins, anton convinced the three of us to do vodka shots.
I am starting to think that should never be allowed.
so we get to the club. I was wearing insane heels from forever 21 that look like dominatrix shoes with all these faux-leather straps everywhere (some balenciaga rip offs, no doubt), and while i managed to dance for at least a few hours, i also managed to topple over at one point, bringing justin down with me, and literally skinning one of my knees on my graceful descent behind a potted plant. At that point, thankfully, ashley & anton were ready to roll, and i made them take me with them, cabbed it up to my neighb for surprisingly amazing pizza, they fought while i ate (and tried to avoid eye-contact with this random couple that i had met one night in sandbar), and then they dropped me off at home. (i insisted on walking, since we were only on 67th street, but as soon as i stood up post-pizza, i remembered the burning sensation from the shoes. What a problem. Someone should manufacture a topical anesthetic for women’s feet).
Although i woke up feeling like i would die, the weather agreed with me and kept it cool & rainy so that i had a perfect excuse to lay about, read, swim, and cook (frittata and braised celery), ending the day with ‘schenectady ny’ (surprisingly weird and depressing).
So now, its Monday, its gray and drizzly, i have an unrelenting headache, and i wish i could crawl back into bed. looking on the bright side, though, (1) tonight we’re going to see beyonce!!! and (2) the boss is gone and will be for three weeks. This is enough to make anyone happy. Now if only my body would stop hurting from boxing class...
xoxo
We started things off with some nicaraguan beers and an assortment of their best appetizers: included in this mix was fried cheese (much like paneer), huge ribs, blood sausage (a variant that included rice, which was interesting; they were formed into little patties), stewed pork, yuca, wings, fried pork skin, and nameless other things i cant remember. For dinner, a few of us shared the ‘typical’ nica menu items: deep fried whole snapper with an onion/tomato/sweet and sour sauce; chimmicurri steak; and smoked pork loin– and nothing would be complete of course, without the requisite rice, beans, and sweet plaintains. the pork was simply outstanding, but I think the appetizer shabang was the best part, since it was all new stuff (or at least, a new take on familiarish items). for the most part, our experience of nica food was like a cross between any kind of latin american/cuban cuisine. Still, tried a new thing, which is never bad.
Friday night there was even more eating: after work, nicole came over and we headed to sandbar for some much needed relief -or at least much needed for me– on Friday, work was almost unbearable. it made me remember why i disliked or felt uncomfortable in my job for the first several months, mostly because i was badgered, yelled at, harassed, etc for the entire afternoon. Sometimes, it made me want to cry. Other times, it just reminded me that thankfully it will be all over soon enough. All the time, it made me want to give a certain someone lessons on how to be a better, more understanding employer. Enough of that though.
Post-drinks, we headed to fifi’s (twice in one week!) to meet up w others for some fresh seafood. Kevin & i split a snapper, and somewhere during the meal, he told me that in korea, the youngest gets to eat the eyes, for good luck. Not one to be challenged, i then ate an eye. This turned the rest of the meal into a battle between kevin and i: he then ate the other eye, but couldnt do it, so spit it out, so then i tried to eat it; then we shared the tongue; and so on. Grossed out? Everyone at the table was totally enjoying the demasculinazation of kevin, while at the same time, appreciating my desire to one-up him. In retrospect, i can only imagine what the customers and waitstaff thought of us.
Because they had finally experienced it and fallen in love with it several hours earlier, nicole, brook & i then headed back to sandbar for one last round of drinks. Granted, at that time, we had certainly had enough, but it was still early for a Friday night. There was some dancing in our seats, lots of laughing and inappropriate joking, and then finally, i got the door-to-door service drop off, and to bed.
Saturday morning, i woke up early to head to a boxing class!!! um. It was amazing. to say the least. my co-worker amanda had been going every Tuesday after work, and it was conveniently in my neighb at a boxing gym, so ashley & i agreed to check it out. The Saturday morning class was aptly named, ‘wake and bake’. Got there, got my hands wrapped, donned a pair of loaner gloves, and took a position on the floor by one of the bags. The entire gym consisted of a mat space, where there were about 20-25 big boxing bags hanging from the ceiling; a ring; spinning bikes; an outside/non-covered portion with another ring; and some weight machines. Totally simple. No air conditioning, just some fans, and the front-wall that faced the street had all the window-panes open. It was hot. There was serious sweat: the instructor would show us a few moves (leg work and punching) and then yell; BAGS! At which point you would turn and punch the shit out of your bag, doing the same move. In the interim, there were jumping jacks, push-ups, running in place, and planks. When the teacher wasnt yelling or blowing his whistle, a siren (as in, a firehouse siren) would go off for a minute or so. There was literally sweat rolling off of everyone. After 30 minutes, we then moved from the bags over to the spinning bikes, where i thought i might die. Thankfully, the spinning only lasted for about 5 minutes before we headed right back to the bags. An insane, insane workout, but so much fun. All the while, listening to michael jackson and other random music, although most of the time, there’s a dj. No frills, but exhilarating. who knew kicking the shit out of something would be so much fun???
By this point, i was so pumped: amanda dropped me off, i quickly showered, and then got into my car to meet chanel, nicole, annie and tracy for brunch in coconut grove at a little french bistro (le buchon de grove). the adreneline was still going strong, right until i sat down, ordered my omelette, and drank my mimosa, at which point i totally crashed and could barely move.
Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon was low-key and involved the farmers market, pool-time, and tv. Around 6.30, i rallied to go buy some ingredients for this thai-chicken dish (laddo?), took the bus to justins, and made dinner for justin, ashley & anton before people came over to justins & we all got ready to go out & celebrate josh's (another co-workers) birthday at a club. I know, typical. I hadnt actually been to this one before- karu and y, which is in downtownish miami (right near where the nada art fair had been this past December). sometime right before we left justins, anton convinced the three of us to do vodka shots.
I am starting to think that should never be allowed.
so we get to the club. I was wearing insane heels from forever 21 that look like dominatrix shoes with all these faux-leather straps everywhere (some balenciaga rip offs, no doubt), and while i managed to dance for at least a few hours, i also managed to topple over at one point, bringing justin down with me, and literally skinning one of my knees on my graceful descent behind a potted plant. At that point, thankfully, ashley & anton were ready to roll, and i made them take me with them, cabbed it up to my neighb for surprisingly amazing pizza, they fought while i ate (and tried to avoid eye-contact with this random couple that i had met one night in sandbar), and then they dropped me off at home. (i insisted on walking, since we were only on 67th street, but as soon as i stood up post-pizza, i remembered the burning sensation from the shoes. What a problem. Someone should manufacture a topical anesthetic for women’s feet).
Although i woke up feeling like i would die, the weather agreed with me and kept it cool & rainy so that i had a perfect excuse to lay about, read, swim, and cook (frittata and braised celery), ending the day with ‘schenectady ny’ (surprisingly weird and depressing).
So now, its Monday, its gray and drizzly, i have an unrelenting headache, and i wish i could crawl back into bed. looking on the bright side, though, (1) tonight we’re going to see beyonce!!! and (2) the boss is gone and will be for three weeks. This is enough to make anyone happy. Now if only my body would stop hurting from boxing class...
xoxo
Sunday, June 28, 2009
P: Bad, Bad Carbo Habit!
I am getting myself into big trouble. I've been doing work lately at Panera Bread, because the theology library is closed on the weekends. And...Panera has really, really good bread. And sandwiches. And decent salads. And unlimited refills on decaf coffee. Today, I have consumed--in the span of 4.5 hours:
-Whole grain bagel w sundried tomato cream cheese
-Half a turkey sandwich + 1/2 Greek salad
-Accompanying piece of seven grain baguette
-1 Thomas English' toasted corn cake, that looks like the top of a corn muffin squished down into a flat disc
-3 bites of leftover pasta and chicken (before I left my apt this morning)
-1 HIGHLY ADDICTIVE cinnamon crunch bagel.
-3 cups of decaf coffee
WTF? I'm not allowed to eat this much. It's all because I am procrastinating from my writing. At this rate, I'm not going to be able to fit through the door. Also, what's the point of all of this running if it just leads me to all of htis eating? Unless...all of the running is LEADING me to all of this eating.
I can only hope that when I get to Korea, the social pressure to be thin and anorexic will kick in and stop my awful carbo loading habit. How am I going to go tubing in Western Mass for July 4th--in a bikini--with this carb-induced spare tire around my midsection? AUGH!!!
Okay, I promise the next post will have more substance than the diary entry of an insecure teenage girl who didn't make the cheerleading squad.
-Whole grain bagel w sundried tomato cream cheese
-Half a turkey sandwich + 1/2 Greek salad
-Accompanying piece of seven grain baguette
-1 Thomas English' toasted corn cake, that looks like the top of a corn muffin squished down into a flat disc
-3 bites of leftover pasta and chicken (before I left my apt this morning)
-1 HIGHLY ADDICTIVE cinnamon crunch bagel.
-3 cups of decaf coffee
WTF? I'm not allowed to eat this much. It's all because I am procrastinating from my writing. At this rate, I'm not going to be able to fit through the door. Also, what's the point of all of this running if it just leads me to all of htis eating? Unless...all of the running is LEADING me to all of this eating.
I can only hope that when I get to Korea, the social pressure to be thin and anorexic will kick in and stop my awful carbo loading habit. How am I going to go tubing in Western Mass for July 4th--in a bikini--with this carb-induced spare tire around my midsection? AUGH!!!
Okay, I promise the next post will have more substance than the diary entry of an insecure teenage girl who didn't make the cheerleading squad.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
P: Hot Tub Action with Jessi, Ipswich Appleton Farms Run, and Other Sundries
Dudes:
I turned in my last academic paper of my graduate degree. Now I just have to buckle down and focus on my creative writing thesis, and all will be f-ing awesome!!! This week was tough, trying to bang out that paper on modern poetry while working on rewrites for a magazine essay contest. I was at the computer lab until 3:30am one night and 2am another night...not a pretty sight.
On the plus side, I did get to see JESSI!!! who's been here inBoston for the week to attend a conference. Shewas very prestigiously selected by her dept to attend, so it was kind of a big deal. I met her Wed night at the Doubletree hotel in a random part of Boston/Allston that's by the highway, and it's technically only 1.1 miles from my apt, but via public transport it would take an hour and 2 buses. So I walked, and it was kind of weird to get there. BUT it was totally worth it because then we dipped into the HOT TUB --holla!--and Jessi told me more about the various workshops she was attending, and then I got to take a sneak peek at some sample cases of high school students who were potential admittees to Hahvard. Naturally, this was all very nostalgic of the SATs number crunching days of our last two years at Bronx Science, where we were all in a mad panic about where we'd be applying based on what our test scores and GPA were (thankfully I applied early to Swat so I got to avoid much of that hooha).
We then headed to Back Bay for dinner at Typhoon, where we were joined by Jessi's colleague and her sister. It was a fun night of sushi, convo, and of course, the hot tub. It's so great to see old friends in new cities.
Then it was back to paper writing.
This morning I actually ran a 5k race in Ipswich, of all places. It's on the North Shore, some 20ish ? miles north of Boston. Apparently it's one of the oldest cities in all of America, and the race was on Appleton Farms, which is also one of the oldest continuously operated farms in America. My friend/former boss' boss Rebecca invited me to go with her husband Bob, and they are pretty bad-ass. Rebecca is 60, Bob's 71, and every weekend they're running races, hiking in NH or Vermont, biking... last summer they climbed Mt Kilimanjaro, a few summers before that they ran from the border of Mexico all the way up to Canada. I think it's awesome that they found each other--to have a life partner that enjoys all the same activities that you do. At this race (it was a very small race--just 200 ppl and I was the only person of my age group, essentially) it was all couples in the 30s and 40s, and then little kids or preteens. Some of the couples brought their baby strollers. I noticed this was also the case with the two other races I've run outside of Boston--the 5k in Portsmouth/Dover, NH and the aborted half-marathon in Newton. Who are these people, how are they so fit, and what on earth brought them together? Do they run so much because there's a social pressure WITHIN the couplehood to get up early and go for runs? Or did they come together through running? How do you do it with kids? And why do these women in the 30s and 40s have WAY better bodies than I do?
Rebecca noted that everyone in the race looked very English, unlike in Boston where everyone seems to look Irish. She's white and fair-featured herself, so she's allowed to say something like that. Then I looked around and agreed with her. Perhaps it made me a little wistful.
Anyway, the race, as mentioned, was on a farm, so you're passing cows (and occasionally cow manure), horses, a babbling creek...it was kind of cool. Also, my race time was ridiculous!!! I am still waiting for the test results to come out incorrect, but I had a PR (a personal record):
Mile 1: 7:29 min
Mile 2: 15:40
Finish: 24:11 (although it REALLY should have been 24:09)
Average speed: 7:48 min/mile
WTF?!!! I've never run that fast in my life. Regardless, I used it as an excuse to eat 2 lunches today and I'm now on my first dinner. I will probably have my second dinner circa forty-five past midnight.
I turned in my last academic paper of my graduate degree. Now I just have to buckle down and focus on my creative writing thesis, and all will be f-ing awesome!!! This week was tough, trying to bang out that paper on modern poetry while working on rewrites for a magazine essay contest. I was at the computer lab until 3:30am one night and 2am another night...not a pretty sight.
On the plus side, I did get to see JESSI!!! who's been here inBoston for the week to attend a conference. Shewas very prestigiously selected by her dept to attend, so it was kind of a big deal. I met her Wed night at the Doubletree hotel in a random part of Boston/Allston that's by the highway, and it's technically only 1.1 miles from my apt, but via public transport it would take an hour and 2 buses. So I walked, and it was kind of weird to get there. BUT it was totally worth it because then we dipped into the HOT TUB --holla!--and Jessi told me more about the various workshops she was attending, and then I got to take a sneak peek at some sample cases of high school students who were potential admittees to Hahvard. Naturally, this was all very nostalgic of the SATs number crunching days of our last two years at Bronx Science, where we were all in a mad panic about where we'd be applying based on what our test scores and GPA were (thankfully I applied early to Swat so I got to avoid much of that hooha).
We then headed to Back Bay for dinner at Typhoon, where we were joined by Jessi's colleague and her sister. It was a fun night of sushi, convo, and of course, the hot tub. It's so great to see old friends in new cities.
Then it was back to paper writing.
This morning I actually ran a 5k race in Ipswich, of all places. It's on the North Shore, some 20ish ? miles north of Boston. Apparently it's one of the oldest cities in all of America, and the race was on Appleton Farms, which is also one of the oldest continuously operated farms in America. My friend/former boss' boss Rebecca invited me to go with her husband Bob, and they are pretty bad-ass. Rebecca is 60, Bob's 71, and every weekend they're running races, hiking in NH or Vermont, biking... last summer they climbed Mt Kilimanjaro, a few summers before that they ran from the border of Mexico all the way up to Canada. I think it's awesome that they found each other--to have a life partner that enjoys all the same activities that you do. At this race (it was a very small race--just 200 ppl and I was the only person of my age group, essentially) it was all couples in the 30s and 40s, and then little kids or preteens. Some of the couples brought their baby strollers. I noticed this was also the case with the two other races I've run outside of Boston--the 5k in Portsmouth/Dover, NH and the aborted half-marathon in Newton. Who are these people, how are they so fit, and what on earth brought them together? Do they run so much because there's a social pressure WITHIN the couplehood to get up early and go for runs? Or did they come together through running? How do you do it with kids? And why do these women in the 30s and 40s have WAY better bodies than I do?
Rebecca noted that everyone in the race looked very English, unlike in Boston where everyone seems to look Irish. She's white and fair-featured herself, so she's allowed to say something like that. Then I looked around and agreed with her. Perhaps it made me a little wistful.
Anyway, the race, as mentioned, was on a farm, so you're passing cows (and occasionally cow manure), horses, a babbling creek...it was kind of cool. Also, my race time was ridiculous!!! I am still waiting for the test results to come out incorrect, but I had a PR (a personal record):
Mile 1: 7:29 min
Mile 2: 15:40
Finish: 24:11 (although it REALLY should have been 24:09)
Average speed: 7:48 min/mile
WTF?!!! I've never run that fast in my life. Regardless, I used it as an excuse to eat 2 lunches today and I'm now on my first dinner. I will probably have my second dinner circa forty-five past midnight.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
boat rides & lightning storms
Ive been meaning to dish on the fabulous boat ride last weekend for the past 3 days but believe it or not, work has been catching up with me (i know, ridiculous!!). anyway, here goes it:
we begin this story at last Friday, when we all hit monty’s after work for a little HH action, bringing along our new coworker martha & her finance (who joined us there). Being a Friday, there were only two major drawbacks to the plan:
(1) it was insanely packed, which made it difficult to find a table; at first, we planned on going down to the tables alongside the water, but then a server dashed our dreams and told us that they werent allowed to serve alcohol out there anymore, although he emphasized that we could still eat and "drink cola" there. Unacceptable. This unfortunately meant we were crushed into a corner table by the insane dj booth, although this time, there was an actual dj, and not just a dude singing along to a karaoke machine (although if youve been to monty’s and know what im talking about, you likely have an odd affinity for that character).
(2) it was insanely hot. It was like wearing a wet hot wool sweater. No joke. Anyway you kind of cant let that kind of thing stop you when you live here (or so i assume?) so we cheerily dove into many plates of nachos and pitchers.
A few of us grabbed dinner afterwards at one of those japanese restaurants where you think you’re going to sit cross-legged on the floor, but actually, it only *looked* like that, and really, you awkwardly put your legs & feet into an ever-deeper opening so that you only *looked* like you were sitting on the floor, but in actuality, you were siting at a table that was like, 3 or 4 feet below all the other tables. Totally, totally weird.
Saturday i had to set my alarm (even though the night stopped at sushi), woke up at 9.30, quickly threw my stuff together, and ran to the market to get a collection of snacky food items for the day. Justin came to pick me up but after following the relatively confusing instructions on how to get to the dock, we realized it was literally like a 5 minute walk from my house, right near vaca gorda (the amazing steak place) and my local farmers market. Ironic. I never knew docks existed over there. Anyway, there were 7 of us, and a small baby, and we got out on the water, then eventually circled some of the bay, picked up two more passengers, and then circled out by the beach-side, where we dropped anchor about a mile out from the sand and swam with funoodles, miller lights in beer cozies, and lots of sunblock.
At one point, anton freaked us all out, saying that he had seen a shark fin nearby; which was confirmed by ashley; and again by one of the other people on our boat who was also a doctor who had recently had a shark bite in his hospital. Way to freak out a bunch of sun-exposed, mildly buzzed swimmers. Not a good idea... anyway we got over it eventually, ironically i dont think any of us actually left the ocean at that point, even with the threat of shark. A good deal of our time in the water involved people on the boat throwing grapes and cherries at those of us in the water; we would try and catch them in our mouths like seals. Im not sure how this game got started, although i suspect it was based on people on the boat just wanting to throw stuff at us. Oh, friends. Magically the afternoon disappeared, and we eventually motored back up and back to the dock by about 4.30 or so. Once you were out of the cool water, or not on a fast-moving boat, you were just overcome with how unbelievably hot it was: about 95 degrees, heavy and humid. It was painful.
When we got off the boat, we all engaged in dock-side spray downs to keep cool, and parted ways. I somehow spent the next few hours laying comatose in bed, watching ‘the real housewives of nj.’ but i couldnt even pay attention to that. Eventually i rallied for a run, hit the market, and then watched a movie. But even that took tremendous amounts of effort.
Sunday was perhaps one of the most relaxing days ive had in a long time: i felt no need to go outside, knowing full well that it was 95 again, and also know that i was still minorly-sunburnt; so i hung around, read, ran the treadmill, and eventually ran some errands. I swam, mopped, listened to npr, and made some kind of chicken thai dish that was in the nytimes last week. Lovely & uneventful and relaxing.
This week has been, thankfully, more of the same– although every morning has recently been a struggle to get up. Monday night my friend vera from skidmore was in town, so we met up and shared a fish at fifi’s; afterwards, we took a walk in the neighborhood, and she showed me where her family has a jewelry store- an old mom&pop shop– and i promised to go back and visit her uncle when it was open. On our way back to get her car, we stopped and walked down to the beach where there was this amazing, insane, gorgeous, stunning lightning storm: there were clouds all over, but you would see the lightning light up patches of sky in the very very far distance over the ocean, see lightning bolts, just over and over and over. It was totally magical, and difficult to get up- even knowing how tired i was. It felt like one of those moments when something out there is communicating, reminding you how lucky you are to be alive and see beautiful, natural, unexpected things. The bigger picture stuff, the ultimate stuff that has no end... its funny, i felt similarly last night, driving home from pilates when there was one little patch of sky where you could see vibrant yellows and oranges as the sun was setting; a reminder that you dont get to see these kind of things in other places, get too distracted looking down.
Tomorrow night is our second installment of ‘eating adventures’- we’ve got a group of 12 going to my pick- a Nicaraguan place (not that i know what kind of food that is) - but im very excited. Its a nice way to try new things and spend time with friends, and a little something different than always going to the same old standby places.
Well, thats really all she wrote for now. Time to finish my blueberry tea and get back to work... happy hump day!
we begin this story at last Friday, when we all hit monty’s after work for a little HH action, bringing along our new coworker martha & her finance (who joined us there). Being a Friday, there were only two major drawbacks to the plan:
(1) it was insanely packed, which made it difficult to find a table; at first, we planned on going down to the tables alongside the water, but then a server dashed our dreams and told us that they werent allowed to serve alcohol out there anymore, although he emphasized that we could still eat and "drink cola" there. Unacceptable. This unfortunately meant we were crushed into a corner table by the insane dj booth, although this time, there was an actual dj, and not just a dude singing along to a karaoke machine (although if youve been to monty’s and know what im talking about, you likely have an odd affinity for that character).
(2) it was insanely hot. It was like wearing a wet hot wool sweater. No joke. Anyway you kind of cant let that kind of thing stop you when you live here (or so i assume?) so we cheerily dove into many plates of nachos and pitchers.
A few of us grabbed dinner afterwards at one of those japanese restaurants where you think you’re going to sit cross-legged on the floor, but actually, it only *looked* like that, and really, you awkwardly put your legs & feet into an ever-deeper opening so that you only *looked* like you were sitting on the floor, but in actuality, you were siting at a table that was like, 3 or 4 feet below all the other tables. Totally, totally weird.
Saturday i had to set my alarm (even though the night stopped at sushi), woke up at 9.30, quickly threw my stuff together, and ran to the market to get a collection of snacky food items for the day. Justin came to pick me up but after following the relatively confusing instructions on how to get to the dock, we realized it was literally like a 5 minute walk from my house, right near vaca gorda (the amazing steak place) and my local farmers market. Ironic. I never knew docks existed over there. Anyway, there were 7 of us, and a small baby, and we got out on the water, then eventually circled some of the bay, picked up two more passengers, and then circled out by the beach-side, where we dropped anchor about a mile out from the sand and swam with funoodles, miller lights in beer cozies, and lots of sunblock.
At one point, anton freaked us all out, saying that he had seen a shark fin nearby; which was confirmed by ashley; and again by one of the other people on our boat who was also a doctor who had recently had a shark bite in his hospital. Way to freak out a bunch of sun-exposed, mildly buzzed swimmers. Not a good idea... anyway we got over it eventually, ironically i dont think any of us actually left the ocean at that point, even with the threat of shark. A good deal of our time in the water involved people on the boat throwing grapes and cherries at those of us in the water; we would try and catch them in our mouths like seals. Im not sure how this game got started, although i suspect it was based on people on the boat just wanting to throw stuff at us. Oh, friends. Magically the afternoon disappeared, and we eventually motored back up and back to the dock by about 4.30 or so. Once you were out of the cool water, or not on a fast-moving boat, you were just overcome with how unbelievably hot it was: about 95 degrees, heavy and humid. It was painful.
When we got off the boat, we all engaged in dock-side spray downs to keep cool, and parted ways. I somehow spent the next few hours laying comatose in bed, watching ‘the real housewives of nj.’ but i couldnt even pay attention to that. Eventually i rallied for a run, hit the market, and then watched a movie. But even that took tremendous amounts of effort.
Sunday was perhaps one of the most relaxing days ive had in a long time: i felt no need to go outside, knowing full well that it was 95 again, and also know that i was still minorly-sunburnt; so i hung around, read, ran the treadmill, and eventually ran some errands. I swam, mopped, listened to npr, and made some kind of chicken thai dish that was in the nytimes last week. Lovely & uneventful and relaxing.
This week has been, thankfully, more of the same– although every morning has recently been a struggle to get up. Monday night my friend vera from skidmore was in town, so we met up and shared a fish at fifi’s; afterwards, we took a walk in the neighborhood, and she showed me where her family has a jewelry store- an old mom&pop shop– and i promised to go back and visit her uncle when it was open. On our way back to get her car, we stopped and walked down to the beach where there was this amazing, insane, gorgeous, stunning lightning storm: there were clouds all over, but you would see the lightning light up patches of sky in the very very far distance over the ocean, see lightning bolts, just over and over and over. It was totally magical, and difficult to get up- even knowing how tired i was. It felt like one of those moments when something out there is communicating, reminding you how lucky you are to be alive and see beautiful, natural, unexpected things. The bigger picture stuff, the ultimate stuff that has no end... its funny, i felt similarly last night, driving home from pilates when there was one little patch of sky where you could see vibrant yellows and oranges as the sun was setting; a reminder that you dont get to see these kind of things in other places, get too distracted looking down.
Tomorrow night is our second installment of ‘eating adventures’- we’ve got a group of 12 going to my pick- a Nicaraguan place (not that i know what kind of food that is) - but im very excited. Its a nice way to try new things and spend time with friends, and a little something different than always going to the same old standby places.
Well, thats really all she wrote for now. Time to finish my blueberry tea and get back to work... happy hump day!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
P: Papers on Sardonic Love Poetry
I am working on my last academic paper of my graduate degree for my Modern Poetry class, and the topic I've chosen to work on is love poetry. But not just any love poetry--I am looking at 3 poems--Yeats' NEver Give All the Heart, Auden's The More Loving One, and Joseph Brodsky's Love Song--because they all subvert the traditional tropes of love poetry. In other words, they are irreverent. Sardonic. Parodic. I am leading into the paper with an acoustic rendering of the Magnetic Fields' The Book of Love because (a) I guess I'm kind of kissing up to my prof, because he kicks off every class with at least a few youtube clips of songs and, more importantly (b) it illustrates the ambivalence that emerges when countered with the cliches of love and other such subjects. It's rather an interesting week to tackle such a paper, as this week has been a bit emotionally draining, and my thesis isn't working well, and I'm also trying to write/revise an essay for a contest with Gla- m. our Magazine.
But to further the appropriation of other people's words, I've included some lines of verse from a different Magnetic Fields song whose melody I can't stand but whose lyrics I think are awfully bittersweet:
Love is Like a Bottle of Gin:
It makes you blind, it does you in
It makes you think you're pretty tough
It makes you prone to crime and sin
It makes you say things off the cuff
It's very small and made of glass
and grossly over-advertised
It turns a genius to an ass
and makes a fool think he is wise
It could make you regret your birth
or turn cartwheels in your best suit
It costs a lot more than it's worth
and yet there is no substitute
They keep it on a higher shelf
the older and more pure it grows
It has no color in itself
but it can make you see rainbows
You can find it on the Bowery
or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain
You just get out what they put in
and they never put in enough
Love is like a bottle of gin
but a bottle of gin is not like love.
But to further the appropriation of other people's words, I've included some lines of verse from a different Magnetic Fields song whose melody I can't stand but whose lyrics I think are awfully bittersweet:
Love is Like a Bottle of Gin:
It makes you blind, it does you in
It makes you think you're pretty tough
It makes you prone to crime and sin
It makes you say things off the cuff
It's very small and made of glass
and grossly over-advertised
It turns a genius to an ass
and makes a fool think he is wise
It could make you regret your birth
or turn cartwheels in your best suit
It costs a lot more than it's worth
and yet there is no substitute
They keep it on a higher shelf
the older and more pure it grows
It has no color in itself
but it can make you see rainbows
You can find it on the Bowery
or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain
You just get out what they put in
and they never put in enough
Love is like a bottle of gin
but a bottle of gin is not like love.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Little musings
Im going to try & be concise (yet thorough) bc i feel like i’ve gotten nothing accomplished today. Here goes.
(1) Monday was rachel’s birthday, so we went right out for drinks after work, to a place called ‘bin 18', a wine bar, which was in a nice open loft-like space, very airy, with a 2-for-1 wine deal and had such a good time that by the time we left, i got convinced into coming over for dinner at ashley & anton’s house... anton made us tuna, which was delicious at the time, but proceeded to wake me up every other hour in the middle of the night with stomach cramps. At first i thought i was being paranoid, but apparently the same thing happened to ashley. This kind of a Monday evening ensures the rest of the week will be super long...
(2) Tuesday night i reignited my passion for popcorn. This resulted in way too much garlic powder being sprinkled on the kernals and insane garlic breath for the next 20 hours. thus, one of those rare moments that i was happy to be sleeping alone.
(3) running on the beach! Im back at it. It has resulted in hurt knees, a weird swollen tendon on the side of my left leg, and a slightly-swollen right ankle. Wtf. Maybe i had the right idea taking a break?
(4) we have a new coworker! She started Monday & has been quite pleasant thus far. However, if i have to hear new haven being referenced one more time during lunch, i might die. Note to self: never let children attend yale in any capacity.
(5) last night i ate & drank like a russian. We had our inaugeral night of "eating adventures" which involved a group of us going out to an ethnic dinner in the miami-area; anton hosted this one, and picked a random russian spot inside a motel (literally) way north on the beach. He ordered all the food for us, which was surprisingly good: pickled vegetables; an amazing salad with cucumber, tomato, yogurt cheese and walnuts; blintzes (some mushroom, others with ground beef); cheese-oozing out of filo-dough; pilaf; yogurt soup with dill, radish, and potato; borsht; lamb, chicken and sausage skewers; and a random assortment of russian cookies for desert. We were a rowdy loud table of 7 or 8, and there were only 2 or 3 other tables of diners in the place; our waitresses were dressed in some kind of festive-russian-folk-clothing, and we were supplying the entertainment for the whole place, drinking wine, beer, and a fermented-yeast non-alcoholic drink (it looked like beer but smelled intensely like fresh bread and was slightly carbonated). Eventually we started on the mls of vodka. Yes, ml. As in a mili litre. Like you would know how much that is? No, nor did we. So we would order them 300 ml at a time, everyone would do shots, and we’d get another round. In a carafe. Anton would have us all push our shot glasses into the center, and we would toast and sling back (except for those unlucky designated drivers). At some point i thought i could keep up with anton, which was a mistake, being that he is both a man, bigger than me, and half russian.
Towards the end of the night, rachel & i were talking and not paying attention to anyone else, and suddenly realized we were the only people left at the table. Everyone else got up and had left. So instead of thinking, "wow, time to sober up!", I proceeded to throw back the last vodka shot. Although we briefly stopped by sandbar, it was mostly to pee, order beers, and then not drink them, and then i was dropped off at home where i proceeded to responsibly set my alarm for my morning drs appt, pour myself a glass of water, and go into the bathroom, where i promptly pulled all the towels off the racks, made a little hampster nest, and fell asleep on the floor. I woke up an hour or so later, ready to go to bed. Totally, totally insane. So, in fact, this is a wonderful place for me to tell this story after patty’s incredibly sweet missive below about my accomplishments: even if sometimes i sound like an alcoholic, i am simply a girl who was trapped in a library for 3 straight yrs and is celebrating her ultimate freedom.
(6) the best part? I somehow managed to get to the drs office this morning, and spent the next 2.5 hrs waiting to actually *see* the doctor while watching an insane show on national geographic tv about americans who were dropped to live in ALASKA and camp their way out; an amazing reality show. Highly recommend. I could have sat there alllll day.
(7) second best part? At some point during our eating adventures at the russian restaurant, one of the other participants, spencer, invited us all on his boat for tomorrow! Hooray! Unfortch we leave early in the morning; but its completely and utterly worth it to spend the day on the water with friends. I know, i know. Rough life...
xoxoxo
(1) Monday was rachel’s birthday, so we went right out for drinks after work, to a place called ‘bin 18', a wine bar, which was in a nice open loft-like space, very airy, with a 2-for-1 wine deal and had such a good time that by the time we left, i got convinced into coming over for dinner at ashley & anton’s house... anton made us tuna, which was delicious at the time, but proceeded to wake me up every other hour in the middle of the night with stomach cramps. At first i thought i was being paranoid, but apparently the same thing happened to ashley. This kind of a Monday evening ensures the rest of the week will be super long...
(2) Tuesday night i reignited my passion for popcorn. This resulted in way too much garlic powder being sprinkled on the kernals and insane garlic breath for the next 20 hours. thus, one of those rare moments that i was happy to be sleeping alone.
(3) running on the beach! Im back at it. It has resulted in hurt knees, a weird swollen tendon on the side of my left leg, and a slightly-swollen right ankle. Wtf. Maybe i had the right idea taking a break?
(4) we have a new coworker! She started Monday & has been quite pleasant thus far. However, if i have to hear new haven being referenced one more time during lunch, i might die. Note to self: never let children attend yale in any capacity.
(5) last night i ate & drank like a russian. We had our inaugeral night of "eating adventures" which involved a group of us going out to an ethnic dinner in the miami-area; anton hosted this one, and picked a random russian spot inside a motel (literally) way north on the beach. He ordered all the food for us, which was surprisingly good: pickled vegetables; an amazing salad with cucumber, tomato, yogurt cheese and walnuts; blintzes (some mushroom, others with ground beef); cheese-oozing out of filo-dough; pilaf; yogurt soup with dill, radish, and potato; borsht; lamb, chicken and sausage skewers; and a random assortment of russian cookies for desert. We were a rowdy loud table of 7 or 8, and there were only 2 or 3 other tables of diners in the place; our waitresses were dressed in some kind of festive-russian-folk-clothing, and we were supplying the entertainment for the whole place, drinking wine, beer, and a fermented-yeast non-alcoholic drink (it looked like beer but smelled intensely like fresh bread and was slightly carbonated). Eventually we started on the mls of vodka. Yes, ml. As in a mili litre. Like you would know how much that is? No, nor did we. So we would order them 300 ml at a time, everyone would do shots, and we’d get another round. In a carafe. Anton would have us all push our shot glasses into the center, and we would toast and sling back (except for those unlucky designated drivers). At some point i thought i could keep up with anton, which was a mistake, being that he is both a man, bigger than me, and half russian.
Towards the end of the night, rachel & i were talking and not paying attention to anyone else, and suddenly realized we were the only people left at the table. Everyone else got up and had left. So instead of thinking, "wow, time to sober up!", I proceeded to throw back the last vodka shot. Although we briefly stopped by sandbar, it was mostly to pee, order beers, and then not drink them, and then i was dropped off at home where i proceeded to responsibly set my alarm for my morning drs appt, pour myself a glass of water, and go into the bathroom, where i promptly pulled all the towels off the racks, made a little hampster nest, and fell asleep on the floor. I woke up an hour or so later, ready to go to bed. Totally, totally insane. So, in fact, this is a wonderful place for me to tell this story after patty’s incredibly sweet missive below about my accomplishments: even if sometimes i sound like an alcoholic, i am simply a girl who was trapped in a library for 3 straight yrs and is celebrating her ultimate freedom.
(6) the best part? I somehow managed to get to the drs office this morning, and spent the next 2.5 hrs waiting to actually *see* the doctor while watching an insane show on national geographic tv about americans who were dropped to live in ALASKA and camp their way out; an amazing reality show. Highly recommend. I could have sat there alllll day.
(7) second best part? At some point during our eating adventures at the russian restaurant, one of the other participants, spencer, invited us all on his boat for tomorrow! Hooray! Unfortch we leave early in the morning; but its completely and utterly worth it to spend the day on the water with friends. I know, i know. Rough life...
xoxoxo
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