Craigemorsels

Vietnam, briefly

2012-01-26T12:08:00.001-05:00

I wrote this over the course of a 5 day trip to Saigon.

Jeff and I have decided that it's like finding a 4-leaf clover if we spot 5 people riding a scooter. So far we've only seen 4 at once and some unusual loads including: a tree, 100 balloons, a bookshelf, 4 large bags of coconuts, 8 wooden folding chairs, 6 milk crates full of bottles.

All adults wear helmets on mopeds, but kids do not. Just hats. Hardly any local women wear skirts. I suppose this is for practical reasons given the main mode of transport. The daily uniform for many older women seems to be pajamas. I guess that's the local version of the leisure suit.

The CDC says to avoid street food, but we've chosen to ignore this advice. So far so good. We've had some incredible soups costing about a dollar a piece.

Per Anthony Bourdain's advice we also went to "snail street" and had delicious seafood at an open air restaurant called Lucky. I'd never had cockles before so I wasn't sure if the fact that none of the shells were open was a bad sign. They tasted so good, though! And neither of us got sick so who knows. I guess we got lucky! Beers there were $0.50 a piece and we sat at a kids table on kids chairs just like all the locals.

Gambling on cards is big here. Seems to be popular with all ages and is even done at family gatherings.

Nose picking in public is rampant.

Update: I saw two motos carrying 5 people and one with 6! Three adults, 3 kids.

We took a day trip to the Mekong Delta, which was super touristy. I can't really say it was worth it, especially when we heard from some Australians that on the Cu Chi tunnels tour they got to shoot AK-47s. I didn't want to do that tour because I knew I wouldn't want to crawl through narrow underground tunnels. Oh well.

People do still wear the conical hats, although mainly just people working outdoors.

Out of the comfort zone

2012-01-17T21:53:00.000-05:00

On Sunday I went on the treetop walk at MacRitchie reservoir. The portion of the walk in the trees is pretty short (although quite picturesque) and the rest of the walk is uphill on the way there and downhill on the way back. Needless to say, my calves are killing me. It's a good hurt, though.

There is so much to hear in the forest. I wanted to just stand still and listen at times (and rest!) but then a group would come along behind me being so loud, one even carrying a radio. I can't understand why you'd want to bring your own soundtrack to a tropical forest.

At one point I had paused beside a freshwater stream and two British women came along. One saw a bug and screamed and then the other screamed. Instantly the noise in the trees around me picked up to a much more intense shriek. It was like all the insects and frogs and whatever else were complaining about the ruckus. After the women passed by, the wildlife quieted back down.

When walking around Singapore there is a little moment every time I spot another white person and I know it's not just me because I have noticed many whites looking right at me, almost quizzically. I know they are thinking the same thing I am: where are you from and how did you wind up here? This gaze is held even longer when the encounter occurs outside of touristy areas.

Note: this is not the case if the whites are carrying maps in their hands. It's only when each white person clearly knows where she's headed and is wearing business attire (ie, not a tourist, although I have caught tourists looking at me with the gaze). It's not like there are so few whites, but we're definitely in the minority. And it's not even as if the others are American!

It's a strange thing. It's one of those things that's difficult to describe and you won't entirely believe me until you are in a similar situation.

It's the same way you can tell someone that it takes living in another country for at least a couple months to really appreciate that you are really and truly an American. So many of us believe that we don't belong in the US, that we're European, especially, at heart. But if you ask most anyone who has lived abroad for some time they will tell you that it was a wonderful experience and it was a bit of reverse culture shock to come back but they did realize they are American through and through. Try it. Ask around. There will be exceptions, of course.

My motto is to try anything once

2012-01-12T03:00:00.000-05:00

Christmas is huge in Singapore even though only half the country is Christian. Equally big is Chinese new year, which is coming up next week. Various celebratory foods and clothes, mainly for kids, are for sale everywhere.

I pass a construction site on my way to the train every day. When I came home at 9pm last night, I heard clanging and banging in there. I wonder if it's being worked on all night long.

Yong Tau Foo

This morning I took the small road next to the building as usual. A forklift zoomed by and a cherry picker was slowly maneuvering into place. Several men were walking across the road carrying heavy loads. I asked one man if it was still okay to go that way. He nodded in the affirmative and pointed the way. I walked quickly beneath the cherry picker and made my way to the station. I guess the onus is on the pedestrian to determine if it's safe to walk there?

I am in love with Australian nectarines. Oh man are they ever juicy and sweet. So far every day I have eaten two for breakfast along with some sort of soft bread thing from a bakery. The bakeries are everywhere. They sell these soft breads with a variety of toppings such as ham & cheese or coconut cream and chocolate sprinkles. My favorite so far have been the cheesy ones because they're a bit salty.

Would you guess that dried figs are good? I would not but I took a chance. And they are very good! I guess they are what's in Fig Newtons, but I'm not particularly fond of those, I think because they are too cakey.

I really miss knives. It doesn't help that often the chicken is hacked into pieces that include bones. And yet one is expected to dissect it with a fork and spoon.

The other day I got a soup at a place called Yong Tau Foo that was very delicious. You pick out the ingredients with a pair of tongs and then the proprietor puts them into a noodle soup for you (after you choose which type of noodle you want). There's no meat, just seafood, tofu and vegetables. I thought it was pretty great but come to find out this is a style of soup and there are way better stands that sell it. I can't wait to try the best one.

Beef stew

When I told my trainee (a Chinese Singaporean) that I liked the soup he replied, "Okay only lah." That means "meh" as best as I can tell. Or, in other words, he doesn't think much of the soup place I went to. Singaporeans say "lah" a lot. It means pretty much anything and is perhaps akin to the Canadian "eh?"

The other day I went to the Hungry Hippo for lunch with some coworkers. We sat down and a waitress brought menus and took drink orders. Today I went back because I was told the the beef stew special on Wednesdays is not to be missed. I sat down in the corner and proceeded to be ignored. I finally flagged down the waitress. She said "you sit here?!", laughed, and walked away. Frustrated, I got up and walked to the cashier. "I'd like to order the beef stew to stay." "Do you have a table?" "Yes!" "Well go sit down." I have no idea what I did wrong there but so what because that beef stew was indeed to die for.

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In 2010 I did a 365 photo project where I managed to take photos 350 days out of the 365. In 2011 I made a more ambitious attempt to record a short video every day. That wound up being simply too hard to accomplish, so I gave up. I missed this challenge, so this year I'm trying something new. I'm doing a photo collage every day. So far, I'm really liking this challenge, but I'm only a week in (I started a couple days late). The idea is to have the photos be more a day in the life sort of snapshot. Stay tuned to see how it evolves.

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Entries on my previous month-long stint in Singapore start here.

Escape to Indonesia

2012-01-09T21:55:00.002-05:00

I took a ferry over to Batam, Indonesia, on Saturday. The boat sped between the huge oil tankers anchored around Singapore Bay.

Tree house room

Shortly after arriving, I saw a Komodo Dragon crossing the road right in front of the taxi! The driver had to stop the car so that the huge lizard could waddle across the road.

I stayed at a resort with 8 rooms, one of which is the tree house room. I decided to splurge and stay in that one and I'm so glad I did. The bed is suspended from the ceiling and I was rocked to sleep. I'm not sure it would be as enjoyable with two people making it rock every time one person moved, however.

I got a deal on a couples spa package so instead of 3 hours of spa time I got all 6 hours. This may have been a tad too much spa time, but I can't say I regret it at all. On Saturday afternoon I got a Balinese massage, a facial, and a scalp massage. The scalp one is meant to do something for your hair. I don't know if it did, nor do I really care because the real reason I chose it is was for the washing and massaging.

On Sunday I had a shiatsu massage, a hot compress massage and a body scrub. I had never had shiatsu before. I'm definitely a fan of it now. It poured that day so instead of getting a tour of the island, I was taken to the mega-mall. As you can imagine, it's all relative just how mega it is.

The Indonesian rupiah coins feel like play money. I think they might be made of plastic. At an actually mega grocery store in the basement of the mall I bought a sackful of tasty snacks that cost me $3.50 US. They sell dourian cookies. I wonder if it's illegal to bring dourian cookies on the train in Singapore like it's illegal to bring a whole dourian.

At a traffic light in Batam there were signs that count down how many seconds are left before it changes red and green. So useful!

Settling in in Singapore

2012-01-03T20:08:00.001-05:00

Takeaway boxes are cardboard with a big sheet of plastic laid inside. You then wrap it around the food. This is probably less likely to leak than those stupid styrofoam containers.

I am staying in a sort of compound in a condo that has seen better days. The plus sides are that there are 4 pools on the compound and a private washer and dryer. And the condo has 2 bathrooms, which is certainly a luxury, although not so much until Jeff arrives. I wish I had brought my running stuff because there is a trail as well. I thought I was kidding myself in thinking that I'd spend any time exercising. Hell, I probably still am.

There isn't a lot near the compound except for a small hawker center (8 stands), an even smaller hawker center (3 stands), a small grocery store, a yogurt store that has not yet been open, and a bread store where I bought a package of chocolate bread (hot dog buns with a little bit of chocolate sprinkles and cream inside). Everything looks the same around the compound. Two of the three times I went out I walked exactly the opposite direction I thought I was going.

At the hawker center last night was a family with 3 young kids and a woman who must have been the auntie (nanny). The parents were rather manic while the auntie was completely calm. The father told her to grab a high chair for the youngest child, which she did. The toddler refused and she put it back. I guarantee the auntie knew it was fruitless. I know the culture of having a live-in nanny in a tiny apartment is the norm here but I still have a hard time accepting it.

I learned yesterday that men are called uncle, no matter the age of either party. I gather it's instead or "sir" and no doubt less formal.

The commute to the office is about 45 mins -- a bit more of a hike than the 20 mins it took when I stayed in a hotel right downtown last time.

No one would ever try bubble tea on looks and description alone. I'm thinking you have to be told it's good by someone you trust. I ponder how gross tapioca pearls look every time I eat them.

Christmas music is still playing all over Singapore. It's January 2nd. How long will this go on?! Enough already!

Pedicures are not cheap here. I guess the nail salons know they'll always be in demand in a place where it's always summer. I was handed a magazine to read while I got my calluses soaked off (magical! But the product would set me back $50 so I'm not sure I'm that desperate to soak them off myself at home). I read a magazine called Her World, which is published here in Singapore. The ads feature primarily white women, though. One for Lancôme described a special formulation specially for Asian skin, alongside a photo of Julia Roberts.

I walked all over the Ion Orchard mall this evening searching for the sushi place I fell in love with last time. I finally found it and naturally it was not as good as I remembered.

My college major, for better or for worse

2011-12-24T11:50:00.001-05:00

If you returned (or went, if you've never been) to college to study anything you want, what would you major in, and why? (This is another Reverb Broads entry.)

I often lament that I didn't go to college for something "practical." I jokingly blame my parents for not making me study something more practical, although of course, unlike the people whose parents really did do that, I'm quite glad that mine let me choose my own destiny.

I remember visiting both the career counselor at school as well as a private one my parents hired, so surely one of them touted the merits of studying something "practical." I keep putting that word in parentheses because in essence an English degree IS practical. How lucky I am to have the benefit of going through life seeing grammatical and spelling errors everywhere I look! And think of all the books I had the benefit of reading in a classroom that other people had to muddle through on their own. I didn't have to take any complicated math classes. So what if I have no idea what a quadratic equation is. Would that really help me in my life today?

In the event that someone had sat me down and said, "look, here, missy: You are welcome to major in English (with a side of French) if you choose. But do keep in mind that your major will shape where you wind up after college," I'm not sure I would have reacted favorably. I probably would have been even MORE likely to study English and French.

And, frankly, it's pretty neat that I got to get a bachelor's degree in reading, writing, and talking about what I read. It almost seems too good to be true, at least for someone who enjoys those things (which I do). And, since I did an interdepartmental major of French and English, I was able to spend my junior year in Montpellier, France, which was one of the most amazing years of my life. So there you have it. I would not change anything about my major. I'm glad we cleared that up!

Self-Portrait

2011-12-20T14:10:00.000-05:00

I have used this photo on many websites as my avatar. I feel as if I should retire it since it is 10 or 11 years old at this point. But I just love the way I look in it. My face is thinner. My eyes are just the right amount of squinty. My hair is curling in just the right way. My hair is also the perfect length on me. My cheeks are a little rosy as they tend to be, but not full on red as they get sometimes.

I don't remember the exact occasion, but I do recall that I was out with some people who I have lost touch with who used to be my very best friends. We had a huge falling out that left a sour taste in my mouth for many years. But frankly, at the time, they were a bright spot in my life and we had tons of fun together. I was single and this group of friends (usually the 4 of us) would go out a lot and stay out too late and we were so incredibly silly together. It's hard to even explain it because I could tell you that we had all these hilarious inside jokes and you'd say, sure, all groups of friends have those. I'd tell you that we would create all these crazy characters and you'd just look at me weird and I'd say "never mind" because I could not explain it. And I don't even remember exactly. I just remember the feeling. It was fun. It was so fun. And this picture exemplifies that. The irony is that my friendship with them ended in a firey furnace, but I guess it had to burn out somehow.

(This is a Reverb post. Topic: Self-Portrait: Post a picture of you that you like, write about yourself, post a video - what do you want your self-portrait to say about you?)

Mumsy and me

2011-12-20T00:58:00.001-05:00

How am I like my mom?

My mom and I look so much alike that if you were to meet a group of 72-year-old women you could easily identify which one spawned me. According to a coworker who met her last week, she even makes the same spastic gestures that I do and will launch into an amusing story without prompt. I'm not sure my mom would appreciate that comparison but I don't think he's wrong either.

Virginia Beach

I was recently working on a list of the ways in which she and I differ because when asked that question I couldn't think of anything. Of course we are different in many ways but I don't tend to concentrate on them. I have always considered myself just like her, for better or for worse. We are both sensitive, sometimes to a fault. But we are also attuned to the feelings of others because of this.

At first we both seem to be rather buttoned up and prim. Because the reality is not apparent at first blush, when people discover that we have a silly side they are often quite surprised.

We both love Prosecco, Bloody Marys and margaritas made from scratch. We love to travel with our husbands but we are also perfectly happy to spend time alone when they are away without us. We each have the tendency to stay up late after everyone else has gone to bed. In fact, she's probably also up right now. But we should both be getting to bed if that is the case!

Anyway, I could not locate a photo of us together as adults. Here are a bunch more of her.

(This is a Reverb post. Topic: How am I like my mom)

Three things I'm good at

2011-12-14T12:11:00.000-05:00

At first I whined about this Reverb prompt because I am uncomfortable with talking myself up. That's unfortunate because sometimes it really is necessary, like in mid-year reviews. But I managed to come up with these three.

1. I'm a great traveler. I can pack just the right amount of clothes, mixing and matching top layers and rarely taking more than two pairs of shoes. I keep a list of essentials to check off when packing. I have all sorts of tricks such as putting my purse inside my backpack when boarding the plane so that it looks like I only have two carry-ons (backpack and rolling bag). I take a water bottle and I have a perfect one now with a Brita-like filter built in. I also am not beaten easily by jet lag. If flying to Europe, I try to take an overnight flight and sleep if I can on the plane. The first day sucks but if I make it to 8pm I'm golden for the rest of the trip. I remain calm when flights are delayed or the customs line is long. There is nothing I can do about those things, so why get my panties into a bunch over it? I learned a lot of my travel tricks from my dad, who was a pilot for TWA.

2. I am good at making people feel welcome. This is not the same thing as being good at small talk, although I'm passable at that when needed. I look at talking to people I barely or don't know as an opportunity to learn some interesting stories so I ask questions to get them started talking. It almost always works out. They feel welcome and I don't have to do as much of the talking. On rare occasions I will encounter someone who is also a question-asker and then the two of us will have a bit of a power struggle because of course you can't be rude and not answer questions politely asked of you. And you can't turn every question into a reverse question.

Great. Now you know all my secret tricks! (I will admit here that I have not always been good at this business of making conversation, but I have gotten much better at it in recent years and still could be much better but I do consider myself fairly proficient at it. I have improved my skills in this area by listening to some very good advice on the matter by my dad and my friend Catie, who coincidentally, is responsible for today's prompt.)

3. I am a good listener. This goes along with point number 2. You can't ask people probing questions if you aren't going to listen to the answers. And since I'm interested in the answers, it's not hard. Sometimes when having a conversation I am concentrating so much on what the other person is saying that I forget to have a follow-up comment after they stop speaking.

I will never

2011-12-06T11:45:00.001-05:00

See, I have this silly habit of declaring I won't do something and then I eventually do it. My friends just roll their eyes now when I say there is no way in hell I'll do something. This mainly applies to fashion.

Some things I said I'd never ever wear include: knee-high boots, capris, 3/4 length sleeves, leggings, jeggings (except I refuse to call them jeggings and I swear they are just really tight pants, mostly because the word jeggings is completely inane). I also said I'd never read the Harry Potter books or get a Mac.

So, I'm a little hesitant to say there are things I'd never do because saying I won't do something seems to a signal that I will be doing it within a couple years at the most. (It goes without saying that this list will not include things like murder.)

1. I will never get a tattoo. I'm of the camp that I could never pick one and feel confident that I'll like it for the rest of my life. I'm very interested in seeing what others choose for theirs, though. I maybe read too much into them and assume the tattoos are a little window into what makes a person tick.

2. I will never play the lottery. This doesn't really require an explanation, does it?

3. I will never go scuba diving. I am not a big fan of swimming in the first place. I mean, it's fine, I just don't adore it or crave it. I mainly get in the water because I'm hot. I don't really like putting my head under water and I don't feel completely comfortable being in the ocean, especially when it's murky.

4. I will never start drinking coffee again. I stopped drinking it when I was 23, switched to tea, and have never looked back. I like the flavor but not how it makes my tummy feel.

5. I will never have a job that requires doing a lot with numbers. I'm so terrible at math that it would be a truly horrible idea to even apply for such a job.

6. I will never be a fan of winter. There is nothing good about winter. I don't like winter sports, being cold all the time, having to wear closed-toe shoes, darkness descending practically right after lunch. Jeff will defend winter by saying that Christmas is in the wintertime, and that is certainly true, but what is also true is that no matter where you live, Christmas is still on December 25. Although I would have a hard time adjusting to living anywhere besides NYC, or at least the northeast, I would really, really like to live somewhere that is warm all year round. Or at least a place where it rarely drops below 60 degrees. There are some great cities on the west coast where it doesn't get that cold, but the other thing is that like I said, I feel tied to the east coast and also I love the sun. I'm no sun worshiper, mind you. I just love it when it's sunny and warm.

7. I will never wear running shoes for anything besides exercise. (I admit that I had to wear them recently for a whole day that included a hike/walk in the woods and I felt weird about it the whole time. I should have just sucked it up and worn my hiking boots, even though they would have been annoying to wear on a 2-hour bus ride before and after this hike/walk.)

8. I will never say never on this one, but I really can't imagine myself living anywhere besides a large-ish, walkable city.

9. I will never willingly become a vegetarian. Sorry, delicious animals.

10. I will never wear leggings as pants. No really. I'm serious about this. And yes, I'm totally judging others who do this.

I don't have any food items on my list because I'm open to trying any food item once. Maybe this comes from my childhood when my parents forced me to try at least a bite of everything I was served at mealtime. If it was something I wasn't wild about but had eaten before, I had to eat three bites. I don't think that ever caused me to admit that I had begun liking something nasty (like sweet potatoes), but it did make me realize that periodically a person should taste again something you don't believe you like. The first time this happened to me, I was 20 years old and I found out that cherries are an absolutely amazing fruit and I had spent my entire life up until that point believing that I hated them, probably because I had only ever tried those nasty pickled ones. I am now in the process of learning which mushrooms I actually like. I always thought I hated them, but now I'm learning that some of them are quite delicious.

(This is a Reverb post. Topic: 10 things you'll never do)

The Terrible Twenties

2011-12-02T11:26:00.001-05:00

Coming up on ten years ago marks the end of the decade I call my Terrible Twenties. I was a brat. The only person who mattered was me. Whatever was fun was what was most important.

My Terrible Twenties began in my late teens and ended on tax day, 2002, five months after I had met Jeff.

When thinking about my former self I really do see her as another person. When I made the decision to not be a brat anymore it was a finality. I never went back on my decision to snap out of my bratty phase. You'd think that it would have been easy to slip right back in but it was actually really easy to leave it all behind.

I have wondered if I could have lived my Terrible Twenties differently and if I had if I would be a different person now. I don't think that I would have stayed in and read more instead of going out if someone had told me that going out almost every night of the week until the wee hours wasn't worth it. At the time it was incredibly important to me. Looking back it seems SO obvious that it wasn't worth it, but younger me would never have bought that truth. And anyway, I think those years did help shape the current me.

Reflecting on those years in my early 20s leads me to wonder if any authority figure could have talked me out of being such a brat. I wish I could say it would have been possible but I'm not sure about that. I dare say that by the time I left for college it was already set in stone that it would take many years for me to learn to appreciate the freedom of being an adult. If I were a parent would I be able to steer my kid away from the Terrible Twenties? I don't know. But I resolve to try.

(This entry was loosely based on a prompt by the Reverb Broads group. The photo is of me at age 21.)

The importance of wireless headphones and couches

2011-11-14T21:47:00.001-05:00

I've been listening to a lot of ambient music lately. I went through a period in high school when I was absolutely obsessed with Vangelis. I had all his albums. In retrospect, I think that was a rather strange obsession for a high schooler. And by obsession, I don't mean that I researched him or knew the first thing about him. I just listened to the albums a lot. Of course my obsession began with Chariots of Fire. Okay, I checked on Wikipedia. I by no means had all his albums. I certainly didn't have one called Sex Power. Although maybe it's too bad that I didn't! We can only wonder how different my life might have been if I had such an album at age 16.

Anyway, the ambient station on Pandora is pretty good. It relaxes me. Although in typical Pandora fashion sometimes it goes off on a tangent and plays a song that is just the sound of a dripping faucet.

I listen to music pretty much constantly when I'm home alone. I rarely turn on the TV when Jeff is away and I especially don't now that there is so much available via streaming. I feel guilty about watching TV, even if it's really good TV. Jeff will still channel surf on the weekends sometimes, but I try to quash this behavior. It's a time suck! Why watch half of a movie? It doesn't bother him, apparently. And this is why we have wireless headphones. If you live in an apartment I strongly urge you to invest in a pair of them.

Sometimes I will choose not to watch a new show because of the guilt and also because I feel like I spend too much time watching TV. Invariably I choose not to watch what winds up being everyone's favorite show. I noticed that season 1 of Breaking Bad is on Netflix on demand, but I also really want to start The Invention of Hugo Cabret.

Also, watching a show on the computer feels like it's the worst of both worlds. I'm watching TV AND I'm on the internet. So not just one thing to feel guilty about, but two! I have a lot of guilt about things that aren't worth feeling guilty about, in case you hadn't guessed.

Alright, I've decided to watch the first episode. But I am definitely going to feel very guilty about it.

No, I didn't take it home.

Oh, by the way, I'm sitting on my new couch. I had a futon when Jeff and I moved in together. It was a bit too large for our current living room and plus, those things are not comfortable to sit on at all. So we got rid of if when I inherited two wing chairs. They are very nice wing chairs, but I did not realize how important it is to have a couch. The wing chairs are now safely stored in my in-laws' basement and we have a lovely new couch. I can put my head in Jeff's lap while we watch TV! Cuddling is necessary and good.

For now we have a no eating on the new couch rule. Or at least a no eating anything messy on the new couch rule. Or what is really a no eating anything messy when the other person is around to see you doing it rule.

The new norm

2011-11-08T00:32:00.000-05:00

Isn't it funny how after a while a person adjusts to just about anything?

Just four days ago, I was in tears because it seemed as if the mice had already won. I sat at the kitchen table in the middle of the day while a mouse the size of a toddler crouched behind our stove and rattled the back cover. He did that all day long while a smaller mouse, one the size you are used to seeing, hopped up on the counter beside the stove, and walked around on his hind legs, paws on hips, sticking his tongue out at me. It happened exactly like that.

That was Thursday. By last night, when mice 7 and 8 had seen no reason not to reach for a stale piece of chocolate that for some odd reason smelled of death, I was almost entirely immune to the death chamber that has become the space between our stove and fridge.

Booie ferociously grabs at the mice when we pull them out. I have no idea why she wants to chomp down on a dead mouse, but I guess that's her way of showing how she would handle one. Yeah, okay, Booie, but still, it's snap trap: 8. Booie: 0. Whoever said that cats are good for a) keeping mice from setting up shop in your home because of their feline smell alone and b) that all cats are good at catching mice was a) a liar and b) probably had never owned a cat. Some cats are simply better suited to lying in sunny windows.

So, killing cute little animals has become the norm around here. I'm not saying I like it by any means, but it did become easier and quite fast, too. Fortunately or unfortunately, I had to adjust to that new norm whether I wanted to or not. Sometimes I think it would be easier if more things in life were foisted upon us like that, whether we think we want them or not. Or maybe I just need to get better at doing more self-imposed foisting.

Realization about chivalry vs. manners

2011-11-02T14:45:00.000-04:00

I've battled for some time this notion of how manners are supposed to work. This is especially in relation to how men treat women. For example: men should always usher women through doorways first. If a group of people arrives at a bar together and there are only a couple stools, the men should allow the women to decide if they want to sit first. A man should ensure that the woman he's with gets on or off the subway before he does. Etc.

Now, I have lived in New York or New Jersey since I left home to attend college, but I grew up in the semi-south of northern Virginia. My father is from the actual South and is this sort of gentleman described above. (It is no great stretch to put two and two together and see that I got this view of reality from observing my dad.)

Some of this sort of chivalry goes on in the North, but there is a lot of each wo/man for him/herself going on as well. And that always bugged me. On the one hand, I don't want to be bugged by it because I know deep down that there is NO reason for women to be treated differently than men. Why should a woman get on the subway first, right? A man could be just as tired at the end of the day as a woman and we women are perfectly entitled to dress however we want, so we can't say that we deserve the seats because we have to wear high heels. Many of us wear comfy shoes for commuting or comfy shoes all the time. I spend 95% of my work day with my ass parked in a chair. I really don't NEED to sit down for my 22 minute commute.

Most mornings I actually prefer to stand and I have this whole system where I hang back when people are entering the train so that I'm the last one on and can lean against the door. Since most people are rushing to get a seat that probably doesn't exist, it's very easy to hang back. I have been practicing this method for a few months now and not a single man has stood aside and ushered me onto the train first. If he did, I don't know what I'd do! He'd be foiling my plan!

After reading this article, I had a realization. What struck me especially was this part:

To be sure, strict rules regarding courtesy and deference to others have historically been used as a way to enforce a social order in which women and blacks were considered less than full citizens.

In the Jim Crow era, blacks and whites lived with a code of hyper-politeness as a way to smooth the edges of a harsh racial system and, of course, keep it in place, scholars of Southern culture say.

As those issues faded, proper manners remained an important cultural marker that Southerners have worked to maintain.
Ah ha! That's what it is! Chivalry of the sort outlined above (the kind where men let women enter the elevator first) really does need to die, assuming we no longer require this code of hyper-politeness to smooth the edges of a system in which women are inferior.

The other kind of chivalry, however, needs to be worked on by everyone, not just those of us in the North. There is no reason not to hold the door for the person walking right behind you. And there is no reason for that person to not say, "thank you!" It doesn't matter if it's a woman holding the door for a man or vice versa. It's just a nice thing to do for a fellow human being.

Phew! I'm so glad that I finally figured out why I had been battling that issue for so long.

(Photo is in honor of Halloween, even if it is a few days late.)

The life list, part 2

2011-10-20T13:09:00.000-04:00

Thirteen months ago, I wrote a life list, which I came across today. A lot of what's on there remains the same, but some of it changed. Earlier today, I wrote in my paper journal that I need a dog, so that definitely remains on the list. I quit toastmasters, so that's out of the picture. I don't care so much about picking up French again, at least not at the moment. I no longer care if our future home has a bar and I also care a lot less about learning how to brew with Jeff. That'll be his thing, whenever he gets around to it.

1. Have a reasonably clean apartment that feels like home, not a messy pit.
2. Own a dog.
3. Learn to drive stick shift. [Sure, I guess. I still want to do this, but it's not that important to me anymore. Maybe I take it off the list.]
4. Live abroad.... hmm... is this still something I want? I'm not sure. Let's change this to: continue to travel to new places and return to the especially loved ones.
5. Be a mother.
6. Get better at cooking through practice.
7. Write a book.
8. Publish a book.
9. Be able to say, "I'm a runner" and not inwardly say, "liar" because I don't stick with it.
10. Have toned biceps.
11. Learn how to use a sewing a machine.
12. Invest properly.
13. Get to the point where we are living in a home that seems big enough, presumably with more than one bathroom.
14. Find a way to use photography in new ways.
15. Let go of the past.
16. Drive across the US.
17. Come into my own.

I am going to need to revisit this list more often than once a year. Maybe I'll tack it up on my bulletin board and refer to it like some people refer to their new year's resolutions, a practice I don't much like, by the way. If you want to make a change, make a change! Don't wait for January 1 to do it. Do it now.

Thoughts on 36

2011-10-19T14:55:00.001-04:00

I've never felt remorse about my birthday. I'm always excited to a) get taken out to dinner but also b) to see what a new year will bring. This is a little bit amusing since many years lately have been pretty much the same, one after another, with some exotic trips sprinkled in here and there.

My 30th birthday

Next week I'm turning 36. This time I do feel something different. It's not like 30, when I was excited to be leaving all the mistakes of my 20s behind. And it's not like 21 when I could finally drink legally. Those are years you're supposed to get excited about. Not 36. No one says, "how does it feel to be 36??"

I will be half my mother's age and therefore the same age she was when she had me.

I'm in a women's group that meets every other Wednesday and I wasn't going to go on my birthday. Because it's my birthday! Even though just saying that out loud seemed silly when I said it. So I will be fêted the day before, which is perfect because my mom will be taking me out for happy hour that evening already. And then I will meet Jeff for dinner.

In my 20s I loved celebrating with friends in bars. For my 30th Jeff organized an outing to a burlesque club and that was the perfect way to seal off my 20s -- with a bang. It feels false to me now, to do gatherings with friends on my birthday. NOT to say that I believe that is true for others. Just for me.

I've missed this.

2011-10-16T16:15:00.004-04:00

I'm thinking about blogging again. I haven't done that in a while. Or whatever it's called. Journaling? Keeping a diary? I never was a fan of calling it a diary. As much as diaryland meant to me at one time, I was never thrilled with the name. Also, I was constantly typing dairyland instead, which spellcheck wants to change to fairyland.

Before the internet, or I should say: last century, before blogging was all the rage or even a medium I had heard of, I diligently kept a paper journal. I wish I could remember what lead me to first keep a diary back in the 4th grade. Although that was a very hard year for me, I was not self aware enough to be able to record my thoughts on what was hard for me at the time. I merely kept a record of what I ate, how I managed to stay up a half hour past bedtime, what games I played with what friends, etc.

I think I started recording thoughts as well as actions a couple years later. There was nothing that deep, though, until high school. And then I went to town in journals. Poems and stories in which terrible or wonderful things would happen to a protagonist not so loosely based on me.

In my late teens and early 20s my journals were everything to me, as was writing letters to my friends (and receiving ones back). I would write to work through my emotions, okay let's face it: mainly about men. But still, this was immensely helpful and for some crazy reason I all but stopped.

Oh wait, not some crazy reason: the Internet. I was 25 for the millennial celebration and a month before that I started a blog. Most people I knew in real life had never heard of blogs. I myself can't remember where I first encountered one, but I can say with certainty that it stirred something in me and I knew I needed one right away.

Blogging was like writing in a paper journal, except with feedback! And praise! And encouragement! I was in a shitty relationship at the time and I needed all of that so very much. But there was also judgement and competition and secrets and inside jokes and cool kids and for the love of god, there were actually awards. I am writing this in the past tense as if this is all in the past. It is for me, but as far as I know it still goes on out there.

And I want nothing to do with any of that. Those things I listed have no place being linked with journaling. I wish blogging was not considered synonymous with journaling. To me journaling is a solitary pursuit and blogging is the public version of that. Not the same at all. I also believe that anyone who claims they blog as openly as they would journal in a private paper book is lying. I have not heard anyone say that lately. I'm just saying.

So anyway. I think I'm going to start using this space again for thoughts, not just as a travelogue. I have come full circle about permanence. I don't really care about keeping these entries as a record of my thoughts at a point in time. I have my paper journals for that. This is a public place and I will not be talking about anything that would make my grandma uncomfortable (in theory. She's not online.), which leaves a lot of room since for a 101-year-old, she's fairly open-minded.

That was an awfully long prologue. Here is the entry itself:

I'm practicing saying no more, or rather not being afraid to say it when it needs to be said. So far, this is going better than I expected. Related: I'm working on telling the truth about why I'm saying no (as long as it's appropriate). I vow to not be vague in this here blog, so here's an example: I have had a very emotionally intense weekend... oh crap, vagueness is creeping in. Okay: I went on a retreat this weekend that was very emotionally taxing (in a good way). More about the retreat in the future. I'm not ready to talk about it yet. On Friday I planned a happy hour this evening with 2 coworkers who live near me. I realized earlier this afternoon that what my soul really needs this evening is to go home and make apple squash soup and be alone (Jeff is away). I was avoiding letting the coworker know that I am bailing because I don't want her to judge me, be mad at me, think I'm a chronic bailer, etc. And guess what: she was totally understanding when I told her the truth. And we made plans to do another happy hour in 2 weeks. How easy was that! Whew. Anyway, I typed this on my phone on a bouncy bus so I'm feeling cross-eyed and woozy now. Over and out.

The marvels of New Mexico

2011-07-02T21:07:00.001-04:00

Santa Fe day one

Our day started at 3am. Those 5am flights sure are a bitch. But, on the flip side, hardly anyone was headed to Houston at that hour and we both got upgraded. The food still sucks in first class (I have never tasted a biscuit that tasted less like a biscuit) but at least it's easier to sleep. We arrived in Albuquerque before 11am.

We got on the road and headed north of Santa Fe for what should have been a 2-hour trip but wound up being three because we kept stopping to take photos. Also, driving a Kia on a dirt mountain road is rather scary. Did you know there are mountains in New Mexico? Well there are.

Jeff got us an invite to check out the only North American monastery that brews beer, hence the drive along the mountain pass. The monks were incredibly welcoming. Monks' Ale is now available in Philly so look for it (not to be confused with Monk's Sour). They didn't offer us any, unfortunately, so I can't comment on the taste yet. They have a Belgian pale and a Wit and they were working on a Belgian triple today.

Just as we were leaving we were asked to stick around a few more minutes to attend the 3:30 service. A large window in the chapel offers a breathtaking view of a colorful rock face. The monks chanted a couple Gregorian chant style hymns. Half the monks sat across from the others and they alternated lines. I'm so glad we stuck around for that even though we were faint with hunger.

A hamburger with avocado, lettuce, tomato and onion sounds like it might be gross but I assure you it is delicious, especially when eaten in a roadside fast food joint called Dandy's that looks like it was built in the 50s and has not been renovated since the 80s.

The marvels of New Mexico

2011-07-02T21:07:00.000-04:00

Edinburgh: the city that proved I'm woefully out of shape

2011-04-09T16:30:00.000-04:00

It seems that breakfast is not a major meal here. We arrived at our hotel at 8am and upon asking we were directed to Starbucks. When I turned my nose up at that we were told to look for a cafe up the road. That place doesn't open til 10, but it does look cute. We settled for a place that offers British and Scottish breakfast. I'm not sure I'm ready to try haggis yet, but Jeff is, apparently.

5 minutes later... Haggis is actually quite good!

It will never cease to amaze me that non-Americans will gladly stand at a bar when there are seats available. I guess I'm just lazy by nature but also I don't like drinking while standing.

The water straight out of the taps tastes good.

Our hotel is an apartment hotel. Our room, which is reasonably priced, I might add, includes two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a sitting area and a full kitchen. Having the extra room is unnecessary except for the fact that there are no drawers for our clothes so I have my clothes laid out on the bed in there. And having two bathrooms is certainly a luxury.

Edinburgh is SO hilly. My calves are killing me. Even walking downhill at this point is painful. And it's not just gently sloping hills. No, it's 100 steps cut into a hillside. Makes for a very striking looking city, but those of us who don't do the elliptical every day are not amused.

Edinburgh is apparently THE place to go for your hen or stag (bachelorette/bachelor) party. One set of chicks was wearing tiny pink tutus over tight black clothes and wings on their backs. Another set went the devil route, horns and all. A third set just had on matching sweatshirts. Amateurs! The men are not wearing matching outfits but I have to imagine that some of those groups of loud men were up to something similar, especially the group of dudes including one dressed in drag, including fake pubes hanging out.

One day in San Francisco

2011-04-07T00:00:00.001-04:00

I forgot to post this when I was there the week before last.

I'm getting next to no cell signal in the Haight. Is that because the hippies won't allow a cell tower nearby?

So many great shops in the Haight! Why do I not remember this from previous trips? Are the boutiques a relatively new thing?

I had such a good time hanging out at the bar of Churchkey last night! Sometimes being left alone while Jeff attends an evening event isn't so bad after all.

Lots of rain does not lend itself to tourist photography. I have taken two pictures since my arrival on Tuesday. Both with my cell phone.

One boutique in the Haight (called Ambiance) where I spent a couple of hours had the nicest sales staff. My favorite part was when one would call to another to bring a different size to a customer. She'd call out: "can I have a lady, please!" They also mix in some pieces they think you might like. I didn't like any of their choices except one (a $75 black top which I'm having them hold for me for a little while) because I have other shops to check out first. I do appreciate the touch of personal shopping. Why don't we have places like that in NYC? Or if we do, where are they??

When her friend got up to use the restroom, the woman sitting next to me at lunch today turned and said, "Hi! How are you?" She was curious to know what I had ordered.

It must be a thing in California to have Dutch doors. I saw multiple businesses in the Haight that had just the bottom half closed.

I decided against buying the top because I found more great things to buy. I also happened upon a store called Loved to Death, which sells a variety of wonderfully displayed Victorian memento mori and the like. In the back room was a show of dioramas with taxidermied animals wearing clothes and posed in little Victorian scenes. Unfortunately, I think this might be a temporary exhibit.

I miss Asheville BBQ and beer

2011-03-05T15:22:00.003-05:00

Whoops. I forgot to post this before. I wrote it on my phone and then forgot about it until just now.

There is a difference between eastern and western Carolina BBQ, I now know. I thought all Carolina BBQ was the kind with a vinegar-based sauce. That's east. Western is the same but with a little tomato sauce added. It is now my favorite. Also, smoked turkey is completely under-rated.

There are tons of galleries here. I bought a print by a local artist sold in a converted Woolworth's that is now an artists' collective plus a soda fountain.

I don't think I've seen any fast food restaurants here. And the only chain store I recall seeing is Urban Outfitters. Not being one to seek out Starbuck's or any other national chain on vacation, it didn't hit me right away. But now I'm thinking this can't be accidental. And I think it definitely contributes to making this such a charming town.

I forgot to mention that when we saw the bluegrass band the other night, there was a bonfire out back behind the brewery as well.

My favorite local beers: Duck Rabbit Milk Stout (already knew and loved that one), Duck Rabbit Amber (I'm convinced that brewery can do no wrong), Pisgah Coffee Stout, Wedge Russian Imperial Stout (yes, raspberry can successfully be added to a dark beer), Wedge Community Porter, French Bread Wee Heavy-est.

What came first: hippies or beer?

2011-02-20T12:39:00.001-05:00

I was determined that we'd hear some bluegrass this weekend, ideally in a bar that serves good local beer. I had picked out an option and then in the meantime we took a drive out to a brewpub just outside Asheville called Pisgah. They make beers the way we like them: strong and dark. We didn't want to leave those beers so we opted to stay and hear the band that was playing there. We really liked the opener: Jackass Flats (from Richmond). The main act, Cornmeal, is apparently a popular local band and was more of a bluegrass slash jam band so slightly less our preference. But still really great, especially the dynamo female violinist.

It's a high of maybe 50 degrees but you'd think it was 80 the way people are dressed here. The worst part is that the restaurants are buying into this "heatwave" mentality and are seating people on their porches. We're waiting for a table right now and I'm really hoping for an inside one or else I may eat brunch with my gloves on.

What is it about hippies and beer? It seems like wherever you find a good craft beer scene there is also an abundance of patchouli, dreads and Birkenstocks.

We were seated inside for brunch where shared shrimp and grits and a fries green tomato BLT, both of which bordered on amazing.

Mostly tasteless

2011-01-28T14:16:00.003-05:00

My ears are pretty clogged. Going up and down the elevator is rather uncomfortable. I am having trouble (more so than normal) hearing.

The backstory here is that I had a cold that had my feeling pretty crappy from Monday through Wednesday. Yesterday I felt almost normal. Today I am 99% not a mouth-breather anymore.

My taste buds are operating at about 10%, I think, although it's kind of hard to tell since my brain seems to do a pretty good job of filling in the blanks.

I drank some red wine last night and I'm fairly certain that I detected enough of the flavor to appreciate it. Why else would I have drunk two glasses??

I ate a piece of sharp cheddar cheese and didn't taste it, but I like chewing cheese, so I had a second piece.

I made a sauce from scratch to put on chicken tacos. The spice was readily apparent in the back of my mouth, but other than that, nothing. Jeff, ever afraid to criticize my cooking (probably wise), only told me that it was "good."

Here's another weird fact: I didn't mind eating my taco cold as I would have if I could have tasted it.

I am quite fond of the chopped salads at Fresh & Co, so that's what I got for lunch today. What makes them especially delicious is the sesame ginger dressing. But let me tell you: eating salad that has no flavor is not at all pleasant. It is like eating wet lettuce. As it turns out, it's ALL about the dressing. Lettuce does not have good mouthfeel.

When I stick my nose down in the plastic bowl and take a deep whiff, I feel a slight burning up inside my sinuses, which masks the very very faint odor of ginger.

I picked out a cherry tomato. It does have a good mouthfeel. And I can detect the acidity in the back of my mouth.

Give me other things to try! Although not too many things. This might be a good diet. Although I am going to a beer, bourbon and BBQ tasting tomorrow, so let's hope it goes away before then. Otherwise, Jeff might be looking for someone to go with him tomorrow...

Charleston, SC

2011-01-19T23:54:00.001-05:00

Preppiness is alive and well down south. I did not see any outrageously dressed people.

The craft beer scene here is burgeoning and will definitely be worth checking on again in a few years. My favorite was the Duck Rabbit milk stout from NC. Terrapin makes a good porter. We finally found Wake & Bake at a beer store in Charleston. We didn't notice it on the shelf at first because, we were told, the name had to be changed to W&B for legal reasons.

Yelp is not at all big in the south. Or at least not in Savannah or Charleston.

Yes we smelled fried food as soon as we got off the plane and yes fried food is quite prevalent down here. However: they do it RIGHT. It's not heavy or greasy. Okay well maybe a little heavy. They tend to call it "lightly fried." Come on. Is that an oxymoron?

Fried foods we've eaten on this trip: oysters, shrimp, alligator, tomatoes, catfish, hush puppies, okra. Fried alligator tastes a lot like calimari but a little more like chicken. My favorite meal was smoked Virginia pork chop. So tender!

We got upgraded to a penthouse room (well, the penthouse is on the 4th floor). Our room had a fireplace! Traveling during the off season definitely has its perks.

More on Savannah

2011-01-16T14:50:00.001-05:00

I don't think I sufficiently explained the way that people are not bundled up here. Is it possible that many people here don't even own any long-sleeved clothing??

What is it about southern men that makes them look so southern? The women look the same as northern women though. Yes it's a generalization, but it's true.

I'm not kidding! We're currently sitting indoors at a cafe. I'm wearing a long sleeved shirt over a t-shirt and I have my scarf on because I'm cold. A woman wearing a short sleeved sweater just sat down at a table outside! In the shade! She's not smoking or anything! Do these people have Vermont blood??

Places I can recommend:

Moon River brewing: get the pulled pork sandwich and a porter.

Rail Pub: divey, peanuts to be shelled onto the floor, some craft beers (ask about bottles).

Planters Inn: 4 poster bed! Huge room. Centrally located. Wine & cheese happy hour!

The Distillery: great diverse craft beer selection from all over US plus Belgium.

ShopSCAD: art for sale made by locals

Gryphon: classy little tea room across from ShopSCAD

Harris Bread Co.: 4.5 stars on Yelp but 3 locals waiting to get into a different breakfast spot a block away had no idea about it. (it's in the back) No line at all and excellent bread.

Colonial Park graveyard: great history lesson (tons of signs about the famous residents) and also beautiful and central

Sweet Melissa's: the only place to get a snack at 11pm. Hot dog stand outside (Jeff loved), pizza inside (I loved). A mixed crowd of folks out on the town but not at all rowdy.

Savannah, Georgia

2011-01-15T23:56:00.000-05:00

It's in the high 30s here and Jeff and I are by far more warmly dressed than 99% of the people out tonight. Is this because they don't own coats? (definitely possible) Or because they're in denial?

The whole concept of being able to walk around with an open container is so very strange. The bars should give straws with the plastic cups, though. It's hard to walk and drink.

There is some good beer to be had here, including Bell's, Sweetwater and New Belgium.

We gave up going out to a nice dinner and instead went on a haunted pub crawl. The best part was going upstairs above Moon River Brewing, which is a falling down old hotel and has gorgeous old details. I guess they only fixed up the ground floor and called it good.

Ooh la la

2010-11-22T22:44:00.006-05:00

A panhandler wearing a beret and playing the accordion is much more charming than a rather well dressed dude shuffling through the subway asking for change.

On our way to the Pompidou we noticed an outdoor market down a side street. We wound up buying olives flavored with basil and others flavored with herbes de Provence. It went on for several blocks and was inter-mixed with small restaurants full of late lunchers (it was Sunday). More than one place had a man stationed outside shucking oysters. We had planned to get a cheap(er) meal but we figured oysters are clearly what is best on this strip. The place we chose had 5 kinds, designated by number only. The waitress told us the sizes as well. I was recommended a white wine from the Loire called Cheverny. Excellent with the oysters.

I'm sure this is a typical American complaint but even though I LOVE not feeling pressured to give up my table after finishing a meal or even a drink, sometimes getting my check when I do want it can be a pain.

French people seem perfectly content to stand at a bar drinking coffee or a beer, even if there are seats available at tables. Often there are no seats in front of the bar in a cafe or a small restaurant.

Charcuterie plates seem to always come with pâté. I am picky about pâté and don't like it too strong. And Jeff is just scared of it. At lunch in a brasserie we were chastised for not eating it. I feel bad now. I guess we can't order any more charcuterie platters. I told the guy it was too strong for me and he just tsked.

On the metro, rows of seats face each other. Why would they not be row upon row? Odd. Uncomfortable.

The metro train doors open before it had come to a complete stop.

There is not much variety among restaurants. There will be a selection of salads with names like Caesar that may only vaguely resemble an American Caesar salad. There will be an onion soup and at least one other soup option. There will be perhaps a hamburger, perhaps a steak tartar, perhaps a savory tart.

Andouille sausage in France is (we found out after making the mistake of ordering it and taking one bite each) made of tripe and smells like a sewer. Relatedly, rognon de veau is not a lovely veal chop, but rather veal kidney.

There is good craft beer to be found in Paris but not easily. A couple bars serve some more unusual French beers. One small store specializes in selling French beer as well as some Belgians, but the French ones are front and center while the Belgians are near the back. Down the street from that store (which is called Cave à Bulles) is a quaint little restaurant with mediocre food and 6 French beers on tap that an American is not likely to recognize.

Based on the Cave à Bulles' proprietor's recommendation we bought 7 bottles of beer to bring home. It remains to be seen whether those will in fact be findable in the US. We thought we had discovered Mikkeler in Copenhagen last year and perhaps it began being available in the US right after that or maybe we had just never noticed it before.

Parisiennes apparently aren't privy to the power of zinc for staging off colds. A pharmacist told us he doesn't carry it and when I asked if the French take zinc at all he said no, not really.

See the rest of the photos.

This is Halifax

2010-10-23T18:44:00.000-04:00

There are two great candy stores here. I am such a sucker for "exotic" candy.

We have tried a number of local brews. None have blown my socks off but these are decent: Garrison Nut Brown, Stout and Amber; Propeller Pale, Porter and Pumpkin and others I'm forgetting right now.

There are a couple of upscale, classy seafood restaurants here. Both The Press Club and Five Fishermen are excellent. Plus 5 Fish has a daily oyster happy hour where oysters are a dollar a piece. We tool advantage both days. What? Oysters are great.

They are not bathrooms or restrooms or ladies rooms. They are wash rooms.

There is a bit of a club atmosphere late at night on weekends but mostly everywhere is fairly casual. That is not to say that people look like they just walked in from working in the fields. People are for the most part nicely dressed. I'm glad that Jeff and I tend to not wear jeans and look especially casual on vacation because we wandered in to The Press Gang last night without a reservation. I like being able to fit in to most situations on trips so a lot of black is key.

There's a sort of doner kebab here called a donair which is pronounced like the Don in Don Draper. I have not had that sort of thing in years so I can't say I'm an expert. But it was really good. We went to King of Donair.

Poutine is fairly prevalent but it's made with mozzarella not cheese curds. This is not bad but I would really prefer the real thing.

In the public garden (which was built in the 1870s) there is no jogging, marrying or pets. No jogging??

The life list, in part

2010-09-13T23:43:00.004-04:00

1. Have a really clean apartment all the time.
2. Own a dog.
3. Learn to drive stick shift.
4. Live abroad (again).
5. Be a mother.
6. Get better at cooking through practice.
7. Write a book.
8. Publish a book.
9. Be someone's role model.
10. Be able to say, "I'm a runner" and not inwardly say, "liar" because I don't stick with it.
11. Have toned biceps.
12. Learn to use a sewing machine.
13. Make a cute skirt on the sewing machine.
14. Invest properly.
15. Study French again.
16. Continue to take at least one fabulous trip per year.
17. Live in a 2-bedroom 2-bathroom house/apartment.
18. Run 10 miles.
19. Have a proper bar in said larger living space.
20. Get involved in homebrewing with Jeff and make some delicious beer.
21. Complete the toastmaster's certification and become a competent public speaker.

I'm a pragmatist. All my items are very much attainable. I think some people put things on their lists that are huge stretches, but that seems to be setting yourself up for failure.

Master of toast

2010-08-14T20:28:00.005-04:00

This is the first speech I gave in Toastmasters. My feedback was that I should never apologize and I should try to do my next speech without the whole thing written out. I'm sure that is a good idea, but I'm so afraid my mind will go blank. Also, it was suggested that I get out from behind the podium and to gesticulate more. I could have sworn we were told we could do our speeches in the front of the room, if we were comfortable doing so, or at the podium if we preferred. I know for a fact that I would have been shaking like a leaf if I were not behind the podium. I have a lot to overcome, that is for sure!

Good afternoon Madame Toastmaster, fellow toastmasters, and guests.

I hesitated to do my first speech on the topic of beer because I plan to do a future speech on that topic. But there's quite a bit I can say about beer, so I don't think it will be a problem.

This story is also not about me alone, but anyone who knows me knows that beer is a big part of my life. There is no way that I could tell you my whole life story in 5 minutes (and a lot of it is boring anyway -- I was a normal kid, I went to college, I had some jobs, I got married, blah blah blah), so I chose this particular aspect of my life to focus on.

This story begins in November 2003. I was visiting Canada for the fourth time and Montreal for the second time with my boyfriend Jeff. Jeff had proposed to me (I said yes) and we were floating around Montreal on our excitement.

To escape the cold, we stopped in a Tin Tin-themed bar, which turned out to be a beer bar. We didn't recognize any of the beers on offer so we went with the one called La Fin du Monde. Who could resist a beer called The End of the World?

La Fin du Monde is named after European explorers' belief that they had reached the end of the world when they discovered a new world, which turned out to be America. That Belgian style golden ale, similar to a Belgian triple, opened up a new world for Jeff and me.

It took us a little while to become fully ensconced in beer culture. But with our eyes open to the craft beer scene, we discovered that almost everywhere in the world has locally made beer. Some are certainly better than others and a lot are not available for export.

Yes, there are beers made in Austria, for example, that you are not likely to find here, but my advice to you would be that if you travel to Austria you might want to stick with the wine. And there are some lovely Austrian wines.

Some people travel to scuba dive or to collect antiques or just to get away from it all and lie on a beach. Jeff and I travel for beer. We started off by combining trips to Pennsylvania, upstate New York, Virginia, or California with side trips to famous beer bars or breweries.

And then in 2005 we took our first trip to Belgium together. At the time, we were heavily into Belgian beers and to us, Belgium was mecca. If you've been to Belgium, you know that it has a lot more to offer than just great beer, so we fell completely in love with not only the beers, but also the people and the food. It was on that trip that we went to THE Belgian brewery to trump all breweries.

Westvleteren is one of seven Trappist monasteries in the world that produces beer and their beer is believed by many to be some of the best in the world. We rented a car expressly to drive out to this monastery because you could only buy their beer on site. It was the dark ale -- the Westvleteren 8 -- that they were selling that day so that is what we got. We bought a whole case because heck, when were we going to be back?

Jeff and I HATE to check luggage, so bringing back 24 bottles of rare beer was an experience I hope to never relive. This was before the 3 ounce liquids rule had come into effect, so we wrapped all the bottles in our dirty laundry and split them up between our bags. I had most of the bottles in my bag since mine was the one with wheels. I got caught at the gate and was told to gate check it. I did not want to give up my bag, so I took it on the plane anyway. The gate agent then came looking for me! On the plane! All the way in the back! The last row! And took my heavy bag of beer away from me. I was certain at this point that my bag -- and all that beer -- was going to wind up in Timbuktu.

It made it just fine. Not a single bottle broke.

Belgian beer was a good entry point for Jeff and me. The Belgians tend to adhere to a couple of standard styles. But after a while, seeking out Belgian beer was not enough for us. For one thing, the more we searched, the more we found that many of those beers we thought we could only find in Belgium are available in Belgian bars and beer stores around the world.

Our pilgrimage to Westvleteren will probably always remain one of our top experiences, especially since now you have to make an appointment weeks in advance -- if you're lucky enough to get one at all. When we went back to Belgium in 2008, we called and called, trying to get one of those elusive appointments in hopes of scoring one of the other two types of beer they make, but the phone would just ring and ring. As it turns out, the Westvleteren beers are sold (not for cheap, mind you) in at least one beer store I know of in Bruges.And on eBay, too, of course.

Now that we have learned a bit more about beer, we don't have to go as far as Belgium to try new beers. What we seek now is on the opposite end of the spectrum. We look for start-up breweries that are crafting something unusual, maybe using a unique combination of spices or aging the beer in certain type of wood barrels.

This is not to say that I would ever diminish the experience of being invited to stay after-hours at a bar in Belgium and getting to share some bottles of Belgian beer that had been aged 20 years. I still seek new and unusual beer-related experiences. I don’t suppose I will ever again discover a whole new world in craft beer, so to speak, like when I first tried a beer that was not a Bud Light or a Heineken.

And, as it turns out, we did not have to travel to the end of the world to find great beer. There are plenty of amazing beers to be found right here at home.

Lunch Explorations

2010-07-23T01:12:00.004-04:00

I have always had trouble bringing my lunch to work. A bento box is adorable and we almost always have enough things on hand to make a bento lunch. But it requires a considerable time investment. And I simply do not have the wherewithal to devote a half hour plus to making bento lunches. And yes if I make one for myself you know Jeff will want one too.

Once I went on Weight Watchers and during that two week period I made turkey sandwiches on whole wheat almost every day. Those are certainly quicker to make than bentos. And they are pretty tasty. But there is a reason I only lasted two weeks. I could not keep up with eating the same thing every day. And even more: I could not stand not going out for lunch. It was simply not the same to take a mid-afternoon walk and try to buy no snacks.

So yes, I failed at Weight Watchers. And I'm 20 lbs heavier than I was when Jeff and I were married. But by golly if there is one thing that makes my work day easier to get through it's lunch.

I really like the salads at Fresh & Co. and the sandwiches at Pret a Manger, but they are chains and I live in New York after all. We New Yorkers scoff at chains, even our own chains.

So what I've decided is to pretend like I'm a temporary resident of the NYC area because you know if I were only living here a month I'd be eschewing all chains like the plague.

When I'm able to escape the office for a full hour I make a beeline for an eatery that is new to me and which gets good reviews on Yelp. I should probably expand my searches to chowhound and the like but for now Yelp is sending me to plenty of interesting spots.

It helps that for some reason (lack of math skills or ability to plan ahead?) I have quite a surplus in my my flexible spending transit account so I do not feel the pinch of hopping on a subway for a quick ride. This is especially useful in the summer since I don't always realize my limitations. On my first foray I decided to walk over a mile and back again on a 90+ degree day. (Not a good idea.)

A friend jokingly (I think!) suggested I make this the Craige Moore Eat and Workout Tour because I said that to do this I would need to work out more. Or, you know, at all. Despite my failure on that first day I have tried to incorporate a walk when I'm able. But I'm still going to have to up the working out. I'm back with Jillian, but still only on level one. And I have yet to get out of bed more than twice a week even for those short workouts.

I am I inherently lazy and I love food (not a great combo). I read online recently (the internet told me so it must be true) that people have better success losing weight if they have fewer food choices. I knew a guy once who was so uninterested in food that he admitted he'd often open a can of beans for dinner and eat it only because he knew he needed to eat something. It's no wonder he's no longer my friend. If I am presented with limited food choices I am likely to cry. So that won't work for me. My only option is a treadmill desk.

But anyway, I've just landed in Portland, Oregon. So more on this later.

Make my city

2010-07-18T21:29:00.005-04:00

Today is the first day of a great new initiative called Make My City, a weeklong event during which residents of Jersey City are encouraged to spend their dollars right here in our town instead of going into Manhattan or to the big box stores. To encourage people to take advantage of JC, many businesses are offering deals and discounts.

We're leaving for Portland, Oregon, later this week, so I wanted to be sure to take advantage of Make My City today, not only because it's a great idea and I do really love my town, but also because it was started by my friend Cara Birnbaum.

Jeff and I got brunch at the Hamilton Ale House and I thought we'd be able to take advantage of their deal (a free app with purchase of 2 entrees), but unfortunately their deal is only good on dinner. Also unfortunate: the server had no idea what we were talking about when we mentioned the event.

We decided to order an app anyway and I'm glad we did because everything we got was delicious, especially the app (pierogies with truffle sour cream and caramelized onions).

Next stop: Smith & Chang to look for a gift for Jeff's mom. They are offering a 10% off deal. Inspiration did not strike in the way of a gift for Jeff's mom, but I still love that store and am glad the event got me to stop in again.

Jeff then took off to do some work on his movie and I continued on to Deen in the Powerhouse District. I got a scarf for 10% off. Yay for the deal, plus getting me to check out a store I've been meaning to seek out for a long time.

Right next door is a cafe I had never even heard of called Warehouse. I got a delicious iced tea for a somewhat steap $3 and listened to the DJ spinning some good tunes. I discovered they screen movies there. Possible local screening option for Jeff's movie...

I walked past the Grace Van Vorst church and noticed a sign for a book sale going on right then. What the hell, I thought. I bet it will suck, but it wouldn't hurt to look. Turns out their parish hall is set up to be easily converted into the sale. They have these large built-in cabinets with doors along the outside of the room. They have a great selection, actually. I got 9 books for $4.50.

As I was walking I saw a sign for a new ice cream and sandwich shop called Tommy Two Scoops, so I went there next. They have gelato -- hooray! The garden out back is probably a little more pleasant on a slightly cooler day, but still a nice respite. And iced tea is only a dollar. A dollar!

I checked out a women's clothing store called Tia (not my style) and then went to get a much-needed pedicure. Not a lot of places are open after 5pm on a Sunday, but Nail Tek is open til 7:30 every day and they were really nice and did a great job.

All in all, I'm really glad I braved the heat to walk around my town, discovering new things. I also saw a bunch more graffiti like two interesting pieces that appeared near my apartment a few weeks ago.

I hope the event does well because like the hostess said to me this morning at Hamilton Ale House, "people seem to be really proud to live in Jersey City." Yes. Yes, we are.

Growing box, growing beer belly

2010-06-14T22:07:00.003-04:00

I'm super late on planting my Grow Box because of all the travels. We're never home!

Jeff is away tonight, which meant I could eat dinner later than we normally would. I left work right at 6, made a quick stop at the Jersey City farmers' market (got a jalapeno & cheese empanada from Made With Love Bakery) and immediately upon arriving home, changed into shorts and pulled out all the Grow Box stuff. And then I realized I need two bags of dirt and I only had one. Dammit.

I had to move the car anyway, so I hightailed it over to Home Depot. Their garden section is finally fully operational, which means I can drive right up to the roof deck and put the dirt directly in my car. I love that.

Upon pulling out of Home Depot, I looked across Grove St. and there was the Buy Rite Jeff and I had heard about in Philly. Yes, a Brooklyn-based importer at a Philly Beer Week event told us about this new(ish) alky store. Well! Let me tell you, the beer selection is PHENOMENAL.

The beer manager is a really nice, young NJ native. He steered me toward an Old Rasputin Bourbon barrel-aged Russian Imperial Stout that he got specially from North Coast and which was not otherwise sold commercially. How could I pass that up? Yes, $21 a bottle and we already have tons of beer, but there was no turning that down.

I can't believe I'm even drinking a beer right now. We have rather a lot of beer on hand right now. But somebody's got to drink it.

After this past weekend, our livers no doubt need a rest. We were in Philly for the end of Philly Beer week. Philly sure does appreciate its beer. Jeff attended a couple of events before I arrived on Saturday (I was off meeting internet friend Jeanne and her adorable family for the first time). At one he ran into a Danish brewer who we'd met in Copenhagen last year.

On Saturday night we went to a guided beer and food pairing dinner at a new restaurant slash beer store called Hawthornes. Apparently this is a thing in Philly. Jeff went to another restaurant slash store on Saturday. It was kind of strange to have people walking through to buy beer during dinner, but otherwise it was a lovely event. We made the store our last stop on our way out of town on Sunday and picked up a mixed six-pack to lug home. You know you're in trouble when you get a mixed six, which is 10% off, and you still spend $40.

After dinner on Saturday, we went to a new bar called the Head House (I think?). As soon as we walked in the door, we realized it was the former Zot. I liked Zot, but this one seems pretty good, too. We were kind of blitzed at that point, and we didn't try the food, so I can't give it a full review.

On our walk from Hawthornes to the Head House, we passed by this amazing mural wall. We could not tell what it was in the dark, but luckily, thanks to Yelp, on Sunday the Philadelphia Magic Gardens came up on the list of nearby attractions. So glad we took the time to check out Zagar's work.

On Sunday we also: had an extreme beer brunch (not guided) at the South Philly Tap Room, stopped in a cafe that sells an extensive array of craft beer and also prides itself on its quality coffee, had snacks and more beers at the Devil's Den, and finally ended our eating and drinking extravaganza at a Vietnamese restaurant in a little Vietnamese enclave we happened upon.

So, yes. My liver needs a break. But like I said: who's going to drink all this beer if not me??

Oh, and the empanada was delicious. A++ would eat again. The NJ blueberries are also my favorite blueberries in the world. I just ate half a box for dessert.

And in the Grow Box I planted a Japanese eggplant, 2 sweet peppers, and 2 fish peppers (not sure what these are; they are heirloom seeds I got last year and the plants didn't make it last year, so I'm trying again with them). There might be more room in the box, but the instructions indicate that's plenty, so I'll see how it goes. I also put 2 basil plants in where the carrots failed. Nothing I've planted in the ground so far has done so hot. The cilantro and dill also never came up. The hot peppers finally did start growing, but they are still teeny tiny, so I'm keeping them inside for now.

Oh bureaucracy

2010-06-02T15:25:00.003-04:00

There was no line at the 34th St. and 7th Ave. post office just now, if you can believe that. I thought what the hell, I'll go to a human. I put my packages on the counter and the woman behind the counter looked at me and said, "how can I help you?" Um. You can mail these packages for me?

She put the first one on the scale. The package had media mail written on it. She proceeded to read me every single mailing option, including one that would cost me over a hundred dollars. I guess that one gets there yesterday. I cut her off and said, "whichever is cheapest, presumably media mail." She replied, while pointing at a sign above her computer that was too far away for me to read, "it's the law. I have to read you all your options."

She kept reading. I cut her off again. "Are you going to have to read these options for all seven of my packages?"

"No!" she said huffily.

"I thought you said it's the law."

"It is, but I don't have to if I don't wanna."

"So, are you going to read me the options on all my packages?"

"Yes!"

Wow. What?

I said, "I thought since there was no line this would be the quicker options since you could enter the info faster than I could on the automated machine. But clearly that is not the case after all." I gathered up my stuff and went to the machine.

I have not gone to a human at that post office in a long time due to the fact that there is always a huge long line. I have no idea why there was no line today, but now I understand why there is usually a huge long line. I wonder when that ridiculous law went into effect?

Oh hey, look! I'm blogging. How about that.

Back in London

2010-02-03T11:13:00.002-05:00

Sam Smith's are definitely my favorite British beers. With Taddy Porter, Nut Brown and Oatmeal Stout to choose from, how can I go wrong?

On Saturday we went to TKTS to see for what play we could get cheap tickets. The line was long at noon, so we went to London's so-called Chinatown (it's 2 blocks) and had a delicious yet ridiculously expensive dim sum lunch and then went back to TKTS where the line was completely gone.

We bought 2nd row seats to The Little Dog Laughed. The ticket agent warned that some might not like being that close to the stage because you have to crane your neck. He said, though, that as an actor he likes being that close. We took our chances and were glad we did.

Our hotel room this trip is spacious and it is stocked daily with 2 new packs of Walkers cookies. "Is your hotel that white concrete monstrosity overlooking Hyde Park?" asked a British colleague in NYC when I told him I had found a good hotel. Um. Maybe.

The term "tabled" means the exact opposite in the UK than it does in the US. Quite confusing really. And you don't say you have bought a house or a condo. You say you are buying it. That is, until you have fully paid it off. Semantics!

Also confusing: I thought my colleague was referring to a conference room called Island. I told others to meet us in the Island room. They were smart enough to realize I must have meant the Ireland room.

Yorkshire pudding is really delicious! All this time I assumed it would have the consistency of, you know, PUDDING. In reality, it has pretty much zero in common with chocolate or banana pudding.

(I wrote this on my phone and posted it from there, which is why I accidentally posted it on my popcorn blog first. Oops.)

An ode to magazines

2010-01-05T21:42:00.004-05:00

Magazines are extremely portable and easy to read on the train. There is no complicated folding in fourths involved, meaning you can actually turn the pages while hanging on to a subway pole. You can fold them in half, if you must, to squeeze them into a purse or roll them into a tube and just carry them like that. You don't need to worry about creasing their spines or accidentally ripping pages when you turn them.

They are disposable, although I do feel a little bit of remorse about throwing them away (or recycling), especially if an issue is extra interesting. Maybe someone out there would enjoy that article on the wacky CEO of Whole Foods! (That's definitely not the most interesting article I've ever read, just the most recent. I'm actually only reluctantly subscribing to the NYer this year.)

They show up in my mailbox, all ready to be flipped through*, not necessitating a trip to the store or even powering up my computer.

*Note: I do not actually flip through my magazines. I read them cover to cover, only skipping what bores me and then turning the page to discover another wonderful and short gem. I have considered flipping through them or at least perusing the table of contents and reading the most interesting articles first, but I can't bring myself to do it. It seems wrong! The magazine was carefully laid out in a certain order on purpose, right? It was clearly meant to be read that way. (Do not dispute this method. It is my method. You stick to your methods.)

Magazine pages can be ripped out, dog-eared, cut, spilled on, sat on, wrinkled, rumpled, sweat on, and used to squash bugs, among other things. And yet we can still read on. Long live the magazine, I hope.

Unlike the newspaper, magazines do not go stale the day they arrive. Why, a monthly, in theory, lasts a month! There is so little pressure with magazines, unless you subscribe to multiple magazines. Then there is a little bit of pressure.

Greetings from London

2010-01-01T15:06:00.000-05:00

At Newark airport one receives a plastic (metallic colored) knife with a regular metal fork when eating at a sit-down restaurant. On the plane, we received regular metal knives.

The veg/vegan meal on the plane always comes with a cup of water, but the regular meals come with none.

The majority of British beer is not that exciting to me. I do like the London Porter very much, though.

I'm currently at the Cleveland Arms, near our hotel, waiting for Jeff to finish watching Dr. Who. He is SO excited to be seeing it first run on BBC while in England. They have Leffe on tap at this bar. I ordered a pint, which may not have been the wisest choice, considering I could have had a half pint. And considering that I just drank a shot of espresso before this. My tummy hates me. (note: I don't drink coffee normally.)

Our hotel room is very small by American standards, about the same size as the one we had in Kyoto, actually. The bathroom in this one is basically a shower with a toilet and a sink in it. (Things get a bit wet.)

The night we arrived, we went out to Hampton Court to meet up with a colleague of mine. We went to a cozy pub where a beagly mutty creature lifted his leg on the fake Xmas tree. An old dude with long hair, sitting by the fire, said to the dog's owner, when he came over to clean up the mess, "I'm a puppy!" The dog's owner, who half-heartedly swabbed at the floor beneath the tree, replied, "Well, I'm not housetraining you!" (Note: the dog was no puppy either.)

At a pub this evening an actual puppy made off with Jeff's hat while tahe owner sat back and laughed.

When crossing streets in London, even after reading the signs indicating to look left or right, I cannot help but quickly glance in the direction from which my gut expects a car to appear.

Japan, quickly

2009-11-24T10:08:00.003-05:00

Before I pass out from all the delicious sake:

1. Perhaps even better than a hotel room robe is a hotel room kimono, especially if it's green with a dark purple tie.

2. The guide books to Tokyo are all wrong. They should just say this: Look, you will get lost. Take the subway to such and such neighborhood and just walk around. We won't bother suggesting any particular restaurants because you will never ever find them. Nor will any cabbie, so don't bother going that route because you will just embarrass him and frustrate you.

3. I have seen signs for no smoking while walking and no putting on make-up on the train. These are smart people, the Japanese.

4. Restaurants tend not to give out napkins with dinner, although they do give you a heated, warmed towel, which they do not collect. So, I guess you are to keep this on the table and wipe your fingers on it if they get sticky. Laps remain unprotected, however.

5. At the izakaya bar we happened onto after dinner this evening, they offered various grilled things. For less than $2 you could get a couple bites of the following, grilled: onion with cheese, tomatoes with cheese, Kyoto pepper, wheat gluten, rice ball, leek. We tried all those and they were all delicious. I love a bar that offers interesting snacks, especially in inexpensive, small portions.

Notes from Penang, Malaysia

2009-11-18T01:40:00.005-05:00

I arrived in Penang on a Friday evening and checked into my $35/night hotel (the Sunway). The hotel gave me a free map, which gives a very vague idea of the layout of the downtown. It seemed only the main streets were listed. The street my hotel was located on was not listed. The concierge aka server in the dining area circled a spot on the map and said the hotel was roughly located in that spot.

With my sense of direction being as bad as it is, I was a bit trepidatious about setting off on a walk just before dark, armed only with a mediocre map. But on a 48 hour trip, one does not hang out in the hotel room.

Not too far from my hotel I happened upon a temple of some sort. A big sign said WELCOME over the door, so I wandered in. A man in a turban sitting by the door said, "go in, go in!" A couple of women told me to go ahead and go upstairs. The motherly one of the group showed me where to find a loaner scarf and where to leave my shoes. I went and had a look. Honestly, there was not much to see and I felt strange being trusted to be in their worship area all by myself.

Back downstairs, the motherly woman said they were going to a festival and asked if I'd like to come. I said, "thank you, no," and headed back in the direction of my hotel on foot. A few minutes later, a car slowed beside me and beeped. It was the 3 women. "Are you coming?" the one said. What the hell, I thought. An adventure.

They took me to another temple, where they were celebrating the birthday of the prophet Guru. Shoes off, head scarf borrowed from the communal pile, upstairs to pray. I held back, but she beckoned me over. An old woman sat on the floor, doling out small portions of some sort of sweet, mushy grain. I ate the portion offered me. A man on a dais was reading from a holy book. The four of us women retreated to the back of the room where we sat on the floor and ate the snack.

Back on the first floor, they insisted I join them for a vegetarian Indian meal. It was nothing special, but I felt compelled to eat it all. My appetite was then ruined for other Penang delicacies. But I rallied and went to the Red Garden hawker center after taking my leave of the Sikhs.

One of the Sikh women ate soupy lentils with her fingers and then used a spoon to eat custard. I think custard would have made for easier finger food. There were no napkins, only sinks.

On Saturday I took a taxi to Penang Hill. It seemed extravagent to take taxis everywhere, but they were cheap according to US standards: $14 for a 35 min. taxi ride. There are two funiculars to reach the summit of the hill. Each one goes halfway. There are several cars with one bench per car. Everyone else squishes in and stands. It's a little excrutiating, but I think the walk back down would have been even more so. It takes nearly a half hour to reach the summit.

I was extremely disappointed to discover that the capopy walk is indefinitely closed for repairs. I was really looking forward to that. To make up for it, I wandered off of the well-marked paths, but did not see anything particularly interesting.

After Penang Hill, I went to Kek Lok Si, a large Chinese Buddhist temple complex, also containing a small funicular to reach the top level housing the 50-foot Buddha. I think this was the highlight of my trip. The temple was so striking.

I felt I had to see the beach. A drive-by would have been more than sufficient. Instead I spent 2 hours on the dirty beach, waiting for the night market to open at 7pm. Turned out the night market sells mostly the same stuff they sell in Chinatown in NYC.

Sunday a.m. was a bit of a wash. I failed to budget my time appropriately to explore more of the downtown, but did see the so-called floating mosque and the snake temple (underwhelming as well) and had one more delicious meal from a hawker market. Due to a lack of clear communication, I got a taxi at 10am to take me to those 2 places and arrive at the airport at 3pm. I should have realized I was leaving waaaay too much time for this excursion and wandered around the downtown before getting a taxi. Oh well. Lesson learned. The driver suggested taking me to the Pinang Peranakan Mansion museum, which was not a bad choice. And I still did quite a bit with my half day.

Note to self: when buying a can of iced tea in Asia, first check that it doesn't contain aloe bits. YUCK.

Penang photos here.

In which I talk about something completely different

2009-11-05T10:50:00.003-05:00

You may get a pair of chopsticks or you may get a fork and spoon with your meal, but I have yet to get a knife with a meal.

Food is cut with the spoon. Presumably nothing is so tough that it needs to be sawed. And if it is uncuttable, you stab the entire piece with the fork and bite off of it, perhaps holding the spoon underneath it, in case it falls. Imagine doing this with a chicken wing.

I thought in Asia people picked up their bowls of noodles and slurped them into their mouths. It is possible that that is the case, but when it comes to a lunch dish that consists of a plate of noodles topped with slices of pork, it is not to slurped. I *think* you are supposed to pick up the noodles with your chopsticks and place them in the soup spoon and then put this in your mouth.

Or, I'm doing it all wrong and there will soon be another international incident.

I suspect that people have their work manners on when I'm dining with them at lunchtime. It was mentioned when I was taken for fish head curry that if my colleagues were not worried about getting messy, they'd be picking at the bones with their hands. I have to hope that they use their hands *sometimes.* I really can't imagine eating a whole chili crab speared on a fork.

For about $2.15, I can get a big cup of freshly juiced juice. I'm a novice at this juice thing. I never get it at home since it's so expensive. I've been wanting a juicer, though. It seems that not all fruits are good mixes. Today I got pineapple and kiwi. It tasted good, but it kept separating.

I thought I was going to be getting bubble tea every day, but juice it is.

In which the bumbling American makes a faux pas

2009-11-03T10:25:00.004-05:00

I knew about the business card culture in Asia. Rather, I thought I knew about the business card culture in Asia. I knew about how you are supposed to hand over your card using both hands, print facing the recipient. When you receive the card, you are to look it over and then carefully put it in your breast pocket. I'm not sure where it's appropriate for women to put them.

What I did NOT know is that in Asia, business cards are handed out like relief supplies after a flood (said one of my Asian colleagues). My colleagues in the Singapore office said they go through boxes and boxes of cards every year.

I have barely made a dent in my own box of cards, which I received nearly five years ago. I carry around maybe 10 cards at most at any given time and those 10 cards tend to remain in my wallet for months at a time. As a web editor I don't encounter too many people with whom I exchange cards.

Last night, some colleagues invited me along to some industry parties. I should preface this by also adding that last week when I arrived, the office manager asked if I needed her to order me any cards. At the time I thought that a strange question and I replied that no, I was good. (I had many in my wallet. Ten or twelve even!)

So, I go to these two parties and my colleagues are exchanging cards with contacts left and right and they introduce me as a person working on the web and these people are handing me their cards and I am saying: "Thank you, but I'm not actually in the industry. Please keep your card to give to someone else so that you don't run out of them." Neither of the people I'm with (both Singapore natives) is telling me this is the wrong thing to say, I might add.

Apparently what is even worse than refusing a proferred card is implying that you are too good to take the person's card.

The Singapore office found my actions extremely amusing and they laughed heartily at me. I protested that they ought to have warned me! This made them laugh even harder. If they weren't being so welcoming in every other regard, I would have to hold a grudge.

Chinatown, etc.

2009-10-31T21:28:00.003-04:00

There is absolutely no tipping in Singapore, except maybe to round up to the next dollar when taking a taxi. It makes it easier to pay, but it feels so wrong to me.

Men in Singapore must serve in the military for 2 years when they turn 18. So, they don't begin university until they are 20 or 21. For the next 10 years, every year they have to go for yearly service, which can last from 1-14 days. They find out when they must report at least 6 months in advance so they can arrange for it with their jobs. The government pays their companies for their time. Women don't have to do any of this, but they can join the military and serve as officers if they so choose. I wonder if this means that women begin university 2 years before men do.

I'm not really minding living out of a hotel room. It's kind of nice having a maid! Although the price I pay is that every day I move the comfy chair by the desk (where the ethernet cable is) and every day the maid moves it back.

The malls are jam packed on Friday and Saturday nights. Good thing I decided to eat dinner early last night. The wait to get in to the sushi place was only about 15 minutes at 6pm. I was seated at the sushi counter, which is partly why going out for sushi alone is not at all awkward. The sushi chefs kept smiling at me and making small talk. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear them very well so I just smiled and nodded a lot. God knows what I agreed to.

I have been trying various iced desserts, of course. It seems that when I see a flavored soft serve listed on a menu, it's not the soft serve itself that is flavored, but rather a syrup that is poured over a vanilla one. I have had the sesame one and a hojiki (I think that's what it was) one, which was a Japanese tea. Both were really good. I might get the soft serve in a cup in the future, though, because I wind up having to lick off all the syrup.

I finally saw some black people today: fellow tourists in Chinatown. Chinatown was not as exciting as I remember it being on my last trip here with my former company. I think maybe the reason I went to Chinatown so often on that trip is because that office was right on the border of Chinatown.

I will have to go back to Chinatown near the end of my stay, however, to go to Dr. Fish Spa. I don't want the fish to eat off my pedicure, but I definitely want to give them a tasty meal of my dead feet skin.

Another post about food -- surprise, surprise!

2009-10-28T09:15:00.002-04:00

Now I think I understand why there are grocery stores in the malls. People don't do much cooking here so they probably don't need to buy a lot of food at a time. And why should they since there are good restaurants all over the place, especially in the malls?

Alcohol is pretty expensive because of the taxes, presumably. I bought a bottle of Australian Pinot Noir for $25 US dollars and it tastes like crap.

There's a bubble tea shop right across from the office. How ingenious is this? You can ask for the tea to be 25%, 50%, 75% or 100% sweet. They also offer small or large pearls.

The Singaporean preference is to drink black tea with sweetened condensed milk. It is surprisingly tasty. The office goes through so much of the stuff that they just leave it out on the counter. The kitchen at the office also has stocked cans of oolong tea which is nice and strong and not sweet. Some of the other offerings, like chrysanthamum tea, I have not yet tried.

The ladies' bathroom at the office contains one stall that is a hole in the floor. I don't know why this surprised me, but it did.

Eating way too much

2009-10-26T12:00:00.003-04:00

First impressions of Singapore:

Despite the heat and humidity, many locals are wearing jackets and tights. I'm not sure if it's an attempt to keep the sun off or if they are impervious to the heat.

There are Japanese products at the drug store advertising their skin whitening properties, including a cleanser (cleans off pigment?) and a 45 SPF face lotion (that not only protects but also whitens?).

On Kevin Utter's recommendation, I tried the chicken rice, which is indeed truly delicious. A hunk of ginger was hiding inside the rice.

While sitting in the Suntec mall, I saw a little girl with a bob and then another, longer layer of hair underneath. It was basically a rat tail, the width of her neck. Another kid, barely old enough to walk, was in flip flops. She flopped several times. Malls are EVERYWHERE. They stay open late, there are nice restaurants inside them and they are huge.

Two malls I've been in have a Carrefour inside. This surprised me at first, but today at work I found out that people don't cook much here, so I suppose they just pick up odds and ends at the grocery stores while out window shopping at the mall.

Unfortunately, the Carrefour I went into yesterday reeked of dourian. I really do not understand how people can eat a fruit that smells so horrible.

When I checked in, I found out that the breakfast buffet was included in my room rate. It is a combo of western and eastern. I had: fresh fruit, European style yogurt, pork bun, chicken bun, hash brown, bacon, cheese, whole grain bread, roasted tomatoes, mini veggie spring roll. I was so excited that I was going to have this selection for breakfast every day. And then I came back to my room this evening to a letter stating the hotel regretfully informs me that my room rate does not include the breakfast buffet. So sad. Probably for the best, though. I did find a small fruit bowl in my room this evening as well. I guess I will be having an apple for breakfast tomorrow, not a full spread. Sigh...

I should really not complain. The food has been delicious and plentiful. And I can see why people don't cook much. There are good and cheap options everywhere I turn. A colleague took me for dim sum at lunch today. There is dim sum within a short walking distance from the office! That pretty much made my day.

I took myself out for a sushi dinner tonight. I think the norm here might be to fill out a slip of paper selecting what pieces of sushi one wants. I do not understand why that's not the norm at home. I often make a list of what we want and then read it to the waitress. At our regular sushi place, I get teased for writing it down. Are people expected to remember??

The Beijing airport is lovely

2009-10-24T19:06:00.004-04:00

(That's a lie.)

In fact, it's a rather confusing airport. But it's much less confusing to me now that I have spent 8 hours there. It's probably a good thing I did have 8 hours to sort out my new connection (after missing the original one) since figuring that out was more than slightly complicated.

1. Could not go through customs because did not have visa.
2. By the time got special dispensation to go through customs, bags were no longer on carousel. Baggage office by carousel had no info. Sent us to find Continental desk.
3. Air China desk said we would maybe, maybe not get on the 11:30 pm flight to Singapore, but to come back at 10pm to see. It was then 4pm.
4. "What do we do if we have to wait until tomorrow?" we asked. "You can sleep on the benches if you don't have any money to get a hotel room," the Air China employee said. How generous. However, it was not the money issue, but the visa issue. We could not leave the airport.
5. Finally located baggage at Oversize Baggage Dropoff counter.
6. Sought out Continental office to find out if there were any other flights we could take. Finding the office was perhaps the trickiest of all since it was located behind a door marked EXIT.
7. Were told that we could actually leave the airport and stay in a hotel if need be, as long as we were going to be in China for less than 24 hours. Much relieved.

In the end, we got on the flight and I'm here in Singapore and the sun just came up and my room is on the 19th floor. My view includes two churches.

I don't know how I would have stayed awake in Beijing if it weren't for my new friend, a 64-year-old man from Easton, PA, who was also trying to get to Singapore.

My room includes not only the Gideon Bible but also The Teaching of Buddha. Thankfully I'm nosy because I just found the hair dryer in the desk drawer.

The Beijing airport has numerous stations for filling water bottles. Many employees had water bottles or bottles of tea.

The green tea I got on the Air China flight was amazing.

My seatmate on the plane poured his fruit cup into the coffee cup that came with his tray and drank it like fruit soup.

After 36 hours of traveling, my hair looks as good as it does on most days. However, the customs folk in China still asked me to take off my glasses and smile while they squinted at me. Finally, the one agent said, "It's her."

My hotel room is quite spacious. There is a fridge and a kettle and even a scale. But there are no shelves in the bathroom.

I may get a pedicure today. I really don't like getting my toenails clipped, but I will just clip them in advance and request they not do it. My feet look frightful, so it must be done.

The end of a great trip

2009-09-19T18:40:00.003-04:00

I think about how wonderful it would be to live in a city where everyone bikes. Groups of adults bike together and it seems perfectly normal whereas at home the oldest group of people on bikes would be under age 16. And they would probably be considered a menace. Then again, part of the allure has been the perfect early fall weather. I would prefer not to solely rely on a bike for transportation if it were 40 degrees and raining.

Today we went to Christiania, which is a hippie commune on a small man-made island. At one time the residents has seceeded from Denmark. Now they are supposedly moving towards rejoining Denmark, but it is still an enclave where outsiders are welcome to visit. One can view their art and buy their beer and hash and hang out, but no photos are allowed at all, which of course drove me nuts.

The craft beer loving folk in Copenhagen is a small community. We keep running into the same people. I love that. I also love that both times we've gone to Olbaren (which translates to beer bar) people have been so friendly.

In case it is not apparent from all I've written from here thus far, Copenhagen is a GREAT beer town. The best part? I don't think most people in the US realize that, so our fellows are not flocking here.

But I assure you, if you come here for beer, you will not be disappointed. Just save up plenty because it's every bit as expensive as you've been led to believe.

Many places serve dinner prix fixe only and the prix tends to be around $40 for an entree only. A local subway ride costs $4. A cup of tea costs $5. A delicious consommé that Jeff ordered was $20. Anyway, you get the picture.

I'm so glad we came on this trip. When I was on my way here I was almost apologetic about why we were coming. And now I feel guilty about that. Copenhagen is great and I'm even a little teary-eyed about departing.

Oh and ps: Tivoli really is just an amusement park. We have those at home.

Eating, drinking, biking aka day 3 in Copenhagen

2009-09-18T14:26:00.001-04:00

It turns out that all the bikes we thought were not locked up actually have little locks that stick a bar through the spokes on the back wheel. When we went to retrieve the bikes we had rented from our hotel we could not figure out where to insert the key until we were shown. A woman, a fellow guest, from South Africa was in the dark about it as well.

She said she was on her own for the day while her husband went to a conference, so we invited her along with us to get smorsbord I think they call it here. I'm unclear on whether it's the same as smorgesbord because here it means simply small open-face sandwiches.

Jeff got the herring and I got a selection of three: chicken with crispy Parma ham, herring, and roast beef. All were exquisite. We also shared a big bottle of local beer. The menu did not specify the types of beer sold because, the waiter said, it depends on what they brew and send over. The beer was brown and a little sweet and apparently is it's own style.

I have only seen two people wearing biking gear. Everyone else is on a city bike, wearing heels, trousers, skirts, etc.

Our hotel did not have enough helmets for everyone and they did not seem too concerned about it.

The bikes have higher handlebars and a cover over the chain -- perfect for city riding. The bike lanes are fairly pervasive, but not completely. There are even turn lanes for bikes. I am not certain where bikers are supposed to go when the bike lane turns into a car turn lane and the bikers wish to continue straight.

Last night we went to a brewpub for dinner where all the food is made with beer. We then went to a local pub where we arrived at 11:30. The place seemed pretty dead and we expected it would be closing soon. The bartender was incredibly knowledgable and told us all about the Danish beer selections. Anything similar to Belgians he frowned upon, though. He said in Belgium he only drinks Lambics (and yes he's had Lambic and chocolate stout and he likes it).

We mentioned that we were on our personal beer tour of the city. He said, "hold on, then. I'm going to call a preeminent Danish brewer and a guest brewer from Vermont." He was on the phone briefly and then said, "okay, they said they'd be here in 35 seconds."

At 2 am, long after Jacob had shut he door to any new entrants, the group that had magically appeared at Olbaren started drifting homeward. Shaun, the guest brewer from Vermont, is starting his own brewery in March, which will be called Hill Farmstead Brewery. He doesn't like Belgian beers either though.

He and Jacob were quite fond of a 2.5% smoky sailor's beer, which Jacob insisted I drink one of (on the house) before I was allowed to order another beer. It started growing on me but the smoky burps later on were horrible. I wanted to try a large bottle of Mickeller Beer Geek Breakfast, which is made with weasel shit coffee, Jacob told me. I said I would need to split it with someone, though. Jacob said he would be happy to. I don't know how trustworthy my palate was by then but i remember it being an excellent and full-bodied beer.

Tonight we will hit a few more places, including plan b, where Jacob says he'll be working. Oh crap... we researched all the bars but no restaurants. Now we must find somewhere to eat before tonight's pubcrawl.

Copenhagen day 2

2009-09-17T14:16:00.003-04:00

I'm not sure if I have mentioned quite how expensive it is here. It is really expensive. Local beers are $10-12.

Our hotel key is made of balsawood instead of plastic.

When people go into restaurants, schools, bars, etc. they leave their bikes and baby carriages leaning against the outside wall, mainly unlocked.

Maybe 5% of adults wear bike helmets. About 75% of kids wear them when riding with adults.

Three-wheeled bikes with a box in the front seems to be an ideal method of carting around several small children plus groceries.

I'm guessing that because it's a good bit cooler in the shade, this is why on the same day I have seen women wearing shorts and sandals and another wearing a jacket and gloves.

Most everyone is nicely dressed, except for the old dude wearing leggings and a crop top with his belly hanging out.

The weather is gorgeous, at least

2009-09-16T11:45:00.003-04:00

In Copenhagen, the baby carriages are all old style: gigantic cribs on gigantic wheels. One baby I saw was wedged in using what looked like those removable dividers that came with my Crumpler camera bag (although these dividers were slightly larger). Another baby I saw was sitting up on his knees, leaning over the far end of the stroller, peering down at the street in front of him. As he passed me by quickly I did notice a harness on his back, but I didn't grasp quite how he was strapped in securely.

As nice as everyone seems to be here, some jerk out there has my wallet and spent $400 of my money right here in Copenhagen. Luckily Wachovia is crediting the funds back to me. But it did put a bit of a damper on my day today. I arrived at noon and spent until nearly 4 trying to straighten this all out. It didn't help matters that I had gotten myself to the hotel when I realized it was gone and then had no way to go retrace my route to the airport to ask at various lost & founds. One of the hotel workers very kindly loaned me his train ticket, but my search turned up no leads. And then the call to Wachovia confirmed that my wallet was definitely not going to turn up. Must not forget to tip Lars for his generosity.

After all the cards were cancelled I found a credit card that I had for some reason put in a different place than in my wallet. But it was too late. It was already cancelled.

I got a bit weepy when I called Jeff to tell him the bad news, but I am now realizing that it's really not that big of a deal. I'll have to replace my driver's license, of course, but the cancelled cards will come to me in the mail soon enough. And Jeff will be here in an hour or so with money.

The hotel has a lovely spread of free fruit on the check-in counter and a woman was giving away samples of Wasa crackers, which she offered me both times I walked by and which I did not refuse. So, I have not starved.

Amsterdam, briefly

2009-09-16T02:54:00.002-04:00

In the Amsterdam airport I have seen: 2 cheese shops, a wall of meat, 2 flower/bulbs shops, a ride-on mop, a casino, a one-legged woman and a woman in a wheel chair, sticking her legs straight out in front of her.

I ate a $10 panini for 2 a.m.sies (or whatever mealtime it is now here, breakfast I guess), which was admittedly delicious but damn. Ten dollars.

The airport is rather large. It took me a half hour to walk to my gate, not that I minded. But I did not notice any other way to get around besides on feet.

I got zero sleep on the plane so I'm not sure what fumes I'm running on right now but by the time I reach Copenhagen at noon I fear I will be crashing.

First world problems

2009-09-09T22:30:00.004-04:00

Usually packing for trips does not stump me, but packing for a month in Singapore followed by a week in Japan in late November has me lying awake at night and making lengthy to-do lists on my iPhone while lying awake.

I've always been partial to keeping lists for packing, but this is extreme, especially since I don't leave for 6 weeks. Ahhhhh! Six weeks is so soon! How will I get it all figured out before then?

The deal is: I'll be in Singapore (where it's hot) for 4 weeks working. And then I'll be in Japan for one week for vacation (where it's supposed to be pretty much like it is here in November). If I were packing for only one climate I think I would be a lot less stressed out about this. Especially since I'll be working, I'll need multiple pairs of shoes and that sort of thing. Not the way I normally pack.

And then there is the whole toiletry situation. Do I buy shampoos and whatnot there? What about toothpaste? Lotion? What am I very particular about that I must have brands I know? (face cream, curl encourager, band aids, stuff for my time of the month) For the stuff that I do bring, how will I know that I'm bringing enough?

See, this is what keeps me up at night.

Then there is the audio situation. I will certainly miss listening to Pandora and NPR. I can still stream NPR on my laptop, I presume. I have all my CDs on my ipod, but to play it, I will need to bring portable speakers. That seems a little unnecessary, though. My work laptop has none of my music on it and I don't want to spend hours and hours putting music on it, really. So that is a dilemma to still be worked out. I want to take 30 Day Shred, but my laptop's CD-ROM is detachable and I don't intend to take it. I am seriously considering recording myself announcing what exercises to do. This is how bad it has gotten.

Then I need The Perfect Bag for everyday use. I think this bag will be a satchel type bag. It will be cute, but functional. It will have some pockets inside and out. It will fit my laptop if need be, in its own sleeve, so a built-in pocket is not necessary. It will fit my camera and all of the usual junk that I carry around in my purse on a daily basis, including a water bottle. It will be comfortable to carry and it will not be too large. Every time I look at eBags I think I have settled on a different one.

Too blah?
Too young? The reviews say mostly 10-year-olds use this bag.
Maybe?

It goes on and on. Even now one of those I am listing here is one I had not noticed before. Too much choice!

And I haven't even gotten to the suitcase situation yet. The one I tend to use is good for a week's vacation. Ten days requires reeeeally careful packing and a lot of rewearing and washing of things in sinks. This one suitcase is not going to hack it. Traveling with two suitcases seems like tourist failure to me, but most tourists don't travel for five weeks, so I guess I get a pass this once. I hope.

Auction for beerituality

2009-08-12T21:49:00.002-04:00

If you're my Facebook friend, you've already seen my posts about this, but just in case you didn't, here is the info again.

Jeff and his friend Lou are making a movie called Beerituality. To raise some money for the movie, a bunch of our wonderful friends donated handmade items that we're selling on eBay.

The auctions for many of the items end on Thursday night. So, please take a look at the items that are listed here on eBay and bid if you see something you like.

Thanks for your support if you have already bid!

Exhausted and wide awake

2009-07-10T00:41:00.001-04:00

Since I got home from Seattle I've been having trouble sleeping. I guess it's jetlag, but does jetlag cause a person to wake up a lot during the night and consequently be really tired the next day and then not able to sleep that night either?

Part of the problem is that Jeff has started snoring recently. His response when I tell him to please roll over or whatever is "I wasn't snoring." Thankfully the new iPhone software comes with a great little voice recorder. I emailed a recording of his snores to him. He had no response.

So my choices are sleeping pills, the sleep-inducing app, ear plugs, waiting until I'm so exhausted I pass out. I find that ear plugs hurt so those would not be a good option. If you have any other suggestions, please let me know.

Vancouver, an overview

2009-07-04T22:19:00.000-04:00

Big City Cupcakes on Howe St. has made my second morning in a row. Yesterday we shared a chocolate cupcake with strawberry buttercream frosting. OH MY GOD. Today I had chocolate cheesecake with a blob of cheesecake creaminess inside and tart buttercream frosting on the top. OH MY GOD.

I call bullshit on the Vancouver Starbucks. If you are not clear on which sort of iced tea I want, please ask. I have never been automatically given sweetened tea before and I do not buy your story that it comes sweet unless you specify.

Longboat Chocolate Porter (Phillips Brewing, Victoria, BC) is the absolutely perfect combination of beer and chocolate and can currently be found at The Alibi Room. Although I suspect they change up the taps fairly often. It's the only bar we found in Vancouver that has a whole page of local beers on tap. Most of the others only had the current three or so available from one brewer.

Why in the world do we not have Japanese tapas in New York?? At Hapa Izakaya we had more wild salmon sashimi. OH MY GOD. And we got the B.C. sashimori selection which included the salmon, prawns and scallop sashimi. I have never eaten such a delicious scallop. We ARE ruined for sushi, I'm afraid.

The toppings for the hot dogs (including veggie dogs) at Japadog included bonito flakes, wasabi mayo, radish, soy sauce, teriyaki sauce. I'm not saying those sorts of toppings were not tasty. They would just take some getting used to on a hot dog.

There are gorgeous mountain views all around Vancouver and various little beaches around downtown. We saw an amazing sunset from one of the beaches last night at 10 p.m.

Anyway, back to the food. A roll we saw at two sushi places (and ate at one) that I have never seen at home and which is super delicious is the magma roll. The magma is a black sesame sauce drizzled on top of a regular roll. I don't remember what was inside. It might have been a California roll or something like that. The sauce is what stood out.

West coast Amtrak vs. East coast Amtrak
On the west coast one must line up an hour before departure time to get a seat assignment, even if you have already purchased your tickets online. If you arrive 20 mins. before the train departs you will still get a seat but the line will be long and your view will not be as scenic.

The plus side is that people traveling together will be pretty much guaranteed seats together and there is no frantic searching for available seats.

Available to eat on the west coast Amtrak: shrimp dumplings and wild Alaskan salmon. Everything else is pretty much the same.

One surprising twist on the wine vs. beer issue is that the three types of microbrews available on the train are pictured and described. The wines are described as merely Merlot, Cabarnet and Sauvignon Blanc. When I asked the cafe employee what kind of wine he had he repeated back the three types listed on the board. As it turns out, the Cabernet is from Hahn Estates in CA and for $12 a split is a pretty good deal and rather tasty.

Twitter vs. Facebook

2009-04-17T13:19:00.005-04:00

I finally figured it out. I may be the last one, but I am a little slow, so bear with me.

Facebook allows for cross-posting your tweets to FB, but it's pointless. If I follow you on FB, I don't need to see the same posts on Twitter and vice versa.

What I have come to realize is that Twitter and FB updates have their own unique purposes.

FB friends are people I know in real life (for the most part), so those updates can be more personal.

On Twitter I am followed by many people I've never met. They could (presumably) not care less about what I'm eating for dinner, how much I love my new shoes, etc. (Of course, it is debatable as to whether my FB friends care either, but that is a different story.)

After the election I stopped using Twitter for a while because of all the duplicate posts. I loved watching the debates with Twitter, but after that, my interest waned considerably.

Now I have it figured out. Twitter is useful to me for one thing only: discussions about toics of common interest. Topics may include news, conferences, movies, beers, restaurants, brands, etc.

Twitter is a public forum. If I tweet about the Beer Wars movie, people from around the country are going to soon search on "beerwars", see my comments and those by everyone else tweeting about the movie. It's a shared experience like nothing else I can think of. And, actually, it's pretty fabulous. I'm all fired up about Twitter again.

And now I'm going to unfollow all of my Twitter friends who cross-post to FB. It's nothing personal, guys. If you decide to separate the two, please post a message on FB so that I can start following you again.

No, not yoga for dogs

2009-04-08T22:18:00.004-04:00

Thanks for all the feedback about the yoga and pilates classes. Maybe I was jumping the gun a tad by thinking I should buy a year-long membership after taking only one class. (Actually, I was only going to buy a 3-month membership. Much more reasonable.)

I went to a beginner yoga class last night and then I bought two 10-packs, one for yoga and one for pilates.

I cannot adequately describe how beneficial this yoga class was for me. I felt relaxed and appreciated and safe and content. Is that how yoga usually goes? I've only done it maybe 2 or 3 times in my life and it was always in a big class with very little personal attention.

This class only had three students. The instructor (who is the same person who teaches the pilates classes) showed us (me, really) variations on every pose. With almost every pose she walked around to check that each of us had more or less the correct form.

She said the yoga classes never get much bigger than a few people. I find that surprising, but maybe it's because there are other yoga studios all around.

I kind of want to go every day, but I'm going to wait until next Monday to go back. Maybe I'm just a little bit too excited about taking these classes.

Philly beer week, I love you, and a question

2009-03-24T10:35:00.007-04:00

Philly beer week was fabulous. Next year we will definitely try to talk as many friends as possible into going with us. The saddest part was that we had to miss the vast majority of the events taking place in Philly during the work week.

As soon as we arrived, we went straight to a tasting lunch with Stone and Dogfish Head beers to drink and brewers in attendance. How often does the CEO of Stone Brewing sit at your table, with just you and your husband, to chat about beer and such? I will tell you: not very often.

After lunch, I'm a little embarressed to admit, we took a nap.

The only other official event we attended was the jazz happy hour at TIME restaurant. There was nothing that made it seem like an event, unless the place is normally empty on a Saturday night (unlikely). And the kids we saw playing New Orleans-style jazz on the street were way more fun than the jazz being played at the restaurant.

We went to Zot for dinner, a Belgian restaurant we noticed in the old town the last time we were visiting. There was no official event going on, but we wanted to check it out. They serve mussels with 50-some varities of sauces and they have a fabulous selection of beers. The end of beer week coincides with foie gras week, so I made the questionable decision to have two of the foie gras appetizers for my meal. It was, I believe, due to this divinely delicious but incredibly heavy meal that I was barely able to move after dinner and we had to forego any more beer week activities for the evening.

For brunch on Sunday we went to one of our new faves, the Belgian Cafe. The eggs Benedict on a Belgian waffle was truly inspired.

And now, a question.

Last night I went to a pilates class at a tiny studio in Jersey City. I have been searching for just such a class in just such an environment for years. They also offer yoga and various other classes. I was pretty sure going into last night's class that unless there was something really horrible about it, I would be joining this ... what do you call it exactly? Hold on, that's not the real question.

The more you pay for at once, the less you pay per class. The pilates classes are $12 each and the yoga are $18. If I buy a 10 pack of each, I pay $10 and $15 per class, respectively. So, if I take one of each per week, that's $25. Or, I could pay $99 for an unlimited monthly membership. OR, I could pay $269 and get 3 months of unlimited. (Or I could pay $719 for a year of unlimited, but that seems really crazy at this juncture.) This seems a little nuts, taking one class, and then handing over $269, but it's not that unreasonable, is it? Hold on, that's not the actual question either.

It's not that I can't afford this. I totally can. It's just that gyms don't typically cost $88 a month and only include classes. Although, to be fair, Maximum Motion does include a few classes per week that involve weight use. But the other thing is that I don't like gyms and so if I join one, I'm unlikely to ever go to it. If I work out, I run. But I would really like to be able to do pilates and yoga and maybe another class now and then. Is it ridiculous to pay that much for a few classes per week? (That's the real question.) I should note that because of the studio being small, everyone gets personal attention and is on a first-name basis. The instructor told me that yoga on Thursdays usually only has 2-3 people in attendance.

My mind is pretty much made up. I'm just curious what others think.

Eau de Penn Station

2009-03-11T15:10:00.004-04:00

There is a hallway in Penn Station that has always smelled like cheap lemon yogurt. I don't hate lemon yogurt (although it's not my first choice). But smelling it down there is so disgusting that I breathe through my mouth when I walk by. Of course, I am often compelled to take a quick whiff to check that it still smells like lemon yogurt. (It still does, as of an hour ago.)

I used to think the smell came from the ice cream stand that was on that hallway. But the ice cream stand is long since gone and now there is an Auntie Annie's there. There is no reason for a pretzel stand to smell like lemon yogurt.

This weekend is the end of Philly beer week. There is so much going on that we are having to make difficult decisions about which events to attend. Do we go to the 3-hour seated prix fixe lunch (with beers from Dogfish Head and Stone) or do we go to the pay-as-you-go session with River Horse (one of my fave brewers) and classic Philly foods, such as fried Tastykakes? We finally chose the seated lunch. It's only $35, too.

There is a jazz happy hour (with Moinette Brune, Saison DuPont, and Scaldis Belgian Strong) and a special Sam Adams release party (for Double Bock, Imperial White and Imperial Stout with matched chocolate and cheese) and a beer brunch on Sunday...

We are going to be so full of beer by Sunday afternoon we are going to swear it off. For at LEAST a week. (Now Jeff is telling me he already has those Sam Adams beers, so maybe we don't need to attend that one.)

You can say you knew me when

2009-03-05T18:17:00.004-05:00

Apparently, I have a thing for foods that are more than one thing. Not foods that satisfy more than one food category (such as pretzels covered in chocolate -- that is WRONG). I mean foods that are two things at once, such as the amazing Flip Sides Townhouse crackers, which are a cheesy cracker on one side and a pretzel on the other side. Pure genius. Pure delicious, as well.

Another example of this brilliant food combining technique would be Tweeterz, which are candy-coated Twizzler nibs. Why stop with just delicious Twizzler nibs when you an make them even more delicious by giving them a candy coating? You don't need to answer that. I already know the answer.

The new exercise sensation that is soon going to be sweeping the nation was invented by me. This is how you do it. You put on some good dancing music. I went with a new wave station that I created on Pandora. And then you start dancing. While you are dancing you think up the next thing you are going to do, such as: lifting some weights, or doing some crunches, or some stretches, or some stretches AND some weight lifting, or some jumping or some running in place or some jumping jacks, or some pushups. Then you stop dancing and do one of those other moves for 15 reps or a minute or a song or whatever you like and then you start dancing again until you have decided on your next move.

I'd better patent this right away. I need to figure out a name first, though. Craigercize? Crexercise? Aeorcraige? Craigobics?

Invention

2009-03-01T17:01:00.004-05:00

I made the following dish for lunch. I call it: What's in the fridge that can be combined?

I was going to broil the eggplant, but I stupidly put it in 2 pans instead of the broiler pan that came with the oven and they would not both fit in the broiler. In the future I would definitely broil the eggplant and do the tomatoes, separately, in the oven.

I brushed the eggplant slices with a lemon olive oil we got at the Fancy Food show and which we had not yet used. I am definitely a fan of this for veggies. I have some asparagus that is begging to be roasted with this oil now.

When I flipped the 'plants, I added the sliced cherry tomatoes, which had been tossed with the olive oil, s&p. I sprinkled the 'plants with cumin and jalapeno powder and s&p.

I cut into triangles 4 corn tortillas, sprayed them with Pam, sprinkled salt on them, and put them in the oven, too. Setting off the fire alarm when they got crispy was not part of the plan.

When the tomatoes were bubbly and the eggplants were browned, I put 4 rounds on each plate, topped them with tomatoes and sprinkled on some grated sharp cheddar. Chips on the side.

Not stuck

2009-01-06T23:33:00.003-05:00

For what it is, I really do love our little apartment. I love the wall of closets, drawers and cubbies. I love the non-working fireplace. I love the heavy pocket doors. I love our pass-thru. I love our tiny bedroom and rather large bathroom. I love our eat-in kitchen. I love the shared backyard. I love the molding above the light fixture in the living room. I love the crown molding in the living room. I love the 2 greens we painted the living room and bedroom. I love our old man wing chairs. I love that we have space to have guests sit at the table. I love the big windows that let in lots of light. I love that our neighbors are easy-going and we share duties.

I love that parking is not very hard. I love that we can take different routes to and from the PATH train. I love walking by the little gallery on Coles every day. I love that the homeless people in front of the deli say hi cheefully to us. I love keeping track of buildings going up. I love the variety of restaurants.

Everything else, I hate. No, but overall, it's good. Sure, there's no way in hell we could sell our place now and get anything near what we paid for it. But it's not as if I hate it here. Far from it.

Highlights of Christmas in Montreal

2008-12-26T10:54:00.004-05:00

1. Apparently on my iPhone I can only type in the HTML editing box. I wonder why that is. But I can type on the horizontal so that makes typing much easier.

2. Oh yeah, I got an iPhone. Last week I was on the PATH train on the way to work when I realized I was sitting in a puddle of water. I of course blamed the person who had been sitting there before me. I moved over one seat and went back to my book, only to feel a drip a minute later on my calf. I realized the water was coming from my purse, which of course meant an entire 12 oz bottle of water had leaked into my purse and then onto me. My Treo sputtered and popped when I tried to turn it on.

When I got to the office, I called Jeff and said, "I'm going to buy an iPhone today" (we had agreed to buy them in January). He said I couldn't do that and I should just wait. I said, "but I need a phone!" He made me promise to wait and I said, "look, if you got me an iPhone, just tell me because otherwise I'm going to go buy one today." He finally caved and said okay but I had to guess which box it was in.

3. But back to Montreal. On the 24th, we took the subway to the Marche Jean-Talon where we went the last time we were here, in the summertime. All the outdoor fruit and veg stands were closed this time, but there is still a whole inside market. My new favorite triple cream cheese might be this Quebecois one called Riopelle. The label says it is the only triple cream of Quebec. I also got these little cured meats called Grelots des Battures. Jeff says they look like cat turds. I say they are delicious. Per kilo, they cost twice as much as the triple cream.

4. Jeff kicked over a cup of tea onto his laptop in the middle of the present unwrapping. He managed to wait 24 hours before trying to put it back together and it is more or less together and functional again now (aside from one screw that is stuck in the wrong hole and some warping at the front by where it should latch.

5. When a lobster dinner for Christmas eve is not an option, fondue is an excellent alternative. We went all out at Fonduementale and got the Mentale selection, which is a 3-course deal starting with cheese fondue, followed by a seafood (scallops, shrimp, salmon, calamari) fondue in a broth, and finishing with a maple cream fondue served with fruit and tiny marshmallows.

6. Jeff's big ticket item was meant to be a grey blazer he had been wanting. I could not find one anywhere in Manhattan (except for one cashmere one at Men's Wearhouse, which I knew he would not want because it would not be usable in the warmer months), so I printed out a certificate and listed some stores in Montreal where we might find him one. To throw him off, I wrapped up a box of the clothes I would be wearing to dinner last night. The look on his face when he pulled out my red skirt and fuzzy sweater was priceless.

7. Before dinner last night we went ice skating at an outdoor rink.

8. My French is abysmal.

9. I bought Jeff the wrong Dr. Who calendar but he was nice about it even though I was not paying attention and should have known that of course he would not want the Dalekmania one again. I think his favorite gift was probably the Beedle book.

10. I got three puzzles. Three! And a Kenneth the page talking bobble head. And a filled pancake pan and delicious peppermint bark, and pretty earrings (made by Jenn and which I picked out without even realizing it when selecting a pair to send to a friend). And the three Dexter books and a Phillip Pullman book and other stuff that I am forgetting but not also loving. Oh, and a baking book called Baked from John & Steve plus delicious baked goodies from them.

Lift tab to open

2008-12-12T22:21:00.004-05:00

I just kind of stopped blogging there. When I realized how many weeks it had been I was half considering giving it up altogether. Clearly I'm just not into it anymore. But I don't know if I'm really ready.

I will say this, though. At Target they not only sell tamales in the frozen food section that are delicious, but they also sell the big boxes of Nerds. This is great news because the big boxes of Nerds are so hard to find.

These Nerds are red, white and green and the box says they are FROSTY. I eagerly anticipated the frostiness of the Nerds when I tore open the box. As far as I can tell, they are regular Nerds without any sort of frosting. I know a lot of candy is packaged as the holiday version of itself and is actually the exact same product, but come on, you can't call something frosty and have it not be different somehow. I am let down.

On the back of the box is a trademarked Nutritional Compass. One of the directions (south) says "Good to remember: Have some now, and save some for later." That's good nutrition!

Since I bought two boxes (due to the big boxes being so hard to find), and since I am so let down, I will probably be gifting one of them. Just FYI. It might be you. Please contain your excitement.

Four years ago today...

2008-11-13T12:38:00.006-05:00

I have written this story before, but it was on my old blog, which is now gone, so I'm writing it again, the highlights as they have remained in my brain 4 years later.

Four years ago today, I woke up on the pull-out sofa in the ante-room of my parents' hotel room, somewhat hung over from a great rehearsal dinner at this fabulous Italian restaurant in the theater district, the name of which I'm blanking on right now.

Everyone staying in the hotel gathered for brunch. I was not overly emotional until my grandma presented me with her own engagement ring that she had received in 1928. I started crying then and was on the verge of tears for the next 24 hours. In a good way, I assure you. I wear this ring every single day and I love it so much.

My bridesmaids and I went to get our hair and nails done. I had my heart set on having my hair down and curly, but the dude said that would not be advisable on a cold November day. I appreciate that it was out of my face, but I'm still a little sad that it was not down.

At Alger House (in the west village, best wedding venue ever), my mom showed us how to tie bows on the chairs and we all worked on those while her friends set up flowers around the room. A dear friend of the family showed up from Virginia, with the cake she had baked for us in her backseat. I always loved her desserts and her family, so it was a very wonderful gift and one of my favorites that we received.

The bridesmaids and I got dressed upstairs and the guests began to arrive. Lots of guests coming from NJ were stuck in tunnel traffic and missed the entire ceremony, especially because the ceremony was so short. Our minister forgot to call up my mom's oldest friend (who I call aunt) and my dad's youngest brother for the readings. We recessed to the Star Wars throne room song and went upstairs to sign the official stuff. We came back down and did the two readings plus a speech by my dad while the three of us stood on the stairs. I really liked doing it that way, actually. A lot of people assumed we'd planned it that way, which was just fine.

Our first dance was to All You Need Is Love. That was a damn difficult song to dance to, but we pulled it off. Whenever I hear it, I get a little misty-eyed. I never thought of it as an overly romantic song until we danced to it at our wedding.

Those are the main highlights. Click on the photo to see the rest of the set. Everyone looked so great and I honestly believe that everyone had a really good time, too. My mom looked gorgeous in her green dress. And all my bridesmaids looked fabulous in the black dresses of their choice. My dad and Jeff looked extra dapper in their tuxes.

Here's to four great years and to 40+ more! I love you, Ponty.

For Catie

2008-11-11T23:07:00.004-05:00

As soon as I published the last entry, I found out that my friend Catie's cat, Peter, had been hit by a car and was killed. Less than two weeks ago, another one of her cats, Roo, died of old age. I cannot even imagine what she must be going through right now. Even though I did not know these cats very well in person, I know that they meant everything to her. They were both gorgeous and full of personality and they will be very much missed by many, many people.

Elizabethan cat

2008-11-11T22:08:00.005-05:00

The problem with not blogging for a month is good lord where do you even begin again. I don't have the slightest idea where I even left off. Hold on, let me go check...

Right. So, a month later and Booie is still wearing the collar. Well, for a week or two in there, she wore a black and white striped dog shirt. But that was not ideal as the issue was that one section of her incision, under her armpit, was remaining moist and not healing up properly. The shirt was just exacerbating that problem and making it even harder for the wound to breathe.

She's worn the collar ever since. She's gotten used to it, as much as she could. At one point, after most of the stitches had been removed, a small hole in the incision re-opened and fluid continued to dribble out, which was pretty gross. The vet assured me it was what her body wanted to do, so he allowed the hole to remain open for a week and then he put some little stitches in, which somehow got pulled out within 24 hours (or possibly they just disolved too quickly), so it stayed open another week. The vet said not to worry, it was all part of the process.

Last week he put in two staples. I have high hopes of them coming out this week and the cone coming off. The cat is getting rather greasy, as I'm sure she knows. She needs a bath. And I'm tired of being head butted at 3am by the cone. And I'm no longer laughing at the sound like whisking she makes when she scratches at the plastic cone with her hind leg.

Booie has never been one to appreciate being picked up. I pretty much never picked her up, except on the rare occasion after returning from a trip when I'd grab her and give her a hug and then she'd make a pitiful noise and I'd put her down. I've had to pick her up a bunch lately and have had to negotiate an open wound which I didn't want to touch if I didn't have to (so as not to hurt her). I have developed a technique of wrapping my arms around her and then sliding one underneath her so she's standing on it. This way I don't have to put any undue pressure on her underside. Surprisingly, she has gotten used to being picked up this way and doesn't really resist.

Otherwise, it has been 6 weeks since the surgery and there are no lumps that the vet can feel at this time.

I also turned 33. Jeff took me to Baltimore for an overnight and we saw The Decemberists and they were just as good as the last time we saw them. It was a few days after the election and same as the last time we saw them, they had the audience sing "hear all the bombs fade away" over and over and I don't know why, but that just really gets me, especially this time, when we were so full of new hope.

I haven't spent any quality time in Baltimore since approximately 1994. It's quite charming, actually. There is a good beer bar there called Brewer's Art.

#58 Bruce

2008-10-18T16:31:00.000-04:00

You were a chauvinist but you treated me kindly. I think you felt a little fatherly toward me. You probably thought I was without ambition. Really I just didn't belong in PR.

#56 Brian

2008-10-13T16:12:00.000-04:00

You seemed so old when we met at my first real job. You were younger than I am now. I email you every few years. You write back excitedly once each time.

It's almost my birthday again and I didn't finish this yet. I guess I will keep going with 32 words to keep all the entries the same. Here's to finishing the list this year!

Cat spit: not prescribed

2008-10-10T16:31:00.004-04:00

Booie is the most pathetic looking creature right now. She has to wear an Elizabethan collar for a few days to allow her incision to heal without her "helping" by licking it. Her assistance was causing it to get all inflamed and irritated and the stitches were disolving sooner than they should have.

I took her to the vet last night for her 2 week check-up and the vet took out a few of the stitches, which lead to some bleeding. I'm not sure why exactly. I suppose because of her licking and not allowing the wound to heal properly.

There was a fair bit of fluid build-up underneath the skin as well. The vet stuck in a syringe and sucked it out. Two vials full. I was not grossed out at all. I was actually quite fascinated. But around that time, the room got very hot, my face got sweaty, and I really needed to sit down.

The vet said the cavity would most likely fill up with fluid again because that's what a body does if a lot of flesh is removed. I wonder how come he didn't put in a drain, although I'm sure if she had a drain, she would really have been messing with that. As long as her skin does not balloon up, he said it's fine. He can drain it again next week, if need be, when we go back again.

Thankfully, this awesome vet does not charge for the check-up visits, only for the meds. Have I mentioned how much I love Dr. Mammas and the Bayonne clinic? I love them so much.

With the collar on, she can't go under the bed or under her favorite wing chair or get in the litter box (I took off the cover). Last night, she ignored me when I said, "bedtime!" to her. She always follows me when I say that and comes for her few minutes of snuzzling up under my chin and then she curls up at the end of the bed until morning when she comes for more snuzzling right before my alarm goes off.

She sat on the couch last night, looking very dejected, and not looking at me when I called. I suppose she eventually laid down and went to sleep. She appeared on the bed at 6am wanting to snuzzle and she clocked me in the face with her collar.

My poor baby. When I saw how pathetic she looked with the collar on, I took it off, but when Jeff heard the diagnosis, he said she has to wear it. He's a strict cat dad. I hope to find a soft version at the pet store tonight so she's not so incapacitated and is able to eat with it on. She barely ate anything this morning before we put it back on her and had to leave for work.

Booie comes home

2008-09-27T19:39:00.004-04:00

Booie is so stoic. When I took off the bandage on her foot, she did not complain. The tape pulled on her skin and she let me do it with hardly any resistence. Maybe she was just glad to have it off.

Her signature mrt is gone for now and all that's left is a faint coo like a dove makes. It sounds pretty pathetic. Used to be when I would surprise her by touching her she would mrt loudly. Now, it's just a soft mrtle.

The crate did not work out. I put her in it when we got home and she howled and paced. She was still wobbly from the meds. I let her out and figured she could walk around if I could keep an eye on her. I put a step in front of our bed (which is low to begin with), that she ignored and jumped right up. She then konked out on the floor but then woke up and jumped on the couch before I could stop her.

When I headed out to Target a few hours later, I picked her sleepy self up and put her gently into the cage. She went berserk, sticking her paws out as far as she could, climbing up the sides, stretching out and pushing on the top of the crate. That was no good. So, I let her out and she ran under the bed.

I guess I can assume she won't do what hurts, although I worry that the pain meds hide the pain and she will do internal damage while she's on them. I thought she was asleep under a chair this evening and I heard a noise in the kitchen. She had jumped up on the radiator to look out the window. She loves sitting in that window, so no wonder, but I really didn't think she'd go for that yet.

She's asleep now, so it's probably time to attempt to administer the anti-inflammatory meds. It's a liquid and I have had baaaad luck giving her anything orally in the past.

When instinct is all you have

2008-09-26T23:08:00.004-04:00

It seems strange to be home and not have Booie here. She's spending the night at the vet's while she recuperates from the surgery she had this morning.

I wound up taking her to a different vet -- Dr. Mammas in Bayonne. I probably would have been fine with the vet we had in JC, despite the slight feeling we had that that office was a bit too impersonal. And it bugged me that every time I needed to get results from them, I was told to call and ask for my vet by name and then the person answering the phone would take down all my info every time and then the vet would call me back when she could. Since she's away from the phone for so much of the day, wouldn't it just be easier for her to call everyone up who needs calling, without making them call and leave messages first?

The Bayonne vet office called me today to tell me Booie's surgery had gone fine and that I could come and see her this evening if I wanted to. I couldn't leave work early enough to do that, but I do appreciate the offer. I pick her up at 11am tomorrow.

What really cinched it for me as far as knowing this vet was the right one was last weekend when I posted a message on FreeCycle about wanting to borrow a large dog crate to put my cat in while she recovers from surgery. I receive a response from a woman named Silvia who said she is the manager at the Bayonne clinic and I could borrow one they have. I wrote back and said how weird, because I was going to be in the following day for an appointment. She said it must be fate and I have to agree.

When I brought Booie in that evening Silvia chatted with me while I filled out the paperwork. And when I took Booie into the exam room, she came, too. She was hugging Booie and whispering in her ears that she was going to be fine. Silvia told the vet assistant she was taking care of this one and she held Booie while the vet examined her.

The clinic is not nearly as pristine looking as the ones in JC and Hoboken run by Dr. Tudor. It has a much homier feel to it. The door to the exam room was open the entire time we were in it and people walked through to say hi and check on things. When I came back this morning to drop her off for the surgery, two Pugs were behind the counter with the two women working there.

The best news I got was from the vet this morning. I asked him if he'd be around tomorrow to fill me in on how to take care of Booie during her recovery. I said, "For example, do I really need to keep her in the crate for 2 weeks?" He said, "What? No! One or two days at most." I said, "Because if it hurts her to jump on things, she won't do it?" He said, "Of course." Catie was right about that. Even with walnut-sized brains, they aren't THAT dumb (cats, not Catie).

And yes, it's true, they're not that dumb. The last two times I took her to the vet, I tricked her by throwing a towel over her and grabbing her that way. She really despises being picked up, so grabbing her was always a chore. Well, not so much the grabbing as the getting her into the bag without her clawing whatever is in reach (usually my belly). Couple that with the fact that for the past few years, when she realizes she's about to be put in The Bag, she pees.

This morning I was supposed to drop her off at 8:30, but at 8, as soon as she saw me walking toward her with a towel, she ran and hid under the bed for 20 minutes. I took off my work clothes since I knew the towel was a lost cause. When she did eventually come out of the bedroom and I grabbed her, I scooped her up and flipped her on her back and somehow the pee managed to shoot over my arm and onto the kitchen floor.

I can't wait to see that furball tomorrow. I hope she's not in too much pain and doesn't think I did this to her just to be cruel.

Howl

2008-09-19T15:38:00.002-04:00

The good news is that Booie's cancer appears, based on the tests the vet ran, to not have spread. The bad news is that regardless the surgery will cost 2 grand.

I called a vet in Bayonne who said they would charge around $800 and a vet in Hoboken who said they would charge around a thousand. But those are really just estimates, since they haven't seen Booie or the tests.

The vet we have seems really competent and caring and she answered all my questions last night at 6:30 pm. Yet at the same time, I felt as if she were giving a sales pitch. She explained that a team of 3 will work on the patient and they do an EKG, etc. etc.

She also said this cancer will kill her eventually, although in rare cases they are able to cure cats of cancer, if it's caught early enough. I guess she wants to prepare me for the worst so that she is not blamed when Booie dies anyway before too long.

And then she mentioned off handedly that the patient will need to be prevented from jumping on anything for 2 weeks. So, that is what I laid in bed until after 2am last night worrying about. Maybe we take apart our bed and put the mattress on the floor and keep her in the bedroom! And build a ramp up to the radiatior! So that she can look outside! Yes, it's brilliant!

No, no it's not. The best option is probably a large dog crate. Oh my god, the howling is going to be horrible. And then can we take her out for supervised rambles around the apartment? Or will she hide under the bed that we unwisely did not take apart?

There are no other rooms in our aparment that can be closed off besides the bedroom and the bathroom and the bathroom has 2 built in things to jump onto/into, so that's a no go.

Now maybe I figure out a way to put the crate on top of a table that is positioned in front of a window so that she can at least look outside. Maybe that will keep the howling down a little bit.

Freshly chopped tomato and a little lemon

2008-09-15T20:35:00.000-04:00

I'm on the Caltrain on my way back to San Francisco from San Jose, where I spent a lovely afternoon with Catie. It's a double-decker train. If I lived where there were double-decker trains, I don't think I'd ever take them for granted.

I have a new book to start (Niccolo Rising). At the beginning are several pages of characters and looking at that made starting the novel seem way too daunting right now. I feel headachy, which I think is due to treating a mild hangover with caffeine instead of water because I woke up feeling fine.

Sometimes the jostling of a train can cause my iPod volume to turn all the way up. Dave Brubeck at higest volume definitely did not help the situation.

This morning on my way to San Jose I was marveling at how I'm now friends with this wonderful person (Catie) who I haven't known well for all that long (maybe 2 years). We've known each other peripherally for at least 7 years.

It is certainly not strange to become better friends with someone, except that for 5 of those years neither of us gave the other much thought (there may even have been some slight dislike by both parties). And then circumstances changed and now I consider her a close friend. At this point, I can't imagine not having Catie in my life.

I marvel at the reverse, too. How quickly circumstances can change and bad blood can congeal. It makes me feel weary to contemplate.

I'm just thankful that my relationship with Jeff is excluded from these trials. Any ebbing and waning I'm going through is that much easier to weather with him around.

I just can't believe I gave up an opportunity to go with him to Iceland is all.

Fabulous food, fabulous friends

2008-09-14T12:01:00.000-04:00

Catie and Andy took us to such a wonderful restaurant last night. Jeff and I keep saying things like, "remember how great that food was?" and "why can't we have places like Bar Crudo at home?"

It was raw fish but not Japanese. Most everything comes on small plates, perfect for sharing with fellow fish lovers. My fave was the lobster and heirloom salad. And the extra amazing thing was that they have an extensive beer list.

The waitress was extra attentive and patient and adorable to boot. She saw me taking a photo on our way out and asked, "are you Yelping me?" Catie had mentioned that Yelp is big out here. Otherwise I would not have had any idea what she was talking about.

I told her the photos were just for me, but if I do Yelp the restaurant (I guess that's the right terminology), I'll give it a great review because it was a wonderful experience and she was great, too.

Booie update

2008-09-12T14:23:00.004-04:00

There's not much to update. On Wednesday, the vet called and gave me the report on Booie's pathology. She said it is not certain but probable that she has mammary cancer. She said it's definitely fatal and she has three to six months if we do nothing.

If it's not certain, how is it definite?

The next step was to get bloodwork and x-rays. After that glowing fatality report, I couldn't do any more work anyway, so I went home, collected Booie, and took her back to the vet.

While we waited in the exam room for the vet, Booie stopped howling if I petted her constantly. The vet and the tech took her away from me for the bloodwork and x-rays. She was howling. The receptionist suggested I take a walk for 20 minutes. This was a good idea. No way I could have sat there for 20 minutes listening to her howl.

The vet showed me the x-rays when I got back. She pointed out that she could not see any white dots, which usually indicate cancer. The x-rays would still be sent off to the radiologist for more exact results.

Yesterday I spoke to the vet about the bloodwork results. She said her bloodwork "looks good" although I'm not sure what that means. Does she not actually have cancer? Or for a dying cancer patient, her bloodwork isn't that bad? The bloodwork indicated possible lymph node cancer, the vet said.

Next steps: The vet gets a FLIV test added on to the tests that were already done. Why, I don't know. And I call her on Monday to find out what the radiologist had to say.

Booie seems absolutely fine. It doesn't seem to hurt her when I touch the lump. But she's not wild about having her belly touched in the first place, so I can't tell if she's moving away when I touch it because it's uncomfortable or because she's just ornery.

Fatty lump

2008-09-06T15:40:00.002-04:00

I am a bad cat owner. I noticed a lump under Booie's armpit maybe two months ago. There were Saturdays when we could have gone to the vet, but we would forget and go do other things. Then I realized it had grown a bit. And so this morning, first thing, we took her to the vet.

"Oh, that's not good," the vet said, as soon as she felt the lump. Probably mammary cancer, she said. But maybe a benign cyst, she added, probably because tears sprung to my eyes and I said pitifully, "Ohhhh Booie..."

The vet then whisked Booie off to a back room to biopsy the lump. We find out on Wednesday or Thursday what plagues her.

The vet also said Booie's fur looks slightly matted. I know already that letting up on the grooming is a bad sign, but I do not believe she has let up on the grooming. She said because she sees 2 dozen cats a day she knows cats. But she has never met Booie.

Super delicious

2008-08-26T17:47:00.003-04:00

Do you want to know what is super delicious? I'll tell you.

It's this for lunch:

Whip up tuna salad real quick in the morning (with not too much mayo, but the real stuff, no fat free crap) with diced scallions mixed in (I would have added relish, but I couldn't find it in the fridge).

Boil a cup and a half (a cup seemed like too little and two cups seemed like too much) of whole wheat pasta. Drain, run cold water over. Put in Tupperware container.

Go outside into your yard and snip some parsley and some chives. Cut these into tiny bits and add to the tuna salad.

While outside, pick any ripe cherry tomatoes. Be sad that there are only four today. Examine pepper plant and be tempted to pick one. But be strong! It's turning red, but it's not there yet. Patience is a virtue.

Mix herbs into salad and then spoon salad onto pasta. Place tomatoes on top.

Bring in to the office and enjoy audibly (ie, lots of saying "mmmmm!" and "your lunch sucks compared to mine!")

The big dilemma

2008-08-20T11:50:00.002-04:00

This is a dilemma that occupies too much of my brain, often when I'm walking by myself.

I fear that I'm going to be saying this too much nowadays, but, once again, "as Elizabeth Gilber wrote"... now that I'm in my early 30s, it seems like having a child soon is the prudent thing to do, mainly because now is the right time, biologically. I don't even know if this is the same thing as a biological clock. Isn't the biological clock the irrational feeling that you desperately want a baby, no matter if your life is ready?

I know, I know. My life is as ready as it absolutely needs to be. I'm happily married. We are both employed, etc. etc.

But we are so not ready!!! Maybe a few more, just to get the point across:!!!!!

But then I second guess myself and I think, well, maybe I think I'm not ready, but really that's just fear. But I'm not supposed to be afraid of the things I'm afraid of. Aside from the normal fear of pushing a slippery bag of cat food out my hoohoo (give or take a few pounds, hopefully take), I am seriously afraid of not getting enough sleep, having to get up really early after not having gotten enough sleep, falling asleep in my soup because of being overly tired, being way more cranky than I already am, due to extreme fatigue.

Aside from the sleep deprivation (a very real fear, I'm not making this up), there is the one about having to be on a strict schedule. Currently, I leave work when I feel like it. If I slack off a little bit during the day, I simply stay an extra hour. My job is not geared toward leaving work at 5 o'clock on the dot to rush home to pick up Junior at daycare. I've never had a job like that, actually. How does that even work? I guess one has to start the workday much earlier. And give up exercising in the morning, for sure. People with kids, it seems, go to the gym at lunch or take their kids with them to the gym, if they are so lucky as to belong to a gym with a daycare. That right there is depressing enough. I hate gyms.

And then there is this. I spend how many hours at home awake during the work week? Three per night, maybe? Assuming I did change my schedule so that I'm home at 6, then there are maybe 4 hours in the evening before I crash because presumably I'll be getting up before dawn in this wonderful babyful fantasy world.

Four hours per night is not a lot. And it's less than four hours spent with the kid, since the kid presumably will not go to bed at 10, although I guess you never know. Why do we want to throw our lives into chaos, just so that we can shuffle the kid off to daycare?

Of course I don't want to quit my job to have a kid. I haven't accomplished anything of note in my "career" yet, so why would I give it all up now? I say, oh well all I have to do is get a freelance gig going so that I can still work. Oh sure, easy enough. And people at work are always lobbying to get the one day a week where they work from home. As if that makes it all worthwhile! So one day a week the person is not giving work or the kid their full attention. Perfect situation!

Jeff and I don't want to give up traveling or eating out at nice restaurants. And I don't want to be the person who hasn't bought new shoes in years because all the money goes toward the kid.

So, does this all add up to our not really wanting kids??? Aren't we supposed to feel this incredible pang to give up everything we hold dear now so that we can instead hold dear a little mewling, puking, shitting infant?

I'm not listening

2008-08-15T22:27:00.004-04:00

I'm finally reading Eat, Pray, Love. You know, the book that everyone was reading last year. While many people seem to have very strong opinions on it (including some who haven't read it, ahem, you know who you are), I find it incredibly heart-warming and all those naysayers can go bleat elsewhere. There is absolutely nothing to dislike about this book, except maybe that it reminds you that you are unable to take off for a year and travel around the world. Also, it reminds me of a blog. A really well-written and funny blog.

I would have read it before, but I don't like paying full-price for books. I don't like paying full-price for anything, so it's not something I have against books. Yes, yes, I want the authors to get the money they are due, just like I want the musicians to receive the money they are due. I just don't want to be the one to pay them upwards of $20 for something I will most likely read once and then pass on to someone else. And I definitely do not feel the need to be the first one in my circle of friends to read a book. In fact, I prefer for everyone else to preview it for me. And then I'll get a cast-off copy of it and read it later, after I've heard enough people say it was worthwhile.

I am pretty certain that in no other country besides the US will you see a person carrying a canvas bag that says, "This is my plastic bag," or "I'm saving the Earth" or whatever. I want to go up to those people and give them a pat on the back and a "yay for you." Wouldn't they rather carry a bag with a pretty design?

Finally, I would like to point out that K-mart has once again introduced me to a fabulous new candy product: the dark chocolate mint Three Muskateers. It is lighter than a Peppermint Patty and less like brushing your teeth followed by eating chocolate (not that that is a bad thing, in fact, I'm all for it). The mint is more of a hint. All in all, two chocolatey thumbs up.

Also, I have taken up uttering again.

Three for Saturday

2008-08-09T12:36:00.004-04:00

I ran for 40 minutes this morning and it felt great. I didn't know if I'd make it, but I did and I didn't even feel that tired afterward. I don't remember the last time I ran for that long. Every time I start running again, I seem to level out at 30 minutes and then keep with that time until I get out of the habit of running again. Earlier in the week I went for 35 minutes and it seemed like no big deal, so I figured I would up my time again and see how it went. The only problem with running longer is that I'll have to get up earlier on the weekdays.

I'm not saying that I'm breaking any records here. My speed is only a 9.5 min. mile. It wound up being 4.2 miles.

We had cherry tomatoes from our garden with our lunch and they were so super delicious. I have been trying the Andy Anchev method of not watering the plant very much so that it produces more intensely flavorful tomatoes. It must be working because they are incredible tasting. Of course, the fact that we grew them ourselves makes them that much more delicious.

Also, the plant is about 7 feet tall. It keeps growing and growing. It is taking over the herb/veggie patch. There are some chives that I planted next to the tiny tomato plant back in May or April or whenever it was and they are completely hidden. They don't sweem to mind, however.

Peppers (sweet ones) are growing and growing, too, but they refuse to change from pale yellow. I don't know what their deal is.

We are off to Sugarloaf and to the drive-in tonight. Double feature of Step Brothers and Pineapple Express.

New drink

2008-08-07T22:04:00.004-04:00

There is a restaurant in Jersey City that advertises $4 Margheritas during happy hour. Have they invented a new drink or are they just not good at spelling?

If they haven't invented this drink, I think someone should try it. It would be made with tomato juice and basil and the alcohol would presumably be vodka. Would little mozzarella balls be overkill?

Where are all the hats?

2008-07-19T12:04:00.003-04:00

Firstly: I got my hair cut short. I cannot say enough how much I love it. Okay, it's not super short, but it's above my shoulders. It's just longer than my chin, I'd say. It curls up great and it dries super fast. The real test was taking my hair with me on a flight to Texas. Both coming and going, when I got off the plane, my hair STILL looked great. This is not usually the case for me. The dry airplane air tends to cause all the curl to fall out and my hair to go completely flat and limp. But my shorter hair can withstand the power of the plane air! Now I just need to get a tattoo on my forehead that says DON'T GROW OUT YOUR HAIR because I tend to forget these things because it is tempting to want to be able to put it into a ponytail.

As for Texas, I was not impressed. Well, all I saw was Houston. I did not see a single cowboy. Not even a 10-gallon hat or even any cowboy boots with a suit. I also did not get any good Tex-Mex.

I went to a place called Cabo near my hotel that the concierge recommended (bad choice, I know). The salsa was great and the bartender was nice (he told me his life story and I barely got a word in edgewise). But the chicken tamale was the worst I've ever had. It was dry and did not have chunks of chicken. It was like a chicken roll wrapped in a leaf. I can get a way better tamale right here in Jersey City at Taqueria. And the tortilla soup was greasy. Maybe I just ordered wrong? The Shiner Bock amber was on tap for $3.75, so I drank two of those. It was a little tasteless for an amber, though.

Houston has tunnels underneath the downtown area so that you can avoid the heat. Although when you come out and have to still walk 3 blocks to reach your destination, you get just as sweaty.

I was in Houston for a training along with another department. It made me realize how nice it would be to be part of a department that is in this country. Only so much comraderie can be created over email.

Amtrak again

2008-07-12T15:18:00.001-04:00

I'm heading back to DC on Amtrak for the second time this week. This time it's to pick up furniture from my granddad's estate.

Things that are of interest:

- the number of people who use a thin plastic sac for an overnight bag

- the number of women who wear painted-on denim shorts that don't use much more fabric than underwears

- the number of Wachovia ads in the Newark station and the complete lack of Wachovia ATMs

Quiet car

2008-07-10T11:22:00.001-04:00

Thirty seconds after getting on Amtrak's quiet car, a suit was on his cellphone. The conversation concerned a good deal on a $100 watch and the fact that his had cost much more than that.

The conductor made an announcement over the intercom that in the quiet car no cell phones or loud conversations are permitted.

The man sitting across the aisle from me leaned in my direction and said in a stage whisper, "this car is a godsend!"

As the ticket agent passed through the aisle collecting tickets, a man could be heard from the other end of the car, possibly $100 watch man. He was leaving someone a message, stating the time and requesting the person call him back.

"I hear a voice!" the ticket agent said in an upbeat manner while walking toward the voice. "Sorry," the man said. "I had my headphones on when the announcement was made."

Toronto time

2008-07-04T09:36:00.004-04:00

In the Pantages hotel where we are staying in Toronto:

-there is an incredibly long sink in the bathroom but only a tiny bit of counter space
-there is a fountain inside a tall pot of sticks
-there is an air cleaning machine
-the hallways are very dimly lit, like a club
-there are no free outlets except behind the TV

We thought the fountain would be distracting as we slept. Jeff thought it also might make him have to get up and pee a lot. But in fact, it's incredibly relaxing and we both fell asleep in record time. I thought fountains were tacky, but now I kind of want one.

Our only real plans while we are here are to eat and drink, to see Kate Musgrove, and walk around. Any specific recommendations?

ps: The Oasis restaurant has been renovated and is now tan on the outside, not that lovely blue. It was an unfortunate decision on their part.

Best for last

2008-06-24T16:09:00.006-04:00

I took a break from the albums project due to forgetfulness more than anything. Although the week before father's day, when I stayed up until 3am one weeknight creating a scrapbook to give to my dad, I plowed through plenty of albums. I am totally over Chris Isaak, I'll tell you that much. I know this will sound blasphemous to some, but I'm saying it anyway. I used to love him so, so, so much. And now, just not so much. Now he sounds whiny to me. It kind of makes me sad to have come to this realization because I remember how much I used to savor him. And it also makes me sad because I shelled out so much dough on his albums. Oh well. More room on my iPod for new stuff.

Here are some things that are delicious that I did not previously eat:

- 3 blueberries speared on a fork and swept through a little Cool Whip
- Laughing Cow cheese spread on Wasa crackers (okay, calling that delicious is going a little far, but it's not as bad as I would have thought, by any means)
- carrot sticks. Yes, I had eaten carrot sticks before, but not very often and I kept forgetting how good they are. I need to specify that baby carrots are gross. I'm talking about big carrots cut into smaller pieces or even just one big carrot, gnawed on, bunny-style. (That sounds dirty.)
- turkey pastrami

This is by no means the least important thing I have to tell you. I don't know why I saved it for last. This morning we discovered cat pee coming through our ceiling from the condo above us. How fun is that? Not very fun at all! Booie was howling and she tracked it around before we realized what was going on. Then we thought she had made the puddle we saw on the floor. And then Jeff spotted yellow droplets way up by the ceiling on the heating pipes. I am just thankful that a) Booie didn't do it and b) that Booie does not have another UTI and c) if repairs need to be made, we will not be responsible for paying for them. Otherwise, I am enjoying telling people about this and seeing their reaction. And I'm not going to worry at this time about what our apartment may smell like come winter if it is not properly cleaned up. There is very likely cat pee inside our walls.

Entertaining

2008-06-10T23:57:00.006-04:00

I just remembered that I have to be on a conference call at 9:30 tomorrow morning and I usually roll in at 9:45. I was planning to run before work, but that will mean getting up extra early and it's already midnight. Crap. What to do. Even if I go to bed right now, I will only get 6 hours of sleep.

Jen came over after work tonight. She finally saw our place. She said she's realizing Jersey City has its charms. I'm glad she's finally noticing. That's what happens when you work in the financial district. You don't see the charm.

On Monday a coworker asked me what I had done over the weekend. I said we'd gotten brunch. He said, "Really? In Jersey City?"

I said, "yes, why?"

He said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I didn't realize there were places to get brunch in Jersey City." I did, in fact, take it the wrong way. What a jerky thing to say. I said, "at least my town is diverse, unlike the upper west side." He said there is a project near him, but that's not the same. My whole town is mixed.

Anyway, Jen and I picked up pho from Nha Trang (the authentic place, not the fancy one). While we waited for our food, we went into the Thai/Vietnamese grocery store next door and picked up things we don't need, such as a can of mock duck and a can of mock popk. This has to be mock pork, but who knows? It was only $1.40. It was spelled that way in two places on the can.

We tried one of the drinks on my Mr. Boston list: the Amaretto Rose. The recipe called for 1.5 oz of Amaretto, 1/2 oz. of Rose's lime and ice and seltzer to the top of a Collins glass. We determined that much less seltzer and way more Amaretto make a much better drink.

Status of the albums project:
All of this and nothing (The Psychadelic Furs)
All that you can't leave behind (U2)
Alligator (The National)
Always got tonight (Chris Isaak)
Armchair Apocrypha (Andrew Bird)
B-sides 1980-1990 (U2)

I'm already feeling like I've had enough U2 for a while.

How long will this take?

2008-06-08T19:19:00.005-04:00

I'm taking a cue from my friend Step and listening to all of my albums in alphabetical order. I have 11.7 days of songs. How long will this take? Whose albums will I have the hardest time getting through?

First up was Accelerate by R.E.M. Oddly, Jeff just burned that one for me today. Now I'm onto Achtung Baby (U2, obviously).

I have the headphones plugged into my laptop because for some annoying reason, the volume doesn't go very high on here. My computer plays a loud tone if I accidentally hit two keys at once. And let me tell you, that tone in my ears is very alarming indeed. (I have tried and tried to turn off this tone but to no avail.)

------

Yesterday we went to two BBQs. It was in the mid-90s, but we rallied. We drove to Red Hook, Brooklyn, for the first one and we got there in 20 mins. I am not going to question the lack of traffic in the tunnels (Holland and Battery). But I will thank the gods for it.

A guy from my year of college was there. He walked right up to me and said something like, "Hi! How are you!" I don't know if he recognized me right away or had been prompted to expect me there or thought I was someone else. I definitely recognized him and when I heard the hosts saying his name before he arrived it sounded familiar, but it didn't click. It had been 11 years after all. The first time he and I met was also at a BBQ, the summer before freshman year started, for people from the DC area.

The photos pretty much sum up the fun time we had.

The 2nd BBQ was in suburban NJ at Jenn and Geoff's. We were a little late to that one, or one might say we were right on time, since as soon as we walked in the yard, various grilled items were being served up.

Today we laid low in front of the a/c. Despite the fabulous blowing power of our a/c, it's still quite hot in here. That does not stop Booie from lying lengthwise right next to my leg, however.

I want tasty drinks

2008-06-07T13:18:00.002-04:00

I spent an hour this morning going through Mr. Boston. I made a list of every drink that can be made using ingredients we already have (not including fresh lemons and limes, which can be purchased for cheap at any time).

Sadly, we have no Bourbon, so I can't make mint juleps. But I might need to break down and buy some, since I have the appropriate pewter glassware and everything and have never once put them to use.

I hate gin and whiskey and drinks with egg sound gross, although I'm sure I've had them and enjoyed them (fizzes), but I still don't want to be bothered to whip or separate any eggs at cocktail time, so those are all out.

I'm now confused by Kirshwasser vs. cherry-flavored Brandy. My little bottle of Kirshwasser says it is cherry-flavored Brandy, but different recipes in the book call for one or the other and one even calls for both. I think I will ignore this information and pretend like they are the same thing.

I'm also confused by a note in the back of the book saying Cointreau - a triple sec (see below) and it's at the bottom of the page. The next page doesn't mention triple sec and I don't see a separate section on it later in the book. What's the deal here?? My bottle of Cointrea doesn't say it's triple sec and my bottle of (cheap) triple sec doesn't say anything about being imitation Cointreau. They do smell similar, but it was too early in the day when I examined them to do an actual taste test.

I didn't see a single recipe for a drink calling for Grand Marnier. What's that all about? I keep it on hand for rum cakes, but it would be nice to enjoy it in a glass once in a while.

Same with the Kirshwasser/cherry-flavored Brandy (purchased for making cheese fondue). But I did find some good recipes calling for it. One is a Cherie: juice of one lime, 1/2 oz. triple sec, 1 oz. light rum, 1/2 oz. cherry-flavored Brandy. Shake with ice and strain into cocktail glass.

We also have numerous bottles of Curacao (one large, several petite). There is a drink called a Marmalade which is just Curacao and tonic.

Others I look forward to trying: Fireman's Sour (lime, sugar, Grenadine, light rum), Polynesian cocktail (vodka, cherry-flavored Brandy, lime), and a Hot Buttered Rum, which I've never had. That will have to wait a few months though.

No recipes called for either strawberry or watermelon vodka. I have got to get rid of those two bottles some day. Much of what Jeff brings home from work in the way of alcohol is plenty useful and delicious, but those two not so much. And I'm not going to drink them just to drink them. I want tasty drinks.

Thank you, universe

2008-06-05T19:00:00.004-04:00

I sent the universe a jumbled message about needing help figuring out my so-called career path, and the universe sent me an email from someone I know, offering career coaching services.

I had the second meeting with my coach today. It's only for a half hour, so it flies by. I think I wasted perhaps the first 10 minutes at least telling her about a victory I had at work this week, but it was something I was proud of, so I wanted to share. And she seemed genuinely interested and she said it gave her some insight into how I handle situations. So, perhaps it was not a complete waste.

I had some action steps from our first meeting, which I had worked on, but had not completed to the best of my ability. And now I have two more steps to work on for our meeting next week. She is holding me accountable for things that I should be doing anyway.

But really, some of the things I have decided to work on were things that I wasn't sure are valid goals. Once she assured me they were and suggested I get working on them, the goals seemed much more possible to achieve.

I'm not making any major decisions here. I may not be actually making any changes at all, outwardly that is. But this coaching is a great exercise. I give it my stamp of approval.

Shoulda kept my mouth shut

2008-06-04T22:51:00.002-04:00

Second time today that I probably should have kept my mouth shut. Really should have kept it shut this time, though.

We were walking home after dinner and passed a young woman leaning against a car. She seemed very annoyed, banging her umbrella against the car while she leaned on it or pulling the handle of the umbrella in and out.

Shortly after we passed her I realized I'd left my umbrella at the restaurant, so we turned around and went back.

When we passed by the same way again, the young woman was still leaning against the car, banging her umbrella against it. It seemed like the kind of thing someone would do if they were upset, so I opened my big mouth and said, "are you okay?" She mumbled something and I tried to explain that I wanted to make sure she wasn't stranded or something but all that I managed to say was that since we'd walked by twice and she was still there I was worried.

She mumbled something else and looked the other way, so we kept going. Jeff then told me that what he heard her say was, "It's my car. I'm allowed to be here."

Dude! It was dark. I thought she looked young, maybe not even old enough to drive. She could have been stranded and forgotten her phone. She could have lost her car keys and forgotten her phone. Who knows!

I was only offering to help, although really what could I have done? Nothing probably. I shoulda kept my mouth shut and minded my own business.

Littering is still littering

2008-06-04T13:06:00.003-04:00

As Jeff and I walked down Newark Ave., we passed a man who was tossing a paper coffee cup into the street. "That's not cool!!" I said to Jeff. Jeff, knowing me a little too well, warned, "okay, don't start anything..."

But I was too enraged. "Hey, that's not the trashcan!" I called out to him, just as he was entering a store.

He looked back in surprise. "Well... uh..." he stammered. "It wasn't my cup! These people! They leave their trash in front of my store!"

I immediately backed down and said, "Sorry! Sorry! I thought it was yours."

If only I'd had 10 more seconds to collect my thoughts, though, because no, he was not at all justified, even if Newark Ave. does seem to be a trash magnet and it must be frustrating having a business there. I should have replied, "As unpleasant as it may be, when I find litter in front of my building, I pick it up and put it in the TRASH, not in the street."

Instead I ranted at poor Jeff the whole rest of our walk. "Hey wait," I said to him. "Why did you tell me not to start anything? Do I embarrass you?" He said that no, he was afraid I might get into a confrontation I didn't want to be in. I do admit that I felt a little more ballsy about yelling at a man with Jeff by my side.

(Business starts with a B and is between Coles and Jersey.)

Remembering with food

2008-05-28T11:13:00.008-04:00

A sizable little crowd came over on Memorial Day, including four kids and a dog. The following items were grilled: hotdogs, veggie dogs of various flavors, Bratwursts, veggie patties of various flavors, turkey burger sliders and hamburger sliders, corn on the cob, onion slices, sauerkraut (on a piece of tin foil).

I decided to do sliders because the problem at BBQs is often that I want to try different things, but one burger fills me all the way up. My dad advised cooking them over a high flame (not that we are skilled enough in the grilling arts to control the flame or the height thereof), but I attempted to follow his advice.

My mom advised adding to the turkey burgers: mayo, finely chopped onion, and herbs. I added oregano and parsley flakes. She warned me that turkey burgers are bland, but I have to say that with her additions, they were delicious. Cheddar cheese and mustard help, too.

Our guests seemed impressed by the fact that I had made the burgers "by hand," ie, not bought the pre-formed disks. My dad makes the best burgers, hands down, and he makes them by hand, so I feel that is the only way to go if you're serious about burgers. To the hamburgers, he adds Worsestershire (or however you spell it), lemon juice, salt and pepper. I forgot the lemon juice this time, but it is a good thing to add.

We were a wee bit pressed for time before this party, as we often are before our parties, so some things got left by the wayside that we should have done, such as cutting up a pineapple and cutting the grass. I hope no one got any ticks or anything.

Treasures

2008-05-23T10:37:00.008-04:00

This past weekend we were in Alexandria visiting my parents. I know my mom wants me to go through the junk (I mean, treasures) that fills the dresser in my old bedroom. One whole drawer is mostly photos and most of those are crap. Any of the decent or funny ones I have scanned into flickr already. But what do I do with the originals? They are all stored in the photo store envelopes or boxes. (Ritz was giving out boxes for a while. Do they still do that?)

I can't believe it never occured to me to scan some of my earliest diary pages. According to some people, the old entries are clearly written by me, but I'm pretty sure they sound like the rantings of any annoying kid.

I also found my mother's old Konica. I have no recollection of her giving it to me, but somehow it wound up in that drawer. Sadly, a battery was left in it and it corroded. I picked up a new one, but the meter only jumps a tiny bit. I did read something online about how it takes a 1.4v battery, not a 1.5v, except that 1.4 is not readily available at Radio Shack after all. I was hoping 1.5v would make do. So now I don't know if it's just the wrong battery or if the corrosion affected it.

Both my parents instilled in me a (debatably) great habit of meticulously saving all manuals. Sure enough, the manual on the Konica was in another drawer in the same dresser. Unfortunately, it is totally unhelpful. It goes into great detail on how to use the camera on the automatic setting, but doesn't explain at all how to use the manual settings. And it's kind of hard to mess with it when the light meter isn't working properly.

What then?

2008-05-11T12:10:00.003-04:00

You know it's a low point when you come out of a great, funny movie (Forgetting Sarah Marshall) and you immediately are filled with dread.

You know it's a low point when you read most of the 81 comments about regrets and although they are fascinating, you have to stop reading them because they are too damn depressing.

Why have I sat on the couch since the moment I woke up this morning and now it's afternoon?

It's a beautiful day outside and I could/should go for a walk, but it's easier to stay here on the couch.

It's not so much the regrets about the past as about my inability to make a change now. (Or is it unwillingness? Or maybe fear?)

What got this whole meladrama ball rolling was hearing a speaker at work talking about how a successful person has a 5-year plan. And a successful person has a dream job in mind that she strives for in everything she does. And a succesful person is not me.

Pretty pink and black

2008-05-08T11:16:00.003-04:00

I failed to mention in my post about packing another essential I took with me to Europe: a reversible cloth bag made by my friend Mim. She has a few on sale right now, too.

I am tempted to buy more, especially because when I go grocery shopping, I am still usually a few cloth bags short of being able to use zero plastic bags. I have the one Mim made me plus two Jeff got for free at work.

The ones sold at A&P are only a dollar, but they are so ugly. I suppose I could use them just for groceries, but to be ugly they need to also be free.

I have noticed lately that a lot more people are bringing their own bags or using the ones sold at the grocery store. I wonder what caused this shift to finally happen? I admit that I am a bit late to the game. Before, I always used sturdy paper bags (the ones with string handles) to carry more than would fit in my purse. But those are no good in the rain. And they are not classy. And they don't hold that much.

Frankly I'm shocked at my former self for not realizing that I could skip getting a bag entirely when shopping if only I had a cloth one with me. It still seems a little strange to be buying clothing, especially, and say I don't need a bag because I have my own. Considering the change at the grocery store, though, I bet it won't take long for more people to start carrying their own sacs where ever they go.

I sure am glad I had my pretty black with pink polka dots one in Europe. (It reverses to black and white check, which is good for when I make Jeff carry it.) No stores offered bags. If I wanted one, I had to ask. And at one grocery store I noticed each plastic bag cost 5 eurocents.

Seems disgusting

2008-05-07T13:42:00.003-04:00

I amaze myself multiple times per week by how disgusting my lunch looks. And then I gobble it up, thinking the whole time, Oh my god, this is delicious. One of the more amazing aspects to this salad is the fact that I like it all mixed up. And I was one of those kids who refused to let each food item touch the other food items on my plate.

The contents of my delicious salad from the company cafeteria where I can select my own ingredients and pay by weight, not by some arcane system of number of ingredients:

-no lettuce, seeing as how I'm in the Beth school of lettuce-free salads. It's extraneous. (Note: I will gladly eat lettuce on any occasion and I often have it at home because Jeff is not in this club and I don't dislike it. I just find it to be extraneous.)
-turkey cubes
-tofu cubes
-edamame (a LOT)
-avocado (one quarter, if they have it, which they don't always)
-quinoa
-bulgar wheat
-tomato
-cucumber
-corn
-blue cheese
-sunflower seeds
-green beans
-egg white (just a little)
-one scoop of Italian dressing
-one small scoop of a composed pasta salad, if they have it and it's one I like (tuna and pasta: yes. anything with olives: NO).

Before consumption, the salad has to be thoroughly stirred and all the large pieces (cucumbers, tomotoes) have to be cut into smaller pieces. This is because when I eat it, as many different kinds of things need to be in each bite as possible. This ensures maximum satisfaction.

One thing: I feel a little strange about eating the edamame along with the tofu (although this feeling is not stopping me). It seems as if different types of the same thing are weird to eat together. Like, chicken with egg on it? That just seems creepy.

#57 Bruce

2008-05-06T19:28:00.001-04:00

Because of your warmth we felt confident in choosing to become Unitarian Universalists, despite the broccoli god bit. You married us, forgetting the reading and the song. You sweat an awful lot.

Perfect vs. Pointless (packing)

2008-05-02T14:34:00.005-04:00

Perfect: taking 2 pairs of my super comfy Eddie Bauer pants on our trip
Pointless: taking my new pair of black capris, which I was pretty sure it would not be warm enough for, but which I was eager to wear and did not wear once

Perfect: taking my new Privos, despite their only being a week old (they remained super comfy, with or without socks, until the very last day, at which time my right foot got sore underneath one of the straps, but no blisters ever appeared)
Pointless: taking my dressier kitten heels for wearing out at night (I wore them the first night and on those cobblestones I about killed myself)

Perfect: taking my brand new 6 million dollar home Crumpler bag to use as a purse and a camera bag
Pointless: taking a little purse to use when going out at night (well, it was perfect for keeping all of my various cords and chargers in, anyway

Perfect: taking a small notebook for writing what we eat, drink, and see, and also taking a glue stick for pasting in ticket stubs, etc.
Pointless: hauling the dead weight of a 2-year-old and already outdated guidebook on Germany and Austria when we were going to only be in one or two cities in one area of Germany. I'm over guidebooks. From now on, I do internet research, print stuff out, write stuff down. There's so much in those books that I don't need! When is someone going to put out a guidebook version that has no accomodations listed? I don't need this, ever. We always book our hotels before we go. I'm sure we're not the only ones.