Hey Friends. It's Thursday. That means a full day in the lab. A full day of frustration. Dlc and I were working up fish together. For the past thousand months I've been trying to get some stupid protocol to work.
There's lots I would like to say about this, but being a proper blogger and hoping to remain a grad student at this point in time, I can't. Let's just say it involves "your research, not my problem" and "all up in my grill".
In other news, I'm getting prepped for a big drive over to New Orleans to see ANI! My friends LJ and his girlfriend are joining me and we're going to leave Friday night and drive over night so that we can get to New Orleans very early so that we can be FIRST IN LINE!!! WOOOOOH. For anyone who is keeping track, this will be my 10th concert. I've seen Ani in 4 states and 2 countries. I'm getting to the point (I hate to admit it) that it's not as exciting as it was the first 9 times... Don't get me wrong, I'm still like #1 fan, but it's starting to be less like a New Kids on the Block concert and more like a grown-up concert or something else that boring people would go to and act politely and sit quietly. Or maybe it is just that I am getting old.
I'm getting old folks. Just tonight, I was trying to parse out "What it is about this 'music' that these kids today like so much? I mean it's not even PROPER music". Oh no! But really, have you heard this crap? I think it's because they're cutting all the music and arts programs in school so of course the kids don't know any better. Sigh. If only they could appreciate Ani and classical guitar like I do. Cut the Jazz, that's fine. I hate jazz, but push the folk and classical. There, wouldn't the world be so much better if I got to make all the rules?
But I digress: So I cleaned out my car tonight. Or, I removed the garbage from my car. There's still a fine layer of pearl-ite from a plant I spilled in the car last June and a less fine layer of sand from my trips to the beach and pennies and sludge that I think is the result of some sort of irreversible chemical reaction that is the result of mixing Gu and coffee. I think I'll TRY to get to a gas station with some quarters and then put the quarters in the vacuum machine and then use the vacuum machine to suck up some of that crap. That's unlikely though, I mean, with that many steps it's almost bound to fail--if there's a 5% failure rate for any sort of thing you try to do, the more steps you add the more likely it is to fail. Right? I paid attention in stats. I know what is up. I should just give up before I start.
Well, here's to my road trip! Hope it goes smoothly and that neither LJ nor his girlfriend are allergic to any of the crap in my car.
Confidential to Ani ( know you're reading this): See you Saturday!
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Pimpin' all over the world
In honor of the birth of Einstein a tiny pony and to continue the series of Poems by Anna I present:The story of Ludacris and the Pimping Pony
or
Bingo the Pony: A Life in Epic Limerick:
Possibly Cute, Probably Dopey
There once was a pony named Bingo,
Believed that he was the king-(o)-
Embarked on a boat,
Missing a coat,
But ready for the best ever fling (o).
Went pimpin’ all over the world (o)
With his mane beautifully ribbon’d and curl’d (o)
Picked up a young mare
(Babe, come into my lair…)
Next morning he woke up and hurled (o)
Haiku Interlude
I wish you were watch-
Ing this movie with me, we’re low
On snarky comments.
The boat trip back home was not great (o)
The pony was sitting with freight (o)
He’ll never leave home,
No more will he roam
Stud-horse was just not his fate (o)
Couplet Epilogue
How much happier Pony would be,
Shoulda stayed home with Lifetime TV.
Written in pen the first time, no mistakes, with Kat in mind.
There will be a second edition, hardbound with illustrations.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Camping
Hey! The camping trip was awesome! The kids went snorkeling in the morning. Like all of our trips, the weather wasn't exactly cooperating. The wind was really whipping and by the time we got out to the reef there were waves breaking over the bow of the catamaran and it looked like a surfboard was more suitable gear than fins and snorkels. The girls, true to form, took it in stride and got in the water just the same. The younger ones came back in after about 15 minutes and passed out on the deck for a mid-morning nap while the older ones stayed out a bit longer but all of them came back bloody in one way or another. Nosebleeds, run-ins with corals and so on. They were all afflicted with sea sickness, but only one of them actually vomited over the side before returning to her nap. I didn't hear a single complaint. Those kids are THE BEST.After we got off the boat we headed to the campsite and set up tents, made some trail mix (which, according to them includes: fruit loops, marshmellows, m&m's and peanuts. They pooh-pooh'd the fruit bits and only put a splash of peanuts in for texture.) and hit the beach again. We had a campfire and hit the sack around hiker midnight (9pm).
They were up bright and early in the morning, made some pancakes/frisbees and were cleaned up, packed and ready to get out of dodge by 10. Again, Best kids Ever. I've taught them well, if I may say so myself.
Now I can relax and breathe a bit before we get into the end of year craziness with badges and four star troop paperwork and parties....
Friday, April 23, 2010
Right up to here:
Right up to my damn eyeballs. That's where I'm at right now. I won't be un-up-my-eyeballs until Sunday afternoon after I get home from camping with my kiddos. On the docket now
1. Get to school by 7:30 so that I can pull out microscopes and find straws (which I think all disappeared because MyTeacher doesn't keep anything safe and lets the kids just walk around and get their damn sticky fingers all over everything. No boundaries, no boundaries...). Make bromophenol blue solution and then proceed to hope that the lab actually Works.
2. Get to Lab, talk about My Future with dlc. I passed my quals (I was never worried I wouldn't so big freeeeeking deal) so now there's some idea that I need to, you know, get on with it.
3. Move a thousand fish (or 100) from one tank to the next, drain entire 1,000 gallon system.
4. Shop for camping food for 15 people. Anyone got a good chicken kabob marinade recipe?
5. Brownie meeting.
6. Get up at the CRACK of dawn tomorrow and go snorkelling follow with camping.
aaaaaaahhhhhhh! can't wait till its over. can't wait till it's over. See you all on the other side, if I make it through.
1. Get to school by 7:30 so that I can pull out microscopes and find straws (which I think all disappeared because MyTeacher doesn't keep anything safe and lets the kids just walk around and get their damn sticky fingers all over everything. No boundaries, no boundaries...). Make bromophenol blue solution and then proceed to hope that the lab actually Works.
2. Get to Lab, talk about My Future with dlc. I passed my quals (I was never worried I wouldn't so big freeeeeking deal) so now there's some idea that I need to, you know, get on with it.
3. Move a thousand fish (or 100) from one tank to the next, drain entire 1,000 gallon system.
4. Shop for camping food for 15 people. Anyone got a good chicken kabob marinade recipe?
5. Brownie meeting.
6. Get up at the CRACK of dawn tomorrow and go snorkelling follow with camping.
aaaaaaahhhhhhh! can't wait till its over. can't wait till it's over. See you all on the other side, if I make it through.
It Rhymes So It Must Be True
Anna used to write me poems....waaaaaay back in the day she would whip them out for me like nobody's business, no big deal. She doesn't write them for me anymore but they're still pretty funny. Here's an oldie but goodie, inspired by Don Quixote who says "I think it therefore it must be true" a motto by which I live my life...also partly inspired by a certain amount of resentment on Anna's part of my relentless "opinion giving" regarding her school at the time--St. Johns and my perceived superiority for going to a place like...The University of Idaho. Guess it just goes to show that you never really know anything, do you now?
It Rhymes So It Must Be True
I like St. John’s better than Idaho
Because I’m here and not there.
Since the things that I think I thus know
You can try, prove me wrong, if you dare.
So maybe we’re light on hard science!
So maybe I’ve not seen a whale!
I think we can remain in alliance
Against things like wine that’s gone stale.
We both love Ani Difranco.
We hypothetically both get straight A’s.
If I go to a baseball game, you’ll go
And we can recap the plays for ten days.
I wish you would just leave my books alone
And stop making fun of my “grades”
You’ve made your position well known
And I see just how certain you are
That the world probably moves ‘round an axis
Drawn through Genesee, and then through you
With a fish pinned beneath paper stackses
Of modern research, both factual and true.
So I think I’ll just keep enjoying
The classics (that means they’re not new)
And occasionally write you a po-em
Asserting my own certain view!
The End.
It Rhymes So It Must Be True
I like St. John’s better than Idaho
Because I’m here and not there.
Since the things that I think I thus know
You can try, prove me wrong, if you dare.
So maybe we’re light on hard science!
So maybe I’ve not seen a whale!
I think we can remain in alliance
Against things like wine that’s gone stale.
We both love Ani Difranco.
We hypothetically both get straight A’s.
If I go to a baseball game, you’ll go
And we can recap the plays for ten days.
I wish you would just leave my books alone
And stop making fun of my “grades”
You’ve made your position well known
And I see just how certain you are
That the world probably moves ‘round an axis
Drawn through Genesee, and then through you
With a fish pinned beneath paper stackses
Of modern research, both factual and true.
So I think I’ll just keep enjoying
The classics (that means they’re not new)
And occasionally write you a po-em
Asserting my own certain view!
The End.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Formspring
Ummm I just checked the formspring page.
There were an OVERWHELMING number of semi-frantic requests for me to change my blog back to the Moving Targets format. See, this is the beauty of running my own blog: I get to do whatever the heck I want with it. I will change it however I like and whenever I like.
There were an OVERWHELMING number of semi-frantic requests for me to change my blog back to the Moving Targets format. See, this is the beauty of running my own blog: I get to do whatever the heck I want with it. I will change it however I like and whenever I like.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Year Without Baseball/Moving Targets/Out of Range
This blog is turning 2 years old in a week. What should we get it? Hummm...I'm thinking hard about this one. Maybe a pinata? Make sure you log in on the 27th to see my big anniversary post.
In other news...the Eaglet Express is building up some steam. For those of you who don't know...the Eaglet Express is what I'm calling my Girl Scout 100th Anniversary project. It's a coordinated Thru Hike/Relay of the Appalachian Trail. I'm going to hike the whole thing and meet up with Troops/groups of alumni along the way. My girls are going to start out from Springer Mountain carrying a small Golden Eaglet which will be passed the entire length of the trail, being carried by Girl Scouts the entire time.
You can join the facebook group.
Tigger/Larisa from Stalbans emailed me today to tell me how excited she is about the project. At first, she was thinking that there should be a west coast centenary hike of the Pacific Crest Trail. We talked for a bit before she decided that that would be out of control (the PCT is almost 2700 miles--even more challenging to fit into a decent length season than the AT). Instead, she's going to be my 2nd and help with all the coordinating and plans. We've got some GREAT ideas and I'm so excited to be working on this project. Stay tuned! We've got a blog, but it's not quite up yet. I'll let you know when that portion of the project goes live.
Yeahh!!!
In other news...the Eaglet Express is building up some steam. For those of you who don't know...the Eaglet Express is what I'm calling my Girl Scout 100th Anniversary project. It's a coordinated Thru Hike/Relay of the Appalachian Trail. I'm going to hike the whole thing and meet up with Troops/groups of alumni along the way. My girls are going to start out from Springer Mountain carrying a small Golden Eaglet which will be passed the entire length of the trail, being carried by Girl Scouts the entire time.
You can join the facebook group.
Tigger/Larisa from Stalbans emailed me today to tell me how excited she is about the project. At first, she was thinking that there should be a west coast centenary hike of the Pacific Crest Trail. We talked for a bit before she decided that that would be out of control (the PCT is almost 2700 miles--even more challenging to fit into a decent length season than the AT). Instead, she's going to be my 2nd and help with all the coordinating and plans. We've got some GREAT ideas and I'm so excited to be working on this project. Stay tuned! We've got a blog, but it's not quite up yet. I'll let you know when that portion of the project goes live.
Yeahh!!!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Iowa, Pride and Step Aerobics
Veronique and I went to the moderately large Miami Pride on Saturday afternoon. I was already tired by the time I got there because I'd spent all morning at the beach picking up garbage with my girls and hollering at my girls to Stay-closer-pick-up-garbage-stop-climbing-the-trees-put-the-spine-down followed by an epic game of kick the can and parked a thousand miles away from the actual party. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but it was at least 859 miles away as experienced by my tired feet. It took me nearly 2 hours to walk around and meet up with Veronique.
We walked down to the park on the land side of the dunes where the party takes place. Somehow I've never been to an actual pride parade and I always miss the one in Miami because the organizers don't recognize that I have a standing commitment to take my girls to Baynanza every year. Veronique says that we should organize a Gay-Nanza to take place before the parade so that those of us who have to spend the morning picking up garbage won't miss the festivities. I think it's a good idea. Anyway, so I can't comment on the parade but I can say that the after party is kind of lame. At least around 4pm it's lame. There are a bunch of booths set up that are offering things like free-porn catalogs or an opportunity to sign up for email lists. Somehow these boring booths combined with $6 beers and $8 mixed drinks are a large enough pull to get a few thousand people to pack into the little sandy space between 14th and 13th street. And to take off their pants and shirts. Maybe it's the excitement from the parade that carries them over into the boring expo and keeps them hoping that something exciting will happen again. Whatever it is, I wasn't feeling it.
I was enjoying the preponderance of Lady Gaga that was being blasted from every available speaker. We were lucky enough to catch a dance troupe of women in bikinis acting out the hot moves from Lady Gaga's videos. I think they were called the Mmmgagas, but I could be wrong because a drunk guy told me that. Maybe he was just slurring.
We walked around the expo for a while and ran into a few people we knew.
"Oooh! Hi! What are you doing here?" Us.
"Oh, you know...walking around." Them.
"Us too! Isn't it crazy that we saw each other here?" Us.
"Yeah, Totally" Them.
Then we stare at eachother for a moment before,
"Uh, well okay see you later" All together.
My big adventure of the day was the public bathroom on 14th street. I think somehow the lady in the stall next to me was so drunk that she peed on my foot. I don't want to talk about that though, really. Veronique found a boa on the ground and wore it around for a few minutes before she decided that Drag Queen wasn't the right look for her and left it draped across a newspaper box.
We went and ate some tacos and bought Laura a keychain. Veronique told me that I had to because Laura was feeling bad about being left home alone. Laura over extended herself on her bike ride that morning. When I came home from the beach clean up she was passed out on the bed in her bike-outfit, twitching a little. She wanted to come to pride but couldn't get off the couch. She's fine now. Veronique knows a little bit about biking because she has ridden across the whole state of Iowa. We were trying to figure out if anyone actually cares about Iowa and my long time readers will note that Iowa and I have a longstanding love-hate relationship (see Hamburg). We decided that no one actually cares about Iowa because no one writes songs about Iowa. Except Ani and Dar, but I wouldn't say they're widely known as Iowa-Songwriters.
Here's the lyrics to the Iowasong by Ani.
"4th of july" by Ani DiFranco
you gotta have the right tools
for every job
so i invite myself in
through a hole in the fence
i am tripping through the junkyard
scanning over the piles
the thin cats raise their skin in defense
i know he's watching me
i can see him through the cracks
his eyes are small and shy on my back
he says his name is jason
he lives in the last trailer on the right
and he'll be seven
on the fourth of july
only the people who live here
know the name of this place
my path through iowa would be
hard to trace
all the adults in this town
try not to frown
when i walk by
but jason smiled at me
he met my eye
he don't ask me
where i'm from
or why i came
here alone
we all go looking for paradise
then we go back home
we cut out the small talk
go right to the way things are
he showed me his squirrel skull
i told him i locked myself out of my car
so there goes the only friend
i have in iowa
his hand flapping behind him
waving good-bye
his name is jason
he lives in the last trailer on the right
and he'll be seven
on the fourth of july
Ani DiFranco Lyrics brought to you by danah boyd since 1995
I really like the "We all go looking for paradise and then we go back home" line. This song is off Puddle Dive which came out in 1993. This song was probably written somewhere between 1991-1992 and I'm assuming that 1. The story is true and 2. the events took place close to the time the song was written. Based on those assumptions and these complex calculations "2010 - (Possible Year of Story - 7) = Age of Jason" I've concluded that he is turning either 25 or 26 this year on 4th of July. If he exists, he's approximately the same age as me. I have often wondered what happened to Jason, who lives in the last trailer on the right. Does he know that he is prominently featured in an Ani song about acceptance and innocence?
I'm sure Ani reads this blog. If you would be so kind Ani, please let me know which town in Iowa you were passing through and what year and then I'm sure it would be relatively easy to track Jason down. I'll interview him, get back to you, and then you can write the 20-years-later- update-on-Jason song. That would be neat
BUT I DIGRESS.
Sunday morning I went to Step Aerobics, as I am wont to do. It was the hardest step aerobics class I've ever been to. Not because it was actually hard but mostly because it was boring (you should hear the stupid music that Ms. Tuesday.Thursday.Sunday plays), I was exhausted and I had the misfortune of standing behind Mr. Shortshorts.
The rigors of my day Saturday had left me completely exhausted and every squat ticktock and jump shot was an exercise in pure willpower. This was compounded by the fact that one should NEVER do step aerobics in short shorts. There are a lot of lunges and squats and stuff, you know? I will spare my poor readers from a more detailed description..but lets just say it is super hard to do step aerobics with your eyes closed, which I was forced to do. Luckily Mr. Shortshorts left half way through. Maybe he felt a breeze?
That's all for today, hope you stuck it through to the end.
We walked down to the park on the land side of the dunes where the party takes place. Somehow I've never been to an actual pride parade and I always miss the one in Miami because the organizers don't recognize that I have a standing commitment to take my girls to Baynanza every year. Veronique says that we should organize a Gay-Nanza to take place before the parade so that those of us who have to spend the morning picking up garbage won't miss the festivities. I think it's a good idea. Anyway, so I can't comment on the parade but I can say that the after party is kind of lame. At least around 4pm it's lame. There are a bunch of booths set up that are offering things like free-porn catalogs or an opportunity to sign up for email lists. Somehow these boring booths combined with $6 beers and $8 mixed drinks are a large enough pull to get a few thousand people to pack into the little sandy space between 14th and 13th street. And to take off their pants and shirts. Maybe it's the excitement from the parade that carries them over into the boring expo and keeps them hoping that something exciting will happen again. Whatever it is, I wasn't feeling it.
I was enjoying the preponderance of Lady Gaga that was being blasted from every available speaker. We were lucky enough to catch a dance troupe of women in bikinis acting out the hot moves from Lady Gaga's videos. I think they were called the Mmmgagas, but I could be wrong because a drunk guy told me that. Maybe he was just slurring.
We walked around the expo for a while and ran into a few people we knew.
"Oooh! Hi! What are you doing here?" Us.
"Oh, you know...walking around." Them.
"Us too! Isn't it crazy that we saw each other here?" Us.
"Yeah, Totally" Them.
Then we stare at eachother for a moment before,
"Uh, well okay see you later" All together.
My big adventure of the day was the public bathroom on 14th street. I think somehow the lady in the stall next to me was so drunk that she peed on my foot. I don't want to talk about that though, really. Veronique found a boa on the ground and wore it around for a few minutes before she decided that Drag Queen wasn't the right look for her and left it draped across a newspaper box.
We went and ate some tacos and bought Laura a keychain. Veronique told me that I had to because Laura was feeling bad about being left home alone. Laura over extended herself on her bike ride that morning. When I came home from the beach clean up she was passed out on the bed in her bike-outfit, twitching a little. She wanted to come to pride but couldn't get off the couch. She's fine now. Veronique knows a little bit about biking because she has ridden across the whole state of Iowa. We were trying to figure out if anyone actually cares about Iowa and my long time readers will note that Iowa and I have a longstanding love-hate relationship (see Hamburg). We decided that no one actually cares about Iowa because no one writes songs about Iowa. Except Ani and Dar, but I wouldn't say they're widely known as Iowa-Songwriters.
Here's the lyrics to the Iowasong by Ani.
"4th of july" by Ani DiFranco
you gotta have the right tools
for every job
so i invite myself in
through a hole in the fence
i am tripping through the junkyard
scanning over the piles
the thin cats raise their skin in defense
i know he's watching me
i can see him through the cracks
his eyes are small and shy on my back
he says his name is jason
he lives in the last trailer on the right
and he'll be seven
on the fourth of july
only the people who live here
know the name of this place
my path through iowa would be
hard to trace
all the adults in this town
try not to frown
when i walk by
but jason smiled at me
he met my eye
he don't ask me
where i'm from
or why i came
here alone
we all go looking for paradise
then we go back home
we cut out the small talk
go right to the way things are
he showed me his squirrel skull
i told him i locked myself out of my car
so there goes the only friend
i have in iowa
his hand flapping behind him
waving good-bye
his name is jason
he lives in the last trailer on the right
and he'll be seven
on the fourth of july
Ani DiFranco Lyrics brought to you by danah boyd since 1995
I really like the "We all go looking for paradise and then we go back home" line. This song is off Puddle Dive which came out in 1993. This song was probably written somewhere between 1991-1992 and I'm assuming that 1. The story is true and 2. the events took place close to the time the song was written. Based on those assumptions and these complex calculations "2010 - (Possible Year of Story - 7) = Age of Jason" I've concluded that he is turning either 25 or 26 this year on 4th of July. If he exists, he's approximately the same age as me. I have often wondered what happened to Jason, who lives in the last trailer on the right. Does he know that he is prominently featured in an Ani song about acceptance and innocence?
I'm sure Ani reads this blog. If you would be so kind Ani, please let me know which town in Iowa you were passing through and what year and then I'm sure it would be relatively easy to track Jason down. I'll interview him, get back to you, and then you can write the 20-years-later- update-on-Jason song. That would be neat
BUT I DIGRESS.
Sunday morning I went to Step Aerobics, as I am wont to do. It was the hardest step aerobics class I've ever been to. Not because it was actually hard but mostly because it was boring (you should hear the stupid music that Ms. Tuesday.Thursday.Sunday plays), I was exhausted and I had the misfortune of standing behind Mr. Shortshorts.
The rigors of my day Saturday had left me completely exhausted and every squat ticktock and jump shot was an exercise in pure willpower. This was compounded by the fact that one should NEVER do step aerobics in short shorts. There are a lot of lunges and squats and stuff, you know? I will spare my poor readers from a more detailed description..but lets just say it is super hard to do step aerobics with your eyes closed, which I was forced to do. Luckily Mr. Shortshorts left half way through. Maybe he felt a breeze?
That's all for today, hope you stuck it through to the end.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Anna's House
I write more than you know. I was sorting through my stuff and I found this little piece that I like. I wrote it last September when I was visiting Anna in Balitmore. I had forgotten my camera and really wanted to make sure that I remembered what happened.
She's moving out of that little apartment now, but here it is preserved for all time.
1.
This weekend, I'm visiting Anna who has been my friend since we spent a summer on a Scientific Compound in rural Maryland. It had a gate with key cards, wild acres of deciduous forests, a communal kitchen and everything. We met while I was watching Lifetime movies. I was sprawled out on the couch when she and her mother walked in, asking were they could buy a lamp. "It's not bright enough in that room for her to read at night" her mother had said.
"There's a lamp under the bed," I replied.
Everyone is automatically my friend until one of us decides otherwise, that's why I'm never uncomfortable giving advice to strangers.
"No, It's not bright enough" said her mom.
"Oh, well, in that case I don't know" I said. They left, and I went back to my Lifetime movies. Anna says now that she was disturbed by my choice of programming but that she came to understand it. I'm sure she's my most level headed friend. She often pauses before answering questions, that's because she's thinking, which she does more of than most people. Or me.
Anna has recently moved to Baltimore to attend Grad School. I told her not to, but she won't listen. Perhaps Grad School is one of those mistakes worth making. We'll see, when we're all Club Members, if it was in fact worth it.
She has described her apartment to me on the phone as "cute" and "you should see my wood paneled wall!" I've imagined her apartment as a spacious city apartment with large windows and cute antique appliances that she has furnished in her minimalist hippy sort of style. She's the kind of girl that uses natural shampoo and keeps a sparse pantry of organic staples, so it follows that her apartment would be furnished with books and scented with patchouli. But Anna is not a hippy. I would say she's more rural-frugal. That means she likes books and thinking and eating good food and is practical in her decor and lifestyle; she is not overly concerned with appearance or style. Which isn't to say that she doesn't have it.
2.
The stairs creak and sag. They ease under weight and conform to the stress, it seems unsafe for two people to be on the same flight at one time. If you make it up the stairs and over the threshold, the apartment is all downhill to the far corner of the living room under the windows that are closer together at the bottom than they are at the top.
Anna's boyfriend describes the living room wall as the face of a stroke victim. The eyes each hold a cat, blinking in the sunshine, like pupils. There are two marble fireplaces and ornate heat grates but not a square angle in sight. Anna is sure that the fire places are hazards and instead stores things in them, like cables for the TV or a yoga mat.
Her bedroom is connected to the living room by a small hallway that holds her closet. There is no light in there so she literally dresses herself in the dark. I had long suspected that this was true, but now it has been confirmed. It is also possible that she removed the light herself, as an excuse.
On the closet floor, there was a mysterious puddle of goo on the floor that she described as "The pool of quicksand in my closet". She asked the previous tenant what they knew about it and she said "It was there when I moved in, just put a box over it". I hoped that it was a door to the netherworld, or Narnia. Anna is sometimes pragmatic and went to the hardware store to ask advice. They told her, "Wear gloves, and a mask. Be careful. If it is mold get out of there and call your landlord right away". It was easy to clean up though, Anna just scraped it off the floor. Anna thinks that it was probably a puddle of paint thinner, spilled 10 years ago and neglected ever since.
Everything is an adventure in Anna's house. When the house was divided into apartments the most reasonable place to put the bathroom, it seems, was in the hallway next to the front door. Privacy was accomplished by installing a row of closet doors. The whole bathroom can be opened up into the hallway. The toilet leans backwards towards the wall, so it is effectively a recliner. When the plumbing was installed, it must have been late in the afternoon, towards quitting time. No care was taken to make sure the pipes and the holes through the floor were the same size. It appears that they cut the holes larger than necessary, either on accident or for ease of instillation. As a result, there are several large holes in the floor of the bathroom and in the kitchen, as well as in the ceiling where ventilation ducts were installed. If there is anything positive about Anna's apartment, it's that it is on the top floor. Eventually, when the inside of the building gives its last sigh and collapses inward on itself, Anna will be on top of the heap.
3.
Anna and I have modest goals for the weekend. We will attend a baseball game, count hipsters and perhaps drink some coffee. I got up very early this morning to catch my flight. Because our afternoon activity today was climbing all 228 spiraling steps of A Washington monument in the neighborhood, we've returned to the apartment to rest and eat before we go back out to the baseball game. It is A Washington monument, as in the indefinite, any monument to Washington because I can't bring myself to give it a definite article. The Washington Monument is in Washington, D.C. and we are in Baltimore. Anna thinks that it will only take us 20 minutes to walk to the baseball stadium, but I think it will take us longer. We sometimes have little faith in each other, but she was right. It took us 25 minutes, though we were walking at quite a clip. I was excited to see the game though, and especially excited that I could walk there.
I love this city. There are buildings and sidewalks and people on the sidewalks walking from building to building. In Miami, where I have the misfortune to live currently, pedestrians are viewed skeptically or suspiciously. As in: "What kind of crazy person would be out walking around here?" or "Why can't you use gas like the rest of us?" Partly that attitude is related to the unfortunate weather we experience in the tropics, but mostly it is due to a more modern and less friendly breed of city planning.
Miami wasn't particularly livable until air conditioning was invented near the middle of the last century. People came in droves to the city from the north and the south at a time when cars were both fashionable and presitious. The city was made for cars and for the people who drive them. For a person to eschew automobile transportation is moderately blasphemous. Attitudes are changing slowly, but the roads can't be rebuilt easily in a city over run with people and poverty.
4.
When I woke up, I regretted that third beer. Like every other time this has happened, it seemed like such a good idea at the time. It was necessary, maybe, but mostly it was just there. Last night, we went to the ball game. I love to drink beer at baseball games, but I hate to pay for it, so for that reason I must avoid baseball game beer. As a reward, I had one when we returned to the house after the game. I think there may be many things wrong with me, but the one that bothers me most is my inability to drink any quantity of alcohol without being scratchy throated, bleary eyed, and headache-y in the morning. I must have a sub-functional alcohol deyhydrogenase, or something. Daylight is burning though, and it's Sunday.
I like Sunday well enough. I used to love them, before Laura went and got a second job and a hobby. She loves biking now, and Sunday mornings are for biking, not for newspapers, pancakes, eggs and drinking coffee until I am sweaty and nervous. Sunday is just another day when I get up after Laura has already left and is only a vague memory of a kiss goodbye from a blurry helmeted and lycra clad figure backlit by the hallway light. I walk the dogs and read the paper by myself before spending at least an hour laying on the couch, feeling sorry for myself and constructing a pep-talk in my head that will get me off the couch and doing "something useful". Or, mopping the floor.
But it is Sunday and I am not alone this week. Anna and I are making latkes now. They are very good with lamb, but we're not eating lamb today, we're having
latkes with apples. The kitchen is bright but not sunny. The sun is high enough now, in the middle of the afternoon, that it's just slanting in through the window, glancing the plants and lighting Anna's back as she watches over the Latkes. Flipping them, patting them down and dodging the popping oil. I'm doing dishes, standing sideways to the sink to avoid bumping into Anna and trying not to lose any silverware through the hole in the floor on the far side of the sink. She's only got one big spoon left.
Her Kitchen, like the rest of her apartment is clearly an afterthought. There are no counters, only a hodgepodge collection of furniture that has been re-purposed as kitchen counters. A sewing desk holds the spices and a set of utility room shelves double as cutting blocks and dish storage. The fridge is positioned next to the window and across from the stove in such a way that the door only just clears the stove. To open the fridge fully, without being squished between the door and the stove, you must open the fridge completely which creates a small passage between the open door and the stove where you can step around. Anna peers over the side of the door to ask me what I want; the fridge door is a barrier or a sort of wet bar. One person can open the fridge, scoot around it and offer drinks from behind it, like a bartender.
10 potatoes russet or red not yellow gold
2 medium onions
2 eggs
1/4 cup flour
1 tsp salt
2 tsp pepper
vegetable oil to fry
Grate potatoes and onion into colander over bowl, force out excess moisture. Yellow gold potatoes are too wet, that's why you shouldn't use them. Mix in egg and flour and spice. Heat 1 inch oil in large frying pan. Check the temperature of oil with small piece of potato. The oil is ready when the potato bubbles enthusiastically. Drop the batter by tablespoon and fry for several minutes. Flip them when the edges just start to brown. Drain on paper bags or paper towels. Serve with plain yogurt, apple sauce or whatever.
I try to decide what I would call my dish if I were on Top Chef. I've decided that the latkes today will be called "fried potato spiders with fresh apple relish and natural yogurt". I think this is a winning dish.
Anna told me that while she was going to Philosophy College that she ran across a footnote in a play that described a statement as the "Monosylabic turning point of the play". As in: Huh? Ohh. Umm. Ok! Shit.
The apogee of the plot, where everyone pauses to listen to the main character deliver the line breathlessly. I'm trying to decide what the monosylabic turning point of my life is.
She's moving out of that little apartment now, but here it is preserved for all time.
1.
This weekend, I'm visiting Anna who has been my friend since we spent a summer on a Scientific Compound in rural Maryland. It had a gate with key cards, wild acres of deciduous forests, a communal kitchen and everything. We met while I was watching Lifetime movies. I was sprawled out on the couch when she and her mother walked in, asking were they could buy a lamp. "It's not bright enough in that room for her to read at night" her mother had said.
"There's a lamp under the bed," I replied.
Everyone is automatically my friend until one of us decides otherwise, that's why I'm never uncomfortable giving advice to strangers.
"No, It's not bright enough" said her mom.
"Oh, well, in that case I don't know" I said. They left, and I went back to my Lifetime movies. Anna says now that she was disturbed by my choice of programming but that she came to understand it. I'm sure she's my most level headed friend. She often pauses before answering questions, that's because she's thinking, which she does more of than most people. Or me.
Anna has recently moved to Baltimore to attend Grad School. I told her not to, but she won't listen. Perhaps Grad School is one of those mistakes worth making. We'll see, when we're all Club Members, if it was in fact worth it.
She has described her apartment to me on the phone as "cute" and "you should see my wood paneled wall!" I've imagined her apartment as a spacious city apartment with large windows and cute antique appliances that she has furnished in her minimalist hippy sort of style. She's the kind of girl that uses natural shampoo and keeps a sparse pantry of organic staples, so it follows that her apartment would be furnished with books and scented with patchouli. But Anna is not a hippy. I would say she's more rural-frugal. That means she likes books and thinking and eating good food and is practical in her decor and lifestyle; she is not overly concerned with appearance or style. Which isn't to say that she doesn't have it.
2.
The stairs creak and sag. They ease under weight and conform to the stress, it seems unsafe for two people to be on the same flight at one time. If you make it up the stairs and over the threshold, the apartment is all downhill to the far corner of the living room under the windows that are closer together at the bottom than they are at the top.
Anna's boyfriend describes the living room wall as the face of a stroke victim. The eyes each hold a cat, blinking in the sunshine, like pupils. There are two marble fireplaces and ornate heat grates but not a square angle in sight. Anna is sure that the fire places are hazards and instead stores things in them, like cables for the TV or a yoga mat.
Her bedroom is connected to the living room by a small hallway that holds her closet. There is no light in there so she literally dresses herself in the dark. I had long suspected that this was true, but now it has been confirmed. It is also possible that she removed the light herself, as an excuse.
On the closet floor, there was a mysterious puddle of goo on the floor that she described as "The pool of quicksand in my closet". She asked the previous tenant what they knew about it and she said "It was there when I moved in, just put a box over it". I hoped that it was a door to the netherworld, or Narnia. Anna is sometimes pragmatic and went to the hardware store to ask advice. They told her, "Wear gloves, and a mask. Be careful. If it is mold get out of there and call your landlord right away". It was easy to clean up though, Anna just scraped it off the floor. Anna thinks that it was probably a puddle of paint thinner, spilled 10 years ago and neglected ever since.
Everything is an adventure in Anna's house. When the house was divided into apartments the most reasonable place to put the bathroom, it seems, was in the hallway next to the front door. Privacy was accomplished by installing a row of closet doors. The whole bathroom can be opened up into the hallway. The toilet leans backwards towards the wall, so it is effectively a recliner. When the plumbing was installed, it must have been late in the afternoon, towards quitting time. No care was taken to make sure the pipes and the holes through the floor were the same size. It appears that they cut the holes larger than necessary, either on accident or for ease of instillation. As a result, there are several large holes in the floor of the bathroom and in the kitchen, as well as in the ceiling where ventilation ducts were installed. If there is anything positive about Anna's apartment, it's that it is on the top floor. Eventually, when the inside of the building gives its last sigh and collapses inward on itself, Anna will be on top of the heap.
3.
Anna and I have modest goals for the weekend. We will attend a baseball game, count hipsters and perhaps drink some coffee. I got up very early this morning to catch my flight. Because our afternoon activity today was climbing all 228 spiraling steps of A Washington monument in the neighborhood, we've returned to the apartment to rest and eat before we go back out to the baseball game. It is A Washington monument, as in the indefinite, any monument to Washington because I can't bring myself to give it a definite article. The Washington Monument is in Washington, D.C. and we are in Baltimore. Anna thinks that it will only take us 20 minutes to walk to the baseball stadium, but I think it will take us longer. We sometimes have little faith in each other, but she was right. It took us 25 minutes, though we were walking at quite a clip. I was excited to see the game though, and especially excited that I could walk there.
I love this city. There are buildings and sidewalks and people on the sidewalks walking from building to building. In Miami, where I have the misfortune to live currently, pedestrians are viewed skeptically or suspiciously. As in: "What kind of crazy person would be out walking around here?" or "Why can't you use gas like the rest of us?" Partly that attitude is related to the unfortunate weather we experience in the tropics, but mostly it is due to a more modern and less friendly breed of city planning.
Miami wasn't particularly livable until air conditioning was invented near the middle of the last century. People came in droves to the city from the north and the south at a time when cars were both fashionable and presitious. The city was made for cars and for the people who drive them. For a person to eschew automobile transportation is moderately blasphemous. Attitudes are changing slowly, but the roads can't be rebuilt easily in a city over run with people and poverty.
4.
When I woke up, I regretted that third beer. Like every other time this has happened, it seemed like such a good idea at the time. It was necessary, maybe, but mostly it was just there. Last night, we went to the ball game. I love to drink beer at baseball games, but I hate to pay for it, so for that reason I must avoid baseball game beer. As a reward, I had one when we returned to the house after the game. I think there may be many things wrong with me, but the one that bothers me most is my inability to drink any quantity of alcohol without being scratchy throated, bleary eyed, and headache-y in the morning. I must have a sub-functional alcohol deyhydrogenase, or something. Daylight is burning though, and it's Sunday.
I like Sunday well enough. I used to love them, before Laura went and got a second job and a hobby. She loves biking now, and Sunday mornings are for biking, not for newspapers, pancakes, eggs and drinking coffee until I am sweaty and nervous. Sunday is just another day when I get up after Laura has already left and is only a vague memory of a kiss goodbye from a blurry helmeted and lycra clad figure backlit by the hallway light. I walk the dogs and read the paper by myself before spending at least an hour laying on the couch, feeling sorry for myself and constructing a pep-talk in my head that will get me off the couch and doing "something useful". Or, mopping the floor.
But it is Sunday and I am not alone this week. Anna and I are making latkes now. They are very good with lamb, but we're not eating lamb today, we're having
latkes with apples. The kitchen is bright but not sunny. The sun is high enough now, in the middle of the afternoon, that it's just slanting in through the window, glancing the plants and lighting Anna's back as she watches over the Latkes. Flipping them, patting them down and dodging the popping oil. I'm doing dishes, standing sideways to the sink to avoid bumping into Anna and trying not to lose any silverware through the hole in the floor on the far side of the sink. She's only got one big spoon left.
Her Kitchen, like the rest of her apartment is clearly an afterthought. There are no counters, only a hodgepodge collection of furniture that has been re-purposed as kitchen counters. A sewing desk holds the spices and a set of utility room shelves double as cutting blocks and dish storage. The fridge is positioned next to the window and across from the stove in such a way that the door only just clears the stove. To open the fridge fully, without being squished between the door and the stove, you must open the fridge completely which creates a small passage between the open door and the stove where you can step around. Anna peers over the side of the door to ask me what I want; the fridge door is a barrier or a sort of wet bar. One person can open the fridge, scoot around it and offer drinks from behind it, like a bartender.
10 potatoes russet or red not yellow gold
2 medium onions
2 eggs
1/4 cup flour
1 tsp salt
2 tsp pepper
vegetable oil to fry
Grate potatoes and onion into colander over bowl, force out excess moisture. Yellow gold potatoes are too wet, that's why you shouldn't use them. Mix in egg and flour and spice. Heat 1 inch oil in large frying pan. Check the temperature of oil with small piece of potato. The oil is ready when the potato bubbles enthusiastically. Drop the batter by tablespoon and fry for several minutes. Flip them when the edges just start to brown. Drain on paper bags or paper towels. Serve with plain yogurt, apple sauce or whatever.
I try to decide what I would call my dish if I were on Top Chef. I've decided that the latkes today will be called "fried potato spiders with fresh apple relish and natural yogurt". I think this is a winning dish.
Anna told me that while she was going to Philosophy College that she ran across a footnote in a play that described a statement as the "Monosylabic turning point of the play". As in: Huh? Ohh. Umm. Ok! Shit.
The apogee of the plot, where everyone pauses to listen to the main character deliver the line breathlessly. I'm trying to decide what the monosylabic turning point of my life is.
What's one food you'll never eat again?
Sardines in a can are too graphic for me. They have little spines and shiny scales and no heads.
South Africa
Yeah! I'm going for sure!
July 31-August 21st
Holy cow!
Time to start reading up on culture and customs and how to survive a charge by a wild elephant. Our program advisor says that we'll have guides with guns, so we shouldn't worry too much about wild animals, but like I always say...you can never be too prepared.
We're going to be in Capetown, Johannesburg and Kruger National Park. In Capetown and Kruger we'll be doing research. The awesome part is that we get to camp at Kruger for a week and actually hang out in the park, rather than ride around on cars. In Pretoria (Johannesburg) we'll be teaching in schools. It's going to be a whirl wind tour.
Who's been to South Africa? Any sights I need to make sure I see?
July 31-August 21st
Holy cow!
Time to start reading up on culture and customs and how to survive a charge by a wild elephant. Our program advisor says that we'll have guides with guns, so we shouldn't worry too much about wild animals, but like I always say...you can never be too prepared.
We're going to be in Capetown, Johannesburg and Kruger National Park. In Capetown and Kruger we'll be doing research. The awesome part is that we get to camp at Kruger for a week and actually hang out in the park, rather than ride around on cars. In Pretoria (Johannesburg) we'll be teaching in schools. It's going to be a whirl wind tour.
Who's been to South Africa? Any sights I need to make sure I see?
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Dingle Way
Fred and I are going to Dingle this summer.
That's what the count down is all about.
We're going to hike the Dingle Peninsula in a counter-clock wise fashion and we're going to spend 7 days doing it. I got the idea from Larry "Baro" Alexander who wrote the Thru Hiker's Eyes books that I like so very very much. Actually, I would like the 'books' if I had read the second one. I've only read the first one, I haven't gotten my hands on a copy of volume II yet, but it exists.
Anyway so the itinerary looks like this:
June 30 arrive in Dublin, drink lots of beer and look at stuff like castles and illumianted manuscripts.
July 2 (Friday) Leave in the morning to Dingle, ride a bus across Ireland to the South west corner where the Dingle sticks out into the sea...Get off the Bus in Tralee and hopefully make it to Camp (it's a place, not a verb)
July 3: Hit the trail towards Cloghane and so on.
July 9: Get off the trail somewhere around Dingle or Annascaul and head to Shannon
July 10: Fly home
The logistics of this trip are tricky because we can only catch certain buses to certain places on certain days. But, I think this will give us enough time to not get stranded on the west side of the peninsula.
I'll be posting more interesting things about Dingle in the future...stay tuned. For now, if you're interested, you can check out the Dingle Way online
That's what the count down is all about.
We're going to hike the Dingle Peninsula in a counter-clock wise fashion and we're going to spend 7 days doing it. I got the idea from Larry "Baro" Alexander who wrote the Thru Hiker's Eyes books that I like so very very much. Actually, I would like the 'books' if I had read the second one. I've only read the first one, I haven't gotten my hands on a copy of volume II yet, but it exists.
Anyway so the itinerary looks like this:
June 30 arrive in Dublin, drink lots of beer and look at stuff like castles and illumianted manuscripts.
July 2 (Friday) Leave in the morning to Dingle, ride a bus across Ireland to the South west corner where the Dingle sticks out into the sea...Get off the Bus in Tralee and hopefully make it to Camp (it's a place, not a verb)
July 3: Hit the trail towards Cloghane and so on.
July 9: Get off the trail somewhere around Dingle or Annascaul and head to Shannon
July 10: Fly home
The logistics of this trip are tricky because we can only catch certain buses to certain places on certain days. But, I think this will give us enough time to not get stranded on the west side of the peninsula.
I'll be posting more interesting things about Dingle in the future...stay tuned. For now, if you're interested, you can check out the Dingle Way online
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
You just pull the handle and money pours out!
It's that simple.
Last week I was parking on main campus. They have a visitor lot near the science building that I frequent. Its got the centralized type of parking meters--you know where you have to remember your parking spot number, trudge across the lot to get a reciept that says you paid and then trudge back to your car to put it in the dash board. What drudgery!
I walked up to the meter and I was going to put $1.50 in because I was planning to be around for an hour and a half. Imagine my horror when I noticed that there were quarters jammed into the coin slot. Oh no! What was I supposed to do! I couldn't pay only $1.00 or I ran the risk of getting a ticket. I did what is usually the most reasonable thing to do in that sort of situation. I pounded on the coin return button and shook the machine. To my delight money started to pour into the receipt/coin return tray at the bottom of the parking meter. There was a lot of it too. So much that some of it even fell out of the tray and onto the ground.
There were some guys behind me so I tried to play it cool while I scooped up the money off the ground and from out of the coin tray and dropped it into my pocket. Good thing I was wearing a belt or the sheer weight of the quarters and dollar coins would have caused me some embarrassment in the World-Can-See-My-Underwear department.
HA! Take THAT parking meter! I'll see you again next week!
Last week I was parking on main campus. They have a visitor lot near the science building that I frequent. Its got the centralized type of parking meters--you know where you have to remember your parking spot number, trudge across the lot to get a reciept that says you paid and then trudge back to your car to put it in the dash board. What drudgery!
I walked up to the meter and I was going to put $1.50 in because I was planning to be around for an hour and a half. Imagine my horror when I noticed that there were quarters jammed into the coin slot. Oh no! What was I supposed to do! I couldn't pay only $1.00 or I ran the risk of getting a ticket. I did what is usually the most reasonable thing to do in that sort of situation. I pounded on the coin return button and shook the machine. To my delight money started to pour into the receipt/coin return tray at the bottom of the parking meter. There was a lot of it too. So much that some of it even fell out of the tray and onto the ground.
There were some guys behind me so I tried to play it cool while I scooped up the money off the ground and from out of the coin tray and dropped it into my pocket. Good thing I was wearing a belt or the sheer weight of the quarters and dollar coins would have caused me some embarrassment in the World-Can-See-My-Underwear department.
HA! Take THAT parking meter! I'll see you again next week!
Kindle II
Apparently my mother had a long and well composed argument for why I shouldn't buy a kindle. Something about the tactile value of books. Unfortuntately, this electronic guest book thing doesn't always work and her comment didn't come through in time. I bought a kindle. I love it. Love. Love. Love.
It's like an iPod for books! And, unlike the iPod, the books can be gotten legally for free. Which is a super good thing if you like OLD books like I do. I've downloaded all of the Wizard of Oz books as well as some other novels by L. Frank Baum that I didn't even know existed. I've got the Epic Poem of Finland and all the Andrew Lang Fairy Books. I've got Looking Backward 2000-1887 (which I thought was super appropriate to have on a Kindle), Ulysses and Middlemarch (now I can never getting around to reading them in electronic form, but at least it was free).
When I travel I can have the latest edition of Rick Steve's, every airplane novel I want and the entire western cannon all shoved into 10.2 ounces. It just doesn't get any better than that.
Also I can check my email on my Kindle, or even blog from my Kindle.
It's like an iPod for books! And, unlike the iPod, the books can be gotten legally for free. Which is a super good thing if you like OLD books like I do. I've downloaded all of the Wizard of Oz books as well as some other novels by L. Frank Baum that I didn't even know existed. I've got the Epic Poem of Finland and all the Andrew Lang Fairy Books. I've got Looking Backward 2000-1887 (which I thought was super appropriate to have on a Kindle), Ulysses and Middlemarch (now I can never getting around to reading them in electronic form, but at least it was free).
When I travel I can have the latest edition of Rick Steve's, every airplane novel I want and the entire western cannon all shoved into 10.2 ounces. It just doesn't get any better than that.
Also I can check my email on my Kindle, or even blog from my Kindle.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Shoe Saga
The other day I mentioned that Laura's shoes were MIA. There's more to it, really. Here's the whole story.
On Wednesday I had to head over to main campus in the afternoon for a meeting. When I got down to the car I noticed that Laura had left her keys, bike shoes and sunglasses in there. She was planning to ride home from work. I thought I'd do her a favor and bring those things inside for her--since they wouldn't do her any good if they were on main campus. I was in a hurry though, so I shoved the shoes, glasses and keys into my work mailbox and left her a voice mail. I thought she ought to go pick them up as soon as possible because my mailbox is not that big and the shoes were conspicuously sticking out of the box.
When Laura finally got around to picking her shoes up around 7pm, they were gone. Granted, that's a very long time to leave shoes unattended but seriously, who would have thought? The mailboxes are behind a door that you need to have a keycard to access, and ...bike shoes? What a weird thing to steal. And plus, aren't scientists supposed to be upstanding characters or something?
Laura was distraught. Absolutely distraught. She had spent months trying shoes on and sending them back before she finally found a pair that fit. The shoes have to be specially ordered from Italy or something ridiculous like that. I guess they must have LOOKED expensive, too.
That night, I fired of a quick email to the whole campus asking please for the quick return of the misplaced shoes. Lots of people responded and were concerned. I got a lot of emails suggesting that I review the security tapes, or that the shoes were there at 5:30 when whoever went home. The security camera doesn't point at the mailboxes and it wasn't even on...great.
Thursday morning came and went and no shoes. Thursday afternoon I printed up some reward posters and put them all over campus and sent out another email to a larger email list that said something like "oh goodness, a pair of shoes has mysteriously disappeared from my mailbox. They belong to Laura, a rising star on the south Florida biking circuit and she can not race without them this weekend. Laura and her missing shoes were the talk of the campus and I'd definitely decided that we were never going to see them again.
Friday evening the shoes reappeared as mysteriously as they had disappeared. Someone found them in the recycling/elevator room on the second floor of the same building where they were lost. How weird is that? I'm amazed they came back and I hope that it was my guilt-inducing emails that helped...
Oh, and Laura won her bike race this morning. She beat all the women in her category and came in 4th over all. That's 4th out of all the PROS. Wow. She says she could have placed 'on the podium' or top three if only she'd been less polite...Next time.
My workout: 1 mile swim, 4.5 mile run with 2 miles of bridge repeats. I nearly died, but I was running with one of the H.ammerheads who told me that that feeling like you're going to puke is because your heart gets overfilled with blood and your extended aorta triggers that pukey reflex in your esophagus. Does anyone know if this is true? If so, that's scary.
On Wednesday I had to head over to main campus in the afternoon for a meeting. When I got down to the car I noticed that Laura had left her keys, bike shoes and sunglasses in there. She was planning to ride home from work. I thought I'd do her a favor and bring those things inside for her--since they wouldn't do her any good if they were on main campus. I was in a hurry though, so I shoved the shoes, glasses and keys into my work mailbox and left her a voice mail. I thought she ought to go pick them up as soon as possible because my mailbox is not that big and the shoes were conspicuously sticking out of the box.
When Laura finally got around to picking her shoes up around 7pm, they were gone. Granted, that's a very long time to leave shoes unattended but seriously, who would have thought? The mailboxes are behind a door that you need to have a keycard to access, and ...bike shoes? What a weird thing to steal. And plus, aren't scientists supposed to be upstanding characters or something?
Laura was distraught. Absolutely distraught. She had spent months trying shoes on and sending them back before she finally found a pair that fit. The shoes have to be specially ordered from Italy or something ridiculous like that. I guess they must have LOOKED expensive, too.
That night, I fired of a quick email to the whole campus asking please for the quick return of the misplaced shoes. Lots of people responded and were concerned. I got a lot of emails suggesting that I review the security tapes, or that the shoes were there at 5:30 when whoever went home. The security camera doesn't point at the mailboxes and it wasn't even on...great.
Thursday morning came and went and no shoes. Thursday afternoon I printed up some reward posters and put them all over campus and sent out another email to a larger email list that said something like "oh goodness, a pair of shoes has mysteriously disappeared from my mailbox. They belong to Laura, a rising star on the south Florida biking circuit and she can not race without them this weekend. Laura and her missing shoes were the talk of the campus and I'd definitely decided that we were never going to see them again.
Friday evening the shoes reappeared as mysteriously as they had disappeared. Someone found them in the recycling/elevator room on the second floor of the same building where they were lost. How weird is that? I'm amazed they came back and I hope that it was my guilt-inducing emails that helped...
Oh, and Laura won her bike race this morning. She beat all the women in her category and came in 4th over all. That's 4th out of all the PROS. Wow. She says she could have placed 'on the podium' or top three if only she'd been less polite...Next time.
My workout: 1 mile swim, 4.5 mile run with 2 miles of bridge repeats. I nearly died, but I was running with one of the H.ammerheads who told me that that feeling like you're going to puke is because your heart gets overfilled with blood and your extended aorta triggers that pukey reflex in your esophagus. Does anyone know if this is true? If so, that's scary.
Friday, April 9, 2010
What a week, what a week
Brief update.
I've been distracted I guess.
Yesterday, Laura's bike shoes were stolen out of my mailbox at work. Those expensive italian shoes that she spent months searching for. Gone. Who would have thought that someone at our school would do that? That's not even classy.
KT came to my classroom today and was blown away by the chaos and stressful atmosphere created by my teacher. I'm starting to wonder how much longer I can take it. We did an awesome activity today, though. I told the kids about what I do with Complex I and then had them translate a Complex I RNA into "protein". They used the universal genetic code chart and we assigned colors to the amino acids and they made a paper chain. We taped the paper chain to the walls and now there's a little bit more color in the room and the kids can see something they worked on posted on the walls. I think that's important.
I've been training seriously for the NICE. it's only 59 days away now....I'm supposed to get on the bike tonight and put some time in. Laura's having a taco and watching the Tour of the Basque on tv right now, so I'm not sure how soon that trainer is going to get set up.
Workouts:
Saturday: 1 mile swim, 12 mile bike
Sunday: off
Monday: 4 mile run. I was going to go to step aerobics but I ended up giving blood in the afternoon so I skipped the evening workout.
Tuesday: 12 mile bike
Wednesday: 4.5 mile run am, 2 mile run pm
Thursday: still waiting for that trainer...I was supposed to swim this morning but my school schedule got messed up because the kids took a field trip to the Fair on Wednesday.
I've been distracted I guess.
Yesterday, Laura's bike shoes were stolen out of my mailbox at work. Those expensive italian shoes that she spent months searching for. Gone. Who would have thought that someone at our school would do that? That's not even classy.
KT came to my classroom today and was blown away by the chaos and stressful atmosphere created by my teacher. I'm starting to wonder how much longer I can take it. We did an awesome activity today, though. I told the kids about what I do with Complex I and then had them translate a Complex I RNA into "protein". They used the universal genetic code chart and we assigned colors to the amino acids and they made a paper chain. We taped the paper chain to the walls and now there's a little bit more color in the room and the kids can see something they worked on posted on the walls. I think that's important.
I've been training seriously for the NICE. it's only 59 days away now....I'm supposed to get on the bike tonight and put some time in. Laura's having a taco and watching the Tour of the Basque on tv right now, so I'm not sure how soon that trainer is going to get set up.
Workouts:
Saturday: 1 mile swim, 12 mile bike
Sunday: off
Monday: 4 mile run. I was going to go to step aerobics but I ended up giving blood in the afternoon so I skipped the evening workout.
Tuesday: 12 mile bike
Wednesday: 4.5 mile run am, 2 mile run pm
Thursday: still waiting for that trainer...I was supposed to swim this morning but my school schedule got messed up because the kids took a field trip to the Fair on Wednesday.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Oh, but it's so Dirty!
Yesterday KT called me at 2:30 and asked if I wanted to go with her to the fair. "Hey, wanna ditch work and go to the fair" is actually how she put it. Naturally I said yes.
We went and picked up her little sister and her sister's cousin and drove up to the fair--which was like a THOUSAND miles away. Really, it just felt that way because I was so excited. I haven't been to the fair since I was like a freshman in college, I think. And that was the Latah County fair. The Miami Fair is a Big Deal. It runs for like 2 months, instead of 4 days or however long those podunk little county fairs last. Understandably, KT wanted company because fairs aren't terribly grown up affairs.
We got to the fair and went to the petting zoo first. I was trying to talk the kids into going and looking at the sheep and pigs and goats, but they weren't going to go for it. The petting zoo at least let me get my agricultural fix. They had zebus (sacred cattle of India) and some thing called a scottish highlander that looked like some sort of muppet type cow and a bunch of goats and sheep and a ZEBRA! and Kangaroos. Best Petting Zoo EVER. Then we did regular old fair stuff, went on rides, stood in lines. Mostly stood in lines.
Turns out KT is TERRIFIED of fair rides. The kids got her to agree to go on the big swings with all of us. I sat with KT and the kids rode together. We got up to the top and KT about threw the stuffed hippo she was holding for her little sister over the edge in her frantic reach for the edge of the seat. I rescued the hippo and laughed hysterically at her hyperventilating as we swung around. I was surprised by her reaction because she managed to handle the Super Drop pretty well. Or whatever it's called where they tow you up a giant tower and then let you fall back down. I was definitely hyperventilating as we sat at the top on that one. Scary!
I went on a few other rides with the kids--those damn wrist bands are EXPENSIVE, so I bought a few tickets and then ended up stretching them out by not giving the operators as many as the ride really 'cost'. How do you like them apples!!
We went on the Fireball which one of the kids told me that those people got stuck on the other day. That's WHY we went on it, really. It was super fun and scary and didn't get stuck. But, actually it was the Space Roller that got stuck. Damn.
I ate a lot of food that I immediately regretted. I am happy to report though, that the arepas were even better than the ones I had at Calle 8.
Today's Gaga or Ani game:
1. Don't forget my lipstick, I left it in your ashtray
2. people talk about my image like i come in two dimensions like lipstick is a sign of my declining mind
Yesterday I swam a mile and today I rode to work then ran 3 miles.
We went and picked up her little sister and her sister's cousin and drove up to the fair--which was like a THOUSAND miles away. Really, it just felt that way because I was so excited. I haven't been to the fair since I was like a freshman in college, I think. And that was the Latah County fair. The Miami Fair is a Big Deal. It runs for like 2 months, instead of 4 days or however long those podunk little county fairs last. Understandably, KT wanted company because fairs aren't terribly grown up affairs.
We got to the fair and went to the petting zoo first. I was trying to talk the kids into going and looking at the sheep and pigs and goats, but they weren't going to go for it. The petting zoo at least let me get my agricultural fix. They had zebus (sacred cattle of India) and some thing called a scottish highlander that looked like some sort of muppet type cow and a bunch of goats and sheep and a ZEBRA! and Kangaroos. Best Petting Zoo EVER. Then we did regular old fair stuff, went on rides, stood in lines. Mostly stood in lines.
Turns out KT is TERRIFIED of fair rides. The kids got her to agree to go on the big swings with all of us. I sat with KT and the kids rode together. We got up to the top and KT about threw the stuffed hippo she was holding for her little sister over the edge in her frantic reach for the edge of the seat. I rescued the hippo and laughed hysterically at her hyperventilating as we swung around. I was surprised by her reaction because she managed to handle the Super Drop pretty well. Or whatever it's called where they tow you up a giant tower and then let you fall back down. I was definitely hyperventilating as we sat at the top on that one. Scary!
I went on a few other rides with the kids--those damn wrist bands are EXPENSIVE, so I bought a few tickets and then ended up stretching them out by not giving the operators as many as the ride really 'cost'. How do you like them apples!!
We went on the Fireball which one of the kids told me that those people got stuck on the other day. That's WHY we went on it, really. It was super fun and scary and didn't get stuck. But, actually it was the Space Roller that got stuck. Damn.
I ate a lot of food that I immediately regretted. I am happy to report though, that the arepas were even better than the ones I had at Calle 8.
Today's Gaga or Ani game:
1. Don't forget my lipstick, I left it in your ashtray
2. people talk about my image like i come in two dimensions like lipstick is a sign of my declining mind
Yesterday I swam a mile and today I rode to work then ran 3 miles.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Miami Nice
I'm doing the Miami Nice Olympic distance triathlon in June. That leaves me 8 weeks to train. I haven't been training. Oooops. [[But, the registration was free. Thanks pros!]] I'm a little worried that I don't have enough time. I'm going to have to be super diligent about my workouts.
Lucky you, reader, you get to be party to my 8 weeks of training leading up to this race. I'll post my daily training plan and how much fun it is to train for a longer race with less time and after taking a winter off. I think it will keep me honest:
Today I ran 2 miles and then swam for 28 minutes. By my calculations, that's 1400 m.
I'm trying to talk Laura into starting a blog about her biking. She's winning first place in every race she does and even is beating PROS. Woah. I'm sure she has lots to say about training and gear. Maybe if she writes it in a blog, she'll stop boring me with all the details....Laura, are you reading this?
Lucky you, reader, you get to be party to my 8 weeks of training leading up to this race. I'll post my daily training plan and how much fun it is to train for a longer race with less time and after taking a winter off. I think it will keep me honest:
Today I ran 2 miles and then swam for 28 minutes. By my calculations, that's 1400 m.
I'm trying to talk Laura into starting a blog about her biking. She's winning first place in every race she does and even is beating PROS. Woah. I'm sure she has lots to say about training and gear. Maybe if she writes it in a blog, she'll stop boring me with all the details....Laura, are you reading this?
Painting is Fun!
In Feburary, I painted the living room and the dining room of my new apartment. Laura, as is the usual when I'm doing home improvement type things, went on a bike ride. It took me way longer to paint than I thought it was going to. Luckily, I only spent 5 minutes picking out the colors so I saved some time there. By the time I finished with the living room I was totally spent.
Laura did help out by taking a few pictures, so I've got a photo essay for you. It's a true photo essay, so you have to fill in the words yourself! We have a Do It Yourself theme today, after all.
Actually, lets make this a captioning contest. If you can send me clever captions that tell the story, I'll send you a post card---I've got some good ones waiting to find a home!
Laura did help out by taking a few pictures, so I've got a photo essay for you. It's a true photo essay, so you have to fill in the words yourself! We have a Do It Yourself theme today, after all.
Actually, lets make this a captioning contest. If you can send me clever captions that tell the story, I'll send you a post card---I've got some good ones waiting to find a home!
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