Back Into The Groove

Well, it's my last day of vacation before heading back to work. I feel like I've been gone a long time. I feel decompressed. I feel... ready to get back to work! It's a good feeling, enjoying the routine you've created for yourself.

Nice to get away and nice to get back.

I spent most of the afternoon and evening yesterday with Matt working on some artistic ventures. The man's a genius, I can assure you. I take full responsibility for his impending photography career, which will be wildly successful. Of course, he'll still continue to shoot me pro bono - or, as he corrected me last night, pro-food-o. Hah.

Today I woke up at a decent hour to try to reclaim my space at the yoga studio. I feel fatigued. In a few minutes I might wander around and do some clothes shopping, maybe see a movie... maybe not... just a lazy, drawn-out summer Sunday.

It's good to be home.

Photos Hellenica

Just a sample from Athens and Santorini:


The Parthenon




The Temple of Olympian Zeus




The Porch of Maidens at the Erectheum




View from Mars Rock of the Agora, where Socrates used to question his students and debate with other philosophers




View of the cliffs from our hotel in Santorini




Me in a cafe overlooking the village of Ia on Santorini

Home (Sort of)

I'm back in the States, but for the life of me I can't figure out why. Certainly not for the rich Midwestern scenery.

I'll be flying back to DC later this afternoon and will post pictures and details soon.

Yassou!

Hello from Greece faithful readers. I'm currently enjoying the gorgeous dry weather in Athens. My hair looks amazing because of this weather. I know many of you cannot picture what that would be like. Just trust me.

There are Artemis icons everywhere, her Roman counterpart being, of course, Diana. For those of you who don't know, Diana/Atermis is the goddess of the hunt. She both hunts and protects wild animals, and also inflicts cruel punishments on men, who are usually trying to court or rape her.

Tomorrow I will go all the way to Delphi, then it's off to the island of Mykonos, and beyond.

I have already eaten my weight in feta cheese, which is so creamy and unbelievably seasoned. I also like the wine very, very much.

I'm Off

In a few minutes I will embark to the sunny Mediterranean.

See you all in mid-June!

Save Me From Myself

Lately I have been toying with the idea of going back to school for a second Master's.

What a horrifying, masochistic thought.

Just kill me.

Wine

I read somewhere recently that, despite the initial depressive effects of alcohol on the body's system, once the alcohol begins to dissipate, it has the opposite, stimulating, effect. This is why people don't actually sleep well after they've been drinking despite sometimes feeling drowsy and falling asleep quickly.

It's kind of irritating. And then I fall into the equally irritating wine cycle: Fall asleep. Wake up, need to pee. Fall back asleep. Wake up, dehydrated, drink water. Fall back asleep. Wake up, need to pee. Fall back asleep. Wake up, dehydrated, drink water. Fall back asleep. And so forth.

So yeah, that was basically my night. I have the day off today, thankfully, and I think we're going to head down to Alexandria to visit a jazz festival. The forecast calls for isolated thunderstorms in the afternoon, though, so that may negatively impact our plans.

Long Weekend

Time is ticking down until I leave for the sunny Mediterranean! If I can get through this weekend and four days of work, I will be home free...

Last night my brother, his girlfriend, and I had dinner at Rosa Mexicano in Chinatown. I ate way too much of their guacamole, made tableside, and a light and lovely seared tuna filet crusted with avacado leaf served over a spicy salad. Yum.

I think I will spend the next few days just enjoying the feeling of being hungry, if it ever happens again... I wouldn't be surprised if I feel full for the rest of my life.

I Want A Cheeseburger

A double cheeseburger. With bacon and bleu cheese. A crispy thin seasoned fries with barbecue sauce. And a coke.

But instead I think I'm going to take a yoga class and have some cereal for dinner afterwards.

I need my strength for the game tonight.

This playoff series is giving me a stroke

I don't think I can take much more of this.

The Ducks tied the game at one with 47 seconds to go. They won it with a goal in the first overtime.

Next game is Tuesday. God help us all.

Update

At long last! I've been terribly delinquent of late. I've been busy, which is unusual!

It's been kind of a hell of a week, so I'm just hanging out by myself tonight and waiting for the Red Wings to continue their psychological and physical domination of the Might Ducks in game four of the Western Conference finals. The Ducks are lamenting the loss of their star player, Chris Pronger, who must sit out a game because of a rough hit he made on Tuesday night.

Am I sad? Hardly. Pronger can suck it. His team is doomed no matter what.

Of course, I don't get the fancy cable channels that are showing the game, so I'll be listening to it on streaming radio. There's something old-school about listening to a hockey game. I like it.

Underground Claustrophobia

This afternoon I had a speaking engagement at a conference in Crystal City. I was a little early for my lab session and subsequent lecture, so I took a few minutes to wander around the weird underground village.

My verdict: slightly creepy. I mean, they have EVERYTHING down there: restaurants, grocery stores, drug stores, salons, clothing and shoe stores, a cobbler, newstands, a food court, a weird store that sells those Pinnochio things, what are they called? Mobiles? Those things? Marrionettes? Whatever. There was even a woman sitting at a little table outside the Starbucks.

TODAY IS A BEAUTIFUL, 70-DEGREE, DRY, SUNNY DAY and she was sitting UNDERGROUND drinking her coffee and reading a magazine.

That underground city is a tease, too.. every now and then you walk around a corner and see what looks like a beautiful open courtyard in front of you with sun streaming down and greenery.. then you get closer and find out that it's still enclosed. Skylights.

So, I'm sorry. I realize that in some strange way this may be convenient, to never have to set foot outside, ever, to do any of your errands or even go to work. But I think it's creepy. I'm going to go take a bottle of wine up to my rooftop terrace right now... and soak up the rest of the sun.

Just Thinking

When a student of yoga is ready to make a greater commitment to the Ashtanga practice, he or she is encouraged to begin Mysore classes, the traditional self-led practice. I've posted about this before, I think. My yoga studio offers Mysore classes every day of the week, although I actually go to work too early to take advantage of the weekday times. Recently one of my teachers encouraged me to begin coming in on the weekends, which I took as a complimentary recognition not only of my commitment to the practice but also to my potential for improvement.

The problem is that I've recently realized that coming to Mysore has occasionally been out of a motivation to impress my teacher. This is Not Good in yoga. Yoga is not about the teacher. The teacher is a medium, but when the practice becomes about the teacher as opposed to the practice, problems can ensue.

I have a history of wanting desperately to please my teachers, dating wayyyy back to my days showing horses... then soccer... then my incredibly demanding Polish piano teacher... my martial arts instructors... for me the tendency is for my focus to gradually shift from the activity at hand to gaining approval from my teacher, and this desire begins to overtake the practice itself and eventually I burn out.

So as I sit here at home over a lovely glass of Pinot Grigio, just having finished a small dinner of whole wheat orzo with sauteed portobello mushrooms, garlic, and shrimp in a basil pesto, I am beginning to agonize over going to Mysore tomorrow morning.

It's not that I won't be awake in time. It's that for one or two days out of my week I don't want to spring into action immediately upon waking up. And I could go to a 10:30am class, but then I caught myself thinking, "Oh God, David won't see me and he'll think I've skipped Mysore..."... when really he should understand that at this point in my life, simply having a consistent yoga practice of any sort indicates quite a strong commitment on my part.

The funny thing is that David and I recently talked about this - about the danger of an individual yoga practice becoming teacher-centric - and now it's beginning to happen.. but there are two people here... and I'm going to take advantage of the fact that I've recognized this pattern in my life and try to change it.

This time next month I will be practicing yoga in the sunny Mediterranean! I got some of these just for the occasion.

In the mean time, I haven't had much to post about. I have a few friends that will be passing through town this month. Yoga, tunes, work. That's my life, for what it's worth.

Model Material?

Not exactly. But I read today that the average (if they can be called that) high-fashion designer prefers a model whose upper thighs, together, measure about 35'' around.

So, because I'm a masochist, I measured mine - 35.25''

I'm not about to change careers, but still, that made me very happy.

Potentially Disastrous Results

With the brawny member of the family in northern Michigan fishing and consistently warmer weather approaching, I was left to install my window AC unit all by myself... and let me tell you, it was not fun. I live on the sixth floor, and all I could imagine was the unit just falling, gracefully and silently to it's death on the driveway below. That would so suck.

And there were a few close calls, when the thing tipped dangerously out of the window, me still shaky from yoga with one arm trying to steady it and the other fumbling for the window itself... but after only about 15 minutes I am able to say that it is done, and done well.

I Haven't Even Taken This Year's Trip Yet..

... but I think I know where I'm going next year.

Sweden! Stockholm, then north, for the Midnight Sun.

Evolutionary Perversion?

I'm been spending some of the afternoon watching the Discovery Channel's Planet Earth series. It occurs to me that, in nature, it's often the case that the male species goes to great lengths to impress a would-be mate. It's the male peacock that displays his plume, the male bird-of-paradise who dances. In primate species, males will battle each other, the victor being he who wins mating privileges with the eligible female.

It makes sense for the female to be the chooser and for the male to meet certain standards of strength, for the longevity of the species.

In our society, though, we've perverted this: sure, some guys will maybe find themselves in a drunken bar brawl over a chick, but mostly it's the women who wear makeup and get cosmetic surgery, who style their hair and put lots of thought (and cash) into their wardrobes, mostly for the sake of being attractive to men.

Just an observation.

Sign for Faith

I had a nice Greek dinner with a friend last night, and then we realized that it would be silly to run off to yoga classes and different studios, so she just came to mine!

Apparently at her studio before class everyone is talking and laughing. My studio is all business. Purist. Serious! Mostly. And my friend J, who is a sign language interpreter, felt a little intimidated and insisted on continuing our conversation in sign language for fear of making bad first impression.

People at my studio aren't pedantic about silence. You can talk or whatever while the class before is finishing up. It's just that people don't.

It felt so good to sign... I am a little out of practice... and my yoga teacher, who is about to leave to practice in India for three months, learned that there is a sign (two, actually), for her name. Faith.

Dish

Okay, Matt, since you asked, I will provide the background to John's and my comments.

Back when I first moved to DC in 2003, a lot of us were still playing music at Nanny's in Cleveland Park. The session was on Monday nights, and it was where I met most, if not all, of my current Irish music community. The session had a few structural problems, most notably the lack of a dedicated (and paid) session 'leader' who would be responsible for enforcing basic session etiquette and generally ensuring good quality of music.

So, without the presence of a leader, the session slowly became taken over by wankers. From what I've heard, the wanker take-over began just before I started showing up, so I basically missed the Nanny's heyday, but by the time I had been in town a few months, I noticed a marked degeneration in music quality.

Unfortunately, the wanker take-over can be traced to one or two wankers. I say unfortunately because it really sucks that a few people can be responsible for the dismantling of such a cool scene.

So, most of us have abandoned the Nanny's session altogether in favor of more organized pub sessions. I'll be honest, at times the atmosphere at these sessions can be a bit staid, but that is more than made up for by the quality of music, which is consistently high.

At the McGinty's session the other week, I ended up sitting in between one of the Nanny's wankers and one other musician who used to play at Nanny's and who I don't know well but don't consider to be a wanker. Others might, but I have no problem with this guy.

So the wanker starts schmoozing in the way that makes me want to take a shower with a sandblaster to get the dirty off. He says hi to the other guy, and I become an unfortunate witness to the following exchange:

Wanker: Hi Other Guy, how have you been?
Other Guy: You're the reason I stopped going to Nanny's.
Wanker: Sorry?
Other Guy (louder): You're the reason I stopped going to Nanny's.
Wanker: Oh, is this something else I'm getting blamed for that I have nothing to do with? That seems to happen a lot.
Other Guy: If you really want to know why you get the reactions from people that you do, you should start looking in here (taps head) instead of out there (gestures to the world).
Wanker: That's really interesting. I'd love to buy you a drink sometime and talk about this.
Other Guy: No thanks, I really have nothing else to say.

Awkward for me to be sitting in the middle of this show-down! So anyway, Matt, there you have it. It's probably not as interesting as you thought it would be, just given that part of the drama is in knowing the history and personalities of the people involved. But it definitely made for some excitement.

Aside from all that, let me reassure you, pretty good tunes were had that night.

Not That I Want To

... But I guess I'll join the discussion.

Anyone with half a brain can agree to the logic that fewer guns = fewer gun crimes. But since I'm in the half of my field that practices (as opposed to theorizes), I'd like to know how to translate all this discussion into real reform.

Real reform that takes into account all kinds of things... like... how to handle the supply and demand and black market when restrictions are put into place, how to handle the increase in incarceration (and, inevitably, reentry) that comes with stricter laws, what happens to already disadvantaged communities when more people are going to jail, and what some of the social and biological causes that may predispose a person to want to use a gun to hurt another person? There must be way spot and prevent this before it even remotely gets to the point where the person obtains the firearm.

Talk is great, but as a person who deals with gun crimes every day in a city that has a ban on guns, I'd like to call on anyone who has a good idea about what to do to please, let us hear it. Because what we have isn't working, on either end of the spectrum.

Flaked Out

I had a cruel day at work today and was looking forward to a nice hard yoga class. I fell asleep after work and woke up at 5:30pm, not enough time to shake off torpor, get dressed, and hoof it to Tenleytown, but in my confused sleepy flurry, I tried. It never occurred to me to just chill out and attend the 7:15 class.

I scarfed down some whole wheat corn chips, got dressed, threw my hair into a ponytail, and ran out the door.

I took the elevator down to the basement, stepped off, and checked my watch. 5:44pm. I would be late.

I took the elevator back up to my floor and went back to my apartment. Stood in the middle of the room, felt how much I really wanted to sweat and breathe, and went back to the elevator. Stood in front of it, berating myself simultaneously for either choice - showing up late or skipping class altogether.

Realized that I was creating a far too anxiety-inducing situation for myself, returned to my apartment, took a nice hot shower, and now my only choice for the evening is whether to have tea or wine and what my next book will be.

Potentially Awkward Situation

This afternoon I was scheduled for my monthly massage. I had a few errands to run first and ended up in Tenleytown a bit early, so I decided to go to Starbucks and get a cup of tea to warm up this cold, windy, rainy day. As I was walking past a store of some kind, a few doors down from the coffee shop, a man sitting inside caught my eye. I thought for a moment that I recognized him, so when he smiled, I smiled back. Then I realized that I had just caught the eye and returned the smile of a strange man. Great.

Standing in line at Starbucks a few seconds later, I saw the guy come in, glance around, and take a seat by the window. Eeep!! I really didn't have anywhere else to go and of course he sat right by the door so I would have to walk past him to leave, so I took a seat at a small table with a free-standing sign placed strategically between he and I. In this picture, you can see the sign taking up almost the whole frame, and then the tiny shadow of his head on the wall.

I don't think the guy saw me the entire time I was sitting there and I was able to make an inconspicuous exit. Whew!

Catpix: YogaKitten

Mental Block

Lately I have been having a really hard time posting anything of substance.

Since I've been out of school I've fallen out of the habit of expressing myself through writing; it is a habit and something one must practice. I feel expressive in my thoughts and in speaking, but not in writing. So it's frustrating to try to sit and transcribe complex thoughts; I'm never happy with the outcome, no matter how often I return to my writing and revise.

Maybe my life is just routine right now. I take great satisfaction in working hard, which entails matters I cannot write about here. My personal life follows a fairly predictable pattern.

So... I don't know. How to open up?

Weekend Take Two!

Okay, I was really looking forward to last weekend but now I am really looking forward to this weekend. Being bed-ridden is not the same as getting rest, and I am still sort of worn out from fighting my awful cold.

But now I feel much better and have a three-day weekend to look forward to! The DC Government gave us Monday off for Emancipation Day. Whatever, I'll take it.

So now I am settled down to my new favorite show, the Take Home Chef (yes I am in love with Curtis) and I have a half bottle of a lovely Cotes du Rhone and a long empty weekend of shopping and yoga and naps.

Let it begin!

On The Mend

Two days of bed-rest and I am officially on the upswing. First hint: since about 1pm I've been eating non-stop. I discovered soy yogurt!

I will be back at work tomorrow and hope to be at a yoga class on Thursday. Friday for sure. It will be nice to feel back to normal for the upcoming three-day weekend.

I Need A New Body

One that's infection- and congestion-free. This cold hit me hard and fast. I felt fine all day Friday, felt fine at my yoga class, felt fine during the ten-minute walk home... and then... almost immediately upon returning home I was totally floored. I didn't even have a chance to fight it off.

I can't remember the last time I took two days in a row off of work. Well, technically I went in for an hour this morning, but I'm counting that as a day off.

Ungh... just kill me...

Weekend

Good God do I need this weekend. I'm burned out. It's going to be cold all weekend and I look forward to hours of coccooning - books, tea, blankets, thick socks, a heating pad, kittens. No people. No work. A bit of yoga. Maybe a brief foray into Adams Morgan on Saturday night to see a few friends. But in general, as little as possible. I may even shut off my computer and cell phone.

Yeah, I really need this weekend.

Hardcore (literally)!!

Somewhere near the end of the Ashtanga primary series, after we're good and sweaty and our muscles are burning and our joints have melted, comes one of the most dreaded poses: Navasana. This pose is held for five sloooow breaths, then you pull the knees into the chest - feet never touch the floor - place the hands next to the hips, and LIFT everything up. Then the legs extend into Navasana again - feet never touching the floor - for five more breaths. This is repeated five times before we move into backbends and then inversions to finish out the practice.

This evening in my class we were especially struggling with keeping straight legs in the posture. My instructor, encouraging us to relax into the posture (yeah, right) said, "If you can't keep straight legs, maybe you should take an easier class - at a different studio." On one hand, he was providing a bit of comic relief to a room full of burning muscles. On the other hand, he was inserting a thread of Ashtanga philosophy into the pose. Rigor is important.

I love it.

Metro Weirdness

So lately I have noticed a lot of people missing their Metro stops or realizing that they are on the wrong train. Unfortunately, I find this hilarious (in the most harmless possible way, of course). This happened on my train as I was heading home both yesterday and today. Could it be an ominous omen of what's to come this tourist season?

Also, a large, hand-written sign taped to the faregates caught my attention this afternoon. It said:

NOTICE - ABSOLUTELY NO STROLLERS ON THE ESCALATOR!

Heh.

That Time of Year

It's about time for my annual rant.

The weather is getting warmer and sometimes people (read: women) lose their minds a little. So let me just set a few things straight:

1. Tight clothes do not make you look thinner. In fact, tight clothes on even a very thin person can create rolls where there really aren't any, hence making you look chubbier than you are. Buy clothes that fit. Do not squeeze into the size you think you are for some deluded sense of self-worth; buy clothes that fit. Fitted and tight are not the same thing. Learn it.

2. Parasols, if pulled off properly, can be elegant and mysterious. Do not substitute a plain umbrella for a parasol in sunny weather. You look idiotic carrying an umbrella, especially one witha design, in blazing heat. I understand your wish to stay pale - SPF 45 and a cute hat should do the trick.

I am dreading the beginning of summer as people try to bind themselves into their clothes from last season that may not fit after the winter hibernation. I'm sure this rant will be continued...

Decision and Breakthrough

Today after my yoga class two of my instructors encouraged me to attend the Sunday morning Mysore class. First I will tell you what Mysore class is, then I will tell you why this is awesome!

To understand why Mysore practice is the pinnacle of Ashtanga, you should first understand one thing that makes Ashtanga different than other systems of yoga. Ashtanga is a practice involving synchronizing the breath with progressive series' of postures. A student begins with the primary series (which starts with approximately 55 postures and is taught in several chunks) and builds slowly from there. The series never changes; each Ashtanga class is the same. It happens to be one of the most physically demanding systems of yoga and the practice produces a profuse, purifying sweat that detoxifies the body and just feels really good.

The Mysore practice, named for the city in India in which the founder of Ashtanga lives, is self-led, as opposed to a normal class which is guided by the instructor. Students drop in sometime during the prescribed time, unroll their mat, and start flowing with the breath. They move at the pace of their own breath, finish at different times, and hold poses for teacher assistance if need be. This requires that the student have memorized the primary series up to their individual point, which is really important because the practice really begins to deepen only when each breath is synchronized with a movement and no energy is wasted in standing still trying to think of or be explained the next posture.

One thing I noticed in my practice tonight is that I am not very adventurous in my yoga. I have a pretty rigidly defined comfort zone (surprise surprise). So when I explained to my instructors why, for this reason, I thought Mysore to be a bit of a risk simply because of the self-led element, they both took dissenting opinions and told me that it's in Mysore that a student can really get the most focused assistance from a teacher to break through their limits because the teacher is not focused on bringing everyone out of the posture at the same time, or trying to run around adjusting every student who is holding the same pose, as they would be in a class. So the bottom line is that I'm going to Mysore on Sunday morning! The Mysore practices during the week conflict with my start time at work, so it'll be once a week for me and normal classes in the evening the rest of the time.

What I took away from all this encouragement is that they find me a dedicated student with potential to open up my practice to deeper levels given the right environment. Holla!

So that was the breakthrough. And now for the decision.

Drum roll, please....

I have decided to give up running for a while. Like, six months to start, maybe longer, in an effort to see if I can open my hips and hamstrings a little bit more. Runners are notoriously tight in this area, and even though one of my yoga instructors routinely runs 50k and 100-mile trail runs, he's just a mutant - most of the time, running and yoga don't mix if you want to be improving in either.

So we'll see how this goes...

Catpix: Cozy Natasha

Making herself at home in the lid of a shoebox.

"El Duderino, if you're not into the whole brevity thing"

Haha. I spent the morning watching one of the most hilarious movies ever, The Big Lebowski. Cracks me up.

For the first time, yesterday, I sort of missed my car. It was cold and rainy and windy all day, but the walk to yoga class was okay. However, at some point (probably while I was standing on my head or something), the rain turned to sleet and the walk home was very tenuous. All downhill. Makes for a tough time keeping one's traction.

I've got a day of shoe-shopping ahead of me and then will be heading out to a home session tonight to play some tunes and celebrate St. Patrick's Day the right way - not in a pub.

Gross

It was still raining this morning when I left for work and there were worms all over the sidewalk, so many that it was impossible to become preoccupied with not stepping on any. It was like being in a nightmare. Unnnghh.

Quick Update

Brenda is here and we are already having a fabulous time. We cruised around town this morning and did some shopping at the Eastern Market, then checked out a new bookstore up on U St. Tonight we are having an Ethiopian feast and then will spend the rest of the evening planning out our shopping routine for the rest of her visit

The weather is amazing... let's hope it lasts!

I Have Nothing To Say

I know it's been a while since my last post. My mind is empty. It was so nice over the weekend that I actually lost track of time on my run and went for five miles instead of the three I had planned. Now it is in the twenties and forecasting snow overnight. Boo!

My amazing friend Brenda is coming to visit me this weekend! I hope to convince her to stay in DC. I am one for one when it comes to these sort of attempts (my brother), so my hopes are high. Brenda and I both have a high degree of appreciation for social nuance, and we can spend hours just talking about one interaction or encounter. We took the same psychology courses in college and love to rehash those old theories. I cannot wait to have her around - I miss her so much!

Even though the sun is out, do not be fooled: the wind is gusting and the air is freezing cold. I'm going to make another mug of tea and curl up with a book until bedtime.

Did I Mention Being Disturbed

For some reason this memory came back to me a few moments ago:

Several months ago I went shopping at Victoria's Secret in Union Station. I was leaving Bras and wandering through Panties when I became a bit disturbed by two of my fellow shoppers. Picture this: a white male, late 30's, tall, scrawny, with long stringy brown hair matted under a ratty baseball cap, thin lips with a thin mustache wearing a baggy Redskins t-shirt and faded, torn jeans with dirty white sneakers. A garden-variety redneck, holding hands with a girl who couldn't have been more than fifteen-years old. She was pretty but still had some baby fat, wearing a shapeless, solid-color t-shirt and loose jeans, with one-length red hair combed straight, no makeup. I realize that some people simply look young, but the way she carried herself, how she walked, how completely uncomfortable she looked in the store, staring at the floor while being led through the racks of lingerie by her - boyfriend? baby-daddy? person she's been chatting with online and finally agreed to meet? - indicated to me that this was a girl and not a woman.

For me this brings up the Kitty Genovese issue, of which I have thought about probably too much. Kitty Genovese was chased down and stabbed to death by her ex-husband on the street in New York City while dozens of people watched but not one person called 911 or attempted to intervene personally*. Her story has prompted many a social psychologist to study how ordinary citizens react when they encounter similar situations. The outcomes are terribly disturbing. People don't help even if a woman is screaming that she's about to be raped. In one I saw recently, a shocked 234 people walked right by a (fictional) boyfriend and girlfriend who were arguing in public, and even when the guy started threaning to kill her and trying to drag her off, and the girl was screaming that she was terrified and would someone help her, it took over 45-minutes for someone - a woman - to finally attempt to intervene.

Contradicting the actual outcomes of study after study, most people in surveys tend to believe that they would help someone if they saw them in trouble. And for most of us the decision, in our heads at least, is easy if we think that someone is in imminent physical danger. But how do we define the shades of gray? Do we attempt to intervene if a couple is arguing in public? If someone is being threatened? What if it escalates to minor physical contact - a grab of the elbow, a push - or worse? What, if anything, do you do if something just seems wrong but you can't put your finger on why?

*There's another similar story that's well-known if you've studied social psychology or sociology - a woman beaten to death by her husband in their front yard while five uniformed policemen who had responded to the call for service stood by and watched, none of them able to figure out if and when the threshhold had been crossed for them to intervene in a "private family dispute."

Close Encounters

Today on my way home from work I ran into one of my yoga instructors on the Metro! How random is that? Of all the cars comprising all the trains that pass through the stations every five minutes, we ended up sitting directly across from each other.

DC is a big small town. When I first moved here I met someone at a pub playing tunes. A few days later, a friend of a friend, not having anything to do with music but knowing that I was new in town, offered to take me out for dinner. I accepted, and we went to Teaism in Dupont Circle. Finding a table, my dinner companion said, "Hold on, I see someone I know" - and it was the same person I had met at the pub. I was like, I know that person too, and everyone was very startled.

Oh no...

I think I may have found where I'll go once I decide to move on from my current job.

God, please take this away from me.

Oddities Worth Noting

A black girl and a Chinese girl speaking perfect French to each other on the Metro.

The wind blowing so hard that pieces of gravel actually found their way inside my shoes on my walk home from work.

My kitten (okay, okay, she's almost a year old), Elena, making herself comfortable in the (dry) bathtub.

Car-free = Care-free?

I did it. I turned my car back to the dealer, surrendered my tags, and cancelled my insurance. I am officially car-free!

So far I feel okay about this. In the city I have plenty of alternatives, including cars parked only blocks away that I can rent by the hour, the more obvious commercial rental cars, my bike, and (by God!) my own two feet.

This is definitely out of my comfort zone. I have only been without a car at my disposal once before in my life - freshman year of college - and obviously in a laboratory environment such as that I did fine. Here, though, it's been two days and I haven't missed it yet....

There, I Said It

Yoga, Ireland, and Christ: the three main influences in my life.

I Like to Push Myself, But I Should Cut Back

As a teenager I rode horses with one of the most respected trainers in the industry. We would show competitively almost every weekend in the summers. I got pretty good at it and ended up winning a state title at age 13.

I started taking piano lessons from a Polish woman with a several-year waiting list whose parents gave her to a music conservatory in Warsaw when she was two. She moved to the States at age nineteen, having memorized and performance-polished 23 Beethoven Sonatas. We took state piano exams and performed publicly once per month.

I started training in martial arts in high school and soon two classes per week just wasn't enough. I made it through an intense physical and mental weeding-out process to become the only female (besides his daughter) invited to train as one in a group of six at the Grandmaster's home studio.

I took up running after college and soon enough trained for and completed a 26.2-mile race.

And now I seem to have chosen to practice probably the most physically demanding and strenuous form of yoga, Ashtanga. But it must be a release. It can't become pressure. There is intense pressure at work to never make a mistake, and if I do there could be potentially serious consequences because my work influences the decisions that other people make, which in turn influences other people's lives on a daily basis. Yoga for me has to balance that out. I need to go to class ready to stretch and sweat and breathe and progress naturally, whatever that means for me. I can't let yoga become another method for measuring up (to what, anyway?). I can't let it be another venue where mistakes are forbidden. I don't want to break myself down before I can build myself back up. I want to continuously build up: confidence, muscles, flexibility.

I enjoy the rigor of an Ashtanga practice because that's what I'm accustomed to, but it must stay in perspective. Yoga has influenced my life so positively in the short time I've been practicing, I couldn't bear to burn out.

The Countdown Begins

I think I am going to turn in my car on Monday. It's a federal holiday. I'll still be able to attend a much-needed-banish-the-winter-blues Chili and Beer party way the hell up in Gaithersburg on Sunday without begging for a ride. I'll beat the actual end of my lease by 24 whole hours.

This weekend... my last hurrah until I do something marvelous like get a cute little Vespa come summer.

Pics

We went shopping on Rodeo Drive and had fun trying on Versace sunglasses until one pair looked stunning on me and I almost broke the bank.

Of course we had to see the Hollywood sign.

For whatever reason (I won't extrapolate the obvious), celebrities have their own, exclusive Scientology Center not open to the lay-Scientologists. I really don't want to get on my soapbox here, so I will simply point to Luke 14:7-14.

We had an amazing Thai meal at a gorgeous restaurant.

Finally, we got all glammed up to go to a concert. I had never heard of the band, but it is always fun to hear live music and see people enjoying it... plus the concert was invitation only, so I felt very special!

So all in all it was a very fun weekend and I'm glad we were so spontaneous! It had seriously been far too long since we had hung out. I miss you already, Trent!

LA Pictures Coming Soon!

One of the many things I appreciate about Trent is the way he mercilessly challenges the things I say and the way I think. He doesn't let me get away with anything. He isn't afraid to comment on my patterns of behavior. It's disconcerting in the best way.

I realize that I have rather rigid emotional boundaries and that my guard is way up during most of my social interactions; I think it's only because we have known each other for almost a decade that he isn't intimidated by me.

Gettin' Down to Bizznazz

Trent and I are having a great time in LA, but alas, our time together is coming to a close. He is putting the finishing touches on today's blog entry, I'm lounging in front of the TV, and soon we will have to spring into action and head to the airport.

I arrived on Friday, late, and was pretty wiped out from the time change. We were both starving and drove directly to the nearest sushi bar to rejuvenate ourselves. After that we headed back to Trent's apartment in North Hollywood and commeced the lenghy process of catching up. We had a great time reminiscing about how we met and the things we've seen each other through. It's amazing to know someone for ten years (since I was a teeenager!).

On Saturday we spent a leisurely morning hanging out at his apartment and then went off to do some sightseeing and shopping in Beverly Hills. I came very close to purchasing an amazing pair of sunglasses at Versace on Rodeo Drive... but my poor frugal spirit wouldn't allow it.

On Saturday we did some more sightseeing - the Hollywood sign - and some more shopping and generally catching up. Then that night we got all dolled up and had VIP access to an invitation-only concert which was very fun! Afterwards we went to a famous bar called The Abbey (I think every gay person in America has been to that bar at some point in their lives) and actually saw someone from one of my guilty-pleasure TV shows, Work Out. Trent knew her companion, but they were sitting together at a table alone, and didn't want to intrude to say hello.

All in all the weekend was mellow and very fulfilling. I love Trent so much! He is the only person who doesn't think I'm a nut for my Simpson's preoccupation. We took lots of pictures which I will post tomorrow.

Okay, I gotta get packed and ready to catch my flight back to cold, snowy DC.

Sunnier Times

Well, in 24 hours I will be on a nice long flight to sunny California!

I can't wait to escape the -teen degree weather that has been plaguing us here in DC.

I'm off to get a trim for my hair... next time you hear from me I'll be livin' the celebrity life, briefly.

Weirdness

Something odd is going on with my car. The past couple times I have approached my car to get in and go somewhere, it's looked different. Not the way I left it. Or things seem moved around inside.

Nothing is missing, no window is broken, I always leave it locked and secured with my Club.

But today as I was walking home from a speaking engagement at American U, I saw my car and I didn't think it was in the same place as I left it.

I mean, I'm sure nothing is really happening to my car... it's just weird...

Pushing On

I'm exhausted. And yet I push on.

In many ways I consider myself an athlete. I have endured years at a time of comparatively relentless and brutal training (in martial arts, training for a marathon, etc). And although I'm not formally engaged in combat training at the time, I still practice various forms of physical arts under the watchful eyes of professional instructors. I still try to use my body above and beyond it's natural (lazy) inclinations.

One thing that I've always thought sets the athlete apart from the casual exercizer is the athlete's propensity for training even when he or she doesn't want to. An athlete doesn't have the luxury of taking an unscheduled day off. An athlete doesn't bag a run because it's 25-degrees and snowing. An athlete recognizes the committment, both spoken and non, to an esteemed teacher.

And so I try to push on.

I love yoga for the way it encourages a turn of attention to the interior life. Much like the martial arts philosophies of which I have some experience, yoga insists that the practitioner balance, at first precariously and then (one hopes) with surrender, labor and effortlessness.

The same applies to the prayer life, the seasons of contemplation. Labor is involved, but not toil. A letting go of the will is required even as one must use some sense of discipline to wait out the inevitable moments of darkness.

Major "Aha!" Moment

A good instructor makes all the difference. In my yoga class this afternoon, with just one little word of advice and a tiny adjustment, I finally understood how to relax into Seated Half-Bound Lotus. Note: the picture you see is neither me nor my instructor, but borrowed from this site.

I had a couple of other breakthroughs, too. I love how yoga is helping to form my interior life. It also does wonders for my confidence. I love how with consistency I see improvement in my asanas each time I practice.

Yoga rocks.

O, The World!

My kittens have begun sighing. Big, heavy, rattling sighs; they turn their big eyes on me as though they're carrying something heavy on their conscience.

Unemployed free-loading loafers, I'd like to know just what in your lives is so serious.

Fragment

From tonight's episode of The Simpsons:

Random editor of a writing competition journal, upon reading the winning entry submitted by Moe: Stop the presses, buy my wife some flowers and get me an Advil! What? You don't work for me? Well, you're hired. And now that you're hired, you're fired. Now that you're fired, we can be friends. Now that we're friends, you never call - what kind of friend are you? Hangs up.

Heehee.

The Way It All Began

I am so excited to go visit Trent. I may even come home with a little surprise for you all...

This morning I was thinking about how we met, so I will tell you. I was 17, in high school, one day saw a book lecture announcement at Border's a couple miles from my house. I decided to check it out; it was on a weeknight starting around 7:30, I think. The attendance was small - five of us plus the discussion leader - and Trent was one of them, having read the book for his graduate class at U of M.

We all clicked immediately and got really caught up in our talk about the book. Before we knew it, the store had closed around us, and suddenly I saw my mom striding through the store with this worried expression! I was a bit mortified, but then I found out that it was near 11:00 and she had called the store when I didn't come home and was told that we had broken up some time ago and the store was closed. So she drove over and found my car, unlocked, in the parking lot, and thus was understandably a bit anticipatory of my whereabouts. So that is how Trent met me, my mom, and my mom's boyfriend at the time all in one night :)

And for a while she didn't like Trent (I was 17, he was 23, you know) but now she adores him, being that he has "withstood the test of time" and having become one of my most faithful and interesting friends.

I cannot wait to live the pseudo-celebrity life for a few days in sunny LA!

Contemplation

Do not be too quick to assume your enemy is a savage just because he is your enemy. Perhaps he is your enemy because he thinks you are a savage. Or perhaps he is afraid of you because he feels that you are afraid of him. And perhaps if he believed you were capable of loving him he would no longer be your enemy.

Do not be too quick to assume that your enemy is an enemy of God because he is your enemy. Perhaps he is your enemy precisely because he can find nothing in you that gives glory to God. Perhaps he fears you because he can find nothing in you of God's love and God's kindness and God's patience and mercy and understanding of the weaknesses of men.

Do not be too quick to condemn the man who no longer believes in God, for it is perhaps your own coldness and avarice, your mediocrity and materialiam, your sensuality and selfishness that have killed his faith.

--Father Thomas Merton

I'm Going To LA!

But not for another month.

My dearest friend, Trent, happens to be a celebrity blogger. Of course I knew him way back when blogs didn't even exist. In fact, his first online journal was on easyjournal.com, where you had to copy and paste from Word. But somehow he went from teaching at a swanky private school in a swanky Detroit suburb to giving Spears/Federline soundbites on CNN and weighing in on E! celebrity news shows.

His blog gets thousands of hits everyday and is sometimes even featured in the Post and the New York Times. Nicole Richie recognized him standing in line for the movies. He's famous, I'm telling you, and I knew him first and he's flying me out to LA next month!!!!

Paraphrased from my new favorite comedienne

I sometimes wish I had a degenerative disease. I already feel achy and tired all the time, but if I were actually diagnosed with something, I would feel exactly the same yet be described as courageous. I could roll out of bed at noon and people would say, "She insisted on getting up!"

Saturday Morning Cat-Nap

Telling

On the metro this morning a guy and a girl board together. At least I think they're together: despite the basically empty train car, they choose to sit together. They don't, however, talk, touch, or do anything to indicate that they are more than brother and sister. At their stop, he rises first, giving me a chance to see what she's reading: a self-help book called The Emotionally Available Man.

I dreamt last night that the metro went to India! So I took the train through snowy mountains and ended up at an underground lake broken up by caves. It was well lit and the water was very clear. Gray whales were just about to begin leaving offerings for the resident blue whale, and the person I was with showed me how to grab onto the fin and hitch a ride with the gray whale to the blue whale, streaking through the water.

Dream

A few nights ago I dreamt that I was trying to deliver a package for a man, but he wouldn't let me. We were in the car, he was driving, and he kept doing things to delay the delivery, like changing the contents of the package. Or we would pull up to the house and I was supposed to jump out and leave the package on the front porch, but he wouldn't stop all the way, just keep driving really slowly so I couldn't get out. Finally I got really frustrated and tried to jump out of the car to deliver the package but at the last second he shouted "No!" and grabbed a handful of my hair and I was like, "Okay, fine, I won't deliver it yet."

Gone and Back Again

Just had a nice long weekend in Michigan. An indulgent massage, French cafes, a pretty good film, family, presents (!), sleeping in, coffee with old friends.

It's nice to come home to two little creatures who are happy to see me, although I think it took them a few minutes to realize who I was!

I feel well-rested and ready for the week. Or, at least, ready for tomorrow.

Repetition-Compulsion

For the first time in my life I own a scale. I do not know if I like it. I can see how a person can become obsessed with weighing himself.

Sad

I've always prayed that my path be illuminated; I've never prayed that traversing it be easy.

Resolutions

1. Elevate my life to meet my tastes. This means upgrading a few choice items of furniture; purchasing clothing more mindfully and not sacrificing style for cost; revising my grocery list to reflect a physically and emotionally healthy lifestyle.

2. Continue contemplation of the classics. Devote at least six hours per week to the study of ancient Greek.

3. Rekindle my love of Irish music. Play whistle, bouzouki, or banjo at least two hours per week at home, alone.

4. Create and complete a mature reading list. Beginning with The Brothers Karamazov and continuing with classics both traditional and contemporary.

Who Has the Day Off Tomorrow??

I do! I do! I have to work on Friday but I anticipate a mellow work day going into the New Year's weekend.

That means I can go to the session tonight and have some beer! Woot!

And then on Friday evening Rob and I are driving to Charlottesville to have dinner with my dearest friend and muse, a person I haven't seen in years and miss terribly. It should be fun. I'm craving lamb.

Incidentally, and speaking of craving, Rob has a blog. He's a great writer. You'll be salivating.

The Gift of Gifts

This is a time for cultivating the inner life. I love the coming of the New Year - quiet resolutions bring hope for strength of character and spiritual growth.

Spending a quiet morning wrapping gifts. Looking forward to an elegant dinner tonight with friends and loved ones.

Poor Rob!

Thousands of people, including my dearest, are stranded in the Denver airport. Last night was Rob's second night sleeping on the floor.

Pushing On

Today I accidentally left the house for Sligo Creek Park without my watch.

I became accustomed to always running with my watch during marathon training season. That was how I kept track of my minutes-per-mile (especially important for analyzing pace during 15+ mile runs), water breaks, and cool down. When I ran my 14-mile training run - a personal distance record - in the Catskill Mountains, my training coach encouraged me by musing that my watch will be my coach for that run, and it was; it reminded me when to stop for water, when to cool the pace, how far I could expect to my turn-back point.

So even though I was only going for an easy three today, my bare wrist incited a bit of anxiety, and honestly, I didn't feel much at the top of my game. Despite the cool, sunny weather and light breeze, despite it being nice to just run, I couldn't find my stride.

Rob you would be proud

I actually cooked dinner tonight! And by "cooked dinner" I do not mean brewed tea and boiled edamame. I actually made a sauce from olive oil, butter, garlic, shallot, and red wine and poured it over whole wheat angel hair pasta topped with sauteed baby portobella mushrooms and grilled filet mignon.

I've seen Rob make that sauce a million thousand times, so I figured I ought to be able to imitate. And my god, was it scrumptious.

I also have a new coffee table. It will look better once I replace a few other pieces of furniture. Right now it looks like a pearl among swine, for lack of a better analogy.

Blonde Moment

So, ever since I moved into this apartment in June, I've been sad because the middle window in my pretty solarium wouldn't open.

A moment ago, while reading in bed, I had an idea. I got out of bed, walked over to the window, unlocked it, and pushed it open.

Heh.

Mom, you would be proud.

Tonight I broke free from my recent pattern and watched an interesting, suspenseful, and non-traumatic film, and it was great!
Aside from some major liberties taken with the plot (which can only be expected), Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train was fabulous. I'm glad I was able to find this photo, it's a great scene: When Bruno kills Miriam, the viewer watches in the reflection of her glasses, which have fallen to the ground in the struggle. I read the book over the summer as part of my breezing through every book I could find by one of my now-favorite authors, Patricia Highsmith.

So I've proved it to myself - I don't have to be left in a quivering ball to have seen a challenging, intruiging, and mysterious film.

Here's to Friday night, and a great weekend ahead!

Triple Splurge

Wow. I really can't believe myself the last two days. I am not a person known for splurging, but I really outdid myself!

First, I went bra shopping. (Sorry if this is too much information for Lorna's sensitive eyes). But seriously. It turns out I have been wearing the wrong size all my life. And let me just tell you, bras really break the bank. $50 for one!? I normally don't spend that much on a normal item of clothing. Or at the grocery store. Which brings me to the second splurge.....

One hundred and forty-five dollars at Giant! Woot! I restocked my wine rack, bought lots of greens and cheese and dried fruit and nuts and some toys for my little kittens (they're scampering around my chair as I type).

And then... a massage. Which, I've decided, will be a monthly indulgence. Fortunately, my masseur is trained in lots of cool Indian/yoga techniques, but that unfortunately means that he gets to charge an arm and a leg. Ah well... those arms and legs feel really, really (really) good afterward!

Triple Splurge

Wow. I really can't believe myself the last two days. I am not a person known for splurging, but I really outdid myself!

First, I went bra shopping. (Sorry if this is too much information for Lorna's sensitive eyes). But seriously. It turns out I have been wearing the wrong size all my life. And let me just tell you, bras really break the bank. $50 for one!? I normally don't spend that much on a normal item of clothing. Or at the grocery store. Which brings me to the second splurge.....

One hundred and forty-five dollars at Giant! Woot! I restocked my wine rack, bought lots of greens and cheese and dried fruit and nuts and some toys for my little kittens (they're scampering around my chair as I type).

And then... a massage. Which, I've decided, will be a monthly indulgence. Fortunately, my masseur is trained in lots of cool Indian/yoga techniques, but that unfortunately means that he gets to charge an arm and a leg. Ah well... those arms and legs feel really, really (really) good afterward!

Fight For Your Right

Last night my father and brother and I went to see the Washington Capitols play the Buffalo Sabres at the Verizon Center. It was a good game. The caps scored two goals in the first two minutes of the game. The Sabres got one in a few minutes later but the Caps answered in about twenty seconds. Things evened out from there, with the Caps coming out on top, 6-3.

I love watching professional hockey games live. The match-up really doesn't matter. It's just the vibe of the thing.

Which brings me to one of my fondest memories. Now that I think about it, I'm not entirely sure if these two things actually happened on the same night, but I think they did:

I was staying home alone while my mom went on a business trip. I came home from school the day that she was supposed to come home to find a note from her boyfriend asking me if I wanted to go to the Red Wings game that night. This was right in the middle of the really intense awful rivalry between Detroit and Colorado after Claude Lemieux pushed Kris Draper into the boards face first and he had to have total facial reconstruction. The next game between the two teams was an all-out brawl from start to finish. Even the goalies couldn't stay in their nets.

Well, the game that I had just been invited to was the game between the two teams AFTER the brawl, which was after the incident with Lemieux and Draper. So let's just say it was going to be a doozie.

Jim picked me up and we went to the game. I remember high-fiving him after every Red Wings goal, but I can't remember anything else about the game, or who won. Afterwards we picked my mom up at the airport. She didn't know I was coming. I think she was equally as glad to see me as she was to see Jim and I spending time together.

Now, onto a lazy Sunday, morning, seeing my dad back to Michigan, and having dinner with one of my dearest friends, the oft-weblinked, oft-blogged about journalist and author extraordinare, man of culture and reknown....

Metro Adventures

I am very much looking forward to giving up my car, which will happen in February. Although I rarely use it even now, I'm still trying to make minor adjustments in my routine to begin to acclimate myself to the change. Last night, I took metro out to Bethesda to play some tunes, and I noticed the new SmarTrip Only fare lanes! For the uninitiated, these are lanes designated for passengers who carry the plastic farecards. These cards are simply scanned over a sensor placed on top of the fare gate. The other lanes accept SmarTrip and also the traditional paper fare cards, which are fed through the gate and spit back to you. Nerdy debates abound on which method of fare paying is faster.

Anyway. The phenomenon I witnessed must have a name somewhere in the annals of behavior psychology. Everyone with a SmarTrip was lining up at the designated lanes, leaving the traditional lanes free and clear and actually faster than the SmarTrip only lanes. In theory, during rush hour, the designated lanes would be faster because there isn't that split-second wait for the machine to process the paper card.

So for some reason, people in their head knew that, given certain conditions, the designated lanes would be faster. But last night those conditions weren't fulfilled and so the lanes were actually slower.

As I breezed my thinking-outside-the-box-self through the traditional lanes with my trusty SmarTrip, I thought... how interesting is human behavior.

WHY

Why can't I just watch a normal film every now and then. Why does every film I see have to have a castration scene, or unspeakable psychological brutality, or feature the real (yes REAL) killing of an animal.

WHYYYYY??????? Tonight's feature, Cache, was actually quite interesting, save for a few scenes and the overall feeling of doom. It's just the "few scenes" that will start haunting my dreams in about two months once the content finally makes it past the censors of my subconscious.

No wonder I'm in a mild depression. I need a good comedy.

THIS ONE comes to mind... I must have watched it a gazillion thousand times growing up and it always just got funnier... Netflix here I come.

Friday Afternoon Snooze

My Kind of Thanksgiving

Marinated artichoke hearts; shimp and prosciutto in melted butter; spring greens with cranberries, bleu cheese, and a pumpkin-seed vinaigrette; cured meats and cheeses; smoked salmon; olives. A fantastic glass of Pinot Noir.

A lovely setting on the Severn River at dusk overlooking the United States Naval Academy, wait staff to clear the table, a traffic-free drive home.

Half the evening left to enjoy before work tomorrow; then the weekend.

Perfect.

Cloister

I have been in a horrible mood lately. Conversations are boring and effortful, restaurants are typical, jokes are humorless. I just want to be left alone and not have to talk to anyone. This is an unfortunate state of mind, being that my mom and her husband are in town so we've been hanging out and sightseeing. I know my grumpy mood is bringing everyone else down, I can see it happening and it's as frustrating for me as it is for my companions.

I just want to sleep for a while, three or four full nights of uninterrupted sleep, intense exersize, time alone to think and read.

I actually believe that people are happiest when living in a [purposeful, not coincidental] community, but for me that must come with a guarantee of on-demand, prolonged periods of complete privacy.

In Support of Non-Materialism

JEEZ.

Lame Lame Lame Lame

I am so lame.

So. Lame.

I really wanted to go to the session tonight. I haven't been in a while and I won't be able to go on Sunday.

But:

1. It is cold outside and my hair is wet and I don't want to come down with something right before I have my mom and John come in from Michigan.
2. I haven't been able to breathe properly today. You all know that I have a breathing thing that's not physiological or medical. I had a speaking engagement this afternoon at Georgetown University and that's when it started. And so it's difficult to think about going out and being charming and social when I can't breathe. It's a really distracting phenomenon.

But:

3. I know I haven't been to a session in a while and I don't want my friends to think that I'm ditching them (I'm not) or that I don't like Irish music anymore (I do) or that I'm just totally lame (I am).

So I really shouldn't do something just becaue of what I'm afraid people will think (hello middle school?) and I'm afraid that if I go out that I will just wish that I had stayed home.

But:

I really don't want to get (any further) into the lazy, selfish habit of isolating myself from my friends. Sure, it's easier to stay at home warm and cozy in Rob's sweat pants with tea and kittens. But music is really important to me; the community aspect is important to me. So, as usual, I'm thinking way too hard about a relatively simple situation.

I'm gonna put on some tea and crack open a new book. And chill out.

P.S. Can everyone please refrain from advising me to go to a doctor about the breathing thing? I can run miles at a time and do yoga and climb stairs and so I am not in danger of a heart attack. When I have time to actually find a physician that is not my ob/gyn then maybe I will tell him/her about the issue and get some advice. But finding a doctor is not currently high on my list of priorities.

Confession

I do not like Thanksgiving food.

Turkey is blah... and the side dishes are uninteresting. Potato-based something... cranberry sauce... stuffing... ugh.

I would much rather have a main course of duck accompanied by a spinach salad with cranberries, walnuts, and brie; stuffed portabella mushroom caps and red wine.

Chocolate mousse for dessert.

But I guess, yeah, Thanksgiving food is supposed to be indiginous to America, stuff that the first settlers would have had on hand. So my suggestions wouldn't really work. I can't help it, though, the traditional menu is just not my taste.

Domesticity

Tonight I am cooking dinner for Rob! Something other than cereal!

We are having whole wheat angel hair with chorizo sausage, kalamata olives, and shiitake mushrooms in a garlic oil sauce with garlic bread and Rob's choice of wine.

I am cooking in my pajamas because I have been dressed all day and don't feel like wearing real clothes anymore right now. I know that's probably the sign of a very comfortable relationship, but for some reason Rob thinks I look stunning no matter what (who is he looking at??).

Also, I just have to say that Pier One is having a massive sale and I got a large plate, two salad plates, and two bowls, all in a chic Asian design for $23.

John 2, 1:11

There is a fullness of time for everything, and in our fullness of time we lost our matriarch, our equestrienne, and a piece of our identity.

I think my family has a lot of prayer ahead of them and that, in itself, is a comfort.

Thoughts On Yesterday

Yesterday was the two year anniversary of my marathon. I thought I would post my race report from that day! The title was, "FINISH OR DIE!!!"

FINISH OR DIE!!
I guess I get to live another day! Thanks to everyone who kept track of me online while I was running. The thought of letting you down kept me going during some hard times. It was because of you guys that I ran hard through Haines Point and "beat the bridge" with hours to spare, making it across the 14th St Bridge before the Marines re-opened it to traffic. Those runners who did not beat the bridge were picked up and escorted by bus to the finish.
Here are some of my personal race statistics for you:
Number of miles run: 26.2
Number of runners: 18,000
Miles with Kristen and Mika: 1-3
Miles with Joe: 3-18
Miles with Jeremy (NOT entered in the marathon!): 22-23
Miles by myself: 18-22, 23-26.2
Number of times I wanted to quit: 3
Number of times I wanted to throw up: 2
Number of times I actually threw up: 0
Number of times someone in the crowd cheered me on by name: too many to count
Moment when I knew I would finish: mile 26.1
Mile when my feet started to ache: 11
Mile when knees, shins, and hips started to ache: n/a
Number of cups of water I dumped on my head: 7
Number of people in the crowd who knew me personally: 2
Runners in costume dressed as: Madonna, several witches, batman, superman.
Marine Marathon regular/famous runners I saw: the guy who runs backwards the entire way, the guy who jumps rope the entire way, the guy who runs dressed as Kermit the Frog.
Marine Marathon regulars I did not see: the guy who juggles the whole time.
Number of Marines who untied my shoes and removed my computer chip for me when done: 1
Best part of the race: approaching the 10k mark, running up the Rock Creek Parkway. The trees and changing leaves were beautiful
Worst part of the race: miles 17-20, Haines Point. Long, flat, desolate, no crowd cheering us on. And our reward for completing Haines Point was to run the 14th St Bridge - LONG, hilly, and the mile (21) where you feel like you'll never, ever finish.
Areas of body currently sunburned: face, neck, hands, forearms.

I want to send out a HUGE thank you to all the Marines who planned, organized, and executed a flawless race. They were lining the course, handing out water, PowerAde, pretzels, oranges, words of compassion and encouragement. They were polite, enthusiastic, and attentive. They were amazing. Oohrah!

Trauma

I've seen a lot of movies. I've taken film classes in college and studied filming techniques and delved deeply into specific genres and I really like movies in general.

I've seen a lot of traumatic movies and movies that have made me cry and movies that have disturbed my sleep patterns for multiple days.

This is the first time I've seen a movie with a castration scene*. I paused it three times to try to decide if I wanted to continue. I poured a glass of wine. I looked up the film's website to see if there were any disclaimers. And in the end, although a film and not real life, that particular scene, along with all the others, was deeply disturbing.

In fact, I'm not even going to link to the IMBd page because there is some sickeningly questionable content on the message boards. Content that I wonder if I should report to the FBI.

So it's off to my second glass of wine and I'll try not to inhale Rob's dinner too deeply; I still feel a bit nauseated after the whole thing.

*Now that I say that, I think I may have lied to you. There may have been a feature in my college Asian Film course that had a castration scene, but I don't remember, so I'm probably wrong.

Poor Me

I have reached the height of commitment-phobia.

Lately I have been lauding the virtues, on a strictly theoretical basis being that I haven't tried it myself, of Giant's Peapod home grocery delivery service. It seems like a really neat thing, especially for the infirm or those of us who can't manage to haul a granny cart up the street without making bloody spectacles of ourselves.

I'm so close. I'm almost there. I've selected my groceries. Even produce, and meat! I've selected my delivery time.

But I cannot. click. the. CHECKOUT. button.

I don't know why. Well, I think I know why. I don't know why! Well, let me try to explain. Ordinarily I'm all about paying for a little bit of extra convenience, and having groceries - including a big-ass bag of kitty litter - delivered directly to my door is very appealing.* But for some reason right now I'm frozen with my finger above the mouse button.

What if, for some reason, I'm not at home during the specified time range? I would never forgive myself for inconveniencing the delivery person.

And another thing which is, I guess, back to the paying for convenience part: the delivery fee is $9.95 and the minimum amount of groceries you need to buy is $50. So just in meeting the barest threshhold I'm already at TWICE my normal weekly grocery bill.**

So, here we are. I think I'll put it off. Just for another week. Then we'll try again. You have to take these things slowly, you know. Rushing in only leads to calamity.

*When you live on the sixth floor and have to park a block away, well, who wants to make two trips under those conditions?
** No, I don't starve myself; I'm a bachelor(ette).

On the Upswing

After what I now realize has been a mild depression, I'm starting to feel pretty good again. Sleeping a little less. Eating less, too, but that's conscious. Trying to play a bit more music, although my reasons for remaining in absentia on Wednesdays and Sundays have less to do with wanting to coccoon at home and more to do with an increase in yoga (Sunday) and the slight feeling that my main session has become a tad redundant. I just don't have the attention span to sit through four hours of tunes like I used to. Something needs to shake up a bit, I think.

In other news... what? There isn't much to report. The weather is getting colder and my darling kittens are the new static cling. It's going to be time to start the winter delve into academe. For some reason I have a difficult time studying in the summertime. Something about lighting a lamp in the darkness really sets the mood for me, and that's difficult to do when the sun blazes until 10pm as it does in July.

So - more Greek. The traditional revisiting of Plato and Homer. Something else, too, just not sure what yet...

Have I mentioned...

... that there is absolutely nothing more darling than a kitten who is snoring while in a deep snooze with her little face next to yours and her little paw wrapped around your arm?

Afternoon

This afternoon was beautiful, but my mind was torn between a run or a nap.

Run or nap. Run or nap.

In the past I have thought, well, I'll just lay down and then go over the pros and cons and we all know what happened then. But I have never regretted getting myself out for a turn through the neighborhood, so that's what I did.*

Then I fell asleep, woke up late with a massive headache and case of nausea but got myself up and out the door nonetheless to play a few tunes, only to come back home after 30 minutes because of said headache. Then I got home and realized that my apartment was a complete wreck - clothing everywhere, donations piled up, the kitchen all cluttered, bed unmade, a pile of unsorted mail.

Disconcerted, I stood in my doorway, and Natasha poked her little head out. She took about three steps into the hallway and staaaared for a few minutes into the abyss. This could have gone on for hours, so I nudged her back inside and began cleaning up, trying to make my home peaceful again, clean, minimal.

At this point, I feel a bit better, but still not quite right. I don't know why not.

*Read: lugged my pathetic self out for a 3.5 mile schlep

150 Things

The idea for this post was stolen from a friend, who, upon reading her list, I discovered, has never tried sushi. Completely unacceptable!

Items in bold are those to which I aswer "yes."

1. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
2. Swam with wild dolphins
3. Climbed a mountain
4. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
5. Been inside the Great Pyramid
6. Held a tarantula
7. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
8. Said “I love you” and meant it
9. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby’s diaper
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Gotten drunk on champagne
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. Had two hard drives for your computer
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched wild whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. Taken a road-trip
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow
56. Alphabetized your CDs
57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. Sung karaoke
59. Lounged around in bed all day
60. Played touch football
61. Gone scuba diving
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theater
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. Toured ancient sites
70. Taken a martial arts class
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days (not drink)
77. Made cookies from scratch
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an “expert”
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music
87. Eaten shark
88. Kissed on the first date
89. Gone to Thailand
90. Bought a house
91. Been in a combat zone
92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. Been on a cruise ship
94. Spoken more than one language fluently
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
105. Wrote articles for a large publication
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Touched a stingray
110. Broken someone’s heart
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a T.V. game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had major surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. Eaten sushi
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
129. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about
130. Gone back to school
131. Parasailed
132. Touched a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. Read The Iliad - and the Odyssey
135. Selected one “important” author who you missed in school, and read
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. Skipped all your school reunions
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written your own computer language
141. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone’s life

Musings

I need a tea straw. A long one. Because who, on a lazy, cold Saturday morning, warm in bed covered with snoozing kittens, wants to disturb everything by leaning over and taking a sip of tea?

Blood

Today I did my duty and donated a pint of blood to the Red Cross. I really like the idea of donating blood (I like the idea much more than the actual procedure), so I do it as often as I can. It helps that my workplace hosts a blood drive several times a year. But today's blood-letting turned out to be a bit of a debacle.

I went down there with a co-worker. We tend to donate blood together at these workplace drives. It's nice to have someone next to you when you're inert and bleeding for fifteen minutes at a time (although, as a female, I suppose I should be thrilled at bleeding for a mere quarter of an hour). He went in for his health interview before me. Thirty seconds later, he was pulling on his jacket and saying "I gotta go - talk to you later." I thought that was odd, but soon understood what happened.

The Red Cross people today were scary. They didn't seem to know what they were doing. They didn't speak proper English. They were slow. The health historian typed with one finger and didn't know how to spell Connecticut (my street name).

The technicians ended up having to take blood out of both my arms; my phlebologist (it's a real word, trust me) had to call for assistance during the final part of my ordeal, the filling of two test tubes, during which time she fished around with the needle inside my vein and jammed the last tube into it's receiver when the flow wasn't strong enough, causing the needle to push even farther inside my arm with no apparent guidance.

Eventually, after I feebly asked how many more times she was going to try, she gave up with that side - but in order for the pint I had just donated to be available for use, she needed to follow through with the two smaller tubes for testing. I let her use my other arm, just so it wouldn't all be for nothing, so now both my arms are sore.

I must say - being on the receiving side of [perceived] incompetent of health workers is frightening. At least it's for a very, very good cause.

Pity Party

Ugh, this is awful. I feel sloth-like and round. I went up to the roof-top terrace and did about ten minutes of lovely yoga in the soft afternoon sun and then got bored. Came back inside. Did about three more minutes and just couldn't get into it.

I feel flabby and soft. This is gross. I am a female whining about her body. Double gross.

If Only

A broken bottle of wine,
a gash on the leg.
suddenly I wish
I had driven, instead of walked,
to
the
grocery
store
.

Home Again

Rob and I just spent a fantastic weekend in my home state. A wedding, a party, some cheeseburgers, lots of Cotes du Rhone, a walk around Greek gardens, tea, sushi, Irish music, family, friends.

Now I am home and the frustrating thing about coming back to DC is that the ride from the airport to my apartment is LONGER than the plane ride from Detroit to Washington. How is that possible, you ask? Well. On the weekends, which is usually when I'm coming to and fro, I arrive at the airport spent approximately fifteen minutes gathering luggage, peeing, etc, and head up to the metro platform. I then wait approximately ten minutes for a train. Travel twenty minutes to my transfer station, and wait approximately ten more minutes for a train. Travel fifteen minutes to my station, and walk five minutes to my apartment for a total of one hour fifteen minutes as compared to a fifty minute flight.

Alas. I am home and my kittens are purring so loudly and I have fresh laundry and a whole evening to myself with a day off (Columbus Day) before me and yoga to do later.

Loooong Weekend

Tomorrow is Friday! Sort of. I have Thursday and Friday off to go back to Michigan for my mom's wedding. I am very excited about this, and also about having Monday off for a holiday!

I apologize for the lack of posting. I can't think of anything provocative to write about. Just the usual - yoga is awesome, etc.

Ohhh.... but this couple I've been watching on the metro... today he got off at her (and my) stop, Judiciary Square, and they stood by the faregates having a sort of discussion. Not really an argument with raised voice, but it definitely seemed as though there was an issue that needed urgent attention. Very interesting.