Word.

not that I need more websites in my life...

2011-01-12T15:29:00.004-05:00

Let's face it, I spend much of my life plugged in. I'm not sure how to get around this, really, and I'm not sure I'm ready (or able, or willing) to tackle the challenge of living a life with less screen time. I am, however, always on the quest to achieve more balance, efficiency, and happiness. I've come across three websites that I've found really helpful, and plan to make part of my everyday life throughout 2011.

1.) Thankfulfor.com
This allows you to keep an online gratitude journal (that you can also update via your smartphone). You can keep up with other people's journals, if you want, and have people see what you're glad about--or you can keep it private. I think it's a nice way to stay focused on the positive.

2.) Zenhabits.net
This is generally a pretty relaxing read, with some practical tips here and there. I've actually been going to this site for quite a while, and often find that it offers some interesting perspectives. The tagline of this site is "smile, breathe, go slowly"--all things I'd like to do more often.

3.) Nirvana
This is time-management software (basically a to-do list with a really nice, functional interface). It's in Beta, and free for now (looks like it won't always be). I've become really attached to it and it helps me keep track of many tasks within many projects. And it sure is satisfying to archive completed tasks.

hello, more snow

2011-01-12T15:06:00.003-05:00

So this is what's going on today. My place of employment is more or less closed (a rare occurrence), and I've been working from home since early this morning.

I'm also going to take some time to finish reading this, which I started reading out in the snowy Midwest. I think it kind of needs to be read in a snowy setting. I like coordinating the reading of certain books with my surrounding environment.

It's nice to finally have a little time to catch up on our Boston Organics produce. I've got this going in our beloved semi-new slow cooker. (I'm using a buttercup squash instead of a butternut squash--since that's what we've got.) I'm also making a sweet potato, Gruyere and rosemary quiche by adapting a recipe from Chocolate & Zucchini. And I'm doing an encore of the delicious cabbage slaw thing we made for Thanksgiving (which will help us with the enormous head of cabbage in our fridge). We get cabbage every other week for much of the year, and although I'm well aware of its health benefits, my cabbage enthusiasm is on a bit of a decline at the moment.

easy cheesy Eve

2010-12-31T16:51:00.004-05:00

As a pre-Christmas gift to Chris this year, I gave him an assortment of cheeses from the Babcock Hall Dairy Store. We've made macaroni and cheese. And beer and cheese soup. Last night, when I was thinking of what to make to bring to the NYE party we're attending tonight, my mind turned to an old standby: "cheese easies" from the Help! My Apartment Has a Kitchen cookbook. They are ever so easy, and ever so tasty (and they use up lots of cheese in no time).

Here's the recipe:

Ingredients:
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, softened
2 cups shredded Cheddar cheese
1/2 envelope dried onion soup mix (if you can't find an organic/natural mix, and don't like the MSG that's in regular onion soup mix (it gives me a headache), you can easily substitute a blend of dried onion and garlic and salt)
1 cup flour

Mix all ingredients until well-combined. (Using your hands works best.) Divide the dough into thirds and shape each into a 6-inch-long roll, about 1 inch in diameter. Refrigerate for at least an hour. Cut the rolls into 1/4-inch slices. Place on an ungreased backing sheet, leaving at least 1/2-inch of space between each slice. Bake for 10 to 15 minutes, or until they begin to brown. (Check frequently during the last minutes so they don't burn.) Great hot or at room temperature.

All packed up and ready to party.

and while we're sharing pictures...

2010-12-31T15:37:00.006-05:00

It's been a ridiculously long time since I last downloaded pictures from my camera. In the process of downloading the holiday photos, I now have a whole bunch of others that I had pretty much completely forgotten. Furthermore, because we're now in the depths of winter and I currently have a giant bruise on my thigh from where I fell into a fire hydrant while trying to traverse an enormous pile of snow (really, these things happen here), I think it's a good time to take a look back. In between all of the wedding planning, there were lots of great adventures.

The photo doesn't really do it justice, but this was an amazing exhibit (featuring some Wislawa Szymborska poetry) on the exterior of the ICA. This outing started with a fantastic dinner at Lucky's, which has remarkably good clam chowder.

a fantastic day at the Harbor Islands

another visit to the deCordova; I love it every time

Berkshire Botanical Garden

an incredibly beautiful and joyful July wedding

There were also birthday parties, an extremely fun baby shower, lots of beach trips, and dozens of ice cream cones. Remembering these times really gets me through the frosty, foot-numbing months.

images from a Wisconsin Christmas (in no particular order)

2010-12-31T15:15:00.006-05:00

Christmas dinner (which was very Thanksgivingish--which is not a bad thing)

Of course we had to buy cheese curds. You'll notice the little cartoon cheese curd playing a concertina--I mean, obviously--any other instrument would just be silly.

We took a lot of walks, which mostly looked like this.

the beautiful tree

our stockings (I decorated mine & was very proud of it)

Stanley joined us in our holiday festivities.

borscht + kielbasa + rye bread = a very merry Christmas Eve

poinsettias at Como Park Zoo and Conservatory (technically in Minnesota)

Preparing for the New Year

2010-12-29T10:27:00.002-05:00

As I’ve probably mentioned in the past, I’m a little resolution-obsessed. (The lists! The goals! The self-improvement!)

I’m also more than a little healthy living magazine-obsessed (I subscribe to three publications under this genre—magazine subscriptions are so dirt cheap these days), and in one of them, I recently read about the idea of replacing traditional resolution-making with more of a “year-in-review” and a look ahead to what you want throughout the coming year. I’m going to give this a whirl. It’s been a heck of a year (to say the least), and I feel like there’s a lot I haven’t really processed yet. (Which needs to happen, if I’m going to get around to all of the things I want to do in the swiftly-arriving year.)

So, I spent most of this year planning a wedding. I spent Oct. 3 actually getting married. I spent the months that followed trying to get used to the whole thing and wrap my mind around it all. And also, my normally healthy body kind of freaked out. (It may have been the not eating and sleeping that happened in the days leading up to the wedding—I honestly wasn’t really that stressed or worried and the wedding was pretty uncomplicated as weddings go—but my body seemed to not understand that.) I had a whole ear situation (aching, pressure, leaking fluid—you get the idea), that was diagnosed as a slight infection right before Thanksgiving. Then seven days into taking the amoxicillin, I developed a tremendously red, swollen, itchy rash covering 90% of my body—which led to the discovery that I’m now allergic to amoxicillin. The rash is totally gone, the ears have stabilized—but I’m only just now beginning to get my bearings again. So the first few months of marital bliss have been filled with cans of sinus cleansing spray and brown translucent pill bottles and hours spent waiting in medical reception spaces. Isn’t it romantic?

Work has been really busy throughout the whole time and is just now presenting a tiny bit of breathing space that I’m using for planning and strategizing and regaining my sanity. True story: when I was trying to find the nurse practitioner (in the medical center right near my office) who would verify that, indeed, my skin was demonstrating an allergic reaction, I got a little lost and wandered over to the mental health/counseling area. It was noticeably calm there—with quiet music and soft beige carpeting. A woman (who appeared to be staff) kindly redirected me down the hall, walking me part of the way. Although my skin felt like it was on fire (and had for about 24 hours at that point), for about five minutes, I noticed myself relaxing. Breathing.

Anyway, things are better now. We just got back from a trip to the Midwest to hang out with some of Chris’ friends (who are all really great) and to spend Christmas with his family. I’ll admit, I was a little homesick (this was my first Christmas not with my family in Massachusetts). Our families are very different in some ways, and our traditions are also very different. (Because I married someone awesome, he went to Mass with me on Christmas Eve and helped me make borscht when we got back—carefully stirring the vinegar into the beets until his parents’ kitchen really smelled like Christmas Eve to me.) I think what matters the most is how we shape our own traditions (as our own little family) going forward—which will consist of some of mine, some of his, and some we make up as we go along.

So, I am back again and hoping to blog more in the new year. I won’t “resolve” to do so, because that’s just going to stress me out big time. (And less stress is something I’m actively pursuing.) But I am visualizing more blogging. More writing, more photos, more thoughts.

P.S. A little housekeeping note—as you’ve likely noticed, I’ve reworked this blog eight ways to Sunday with a variety of central topics and tags and designs. In the process, it appears some (many) of my archived posts don’t show up in the index in the right rail anymore. They’re still alive and available, but just not via that particular location. So if you want to read about that awful date that time or that delicious thing I cooked, you might need to do some digging. (And I imagine you have way more interesting things to do anyway.)

three months...

2010-07-06T09:46:00.001-04:00

This blog, and other blogs I’ve done before it, have seen me through many phases of my life. There were the single & dating days, when I had plans almost every night of the week and was so busy I could barely breathe (but somehow found time to talk about it all). There were (are) the in-a-relationship days, when I was somehow still really busy and learning how to use my fiance’s favorite kitchen appliance (yes, the pressure cooker—I really do love it now and it has become the go-to appliance for just about everything). And now I am in the I’m-getting-married days—we’re less than three months away, in fact, and life is feeling like every bit the crazy whirlwind you’d expect. And what do I find myself doing when I have no time? Well, blogging, of course.

The planning of a wedding can be a fairly overwhelming task (really, multitudes of little tasks that all kind of pile up). But also, I think the whole wrapping my mind around the fact that I’m about to become a married person is also kind of a big thing—and not really something anyone talks about. (Particularly what it means to become a married person when you’re in your mid-thirties and will be participating in what many consider a type of transition into adulthood—when you’ve already been an adult for a long, long time.) So, in preparation (and in my own attempts at sustaining sanity) I’ve been doing a bit of reading. Below are my three favorite wedding/marriage-related reads:

Marriage, A History: How Love Conquered Marriage by Stephanie Coontz
This really puts things in perspective, taking a long view at the institution of marriage and all its complexities (including the fact that only until the last couple of hundred years, marriage didn’t have much to do with love at all). A very interesting read.

Altared: Bridezillas, Bewilderment, Big Love, Breakups, and What Women Really Think About Contemporary Weddings by Colleen Curran (editor)
A series of essays from a wide range of women on their wedding experiences. Many are funny, some are moving, (some are a little annoying), and all offer different perspectives.

The Green Bride Guide by Kate Harrison
Much more my speed than most wedding books (that just cause me to wonder WHO IN THE WORLD WANTS TO SPEND THAT MUCH ON ONE DAY?!), this is a fun read with good tips about how to have an environmentally/socially conscious wedding. We are incorporating a few of the ideas into our own big day. Also, speaking of sensible, practical wedding advice, one of my bridesmaids (who got married years ago) passed on this, which is also a fun, helpful read.

[unintentional & hopefully brief] hiatus

2010-03-03T09:23:00.003-05:00

So I did some pressure cooking around Valentine's Day (yes, last month at this point) that I have yet to post (but will, eventually), and I've mostly been spending my time working, thinking about work, and having very elaborate wedding dress nightmares. I've also fit in some time at the gym and a generous splash of socializing. I'm in that "life is a blur" zone, which is kind of overwhelming, but I know it could be much worse in about a dozen ways.

An interesting side note: I spent some time last week going through some of the crazy pile of e-mails my main non-work e-mail account has acquired over the years, and it provided further evidence that, good grief, I sure did go on a lot of dates before hunkering down into my current state of engagement. Seriously. It was interesting to read through the trails of e-mails of different dating adventures (some good, some very NOT GOOD), remembering the exhilaration and the exhaustion. I kept putting myself out there, over and over (and over) again--even though, often, not much was gained but a weird/funny story to pass on to my friends.

Anyway, I'm heading to Colorado tomorrow on a quick vacation, and I am really enjoying this Wednesday that is more like a Friday. (Well, not the aspect of cramming five days of work into three, but it will happen, somehow.) A little time away in some fresh air will be good.

Learning to Love My Pressure Cooker, Vol. 8

2010-02-10T21:04:00.007-05:00

For Super Bowl Sunday, Chris & I decided to have a few of his friends over. We don't follow (or really understand) football, but we've been wanting to make ribs in the pressure cooker and it seemed like the perfect occasion. We used the recipe in "Cooking Under Pressure", which is easy-to-follow and involves making a very delicious, homemade barbecue sauce.

Ingredients:

The recipe instructs that you can reduce the sauce if you'd like (after cooking everything in the pressure cooker), which we did. (We doubled the recipe, since we wanted to make sure we had enough ribs to go around, so there was quite a lot of sauce.) Shot of the sauce reducing:

The outcome:

The meat was extremely tender and delicious--it really does fall right off the bone. We didn't glaze the ribs with sauce (I think this can get too messy) but let people spoon some onto their own portions. I would definitely make this again.

Learning to Love My Pressure Cooker, Vol. 7

2010-02-10T20:44:00.005-05:00

Okay, so I have some serious blogging catch-up to do. A few weekends ago, I was going to a lunchtime potluck at a friend's house and needed to bring an appetizer. I decided to try the basic bean dip/spread recipe from "Cooking Under Pressure" by Lorna Sass.

The ingredients:

The recipe really just involves cooking the (dried) beans in the pressure cooker and then mixing in all the other ingredients and blending to a desired consistency. I used small white beans, which needed about twenty minutes under pressure to get nice and soft.

All packed up for potlucking:

The outcome: I brought this to the potluck, along with Triscuits and baby carrots. It was tasty and well-received, by adults and toddlers alike. I'd like to try out the recipe with different types of beans.

Learning to Love My Pressure Cooker: Vol. 5 & 6

2010-01-24T20:01:00.007-05:00

I’ve got a bit of pressure-cooking catching up to do. Last night Chris and I decided that we really needed to deal with our refrigerator drawer full of root vegetables; we still had a lot of them, and we have another Boston Organics delivery coming our way in a few days. (Really, the root vegetables are never-ending these days, and since we get the local produce option, it's pretty much going to be all root vegetables for the next couple of months.) We decided to make a root vegetable puree as an accompaniment to some pork chops (inspired by a parsnip puree I recently had with some scallops at a great new (to me) restaurant). This involved my favorite kind of cooking--without a recipe. (This is why I’m not much of a baker, or a knitter for that matter--not following directions makes me feel liberated.) Below is a general description of what occurred.

Root vegetable puree

Ingredients:
A few carrots
A few parsnips
A large turnip
A butternut squash
Generous dashes of salt, black pepper, and ground sage

Peel and chop all ingredients. Place in pressure cooker with some chicken (or other) stock (maybe a cup and a half). Cook under pressure for five minutes. Cool cooker at once.

The outcome: This turned out really great. The carrots and squash gave this an electric orange color, not to mention lots of vitamins. Today we added some stock to the leftovers to make an excellent soup, perfect with some grilled cheese.

***

Tonight we decided to finally use the pressure cooker to make something not in the soup/stew family. I’ve been looking at the recipe for soy chicken in the little book that came with the pressure cooker--seemed like it would actually be simple enough for a weeknight, but it looked tasty enough to make a nice Sunday dinner. (I like a nice Sunday dinner; it's always a good way to conclude the weekend.)

Soy Chicken (4 servings)

Ingredients:
4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
½ cup water
¼ low sodium soy sauce
½ cup sliced mushrooms
½ onion, sliced
½ cup sliced celery
3 tablespoons brown sugar

Place all ingredients in cooker. Close cover securely. Place pressure regulator on vent pipe and cook 4 minutes with pressure regulator rocking slowly. Let pressure drop of its own accord.

The outcome: Simple and very delicious. Next time I think I'd add a little cornstarch to thicken the sauce and make it cling to the chicken. We also made mashed potatoes (in the pressure cooker, before the chicken), which was great with the sauce and mushrooms.

Learning to Love My Pressure Cooker, Vol. 4

2010-01-10T19:25:00.006-05:00

On Sunday nights I usually like a bit of a cooking project, something a little more labor-intensive (because I usually have time, and it's especially worthwhile if it yields a lot of leftovers for lunches and freezing). Chris and I decided to try the beef stew recipe from Cooking Under Pressure.

Here are the (quite numerous) ingredients (the wine in the back was used for drinking, but not in the actual stew):

The recipe calls for parsnips, for which we decided to substitute rutabagas, since that's what we had from our Boston Organics box (seemed silly to buy parsnips when we had a completely reasonable root vegetable option)--but I think we used too many potatoes (in our enthusiasm to use up our enormous potato supply) and our 6-quart pressure cooker started to look really full (so we omitted the rutabagas anyway).

Just 16 minutes at high pressure resulted in a stew that looked and smelled like it had simmered for hours.

The outcome: This was truly fantastic. The meat was incredibly tender, and the carrots and potatoes really softened. The seasonings listed in the recipe worked well, but I still added quite a lot of salt and pepper at the end. In the future I might experiment with using some red wine or some dark beer in this.

Learning to Love My Pressure Cooker, Vol. 3

2010-01-07T19:44:00.006-05:00

Tonight's dinner was mostly dictated by the fact that we have some potatoes and leeks that are probably nearing the end of their edibility span. It seemed like an ideal time for some potato and leek soup (which is one of my favorites--although there probably aren't too many kinds of soup I don't like), and I found a very easy pressure cooker recipe for it in Cooking Under Pressure (20th Anniversary Edition) by Lorna Sass. (One of my two new pressure-cooking cookbooks that I am studying like textbooks.)

Below are the ingredients (not including salt, pepper, and the dollop of sour cream I added at the end, because I am somewhat addicted to sour cream):

The outcome: This came together very quickly and is a great weeknight meal (especially on a cold night). I think the fresh dill (stirred in at the end, and then I used more as a garnish) really adds to this soup.

Learning to Love My Pressure Cooker, Vol. 2

2010-01-03T18:57:00.006-05:00

Tonight’s pressure cooker creation was inspired by the fact that we keep getting heads of cabbage in our Boston Organics box. We get a box of local produce every other week, and just about every week, no matter what time of year, we get a head of cabbage (sometimes a tremendously enormous head of cabbage). I’ve made slaws, stuffed cabbage, an assortment of soups--and I’m beginning to run out of ideas. (Really, despite my Polish-American heritage, I'm getting tired of cabbage!) So we took a cue from the little booklet that came with our Presto 6-quart pressure cooker, and decided to try out a recipe for cabbage with apples.

Cabbage with Apples

Makes 6 servings

Ingredients:
8 cups shredded cabbage
1 small onion, thinly sliced
1 small tart apple, peeled, cored, and chopped
½ cup chicken broth
2 tbsp. frozen apple juice concentrate, thawed
salt and pepper to taste

Add all ingredients to cooker. Close cover securely. Place pressure cooker regulator on vent pipe (Note: I had to have this explained and demonstrated) and cook 4 minutes with pressure regulator rocking slowly. (Note: In the interest of full disclosure, the pressure regulator wasn’t really “rocking slowly” and it sounded kind of like a locomotive and I hid in an adjacent room while Chris kept an eye on the pressure cooker, which, happily, did not explode. It will, admittedly, probably be a while until I can pressure cook with confidence.) Cool cooker at once.

The outcome: We made this as a side dish with broiled pork chops. It came out incredibly silky smooth and very mild and tasty. I think you could also have this as a (vegetarian) main dish if you mixed in some egg noodles. The tartest apple we had available wasn’t really quite tart enough, so next time I think I’d make sure to use a very tart apple or throw in some vinegar to add a little zing and cut the sweetness a bit. Over all, though, this was simple and delicious--not to mention very nutritious and pretty good, snowy-weather comfort food.

Learning to Love My Pressure Cooker, Vol. 1

2010-01-01T20:37:00.019-05:00

One of my goals for the year is to develop a good relationship with the new pressure cooker that Chris and I have acquired (as a Christmas gift from his parents). Chris has long talked about getting a pressure cooker, but I've been reluctant, mainly because I'm afraid that using one will result in some sort of kitchen disaster (explosions, steam burns, pureed vegetables spattered all over the ceiling). His mom, though, has long sworn by the speed and efficiency of a pressure cooker, using it to steam artichokes and make tasty soups (such as a great butternut squash and apple soup that she made when we visited for Thanksgiving). So, after taking the pressure cooker out of the big cardboard box in which it arrived, I decided that I was ready to take it on. (Well, sort of--there will likely be some cowering in other rooms as the pressure cooker shakes and releases scary bursts of steam--at least for a while.

My plan is to cook at least one dinner a week in the pressure cooker, and then report all about it. After a bit of looking online, it seems like not many other people are really blogging about pressure cooking at the moment, probably because slow cooking is still really in the spotlight, and also maybe because pressure cooking is sort of scary. At least it is to me, at the moment. (But maybe not by the end of the year.)

The first recipe that caught my eye was for African sweet potato & peanut stew (from www.fatfreevegan.com). Below is the recipe (slightly adapted).

African Sweet Potato & Peanut Stew

Makes 6-8 servings

Ingredients:
1 onion, chopped
2 jalapeños, seeded and finely chopped (optional)
2 teaspoons minced fresh ginger
1 teaspoon minced fresh garlic
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/2 tsp. salt
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper
¼ tsp. ground coriander (forgot to put it in the picture)
2 ¼ pounds sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 ½- inch chunks
2 14.5 oz. cans chopped tomatoes
2 14.5 oz. cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 pound green beans, cut in 1-inch pieces (fresh or frozen)
1 ½ cups vegetable broth
¼ natural peanut butter

1. Add to a 6-quart pressure cooker: onion, jalapeños, and 2tbsp. water and cook over medium heat (no cover) about 8 minutes or until tender, stirring occasionally and adding water if needed. Then stir in ginger, garlic, cumin, salt, cinnamon, crushed red pepper, and coriander, and cook one minute (stirring).

2. To onion mixture in pressure cooker, add tomatoes with their juice, sweet potato chunks, chickpeas, broth, and peanut butter. Following manufacturer’s directions, cover pressure cooker, bring up to pressure, and cook under pressure for 5 minutes. Quick-release pressure as manufacturer directs. (Note: This is kind of scary if you’ve never used a pressure cooker before.)

3. Add green beans to pressure cooker. Return to heat and cook, covered (Note: I actually did this uncovered), until beans are done, about 10 minutes. Quick-release pressure and add any additional seasoning as needed.)

Regular stove-top directions:
Place 1/3 cup water, onion, jalapeños, ginger, and garlic in a large pot. Cook, stirring occasionally for 5 minutes. Add cumin, cinnamon, salt, red pepper, and coriander. Cook and stir for minute. Add sweet potato chunks, tomatoes, chickpeas, green beans, vegetable broth, and peanut butter. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 30 minutes, or until potatoes are tender.

The outcome: This turned out even better than I expected, and was a huge success. It may have been mostly the cumin, but this stew made the whole apartment smell amazing. I might use just one or no jalapeños to make it a bit milder (I liked the heat, but it might not be for everyone). A dollop of sour cream really helps balance out the heat. I’d definitely make this again, eventually--but in the meantime, I’ve got lots of new recipes to try out and lots of pressure cooking to do.

ice sculptures and scissorhands

2010-01-01T18:23:00.006-05:00

My favorite Boston traditions include looking at the sand sculptures at Revere Beach in the summer and the ice sculpture in Boston Common and Copley Place in the winter (on New Year's Day, to be specific). So today I took yet another walk among the ice sculptures. It was cloudier than last year (there's another storm heading this way), but much warmer.

And, in keeping with the ice sculpture theme, Chris and I watched "Edward Scissorhands" on DVD, which I hadn't seen in 10+ years and barely remembered (except for the amazing ice sculpture scene). It's one of those movies that I think you just appreciate on a whole different level when you watch it as an adult.

Off hiatus

2009-12-30T18:27:00.001-05:00

So here I am on this lovely (actually, frigid) New Year’s Eve eve and I’m tending to one my favorite annual traditions: the finalizing of my New Year’s resolutions. (Yes, there is finalizing involved, preceded by brainstorming, drafting, and revising.) I’ve been doing this since I was five (yes, a kindergartener can find areas for self-improvement) and I just can’t get enough of it.

I am of two minds about New Year’s resolutions. I usually end up trying to craft very specific, measurable, reasonable action items. The upside is that these are generally achievable and practical--the downside is that the whole thing ends up being a massive, year-long, to-do list—which, in addition to my daily and weekly work and non-work to-do lists, is a massive bucket of overwhelm.

Having come to this realization, I’m keeping this year’s resolutions on the light side. Among the few more concrete items on the list, I’m aiming to get back on board with this poor, lonely, abandoned blog. I have plans to give this blog the kick in the butt and steady attention it deserves.

My main objective this year is to just, in the words of the kids these days, chillax a bit. I want to try to relax a bit more and just appreciate and live in the moment. I’ve always been pretty bad at this. I spend a lot of time analyzing and ruminating and planning (hence the multi-decade obsession with New Year’s resolutions) and just plain stressing out. Sometimes I get so stressed out that I realize I’ve spent the last three seconds or so not actually breathing. Thinking and planning are, of course, good and important (and are kind of at the core of my being)--but obsessing over everything and worrying about the future to excess are, well, not good—and, in fact, according to all the evidence I’ve seen, they can be pretty bad for you.

More than ever, I’m beginning to feel like time is just moving very quickly. It’s probably a bi-product of getting older, but suddenly, I look around and feel like, in a flash, everything has changed. A number of my friends are having or have just had babies. I’m in the process of planning a wedding (my wedding; I have an actual fiancé, and it is all one big freakish (in a good way) adjustment). My much-younger-than-me brother is turning 25 next week. One of his best friends is in the Army and is heading to Afghanistan in January. Everyone is getting older and everything is always (and always will be) changing. And really, I find all this change and constant turning and churning of the universe pretty stressful, but I’m choosing to not be stressed out about it. I’m also choosing to not be (overly) stressed out about work. I’m going to do what I can about the big and small stresses the world presents, but beyond that I’m going to try (and this will be hard) to just not worry myself into oblivion. I’m going to cut myself a little more slack, slow down a little, and just chillax and focus on the present. I’m going to try to feel the Zen in ’10.

on hiatus (not sure whether it will be temporary or permanent)

2009-11-23T09:09:00.002-05:00

So, clearly, this blog is not really happening anymore. I may be back, at some point, or I may morph this into some other blog. But as for now, there is really no time for blogging.

2008 and 2009 have been pivotal years for me. Major new boyfriend, major new job, and now (as of Labor Day weekend) the boyfriend has evolved into a fiance (!) and the job continues as a nice, stressful counterpoint to the emerging wedding planning. Not a lot of time to reflect on or write about the magnitude and intensity of all. Just trying my best to keep up with it all.

My realities on this steamy, August day

2009-08-11T09:50:00.002-04:00

(1.) The swelling in my left hand ring finger has subsided, and it is back to its normal petite size. Late last week it was swollen to a ridiculous degree, so that where there are normally wrinkles (on the bendy, knuckle part) it was just smooth and puffed out. Typing without use of that finger was quite a challenge. (I did take pictures, but I’ll spare you.) Considering this incident and the Great Swollen Feet Debacle of ’07 (in which I eventually crawled down my apartment’s stairs into a cab and went to the nearby hospital, where the attending nurse commented, “Holy crap, your feet are HUGE!”), I think I might have some version of Skeeter Syndrome.

(2.) My boyfriend is really top-notch. I texted him mid-day on Sunday (he was at work--lots of weekend working happening these days) and requested a watermelon. (I was having a craving and it’s the one thing I really hate buying, since I don’t have car and if I carry home a watermelon, I can’t really carry anything else.) He brought home not a small watermelon, not a medium-sized watermelon, but a gigantor specimen of melonness. I’ve been eating watermelon with every meal since then, and yet about 75% of the monumental melon remains.

(3.) I am missing John Hughes something fierce (I mean, as much as you can miss someone you never knew). His ‘80s movies informed everything I imagined about romance as a ‘tween--and yes, I very much expected my true love to come in the form of a slightly-mulleted high-school senior who would whisk me away from a family wedding and present me with a glowing birthday cake as we sat atop his parents’ expensive glass table. Or maybe he would come in the form of the bad boy with whom I would spend a whole, crazy day of detention (detention for what, I don’t know--as I was so squeaky clean--but maybe I could somehow get detention for doing too much homework). And even after I grew up and realized that love doesn't necessarily work this way, I still had a fondness for his movies. His films, although so very ‘80s, were also timeless. (Even my brother, who graduated from high school in 2003 and has no idea who The Bangles are and why they matter, finds relevance in “The Breakfast Club.”) There was just a heart and an empathy there that isn’t in a lot of other teen cinema.

The view from the other side

2009-07-16T20:35:00.002-04:00

As I think I’ve mentioned previously, long before I had this blog, I had a dating blog. It was a way for me to share stories about the insanity of it all—the endless online dates, the singles events, the extensive and (it seemed) never-ending quest filled with equal parts hope and disappointment (and a whole lot of wine). It was my way of attempting to make sense of it all—relating the often exhausting series of events as anecdotes, and, sometimes, rants, that helped to keep me going. I logged my efforts, detailed the disappointments, tentatively rejoiced the fleeting victories.

I stopped doing the dating blog when I reached a point at which I didn’t feel like continuing to share in this level of detail about this aspect of my life (in part because I was confused myself about how I felt about a certain relationship, and I didn’t want to try to work it out online, regardless of how few readers were actually keeping tabs on me and my dates). After that I kept on dating, undocumented, one online profile at a time. I found new singles events to attend. I revisited the possibility of getting back together with an ex to make sure there was really, truly, no chance that things might work out. (There wasn’t.) I reflected, I strategized, I scrutinized my decisions, I meditated, I vented, I wandered through supermarkets late at night debating whether to strike up conversations about cake mix with men who appeared to maybe, possibly be single. I kept trying.

And now, as you know, things are different. The days of scrolling through screen after eyeball-aching screen of dating profiles seem to be in the past now. It’s, of course, a happy time. In some ways, it’s more than a little weird, but in other ways, it feels like it has always been this way. But I want to make sure I don’t forget how it was before, how it was all those days (months, years) of wandering, venting, trying. The strength that helped me get through those times will likely help me get through other challenges. I also want to remember the joy and peace I was able to find in being alone sometimes, because independence and a good dose of selective solitude are important to me. I empathize with my friends who are in the dating boat because I was in that boat for a good, long time--and again, I don’t want to forget. A friend with whom I had longed shared dating horror stories--and who started dating someone really great around the time I met Chris--recently said that her long years in the dating trenches make her really appreciate having found her boyfriend. It’s true, challenging times make you not take the successes for granted (which sounds like something from one of those horrible motivational posters with an eagle perched on a mountaintop, but I can’t help myself). I think at every point in life it is good to look back, see how far you have traveled.

um, so, sorry about June

2009-07-16T20:33:00.001-04:00

Dear summer,

You sure took your sweet time getting here this year. I’ve mostly forgiven you, since June was a particularly demanding month for me at work, and the daily slog almost seemed to go perfectly with the daily fog (and rain and cold and drizzle). The 4th of July (often my favorite holiday for its endless sunshine and smoky grill smell) felt more like a crisp, breezy September day (which is perfectly enjoyable in its own right, but there will likely be more of that in due time). But still, I’ve let these grievances go, since now, you are here. The sun is shining, I have walked barefoot on warm beach sand, wandered into frothy, salty waters, and combed the shore for perfect white clam shells and weathered sea glass. I hope you plan to sit back, stretch out, and stay for a while.

Yours,
Cantabrigie

I implore you to see this movie.

2009-05-19T09:08:00.003-04:00

Really, as much as I will ever implore anyone to do anything, I'm telling you: if you haven't already, you must see "Lars and the Real Girl." I know I've said it before, but I'm saying it again. It's just one of those movies that is so much more than it seems to be in the trailer. Yes, it is about a man who buys a mail-order, um, erotic doll--but it isn't really about that (at least not in the ways that you'd think). I won't say more, because I don't want to give anything away, but I watched this movie for the second time over the weekend and was reminded of its originality and emotion. (Chris may or may not have gotten misty-eyed toward the end--I will neither confirm nor deny.)

The Buddha of Healing

2009-05-19T08:54:00.002-04:00

Note: I've had Japan on the brain lately--I tend to get into patterns in which I consume movies and foods and books around a particular theme, and sometimes that theme is Japan. I've also had my brother on the brain, as I just went to his grad program graduation and he also left his shoes at my apartment for me to trip over on a daily basis. Therefore, I am posting this short essay (which encompasses themes of both Japan and my brother) that I wrote back in the winter.

The streets of Tokyo were slick with rain as my brother and I walked to the train station. We walked through the clean, sprawling station until we found the platform for Kyoto and sat on a bench. My brother studied a map and drank cold green tea from a can, more content than I had ever seen him at 5:00 in the morning.

It hadn’t rained since a week ago, when we first arrived in Japan. It had been raining while we were on a bus to Tokyo from the airport in Narita, observing green, watery expanses separated by stone paths—our first glimpses of rice paddies.

With the lone exception of a trip to Canada when he was four, my brother had never traveled outside of the U.S. Although we had shared a backseat on many a family roadtrip, we had never traveled alone together. Nine years older than him, I had held him on the day he was born, a wobbly bundle placed into my lap. On summer trips to the beach when he was a little boy, I would pick him up when the waves knocked him over. And, when he had emergency surgery two years before our trip to Japan and showed me the long column of staples on his abdomen, I had pretended to be strong.

Now we were 29 and 20, and the significance of our age difference had begun to dissolve. We were visiting our cousin in Tokyo. As we explored this new world, he often held the map, navigating the way as I followed. Children and teenagers took pictures of us, fascinated by the tall, fair Westerners who spoke the Japanese of a toddler. They also didn’t seem to notice the truth of our ages or relationship. A teenaged girl in a school uniform had told us, “You make a great couple!”

As the train sped toward Kyoto, the view through the window a blur of rooftops, I read in my guidebook about Toji Temple, known for the tallest wooden pagoda in Japan. The temple buildings held statues of Yakushi Nyorai, the Healing Buddha, believed to provide well-being and protection.

When we arrived at the enormous Kyoto Station—which housed a shopping mall, hotel, and offices—we followed signs toward exits, but kept circling back toward train platforms. We asked strangers the ambiguous questions, “Soto? Doko?” or “Outside? Where?” We eventually worked our way through a labyrinth of passages and escalators until we reached an exit.

Once we were outside the station, we could see its enormous, angular structure of reflective glass and steel. We looked at our map and observed that Toji Temple, Umekoji Park and a few other places we had read about were all in the same direction, a few blocks away.

We soon found ourselves walking along a two-lane highway past industrial buildings and residential streets with no signs. We asked everyone we encountered, “Toji Temple? Doko?” But Toji literally meant “eastern temple,” and Toji Temple was southwest of the station. We lacked enough fluency in Japanese for this not to be a problem.

We walked, the air warm and stagnant, not knowing whether we were going in the right direction. Feeling the heat of the late morning sun, we carried the coats and umbrellas that we had needed earlier in the morning.

“I think it’s this way,” my brother said, after studying the map again.

We heard the sound of gravel kicking up behind us and saw an old man on a bicycle.

“Ohayou!” he said to us in a happy, singing voice. He slowed down and stopped beside us.

“Toji Temple?” we asked.

“Ah, Toji-san,” he said, as if remembering the name of an old friend. He gave us a series of directions in Japanese. I listened for the words for “right” and “left,” but didn’t hear anything familiar.

After walking another quarter of a mile, we realized he was following us. We weren’t sure where we were going, but we continued to walk beside a long bamboo fence. Whenever we looked behind us, the old man held out one arm to direct us. Suddenly, we reached a small brown and white covered gate, the door open. I saw a tall pagoda stretching above some maple trees. The man pointed to the gate and said, “Toji!”

We thanked him and he bowed before continuing down the road. We walked through the gate onto the temple grounds and saw the main hall, its curving roof reaching out toward us. A nearby wall was covered with white blocks of wood inscribed with prayers. I imagined what prayers the blocks held, what words they revealed about struggle and hope and family.

Cape Cod in May

2009-05-17T15:29:00.005-04:00

A couple of weekends ago (yes, I can't keep up with myself anymore) Chris & I went to Cape Cod for a long weekend vacation. It was very relaxing and almost made it slightly less painful to return to the hundreds of e-mails waiting for me at work.

I spent a week on the Cape every summer from the time I was born until just a few years ago. It's gotten harder for my family to coordinate a yearly trip there, but I still try to get to the Cape at least a couple of times of year. It's completely different there in the off-season. The restaurants and shops are nearly empty, and the beaches seem particularly vast and tranquil.

eating local

2009-05-17T11:16:00.007-04:00

I'm now back to subscribing to a local organic produce delivery service (I tried it previously during a phase of life when I wasn't home nearly enough to keep up with all of the alfalfa and butternut). Chris & I signed up a few months ago for the "dogma box," which is essentially local and regional produce. For the last several weeks, this has meant a boxful of all kinds of root vegetables and a couple of apples. For example, a few weeks ago, we received this:

And I made this really good, borscht-like soup:

We've also made some au gratin-style casseroles that have been very tasty. I'm ready to move on, though, to some asparagus and fiddleheads.

And speaking of buying local, I highly recommend this book. It looks at how food has traveled from and to various places throughout the ages; very interesting.

been there. done that.

2009-05-08T07:47:00.005-04:00

First, an editor's note: I seriously don't know where the time is going and my life has been a crazy swirl of work and family events and also work. I have photos and anecdotes and thoughts to share, and will, at some point, find time to share them. (That's really the hard part.)

Recently I had my monthly book club meeting (we read this, by the way). Book club is always an excellent time. There is some good discussion about the book, but there is just as much (if not more) enjoying of food, savoring of wine, and discussing of things that have nothing at all to do with the book--workplace happenings, celebrity gossip, and the general drama and intrigue of our lives.

So this time around at book club, a couple of the ladies (who happen to be about ten years younger than me) were talking about the pursuit of online dating. Earlier in the evening I had discovered that another bookclubber had met her significant other that way (as did I), and the younger ladies were asking us about how the whole thing worked. I offered a few pointers and stories, but also explained that the thing with online dating is that it can just be kind of a test a endurance. I mean, dabbling in it for a few months is one thing, but if you somehow find yourself entrenched in it for seven or eight years, you start to see it differently. It can beat you down, make you stronger, and eventually you can start to look at the process objectively, scientifically.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend (who is also a seasoned online dater) was talking about the process of going back into the online dating realm, and described taking it in stages--having a "phase 1" in which she just puts her profile out there and sees who responds, and then proceeding to "phase 2" in which she seeks out profiles of potentially interesting guys and writes to them. We laughed about how scientific that sounded, but it's true that after a while, you start to see the enterprise as an exploration into probability and an exercise in data management. There are certain mathematical guidelines that arch over the whole thing--such as the Theorem of Two Inches (if x is a guy's actual height of less that six feet, x (actual height) = y (the height he says he is on Match.com) minus two inches). I've had more than one friend who organized her online dating prospects into very professional-looking spreadsheets, managing the data in orderly rows and columns.

And yet, with all of the logic and rationality that rules the realm of online dating (and dating in general), it is at some level, like just about everything else, a swirling pot of chaos and contradiction. Tedious yet bizarre, exhausting yet adrenaline-pumping--just when you think you've seen it all and know how it all works, something else you never quite predicted happens. And just when you've started to accept that you might be in for another couple of years of dating, online and otherwise (and you've come to peace with that), you march out into the cold January morning and meet a new guy for a brunch that changes everything.

alas...

2009-04-22T13:58:00.002-04:00

The Globe has finally caught on to one of my favorite things--I hope the added publicity doesn't make for a longer line of people between me and my beloved rosemary fries.

goodness

2009-04-10T12:18:00.004-04:00

This morning I explained to Chris why "Good Friday" is referred to as such, despite its connection with suffering and death, and according to a certain Mel Gibson-made film (that I've heard of but will never watch and won't link to on my blog), a whole lot of blood-spurting. And truly, like most things related to religion, I don't think anyone knows for sure. It could be rooted in a translation issue, or in an effort to focus on what happens after the gruesome part of the story (what gets celebrated on Easter).

I grew up observing Good Friday with a day off from school and a day of meatlessness (usually with a veggie pizza from Papa Gino's for dinner). These days I still have work (pretty much all the time, workworkwork), but I don't eat meat on Fridays during Lent (which isn't that big of a deal, since I don't exactly eat steak everyday to begin with. And I also think Good Friday is an ideal time to observe and be grateful for things that are good. I know that is so not what the Pope has in mind when it comes to observing this holy day, but I've never really been one to follow the fold. I think it's all about human interpretation, since humans came up with all these traditions and stories to begin with. And so, good things today:

1.) My office plants, pictured above. I love them so. They have been flourishing in my office for the last several months. My office. With a door. And a window. Such good things.

2.) WARM WEATHER. Seriously. I had to take my jacket off earlier today and I drank an actual ICED COFFEE this morning.

3.) A tasty homemade English muffin from Crema Cafe. It's kind of an English muffin/biscuit hybrid. And it is good.

4.) Leaving work a little early to head out of town and see the family.

post-party casserole

2009-04-08T20:36:00.006-04:00

Way back in late March we had a little soirée at which we presented our dear guests with a fabulous and bountiful spread of deliciousness.

Even my wooden turtle bowl from Mexico (he answers to the name Alejandro) got in on the action, holding tasty chocolate eggs.

But, as always, all that food meant a whole lot of leftovers. (Seriously, a fridgeful.) And we're dealing with a massive amount of rice in the pantry to begin with. So I seemed to have the makings for some sort of rice-bake-casserole-situation. I used the rest of the spinach-artichoke dip, some cream cheese, some grated cheeses, some sun-dried tomato spread, and some cooked rice, and I baked the heck out of it. Yum.

our pet

2009-04-08T20:27:00.006-04:00

As promised, I present to you our newish pet Roomba. His name is Rufus and he has an excellent work ethic and a great personality.

On his first day on the job he got a little confused, and I found him in a corner, in need of recharging, and eating some rug fringe.

Since then, though, he seems to be getting used to his surroundings (and we've learned to make some adjustments before setting him loose).

Hello, spring. Where have you been hiding?

2009-04-04T16:09:00.005-04:00

Spring in New England is a tricky thing. You want it, you hear people talk about it. You see store shelves filled with pastel Easter candy and containers of matzoh and macaroons--signifiers of spring holidays. People from more southern states begin to speak of buds and blossoms, warm sunshine. Yet here, March--and even early April--could mean 25 degrees. It could mean snow. It could mean a tiny daffodil on your kitchen table struggling to open while outside a lightly dusting of snow coats the cold, frozen mud.

(Note: The above image was taken several weeks ago, and I'm hoping the snow isn't coming back anytime soon.)

And then, after a few weeks of that last stretch of winter-almost-spring, things slowly--ever so slowly--begin to shift. Those first buds begin to appear, and even if there is a lingering frost or two (or six), they will hold their ground.

a peachy keen year

2009-03-27T14:00:00.002-04:00

Last year on my day o' birth I was going for a shiny-red-shoe kind of year (but, good Lord, those shoes were uncomfortable). This year I'm going for more of a warm and spring-like feeling (it was 25 degrees earlier this week). I'm wearing my new GAP pleated dress in kind of peachy, pinky, salmon color. (With thick beige tights underneath of course--it was in the 30s this morning.)

Speaking of the 30s, I am thirty-three now, and, well, as I drift ever so steadily further from 30 it's freaking me out ever so slightly. Trying to slow down a bit and enjoy the ride.

mmm...quiche

2009-03-22T12:07:00.003-04:00

So Chris is quiche-crazy. (He also has a thing for omelets, eggs Benedict, and many other forms of, as the commercials say, the incredible, edible egg.) I've made a few crustless quiches in my day, and also quiches with store-bought crust, but I've been reluctant to make an actual, homemade crust. Until now. With so much glorious extra counter space these days (thanks to a bunch of new shelves) I now have room to roll out dough to my heart's content.

I decided to consult with Clotilde Dusoulier's Chocolate & Zucchini cookbook to get some more inspiration for my first from-scratch quiche. (I highly recommend her blog.) Below are the recipes for her pâte brisée (a very buttery dough) and onion & cumin quiche (to which I added mushrooms, just for kicks).

Pâte Brisée

Ingredients:
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
8 tablespoons (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, diced
1 large egg, lightly beaten
ice-cold water

(Note: I'm offering the by-hand directions, since I didn't use a food processor, but if you want to use one, you can, and Clotilde will tell you exactly what to do.)

Sift the flour into a medium mixing bowl. Add the salt and diced butter, and rub the mixture with the tips of your fingers or a wire pastry blender until the mixture resembles course meal. Beat the egg lightly in a small bowl. Form a well in the center of the flour mixture, add the egg, and blend it in gently with a fork. When most of the egg is incorporated, knead gently until the dough comes together. If it is a little dry, add ice-cold water, 1 teaspoon at a time, until the dough forms a ball. Avoid overworking the dough (or it will be tough).

Shape the dough into a slightly flattened ball. Wrap tightly in plastic and refrigerate for 30 minutes, or up to a day. Let stand at room temperature before using, just long enough that the dough can be rolled out without cracking; this usually takes about 10 minutes, but might vary. (Dough can be frozen for up to a month.)

Sprinkle flour lightly on a clean work surface and on your rolling pin, and place the slightly flattened ball of dough on the work surface in front of you. Roll the pin over the dough two or three times with moderate pressure. Rotate the dough by a quarter of a turn clockwise and roll the pin over it two or three times. Repeat these steps until you get a circle large enough to line your pan, sprinkling the work surface and rolling pin with a little more flour when the dough starts to stick to either of them.

Quiche Oignon & Cumin (Onion & Cumin Quiche)

Ingredients:

Pâte Brisée
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil, plus 1 teaspoon for greasing pan
2 pounds yellow onions, about 6 medium, thinly sliced (Note: I substituted red onion and mushrooms, since that's what I had on hand.)
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
3 large eggs
3/4 cup light cream (Note: I used milk, since that's what I had.)
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 teaspoons whole cumin seeds (Note: I used ground cumin.)
1 1/2 cups freshly grated Comté, about 5 ounces (you can substitute Gruyere)

Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onions, sprinkling with 1/4 teaspoon of the salt, and stir. Cover, turn the heat down to low, and cook for 30 minutes, stirring from time to time, until the onions are soft and translucent. Remove the lid, turn the heat to medium-high, and cook for another 5 minutes, stirring regularly, until most of the liquids have evaporated.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and let stand at room temperature for 10 minutes before using. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 10-inch quiche pan with 1 teaspoon olive oil. Working on a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough in a 12-inch circle. Transfer the dough into the pan, prick the bottom all over with a fork, and press on the sides with your fingers so the dough will adhere. Bake for 7 minutes, until lightly golden. Remove from the oven (leave the heat on) and set aside.

In a medium mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs and cream. Season with the remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt, the pepper, and the cumin. Fold in the cheese and onions, and pour into the tart shell.

Bake for 35 minutes, until the top is golden and the center of the quiche is still slightly jiggly. Turn the oven off and leave the quiche in the closed over for 10 minutes, until the filling is set. Serve warm. You can make the quiche a few hours or a day ahead and reheat it for 15 minutes in a 350-degree ven to revive the crispness of the crust.

Mmmmm...quiche.

and Roomba makes three

2009-03-17T09:13:00.001-04:00

Recently, at a baby shower, a friend asked me whether Chris and I, now that we’re living together, were planning to get a pet. Maybe adopt a charmingly persnickety cat, a rambunctious dog. I took a swig of sweet, baby-girl-pink punch and told her the truth.

“No, but we did just buy a Roomba.”

That’s right, our “pet” is an automatic vacuum cleaner. Instead of cleaning up after it, it cleans up after us. Honestly, I think it will fit into our lifestyles quite well.

I think someday I’d like to have a cat. I’ve always liked the thought of a warm ball of fur resting on my lap while I sit on the couch, knitting and watching some black-and-white Hitchcock. I also have dreams of hiking through the White Mountains with a dog eagerly wagging his tail and panting little white puffs of steam. I’m not sold on the whole poop-scooping thing, though, and I don’t think Chris and I currently have the time or space for a breathing, non-motorized pet right now.

And also, we love robots. Early on in our relationship, he sent me a Youtube video of the Japanese robot Keepon, as kind of a geek Valentine. I loved it. Later on, we spent hours at the MIT Museum, watching a robotic kangaroo leg hop around and around in a circle. When I got to meet Paro the robo-seal at work, he told me to send his regards.

We are still learning how to train our Roomba (his name is Rufus), helping him over the thresholds between rooms and trying to discourage him from eating rug fringe. (And yes, I will have pictures posted once we resolve a few technical difficulties we’ve been having.) He is a faithful little companion, with his flashing lights and adorable digitized sounds. He is methodical in his algorithmic work, tenacious in his pursuit of dust, and peaceful in his recharging slumber.

my Valentine's Day, in pictures

2009-02-26T20:29:00.011-05:00

Let's take a little trip back in time, shall we, to Valentine's Day. Some girls might get cards or flowers or chocolates. Me, I got a U-Haul full of stuff deposited in my living room. (I mean, our living room.)

The flowers did arrive later, just as I was heading out the door. (That didn't deter me from photographing them, of course.)

And just where was I going? I was heading to meet my brother to go to a very awesome tennis tournament. My brother has always been a huge fan of Pete Sampras, so I took him to the tournament as a belated birthday present. Our seats ended up being in an ideal location, close to the court and also very close to where the athletes walked in. My brother managed to get a bunch of autographs and an up-close-and-personal photo of Pete Sampras. Some highlights:

Anna Kournikova in a game of mixed doubles.

My brother is really good at taking serving photos.

Pete Sampras, before walking onto the court.

Another good serving shot.

Signed by Ms. Kournikova.

still alive

2009-02-25T10:08:00.002-05:00

Yes, I'm still here--I've just been immersed in all kinds of craziness lately. I do have a plethora of photos and essays and such to share, but will have to do so another time when I'm not, well, buried in work. (Need to get a lot done before leaving "early" to go to church and remember that I am dust.) But, oh, the blogging I will do when I find a stray pocket of time. Stay tuned, my friends, stay tuned.

Valentine's Day: DIY style

2009-02-11T11:46:00.002-05:00

Love these ideas from The Guardian (well, the edible underwear is probably better in theory, but it's pretty funny). I LOVE the duct tape rose pen.

a little mid-week randomness

2009-02-11T09:13:00.006-05:00

February is already flying by (which is probably what happens when you're busy with work, taking a class, and have an apartment that currently looks like a storage facility). Anywho, some thoughts I'd like to share:

1.) I've always been afraid of opening champagne, and apparently, there is in fact much to fear about it.

2.) Last weekend I felt motivated to make this very tasty macaroni and cheese. It has squash in it (I used butternut), which gives it a good flavor and more nutritional value than you'd normally find in mac 'n' cheese.

3.) Speaking of cooking, last night a friend had me over for dinner and made this extremely delicious African pineapple peanut stew from a Moosewood cookbook.

4.) I'm fascinated by the proliferation of the whole "25 Things" phenomenon on Facebook. I think the bottom line is that people want to have their stories heard, and there are lots of nosy people like me out there who are happy to hear them. The Globe took a look at the whole thing.

5.) Okay, I'll admit it, I've been watching episodes of this season's "The Bachelor" online (mainly listening to them, as I clean my apartment). It's just so absurd (all those 24-year-olds weeping over their spinsterhood), it entertains. As always, it's been very educational. I learned that if you write a cheesy poem in Canada, you can rhyme "again" with "rain." Also, helicopter rides are apparently a big part of the dating scene these days. Who knew?

Noooooo!!!

2009-02-05T09:37:00.002-05:00

I just discovered that one of my favorite Harvard Square restaurants, ZSquare, has closed. The Crimson has the scoop here. I spent many dates, visits with out-of-town friends, and a rockin' 32nd birthday there. Bummer.

Love Is a Lobster

2009-02-03T10:02:00.011-05:00

Note: I'm posting an essay I wrote recently, apropos of my current life state. I should note that in it, I reveal The Guy's first name (gasp!), but I honestly don't feel like going through the whole thing and editing it out and most of the people who read this blog already know my name and his name anyway. (And plus I already posted a picture of him sporting his Don Johnson look on Halloween, so it's not like outing his first name is that big of an embarrassment at this point.)

Observing the steaming ground beef mixture, flecked with corn, thickened with cornmeal, and crowned with an ooze of melted cheddar, it occurred to me that this was a consequence of dating a Midwesterner.

Just a few months into the relationship, Chris was feeling nostalgic for his favorite comfort foods and pulled out his paperback copy of The Joy of Cooking. He took out two pieces of paper, one detailing his mother’s recipe for a casserole she called “tamale pie” and another for a concoction called “Snickers salad,” involving apples, candy bars, and whipped cream. We settled on the tamale pie. The recipe called for mixing a large quantity of cooked ground beef with assorted canned goods, heaping it all into an enormous dish, and heaving the dish into the oven to bake.

As we sat on the sofa with our bowls of tamale pie, Chris looked contentedly at the brown mush.

“Isn’t this the best?” he asked, lifting up a heaping spoonful.

“Mmmm,” I said, trying to work my spoon under the crust that had formed at the top of the casserole. “Very, uh, hearty.”

“I could just eat bowl after bowl of this stuff,” Chris proclaimed.

“Really?” I said, looking up at him. “Isn’t it kind of filling, though?”

“No,” he dismissed. “It’s good.”

***

When I was a girl, my mother sometimes told me that the boy I might marry someday was out there somewhere, going to school and growing up just like me. I could not have known then, though, that while I went on a field trip to the Crane Museum of Papermaking in my hometown in western Massachusetts, this boy my mother spoke of was with his classmates learning about hops and yeast at the Old Style Brewery in La Crosse, Wisconsin. While I was catching pollywogs at Onota Lake in Pittsfield, he was observing the workings of Lock & Dam No. 7 on the Upper Mississippi. While my family was steaming lobsters during summer vacations on Cape Cod, his family was roasting bratwurst over an open fire while camping in the forests of Baraboo County, Wisconsin.

Chris and I went to Wisconsin for a long, late-summer weekend. In a single day he introduced me to the caloric regional delicacies of butter burgers, frozen custard, and cheese curds. We went to the Mars Cheese Castle in Kenosha, which was not so much a castle as a store where one can buy cheddar cheese in the shape of a beer mug. We went camping at Mirror Lake with some of his college friends. Being around them brought out his accent. I realized I loved the way he rounded and expanded the “oh” sound in “soap,” the word falling gently like an inflated balloon.

***

My roommate is packing up boxes, preparing to move in with her fiancé. And, after a year together, Chris is moving in with me. My roommate and I clean out the pantry, which has become a riotous tangle of tubes of gift wrap and extension cords. I find a cheap fondue set from a guy I had dated six years ago. The inside of the bowl has a black mark the size of a silver dollar, where the cheese scorched.

“Throw it out,” my roommate instructs. She has a rule about not keeping anything from an ex, especially if it is cheap, damaged, and/or generally useless.

I find two plastic margarita glasses, a cactus on each stem, that I had bought years ago. I was planning to go to a “bring your own glass” margarita party with my then-boyfriend, who broke up with me two days before the party. He was returning to his home state of Texas. He had told me that I should still go to the party by myself, but instead I rode a bus for three hours to my hometown and cried into a bowl of my mom’s homemade corn chowder.

“Out,” my roommate declares.

***

“What are we doing for Christmas?” Chris asked in early December.

“I’m going to the Berkshires and you’re going to Wisconsin,” I reminded. Although we had both gone to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving, we were visiting our respective families for Christmas.

He blinked once with his long eyelashes, and I realized that he was suggesting we do something together.

“We could have dinner before we leave. I could make us tamale pie,” I said, immediately regretting that offer.

“Or we could get lobster,” he said, his eyes brightening. He had grown to love New England seafood, and knew that lobster was one of my favorite foods.

“There’s that seafood shack in Cambridge,” he suggested.

I knew the place, Louie’s Lobsters, all too well. I had gone there regularly with the Texan ex-boyfriend. We would buy lobster sandwiches and eat them by the Charles River. After he moved back to Texas, I sent him a T-shirt from Louie’s, as though that would remind him of something he would wish he hadn’t left. I hadn’t been back there since then.

Chris and I left his friend’s holiday party early to pick up the lobsters, since Louie’s closed at 5:00 on Saturdays. The street was crowded with parked cars. Chris pulled over a block away, at around 4:58, and I walked briskly toward the shop.

“You pickin’ up the steamed lobstahs, hon?” asked the woman behind the counter.

I nodded and paid. Chris pulled up to the curb and I jogged to the car, holding up the bag of aluminum-wrapped lobsters in triumph. I curled up into the small passenger seat with my mittened hands wrapped contentedly around the warm paper bag.

***

Going though the kitchen while my roommate is packing, I assess utensils. I notice the lobster crackers Chris had brought that evening, to break the spiny crimson shells and get to the rich meat. I will keep these.

I picture us eating lobster sandwiches by the river when the weather gets warmer, sampling more cheese curds in Wisconsin the next time we go. I picture our cookbooks, with our mother’s recipes folded in between the pages, standing together on the same shelf.

because you don't mess with the Poles

2009-01-27T09:09:00.004-05:00

As the Globe's Michael Paulson notes in his recent "Articles of Faith" column, when it comes to America's Catholics: the churches, they are a'closin'.

There have been a number of cases of parish closings over the past few years, and recently there has been a surge of media attention given to these. The story that hits closest to home for me is that of St. Stanislaus in Adams, MA, (I have extended family who belong to this church), which was recently visited by Time magazine. The church is at the heart of Adams' long-standing and tight-knit Polish community, and was built generations ago by immigrants. It's a very Polish town, and the church provides services that help keep that sense of culture and tradition alive. The parish has been strong financially, with parishioners raising and spending funds effectively, and Mass attendance had been consistent. One church member asks in the article, "Why would they close us?"

Well, that's pretty easy to answer. Of course the Catholic Church higher-ups aren't going to close the churches in Adams with less money--they're going to close (and take, and sell) the church that is worth the most. Polish churches tend to be filled to the brim with art and religious artifacts (almost to the point of looking a little cluttered, in my opinion). Considering all the expensive Polish art and glass and gold that was in St. Stan's (I've been a few times), it's no surprise that it was targeted. The parishioners, understandably, feel that they and their families built and funded the church, and it's no one else's to take--especially for the reasons it is being taken (among them, to fund settlement payments in child abuse lawsuits, obviously).

At the conclusion of the Time story, a monsignor (who actually used to work at my high school), notes that "Suffering the closing of your parish is like watching a parent die." I think a more apt metaphor would be that it's like having a parent (the Church) take the money you earned baby-sitting and use it to buy drugs. And I don't blame people for fighting back.

life is a lot like basketball

2009-01-26T23:00:00.004-05:00

Sometimes you win by a lot, sometimes you lose by a lot, and sometimes you take a Nike to the face.

As an avid basketball fan and former player back in the day, a couple of recent basketball stories have caught my attention. The first of these is a high school girls' basketball game in Texas in which the Covenant School defeated Dallas Academy by the crazy score of 100-0. The Covenant School administration issued a public apology, the Covenant coach was fired for not apologizing and for objecting to said apology, and the Covenant girls were made to look like a bunch of meanies. (It sounds like the coach overplayed the starters and overdid the full court press and the fans were overzealous, but really all the girls did was score a lot more baskets and play effective defense against a team that they clearly outmatched.)

The Dallas Academy girls, on the other hand, have been hailed by columnist, morning show, and Covenant administrator alike as "the real winners." (Dallas Academy has a very small student body and primarily serves students with learning differences.) To me, this attitude is pretty condescending. They did persevere to the end, but really had no choice but to continue to play the game (there is no "mercy rule" as in softball, where you can forfeit the game once the score deficit reaches a certain point). There are certainly cases in which learning differences don't hold someone back from success in sports (Michael Phelps is a good example), as well as success in many other fields. The Dallas Academy girls deserve the same support and respect as every other teenager, but let's face it, when it comes to basketball, they are not good. And that's fine! They're probably good at plenty of other things. It's a game and sometimes one team is way better at it than the other. Lots of things in life turn out that way, too, and you've got to be able to deal with being on either side of it. (I say this as someone who was on a high-school team that lost a lot of games, sometimes by a lot.)

Moving on. The other story is about University of Houston basketball player Aubrey Coleman stepping on the face of an opponent, in a game Coleman's team ultimately lost. (I don't recommend watching the embedded video unless you're okay with seeing someone step on someone else's face. I found myself putting my hands to face when I watched it, like I'd been stepped on myself.) Coleman was ejected from the game, and later "apologized," but doesn't seem--at least so far--to be taken to task nearly as much as the Covenant School. (He was suspended for one game, though.) His coach and athletic director are standing by his lame "apology,"in which Coleman seems to be forgetting the fact that he high-fived his teammates right afterward, rather than pausing and saying anything to the effect of, "Dude, was that your face? Sorry about that." Personally, I think purposely stepping on someone's head is a lot worse than simply winning 100-0, but the University of Houston isn't denouncing anyone's face-crushing behavior. Same game, I guess, but completely different standards.

Twenty-nine things

2009-01-19T17:17:00.005-05:00

I've noticed a trend on Facebook lately of people posting lists of things about themselves, and inviting others to do the same--and I never do. But, just for the heck of it, I've decided to do just that today. (Not on Facebook, but here.) I decided to go with 29 things, it being 2009 and all.

1.) I have always hated cold cereal (Cheerios, cornflakes, etc.) with milk poured into it. It’s the sogginess factor; I’ve never understood the appeal. I’ll eat a bowl of dry cereal and drink a glass of milk, but I need to keep them separate.

2.) Since I was an only child until my brother came along when I was almost nine, I spent a lot of time entertaining myself. I particularly liked to entertain myself through the medium of dance. For a while, the only records I had were a John Denver album I won in a school spelling bee (I later realized that my teacher’s “prizes” were her way of getting rid of stuff she didn’t want) and an old Nat King Cole record my grandmother gave me. I’d spend entire afternoons choreographing elaborate dance routines in my room to “Rocky Mountain High” or “Three Little Words.” Despite never really getting into any trouble as a kid, I think I still managed to drive my parents crazy.

3.) Birch trees always make me think of home.

4.) I’m pretty wary of big dogs. I’m a little anxious around small ones, too, if they’re loud and yippy.

5.) My friends are really my second family. It’s a big and somewhat wacky second family.

6.) I hate American cheese. (I don’t fully understand what makes it “American” cheese, other than being made in America (where lots of non-American cheeses are also made), but I’ve always found it kind of gross.)

7.) I’m addicted to “This American Life.”

8.) I think I may, at a very biological and cellular level, need to always live near an ocean. I need salty air and fried clams and seagulls in my life.

9.) Although I do love the aforementioned sea and seafood, I’ve recently discovered that oysters and I do not get along. (I’ve had to sever our already limited relationship.) Sorry, oysters. It's not me, it's you.

10.) I don’t really understand the appeal of horror movies or haunted houses.

11.) I’ve had a recurring dream for as long as I can remember that I’m flying, or really just kind of levitating, floating.

12.) I get annoyed when American film studios poorly remake perfectly good foreign films for no good reason. “Shall We Dance?,” “Vanilla Sky,” “No Reservations”--I’m talking to you.

13.) Tom Cruise continues to weird me out. (Mentioning "Vanilla Sky" just reminded me of that.)

14.) I’ve been consistently keeping journals since high school, and I mostly don’t look back at journals from past years. When I do, it’s very freaky.

15.) I like sending and receiving real letters, the kind that require a stamp.

16.) Back in the day, I used to think that instead of singing “Our Lips Are Sealed,” the Go-Go’s were singing “I Love Cecile.” I didn’t know who this Cecile was, or why they loved her, but I was willing to go along with it.

17.) I don’t really have any major phobias, but I find clowns really creepy and I get nervous when driving (or walking) over bridges.

18.) My first slow dance ever was at a junior high dance and the song was “When the Children Cry” by White Lion. (Which is such a weird song to have as your first slow dance.)

19.) I have had mixed experiences with Facebook. On the upside, it has reconnected me with the most random people. On the downside, it has reconnected me with most random people.

20.) I think the reason why "The Office" is so popular is because people really do, at some level, know people who are a lot like some of the characters. (I know I do.)

21.) I’m not a pyromaniac, but I do love fire. Campfires, fireplaces, candles, etc.

22.) I really wish I required only a couple of hours of sleep. I know everyone feels this way, but I really feel like there is never time to do all of the things I need or very much want to do in the span of a day--and I don’t even have kids yet, which I can imagine only intensifies this situation.

23.) Lately, my gym (where I’ve belonged for ages) seems to get a little weirder each time I go. I’m starting to wonder if the good things about it (nice instructors, low cost) are starting to be overshadowed by the weirdness (the naked woman detailing her arthritis for me in the locker room, the guy belting out some U2 in the sauna, the general bad smells).

24.) My list of places where I’d really like to travel is very, very long.

25.) I grew up spending a lot of time with my grandparents, and I think that was a really good thing.

26.) I am constantly people-watching and eavesdropping. Anytime, anywhere. It’s fascinating.

27.) Twenty-seven is my favorite number.

28.) If I could have any ability just magically installed in me it would be to very easily learn new languages.

29.) Before I met The Guy, which was exactly one year ago tomorrow, I did a lot of dating. Sometimes it was funny. Sometimes it was educational. Sometimes it was interesting. But, actually, a lot of the time I felt like one of the contestants on a reality game show (think "Survivor," "Big Brother") when they have competitions in which they each stand on one leg on a pole and whoever stays up there the longest wins a prize. So I guess I confirmed something I already knew about myself--that when I really want something, I’ll stand on that pole for as long as it takes.

thoughts in this time of bone-chilling and flesh-freezing

2009-01-17T15:54:00.002-05:00

The other day, the “high” temperature for the day was 17. I feel like 17 degrees Fahrenheit can barely be classified as a “high.” Every local weather report I’ve seen in the last couple of weeks has involved terms like “Arctic blast, “bone-chilling cold,” and “flesh-freezing wind.” Remind me, again, what am I doing here?

One thing I’ve been doing here is enduring an encore of the ridiculous cold that smote me down around New Year’s. I think I’ve almost emerged victorious, thanks to plenty of shabu-shabu at my favorite new restaurant and ginger steamers from Crema Café (or improvised at home).

I’ve also been going to movies, since being outside these days is just plain silly and the cinematic offerings are particularly strong right now. Last weekend I saw “Doubt” as well as “Slumdog Millionaire.” I thought both were very solid—very engaging with a lot to mull over afterwards.

hacking up a lung, I mean, ringing in the new

2009-01-02T20:16:00.004-05:00

I’ve finalized my New Year’s resolutions and I’m working on getting my voice back (I’m hoping it will rejoin me at some point soon early on in the year). I’m staying in tonight (opting not to meet up with The Guy and some friends) in pursuit of healing myself and getting rid of this horrid cold once and for all. So I have time to share some things:

1.) I just don’t get it.
I keep seeing the trailer for this absurd-seeming new movie. Um, seriously, it’s called “rescheduling” and it’s not that hard.

2.) New books for the New Year.
The three new (to me) books I plan to read first in the New Year (in no particular order):
The Last Chicken in America by Ellen Litman
The Bridegroom by Ha Jin
Happy Family by Wendy Lin

3.) I love soup, obviously.
My latest soup discovery is the phenomenal New Zealand Sweet Potato Chowder from The Daily Soup Cookbook (which I received for Christmas). Here's the recipe:

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large Spanish onion, chopped
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons dried thyme leaves
2 teaspoons Kosher salt
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
6 cups vegetable stock
7 sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped into 1-inch cubes
approximately two cups corn (frozen is fine, if not in season)
1 cup heavy cream
2 tsp. minced fresh garlic
½ cup chopped Italian (flat-leaf) parsley

1.) Heat up olive oil in a large stockpot over medium heat; add the onion and sugar and caramelize for 10 minutes, until tender and golden.
2.) Add the thyme, salt, and pepper and stir to coat onion.
3.) Add the stock, sweet potatoes, and corn and bring the mixture to a boil. Reduce the heat, partially cover, and simmer for 20 minutes, until the potatoes are tender.
4.) Stir in the heavy cream.
5.) Puree about one quarter of the chowder in a blender or food processor (or in a bowl with an immersion blender) until smooth.
6.) Return the puree to the pot and stir in the garlic.
7.) To serve, ladle the chowder into bowls and top with the chopped parsley. (I like to add a dollop of sour cream or a drizzle of olive oil, just for kicks.) Yum!

2009, all shiny and new

2009-01-01T16:36:00.004-05:00

The plus side of New Year's Day temperatures in the teens is that the ice sculptures from First Night are still in tact (no melting happening today). It was a perfect day for ice sculpture viewing--cold enough to maintain the ice, but sunny enough to make the sculptures sparkle and shine.

ringing in the new

2008-12-31T14:58:00.006-05:00

Last year on New Year's Eve I considered where I had been the previous year (Mexico) in contrast to where I was then (the frozen tundra of Cambridge). This New Year's Eve, suffice it to say, is all about the frozen tundra (it's been snowing since around 9am; according to the Boston meteorologists, the snow will conclude by 7pm and be replaced by strong winds and bitter temperatures). So that will make venturing out for New Year's festivities interesting.

This, as I've mentioned before, has been quite a crazy year for me. Last year on New Year's Eve, I had just reached a really healthy place of Zen in terms of my dating life (accepting it for what it was, which wasn't the greatest, but somehow being content with it and open to wherever the dating road took me). And then about twenty days later, I met The Guy. In addition to that, a major job change has added to the overall life revamp I experienced this year. So in some ways, where I am this year is very different from where I was last year (metaphorically speaking).

And speaking of change, I've discovered that I now really love borscht. As a child, I really didn't like it. I would take the bowl of the weird pink soup handed to me by my grandmother and eat all of the slices of kielbasa at the bottom of the bowl--but the borscht itself, I mostly avoided. However, my mom and I made borscht while I was home for Christmas (from my grandmother's handwritten recipe), and it turns out that I now find it completely delicious. I now kind of like beets, and the vinegary tang (the recipe contains quite a bit of vinegar) that I hated as a kid I now really like.

Na zdrowie to the New Year! (Conveniently, "na zdrowie" can also be used as "gesundheit" after someone sneezes--appropriate, since I'm still battling the last remnants of cold my brother gave me for Christmas.) Cheers!

preparing for a merry little Christmas

2008-12-21T14:14:00.006-05:00

As has been illustrated by the dearth of December entries from this blog, I just haven’t had (or haven’t given myself) much time for blogging—or really, for thinking about anything not related to work. I have managed to send out holiday cards, enjoy an assortment of festivities, and do the smattering of shopping and gift-making I set out to do, but I haven’t had much time to really think about the holiday season (or again, think about anything not related to an Excel spreadsheet or project plan or database of some kind).

But now it is snowing hard, again. And I have no desire to be outside, at least not until the sidewalks are a little more shoveled, and I find myself with some time. I’ve just finished reading Hundred Dollar Holiday by environmental writer Bill McKibben, which I found to be a fast and rewarding read. It’s not about just whipping up holiday accoutrements on a budget, a la cover text you might see on Family Circle or Ladies’ Home Journal, and it’s not about deprivation or mournful sacrifice (as the book’s subtitle is actually “The Case for a More Joyful Christmas”). It’s about looking at the holiday for what it really is (it provides a look at the history of Christmas celebrations and Christmas commercialism) and observing it in a way that isn’t a drain on your energy and finances, but instead brings you true peace and joy (which, it turns out, isn’t always available at the local mall for $19.99).

As a child in a Catholic household in the ‘80s, I grew up with a hearty dose of both the commercial and the religious aspects of Christmas. I admired the delicate Christ child in our living room crèche, and I coveted the chubby-cheeked Cabbage Patch doll I saw on TV. I loved the red glow inside the church (an effect created by abundant candles and poinsettias, I think) at Christmas Eve Mass, and I loved the shiny, colorful wrapped presents under the Christmas tree. My parents always topped off our tree with an angel or star of Bethlehem, but also welcomed into the parlor an electronic Santa doll swinging his hips to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”

I grew up fascinated with the whole Christmas story, and participated in many an elementary school play illustrating the saga (my roles varied from angel to an assortment of barnyard animals). I believed in the miracle of Christmas, the angels, the idea of mysterious, wondrous happenings. And in subsequent Christmases, I would experience Christmas “miracles” of my own. The year (when I was probably around ten) and my dad and I were followed home from our Christmas walk by a collarless dog, and he stayed with us for a few days before we found the owner. (I had wanted a dog, or really any four-legged pet, for some time—and just having one temporarily struck me as somehow divinely arranged.) Or the year (in my early twenties) when I thought I had lost one of the diamond stud earrings my grandmother had given me, and my mom found it on Christmas Day in a pile of towels she had taken out of the dryer. She jokingly called it a Christmas miracle and we laughed, but I think, on some level, we both wondered whether there was more to the event than just static cling and a lot of luck. When you spend your formative years looking at things through a lens of faith, it’s hard not to look at luck as something more.

I don’t think I’m alone in my wanting to make room for some sort of unexplained dimension in life. According to a story on CBS Sunday Morning, 68% of Americans say they believe in angels. My own time as a fan of the typical, fluffy-winged, harp-toting angel probably didn’t extend very far past the age of seven or so. I loathed the show “Touched by an Angel,” and found the “My So-Called Life” episode that featured Juliana Hatfield as a pure-voiced, homeless teen “angel” to be hopelessly—almost shark-jumpingly-- corny. If given the angel poll myself, I probably couldn’t really bring myself to check “yes,” to indicate, “Yes, those angels you’re talking about—flying about with glowing halos and such—100% Grade A REAL in my book.” My rational mind says, “No, nice thought, but of course not.”

And yet. I do think things, and people, can happen to you at just the right moment when you really need them. The cab driver who pulled over to pick me up one frigid winter night when I found myself alone (in a safe but relatively unfamiliar neighborhood), just as I was starting to wonder how I was ever going to find the nearest T stop. The many times a friend has called me to do get together right after some horrifying (often dating-related) circumstance had befallen me—not necessarily knowing how much I need some distraction and a little attention. The many random run-ins I’ve had with so many people from my past (the Boston MBTA is apparently one of the world’s greatest unplanned reunion venues).

This year, which I will forever refer to as “The Great ’08,” has held some of that for me. A sudden, spur-of-the-moment decision to give online dating “one more freakin’ chance” (as I believe I put it to a friend) led to me finding the profile of The Guy. A nagging feeling that I was ready for a change and a few chance and not-so-chance happenings helped bring about a major (and great) job switch over the summer. To be accurate, The Guy, as well as my new colleagues, are, well, no angels in the classic sense of the word—but they all came along at just the right time, bringing a whole new layer to my life that I didn’t realize how much I needed until it was there.

So I think I am ready for this holiday season. Ready for the reflection and the festivities, the music and the memories, the taking stock of the year and preparing for the next one. Ready for the quiet moments of glittering joy.

shabu take two

2008-12-20T18:25:00.003-05:00

I feel a moral responsibility to share that I discovered a second new shabu-shabu place in Harvard Square, and I think it's actually significantly better than the first one. It's Shabu-Ya; the decor is very funky and Japanese in a cute and colorful way, with lots of round booths and spherical light fixtures that evoke the bubbles of shabu-shabu broth. I've been there twice already, and I think I will be spending some more time there this winter.

because sometimes it's awesome not to have a car

2008-12-20T09:48:00.002-05:00

So here's the state of affairs: the snow started at about 1:00 yesterday afternoon and pretty much hasn't stopped since then. The Guy was trying to fly out to the Midwest yesterday; he's trying again today. (It may take a while.) It was nice to have a little extra time to spend with The Guy, though--we watched Helvetica and Baby Mama (both were enjoyable, one in an educational way and one not).

I'm inside and keeping very toasty for the moment, although I think it's likely I'll get a little stir crazy before too long and might venture out at some point.

something wintry this way comes

2008-12-19T08:23:00.002-05:00

After a fairly lame winter so far of balmy days and a scattering of freezing rain, it sounds like we're about to get one of those arctic blasts to which I've grown so accustomed. At least, that's the word on Boston.com, which is proclaiming that there will be snow today and tomorrow, and snowish rain on Sunday. I can't say I mind much. Snow always seems to help make the holiday season feel complete around here, and if I have an abbreviated workday today, I might actually have some time to knit (must finish scarf!), and pack for the trip home, and clean--and blog!

um, so, December…

2008-12-03T21:34:00.004-05:00

In contrast to last month, I did actually manage to flip the page on my wall calendar on the first day of the month this time around. Still dealing with some crazy-busy times, and well, now it’s December, which basically means that it might as well be January in five minutes because that’s how it will feel.

Thanksgiving was lovely and family-filled and a whirlwind of activityand contained just enough relaxing for me to be able to inhale a deep breath and be ready to tackle December. (My chocolate-filled Advent calendar is also helping me with that.)

Here is a list of my December-y thoughts:

1.) Vats of bubbling broth are always good, especially when they’re in my neighborhood.
(I didn’t intend for that to rhyme.) A friend and I made a return visit to Shabu Square tonight. It’s the new shabu-shabu place in Harvard Square. (We love going to Shabu-Zen and Kaze in Chinatown, and it’s nice to have some shabu-shabu so nearby. We’re addicted to the Tom Yum and Korean kimchi broths.

2.) I like making gifts.
I’m all about the creative process of hand-crafted gifts and have also wearied of some of the consumer insanity of our times.

I’m making some scarves, and (alert the media) I’ve started to purl. That’s right, I knit, and then (stay with me now) I purl. After years of pretty much only knit stitch, this is some serious progress.

I’m also making some mixes of yummy things, particularly to give to The Guy to share with his family when he goes home to the Heartland for Christmas. Here are some of my favorite mix ideas that I found online:
Parsley Dill Herb Dip Mix
Italian Pasta And Bean Soup Mix
Cinnamon Pancake Mix
Friendship Brownie Mix

3.) I also like paying other people who make gifts.
I’ve become addicted to Etsy. Natural soap, handmade jewelry, beautifully designed clothing and housewares--everything on it is unique and you can really find just the right things. (The danger is that I usually end up buying gifts for myself, too.)

roast-o-rama

2008-11-17T20:48:00.005-05:00

Another week, more crazy madness. And today I had one of those workdays when I realized plans A and B didn't work, so I needed to devise some sort of plan C at the last minute. I also had to send a variety of urgent e-mails urgently expressing urgency.

These have been crazy times, yet nonetheless, I like to make time for the occasional home-cooked meal, especially on Sunday nights. And I think my soup addiction may start to be replaced by a roasting addiction. I've been roasting like a fiend lately, in part due to the beautiful Le Creuset casserole dish I bought on a deep discount a while ago. I've been roasting butternut squash, Brussels sprouts, and chicken sausages. My next mission is to roast some pears. The winter is young (yes, November is winter here), and I see much roasting ahead of me.

O, Fortuna!

2008-11-10T09:42:00.002-05:00

The state of affairs for me lately is best summed up by an incident last week when I looked up at the wall calendar in my office and realized it was still on September. In November. October went by without so much as a flipping of the calendar page. That’s just the kind of month it was.

Last week the guy and I went to BSO concert of Carmina Burana (which starts off with the very famous and epic “O Fortuna”). Carmina Burana is filled with references to tough economic times, war, and political complexity--making it (even though it is based around poetry and songs written in the 1200s) more than a little timely. “O Fortuna” itself discusses how times can go from very good to very bad in a flash and there’s not always a whole lot you can do about it.

I’m not the first to say that these are some stressful times. I’m certainly very lucky to have my new(ish) job--it’s challenging and the people are great. But the state of the economy, as a whole, frightens me. I worry about the people who are close to retirement (or thought they were close to retirement, but now are not). I worry about my younger brother’s generation, who are still bearing the brunt of the nation’s foreign conflicts. I think things will get better, but I’m not sure when. Or how. (And I would really not want to be president right now.)

Now, after a historic presidential election (complete with a “hologram” of will.i.am on CNN), I’m hoping things settle down a bit. I’m optimistic, and I feel like things will change for the better. (Maybe not right away, but hopefully they won’t have to get too much worse.) I don’t like to get overly into politics in public forums because it can be so divisive (those of you who know me know where I stand), but I have to say that the act of voting alone is always very exciting and inspiring to me. I once dated a guy who had come to the U.S. as a toddler from Poland (and had become a U.S. citizen), but he didn’t vote because he didn’t “think it mattered.” His parents had endured years of sham elections under Soviet rule, and had gone through some harrowing times to come to the US, but he didn’t feel a need to vote. I remember that struck me as such an ironic thing.

So now, with a new president-elect in the wings (one who I think is promising), I’m taking a deep breath. And personally, going into the winter (doesn’t help to deny it) I’ve tried to carve out more time for the things that keep me sane, and thus, I’ve started running at night (well, not really night, but around 6:30pm--which at this time of year means pitch darkness). I’m usually a park runner, but at night I run on well-trafficked streets (of course)--which makes for an entirely different experience. I’ve discovered that there’s a level of awareness required in night running that makes it easier to just run and not get distracted by thoughts of stopping. You have to maneuver over uneven brick sidewalks (in Cambridge, anyway), around dogs on leashes, around babies in enormous carriages. It keeps one focused. I’ll likely get back in the gym when it starts getting icy, but for now, I’m enjoying my night runs, under the soft glow of the streetlights, encased in quiet, comfortable darkness.

partying like it's 1988

2008-10-29T21:48:00.005-04:00

I have a friend who (along with her husband) throws huge, Halloween megabashes every year. Said friend is also a karaoke aficionado specializing in '80s glam rock. So in a perfect melding of these talents, this year her Halloween fest had a theme of 1988 junior high dance. The Guy and I went to this party last weekend, and it was substantially more fun than any junior high dance I recall.

I felt compelled to wear my authentic NKOTB T-shirt from back in the day. I didn't really wear it much when I was in junior high, but I spent a substantial amount of my time thinking about, talking about, and creating wall-sizes Tiger Beat collages of those guys. I also did a side-ponytail in a scrunchie hairstyle thing, which really just looked like I had a crumpled Kleenex atop my head. (I think that never really occurred to me during my scrunchie years, just like my friends who had the Wall! Of! Bangs! never really realized that from the side it just looked like a unicorn spike.)

The Guy went kind of a Miami Vice-ish route, which made things sort of weird when we stopped at the liquor store on the way to the party and I looked like I was 14 and he looked like a 30-something who had just stepped out of a time machine. Awkward.

The soup obsession begins again

2008-10-21T10:46:00.000-04:00

It is officially getting cold outside, and this weekend I bought myself a serious (seriously warm) pair of gloves and hat from an outdoor store. I’m done with messing around with dabblings into cute, gauzy knits. Bring on the dense synthetics and bring them on now.

And the cold is also renewing my longstanding affair with soup. The other day I was sipping some miso soup at a little sushi bar while listening to an NPR podcast about soup, an interview with T. Susan Chang. (The contents of the podcast overlap with this lovely NPR blog entry.)

On Sunday night, The Guy and I made split pea (and ham) soup (which I always kind of didn’t like, but I’ve been trying to open my mind). We also had a side dish of steamed beets (about which I’ve also had mixed feelings). The smell of the beets in The Guy’s vegetable steamer took me right back to Christmas Eve in my grandparents’ kitchen, where they would always have a big pot of simmering borscht. (I didn’t like it then, but I think I might now.) And it turned out that the entire meal of pea soup and beets was incredibly delicious—warm and comforting, flavorful and healthful. It all almost makes me enjoy the colder weather, and start to gear up for all of the soup possibilities that await.

timely, and also kind of stressful

2008-10-20T16:52:00.004-04:00

Among all of the fun things I did this weekend (went to the Head of the Charles, checked out the open studios at Fort Point, watching several Netflixed episodes of "How I Met Your Mother"), I felt compelled to watch "Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room" again (the Guy hadn't seen it yet, and it's so good I didn't mind watching it for a third time. And watching it now, in light of all the recent pandemonium, was really enlightening. The film vividly shows how some arrogant leaders and some greedy underlings, mixed with some mark to market accounting, can quickly turn very, very bad.

because my dad just turned 60

2008-10-15T19:51:00.004-04:00

As I think I’ve alluded, I spent this past weekend in my hometown in the Berkshires. Earlier in the week, it was my dad’s 60th birthday, so The Guy and I and my brother and his girlfriend all headed to the homestead to celebrate with my parents. I think I’m still a little in denial about my dad turning 60--not that it’s at all “old,” really, and not that it’s at all old for a parent of someone my age (my parents had me when they were relatively young, and many of my friends’ parents are older). It’s just the whole “Where in the world is the time going?” issue that I’m grappling with.

It is such a cliché, but the time has really gone by at quite a rapid pace, and it seems to be only accelerating. It really doesn’t seem like that long ago that my dad and I were reading aloud together from my Shel Silverstein books every night, or were spending rainy weekends selecting videos from the local video rental store (my favorites were often anything Disney but not animated). It doesn’t seem that long ago that I regularly presented him with carefully-crafted paperweights (euphemism for painted rocks); he kept them all--always finding some place for them on his office desk. And not that long since he coached by basketball and softball teams, and later, when I was in high school, watched on from the bleachers at all of my games, encouraging me with a wink or a nod whenever I happened to glance over at him.

It is hard, somehow, this gathering of memories and continuing forward. It shouldn’t be so hard, I think to myself sometimes (especially since the memories are so positive), but somehow looking at all that has passed just reminds me of how temporary it all is. Every moment is changing and flowing into a new one, and life is always evolving. There is no knowing exactly how it will evolve (and to a slightly paranoid worry wort like myself, this sure is scary). Change, I should remind myself, is natural and, in many cases, good. Change has brought me to new places, new friends, new experiences.

We spent the weekend doing many of dad’s favorite things--going for walks outside at some of his favorite Berkshire destinations, eating whole wheat pasta and fish (he is a bit of a health nut), and going to a play. When we were on one of our walks, The Guy spotted a couple of fuzzy, little caterpillars and picked them up. My mom immediately got very excited about this, as she teaches second grade and often brings caterpillars to her classroom in glass jars, so the class can witness one of nature’s more magnificent changes. My dad diligently held the furry captives (he named them Mike and Ike) in my mom’s pink camera case, while the rest of us gathered milkweed and other items that would make a glass jar feel like home to a couple of caterpillars. When we got back to my dad’s car we transferred the caterpillars, leaves, etc. into a shoebox that my mom kept watch over in the front seat.

When we got home, however, and relocated everything to a large glass jar, we saw Ike, but no Mike. Mike was the much bigger and fatter of the two caterpillars, and he looked ready for metamorphosis at any moment. We joked about him possibly being hunkered down in some crevice of my dad’s car. Maybe lodged in the glove compartment among the maps, or cozy within the CD deck.

And really, that’s where I’d like Mike to be. I like to picture my dad, who after all these years is still working hard, driving to sales calls and meetings with clients, stopping to pay a toll on the Massachusetts Turnpike, and, as he reaches for change in the little compartment, out flutters a Monarch butterfly--graceful and beautiful and a gift just for him.

unplugging (at least a little bit)

2008-10-13T16:07:00.005-04:00

I wouldn't say that I'm the earliest adopter of technology (I had a very old-fashioned cell phone for quite a while, and wasn't among the first to jump into the iPod boat), but I have become increasingly "plugged in," over the years (probably because I work in communications and am very into discovering new communication tools/media, which--bringing it full circle--is probably why I work in communications).

When I first moved into my current apartment several years ago, I had a landline, a rudimentary cell phone, and a very old computer that I barely used (my former roommate and I shared her laptop for using the Internet, since it was plugged into the modem). I had a tiny TV with a built-in VCR in my room so that I could watch any work-related videotapes (I worked in TV at the time). Gradually, though, everything I needed to watch for work was available on DVD (and anything I might want to rent from a movie rental store was only available on DVD). I got a new laptop, an iPod, and more recently, an iPhone (and I got rid of my landline). I now watch DVDs on my computer; I Netflix to my heart's content. I can find out everything I never really needed to know about every person I went to elementary school with via Facebook, and I can follow the lives of people I've never met via an assortment of blogs. And thanks to my iPhone, I can be on the Internet pretty much anytime, anywhere.

This is all great, in many ways. I've come to appreciate the convenience of finding directions on my iPhone on my way to a destination, and being able to listen to Podcasts while I run errands. I truly don't know how I functioned without a cell phone. (In fact, in between writing this sentence and the previous one, I just texted a friend regarding dinner plans for tonight.) If I want to connect with a friend (one I haven't seen in ten years, or one I see all the time), I can do it in an instant. If I want to watch an episode of "The Facts of Life," settle a debate with a friend over song lyrics or B-list actors, find a recipe for anything, buy a new purse, or attempt to find someone to date (I found The Guy online), I can do it all in minutes.

And yet, I'm finding myself starting to feel technologically overloaded. (And it's really no wonder, as I now reread the paragraph above to appreciate the full technological frenzy in which I now exist.) When I got back from my camping trip in the Midwest, I felt refreshed and well-rested. I slept well every night at the campsite--better than I ever had since childhood, and better than I have since. I think part of it may have been because of the perfect, comfortable weather, and also the abundant outdoor exercise--but I think it was also the lack of constant electronic stimuli. My brain was able to go back to basics, it seemed, and it was something I desperately needed.

Since I've been back in the fray, I've started to feel the exhaustion again, and I'm making a concerted effort to put an end to it. I'm trying to do more baking/cooking and cleaning, less Internet surfing. More reading and less watching of random things on Youtube and Hulu. I'm not willing to part with all aspects of my plugged-in lifestyle. I will still listen to Podcasts while I run (people who say they'd rather just focus on their environment and the running experience are substantially better runners than I am). I will still Netflix (it's a verb for me) and stay in close contact with my friends via my cell phone, but I will give myself actual breaks from work when I am not in the office and not check my work e-mail at 11pm on a Sunday night (or any night, for that matter). The nature of my work is such that I'm on a computer (and often online) for much of the day, but when I'm not there, I need to not be acting as though I am. And, of course, I will still blog.

Having grown up in an era long before the Internet boom (when computers were still relatively scarce and enormous--Commodore 64, I'm talking to you)--I was raised with library visits and nature walks. I spent weekends going through the encyclopedias in the basement and catching caterpillars in the backyard. I did love movies and TV, and primitive computer games like Oregon Trail and Where in the World Is Carmen San Diego?, but that was pretty much the extent of my multi-media scope. Although my brother (nine years younger than me), had a high-school social life centered around IMs and social networking, mine existed in passed notes and old-fashioned, landline phone calls. Information moved more slowly, and communication usually involved assorted delays. But now, I feel more fully indoctrinated in this "insta-world" that my brother grew up in. And again, in a way, it's a convenience and a thrill. In another way, I need to cut back. I need to step away from this churning storm of information and distraction and focus on the real, non-virtual world, on the offline.

because fall means pumpkins

2008-10-12T19:59:00.010-04:00

If I have to be aboard the slow, steady train toward the impending winter, I insist on bringing a mug of hot apple cider along with me. And also a few cider doughnuts. And some roasted butternut squash. And baked apples. And anything made with pumpkin.

Speaking of pumpkins, my mom was feeling a sense of gardening adventure this year and grew some pumpkins in the backyard. She cultivated quite the successful crop, the long vines crawling off in scattered directions and ending in surprisingly symmetrical orange orbs. (I honestly expected the pumpkins to be kind of multi-colored and warty-- I'm not sure why--but they turned out quite pristine and smooth and very orange.) One vine crept under a fence, depositing a small pumpkin poolside, and another vine stretched deep behind some shrubs (to find the pumpkin attached to it, I had to shimmy into a space I had not been since I played hide-and-go-seek many years ago).

My mom sent me off (at the end of my weekend visit in the Berkshires) with a bag full of her pumpkin harvest, and it makes me very happy to think of all the pumpkin seed toasting, pumpkin-related baking, and pumpkin carving I will do. I've never really used fresh pumpkin in baking before (canned is just so easy and delicious), but I decided that I needed to give it a try. It is a lot of work to dig into the pumpkins and rip out all of the insides, carefully separating the seeds, but it's kind of meditative and satisfying. After careful consideration of what to make first with the pumpkin, I decided to try pumpkin cookies (since they freeze well and are easy to share). Below is the recipe:

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies

adapted from a recipe on Cooks.com

1 cup (or more) fresh pumpkin
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 maple syrup
1/2 cup oil {Note: You can actually just use a 1/4 cup of canola oil, and it's a-okay}
1 egg
2 cups flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. milk
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 tsp vanilla

Dissolve baking soda in milk; set aside. In large bowl add pumpkin, sugars, oil, and egg; stir. Add flour, baking powder, cinnamon, salt and baking soda mixture. Mix well. Stir in chocolate chips and vanilla. Spoon onto cookie sheet. Bake at 375 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes or until done.

going the distance (3.3 miles, to be exact)

2008-10-07T22:01:00.003-04:00

A few years ago, I ran in my first 5K race. I was in a zone of conquering some things (turning 30 can do that to a person), and running was definitely on the list. Although I grew up playing sports (especially basketball and softball), I was never particularly great at any sort of distance running. In gym class, I could maneuver myself around a dodgeball hurled at me and haul myself a good way up that horrid hanging rope, but when it came to doing the mile run, I was always one of the last to cross the finish line. I don’t really know why—I didn’t have asthma or any other health issues; I was just, well, not particularly great at it.

And this always bothered me. Because I like to be great at things, or at least moderately good. (I’m an Aries that way.) So a few years ago I decided that I was just going to start running and I was going to run a 5K. I chose the Labor Day 5K for the St. Charles Children’s Home because I had seen a program on it on a local TV station, and was fascinated by the running nuns. I trained for the race, and at first it was hard (you’d think it wouldn’t be, since I had already been working out, but it was—somehow running is just different for me). But gradually, it got easier, and by the time it was race day, I was completely ready and taking pictures of my torso in the parking lot.

I should note that, at the time, I thought it was some sort of sign that I randomly got the number of my high school graduation year (‘94); when you’re running with the nuns it’s all about the signs.

This past weekend I ran in another 5K (I’ve tried to run a few races every year for the past few years)—this one wasn’t with the nuns, but it was for another good cause. For some reason every time I’ve run a 5K, the weather has been perfect, and this most recent race was no exception. I haven’t got much faster than I was at my first race, but do have a steadier pace. I get into a zone in which there is no stopping, no thinking about stopping, and the only thing I focus on is getting to the finish line, and as soon as I hit the 3-mile mark (a 5K is 3.3 miles), I accelerate.

I still don’t know if I really consider myself a runner, especially when I talk to friends who run marathons, or even half-marathons (both make 3.3 miles look downright measly). However, I do run, sometimes several times a week. When it gets icy and death-trap-like, I’ll run inside, on a treadmill. I run. It is hard and real and it is how I remember that I am strong.

hello, fall, you're looking very lovely & shiny

2008-10-07T20:19:00.002-04:00

A couple of weekends ago I went to a big festival of glass pumpkins. I'm fascinated by glass-blowing, and had wanted to check this event out for a while.

A few pictures:

September, where have you gone?

2008-09-30T09:47:00.004-04:00

Somehow tomorrow is October, and I truly don’t know how that is possible. Time really flies when you’re busy being stressed out by work and a bunch of other things.

This month has been a crazy one--filled with a bunch of turmoil and also the realization that the nation is in a state of massive political and economic uncertainty. Thus, in order to keep myself from doing the panicking that I so excel at, I’ve been spending my time doing a bunch of other things--and based on those things, a few recommendations:

1.) Book: “The Female Brain” by Louann Brizendine
This was the latest selection for one of my book clubs; it’s a fast and fascinating read. Good to know it’s not just me who’s on a year-round hormonal roller-coaster. The book details how the female brain develops throughout all stages of life, and how it differs from the male brain.

2.) DVD: “Son of Rambow”
This is a very sweet (but not overly so) movie--about kids, but I’d say not just for kids (and definitely not for very young kids). Roger Ebert can tell you all about it here.

3.) Crafts: Stampin’ Up
I recently went to IKEA to get some organizers to contain all of my hobby supplies (between the jewelry-making and the knitting and the paper-crafting things had gotten way out of control). So now I’ve been enjoying all of my craftiness in a much calmer and organized manner. My latest fun crafty discovery is Stampin’ Up, which has boatloads of beautiful papers and stamps and other crafty tools. (The site I'm linking to is my friend's; she's a Stampin' Up demonstrator and purveyor of all things excellent and crafty.) I’m not always the biggest fan of rubber stamps (sometimes the ones with excessive puns perplex me), but there is a great, wide selection on Stampin’ Up, so you can go for the more subtle ones, if that’s your thing.

my cab ride of doom is famous!

2008-09-29T13:37:00.002-04:00

A friend pointed out to me earlier today that my previous entry was picked up by Universal Hub (big Boston blog); go here and scroll down to "Ragey and Incompetent" (sounds about right to me).

cab ride of doom

2008-09-26T10:48:00.002-04:00

Last night I was heading to a friend’s place for an evening of paper crafting. The friend is a crafting extraordinaire. She hosts little workshops and they’re always an excellent time. She lives in a nearby ‘burb that isn’t really easily accessible via public transport (you can bus it, but I don't usually like waiting for a bus), so I, being carless, usually get a ride over to her place with a friend or take a ZipCar. I hadn’t arranged to do either last night, so I just thought I’d jump into a cab. It’s really not far and I had a map with me, as well as a reasonable sense of how to get there, so I thought it would be no problem. Let me just say, I don’t think I have ever been more wrong.

First of all, I tried to get a cab at a nearby hotel, but all of the cabs were Boston/Cambridge only (not going to the ‘burbs). I started heading over to Harvard Square, and happened to catch a cab on my way (the cab was from a company I’ve used many times, and was actually one of their new, upgraded cabs)--the driver said she could go to the town where I wanted to go. I told her the address. I showed her my map from GoogleMaps. I told her the basic directions. Upon her request, I typed the address into her GPS system. And then, she proceeded to make a series of driving and directional errors unlike any I have ever seen before. Maybe she couldn’t read the signs in the dark, but she completely ignored all given instructions and we went all over the place, not taking any of the turns we were supposed to, not correcting our course, and nearly getting into about four accidents. I asked to get out of the cab, but she said she was determined to get me there (and we were locked in crazy traffic, too, so it was hard to pull over). I said I wouldn’t be able to pay by the time we got there; she turned off the meter. We drove. She began shouting over to random drivers and pedestrians and asking them how to get to my destination. I began to send frantic text messages to my friend like, “I’m on my way…in a cab…it’s kind of a nightmare…I’ll keep you apprised…” Eventually the driver claimed she saw the sign for the street I had requested, and I asked her to just let me out there. (I doubted it was the right street, but felt at that point the safest thing I could do was get out.) I paid her the amount on the meter before she turned it off (who knows how many miles ago) and got the hell out of the car. Upon walking around for a few minutes, I realized I wasn’t where I wanted to be, and couldn’t tell from my map how to get there. So I called my friend, and she sent her husband out to rescue me as I waited at a well-lit street corner, soothing my rattled nerves with an NPR podcast and gnawing on a stick of Orbit.

He found me within about five minutes, and whisked me over to their house. My friend and her other guests marveled over my tale of transportational horror. The crazy part, as I told them, is that this was the first female cab driver I’ve ever had--and by far the very worst! (Way to perpetuate the stereotype of bad female drivers.)

The rest of the evening was lovely, involving much crafting and chatting and some drinking of wine. One of the other women who lives near me kindly brought me home and told me to definitely coordinate to carpool with her next time rather than take a cab of doom. So it all worked out well, and I lived to tell the tale.

my new multi-media love

2008-09-24T15:45:00.001-04:00

I've recently gotten very into this, NPR's Kitchen Window. It's a blog. It's a podcast. It's delicious.

because we all have our issues

2008-09-22T22:39:00.003-04:00

Everyone has words they just don’t like, words that make them cringe. For many people, it’s a word like “moist,” or “panties.” Or maybe it's when fashionistas refer to a pair of pants as “a pant” (I really hate that). Something like “noodles” or “quagmire.” For me, though, I’m starting to have to come to terms with the fact that for some time now, I haven’t really liked the word “boyfriend.”

Part of it may stem from the fact that I feel a little on the old side to have an actual "boyfriend." In the interest of full disclosure, I really didn’t have that many long-term-ish relationships in my younger years--so now I find myself here, as a 32-year-old woman with a, um, boyfriend. Odd. (Or maybe odd that, to me, it seems odd.) And the even odder part is that there’s no real way to word yourself out of it. If he’s not your husband, and not your fiancé, and more than a friend, he’s (sometimes to often, I guess) your boyfriend. I’ve known a few women who were in their 30s and 40s and referred to their significant others as their “partner,” but that always made me (and everyone else) think they were referring to women, which didn’t happen to be the case. But they didn’t want to say “boyfriend,” and honestly, I can understand why.

For me, the word kind of conjures up images of bobby-socked teens heading to the malt shop. Wistful, dreamy-eyed girls and girls who depend on a boy’s affection, all encased in some serious taffeta. I mean, I know there are all kinds of more contemporary songs, movies, etc. that involve the word, but still, it feels sort of old-fashioned.

But then, again, I don’t have any nominations for a replacement word. I mean, “gentleman friend,” “suitor,” “lover;” all them are insufficient. And something like “sudden angel” seems a little much for everyday usage. So “boyfriend” it is, I guess (or The Guy, as he gets called on here). Or maybe, co-paddler?

not like I need another magazine in my life...

2008-09-22T16:43:00.002-04:00

Aside from the rigors of my book clubs, I do enjoy occasionally unwinding with a good periodical. For years, my magazine addictions have included Entertainment Weekly, Cooking Light, Wired, and Real Simple. The Guy has led me to rekindle my love of Fast Company. I've recently discovered the joys of the new Hallmark magazine and Natural Health (which my roommate gets). And just this weekend, I discovered Clean Eating magazine, which is slightly diet-y (even though it claims not to be), but mostly it's just filled with very delicious- and nutritious-looking recipes. Its tag line is, "Improving your life one meal at a time!". I like that concept.

baking and Buddhism

2008-09-11T21:41:00.004-04:00

I made some shortbread the other day (from a fabulous recipe a friend gave me in a recipe swap a while ago--the recipe is so easy/great that it prompted me to buy the cookbook from whence it came). It has been a hot and humid summer, but the chill of fall is now in the air, and I felt like baking. I also had an added excuse in that a good friend of mine who has been going through a terrible time lately was coming over, and I wanted to offer up some tea and some sort of tasty baked good. (The shortbread fit the bill, as they are so simple and involve ingredients I regularly have on hand.)

I had been talking to said friend recently about the very unfortunate situation she's been experiencing and the extreme uncertainty of life. We somehow got on the subject of Buddhism, which made me remember a book I had loved in high school, "Peace Is Every Step," by Thich Nhat Hanh. (Except when I was telling my friend about it, I couldn't remember the exact title, just that my edition of it had a dandelion on the cover.) We read the book in my world religions class senior year. My religion teacher was very into Eastern religions, and spent a lot of time focusing on Buddhism. He taught us about Zen koans by calling us one-by-one into an adjacent classroom and asking us all one somewhat koan-like question, like "How do you shake hands?" I remember reaching out, with uncertainty, and shaking his hand, and sensing in his eyes that he could see my insecurity, my very un-Zen-like, overachieving striving to find the perfect answer, to get the perfect grade.

Many of the principles of Buddhism were counter-intuitive to my views at the time, and were also very different from Catholicism with which I was raised--which, in contrast to the Buddhist embracing of impermanence, focused on life eternal (in some form, in heaven, if you earned it). Yet somehow, I found an affinity with Buddhism, with accepting the ebb and flow of things and riding the current, rather than fighting it. There is a sense of peace in that, which is also reflected in some of the great Buddhist art. When I saw the Daibutsu in Kamakura a few years ago, I noticed that the giant statue seemed genuinely at rest, almost quietly breathing.

There are strong elements of Buddhism in baking, too, I think. It involves mindfulness in the measuring and the mixing, it is a creation of something very temporary, and can be just as much about the experience as it is about the result.

a few images from the heartland

2008-09-11T09:38:00.007-04:00

I spent Labor Day weekend out in the Midwest with The Guy. He's from Wisconsin, which has been an interesting learning experience for me and a bit of a novelty. I'm always amused by his talk of burgers created around a core of butter, and by the way he sometimes stretches out the "oh" sound in certain words, like "soap."

We camped with a bunch of his friends for three days/nights at Mirror Lake in Wisconsin, which was just very peaceful and abundantly fun (it helped that the weather was perfect the entire time). We fit in a visit to Dr. Evermor's, a little canoeing, and a whole lot of toasting of toastable things over an open fire. We also stopped by the Mars Cheese Castle in Kenosha, WI, on our way back to Chicago. It was there that I experienced my first cheese curd, which was, in fact, very tasty.

And in Chicago, I got to see a good friend of mine I hadn't seen in ages, as well as the Cloud Gate sculpture in Millennium Park (which featured no clouds on the day I saw it, but was still incredible).

A few images from the long weekend:

farmers' market salsa

2008-09-07T16:54:00.005-04:00

As I think I've mentioned before, I have some serious love for my local farmers' market. I also really love Veggie Planet restaurant in Harvard Square, and my Vegetarian Planet cookbook (by the same chef who started the restaurant). The other day The Guy and I went to Veggie Planet for lunch (I'd only ever been for dinner), and it was pretty entertaining in that whenever someone's food was ready, a loud voice would boom over a microphone, like the voice of God, saying, "Greg, your pizza is ready." The Guy and I laughed every time.

Back to the farmers' market, my favorite things to buy there these days are corn and tomatoes (especially the wacky heirloom ones). And an ideal way to use them is in the roasted corn and garlic salsa in the Vegetarian Planet cookbook. Here is the recipe:

Roasted Corn and Garlic Salsa

Kernels for 3 ears of corn (about 2 cups)
15 (yes, 15) large garlic cloves, peeled and sliced thin
2 tbsp. olive oil
2 tbsp. water
1/2 tsp. salt
freshly ground black pepper to taste
3 ripe round tomatoes or 6 small plum tomatoes, cored and chopped fine
1/4 cup lime juice (from about 2 limes)
1 to 2 jalapeños, minced (I like to include some seeds because I like the heat; if you don't, don't include any seeds)
1/4 cup chopped cilantro (You could omit it if you hate it, or replace with flat-leaf parsley.)

1.) Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Put the corn kernels in a roasting pan with the garlic, and mix well. Drizzle the olive oil over the corn, and add the water, salt, and pepper. Mix well. Roast the corn and garlic, uncovered, for 20 minutes.

2.) In a bowl, combine the tomatoes, the corn and garlic mixture, the lime juice, the jalapeño, and the cilantro (or parsley). Stir well, and let the salsa stand for 1 hour at room temperature so the flavors can develop. Serve the salsa immediately, or store it in a sealed container in the fridge for up to 4 days. (It's best the day it is made.)

Burnt. Out.

2008-08-26T10:37:00.001-04:00

I have been to some mighty fine places lately, including the ever-beautiful Arnold Arboretum and the always majestic state of Rhode Island. I can’t show you any photos at the moment, however, as I still need to get a new cord with which to connect my camera to my computer. And when will I do that? Perhaps sometime after I do two more loads of laundry (if I can ever find a moment when no one else is using the laundry machine in basement). And after I pay some bills. And also go running. And also clean my bedroom. And also pack for my upcoming vacation.

Yes, you heard that right, vacation. I am taking a couple of days off right around Labor Day to head out to the Midwest, and I can’t tell you how much I need to get away and regroup. I am completely burnt out. I have been working some long, stressful hours and it is starting to wear me down. I feel like I have about an hour a day to cram in anything non-work-related (sleeping really does get in the way), and things that I can normally let roll right off my back are driving me crazy. (Ca-razy!!) I need to get myself out of the smelly, crowded, sweaty rat race that is Cambridge in late August and go somewhere new.

And then maybe I’ll feel like myself again. And then maybe I'll remember the point of it all.

nerd crime

2008-08-22T12:45:00.002-04:00

I feel like a bad, bad blogger indeed. No time for bloggin' here. I even have photos to share, but won't be able to do that for a while for a number of uninteresting reasons. I plan to get it all squared away soon.

In the meantime, I feel compelled to share this.
Definitely obnoxious and destructive (and illegal), but I can't say I haven't, at times, had secret fantasies of doing something like this.

the I-need-a-vacation potpourri

2008-08-14T08:08:00.004-04:00

So, yeah, have I mentioned that I could really use a vacation? I've had a few long weekends here and there, but mostly it's been go, go, GO--and the whole switching jobs thing has kicked everything up to a whole new level of craziness. It's getting hard to focus and frankly, I'm really exhausted.

And so, in the spirit of total exhaustion and lack of focus, I present to you another list of randomness:

1) PBR-infused poultry Last weekend The Guy and I went to a cookout at a friend's house at which said friend made the marvelous culinary phenomenon known as beer can chicken. He more or less used this recipe (he left out the MSG). It was crispy on the outside, moist and tender on the inside. We also grilled some corn, which is fast-becoming one of my favorite summer activities.

2.) I want to go back to Stars Hollow.
I spent the past several months Netflixing my way through all seven seasons of "Gilmore Girls." I only caught the show sporadically when it was on TV, but once I got into the DVDs, I was hooked. I loved the banter, the small-town charm, the clothes of the leading ladies, and the star-crossed romance. I've now watched the entire series, so I've moved on to "The Wire," which everyone tells me is fantastic. I've only watched the first episode, and I think I'll get into it, but I'm missing my friends in Stars Hollow.

3.) Pallie is missing again.
(Or at least he was as of a few days ago.) Pallie, as you may recall, is my sort-of pet. I'm really hoping he returns soon. In the meantime, I did spot a huge, plush hamburger toy on the sidewalk near my apartment yesterday--so I guess that can be my sort-of pet in the meantime. I love you, giant hamburger toy. (It's just not the same--Pallie, come home!)

4.) Restaurant Week rocks my world.
This week is "Restaurant Week" around here, which means you can get a fabulous, three-course, prix fixe dinner (for $33.08) at a number of restaurants--including those you'd likely never/rarely go to because they're so expensive. Last night The Roomie and I went to Temple Bar in Cambridge and had an amazing dinner that featured delicious local, seasonal ingredients (mmmm...corn and heirloom tomatoes). Temple Bar was really my go-to place when I was on the dating scene--I think I've gone on at least a dozen first dates there. Last night when I was with my roommate we noticed a couple at a nearby table and deduced that they might be on a first date (from the body language and the "So how many siblings do you have?" conversation). Glad there are others keeping the fine first-date-at-Temple-Bar tradition alive.

a few quotables

2008-08-06T13:20:00.005-04:00

1. "Yeah, I think he Googled us."
Last night I had the pleasure of hanging out with my friend Ellen K. and checking out her awesome house. She's a very handy lady (she makes beautiful furniture and is a home-improvement wizard) and she's been fixing up the place in marvelous and astounding ways. As we were riding the commuter rail out to her place, we discussed the last time we hung out, which was at a beer-tasting event a couple of weeks ago. At said event, we talked primarily to three guys; two of them were married, but one was single and seemed to take an interest in Ellen K. They exchanged contact info, but she hadn't heard from him yet. She did, however, think she might have gotten kind of a weird vibe from him, as at one point he looked closely at our name tags (which had been scrawled out in cursive by an event volunteer) and asked us for the spellings of our last names. A little later in the evening, he went up to Ellen K. and said something to the effect of, "So, you enjoy running?"--which she hadn't mentioned at all previously, but which he would have known if he Googled her and saw her race times on Cool Running. She had noticed that he had been fiddling quite a bit with a mobile device. "Yeah," she said, while we rode along on the train, "I think he Googled us." And really, I think that's a pretty normal thing to do in this day and age, but who does it about three minutes after meeting someone?!

2. "Oh my gosh, it's Comedy Steve and his floor commercial again!"
The other night my mom called and my television was still on (I had muted it), and on came a local commercial for a flooring company--starring a guy I had dated for a couple of months a long time ago. He's started popping up in more and more local ads, and it's just really weird to see him, out of the blue, sitting beside his pretend wife talking about how awesome it was to have his pretend floor delivered with prompt next-day service. (You know you've dated pretty much everyone in your greater metropolitan area when you can't even watch TV without such an occurrence.)

3. "I, like, totally hate science, but I'd go just to see Bill Nye. He's, like, wicked hot."
These puzzling words were uttered by an unidentified teenager a few weeks ago when The Guy and I were at our favorite little crepe place in Harvard Square. I find it quite sad that she (a) reportedly hates science or (b)likes science but thinks it's cool for girls to hate science. And I do think it's the latter, because if she does indeed find Bill Nye (who apparently must have been slated to be at some local event) to be "wicked hot," it's kind of got to be because of his pop science appeal and geeky charm (unless I'm missing something). So it seems you must like science, random Harvard Square girl, and you know, in your heart of hearts that science is cool. I am so on to you.

early August observations

2008-08-05T10:50:00.001-04:00

1.) I'm glad I allowed myself to be coerced into seeing "Hellboy II."
It's not really the type of movie I'd normally want to see, and I don't know a blessed thing about comic books, but The Guy enjoys them and was dying to see the new Hellboy movie, and somehow convinced me that I, too, should spend three hours with the muscular, red, brick-fisted dude. And actually, I was glad I did. The movie is from the director of "Pan's Labyrinth," which I loved, and while I didn't love "Hellboy II," I did very much enjoy it. And it seems Ty Burr of The Boston Globe felt similarly.

2.) Sometimes you need new shoes. And that's okay.
I've been holding back from buying new shoes for some time now (my closet is bursting as it is) and have been wearing my flip-flops all summer--which is enjoyable, but also has been becoming painful. I walk at least a few miles a day, and often jog another couple of miles on top of that, and well, my feet were starting to kill me. So the other day I found myself in the giant DSW downtown and happened upon a pair of soft, light green Privo flats (with a textured interior that sort of massages your foot). I bought them, walked out of the store of them, and my feet felt oh-so-much better.

3.) 'Tis the season for the farmers' markets.
I am loving my weekly visits to the local farmers' markets. Last weekend The Guy and I bought all the ingredients for BLTs at a farmers' market (including the bacon, which was provided by a very well-cared for pig) and made what I think may have been the best BLTs of all time. And we ate them outside (at Shakespeare on the Common), which likely made them taste even better. I've been religiously buying corn and blueberries and heirloom tomatoes and it all just makes me very happy.

because sometimes summer involves products

2008-07-31T20:30:00.007-04:00

July, where have you gone? I spent the month wrapping up things at one job (where I had been for nearly seven years) and starting a brand-new job (which has been pretty fantastic). It has all been a crazy blur, and I'm just now beginning to come up for air--almost. For the time being, though, I'm going to keep this entry on the light side and take another look at some of my recent product faves.

C.O. Bigelow Mentha Lip Tint
I know my lip products, and I like this because it's not gooey or sticky or tacky. It just does its job of keeping the lips moisturized and the peppermint oil adds a nice, refreshing kick. I like the "Pink Tint," but there are a range of tints available. You can get this at Bath & Body Works.

Bath & Body Works Aromatherapy Hand Soap in Sensuality - Jasmine Vanilla
Speaking of Bath & Body Works, the Aromatherapy line features a number of different scents, including Sensuality - Jasmine Vanilla. Someone at my new job put a bottle of the Jasmine Vanilla hand soap in the women's room, and I salute this fairy godmother of toiletries. This stuff smells amazing and leaves your hands very soft.

Neutrogena UltraSheer Dry-Touch Sunblock
I do love summer, and I love enjoying it by being outside--and I have quite fair, quite freckly skin. So in light of those realities, I need good sunscreen. This is my latest favorite--it works well and absorbs right away (so you don't feel like you're slathering yourself with Elmer's glue).

Physicians Formula Organic wear 100% Natural Origin Tinted Moisturizer
I've long appreciated Physicians Formula cosmetics (good for sensitive skin like mine), and now there's a new "Organic wear" line. I really like the tinted moisturizer. It's sheer and light, and smells kind of fresh and clean.

summer readin'

2008-07-27T14:52:00.003-04:00

Now that I have two full weeks of my new job under my belt and now that there is a slight break in the heat and humidity, I find myself with the time/level of sanity required to share what I've been reading so far this summer. Between the selections for my two book clubs and my own reading pursuits, I've had plenty to keep me busy.

One of my book clubs just read The Road by Cormac McCarthy, which I could really appreciate in terms of the elegant writing, but I have to say, it wouldn't be my top pick for a breezy beach read. It's a post-apocalyptic tale of a father and son fleeing for survival amidst a cold, broken world teeming with some sort of cannibal-like outlaws. It's kind of a bad situation. In contrast to that, my other book club just read I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloane Crosley, a very light and sarcastic/funny group of essays. I liked some of the essays better than others, but this was mostly an enjoyable read that felt like a long, entertaining e-mail from a friend.

In terms of my own picks, I'm reading The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby, mainly because I told myself I must read the book before seeing the film (of the same title). It's a slim, quick, but hefty read--amazing in terms of the fact that it even exists (after a stroke left him paralyzed, the author "wrote" the book via blinking his left eye). Disturbing and tragic, it's also, in a way, life-affirming and even joyful.

On the not-so-amazing side, I also recently read "Straight Up and Dirty," by Stephanie Klein, which I ended up just skimming my way through at the halfway point, because it just didn't really grab me. Klein is a well-established blogger whose blog chronicled her misadventures as a young divorcée re-entering the dating scene. She's no Crazy Aunt Purl, though, and I find her writing kind of annoying and cliched.

And when it comes to going to the beach (I spent all of yesterday at my beloved Singing Beach at Manchester-by-the-Sea), I like to pack lightly, so that means a magazine or two. In particular, I recommend the recent, fiction edition of The Atlantic Monthly.

Situations With Enough Anxiety and Tension (SWEAT)

2008-07-21T22:12:00.002-04:00

So I’m settling into the new job, well, not really settling just yet--but I keep showing up and working at a feverish pace and they keep letting me, so I think that’s a good sign.

My new work environment is quite different, in some ways, than my previous one. For one thing, I have to learn a boatload of new acronyms. My division has one, all the little pieces within it have them--everything everywhere within the larger institution is labeled with an acronym of some sort. I’m learning my way through it all via a set of flashcards, and my days are melting down into a sea of capital letters. For example, after wandering lost in the halls a good eight minutes halfway into my first day (unable to locate my own office), I felt like a true Office-Misplacing Girl (OMG). Also, I’ve started filing everything that everyone brings to me according to a strategic system known as Having Everything in Large, Precarious Mounds Everywhere (HELPME).

wilting...

2008-07-19T14:16:00.003-04:00

The heat is really packing a punch these days. I checked the weekend weather forecast earlier this week, and the predictions of 96-degree weather sent me double-checking the search field to make sure I had, indeed, entered the zip code for Cambridge, MA, rather than for Miami or San Antonio. Steamin'.

I haven't had much time to focus on my sweat-drenched state of being, though, as I've been spending the week getting adjusted to a new job. (Quite a change, but a really good one.) And I've also been fitting in other activities like swimming and barbecuing and watching amusing films in The Guy's cave-like dwelling. The other day we watched "So I Married an Axe Murderer," which I had never seen in its entirety, and which the guy is forever quoting.

I thinking the blogging productivity will increase once I can get out of the heat and new-job phase. I think it's time to go submerge myself in some sort of body of water again.

memos...like the corners of my mind...

2008-07-13T20:35:00.004-04:00

I admit, I haven't been good about the blogging lately. I just got back from a weekend of camping (discovery: I need to do more camping), and have spent the last two weeks preparing to leave my job of nearly seven years to move on to another one. I've had a great time at said job, learned a lot and worked with great people--but 'tis time for a change.

I spent a good portion of this week packing up my desk, and although I thought I had purged a lot of things back when my company moved to a new building a year ago, I hadn't purged nearly enough. I had day planners from 2001 on up to this year; more than a dozen notebooks filled with notes taken during meetings; small "to-do" notebooks filled with lists of things that I needed, well, to do; and a whole lot of paper files that I somehow felt I needed. (Yes, I do think there may be a minor hording problem going on.) Going through it all made me a bit nostalgic and wax a bit of vintage Barbra. I could look back and see some of the old projects I had worked on and recall a memorable colleague or two who have moved out of state. It made me think of all the things I've learned, all the progress I've made, all the memories I have. It all made me almost want to keep all of that stuff and haul it home in five giant bags. (And that's, of course, when I came to my senses and recycled, recycled, recycled.)

So that's my story. And update: Pallie has returned! (I'm very relieved.)

Pallie, come home!

2008-07-07T22:52:00.004-04:00

Due to the fact that my mom is not much of an animal fan, I’ve never really had a pet. I had a brief stint with a pet canary and a few iridescent little fish, and my brother had some pet tree frogs—but no cats or dogs to speak of. But I do have a fondness for little, domesticated mammals—especially the cat who lives in the bar around the corner from my apartment. (Well, I don’t know if he really lives there, but he sure does hang there a whole lot.) After a long day, a bad date, etc., I’ve always enjoyed walking by and seeing the little guy relaxing in the window, sleeping or just watching the world outside.

So, imagine my horror when I saw this:

I’m hoping Pallie comes home soon.

because I’m trying to distract myself from the humidity

2008-06-30T21:29:00.004-04:00

We’re in the hazy, hot days of summer here, and I do love it—every sweaty, hair-frizzing minute of it. It’s sticky and steamy, but I do try to remember those deep, dark days of winter, and that seems to keep things in perspective.

I’ve mostly been spending some time in cool, air-conditioned spaces. My friend Jill and I went to a champagne event at Upstairs on the Square. It involved learning and eating tasty things and sitting at a table covered by an enormous quantity of glasses.

It also helps that The Guy lives in a cave-like subterranean dwelling (also known as a basement apartment). It stays unbelievably cool in there. And also yesterday he made pad Thai. (I’m happy to be anywhere where there is pad Thai.)

And when it’s uncomfortably hot out, one of the best places to be is in a movie theatre. And speaking of which, the other night I went on a big group outing to see “WALL-E,” which I thought really lived up to the hype.

girls (still) just want to have fun

2008-06-23T20:07:00.005-04:00

I spent this past weekend on Cape Cod with a bunch of my female friends. It was mainly a send-off for one particular friend among the bunch who is heading out to the Pacific Northwest for an awesome new job, and a chance for all of us to enjoy some fun and sun.

When I was in middle school, having little parties (especially slumber parties) with my girlfriends was the thing to do. We would gossip about how so-and-so clearly had a crush on so-and-so because at the recent school dance she had asked her friend to ask his friend if he would dance with her to “Honestly” by Stryper (it was a Catholic school, hence the Christian rock; you had to go to the public school dances to slow-dance to Axl Rose’s superior whistling in “Patience”). We’d eat pizza, watch movies on VHS, and drink enough cola to stay awake for a week. Mostly, though, we’d support each other. Inevitably, at least one girl in the group would be going through some sort of significant specimen of pre-adolescent drama. Maybe a smear campaign from a “queen bee” (they definitely existed before there were books written about them). Rejection by a boy. An unfortunate haircut. Each setback was considered high drama, and between bowls of microwave popcorn and experiments with a Ouija board and assorted impromptu lip synch concerts, we listened, sympathized and dispensed advice.

Of course, it’s a little different now. The dramas my friends and I face are beyond the note-passing phase, and we face big decisions and big transitions. On Sunday morning, I walked along the beach with my friend who is about to relocate her life to the other side of the country and another friend who’s having a baby in early September (her flowy juniors’ shirt dress, doubling as a fabulous maternity shirt, blowing in the sea breeze). We discussed the moving process and pregnancy—then got caught in a sudden downpour and ducked for scant cover near the snack bar, laughing as we watched other beachgoers scramble from the shore, the cold water beading on our skin. My friends and I may have some more substantial things to discuss now, but the need for support and for fun (be it in sharing beach reads, mixing some mojitos, watching crazy sci-fi) remains as endless as the consistent rolling and breaking of the ocean waves.

When I was in the 8th grade, a group of friends and I entered our school-wide lip synch competition with a fully choreographed presentation of Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” I spent weeks in my basement, perfecting my moves in the ripped denim shorts with Spandex biker shorts underneath, and I must say, we delivered quite the performance. A few years ago, I went to a stand-up comedy show at which I knew an old schoolmate was performing, and after the show I went up to him to say “hello” and congratulate him on the show. I wasn’t sure if he’d remember me (he was a couple of grades behind me in school, but his brother was in my class and his family lived right around the corner from mine). He not only remembered me, but he remembered my performance in the school lip synch contest. And not only did he remember it, but he claimed to have a videotape of it. (Good lord.) This is horrifying, on one level, to know that I am somewhere immortalized in all of my oversized-shirted, crimped-hair, bad-dancing glory. In another sense, though, I don’t mind so much. A part of me will always be singing this anthem, belting out the lyrics—loyal to her girlfriends and all about the fun.

food news

2008-06-18T19:46:00.003-04:00

I read a bunch of newspapers on a daily basis for work purposes, and one of the great perks of this happens on Wednesdays, when many publications run their food sections. Here's a round-up of some of the delicious food-related writing I feasted upon today:

Tasty frozen goodness
Read about it here.
When I was in Mexico I became completely fixated upon paletas, frozen treats so much better than almost anything you can find just about anywhere else.

Glorious goat cheese
Read about it here.
I love goat cheese. I love it on pizzas, in salads, on toast. I enjoyed this article, and will be making the goat cheese croquettes soon.

Hold the typos, please.
Read about it here.
I could really relate to this. I think the one that makes me the most crazy is the attempt to make something plural by using an apostrophe. (Calzone's, pita's, ice cream cone's.) Drives me banana's.

Celtic pride

2008-06-17T23:50:00.004-04:00

Dear Boston Celtics,
Thank you, thank you, thank you for winning the NBA championship. And not just winning it by a little, but by a crazy, crazy margin of greatness. I mean, not like you did this for me personally, but still, I am quite pleased. And now that there’s not going to be a game 7, I won’t have to spend another late night glued to a television before trying to pry myself out of bed the next morning, so that’s a plus.

The other day I was dining at Veggie Planet in Harvard Square. (Kevin Garnett, if you ever need a break from all those PB&J sandwiches you eat before every game, I highly recommend the pizza with squash and goat cheese.) Anyway, I was eavesdropping on the conversation at the next table (because the tables are so close to each other and I’m just a natural eavesdropper) and it seemed that the young couple there was on some sort of date. (Maybe a first or second date—you could feel the awkwardness.) The guy asked the girl if she followed Boston sports at all (a reasonable conversation-starter) and she responded that she avoided all of that nonsense and “didn’t base [her] identity on anything external.” Um, that’s all fine and good (albeit kind of snotty and sort of a pseudo-intellectual thing to say, in my opinion), but if waving a giant, green, foam finger in the air and cheering on the home team is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.

The Celtics were a significant part of my childhood. I spent summers at Kevin McHale Basketball Camp on Cape Cod and checked out from my local library every book on Larry Bird I could get my hands on. When we were learning about the concept of biographies in language arts class, I wrote one on Red Auerbach. The Celtics were (and still are) a link between my Dad and me. He was as much a fan in his childhood in the glory days of the ‘50s as I was in the glory days of the ’80s. He coached my basketball teams, always cheered me on and we cheered on the Celts together. Now we e-mail or call each other about the latest games. Like every true Celtics fan, he takes the good with the bad. All those dark years, when the team barely won, he kept watching. He kept the faith.

The last time the Celtics won the NBA championship, I was ten. I was waving some plastic green and white pompoms wildly in my family’s living room. I no longer have the pompoms (the foam finger is actually kind of cooler, I think), but I am just as excited, perhaps more, than I was then.

Best regards,
Cantabrigie

P.S. Kevin Garnett, my apologies for my criticism when you missed those foul shots in game 5. I certainly missed a few back in the day.

because there's never a bad time to think about what you're going to read on the beach

2008-06-16T13:57:00.002-04:00

I realize I owe a much longer and more substantial post after being a bit of a blog slacker lately (I have my reasons), but for the moment, I'd just like to share this fun article about quirky beach reads. (I'm all about the quirky.) If you're like me and choose your beach reads as carefully as your SPF, you'll enjoy.

it's kind of a tough time to be in Montana right now

2008-06-12T22:32:00.005-04:00

I recently discovered this very awesome link on Epicurious, and it is perhaps the most excellent thing I've found on Epicurious since I found this. The Seasonal Ingredient Map on Epicurious tells you what's in season when and where AND gives you recipes in which to use those ingredients.

I have loved farmers' markets for as long as I can remember, and I grew up with them out in the somewhat rural Western Massachusetts environs of my childhood. Now I go to the slightly more yuppified version in Harvard Square on Sunday mornings, but it's just and good (and frankly, if you consider the lady who sells both high-quality meats and wildflowers as well as the cider doughnut lady, the Harvard Square one may be superior). Increasingly, I've been trying to eat/cook local and, when possible, organic--especially since reading "The Omnivore's Dilemma" and "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle."

reunited (and yes, it feels so good)

2008-06-09T19:15:00.005-04:00

I spent the weekend up in Vermont at my alma mater. Making for an interesting "full circle" effect, it was as unbelievably steamin' hot as it was the summer I went there for a tour when I was in high school. The place is now apparently even more expensive and the buildings are far more elaborate, but the pure and simple Vermont beauty of it all remains very much the same. And let me just say that being at college ten years later is a whole lot less stressful than actually being in college. (There's no worrying about knowing the ins and outs of this, for example. Just good times visiting old friends and old places. (And some places that were like friends to me.))

the rain before the reunion

2008-06-06T12:03:00.004-04:00

My weekend is starting early, as I'm heading on out to my ten-year college reunion shortly. It's supposed to be a hot and steamy weekend here (and hopefully will also be warm a few hours north, where I'm heading), but right now it's cold and rainy. Best to get that all out of the way now, I guess.

I didn't go to my five-year college reunion, but I always said I'd go to the ten-year, so off I go. I expect it to be all kinds of interesting. More to come...

because sometimes it's good to take a different route home

2008-06-04T11:47:00.004-04:00

Yesterday the beautiful weather inspired me to walk home a different (longer) way, and I was reminded of the advantages of shaking things up a little. This new route enabled me to:

1.) Walk past an ice cream place, so of course I had to purchase/devour a small cup of coffee/Oreo frozen yogurt. Yum.

2.) Encounter a big table of books for sale (on the honor system--there was a note on a somewhat hidden box explaining to put the stickered cost of the book in the box; the fact that the box was still on the table with quite a bit of money on it--and with no one guarding it--was perhaps a testament to the fine people of Harvard Square). I snagged a paperback copy of Sarah Vowell's "Take the Cannoli" for four little dollars. I read it ages ago (via a borrowed copy) and would like to reread it this summer as part of my beach-reading efforts.

3.) See a blue jay. (I didn't get a picture because I wasn't quick enough on the draw.) Usually it's just all robins and pigeons, and, lately, the occasional cardinal. So the bluejay was really something special.

home cookin'

2008-06-02T21:49:00.005-04:00

After all that dining out in New York, I felt like I should cook dinner at home tonight (and bring in leftovers for lunch the next couple of days). Conveniently, I recently saw a recipe in Cooking Light (I love that magazine!) and wanted to test it out. And, if I do say so myself, it was a hit. It was easy and hearty and delicious, and also pretty nutritious. On top of that, it involves goat cheese (really, what more could I want?). I liked this with a light green salad and some spicy red wine. Without further ado:

Three-Cheese Baked Penne

from Cooking Light, May 2008

2 ½ cups uncooked whole wheat penne (about 8 oz.)

cooking spray

2 (4 oz.) links sweet Italian turkey sausage

1 cup finely chopped green bell pepper

1½ teaspoons dried Italian seasoning

1 teaspoon crushed red pepper

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

10 grape or cherry tomatoes, halved

1 garlic clove, minced

dash of salt

1 8oz. can garlic-and-herb tomato sauce [Note: I used plain and added a little extra garlic and herbs.]

¾ cup (3 oz.) shredded mozzarella cheese

½ cup (2 oz.) crumbled goat cheese [Note: I recommend using more if you love goat cheese as much as I do.]

¼ cup (1 oz.) grated fresh Parmesan cheese

1.) Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2.) Cook pasta. Drain and set aside.

3.) Coat a large nonstick skillet with cooking spray and heat over medium-high heat. Remove casings from sausage. Add sausage to pan; cook two minutes, stirring to crumble. Add bell pepper and next 6 ingredients (through salt) to pan; sauté 6 minutes or until bell pepper is tender. Stir in tomato sauce. Reduce heat, and simmer 5 minutes. Add pasta to pan, tossing gently to coat. Spoon pasta mixture into an 8-inch square baking dish coated with cooking spray. Stir in mozzarella and goat cheese; sprinkle with Parmesan. Bake at 350 degrees for 7 minutes or until bubbly and top is browned. [Note: I had to cook for way longer than that—it probably depends on your oven. Next time I think I’ll bump up the heat a little.] Yields about 6 servings.

more fun than you can shake a Coney Island hot dog at

2008-06-02T20:31:00.006-04:00

I just got back from a big weekend in the Big Apple, and I've decided I need to get to that city more often. The Guy and I went for the weekend, mainly to check out this, a big sculpture show that was quite interesting. We also were able to catch up with some very excellent and hospitable friends, who hosted us in their apartments and showed us around the city.

New York is so different from Boston in so many ways. It's bigger and louder, and everywhere you go there's a sense that anything could happen--whether it's a steady stream of glam drag queens walking by during dinner or a celebrity sighting, New York always seems to be churning with spectacle and possibility.

We spent Friday night at a friend's place in Manhattan. Before dinner at an excellent little Italian place (pink vodka sauce to die for), we walked around the West Village and went out to the water to watch the sun set.

On Saturday night, we were in Brooklyn staying with some of The Guy's friends. We went to dinner at Picket Fence, where I had encountered some of the finest macaroni and cheese I have ever had the privilege of experiencing. On Sunday we met up with some of my grad school friends at the Brooklyn Flea (bustling flea market filled with funky things and organic deliciousness). Beforehand, we had some extra time and wandered around the sculpture garden at the Pratt Institute.

Eventually, it was back to Grand Central Station, which (I think I had forgotten) is really beautiful.

some end-of-May thoughts

2008-05-29T19:56:00.003-04:00

It's almost June and I am ever so excited. Although I see merit in each month of the year and appreciate something about each and every month, I think in my heart of hearts I just really favor June, July and August. I think I have ingrained within me a sense of summer vacation during those months (even though I've been on a 9-to-5, often 8-to-6, working world schedule for quite some time now). And also there is just something so liberating about wearing skirts and sandals and tank tops again, feeling like my skin gets to breathe again. And, well, considering this past winter, it's just nice not to feel like a shivering bundle of snot. For example.

I will be heading to New York City this weekend for a little Big Apple adventure, and this is ever so fitting because earlier this week I went to a sneak preview screening of "Sex & the City." One of my co-workers had an extra free pass and I think I may be biologically incapable of turning down a free movie--I mean unless it's "Battlefield Earth" or something--so before I knew it I was in the movie theater downtown eating some mighty tasty curly fries and standing in a long line that consisted of about 80% women. I enjoyed the movie overall. I've never been a huge fan of the series, but I've always enjoyed the clothes and the dialogue, and that's what I liked the most about the movie, too. I had issues with the things I've always had issues with (I'm going to refrain from elaborating, because I don't think I could do so without in some way hinting at key plot points). I agreed with (and chuckled over) some of the points in James Verniere's review of it for the Boston Herald (but again, I'm not linking to it because it reveals some plot points--if you've seen the movie or couldn't care less, you can find the review easily on the Herald site).

See you in June!

because sometimes thinking about products is kind of fun

2008-05-25T16:59:00.011-04:00

One of my favorite bloggers likes to sometimes do a round-up of some of her latest favorite products, and it's sort of a fun read (kind of like a more personal type of Consumer Reports). So, since I haven't really done this before, and think it would be fun (and I'm on vacation in the Berkshires right now and am therefore all about the fun), here's a little look at some products I really like.

1.) Gold Bond Medicated Lotion
I'm generally a pretty even-keeled person, but my skin, however, is a total drama queen. I get weird heat rashes, winter eczema, crazy reactions to insects bites, and you don't even want to know what happened to my feet one time when I had an alleged encounter with some sort of poisonous foliage. I need something to keep me from clawing my skin off on a regular basis, and I've found that Gold Bond Lotion (I like Extra Strength) really does the trick. I used to use the powder, but the lotion is a lot better (and eliminates the white powdery film that used to be on my bedroom floor).

2.) The Body Shop Lip & Cheek Stain
This is a more portable and easier-to-use version of Benefit's BeneTint, which I have loved for a long time. It just gives a nice, rosy glow.

3.)Alba Moisturizing Cream Shave
I love this stuff and buy it whenever it's on sale at Whole Food. It's good for dry, sensitive skin and it smells amazing. My favorites are Mango Vanilla and Coconut Lime.

4.) Burt's Bees Deep Cleansing Cream, Soap Bark & Chamomile
I used to use Noxzema when I was in high school, until my dermatologist said my skin was way too dry and sensitive to be using it. But I liked the refreshing, cooling tingle of Noxzema, and I relive that feeling now with this. It definitely gets your skin squeaky clean, but is mild enough for delicate skin, and one tube lasts a really, really long time.

Sometimes a pair of gray suspenders can really save the day.

2008-05-23T19:30:00.003-04:00

I have no idea just how it is Friday (perhaps a common theme for me), but it is, and I must attribute my less-than-prolific blogging to one very busy week. Most importantly, I suppose, is the fact that I spent Wednesday and Thursday evenings with The Guy--and his parents. Yep, we’ve entered the "meet the parents" territory--it’s a land I haven’t visited in a while, and I had forgotten what an interesting and thrilling (and somewhat nerve-wracking) world it can be.

Wednesday night the plan was to all meet up at around 6pm at the MFA. The Guy had warned that he might be running a little late. I ended up getting there at around 6ish, and briefly attempted to spot the parents, but considering I had only seen a couple of photos, the only real clue I had from The Guy was that he has his dad’s chin, and there were about a dozen older couples who looked vaguely like the people in the photos, I was at a loss. So, I went to the museum bookstore (which I love) to peruse for a bit and also to try to regroup. The Guy called to update me on his progress. He said he’d probably be there in about fifteen minutes, and the rest of the conversation went a little something like this:

Me: I tried to spot them, but I can’t find anyone who looks distinctively like your parents. I feel weird about going up to random men and staring at their chins. (Trying to let no signs of slight panic show in my voice.)

Him: That’s understandable.

Me: It’s like, “Excuse me, Sir, may I please examine your chin for a moment?”

Him: (Laughing.) Yeah, I can see why you might not want to do that. Well, for what it’s worth, my dad is probably wearing gray suspenders.

Me: Hmmm, that’s a good clue.

I wandered back out to the lobby, and sure enough, there was a man, sporting gray suspenders, sitting on a bench by the door. (Unfortunately, at that very moment, The Guy’s mom had just headed off on a tour and it wasn’t until a while later that we located her.) The dad and I talked for quite a while before The Guy eventually arrived and it was all very pleasant and interesting and my anxiety diffused pretty quickly.

So, long story short, two excellent evenings were spent in the company of The Guy, his very nice parents, and some of the city’s excellent art offerings. (We spent one evening at the MFA, the other at the ICA.) Once I got over the initial nervousness, I felt at ease with the parents, perhaps in part because I feel so at ease with The Guy.

It was good to spend some more time in the ICA; I had only been in its new building once before. After we had toured the museum, we sat (quite tired) on a bench in a really beautiful part of the building that hangs out over the water. It had been a rainy evening, but the clouds were just starting to clear, and something like the remains of a sunset emerged--first gray, then bluish, then a slightly muddled orange and pink. We watched and sat and talked. His parents joked with each other about the kinds of things that people who’ve been together for ages joke about. The ocean below us appeared to move in even, serene ripples--mirroring my own quietly buoyant sense of calm.

Hello, springtime. You are delicious.

2008-05-19T20:59:00.009-04:00

Okay, so it's really not ideal to have a food post right next to the E. coli post. Who's the editor of this blog?! She should be fired! (Oh...wait...)

Anywho, I had a meeting of my dinner club last night, so a friend and I cooked up a storm of spring-themed deliciousness. We're talking asparagus soup; a spring salad with oranges, olives and walnuts; grilled mushrooms; risotto with fresh peas; lamb with oranges and olives; and a flourless orange and ginger cake for dessert. (Yes, there was much zesting and juicing of citrus.) Everything was really good; I think I especially loved the dessert. (Which, really, is probably not so surprising.) Look at how pretty it was:

And speaking of pretty, look at the loveliness of the table:

You can find the recipe for the dessert (you know you want it) here.

Weekend observations so far

2008-05-17T22:15:00.004-04:00

1.) Good & Plenty candy looks a whole lot like E. coli.
Last night my friend Ellen and I went to an event at the Harvard Bookstore. It was a lecture on the new book “Microcosm: E. coli and the New Science of Life” by science journalist Carl Zimmer. (Admittedly, talk of bacteria might not seem to be an obvious choice for Friday night fun--but here in Cambridge it kind of is, and the event was full.) The talk was really fascinating--there's so much going on in the world of E. coli that I really had no idea about. Beforehand, Ellen and I decided to purchase some candy at CVS as a snack for the event, and ended up settling on Good & Plenty (we both like the tasty licorice-flavored treat)—and after purchasing, Ellen pointed out that, come to think of it, Good & Plenty looks quite a lot like E. coli. This point was further driven home at the event, as it featured a stuffed animal-type E. coli as a prop (purchased from www.giantmicrobes.com, which features a bunch of products that are simultaneously cute and kind of disgusting).

2.) Lots of banjo-playing going on along the banks of the Charles.
Today the weather was so perfect that I went for a nice, long walk along the river. Along the way, I witnessed three (count ‘em, three!) guys playing banjo. One was standing on a little dirt area that stretched out close to the water, another was sitting beside a woman on a bench and serenading her, and yet another was sitting on the grass in the shade of a tree. I’m liking this trend. I’ve loved the banjo ever since I saw “The Muppet Movie.”

3.) Any movie that incorporates Hawaii and a Dracula rock opera is okay with me.
I just saw “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” and thoroughly enjoyed it. Judd Apatow usually manages to crack me up, and I loved how this movie constantly makes fun of celebrity and the absurd things that become popular songs and TV shows. And it was fun to see Kristen Bell in a movie--I loved “Veronica Mars.”

oh, so about The Fonz

2008-05-14T22:57:00.004-04:00

So it has been one of those weeks and I now cannot believe it is late on Wednesday, and I have still not yet shared with you the awesomeness that occurred on Sunday. It was beautifully sunny and warm, I had a great brunch with a group of friends, and I saw some friends perform in a very intriguing concert. And if that's not enough for you, let me also add that I saw The Fonz.

Here he is in this dark and grainy image--but still, it's THE FONZ! (In case you haven't noticed, I'm just going to keep writing "The Fonz" in this post.)

Henry Winkler was doing a reading from his children's book series. The books center on a fourth-grader with some learning challenges and the wackiness that ensues. (Henry Winkler personally dealt with major difficulties in school and didn't realize he was dyslexic until he was an adult.) The sections he read were hilarious, as was his introduction about his childhood and the whole process that led to him writing the books. He just seems like the same old charming Fonz, although it was kind of funny because when we has about to start reading he mentioned that he had forgotten his reading glasses (and couldn't read well without them), and someone in the audience passed a pair up to him. So the ever-slick, ever-tough Arthur Fonzarelli was reading a children's book aloud while wearing a middle-aged Cambridge woman's reading glasses. Talk about jumping the shark.

sometimes the original is just as weird as the remake...

2008-05-11T16:04:00.008-04:00

This weekend has featured a relatively overcast Saturday and an excellently sunny Sunday, which is really ideal in my book, as this allows for both some movie time and some outdoor time.

Yesterday I saw "The Thomas Crown Affair" (the original one) at the Brattle. I'm often not a fan of remakes (for example, there was absolutely no need to remake this into this), so I always like to see the original, when I can. Although in the case of "The Thomas Crown Affair," I don't think the version from the '60s nor the version from the '90s was particularly great (and Roger Ebert seems to agree). I saw the '90s version in the theater (when it first came out) and thought it was pretty entertaining, but sort of absurd. Likewise, I thought that in the original film the plot is quite thin and kind of ridiculous (if you're investigating a guy for bank robbery, you probably don't want to start sleeping with him--that's just not going to turn out well). However, Faye Dunaway's clothes and hair provide lots of entertainment, and she also made me kind of long for some fake eyelashes.