Giving thanks

Phew! Finally catching my breath after a whirlwind Thanksgiving holiday, which included stints in D.C., Connecticut, and New York in varying degrees. I've never not spent Thanksgiving near home with my whole family, so it was a bit of an unconventional adventure. It was great to spend time with my sister and her husband and his family, though, and experience a touch of winter and their traditions. It was never too terribly cold with the exception of one day when we walked down to a very pretty, very chilly beach.

We had Thanksgiving dinner at a magnificent home that made me feel like a very patriotic American and sing songs from the musical Ragtime in my head. (In 1902, Father built a house at the crest of the Broadview Avenue hill in New Rochelle, New York, and it seemed, for some years thereafter, that all the family's days would be warm and fair ... Fine weather, isn't it? Isn't it? Now that we're out of the city, isn't it? Nothing like the city ... Safe? Yes, everything's safe in New Rochelle ... )

As for running ... after completing four solid weeks of running training, week five (Thanksgiving week) was basically a bust except for a short but lovely run when I was away. It was lovely because I got to run over paths and bridges that looked like this:

And that wasn't even the only spectacular park we visited! We also went here:

What is better than a bunch of trees and lakes and hills and the sun shining through the branches at a state park in Connecticut on the second to last day of November? Nothing. Nothing, that's what!

Week six of training got off to a late start today ... it was very cold and windy and gray and wet this morning, with the misty drizzle basically drenching every inch of me by the time I was done. It was only a short 20-minute run, but I think it was about all I could handle after getting a bit derailed. I'm not too worried about it, though. I got some new shoes (inspired by Linda) and they felt okay. (I got the black and gold ... the color options in my size were limited, and this choice made me feel Saints proud.) I think the run was too short to fully evaluate them. I guess my shins will probably decide in the end, just like they do everything else! (My watch hasn't worked for the last two runs, so I hope I'll be back on track with keeping up with my pace and distance soon.)

I've been doing a lot of reading ... that's one great thing about traveling long distances. I finished An Abundance of Katherines and Paper Towns by John Green (both of which I hope to write about soon) and The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing: Traitor to the Nation (volumes one and two), a staggering reading experience that I wrote about over here.

My greatest TV surprise lately was accidentally stumbling upon Indigo Girls: Live at the Roxy on Palladia, a channel I didn't even know I had. I take this is a special cosmic gift since I just happened to see it when scrolling through my guide and it was on that very night and doesn't appear to be airing again any time soon. It just came out on DVD, so it's available for purchase, but I got it for free in all its HD glory! It features many performances that I've watched over and over on YouTube, as well as World Falls and Closer to Fine and Cannonball and Last Tears and Don't Think Twice, It's Alright, all with my beloved Brandi Carlile. I mean, Shame on You? The Wood Song? What more could a girl want? The whole thing is just heavenly.

(In other TV news, Ugly Betty and So You Think You Can Dance and Parks & Recreation and Modern Family continue to make me happier than anything else on right now. I'm so behind on Friday Night Lights that I can't speak to it at the moment, but I'm sure once I catch up it will be at the top of the list as usual. And the fact that Chuck returns next month ... forget about it. I can't wait!)

Meanwhile, I'm back at boot camp, and you know it's been too long since you were last there when the teacher whips out the orange cones and the first thing you feel is irrational hope that she's brought candy since they're the same orange color as the wrappers on all those Reese's peanut butter Christmas trees you've been eating. Oops.

I still believe in summer days

Oh, summer weekends. I love you.

Project Exhaustion commenced on Friday morning. Zuko and I set out for a walk before work, which sent him out of his mind with happiness. I decided to stay in and be quiet that evening, so I made a veggie omelet and watched True Blood, which is pretty trashy, almost shockingly so. But I'll probably keep watching it with the excuse that it's summer.

I got up early Saturday morning and hit the streets again with Zuko. This time we decided to go ahead and run two miles. Frequent stops to lift his leg notwithstanding, he was a pretty decent running partner, and I think he had a great time. I made it to the farmers' market early enough for fresh eggs and also picked up some baby tomatoes and a basket of sweet peppers (yellow, red, purple, etc.) and some more of the spicy purple onions I got last week. I went home and did some chores and baked some sugar cookies. I went to the pet store and spent an ungodly sum on items to treat Zuko's ailment and distract him from making it worse. I bathed him for the second consecutive Saturday, this time in some medicated oatmeal shampoo and some kind of conditioner that is supposed to help hot spots. These products are probably a total sham, but whatever. I think he's enjoying the TLC, and I sure enjoy having a clean dog. I've been brushing him a ton and overall just trying to shower him with love and attention. I bought some Missing Link upon a reader's suggestion and have been adding it to their food just for good measure. I went on a 1000-yard swim that afternoon ... it was very hot outside and I could feel my back baking in the sun despite sunscreen, but there were giant sprinklers shooting out over the pool, so that helped. I continue to love swimming so much I'm ready to build a pool in my backyard. My backyard is totally big enough for a pool. How awesome would that be?

Saturday night, I went out to hear my brother play with my parents, and a friend came along and we stayed for a long, fun catch-up visit after my parents headed home. The musical highlight was hearing my brother's version of "Murder in the City" for the first time, which thrilled & touched my heart, especially considering that (a) I was with him the first time I ever heard it and (b) his version was awesome. (P.S. New Avett Brothers single is very pretty indeed.)

Sunday morning dawned, and something magical was in the air. It was cool. Actually cool. I don't know what forces of nature aligned to make this happen, but it was jarring in the most excellent possible way. I was in shock. I think it was in the mid-70s when I headed out for my 13.5-mile bike ride, and while I certainly got very sweaty, as usual, it was totally bearable and pleasant outside. It was therefore a great ride. I didn't need to downshift on any "hills" (in other words, parts of the route that are at the slightest uphill incline) but instead was able to pedal through them, which makes me think I might be getting a wee bit stronger.

It was so lovely that I decided to grab the dogs when I got home after changing out of my hideous (but lifesaving) padded biking shorts and take them both on a walk. I decided on a whim to head to the dog park, and I'm glad I did. Neither of them is super dog park-y -- they don't wrestle or play chase with the other dogs, and Zuko was not having it when a giant mastiff tried to start humping him, and Daisy mostly stayed close to me. But I, for one, leaned against the fence in the shade and had a great time watching the other dogs play. A big golden retriever sprinted across the park from one baby pool to the other, jumping in and rolling around then leaping out and repeating this action over and over in the other pool. In something out of a comedy script, a big pack of dogs played chase with a rubber ball that reached such heights of hilarity that the entire human population of spectators was laughing heartily in unison. Daisy and Zuko did not roll in the pools, but at least they stood in them briefly. So that was fun.

When we got home, I wasn't ready to be inside yet, so I walked to the coffee shop for an iced coffee. Being able to walk anywhere and enjoy being outside this much by late morning in July is unheard of. It felt like a little gift. I loved it ... I felt so in love with my entire neighborhood, seriously. I cooked a farmer's market egg and had some plain yogurt with berries mixed in for a late breakfast. It was a perfect Sunday morning.

Soon it was time to head to my co-worker's house to help her bubble-wrap household items, which took the rest of the afternoon. Then I cooked dinner with some fresh shrimp from my mom and my farmers' market items ... so good. ("Food reclaims its story, and some of its nobility, when the person who grew it hands it to you." --Michael Pollan, In Defense of Food. And that is why I love the farmers' market. But more on that later.) I attempted kale chips, inspired by Erin, sprinkled with olive oil and kosher salt and a little romano cheese, but they fell a little short ... I think I didn't let them cook long enough because they were a little soggy. I'm going to try again.

Monday was an evening outing to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. The pacing was weird, the scene transitions were choppy, and the Quidditch brooms were more phallic than ever, but the acting was good, the effects were grand, and the end was moving. I was not crazy about this book, and the movie was way too long, but Alan Rickman's line readings alone made it worth seeing (along with the marvelous Jim Broadbent, beloved by me in everything he ever does). Best part of movie, possibly, was seeing the terrific Where the Wild Things Are trailer for the first time.

Today began with a two-mile run with Zuko before work, which was sweaty but nice. His leg does not appear to be getting much better, but it doesn't seem to be getting worse, so I am cautiously optimistic. Tonight I ate some delicious fresh fish cooked by my mom, about a pound of her broccoli salad, and a pecan praline.

Meanwhile, weirdly, one of my favorite summer songs is called "Winter Song." It's by Sara Bareilles & and my beloved Ingrid Michaelson. I first heard it on one of this season's audition episodes of So You Think You Can Dance, of all places. Here is the song's very cute video. My favorite lines are these, and I find myself singing them over and over to myself as this summer goes by.

I still believe in summer days
The seasons always change
And life will find a way

D.C. for the 4th

Another summer, another trip to D.C. to see my sister. I'm not going to break it down day by day; instead I'll break it down memory by memory, most of them involving good food and good people.

Crying abundant and very cathartic tears on the airplane while finishing The Book Thief on the way there; a Thai dinner in the rain; visiting with my sister's officemates, some of whom are major So You Think You Can Dance Fans, and feeling as if I'd found My People; seeing my sister and brother-in-law's very cute apartment for the first time; waiting in a very long line while chatting over iced coffee for brunch at Eastern Market, where I got The Brick, a creation with an egg, a slab of ham, and actual hashbrowns sandwiched between two slices of toast, and a side of grits, of course; going running in a place where it was 74 degrees in the middle of the day, which felt like a miracle, enjoying the pretty sidewalk flowers in my sister's neighborhood and seeing the Capitol appear when rounding the curve of a hill; stopping at a fancy grocery store after my run and being yelled at for accidentally cutting in line at the seafood counter and getting between a woman and her giant bag of crabs; feasting upon a creation of my brother-in-law's, peppers and onions and garlic and tomatoes mashed up in a blender and simmered forever and ever until sweet and delicious pasty goo that when served with shrimp over pasta with a side of rosemary bread rivaled the best dishes I have ever eaten in an Italian restaurant; watching episode after episode of season five of The West Wing, one of the years I didn't watch it, and deeming it, in its often jarring Sorkin-less weirdness, "Bizarro West Wing"; going on another run on the 4th of July, again relishing the mindblowingly pleasant temperature, heading around the Capitol all the way down the Mall through the Folk Life Festival, feeling mighty patriotic and swell when running up the sidewalk sloping up to the Washington Monument, meeting up there with my sister and bro-in-law for stretching and a stroll through the very beautiful World War II Memorial, taking a moment at the pillar engraved with "Louisiana"; stopping for a very cold and totally worth it $6 cup of Stella Artois at a Wales tent at the festival, remembering our most wonderful time there five years ago this summer; gathering with some of their very nice friends over beers and snacks before heading en masse on foot back over to the Mall to watch the incredible fireworks lighting up the sky behind the Washington Monument; heading to the Dupont Circle farmers' market to see B.'s sister at her booth and enjoying seeing her and tasting her wares; walking from there over to the lovely Tabard Inn for an amazing brunch of fontina grits, a warm basket of assorted breads, iced coffee, a mimosa, an asparagus/sundried tomato fritatta, waffles topped with fruit, and a side of bacon, yes ma'am; walking past the White House and feeling a surge of joy and pride relative to its current occupancy; going to see Away We Go, which I found refreshingly honest and funny and real; dining on the sidewalk of a Cuban restaurant with my dear old friend Elizabeth, ever-wonderful; taking an impromptu day trip to Annapolis, which is surprisingly quaint and charming, eating crab cake sandwiches by the bay, strolling up and down the streets window shopping, and leaping around the grounds of the state capitol like lunatics; and dining at Matchbox with more of their friends, who were delightful, and enjoying veggie pizza with potato chips on top and several more Stellas.

Before I left for this trip I had kind of a heavy heart, and I think getting away was just what I needed. I think the best part of any vacation, on top of the great times had in its duration, is the feeling it leaves in me once I'm home. In every moment of fun and laughter with my sister and her husband, both of whom I love beyond measure; with every nod of understanding over fajitas in a discussion of how we enter the world; with every sight of the crape myrtles which seemed so much brighter there, not being burned and baked by the scorching heat we're having here these days; with every sip of cold beer; with every step on my runs through their neighborhood and past those buildings and monuments that never cease to leave me a little in awe ... I felt my heart growing lighter and letting go.

Now that I'm home, I feel more free, more focused, and more ready to embrace the pleasures of the summer ahead of me. I feel ready to enjoy this dinner I just made of onions and bell peppers and zucchini and yellow squash and carrots and celery and almonds and green peas and chick peas and whole wheat orzo topped off with a little romano cheese. I feel like me again.

Catching Up

Before it gets away from me, I want to get a little down about a wonderful weekend. I've already posted about the concerts, which were both amazing, but I want to record what else went on. It was a rare weekend when the whole family was in town -- my sister and her husband (they live out of state) and my brother and his new girlfriend (they travel a lot). My sister had the inspired idea to rent out a private karaoke room at a Thai restaurant in an early celebration of my parents' 40th wedding anniversary. We thought about inviting other people, but in the end, it was just us, and we had what can only be called a blast. There was dancing, there was drinking, there was so much eating, and there was plenty of singing. One of my favorite parts was watching my mother watch my brothers sing together. Their harmonies were admittedly beautiful but she was just blown away. Many pictures were taken, some of which I will eventually get around to posting. We also went to one of my brother's gigs, had boiled crawfish, had beignets and cafe au lait, and just had a merry time. I loved having everyone here. Just sitting around eating my mom's crawfish etouffee or lying around on the bed with my sister and brother-in-law were delightful. It was a really wonderful weekend and one I will not soon forget.

Randomness: The Great Performances special In the Heights: Chasing Broadway Dreams is excellent, even if you are not familiar with the show. Definitely worth checking out.

Meanwhile. I am still watching season two of Chuck and loving it a lot and am thrilled it has been renewed. I am reading The Wednesday Wars, finally, and loving it.

I got from Netflix the DVD of the Rent: Live on Broadway special that my brother and I went to see last fall. The special features are indeed quite special. I highly recommend both the live stage show itself as well all of the featurettes, which are VERY WONDERFUL. Seeing Jonathan Larson's parents and sister, all kinds of backstage goodness, the longtime crew members, the closing cast, the original cast (except Adam Pascal -- where were you, Adam Pascal? What could have been more important than this?). Everyone crying and laughing and singing and embracing and remembering, forget about it, it was too much, the tears poured like rain. Rent, I thought I was all cried out over you. But I was wrong.

Once again I have found myself engaging in last minute triathlon registration ridiculousness. A few days ago, I signed up for one that is tomorrow. The distances aren't terribly long, so I think I'll be okay, though I am a bit apprehensive about the biking part since the farthest I've ever gone in my life was seven miles. I'm just going to take it slow, try not to fall off or crash, and try to enjoy myself. I'm viewing it as a chance to road trip with a friend and as good practice for the one in August. I know myself, and I know my anxiety over that one will be greatly lessened over the summer by having this one under my belt.

This morning I went to the farmer's market and came away with fresh eggs, cucumbers, strawberries, bell peppers, yellow squash, and carrots. I feel really good about this. The dogs also approve.

Avetts at Jazz Fest

Clearly I was thrilled to learn a few months back that my beloved Avett Brothers would be at Jazz Fest. My brother scored tickets and tent passes from a friend, so we headed to the city after lunch on Sunday, squeezed into a parking spot on a side street, and waltzed on into the Fair Grounds on a beautiful and sunny day. The tent was really swell -- couches, beers, big screen TVs, speakers, and best of all, misting machines. We parked ourselves on bar stools at tables and enjoyed Blue Moons with orange slices and felt like we were living the life. As the mist spewed forth upon us, I wondered aloud, "Do you think the chemicals making the mist cold are getting into our beer and poisoning us?" He pondered this for a moment and then sighed contentedly, "It's worth it."

Soon it was time to head over to their stage. There was already a pretty big crowd there, but we were able to get pretty close. What can I say? I love this band. They started with "Shame," one of my favorites (you have to scroll about 2 minutes into that video for the song to get started), and they played lots of songs I knew and several I didn't, my favorite of which by a mile was "Salvation Song." (Link is here. Be sure to click "HD" if you can on any videos I've linked.)

Something I love about the Avett Brothers is that they are, I've decided, fundamentally optimistic. Their songs are openly emotional and honest and not afraid to be boldly and proudly emotional and about family and about making the world a better place. That might sound super cheesetastic, but it doesn't come across that way. It's not that their songs don't also have darkness and sadness because sometimes they do. But sometimes they are so nakedly hopeful and romantic and I can't help but believe that they mean every word.

We came for salvation
We came for family
We came for all that's good, that's how we'll walk away
We came to break the bad
We came to cheer the sad
We came to leave behind the world a better way

I am not conveying this well. I just think that there's a time for music that makes you feel dark and twisty, as Meredith Grey might say, and there's time for music that lifts you up and makes you want to shout and sing and feel brave and happy.

I waited in a long line at the merchandise tent following the show so they could sign my CD and I could shake their hands. I have always regretted not waiting in line to meet Anne Lamott. So I decided what the hell. I moved across the table really quickly and they scribbled initials or signatures or whatever on the CD, and I thanked them for coming and told them that their music means a lot to me. I wasn't sure what else to say. They were nice.

And I took a lot of pictures. And I said this over at Flickr and want to say it here. These were not taken with a great camera or with great skill, but they were taken with great affection and joy.

If I had to pick one song as my favorite of theirs, and it would be difficult if not impossible, I think "Murder in the City" would be it. (Here's an excellent video of the song at the fest. Click "HD" and let her load.) When the opening chords started, I turned around searched the faces in the crowd for my brother's ... he'd ended up a little ways behind me in the crowd. We waved and nodded and smiled.

It was a wonderful day.

In Treatment and other stuff.

(The following paragraph contains spoiler information related to casting for season one of In Treatment. You might want to skip it if you care about that sort of thing. I won't give anything away specifically in regards to the plot, but you might be able to infer things about the plot from this information.)

(Spoilery information starts ...)

I'm midway through week 8 of season one of this show with one more week to go. Like most people of my generation, I suspect, I first saw Glynn Turman as Col. Taylor on A Different World, one of my favorite shows of the '80s-'90s. I never missed an episode. And I liked him on that well enough but never really knew what he was capable of as an actor, clearly, because he so stunned me with his performance on In Treatment that I could not stop crying for the entire episode. I mean, I cried the entire way through. He was so good and so powerful that I couldn't stop thinking in the back of my mind, while the power and sadness of the episode and his performance swirled around me and streamed down my face, "If he did not win the Guest Actor Emmy for this performance, there is NO justice in the world!" Once the episode ended, I looked it up, and he did! He won. And my God, he deserved it. There have been episodes of this show that have had me on the edge of my seat, certainly, particularly the ones with Sophie and with Gina (Dianne Weist won the Best Supporting Actress Emmy! I just learned this, too! Hooray!). But I think this one surpassed them all. Wow. That's all I can really say. If I had to describe the emotional impact of this show on me, I think I would have to say that 37 episodes in, it has really taken it out of me. But it has also filled me right back up again. Over and over. It's been a strange and wonderful TV experiment and experience for me. I might have to sign up for HBO for the first time in my life just so I can dive into season two.

(... spoilery information over.)

I don't think I mentioned that AB Chao and Co. came to town last month. It was great to see them. It should come as no surprise that they're a fun bunch. It is strange to think that she lives so near and yet so far. Soon I shall join her group, Bench Monday. I just need to find myself a good sturdy bench.

I am making preliminary plans to go back to D.C. and to Hawaii this year. I need to get myself together and make it happen. I am about to get dressed to go to Jazz Fest with my brother. I cannot believe Today Is Avett Brothers Day. Last year? April 29. This year? April 26. Perhaps this should just become an April tradition. I cannot wait. I am about to freak out with excitement. More later!

Randomosity

(1) I now own my favorite comfy summer sandal in three colors (black, chocolate, and tan), which is possibly excessive. But wearing these sandals basically feels like not wearing shoes at all. I love them. (A note on sizing: I normally wear an 8.5, but the size 8 in these fits perfectly. I have a narrow foot, so your mileage may vary.) I am not the type of person who can wear sassy summer sandals every day of the week. My feet just cannot handle it. These sandles are awesomely comfortable, and I think everyone should buy a pair. So let it be written, so let it be done.

(2) I've never known much about the Buckleys; maybe I've been living under a rock, but they've never really been on my radar. I remember seeing Christopher Buckley last year on The Daily Show and thinking he was funny, and I remember the brouhaha surrounding his endorsement of Obama. But that's about it. The Buckleys might all be a bunch of a-holes for all I know. I read this story today by Christopher Buckley today. It's definitely tinged with a certain snootocity that might just come with being a Buckley, but I got the sense that a lot of love and care went into writing it. It moved me. Like, a LOT.

(3) Elissa, yes! It's okay. Not writing about it around here. But it's okay.

(4) Big fan of tonight's dinner!

That there is a whole wheat English muffin topped with (probably very unhealthy, but whatever) jarred pizza sauce along with broccoli, fresh rosemary, celery, onion, garlic, green bell pepper, yellow squash, chicken breast with lots of cayenne pepper, and a little grated mozzarella cheese. I sauteed all the toppings (except for the cheese, obviously) in a skillet in olive oil before baking the teeny pizzas because the last time I attempted to make pizza without cooking the veggies first they stayed rock hard. This way worked like a charm. Yum!

(5) Not that this is in any way original, but my Adam Lambert obsession began weeks ago and is still going strong. I decided from the first time I saw him on American Idol that he is made to star on Broadway as Judas in Jesus Christ Superstar. A little YouTube scouring, and voila! A preview of what is clearly his destiny. I also quite frankly enjoy Adam Lambert in a face full of make-up with a bare midriff. How did we live before YouTube? I'll never know. My sister is staunchly in the Kris camp, and he is definitely adorable and talented, but there is something about this seasoned, make-up wearing, boy kissing musical theater guy making it big on the national stage that really appeals to me.

(6) I am on the hunt for a healthy bread I can make sandwiches with pretty much every day of the week for lunch. I am willing to buy it at Whole Foods/Paycheck if necessary. I just do not know what to look for when it comes to sandwich bread. It all seems to have dozens of ingredients. Does anyone know of a healthy or semi-healthy loaf of bread I can buy?