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.

Weekend update

Another weekend done! It started off mighty fine with the best massage I've probably ever had. (To backtrack, I had a really bad massage last weekend. I've always maintained that any massage is better than no massage, but I was proven very, very wrong. It started with my asking the guy to change the music because I knew I would not be able to relax to the beat of new age techno music and went downhill from there. It wasn't inappropriate at all, it was just uncomfortable, not the least bit therapeutic, and akin to what it must feel like to lie face down on a fault line during an earthquake. I knew I needed another massage, and soon, to counterbalance the heinousness of the experience with someone who was actually in tune with my body and could help relieve some of its soreness, which was mighty and unprecedented after two weeks of boot camp and running.) This latest massage was delivered by an old family friend, so not only was there an automatic comfort level, she was really, really good, and I was so grateful. It was a gift.

This glorious massage was followed night out at a local evening celebrating the arts ... I haven't been drinking very much over the past few months, but I had a few cocktails ... some kind of frozen vodka concoctions with chambord at the suggestion of the bartender ... okay! I'd never heard of such a thing before, but sure. It was one of those nights in a restaurant where it's totally packed and there's a band playing in the corner and you can barely hear over the cling clang of the glasses and all was merry, even though it was a bit drizzly outside.

Saturday ... Saturday ... blur? Class, too early. A visit to the library where I checked out a ton of books, including everything I haven't read by John Green and both volumes of Octavian Nothing. Homework for many, many hours. A game, the culmination of which has caused much wrath in this town.

I got a good night's sleep on Saturday for the first time in weeks upon weeks, which was a sweet and blessed relief. On Sunday morning, it was time for my first group run, which went pretty well. Then it was more homework. And more football, which thankfully had a happier ending than the day before.

The weekend wrapped up with an evening of book club ... I made pumpkin muffins, and there was homemade bread and boudin balls and wine and pumpkin beer and a good discussion with nice people. Zeitoun is a good but very upsetting book, P.S.

Thanksgiving awaits!

Weekend update

My eyes are stinging intensely from the horrid aftermath of a questionable night of sleep and an alarm clock that cruelly went off this morning when the first number was a 4, but I will try to type through the burn.

It was a jam-packed weekend that I don't want to forget in the busy-ness of this week ahead ... before work on Friday, I headed out early to an estate sale where everything was English mahogany and cost about $500. Nope. At lunch on Friday, my co-worker and I went to a downtown estate sale, where we were sadly scoreless. On Friday night, it was sushi and potstickers and Where the Wild Things Are. I'm not sure how I felt about it ... I did not fall in love with it like I thought I would, but I definitely appreciated it and was moved by it. It was beautiful and scary and sad. We stopped at the nearby Urban Outfitters, where plenty of household items were on sale, but they all looked very cheap and crappy, which was obvious even to the likes of me, so we passed! I'd been interested in Xenia Taler's wall art on sale there, but I saw it in person in the store, and it just ... did not look good. The paper wasn't glued in very well to the wood frame, and it just made me sad because I love her work. I'm all for making nice art more affordable, but not when it looks so shoddy. Her work is so beautiful, and I'm just going to have to invest in a real tile from the artist herself. No thank you, Urban Outfitters.

Saturday dawned with class bright and early, which I was late for because I got carried away buying organic satsumas and grapefruit and stationery and onesies at the farmer's market. After class, I went on an insane wild goose chase through the outskirts of town, hither and yon, to three different thrift shops and warehouses only to find nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing. Then I went to three different paint stores to collect paint chips of colors I've seen on design blogs that I've liked. This was much harder than I thought it would be because for most of them I only had names, and most of the paint chips were sorted by number. And the clerks at the paint counters weren't much help. Maddening! (It did not occur to me until later to look the names up online to find the matching numbers beforehand. Duh!) But it felt good and productive to gather these colors as I take baby steps toward making an actual plan. Then it was fair time with my friend and her daughters, which was excellent. They are delightful children and I love them very much. Highlights included snowcones, the helicopter ride, throwing balls in a lion's mouth, and watching the older child take her hot dog out of the bun and wave it around like a conductor's baton. Then our team lost the game in a rather heartbreaking defeat, so my dad and I met up for greasy bar food and beers in woe. I ended up having shrimp & corn soup and he had a grilled shrimp salad with the dressing on the side, so it's not like we went full out greasy like the evening probably called for.

Sunday morning, I contemplated going for a long bike ride, but my shins were aching a lot from the prior day's run, so I decided not to push it. Instead, I threw open all the windows and cleaned the house, which is always a liberating feeling. I went to a sale at a local vintage shop, where I ended up buying a bright orange vase, a pair of pink and purple ramekins that I just thought were cute, and a strange lime green wall hanging that looks like it could be used as some sort of planter. I don't know. I just liked the color. It does vaguely resemble something from the set of The Golden Girls, though. Then I went to an antiques store nearby, where two very lovely men were very kind to me, but everything was Victorian and expensive and kind of ridiculous. I think I will just start a tradition of going to stores and being disappointed when I find nothing and then one day I will find something truly wonderful and it will be the best day ever. Anyway! Then I went to a crafts store to buy something cute, fake, and floral to put in my orange vase (I ended up getting something that vaguely resembles capiz shells on a stem), some frames, and some spray paint for some black frames in my hall I want to paint white. Of course I ended up buying bright green and robin's egg blue spray paint, also, even though I have no idea what to do with them. I just have a hankering to spray paint stuff, God help me!

Finally it was time to go the heck home! I roasted some red & green bell peppers and carrots and broccoli and onions in olive oil and salt and pepper and some juice squeezed from a fresh lemon from a neighbor's tree and stir-fried some tofu in olive oil and it was a very satisfying dinner ... then I took a long lavender bath and finished Princess Academy, which oddly turned out to be maybe my least favorite Shannon Hale book ever ... it just kind of reminded me too much of The Bachelorette. (The Goose Girl & Book of a Thousand Days are tied for tops ... oh, how I love them both.) Then I watched some thirtysomething (the one when Melissa and Ellyn meet the guy in the video store and both kind of like him even though Ellyn totally has a very nice and cute boyfriend who buys her ski boots) and started When You Reach Me, which I already know I am going to love truly, madly, and deeply.

I can't wrap up the weekend without talking (without spoiling anything) about the season finale of Mad Men. I don't even know what to say except I loved every single second of it. Some people have given up on this show, but I honestly do not know how. It is just delicious from ceiling to floor -- every hue, every necktie, every drunken, sad, hilarious, horrible, timeless moment. I will miss it.

Weekend update

I love fall weekends! I love October in general. I'm a little sad that it's over. It was a great month ... Hawaii, multiple Saturday night football games, the weather changing from sweltering to perfect, good people, good times, road trip to see Brandi and Amy, fun dinners and coffees with friends, and beginning to train for the half-marathon. But November is looking pretty good so far. The sun is streaming in through the windows, the dogs just gobbled chew bones that are supposed to last up to five days in under two minutes, and it's about time for some coffee around here.

Friday night was rainy and cold, but a good time was still had by all at a gigantic Halloween party where the kids and grown-ups were all in costume and we enjoyed pumpkin ale and baby pecan pies and fried chicken and catching up with old friends. The later part of the evening was spent piling into my brother and his fiancee's guest room to watch the season four premiere of Friday Night Lights. My brother got Direct TV for the sole purpose of hosting such gatherings, and we are all grateful. Clear eyes full hearts Texas forever WOO! It was heart-achingly beautiful and wonderful, as always, and if you're not watching this show by now I don't even know what to say to you. It was fun to watch it for the first time with my mom, who has decided that Tim Riggins has saved the life of every character and will outline ways in which he has done so. Oh, TIM RIGGINS. Oh, Coach & Mrs. Coach and all of you. I love you.

I had class bright and early on Saturday morning, where my classmates and I sat around for a while before finally deciding to call our professor at home. "Dr. T?" I asked. "Yes?" "This is Eliza calling from class." (Pause ... pause ...) "Oh my word!" She overslept, bless her heart! It was a good morning for oversleeping, that was for sure. What can you do? She's only human. We got started presenting our projects and she arrived soon enough. Sometimes it's weird to go to class with a bunch of adults. You feel really childlike sometimes just by virtue of sitting in a desk.

I sat out in the quad with some classmates post-class and we discussed our final project ... again, kind of a time warp to find myself sitting on one of those concrete benches in the sun, where 15 years ago I was probably sitting on the same bench talking to someone inappropriate and smoking a cigarette (gross) trying to pretend I was 2 cool 4 school. (I was not.)

I finished and loved Looking for Alaska and wrote about it at Kidliterate.

I have finally started to watch thirtysomething on DVD. I think it took me a while to actually process that it came out after wishing for it year after year after year. I honestly thought it would never happen. But here it is. So far, my favorite season one episodes remain "But Not For Me," the episode about the Saturday night where Hope and Michael have an ill-fated date night and Melissa and Gary do a little backsliding and have to face each other the next morning and Michael Feinstein sings in the background. I have always loved that episode and it still holds up for me -- and also "I'll Be Home for Christmas," featuring Michael (Jewish) and Hope's (Protestant) conflict over how to celebrate Christmas (very thoughtfully and sensitively and humorously done, I think) and an epic fight between Michael and Melissa and the moment they make up, also known as one of the sweetest reconciliations I have ever seen on film. (Apparently this episode has been written about by people way more scholarly than I am ... see pages 31-32!)

It is bizarre the way I can basically recite the dialogue on these favorite episodes that I guess I've watched a few too many times on videotape over the last 20+ years.

:::

Later ...

Today I went to the Unitarian church for the first time with a friend. I liked it. It was different and interesting. Parts of it really spoke to me and fed my soul, and parts of it felt very foreign and strange. I have a lot of thoughts about this but right now I can't really process them. (WEIRD: During the service, a song by Greg Holden ran through my head over and over. I was wondering if this service was feeding my soul ... his song, "Serendipity," which I love, has these lyrics: "I have seen all I need to roam free within these streets. Climbing up walls that are never too tall feeds my soul." Anyway ... like I said, I was thinking about souls being fed, so this song popped into my head. And I just put on iTunes on shuffle and this song popped up! Out of thousands! You can hear it here.) It's hard to capture in a nutshell, but in a nutshell, I love the family tradition aspects of the church I grew up in; however, when I learned recently that a friend's husband left the Episcopalian church to join the Catholic church because of the former's openeness towards gays, it felt like a punch in the stomach. Do I want to be part of the church that people join because it's more discriminatory? No, I don't think I do. But like I said, family tradition. Argh. Moving on for now.

After the service, we had coffee and a lovely visit. What is not to love about a day that is sunny and 65 degrees? What is better than that? Not much! I then had a rather fantastic run and spent part of the afternoon with my future sister-in-law. We sat on their balcony and pored over cottages the family might stay in for their wedding and ate cheese and crackers and veggies and guacamole and my brother made these insane peanut butter / rice milk / protein powder smoothies that basically tasted like peanut butter cookie dough OMG YUM.

Now I've got a cat on my lap and "All My Little Words" just popped up on the shuffle list, a song from my friend mo pie that I LOVE AND ADORE. Seriously? This song kills me.

I guess that's about it for now. Mad Men awaits, and I still haven't watched last week's, allegedly the most intense episode of all time. (Speaking of Mad Men, how funny is "Hells bells, Trudy!" on Community?)

To close, November's first sunset:

Cool weather and cool times

A few misc. thoughts to start:

I am continuing to regularly update my House Ideas post.

I never tire of Scouting NY. It is full of such cool photographs and stories.

I am in the market for a small coffee maker. Most of the time, one or two cups will do just fine. If you have any recommendations, I'd love to hear them.

I finished Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver, which I mostly loved, which I knew I would, except that now I feel guilty every time I eat a banana. Which I just did. I really want to be better about eating locally, but I don't want to give up bananas. I am working on this. It's a process.

Because I apparently cannot stop reading books about food, I know I am going to end up reading Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. I am bracing myself for this one, though. I am easily influenced and know it's going to make me go through a dilemma about whether or not to go vegetarian. But I kind of like putting myself through such dilemmas sometimes. As someone who unapologetically loved his first two books, I know I'll like the way it's written.

This review makes me really want to read Craig Ferguson's memoir.

And now for a weekend update. It was a nice weekend. I went to the farmer's market and got lettuce and a loaf of whole wheat bread and organic potatoes and organic satsumas.

Class let out early so we could attend the book festival, which was fun, and what's not cool about seeing Ernest Gaines in person? I bought Printz winner Looking for Alaska and an anthology called How Beautiful the Ordinary: Twelve Stories of Identity, chosen because I liked the title and because I am very charmed by David Levithan. So far, I've only read his chapter, which begins the book, and it made me cry.

Following the book festival was high tea at my favorite cafe, where we were served four courses of awesome. It was a delight.

Back at home, the afternoon was one of open windows with the chilly, fresh air blowing in, the baking of white chocolate macadamia oatmeal cookies (which I ended up dreadfully overcooking, oh well!), Brandi's album on the stereo, and a visit with a friend. I also took the dogs out for a long walk in the late afternoon. They were hellions, but it was great to be outside in the sun and actually get some exercise, of which I have done exactly none for weeks.

It got down into the low 40s on Saturday night, which was kind of bananas. I slept in until 7 on Sunday morning when Zuko could be contained no longer, so I got up, released the hounds, and then went back to bed until 9. It was the first cold morning since right around the time I got my new bed and comforter, so snuggling in it in the cold felt so decadent and luxurious and heavenly. It is a cloud. I love it.

Lamenting the rock hardness of the cookies of the previous day, I evaluated the ingredients I had left on hand and made a giant batch of simple sugar cookies, which I have to tell you, were melt-in-your-mouth good. Note: if you stick to the wee teaspoon-sized balls, which I did, do NOT cook longer than 7 or 8 minutes. You will be sorry. Also, I creamed my butter and sugar with an electric mixer, which I never knew I supposed to do (oops). But it worked. They were perfect and tiny and very buttery and divine. I will never make store-bought sugar cookies again. Never!

Once I was done with my baking extravaganza, I pumped up my bike tires and went out for a ride for the first time since the last triathlon of the summer, also known as the last week of August. Wow. It was a little cool outside, but it was sunny and felt kind of magical to actually ride it again and be back among the exercisers. I totally felt like one of them all spring and summer, but then I left the group for about six weeks or so. It felt good to be back. One uber-cyclist in a cycling suit on a super whizzy fast bike and I came to a bridge at the same time and I said, "Sorry!" as I bumbled clumsily in front of him and he chirped, "Don't apologize, I'm the maniac out here!" And I said, "I'm kind of slow!" and he cheerleaded, "At least you're out here riding!" And that was that. He smiled at me later as we passed each other again while I was in the midst of yelling "ASSHOLE!" at a pushy car. Oh, drivers of cars. A little patience as we cross an intersection. Is all we bikers ask.

I attended a party for my friend who's selling jewelry, where I overindulged in cocktail meatballs. I don't even really like meat. But they are so good. Then it was book club, with Persepolis and yummy homemade bread and chili and nice people.

Tonight in the works is a dinner of new potatoes from the farmer's market roasted in a hot oven with olive oil and minced garlic and salt and pepper alongside some whole wheat angel hair with tomatoes and broccoli florets and chicken and purple onions. And I might need to eat three or four satsumas for dessert. And Every Little Step is on its way.

In the mood for swoony romance what with the colder weather and all, the only thing to do yeterday was see Bright Star. The actors who played Fanny Brawne & John Keats were very pretty and good, the overall look of the film was gorgeous, and even if it was all made up for all I know, it was utterly heartbreaking. There may have been noisy, copious weeping. I kept thinking back to when I visited the Keats-Shelley house Rome in 1998. Here's what I wrote in my journal that day at the age of 23: "All I have to say is that the Keats-Shelley Memorial museum was 100% amazing. Locks of Keats's hair, original pages of 'Lamia' and 'Ode on a Nightingale,' his last letters to his sister before he left for Italy which talked about how he wanted to fully recover -- and the room where he died. So young. So sad. Moving. Awesome." For years, I had framed postcards I bought there of his gravestone and of this image, sketched by his friend as Keats lay dying. I'm not sure what I did with them. Anyway, my thoughts on the movie are all wrapped up with how I felt visiting that place all those years ago. Overall, it wasn't a perfect movie, but it was very lovely and very romantic and very sad, if that sort of thing does it for you. (It does it for me.)

Octoberfesting

My Lord, what a month!

I spent the entire first week in Hawaii, which I won't say much about other than I loved being there. Lots of baby-love and friend-love and eating potato chip encrusted fish sandwiches and coffee toffee nut gelato.

After arriving home, I spent a few days stumbling around as if drunk trying to readjust to the five-hour time difference. I think I might be very constitutionally weak when it comes to jet lag. Then it was time for the biggest football game of the year, which I attended with my mom and brother and where we had a great time despite (a) the rain and (b) losing.

Then it was time for a road trip ... my brother and I drove 400 miles to see Brandi Carlile (opener: Amy Ray). It rained and took six hours and we got a little lost walking through the dark and desolate sidewalks between our hotel and the venue, but all was good. The venue was just fantastic, I cannot lie, and of course the acts were great. Amy Ray definitely rocks out way, way more when on her own, and she and her plaid pants were really great. Brandi joined them for a song or two, which obviously excited the crowd. Stand and Deliver was unsurprisingly a highlight.

And Brandi -- well, if you've seen her, you know what I mean here -- what can I even say? Even though I saw her in May, and even though some of the stories and moments and songs were similar, it was like a whole new world of delicious awesomeness in this beautiful venue with my brother.

I'd prepped my brother with some of her songs on the way there, including her new album which just came out last week, so he was vaguely familiar with her. But when she and the twins and the drummer and the cello player came out to sing "Oh Dear" in harmony with some kind of old-timey-sounding microphone, I was pretty sure I could hear his jaw dropping behind me along with everyone else's in the room. We all just kind of froze in the beauty of it. (Here's a video of the actual performance. While I am psyched this video exists, it absolutely does not do justice to the sound in the space. The acoustics were phenomenal.) Incredible opener! And now I shall list the rest of the setlist in order!

Looking Out: Amy Ray joined the band for this song, as she does on the album. Totally awesome! My mind was blown by seeing them together, for real. The sound isn't great here, but you get the idea.

What Can I Say, Late Morning Lullabye, My Song: These older songs were audience faves, of course, and we were encouraged to sing along, and lo, we did.

Dying Day: Performed unplugged at the edge of the stage. Sensational in every way. Video from our very show.

I Will: Acoustic. Here's the video from our show! This is a new song that didn't really make much of an impression on me until hearing it live. I got a tiny bit teary, to my surprise. I basically thought about various estrangements in life. "... It hurts to be the one that you'd regret. I have to say that I am proud to know you, and I'll never be the same because we met. You might not miss this, but I will ..."

Hiding My Heart: Acoustic. She said they rarely play this one in concert but had started to ask for fan requests, and this was one. Video from our show; gorgeous, obvs. This is quite a depressing song, in case you were wondering.

Dreams: Possibly my favorite song on the new album. You can see the official video here.

Before It Breaks: Kind of heartbreaking. (Video from our show.)

Turpentine: Audience singalong. Fun.

The Story: I am not sure how I have never noticed that she actually switches guitars in the middle of this song. Noticing this made me happy. Obviously, it was awesome.

Let It Be: Very Pretty.

Jackson / Folsom Prison Blues: I thought this first encore would be it! But it wasn't!

Johnny Rottentale: With Amy Ray. Very fun. I like when singers share a single microphone. It warms my heart.

(Brandi mentioned how she had done Cannonball with both Indigo Girls the night before in Atlanta, which made me fantasize briefly that Emily was going to appear. She did not, but here's a video of that performance. It might be a good thing I did not see this live, as I'm not sure my heart would have been able to take it.)

And still, there was more!

Calling All Angels: With her sister Tiffany Carlile. Unspeakably perfect & beautiful. (That link is an excellent video of the two of them performing this song).

That Year: Just Brandi and her guitar and a stool. Heartfelt explanation & lovely, very sad song.

Pride and Joy: Closed it out. (Video from our show ... starts out kind of dark but sounds GREAT.) A powerhouse of a finale to be sure. The instruments got so explodey at the end I thought the top of my head and roof might blow off. Greatness!

Overall, it was a magnificent experience and one that produced such euphoria that it was totally worth driving 800 miles in two days.

Meanwhile, I'm in the middle of this, which probably deserves its own post one of these days. And I'm taking a class on Saturdays, and this weekend is a high tea and a party and a book club meeting and it's just all kind of pouring over, the fun. So ... October isn't even halfway over, and it's already been so chock full of excitement. I'm liking this crazy autumnal bliss, even though it rains every single day.

To close, I would like to share an e-mail I received today from my mother, just because it made me smile. She is making her way through season three of Friday Night Lights for the first time.

I am sobbing. I just watched the scene where [spoiler about Smash redacted]......

I looooooooooooooove this show........except for too much casual sex, it's just about perfect!

Love you!
Mom

And my dad's reply:

So Mom comes into the bedroom all teary eyed and says [spoiler about Smash redacted]. I look at her and say, "Who the F* is Smash?" Clearly, I don't know the plot line.

Dad

10 things

(1) I went to a yoga class at the unholy time of 5:45 a.m. After several days in a row of running, biking, or swimming, I needed a change. We warmed up with some breathing and eye exercises ... like look to the right, look to the left, look to the right, etc., and I thought, "This class is gonna be a breeze!" Wrong. So wrong. The teacher is a good friend of mine, almost like a sister, and I marveled at both her excellent teaching skills and her poses, many of which I could not even begin to complete. It's been a long time since I did yoga, sure, but I don't know that the day will ever come when I can actually do the simple poses of plank (have trouble straightening my back) and cobra (way too much lower back crunching) and upward dog (ditto) properly, and bow pose? I am so sure. Also, I fell over repeatedly in warrior three. I find that I hate any stretch or pose that arches the lower back in a crunching manner rather than rounding it in a lovely standing forward bend or child's pose kind of way. It just does not seem good for a lower back to be crunched in that way. Maybe I am missing something, but it always hurts and is monstrously unpleasant. I think my favorite pose of the whole class was bending over in cow face pose because I am a huge fan of anything that (a) rounds the back and (b) stretches and opens up the old hips, which I find notoriously hard to stretch effectively. (Other favorite hip poses? The pigeon, a.k.a. heaven, and the ridiculously but aptly named happy baby pose.) I hope to spend more time doing deep stretching and yoga in the coming weeks and months ... once I wrap up the next (and final, for a while, anyway) triathlon. I think my body really needs it.

(2) I watched 8 episodes of True Blood in two days. After watching the first four season one episodes a while back and never being able to rent the next discs because they are always checked out, I finally scored the last few discs and marathoned them. This show -- this show. It is so totally gross and ridiculous but so entertaining. I have to look away and fast forward sometimes through some of the really graphic stuff because I am a squeamish delicate flower, but overall, I enjoyed it so much and deem it perfect summer fare.

(3) I've been reading Shelf Discovery every night before bed and simultaneously loving every word and feeling deeply jealous that I didn't think to, with a little help from my friends, write this book myself! But no matter. I'm just glad it got written because it's hilarious and ultimately moving to read someone else's childhood impressions of Meg and Calvin and Charles Wallace and Claudia and Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler and Vicky and Adam and Harriet and Sally J. Freedman and all of the others. It's just an awesome walk down memory lane. (Here's how you can buy it from your friendly neighborhood independent bookstore.)

(4) Speaking of independent bookstores, check out this great interview by my old friend Melissa. I am very inspired by seeing her so totally in her element and doing what she was obviously meant to do.

(5) And speaking of memory lane, I've been enjoying a few really nice John Hughes tributes, including one by Molly Ringwald in the NYT and a SUCH a lovely story by a woman who was pen pals with Hughes when she was young.

(6) Recently I bought two new prints for my walls. Where I will hang these I do not know, and they still sit in their mailing tubes. But I'm just glad they're in my house because I like them. I would sort of like to rebuild my living space from the ground up. What is stopping me? Nothing!

(7) I made this zucchini bread with a ton of zucchini from the farmers' market that I needed to use up, and it was delicious, even though I forgot to add the vanilla. (Found via Tastespotting, my very favorite place to hunt for recipes and look at beautiful food.)

(8) I am kind of still loving summer in general. Lunches and dinners with friends, getting up early to run with Zuko or exercise, the farmers' market, visits to the dog park (where someone pointed out of Daisy, "She's got issues," which I frankly found a bit snotty and rude), Sunday brunch and gelato in New Orleans, and a night of excellent community theater ("I knew every word of every song growing up," my mom said as we listened to the soundtrack to The King and I on the way home).

(9) This picture makes me really happy, as does the Chuck Comic-Con panel, which is definitely worth watching if you're a fan of the show and have 34 minutes to spare. They are 34 minutes of pure delight.

(10) And finally, I leave you with this. I never knew how much I missed Tim Canterbury until now. O Timmy! My Timmy!

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

Weekend update

Putting my feet up on a cloudy Sunday afternoon feels pretty great. It's been a nice weekend.

On Friday evening, I relaxed to the max with a cook-whatever's-left-in-the-kitchen-dinner of roasted sweet potatoes, green bell peppers, chick peas, and celery over whole wheat orzo. Surprisingly tasty. I watched Parenthood, which has held up remarkably well over the past 20 years. Seriously: every moment is perfect, particularly every one involving Dianne Wiest.

I arose at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning to go on a 15.5-mile bike ride with a friend. It was nice. I still struggle a bit getting foot #2 into the toe clip but I feel practice will help me improve in this regard, much as I can now grab and replace the water bottle with ease. It was nice to ride with a friend instead of solo and great to be done, showered, and ready to go to the farmers' market by 8:15. I bought eggs, a basket of assorted sweet peppers, and some baby tomatoes and ran into my parents, who bought me some small spicy onions and a dozen big fat shrimp. I keep meaning to become a vegetarian, but my mom made tuna salad this week, and then they bought me shrimp, so I keep failing. It was fun to wander through the market with my mom, who basically bought all of the peaches and all of the corn.

Saturday was a busy day. I don't remember the exact order, but I went on a very satisfying greeting card shopping spree, bought a bike rack for my car I have no idea how to install and a tire patching kit I have no idea how to use, bathed not one but two dogs in the tub and half-assedly put the bathroom back together after the great flood caused by Zuko, enjoyed homemade cool-brewed iced coffee placed in the freezer for a while to get slushy, watered all my plants, and washed a million gross and furry dog towels.

That night, I decided to thank my parents for petsitting during my recent trip to D.C. by bringing a movie over and cooking them dinner with the farm-fresh fixins. I cooked the shrimp in a skillet with olive oil and a little Tony's and sauteed garlic, the tiny purple onions that basically made my eyeballs explode with tears, red and yellow bell peppers, and tomatoes in olive oil until they were caramelized and mushy, mixed the shrimp in, and served it over whole wheat angel hair. My mom cooked a half-dozen corn cobs and we ate every single one of them. It was such a fresh and sensational dinner and we all moaned a lot and celebrated our local farmers. I tried to explain The Omnivore's Dilemma to them and how it has revolutionized my thoughts on food but I'm not sure I did a very good job. We rubbed our bellies and watched Stranger than Fiction. I knew they'd be prime for another Emma Thompson/Dustin Hoffman movie after the way they loved Last Chance Harvey, and they really enjoyed it. After not seeing it since it was in the theater, I'd forgotten how good it is. It's so, so good! Love. Also good: The Book Thief, which I love on a level that prevents me from being very articulate about it.

I took to my bed with The Castle of Llyr and slept well, going grocery shopping this morning and attempting to put a dent in the piles of pet hair wafting through my house. I had a nice lunch with a friend and headed to the gym for a treadmill run, which was surprisingly tolerable, thanks largely to my intense enjoyment of the adorable, inspiring, and triumphant "Expressing Yourself" from Billy Elliot and Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now."

Then I put Patty Griffin on loud and made myself my first ever pie. It's a blueberry pie with a pecan crumble topping. I feel really good about this and hope I don't burn it. I can smell it baking now, and I am kicking back with season four of Weeds, which I've gotta tell you, is not exactly uplifting. The problem with this show is that not a single character is likable. They are all fundamentally vile. If Mary Louise Parker were not so pretty I doubt I'd keep watching it, but there you go.

This is really the first part of my summer, this week ahead, where I'm not on vacation or super-duper busy at work. It's in stark contrast to last summer at this time, when all I did was read, analyze, and write about graphic novel after graphic novel for class in every waking moment. I have to say that it's pretty pleasant. I'm going to have to hit the training hard in the next few weeks pre-triathlon, see the new Harry Potter movie, and mentally prepare myself to swim 500 yards in a lake filled with brown water and slime.

And ... the pie is ready!

Life is good.

Swimming, eating, remembering

My first sweet treat since Lent started was a long time coming. I waited until the Thursday after Easter, when I could return to my favorite cafe and enjoy one of their magnificent pastries. I chose a cappuccino and an almond croissant. It was truly heaven in my mouth, and I ate every little bit carefully and slowly and deliberately. I told myself, "Self, see? See what a treat this is? It's so wonderful, and it was worth the wait."

Then the weekend rolled around, along with a limo ride with some friends for a birthday to one of the best restaurants in existence. And lots of wine. And this:

That is a damn fine plate of food in a sauce made with a damn lot of butter. But I didn't care. It was awesome. And I ate it with grilled shrimp over a fried grits cake and crab cakes and shrimp in a bread bowl and more wine. And then some starbursts and tootsie rolls from a candy bowl. And a good time was had by all, and I'd run three miles that morning, and I still felt perfectly in balance on Sunday, if a bit hungover.

Then this happened:

Oops! A friend and I went to see an art exhibit downtown and wandered over to Earth Day, where it seemed the only right things to eat were strawberry snowballs and a giant plate of greasy Chinese food that cost $13. We split this, yes. But still. Not exactly the healthiest lunch on the block. But who cares? It was a festival, and it was fun to park myself on a curb with a stack of napkins and an old friend I hadn't seen forever and eat that hot mess together. And I went on a long walk when I got home. Then I went to my parents' house after going to mass with them and ate tons of my mom's perfect tuna salad and about two pounds of shelled pecans. I'm not sure what possessed me to eat all I did this weekend. Maybe I was just hungry.

(Mass was good if a little strange. Lots of youth group type kids apparently go to this mass, which is swell, and I like the modern music a lot, and the musicians are fantastic, but I need at least one 80s-style Glory and Praise hymn per mass. That's something I had an epiphany about at this service. I like the young, hip tunes, but throw in a "Here I Am, Lord" or "Sing a New Song" every now and then, please, and it would be perfect. My little brother recently announced that "We Are Called" should become the standard recessional hymn for every mass because nothing can top it. I think he might have a point. OMG: the composer of "We Are Called" has a Myspace page. And none of those versions sounds very good, I'm afraid. Anyway, I didn't realize he also wrote "You Are Mine," which is another favorite of mine. Random Catholic music tangent: one of my co-workers and I got a little punchy from stress last week and started singing the first lines of Catholic songs we grew up with. It is very strange to think we grew up on opposite ends of the state but grew up singing the same songs in church. "Sing to the Mountains," "Lord of the Dance," "City of God," the list goes on and on.)

My very tenacious friend who might as well go ahead and become my life coach persuaded me to do the swimming leg of a triathlon for a mutual friend who only wants to do the biking and running leg. Fine. I think this event is months off, so why not? My friend said, "Let's go swimming tomorrow night!" Which was tonight. So I said, "Sure! Why not!" I bought some goggles and a swim cap at lunch and we went to a place where I thought we had permission to swim, but we totally didn't. My friend acted like we did, though, so in we went. I hadn't swum actual laps in an actual pool since 2003. We swam 8 lengths in the 50-meter pool and called it a day. I got tuckered out doing freestyle about half-way through (tuckered out = felt I might have heart attack) so I started alternating between that and breast stroke. I seriously could do the latter, I think, for hours at a time. It is so soothing. I threw in one length of backstroke just for good measure. Turns out the triathlon is actually, like, next weekend. Awesome! We'll see how that goes. I'm glad this is an event that can be split into legs, because I think it will be fun to participate, but I don't think I could ride a bike on a road if I couldn't even ride a bike in my friend's class in Hawaii for more than approximately thirty seconds.

I just have to say that I do love swimming. It is strange to think that my brother and sister and I swam every summer, all summer long, every single morning for practice plus meets on Saturdays. I don't remember much about those summers except that I think we'd end up just staying at the pool all day. It's not like this was a super-elite swim team or anything. There were all skill levels, and it was just fun. We all wore red swimsuits. The meets were awesome because we would eat jello straight from the box "for energy." I think my sister and I both did it from ages, like, four or five to twelve, every summer. That boggles my mind! (The little kids and the big kids had separate practices, obviously.) I was never the fastest swimmer, but I did always come out second in breaststroke. Even though it was my best stroke, there was one girl I could never, ever beat.

One time the coach at practice made me swim a lap of butterfly all by myself, making the other kids stand by the pool and watch, because she said my stroke was perfect. I remember that she basically barked at the older kids, "Look at this kid! If she can do it like this, why can't you?!" I was one hundred percent mortified but also one hundred percent proud. I was never a child who was known for athletic prowess, so to have something like that happen to me was astonishing and I have never forgotten it. I remember swimming the butterfly across the pool at that moment and thinking that all of those high school boys were watching me and was it possible the coach was making fun of me or punishing me in some way? But I don't think she would do that. Other major swim team memories: practicing swimming the entire length of the pool without taking a breath, throwing the coach in the pool after the meets, and always, always going to Godfather's pizza after the meets with wet hair.

Anyway, so swimming laps brings back mostly happy childhood memories. I know that cardio with impact is important for joint and bone strength, but I think swimming has to be awesome for you, too. I will try to incorporate it more into my life even if breaking the swim place law made me kind of nervous today. I am just not the criminal type.

Tonight after swimming I made an awesome dinner. Onion, bell pepper, garlic, yellow squash, and celery with fresh rosemary and cayenne pepper mixed with chicken breast and slivered almonds cooked in olive oil and quinoa with a little grated mozzarella cheese on top. It made me feel more in control of myself and was delicious.

I would literally give my right arm for a disc of In Treatment to watch right now. Only three weeks left! I love it so much. Must wait for Netflix, though. This is a busy week of dinner and lunch with friends and a date with Ira Glass. Life is good.

Weekend with old friends

MONDAY! I just spent an enjoyable hour visiting with my BFF, who's been in town for the weekend. We talked while I browned my drained-for-days tofu in olive oil and invented a yummy stir fry with broccoli, carrots, onion, celery, and garlic. Made up a random sauce with soy sauce, sesame oil, a drop of molasses, and black pepper. Then I threw in some walnuts just for good measure. And some frozen peas, why not? I'm eating it over quinoa, and it's very tasty! I love made-up food.

It was a busy and crazy fun weekend. I took the day off on Friday at a very inappropriate time of year to spend my BFF's birthday with her. We went shoe shopping, ate Lebanese food for lunch, and went to my favorite cafe. That night, we had dinner with our other BFF -- macadamia nut tacos over fried rice, shrimp tempura rolls, BBQ chicken pizza, plum wine, you name it!

Afterwards, we headed to a crawfish boil / karaoke party for our friend's rehearsal dinner, which was festive. At one point in the evening, my old friend and I headed to the most vile bar in creation because I thought my brother was playing there, but I was sadly mistaken. A frat boy took a giant handful of my bottom as I walked by. It was unpleasant but unsurprising. I should have known better than to set foot in that heinous place, where you get stuck in the crowd and end up fighting your way through the sweaty masses with a feeling not dissimilar to what it must feel like to stand in sewer. Not good! Overall, the day and night were great, though. It's just really good to be around people you've known forever, isn't it?

Saturday dawned, and I'm drawing a blank. I brought my friend who stayed with me to a brunch. Eventually it was time to get dressed for our friend's wedding reception, held outside on a terrace overlooking the river, and it was GORGEOUS. Beautiful bride, beautiful friends, beautiful night.

Yesterday, the BFFs and the cousin and I went to a coffee shop and had a non-shower for the friend pregnant with twin boys. We drank coffee and ate cake and gave her some gifts. It was nice to sit out in the sunshine together.

This is not very exciting, but my heart was very full this weekend.

I didn't eat cake because I still haven't cheated on my no-sweets-for-Lent resolution, which is shocking beyond belief. I finally sat down to watch the Battlestar Galactica series finale yesterday afternoon after basically resorting to a media blackout for two days. (No spoilers to follow.) All I'll say is that I'm so glad this show has been in my life for the past few years. In July of 2006, when I first started watching the show, I wrote, "Last night I watched the first 45 minutes or so of the Battlestar Galactica miniseries. When you can realize that greatness is unfolding not even an hour into a new show, it's pretty exciting. The cast seems solid, the premise is intriguing, and it's got heartache and comedy and sex and war and outer space and that's pretty much a perfect show right there ... it's going to be fun to immerse myself in this universe, I can already tell." Who knew the ride I was in for? I still marvel that my brother picked up the miniseries a few short months ago and flew through the entire series, Razor, and the webisodes in time to catch up before watching the finale this weekend. Talk about immersion! We agreed that we don't even really care what happened in the finale. We just feel like the show has been a gift.

I guess I have nothing else to say for now. Sometimes I wish all we ever had to do in life is sit around with those who speak the same shorthand language that we do and eat, drink, and be merry.

Monday

Rainy days & Mondays, etc. The sun is allegedly coming out tomorrow, and it will not be soon enough for me! We had a very gray and rainy weekend. My first annual St. Patty's Day Parade party was wet and small but spirited. (As spirited as it could be in the rain.) It was great to see everyone who showed up (several of whom had to trek on foot quite a ways in the rain to get here) and particularly to meet my old friend's new baby for the first time.

After everyone went home, I basically prostrated myself on the couch and watched Rachel Getting Married. Though there were things I didn't love about it, I can't stop thinking about it. It's staying in my system for some reason. The main thing I didn't like, and this isn't really a spoiler since the title tells you someone's getting married, is how eclectic and sensational and diverse Rachel's friends were during the whole wedding celebration weekend. I was like, who in the world really knows a group of people this creative, this interesting, this every color of the rainbow, this musically talented, this artistic? It felt really artificial to me somehow. Then it occurred to me that lots of people are probably part of groups like that and the fact that I'm not (though I'd like to be) doesn't mean they don't exist. Other than that, I thought it was a pretty astonishing and wonderful film. Anne Hathaway definitely deserved all of the accolades she got, and Rosemarie DeWitt as Rachel and Debra Winger as the mom were also amazing. I am very glad I saw it. It wasn't a feel good film per se, and the subject matter was dark and harrowing and heartbreaking at times, but it still totally made me feel good. It was real.

My mom and I spent most of yesterday shopping. I bought a new dress that I love. We had a really fun time together.

Switching gears, if you've left a comment on the site lately that I haven't published, please do not take it personally ... I would reply privately, but I'm not sure how to contact those of you who've left these comments. Sometimes people leave perfectly lovely comments that contain content I don't really want aired out publicly, that's all. I appreciate your comments and your interest and your reading! That is for sure.

Just when I thought the recipe I described here couldn't get any better, I decided to make it again today and added frozen peas and ... fresh pineapple chunks! Wow. The pineapple chunks (added just towards the end, they don't really need to cook) sent this dish to a new level of deliciousness. I am completely in love with it.

This is going to be a week of trying to move things along at work as things get busier and busier, attempting to exercise, and looking really really really forward to the coming weekend of fun, frolicking, and festivity with my oldest and dearest friends. I can't really think of anything else to say except I can't wait to watch tonight's Battlestar Galactica: The Last Frakkin' Special.

On that note, I think it's time to revisit Battlestar Galactica: The Phemonemon, in which everyone from the dude from Anthrax to Brad Paisley to Jesse L. Martin to Joss Whedon to Seth Green to S. Epatha Merkerson talks about loving the show. In three parts. Obviously full of spoilers if you've never watched the show. Which you should.

34

The night before my birthday, I went out for Thai with my parents and brother. We had a nice visit over shrimp toast, nam sod, and various shrimp/chicken/vegetable entrees.

On my birthday morning, I was inexplicably wide awake at 4 a.m. I decided to roll over, flip on the bedside lamp, and open Harry: A History by Melissa Anelli, which (Melissa was right) is pretty fantastic. I spent a couple of hours with it before falling back asleep, only to be awakened at 8 by Zuko's staccato alarm bark. Oh well. I ate breakfast and headed out on a run. It was gray and very breezy out, the wind whipping the leaves (and me) all over the road. I got diverted by a train at one point, but overall, it was a fairly satisfying run.

After showering and all that jazz, I stopped for an iced coffee and headed to the farmer's market, where I bought some birthday gifts for friends. It started getting colder and colder outside, which was weird considering how warm it's been lately. I had a nice lunch with B. and headed to my massage appointment. It was my first time with a male massage therapist since Arturo in Costa Rica. I was a little nervous but got over it quickly. As he dug into upper back with great force, he noted that I can take more pressure than most. Then as he dug into my neck mightily, he said that some people have a tight spot here and there in their necks but that mine was tight all over. "Your neck ... is a rock," he said. "Yeah," I sighed. He worked on it for most of the hour, moving onto my hips at my request because they are always super tight, I think from running and squatting during the f-ing Jillian Michaels' DVD, and hard to stretch. He did all sorts of stretches, pushing my knee onto my chest and saying, "Wow, you are flexible. I mean -- wow. You are FLEXIBLE." I told him that was the only thing I scored well on during my gym fitness test a few years ago. Then he held my hip as he stretched it the opposite way across my body and sort of lay on it. This is hard to explain and sounds sort of obscene, but it was all very comfortable and professional until I screamed when he massaged the IT Band area of my hip with a little too much vim and vigor. Then he worked my upper back underneath my shoulder blades and so forth and it was basically an hour of complete heaven. It felt like a great gift to give myself on my birthday.

After my massage, I lay like goo on the couch and popped in my new Dr. Horrible DVD, a gift from my little brother. It was awesome, of course, as was the musical commentary, which just knocked my socks off. This whole enterprise is so delightful on so many levels to me. I bought myself the soundtrack and made a copy for him so we could continue to share the Dr. Horrible love. It was fun to check the mailbox and get some really nice cards. Overall, it was a lovely morning and afternoon.

The day shifted into evening, and I headed out for a girls' dinner. Stupid me did not think to make reservations, so our group of six faced a two-hour wait. Oops! So we sat outside on the patio, which was challenging due to the fact that a sudden Arctic blast was blowing through. Luckily there were heaters, and it gave me an excuse to wear my new school bus-colored coat all night long. We shared potstickers and pizza and fried rice and pad Thai and drank wine and gossiped and laughed and it felt really good to be surrounded by women I've known so long ... one I've known since kindergarten. They all brought me very wonderful and thoughtful gifts, which I didn't expect, and picked up my tab. It was all very special! I can't really describe it without lapsing into sentimentality so I'll stop there. One girlfriend and I headed out to watch my brother play for a little while but didn't last very long as apparently 34 means you have to be in bed by 11:00.

It got down into the thirties last night after a long string of days in the seventies, so that was a little bizarre. I woke up this morning and went to the grocery store, story of my life. Then I baked a ton of St. Patrick's Day cookies to freeze for my parade party. I've never frozen cookies before and hope they come out okay. I have to say that the green shamrock-shaped cookies are pretty cute even though some of them look more like amoebas than shamrocks. Then I decided to go out to World Market and look for some aqua curtains for my bedroom. I bought these and like them a lot. I also bought a new rug for the foot of my bed. My room, I have to say, is looking very different, and I am happy about it. I decided to go all white for my new bed (more on the new bed soon!), and I think it's all coming together.

Today I made this in my crock pot. I drained that m-fing tofu for like 36 hours and it still felt a bit moist. But I had better luck with the cornstarch and browning the tofu than last time; I think tofu just feels damp no matter how long you drain it! I used olive oil instead of butter and took my time getting it nice and brown, and it turned out perfectly delicious. I cooked it longer than the 3 hours instructed because I checked it at 3 hours and the carrots were still too hard for my liking. I also added a little more water than the recipe called for and when it tells you to add a little water and shake up the remnants of the sauce in the jar, I added 1/4 a teaspoon of cayenne pepper and some salt and shook that up with the liquid. I also added two cloves of chopped garlic and a pretty hefty chunk of chopped fresh ginger. Fascinating, I know! Anyway, I ate it over basmati rice, and it might be my favorite thing I've made in the crockpot thus far. Success!

Overall, it's been a very nice birthday weekend. Today is the beginning of a new month and a new year at a new age. I am determined to live well and work hard and, as Maria instructed Liesl, look for my life.

Parade weekend

It was a busy weekend. Sometimes it's good to be busy. My cousin arrived Friday evening; we had hummus and beers, went to see my brother play an excellent set, and then had Italian sandwiches. We turned in early in order to prepare ourselves for the next day.

The next day was parade day, and it was a long and fun one. We ate egg sandwiches at my neighborhood deli for breakfast and headed to our first destination, a party at my classmates' house on the route. There were mimosas and bagels and the cookies I brought, sugar cookies colored pink, the parade's signature color, with pink sprinkles that accidentally made them look a lot like boobs. It was all in good fun! We visited and hung out in the grass and caught beads and it was mostly sunny and very pleasurable. My cousin LOVED the neighborhood and had many intelligent things to say about urban design.

After the parade, we headed to the next party of the day, where there were margaritas and red beans and rice and homemade French bread and a front porch and more good company. Then we went to our third and final party, another classmate's birthday party, where there was another spread of great food and fun. By this point, I think my cousin and I were a bit delirious, so we headed home in the rain and basically turned in early.

This morning we were up with the birds and went out for cafe au lait and beignets. Then he returned home, and I put my fixins in the crockpot and didn't leave the house for the rest of the day. I worked on homework for a billion hours in a row and am proud of myself for getting a lot done. The food smells amazing, and I'm ready to relax with the Oscars. I'm watching Mickey Rourke on Barbara Walters right now, and can I just say, he would still be a pretty handsome guy despite his bludgeoned face if he did not have such RIDICULOUS hair, such silly glasses, and such a hideous striped gray suit, purple sash, and blue and orange striped shirt with an enormous collar. What is he thinking, and can't someone close to him stage some sort of intervention? This is his moment! And it is a shame that someone doesn't step in and whip his look into better shape for his step back into the sun. It genuinely saddens me.

It was fun having my cousin as a houseguest this weekend -- there is something really special to me about talking about family with someone who really gets it and likes to talk about family, too, and about where and whom we came from -- and I look forward to the next parade! I plan to get over myself and throw a party for it because it runs close to my house and life is short. I think I will cook something Irish-themed in my, what else, crockpot. People always get kegs for parade parties, but I feel like I might be a little too old for a keg? Maybe I can think of some other fun drink to serve. Anyway, I can't think about this anymore right now because I need to see what my movie star girlfriend Kate Winslet is wearing.