elizalou.com

Spring

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Sat, 01 May 2010 00:01:00 +0000

So, it has been a while. It has been a very busy spring so far. Really good but really busy.

Since my last post, the day I turned 35 and ran the half-marathon, I have worked a lot and played a lot. I traveled to meet my new nephew, and my heart exploded alongside the cherry blossoms.

I ran in another race in the big city and a few 5Ks here and a race through the woods and did a little triathlon on a relay team with my two best friends, which was beyond special and fun.

I bought my first-ever very expensive pair of sunglasses to step into spring and summer in style, and I love them.

I have seen Brandi Carlile and the Indigo Girls and David Sedaris, all wonderful, of course.

I have done four weeks of pre-dawn boot camp, and everything hurts, but I know it is good for me. I started seeing a chiropractor upon the urging of my wonderful massage therapist, and I think I am becoming a believer.

I signed up for genealogy website after becoming wholly moved and fascinated by the show Who Do You Think You Are? and also wanting to make a big fat family tree for my new nephew. It felt important. Maybe reading about ancestors from France and Ireland and Germany and Spain and England and Scotland is not all that interesting to some people, but it so interesting to me that I can barely stand it. My father's father's father, going back father before father before father, for hundreds of years ... he came to this state before America was America. There were people here, on this gulf, on this coast, and he was one of them. He arrived around 1720 and was from Germany, Roman Catholic, and a baker. One of my great-great-grandfathers was a Jew from Liverpool who came over in the 1830s and fought in the Civil War for a side we now see as the wrong side but he was just a private, a kid, a prisoner of war. Someone else from the site posted a photograph of his grave, and I could not help but be moved. I wish I knew more about his Jewishness and what happened to it after he married the French girl from Assumption Parish. Seeing my relatives' names and occupations listed on census records from the 1800s ... my great-grandfathers' WWI draft cards ... seeing the names of ships that the people I come from came here on ... it is like magic to me. My father's mother's great-grandfather, according to the 1870 census, came to New Orleans from Ireland. In New Orleans, his occupation was drayman. I had to look it up. I learned a new word. It means someone who drove a low, flat wagon. I love knowing this.

My baby brother moved away to pursue a big adventure in music and life, and I miss him terribly but am so very proud of him.

I still have not unpacked most of my possessions post-paint job, but I have gone on a vintage planter splurge and filled them with ivy to fill my house with a little bit of color and light. Some of the keys on my keyboard are not working ... the zero and the left bracket and the semicolon and the apostrophe and the question mark. So typing is kind of weird. (I am copying and pasting those keys when I need them ... ridiculous.)

Tomorrow the somewhat old-fashioned way I update this blog will cease to be an option via Blogger, so when I update again, it might look different and things might be a little hinky. Not sure when I will figure out how to do it, but I hope to sometime soon.

It is almost May and I have yet to be bowled over by a new favorite book, movie, or album this year in that way that fills me with uncontrollable excitement and joy. I really want this to change, and soon. Please feel free to make suggestions in the comments. After tonight, though, the comments might stop working. So if you are going to do it, do it fast! I would insert a smiley face here but I cannot because the smiling face part of the smiley is not working. Alas.

I am in the middle of Will Grayson, Will Grayson right now and am enjoying it. I got HBO for the first time in my life so I could watch Treme.

Right now oil is filling the gulf, and it is tragic and terrifying and inconceivable. I think about all of these various ancestors of mine who came over at various times, mostly from France, but from various other countries, too. And they did not come to this continent to live anywhere else. They all seemed to be aiming for here. This coast, this land, this state that was not a state yet for many of them. And now my family is still here, and what is going to happen to our state that we love? This is what is in my heart tonight.

I bought polka-dotted rain boots to wear to Jazz Fest because severe thunderstorms are in the forecast, but by God, we are still going. We, personally, cannot wave a wand and fix what is breaking and spilling and killing. But if nothing else, we can still do what we have always done, gather even when our hearts are heavy to listen to our music with our people and dance in the mud and the rain.

Race Day / Birthday / Great Day

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 01:05:00 +0000

35 is going to go down in history as one of the best birthdays ever. How can it not?

The weekend kicked off with all-too-brief drinks at the Sazerac Bar with AB & Vince, Rachel getting married, and Sara, all of whom are stunningly beautiful and delightful people.

A relaxing pasta dinner with hometown friends followed. Before bed, the movie version of the high school musical my race roommate (one of my oldest friends) and I were in together was on TV, which seemed like a good omen.

I was wide awake by 3:50 in the morning even though I didn't have to be up until 5. When we were dressed and ready to go, I discovered a big bouquet of balloons and a card from my friends tied to the outside of our hotel room, which was a great way to start my birthday and race day.

We walked about a mile to the race start en masse with other runners pouring into the streets from hotel after hotel as the sun started to lighten the sky, and my friend blasted music through her iPod speakers to help wake up the crowd and get us pumped up on the way... everything from Dolly Parton to LL Cool J to Quiet Riot. I didn't particularly enjoy standing in my corral for 40 minutes before our group finally got to start the starting line, but I understand that such is the way with staggered starts. Obviously, I have already blocked out the pre-race porta potty experience and will thus say nothing about it.

Once I reached the starting line, I tried hard to heed the advice of the most expert runner I know, my friend's husband, who said to start slow and then slow down, basically, to a pace you think you could keep up all day until a few miles in when you start to build speed. This was very difficult because I was excited! And cold. And I just wanted to run, run, run. The cold didn't last very long into the first mile, which was the slowest of the race for me, and then I basically picked up a little bit of speed with each one, always wanting to run a little faster but being afraid doing so would make me run out of steam before the end. Ultimately, with an 11-minute pace, I shaved more than 2 minutes off my average pace from three years ago and a minute off my average pace from my long training runs this time around, so I'm viewing it as progress and a good accomplishment. Looking back, I feel like I could have started off faster and pushed myself harder, but I can't go back and next time I'll know that I have a little more to give. Honestly, I am not even focusing too much on time. Other than the GOOD TIME I HAD, I mean! Seriously. It was ridiculously good, all of it.

The route itself was pretty fantastic, very different from the same race three years ago. Some of the streets weren't in the best condition pavement-wise, but that was no surprise. Honestly, it felt like a run through the city's history and my own memories of it. I loved seeing the residents on their porches and balconies in their pajamas, sipping coffee and waving to us. We ran a couple miles up Prytania, a pretty street with pretty houses. We ran about three miles on St. Charles Avenue, where many runners, including myself, decided to head straight toward the path of dirt between the street car rails and run straight down the street car line the entire stretch, something which made me think very joyfully about my sister. Images: seeing a guy I went to elementary school with on the sidewalk with his wife and baby in stroller. Waving to the bands playing their hearts out at every mile marker. Running past the Columns Hotel, site of many years at Mardi Gras with friends. Running past the WWII museum. Running past Jackson Square and the French Market. Running past bars I sat in during my college years sometimes in the middle of the night. Blowing a kiss to my friend Brian on Decatur, so excited to see a friendly familiar face. Running up Esplanade, passing Lil Dizzy's and Cafe Degas and Lola's. The way the sun came down through the giant oak tree branches making shadows on the street. Sure, I was very tired by mile 10. But I never became completely miserable by any means. I mean, the entire run was like one big giant visual and sonic and emotional postcard; every heartbeat was a burst of love for the city. It was so sunny and bright and lovely, and there were so many people from all over the country/world who were there to see it. And when Paul Simon came on my iPod and sang, "The Mississippi Delta was shining like a national guitar," it's possible that there were tears.

Crossing the finish line was very fun.

When it was all over, I lay down in the City Park grass in the sunshine and stretched for a good long time and took in the vibe of exhaustion and elation surrounding me every where I looked. Eventually I made my way to the shuttle bus, met up with friends, and headed to a deliciously fun courtyard brunch, where we ate and ate and ate and the jazz trio led the whole courtyard of people in singing happy birthday to me and I spilled grits and creamed spinach all over my iPhone. Thank you, Otterbox, for saving the day.

It was wonderfully relaxing and tasty to enjoy the sun, the atmosphere, and the shrimp creole omelet and mimosa and coffee with friends old and new and basically I want to eat brunch in that courtyard every day for the rest of my life. Soon enough it was time to find another group of friends -- Erin and Linda (both of whom I hadn't seen since 2003 but feel like I see all the time) and the ever-charming Chaos -- which I did at the same oyster house where I watched the Super Bowl. I decided I should probably just go ahead and keep eating, so I got some fried crab fingers and a blue moon.

Clearly there was nothing to do after this but walk down the sidewalks of the Quarter and through Jackson Square, past the street musicians and the artists and the tarot card readers and acrobatic dancers and silver-painted mimes, for some beignets and cafe au lait, so that's what we did, limping and laughing all the way.

It was the perfect day.

Birthday eve

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 17:10:00 +0000

Tomorrow is Sunday, and I will turn 35. I will run in a race, 13.1 miles. I haven't trained as well for this race as I should have, but I still think I will finish and have fun. At least that is what I hope. I am really mostly excited to be with friends ... some hometown friends and some friends from far away.

Today it is Saturday, and I am still 34. It is gray and cold outside, and the wet wind is blowing through my house's cracked windows. It brings a chill, but the fresh air is welcome. This week, my house has been painted in every room from ceiling to floor. It is still not finished, and the painters will return on Monday. To say I have coped with the disruption and mess of this experience poorly would be an understatement. I am trying very hard to focus on the positive -- new walls, new trim, new colors, new light, all breathing new life into my home.

I ran 6.2 miles in a race last weekend, and I enjoyed myself a lot. I ran that distance faster than I ever have (not fast for many, but for me), and I felt empowered and alive. I spent many hours visiting one of my oldest friends and her three precious daughters, one of whom is brand new. I had two visits this week at my favorite coffee shop on planet earth. The shop owners know I've given up sweets for Lent so put a candle in a slice of pineapple that accompanied my cheese and egg pastry and sang happy birthday to me. That was pretty lovely of them. Soon I will see Brandi Carlile & the Indigo Girls in concert again, and that is always a wonderful thing.

I've slept both at my neighbor's house and my parents' house this week. I feel a bit displaced and out of sorts but know it's all temporary and that I'm lucky to have these places to run away to. My pets' minds have been blown by this mayhem and they've spent hours and days in various confined spaces, but I am hoping the chaos and paint fumes will purge themselves from their memories and lungs (and mine) soon enough.

My nose is a bit sniffly from the cold wet air, and I'm bundled up in fleece pants and a hooded sweatshirt bearing the emblem of my elementary school, one that my little brother wore there. (We wore these sweatshirts many sizes too large for us as children, apparently.) I'm listening to a best of Avett Brothers mix that I made once. Right now this song is playing, and its words feel like the perfect ones to embrace today:

I don't want to get beat beat down by the big big world
and quit before I even start
Lord, I just want my life to be true
and I just want my heart to be true
and I just want my words to be true
I want my soul to feel brand new.

Fat Tuesday

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 00:05:00 +0000

Another year, another Fat Tuesday. This one was perhaps not as exciting as many in past years, but it was productive and dare I say nice. I woke up very early and watched a season three episode of Arrested Development while still snuggled under the covers on a 28-degree morning, ate breakfast, and got to work in my house, SOME MORE. This pre-painting stashing is kind of for the birds, but I have made lots of progress. Some riveting photos of this excitement: Marley planting herself on top of some painted posterboard, head-exploding test shades of gray, and boxes of books given away.

My former roommate came by to get a few of his remaining heavier items so they won't get mauled by the painters. Then my dad came over with a half cafe au lait / half hot chocolate and a biscuit and helped me unscrew various things from my walls, which was very helpful. Then I painted four more gray paint samples on poster board and hung them on various walls and squinted at them and talked about them with my friend in Hawaii, who said to pick the one with the best name, and AB Chao, color smart lady. Eventually I called my mom for help and she immediately ruled out one as "BEIGE!" and picked the one she thought looked perfect in every room, otherwise known as a color championed by the aforementioned color smart lady. Thanks, Mom! Thanks, AB! It only took six tries to get gray right, no big deal. Then I went on a chilly but sunny and excellent three-mile run, feeling like a semi-good runner once again after dragging through my last two long runs. Then I took a shower and sat around in my bathrobe listening to my dogs snore, eating ice cream out of the carton in a pre-Lenten indulgence, as I plan to give up sweets again this year. Then my ex-boyfriend and I had beers and hummus and chicken salad and veggies and couscous for dinner and were friends, and all was good.

On Lundi Gras, I had dinner with my brother and his girlfriend. She and I confessed to not having seen certain movies, and he reacted particularly violently to one. "I DO NOT THINK I CAN EVER AGAIN SIT AT A TABLE IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA WHERE TWO OUT OF THE THREE PEOPLE HAVE NOT SEEN COOL RUNNINGS!" Well. I have obviously added it to my queue. This, though, coming from the guy who has never seen Miracle! He admits this in the middle of the Winter Olympics, no less! As Mrs. Mike Eruzione, this offends me kind of a lot. ("I play for the United States of America.") Speaking of which, the feature on Today about the coach made me cry buckets while removing curtain rods from my bedroom wall. It was so good that I almost, but not quite, forgave the show for employing a certain ex-president's daughter as an Olympic correspondent, which I am going to go ahead and say is straight ridiculous.

And now, random links:

My Avett Bros. love goes on & on. Here's their performance on Austin City Limits that aired recently. If you don't want to watch the full 30 minutes, just watch Murder in the City and When I Drink, two of my all-time favorites of theirs. Gorgeousness.

If you like Olympic figure skating, or even if you don't, you should probably go ahead and read the men's figure skating liveblog by Joe R. and AB Chao. It is enjoyable.

I love the videos where you can hear the sound of the coaches and players during and after the football games. You know what I'm talking about? Just in case not, here's the one for the 4th quarter of the Super Bowl. It's six minutes of delicious. The moment between Brees and Payton at the end makes me boo hoo every time.

Every single person on the internet has already linked to this article, but I'm posting it anyway. Ebert in Esquire. I've been reading Ebert's most excellent blog for years, and this is a great profile. You have to love a man who responds to Sarah Palin's comment that the rest of America appreciates what Massachusetts just did in its Senate election by tweeting, "All except for sick people, idealists and the sane." Or who says what so many of us have thought but might not readily admit, "It is just plain not humanly possible to dislike Taylor Swift." As for his blog, it has an crazy number of readers and commenters, and he thoughtfully replies to so many of them. Also wonderful: his post about being able to eat or drink anymore. And his post about remembering Gene Siskel. Really, the whole damn blog is pretty wonderful. Is it wrong to think that Roger Ebert is an American hero? Because I kind of do.

Update

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 23:24:00 +0000

Oh, February. It is flying by. Highlights of this week ... the family (minus my sister and brother-in-law, buried in snow) gathered for a post-wedding, post-Super Bowl catch-up dinner. My mom outdid herself with the deliciousness -- homemade mac and cheese, shrimp stew, broccoli casserole, yumminess overall -- and everyone basically re-lived the game in a three-hour highlight reel of play-by-plays and memories. My brother and sister-in-law were at the game in Miami, and they had many fine tales to tell. Re-experiencing the game this way around the dinner table was almost as fun as the game itself.

:::

My little brother called me to tell me he was bringing over an early birthday present, and that I was going to love it. LOVE IT. I had no idea what he had cooking, but he showed up and put a CD in the stereo and pressed play and I heard the opening chords of "Lakes of Pontchartrain," the song we loved from the Swell Season show. Immediately I burst into tears. "I thought I'd never hear it again!" He laughed and explained that he'd found the whole show online and stayed up until 4 a.m. trying to convert the songs into mp3 files and voila! Here they were. I was so happy. There are a few tiny clips of it up on YouTube, but they're not great quality and are only a few seconds of the song, which is quite long. Listening to the whole show again, including the talking between songs & all of the audience sing-alongs, brings back great memories of a great night. And hearing this song again is just the best. It snowed on Friday morning. It didn't stick for long, but it snowed hard, big beautiful flakes, and I drove to an appointment that morning in the thick of it, listening to that song and weeping at the beauty of the snow and life and it all. Happiness. The love of Glen & Marketa goes on and on.

:::

The majority of my weekend, including Friday which was a snow day (ridiculous), has been spent stashing away pretty much the entirety of my possessions in my closets. When you are preparing to have your entire house re-painted, everything has to come off the walls, and everything has to come off the furniture that you have to move into the middle of the rooms. This has been a bigger job than I ever could have imagined, and I am still totally not done. I have filled up a few bags of things to give away, along with about ten boxes of books, so that feels good. Really, how many books does a person need? When you can give away hundreds and still have hundreds left, I'd say that's enough. I feel very grown up. I still haven't made the final decision about my gray (all rooms but kitchen) -- the one I thought I liked is too putty-colored and not gray enough, and the other one is a little too dark -- so I'm hitting the paint store again for more samples -- but I think I'm decided on the blue for my kitchen. Great goodness, I just hope this endeavor is worth it. It hasn't even started, and it already feels like a full-time job. I can't help but be a little anxious about reining in the pets throughout the chaos and also about the totally blank slate my house will be when the painting is done. Where will I even start? I have no idea. One step at a time, I guess.

:::

District 9 was really good and scared the bejeezus out of me! I thought I was going to have a heart attack watching it. I'd also like to say that I'm not sure how it happened that both Community and Parks & Recreation are better than The Office and 30 Rock every Thursday, but they are. Meanwhile, I'm now done with season two of thirtysomething on DVD and the little feature on Snuffy Walden is very enjoyable. I've always loved his music and not just because he was born in my homestate. I had the soundtrack of this show on cassette, and now I have it on CD, and who doesn't get chills during the opening theme of The West Wing? He also scores Friday Night Lights, which -- awesome. Gotta love that Snuffy.

:::

And now for everyone's favorite topic (I kid), running. I did a short three-miler mid-week, which was fine. Yesterday was a two hour & 20 minute run, and I made it 11.58 miles. I think at this point in the game I am going to need to accept that for those super long runs, a 12-minute mile pace is how I'm going to average out and that's the end of the story. It is what it is. I was dead tired by the end, but I survived. It was a beautiful sunny day, in the upper 40s without a cloud in the sky, and I was comfortable once I got going in shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Weather like this would be awesome on race day. Just saying, weather gods. I can't believe it's two weeks from today.

Super Bowl weekend

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 23:59:00 +0000

Well, good Lord. What a weekend. I'm going to have to break it down even though I am a bit delirious.

Friday night, my old friend and I drove to the big city to see Mamma Mia on tour. It is by no means the greatest show on earth, but we had a great time, and there's really never a bad time to be had at a musical as far as I'm concerned. It took us about two hours to get there in the already thick game weekend traffic, but we enjoyed our bag of car snacks and reminiscing about the good old days -- honestly, it is so great to have old friends with whom you can laugh when looking back on the very stupid parties you used to have and very stupid boys you used to kiss.

:::

Very late night, so slept in a little and headed to the farmer's market later than usual ... they were out of my beloved eggs and strawberries and oranges, so I just got some carrots and broccoli and bread. Eventually it was time for the hard part of the weekend, which was hitting the road for a two hour run after not running for two weeks, what with being felled by the swine flu and what have you. I knew I was in no way physically ready for this, but what could I do? It was time, and this race is in three weeks, and there's no more time to screw around! Luckily, it was in the low 50s and sunny, which felt great. The first hour was dare I say semi-pleasant. This run was different for me because I stocked up on things to help me finish it alive, basically. I have been so run down and have not been running at all, and my lungs still ache somewhat from coughing uncontrollably for days on end, so I knew I needed assistance. I bought a 22-ounce handheld bottle and filled it with half water, half powerade. I brought along a few sports jelly beans and a little tube of Gu. I took a sip or two from the bottle every mile and had a bean every other mile or so and shot the Gu at about 6 miles and about 9 miles. I can't say any of this made me feel sensational by any means, but I have to believe it helped on some level, particularly the hydration. The sky became cloudy by about mile 7, and it got colder, and I started feeling extremely lousy. I slowed down by almost two minutes per mile and honestly felt more like I was shuffling than running. I wasn't in physical pain for most of the run other than very achy hips -- although the bottoms of my feet definitely got sore by the end -- but I just didn't feel strong at all. I knew I wasn't going to quit, but it sure wasn't a lot of fun. I made it 10.02 miles with an average pace of 11:59 in the two hours, which I'm going to go ahead and put a positive spin on by deeming it a post-swine flu win. (Looking back ... on my first 10-mile run of my training three years ago, it took me 20 more minutes to run 10 miles. So, I feel pretty good about that. And what do you know, that run sucked, too! Oh, well. Maybe this is just not my best distance.) I am hoping that packing in some solid mid-week runs for the next three weeks will help make me a little stronger ... I've got a 2:20 run this weekend, a 10K race the next weekend, and then the race is the weekend after that, holy heavens. So -- while my training certainly leaves a lot to be desired and I haven't transformed myself into the running machine I fantasized I would have become by now, my hope is that with three eight-milers, a 10-miler, and an 11-12 miler behind me, I can at least run the whole thing and have a good time with my friends on my damn 35th birthday.

:::

All of this is mindnumbingly boring compared to what happened on Sunday! My friend and I decided we only live once and headed to the big city for the biggest of big games. We left early enough to get to the best brunch place on planet earth just when it opened and settled in for satsuma mimosas, shrimp and grits, shrimp etouffee omelettes, and coffee. Yes, please.

We headed to the Quarter and found a prime spot on a sunny balcony next-door to the Cathedral where we drank more mimosas and watched a dog parade. What is better than a sunny balcony of friendly people and champagne-based drinks overlooking Jackson Square and dogs in Saints costumes? Not much.

The good thing about our day was that we planned not to have plan, and it all worked out so well. We wandered through the thick of things for a while into the afternoon, people watching down the mayhem of Bourbon Street and just having a gay old time. We weren't sure where we were going to settle to watch the game, but when we stumbled on a tried and true oyster house line, we decided it looked like as good a place as any. Plenty of TVs, good food, cold beer, and nice people, both staff & guests, most of whom seemed to be very rowdy and welcoming locals. We got a table right by the front door for excellent street-scene people watching, and we also had great TV views, so it was just perfect! The oyster shuckers were banging merrily behind the bar, the ladies who run the line became our best friends, and we bonded with the folks at the next table, naturally. When we were seated, the game wasn't for more than two hours, so we just started drinking beers and ordering food and one cup and one dish after another, the time flew by ... all in all, over the course of the day and evening, we had seafood gumbo, crawfish hush puppies, red beans and rice, raw oysters, fried shrimp, and fried crabfingers ... it was a bit much, but what else could we do? Pretty soon we were patting our Acme babies, our stomachs full of food and love, and watching the game there was truly so much damn fun.

There was a line out the door the entire game, which seemed a bit crazy, but I think they were trying to watch through the window all the while hoping that some people would get up and leave, which they hardly ever did. Why would they? There was singing and chanting and cheering and hugging and nail biting and spilling and dancing and it was all just perfect if you ask me. By the time the end was near and the win was clear, I don't even know. Tears, embracing, screams about destiny. It was beautiful. I look crazy in this picture, but I don't care:

We poured into the streets and witnessed so much joy. Street musicians with giant brass instruments on corners, blowing their horns and gathering crowds of dancing fans. A girl executing perfect post-game cartwheels across the street with a Santa hat in her hand. People raising their decorated black and gold umbrellas in the air and starting second lines. So much love in the air in that way that is only New Orleans, in that way where you feel like it's the only city on earth. Destiny! Magic.

Scenes from swine flu

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 02:01:00 +0000

Tuesday ... teeny cough. Seems harmless. Figure due to vocal cord damage caused by massive screaming fits two days prior at game.

Wednesday ... cough not so teeny, but feel fine. Pleasant lunch at favorite coffee shop. Cough becomes grosser as day progresses. Fall asleep before the State of the Union and have a really weird night ... freezing in bed even though under down comforter and atop down featherbed topper.

Thursday ... Wake up. Cough, cough, cough. Cough. Check to see if lungs still in chest because it doesn't feel like it. Decide to take temperature. 101.6. Call in sick and go back to bed. Wake up about 11:30. Call mother, act pathetic. (Go-to response to being sick.) Mother strongly advises calling doctor due to badness of cough. Think to self, I don't need no stinking doctor. But I call anyway, and they squeeze me in later that afternoon.

Stop off at the lab first for a flu swab, where a tech inserts giant q-tips so far up my nostrils that she touches my brain. I decide on the spot I might never get over the painful indignity of that brief but heinous moment. Sit in waiting room, attempt to read A Confederacy of Dunces. Nurse takes temperature, which is now 103. Try to remain seated on bed while waiting for doctor but eventually decide to lie down and take a little nap. Fall fast asleep with hand over eyes to block the florescent light. Doctor arrives and asks me for some cough details about which I will spare you, but when I answer, she nods knowingly and sincerely says, "I'm so sorry." She pulls my flu swab results and says, "Yep! Positive for Influenza A, we're looking at swine flu!" Tells me repeatedly not to go near small children and that I very possibly caught it at the game. Prescribes some meds and sends me on my way.

I go to the pharmacy, where I stand around feeling really horrible and wondering if I am fit to be in public in this condition and thinking as CVS spins around me that it is the most terrible, frightening place on earth. Finally the meds are ready and I take to the couch, where I lie staring at the ceiling and thinking, "I am going to die from this." I think fever makes you crazy. Like, legitimately insane. I remember talking to my friends briefly on the phone and saying things like, "My eyelids hurt." Everything hurts. My gums. I wonder if maybe I got hit by a car and no one told me. I think I tell my mom that I feel like someone has beaten me with a bag of bricks.

(Let me just go ahead and say that Thursday was so dreadful that I would not wish this illness on my worst enemy and encourage you to get that swine flu shot! I mean it! I realize that my life was not actually in danger, but I was convinced otherwise by the cough that went down to the bottom of my lungs and turned them inside out, the blinding headache, and the alarming body aches, a trifecta of suffering not experienced since I had to leave spring break early senior year of high school after coming down with mono. This was as bad as mono. Which, for me, was as bad as it had ever been. No. Just ... no. Again: I do have perspective and realize there are much worse problems to have in life! I am just saying that I truly thought I was never going to be able to get off that couch. I couldn't sleep because everything was so sore that I'd have to switch positions and switching positions hurt. My friend had her baby Wednesday night, and I became despondent that I would never be well enough to meet her. I thought, she will grow into old age and I will never get to see her beautiful face. It truly seemed that dire. Like I said, fever. Ridiculous.)

The next few days are a feverish blur. I dream that I shoot a kitten involved in a murder plot because neither Agents Walker nor Casey from Chuck can be found to advise me about a better option. I watch a lot of TV. Even for me. The whole BBC version of The Office. Well over half of the entirety of Arrested Development, which for reasons that escape me I have never watched before, but which is delivered by my brother with the instructions, "It is important that you watch this." He is so right: nothing will ever be the same. General Hospital, where I get irrationally attached to a character named Dante and righteously offended about the awfulness of Sonny Corinthos. Caprica, which I decide I hate. The first eight episodes of thirtysomething season two, which have held up nicely, shoulder pads notwithstanding. A few season four episodes of Friday Night Lights that I needed to catch up on. (Riggins!)

There is a lot of lying around and drifting in and out of consciousness. If I never see another packet of Lipton cup-a-soup it will be too soon. I know things have reached a low point when my dog is licking off the robe I am wearing at the time soup that I'd spilled on it the day before and I just sit there and let her lick it. High point: Seeing Jon Hamm & Michael Buble together on screen, which feels at the time like the best thing that has ever happened to me. Other high points: my mom bringing me groceries. My dad bringing me iced coffee. My co-worker bringing me butternut squash soup with fancy croutons and a nice card from the group and Sprite and M&Ms. Really these people just drop the stuff off at the door and run away because no one wants to come inside. Not that I blame them. One of my co-workers calls me to check on me and says, "How did this happen? You practically drink hand sanitizer." It is so true. But I did hug a lot of strangers at the game. And that Vikings fan did spill his drink on my head. And I did drink some million dollar cups of Superdome draft beer that had probably been prepared by some hands of questionable cleanliness. Does it matter at this point? No.

Fast forward until today, a week since teeny cough started, and I went back to work for a half-day, if only to get away from my animals and see some human faces, after not leaving the house for what felt like a million days, but was in reality only like five. Running: Derailed. So totally derailed. Can't imagine having stamina to do a short run this coming weekend, let alone a long run. But I guess I have to try. If I don't really get up to speed on training, I might just have to shrug and embrace the notion of just finishing. But I hope to build up again and be able to run the whole thing with pride. Might be tricky considering it's so soon and I'm only up to eight miles, but I want to try.

Meanwhile, my friend started a new blog where she writes about cooking and music, which I think is a fantastic idea. And now I must go and watch some craziness go down on the season premiere of Lost.

Y'all don't even know

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 01:37:00 +0000

There was a little football game yesterday. I had no plans to actually attend this game, but a ticket miracle was masterminded the night before, and I happily embraced the opportunity to road trip down there with my little brother for a day of frolicking and merriment in the big city.

Before the game, we lucked into a table at a restaurant owned by a family our older brother is very close to, who actually were among the wedding guests (their goodness was demonstrated by the fact that they missed the game the weekend before to attend the wedding -- that is true friendship right there) and we basically fell down and died over the deliciousness of the house specialty rum drink and the shrimp and redfish with crabmeat and onion rings and Irish coffee and bread pudding in whiskey sauce. Honestly, that meal alone made the entire trip worth it, as crazy as that might sound.

Soon enough we found ourselves swept up in the masses walking to the dome, drinking champagne from the bottle on our way in the warm afternoon sunlight, and I thought I had experienced the height of my lifetime's game hysteria at a couple of other big games, but this was an entirely different level.

This crowd -- well. Young and old, rich and regular, black and white -- all decked out in black and gold and all screaming at the top of their lungs for so many hours that I think I suffered permanent hearing loss. It was just so much fun.

It was intense, though. Like, you could see the weight of the closeness of the game starting to take its toll as people would quiet down for a few minutes, clenching their hands over their mouths and just staring at the field as if willing it to happen: "Finish strong, boys." The few Viking fans around us obviously loved their team, too, and weren't afraid to scream and ring their cowbell. One of them behind me splashed a large portion of his drink all over my head. But it was all good. We laughed about it. I mean, I don't see any reason to be hateful to other fans. I have nothing against the people of Minnesota. They traveled a long way to be there, and they cared about the outcome just as much and love their team just as much.

But they were certainly outnumbered by our diehard fans. There was bonding in the seats by strangers and friends, and it wasn't long before we were embracing everyone around us at various points in the game. I swear when it was all over and all had avoided stroking out or having heart attacks, some random guy almost kissed my brother on the mouth as they jumped up and down in each others arms. There was just that kind of love in the air. It was truly dizzying. The guy next to me sat down and quietly put his face in his hands and said, "I never thought I'd live to see this." He was, like 20 years old. It just seemed so impossible to hope for, and yet, here it was. Actually happening. In a classy display of good sportsmanship, two men on our row in opposing jerseys hugged it out at game's end.

In the ladies room after the game, all was chaos. In the stall next to me, a woman cried out in savage glee, "Bitches, y'all don't even KNOW!" But we all knew.

As we drove home, my brother and I listened to talk radio, where the commentators, members of the crowd, and callers alike lost their collective minds, slurring with overwhelmed emotion and probably lots and lots of beer. We laughed so hard and so hoarsely with barely any voices left with which to guffaw, just delirious from the day and everyone's spastic radio comments. The sentiments expressed were so emotional and clumsy but so obviously heartfelt and true. People called in from all over the country -- even from other countries, like Panama, shouting their sometimes garbled cries of elation as members, far and wide, of the Who Dat Nation. And I can only imagine what was going on throughout the city ... we got out of town pretty quickly as work awaited this morning, but there are reports of fireworks in the northern parts of the state, and my neighbor said our street had a party rolling down it of people hollering who dat. It's just so huge, so enormous, this excitement and joy.

I can't really explain what it felt like to be in that crowd. I am certainly the least among sports fans in my family, and it's not like I know squat about professional football, so I'm not saying this while pretending to be something I'm not. And it might not be my city in that I was not born there, and I don't pretend to claim it as such. But as anyone who's from around here knows, it really is our city, all of ours, and it's our team, and I think it's okay to feel that way. And unless you're from here or have lived here a while, you probably can't understand, and that's okay. Just like we don't understand what it means to be from where you're from. We know that. It's all okay. But see, our people, our parents and our grandparents, have been waiting for this. And it is something in the blood of my family, these families, all of our families, no matter where we're from in this state. Of course for those from New Orleans it means the most. But to all of us, it means a whole hell of a lot.

So, please. Don't belittle this team as if it's just a part of a poetic narrative that makes good newspaper copy. Don't try to take away the win by blaming it on this or that. Don't try to cheapen or slap in the face or knife through the chest something that we've been waiting for, well, forever. Have a heart. Read this article, one of the best things I've ever read in my life. Watch this video and try not to cry. And then if you don't understand just a little bit better, and you still want to hate on the Saints, then I don't even know what to tell you.

I'm so happy we got to be there. I will never forget it.

Wedding weekend

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 16:45:00 +0000

So! January. It's been a bang-up month so far, a great start to the new year.

My big brother got married, and it was a beautiful weekend. It moves me that he married this woman one year to the day that he met her. It was a small affair, but the fun was so big that I still can't really believe it and am not quite yet over it.

Old friends, new friends. Family, dancing, laughing, and tears. Memories. Joking disbelief that he was finally getting married. But a reminder by my other brother in his toast that he's always wanted to get married -- he was just waiting until it was right. Their happiness together, my brother's and my new sister-in-law's, is a meaningful reminder that sometimes it's true that when you know, you know.

I was so happy to be there and to share in the incredible weekend. Part of me wanted to dislike the place they got married on principle because I'd envisioned it as sort of snooty and exclusive, and I guess it sort of is, but I fell in love with it on sight and was totally hypnotized by the beauty of the beach and the quaintness of the shops and the whole scene and the yummy fish tacos & iced coffee. I cannot tell a lie; I can't wait to go back.

To spill more about the wedding feels like a violation of what was kind of a small and private affair, and I don't want to explain all the laughter and tears. It feels like they belong only to the folks who were there, and I want to honor that. But needless to say, I am overjoyed for them both.

Running, running, running, blah.

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 23:42:00 +0000

My training could be going better! I can't lie. Looking back to three years ago, I maybe missed two or three mid-week runs my entire training period, and for the past several weeks, I have done ... no midweek runs. It's kind of ridiculous to acknowledge this, but there you go. It's just the truth. I've not missed any of my long runs, but I know I'm missing plenty of mileage that I should be getting in there. Today's long run was without a doubt the worst long run this time around. It was another 90-minute run, and I only made it 8 miles, and it was just straight horrible. I am really glad I didn't stop and I'm also really glad it's over. It was in the upper 60s, cloudy and gray, with 90% humidity, and I was drenched with sweat and felt heavy and plodding and like the worst runner ever to hit the streets. Hating running, hating life. HATE! But it's over now, and onward I go. I think I need to actually start running during the week and actually hydrate during the long runs ... the guy leading my training group said we should get 4-8 ounces of fluids in every 15-20 minutes, and ... no. Never. So -- I should probably get on that. And I should probably stop eating pizza and drinking beer the night before a long run. Lesson learned!

That's all I have to say about running right now. I am totally bored by the topic these days.

The best thing that happened today was my trip to the farmer's market where I spent every dollar I had in my purse on brown jasmine rice, goat's milk yogurt (what?), grape tomatoes, a quart of strawberries (oh, sweet blessed beginning of strawberry season!), organic satsumas, broccoli, oatmeal wheat bread, and two dozen eggs. Totally worth it. This is what happens after watching Food, Inc.. You remember that it's better to hurl yourself out of bed on a Saturday morning to get to the farmer's market before the eggs sell out than to sleep in, and you stop at as many different booths as you can, and you just buy some fresh damn food. It's important.

Also important: The Gavin and Stacey Christmas special is now up on YouTube! It will probably get yanked soon, so catch it while you can. Part one is here, and it goes on for nine parts total. Unsurprisingly, it is one hundred percent delightful. Oh, how I love that show.

January living

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 01:24:00 +0000

I feel like if I don't sit down to write something right now, weeks might go by, maybe even months. So here's what is happening.

I'm sitting in my living room. Daisy is curled up in a chair sighing heavily, which is what she does in winter. Zuko is standing attentively at my feet, on alert for whatever exciting thing he thinks is about to happen but isn't. The cats are eating dinner across the house behind closed doors. The white icicle lights I've yet to take down after the holidays are twinkling along the window. (I hung them inside for the first time. I might just leave them here all year.) A clean out the fridge dinner of whole wheat shell pasta and broccoli, onions, garlic, and ginger are cooking on stove and stinking up the joint in that special broccoli-ish way.

I took off early today because I had to seriously TCB. Put my life in order, bake cupcakes, furiously make last-minute CDs filled with love songs. My older brother is getting married this weekend. Holy moly. We are excited. I filled two discs with love songs that I not only love but that I think my brother and his new wife will love, which is not always easy. Songs about falling in love and staying in love, many of which are songs from mixes I've given old boyfriends, songs from mixes they've given me.

It is stunning how quickly a song can take you back to a mix CD and a memory of a Valentine's Day, of an anniversary, of a dance, of a guitar, of a road trip, of a day you got engaged. One of those old boyfriends stopped by today with a belated Christmas gift, a book about running, which was thoughtful. On Christmas Eve, I actually exchanged a brief but amiable Facebook message with one man from the past, probably the one I thought I was least likely to ever communicate with again in any form or fashion for the rest of my life. One of them, who was never a boyfriend but a friend and a possibility, sent me a Christmas gift and a letter in the mail, a letter of reconciliation, I think. I hope. What I'm trying to say is that these songs bring back memories. And that in almost every case, with every person these songs make me remember, there is peace. Not with all, but with most. Even if just the tiniest moment of it. And that feels pretty good as a new year and a new decade begin.

Daisy has taken Zuko's spot by my feet and is blinking at at me and resting her chin on my thigh, on which she just loudly sneezed.

My dad and I went to hear Anthony Bourdain speak, which was a delight. Chuck is back on TV, which can only improve America. I ate Mexican food with friends and listened to my little brother play, which remains one of my favorite activities in life. I will see my sister and brother-in-law again tomorrow. My mom made tuna salad. I held an extremely cute puppy. I ran a little over 8 miles a few days ago, not very fast, and it was actually totally fine, and today I ran 3 miles faster than I ever have. Not tremendous speed in the grand scheme of things, but tremendous for me. And part of it was that 3 miles now feels short, so I didn't feel I had to pace myself. But most of it was that it was 55 degrees and sunny after a week where it's gone down into the teens night after godforsaken night, killing plants and pipes and spirits all over town, and I was so happy to be outside in a sleeveless shirt and shorts and run around and pretend for just a few minutes that spring has sprung. Which it hasn't. But it will. Of course. Thank goodness.

More house plans

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Tue, 05 Jan 2010 20:21:00 +0000

As mentioned previously, design smartypants and pretty lady AB Chao very kindly visited my home recently en route from the big city to her house and told me some things. Some were suggestions; some were orders. Somehow she knew this combination is just what I needed.

Finally, after the holidays ate my brain, I'm sitting down to write down as much as I can remember from what she said. I want to get this party started. The top priorities of phase one are paint, lighting, and window treatments.

PAINT

Painting is important. All baseboards, trim, cabinets, drawers, and doors need to be brightened up with a color like Benjamin Moore's Super White, Decorator's White, or Linen White. This should be done in semi-gloss. Seeing how I kept being drawn to shades of gray, AB suggested painting every single room a gray color I really like, with the exception of the kitchen, which I should pick a fun, bright color for, like one of my crazy aqua blues, or straight up Tiffany blue. The bright white against the light gray throughout the whole house will make it look nice, and I can throw color in with furniture and art and bedding and accents, which can be switched around when I like new colors. Though I never envisioned a strategy like this, it is growing on me. Walls should be done in eggshell, "one up from flat." (That's what I wrote down as I followed her around the house, but I'm still not entirely sure what it means.) Ceilings should also be repainted, possibly one shade darker or the same color as the trim, or 20% lighter than the wall color.

I think that starting with paint makes me a bit paralyzed, because thinking about how every single thing in my house needs to be painted is kind of daunting, what with the household disruption, mess, and expense. But I figure, how long can it possibly take? I mean, I have no idea? Not going to think about it today, but must think about it soon.

LIGHTING

Every ceiling has an ugly dome light that looks like a b00b. I really want to invest in some cute pendants. I'll need an electrician, probably, but that's okay. AB likes this one, for example.

WINDOW TREATMENTS

Some kind of bamboo shades or roman shades. Longer curtains that are hung higher. I worry about tumbleweeds of pet hair nesting in floor-length curtains. I'm not really thinking this far down the line yet, though, if truth be told.

DOORKNOBS

Lose the shiny, cheap brass ones and get some mismatched old antique-y ones.

KITCHEN

Look into a counter-depth refrigerator instead of one that juts out farther than the stove and counters with which it shares a wall. I had never even heard of such a thing! But I am glad to know it exists. Possibly lose a set of cabinets hanging on that wall and put up some long shelves instead.

ENTRANCE HALL

Possibly some cute wallpaper.

DINING ROOM

Probably the piano should be sold. It's huge and hulking and sounds bad. French doors should once and for effing all replace the sliding glass door of pain.

LIVING ROOM

New couch needed, obviously. New media cabinet of some kind, maybe something low and wide. Vince Chao thinks the TV should be hung on the wall as befits a person of the 21st century.

BOOKS

Books should be culled, removed from their various bookcases all over the house, and possibly all stored in one room, such as what is right now the "study." Maybe on something like this or some sort of Billy bookcase configuration? With no Ikea in this state, that could be tricky. This is a concept I am having trouble wrapping my mind around, but I am trying to be open to it. My other decorating consultant, my friend S., loves this idea.

SMALL THINGS

Stop buying small things. Small rugs, small little things on the walls hung in isolation from each other instead of in groups, small shelving units, etc. Think bigger, and think grouped.

Phew! I think that's about it. This is just the tip of the iceberg, though. Once there are basic framework things in place, there's the matter of filling the framework with cute things. But the time will come for that. I am glad to have this written down and look forward to actually getting started once I work up the nerve.

Here's to being nervy in 2010!

Quick check-in

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Tue, 05 Jan 2010 00:25:00 +0000

Bleary-eyed beginning to the first week of the year back at work!

I want to go ahead and make a quick note of last week's runs ... I had a quick three-miler (by quick, I mean I did it in 30 minutes -- quick for me) on a warm and sunny day -- we're talking shorts and a sleeveless shirt -- heaven.

And then I had my long run, a 90-minute extravaganza. It wasn't altogether terrible ... it was in the low 50s and sunny and really quite beautiful outside. It didn't take me long to take off my hat and jacket and run in shorts and a sleeveless shirt again. I guess if I had a fave running outfit, that would be it! My slowest was mile four, when I felt quite tired, but the rest of them held pretty steady, and I ended up averaging out at a 10:47-minute per mile pace for the whole 8.34 miles. I feel okay about it, though I have to admit that by mile 7, I was somewhat delirious and the bottoms of my feet hurt a lot.

I kept passing a lot of the same people more than once, so I think a bunch of us were out there on longer runs that day ... everyone looked a little deranged, bloated, and hungover, to tell you the God's honest truth, which I guess is par for January 2. But we soldiered on, and I really do love that feeling of not being out there alone, running among the strangers whose faces start to become familiar week after week. Somewhat dismayed, though, not to have ever run four times in a week yet during this training period. There was a lot more mileage in the schedule I followed last time, but I feel like it's going okay anyway.

I think this is the week when I am finally going to have to break down and go to the gym. I just don't think I have the constitution (or the gear) to run outside in the 20s, which is what it's going to be in the mornings this week. Bless the hearts of all who run in this and much colder weather, but I am not one of you. So ... treadmill, here I come. Gross but necessary.

Not sure what else to say. I find myself without a new book to read so I'm diving back into The Hunger Games even though I just finished it. It's just that fun to read. Meanwhile, I'll just be sitting back watching hour after hour of No Reservations.

Year in Review

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 17:40:00 +0000

1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?

Triathlons (this will be the answer to many questions, I suspect) & pre-dawn boot camp.

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Last year's resolutions: "I'd like to stick with running, be a good friend, sister, pseudo-aunt, and daughter, and continue to travel down life's path attempting to make my dreams come true. Also, my sister and I made a mutual resolution: Clutter-Free in '09!"

I think I did pretty well with these! I'm not totally clutter-FREE by any means, but I've made progress. As for traveling down life's path attempting to make my dreams come true, I think I came into a clearer focus in 2009 -- which was kind of a year of rebuilding and recreating and re-imagining -- of what those dreams actually are, assisted in part by this loveliness. So that was a good thing. In 2010, I want to buy locally/independently (food, books, coffee shops, etc.) whenever humanly possible ... to move toward recreating my home as a space that feeds my soul ... I want to fit in to the perfect space, feel natural and safe in a volatile place ... to be brave and open ... and to run the half-marathon on my birthday faster than I ran it in '07! I want to ring 35 in with a celebratory bang.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes! To twin sons, wow. A couple more babies are on their way in the coming weeks and months -- a girl and a surprise -- about which I am very, very excited.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No, thankfully.

5. What countries did you visit?

None. I did leave the continental U.S., though, when I went to Hawaii for the second year in a row! Which was, again, awesome.

6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?

Mad, passionate, true & fiery love! I'm just gonna go ahead and put it out there.

7. What dates from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

Inauguration Day, the birth of the aforementioned sons, and even though this might sound weird, the day Michael Jackson died.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Triathlons. And giving up sweets for Lent -- maybe that shouldn't be considered an "achievement," but it totally felt like one!

9. What was your biggest failure?

One of my favorite friendships got bungled this year (see #37); thus far, it has been semi-salvaged and is well on the way to being repaired, I think, but I'd like to completely heal it in the coming year.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

No illness to speak of, thank goodness. (Strangely, the sickest I usually am all year is during a period of wretched, miserable hay fever, from which I've suffered for the past 15 years or so, without fail. This year, during my sweets reprieve, I didn't suffer from it at all. I barely even sneezed. No idea if the two were related, but I found it fascinating.) My shins are injured every time I start a running training program, and this year was no different.

11. What were the best things you bought?

My bike because it made me a triathlete. My bed because it helped me to sleep better. My plane tickets to visit my friend and sister. My various and sundry concert tickets.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

She might not approve of my saying this, but I totally celebrate my friend for facing the shocker of having twins with aplomb and caring for not one but two newborns at the same time. I didn't realize all that goes into such a thing until visiting them, and I remain awestruck. It is a feat. She is awesome!

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Repeat of last year: "Quite frankly all of the people who voted against gay rights in various elections. It sickens and saddens me a whole lot."

14. Where did most of your money go?

Registrations for various athletic events and equipment and attire for various athletic activities. WEIRD! But good.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

The awesome live music I saw this year ... I mean, I had so much fun at these concerts; they were like therapy. The Avett Brothers, Brandi Carlile (twice), the Indigo Girls, Ingrid Michaelson, and the Swell Season. All of these but two were with my little brother, which made them all the more fun & special to me. I also got very excited about my older brother's impending nuptials and other exciting family news.

16. What song will always remind you of 2009?

Last Tears, specifically this version. I just think it's very beautiful.

I don't regret and won't forget
a single thing that we went through ...
I'm gonna dip into your memory and take a good stiff drink
And when I'm drunk on the last drop of sadness about how we went wrong
I'm gonna play this song
Make some coffee black and strong
Give thanks for healing time
And finally make up my mind

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? Happier.

b) thinner or fatter? About the same, but a wee bit stronger. Just a wee.

c) richer or poorer? Richer, but not exceedingly more so.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Purchasing locally grown food from the farmer's market ... I definitely made tremendous strides in this regard but could have done better.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Fretting. Regretting.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

Slept in, attended mass, ate a giant delicious meal, went to see Up in the Air, and watched Up. A fun, family-filled day.

21. Did you fall in love in 2009?

I thought maybe I did, but I think I was just confused.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

The TV show I most flipped my lid over this year was Chuck! It aired for two seasons before I watched it ... how this happened I'm still not sure ... but I'm all caught up and one hundred percent in love with everything about it and can't wait until it starts up again in January. Other than that ... the usual ... Friday Night Lights, Ugly Betty, The Office, So You Think You Can Dance, Mad Men, and Battlestar Galactica, which ended earlier this year and was a huge commitment time-wise and emotionally for several years. My favorite new show by a mile is Parks & Recreation. If you only watched the first season and haven't tuned in to see how funny it is this year, you're missing out. Also, I loved watching Extras & In Treatment and the hilarious and heartwarming Gavin and Stacey on DVD this year. I guess I watched kind of a lot of TV this year. But it was all good.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

I can't think of anyone. I try not to be a hater.

24. What was the best book you read?

Young adult fiction: I loved Octavian Nothing by M.T. Anderson and The Wednesday Wars by Gary Schmidt and Looking for Alaska by John Green and The Hunger Games and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins. Nonfiction: I loved Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food and Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life and Melissa Anelli's Harry: A History and Shelf Discovery: The Teen Classics We Never Stopped Reading by Lizzie Skurnick.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Other than Patty Griffin, with whom I fell in complete love and was new to me, this year was less about discovering new artists than it was about falling in love with some favorites all over again ... new albums by the artists listed in #15 made up the soundtrack of 2009 for me. I also couldn't get enough of Regina Spektor's new album. As for other artists who were brand new to me in 2009, I really like Amy Seeley & Greg Holden.

26. What did you want and get?

Medals for all four triathlons in my series. (Plus one extra.) thirtysomething released on DVD. A warm friendship with my ex-boyfriend, which I've learned is much better than having someone be dead to you.

27. What did you want and not get?

Rid of my under-eye circles.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

Gonna have to go with Slumdog Millionaire & The Edge of Heaven & The Class ... nothing else really grabbed me like those did. But I did also really enjoy Last Chance Harvey and Milk and Up in the Air and Up. (I laughed so hard when Doug the dog said, "I was hiding under your porch because I love you." I laugh basically whenever I remember it. Such a good movie.)

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I had a nice Thai dinner with my parents and brother the night before and a fun patio dinner with friends the night of. I turned 34.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Hmmmm...This is a hard one to answer. Honestly, looking back, it was a pretty great year.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?

Jeans? T-shirts? The usual.

32. What kept you sane?

The usual: great parents, great siblings, great friends. New: long bike rides and swims -- two of the most meditative and therapeutic activities I've ever participated in. Who knew?

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

It's a toss up between Chuck Bartowski and Don Draper. Chuck Bartowski is a perfectly reasonable fictonal character to adore; Don Draper, not so much ... Chuck is dopey & kind; Don is a cad but super sexy. I feel very divided!

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Marriage rights for all.

35. Whom did you miss?

My sister & faraway friends.

36. Who was the best new person you met?

The sons!

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009.

In the immortal words of Liz Phair, "It's better to be friends than lovers, and you shouldn't try to mix the two."

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

There was a dream, and one day I could see it,
like a bird in a cage I broke in
and demanded that somebody free it ...
Decide what to be, and go be it.

The Avett Brothers

(2008, 2007, 2006, 2005, 2004, and 2003.)

Patriotism

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 02:06:00 +0000

Where to start. I will get running out of the way. I made up last week's failed long run attempt again at the beginning of this week, and I actually made it the full 80 minutes, and it wasn't altogether horrible. I made it 7.4 miles (average per-mile pace of 10:49), and maybe I could have tried to go faster, but I was okay with it. I actually really sort of enjoyed miles four and five, no clue why. Tomorrow I'll run again on the last day of the year.

It's been a holiday season of movies for sure. It's Complicated was funny and cute, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit that my very favorite person in the movie was John Krasinski (Jim Halpert), who pretty much stole every scene he was in, as I told mo, with his comedic adorableness. I didn't love it the way I loved another Nancy Meyers film, Something's Gotta Give, but I definitely had a good time watching it. Next was Nine. I have to say that I understand why a lot of people would not enjoy this movie and might actually hate it, but I liked it! Mostly I just liked Marion Cotillard, the most beautiful woman on planet earth, as far as I'm concerned. Her part, her first song, and her overall gloriously luminous face were the best things about the movie by a mile. (Hear the whole song here. Just trust me. It was gorgeous.)

Today I went to the big city with my parents and little brother to have a totally delicious lunch of crab gumbo, grilled shrimp, fish, shrimp etouffee, bread pudding with whiskey sauce -- pretty much straight ridiculousness. It was off the charts fantastic. We headed in the rain afterwards to a museum where we watched a new film and visited the exhibits. It was all very stirring, as you can imagine, and I think we all felt a bit raw emotionally on the drive home in the pouring rain. I made the mistake of trying (and failing) to articulate effectively some of my mixed feelings after seeing the movie and visiting the museum. About how it's hard for me to feel pumped up about America and victory while feeling overwhelmed, sick, and sad at the same time. About how everything and everyone now presents it as fact that we did the right thing in bombing Japan, but is that just spin to justify that we did it? Well, this did not go over very well.

I try to remember that my parents were born in 1946 and grew up with a different perspective on this, having parents and siblings who lived through it all. And I know that they think I Just Don't Get It. And I know that I don't. I have tried to get it, though, I really have. I took something like 27 hours of history classes in college, trying to understand. I spent days in Normandy (series of entries starts here) and at the Imperial War Museum in London and the Holocaust Museum in D.C., trying to understand. I dined at the same table as an English D-Day veteran and talked to him about it, trying to understand. I watched and cried through hours upon hours of The War, trying to understand. I have rented untold numbers of WWII documentaries on everything from the Battle of the Bulge (which basically caused me to have an emotional breakdown) to hidden Jewish children and Anne Frank and Hitler's final days to the Berlin Airlift, trying to understand. I was lucky enough to go on a special tour of Pearl Harbor, where I kept on trying to understand. Today was my third visit to this museum. What I'm saying is that I've tried to expose myself to lots of different avenues of understanding. But still. I do not.

It's just impossible for me to process. Maybe it's impossible for anyone to process, and maybe that's why it's all boiled down to we were right, they were wrong, the end. Maybe that's the only way that, as a nation, we could recover and heal from all that happened. My brother tried to tell me that I can't look at it through a modern filter, and maybe he's right. The wars of our lifetime have certainly not been not very clear cut, but back then, maybe things really were a lot more black and white. I guess we had to try to win by any means necessary because losing was too unimaginable. But I swear, I was permanently changed by The Book Thief. All I could think about during the film today when they showed the rubble of a bombed German town, the shell of a burning community, were the people who lived there, who probably were poor and starving and completely effed by the Fuhrer and now dead. And that ultimately it was his fault, not ours. And that ultimately the deaths in Japan were the psycho, un-surrendering emperor's fault, not ours. Right? I just cannot deal with the fact that so many regular, innocent people died who were just living their lives. And I can't even begin to deal with all of the soldiers and military people who died. I mean, I just can't. It actually sits on my chest like a weight, especially after days like today.

And when I tried to explain this, the reaction was that I was simply wrong and we had no choice and we saved the world and that's that. And -- yes. I get that. Of course I recognize that unspeakable horrors and atrocities were being committed that needed to be stopped. Of course I am glad that we won the war and liberated the camps and ended the power of the reigning mega-crazies and appreciate the sacrifices made by millions and recognize, on some level, that we did what we had to do. But it doesn't make me want to stand up and cheer; it makes me feel like throwing up because all I see is the death and destruction. And I think what I did the worst job of explaining today is that while the movie was very cool and riveting, I don't like things that pat America on the back to the extreme about how right we were and are about everything and emphasize that we are the best country ever, because I get icky associations of "enemy" countries patting themselves on the back using the same reasoning about how they're right about everything and are really the best. It is like I am hyper-propaganda-paranoid. IS THAT CRAZY? I think maybe it is. I think this is what sent my family over the edge on the way home. But I can't help it! I think I am in the midst of a personal patriotism crisis! I am just trying to honestly reflect upon this and figure out what it all means. Maybe at the end of the day, part of being alive is being for your own country. Like how you're for the college football team in the town where you were born. Maybe it's just what people are supposed to do.

I think I'll just go watch this and cry some more.

Holidays so far

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 23:26:00 +0000

Let's get the running talk out of the way first. Since this week was the first week of four runs, I figured I'd get cracking as early as possible, so I left work early on Monday to head out for my 45-minute run. It's possible that a couple of hours were not sufficient time to adequately digest the giant amount of food consumed at my siblings' birthday lunch -- red beans and rice, hush puppies, both fried and marinated crab fingers, etc. -- BUT! I soldiered on, and somehow I ran 4.5 miles in 45 minutes. Yes, you read that correctly. For those following along, that is quite fast for me, to keep a 10-minute-mile pace for several miles in a row, and I just feel sort of proud about it. The perfect weather helped! In case I haven't mentioned it, the weather this month has been vile and disgusting 9 days out of 10, and this burst of sunshine and dry ground is just making everything so much better. I think that I am getting a little faster in part because I am being really conscious about relaxing my arms, almost to the point where they're more straight than bent at the elbow, which is weird, but it's working for me. On Wednesday, the run was really short -- only 20 minutes -- and I missed run three as it was set for Christmas morning and was literally freezing outside and I thought, "Eff it." Run four was set for 80 minutes, and I only made it three miles after yet another gargantuan holiday meal before just surrendering, walking to my brother's house, and asking him, defeated, to drive me home. And that's it on the running front. Tomorrow begins a new week, and I'm going to start it with the long run that was a bust yesterday. It's a process.

I finished reading The Daily Coyote: A Story of Love, Survival, and Trust in the Wilds of Wyoming by Shreve Stockton, and it's a mighty fine read indeed. I've been aware of her website for a long time, but somehow I missed that she'd published a book about her life with Charlie the coyote. Reading this book is making me feel all sorts of smooshy lovey-doveyness towards my pets. It's fascinating, and the photos are beautiful. Now I'm in the middle of Kitchen Confidential, and so far, so good. I also finished Catching Fire, the sequel to The Hunger Games, and it, like book one, was ridiculous. Ridiculously awesome in every way. What happens in these books is unbearable on many levels, but that's just part of what makes them impossible to put down. The fact that book three does not come out until August is causing me actual physical pain. I guess I'll just re-read the first two over and over until that day comes!

Now ... The History Boys. I'd heard of this play and movie but never knew much about it. Because everything lately comes back to Gavin and Stacey, I noted when listening to audio commentary of the episodes that one of the creators/writers/stars of the show, James Corden (Smithy), explained that many of Smithy and Gavin's guy friends were in The History Boys with him, so I rented the film. And I have to tell you, I really liked it. I had no idea that the play was a smash hit in London, then went on a smash tour, then was a smash Tony winner on Broadway, and then became a film, and that these cast members were together for years upon years playing the roles all the way through. The special features on the DVD are adorable and quite funny and touching, especially the tour diary. I'm very glad I saw this film.

On Christmas afternoon, as is a tradition, we headed to the movies. This year it was Up in the Air. I knew this movie has been getting raves, but I didn't know much about it. It definitely exceeded my expectations and proved to me that George Clooney is not only a first class dreamboat (which obviously I knew) but also a mighty, mighty fine actor. He was just incredibly good, and the movie was totally enjoyable even when uncomfortable and sad. Anna Kendrick: also fabulous. It was excellent, and I'd totally see it again. We were still in the movie mood that night, so we watched Up, which made me laugh and cry and was totally scary and traumatic and not for young children, I don't think. But totally and completely great nonetheless.

The holiday season thus far has been lovely. My mom outdid herself with the tons of delicious food, meal after meal; it was great to spend time and laugh with my sister and brother-in-law, who were here for Christmas; I had a great meal on a friend's birthday with the best Sazerac I've had in ages, which was somehow just what I needed on Christmas Eve-Eve; we all spent a ferociously stormy Christmas Eve morning feasting at my very favorite cafe, which was wonderful; my dad surprised us with tickets to today's Saints game, which was fun even though the ending was truly hein; (for the best piece I've ever read about the Saints, and maybe even New Orleans as a whole, read this article); there were moments of reconciliation. I'm looking forward to more relaxation and fun in the coming week as we all ring in the new year.

Alright?

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 16:30:00 +0000

I will now talk more about Gavin and Stacey. One of my favorite things about this show is how the characters will randomly burst into song, which is something that happens quite regularly with my own family and friends. There are tons of these moments on the show, more than clips exist online for, but here are a few of my favorite of these moments on the show, none of which are spoilerish in terms of plot: Smithy's big entrance, featuring the magnificent Pam. Uncle Bryn singing James Blunt in the car. (Oh my God, Uncle Bryn. Who is funnier, sweeter, more tragic in a way, and more ridiculous than Uncle Bryn? No one.) Smithy and Rudi rapping. I wish I could find the clip of Nessa and Bryn sitting at the arcade rehearsing "Something Stupid" and the gang singing Jack Johnson at a crucial moment I won't give away, and many more. And finally, in the spirit of the season, Smithy and Gavin doing "Do They Know It's Christmas?"

I really can't stop talking, at least in my head, like the characters on this show. A common Welsh greeting, apparently, is to say, "Alright, Stace?" and then the person responding will say, "Alright, Ness?" (I feel like I sound like Uncle Bryn when explaining something like this.) It is now how I want to greet everyone. Basically, I want to pretend that the entire world of Gavin and Stacey is real and that I live in it. I was able to find season three, so now I'm all done, except for the Christmas special, which is eluding me. I will not give up until I find it, though. (In case this sounds like an insane amount of TV, know that it's only 18 half-hour episodes, which is shorter than one season of an American show.) Basically, this show has made me laugh my face off and also get very moved at times, which is all I ask for in a show. I LOVE IT.

Other misc. things:

Four Months, Three Weeks and Two Days. I've been meaning to watch this for years, ever since A.O. Scott, whose reviews I normally trust, declared it his top film of the year a few years back. I knew nothing going into it. Um ... don't watch this movie by yourself on a cold and rainy night. That's all I have to say. It was harrowing. And horrifying, and bleak, and stark, and really scared the pants off of me in ways I can't really articulate without being spoilery about it. It might be a good movie, artistically speaking, and an important movie, politically speaking, but it's a movie I never want to see again.

The Hunger Games. The Hunger Games! I've been hearing all about The Hunger Games, but somehow it didn't fall into my life until now. On Gavin and Stacey, Gavin's mom, Pam, who is one of my favorite characters on the show and possibly ever in anything, exclaims, "Sh*t a brick!" when something truly major happens. And it was her voice, in her accent, that I heard in my head when finishing the book in bed late last night. "Sh*t a brick!" Like ... something major had happened, and that something major was reading this book and every single thing that happened in it. Major. Majorly exciting, majorly scary, majorly romantic, majorly awesome. I cannot wait to read the sequel. I am sh*tting a brick in anticipation.

And now for a running update ... feel free to skip if such things make your eyes glaze over. They practically make my own eyes glaze over, so I feel you. Yesterday wrapped up week 8 of training with a 72-minute run. I made it 6.62 miles. (10:45, 10:46, 10:50, 10:59, 11:14, 10:53, 10:33). I feel fine about it. After a week of no other running (I know) and a steady intake of cookies, brownies, turtle cheesecake, chocolate covered pecans, peppermint kisses, etc., I wasn't in the greatest condition for running and definitely felt it. But the day was the first truly gorgeous day we've had in weeks ... low 50s without a cloud in the bright, sunny sky ... so I vowed to enjoy the run as much as possible. When I felt tired, I told myself that I was basically running half a half-marathon, and with 10 weeks to go, that feels about right on track. I don't want to start going really far until the end; in addition to being probably physically impossible for me in this shape, it also seems anti-climactic. From here on out, the schedule demands four runs per week, and I'm going to have to be way more on the ball about actually running when I'm supposed to!

It's been a truly lovely weekend so far. A little sunshine goes a long way, it turns out.

What's occurrin'?

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 00:28:00 +0000

I've decided to try to start talking like Ness on my new favorite show, Gavin and Stacey. This means I will say things in a Welsh accent like "fair play," "tidy," "genuine," "well done," "crackin'," and "what's occurrin'?"

I am honestly starting to bore myself with the running entries so I'll try to keep this one short & sweet. Big surprise, I only ran twice last week. Again. I was set for a 65-minute run over the weekend but ran a five-mile race instead. It was in the low 40s and pouring down rain when I got up, but I knew my friends were going and I wasn't about to be the only one who stayed home. Miraculously, the rain slowed to a drizzly mist right as the race started. I ended up running the whole five miles with a friend, which was fun. I knew this route like the back of my hand, so it was nothing too adventurous or exciting, but it was great to have company and to notice on my trusty watch how we were speeding up a little bit pretty much each mile. (10:30, 10:30, 10:18, 10:17, 9:45). I feel good about my pace ... a little over 51 minutes wasn't anything record setting, and we came in very near the end of the pack, but I keep reminding myself that I'm getting faster, for me, and that's what counts. The only truly heinous part was soaking both feet in a very cold puddle about half-way through, but I toughed it out. I've never done a non-tri race without music, but iPods were outright forbidden, so I left it at home. (UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE. I'm just too much of a rule abider, I cannot help it.) It was strange to run without music, but I didn't mind it much since I was with a friend. It started pouring pretty much immediately after we finished, which put a damper on the post-race festivities, but overall, it was a good event. We milled around inside for a little while to visit, and I changed immediately after finishing into some smartwool socks and dry sneakers that I'd brought with me in the attempt to stave off the death cough that plagued me for several weeks after romping in the snow last year with wet feet, and so far, so good! This week, week 8, is the last with three runs ... it's 4 runs per week for the 10 weeks after this, starting with Christmas week, God help me. At least boot camp will be over! I've really enjoyed it, but I am tired, and I want to start sleeping past 5 a.m. more often than not.

It seriously rains every day around here lately. Everything is saturated. We are a moist, moist people.

What else? I finished Born to Run, recommended by Linda, and enjoyed it. I wish more of the book had focused on the Tarahumara because they were the part of the story that mostly interested me. I liked learning about some of the major characters in ultrarunning because they're quite a group, and all of the stuff about feet was interesting. Overall, while it isn't a perfect book, it's a pretty good read, and it definitely made me want to become a better runner. (I also liked this piece about running barefoot in Central Park. The whole barefoot running movement intrigues me, but I keep wondering, what about the skin on the bottom of your feet? Do you basically end up with hooves? No, thank you?)

I ordered calendars made from the beautiful photographs of my friends Jessamyn and romanlily, and they've both arrived. They're lovely, and I can't wait for 2010 so I can use them.

I went to my favorite local cafe three days in a row last week, which might be excessive. But if that many gingerbread au laits and peppermint mochas and pastries and good visits with good friends are wrong, I don't want to be right.

Dog update: The man I yelled at last week and his big dumb black dog were about to cross through my yard when I pulled in my driveway recently when coming home from work, so I just sat there with my car idling across the sidewalk staring at him so he'd see me and hopefully keep walking. He did. Yesterday morning, I happened to be in my room when I heard him telling his dog to "do his thing" in my yard again, so I banged on the window, waved, smiled, and yelled, "GOOD MORNING!" Once again he jumped out of his skin. He looked away and mumbled "Good morning" and hurried along. I mean, what is it going to take? Seriously? He's a little older than I first wagered, so maybe he's truly senile. Who in his right mind would take his dog back to a yard, clearly with no baggies in hand, where he's been spotted numerous times, been given the stank eye from both inside the house and the car, and even been asked rather vehemently to clean up after his dog? Encouraging his dog, "Do your thing"? Again? What is the world coming to? I can't even be mad anymore, it's too ridiculous.

Finally, design genius and overall nice Southern lady AB Chao (some of her work) stopped by yesterday with her cute husband and supercool daughter on their way home from winning a state football championship because they might as well be the Panthers I mean Lions. Basically, she told me how to live. As some of you know, she is good at this. It was a delight to see them all.

Now there is nothing left to do but finish up season 2 of Gavin and Stacey and company, my new best friends, and figure out some way to score the Christmas special and season 3 from across the pond. Luckily I have a mighty fine Irish friend who might be able to assist me in this endeavor. This show is really only about three things: family, friendship, and love. And it manages to be about them in a very hilarious way. And I love it very much. OH! And I started The Hunger Games, which I'm about a million years late in reading. And holy mother of heaven. It is so good! I can't put it down. You were right, everyone in the world.

1/2 Marathon Training: Week 7, Run 1

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 00:42:00 +0000

Today's 35-minute run was pretty good. My legs were a bit tired from lunging a lot in the hour previous, though, and I cannot lie ... I ran the first 2 miles at a 10-minute mile pace, and I was very winded by about 2.5 miles in. I slowed down enough, my legs feeling sluggish and heavy, that mile three was clocked at 11 minutes. I think maybe what I need to do is just slow down to 10:30 and keep it kind of even if I'm supposed to be running at a steady pace that day. (Which I was today.) Maybe I shouldn't be winded doing 10-minute miles, but I totally was, and sweat was raining down my face! The great news is that my shins did not hurt at all! New shoes FTW!

Part of the enjoyment of today's run was the weather. It was a decent morning ... still wet and muggy but at least not cold or dumping rain, which it has been lately. Everything is so humid that the knob on my backdoor is dripping wet from condensation and there are basically surging swimming pools of condensation all over my carport. The windows are all fogged, etc. The sun was actually shining, though, so that's amazing. It's weird to think it was 71 when I got up this morning at 4:55 and that it's supposed to get down to 36 tonight. Weather is such a roller coaster around these parts. I guess we just have to go with the flow.

So ... in short, my 3.36 miles came in with an average overall pace of 10:25-minute miles, which I feel okay about. The longer distances are coming, and I need to start mentally preparing for them.

Today's Best Running Song: Drunken Lullabies. Oh, how I love that song. (Thanks, mo!)

Running & misc.

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 14:47:00 +0000

Week six of running training consisted of only two runs. (Sigh.) But onward I go. The second run was meant to be a 5K race, but considering that it was dumping freezing precipitation, I opted to stay home. It would have been hardcore and all, but there's something to be said, I think, for staying well. My third (really second) was a sixty-minute run on the first day of decent weather around here in days & days. The sun was out, and it felt like a miracle. I bundled up but had removed my jacket and hat and gloves by the end. My pace was just under 11-minute miles on the average, and I made it 5.47 miles. Not as fast or far as I would have liked, but I honestly had to give myself a talking-to during the run. I kept feeling very bothered that I am not (and might not ever be) as fast as some of my running pals but I just tried to tell myself that I'm not competing with them and I'm only competing against myself to try to get better. Which I have. So I tried to take some pride in that instead of lamenting that I'm not super speedy. All in all, it was an utterly gorgeous day & an utterly gorgeous run. New shoe report: My shins felt surprisingly okay during and after the run, but for the first time, as soon as I slowed down to do my walking cool-down, my knees ached like crazy. Not sure it was the shoes or the three previous days of squatting and lunging like a lunatic at boot camp. They feel okay today, thankfully. I've never had knee problems and don't want to start now! Best Running Song: I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas, mostly because it made me think about this.

When I got home, I set about stringing up some Christmas lights, made difficult by the fact there were large piles of dog poop scattered about the front yard. I had a suspected culprit in mind as I've seen the same silver-haired man urging the same big black dog to "do his thing" in my yard not once but twice. The first time, I was too shocked to react. The second time, I heard him through the window, so I flung open the blinds and stared at him, meeting his eye, hoping that would discourage him from coming back. I was just telling my dad last night about this man, which of course thoroughly annoyed him in that protective dad ass-kicking kind of way. This morning, I woke up early but wasn't quite ready to leave the warm fuzzy cuddly cloud of bed, so I lay there finishing The Canning Season (lovely) and I heard him again! I peeked out slyly and saw him in my next-door neighbor's yard and as he made his way across her driveway to mine, standing smack in the middle of my yard in front of my window urging the dog to "do his thing," I snapped my blinds open, knocked loudly on the window, plastered a smile on my face, and shouted without really thinking, "Sir, can you please start cleaning up after your dog? I keep stepping in his poop! Thank you!" He jumped about a foot in the air, gave a little startled and apologetic wave, and dragged his dog away, looking horrified. I really did not want to be rude to an elder, but give me a break! I really wanted to throw my robe on and chase him down the street with my box of poop scooping bags and helpfully inform him that they're only $5 at Walmart, but it was cold and by then he was long gone. I feel strangely guilty for fussing at him, but I really tried to do it nicely, and those piles of poop are really big! What is so appealing about MY front yard? It's neat, trimmed, edged, mowed every week, and I had freshly strung Christmas lights shining in the morning sunlight! Does it really invite this same man over and over to not only allow but encourage his to dog poop in it? Of all the yards in all the world? And why in the actual middle of the actual yard and not the patch of grass between the street and sidewalk? Why all up in my grassy business, right by my freaking house? I just do not understand this.

Meanwhile, I've finished season one of Gavin and Stacey on DVD. It's a BBC comedy/drama, and season one is six half-hour episodes of hilarity and delight. I enjoyed it so much. I watched all the behind the scenes stuff, and as usual, they made me like something I already liked even more. So sweet, so naughty, so funny, so romantic, so real. I was eager to get season two, but it has no release date yet in the U.S. I am bummed about this and will console myself by trying to incorporate more Welsh slang into my vocabulary.

Giving thanks

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 00:09:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 00:40:00 +0000

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!

1/2 Marathon Training: Week 4, Run 3

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 20:05:00 +0000

Week 4 of training concluded with my first group training run. It was a group run in that we all started and finished at the same time, but we set off at our own paces, which made sense, obviously. I ran with a friend part of the way but was mostly off on my own. It was 55 degrees mid-morning but felt much colder under a dark and drizzly sky. The sun was nowhere in sight. I missed it. Even the pelicans looked cold, puffing out their backs and sitting mostly still on the water.

It was a 45-minute run, and I got 4.35 miles in (10:20-minute miles as my average pace). Nothing spectacular but decent for me. Definitely faster than I would have run it a month ago. Our training group leader jogged beside me for a bit to give me some form pointers ... relax my arms and shoulders more, lean into the run a bit, and mostly step off mid-foot and front of foot instead of heels.

Even though the weather was vile and gross, I have to say that I mostly enjoyed this run a lot. I got a better night's sleep last night than I have in weeks, which probably helped. I look forward to more group runs and starting to work on interval training to hopefully improve my pace. It feels good to have four weeks of training behind me, and I look forward to the next 14. (Good Lord. That's a long time.)

After the run, I came home and baked pumpkin muffins. I just ate one in my bathrobe straight out of the oven. It was perfect. In other news, Joseph Gordon-Levitt is very cute, and Dave Matthews does a surprisingly good Ozzy Osbourne.

Today's Best Running Song: Bend and Break by Keane. First delivered unto me via a mix CD by my friend Grace. One of my favorite running songs, for sure.

1/2 Marathon Training: Week 4, Run 2

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 00:02:00 +0000

The second run of week 4 was a 30-minute run. This is the most tired my legs have been since starting the training program. My calves were so sore that I honestly think they forgot how to work. I just could not get moving ... my pace was lousy and I was just lurching around like I was half-lame. In the work-out of the early morning, I could barely balance on some of the moves ... I was just wobbly. I know my legs were very fatigued, and maybe I shouldn't have tried to run at all, but I did.

It was in the low 40s again, but I was pretty warm in my layers. The water was extra beautiful today ... covered in mist that made everything a bit mysterious. All the different birds were out, which was as dazzling as ever. Even the pelicans, though, largely failed to buoy my spirits or my legs. It was just a struggle. I only made it 2.45 miles (12:15-minute mile average pace) ... I mean. Yeah. That is not great. But ... at least it's one more run under my belt.

Today's Best Running Song: Don't Know Why (You Stay) by The Essex Green. As noted last year, I first discovered this song via Sweet Juniper a few years ago, and my life has been all the better for it since. This song makes me feel like I could run forever. It might have been the only excellent thing about today's run. Good thing it's mighty excellent.

Random

noreply@blogger.com (eliza) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 00:09:00 +0000

So here are some random things I've been enjoying.

I came across this blog when looking for things about SYTYCD this summer, and it's quite enjoyable. The author, Joe, posted a link to a blog that I'd never seen before, and this was how I discovered the blog of Dave Holmes. You remember Dave Holmes, right? Remember years back when MTV held that new VJ contest, and the tall skinny guy with the crazy hair won, but the runner-up was really the best so he became a VJ, too? (I have memories of being, for some reason, very spellbound by all of the levels and rounds of this competition.)

Anyway, that's Dave Holmes. He always seemed like a likable and knowledgeable sort of person, but I lost track of him in the years since. Well, I am here to tell you that his blog is delightful and I've now gone through all of his archives and can report that he posts some of the best links I've ever seen and some witty-assed commentary and somehow this is just what I needed to find this week. He also just ran the NYC Marathon, which is also inspiring as I haul myself around on run after run and know there are many, many more runs ahead of me. Anyway ... there are too many excellent posts to highlight all of my favorites, but here are a few: this one (because it's nice) (and true), this one (with all due respect to my friend who grew up with him and with full disclosure that I think he's a good actor), this one (because it pointed me to a blog about things that are important), this one (because it made me cry), this one (because it made me laugh), this one (because loving "Hold On" is no joke, and I do!), this one (because that dog is very cute), and finally, this one (because it absolutely made my day, and I can't decide which is better -- the reactions of the people watching, or the boy's reaction when he realized people were watching. BEAUTIFUL.)

He has another blog wherein he's chronicling a year of reading books by other people about their years of doing something. Also delightful, natch.

I am not sure why this so totally hit the spot for me this week, but there you go.

Meanwhile, Melissa sent me the galley for Liar, and as she knew I would, I loved it. I could not put it down. Read this book. Avoid spoilers at all costs. It's really, really good. Meanwhile, I think that When You Reach Me did not live up to the hype for me. Mostly, it just made my head hurt. Explaining why would be a spoiler, so I won't explain. I recognize that it's a really good book, it just didn't end up moving me or blowing me away like I hoped it would. I read reviews like this and Melissa's review and think maybe I read it too fast and need to read it again. So I think I will.

And now if you will excuse me, I have to go put my feet up and prepare to blown away by Jacob and Russell and bored by all the rest!