Completed an 8 mile run yesterday. This is the largest amount of miles I have ever run at one time, and it was one of those Glory Runs where you finish strong and have an inkling of "I might just actually be able to do this!" Glory Runs are the things that keep you going. Because for every Glory Run, you have at least two or three runs where you're pretty sure that you're actually crying while you run, and that you may even be crying tears made of your own blood.
This means I have run a total of 50 miles in the month of August since the beginning of training. This also means I am way past due for a new pair of sneakers. I've been running in the same shoes for a shamefully long time (for a runner, anyway). Also, when I was changing my nail polish the other night, I noticed that half of one of the nails of my next-to-little toe on my right foot is purple. Ew. So, basically, now I have to wear polish at all times. Not that this is problematic. My feet are completely shredded anyway. I foresee an epic pedicure after October 15.
In other news, I went to Happy Hour with Sporty last night. Sporty and I worked together back in The Day (which, in this instance, consists of May 2007-February 2008) and we saw each other through some particularly difficult growing-up times. It was a bright moment to sit at the bar last night, sipping martinis and talking about what train wrecks we were four years ago and how much happier we are these days. And, of course, to discuss at length the Amanda Knox case (the murder of Meredith Kercher occurred when we were working together, and we followed the news trail through to the final sentencing), the Casey Anthony trial, Britney Spears's upcoming appearance at the VMA's (Really? REALLY?!), why Kate Middleton stopped eating, and other, pithier conversations tnot involving pop culture icons or the media. Suffice it to say, we can still both confidently eye one another up and say, "We have been through some THINGS. I'm glad to know you."
In other news, I am making a random, quick trip to New York tomorrow for a dinner in Brooklyn. I am psyched not only for said dinner and because I'll get to see New Kid; who is pure, unbridled awesome; but because my boyfriend splashed out on train tickets. I'm used to Greyhound which, although cheap and utterly convenient, can be rather cramped. We had a bad experience when we went to Philadelphia back in April: couldn't find seats together and somehow wound up on the stinkiest bus in the developed world. It was not a good experience.
In other news, 19 days until Key West. I've already booked a kayak tour, which I am beyond psyched about because the kayaks are CLEAR. I think I may have stated this already, but I'll just reiterate the awesomeness again: THE KAYAKS ARE CLEAR. I also ordered four books from Amazon. For a five-day trip. Optimism.
It had better not hurricane on my parade.
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Friday, August 19, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
The Conversation
Oh, Artscape.
Headed up for a few hours on Saturday, dropping out of the party every now and then to get some respite from the sun. And by "dropping out of the party," I mean "dropping into the bar/restaurant scene." Brewer's Art, City Cafe, Joss. A trifecta of Mt. Vernon perfection.
Honestly, though I know it pains thousands of hard-working artists to hear, the best part of Artscape has got to be the people. It is a coalition of every single archetype of character in Baltimore City, and I'd wager to throw in an "AND BEYOND!" there too. I spent the entire afternoon rubbernecking the attendees.
But, in what can only be described as 'freakish luck,' we happened upon a Puerto Rican gentleman who had been imbibing for the better part of the day (if not the better part of 2011, sounded like) who proceeded to explain to us why his (white and half-his-age) girlfriend (whom he loves with all his heart) tried to run him over with her car.
It was suggested without the slightest hint of braggadocio, without exaggeration, and just plain and straightforward: "My girlfriend, who I love with all my heart, tried to run me over with her car."
"Why?"
"She found a Russian in my shower."
This was most certainly a story we wanted to hear.
It turns out that said attempted vehicular manslaughter was the result of the girlfriend (whom he loves with all his heart) coming home and chancing upon a scenario that involved the makings of a romantic dinner and a girl (who was not, in fact, herself) taking a shower. Upon said discovery, the girlfriend (whom he loves with all his heart) stormed out of the apartment to the garage and attempted to peel away in a fit of (rightly attributed) anger, whereupon the gentleman (who was, at this point, being refused drinks by the clearly-perturbed bartender) inserted himself between the automobile and his girlfriend (whom he loves with all his heart)'s escape route and nearly found himself pancaked by the grief of the cheated-upon.
But why, we asked, was there a Russian girl in his shower?
Naturally, clearly, plainly, we did not understand the needs of this man. We could not conceive of the idea that he could love his girlfriend with all of his heart and still feel the need to stash away a Russian chick in his shower. And cook her dinner.
The two, he insisted, are separate issues.
Apparently it was common sense to him. Perhaps not to us. Or to his girlfriend (whom he loves with all his heart).
But even better than this story was the company he was keeping at the bar: a young, fete'd-out paaaaaarty boiiiii with the brightest blue color contacts I'd ever seen in my life, who was cruising the bartenders in between telling us stories of growing up in New York City proper ("Whatever, I have so shanked a bitch before and I'll do it again!") and his dog (who is, apparently a "ghetto Jack Russel terrier" with "his own wine tasting").
You cannot make these things up.
Oh, and there was some art and stuff. Culture and whatnot.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Post-Race Sky-Gazing
Ran a hard race this morning and took about two minutes off of my time from last year. There were 7 races in between, over the last year, so this is Improvement. Still not my best time (which was an unprecendeted 24:11; in the pouring rain; on a hilly course) but felt good, so I'll go with that. Hit up brunch afterwards, then randomly decided to cash in a coupon for a full-body massage, and now going in and out of naps by the pool. Most excellent day.
In other news, hooray for New York and progressive policy-making. Perhaps the rest of the nation will follow suit.
In other news, Bristol Palin's memoir apparently reveals details that smack of sexual assault by Levi. Too many wine coolers on a camping trip in the wilds of Alaska. While I would never encroach upon any woman's right to the safety of her own body, I have to wonder why this is coming out now, years later, in a book. If BP is such an advocate for abstinence, why would she shy away from the vitally important message that sexual assault is something to be reported? Her mentioning of the incident in a memoir, long after the fact, cheapens it and relegates the act to the unfortunate hush culture of similar assaults. And where the hell was Grizzly Mom Palin, advocating for her daughter's rights to due process in the aftermath of what BP describes as confusing and without her consent? Busy proselytizing about teen abstinence and family values, no doubt.
I'm not going to try and debate whether or not what Levi may or may not have done in a tent on a camping trip constitutes rape. But I take serious issue with BP bringing it up now. If that's indeed what happened, speak out against non-consensual sex and underage drinking, and the relationship between the two. To do anything else smacks of an attempt to reconstruct a public image in the light of Good Girl.
Granted, I have not read the book, so I could be missing something. But the review I read mentioned nothing about follow-up to the incident or advocating against date rape and for the voices of silenced girls to speak out against their attackers. And that, to me, is a greater issue than worrying if BP might have remained a virgin until marriage.
In other news, the BF returns (hopefully) later this week from a long work trip overseas. I hope he brings me a pony, as requested. I do not think this is asking too much. Miniature ponies, when babies, are even small enough to pack as carry-on, and I'm sure customs will have no problems processing its sheer cuteness.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Sumsumsumma Time and Blogging
Are we already upon the eve of Memorial Day weekend?
How did that happen?
Was it not just threatening to snow?
I think I lost a month or two in there due to complete and total crappiness of weather. I mean, really. April showers, ya, ok, no worries, but SERIOUSLY. I wondered if the latitude of Baltimore had shifted slightly to that of...Seattle.
Hand me a mojito and set me up on my rooftop deck with a book, I am READY.
So, in talking with Lee and various other peoples whose opinions I both respect and often desperately want to hear (because they are hilarious and on-point), it has been decided that I have become entirely too lackadaisical about blogging. Gone are the days of juicy gossip and dating stories, behind me are the endless nights of partying and living the young, high life of Baltimore.
OR ARE THEY?
Mostly I stopped writing about that stuff for three primary reasons:
1. I got a real job. Aside from issues of professionalism, I simply don't have time to be trawling about on the Interwebs all day.
2. I re-assessed the content of the blog and decided I was tired of being responsible for representation of my friends, family, and self. It's a lot to bear. If you get it right, you're golden. If you get it wrong, it's a lot of undoing and apologizing and backtracking. In the end, it just wasn't worth it to me to be constantly assessing what is and is not appropriate content for the Internet. It became too much of a hassle, too much of a burden on my sensitive soul.
3. Refer to #1- I started pursuing other things. Running, working, etc. Blogging kind of fell off of my plate when I decided to write only for myself.
But at Snap's wedding, a lot of stories about the blogging days of yore got tossed around. Those were some crazy years. A lot of them fun, most of them frazzled with that crazy electric energy of being young and directionless and la vie boheme and all of that crap.
My life, I'm sorry to say, is far less exciting now. Thank God. I don't think my sensibilities- or my liver- could handle that level of manic craziness anymore.
Not that I am entirely mellow in my old age of almost-29.
Not that my life still isn't crazy.
Just...different crazy.
So, once again, I'm tasked with finding a balance of writing outlet, drawing in you as an audience, and maintaining professionalism in my work life and enough privacy in my personal life. It's a juggling act, constantly, but maybe one I should pick up again.
I'm thinking that certain statutes of limitations may be up on certain stories, and it might be time to flesh out things from the past that are long gone and dead and buried, but still have immense comedic literary value were I to resurrect them.
Such as...the most awkward date I've ever been on.
I think I might start with that.
How did that happen?
Was it not just threatening to snow?
I think I lost a month or two in there due to complete and total crappiness of weather. I mean, really. April showers, ya, ok, no worries, but SERIOUSLY. I wondered if the latitude of Baltimore had shifted slightly to that of...Seattle.
Hand me a mojito and set me up on my rooftop deck with a book, I am READY.
So, in talking with Lee and various other peoples whose opinions I both respect and often desperately want to hear (because they are hilarious and on-point), it has been decided that I have become entirely too lackadaisical about blogging. Gone are the days of juicy gossip and dating stories, behind me are the endless nights of partying and living the young, high life of Baltimore.
OR ARE THEY?
Mostly I stopped writing about that stuff for three primary reasons:
1. I got a real job. Aside from issues of professionalism, I simply don't have time to be trawling about on the Interwebs all day.
2. I re-assessed the content of the blog and decided I was tired of being responsible for representation of my friends, family, and self. It's a lot to bear. If you get it right, you're golden. If you get it wrong, it's a lot of undoing and apologizing and backtracking. In the end, it just wasn't worth it to me to be constantly assessing what is and is not appropriate content for the Internet. It became too much of a hassle, too much of a burden on my sensitive soul.
3. Refer to #1- I started pursuing other things. Running, working, etc. Blogging kind of fell off of my plate when I decided to write only for myself.
But at Snap's wedding, a lot of stories about the blogging days of yore got tossed around. Those were some crazy years. A lot of them fun, most of them frazzled with that crazy electric energy of being young and directionless and la vie boheme and all of that crap.
My life, I'm sorry to say, is far less exciting now. Thank God. I don't think my sensibilities- or my liver- could handle that level of manic craziness anymore.
Not that I am entirely mellow in my old age of almost-29.
Not that my life still isn't crazy.
Just...different crazy.
So, once again, I'm tasked with finding a balance of writing outlet, drawing in you as an audience, and maintaining professionalism in my work life and enough privacy in my personal life. It's a juggling act, constantly, but maybe one I should pick up again.
I'm thinking that certain statutes of limitations may be up on certain stories, and it might be time to flesh out things from the past that are long gone and dead and buried, but still have immense comedic literary value were I to resurrect them.
Such as...the most awkward date I've ever been on.
I think I might start with that.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Torture
In the midst of winter I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. -Camus
I, for one, find it an exquisite sort of torture that I have a lovely slice of view of the outside world from my desk. I am the first to know when curious weather patterns are afoot (also because I am the office meteorologist and have NOAA.org bookmarked for instant access; even those with fancy phone apps forgo the ease of button-pushing and simply come to me for up-to-the-minute weather news, so common is my obsession with such things), I have learned to tell the time of day from the slant of light or non-light, and (because I work in Hampden) have witnessed many interesting...shall we say...debates unfolding amongst the locals.
But in mid-February when the weather suddenly and mysteriously rolls out a 65-degree day complete with bold sunshine, this view of the world is a double-edged sword.
I WANT TO GO OUTSIDE.
On a side note, I'm pretty sure I pissed off the four other lunchtime ATM-goers in line behind me by taking my sweet, sweet time depositing a check into the ATM for the sheer pleasure of feeling the sun on the back of my neck. Oops- I seem to have entered my PIN in wrong...again.
2 more months until kayaking season. Light at the end of the tunnel.
I, for one, find it an exquisite sort of torture that I have a lovely slice of view of the outside world from my desk. I am the first to know when curious weather patterns are afoot (also because I am the office meteorologist and have NOAA.org bookmarked for instant access; even those with fancy phone apps forgo the ease of button-pushing and simply come to me for up-to-the-minute weather news, so common is my obsession with such things), I have learned to tell the time of day from the slant of light or non-light, and (because I work in Hampden) have witnessed many interesting...shall we say...debates unfolding amongst the locals.
But in mid-February when the weather suddenly and mysteriously rolls out a 65-degree day complete with bold sunshine, this view of the world is a double-edged sword.
I WANT TO GO OUTSIDE.
On a side note, I'm pretty sure I pissed off the four other lunchtime ATM-goers in line behind me by taking my sweet, sweet time depositing a check into the ATM for the sheer pleasure of feeling the sun on the back of my neck. Oops- I seem to have entered my PIN in wrong...again.
2 more months until kayaking season. Light at the end of the tunnel.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Lovely.
Lovely weekend. No traffic. Beautiful weather.
Outlet shopping, sleeping in, crab picking, kayaking, bald-eagle sighting, champagne-drinking, ice cream eating, boardwalk ride-going, beach napping, drinking fire pit-side, dancing, bike riding at sunset, long running, sub-eating, book-reading, magazine-browsing, sunny, delightful weekend. All with good friends and excellent company.
A very nice way to end what I can only describe as one of the best summers of my adult life. A lot of things came together for me this summer, and a lot of new paths opened. But, during it all, I would say that I did a pretty damn good job of squeezing everything I could out of summatime this year.
Last night on my way back from the beach, I stopped at a coffee shop on my college's campus for some tea. It was about eight o'clock, and students were buying coffee and snacks, chairs circled up already for discussion groups and meetings to kick off the new semester. At first, when I walked in, I had the distinct feeling that I had mistakenly wandered into a high school. And then I realized that I am exactly ten years older than incoming freshmen this year. TEN YEARS. It felt so odd to be standing in such a familiar location, populated by complete strangers. Children, really. My old roommate wasn't behind the counter, and no one I had ever had a crush on was perusing the Internet at one of the computer stations. The art on the walls had been done by no one I know, and the furniture had been swapped out since I graduated in 2004. Still, as I walked across the dark parking lot to my car (dark at 8pm! Fall is most definitely on its way!), the lights buzzed familiarly, the leaves crunched the way they always did, and across the road the neon TCBY sign clicked just as steadily as it did all four years of my college education.
I feel as though fall is naturally a winding down, take-stock time before I settle in for winter. This fall, in particular, feels like a lot of things are culminating. After a frenetic and highly-charged summer full of everything I most love to do, fall is time for deep breaths and clean rooms and a general feeling of settling into this new life.
Not that it will feel like fall anytime soon. This 90-degree weather will most likely stick around for awhile. But that's ok. Plenty of time for the cold to set in.
Cheers, Summer. You rocked my world.
Outlet shopping, sleeping in, crab picking, kayaking, bald-eagle sighting, champagne-drinking, ice cream eating, boardwalk ride-going, beach napping, drinking fire pit-side, dancing, bike riding at sunset, long running, sub-eating, book-reading, magazine-browsing, sunny, delightful weekend. All with good friends and excellent company.
A very nice way to end what I can only describe as one of the best summers of my adult life. A lot of things came together for me this summer, and a lot of new paths opened. But, during it all, I would say that I did a pretty damn good job of squeezing everything I could out of summatime this year.
Last night on my way back from the beach, I stopped at a coffee shop on my college's campus for some tea. It was about eight o'clock, and students were buying coffee and snacks, chairs circled up already for discussion groups and meetings to kick off the new semester. At first, when I walked in, I had the distinct feeling that I had mistakenly wandered into a high school. And then I realized that I am exactly ten years older than incoming freshmen this year. TEN YEARS. It felt so odd to be standing in such a familiar location, populated by complete strangers. Children, really. My old roommate wasn't behind the counter, and no one I had ever had a crush on was perusing the Internet at one of the computer stations. The art on the walls had been done by no one I know, and the furniture had been swapped out since I graduated in 2004. Still, as I walked across the dark parking lot to my car (dark at 8pm! Fall is most definitely on its way!), the lights buzzed familiarly, the leaves crunched the way they always did, and across the road the neon TCBY sign clicked just as steadily as it did all four years of my college education.
I feel as though fall is naturally a winding down, take-stock time before I settle in for winter. This fall, in particular, feels like a lot of things are culminating. After a frenetic and highly-charged summer full of everything I most love to do, fall is time for deep breaths and clean rooms and a general feeling of settling into this new life.
Not that it will feel like fall anytime soon. This 90-degree weather will most likely stick around for awhile. But that's ok. Plenty of time for the cold to set in.
Cheers, Summer. You rocked my world.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Vay-Cay
Oh, Friday, you simply could not come fast enough for NG, here.
Hurricane be damned, I'm beach-bound this weekend! The break is more than appreciated. Since the Fourth, I've been in gogogogogogogogogogogogogogogogo mode between New Job and Old Jobs and Book Club and Trivia and friends and boys and all of those things that make you stop and go...."What happened to August? Was there an August in there? Have I slept at all since the beginning of July?"
Answer: Not really.
So I'm skipping town to unwind my head and body from these knots they've been in. It can rain all weekend for all I care: I have a Jane Green and a supply of sauv blanc from my new most favorite place on earth, and that should keep me occupied for awhile. I am hoping to get a kayaking trip in at some point this weekend. Do hurricanes cause riptides in backwater Eastern shore creeks? We shall find out.
In other news, Stephen Hawking is stirring up the science-religion debate with his suggestion that "the universe can and will create itself from nothing [...] It is not necessary to invoke God to light the blue touch paper [fuse] and set the universe going." Oof, Hawking. Surely you anticipated the world's reaction to that.
Those who never believed in God in the first place jump all over the argument as testament to their beliefs (because atheism is a belief structure that requires just as much faith as any other religion), and those who were on the fence might find the statement an easy "out." Those who did- and still do- are picking apart Hawking's wording.
"Hawking's god is a god-of-the-gaps used to plug present gaps in our scientific knowledge. Science provides us with a wonderful narrative as to how [existence] may happen, but theology addresses the meaning of the narrative,"commented Denis Alexander, director of The Faraday Institute for Science and Religion.
That's the real missing gap, isn't it? Meaning, I mean. We can postulate away the hand of some God in creation, we can find a thousand theorems to prove that there is nothing out in the universe but endless dark matter and cosmic dust, but the fact remains that we will derive no joy or feel for existence from solving complex math riddles. I agree with Alexander's assessment that Hawking is discussing another god, a sort of random factor that scientists once attributed to some divine intervention. But Hawking can't explain away the existence of faith, and I don't think he's trying to. In the search for the spark of existence, while science can measure and attest, there's no logical formula for meaning, thought, beauty, art, and all of the things that conjoin to form our human assessment of life via spirituality. This God is a separate God-- and if you are monotheistic the only God--and Hawking's statement that God's hand in creation is unnecessary does nothing to devalue the ultimate poetry. If you believe, that is.
People will undoubtedly line up on all sides of this debate to debunk, refute, support, cry out, uplift, embrace, or even completely ignore Hawking's new work. At the end of the day, however, it comes down to a question of faith.
On that note....tying up loose ends here and then packing up the car to head to the shore! Peace out, Glitteratis, and enjoy the holiday weekend.
Hurricane be damned, I'm beach-bound this weekend! The break is more than appreciated. Since the Fourth, I've been in gogogogogogogogogogogogogogogogo mode between New Job and Old Jobs and Book Club and Trivia and friends and boys and all of those things that make you stop and go...."What happened to August? Was there an August in there? Have I slept at all since the beginning of July?"
Answer: Not really.
So I'm skipping town to unwind my head and body from these knots they've been in. It can rain all weekend for all I care: I have a Jane Green and a supply of sauv blanc from my new most favorite place on earth, and that should keep me occupied for awhile. I am hoping to get a kayaking trip in at some point this weekend. Do hurricanes cause riptides in backwater Eastern shore creeks? We shall find out.
In other news, Stephen Hawking is stirring up the science-religion debate with his suggestion that "the universe can and will create itself from nothing [...] It is not necessary to invoke God to light the blue touch paper [fuse] and set the universe going." Oof, Hawking. Surely you anticipated the world's reaction to that.
Those who never believed in God in the first place jump all over the argument as testament to their beliefs (because atheism is a belief structure that requires just as much faith as any other religion), and those who were on the fence might find the statement an easy "out." Those who did- and still do- are picking apart Hawking's wording.
"Hawking's god is a god-of-the-gaps used to plug present gaps in our scientific knowledge. Science provides us with a wonderful narrative as to how [existence] may happen, but theology addresses the meaning of the narrative,"commented Denis Alexander, director of The Faraday Institute for Science and Religion.
That's the real missing gap, isn't it? Meaning, I mean. We can postulate away the hand of some God in creation, we can find a thousand theorems to prove that there is nothing out in the universe but endless dark matter and cosmic dust, but the fact remains that we will derive no joy or feel for existence from solving complex math riddles. I agree with Alexander's assessment that Hawking is discussing another god, a sort of random factor that scientists once attributed to some divine intervention. But Hawking can't explain away the existence of faith, and I don't think he's trying to. In the search for the spark of existence, while science can measure and attest, there's no logical formula for meaning, thought, beauty, art, and all of the things that conjoin to form our human assessment of life via spirituality. This God is a separate God-- and if you are monotheistic the only God--and Hawking's statement that God's hand in creation is unnecessary does nothing to devalue the ultimate poetry. If you believe, that is.
People will undoubtedly line up on all sides of this debate to debunk, refute, support, cry out, uplift, embrace, or even completely ignore Hawking's new work. At the end of the day, however, it comes down to a question of faith.
On that note....tying up loose ends here and then packing up the car to head to the shore! Peace out, Glitteratis, and enjoy the holiday weekend.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Put Your Efforts Elsewhere
I got sucked into HBO's documentary "12th & Delaware" about a community in south Florida where an abortion clinic and a "Pregnancy Care Center" are located- literally- across the street from one another. The anti-choice (I dislike the term "pro-life" because it is misleading) "Pregnancy Care Center" is a faith-based outfit that, essentially, spends its resources trying to convince girls not to have abortions.
From what I've seen, they terrorize these girls. They give them false information, such as telling them they're only 7.5 weeks along when they're 10 weeks, thus tricking them into thinking they have more time to make a decision and then find out it's too late. They show them gruesome videos of abortions gone wrong. They give them false information and bogus stats, linking breast cancer and a future inability to conceive to abortions. They offer them gifts, money, and support. Girls apparently often mistake the Care Center for the abortion facility, and the staff does little to dispel this until the girls find themselves embroiled in a conversation intended to talk them out of having an abortion.
The worst offense, in my opinion, is the protesting at the abortion clinic. They try to stop girls going in, screaming horrible things at them or trying to sweetly coerce them away from the clinic with promises of money and help. They have signs, slogans, chants, and humiliating tactics.
And the thing is...I just don't get it. They claim to be advocating for the rights of unborn children, but it seems to me that if they feel so strongly about the value of human life wouldn't their efforts be far better spent in helping the children that are already here? Instead of protesting outside of an abortion clinic, why aren't they advocating for the welfare of children who are homeless, impoverished, abused, raised in drug-addicted households and facing a lifetime of limited choices and scarce resources? Why aren't these people offering money and support to those women who have already had babies and are desperately trying to take care of them?
I can't see the logic here, but then I suppose I don't see the theoretical logic of their whole argument either. I cannot understand the practice of manipulating and attempting to control women or altering the choices they make about their bodies. Even worse, this "Care Center" proffers staff in the delicate position of appearing to be medical professionals (because anyone in a lab coat with a clipboard has a great deal of psychological control in a clinical situation) and throwing "statistics" at women and girls who are scared, confused, and alone. This, to me, is a kind of terrorizing subject to gross misconduct.
I respect peoples' rights to their personal opinions. I understand and respect the school of thought surrounding a woman's right to remain anti-choice. But I cannot and will not respect anyone who attempts to utilize their own personal opinions to interfere with someone else's choices.
And, again, I point out that their time and resources would be so much better appreciated on this earth if they concentrated on advocating for the well-being of children already born.
Whatever side of the fence you're on, it's a fascinating documentary and worth watching.
Also on my radar: Spike Lee is coming out with a new documentary about the oil spill as follow up to his "When the Levees Broke" and focusing, again, on the beating New Orleans is taking. Again. Five years post-Katrina, this city is facing another need for a phoenix-like rebirth. "If God Is Willing" is another NOLA expose, but it also points fingers at the oil industry as well.
“Oil is a bigger industry than slavery was in this country,” Lee said. “A whole lot of people making money.” “If God Is Willing” highlights the control BP has on the region and why it’s a difficult balance for citizens who must rely on the billion-dollar oil empire for work yet are disgusted by its mishandling of this ordeal.
And, of course, there's also the Comedy Central "Roast of David Hasselhoff" tonight. TV watching is looking quite good these days. I start training for the marathon relay in October this week so my crazy party summer will be transitioning to a quieter, hopefully more-focused fall. After all of this fun-having, nights in on the couch aren't looking so bad.
From what I've seen, they terrorize these girls. They give them false information, such as telling them they're only 7.5 weeks along when they're 10 weeks, thus tricking them into thinking they have more time to make a decision and then find out it's too late. They show them gruesome videos of abortions gone wrong. They give them false information and bogus stats, linking breast cancer and a future inability to conceive to abortions. They offer them gifts, money, and support. Girls apparently often mistake the Care Center for the abortion facility, and the staff does little to dispel this until the girls find themselves embroiled in a conversation intended to talk them out of having an abortion.
The worst offense, in my opinion, is the protesting at the abortion clinic. They try to stop girls going in, screaming horrible things at them or trying to sweetly coerce them away from the clinic with promises of money and help. They have signs, slogans, chants, and humiliating tactics.
And the thing is...I just don't get it. They claim to be advocating for the rights of unborn children, but it seems to me that if they feel so strongly about the value of human life wouldn't their efforts be far better spent in helping the children that are already here? Instead of protesting outside of an abortion clinic, why aren't they advocating for the welfare of children who are homeless, impoverished, abused, raised in drug-addicted households and facing a lifetime of limited choices and scarce resources? Why aren't these people offering money and support to those women who have already had babies and are desperately trying to take care of them?
I can't see the logic here, but then I suppose I don't see the theoretical logic of their whole argument either. I cannot understand the practice of manipulating and attempting to control women or altering the choices they make about their bodies. Even worse, this "Care Center" proffers staff in the delicate position of appearing to be medical professionals (because anyone in a lab coat with a clipboard has a great deal of psychological control in a clinical situation) and throwing "statistics" at women and girls who are scared, confused, and alone. This, to me, is a kind of terrorizing subject to gross misconduct.
I respect peoples' rights to their personal opinions. I understand and respect the school of thought surrounding a woman's right to remain anti-choice. But I cannot and will not respect anyone who attempts to utilize their own personal opinions to interfere with someone else's choices.
And, again, I point out that their time and resources would be so much better appreciated on this earth if they concentrated on advocating for the well-being of children already born.
Whatever side of the fence you're on, it's a fascinating documentary and worth watching.
Also on my radar: Spike Lee is coming out with a new documentary about the oil spill as follow up to his "When the Levees Broke" and focusing, again, on the beating New Orleans is taking. Again. Five years post-Katrina, this city is facing another need for a phoenix-like rebirth. "If God Is Willing" is another NOLA expose, but it also points fingers at the oil industry as well.
“Oil is a bigger industry than slavery was in this country,” Lee said. “A whole lot of people making money.” “If God Is Willing” highlights the control BP has on the region and why it’s a difficult balance for citizens who must rely on the billion-dollar oil empire for work yet are disgusted by its mishandling of this ordeal.
And, of course, there's also the Comedy Central "Roast of David Hasselhoff" tonight. TV watching is looking quite good these days. I start training for the marathon relay in October this week so my crazy party summer will be transitioning to a quieter, hopefully more-focused fall. After all of this fun-having, nights in on the couch aren't looking so bad.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Not That You Should Compare Your Life To Mine....
....but Glitterati has been having wayyyyyyyyyyy too much fun as of late.
There are times when I wish I could still be all gossssssssssipy boooooozehound on this site and dish on all the delicious details, but.....those days are gone.
Rest assured, however, that fun is being had. Ohhhhh is it ever.
I think in Glitterati Land, the rate of funness is directly proportional to the usage of excess letters in normal words.
Fuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
There are times when I wish I could still be all gossssssssssipy boooooozehound on this site and dish on all the delicious details, but.....those days are gone.
Rest assured, however, that fun is being had. Ohhhhh is it ever.
I think in Glitterati Land, the rate of funness is directly proportional to the usage of excess letters in normal words.
Fuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Savoring the Moment: Quandries of Shark Week
Talk about savoring moments.
I had a great night last night- a "family dinner" of sorts with my favorite guy friends. I can't remember the last time all of us hung out together, and it was especially nice to actually sit at a table like civilized people.
Kid Brother made the most fantastic ribs. All he would tell me is that they took six hours to cook and involved cans of chipolte peppers. (My spell checker just wanted to turn "chipolte" into "Chippewa" which made me think of "Addams Family II: Family Values" for some reason. You know....the summer camp? I digress.) Lee made delicious rice and beans, and I contributed a green salad. Because I am, apparently, the mom of the group. Josh, who had to come a bit late, brought the witty conversation.
Anyway...it was a lovely evening with much to savor. I spend so much of my time these days with girls, it was nice to be around a bunch of guys for a change.
After dinner, as we all sat around with full bellies nursing beer and wine, there was a moment of clamoring excitement when Kid Brother reminded us that it is, in fact, Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. It was then that I was introduced to "Air Shark," and not only was I introduced to the concept of "Air Shark," I was getting the full experience because it was actually "Air Shark II: EVEN HIGHER."
I kid you not.
First of all, because my guy friends have excellent taste, I'd like to point out that we were listening to Band of Horses at the time. The TV was on mute. And there is something paradoxically hilarious about watching "Air Shark II: EVEN HIGHER" with Band of Horses as the soundtrack. Even funnier: after BOH, Lee's roommate put on Ray Lamontagne. Also paradoxically funny.
But I digress again: let us discuss the concept of "Air Shark." A miniature seal is fashioned out of foam and painted to look incredibly life-like, then dragged behind a power boat on a piece of fishing line that looks as though it wouldn't hold up through a strenuous flossing of teeth. Cameras are poised at the stern of the boat dragging it, and also positioned under the boat for the extra-special UNDERWATER VIEW. The crew then chums the water with bloody fish bits, and waits.
Sooner or later, a shark roughly the size of a church bus comes leaping out of the water, jaws out, coming after this poor helpless foam seal. It is not pretty.
But it is, as the chorus of exclamations in Lee's living room ascertained, AWESOME.
Being the only female, I naturally had to question the validity of such an experiment beyond it's "AWESOME"- factor. What's the point of this endeavour? To show how sharks can do little else besides churn ominously through sea water and tear crap apart? How is this encouraging eco-knowledge? By intimidating us into respecting a shark's hunting prowess enough to want to save them? Sure, they're impressive. Sure, they're huge and a vital part of the eco-system. But to videotape them leaping twenty feet out of the water and ripping apart a foam seal (that is just WAY TOO LIFELIKE for my sensibilities) doesn't seem a particularly productive form of study.
I'M JUST SAYING.
Still...gotta respect the hunting master. It's a pretty epic feat of nature to watch these things jump out of the water like that. It just seems a little....the phrase "baiting sport" comes to mind. They get the sharks all riled up, film it, and then what? Toss the dolly grip overboard to placate the angry mob? Throw some baby seals and watch the action?
Anyway.
It was awesome to see my friends, awesome to sit and eat delicious ribs and talk about current events and, yes, gossip (because even guys like to partake) and we ended the entire evening with some karaoke which is always the icing on the proverbial Wednesday night cake. My urban family is everything to me, and spending quality time with them is very far up there on the list of things that make me oh-so-very-happy.
And, I'll totally admit it: "Air Shark II: EVEN HIGHER" was pretty badass. I totally recommend it with a side of Ray Lamontagne, too. And some hilarious commentary from brilliant friends.
I had a great night last night- a "family dinner" of sorts with my favorite guy friends. I can't remember the last time all of us hung out together, and it was especially nice to actually sit at a table like civilized people.
Kid Brother made the most fantastic ribs. All he would tell me is that they took six hours to cook and involved cans of chipolte peppers. (My spell checker just wanted to turn "chipolte" into "Chippewa" which made me think of "Addams Family II: Family Values" for some reason. You know....the summer camp? I digress.) Lee made delicious rice and beans, and I contributed a green salad. Because I am, apparently, the mom of the group. Josh, who had to come a bit late, brought the witty conversation.
Anyway...it was a lovely evening with much to savor. I spend so much of my time these days with girls, it was nice to be around a bunch of guys for a change.
After dinner, as we all sat around with full bellies nursing beer and wine, there was a moment of clamoring excitement when Kid Brother reminded us that it is, in fact, Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. It was then that I was introduced to "Air Shark," and not only was I introduced to the concept of "Air Shark," I was getting the full experience because it was actually "Air Shark II: EVEN HIGHER."
I kid you not.
First of all, because my guy friends have excellent taste, I'd like to point out that we were listening to Band of Horses at the time. The TV was on mute. And there is something paradoxically hilarious about watching "Air Shark II: EVEN HIGHER" with Band of Horses as the soundtrack. Even funnier: after BOH, Lee's roommate put on Ray Lamontagne. Also paradoxically funny.
But I digress again: let us discuss the concept of "Air Shark." A miniature seal is fashioned out of foam and painted to look incredibly life-like, then dragged behind a power boat on a piece of fishing line that looks as though it wouldn't hold up through a strenuous flossing of teeth. Cameras are poised at the stern of the boat dragging it, and also positioned under the boat for the extra-special UNDERWATER VIEW. The crew then chums the water with bloody fish bits, and waits.
Sooner or later, a shark roughly the size of a church bus comes leaping out of the water, jaws out, coming after this poor helpless foam seal. It is not pretty.
But it is, as the chorus of exclamations in Lee's living room ascertained, AWESOME.
Being the only female, I naturally had to question the validity of such an experiment beyond it's "AWESOME"- factor. What's the point of this endeavour? To show how sharks can do little else besides churn ominously through sea water and tear crap apart? How is this encouraging eco-knowledge? By intimidating us into respecting a shark's hunting prowess enough to want to save them? Sure, they're impressive. Sure, they're huge and a vital part of the eco-system. But to videotape them leaping twenty feet out of the water and ripping apart a foam seal (that is just WAY TOO LIFELIKE for my sensibilities) doesn't seem a particularly productive form of study.
I'M JUST SAYING.
Still...gotta respect the hunting master. It's a pretty epic feat of nature to watch these things jump out of the water like that. It just seems a little....the phrase "baiting sport" comes to mind. They get the sharks all riled up, film it, and then what? Toss the dolly grip overboard to placate the angry mob? Throw some baby seals and watch the action?
Anyway.
It was awesome to see my friends, awesome to sit and eat delicious ribs and talk about current events and, yes, gossip (because even guys like to partake) and we ended the entire evening with some karaoke which is always the icing on the proverbial Wednesday night cake. My urban family is everything to me, and spending quality time with them is very far up there on the list of things that make me oh-so-very-happy.
And, I'll totally admit it: "Air Shark II: EVEN HIGHER" was pretty badass. I totally recommend it with a side of Ray Lamontagne, too. And some hilarious commentary from brilliant friends.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Witchcraft
Last night found me on the couch with an ice pack on my shin and a warm compress on my face.
I am attempting to fight two different wars on two entirely different fronts: shin splints and ANOTHER sinus infection.
Because I can't stand the thought of subjecting myself to another round of antibiotics, I've decided to go holistic this time. Which means chugging a glass of water with 2 TBS of apple cider vinegar 3x per day (gag), eating boat-loads of garlic, inhaling a bucket of steam every half hour or so, warm compresses, hot showers with the water running directly onto my face, and pretty much any other method of breaking up this congestion and getting the crap out of my head. Believe it or not, all of these things work.
The trouble is, as always, "user error." These methods do work, and in ways far more conducive to overall healing then blasting your poor body with a Z-pack (which is like blasting an ant hill with a hand grenade), but they are time-consuming, sometimes expensive, and require diligence. I spent the greater part of last night transitioning between icing my shin on the couch (20 minutes on, 20 minutes off) and sticking my face in a pan of steaming water.
I also spent last night out-geeking myself. I freaking love crossword puzzles and documentaries. So what's not to love about a documentary ABOUT crossword puzzles? (One of the things I love the most about being single is the ability to Netflix whatever I choose without comment.)
So, icing and steaming to keep this body from falling apart. Have to take a couple of days off of running as well. The shin splint in my right leg is getting out of hand, and I'd rather take a couple days off now then an entire month later.
In other news: Artscape tonight! And how convenient that the Charm City Drinkulator--I mean Circulator--has a stop a couple blocks from my house? Artscape is fantastic. An incredibly eclectic mix of Baltimore's best, amazing artists and live performances (Cold War Kids!), beer gardens and block parties and all of the things that make Baltimore street festivals fun and interesting.
In the mean time: steaming and icing. Have to be in tip-top shape for summer daytime drinking-out-of-doors.
I am attempting to fight two different wars on two entirely different fronts: shin splints and ANOTHER sinus infection.
Because I can't stand the thought of subjecting myself to another round of antibiotics, I've decided to go holistic this time. Which means chugging a glass of water with 2 TBS of apple cider vinegar 3x per day (gag), eating boat-loads of garlic, inhaling a bucket of steam every half hour or so, warm compresses, hot showers with the water running directly onto my face, and pretty much any other method of breaking up this congestion and getting the crap out of my head. Believe it or not, all of these things work.
The trouble is, as always, "user error." These methods do work, and in ways far more conducive to overall healing then blasting your poor body with a Z-pack (which is like blasting an ant hill with a hand grenade), but they are time-consuming, sometimes expensive, and require diligence. I spent the greater part of last night transitioning between icing my shin on the couch (20 minutes on, 20 minutes off) and sticking my face in a pan of steaming water.
I also spent last night out-geeking myself. I freaking love crossword puzzles and documentaries. So what's not to love about a documentary ABOUT crossword puzzles? (One of the things I love the most about being single is the ability to Netflix whatever I choose without comment.)
So, icing and steaming to keep this body from falling apart. Have to take a couple of days off of running as well. The shin splint in my right leg is getting out of hand, and I'd rather take a couple days off now then an entire month later.
In other news: Artscape tonight! And how convenient that the Charm City Drinkulator--I mean Circulator--has a stop a couple blocks from my house? Artscape is fantastic. An incredibly eclectic mix of Baltimore's best, amazing artists and live performances (Cold War Kids!), beer gardens and block parties and all of the things that make Baltimore street festivals fun and interesting.
In the mean time: steaming and icing. Have to be in tip-top shape for summer daytime drinking-out-of-doors.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
This Is Good
LINDSAY'S LAST-MINUTE SIDE DISH
(All measurements approximate. Very approximate. In fact, mostly made up. I just threw crap in Whack's Magic Bullet thingy and pureed the hell out of it. Delicious.)
2 TBS olive oil
handful fresh cilantro
2 TBS pine nuts
1 tsp crushed red pepper
1/2 lime
1/2 lemon
pinch kosher salt
couple'a shakes a' black pepper
lots and lots of garlic, finely diced
tiny dash basil-oregano vinegar
Throw all into some sort of food processor thing, blend, taste, add more of whatever is lacking.
Add:
whole wheat pasta (I like the thin spaghetti) cooked, let sit to room temp so it won't cook the tomatoes
bunch of cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
Scrape sauce out of food processor thing, mix with whole wheat pasta and tomatoes. Chill. Serve.
Call me a Philistine, but tastes pretty damn good with some Bud Lite Lime. I'm just saying.
(All measurements approximate. Very approximate. In fact, mostly made up. I just threw crap in Whack's Magic Bullet thingy and pureed the hell out of it. Delicious.)
2 TBS olive oil
handful fresh cilantro
2 TBS pine nuts
1 tsp crushed red pepper
1/2 lime
1/2 lemon
pinch kosher salt
couple'a shakes a' black pepper
lots and lots of garlic, finely diced
tiny dash basil-oregano vinegar
Throw all into some sort of food processor thing, blend, taste, add more of whatever is lacking.
Add:
whole wheat pasta (I like the thin spaghetti) cooked, let sit to room temp so it won't cook the tomatoes
bunch of cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
Scrape sauce out of food processor thing, mix with whole wheat pasta and tomatoes. Chill. Serve.
Call me a Philistine, but tastes pretty damn good with some Bud Lite Lime. I'm just saying.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Sexy Spring
"You know what's almost here?" Jaunt said to me last Friday night. We were in our natural habitat (read: in a bar, drinks in hand), recovering from a very exciting moment where we energetically "cheersed" one another with such velocity that I cracked her pint glass. These things happen.
"What?" I asked, thinking "End of the school year" (as Jaunt is a teacher) or "birthday season" (as we have a lot of birthdays, hers and mine included, coming up.)
"Sexy Spring!" she squealed.
Oh, Sexy Spring. How we've missed you. Bare feet and swishy skirts, and mojitos made with mint from the backyard. Sitting on the patio in the evenings with books in hand, spicy food on plates, and white wines. I've already decided that my wine of choice this summer will be a pinot grigio. I spent all of last summer lapping up Albarinos and sauvignon blancs, but I recently felt my palate shift again and I'm craving something with a little more body.
Spring is my most favorite time of year. Things get done in the spring. I am at my best in the spring.
Despite the fact that the local meteorologists have warned of impending Days Upon Days of Rain, it's a beautiful morning and I can feel spring edging up through the scant piles of snow that are still desperately trying to melt.
And, in exciting news, Book Club now has a website thanks to our brilliant Joel. It's absolutely beautiful, and will at some point display all of the books we've read as we come upon our three-year anniversary this summer. So you can all see what we're reading, and Joel smartly included links to purchase the books on Amazon, because you should.
Also, a friend of mine sent me this link of ultimate multi-tasking. I've been searching for a way to combine working out with artistic creativity and, naturally, drinking. Search no more.
I'm slowly but surely getting my life together and ready to leave on Monday for New Orleans. The anxiety is slowly waning and excitement is beginning to edge in.
Stay tuned, Glitteratis. Sexy Spring is in the air, and I couldn't be happier.
"What?" I asked, thinking "End of the school year" (as Jaunt is a teacher) or "birthday season" (as we have a lot of birthdays, hers and mine included, coming up.)
"Sexy Spring!" she squealed.
Oh, Sexy Spring. How we've missed you. Bare feet and swishy skirts, and mojitos made with mint from the backyard. Sitting on the patio in the evenings with books in hand, spicy food on plates, and white wines. I've already decided that my wine of choice this summer will be a pinot grigio. I spent all of last summer lapping up Albarinos and sauvignon blancs, but I recently felt my palate shift again and I'm craving something with a little more body.
Spring is my most favorite time of year. Things get done in the spring. I am at my best in the spring.
Despite the fact that the local meteorologists have warned of impending Days Upon Days of Rain, it's a beautiful morning and I can feel spring edging up through the scant piles of snow that are still desperately trying to melt.
And, in exciting news, Book Club now has a website thanks to our brilliant Joel. It's absolutely beautiful, and will at some point display all of the books we've read as we come upon our three-year anniversary this summer. So you can all see what we're reading, and Joel smartly included links to purchase the books on Amazon, because you should.
Also, a friend of mine sent me this link of ultimate multi-tasking. I've been searching for a way to combine working out with artistic creativity and, naturally, drinking. Search no more.
I'm slowly but surely getting my life together and ready to leave on Monday for New Orleans. The anxiety is slowly waning and excitement is beginning to edge in.
Stay tuned, Glitteratis. Sexy Spring is in the air, and I couldn't be happier.
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