I'm not an easy person to surprise. While I do have a tendency to be gullible, my sense that "something" is going on makes it difficult to surprise me with anything. I'm not saying I have a sixth sense, but I figure things out. It's my personality to always want to know what's going on (we can analyze that later) and that, coupled with being incredibly observant and slightly intuitive, the wool is not easily pulled over my eyes. (wool is so scratchy, who would want that over their eyes anyway?)
But today, I stand corrected, because yesterday I got what is perhaps the surprise of my life, and an amazing and timely surprise it was!
It was like any other Sunday since Nicole and I moved down here... we got up, had breakfast and Nicole went to the school to study for a few hours (she had a study group from 10 to noon...or so I thought!) while I went outside to play in the dirt and dig up rocks (a rather involved project that will undoubtedly show up in this blog, oy) and I had a date to skype with Angie at 11:30. Dusting off my dirty shorts, I head inside around 11:25 to set up the computer and I hear the door downstairs. Thinking "Nicole's home early, that's strange," I walk to the upstairs landing to greet her as she's coming up the stairs when I notice that she's not alone. My first instinct is to back away - I'm not dressed for company! Dirty and sweaty wearing boardshorts. a t-shirt, and a bucket hat, I'm slightly annoyed that she brought someone home unannounced!
Then it was as if my eyes were looking through a camera, zooming in and out, trying to adjust to see if what I was seeing was actually the case - holy guacamole, that's Angie walking up my stairs!!!! Nicole and Angie both walk up the stairs with sh*t eating grins on their face, like they just got away with something huge and in my surprise, I just laugh as the tears well up in my eyes. It was just two days prior that I asked Nicole what she thought about me flying Angie down here for a visit because it would do us both a world of good. At the time Nicole calmly said she had something planned for us the weekend I wanted to fly Angie out, but she could see if she could move it around and that she'd let me know on Sunday. Determined to get out of her what she was planning for the random October weekend, I fired questions at her from every angle, but she wouldn't budge. "Sunday," she said. "I'll let you know on Sunday."
Never in a million years did I think that was why I would find out on Sunday!
It was exactly what I needed and the best surprise I could have ever imagined. And I gotta say, I'm impressed, ladies. Well done. :-) I love you both!
September 21, 2009
September 19, 2009
ARRRRRRR
September 19th is national talk like a pirate day. Huh?
Apparently two guys from Oregon were bored back in the 90s and thought it would be grand to have a day where everyone spoke pirate so they shared their holiday with humor columnist Dave Barry, he promoted it, and here we are, more than a decade later, calling each other "matey" and telling everyone to walk the plank.
What? You didn't know it was talk like a pirate day? Get with the times, man. Urban Dictionary's word of the day is "pirate bath." (Where, in lieu of a shower, you take the washcloth and some soap and stand at the sink to wash the, uh, necessary parts.) Even Facebook is in on it, offering users the option to switch to the language "English (pirate)" on their profiles for the day. You can even visit www.talklikeapirate.com to brush up on your pirate vocab and hear a raucous rendition of the official talk like a pirate day song that boasts:
So hoist up the mainsails and shut down your brain cells,
They only would get in the way,
Avast there, me hearty, we're havin' a party,
It's "Talk Like A Pirate" Day!
But why September 19th? They selected September 19, simply because one the guys had recently divorced and it was his ex-wife's birthday. He said "the date was stuck in my head, and I wasn't going to do anything with it anymore."
And that children, is how a holiday is made.
Apparently two guys from Oregon were bored back in the 90s and thought it would be grand to have a day where everyone spoke pirate so they shared their holiday with humor columnist Dave Barry, he promoted it, and here we are, more than a decade later, calling each other "matey" and telling everyone to walk the plank.
What? You didn't know it was talk like a pirate day? Get with the times, man. Urban Dictionary's word of the day is "pirate bath." (Where, in lieu of a shower, you take the washcloth and some soap and stand at the sink to wash the, uh, necessary parts.) Even Facebook is in on it, offering users the option to switch to the language "English (pirate)" on their profiles for the day. You can even visit www.talklikeapirate.com to brush up on your pirate vocab and hear a raucous rendition of the official talk like a pirate day song that boasts:
So hoist up the mainsails and shut down your brain cells,
They only would get in the way,
Avast there, me hearty, we're havin' a party,
It's "Talk Like A Pirate" Day!
But why September 19th? They selected September 19, simply because one the guys had recently divorced and it was his ex-wife's birthday. He said "the date was stuck in my head, and I wasn't going to do anything with it anymore."
And that children, is how a holiday is made.
September 17, 2009
Change Order
The I Ching says "When the way comes to an end, then change. Having changed, you pass through."
I'm not afraid of change. I mean, look at my life - clearly I'm no stranger to it. I think change is exciting. Change makes us grow. Change leads to opportunities and challenges and living. Yet, there are times, like now, during which I want nothing more to than to go back to the familiar.
I think my "way" is coming to an end and I'm facing changes that I thought I was prepared and ready for, but am finding out rapidly that I am not. I have everything I've ever wanted - a great job, a house with a huge yard, a loving partner, a few close friends I would walk to the ends of the earth for, two cats, a bike and the ability to ride it, and family that I adore. Yet, I have days where I feel as if I'm so profoundly alone and have no bearing on this world and those are the days during which I know that I am in the midst of a change...waiting to pass through...
But if you know me at all, you know that I'm not a patient person. Sure, I may seem patient at times, but I'm mostly just being polite. I like efficiency and I like instant gratification. This is where I get into trouble when it comes to the subject of change. Yes, change! I'm all for it! As long as it's NOW. I'm at the drive through window for change. Have a seat and order change? No, that won't do.
And so it is that I'm having a hard time being patient about the changes currently taking place (or not yet taking place, ugh!) in my life. I'm not sure what I thought it would be like. I guess I thought I would hit the ground running. New instant life, coming right up! WITH a side of social life and a tall glass of possibility. Instead I'm stuck waiting for a booth while the servers are on a smoke break. Sure, I try getting their attention. I even sit down at a couple of tables hoping to get served, but it is no use. I'm not yet meant to dine...
I'm not afraid of change. I mean, look at my life - clearly I'm no stranger to it. I think change is exciting. Change makes us grow. Change leads to opportunities and challenges and living. Yet, there are times, like now, during which I want nothing more to than to go back to the familiar.
I think my "way" is coming to an end and I'm facing changes that I thought I was prepared and ready for, but am finding out rapidly that I am not. I have everything I've ever wanted - a great job, a house with a huge yard, a loving partner, a few close friends I would walk to the ends of the earth for, two cats, a bike and the ability to ride it, and family that I adore. Yet, I have days where I feel as if I'm so profoundly alone and have no bearing on this world and those are the days during which I know that I am in the midst of a change...waiting to pass through...
But if you know me at all, you know that I'm not a patient person. Sure, I may seem patient at times, but I'm mostly just being polite. I like efficiency and I like instant gratification. This is where I get into trouble when it comes to the subject of change. Yes, change! I'm all for it! As long as it's NOW. I'm at the drive through window for change. Have a seat and order change? No, that won't do.
And so it is that I'm having a hard time being patient about the changes currently taking place (or not yet taking place, ugh!) in my life. I'm not sure what I thought it would be like. I guess I thought I would hit the ground running. New instant life, coming right up! WITH a side of social life and a tall glass of possibility. Instead I'm stuck waiting for a booth while the servers are on a smoke break. Sure, I try getting their attention. I even sit down at a couple of tables hoping to get served, but it is no use. I'm not yet meant to dine...
September 16, 2009
Mel's Movie Premiere
I've been meaning to blog about my experience as an extra on the set of Drew Barrymore's movie Whip It last year while she was filming in Detroit, but obviously I haven't. I'll get right on that! But in the meantime, the film premiered this month at the Toronto Film Festival and is set to be released to theaters on October 2nd!
One trailer for the movie, when watched in slow motion, actually shows little old me in the corner of the shot touching my nose, putting my hands in my pockets and walking off. Not exactly the big break I was hoping for, especially since my face is hidden behind a bar so that only my hat and my torso are visible, it's still pretty cool and I'm eternally optimistic that I will be in at least one other shot in the film. (Look for the scene where Eve spits beer into the crowd).
Here's the trailer starring ME! Oh, and Drew Barrymore and Ellen Page... (Watch closely at minute 2:15 on the far right at the edge of the track. That's me!)
And in case you can't find me, I now that this still photo depicting my one shining moment. Thanks Ang!
One trailer for the movie, when watched in slow motion, actually shows little old me in the corner of the shot touching my nose, putting my hands in my pockets and walking off. Not exactly the big break I was hoping for, especially since my face is hidden behind a bar so that only my hat and my torso are visible, it's still pretty cool and I'm eternally optimistic that I will be in at least one other shot in the film. (Look for the scene where Eve spits beer into the crowd).
Here's the trailer starring ME! Oh, and Drew Barrymore and Ellen Page... (Watch closely at minute 2:15 on the far right at the edge of the track. That's me!)
And in case you can't find me, I now that this still photo depicting my one shining moment. Thanks Ang!
September 15, 2009
Why I Studied Advertising
I love this stuff. Some very creative billboards, signs and general gimmicks from all over the world. Here are just a few I came across. Yay for creativity!
September 13, 2009
Shopping the Friendly Skies
Flying home to Michigan yesterday I brought a book to read on the plane, but I wasn't feeling in a place where I could devote enough attention to read it. Never fear, SkyMall is here!
Who doesn't love those battered up SkyMall magazines found conveniently in the pocket of the seat in front of you? If you've never flipped through its pages, you are missing out. I can spend a large chunk of a two-hour flight scanning through it, wondering what amazing contraption someone's come up with to supposedly make my life and the lives of those around me substantially easier.
Outrageous items - like the X5. No, it's not a video game, it's "the next generation in laser hair therapy." For a mere $299, you get a gadget that looks like a small round alarm clock that you rub on your head and supposedly generates "15 distinct points of coherent laser light directly to your scalp." Whew. Thank goodness it's not the inebriated laser light...you could wake up with a shaved head and no eyebrows.
Or there's the mosquito deterrent that's shaped like a cappuccino machine for only $349. It emits a "plant-based" repellent (though they won't tell you what it is) to save you from being one of 3,630 cases of West Nile and 117 deaths reported in 44 states. Or you could just could just pack up the kiddies and head for one of the six unaffected states. Your choice.
And there's the indoor dog restroom consisting of a rubber mat with a layer of green turf for Fido to do his business on when you're too damn lazy to talk him for a walk. Only $149.95. Holds up to two gallons of liquid. That's just gross.
How about a life-sized suit of 16-century Italian armor for only $975? It's hand crafted... the helmet opens... no?... ok...
There are so many ridiculously expensive and unnecessary products, I won't list them all here, but I must admit there were a few gems that caught my eye. Like the cordless Margaritaville Concoction Maker. Oh yes... camping just got a whole lot more interesting...
Or the "Keep Your Distance" Bug Vacuum for $49.95 that lets you stay two feet away from creepy crawlies on the walls and suck those little buggers up with a 22,400 rpm motor. Yeah!! Take that, spider!
And the digital camera and snorkeling mask combo for $99.95. Never again will you be caught underwater without your camera! The best part - just plug your mask into your computer to download the pics!
Do you ever have those moments standing in line at Starbucks listening to the foreign couple behind you talking, certain that they are making fun of your new haircut? How about the 20 Language Translator. Fits in your pocket and contains over 20,000 words and 2,000 "useful phrases" for only $79.95. Bringing us all just one step closer together in this big world... awwwww....
SkyMall is a treat in the skies, especially since airlines are too cheap to serve peanuts or crackers anymore. I'm looking forward to our flight in October when the Fall 2009 edition of SkyMall will be out. I've been itching for a new Peanut Butter Maker. "From whole nuts to spread in seconds!" Ha - that's what she said...
Who doesn't love those battered up SkyMall magazines found conveniently in the pocket of the seat in front of you? If you've never flipped through its pages, you are missing out. I can spend a large chunk of a two-hour flight scanning through it, wondering what amazing contraption someone's come up with to supposedly make my life and the lives of those around me substantially easier.
Outrageous items - like the X5. No, it's not a video game, it's "the next generation in laser hair therapy." For a mere $299, you get a gadget that looks like a small round alarm clock that you rub on your head and supposedly generates "15 distinct points of coherent laser light directly to your scalp." Whew. Thank goodness it's not the inebriated laser light...you could wake up with a shaved head and no eyebrows.
Or there's the mosquito deterrent that's shaped like a cappuccino machine for only $349. It emits a "plant-based" repellent (though they won't tell you what it is) to save you from being one of 3,630 cases of West Nile and 117 deaths reported in 44 states. Or you could just could just pack up the kiddies and head for one of the six unaffected states. Your choice.
And there's the indoor dog restroom consisting of a rubber mat with a layer of green turf for Fido to do his business on when you're too damn lazy to talk him for a walk. Only $149.95. Holds up to two gallons of liquid. That's just gross.
How about a life-sized suit of 16-century Italian armor for only $975? It's hand crafted... the helmet opens... no?... ok...
There are so many ridiculously expensive and unnecessary products, I won't list them all here, but I must admit there were a few gems that caught my eye. Like the cordless Margaritaville Concoction Maker. Oh yes... camping just got a whole lot more interesting...
Or the "Keep Your Distance" Bug Vacuum for $49.95 that lets you stay two feet away from creepy crawlies on the walls and suck those little buggers up with a 22,400 rpm motor. Yeah!! Take that, spider!
And the digital camera and snorkeling mask combo for $99.95. Never again will you be caught underwater without your camera! The best part - just plug your mask into your computer to download the pics!
Do you ever have those moments standing in line at Starbucks listening to the foreign couple behind you talking, certain that they are making fun of your new haircut? How about the 20 Language Translator. Fits in your pocket and contains over 20,000 words and 2,000 "useful phrases" for only $79.95. Bringing us all just one step closer together in this big world... awwwww....
SkyMall is a treat in the skies, especially since airlines are too cheap to serve peanuts or crackers anymore. I'm looking forward to our flight in October when the Fall 2009 edition of SkyMall will be out. I've been itching for a new Peanut Butter Maker. "From whole nuts to spread in seconds!" Ha - that's what she said...
September 12, 2009
September 11, 2009
Eight Years Later, Wounds Still Fresh
It's been eight years since the horrible attacks in New York, D.C. and Pennsylvania but it doesn't seem like it's been that long. I still get a horrible feeling in my gut whenever I think about it. Today we all are thinking about those who lost their lives and the families who forever lost their loves ones.
In memory, I'm including the video Angie cut shortly after it happened. Thanks Ang for a beautiful tribute.
In memory, I'm including the video Angie cut shortly after it happened. Thanks Ang for a beautiful tribute.
September 10, 2009
Literal Music Video Genius
It just dawned on my why Mtv no longer shows videos - because for every good video, there are hundreds of bad. Some are way over the top with sets and costumes, some are so far out there no one has any idea what's going on and some should just be locked in a vault never to be seen again. And if a music video is supposed to support, oh, I dunno, the MUSIC, why do so many videos have nothing to do with the song itself?
That's why someone (I wish it was me!) came up with the idea to take a music video and re-do the lyrics to match what's happening in the video. It's a brilliant idea and the example below is the best I've found. It's genius. It's well-executed. And it had me rolling on the floor laughing!
Enjoy :-)
That's why someone (I wish it was me!) came up with the idea to take a music video and re-do the lyrics to match what's happening in the video. It's a brilliant idea and the example below is the best I've found. It's genius. It's well-executed. And it had me rolling on the floor laughing!
Enjoy :-)
September 9, 2009
12/21/2012
I didn't know the significance of the year 2012 until chatting with a friend recently about the fate of the world and it's slow demise, during which she asked what I thought of "2012." She went on to explain that an entire section of Barnes & Noble is now devoted to books about 2012. When I explained I had no idea what 2012 was, she said that the Mayan calendar ends on December 21, 2012 and there are numerous theories as to what it means, many of them centering around world destruction.
We as a society are obsessed with the end of the world! Is the world slowly dying? Yes. You can continue to live your life in your little bubble and refuse to see what is happening around you and to the world as a whole but the fact is that resources are dwindling, temperatures are rising, lands and waters are contaminated - we've been destroying the earth for centuries. It's scientifically proven. If you say you don't care, then you don't deserve to live here. Period.
But I don't understand our obsession with armageddon, and I'm not talking about it in a religious sense. Numerous movies have come out about asteroids, aliens, natural disasters, computer glitches and other ways that life as we know it will end. The whole idea is grossly romanticized by Hollywood. Bloodshed from wars, weapons of mass destruction and lives lost from natural disasters in the past decade have increased and elevated our awareness that maybe something has been put into motion. But the end of the world in one day? I don't know...
Back to the Mayans... The Mayan civilization has long been studied for their knowledge of mathematics and astronomy long before these concepts were understood in the Eastern world. Their calendar is highly intricate and some believe the Mayan Calendar is a prophetic calendar that may help us understand the past and foresee the future. Therefore, the fact that the calendar ends on December, 21, 2012 could be significant. Either the end of the world or a period of profound change, the Mayans must have known something we don't.
Or maybe they just didn't feel like going that far into the future! Think about it - the Mayan civilization began around the 1800 B.C. and their calendar begins around August 11, 3114 B.C. It should also be noted that their calendar does not follow the 365 days-a-year that our calendar follows. So maybe they ran out of time before the calendar got to 2012. What if the guy in charge decided he was fed up with his calendar duties and gave up just before their civilization collapsed? Maybe they couldn't foresee that far into the future. Who does?? I don't know about you, but I'm not sitting around wondering what's going to happen in April of 7003.
So, while I do believe the earth is heading in the wrong direction and the quality of life on this planet is significantly dwindling, I think 12/21/12 is going to come and go and we'll be no better or worse off than we are right now.
We as a society are obsessed with the end of the world! Is the world slowly dying? Yes. You can continue to live your life in your little bubble and refuse to see what is happening around you and to the world as a whole but the fact is that resources are dwindling, temperatures are rising, lands and waters are contaminated - we've been destroying the earth for centuries. It's scientifically proven. If you say you don't care, then you don't deserve to live here. Period.
But I don't understand our obsession with armageddon, and I'm not talking about it in a religious sense. Numerous movies have come out about asteroids, aliens, natural disasters, computer glitches and other ways that life as we know it will end. The whole idea is grossly romanticized by Hollywood. Bloodshed from wars, weapons of mass destruction and lives lost from natural disasters in the past decade have increased and elevated our awareness that maybe something has been put into motion. But the end of the world in one day? I don't know...
Back to the Mayans... The Mayan civilization has long been studied for their knowledge of mathematics and astronomy long before these concepts were understood in the Eastern world. Their calendar is highly intricate and some believe the Mayan Calendar is a prophetic calendar that may help us understand the past and foresee the future. Therefore, the fact that the calendar ends on December, 21, 2012 could be significant. Either the end of the world or a period of profound change, the Mayans must have known something we don't.
Or maybe they just didn't feel like going that far into the future! Think about it - the Mayan civilization began around the 1800 B.C. and their calendar begins around August 11, 3114 B.C. It should also be noted that their calendar does not follow the 365 days-a-year that our calendar follows. So maybe they ran out of time before the calendar got to 2012. What if the guy in charge decided he was fed up with his calendar duties and gave up just before their civilization collapsed? Maybe they couldn't foresee that far into the future. Who does?? I don't know about you, but I'm not sitting around wondering what's going to happen in April of 7003.
So, while I do believe the earth is heading in the wrong direction and the quality of life on this planet is significantly dwindling, I think 12/21/12 is going to come and go and we'll be no better or worse off than we are right now.
September 8, 2009
Jeopardy Then and Now
Jeopardy, one of the most successful shows in game show history, started it's 25-year trek with Trebek on September 10, 1984. Currently on break between the 25th and 26th seasons, NBC aired this first 1984 episode last night and I'm happy to say I have taped! Wow, have things changed... Trebeck walks out looking so young and dapper in his charcoal gray suit, crisp light peach shirt and handkerchief in his pocket. A full head of dark hair and a nicely trimmed handlebar mustache, the young Trebeck was a lot less tanned and cocky than he is now.
The contestants are introduced - Greg, Lois, and Frank - two copywriters and an "energy demonstrator". The clue board looks homemade like someone took some cardboard, red garland and a magic marker and whipped it together in their garage the night before. Dollar amounts are minuscule, ranging from just $100 to $500, whereas now they start at $200 up to $1000 for the first round.
The very first clue in the category "Animals" was so elementary, a fourth grader could have responded correctly. The pace of the game is painfully slow despite the fact that during the first season contestants were allowed to buzz in before Alex was finished reading the clue. (They later changed that to allow contestants more time to ponder their responses and to make it more enjoyable for those of us playing at home.) Contributing to the slow pace is the applause after every question and the dramatic gasps of horror after an incorrect response - most of which were aimed at poor Lois who didn't ring in for the first 9 clues then answered her first three tries incorrectly until she hit her stride with the stereotypically female category of "Foreign Cuisine".
She was rewarded with a mere $200 at the end of the first round and a hearty "good girl!" from Alex.
The final round is an exciting one. The clue in the category "Holidays" was"The 3rd Monday in January starting in 1986." All three contestants responded correctly (as did those of us playing at home) and the winner took home a little over $8,000 - the average for the first season. The average take home winnings this past season? $23,000.
Other interesting Jeopardy factoids:
Before 2003, champions were limited to five wins on the show with a winnings cap of $200,000. After that was abandoned, the most famous Jeopardy champion, Ken Jennings, competed in 74 consecutive games with winnings exceeding 2.5 million dollars.
The first Jeopardy episode ever was in 1964. Created by Merv Griffin and hosted by Art Fleming, it ran during the day time but was never syndicated.
The smallest amount of winnings ever was $1.00 and has only happened once.
Only once have all three contestants tied for the championship and all appeared against each other again in the next game.
After the first season, if a contestant attempts to ring in before Alex has finished reading the clue, they are locked out of ringing in for two tenths of a second.
Second place contestants currently receive $2,000 and third place $1,000 for being on the show.
From 1997 to 2002, in addition to their cash winnings, champions also received a car.
In 1999, Jeopardy's first blind contestant, Eddie Timanus, appeared on the show. The only special assistance given to him during his games was a card on which the category names were printed in Braille (which he only received at the very start of the round), and a computer keyboard to type out his response for Final Jeopardy. There were also no video-based clues during his appearances. Timanus won five consecutive games and, according to the rules in effect at that time, then retired undefeated. His winnings totalled $69,700 plus two new cars. He also went on to win $50,000 on Who Wants to be a Millionaire in 2004.
Jeopardy will begin it's 26th season next week with a brand new set! Can't wait!
The contestants are introduced - Greg, Lois, and Frank - two copywriters and an "energy demonstrator". The clue board looks homemade like someone took some cardboard, red garland and a magic marker and whipped it together in their garage the night before. Dollar amounts are minuscule, ranging from just $100 to $500, whereas now they start at $200 up to $1000 for the first round.
The very first clue in the category "Animals" was so elementary, a fourth grader could have responded correctly. The pace of the game is painfully slow despite the fact that during the first season contestants were allowed to buzz in before Alex was finished reading the clue. (They later changed that to allow contestants more time to ponder their responses and to make it more enjoyable for those of us playing at home.) Contributing to the slow pace is the applause after every question and the dramatic gasps of horror after an incorrect response - most of which were aimed at poor Lois who didn't ring in for the first 9 clues then answered her first three tries incorrectly until she hit her stride with the stereotypically female category of "Foreign Cuisine".
She was rewarded with a mere $200 at the end of the first round and a hearty "good girl!" from Alex.
The final round is an exciting one. The clue in the category "Holidays" was"The 3rd Monday in January starting in 1986." All three contestants responded correctly (as did those of us playing at home) and the winner took home a little over $8,000 - the average for the first season. The average take home winnings this past season? $23,000.
Other interesting Jeopardy factoids:
Before 2003, champions were limited to five wins on the show with a winnings cap of $200,000. After that was abandoned, the most famous Jeopardy champion, Ken Jennings, competed in 74 consecutive games with winnings exceeding 2.5 million dollars.
The first Jeopardy episode ever was in 1964. Created by Merv Griffin and hosted by Art Fleming, it ran during the day time but was never syndicated.
The smallest amount of winnings ever was $1.00 and has only happened once.
Only once have all three contestants tied for the championship and all appeared against each other again in the next game.
After the first season, if a contestant attempts to ring in before Alex has finished reading the clue, they are locked out of ringing in for two tenths of a second.
Second place contestants currently receive $2,000 and third place $1,000 for being on the show.
From 1997 to 2002, in addition to their cash winnings, champions also received a car.
In 1999, Jeopardy's first blind contestant, Eddie Timanus, appeared on the show. The only special assistance given to him during his games was a card on which the category names were printed in Braille (which he only received at the very start of the round), and a computer keyboard to type out his response for Final Jeopardy. There were also no video-based clues during his appearances. Timanus won five consecutive games and, according to the rules in effect at that time, then retired undefeated. His winnings totalled $69,700 plus two new cars. He also went on to win $50,000 on Who Wants to be a Millionaire in 2004.
Jeopardy will begin it's 26th season next week with a brand new set! Can't wait!
September 7, 2009
Hanging Rock State Park
Today we went hiking at Hanging Rock State Park, located about 100 miles from Durham, just north of Winston-Salem. The park is nestled among the Sauratown Mountains with peaks ranging from 1,700 feet to more than 2,500 feet. Named for the Saura Indians, the Sauratown Mountains were once much larger, but have eroded significantly over the years. Still, coming from the hills of the midwest, they were definitely mountains to us!
The park has over 18 miles of trails, so we left bright and early and arrived at the park just before 10am. We mapped out our 8-mile route to cover a couple of waterfalls, the signature Hanging Rock, and a long wooded trail leading to several other vistas. A cloudy morning, the sun hadn't yet burned off the haze as we headed out on Indian Creek Trail to see Hidden Falls and Window Falls. Only a half mile into the trail and accessible by families, they were nice little falls, but I suspect they are more impressive in the spring.
After the falls, we retraced our steps back to the parking and to the Hanging Rock trailhead. The trail starts out as a wide paved path and turns to gravel after about 1/4 mile. After about a half mile, the trails gets steep and we're climbing over roots, boards and boulders. We climb for a half mile straight up, panting and sweating to the top of Hanging Rock, but the view was well worth it.
We did our best to take photos that didn't reflect how massively busy the trail and the vista was. That's what we get for hiking on a holiday! Kids were running everywhere with their parents yelling after them. Peaceful it was not, so we'll definitely be going back.
After hanging rock, we scrambled down the trail and connected with the Wolf Rock Trail, a longer less accessible and therefore more peaceful trail. Another rocky hilly trail, our ankles and hips were beginning to get sore from walking on uneven ground. The only wildlife we encountered were tiny lizards and the biggest, grossest centipede thing we've ever seen. Once we reached Wolf Rock, we stopped for lunch.
Huge black ravens soared past us and we could just make out the skyline of Winston-Salem on the horizon, nearly 25 miles away. After lunch we continued down the trail another mile or so, still clambering over rocks and roots until we got to another nice vista, but by this time our feet were beginning to fail us so we turned around and headed back. All in all we hiked somewhere around 6.5 miles and left room for another visit this fall when the leaves are changing and the trails are less crowded.
The park has over 18 miles of trails, so we left bright and early and arrived at the park just before 10am. We mapped out our 8-mile route to cover a couple of waterfalls, the signature Hanging Rock, and a long wooded trail leading to several other vistas. A cloudy morning, the sun hadn't yet burned off the haze as we headed out on Indian Creek Trail to see Hidden Falls and Window Falls. Only a half mile into the trail and accessible by families, they were nice little falls, but I suspect they are more impressive in the spring.
After the falls, we retraced our steps back to the parking and to the Hanging Rock trailhead. The trail starts out as a wide paved path and turns to gravel after about 1/4 mile. After about a half mile, the trails gets steep and we're climbing over roots, boards and boulders. We climb for a half mile straight up, panting and sweating to the top of Hanging Rock, but the view was well worth it.
We did our best to take photos that didn't reflect how massively busy the trail and the vista was. That's what we get for hiking on a holiday! Kids were running everywhere with their parents yelling after them. Peaceful it was not, so we'll definitely be going back.
After hanging rock, we scrambled down the trail and connected with the Wolf Rock Trail, a longer less accessible and therefore more peaceful trail. Another rocky hilly trail, our ankles and hips were beginning to get sore from walking on uneven ground. The only wildlife we encountered were tiny lizards and the biggest, grossest centipede thing we've ever seen. Once we reached Wolf Rock, we stopped for lunch.
Huge black ravens soared past us and we could just make out the skyline of Winston-Salem on the horizon, nearly 25 miles away. After lunch we continued down the trail another mile or so, still clambering over rocks and roots until we got to another nice vista, but by this time our feet were beginning to fail us so we turned around and headed back. All in all we hiked somewhere around 6.5 miles and left room for another visit this fall when the leaves are changing and the trails are less crowded.
September 6, 2009
Labor Day
It's Labor Day weekend! But what does that mean? It signals the end of summer and the beginning of another school year. It means BBQs and three-day weekends and back-to-school shopping. But do we really know what we are celebrating? It dawned on me that I never really understood what Labor Day was and why it was a federal holiday. Are we honoring labor with a day off? Seems a bit hypocritical. What if we celebrated Independence Day by becoming more dependent? Or if we celebrated Thanksgiving by by fasting?
Labor Day does in fact have its roots buried in the labor movement. Apparently the first labor day parade was held in New York City in September of 1882. Thousands of workers and their families took a hiatus from work and marched through the streets in honor of American workers. A year later, the Central Labor Union held their own celebration and selected the first Monday of September as Labor Day in 1884. Several states recognized the day, but it wasn't until 1894 that it became a federal holiday - and this is where politics comes into play.
On May 11, 1894, workers at Pullman Palace Car Company in Chicago went on strike to protest cut wages and the firing of union representatives. Union leaders soon got involved and the protest reached across America. The American Railway Union called a boycott of all Pullman cars and the work of 50,000 rail workers screeched to a halt and things got ugly in Chicago. On July 4th (ironically) President Grover Cleveland dispatched troops to combat the rising upheaval. After several riots and a lot of bloodshed, the crowds were dispersed and the strike came to a close. The event brought workers' and union rights into the homes of every American and congress decided that something needed to be done to appease the masses and recognize the struggles of the working man. It was within days of the end of the Pullman strike that congress declared the first Monday of September, Labor Day, a federal holiday.
This is pretty significant stuff! It makes me wonder why I never learned this in school. Why didn't we have Labor Day pageants that depicted the 12 hour days and horrible conditions American workers used to face? Why aren't more speeches made about the labor movement and what it meant to America?
I don't have the answers to those questions but we all know how ironic a Labor Day celebration is in the face of the country's worst every unemployment rates so maybe it makes sense that instead of orating speeches on the sacrifices made during the labor movement we don our bathing suits, grab a beer and put a few burgers on the grill. And if you actually have a job right now, enjoying your day off.
Labor Day does in fact have its roots buried in the labor movement. Apparently the first labor day parade was held in New York City in September of 1882. Thousands of workers and their families took a hiatus from work and marched through the streets in honor of American workers. A year later, the Central Labor Union held their own celebration and selected the first Monday of September as Labor Day in 1884. Several states recognized the day, but it wasn't until 1894 that it became a federal holiday - and this is where politics comes into play.
On May 11, 1894, workers at Pullman Palace Car Company in Chicago went on strike to protest cut wages and the firing of union representatives. Union leaders soon got involved and the protest reached across America. The American Railway Union called a boycott of all Pullman cars and the work of 50,000 rail workers screeched to a halt and things got ugly in Chicago. On July 4th (ironically) President Grover Cleveland dispatched troops to combat the rising upheaval. After several riots and a lot of bloodshed, the crowds were dispersed and the strike came to a close. The event brought workers' and union rights into the homes of every American and congress decided that something needed to be done to appease the masses and recognize the struggles of the working man. It was within days of the end of the Pullman strike that congress declared the first Monday of September, Labor Day, a federal holiday.
This is pretty significant stuff! It makes me wonder why I never learned this in school. Why didn't we have Labor Day pageants that depicted the 12 hour days and horrible conditions American workers used to face? Why aren't more speeches made about the labor movement and what it meant to America?
I don't have the answers to those questions but we all know how ironic a Labor Day celebration is in the face of the country's worst every unemployment rates so maybe it makes sense that instead of orating speeches on the sacrifices made during the labor movement we don our bathing suits, grab a beer and put a few burgers on the grill. And if you actually have a job right now, enjoying your day off.
September 5, 2009
Bull City Not a Black Sheep
To many, Durham is the black sheep (or bull) of the triangle. Not as metropolitan or cosmopolitan as Raleigh and not as pretentious and yuppie as Chapel Hill, Durham is a little more blue collar and a little more rough around the edges. But there's a lot more to Durham that most people realize. Tobacco town is bursting with character with mouth-watering restaurants, a minor league baseball stadium, a farmer's market and community dedicated to local food, the American Tobacco trail for biking and running, an old reconditioned movie theater, revamped tobacco warehouses that now house lofts, restaurants, offices and shops, a new multi-million dollar performing arts center and of course, a little university you might have heard of. I love this town. It's just big enough to offer all of the cultural events I'm looking for, yet small enough to feel like a community.
And they take their Bull City name seriously! Here are just a few shots of the Bulls about town:
There's an energy and a friendliness here that I've never experienced. Durham is a growing town proud of its heritage and welcomes YA'LL to be a part of it. I'm sold.
And they take their Bull City name seriously! Here are just a few shots of the Bulls about town:
There's an energy and a friendliness here that I've never experienced. Durham is a growing town proud of its heritage and welcomes YA'LL to be a part of it. I'm sold.
September 4, 2009
Eat and Run
Durham's Doughman race gives whole new meaning to the term "eat and run."
I first heard of the race when Nicole received a text from a friend of hers explaining that Man vs. Food, a show on the Travel Channel, has a show dedicated to Durham. I had never seen the show before, but apparently it's a half hour of the host visiting the most outrageous and artery clogging restaurants/food places in a particular city. Carolina is known for their pork bbq, so of course a trip to the BBQ Shack in Durham was a necessity but the real star of the show was Man vs. Food team's participation in the race.
In May 2009, Durham held the second annual Doughman race to benefit a Durham inner city gardeners program called Seeds. The program gets the youth of Durham involved in planting, cultivating and harvesting crops in an environmentally and socially sustainable place. Through the program these kids develop a myriad of skills directly related to the gardening process and gain an understanding of environmental stewardship, nutrition, health, and economics all while improving their self-confidence and growing their leadership skills. Pretty cool stuff.
The race is termed a "quadathlon" incorporating the three typical events of running, biking and swimming and throwing in the fourth major event - eating. Run in relay style, teams of four alternate an eating leg and an athletic leg. For example, teammate #1 begins the race by eating crab macaroni and cheese, runs 2 miles, strips down to his/her bathing suit, swims the length of a pool and tags teammate #2 who then proceeds to bike to the next eating destination, down a "Bull City BLT" with homemade potato chips, bikes a few more miles and tags teammate #3 and so on. Teammate #4 has the task of eating the "Portable Defibrillator," a 1/4 pound local beef patty loaded with cheese, local meat chili, bacon, 1/4 hot dog and coleslaw on a fresh, locally baked bun. The sandwich is so mammoth, no sides are necessary.
Once the last team member finishes his or her leg, all four team members together scarf down four "Daisy Cakes," cupcakes of various flavors including strawberry shortcake and cinnamon cream cheese with candied bacon. Only once that is completed, all four together can run across the finish line.
The rules are very simple. Two team members are allowed to be vegan or vegetarian, all four team members must cross the finish line together, and the website specifically states that "vomiting is strictly discouraged". Yeah, right, tell that to my gut! I think it's safe to say that this is one race I will not be training for, but if you are so inclined, the site even gives prospective teams a training guide. Week one, get up, eat a donut and walk to the mailbox...
I first heard of the race when Nicole received a text from a friend of hers explaining that Man vs. Food, a show on the Travel Channel, has a show dedicated to Durham. I had never seen the show before, but apparently it's a half hour of the host visiting the most outrageous and artery clogging restaurants/food places in a particular city. Carolina is known for their pork bbq, so of course a trip to the BBQ Shack in Durham was a necessity but the real star of the show was Man vs. Food team's participation in the race.
In May 2009, Durham held the second annual Doughman race to benefit a Durham inner city gardeners program called Seeds. The program gets the youth of Durham involved in planting, cultivating and harvesting crops in an environmentally and socially sustainable place. Through the program these kids develop a myriad of skills directly related to the gardening process and gain an understanding of environmental stewardship, nutrition, health, and economics all while improving their self-confidence and growing their leadership skills. Pretty cool stuff.
The race is termed a "quadathlon" incorporating the three typical events of running, biking and swimming and throwing in the fourth major event - eating. Run in relay style, teams of four alternate an eating leg and an athletic leg. For example, teammate #1 begins the race by eating crab macaroni and cheese, runs 2 miles, strips down to his/her bathing suit, swims the length of a pool and tags teammate #2 who then proceeds to bike to the next eating destination, down a "Bull City BLT" with homemade potato chips, bikes a few more miles and tags teammate #3 and so on. Teammate #4 has the task of eating the "Portable Defibrillator," a 1/4 pound local beef patty loaded with cheese, local meat chili, bacon, 1/4 hot dog and coleslaw on a fresh, locally baked bun. The sandwich is so mammoth, no sides are necessary.
Once the last team member finishes his or her leg, all four team members together scarf down four "Daisy Cakes," cupcakes of various flavors including strawberry shortcake and cinnamon cream cheese with candied bacon. Only once that is completed, all four together can run across the finish line.
The rules are very simple. Two team members are allowed to be vegan or vegetarian, all four team members must cross the finish line together, and the website specifically states that "vomiting is strictly discouraged". Yeah, right, tell that to my gut! I think it's safe to say that this is one race I will not be training for, but if you are so inclined, the site even gives prospective teams a training guide. Week one, get up, eat a donut and walk to the mailbox...
September 3, 2009
Yet Another Reason to Love Ben & Jerry's!
Vermont, the forgotten state. The little slice of a state you have to go through to get to Maine. That state with the smallest state capital. (five bucks if you can name it without looking it up). New Hampshire's reverse twin, known for skiing, maple syrup, the Vermont Teddy Bear Factory and, it's largest employer, Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Well, folks, Vermont just got a whole lot sweeter in the LGBT community this week as they became the sixth state to allow and recognize same sex marriage.
((((APPLAUSE))))
In celebration of this step toward equality, Ben & Jerry's has re-named their Chubby Hubby ice cream to Hubby Hubby for the month of September. If you happen to find yourself in Vermont, you can visit any B&J store and order up a Hubby Hubby sundae. Don't look for the new labels in stores though, the change is symbolic only. It would cost far too much and take far too long to roll out an entirely new look just for the month of September, but kudos to a company like Ben & Jerry's for wanting to shed even more light on what's going right in this country.
Equality and ice cream for all!
((((APPLAUSE))))
In celebration of this step toward equality, Ben & Jerry's has re-named their Chubby Hubby ice cream to Hubby Hubby for the month of September. If you happen to find yourself in Vermont, you can visit any B&J store and order up a Hubby Hubby sundae. Don't look for the new labels in stores though, the change is symbolic only. It would cost far too much and take far too long to roll out an entirely new look just for the month of September, but kudos to a company like Ben & Jerry's for wanting to shed even more light on what's going right in this country.
Equality and ice cream for all!
September 2, 2009
Wanna Be My Friend?
Do you remember the first friend you ever made? I'm willing to bet that you don't because there was probably nothing memorable about it. You're four years old playing in your sandbox and over walks the neighbor kid who plops down alongside you and next thing you know you're best buds. Or maybe you are five and at your first day of school and the little girl with pigtails comes up to you and says she likes your lunchbox and you eat lunch together every day for the next 13 years.
Making friends used to be so easy! You could walk up to another kid and say "hey, wanna be friends?", she'd say "ok" and off you went skipping and holding hands. Why can't it be like that when we are adults? Somewhere between lunchboxes and 401K's making friends gets complicated. There are so many factors... do they share the same political and religious views? Are they single, married, divorced, gay, straight, bi, transgendered, yuppie, hippie, with kids, without kids, geeky, sporty, trendy, a smoker, a drinker. It's exhausting. Why can't I go up to some nice looking person at the coffee shop, plop down next to her and say "Hey, wanna be friends?" Well, I could... if I don't mind odd looks and rejection.
There was a period in my life a few years ago during which I needed to make some new friends so I hopped on the myspace bus and managed to find some pretty amazing people who I'm glad to say are still in my life (and some that I'm glad are not!). It wasn't easy putting myself out there, but hiding behind a keyboard before an actual face-to-face meeting suited me well. But I was also different then, or at least in a different situation that I am now. I was single and I was in my 20s, both very important factors. It's easier to make friends when you are single because you tend to go out a lot in large groups of people, talk to everyone you meet and everyone wants to date you.
Now I'm in my 30s and I don't live that lifestyle. I'd much rather be home watching jeopardy and grilling than going to the bar. Leave for the bar at 11? Yeah right, I'm in bed by ten, sister! So I have the option to join clubs. They have clubs for everything now from reading books to meditation to various sports and hobbies. I've looked into them but just haven't found my niche. Where's the group for cool, laid-back chicks who like to do a ton of fun things and just need people to do them with?
So I got back on myspace, but I'm not having much luck there. I look through profiles of people in my area and send a few messages that basically say "hey, wanna be my friend?" but not in so many words. Next I tried an ad on craigslist and I've had a few bites in the first day I posted it, so we'll see where that leads. I joined a kickball league that starts next week. At least I feel like I'm doing something. I realize that people aren't going to come knock on my door. Oh if there were only door-to-door friendship salespeople! With warranties! If one friend doesn't work out, exchange her for another or get your money back!
I would love an encyclopedia of new friends of all shapes, sizes, and colors to hang with and learn from who will knock on my door on a random Tuesday night and ask Nicole if I can come out and play.
If I don't know you and you're reading this, wanna be my friend??
Making friends used to be so easy! You could walk up to another kid and say "hey, wanna be friends?", she'd say "ok" and off you went skipping and holding hands. Why can't it be like that when we are adults? Somewhere between lunchboxes and 401K's making friends gets complicated. There are so many factors... do they share the same political and religious views? Are they single, married, divorced, gay, straight, bi, transgendered, yuppie, hippie, with kids, without kids, geeky, sporty, trendy, a smoker, a drinker. It's exhausting. Why can't I go up to some nice looking person at the coffee shop, plop down next to her and say "Hey, wanna be friends?" Well, I could... if I don't mind odd looks and rejection.
There was a period in my life a few years ago during which I needed to make some new friends so I hopped on the myspace bus and managed to find some pretty amazing people who I'm glad to say are still in my life (and some that I'm glad are not!). It wasn't easy putting myself out there, but hiding behind a keyboard before an actual face-to-face meeting suited me well. But I was also different then, or at least in a different situation that I am now. I was single and I was in my 20s, both very important factors. It's easier to make friends when you are single because you tend to go out a lot in large groups of people, talk to everyone you meet and everyone wants to date you.
Now I'm in my 30s and I don't live that lifestyle. I'd much rather be home watching jeopardy and grilling than going to the bar. Leave for the bar at 11? Yeah right, I'm in bed by ten, sister! So I have the option to join clubs. They have clubs for everything now from reading books to meditation to various sports and hobbies. I've looked into them but just haven't found my niche. Where's the group for cool, laid-back chicks who like to do a ton of fun things and just need people to do them with?
So I got back on myspace, but I'm not having much luck there. I look through profiles of people in my area and send a few messages that basically say "hey, wanna be my friend?" but not in so many words. Next I tried an ad on craigslist and I've had a few bites in the first day I posted it, so we'll see where that leads. I joined a kickball league that starts next week. At least I feel like I'm doing something. I realize that people aren't going to come knock on my door. Oh if there were only door-to-door friendship salespeople! With warranties! If one friend doesn't work out, exchange her for another or get your money back!
I would love an encyclopedia of new friends of all shapes, sizes, and colors to hang with and learn from who will knock on my door on a random Tuesday night and ask Nicole if I can come out and play.
If I don't know you and you're reading this, wanna be my friend??
September 1, 2009
Bull Durham
Tonight we went to a Durham Bulls minor league baseball game. They made five errors and lost 10-2. Maybe we should have stayed home and watched the movie!
Some say it's the best baseball movie of all-time, and while not a fan of baseball or movies about baseball, I'd have to agree. It perfectly marries male bonding, sports, sex and romance, mixing them all together in a way that appeals to men and women alike. Just crude enough for the men, just romantic enough for the women.
Also, for a movie to stand the test of time, it's gotta be quotable. Bull Durham gives us such beauties as "Man that ball got outta here in a hurry. I mean anything travels that far oughta have a damn stewardess on it, don't you think?" And who could forget Costner's rousing soliloquy in which he says "I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days".
Ask anyone here, Durham is proud of their movie legacy. The city hosted Costner and his band in 2008 to celebrate the movie's 20th anniversary. The movie was largely filmed in downtown Durham at the athletic park, the former home of the city's minor league baseball team for 68 years; an old stadium nothing like the fancy new digs the Bulls currently play in. But one aspect still remains - the famous Durham Bull sitting high atop left field that wags his tail up and down and blows smoke from his nostrils every time the Bulls score a home run. Unfortunately of the two games I've been to this season, the opposing team scored all the home runs so I've had to settle for watching scenes like this one:
Not certain is actually makes mooing noises... maybe we'll find out next season.
Some say it's the best baseball movie of all-time, and while not a fan of baseball or movies about baseball, I'd have to agree. It perfectly marries male bonding, sports, sex and romance, mixing them all together in a way that appeals to men and women alike. Just crude enough for the men, just romantic enough for the women.
Also, for a movie to stand the test of time, it's gotta be quotable. Bull Durham gives us such beauties as "Man that ball got outta here in a hurry. I mean anything travels that far oughta have a damn stewardess on it, don't you think?" And who could forget Costner's rousing soliloquy in which he says "I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days".
Ask anyone here, Durham is proud of their movie legacy. The city hosted Costner and his band in 2008 to celebrate the movie's 20th anniversary. The movie was largely filmed in downtown Durham at the athletic park, the former home of the city's minor league baseball team for 68 years; an old stadium nothing like the fancy new digs the Bulls currently play in. But one aspect still remains - the famous Durham Bull sitting high atop left field that wags his tail up and down and blows smoke from his nostrils every time the Bulls score a home run. Unfortunately of the two games I've been to this season, the opposing team scored all the home runs so I've had to settle for watching scenes like this one:
Not certain is actually makes mooing noises... maybe we'll find out next season.
August 31, 2009
Mosquito and Meatballs
I don't care if they are sacred creatures of the earth and I'm supposed to be kind to them, they have never and will never show an ounce of respect for my body. They mosey right over, take what they need and then off they go in search of their next victim. No, I'm not referring to your last blind date. I'm talking about those nasty little biting nuisances called mosquitoes.
While I realize that no one particularly likes mosquitoes, let me just say that I loathe them. And if you know me, you know it is unlike me to loathe any living thing (with the exception of big hairy spiders that have the nerve to come within three feet of me). In fact, just yesterday I was cleaning up the backyard and came across a little brown snake, no thicker than a pencil and about ten inches long. He looked so harmless and (dare I say it?) cute sitting there motionless, waiting patiently for me to put back the garbage can from where I had so rudely removed it.
But while I was doing aforementioned yard work, little did I know that I was slowly being sucked dry by blood sucking little creeps! I didn't find out until twelve hours later when I woke up in the middle of the night, itching so violently that I had to get up and tend to thirteen bites, many of which were swollen to the size of a nickel. In the morning, I awoke with a mission - I'm going to kill every last mosquito on this planet, or at least in my yard. I will not be forced to enjoy my North Carolina BBQ within the confines of my house!
Known to all as the Google Queen, I got to work and through my research I found that mosquitoes are repelled by an assortment of smells, most of them essential oils like sage, rosemary, eucalyptus, peppermint, lemongrass and, of course, citronella. These are great for applying directly on your body, but I was looking for something on a grander scale, picturing myself covered in mosquito netting from head to toe wielding a power sprayer filled with some botanically-correct concoction. Mosquitoes will fear me. They will tell all of their mosquito friends to stay away from the big white duplex on Ward Street.
I came across a forum discussion regarding the use of natural methods to keep pests away with garlic pepper tea. The "tea" is a mixture of two garlic cloves, two hot peppers, a bit of vegetable oil and dishwashing soap, blended together, mixed with water and then sprayed all over the yard. This is exactly what I'm looking for! Apparently mosquitoes don't like the smell of garlic. I never did find out what the hot pepper does, unless it's intended to make their tiny noses burn and foreheads sweat. I wonder if they prefer restaurant style corn chips or Tostitos rounds.
Even though I researched and read reviews on an assortment of sprayers at Home Depot and fantasize about wearing my bright yellow dishgloves and waders, the thought of chopping up all of that garlic was a bit discouraging. Luckily I come across www.dirtdoctor.com - Natural Organic Living and Gardening. Self proclaimed dirt doctor Howard Garret explained that spreading minced garlic all over your lawn will kill adult mosquitoes and effectively keep them away for 25 - 30 days. One reader wrote commented on purchasing a large container of garlic at Sam's Club and it being the only thing that worked in his small yard during mosquito season. Reading on I found that we humans only smell it for an hour or so, then it's only detectable by mosquitoes. Perfect!
$17.89 and over seven pounds of granulated garlic later, I'm ready to do this. I put on long black pants and a dark long-sleeve shirt (the little buggers are attracted to light colors), poke holes in the top of the container of garlic with a screwdriver and practically skip down the back stairs to commence sprinkling.
The garlic shakes out well and I cover the ground with a fine layer of seasoning. The smell gets stronger as I go and eventually I'm breathing in a continuous fog of garlic. Suddenly craving spaghetti, I stop and strain my ears in the hopes of hearing tiny little mosquito screams.
Mosquito and meatballs, anyone?
While I realize that no one particularly likes mosquitoes, let me just say that I loathe them. And if you know me, you know it is unlike me to loathe any living thing (with the exception of big hairy spiders that have the nerve to come within three feet of me). In fact, just yesterday I was cleaning up the backyard and came across a little brown snake, no thicker than a pencil and about ten inches long. He looked so harmless and (dare I say it?) cute sitting there motionless, waiting patiently for me to put back the garbage can from where I had so rudely removed it.
But while I was doing aforementioned yard work, little did I know that I was slowly being sucked dry by blood sucking little creeps! I didn't find out until twelve hours later when I woke up in the middle of the night, itching so violently that I had to get up and tend to thirteen bites, many of which were swollen to the size of a nickel. In the morning, I awoke with a mission - I'm going to kill every last mosquito on this planet, or at least in my yard. I will not be forced to enjoy my North Carolina BBQ within the confines of my house!
Known to all as the Google Queen, I got to work and through my research I found that mosquitoes are repelled by an assortment of smells, most of them essential oils like sage, rosemary, eucalyptus, peppermint, lemongrass and, of course, citronella. These are great for applying directly on your body, but I was looking for something on a grander scale, picturing myself covered in mosquito netting from head to toe wielding a power sprayer filled with some botanically-correct concoction. Mosquitoes will fear me. They will tell all of their mosquito friends to stay away from the big white duplex on Ward Street.
I came across a forum discussion regarding the use of natural methods to keep pests away with garlic pepper tea. The "tea" is a mixture of two garlic cloves, two hot peppers, a bit of vegetable oil and dishwashing soap, blended together, mixed with water and then sprayed all over the yard. This is exactly what I'm looking for! Apparently mosquitoes don't like the smell of garlic. I never did find out what the hot pepper does, unless it's intended to make their tiny noses burn and foreheads sweat. I wonder if they prefer restaurant style corn chips or Tostitos rounds.
Even though I researched and read reviews on an assortment of sprayers at Home Depot and fantasize about wearing my bright yellow dishgloves and waders, the thought of chopping up all of that garlic was a bit discouraging. Luckily I come across www.dirtdoctor.com - Natural Organic Living and Gardening. Self proclaimed dirt doctor Howard Garret explained that spreading minced garlic all over your lawn will kill adult mosquitoes and effectively keep them away for 25 - 30 days. One reader wrote commented on purchasing a large container of garlic at Sam's Club and it being the only thing that worked in his small yard during mosquito season. Reading on I found that we humans only smell it for an hour or so, then it's only detectable by mosquitoes. Perfect!
$17.89 and over seven pounds of granulated garlic later, I'm ready to do this. I put on long black pants and a dark long-sleeve shirt (the little buggers are attracted to light colors), poke holes in the top of the container of garlic with a screwdriver and practically skip down the back stairs to commence sprinkling.The garlic shakes out well and I cover the ground with a fine layer of seasoning. The smell gets stronger as I go and eventually I'm breathing in a continuous fog of garlic. Suddenly craving spaghetti, I stop and strain my ears in the hopes of hearing tiny little mosquito screams.
Mosquito and meatballs, anyone?
August 18, 2009
Bugged
In case you haven't heard, everything grows bigger in the south (including my hair, thanks to the humidity), and the bugs down here are no exception. Our first encounter was the day after we arrived while storing some items in the garage/basement (yes, they are one and the same, our house sits on top of the garage which is built into the earth). We open the door to the cool, dark garage and out of the corner of my eye I see what looks like a large spider scurry and hop across the cement floor. But before panicking, I take a good look at the thing and I can see it's not a spider - it has the body of a spider, but it's legs are more like that of a grasshopper or a cricket. Light brown in color with tortoise shell markings, its little antennae move back and forth trying to adjust to the bright light we just let in. Definitely not a spider, but what is it?
Curious and feeling brave (my bug-a-phobia appears to largely apply only to spiders) I walk over to get a closer look and just as I lean down to within two feet of it, it jumps half that distance right up in the air and straight at my face! Naturally I scream like a little girl while Nicole laughs and I decide I've had enough of mystery bug for one day and close the garage door.
Thanks to a visit from our landlord that evening, we learn that the mystery bug is commonly called a "cave cricket." Like its name implies, it primarily live in caves, but some do find their way to cool dark basements like ours. Further research told me that they are not from the same family as crickets and are found on every continent on the planet. According to Wikipedia, "Cave crickets have very large hind legs with 'drumstick-shape' femora and long, slender antennae. They are brownish in color and rather humpbacked in appearance, always wingless, and up to two inches long in body and 4 inches for the legs." The most interesting fact about cave crickets is since they live in deep dark caves where nothing else really exists, they often go for long periods of time without food and have been known to eat their own extremities. Next time you tell someone you're so hungry you could gnaw your own arm off, think of our little cave crickets and be grateful you aren't really doing just that!
My mom and I used to sing "La Cucaracha" together when I was young, but it wasn't until high school that I found out that we were singing about cockroaches and it wasn't until last week that I became more acquainted with them then I care to be. See, down here, we have "palmetto bugs", which is just a really nice way of saying "a cockroach the size of your head." They are huge, they are fast and they are everywhere at night. Returning home from the evening, they scurry from the porch light. I even saw one run across the road and I was standing at least ten feet away. Yeah, they're THAT big. And apparently quite abundant. We noticed what looked like very large ant traps in our kitchen and closet downstairs when we moved in and later realized they were cockroach traps.
We have yet to see one in the house (I'm furiously knocking on wood) but I know that it is inevitable and I'm bracing myself for it. I've seen horror stories of them scampering across people in their sleep. Someone even started a support group online for those who are deathly afraid of palmetto bugs. I may sign up.
By the way, I hear mosquito nets make GREAT Christmas gifts...
Oh, speaking of mosquitoes, they aren't necessarily bigger down here, but they are insanely voracious. The night we unloaded the truck and walked around the yard with our landlord, I ended up with 31 mosquito bites, all from the knee down! And when I get a mosquito bite, I might as well have poison ivy because I itch constantly. I tried calamine lotion, rubbing alcohol, Benedryl pills and creams - nothing worked.
Finally I went to Whole Foods in search of a natural remedy and as I'm looking at the various creams and gels with ingredients like tee tree oil and calendula, an employee walks up with a customer, grabs one of them off the shelf and says "here, this should do the trick." I glance over to see that the woman's legs were completely covered in bites like mine. Grateful for the gel the employee picked out she remarked how miserable she was and how she was up half the night. I immediately turned to her and said "me too!", had a bonding moment right there in the homeopathic medicine aisle, grabbed the same recommended gel and went home with high hopes. And you know what - it worked! Cooling and refreshing, I slabbed it on every two hours on the nose and managed to get a decent night's sleep. Although it was days before I was completely itch free, I highly recommend Bitecare Gel by Boiron. The calendula in it acts as a healing agent, they echinacea relieves inflammation and the ledum palustre (whatever that is) relieves pain and itching.
Curious and feeling brave (my bug-a-phobia appears to largely apply only to spiders) I walk over to get a closer look and just as I lean down to within two feet of it, it jumps half that distance right up in the air and straight at my face! Naturally I scream like a little girl while Nicole laughs and I decide I've had enough of mystery bug for one day and close the garage door.
Thanks to a visit from our landlord that evening, we learn that the mystery bug is commonly called a "cave cricket." Like its name implies, it primarily live in caves, but some do find their way to cool dark basements like ours. Further research told me that they are not from the same family as crickets and are found on every continent on the planet. According to Wikipedia, "Cave crickets have very large hind legs with 'drumstick-shape' femora and long, slender antennae. They are brownish in color and rather humpbacked in appearance, always wingless, and up to two inches long in body and 4 inches for the legs." The most interesting fact about cave crickets is since they live in deep dark caves where nothing else really exists, they often go for long periods of time without food and have been known to eat their own extremities. Next time you tell someone you're so hungry you could gnaw your own arm off, think of our little cave crickets and be grateful you aren't really doing just that!
My mom and I used to sing "La Cucaracha" together when I was young, but it wasn't until high school that I found out that we were singing about cockroaches and it wasn't until last week that I became more acquainted with them then I care to be. See, down here, we have "palmetto bugs", which is just a really nice way of saying "a cockroach the size of your head." They are huge, they are fast and they are everywhere at night. Returning home from the evening, they scurry from the porch light. I even saw one run across the road and I was standing at least ten feet away. Yeah, they're THAT big. And apparently quite abundant. We noticed what looked like very large ant traps in our kitchen and closet downstairs when we moved in and later realized they were cockroach traps.
We have yet to see one in the house (I'm furiously knocking on wood) but I know that it is inevitable and I'm bracing myself for it. I've seen horror stories of them scampering across people in their sleep. Someone even started a support group online for those who are deathly afraid of palmetto bugs. I may sign up.
By the way, I hear mosquito nets make GREAT Christmas gifts...
Oh, speaking of mosquitoes, they aren't necessarily bigger down here, but they are insanely voracious. The night we unloaded the truck and walked around the yard with our landlord, I ended up with 31 mosquito bites, all from the knee down! And when I get a mosquito bite, I might as well have poison ivy because I itch constantly. I tried calamine lotion, rubbing alcohol, Benedryl pills and creams - nothing worked.
Finally I went to Whole Foods in search of a natural remedy and as I'm looking at the various creams and gels with ingredients like tee tree oil and calendula, an employee walks up with a customer, grabs one of them off the shelf and says "here, this should do the trick." I glance over to see that the woman's legs were completely covered in bites like mine. Grateful for the gel the employee picked out she remarked how miserable she was and how she was up half the night. I immediately turned to her and said "me too!", had a bonding moment right there in the homeopathic medicine aisle, grabbed the same recommended gel and went home with high hopes. And you know what - it worked! Cooling and refreshing, I slabbed it on every two hours on the nose and managed to get a decent night's sleep. Although it was days before I was completely itch free, I highly recommend Bitecare Gel by Boiron. The calendula in it acts as a healing agent, they echinacea relieves inflammation and the ledum palustre (whatever that is) relieves pain and itching.
August 4, 2009
An Overwhelming Load
Waking up from our first night camping in our new home, we set out in search of what will prove to be our savior, our mecca, our shining beacon of light also known as Super Target. Seeing as the closest one to those of you in Michigan is in Indiana, you may not understand what Super Target is or why I sing its praises. Unfortunate. Why wouldn't they have Super Target in Michigan? I'm imagining little border patrol men armed with bazookas and shopping carts and big red Ms on their chests, defending the land of Meijer...
Not that I'm knocking Meijer. I was worried I would miss the convenience of one-stop shopping and low, low prices, but we were saved by the big red shiny Super Target. We already knew how amazing Target was. Take that and add to it amazing produce and groceries and their organic products from Archer Farms. (If you haven't tried the blue corn chips with flaxseed, you're really missing out). It's fun for everyone!
Proud of ourselves for finding our way there (with a map, NOT a GPS system, thank you very much!), we loaded up on some necessities and headed back to the house for some major cleaning. Not that the place was entirely filthy, but there were certainly some overlooked spots (the fridge is actually white! who knew?!?), almost all of which we cleaned with a bottle of vinegar left behind by the previous tenants. If you don't know the cleaning power of plain 'ol white distilled vinegar, let me tell you - that stuff works. Yes, I see a blog devoted to vinegar coming very soon...
Mom and Dennis arrived around 3:00pm with the bulk of our stuff in the truck and as we ate lunch on the back deck we pretended not to be completely exasperated by the task of unloading what took us four hours to load. Yet another downfall of not hiring movers and moving to a state where you know exactly two people - one of whom was back home visiting in Michigan, the other busy finishing her last week of PA school. Nicole emailed a desperate plea to her soon-to-be-classmates, whom she's never met, hoping to appeal to their good graces and desire to come meet some people who are also new to the area. She got a few bites, but not many and hardly any were definite.
I had been introduced via email to a friend of a friend of a friend who lives in Durham, Steve, also a Michigan transplant, who I regularly tried to bribe on facebook with promises of Oberon beer and Faygo Rock N Rye to come help us move. We had plenty of facebook messages going back and forth in which he assured he would come help, but you never really know with people you've never met. Luckily, Steve turned out to be a SAINT. Not only did he get out of work early and call me on his way over to see if we needed anything, he helped us unload for two straight hours and even brought us a "welcome to Durham" bag full of local products like apple butter, wine, and pickled okra. I happily handed over the Oberon and Faygo!
And not only did we have Steve, but five others from Nicole's class showed up to help! Together we unloaded boxes and furniture, amidst conversations centering around "where are you from?" and "when did you get here?" We were exhausted, yes. We were soaked with sweat, yes. But we were carried on by the generosity and camaraderie of those around us whom we'd only just met.
"Welcome to Durham", indeed!
Not that I'm knocking Meijer. I was worried I would miss the convenience of one-stop shopping and low, low prices, but we were saved by the big red shiny Super Target. We already knew how amazing Target was. Take that and add to it amazing produce and groceries and their organic products from Archer Farms. (If you haven't tried the blue corn chips with flaxseed, you're really missing out). It's fun for everyone!
Proud of ourselves for finding our way there (with a map, NOT a GPS system, thank you very much!), we loaded up on some necessities and headed back to the house for some major cleaning. Not that the place was entirely filthy, but there were certainly some overlooked spots (the fridge is actually white! who knew?!?), almost all of which we cleaned with a bottle of vinegar left behind by the previous tenants. If you don't know the cleaning power of plain 'ol white distilled vinegar, let me tell you - that stuff works. Yes, I see a blog devoted to vinegar coming very soon...
Mom and Dennis arrived around 3:00pm with the bulk of our stuff in the truck and as we ate lunch on the back deck we pretended not to be completely exasperated by the task of unloading what took us four hours to load. Yet another downfall of not hiring movers and moving to a state where you know exactly two people - one of whom was back home visiting in Michigan, the other busy finishing her last week of PA school. Nicole emailed a desperate plea to her soon-to-be-classmates, whom she's never met, hoping to appeal to their good graces and desire to come meet some people who are also new to the area. She got a few bites, but not many and hardly any were definite.
I had been introduced via email to a friend of a friend of a friend who lives in Durham, Steve, also a Michigan transplant, who I regularly tried to bribe on facebook with promises of Oberon beer and Faygo Rock N Rye to come help us move. We had plenty of facebook messages going back and forth in which he assured he would come help, but you never really know with people you've never met. Luckily, Steve turned out to be a SAINT. Not only did he get out of work early and call me on his way over to see if we needed anything, he helped us unload for two straight hours and even brought us a "welcome to Durham" bag full of local products like apple butter, wine, and pickled okra. I happily handed over the Oberon and Faygo!
And not only did we have Steve, but five others from Nicole's class showed up to help! Together we unloaded boxes and furniture, amidst conversations centering around "where are you from?" and "when did you get here?" We were exhausted, yes. We were soaked with sweat, yes. But we were carried on by the generosity and camaraderie of those around us whom we'd only just met.
"Welcome to Durham", indeed!
August 3, 2009
Arriving in Durham
After four grueling hours of loading the truck and 12 long hours of carvanning down I-77, (Nicole leading, myself and the cats dutifully following) we pulled up to our new home in Durham. The drive was mostly, and thankfully, uneventful. The occasional inquisitive cry from Cessna, our calico, and the jamming road trip tunes emanating from my speakers were the only sounds to be heard as we coasted by small Ohio towns and winded through the mountains of Virginia and West Virginia where we saw signs for "Jesus' Camp in the Hills" (quite different from Jesus' Camp in the Desert, I'm sure) and "Outdoor Drama" (thanks, but I like to keep my drama indoors...)
Eventually we crossed the North Carolina line, where at that VERY instant, my iPod rang out with Melissa Ferrick's "North Carolina." I'm not making that up. Just one of many signs that we took as proof that we are where we are meant to be.
"...a mile and a half off the tracks in Raleigh, North Carolina, with my foot all jammed up from driving 14 hours and my body can't sit upright..." I know how Melissa feels...
With just enough time to get the cats and our clothes inside the house before dark fell, we sat cross-legged on the hard wood floor of our new living room, feasted on burritos and tacos from Chipotle (one of the only places we knew how to get to that was open so late on a Sunday night) and grinned at each other in disbelief. Are we really here? After months of fears and worries, of laughter and tears, of second guessing and excitement, we did it. Holy crap, we actually did it!
With the magnitude of the move and the work yet to be done not quite sinking in, we blow up the air mattress and camp for the night in this undiscovered wilderness that is our new home.
Eventually we crossed the North Carolina line, where at that VERY instant, my iPod rang out with Melissa Ferrick's "North Carolina." I'm not making that up. Just one of many signs that we took as proof that we are where we are meant to be.
"...a mile and a half off the tracks in Raleigh, North Carolina, with my foot all jammed up from driving 14 hours and my body can't sit upright..." I know how Melissa feels...
With just enough time to get the cats and our clothes inside the house before dark fell, we sat cross-legged on the hard wood floor of our new living room, feasted on burritos and tacos from Chipotle (one of the only places we knew how to get to that was open so late on a Sunday night) and grinned at each other in disbelief. Are we really here? After months of fears and worries, of laughter and tears, of second guessing and excitement, we did it. Holy crap, we actually did it!
With the magnitude of the move and the work yet to be done not quite sinking in, we blow up the air mattress and camp for the night in this undiscovered wilderness that is our new home.
July 30, 2009
Taking off (from) the mitten
I can't believe the day is finally here! I've longed to leave Michigan, to live in a new state, to explore new places and enjoy a respite from the bitter cold of a Michigan winter, but now that the time has finally come for me to leave, it's certainly bittersweet. I will miss this home state of mine. My family was born and has lived here for generations. In fact, my grandma just moved back to Michigan after nearly 20 years retirement in Florida.
I'll miss my friends and co-workers, new and old. I'll miss my volleyball teams and my spinning and yoga comrades and instructors. I'll miss biking to work (though I won't miss the rude drivers!). I'll miss walking around downtown Ann Arbor, sipping a margarita outside at Prickly Pear, browsing through Falling Water, eating Aloo Palak at Madras Masala. Concerts at the Ark and movies at the Michigan.
I'll miss the beaches of Lake Michigan, my favorite place in the world, a place I've always found solace and peace. I'll miss the changing colors and driving through the tunnel of trees near Traverse City and Petoskey. I'll miss the Mighty Mac and my favorite lighthouse. I'll miss biking around Mackinac Island, eating fudge and hearing the clip clop of horses.
I'll miss Detroit sports and the motor city. I'll miss ice sculpture festivals (yes I realize it has to be cold for these to happen) and drinking hot cocoa after snowshoeing.
I was just saying yesterday that I feel a sense of loyalty to Michigan. It's been good to me and my family over the years and I do what I can to give back. I feel guilty "jumping ship" with so many people leaving the state because of the poor economic conditions and the tank of the automobile industry. Part of me wants to stay to help rebuild, to take pride in our state, to buy local and build it back to what it once was. I see the potential the mitten has. And it's good.
But for now, my calling is elsewhere and I'm excited to explore, meet new people, discover new places and have adventures. I'll dip my toes in the ocean, bike to the Duke gardens and hike through the Smokies in the coming months. But I know one thing is for sure... My heart will always be in Michigan.
I'll miss my friends and co-workers, new and old. I'll miss my volleyball teams and my spinning and yoga comrades and instructors. I'll miss biking to work (though I won't miss the rude drivers!). I'll miss walking around downtown Ann Arbor, sipping a margarita outside at Prickly Pear, browsing through Falling Water, eating Aloo Palak at Madras Masala. Concerts at the Ark and movies at the Michigan.
I'll miss the beaches of Lake Michigan, my favorite place in the world, a place I've always found solace and peace. I'll miss the changing colors and driving through the tunnel of trees near Traverse City and Petoskey. I'll miss the Mighty Mac and my favorite lighthouse. I'll miss biking around Mackinac Island, eating fudge and hearing the clip clop of horses.
I'll miss Detroit sports and the motor city. I'll miss ice sculpture festivals (yes I realize it has to be cold for these to happen) and drinking hot cocoa after snowshoeing.
I was just saying yesterday that I feel a sense of loyalty to Michigan. It's been good to me and my family over the years and I do what I can to give back. I feel guilty "jumping ship" with so many people leaving the state because of the poor economic conditions and the tank of the automobile industry. Part of me wants to stay to help rebuild, to take pride in our state, to buy local and build it back to what it once was. I see the potential the mitten has. And it's good.
But for now, my calling is elsewhere and I'm excited to explore, meet new people, discover new places and have adventures. I'll dip my toes in the ocean, bike to the Duke gardens and hike through the Smokies in the coming months. But I know one thing is for sure... My heart will always be in Michigan.
June 5, 2009
May 15, 2009
I Hate Running and Other Reasons to Run a Tri
I dislike running. It's monotonous, it's slow, it's damn tiring and it gives me way too much of an opportunity to ruminate in the fact that I hate it. With every step I hear a mantra of hate, pain, dread, and boredom. The pavement jars my joints, cracks in the sidewalk wait silently in my path for their chance to trip me, it takes me ten minutes to reach the same damn lamp post I've been staring at for the past mile and my lungs want to burst out of my chest - seriously - what's not to love?
So why am I doing it every other day? To finish my first triathlon and not be carried away in an ambulance.
Why do I tri? For several reasons...the challenge of new activities and experiences...the competition with myself, and as I get better at the sport, with others...the camaraderie between women of all ages, sizes and athletic ability encouraging each other to keep working toward the finish line. If nothing else, simply for the chance to prove to myself that I can do it.
So those are the serious, heartfelt reasons to run a triathlon, but there are several other reasons that I would have never known about until I had "tri"ed myself.
Top Ten Reasons to Run a Triathlon
10. To learn the power of positive self talk. "I will not drown, I will not drown..."
9. For the free water, bananas, trial-size peanut butter and t-shirt.
8. To perfect the art of saying "excuse me, I'm sorry" with your face underwater.
7. So photographers can catch you rounding the corner looking like Lance Armstrong.
6. Because you haven't experience biking until you've done it in wet bike shorts.
5. Because you look positively stunning in black permanent marker.
4. To never come in last place (that's reserved for the sponsor athlete)
3. For the green light to eat anything you want since you're "in training."
2. For the cool medal.
And the number 1 reason to run a triathlon...
1. You get to keep your swim cap to wear at parties and impress your friends.
So why am I doing it every other day? To finish my first triathlon and not be carried away in an ambulance.
Why do I tri? For several reasons...the challenge of new activities and experiences...the competition with myself, and as I get better at the sport, with others...the camaraderie between women of all ages, sizes and athletic ability encouraging each other to keep working toward the finish line. If nothing else, simply for the chance to prove to myself that I can do it.
So those are the serious, heartfelt reasons to run a triathlon, but there are several other reasons that I would have never known about until I had "tri"ed myself.
Top Ten Reasons to Run a Triathlon
10. To learn the power of positive self talk. "I will not drown, I will not drown..."
9. For the free water, bananas, trial-size peanut butter and t-shirt.
8. To perfect the art of saying "excuse me, I'm sorry" with your face underwater.
7. So photographers can catch you rounding the corner looking like Lance Armstrong.
6. Because you haven't experience biking until you've done it in wet bike shorts.
5. Because you look positively stunning in black permanent marker.
4. To never come in last place (that's reserved for the sponsor athlete)
3. For the green light to eat anything you want since you're "in training."
2. For the cool medal.
And the number 1 reason to run a triathlon...
1. You get to keep your swim cap to wear at parties and impress your friends.
A Long Three Months
I knew I was crazy for signing up for this race without even knowing how to swim, but I didn't fully realize the amount of time I would have to put in for training until I actually started training. Every day I was running, swimming or biking, sometimes both, before and after work, volleyball, and hockey. Half of the time my lungs screamed, my muscles ached and my body hated me for what I was putting it through. The other half of the time I was more or less a zombie going through the motions, following my training schedule, getting that 23-minute swim in before the pool closed at 10pm on a Monday night. I had time for nothing else. I'm lucky that most of my friends supported my training and understood my neglect.
I suffered injuries and setbacks that I hadn't planned for. My torn MCL in my left knee set me back weeks and then I was only allowed to swim and bike for another two weeks before I could attempt to run again. A brief stint of tendinitis in my patellar tendon in my right knee from volleyball suddenly sprung into play and strained ligaments in my right foot thanks to an hour-and-a-half-long African dance class made me limp for a good two weeks and curbed my running once again. And it seemed like every time I went swimming I ended up with a sinus infection or a nasty cold. Migraines, cramps, stomach flu - you name it, I pretty much had it during that three months!
And there were tears. It seemed as if every time I started to gain momentum in my training, something would happen to set me back and make me work a little harder and start all over again; as if someone was telling me that simply training for the race would be too easy, that somehow I needed a bigger challenge.
I persevered. I found strength in my goal of finishing the race and in my resolve to be a part of something bigger than myself. And when I couldn't find that strength, I had someone training next to me pushing me to fight and encouraging me to keep going. Even though my "just go on without me" attitude got the best of me at times, she wouldn't leave my side and I honestly couldn't have done it without her. When I crossed the finish line last Sunday and she flung her arms around me screaming "you did it!" tears stung my eyes and I was more joyful than I ever remember being.
It was a long and challenging three months in preparation for 113 minutes of sweat and ten seconds of complete and utter joy. And worth every second of it.
I suffered injuries and setbacks that I hadn't planned for. My torn MCL in my left knee set me back weeks and then I was only allowed to swim and bike for another two weeks before I could attempt to run again. A brief stint of tendinitis in my patellar tendon in my right knee from volleyball suddenly sprung into play and strained ligaments in my right foot thanks to an hour-and-a-half-long African dance class made me limp for a good two weeks and curbed my running once again. And it seemed like every time I went swimming I ended up with a sinus infection or a nasty cold. Migraines, cramps, stomach flu - you name it, I pretty much had it during that three months!
And there were tears. It seemed as if every time I started to gain momentum in my training, something would happen to set me back and make me work a little harder and start all over again; as if someone was telling me that simply training for the race would be too easy, that somehow I needed a bigger challenge.
I persevered. I found strength in my goal of finishing the race and in my resolve to be a part of something bigger than myself. And when I couldn't find that strength, I had someone training next to me pushing me to fight and encouraging me to keep going. Even though my "just go on without me" attitude got the best of me at times, she wouldn't leave my side and I honestly couldn't have done it without her. When I crossed the finish line last Sunday and she flung her arms around me screaming "you did it!" tears stung my eyes and I was more joyful than I ever remember being.
It was a long and challenging three months in preparation for 113 minutes of sweat and ten seconds of complete and utter joy. And worth every second of it.
A Look Back at Week One of Training
This is a short entry I wrote after my first week of training for the tri back in February. A week later I fell in hockey and tore my MCL and my training took a serious halt even though it had hardly begun! (See my February entry entitled "MCL - My Crappy Ligament")
WEEK ONE
I'm in my first week of training and I'm exhausted! Swimming is a thousand times harder than running and I can barely do two laps! I can't remember ever being this winded, my heart pounding this fast - and I'm not even sweating. Yeah, swimming is tough. There's so much to remember - the stroke, the kick, the breathing, all while trying to stay afloat. It's like running a marathon and you're only allowed to breathe every four steps and when you do get to breathe, you get half a second to get as much air as possible into your lungs before they are filled with water and you drown. Good times.
I do like the floaties though, especially the fun curvy one that fits between my thighs so I can work on proper arm form. I fly with that thing between my legs! (I realize that last sentence opens me up for a few jokes) But it's true. If I could swim the entire race with the floatie and just my arms, I'd be golden.
Running this week got progressively harder. I think it's because the first time I ran my body had forgotten how much it hates to run but by the second run, its memory was fully restored. Still, I gasped my way through 25 minutes thanks to my awesome, kick ass playlist.
Biking was a piece o' cake. :-)
Week one down, 13 to go!
WEEK ONE
I'm in my first week of training and I'm exhausted! Swimming is a thousand times harder than running and I can barely do two laps! I can't remember ever being this winded, my heart pounding this fast - and I'm not even sweating. Yeah, swimming is tough. There's so much to remember - the stroke, the kick, the breathing, all while trying to stay afloat. It's like running a marathon and you're only allowed to breathe every four steps and when you do get to breathe, you get half a second to get as much air as possible into your lungs before they are filled with water and you drown. Good times.
I do like the floaties though, especially the fun curvy one that fits between my thighs so I can work on proper arm form. I fly with that thing between my legs! (I realize that last sentence opens me up for a few jokes) But it's true. If I could swim the entire race with the floatie and just my arms, I'd be golden.
Running this week got progressively harder. I think it's because the first time I ran my body had forgotten how much it hates to run but by the second run, its memory was fully restored. Still, I gasped my way through 25 minutes thanks to my awesome, kick ass playlist.
Biking was a piece o' cake. :-)
Week one down, 13 to go!
Back II Life
Back to life... Back to reality... Back to the here and now, yeah...
I'm a disgrace to the world of blogging. Two entries for April!? Two!? Sigh... All I can offer is my sincerest apologies to all three of you who read this blog and beg for your forgiveness and understanding. For the past two to three months my days have consisted of waking up, working, training, sleeping and repeating in preparation for my first triathlon race which took place just five days ago. I'll be blogging about my training and the race in upcoming posts, but for now, I'll just say that I'm sorry that I've neglected everything in my life that didn't have to do with swimming, biking and running, including my friends and this blog, and that I vow to get back to life starting...now. :-)
I'm a disgrace to the world of blogging. Two entries for April!? Two!? Sigh... All I can offer is my sincerest apologies to all three of you who read this blog and beg for your forgiveness and understanding. For the past two to three months my days have consisted of waking up, working, training, sleeping and repeating in preparation for my first triathlon race which took place just five days ago. I'll be blogging about my training and the race in upcoming posts, but for now, I'll just say that I'm sorry that I've neglected everything in my life that didn't have to do with swimming, biking and running, including my friends and this blog, and that I vow to get back to life starting...now. :-)
April 22, 2009
That's One Way to Celebrate Earth Day...
Some people plant trees for Earth Day, some grow them... inside...
Last week a 28-year-old Russian man complained of chest pain and a horrible cough and x-rays showed that he had a mass in his lungs. His doctors thought the mass was indicative of cancer and operated, but what they found was something quite unexpected.
Just before the surgeon removed half of this young man's lung, he decided to stop and do a biopsy of the mass first. Well praise Allah, thank the Lord, etc. he did that because the man didn't have cancer after all. Nope... he had a tree branch GROWING in his lungs. The branch was about five centimeters long! The spiky needles of the evergreen were piercing capillaries in his lungs, causing severe pain and blood when he coughed.
Scientists think the man must have inhaled a spore that germinated in his lungs and began to sprout a tree. And you thought you had allergies!
A strange phenomenon to be sure, but not as strange as the infamous "Tree Man", Dede Kasawa, an Indonesian fisherman who's hands and feet have literally sprouted branches. His body was slowly overtaken by the wart- and branch-like growths causing him much pain and suffering over the past seven years. Baffled by his condition, a dermatologist finally pinpointed that the Human Papoloma Virus (HPV) was at the "root" of his troubles and after nine months of operations and the removal of 13 pounds of warts from his body, Dede regained the use of his hands. Unfortunately, his warts started to reappear within the year and doctors reported that he would have to undergo surgery twice a year for the rest of his life to keep the warts at bay. Apparently he has what's called epidermodysplasia verruciformis, an abnormal susceptibility to HPVs of the skin. Don't believe me? Check this out.
So on this Earth Day 2009, plant a tree, inhale one, or heck, become one, but do your part.
More useful earthy, green tips to come later this month. :-)
Last week a 28-year-old Russian man complained of chest pain and a horrible cough and x-rays showed that he had a mass in his lungs. His doctors thought the mass was indicative of cancer and operated, but what they found was something quite unexpected.
Just before the surgeon removed half of this young man's lung, he decided to stop and do a biopsy of the mass first. Well praise Allah, thank the Lord, etc. he did that because the man didn't have cancer after all. Nope... he had a tree branch GROWING in his lungs. The branch was about five centimeters long! The spiky needles of the evergreen were piercing capillaries in his lungs, causing severe pain and blood when he coughed.
Scientists think the man must have inhaled a spore that germinated in his lungs and began to sprout a tree. And you thought you had allergies!
A strange phenomenon to be sure, but not as strange as the infamous "Tree Man", Dede Kasawa, an Indonesian fisherman who's hands and feet have literally sprouted branches. His body was slowly overtaken by the wart- and branch-like growths causing him much pain and suffering over the past seven years. Baffled by his condition, a dermatologist finally pinpointed that the Human Papoloma Virus (HPV) was at the "root" of his troubles and after nine months of operations and the removal of 13 pounds of warts from his body, Dede regained the use of his hands. Unfortunately, his warts started to reappear within the year and doctors reported that he would have to undergo surgery twice a year for the rest of his life to keep the warts at bay. Apparently he has what's called epidermodysplasia verruciformis, an abnormal susceptibility to HPVs of the skin. Don't believe me? Check this out.
So on this Earth Day 2009, plant a tree, inhale one, or heck, become one, but do your part.
More useful earthy, green tips to come later this month. :-)
April 1, 2009
April Foolin
This is for Kim...
Though not a true holiday, April Fool's Day is celebrated the world over. Kids pull pranks on their parents, co-workers play jokes on each other, wives dupe their husbands, all in the name of April 1. But why? Where does this strange holiday come from?
Truth is - no one really knows. But there are plenty of theories. The most accepted theory has something to do with calendars - much like my explanation of the Ides of March last month. Not too exciting, but apparently, way back in the 17th century, folks used to celebrate the New Year between March 25th and April 1st until the Christians came along and decided to change the calendar so that holidays coincided with important biblical dates. The new year then became January 1st as we know it, which is said to be the date of Jesus' circumcision. This might explain the heavy drinking...
As you may expect, there were some who didn't agree to follow the new calendar right away. Can you imagine if, in his next address to the nation, Barack said, "I've decided that Valentine's Day is too close to Christmas, so for now on, please celebrate your love on April 14th." Ok, maybe that isn't the BEST example since many argue that February 14th is nothing but a holiday spawned by the greeting card industry, but you catch my drift.
So yes, some people didn't stop celebrating the new year around the first of April and they were thus ridiculed and called April Fools. And some think that was how it all began..
Other theories of the origin of April Fools Day (and here I have to pause for a moment - is it April Fool's Day, April Fools' Day or April Fools day, because I have seen it all three ways) include, again going centuries back, that May 1st was celebrated as the first day of summer and when spring planting began so that anyone who planted early was an April Fool and that Noah sent the raven out too early (before the waters had receded) on the first day of the month of the Hebrew calendar that corresponds with April, thus making him an April fool.
Whatever the origin, April Fools/Fool's/Fools' Day is the perfect occasion to magnify the gullibility of those you love. Go forth and prank.
Though not a true holiday, April Fool's Day is celebrated the world over. Kids pull pranks on their parents, co-workers play jokes on each other, wives dupe their husbands, all in the name of April 1. But why? Where does this strange holiday come from?
Truth is - no one really knows. But there are plenty of theories. The most accepted theory has something to do with calendars - much like my explanation of the Ides of March last month. Not too exciting, but apparently, way back in the 17th century, folks used to celebrate the New Year between March 25th and April 1st until the Christians came along and decided to change the calendar so that holidays coincided with important biblical dates. The new year then became January 1st as we know it, which is said to be the date of Jesus' circumcision. This might explain the heavy drinking...
As you may expect, there were some who didn't agree to follow the new calendar right away. Can you imagine if, in his next address to the nation, Barack said, "I've decided that Valentine's Day is too close to Christmas, so for now on, please celebrate your love on April 14th." Ok, maybe that isn't the BEST example since many argue that February 14th is nothing but a holiday spawned by the greeting card industry, but you catch my drift.
So yes, some people didn't stop celebrating the new year around the first of April and they were thus ridiculed and called April Fools. And some think that was how it all began..
Other theories of the origin of April Fools Day (and here I have to pause for a moment - is it April Fool's Day, April Fools' Day or April Fools day, because I have seen it all three ways) include, again going centuries back, that May 1st was celebrated as the first day of summer and when spring planting began so that anyone who planted early was an April Fool and that Noah sent the raven out too early (before the waters had receded) on the first day of the month of the Hebrew calendar that corresponds with April, thus making him an April fool.
Whatever the origin, April Fools/Fool's/Fools' Day is the perfect occasion to magnify the gullibility of those you love. Go forth and prank.
March 15, 2009
The Eyes of March?
Beware the eyes of March? Beware the hides of March? Huh? Oh, beware the IDES of March... yeah, 'cause that makes sense...
Nicole and I are in the car on a Sunday afternoon and I realize it's March 1st. Remarking that it's March already, Nicole agrees and says "beware the ides of March!" We sit in silence for a few seconds before she admits, "I have no idea what that means..." Neither do I, I say, except that I know it's March 15th and has something to do with Caesar.
Later that night we mention it to friends who also know that the ides of March is the 15th of the month and they think Caesar might have been killed on that day. Ahhh... Yeah, still not making much sense to us! Although we do warn our friend Caesar just in case and she said she dutifully stays at home with a baseball bat that day.
Like we do with everything we want to know more about, we google it. (This past week alone we googled "big blue arches on I-94," "ACC tournament 2009," "life is good grow," and "March madness 2009.")
I heart google. We google everything.
So, in case you also wondered, the ides of March is March 15th and the saying "beware the ides of March" does indeed refer to the day that Caesar was killed. Apparently a soothsayer warned Caesar that he would meet his peril on that day, but Caesar didn't listen and walked right into an ambush and was murdered.
But the ides wasn't always a terrible day. In the Roman calendar, the "ides" of a month simply referred to the 13th or the 15th of the month when the moon was full. It just so happened that way back in 44 B.C. some big political figure in another part of the world was murdered on the ides. If it had been a few months later, we'd be saying "beware the ides of June."
Yep, that's it. Not very exciting, is it? I think I'll start saying "Happy Ides Day!" instead. I think it's high time March 15th stopped getting such a bad rep.
Nicole and I are in the car on a Sunday afternoon and I realize it's March 1st. Remarking that it's March already, Nicole agrees and says "beware the ides of March!" We sit in silence for a few seconds before she admits, "I have no idea what that means..." Neither do I, I say, except that I know it's March 15th and has something to do with Caesar.
Later that night we mention it to friends who also know that the ides of March is the 15th of the month and they think Caesar might have been killed on that day. Ahhh... Yeah, still not making much sense to us! Although we do warn our friend Caesar just in case and she said she dutifully stays at home with a baseball bat that day.
Like we do with everything we want to know more about, we google it. (This past week alone we googled "big blue arches on I-94," "ACC tournament 2009," "life is good grow," and "March madness 2009.")
I heart google. We google everything.
So, in case you also wondered, the ides of March is March 15th and the saying "beware the ides of March" does indeed refer to the day that Caesar was killed. Apparently a soothsayer warned Caesar that he would meet his peril on that day, but Caesar didn't listen and walked right into an ambush and was murdered.
But the ides wasn't always a terrible day. In the Roman calendar, the "ides" of a month simply referred to the 13th or the 15th of the month when the moon was full. It just so happened that way back in 44 B.C. some big political figure in another part of the world was murdered on the ides. If it had been a few months later, we'd be saying "beware the ides of June."
Yep, that's it. Not very exciting, is it? I think I'll start saying "Happy Ides Day!" instead. I think it's high time March 15th stopped getting such a bad rep.
March 10, 2009
Barbie looks good for 50
I loved Barbie. I dressed her in all of her fabulous outfits and dreamed of owning the gargantuan Barbie dream house and her pink Corvette convertible. But it wasn't all glitz and glamor with me, my Barbie flipped burgers and made milkshakes at McDonald's. She had secret rendezvous with Ken and was a role model for younger sister Skipper. And she was kind and humane to my entire stable of My Little Ponies.
Barbie, or Barbara Millicent Roberts as she is officially named, is an icon of American culture and has been a part of most girls' young lives for 50 years. Making her debut in March of 1959, she's seen a lot of changes. In 1971, her eyes were changed to look forward rather than demurely to the side. In 2000, Barbie gave Gore a run for his money when she ran for president (and even spawned voting booths in Toys R' Us stores for children to vote for their favorite candidate!) In 2004, Mattel announced that there was trouble in paradise and that Barbie and Ken had gone their separate ways, but were lovingly reunited in 2006. Released this year, Totally Stylin' Tattoos Barbie comes with a set of more than 40 tiny tattoo stickers that can be placed on her body and a faux tattoo gun with wash-off tats.
In honor of her 50th anniversary, Mattel has released a doll similar to the original. The doll features a new face with a more natural look, including a thinner jaw line, more almond-shaped eyes, fuller lips and a softer makeup palette, with shimmery pink lip shades and neutral eye colors. The new doll sports a two-piece black-and-white bikini trimmed with Barbie’s signature color pink, pink hoop earrings, a ponytail and, given how trendy she always is, a cell phone.
Look at the difference between the two. She may be an unrealistic depiction of an American woman, but you have to admit that she certainly does a good job of representing the changes in beauty women have gone through in the past 50 years. She's taller, she tanner, she's leaner, she's not as all-American.
We've all heard the Barbie backlash. Her body is so distorted that she would have to walk on all fours and wouldn't have enough body fat to menstruate if she were alive. Her pink scale reads 110 pounds, and since she's manufactured on a 1/16 scale, she would be 5'9" in real life and therefore 35% underweight. She's a horrible choice of toy for a young girl coming of age and coming to terms with her body. While I agree with all of this wholeheartedly, more than some of you know, I also think that, like Barbie's 44D chest, it's been blown way out of proportion. What little girl wants a toy that looks like a real woman with wrinkles and love handles and cellulite? I mean really - why do we go see movies? Not because we always want to see someone who looks just like us who's stressed out about mortgage payments, we want to see a beautiful woman find the love of her life or a big muscly man save the world. Movies are fantasy worlds for adults just as toys are fantasy worlds for children. What boy wants to play with a matchbox car that's a 1997 Saturn? So he can imagine himself at 40 years old with a dead end job and a gym membership he doesn't use? No, he wants a red Ferrari! So he can imagine himself as a super cool guy with lots of money and friends and everything he could ever want.
So perhaps we should give Barbie a break and see her for what she is - a total babe with a million dollar home and a pink corvette.
Barbie, or Barbara Millicent Roberts as she is officially named, is an icon of American culture and has been a part of most girls' young lives for 50 years. Making her debut in March of 1959, she's seen a lot of changes. In 1971, her eyes were changed to look forward rather than demurely to the side. In 2000, Barbie gave Gore a run for his money when she ran for president (and even spawned voting booths in Toys R' Us stores for children to vote for their favorite candidate!) In 2004, Mattel announced that there was trouble in paradise and that Barbie and Ken had gone their separate ways, but were lovingly reunited in 2006. Released this year, Totally Stylin' Tattoos Barbie comes with a set of more than 40 tiny tattoo stickers that can be placed on her body and a faux tattoo gun with wash-off tats.
In honor of her 50th anniversary, Mattel has released a doll similar to the original. The doll features a new face with a more natural look, including a thinner jaw line, more almond-shaped eyes, fuller lips and a softer makeup palette, with shimmery pink lip shades and neutral eye colors. The new doll sports a two-piece black-and-white bikini trimmed with Barbie’s signature color pink, pink hoop earrings, a ponytail and, given how trendy she always is, a cell phone.
Look at the difference between the two. She may be an unrealistic depiction of an American woman, but you have to admit that she certainly does a good job of representing the changes in beauty women have gone through in the past 50 years. She's taller, she tanner, she's leaner, she's not as all-American.
We've all heard the Barbie backlash. Her body is so distorted that she would have to walk on all fours and wouldn't have enough body fat to menstruate if she were alive. Her pink scale reads 110 pounds, and since she's manufactured on a 1/16 scale, she would be 5'9" in real life and therefore 35% underweight. She's a horrible choice of toy for a young girl coming of age and coming to terms with her body. While I agree with all of this wholeheartedly, more than some of you know, I also think that, like Barbie's 44D chest, it's been blown way out of proportion. What little girl wants a toy that looks like a real woman with wrinkles and love handles and cellulite? I mean really - why do we go see movies? Not because we always want to see someone who looks just like us who's stressed out about mortgage payments, we want to see a beautiful woman find the love of her life or a big muscly man save the world. Movies are fantasy worlds for adults just as toys are fantasy worlds for children. What boy wants to play with a matchbox car that's a 1997 Saturn? So he can imagine himself at 40 years old with a dead end job and a gym membership he doesn't use? No, he wants a red Ferrari! So he can imagine himself as a super cool guy with lots of money and friends and everything he could ever want.
So perhaps we should give Barbie a break and see her for what she is - a total babe with a million dollar home and a pink corvette.
My life is a song...or ten
Sometimes I imagine my life has a soundtrack.
There's a perfect song for every situation, every feeling, every emotion, every struggle, every triumph...ok you get the picture. So if my life did have a soundtrack, I think it would look something like this.
Mel goes through a break up: "Everything You Want," Vertical Horizon
Mel does what she wants: "My Prerogative," Bobby Brown
Mel enjoys being single: "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," Cindi Lauper
Mel is bored: "The Thrill is Gone," B.B. King
Mel is worried: "Let It Be," The Beatles
Mel is thankful for her friends: "That's What Friends Are For," Dionne Warwick & Friends
Mel is stuck in traffic: "Move Bitch," Ludacris
Mel is on deadline: "Under Pressure," David Bowie and Queen
Mel gives in: "Whatever You Want," Vienna Teng
Mel waits for someone: "My Doorbell," The White Stripes
Mel watches the evening news: "What's Going On," Marvin Gaye
Mel goes on a cruise: "Fantastic Voyage," Coolio
Mel is in a crowded place: "Don't Stand So Close," The Police
Mel returns from cruise: "Back to Life," Soul II Soul
Mel travels to the South: "In God's Country," U2
Mel feels holy: "I Say a Little Prayer," Dionne Warwick
Mel is alone in the afternoon and wishing she wasn't: "Afternoon Delight," Starland Vocal Band
Mel is out for a ride: "Bicycle Race," Queen
Mel can't catch a break: "Rain," Patti Griffin
Mel makes her famous scrambled eggs: "Beat It," Michael Jackson
Mel sees through all the facades: "True Colors," Cindi Lauper
Mel wants to know the truth: "Straight Up," Paula Abdul
Mel realizes that nothing is perfect: "Every Rose Has Its Thorn," Poison
Mel recovers: "Broken Wings," Mr. Mister
Mel meets Nicole: "Awake," Secondhand Serenade
Mel falls for Nicole: "Endless Love," Lionel Richie and Diana Ross
Mel meditates (or her downstairs neighbors are not home): "Enjoy the Silence," Depeche Mode
Mel keeps swimming: "Survivor," Destiny's Child
Mel is happy: “Walking on Sunshine,” Katrina & The Waves
There's a perfect song for every situation, every feeling, every emotion, every struggle, every triumph...ok you get the picture. So if my life did have a soundtrack, I think it would look something like this.
Mel goes through a break up: "Everything You Want," Vertical Horizon
Mel does what she wants: "My Prerogative," Bobby Brown
Mel enjoys being single: "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," Cindi Lauper
Mel is bored: "The Thrill is Gone," B.B. King
Mel is worried: "Let It Be," The Beatles
Mel is thankful for her friends: "That's What Friends Are For," Dionne Warwick & Friends
Mel is stuck in traffic: "Move Bitch," Ludacris
Mel is on deadline: "Under Pressure," David Bowie and Queen
Mel gives in: "Whatever You Want," Vienna Teng
Mel waits for someone: "My Doorbell," The White Stripes
Mel watches the evening news: "What's Going On," Marvin Gaye
Mel goes on a cruise: "Fantastic Voyage," Coolio
Mel is in a crowded place: "Don't Stand So Close," The Police
Mel returns from cruise: "Back to Life," Soul II Soul
Mel travels to the South: "In God's Country," U2
Mel feels holy: "I Say a Little Prayer," Dionne Warwick
Mel is alone in the afternoon and wishing she wasn't: "Afternoon Delight," Starland Vocal Band
Mel is out for a ride: "Bicycle Race," Queen
Mel can't catch a break: "Rain," Patti Griffin
Mel makes her famous scrambled eggs: "Beat It," Michael Jackson
Mel sees through all the facades: "True Colors," Cindi Lauper
Mel wants to know the truth: "Straight Up," Paula Abdul
Mel realizes that nothing is perfect: "Every Rose Has Its Thorn," Poison
Mel recovers: "Broken Wings," Mr. Mister
Mel meets Nicole: "Awake," Secondhand Serenade
Mel falls for Nicole: "Endless Love," Lionel Richie and Diana Ross
Mel meditates (or her downstairs neighbors are not home): "Enjoy the Silence," Depeche Mode
Mel keeps swimming: "Survivor," Destiny's Child
Mel is happy: “Walking on Sunshine,” Katrina & The Waves
February 26, 2009
V-Day
For many women, February means candy hearts and flowers for Valentine's Day, but for some women, the month of February brings a different V-Day - a movement to end violence against women.
Started ten years ago by feminist Eve Ensler, V-day (www.vday.org) has grown from a national to a global campaign to increase awareness and raise money for anti-violence organizations. V-Day generates broader attention for the fight to stop violence against women and girls, including rape, battery, incest, female genital mutilation (FGM) and sexual slavery.
Largely done through creative events such as spoken word, plays and films, local activists and college students participate in the events. In 2008, over 4000 V-Day benefit events took place produced by volunteer activists in the U.S. and around the world, educating millions of people about the reality of violence against women and girls.
I recently attended one of these events when I saw The Vagina Monologues performed by University of Michigan students on campus. The Vagina Monologues were a result of several interviews conducted by Eve Ensler and others of various women from different backgrounds, cultures and socio-economic status. The interviews resulted in stories of all kinds - some that made me laugh out loud like the elderly woman who had never "looked down THERE" before, and others that made me cry like the Bosnian woman who was ripped open with the force of a gun inside her. In a world of violence and television images that we've become numb to, art and performance provide a vehicle to connect with people, to open their eyes to what's happening all around us.
Tonight I will attend another V-Day performance in Ferndale, a play written by Eve Ensler called Necessary Targets. Eve traveled to Bosnia to interview female refugees who had been brutally raped and beaten during the war. Their stories of love and community in the face of such brutality inspired Eve to write the play.
Necessary Targets runs tonight at 7:30 at the Ringwald Theater in Ferndale and proceeds benefit HAVEN in Pontiac, an emergency shelter that runs educational programs in the schools, offers counseling, advocates for abuse victims, and maintains a 24-hour crisis line and a forensic nursing program for sexual assault victims.
Tonight is the last show, but there are several other V-Day events taking place in and around Detroit in the next couple of weeks:
Love HER. Cherish HER. RESPECT HER. An Evening of Spoken Word, 7 p.m. Friday, Feb. 27, 1515 Broadway, Detroit.
Women's self-defense seminar, 9 a.m. to noon Saturday, Feb. 28, the Costick Center, located on 11 Mile, between Middlebelt and Inkster, Farmington Hills. Jeff Duncan, master instructor and sixth-degree black belt, his wife Connie, second-degree black belt and chief instructor and additional female black belt instructors from Farmington Martial Arts, will teach self-defense and awareness skills. Open to women and girls, age 11 and up. Advance registration is required by calling (248) 473-1800.
"Anyone of Us: Words from Prison," 7:30 p.m. Saturday, Feb. 28, and 2 p.m. Sunday, March 1, 1515 Broadway, Detroit. The production draws on the writings of women in prison. A panel discussion follows the performance.
Until the Violence Stops Film Festival, 7 p.m. March 3-4, 1515 Broadway, Detroit. "Until the Violence Stops," "What I Want My Words To Do To you," and "From One Prison" screen the first day; "Tough Guise," "Street Sex," and "Lumo" shown the second day.
"The Vagina Monologues," 7:30 p.m. Friday-Saturday, March 6-7, 1515 Broadway, Detroit. Special guest is Kalimah Johnson, a therapist and poet.
If you can't attend any of these events, please visit the www.VDay.org to learn more about what you can do to help stop violence against women.
Started ten years ago by feminist Eve Ensler, V-day (www.vday.org) has grown from a national to a global campaign to increase awareness and raise money for anti-violence organizations. V-Day generates broader attention for the fight to stop violence against women and girls, including rape, battery, incest, female genital mutilation (FGM) and sexual slavery.
Largely done through creative events such as spoken word, plays and films, local activists and college students participate in the events. In 2008, over 4000 V-Day benefit events took place produced by volunteer activists in the U.S. and around the world, educating millions of people about the reality of violence against women and girls.
I recently attended one of these events when I saw The Vagina Monologues performed by University of Michigan students on campus. The Vagina Monologues were a result of several interviews conducted by Eve Ensler and others of various women from different backgrounds, cultures and socio-economic status. The interviews resulted in stories of all kinds - some that made me laugh out loud like the elderly woman who had never "looked down THERE" before, and others that made me cry like the Bosnian woman who was ripped open with the force of a gun inside her. In a world of violence and television images that we've become numb to, art and performance provide a vehicle to connect with people, to open their eyes to what's happening all around us.
Tonight I will attend another V-Day performance in Ferndale, a play written by Eve Ensler called Necessary Targets. Eve traveled to Bosnia to interview female refugees who had been brutally raped and beaten during the war. Their stories of love and community in the face of such brutality inspired Eve to write the play.
Necessary Targets runs tonight at 7:30 at the Ringwald Theater in Ferndale and proceeds benefit HAVEN in Pontiac, an emergency shelter that runs educational programs in the schools, offers counseling, advocates for abuse victims, and maintains a 24-hour crisis line and a forensic nursing program for sexual assault victims.
Tonight is the last show, but there are several other V-Day events taking place in and around Detroit in the next couple of weeks:
Love HER. Cherish HER. RESPECT HER. An Evening of Spoken Word, 7 p.m. Friday, Feb. 27, 1515 Broadway, Detroit.
Women's self-defense seminar, 9 a.m. to noon Saturday, Feb. 28, the Costick Center, located on 11 Mile, between Middlebelt and Inkster, Farmington Hills. Jeff Duncan, master instructor and sixth-degree black belt, his wife Connie, second-degree black belt and chief instructor and additional female black belt instructors from Farmington Martial Arts, will teach self-defense and awareness skills. Open to women and girls, age 11 and up. Advance registration is required by calling (248) 473-1800.
"Anyone of Us: Words from Prison," 7:30 p.m. Saturday, Feb. 28, and 2 p.m. Sunday, March 1, 1515 Broadway, Detroit. The production draws on the writings of women in prison. A panel discussion follows the performance.
Until the Violence Stops Film Festival, 7 p.m. March 3-4, 1515 Broadway, Detroit. "Until the Violence Stops," "What I Want My Words To Do To you," and "From One Prison" screen the first day; "Tough Guise," "Street Sex," and "Lumo" shown the second day.
"The Vagina Monologues," 7:30 p.m. Friday-Saturday, March 6-7, 1515 Broadway, Detroit. Special guest is Kalimah Johnson, a therapist and poet.
If you can't attend any of these events, please visit the www.VDay.org to learn more about what you can do to help stop violence against women.
February 25, 2009
February Haiku
A co-worker on facebook posted a "Pothole Haiku" as her status this week and inspired me. I love haiku! And it's been a while, so here are a few haiku I wrote about the month of February.
Fourth month of winter/
Oh look, another gray cloud/
How many more weeks?
Glad for Valentine's/
Or else month would be a bust/
Though March not better
Big holes of dread/
My bloody tongue reminds me/
Have to swerve next time
Furnace is tired/
Running marathons all day/
Expensive racing
Rubber on ice, slide/
Guardrail not very sturdy/
Facing wrong way now
Hello I am here/
Under all of these layers/
Warm, but can't move much
Heavy boots on feet/
Forgot what my toes look like/
Wonder if they still exist
Fourth month of winter/
Oh look, another gray cloud/
How many more weeks?
Glad for Valentine's/
Or else month would be a bust/
Though March not better
Big holes of dread/
My bloody tongue reminds me/
Have to swerve next time
Furnace is tired/
Running marathons all day/
Expensive racing
Rubber on ice, slide/
Guardrail not very sturdy/
Facing wrong way now
Hello I am here/
Under all of these layers/
Warm, but can't move much
Heavy boots on feet/
Forgot what my toes look like/
Wonder if they still exist
Skinny Tuesday
Yesterday was "Fat Tuesday" or "Paczki Day" and while I understand what Fat Tuesday is - the last chance to gorge yourself on forbidden delights in the form of a huge, stuffed donut-like pastries before you have to give up all your culinary sins when Lent begins on Ash Wednesday - I don't get what's so great about Paczkis. They're enormous, heavy, greasy balls filled with various flavors of fruit jelly (there are even prune ones!) or Bavarian custard. "What's not to love?" you may say, but before you take another bite, think about this - what does Fat Tuesday mean to you?
Fat Tuesday actually began as Fat Thursday to mark the beginning of the last week before Lent. Paczki (pronounced "ponchki", not "poonchki" like it's so often called) were discovered as a way to use up all of the lard, sugar and eggs that would be forbidden during Lent. So, shouldn't only those who participate in Lent celebrate Fat Tuesday? If you don't practice Lenten behavior yet still eat your share of paczki the day before Ash Wednesday, it's kind of like celebrating Christmas Eve but refusing to celebrate Christmas. What's the point? I mean, rather than waiting in the two-hour bakery line in Hamtramck for a dozen paczki, you could designate a random day, say January 14, as your own personal paczki day. Or do they taste better on Fat Tuesday? Is it the camaraderie of eating them together? Is it the forbidden aura around every nibble that gets your heart rate up on that particular day?
In your defense, I do realize this is all easy for me to say because paczki have the distinct honor of being the only sweet on the planet that I have no trouble resisting and I do not participate in Lent (well, there was that one time I gave up ice cream and chocolate just to see if I could do it). I think we should abandon the tradition altogether and instead live a life of moderation and simplicity. If there's something you love that's not so great for you, do it in moderation. If there's something that you can give up for 40 days, give it up all together and live simply rather than conforming to a tradition of gorging, denying, and then gorging again.
Just a thought...
And one more note:
If you're Polish and having paczki means much more to you than just a jelly donut, if it is a way to celebrate your heritage, then by all means you should go to Hamtramck for the parade, festival and a performance by the Polish Mulsims.
Fat Tuesday actually began as Fat Thursday to mark the beginning of the last week before Lent. Paczki (pronounced "ponchki", not "poonchki" like it's so often called) were discovered as a way to use up all of the lard, sugar and eggs that would be forbidden during Lent. So, shouldn't only those who participate in Lent celebrate Fat Tuesday? If you don't practice Lenten behavior yet still eat your share of paczki the day before Ash Wednesday, it's kind of like celebrating Christmas Eve but refusing to celebrate Christmas. What's the point? I mean, rather than waiting in the two-hour bakery line in Hamtramck for a dozen paczki, you could designate a random day, say January 14, as your own personal paczki day. Or do they taste better on Fat Tuesday? Is it the camaraderie of eating them together? Is it the forbidden aura around every nibble that gets your heart rate up on that particular day?
In your defense, I do realize this is all easy for me to say because paczki have the distinct honor of being the only sweet on the planet that I have no trouble resisting and I do not participate in Lent (well, there was that one time I gave up ice cream and chocolate just to see if I could do it). I think we should abandon the tradition altogether and instead live a life of moderation and simplicity. If there's something you love that's not so great for you, do it in moderation. If there's something that you can give up for 40 days, give it up all together and live simply rather than conforming to a tradition of gorging, denying, and then gorging again.
Just a thought...
And one more note:
If you're Polish and having paczki means much more to you than just a jelly donut, if it is a way to celebrate your heritage, then by all means you should go to Hamtramck for the parade, festival and a performance by the Polish Mulsims.
February 17, 2009
Six-Word Memoir
Urban legend holds that, to win a $10 bet, Ernest Hemingway once wrote a six-word story: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." This sparked online magazine Smith to challenge their readers to write their own six-word autobiography. The magazine received thousands of responses, many of which are collected in the book Not Quite What I Was Planning. Some are funny, some are sad, some make no sense at all to anyone but the person who wrote it, but they inspired me to think about my own life and how I would represent 32 years so briefly.
What has my life meant up until now? What has been the theme? What do I represent?
Approaching it from every conceivable angle, I set out to write my six-word memoir. Should it be about my childhood and my family? Should it be about my emotional growth and my journey to find myself? Or should it be about my life as I see it now?
In the end, I decided that my life has been a continuous journey of discovery, challenge, adventure and love. I've spent a good portion of my life discovering who I am. I've faced adversity, I've risen, I've fallen, I've loved and I most definitely have lost. Expressing all of that in just six words seemed impossible at first, but then I gave it a shot. And I wrote a few. :-)
I'm who? Switched paths. Right road.
Leaped, fell, bruised. Fell again, love.
Laugh lines are my greatest achievement.
Climbing mountains. Sometimes with bad shoes.
Bending but never breaking. Strong roots.
What would your six-word autobiography be?
What has my life meant up until now? What has been the theme? What do I represent?
Approaching it from every conceivable angle, I set out to write my six-word memoir. Should it be about my childhood and my family? Should it be about my emotional growth and my journey to find myself? Or should it be about my life as I see it now?
In the end, I decided that my life has been a continuous journey of discovery, challenge, adventure and love. I've spent a good portion of my life discovering who I am. I've faced adversity, I've risen, I've fallen, I've loved and I most definitely have lost. Expressing all of that in just six words seemed impossible at first, but then I gave it a shot. And I wrote a few. :-)
I'm who? Switched paths. Right road.
Leaped, fell, bruised. Fell again, love.
Laugh lines are my greatest achievement.
Climbing mountains. Sometimes with bad shoes.
Bending but never breaking. Strong roots.
What would your six-word autobiography be?
February 16, 2009
MCL - My Crappy Ligament
Ten days ago at hockey I missed the puck and as I'm falling down I catch an edge that turned my knee inward. I fell on my knee in a way that nature certainly did not intend, indicated by the clearly audible "SNAP." In my head I scream "NO!! NOT AGAIN!!" and I grit my teeth as I get on all fours and attempt to stand. Not happening. And no one seems to know that I'm down because the play is at the other end of the ice. Finally the whistle blows and I hear the ref skate over and say "Knee?"
"Yep."
Then Nicole is there and a few players from the other team and I tell them I want to try to stand on my own (I'm stubborn that way) but it hurts too much and I need help. Nicole on my right and a player from the other team on my left, I get helped to the bench. Everyone bangs their sticks on the ice or the bench - a nice gesture but never a noise I wanted to hear for ME.
Hard to walk on but not impossible, I sit the rest of the game on the bench icing. In an ice rink. Who's idea was that??
Tests administered by my very own live-in personal athletic trainer indicated an MCL tear. The Medial Collateral Ligament, or My Crappy Ligament as I like to call it, on the inside of my left knee (for those of you wondering, it's not the knee I had surgery on two years ago...hey my last name isn't Ballance for nothing!) and is luckily the only ligament in the knee with a blood supply - meaning it has the ability to heal itself. "Oh, don't mind me, I'm just laying here on the couch waiting for my knee to make scar tissue..."
I spent this past week getting reacquainted with the ice machine, stim machine, knee wraps and my robo-leg brace. Following R.I.C.E is doing wonders for my knee, but what about the rest of me? What about the part of me that spent that entire night sobbing in utter disappointment (after I left the rink, of course...wouldn't want anyone to see me)...the part of me that couldn't call my teammates on either volleyball team to tell them I would be sitting out for at least a couple of weeks because I couldn't speak a word about it without breaking down...the part of me that was so deeply disheartened, that after only my first week of training for a triathlon that I'm pushing myself to do and am scared that I won't even make it past the swim, I was nearly being forced to give up working toward my dream, scared that I wouldn't have enough time to train?
They say that it is in times of adversity and despair that we see who we really are. Well, great. That means I'm a self-pitying crybaby. Or it means that I care so much about the triathlon, on so many levels, that anything that threatens to take it away from me cuts me to the core. That's exactly what this did to me and I'm not proud to say that it took me a few days to pull myself out of it and realize that I don't need a fully functioning knee in order to do laps in a pool. And while I can't jump up to spike a ball (well, I could...it's the landing that would be problematic!) I can still ride a bike. And even though I limp when I walk, I can't lay on my right side to sleep because it hurts too much, and I can't play the sports that I love, I can still move toward my goal, however slow that may be right now. But it's ok, because I'm still moving. I still have 11 weeks to train. Nearly three months! And I'm gonna get to that finish line...one step at a time.
"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..."
- Dory, Finding Nemo
"Yep."
Then Nicole is there and a few players from the other team and I tell them I want to try to stand on my own (I'm stubborn that way) but it hurts too much and I need help. Nicole on my right and a player from the other team on my left, I get helped to the bench. Everyone bangs their sticks on the ice or the bench - a nice gesture but never a noise I wanted to hear for ME.
Hard to walk on but not impossible, I sit the rest of the game on the bench icing. In an ice rink. Who's idea was that??
Tests administered by my very own live-in personal athletic trainer indicated an MCL tear. The Medial Collateral Ligament, or My Crappy Ligament as I like to call it, on the inside of my left knee (for those of you wondering, it's not the knee I had surgery on two years ago...hey my last name isn't Ballance for nothing!) and is luckily the only ligament in the knee with a blood supply - meaning it has the ability to heal itself. "Oh, don't mind me, I'm just laying here on the couch waiting for my knee to make scar tissue..."
I spent this past week getting reacquainted with the ice machine, stim machine, knee wraps and my robo-leg brace. Following R.I.C.E is doing wonders for my knee, but what about the rest of me? What about the part of me that spent that entire night sobbing in utter disappointment (after I left the rink, of course...wouldn't want anyone to see me)...the part of me that couldn't call my teammates on either volleyball team to tell them I would be sitting out for at least a couple of weeks because I couldn't speak a word about it without breaking down...the part of me that was so deeply disheartened, that after only my first week of training for a triathlon that I'm pushing myself to do and am scared that I won't even make it past the swim, I was nearly being forced to give up working toward my dream, scared that I wouldn't have enough time to train?
They say that it is in times of adversity and despair that we see who we really are. Well, great. That means I'm a self-pitying crybaby. Or it means that I care so much about the triathlon, on so many levels, that anything that threatens to take it away from me cuts me to the core. That's exactly what this did to me and I'm not proud to say that it took me a few days to pull myself out of it and realize that I don't need a fully functioning knee in order to do laps in a pool. And while I can't jump up to spike a ball (well, I could...it's the landing that would be problematic!) I can still ride a bike. And even though I limp when I walk, I can't lay on my right side to sleep because it hurts too much, and I can't play the sports that I love, I can still move toward my goal, however slow that may be right now. But it's ok, because I'm still moving. I still have 11 weeks to train. Nearly three months! And I'm gonna get to that finish line...one step at a time.
"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..."
- Dory, Finding Nemo
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