Hopefully this won't turn out to be completely humiliating...
Saturday, July 2, 2011
100 Mile Fitness Challenge!
Hopefully this won't turn out to be completely humiliating...
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Berry Baking
I love baking. It's therapeutic to use a hand-beater, roll dough into cookies, or lightly boil a berry sauce (while stirring continuously). And today, while baking, I realized I've never blogged about this particular hobby. So, here 'tis.
Today's bout of baking was inspired by visiting Thunderbird Berry Farm this morning to pick blueberries with my mom and younger brother, Joshie. (Picking berries - also therapeutic)
With 8 pounds of fresh, sun-warmed blueberries strewn about the kitchen, I felt compelled to bake something! I chose Blueberry Oat Bars from allrecipes.com, which is my go-to baking/cooking website. These were scrumptious! An all-around hit.
But something else I realized today: I alter every recipe, sometimes beyond recognition. Here are the changes I made to this recipe:
1) substitute 1 cup whole wheat flour & 1/2 cup all-purpose flour for 1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour;
2) substitute 1 cup brown sugar for 1 1/2 cups white sugar;
3) add 1/2 tsp. of cinnamon;
4) double the amount of berries from 2 cups to 4 cups;
5) and use blueberries AND blackberries!
And voilà!
Please note: photography is not one of my hobbies.
Today's bout of baking was inspired by visiting Thunderbird Berry Farm this morning to pick blueberries with my mom and younger brother, Joshie. (Picking berries - also therapeutic)
With 8 pounds of fresh, sun-warmed blueberries strewn about the kitchen, I felt compelled to bake something! I chose Blueberry Oat Bars from allrecipes.com, which is my go-to baking/cooking website. These were scrumptious! An all-around hit.
But something else I realized today: I alter every recipe, sometimes beyond recognition. Here are the changes I made to this recipe:
1) substitute 1 cup whole wheat flour & 1/2 cup all-purpose flour for 1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour;
2) substitute 1 cup brown sugar for 1 1/2 cups white sugar;
3) add 1/2 tsp. of cinnamon;
4) double the amount of berries from 2 cups to 4 cups;
5) and use blueberries AND blackberries!
And voilà!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Time for a Little Update...
I’ve been visiting my hometown (Tulsa, Oklahoma) for 8 days now. While spending quality time with my family and old buddies has been terrific, I have to admit, I’m suffering from a bit of culture shock. Here’s a few noticeable differences from my Boston life:
1) A bigger car is a safer car.
2) Walking is bothersome. Why would you walk or ride a bike or take public transportation to get to your destination when you could drive the aforementioned over-size vehicle? What kind of government propaganda is that?! (I think I’m developing blood clots in my legs.)
3) Wal-Mart rules!
4) Kenny Chesney is immensely talented. (I guess that’s the thinking you develop when country music constitutes 89% of the available radio stations.)
5) This is a serious one – the average Boston resident really is abrupt. The other day, the cashier at Wal-Mart thanked me for visiting and wished me a nice day with a very genuine-looking smile. I was immediately shocked/suspicious, and opted to ignore her because she must want something. My sister informed me I was embarrassing her.
6) Organic food is expensive, hard to find, and gross. (Thank you, Mom, for not believing any of this.)
7) Insects are just a part of life. (Which is true, I guess. But I really enjoyed my life without them.)
8) The sun is SO BRIGHT. I had forgotten what real, un-hindered by clouds or buildings, sunglasses-are-not-optional sunshine feels like.
9)Roadkill happens. And it's disgusting. Please note, I saw one roadkill victim during the entirety of my time in Boston, and it was a kitten.
10) Females should have medium to long hair, or else they look like a boy or a 60+ woman. Which is unfortunate, seeing as my hair now looks like this –
Again, thank you, Mom, for not believing any of this.
1) A bigger car is a safer car.
2) Walking is bothersome. Why would you walk or ride a bike or take public transportation to get to your destination when you could drive the aforementioned over-size vehicle? What kind of government propaganda is that?! (I think I’m developing blood clots in my legs.)
3) Wal-Mart rules!
4) Kenny Chesney is immensely talented. (I guess that’s the thinking you develop when country music constitutes 89% of the available radio stations.)
5) This is a serious one – the average Boston resident really is abrupt. The other day, the cashier at Wal-Mart thanked me for visiting and wished me a nice day with a very genuine-looking smile. I was immediately shocked/suspicious, and opted to ignore her because she must want something. My sister informed me I was embarrassing her.
6) Organic food is expensive, hard to find, and gross. (Thank you, Mom, for not believing any of this.)
7) Insects are just a part of life. (Which is true, I guess. But I really enjoyed my life without them.)
8) The sun is SO BRIGHT. I had forgotten what real, un-hindered by clouds or buildings, sunglasses-are-not-optional sunshine feels like.
9)Roadkill happens. And it's disgusting. Please note, I saw one roadkill victim during the entirety of my time in Boston, and it was a kitten.
10) Females should have medium to long hair, or else they look like a boy or a 60+ woman. Which is unfortunate, seeing as my hair now looks like this –
Monday, May 30, 2011
Our Code of Peace
Check out an article I wrote, published by The Daily Flannelgraph: Our Code of Peace.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Staycation: Days 2 - 4
Day 2: Cantab Lounge Poetry Slam 
On Wednesday night, day 2 of Josh and I’s staycation, we attended a poetry slam at The Cantab Lounge. As with improv, I was a slam virgin. I’ve been to poetry readings, of course, but no official open mic marathon of poetic goodness. I figured it would be good. The lounge website was so non-informational and ugly that even I, the only person under 60 who hasn’t yet learned to use Photoshop, recognized its wretched, non-mainstream design – evidence of a hipster hot spot. And hipsters write the best poetry.
I was not disappointed, in the locale or the poets. The poetry slam was held in the Cantab’s basement. It was dim, the walls’ paint was scratched and blotchy, and there was an itty bitty baby bar crammed into the back of the room. The place was full of people – there wasn’t even space for everyone to be there. (For example, we got there only 10 minutes after it started and had to sit in the doorway of the men’s bathroom.) And people had traveled to get there too. The host announced there were “slam teams” (I had no idea such a thing existed.) in attendance from Portland, ME and NH. Talk about commitment to your art. Best of all, everyone seemed to know each other. As people would arrive, half the room would wave at whoever had just entered, and inevitably, a girl would skip up to the new arrival, squealing, and throw her arms around him/her/them – an unusual display of affection for hipsters. Cantab holds these slams almost every Wednesday, and these people must be faithful attendees. We stuck out like the lame, non-plaid-wearers we are.
The poems were quality. There was a heavily-tattooed woman with rib-length frizzy hair who compared her mother to Medusa and every other mythological female no mother would ever want to be compared with; a hairy skinny guy who wrote a sensual double-entendre poem entitled “Where Mommy Can’t See”; and, my favorite, a woman in boots and a filmy floral dress who argued that, since children can be entertained by the same puzzles and toys and books over and over, perhaps they should be the ones working at most of our jobs. Solid stuff.
Favorite line of the night: “A fish needs a bicycle like a poet needs a girlfriend/I just don’t see it happening”
Day 3: I panicked that we would never be ready to move and stayed home. Not that I did any packing. But I hyperventilated about it. And then I got over it and we hung out with friends.
Day 4: Breakwater Reading Series @ Brookline Booksmith
The Breakwater Reading Series is put on by the awesome bookstore Brookline Booksmith, at which MFA candidates from Boston’s universities read what they have been working on. This event wasn’t great. I liked the first reader, with her fictional short story about a girl’s fling with her tattoo artist, and the last reader’s poetry had an intriguing choppy style. But the other two readers weren’t well-prepared, which led to awkward reading sessions full of pauses and paper shuffling and stutters, and, frankly, most high school students’ material is more original.
Maybe MFA programs should recruit hipsters.
On Wednesday night, day 2 of Josh and I’s staycation, we attended a poetry slam at The Cantab Lounge. As with improv, I was a slam virgin. I’ve been to poetry readings, of course, but no official open mic marathon of poetic goodness. I figured it would be good. The lounge website was so non-informational and ugly that even I, the only person under 60 who hasn’t yet learned to use Photoshop, recognized its wretched, non-mainstream design – evidence of a hipster hot spot. And hipsters write the best poetry.
I was not disappointed, in the locale or the poets. The poetry slam was held in the Cantab’s basement. It was dim, the walls’ paint was scratched and blotchy, and there was an itty bitty baby bar crammed into the back of the room. The place was full of people – there wasn’t even space for everyone to be there. (For example, we got there only 10 minutes after it started and had to sit in the doorway of the men’s bathroom.) And people had traveled to get there too. The host announced there were “slam teams” (I had no idea such a thing existed.) in attendance from Portland, ME and NH. Talk about commitment to your art. Best of all, everyone seemed to know each other. As people would arrive, half the room would wave at whoever had just entered, and inevitably, a girl would skip up to the new arrival, squealing, and throw her arms around him/her/them – an unusual display of affection for hipsters. Cantab holds these slams almost every Wednesday, and these people must be faithful attendees. We stuck out like the lame, non-plaid-wearers we are.
The poems were quality. There was a heavily-tattooed woman with rib-length frizzy hair who compared her mother to Medusa and every other mythological female no mother would ever want to be compared with; a hairy skinny guy who wrote a sensual double-entendre poem entitled “Where Mommy Can’t See”; and, my favorite, a woman in boots and a filmy floral dress who argued that, since children can be entertained by the same puzzles and toys and books over and over, perhaps they should be the ones working at most of our jobs. Solid stuff.
Favorite line of the night: “A fish needs a bicycle like a poet needs a girlfriend/I just don’t see it happening”
Day 3: I panicked that we would never be ready to move and stayed home. Not that I did any packing. But I hyperventilated about it. And then I got over it and we hung out with friends.
Day 4: Breakwater Reading Series @ Brookline Booksmith
The Breakwater Reading Series is put on by the awesome bookstore Brookline Booksmith, at which MFA candidates from Boston’s universities read what they have been working on. This event wasn’t great. I liked the first reader, with her fictional short story about a girl’s fling with her tattoo artist, and the last reader’s poetry had an intriguing choppy style. But the other two readers weren’t well-prepared, which led to awkward reading sessions full of pauses and paper shuffling and stutters, and, frankly, most high school students’ material is more original.
Maybe MFA programs should recruit hipsters.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Staycation: Day 1
As previously announced, Josh and I will be moving from Boston to Taiwan at the end of the month! But bad news: Josh will be going over to Taiwan hans solo for the first six weeks, as his Mandarin summer program at National Taiwan U. is intense. The good news is that I will be spending that time in Tulsa visiting my family and friends, and I am eagerly anticipating my mommy taking care of me again. The bad news is Josh and I will be separated for our two-year wedding anniversary. Stink. But good news! We decided to celebrate early by going on vacation this week! The bad news is that didn’t work out because we haven’t planned for our move at all, as Josh just graduated and his family visited us for a week. And moving all your stuff back to the Midwest so you can bum storage space from your parents, and then moving internationally, is no small feat. Ultimate good news though: we’re treating this week as a staycation, cramming in all the activities our beloved city has to offer that we haven’t taken it up on yet. Which is really great news.
Staycation, day 1: The house teams show at Improv Asylum
Now, I didn’t use to be into improv, or really even into comedians in general. That is, until I fell in love with Tina Fey during her Sarah Palin impressions in 2008. And, until last night, I was actually an improv virgin. I had seen it on TV, but never been to a live show. But who doesn’t love well-done, hilarious, off-the-cuff comedy? These people were good. Laugh-your-a$k off good.
The theater was cozily small, with the stage in the center of the seating, so every seat was a good seat. There were four house teams – I later overhead one of the comedians telling his friends in the audience (Who I had the good fortune to sit next to. And then blatantly eavesdropped on their conversation.) that two were resident teams and two were in-training teams. I honestly couldn’t tell the difference. Well, maybe on one team I could. They only got like 65 laughs as opposed to non-stop.
You knew the sketches were true improv, as the comedians got their material from shout-outs by the audience, which also made the subjects of the sketches completely random. There were Spanish conquistadores in a boxing ring fighting with mathematical equations and jello shots, a high-strung girl on a first date with a surfer dude who made a necklace out of his beloved dead pet gerbil, or my favorite – the mafia trying to pawn off the body of their most recent victim, a muppet. Fun was had by one and all.
As a side note, Tina Fey has a memoir out – Bossypants. #1 book in the country right now. Read it! I read it on a plane and, despite my best efforts, kept laughing so hard I snorted. But really, she and Amy Poehler are like, the only female comedians who don’t make lame jokes about how horrible men are or what hormonal witches women are. So basically, they’re the only female comedians who are intelligently humorous and don’t make us look bad. I support that.
Monday, May 16, 2011
LMA, My New Heroine
Louisa May Alcott is pretty cool, not gonna lie. Read about her life in Kit Baake's whimsical LMA biography, which I review here.