*STRIKE*

This makes me miss our bowling alley. Bowling is the perfect distraction in winter on a Tuesday night when you've got nothing else to do, no where else to go during a desolate beach-town winter. We used to go often when we first started dating, the Man and I. Have a few beers. Make fun of each other's "skills." Unfortunately all that is left of bowling locally for us is memories since our bowling alley is now townhouses. In February 2003 there was a blizzard. A real one. Where the whole state was shut down. And not just my state that doesn't know what to do with snow - the New Jersey Turnpike was closed too. Yes, the whole Turnpike. I remember this storm so vividly because it was also the weekend the Man and I drove four hours from our new apartment to my parents' house where all of the furniture, stuff, and things that were intended to fill up the apartment were stored. We left the day before the storm hit. We were stranded at my parents' house for two extra days because of the storm. And when we returned to our apartment we learned that one of the casualties of the storm was the bowling alley. The snow was so heavy that the roof caved in. There were outgoing messages on the bowling alley number for months that the bowling alley would be re-opening soon! Hooray! Then the building was raised and construction began on just what we needed - note sarcastic tone - more townhouses! Even if we don't have the bowling alley anymore, at least we can look back fondly at that early part of our relationship and still tease each other mercilessly about our bowling prowess. The Man still kicks my butt every time we bowl - on the Wii!

Photo credit: justephens on Flickr

Chocolatey Goodness

So sometimes cruising around the internets leads to strange coincidences. Maybe not earth shattering stuff that keeps you up at night but the kind of stuff you notice enough to say, "Hey, that is kind of weird." That is what happened with today's picture.

This is a photo of a band from Venezuela called Desorden Público playing at an outdoor music festival called Im Fluss in Basel, Switzerland*. It seems like a pretty cool festival - a big barge is moored in the Rhine and bands play out there for two weeks.

The band plays ska/reggae/rock (click here for a live stream of their music). They have been around since 1985 (that is a pretty long time for any band, right?). And like I said, they are from Venezuela.

Now for the kind of weird interconnectedness part of the web. Remember - I warned you that it wasn't an earth shaking thing - just a little weird. One of the articles that popped up in my reader today had to do with growing cacao beans in . . . Venezuela. Hey - I warned you!

But the thing is that when it first arrived in my in-box, I just skimmed the article - and even thought about not going to the full text after reading the scrib on the reader. But after I looked up the information about the band in the photo, I became more interested in the article. And I learned some stuff - cacao in Venezuela is mostly grown on plantations owned by non-Venezuelans but farmed by local (read: cheap) labor. Venezuelan cacao is known for making some of the most coveted chocolate in the world which is what keeps growers motivated to keep growing in an otherwise politically hostile environment - activists do sit-ins in fields (with machine guns), the government requires permitting and inspections out the wazoo (all for big time fees). Venezuelan cacao accounts for only 1% of the cacao grown in the world - and the output of the nation has remained constant for the past 300 years. And there is more.

So maybe I haven't found a new calling in life and my mind wasn't blown but I never would have known that stuff if I hadn't come across this random photo on Flickr. And now I am really curious about chocolate made from cacao beans grown in Venezuela! Me want to taste some!

* Thanks for the correction, knickinoptik - Basel, Switzerland not Bassel, Germany.

Photo credit: knickinoptik on Flickr

Vista

Isn't this the kind of scene you want to jump into and run around in Mary-Poppins-style? And funny enough it brings to mind another Julie Andrews' classic - the Sound of Music. OK, so maybe that isn't exactly the Alps in the background but wouldn't it still be fun to be there to spinning around in a dirndl singing "The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music" at the top of your lungs?

Photo credit: bcran on Flickr

So Where Was This A Few Hours Ago?

The perfect innocuous photo. Nondescript grass. Could be a beach or a dessert. The photo stream owner has the perfect name for what I am writing about lately: Banalities. The photo title "Formentera" did peak my interest though so a-googling I a-went.

This place is GORGEOUS! This dour photo over here on the right doesn't even begin . . . .

One of the websites I found says Formentera is, "one of the last outposts of paradise in the Mediterranean." According to Wikipedia, Formentera "It is known for its many pristine beaches and the fact that nude sunbathing is allowed on most of its beaches. Also, Formentera hosted the 2007 Techno 293 OD World Championships in windsurfing for juniors under 15 and youths under 17.

Fascinating. It sounds wonderful. Once again, I drool at vacations lost!

Photo credit: Banalities on Flickr

No Photo Day

Everytime I have tried to get a photo for today's post Flickr has presented me with a shot of someone's wedding or someone's kid. For some reason it does not seem appropriate to me to write about such intimate things when I have no context for the subject of the photo. I am not saying I will always "reject" a photo that has an intimate or personal subject, but somedays it just doesn't feel right. So this is just a rambling post that once again touches on the oh-so-boring subject I always seem to return to (yet have no expertise or authority in): what is proper to blog about. Yawn.

I just felt like writing today despite the fact that I have nothing in particular to write about. There is some craziness going on with my family today (which I will not write about here) so maybe that is why I feel like I need an outlet of some kind? Also, I do not feel like working (not that that is particular to *today* especially!). Too bad I couldn't wait for a picture that I felt was "safe" to write about. Maybe I will try again later if I still feel like writing.

Obsessed

This post has no relevance to today's picture. Frankly, it didn't really matter what popped up on Flickr today because I need to let it out to the world that I am obsessed with the show Entourage on HBO. We didn't always have HBO so by the time we did get it many of the highly acclaimed* series on that station were so deep into their runs that we never watched them on television but rather only on DVD (hooray for Netflix!). So we watched Entourage on DVD through the fourth season. And I pushed my dear Man-o-mine to watch, watch, watch as much as he could stand because I couldn't get enough of the show. I don't even know what it is. I don't have a crush on any of the characters. I have not been particularly engrossed in any of the plot lines, relationships of the characters. It is, I think, the whole package. It is a thirty minute escape into someone else's (albeit rather fancy schmancy) mundane world. Because really - how many times have I seen these guys sitting down to breakfast, a post hook-up debriefing, looking for work, looking for love. Is it that different from what most people do other than the setting? No. But I am compelled to watch. The new season started Monday and I set up the DVR to record. We didn't get to watch until last night. It wasn't a great episode. Not much happened to establish move any story line along. No major players seem to have been introduced that we haven't met before. But I watched it twice. I think about the show when I have trouble falling asleep. I think about the show when I am driving home from work. When I am bored my mind wanders to the show. I wonder what this is all about? Only five days until the next new episode . . . .

*I don't know if Entourage was highly acclaimed or not but it always looked like a good time when I would see previews.

Photo credit: Михал Орела on Flickr

A Fine Mess You've Gotten Us Into

Every camp mess hall must look exactly the same. I was convinced when I first glimpsed this photo that it HAD to be my old camp. The big mob of campers on the right. The bug juice on the end of the table. The delicious looking food on display. Mess halls have a . . . distinctive smell: old dishwater, over scrubbed stainless steel, bug juice (yes - the bug juice is a recurring theme!), fryer oil due for a change. Kind of yucky - yes. Worth all the other great parts of camp - yes. My first sleep away camp had such a questionable mess hall that it was the reason I became a vegetarian for twelve years. Two surprise health inspector visits. Two cancellations of taco night. One camper who decided she could survive on cereal, salad, and PB&J for the rest of the summer! I know I am abusing the exclamation point in this post but I loved camp - weired smells and risky food all the same.

Photo credit: fujimatt on Flickr

Ugly Duckling

I always loved the story of the Ugly Duckling. I think I identified with the poor little thing. I don't think I was an ugly kid but I think I was something of an outsider. The poor little cygnet. Trying so hard to fit in but never really succeeding. Sometimes I still feel like I am waiting for the day of the transformation - when I will figure out that I have been in the wrong place, doing the wrong things, all this time. And other times I feel gorgeous and glorious - floating across the water with my head held high.

Photo credit: Anyaka on Flickr

Riding, Riding . . . La La La La La La

I used to ride. For fun. For exercise. For a personal challenge. A few years after law school I had a crisis of confidence in the choices I had made up to that point in my life. So I challenged myself to do something that would be - for me - really crazy and out of character and see it through to the end. And I did sort of. I decided to train for the Boston-to-New York AIDS Ride.* Yes, I decided to train to ride my bike (which I didn't have until after I decided to do the ride) over 200 miles (and fund-raise an insane amount of money for someone who hates to ask for favors - I think it was $2500 minimum to participate and that was 10 years ago). All the necessary money was raised. I trained as best as I could considering that along the way (1) my bike was stolen out of my car** and (2) I was in a car accident that put me out of commission for a few critical training weeks. I did the ride as best as I was able despite the fact that there was a huge hurricane that required cancelling the first day of the ride. I wore enormous but cool hot pink feathered wings I made on my helmet. I talked to complete strangers. It was a big deal to me to have done these things. I developed the courage to leave my job and try some new things.*** I am not saying that I ended up happier on the other side but when I have doubts about my abilities to accomplish things, I look back and remind myself that I did (for all intents and purposes) succeed in completing a major personal challenge that not even I thought I could accomplish

* I do not think this event, or the organization that sponsored it, even exists anymore but it was similar to the Avon 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk, except on bikes.

** Funny story - I never ever ever stored my bike in my car overnight but I was plannng to invest in a nice roof rack/bike carrier. I was going to get the rack put on the next day. So I decided to put in the car the night before because I wanted the installer to show me how to put the bike on the car after he installed the rack and I didn't want to get dirty before work jamming the bike in the back of my VW Golf. The rack money was used to buy a new bike - which was never left in the car again.

*** The universe was conspiring against me in part. I took some time off and goofed around at the beach (where I incidentally met my now-husband). When I decided it was time to try getting my act together again, I moved back to New York to look for a job in the city. My return date was September 7, 2001. By the middle of that week, my prospects for work in NY were looking pretty bleak.

Photo credit: k.steudel on Flickr

If The Sun Refused To Shine

Well it isn't refusing to shine today - it is glorious out today. But if the sun did refuse to shine today it wouldn't really matter. I am full of sunshine today. I feel full of light - I am aglow. I am feeling so full of joy right now - my heart feels enormous (flash to images of the Grinch's heart growing three times in size*). It is Friday. I am working close to home. I just got some very good news that I do not feel like sharing.** I treated myself to some yummy yarn that has been haunting me for weeks.*** I found a fun and easy pattern to make something.**** So the long and the short of it is that I feel pretty good today. And I am liking it!

* I really cannot find a video clip of just the heart growing scene from How the Grinch Stole Christmas on youtube.com. I am shocked.

** See earlier posts about on my thoughts about what to share and what to keep to yourself here, here, here, and here.

*** Thanks again for all your help, Allison!

**** For myself! I feel so selfish when I knit for myself but not guilty enough to not do it. This will only be the fourth thing that I will have made for myself in four years!

Photo credit: zoetnet on Flickr

Out of the Clear Blue Sky

The sky looks like this today. Clear. Virtually cloudless. You can see that it is warm but not too humid. Perfect. You want to lie on the beach on a day like this with the breeze blowing off the ocean, tickling your skin and curling up the edges of your towel. It reminds you of being a kid on vacation. There would be a cooler filled with sandwiches - the bread getting soggy because you packed them so early this morning. There would be peaches and plums in that cooler too and their juice would run down your chin with every bite you took. And when you went to lick the juice off your chin you would taste the salt that the air has lifted from the ocean and deposited on you. You would take long walks looking for shells, the cool waves lapping at your feet as you sink into the wet sand with every step. A nap would be in order after that followed by a cold can of soda wrapped in tin foil. Pack everything up and head back to the house after you build a big sand castle and rinse everything off in the water. Wait your turn for a shower - but you don't mind because it feels lovely to sit on the porch and read a few chapters of your book. You know you are going to sleep well tonight.

Photo credit: RichardBarley on Flickr

Reflection

I have stayed up late the past two nights. Like silly late - 2AM and 12:30AM. As detestable as the impact this has on me the next morning (can you say, "zombie" boys and girls?), the deliciousness of being alone to knit and have complete control of the remote is too sweet to pass up.

When I was single I would stay up really late for no reason. I lived by myself so I wasn't avoiding roommates. I think I enjoy being up late for the same reasons I love playing hooky. The day off you have when you ditch out school or work is so much more decadent and luscious than your regular weekend. Being up after midnight on a weeknight is the same - so illicit even if you are just curled up in old sweats watching an Entourage rerun.

Perhaps a night off from nights up tonight. I need to recharge my battery a bit. I'm making good progress on my knitting though . . . . I guess we will see.

Photo credit: A6U571N on Flickr

Green Dreams

I dream (well maybe that is a bit of hyperbole) of being able to garden. We bought our house two and a half years ago - and moved in right before the end of the year so it wasn't exactly gardening time. I was so looking forward to spring - getting out in the garden, moving things around, trimming trees and shrubs, even weeding. Then I found out I was pregnant so no heavy work for me. Then last year, I had this little baby who never napped. When was I supposed to find the time to garden. Okay - maybe this year? Well guess what - knocked up again! I am sure my neighbors hate us. The front yard is a hot mess. There is one tree limb that is so long is touches the ground. We have dead White Pines in the back yard - still with the stakes the tree wench* put in when they were planted over two years ago. The back yard is a mess - poor little boy can hardly go out to play back there. Between the dead stuff, the over grown trees, mulching debris along the perimeter of the yard, sticks, black walnut shells and dog poop we are a mess! Part of the problem is that I work 5 days a week and my husband works 6 days a week and we have no days off together. Another problem is that the Boy still doesn't really nap for long enough stretches to get anything done. Yet another problem is that the Boy is in a very adventurous phase - he needs to be watched at all times so a yard full of hazards is not an ideal place to let him run free. And then there are the mosquitoes who love to eat me up - they come out around 3:30 every afternoon until dark so no after work gardening for me. And the sun - even if the Boy did nap on the weekends for a big chunk of the afternoon the sun in the front of my house is so strong that the door knob on the front door will leave a blister on your palm if you touch it with a bare hand between noon and three in the afternoon. Maybe next year . . . .

*Another story for another day.

Photo credit: CHRISJAZ

According to wikipedia.com:

The term "lemur" is derived from the Latin word lemures, meaning "spirits of the night" or "ghosts". This likely refers to their large, reflective eyes and the wailing cries of some species.

Lemurs are not that interesting, at least not on wikipedia. The most interesting thing that I learned today about lemurs is that they tend to have a female dominated culture which is unusual in mammilian species. The description provided by wikipedia sounds, however, strikingly like most dates and marriages I am familiar with:

where this occurs, adult males exhibit submissive behavior to adult females in social settings, such as feeding, grooming, and sleeping site priority.

Think about it. In most households, who decides what is for dinner? Who spends more time in the bathroom getting ready? And how much of an ass does your man have to be for you to end up on the floor while he sleeps on the couch when you go visit an old friend from high school?

Maybe lemurs seem kind of boring because they are kind of like us.

Photo credit: Robert Zolkos on Flickr

When Words Escape You . . .

Photo title: Oscar Swartz in front of photographic art by Andreas Kock

Seriously, what could I possible add to that? Except that at first glance I thought the photo in the photo was an Afghan hound wearing sunglasses.

That's all I've got. Really.

Photo credit: texplorer

Throw Me To the Lions

So I haven't been here in quite some time. Life has a tendency to sneak in and interrupt the things we actually enjoy doing. Hopefully I will be able to resume my posting on a more regular basis. One of the reasons I stopped writing was that I was starting to feel like all I did was complain and I do not like being that person. One of the reasons for my return today is that Holly has been poking me with a stick for the past few weeks telling me to start writing again. And she "tagged" me with one of those "meme" things.

8x8

8 THINGS I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO

- seeing the Boy later

- seeing my husband

- leaving the office at the end of the day

- spending the weekend with my parents, brother, SIL, etc.

- making it to the beach this summer

- getting rid of this cough/cold/nasty sick thing

- finishing this list

- sleep

8 THINGS I DID YESTERDAY

- knit a baby hat

- went to the playground for over an hour

- ate crabs

- took a long walk

- felt guilty while I listened to the Boy cry and moan all through "nap" time

- dreaded the fact that the next day was Monday

- coughed

- laundry

8 THINGS I WISH I COULD DO

- win the lottery

- get my act together

- walk out of work and never look back

- be better at filling out these lists

- be a stay at home mom

- find time for a pedicure

- live closer to my parents

- be better at making friends

8 SHOWS I WATCH

- Project Runway

- America's Next Top Model

- CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

- Myth Busters

- The Fashion Show

- Big Love

- Entourage

- Weeds

8 FAVORITE FOODS

- good bread

- pasta

- sushi

- potato chips

- pizza

- a good burger

- fruit

- cheese

8 PLACES I HAVE TRAVELLED

- Maine

- Cabo San Lucas

- Israel

- Italy

- Germany

- Massachusetts

- St. John, USVI

- Puerto Rico

8 PLACES I WOULD LIKE TO TRAVEL

- Greece

- Arizona

- Grand Canyon

- Virgin Gorda

- Canada

- Russia

- Japan

- Thailand

8 PEOPLE I TAG

- if you are reading this, consider yourself tagged

Photo credit: flyone on Flickr

First Impressions (Day Sixtyone, Paragraph 67)

When I saw this photo, I thought, "That looks like a CLE*." The expressions on everyone's faces are all looks I've seen on faces at CLEs before(from left to right starting with the guy in the plaid shirt):

PLAID SHIRT GUY: I knew I should have brought the New York Times Saturday puzzle instead of the TV Guide puzzle . . . what am I going to do for the next three hours?

BLONDE WOMAN (just behind the guy in the tie): If I put my hand on my chin - like this - and squint my eyes just so and open my mouth as if I am just about to breathlessly say, "Wow, your Honor, that is the most fascinating thing I've ever heard" maybe my Motion for Summary Judgment will be granted on the papers and I won't have to do oral argument next Tuesday morning . . . ."

TIE GUY: I'm going to chuckle at all the appropriate places in this presentation. Everyone needs to be reminded of how clever I am.

ARGYLE-GLASSES GUY: Is my facial hair holding me back professionally?

BLONDE GIRL: This dude is totally trying to see down my shirt. Ewwww. Does my hair look okay?

BEARD GUY: Is that the chick from first year contracts over there? Is it? Dude, I have to poop. God she looks awful.

MR. BIG COLLAR: Oh yeah. You want me girl. You know you do. Stop being coy. I see that look in your eyes. Don't deny it. Everyone can see it.

MS. BANGS: Ugh. I'd rather be at the office. Wow. Too much cleavage, today I guess. Oh well. No one is looking at me anyway.

SLEEPING WOMAN: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

BLUE SHIRT: Hey! Someone's taking a picture! Why is someone taking a picture at a CLE? Who even brings a camera to a CLE? Where is that waitress with more coffee? Wait, is this my good side?

TAN SUIT: I have to pee but the door is so far away everyone is going to watch me go pee why did I sit so far from the door I have to pee but th edoor is so far away . . .

BLONDE SLEEPER: Must stay awake. Must stay awake. Must stay awake.

And yes, this really is a CLE class. Sometimes the first impression is right on.

*CLE is Continuing Legal Education; most states require that lawyers take a minimum number of credit hours every year or two years to assist in staying current with new developments in the law.

Photo credit: Jesse Michael Nix on Flickr

I Want To Go To There* (Day Sixty, Paragraph 56)

Doesn't that look heavenly? Instead of heavenly, I was going to say sublime but that seemed too corny once I really looked at the name of the photographer for this shot. That got me thinking about the word sublime. It doesn't take much to get my train of thought derailed. So I'm looking up the meaning of sublime. And I'm researching the origins of sublime. But it doesn't really matter what sublime means, or even where it came from, does it? The point is that this was supposed to be a post about how much I am jonesing for tranquil turquoise waters and white sand but my brain just won't focus on that for long enough for me to write something decent and engaging about that. And I think I have recently bemoaned my failure to vacation so I should really hold off on whining about that for a least a month or two. So anyway, I guess what I'm getting at here is that my brain does not process information in a straight line. I generally end up putting on a fairly polished and organized front when in reality I am down a rabbit hole somewhere thinking about whether or not a word means under a citrus fruit.

*Thank you, Liz Lemon, for the title of this post.**

** Thank you, Jenelle, for the asterisk idea.

Photo credit: sub_lime79 on Flickr

Doggy, Daddy, Potty (Day Fiftynine, Paragraph 53, 54 & 55)

Poor Maggie.* The Boy has become obsessed with the dog. He runs around the house yelling, "Doggy! Doggy! Doggy!" Maggie runs around the house looking for places to hide. The only real problem is that the Boy's "doggy" sounds very similar to his "Daddy" which sounds very much like his "potty" as well. This has made it tough to figure out what exactly we're talking about but the past few days it has been getting a little easier to figure out what is going on.

"Doggy" will generally be accompanied by a little bit of running about searching out/chasing the dog and then a sprint that ends in a schreeeeeeeeeeching halt just before the Boy hits Maggie's invisible force field followed by big grin and a chorus of "dee-dee-dee-dee-dee!" (that is the Boy singing and grinning; the dog is looking terrified by now!). Before the rapture takes over and the Boy tries to penetrate the demilitarized zone, I go over to show him the right way to approach the doggy-doggy-doggy and how to pet her with "nice hands."

"Potty" is something the Boy will say when he sees someone headed to the powder room or if he hears a toilet flushing and I think maybe (just maybe) he may say it sometimes when he is relieving himself (how cool is that - I may not being changing his diaper until he is 10 years old!); "potty" is also generally accompanied by the sign as well - so if you are paying attention this one isn't too tough to pick-up on.

"Daddy." Well the "daddy" has been a little rough because the Man is away on a little guys trip for a week. It has been a tough few days for the Boy. He clearly is aware that something is not quite right but he seems to be adapting to the Man not being around. The worst of it was when I ran the vacuum the other night - the Man's job - the Boy was just beside himself looking for his "dah-dee?" Heartbreaking. We will both be glad to have the Man return home - tomorrow night! Hooray!

*Just so we are all clear, this is not a photo of Maggie but this is a very sweet looking puppy!

Photo credit: Threasa Solomon Photography on Flickr

(Day Fiftyeight, Paragraph 52)

Am I an art critic? No. Am I an expert in photography? No. Can I take a decent picture? No. Do I know what I like when I see it? Yes. This photo here to the right is pretty interesting once you stop caring what it may or may not depict. The yellow lights reflecting off the water perfectly mirror the boat*, pole*, and white light in the bottom left corner of the shot. So even though the subject matter is not immediately apparent, there is a symmetry about the photo that is visually pleasing. The lights reflecting off the water create a warm, golden palette. Imagine the image in a large gilt frame at the end of a hallway - it would seem like you could keep walking right into the picture until you reached the water's edge. Lovely.

*If you are curious about what is depicted in this photo, maybe a little detective work in the related set of pictures will help reveal what it is. I'm thinking a bamboo oar on a row boat in India. What do you think it is?

Photo credit: Dainis Matisons on Flickr