My Big Indecision

Can't Miss Fish

2009-03-26T11:52:00.003-04:00

This recipe was of course perfected by my friend Lauren, but she is one of those people who keep recipes in their heads. I made it recently for my family and they loved it so much that they requested I write it down for them. Why stop at sharing it there? So I'm posting it.

I'll admit salmon is not my favorite fish. I rarely order it at restaurants. I guess I got a little snobby and considered it both commonplace and not all that delicious. But certain preparations of salmon wow me, and this one wowed me more than any other I've tried. It's simple and delicious! Try it; you'll like it. Really. And compliment me on my recipe-writing skillz.

Simple Salmon Veracruz

2 tbsp olive oil

1 medium red onion, coarsely chopped

2 large cloves garlic, minced

Pinch red pepper flakes

Pinch black pepper

1 cup white wine

2 14-oz cans diced tomatoes (with juice)

¼ cup chopped Spanish green olives

2 tbsp olive juice from the jar (or more/less to taste)

4 salmon filets, approximately 2 lbs total

Salt and pepper

Heat the oil in a large, deep pan over medium heat. Add the onions and sauté for 1-2 minutes. Add the garlic, red pepper, and black pepper and continue to cook until the onions are translucent (be careful not to burn the garlic). Add the wine and deglaze the pan. Let the wine reduce for 4-5 minutes. Add the tomatoes and cook until tomatoes are warm. Add the olives and the olive juice, reduce heat to low, and simmer uncovered for 15-20 minutes or until ready to eat. (The longer it simmers, the thicker it will become.)

Turn on broiler. Sprinkle salt and pepper on both sides of salmon filets. Broil salmon for 8-10 minutes on high. (Or grill salmon on stovetop or outdoor grill.)

Serve salmon with Veracruz sauce spooned on top. Serves 4.

It's Time For A Little Post-Mortem

2009-02-27T21:06:00.002-05:00

So Brett the Jet has hung up his helMET. I can't say I didn't see it coming, and I can't say I was wrong about the whole thing. I'm glad he had a decent season, though, and I wish him the best.

NFL Week Whatever: This Blows

2009-01-13T11:10:00.006-05:00

Yeah, I used a lolcat photo. So what?

There's no need for me to express my disappointment over the results of the playoffs so far. Normally accurate quarterbacks are throwing more interceptions than Brett Favre (sorry). Normally awesome teams are being beat (Pittsburgh excluded) by mediocre, lucky, hot-streak teams. I have no more words on the NFL this year. If the Cardinals win it all, I don't know what I'll do with myself.

In any case, to the relief of at least one of the two people who read this blog, I'm done with the NFL. Until next August.

NFL Week 17: But There Are Only 16 Games!

2008-12-30T10:28:00.005-05:00

Oh, HELL yes!

Wow, wow, wow. The playoff picture only became clear at the last minute! I love the suspense! This is the way football was meant to be! The 49ers won more than 5 games! The Dolphins took the AFC East! The Patriots didn't even make the playoffs! It's like the 1980s all over again!

I'm sure Brett fans were disappointed on Sunday, but how can you not love Chad Pennington's story? I couldn't have hoped for a better end to the regular season. Bring on the playoffs.

I'm sorry to see it turn out like this for Brett Favre, who had 1 TD and a devastating 3 INTs against the Dolphins. After 16 games, here are the results of the Brett Favre Interception Watch TD/INT Tally:

INTs: 22
TDs: 22

Complete QB stats for the NFL can be found here. Gratuitous shirtless Pennington shot can be found here:

They say looking good is the best revenge. But there's something off about this photo.

Bad Blogger!

2008-12-26T12:25:00.003-05:00

Aaaaahhhhh. I missed NFL Weeks 15 and 16, and they weren't fabulous for Brett and the Jets. They pulled off a win against the Bills but lost to -- what?! -- Seattle?! Over those two games Favre had 4 interceptions and only 1 touchdown throw. He's now at 21 TDs and 19 INTs. Pull it together, Jets! You're now in third place in your division! (Go Dolphins!) Things aren't looking good right now. One more week to go . . .

NFL Week 14: Another Tumble for Brett the Jet

2008-12-10T17:45:00.003-05:00

Well.

The 49ers beat the Jets! The 49ers beat the Jets! But that's really only good news for Dolphins and Patriots fans, since the stupid Cardinals won and clinched the NFC West.

Brett threw another INT but no TDs in a disappointing (for Gang Green anyway) loss to the 49ers. Boo hoo. The 49ers are HOT!

Brett's tally: 20 TDs, 15 INTs.

NFL Week 13: The Roll Has Been Stuffed

2008-12-01T10:59:00.003-05:00

You'll get back on your feet, Brett.

Brett Favre's passing rating tumbled 40% from Week 12 to Week 13 and he threw an INT in a tough loss to the Denver Broncos. The New England Patriots, meanwhile, had their asses handed to them by the Steelers, leaving the Jets in first place in the AFC East. Personally I'm pulling for the Miami Dolphins to make an upset (or at least make the playoffs). Chad Pennington avenged!

Brett's tally stands at 20 TDs and 14 INTs. (Drew Brees has as many INTs.) He's still looking pretty good.

In NFC news, the 49ers became the first west coast team this season to win on the eastern seaboard when they defeated the Bills in Buffalo. Killing two birds with one stone, they also kept their hopes alive of winning (gasp!) the NFC West. Yeah, keep losing, Arizona.

And next week, oh next week! The 49ers host the Jets at the Stick! If I had the attention span, I might live-blog it. But I don't.

Maybe Just One Thing

2008-11-23T19:07:00.004-05:00

It sure seems like all that was standing in Brett's way was his INT competition. Ever since J.T. O'Sullivan was benched by the 49ers, Brett's QB rating has been above 100.

Still Rolling

2008-11-23T18:56:00.004-05:00

Here I am, dutifully reporting Brett Favre's most recent successes. After 2 TDs today and 1 INT and with a top-notch team effort, Brett led the Jets to victory over the Titans, taking away Tennessee's perfect record. The tally: 20TDs, 13 INTs.

Elective unemployment is great and all, but when you run out of money and you're still unemployed, things get a little . . . uncomfortable. I've therefore been spending the past two weeks solidly searching for work, and it makes sitting at the computer practically unbearable. It exhausts me to the point that I don't even have anything to say with regard to Brett Favre. Or anything else for that matter. Weak!

He's On A Roll!

2008-11-15T11:29:00.002-05:00

Congrats again to Brett Favre, who had a dynamite game on Thursday night against the Pats in NFL Week 11: The Preview.* 2 more TDs and 0 INTs! That makes 18 TDs and 12 INTs, and the Jets are in 1st place in the AFC East. Wowee, Brett. Wowee.

*Yeah, I watched the highlights. They were pretty spectacular.

Hey, Hey, Brett Favre!

2008-11-11T09:39:00.003-05:00

Nice work in week 10! #4 added one to his TD tally and none to his INT tally. After 10 weeks he's at 16 TDs and 12 INTs.

Meanwhile, over in San Francisco, Shaun Hill is still at the helm while J.T. O'Sullivan sits on the bench. Brett's on his best behavior . . .

Oh Boy

2008-11-06T12:27:00.003-05:00

So the election's in the bag. What next for Barack Obama? Preemptive damage control.

Dubya's Legacy?

2008-11-05T08:11:00.004-05:00

On this historic morning, I couldn't help but think of how President Bush must be feeling. I'm gonna go ahead and think of him as Lutz in this clip from "30 Rock." He must just want to shove the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and get the hell away from the raving mob.

But he probably wants to solidify his legacy, too. I've thought about some things he can do to get the White House and the presidency ready for Barack Obama, things I think he'd be very proud of himself for doing. Things that would make him chuckle like he does. Things that would show America who the real decider is. Things that would ensure he is not remembered as the worst president ever. Here they are:

1. Pull the troops out of Iraq right now. Take that away from Obama. Give the American people the first taste of the disappointment they'll no doubt feel over and over again as Obama breaks his word!

2. Childproof all drawers and cabinets in the White House. That's what Laura does whenever she wants to hide something from W. He'll be useless without pens, staplers, and dishes!

3. Start misspelling Obama's name, so that when Jay Leno interviews Americans on the street and asks if they can spell their president's name, they won't have a chance. Nobody could misspell Bush.

4. Fake Dick Cheney's and his own death. Nancy Pelosi steps into the presidency and makes history before Obama! (This is also a great idea because it allows for plenty of punking opportunities featuring W. as a ghost!)

5. Fart in the Oval Office chair. A lot.

Yay, the election is over! I can't help but feel a little sorry for John McCain, even if I disagreed with a lot of things about his campaign. It's been a long road but the right man for right now won (timing really is everything, and it was not on McCain's side this time). Congratulations, America.

Why Sarah Palin, Are Those Boot-Cut Jeans You Wore To Cast Your Vote Today?

2008-11-04T21:08:00.004-05:00

Oh no she didn't! (But ya know, she really does rock them.)* I wonder if the McCain campaign's outlook was so bleak that they already donated those fancy duds of hers?

*I acknowledge that by drawing attention to her jeans-wearing, I am perpetuating the notion that we are a sexist nation incapable of taking seriously the idea that a woman could hold the office of "commander-in-chief." But seriously, Hillary wouldn't dream of wearing jeans. Ever.

NFL Week 9: I Still Don't Believe The Giants Are All That Good

2008-11-03T14:56:00.004-05:00

Hey, the Jets won! Unfortunately for Brett, he added to his INT tally (12) but not his TD tally (15). Also unfortunately for Brett, that INT was returned for a TD. Still unfortunately for Brett, the 49ers had a bye, so J.T. O'Sullivan didn't get to throw any interceptions this week.

Oh no! Could this explain it?

But more importantly, are the Giants really that good? I didn't believe it last year, and I still don't. They're competent and they're well-coached, but I'm never stunned by their play. It seems to me that their opponent just plays worse than the Giants do every week, and that's why they keep winning. Yeah, Eli, that's right. I'm not impressed.

Down to the Wire in the Purple States

2008-11-03T14:12:00.009-05:00

I've decided no longer to call them Battleground States. It may be that they're being fought over, but the other states get colors and "battleground" has a lot of syllables. So in honor of their wacky, indecisive mix of red and blue, I'm going to call them Purple States.

America, this is you.

The election is tomorrow, and the ads aren't letting up. In fact, over the weekend they've become nastier, but it's the kind of nasty that comes off as funny. Obama's latest has creepy pictures of George W. Bush in the side and rearview mirrors of a car set to the question "Want to know where John McCain's economic plan will take the country?" The answer, of course, is revealed by looking behind us. Doesn't sound like prgoress, does it? The pro-McCain ad du jour is just plain absurd. Scary-Voiced Dude asks if we'd get on a plane with a pilot who's never flown. If we'd leave our child with someone who's never cared for children. If we'd go under with a surgeon who's never operated. Can we wait while he learns, Scary-Voiced Dude asks?

The Washington Post has an article today about the fight-to-the-finish campaigns. Of course, the Purple States are seeing the worst of this, and it's taking a toll. With that in mind, I propose that the day after Election Day should be a holiday in all Purple States. We'll call it Purple Wednesday, and Purple Staters will get a free espresso beverage at Starbucks instead of just a plain old free coffee. Because we deserve it!

Tina Fey for . . . Mom of the Year?

2008-10-30T12:18:00.001-04:00

I adore Tina Fey with the same intensity with which I adore pork products. She's funny as hell. (I'm still not sure why she was ever considered an "unlikely" sex symbol. If she's unlikely, what with her brains, her humor, her sharpness, and her bangin' bod, I think the rest of us possessing a decent personality and even a small amount of wit should just give up. Now that everybody loves her, we may have to give up anyway since that bitch set the bar so high. But I really ought to end my parentheses now.)

So even though it's lights-out for me at 10:00 p.m. on my new schedule and I therefore missed her appearance on "Late Night with Conan O'Brien" the other day to promote the season premiere of "30 Rock" ("30 Rock" premieres tonight at 9:30 on NBC!), I caught it online and I have something to say.

While the Bristol-Palin-as-baby-sitter-for-Fey's-toddler bit was hilarious in itself, didn't Tina and Conan miss out on one very obvious punchline, i.e. that Bristol could have used the practice? Just sayin'.

Part 2 of the interview:

What's Wrong With Me If . . .

2008-10-30T12:04:00.002-04:00

the first thing I think upon opening an email with a coupon and the following instructions from the friend who sent it to me is, "Don't tell me what to do!"

Print this out and take to your Origins store for free mini facial and sample products.

Oh, and I didn't do it, either. Yeah, suck it!

Something Smells Fish: Fresh From Today's Washington Post

2008-10-29T14:14:00.005-04:00

One of the benefits of elective unemployment is the amount of time you have to do things you never used to do: go to the gym, figure out what "On Demand" is, shower as infrequently as possible, and read the paper.

Today's Washington Post had an interesting bit of news from Japan:

Toilets a Worry if Tokyo Quakes
Japan's disaster prevention panel said that nearly a million people would be unable to find a toilet if a major earthquake were to hit Tokyo on a weekday. The panel studied a simulation of a magnitude-7.3 noon-time quake in the capital.

Wow. Where even to begin?

1. WHY wouldn't they be able to find a toilet? (Jeez, Post, don't forget the W's of newspaper reporting!) Is there a toilet shortage in downtown Tokyo? Shouldn't they fix that now, before disaster strikes?

2. If all else failed, couldn't a Japanese person let go of decorum in consideration of the emergency, if only long enough to relieve him or herself behind a dumpster, or in a McDonald's?

3. Surely bottled water is a more pressing need in a major disaster. Do they intend to fill their water bottles from toilets? Is that the problem? Seriously, why toilets?

4. If the earth were shaking and you were huddled under your desk for protection, what could possibly make you think to leave shelter to seek out a toilet? Haven't you already soiled yourself?

Life In Batttleground State Virginia: It's Getting Ugly

2008-10-29T13:16:00.005-04:00

I moved out of my NYC apartment and into the folks' place in Northern Virginia. I've been here for less than a week and am still playing catch-up. As the election was heating up mid-month, I got really excited about the idea of voting in Virginia (Battleground State!), where my vote could really make a difference. Unfortunately, I had already missed the Virginia voter registration deadline and I was stuck having to arrange for an absentee New York ballot. That hasn't stopped me from taking part in all the indecisive fun here, though.

Last week when I crossed the American Legion bridge into Virginia, I saw the usual old-school welcome sign:

Really, Virginia? Really? Do you know it's 2008?

Below it were symptoms of this fine state's -- er, commonwealth's -- indecision: a McCain/Palin sign and an Obama/Biden sign, right next to each other. The further into Virginia I drove (and I had about 11 miles still to go at this point), the more campaign signs I saw, not only for the number one office but also for House and Senate races. They are EVERYWHERE here. And it doesn't stop there. Every time the phone rings it's a campaign worker urging Fairfax County residents to vote one way or the other. (Apparently McCain's recorded voice itself has called here, but I haven't been home for that.) Worse yet, the other night some dude showed up at our door! Now I have to be surreptitious in ascertaining who's knocking at the door so as not to alert them of my presence within. It's either that or make a scene. I almost told the mailman to get the eff off my property today. (See, that's funny because it's not my property. And because he's the mailman and he has what I want.)

Then of course there are the TV commercials. In New York I saw the occasional TV ad for Obama or McCain, but here you can't pass a single commercial break without at least two political campaign ads. And they're getting ugly. A popular (read: ubiquitous) one now -- which is not endorsed by John McCain -- features an empty oval office chair (um . . . so what? We're used to that.) and narration from Scary-Voiced Dude reminding us that "this crisis" will be Obama's first. Scary-Voiced Dude doesn't stop there. Oh no. He also insults Americans, chiding us for considering electing "one of the most inexperienced candidates" ever to this high office. So now in addition to being terrified I'm also being reproached. Nice.

Another anti-Obama ad, this one approved by McCain, focuses on Joe Biden's foot-in-mouth ("Oh wait, guys, I meant tongue-in-cheek! See, it was all just a silly misunderstanding!") blunder. I mean, when Biden gives them material like that, these commercial-maker guys don't even have to work! They just print the highlights of his speech across the screen and have Scary-Voiced Dude announce at the end that Barack Obama is "untested" and "dangerous" and they've got advertising magic!

Having just moved to the Old Dominion, I don't have much of a handle on the local House and Senate races, but their ads are no less ruthless. My favorite -- and I don't even remember whom it promotes or whom it slanders -- ends with the following: "[Candidate's name here]: too corrupt, even for Congress." Classic! Because, you know, the candidate the ad promotes has juuuuust the right amount of corruption for Congress. A regular Goldilocks.

But they're not all malicious. Some ads just don't say anything. A current Obama ad begins with the senator narrating, "John McCain wants to scare you. I want you to know what I believe." The next 26 seconds are chock-full of idealism regulated by a steady hand, a firm resolve, and a warm smile, as close to aw shucks as Obama is ever going to get. But does it promise anything? No? And it doesn't slander the other guy either? Bo-ring. That's the thing, see. Obama is out-spending McCain by oodles (that's a precise mathematical term) on TV ads, but I can't seem to retain the content of any of them.

With the election less than a week away, I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of final-stretch antics are pulled out. McCain doesn't buy into the polls, so Virginia is still very much up for grabs in his mind, and he wants it. Obama wants it too. But we Virginians don't show our hand easily. See, being wooed may get old, but being a tease never does.

NFL Weeks 7 & 8: Brett Sighs With Relief Upon Learning I Didn't Watch

2008-10-29T12:52:00.008-04:00

Your guys are wearing WHITE, J.T.

It wasn't a great couple of weeks for Brett Favre, according to the stats. (I confess again to not watching, although my access to more than highlights has been essentially cut off.) In Week 7 against Oakland, he threw 2 INTs and 0 TDs. Ouch. Last week against Kansas City, where the Jets at least pulled off the win, he threw 2 TDs and 3 INTs. After Week 8, he's at 15 TDs and 11 INTs.

All I have to say is this: Thank GOODness for J.T. O'Sullivan. He's pacing Brett on INTs (they're tied for most in the league), but he has about half as many TDs. (And that dude plays for my favorite team. Boo.)

NFL Week 6: Still Not Really Caring

2008-10-13T18:33:00.003-04:00

Brett threw 2 INTs and 1 TD against the Bengals. The total is 13 TDs and 6 INTs. But more importantly:

WHY does Belichick insist on wearing that silly sweatshirt?

Brett Favre Interception Watch: Weeks Three, Four, and Five? Oh, Who Cares!

2008-10-10T23:50:00.001-04:00

I just got back from Hawaii! I've been far too busy to think about Brett. I had very important things to do, like hike, swim, eat, and drink. (He's doing great, by the way -- 12 TDs and only 4 INTs!, and he's sporting his best QB rating ever. I'm being proven wrong week by week, and that's okay with me.)

Back to my trip! I landed on Thursday evening, September 25, and was pretty much a goner. I think I was in bed sometime just after 8:00. The next day, Friday the 26th, I also took it pretty easy. I went with my aunt to the beach at the Sheraton Kauai (it's one of my favorite beaches anywhere) and we had lunch and drinks there. Exhausting! That night we took in the Kauai Mokihana Festival's hula competition. Most of the rest of the days were more exciting and deserve their own posts, which will come in due time as I'm spending the next 5 days packing up my apartment for my move home. Regression is a good thing!

(I'm in full-swing Elective Unemployment mode. I called to change my address with T-Mobile and the overly-perky customer service agent asked me if I was getting ready for the weekend. Honestly, I didn't even know what day it was. I think my silence made her uncomfortable. I seem to be getting worse at coming up with something to say on the spot.)

Usually when I visit Hawaii I'll go to more than one island, but this trip was only Kauai, just like I needed it. Kauai is a very special place for me and I inevitably suffer while there from nostalgic fits of Why-Don't-I-Live-Here-ness. So what exactly is so special about Kauai, you ask? Here's a very brief listing:

1. The wildlife. There actually isn't very much that's native to Hawaii, compared to other places. A lot of wildlife (and especially a lot of flora and fauna) was introduced both by the Polynesians who settled the Islands and the nasty Westerners who conquered them. The two introduced creatures that thrive on Kauai today are the wild chicken and the wild pig. Yup, very exotic, I know. Here are our barnyard friends:

My how their crowing is a bother at 2:30 am.

The big one is actually chasing the little one to get his food.

There are also Hawaiian monk seals in abundance sunning on local beaches and green sea turtles ("honu" in Hawaiian) in droves off the south shore of the island in Poipu. These guys are probably a little more special but somehow less novel to tourists.

A sea turtle! I swear he's there!

2. The buildings. Kauai's law mandates that no building can be taller than the height of a mature coconut tree (approximately 48 feet). We noticed when we spent some time at the Marriott that it was obviously built before this law took effect as even the tallest trees were shorter than the Marriott's towers. Anyway, an example of a Kauai building of typical height (but atypical message):

Soon, hopefully, is relative.

3. The terrain. Kauai is home to Waimea Canyon (the "Grand Canyon of the Pacific"), Kokee State Park (which houses the world's highest-elevated swamp, called Alakai, and several giant Redwood forests among other natural wonders and indigenous bird species), Mount Waialeale (alternately called "The Wettest Spot on Earth" and "One of the Wettest Spots on Earth" depending on who's fact-checking), and the Na Pali coast with its rugged cliffs and famous Kalalau Trail (which I did, and which conquered me). I'm always blown away by the diversity of the terrain. Where else can you get arid landscapes, barking sands, tropical rainforests, lazy freshwater rivers, dramatic sea cliffs, a painted canyon, all the tropical flowers you'd ever want to see or smell, huge waves for surfing, acres and acres of rich farmland, tower-like waterfalls, pristine beaches, and over 400 inches of rain per year all on one island?

Mahaulepu, on the dry south shore

Waimea Canyon

A ginger grove in the forest

Redwoods in the tropics!

Poipu sunset

Lumahai beach on a turbulent day

Brett Favre Interception Watch: Week Two

2008-09-14T18:55:00.005-04:00

I admit to failing in my vigilance. But I was busy last week, folks, and he didn't throw any (note that Week One resulted on my chewing on my own feet)! So today I dutifully watched the Jets-Patriots game in order to report the results of Brett Favre Interception Watch 2008, Week Two. And my watching was rewarded! Sort of.

The Jets lost. Favre threw a touchdown. He also threw an interception! The funny thing, if you could call it that, was that I completely missed it. I was in the other room preparing dinner. Of all the luck -- I step out of the room for five minutes, and he throws an interception! Was it his fault? Will I ever know? There were no highlights post-game!

Anyway, here's the tally so far in 2008:

TDs: 3
INTs: 1

He's +2 so far. Keep it up, Brett the Jet. My foot tastes good, anyway.

Blog All About It

2008-09-14T17:37:00.011-04:00

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind, with work being crazy as I try to tie up all my loose ends and a trip to California to see my family last week. That trip was great and relaxing, and tomorrow I begin -- with a mixture of dread, excitement, and anticipated relief -- my last week at work.

Last Saturday I took off for San Francisco and upon landing was picked up by an old high school friend, whom I actually had not seen in 12 years. Although she was looking for "a blonde girl" (things have changed thanks to the cold and harsh northeast), I spotted her easily. We met two other long-lost friends from high school who live in the S.F. Bay Area at a restaurant in San Francisco's North Beach neighborhood called Rose Pistola. I had so much fun seeing my old friends, despite not being able to cope fully with the realization that we are all 'adults" now. I think the meal was pretty good. I know it was expensive. In any case I was wrecked. I got home to Grandma's late and fell into bed.

The real highlight of my trip was our mini family reunion on the north shore of Lake Tahoe. Unfortunately, my aunt, uncle, and cousins who live in the Bay Area were unable to join us so just five of us -- my aunt and uncle from Hawaii, my divorced grandparents, and me -- went to Tahoe and stayed in a house we rented for four nights. Before undertaking our three-plus hour drive, we stopped to have lunch with the family members who weren't coming along. It's always so nice to see them (and swim in their pool). My aunt went all-out with the food -- we had bbq'd chicken, southwest slaw, broccoli salad, green salad, fruit salad, and lemon cheesecake, all homemade. I'm still waiting for those southwest slaw and lemon cheesecake recipes (and will post them when I get them; you'll thank me).

After fueling up, we began the drive to the lake. We rented a gigantic SUV that somehow still didn't fit all of our stuff, so several suitcases had to be strapped on top. Oh, and I was sitting in the middle of the back seat in between my sparring grandparents. (It's all in good fun . . . I think.) When we finally arrived, everyone was ready either for bed or for a drink.

We're finally here!

The next day (Monday) we got a visit from my grandmother's niece (i.e. my aunt's first cousin and my . . . well, according to Wikipedia she's my first cousin, once removed) and her husband, who live in Sparks, NV. We sat around catching up, walked to our neighborhood beach (where I, of course, took a dip), and looked at old photos cousin Chris brought of my grandmother's family. Hearing Chris's stories -- and she is a great storyteller -- about my great-grandparents and great aunts and uncles definitely piqued my interest in my genealogy (to be continued here, no doubt).

By the way, if you ever want to piss someone from Nevada off, call it NevAHda.

A short five-minute walk led to our local beach, small but uncrowded and perfect for swimming and exploring. One of the things that makes Lake Tahoe special is its water clarity. The water is as clear as you'd find in the Caribbean, thanks to some sort of strange science thing that prevents algae from accumulating and causing the murkiness so typical of other lakes. Lake Tahoe is also the second-deepest lake in the United States (at its deepest 1645 ft). Because of its depth, I read, Lake Tahoe never freezes in the winter (except of course at the shore where it's shallow). For facts about Lake Tahoe, click here. The place is stunning and a great destination any time of year (just be sure to put your turkey in early if you go for Thanksgiving).

On the way to our local beach

Looking west at our beach

A choppy day at the beach and a furry friend undeterred.

Tuesday we saw another visitor, our family friend Randy, who spent just over 8 years building his very own plane from a kit. For the past few years since it's been finished, I've been wondering -- loudly, at that -- when I would get a ride in it. I even joked to Randy when I told him of our Tahoe plans that he should fly down from his Vancouver, WA home to see us and give me a ride. And he didn't disappoint.

Randy's homemade plane

It was alternately thrilling and terrifying flying with Randy. The thrills were due to his impeccable flying and the lake's natural beauty. The terrors were thanks to the strong (by my judgement) winds that day, which caused an unusually (by Randy's judgement) bumpy ride, especially over the mountains.

Not exactly comforting to a first-time passenger.

A photo attempt was thwarted, in fact, by one of these bumps, but the result is pretty perfect given the circumstances.

Truly white knuckles.

While we flew out over the lake, Randy and I talked through our headsets. He told me we were at about 9000 feet, or about 3000 feet above the lake (yes, I had to ask for a clarification).

The ski slopes of Northstar at Tahoe

A Lake Tahoe beach from the air.

My view behind the pilot of Lake Tahoe's expanse.

Coming in for a landing with the runway ahead.

Randy, like Chris, is a great storyteller, and it had been ages since any of us had seen him so we had a blast together. Sadly he had to get home before dark (a hazard of private plane travel, at least when you have an unlighted strip of grass to land on) so our visit was cut short.

Our third and final full day in Tahoe was kind of a lazy day, so basically no different from the others. We went out to dinner and did a little gambling at the Blackjack table at the Hyatt (Lake Tahoe straddles Nevada and California; once you cross the state line to Nevada there is a marked difference in ambiance -- flashy lights, cigarette smoke, and ker-ching noises replace serenity, clean air, and the crunch, crunch of hikers walking over a bed of pine needles). Dinner was great. Gambling we won't discuss. The next day was back to the Bay Area, with a stop en route for Mexican food at my request (which turned into pleading after GPS led us to "downtown" Davis in the middle of rush hour; we ended up in much-quieter Dixon).

I spent my last night in California at my aunt and uncle's hotel so I could walk to BART and ride the train to the airport in the morning. We drank some and reminisced a lot, and, as always, it was sad for me to leave the next morning. Even though I barely recall living in the Bay Area and can find my way around only with direction, there is always something about being there that feels like home. My family's memories seem to be around every corner.

It was a fun few days, just long enough so that no one killed each other. Despite our differences, we inevitably unite, probably thanks to my pressure to continue doing so. I may be the only one who admits to enjoying our time together, but I'd like to think I'm not alone in feeling it. There is always tension, there are always jabs, but there are is also always a ton of laughs and good memories formed. I walk away from time with my family feeling warm and knowing that they are good people who love me. It doesn't get much better than that, as cheesy as it sounds.

Driving home from Newark airport, I smiled to myself as I crossed an interchange of the very same I-80 we'd spent close to 7 hours on, singing, bickering, and reminiscing some 2500 miles away.

Professional Parting Of Ways Or Break-Up?

2008-08-28T11:26:00.006-04:00

The day after sticking to my decision and the day after the day after announcing it, a very strange feeling came over me, and one I absolutely did not see coming (at least not in the context of leaving my job). It wasn't regret or guilt or relief. It was sadness, and it was intense. Being so unexpected, I had no way of coping with it and had to let it take over for awhile. It was the last thing I expected to feel, and it brought with it a compassion for the people I'm leaving behind at my job. All these years I knew I was valuable, but I would not have guessed that my value transferred so extensively to a personal level. It took me by surprise, and my shock manifested as a deep, deep sadness over the mutual (if temporary) emptiness my boss and I will both feel. To be cared for, even if it's not always healthy or mutually beneficial, is a powerful and special thing.

The important things are to know when to move on and to be able to separate emotions from actions. Part of my sadness, if I am to analyze myself, comes from having made a decision I believed to be a practical and unemotional one that turned out to have an unexpected consequence: a genuine emotional reaction from my boss, which in turned sparked my own. I was prepared for a fight, but I wasn't prepared for a hug.

In any case, I have to deal with, learn from, and be thankful for these strange feelings as they pop up. I have to realize that a certain amount of discomfort is going to come with a new beginning. I have to give myself a chance, or I'll never know either how good I've had it or how much I've been missing.

I've Gone And Done It

2008-08-26T19:49:00.005-04:00

Today I finalized the first step of my still-forming plan: I gave my notice at work. My emotions are mixed and I'm still processing; I've definitely considered the ramifications but in reality I have no idea what's coming. There's a sense of relief, but there's also a nagging uncertainty. The goal is, instead of letting it become my enemy, to exploit that uncertainty. To that end I am considering this a challenge, a self-administered test I have no choice but to pass. And that's about all I can say right now.

Today's Childhood Rediscovery

2008-08-21T16:57:00.003-04:00

I recently remembered a favorite treat from my childhood, Iced Circus Animal cookies, which are animal crackers dipped in pink or white icing and covered with tiny rainbow-colored candy sprinkle balls. After listening to me go on and on about them (but not having ever heard of or tasted them herself), a friend of mine saw them on display at the supermarket and picked up a bag for me. And I've been stuffing my face with them nonstop since. Isn't it amazing to rediscover something you loved as a kid and find that it's still as wonderful as you remember it? Now THIS is a happy moment.

The Very Mysterious Mystery of the Milk Cartons in NYC

2008-08-20T12:50:00.002-04:00

I've wondered since becoming independent in New York City (and by extension purchasing milk on a regular basis) why there are two sell-by dates on milk cartons sold in the area. There is the standard sell-by date and then there is the NYC sell-by date, which is typically two to three days earlier than the standard sell-by date. Well, mystery solved. Not surprisingly, it has to do with city regulations on how long a grocer can sell milk after 6:00 a.m. on the day of pasteurization. Thank you, Gothamist, for enlightening me. I'm glad to see there are others curious about this (one of very, very many) New York City quirk.

Selling Myself

2008-08-19T18:22:00.000-04:00

I'm not very comfortable with it (or good at it), and yet I've got to figure out a way to be. My indecision with regard to my future has messed me up to the point that I don't feel I have anything all that great even to say about myself. Now as I begin writing cover letters (again) I'm finding it difficult to muster the enthusiasm I once felt for my transferable skills.

I've written some pretty good cover letters in my time, or so I thought. They didn't get me hired. (In fact, what got me hired at my current position was my GPA and alma mater.) In a cover letter I focus not only on my skills but also on my passions -- how I make a connection with my product, how I pride myself on the quality of my work. I relate the relevance of a personal or professional experience to the job I'm applying for. I tailor each resume submission accordingly. I put a lot of myself into a job application, which means I spend a lot of time on it and I take it personally when I'm not considered. I don't see how the personal touches could be so easily overlooked, but in reality, isn't the person looking at these documents merely glancing, scanning, absorbing words here and there, but not the full picture? Am I putting too much of myself into (i.e. working too hard on) these job applications?

Most jobs these days are posted online and offer as a point of contact only an email address (and usually a generic one so you can't get a person's name, e.g. resumes@abc123.com), with an all-caps warning: "NO PHONE CALLS." In this day and age, you'd think a passionate cover letter would be just the ticket to impress a prospective employer given that you can't get any face or voice time like you could in the old days. You'd think in the flood of mundane applications that one demonstrating the respondent's actual personality would stand out at least a little. Well I thought about these things last night as I re-evaluated a cover letter I'd written earlier this summer and that I intend to revise this week to apply for a different position at the same company. Studying my words, I saw the requisite boring stuff about my skills and achievements, but I also saw the anecdotes about my education and experiences that tied me to the company's mission, and how these anecdotes offered up my human side to the prospective employer. I saw all this and I got frustrated. In conclusion, let me borrow from Carrie Bradshaw. As I reflected on the many hours I spent on cover letter brainstorming sessions that proved in the end to be no more than an exercise in missing valuable sleep on a weeknight, I couldn't help but wonder: Have we been OVER-selling ourselves? Or are there really so many more qualified candidates than me? Maybe it's time to streamline. If nothing else at least it would allow for more job applications completed.

I Have Nothing To Say, So I'll Post Some Favorite Travel Photos

2008-08-18T22:40:00.002-04:00

With any luck, to be continued. And continued, and continued. . .

Papohaku Beach on Mokokai, HI

Foothills on Kauai, HI

California Wine Country

Smoky Mountains Cabin

Cades Cove (Smoky Mountains) Stream

British Museum Interior

Beijing - Forbidden City

China's Great Wall

Saugerties, NY Lighthouse

The F.A.M.S.B.T.T. Results

2008-08-18T20:20:00.010-04:00

Well, the results are in. I don't want to say that the F.A.M.S.B.T.T. was a bust, but I also can't say that I'm going to be looking for a job as a sommelier any time soon.

Below, a recap of the contenders, the judges' comments, and the final decision.

The Contenders:

Contender #1 (The Favorite): Kim Crawford 2007 Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc, $11.99

Contender #2 (The Challenger): Cooper's Creek 2007 Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc, $8.99

Contender #3 (The Longshot): King Shag 2007 Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc, $7.99

The Judges' Comments:

Judge #1 described the Kim Crawford as "better" than the King Shag. The King Shag he deemed "verdant," and the Cooper's Creek impressed him with its "spiciness."

Judge #2 disagreed with his characterization of the Cooper's Creek as spicy; she found it fruity and on the sweet side. The Kim Crawford smelled and tasted "fuller" to her than the others. King Shag, she felt, tasted the "cheapest" and offered a "very green" finish.

Judge #3 (yours truly) also got a green feel from the King Shag, in which she tasted grass. She found the Cooper's Creek to be the lightest of the wines with a hint of green pepper, while the Kim Crawford had a fuller flavor and a syrupy mouthfeel with tropical fruit hints.

The Final Decision:

Pour 'em all!

All three were delicious (a cop out, I know). Who can decide? I leaned toward the old standby Kim Crawford, but it might be worth it to do a blind tasting next time to see how/if that changes things. Kim Crawford is a great buy at under $15 and it has a good reputation. In fact, during our tasting another friend stopped by and when we offered her a glass of it she said, "Ooooh, I love Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc!" So there you have it.

Don't Get Me Started

2008-08-15T09:35:00.003-04:00

My friend Pam recently blogged about her English-language pet peeve, which got me to thinking about my own. There are undoubtedly several, but the one that really jumped out at me is this (I'll demonstrate with an example): "A recent study demonstrated that more women ride the bus." This was in today's paper.

More women ride the bus than WHAT? More women than men ride the bus? More women ride the bus in 2008 than rode the bus in 1998? More women ride the bus than ride the subway? More women ride the bus than ride in cars? More women ride the bus than ride horses (or cowboys)?

You simply canNOT make that statement. You MUST elaborate.

It absolutely infuriates me when people try to make a comparative statement but leave off the most important part. Have we become that lazy?

The F.A.M.S.B.T.T.

2008-08-14T15:39:00.001-04:00

My sister is the first to point out that my memory sucks.* Buuuuuut I will not forget (or at least have not yet forgotten) discovering the wonderful Sauvignon Blanc from Marlborough, New Zealand, which for about a year now has been my white wine of choice. I first tasted a Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc last May at a big family dinner. I certainly didn't order it and probably even grumbled at its being ordered, but once I tasted it I made sure the bottle stayed on my end of the table. That MSB was by Kim Crawford, and it was the first wine in which I was accurately and unmistakably able to identify an actual organic flavor in wine. (It was passion fruit, which gave this wine an edge given my weakness for tropical fruit.) I subsequently not only committed to memory the name Kim Crawford, but I also went out and told my friends about it.

This weekend I've planned the First Annual MSB Taste Test. While it's obviously an excuse to consume a lot of wine, I'd like to consider it a learning experience too. Who knows when wine flavor-identifying skills will come in handy? I intend to hone mine now (especially with unemployment on the horizon).

We'll be pitting Kim Crawford against two or three other contenders. Full details -- and of course, results -- to follow.

*(She's right. In fact I very nearly recounted my discovery of Kim Crawford as having happened at her high school graduation dinner when in fact it was at my stepmom's grad school graduation dinner.)

My Peruvian Dreams Have Turned To Poi

2008-08-13T16:34:00.008-04:00

It has been my dream for the past several years (since seeing a History Channel special on Machu Picchu; I am a big fan of ruins) to go to Peru. And even before Machu Picchu, I'd dreamed of floating down the Amazon in an itty bitty boat looking for pink river dolphins. This dream formed in first-year Environmental Science class and while at that time I felt this experience had to happen in Brazil, I've since learned that Peru's Amazon is far more untouched than Brazil's and just as ecologically exciting. I got the silly idea I'd be able to afford this trip to Lima/Cusco/Machu Picchu/the Amazon between jobs (the job following this one, mind you, is still hypothetical at this point), and reluctantly came to the conclusion that while I could certainly spend all of my money and go to Peru, I'd come back broke and unemployed. Not wishing to default on loans but at the same time wishing to do a little between-job (there I go again) soul searching, I considered other places to which I might travel without depleting my entire savings account.

And the obvious answer was Kauai. The decision was basically made for me by the almost-unbelievable airfare (and I believe it only because I bought it) to Honolulu, combined with the chance to see an old friend who'll be visiting and my aunt and uncle who live there. So Peru is on hold for now, but I know it will happen.

This trip is a big step, as it more or less cements my unemployment plans. Yay, or oy? A little bit of both, I think.

Waimea Canyon, my Machu Picchu substitute

I Want One!

2008-08-11T17:25:00.004-04:00

I realize this video has been around for awhile and gets a lot of attention, but I couldn't resist posting it. Watching it for the first time, I'm ashamed to say, my eyes welled up and I felt a sudden and powerful urge to nuzzle my own (if much, much smaller) feline.

I have two questions:

1. Is it possible my own Stanley would recognize and embrace me after a long separation? I'd like to think so, though I hope never to have to test it.

2. Um, where can I get a baby lion? I was at Harrod's a couple years ago and they didn't have any.

Here, Stanley demonstrates his best stand-n-hug.

Don't Buy Me A Jersey Just Yet

2008-08-11T14:26:00.001-04:00

I've been taking some heat over my post on Football Legend! Brett Favre. I stand by my words, first and foremost. I'll add, however, that I do respect his work at Green Bay, especially his games-played streak, and before this I've never had any issue with him that wasn't related to interception-throwing. I don't blame him solely for the fiasco that was his return to pro football, and I don't blame him for moving on in the end; it was the idea of the return I groaned over. After all, I didn't stop liking Joe Montana when he went to the Chiefs. It never did feel the same after that, though, and I imagine a lot of Packers fans will share that strange feeling come September. It would have been a different story entirely a) if he weren't "retiring age" or b) if he hadn't already retired, but as it stands, in the presence of the settling dust I've been wondering how much "about the fans" it can ever really be.

Favre has already connected with fans here (they even cheered him on as he ran a penalty lap at practice for botching a snap the other day -- no comment) but New Yorkers are notorious for their fickleness when it comes to sports figures. He comes here with what is essentially a clean slate, and he'll face our invasive and scrutinous media and fans who are quick to judge (and do so collectively). His accomplishments at Green Bay won't mean a thing to New Yorkers -- and even, albeit to a lesser extent, to historians -- if he doesn't deliver here. It's not the kind of pressure I'd ever want. In any case, I am tepidly rooting for his success, thank you very much, even if I don't approve. (That's both because I'm not a Vikings or Bears fan and because it pains me to see an aging QB embarrass himself.)

But don't be surprised if I keep an interception tally this fall.

When Not Fretting, I Can Usually Be Found Eating

2008-08-11T12:10:00.000-04:00

Coping with indecision is exhausting and requires frequent refueling. As I find it relevant -- not that relevance matters -- and as I am in charge here anyway, I'll begin posting some favorite recipes/dishes.

A friend of mine developed the following delicious recipe as a variation of something she'd seen online. It's an easy family meal, goes great with a salad, and even works as leftovers (not something I usually have to worry about). Consider it a sort of Tex-Mex shepherd's pie.

Taco Pie Larue

1 box Jiffy (or similar) corn muffin mix (requires 1 egg and 1/3 cup milk)
1 - 1.5 lb lean ground turkey
1 medium onion, chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
4 oz shredded cheddar cheese
3/4 cup frozen corn kernels
2 scallions
2 chipotle peppers in adobo, minced (more or less to taste; they're very spicy. Those seeking a milder experience can substitute 1/3 cup taco sauce or 1 tbsp taco seasoning + 1 tbsp water.)
Salt to taste
1 8 oz container lite sour cream

In a saucepan, saute the onions until they begin to soften. Add the meat, garlic, and salt and saute until the meat is just cooked. In the meantime, prepare the corn muffin mix in a mixing bowl. After mixing, fold in the cheddar cheese, corn kernels, and scallions and mix to incorporate. Into the meat stir in the chipotle peppers or taco sauce, then transfer the meat mixture to a baking dish. Pour the corn muffin mix over the meat mixture and bake according to the corn muffin mix instructions. (Note that depending on the size and type of the baking dish, you may need to increase the baking time to accommodate for the thickness of the corn muffin mix layer. Test it with a butter knife or toothpick before serving to make sure the mix is thoroughly cooked.) Serve with sour cream.

If You're Happy And You Know It, Kick Your Legs

2008-08-08T09:48:00.001-04:00

There's something about putting two babies together on a blanket and watching them wiggle that causes hysteria in childbearing-age women. Last weekend such hysteria ensued when my godson had his first date with his future girlfriend. (They had met before, but neither was dressed for the occasion.) He shyly initiated by touching her neck. She consented to hand-holding, then realized just how pleasant his stroking her neck had been and took charge of the situation. Now, lest it be interpreted from the sequence that my godson is hanging out with a loose lady, I must point out that she has two months on him. It's only natural for her to show him the ropes.

Just To Be Clear, I'm a 49ers Fan

2008-08-08T09:46:00.000-04:00

What, Bernie Kosar Wouldn't Take Their Calls?

2008-08-07T23:10:00.001-04:00

What is it the Jets love so much about old quarterbacks?

It's an exciting time in New York! The Yankees and the Mets are playing baseball, and I don't have any idea how either team is doing (but it's quiet enough that I assume they aren't either winning or losing their divisions these days). There are some basketball and hockey teams here, and I suppose people care about them, but it's not basketball or hockey season so that means we must all be gearing up for . . . FOOTBALL! Yay.

The Giants are the defending Super Bowl champions (I still find this hard to believe) so expectations are high. In order to compete and not to feel mediocre next to Big Blue (wait, the Giants aren't mediocre?), the Jets had to go and sign Brett Fav-re, the almost-39-year-old Green Bay legend who should have retired not after last season but the season before. Can anybody forget that season, aka the season of more interceptions than touchdowns? This guy couldn't find a green jersey on the field to save his life. So I'm sorry, Gang Green, but things aren't looking good (unless you change your colors to purple/yellow, black/orange, or blue/silver).

I feel naughty writing smack about Mr. Favre. Everybody knows elders are to be respected, and elderly heroes are especially taboo! So I'll happily eat my words if the Jets make it past the wild card round in 2008.

Yes, I'm That Interesting

2008-08-07T20:55:00.000-04:00

It still amazes me when I turn on the TV hoping to find something, anything, other than the same episode of "Ugly Betty" I saw last time I turned on the TV hoping to find something, anything, other than the same episode of "Ugly Betty" . . .

Which also happens to be one of only two or three episodes of "Ugly Betty" I've ever seen.

Greece in Review: In Which I Prove Either My Keen Observation Skills or My Reckless Ignorance

2008-08-05T21:50:00.000-04:00

I went to Greece not just for a wedding but also to experience a new place and culture. Here I present what I've learned about the Greeks, a gross generalization that is probably offensive and also at least partly inaccurate. But please understand that it comes from my own observations, which are rooted in nothing but endearment, and which are mine for the judging (and sharing). And after all, I came back with respect and admiration for these people.

1. They won't scold their male children. That's all there is to it.

2. They won't scold their grown-up children for breaking silly rules that only exist to provide an opportunity for scolding anyway. ("Ladies and gentlemen, we have not arrived at the gate. The seat belt sign is still illuminated. If you do not take your seats, the pilot will not move the plane. We will wait here until everyone is seated." You can bet it wasn't on Greek soil I heard that.)

3. They're not above bending the rules in the name of a happy ending. On my last day, I went with the bride and groom to the priest's house so they could sign the marriage license. In looking it over the groom discovered that his names were inverted and that the best man had signed in the wrong place. Not about to let this rain on anyone's parade, the priest ushered us into his garden, took out his pad of marriage licenses, and began filling out a new one. As the best man and witness had both already returned to the States, a fellow friend who was with us forged the best man's signature and I signed as the witness. (At least my witnessing wasn't totally bending the rules; I did actually witness the marriage. Through a window with bars on it, but I witnessed it nonetheless. And while I may not have understood a word of what was being said other than the bride's and groom's names, I got the gist, didn't I?)

4. They do things much later than we do.* This includes waking up, going to sleep, and eating. If we ate dinner at 11:00 p.m. it was a good night. This seems to come from being social, carefree, and fun-loving. Plus, if everybody else is out you don't want to miss an opportunity to socialize (see below).

5. They are endless gossips and are never without what to say. (I only experienced gossip of the good kind, but I've heard plenty about the other kind.)

6. They are warm and generous people to whom family means the world.

7. They have absolutely no idea what they're talking about when it comes to serious things like airport security, as proven by the airport cashier who wouldn't let me purchase the prepackaged candies for sale at Duty Free (where I had to show my boarding pass to shop) because honey was an ingredient in said candies and liquids above 100mL aren't allowed for transport to the U.S.

8. They're in no hurry.** And why should they be? They only laid the foundation for civilized society. They put in their time some 2500 years ago; they deserve to coast now, don't they?

9. Please don't expect them to be on time. This is not only ignorant but also a bit rude.

*Farmers and the elderly excluded
**Except on the road. Oh boy, look out.

Ah, Greece, thanks for the hospitality

Night 4 (Chios): Wait, There Was A Wedding, Wasn't There?

2008-08-04T22:18:00.002-04:00

Saturday evening in the town square the men congregated at long tables, perhaps drinking or perhaps telling stories about the groom, or perhaps both. The women gathered at the bride's house, ostensibly to help her get ready. But she was already ready when I arrived, and those who weren't eating were fawning over her. (It's always about eating, isn't it?) Watching the bride being bounced from one cousin/aunt/friend to the next was like watching someone being passed around a mosh pit with different but no less harrowing potential consequences, e.g. her dress being stepped on and dirtied or torn, tears ruining her makeup, someone's dress getting stuck to hers and causing a run (this actually happened), etc. The flower girls darted around the room, rambunctious little things who sat still long enough to have a photo snapped but not long enough to coordinate synchronized smiling. After about a half hour of this commotion, a collective excitement overtook us as someone shouted, "The men are here!" The congregation of men filled the narrow alley leading up to the bride's grandparents' house, fronted by a three-piece band and the eager groom, who was holding her bouquet to offer as a gift.

The serenade begins

I had been prepared by the bride for this but seeing it happen was really thrilling. All the women gathered on the two balconies -- except the bride of course; she had to remain inside playing hard to get -- and smiled and waved down as the band played and the groom stood in front smiling optimistically. (The point of the serenade is to convince the bride to come down to join him, but she doesn't show herself to the groom until she gets to the church. He stands at the entrance waiting for her, not sure until he sees her that she'll actually show up.) After about twenty minutes of serenading, the groom and his entourage "gave up" and started for the church, which was about a half mile away. Once they were gone, the bride and her family descended and the rest of us followed her.

The scene at the church was unlike anything I'd ever seen at an American wedding. The church itself was tiny, accommodating the the bride and groom, their families, and about 15 or 20 other people. As the entire village showed up, it meant most of us remained outside (a blessing anyway, as it was about 100 degrees inside) while the ceremony was broadcast to us. It was entirely in Greek and I had no idea what was happening, but that didn't stop me and a friend from perching on a ledge and staring in at the proceedings through a small window. Other guests milled about, socialized, snapped pictures, and explored the surrounding monastery. No one seemed to pay any mind to the wedding ceremony going on (I think they were anticipating their favors).

Waiting for the ceremony to finish

After the ceremony was the receiving line. (Entering the receiving line also entitled you to your wedding favor of Jordan Almonds and an almond-flavored cookie, so this was mayhem.) It seems a wedding in Greece is as much about getting face time with the bride and her family as it is about celebrating a union. The poor girl didn't get a break.

The tail end of the receiving line

Between the ceremony and the reception we had a couple of hours to kill and spent them in stressful search of gas to fill our empty tank. According to the conversion given to me by one of my friends, gas came out to be about $8.50 per gallon on Chios. (I would check this but I'm terrible at math.)

The reception was as I expected: delightful. An entire seaside village was shut down and tables were set up in front of the harbor. The bride herself arranged for the lamps and candles that served as simple decor, and we couldn't have asked for better weather. The first dance lasts forEVER, as anyone who wants to dance with the bride takes a turn doing so. A group of us took our turn together, and while I had no idea what I was doing attempting to follow the traditional dance of Chios, I sure enjoyed making a fool of myself trying. I loved hearing the Greek music and watching the traditional dances. After more wine came more dancing, and the 450-person-strong party was still going when we left a little before four.

A video of the first dance between the bride and groom:

After waffling on whether or not to go (no surprise here), I'm so happy I was there to wish my friends the best and have a blast doing so. There was every opportunity for cliche (I am very much avoiding the words "big" and "fat" here) but the whole experience felt so authentic and laid-back that I think even the bride was satisfied.

Day 4 (Chios): Another Non-Beach Activity

2008-08-04T20:59:00.000-04:00

After spending a few hours at Agia Dynami beach on Saturday, we drove through the medieval village of Mesta, which, according to my friend the local, is one of the most beautiful and charming villages on the island. All crowded stone houses and winding, narrow alleys, it was also a driving hazard. We took what was in retrospect a wrong turn and ended up stuck in an alley waiting for a tour group's leader to finish his spiel and herd the group on to the next attraction. Not surprisingly, our presence in no way motivated the tour guide to hurry his subjects along or even to encourage them to move to the side of the road so we could pass. Here, a photo of whatever he was talking about, taken after we had the road back:

Mesta alley

Day 3 (Chios): A Non-Beach Activity!

2008-08-04T20:32:00.000-04:00

Finding ourselves with some time to kill before extending our car rental, my friends and I did a little exploring. Armed with a map of the island marked up with "what to see" by our friend the bride, we decided to visit the Cave of Olympi, a 200,000 year-old natural wonder filled with stalactites resembling pipe organs and wedding cakes. As we descended into the cool, musty interior, our bi-lingual tour guide described (via a script from which he didn't dare stray) the climate and chronology of the cave. He ushered us along grumpily, almost as if he resented our presence. Humorless tour guides always amaze me. Why and how do they get into it? If you would rather play with rocks than talk to people, wouldn't you be a geologist and not a tour guide?

Cave Interior

It looks gooey but it's not.

Days 2, 3, 4, and 5 (Chios): A One-Track Mind

2008-08-01T02:42:00.000-04:00

Chios is a medium-large (as far as I can tell by Greek standards, anyway) island in the eastern Aegean near the coast of Turkey. The island's claim to fame is the mastic tree, a small shrub-like evergreen that when wounded produces a sap used as, among other things, varnish, chewing gum, and body lotion. (There are even mastic-flavored yogurt and soda.) While mastic trees grow in other locations, the one that produces the valuable sap grows only on the southern side of Chios.

The summertime population of Chios, according to a local source, is almost four times its winter population (can that really be or did I misunderstand?), so making a living there isn't easy if you don't farm. A lot of people live in Athens most of the year and spend their summers on Chios running a business catering to tourists. Happily, there are few tourists on Chios and most of them are Greek. (In fact most Americans haven't even heard of it.) Knowing this in advance, I worried Chios would be lacking in the natural beauty we imagine when we hear the words "Greek island." Happily again, I was wrong. For four days in a row my only concern was getting to the beach (and hoping my camera battery didn't fail me). Here I'll let the pictures do the talking.

Vroulidia beach

Vroulidia water

Vroulidia rocks

Vroulidia sunset

Mavra Volia part 1

Mavra Volia part 2

Mavra Volia cliff

Emporio harbor

Agia Dynami from above

Agia Dynami lagoon

Agia Dynami water

Only in trying to do a little retroactive Chios research did I discover that that on Chios there is a UNESCO World Heritage site -- an 11th century monastery called Nea Moni -- which apparently has some of the finest mosaics around. I LOVE mosaics, so to have missed seeing these makes me hurt inside a little. I would have skipped the beach one afternoon in a heartbeat to go to Nea Moni.

Day 1 (Athens): It's F*cking Hot As Balls Here

2008-07-31T23:03:00.000-04:00

I landed at Athens' Venizelos Airport* on the morning of July 23, far from rested but full of excitement (and caffeine!). This was to be my "alone" day -- my day of solitary adventure, which is the kind in which I suppose I take the most pride. Having perspired many a bullet over the potential closing of the Athens Metro beginning in July, I was relieved to find it running. Better than just running, it was actually efficient and extremely easy to navigate!

The Metro took me (with one transfer) to the very Acropolis of Art History lore. After exiting from the underground, I surveyed my surroundings to momentary panic: there was nothing but tourist shops in every direction. In desperation I looked up, and in doing so caught my breath. Rising above the schlock was the Acropolis, with the corner of the magnificent Parthenon peering out from over the top of the hill like a street cat, afraid to show too much of herself but unable to resist scoping the action.

In my wildest, nerdiest dreams, I could not have imagined being so impressed. To mount the Acropolis I followed the crowd, popping in at every incorrect entrance (why don't they just have an all-Acropolis ticket?) until I finally found the main one. Half a mile and twelve Euros later, I was on my way to the top.

The Parthenon Restoration Project, according to a sun-worn placard I read, began in 1983 (I was four). An article in February's Smithsonian magazine adds 8 years to the project's life and illuminates the obstacles and disctractions encountered by restoration team members (and the gaffes of turn of the 20th Century "restoration" attempts, which did far more harm than good). It also gives props to the ancients for genuinely baffling us moderns by the scope of their ability.

The iconic Parthenon view, iconic tourists included.

After not hearing "American" for a solid two hours, I had my first taste of home when a group of young Americans walked by me and one of the girls observed to her friend, "It's fucking hot as balls here." She was right, but I had long forgotten discomfort. Surveying the panorama of Athens, I tuned out Americans, Germans, and Italians alike (okay, maybe not the Italians) and inhaled the history and fresh air. I snapped photos of the Erechtheion and its famous caryatids, which I giddily recalled having studied in freshman Art History class. After gawking at the caryatids I noticed a hunk of stone on which was carved a blurb about the Erechtheion. To my great disappointment (although had I paid closer attention in class, this may not have come as such a surprise), I learned that the original caryatids (along with other archaeological finds from the Acropolis) had been removed and placed in the Acropolis Museum (ALSO under construction!); what I was marveling at were in fact replicas.

Imposters!

In order to get back to the airport in time for my flight to Chios, I had to cut short my Acropolis visit. In looking back, though, it's safe to say I got my money's worth. With more time I'd have entered the Agora and the various other temples that appeared to be on separate entrance tickets. The truth is that the signs are mostly inadequate and relatively scarce, which, given the Acropolis' status as THE Greek ruin to see, surprised me. On the one hand, it assumes you're well-prepared, with a guide, or have a guide book. On the other, it leaves so much of the history of the site open to interpretation. I get the impression that most people are disappointed, or at least underwhelmed, by the Acropolis. Putting aside the signs' deficiency, I can see why, given the ubiquitous "improvements." Scrutinizing the buildings' skeletons, I noticed just how many of these modern touches there were: a cement filling here, a metal rod there, a stray dog, a construction crane, and an umbrella salesman here, there, and there. . .

Maybe it was that I hadn't counted on making it, or maybe it was that I'm a bit of a history geek, but my Acropolis visit didn't disappoint or underwhelm. I value elation at learning and imagining, and I hope I never stop experiencing it.

From the airport I took the Metro line 3 (the blue line) to Syntagma Square and switched to line 2 (the red line) to Akropoli, just one more stop. Armed with my Wiki printout, I made it in 45 minutes with no wrong turns. On the way back to the airport I spent about 20 minutes browsing the Syntagma Square station, where excavation finds (and plenty of informational signs detailing them) are displayed. The coolest one was an aqueduct piece placed just right to show where Classical-era Athens street level was. I've chosen, however, to display the photo I took of a thousands-year-old skeleton as I'm probably the only lame-o who'd get excited about an aqueduct.

Back at the airport, I caught my flight to Chios. My friend (the bride) picked me up at the airport and I spent the next 8 hours pining for sleep until I was finally allowed it, while we ate, drank, drove around, and ate some more. (In Greece you can get chicken souvlaki AND french fries in the very same pita!) Chios photos in the next post.

*Anyone not sure how to maneuver the picking up of their bags from the baggage carousel should consult this very helpful guide (scroll down), chock full of advice on everything from claiming the best real estate for baggage-spotting to getting the most out of people-watching during this ordeal.

Distraction

2008-07-31T22:35:00.000-04:00

I just got back from a week-long trip to Greece, time I intended to use not only to attend my good friend's wedding but also to reflect on my desires and implement at least the workings of a plan I would stick to for Changing My Life. (It needs the capital letters, it does.)

Instead I went to the beach every day and forgot about my life in New York. This, of course, while not being productive, was therapeutic in its own way.

Travel is something in which, no matter how low I've felt, I have never lost interest. What better way to learn simultaneously about yourself (am I really that square?) and others (wow, the Greeks eat dinner really late)? There are few places I wouldn't want to experience at least briefly. Of course it was financially irresponsible, but it would have been a crime against self-actualization to pass up the opportunity to see a new place and share in a friend's joy.

Choices

2008-07-31T20:57:00.000-04:00

I'm absolutely terrified of choices. I don't have a problem with accountability, but when it comes to decision-making, I shut down. This deficiency has caused me to spend too long doing something for which I have no passion. My fear paved the way for complacency, and complacency became so pervasive and insistent that it seemed obvious and irreversible. Hearing myself talk about this (or worse yet, thinking about it) filled me with such self-loathing that I began to feel I deserved to be stuck. Then a recent series of good things that happened to other people jarred me. It dawned on me that my sense of self had become negligible and my desire to reclaim it was waning; my stasis was not security but avoidance. With all this in mind I have decided to make a decision, but now comes the hard part: deciding on the decision.

What should I do? Where should I live? Should I go back to school? If so, for what? There are too many CHOICES. This is the burden of the young and privileged (and indecisive): we have every opportunity in front of us, every advantage in our favor, and it's up to us to screw it up. I'm well-educated, I have transferable skills, I'm full of curiosity, I have a wonderful group of family and friends supporting me (believe me, I'm thankful), and I have the chance -- and means! -- to re-make my life. For most people this must be exhilarating. For me, it's terrifying.

Hi. My name is Brooke, and I was an Art History major.

My Big Indecision -- Here We Go

2008-07-31T20:42:00.000-04:00

It took me a long time to decide to start a blog. I considered blogging and concluded that it was a silly display of narcissim, an utterly self-indulgent outlet for the self-important or hopelessly witty. (Besides, did I really have anything to say?) But then I changed my mind (a frequent occurrence). An outlet is an outlet, and I figured that in order to attempt to conquer my indecision, an outlet was in order. So here I am: I'm indecisive, and I'm facing my biggest indecision ever. Indulge me as I indulge myself and attempt to figure it all out.