Saturday, December 30, 2006
Huh?
Please, someone tell me why Word doesn't register "damnit" as a proper expression. Damn squiggley red line.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Aha
I was reminded of this beauty of a poem by this guy, who mentioned it in a recent blog entry. Really very pretty, no? Takes me back to sophomore year, Randy Wallenberg's English class. It was assigned reading in our poetry unit, and I remember ol' Wally fawning all over it. Thirteen years later, I see whycome.
ANNABEL LEE
By Edgar Allan Poe
[1849]
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud by night
Chilling my Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me:--
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling
And killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we--
Of many far wiser than we--
And neither the angels in Heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea--
In her tomb by the side of the sea.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Cuhcakes
Oh! Caught in the crossfire:
Stop the war on cupcakes!
When George Mason elementary in Alexandria, Va., banned cupcakes earlier this year, many parents were taken aback, viewing it as one more case of bureaucracy gone wild. After all, the school cupcake has been an American institution for decades.
Aw
Nice post about Brooklyn on this blog I just discovered.
People from Brooklyn may have their own particular thing going on. They definitely speak differently than you do. They perhaps think differently than you do. They do, however, know one thing for sure; your family and your friends are what come first in this world. Sometimes, particularly in Brooklyn, your friends are your family. Everyone is your family. Brooklyn, more than many other places that I’ve been in this world, is a place where you look out for the guy next to you. Brooklyn teaches you to care. No matter where I go, for the rest of my life, I will carry Brooklyn with me. I will wear it as a badge of honor. I love being from Brooklyn. When I’m around, you’d better believe Brooklyn is in the house.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Frango sundaes
Here's a fun little bit o' the written. (Scroll down to the very last entry.) It ran in the zine, Inside Dirt, that Trail Runner produced and made available at a dirt-cheap subscription cost. Sadly, ID is on its way out after only a year in the works.
Also, do read the recent and lovely words of my dear bud Sarah McCormic--and watch for her in upcoming columns.
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/289342_sarahmccormic20.html
and
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/292669_sarah17.html
and
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/296348_sarahmc19.html
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Lately
Oh, golly. Let's observe what's going on around me at the moment. I'm filling in for our executive assistant while she's vacaying, which means I'm sitting on the happenin' side of the office--this versus my own side, which rivals my Piper Jaffray paperweight (how nice of them to think of me!) for the title of 'least energetic.' Anyway, the office is crawling w/ the kiddos today, due to the absence of both of our CEOs, the manager, and, oh yeah, of everyone else. Our legal counsel hauled his two very polite little mens in, and they're at present sprawled on the floor of CEO A's office watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (the original, no less). "Pure Imagination" is wafting through the air, which happens to be one of my fav tunes off the soundtrack. Anyone jealous? What, ya'll have today off? Oooh, you shut up now.
Maybe it's the hazelnut coffee I just polished off, but I feel strangely relaxed. Ah, if only every day would follow suit in the wake of this one.
Let's have a lookie: 
Because doesn't it always end this way?
Having had plenty of practice w/ Mommy's heels, she slipped into her new princess shoes all by herself. Clearly, she's got a bit of growing to do.
Getting help w/ her new princess gown.
Surrounded by loot. Our contribution: the Uglydoll--enjoyed by kiddos and adults alike. (Er, I speak for two of the latter, anyway.)
A baby for Baby! This one came equipped w/ binky, bottle, blanket, and several other accessories. Here's Syd cradling and feeding her wee dolly. Clearly, she's a natural.
More about Syd: One of the sweetest things I heard/saw her do was mimic animal sounds. All you've gotta do is say "lion" or "cat" or "dog" or "snake" or "elephant" or, and this is my personal favorite, "monkey." Her response--and it's durn near immediate--is to go "rarrr!" or "meeow" or "woof!" or "hsss" or, uh, how to spell an elephant's trumpeting? But yeah, so monkey: I believe it's along the lines of "ooh ooh ooh ooh." Wait, that's not it. Let's just say she does this heaps better than anyone I've ever heard attempt it. Maybe better, even, than, than, than... I'll just say it: than Petey. [Don't hate me, son!] Let's hope he steers clear of the blog this week. 
Goodies found at the annual Johnson Family Xmas Eve Social. Made yearly w/o fail by my cousin Shari, these wee shortbread cookies (need to ween myself off 'wee'--still the Belfast in me) are just how I'd choose to take my veggies, were the choice mine to make. And heck, they're peas! Peas!
What a pose, eh? Meet Cousin Patrick.
The notorious gift exchange. In past years it's meant all sorts of hurt feelings and wounded pride, but not so much these last few seasons. Were it last December I'd be inclinded to credit Cousin Casey's formally drafted 'rules,' but as the document never surfaced this go-'round, I'm left guessing. Pea and I came away w/ a fine set of knives, Trivial Pursuit Biographies, and a box of grahams--a sliver suggestive of a re-gift, but hey, at least we didn't walk w/ The Clapper. 
The Eldes. At Dad's apartment, mid-afternoon Xmas Eve.
Belongs w/ the other gift exchange exhibit. It's ol' Uncle Deaner, hammin' it up for the camera as he tears into his selection.
Family portrait. Enough said.
I'm sorta not in cupcake review mode, so I'll cut to the chase: This one, another from Crumbs, tasted like a vanilla Hostess, w/ frosting light and fluffy. The cake part was of course better, and the mini M&Ms a nice touch, and I'm sure I'll partake again in the near future. Say, tonight.
Meet Holborn, newest addition to the fam. From where the name, you ask? Aw, I had to bring a little something back w/ me... So yeah, he's a dinosaur, plucked, quite naturally, from the Natural History Museum. As for family relations, the others seem tolerant, even accepting, although I have heard them going back and forth about how some of Holby's ideas seem a little outdated--even prehistoric. (Uh-huh!)
Sad little tree, *festooned* w/ a few lights and a lone ornament.
One neglected advent calendar. That's right--suddenly it was the 19th and windows 11 through 18 were still shuttered! Horrible! And the chocolate's even the good kind.
I did these. And these alone.
Ours, ours, ours! Dig that chandelier?
Closer.
Freebie chair. So pretty!
Freebie art. Such talent!
Coolest TV stands ever. We've got four; eBay was kind. Also, note the handsome carpet. It's flecked w/ black, gray, blue, white, and cream. 
Get a load of that black flooring. Tiles, baby--installed by not me, but that one guy.
That's a Georges Braque print, picked up, quality frame and all, for 25 bones. While I like it, we'll eventually replace it w/ a larger, more colorful piece of art. 
At long last, a kitchen that doesn't make me cry. :)
I'll stop bragging now.
Brilliant
Ouch!
Anyway, for those wondering whatever happened w/ that one trip I took, here it is. After uploading my million pictures, I decided best to just keep everything in one place, so I added captions where I felt moved to do so. Thing is, while I've been working on it on and off for a week now, it's not done. I figure I've got a couple of hours left, as a good chunk of Belfast is yet uncaptioned.
Till then.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Downer
As a kid, I was a big fan of the paper chain advent calendar. Twenty-five alternating red and green strips linked by staples or Scotch tape: the thing couldn’t get smaller fast enough. I’d tear off days 1, 2, 3, and 10, impatient and convinced that the grand 2-5 would never arrive
Twenty years and a good deal of orthodontia later, I can’t be bothered with countdowns. This year if I had a paper chain, it would have started not with twenty-five links, but four, reason being that I’m just now taking a moment to consider the fast approaching holiday. Not so anticipatory.
When it comes to commercially exploited holidays, I’ve always been the biggest sucker I know, and I’ve been perfectly okay with this. But this year’s just been too busy, and I’ve been too distracted by life to devote a lunchbreak or two to surveying the season’s department store window displays, to sit down to a solid evening’s worth of my favorite Claymation classics (although I managed to carve out some time for Garfield, Charlie Brown, Smurfs, and Flinstones), to go on a cookie baking rampage (a single batch of the best ever, while success was met, does not a rampage make) or a Christmas concert, to decorate like mad (my dinky Home Depot tree, now near-dead, hardly qualifies), wrap gifts w/ my usual sense of deliberation... It just didn't happen.
It's pretty much okay w/ me, though. I mean, had I really wanted to make this stuff work, I could/would have. Just wasn't feeling it this year. And anyway, what really matters is that I get to be w/ my nearest & dearest this w/e. Who knows--maybe others' holiday cheer'll rub off on me a little.
Speaking of 'what really matters' and perspective and all that, I'll break the shitty news: Turns out I won't be running in that January marathon after all. Days after having come off one of my most memorable running weeks ever, a stretch punctuated by a whirlwind 12-miler that took me through London's Hyde Park, Kensington, Notting Hill, Paddington, and Mayfair neighborhoods, I was forced to stop in my tracks--and at this point there's no telling how long I'll remain stopped.
It was last Saturday that the shit went down. I'd just started in on a relaxed 10-miler when I felt a nervy pain in my groin. Thinking it was just a fluke--a chance cramp that'd soon pass, I figured I'd run through it. I continued on w/o any change in intensity until mile six or so, when the pain began progressively worsening to the point where I had to slow to a walk/stop. It was a bit freaky, given the fact that a) I was relatively unaccustomed to running-provoked hurts, and b) the pain didn't strike me as muscle-y, which seemed odd.
So it kept up in the hours that followed, and I eventually decided on a trip to the E.R. However, once reaching the hospital--and Pea--and realizing that it'd be a good four hours before I was seen by a doc, a doc who was unlikely to have much to offer me beyond 'take some Midol and see if it passes,' I changed my mind. Anyway, I really did think it was a flukey thing that would soon be on its way out.
Sadly--so sadly--not the case. It's now Thursday and the pain, while it ebbs and flows, is basically as pronounced as it was five days ago. As it can be a wee tricky to move between sitting and standing and vice-versa w/o grimacing, running is (far, so far) out of the question. I actually gave it the ol' college try two days ago, but I made it all of a mile before realizing the stupidity in continuing.
I'm just very sad about the whole deal. I was (and am, for about another week) at the height of my form, physically and mentally primed for the task. I haven't been this well-trained since mid-2003 w/ the Portland Marathon on the horizon. I really wanted this one, you know? I really wanted to re-qualify for Boston, really wanted the chance to redeem my poor 2004 showing there--and w/ January's race, I would have stood a damn good chance.
Of course, I could wake up tomorrow feeling good as new. Unlikely, but you never know. Were this to happen, I'd totally go through w/ the race, optimistic that a week of training lost this late in the game wouldn't be too much of a detriment. But what if it were to happen middle of next week? W/ that many lost days and a fast finish time unlikely, would I still want to bother? May sound defeatist, but considering how firm was my goal this time around, I don't know--I might not. I'd probably want to save the vacation days to put toward an out-of-state race later in the year, a race for which I'd be better prepared.
Speaking of logistics, there's no chance of recovering my registration fee--plus, as I went w/ Priceline for my flight, I doubt I can recover that cost, either. But I need to look into it.
About the nature of the pain itself, pardon if this is too much info, but here it is anyway: Anything gynecological has been ruled out, so that's obvs good news. The endless Web research I've conducted over the course of the week leads me to think that maybe, although god I hope this isn't it, a pelvic stress fracture could be to blame. Stress fractures aren't uncommon in distance runners, although only 1-2 percent of these occur in the pelvic region. I plan to get the necessary diagnostic tests in the next few days here.
But back to perspective/'what really matters': It's all good. Whatever this is, it'll heal, and I'll run again. I'm lucky that it's just now, after a decade of pretty solid running, that I'm confronting my first real injury. And again [repeat to self], so long as I listen to and nurture my body through this period, I will recover. Just. Need. Patience.
What else? There's the fact that this training hasn't been for naught [repeat to self many, many times]. My Sunday long runs were some of the best of my running career--I got to explore Bay Ridge several times over, Coney and Brighton Beach and beyond; there were all the bridge runs, including, at long last, the GW, which I always meant to blog about but just never got around to it; and of course, there was London. Awesome.
Finally, this break has reminded (shown?) me that my running is a really important part of who I am. Through it, I make discoveries: about myself and about the world outside of me. (How's that for cheesy?) I wouldn't have it any other way.
But for all the feel-good gushy stuff, I’m still feeling kinda sorry for myself, and life still feels kinda sucky.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
From lovely friend Jenn:
Hey folks--
As most of you know, my sister Becky started her own documentary film business. She will offer short commemorative films to play at weddings, big birthdays, or, for non profits and business, short films that showcase an issue, cause, or event. Her web page has officially gone live so check it out [www.blinklifeonfilm.com], and if you should need her services, well... :-)
--jenn
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
HP for a better America
Dear Heinz,
Just because our politics suck doesn't mean our palates are any less refined. Please, go global w/ it. (So tasty!) Lord knows we deserve a break.
Warm regards,
Kristen
[Dear Lovely Readers: Full trip report to follow.]
Friday, December 01, 2006
I'm such a whiner (scroll down a ways)
1) I walked out the door this morning wearing jeans and a tank top. I was not cold.
2) The other day Pea said, "I'm gonna miss New York when we eventually move back." Tilting my head, I thought about it for a moment, then said, "You know, me too." Call it an epiphany, call it something lesser, but it felt significant. Why? Because I realized that, a year and eight months after stepping off the plane at JFK, New York feels like home. Not in the same way that Seattle/NW feels like home, but still. I feel pride in being a New Yorker, and I realize there's a place for me here.
In recent months, Pea & I have talked about how (presumably) strange it'll be to wander the streets of Seattle once again. Will I get bored? Take up nosepicking? Will I withdraw? Get depressed? Feel antsy? And what about my friends: will they still be around? Will the nature of my friendships change/have changed? And where will I work? Will I have made it, or halfway made it, as a freelance writer by then? No way to tell.
3) Eee, I'm really stressing today. There's just so much to take care of before Monday's departure for Ireland. Plus, I have actual work-work (believe that?) to catch up/get ahead on, which isn't making things any easier. PLUS, I need to leave a smidge early today, for as this a.m.'s run didn't happen, a round on the treadmill is in order (yuck), which needs to occur in time for me to get home and whip up some artichoke dip/shrimp cocktail--our contribution to tonight's progressive snacktasticness (three apartments, all conveniently located in the South Slope/Windsor Terrace area). Then tomorrow there's an a.m. run, brunch w/ Uncle Bob that promises to be the only relaxing part of the day, an insane amount of laundry, a trip itinerary that desperately needs drafting, an evening lit review reading that I'll so end up skipping out on. Sunday looks better, w/ a 20-miler and QT time w/ Pea the only items on the agenda, the latter heaps more enticing than the former. (I'm gonna miss the dearie! Longest time we've been apart since the Norway trip that I'm convinced happened in the life just prior to this one.)
Whining aside, I'm getting excited for my trip. Can't wait to get my crack on w/ ol' Tiffers.
Har
BY GREG SANTOS
- - - -
1. Eudoxia
2. Isidora
3. Forsythia
4. Lanien
5. Acacia
6. Beersheba
7. Valdrada
8. Singor
9. Phyllis
10. Keveen
11. Quianna
12. Fedora
13. Taheesha
14. Chloe
15. Nuesha
16. Baylyn
17. Isaura
18. Zaira
19. Graceanne
20. Clarice
Invisible cities: 1, 2, 6, 7, 9, 12, 14, 17, 18, 20
Unique baby names: 3, 4, 5, 8, 10, 11, 13, 15, 16, 19