Blogs, Podcasts, Books and The Fall (but not in that order)

Saturday August 13, 2011

Yesterday morning I went running with Tricia and fell and ripped my pants. It didn’t hurt and I only got a little scrape and a bruise (thank goodness – all my bruises from mt. biking have faded). The painful part was that there was this guy there and the intersection where I ate it and he saw the whole thing. We ran down to the intersection, I wiped out, got up, turned around and we ran away again, me with a big hole ripped in the knee of my pants.

I tell this to Ji last night and we laugh a little. We really laugh when I confess tha they are not actually pants that I wear to run in, but long underwear. And then we keep laughing when I explain how the elastic waist is so shot I have to bunch it up and pint it with a safety pin so the pants don’t fall down, especially when I’m running downhill. Thank goodness I’ve got my bright purple, super-fly, 50% off Pumas to salvage my imagine a little. I’m not a total disaster.

When Ji finally settles down he asks, “Would you go running dressed like that in NYC?” This question never would have occurred to me. Of course I would run in that outfit in NYC! Because:

1. It can get cold in NY and long underwear, even ripped long underwear, will help me stay warm.

2. I’ve never understood why people spend a lot of money for fancy new workout clothes. I always wear my older, most beat up clothing to work out in. The clothes are going to ust get seaty and muddy (and ripped) anyway. Expensive workout clothes = poor financial planning.

3. No matter how hard I try or how much money I make I will never be NYC fashinable. I just can’t pull it off and I’ve given up trying. Hm – I reazlie not that I never have actually given a damn.

So, for Ji-Soo and the rest of you who might ask, yes I would go running in the fashion capital of the world in baggy, ripped long underwear. And I wouldn’t think twice about it.
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I just finished reading Annie on My Mind by Nancy Garden. It was published in 1982 and was supposedly the first gay/lesbian teen novel, which is pretty cool, but I liked it for a different reason. I liked it because it really captured how falling in love in NYC can turn the dirty, gritty, monotonous city into a beautiful, endless playground. I was so down on NYC and then one day (really, it happened that quickly) everything changed.

I left anyway.
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I just listed to and episode of The Changing World podcast: “The Kill Factor”. Pretty powerful. My thoughts:

1. So upfront, so shocking, so necessary.

2. Kudos to those who can talk to openly and honestly about their experience. I can’t imagine the courage that takes.

3. I wish they’d included women. Do women go to the front line? Do they kill?

4. Being here in Monteverde has made me realize that I’m not a pacifist, but I still don’t like war.

5. Powerful idea #1: The safety switch to keep soldiers from killing gets turned off so they can kill but how can we put it back before we send them home?

6. Powerful idea #2: We ask soldiers to do so much but then don’t support them when the come home.

7. Powerful idea #3: Hearing one of the soldiers talking about going from war zone to war zone. What are we doing in this world?

8. The word WAR – seems perfect for what it is.
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I’ve been reading some new blogs lately (I never thought I’d say that):

• Neil and wife Andrea, who just moved to Hilo, Hawaii: http://haoleherald.tumblr.com/

• Ji’s sister Eunnie and The Husband, who just moved to Shenzen, China: consumateconsumer.com

• Amanda and her husband, who live in Cambodia and just had a baby. We were friends in middle school and have not spoken since, but its an interesting blog: http://amandaniel.blogspot.com/

My Life: Summer 2011 - Last Bit

So, I got to go to Alaska for a wedding and had an amazing time and love loved it but then I left in camera in NYC and came back to Costa Rica and I have nothing to show for it. But, I will leave you with this link where my PIC has written wonderfully about it. He took most of the pictures anyway: http://have-not.blogspot.com/

And also, some pictures of the orange tree, happy with new growth in it's Brooklyn greenhouse. You can see other posts of my beloved orange tree at the link above also. This silly tree has brought me hours and hours of happiness. Oh, and it's not really an orange tree.


Background: Apt. 15C


Background: Williamsburg, Brooklyn.



Background: Joy, joy, joy.

My Life: Summer 2011 - Part II

Oops - started this a month ago and never finished. Here it is:


I went upstate for a wedding. My friend's family rented a place on the south western shore of Lake Canandaigua. This is the view from the back porch, after a quick summer rain:

I love this part of the world with all of my heart and soul.



Back in NYC at Bryant Park. I also love this place, but not with all of my heart and soul.


The sun setting behind the Williamsburg Bridge. This picture does not do the scene justice. Whoever says NYC is not a beautiful place is just wrong.


Collingswood, NJ with Dad for the 4th of July. This poster claims to combine the two best things about Philly into one, but I am doubtful. Sometimes two good things should just stay two good things and not try to become one great thing.

My Life: Summer 2011

Saturday Ji and I went on a 2+ hour mt. biking adventure in Ringwood Park in New Jersey. It was my first time exercising in a month and my first time on a bike in over ten months. I was tired and out of shape, but had a great time. Ji-Soo fell and I got to wash the blood off with my water bottle. I did not fall because I have not yet bought my summer-time health insurance.

We went directly from mt. biking to Ji-Soo's aunt's house to shower and eat a pretty respectable amount of food: ribs, fish, bean sprouts, oyster kim chi, fruit, ice cream. I am grateful that Ji-Soo's family seems to have no problem with me laying on the floor and moaning as I recover from my bike ride and giant meal.

Sunday Ji-Soo and I went on another bike ride around the city (if it means anything to you: from Williamsburg, Brooklyn up Kent Ave to Vernon Blvd. into Astoria, Queens, across the Triboro bridge and back again). After our bike ride we did that same exact as the day prior (what else does one do after a long bike ride?): shower and eat Korean food, leftovers sent with us from the previous night.

Life
is
Good

That evening we watched "Street Fight", a documentary about Cory Booker's first run for mayor of Newark, NJ in 2002. Then we read as much as we could about him online, Ji-Soo focusing on his remarkable college football career and myself on his educational reforms and desire to live in the poorest, most violent parts of Newark. I highly recommend checking the man out.

This morning, Monday, I spent some time gorging myself on U.S. educational reform blogs, articles and videos. I watched "The Lottery" and it made me cry, also highly recommended. When I looked up it was almost 2 p.m. and I had to get out of the house. I walked across the Williamsburg bridge and into Chinatown and then took the subway back to Brooklyn. Here are some photos from my trek:

This is along the first stretch of the bridge. This is the bike route that I took because the first half of the pedestrian walkway is closed for repairs. I love the bridges of NYC. Love, love them. I don't know anything about architecture or art, but I do know that the lines of these bridges are beautiful. The other day I was talking about how beautiful the Queensboro bridge is and Ji said, "I'm not sure anyone else would use that word to describe that bridge." Yes, it looks industrial and a little rusty, but fantastically so.


I took this picture to show the road sign in the upper left corner. Also to show how highly used the biking and walking paths in NYC are. One day I would like to sit next to one of these bike paths and count the number of people that use them in one day. Today I also wanted to take portrait photos of the people who cross the bridge on bike. I wished Laura.d.n.c was there to launch the project with me because she is good at talking to people she doesn't know, and asking to take their pictures.


The Williamsburg Bridge is covered with graffiti, and I love it. At first I think this makes me gritty and down, but then I realize that it is easy to like colorful graffiti in a safe, hip, neighborhood.


Graffiti on a rooftop seen from the bridge.


This picture came out blurry. It is hard to see the screen of my digital camera in bright sunlight. Regardless, you can still see the teeth-tower, which I really like a lot.


More lines. More colors.


Halfway across the bridge there is a connecting point between the bike path on the north side of the bridge and the walkway on the south side. This section of the walkway was open. As I crossed a train passed under me. This is another reason that I love the Williamsburg Bridge: it has trucks, cars, pedestrians, bicyclists and subways. It is like a small city unto itself.


The train passed and I was left with more lines.


More graffiti. More color.


More trains. More lines.


The Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges to the south. To the north you can see the Queensboro bridge, Chrysler building and Empire State building. I took a picture of them, but it came out blurry.


This is maybe the most beautiful part of the bridge. This is where the bike path and walkway converge, if you are Manhattan-bound, or separate, if you are Brooklyn-bound.


It says:
CITY OF NEW YORK
WILLIAMSBURG BRIDGE
DEPARTMENT OF BRIDGES

The silver paints shines in the sun.


At this point in the bridge there is also a seemingly random art installation: the colored tiles on the cross beams. I don't know who did them or what they are supposed to mean but they decrease in number, heading towards Manhattan, until there are none, and I like them.


An unusually detailed spray paint stencil.


I have no idea what it is, but it grabbed my attention. It can't actually be a stencil. I don't know how they did it.


I tried to walk past this one, but it wouldn't let me. You could make a movie about this.

And then I was in Chinatown and buying tea and too distracted and thirsty to take anymore pictures. But here are some from last week:


Salad in bowl from Mom: lettuce, spinach, bean sprouts, walnuts, parsley, green olives, zucchini, Basic Vinaigrette from the How to Cook Everything cookbook.


Never-fail no-knead bread.


The Glove, a gift that Ji's mom brought me from Korea when she came to Costa Rica. It's made with a special scrubby yarn and can be used in the kitchen or the shower. I chose the shower and have been very happy ever since. I've never felt so clean!


Ji-Soo makes noodle soup. Same wonderful bowl from same wonderful Mom.

Small Joys

This past April when I was in the states for a week I took a day trip to Philly to see my family. I wanted to get a Philly treat for Ji, so Dad took me to Di Bruno Brothers. Dad was very excited about the balsalmic vinegar, and when I was too cheap to buy it for Ji-Soo, he did. I lovingly cradled the balsamic vinegar in my lap, next to the not-as-pricey sausage I bought, all the way back to Brooklyn.

Ji-Soo and I made a loaf of no-knead bread with which to try the vinegar, and it was delicious. What more could a girl ask for?

Food and Bug Fotos

Ji's Mom and Aunt found this almost-dead critter in the bathroom during their visit. I took it out to the porch to take pictures while his family made jokes about how we were starting out own bug exhibition and could charge people money to come see it. After pictures the beetle went next to the beautiful dead moth we'd found that morning during breakfast. As evidenced by this episode, it was a fantastic visit. I'd never seen a beetle with bumps on its back like that.


Harmless beetle, huge claws. Funny pads on feet. The surface the beetle is resting on is Ji's shorts because he's ok with me putting almost-dead bugs on his leg to take pictures.


And then Ji's family left and I made pejivalle. It's palm fruit, and pretty fantastic. Step 1: boil.


Step 2: Peel. You'll noticed that I skipped the very important step of "let cool". Ouch.


Step 3: split in half.


Step 4: Fill with natilla, Costa Rican sour cream.


Step 5: eat/enjoy

Step 6: store any leftovers


Not a step, just organic trash, which is more times than not just as beautiful as the edible part.


Pejivalle project over, move onto to boiling eggs.

Back in NYC, time for an update

From a while ago:

Bits of White Tiger by Aravind Adiga that I loved:

(about family members) "At night they slept together, their legs falling one over the other, like one creature, a millipede."

"My father's spine was a knotted rope, that kind that women use in villages to pull water from wells...The story of a poor man's life is written on his body, in a sharp pen."

From June 8, 2011

In the a.m.: "This morning I woke to the sound of howler monkeys calling and birds hopping on my corrugated roof."

and then in the evening:
"What a funny day. Tonight I worked until 7 p.m. Walking home the fog was dense and still. My flashlight at full power could only show me the rocks right in front of my feet. The light extended from my hand in a solid cone. There were single, split second flashes of lighting, so fast I wasn't sure they had even happened.

And then to add to the already beautiful, spooky-but-not-scary atmosphere: as I approached the gate to my house to lean over and unlatch it from the other side I froze and then jumped back. There was a thin brown snake on the waist-high gate, about 2 1/2 feet long. Half of its body was wrapped through and resting on top of the gate, the other half poised, waiting in the air above the gate. If I had actually reached over the gate to unlatch it I could have given the snake a little kiss on the top of its i-think-its-not-triangle-shaped head.

I am not afraid of snakes. I think they are beautiful and interesting. Startled by them yes, scared no. Until I moved to Costa Rica and learned that there are 27 speices of venomous snakes in this small country. Did you know that Costa Rica is one of the world's top (or maybe the actual top) exporters of snake venom antidote? They have enough deadly snake venom to make lots of snake anti-venom and ship it all over the world.

Yes, I got myself educated on venomous snakes. I went to the serpentario three times and learned the difference between a triangle head and a round head, cat pupil and round pupil. I know about that nostril looking pit that venomous snakes have in their faces and it was all very interesting.But it only gets you so far when it's dark and foggy and there is a snake in your face. There was nothing about this snake that told me it was venomous but I still didn't want to kiss it.

I found the longest stick I could (a good 8 inches - great job, Ginna) and gently poked the snake with it, hoping that this would be enough to convince it to move elsewhere. No such luck. After a few more pokes at its thin, long body I remembered that young snakes can be more deadly that adult snakes because they will dump all of their venom into you at once, having not yet learned how to control their bite. This was a long but young looking snake that was begining to zigzag the top half of its body, lower half anchored firmly to the gate. David Attenborough has taught me that this is ideal striking stance. No way I could move faster than this little guy.

Finally, the thin brown snake slowly moved into the bush next to my front gate. I gingerly opened the gate and let myself in, scrutinizing every stick I could see. I turned to look at the brown snake in the green bush but could not find it. Sneaky little bugger.