I love my neighborhood. While baking a carrot cake tonight, I realized I was woefully out of confectioner's sugar which is integral to the cream cheese frosting making process. Luckily, a block from my house is the Willard Street Market. You all know these corner markets. They're gas station convenience stores without the gas. They all have approximately three isles of miscellaneous goods and a wall of refrigerated beer and overpriced milk and OJ. This is just such a market. And I love it.
Why, you ask, would a dumpy corner market have my undying affection? It's a true statement that it's ugly. It has the full retinue of 70's faux wood paneling, fake IDs stuffed under the glass counter, 40 year old linoleum tiled floors, yellow tinged overhead lighting, and at least a $1.50 added to every item's price. In fact I was horrified the first time I walked through the aging glass doors. But I've grown to adore this bodega. Not only is it extremely convenient when I haven't had anything beyond filtered water in my apartment for days and I passed hungry a week ago, but it has gems hidden its run down isles. Search hard enough and you find Annie's organic mac and cheese. And what's that in the cooler? Oh yes, it's Tropicana. No concentrate here.
But the true wonder of the Willard Street market is its chief night cashier. I have no idea what her name is, but she saw 60 years old a long time ago and judging from my knowledge of the refugee population and her accent, she's Bosnian. She knows precisely three things that I've experienced: "hello", "goodbye" and how to count American money. She watches exclusively foreign soap operas on the discreetly placed tv behind the counter. She doesn't greet you when you walk in, but she sure as heck knows exactly where you are in her store. She doesn't call me "hon", she doesn't ask me how my day was, she doesn't smile. She does her job with the bare minimum contact required and I find that very refreshing in this overly pleasant town. Sometimes you just want to buy a pound of sugar without discussing your life story. Sometimes you just want that silent acknowledgment that this is just a business transaction and I'm coming back no matter what the customer service is like. And she obliges. And I love it, even if I had to pay an extra $1.50 to get it.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
While One Rises, Another Falls
I'm sad to report that Michael Crichton lost his long running battle with cancer yesterday. The Andromeda Strain was a formative part of my childhood, as was Jurassic Park, and I can thank both for my love of good sci fi and my unending interest in microbiology.
Insert Celebratory Title Here
While I'm sure there's nothing unique I can say about this historic and reaffirming landslide election, I feel I should say something. And that something is that for the first time in a long time, I'm proud of this country. I'm proud that so many disenfranchised people voted for the first time. I'm proud that all the kids I work with who are of very diverse backgrounds feel they have a future. I'm proud that my state was the first to go for Obama. I'm proud that former VT governor Howard Dean helped create the 50 state strategy. I'm proud that across the country, people put aside prejudice and instead chose hope. I'm proud that my niece will grow up in a world where anyone can be president. And I'll be even more proud when it's a woman standing in that oval office, which I never thought I'd see in my life time and now believe there's a good sporting chance of it.
Well done.
Well done.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Why I love our Country
In anticipation of tomorrow's historic election, I thought I'd share this tidbit from today's Burlington Free Press:
Now, I'm not sure I really need to get into the logistics of him having sex with a 14 year old when he was 26, or his three DUI convictions, or the fact that he lit himself on fire in a suicide attempt. All I can say is that I live in a state where this guy gets to run for state senate after getting 100 signatures on a petition. On one hand it terrifies me since more than one person, I'm sure, has voted for people they didn't know anything about, and on the other hand it reassures me that everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) has access to the government in Vermont.
Small state, big problems. God I hope people do a little research before going to the polls. And you are going to the polls tomorrow right? Right? Good. Do your part. Keep this guy out of office.
"BURLINGTON -- Larkin Forney's been a lot of things in his life -- sex offender, drunken driver, head injury victim, marijuana legalization advocate, prisoner.
This year, he has a new label: candidate for state Senate."Now, I'm not sure I really need to get into the logistics of him having sex with a 14 year old when he was 26, or his three DUI convictions, or the fact that he lit himself on fire in a suicide attempt. All I can say is that I live in a state where this guy gets to run for state senate after getting 100 signatures on a petition. On one hand it terrifies me since more than one person, I'm sure, has voted for people they didn't know anything about, and on the other hand it reassures me that everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) has access to the government in Vermont.
Small state, big problems. God I hope people do a little research before going to the polls. And you are going to the polls tomorrow right? Right? Good. Do your part. Keep this guy out of office.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Ushering in my third decade
Last week I turned 30. Having psyched myself up for the occasion by telling everyone that I was "turning 30" for the last six months, it wasn't nearly as traumatic as it could have been.
To celebrate, I took my mom, Josh and a group of friends out to my favorite restaurant and then hit the town for drinks.
As you can see, Mrs. Potato Head was the mascot of the evening. Mom hit the nail on the head with this present.
I was thrilled to find out on Saturday morning that I was feeling remarkably well for the morning after a night filled with lychee martinis, mixed drinks that came with gummi worm accessories, and a pitcher of Shed. So what did I do? I grabbed Josh and went to Montreal.
I'm lucky to live approximately a half hour from the Canadian border.
And since it's fall and I live in a foliage wonderland, the drive north was really, really pretty.
Now, I love Montreal. It's heaven. For someone who's always wanted to see Paris but doesn't speak a word of French and is always on the down side of broke, Quebec is paradise. First of all, their road signs are festive and weird:
And it continues into the city:
But the city is lovely and the views down every street are incredible:
Since by this point the cold I'd been fighting off for 2 weeks finally hit me, we took it easy and indulged in my favorite pass time: strolling through the art museum. And Montreal has a great one - the Musee des beaux arts. We took in an amazing exhibit on Andy Warhol and just breathed in the ambiance of modern design. Even the tables at the museum are cool:
It was such fun. Equal parts inspiring and entertaining. And the guard yelled at me in French, which totally made me feel like I passed for a local. Heck, we even have favorite restaurants in town! Now that makes me feel like home. My personal favorite moment was sitting in Allo Indie, this fantastic little Indian joint on Rue Crescent, listening to the manager speak English to us, French to the table next to us, an Indian dialect to his staff, and German to two women at a front table since, if I trust my rusty German, he lived in Munich in the 80's. And did I mention we were all entertained by an incomprehensible Bollywood movie that played over and over again on three TV sets? You can't replicate ambiance like that if you tried.
But all good things must come to an end and, after a teensy bit of shopping (clothes for me, shoes for Josh) on Sunday, we headed home. The drive back was equally as lovely as the drive in:
I couldn't have asked for a better birthday weekend. My eternal thanks to all who helped make it possible, including the Canadian government for again letting Josh and I into their fair country without too much hassle and to the US Border Patrol who let us back out with a smile and a welcome home.
To celebrate, I took my mom, Josh and a group of friends out to my favorite restaurant and then hit the town for drinks.
As you can see, Mrs. Potato Head was the mascot of the evening. Mom hit the nail on the head with this present.
I was thrilled to find out on Saturday morning that I was feeling remarkably well for the morning after a night filled with lychee martinis, mixed drinks that came with gummi worm accessories, and a pitcher of Shed. So what did I do? I grabbed Josh and went to Montreal.
I'm lucky to live approximately a half hour from the Canadian border.
And since it's fall and I live in a foliage wonderland, the drive north was really, really pretty.
Now, I love Montreal. It's heaven. For someone who's always wanted to see Paris but doesn't speak a word of French and is always on the down side of broke, Quebec is paradise. First of all, their road signs are festive and weird:
And it continues into the city:
But the city is lovely and the views down every street are incredible:
Since by this point the cold I'd been fighting off for 2 weeks finally hit me, we took it easy and indulged in my favorite pass time: strolling through the art museum. And Montreal has a great one - the Musee des beaux arts. We took in an amazing exhibit on Andy Warhol and just breathed in the ambiance of modern design. Even the tables at the museum are cool:
It was such fun. Equal parts inspiring and entertaining. And the guard yelled at me in French, which totally made me feel like I passed for a local. Heck, we even have favorite restaurants in town! Now that makes me feel like home. My personal favorite moment was sitting in Allo Indie, this fantastic little Indian joint on Rue Crescent, listening to the manager speak English to us, French to the table next to us, an Indian dialect to his staff, and German to two women at a front table since, if I trust my rusty German, he lived in Munich in the 80's. And did I mention we were all entertained by an incomprehensible Bollywood movie that played over and over again on three TV sets? You can't replicate ambiance like that if you tried.
But all good things must come to an end and, after a teensy bit of shopping (clothes for me, shoes for Josh) on Sunday, we headed home. The drive back was equally as lovely as the drive in:
I couldn't have asked for a better birthday weekend. My eternal thanks to all who helped make it possible, including the Canadian government for again letting Josh and I into their fair country without too much hassle and to the US Border Patrol who let us back out with a smile and a welcome home.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Old Bentley Would be Thrilled
It's snowing outside! Welcome to Vermont, friends, where the first snow of the year typically takes place in October. Luckily the flakes are the wet and mushy kind so there's nothing to shovel. Yet. I of course decided to ignore the possibility that 6 months of winter are beginning and wore extremely impractical high heels and no gloves to work. Lots of fun when I'm doped up on 3 kinds of cold medicine, I assure you. But anyway, it's snowing, I'm cold, I have a cold, and I can't sleep. Let winter commence.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Welcome to the Planet
I'm an aunt and two of my very favorite people in this world are brand spanking new parents of a gorgeous baby girl! A big welcome to Madeleine Grace. This family has been eagerly awaiting you, kiddo, and we're thrilled you've decided to join us.
Friday, October 17, 2008
The planets have aligned
Here's my horoscope:
Today's birthday (Oct. 17): You have many responsibilities, though there is an overriding sense of being carefree this year. You're laughing and having a good time with this life you've built. In December you meet people who bring out the best in you. You adjust your scene to accommodate family, and good financial fortune follows in May. Cancer and Aquarius adore you. Your lucky numbers are 50, 21, 54, 2 and 17.
It's true! Man I love stuff like this.
Today's birthday (Oct. 17): You have many responsibilities, though there is an overriding sense of being carefree this year. You're laughing and having a good time with this life you've built. In December you meet people who bring out the best in you. You adjust your scene to accommodate family, and good financial fortune follows in May. Cancer and Aquarius adore you. Your lucky numbers are 50, 21, 54, 2 and 17.
It's true! Man I love stuff like this.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Who Needs Sleep?
I can't sleep anymore.
Every morning I wake up between 2am and 3am after an intense dream and can't fall back asleep.
The dream varies. Sometimes I'm at work, going through a perfectly normal routine and nothing of any consequence happens. It's so real that I often can't distinguish between whether I've had a conversation in real life, or if I've only dreamt it.
Sometimes, of course, they're nightmares. My old standby nightmares where I find myself in a place that is meant to be my home, often my old childhood house on Chestnut Street, filled with room after room of half filled fish tanks and cages full of starved, dirty animals all on their death bed due to my neglect. And soon the room fills with people who stare at me, horrified. I try desperately to feed and clean all of these animals that I've never seen before knowing full well that they're all dying because of me. But I can't. I can't fix it all. Most of them are too far gone and die in my hands. And that's when I wake up, sobbing.
So then I'm awake, again, and it's somewhere in the late 3am - 4am range and I've tried to go back to sleep through several means: relaxation techniques, shifting sleeping positions, self imposed thought control. None of it works. I lie in bed, face up, staring at the dark ceiling with my mind racing full of all the things I'll do the next day, running through the standing list of projects I'm working on.
At some point I usually get desperate and try to will myself back to sleep. Apparently I just can't follow my own directions. By this time, one of my cats has discovered I'm awake and starts yowling at the foot of my bed to let me know that he knows that I know he's there. I ignore him and try shifting in bed yet again.
It never works. I can't shut my brain off. I've given up coffee and alcohol for days at a time after hearing they could be contributing factors, but no change.
Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick I hear the clock in my kitchen count off the seconds. The street lamp outside my window streams in an orange tinted light that burns through my eye lids.
Screw it. The insomnia wins and I decide to wake up for the day, bleary eyed and annoyed.
Every morning I wake up between 2am and 3am after an intense dream and can't fall back asleep.
The dream varies. Sometimes I'm at work, going through a perfectly normal routine and nothing of any consequence happens. It's so real that I often can't distinguish between whether I've had a conversation in real life, or if I've only dreamt it.
Sometimes, of course, they're nightmares. My old standby nightmares where I find myself in a place that is meant to be my home, often my old childhood house on Chestnut Street, filled with room after room of half filled fish tanks and cages full of starved, dirty animals all on their death bed due to my neglect. And soon the room fills with people who stare at me, horrified. I try desperately to feed and clean all of these animals that I've never seen before knowing full well that they're all dying because of me. But I can't. I can't fix it all. Most of them are too far gone and die in my hands. And that's when I wake up, sobbing.
So then I'm awake, again, and it's somewhere in the late 3am - 4am range and I've tried to go back to sleep through several means: relaxation techniques, shifting sleeping positions, self imposed thought control. None of it works. I lie in bed, face up, staring at the dark ceiling with my mind racing full of all the things I'll do the next day, running through the standing list of projects I'm working on.
At some point I usually get desperate and try to will myself back to sleep. Apparently I just can't follow my own directions. By this time, one of my cats has discovered I'm awake and starts yowling at the foot of my bed to let me know that he knows that I know he's there. I ignore him and try shifting in bed yet again.
It never works. I can't shut my brain off. I've given up coffee and alcohol for days at a time after hearing they could be contributing factors, but no change.
Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick I hear the clock in my kitchen count off the seconds. The street lamp outside my window streams in an orange tinted light that burns through my eye lids.
Screw it. The insomnia wins and I decide to wake up for the day, bleary eyed and annoyed.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Why I Love This Town
From the Burlington Free Press this morning:
"The first Giant Pumpkin Regatta, sponsored by The Lake Champlain Regional Chamber of Commerce, pits the region's giant gourd growers and local businesses against each other Sunday in a competition of size and speed.
"The first Giant Pumpkin Regatta, sponsored by The Lake Champlain Regional Chamber of Commerce, pits the region's giant gourd growers and local businesses against each other Sunday in a competition of size and speed.
The pumpkins will be hollowed out and raced as if they were kayaks in the event at the Coast Guard boat ramp on the Burlington waterfront. The races begin at 10 a.m. and will help raise awareness for the United Way.
Donations of nonperishable food items will be accepted and will benefit the Chittenden Emergency Food Shelf. The chamber is looking for a $500 sponsor for pumpkins."
Pumpkin kayaks racing across Lake Champlain? I'm so there. I'll post pictures if they're any good.
UPDATE: With a nasty cold and an even nastier case of insomnia, I woke up too late on Sunday to attend. From what I hear, 500 people attended to see 8 contestants paddle through Lake Champlain in hollowed out pumpkins. I'm pleased to report that no one was injured in the making of this spectacle.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
A Quick Update of Little Importance
Yet again I've been taken to task by multiple people for not updating my blog. Guilty as charged. I have no excuse other than the fact that I write for a living, so I'm not always up to creating a masterful post at the end of the day. I do have a lot I want to share: I renovated a bicycle this summer than I've been riding all over town; I bought a neat old dresser from a woman in Montpelier than I refinished and absolutely adore; I have an almost completely new living room thanks to my cats peeing all over my couch and rug; I scored a desk off the side of the road that I also refinished... I'm sensing a trend here. Apparently I've been doing a lot of refinishing. I will (I promise!) post all of these when I get around to cropping the pictures.
But in the mean time, I thought I'd share something purely off topic: I'm no longer afraid of spiders. Arachnophobia has plagued me in a major way for as long as I can remember. It's been paralyzing. There have been days (very plural) I refused to go into my car, or bedroom, or bathroom or any other essential space because a spider was spotted but went MIA. I lived in fear. Something's happened to me, though. There are just more important things to worry about than a bug I can kill with one swat of my hand. I think living on my own has something to do with it. There's no one to hear me scream when a spider the size of my palm crawls across my floor. Now I just have to step on it. It's a nice discovery. I feel freed from a major phobia. Now I'll just have to whittle down the rest of my list.
But in the mean time, I thought I'd share something purely off topic: I'm no longer afraid of spiders. Arachnophobia has plagued me in a major way for as long as I can remember. It's been paralyzing. There have been days (very plural) I refused to go into my car, or bedroom, or bathroom or any other essential space because a spider was spotted but went MIA. I lived in fear. Something's happened to me, though. There are just more important things to worry about than a bug I can kill with one swat of my hand. I think living on my own has something to do with it. There's no one to hear me scream when a spider the size of my palm crawls across my floor. Now I just have to step on it. It's a nice discovery. I feel freed from a major phobia. Now I'll just have to whittle down the rest of my list.
Friday, October 3, 2008
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