I finally got around to changing my masthead over the weekend. I try to change the image each month though I know not everyone notices. The image is always one that I've taken myself of something that I've done or seen or find particularly striking. This month is from the top of Mount Greylock after the hike of tremendous proportion. The storm that was coming was on the other side of the mountain, behind us, and this was the view with which we were blessed.
Last month's image was of tulips that were planted in a traffic island a few blocks from my apartment. I made people wait at a traffic light while I took the picture from my driver's side door. I kept it up for two months because tulip season doesn't last long enough, if you ask me, and it was too pretty for me to take away. I figured it was time to change it. I hope you like this month's and I hope you like all the others I take.
July 13, 2009
July 9, 2009
Just a Taste of My Summer Soundtrack
I listen to these songs in all seasons but their frequency is greater in the summer months.
I can't put my finger on it but there's something really light and airy about this song. It rocks, but it's not heavy. It makes me want to open a window and play it for the neighborhood.
This song was in my head during my first triathlon. The strings and the crescendos drive me. I always think of it in my summer races.
It doesn't hurt that the song is about people who live in the desert. This almost shouldn't be on the list because I listen to it year round to rock out. But like most Clash songs it's about mischief and mischief's most fun in the summer.
July 8, 2009
They Eat Liver Don't They?
I didn't make enough money in my day job in Fredericksburg to afford moving to Albany. My only option to afford the move (other than my credit card) was to get a second job. I applied around but nothing was really happening until a coworker at my day job got a job at a health store. I applied out of desperation and she got me in. In retrospect working that particular job wasn't the wisest decision because I had to do wacky stuff with my day job since the hours at the health store were pretty much only during the business day. Luckily I had a really flexible boss who really helped me out with that.
My boss at the health store was a vibrant woman. She despised vaccines, behavioral drugs and antibiotics. I'm not saying she totally eschewed conventional medicine or that she didn't have massive silicone breast implants. What I am saying she was alternative in her medicine in every way. She knew the supplements to take if you had cancer, high blood pressure, and twitching eyelids. She knew her shit. And she took it upon herself to educate the masses and shake them out of their Pfizer induced comas. I liked her. Before this job I took one crappy multivitamin. I now take a few more. Let me rephrase, I take a crap load of pills a day. Big pills, little pills, red pills, blue bills. The only prescription is my birth control, the rest are vitamins and minerals. And that's thanks to my boss' direct influence.
She taught me that there is something provided by Nature to heal any affliction and that prescriptions should be a last resort. (She wanted me and a fellow young coworker to stop taking birth control and use fertility beads instead. I politely declined.) There were other incredibly knowledgeable women who worked there but my boss attracted people like an ice cream truck in August. I'm a better person because I worked there and I'm also healthier for it. I make more educated decisions about my health and preventative medicine in general. I'm healthier, Mike's healthier and I like to think my children will be healthier. Knowledge is more than power- it's healthfulness.
But sometimes one can learn too much about alternative medical practices. Is there such a thing as learning too much? I may have found out. I read about a new movement for women to save their placentas for consumption. This nutrient rich ORGAN is said to possess hormones that will help a new mother produce more milk and stave off post-partem depression. Ok. I can understand women's concerns about those things. I'm concerned about these things. But cooking the after-birth and having it for lunch? Uh, no thank you. But being sadistic, I read on. Apparently you can cook it, dehydrate it and then make it into pills. That way you don't have to actually eat it like bloody haggis. My lunch moved back down my esophagus at that point in the article. It didn't seem so gross anymore. I would treat it like eating meat. I would ignore the middle bits and just focus on the innocent enough looking final product. You could think of it like growing your own vegetables. Something healthy for you that you grow yourself. The idea is growing on me. But as for the umbilical cord tied into a heart for a keepsake? I'll pass.
My boss at the health store was a vibrant woman. She despised vaccines, behavioral drugs and antibiotics. I'm not saying she totally eschewed conventional medicine or that she didn't have massive silicone breast implants. What I am saying she was alternative in her medicine in every way. She knew the supplements to take if you had cancer, high blood pressure, and twitching eyelids. She knew her shit. And she took it upon herself to educate the masses and shake them out of their Pfizer induced comas. I liked her. Before this job I took one crappy multivitamin. I now take a few more. Let me rephrase, I take a crap load of pills a day. Big pills, little pills, red pills, blue bills. The only prescription is my birth control, the rest are vitamins and minerals. And that's thanks to my boss' direct influence.
She taught me that there is something provided by Nature to heal any affliction and that prescriptions should be a last resort. (She wanted me and a fellow young coworker to stop taking birth control and use fertility beads instead. I politely declined.) There were other incredibly knowledgeable women who worked there but my boss attracted people like an ice cream truck in August. I'm a better person because I worked there and I'm also healthier for it. I make more educated decisions about my health and preventative medicine in general. I'm healthier, Mike's healthier and I like to think my children will be healthier. Knowledge is more than power- it's healthfulness.
But sometimes one can learn too much about alternative medical practices. Is there such a thing as learning too much? I may have found out. I read about a new movement for women to save their placentas for consumption. This nutrient rich ORGAN is said to possess hormones that will help a new mother produce more milk and stave off post-partem depression. Ok. I can understand women's concerns about those things. I'm concerned about these things. But cooking the after-birth and having it for lunch? Uh, no thank you. But being sadistic, I read on. Apparently you can cook it, dehydrate it and then make it into pills. That way you don't have to actually eat it like bloody haggis. My lunch moved back down my esophagus at that point in the article. It didn't seem so gross anymore. I would treat it like eating meat. I would ignore the middle bits and just focus on the innocent enough looking final product. You could think of it like growing your own vegetables. Something healthy for you that you grow yourself. The idea is growing on me. But as for the umbilical cord tied into a heart for a keepsake? I'll pass.
July 7, 2009
Goals, Goals, Goals
This Sunday is triathlon #2 of 2009! I'm really excited. I feel like I'm in pretty good shape and unlike the last race I don't have the swine flu. I have yet to sign up for the August triathlon because of money issues but I am so going to do it. I'm also going to be part of a team in a race this September. I'll be swimming, Mike's brother will be biking and Mike will be running. The Lake George Triathlon (the one we're doing) is an Olympic distance race which means I'll be swimming .9 miles. I almost did the whole race by myself. I'll be training for a half-marathon at that point so the 10k at the end, my only worry, would be no big deal. But I really wanted to be part of a team and I'm always trying to find things for Mike to do with me so this is perfect. I will surpass my goal of three triathlons this year! Next year I want to do four triathlons with the last one being the Lake George Triathlon.
The thing that will be super cool about the race in September is that most of my family will be there to watch me compete. It's a shame they won't see me in a full triathlon but they can watch me swim competitively- something they've never seen me do. That'll be nice. Well, I assume they will come watch me. That's the day of Mike and my engagement picnic. Am I really competing in a race and then hosting a picnic of many people- crazy family people? Yes. Yes I am. The picnic won't be until later in the afternoon and I'll probably swim for less than 30 minutes- less than a normal workout for me. Mike always runs and Joey biked over 100 miles once. This will be a piece of cake for us. We'll be amazing! And I could use the blood pressure benefits of the race. I. Will. Need. It. Bad.
Did I mention the half-marathon before? I'm running in a half-marathon with Mike. I'm trying to get friends to run it with us. So far my friend Pepper has committed. I hope he runs with me. Mike will leave me in his dust. Not because he's a jerk but because he's just faster than I. I'm looking forward to two new challenges this year. I'm going to train better for the August tri and I'm going to be pushing myself in longer swimming and running distances. It would be nice if I lost some weight in the process but that's not why I'm doing these things. I'm finding goals I can actually achieve. What a nice shift of thought.
The thing that will be super cool about the race in September is that most of my family will be there to watch me compete. It's a shame they won't see me in a full triathlon but they can watch me swim competitively- something they've never seen me do. That'll be nice. Well, I assume they will come watch me. That's the day of Mike and my engagement picnic. Am I really competing in a race and then hosting a picnic of many people- crazy family people? Yes. Yes I am. The picnic won't be until later in the afternoon and I'll probably swim for less than 30 minutes- less than a normal workout for me. Mike always runs and Joey biked over 100 miles once. This will be a piece of cake for us. We'll be amazing! And I could use the blood pressure benefits of the race. I. Will. Need. It. Bad.
Did I mention the half-marathon before? I'm running in a half-marathon with Mike. I'm trying to get friends to run it with us. So far my friend Pepper has committed. I hope he runs with me. Mike will leave me in his dust. Not because he's a jerk but because he's just faster than I. I'm looking forward to two new challenges this year. I'm going to train better for the August tri and I'm going to be pushing myself in longer swimming and running distances. It would be nice if I lost some weight in the process but that's not why I'm doing these things. I'm finding goals I can actually achieve. What a nice shift of thought.
July 1, 2009
Looks: Three
A few years ago Billy Crudup, a known film and stage actor, played John Merrick (the Elephant Man) on Broadway's The Elephant Man. In the usual press that accompanies such things he said in an article promoting the play (and I'm totally paraphrasing here) that he liked the theatre a little more than film because the stage is much more forgiving to the way people look. For those of you who aren't familiar with Billy Crudup- he looks like this:
I'm going to give him the benefit of a doubt that he meant something like if you're having a bad skin day the stage is a venue that can conceal these things. Otherwise I take what he said to mean the stage has more variety in body types and attractiveness. I disagree totally. There is just as much "diversity" on the stage as there is in film. The people are just as skinny and just as attractive. The theatre wants to sell tickets just like the movies. And they do it with sex. (And the promise of famous people in person.) Theatre is just as guilty.
That's pretty much the second biggest reason I didn't pursue a performance career on the stage. The first biggest is that I am terrible with rejection. I take it all personally even though it is a business. I was not rejected once. I was rejected every time. I was being rejected because I have a voice that only fits the parts that go to the skinny, attractive lead women. I am not that person. In the eyes of a casting agent I am the sassy best friend. I've since lost a lot of weight but I'm still not the kind of skinny The Business is looking for and wants that comes with my voice. And from what I can see, that means I have no place on the stage.
But I know I have a place in front of the stage. While I was learning performance I was also learning management. I love both very much but I love management better because I can bring the arts to more people that way. Maybe one day I can do something that doesn't discriminate and help break down some barriers. That I can try to bring change to people's minds about beauty without being literal. There are dance companies whose sole mission is to showcase diverse body types. It's not like that can't be done with theatre.
Sometimes I wonder if I will regret not trying harder. That I gave up too easily. I really miss singing. My voice was never the problem. My ass was. I will always struggle with my weight. My weight fluctuates as much as a menopausal woman's comfort level. I will never be able to eat anything I want without consequence. I will always have to work out intensely. It's really hard but I'm coming to terms with that fact. I'm willing to put in the effort to stay healthy. But I'm realizing that the best weight for me still hovers over the usual soprano's weight. That's just the way it is.
I'm going to give him the benefit of a doubt that he meant something like if you're having a bad skin day the stage is a venue that can conceal these things. Otherwise I take what he said to mean the stage has more variety in body types and attractiveness. I disagree totally. There is just as much "diversity" on the stage as there is in film. The people are just as skinny and just as attractive. The theatre wants to sell tickets just like the movies. And they do it with sex. (And the promise of famous people in person.) Theatre is just as guilty.That's pretty much the second biggest reason I didn't pursue a performance career on the stage. The first biggest is that I am terrible with rejection. I take it all personally even though it is a business. I was not rejected once. I was rejected every time. I was being rejected because I have a voice that only fits the parts that go to the skinny, attractive lead women. I am not that person. In the eyes of a casting agent I am the sassy best friend. I've since lost a lot of weight but I'm still not the kind of skinny The Business is looking for and wants that comes with my voice. And from what I can see, that means I have no place on the stage.
But I know I have a place in front of the stage. While I was learning performance I was also learning management. I love both very much but I love management better because I can bring the arts to more people that way. Maybe one day I can do something that doesn't discriminate and help break down some barriers. That I can try to bring change to people's minds about beauty without being literal. There are dance companies whose sole mission is to showcase diverse body types. It's not like that can't be done with theatre.
Sometimes I wonder if I will regret not trying harder. That I gave up too easily. I really miss singing. My voice was never the problem. My ass was. I will always struggle with my weight. My weight fluctuates as much as a menopausal woman's comfort level. I will never be able to eat anything I want without consequence. I will always have to work out intensely. It's really hard but I'm coming to terms with that fact. I'm willing to put in the effort to stay healthy. But I'm realizing that the best weight for me still hovers over the usual soprano's weight. That's just the way it is.
June 30, 2009
Let the Sightings Begin
Did you happen to notice that Michael Jackson died? Huh. That's weird. I thought he was made of plastic. I guess not. You probably did notice thanks to the massive outpouring of grief. I'm not included in those numbers. I don't feel anything about his death. His music sort of defined a small era in my life and I was a loyal music fan (I bought Dangerous right around the time of his first molestation trial. I swear the check-out person thought I was a pervert.) but not much of a fan of him. Rarely can I make that distinction. If I don't like the artist for whatever reason, chances are I can't tolerate their music. But Michael Jackson wrote some of the best pop music ever written. His songs always make me want to dance. I don't know how he did it. It's unearthly.
I suppose his music is what people are mourning. It surely isn't him. He was the butt of so many jokes for so long people stopped connecting the two sides of him- the performer and the person. And despite his long music history folks seem to mourn only Thriller, the 1985 version of Michael Jackson. I heard three cars blasting songs from that album on my ten minute walk to work this morning. His last two releases sold poorly and I think that's because people stopped associating him with his talent. He was just Jacko. And that's sad. I'm sure his estate will pull a Tupac to try and pay off some debts. We'll never hear the end of "previously unreleased tracks" and we will never see the end of people buying them in droves. Maybe he died to pay off his debts and he's off on some island somewhere with a new pet monkey.
Though Michael Jackson was more of a presence in my life I'm much sadder about Farrah Fawcett. She had real life problems- divorce (after a real attempt at marriage,) a kid with drug problems, a fight with cancer. Those are the kinds of things real people can relate to. Or at least people I know can relate to. Sure she was famous but from all accounts she had a big heart and was down to earth. She tried to help others by bringing light to her terrible disease. And that is terribly courageous. My heart goes out to both families but my deepest regrets go out to Farrah Fawcett's.
I suppose his music is what people are mourning. It surely isn't him. He was the butt of so many jokes for so long people stopped connecting the two sides of him- the performer and the person. And despite his long music history folks seem to mourn only Thriller, the 1985 version of Michael Jackson. I heard three cars blasting songs from that album on my ten minute walk to work this morning. His last two releases sold poorly and I think that's because people stopped associating him with his talent. He was just Jacko. And that's sad. I'm sure his estate will pull a Tupac to try and pay off some debts. We'll never hear the end of "previously unreleased tracks" and we will never see the end of people buying them in droves. Maybe he died to pay off his debts and he's off on some island somewhere with a new pet monkey.
Though Michael Jackson was more of a presence in my life I'm much sadder about Farrah Fawcett. She had real life problems- divorce (after a real attempt at marriage,) a kid with drug problems, a fight with cancer. Those are the kinds of things real people can relate to. Or at least people I know can relate to. Sure she was famous but from all accounts she had a big heart and was down to earth. She tried to help others by bringing light to her terrible disease. And that is terribly courageous. My heart goes out to both families but my deepest regrets go out to Farrah Fawcett's.
June 29, 2009
Take That Mt. Greylock, Take It Good
Over the weekend Mike, my friends PJ, Karen and I all went out to Western Massachusetts for a hike, dinner and a concert. I was super excited! Rarely do I get to spend so much quality time with any of those three folks- doing fun stuff and being all fun. I've been meaning to get more hikes in this summer and the concert was one I'd been looking forward to for months. Saturday was just the kind of day that makes my heart full and my life feel satiated.
Mike and I tried to hike Mt. Greylock a few years back but the trail was poorly marked and we got disoriented. By the time we found the trail we lost daylight and had to turn around when it turned into an advanced, super-duper trail. It was somewhat unsatisfying. All I wanted out of Saturday's hike was that it would be a different trail. Sort of a redemptive attempt. Luckily it was a different trail. Redemtion would be ours!
PJ and Karen are super-duper hikers whereas Mike and I are casual hikers so I was a little worried about the moderate six mile hike we were going to take to get to the top of Mount Greylock, the highest point in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Mike seemed pretty okay with it so I took my cue from him. If he felt we could handle it then we could. We packed some rain coats, bananas and plenty of water for our endeavor.
Oy, was that hike tough. I was trailing everyone else and I wasn't carrying a pack. Karen was walking with her hands on her waist, sweatless and fit while I was sweating and breathing like a pack mule. I never felt so out of shape like I did on that day. In between heaving breaths I said that to Mike and he patted my soaked back and said it's a totally different type of activity- one that I'm not used to and that I am in fact, in shape. I bought it and kept enjoying nature. (Did you ever notice how the more intense the hike the less you actually get to enjoy your surroundings? You're constantly looking at where your feet are going so you don't fall and twist your ankle, or get your non-waterproof shoes soaking wet, or break your face on a rock. It's a shame really.)
I was too busy not breaking my face when Karen mentioned that the vegetation was changing and that the summit must be close. (Did you know that the higher up you go the pinier the vegetation? I do now!) Right about then we hear a car in the near distance. I assumed we were approaching an access road because many radio and television stations broadcast from the top of Mt. Greylock. Then I see the trees start to break up into a clearing. I'm imagining the awesome I-conquered-the-crap-out-of-this-mountain pose I was going to strike for a picture when I see a parked Subaru and some non-sweaty people standing on the edge of a perfectly paved road. Okay. Uh. I guess people live up here and this is just another residential road? We shrug it off and cross the street to continue the conquering of the mountain. Not ten minutes later we find the transmitter complete with public port-a-potties. And more people. People paying money to park at the top of Mt. Greylock and poke about.
I was a little taken aback at the total shift in context. I had no idea that the summit was a tourist attraction. Here we were- sweaty, no longer triumphant and surrounded by fanny packs. My sense of accomplishment was kind of a little muted. I did not take my I-conquered-the-crap-out-of-this-mountain pose. Instead I plunked my sticky, tired ass on the ground and cooled off in the breeze trying to remind myself that I climbed 1900 feet to achieve something almost everyone else there needed a car to achieve. And I did it while enjoying great conversation (well PJ, Karen and Mike had the conversation. I just listened.) and great company. I eventually reclaimed my sense of triumph. And then wished I could just get in a car and drive back down the mountain to a shower and some ice cream.
Mike and I tried to hike Mt. Greylock a few years back but the trail was poorly marked and we got disoriented. By the time we found the trail we lost daylight and had to turn around when it turned into an advanced, super-duper trail. It was somewhat unsatisfying. All I wanted out of Saturday's hike was that it would be a different trail. Sort of a redemptive attempt. Luckily it was a different trail. Redemtion would be ours!
PJ and Karen are super-duper hikers whereas Mike and I are casual hikers so I was a little worried about the moderate six mile hike we were going to take to get to the top of Mount Greylock, the highest point in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Mike seemed pretty okay with it so I took my cue from him. If he felt we could handle it then we could. We packed some rain coats, bananas and plenty of water for our endeavor.
Oy, was that hike tough. I was trailing everyone else and I wasn't carrying a pack. Karen was walking with her hands on her waist, sweatless and fit while I was sweating and breathing like a pack mule. I never felt so out of shape like I did on that day. In between heaving breaths I said that to Mike and he patted my soaked back and said it's a totally different type of activity- one that I'm not used to and that I am in fact, in shape. I bought it and kept enjoying nature. (Did you ever notice how the more intense the hike the less you actually get to enjoy your surroundings? You're constantly looking at where your feet are going so you don't fall and twist your ankle, or get your non-waterproof shoes soaking wet, or break your face on a rock. It's a shame really.)
I was too busy not breaking my face when Karen mentioned that the vegetation was changing and that the summit must be close. (Did you know that the higher up you go the pinier the vegetation? I do now!) Right about then we hear a car in the near distance. I assumed we were approaching an access road because many radio and television stations broadcast from the top of Mt. Greylock. Then I see the trees start to break up into a clearing. I'm imagining the awesome I-conquered-the-crap-out-of-this-mountain pose I was going to strike for a picture when I see a parked Subaru and some non-sweaty people standing on the edge of a perfectly paved road. Okay. Uh. I guess people live up here and this is just another residential road? We shrug it off and cross the street to continue the conquering of the mountain. Not ten minutes later we find the transmitter complete with public port-a-potties. And more people. People paying money to park at the top of Mt. Greylock and poke about.
I was a little taken aback at the total shift in context. I had no idea that the summit was a tourist attraction. Here we were- sweaty, no longer triumphant and surrounded by fanny packs. My sense of accomplishment was kind of a little muted. I did not take my I-conquered-the-crap-out-of-this-mountain pose. Instead I plunked my sticky, tired ass on the ground and cooled off in the breeze trying to remind myself that I climbed 1900 feet to achieve something almost everyone else there needed a car to achieve. And I did it while enjoying great conversation (well PJ, Karen and Mike had the conversation. I just listened.) and great company. I eventually reclaimed my sense of triumph. And then wished I could just get in a car and drive back down the mountain to a shower and some ice cream.
June 25, 2009
Conditioning More Than Air
Back before the housing bubble splat the entrails of hope all over the economy there were countless mortgage commercials from both reputable companies and those not so reputable. There was one in particular that I remembered from Bank of America, I'm pretty sure, that showed this guy turning on all the lights in his empty house and opening all the windows and doors. He then calls his mother while standing in the open front door to tell his father that he left all the lights on and is air conditioning the whole neighborhood. The closing line that came across the screen was something about owning your own home lets you call the shots. That commercial bothered me then and it bothers me now.
Back when it aired it bothered me because I thought it was just careless and stupid. He could've just called his mother and figuratively told her that he had all the lights on and the windows open. But no, he had to waste all that energy and money. I assume he only did that once to prove the point but what does that say about his attitude as a home owner? Is he loaded so he can do whatever he wants? Is he that bitter about his parents teaching him how to use energy responsibly that he has to rub his mother's face in it? Apparently the answers are it sucks, yes and yes. What an asshole.
The commercial bothers me now because putting our air conditioning units into just two windows makes our electricity bill jump more than 50%. There are many reasons for the hike. We live on the third floor, our ceilings are incredibly high, and the windows are old and inefficient. But still, putting the units on relatively high temps and on energy saving settings our bill is just huge. Luckily this only applies for about three months of the year but it really sucks when we have to take money from our grocery budget so we can have the air conditioning. First world problems, I know. But when you can't sleep, when the food in your pantry goes stale much too quickly no matter what you do and you have issues breathing when really hot and humid, you need air conditioning. But you need to be responsible with it.
This summer I'm going to try to be even more responsible. I'm going to keep the set temperatures a few degrees higher than before. I'm going to block the rooms that lead off the living room with curtains to try and keep the room cooler longer. I'm going to draw curtains during the day to keep the sunlight down (none of it is direct sunlight but still warming.) I'm also going to turn the units off outright at night instead of letting them just kick on in the morning. These will all probably make very little difference financially but we'll give it a go this summer. At the very least, we'll be making the effort to be more responsible. That's something worth sharing with your parents.
Back when it aired it bothered me because I thought it was just careless and stupid. He could've just called his mother and figuratively told her that he had all the lights on and the windows open. But no, he had to waste all that energy and money. I assume he only did that once to prove the point but what does that say about his attitude as a home owner? Is he loaded so he can do whatever he wants? Is he that bitter about his parents teaching him how to use energy responsibly that he has to rub his mother's face in it? Apparently the answers are it sucks, yes and yes. What an asshole.
The commercial bothers me now because putting our air conditioning units into just two windows makes our electricity bill jump more than 50%. There are many reasons for the hike. We live on the third floor, our ceilings are incredibly high, and the windows are old and inefficient. But still, putting the units on relatively high temps and on energy saving settings our bill is just huge. Luckily this only applies for about three months of the year but it really sucks when we have to take money from our grocery budget so we can have the air conditioning. First world problems, I know. But when you can't sleep, when the food in your pantry goes stale much too quickly no matter what you do and you have issues breathing when really hot and humid, you need air conditioning. But you need to be responsible with it.
This summer I'm going to try to be even more responsible. I'm going to keep the set temperatures a few degrees higher than before. I'm going to block the rooms that lead off the living room with curtains to try and keep the room cooler longer. I'm going to draw curtains during the day to keep the sunlight down (none of it is direct sunlight but still warming.) I'm also going to turn the units off outright at night instead of letting them just kick on in the morning. These will all probably make very little difference financially but we'll give it a go this summer. At the very least, we'll be making the effort to be more responsible. That's something worth sharing with your parents.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)