The rest of our time in Rome (at least, in the first part of our trip) was a series of highs and lows. By the third full day I was getting desperate for some protein, and after we experienced the Campo di Fiori market (way cool - I got some awesome photos, lost to the ether) we found a restaurant that had exactly what I needed - an "ensalata ricca" - fresh green salad with eggs, mozarella, tomatoes, tuna, all kinds of good stuff. Dan said that while watching me consume that salad he also saw my mood take a 180 degree turn for the better. MLE needs food, but she most especially needs good lean protein and not an abundance of carbs, to keep her blood sugar stable. It was a great lunch, though it cost more than I would have liked (he had pasta, and we split a chicken dish, and we had wine), and after my blood sugar and mood returned to normal stability, we wandered through the old Jewish Ghetto looking for the synagogue. We never did find it, but we did find these other cool old ruins just hanging out in the middle of the city. The rain got steadily heavier, and people disappeared indoors, so it felt like we had the whole city to ourselves.
We walked through the city passing major landmarks (the tridente, up the Spanish steps, the street of four fountains) to a place recommended by Simon; a church containing the bones of thousands of Capuchin monks which had been placed into interesting tableaux, and also along the walls and ceiling of the rooms. Some bones had even been made into chandeliers. The place didn't charge but just requested donations, and we were out of the rain for a while while Dan drew some of the bones (specifically, a child's bones holding a scythe and scales also made out of bones, with wings made out of bones). The rain didn't let up at all as we walked north and east trying to find another cool church recommended in our guidebook. "Further up xyz street," we came to realize, meant "a really long way up this street, far past where the maps in the book or any of the maps we have with us depict." This was one of the annoying things about our Rough Guide Rome - if you want to visit some of the places they list, they don't always have addresses and they list places that are not on any of the maps. We trudged through the rain getting more and more wet and more and more discouraged, as it grew darker and colder. Many of the sidewalks collected water to the point where my shoes and pants were soaked through. Eventually we bought some really overpriced cough drops (trying to buy something that would help Dan's cough) and asked directions to the church of the pharmacist. "Another 800 meters," he answered. We gave up and turned around, heading back toward the area shown on our map. It's too difficult to navigate a strange city (especially one as old as Rome with streets as irregular and narrow) in the dark, in the rain, with no map. We never did make it to that church or the amazingly cool catacombs that supposedly lay beneath it.
I was really glad we were staying in that hotel that night. When we got back and unpacked everything from our daypacks and changed into dry clothes, Dan realized that his sketchbook had gotten pretty wet. He was really upset about it, but I suggested that he use the hairdryer in the bathroom to dry it out and it worked pretty well - the pages are still kind of wrinkly but none of the ink ran, so the book was still viable. My shoes took three days to dry, even with the help of the hair dryer; I was really glad I'd brought a second (though less comfortable walking on cobblestones) pair. The next morning we took advantage of the free breakfast offered by the hotel (something we didn't realize was available before), and it was one of the best breakfast spreads I'd ever seen in a European hotel or hostel. There were multiple kinds of breads and rolls and pastries, meats and cheeses, nutella, jam, three kinds of cereal, yogurt, hardboiled eggs, and a machine that would make a variety of coffee, juice, and tea-related beverages. All for free! We waited around in our hotel room for most of the morning, hoping the rain would stop, and it did (eventually).
When we went into Rome, we realized it was Epiphany - the 12th day of Christmas, a holiday for Italians, so many things were closed. We spent some time wandering around the Trastavere neighborhood, eating some pretty good pizza and enjoying the sights. Eventually we meandered to another part of the city to find a gelato place famous for a particular gelato-based dessert called Death by Chocolate. It was worth every penny we paid, and we watched the Epiphany goings-on in the piazza with three fountains, a carnival for the holiday. There were booths selling witch dolls on strings, witch masks, and brooms.(While we saw plenty of Santas climbing buildings when we were in Rome, Italy's tradition is for La Befana, the good witch, to bring toys to children on the eve of Epiphany as she flies around looking for the baby Jesus). There were booths selling all manner of candy and these enormous donuts. Small children were enjoying huge candied apples, and everyone was in a festive mood because it was a holiday and the rain had stopped. Italians were on holiday for one more day, and many of them were gathered in the typical tourist places. Dan stood drawing Trevi fountain while I watched tourists of all stripes, but mostly Italians, standing next to the fountain but facing away, tossing coins over their shoulders for luck and to ensure a return to Rome. When Dan was finished with his drawing, we tossed in a couple of coins ourselves.
We completed our tour of the city at Termini station where we bought our train tickets to Florence and then found a suggested restaurant in our guidebook near the Coliseum. That meal was probably the best we had in Rome; I had a fantastic minestrone soup and Dan had a homemade linguine bolognese. We split a piece of lasagne that was to die for; perfect melting layers of fresh pasta, cheese, and a sauce so rich and flavorful yet light that put to shame every lasagne either of us had ever experienced. It was quite warm inside, as they had a pizza oven going and a guy efficiently rolling out and tossing dough, spreading with sauce and fresh mozzarella, and adding toppings as necessary. Each pizza was a work of art. The service left quite a bit to be desired, and the tiramisu was just okay, but that lasagne - oh!
Our last free hotel breakfast was equally as good, and we packed and checked out of our hotel, took the train into the city and checked into our hostel (dorm beds were 8 euro each that night, far less than before the holiday). After our luggage had been squared away, we set out to do more exploration of the city, heading back to the San Lorenzo area, seeing friendly stray cats all over the place in the cemetary we'd tried to see a few days before (the church, alas, was not open). It was a beautiful and moving cemetary, and very interesting to see the variety of gravesites, tombs, and headstones - in one area, it was set up almost like a military cemetary, with the graves of soldiers who died in World War Two. Other parts of the cemetary reminded me quite a bit of the Catholic cemetary in Louisville we visited with EEK when we were there in July.
After the cemetary, we found lunch in a restaurant nearby, which turned out to be very good. I was feeling mighty poorly at this point and we split a liter of real sugar Coke that made my throat far less painful. The tiramisu we shared for dessert was what I'd been waiting over seven years to have again - it was phenomenally good. We hung out by the old city wall a while so Dan could draw and I made him do some awesome madlibs my cousin had given me for Christmas. We went back to our hostel, which had one of the weirdest setups I'd ever seen, and were shown to our room - in a completely different building, up and through a courtyard in an apartment with a sign on the door that said "pink palace." There were only three beds in our room, and nobody stayed in the third bed, so we had the room to ourselves. Neither of us felt very well, so we relaxed for a while before going out and exploring a nearby church, the Santa Maria Nuovo. While we didn't have to pay to get in, there was a machine in which one could deposit euro coins in order to illuminate various artwork around the inside of the church. Someone chose to light up a particularly beautiful mosaic while we were exploring, for which I was very glad. It was a thoroughly lovely church and felt much more spiritual and holy than St. Peter's Basilica had, as it wasn't a series of homages to popes but instead just full of beauty dedicated to God.
One of the reasons we'd chosen to stay at this particular hostel, aside from its proximity to Termini station, was that they offered "free dinner and free breakfast." There wasn't any common area in the hostel, just a little vestibule where the computer and intake area were, and some rooms full of bunk beds. I wondered whether there was another room somewhere. When we arrived for "free dinner" we found that no, in fact, there was no other room, and the little ten by five area was stuffed to the gills with young backpacker types, all drinking "free wine" (horrible rotgut) and holding flimsy thin plastic bowls. There was no room for us, so we were instructed to sit on someone's bed in one of the dorm rooms by ourselves. Eventually we were served some sort of broccoli-ish soup, which tasted OK but was terribly hot and impossible to hold while standing/sitting. Several people spilled. After the soup, there was a serving of the worst pasta I've ever eaten, with a watery pink sauce, carrots, peas, and potatoes all mixed in. I ate three bites and promptly threw it away having an acute case of indigestion from the rotgut and the soup. We couldn't really socialize with anyone, since there was no room in the vestibule and nobody else in the room with us, so we just left and fell asleep super early wondering what surprises awaited us at "free breakfast."
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Wednesday Wedding Day - Less than 2 months, can I wig out yet?
Yesterday marked 2 months until we get married.
On the one hand, we've been together for over six and a half years. It's not like we're jumping the gun on getting married or anything - in fact, I bet a lot of people who know us wonder why we waited this long. And most of the wedding stuff is done, planned, taken care of, and those things that aren't are either going to be last minute (as in, taking place during the week before the wedding) or are currently in progress.
On the other hand, holy crap, it's less than two months until we get married! I feel like there's so much still to do, so many little detail-y things. Our invitations got sent out last week, and we've gotten a lot of positive feedback (Dan spent countless hours working on them). In fact, I have a little fluttery stomach moment every time his email client dings, because it means it might be an RSVP. Even though we have a pretty good idea who is coming and who isn't, I'm still really excited about it. Once we know for sure who is coming, there will be a few more projects to do. But since we now have the major things figured out, and many of the minor ones, I'm not feeling completely overwhelmed.
I've talked a lot about the wedding over the last few months (and in two weeks, we'll have been engaged for a year, so I've had a long time to think about it) but I haven't talked much about how I feel about getting married. I guess for me, it's a natural progression of a relationship that began many years ago. I moved to Colorado with a pretty good idea somewhere in my mind that we'd end up at this point eventually (otherwise, I wouldn't have spent a year and a half flying back and forth and conducting the bulk of relationship over the phone/internet). It was a leap of faith, sure, but I had a feeling from the very beginning that this could be a permanent deal. I was only 22 when Dan and I got together, so I wasn't willing to entertain the idea of "forever" at that point. It took a few years of us dealing with all of the things that life threw at us before I came around and started thinking that hey, yeah, maybe we should get married. I think it took Dan a little bit longer than that. I'm really excited for the wedding, to have so many of our friends and family all in one place to celebrate this thing we've created together, to have it documented for posterity. But in all honesty, in some ways I've felt married for quite some time - perhaps since we got engaged or even before. We committed to each other at some point in the years we've lived together, so the wedding is just a way to make it clear to society and community that hey, we're in it for the long haul.
Perhaps the most visible symbol of our new status of husband and wife is that after we're married we're going to share a last name, which is important to both of us. I'm not changing my name to his, and he isn't changing his name to mine; we're both changing our last names to a new name that combines letters from each of our current names. I'm not especially attached to mine, and don't particularly like his. He feels about the same way. Years before we got engaged, we started talking about what we might do with our names if we got married, and this idea came up at least two years ago. We've both had quite some time to get used to the idea and then both got really excited about it. We're lucky in that our names mesh pretty well together to create a name we both like. At some point during the ceremony, our rockstar officiant is going to say something about our new name, and why we chose to change to that name. I'm sure there will be people who don't understand why we would want to do what we're doing, but you know what? It's our names, and our decision. I can't wait to be a Stryker.
On the one hand, we've been together for over six and a half years. It's not like we're jumping the gun on getting married or anything - in fact, I bet a lot of people who know us wonder why we waited this long. And most of the wedding stuff is done, planned, taken care of, and those things that aren't are either going to be last minute (as in, taking place during the week before the wedding) or are currently in progress.
On the other hand, holy crap, it's less than two months until we get married! I feel like there's so much still to do, so many little detail-y things. Our invitations got sent out last week, and we've gotten a lot of positive feedback (Dan spent countless hours working on them). In fact, I have a little fluttery stomach moment every time his email client dings, because it means it might be an RSVP. Even though we have a pretty good idea who is coming and who isn't, I'm still really excited about it. Once we know for sure who is coming, there will be a few more projects to do. But since we now have the major things figured out, and many of the minor ones, I'm not feeling completely overwhelmed.
I've talked a lot about the wedding over the last few months (and in two weeks, we'll have been engaged for a year, so I've had a long time to think about it) but I haven't talked much about how I feel about getting married. I guess for me, it's a natural progression of a relationship that began many years ago. I moved to Colorado with a pretty good idea somewhere in my mind that we'd end up at this point eventually (otherwise, I wouldn't have spent a year and a half flying back and forth and conducting the bulk of relationship over the phone/internet). It was a leap of faith, sure, but I had a feeling from the very beginning that this could be a permanent deal. I was only 22 when Dan and I got together, so I wasn't willing to entertain the idea of "forever" at that point. It took a few years of us dealing with all of the things that life threw at us before I came around and started thinking that hey, yeah, maybe we should get married. I think it took Dan a little bit longer than that. I'm really excited for the wedding, to have so many of our friends and family all in one place to celebrate this thing we've created together, to have it documented for posterity. But in all honesty, in some ways I've felt married for quite some time - perhaps since we got engaged or even before. We committed to each other at some point in the years we've lived together, so the wedding is just a way to make it clear to society and community that hey, we're in it for the long haul.
Perhaps the most visible symbol of our new status of husband and wife is that after we're married we're going to share a last name, which is important to both of us. I'm not changing my name to his, and he isn't changing his name to mine; we're both changing our last names to a new name that combines letters from each of our current names. I'm not especially attached to mine, and don't particularly like his. He feels about the same way. Years before we got engaged, we started talking about what we might do with our names if we got married, and this idea came up at least two years ago. We've both had quite some time to get used to the idea and then both got really excited about it. We're lucky in that our names mesh pretty well together to create a name we both like. At some point during the ceremony, our rockstar officiant is going to say something about our new name, and why we chose to change to that name. I'm sure there will be people who don't understand why we would want to do what we're doing, but you know what? It's our names, and our decision. I can't wait to be a Stryker.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Variety hour (plus weekend update)
Today, for the first time in more than four years, my coworkers found out what I do. I did a presentation at our staff meeting today, adapting a presentation I do at trainings for new people in the school districts, and for nearly an hour people listened to ME for once. And asked ME questions. And paid attention to ME. It felt really, really good, in a strange way. I've spent more than four years attending staff meetings, having to listen to other people's projects and conferences and such, never having anything to do with my job or my program. Today, it was My Turn, and I got a lot of compliments on my presentation. Woot!
I'm also starting to feel a little better, like I have enough energy to do things like go for walks and work out. Yesterday, Dan and I walked to the ice cream shop (Lik's!) because it was sunny and over 60F, a rarity for January, so we took advantage of it. His assignment for his photography class involved introducing an element of randomness into two rolls of film. So I got to choose what he shot and when, which turned out to be a lot of fun. We walked around in the park after we had ice cream (which was good, but no gelato) and watched the doggies gamboling and the kids swinging and the people playing frisbee in the rare January warmth. It's supposed to get really cold again by the end of this week, so I'm glad we had a chance to walk around outside. Today I plan to go to the gym to work off some of the adrenaline-fueled energy I have from giving the presentation this morning. Plus, I'm feeling better enough that it's about time I get back to my routine. I still want that dress to fit, after all.
Speaking of dresses, this weekend was also full of Getting Wedding Stuff Done. I found a fabric store here in Denver with an Entire Room full of the kind of fabric I need to make the bridesmaid dresses, so I had quite a bit more to choose from than I expected to have. I'm really excited to start working on these; I think they will be gorgeous. And we also met with an independent jewelry designer-type person who will be making our wedding rings. My finger feels nekkid, since she's got my engagement ring so she can make a wax cast of it in order to fit the wedding ring to match exactly. I'm so excited to see what she comes up with for our rings, which were really the last big thing we hadn't figured out yet.
Also, we took down the Christmas tree, since it was our first opportunity to do so when we both felt healthy enough to put the effort into it (and it was light enough while we were both home). I don't think I've ever seen a tree that dry before. It's been drier than usual this winter, and the tree sat in our house for a month with no water, so I'm actually surprised it managed to leave the house with any needles intact at all. I took a few pictures of needle carnage with Dan's digital camera but I will have to wait until he gets home tonight so he can show me how to upload them and I can post them for you all to see. I'm just glad we mostly have wood/linoleum floors!
Thanks for all your comments on my previous post. I found it really interesting how people's taste seemed to differ in terms of which photos you all liked best. We chose our five favorites (with one alternate that we loved almost as much) and sent the list to the photographer. I have no idea what that means (he just asked for our five favorites), but in case you're curious, our top five were: 6233, 6292, 6858, 6973, 7000. Alternate: 6896.
I'm also starting to feel a little better, like I have enough energy to do things like go for walks and work out. Yesterday, Dan and I walked to the ice cream shop (Lik's!) because it was sunny and over 60F, a rarity for January, so we took advantage of it. His assignment for his photography class involved introducing an element of randomness into two rolls of film. So I got to choose what he shot and when, which turned out to be a lot of fun. We walked around in the park after we had ice cream (which was good, but no gelato) and watched the doggies gamboling and the kids swinging and the people playing frisbee in the rare January warmth. It's supposed to get really cold again by the end of this week, so I'm glad we had a chance to walk around outside. Today I plan to go to the gym to work off some of the adrenaline-fueled energy I have from giving the presentation this morning. Plus, I'm feeling better enough that it's about time I get back to my routine. I still want that dress to fit, after all.
Speaking of dresses, this weekend was also full of Getting Wedding Stuff Done. I found a fabric store here in Denver with an Entire Room full of the kind of fabric I need to make the bridesmaid dresses, so I had quite a bit more to choose from than I expected to have. I'm really excited to start working on these; I think they will be gorgeous. And we also met with an independent jewelry designer-type person who will be making our wedding rings. My finger feels nekkid, since she's got my engagement ring so she can make a wax cast of it in order to fit the wedding ring to match exactly. I'm so excited to see what she comes up with for our rings, which were really the last big thing we hadn't figured out yet.
Also, we took down the Christmas tree, since it was our first opportunity to do so when we both felt healthy enough to put the effort into it (and it was light enough while we were both home). I don't think I've ever seen a tree that dry before. It's been drier than usual this winter, and the tree sat in our house for a month with no water, so I'm actually surprised it managed to leave the house with any needles intact at all. I took a few pictures of needle carnage with Dan's digital camera but I will have to wait until he gets home tonight so he can show me how to upload them and I can post them for you all to see. I'm just glad we mostly have wood/linoleum floors!
Thanks for all your comments on my previous post. I found it really interesting how people's taste seemed to differ in terms of which photos you all liked best. We chose our five favorites (with one alternate that we loved almost as much) and sent the list to the photographer. I have no idea what that means (he just asked for our five favorites), but in case you're curious, our top five were: 6233, 6292, 6858, 6973, 7000. Alternate: 6896.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Yes Foto
I've never liked having my picture taken. In fact, I find it to be kind of a weird phenomenon, having someone point a machine at me and produce an image that I rarely find to be representative of what I think I look like (or at least, what the mirror tells me). I was a cute kid, and kind of a weird-looking teenager, and since then I've hardly had my picture taken at all. In fact, I never even had senior portraits taken, mostly because I was embarassed about my skin.
My skin's mostly better these days, but it's still blotchy and uneven, and I rarely wear makeup because it's so sensitive. I knew, though, that I would need to figure out something makeup-wise for the wedding because I would be having my picture taken all day long, a prospect that fills me with a little bit of dread. And I want those photos to look good, because it's probably the only time in my life I'll be paying someone to take photos of me (and Dan, of course, but he always looks good).
One of the other things about the California part of our recent month-away-from-home that I really stressed about was the engagement shoot. Though it might seem like somewhat of a narcissistic or unnecessary add-on to a pretty low-key and low-budget wedding, I really wanted to do it so I would have a chance to get used to having someone point a camera at me for an extended period of time (read: more than one snapshot). While I had every confidence in our photographer to capture great photos of other people (having seen his work), I was really nervous that I would hate the way I looked in the photos he took, because it's just how I usually react. I don't think I'm at all photogenic, and a while ago I just resigned myself to never looking good in pictures. But I wanted to look good in these pictures!
Luckily, the day we picked to take photos in San Francisco was one of the most beautiful days I've ever seen (there), not to mention it was late December. We had an appointment to meet at 2 PM at Baker Beach, and we were a few minutes late because I got us lost trying to navigate through the Presidio. Our photographer got there really early because he wanted to scout out the area, and I guess he felt bad for being so late when we met with him before (that wasn't his fault; it was horrible traffic in both directions). He found some really neat places to shoot, and after about 5 minutes I was completely comfortable with just playing on the beach, holding Dan's hand, and enjoying the gorgeous day. It was warm and sunny, with hardly any breeze. The colors were crisp and clear, very difficult to come by any day of the year on a San Francisco beach. We got really lucky that the day was so pretty, and I am thrilled that we had such a good time working with the photographer. I feel much better about the prospect of having my picture taken all day long now.
Yesterday, the photographer sent me an email with the link to our photos. I really wanted to put it up on the blog immediately, but Dan wasn't home until about 7 PM last night and I wanted him to get to see them first. After seeing these pictures, I am so glad that we decided to go with the photographer we picked - I think he's really talented, and I think we're getting a fantastic deal - but I'm also thrilled that he's so good at making us both feel comfortable around the camera(s). And I could not be happier with the results of the engagement shoot.
Which ones do you guys like best?
My skin's mostly better these days, but it's still blotchy and uneven, and I rarely wear makeup because it's so sensitive. I knew, though, that I would need to figure out something makeup-wise for the wedding because I would be having my picture taken all day long, a prospect that fills me with a little bit of dread. And I want those photos to look good, because it's probably the only time in my life I'll be paying someone to take photos of me (and Dan, of course, but he always looks good).
One of the other things about the California part of our recent month-away-from-home that I really stressed about was the engagement shoot. Though it might seem like somewhat of a narcissistic or unnecessary add-on to a pretty low-key and low-budget wedding, I really wanted to do it so I would have a chance to get used to having someone point a camera at me for an extended period of time (read: more than one snapshot). While I had every confidence in our photographer to capture great photos of other people (having seen his work), I was really nervous that I would hate the way I looked in the photos he took, because it's just how I usually react. I don't think I'm at all photogenic, and a while ago I just resigned myself to never looking good in pictures. But I wanted to look good in these pictures!
Luckily, the day we picked to take photos in San Francisco was one of the most beautiful days I've ever seen (there), not to mention it was late December. We had an appointment to meet at 2 PM at Baker Beach, and we were a few minutes late because I got us lost trying to navigate through the Presidio. Our photographer got there really early because he wanted to scout out the area, and I guess he felt bad for being so late when we met with him before (that wasn't his fault; it was horrible traffic in both directions). He found some really neat places to shoot, and after about 5 minutes I was completely comfortable with just playing on the beach, holding Dan's hand, and enjoying the gorgeous day. It was warm and sunny, with hardly any breeze. The colors were crisp and clear, very difficult to come by any day of the year on a San Francisco beach. We got really lucky that the day was so pretty, and I am thrilled that we had such a good time working with the photographer. I feel much better about the prospect of having my picture taken all day long now.
Yesterday, the photographer sent me an email with the link to our photos. I really wanted to put it up on the blog immediately, but Dan wasn't home until about 7 PM last night and I wanted him to get to see them first. After seeing these pictures, I am so glad that we decided to go with the photographer we picked - I think he's really talented, and I think we're getting a fantastic deal - but I'm also thrilled that he's so good at making us both feel comfortable around the camera(s). And I could not be happier with the results of the engagement shoot.
Which ones do you guys like best?
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Travel Thursday: Oh yeah, we went to Italy!
Rome Part One - Sorry there aren't any pictures :(
We landed in Rome after two harrowing plane changes (luckily, we'd carried on all our baggage) and many many hours without sleep. According to our Rough Guide (more on this book later), we had the option of taking a cab or taking an 11euro train ride into the city from the airport. Luckily, we figured out that we could take a less expensive train to a different station and transfer to the metro line we needed to get to our hotel. So we did that instead.
We lucked out on a great hotel deal for Rome - $45 US/night for 5 nights, 3star hotel, which was cheaper than two hostel dorm beds would have been, and we had our own room with bathroom. It was not actually in Rome, but to the southeast of the city in a little town called Ostia Antica. We got to the Ostia metro stop and crossed the highway, to discover that it was a Really Little Town. Luckily, our hotel was on the one main street, so we started walking. And walking. There was no sidewalk for at least half of it, and the cars were going a good 40MPH along the street. We kind of feared for our lives and I had this mental picture of us as turtles on our backs in the middle of this busy road (we each had a larger backpack and smaller daypack, so wore the big one on our back and the small on our front). When we arrived at the hotel and asked if there was a back-road way to walk there from the station, the clerk looked at us in horror and told us to take the bus. Luckily, the bus system and metro system in the general Rome area are linked up, so one ticket is good on either system for 75 minutes. We decided not to try to walk between the hotel and the metro stop again, just because we preferred not to end up being roadkill.
Our hotel room was very nice, and we ended up taking a little nap, which turned into sleeping from 3:30 PM until about 6 the next morning. Ahhhh.
But of course, when we woke up I was starving. We didn't have much food with us, so we headed out for the metro and into Rome. Simon of A Girl and a Boy had loaned us a book full of walking tours of Rome, so we took the metro to Termini station (kind of a central point) and walked to where one of the tours started, grabbing some sandwiches in a little bar along the way. A note on food in Italy: you will see a lot of signs that say Bar. Mostly they sell a variety of things, including premade sandwiches/panini, cigarettes and candy, and booze and coffee. People eat standing up, and the ones that have tables, you have to pay extra in order to sit. Word to the wise.
Anyhow, we spent the first few hours taking one of the walking tours Simon had recommended (down Via Nazionale, around some ruins, up through the out-of-place Vittorio monument and down through the Roman Forum and around the Coliseum). Along the way, we found a grocery store and stopped in to provision ourselves. We found this was an economical way to eat in China, and it proved to be even more economical in Italy, since it was pretty much the only way we could eat three meals a day and not spend a ton of money (even take-away sandwiches and pizza are still 3-4 euro each, which translated to 4.50-6.00 US each - when it's two people, that can add up). So anyhow, the walking tour was really cool as it explained things about the buildings we were passing. Dan really enjoyed the ruins and the forum and walking around the Coliseum, and I really enjoyed getting to see them again, and sharing the experience with him.
For me, the Roman Forum is one of the most interesting things in Rome. It's fully amazing to me that this incredibly old thing, part of an ancient bit of Western Civilization, is just smack dab in the middle of the city of Rome. After more than 2000 years, it's still there - nobody has destroyed it, and thousands of people every year walk through the same pathways that the Roman hoi polloi walked through millenia ago. Nutty.
We decided not to stand in line/pay to tour the inside of the coliseum, but instead to walk around it and peek into the parts on the far side where you don't see many other tourists. Dan told me some interesting historical bits about the coliseum, and then we wandered over to the Arch of Constantine (more historical bits) and then attempted to climb the Palatine hill, where we got stopped in our tracks because we went the wrong way, and then it turned out you had to pay a bunch of money to get in (and it mostly just looked like a nice park) so we opted out.
One of the really cool things about Rome is that despite it being a really big city, most of the stuff you might wish to see as a tourist is within an easily walkable distance. We walked from the Paletine hill up to the Pantheon area and grabbed some take-away pizza (I think the best pizza we had in Rome, since it was hot and fresh from the oven, mmmm!), then went inside the Pantheon and marveled. I also find the Pantheon to be amazingly cool, even without knowing what an architectural feat it was at the time. Dan decided to draw the Pantheon, so we sat there in the afternoon chill while lots of tourists milled around and people trying to sell noisy things to tourists milled around after them.
We wandered by Trevi Fountain (more tourists, mostly Italian) on our way back to Termini station, and we looked for a place to go online to email our families and let them know we weren't dead. It took a while, since it was the 3rd of January and many places were still closed for the holidays, but we found one and then metro'd back to our hotel. We ate dinner in our hotel restaurant - it was decent and not terribly expensive - and then fell asleep pretty early after watching some so-awful-it's-funny Italian television and drinking boxed red wine (we didn't have a corkscrew).
The next day we were up pretty early and in the line for the Vatican Museum before it opened, eating our breakfast while we waited. It wasn't terribly cold (though I'd prepared by wearing warm tights under my pants) and the tourist-pushers were attempting to sell scarves and gloves to those who weren't wearing them. The line moved pretty quickly once the museum opened, and I'm pretty sure most of the people in line were Italian tourists (as all of Italy seems to be on vacation until Epiphany, January 6). If one planned a trip to Rome during high tourist season (read: summer) and one had specific time constraints, it might make sense to join a tour group, as that lets you jump the line. However, it's a really high price (I think I heard 90 euro?), so for people who have more time than money it really doesn't make sense.
The Vatican Museum was one of the things I skipped during my first trip to Rome, reasoning that I'd be back someday - and I was right. In a way, the museum is completely overwhelming, much like the Louvre, but in a way it's not difficult to see only the things you really want to see and go quickly through the things you don't care as much about. However, if you get there when the museum opens and you're trying to navigate between throngs of tour groups, it's a bit more difficult to actually see things you're trying to see. They have the museum set up in such a way that it is very difficult to backtrack, though I suppose if you were really determined you might accomplish it.
The most impressive thing about the Vatican Museum is that every single surface in the place is beautiful. No wall, ceiling, or floor is ungilded or unpainted or undecorated. In fact, it can be somewhat overwhelming and I ended up a little bit overstimulated by how much beauty was there. We both really enjoyed the Raphael rooms (Dan especially, since he'd studied so many of the works in his Art History classes - one of the paintings made his jaw drop and he just kind of marveled at it for about 10 minutes) and the Sistine Chapel, which is in some ways amazingly impressive and in other ways hard to be suitably impressed by, since the ceiling is so far from the floor. And it's packed full of people all the time, and the guards and intercom are constantly telling people to be quiet and not take photos, so the atmosphere of reverence they're going for doesn't quite seem to happen.
I would just like to note here that it is totally awesome to travel with someone who enjoys art and is more knowledgable about it than I am. It was like having my very own art tour guide, and I appreciated things a lot more when Dan told me about them.
We sent some postcards from the Vatican Museum, which was fun because Vatican City, being sovereign, has its own postal system and its own stamps. Apparently it also has its own euro coins, but we didn't check to see if we got any of them until it was too late.
After the museum, we wandered over to St. Peter's Basilica. When I was in Rome back in 2000, you could just wander in to the church and go wherever you felt like going within, but now you have to stand in a security line to make sure you aren't bringing in knives, and they have the inside set up so you can only walk around the perimeter. Or maybe that part was just because of when we were there, since they were setting up for the big Epiphany service. The Basilica would be much more impressive from the outside if there wasn't this enormous ugly facade tacked on to the front, and the inside is more a series of monuments to popes than a place of worship (to this non-Catholic, anyhow). But it, too, is adorned with beauty on all surfaces, and they had a mass or two going on while we were inside (sung in Latin, of course). And looking up is quite a celestial experience.
The one thing that really disappointed me about this particular visit to Vatican City was the dearth of nuns. On my previous trip, one of my favorite things about Rome (and the Vatican in particular) was how many different kinds of nuns I saw. This time, there were some nuns, but not nearly the amount or variety I'd been expecting. I guess they all make their pilgrimages in the summer just like everyone else.
After a lunch of uninspiring takeaway pizza (from a place recommended in the book) we walked across the city, up the Spanish Steps, and over and around the back side of the Termini station to a student neighborhood called San Lorenzo. I wanted to see a particular church in a cemetary in this area, but though it was described in detail it wasn't on any of the maps in the book, and then it started to get dark, so we kind of gave up. We had our first gelato of the trip at a chain place called Red Ice (still fantastically yummy, and not that expensive!) while we figured out what to do.
Because here is another downside to traveling in Italy in the winter: it gets dark pretty early, around 4:30 PM. And Rome is very much old-fashioned still when it comes to the hours of shops and restaurants. Pretty much all shops/restaurants/etc. close from about 3 PM to about 7 PM, and in most places it costs money to go into someplace that is open to sit down with your gelato or espresso or whatever. In the summer, this would not be an issue, as it would be lovely to stroll around in a park or something since it would still be light out and warm. In January, it is cold and dark. We thought about waiting around somewhere until we could find an open restaurant for dinner, but I was totally exhausted at that point (still dealing with jet lag) so we took the metro back to Ostia and decided to try to find a place to eat dinner there.
There was no place (we could find) to eat dinner in Ostia Antica. There's a small town with a post office and a butcher shop and a fruit stand and a few other little shops, but noplace we could find that was open and serving food in the evening. So we started to walk back toward our hotel, only we tried to go what we thought was the back way. We ended up on this wild goose chase, spending over an hour trudging through neighborhoods with unpaved streets, dogs barking at us, searching in vain for a place to eat (and then, eventually, for our hotel). Turns out that going the back way was an even worse idea than just walking straight to the hotel from the train station, but eventually we saw the blue neon HOTEL sign through the foggy mist and, completely exhausted beyond measure, we gave up and got horrible pizza and grappa at the hotel bar. Seriously, it was probably the worst pizza I ever ate, and man, we were in ITALY! There was no excuse for how wretched it was. At least it was food.
We landed in Rome after two harrowing plane changes (luckily, we'd carried on all our baggage) and many many hours without sleep. According to our Rough Guide (more on this book later), we had the option of taking a cab or taking an 11euro train ride into the city from the airport. Luckily, we figured out that we could take a less expensive train to a different station and transfer to the metro line we needed to get to our hotel. So we did that instead.
We lucked out on a great hotel deal for Rome - $45 US/night for 5 nights, 3star hotel, which was cheaper than two hostel dorm beds would have been, and we had our own room with bathroom. It was not actually in Rome, but to the southeast of the city in a little town called Ostia Antica. We got to the Ostia metro stop and crossed the highway, to discover that it was a Really Little Town. Luckily, our hotel was on the one main street, so we started walking. And walking. There was no sidewalk for at least half of it, and the cars were going a good 40MPH along the street. We kind of feared for our lives and I had this mental picture of us as turtles on our backs in the middle of this busy road (we each had a larger backpack and smaller daypack, so wore the big one on our back and the small on our front). When we arrived at the hotel and asked if there was a back-road way to walk there from the station, the clerk looked at us in horror and told us to take the bus. Luckily, the bus system and metro system in the general Rome area are linked up, so one ticket is good on either system for 75 minutes. We decided not to try to walk between the hotel and the metro stop again, just because we preferred not to end up being roadkill.
Our hotel room was very nice, and we ended up taking a little nap, which turned into sleeping from 3:30 PM until about 6 the next morning. Ahhhh.
But of course, when we woke up I was starving. We didn't have much food with us, so we headed out for the metro and into Rome. Simon of A Girl and a Boy had loaned us a book full of walking tours of Rome, so we took the metro to Termini station (kind of a central point) and walked to where one of the tours started, grabbing some sandwiches in a little bar along the way. A note on food in Italy: you will see a lot of signs that say Bar. Mostly they sell a variety of things, including premade sandwiches/panini, cigarettes and candy, and booze and coffee. People eat standing up, and the ones that have tables, you have to pay extra in order to sit. Word to the wise.
Anyhow, we spent the first few hours taking one of the walking tours Simon had recommended (down Via Nazionale, around some ruins, up through the out-of-place Vittorio monument and down through the Roman Forum and around the Coliseum). Along the way, we found a grocery store and stopped in to provision ourselves. We found this was an economical way to eat in China, and it proved to be even more economical in Italy, since it was pretty much the only way we could eat three meals a day and not spend a ton of money (even take-away sandwiches and pizza are still 3-4 euro each, which translated to 4.50-6.00 US each - when it's two people, that can add up). So anyhow, the walking tour was really cool as it explained things about the buildings we were passing. Dan really enjoyed the ruins and the forum and walking around the Coliseum, and I really enjoyed getting to see them again, and sharing the experience with him.
For me, the Roman Forum is one of the most interesting things in Rome. It's fully amazing to me that this incredibly old thing, part of an ancient bit of Western Civilization, is just smack dab in the middle of the city of Rome. After more than 2000 years, it's still there - nobody has destroyed it, and thousands of people every year walk through the same pathways that the Roman hoi polloi walked through millenia ago. Nutty.
We decided not to stand in line/pay to tour the inside of the coliseum, but instead to walk around it and peek into the parts on the far side where you don't see many other tourists. Dan told me some interesting historical bits about the coliseum, and then we wandered over to the Arch of Constantine (more historical bits) and then attempted to climb the Palatine hill, where we got stopped in our tracks because we went the wrong way, and then it turned out you had to pay a bunch of money to get in (and it mostly just looked like a nice park) so we opted out.
One of the really cool things about Rome is that despite it being a really big city, most of the stuff you might wish to see as a tourist is within an easily walkable distance. We walked from the Paletine hill up to the Pantheon area and grabbed some take-away pizza (I think the best pizza we had in Rome, since it was hot and fresh from the oven, mmmm!), then went inside the Pantheon and marveled. I also find the Pantheon to be amazingly cool, even without knowing what an architectural feat it was at the time. Dan decided to draw the Pantheon, so we sat there in the afternoon chill while lots of tourists milled around and people trying to sell noisy things to tourists milled around after them.
We wandered by Trevi Fountain (more tourists, mostly Italian) on our way back to Termini station, and we looked for a place to go online to email our families and let them know we weren't dead. It took a while, since it was the 3rd of January and many places were still closed for the holidays, but we found one and then metro'd back to our hotel. We ate dinner in our hotel restaurant - it was decent and not terribly expensive - and then fell asleep pretty early after watching some so-awful-it's-funny Italian television and drinking boxed red wine (we didn't have a corkscrew).
The next day we were up pretty early and in the line for the Vatican Museum before it opened, eating our breakfast while we waited. It wasn't terribly cold (though I'd prepared by wearing warm tights under my pants) and the tourist-pushers were attempting to sell scarves and gloves to those who weren't wearing them. The line moved pretty quickly once the museum opened, and I'm pretty sure most of the people in line were Italian tourists (as all of Italy seems to be on vacation until Epiphany, January 6). If one planned a trip to Rome during high tourist season (read: summer) and one had specific time constraints, it might make sense to join a tour group, as that lets you jump the line. However, it's a really high price (I think I heard 90 euro?), so for people who have more time than money it really doesn't make sense.
The Vatican Museum was one of the things I skipped during my first trip to Rome, reasoning that I'd be back someday - and I was right. In a way, the museum is completely overwhelming, much like the Louvre, but in a way it's not difficult to see only the things you really want to see and go quickly through the things you don't care as much about. However, if you get there when the museum opens and you're trying to navigate between throngs of tour groups, it's a bit more difficult to actually see things you're trying to see. They have the museum set up in such a way that it is very difficult to backtrack, though I suppose if you were really determined you might accomplish it.
The most impressive thing about the Vatican Museum is that every single surface in the place is beautiful. No wall, ceiling, or floor is ungilded or unpainted or undecorated. In fact, it can be somewhat overwhelming and I ended up a little bit overstimulated by how much beauty was there. We both really enjoyed the Raphael rooms (Dan especially, since he'd studied so many of the works in his Art History classes - one of the paintings made his jaw drop and he just kind of marveled at it for about 10 minutes) and the Sistine Chapel, which is in some ways amazingly impressive and in other ways hard to be suitably impressed by, since the ceiling is so far from the floor. And it's packed full of people all the time, and the guards and intercom are constantly telling people to be quiet and not take photos, so the atmosphere of reverence they're going for doesn't quite seem to happen.
I would just like to note here that it is totally awesome to travel with someone who enjoys art and is more knowledgable about it than I am. It was like having my very own art tour guide, and I appreciated things a lot more when Dan told me about them.
We sent some postcards from the Vatican Museum, which was fun because Vatican City, being sovereign, has its own postal system and its own stamps. Apparently it also has its own euro coins, but we didn't check to see if we got any of them until it was too late.
After the museum, we wandered over to St. Peter's Basilica. When I was in Rome back in 2000, you could just wander in to the church and go wherever you felt like going within, but now you have to stand in a security line to make sure you aren't bringing in knives, and they have the inside set up so you can only walk around the perimeter. Or maybe that part was just because of when we were there, since they were setting up for the big Epiphany service. The Basilica would be much more impressive from the outside if there wasn't this enormous ugly facade tacked on to the front, and the inside is more a series of monuments to popes than a place of worship (to this non-Catholic, anyhow). But it, too, is adorned with beauty on all surfaces, and they had a mass or two going on while we were inside (sung in Latin, of course). And looking up is quite a celestial experience.
The one thing that really disappointed me about this particular visit to Vatican City was the dearth of nuns. On my previous trip, one of my favorite things about Rome (and the Vatican in particular) was how many different kinds of nuns I saw. This time, there were some nuns, but not nearly the amount or variety I'd been expecting. I guess they all make their pilgrimages in the summer just like everyone else.
After a lunch of uninspiring takeaway pizza (from a place recommended in the book) we walked across the city, up the Spanish Steps, and over and around the back side of the Termini station to a student neighborhood called San Lorenzo. I wanted to see a particular church in a cemetary in this area, but though it was described in detail it wasn't on any of the maps in the book, and then it started to get dark, so we kind of gave up. We had our first gelato of the trip at a chain place called Red Ice (still fantastically yummy, and not that expensive!) while we figured out what to do.
Because here is another downside to traveling in Italy in the winter: it gets dark pretty early, around 4:30 PM. And Rome is very much old-fashioned still when it comes to the hours of shops and restaurants. Pretty much all shops/restaurants/etc. close from about 3 PM to about 7 PM, and in most places it costs money to go into someplace that is open to sit down with your gelato or espresso or whatever. In the summer, this would not be an issue, as it would be lovely to stroll around in a park or something since it would still be light out and warm. In January, it is cold and dark. We thought about waiting around somewhere until we could find an open restaurant for dinner, but I was totally exhausted at that point (still dealing with jet lag) so we took the metro back to Ostia and decided to try to find a place to eat dinner there.
There was no place (we could find) to eat dinner in Ostia Antica. There's a small town with a post office and a butcher shop and a fruit stand and a few other little shops, but noplace we could find that was open and serving food in the evening. So we started to walk back toward our hotel, only we tried to go what we thought was the back way. We ended up on this wild goose chase, spending over an hour trudging through neighborhoods with unpaved streets, dogs barking at us, searching in vain for a place to eat (and then, eventually, for our hotel). Turns out that going the back way was an even worse idea than just walking straight to the hotel from the train station, but eventually we saw the blue neon HOTEL sign through the foggy mist and, completely exhausted beyond measure, we gave up and got horrible pizza and grappa at the hotel bar. Seriously, it was probably the worst pizza I ever ate, and man, we were in ITALY! There was no excuse for how wretched it was. At least it was food.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Wednesday wedding day: Trying to grok
So, while we were in California we got a bunch of wedding stuff done. We scouted out BevMo for beer/wine; we looked at fabric for dresses; I found makeup that will work (thanks to my sister, makeup maven and she of skin very much like mine); we had our tasting (yum! so excited about the food!); got a quote from the tent rental company; had our engagement photos taken (so excited to see these! I hope we get them soon), and I had my dress fitting.
I could talk for paragraphs about any of the above things. It was kind of amazing what all we did in the few days after Christmas before we headed out for Italy. The thing I was most concerned about was the dress fitting - after all, I ordered it in August and the fitting was in December after Christmas (read: rich food and no exercise for a week), and I won't have another fitting until about 5 days before the wedding.
The dress was too big.
Yes. It has a corset back, and the back was laced up as tight as it would go in order to stay up. Now, I'm pretty sure it fit me (at least, the sample I tried on fit me) back in August. And I can't imagine I was all that much smaller at the fitting. But I was smaller, somehow, and if I get any smaller the dress will have to be taken in a few days before the wedding (and cost boatloads more for alterations. Seriously, the absolute racket that is the wedding dress alteration - my bustle? $5. Extra boning in the seams because of how the dress fits me? $30. A one-inch hem? $120!!! WTF!?!?! I told my mom I could do the hem on her sewing machine, but she insisted on paying for it and said it was one less thing for me to worry about. But $120!?!?!?! It's just a basic hem; there's no lace or beading or asymmetrical lines or anything. Boo.)
The reason I am having a difficult time grokking this is because when I went to the doctor yesterday, they weighed me. I specifically told them that I did not want to know my weight, since the number always always freaks me out, and I specifically never weigh myself because of that - instead, I judge by how my clothes fit. Well, I didn't see the number on the scale, but they had to put it in the computer during my appointment, and it was on the printout they gave me with my prescriptions. Way to go, Kaiser people! Anyhow, it freaked me the hell out, because I weigh about 10 pounds more than I thought I did, and about 20 pounds more than I'd like to weigh. According to most height/weight charts, I'm borderline overweight. Yet my size 8 clothes are fitting fine (some of my jeans are even loose) and my size 10 wedding dress (the wedding dress industry being notorious for sizing their clothing higher than street clothes, seriously I thought I'd be getting a size 12 wedding dress) is too big. If I lose much weight the dress will be falling off and I'll have to have it taken in. Yet the number on the scale, well, let's just say that I can't fathom actually weighing this much.
But I have a (nearly) visible four-pack. The cuts in my arms and legs are pretty impressive. There are only a few spots on my body where I can pinch extra. So WTH, scale? I suppose I could subtract a couple of pounds for my clothes/shoes, but still. I know they say that muscle weighs more than fat, but this is kind of ridiculous. Brain not computing. Weigh lots. Dress too big. If lose weight, dress not fit at all. But - weigh lots! ACK.
OK, so, besides the whole MLE is totally neurotic about her weight/appearance/wedding dress crap, there's more to report on the wedding front. Our invitations got finished and sent out in the mail yesterday - yay! The *kerthump* as I put them all in the blue standing box was satisfying and yet made me feel a little funny, because it's all real now, we're really doing this. We put together our guest list for the rehearsal dinner this weekend. And we've already gotten some "no"s before the invitations even went out from people we'd thought were coming to the wedding :(. On the one hand, I'm very sad about this, because they are people we would both love to have there. On the other hand, we can't control other people's life events or choices, and we hope at least that the people who can't be there will be thinking of us.
Today I stayed home from work to recover a bit from the multiple infections etc., and in between playing on the internets I've been watching some of my christmas presents from my sister (she did an awesome gift for younger sis and I; she found copies of all these movies we watched a lot as kids on DVD and gave them to us for Christmas. So far from the collection I've watched Stand By Me, Adventures in Babysitting, Dirty Dancing and the Muppets Take Manhattan) and working on my big wedding crafty project (one of them, anyhow). I can't wait to take pictures and show you guys. I think it will be awesome. Speaking of taking pictures, I need to get a new digital camera. In a perfect world where we didn't have a wedding to pay for and we had lots of disposable income, I'd get a digital SLR, but that's not going to happen anytime soon. Dan did some research and found a camera that looks great, but I've not done much research yet. Anyone want to recommend a good P&S with at least 5 MP and a shutter that doesn't take forever?
I could talk for paragraphs about any of the above things. It was kind of amazing what all we did in the few days after Christmas before we headed out for Italy. The thing I was most concerned about was the dress fitting - after all, I ordered it in August and the fitting was in December after Christmas (read: rich food and no exercise for a week), and I won't have another fitting until about 5 days before the wedding.
The dress was too big.
Yes. It has a corset back, and the back was laced up as tight as it would go in order to stay up. Now, I'm pretty sure it fit me (at least, the sample I tried on fit me) back in August. And I can't imagine I was all that much smaller at the fitting. But I was smaller, somehow, and if I get any smaller the dress will have to be taken in a few days before the wedding (and cost boatloads more for alterations. Seriously, the absolute racket that is the wedding dress alteration - my bustle? $5. Extra boning in the seams because of how the dress fits me? $30. A one-inch hem? $120!!! WTF!?!?! I told my mom I could do the hem on her sewing machine, but she insisted on paying for it and said it was one less thing for me to worry about. But $120!?!?!?! It's just a basic hem; there's no lace or beading or asymmetrical lines or anything. Boo.)
The reason I am having a difficult time grokking this is because when I went to the doctor yesterday, they weighed me. I specifically told them that I did not want to know my weight, since the number always always freaks me out, and I specifically never weigh myself because of that - instead, I judge by how my clothes fit. Well, I didn't see the number on the scale, but they had to put it in the computer during my appointment, and it was on the printout they gave me with my prescriptions. Way to go, Kaiser people! Anyhow, it freaked me the hell out, because I weigh about 10 pounds more than I thought I did, and about 20 pounds more than I'd like to weigh. According to most height/weight charts, I'm borderline overweight. Yet my size 8 clothes are fitting fine (some of my jeans are even loose) and my size 10 wedding dress (the wedding dress industry being notorious for sizing their clothing higher than street clothes, seriously I thought I'd be getting a size 12 wedding dress) is too big. If I lose much weight the dress will be falling off and I'll have to have it taken in. Yet the number on the scale, well, let's just say that I can't fathom actually weighing this much.
But I have a (nearly) visible four-pack. The cuts in my arms and legs are pretty impressive. There are only a few spots on my body where I can pinch extra. So WTH, scale? I suppose I could subtract a couple of pounds for my clothes/shoes, but still. I know they say that muscle weighs more than fat, but this is kind of ridiculous. Brain not computing. Weigh lots. Dress too big. If lose weight, dress not fit at all. But - weigh lots! ACK.
OK, so, besides the whole MLE is totally neurotic about her weight/appearance/wedding dress crap, there's more to report on the wedding front. Our invitations got finished and sent out in the mail yesterday - yay! The *kerthump* as I put them all in the blue standing box was satisfying and yet made me feel a little funny, because it's all real now, we're really doing this. We put together our guest list for the rehearsal dinner this weekend. And we've already gotten some "no"s before the invitations even went out from people we'd thought were coming to the wedding :(. On the one hand, I'm very sad about this, because they are people we would both love to have there. On the other hand, we can't control other people's life events or choices, and we hope at least that the people who can't be there will be thinking of us.
Today I stayed home from work to recover a bit from the multiple infections etc., and in between playing on the internets I've been watching some of my christmas presents from my sister (she did an awesome gift for younger sis and I; she found copies of all these movies we watched a lot as kids on DVD and gave them to us for Christmas. So far from the collection I've watched Stand By Me, Adventures in Babysitting, Dirty Dancing and the Muppets Take Manhattan) and working on my big wedding crafty project (one of them, anyhow). I can't wait to take pictures and show you guys. I think it will be awesome. Speaking of taking pictures, I need to get a new digital camera. In a perfect world where we didn't have a wedding to pay for and we had lots of disposable income, I'd get a digital SLR, but that's not going to happen anytime soon. Dan did some research and found a camera that looks great, but I've not done much research yet. Anyone want to recommend a good P&S with at least 5 MP and a shutter that doesn't take forever?
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Guess what I've won?
Yes. I have not yet told you all the cool things about Italy (or California, for that matter). I have started umpteen blog posts in my head, but I do have a good excuse.
Remember how I mentioned that both Dan and I got sick in Italy? I'm still sick. Really, miserably, disgustingly sick. So sick that a 3-day weekend plus Friday as a sick day did very little to make me feel better (Me sitting around doing nothing for four days generally equals cabin fever, but I seriously had no energy for anything. Sorry your visit with your family was overshadowed by me being sick, Holla.) Anyhow, since yesterday was a holiday I couldn't call to make an appointment with Kaiser until this morning, which I did (yes, I went to work today. I've not been here in a month, except for Thursday, when I tried to go to the gym, did 30 minutes of pilates and about coughed out a lung, so gave up on that whole trying to work out thing). At my appointment, the doctor looked in my ears and nose, listened to my chest and listened to the laundry list of symptoms. I mean, I've had sinus pain in my teeth and jaw for the past week - that's how bad it is. And I haven't been able to hear well out of either ear.
Diagnoses? (Yes, multiple.) A sinus infection, two ear infections (one in each ear), and a perforated eardrum that has stuff draining out of it. I suspected as much, and for my good guess I get to take 3 horse pills twice a day for two weeks. I guess we'd better go to the store and stock up on yogurt.
Remember how I mentioned that both Dan and I got sick in Italy? I'm still sick. Really, miserably, disgustingly sick. So sick that a 3-day weekend plus Friday as a sick day did very little to make me feel better (Me sitting around doing nothing for four days generally equals cabin fever, but I seriously had no energy for anything. Sorry your visit with your family was overshadowed by me being sick, Holla.) Anyhow, since yesterday was a holiday I couldn't call to make an appointment with Kaiser until this morning, which I did (yes, I went to work today. I've not been here in a month, except for Thursday, when I tried to go to the gym, did 30 minutes of pilates and about coughed out a lung, so gave up on that whole trying to work out thing). At my appointment, the doctor looked in my ears and nose, listened to my chest and listened to the laundry list of symptoms. I mean, I've had sinus pain in my teeth and jaw for the past week - that's how bad it is. And I haven't been able to hear well out of either ear.
Diagnoses? (Yes, multiple.) A sinus infection, two ear infections (one in each ear), and a perforated eardrum that has stuff draining out of it. I suspected as much, and for my good guess I get to take 3 horse pills twice a day for two weeks. I guess we'd better go to the store and stock up on yogurt.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
No Foto
We're back in the Bay Area after one two-hour flight and one eleven-hour flight. And a solid 7 hours of sleep in QIR's bed (thanks for the bed, darlin!)
So, yes, we went to Italy and I will have many stories to tell. However, I will have no photos to show you. I lost my camera on a train between Siena and Empoli, and unfortunately neither the kind folks at the Florence train station lost and found nor the ones at the Pisa lost and found were able to give me good news, that someone had turned my camera in. So I have no photos from the trip. Dan took about eight with his film SLR, but he doesn't know if they'll even turn out because it turned out the film he bought was expired. So we'll see.
I would have rather lost anything else I had with me, including my passport and my new ipod, than my camera. But it was the camera, a gift Dan gave me for Christmas a few years ago, a gift that made me cry at the time and that I've used all the time since, that is gone. No foto*.
Also, we were both sick (he, the entire time, me, for about half the time). Also, it rained nearly every day. And Dan fell down some stairs.
But we still had a good time, for the most part, despite all the problems. I will be writing about the trip in detail, probably, but the hundreds of pictures I had to play around with and share with the internets are lost and gone forever, and I'll have to rely on my power of descriptive language rather than be able to show you all the awesome things we saw.
Hello again, internets, I've missed you.
* in reference to many sights we saw, including Michelangelo's David, where you weren't allowed to take pictures (even though last time I was in Italy, it was just "no flash". Guess it's really important that they sell a lot of postcards.
So, yes, we went to Italy and I will have many stories to tell. However, I will have no photos to show you. I lost my camera on a train between Siena and Empoli, and unfortunately neither the kind folks at the Florence train station lost and found nor the ones at the Pisa lost and found were able to give me good news, that someone had turned my camera in. So I have no photos from the trip. Dan took about eight with his film SLR, but he doesn't know if they'll even turn out because it turned out the film he bought was expired. So we'll see.
I would have rather lost anything else I had with me, including my passport and my new ipod, than my camera. But it was the camera, a gift Dan gave me for Christmas a few years ago, a gift that made me cry at the time and that I've used all the time since, that is gone. No foto*.
Also, we were both sick (he, the entire time, me, for about half the time). Also, it rained nearly every day. And Dan fell down some stairs.
But we still had a good time, for the most part, despite all the problems. I will be writing about the trip in detail, probably, but the hundreds of pictures I had to play around with and share with the internets are lost and gone forever, and I'll have to rely on my power of descriptive language rather than be able to show you all the awesome things we saw.
Hello again, internets, I've missed you.
* in reference to many sights we saw, including Michelangelo's David, where you weren't allowed to take pictures (even though last time I was in Italy, it was just "no flash". Guess it's really important that they sell a lot of postcards.
Monday, December 31, 2007
It's the end of the year as we know it and I feel fine
Wow - it's been a long time since I wrote anything. Um, hi? Hey, it's the end of 2007! Woohoo! 2007 has been a fantastic year for us - we got engaged, I bought a car, we went on some road trips, we planned a wedding (mostly), and we're spending the last few hours of 2007 organizing our stuff for the trip to Italy. Which starts tomorrow! Hooray!
Christmas was interesting, and we spent this past weekend with Leah and Simon (thanks again for the wonderful hospitality, guys!) We've hung out with QIR, Guatemalaholla and the lovely Katherine, and had dinner with Sara and Ron. I tried on my dress, we checked off everything on the "must do" wedding list, and we had our engagement photos taken (luckily, I asked my younger sister about the makeup issue and she had some excellent suggestions, which I took, and they worked out very well. More about that another time.) Dan gave me an ipod nano for Christmas which I am very excited about using on the aeroplane tomorrow. Mostly I am really excited that we get to spend two weeks in Italy eating yummy food and walking all the time, and when I come back I'll have a good 9 weeks of gymming before I have to fit into my dress again. And then - we get married! For those of you who care about such things, it's t-minus 3 months and counting. We hope to have invitations out within a week after we get back. But you know, I'm just not going to stress about wedding stuff while we're in Italy, because I'd much rather focus on having a great time. Thanks to a lucky connection, we're spending our last night in Rome (before we fly home) staying in a super-fancy hotel and we're paying about a 5th of what the room would normally cost.
I'm going to try to blog once or twice while we're gone, but no promises. There will be plenty of stories and photos to come, however.
Happy 2008, everybody!
Christmas was interesting, and we spent this past weekend with Leah and Simon (thanks again for the wonderful hospitality, guys!) We've hung out with QIR, Guatemalaholla and the lovely Katherine, and had dinner with Sara and Ron. I tried on my dress, we checked off everything on the "must do" wedding list, and we had our engagement photos taken (luckily, I asked my younger sister about the makeup issue and she had some excellent suggestions, which I took, and they worked out very well. More about that another time.) Dan gave me an ipod nano for Christmas which I am very excited about using on the aeroplane tomorrow. Mostly I am really excited that we get to spend two weeks in Italy eating yummy food and walking all the time, and when I come back I'll have a good 9 weeks of gymming before I have to fit into my dress again. And then - we get married! For those of you who care about such things, it's t-minus 3 months and counting. We hope to have invitations out within a week after we get back. But you know, I'm just not going to stress about wedding stuff while we're in Italy, because I'd much rather focus on having a great time. Thanks to a lucky connection, we're spending our last night in Rome (before we fly home) staying in a super-fancy hotel and we're paying about a 5th of what the room would normally cost.
I'm going to try to blog once or twice while we're gone, but no promises. There will be plenty of stories and photos to come, however.
Happy 2008, everybody!
Friday, December 21, 2007
Someone else's lips
We made it to California yesterday after a VERY early flight (and no sleep Wednesday night due to Upstairs deciding to have a screaming, beating each other fight at 2 AM). Most of the day was spent tooling around the East Bay with QIR. We went to Costco and IKEA and the fabric store (no luck yet) and Trader Joe's and a variety of other places, but didn't have much success finding the gifts or other things we need. So today Dan and I BARTed over to the city to try our luck on the shortest day of the year.
I'm still looking for some pants to bring to Italy that are not jeans. They'd preferably be some sort of cargo pants, maybe olive green or a brown, with material that is comfortable and not too thin (gotta stay warm). The China pants were perfect (green cargo pants) and I am still bemoaning their demise. Today I tried Ross, Marshalls, Old Navy, H&M, and had absolutely no luck. Dan found a great thin weather-resistant jacket and some chinos, so he's happy, but I still don't have any damn pants. We were also shopping for other people and had no luck finding a particular gift that a particular relative of mine wanted after trying many many stores. Eventually I gave in and went to a Very Expensive Store to buy the exact product (rather than going with something similar and less expensive). Oh, well.
We also went to the big fancy fabric store in SF called Britex looking for bmaid dress fabric, and after searching all 3 floors of amazing textiles we found the perfect fabric - for only $35/yard. Ugh. I'm going to bring my sisters in there when we come down to the city on Sunday to do Extended Family Giftmas to see what they think.
One store I'd wanted to go into for a while but had been a little afraid of was Sephora. I haven't regularly worn makeup since high school, and I have absolutely no idea how to go about doing foundation or concealer or whatever needs doing to make my skin look all nice in photographs/for wedding. I was told to go into Sephora, explain my issues, and ask for some assistance. So I finally went in there and tried it. The first person who was helping me directed me to a particular line and then sat me down on a stool to put some on my face (to see what I thought). I want to look like me in my pictures, not like I'm wearing a mask, but I'd also like my skin to look nice. The girl seemed like she knew what she was talking about, and I thought the stuff she put on me was OK. Then she got called away to another part of the store and told this makeup artist guy to come over and finish the consultation.
Of course, as soon as I said the word "wedding" and "photos" this guy got a malicious half smile and wiped off the stuff the first girl had put on me, then ran all over the store grabbing products and smearing them on my skin. He was just as frustrated as I've been with the weird dry patches on either side of my mouth (they've been there for a few months and I can't figure out how to make them stop peeling). He suggested a variety of product options (many of which I've already tried) and finally asked if I'd tried Crisco. Or butter. Um, no.
He plastered and applied and troweled, telling me to pay someone to fix my eyebrows and only managed to poke me in the eye once. There were products and products and maybe some more products, eye shadows and liners and mascaras and then he started in on my lips, drawing waaaaay outside my lipline and then drawing some more, filling in with some kind of sticky goo that smelled like banana (bleah). When he was finally finished, the malicious half smile had turned into a malicious full smile, and I looked in the mirror to see someone who was not me.
The worst part was definitely the lips. Not only were they not actually my lips, the color he had used (some sort of weird nude tone) made them look like a butthole - you know, that old-school look with the liner darker than the inside. I called Dan and told him to meet me at the Shoe Pavilion, warning him that I didn't look like myself. When he saw me, he looked a little startled. Hell, when *I* saw me, I looked a little startled. I didn't look like me. I didn't even look pretty. I mostly looked like a drag queen with someone else's lips. We walked to Chinatown to eat lunch and on the way I stopped in to a $tarbucks and spent a few minutes washing my face off with paper towels and water (sadly, there was no soap). I considered asking Dan to take a photo of me in all my bizarre glory but ultimately decided that nobody needed to see me looking like that. I left the mascara alone, since I didn't need it running all over the place, but I managed to get most of the other products off my eyes and face and put my lips back to (mostly) normal. When I walked out, I mostly looked like me wearing mascara, which is far better than the look I had when I left Sephora. I guess I'll figure out the foundation thing on my own and there's no way in hell I'm drawing on new lips when I do wedding makeup.
I'm still looking for some pants to bring to Italy that are not jeans. They'd preferably be some sort of cargo pants, maybe olive green or a brown, with material that is comfortable and not too thin (gotta stay warm). The China pants were perfect (green cargo pants) and I am still bemoaning their demise. Today I tried Ross, Marshalls, Old Navy, H&M, and had absolutely no luck. Dan found a great thin weather-resistant jacket and some chinos, so he's happy, but I still don't have any damn pants. We were also shopping for other people and had no luck finding a particular gift that a particular relative of mine wanted after trying many many stores. Eventually I gave in and went to a Very Expensive Store to buy the exact product (rather than going with something similar and less expensive). Oh, well.
We also went to the big fancy fabric store in SF called Britex looking for bmaid dress fabric, and after searching all 3 floors of amazing textiles we found the perfect fabric - for only $35/yard. Ugh. I'm going to bring my sisters in there when we come down to the city on Sunday to do Extended Family Giftmas to see what they think.
One store I'd wanted to go into for a while but had been a little afraid of was Sephora. I haven't regularly worn makeup since high school, and I have absolutely no idea how to go about doing foundation or concealer or whatever needs doing to make my skin look all nice in photographs/for wedding. I was told to go into Sephora, explain my issues, and ask for some assistance. So I finally went in there and tried it. The first person who was helping me directed me to a particular line and then sat me down on a stool to put some on my face (to see what I thought). I want to look like me in my pictures, not like I'm wearing a mask, but I'd also like my skin to look nice. The girl seemed like she knew what she was talking about, and I thought the stuff she put on me was OK. Then she got called away to another part of the store and told this makeup artist guy to come over and finish the consultation.
Of course, as soon as I said the word "wedding" and "photos" this guy got a malicious half smile and wiped off the stuff the first girl had put on me, then ran all over the store grabbing products and smearing them on my skin. He was just as frustrated as I've been with the weird dry patches on either side of my mouth (they've been there for a few months and I can't figure out how to make them stop peeling). He suggested a variety of product options (many of which I've already tried) and finally asked if I'd tried Crisco. Or butter. Um, no.
He plastered and applied and troweled, telling me to pay someone to fix my eyebrows and only managed to poke me in the eye once. There were products and products and maybe some more products, eye shadows and liners and mascaras and then he started in on my lips, drawing waaaaay outside my lipline and then drawing some more, filling in with some kind of sticky goo that smelled like banana (bleah). When he was finally finished, the malicious half smile had turned into a malicious full smile, and I looked in the mirror to see someone who was not me.
The worst part was definitely the lips. Not only were they not actually my lips, the color he had used (some sort of weird nude tone) made them look like a butthole - you know, that old-school look with the liner darker than the inside. I called Dan and told him to meet me at the Shoe Pavilion, warning him that I didn't look like myself. When he saw me, he looked a little startled. Hell, when *I* saw me, I looked a little startled. I didn't look like me. I didn't even look pretty. I mostly looked like a drag queen with someone else's lips. We walked to Chinatown to eat lunch and on the way I stopped in to a $tarbucks and spent a few minutes washing my face off with paper towels and water (sadly, there was no soap). I considered asking Dan to take a photo of me in all my bizarre glory but ultimately decided that nobody needed to see me looking like that. I left the mascara alone, since I didn't need it running all over the place, but I managed to get most of the other products off my eyes and face and put my lips back to (mostly) normal. When I walked out, I mostly looked like me wearing mascara, which is far better than the look I had when I left Sephora. I guess I'll figure out the foundation thing on my own and there's no way in hell I'm drawing on new lips when I do wedding makeup.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Wednesday Wedding Day: The saga of the bridesmaids' dresses
When we first got engaged, I didn't give any thought to possible attire for attendants. There were way too many other things to think about. However, my Oldest Friend (and Maid of Honor) started sending me links to bridesmaid dresses, so that made me think about what I might want the women who are doing me the honor of standing up with me to gird their loins with on the day of our nuptuals.
Honestly, I really don't care all that much. I'd like them to be comfortable, and to be able to wear whatever it is again. At first I was very hands-off about it, telling them that I didn't care At All what they wore. Then, Dan figured out what his attendants will be wearing - and while they won't all be wearing the same thing, they will match thematically and somewhat color-wise. I began to realize it might look a little strange to have the groomspeople coordinated and nice-looking and the bridesmaids haphazard. So I asked them, what did they want to wear? We tossed around the idea of staying with one color and doing variations of dress (top/skirt? dress? pants?). Or maybe everyone wearing a different color in the same sort of outfit. Or maybe everyone wear whatever they want, but I get/make them matching shawls. Or - I don't know. It seems silly to me for them to buy a dress they'll never wear again (though I know this is seen as common in this country) or for me to buy them a dress they'll never wear again.
Then, on the alternative wedding planning message board I haunt, I found a link to a company that makes these bridesmaid dresses that are totally customizable and wearable in a ton of different ways. For $300 apiece. Next to it was a link to a crafty message board, with over 100 pages of photos and stories people had written about their experience making, essentially, an identical dress. There was also a link to someone's blog, who had come up with the pattern and made the dress first - the other hundreds of people just followed her lead. And amazingly enough, it seemed pretty simple, for a dress that could be worn in a variety of ways, and such an easy pattern that it seemed anyone could make it.
I've made clothing before, particularly quite a few costumes. I've altered a lot of things as well. I have a sewing machine, and a decent working knowledge of sewing. So hey, maybe I could make these dresses for my bridesminions! It didn't seem terribly difficult, and looked like a dress that all of them would look good wearing, with about a million different ways it could be worn. After emailing them with the links and the explanation, they all seemed to be on board with the idea. The one caveat that I set was that I had to make the dress first, to see how doable the whole plan was, before we really decided that this was the way to go.
The day came on Sunday afternoon. I had several yards of (nonstretchy) fabric I'd bought to make a Ren Faire costume years earlier and never made. I had a sewing machine. I had scissors. I spent hours pouring through all 104 pages of examples and tips and troubleshooting and alterations for this simple dress pattern, a little apprehensive about measuring and cutting my fabric, unsure whether I could make it work. But eventually I got up the nerve to measure and cut, to make some changes due to the unstretchy fabric, to pin and eventually to thread my machine and sew. It's a one-seam dress (if you have the kind of fabric you don't need to hem) - I needed three, despite not hemming, because I cut a couple of parts wrong. Luckily, this was just for practice.
45 minutes after I began, I sat up and took the pins out of the dress. It was done. I tried it on. I tied it one way, and then another. It worked! Even with nonstretchy fabric, the dress worked, and now I have a summery dress to wear (after I hem it, of course), and I'm fully confident that I can get the pattern to work for all four of my henchmaids (even the one with boobs - luckily, lots of busty/curvy women had made the dress and given suggestions for alterations). Hell, if we can agree on some fabric (and I don't care if they all wear the same color as long as they're in the same color group), I can make all the dresses while we're in California, and they'll be there waiting until the end of March. The Oldest Friend/MOH won't be around, but the best part is that we're essentially the same size/height, so if it will fit me it will fit her. QIR and I are going fabric shopping while we're out there, possibly tomorrow, and the dresses may all be done by Christmas.
Woohoo!
Honestly, I really don't care all that much. I'd like them to be comfortable, and to be able to wear whatever it is again. At first I was very hands-off about it, telling them that I didn't care At All what they wore. Then, Dan figured out what his attendants will be wearing - and while they won't all be wearing the same thing, they will match thematically and somewhat color-wise. I began to realize it might look a little strange to have the groomspeople coordinated and nice-looking and the bridesmaids haphazard. So I asked them, what did they want to wear? We tossed around the idea of staying with one color and doing variations of dress (top/skirt? dress? pants?). Or maybe everyone wearing a different color in the same sort of outfit. Or maybe everyone wear whatever they want, but I get/make them matching shawls. Or - I don't know. It seems silly to me for them to buy a dress they'll never wear again (though I know this is seen as common in this country) or for me to buy them a dress they'll never wear again.
Then, on the alternative wedding planning message board I haunt, I found a link to a company that makes these bridesmaid dresses that are totally customizable and wearable in a ton of different ways. For $300 apiece. Next to it was a link to a crafty message board, with over 100 pages of photos and stories people had written about their experience making, essentially, an identical dress. There was also a link to someone's blog, who had come up with the pattern and made the dress first - the other hundreds of people just followed her lead. And amazingly enough, it seemed pretty simple, for a dress that could be worn in a variety of ways, and such an easy pattern that it seemed anyone could make it.
I've made clothing before, particularly quite a few costumes. I've altered a lot of things as well. I have a sewing machine, and a decent working knowledge of sewing. So hey, maybe I could make these dresses for my bridesminions! It didn't seem terribly difficult, and looked like a dress that all of them would look good wearing, with about a million different ways it could be worn. After emailing them with the links and the explanation, they all seemed to be on board with the idea. The one caveat that I set was that I had to make the dress first, to see how doable the whole plan was, before we really decided that this was the way to go.
The day came on Sunday afternoon. I had several yards of (nonstretchy) fabric I'd bought to make a Ren Faire costume years earlier and never made. I had a sewing machine. I had scissors. I spent hours pouring through all 104 pages of examples and tips and troubleshooting and alterations for this simple dress pattern, a little apprehensive about measuring and cutting my fabric, unsure whether I could make it work. But eventually I got up the nerve to measure and cut, to make some changes due to the unstretchy fabric, to pin and eventually to thread my machine and sew. It's a one-seam dress (if you have the kind of fabric you don't need to hem) - I needed three, despite not hemming, because I cut a couple of parts wrong. Luckily, this was just for practice.
45 minutes after I began, I sat up and took the pins out of the dress. It was done. I tried it on. I tied it one way, and then another. It worked! Even with nonstretchy fabric, the dress worked, and now I have a summery dress to wear (after I hem it, of course), and I'm fully confident that I can get the pattern to work for all four of my henchmaids (even the one with boobs - luckily, lots of busty/curvy women had made the dress and given suggestions for alterations). Hell, if we can agree on some fabric (and I don't care if they all wear the same color as long as they're in the same color group), I can make all the dresses while we're in California, and they'll be there waiting until the end of March. The Oldest Friend/MOH won't be around, but the best part is that we're essentially the same size/height, so if it will fit me it will fit her. QIR and I are going fabric shopping while we're out there, possibly tomorrow, and the dresses may all be done by Christmas.
Woohoo!
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Sometimes the dinosaur eats the house
Earlier this morning I stood outside, watching a dinosaur devour an old house. Crunch, crunch went the enormous jaw, as the dinosaur climbed up onto the pile of old bones and guts to reach for more house. It was at once comical and disturbing, to see the insides of a house as the dinosaur cocked its head and took enormous bites out of windows and chimneys. The house was naked, exposed, its secret insides put on display for all the world to see. The hungry dinosaur roared a mighty diesel-fueled roar, its metal neck clanking and hissing, as it took bite after bite of history and digested it into rubble.
Today marked the beginning of the end for a historic Denver house. Once a stately mansion on a street lined with stately mansions, the Woodward House was the last such structure on the block. Now surrounded by office buildings and apartments, the house was deemed too expensive to renovate, and, being state property, finally got the axe earlier this month. As I understand it, the place was filled with asbestos and no takers were found when the offer was put forth to have an independent person pay for renovations in exchange for a lifetime lease.
The house sat empty since state employees stopped using it as office space sometime in the '70s, and weather, vagrants, and animals all contributed to its delapidation. It was the last reminder that once upon a time, this part of town was where the millionaires lived. You can read more about the house here, which I found to be an interesting history.
I gotta say, it was simultaneously gut-wrenching and fascinating to watch this piece of Denver history be reduced to bits of old wood and brick, and while I watched I imagined who once lived in the house, who stoked fires in the fireplaces, who had babies or got sick and died in the bedrooms. Every old house tells a story. This house was no different. It continues to tell a story of violence and loss, of reducing something once great into worthless junk, of the importance of preserving pieces of the past so we remember how time changes all things. In a few months, where the Woodward House stood will be a parking lot.
Today marked the beginning of the end for a historic Denver house. Once a stately mansion on a street lined with stately mansions, the Woodward House was the last such structure on the block. Now surrounded by office buildings and apartments, the house was deemed too expensive to renovate, and, being state property, finally got the axe earlier this month. As I understand it, the place was filled with asbestos and no takers were found when the offer was put forth to have an independent person pay for renovations in exchange for a lifetime lease.
The house sat empty since state employees stopped using it as office space sometime in the '70s, and weather, vagrants, and animals all contributed to its delapidation. It was the last reminder that once upon a time, this part of town was where the millionaires lived. You can read more about the house here, which I found to be an interesting history.
I gotta say, it was simultaneously gut-wrenching and fascinating to watch this piece of Denver history be reduced to bits of old wood and brick, and while I watched I imagined who once lived in the house, who stoked fires in the fireplaces, who had babies or got sick and died in the bedrooms. Every old house tells a story. This house was no different. It continues to tell a story of violence and loss, of reducing something once great into worthless junk, of the importance of preserving pieces of the past so we remember how time changes all things. In a few months, where the Woodward House stood will be a parking lot.
Monday, December 17, 2007
I tell you one thing, you wouldn't catch me playing Clara.
I guess if one were to look at our weekend objectively, in terms of what was accomplished and what triumphs were celebrated, one might deem it successful. We finished the errands that needed finishing (though some were less fruitful than others - no pants yet, and the yarn I needed to finish a gift was discontinued in May so I had to find a replacement which, unfortunately, paled in comparison). The kids from the angel tree we picked out will be getting some good presents. We had a nice brunch with Dan's family and did a small gift exchange. I finished a good number of giftmas presents and will easily finish the remainder in time. Dan finished step one (which was the big, long, time-consuming step) of the invitations. We got a few more addresses confirmed, the laundry's almost finished, and each of the kitties got quite a bit of attention.
Yet I feel that there was so much more that needed doing, so much more we could have done, so many things that just Have To Get Finished before we leave on Thursday. I could have foregone the procrastination part of the Bridesmaid's Dress Experiment (more on that later) and instead just jumped right in, damn the torpedoes. I could have been knitting in the car. I could have started packing instead of taking a break from knitting to play on the internets last night. But sometimes people need breaks, right? Everything will get done, at least everything that's really important. I hope.
I'm not used to having three separate major events competing for space and time in my brain. Wedding, Christmas, Italy. Wedding, Christmas, Italy. One thing I'd considered was packing for Italy in a separate bag, bringing it to California and just not touching it until we got on the plane for Rome - essentially bringing everything for California in one bag and for Italy in another. I haven't decided yet whether or not I'm going to do this. Operation Pack for Two Trips starts tonight. I'm actually kind of glad we decided not to buy presents for people until we get to California, so we have that much less to deal with in terms of schlepping it on planes and making sure we have things in time. And something I'm super excited about is that we have tickets to see Mark Morris's The Hard Nut on Thursday evening - a production I haven't seen since I moved to Colorado, and one I've been talking up for years, so Dan's excited about it too. We listened to the Nutcracker Suite in the car on the way to Dan's parents' house and I challenged myself to remember which dance went with which piece of music - I remembered most of them.
I never had the chance to dance in a production of the Nutcracker; the studio where I took classes didn't perform it until after I left (my sister was in it, though). They had to wait until they had a boy old/strong enough to play the role of the prince. If I had been in it, though, I probably would have wanted to play the role of the Snow Queen. She is so much more awesome than the Sugar Plum Fairy, and I don't think I have the comedic chops to play the Rat King. But then again, white leotard/tutu is far less figure-forgiving than other costume possibilities. Maybe I'd play the sugar plum fairy after all.
Yet I feel that there was so much more that needed doing, so much more we could have done, so many things that just Have To Get Finished before we leave on Thursday. I could have foregone the procrastination part of the Bridesmaid's Dress Experiment (more on that later) and instead just jumped right in, damn the torpedoes. I could have been knitting in the car. I could have started packing instead of taking a break from knitting to play on the internets last night. But sometimes people need breaks, right? Everything will get done, at least everything that's really important. I hope.
I'm not used to having three separate major events competing for space and time in my brain. Wedding, Christmas, Italy. Wedding, Christmas, Italy. One thing I'd considered was packing for Italy in a separate bag, bringing it to California and just not touching it until we got on the plane for Rome - essentially bringing everything for California in one bag and for Italy in another. I haven't decided yet whether or not I'm going to do this. Operation Pack for Two Trips starts tonight. I'm actually kind of glad we decided not to buy presents for people until we get to California, so we have that much less to deal with in terms of schlepping it on planes and making sure we have things in time. And something I'm super excited about is that we have tickets to see Mark Morris's The Hard Nut on Thursday evening - a production I haven't seen since I moved to Colorado, and one I've been talking up for years, so Dan's excited about it too. We listened to the Nutcracker Suite in the car on the way to Dan's parents' house and I challenged myself to remember which dance went with which piece of music - I remembered most of them.
I never had the chance to dance in a production of the Nutcracker; the studio where I took classes didn't perform it until after I left (my sister was in it, though). They had to wait until they had a boy old/strong enough to play the role of the prince. If I had been in it, though, I probably would have wanted to play the role of the Snow Queen. She is so much more awesome than the Sugar Plum Fairy, and I don't think I have the comedic chops to play the Rat King. But then again, white leotard/tutu is far less figure-forgiving than other costume possibilities. Maybe I'd play the sugar plum fairy after all.
Friday, December 14, 2007
It's Friday again, so I'm going to write about working out
Monday: zumba/cardio kickboxing 60 minutes, power pump 60 minutes
Tuesday: 35 minutes elliptical 15 minutes crunches/leg lifts
Wednesday: 60 minutes yoga
Thursday: 60 minutes pilates plus
Friday: 30 minutes hardcore elliptical
I'm still reeling a bit from the fall last Friday. The nasty bruise on my leg is about two inches in diameter and still sticks up a good centimeter or two from the rest of my calf. My neck still hurts, both shoulders are feeling wrenched, and my butt was too sore yesterday to sit on the bike seat for my spin class, so I didn't take it. That put me a little below goal for hours spent in the gym this week, and on top of that a last-minute meeting requiring mandatory attendence kept me from the class I was going to take today, so instead after the meeting was over at 2 PM I rushed into the gym, worked out like crazy for 30 minutes, and rushed back to work in order to eat lunch before Unfed MLE overtook me completely. Hey, 30 minutes is better than nothing, right?
The Wednesday yoga class (new class of the week!) was supposedly vinyasa, though we did some crazy binding poses and held them for a long time, so there was very little flow about the whole thing. I'm going to start taking vinyasa classes from the guy who I know does good yoga classes, and it's really flow from one asana to the next.
Despite my paltry 5.5 hours in the gym this week, I suddenly seem to have discovered my abdominal muscles again when I look in the mirror. And there's a line, as Dan pointed out to me. I'm starting to feel pretty good about how I look, both in clothes and out of them, and optimistic that I'll be able to keep it up until March. My goal at this point is just to not gain any weight (and if I manage it, it will be the first winter in memory that I haven't) and have the dress fit perfectly (or, if anything, be a little loose) come wedding time. The only exercise I'll be getting for about four weeks will be walking (in Italy, in California) and running (if the weather's not too bad when we're in California), and I'm sure as hell not going to Italy and avoiding anything that looks yummy. Because what would be the point? Luckily, I'll still have 10 weeks after we get back to continue Operation Look Good in Dress.
Tuesday: 35 minutes elliptical 15 minutes crunches/leg lifts
Wednesday: 60 minutes yoga
Thursday: 60 minutes pilates plus
Friday: 30 minutes hardcore elliptical
I'm still reeling a bit from the fall last Friday. The nasty bruise on my leg is about two inches in diameter and still sticks up a good centimeter or two from the rest of my calf. My neck still hurts, both shoulders are feeling wrenched, and my butt was too sore yesterday to sit on the bike seat for my spin class, so I didn't take it. That put me a little below goal for hours spent in the gym this week, and on top of that a last-minute meeting requiring mandatory attendence kept me from the class I was going to take today, so instead after the meeting was over at 2 PM I rushed into the gym, worked out like crazy for 30 minutes, and rushed back to work in order to eat lunch before Unfed MLE overtook me completely. Hey, 30 minutes is better than nothing, right?
The Wednesday yoga class (new class of the week!) was supposedly vinyasa, though we did some crazy binding poses and held them for a long time, so there was very little flow about the whole thing. I'm going to start taking vinyasa classes from the guy who I know does good yoga classes, and it's really flow from one asana to the next.
Despite my paltry 5.5 hours in the gym this week, I suddenly seem to have discovered my abdominal muscles again when I look in the mirror. And there's a line, as Dan pointed out to me. I'm starting to feel pretty good about how I look, both in clothes and out of them, and optimistic that I'll be able to keep it up until March. My goal at this point is just to not gain any weight (and if I manage it, it will be the first winter in memory that I haven't) and have the dress fit perfectly (or, if anything, be a little loose) come wedding time. The only exercise I'll be getting for about four weeks will be walking (in Italy, in California) and running (if the weather's not too bad when we're in California), and I'm sure as hell not going to Italy and avoiding anything that looks yummy. Because what would be the point? Luckily, I'll still have 10 weeks after we get back to continue Operation Look Good in Dress.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
An open letter to me, circa early 1996
Dear 17-year-old MLE,
Hi! It's me, and it's now 2007. Honey, there is so much I could tell you about what cool things you're going to do and where you'll go and who you'll meet, but you'll just have to wait and see.
First of all, it gets So Much Better in college. Yes, really. You are really going to enjoy living in Berkeley. You'll get to eat all kinds of things you've never tried, and you'll even learn to like vegetables. And you'll never have to eat a hamburger again. You are also going to let things like alcohol pass your lips. I know, it's shocking, but true.
That guy you have a crush on, the one you haven't really even admitted to yourself? Yes, you're going to date him in college, and though you'll spend the first six months of the relationship completely insecure and convinced that his other high school friends are going to tell him to dump you, eventually you will become friends with them too and you'll all look back on it and laugh. It won't be the best relationship you'll ever have, but it's important because it will help you learn how to be with someone, long-term.
You may not realize it, but all those clothes that your mom saved from college are going to be in fashion in a few years, long after you wore them in high school. You'll look like a trendsetter, eventually.
Mom is right about a lot more things than you're willing to give her credit for. Including your eyebrows. You will feel so much better about yourself once you stop wearing so much makeup and start maintaining those caterpillars on your face. It's something you'll have to do every day, but you will feel so much prettier. Flirt! Flirt with all those guys in college. It's OK to flirt even when you're in a relationship. And definitely OK once you aren't anymore.
Yes, the acne goes away. Eventually. No, I won't tell you how long, but it takes longer than you'd like.
You are amazingly strong in so many ways, far more than you realize. You will have to quit ballet next year. You finally get your hips checked out at the University health clinic and they'll tell you to quit because the cartiledge is nearly gone. It will suck, but you will find other ways to enjoy being alive. They'll stop hurting once you stop dancing. And let's face it, while you're underweight right now (Yes, you are! No, you aren't fat!) you are never going to have a professional ballerina body. Girl, you have hips and muscles and curves and you like food way more than the taste of toilet paper. Plus, once you quit dancing you'll go up a cup size because you'll finally be at a normal bodyfat level.
College is going to be awesome. There will be drama, and there will be challenges, and there will be a C. Yes, a C. And you will feel lucky to get that C, and it will hold down your GPA, but it will teach you a lesson about not taking classes with 2400 people in them and expecting to do well. You will find interesting jobs and be able to live pretty frugally in college, in situations that are (for the most part) good environments. Don't be afraid to spend money on yourself once in a while. Enjoy yourself!
The internet is going to become much more important to you than you can imagine. You are going to meet so many people that live all over the place, and you are going to go on a Grand Adventure after college, and a particular website that helps you plan your Grand Adventure will lead you to friendships (and more-ships) with people you never would otherwise have met. It becomes far more than chatrooms with avatars, I promise. In fact, in 2007 most people in office jobs won't be able to do their jobs without it. Speaking of jobs, your first job out of college is going to suck, and your second one is going to be work that you really enjoy coupled with a horrible asshole boss and horrible working environment. But you'll figure it out. You'll also end up moving to another state to live with a boy! Yes, you'll miss California, but luckily the internet will help you figure out how to buy cheap plane tickets.
You will find people who love you for who you truly are. You won't have to pretend. You are going to end up meeting someone on the internet and someday you will marry him. No, I won't tell you his name, but he does have a goatee (yes, you'll still like those in 2007) and he'll love you (and you'll love him) more than you can possibly imagine. You'll have tons of adventures before you meet him, and you'll share adventures with him. It'll be awesome.
Love,
2007 MLE
(thanks to clink)
Hi! It's me, and it's now 2007. Honey, there is so much I could tell you about what cool things you're going to do and where you'll go and who you'll meet, but you'll just have to wait and see.
First of all, it gets So Much Better in college. Yes, really. You are really going to enjoy living in Berkeley. You'll get to eat all kinds of things you've never tried, and you'll even learn to like vegetables. And you'll never have to eat a hamburger again. You are also going to let things like alcohol pass your lips. I know, it's shocking, but true.
That guy you have a crush on, the one you haven't really even admitted to yourself? Yes, you're going to date him in college, and though you'll spend the first six months of the relationship completely insecure and convinced that his other high school friends are going to tell him to dump you, eventually you will become friends with them too and you'll all look back on it and laugh. It won't be the best relationship you'll ever have, but it's important because it will help you learn how to be with someone, long-term.
You may not realize it, but all those clothes that your mom saved from college are going to be in fashion in a few years, long after you wore them in high school. You'll look like a trendsetter, eventually.
Mom is right about a lot more things than you're willing to give her credit for. Including your eyebrows. You will feel so much better about yourself once you stop wearing so much makeup and start maintaining those caterpillars on your face. It's something you'll have to do every day, but you will feel so much prettier. Flirt! Flirt with all those guys in college. It's OK to flirt even when you're in a relationship. And definitely OK once you aren't anymore.
Yes, the acne goes away. Eventually. No, I won't tell you how long, but it takes longer than you'd like.
You are amazingly strong in so many ways, far more than you realize. You will have to quit ballet next year. You finally get your hips checked out at the University health clinic and they'll tell you to quit because the cartiledge is nearly gone. It will suck, but you will find other ways to enjoy being alive. They'll stop hurting once you stop dancing. And let's face it, while you're underweight right now (Yes, you are! No, you aren't fat!) you are never going to have a professional ballerina body. Girl, you have hips and muscles and curves and you like food way more than the taste of toilet paper. Plus, once you quit dancing you'll go up a cup size because you'll finally be at a normal bodyfat level.
College is going to be awesome. There will be drama, and there will be challenges, and there will be a C. Yes, a C. And you will feel lucky to get that C, and it will hold down your GPA, but it will teach you a lesson about not taking classes with 2400 people in them and expecting to do well. You will find interesting jobs and be able to live pretty frugally in college, in situations that are (for the most part) good environments. Don't be afraid to spend money on yourself once in a while. Enjoy yourself!
The internet is going to become much more important to you than you can imagine. You are going to meet so many people that live all over the place, and you are going to go on a Grand Adventure after college, and a particular website that helps you plan your Grand Adventure will lead you to friendships (and more-ships) with people you never would otherwise have met. It becomes far more than chatrooms with avatars, I promise. In fact, in 2007 most people in office jobs won't be able to do their jobs without it. Speaking of jobs, your first job out of college is going to suck, and your second one is going to be work that you really enjoy coupled with a horrible asshole boss and horrible working environment. But you'll figure it out. You'll also end up moving to another state to live with a boy! Yes, you'll miss California, but luckily the internet will help you figure out how to buy cheap plane tickets.
You will find people who love you for who you truly are. You won't have to pretend. You are going to end up meeting someone on the internet and someday you will marry him. No, I won't tell you his name, but he does have a goatee (yes, you'll still like those in 2007) and he'll love you (and you'll love him) more than you can possibly imagine. You'll have tons of adventures before you meet him, and you'll share adventures with him. It'll be awesome.
Love,
2007 MLE
(thanks to clink)
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Wednesday wedding day: All the crap we have to do in California
So, we'll be in California for about 10 days before we go to Italy. While we're there, we've got a whole lotta things to do and a whole lotta decisions to make for the wedding, because (as I mentioned yesterday) it's the last time we'll both be out there until we drive out a week before the Big Day.
Here's what we have to get done while we're out there:
1. Meet with tent rental company at the venue to figure out what kind of tenting we need in case of rain. Luckily, they are a) local, b) have worked there before, c) it's off season, and d) I went to preschool with the kids of the owners of the company, so I'm hoping we get a good deal. It's not like a whole lot of the space will need tenting (and it's already a patio, so we won't need a floor and will only need walls if it's actually raining).
2. Dress fitting. I'm hoping the dress fits perfectly and it doesn't need hemming so the only alteration it will need is a one-point bustle to lift up the almost non-existant train for dancing purposes. The store will press it and store it for me until the wedding. It's a little nerve-wracking knowing I won't be able to gain or lose much weight after I have the dress fitting but have to stay pretty much the same size until the end of March. I guess I can lose a little, but I can't gain any. I think this is currently the most stressful thing on the list. Why am I so worried about it?
3. Meet with caterers to do our menu tasting. I'm loking forward to this one. I think our food will be yummy!
4. Meet with photographer to do engagement shoot. We'll probably take photos in the redwoods/at the ocean, though not sure exactly where yet.
5. Stop by the wholesale flower place to see what flowers they'll have in March as back-up for my mom's yard. We might just buy flowers from Trader Joes, too.
6. Find a place to get a cake! Neither of us needs anything frou-frou and we've gotten a recommendation for a bakery in the area who will do sheet cakes for not too much $$. So I guess we have to go eat some cake. Darn.
7. Find fabric for bridesmaid dresses (with assistance of bridesmaids). Because yes, I am insane, and plan to make them myself. One of the things on tap for this weekend is to make the dress for myself out of fabric I already have to see how difficult the process is. I'm not anticipating it being all that difficult; in fact it's quite similar to a costume I made several years ago and this time I have a sewing machine.
8. Trip to IKEA for more decor possibilities.
9. Meet with someone about maybe doing my hair. I haven't decided if I'll have someone else do it or do it myself, but since I've never had my hair professionally done (I did my own hair for prom etc.) it might be nice to splurge on something like that. My only concern is the cost of having someone open up the shop (or come to us) really early in the morning since the ceremony's at like 11:30 and we're doing photos ahead of time.
These are the things I can think of right now, though I'm sure more stuff will come up either before we go or while we're out there. Everything else will have to wait until the third week of March.
So what am I forgetting?
Here's what we have to get done while we're out there:
1. Meet with tent rental company at the venue to figure out what kind of tenting we need in case of rain. Luckily, they are a) local, b) have worked there before, c) it's off season, and d) I went to preschool with the kids of the owners of the company, so I'm hoping we get a good deal. It's not like a whole lot of the space will need tenting (and it's already a patio, so we won't need a floor and will only need walls if it's actually raining).
2. Dress fitting. I'm hoping the dress fits perfectly and it doesn't need hemming so the only alteration it will need is a one-point bustle to lift up the almost non-existant train for dancing purposes. The store will press it and store it for me until the wedding. It's a little nerve-wracking knowing I won't be able to gain or lose much weight after I have the dress fitting but have to stay pretty much the same size until the end of March. I guess I can lose a little, but I can't gain any. I think this is currently the most stressful thing on the list. Why am I so worried about it?
3. Meet with caterers to do our menu tasting. I'm loking forward to this one. I think our food will be yummy!
4. Meet with photographer to do engagement shoot. We'll probably take photos in the redwoods/at the ocean, though not sure exactly where yet.
5. Stop by the wholesale flower place to see what flowers they'll have in March as back-up for my mom's yard. We might just buy flowers from Trader Joes, too.
6. Find a place to get a cake! Neither of us needs anything frou-frou and we've gotten a recommendation for a bakery in the area who will do sheet cakes for not too much $$. So I guess we have to go eat some cake. Darn.
7. Find fabric for bridesmaid dresses (with assistance of bridesmaids). Because yes, I am insane, and plan to make them myself. One of the things on tap for this weekend is to make the dress for myself out of fabric I already have to see how difficult the process is. I'm not anticipating it being all that difficult; in fact it's quite similar to a costume I made several years ago and this time I have a sewing machine.
8. Trip to IKEA for more decor possibilities.
9. Meet with someone about maybe doing my hair. I haven't decided if I'll have someone else do it or do it myself, but since I've never had my hair professionally done (I did my own hair for prom etc.) it might be nice to splurge on something like that. My only concern is the cost of having someone open up the shop (or come to us) really early in the morning since the ceremony's at like 11:30 and we're doing photos ahead of time.
These are the things I can think of right now, though I'm sure more stuff will come up either before we go or while we're out there. Everything else will have to wait until the third week of March.
So what am I forgetting?
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Whelmed, slowly shifting to the over- kind
I finished a book this week: The Android's Dream, by John Scalzi. Wil Wheaton talks about Scalzi in his blog on a semi-regular basis (I guess they are friends) which is how I'd heard of him, but Dan picked this book up at the library a few weeks ago and I read it when he was finished. Woo, one of the best and most original science fiction novels I've read in quite some time! I don't want to give too much away, but this is seriously funny (and well-plotted, well-characterized) stuff. Let's just say that several moments had me laughing out loud. Elements of the plot include a device to make farts communicate insults to an alien race, a church totally made up by a hack who wanted people to pay him money for it, an extraordinarily rare sheep, and an alien on rumspringa. If you are at all fond of humorous fiction, whether that be in a sci-fi-type setting or not, I highly recommend it.
It kind of hit me yesterday that we will be going out of town a week from Thursday and will be out of state and out of the country for nearly a month. There is so much to get done - mail to stop, kitty sitting to arrange, cleaning to do, packing and organizing. Plus there is all kinds of wedding stuff that we need to figure out when we go to CA because we both won't be there again until a week before the wedding. Plus it's Christmas (duh) and we have to figure out presents for everybody either from the internets (and have them shipped to mom's), when we get to CA, or made by either Dan or myself. Dear EEK and Monkey: Um, your giftmas presents may be a little late. By, like, a month. Dan's still finishing our invitations, and when they are finally finished we have to spend hours at my work printing them out. We have to figure out envelopes and address the envelopes and have them ready to mail when we get back from Italy.
And have I mentioned that I haven't cracked an Italy guidebook since October? We really don't have much of a trip itinerary planned, other than what city we'll be in on which dates. I guess it won't be that big of a deal to plan the trip on the plane across the pond (it's not like we'll be there during high tourist season). I was in the same boat when we went to China, but Dan had done all the planning so at least ONE of us knew what was going on. This time, we might be flying by the seat of our pants.
Speaking of pants, I am still lamenting the demise of my China pants. I bought them at a Cross Dress for Less a few weeks before our trip in 2005, and I wore them all through China, and wore them when we got back until they fell apart. Not the seams; the fabric. It wore through. That's how much I lurved those pants. I haven't had a chance to find more pants like them, but I desperately want a pair before we leave for Italy, because I don't want to deal with jeans when we're backpacking. So this weekend we have about 894085409348509 things to get done and on top of everything I need to find some damn pants. Or maybe I can do that in between all of the holiday- and socializing- and wedding-related activities in California.
I haven't even written about a really stressful thing that has been related to family and Christmas this year, but I'm not allowed to talk about it. Let's just say that planning a wedding and trying to buy nice Christmas presents and going to Italy all at the same time is both stressful and expensive. I'm kicking myself that Sunday felt like a wasted day; there's so much more that we (I) could have accomplished if I hadn't felt like poo. Oh, well, tonight there will be more projects on my needles and more progress on the invitations, and I'll pick a room and clean it when I get home (already went to the gym, so won't be going after work), and I will feel better because more got done. Maybe I'll even flip through the Tuscany book we borrowed from QIR before bed.
It kind of hit me yesterday that we will be going out of town a week from Thursday and will be out of state and out of the country for nearly a month. There is so much to get done - mail to stop, kitty sitting to arrange, cleaning to do, packing and organizing. Plus there is all kinds of wedding stuff that we need to figure out when we go to CA because we both won't be there again until a week before the wedding. Plus it's Christmas (duh) and we have to figure out presents for everybody either from the internets (and have them shipped to mom's), when we get to CA, or made by either Dan or myself. Dear EEK and Monkey: Um, your giftmas presents may be a little late. By, like, a month. Dan's still finishing our invitations, and when they are finally finished we have to spend hours at my work printing them out. We have to figure out envelopes and address the envelopes and have them ready to mail when we get back from Italy.
And have I mentioned that I haven't cracked an Italy guidebook since October? We really don't have much of a trip itinerary planned, other than what city we'll be in on which dates. I guess it won't be that big of a deal to plan the trip on the plane across the pond (it's not like we'll be there during high tourist season). I was in the same boat when we went to China, but Dan had done all the planning so at least ONE of us knew what was going on. This time, we might be flying by the seat of our pants.
Speaking of pants, I am still lamenting the demise of my China pants. I bought them at a Cross Dress for Less a few weeks before our trip in 2005, and I wore them all through China, and wore them when we got back until they fell apart. Not the seams; the fabric. It wore through. That's how much I lurved those pants. I haven't had a chance to find more pants like them, but I desperately want a pair before we leave for Italy, because I don't want to deal with jeans when we're backpacking. So this weekend we have about 894085409348509 things to get done and on top of everything I need to find some damn pants. Or maybe I can do that in between all of the holiday- and socializing- and wedding-related activities in California.
I haven't even written about a really stressful thing that has been related to family and Christmas this year, but I'm not allowed to talk about it. Let's just say that planning a wedding and trying to buy nice Christmas presents and going to Italy all at the same time is both stressful and expensive. I'm kicking myself that Sunday felt like a wasted day; there's so much more that we (I) could have accomplished if I hadn't felt like poo. Oh, well, tonight there will be more projects on my needles and more progress on the invitations, and I'll pick a room and clean it when I get home (already went to the gym, so won't be going after work), and I will feel better because more got done. Maybe I'll even flip through the Tuscany book we borrowed from QIR before bed.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Next weekend we'll be attending a sing-along Messiah
Saturday was one of those very full days, with lots of snow that fell all day long, and going to the grocery store to buy yeast, milk, eggs, and a Christmas tree that we'll get to enjoy for all of 10 days, and decorating said tree with the ornaments we've started to amass since living together. I wasn't willing to spring for the tree that I *really* wanted (the noble fir, much prettier than the kind we ended up with) but I think the one we picked is fine. It makes our house smell like tree. Due to the aforementioned snow (and, along with, COLD), I wasn't up for making a wreath for our front door out of the bottom branches like I normally do.
The tree got beautified and brought inside to melt, decorated with lights and ornaments and, of course, our traditional toppers of Devil Ducky, the Frog that Lives Over the Door, and Poseable Jesus on Wheels (we got Jesus working for us!). The kitties mostly ignored our new evergreen friend. We played Christmas music and hung the stockings I made last year, and Dan made challah from scratch which kind of took all day. It's funny, but we're still rising any bread products in the bathroom because it is by far the warmest place in the house, and our bathroom smells like bread for a day or so afterward.
After a trip to the liquor store for a big-ole' bottle of wine, we got all gussied up and headed out to our friend Julie's annual latke party. We missed it last year due to its proximity to Christmas, the blizzard, and our lack of vehicle, so I was really looking forward to it this year - especially because Julie and the other hosts had arranged for a rabbi to come by and do a brief service called a havdalah to end Shabbat. I think the rabbi could tell that most of the people there weren't Jewish, so he took some time to explain what he was doing. Someone lit a multi-wicked braided candle, and the rabbi used grape juice instead of wine because he had to drive. Actually, the guy who owned the house tried to get him to use the leftover Manischewitz, but the rabbi told him to use that to clean grease off car parts or something.
The havdalah was pretty cool, and afterward I got to play with a wii for the first time (wii bowling), and we all waited patiently for the enormous pile of latkes to be done. Julie's latkes, while fantastic, are, of course, simple carbs cooked in oil. The kind of thing we almost never eat. There was also Julie's chicken soup (and Dan's challah), but the whole point of the party was the latkes, which you could smell from a block away. The only condiments allowed at the latkefest are sour cream and applesauce - yummy, but again, more carbs and fat. Since I have to fit into a dress in a couple of weeks, I opted to go light on the latkes, but unfortunately forgot to eat enough other stuff to make up for it, and the 3.5 drinks I had in 6 hours made for a very intoxicated mle.
And I paid for it. Oh, did I pay yesterday. I felt like poo all day long, especially since the food I did eat was stuff that really didn't agree with me. We had intended to go to Tuba Christmas, this Denver tradition where anyone in possession of a remotely tuba-like instrument is invited to practice in the morning and perform in the afternoon with the rest of the motley crew of people who show up. We went a couple of years ago and took some pictures, which you can see here. So let's pretend that I took these this year, and that we got to go to Tuba Christmas, and there were 90-year-old men tuba-ing alongside their great-grandchildren. But it was still snowy, and the high was about 19F, and neither of us wanted to get as bundled up as we'd need to in order to spend a couple of hours standing around listening to tuba music. So we didn't go, but instead he shoveled all the snow while I stayed inside and desultorily worked on knitting Christmas presents for people.
We did make it out of the house once, to Target for the angel tree gifts we picked this year, then to the grocery store. Outside the grocery store was a man with an oxygen tank, tubes in his nose and everything, smoking a cigarette. We decided to file that under "marginally better than smoking a cigarette next to an oxygen tank at a gas station." I was not myself all day long, and finally started to feel better after he made me a fantastic dinner. After dinner we continued watching Rome season 2 and my stomach got all oogy again - seriously, that show is GRAPHIC. It's a great show, but it doesn't exactly aid in digestion, what with all the blood and the sex and the bloody sex. I slept like the dead, and feel fine today. Except for that one spot in my mouth, which I bit accidentally yesterday, and today it hurts like a mofo.
The tree got beautified and brought inside to melt, decorated with lights and ornaments and, of course, our traditional toppers of Devil Ducky, the Frog that Lives Over the Door, and Poseable Jesus on Wheels (we got Jesus working for us!). The kitties mostly ignored our new evergreen friend. We played Christmas music and hung the stockings I made last year, and Dan made challah from scratch which kind of took all day. It's funny, but we're still rising any bread products in the bathroom because it is by far the warmest place in the house, and our bathroom smells like bread for a day or so afterward.
After a trip to the liquor store for a big-ole' bottle of wine, we got all gussied up and headed out to our friend Julie's annual latke party. We missed it last year due to its proximity to Christmas, the blizzard, and our lack of vehicle, so I was really looking forward to it this year - especially because Julie and the other hosts had arranged for a rabbi to come by and do a brief service called a havdalah to end Shabbat. I think the rabbi could tell that most of the people there weren't Jewish, so he took some time to explain what he was doing. Someone lit a multi-wicked braided candle, and the rabbi used grape juice instead of wine because he had to drive. Actually, the guy who owned the house tried to get him to use the leftover Manischewitz, but the rabbi told him to use that to clean grease off car parts or something.
The havdalah was pretty cool, and afterward I got to play with a wii for the first time (wii bowling), and we all waited patiently for the enormous pile of latkes to be done. Julie's latkes, while fantastic, are, of course, simple carbs cooked in oil. The kind of thing we almost never eat. There was also Julie's chicken soup (and Dan's challah), but the whole point of the party was the latkes, which you could smell from a block away. The only condiments allowed at the latkefest are sour cream and applesauce - yummy, but again, more carbs and fat. Since I have to fit into a dress in a couple of weeks, I opted to go light on the latkes, but unfortunately forgot to eat enough other stuff to make up for it, and the 3.5 drinks I had in 6 hours made for a very intoxicated mle.
And I paid for it. Oh, did I pay yesterday. I felt like poo all day long, especially since the food I did eat was stuff that really didn't agree with me. We had intended to go to Tuba Christmas, this Denver tradition where anyone in possession of a remotely tuba-like instrument is invited to practice in the morning and perform in the afternoon with the rest of the motley crew of people who show up. We went a couple of years ago and took some pictures, which you can see here. So let's pretend that I took these this year, and that we got to go to Tuba Christmas, and there were 90-year-old men tuba-ing alongside their great-grandchildren. But it was still snowy, and the high was about 19F, and neither of us wanted to get as bundled up as we'd need to in order to spend a couple of hours standing around listening to tuba music. So we didn't go, but instead he shoveled all the snow while I stayed inside and desultorily worked on knitting Christmas presents for people.
We did make it out of the house once, to Target for the angel tree gifts we picked this year, then to the grocery store. Outside the grocery store was a man with an oxygen tank, tubes in his nose and everything, smoking a cigarette. We decided to file that under "marginally better than smoking a cigarette next to an oxygen tank at a gas station." I was not myself all day long, and finally started to feel better after he made me a fantastic dinner. After dinner we continued watching Rome season 2 and my stomach got all oogy again - seriously, that show is GRAPHIC. It's a great show, but it doesn't exactly aid in digestion, what with all the blood and the sex and the bloody sex. I slept like the dead, and feel fine today. Except for that one spot in my mouth, which I bit accidentally yesterday, and today it hurts like a mofo.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Friday Fitness: Ouch!
All things considered, I did pretty well this week.
Monday: 50 minutes of cardio, 60 minute Power Pump class
Tuesday: 35 minutes cardio, 60 minute Yoga for Athletes (finally!)
Wednesday: took the day off
Thursday: 60 minutes hardcore Pilates class, 60 minutes awesome spin class
This morning, I was leaving for work and I tripped and fell on our back steps. I'm not sure why; they weren't icy (though it did rain sometime early this morning and so they were a bit wet) but I was wearing my backpack and had my hand on the rail, so my arm ended up wrenched behind me and the backpack kind of crunched into my neck as I fell. My ass is bruised, and my neck/back seized up immediately. It felt like a reprise of the whiplash feeling from the car accident I was in last year. I went back inside, popped two aleve, and caught my breath (seriously, it was scary!) before I strapped on the backpack again and walked to work.
Now, I hurt. I probably don't hurt as badly as I would had I not taken all the drugs, but my neck and shoulders and back are Not Happy. I'm really annoyed, because I wanted to take the cardio kickboxing/zumba class at 11:30 this morning. Somehow, I don't think that's such a good idea. Maybe instead I'll go in and do yoga at 1:30. I'm just glad it isn't worse, because I don't want to have to stop going to the gym for any length of time. I feel like I'm in a good groove; my body feels good and it's such a good stress reliever for me. There's been some major family-related stress going on for me this week and it's so nice to push myself to a sweat or turn into a pretzel and I don't have to think about it for that little while. I'm starting to feel pretty strong and powerful, like my body is capable of great things. Also, I like that my jeans are loose.
New class this week was the Yoga for Athletes class. I must say, it was a little disappointing, maybe because I found the teacher to be a little weird, maybe because the poses she chose to have us do were more painful than they were productive (IMHO). I don't think I'll be taking that class again, at least not with that teacher.
Monday: 50 minutes of cardio, 60 minute Power Pump class
Tuesday: 35 minutes cardio, 60 minute Yoga for Athletes (finally!)
Wednesday: took the day off
Thursday: 60 minutes hardcore Pilates class, 60 minutes awesome spin class
This morning, I was leaving for work and I tripped and fell on our back steps. I'm not sure why; they weren't icy (though it did rain sometime early this morning and so they were a bit wet) but I was wearing my backpack and had my hand on the rail, so my arm ended up wrenched behind me and the backpack kind of crunched into my neck as I fell. My ass is bruised, and my neck/back seized up immediately. It felt like a reprise of the whiplash feeling from the car accident I was in last year. I went back inside, popped two aleve, and caught my breath (seriously, it was scary!) before I strapped on the backpack again and walked to work.
Now, I hurt. I probably don't hurt as badly as I would had I not taken all the drugs, but my neck and shoulders and back are Not Happy. I'm really annoyed, because I wanted to take the cardio kickboxing/zumba class at 11:30 this morning. Somehow, I don't think that's such a good idea. Maybe instead I'll go in and do yoga at 1:30. I'm just glad it isn't worse, because I don't want to have to stop going to the gym for any length of time. I feel like I'm in a good groove; my body feels good and it's such a good stress reliever for me. There's been some major family-related stress going on for me this week and it's so nice to push myself to a sweat or turn into a pretzel and I don't have to think about it for that little while. I'm starting to feel pretty strong and powerful, like my body is capable of great things. Also, I like that my jeans are loose.
New class this week was the Yoga for Athletes class. I must say, it was a little disappointing, maybe because I found the teacher to be a little weird, maybe because the poses she chose to have us do were more painful than they were productive (IMHO). I don't think I'll be taking that class again, at least not with that teacher.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Piers Anthony, a DeLorean, and kicking cancer's ass
In my recent 100 more things post, I mentioned having a penpal in high school. Actually, I had a lot of pen pals, but I knew all of the other people I wrote to. I was a letter-writing fiend. I was also a big fan of a variety of fantasy authors, including Piers Anthony (shut up. I was a kid.) One day, I got a copy of the Piers Anthony newsletter in the mail (I'd called the 1-800 hotline so they would send it to me). They only ever sent me the one, but in that one was a section that was essentially people who had written in to Piers asking him to hook them up with pen pals. One of the messages said something like "Kent, 16, was once seriously depressed and would like to hear from the opposite sex." Kent's Connecticut address was listed for all takers.
I thought to myself, Self? I am 15. I am still somewhat depressed (who isn't, when they're a teenager?) And I am the opposite sex. I like writing letters, so why don't I write a letter to Kent? And I did. I wrote him a letter. I don't remember what I said now, but I'm sure it was full of angsty teenaged girl things. I probably decorated the envelope in some interesting fashion, as was my wont at the time. I didn't think anything would come of it, but a week or so later there was a response in the mail, a letter back from Kent. So I responded. And he responded. He made me a mix tape; I made him a mix tape. He told me about his dream of owning a DeLorean coming true. I told him about wanting to travel around the world. He told me that he'd received tons of letters after his initial ad, but that I was the only person he wrote back more than a couple of times. I think after we'd been writing for a year or so, we talked on the phone once or twice. Our junior year, Kent asked if my mom would let me come out to Connecticut to go to prom with him (I asked; she said no), but then he started dating a girl so it was a moot point anyhow. He heard about my travails with various boyfriends, I heard about his girlfriend; we exchanged photos. He even sent me a photo of his beloved DeLorean. Kent developed the habit of spray painting the envelopes he sent me, so each one is different. And yes, I still have them in a box in the closet at my mom's house. I kept all the letters I got in high school.
I went to college and I think he did too, though he kind of took the long way around. We continued to exchange Christmas cards but eventually lost track of one another. One time toward the end of college I googled his name and came across a site for the band he was in, so I wrote an email to the email address on the site and he wrote back! So we did the letter thing again, only in email this time. He sent me some promotional materials and a newspaper article about his band, and I even liked the songs on the CD he sent me. He started dating a girl named Christine. I graduated college and entered the real world. He sold his DeLorean. He finished undergrad. I moved to Colorado.
Again, time went on, and our correspondence waxed and waned (primarily consisting of the occasional email and annual Christmas card). Dan and I went to visit his brother in DC in the summer of 2004, so before we left I emailed Kent and said hey, do you want to come down and hang out, finally meeting in person after 10 years? He said, Sure, I'll take the train down. And I'll bring Christine (yes, the same Christine). Sweet! I told him. So we met up in the big train station near the mall, ten years after I wrote that first letter.
I learned some things about Kent during that afternoon that I hadn't known before (or, I guess, hadn't really grokked). He was a (liberal) Christian. He was a vegetarian, down to his non-leather boots. He was deathly allergic to peanut products. Christine mentioned how much she missed peanuts or anything nut-related, since he could die if she ate one of those things and then gave him a smooch. He can't even eat regular candy bars/chocolate, since most of those things are made in a facility that also processes peanuts. So sad. We (Dan, Kent, Christine and I) wandered around Arlington National Cemetary in the pouring rain. We met up with Dan's bro and the Lovely Katherine for pizza in the afternoon. Someone took a picture of Kent and I, friends from afar for years and years. It was a lovely afternoon and evening, and I was a little sad when they had to catch their train home, because I felt like I'd not only gotten to meet my long-distance friend but I'd made another in his girlfriend of five years.
Just a few months later, I got to go to Boston for work, and Dan came out for the weekend part of the trip. It was a short drive for Kent and Christine, so they drove down, picked us up, and we went to Salem for the day, exploring and having a grand afternoon. I found myself wishing we lived closer so we could see them more often.
When Dan and I got engaged, before we even set a date I called Kent up to give him the news and tell him to prepare himself for airplane travel. See, he's one of those "hates to fly" types. I told him it was a great opportunity for them to finally see Northern California, and we'd love to have them at the wedding. I called him a couple of months ago to say hi and ask about a logistical wedding-related issue, and he didn't have time to chat. We played phone tag for a while but I didn't hear from him again until I called him on Tuesday to wish him a happy 30th birthday. "I can't talk now either!" he told me. "Christine and I are going out to dinner with my parents. OH! And the day after I talked to you before, we got engaged!"
Woohoo! I exclaimed with joy. "Can I call you tomorrow evening, then, to chat more?" "How about tomorrow afternoon," he said. "We'll be going out tomorrow night with Christine's parents because she has to go in for surgery on Thursday."
"Surgery? What for?"
"Oh - I forgot I hadn't told you. Christine has thyroid cancer."
I called him back yesterday afternoon. He told me the story of how they got engaged (finally, after 8 years of dating!) and how they haven't set any plans yet for the wedding because they want to buy a house first. And he told me how a year ago, Christine found a lump in her neck and didn't have insurance, so she paid out of pocket for an inconclusive ultrasound, at which time the doctor told her to wait until she had insurace before she did anything further. She didn't get insurance until a few months ago, when she had the lump biopsied and lost the lottery, as most (95%) thyroid tumors are benign. It was cancer.
Turns out, though, if you're forced to pick a cancer to have, the kind Christine has is the best kind, seems like. I did a little research using Dr. Google and discovered that there are four kinds of thyroid cancers, and hers is highly treatable (97% cured with combination of surgery and drugs). Also? Because it's cancer of the thyroid, once her thyroid is removed, any leftover cancerous cells, being thyroid cells, are the only cells in the body to absorb iodine. And so a few weeks after surgery she'll be on a low-iodine diet and then take radioactive iodine, which will only be absorbed by any remaining cancer cells and kill them right quick. A targeted cancer treatment, if you will, that seems like it does the trick for almost everyone. Plus, she's still young and (other than the cancer) completely healthy. She should be fine.
The only downside to the radioactive iodine is that she'll be, duh, radioactive for a while as it makes its way out of her body. Sweat, pee, saliva, anything she touches will be a little bit radioactive. So she can't be around Kent or their cats or anyone else for a few days while she's all science-fictiony. I told Kent to tell her that she should take that opportunity to eat as much peanut butter, thai food, and anything else with peanutty goodness in it that her heart desires, since she can't be around him or kiss him for those few days. Might as well find a silver lining, right?
Christine went in for surgery early this morning. I'm going to wait to call until the weekend, to give her time to rest a bit. I feel a little bit helpless being 2000 miles away, but I know she's surrounded by people who love her and can provide whatever support she needs. I've been thinking about her today, and thinking about the trip to Connecticut (and probably New York) we'll get to make in a couple of years when they finally get around to getting hitched. I am glad to still have Kent as my friend, and glad that he has found such a good person to be his partner in crime. And all my good wishes are going out to Christine today, who is totally going to kick cancer's ass.
I thought to myself, Self? I am 15. I am still somewhat depressed (who isn't, when they're a teenager?) And I am the opposite sex. I like writing letters, so why don't I write a letter to Kent? And I did. I wrote him a letter. I don't remember what I said now, but I'm sure it was full of angsty teenaged girl things. I probably decorated the envelope in some interesting fashion, as was my wont at the time. I didn't think anything would come of it, but a week or so later there was a response in the mail, a letter back from Kent. So I responded. And he responded. He made me a mix tape; I made him a mix tape. He told me about his dream of owning a DeLorean coming true. I told him about wanting to travel around the world. He told me that he'd received tons of letters after his initial ad, but that I was the only person he wrote back more than a couple of times. I think after we'd been writing for a year or so, we talked on the phone once or twice. Our junior year, Kent asked if my mom would let me come out to Connecticut to go to prom with him (I asked; she said no), but then he started dating a girl so it was a moot point anyhow. He heard about my travails with various boyfriends, I heard about his girlfriend; we exchanged photos. He even sent me a photo of his beloved DeLorean. Kent developed the habit of spray painting the envelopes he sent me, so each one is different. And yes, I still have them in a box in the closet at my mom's house. I kept all the letters I got in high school.
I went to college and I think he did too, though he kind of took the long way around. We continued to exchange Christmas cards but eventually lost track of one another. One time toward the end of college I googled his name and came across a site for the band he was in, so I wrote an email to the email address on the site and he wrote back! So we did the letter thing again, only in email this time. He sent me some promotional materials and a newspaper article about his band, and I even liked the songs on the CD he sent me. He started dating a girl named Christine. I graduated college and entered the real world. He sold his DeLorean. He finished undergrad. I moved to Colorado.
Again, time went on, and our correspondence waxed and waned (primarily consisting of the occasional email and annual Christmas card). Dan and I went to visit his brother in DC in the summer of 2004, so before we left I emailed Kent and said hey, do you want to come down and hang out, finally meeting in person after 10 years? He said, Sure, I'll take the train down. And I'll bring Christine (yes, the same Christine). Sweet! I told him. So we met up in the big train station near the mall, ten years after I wrote that first letter.
I learned some things about Kent during that afternoon that I hadn't known before (or, I guess, hadn't really grokked). He was a (liberal) Christian. He was a vegetarian, down to his non-leather boots. He was deathly allergic to peanut products. Christine mentioned how much she missed peanuts or anything nut-related, since he could die if she ate one of those things and then gave him a smooch. He can't even eat regular candy bars/chocolate, since most of those things are made in a facility that also processes peanuts. So sad. We (Dan, Kent, Christine and I) wandered around Arlington National Cemetary in the pouring rain. We met up with Dan's bro and the Lovely Katherine for pizza in the afternoon. Someone took a picture of Kent and I, friends from afar for years and years. It was a lovely afternoon and evening, and I was a little sad when they had to catch their train home, because I felt like I'd not only gotten to meet my long-distance friend but I'd made another in his girlfriend of five years.
Just a few months later, I got to go to Boston for work, and Dan came out for the weekend part of the trip. It was a short drive for Kent and Christine, so they drove down, picked us up, and we went to Salem for the day, exploring and having a grand afternoon. I found myself wishing we lived closer so we could see them more often.
When Dan and I got engaged, before we even set a date I called Kent up to give him the news and tell him to prepare himself for airplane travel. See, he's one of those "hates to fly" types. I told him it was a great opportunity for them to finally see Northern California, and we'd love to have them at the wedding. I called him a couple of months ago to say hi and ask about a logistical wedding-related issue, and he didn't have time to chat. We played phone tag for a while but I didn't hear from him again until I called him on Tuesday to wish him a happy 30th birthday. "I can't talk now either!" he told me. "Christine and I are going out to dinner with my parents. OH! And the day after I talked to you before, we got engaged!"
Woohoo! I exclaimed with joy. "Can I call you tomorrow evening, then, to chat more?" "How about tomorrow afternoon," he said. "We'll be going out tomorrow night with Christine's parents because she has to go in for surgery on Thursday."
"Surgery? What for?"
"Oh - I forgot I hadn't told you. Christine has thyroid cancer."
I called him back yesterday afternoon. He told me the story of how they got engaged (finally, after 8 years of dating!) and how they haven't set any plans yet for the wedding because they want to buy a house first. And he told me how a year ago, Christine found a lump in her neck and didn't have insurance, so she paid out of pocket for an inconclusive ultrasound, at which time the doctor told her to wait until she had insurace before she did anything further. She didn't get insurance until a few months ago, when she had the lump biopsied and lost the lottery, as most (95%) thyroid tumors are benign. It was cancer.
Turns out, though, if you're forced to pick a cancer to have, the kind Christine has is the best kind, seems like. I did a little research using Dr. Google and discovered that there are four kinds of thyroid cancers, and hers is highly treatable (97% cured with combination of surgery and drugs). Also? Because it's cancer of the thyroid, once her thyroid is removed, any leftover cancerous cells, being thyroid cells, are the only cells in the body to absorb iodine. And so a few weeks after surgery she'll be on a low-iodine diet and then take radioactive iodine, which will only be absorbed by any remaining cancer cells and kill them right quick. A targeted cancer treatment, if you will, that seems like it does the trick for almost everyone. Plus, she's still young and (other than the cancer) completely healthy. She should be fine.
The only downside to the radioactive iodine is that she'll be, duh, radioactive for a while as it makes its way out of her body. Sweat, pee, saliva, anything she touches will be a little bit radioactive. So she can't be around Kent or their cats or anyone else for a few days while she's all science-fictiony. I told Kent to tell her that she should take that opportunity to eat as much peanut butter, thai food, and anything else with peanutty goodness in it that her heart desires, since she can't be around him or kiss him for those few days. Might as well find a silver lining, right?
Christine went in for surgery early this morning. I'm going to wait to call until the weekend, to give her time to rest a bit. I feel a little bit helpless being 2000 miles away, but I know she's surrounded by people who love her and can provide whatever support she needs. I've been thinking about her today, and thinking about the trip to Connecticut (and probably New York) we'll get to make in a couple of years when they finally get around to getting hitched. I am glad to still have Kent as my friend, and glad that he has found such a good person to be his partner in crime. And all my good wishes are going out to Christine today, who is totally going to kick cancer's ass.
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