Weekend Report

Friday- Went out to dinner for a friend's birthday at Greek Corner, a Greek (duh) restaurant in Cambridge. It was great! We ordered some sampler plates of appetizers and they were delicioius, especially the spinach pie and the caviar. I had lamb kebabs for dinner (yum!) and tried Retsina, traditional Greek wine flavored with pine resin, which tastes much better than it sounds. The staff were all competent and friendly, and the fact that we were such a big group (about 14 people) didn't cause any problems. It's a little bit of a hike from downtown Boston, but I would definitely recommed it for anyone in the mood for some tasty Greek cuisine.

Saturday- My soccer team had our end of season party, with a pink holiday theme to match both our uniforms and the time of year. There were several spectacular pink outfits present: a pink blazer, a pink bathrobe, a pink velour jumpsuit...all worn by men. We also had a Yankee Swap that was a lot of fun. While I was in Mexico, I bought a pink lucha libre mask for the occasion, and it was a popular present. Not quite as popular was a decorative set of about 30 tiny dead birds, although by the end of the night, the majority of them were either hidden in the apartment or used to adorn partygoers. I ended up with a pink headband, pink wristbands, and pink shoelaces, and I was quite pleased. So pleased that I stayed up until 5AM drinking Pinkles Punch.

Sunday- When I finally arose, at noon, I felt like crap. One cup of coffee and shepherd's pie later, courtesy of the Playwright, I felt hells better. Spent the rest of the day in the lab, then had dinner in Framingham with my parents.

Math and Rap, Together at Last

Graphical interpretations of rap lyrics. This one was by far my favorite:

Scared by Santa

In the boston.com photo gallery of children with Santa, 50% of the kids look absolutely terrified. And those frightened little faces make me laugh and laugh. (apparently my heart is two sizes too small.)

Santa is a pretty freaky guy, though. I wouldn't want to sit on his lap, either.

A question for the ladies

(also applies to long-haired men who blow out their 'dos....I'm looking at you, Bronson Arroyo)

I need a new hairdryer. Mine sucks. It takes forever to dry my hair, which is why I always give up somewhere during the process and end up with damp hair that's destined to poof.

If you have fallen in love with a specific make or model of hairdryer, please let me know in the comments. Thanks!

We now return to regularly scheduled programming.

Book Reviews

Well, I'm back from San Diego, and in addition to a lot of eating, drinking, and lounging, I also did a fair amount of reading.

1. Accordion Crimes, by E. Annie Proulx. Pulitzer-Prize winning author Proulx takes on the vast topic of immigration in America by tracing a little green accordion through a series of owners. In the 19th century, an Italian immigrant crafts the instrument and brings it with him to New Orleans, where he is soon murdered by an anti-Italian mob. Over time, the accordion changes hands, from Germans to Poles to Cajuns to Mexicans and even French-Canadians, travelling to Texas oilfields to Chicago to Maine, and each chapter tells the story of the current owners. The premise is simple and interesting enough, but the execution left much to be desired. This book was a bear to get through. Proulx's America is a harsh and brutal nation, rife with evil and devoid of beauty. Her writing is vivid and technically flawless, but I had trouble sticking with the book, and in the end, I wish I had abandoned it after the first chapter. It's page after page of cruelties, murder, violence, rape, incest, molestation, and tragic accidents. Do your psyche a favor and skip it.

2. Can I Keep My Jersey?, by Paul Shirley. After the Debbie Downer of the Accordion Crimes, I was in the mood for something lighter. Fellow basketball fan Jason lent me a book by Shirley, a former college star at Iowa State attempting to make it in the NBA. I had read a couple of articles by Shirley in the past (he has written for ESPN and Slate) but didn't know that much about him. Shirley has been descibred as a basketball journeyman, and the book reads like a journal, following him in and out of the NBA, American minor leagues, and European league teams in Spain, Greece, and Russia. To the reader, it's immediately obvious that Shirley is both extremely intelligent and, at times, fairly humorous. However, I didn't like the book that much. I was hoping for more juicy insider gossip, but the few specific anecdotes doled out are not at all surprising (Shaq is friendly, Kobe is an asshole...who would have guessed?). And, man, does he WHINE!!! His litany of complaints never ceases- the food is terrible, the hotel sucks, NBA players are hypocritical idiots, the league is biased against white players, etc...I understand that it must be frustrating to have little to no job security, but it's hard to muster up sympathy for someone who does turns down a $200,000 offer to play in Barcelona for a year. Hell, I'd gladly clean toilets in Barcelona for a sum like that. Parts of the book were entertaining, but overall, I was left wondering why he still plays basketball, if he seems to hate everything about it so much.

3. A Model World and Other Stories, by Michael Chabon. The last book I read was a collection of short stories by one of my favorite authors. The first half of the book contains numerous individual stories, and the second part all feature the same protagonist, a suburban boy whose parents are in the process of divorce. Due to the format, the stories are nothing like the sprawling and meandering novels for which he is known. However, it's a quick and enjoyable read, filled with unique and believable characters. I preferred the second section of the book, which reads more like a novella than the occasionally curt tales of the first half.

Weekend Report: San Diego edition

Friday- Ate several Thanksgiving leftover sandwiches (yum!), then went to see I'm Not There, the new Bob Dylan movie. If you were to divide the Earth's population into two groups, People Obsessed With Bob Dylan and People Not Obsessed With Bob Dylan, I would fall firmly into the first category. So, yes, I was looking forward to seeing this movie. In a more creative interpretation of a singer's life than normally presented in such biopics, Bob Dylan is portrayed as five fictional characters: A young, itinerant, black boy, a folk singer turned born again Christian, a romantic and womanizing popular actor, a drugged-out singer rebelling against the "voice of a generation" tag, and a recluse living in a trippy, old West town. I'll spare you a full review of my own and direct you to Kevin's insightful commentary. Overall, I really liked the film. I much preferred the middle three Dylans and could have done without the boy or the Richard Gere cowboy segment (except for the awesome cameo by My Morning Jacket). Cate Blanchett gave an amazing performance (I was worried that her part would be too gimmicky- a la A Woman Plays Bob!, but it wasn't at all.), and I enjoyed Christian Bale, especially when he becomes a preacher at a suburban church. Heath Ledger's romantic segment is one of the most captivating portions of the film- young actor falls in love with a beautiful French artist, they wed, procreate, then he ruins everything with his womanizing. The supporting cast is also excellent, especially David Cross as Allen Ginsberg. Yes, the movie is replete with Dylan in-jokes and can get tediously arty at times, but it's a fresh way to look at complicated man. And, of course, the music is stellar.

After the movie, we went out for sushi and then drinks.

Saturday- Mexico! Eri, Ryan, their friend Mandy and I piled in the car and headed south to Baja California. We drove down the beautiful coastline until we reached Ensenada and walked around for a while. On the drive back, we stopped at a little town and drank margaritas on a patio overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Unfortunately, all of our goodwill towards our southern neighbor evaporated after we got stuck at the border for FOUR HOURS. Note to self: never again attempt to enter the United States from Tijuana on a Saturday night. We managed to get some sort of entertainment by watching the vendors weave in and out of the stopped line of cars, showing off their rather unusual wares. Now I wish I had taken a series of photos to document the items for sale, but they ranged from bizarre to spectacular: glittery Virgin Marys, children's desks, enormous ceramic turtles, live puppies, and (our favorite) a giant blanket emblazoned with Al Pacino from Scarface. I made one purchase that will serve as my entry into my soccer team's Yankee Swap, but I prefer to keep it a surprise for the time being.



Nothing says Mexico like a man in mariachi pants eating a taco.



Sunday- I met up with Peace Corps friends Dana and Natan for breakfast, then went to a bar to watch the various NFL games with Eri and Ryan. San Diegans are very serious about their Chargers and own the jerseys to prove it. Non-Bostonians are always struck by the omnipresent Red Sox apparel worn by the city's natives, and I was impressed by the number of San Diego citizens wearing Chargers jerseys. Not just on game days, either. Later on, I went to visit my college friend Kelli, who is doing her residency and is the mother of twin one-and-a-half year old boys. And she's pregnant. And she and her husband are both in the Navy (gotta pay for dual medical school somehow) and he's getting deployed. So they have a pretty busy year coming up.

I love this video

an interpretation of daft punk

Me and John Traveler

Thanksgiving morning, I arose early for my cross-country flight. While waiting to board the plane, I noticed a monitor that said "If you are flying standby, your name will appear on this list: Traveler, J." and thought to myself "Heh, that's funny. That guy (for some reason, I decided that the J stood for John) is flying standby and his last name is Traveler. And he's traveling! Get it?"
I got on the plane, and slept most of the way on the first leg of my journey. When I awoke, I immediately felt some hunger pangs and rued my decision not to load my bag with snacks. I was scheduled for a long layover, and as soon as I landed in Los Angeles, I made a bee-line to the first food establishment in sight: Chili's. I pulled up a seat at the bar and scanned the menu. Quesadilla. I looked around at the other patrons and took a quick survey of their beverages. The woman next to me was drinking a margarita. It looked good. The man next to her ordered a Bailey's and coffee, and the bartender offered to make it a double for two dollars more. He took the deal. An elderly couple sipped glasses of merlot. I opted for a margarita, and the woman next to me told me that she liked hers and we began chatting. She was friendly, around 40 with streaky blonde hair and lots of eyeliner. She had moved to LA from Missouri sixteen years ago and was headed back to visit her family. She asked me what I did and I told her, and when I asked her she told me that she worked in the entertainment industry. (My first thought: OMG, porn!) A man sat down on my other side and joined the conversation. He was a political science professor from Green Bay. We watched some of the Lions - Packers game, and I learned that it was only 10:45AM. So here I sat in the Chili's at the LA airport, drinking a margarita and watching football with a possible pornographer and a professor, and it was not yet 11AM. Happy Thanksgiving, America!

Okay, back to John Traveler. I decided to try and hop an earlier flight to San Diego and went to check myself in as a standby passenger. The monitor said "If you are flying standby, your name will appear on this list: Traveler, J." Wow- John Traveler is on my flight again! What are the chances? That's hilarious! Suddenly, the monitor blinked and my name, along with the names of a couple other standby passengers, appeared on the screen. Turns out that J. Traveler is not a real person, just a name used as example. I'm blonde, by the way.

I made it to San Diego and enjoyed a delicious Thanksgiving dinner, complete with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and lots of pie. Mmm....

Happy Thanksgiving!

I leave tomorrow for San Diego, where I'll be spending Thanksgiving weekend. Enjoy your turkey, everybody!

And here's something for you bloggers out there:

What is the reading level of your blog?

Mine is College (Postgrad) cuz I'm like wicked eloquent and stuff. (via RT)

Windows Live Hotmail troubles continue....my account seems to be sending out multiple copies of emails. I sent one to myself on Sunday ("hi, self, how are you? I'm great, thanks!" No, really, I email myself boring data excel spreadsheets whenever I use other labs' computers.) and I've received multiple copies of it since then. Boooo. Hopefully I haven't been spamming anyone else.

Movie Review: No Country For Old Men

Last night, I went to see No Country for Old Men, the Coen brothers' adaptation of the Cormac McCarthy novel of the same name. I was looking forward to this movie for three reasons:

1. Cormac McCarthy is one of my favorite authors, and although NCfOM is not among my favorite of his works, it's still a great book and probably the one best suited to serve as a template for a screenplay.

2. Coen brothers. I enjoy their movies, especially Fargo, Raising Arizona, and O Brother, Where Art Thou? (yes, the exclusion of The Big Lebowski is deliberate...it just never did much for me.) I thought that they were an unusual choice to make this movie, seeing that they gravitate towards offbeat humor, and there's really nothing funny at all about the novel, so I was eager to see their take on it.

3. Javier Bardem. I first became a fan of his after seeing The Dancer Upstairs, and his incredible performance in The Sea Inside absolutely blew me away. Maybe incredible is the wrong adjective, I mean, it was incredible precisely because it was so credible. Okay, moving on, he's an amazing actor and I was excited to see him play the bad guy.

Overall, No Country For Old Men did not disappoint. The plot is simple: in rural Texas, Llewelyn Moss (played by Josh Brolin) is out hunting and stumbles upon the aftermath of a drug deal gone wrong- a pile of dead bodies and a briefcase containing two million dollars. He takes the cash and runs. On his trail is Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem), a remorseless killer hired to retrieve the money. Tommy Lee Jones is the local sheriff who hopes to find the outmatched Llewelyn before Chigurh does.

The casting, scenery, and slow pace, fraught with constant tension, perfectly captured the sentiment of McCarthy's novel. And Javier Bardem is one scary MF, even with that ridiculous haircut. I think it helped that I had read the book, because I knew right away who was who, although there was one part of the plot that I couldn't figure out (I'll try not to spoil it....but who was the Mexican guy in the suit at the bus station?). The Texan accents are laid on pretty thick, and my friends (two Colombians and a French guy) who went to see the movie with me had trouble understanding some of the dialogue, so if that is a potential problem for you, I'd recommend renting it when it comes out on DVD and watching with subtitles.

Linky time

Here's a quiz- find out what type of humor you have here. (Note: you don't have to enter your email to see the results, just click and bypass that part.)

I'm CLEAN/COMPLEX/DARK. Hmmm....pretty accurate.



Via my sister Kerry...The 25 Most Baffling Toys From Around the World. Hilarious, and quite bizarre. My favorite is the stuffed toy virus.

And now for something less funny: Kids these days don't read so good.

Weekend Report

Friday- Went to the Celtics vs. Heat game with AJ from Hoops Writers. He has great seats, and it was really fun to be so close to the action. I walked down to the edge of the court to snap some photos of the players warming up. Unfortunately, my camera has a fairly significant delay, so instead of capturing KG mid-shot, I ended up with a lot of photos of him turning away after releasing the ball. Seeing NBA players close up makes you appreciate how large they truly are- especially Shaq. He dwarfs everyone around him, including fellow NBA players. The Celtics won in an exciting finish- the Heat managed to whittle away at a Cetlics 15-point lead and went up by a point with less than a minute on the clock. Paul Pierce scored with 25 seconds remaining, and Dwayne Wade missed the final shot, resulting in a final score of 92-91 and the Celtics' eighth consecutive victory. One of the highlights of the game was watching KG post up on Shaq during the second half. In fact, there were several future hall-of-famers on the floor on Friday night: KG, Shaq, Ray Allen, Paul Pierce, and perhaps Alonzo Mourning. Oh, and Scalabrine, obviously.

Saturday- Maria and I attended an afternoon performance of the Moscow Cats Theater. Basically, it's a Russian circus act composed of several trained housecats, one dog, and a few clowns. And it was just as bizarre as it sounds. The cats performed tricks like walking across a tightrope, balancing on a rolling ball, or jumping from platform to platform. The felines were far more impressive than the Russian clowns, who did some juggling and dancing, all to a strange techno soundtrack. The show was definitely geared towards children, and the kids in the audience seemed to be having a great time. For me, it was rather entertaining but more odd than anything else, but unfortunately, flash photography was forbidden (it disrupts the cats' concentration), so you'll have to take my word for it. Saturday night, my roommate Ern and I met our friends Neal and Jess for dinner and drinks at Emmets. I had the shepherd's pie and it was warm and delightful.

Sunday- Woke up early and went for a run along the beach, and now I'm in the lab playing with radioactivity.

Complementary Pilaf

Test your vocabulary at FreeRice.com - ten grains of rice are donated to U.N. food programs for every correct word.

So addictive.

List #36....Things You Should Point Out To Strangers

Inspired by Sarah's "It's OK To Tell" campaign, I decided to make a list of things you should tell someone, anyone, even a complete stranger, to save them the anguish of discovering something is amiss, and then wondering for how long and how many people noticed but didn't say anything.

You should politely point out:

1. Food stuck in teeth.

2. Toilet paper on the bottom of the shoe.

3. A terrible sunburn, when in progress. (My sister hates my compulsion to tell strangers at the beach that they are getting sunburnt. But they'll thank me later, when they don't have melanoma.)

4. Skirt tucked into pantyhose.

5. Shirt is inside out (although I might be the only person on Earth who frequently wears clothing inside out, entirely by accident. It happened again last week, and I didn't notice until late afternoon. Throw me a frickin' bone, people!)

6. Smeared makeup/ lipstick on teeth.

For the next two, you may be more selective of whom you tell.

7. Unzipped fly. No need to tell the creepy stranger of opposite sex on the bus, or your boss, because that's just awkward.

8. Booger in nose (or elsewhere). Reserved for good friends only.

Anything I'm forgetting?

Concert Review: Yo La Tengo

Last night, I saw Yo La Tengo perform at the Museum of Fine Arts. For those of you unfamiliar with them, do not be fooled by the Spanish name (which actually hails from a baseball anecdote- read the story here); they're an American trio who have been on the indie rock scene since 1984. On their current "Freewheelin" tour, they are playing interactive sets in small venues, taking questions and requests from the audience. The small auditorium at the MFA was the perfect spot for such and event- people were close enough to ask questions and be heard, and the sound is fantastic. I caught the second of two shows and was very impressed by the band- the have a unique, ethereal sound, and handled the spontaneity of the setting adeptly. Occasionally, someone would request a song they hadn't played in years, or a cover of another group's work, and after a brief consultation with each other ("hey, this one's in G, right? No, it goes like this, in C."), they would play it perfectly. Ira Kaplan fielded most of the questions, with humor and a natural rapport with the audience.

Honestly, it's hard not to admire talented musicians who have been at it for over 20 years, despite a relative lack of mainstream success. Especially when give their albums titles like I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass.

Ch-ch-changes

First Boston.com, now Hotmail? What is up with the web redesigns?

I hate the new Hotmail! One of the reasons why I never switched to gmail is that I didn't want to have to get used to a new inbox set-up, and Hotmail is forcing me to do so, regardless.

Lazy people dislike change.

'Tis the season....

...for dangerous toys!



Some people look forward to candy canes, snowfall, and Santa. I, on the other hand, eagerly await the announcement of the annual 10 Worst Toys list published by W.A.T.C.H. (World Against Toys Causing Harm, that's right!) When it comes to identifying potential hazards, their vigilance is unrelenting! For example, take a look at #4, a Dora the Explorer lamp.....cute, but comes with POTENTIAL FOR ELECTRIC SHOCK AND BURN INJURIES!

The Rubber Band Shooter (#10) looks pretty fun, but W.A.T.C.H. reminds us that "Rubber bands should never be sold as toys, and have the potential to cause serious eye injuries."

Weekend Report

So I'm a little delayed on the posting, but I spent the holiday weekend in Eagles Mere, Pennsylvania, with a group of my college friends. My friend Teri's family owns a vacation house there, and we went together for the first time in 1998, during our senior year in college. We went again in 2005 for Teri and Dan's joint bachelor/bachelorette party. On this visit, we talked about what had changed and what had remained the same since the our first trip there, nine years ago. Of the various facts, we were most impressed when we realized that all of our parents are still alive and still married to each other.

Friday- Drove in from Boston, arriving very late because of the snow (!) we encountered in upstate NY and PA.

Saturday- Slept in, walked around for a bit, then started in on the wine. We played Cranium, which is, first of all, not named Brainiac (which I kept calling it for some unknown reason). I had never played it before and it was a lot of fun- sort of a combination of Trivial Pursuit, Pictionary, charades, and a crossword puzzle. I did learn that it is best to diversify the talent of your team; Teri's husband Dan and I were partners and were both good at the word games and trivia, but absolutely terrible at the "Star Performer" category. Well, part of it was bad luck, like my having to act out the word "magnetism" and Dan guessing "magnet." After the board games, we had pork loin for dinner and celebrated Mary Laf's birthday at midnight, with more wine and chocolate chip cookies.

This is what 31 looks like:

Sunday- Slept in again, went for a walk around the lake, and then took a trip to Nacho Island.

Maria had brought a sewing project for us and taught us all how to make lavender eye pillows. The photos show us hard at work, wearing our crafting hats, then relaxing with the finished project.

The evening events included chili and beer, timer photos, and another board game: Apples to Apples.

Monday- Said goodbye to Eagles Mere and each other and drove back to Boston. Overall, it was a great weekend.

No, not on strike

I realize that the posting has been rather sparse around these parts, but I've had sort of a rough grad student week. I gave my annual departmental seminar on my research on Monday, and it went really well. So, I was completely unprepared for the massive intellectual beat-down my thesis committee gave me at our meeting on Tuesday. I won't bore you all with the details (and I try to avoid blogging about work), but I'm coming to terms with the fact that it looks like I have another full year to go.

Tomorrow, I'm headed to rural Pennsylvania to meet up with college friends for a relaxing weekend filled with food, wine, board games, and conversation. It couldn't have come at a better time.

Celtic Pride

Last night, I attended the Celtics thrashing of the Denver Nuggets. Pierce, KG, and Ray Allen looked fantastic, and it was an absolute domination- the score was 77-38 at halftime, and the bench guys saw a lot of action in the second half.

Some notes from the game:

The Garden was quieter than I expected. I think fans are still unused to watching a good team, so everyone is more awed than anything else.

When Carmelo decided to wear an arm sleeve and headband, do you think he ran it by AI first, like "Hey, Allen, is it cool if I get a matching arm sleeve?" or do you think he just showed up one day sporting matching accessories?

Kevin Youkilis and Mike Vrabel were both at the game. Neither one was wearing any Nuggets apparel (*cough* LeBron).

At one point, Ray Allen, Tony Allen, and Allen Iverson were all on the court at the same time.

We did stay for the Elliot Yamin concert held immediately after the game, and I was highly amused that the American Idol R and B star bears a striking resemblance to my friend JR. Seriously.

On our way out, we snuck in an Employees Only door and made our way towards the locker rooms (hey, if a priest can stalk Conan O'Brien, I can stalk Allen Iverson). A cop finally noticed us and directed us to the waiting area, where friends and family, as well as few fans, were congregated. We said hi to ML Carr and chatted for a bit the father of Glen Davis (aka Big Baby's Daddy). We saw all of the Celtics players come out but weren't feeling quite obnoxious enough to talk to them. Plus, my camera had run out of batteries. I did manage to get a photo of MJ, Nikki, and myself, though.

Book release

Last year, my photographer friend Jorg participated in an exhibit on American POWs in World War II entitled Journey Out of Darkness. (Here's a Boston Globe article about Jorg and the project). I went to the opening at the National Heritage Museum and was very moved by the pictures as well as the stories, and especially by the presence of several of the featured veterans who were also in attendance. Following the success of the exhibition, Jorg and writer Hal LaCroix were given a book deal, and their book Journey Out of Darkness: The Real Story of American Heroes in Hitler's POW Camps--An Oral History has just been published.

There are a couple of upcoming events for the book.

Tuesday, November 6th at the Harvard Coop in Harvard Square. 7PM.

Tuesday, November 13th at Newbury College in Brookline. 7PM.

Movie Review: Gone Baby Gone

Last night, I saw Gone Baby Gone, the new Boston crime drama directed by Ben Affleck. The plot, based upon the novel by Mystic River author Dennis Lehane, begins with the kidnapping of a little girl from a grimy Dorchester neighborhood. Although the police are working on the case, the aunt and uncle of the missing girl hire local private investigators Patrick Kenzie and Angela Gennaro to "augment the investigation" using their neighborhood contacts. The story becomes more complicated when they learn that missing girl's mother, a low-life cokehead brilliantly portrayed by Amy Ryan, recently ripped off a Haitian gang leader. I don't want to give away more of the plot, but it does take Patrick and Angela on a ride through the seediest parts of Boston and culminates in an ethical dilemma that will leave you pondering.

Overall, it's a captivating and gritty film. Although Gone Baby Gone lacks the smoothness and flash of The Departed and Mystic River, it exceeds both of those films in subtlety and authenticity. Affleck knew what he was doing when he cast his younger brother Casey in the lead role and chose locals like Jill Quigg for smaller parts. Most of the movie was filmed locally, including a scene set around the corner from my apartment at Murphy's Law. You can even see my house in the background of a rooftop scene. Unfortunately for the film, it was released the same weekend in which the Red Sox were playing in the World Series, so the opening didn't generate much buzz locally. However, it did receive excellent reviews (Boston Globe review here) and may end up with a couple of Oscar nominations.

Opening Night!

Of the many sports and teams I follow and enjoy, I only have one true love:

The Boston Celtics.

KG has long been one of my favorite NBA players, and it really is a joyful sight to see him in the green.

The Celtics start tonight at home against the Wizards.

The only downside is that for the first time in years, I won't be attending the opening night game, because I wasn't able to get tickets. However, I will be at Game 2 (vs. Denver...and AI) next week.

This could be your lawyer

Congratulations to my roommate Ern (esq.), who passed the Massachusetts bar!

I've also hear a rumor that friend and DCoE reader Beth gave birth to a baby girl named Whitney, but am eagerly awaiting confirmation and photos.

A test of my skills

This morning, I received an email from someone, unknown to me, who had read my Good at, Bad at post where I bragged about my cryptoquote deciphering ability.

It was a plea for help with the following cryptoquote:

BDF VID'L RBOT NL DB VID'L RBOT; RF LABSQT ZSNFYQX AFIO CBYA LNTFL. - UBFYAF

Of course, my first thought was "Oh my gosh....what if I can't solve it? Then I'll be a braggart and a liar! I haven't done one of these in a long time. What if my powers have faded?"

My fears were unwarranted. It took about ten minutes, but I cracked it.

In case anyone else wants to give it a go, I'll post the answer later today in the comments.

Happy Halloween!

The tiger and pumpkin are my nieces, Nora and Maggie.

In other news.....

Congratulations to Lori and Rob on the birth of their daughter, Julia Rose!

I cooked a real meal for the first time in ages...I really enjoy cooking, but for the past few months, I've been getting home so late that I'm living off microwaved tortillas with cheese. And beer.

I tried out one of Sarah's recipes from The Pink Shoe Cookbook: Pork Chops with Apple Stuffing. Delicious and very tasty!

Some recent statistics.....

Number of times I've almost burned down my apartment over the past week = 3

(1. left the iron on overnight. and it's one of those old ones that doesn't turn off automatically. 2. left a candle burning. 3. this morning, I put a kettle on the stove to boil water for tea and oatmeal. I waited, and waited, and still, no whistle. After about twenty minutes, I realized something strange was going on, and went to check the kettle. Turns out I never put any water in it, so now the empty kettle was burning hot and starting to warp and turn black. Awesome. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?)

Number of people who have made a "happy ending" comment after I mention that I'm getting a massage today (for the pinched nerve, which is much better but still smarting a bit) = 2

Percentage of times that I've laughed at happy ending comments = 100

Champions!

Congratulations to the Boston Red Sox, the 2007 World Series Champions! Boston.com has some great photo galleries posted.

Weekend Report

The Good- Attended a Halloween party at Maria's. A surprising percentage of people had no idea who I was supposed to be. C'mon, DCOE readers, isn't it obvious? Maria's sister Carmen was in town with her baby Jason, who is adorable and very good natured- the scary costumes didn't even make him cry.

My favorite costumes were Maria and Carmen's second outfits, masked and caped Mexican wrestlers.

The Bad: I was house-sitting for my parents so I spent most of the weekend camped out on the sofa in the suburbs and taking care of the elderly family dog.

The Ugly: OhmyGodyouguys.....I have a pinched nerve in my neck/shoulder and it hurts SO FUCKING BAD. The problem started earlier this week- I've been feeling pretty stressed lately (departmental seminar and thesis committee coming up), and I have the tendency to clench up and draw in my shoulders when I'm anxious. I was doing it in my sleep and all week, and my shoulders, neck, and collarbone have been sore. Last night, I fell asleep on the couch while watching the Sox and I must have exacerbated it, because it has been extremely painful all day. I sat out the second half of my soccer game, not because the soccer was making it worse (it didn't hurt any more than when I was standing still, so I figured that I might as well play), but because I was so distracted by the pain that I was playing like crap. I've been taking ibuprofen all day and it's feeling a little bit better. Does anyone have any advice? As far as I know, there's not much one can do and it should resolve on its own. I'm thinking about getting a massage or going to a physical therapist or something to see if they can loosen it up at all. I'm also considering popping a few of the family dog's prescription painkillers, but haven't stooped that low. Yet.

Anyways, fingers crossed for tonight, Sox fans!

There's only one Blogtober

Last night, I attended the second Blogtoberfest, organized once again by our fearless leader, Jenny. I had a great time- there were a ton of people there, and everyone was incredibly friendly. Maybe this is what it's like to go out to a bar in Kansas.... "Hi! My name is Eileen. Nice to meet you!"...except everyone believes in evolution.

*warning, linkfest ahead*

Although I didn't circulate much from my station right between the food and the bar, I did get the opportunity to meet and chat with several bloggers, like Sarah who is hilarious and awesome and I love both of her blogs. Her cooking blog features many pumpkin recipes in addition to Adventures in Odd Meats. I chatted briefly with occasional commenter Tom and got to meet his girlfriend Samantha, also a blogger, who didn't seem too weirded out by the fact that I knew a lot about her. "Oh, you recently moved here and you work in transplants, right?" My hobbies include blogging...and stalking! The big star of the evening was Adam, the mastermind behind Universal Hub, a website that compiles the best of Boston Blogland and is frequented by most of the bloggers in the area. The last post of mine that Adam linked to was the petri dish experiment, which led to the following exchange:

Ulli: You seem familiar to me. How do I know you?
Me: Maybe from Universal Hub?
Ulli: I'm the one who got dumped in a text message!
Me: I'm the one who spit on a petri dish!

Mystery solved.

I spoke with several more people, like Ryan from Philly and her coworker Jon, whose URLs I can't remember because I am a bad, bad person. I did find another basketball fan, AJ, who is the founder of the popular basketball blog Hoops Writers. His blog was originally named Mad In March, but he was forced to rename it because he was sued by the NCAA (yikes!). He also has tickets to half of the Celtics games this season (so if you're reading this, AJ, and you ever need someone to bring to a game, look no further).

I still don't have a good answer to the question all bloggers ask each other: "So, what do you blog about?"

Many people are much more focused. They blog about technology, about writing, or even about identity theft. My response to the question generally went like this "Oh, I don't know, all sorts of stuff, I guess. It's a mish-mash (mish-mash!?! who says mish-mash? I mean, besides the elderly?). Things that I think are funny or interesting. Sometimes I write book and movie reviews. I like it when animals from different species are friends."

To cap off an already fun evening, the Red Sox won Game 2. Hooray!

P.S. I took that blurry photo of the Prudential Center last night. Whoever first did that back in 2004 was a genius!

P.P.S. Am I the only one who keeps thinking that the announcers are saying "Iraqis" whenever they say "The Rockies?"

Tonight, Tonight

Blogtoberfest is tonight at the Pour House starting at 6PM. Yay!

Red Sox looked fantastic in Game 1. So fantastic that I went to bed before the game had ended because I was fully confident that they would win. In previous seasons, I would have stayed up to the very end, knowing that there was always a chance that something could go very, very wrong.

Fingers crossed for another win tonight.

Pretty* in Pink

Here's a team photo of my co-ed soccer team, who has the distinction of being the only team in a league of 48 teams to be assigned the intimidating hue of "dark azalea," which is apparently code for bubble gum pink. We finished our regular season last night with a win, that put us in first place in our division for playoffs.

*by Pretty, I mean 100% Badass

Good at, Bad at

I'm riding the meme train- inspired by Stacey and started by Sarah. Here is the part where I confess that I hate the term "meme" because I don't know how to pronounce it. So many possibilities....."meem," "mimi," or (en español) "may-may." I first encountered the word reading the Selfish Gene during Freshman year of college, and it's been taunting me ever since. Hey, meme, why don't you go order yourself a gyro.

Onto the, um, thing where a bunch of people answer the same little questions.

List 5 things you are good at (and give a tip about one of them, if possible).

1. Knowing what time it is, without looking at a clock. I attribute this skill to the fact that I have never worn a watch.

2. Shuffling playing cards. During the summer after fifth grade, I made it a goal to be good at shuffling cards- you know, do the bridge thing and make them whir like a Vegas dealer. (or croupier, if you prefer). I practiced for weeks. It worked.

3. Parallel parking. Here's a tip: look over your right shoulder as you initially back in, and cut the wheel exactly when the rear left corner of your vehicle is aligned with the front left corner of the vehicle behind you. Works like a charm.

4. Organizing people. Hmmm, I'm not bossy per se, but I tend to fall into a leadership role when in a group setting. For example, I've ended up being the captain of most sports teams that I've joined, and it certainly isn't due to my athletic ability. I hope I don't sound full of myself (Hey, y'all, I'm a born leader!), I just think it's because I'm good at organizing people- part motivator, part delegator, part compromiser (compromiser? more like word inventor.). It's typical of Libras- that's why we make good diplomats.

5. Cryptoquotes- A word game in which a quotation has been encoded using single letter substitution - i.e., each letter of the alphabet has been replaced by a different letter or a number. I've never encountered one that I couldn't solve. The CIA should be all over my shit- I'm a code breaking savant!

List five things you are bad at:

1. Determining whether clothing is wet or dry. I completely lack this ability.

2. Non-shoe sports. This category of activities includes any sport in which you put something on (or under) your feet that is not a shoe, sneaker, or cleat. Prime examples include ice skating, skiing, snowboarding, rollerblading, rollerskating, surfing, and skateboarding. I am downright awful at all such activities.

3. Remembering anniversaries. I have a decent memory for birthdays. I might be a day or two late, but I'll remember. But anniversaries? Not at all. Every year, my mother gets mad at me for not acknowledging my parents' anniversary. My sister Eri had the best rebuttal- "How am I supposed to remember? I didn't go to your wedding." Maybe if I ever get married, I might remember my own, but we're talking two pretty big maybes.

4. Posing for head shots. In 95% of my identification cards, I look foolish, partially undressed (I posed for my Peace Corps I.D. when I was wearing a strappy tank top, but the way the photo was cropped, you couldn't see the straps, so I looked naked) or obese. In the other 5%, I look fat, crazed, and potentially dangerous. Unfortunately, that 5% is my most recent passport. Fortunately, none of this bothers me at all, so I don't ever ask to retake a bad photo, which is probably why I have some many unfortunate ones.

5. Sudoku. Good at letters, bad at numbers. It probably isn't even that hard, but when I look at a sudoku puzzle, all I see are a bunch of numbers that I don't feel like dealing with.

Weekend Report

Friday- Caro and I stopped by Open Studios in the South End and sort of crashed a party by accident. Realizing our mistake, and the fact that everyone else in the room was so weird (artist, but not in that edgy cool way, more in the freak way) that we seemed like oddballs due to our comparative normalcy. Then, I went home and watched Layer Cake. It's a fairly typical British mobster film. The protagonist is a clean cut cocaine dealer, who plans to retire and walk away from the business. Unfortunately, plans go awry as he ends up the targeted by a Serbian gangster, among other subplots. It's a stylistically pleasing and fun movie, and I always enjoy watching Daniel Craig, but overall pretty formulaic.

Saturday- Caro and I went hiking and climbed Mt. Greylock, the highest mountain in Massachusetts at 3,491 ft. (oh, how Colorado laughs at our puny mountains!). It took us about 4.5 hours to get to the summit and back- that's including the hour or so during which we got lost. We were following the trail, and all of the sudden we were climbing through branches and over rocks and we realized that we hadn't seen a blue dot in a long time, and that we didn't seem to be on any sort of trail anymore. We backtracked and ran into some other hikers and told them about the disappearing trail. We formed a makeshift expedition party and went looking for the blue dots. Turns out that the trail crossed as stream that had risen due to recent rainfalls, and one of the other hikers spotted a blue dot on the other side, so we got back on track fairly quickly. We stopped at a pumpkin farm and a diner on our way home. I was exhausted, but stayed up to watch the Red Sox game with my roommate Ern. Here's a recap of the best moment of Game 6:

Bases loaded. J.D. Drew is at bat. Strike, ball, pause.

Me: J.D. Drew, if you hit a grand slam right now, all is forgiven.

Ern: I will forgive you! The City of Boston will forgive you!

Next pitch, he swings and BAM! GRAND SLAM!

Ern and I cheer and jump around and give each other sticky high fives because Ern was in the process of peeling apples for an apple crisp.

End.

Sunday- Played soccer, worked, then watched Game 7. Holy crap! The Red Sox are going to the World Series!

Snakes in the john!

Sounds like the stuff of urban legend, but it's true:

7 foot python found in Brooklyn toilet.

Now only if it made friends with a canary, it would be the Best Story Ever!

Concert Review: Spoon at the Roxy

Last night, I saw Spoon perform in front of a small crowd at the Roxy. Apparently, the Roxy was being punished by the city for some sort of violation, so their capacity was reduced for a time period overlapping the Spoon concert. Which is too bad, because the show sold out quickly, and the band would have been able to sell a lot more tickets had they been permitted. Nevertheless, the show was great! I had never seen them live before, and I was very impressed by frontman Britt Daniel (even though my blurry photo of him is not very impressive), who plays lead guitar, sings, and writes the majority of their songs. He has great stage presence and it's immediately obvious that although Spoon is a group act, Daniel is definitely the driving creative force behind their success. They played a mix of older songs and tracks from their new album Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, including my favorite song from that album:

mp3: the underdog

I was still in a good mood this morning after the fun show, until I walked out my front door and saw my car being towed. (stupid street cleaning!) At least the tow truck driver let me ride to the lot with him, so although I'm now $150 lighter, I was spared the anguish of running around town trying to figure out what happened to my car.

Foiled again!

For two days in a row, I've gone to a Dunkin' Donuts specifically to purchase a pumpkin muffin (for a limited time only), and they've been sold out!

Grrr.....

For the record, the pumpkin donut sucks and is not an adequate substitute.

Weekend Report

Friday- Celebrated Nikki's birthday by watching the Sox win Game 1 of the ALCS at Game On. That bar has always reminded me of a glorified boys' dorm room...watching television while simultaneously listening to loud music, in my experience, is a strictly male habit. Girls never do this. It baffles me.

Saturday- Cleaned my apartment, worked in the lab, stopped by a housewarming party, watched some more Sox.

Sunday- Ran the Bay State Half Marathon in Lowell. Originally, a few friends and I were going to do it, but everyone else opted out. I almost bailed as well, since I barely trained- my knee had started bothering me, so I took a couple of weeks off from running. However, it was a nice, fall day, so I decided to give it a go, and I was hoping to finish under two hours. The course winds through Lowell along the river and ends with a lap around the outfield at the baseball stadium. When the finish line was in sight, the clock was at 1:59, so I booked it in and finished at 1:59:52.

Monday- Not technically part of the weekend, but I saw the Smashing Pumpkins play at the Orpheum last night. I rarely listen to them now, but I LOVED them back in the day, and I had never seen them live before. Only two of the original members, Billy Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlin, are still around, but they played a lot of their old hits and sounded great. They didn't play their biggest hit (and my favorite), "Disarm," but did play a couple songs from almost every album, and Billy Corgan (who is like seven feet tall. I had no idea.) did a solo, acoustic set as well. Overall, it was definitely worth missing the Red Sox game for the show, and my 15-year old self would have been quite jealous. Here's the Globe review of the Sunday night show.

Song of the Day: A Boy Named Sue

So, the other day I was listening to music and the Johnny Cash song "A Boy Named Sue" started playing. I've always loved that song, and I started to wonder why exactly I liked it so much. Sure, the lyrics tell an interesting story, and it's got a catchy rhythm, but there's something more, something unique to it. All of the sudden, it hit me. It's the rhyme scheme! (Let's just pretend that people who mentally envision rhyme schemes while listening to music are cool, OK?)

For example:

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen,
I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I'd search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.

It's

A
A
B
C
C
B

I can't recall ever hearing a similar pattern in a song. Frankly, it's genius. I did a little more research (i.e. a Google search) and discovered that the song was written by the poet Shel Silverstein.

Oh, for a long time, I only had the censored version, which contains the following line:

"Cause I'm the BLEEEEEP that named you "Sue.'"

I assumed that, because of the context and all, the bleeped out word was mother*&^#er. It's not. It's "son of a bitch." I guess the big MF was a little too gangsta for the 1960s.

And now, for your listening pleasure:

mp3: A Boy Named Sue, by Johnny Cash.

My filthy mouth

Last week at work, my co-worker Vibhu and I decided to see who had more bacteria in his or her mouth. We each spit onto an agar plate and placed them in the incubator overnight. (oh, by the way, we're disgusting.) The verdict? Umm...I had WAY more bacteria in my saliva than Vibhu. We had placed a $5 bet on the outcome, but since he later admitted to using mouthwash that morning, I think it might have been a set up. Either way, I hope that you enjoy the photo of our oral flora....now 100% coliform-free!

How Manny Became Manny

Via Universal Hub, I came across a post filled with gems about one of my favorite Red Sox players. In 1991, the New York Times featured an 18-year old high school baseball phenomenon named Manny Ramirez in an article about baseball and the immigrant community of Washington Heights. The blog Soxfan vs Yanksfan compiled some more stories from Manny's youth:

June 3, 1991

"In Washington Heights, people are already telling Manny Ramirez stories. He will be remembered as the young man who worked harder than anyone else. He woke up at 4:30 A.M. to fit in his roadwork and practice before school, spent his weekday afternoons with his high school team and weekends in Brooklyn with his sandlot team. In the evenings, he swung a bat over and over in his apartment (without ever breaking a window). ..."

I've always believed that the Boston media has been undeservedly harsh on Manny, so it's nice to read these old stories and discover that when he was young, he was admired for his work ethic and humility in addition to his ability to hit a baseball.

Good luck tonight, Manny (he reads DCOE, he just doesn't like to comment) and go Red Sox!

Belated Weekend Report

Busy week at work....but here are some photos from last weekend. Friday night, my roommate Ern hosted a fabulous birthday party for me at a candlepin bowling alley near our apartment in Southie. I'd link to it, but it doesn't have a website. It was a great time, even with that weird bowling alley smell. Here are a few photos. Since I didn't get a good one of me with Ern, I will substitute one of me with her brother, because according to one of my co-workers, "They look alike and they both talk like pirates."

Maria and Jamie gave me the most
creative gift. Because I had griped about being broke, single, and still in school, MJ gave me a scratch ticket, signed me up for speed dating, and made me a diploma. Jamie even redesigned the Sideways movie poster.

After the bowling party, we hit a couple of local bars and celebrated Manny's winning home run. (my friend Jen always celebrates baseball with a glass of white zin. Hey, I don't judge.)

On Saturday, my college roommate Jossy, who was in town visiting, and I spent the day lying on the couch, interrupted by brief bouts of activity: family lunch, a trip to the nail salon, and Ethiopian dinner with Ern and Caro at Addis Red Sea. (so good! I ended up going back there last night with my uncle and his girlfriend...who are vegans and loved all of the vegetarian options.)









The fun continued on Sunday- Jossy, Nikki, Meg, and I headed to Gillette Stadium to watch the Patriots defeat the Browns. Man, the Patriots are so good this year that even in a game when they don't play very well (like last Sunday), the opposition still never even had a chance. We tailgated (marinated chicken and turkey kielbasa...high class.), enjoyed the game, exchanged words with an idiot Browns fan, who walked into a trash barrel while she was trying to intimidate us, and did some more birthday celebrating.

Overall, I had a fantastic weekend- thanks again to everyone who came out to celebrate or sent their birthday greetings!

Interspecies Friendship Alert!

Golden retriever nurses orphaned kitten. Everybody say "Awwwww..." (via Rob)

And for all of you graduate students out there, the New York Times recently ran an article on the lengthy quagmire that is graduate school. Yikes...an average of 8.2 years? The hard science track is quite different from the soft sciences and humanities...first of all, it's a smidgen briefer (average is more like 6.2), plus, the actual writing of the dissertation is more of an afterthought and not the major hurdle- it's the experimental data and journal publications that matter, and they take a combination of time, effort, and luck to generate.

Birthday Party

So, my party was Friday night. Not that many people came, (didn't you guys get the e-vite?) but it was still an okay time, I guess.

In the news

First off, I loved this headline from the Globe:

Credit union employees foil heist, sit on alleged robber.

and I love the opening sentence even more:

"A robbery at a credit union today in Fall River was thwarted by three female employees who pinned an alleged assailant to the ground and sat on him until police arrived, authorities said."

While listening to the Red Sox game on Wednesday night, I was surprised to hear a commenter mention that Mike Lowell's family defected from Cuba. Based on his name, I had always believed that he was part of the Southern redneck Red Sox contingent, and not the Carribean latino one. Anways, earlier this week, the Globe ran a feature article about him. He's led an interesting life and faced many challenges, including a battle with cancer.

Thirty.

Today is my thirtieth birthday. When I was little, whenever it was my birthday, my mom would ask me "How does it feel?" to be eight or whatever age I was turning. I would concentrate to see if I felt different in any way...older, wiser. But I never noticed any changes.

So, how does it feel to be thirty? Well, it's all a matter of perspective. On the one hand, I'm broke, single, and still in grad school (five years and counting). I drive a used minivan and most of my clothes still come from Old Navy. And now I'm thirty. So according to most societal parameters, I'm basically a Y chromosome away from being played by Paul Giamatti in the movie version.

Despite all this, I like my life. I am fortunate to have such great friends and family. I have a lot of fun and still feel like every day is an adventure. I'm healthy, and for the most part, pretty happy.

I still don't feel any different, though.

Iran so far

Have you seen the new SNL video making fun of the president of Iran?
"You can deny the holocaust all you want, but you can't deny that there's something between us."
SO FUNNY.

On an entirely unrelated note, if you're ever at a party and there's a bowl of mixed nuts right next to a bowl of olives, before you say "Yum. I love nuts!" and stick your hand in them, you might to confirm that they are indeed nuts and not slimy, discarded, chewed-on olive pits.

p.s. GO SOX!!!