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Science made fun by Bobby McFerrin

This little snippet is so incredibly cool! Bobby McFerrin demonstrates how the human mind intrinsically recognizes the pentatonic scale.

World Science Festival 2009: Bobby McFerrin Demonstrates the Power of the Pentatonic Scale from World Science Festival on Vimeo.

YouTube has lots of fun Bobby McFerrin videos. Check 'em out!!

Birthday cupcakes

For M's birthday a couple of weeks ago, we decided that we wanted to celebrate a deux, and I promised to make cupcakes, instead of buying a birthday cake. I looked around the internet for different recipes, and finally settled on white chocolate cupcakes with raspberry filling from Good Things Catered, one of my favorite cooking blogs. However, I did not want to use shortening in the filling (shortening still kind of creeps me out), and Sharone was kind enough to forward me a low-fat, non-shortening recipe, so I used that instead. Then, I searched around for easy and waist-line friendly frosting recipes and found a chocolate cream cheese frosting (forget where). I was so excited to get a-baking, until I realized that I had pretty much none of the necessary tools. For one, I did not own a mixer. So off I went to Sur la Table, and back I came with my tail between my legs. Obviously, they were under the impression that money is falling out of my ears, because the cheapest hand mixer they had was around $70. So off I went to Target, and came home with a handy-dandy hand mixer which I already fantasize about trading in for a stand mixer. Sadly, this will probably only come to my counter when money is falling out of my ears...

I also did not have: cupcake paper cups, cornstarch, chocolate (white or milk), sprinkles, cream cheese, filling bags/tips ... basically anything involved in making my cupcakes! The only ingredients I had were flour and sugar... enough to make a sugary paste, but not enough for super duper birthday cupcakes!

After much fun was had exploring the baking isle at Safeway, I was revved and ready to bake!

Everything but the kitchen sink

Fresh out of the oven. Smelled delicious!

Now comes the filling! A bit messy but sooo yummy!

Ooey, gooey

Finished product

Recipe, as adapted by moi:

White Chocolate Cupcakes with Raspberry Filling

Cake Ingredients:
8 oz. Ghirardelli white chocolate chips
1 3/4 c. all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 c. sugar
1/2 c. (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/4 c. oil
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1/2 c. canned unsweetened coconut milk
3 large egg whites

Directions:
-Preheat oven to 325 degrees and prepare muffin tins with paper liners.
-Place white chocolate in metal bowl set over pan of barely simmering water.
-Stir until melted and smooth (this was really fun!).
-In medium bowl, whisk flour, baking powder, and salt.
-In bowl of stand mixer, beat sugar, butter, and vanilla until blended and fluffy, about 2 minutes.
-Slowly add in oil while running and mix until combined.
-Add hot white chocolate to sugar mixture; stir to combine.
-Add flour mixture in 3 additions alternately with coconut milk in 2 additions, beating batter just to combine between additions. (I think I could have gotten better quality coconut milk, or maybe I'm just not used to its texture, but it was kind of clumpy).
-Using clean dry beaters, beat egg whites in medium bowl until soft peaks form. (umm white peaks didn't really form... this is where I need more practice)
-Gently fold egg white mixture into batter.
-Divide batter among muffin cups (about 1/4 cup each).
-Bake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 25 minutes.
-Cool completely. (try really really hard not to eat the cupcakes)
-Using melon baller, ball out small portion of the top of each cupcake and discard. (or, as I did, EAT).
-Fill disposable bag with raspberry filling and pipe into scooped out portion of each cupcake until just reaching height of top of the cupcake. (this was a big mess!! definitely need practice with the filling bag!)
-Ice as desired. (I made a chocolate cream cheese icing that turned out a bit runny but I did not use as much sugar as the recipe had called for. I think that would have made it stiffer). I also sprinkled colored sugar on each cupcake for a more festive, birthday-ish feel :)

Raspberry filling:

1 1/2 cups raspberries
1 tablespoon cornstarch
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 cup sugar
a small handful of Ghirardelli milk chocolate chips

In a small sauce pan, combined all of the ingredients and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Let cool. Take little scoops out of each cupcake with the fruit scooper thing, and using the frosting bag, inject a bit of the filling into each cupcake. Mine turned out a bit messy but no biggie. The filling turned out tangy and very raspberry-ish, which was perfect!

Gourmand ambitions

Something very exciting has been happening lately -- amidst a subtle and ongoing midlife crisis, I have discovered that I really enjoy cooking and baking; this is probably a felicitous discovery considering how much I like eating!

Since domesticity has never been among my strong suits, at first I was surprised by my own epicuriosity. I blame three people for this new interest: my mother, M, and Sharone. While my parents visited, my mother cooked almost daily, reminding me of how much I love her food. At first, I didn't understand why she wanted to spend so much time slaving away cooking, especially with some of the more time-consuming dishes she made. But then, I started realizing that cooking wasn't just meant to be a means of feeding us, but rather an expression of her creativity, ability, usefulness... in short, identity. When you cook something, you put yourself into that food, and it becomes a signal to those eating the meal that you took the time and effort and pleasure to create this food for them. You are nourishing them in a very particular way - your way, and at the same time telling them that they are important enough for you to cook for them, and that you are important enough to be trusted with this responsibility. I guess I am realizing that when not done out of sheer necessity, cooking can become an outlet for one's personality much like creative writing, painting, playing an instrument can. But unlike all these other outlets, it yields tasty, delicious food!

The second person I blame for my newly discovered passion is M. If he wasn't so supportive of all my whacky ideas, and didn't encourage me to do whatever it is that makes me happy, and didn't like to eat as much as I do, I may have been prevented from obsessively creating Amazon wish lists of all my new "must-have" cooking and baking needs! Our apartment would not suddenly feel too small because it cannot house all the hundreds of spice jars, dozens of baking molds, etc etc etc that I suddenly want to spend half my paychecks on.

Thirdly, reading Sharone's blog encourages me to take chances on things I never previously wanted to make. Her amazing ability to squeeze in time to create Margarita Cupcakes and gorgeous fluffy clouds of deliciousness while juggling wedding showers, work, grad school, and life has convinced me that there is always time for a tasty treat!

I think this cooking thing is part of a bigger picture. Lately, I've been overwhelmed by new hobbies that I want to pursue, from camping and backpacking, to spin classes and running, to cooking and becoming the next finance guru (okay, that's a bit far-fetched. But I do have this fantasy of creating a super-duper portfolio that is chock full of diverse investments, and participating in conversations in which I confidently command the usage of words like "maturity," "municipal bonds," and "hedge fund.")

Wherefore these interests? Wherefore now? I blame the clock. The clock that in a voice akin to Chinese water torture tells me each day, "You are getting older." And, without magical ear plugs to shut out this evil clock, I somehow along the way decided that "older" will not mean "boring," will not mean "settled," will not mean "slow" or "fat" or "dowdy." I have decided that if fate must be left to her devices and pull me into adulthood and all the things that come with it, I will do it on my own terms.

So, for now, I spin, I run, I ache. I eat, I cook, I bake. (I couldn't help myself!)

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Ridiculousness

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Seth Grahame-Smith


My rating: 1 of 5 stars
Oh, Jane... Jane, Jane, Jane. Seriously, let me just begin by saying that the only redeeming aspect of PPZ is Austen's text.

I began this book entirely open minded, but expected it to be what it claims to be: P&P with zombies in it. I expected the characters to be the same people I fell in love with so many years ago, and I don't want to give too much away, but they simply aren't. For some reason, Seth Grahame-Smith felt compelled to provide a completely contrived and ridiculous back story to the Bennett girls -- they are trained in Chinese martial arts in China by some famous Master Liu, and entrusted to be the defenders of their sleepy little British town, which for years has been terrorized, like the rest of England, by "unmentionables" (umm, I thought that was underwear). Even Lydia is a super-duper warrior, albeit one obsessed with boys and bonnets.

Other than the ridiculous character changes, there are also really stupid plot decisions, especially one involving Mr. Collins. Poor, poor fat, insipid Mr. Collins...

Let's talk about the men for a second. Actually, let's expand and talk about the sexual undertones in PPZ. I suspect Grahame-Smith felt really proud of himself for the seventh-grade humor that stains this book like a greasy hamburger leaking oil onto an Austen classic. However, while maybe a "balls" joke may have some giggle appeal the first time around, the second, third, ad infinitum time it loses its charm. There are other lewd moments, and the most enervating thing about them is that they appear as private jokes between Lizzie and Darcy.

I am convinced that even had I not known the PP plot and characters prior to reading PPZ, I still would have found this book ridiculous. Which, I suppose is the book's main goal, but it succeeds so well as to render it baffoon-ish rather than droll.

Now all I want to do is read Pride and Prejudice and revel in the banter.

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Doing that crack cocaine thing...

This is hilarious. Senator Jeff Sessions during the Sotomayor hearings on July 16:

Things to come

1. Photo proof* of my culinary adventures, including my soon-to-become famous white chocolate, raspberry-filled, and chocolate cream cheese-frosted cupcakes.

2. Impressions of 4th of July camping trip.

3. Additions to my foot woes/whoahs series, including adventures in barefoot running and my high hopes for five-toed running shoes.

4. Discussions on upcoming events, including Kenny Chesney concert, Wharf-to-Wharf run, and possibly Harry Potter film.

5. Most likely a review of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

* Cupcake shown in banner was not made by yours truly.

#99: Grammar

Stuff white people like, #99: grammar.

Word of the day: Ridiculous

ridiculous [ri-dik-yuh-luhs]
adjective
causing or worthy of ridicule or derision; absurd; preposterous; laughable.
ORIGIN 16th century

Photo credit: Jim Wilson/NYT, appeared on front page of NYT July 12, 2009.

This poor baby looks like it's being exorcised... Why would anyone want this woman touching her infant, let alone writing on her with a probably toxic Sharpie?!?!

RIDICULOUS!

Happy Fourth of July

On July 2, 1776, after much turmoil, the Congress of the twelve colonies voted to adopt Richard Henry Lee and John Adams' resolution to declare independence from Great Britain. In a letter to his wife Abigail, Adams wrote about this momentous day that it "will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America." He followed, "I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more."

After 233 years, Adams is still right about the spirit, if not the date, of celebrating Independence Day.

The Fourth of July, much like religious holidays, is often consumed as a blind commodity than a somber celebration. Over time, the Christian Easter has somehow been stripped of the miracle of Christ's sacrifice and his rebirth, redeeming mankind. I fear to think how many people "celebrate" Easter each year without stopping for a second to think about what the holiday represents. Likewise, the Fourth of July aught to remind us of the sacrifice that people made so that the United States could become an independent state that would go on to become a beacon of strength, liberty, and honor for other countries around the world. Yes, like Adams wanted, we should fully partake in pomp and parade, bonfires, and illuminations, but always remembering what these celebrate.

The twentieth century saw the demise of empires as they had existed for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. However, the destruction of large empires did not stop the unbelievable destructive force that humans seem unable to set aside. Millions of people today suffer under oppressive regimes, cruel families, crippling self-hatred. Often, I believe, these three combine in such a way as to make possible tyrants who willingly and knowingly inflict awful conditions upon the people they are supposed to protect. Countries like Zimbabwe, North Korea, Iran, how many countless others, are transparent enough to us now, due to modern media and technology, for us to look at them, look at ourselves, and know how truly lucky we are. I feel privileged each day to wake up and know that a Mugabe will never be possible in the United States. In the song "It's America," Rodney Atkins assents that "we may not always get it right." We sure don't! But the important thing is that we at least try. In 1776, a people who had been born into colonialism thought, enough is enough. They pulled themselves up by their britches, and fought to become an independent state that above all else valued freedom. But they did not get it all right. It took many, many years, for the children of the infant country to realize even a semblance of true freedom and equality. But they tried.

Anyone who knows me at all knows that one of the things that I absolutely cannot stand is blind, stingy patriotism, in which those professing to love this country do so while simultaneously decreeing their assumed superiority of right and might over others, often others who are also Americans. To these people, I would only say that the spirit of democracy and freedom is not meant to be oppressive or dismissive, but rather focused on doing the right thing. Sometimes, doing the right thing is the harder choice to make. Actually, I think every time, doing the right thing is the harder choice to make. For the thousands of people in Iran and around the world who are voicing their objection to Ahmedinejad's blatant refusal of a democratic process, the harder choice to make was putting themselves and their families at risk while protesting in favor of the democratic process. These people inspire me to remember that choices about governance are so hard - is Moussavi the better choice? who knows? The point these people are making is that democratic process needs to determine the outcome, not the strong hand of a corrupt leader.

Below I am posting a YouTube video of Johnny Cash talking/singing about the American flag. The premise is simple, humble: an old flag has become tattered, shabby, old. But each wear and tear represents a triumph of right over blind might, of freedom over oppression. On a more personal level, I appreciate the fact that at the beginning of the clip, Johnny Cash says that he is heading out to Romania soon. I wonder when this was... I think probably the 70s, a "golden" period, if you will, of communism in Romania. Anyhoo... Johnny Cash says that regardless of where he goes abroad, as much as he enjoys it, he is always happy to be back in the States. I have to say, that I totally feel him on that. I remember flying back to California after being abroad for a couple of months at a time, and there was a feeling of relief almost at hovering over the Los Angeles freeways before landing at LAX. A feeling akin to a huge breath being released, knowing that there will definitely be more breaths to come. If that makes sense...



I would also like to share, in honor of Independence Day, the following video of Rodney Atkins' "It's America." I have a few bones to pick with this song. It's so manipulative in its pride, but it means well and is harmless. I just think it is patriotism at is silliest - being proud of empty symbols like fireflies and Chevys... But, it's also the catchiest damn song, and it kinda makes me smile when singing along... so, here you go. In honor of our great country's struggle over time to continue to grow and mature and hold on to the founding values of liberty, freedom, personal and community honor, and a stubborn refusal to back down in the face of bigger, scarier foes, I give you Rodney.


As for me, I'll be flying my American flag on our tent this weekend!

Shannara update

This just in: Arborlorn, the aforementioned elf kingdom in Terry Brooks' The Elfstones of Shannara, is located in modern-day Oregon. Thank you, Wikipedia! And thanks to imdb.com for informing me that Elfstones is set to be made into a movie directed by Mike Newell, who directed "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire."

Book Review: The Elfstones of Shannara, by Terry Brooks

The Elfstones of Shannara by Terry Brooks

My review

rating: 2 of 5 stars
**Disclaimer: LOTS OF PLOT SPOILERS!!!**



The plot of Elfstones is intriguing, the characters of the book are likable and pretty, and the world of the elves is a captivating one filled with races of men and magic of a forgotten world.

If you have no problem with the previous sentence, please stop reading this review and immediately pick up Elfstones. You will find yourself in the company OF a fun fantasy novel.

If, however, you felt your eyes itch as you read "of ___" five times in one sentence, please advise - do I finish a book I am enjoying because it is sheer fun, or do I punish Terry Brooks for terrible writing and set his novel down?

I am about half-way through The Elfstones of Shannara -- too far to walk away from now -- and I do feel invested in Wil and Amberle's plight (not, however, "in the plight of Wil and Amberle." Tery Brooks, get an editor!). The elven world is threatened by an ancient evil, and as Amberle, a young elf girl/princess and her quarter-elf companion Wil attempt to keep the evil at bay, demons unleash brutal attacks upon the elf kingdom Arborlorn.

Standard LOTR-ish plot ensues: two young and naive protagonists go on trek across lands populated by trolls, dwarves, and stick-men who pick up our protagonists and carry them across the forest (ahem, Tolkien-is-scratching-his-head). The goal: submerge a magical talisman in the fire from where the magic originates in order to prevent an evil demon army from murdering the elves and taking over their kingdom (ahem, Tolkien-is-now-giving-Brooks-the-stink-eye). The old wizard Allanon, a la Gandalf, helps the two young protagonists along their journey with, among other magic, a magical staff that wards off evil dragons (ahem, Tolkien-just-shakes-his-head). In the end, old magic must be mustered by the young protagonists, each questioning his and her own strength (ahem, oh forget it!).

Arborlorn, the elf kingdom

I know a bit about the series from a friend, and am intrigued by the interesting concept that this magical world is actually the FUTURE rather than a long-ago past. A terrible war occurred thousands of years ago (i.e., around the 20th century), and the people who waged this war are the elves' ancestors. Kinda neat, no? However, Brooks handles this SO SUBTLY that I did not really catch it and I think I'm supposed to read the whole series to truly understand what happened.

Once I finish the book, I will add some final impressions. For now, I am content with my fun fantasy world, though physically pained by the (at-times) atrocious writing.

***

After finishing this book last night:

The blatant similarities between Elfstones and LOTR are most obvious in the battle scenes and demon descriptions, but after a while, I stopped caring about plagiarism and just allowed myself to enjoy the ride. Most of the action occurs in the book's last third or so, with battle scenes that were entirely too long for my taste, and a hectic, exciting, and terrifying race against time through crazy forests. The protagonists grow into a little gang that by the end includes the beautiful Elf girl Ameberle, her protector Wil, the even more beautiful Rover (kind of like "gypsy") girl Eretria, the old man Hegel, Hegel's trusty old dog, Drifter, young Perk, and Perk's trusty old giant flying bird. Whew! There is even a fuzzy, furry, friendly little half-wit elf thrown in for kicks. Guess what, he saves the day!

The writing improves in quality as the book nears its end, perhaps because there is so much action that the writing stops trying to be cutesy and just tells the story. The action itself is riveting enough to have kept me up until 1 a.m. to finish the book, and the climax is pretty damn exciting! Suspense, surprise, the whole shebang.

Lastly, pervasive Christian allegory infuses Elfstones, but not to Narnia levels. Let's give away the story some more: Magical tree in the "Garden of Life;" apostles (the "Chosen") who tend to the tree of life, which turns out to be a symbol not only of purity but also great personal sacrifice; prodigal children abound; and so on. Having recently watched the awfulest of awful summer movies, "Terminator Salvation," I am grateful to Brooks for how he handled Christian mythology in his novel: subtle and embedded in the plot, not garishly obvious and out of place like in McG's (seriously, that's his name?!?!?) terrible of terribles.

I give Terry Brooks' Elfstones of Shannara three enthusiastic stars for effort, but am retracting one star for poor writing and occasional blatant plagiarism.


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Muddy High

I have a little secret. The Mud Run on Saturday was... great fun!

The three muddy buddies after coming out of the final mud pit, but before crossing the finish line

The day started early; actually, it started on Friday, with a flight into Burbank. We tried to go to bed at a reasonable hour, because come Saturday morning, we were up at 4 (or was it 4:30)? M's sister and her daughter came over, and together with M's mom, we piled into the minivan all sleepy-like. Los Angeles freeways are probably best experienced at 5 a.m. on Saturdays, but who really wants to do that? Anyways, the drive toward San Diego was great, smooth riding all the way. I had a couple cereal bars - Nature Valley yogurt bars beat out the Odwalla bar in the taste test - and slathered my feet in anti-blister gel. We were making fantastic time, and were two exists from Camp Pendelton with plenty of time to spare, when we decided to take a pee break at the rest stop off the freeway rather than wait until we got to the race, figuring the port-a-potties would be both crowded and gross. Well, the quick pit stop turned into a 45-minute detour, and by the time we got back on the freeway to go one more exit, the line to get off was about a mile long. We crawled on the freeway, crawled through the base entrance, crawled through the base, and crawled into a parking spot. Finally, we had arrived! We were late as all hell now, but we had arrived! We parked too close to bus it, so we walked to the entrance, which was good, as it gave us a bit of a warm-up. We got our t-shirts (yay!), checked in our bags, peed one more time in a totally disgusting port-a-potty, and finally made it to the staging area. Wow! Talk about a crowd! I knew that there were 4000 people running this race, but all of a sudden I realized, There are 4000 people running this race! We literally got in line a minute before the starting time at 9:00, just in time to sing the "Star Spangled Banner," and then we were off!!!

My number

We ran for what seemed like a quarter mile, maybe, and got hosed down by (hot) marines (this "hot marines" theme will be a recurring one, so pay attention). Now, previous to the race, I had not been excited at the thought of being soaking wet and cold and running in slushy shoes. But, wouldn't you know? It is great fun! The water wasn't as icy cold as I had expected, and with the San Diego mugginess, and the hotness of 4000 people around, it felt actually refreshing. Did we scream bloody murder? Of course! We were being hosed down by (hot) marines, for goodness' sake!

The order of the obstacles is rather fuzzy to me now, but I remember there was sad (not so fun, but not so bad), a little river crossing, another hosing down by (hot) marines, and hills. There were definitely hills on this run. "Suicide Hill" is a two-mile long incline, and I had been really nervous about it, but I've had a good coach the last few months, who encouraged me to run the hills behind Stanford with urgency, and it paid off. I was tired, and it was hard, but nothing unmanageable.

Now, the mud. Oh, the mud... it is exactly what I imagined. Sticky, thick, stenchy, wet... Kind of like cow manure in smell, and swampy mulch in texture. But the mud pits are not long enough to become truly nauseating, and the only really difficult thing about them is trying not to twist your ankles when going in and out of the pits, as you can't see where you're placing your feet, and the mud is all bumpy and slippery.

The obstacle I had been most concerned about was the reservoir crossing, but it actually turned out to be my favorite! Basically, you have to cross a football field-length water reservoir, with water about nose-height for me (blessed are the tall!). I thought it would be awful, and as I'm not a strong swimmer, I'd had visions of me drowning and having all the (hot) marines laughing at my pansiness. But I held one hand on M's shoulder, and by kinda of moon-walking and holding on, I managed to get all the way across. The only hard part was getting out. We all wanted to stay in that cool, clean, calming water. But, no, we got out and immediately started running.

Now, a word about running wet. It's not so bad, definitely not as bad as I had anticipated. Yes, your shoes squeak, but that's really all. I had on really tight clothing, so I didn't feel any wet-clothes discomfort. The only really hard part is the pebbles in the shoes, especially as they dry. While all the sand and pebbles that get in are still wet, it just feels a little rough. But once they are dry, it's like... well it's like what you'd imagine running with a shoe full of rubble would feel like. However, I discovered that it is much easier to run with many rocks in your shoe, than with just one little one. If I'm running and there's one pebble in there, I have to stop and get it out. But magically, multiply that pebble by a hundred, make my shoes wet and give me some mud in my eyes, and I can run no problem.

On our race, there were no tires or hay bales obstacles, which I have heard occasionally show up. Maybe because it was the first Mud Run of the season, or maybe there were too many people, but they weren't there. There was a pipe-like tunnel thing, which I did not crawl through but rather walked through, all scrunched in. This is where I was very thankful for the squats I have been doing!!

The very worst part of the race for me were the walls - they are very tall, slippery, and once you jump over them, you land in bumpy, slippery, mud. This is where M's sister got hurt - the first wall. She messed up her ankle, and I felt so bad for her because it was relatively early on in the race. But she was a super-trooper, and completed the rest of the race beautifully. Still, those damn walls -- if I do this next year, I'm definitely beefing up my arms and growing about 7 inches, because these f*****s are tall! The second one I jumped was a "double" wall, meaning twice as thick, so I couldn't even hook my hands around it. M's sis propped me up, and M helped me come down on the other side. Without them, I know I would have had to get a (hot) marine to help me, or just flounder around in the mud until someone took mercy on me and let me walk around the damn things. They are awful!

Lastly, there is the final mud pit, which is super wet and stinky. There are plastic flags strewn across every few feet, and you can't get higher than those flags -- basically you have to cross on the mud pit on your hands and knees. The worst part of it by far is just that your knees get all scratched up and the mud makes it kinda of sting, but even that is not so bad.

When we got out of the mud pit, we saw M's mom on the sidelines, and stopped to take a couple of pictures, which makes for good photos, but for slower time! We then sprinted to the official finish line, with a finishing time of 1 hour, 52 minutes, and 58 seconds. MUCH slower than M's time last year of 1 hour, 30 minutes. However, this is where I put in my time disclaimer -- since we got to the starting line so late, there weer literally thousands of people ahead of us, which led to extreme bottlenecking at several parts along the course. I think we could have easily shaved 10 minutes off of our time just by taking out all the time we spent waiting around to get through narrow parts of the trails. Overall, though, I can't be upset about the time - we weren't really doing it with a time goal in mind, though if I do it again next year, my goal is to beat 1 hour 30.

(If you look carefully in the picture, you see us three running towards the finish line)

I couldn't believe when we were finished that it had all gone by. I mean, it was seriously fun! It is true that you feel a great sense of pride in yourself - you just did this hard thing, and survived, and enjoyed it! A few months ago I couldn't run half a block, and now I ran six miles and jumped walls and crossed reservoirs, and got high-fives from (hot) marines along the way!!

I forgot to mention that occasionally, marines would be on the side of the trails with water guns spraying us down, or handing out water and Gatorade, and cheering us on. That was great fun, and it was nice to feel like they were proud of us, and in turn we are all proud of them for what they do. It was all very squishy-lovey-dovey, in a muddy-runny-mess kind of way.


After the race, we met up with M's mom and niece, and took photos, and bought souvenir shirts, and got a celebratory beer. I had wanted to shower, but there were only about 3500 people in line waiting to shower, so I decided to just change while M held a towel around me. Mmm, nothing like putting fresh clothes on over caked mud! Actually - it was kind of fun. M and I kind of wandered around and took it all in, and again felt all squishy-lovey-dovey.

Then, we headed back to L.A. and while we made a fruitless detour trying to go to In-N-Out, we still got to L.A. in an hour and a half! Awesome time! We dropped off M's mom, sis, and niece, and M and I went and got a celebratory Bacon Western burger and fries (and a taco) from the best burger place in all of Los Angeles, Pete's. We did split the burger, as we were having bbq later that night, but man! That was the best burger I've ever had! I was S-T-A-R-V-I-N-G at that point - about 2:30 p.m., and we wolfed that bad boy down!

Thus, our Mud Run adventure drew to a close. It was a successful adventure in every sense: I got in better shape, learned to semi-like running, bonded with M's sister who inspired me all this time to keep training, and achieved something that even a year ago when I spectated at the Mud Run I thought I would never be able to do.

I guess the marines have reminded me of a lesson we all should remember, which is that if we do set our minds to something and work hard toward that goal, there are very few things in life that we can't achieve. All the little things that I tried to use as excuses turned out to be just that, excuses. "I don't have enough time," but I made time. "My feet hurt," but I got new shoes and insoles, and my feet were just fine. "I can't breathe!" (This was a big one at the beginning), but I learned that if I kept training, my heart and lungs started getting stronger, and soon I could run and talk at the same time.

Now, the goal on the horizon running-wise is the Wharf to Wharf in Santa Cruz/Capitola at the end of July. Thank goodness I signed up for it, otherwise I might be very tempted to stop running for a while. As for next year's Mud Run, I'm almost positive that I will do it again, even if to prove to myself that I can beat M's time from last year ;-)

Mud Run this Saturday!!

Where have the last six months gone? It feels like just yesterday I was lounging on a chaise on a cruise ship, sipping champagne, waiting for the ship to sail out onto the Pacific. This is exactly what I was doing when M's sister called to tell him that indeed, the three of us had been signed up for the Camp Pendleton Mud Run on June 6. Now, it is June 4, and I feel compelled to both run with arms wide open towards this crazy race, as well as run screaming in any direction other than San Diego. Overall though, I am truly psyched and happy to be doing this, and I can't wait for Sunday morning to roll around when I can wake up and have this be behind me!

One thing that truly inspired me on this last stretch is a comment that I received today from a fellow blogger. Sue Ann Jaffarian is also doing the Mud Run this Saturday, and she must have somehow come across one of my entries about the Mud Run, and left me a great comment telling me a bit about her own journey toward Camp Pendleton. I highly recommend giving her blog, Babble 'n Blog, a read.

To catch up briefly on this month's training:

We took it slowly, and sure enough, by last Sunday, I was able to do a six-mile run, complete with hills. We started out a few weeks ago doing two miles, then pushed it up to two and a half, then three... then suddenly I found myself running and running and Gosh-durn, still running, during our six mile trek a few days ago. Needless to say, I'm a bit over running by now, but at the same time I am excited that I have gotten a really good base down, so I can concentrate on running being "fun" rather than "excruciating." This is imperative, as we're doing the Wharf to Wharf at the end of July, and I must be in good enough shape to actually enjoy all the bands and entertainers and supporters along that route.

In preparation for the Mud Run, I even bought myself some really cute - and totally expensive - triathlon shorts, which I bought partially with the intention that they will encourage me to train for the Disneyland Duathlon next year.

Lastly, I must touch upon my lame foot. My lame foot is seriously a pain in my behind (odd phrase, ain't it??) and after much procrastination, I actually went to a real foot doctor. He informed me that I over-pronate in my right foot, a fancy word meaning I don't have enough arch support, which leads to the tibial nerve being overly stressed (perhaps it needs a margarita? I know I do!). Any-this-is-probably-boring, the podiatrist gave me these super nerdy-looking food pad things to add on TOP of my already geeky insoles. I cannot wear them for the Mud Run, as they are made of felt, which shockingly is no friend to mud, but I shall definitely start wearing them as soon as the Mud Run is over. Hopefully, this should improve my foot-falling-asleep issue, and make me a happier and better runner.

Next time you hear from me, I will hopefully have good news to report. If there are no posts by early next week, send out a search party to sift through the mud :)

In other news, great speech by President Obama in Cairo! NYT has the full text, though I'm not sure how well the link will work.

"The Holy Koran tells us, 'O mankind! We have created you male and female; and we have made you into nations and tribes so that you may know one another.' The Talmud tells us: 'The whole of the Torah is for the purpose of promoting peace.' The Holy Bible tells us, 'Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.' The people of the world can live together in peace. We know that is God's vision. Now, that must be our work here on Earth. Thank you. And may God's peace be upon you." (End of Obama's speech).

P.S. Happy Belated to Anderson Cooper, who turned 42 yesterday :)

Those silly Democrats

This clip featuring Rep. Michele Bachmann is hilarious!

Thanks to thedailybanter for bringing it to my attention.

Running woes/whoas

First, the woes:
As you may remember, I have signed up for the Camp Pendleton Mud Run in June, which I actually became excited about once I embraced the idea of running over 6 miles up crazy hills, having marines shoot icy cold water on me, and wading through a reservoir as tall as me. M and I were tackling the hills around here, and I got myself up to running just about 3 miles without dying. Three miles isn't much, but with two months left until the race, I figured I had plenty of time to double my runs. Then, a few weeks ago, I got really bad shin splints. I was so depressed! I couldn't run, and I felt so set back! Last week I started running again, doing one mile on two separate days, and yesterday I did a little over two miles. I felt great, and I was so excited to be back! But today, my right leg feels like shards of glass are embedded into it! Sadness of sadnesses!

I was planning on doing about 3 miles of hilly running tomorrow, but now I think I'll have to see how I feel in the morning. Anyways, I guess 6 weeks is still a long time to recuperate, but I'm so bummed because I really felt like I was back on track. The worst-case scenario would be selling my ticket and not further hurting my legs, but I really don't want to do that, particularly since I spent an hour last night convincing M that I do not want to back out of doing the Mud Run. I guess time will tell, but for now I'm staying hopeful and on will try to stay on track.

Now the whoas:
Today I signed up for the 2009 Wharf to Wharf race in Santa Cruz in July! I am super excited about it! The 10k race goes from Santa Cruz to Capitola, with bands and other performers on the sidelines cheering you on. Last year I went to cheer M on, and I can't wait to be in the actual race this year. I figure if I train for the Mud Run, the Wharf to Wharf shouldn't be too bad at all; it's a pretty flat terrain (especially compared to the Mud Run!!) A friend for work is doing it, too, and I am hoping Sharone will sign up to do it too! (Come on, you know you want to!)

Another whoah: I am also really looking forward to the Disneyland Duathlon with Sharone next year! I even got a bicycle and M has taught me how to ride! I am SO set for next year's bike/run (thank God there is no swimming, at least as of now!)

Overall, this week has been a bit of a running roller coaster - feeling good, excited, dejected, frustrated, hopeful... I can't let my lame legs get me too down. I'll show them who's boss. I'm really looking forward to all the Marines at the Mud Run!!

Hard to talk when you're teabagging...

Oh, Anderson Cooper... I thought I couldn't love you more. I was wrong. (Comments speculating as to how and why Anderson would know it's hard to talk when teabagging will be deleted at my discretion. Leave me fantasy alone!)



*Update - I can't stop watching this. I can't believe his deadpan abilities. Have I mentioned that I love Anderson Cooper?

Sherlock in Love

Sherlock in Love: A Novel by Sena Jeter Naslund

My review

rating: 1 of 5 stars
I had heard great things about Sena Jeter Naslund's Ahab's Wife, and when I went to check it out from the library, I noticed a much shorter book by her, Sherlock in Love. Now, I usually delight in pastiches, even in parodies, of famous books (Shamela, anyone?) so I thought, if AW is supposed to be good, SIL should be good too! Wrong!



This books is truly terrible! Sandwiched between a somewhat intriguing beginning and a flaccid, unfulfilling end, is a ridiculous plot peppered with even more ridiculous characters.



The novel's premise is as follows: two years after Sherlock Holmes' death, the loyal (and in this book, kind of creepy and pathetic) Dr. Watson decides to write a biography of the great Holmes. Immediately, Watson begins receiving threats and his house is broken into. Somebody clearly wants Sherlock Holmes' biography to be scrapped. But why?



This is the question that drives Dr. Watson's tale. He becomes a detective in his own right - kind of. He delves into his own notebooks from decades before to find out just who - and why - might want to stop this book from being written. In his journals, he re-discovers a cast of characters so absurd doing things so stupid that I seriously contemplated setting the book down and returning to my Octavia Butler books about aliens.



Sherlock in Love could have been a success. There are the makings of a far more interesting and successful novel here - cross-dressing musical geniuses, schizophrenic European royals, cocaine habits... but nothing is cohesive, no character is endearing, and by the end of the book I didn't care who lived, who died, who was who, and why they did the senseless things they did.



To bring this to a close, I was sorely disappointed. I will still read Ahab's Wife, if only out of my love for the original Melville novel, but I strongly recommend staying far away from Sherlock in Love.


View all my reviews.

note: I have no idea why there is so much space between parags, and I can't seem to change it. I am a code loser...

Word of the day: Obnoxious

obnoxious |əbˈnäk sh əs|
adjective
extremely unpleasant.
ORIGIN late 16th cent. (in the sense [vulnerable [to harm]] ): from Latin obnoxiosus, from obnoxius ‘exposed to harm,’ from ob- ‘toward’ + noxa ‘harm.’ The current sense, influenced by noxious , dates from the late 17th cent.

Things I believe could accurately be described as obnoxious:

People who back into parking spots. Why do they do this? This is extremely obnoxious! An ex-boyfriend used to do this and it drove me nuts. I asked him for a reason once, and his response was, "it makes it easier to drive away." Easier than what? I do not understand. You can drive into your parking spot and back out of it when you leave (total time this takes, an approximate 2.10223 seconds), or you can look like a jackass backing into a parking spot, which I know takes more than 2.10223 seconds, and then look like a smug jackass when you drive away. If as you read this you realize you are guilty of this obnoxious behavior, please stop. You are obnoxious.

The luxury SUV L.A. population. These people are ridiculous. On the way out of L.A. last week, we played a fun game called, "count the big cars." It's a simple game, really -- you count how many big cars (SUVs, vans, pickup trucks) you see in a row before a small car (like a sedan, though we allowed Scions to be in this category) interrupts the flow. I think one time I got to 11. Then, a little car would come, followed by 7 or 8 big cars. But these aren't just big cars. They aren't just pick-up trucks; they are obnoxious big cars and pick-up trucks. They are Escalades, Explorers, Yukons, dual-cabin-extra-long-bed-wide-as-a-motherfucker cars. With 85-lb blonde, fake-tanned women driving them to pick up their chihuahuas from the beauty salon. This is obnoxious. Within 20 minutes (TWENTY!) I counted eight (EIGHT!!!!) Hummers.
*This is the appropriate time to include a subcategory of obnoxious people:
People who drive Hummers.
You are obnoxious. Please stop. You live in California, not a military base. You are going to the Lakers game, not a secret operation in the desert. You drink soy lattes with light foam, wear 200 dollar torn jeans, and the closest you've come to combat is playing video games. You probably spend half your paycheck on gas. You are obnoxious. Please stop being a jackass.
I regress. Back to the big cars. When we got back up to Palo Alto, I realized there are many big cars here too - but in the week that we've been back, I have not seen one (ONE!) Yukon, Escalade, Navigator, or Hummer (this is not to say they never appear). The point is, I have seen more Priuses driving on the way to work today (2.5 miles) than I have obnoxious luxury SUVs in a month. L.A. drivers who ride in luxury SUVs but never go offroading, or even out of L.A. -- you are obnoxious. (Here is a fun wrap-up of other obnoxious L.A. driving behavior.)

The medical industry. The medical industry as a whole is obnoxious. Kaiser Permanente is my insurance provider, so I can really just focus on them. The referral system is obnoxious; the fact that their website says "refill your prescription online," lets me enter all my information, confirms that my prescription is arriving in the mail, then FOUR DAYS LATER emails me saying, "your prescription cannot be refilled, and please don't reply to this email as the pharmacy will not read your message," and then directs me to the same page where I originally filled in my information -- this is all obnoxious. Also obnoxious -> trying to call KP and waiting on hold for 25 minutes until I get fed up and hang up, only to have to do this later. Kaiser is obnoxious.

Twenty year old college students who wear Ralph Lauren collared sweaters with dress shirts underneath. You are obnoxious. You are twenty, you binge drink, and you room with four other guys. You are not yet a businessman, a lawyer, or a senator. Act your age. Extra obnoxious points - when said collared RL sweaters are worn with sandals. Completely mind boggling. You are obnoxious, please stop.
(A note on the image: this is not exactly what I'm talking about, but the fact that this is how RL markets their clothes makes wearing them that much extra obnoxious.)

Old people who think that because they are old, they can be obnoxious. I will cite an example: On Tuesday last I was preparing for an event at work that was starting in, oh, about 20 minutes. I check on the room and find out 137 chairs have been set out, and I was only expecting a few over 50 people to show up. So, I scurry and try to take out as many of the extra chairs as possible - nothing worse than too many empty chairs!! -- and just then, an old man comes and sits down in a chair that was CLEARLY meant to be taken away (seeing as how every other chair in that column had already been cleared). I let him know, as nicely as I can, that I mean to clear all the chairs in that row. To which he responds, "Hmf! I think they call those columns." So obnoxious! If you are old, please do not be obnoxious just because you think being old gives you the right to do so. Being old gives you the right to fall asleep during boring talks, walk slowly when you cross the street, and tell the same story over and over again. It does not give you the right to be obnoxious.

This concludes my examples of how to use the word of the day: obnoxious.

Brains in Your Head, Feet in Your Shoes

In just a few weeks, I will officially be an aunt, and I'm so excited! I love being an auntie to M's niece and nephew, who are simply awesome, and now it's my own sister who's having a baby.

There are babies, babies everywhere! Our fridge is already becoming covered in baby pics, and it makes me so happy to see their squishy faces every time I walk into the kitchen. And, in anticipation of the question, No this does not make me want one, and Yes I sigh with relief each time I see them because I don't have one. (Yet?)

I went to the Stanford Bookstore today and picked up a couple Dr. Seuss books to send to my soon-to-be born nephew, because Dr. Seuss is freakin' AWESOME, and also they are perfect for learning to read AND learning English!



"One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish" is especially good with all of the above - reading, numbers, as well as colors and English (the baby's Italian. My family is very international. That's how we roll).

I wish the bookstore had "The Places You'll Go," which I think is the best of the Dr. Seuss repertoire. It has an incredible message - you can do anything you set your mind to, but along the way, life will be hard; just remember that you will persevere!

I think I will share a few snippets of this wonderful book with you here (go here for the full text):


You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

...

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

...

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

...

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

The Mud Run

I have been avoiding blogging about this for months. The reason is two-fold; first, it took me a really long time to accept that I have actually signed up for this, and second, I feel that my training progress is not impressive enough to write about. However, the date is soon approaching and I have to fully embrace the torture that is...

The Mud Run

From the horse's mouth: "This is the World Famous Mud Run! The Mud Run is a challenging 10K run with hills, tire obstacles, river crossings, two 5-foot walls with mud on both sides, tunnel crawl, slippery hill climb, and the final 30-foot mud pit. Along the course there will be 6 water points with personnel staged at each. This is the most fun you can have running a 10K! View the course map at www.camppendletonraces.com. Race individually military or civilian, within your age division, or as a member of a 5-person team. Choose the Open category with no restrictions on attire and footwear, or the Boots and Utilities category, which requires regulation military boots and camouflage utility trousers. Please note: there is a 2 hour 45 minute time limit on the completion of the course."

M and his friend Ray (of Ray of Light Fund) did this last year. Ray's girlfriend and I went to cheer our men on, and watched the sheer torture that this race truly is; somehow, both of us are doing it this year. Sadly, due to a confusion in scheduling, it will be on different days, but I digress. The point is, I have witnessed the disgusting mud, I have heard the screams of hundreds of people being hosed down with icy water as they try to crawl up a muddy hill, and I have smelled the foulness of the final mud pit. And I am now doing this. Why? The gods only know.

But let me try to work out the reasoning behind this.

I needed an incentive to get my lardy butt in shape. Especially since I started work, I have feared that I was on the steep slope to imobility. And yes, I have a lovely gym that I visit regularly, but with no real incentive to get me motivated, the gym was really more a recreational activity than a health-and-fitness motivator.

Second, M's sister really wanted to do it, for the same reason (see above), and when I realized she was serious about it, I felt compelled to join, knowing I'd have another girl to run with and support, and be supported by.

Third, everybody that crossed that finish line last year looked so... happy!


The hellish hills, the mucky mud, the fire hoses, the whole shebang - and the girl above is exhilarated! I wanted to feel that same sense of accomplishment and pride, and I have never really pushed myself to do anything remotely athletic that would warrant such results. This is my chance. I could have started with a 5k or even a normal 10k, but I figure, if you're gonna do it, might as well do it with a bang. So, I'm doing it!

I have been running now for a couple of months, and I have to say that I am really proud of myself. When I started, it was a struggle just to run for a minute. Now, I am doing just under 13 minute miles! Hoorah! Hooray!! Huzzah!!! Last weekend M and I went to Santa Cruz and ran for over an hour on forest trails, which was good for the body, but even better for the soul. There really is no other feeling like running over brooks, by wildflowers, under mossy branches of redwoods.

The only snaffu in my perfect plan to become a running goddess is...

My Lame Foot

I have a lame foot, and it's a pain. Literally. My right foot apparently decided that it wants to become entirely numb somewhere between 1.85 to 2 miles, almost every run. It feels swollen, bloated, numb, tingly -- it SUCKS! My doctor said it's a nerve, and gave me stretches to do. I do them, it still numbs. I recently bought some sole inserts and they seem to help, but I am feeling the pressure to go see a podiatrist. I hate going to the doctor, so I have been putting it off, but it must be done eventually. It seems that hills and soft ground are better -- in Santa Cruz, it didn't do the numbness thing! Another reason to love Santa Cruz, as if I needed any more.

This past weekend, we ran at the Rose Bowl, and I saw how big of an improvement I have made since the last time I went running there. That's the most rewarding part about working out - is seeing and feeling yourself improve with time. I remember the first time I ran on the treadmill for five straight minutes, I wanted to hug myself.

So, until June, I will try to blog about my progress. It will be a challenge to increase my training, because my parents will be staying with us until after the Mud Run, but I will have to figure something out. Maybe run in the morning, if I can convince myself to get up.

Mud Run, here I come, and I will conquer you!

I am not nice enough to work at Trader Joe's

It might be because I am getting older; or because I am getting bored of eating the same thing all the time; maybe it's because dining out is just too damn expensive, and again, becomes boring after a while. Whatever the case, I've recently decided that I want to be an amateur foodie, that fustian (GRE word!) label adopted by high-falutin' yuppies who occasionally cook and tell everyone they do so.

For this purpose, Whole Foods and Trader Joe's are definitely my friends - a couple of weeks ago, I managed to make a surprisingly successful Indian-inspired lamb dish, complete with naan and curry rice (don't get too excited, it was just rice-maker rice with curry powder in it; but it was good!). Whole Foods has really good, cheap, Indian sauces, and you just cook up the lamb with the sauce for a super easy but delicious dish. I'd bought some fresh pesto from Whole Foods, and spread that on olive oil-sprinkled naan, topped with a bit of grated cheese, and stuck in the oven for ten minutes - easy, quick, and so so good!

Then, there was the ham tacos adventure, again surprisingly successful! Basically, just sautee the ham a bit with some fresh salsa, chopped onions, and spices, and fill tacos with said ham, top with fresh guacamole (I cheated and bought Whole Foods guac, instead of making my own, and it was delicious), and you have a quick, easy, and nutritious meal.

It helps that I have a good partner in eating. A few weeks ago, M made the best chicken-tortilla soup I've ever had! It sounds like it took a while to make, but the results were definitely delicious.

Last week, I took on the baking challenge. I don't think I've ever actually baked anything from scratch before, so when we decided to make cookies for Valentine's Day, I was a bit skeptical. But, our chocolate chip, dark chocolate M&Ms, and sprinkles cookies came out mmmm mmmm good! Perfect for the rainy long weekend.

Today, I'm attempting to make a polenta pizza dish I found in the New York Times. Seriously, it doesn't get yuppier than getting recipes from the NYT, but I have a feeling it will be delicious. I made the polenta this morning, and it's chilling in the fridge while I avoid doing homework at the library (more on that later). When I get home, I'll cook up some spinach with pancetta, cover the polenta with feta cheese (substituted for Gorgonzola, which the recipe called for), tomato sauce, and some fresh basil, and bake it all up.

Okay, now to the point of this whole post - with my renewed interest in cooking has come a renewed relationship with Whole Foods and Trader Joe's. I was at TJ's last night, buying up the spinach, pancetta, feta, etc. for tonight's dinner, and realized how friendly the Trader Joe's staff is. And not fake friendly, but genuinely nice, enthusiastic, and really chatty. I remember thinking this when I first moved to Palo Alto and started going to the local TJs a lot during the summer. But it's been a few months, and I was completely zoned out last night, so when the cashier started up a conversation while bagging my groceries, I was slightly surprised. "Why is this person talking to me?" I asked myself. That's when I realized, I am really not nice enough to work at Trader Joe's. I don't care what people have planned for their weekend. I couldn't care less about what people are planning to make with the things they buy from the grocery store. I truly don't want to make small talk with people I will probably never see again. I want to stay in my bubble, and have that bubble bump up against other people's bubbles without those bubbles actually merging into a conversation arena. For the majority of the time, I want to be left alone until I choose to make small talk with a very select number of people (apparently, aside from being anti-social, I'm also rather arrogant. Note to self - Food for thought?)

Here is evidence to back up my discovery about my lack of niceness. I got to the Mountain View Public Library, set up my computer, was syncing my iPhone with I-Tunes, and realized that there were - gasp - children running rampant among the shelves. (This seems to be a recurring problem). I could not see them - there were two! - but I could hear them. I could hear them giggle and whimper and make strange, alien, sounds that only small children can make. Did I think, how cute? No, I thought "Shut up, you little rug-rats!" Now, if I were as nice as the young man in Trader Joe's last night, I would have probably thought nicer thoughts, and even if I was annoyed to the point of doing something about it, I'd have done it in a nice, pleasant manner. Not I. Two more minutes and I would have walked over, looked at the mother with squinted eyes, and said something like, "Ma'am, this is a library. Please keep your snotty children quiet! I can't concentrate with all this noise!!" (Okay I wouldn't have said "snotty" but I like to dream).

The snot-nosed ones have since gone downstairs, I think. Little matter, because now I have my headphones on and Joni Mitchell is singing to me, so I couldn't hear them anyway. But the point is - I am not a nice person. I daydream about yelling at strangers' children, and wish cashiers would just leave me alone. I could never cut it in the country song mythical small town where everyone knows each other. That's a nightmare scenario for me, living somewhere where one can't ever be anonymous.

Now that I have that out of the way, I should really get down to studying. I had signed up for this writing class through Stanford's Continuing Studies program, and I haven't done my homework in five weeks! This is why, on a Saturday, I am holed up in the library. So, back to work!