Succumb to the Power of Your Own Foxiness!!

Wedding Beauty Planning

2009-10-09T23:04:00.004-04:00

Hair and make-up trial last Monday resulted in this:

I feel like the brows are a little heavy, but otherwise, I was pretty happy with my girl Brittany's work.

Her highlights were really a work of art...she planned the blonde bits around my side ponytail idea, and it came out awesome!

I love how the bangs will echo the slant of my veil, although in this picture I think my lips are a little toooooo nude. Hmm.

Wedding Ceremony Photos

2009-10-09T22:57:00.003-04:00

Last weekend I went to Shakespeare Garden, where we're having our wedding, and took some pictures of the space. There were lots of flowers in bloom, so hopefully they'll last a few short weeks.

Entry-way

Looking towards the "altar".

Do we have the ceremony here, facing back towards the entrance? Or...

Here, in the center, by the sundial?

Yoga Body?

2009-06-26T17:46:00.002-04:00

So you might have noticed (oh intrepid blog world) that I have no posted any weight loss progress shots in awhile. This is because, despite a pretty consistent gym-going schedule of about 2-3 nights of cardio a week over the past few months, the scale has yet to move enough to make celebrating worthwhile. I've lost a few pounds, gained them back, gained some more, and then lost those. I've been hovering in a 5 lb +/- zone for awhile now, which I think is called a "plateau" in professional fitness circles. Around my part of town we call it depressing.

This is not to say I'm not feeling 10 million times better than I was back in January; I feel fit, confident, comfortable and strong again. I haven't felt this good in a long time. But I am still about 15 lbs from where I want to be (read: at least one dress size smaller than I am now). After reading up on nutrition and metabolism, I've made a good change in my diet (less carbs, more protein), and am feeling more clearheaded, less tired, and less depressed. It's amazing what axing potatoes and pasta can do! I'm also trying to amp up my gym visits to a solid 3-5 times a week for cardio.

I've also decided to make a commitment to doing yoga and pilates consistently for the next few months. I feel good when I do yoga; it's an expensive hobby but one that yields physical and emotional results. I'm also convinced it will help with my abs and arms, two flabby parts of my body I am pretty ashamed of and want to tone up before the wedding. 2-3 sessions a week should get those parts of my body (and others!) into good shape over the next few months. And the final pro for committing to yoga this summer? My good friend, Andrea, is coming in October to SF and needs a good yoga studio.

So I'm looking at this as a research project. The essential question? Which yoga studio in SF has the best combination of affordable pricing, convienent class time, and decent instructors? My research workstream:

June 26th - July 4th
Try out the Yoga Loft with their intro special - 3 class card for $30.
This studio is near my house, but their class offerings don't seem super convienent for my schedule. They're also a little pricey. BUT there are always a million people there on the weekends, and I assume it's popular for a reason.
Per class cost: $10

July 6th - July 11th
Give DharmaSpace Pilates studio a shot - 3 class intro pass is $30
I have never really done a Pilates class, but I'm determined to try it out. Beginner mat classes here are supposed to be good, it's near my work, and they offer afternoon classes, which might make me more likely to take a break during the week day for a little exercise.
Per class cost: $10

July 12th - July 16th
Check out Bend Yoga - 3 class intro card is only $20!
This place is affordable, but kind of far from my house. Also, the website makes it look like it's serious business! I hope it's not too hippy dippy.
Per class cost: $7!

July 17th - July 25th - Yoga on my own
I'll be travelling for work for about 10 days, so I won't buy any class. But by this point, I'll have gone to about 9 classes, so I should be in good shape to do my own workouts while I'm out of town.
Per class cost: FREE!!

July 26th - Aug 26th
Spend a month getting to know Satori Yoga Studio - 1 month unlimited intro card is only $88!
This place is right around the corner from my office, and there are lots of lunch time classes, in both yoga and pilates. It has a good reputation around town, and is super cheap.
Per class cost: About $7.50 a class if I got 12 times.

Aug 27th
Decision time: which studio is my favorite? Whichever one wins out will be my mainstay for a few weeks. I'll get the most affordable class card (either 10-20 classes or monthly unlimited cards) and try to keep up my schedule.

I'll post my workouts to my dailymile, and who knows? By the wedding I might just be standing taller and feeling stronger than ever!

Tabletop Crafting

2009-05-03T20:05:00.002-04:00

So a while back I posted a photo tour of our apartment, including this shot of a cool table runner I got at CB2, which both Larry and I loved:

Unfortunately, the intense california sun and two kitties who love to curl up on anything cozy conspired to ruin the runner. It quickly was covered in cat hair, and actually faded around the cat hair, so the result was a kind of weird, spider-webby tye dye pattern in the black cloth. NOT appetizing.

So we bought some fabric a while back at the closing sale at WhizBang Fabrics, and I've been meaning to make a new runner for the table. This weekend was a little rainy, and since Larry is deep in iPhone-programming-land, I thought I'd do something creative myself.

Basically, this whole project was one big sewing lesson for me. There were several challenges, including trying to cut straight lines (harder than you'd think!), lining up rough edges and create a straight line fold down two yards of fabric (also, not easy), and jamming the entire thing through the sewing machine:

"Confidence" my ass! Actually, it's a pretty decent machine so far.

I also had to learn how to topstitch, which was easier than I'd though it would be. I had some fabric left, so I decided to recycle the bottom (unfaded) part of the old runner and make some napkins:

Basically a bunch of squares and rectangles -- a good way to get used to my new machine.

The finished project, in situ:

The original plan was to make table runners and napkins for our wedding, We bought a ton of coordinating fabrics to do that. Not sure if that's a go, now that we're doing the deed in a fancy restaurant. But now I've got the process down! Next I'm hoping to tackle a simple bag, followed by some skirts!

10 weeks, at least 13 lbs lost!

2009-03-21T19:02:00.002-04:00

Larry and I got a new digital scale, so the results aren't hard and fast accurate, but I have most definitely lost at least 13 lbs. Sometimes it says I've lost 15, so that makes me super, super happy, but more often it says 13. So. I'm being conservative here.

That's equal to about 1 Medea (she sat on the scale and it said 12.4, but failed to calculate a BMI for her. Hmm).

This is not the most flattering photo, but I know I've lost weight, since I was able to buy a smaller bra and get the most gorgeous dress ever for Trisha's wedding.

I still want to lost about 15 more lbs before the wedding, but I'm well on my way!

After two months, -10 lbs

2009-03-08T14:00:00.003-04:00

So I spent all of January and most of February working hard on going to the gym regularly and making healthier choices when it comes to meals. And I lost 10 lbs!

It's pretty exciting. For the past few years, I've tried EVERYTHING to lose weight, and this the most I've managed to lose at once. Sure, for the past two weeks I had bronchitis and strep throat and couldn't exercise, but I'm feeling confident that if I keep up the healthy habits I've started, I can lose even more!

Props to Larry for keeping me on track with my healthy lifestyle. We've been going to the gym on the weekends, cooking (!), and grocery shopping for healthy snacks. It's a big help to have a partner!

Wedding Planning: More Reception Venues

2009-01-25T16:01:00.003-05:00

From Fort Mason, we made our way to our next destination, the Haas-Lilienthal house, which is an historical, Victorian structure available for rent for private parties.

The way it would work, we would have the full run of the first and second floors, plus a ballroom on the ground floor. Guests would come in the front stairs and enter the parlor, where we'd have the ceremony:

This is where the Haas and Lilienthal families had their wedding ceremonies for 100 years! I'd walk down these stairs as my "aisle":

Then, we'd have cocktail stations throughout the rest of the house:

Pros: Gorgeous! Historic, unique and interesting. Antique furniture, lots of space to roam around, and the possibility of having a dancefloor in the basement. When you rent the house, you get a docent for the evening who runs tours for your guests. We really, really loved this place.
Cons: As you can see from the pictures, it's super dark inside, and I'd be worried about our pictures coming out. Also, as with the firehouse, this place would require us to rent EVERYTHING and deal with coordinating a caterer, bar, rentals, etc. Kind of a pain. Also, the house is on a very busy street, and you can hear traffic noises in the front rooms, where we'd do the ceremony.
Next Steps: We have some questions for the event coordinator there, who is on vacation. If we decide to move forward, we'll need to find a caterer who's affordable, and decide if we want to do the ceremony there on site or still use a park for that part.

We also checked out two newish restaurants in SoMa, a trendy neighborhood built with dotcom boom cash. Both have private rooms and exciting, creative menus. Orson was dark, warm, intimate and gorgeous:

But we weren't blown away by the food, and Larry thought the private room was too dark. I thought it was flat-out fabulous, but I have a goth streak. I think Orson is out.

Last night we headed to bacar, but didn't take any photos. The food was off the hook and the space was gorgeous! The chef did a 7 course tasting for us, and every dish was amazing.
Pros: Amazing food, great wine list, beer and cocktails available. The staff is open to working with us and super friendly. The space is warm and classy, and the price seems to be comparable to SuppenKuche or working with a caterer.
Cons: The booze bill will be much higher than if we used a caterer.
Next Steps: Meet with the event planner and talk bargains!

I'm getting really excited that we are getting close to picking a place. For now, we're trying to figure out if we want a fun, raucous party in an open, bright space (Suppenkuche), a classy cocktail party in a historic space (Haas-Lilienthal house), or a ridiculous, hedonistic feast in a warm and sexy restaurant (bacar). Stay tuned in the next few weeks for a decision, god willing!

Wedding Planning: Reception Venues

2009-01-25T15:34:00.002-05:00

In the past few weeks, we've been busy checking out venues for our wedding all over San Francisco. The goal is to find someplace affordable, intimate, and fun where we can have a yummy dinner and drinks with family and friends.

We started with our favorite restaurant in the city, Suppenkuche.

Pros: It's near our house, beer list is out of control and can be served out of glass boots, it'd be a fun and communal atmosphere for our friends and family.
Cons: We'd have to shut down the whole joint, and the minimum food and beverage cost for a buy-out is probably too much for the amount of people we think we'll have.
Next steps: Meet with the manager and talk bargains!

Next, we took the bus up to Fort Mason to check out some ceremony sites in the park.
There's the Black Point Battery, which I really like, but Larry hates:

Additionally, you can get a special permit to have your ceremony on the Great Lawn, which has a similar view, but is more open (which is good and bad, as we'd definitely be more on display here than on the battery):

Pros: Great views, outdoors, on the water.
Cons: Depending on where we do the reception, it could be really far.
Next Steps: Decide on a reception venue, then re-evaluate.

From the Battery or the Great Lawn, these steps lead down to the Fort Mason Center, which is a non-profit arts and performance space set in some historic military buildings:

In the Fort Mason Center, there are several reception venue options, but we looked at the smallest and most affordable, the Firehouse.

Pros: On the bay, cool, historic old building, close to ceremony spot, empty space (totally customizable), and the price is right!
Cons: Smelled a little fishy, could be dark if the firedoors are closed, requires renting EVERYTHING (cups, plates, linens) and lots of coordination.
Next Steps Larry hates it, I like it, so we're stalled on this one.

More to come!

Week 3: Finally some success to report!

2009-01-25T15:26:00.002-05:00

After three weeks of hard-core gym insanity, I've finally got some measurable success to report. Since the new year, I've lost 6 lbs! That's the equivalent of two hard-cover books:

I've been struggling for two or three years now to get into a routine that'd help me start shedding some of the weight I've put on since I started dating Larry. I think what's finally started working is a combination of going to the gym more often, and having the support and help of my friends on dailymile and Larry in real life.

I hope I can keep it up! My goal is to lose 24 more lbs before April 23rd. That's 30 lbs before my 31st birthday! Woot!

Check-in: 1 week later, +2.5 lbs

2009-01-11T20:06:00.004-05:00

So after my optimistic post back there about getting serious about weight loss, of course I messed around over the holidays and got off track. But I've been back on the wagon this week, thanks to the help of:

1) My sister's inspiring hard work - She worked her ass off and lost like 5 lbs already, the bitch.

2) Larry finally buying in and getting motivated - he downloaded a calorie counting application to his iPhone, and now he's all like, "I'm not eating a white tortilla, do you have any idea how many calories they are???"

3) Brand new workout clothes from Lucy (seen above) - We just happened upon this store in the Marina district yesterday. They were having a 50% off sale. I got $350 worth of workout gear (two pairs of pants, two tops, and a sweatshirt) for $80. The stuff is gorgeous, comfortable, and functional. So excited!

4) dailymile.com - a new social networking site for tracking your exercise. So much more inspiring than tracking your food on Weight Watchers.

5) A commitment to fiscal responsibility - we've been grocery shopping and cutting back on meals out.

6) A sensible self-monitoring and reward plan that pushes me to exercise 5 or more times a week.

7) A new hot pink iPod shuffle packed with booty-kicking tunes - $49.99. Thanks for the Christmas money, Mr. and Mrs. Ogrodnek!

The result? I did at least 30 minutes of physical activity 6 times last week. I am a rockstar! However, I didn't lose a single pound. I am now actually 2.5 lbs heavier than I was last week. But I feel great, and I'm sure the added weight is probably muscle.

The way I figure, if I can keep up the momentum, I can be in a bikini for my honeymoon in Hawaii next fall!

My Words

2009-01-07T20:43:00.004-05:00

As a recovering English teacher, lapsed poet, aspiring librarian and all around word junkie, I'm constantly fascinated and delighted by the hilarity of the T9word function on my old skool Sprint katana phone. Just yesterday, I was texting my brother, and typed "Oh Snap" but my phone guessed I meant, "Oh Soap." Shit like that cracks me up, I'm not sure why. And I've always believed there might be a deeper significance to it all -- when I type "last day of school" and "last day of pain" comes up, I wonder how my phone understands my psychological issues better than any therapist ever could.

So when my phone informed me that I had too many words in my self-made dictionary (all the words I have to enter manually and aren't contained in the phone's preprogrammed dictionary) and had to delete some, I had no end of fun reading my list. In lieu of a "year in review" write up, I instead present you with my customized text dictionary. It's a nice summary of 2008, it's ups and downs, the routine and the random of my life, friends, food, family, fears and hopes. All in alphabetical order, no less!

My Words:
Atheist
Awilda
Bagel
Barnard
Bbq
Bleeker
Blondies
Blvd
Boddingtons
Carolyn
Cavo
Chulo
Crap
Crissy
Crunk
Csa
Culver
Daly
Danielle
Derby
Diedra
distillery
Eggers
Farting
Gijon
Greta
griffith
Haight
Hamentaschen
Hater
Heck
Hiram
Hodgman
Homey
Honies
Hotpants
Innah
iona
Jedi
Jenna
Joanne
Katie
Kerouacs
Lorimer
Ludlow
Magdas
Manny
Marc
martunis
Mcsorleys
Melanoma
Melissa
Milch
Mjones
Moira
Moma
Muir
Murakami
Nasiha
Nate
Naw
Nintendo
Noah
Ogrodnek
Ooh
Oops
Pancho
Papi
Pelican
restorative
Rima
Rotee
Schatz
Sfo
Shane
Shawn
Shit
sonia
Squamous
Strep
Tacu
Tapas
Thanks
Timey
Tivo
tostitos
Tuk
Valencia
Vesuvio
Vicodin
Walgreens
warhol
Whiskies
Wii
Wv
Yoscar
Zablovskys
Zamar
Zamir
Zuni

Week One: It Begins!

2008-11-30T01:13:00.004-05:00

My sister and I are working to motivate each other to lose weight. We both want to look kick ass in wedding dresses in a year or so (me the bride, she the maid of honor). So in the spirit of motivation and accountability, I hope to upload a picture a week to show my progress.

Here's week one:

You'll notice that it's just me in the picture, dressed for the gym. Stay tuned for updates!

Apartment Tour

2008-10-27T15:49:00.001-04:00

Some pictures of our new place.

Back in Business

2008-09-07T16:00:00.003-04:00

We're live from 400 Page, where the internet was installed late last week. It's lightening fast! But alas, it's Comcast. We hate them. They're apparently fucking with my free speech. But they're the only game in town, unfortunately.

So this week, we moved into our new apartment. We're living out of boxes and sleeping on an air bed. We took a trip to Ikea and got a kitchen table and two (count 'em, TWO) benches. We also bought a futon for sleeping but it turns out to be a little less comfy than the air bed when fully inflated. So we're doing alright.

I started my new job. I have a desk that has its own computer on it. I can sit there all day and think big thoughts. I am not interrupted by fights, the bell, or any other responsibilities. I've had two conference calls with my friend Ali. Things are going great! The project I'm working on promises to be challenging, interesting, and meaningful. I couldn't ask for more.

Yesterday I took a walk down to Golden Gate Park from our place. It's about 2 miles to the entrance, through the Haight, which is a supremely annoying neighborhood.

View Larger Map

The park itself is sort of like San Francisco's central park. It's massive, and full of lots of cool and diverse sites. I mostly just hung out in the botanical gardens.

Entry to the gardens.

View from the top of the Garden of Frangrance's hill.

There were some of the craziest goose fights happening in that little pond. I'd never seen anything like it!

I also scouted out the De Young museum which looks really cool, and the California Academy of Sciences, which is reopening in the fall and seems to be really, really awesome. I really wanted to walk to the buffalo paddock, but I didn't make it. It's getting warmer here, as summer rolls in a little late in San Francisco, and all the walking I've been doing sort of caught up to me. I took a bus back to my neighborhood and explored some vintage shops, including Cookin' which knocked my socks off. When I get paid, I'm coming back for butter dishes!

Pampering Time

2008-08-29T13:54:00.003-04:00

On Wednesday, my friend Jennifer and I went to check out the Kabuki Springs and Spa, a bath house in the Japantown district which I'd been dying to check out. On Wed, Fri and Sun, it's women only. Compared to the Schvitz in the East Village, this place was heaven. It was clean, modern, pretty, and welcoming. The other ladies were stark naked, which took some getting used to, but after an hour of soaking and steaming and schvitzing, I was relaxed and open to just about anything.

Then yesterday, I got us signed up for free facials, make-overs, and champagne at the local Fresh. Here's the before (after walking all over the Mission for hours):

And after my hour long facial with new make-up:

Even better than all this pampering? I got a call this morning that I won a gift basket at Fresh worth about $200. Sooooo sweet.

Neighborhood Tour

2008-08-29T13:42:00.004-04:00

Thanks to Somer, I've been enjoying some "San Francisco City Walks" over the last few days. I started out exploring the Civic Center. All the municipal buildings are clustered together just a few short blocks from our sublet.

You can walk through City Hall from Van Ness Ave...

Wander around inside...

Straight through to a park, centered around an open square which right now is planted with a victory garden as part of the Slow Food festival that's going on in the city right now.

Next I went over to the San Francisco Public Library's main branch, which is super modern, quite different from NYPL's Humanities building at 42nd street where I took that map class over the summer. Everything is new, shiny, and cutting edge.

I went up to the Book Arts Division on the 6th floor, but all the zines are under lock and key, so I'll need to make an appointment if I want to explore the collection.

From the Civic Center, it's a short walk up Hayes Street to our new neighborhood, Hayes Valley. I did some browsing in the cute little shops here

...then walked over to Union Square to meet Larry for some couch shopping. The city feels smaller and smaller the more I get to know it. It's also getting easier to get up and down the hills.

San Francisco: Our Neighborhood

2008-08-24T18:42:00.002-04:00

Our new apartment is located in between two cool neighborhoods, the Lower Haight and Hayes Valley. Larry took some pictures of the surroundings...

This is the exterior of the building.

Our corner

To the west of us is the Lower Haight...

Home to Toronado, Kate's Kitchen, all night eats and skate punk kids.

To the east of us is Hayes Valley...

Home to fancy stores like True Sake and a bunch of nice brunch spots.

From there, we walked all the way to SOMA and City Beer, through the Mission. It can be done!

Larry likes to walk behind me with the camera and wait for me to turn around, then take a picture. For more examples of this sort of thing, and tons of cool shots of the neighborhoods we walked through, see his Flickr page.

San Francisco: Our New Place

2008-08-24T18:31:00.002-04:00

Our application for the place on Page Street went through, so Saturday morning we got up bright and early and went over to the management company's office to sign the lease. Unlike apartment hunting in New York, everything went surprisingly smoothly. And now we have a place all our own!

The apartment is in an old timey Victorian-style building across the street from a park. It has a big bedroom...

Huge kitchen with room for a *gasp* dining table (I don't know if I've ever had a true dining table in all my years of living on my own)...

A living room with two big, bright bay windows...

And a weird spare room which will make a great office. We might stick a futon in there for guests!

The neighborhood is a little on the edgy side, which I really like. There's some graffiti and some dirt and plenty of personality, unlike some other parts of the city which are super white-washed. It's also a little hilly, with good views, and you can easily walk to several super cool neighborhoods like the Castro, the Mission, and Soma, which we proved yesterday by walking all over the damn place. I think it's going to work out great for us!

San Franciso, Day Three: Walking Tour

2008-08-22T00:22:00.002-04:00

I started today off with some good news - our application had been accepted and we were approved for the apartment we saw last night. Relieved, I spent the day walking around the Marina district, enjoying the cool breezes and the gorgeous views of the harbor and bay.

I walked from our sublet at the bottom of Nob Hill, across California Street and up Filmore to Pacific Heights, a fancy neighborhood full of expensive shops and wine bars. From there, I decided to keep walking rather than returning home right away. I walked up Steiner Street to the Cow Hollow district.

I did a little shopping and then walked through the Presido, past the Exploratorium and the Palace of the Legion of Honor...

Up to Crissy Field where I enjoyed a picnic lunch.

I played in the sand a bit, then walked across the top of the peninsula, through Fort Mason with its views...

And down to the harbor where there were a bunch of crazy folks swimming in the bay.

I walked through Ghirdelli Square to North Point Street, caught a bus, and had a coffee at Cafe Trieste, then shopped at CityLights until Larry was ready to meet me for dinner.

A long walk,and I'm sunburnt, but I'm finally feeling a little more relaxed with the stress of apartment hunting lifted. This city is green and gorgeous and I think we're going to be just fine here.

We're set to sign the lease on Saturday; until then, I'm not planning on celebrating. I guess it's the New York in me, but I'm suspicious until things are set in stone.

San Francisco, Day Two: A Bit Brighter

2008-08-20T17:38:00.002-04:00

Today started off drizzly and cold again, but I sucked it up, put on my sneaks, and went for a belly blasting walk-jog up Russian Hill first thing. I made it to a little park at the top of the hill from which I could see the bay and Alcatraz. On the way back down, cable cars lumbered past. I was feeling a big more positive.

I had an appointment with a broker at 11, who showed me five or six gorgeous apartments. I'm not sure we'll end up with any of them in particular, but it was good to see that we can afford a nice place in a fun hip neighborhood here.

Cuteness abounds!

I'm going to try to go back to some of the better spots tonight with Larry and maybe we'll take one of these, if they're still available. If not, we'll continue to look. We've got just under two weeks to find a place, and hopefully something perfect will crop up.

San Francisco, Day One

2008-08-20T01:06:00.002-04:00

I have vague memories of my first week in NYC eight years ago. I remember being scared, yet exhilirated. I remember pounding the pavement, traipsing all over the five boroughs looking in all the wrong places for an apartment. I remember bursting into tears when I finally found a place that wasn't covered with roaches or guarded by gang bangers. I know it must have been hard, but I think for the most part I've forgotten how terrible it was to try to get my bearings in a foreign place, and I've romanticized my first few years in New York, having chalked all those bad, hard times up to valuable experience and life lessons.

That said, San Francisco is kicking my ass. I woke up this morning, my first morning here, and slugged through misty rain to a coffee shop where I spent over an hour on craiglist getting frustrated by the lack of apartments. My friend Jennifer came and picked me up in her car and drove me all around to look at apartments, but the places we saw were nasty and offensive (although, they were HUGE. I cannot get over how big apartments are here!). I came back home and rested for a bit, then walked WAY TOO FAR, bought some towels at Macy's, and then took a bus down to the Mission to go to two open houses, both of which were cancelled because someone rented the place out from under me (me and the other 5-15 hopeful newbies who showed up and waited outside both spots).

I made some rookie mistakes today, for sure, and I know that as I trudge forward with my life here I'll figure out how to navigate the streets and the apartment situation and all that, but it feels so, so hard right now. Today was proof that no matter how much you think you know or how bad you think you are, a new city will always surprise you, and nothing is as easy as you think it will be.

Tomorrow, more apartments, more challenges.

Archives Porn

2008-04-13T10:31:00.002-04:00

Last week, I went with my library school classmates on a visit to the Library of Congress. The whole joint was shut down, well, at least, the big grandiose part you see in National Treasure. They're installing the Library of Congress Experience!, a new tourist attraction. This was all I got to see of the Jefferson Building:

I think this whole Experience! thing is sort of hilarious. I mean, either you are a bibliophile, and you're going go to LC to rub books all over yourself and geek out, or you're not. I don't think "experiencing" the Library of Congress is going to change anyone's perception of the place as dusty, old, and nerdy.

We crossed the street and went into what I was referring to as the "Factory of Knowledge," the Madison Building.

It's huge, it's a hive of activity -- it's thousands of librarians buzzing away at specialized tasks. Each person's job compliments that of another person, and, working together, they select, catagorize, and create our nation's knowledge base. Kind of a creepy place, as government buildings often are.

The best part was the Manuscript Division tour. I'm super into Archives, lately, trying to figure out how a job could seem so perfectly awesome in so many ways.

Here's what you do. First, you get a whole shitload of junk from someone's attic, garage, or grandmother's house.

These materials came from Rouben Mamoulian, a film maker from the 40s who kept EVERYTHING, including 100s of cats.

Then you meticulously go through everything, looking for some kind of order and sense.

You put everything in pretty, acid-free preservationist folders, and make a finding aid which describes what you found and where you found it.

Then you put everything in archival boxes, and they get added to LC's collection

Miles and miles of stacks, including presidential papers. One of the archivists whipped out a journal written by George Washington and showed it around to us, with her bare hands. No gloves!! We also wandered through the papers of Margaret Mead, Groucho Marx, and Donald Rumsfield. Random.

Fascinating! I can't see myself working in a beheamouth of a place like LC, but archives definitely strike a nerve in me. The behind-the-scenes tour made the hellish 10 hour bus ride worth it!

Go ahead, pee your pants

2008-03-12T23:44:00.000-04:00

I know I did!

San Francisco

2008-02-24T21:34:00.003-05:00

Just got back from a whirlwind tour of the city by the bay. Some highlights...

Tamales at Roosevelt Cafe and graffiti in the Mission

Rainy days and sea lions

A sunny day drive through Marin County, along the coast, from the Redwood Forest...

...to the rocky beaches...

From the expected, cookie-cutter tourist spots...

...to the totally unexpected and completely original west coast cool...
the alembic / cartoon art museum / sony metreon / the library / city beer / the lusty lady / blue plate / city lights / kate's kitchen / more more more

We came to the west coast looking for a new home. I'm not sure we found it -- sf is no magic bullet. It's a complicated city, certainly bigger and more diverse than any other US city we've been to, but, it's no New York, and no place is. We're not sure yet whether we can be lured away from the city that never sleeps for the city that goes to sleep a little on the early side. We'll see.

Be forewarned

2007-12-06T22:39:00.001-05:00

Your gifts from me will be AWESOME this year.

after-birth

2007-12-06T22:01:00.000-05:00

Ali with her first born, Gideon. He's now a big brother.

Last night I had the honor of attending the birth of my good friend Ali's new baby girl. It was an incredible experience, for many reasons, and today I'm walking around in a haze. I feel like I've been marked or changed somehow. Walking down the chilly streets in the city, I expect people to stop me and say, "You're glowing! Did you experience the miracle of life, firsthand, recently??"

I arrived at the hospital at 5:15 pm. Ali and her husband, Des, had just arrived. She'd been having contractions since 11 pm the following night, and she was in a whole lot of pain. She paced around the delivery room, moaning, until a nurse appeared and demanded she take off all her clothes and get into a bed.

Her contractions were about 2-3 minutes apart. She'd be talking to me, in the middle of a sentence, and then suddenly stop, moan, and start crying. The fascinating thing about having your baby in a hospital is that they hook you up to this monitor which somehow measures the pressure in your womb. A big, digital, blinking green number flashes on a screen. You can see the pressure building through the course of the contraction. The number goes from 0 up to 50 or 60, and then back down again in a few seconds. Then, as quickly as they come, the contractions end. After each one, Ali would take a deep breath and say, "I can't take much more of these."

But she did. She took so much more than I ever imagined a human being could. The whole night, I tried to help in any way I could. I brought more ice chips. I put a cold compress on her head and neck. I pushed on her back and rubbed her shoulders and tried to encourage her. Her husband did the same. But mostly we just stood back and marveled at her strength and tenacity. As the contractions got closer and closer together, they also got more intense, until the digital readout started going up to 100, 125. At these moments, Ali didn't cry or scream. She just sort of went into this weird, sub-concious mode of breathing and starring blankly. I don't think she was inside her head or anywhere. I think she was doing all she could to keep from passing out. It's amazing that so many women live through labor - it's so intense - but you can begin to understand how before modern medicine and hospitals and all that, so many didn't make it.

By 2 am the doctors told her to start pushing, and push she did. I watched her focus her energy, and how it made her vulva pulse back and forth. For an agonizing hour, I watched the baby's head poke through and then hide again as Ali learned how to push with no progress. By this time, there were six people in the room - nurses, doctors, husband and friend - all shouting encouragement at her. I can't imagine what the experience was like for her, but for me it was surreal, strange, and exciting. Finally, the doctor cut her to make more room, and the baby slipped out, effortlessly. We all clapped and cheered. I cried with relief, seeing that the baby was whole, safe, breathing and moving. The entire place was covered with blood, shit, tears and sweat. We all muddled around in it, hugging, kissing, and high-fiving one another.

I admire my friend's strength. I'm envious of the connection she has with her husband, who stood next to her for twelve hours and whispered his love for her, even when she was screaming and senseless. The baby is beautiful, but tiny and alien looking. I feel so appreciative to have been invited to be a part of the experience. But I think it'll be a while before I'm ready to do it myself.

North Fork, second week of August

2007-08-20T16:39:00.000-04:00

Larry's sister, Somer, got an idyllic house-sitting job out on the North Fork of Long Island, near the town of Southold. The house was situated just steps form a Long Island Sound beach, and a short drive from just about anywhere you'd want to go in both the North Fork and the Hamptons. I spent a couple of days out there enjoying the vineyards, farmer's markets, and sun.

An epic kayaking trip was the highlight of the weekend.

In the industry, we call it "magic hour"

Near collision with Eddie and Somer

There are a lot of pictures like this, because Larry had the dry bag.

This trip taught me a lot about myself. I know now that I can bike 16 miles in the hot sun and not die. I know I can cook fish without it turning out disgusting. I learned that I do not like rye whiskey, but I also learned how to make lavendar simple syrup. I learned that not all parts of Long Island are repugnant. I'll be back.

Recommendations in the North Fork:
The Frisky Oyster - we ate here not once, but twice. Great cocktails and good local food.
Wolfer Estate - Somer's getting married here, just as soon as she gets engaged.
Biophilia Organic Farm and CSA - best tomatoes ever
Greenport, LI - I love everything about this town!
Eagle's Neck Paddling - Doug was a great guide on our sunset paddle.

Maine Country, Last week of July

2007-08-20T16:23:00.000-04:00

My good friends, Ali and Des, rented a sweet little cabin out in the Maine woods with room to spare, so Larry and hightailed it up there for some chillaxing country times. Some highlights of the trip included:

Swimming in Coos Canyon

Shopping at the LL Bean store in Freeport, Maine

Playing, climbing, and generally being silly at Popham Beach State Park

Recommendations for the great state of Maine:
When in Portland, we love -
Ferdinand for cards, journals and tshirts
Uffa for fresh, romantic, seasonal food (soon to be closed!)
Angela Adams for bar glasses we always look at but never buy
Herb's Gully for burritos and trival pursuit
Sanctuary Foot Soak - a decidedly weird, but overall good, experience.
Maine, in general -
Hannafords - we love big box grocery stores. They're so...quaint.
Did you know Maine is one of four states to have outlawed billboards?

Home Again - July 12th thru 16th

2007-08-20T16:16:00.000-04:00

Larry and I spent a week in Suburban Detroit to help celebrate my sister's marriage to her life-long beau, Jer Bear.

Katie's got a ton of pictures up at her myspace. I think there are approximately 800 shots of what was a beautiful, traditional ceremony and fun reception which included KARAOKE, my favorite! The Jones kids are dropping like flies.

2 out of 4 Jones kids agree - tying the knot beats out living in sin! (The other two aren't so sure).

We spent the days afterwards exploring Lake Huron and the Henry Ford museum, both of which were fun diversions from wedding craziness.

Saugerties Weekend, June 30th thru July 1st

2007-08-20T16:01:00.000-04:00

Larry and I, in desperate need of a break from the big city, took a trip up North to our favorite little town of Saugerties, NY. It was the weekend before the 4th of July, school was out, and Larry had just bought his new iPhone, so we were in good spirits. We booked a pretty room at a bed and breakfast, picked up a zip car, and headed out.

We spent most of the weekend eating and sleeping, but we did get outside the first night to check out the Saugerties lighthouse trail, which was pretty mucky but awfully pretty.

Looking out to the Hudson through some marsh

We love Seibei!!!

The next day we got up and went for what our guidebook said was an "easy hike" up to a lookout over the Catskill Mountains (Platte Kill, to be specific). The walk to Huckleberry Point was only easy in comparison to the walk back from Huckleberry Point. Easy hikes are not easy when you 1)hate hiking and 2) are fat. But we made it there and back, got some gorgeous views in, and then, in true gormand fashion, spoiled ourselves silly with a completely retardedly-rich dinner in Woodstock.

Recommendations for Saugerties, NY and environs:
Smythe House Bed and Breakfast - the emphasis here is on breakfast, which was both beautifully presented and amazingly tasty. The hosts were super friendly and the house was gorgeous.
Adventure shorts and face soap at Target - just a few miles up the road in Kingston. Who knew?
Cafe Tamayo - a $35 prix fixe that features duck confit? Yes, please.
The Red Onion - I loved this place. Larry liked it okay. Really, really good food and nice cocktails.

Back from the Brink

2007-07-09T11:35:00.000-04:00

Our second annual fourth of July backyard bbq/fireworks extravaganza was a wild success.

We had a ton of people over for moroccan mini-burgers and other assorted meats. There was enough beer to rot the liver out of just about everyone.

It was rainy, but a good time was had by all.

This photo was taken after Larry lit his hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes on fire with lighter fluid. Ouch!

We made the trek to Larry's studio on the river in the rain to see the fireworks show. To get on the roof, you have climb up a scary ladder --

Not all of us were psyched by the prospect...

I think those smiles are really grimaces of true fear.
But we all made it, or, at least, most of us, and enjoyed a spectactular show -- not one, not two, but three shows simultaneously!

This is the downtown, midtown, and uptown Macy's fireworks shows going off at the same time in the east river. Once in a while, you could catch the Staten Island show over the tops of the buildings. Best view in town! All in all, it was a great, albeit wet, night. Thanks to everyone who made it, who brought food, who helped clean up, and who shared the gun-powder fueled love!

That night I woke up shaking and shivering with a 104 degree fever that is just now (four days later) subsiding. I barely averted death, and I'm not sure how or why I've been marked for survival. It feels so amazingly good to stand, walk, and move today without bone wracking pain and nausea. I still can't really eat much, but at least I can feel recovery coming on.

And now we've come to the end of the road...

2007-06-29T10:56:00.000-04:00

The past few months have been a total crazy blur. My career as an educator is over, and, just as it came in, it went out with a bang.

First, we had Harbor School prom, which took place on board a yacht. We did a three-hour-tour around NY Harbor. There were about 50 kids and 20 staff members there, a few with dates. The girls looked glamorous, the boys were pimped out:

My advisory -- Me and these kids have been together for four years. I love them dearly.

The thing that stood out most for us, the staff, on prom night, was how well all the kids got along. Sure, there are cliques within the senior class, and sure, not everyone loves everyone else. But EVERYONE was respectful and friendly to everyone else. Everybody danced, everybody smiled, there was zero drama. I respect the kids for that. My senior prom was most likely not at all like that, but I wouldn't know, because I didn't go -- I was an angry, disaffected closet goth girl who felt ostracized by just about everybody. But at Harbor, the disaffected goths fit right in with the cheerleaders, the breakers, and the enthusiastic, terminally unhip teachers.

Next came senior banquet, which I have no pictures of, but which turned out to be the most meaningful night ever. Each Advisor got 10 minutes to say nice things about their advisees -- Ali and I came up with Mock awards for our kids, and there were many tears. We were also supposed to get small gifts for each kid, so I had some flash drives printed up with the Harbor logo -- the kids were all about them! At the very end, we had a slideshow of four years of photos and an open mic where the kids could say anything they wanted -- there were many tears and lots of hugs. It was a really special night.

Graduation was Monday and it was sensational. First, we boarded a Water Taxi at Fulton Ferry and took one last ride together around the Harbor. It was choppy and I felt nauseaus the whole time, but the views were extraordinary.

The ceremony took place on Pier 17 at the South Street Seaport Museum. All the usual stuff -- speeches, awards, tears and excitement.

My advisee, Yoscar, made the best speech of the night -- his valedictorian address was amazing -- funny, touching, and well-delivered. That kid's got spunk.

At the end of the ceremony, after everyone got their diplomas and Nate said, "By the power vested in my by the city of New York City", the kids threw their caps in the air as 20 boats, some tall ships, some water taxis, and more, shot off water cannons and paraded up and down the Harbor. The kids and the parents and the staff, we were all cheering and clapping. It was a superb ending to four years at Harbor, and, for me, seven years as a public school educator.

This is why I teach for America.

Spring Break Project

2007-04-05T14:06:00.000-04:00

School is out and there's a sort of a buzz. A crafting buzz!!

I had some big time plans for the break, including getting some major sewing projects started, but this one about wore me out:

I made a cover for my sewing machine, loosely inspired by the patchwork one I saw here.

I will never do tiny patchwork again. What a pain in the ass. It looks nice on the outside, but you should see the inside -- it's an embarassing conglomeration of frayed ends, loose threads and puckered seams. Blah.

Next up, I want to use up as much of my scrap fabric as possible and bang out a couple of gifts for friends that are long overdue. Then it's a trip to Joanns to pick up fabric for a new spring skirt ala built by wendy. Very excited!

Crafty Christmas - A Belated Post

2007-03-01T16:08:00.000-05:00

Woohoo! The camera has finally returned to the warm arms of its home, and I've got photos galore of my xmas crafty adventures!

I had a couple of plots and plans for christmas presents for my loved ones. The first thing I wanted to make was some kind of cozy for my brother and my soon-to-be brother-in-law Jer Bear, who both got Nintendo Wiis last fall but had yet to come up with a way to transport their wiimotes and nunchucks (if you don't know what this stuff is, that's okay. You're probably just not a huge nerd). I had a design idea in my head, but needed help with the implementation.

First things first, Larry and I took a trip to Purl Patchwork and picked out some manly-esque fabric. I embrodiered wiimotes on the front of the cases:

Then I lined the inside and made pockets for the different devices, shown here with bobbins for scale.

All folded up, it looks pretty hot. And a wiimote fits the pocket like a glove. Like a glove!

I had a TON of those fabrics left, and I'd also received Amy Butler's In Stitches as a pre-christmas/chaunaka (sp) gift from my girl, Ali, so I whipped up a cute pleated apron for my new-and-lovely sister-in-law, Gloria, who is also a crafty beyotch in her own right. Check out her Etsy shop!

Blurry!

Finally, I made two versions of this patchwork garden apron, somewhat based on a pattern from yougrowgirl.com, but really not at all. I gave one to my mom and one to Ali.

Yes, I know my boobs are gigantic. What can I say? It's in the genes.

After all this crafting, I'm feeling much more confident with the sewing machine. My next mission is to make the patterns from Sew U, which I've been stalling on until I felt like I'd practiced enough. I'm good to go!

Momma went to Portland and all I got were these karaoke photos

2007-02-23T15:32:00.000-05:00

I just got back from Portland, Oregon, where I spent a lovely four days visiting my good friend, Amy. Unfortunately, Larry's brother still has the digital camera, so the only photos I have are of an evening of karaoke-induced debauchery.

A golden bird that flies away, a candle's fickle flame.

Can we just focus for a minute on how f-ing cool Portland is? I mean, the whole place is like a mini-Brooklyn, but for some reason the Portland hipsters don't make me want to bust heads like a Williamsburg trust-fund kid would. Maybe it's because everyone is so damn friendly. Maybe it's the clean air. Who knows.

Sans photos, I'll have to provide a link-a-licious summary of my activities. The first day, I did some vintage shopping, fueled by cups upon cups of Stumptown coffee. and picked up a hot jacket. As the week wore on, I ate tons of Laughing Planet burritos. Amy bought a gorgeous Queenbee bag. I had extreme bag envy. But I did spend an a glorious afternoon wandering the semi-genitrified streets of N/NE Portland, getting my craft-a-holic shop on. I refrained from breaking the bank, but was tempted by gorgeous dresses at Pin Me and Garnish. All I ended up buying was a Modish necklace at Mabel and Zora. I finished out the week with zines from Reading Frenzy and a half dozen Voodoo donuts.

Streetcars, mountains, waterfalls, and sketchy-ass karaoke bars. It's not New York, folks, but it's not so far off that I couldn't imagine a life there.

Especially considering my girl is already there, keeping it real Joan Jett style:

My Library!

2007-02-10T16:29:00.000-05:00

This is awesome!

Thanks Maritza!

Still no photos to post. I'll try to be a better blogger in the future.

Craft Weekend

2006-10-15T20:51:00.000-04:00

What a whirlwind weekend. Friday night's compulsory happy hour with the teachers at my school turned out to be a little more fun than it should be (if "fun" is measured in how hung over you are the next day). I spent Saturday at school, nursing my hangover and helping kids draft their personal statements for their college apps. I got home, and spent the better part of the evening working on a laptop sleeve for my little cousin's birthday. It turned out pretty cool:

The design on the front was inspired by an old episode of Stylelicious. The bag itself is my own design, but I used a chapter in Bizarre Bazaar to help me with the lining, as I'd never done anything like it before.

It looks nice, but there were some serious technical problems, mostly stemming from the fact that I'd stiched everything in place wrong sides together and then couldn't turn the entire thing right side out without ripping out seams. I ended up cheating and using a little fusible web to hold the flap's lining in place. Hopefully it'll hold up.

I gave it to my cousin at her birthday party last night, wine and cheese in Bushwick. Today I graded papers with my friend Awilda and then had a lovely dinner at Masso, in my neighborhood.

Relaxing, crafty weekends are more of what I need, in general.

Split Rock Revelations

2006-10-07T19:24:00.000-04:00

Thanks to the largess of the Department of Education, I spent the weekend at Split Rock Resort in the Poconos on a "Technology Retreat." Basically I sat in a room for hours listening to some guy talk about the "blogosphere revolution" and how if, as an educator, you are not "clickable" - that is, have a web-prescence - then you are not relevant to your students. Okay, fine. Teachers should have blogs where they discuss the latest "best practices," "strategies for differentiation" and tons of other edu-speak jargon for the reading pleasure of other teachers. Alright, still sort-of with him, I guess. He considers himself a "blog-evangelist," brining the important world of blogging to the masses. I won't link to his page here because he prides himself on being third on the list when one googles his first name, "will." He doesn't need anymore trackbacks.

The problem with his speech wasn't just his tendency to "bloviate" (the SAT word for the day on Thurs). Mainly, he was just preaching to the choir. Most of the teachers at this retreat were selected for it because we are already huge nerds who are extremely "clickable" and are already using innovative, interactive technologies in the classroom, so we weren't the ones who specifically needed to hear his message. But he made me a little angry during his keynote when he started badmouthing knitting blogs! He admitted to being a blog-snob, but then said he can't see the value in blogs about "random things" like knitting or schnauzers. I had to raise my hand and say, "You know what? I love reading knitting blogs and I feel like they are a very valid form of blogging - perhaps more interesting because they represent a way for creative people to share ideas that aren't political or snarky or pretentious." I mean, come on. Not everyone lives, eats, and breathes pedagougy.

The main objective of the retreat was to make a teacher blog, but I worked on the website for my school instead, and came up with some good ideas for how to use blogs in some of the other content areas at my school. My friend, Rick, made a hilarious blog using our new webcams (courtesy of YOUR NYC tax dollars) about the trip's various adventures. For those of you who've ever been to a corporate retreat, maybe you can relate.

Oh, and...

2006-10-03T21:36:00.000-04:00

Just to put it out there, here's the link to Larry's ORIGINAL design LIC Tshirt. Buy them up! They're soft, cozy, and bright green!

Apple Mountain

2006-10-03T21:07:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was Yom Kippur, and I decided to spend the high holidays with a few of my Jewish, half-Jewish, and Goyim friends picking apples in the Hudson River Valley.

I absolutely love this part of New York State. From Saugerties to Hudson to Olana and Opus 40, there's so much to love about the region. And spending a Monday in Warwick, NY at Masker's apple orchard was about as nice as I could have hoped.

Masker's was chosen because of the positive language they used to describe their rules on their website. Tim, a fellow teacher, said the other apple orchards in the area were all about listing the things you could NOT do, but Masker's encouraged you think about all the fun things you could. This is smart pedagougy, because it empowers young people (like ourselves) to do the right thing, not through intimidation but through the burden of responsibility. The joint was crowded, but definitly fun. The views were awesome:

The apples were huge and falling off the trees:

And everyone was happy, even the babies:

Check out that hand knit sweater Gideon's modelling! Hotness!

The only hard part was hiking up and down the mountain with a bag of apples that only gained weight as we went. I hate hiking SO BAD. I believe the whole concept of walking up a hill just to look around at other hills, and then walk back down again is seriously demented, and was probably developed as a form of torture by the freaking Ojibwa or something. Some cider and donuts soothed my sore calves, and now I have more yummy apples than I know what to do with. Pies? Cakes? Aw yeah.

Mariah Part III: Revenge of the Zipper

2006-10-01T23:32:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, after viewing the world's most expensive painting (ooh! glittery!) at Neue Galerie, Larry and I hit up Barnes and Noble and I bought the glorious Sew U, a how-to sewing book with three hot patterns attached. Inside, Built by Wendy advocates patience, planning, and attention to detail when it comes to sewing. Now, everyone who knows me knows I have none of the above. But, I decided that it's time I learned the value of hardwork, so I dug out poor little Mariah and decided to give installing her zipper one final go.

A little google research turned up the following process for installing a zipper into a handknit sweater:

Step 1: Baste the two front pieces together using yarn. (if you look close you can almost see Larry playing hours of Warcraft on the left of each of these. He's an elf, and he's addicted)

Step 2: Flip the sweater inside out and pin the zipper in (a good tip: I put a plastic cutting board inside to keep my pins from going through both layers of the sweater).

Step 3: Baste the zipper in.

Step 4: Turn her rightside out, unzip, and make sure everything is cool (there is no photo documentation of this step as I was too excited to finish to stop and take pictures).
Step 5: Sew the zipper using the school's sewing machine that you co-opted for summer break.

This basically took me all day. It sucked, not just because I'd already done this twice before, but also because I had to keep reminding myself not to rush through any of the steps or do anything half-ass (as my dad would say). Taking my time and trying to do a good job is completly against my nature. I'm way more into having something "finished" than "finished well." But I've been watching a lot of Rachel Ray and Oprah lately and thinking about, you know, remembering my spirit and shit. So I tried to be good and worked my ass off on this, my third attempt to zipper Mariah. And the results?

Not so bad from this angle.

But check this out. WTF? I mean, I did everything right! Someone, please tell me where I went wrong!!!

And what should I do with these??? Cut them? Hand sew them into the hood?

I'd say she's as done as she's going to get. I can only stand so much self-improvement for one day.

Sock Wars!

2006-09-29T21:50:00.000-04:00

The first rule of Sock Wars is YOU WILL NOT GET TOO EXCITED ABOUT SOCK WARS. The second rule of Sock Wars is YOU WILL NOT GET SO EXCITED ABOUT SOCK WARS THAT YOU BELIGERENTLY BRAG ABOUT IT TO ALL THE KNITTERS YOU KNOW. If you break the above two rules, you will be sorely, sorely disappointed.

Yes, it happened. Sock Wars blew up in my face. Helen was right. I hate to say it, but it's true.

So, Sock Wars was this little knitting blog competition that started out so, so great. You sign up for Sock Wars and wait for someone to email you a dossier on your "target" - another knitter for whom you must knit a pair of socks. You have to finish your socks and send them off before your assassin finishes the socks intended for you. In the end, everyone has socks except the winner of Sock Wars, who doesn't need socks, because she (or he) is a total badass and has the thrill of victory to keep them warm.

So I was really, really excited about Sock Wars. So I signed up. And sang its praises. For weeks. While I waited. And I heard nothing. From anyone. About Sock Wars.

And tonight I get home from a lovely evening of boozing it up with teacher friends (the normal friday night routine) only to find a package awaiting me. Inside? These gorgeous hand-knit socks, which Medea is sniffing in this shot:

Which should make me smile. But instead, they are soul crushing, because they mean I am dead. And I never even got a chance to play!!!

Something went horribly wrong in the chain of command over there at Sock Wars. I hear they're blaming it on a hurricane. But I feel like a total shit because I was so out of the loop and still ended up with a phat pair of socks, my first pair of hand-knit socks, that fit oh-so-nice. What to do? I guess suck it up and hope the whole shebang is better organized next year.

Swap it up!

2006-08-26T14:01:00.000-04:00

Wednesday I had to go into work for the first time in almost two months. Susan, a fellow teacher by day and hip jewelry designer by night, did a good job of describing that sinking "returning to school for the fall" feeling, so I won't try to imitate her here. Let's just say that taking that 100 year old elevator to the fourth floor of my school and stepping out into the dark and dingy hall gave me a bit of an anxiety attack. Soon these halls would be pulsing with kids and energy, but right now they just smelled like roach spray and hopelessness.

Anyway, I was feeling down, but this picked me up:

My first ever swap package! Kerry, the very nice lady who was my swap partner, sent me some lovely laceweight yarn in a very pretty, bright green, two challenging looking patterns, and a nice card. Thanks so much, Kerry! I'm going to have to send my swap partner's package out a little on the late side, as my trip to Spain sort of sidetracked my yarn shopping. But not to fear! I've got some good ideas in the works.

Before we left for Spain, I finished covertible and blocked it. Gorgeous!

Because I couldn't find any more yarn in my dyelot, it's a little shorter than I'd anticipated, but I still love it. A super fun pattern and the yarn is such a cool color. Now all I have to do is figure out how to put together the antique buttons that Colette gave me.

My next major knitting related goal is finishing Mariah and putting in the zipper before I have to take the sewing machine back to school. Youthcraft season is almost upon us! Can you smell the excitement? Or is that just Medea?

Sevilla

2006-08-22T15:47:00.000-04:00

Sevilla is a city just as historic as Cordoba, but supposedly more lively and dramatic today. I have to admit, Cordoba felt like one big tourist trap compared to Seville, which seemed like home to real people. Kind of like midtown versus the upper west side - still touristy and rich, but you see more locals and families and there are less gift shops trying to hustle you into buying useless crap you'll never use.

After the debacle in Algeciras, we'd decided we deserved some spoiling, so we reserved rooms at the Hotel Los Seises, a former palace for an Arch-bishop that the useless and offensive Lonely Planet had described as rather luxirious. It was rather luxirious, I suppose, but the whole place had a sort of circa 1992 feeling about its decor. But there was a rooftop pool (freezing cold, but it was there), gorgeous and cozy bathroom, and the restaurant even had ruins inside. How cool is that?

As soon as we got to Seville we had some lunch at a tapas place and then walked all the way across town to Triana, a neighborhood across the Rio Guadalquivir that used to be the home of the gypsy population before they got pushed out to the suburbs. Larry spent a blissful hour or so shopping in the all the little tile shops there, indulging his tile obsession, but winding up with far too much to carry. Then we hit up the English bookstore and headed back to the hotel for swimming and siesta.

We had more tapas for dinner at a cute restaurant with a really nice wait staff, and then decided, despite our bad experience in Granada, to go to Seville's local bathhouse redux, the Aire de Sevilla. You have to go to the website and look at some of the pictures. This place was unreal. It kicked so much ass, it's kind of hard to describe in words. Basically, it was three floors of fun in an old palace. The top floor was a cozy tea room and a changing area. You went down the steps into a relaxation room, dark and cool. From there, you passed into a huge room with arched ceilings. The whole floor was a warm, waist-deep pool. To get to the next room, you had to wade through the pool, under an arch, and around the corner. I felt like a princess in some Egyptian palace. In the next room, there was a hot pool and an ice cold pool (like cold pools were meant to be) that threatened to freeze your extremeties in mere seconds. Also on this floor, there was a steam room and a jacuzzi. Finally, on the last floor, there was an "arabic salt bath", which was basically the same as the warm pool, but more cozy. We finished the evening off with showers that had those cool waterfall heads on them, so you felt like you were being enveloped in water. The best part about the whole evening was that we go there so late (after midnight) that Larry and I were the only customers and we had the whole complex to ourselves! It was romantic, relaxing, soothing -- the best!

The next day we moved hotels and then visited Seville's Archivos des Indias, the main repository for all documents relating to the American colonies. Bascially, it's a huge palace with thousands upon thousands of old maps, books, and letters. The secret librarian in me almost died and went to heaven. They had two exhibits, one on city planning and one on Columbus's journey (the Spanish fucking love Columbus. He is the total man here). Both were in Spanish, but we didn't care! It was hard to photograph the exhibits, but maps like this one were what it was all about. I LOVE maps, by the way.

Next we visited Seville's Alcazar. It was originally a palace for visiting Islamic emirs from Cordoba. Later, after the Christian reconquest, Pedro the Cruel (a king of Spain) redecroated it using artisans from his buddy's fortress on the Alhambra, Muhammad of Granada. The whole place is in what's called Mudajar style - Christian interpretation of Islamic design. The walls say both "No conquerer but Allah" in Arabic and "Pedro kicks some serious ass" in Latin. Or, something like that. Kind of contradictory, but totally beautiful.

There was also a gothic castle and some gorgeous gardens.

We had lunch at a pizza place Larry was dying to go to (housed in more ancient Arabic baths) and then siesta'd for awhile. We wanted to hit up some stores in the city center (Zara! Zara home! Fabric stores too cool to be believed!) but it was Saturday night and they were all closed. We had dinner at a caribbean fusion place instead, which Larry thought was the best tapas yet (tostones AND jamon, falafel AND ajoblanco) and called it a night.

Our last day in Spain was spent in Italica, Roman ruins just outside Seville. After having seen so many roman and greek ruins, especially amazing ones like Ephesus, I wasn't so impressed with Italica, which looks like there's some serious work left to do as far as restoration goes. There were some awesome mosaics, though, and a cool coliseum.

After Italica, we walked 1.5 km in the hot sun to a nearby monastary, which was interesting but all the signage was in Spanish. Then we returned to Sevilla for siesta, dinner, and an early bedtime in prepartion for our flight home.

The entire trip was so amazing. Larry and I saw so many amazing things, learned so much (including key spanish phrases like "Dos cervesas, por favor") and had a blast. I'm so glad I have such a cool-headed and adventurous travel partner, because travelling with someone you love is so much more fun than travelling on your own. In fact, it's pretty much more fun than anything else I can think of.

Cordoba

2006-08-22T15:02:00.000-04:00

After Jerez, we took the Andalucia Express through Seville and onto Cordoba, once the largest and most influential city in Europe. That was 1000 years ago, but it's still impressive, and, judging by the amount of pictures we took of it, the most interesting city we visited.

First off, we checked into our hotel, which was so cute it almost hurt to stay there. Well, maybe my headache was caused by too much sherry at lunch and the smell of stale cigarette smoke in the sheets (EVERYONE smokes in Spain. It's actually pretty gross).

We went directly (after our boozy lunch) to Cordoba's Mezquita, or Grand Mosque. Orignally built when Cordoba was the capital of Islamic Spain in the 900s, the mosque has been added to and enhanced (or ruined, depending on who you talk to) by several cultures ever since. First the romans built a temple here, which the Visigoths knocked down (who are these elusive visigoths? I need to learn more about them). Then the moors bought the Viisgothic church and used materials from it to build the Mezquita. Finally, after the reconquest of Cordoba in the 1200s, the Christians built a gigantic cathedral right smack dab in the middle.

You have to enter through a huge gate into the walled-in Patio des Naranjas (orange tree courtyard) to get into the mezquita. The courtyard is very pretty with it's fountains where ritual cleansing was completed before entering the mosque.

Inside, the mosque is so big it's overwhelming. The whole space is covered in red and white archways.

On the back wall of the mosque, there is the quibla, or prayer room, facing the direction of Mecca. The faithful would come to the Mezquita every friday at noon, and this area was where the Imam and the Emir would have prayed. It was gorgeously decorated with golden tiles from Istanbul.

The catholic cathedral was also gorgeous, in its own way, but it didn't feel like it belonged in the middle of the open, airy, Islamic space. It felt like a massive roadblock to the flow of the space.

After a short siesta, we ventured into the Juderia, or jewish quarter of Cordoba. We had another refreshingly un-spanish meal at Amaltea, a kind of organic fusion place that I loved. Then we went to a free, open-air flameco concert at the Alcazar de Reyes Catholicos. It was our first exposure to flameco, and what a beautiful setting. These gardens were amazing, built for the Catholic Monarchs after their reconquest of the city.

Unfortunately, those pictures were taken the next day when we returned to the gardens, because the camera wasn't charged on the night of the flamenco performance, so I have no pictures of the dancers or their costumes. The flameco show was awesome, if only for the dancing and the setting. It was hard to get into the guitar playing and the singing, and most of the show was just two old Spanish dudes singing in Spanish about something that I couldn't understand while sitting down. Not what I expected. But when the dancers were on stage, I was mezmerized by their talent. Flameco dance is basically foot stomping and macho posturing -- trying to look as bad ass as possible while keeping time with your foot, castenets, or a big cane. As I watched the show, the liberal arts student in me was feeling a little perplexed -- you see, Flamenco was developed as a form of protest and an expression of oppression by the gypsies, an underrepresented minority group who are basically hated and reviled by Spaniards. But Spaniards (and tourists) love flameco! And they love to dress up in gypsy outfits and affect gypsy ways and sing romantic gypsy songs. But none of them will stop and give a euro or two to any of the real gypsy women who are hanging out in front of the mezquita, breastfeeding their babies barefoot with toothless pleas to passersby. I mean, is there an American equivalent for this kind of blatant romanticizing of an oppressed culture by those in power? Maybe our fascination with hip hop or Elvis's appropriation of the blues? Larry's eyes sort of glazed over when I tried to tell him about what I was thinking.

Anyway, I'll save the rest for my dissertation. The next day in Cordoba we did a whilrwind tour (in the rain!) of some major museums and sights including the Belle Arts Museum and the Julio Romero Torres Museum, both housed in an old hospital, focusing on the works of Romero Torres who painted dark, sensual paintings of dark, sensual spanish ladies.

We also hit up the Inn at the Plaza del Potro, described by Cervantes in Don Quoixte as a "den of thieves"

We saw the awesome Archeological museum with some cool finds from the Iberian, Roman, Visigothic, and Muslim occupations of the area and the Casa Andalusi, a spot that the abysmal failure of a guide, Lonely Planet, called "museum". It cost 4 euros each to get in and was basically a cheesy gift shop. But it was a pretty gift shop.

We also explored the city walls and a roman temple.

We returned to the Alcazar at dusk before having a nice dinner with more meat and potatoes. The night views of the city were almost as pretty as those during the day.

Cordoba turned out to be far more interesting and engaging than I'd thought. I wish we could have stayed a bit longer, but it was time to move on to the last city of our journey, Seville!

The Happy Mice of Jerez and other scams

2006-08-22T14:23:00.000-04:00

The now completly disregarded and disavowed Lonely Planet said that Jerez de la Fronterra, a small agricultural town between Cadiz and Seville, was "guarunteed to beguile." Well, we weren't beguiled. But, we weren't miserable, either. There was enough in Jerez to keep us moderately busy for two nights.

Jerez is part of the sherry triangle -- a small region in spain where the soil is just chalky enough and the wind just strong enough to allow for the produciton of sherry, a sweet wine that we think is an apertif. Sherry is actually named after the town of Jerez, which in the messed-up Andalucian dialect is pronounced "heh-reh."

The thing to do in Jerez is to visit the wineries -- called bodegas -- and go on tours. So we picked the closest bodega, that of Gonzalez Byass, but we were felling dubious. You see all the other wineries had fancy brochures with classy pictures of horses jumping over wine barrels and dudes in cool, spangly outfits holding whips. Gonzalez Byass was home to Tio Pepe, a cheesy-sounding sherry whose logo was a wine bottle wearing a gay little costume and holding a guitar.

Also, the brochure for the bodega said the tour included a train ride and a visit with the "Happy Mice of Jerez" tm, which I imagined must be some kind of animatronic display for the kids of creepy mechanical mice singing flamenco songs. But, as it was August 15th, a national holiday in Spain, and Gonzalez Byass was pretty much the only place open in the whole town, we bit the bullet and went.

We didn't really have to worry. The bodega was gorgeous -- all sculpted gardens, old buildings with vines for roofs, and everywhere the smell of sweet dessert wine.

The tour was also more sophisticated than I'd thought it would be, led by a smart and funny sommelier who took us through the process of making sherry. Sure, the train was totally dumb. As was the short film they had us watch. And the tour group we were with was made up almost entirely of screaming Italian babies. But the bodegas where the wine barrels are kept were beautiful, cool, and serene. The ancient distileries, purchased from the Arabs who were making sherry in the year 1000, were museum pieces, and each building we visited had it's own story. One was filled with barrels that had been signed by celebrities over the past 200 years - Franco, Churchill, the Spanish Royal Family, even Esther Williams and Chelsea Clinton.

We learned too much about the sherry making process. Basically, grapes are pressed and the resulting liquid is stored in barrels made from American oak. Some sherry, the fino sherry, is stored in half full barrels that are coated with yeast. That yeast protects the fino from being exposed to the air, so the wine stays a very pale color. Lesser grapes are used to make oloroso or amatialldo sherry, which is not coated in yeast and therefore oxidises and turns a darker color (although still pretty pale if you ask me). Wine barrels are stored three high. The older barrels on the bottom (the solera, or floor) are constantly being emptied out halfway and filled again with wine from the middle and top barrels (younger). Basically the sherry is blended so that each batch tastes exactly the same, regardless of variations in seasonal product. Larry didnt' like that part. Finally, brandy is added to the sherry when it's bottled, which makes it super strong and also makes it taste kind of shitty, in my opinion. Gonzalez Byass also makes it's own brandy (lepanto) and sherry vinegar.

After the tour of the bodegas, the tour guide took us to a room where there was a tiny ladder on the floor, leaned up against a full glass of Solera 1837, a dark sweet dessert sherry, which was accompanied by a traditional basket of crackers and bread, like you would get at any restaurant in Spain. The guide explained that this was the home of the "Happy mice of Jerez," who love to drink the wine of Gonzalez Byass. He said if we were quiet, we might see some of the bodega's mice come out and take a sip of the wine, but that sometimes they fell into the glass and drowned. Not surprisingly, no mice came out to play. They had pictures on the wall of mice taking sips of wine, and the guide said it was too hot for them and they were probably on siesta. Now, I was glad that there weren't any major-magic type animatronic mice, but jesus christ, couldn't they have some trained mice that they could send out every time a tour group came by? The whole tour was a already totally contrived situation as it was already. We wouldn't have minded a little more inauthenticity. And I wanted to see some mice get fucked up!

The tour ended in a big open warehouse decorated like Oktober-fest. Each table had a half bottle of fino Tio Pepe, which Larry and I drank very quickly and proceeded to get wasted. They also poured us a glass of Bristol Cream (apparently the British fucking love sherry - Shakespeare wrote about it in a few of his plays), which we preferred to the Tio - it was sweeter and thicker. Then we went down to the Tio Pepe shop and tasted more wine, and some brandy, and were basically giggly, retarded messes by the end. We bought some sherry and some vinegar which was later confiscated in madrid, and tried to sleep off our boozey-ness.

The rest of our time in Jerez was spent sleeping, eating some delicious meals (one with the best bottle of rioja ever, but we didnt' catch the name of vineyard), and visiting the old Islamic Alcazar, which had pretty gardens, more ruined baths, and an awesome old pharmacy in the Christian palace. It also had a Camera Obscura, which we didn't see because it cost a lot of money. What is it with Spain and Camera Obscuras? They had one in Granada too. I don't get it.

Our last night in Jerez was a perfect Spanish evening. We woke up from our afternoon siesta, wandered around to two or three different bars eating amazing tapas and drinking tinto de veranos (wine spritzers, my new favorite), and finished the night off with a walk through the cool breeze of the late night eating handmade gelato. I mean, come on. THIS is why I wanted to come to Spain.

Shit, maybe I was beguiled afterall.

Sad Days of Sweat and Frustration

2006-08-22T13:43:00.000-04:00

We left Ronda on Day 10 for Algeciras, the main port for boats to North Africa. The plan, if you could call it a plan, was to get to Algeciras, make a reservation by phone with a hotel in Tangier, and then take a ferry to Morocco. The back up plan was to make a reservation and take a bus to nearby Tarifa, a hip beach town and surfer's paradise on the Spanish coast. We'd abandoned the hope of making it to Marakkesch, deciding the 8 hour train trip there and 8 hours back was too much time spent travelling. I'd done some research online and found some beautiful hotels on the coast in Tangier, and figured a few nights in Morocco's dirtiest, dingiest city wouldn't be so bad if we had a nice mansion to sleep in.

Unfortunately, we arrived in Algeciras late. The much detested Lonely Planet guide said the port town was not without it's charms, but this was a blatant lie. Algeciras is completely without charms. It's dirty, crowded, hot, and a little scary. We called every hotel in Tangier with no luck -- everyone was booked up for the weekend. Next, we called every hotel in Tarifa. Also booked up, except most places claimed to be booked for all of August! Finally, we called every hotel in Algeciras, figuring we could sleep there tonight somewhere halfway decent and go to Morrocco in the morning. Again, no luck. It was getting dark, we were in a town whose economy is supported almost entirely by hash and illegal immigration, and we had no where to sleep.

(This picture is actually from Barcelona and the look of sadness was motivated by not being able to get into the "cava under the stars" event at one of Gaudi's houses, but it pretty much sums up the night we spent in Algeciras. Oh, except that I'm clean, wearing makeup, and not sweating my ass off while being harassed by drug dealers on the street. Otherwise it's pretty much the same.)
We hoofed it around the port area with our backpacks and walked into every hotel, hostal and pension we found. Each was either booked up or very, very scary. One place had a two bed room free, but the blankets on the bed convinced me that we would get crabs. Another place smelled very bad and cost 45 euros for one night. We ended up ata Hostal Marrakesch, a sketchy, filthy joint recommended by the clearly-written-by-someone-on-acid Lonely Planet as a "quaint" and "exotically decorated" hostal costing 18 euros a night. The con artist at the desk saw the desperation in our eyes and charged us 40 euros for a sandy room with no ac or fan. We couldn't find anywhere to eat dinner that wasn't frightening, and Larry was still nursing his stomach from the Granada tapas debacle, so we bought some cheese and bread from a bodega full of drunk hobos and tried to sleep in the sweltering room. In the morning we gingerly showered in the dirtiest communal bathroom in the world and got the fuck out of town.

Now, you may think I'm exaggerating here, or that I'm overreacting or a spoiled American tourist, but trust me. I've travelled all over Turkey and Greece, alone, mind you, and slept and shat in some pretty questionable establishments. But Algeciras took the fucking cake. We were in no mood to brave Morrocco after that, especially the port town of Tangier which promised to be Algeciras part two (Marrakkesh, I'm convinced would have been much nicer), so we took a bus to Cadiz, further up the Spanish coast. We both breathed a sigh of relief once we were on the road again.

Larry and I had decided that main reason we had been forced to spend a night in god's forgotten corner of Spain was our committment to spontaniety. So, in Algeciras, we'd sat down at a public phone center (kind of like an Internet cafe, where you made as many calls as you wanted on their phone and then they charged you at the end) and made reservations at hotels for every night left of our trip in every town we thought we might want to go to. In Cadiz, we reserved a room at a small hostal the was recommened in the untrustworthy Lonely Planet. However, when we got there and tried to check in, the jerk behind the desk told me we didn't have a reservation at all, and refused to help us find somewhere else to sleep. So there we were again, left wandering around an unfamiliar town late in the day, looking for accomodation. At this point, I was ready to write an extremely angry letter to the folks at Lonely Planet and tell them just where to get off. But Larry kept a cool head (as he always does) and found us a really posh and nice place to sleep. It was expensive and fancy, but at that point, the budget was out the window and we just needed rest. Rest and crossaints.

Cadiz was actually a very pretty and interesting town with a long history (it's considered one of the oldest cities in Europe, as it was founded by the Phonecians in 1100 bc!). It's winding streets were home to a ton of stores and restaurants - including a yellow rat bastard! But, it was Sunday, so everything was closed. We went swimming in the other-side-of-the Atlantic ocean at the dirty and crowded town beach, and had a great, meat-and-potatoes dinner at a local spot recommended by the hotel's concierage. The next day we went to a Mel Ramos exhibition at the town hall. Ramos is a pop art bigwig whose oil paintings of naked women superimposed over enlarged logos of multi-national corporations is *not* a criticism of mass media and the comodification of the female form, at least according to him.

We also spent some time at the Bishop's Palace, another archeological site underneath a more modern Christian building (or another "sweaty basement" as Larry referred to it), and took a train to Jerez de la Fronterra. I could have spent more time in Cadiz, because it seemed like a fun and lively place to be -- a beach town on a windy coast whose specialty dish was deep fried fish -- but we needed to move on and recover from the stress of the last few days.

Ronda

2006-08-22T13:06:00.000-04:00

Let's face it. By Day 7, Larry and I were starting to smell like real Europeans. We'd been sweating for days, and we needed to wash some clothes. We also were desperately in need of shower gel and a shower poof, and hadn't been able to find anywhere to buy such items for a week! We spent the morning wandering around Granada with our heavy packs on, looking for a laundromat. It was around this time that the beloved Lonely Planet guide started to become the most hated tome in history. The laudromats (lavanderias) cited there were far away, the maps of the city were inaccurate, and, worst of all, both were closed for the entire month of August! Now we were not only dirty and smelly, we were also pissed off.

By the time we got to Ronda, a few hours away by train, we felt much better. Ronda, so named because it's a tiny town surrounded by mountains, was built on the edge of a huge gorge, called "El Tajo" or "the sheer drop"by the Spanish people who reconquered the town in the 1400s from the Muslims. Allow me to demonstrate:

The major tourist activity in Ronda is, basically, looking around at all the crazy views.

The old town, built on one side of the gorge, is full of winding streets and tiny cafes and hotels. The new town, on the other side, is home to Ronda's huge bullring, and some of our favorite parts of the city, including two (count 'em, two!) lavanderias, many perfumerias (little rite aid type places where we had our choice of body soaps), a supermarket with low prices called Spar, and, best of all, El Grifo. This little self-serve cerveceria was one of the highlights of the trip. Yummy tapas, friendly waiters, and a tap at every table. You should have seen the gleam in Larry's eye as he poured his own pint of Mahou.

Both parts of the town are connected by a series of dramatic bridges, the most beautiful of which is the Puerta Nueva.

An interesting sidenote that was in the back of my mind the whole time we were there -- supposedly, during the Spanish Civil War, Republicans in Ronda rounded up a whole bunch of Franco supporters, made them run the gauntlet in front of the townhall, and then threw them off the cliff to their very deaths. Hemingway wrote about the incident in For Whom the Bell Tolls. Chilling and horrible. I mean, this is a serious cliff. I would not want to die that way for my convictions. But a common theme in many of the historical places we visited was just that - stick to your guns in Spain, either polictial or religious guns, that is, and wind up very severely dead. Yuck.

Historical cruelty aside, we ended up really liking Ronda. The first night, we stayed in a really pretty, old hotel that was decorated with old photos of the town and even had it's own movie theater. We had dinner in another hotel, this one perched on the edge of the gorge. YOu can sort of see the patio we ate on in this picture:

Larry is terrified of heights, and had a difficult time enjoying his dinner, which was ridiculously good, although started a long string of heavy meat-and-potato dinners we were later to enjoy throughout the trip. He seemed to think we could die at any moment if this patio decided to slide down into the gorge. I encouraged him to enjoy his last meal.

The next day we visited some pretty Arab baths and walked around the city, moving to our new hotel, which was less swank but still comfortable.

We also visited two museums. One was dedicated to the career of Ronda's most famous son, a painter and friend of Picasso's named Joaquín Peinado whose paintings, drawings and prints were linear and graphic. We loved it. The other museum, which was an old house belonging to the Governor of South America where Ferdinand and Isabella had slept, was less engaging.

Dinner that night was at Trez, a hip-looking semi-vegetarian restuarant, whose yummy food more than made up for the shitty service in my opinion. Also, it was very nice to have a meal that included absolutely no pork products for the first time in days.

We really liked Ronda. It was pretty, accesible, and convienent. If we had only known the horror that was to follow in Algeciras, we may have decided to stay a bit longer. But, hindsight is 20/20, and our trip was about to take a sad turn.

La Alhambra

2006-08-22T11:20:00.000-04:00

On Day 6 of our trip, we woke up at 6 am in Granada and started walking up to the Alhambra. Our hotel was located on one side of a tiny street (Calle del Darro), with the Rio del Darro on the other side - more of a creek than anything else - giving way to the crazy tall cliff and the Alhambra above it.

The much hated Lonely Planet guide had suggested being in line at 7 am for the Alhambra, and Larry and I intended to make it there on time. But at 6 am in Spain in August, it's pitch black. Our plan included walking up the Cuesta des Chinos, a path near our hotel that led to the Alhambra gate, but in the darkness we were worried about being kidnapped by gypies and sold into white slavery, so we waited around outside for the sun to come up before starting our journey.

We reached the top at 7:20, and were amazed at the length of the line. I hadn't seen this many people in Granada in the two days we'd already spent there -- where did they all come from? We stood in line and waited. And waited. Five hours and one extremely fatty jamon y queso bocadillo later, we had our tickets.

The entrance system for the Alhambra is nuts. First, you stand in line for five hours. Then, you buy a ticket, which will be for either the morning (9 am) or the afternoon (2 pm). On your ticket, there is a half hour time slot stamped during which time you must enter the Nasrid Palaces, the main draw up here. We got tickets for 2 pm and a visit to the palaces at 2:30, so we went back down the hill, got lunch, and the came right back up.

So, a bit of history. The Alhambra was originally a fortress (alcazaba) complex built in the early 8th and 9th centuries, when the moors were just getting a foothold in Spain. During that time, the Muslims held the majority of the Iberian peninsula. Over the centuries, battles and skirmishes diminished the size of the empire until only Granada was left, and the Alhambra remained the home of the emirs of Granada until 1492, when the Alhambra was captured by Ferdinand and Isabelle. The Alhambra, the hilltop surrounded by walls and guard towers, contains many sights, but the main ones are the Nasrid Palaces - the home of the sultan and later, the Christian kinds - the Alcazaba, the fortress and military barracks, and the Generalife - the gardens and summer residence of the sultan.

Pictures can't really capture how amazing this place was. We spent the entire afternoon exploring it, finding new exciting surprises around every corner. The palaces, with their decoration, were breathtaking. Every surface was covered with carvings in Arabic ("There is no conquerer but Allah") and images of plants and geometric forms (portraying in art any creature with an immortal soul - animals or people - is forbidden in the Quran) or tiles, from the floors to the walls to the gilded ceilings.

All the detail work inspired a kind of obsession for Larry. Everywhere we went thereafter he was photographing tilework. He even bought a bunch of tiles in Seville's Triana district (for the backsplash our eventual Dwell-inspired home we want to build someday, somewhere) and carried them all the way home.

The palace has many rooms and patios, each with it's own fascinating history.

The Alcazaba military area was fascinating, mostly for it's views of the surrounding valley and the town of Granada.

The Generalife was so beautiful. It was almost impossible to take it all in -- the colors of the flowers, the smell of jazmine, tinkling flowing water everywhere -- I'm not a garden person, generally, but this place was heavenly.

Of all the places we've been on this trip, and maybe even all the places I've been in my life, the Alhambra was easily one of the most impressive. But wandering over it all day left us very tired.

So we spent the evening at Hammam, a modern interpreation of an Arabic bath house. The place was gorgeous -- low lighting, delicious smelling essential oils, flowers floating in tiled fountains -- but, having been to real baths in Turkey and NYC, this one felt a little like a sellout. I mean, the cold pool was a little too warm -- it didnt' take your breath away to jump in. The hot room was more lukewarm, there was no steam area, and the massage we got was nothing to write home about. It was a relaxing experience, but a bit of a letdown, and at 25 euros, a bit of a rip off. We had a couple of drinks, watched a chick fight in the main square, and went to bed happy.

Home Sweaty Home

2006-08-21T18:35:00.000-04:00

Larry and I made it back from Spain today in one happy piece, with only mind-numbing headaches and a few missing bottles of sherry to complain about (our booze was confiscated in Madrid! I was livid!). We took about 10 gazillion pictures, which Larry is currently going through and picking out the gems, so I'll be able to do some little updates of our escapades shortly.

There were far fewer internet cafes in Spain than I'd ancipated, and once we left Granada there just wasn't any real opportunity to blog. But don't worry! I'll be making up for lost time now, and with a serious vengence.

So, as opposed to our proposed itinerary, here's what we ACTUALLY did:

1) Barcelona, two nights
2) Granada, three nights
3) Ronda, two nights
4) Algeciras, 16 hellish hours
5) Cadiz, one night
6) Jerez de la Fronterra, two nights
7) Cordoba, two nights
8) Seville, three nights

New York is almost as hot and dry as Spain. Who knew?

La Cuenta, Por Favor

2006-08-08T06:14:00.000-04:00

Hola from Granada! Larry and I arrived in Spain safely four days ago after a long and moderately uncomfortable flight (who knew Delta was so ghetto?) Thanks to a heady combo of prescription valium and bloody marýs, Larry made it through the flight just fine.

Our hotel in Barcelona was just off La Rambla, the main street in the old part of town. It reminded me of a weird combo of Miami Beach, Times Square, and Athens.

We spent the first day wandering La Rambla. My favorite place was the Mercat de Boqueria (sp), a gorgeous open air market which we (unfortunately) did not take any photos of. We had an amazing Catalan dinner and slept off our jet lag.

Day 2 was a whirlwind tour of Barcelona´s architectural highlights, beginning with the gorgeous Cathedral in the Barri Gothik.

Followed by visits to three major sites designed by Barcelona´s favorite son, Gaudi, a supremely surrealist architect, in my opinion.

Casa Batlla (I´m spelling that wrong, I´m sure)

La Sagrada Familia (too crowded to go in!)

And Parc Guell (huge, hot, and arid)

Day 3, we visited the exceptionally cool Museum of the History of the City, an awesome, tech-savvy museum built into a 13th century catholic building with a "basemet" that was really a tour through Roman and Visigothic ruins.

Then we boarded a bus and rode 12 hours west to Granada, where we checked into our cool hotel (a restored 16th century islamic mansion) and crashed out.

Day 4 we explored Granada a bit, eating some morroccan food and smoking a hookah in the Albayzin, the islamic quarter.

Larry´s contracted some form of food poisoning, so we´re laying low today, but tomorrow we´ll be getting up bright and early to try to get into the Alhambra, Granada´s main tourist attraction, an 800 year old palace for the Moorish governors of Andalucia and the last stronghold of muslim rule in Spain.

Our meals so far have consisted pretty much of jamon y queso bocadillos (ham and cheese sandwiches) and yummy cafe con leche.

This is a complete list of all the things we´ve learned how to say in Spanish:
1) La cuenta, por favor
2) Una mesa para dos, por favor
3) Una otra cervesa, por favor
4) Hay una habitacion con air conditioning?
5) Esta una cajera de automatico?
6) Gracias!!

Espana, here I come!

2006-08-02T15:45:00.000-04:00

I'm leaving for Spain in just under 24 hours. By this time tomorrow, I'll be at JFK, trying to calm Larry's flight anxiety and, god willing, finished with Convertible and getting a good start on Pomatomus.

I'm hoping to post some photos and stories here during the trip. Here's a vague outline of our very unplanned itinerary:

1 Aug 4th - Barcelona, 3-4 nights
2 Valencia and surrounding towns, 2-3 nights
3 Cabo de Gato beaches, 1-2 nights
4 Granada, 2-3 nights
5 Malaga to Marekesh?, 2-3 nights
6 Cordoba and surrounding towns, 1-2 nights
7 Seville, 2-3 nights

Whoa, that's a lot of nights! Should be an amazing trip. Check back for updates, or, do like I do and make a bloglines account. So simple, so fast, so blog-a-licious.

Convertible nearing completion

2006-08-02T15:35:00.000-04:00

In addition to messing around with sewing and cooking this summer, I've also been working diligently on convertible, a pattern from the Spring issue of Knitty.

The lace pattern is not only gorgeous, it's super fun to knit.

I can't wait to finish it up and block it so the pattern will show more clearly.

At $60 for the fancy merino-wool yarn, this is hands-down the most expensive thing I've ever made. Colette, a generous and sweet gal from my local snb knitting group, donated some gorgeous antique buttons that I'll use to, well, you know. Make it convertible!

Some crafty things I did this summer

2006-08-02T15:12:00.000-04:00

Now that I've figured out how to use the new digital camera, I can provide a short retrospective of some of the crafty things I've done this summer.

First off, I brought the Youthcraft sewing machine home and tried my hand at ripping up and refashioning some t-shirts with the help of Tease, a book I bought at the Renegade Craft Fair. The first few attempts were laughable, but I was pretty pleased with the skirt I made, which I'm modelling below at our July 4th BBQ.

It's an old Soul Coughing shirt I'd never worn. When I got down to the business of cutting it up, I realized that the illustration was done by none other than Steve Keene, the Brooklyn artist whose shop we visit all the time in Williamsburg.

Also at the BBQ, Larry and I made the best burgers ever, some morroccan spiced mini-burgers we learned how to make after watching a particularly informative episode of Good Deal with Dave Lieberman (my favorite cooking show now that I've tired of Rachel, Paula, and fat and married Tyler)!

After practicing with the sewing machine, I managed to turn out this simple patchwork pillow out of scraps from Repro Depot's booth at the Renegade Craft Fair (again).

The pillow looks pretty rocking in front of the mural I painted over the bed in the spring.

My favorite thing I made from Tease is this craft apron, which I made from an old Rage Against the Machine tshirt and a dresshirt from Express, plus some more Repro Depot fabric.

I love putting it on to clean the house. I feel much better about succumbing to the demands of domesticity when I'm rocking the Nuns with Guns.

More craftiness to come!

Mariah, why do you tease?

2006-07-25T17:39:00.000-04:00

I spent the better part of 2005 working on Mariah, from an old issue of knitty. The pattern is gorgeous, and the sleeves were super fun.

Unfortunately, I had some issues with the zipper, as well as the neckline.

Maybe my disappointment in the finished product had something to do with the fact that I knit the entire thing out of some shitty Lion's Brand "wool-ease" that, at last check, was going for about $2.69 at Michael's. Not exactly a luxirious fiber. But hell, it was my first serious sweater.

After accepting the defeat that was Mariah, I figured I could salvage her by buying a longer zipper and picking up some cable detail around the neck and hood.

I've put her aside for the last few months to let the sadness abate, but as the weather cools down I'm sure I'll get the urge to finish her.