did I forget to mention...

I went to the NY Times building a couple of months ago? No, I don't mean I stood outside, or even that I just stood in the really cool lobby... I went upstairs. Okay, okay, say what you want about the fading glow of newspaper journalism, but going inside the beehive of the NY Times was pretty cool. I was one of the people from my office there to meet with one of the multimedia guys about multimedia stuff (I won't bore you...). Anyway, if you've ever been in a newsroom, you'd note this too: It was ridiculously quiet in the newsroom. So quiet, I'm pretty sure Bill Keller heard our guy when he whispered "Yeah, that's Keller. Whatever you do, don't mention The Daily Show..." The cubicles were only waist-high — which is bad if you'd like to be out of your neighbors' site lines for even a second. And apparently you have to go 20 blocks to find "anywhere decent" to eat. (Also, there were several full-grown trees in their courtyard. A feat in New York, New York.).

Actual academic thing learned (from the horses' mouth): If you want to see some great online media (minus the frickin' awesome typeface in its print version), go to The Guardian — where ny times online media guys find inspiration.

travel imminent...

by mfc

crossing my fingers that our turkey day travel plans aren't going to mimic this movie (classic, though it may be). although, now that I think about it, we will probably take the T, get on the plane, and be picked up in a car. well then, i guess it's inevitable! all we need is steve martin, and there'll be no stopping us.

anyway, i know it's a long way off, but we've already booked that flight, and are definitely heading to portugal in january, but except for a hostel booking, that's it. we did listen to a bit of portuguese last night, and i have to say, it's easy to hear how daunting the language can seem.

rockport, ma. sept 13

halibut point, cape ann, ma. photo by d.

if you're coming from ohio, and worried about leaving your brethren back home, don't worry — rockport is chock full of ohioans (including a few of us, by birth... oddly enough). we saw the license plates first, followed by the natty dress rocked by ohio retirees (trust me, i can say this, because i know).

so, the nat-ster, m., and our friend, d., took a road trip up to halibut point state park, with a stop at a little cove along 127. the quarry at halibut looked really, really, familiar, but that could have just been a coincidence. then, we headed to rockport, to check out motif #1, eat lunch, and enjoy the lovely, non-walmarty commerce of bearksin neck. and eat ice cream.

rockport is a mere hop, skip, and a jump from boston, up route 1, and it's on the commuter rail line, so if we want to go back (which we do) and take our bikes (which we do), we can — without worrying about parking.

reflections

dumplings. dumplings. by m.
this was a weekend to point to and say, 'ha! there is such a thing as true, continuous happiness. so there.' in the midst of work, and getting ready for m's photography show (which is amazing!), i think we were walking around in a stupor. but, the opening on friday was fabulous — friends coming from out of town, enjoying each other's company — and the weekend just flowed from there, with nat and our friend from nashville heading to rockport, missing the ridiculous rain somehow, sailing on sunday, and another jaunt to chinatown with henry and sofy. love.

sun sun market, by m.

ode to the t

by m.
it's been more than a year now since we moved from the mecca of motorists, (otherwise known as the midwest), to boston... and i still love the T. i heard from all the other bostonites that after 6 mos. i'd be done with the crowded, rank-aired, delayed, 'another-train-is-behind-us' hoopla, but i'm not. and it tisn't just because of gas prices, or the stress of the commute, or that i get home in the same amount of time regardless of the weather (hello snowstorm of december '07! 20 minutes! in my pj's while everyone else is still in their cars for another four hours!)... it's actually because riding in the car hurts my ass. i must have had a callous or something from my early years driving every. where. but, heading to rockport this past weekend gave me butt burn, and a crick in my back.

so anyway, thanks, T, for saving me bodily pain. even if you are annoying sometimes.

Orleans, Massachusetts, Cape Cod

Photo by J. A.

There are only a few types of vacationers. One type prefers to stick their umbrella in the sand, lay down their towel, slather on the sunscreen and work on their tan for five to seven days, approximately. Type B can only be defined as the 'crammers' — You make a list of everything you want to do in a place and god willin' and the crick don't rise you're gonna do them. I, of course, grew up with the type b's of this world and found it hard to identify with the former, until I began traveling without my family... and discovered the oftentimes neglected type c — you make a list, grab the sunscreen, and go with the flow. sometimes you see the pantheon, sometimes you go to the coliseum, but darling, you can't see it all and still call it a vacation.

Two of our friends came to visit last week and proved that actually it doesn't matter what type you are, as long as you have a great time with your selected type. After picking them up in Providence, R.I., we drove on a whim to Orleans, Mass. and it wasn't beach weather, but it was beautiful... after that, we no longer had them captive so they ran amuck, covering as much as possible. They're exhausted now, but they had a grrreat time.

Sunday Sailing

Sunset in our neighborhood, by Nat.

After a whirlwind of Boston fun with some friends in town (including the awesome Museum of Science, a short trip to Harvard, and Cape Cod), we ventured to NYC (more on that later!). So this weekend, we took Nat and her boy out on a Piers Park Sonar for a spin around Long Island, since it was Marie's personal goal to go under the bridge out there.

What a ridiculously beautiful day, although I have to say I'm slightly tired (but it's a good tired!).

long weekend

a shot from montreal, unrelated to this post of course

here in beantown, we celebrate a little known holiday called patriots day, which equals a day off for some and not for others (as the woman in the dunkin' donuts said, while trying to find out if any banks were open to provide her with ones and fives: "this is one of those half-ass holidays").

unintentionally in celebration of a random holiday, m and i met a friend i hadn't seen in a year in a half on friday. then, we spur-of-the-moment style, boarded a bus the next day to nyc to see a friend's thesis show. the conversation was philosophical, discussing political protests and constantly fighting for the truth through protest/art... my question was, how do you know what the truth is/where to find it? how do you make that decision? gut reaction?

then we took the 3 a.m. train home.

in other news: we won our soccer game sunday, yeah! and spent a day at the beach with the pup monday, yeah! and I got a sunburn, boo...

jump

flexibility. the tool of youthfulness... sitting on trains for hours this week made me realize that without flexibility stiff joints, and pain made me feel older than I am. And perhaps being flexible wasn't just about physical age. I think it's something that I struggle with mentally/emotionally is adjusting fluidly to change. Not falling into a stagnant (un)growing time. But, being flexible doesn't mean being unfeeling, or glossing over emotions haphazardly. It's a form of adaptation -- opening your arms, stretching your toes, feeling the tendons, muscles, nerves react. It's not painless, but it seemed to me it was more painful coming out of stasis than continually stretching.

montreal

so last week, we threw our cares behind us and headed to the land of ice and snow, maple syrup and art galleries, otherwise known as old montreal. or, heaven in the bleak of north america.

of course, a bus to new york, then a 10 hour train ride to montreal would seem ludicrous to some (considering it's roughly a six hour car trip from boston to montreal), but why take the easy way, when amtrak's involved? in the words of my lovely travel companion, "this was a one-time only thing. if we were in europe, we would have been through three countries by now." but, I do have to say, the progressively more snow covered landscape was lovely on the train portion... and every train ride seems to have depth and meaning, more so than a car, which is why we wanted to go by train in the first place. it's also like taking the subway here in boston — the close proximity of so many people, not really interacting, but reacting to the space you're given. I found myself organizing my little seat area — blanket, crumbs, waterbottle, books, journal—almost unconsciously.

and it was nice to be deposited right near old montreal, and our cute little hotel.

you can see from this photo the light, white hot in the cold air, montrealeans strolling without hats or gloves in the presence of such brightness. we wandered down st. paul's street, ate little dinners of pasta, a little lunch of polish pierogies. one night we took the metro to see the more modern downtown area and caught a movie — in french of course. mostly I guessed at the plot, but it was interesting to focus on the cinematography and watch the expression in the actors faces/gestures...

see through

::Surrounded by Water at BUAG ::

down down down to the tips of my toes you'll find... paint! frickin' everywhere. it has slithered like some slithy tove under my fingernails, on my elbows and atop me head. marie believes my hair looks quite nice the color of "spa." I can't wait until we turn on venture violet, or jardin. someday, i'll be a paint namer... much the same training as crayola crayon color namer. anyway, we're attacking the spackled past recognition walls (?) and ceilings in our new apartment. we decided this was the best thing to do after a long luscious weekend in providence with friends.

it's decidedly domestic, considering the rest of the time was spent viewing burlesque, persepolis, a play on sally mann, and a sex workers art show. love it.

strrrretch

contrary to the pre-new york jitters, all went well. however, we're having a serious need for sleepytime back here in boston. i was pleasantly surprised to get the chance to see the broadway play, august:osage county, on sunday. talk about getting sucked into the dramatic family dysfunction! even with the need for two intermissions, i was enthralled from the first monologue to the last whimpers. the set. the set was amazing — built like a giant dollhouse, minus the mute refrain from any nora-like character.

stay warm! and stay healthy. it's been frightful lately.

dog walking dog

woke up early and had time to walk lucca in the rain. every five steps he'd shake from head to the tip of his tail. what a prancer.

heading back to new york tomorrow morning (early! early!) to meet up with marie and company. crossing my fingers this trip will end up being better/less weird/less pretentious than last time. but, as i told my friend andy, sometimes you have to put up with hipster vomit (figurative. not literal. i hope.).