jay challenge

i'm running the jay challenge this saturday. wish me luck--i'm SO scared!

jack kerouac quote

"the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn......."

she said

she said, it's been a lot hot day. a sweaty day. the kind of day where things just hum along as you scrub and scour and sweep and dust and vacuum and give the cat a flea bath and answer old post and finally pay those bills and smile at your neighbors and wonder when the last time you were able to just relax on the couch, watching the sunset while you curled up, petting the cat, sipping herbal tea, and just breathing. sometimes you need that time. sometimes, sometimes, you need to just be.

marriage means gifts

my sister got engaged and i'm trying to find a nice gift for her. i've been looking for this since they got engaged two or so weeks ago. i wanted to do something rad, like get them canoing lessons or something, but she lives with her fiancee down in the south and i really don't know what would be the best. so i've been hopelessly shopping. my mom has given me the most pathetic ideas--"how about candlestick holders?" maybe she would like that, but that is SO far removed from my idea of a good gift i could never possibly get it.

so i'm looking online to try to get something they would like and it never fails to astound me the expensive shit that they sell...crystal wine bottle holder...random decorations and expensive platters. and i'm totally disgusted at the waste of money for these things--i mean, there are people who haven't eaten in days and who are dying right now with nothing and to buy some of these gifts seems totally superfluous and excessive. at the same time, they are carefully advertised, and you think, "oh i wish i had that..." it's interesting at the way advertising tries to fuck with your brains.

anyway i just thought of a sweet gift to get her, i just have to find out the perfect version of it. i want to give her a gift to celebrate the fact that she and her boyfriend are in love and are committing themselves to a lifetime of loving each other--which is a very sweet notion--because THAT is what marriage is about, not a fancy wedding and all this bullshit society tries to convince us it is about.

my sister doesn't read this blog much, but if you are reading liss, your gift is coming and will be selected with love in celebration of love.

i run fast

i never think of myself as a fast runner. the last race i did, a 4 miler, i ran over the 59th street bridge too and didn't think i ran exceptionally fast. however, i finished in the top 1.9% of women runners, and in the top 18% overall...too bad i never medal, but i still had fun.

oh my

i'm really becoming an ultrarunner; i'm starting to lose my toenails. :(

there is confetti all over my apartment.
there is glitter all over my life.

now that you're gone

you've left your toothbrush behind
and
i hope you won't mind
but i stared at it
thinking of you
i picked it up, rinsed, applied toothpaste
using it
using your toothbrush
which kissed your mouth
thinking, "this is the closest i shall get right now
to kissing you."

the #1 reason why i love roosevelt island for running

water flying through the air!

roosevelt island is one of the few places in nyc with sprinklers on their lawns, plus they have several playgrounds with those water sprinkler things that kiddies run through! this is relief on a hot day's run!

running in 90 heat and too much sunshine

i forgot to put sunblock on and now i totally have a sports bra tan. ah well. only ran 10 miles today, which feels more relaxing after running 23 yesterday.

some things i saw on my run today include:

• a woman knitting in a lounge chair alongside the east river
• a grandma tanning in a very teeny tiny bikini
  

growing up

my baby sister is engaged and getting married. she has a very different life than i do--lives in a nice suburban house with all sorts of nice normal suburban things--but still, this really clues me in that she is an adult. oh no, wait, if she's an adult and younger than me...i must be an adult.

parties wearing fairy wings and trips to the middle east--are those for adults?

they're for me!

this is what you do

this is what you do on that kind of saturday.

you get up early enough, eat a half of a bagel (carbs) with peanut butter (some protein), pull on your wicking underwear, running skirt, wicking sports bra, running socks, running sneakers, sweatband. pull your hair into buns, top with a visor, sunglasses. sunscreen on shoulders. strap on fuel belt, and out the door. run through williamsburg--move it, hipster, cherie's on a roll. over the williamsburg bridge. through the lower east side, passing signs in chinese. through trendy soho. greenwich village. up along the west side highway. pass slower runners. pass walkers. get passed by cyclists, fast runners, bladers. refill water bottles with cold water from the fountain. run faster, north. pass people doing tai chi along the river, people tanning along the river, drinking iced coffees and explaining that they don't love him anymore they can't imagine where they should go otherwise. i run faster, sucking gels out of their goo packets every forty-five minutes, ingesting salt packets and ginger chews when my body requests them. alongside riverside drive...so beautiful. turn around when i'm far north enough...running south, when i run into an old coworker from the naropa library. we run together, chatting, catching up. she leaves me at 72nd, i continue south to 59th, then cross town, across the bottom of the park (passing the stinking sad horse carriages that the tourists love to amuse themselves with), over on the east side, then up on the queensboro bridge, oh, the steep include, and up up up. eat sports beans. drink water. it's in the 80s, sunny, i'm hot. over the bridge. faster. then down, into queens. i hate the pollution. run slow, feeling tired legs, exhaustion. tell myself, "cherie, you are not walking. it is only going to get harder in vermont. in the brook. and when you are running, you tell yourself, 'you are strong.' cherie, you are strong. you are running. you are a runner. think of good things, like bathtubs and comfy beds and lovers and food and cats. think of good things. keep going." through l.i.c., and over the pulaski. don't get stuck up, drawbridge. over. and to my block, and yes, yes, yes, i am finished.

i have succeeded.

another 23 miles under my belt--it only makes me stronger.

sicko

i saw michael moore's new movie, sicko. it really blew me away--i think it's probably his best. it's about the flawed health care system in the u.s., and how the insurance companies care more about profit than your health, and when they don't cover things, they profit, and you suffer. he also makes some pretty strong cultural comparisons--he shows the health care systems in canada, uk, france, and cuba, and it's pretty dismal to see how horribly americans are treated. all people should have health care. you shouldn't have to be rich to have good health--everyone should be able to have good health.

one of the comparisons that struck me most is between a family in denver and a golfer in canada. in denver, the parents (after suffering serious health problems, including three heart attacks (for the father) and cancer (for the mother), have no money and are forced to move into their daughter's spare bedroom. they are so upset to have to sell their home to cover their bills and it's really awful. the son (who lives across town from the daughter who they'll be living with) is 27 and really reams out his parents for having to move in with their kids. it's not him they're living with, but he feels like he should make them feel awful for having health problems that force them to move in with their child in their fifties. several scene later, a canadian golfer who qualifies himself as conservative says, "everyone should have health insurance." he basically talks abt how if someone doesn't have money, we should help them--that's the way it should be.

i thought that really captured a cultural difference very neatly. how sad.

what i've been up to lately

i love summertime. it's my favourite season. even as my kneepits are sweaty on this sultry summer evening, i'm so happy. running is fun--sports bras and shorts (or running skirts!). crazy street parties. block parties. ice cream. italian ices. free concerts. last week i saw superchunk, manu chao and bob dylan--all outdoors. i went to the beach. i went to a rooftop party.

this weekend, i'll be running 22 miles, going to the kickass danger party, going to the beach. add a trip to the farmer's market to snag some strawberries before the season ends, read on the grass. maybe do some organizing of stuff in my house, some writing. should be fun.

we're so far behind

thanks to andrew for sending me this link that shows which countries have not yet adopted the metric system.

i'm so sick of hating my body

i wonder, how much time do men focus on hating their body? i'm talking, full on hating. staring in a store window as they pass, thinking, "i really have got to start working out at the gym more" or "my hair looks awful" or "i look like shit, everyone must know." really, how much time? why do women spend so much time hating themselves?

i hate these generalization articles about self-image and eating disorders and that sort of shit, and i know all women do not feel that way, and in fact, i generally consider myself pretty happy with how i look. but for some reason lately, i've either been gaining weight in my tummy or i'm bloated (it may be a combination of both) but whenever i zipper up a formally comfortable skirt to find it snug, or see my reflection in a mirror, i get self-conscious and hating.

you know what? i hate when my friends complain about their thighs. when my aunt says, "you can eat as much cake; look at you. you're nothing." i hate when my mother hates her body. i hate when my friends hate their body. i hate their complaining; i know they are beautiful and wonderful women and i don't see their flaws. no, no one sees your flaws like you see them--if they do indeed exist.

in college, most of the time i ran track, i labeled myself "the fattest fastest girl on the team." i was hardly fat--when i was on the pill, i was in the 120s. yes, 120 pounds and i was the fattest. my coach was good at making us feel insecure over everything we ate.

i got sick--really sick--my senior year of college. a horrible case of sinusitis meant running was hellishly impossible and i constantly felt nauseas. the only thing i could seem to keep down was rice check. i would have a small bowl once or twice a day, sleep a lot, drag myself around.

yet, it was astounding at how everyone kept telling me, "you look so good," "how did you lose that weight?" and worst of all--"i wish i got what you got so i wouldn't eat." they didn't seem to understand at how merely going to my two classes and part-time job was hell; a 40 minute run required a nap afterwards and i was constantly suffering. but i looked good; because skinny=good. skinny=pretty.

i'm hating a lot lately because i can't fit into some of my really rad clothes--that's really the main reason. all my weight gathers in my stomach, and previously loose/comfortable clothing is no longer. it makes me sad. i lost a lot of weight during training for my first marathon when i ran much less; now, i think, during my marathon training last autumn, i probably gained weight.

i don't want to be obsessive. i don't believe in diets. i think dieting is bullshit and unhealthy. still, i'd like to lose my pudge. i know my problem; i indulge in too many sweets.

worse than hearing those i love hating their bodies, i hate them talking about dieting. about being on a diet. "you're beautiful, you're not fat! that's unhealthy!" i think my metabolism has slowed down as i eat a lot less than i used to but still weigh more. in the past few years, i have greatly minimized the amount of processed food i eat. i buy very few packaged meals--cereal, powerbars, etc.--but i definitely do not eat any trans fats and try to minimize the amount of high fructose corn syrup i take in (which is in my beloved gatorade).

but what to do...how can i make myself happy with what i see in the mirror? how can i make myself feel okay in the presence of my friends--instead of staring at their seemingly perfect bodies and lovely flat tummies, wishing i had them? how can i learn to just love myself and stop wasting time on this bullshit of self-hate?

thinking of floating by

i hear that song...

and it makes me want to cry. it makes me feel like i am in the middle of a field, covered with a thin layer of grass, in the middle of nowhere, and it starts to rain. i am lost and i don't speak the language. i am wearing thin clothing. i crouch down as the rain throttles me. i put my hands around my head, squatting close to the ground. my clothes become drenched and transparent quickly. i begin crying, hard, harder. and the rain becomes louder and i realize there is nothing to do but cry.

only in new york: fishing edition

today i was running on roosevelt island on my ten miler, when i saw a bunch of people fishing. fine, though i don't understand why you'd want to fish in the east river as the fish probably have three eyes and high levels of toxins--if your sport is to murder animals, i don't get that. but anyway, two men were fishing, and had several fishing poles set up...but were lying on the ground by their fishing poles.

only in new york.

a quote i read years ago i still agree with

"we refuse to congratulate corporations that engage in abusive labor policies simply because they have a non discriminatory policy towards LGBT workers."

i want to give every woman and every girl the courage...

...to speak out. i wish i had years ago.

jay challenge

if you want to see the insane ultramarathon i plan on doing this july, check out the jay challenge.

oh, and for the full effect, click on this map, and click on the yellow circles for the pictures.

here's a description from the website:
The Marathon is a 31.5mile, mostly off-road, run. The race starts by climbing 4,000 feet over 9 miles to the summit of Jay Peak. Then racers head downhill for 4 miles, descending 2,000 feet on Ullr’s Dream ski trail, continue on a series of trails through the woods connecting to Wilderness Village back road, and through Jay Village. Then racers will cross fields and rivers, follow a deer trail, and run in a brook. Yes, in the brook, for about 3 miles. A bushwhack and beaver dam leads to a swim across a 50-foot river, (aided by volunteers and a cable), and then racers will reach aid station # 6. It is advisable to re-fuel and rest at aid station #6, because the worst mud hole in the world is yet to come on the last eight miles of the course!

yikes! i can't wait. i am already training, and already excited!

only in new york city

on a fifteen miler this morning, i saw two women and one man at the side of the lake in central park, meditating. that was normal. i found it slightly amusing that the women were wearing bikinis. hey, i can meditate and tan at the same time!

congrat-u-fucking-lations

i've never had anyone else make me as unhappy as you have.

deciding

i'm almost 28 and it's time to make some decisions about my life. should i stay in nyc forever? why am i not writing? when will i get my books published? how can i ever possibly save up living as i am in nyc? when will i go on a RTW? is marriage right for me? should i quit men and go back to the ladies?

there's so many decisions and i won't make them all. so i'll make these:

• yes i'll be an ultramarathoner. in fact, i may do one this july!
• i'm going to dance today. dance. that will solve all my problems!
  

top 10 things of this friday night

as i sweat gently in my apartment, still not sure what i'm wearing but i know i'm going out, i just wanted to make a list of ten fab things i'm enjoying this lovely evening:

1. fruit. i LOVE fruit, especially when it's ripe and delicious in the summertime. yum.
2. fancy delicious drinks, like the pear-lime martini i had earlier.
3. madonna's good songs, singing along.
4. good drum n bass that makes me wanna dance--that sustains me as i walk along wall street.
5. my new white fabulous shoes!
6. loads of fab vegetarian cookbooks from the library.
7. dreams of traveling, revived by a fat stack of lonely planets on my bedroom bookshelf.
8. how much i like the way i rearranged my furniture in my bedroom.
9. loud good techno bouncing out of a car's open windows when i'm on my way somewhere fun, possibly with an italian ice in my hand.
   
10. feeling free and happy and full of life in the summertime!
    

eugene marathon results

So I ran the Inaugural 2007 Eugene Marathon--and the best part is, I qualified for Boston 2008. Boston is one of the biggest marathons--some say the best, though how could anything beat NYC?--and to enter, you either have to raise like a billion dollars for charity (okay, maybe it's a little less) or run fast. I ran fast. For a woman my age, I have to run 3:40 or faster. Today I ran 3:36:09. The last two miles were the hardest--my stomach was really not happy (that last hammergel made me feel like I was going to throw up) but I kept telling myself, MIND OVER MATTER--I wouldn't let myself slow down or walk or quit, and it's so hard to not do any of those. My back was aching (damn fuel belt), my stomach was hurting (evil energy gels), blisters were growing at an alarming rate (Who ever heard of blisters on the pads of your feet???), but I persevered. I just kept digging deeper, running a hard as I could--and I knew I could do it. I'm so, SO happy. Here are my results:

Out of 1496 finishers (not sure how many were DNF), I placed 339. Out of 659 women, I placed 73--getting me a TOP FINISHERS coupon, woohoo, to a store in Eugene I won't go to! But anyway, I'm really happy.

The part I'm sad about is my beloved running partner, Crista, wasn't feeling so hot--her stomach was really hurting her and her knee was really bothering her--so we couldn't finish together. But she did finish--and at a sub-four hour pace--so I'm really proud of her. It is SO hard to run--and to finish--and at a good rate--that I am very happy with my fast friend! Go Crista! I love you! Run hard at Marine Corps--I'll be there!

The things I did that I want to repeat include:

*Carbo loading all week

*Speed workouts

*Took energy gels religiously every 45 minutes (I LOVE Strawberry Banana gu)

*Took three salts

*Drank lots of gleukos (yummy and less sickenly sweet alternative to Gatorade)

*Slept really well the previous two nights to the marathon

I'm in a lot of pain right now but really proud of myself. I'm running Boston in April, maybe I'll even do Big Sur, and Cara, I'm ready for the Jay Mountain Challenge. Thanks to all of my friends and family who support me, and I'll be looking for you at the sidelines of a future marathon!

don't ask me about my friend--it's really not your business

"When I started meeting regularly with Christina [a transgender teenager]] and therefore talking about her to non-transsexual friends, they would often ask, “So, has she had the surgery?” This is a very personal question and not my place to answer—as I don’t make it my business to talk about anyone’s genitalia without their permission. Still, it’s an understandable question. Everything in our culture pushes us to be “completely” male or female. It’s in the language: a transsexual is either “pre-op” or “post-op”—the “operative” being presumed and nonnegotiable. But contrary to mainstream imagination, there isn’t one way to be a transsexual—there isn’t a fixed trail of body modifications you undergo, leading to the genital surgery. Rather, there’s a range of physical alterations you can make, depending on your financial situation, how permanent or temporary you want the change to be, your patience with the lengthy process, your tolerance for risk, and what you want to look like in the end."

Transparent: Love, Family, and Living the T with Transgender Teenagers by Cris Beam

she said

she said, "sometimes i want to stop living this lie. sometimes i just want to start over. i want to be something else. i want to be someone else. like, you see that red lipstick? sometimes i want to smear it. smear it all over my lips, in a thick and sexy way. like something i'd never do. and i'd look at the mirror, and think, 'who is this?' and it wouldn't be me. so i'd do things that wouldn't be me. like i'd finally go home with my pizza man, smearing my red lipstick all over his face and all over his pillows. i'd flirt with bus drivers, drink cafe lattes with extra foam. maybe i'd even smoke cloves again, like i did when i dated that painter for two weeks in college. i'd wear all black, strappy heels, laugh in a sexy manner. i'd be someone else. it would all be to the red lipstick. but in the end, it would be me. the me i want to be. the me i need to become. and i'd really be me all along, and i'd buy that red lipstick by the case, and i'd never stop being the daring me i'd always wanted to become."

dream

"i can't dream for us all."

so dream. go ahead. dream. create those outrageous dreams. one day, they will come soon.

George Mallory, 1922

What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life. We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to enjoy l ife. This is what life means and what life is for.

where's cherie going next?

on the internet today, i stumbled into a website, where's cherie, and thought, hey, that's me. not really, but it's another cherie who has a deep love for travel. it made me happy.

i'm trying to decide where to go next. i can only afford (plus i don't get much vacation time) one trip a year. my eventual plan is to quit my job (this is several years down the road) and extensively travel throughout latin america and asia. so i'm not sure if i should go someplace else...

t and i talked about going to bali, but he may not have money. that may not happen, as love is like an egg sitting on the side of the bathtub. still, that's what i'd like to--no, LOVE TO do most. but my backup plan is turkey--egypt and morocco have also captured my interest heavily, as has finland, and so many other places. when i do my big trip, i'll have plenty of time to explore the places i really want to go--india, tibet, russia and nepal. so three weeks someplace that i can spend a lot of time...i need to think about it. but i'm leaning towards turkey.

i also want to take a very short (5 days or so) trip at christmastime. my family is psychotic, as are all families, but i think i would be happiest if i were away from them christmas. really, you're not supposed to cry hysterically at christmas, and if i didn't this year, that would make me very happy. i've given up on the idea that my family will give me happiness--so that will be a short (hopefully cheap) trip. i'm thinking mexico city, costa rica, belize, panama...i'd love to go to cuba, but i'm not sure about that. but, oh, i'd really love to go.

any ideas?

the art of losing isn't hard to master

things that have been last in the past few days:

• my sister's cat. eden's been missing since fri! they saw her once but she ran away.
  
• my really nice pendant (one of two really nice pieces of jewelry i own); i suspect luna swatted it somewhere around my apartment, but am also checking her poop just in case she ate it. yuck.
• my bracelet that was handmade that i bought from a native amazonian
  

hardcore

saturday morning, 6:50am. i'm out there, fuel belt, running clothes, running over the pulaski bridge--not even at .5 mile. a cyclist passes me, and says, "wow, you're a real runner." yep, it's 35F or so. i tell him, "i'm running 20 miles." "you're hardcore." i know--and i'm proud of it.

luna's birthday party

luna enjoyed hiding under the futon, watching the action; she did not like tina, gwendolyn's kitty. meow!

the samba drone

although i missed carnaval in rio (i was in salvador which was totally nuts!), i was able to witness the samba winner's parade. i got cheapish tickets to the samba drone and went with this supersweet ozzie girl, jenna. it blew my mind--the amount of money, time and energy that went into the creation of the floats and the costumes and the routines--it's just nuts. i can't even describe it properly so i'll include some photographs to speak for me.

rio de janiero

rio. rio. if i could go anyplace again in brazil, hands down, it would be rio. i fell in love with this city, so much that i could picture myself living there. it is SO beautiful--a major city, plus beaches, plus mountains! although there were dangers, things were sketchy, etc, i still loved it. i spent as much time as possible at the beach (something prized in rio, which is a terrific reason for me to want to live there)--i read don quixote as the waves crashed by, and people-watched. i ran along the water, which i very much prefer to the congested streets and sidewalks of new york city. i went to sugarloaf, christo statue, hanggliding, too much! i had so much fun and was so sad leaving. my taxi driver to the airport noticed my lump and played all sorts of brazilian axe for me. i miss brazil, esp rio.

kissing, salvador, carnaval

now let me explain the kissing.

kissing at salvador is as standard as caipirinhas--and i don't mean kissing your partner. i mean kissing strangers. this came as a bit of a shock to me--yep, this shocked a new yorker.

the men would come up to you--"posso eu beijo-o." i would reply, "no falo portugese." then they would say, "english?" "sim." "you are very beautiful. can i kiss you?" for some of them, this was the only english they knew. if you said, "no," they would ask you why. if you had a boyfriend, well, unless he was right there in sight, that's not a good enough reason. "don't you want to experience a real brazilian kiss?" they were very persuasive, and aggressive. they didn't take subtle or nice let-downs, but kept trying. "kiss meee, kiss meeee."

the gandhys (according to the guys i talked to) were started in the south of brazil to protest racism and to promote peace. now, "gandhys believe in peace and love. especially love." if you see the blue beads in the picture above, they would exchange a string of beads for a kiss--and really would try to get a kiss out of every woman that walked by! meanwhile, they were dressed with turbans, long white outfits (white skirts and these tied white tops) and sandals. they were bizarre but funny.

kissing is this weird element of carnaval. people will just grab each other and make out. i couldn't believe it--suddenly, my friend is next to me, the next minute she is making out with some random short brazilian guy. and then he's gone and she's saying to me, "let's grab another caipie. mine's almost done."

what else could i do but the obvious--get another caipirinha. i didn't need an excuse, and if my friends want to celebrate or ignore a kiss, well, drink up!

author's note: i did not kiss this man in the photo. i had some random person take it. i did not even speak to him. being a gandhy, i knew he would happily pose. he didn't even try to kiss me--very un-gandhy-like. i also succeeded by leaving carnaval without kissing a single gandhy--not something many carnaval-goers could brag about!

kissing

i wake up your in arms. i'm warm, feeling good all over. the cat is purring, sleeping, at our feet. your breath is soft and gentle, caressing my neck. a breeze, gentle, comes in through the window. i do not want you to ever wake up because i want this beautiful moment to last forever.

i shift, the cat meows, and you wake up. your eyelids flutter, big blue eyes sleepily stare into mine. we don't waste time with small talk; we never did. we always were deeper than that.

and you kiss me.

you kiss me.

it's the kiss i can feel in my toes, the kiss that makes me lose control--were we standing, you would have to hold me upright because i would not be able to support myself. i taste you, i taste myself, i explore sections of your mouth i swear i never knew existed. your fingers run up and down my back, my fingers comb through your blonde curls...

i kiss you back.

carnaval in salvador, brasil

i went to salvador for the infamous carnaval. it was all that and more. i can't describe it with words because that is all it would be: just words. i cannot even begin to explain the insanity...the intensity...the energy...the fun!






each day is a party...here would be a typical day for me...because i am crazy, wake up at 8am to go for a run (marathon training!). come back, shower, eat. maybe take a nap. walk around in the afternoon with friends, watching local bands storm the streets with their instruments...maybe do some reading or relaxing or chilling with other people in my hostel, or sit outside and watch the musicians parade by, or walk along the pelhourino or campo grande circuits, enjoying the music, jumping up and down to the music, following the trucks like the popcorn we are...in the evening, shower again (so hot!) and start getting ready...if in a camaroche or bloco, try to modify the shirt so it isn't SO ugly, put makeup on (because it's carnaval!), grab something to eat (a major task at times for the vegetarian!), get a capirinha (honestly, is there anything else to drink in brazil?! i probably had more capies than water!)...head out in a cab to the barro-ondina circuit or walk to the campo grande...join up with my friends, get some capirinhas, chat with the locals...avoid the gandhy guys trying to kiss me ("i have a boyfriend!" "where is he? can he see us?" wtf?!), toast each other...have too much fun...when it's done, you have the saddest feeling but know you just had one of the funnest weeks of your life.

wish

one of my wish bracelets from salvador came off--now my wishes will come true!

my cabbie

my cab driver last night was talking to me about dating and romance among other things. "you like your boyfriend?" he was very, very shy, and when i exited the cab, he asked, "do you have any-any friends you could set me up with?"

so i gave him your number.

photos from amazonas, brasil

i haven't written much about my trip, so let me start. i first went to manaus, which was a real dump. the only highlight was the pre-carnaval party, which was pretty fun (and at which i drank a caipirinha com fruta e crema) and danced. however, the real highlight of amazonas was going on a jungle tour. i spent three days in a remote region of the amazonas--we took a van ride, boat ride, another van ride and another boat ride--several hours of traveling. however, when we got there, it was worth it. we went swimming in the river (our lodge was on a remote river in the amazon), chatted with people, drank caipirinhas, hiked in the jungle, slept in the jungle, met local families, went piranha fishing (i didn't and i was glad no one caught anything b/c i don't like fishing!), canoed, went through aquatic forests, saw pink dolphins, saw fruits and plants and birds that exist only in amazonas--in short, had a great time. here are some of my fave photos.

knitting quote

"Jose brought up the blueprints for a new ranch house. I have this strange feeling that the blueprints and the knitting instructions got switched. I may be knitting a ranch house!"

--Holly Golightly, Breakfast at Tiffany's

dear city of new york,

please turn on your water fountains. i know we still have a bit longer until spring, but runners across the city are thirsty.

love,
cherie
and many, many other runners

interesting

there are several disgusting men who regularly sexually harass me, hit on me, stare me up and down in my neighborhood. every so often, i see them with their children--it seems to be daughters usually--and they look the other way, shy, meek, silent. i want to ask them, "do you want men to treat your little daughter like you treat me?" i find it ironic that they have daughters--that they do this--that they who are probably oh-so-protective of their little ones, wrapping their large hands around the miniature ones, feel the need to harass other women.

my favourite song from carnaval

pick which version:

quebra 1

quebra 2

quebra 3

i think my favourite time singing this was pre-fat boy slim/dj marky/layo e bushwacka bloco where this supercute gayboi, felippe and i just started singing this at the top of our lungs!

quebra ae asa!

i don't know them

two people pass me--tightly holding hands.
my heart crumples.
i ignore it, alone, and continue walking, fast.

nothing bonds new yorkers like a crisis

coming home from work today on the G train, my train suddenly stopped in the station and i heard a cluster of voices, rising. i pulled my headphones out of my ears (sometimes, you don't want to listen to your ipod) to see what was going on. the train operator was leaning out the window and i heard someone say, "someone has a bomb on the train."

"what?" i got up, and went to a middle-aged guy standing by the door in a grey sweater with an open leather jacket. "what? did he say a bomb?"

"a bong?" someone asked.

"oh, a bong."

"no, a bomb. not a bong--" gesturing like he is holding a bong--"a bomb. b-o-m-b."

"shit! should we--evacuate?"

at this point, the train conductor leaves the train and begins walking. "someone in the last car says he has a bomb. a disorderly passenger. not sure..." the conductor says, walking towards the last car that may or may not have a disorderly passenger with a bomb. people start leaving.

"shit..." a twentysomething woman with lovely brown hair and i exit the train and begin walking up the stairs. "i didn't want to die today," she tells me.

"me neither..."

"i don't feel like i'm going to die," she says.

i don't know what i feel but i know i'm scared.

"oh the police," she says, pointing at the precinct inside the station that i usually ignore. "do you think they know?"

"i don't know," i respond, "but i'll tell them." i walk towards the precinct, which, incidentally, is in the direction that the last car that may or may not contain the disorderly passenger with a bomb. it's below me, but in the same direction.

inside, two police officers are talking. "sorry to interrupt, but i think someone might have a bomb on the train," i blurt.

"oh, don't worry," another police officer tells me, smoothing her hair. "there's cops on the platform."

um, okay. so it's safe?

"what do you think?" the girl with the lovely brown hair asks me. she really is quite pretty, and her eyes are frightened, like mine probably reveal.

"they said there's cops on the platform...so maybe it's safe?"

"um..."

we walk towards the stairs and go down them. we see the train operator in the front again.

"is it okay?" we ask him.

"yeah, the cops are getting him."

people are watching the cops through the television on the platform, but i can't see what is going on. a minute or so later, the train departs.

we start chatting--about how we're so relieved, what craziness people can be--all bonded by a crisis. while i don't like scary things like threats to my life, i always like the way people become so friendly in new york

where should i move?

i recently read on curbed that not only is there a starbucks opening in greenpoint (now we're really gentrified!) but the building across from me is going to be a mega-condo with over a hundred apartments. great, just great.

i'm getting sick of greenpoint and have been hoping to move on for a while. but where should i move? i need someplace where i can go running and that limits most places in nyc. i will only live in brooklyn or manhattan, and don't want to live far. yeah, who doesn't? oh, and i have cheap rent.

my lease is up late may but i may extend for six months, and then figure out what to do. that building will be open in a year no doubt.

i wish i was in brazil for this

no, i don't.

sometimes, i like to forget about shitty things are.

but i will be at this.

missing

yes, i miss where i've already been.

but i also miss where i haven't been yet, and i really miss where i will one day be going.

my favourite chai recipe

Venessa passed along this recipe to me from Bon Appetit. However, I didn't like it as they had it, so I made some minor adjustments to suit my taste.

Enjoy!

1 1-1.5 inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled, cut into thin rounds
(the original recipe calls for a 2 inch piece; if you are a huge ginger person, add that much, but i think it becomes overpowering. i prefer a 1 inch piece or a 1.5 inch piece if my ginger is quite thin.)
2 cinnamon sticks
2 teaspoons (heaping if you like) of black peppercorns
11 whole cloves
(i may try adding even more than i do, as i like cloves)
7 cardamom pods
6 cups cold water
6 bags black tea, preferably darjeeling
2 cups organic milk
(i add 2% but whole would be excellent as well)
1/2 cup packed golden brown sugar
2-3 teaspoons of vanilla extract
(my secret ingredient for everything!)

1. Lightly crush first five ingredients with a mallet in large saucepan, or use a mortar and pestle (my way) and transfer into a large pot.
2. Add 6 cups of water; bring to boil over high heat.
   
3. Reduce heat to medium-low; partially cover pan and simmer gently 10 minutes.
4. Remove from heat. Add tea bags and steep five minutes. (If you want more of a caffeine buzz, leave the bags in a bit longer.)
5. Discard tea bags. Add milk, sugar, and vanilla.
6. Bring tea just simmering over high heat, whisking until sugar dissolves.
7. Strain tea.

This recipe makes enough for six servings. It stores well in the fridge, and you just pop a cup in the microwave (or you can warm it up on the stove as well) to have another day. I just had some leftover chai and I loved it! This time came out my best--I added less ginger, more vanilla, and it was just lovely!

when human contact makes you want to cry

today, everything just hit me so intensely.

i was waiting for the light to change when this guy stole this woman's cab. "i was here first," he told her. "i didn't see you," she responded. "well, i was here first," he said, getting into the cab. she leaned in, "can we share it?" "i was here first," he said, sliding the cab's minivan door shut.

how cruel and selfish people are.

i was carrying a package from paragon, along with a large bag of cat food (for my large cat!) when the l train came. i was listening to my ipod (standard for rush hour) and reading dh lawrence's women in love. the train doors opened, and this guy came out and my earphones were ripped out of my ears and he was moving, with my earphones. "hey!" i shouted. he looked disturbed, and then relieved. he gave me my earphonoes and a weird, sensitive moment passed through us. i got onto the train and read.

i went to the lab as i was supposed to get a test. this guy ran up to the counter and wrote his name ahead of me. the receptionist left. i couldn't take it. i left.

quiz from the guerrilla girls

snow

a morning run
white
slippery sidewalks
frozen face mask
faster
slip
snow

snow

a morning run
white
slippery sidewalks
frozen face mask
faster
slip
snow

good ways to spend your sunday afternoon

• at the colombian cafe with a colombian hot cocoa (and yummilicious double chocolate pecan cookies), studying spanish.
• enjoying art in a museum.
• post-run, post-shower, post-brunch, with lover in bed, snuggling, talking, dreaming, loving.
• taking my cat on a walk (only in the warmer weathers!)
• making a big delicious soup or stew or meal
• reading in the park
• reading at the beach
• drinking tea with grandma
• poring over a large map with a head full of dreams
• piling books in my arms from a local library--like shopping, but free, and books!
  

the rain always follows the sun

i had a brilliant time in brasil. here are the crappy things that have been following me:

• my computer completely crashed. being the numbskull that i am, i haven't backed up my data in months. i brought it the computer repair place around the block and my hard drive is completely destroyed. they can extract the data, but it will cost me. plus the repairs. i hate money headaches. that is a huge one.
• in brazil, some jerks stole my bank data and sucked $3100+ out of my bank account. hsbc rocks and i'm getting the money back, but it's going to take another week or so before i get it. in the meantime, i have little cash.
• i'm sick. i picked something up in brazil--probably from the amazon--and i've been feeling awful lately. my doctor can't figure it out so i'm going to an infectious disease specialist.
• it's really, really cold. cold like "feels like minus 15F." put a sweater on.
  
• i spent too much money on groceries. at least it's good food and i won't need to spend much in the near future. but damn, i needed to buy milk and juice.

but i have to look for the sun:

• 2 weeks i go to florida to see my grandparents and for the winter music conference!
• crista and i run the eugene marathon next month!
• i have good friends close by.
• i'm starting to study spanish again.
• my data wasn't lost. thank goddess.
  

back from brasil

yes, there will be more posts. but i've been feeling ill, and finally headed to the doctor today. his diagnosis? "i don't know what." but they took blood tests, and i'm getting more tests monday, and i'm going to take cipro, and if no clue, then i go to his associate, an infectious disease specialist. "oh, and sometimes the malarie medicine doesn't work." you don't say....!

written on the national day of hangover--the day after carnaval (salvador, brasil)

so carnaval finally ended. i never thought it would. cairpirnhas, dancing, axe, i love it!

basically, it~s like a week of constant street parties. samba bands frequently marching past my hostel, drumming groups, dancing, it~s over. i~m really into axe music now, and can sing along. i~m probably going to head out and buy a couple cds later this afternoon.

last night was the best night. it was fat boy slim with layo e bushwacka and DJ MARKY! you know who i was there for! mr marky himself! i paid 260 real for my tickets and they were up to 400 real at the end and it sold out. it was basically like zurich~s street parade with thousands of brazilians and gringos dancing in the streets. when the drum n bass came on, i of course got a little bit crazy with my dancing, but so did others. heaps of fun. i ended up going to bed at 730 this am if that~s any indication.

otherwise, the carnaval week was just nuts. the bands did circuits around the pelhourino district, and i would hear noise from my hostel from about noon until two am. it was just nuts. the carnaval was everywhere.

carnaval also brings out this thing in people where they just want to kiss you. i.e., a guy says something, i say, ño falo portugese, he replies, english, i say sim, then he says you are beautiful can i kiss you. i say no and he asks why not. when they start to get upset and ask why not i tell them it~s because they are ugly.i~m mean, haha but i~m getting sick of these annoying guys!

i had some weird swollen ankle thing. at first i though it was an allergic reaction to a bug bite but rebecca (my roommate who~s doing an internship on tropical diseases in forteleza and is in med school) read the packet of malarone and one of the possible side effects is fluid in the legs. i finished my malarone yesterday and the swelling appears to have gone down. i went to a pharmacy and they gave me some stuff too. i just love getting medical assistance in foreign countries. between rebecca~s portugese and my translation book and the minimal english of the pharmacist, we were able to get it sorted out. oh and crista, i had to skip running yesterday and have been decreasing my running during this. i knew i wouldnt run that much, and there certainly have been no twelve milers or twenty since ive been here.

i~m feeling really sad. for me traveling is a way of life. going home after such a short holiday--i dread the thought, esp the five million questions at work. i know im going to isolate myself. t and i talked abt going on the big trip i~ve always wanted to do with a heavy focus on asia. we~ll see...hopefully!

right now, i can~t get into my email for whatever reason. frustrating b;c i paid in advance and now i~m not using it all. but that~s the deal for now, so if i~m not responding to your emails, that~s why.

so another night in salvador (there are still drumming groups making the circuits), some kiwi caipies and maybe a fun things tomorrow--i leave for rio in the afternoon. i~ll be home tuesday.

i know i sound bratty with my whining~~~i~m so glad to be here and knoiw i~m lucky to travel but at the same time, i~m sad to leave. i miss you all and hope everyone is doing great. i know sad things have happened at home but i love you!!!

manaus, brazil

so after too many hours crammed into airplanes, i arrived at manaus. i hear bk in nyc it~s freezing and there~s a winter storm advisory but im pleased that it~s humid, mid 80-s or so--very comfy.

so far i havent done much--ive only been here a handful of hours. i started my time in manaus by booking a jungle tour--i~ll be in the rainforest from tomorrow morning until tuesday early evening. it sounds good and the guy said they~ve had vegetarians before so hopefully i won~t starve. i~m really excited about that.

my hostel is a bit of a dump but i~ll survive. only two nights here total.

after i signed up for my jungle tour, i went on a run of manaus. the streets are crazy--absolutely crammed with people and it was an adventure but kind of fun. i went to see teatro amazonas which was pretty, and tried to find food--unsuccessfully. brazil is not kind to vegetarians.

i must find food or i~ll surely faint.

mahatma gandhi quote

"whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it."

religion

Sometimes, I think religion is to blame for many of the evils in the world. I just saw a thing on the BBC about a terror plot foiled—apparently, these individuals planned on beheading a British Muslim soldier and posting a video of it on the Internet. Today, when I was running in Greenpoint (Greenpoint has traditionally been a very Polish, thus, white neighborhood), several cars had swastikas and anti-Semitic comments and symbols drawn in the snow on the hood of the car. I was so angry and did my best to wipe them out, and was not struck by the irony of anti-Semitic comments followed by, “Jesus loves everyone.” Yeah, everyone except you, you hateful jerk, is what I thought.

Reminds me of the bumper sticker my mom loves, "Jesus may love you but everyone else thinks you're an asshole."

sunday's half-marathon

so i ran the coldest race i have ever run before on sunday: a half-marathon in central park. i know, sounds fun? at the start, it was 20 F (feels like 7F!) and i was literally crying. it was that cold. my hands and my toes hurt so much. my feet started to thaw out after the first four or five miles, but it was such a miserable race. while running, i realized i was running way slow, and told myself it was okay. honestly, i haven't been training that hardcore lately, just starting to get back into things. and because i was crying in the beginning of the race, i told myself, "this is just a training run, not a race. a run." as long as i finished sub-two hours, i'd be happy.

if you're wondering, how bad was it, here's how bad:

• there was black ice all over the course, mostly by the water stops
• when you got to a fluid station, instead of grabbing a cup of water, you'd grab a cup of solid ice. this happened to be on several occasions.
• my fingers hurt with the cold the entire race.
• when i peed around mile 8 (i had to go!), steam rose up in the porta-potty after i peed!

so i finished in sub-two hours, to trev cheering me on, "hurry up, let's get pancakes." after, mark and mark and trevor and i got hot cocoa and then mexican food "that you don't need a wheelbarrow to take you home afterwards" and i spent the rest of the day warm--hot shower, warm apartment with candles burning, lots of tea, moving-watching under the blanket. i hate the cold. training for a spring marathon is hell, i'm slowly learning.

i keep checking the weather forecast...

as if suddenly weather.com is going to reveal to me it's spring. *sigh* i must be patient.

why i'm anti-car

i ride in trains, buses, cabs, and yes, sometimes even cars. (the overly-anal out there will try to point out that cabs are cars, but this is nyc, baby, they're magical! ha!) i understand that for some people (like my darling crista), cars are a necessity in your life. the grocery store is five miles away, there is no easily accessible public transport system where you live, you have a disability and a car allows you to get around, you work 70 miles from where you live (and you are not moving from where you live because your honey cannot move or whatever!) and you need to drive, whatever--i understand you have your reason for driving.

now here's some of my reasons for NOT driving!

• environmental destruction. cars produce heaps of pollution.
• oil. oil equals the reason we're in iraq, the reason chevron and others have destroyed huge sections of the rainforest and alaska and too many other places.
• people drive like morons. the less i drive, the less i have to be around morons.
• i don't want to drive. i can't picture myself hopping into my ugly little (or big, gas-guzzling car) car every day to drive to work, deal with snarls of traffic. i like walking, running, riding my bike, taking the train, and even the bus, much more. these are also all methods i use for getting around.
• i hate the way people can't seem to walk five minutes or ten minutes. they complain about being overweight but then won't walk to the deli 3 blocks away. they drive. this seems to be a very american thing, from what i've seen.
• i like being able to read on my commute. right now, i'm reading we don't need another wave and news of a kidnapping. i recommend both.
• i don't want to be another driver. i don't want my commute or my transport to be causing excess environmental damage. yes, i know, buses and trains are not super friendly, but it's MUCH better for me to cram on a bus with 50 other people than me to get in my car and drive behind 49 other cars with 1 person in them each.
• um, i've forgotten how to drive. i haven't driven in over 2.5 years and i honestly forget which is the gas and which is the brake. seriously.
  

for v and w, who are also carless by choice. i'm sick of defending my decision to never want to own a car. perhaps this will change someday, but i hope not.

be a smart pedestrian

i'm a pedestrian, and i never want to own a car. that said, stupid non-car-drivers really piss me off. well, it's more like i'm annoyed at their stupidity which is extremely dangerous to them. please, don't do these things unless you want to die:

1. run in the street with headphones on.
um, you can't hear the cars and you're in the street. first off, why do you need to be in the street. yes, i run in the street when crossing or if the sidewalk is closed off (but i run to the other side generally), but there's no reason to run in the potholed streets of nyc. but to do this with headphones--you're in car territory, and if you can't hear them, you may get hit. and you may die.

2. ride a bike on the sidewalk.
in nyc, the rule is: you ride in the road. if there isn't a bike lane, you get to take an entire lane. (okay, car drivers in nyc, you hear this? stop honking, i know you're there, and i ride towards the side but i'm not gonna pull over and stop. honking makes me nervous, and i could fall and get smushed and then you'll have to go to jail for involuntary humanslaughter, or whatever they call it.) so don't ride on the sidewalk when people are running, walking, etc. generally, there's not enough room!

3. ride without a helmet.
rachelle covered this in her blog a while ago, but if you get hit, and you fly off your bike, and smash your head, a helmet could save your life. if you want to die, though, by all means, ride helmetless. show off your hairdo in that case.

4. walk with your ipod blasting, completely oblivious to others around you.
(or whatever music device you use)
i admit, when that song comes on my ipod, i'll turn up the volume, start rocking it up, maybe dancing, mouthing the words, even singing. i rationalize that i'm entertaining and shocking all of the bored people in the financial district. BUT i try not to turn the volume up so much that i can't hear what's going on. (like in the bank, when they say, "next! NEXT! NEXT!" and that woman in front of you still doesn't move. you have to remember: i am out in public, and yes my music is making this tedious walk a bit more pleasant and even bearable, but you need to keep the volume low enough so you can hear things. (if you want to keep it at max, you'll prob destroy your ears and perhaps get smushed by a car.)
saturday i was running fairly fast on the sidewalk outside central park, at mile 14 or 15 of an 18 or 19 miler, feeling like i wanted to hurt someone and wanting some waffles, no more power gels or energy jelly beans, when this guy in front of me was walking down the sidewalk, hogging it. "excuse me!" i shouted. he did not turn around or move. "EXCUSE ME! PARDON!" and still he did not move. and i'm pretty loud. finally, "EXCUSE ME!" as i'm running past him--which is the point at which he decides, "i think i'll randomly move over." so i ran into him. he was a pissed off tourist and i shouted at him (could he hear me over his ipod?) and he started yelling at me in a foreign language (i was shouting so i didn't get a real sense of it--something eastern european, but not polish because i know that so easily, living in greenpoint) and i yelled back, including, "i hate tourists!" he was a tourist (you can tell, especially with this damaged-hearing person) and i was so frustrated.

and i'm not saying i'm perfect. this is my blog and my space to offer a bitchfest to the world, and i'm merely voicing my opinions. i listen to music too loud and sing too loud and i cut across the street (jaywalk) when i probably shouldn't, but i try to keep as smart as possible and generally don't allow anything stupid to become a habit.

the main thing i'm sick of

years ago, a good friend of mine suddenly broke her lease, mid-month. she had a dirt-cheap apartment in washington heights--this was several years ago but it was something ridiculously like $500 or $700 for a 1 bedroom. really nice. the reason she broke her lease? "i couldn't stand being sexually harassed every single day. i never could leave my house without hearing shouting. i stopped wearing revealing outfits, heels and skirts. it was so bad. i just couldn't take it."

i've been getting really frustrated with some of these jerks in my neighborhood. no, not the hipsters that are raising the rents. well, yeah, i'm frustrated at them too, but i'm frustrated by these certain men. elsewhere in my hood it's fine, but they seem to congregate in this ten block or so radius--the ten blocks closest to me that i pass whenever i go to my health food store, train, anywhere basically i want to go. to escape my house, i must pass these jerks.

they see me daily but still, they must stare and leer. if i wear a short skirt, or have my hair down, or wear my big hoops, or more makeup, or even, if i'm simply well-covered up, they say stuff to me. they hang out all along the main strip, but especially in front of this one loser's deli (#1 reason to never, ever shop there), harassing every woman that goes by. there is this one jerk i especially loathe that i want to throw up on. he has children yet likes to say revolting things to women as they walk past--when his kiddies are away.

basically, i'm frustrated. i understand why my friend broke her lease and lost her apartment. i'm starting to get incredibly frustrated with these men and want to just feel comfortable walking down the street. i may move but i may not but for now, i dream of a world where i am free.

one tree grew in brooklyn

this is sad, but amuses me...my block is so sparse of trees (there are several at the far end of the block, and then one in front of my house, followed by a few more), that when i give cabbies directions i'll say, "my house is three-quarters of the way up the block, the one with that tree in front of it."

where i used to live--in southern brooklyn--we had trees. prospect park was a paradise. i tried to convince a friend from colorado that there were trees. "oh, i know what you meant," he said. " there was a book. a tree grows in brooklyn. it didn't say, 'many trees grow in brooklyn.' a tree. so i guess you have seen that one tree." ha-ha, seanne.

from a story i wrote a while ago (i love this line!)

I went horseback riding last year and it occurred to me I didn’t need anything from Vin.

the savages: my version of a book review

i just finished reading joe kane's THE SAVAGES today. it's the story of the huaorani and their fight against the oil companies that are ruining great expanses of the amazon. when i finished it today, tears were in my eyes (and i was on the train, so i'm sure i looked bizarre, but that ought to tell you how powerful it was) and i am so glad i don't own a car. oil is dirty, dirty business, and the way that the oil companies have ruined the lives, health, and civilization of these people disgusts me.

what was 2006

before i go congratulating everyone on HAPPY NEW YEAR 2007, i thought i'd do a little thinking about my 2006 (prompted by an email from steve).

my 2006 was full of a lot of changes:

• lost a long-term temp job with one-day's notice when the assignment was up
• quit my job at the technical college
• started working at the amazing nonprofit i currently work at
• went to boulder for a long weekend to see many old treasured friends
  
• went to london for andrew and john's wedding
• spent a lovely summer in nyc with heaps of free concerts, free shows, and so much fun!
• went to the beach as many times as possible
• became a better knitter
• ran the nyc marathon with a personal best of 3:51
• decided to start running more marathons
• realized my family is totally crazy and i'm spending holidays away from them
• turned 27
• realized what my priorities are in life: my happiness, my health (go organic foods!), my running, my cat, my traveling, my writing

and the list goes on. most importantly, 2006 was a year of self-reflection. i broke up with my boyfriend, thought a lot about how he treated me and what i want. i realized that traveling is something that is a lifestyle to me. now, i'm in the perpetual state of confusion, but when at least that exists, you know you can just go with the flow.

and now...

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

samba into my heart

as i'm going to brazil for carnaval and fully experience the magic of it, i took a samba class last night. i learned i can pick up moves pretty quickly (which i knew already) but need to practice shaking my hips/ass (which i also knew already). but i had *heaps* of fun, tossing my body in ways i only did to crazy music on the dance floor, but throwing it in these bizarre leaps of heaps that somehow worked. TOO much fun. A coworker of mine asked, "How will you be sore from dancing?" I am sore--my body is not used to bending like that. I was sweating profusely--hair stuck to my face. It was a beautiful, living, amazing experience, complete with live drummers. I'm a convert. I plan on dancing as much as I can afford it until I go to Brazil...and then some afterwards!

you have those days....

where everyone can't stop looking at you, and you get all defensive, "what? WHAT?" and then you have those days no one notices you, and you think, "what? WHAT?"

and then you have those days where you notice no one. and honestly, those are the most peaceful of all.

when i'm a cat, i don't meow, i roar

merry christmas

after sleeping for ten hours, i feel heaps better than i did yesterday (think flu-like symptoms, nausea, chills, aching). am now drinking a cup of emergen-c in my running clothes, ready to stretch and head out for a run. i think i'll go along the italian catholic hood b/c it's likely to be a lively scene. i'm glad i'm not missing seeing my grandparents (already missed christmas last year b/c my parents have a psychotic son) as i feel well enough to attend the formalities associated with cousins you try to stomach and questions you're forced to answer as you realize, your life is your life and a question put forth to the entire dining room table will never properly sum it up.

a good run

had a really great run. made christmas gifts, then went out for a nice long run and came home to some amazing cookies v baked me. (i love you, venessa!) during my ran, while speeding past fortunato brothers (the best italian pastries in nyc!), someone was blasting "i'll be home for christmas" (i think it was the frank sinatra version) and i just started singing along.

my mom was wrong

according to a study mentioned in today's times, most americans have had premarital sex. 91% in fact. shocking! i like that the researcher talks about because of findings like this (and they go back into adults from the 1940s!), it makes it more relevant than ever for our teens to get sexual education--which, in the usa, is very hard. i know my mother--though i do love her--gave me very little sexual education, and school wasn't much better. abstinence-only education is horrible, as people ARE having sex.

what people also forget is that one of the ways so many women get stds is FROM THEIR HUSBANDS. (related.) you think, "we're in a monogamous relationship..." when he's cheating on you and not using condoms... i'm sure it also happens in the reverse way (women giving men stds) but you mostly hear about the husbands giving the wives the stds. and if you have no education, you may not understand the signs...

it's just really, really sad.

education is key. and mom, i really do love you.

what luna thinks of the holidays:

"i like hiding under the tree. that's about it. and lying on top of the wrapping paper you're trying to use. merry catmess."