Fremont trolls and assorted oddities

This morning, I woke up and trucked it down our hill with one of my roommates to the coffee shop at the bottom.  Her soy latte had the design of a skull in it, the craftsmanship of one of the many skilled baristas in these parts.  The weather was crisp, cool and clean, and sunny, and everywhere there were bright green plants and pines. I have lived here no more than 36 hours, and I've decided I love this neighborhood.  

I live in Fremont: Fremont is to Seattle, what Cambridge is the Boston. It's on the same side of the water (a canal splitting Seattle and running to the Puget Sound) as the University.  I've also heard the area referred to as "The Republic of Fremont", so I think this comparison is rather fitting.  From my house (which is a few blocks up a steep hill - the city is full of them, like San Francisco, all running down to the water) you can see the water, parts of Seattle and on clear days, Mt. Rainier.  

There are tons of little shops and restaurants - bakeries, taco places, gelato shops, clothing stores, and no less than 3 Thai restaurants (one with only cushions for seating) that I know Chels will appreciate when she visits.  All of the stores are tiny individual buildings and houses, painted bright greens, purples, blues and pinks. There's a chocolate factory at the end of the street, with tours and free chocolate.  There's a giant farmers market along the water every Sunday, with veggies and fruits, second hand stuff, crafts, jewelry, and the like.  There's a bike path (Burke-Gilman Trail) along there that runs all the way to the University (about 3 miles). There's the Freemont Troll, Gasworks Park, a giant statue of Lenin, and so on, and so on...

It's all pretty picturesque (with a touch of Tim Burton) and feels more like a vacation than a (semi-)permanent move.

Welcome to Long Island Wine Country

We took a little drive out east for wine tasting at the vineyards on the North Fork. Perhaps the PERFECT way to spend a Sunday afternoon with friends. Wonderful, unique hilarious friends that I've known since forever and miss every time I leave Long Island.

Congratulations, McLean!! A half marathon is no small feat... GREAT WORK!

Living History, Babe

My, this has been a productive Saturday.  After fending off a well earned hangover early this morning, I got myself in gear and headed down to the Brookhaven Town Fair to watch the dads in action.  Civil War reenacting is a serious (and sometimes messy - especially when it's been pouring for the past 24 hours) business, but somebody's got to do it.

The"Living History" portion included the Civil War's 57th Virginia (Dad), Revolutionary War soldiers, women, and kids, and even some WWII guys (and a couple kids in saddle shoes and navy dresses - a nice touch).  I got to try on a real Nazi helmet, which is pretty cool, if I do say so myself. I've been fascinated with the historical period of the Holocaust and Nazi Germany for as long as I can remember.  My head was too big; it didn't fit.  Little fact about helmets from this era: The US soldiers all had the same size, and adjusted them to fit their heads with a leather band on the interiors. Nazi's, on the other hand, had helmets made specifically for the size of their individual heads.  Those made toward the end of the war (like this one) were almost all teeny tiny, as they resorted to recruiting TONS of adolescents and young boys.  

P.S. I finally saw Inglorious Basterds.  Even though I was dubious (I'm not into gory films, which is what I anticipated from Quentin Tarantino), it was pretty enjoyable and oddly enough, a really beautiful film. The awesome 1930-40's costumes, the saturated colors (in everything even the blood), the orchestral music, the scenery - even taken without the plot/story line, it was like a piece of art.

September 11th

I had totally forgotten about it, until coming home from the driving range yesterday seeing the Coram Fire Department's billboard, promoting their memorial service to remember "all the heroes that have fallen".  Switching on the TV this morning, every basic cable news channel was broadcasting the memorial service being held at the site of the World Trade Center - a slow reading of all the names of those lost, by family, friends, and volunteers. 

Everybody has different memories of that day in 2001. I very vividly remember where I was: my second week of classes at NYU, standing in Washington Square Park with the rest of my Prose Comp. class, watching the first tower fall.  Amidst the panic and whatnot, I remember jogging back to my dorm room on Broadway and E. 10th St. to wake up and grab my roommates. We got back to that spot in the park (right in front of the NYU library) just in time to see the second tower crumble. I really couldn't comprehend the severity of the situation, even with the screaming and crying rippling through the crowd.  Even over the next 48 hours, completely unable to get in touch with anyone (phone, internet, nothing), watching that night from our dorm window as the line of military trucks and vehicles crawled down Broadway, wandering around the evacuated, empty Village with our mouths and noses covered by handkerchiefs because of all the dust in the air, watching a fireman covered in dust and sweat collapsed in the corner of Penn Station, hat in his lap, head in his hands, crying - even these memories seem surreal.  It was a very, very interesting time to be living in New York City, especially as an 18 year old freshman.

Vermonster

After further investigation (4 days worth, to be exact), I’ve come to the conclusion that Brattleboro just might be the town that urban evolution forgot.  Seemingly stuck sometime in the late ‘60’s, secessionists are just as prevalent as cell phones and organic farming is not so much "cool" as it is a necessary means of existence.  It’s actually kind of a breath of fresh air; in most places “going green” is the new “save Tibet”, and just how genuine can general population trends (this one concerning the environment) be?  Moving right along, it was an eventful and totally enjoyable Labor Day weekend. Here’s why…

The weather was spectacular, we hiked Monadnock and  Wantastiquet, hung out with the cool and colorful characters about town, and ate some yummy grub.  Between partaking in a potluck dinner at the farm where Chels resides, perusing the town’s humongous farmers market and multiple co-ops, this was pretty far from traditional Long Island cuisine (uhh, Italian, pizza and bagels? All delicious, though not so much organic or particularly healthy). Just about everything edible was local (Chels’ farm fam. actually sells their veggies and flowers at the co-op), delicious, and ridiculously affordable. 

Example offering perspective:

1 medium coffee at Petsi’s Pies, Cambridge, MA - $1.65

1 medium coffee in Brattleboro, VT - <$1.00. No joke (and that ratio is pretty much across the board).

Also responsible for adding to weekend awesomeness was our impromptu jaunt north to Burlington (JE ME souviens!!! What a great city – I highly recommend it). And finally, like every true ice cream lover, we made the holy pilgrimage to Waterbury, VT, “home” of Ben and Jerry’s. Actually, that’s a common misconception. As we very shockingly found out about three minutes into our tour of le factory, both Ben and Jerry hail from Merrick, Long Island. That’s right, rejoice, in my mind they can join the infamous ranks of Mariah Carey, Jerry Seinfeld, Rosie O’Donnell and LEST WE FORGET, Lindsay Lohan.

Anyway, weekend rating: A+

Oh, and in other equally exciting news, I am now a Mac owner. Since moving home, I’ve thrown procrastination to the wind (along with a good portion of my savings) and purchased the computer I’ve been professing to need for about 6 months now. So long, my sister’s six year old Sony. I’m not quite sure you’ll be missed, but it’s been a good run nonetheless.

Gew. Merh.

Curses! My second day home only to be struck down by some sort of stomach virus, leaving me incapacitated and stranded in the house, feeling like I've been pummeled in the stomach.
Whenever I get sick, no matter where I am, I always wish I was home, lying on the couch taking in 90210 reruns and fending off my mother’s incessant doting. Yet, here I am, watching an emaciated Tori Spelling juggle two potential suitors, and it’s just not cutting it this time. Home simply isn’t the same when you’re 26 and none of your siblings reside within a hundred mile radius. Or, your good friends, for that matter.

Speaking of impossibly awesome individuals in Boston, while Sunday’s voyage to Long Island was pretty uneventful, actually renting the vehicle turned into more of a hassle than I had anticipated. I really don’t know what I would have done without help, and now I find myself wondering, what am I going to do without said assistance in the future? Just thinking about that, I get all teary eyed and stupidly nostalgic. And, just plain old sad...

Right. So, since I have two.five more weeks of this (hopefully sans stomach pains) I’m going to need to do something constructive, aside from the normal jogs, jaunts to the beach, and packing. Last night my mother and I went to the driving range, and I realized just what a fabulous golfer she is. I rather enjoyed watching her put the majority of other individuals at the place to shame, while she tried to advise me: “No, no. Bend your knees like you’re sitting on the edge of a barstool. C’mon, I know you know how to do that” (Right). I’ve concluded that it might behoove me to learn a bit of golf, especially while I have a seasoned instructor at my disposal and amazing golf courses within a 15 minute drive. I even worked at one, back in the day, driving around the beer cart and serving argyle clad old men at the club's bar. Plus, I loved aristocratic lawn sports such as croquet and bocce in college. True, there was always a styrofoam cooler of beer involved, but how different could this possibly be? Since I’ve now mastered driving the ball 50 yards with a 7 (yes, that’s right, don’t be jealous) we might play 9 holes this weekend. Game on!