Posts
Here are some pictures, thanks to Anne Frederick.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
As You Like It, hot and buggy
My, my how the weeks have been flying along. I enjoyed a most wonderful run of As You Like It with an extremely wonderful and playful cast and have multiple bug bites to show for all of the time we spent in the blazing heat (despite warnings about heat stroke) singing the song of the Bard. We performed over the 4 hottest days of this summer in beautiful locations with encouraging audiences who did their best to stay engaged despite the sweat pouring down everyone's faces. It was great.
Here are some pictures, thanks to Anne Frederick.
Here are some pictures, thanks to Anne Frederick.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
In the Kitchen with KayPear
Good morning blogosphere! It's 11:30am here. That's right...I SLEPT IN! Mwahahaa. It was one of those mornings where my body just did not want to get up. I'm usually waking up about 30 second before my alarm goes off, but today. oh man. I think it has something to do with the massive sinus pressure building in my head. Oof. AnywaysI've been kind of stumped about what to write about. I keep starting posts and then just abandoning them because I'm not really inspired. And it's not like there isn't a whole bunch of things going on. We just moved into a new house.
This is the view from our roof deck as I ate dinner.
This is the view when I had my tea before bed.
Jealous?
And since moving is such a change it only goes to say that I've really been attempting to change my eating habits for the better. Graduating college and transferring to a schedule that isn't so demanding or dictating is extremely difficult. I didn't expect to have so much free time so it's been a rough year. I've actually begun to have sessions with a hypnotherapist. That's right. But he's not a hypnotist. I'm not barking like a dog or squawking every time someone says the word "chicken". As a psych major I have enough knowledge to recognize that for many people hypnotherapy is an effective method train the brain away from debilitating habits such as smoking, overeating, and negative thinking. But I also know it doesn't work for everyone. So I'm giving it a try. There's still a large component of regular therapy, talking about the week, what were the positives and negatives, how I handled difficult situations. All of that traditional talk. And then there is the hypnotic induction. It's like taking a power nap. You just close your eyes and listen for a half hour or so. In most ways it is very much so like meditation. In fact, I might as well just call it guided meditation. There's lots of setting goals for myself and teaching my brain to recognize ways in which to be successful in achieving these goals. Everything from social to economic to leisure goals. And I've really had to steer myself away from skepticism with this, oftentimes largely a side effect of resistance to change. But change is good. It's an environment for learning.
I didn't think I'd end up going on that tangent, but that's okay. Might as well blog about my experiences.
Anyway, I had intended to center this post around a new segment of sorts on this extraordinaire blog of mine. I spend a decent portion of my time online reading various food blogs. Some are about healthy eating, organic gardening and the just plain decadent. I enjoy cooking myself, but lack the means and drive of some of the extravagantly talented bloggers I read. But whatever, I can write about stuff I cook as well.
So here, submitted for your approval, is my first post of In the Kitchen with KayPear
As you know, I slept in this morning. As you also know, we have been gradually moving into our brand spanking new South Philly home. As you may guess, there's not much going on in our fridge right now. Lots of odds and ends. Lots of mystery items. So this morning I stuck with eggs.
Oh eggs, I do love thee.
My breakfast: GIANT mug of french press Colombian coffee, tissues (for the sinuses), and...
Florentine Scramble
1 egg
1 egg white
1/3 cup chopped frozen spinach (or fresh, whatever)
2 strips turkey bacon (or normal piggy, whatever)
1/4 cup crumbled goat cheese
crushed red pepper flakes
- If your spinach is frozen like mine was (a delightful discovery in the freezer I may add, for I do love spinach and it surely must love me) pop it in the microwave for about a minute.
- Meanwhile, chop up your bacon (turkey or other species) into strips or cubes or what have you and give it a quick sizzle in your trusty cast iron skillet, or whichever stove-top apparatus you tend to favor.
- As the bacon cooks down in the same bowl you defrosted your spinach in add one egg and one egg white (or two eggs or two egg whites just EGGS of any manner).
- Give this a hearty stirring. It will seem super thick and like there is too much spinach to egg ratio. That's how I like it. If you don't like it don't make my eggs.
- When the bacon is done get the excess oil off with paper towels. You know the drill. Add the bacon to the spinach and egg mixture and stir again.
- Over low-ish heat pour your eggs into the skillet and let them be for about a minute. (I happen to like my eggs on the firmer side so if you like the ooey-gooey sort of thing then cut down the cooking time.) Really, it's just eggs so they'll be delicious no matter what.
- Then add in your goat cheese. Just crumble in an even layer over the top. It can be any cheese really. But goat cheese and spinach is oh-so-wunderbar.
- With your favorite spatula in the dishwasher (did I mention we have a dishwasher?) you'll have to resort to some other second-tier spatula. Sigh. Remind yourself that a spatula will not make the food taste any different and begin to fold in the cheese to the eggs.
- Add in some shakes of your red pepper. More if you like spicy. Less if you're lame.
- Turn off your heat and keep folding every 15 seconds or so. You're scrambling eggs. You've done this before. I don't think I need to tell you how to do it.
- Transfer to your plate. EAT IT.
This is what it looks like as you are about to take your first bite.
This is the view from our roof deck as I ate dinner.
This is the view when I had my tea before bed.
And since moving is such a change it only goes to say that I've really been attempting to change my eating habits for the better. Graduating college and transferring to a schedule that isn't so demanding or dictating is extremely difficult. I didn't expect to have so much free time so it's been a rough year. I've actually begun to have sessions with a hypnotherapist. That's right. But he's not a hypnotist. I'm not barking like a dog or squawking every time someone says the word "chicken". As a psych major I have enough knowledge to recognize that for many people hypnotherapy is an effective method train the brain away from debilitating habits such as smoking, overeating, and negative thinking. But I also know it doesn't work for everyone. So I'm giving it a try. There's still a large component of regular therapy, talking about the week, what were the positives and negatives, how I handled difficult situations. All of that traditional talk. And then there is the hypnotic induction. It's like taking a power nap. You just close your eyes and listen for a half hour or so. In most ways it is very much so like meditation. In fact, I might as well just call it guided meditation. There's lots of setting goals for myself and teaching my brain to recognize ways in which to be successful in achieving these goals. Everything from social to economic to leisure goals. And I've really had to steer myself away from skepticism with this, oftentimes largely a side effect of resistance to change. But change is good. It's an environment for learning.
I didn't think I'd end up going on that tangent, but that's okay. Might as well blog about my experiences.
Anyway, I had intended to center this post around a new segment of sorts on this extraordinaire blog of mine. I spend a decent portion of my time online reading various food blogs. Some are about healthy eating, organic gardening and the just plain decadent. I enjoy cooking myself, but lack the means and drive of some of the extravagantly talented bloggers I read. But whatever, I can write about stuff I cook as well.
So here, submitted for your approval, is my first post of In the Kitchen with KayPear
As you know, I slept in this morning. As you also know, we have been gradually moving into our brand spanking new South Philly home. As you may guess, there's not much going on in our fridge right now. Lots of odds and ends. Lots of mystery items. So this morning I stuck with eggs.
Oh eggs, I do love thee.
Florentine Scramble
1 egg
1 egg white
1/3 cup chopped frozen spinach (or fresh, whatever)
2 strips turkey bacon (or normal piggy, whatever)
1/4 cup crumbled goat cheese
crushed red pepper flakes
- If your spinach is frozen like mine was (a delightful discovery in the freezer I may add, for I do love spinach and it surely must love me) pop it in the microwave for about a minute.
- Meanwhile, chop up your bacon (turkey or other species) into strips or cubes or what have you and give it a quick sizzle in your trusty cast iron skillet, or whichever stove-top apparatus you tend to favor.
- As the bacon cooks down in the same bowl you defrosted your spinach in add one egg and one egg white (or two eggs or two egg whites just EGGS of any manner).
- Give this a hearty stirring. It will seem super thick and like there is too much spinach to egg ratio. That's how I like it. If you don't like it don't make my eggs.
- When the bacon is done get the excess oil off with paper towels. You know the drill. Add the bacon to the spinach and egg mixture and stir again.
- Over low-ish heat pour your eggs into the skillet and let them be for about a minute. (I happen to like my eggs on the firmer side so if you like the ooey-gooey sort of thing then cut down the cooking time.) Really, it's just eggs so they'll be delicious no matter what.
- Then add in your goat cheese. Just crumble in an even layer over the top. It can be any cheese really. But goat cheese and spinach is oh-so-wunderbar.
- With your favorite spatula in the dishwasher (did I mention we have a dishwasher?) you'll have to resort to some other second-tier spatula. Sigh. Remind yourself that a spatula will not make the food taste any different and begin to fold in the cheese to the eggs.
- Add in some shakes of your red pepper. More if you like spicy. Less if you're lame.
- Turn off your heat and keep folding every 15 seconds or so. You're scrambling eggs. You've done this before. I don't think I need to tell you how to do it.
- Transfer to your plate. EAT IT.
mmmmmmmm.....
Until next time lovely people!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
endeavor ho!
My dear friend (and new Philadelphia resident!) are starting something big. Well kind of big. Yes, I'll say big. We're developing a theatre artist support group of sorts which will hopefully in the next couple of months attract Philadelphia area actors, directors, designers and even just theatre enthusiasts. It will hopefully be a group of people who can get together and share experiences, workshop audition materials, read new plays, share unique techniques and network with other artists. It'll be great! We've begun to construct a website and we've got a twitter (@ActorsANON) and a gmail all set up so stay tuned for updates! SO OFFICIAL. SO AWESOME!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
OH MAH GAWD IT IS SOOO HAWT OUTSIDE
we all feel how uncomfortable it is, we all have sweat dripping in places we would rather not have sweat in, and everyone has that gross sticky film all over their bodies YET we feel the need to announce it to the world. I'M HOT. IT'S HOT. OH MAH GAWD I'M GONNA MELT. SOMEONE TURN OF THE SUN. But seriously. We get it.
It's days like these when I bow down to my air conditioner, and strategically plan my day around shops that blast cool air at you to entice you inside (Walk down Walnut for some cooling breezes). And right now, I'm sitting in the lovely air conditioned green room of the Philadelphia Shakespeare Theatre. And it's just delightful. But I know the minute I step outside again I'm gonna get punched in the face by humidity and my body will react by seeping water out of ever pore and making my whole body itch. It's gonna be grand. GRAND I TELL YOU.
Here are some delicious things to eat when you're too hot to move and your brain is frying up like the egg you ate for breakfast:
frozen mango
watermelon
frozen strawberries
frozen peaches
cucumbers
FROZEN ANYTHING
eat smaller meals, your body won't produce nearly as much metabolic heat
eat something spicy! seriously, the heat in your mouth with enhance circulation and will make you sweat and look disgusting, but you'll cool down.
drink WATER. put down the Corona and opt for some good old H20. Alcohol dehydrates the body. But you knew that already right?
avoid the java. Caffeine also stimulates the metabolism which causes your body to heat up.
Put your clothes in the fridge. It'll work. Throw your shirts or what have you in a ziploc ad pop them in the fridge overnight. Yeah, you'll squeal from the chill when you throw it on, but you'll be happy you did when your core is as cool as a cucumber (see, told you they were cool!).
think of things like this:
And remember, it's gonna thunderstorm like crazy soon so SUCK IT UP AND SWEAT IT OUT.
It's days like these when I bow down to my air conditioner, and strategically plan my day around shops that blast cool air at you to entice you inside (Walk down Walnut for some cooling breezes). And right now, I'm sitting in the lovely air conditioned green room of the Philadelphia Shakespeare Theatre. And it's just delightful. But I know the minute I step outside again I'm gonna get punched in the face by humidity and my body will react by seeping water out of ever pore and making my whole body itch. It's gonna be grand. GRAND I TELL YOU.
Here are some delicious things to eat when you're too hot to move and your brain is frying up like the egg you ate for breakfast:
frozen mango
watermelon
frozen strawberries
frozen peaches
cucumbers
FROZEN ANYTHING
eat smaller meals, your body won't produce nearly as much metabolic heat
eat something spicy! seriously, the heat in your mouth with enhance circulation and will make you sweat and look disgusting, but you'll cool down.
drink WATER. put down the Corona and opt for some good old H20. Alcohol dehydrates the body. But you knew that already right?
avoid the java. Caffeine also stimulates the metabolism which causes your body to heat up.
Put your clothes in the fridge. It'll work. Throw your shirts or what have you in a ziploc ad pop them in the fridge overnight. Yeah, you'll squeal from the chill when you throw it on, but you'll be happy you did when your core is as cool as a cucumber (see, told you they were cool!).
think of things like this:
And remember, it's gonna thunderstorm like crazy soon so SUCK IT UP AND SWEAT IT OUT.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
With fronds like these...
Staying in touch is hard. And I'm counting tweets and status updates. It's still rough. You really have to work to keep a friendship current and lively.
When you first get to college you'll keep in random touch with select friends from your hometown. Talking about parties or classes or how awesome (!) that football game was last week. Gradually, though as the semester ticks on you lose touch. With each class and encounter you scramble to hastily make friends with anyone, desperate to gain entry into some imagined crowd of incessant glory. New friends come into the picture and the farthest away they'll ever be is across campus on the top floor. And then winter break comes and you go home and you probably be able to schedule a get together or two with your dearest friends from grade school. But the people you'll probably see the most at home are the folks you thought you said goodbye a long time ago to. And that's how it will be every time you go home. Forever. And that group of people you have to engage in awkward contact with will grow. Forever. And you'll have to create a great profile of job, hottie significant other, and baller attitude or people will think you've failed. Forever. Growing up is fun!
Spring semester comes and you continue to meet new people at college. Of the friends you made in the first few weeks after move-in you'll have weeded out the ones that don't quite fit you. And in four years you grow "into yourself" (and who really knows when we're ever done with that), you evolve and the people you keep company with evolve with you. You'll make your great friends whom you trust with you life and plan to have in your wedding party on day. You'll have those friends that happen to be enrolled in the same classes as you and pursue the same major. You'll have club friends, drinking friends, friends that climb on rocks, study friends, muddy friends, even friends with chicken pox. (I'm so very sorry for that. It's hot. My brain is mushy.) And these friends will define you and you'll find yourself wondering how you ever flourished without them.
Okay now I need to stop. I MISS MY FRIENDS! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
Back to keeping in touch. You'd think in an era of instant connectivity with e-mail, skype, twitter, and facebook we'd be better at it. But life happens and sending out a mass announcement of success or woe isn't exactly a comfortable thing. Of course, you could call those near and dear to your heart but we never do. And banking on a coincidental visit to the hometown if hopeful but quite a difficult affair. So these dear friends become more like the family members you see on holiday gatherings. I guess that's okay. These people are still very much a part of you, but they've grown as well and have made their own friends that better suit who they are and who they hope to be. And that's okay. It's lovely. It just makes keeping up to date with one another more difficult.
So what do you do? Many of my groups of friends have tried creating an e-mail thread and updating one another every one in awhile. It gets the job done, sure, but it usually dies out pretty darn quickly. We have to make time for one another. Maybe plan a weekend getaway for friends. Aim to settle on a hometown return in advance. When you first see one another again, and it's like old times once more, you'll be so thankful for some planning and for the journey you have been on that you will share with your oldest buddies.
I'm all talk right here, but I have every intention of shooting my lovely friends an e-mail...soon.
Now that I've made myself wistful for people I love and haven't seen in quite awhile I'm going to look at pictures of animal friends. Because I can.
.
When you first get to college you'll keep in random touch with select friends from your hometown. Talking about parties or classes or how awesome (!) that football game was last week. Gradually, though as the semester ticks on you lose touch. With each class and encounter you scramble to hastily make friends with anyone, desperate to gain entry into some imagined crowd of incessant glory. New friends come into the picture and the farthest away they'll ever be is across campus on the top floor. And then winter break comes and you go home and you probably be able to schedule a get together or two with your dearest friends from grade school. But the people you'll probably see the most at home are the folks you thought you said goodbye a long time ago to. And that's how it will be every time you go home. Forever. And that group of people you have to engage in awkward contact with will grow. Forever. And you'll have to create a great profile of job, hottie significant other, and baller attitude or people will think you've failed. Forever. Growing up is fun!
Spring semester comes and you continue to meet new people at college. Of the friends you made in the first few weeks after move-in you'll have weeded out the ones that don't quite fit you. And in four years you grow "into yourself" (and who really knows when we're ever done with that), you evolve and the people you keep company with evolve with you. You'll make your great friends whom you trust with you life and plan to have in your wedding party on day. You'll have those friends that happen to be enrolled in the same classes as you and pursue the same major. You'll have club friends, drinking friends, friends that climb on rocks, study friends, muddy friends, even friends with chicken pox. (I'm so very sorry for that. It's hot. My brain is mushy.) And these friends will define you and you'll find yourself wondering how you ever flourished without them.
Okay now I need to stop. I MISS MY FRIENDS! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
Back to keeping in touch. You'd think in an era of instant connectivity with e-mail, skype, twitter, and facebook we'd be better at it. But life happens and sending out a mass announcement of success or woe isn't exactly a comfortable thing. Of course, you could call those near and dear to your heart but we never do. And banking on a coincidental visit to the hometown if hopeful but quite a difficult affair. So these dear friends become more like the family members you see on holiday gatherings. I guess that's okay. These people are still very much a part of you, but they've grown as well and have made their own friends that better suit who they are and who they hope to be. And that's okay. It's lovely. It just makes keeping up to date with one another more difficult.
So what do you do? Many of my groups of friends have tried creating an e-mail thread and updating one another every one in awhile. It gets the job done, sure, but it usually dies out pretty darn quickly. We have to make time for one another. Maybe plan a weekend getaway for friends. Aim to settle on a hometown return in advance. When you first see one another again, and it's like old times once more, you'll be so thankful for some planning and for the journey you have been on that you will share with your oldest buddies.
I'm all talk right here, but I have every intention of shooting my lovely friends an e-mail...soon.
Now that I've made myself wistful for people I love and haven't seen in quite awhile I'm going to look at pictures of animal friends. Because I can.
.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Well if you're reading this I guess you got left behind in the rapture. No ascension for you! I will admit I did get a bit worried when the clouds rushed in and the sky went grey as I was waiting for a bus at about 5:59 on Saturday evening. But then the 27 finally made its way up Broad and I was on my way to Manyunk for my friend's band's cd release party. And I danced my face off. And it was good.
I'm sure you've seen these rapture bomb photos and I'm sure you've seen these amazing animal photos, but imma gonna post them anyways. So deal.
Say whaaaaaa? Baby penguin AND a baby dolphin?!?!?!?! Can't. Handle. Cuteness. Overload.
This cat looks a bit snarky to me.
now you want a baby pygmy hippo. but you can't have one. and i'm sorry for that.
this week brings a whole bunch of things to a close. I'll hopefully be hearing back from a marathon of interviews and auditions. I'm looking forward to a busy summer, so let's hope something works out!
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
No-Name Dino: the adventure begins
This is the tale of No-Name Dino. I found him cruising around on a Mega-Bus. I bathed him in multiple squeezes of my hand sanitizer and then again in a Starbucks bathroom. And then the adventure began.
He is a pink dinosaur with blue patches on his back. He likes going new places and meeting new people and experiencing different swatches of fabric. Like this one below. No-Name Dino likes things with two colors like his back. He also liked the dog hair on it because it smelled like a dog.
No-Name Dino had never been to New York City before. He liked all the stripes on the ground. he didn't like when the cars drove over the stripes because he didn't understand that the stripes were just paint and that the cars couldn't hurt it. No-Name Dino isn't very bright.
He pretended he was a giant dinosaur made out of real dinosaur flesh and tried to cross the street. He didn't get too far before the cars scared him away. Like I said, not very bright.
No-Name Dino learns to mind the gap. I told him they only really say that in London. Mind the Gap is also a movie starring Alan King, but you didn't need to know that.
No-Name Dino gets overwhelmed by the concrete of the city and finds solace in a potted plant.
OH HEEEEEEEEY!
All that traipsing through the jungle makes No-Name Dino very thirsty. A Bodega offers plenty of liquid options. He has trouble picking out which.
Peach tea, green tea, which Arizona should he take?
No-Name Dino makes his decision based solely on golf swing. The result is delightfully delicious. Not to lemony not too heavy on tea. Dino is pleased with the Palmer. He considers taking up golf.
No-Name finds himself remarkably lonely in a city of millions. He hopes for a friend. He finds an egg. He assumes there is some baby creature inside.
This mystery egg perplexes Dino.
[Not Pictured]: No-Name Dino, disappointed at the outcome of breaking open the egg drinks himself into a gooey stupor. In a scotch-induced fantasy he finds a friend.
In actuality...
he was talking to this guy the entire time --->
Bed time comes for our friend. He's drunk, he's tired, he's in dinosaur dreamland.
Update: No-Name Dino wandered away in the night. Perhaps he slept-walk. Dinosaurs are know to do that after drinking scotch. Look it up.
Stay tuned for the next installment of No-Name Dino!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Paris in Philadelphia
So this Sunday marked the end of the Philadelphia International Festival of Arts. It was a huge festival with tons of stuff going on around the city. Of course, I was only interested in stuff that was free. And even then, I pretty much only made it to a couple of things. But they were good. Oh so good.
I actually worked the opening gala for PIFA. At $750 a plate you can imagine what kind of people were at this event. The Philly elite. After dinner the Philadelphia School of Circus Arts (yes there is one) performed. Using sandbags as counterweights they scaled the facade of Kimmel's Verizon Hall and did neato things while swinging above the ritzy people in the lobby. That night was also the premiere of the Eiffel Tower light show in the Kimmel Center Lobby. I've seen it thrice at this point. It's a nice little show. Much different that I had expected. A bit more abstract. Last Saturday evening we (really the beau) led the campaign to actually lie down underneath the tower and watch the show from inside. It was a beautiful perspective, if not totally overwhelming at times.
The tower will remain in the Kimmel Center Lobby for some more weeks and I believe they will still be doing the light show Thurs-Sat evenings. Go see it for yourself.
And last Saturday was the street fair. I really love when streets get shut down. Not when I'm driving though. Or when there are so many people roaming around you want to start flailing your arms just to clear some air. Broad Street was so lovely on Saturday, minus the people, minus the traffic, minus the overpriced vendors. There were patches of grass, benches, street performers, fountains, live music...it was nice. There was even a Ferris Wheel with a longer line that the porta-potties. The thing that everyone was waiting for, of course, was the aerial performance promised. La Compagnie Trans Express would be putting on a show a mere 100ft above our heads just outside of the Kimmel Center. But, rather than attempt to convey how beautifully whimsical it was YOU CAN WATCH MY VIDEOS!!! Most of these were taken on my blackberry. Not too bad for a smartphone.
I actually worked the opening gala for PIFA. At $750 a plate you can imagine what kind of people were at this event. The Philly elite. After dinner the Philadelphia School of Circus Arts (yes there is one) performed. Using sandbags as counterweights they scaled the facade of Kimmel's Verizon Hall and did neato things while swinging above the ritzy people in the lobby. That night was also the premiere of the Eiffel Tower light show in the Kimmel Center Lobby. I've seen it thrice at this point. It's a nice little show. Much different that I had expected. A bit more abstract. Last Saturday evening we (really the beau) led the campaign to actually lie down underneath the tower and watch the show from inside. It was a beautiful perspective, if not totally overwhelming at times.
The tower will remain in the Kimmel Center Lobby for some more weeks and I believe they will still be doing the light show Thurs-Sat evenings. Go see it for yourself.
And last Saturday was the street fair. I really love when streets get shut down. Not when I'm driving though. Or when there are so many people roaming around you want to start flailing your arms just to clear some air. Broad Street was so lovely on Saturday, minus the people, minus the traffic, minus the overpriced vendors. There were patches of grass, benches, street performers, fountains, live music...it was nice. There was even a Ferris Wheel with a longer line that the porta-potties. The thing that everyone was waiting for, of course, was the aerial performance promised. La Compagnie Trans Express would be putting on a show a mere 100ft above our heads just outside of the Kimmel Center. But, rather than attempt to convey how beautifully whimsical it was YOU CAN WATCH MY VIDEOS!!! Most of these were taken on my blackberry. Not too bad for a smartphone.
So this is one of the performers sent to entertain us while they waited for the sun to finish setting.
And the performance begins! In the middle of that net thing there was a liberty bell that this one dude just sat there ringing the whole time.
And more video!
Keep in mind that this whole thing was happening way up in the air. From our vantage point we didn't quite get the full effect of seeing just how high up they were.
The best thing about this whole performance? We didn't have to pay a single penny for it. HOOAH!
All in all, a lovely day. The weather was just gorgeous, the price was right, and the company I kept was pleasant as well. If you missed it, I'm terribly sorry. At least with the power of smartphones and youtube you can see what you missed!
Monday, April 11, 2011
A Mouse Tale (3rd Installment)
I've got a talent for discovering mice. So far I've found 4, in various states of mortality. And this always seems to happen when my roommate is out of town. And I always find them right after coming home. If you aren't familiar with my mouse saga, otherwise known as mouse-pocaplyse please give the post a quick look and you'll see just how traumatizing this all is.
A week or so ago I discovered what was left of a mouse on this sticky pad trap thing that had been sitting around behind our spice rack for MONTHS. It was more bait that sticky stuff really. There was gooey peanut butter on there, cracker crumbs and I think what used to be a moist piece of feta cheese on there. Each element was added in hopes of luring, what we thought, was the sole mouse in the apartment. It finally worked. While searching for some delightful spices for a chicken breast I did a double take at the sticky trap and registered that there was indeed an itty bitty mouse body on there. It looked like it was sleeping. I told myself it was sleeping. And I'm sure it was still sleeping when it got thrown onto the garbage truck. And I thought that was the end of the reign of terrible mice.
Until tonight.
So I get home after suffering through a terrible bus ride from NYC to Philly. [My experience with MegaBus has been awesome so far, and the service was fine today. I was just surrounded by every child passenger on the damn thing. I was first in line so I was totally stoked to get the front seat on the top level. They have cup holders. I succeeded in holding down my territory for a bit until all at once, right when I thought I was in the clear, three families ascended the staircase and positioned their cranky children in the seats surrounding me. And the seat kicking began. Thanks to some Coltrane on my ipod, and an interesting book in my lap I quickly fell into the rhythm of travel and finally arrived back home. Still, I was in no mood to dispose of a mouse. Which is, of course, what I needed to do.]
I made a cup of tea and threw my latest Netflix into the dvd player when I heard a rustle. We've gotten in the habit of putting a lid on the cast iron pan when we're done cooking with it, but it's still too hot to wipe out. I looked toward the stove top, a favorite land of the mice-folk, and saw in the reflection of the pot lid--a tail. A little wiry tail. THE MOUSE WAS INSIDE THE POT. AND THERE WAS ALREADY A LID ON IT. My work had practically been done for me. Still, I didn't want to deal with the matter. It was too late to call my mom to get her input on the situation. Naturally, I informed my roommate of the fourth occurrence in which I'd been the one to find the mouse and called my boyfriend to get his emotional support. They both gave me the same answer: throw it out the window. I did. So RIP little buddy. I'm glad you got the chance to fly.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
THE ENCOUNTER- a true Philly story
I had a lovely night last night. Went to a new pub, saw some friends play some amazing music, and supported other such musicians at an open mic night. [Land Ho! dear Dani. Land Ho, indeed]. But one portion of the night will surely remain, gnawing at the back of my brain for a long, long while. The story is below.
THE ENCOUNTER
I walked upstairs from the bathroom, schooched my way behind the patrons at the bar and bumped into him. He turned around, "Oh, I'm sorry darlin'. I like your sweater. We're both wearing sweaters". He takes my hand, we shake. He is obviously drunk. Beyond drunk really, a state rather unexpected for a Monday night. I try to continue on my way, he once again reaches to shake my hand (I assume), and an awkward arm sonata occurs. I play flirtation, cold flirtation in order to get back to my seat and my beer. It's often the best option when you're unaware of what manner of inebriated fool you are speaking to. Instead of surrendering to his palm I contract my hand, extend my pointer and thumb in a gun-like form. I click my tongue twice emulating a pistol. A safe way to express: nice meeting you, you're drunk, I'm out of here. Not the wisest decision, but hindsight is 20/20.
"I have one of those", he says as he lifts up his cream colored sweater to reveal a handgun. "I'm a cop". I fell every muscle in my body grow tense. A cop, in a bar, barely able to form coherent sentences, with his gun an arm's length away. Right away I went into some form of crisis mode. I remained a touch coy and engaged, all the while preparing to retreat at any moment. The proper option I thought, especially when I suddenly was hyper-aware of the bullets nestled in their holster just below his right hip. And without even being asked he pulls out his wallet and proudly displays its contents. A license and a badge. Officer C---, drunken fool. "I shot a guy down on 12th. Which way is that?" I point west, eager to end this whole experience. Much to my horror he continues, "It was about 3 years ago. Black guy. He shot at me first, though." How to respond to such a thing? What terrible cop drama am I caught in? I nod my head, acknowledging that he has just told me something that I never wanted to hear, let alone at an open mic night at a neighborhood bar. He echoed my earlier hand motion along with the click, click of the hand-puppet gun. "It was awesome", he brags as he then charades the aim and precision of shooting his actual gun, along with sound effects. "Ba-boom", he croons as he reenacts the kick back of his weapon. There was pride and joy and ego in his voice and eyes. He enjoyed shooting this man all those years ago, enough to immediately find a way to bring it up, and aimed to impress me with his story. This was a man I did not trust. An insincere soul. A very tangible threat. A cop?
"You got a boyfriend?", Officer C--- asks and I head towards my beer, my bag, and the exit. "Yes, I do" I said assertively. He interrogates me with his eyes. "Yes, I really do", finally losing the soft, safe edge of a young romantic. He takes my hand, delicately, and kisses it. I fill with discomfort and disgust. Racist, killer, Officer C--- with the gun on his hip has drunkenly hit on me. Filled me with the feeling of rotten justice, much like putrid vegetables. I may have even told him my first name early in the encounter. Finally, with as much girlish charm as I can stand to fabricate, I excuse myself. "Well, I've got a beer waiting for me". He takes my hand again. "Goodbye, miss". "Goodbye...sir". I swallow the rotten lump of that term of respect. He didn't deserve it, not one bit. I rush back to my stool, my bag, and my beer.
In all this happening lasted only about 5 minutes, but I felt like I had been trapped in a timeless void. It was beyond uncomfortable. I sat down, took a breath, recounted the disturbing tale to my roommate sitting next to me, and upon his urgings wrote it down quickly, which is what you've just read. After I was finished with the last sentence I calmly put away my pen and sipped deliberately at my lager, forcing myself to forget the matter and enjoy the music.
THE ENCOUNTER
I walked upstairs from the bathroom, schooched my way behind the patrons at the bar and bumped into him. He turned around, "Oh, I'm sorry darlin'. I like your sweater. We're both wearing sweaters". He takes my hand, we shake. He is obviously drunk. Beyond drunk really, a state rather unexpected for a Monday night. I try to continue on my way, he once again reaches to shake my hand (I assume), and an awkward arm sonata occurs. I play flirtation, cold flirtation in order to get back to my seat and my beer. It's often the best option when you're unaware of what manner of inebriated fool you are speaking to. Instead of surrendering to his palm I contract my hand, extend my pointer and thumb in a gun-like form. I click my tongue twice emulating a pistol. A safe way to express: nice meeting you, you're drunk, I'm out of here. Not the wisest decision, but hindsight is 20/20.
"I have one of those", he says as he lifts up his cream colored sweater to reveal a handgun. "I'm a cop". I fell every muscle in my body grow tense. A cop, in a bar, barely able to form coherent sentences, with his gun an arm's length away. Right away I went into some form of crisis mode. I remained a touch coy and engaged, all the while preparing to retreat at any moment. The proper option I thought, especially when I suddenly was hyper-aware of the bullets nestled in their holster just below his right hip. And without even being asked he pulls out his wallet and proudly displays its contents. A license and a badge. Officer C---, drunken fool. "I shot a guy down on 12th. Which way is that?" I point west, eager to end this whole experience. Much to my horror he continues, "It was about 3 years ago. Black guy. He shot at me first, though." How to respond to such a thing? What terrible cop drama am I caught in? I nod my head, acknowledging that he has just told me something that I never wanted to hear, let alone at an open mic night at a neighborhood bar. He echoed my earlier hand motion along with the click, click of the hand-puppet gun. "It was awesome", he brags as he then charades the aim and precision of shooting his actual gun, along with sound effects. "Ba-boom", he croons as he reenacts the kick back of his weapon. There was pride and joy and ego in his voice and eyes. He enjoyed shooting this man all those years ago, enough to immediately find a way to bring it up, and aimed to impress me with his story. This was a man I did not trust. An insincere soul. A very tangible threat. A cop?
"You got a boyfriend?", Officer C--- asks and I head towards my beer, my bag, and the exit. "Yes, I do" I said assertively. He interrogates me with his eyes. "Yes, I really do", finally losing the soft, safe edge of a young romantic. He takes my hand, delicately, and kisses it. I fill with discomfort and disgust. Racist, killer, Officer C--- with the gun on his hip has drunkenly hit on me. Filled me with the feeling of rotten justice, much like putrid vegetables. I may have even told him my first name early in the encounter. Finally, with as much girlish charm as I can stand to fabricate, I excuse myself. "Well, I've got a beer waiting for me". He takes my hand again. "Goodbye, miss". "Goodbye...sir". I swallow the rotten lump of that term of respect. He didn't deserve it, not one bit. I rush back to my stool, my bag, and my beer.
In all this happening lasted only about 5 minutes, but I felt like I had been trapped in a timeless void. It was beyond uncomfortable. I sat down, took a breath, recounted the disturbing tale to my roommate sitting next to me, and upon his urgings wrote it down quickly, which is what you've just read. After I was finished with the last sentence I calmly put away my pen and sipped deliberately at my lager, forcing myself to forget the matter and enjoy the music.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
GULP--a brief late night romp through your mouth
So...
You ever watch yourself swallow in a mirror? Seriously, go do it the next time you brush your teeth. It's weird. And while you are reading this try and swallow, right now. Do it. Notice how your tongue moves in the back of your throat as you attempt to swallow sans proper lubrication. It's like a little sea cucumber inside your head.
That's grotesque. So sorry. I should give my tongue more respect. After all my tongue lets me taste delightful treats and verbalize my thoughts, amazing what a 10cm muscle can do (that's 4 inches for you non-metric types). And in exchange for its incredible functions all my tongue needs in return is the ability to make me cringe if I bite it, or burn it, or go too long without brushing my teeth (a rare occurrence, anyone who knows me knows I do enjoy a good teeth brushing).
Some facts about the mechanism of swallowing: (you can just scroll down now and look and some fun animal pictures, or you could take a moment out of your day and learn a little bit more about your body-no pressure or anything). There are three phases to swallowing: ORAL, PHARYNGEAL, and ESOPHAGEAL. Swallowing in scientific terms is deglutition and the proper execution of this action will result in goodies traveling from your mouth to your pharynx to esophagus to your happy tummy, and so on. Failure in this endeavor results in food going to the trachea then embarrassing coughing, or choking, which is just no good. But you knew that already.
So when you take that bite of apple, cheese, or whatever edible treasure you've decided to ingest the morsel begins in your mouth where saliva mixes with the food and you masticate. You masticate hard. Food then forms a bolus (a ball-shaped mass) and proceeds to the back of the tongue where a trough forms in the muscle from front to back against the hard palate. If the bolus is too dry- not enough saliva-it will not be swallowed (why you just can't eat all those Saltines without some water on the side). From the back of the mouth the food bolus moves along the palate and into the esophageal passage with the help of muscles in the back of the tongue. From there on reflex takes over for a moment while the muscles scattered over the base of the tongue provoke the next phase. At the onset of the pharyngeal phase all chewing, breathing, and coughing functions are inhibited. You can't breathe while swallowing. You just can't, so stop trying. The soft palate becomes tense as the pharynx pulls upwards and forwards as it prepares to receive the bolus, like a garage door opening to allow a tiny food bowling ball on it's path down the driveway. I'm sorry, that was an incredibly odd way of illustrating that process, which most likely didn't need to be illustrated in the first place. Maybe you should just scroll down. As the pharynx pull up, the side walls contract so that only a smaller bolus can pass. Small bites people. Chew well, or you'll hurt yourself. As a consequence of swallowing the auditory tube opens, equalizing the pressure in the middle ear and the nasopharynx. (This is why they tell you to swallow continuously as your airplane takes off). A series of muscles then contract to help the food bolus travel down the esophagus, gravity has little to do with this process. In the final phase the sphincter (such a hilarious word) relaxes so food can pass through eventually reaching the stomach. From there stuff happens, nutrients are absorbed, food is broken down and makes its way elsewhere. You can piece it all together I'm sure. Swallowing begins as a voluntary act, but once you start, you can't stop. For real, your muscles take over and you can't exactly tell them no, now, can you? [On a completely unrelated note: yes, I like to use commas, deal with it.]
So to conclude this mini-musing on your lovely, weird tongue and swallowing, please enjoy the following images.
You ever watch yourself swallow in a mirror? Seriously, go do it the next time you brush your teeth. It's weird. And while you are reading this try and swallow, right now. Do it. Notice how your tongue moves in the back of your throat as you attempt to swallow sans proper lubrication. It's like a little sea cucumber inside your head.
That's grotesque. So sorry. I should give my tongue more respect. After all my tongue lets me taste delightful treats and verbalize my thoughts, amazing what a 10cm muscle can do (that's 4 inches for you non-metric types). And in exchange for its incredible functions all my tongue needs in return is the ability to make me cringe if I bite it, or burn it, or go too long without brushing my teeth (a rare occurrence, anyone who knows me knows I do enjoy a good teeth brushing).
Some facts about the mechanism of swallowing: (you can just scroll down now and look and some fun animal pictures, or you could take a moment out of your day and learn a little bit more about your body-no pressure or anything). There are three phases to swallowing: ORAL, PHARYNGEAL, and ESOPHAGEAL. Swallowing in scientific terms is deglutition and the proper execution of this action will result in goodies traveling from your mouth to your pharynx to esophagus to your happy tummy, and so on. Failure in this endeavor results in food going to the trachea then embarrassing coughing, or choking, which is just no good. But you knew that already.
So when you take that bite of apple, cheese, or whatever edible treasure you've decided to ingest the morsel begins in your mouth where saliva mixes with the food and you masticate. You masticate hard. Food then forms a bolus (a ball-shaped mass) and proceeds to the back of the tongue where a trough forms in the muscle from front to back against the hard palate. If the bolus is too dry- not enough saliva-it will not be swallowed (why you just can't eat all those Saltines without some water on the side). From the back of the mouth the food bolus moves along the palate and into the esophageal passage with the help of muscles in the back of the tongue. From there on reflex takes over for a moment while the muscles scattered over the base of the tongue provoke the next phase. At the onset of the pharyngeal phase all chewing, breathing, and coughing functions are inhibited. You can't breathe while swallowing. You just can't, so stop trying. The soft palate becomes tense as the pharynx pulls upwards and forwards as it prepares to receive the bolus, like a garage door opening to allow a tiny food bowling ball on it's path down the driveway. I'm sorry, that was an incredibly odd way of illustrating that process, which most likely didn't need to be illustrated in the first place. Maybe you should just scroll down. As the pharynx pull up, the side walls contract so that only a smaller bolus can pass. Small bites people. Chew well, or you'll hurt yourself. As a consequence of swallowing the auditory tube opens, equalizing the pressure in the middle ear and the nasopharynx. (This is why they tell you to swallow continuously as your airplane takes off). A series of muscles then contract to help the food bolus travel down the esophagus, gravity has little to do with this process. In the final phase the sphincter (such a hilarious word) relaxes so food can pass through eventually reaching the stomach. From there stuff happens, nutrients are absorbed, food is broken down and makes its way elsewhere. You can piece it all together I'm sure. Swallowing begins as a voluntary act, but once you start, you can't stop. For real, your muscles take over and you can't exactly tell them no, now, can you? [On a completely unrelated note: yes, I like to use commas, deal with it.]
So to conclude this mini-musing on your lovely, weird tongue and swallowing, please enjoy the following images.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
swinging from the rafters
I went to the Philadelphia Zoo today. And it was magical, as always. The best part? Sitting for a long while watching the baby orangutan Batu play. But I don't need to recount the experience in text, I HAVE VIDEO AND PICTURES!!! I know, you're just as excited as I am.
here's a LINK if you prefer it that way
other notable sights? this pile of tortoises --->
this delightful lemur. you know, just hanging outthis sassy peacock, strutting around, making sure we all appreciate just how brilliantly blue his neck plumage is. what a bitch.
and these big, beautiful gorillas. the big poppa silver back was sitting in a bucket and one of the lovely ladies was apparently in the mood for a profile picture photo shoot.
pretty good for a cell phone camera, eh?
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