i heart patricia arquette

"You see messages from dead people?"
(You really need to hear Neve Campbell's delivery of this line to love it as much as I do.)

God, I love Medium.

And I am deeply, deeply upset that I will be in Germany during the season finale. I started screaming at the screen when I realized that this episode was going to be another "to be continued..." Waaahh.

the young and the restless

I was at the gym today, trying to make up for the fact that when I leave for Germany on Monday I won't be able to exercise at all (except sporadic attempts of the "8 minutes abs" video with my mother), and I was listening to various weird disco tracks that I downloaded onto my iPod god-knows-when and watching, of all things, The Young and the Restless. Okay, so "watching" is probably an overstatment, as it was more of a distraction, an inability I have to work out in front of a big flat-screen tv without being drawn into whatever's on. Even if it's The Young and the Restless. Sometimes, if I'm in the right mood, I'll watch even if it's Nascar or NFL or some other ESPN nonsense (I draw the line at golf, though). Anyway, my post's not really supposed to be about that. I don't care about The Young and the Restless, except that the title seemed apt. Onwards.

That said, I took my qualifying exams a little over a week ago, and while it was tremendously exciting to jump through that one huge, firey hoop, I now find myself in a sort of general malaise, a restless stupor, if you will. The fact that I proctored a 3-hour calculus exam today for a little bit of extra money isn't helping matters. Proctoring is probably one of the most mind-numbing things you can do yourself--staring at 220 students as they sweat over their answer sheets, constantly moving about and scanning the rows and rows of seats to make sure no one's cheating. I'd honestly rather watch grass grow because at least then I could take a nap or read a book and not have to worry that the grass would sneak off to the bathroom and read a cheat sheet off of its cell phone. And I have to do two more of these this week!

Oh well, I really shouldn't complain. I am getting paid for my misery, and I did willingly sign up for the hours. I thought that sitting and doing nothing for 3 hours would feed and placate my post-exam inertia, but apparently all it did was make me even more restless and useless. I'm supposed to be writing an abstract to submit to a call for papers, but instead I'm doing everything but: fiddling with my MySpace and Friendster profiles and photos (neither of which anyone but me reads, I think), posting to my blog (ditto the last parenthetical), checking my email literally every 10 minutes (why are there no emails? why???), and a whole host of other things which I refuse to own up to.

Pre-exam, I felt very strongly that I should have a post-exam break to enjoy some relative freedom from writing before what I hope will be a productive summer. Funny that now I don't really want that freedom as much as I thought. My attempts at relaxation have made me restless, sullen and emotionally needy. How tragic. Almost melodramatic. Soap-operatic?

Okay. Clearly I'm losing my mind. Perfect mindset to write an abstract.

poetry with an edge

Something my mother sent me this afternoon that gave me much pleasure:

Wordsworth...for the YouTube generation

qualifying for...something or other

Just a quick note before I bury my nose back in a book: On Friday I'm taking my Qualifying Exams (after which, assuming I pass, I will be a Ph.D. Candidate and ABD--"all but dissertation"), so if it seems that I have been particularily MIA these past few weeks/months, that's why. Perhaps after my exams, when I have time to breath again, I will report on the incredible craziness of the last few months. Perhaps. In any case, rest assured that if I owe you an email or a letter or a phone call, you'll be hearing from me soon.

dance dance revolution

This video is of myself and my dance instructor (at the time), Edwin Roa, performing an Argentine Tango/Paso Doble routine at a Spring 2000 dance showcase. Wow, that was a long time ago. This was when I was still heavily involved in ballroom dancing and had fantasies of one day competing professionally (now quite doubtful). Of the many dances I performed, I still feel best about this one (except that little bobble at the end with drives me crazy to this day). (Paso Doble, for those who are curious, is a form of ballroom dance that mimics bull fighting; the man/leader is the matador and the woman/follower represents the flag. How boring. It's always bothered me that the woman isn't the bull. Or maybe that should be the guy. I don't know.)

I am certainly risking (assuring?) embarrasment by posting this, but since my father has already elected to upload various recitals, readings and showcases (mostly my mother's) all over YouTube, it seems like the damage might already be done!

another reason not to go to prison...

http://www.thestate.com/mld/thestate/news/local/16861780.htm

Is it just me, or does this seem very wrong? Not organ donation. But organ donation in exchange for reduced prison sentences? Doesn't that make it less of a donation and more like a...er...bribe? What's next? Haven't any of you people read Kazuo Ishiguru's Never Let Me Go?

Let's see what Stephen has to say about it:

it's a dog's life

Introducing a new excuse in the "dog ate my homework" family of excuses:

"I'm sorry. I didn't get my dissertation done because my animals smothered me, insisting I sit on a very tiny corner of the couch where they could all pile either on top of me or near me and make it absolutely impossible for me to turn on or even open my laptop."

In exchange for making writing occassionally difficult, Fargo has agreed to help me with my dissertation reseach:


Yeah, uh, we'll see how that goes...

christmas in march

Yes, yes, it's another vastly belated post. I'm not even going to bother offering up excuses. I'm sure you could all recite them for me by now. In any case, I was recently procrastinating by adding pictures to my rarely-used MySpace account, when I came across a group of photos I meant to post just after the holidays. They were already re-sized and everything! So here you go: a little photo-diary of our 2 weeks in Virginia over Christmas and New Years.

Apparently it was my father's goal this winter to continue where horseback riding and karate leave off and complete my training in becoming either one of Charlie's Angels or James Bond. Not that I'm complaining, although Freddy+new motorcycle sort of terrifies me.

That's me on the back of Fred's new Buell. We were riding up to the high school parking lot, where I was submitted to an exhilarating thirty minute motorcycle crash course:

Yes, that's me driving. I was going about 5 mph at the time. It was fun, I have to say, even though I dropped the bike twice (one of those times it just about landed on my leg!) while trying to get off. I don't think I'll be getting a motorcycle anytime soon though. Not only is April very opposed to the idea, but Rochester just doesn't have the most hospitable climate for enjoying the spirit of the open road. Now motocross, though, that'd be fun! (I'm not joking.)

Here Rita looks cross at the mere prospect of two wheels. She rode home behind Fred and afterwards said, "Well, I did that once. Once is enough." She looks good in yellow, though, doesn't she? Like a super snazzy Storm Tropper.

Of course, no good Angel is complete without some weapons training. That's a miniture Uzi in my hands. Legal in Virginia. Not that I'm the least surprised.

April fired her fair share of fancy guns, too. We were shooting at pieces of paper stuck to boards for the most part, but the exploding targets a friend of my father's provided were a fun novelty.

Here, Fargo looks perplexed: "Hey! Just as long as you don't mistake me for a deer!" Don't worry, Fargo, paper targets are all I'm interested in. Except if we're using tranquilizer darts--he could have used one or two of those the day he ran away from us for 15 minutes as we were walking with my friend E on her property. Her dog was well-behaved and stood there looking confused as we ran off into the forest calling out for Fargo. We were scared out of our wits that he'd fallen down a hole (Timmy, Lassie's fallen down the well!). Don't you dare do that again you silly, silly dog!

On to gentler pursuits: The night before Christmas, we snuggled down into bed for the family tradition as Rita read us Father Christmas by Raymond Briggs. This book has seen better days, but we just can't bring ourselves to buy a new copy. This year, everyone partook in the ritual:

And the next morning: presents! Yes, I have a bow on my head. In the spirit of the holidays. Just go along with it and don't ask questions.


And then there's one of Rita's masterfully wrapped presents. Believe me, this snowman is tame compared to some of her creations:

And, lastly, the family photo. Each year, getting us all into formation is a taxing, exhausting and ridiculous enterprise punctuated by lots of griping and uncontrollable giggle fits. But in the end there's usually at least one good picture...out of about 4000 takes.

at least now I know what a flank steak is...

The other night I had a fellow non-vegetarian over for dinner and made the best tacos in the entire world, and although I think it's safe to say that Food Fridays is now officially defunct, I definitely want to share this recipe with the world. It's funny because I don't eat meat that much--not only because April's a vegetarian but also because cooking meat is a pain and not worth the effort--and I'm not a huge fan of red meat (which is why I had to ask the Wegman's butcher what a flank steak was), but these tacos were killer (no pun intended, PETA).

So, without further ado:

Tacos Carne Asada
Recipe courtesy Tyler Florence and the Food Network
(The original food.com recipe also includes a pico de gallo. We had guacamole and mango salsa on our tacos instead. And we had fried plantains as an appetizer. Hmmm...oil and starch...yum...)

2 pounds flank or skirt steak, trimmed of excess fat
1 recipe Mojo, recipe follows
Olive oil, for coating the grill
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
16 (7-inch) corn tortillas
Shredded romaine or iceberg lettuce, for serving
Chopped white onion, for serving
Shredded Jack cheese, for serving
1/2 cup Pico de Gallo, recipe follows
2 limes, cut in wedges for serving

Lay the flank steak in a large baking dish and pour the mojo over it. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour or up to 8 hours, so the flavors can sink into the meat. Don't marinate the steak for more than 8 hours though, or the fibers break down too much and the meat gets mushy.

Preheat an outdoor grill or a ridged grill pan over medium-high flame (you can also use a broiler--this is what I did since it's winter and way too cold to grill). Brush the grates with a little oil to prevent the meat from sticking. Pull the steak out of the mojo marinade and season the steak on both sides with salt and pepper. Grill (or broil) the steak for 7 to 10 minutes per side, turning once, until medium-rare. Remove the steak to a cutting board and let it rest for 5 minutes to allow the juices to settle. Thinly slice the steak across the grain on a diagonal.

Warm the tortillas for 30 seconds on each side in a dry skillet or on the grill, until toasty and pliable.

To make the tacos, stack up 2 of the warm tortillas, lay about 4 ounces of beef down the center, and sprinkle with some lettuce, onion, and cheese. Top each taco with a spoonful of the Pico de Gallo salsa and garnish with lime wedges. Repeat with the remaining tortillas.

Mojo:
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 jalapeno, minced
1 large handful fresh cilantro leaves, finely chopped
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 limes, juiced
1 orange, juiced
2 tablespoons white vinegar
1/2 cup olive oilIn a mortar and pestle or bowl, mash together the garlic, jalapeno, cilantro, salt, and pepper to make a paste. Put the paste in a glass jar or plastic container. Add the lime juice, orange juice, vinegar, and oil. Shake it up really well to combine. Use as a marinade for chicken or beef or as a table condiment.

giddy up or hiya, your choice

So I just got back from horseback riding. Today I was on a crazy little pony named Ty. He's only 4 and is shorter than me (I'm just short and light enough that they sometimes have me ride some of the spunkier ponies), but boy can he jump! On the flat he was calm and sensitive and responsive--very sweet--but once we started jumping, he suddenly became feisty and over-excited, galloping up to every jump and leaping about twice as high as he needed to to clear them. Anyway, after coming home and having a shower, I remembered that I've been planning to post a few photos of my various athletic endeavors that my parents took when they came to visit in early December. Sure, having them join me (at my invitation) and videotape me at all my sporting events made me feel like a little kid again, but in a good way.

In any case, please bear with me (or feel free to skip ahead) while I do a little bit of show and tell:

First, my parents came with me to my horseback riding lesson on Wednesday (Nov. 29). Before the holidays I was riding a horse named Flight 101 (Flight, for short) a lot. He’s owned by a girl who went off to college and left her horse at the stable to be leased; my riding instructor tried to convince me to half lease Flight, but not only is the $300/month half lease a bit out of my price range, but I also don’t have the time (as much as I’d like to) to ride three times a week. I haven't ridden Flight since early December, so I imagine someone else agreed to lease him since then.


Flight’s an excellent horse—sometimes he fumbles a bit over fences, but only at first (like he’s nervous or, ha!, flighty). He’s really lovely under saddle. Even though I’m mostly doing hunter-jumper now, I still love riding a horse that has a sensitivity for basic dressage; he transitions seamlessly between a smooth sitting trot and a faster, more elongated posting trot and, even more unusual (for the horses I ride regularly), he has a great collected canter which makes it feel almost like he’s floating in place.


He jumps huge, as you can see from the second picture of his jump over the oxer, where I try in vain to stay with him but end up sitting on his back much more than I should (I should be stretched out with my hands up on his neck, not all hunched over). I prefer jumping Hughie, one of the stable’s horses, although his gaits are not nearly as refined as Flight’s; Hughie’s still challenging—he’s got a lot of power and certainly isn’t an automatic pilot kind of horse—but he’s more predictable over fences. For example, unlike Flight, you can be fairly certain Hughie will jump the fence in front of him and at a decent pace; Flight sometimes slows to a walk right in front of the jump and then jumps it anyway, which is disconcerting. But the day of the parental photo shoot, Flight was behaving himself, although I almost fell off when the horse and I had an argument about which way to turn after a jump and we nearly ran into a wall. All par for the course.

On Thursday, my parents came to my dojo to watch my karate and jiu-jitsu classes. I went to the brown belt class that night because the black belt class I usually go to is in the afternoons and I thought it would be easier on all of us to just go to two classes in a row (since jiu-jitsu's right after the brown belt class). We did some free sparring that night without protective gear (so no real punching or kicking, just light smacks).

After karate, we rolled out the mats for jiu-jitsu, which I've only been doing for about a year and a half (I think). Below I wrestle with one of the few other women in the class (there's 4 of us on a good day, but sometimes it's just one or two...often it's just me and a room full of guys).

In the above picture, I'm about to do an arm bar (one of many possible submissions--with this one you over-extend the shoulder and, well, it hurts) on one of the jiu-jitsu senseis. Don't be too impressed; he's probably defending at about 25% in order to let me practice different moves. One of the things that's great about jiu-jitsu is that technique is ultimately more important than sheer muscle strength, or so I'm told. While karate is my first love, I think jiu-jitsu might be the better sport for bare-bones, end-of-the-line self-defense since it's a lot about instinct and positioning--e.g. some positions are defensive, some offensive, and some safer or more vulnerable than others. When a 180-pound guy is about to choke you, it's good to have an instinctual sense of how to get away or at least how to defend yourself until you can knee him in the face and run away (not an option in class, of course). Since I watch way too much CSI and Law and Order, these are the things I think about.

Better yet, I could knee the attacker in the face and then ride away on my pony!

better than the sunday comics page

As of the past 6 months or so, I've added the indulgence of webcomics to my ever-diversifying armory of procrastination techniques. While it began as a bit of a fancy, many of the comicistas out there on the internet are actually fantastic artists and have created compelling, fascinating and complicated worlds in their work. A word of warning, when you start with a new comic you’ll get this great rush of being able to read hundreds of pages of archived material. But, once you reach the end of what’s been written/drawn so far you will likely feel, as I did/do, very deprived as you wait for the next installment(s). Adis over at Count Your Sheep posts the most regularly (three to fives times a week), although his comic is also in a strip format (like newspaper comics) rather than a graphic novel, so it’s probably easier to produce those faster. Inverloch, Angels 2200, and Flipside are also pretty regular (two to three times a week). Alpha Shade, which is gorgeous and complex, has the longest lag between updates, so much so that the artists only just posted a regular update schedule on their site (although time alone will tell if they stick to it).

Here are a few of my favorites, in a vague sort of order. In order of my dedication, perhaps:

1. Count Your Sheep is a clever, fun, and cute comic by artist Adrian Ramos (known as Adis). It’s about a girl, her mother and their imaginary sheep, Ship, and is reminiscent of Calvin and Hobbes. I love this strip, and it’s actually a marvel to me that, despite frequent attempts, Adis hasn’t yet managed to get his work syndicated or published somewhere. I think Count Your Sheep is far more interesting and more intelligent than many of the comics you find in, say, The Washington Post.

2. I' m not sure how to describe Alpha Shade because I'm not always entirely sure I know what's going on myself, there's so much going on at once. But this isn't a bad thing. It's gorgeously-rendered and the characters are intriguing and enigmatic. At the stage it's in right now, it's hard to glean the scope of the entire narrative; I've only gathered enough to know that one of the central characters--a pretty typical American 20-something--has become trapped(?) in a parrell universe and finds herself commander of an army. Or something. I don't think my description does Alpha Shade any favors, but if you read it you'll understand why I'm at a loss.

3. Inverloch is a fantasy-adventure story set in a world that's vaguely reminiscent of RPGs I played as a pre-teen, except the characters, setting and social architecture are much more realistically conceived. There's racism and sexism and greed and vanity, and the story is really as much a social allegory as it is a fantastical narrative. And besides, Acheron, one of the main characters, is adorably cute and cuddly.

4. Angels 2200 is a futuristic sci-fi comic set in a world where most of the men have been killed by some sort of plague. It's alternatively amusing and heartbreaking and while it's full of feminine stereotypes, the artists are also meticulous about breaking them whenever possible.

5. Flipside is possibly the weirdest comic I've ever read. About a female jester, a female would-be knight and their adventures, it definitely falls under the fantasy category. A word of warning: while funny and kooky, it's also a bit risque (occassionally in an obviously prurient way) and sometimes quite violent, but intriguing all the same.

Also, check out the Buzz Comics rankings to find more great webcomics if you, like me, are looking for entertaining procrastination.

Okay, back to actual work now. No. Really.

maui sunset, finally finis

First of all: Merry [insert holiday of choice here] to everyone, and a happy New Year! I'm in Virginia visiting my parents, with April, Fargo and Jezebel in tow, of course. So far adventures include the great present unwrapping marathon and riding on Fred's motorcycle (both with and without him--whoever heard of a father encouraging his daughter to learn how to ride a bike!).

Now that I've got a little time to spare, it being winter break and all, I wanted to complete the Maui picture saga. Holiday pictures will be posted as well, but I wouldn't be too shocked if you have to wait a little while for those. I seem to perpetually be a month to a month and a half behind with my blog updates.

Soooo...in the last post, I left off with Amy and Mike's beautiful wedding. After that, April and I stayed on the island for another few days to just relax, soak up the sun and go snorkeling at every possible free moment.

Feeling a bit adventurous, on Wednesday (Nov. 8) we decided to brave the Hana Highway, which traverses the North coast of the island: 52 miles of one-lane bridges, mountainous roads, sharp drop-offs, and over 600 curves (it takes about 3 hours each way from Kahului to Hana in the east).


Of course, we had to make a number of stops on the way--moments of touristy glory gleaned from various magazines and tour guides. After peering over the cliffs off the coast of Paia at the windsurfers (the North coast of Maui is known as one of the top windsurfing sites in the Pacific, or so we were told), we stopped off at a little roadside pull-off where friends of Amy's parents had told us where to access Twin Falls. The walk from the road to the falls was about a mile and the falls themselves were pretty but not spectacular, but the old, Tolkien-esque tree that grew near them was worth the stroll.


On the way back from Hana later in the afternoon, we stopped off at the same roadside fruit stand (near the entrance to the path to the Falls) again to buy a coconut. After drinking all its milk from a straw, the teenager who had sold us the coconut chopped it in half with a machete so we could eat the flesh, too. Yummy coconut--Swiss Family Robinson, here we come!

There were also many scenic viewpoints, with pull-outs that could fit only a car or two—we made the mistake of planning on stopping at many of these on the way back from Hana, but by then it was later in the afternoon and each pull-out, especially near the bridges, was packed full with tourists (some of which should have been told that parking in a curve on a road that is barely two lanes is stupid, stupid, stupid).

In the photo below, April and I managed to squeeze into on of the scenic viewpoints and engaged in a friendly photo-taking exchange with another couple. Typical of vacations, it’s one of the few pictures of us together from the trip.

Once in Hana and its environs the real adventuresome exploring began. Hana is a little town nestled into the Eastern coast. There’s one gas station, a couple of bed and breakfasts, a tacky gift shop, a general store, and a pretty, well-kept state park (friends of ours rented cabins in the state park last year and loved it, but I’m not sure if I’d enjoy being that far removed from the rest of the island). Also, there’s Hana’s famous black sand beach, Waianapanapa; April and I took a stroll there, digging our toes in as well as discovering a little seaside cave where the waves occasionally caused water to shoot out a hole in the top like a blowhole.

From the black sand beach, we went off in search of the mysterious and beautiful red sand beach, Kaihalulu, which, had I not read about in a tour guide and online (and gotten detailed instructions on how to find it), we never would have seen. Getting to this secretive beach entailed parking on a side street, walking through the backyard of a bed and breakfast, climbing down a grassy hill (ignoring “no trespassing” signs), and emerging on a lesser beach, where the sand was a brownish red. From there we followed a hilly and mildly treacherous path (flip-flops did not provide adequate footing) up one side of a cliff face and down the other. Of course, wanting to document our journey, I took picture of the beach from the crest of the hill, though we did wander down and spent some time walking its short length and wading in the crystal clear water.

Apparently, the red sand beach is a place for snorkelers, if the weather is right, and I could definitely believe that considering I could see fish from the beach. However, we later read that snorkeling at this and other coves like it—where a pool of water is surrounded by rocky reefs—can also be quite dangerous for swimmers. It turns out that sharks often lurk just on the ocean-side of the rocks waiting for unsuspecting fish to be washed out from the relatively calm pool on the beach-side to the whirl and turmoil of the ocean.Occasionally, a shark wins the fish lottery and a swimmer washes out with the fish. Hmm...maybe some snorkeling is better left to professionals.

We returned from Hana exhausted—April was also a little harried from all that mountainous driving (since we had a rental car that I couldn’t legally drive), but recovered quickly—but pleased and settled in for another evening in Kihei. We had a fairly decent, though not spectacular meal at a bar/restaurant the name of which I cannot remember, and although the food was fairly good, the cockroach that scampered across our table at one point was not a pleasant dinner companion (to be fair, the restaurant was outdoors, making cockroaches much harder to blame on the management).

After dinner, we spent our second of two nights in our lovely bed and breakfast, What a Wonderful World B&B (we stayed in the Patio Suite, for anyone interested), and had an amazing meal the next day of apple pancakes smothered in coconut syrup, made by the owner and our hostess, Eva Tantillo. She was incredibly friendly and generous, allowing us to leave our luggage in her living room/lobby all day because our flight didn’t leave till midnight, even though we officially checked out late that morning. Her bed and breakfast was inexpensive (in relation to other comparable B&Bs in Kihei as well as most of the hotels), personal (only four rooms), spacious, and welcoming. I would recommend it to anyone (plus, I’m not alone: her B&B gets rave reviews on trip advisor).

April checks her email in our B&B room. That bed in the background was one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept on.

Before jetting off at midnight on Thursday, we walked down the beach in Kihei to experience one more Maui sunset. Allow me one cliché: a perfect end to a perfect trip.

more fish in the sea

As I sat down to prepare my final Maui post, I uncovered a few more cool fish pictures from our days of snorkeling. I thought I'd share them with the inter-world:

Our friend, the pufferfish. Unpuffed, and therefore very cuddly looking.

Two frolicking humuhumunukunuku-apua'as. I ended up getting a decent picture afterall, but you'll need to click to enlarge so you can get a better look.

And, the final beauty: a parrotfish. Even more gorgeous in person, but the photograph's not bad.

obama rama

My new campaign bumper stickers:

the most diverse, but improbable: Obama/Clinton (except she'd never consent to a vice presidency)

the best: Gore/anyone (he could win again...)

the brightest: Gore/Obama (if only)

the beautiful: Stewart/Colbert

nipping at your nose...

Ah...Adrian Ramos over at Count Your Sheep never fails to hit the nail right on the head:

.

i'm already nostalgic

I bet you all thought I had vanished again for another few months, only to continue my Maui report under severe duress and threat of fingernail-pulling, and yet here I am. Anyway, onwards...

If you'll recall from the post before last, I left off on Friday, November 3rd, with April and I getting slowly broiled on the beach while we blissfully snorkelled around. That evening, after surveying and lamenting the sun damage, we changed into some nicer duds (even on Maui, bikinis and board shorts are not really deemed appropriate at a rehearsal dinner). So, at the rehearsal dinner we had our first chance to meet the extended families of the spouses-to-be -- naturally, everyone was lovely (not surprising since Amy and Mike are so great themselves). We ate at the Ma'alaea Grill, and the food was excellent; I had the Cajun blackened Mahi-Mahi and April had some beautifully rare Ahi tuna (plus, the appetizers--Manoa lettuce wraps, crab cakes, and incredible calamari--were to die for). Below, you'll find a picture of me, April, Amy, Mike (on the right) and Brad (the best man). At this point, we are pleasantly stuffed.

The next morning, we awoke with the chirpy birds to another bright and beautiful day and embarked on a caravan drive (with at least four cars and probably fifteen people) to West Maui, where Scott, Amy's brother, promised excellent snorkeling. We ended up north of Kapalua in Honolua Bay, and it was rather amusing to see several snorkeling ships anchored in the waters--while these people paid to be ferried to the Bay, we'd come there all on our own and only having to pay a few dollars to a young boy down the way whose family's property you had to cross to access the beach (they also maintained a surprisingly clean set of porta potties). Snorkeling was good, although the water was a little cloudy. Still, we flippered around for a good hour (after which my ankels were very sore...I actually wasn't totally thrilled about the idea of swimming back to shore from the middle of the Bay--but staying there to drown wasn't really an option).

From Honolua Bay, we drove back down the Western Coast to Kaanapali, where we had lunch--still partially in our bathing suits (with soggy t-shirts over our tops and damp board shorts)--at the Hula Grill. The food was pretty decent, though over-priced for what we got (but what do you expect on a resort beach?). In contrast, when April and I drove to Lahaina later that same evening to meet up with the rest of the gang (all of whom had gone to see Ulalena, a cirque-de-soleil-like production about Hawaiian history and traditions), we had an excellent meal that was quite inexpensive at a small stand-type "restaurant" in The Wharf Cinema Center on Front Street. It's called The Banyan Bistro, and I highly recommend it if you're in Maui; the falafel was wonderful (and if you don't want to take my word for it, here's a little review to tantalize you further). In any case, here's me standing in front of the koi pond in the Center courtyard as we await our meal.

On Sunday, it was wedding day! April's sunburn had cooled enough that she was able to get her bridesmaid massage, and she, Amy and Amy's mom got their hair done up all pretty-like. After much primping and preening, we all headed off to the beautiful Seawatch Resort and Restaurant. The wedding was outside on the lawn, overlooking the most amazing sunset and beach view.

Doesn't April look so pretty?

Aww...

Nope, neither of these pictures have been Photoshopped--at all. It was really that beautiful...

After the wedding, all twenty-five of us (family and friends) settled down for a night of partying and eating (again, excellent crab cakes and a very good meal). There was much dancing and merriment late into the night. And I made the DJ play "Sex Machine" (thank you, Kate!) so all was well.

Monday morning, April and I began our "solo" stay in Maui, but those adventures will have to wait for another post because I'm sleepy and have much grading to do (ergh...students). I'll leave you all with another picture of our stunning condo view: April Writing Postcards, with Palm Trees and Sun.

sensei aviva

On Monday and Wednesday of last week (October 30 and November 1), I endured several grueling hours of karate testing. And a very short while before we flew to Maui (our plane left Thursday at 6am and my testing ended at 9pm the night before), I was told that I had passed the rigourous requirements for the black belt test. These requirements include eight empty-hand katas (a prescribed series of movements and techniques envisioned as fight against multiple, imaginary enemies); three weapons katas (two with the bo--a type of quaterstaff--and one with sais--a pair of pronged short swords, famously used by Raphael, the teenage mutant ninja turtle, and by Gabrielle in the later seasons of Xena: The Warrior Princess); a empty-hand series of prearranged sparring (with two people), called Yakusoku Kumite; a prearranged weapons Kumite, with bos; free sparring; history and terminology; and basic technique--all in front of five black belts of 4th degree rank or higher.

In class today (the first class since I've been back in town) at my dojo, after 3 1/2 years of training in Isshin-Ryu Karate , I received my first degree black belt. My teacher called me "Sensei" as I left the building. This was exceedingly satisfying even though I know that this is only the first, very small, step in my karate education. I've been told that once you receive your black belt it's like starting all over again--the eternal student.

In other news of athletic achievements, April ran the Chicago Marathon on October 22 in support of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and Team-in-Training. She ran for her grandmother, Mollie Miller, finished the 26.2 miles in 4 hours 4 minutes, and was still running strong at the end of the race (she actually sprinted the last 800m). Go April Go!!!

humuhumu-nukunuku-apua'a

Well, April and I have just returned from Maui, and I have many pretty pictures to share. Yes, I know, we're very lucky. But I can also say that there is nothing more depressing than leaving 82 degree weather, sunny skies, and walks along the beach at sunset to return to dreary, grey Rochester in the driving rain. Blah. April and I were coerced (twist my rubber arm, why dontcha) into flying to Maui by our friends Amy and Mike, who wisely decided that this lovely tropical island would be a fabulous place for their wedding. And boy, were they right.

So, last Thursday (Nov. 2), April and I packed up our bags and hopped onto the first of three flights to trek our way across the continent and beyond. The first two flights (Rochester to Pittsburgh and then Pittsburgh to Los Vegas) were relatively calm and as comfortable as being squeezed in a small metal box can be. The third flight, six plus hours across the Pacific, was awful (despite the fact that we practially had the whole plane to ourselves)--we literally had turbelence (and not just mild turbence either) for the full last 4 hours of the flight with little reprieve; they turned off the 'fasten seat belt' sign for about an hour before it went back on and glowed for the rest of the flight--even our flight attendants had to sit down. While that was a rather inauspicious beginning, Maui was wonderful. Perhaps "bad flight, good vacation" should become a new tagline to comfort people after their journey across the not-so-friendly skies.

We arrived on Thursday to pouring rain and encroaching darkness and, though we narrowly missed a big storm that had been raging on and off for the past few days, the weather the entire week we were there was perfect (this makes up for the rainy week in Paris, I think). Despite the rain and slightly confusing directions, we made it to our snug little condo in Ma'alea Harbor (on the southwest side of the island).


Friday, we started our day with coffee with Amy and Mike on the porch of our condo (one of many rented by Amy's parents for the wedding party and guests and also shared with Mike's best man, Brad, a kiwi farmer from California).

{For those who know my night-owlish ways, you'll be shocked to learn that almost everyday in Maui I was up by 7:30 at the latest. I attribute it to the time change--just makes it easier to get up earlier. Of course, blue skies and palm trees, and chirping birds help, too.}

Though we rented our own car, in order to get a sense of the island, we spent Friday morning with Amy and Mike. First, we went to Maui Dive Shop to rent snorkel gear for the week--not only did the woman at the counter give us a great deal (two sets for the price of one), this was by far the best investment we made during the trip. After that, a fabulous breakfast at Stella Blues Cafe in Kihei (city just to the south of Ma'alea)-- I had the Banana Macadamia Nut pancakes with coconut syrup. Best pancakes I've ever had. Next, we accompanied Amy and Mike to get their marriage license, mostly to save time, after which they dropped us off at a beach near Wailea. Now, since we were following Amy and Mike, I have no idea which beach this was (although we were able to find it again on our own later in the week). Maui has over 30 miles of beaches, so my confusion as to exactly where we were is justified.

We thought we were only going to be at the beach for a short time while Amy and Mike ran some errands, but by the time they came back for us we were having so much fun that they left us there. Since we had followed them in our car, we weren't by any means stranded, but we hadn't brought any sunscreen (stupid, stupid--though in our defense it was rainy in the morning and we hadn't realized how sunny and hot it would be by late in the day). This proved to be a huge mistake, as both April and I got sunburnt; I turned a bit purple and itched a few days later, but April turned bright as a lobster and her whole back pealed off in the last few days were on the isle. Poor thing.

Part of what fascinated us so on the beach and ocean that day wereits amazing reefs and the undeniable appeal of breathing underwater (snorkeling is my new favorite hobby, although it's a lot easier to burn when you're floating on your stomach in the water because you can't feel the heat of the sun scorching your back). At the dive shop, we were given this plastic fish identification card, which had lots of colorful little creatures on it that we were sure we wouldn't actually see ourselves. But little did we know that plop down in the water virtually anywhere in Maui where there are rocks and reefs, and you'll find fish. Lots of fish.

Unfortunately, while the Fuji underwater cameras we bought were great, some of the brilliant colors of the fish didn't come out so well in the relative murk of the water. Nevertheless, I'm posting some of my favorite underwater camera photos below (There's one more set of underwater photos currently being developed; I have hopes they'll be better because I tried to get very close to the fish when I took their pictures--the fish were wary but not too perturbed--I'll post those tomorrow if they turned out.)

My favorite fish was the humuhumu-nukunuku-apua'a (aka the reef triggerfish); the unofficial state fish of Hawai'i, they're plentiful in the shallow reefs. The murky pictures I've developed so far didn't do them justice, but this is what they really look like (below). I love the humuhumu-nukunuku-apua'a (not as much fun to type as to say) and stalked them through the ocean trying to get a decent picture (unfortunately, they swim much faster than me).


Since this post is getting rather long, I'll save the rest of the vacation update, including the beautiful wedding photos for another post. On a closing note, April and I were also very lucky (on the many days we snorkeled) to come across a number of sea turtles (at least 5 or 6 different ones)--even a couple huge, old ones covered in barnacles. We tried not to disturb them too much while still getting close enough to get a good look. On Friday, one approached me--whether to greet me as a fellow creature of the sea or to chase me away, I'm not so sure--and I screamed, floundered and got water in my snorkel. I'm not sure what I thought it was going to do to me, but this is not the way to calmly approach sea turtles. After that the two we had been observing hid from us, and I really I don't blame them at all.

a long, long time ago, I can still remember...

Many times now, I have promised a back-dated photojournal of our trip to Paris, London and on the QM2. Sadly, it has taken me 4 months to deliver, and now I'm copping out again. Truth be told, there's no point for me to write a long description of our trip and post all the pretty pictures because April already did all the work for me (and more eloquently than I could muster at the moment. So, if you're still interested in the trip from last May and June, please refer to the following, excellent and thorough, entries in April's blog:

* Six Days in Paris, Part 1
* Visiting Paris Part Two: A Marathon First Day
* Museums and Monuments
* Shopping and Spelunking
* From Railway Stations to Palaces

See also, her shorter post about the QM2.
How's that for a well-executed cop-out?

soapbox

I have been negligent in posting, I know. There is no excuse. But rest assured that attending to my lost and lonely blog is one of many things on my to do list. For now, I have a political message, commentary made by Keith Olbermann on MSNBC. You can read and watch it on their webpage. It is brilliant:

The Beginning of the End of America

Now back to your regularily scheduled programming.