bear

Sorry I confused people with some of my posts this week! I'm currently going back and integrating old posts from various other dying blog hosts/social media into my Dreamwidth so that they're all in one stable place. I didn't realize they were showing up in the contemporary feed on reading pages, though :( Have found the tickeh that needs checking now to prevent that, though, and will do so going forward.

A more general life update - we're coming up on four years in the Bay Area. We've survived the pandemic thus far through whatever combination of vaxxing and masking have brought us, along with I'm sure a decent helping of luck; even our more careful friends and family are more likely than not to have gone through a bout, it seems. We're lucky being outdoors is a good social option for us most of the year. We still need to buy some patio furniture to facilitate this, though; right now, we have two random chairs on our porch and that's the grand sum of our outdoor seating for grownups.

( choir! )

( biking! being social! )

I miss late night bookstore dates, though. Our closest indie bookstore (about a 45 minute walk away, or 15 minutes on an infrequent daytime only bus, but not easy to get to on my geared-for-the-flats-of-Boston three-speed) closes at 6 pm, and others near-ish-by not much later than that. San Francisco understands bookstores as nightlife a little better, particularly once you get out of downtown and into the more human-scale neighborhoods, with more bookstores closing at 8, 9, 10 pm, but. I miss Harvard Books, even though I could only make it to 9 pm when I was there in June. Aging, man.

What belongs on a Boston bucket list? Like, despite having lived here for nearly two decades, I have still never walked the Freedom Trail, even though living in Boston is what’s turned me into a walker, and a biker. But I’ve walked out to Castle Island, around Jamaica Pond, through the Middlesex Fells and the Blue Hills, down Comm Ave and up the Greenway, Mass Ave nearly end to end, through the Harvard campus more times than I can count (though I can still get lost at MIT), from downtown to Fenway Park on multiple game nights where I didn't feel like cramming myself into the sardine can known as the Green Line. I’ve navigated Somerville by specific Bathtub Marys, and greater Boston by specific Dunks. I've biked on Storrow Drive and out to Bedford on the Minuteman and pretty much most places in between; kayaked along the Charles, and swum in Walden Pond and the Mystic Lakes and the Res; ice skated on Frog Pond and under the lights of Kendall Square. And, well, fallen on my ass multiple times because black ice and long New England winters. Heh.

( a love letter to Boston because I'm a creature of nostalgia )

I've made my home in triple-decker Victorians, Federalist brick and brownstone, the top floor of a Queen Anne where H and I learned to dub birds "those CHIRP CHIRP MOTHERFUCKERS" because they would wake us up at 3 am in the summer, a duplex close enough to the Minuteman I could constantly watch our neighbors stream by on bikes, even on the couch of the Cambridgeport Commune for a couple of months. And now, after two decades in Boston, two dozen years in New England, and too many cubic yards of snow shoveled, our time here is drawing to a close; in August, we are moving to the Bay Area.



We'll still be (long) walking distance to the train; I'll still bike to local farmers' markets. I'll add more swimming to the mix; H will add more hills to his half-marathon training, but still be able to run on a bike path near our new place. I already have a spreadsheet entitled "Bay Area Farmers Markets and Independent Bookstores," and we have a plan to identify the best pizza places nearby so we can find our go-to as quickly as possible. We will miss all you locals dearly, but we will be back. Just not in, say, January. ;)

Bay Area friends, I'm sure I'll have questions for you about the practicalities of this new life we're trying out. For now, I'm looking forward to seeing more of you all starting in August!

And yep, we're driving across. 90 most of the way, then detouring a bit to avoid the worst heat of Nevada in summer the best we can. (Neither of us are Burning Man candidates, I'm afraid. :) ) Highlights we hope to hit: Cedar Point, the Dane County Farmers' Market, Yellowstone; other things TBD, hopefully many of them kitschy, delicious, and/or beautiful. Any recs from those of you who've done this before? We'll have most of two weeks to do this.

Who's ready for #independentbookstoreday2016? MEEEEE.

Today's pannier load: bagels and books. (Right: @bagelsaurus13; Left: @chef_keller.)

I didn't think I was going to San Francisco last week after all because of moving and the hurricane. But MAGIC HAPPENED, and thanks to the talents and persistence of the hyounpark travel agency and our Bluepasses, my flight got booked Tuesday night, and 24 hours later I was ON A PLANE.

First stop: Udupi Palace for pineapple uttapam with high school friend Karen, my brother, and his college friend Ian.



We're talking cafeteria-size trays here. Enough that we all walked out with leftovers, and then a homeless guy asked us for spare change; we asked him if he was hungry, and he walked away with at least a day's worth of food for himself.

( Thursday, Bay Area: wherein I eat like a hobbit; what the ocean tastes like; a wide-eyed baby who likes watermelon sorbet. Korean barbecue. Sweets up the wazoo. )

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( Friday, San Francisco: the foodpocalypse continues. )

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( Repacked Saturday, and then skipped down to DC Sunday morning. Rockets, cupcakes, the meaty meat platter, the best burger Hyoun has ever had, and Vermont sugar on snow. )

So yeah, that's how I spent four days in a row in airports. ;) Thanks, Bluepass! Now to figure out where we're going this weekend ... we'd originally thought Pittsburgh, but that may get pushed back to next weekend, and we may do Chicago instead. We'll see!

Thursday:

"Never forget," they say, and every year, the voices shouting that catchphrase get more and more shrill, as if we could forget what we saw, and who we worried for.

Seven years and one day ago, she wrote about seeing a rainbow from her office window near the top of the World Trade Center. Seven years ago, it was so bright out it hurt my eyes, and I couldn't believe that such horrible things could be happening on such a beautiful day.

I take a quick ride down to the river; it's grey and cool, and it helps.

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Tuesday

It rained for most of our trip to Vancouver last month, yet I spent three days out of four there riding around town on a rented bicycle. Pedaling around Stanley Park, hefting my bike onto the miniferry, getting lost in Upper Kits, losing track of time and having to pedal the fastest I've ever gone in order to get the bike back before the shop closed. Me, flying up the seawall, a steady drizzle trickling its way down my neck, joyful.

( Turns out this was good prep for my inaugural bike ride across the river into Boston proper. )

Friday

I want more of my days to be this full of magical discovery.

Biking up the Minuteman Trail to pick up a bridal shower present for melissaagray in Arlington Heights, my longest ride to date. Splashing through puddles, grateful for my fenders, even if I am thinking of spray-painting them to coordinate with my shiny blue thing. (Horrified at the man I followed from Park Ave down to Arlington Center; I now understand exactly what kind of wetness pattern bike fenders prevent on your clothing, and why it looks especially gross on a mustard-yellow shirt.)

Coasting down through Davis Square, dismounting to make the turn on Elm Street towards home, when I look up at the Somerville Theatre marquee and notice that ( Dar Williams and Shawn Mullins are playing that night. )

Saturday

Pedaling as fast as I can down the Mem Drive bike path towards Watertown. Quickchange into dress too delicate for that ride, then another hour in the car with fes42 out to the Wistah suburbs. Sitting in melissaagray's sister's living room, looking around at everyone who's come to fête her, realizing I've known most of these people for five years or more now. Biking back, a serendipitous turn down Mount Auburn results in me following my nose and the tempting scent of meat to Harvard Books and Bartley's; three used Tamora Pierce books, a chocolate egg cream, and a Sarah Palin (grilled onions and cheese sauce; sadly, not a mooseburger) make the trip home with me.

I've done three long rides this week, every one of them an adventure. Tonight, I'll bike down to BU for class again, and hopefully a quick dinner afterwards with a friend. Sunday, I'll go 10 miles at Hub on Wheels (any other locals wanna bike on Storrow Drive with me? and eat Redbones afterwards? :D ).

This is what life on two wheels is like.

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(I need a good biking icon. Where should I look?)

happy belated birthday, chrisg! (and at the rate i'm posting these days, might as well say happy early birthday, noghri!)

it's finally gotten warm enough again here that i'm not minding walking. it's downright gorgeous out tonight, and i'm half-debating walking to choir, except i dislike the construction zone of lower mass ave. maybe i'll compromise; walk down to central and take the 1 across the river instead, then walk to choir from hynes. i forgot to get my t-pass this month, so for the most part, i've been trying to walk places where normally i would've been trying to figure out some complex route to maximize the use of my t-pass and minimize the freezing of my ears and fingers.

i keep forgetting that yes, davis and central squares really are within normal walking distance once the temperature's reasonably above freezing. so i end up at someday cafe with my laptop and live the cliche my way - nestled into a cozy corner, laptop open to IRC, peoplewatching the hipsters with my accomplice the mint italian soda. i cut corners and realize that the harvard bookstore is a 15-minute walk from my front door when there's no ice to slip on. i stroll down to the new branch of petsi pies to meet up with nolrak and alissa as they meander up mass ave.

my choir friend polina and i rarely see each other outside of choir, despite living mere blocks away from each other. (this happens with elements and berkman, too, and should change!) but in the past week, i've run into her three separate times just walking down the street. i like this community feel.

i'm counting down to the farmers' markets opening again in the last week of may. i'm looking at weekends to host that first summer barbecue to sort-of celebrate my half birthday (june 4 i have a concert; june 11 i'll either be singing in fenway park or driving up the california coast; june 18 is a little too close to hyounpark's birthday and our anniversary. so i'm debating either moving it back to memorial day weekend or forward to the fourth of july.)

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( baseball! )

there are six red roses sitting on my counter and leftovers from a yummy dinner last night sitting in my fridge. (stars of said dinner included cornmeal-fried oysters with apple-bacon salsa and a goat cheese fondue; littleneck clams with mixed greens, bacon, and parm; an awesome salad with pecans and dried cherries; beef tenderloin in an orange bearnaise sauce; "duck duck goose," a dish that had duck confit, seared duck foie gras, and goose breast. desserts were a chocolate-banana bread pudding and this amazing clementine-basil sorbet that i've determined i *must* duplicate. coincidentally, i have a box of clemmies and several of my friends have ice-cream-makers. hee. :D )

six months. love you. :*

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( rec me your best-loved books this year! )

Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.

- Mark Strand, The Coming of Light

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( christmas day movies? followed by chinese food? )

6/29/23: oh, late 2002 self. I wish you could see just a *little* further down the road. if not to here, at least to fall 2003, but. my heart aches for all that you're going through, but it's what leads you to here, and things do get better. different, yes, but better.