bear

Facebook memories, both mine and my friends', smacking me in the face this morning reminding us that it has been THIRTY YEARS TODAY since The X-Files debuted on network television. A show that Julie and Elaina had to persuade me to watch because I was definitely a child of shiny optimistic future sci-fi shows at that point (*cough* Star Trek: TNG), unsure about the creepier-looking horror-type elements in the preview.

The three of us sitting in the common room, chowing down on Ben and Jerry's, feeling the tension rise as Mulder checked Scully's back for unexplainable puncture wounds, then relax as they proved to be mosquito bites. Relief that Mr. Stockdale didn't walk into the common room until after that scene, because otherwise he probably would've made us turn it off, seeing a woman onscreen in mostly just her underwear with zero context. (Little would any of us know how paltry an amount of emotional/romantic/sexual payoff the show would provide us over its run - at the very least until we were all well over the age of majority! - certainly nothing Mr. Stockdale had to worry about impressionable teenagers consuming, ahahaha!) Me, afterwards, still unsure of the scarier bits but intrigued by the characters, now with a new Friday night routine: grocery shopping, then running from the bus to claim the common room for our show.

That a TV show would lead to me meeting so many people through what we were then referring to in vaguely-near-futuristic terms such as "the world wide web," still in the realm of fantasy for all but the earliest of adopters - beyond my ability to conceive at that point. But I would go off to college a few years down the road. Lose track of XF for the fall of my freshman year in the excitement of making new friends, being in my first romantic relationship ever. My roommate Shay would bring a TV back from the winter holiday break, and we would be flipping through the channels with Ingrid one night, sitting on Shay's bed, and discover that Friday had become Sunday. That Mulder and Scully were still out there, that the monster of the week ate cancer, and was going after Scully at the climax of the episode, and BOOM I was sucked back in.

Later that night, I would go on Yahoo! Search, and my search queries would lead me to a weekly post-episode chat and mailing list where people were discussing not only the plot twists, but the character relationships. The above-mentioned romantic relationship I was in would fall apart the same week (blessing barely in disguise); the people I met through that chat became friends for life, providing perspectives of life outside the college bubble when it all became too much for me.

I would go to my first in-person meetup with them later that summer in Vancouver, run around X-Files filming sites, squealing in delight; it felt like summer camp for XF fans. Make it an annual gathering for a few years, whether in Vancouver again or DC or NYC (the weekend I graduated!) or Vegas. Watch friends fall in love because of this chat channel, even from across countries and oceans, move to be with each other. Their experiences eventually giving me the chutzpah to start dating somebody I'd basically met online myself (well, set up by a friend, "secretly but blatantly,"), years before most of my in-person friends did, and every time I would go visit him in DC and we'd take the Metro somewhere, I'd laugh, thinking of how me and my XF friends had belted out David Duchovny, Why Won't You Love Me? on the Orange Line from Metro Center all the way out to Ballston, and how I had met all of them partly because of this technology that barely existed when I was growing up, but also the motivation of connecting over what we loved.

Layers of nostalgia building on each other across a lifetime, connecting everything and everyone and making me smile, even if the results of ever trying to explain end up with "... that was not remotely what I was expecting to hear, and I love that a weirdo like you is in my life." That my Sunday night routine became running back to my dorm room with ladysisyphus after rehearsal so that we could watch XF together on the little 12" TV I'd hauled back to my dorm room on the bus from the mall, but I'd always hop onto chat afterwards. That eventually chat became LiveJournal, then Facebook, but the friendship ties remained.

And now, even after all these years, still keeping up with each others' lives. Still having them over for dinner on our front porch. Still planning to get together the next time we're in each others' cities. (Still convinced we should've taken over XF and detangled everyone from the ridiculous, no-payoff "mytharc," even though that longer, not-limited-to-one-episode storytelling arc would become more prevalent over the following decades, and be done much, much better with other series.)

Still out there.

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. )

*

( Friday, San Francisco: the foodpocalypse continues. )

*

( 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!

0. People are talking about NaNoWriMo; my last 3 months I haven't been able to write anything longer than a tweet. What's up with that?

1. HI HI OMG I MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH HOW WERE YOUR SUMMERS?

( got married, moved (back) to Cambridge, the rest of my life since then )

Okay, that's enough of that. Basically, if you're curious about the last three months of my life, my Twitter is probably the best place to find out. Or my Facebook, but I feel like most of us are already friended there (and if not and you'd like to be, ping me in comments :) )

In the meantime, it's supposed to get into the 60s today, so I will probably head down to Mem Drive for a bike ride through the foliage, though unpacking and laundering the winter clothes will also be a priority.



hyounpark and I wandered out to Homecoming yesterday. Didn't get a lot of the food we'd normally eat on a Pioneer Valley Food Run, but we did snag cider donuts from Atkins Farm and pizza from Antonio's. We don't really go for the football; I go more for the people and the music, and yesterday was full of that.

- gave advice to a few earnest and overwhelmed '13s (class of '13, wtf, when did we get so old?!)
- hung out with an adorable 19-month-old for dinner (babies grow crazy fast, and love things that let them make a mess, I'm just sayin':



- shortened but high-energy Choral Society concert was one of the best I've been to in years. I recognized at least one song from each group (and was bouncing in my seat mouthing along to it, I'm looking at you, Izatate Ikusabitoyo Glee Club boys' marching song), throwing candy at the student conductor is always fun, and we got to show off our bling to the person whose fault it is we even met in the first place (Mallorie, our beloved choral director; steered me towards the small-group Madrigals singers my junior year, where I actually met hyounpark).

Why I am now standing at the stove instead of watching the game:

Bottom of the 7th: I'm making peach chutney. I've set a timer. Mighty Mite at the plate, men on first and third. Petey gets a nice single into left and drives in a run. The timer goes off. Papi takes a strike. I have to go rescue my chutney before it burns. I walk to the stove, and as soon as I pick up my spatula, hyounpark is all, "DEEP RIGHT! DEEP RIGHT!" Papi hit a homer!

Bottom of the 8th: The chutney has cooled. I go back up to the stove to pack it up. JD Drew hits a homer!

UM YOU GUYS I'M NOT THAT SUPERSTITIOUS BUT, BUT, BUT.

AND THEN COCO CRISP DROVE KOTSAY IN WHEN I WENT TO STIR THE CHOCOLATE POT DE CREME OMFG

*

( hungry mother is YUM OMG )

*

( you spoony bard, or why I am always the little spoon )

Still alive! The South may be trying to kill me with cholesterol, but I'm still tickin'. ;) It's been a much-needed, relaxing, nearly responsibility-free vacation.

Tuesday: Arrived chez Park. Ate a wide assortment of Korean food. Napped frequently.

Wednesday: ( sliders, Crystalis, and multicultural appropriation in a Southern grocery store. Of which I highly approve and am vastly amused, being one of them crazy blended peoples and all ;) )

Thursday: Feast! Turkey, natch, with yummy gravy (at which Hyoun's mom kicks ass; must learn from the master) and cranberry-Asian pear chutney; apricot-chestnut stuffing, garlic mashers, candied sweet potatoes, cider-roasted veggies (carrots, parsnips, zucchini, shiitake mushrooms), buttered corn, pan de sal, sesame green beans, spinach salad with goat cheese and candied pecans and blueberry vinaigrette dressing; strawberry-rhubarb pie for dessert. And of course, more Crystalis. ;) And Bubble Bobble!

Friday: ( fannish references in an art museum, awesome pizza, deep-fried Oreos. )

Saturday: ( the Smoky Mountains, farmers' market natch, Biltmore Estate, wherein I have to cut myself off at a WINE TASTING, and seeing Emily and Ben! )

Today: it's off to the Smokies again for a wee bit of hiking, plus barbecue for Hyoun and steak for Jane. Plus finishing Crystalis when we get back for me!

Happy belated birthday, azurelunatic and nostrademons!

Last week was the week of visiting babies (Aaron and Liane's, idonotlikepeas and girlgonemad). This week is the week of handfastings and houseguests, with a visiting elemmire7 through Thursday, the Scooperbowl and assorted festivities (tagged after the fact to preserve pseudo-elopement surprise, congrats to the two involved!), and ending Sunday chez jpallan and crschmidt's. Busy busy!

However, I must note that Andrew is in trouble *grin*. Even though I haven't talked to him in awhile now. Because the summer of the year we were dating, I went out to visit him in Kenosha. Twice. And somehow, he failed to inform me about the Mars Cheese Castle. I had to learn about it from hyounpark and elemmire7 tonight! We were talking about weddings and what one considers important at them, and how the people who own Cabot Cheese spent most of their money on flowers at their wedding. I think I made a remark of, "Geez, I think I'd spend that money on, well, cheese!" and that's how it came up.

But the important part is THERE IS A CHEESE CASTLE AND MY EX-BOYFRIEND WHO LIVED IN THAT TOWN FAILED TO TAKE ME THERE WHEN I VISITED. TWICE. He loses at teh Käsenets.

8/3/19: Admittedly, hyounpark and I ended up skipping the Mars Cheese Castle on our way through Wisconsin when we were making our cross-country drive, choosing to check out the Dane County Farmers' Market in Madison instead, given our limited time. But we bought plenty of cheese at Fromagination and ate all the meats at the Old Fashioned and belted out solidarity songs in the Capitol for kudzita, so that mostly made up for it.

Five years ago, just before 9 am, I puttered off to the bath; it was a hot September Tuesday morning and I didn't have to be at work until 10. I'd been chatting with theducks and kudzita and several others since the sun had woken me earlier, golden dawnlight through my window warming the walls and drawing me out of bed hours before I had to be at work.

( that day, content warning for everything 9/11 )

I went back to work later that week; I joined a choir again a few weeks later. I sang at various memorials; at one of them, I got a phone number on a napkin from a boy for the first time ever. If anything, I travelled more that winter, spending time with those I loved in faraway places. I went down to New Haven, twice. I went home for Christmas, then up to Portland and Seattle to visit West Coast friends, and rang in the new year in Vancouver chez pukajen; on the way home, we stopped at a steakhouse, and thanks to prime_meridian and ascian3 and sleipnir, I finally understood what delicious steak could be. I started a long-distance relationship with a guy in DC thanks to geebee_x, and flew into National multiple times, becoming quite familiar with the DC flight restrictions; he actually made the first visit, on a chilly January winter weekend; returned for Valentine's Day a few weeks later; continued to come see me. All of us seeking connection with those we loved; all of us freshly reminded how fragile it all was. And at the end of that winter, I visited danialindenberg in New York (with Ingrid and Angie and Marvin), and we met up with Michelle and Peter and went down to Ground Zero to pay our respects, and for the first time, I stood at the base of the Towers-That-Were, and gazed up into the sky, following the shafts of blue light as they trailed high into the clouds, imagining what could have been.

so coworker l comes by to let us know there's an ice cream bar in the courtyard. and we're down five-zip to the ROYALS. so i go outside, sit back in the sun with a bowl of ice cream, and enjoy the sunshine.

and then i come back in and varitek's hit his first grand slam ever and we're up 9-5.

clearly, this is a mandate from god that i have to eat ice cream whenever the sox are losing. (bitty, you're still not allowed to watch them, though. ;) )

( wedding babbling, as if you couldn't guess. :) )

i have awesome friends, and i am so very lucky to have them.

sticky, peeling-off dresses; wet sand underneath our feet slapping towards the sea; mingling aromas of salt air and bonfires. the satin-black sky shimmers as the occasional firework streaks up and out.

we've just come from an elegant dinner: clean-cut genteel young waiters we could probably set up our baby sisters with, candlelight and picture-window views of york harbor, creamy lobster bisque and blueberry pie that melts in your mouth.

now, casting off any semblance of demure behavior, we run playfully towards the cool atlantic waters in the twilight, skirts hiked up, sandals cast aside.

it's not a waltz as recognized by our chichi fellow diners, but we dance anyway.



later, we will get lost in rural northeastern massachusetts, on a road that could only be transplanted from rural northwestern america. the walls of trees stretch infinitely upward, tall and black, bowing slightly inward to hide the sky beyond. the road curves darkly, desolately, with no turnoff for miles and miles.

(and we got lost because? we were distracted enough talking about harry potter that we failed to notice the swiftly-dipping gas needle. hee!)

eventually, we turn around, and after a series of rotaries and multiple right-turns, we find civilization in the form of a service station for our nearly-empty gas tank. and it's there that we have an Idea: what better way to cap off a night about america than to introduce one of my friends to the ultimate in pop-culture indulgence? a glance at the map, a quick calculation of exit numbers and one-ways, and we're in motion again.

gooey fingers as we pinch off bits of a krispy kreme fresh off the line. white creme daubs on unwary cheeks and giggling like middle school students. milk moustaches just like the ones in the commercials.

@--<--

happy birthday, laurel!