Another New York moment

I wrote most of this last week, but didn't have a chance to finish. It seems anticlimactic to write about now, but here you go:


Last Wednesday night, a little before 6 pm, I was at work. T.S. (I just read that he also blogged about the experience on his blog) had just come over and we were talking about when to have our belated birthday Karaoke celebration. All of a sudden there was a crash, like loud thunder, and our lights dimmed for a second and I heard people gasp. I didn't think too much of it, as it had been thunderstorming all day. But then there came a low rumbling, like thunder. We paused for a moment, then kept talking, but the noise didn't stop. It was unsettling. "What IS that? Is that thunder? What IS that?" I kept asking. T.S. started walking away and then back to the window. We couldn't see anything. "You're freaking me out. That noise is freaking me out" T.S. said. I heard someone mention a fire in the building next door, smoke visible from their window. I couldn't see anything. Then our fire alarm started sounding. Connie stood up. "That's it, I'm leaving!" The fire safety director announced that there was a fire alarm on the third floor, and to stand by. People started gathering up their stuff. I went back and forth between my desk and the hallway, undecided. It was probably nothing. But what if it was something. Should I take my bag? Should I turn off my computer? I had just heated up some pasta, and the bowl of unfinished pasta was sitting on my desk. Should I go wash it out?

We looked down the hallway and A was gathering everyone up telling them to go to the emergency stairs. I grabbed my bag. "There was a lot a smoke" L said worriedly. We stood waiting for an announcement. "You should start walking down the stairs" C said, to A, who is over 8 months pregnant. That's when I started thinking, A is pregnant. M has two kids at home. L's fiance is a fire fighter. What if this is something big. What's going on?

We looked into the stairwell, and there were people going down the stairs. "Did someone tell you to go down, or did you just decide on your own?" A asked. They had just decided on their own. "We should go down" C said. "But they said the alarm was on the 3rd floor, what if we're walking into a fire?" A asked.

We pondered that and waited a little more. Then someone made the decision that we should start going down. For some reason, at that moment I decided to go back to my desk for my umbrella and galoshes, and by the time I started down the stairs, probably 2 minutes later, everyone was gone. I saw a few people I knew in the lobby, but wandered around a bit aimlessly, looking for my department but not seeing anyone. I realized I had a voicemail on my phone and tried to call. It took a few tries, but I eventually got through. It was from my roommate Rose.

"I'm on the bus right now and someone said there was an explosion in your neighborhood. I'm calling everyone I know who works in that area to see if they're okay."

I decided to go outside. People were milling around all over the place. "Someone must know what's going on." one woman said to another. They saw me with my cell phone. "Do you know what's going on?" they asked me. "I don't know...my roommate said there was an explosion..." I wandered to Lexington Ave, thinking I would just walk home and turn on the news, and then I saw it. Billowing white smoke, and a lot of it. Everyone was on the street, watching. On their cell phones, taking pictures. I took a few pictures, too.

I stood there for a while, unsure of what to do. Nobody seemed to be panicking. Just curious. But everyone was on their cell phones, but none of my calls were getting through at this point, just like during the blackout. I overheard a woman talking about a manhole cover, another mentioned a steam pipe, another mentioned a transformer.

I had a kickball game scheduled for later that night on 137th and Riverside. I wondered if it would still be going on. Was the whole city in chaos? Should I just go up there? I amazingly got through to Meghan who was planning on playing kickball with us that night. "Where are you?" I asked. "I'm stuck in traffic in my car..." "Are you still planning to go up to the park for kickball?" "Well, I was planning on it." "Let me try to call my teammates and see if the game is still on." I had the thought: I would feel weird playing kickball if a serious tragedy had just occurred. I decided to call my parents. I figured I could get through more easily to them since they were in CA. I got through to my dad. "Dad, there was an explosion near my work and a lot of smoke...can you look on the news and let me know what's going on?" He checked the internet first, nothing. Then CNN on the TV. Nothing. "Oh well, you're safe, right?" he said. I was. "I love you!" we said. I tried calling my friend Alexis, who was also co-captain of our kickball game. "Do you know what's going on?" I asked "Well, the game is still on, I don't think it's going to rain." "No, I mean, what's going on with the city?" "What do you mean?" I told her about the explosion, the smoke. "No, I'm here in Times Square eating dumplings. Didn't know about any of that! Although I did hear a bunch of sirens."

I decided that if the West side of Manhattan was oblivious, things overall were probably fine. My dad called back "It was a steam pipe explosion." He read me an article on CNN. He paused. "So, it's not terrorists. You're okay." It didn't occur to me exactly that I needed to hear that. I didn't really think it was terrorists. But still.

And so I walked over the Columbus Circle to catch the train. The day ended normally, with a kickball game (we lost, yet again), and happy hour drinks. The next morning, the streets on the way to work were emptier than usual, but by the following day, for the most part, everything seemed back to normal.

Just another NY story.

Another unsettling NY experience

My last post reminded me of something else that happened a month ago or so.

I had been at a friend's apartment in Brooklyn for poker night, and as I was walking down Smith street to the subway afterwards, probably around midnight, I witnessed a violent fight outside one of the bars on that street. A vagrant-type person was yelling, threw a guy down on the sidewalk, while two or three woman protested and yelled at him to stop. The man hit the guy on the ground in the head with something--it looked like maybe he was holding a plastic grocery bag, but something else, too. Something harder and bulky. I was on the same side of the street, and so stopped and backed away a bit. The violent man got up and was coming towards me and I saw what looked to be a drill?!?! in his hand. I stepped to the side onto the street and let him pass me, and then I walked around the group to continue on my way to the subway. The guy on the ground was up and looking dazed, holding the side of his head with his hand. He seemed to be okay, just in shock, and I heard a woman ask if she should call the cops. Then they all went into the bar.

Isn't that crazy? It was definitely an unsettling experience at the time, but once again, I completely put it behind me that night. It's startling and scary to witness violence in person, but at the same time, I think New York and the media has desensitized me to it all. Nothing surprises me in this city anymore. It's like that commercial where all of these crazy and horrible things are happening on the streets of Manhattan, and none of the pedestrians even bat an eye. It's so true.

Asian women and gay men. What would you have done?

Last week after playing darts with coworkers, some of my group started hankering for Karaoke. We decided to go to Lucky Cheng's, which is dubbed "The Drag Queen Capital of the World." I had never been there before, but had heard good things about it. We walk in, and they haven't started Karaoke yet, and as we're waiting in the lobby area, one of the "ladyboy" hostesses looks at my coworker J and says, "You look familiar--don't I know you from somewhere?" which embarrasses him because this is the second time he's been out with coworkers where he's been mistaken as being gay. Then "she" looks at me and says, "Is this your boyfriend?" and we both say NO but she continues and says, "Because you know what they say about men who date Asian women..." and I sigh and nod and say, "Yes, I know what they say, but I find it insulting."

What I know she's getting at is that some people say that many gay men who are perhaps still in the closet date Asian women to cover up for the fact that they're gay. I know this because I had an incident with a gay friend of mine a few years ago--he made an offhand remark to another friend about how he thought my boyfriend at the time was gay because he was dating me. Needless to say, I had a talk with that friend. And then recently other friends have brought up the book Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides which I own but have not yet read. Apparently, there's as passage in the book where he talks about this "phenomenon" as well. I have no idea if it is based at all in reality. And I'm not quite sure what the reasoning would be for this, perhaps that Asian women are seen as being "exotic" and desirable, so that if a man is seen with an Asian woman, then people will assume that they must be having sex with them. But this is just my guess.

So, as I said, I said to "her" that I found that generalization offensive, but she is oblivious to my protests and is putting on a show, has her whole routine going, and starts strutting around saying, "They walk around in Chelsea with an Asian woman on their arm, saying 'Look at me...I'm not gay! I have an Asian girlfriend!'" and she goes on and on, and I keep saying, "I find that offensive" but it falls on deaf ears and at one point she says, "And the Asian woman is okay with it, because she passive." And finally, what for me was the final straw, she says, "And the Asian girl is happy with it because she gets to say, 'Look at me, I'm with a white guy!'"

Argh. It's at this point I turn to my friends and say loudly, "Let's go somewhere else" and so we all leave. I don't look back.

Anyway, I managed to completely put the incident behind me that night, but the next morning I woke up for no reason at 5 am, remembered what happened, and got extremely angry.

The hostess happened to be black, which doesn't play a role in the incident at all, except for the fact that it frustrates me even more when one minority group is racist towards another. The fact that "she" belonged to two disenfranchised groups made the whole incident even more frustrating.

I keep wondering if I should have done more than just walk out, if in fact I was being passive in my reaction and actions. What do you think? What would you have done in my situation?

The Adventures of Alvina and the Airport

I know it's crazy, but I think I forgot that it was the holiday season. I forgot why I went to so many parties these past two weeks, why I was eating so many fattening goodies, receiving holiday cards, I think I forgot why I was flying home. I must have, because that's the only explanation I can think of for my brain freeze.

Yesterday was my last day in the office, and I was flying out of Newark to Los Angeles at 7:35 pm. All fine and dandy, I've taken the NJTransit to the airport plenty of times. I checked the train schedule and saw that the 6:11 pm train got me to the airport by 6:38, which was a little less than an hour before my flight. Good enough, right? But since I had the check luggage due to the whole "no liquids" thing, I thought I'd play it safe and definitely try for an earlier train. In my mind, told myself I'd leave the office at 5:45 at the latest.

5:30 pm: I've happily finished an editorial letter I've been meaning to send for over 3 weeks now. It was looking like it might not happen before the holidays, but I felt good that it was done, that despite my lack of motivation this past week, I had accomplished something.

5:35 pm: Changing my outgoing message, setting my out-of-office email message, pleased that I'm doing this all in advance. Sorting through old emails...

5:38 pm: Suddenly realize that I'm planning on leaving at 5:45 pm to catch a 7:30 pm flight in Newark. That can't be right! What am I thinking?! Plus I need to pick up a prescription before I leave. I grab my stuff, yell "Bye" to my assistant and a few other people as I rush down the hallway.

5: 41 pm: I interrupt an old man talking to the cashier at Duane Reade. She is thankful for the interruption.

5:44 pm: I run onto the D train

5:55 pm: While running down 34th Street towards Penn Station, I answer a call from my best friend and gasp, "I'll call you back! I'm trying desperately to catch my train! I mean bus! I mean plane! Ahh!!"

6:01 pm: I look at a sea of people with suitcases trying to cram onto the 6:03 train to Newark airport. Sh*t. It is ONLY NOW that I remember that it is the holiday season. Holiday travel. Long lines. I look at the line, decide I won't make it on and might as well save some money to buy a ticket in advance for the next train. I look at both the super-long ticket machine line and just-as-long ticket counter line, and get in the ticket counter line. By this time, I'm sweating profusely. I take off two layers.

6:08 pm: Get my ticket, am told to go to gate 13 NOW and run. There's another sea of people trying to get into the tunnel to board. In my experience, I know there's an entrance on the other side, and once again, I RUN.

6:11 pm: Am on train, still sweating. Cram my suitcase into a little nook and settle in. Peel off another layer. My T-shirt is drenched. I feel sorry for the people around me. Will I make it? Will I make it?

6:13ish? Train departs. I decide not to look at the time any more. I'm trying to be zen. I can't control how fast the train goes. What's the worst that can happen? I miss my flight and have to go standby during the holiday season. Have the shlep from the Upper East Side to Newark. Augh. But it could be worse, I could be flying through Denver. I'm feeling pessimistic at this point. Picturing the long airport check-in and security lines. Hope that people will be calling certain flights up to the front. Wondering how I can face my mother when I call to tell her I've missed my flight. I had missed my connection during my last trip to LA--that time was not my fault, but still, this is not the kind of person I am. I'm responsible. I don't miss flights. Then again, I wonder how many times I have to miss flights before I become the type of person that misses flights.

6:40ish? Get off the train, run toward the Airtrain. For some inexplicable reason, the only escalator is going down, so I join the rest of the people and lug my suitcase and bag up three flights of stairs. Only slightly out of breath at the top--thank goodness for the marathon. Run and get on the Airtrain. Still haven't checked the time. It's out of my control, I'm just going to go as fast as I can.

Exit at Terminal C. I see a clock as I run. 6:46 pm.

Long snaking lines to check in. Damn that liquid bomb threat! I never used to check luggage. Should I toss out my liquids and check in electronically? Do I even have time for that? But I need my lotions, I need my contact solution, my prescription toothpaste, my shampoo. I get in line, looking for someone I can plead my case with. Commiserate with the woman behind me whose flight was scheduled to leave at 7:05, but was delayed 55 minutes. She isn't sure if she's too late to check in. The man she's with is looking into it. I'm kicking myself most because I know it's all my fault. The trains all lined up for me, I am not unlucky; I'm just an idiot.

I have about 15 minutes to make it to the front of the line. Will I make it? Should I be an aggressive bitch and cut in line? 5 minutes later, I've gone one row in the 4-row snake. Doesn't look good.

And then, from the heavens, I am saved.

"blah blah blah...Skycab...no lines..." says an announcement.

"Skycab!" the woman says.

"Holy sh*t!!" I'm off again, trying to beat all the other desperate passengers who heard the same thing. Out the doors, into a line, I'm second in line! Look at my cellphone. 7 pm. I have 5 minutes before the 30-minute check-in cut-off. Have I actually made it? I'm am so happy for the Skycab. I am so happy I'm not one of the desperate passengers behind me offering to bribe the Skycab to check her in.

7:02 pm. 3 minutes to spare! I'm handing the kind man a $5 tip to take care of my tiny rolling suitcase, and am running for security, praying that my luggage makes it on, too.

7:05pm: After going to two different wrong security lines, they push me through the shorter line.

7:10: I'm through! It's at this point that I realize I've made it. I stop to pee. I stop to buy a banana. I stroll up to my gate--there are still a few people boarding, but it looks pretty empty. I cram the rest of the banana in my mouth, throw away the peel, and get in line just as they announce the final boarding call and the standby passengers for the flight.

I'm tempted to high five the flight attendants and yell gleefully, I MADE IT! An overwhelming gratefulness and peace comes over me. Disaster averted.

7:15 pm. I'm seated at the window seat. I hope I don't smell too bad. The plane is hot.

7:25 pm: An announcement--all passengers are on board, but not the luggage, and they aren't going anywhere without the luggage. I look out the window and watch as they load the bags, and hey, there's mine! It made it on, life is good.

A brief thought goes through my mind--what if this plane crashes? I rushed to make a flight that resulted in my death. I shake the thought from my mind.

It was exciting, it was an adventure. It's the ol' "It's the hard that makes it great" line. And you know what? Fine, the marathon was great. All the drama with relationships will make it great when I find the right person. Actually making it on the flight was great. But I'm tired of hard for now. I'll settle for "fine" and "good" for a while. Give me easy for a bit, please.

iTunes and hipster parents

Two weeks ago, on December 7, I received an email to my gmail account telling me that I received a $25 gift certificate to iTunes from ?. I suspected that it was spam and was also enundated with emails at the time and didn't examine it further. But a week later I remembered it, brought it up, and it seemed legit--the email was from apple.com. I decided to open it at work in case it contained a virus, but there were no attachments, just links, and it worked through iTunes. So now I have a $25 credit and have no idea who (from whom?) it's from. Is it from someone I know? They had to have had my email address to give it to me, I think. Was it just a random act of kindness? Will someone step forward to claim responsibility at a later date? Was it an early Christmas present?

At any rate, if the anonymous donor is reading this, thank you very much for your generous gift, I greatly appreciate it. I haven't yet purchased any new songs, but I hope to soon.


And the second thing is my friend Chris wrote this article about hipster parents and musical taste that I liked. And yes, the picture bears a remarkable resemblance to him.

Congratulations to Yul and random happenings

My man Yul won $1,000,000. He actually won. He won Survivor. How crazy and great is that? He played the game extremely well, and there's a great video on cbs.com where he talks about how the game went down--he made the comment that the game could have very well come down to the white alliance picking off the minorities one by one, but they managed to get one of them to flop, and that completely changed the outcome of the game. That certainly was the turning point. He also talked about what he was going to do with the money, and one cause he said he was passionate about was minority bone marrow awareness because of a friend who died in college from leukemia because he couldn't find a match. As a side note, Justina Chen Headley's next novel Girl Overboard coming out in January 2008 also addresses this issue--one of the main character's friend's younger sister, who is hapa, is unable to find a bone marrow match because she's biracial.

Our mutual friend James's birthday is today. I wonder if he'll get a nice present.

********

Last night I went out with my roommate Rose for happy hour drinks in the 'hood. We were planning to just hit our regular spots a half a block away from our apartment (although places I haven't been in over a year!). We walked by the Banshee which was empty, went back to Session 73 which was closed for a private party, and then back to Stir, a martini bar I had gone to only once before with Tracy when I first moved to the apartment. We had two drinks before moving on, and decided to check out Session 73 again--no doubt there would be people there completely drunk from their office holiday party, and that should be good for a laugh. Was it ever. We walked in, and saw one guy dancing alone crazily on the dance floor. All other eyes were on us. We made a beeline to the bar for a drink, and immediately I turned around and there was a big guy standing behind me with glassy eyes. Just standing there, not speaking. He came up and stood right between Rose and me, but wasn't saying anything. "Uh...hi." we said. No answer. A grunt. Then he sat down on the stool that Rose was standing right behind, so it looked like he was sitting on her lap. I couldn't stop giggling and had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom. Sorry, Rose. When I got back, thankfully he was gone, but there would be more of the same. Turns out it was a hedge fund office party. And every time a guy started talking to us, a girl would come up and swoop them away. Haha--I guess I would have done the same with my guy coworkers--you can't help but feel protective/possessive. One guy--really, really drunk and still drinking Long Island Ice Teas--kept talking to me, but couldn't remember things I had said from ten seconds ago.

"Oh...so...you're a student."
"No, I just told you I was a children's book editor"
"So...where do you go to school?"

and then

"So, do you want to walk me home?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Uh, because I live half a block away from here."
"Can I walk you home?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm here with my roommate, and we'll walk each other home."

and a little later,

"Our company makes billions of dollars. I made a billion and a half this year. I could buy you some lloiud vitoiuoid"
"Uh, what?"
"I could buy you some Looouuuiiee Viiitoooon"
"I'm sorry, I can't understand what you're saying"

I finally realized he was telling me that he would buy me some Louis Vuitton. Uh, okay. "I don't care about labels" I said. I mean, I had to google it to figure out how to spell it, for pete's sake.

Anyway, I hadn't gone out like that in a loooong time, talking to random guys at bars, getting hit on, and it was fun and entertaining, especially knowing that nothing would come of any of it.


************************

In other news, besides having a weekend full of fun parties, the Randoms, and other friends both new and old, I finally received my refund from the MTA today. A month or so ago I tried buying a $20 Metrocard and it took my money and also ate my card that had just $1 on it (leftover from trips to NJ or on the Airtrain or something). I followed the directions on the customer service line, and finally today received two letters and a Metrocard. One letter said that it was refunding my $20 to my credit card account, and the other said "enclosed please find a Metrocard with $1 on it." Great. Reminded me of when my old roommate Jon received a refund check from the IRS for ONE PENNY. $0.01. No kidding. Anyway, for some reason, the Metrocard I've been using also has and odd amount on it, so I have two Metrocards that I will have to use to go to NJ on two separate round-trip journeys, or separately for one leg of a JFK Airtrain trip--except of course I'm flying out of Newark this time.

Speaking of, I'm off on Thursday evening for Southern California where I'll be until the 29th, then back to the city for New Year's. No doubt I'll write more there, update my blog to beta, learn how to add links to the side of my blog, and figure out how to cause World Peace.

Happy Holidays everyone!

Answer to query and Blue Rose Girl weekend

I answered the query that someone asked in the comment section below over at the Blue Rose Girls blog this morning. Check it out here. Also, as a reminder, since I'm so inept at adding links to the right of my blog (maybe my brothers can help me out when I'm home for the holidays?), the Blue Rose Girls blog is where I post most of my children's book-related musings. As I've said before, I'm happy for people to read this blog, but if you haven't already discovered the BRG's blog, you should check it out now! (As you can see, I'm very good at putting links within my posts!)

I had a wonderful weekend going up to Providence on Saturday for the RISD alumni holiday sale where fellow BRGs Anna Alter, Meghan McCarthy, and Grace Lin were selling their books, prints, and crafts. Libby Koponen and Elaine Magliaro also came up/down (respectively) for dinner after the sale. Grace passed out more of her yummy cupcakes, and I stuffed myself on soup, pate, and seafood mac and cheese (delicious, but not as good as this).

Then it was down to CT to hang out with Libby: calming yet stimulating talks, great home cookin', tea with honey and milk. And then on Sunday we went for a wonderful 10-mile bike ride through town and along the beach. I saw one thing I'd never seen before in my life, although I've heard/read about it many times. I watched as a seagull beat its wings against the gusty wind going up and up with something big in its beak which I quickly realized was a clam, release it to the rocks below, successfuly shattering the shell, and then swoop down to eat the meat inside. It was pure nature at its finest, and I was delighted for a long time by it. Heck, I'm still delighted that I saw it. Seagulls are both frightening (Finding Nemo! Those eyes!) and fascinating. My parents had the book Jonathan Livingston Seagull around the house when I was growing up, and I loved reading it and looking at the pictures, and it made me want to fly. I loved watching the seagulls float in the wind, soar, dive. I told Libby then that I hoped to someday take flying lessons. I think I started thinking about it back when Linda had posted some flight and plane-related posts. Not quite the same as flying like a seagull, but I think I'd like it.

Here are a few pics.

Me and the official BRG lender bike:
Libby showing off her new scarf (made by Grace) and her beautiful blue bike:
And the sea (complete with Christmas tree on the pier):
I had a lot of time to think about this past year and figure some things out on the bus ride up to RI, and then the train ride back to NY from New Haven Sunday night. It was exactly what I needed. I'm now looking forward to my tradition of writing down all of my New Year's resolutions and wishes, and am looking forward to starting fresh next year. But now, let the holiday madness begin!

Taiwan pics and randomness

...and added them to my post below, as well as a couple more fun facts.

And what else. I'm tired. Work has been crazy every since I got back. Deadlines everywhere. Updating title fact sheets. Preparing for focus meeting. Writing catalog copy. Editing. Preparing acquisition meeting proposals. Reviewing copyedited manuscripts. Reading manuscript for edit meeting. Writing flap copy. Finalizing cover specs. Answering emails. Answering phones. Putting out fires. Not answering emails. Trying to ignore the smoke. Wanting another vacation.

And I'll stop before I have a repeat of this other post. But I feel the same way. There's too much to do. And I feel bad because I'm letting deadlines I've set for authors slide in exchange for keeping the in-house deadlines. Once again, Connie has been a life saver, doing most of the work, keeping me on schedule. Props to Connie! Woo-hoo!

I've managed to have some fun--went to our monthly Karaoke outing last night--although tonight I was planning on going out but was too tired. Watched my man Yul continue to kick ass on Survivor. Not to jinx him, but he could actually win this! He has a 1 in 6 chance now (And did you know that you can watch full episodes online?). I'm catching up on one of the best shows in television, Dexter on Showtime On Demand right now, and will go to sleep early. Twisted, disturbing, and brilliant. Kinda like your mom. (Oh, sorry, that's the kind of thing my friend James would say.)

Okay, I'm obviously delirious. Time for bed.

Cool blog

I found this blog on Gothamist. Very creative. I think Linda would get a kick out of it. Heck, I think she's a RISD grad, so maybe they already know each other. I love the video of the subway swing, because it's so carefree, and also classic New York--most of the bystanders don't even flinch/react to such a strange occurence, and others immediately jump in and want to try. That's one of the things I love about New York.

I found the setting her hair free a little gross, though, although the spirit of it is nice, I guess. But ugg, imagine finding a braid of human hair attached to a deflated balloon on the ground?! Or what if you were swimming and your arm caught on it. Yuck! It reminds me of the story my friend once told me about a college boyfriend who gave her his chopped-off ponytail in a paper lunch bag for Christmas one year. What was sad is that he really thought it was a romantic gift, because he knew she never liked his ponytail. Again, nice sentiment, but *shudder*.

I'm leaving on a jet plane...

In a little over an hour, I'll be leaving for the airport on my way to Taipei, Taiwan for a family reunion. My mother's side of the family, who all live in the U.S., try to get together at least once a year. Last year we took a tour of the Canadian Rocky Mountains, and this year we're off to Taiwan and taking a tour around the island. I haven't been since I lived there for about a year and a half after college--about nine years ago. No doubt it's changed a lot. I'm looking forward to reconnecting with cousins I haven't seen in a while, to eating delicious food (although I'll miss my Thanksgiving stuffing and mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce), and I'm even looking forward to the long plane ride so that I can sleep and read--although not simultaneously.

I'm not sure what my internet access will be like during the tour, so you may not hear from me for a few weeks (I'm back to NY on the evening of the 28th). But if I can, I'll post.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

86!!

Okay, T.S. found this list of the 100 best children's book on the National Education Association's page (from 1999, I think). Same rules as last time. I put a star if I liked it as a kid, even if I may not like the book today:

*Charlotte's Web by E. B. White
*The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg
*Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss
*The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss
*Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
-Love You Forever by Robert N. Munsch (creepy, toilet on cover...)
*The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein
*The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle
*Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls (this is the book that made me cry the hardest as a kid)
*The Mitten by Jan Brett
?Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown
*Hatchet by Gary Paulsen
*The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis
*Where the Sidewalk Ends: the Poems and Drawing of Shel Silverstein by Shel Silverstein
*Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
*Stellaluna by Janell Cannon
*Oh, The Places You'll Go by Dr. Seuss
*Strega Nona by Tomie De Paola
*Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst
*Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you see? by Bill Martin, Jr.
*Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl
*The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams
*A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
Shiloh by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
*How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss
*The True Story of the Three Little Pigs by Jon Scieszka
?Chicka Chicka Boom Boom by John Archambault
*Little House on the Prarie by Laura Ingalls Wilder
*The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
*The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh by A. A. Milne
*The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner
*Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan
*Indian in the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks
*Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell
*Maniac Magee by Jerry Spinelli
The BFG by Roald Dahl (one of the few Roald Dahl books I haven't read)
*The Giver by Lois Lowry
?If You Give a Mouse a Cookie by Laura Joffe Numeroff
*James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
*Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder
?Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D. Taylor (to be honest, I can't remember 100% if I've read this...)
*The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien
*The Lorax by Dr. Seuss
Stone Fox by John Reynolds Gardiner
*Number the Stars by Lois Lowry
*Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh by Robert C. O'Brien
*Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (probably my all-time favorite book)
?The Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister
Amazing Grace by Mary Hoffman
The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson
*Corduroy by Don Freeman
*Jumanji by Chris Van Allsburg
*Math Curse by Jon Scieszka
*Matilda by Roald Dahl
-Summer of the Monkeys by Wilson Rawls
*Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume
*Ramona Quimby, Age 8 by Beverly Cleary
*The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White
*Are You My Mother? by Philip D. Eastman
*The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis (read all 7--many times)
*Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey
*One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish by Dr. Seuss
*The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
*The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats (my favorite picture book from childhood)
*The Napping House by Audrey Wood
*Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig (another childhood favorite)
*The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter
*Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt
* The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum
*Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery
*Horton Hatches the Egg by Dr. Seuss
?Basil of Baker Street, by Eve Titus
*The Little Engine That Could by Watty Piper
The Cay by Theodore Taylor
*Curious George by Hans Augusto Rey
Wilfred Gordon McDonald Partridge by Mem Fox
*Arthur series by Marc Tolon Brown (only some)
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson (this has been on my to read list for a very long time)
*Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse by Kevin Henkes
*Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder
*The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton
?The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown
Sideways Stories from Wayside School by Louis Sachar
?Amelia Bedelia by Peggy Parish (these books annoyed me when I was a kid)
*Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh
*A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
Mr. Popper's Penguins by Richard Atwater
My Father's Dragon by Ruth Stiles Gannett
?Stuart Little by E. B. White (when I was a kid, I hated the open-ended ending)
*Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech
*The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare
The Art Lesson by Tomie De Paola
*Caps for Sale by Esphyr Slobodkina
*Clifford, the Big Red Dog by Norman Bridwell
*Heidi by Johanna Spyri
*Horton Hears a Who by Dr. Seuss
The Sign of the Beaver by Elizabeth George Speare
The Watsons Go to Birmingham-1963 by Christopher Paul Curtis
?Guess How Much I Love You by Sam McBratney
*The Paper Bag Princess by Robert N. Munsch

86%, baybee! I was kinda hoping for 100%, but oh well.

23

Just saw this on KT Buffy's blog, and thought I'd go through the exercise as well.

In 2005, Time magazine picked the 100 best English-language novels (1923-present). Mark the selections you have read in bold. If you liked it, add a star (*) in front of the title, if you didn't, give it a minus (-). Then, put the total number of books you've read in the subject line.

(I'm also adding a question mark (?) to indicate indifference or mixed feelings.)

The Adventures of Augie March - Saul Bellow
?All the King's Men - Robert Penn Warren (HS)
American Pastoral - Philip Roth
An American Tragedy - Theodore Dreiser
*Animal Farm - George Orwell (listened to audiobook)
Appointment in Samarra - John O'Hara
*Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret - Judy Blume
The Assistant - Bernard Malamud
At Swim-Two-Birds - Flann O'Brien
-Atonement - Ian McEwan (didn't HATE it, but didn't really enjoy it, and struggled to finish it)
?Beloved - Toni Morrison (HS)
The Berlin Stories - Christopher Isherwood
The Big Sleep - Raymond Chandler
The Blind Assassin - Margaret Atwood (I started this, but never got past the first chapter)
Blood Meridian - Cormac McCarthy
Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
The Bridge of San Luis Rey - Thornton Wilder
Call It Sleep - Henry Roth
*Catch-22 - Joseph Heller
*The Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger (HS)
A Clockwork Orange - Anthony Burgess
The Confessions of Nat Turner - William Styron
The Corrections - Jonathan Franzen
The Crying of Lot 49 - Thomas Pynchon
A Dance to the Music of Time - Anthony Powell
The Day of the Locust - Nathanael West
Death Comes for the Archbishop - Willa Cather
A Death in the Family - James Agee
The Death of the Heart - Elizabeth Bowen
Deliverance - James Dickey
Dog Soldiers - Robert Stone
Falconer - John Cheever
The French Lieutenant's Woman - John Fowles
The Golden Notebook - Doris Lessing
Go Tell it on the Mountain - James Baldwin
*Gone With the Wind - Margaret Mitchell
*The Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
Gravity's Rainbow - Thomas Pynchon
*The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald (HS)
A Handful of Dust - Evelyn Waugh
The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers
The Heart of the Matter - Graham Greene
Herzog - Saul Bellow
Housekeeping - Marilynne Robinson
A House for Mr. Biswas - V.S. Naipaul
?I, Claudius - Robert Graves (HS)
Infinite Jest - David Foster Wallace
Invisible Man - Ralph Ellison
Light in August - William Faulkner
*The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - C.S. Lewis
*Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
*Lord of the Flies - William Golding (HS)
*The Lord of the Rings - J.R.R. Tolkien
Loving - Henry Green
Lucky Jim - Kingsley Amis
The Man Who Loved Children - Christina Stead
Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
Money - Martin Amis
The Moviegoer - Walker Percy
*Mrs. Dalloway - Virginia Woolf
Naked Lunch - William Burroughs
Native Son - Richard Wright
Neuromancer - William Gibson
Never Let Me Go - Kazuo Ishiguro
1984 - George Orwell
On the Road - Jack Kerouac
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest - Ken Kesey
The Painted Bird - Jerzy Kosinski
Pale Fire - Vladimir Nabokov
*A Passage to India - E.M. Forster
*Play It As It Lays - Joan Didion (college)
Portnoy's Complaint - Philip Roth
Possession - A.S. Byatt
The Power and the Glory - Graham Greene
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie - Muriel Spark
Rabbit, Run - John Updike
Ragtime - E.L. Doctorow
The Recognitions - William Gaddis
Red Harvest - Dashiell Hammett
Revolutionary Road - Richard Yates
The Sheltering Sky - Paul Bowles
Slaughterhouse-Five - Kurt Vonnegut
Snow Crash - Neal Stephenson
The Sot-Weed Factor - John Barth
The Sound and the Fury - William Faulkner
The Sportswriter - Richard Ford
The Spy Who Came in From the Cold - John Le Carre
*The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway (HS)
*Their Eyes Were Watching God - Zora Neale Hurston
Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe
*To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee (one of my all-time favorite books)
To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf
Tropic of Cancer - Henry Miller
Ubik - Philip K. Dick
Under the Net - Iris Murdoch
Under the Volcano - Malcolm Lowry
Watchmen - Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons
*White Noise - Don DeLillo (college class)
*White Teeth - Zadie Smith
Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys

I don't think I did too badly--almost 25%. Give me the 100 best children's books, and I'll bet I'd get over 80%. What scared me, though, is that there are a lot on this list that I've never even heard of.

If any of you absolutely loved a book on this list that I haven't read, let me know and I'll add it to my extremely large "to read" list.

the week after

Here's a video my friend Miguel took of me during the marathon. This was at mile 11. Pardon my chomping on a Power Bar.



Yesterday morning I woke up and suddenly wasn't sore anymore--and today I'm feeling the first pang of letdown. There is no longer a physical reminder of my adventure, and I'm already wondering what my next one will be. I knew this would happen, just didn't want it to happen so quickly! It's funny how both unexpected and predictable life is sometimes.

In other news, I've had a fun week of happy hours, including the kidlit blogging drinks on Monday night--it was fun seeing so many familiar faces, and meeting some new people--I love the children's book community!

And finally...why does Grey's Anatomy have to be so gut-wrenching? Then again, you just know. That happy couple will be happy again. At least for a while.

I ran a marathon!!!!!

It's the day after the marathon, I've just slept 9 1/2 hours, and may go back for more. But first of all, I DID IT!!!

I ran the NYC marathon. And I achieved 2 out of my 3 goals. My first goal was to run the whole way (aside from the few seconds it took to drink water), my realistic time goal was to be within 5 hours, and my ambitious time goal was to do it in 4 1/2 hours. I ran the whole way (albeit slowly), and finished with a net time of 4:48:59.

It was incredible. Overwhelming. Emotional.My preparation started the night before with a pasta dinner at home, and I went to bed at 9:30. Wasn't able to fall asleep until 2 am--kept tossing and turning, thoughts running through my mind. I tried to envision myself running the marathon successfully, but only managed to picture myself tripping, or limping through it. Felt imaginary knee and leg pain all night, and my foot kept cramping up. I was itching to run, though, to feel the concrete beneath my feet. And when my alarm went off at 5 am, I was ready.

I took a cab with my roommate Rose to midtown, for her to take an official marathon bus, and me to go to the Fred's Team breakfast for bagels and coffee and fruit. After a team photo in Times Square, we set off in the buses. Buses everywhere! I had arranged to meet Rose and her friend Paula at the food area, and I'm glad I did. Despite how prepared I thought I was, I realized I had forgotten my wrist band and my watch, and also did not have enough clothes with me. It was freezing cold, and we had two hours to wait on Staten Island until the race began. But Rose had an extra sweatshirt and a blanket, and I tried to bundle up. We chilled out on a blanket, pretending to be at a beach, reading magazines. When the time got closer to line up, Rose alarmed me by saying that she was planning on taking an 8-hour Tylenol dose once an hour.
"But it's 8-hour Tylenol!"
"But I'm running a marathon!"
Paula read the package. "Do not exceed 3 doses in a 24-hour period."
"Fine. Well, I'll take one dose now, and then as needed."

I had a dose in my pocket, too, just in case. Didn't want to take it unless I needed it. Boy, would I need it.

Rose and Paula left me to line up with their numbers, and I searched the crowd for my friend Paul whose number was close to mine, and amazingly found him. We started the race together, winding up to the Verrazano Bridge, dodging the minefield of clothes. There were clothes everywhere--just as Rose, Paula, and I did, people just discarded their clothes and blankets rather than bother with checking them. It was funny to see clothes fly through the air to the sides as people discarded more while running.

I told myself to savor the whole race, that as was the case with skydiving, it would be over before I knew it. I was planning to take the first 3 hours slowly--but because I had forgotten my watch, it was hard for me to calculate/remember what my time was for each mile, but maybe that was for the best. I just ran. The view from the bridge was beautiful. Volunteers and workers cheered us on from the median. When I made my way down to the bottom of the bridge where people lined the route, I was psyched. The main thing that had made me consider running a year ago was the warmth and support of the crowd. As a spectator, I wanted to lift the runners who went by, to encourage them. I loved yelling out their names, cheering them on. And it made me want to be one of the runners, benefiting from the cheers of the crowd.

I had debated whether to spell my name on my shirt phonetically, but decided against it. I just wanted my name, the way I spell it, on my shirt, and thankfully I think I only heard one "Al-vine-a" and two "Alvinia"s the whole time--not bad! I ran mainly along the sides, partially to keep an eye out for friends, but mostly to give people high fives and hear my name. As people, these strangers, cheered my name on the sidelines, I got verklempt at how wonderful the support was. I loved giving high fives to little kids lining the route, and truly, it buoyed me, energized me. One of the best stretches was running along Lafayette Street in Brooklyn, because the narrower street was more intimate with the spectators. Just as Rose had told me from her experience last year, the cheering of the names has a domino effect--if one person yells "Go Alvina" then people farther along the route will hear that and look for "Alvina" and continue the cheer. During one instance of this happening around mile 8, I hear "ALVINA!!!" and I look back and there's Rose, making her way towards me. As we're hugging we hear someone saying, "In a marathon of 37,000 people, what are the chances..." and there, beside us, is Heather, Rose's friend. Amazing.

The first friends I saw, a Randoms contingent, were camped out on Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg. I stopped to take a couple bites of a Power Bar and say hi. Then Sachin was a mile later in Greenpoint, with my camera:"How do you feel?"
"I feel good--but we'll see how I feel 10 miles from now."

I looked out for Peggy and Antonella by the Queensborough Bridge, but didn't see them--but I did see Cathy, twice. I was feeling great. Happily, my left knee which had been bothering me, popping when I walked, was silent and fine. I felt good. Both the Randoms and Sachin commented that I didn't look like I had just run 11 or 12 miles.

Getting into Manhattan finally was amazing, both because I knew there was less than 10 miles left, and also because I was looking forward to running by Sloan Kettering in my Fred's Team shirt, and seeing my roommates near my own apartment. But 1st Avenue is my hood, and I felt comfortable there, familiar.

A woman spectator was running really fast trying to cross the street, and dropped her scarf in front of me. I picked it up and ran after her to return it (man, she was running fast!)--that was my good deed of the day.

I started feeling tired up in the 90s, but then saw Connie and Matt unexpectedly. "What are you doing on the Upper East Side?!" I said as I gave her a hug--she had told me she'd be in Brooklyn, but I hadn't seen her. "Cheering you on!" she said. It helped.

It took forever to get to the Bronx, but I just counted the streets as I went by. And then in the Bronx, I once again saw Cathy! Truly a dedicated spectator. "You're everywhere!" I yelled as I ran off. Once I knew there was less than 6 miles left, I knew I was homefree. That I had made it. 6 miles is once around Central Park, a run I do all the time. People say you hit the wall around mile 21 or 22, but I was just excited to be running the farthest I've ever run in my life, and I didn't really feel so bad. "It's not that hard!" I thought, amazed. I mean, it was hard, but not as hard as I thought it would be. I remembered the quote Amy and Bryan had sent me from Jimmy Dugan: "It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. It's the hard that makes it great." In fact, I was a little disappointed. I wanted it to be hard, I wanted it to be great.

But then, with 4 miles to go, it hit me. My left knee. Sharp, stabbing pain. Ouch. I felt that each step was tearing something. Of course, I immediately regretted thinking what I had thought before, that it wasn't hard enough. I wanted it to be "easy" again. I started limp a little, trying to keep my left leg as straight as possible.

But I kept going, thinking about professional athletes who play through pain. I could make it 4 miles with a hurt knee. I had less than 4 miles left, I wasn't going to give up. I took out my 8-hour Tylenol and took it at the next water station. It helped a little. I stopped limping. I was going to make it.

I saw another unexpected friend cheering me on--Nancy and Jonny in Manhattan just as we were leaving the Bronx. I saw her too late, and the route was narrow, so I couldn't stop to say hi, but she jumped up and down cheering "Alvina! Alvina! Alvina!" and I laughed and waved at her.

The last 4 miles were the hardest, mainly because my knee, but also psychologically, because I felt like I was so close, but really, there was still miles and miles to go. Each mile marker took forever to come. I got a little emotional when we finally made our way into Central Park, because it felt so much closer then--but I knew that it was still a long way from East 90th Street and the finish line on the West side. As with the 20-mile training run, it was the second-to-last mile that was the toughest. And after I finally passed the mile 25 marker, it seemed like forever before I ran 0.2 miles past that and saw the 1-mile-to-go marker. But I sped up then--I was determined to finish under the 5 hour mark, and I was cutting it close.

I crossed the finish line at 4 hours, 58 minutes, and 59 seconds. When I checked my net time later, I saw that I must have taken exactly 10 minutes to cross the starting time, because my official time was 4:48:59.

Done. Got my medal. I ran a marathon. Hard to believe.

Sachin met me at the family reunion area with flowers:
then it was home for a long, hot shower. Ahhhhhh. And then on to Mo's Caribbean to celebrate with Rose, Paula, and friends where I saw this sign in the window:I found out later that Antonella had left it there for me--she had gone to cheer, but couldn't get to the side of the street she had told me to look for her, and so I passed her by. But I knew she was there somewhere, cheering me on!

Drinks and wings at Mo's was followed with Ethiopian food, and then a blissful deep, deep sleep. All in all, a very good day.

And today...I'm sore, but okay. My legs are stiff, my knee still hurts and feels swollen. Going down stairs is tough. Will I run it again? I think so. It was so much fun, so exhilarating. And I'd like to improve on my time. But maybe I'll take a year off. We'll see. Stay tuned.

Thank you everyone for your support! I couldn't have done it without all of you. And during my training, I've inspired my father to run--he's training for the San Diego marathon in June.

Here's Rose, me, and Paula at Mo's: And now it's time for a nap.


Note: a couple of photos were taken from various flickr sites. All other photos were taken by Sachin.

pumpkin and costume answer

And the answer to the "which pumpkin is mine?" question:

Sara was right! You know me so well. But I wonder if it's because the pumpkin I carved in 2003 us suspiciously familiar:I wanted a scary pumpkin. But thanks for all of your guesses and kind reasons for why you thought a particular one was mine!

I marched in the NY Halloween parade on Tuesday in Greenwich Village, which was a lot of fun. I think 2003 might have been the last (and first) time I did it. I love seeing all the costumes, and was obsessed with a group of 15 or so people who all dressed as bananas. Here's a video:



And as for my costume, I was indeed a squid. My friend Julie's mom made this costume for her when she was in high school, and it's been making the rounds ever since.

And so now...it's the night before the marathon and I'm decompressing (not, as I mistakenly said earlier today, decomposing). I have butterflies--am both nervous and excited. I don't really doubt that I'll finish, but you never know what can happen. My left knee has been bothering me--popping. But I think I'll make it through.

I can't believe it's here! I think it'll be a big letdown afterwards, but I'll enjoy it while I can, and I'll enjoy my after party as well. Stay tuned for an update, I'll post on Monday at the latest--I'm taking the day off to relax and recover.

Oh, and the good news is that I've surpassed my fundraising goal, so thank you everyone for your support!

Happy Halloween!

NOTE: New pic and video added at bottom of post

Just a few pics from my weekend. I should have more pics after tonight:

Pumpin-carvin' Friday (can you guess which one is mine?):
(I'll give the answer later this week. No prize, but you'll get fame and props from me)

Costume wearin' Saturday (can you guess what I am?): Alexis in the cutest costume ever: Cupcake!

Mariko is dressed as the lower east side bulding, Blue:

No candy for me, but I still like to get in the spirit of the holiday. Happy Halloween!

**Additional picture and video**

As Sara says, you can't see my whole costume, so here's a better picture of it that Mariko took. We're actually all dancing around a robot ghost:

Here's a video of it:

Countdown to the marathon, and thoughts on beauty

For some reason, I've been thinking that I have 3 weeks until the marathon, but I realized suddenly over the weekend that it's just 2 weeks away. There's a counter on the official ING Marathon website that kind of stresses me out, but really, I'm ready. Well, as ready as I'll ever be! Which if good, because it's too late to do anything about it, really. So until then, I'm just planning on eating a lot of pasta, doing a few short runs, and trying to wrap up my fundraising.

Speaking of fundraising, you can donate here for pediatric cancer research. I think I've gotten one blog-related donation so far! Thank you, thank you Kristy.

****

For those of you in the NY area, you should definitely check out the Chihuly exhibit at the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx--it's there until October 29th. I went there for Chihuly Nights last Thursday for Saho's Birthday, and it was breathtaking. Here are a few pics:

Or check out an exhibit somewhere near you.

It made me think about the different kind of beauty in the world. That something so artificial , and surrounded by nature, could still be so breathtaking. This past weekend I was surrounded by different kinds of beauty. I took a trip out to Princeton with two friends to visit Julie and have a girls' weekend.

Here is some of the beauty I encountered there:

The beauty of the blue sky, fluffy white clouds, and the green in an apple orchard on a brisk fall day...

the beauty of finding my first-ever four-leaf clover...

the beauty of warm homemade apple cake topped with homemade vanilla ice cream...

and, of course, the beauty of friends.

Origin of "snarky"...and I'm goin' for twunny!

Mitali asked about the origin of the word "snarky," so curious, I googled it. I found this:

Critical in a curmudgeonly sort of way. The adjective snarky is first recorded in 1906. It is from dialectal British snark, meaning 'to nag, find fault with', which is probably the same word as snark, snork, meaning 'to snort, snore'. (The likely connection is the derisive snorting sound of someone who is always finding fault.) Most dictionaries label snarky as "Chiefly British Slang." But for the last five or more years, it has become increasingly common in American publications, maybe ones infiltrated by British or Canadian writers and journalists.

And this:
1. Rudely sarcastic or disrespectful; snide.
2. Irritable or short-tempered; irascible.
[From dialectal snark, to nag, from snark, snork, to snore, snort, from Dutch and Low German snorken, of imitative origin.]

And this:
Main Entry: snarky
Pronunciation: 'snär-kE
Function: adjective
Etymology: dialect snark to annoy, perhaps alteration of nark to irritate
1 : CROTCHETY, SNAPPISH
2 : sarcastic, impertinent, or irreverent in tone or manner

Anyway, I have a new rule. I'm the only snark allowed on my blog.

-----------

I'm about to head out for a twenty-mile run this morning. I hope I don't feel too funny. More later.


1:38 pm
Okay, I'm back, and I do feel funny, but I also feel good--especially now that it's over! 20 miles in 3 hours, 27 minutes, and 29 seconds. Faster than I've ever run a long race. For the 18 miles that were scored, I averaged 10 minute and 12 second miles. Much faster than I ran the half marathon. I did it! The last 5 miles were killer, though. I kept feeling like stopping. And the second-to-last mile was the worst, but then I passed this buff guy who was walking, his arms straight out in front of him and his hands making fists, and he was talking to himself. "Almost there. Almost there." and I thought, ha--I'm doing better than this guy. And then later he started running again and I heard him muttering to himself, "Focus. Focus." and that kept me going.

Little things like that help a lot. Going up one of the killer hills that seemed like it would never end, and a woman on a bicycle shouted encouraging things to us. "Use your arms to help you up the hill. Almost there. This is the last time you'll see this hill." It helped. I'm looking forward to all of this and more during the actual marathon. It better help, because when I passed mile 16 and thought, damn, could I do 10 more miles? I didn't think I could. But I'll be pumped up, and I'll have friends at various spots on the route, so that will keep me going. And really, if I must, I'll take walking breaks.

I met up with Fred's Team, before the race, because we were doing an extra 2 miles before the 18 mile training run. I went out to the Thursday night training last week, so there were some familiar faces, which was good. It was fun to keep a look out for the bright orange shirts and bright purple shorts. Thursday, though, almost killed me. We did stairs. Including hopping up stairs on one foot. I didn't realize how hard that was until I tried it. But I must say, it helped during the race, because I thought about it when going up hills. Pumping my arms, bouncing on my toes.

Oh, and another cool thing--as I crossed the finish line, they announced my name. "And now finishing at XX:XX is Alvina L*ng with Fred's Team!" We had chips during this run, so I guess my name must have popped up on the computer. It was nice that they pronounced it right, too. I'm always afraid that people will say "Al-vine-a" instead of "Al-vee-na."

Okay, that all for now. I did twenty, and that's plenty. Now for a nice, long, hot shower.

Oh, and not that I expect the blogosphere to support my run financially, but if you're looking to donate for pediatric cancer research (it's tax deductable), you can sponsor me here. I'm running in honor of Grace Lin's husband, Robert, who, after a long run at it, is finally in remission again! Let's hope the same for everyone fighting cancer.

Still juggling...but fewer balls now

So, I'm still busy, but it's not as overwhelmingly crazy as it was last week and the beginning of this week. I'm surviving and being productive and feeling good.

If you want to get a better understanding of exactly what I've been doing lately, read this post on the Blue Rose Girls blog. Friday's are generally my day to blog, so check there every Friday if you want to read a chidren's book-related post by me. We also have a question of the week at the beginning of each week where we all try to answer a question.

As for me...I'd like to introduce Tanya and Chris's new daughter Annelise. These pictures are from the hospital two weekends ago:
And I couldn't resist posting this picture of "Auntie Alvina" that Antonella took of me and her daugher Alessandra at the hospital. I had no idea what expression she had on her face when I was holding her, and I think her smile is so adorable:

Last weekend was our wonderful, inspiring, rejuvenating Blue Rose Girls get-together where we tried to "get down to the cupcake level" to take a picture, and then realized, geniuses that we are, that we should bring the cupcakes up to our level instead:

I went to Nate and Ingrid's baby shower last Sunday when I got back. Brought Sachin to his first baby shower, which he enjoyed, because it was more Super Bowl Sunday than baby shower.

This week was filled with goodbyes to my roommate Lisa who is moving today to Chicago--so sad to see her go! We had a drink on the terrace one last time on Wednesday. Also went to a cocktail party for that crazy building "Blue" in the Lower East Side which was kinda a bust (badly planned drinks and food) but was worth checking out anyway. Last night was the bachelorette party for Nikki--fun gals, good food and wine at Supper, and lots of cheesy bachelorette "flair." Tonight is happy hour, then Mariko's birthday party, tomorrow night is Don and Nikki's wedding, and Sunday is my day of rest, with Little Miss Sunshine, I hope--finally!

What are the chances...

I'm not sure if this will be interesting to people who don't know Mathieu, but let me try and see anyway, because I love coincidences. Anyway, for future reference, this is me with my friend Mathieu:


He's a Random and also one of the "Frenchies" and back in August he moved back to France. So anyway, last Wednesday Sachin and I went to see a free improv show at the PIT (People's Improv Theater). We got there a bit early so hung out in the little lounge. There were these huge blown up photographs hung around the room like this:


I took a double take and looked at the middle one a bit closer...

Recognize him? Isn't that crazy? How random is that?!?!