there is not. enough. time. (is it really june 7? REALLY? really now.)
a visual summary of what’s been up with me in the past month:
We went back to New York. I stalked my old seminary (did any of you see me there? I was being shy. I’m sorry) and marveled that it’s been A YEAR since graduating. (not. enough. TIME!) We ate the $26 burger (not as good as expected), ate again the shake shack burgers (perhaps better than remembered?), walked old haunts, shadowed our former lives, reminisced. It felt familiar, comfortable, sweet, easy. The trip eased my fears about our having left New York a year ago: it’s still there, and still waiting for us.
I’ve started taking aerial arts (read: circus arts) classes, a four-week session in May-June, which has elicited interesting comments from everyone in my life from my boyfriend to my boss. Mostly people tend to be worried for my safety, and I can’t say I blame them… I’m not among the most graceful of people. But, in only two weeks, I’m already feeling tremendously stronger, and it’s jump-started new life into my running routine! Ever finding new projects, I’ve sketched out a little running plan for the next few months. We’ll see how that goes… we all know that I haven’t started anything even with worms yet.
I’ve quit coffee! Or, maybe I should say: I’ve started tea! For the past few years, I’ve only been able to drink coffee when laden with sugar, cream–anything to get that golden caffeine into my veins. Now, I’m not saying I won’t refuse a nice creamy cold press or dark mocha latte if offered, but the truth is, I’ve been consuming more cream than I think is healthy for one person. So I’m making my own iced tea, and I’m liking it.
Lastly, perhaps the main reason I’ve been neglecting this fair space more than usual is that I’ve been reading, one of the goals that I’ve set forth for myself. From Lolita to the Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, I’ve been reading a lot and enjoying it immensely. It’s a weird reaction that in reading more, which I’ve been doing in hopes of encouraging myself to write, I’m actually writing quite less. I’ll have to figure out a way to balance those two tensions.
Some more reflections, and a follow-up to some projects, to be posted soon!
This is me. Me, stuffing my face. Me, stuffing my face with one of the best burgers you can find, at a magical place called Shake Shack in New York City.
Back when B and I lived in New York, B was on a quest to find the best burger in New York, and I got to reap the benefits of his labor by eating very well. These pictures were taken on one of our last days in the city, as we frantically tried to encapsulate all of our “favorite things” into those finals days when we were neither working nor in seminary nor fighting nor packing nor traveling nor crying. (Have you heard? Moving is hard.)
This week, B is in finals for med school, which means I hardly see him and he feels like he’s dying. But NEXT week–it is a dream!–next week, we’re heading back to New York for five days to spend time with friends, and, of course, continue B’s hunt for the perfect burger. Yes, we will head to Shake Shack. Also on our list? We have reservations for Minetta Tavern, where we will have their $26 Black Label Burger. It costs more than their steak. I expect nothing less from New York.
Since moving back to the Twin Cities from New York, I’ve noticed in myself an ugly persuasion. I judge people. A lot more than I used to.
It’s almost kind of funny, because I sort of judge them according to how “cool” they are — as if I were cool. That’s the funny part, because I really am not cool. My requirements for ‘cool’? It’s how genuine people are, how forthright, how comfortable, how un-self-conscious.
So, last night I went to the Cloud Cult show at the Cabooze. I walked around the show completely in my head. In New York, I tended to not question why people would show up at a show like Cloud Cult. Because duh, everyone in New York is creative and original, right? No need to attend a show in order to demonstrate one’s unique hipster nature. Obviously this thinking is ridiculous. People in New York are no “cooler” than people in Minneapolis (what kind of person thinks that, Alison?!). But in MY head, last night, it sounded like this: people in Minneapolis have an inferiority complex to places like New York/San Francisco/Portland/Chicago/LA. So we have to work harder to prove that we are cool. Which made me think that everyone there was just putting on a show by going to the show: Why are people here? What makes people come to a concert like this? Who is here because they actually want to be? And who is here because they are with someone who wants to be? Who is here only because they want to project a certain image of him or herself? What kinds of images do people intentionally project of themselves? Are people self-aware of how and why they portray themselves in certain ways? Read the rest of this entry »