#46- Boston - Bisses and Hoos - April 26, 2008

Well, that is how tired I have been, my friends – apparently I am incapable of pronouncing even the simplest of words, and when we headed to the Arlington Friends of the Drama’s performance of Charles Dickens’ “The Mystery of Edwin Drood” last night, and I was explaining, make that, trying to explain, to Stan and Caroline that this is all about audience participation, and there should be “hisses and boos”, I instead exclaimed, “You’ll love this, there will be bisses and hoos!” I blame the Valium. I pretty much blame everything on the Valium (“baby doses”, year right…), that my doctor ordered so that those cramps of mine finally settle down (and they are doing so), but it has made me a little “unfocused”, shall we say? My friend Birgit who visited last week experienced it first hand last week, and I started to come up with a whole new set of Petraisms and other incomprehensible gibberish in German- somebody has to write this stuff down some day.

Back to Edwin (http://www.afdtheatre.org /). “The Mystery of Edwin Drood” was pretty much the last thing Charles Dickens ever wrote; he actually never finished it, and so from his point of view, there was no indication as to where he wanted the story to go. Did young Edwin Drood really disappear; was he murdered, or did he fake his own death in an insurance scam? No one knows, and that is the beauty of it – theater troupes can finish the play any way they see fit or involve the audience as happened last night in Arlington. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edwin_Drood). This one was actually performed as a musical, written by singer, songwriter, composer Rupert Holmes, who was best know for his “Escape” pop ditty, also known as the “Pina Colada Song” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QVdhZwK7cS8). “If you like Pina Colada……..”

First the story – young Edwin is about to be betrothed to the lovely Rosa Bud, but his uncle John Jasper, a sinister character and choirmaster, has the hots for her too. He is her music teacher and keeps trying to convince her that he is the better deal. Enter Neville Landless (our friend and dinner group member Irene’s boyfriend Dave, who looks mighty good in a turban, if I may say so myself) and his sister Helena, who both take an immediate dislike to Jasper. One night in Cloisterham, where the whole story plays out, Edwin Drood disappears. There are tons of suspicious characters including the Reverend Septimus Crisparkle, lawyer Hiram Grewgious and his clerk, Mr. Bazzard, stonemason Durdles, detective Dick Datchery, and Princess Puffer (who was most un-princess-like and ran an opium den) and the honorable mayor Thomas Sapsea.

The audience hissed and booed as requested last night, and also yelled “gulp, gulp, gulp”, whenever Durdles drank from his flask (which was often), and a little into the second act, we got to decide who the detective would be (Helena was chosen, even though I wanted her to be the murderess….), votes were taken as to who the audience thought the murderer should be (we were not told, but the play revealed it later) and who the lovers should be. One needs to have a happy ending, right? Well, turns out Princess Puffer was the culprit last night – apparently she had been Rosa Bud’s nanny a long time ago, and could not stand seeing her former charge tortured by Jasper. On the night of Edwin’s disappearance she went out to do him in, and unfortunately attacked Edwin by accident since he had borrowed his uncle’s cloak. Complicated you think? Turns out – Jasper found Edwin’s body and not to be implicated hid him in a not-yet-closed vault at the cemetery. Alas, Edwin was not dead and showed up later, to the delight of everyone and the happy couple turned out to be Helena and the very excitable Mr Bazzard, who according to my friend Caroline, who just moved here to Boston from the UK, had the best and most accurate British accent of the troupe. It was definitely a fun experience!!

The whole gang of us (Patrick, Ellen, Irene, Jen, Stan, Caroline and later Dana and Amy) had met earlier in Arlington for a very nice dinner at “Not Your Average Joe’s” , quite a nice restaurant to enjoy a pre-performance dinner (http://www.notyouraveragejoes.com/)

I cannot tell you how happy I am that this week ended – Little Miss Cranky here was tired and in a pretty stinky mood. Post-conference work takes on a very hectic pace, and for some reasons the evenings piled up with things – not unpleasant stuff, just lots of it, and they just resulted in an accumulation of lack of sleep that made me not a nice person. I actually flew of the handle on Tuesday morning already and snapped at a colleague of mine who told me that he does not recycle. It was Earth Day, I had just returned from my stint at the MGH Environmental Committee table in the main building, and was a bit excited about the issue, and I totally lost it. When I later apologized, he informed me that he was just pulling my leg and of course does he recycle, but I was so tired on Tuesday already that I was not picking up on any nuances. Be very explicit with me when you see me, I seem to be going in and out of my mind these days with regularity.

Last weekend I wrote to you from Franconia, New Hampshire, where Rick, Birgit and I spend a lovely weekend. Sunday we drove around a bit to show Birgit the White Mountains, in particular the Presidential Range, stopped at a few roadside waterfalls, and after a visit at Katrina’s Organic Market and Café in North Conway for food, we decided to go to see Diana’s Bath’s, which is a spectacular series of cascades, waterfalls, and potholes. As a result of the snowmelt and the enormous quantities of water gushing down it looked impressive and breathtaking. If you are not a big hiker, this is a very accessible place to go, only about half a mile in, however we went without our stabilicers or yak traks and it was tricky to walk on the slushy/icy snow that still remains on the ground. (http://www.newenglandwaterfalls.com/waterfall.php?name=Diana's%20Baths).

Birgit stayed until Monday, we said goodbye over a nice dinner at Ma Soba on Cambridge Street in Boston (http://masobaboston.com/), one of my favorite restaurants in the hub for Asian food. Monday was Marathon Day (and Patriots Day) – the streets were littered with people and later on with runners wrapped up in Mylar blankets; excitements buzzed everywhere, and those few of us who were not running or watching, kept monitoring the progress of our colleagues and friends on the Internet.

My friend Caroline moved here from the UK (everyone say “HI Caroline, Welcome to Boston”), started her job at MGH and found a nice flat on Beacon Hill and is ready to get settled in. We already started a tradition, when she came to visit for interviews, and headed to my favorite neighborhood restaurant, The East Side Bar and Grille located a few footsteps away from my house. Caroline loves meat loaf, and with that in mind I think she is well on her way to become Americanized.

I slept in this morning, which was so nice and already fell a bit more together. My friend Frank from Germany is in town for a conference and we will be heading up to Newburyport and Plum Island this afternoon, and then hopefully find a nice place for a lovely dinner.

I’ll leave you with a couple of nuggets, one is a follow-up item to the Mari Lynn email I sent you this week – if you think she was bad, you have not yet heard Wing, a Hong Kong born, NZ resident, who I honestly believe should not be allowed near anything made of glass. You must listen to her “operatic” renditions of AC/DC songs. It is absolutely horrific. http://www.wingmusic.co.nz/listen.html

Secondly, an article I saw on Boston.com, which stated that a mother’s diet may influence the baby’s sex, so if you want a boy apparently you need to eat lots of bananas and cereal. Just thought you should know. (Interestingly enough that IS exactly what I had for breakfast….. no worries though; I am not giving birth to anything except for a headache in the near future…..) http://www.boston.com/news/health/articles/2008/04/24/mothers_diet_may_be_tied_to_babys_sex/

On that note, wishing you a nice weekend – New England is feverishly trying to force spring to come out, everything is blooming and blossoming, but I think next week we are expecting lots of rain and lower temperatures. As usual, we may move pretty much straight from winter into summer. And of course you remember the 4 Seasons in Boston – Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter, Construction.

See ya!

Pet:)

#45- Boston - Koooooooz!!! April 19, 2008

Kooooooz, as in San Diego Padres infielder Kevin Kousmanov, certainly had a good day in the park, Petco Park in Sandy Eggo that is this past Tuesday night. On my last night in my new favorite town on the Pacific side of things, my friend Mat Leese and I attended a game between the hometown Padres and the visiting Colorado Rockies (you know the guys we (the Red Sox) beat last year in the World Series) - courtesy of the conference organizers. Actually I think everyone who attended the conference was in the ballpark that night, and I wonder how empty the place would have been, had we not been there.

The game started off slowly, and Padres pitcher Randy Wolf kept zipping those fastballs across the plate for some stellar strike-outs, keeping the Rockies at bay, but the action started mid-game, and mostly due to Mr. Kousmanov's excellent baseball skills, the home team scored six runs in one inning, and the Rockies never recovered from that. It was a lovely evening, a "chilly" 60 degrees out there - amazing how quickly I got spoiled by the first 80-degree weather I encountered, and moped about the fact that it was "quite nippy" that night. Meanwhile folks in Boston were hiding under comforters on account of 40-degree weather. I am such a wimp.

You know what was great about this trip and this conference? Everything was walking distance - the conference center a short block and a half from the hotel, which in turn was located right in the historic gas lamp district, and the ball park literally 25 steps away from my hotel's front entrance. In addition, San Diego and the Gaslamp District offer some very nice meals - nothing topped the Persian meal at Bandar I wrote to you about last week, however, my dish of seared and peppered tuna in ponzu sauce with asparagus at the Ocean Room Oyster Bar (http://www.oceanroomsandiego.com/) looked so good, I had to take a photo of it. Even the garnish, an orchid, was edible and I know some friends of the orchid who would shiver at the thought that I eat precious flora such as this, but I just had to try. Another meal at Aqua Blu, also located on one of the Gaslamp's main drags, 4th Street (http://www.aquabluseafood.com/) was also high on the list of places to recommend for future SD visitors - even though the cod I ordered did not remind (or taste) at all of the state fish of Massachusetts, but as I was educated today in the seafood store across the street from my house in Cambridge, it may have been so-called black cod. Wikipedia confirmed it by saying it is "unrelated to the true cod and gets its name from the fact that it is a food fish. It is tasty to eat and is commercially fished". (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_cod)

What did I not like about this trip? Standing on concrete floors in a conference centers all day - most of my work centers around the poster sessions and in the exhibit halls, I do have to talk to tons of people, and that means standing A LOT. The carpet is pretty much the thickness of a sheet of paper and I had to ice my feet every night, just to make sure that my heels would not get inflamed, and it did seem to do the trick.

The trip back, of course, did not go smoothly, since I seem to have acquired the ability to break planes. Remember the last conference I attended, when the plane did not even leave Logan Airport before it broke down? Well, this time it happened in Denver where I had to switch planes on my way to Boston and wouldn't you know it, same thing. We sat in the plane, and it never worked, we waited for a while until a new plane came in from Seattle and with a nice 4-hour delay I arrived in Boston, tired and most cranky. I have a gift, I tell you. If you see me on the same plane with you, be prepared.

That was Wednesday and Thursday my friend Birgit from Germany flew into town for a conference and joined Oscar and me at Casa Petra. We went for a meal at the King and I, one of my favorite Thai places in Boston, even though they did have an off night, and we needed to send a dish back (http://www.kingandi-boston.com/). After that it was off to Watertown to pick up Oscar at his vacation home with the Cooley family, and I almost did not make it there. I was so out of it from lack of sleep that I was halfway to Route 2 before I realized that that was not where I wanted to go.

Friday must have been one of the busiest days I have had in a long time, and I did not get to eat lunch until about 3 PM. It was nonstop all day, and I was glad to leave around 7 PM to join Birgit and her fellow conference attendees for some nice food and drink at the Parish Cafe on Boylston Street. Downtown Boston was a zoo, and no matter where you went, it was packed to the gills - the marathon is on Monday and there are conferences going on left and right, which means that there are probably an additional 30,000 people running around the city. We split up in two groups, got (as expected) excellent food and beer and everyone was happy (http://www.parishcafe.com/index2.html). All the sandwiches at the Parish Cafe are designed by chefs from renowned Boston restaurants, and that coupled with their beer selection is worth a try any day.

Today, after a very nice breakfast at Z Square (at Harvard Square in Cambridge - http://www.z-square.com/) - we toured Harvard Yard (http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&q=Harvard+Yard&gbv=2) for a bit before hoofing it up to New Hampshire, in particular Franconia. We arrived here early afternoon, and after resting on the porch with the greatest view ever, we headed down back toward Franconia Notch and The Basin - http://images.google.com/images?gbv=2&hl=en&q=Franconia+Notch+The+Basin. We had a nice little hike planned, and whereas everywhere else it was sunny and hot (yes, spring has sprung everywhere and in Boston the magnolia trees are heading into full bloom), we needed our stabilicers (http://www.32north.com/prod_stab.htm) to walk on lots of snow. There was tons of postholing going on (sinking into the snow knee-deep) and the snow melt was so strong that we had to readjust our hiking plans. Cascade Brook was so powerful and out of control, that we would have not been able to cross it at all (which is what the hike required) For those of you who do whitewater rafting, these were class 5 rapids! It was stunningly beautiful though, and we did have a nice hike, which was celebrated later with a nice home-cooked meal (organic salmon with roasted fingerling potatoes and zucchini, snap peas, and a prime salad with a made-from scratch vinaigrette courtesy of Birgit).

Time to go to sleep now, I am pretty tired and we want to head over to see the Presidentials tomorrow. We learned that the Cog Railway up Mt Washington runs all year around, and maybe we'll take a little trip. I am a member of the observatory and maybe we'll even get a tour. Stay tuned for further updates.

Ready for some zzzzs.

pet:)

#44 Boston - Hooters and Laserbeams - April 12, 2008

That sounds like a promising headline, doesn't it? Well, let's see if I can live up to it.

First of all, greetings from sunny San Diego (http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&q=San+Diego&gbv=2), where the outside temperature is above 80 degrees, and the temperature in the convention center probably sub-zero, so you can imagine the challenges when it comes to dressing appropriately. I have to say though, it is one of the most accessible conference centers I have ever been to, and not only because it is right a block and a half from my hotel, but also because it has an outside terrace, which especially the contingent from the Northeast seemed to enjoy quite a bit. I overheard a woman say there today, "My neck is burning, but I don't care" to which I replied - "you must be from Boston" (I was right).

This is my first visit to San Diego, and aside from the temperature shock (I have not experienced 80 degrees since last August), it is quite a lovely place. My hotel, the Marriott, is located in the historic Gaslamp District (http://images.google.com/images?gbv=2&hl=en&q=San+Diego+Gaslamp+Quarter), and also within striking distance (no pun intended) of the baseball park (http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&q=Petco+Park&gbv=2). From my window I can literally see the seats, and this will make my travel to Tuesday night's game(courtesy of the conference) between the Padres (home team) and the Colorado Rockies (the guys the Red Sox beat in the World Series last year) a very quick walk to the park. Guess, I'll be cheering for the home team.

The Gaslamp District is an absolutely charming part of town, stretching about 17 blocks or so, and was developed in 1867, when 5th Street was chosen as a main street as San Diego made plans to have a center closer to the Bay (which I can also see from my window). It is listed in the National Register of Historic Places, and includes a total of 94 historic buildings, most of them Victorian - restaurants, galleries, theaters, you name it, this is the happening place in town.

First thing Friday night, I ran into my friend Mat Leese from the UK, and we quickly toured the Gaslamp Quarter and then decided on a restaurant, and let me tell you, I was glad we picked Bandar, a Persian restaurant, over the Hooters that was located on the next corner (even though I had this strange desire to check out and see if the women there were really as well endowed as the rumors have it). Bandar (http://www.bandarrestaurant.com/) was fantastic, to say the least - Mat chose the Chicken Shish Kabab and I opted for Fesenjan, a chicken stew - simmered chicken in sweet flavored pomegranate sauce with finely crushed walnuts. This was by far the best Persian Food I have ever tasted, and the portions there were more than generous. After walking around some more, and checking out galleries and stores, we ended the evening on a nice note at Rockin' Baja (http://www.rockinbaja.com/) with a nice treat for the margarita-deprived Mat (apparently this is not a big item in the UK) and a virgin mango daiquiri the size of a watermelon for yours truly.

Today, in the only three touristy hours I will enjoy for the next five days, I snuck out for a long lunch to visit the USS Midway Museum (http://www.midway.org/site/pp.asp?c=eeIGLLOrGpF&b=3038957) which is a 986 foot-long aircraft carrier located at San Diego Bay. Now, many of you may not know how obsessed I am with aircraft carriers, and so I could not help myself to hoof it over there and check it out. Let me tell you, this is one fantastic experience! Carriers of this type were first commissioned in 1945 and basically served until the end of the Gulf War (at least this one did). It held up to 130 aircraft, including hornets, F-14 Tomcats, S-3 Viking Submarine jets, and AV-8 Harrier Jump Jets, just to name a few. The guided tour leads you up to the flight deck, you can have a chat with a couple of Veterans who served on the Midway (hi Stan!), and then you can explore the whole area below the hangar, including sick bay, mess halls, officer's quarters, bomb elevators; you can sit in one of those simulators, where you would experience how it would be to fly a fighter jet, and which would be a surefire way to make me throw up, so I definitely passed on that one.

Tomorrow the conference will kick into high gear, so busy times ahead. Haha, funny - actually the time leading up to my departure for San Diego was not any less hectic, and resulted again in my slaughtering the English language (I promised Stephanie to bring her back some "laser beams" from the conference - laser pointers was what I meant), and another fun evening Tuesday night, when I went out with my friend Linda to check out a new restaurant near Kendall Square, ended in unplanned hodgepodge. The restaurant, first of all, is fabu, you must check it out! Called "Hungry Mother" (http://www.hungrymothercambridge.com/) it definitely gives Southern cuisine a high-end nod and a good kick into the league of Cambridge's must-eateries. I chose a salad with beets, blood oranges in a lemon-thyme vinaigrette, collard greens and a Serrano Ham made in Virginia that was to die for, and Linda opted for the Cornmeal Catfish, collards, Carolina gold rice middlins (http://www.ansonmills.com/page19/page49/cgrgrits.html) and a mustard-caper vinaigrette. The hectic part of the evening started when I realized I was missing my wallet - after looking everywhere, my basket, my purse, under the table, who knows where else, I decided there were only two places where the wallet could possibly be, else I would be up a certain creek. A few frantic phone calls later, my late-working colleague Stanley found the darn thing on the floor of my office and all was well. Of course when I came home, wallet and all, I realized I also had packed in my dinner napkin from the restaurant, so if they are one short, here's the reason. I promise to wash it, bring it back and maybe offer some restitution in the form of a batch of home-baked cookies.

Monday night I had also been out, and if you think the three theater plays the week before would keep me out of the artsy scene, you were wrong. My colleague Stanley (the above-mentioned rescuer of wallets) and I headed for a fundraiser for the Lyric Stage Company. Actually it was a combo fundraiser/ celebration for the 10th anniversary of Spiros Veloudos, the artistic director, who turned this little theater into one of Boston's most favored cultural venues. This evening was fantastic, and thanks to Stanley I got to meet quite a few of the actors, including Peter Carey (who played John Adams in the musical 1776) and my personal favorite Christopher Chew (who I have such a crush on, I admit it publicly - http://villagetheatreproject.org/a/company/chewc.html). Aside from the reception, a silent auction (where I did not win anything - but I did walk away with quite a nice goodie bag, because I bought some blinking plastic thingy for $25), there was a revue of Spiros' favorite musical songs performed by all of his favorite actors. It was quite simply wonderful!!

And if you really want to know, last Sunday, as promised, I did nothing, lolled around on the couch, reading, knitting, watching sub-par movies, whatever one does on a not-so-nice day in Boston. Temperatures, aside from one freakish 70-degree day, are still lingering in the 40s and 50s, but we can feel that spring is right around the corner. It has to be, or else bad things may happen.

I will be here in Sandy Eggo until Wednesday (Oscar is vacationing in Watertown with his animal friends Marge and Highway, and his human friends Ellen and Patrick), and on Thursday my friend Birgit will visit from Germany for a few days. Stay tuned for tales from that upcoming adventure.

I have to head out now for some chow, and assemble a group of dinner companions, which I think may include two women from Scotland, my friend and colleague Katja from Germany, and a fellow Cambridge resident, who I just met in a boutique trying on hats. There may be other people as well, one never knows at these conferences. Maybe we'll end up at Hooters after all.

pet:)

#43 Boston - Between you and me and the Grass on the Prairie - April 6 08

Creativity with the English Language
The Petraisms this week just kept on coming – maybe because it was a stressful week and when my brain cannot handle any more tasks it starts getting creative with the English language - “Between you and me and the grass on the prairie” was a new one, as I was talking to a friend about a confidential issue, “we're cooking with oil!” (why just cook with gas I say) and last but not least “I have an allergy behind me” (which was actually meant to be that I had an allergy against some earring studs behind my ears, but since I was pointing wildly to my ears, my conversation partners did figure out what I meant….)

Busy Season
It has been a very, very busy week – I have had the hardest time ever to peel myself out of bed every morning - at work March through June/July is the most active season, littered with conferences in between regular tasks, and I am actually heading off to the another conference next Friday to hopefully sunny San Diego (we do not see the sun much up here in the Northeast these days). It is the annual meeting of the American Association for Cancer Research (AACR) – you may remember last year I went to Los Angeles for the event, and it will be good to mix and mingle with 13,000 people, won’t it? That oughta reduce my stress level.

Ground Zero, Round Two
So, last week – starting off Sunday with more work at “Ground Zero”, Ruth and George’s nickname for their partially burned down apartment – more salvageable items to be moved to either their new temporary apartment or to mine and other people’s basements. There was tons of work to be done, but on the positive side, it really introduced me to the culinary world around Coolidge Corner, where both their to-be-repaired and their temporary housing are located. A couple of weeks ago, during our first time clean-up, we headed to a very nice Vietnamese place, Pho Lemongrass on Harvard Street (http://pholemongrass.com/) and this past week, we opted for Mr Sushi, also located on Harvard Street. Mr Sushi offered some very delectable Japanese food, excellent seaweed salad and a wasabi that may have cleared up even the most chronic of sinus infections.

Not one Friggin Call!!
Once I headed home on Sunday armed with a few more storage boxes, it was time to clean up and head out to Brighton to go to WGBH, Boston’s own public radio and TV station (http://www.wgbh.org/) to join a small contingent of Community Running volunteers and a whole pile of other people in helping out during their spring pledge drive. First of all, this is a very cool place (http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/19/arts/design/19pols.html?_r=1&oref=slogin) totally new and modern, state of the art television and radio facilities, and it features some pretty nifty things, as we discovered on our tour following the volunteer stint. Their gift shop actually slides in and out of a wall, there are binary numbers projected on the floor for reasons I could not figure out, and at some point we did lose our tour guide, and assumed that maybe she also slid back into the wall, just like the gift shop.

It was a fascinating experience to see live television (or partially live television) hands-on. For my European friends, who may not be familiar with the concept of pledge drives; stations like WBGH are so-called public television stations, which means they receive their all or most of their funding from the public, foundations, some state subsidies through taxes. Quite a few of them started out as small outfits started at universities. Their programming is focused on education, cultural events, addresses global issues, and features programs with a good chunk of intelligence and diversity. My American friends of course know that this is the station that is home to “Car Talk”, the nutty radio show with “Click and Clack, the Tappet Brothers”, in my mind, the most brilliant radio show ever (and still made) - http://www.cartalk.com/.

So here is how the pledge drive works, the station shows some kind of cultural programming, for example Pete Seeger or Luciano Pavarotti, but in our case it unfortunately was “The Celtic Thunder” (http://www.wliw.org/productions/celtic_thunder.html) or as one of the station’s staffer referred to it “Ireland’s Answer to Menudo” (the boy band, not the soup). These segments are interrupted by TV personalities asking you to send in funds, and then you will receive a gift of your choice from a variety of programs. Us volunteers sit at computers that take us through every step of the way of processing the donations, what to say and what to type in etc. Apparently this was not my night; I did not receive ONE friggin phone call, not one!! The phones and computers around me kept ringing of the hook, but mine, nothing, not even a beep. Actually there was a beep, and it did look as if there was a caller, but then the system flashed a little sign, saying “caller hung up before you could answer”. Well, excuse me for not being one of the Fantastic Four and answering faster than two seconds!!! I could have raised millions and millions of dollars with that accommodating, outgoing, bubbly personality of mine, don’t you think? We did raise a good chunk of money that night, so all was well, even without my help.

Bike/TV Update
With a week like that how can I make it to the gym? I think a different approach may be in order – I might have to get up at 5 AM and head to the gym early every morning before work. Not quite sure if that is physically possible, but I may give it a try. I did make it Monday night for my weekly bike/TV session and again, despite being armed with the resolution not to succumb to addictive programming, I ended up watching a millionaire dating show and (much better, you must admit) “Top Chef Chicago”. Time on the bike: 1 hour 30 minutes (maybe it was 2 hours, can’t remember)

Three Plays in Three Days
I actually attended three theater plays three nights in a row, and all of them were splendid – starting off Thursday night, where my friend Hannah and I ushered at the Lyric Stage Company for Edward Albee’s (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Albee) “Three Tall Women” – one of the most well acted plays I have seen in a while. Now 80 years old, Albee is one of the quintessential American playwrights, with his most famous work of course being “Whose Afraid of Virginia Wolf?” “Three Tall Women”, the play we saw, won him the Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 1994, and is a well crafted stage play, with two very distinct acts. Three women, reflecting three different generations, are basically the same person – in Act One, the focus is on the women when she is in her 80s, suffers from Alzheimer’s and swings back and forth between reflections of mistakes made in her life, traumatic experiences suffered and happy times experienced. In Act 2 the three versions of the same women discuss the life they/she had, and it ends with the note that whatever journey your life leads you through, when you are at the end of it, “That’s the happiest moment. When it’s all done. When we stop. When we can stop”. My breath was taken away by Anne Scurria, who played the oldest of the three women, her performance was more than award-worthy, and when I saw her post-performance, I almost did not recognize her, the transformation was amazing. What an achievement! If you are in Boston, you must go and see it.

Play Number two, which you should also go and see, is “Much Ado About Nothing” performed by Theatre@First, a community acting group, who stages their plays at the First Congregational Church in Somerville (http://www.theatreatfirst.org/shows/much_ado/much_ado.shtml ). My friend and colleague Renee is part of this group, and I have seen almost all of their performances over the past three years. You will enjoy this version of the Shakespeare play – well arranged with a central stage and the audience surrounding it, it was cast extremely well, and played light, funny and such a great diversion which was much needed in my case Friday night. It was one of those “Days From Hell” – created by a tight and way-too-early schedule and enhanced by serial incompetence of the secretarial staff of several renowned Boston medical institutions and I am not naming names. Anyway, if you are have time see them this afternoon (hurry, it is at 3PM) or next weekend, this is a worthwhile experience.

Play Number Three was staged by the Mystic Players (http://www.mysticplayers.org/) in Medford where our friend Irene performed in a wonderful production of “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” – again, one of the local community acting groups that deserves your attention if you live around here (go see them!). Irene was spectacularly evil as Nurse Ratched and we told her boyfriend Dave to watch out should she ever bring home some strange electrical equipment or white jackets whose sleeves may appear just a wee bit too long.

My Dates and Days With Ellen
My friend Ellen has been what we call a “straw widow” in Germany (I guess there is an English term “grass widow” that refers to the same scenario) – her husband was out of town for a while. The term actually derives from the German Goethe play “Faust” – straw relates to the bed, and the character Marthe complains “And he leaves me alone on the straw”. So poor Ellen was alone, sans husband and dog, and the “Let’s Keep Ellen Entertained” program commenced last Saturday evening when we headed off to Watertown to the New Ginza restaurant, one of my favorite Japanese restaurants in the Boston Area.

This weekend, we started out with a volunteer stint through Boston Cares (http://www.bostoncares.org/) at the Bridge Home, which is an emergency shelter for children newborn to 12 years old that have been neglected or abused. Accompanied by social workers and staff, we did some arts and crafts with the kids, this time making mosaics (with construction paper on the back of paper plates), and apparently, wouldn’t you know it, I am a professional artist!! This was loudly proclaimed by one of the kids who was not quite convinced that the volunteer who helped him draw, was up to par with my drawing skills. Now most of you know that I cannot draw anything to save my life (except a box or a square maybe), but thanks to Ellen who brought along templates, I apparently was at least better than a four year old boy and that other volunteer. I’ll take my small accomplishments…. One of my new little friends and I made shark mosaics, and we actually managed to make two plates with two sharks, both named Nick. The little guy insisted that each shark had just gobbled up someone and so we needed to draw blood dripping out of its mouth, but aside from that slightly morbid aspect it was a lovely mosaic and he was very proud of them when we parted ways.

The volunteer event was followed by a driving tour through Boston for Ellen and myself (meaning we got lost – apparently we could not find our way out of Dorchester and drove around Roxbury for a while (yes, we did have the doors locked), and then by some miracle found our way to the Back Bay and subsequently had to drive back to Watertown. We met up with fellow volunteers Ram and Rachel for a meal at Panera Bread and then went for some shopping at the Arsenal Mall. This then just left us enough time to head back to Ellen’s, throw in one Episode of “Sex and the City” and then zip out again to meet Ellen’s sister Amy and her husband Dana for Japanese food at the Yoki Restaurant at Station Landing in Medford. The food was excellent, but a quick note on parking there – there is the T stop parking garage ($3, so no biggie), but apparently there is also a free parking garage, only no one can find it. But if you do find it, IT IS FREE. After that it was off to Irene’s play and needless to say, I had a lot of sleeping to do this morning.

I have been trying to catch up a little bit on my reading (for the book group – current selection “Dirty Job” by Christopher Moore) and movies. I can definitely recommend “Curse of the Golden Flower” and am currently nursing my way through “Gun Fight at the OK Corral” – I used to not like Westerns that much but have taken a liking to them lately, and just like the Film Noir movies, this genre has its unique language. I just love the way they talk in these old flicks, and my newest favorite tag line (that I may use on occasion) is “Where is that yellow-livered skunk”?

On that note, I gotta get going – no plans, but I have to do some relaxing and not sit on a computer….

Hope this finds you all well.

Pet

#42 Boston - Odyssey on the Tarmac -

I seem to have a knack for picking flight itineraries that either turn into mini disasters or at least some kind of irksome adventure – this time demonstrated by my flight to Washington, DC on Thursday evening. My fellow travelers and I bound for our nation’s capital had expected an on-time departure as promised, but at some point when a not very official looking, uniform-less flight mechanic sort came to the microphone and announced that we had no plane, but there was one in a hanger somewhere they could dig out, we raised our eye brows just a wee bit in concern. “There is time”, we thought, and settled back into those comfortable airport seats of ours. As the departure time approached, we did get a wee bit more worried, and this increasing discomfort was not alleviated when another guy (this one was wearing a uniform, even though he could have been anybody and stolen the darn thing) informed us that our plane-to-be had left the hangar about 15 minutes ago and should be at our gate shortly. They were not quite sure where the jet was at the present time, and as far as we knew, the bird either got lost somewhere driving around the Logan runway or had planned to drive down to DC and was currently heading down Interstate 93 in search of the Mass Turnpike.



A little after 7 PM, which was our originally scheduled departure time (or maybe it was much later, I certainly had no idea), the wayward plane did show up, and to be honest, the look of it did not inspire a lot of confidence. It resembled a car that had been driving around Boston for too long with all the scrapes and dents that come along with trying to drive in that car-friendly Commonwealth of ours. Nevertheless we got in, settled down and eagerly anticipated our flight to DC. We started coasting toward the runway, but then stopped fairly soon and at this point the pilot informed us that there was a “systems” issue, nothing to worry about of course, but they better run some checks before we head up 33,000 feet. I can safely say that all the passengers agreed with him at this point, and we went back to our respective books, magazines, newspapers, I-Pods, cell phones, and whatever else we were playing with.



15 Minutes later the captain confidently and with a certain contagious enthusiasm announced that “our little problem” was fixed and we were ready to go. Joy spread across the plane like wild fire – we were off!! Wrrongggggg!!! Half-a-mile down the runway, we stopped again, and while we had hoped that this was simply because we were in the take-off queue, quite the opposite was true. In what can only be described as a deja vu-groundhog-day-ish weirdness that followed, our friend, the captain gave yet another speech, telling us that the “little problem” had re-emerged and that we wound now head back to the gate to get us a new plane, which apparently was waiting for us already at gate B-16. Our expectations that this would actually happen was not a confident one, but miracles of miracles, it was!! I have never been moved from one plane to another that quickly. All systems seemed to be working in the new plane and from that moment on everything moved at warp speed. We finally made it to Bethesda, Maryland, our final destination, a bit after 11 PM, dead tired, only to have to get up again at 6:30 to start attending the conference and listen to scientific presentations (preferably with my eyes open).



Not that the few days before where any more restful or devoid of hectic. Wednesday night, at 9 PM, I not only had to pack but also zip down to Braintree, a city south of Boston to meet up with my tax accountant, who is a tad on the unconventional side, but very affordable and brilliantly fast, and within one hour (no kidding), she was done, the forms were all sent to the IRS electronically and I was spared the nervous breakdown I would have suffered had I attempted to do this myself. I (and my bank account) were very pleased with the outcome of the returns and it looks like the trip to New Zealand in the fall is definitely going to happen.



Thursday before I left, I hosted a pharma company, and was on my feet all day long, shuttling from one end of town to the other, and finally to the airport, and honestly it does not help if the cab driver, who seemed to have acquired his license by finding it in a cereal box, is an expert at jerking the car back and forth every few seconds and the chance of my discharging my lunch in his car (which I am sure he would have not appreciated) increased with every second. Come to think of it, there should be classes for cab drivers, “Anti-Nausea Driving 101”, “How to say Hello”, just to name a couple, which would definitely help to sway my opinion of these insane vehicle operators toward the positive.



Other evenings this week were spent with tax preparations, and a most memorable visit to the gym, where yet again, I got sucked in big time by the mesmerizing selection of TV programming on my exercise bike. God knows I need it (the exercise, not the TV programming), but after 2 hours of watching “Project Runway” I thought the gym staff had to get me off the bike with a pry bar. This is so pathetic.



Speaking of mesmerizing, the conference itself was not quite as dazzling as I had hoped, but it was good and professionally important, so there you go. Of note was the fact, that quite a few presenters used the word “whammy” in their scientific lectures, even on occasion with its favorite prefix “double”. In one of my favorite moments during the conference, one of my fellow attendees, previously located a row ahead of me, with a terrified and repulsed look on her face, suddenly sought refuge on the seat next to me. Apparently the at-first-glance distinguished looking gentleman in front of her emitted some kind of odors, definitely on the unpleasant side, not the slightest bit distinguished, and according to my new friend Meena, he “smelled as if he had been constipated for years” and that “a whole whammy of bamboo shoots would do him a lot of good.” We kept ourselves amused during the entire session by seeing conference participants aiming for the spare seat next to Mister Smelly, sitting down and after a few seconds looking around with that same terrified look on their faces, grab their backpacks and quickly aim for a section with better sensory stimuli and decent air quality.



Another highlight, less on the anecdotal side, was that the wonderfully kind organizers of the conference (with a little friendly nudging of my colleague and friend Michel) invited me to the “President’s Dinner” Friday night, which took place at the most magnificent Georgian mansion, the Strathmore in North Bethesda (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Strathmore_mansion2.jpg). Originally, the turn-of-the century (19th to 20th) historic building started out as a music center and over the course of its history, performances by small chamber ensembles, formal tea parties and gallery exhibits brought this spectacular building to life. Nestled just a little below the mansion, the 190,000 square foot, 1976-seating Music Center was established in 2005, and assumed the role of the premiere concert hall and musical education center in the area. It hosts more than 150 concerts per year and 75 arts and education classes. (http://www.strathmore.org/)



It was a charming evening, with a stroll through the gallery, a most delectable meal and several “speeches from the heart”. My section at the table was quite international, actually mostly European, and featured representation from Greece, Germany and France. The nice Chateau-Neuf du Pape wine must have had quite an impact on the dinner guests, as we saw a few of them scribbling ideas for clinical trials on the back of some of the menu cards. Life seemed good. Of course, many of us have had good ideas at one point or another during a wine-infused evening, only to later discover that whatever we wrote on the dinner napkin made no sense at all.



So - I actually wore this update earlier this afternoon with a bit of time to spare at Ronald Reagan Airport in DC, which is actually quite a nice airport except for the fact that you cannot understand a single announcement on the overhead system. You have to listen very carefully, and should you by mere chance or miracle decipher your destination name in the midst of a whole lot of gibberish you better get to your gate and check. Else you could be sitting there for days.



Tomorrow I will be helping out my friends Ruth and Georges, whose fabulous apartment in Brookline got seriously smoke damaged when a house next door to theirs burned down last weekend. So a whole gang of us are having a packaging and recovery fest with plastic containers, latex gloves and some nice high calorie breakfast foods.



Happy Easter to all of you bunnies!



Pet:)

#41 Boston - The Melting Continues - March 16, 2008

This time the appliance in question was not an oven, but a microwave, and even though I had strict instructions not to go anywhere near the Simmons’ family microwave up in Franconia, I happened to be in charge of dinner. So I just had to use the opportunity when no one was looking and melt something (some of you may rememb once made smoke coming out of the microwave and on another occasion exploded egg whites all over the poor little machine and thus was permanently prohibited from using any major appliances in the TImberlane home). The object to be melted this time was a Tupperware, and not one of those flimsy ones that would melt by you just looking at them; it did seem quite solid, and I swear Tupperware of this kind has been successfully heated up in microwaves around the world before. I cannot tell you for the life of me what was different about this one, possibly some inherent weakness not visible even to the trained eye, who knows. After a mere three minutes of trying to heat up a most delicious cauliflower-walnut soup I had made earlier, the plastic container in question looked as if a truck had hit it head on, and it took quite some finesse and skill to pry it open and rescue the soup. Despite some efforts of trying to push out the dent just as a car mechanic would to with a distorted fender, there was no help for the poor little repository and its only chance to escape death by recycling may be some use as a paint pail. A sad end to a promising career I must say, from culinary receptacle to turpentine hopper – and all of it is my fault, of course.



What made it even worse was that it was not even my Tupperware I melted (what else did you expect?), but one belonging to a friend of mine – and I am not naming names here – but this friend will receive a brand-spanking new plastic container soon. I am sure all of you are quite excited by now, and have a hard time containing yourselves. Could it be me?

Despite this second melting incident in a row, I seem to have escaped unharmed, no cut-up fingertips, no bleeding all over the place, that sort of thing. I have been reasonably healthy and quite content, and what is even more important, so has my heel. I can now report four weeks of being pain-free from my plantar fasciitis. I have snow-shoed twice in the past three weeks, have hiked along Crane Beach, and topped it off today with downhill skiing at Waterville Valley.


My good friend and time-honored hiking buddy Rick and I, accompanied by the best hiking dog of them all (Phoebe), headed up north Saturday afternoon in search of snow and fun. We did have Tenney Mountain in mind originally, either for tubing or to watch the cardboard derby, alas, due to a busy week and supported by liberal doses of Valium prescribed by my doctor, I hard a pretty hard time peeling myself out of bed, and by the time we got on the road, we simply decided on a snow shoe hike. This turned out to be one of the highlights of the weekend (maybe second only to the melting incident) – we stopped at The Basin at Franconia Notch (http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&q=The+Basin+Franconia+Notch&gbv=2 – ignore the picture with the skein of wool, no idea what that has to do with anything) and snow shoed it up the Cascade Trail up to the Kinsman Waterfall (http://www.northeastwaterfalls.com/waterfall.php?num=196&p=0) . It was a pretty swell hike to say the least – water, snow and ice delighted in the most amazing formations, and the waterfall which was frozen solid, was just simply stunning.


The evening was spent in Franconia in very low key fashion, after a dinner that could have fed a platoon of soldiers, Rick and I both fell into a diabetic coma and while trying to watch an episode of the fabulous British series “Inspector Morse” both of us nodded off on our respective sofas, and neither of us could remember anything about the show. As a matter of fact, Sunday morning I was still so narcoleptic that I did not grasp the fact that the digital clock in my bedroom had not yet assumed daylight savings time. I thought it was 6 AM and kept wondering why Rick and Phoebe were rummaging around downstairs. We had originally planned to get up at seven to get to the ski slopes early, but thinking it was 6:30 AM when I peeled myself out of bed, I strolled comfortably in my pajamas downstairs, made a cup of tea, and did not know what do to with Rick’s slightly worried face, until I finally realized that I was just a wee bit behind the times (one hour to be exact) and better get myself in gear.


I stepped it up a bit and we hoofed it down to Waterville Valley, where a day of downhill skiing was on the agenda. Now due to my foot problems over the past eight months, I had not been able to go skiing as much as I wanted (despite all the fabulous snow up north), but I was so glad I went. I started off a little wimpy, Jell-O legs and all, and due to the valium felt a just a bit lightheaded, but after a solid warm up period on the easy slopes, I was good to go. I have to say a big thank you to Rick today, who taught me a lot, and at the end of the day I went home a proud little skier (of course it may be a little depressing that Rick’s niece Caroline who is 4 and just about reaches up to my knees, told me that she was doing black diamond runs…….).


It has been a busy week, full of culinary events (which is not really supportive of those plans of mine to get back in fighting shape, but I am working on it, and went to the gym twice at least). Wednesday night, my friend Ruth and I had a girl’s night out and headed to Ole Mexican Grill (http://www.olegrill.com/) near Inman Square, and I could kick myself for having lived near this neighborhood and never been there. It’s a crime I say!! The place is fantastic – the interior dipped in warm and inviting colors, the dishes heavenly delish – we are talking upscale Mexican cuisine – what a wonderful experience! The guacamole is made fresh for you on the table in one of those stone pots and absolutely divine; Ruth had duck with mole sauce, and I had some spicy pork dish with cilantro rice. Bottom Line: I must go back there, soon.

Thursday night, dinner group number two, “The Lab Rats”, consisting of the charming trio of Susan, Georgiana and Hannah livened up my home – the motto for the night was Italian food. Hannah delighted with an artichoke dip, Georgiana dazzled with a spinach-fennel-blood-orange, pecorinso cheese and roasted pine nuts salad, yours truly made “Pasta Con Salsa did Zucchini con Ricotta” and Susan, who is half Italian, delighted with some Italian lemon cookies whose name I forgot, but they were absolutely wonderful.

My friends, it is bed time, got to go get some zzzzzs. A busy week looms ahead, big pipeline presentation this Thursday and the same evening I am hopping on a plane to Washington, DC. I will be spending a couple of days in Bethesda, Maryland for a conference on targeted anticancer therapies and upon my return Saturday afternoon, I plan on sleeping at least 16 hours.

Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.



PetJ

#40 Boston - Meltdown - March 10, 2008

Well, here I was on Thursday afternoon working from home, plugging away, and feeling good about life in general. I was expecting the book group for that evening and during my lunch break had started the prep work for the quiche that I planned to bake later in the day. Once work was complete, I heated up that little oven of mine, only to notice a slightly odd smell a wee bit later. For the next few minutes a struggle ensued in my brain trying to either ignore the smell or really figuring out what it was. Eventually I did remember that along with my muffin trays, baking sheets and other implements designed to be in an oven and withstand high temperatures, I also had stored a white plastic serving tray in there, simply because it did not fit anywhere else. I shot over to the oven like a bat out of hell, grabbed some oven mitts, and then pulled the newly-melted-together plastic-tray-construct, and chucked it out of the house, quickly.

Hmmmh, I thought what now? First, investigate the damage. Check on Oscar to see if the toxic fumes did not kill him. Oscar alive and well, good. At this point I had about an hour and a half left for dinner club preparation. I needed at least one rack to make a quiche so grabbed some small razor blades and started scraping off the plastic which had now hardened. I should have just left it at that. But did I? Noooooo. Determined to also clean up rack number 2 which contained a majority of the melted plastic, I grabbed a hammer and went outside to bang the bejesus out of the rack. So far, so good, seemed to actually work, But then that darn German fastidiousness kicked in and I was determined to get all of the plastic of the rack. This could have easily being accomplished by putting the rack flat on the ground and applying some more hammering action, however I decided to use he razor blades again, which proved no match whatsoever for the plastic that had now the consistency of concrete. You know what comes now, right? I cut myself very skillfully on at least three fingertips, ran around the house like a chicken with its head cut off bleeding all over the place, and trying to put on band aids. Let me tell you, that is not an easy feat when three of your digits bleed at the same time. Eventually, and just as I did manage to get myself bandaged up, it hit me that the next day I had an appointment at the US Immigration Service for fingerprinting. Good thing I am taking valium (I am not kidding here; the doctor prescribed it to get rid of my lower abdominal spasms). Actually the valium was probably what made me forget the darn plastic tray in the oven in the first place.

By the time the book group arrived, I at least had made salad and the quiche was ready to go into the oven, but I was a wee bit out of sorts and ordered my charming book group members around to help with whatever else needed to be done, and I am sure they gladly did so (no fun when the book club host is bleeding from her hands and close to a nervous breakdown). The book group evening ended up being a big success after all; we had some vary spirited discussions, some of which actually had to do with the book, so life was good.

Of course I spend all day Friday fretting about the appointment at the immigration services, but turns out the cuts were not that bad and a bit out of the way. I slapped antibiotic ointment on them just about every 30 minutes, and come early afternoon you would have had to look really hard to find them. In addition they had some pretty sophisticated equipment there, laser scanners and all (very CSI), and it all worked out well. Again, I have to say praises for the Boston-based application service center, and maybe there was a little good karma in there for me as well, but the place was practically deserted and I was in and out in 10 minutes, no kidding. So now I have to simply wait for the next step in the process, which will be the interview. Exciting indeed!


Last weekend I wrote to you from New Hampshire where we experienced winter at its most beautiful. (As opposed to this weekend, where it rained bucket after bucket, and of course a little flood appeared in my basement yet again). Saturday night our friends Susan and Brian stopped by and all of us congregated for a vicious game of Parcheesi. Now this was my first time playing this game, and I think the instructions on the inside of the cover were written in Hindi, since Rick’s translations did not all make sense, and the rules seem to change constantly, generally not in my favor. I did not trust any of my opponents who actually once let me move past my goal line, and probably made me do the whole loop twice. No wonder I never win at these games. Tssss!


Sunday morning, Rick and Denise headed off for some more cross-country skiing near the lovely Franconia Inn (http://www.franconiainn.com/) while Phoebe and I took a snow shoe walk around the neighborhood, stomping through some nice deep snow and having a nice and relaxing time. In the afternoon, the four of us headed off to Crawford Notch to do a little more snowshoeing, this time up to Ripley Falls. Heralded as one of New Hampshire’s tallest waterfalls (http://www.northeastwaterfalls.com/waterfall.php?num=336&p=0 ), it has been a destination of our little hiking group many a times, but never before had we gone there in winter. We almost missed the approach route, as it was completely blocked by a wall of snow, and only a few brave souls before us had attempted to go up there. It was such a wonderful snow shoe adventure – we did have some trail blazing to do, but eventually got to the partially frozen falls, and enjoyed this little slice of winter beauty. We did spent Sunday evening up in Franconia and sadly had to leave Monday morning to return to our respective work responsibilities.







I have made some attempts to make it to the gym more often this week, and ended up succeeding twice. In particular I would like to highlight Wednesday night where I did my first spinning class in 8 months and let me tell you I did walk a little funny heading out of the gym, sort of like a drunken sailor on shore leave. Good reminder that I definitely need to do this more often.


This weekend, on account of the crappy weather which did not allow for a lot of outdoor time, we did make it out for a wonderful hike to Crane Beach, which is a dynamite place. I love beaches in winter, with the waves crashing down, and the wind blowing the sand up in little mini-tornadoes. Crane Beach, located near Ipswich, Mass(http://www.thetrustees.org/pages/294_crane_beach.cfm) is part of the Trustees of the Reservations, whose mission it is to preserve beautiful spots of land such as this one. There is a five mile hike through the dunes near the beach, which is stunningly wonderful with its sandy-color dunes and sparse vegetation. Aside from the fact that we got caught in the pouring rain during the second half of the excursion (of course I was wearing jeans and looked like a wet poodle afterward), it was a lovely hike. A very delicious lunch was consumed at the Gloucester House (http://www.thegloucesterhouse.com/aboutme.htm) at the historic Seven Seas Wharf in, you guessed right, Gloucester.


Since the weather showed no signs of improvement, it was time to retreat to the couch afterward, and embark on the lofty goal of watching the entire seventh season of CSI (which I did manage to do successfully, even though I did have to watch a couple of episodes twice, since I kept nodding off (the valium is doing its job, apparently) and I could for the life of me not remember if I had seen them or not. Of course the darn last episode ends with one of the “To Be Continued” cliffhangers, which means, I have to figure out quickly if Season 8 is available on DVD. This stuff is like crack; I may have become a serious CSI junkie….


I needed to get out of the house a bit, so I joined Hannah, Holly and visiting New York-ite Meg for brunch at the oh-so-noisy, but oh-so-tasty East Coast Grill and Raw Bar (not to confuse with the East Side Bar and Grille, which is located a short walk from my house) for some very delectable brunch (NY Steak, with scrambled eggs, some kind of spicy peppers and hominy for yours truly) - http://eastcoastgrill.net/ , followed by a quick visit to Christina’s Spice and Specialty Shop – a fabulous place for a cookaholic like myself. I bought green bamboo rice from China, red quinoa, a brown rice from some obscure region of the Philippines, Vietnamese cinnamon, dried chives and curry leaves. Wonderful place this is, I could spend all my money on spices from distant countries, no matter if I would know what do with it.


Oh my goodness, it is horrendously late. I am blaming daylight savings time and the fact that I was sorting out paper work all day today to prepare for my taxes.


Gotta go to sleep now. Tomorrow night is another spinning class, and I do not want be caught slouched over the front of the bike drooling.


Hope this finds you all well.



PetJ



Oh,oh, and I must mention that my neighborhood finally has a decent Chinese place. Called Wisteria House, it actually relocated from Boston’s fancy Newbury Street, and has completely transformed the retail space that was previously inhabited by the worst Chinese restaurants known to mankind.