Weather just doesn't want to be normal

Today's weather alert, brought to you by the weatherchannel.com:

ALTHOUGH IT IS NOT PRESENTLY EXPECTED THAT IT WILL GET AS HOT AS IT DID DURING OUR BRIEF HEAT WAVE ABOUT A WEEK AGO... IT WILL NONETHELESS BE SIGNIFICANTLY WARMER THAN HAS BEEN CASE THE PAST SEVERAL DAYS... AND OVER THIS SUMMER SEASON IN GENERAL. PLEASE DO REMEMBER TO NEVER LEAVE CHILDREN AND PETS IN AN AUTOMOBILE... BEAT THE HEAT CHECK THE BACK SEAT! 

First of all, it's going to be 90 or so where I am, and I think that's only in the direct sunlight.  It's damn cool in the shade (well, it was last week).  I understand that if you go further inland, it is hotty hot hot everywhere, but it's not here, and that annoys me.

Second, who wrote this?  Maybe it's just me (probably), but the way all of this is phrased just strikes me as funny.  The temperature is going up! But not as much as it did almost a week ago in what we will call a "heat wave"!  And also it will be warmer than it has been since the days after the heat wave not so long ago!  Or all summer!  I can only speak for the 3 weeks of "summer" we've experienced here, but they have been so far from summer that I have gotten used to it and I am actually enjoying it being fall-like.  It makes for less sweaty biking experiences, but also fewer swimming excursions.  People, there is a 5 dollar admission pool in a place called Strawberry Canyon, and it's my goal to get all sweaty riding my bike up there at some point this summer just so I can actually go swimming.  I have not been swimming all summer.  And this was a horribly humid mess of a summer in NY.  Woe is me and what a cruel world we live in.

I'm not complaining, except that I do get frustrated when it's supposed to be 65 on Sunday.  That's my weekend, Mother Earth.  I need some warmth.

Shhhh

They have to rest, then chill in the fridge overnight. If they are half as good as they are made out to be in this recipe, I shall be a happy woman.

Noise then vs. Noise now

Noise then was the C-Town (town town) delivery truck pulling in at 11 pm and idling for an hour.
Noise then was the garbage truck for C-Town pulling in at midnight and idling for another 1/2 hour.
Noise then was the occasional MTA subway cleaning machine, or something with an MTA logo that made a noise like a steam cleaner for a subway track.
Noise then was the occasional group of drunks arguing about nonsense.
Noise then was the occasional potential domestic violence happening over the phone.
Noise then was the B-61, then 62, and B-48 buses screeching at the stop light, the MTA never bothering to get buses with quiet braking systems.
Noise then was the clanging of the pipes all winter when the heater didn't actually give us heat.
Noise then was the old fridge buzzing on and off at regular intervals.
Noise then was constant.
Noise then kept me up all night.

Noise now is a kid shouting for someone next door.
Noise now is the blaring of a TV upstairs at 2:30 in the morning.
Noise now is Matthew coming to bed after staying up to finish his 900 page summer reading book.
Noise now is sometimes the dishwasher, when it's full enough to run.
Noise now is the kitty in the backyard saying hello or running away.
Noise now is the washing machine and dryer running at 7 am when I'm working from home.
Noise now is the couple upstairs having a chat in the morning before heading out for the day.
Noise now is bearable.

But I still want to complain and wear earplugs, because really, it's 10:45 and I'd like to get some sleep tonight, and if the TV stays on all night I won't be happy or able to wake up in time to make the train that is supposed to arrive at 6:59 so that I can leave work when the sun is full blast and with enough time to make it to a 5:30 yoga class.

That's one thing I hate, all the noise, noise, noise, noise! But it's about 100% quieter now than it was then, so I guess you can keep your TV on. Maybe you have insomnia. Maybe you are afraid of the dark. Maybe you really like late night TV. Maybe I am just a grouch. Maybe I'm exaggerating the amount of time I was kept up last night. Maybe I'm still getting used the place.

It's-it!

Yay, we're all moved in and we have a home in Berkeley!

Things that are good:

Backyard
Afternoon sunshine
Cheap bear
Bearflag wine (I know it's from CA, but we used to buy it at Dandelion Wine, and it's good, and it's about 4 dollars cheaper here)
Closets
Offices
Bikes
Bike lights that look like aliens
Multiple varieties of tomatoes at the grocery store (we'll see if that's still the case after tomato season is also over in the tri-state area)
Movie theaters with comfy couches
Movie theaters with proper stages where there's just a huge projection screen
Bay views
The dishwasher
Finishing work with most of the afternoon left over
It's-its (I'm sure you can find these back East, but I never looked because I want to maintain the illusion that this is exclusive because it is just so darn tasty. NY has Yeung-Leung (sp?), so I'm going to pretend. Just let me pretend. Thanks. http://www.itsiticecream.com)
Other things, maybe we haven't discovered them yet! It's only been two weeks!

Things that are...eh:

Getting to the work office here costs $7 round trip
Trains only run until midnight (and taking a cab to Berkeley is apparently expensive)
It's so cold, so so cold
I have a vague sense of homesickness, but usually that goes away when I remember that this is home now
Do not get me started on bagels. I'm considering lobbying to have them called rolls-with-holes.
Other general things people complain about in the Bay Area

I shouldn't complain because we just got here, right? Because I'll have plenty of things to complain about in the future, and I don't want to start all of it now. On a more serious note, I think the complaints things are covered. Probably the things that are good. I mean, the majority of people I talk to either say that they moved here to start a grad program and dragged their S.O. along (or were married or somehow legally bound to the person) or they followed their loves here. It's not like we moved to somewhere out of the ordinary. In my yoga class the other day some guy was hollering about leaving for New York. For Brooklyn, no less. So basically our situation is a dime a dozen, and that's fine with me, but can't there be some kind of support group still? Misplaced people who aren't sure what to say when they're asked where they live because they've lived a few too many places in the last couple of years that they'd rather just make it simple? Matthew's got that one a lot harder, what with the accent that only some people recognize, some recognize as Australian, and some just ignore but he still isn't sure what to say when asked "Where are you from?"

In summary, life here is pretty ok so far. I mean, no revelations on the awesomeness front, but it's also not like we moved to the bottom of the ocean or to the tip of a volcano or to a place that sometimes has devastating earthquakes...oh wait. No, I'm fine about that, really. I've only had a few moments where I've thought, "Damn, this building could collapse and I'm in it! What would happen then?" These are thoughts that also existed in (I almost called it the city! Not anymore! To me, at least) Brooklyn, but they were more varied and included thoughts on zombies, swine flu, nuclear attacks, being pushed onto the subway tracks, being struck by falling cranes, being struck by taxi drivers, being struck by angry passers-by. Here, my biggest fear is earthquakes. If I say it enough, maybe it won't happen. Earthquakes. Earthquakes. Earthquakes. Shaky, shaky, shaky!

I will post pictures of the new digs someday, maybe not though, to avoid stalkers, because I have a huge readership, I know.

Also, pictures of the whole trip will get posted somewhere maybe someday as well.

Now it's time for enjoying the afternoon.

Back on 80, towards San Francisco

The scenic route is highly recommended, who wants to be on one road the whole way?

Remains of easy coast biscotti

I made this in Randolph before we set out. It was a great way to snap out of highway hypnosis.

High season camping

Lake Tahoe is a busy camping destination? Really? No vacant no-hookup tent sites? Oh, an overflow area with no picnic table or fire pit, no, that should be fine..

Somewhsere around 50 miles to Reno we thought about booking a tent site. Of course we'd forgotten it was Friday in the summer, so there wasn't much luck calling every campsite we could. The exchange above took place with a woman at the KOA in South Lake Tahoe, who talked us out of making a reservation.

We felt pretty good about doing that, and the drive in was great. We definitely need to go back there without our apartment behind us. Looks like it's a good place for fun outdoors adventures.

The camp was pretty full when we pulled in, but I was confident about the overflow area, which was supposed to be clearly marked with a sign and on the map. There was, naturally, absolutely no indication of any extra area to camp, and we took the truck around the very tight path to look at the sites. There were a few partial and full hookup sites, but nothing for just a tent, which was already pricey for camping.

There wasn't any service in the area, so the phone was useless for looking for other lodging. Matthew parked and ran to look for a guy in a campsite sweatshirt. This turned out to be the best idea, thank goodness, because he showed us to an open site! Sure, it was on a slope and terrifying to pull into, but it was a place to sleep. There was even a picnic table.

After heating our soup and having a beer (probably not allowed, but no one was looking), we crawled into a very cold tent. I woke up shivering not long after falling asleep, then woke up bursting for the bathroom, but scared to go out due to the possible furry beasts that could be sniffing for dinner. When I finally got enough courage, Matthew requested the other blanket, in the front part of the truck, at which point I mentally wrote a giant thank-you note to Wall Drug, where earlier this week we impulse bought 2 "Indian" blankets. They're made of acrylic, which U don't think grows much on the plains.

When I got back to the tent, there were some very loud snores coming from next door. Matthew said he wouldn't have let me go if he'd heard that before I went out. I said it sounded like my dad, who is not a bear, and so I was pretty sure I had been safe.

Once the sun came up we warmed up enough to get out from under the covers. After settling the bill and getting some coffee, we opened the fortune cookies we'd gotten at the registration desk. Guess it was a Christian camp, because the fortunes were Bible verses. We were blessed to find the place I guess.

Back on the road, I was behind the wheel over and around the mountains around us. I pulled into a For-Sale restaurant, then a convenience store type place where the sign made it look like a diner, which was not going to do for breakfast. Finally pulled off in Camino, off 50, and found a little coffee shop run by a husband and wife who set up shop after many years in the Bay Area. First people to be amazed that we were coming from New York, and also to say that one eventually tires of the Bay Area. They were excited to hear Matthew's accent, because they have an adult child living in England, and at first it sounded like maybe where he grew up, but that was just them being confused about the name of the town. Nice folk. That being said, everyone we've interacted with, save the woman at the tollbooth on Chicago, has been pleasant and friendly. This is a pretty nice country, at least on the route we took.

We are still driving, and have just pulled through a patch of traffic outside of Sacramento. Berkeley is so close! Moving into a new apartment this afternoon after nearly a week on the road. It feels like we just left and it's amazing we are already this far. Now we have to figure out what the new version of real life is, but first order of business is getting there (and a shower).

We've got mountains

Driving out of Salt Lake City, surrounded by flats and mounts.

Ye Olde Great Salt Lake

Longest day

It might not have been our longest day but it felt like it. Wyoming is a beautiful landscape, but let's just say they don't post signs when there's no gas for 80 miles. Let's also say for the record that a quarter tank in the middle of sprawling fields should scream "Get gas!" but I am an optimist (at times) and decided to not say anything as Matthew had just had a rough time registering for classes on the phone. It's not easy with the touch screen and the lack of steady connection. He did know about how much there was and I did say they should post this, but not everyone is not so silly as I to think signs are always posted when one should just be prudent. Tant pis pour nous.

About two-thirds of the way on the 52 mile stretch, the light and alarm went off. I always think of the Seinfeld episode where they drive below empty to see just how empty empty is. Empty, it turns out, is not that empty! 32 miles to the next town and we made it. The sun was blazing, but I was ready to volunteer myself for a 5 mile run if needed. Thankfully, it didn't come to that, or to hitch-hiking, but it did give me a big adrenaline rush and I was shaking the rest of the day.

Aside from that little hiccup, we drove on through Casper, then pushed on for Salt Lake City. Not exactly a disaster, but the campground on the lake was closed, so we tried finding something else, with little luck. Eventually, I spotted a sign for a campsite, which looks a lot like the beehive shaped thing indicating certain Utah highways. Did I mention it was 10:30 already?

So, the campsite. Not a KOA, but not much better. We pulled into Lagoon, an amusement park, with what seemed to be a full zoo next to the campground. There were campsites available, so we pulled in and set up, quite relieved to be able to get to bed. There were some animal sounds in the morning and a group "Addicted to Jesus," which Matthew thought might be some kind of counseling system using Jesus to help addicts, but I think they were just addicts themselves, which is a bit happier, I think.

So we left this morning, driving away from the camels and the emus and the Backdraft, the only ride you need closed toe shoes for...

Salt Lake didn't entice us further, but we did finally stop for gas at a Sinclair, which, for those who haven't seen this gas franchise, has a dinosaur for a mascot. It seems more appropriate than a tiger. We tried a pistachio milkshake, simply based on the ad featuring a child covered in ice cream claiming it was not ice milk. Yummy!

Not having seen much of the salt flats, we were again wowed when 80 led us through what looked like very white sand plains or snowy fields. Well, boy oh boy! Salt! Far as the eye could see. We did have a walk around on it, and it was really bright, which is kind of like saying ice cream is cold.

I am navigating through Reno at the moment, but will post some photos later. Crossing into California tonight, so we are very nearly almost there.

Note from the management

Despite the name, no workers were killed in the production of Devils Tower. In fact, the name is probably a mistranslation by the dudes who found the place during their western exploration who brought a translator who didn't speak the right language. Anyway bear doesn't always mean evil.

Onwards, upwards - Devils Tower

Once we were done with the Rushmore detour, we got back on 90, and drove along at 75 mph, the speed limit in these parts. The "Georgia Rambler" episode of This American Life was playing, and the story had just mentioned an arrest made for speeding. Suddenly, Matthew started and I thought maybe there was wildlife or a very speedy motorcycle, but no, we were being pulled over. As an aside, the truck has a maximum speed of 75. You can push the gas down hard as you want, it won't climb past 76. Maybe downhill. So we probably were not speeding.

The police officer asked for Matthew's license, then the rental agreement, which took a moment to find in the mess. Eventually the cop explained that on account of the motorcycle rally in Sturgis, all trucks were being pulled over to check that rentals weren't carrying commercial goods. He had spent time in England a few years ago, so he and Matthew had a little chat about England. Nice guy.

After that, we made sure to drive extra careful, to avoid having to be pulled over by him again!

Thinking that time was getting precious, we pulled off at a tourist info center to find out how late we could get into a campsite near Devils Tower. Once off the freeway, there was a sign pointing to the right, so we took the scenic route. No phone service, winding roads up and down steep grades, with the speed limit at 65...I was a but nervous. But we rolled into Hulett, a logging town not far from the park, having caught only a glimpse of what was in store. The grocery store was closed, but the bar and an antique shop with a museum on the Lakota in back were both open. With a 6-pack of beer and whatever food we had leftover to cook, we decided to push on to the park.

Another breathtaking moment...Devils Tower is one lump of rock your eyes can't be pulled from. It's so much more than a lump of rock, but that is its essence. Rocky rockness.

The KOA was right at the entrance, but we decided to leave the park fee in the envelope and drive to the campsite inside. The sun was mostly set at that point, but with the lantern my dad gave us, we'd be fine. It was another 12 bucks for the camping, but for $22 to set up the tent at the bottom of the trails, with a decent view of the Tower, it was more than worth it. Unfortunately, I managed to let the lamp slip when I was unloading our dinner prep, so we made do with the flashlights. Matthew did most of the tent set up, then we wandered down the trail for a little look-see before all the light was gone. There was a presentation going on about the park and the animals. Prairie dogs are a keystone animal. There was lightning going on, and the rain was starting to fall, so we had to scrap dinner and have some rolls and a banana. And beer. Made it to the tent with plenty of time, but I stood out to watch as much as I could of the storm. Pretty neat to catch flashes of the Bear's Lodge rising up in the dark.

The tent held up quite well! The morning dew gets it just as wet. We woke up for an early hike up the hill and around the base of the tower. We saw a ton of prairie dogs, some deer, a few rabbits, and a lot of rocks. The walk took about an hour and a half, and we got to take in the tower from an up close angle. I still can't believe how many people were climbing it. Sheesh. Anyway, sounds fun and all if you're into that kind of thing. Not my bag, I'll enjoy the view from the ground, which is splendid enough!

Down from the hike, we made coffee, packed the tent, and started out towards Salt Lake City, Utah, with a lot of Wyoming in between. Highly, highly recommended.

Posing

Devils tower in the back, handsome devils in the front. I'm not sad, just squinting.

Thumbs up

Ghostbuster!

Sad face

Papa Johns...

Cowboy bagels

Ride 'em, doughboy.

Mount Rushbore

I know this might come off as disrespectful, but Mount Rushmore was underwhelming. Maybe because cowboy bagels were a bust (just closing as we walked in), and lunch was Papa Johns, there was a drop in mood. Maybe because the place is so much smaller than I had imagined it, but with enough crap to buy that you'd think the the faces of Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln were there naturally. My guess is it was a dare. Someone said to Borglum, "Hey, I there's a giant rock face in South Dakota, and I bet you couldn't carve a memorial in it if your hands were made of a chisel and a mallet." Well look at that, he did, with the help if dynamite. What I am getting at with this rant is that the landscape leading up to the memorial seems to be worth more than the visual. They could have named a park after the presidents and it might have been a better tribute. But there were enough people there to gawk at the American curiousity. I overheard a few who admitted to not knowing who was carved up there, besides being past presidents. I would have forgiven the French woman, except she suggested Ben Franklin, who spent a load of time over there and probably appears in history lessons.

So we had a time there, then hit the road. Wyoming was up next, and I was unsure how to feel after the afternoon's disappointment.

Out West

Badlands...awesome. Storms were predicted for the evening, but judging by the sunset and the guy who checked us in, we were ok for the night. This is at the Badlands Interior Motel and Campground. Check it out, they have delicious sourdough pancakes. I will attest to their deliciousness. They are pancakes worth coming to South Dakota for. The park's not bad either.

Dinner was taters and onions with some Fat Tire beer, which they sold in the shop. It felt a bit like Top Chef, except not so top because it was potatoes and onions.

After dinner, we turned out the lamp and looked up. I know that even NJ is not much better than NY for seeing stars, and maybe I have seen other nice star viewing points, but wherever they were, this replaces them in my mind. Hello, Milky Way!

Wednesday started with a hike. Pictures will not do it justice, but we clambered up a wooden ladder cabled to the rock wall, then walked out to a great view overlooking the landscape. On the loop back, we saw a momma sheep with her twins. They must have been mountain sheep, because I called them deer, then we heard a ranger call them sheep. Ok.

Onto Wall Drug! Whoa, shopping! Cowboy stuff!

Onto, wait, back to Badlands! Buffalo hunting. Spotting, really. On a very bumpy, gravel road. Have I mentioned the moving truck?

Buffalo are great, size and just as a general descriptor. We saw a herd, then set out for the dead presidents.

Cloud shapes!

Probably the best thing about being in the passenger seat is checking out the cloud shapes floating over the plains. That and not getting nervous every time a truck passes.12 foot, yellow trucks aren't very tough.

We are currently in Wyoming, and have had a few adventures since driving off from Wisconsin.

The route through South Dakota brought us to Mitchell, which is home of the Corn Palace. Didn't go in, but it did look like maybe it really was made all of corn? Can you trust South Dakotans?

Well, you can trust the Midwest to drop a thunderstorm in the afternoon, and we hit a big one. Fortunately, there was a close rest stop, so we pulled in. Visibility was low, wind was high, and it seemed like the best idea, what with our worldly possessions piled in the back.

Once we got back on the road, it was smooth sailing past 1880 town and into the Badlands park.

Wow. I'd recommend the Badlands to anyone who wants to see how awesome nature can be. We drove in at sunset, so the rocks were lit up pink and gold and made for a spectacular entrance. A good welcome to the west. To be continued, as I am getting behind the wheel...

pumping gas

not my favorite pastime

cheese curds

fresh, delicious, wonderful cheese cures

Mississippi

Crossing the Mississippi River!

South Dakota, are you ready?

This morning was the point of no return. I've never been this far in a car! Does it count in a big yellow truck?

We spent last night in Wisconsin with Grandma and Grandpa. It's nice stopping in a house with a bed and not driving all day and having to power nap in PA. 42 miles to La Crosse. After the first day of driving to South Bend, and camping, we had an easy day. I am typing this on the road on my cell phone, which is less than ideal but gets the job done.

This morning we stopped at a Pick-n-Save for breakfast, and tried picking up some beer for camping later, but we weren't able to because it's not allowed before 8. How civilized.

Matthew successfully met the grandparents, though had a hard time sleeping after hearing that my grandma's father died in the house. We learned a few things, like where Frisco is and that Matthew has a funny sneeze.

Today we will pass through Minnesota and South Dakota. Uncle Mike and Aunt Kim gave us some advice on stops: Corn Palace, Wall Drug, some old abandoned road... I know it will be a long day but Matthew thinks we could stop at the Mall of America! Sounds like a plan to me. It must be nice to be a day's drive from the Badlands. Grandma told us about when she went out there as a girl, after the war. She was watching her cousins while her aunt and uncle enjoyed their vacation. She showed us some pictures of her side of the family, and she's just a toddler in the picture with the aunt she traveled with. I love hearing stories and seeing pictures from my family. There are a few around the house, but I could stare at them for ages... Something about the facial expressions, the clothes, the past.

I also found out that my glass stealing habit may be inherited, so that is a relief. Sorry, bars I visit, but if it fits and I like it, my beer glass is coming with me.

It's almost time to fill up (I did it the other day; Matthew still doesn't believe that I never learned...something about growing up in Joisey...). The corn fields stretch over rolling hills on either side of us, the distance is hazy but there are some bigger hills, and the music is good. We put our laptops are in the back and we are making mix CD s as we go. The Ipod hookup is broken, so we are making do with the burning as we go method.

So far, so good. California seems so long away!

Romeo & Julienne

Two quiches, both alike in destiny,
In fair Greenpoint, where we set our table.
From ancient eggs break to new butter crusts,
Where delicious cheddar makes boring quiche unplain.
From forth the fatal loins of these two molds,
A pair of star crossed pastries take their life;
Whose well proportioned egg, yogurt & vegetables,
Do with their mix, bury their parents hunger.
The heatful baking of their cheese-filled innards,
And the continuance of their parents need,
But with their setting, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours passing of our feeding.
The which of you with patient stomachs should attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to end.

Twice as nice

So, I'm baking a cheesecake this afternoon, using a smaller cake pan than the recipe calls for, doing the math accordingly to reduce it. I need 2 and some fraction of eggs, which is kind of tricky. I break in the first 2 from the end of a carton. I get a new carton out, ready to add a whole 3rd egg, cheesecake be damned, when lo and behold, I crack the egg to reveal a double yolk. I saved one, threw the other one in, and the cake is looking pretty delicious.

Thanks, hen.

Meat is dead

When I was growing up, and then driving, the 1989 Buick Century was plastered with a blue "Meat is dead" sticker, with an upside down cow on it. After my dad's hippie phase passed and he started eating meat again, the sticker was a reminder of the times when he didn't eat meat. I inherited the car, but not the vegetarianism. My stepsister's & stepmother were vegetarian when they moved over here, and one of them still is. I think it's amazing that to this day she can say she's lived her entire life, including gestation, never having eaten meat. And you could say she's even healthy, though managed to survive on baked potatoes and pierogies for quite a long period. Gotta love picky vegetarians.

I may have mentioned my decision to go meat-less as my New Years' resolution, and I'm writing to say that it's still going strong. Yes, I have not eaten meat since January 1, 2010, which is a whopping 29 days. And I'm proud, because I've made it through almost a month. To be fair, I didn't expect this to be amazingly difficult, given my housemate is a vegetarian, though a very lax one at that (pâté de foie gras is one exception). I am not tempted to cook meat at home. I am tempted and give into temptation in a lot of my dreams, which is a strange thing for me. The other day, I was offered a roast beef sandwich, and I ate it, then realized I would have to start over with my vegetarianism. Whoops. Good thing it was only a dream. That wasn't the only one, but the details of the others are fuzzy at this point, and thankfully they are happening less and less.

So here I am, nearly done with one month of a successful resolution.

This week I'm giving up sugar. Just for 7 days. Day one was difficult. Very very very difficult. I am 200 times more addicted to sugar than I am to meat. I imagine tonight's dreams will involve every sort of delicious treat that could be thrust my way, horrible caving in, and then very intense feelings of guilt. It'll be like I'm in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and I'll be Augustus Gloop and fall into the chocolate river and enjoy every minute of it because I'm a decent swimmer. Probably better in chocolate. Oh man, I could really go for a white chocolate pistachio blondie right about now. So glad I brought the leftovers to work... (Recipe here: Flagrante Delicia). Oof.

And the chocolate babka

Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. Can't get enough. This one's from Smitten Kitchen, also for last week's dessert donation. It seemed to be a big hit at the office too!

Full disclosure: I had not, until last week, really known what a babka was. I believe the cat may have had that nickname at some point in his lifetime, but I did not equate babka with any kind of cultural food memory. But damn, I was missing out.

Rolling in/out the dough.

Sprinkle on the chocolate & butter & cinnamon & sugar...

10:45 pm: Roll it up, twist it up, shove it in the pan, then take a somewhat unappetizing photo...(Then let rise for 1/2 hour?? What? Bedtime is now?)
The morning after (an hour or so in the oven).

I thought the one on the far left was the ugliest, so that's the one I brought to work. We get freaking cookies in the office (there are at least 3 packages of Oreos), so I figured an ugly babka wouldn't be a problem.

The best reaction was laughter and the "Have you seen the Seinfeld episode with the babka??" because I haven't recently, but probably did at some point because that show is always on and I will always watch it if it is and Law and Order: SVU is not.

I hope everyone found it as amusing and/or delicious.

Worst doctor ever?

I go to the doctor today, because I've been sick since late Friday, and I woke up in the middle of the night with a crust over my eye that said "Pink Eye" like it's said in the past when I've gone to the doctor and been diagnosed with nasal infection induced pink eye.

It's not pink eye. But then again, I have no idea what it is.

Work did not happen today, as I'd hate to infect the office prior to going to Atlantis this weekend, but it's pretty busy and I feel a slight bit of guilt for not going in, less so with the pain that still waves to me from my throat, neck, head face, shoulders, upper body...

My regular PCP was not in, because apparently he's only there from 9-10 am on Mondays. Who knew?? I sure didn't. I also managed to sleep until 10:30 after getting up at 6 to email work and post a document to our Google Docs page in order to have done something productive today other than winge, which this is accomplishing for me. So they sent me to Dr. Lerch, which may or may not be how you write his name. He is horrible. Let me remind you of the time I went to the doctor last year which what probably was strep throat. I say probably because my PCP was also not in that day, and they sent me to the same guy who took a quick glance at my throat, said "It's really swollen," and then gave me a prescription for antibiotics. I don't do well with antibiotics but I will spare the gory details. See something missing? I was pretty ok about it then, being that I was in searing pain and couldn't remember the last time I was prescribed antibiotics, so I said ok and went on my merry way. Big problem was that I never got a throat culture. Not even the rapid test! I waited for about an hour and was seen for maybe 5 minutes, but that's really stretching it.

So today, I was less than thrilled to be given an appointment with the fastest doctor in Greenpoint, but I really thought it would do me good to see someone who knew what they were talking about and could maybe give some advice on how to alleviate my suffering. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. I got to the office at 11 for my 11:15, only to wait until noon to be seen. "Your throat is swollen, but you definitely don't have pink eye. I'm going to give you a 10 day prescription for antibiotics."

"Antibiotics for what?"

"10 days of antibiotics, under your tongue," said the mean nurse assistant lady.

"No, I mean, why are you giving me antibiotics?" (and can someone tell me why 98.3 is normal?? Does that mean my 99.8 on Saturday was a fever?)

"Well, this is probably the best way to take care of it."

"And you aren't going to give me a throat culture?"

"Well, that would take time, and you should really be on antibiotics."

Ok enough of this crap, Dr. Lerch. You didn't have the time, and probably aren't paid enough to explain to me why I should be on a 10 day course of antibiotics, when you haven't bothered to ask me the extent of my symptoms, but were pleased enough with the fact that I have nothing going on in my chest. What the hell?

I'm not a doctor, and I don't play one anywhere, be it television, movies or the internet. I'll say this again, because this is what I said last year. I've had strep throat. I've had strep more times than I can count. This is not it. My nose is running something terrible, and I have something going on in my eye. It would appear to me that I have a cold, which fine, great, tell me that. But no antibiotic is going to cure it. In fact, you are just contributing to the continually ramped up resistance to antibiotics that those superstrains of bacteria have. Maybe politics got in the way, but the fact is, I'd rather have my nose fall off than deal with the side effects of antibiotics made for horses.

I did get to have an allergy test though, which no one has ever suggested! Of course this explained everthing when it turned out that I had the mother of all reactions to both ragweed and dust mites. The allergist was very nice, but the whole experience was itchy. It's really disconcerting to watch giant welts form under some kind of oily stuff just pricked onto your arm. Also, I am allergic to dust mites, what? Super-allergic? When did this start? I sleep in beds EVERY NIGHT and I have survived until now, with not too many problems. But those little guys are everywhere. This is where sometimes I think medicine is overrated. Also, the only advice I got was to maybe do allergy shots, which, get this, involves a few months of near-daily allergy shots, then bi-weekly, then monthly, then annual going on for like the rest of my life. No thanks, I think I'll deal with it as it hasn't really affected me before. Ok, maybe a stuffy nose here and there, but I'd have to say I'm in pretty good health otherwise.

Well Dr. Lerch had to see me one more time, which meant waiting for him to return from the other side of hell for another 15 minutes. He said I could get bloodwork done to see if I had a viral or bacterial infection, handed me a prescription and sent me off to the front desk. They dealt with that and I went off to Quest to get my bloodwork done. The place is around the corner, so it was an easy walk. I get there, and a woman immediately escorts me back to have blood drawn, sits me in the chair and asks if I've been there. Then she stops and says, "I can't do this, this does not have your name."

Ok, fine, I'll run back to the overrun doctor's office to get my name written on the prescription. The receptionist asks why it isn't on a different form, to which I really wanted to respond that the woman sitting about 10 feet behind her just told me that would be all I needed. But no, she has to fill out an entirely new form, but fortunately she remembers to put my name on it. Good job. I'd recommend skipping all the doctors at Manhattan Medical just to avoid the horribly organized front desk. Not my first bad experience.

Back to Quest! I switched insurance back in July of 2009, and I gave the new information at Manhattan Medical. Unfortunately, they failed to tell me that the Quest I was going to may or may not send me a bill for around $80 to find out if I have a viral or bacterial infection so I can or cannot get antibiotics from Dr. Lerch. It was at that point that I gave up. At this point, I had gone about 3 hours without having eaten anything for breakfast in my rush to get to the doctor's office to wait around, and it was just not worth it. There was no way they could look at my insurance to tell me if it would work, I would have to call. Fine, well I'm making the decision to not waste the rest of my day dealing with this, because at this point I have confirmed my suspicions that, yes, I am sick, and no, there is nothing I will be able to do about it that will actually make me feel better in a short period of time without wreaking havoc on my stomach.

So thank you, Dr. Lerch, Manhattan Medical, Quest Diagnostics and all of the other major players in my story today.

I feel that there's something wrong with a doctor who has an automatic antibiotic prescription reaction. It's odd. Nothing diagnostic, just a very quick glance.

That being said, I'm looking for a new PCP in Greenpoint.

2010 - a little late

1.10.10, no??

I think I am not up for posting about food much. I'd rather talk about it, and all that picture posting is quite a chore. I'm not up for blogging that way. Isn't the written word supposed to be used for creating mental images? This is not a resolution.

My New Years resolution this year is to go veggie. I'll try it for a year and see how I feel. This is not the strangest thing to decide to do, as I currently live with a vegetarian, and it's never crossed my mind to cook 2 versions of the same meal so that I could have animal protein. No, I've become somewhat adept at making delicious things and not using the meat, leaving me only eating meat when at my parents house, at a restaurant, occasionally at work for lunch, and when I'm forced to, like on airplanes.

This decision is in part influenced by my recent reading of Eric Schlosser's Fast Food Nation. I'd be happy to eat only grass-fed beef or stuff I've bought at the farmer's market that was culled humanely, but I just don't have the time, energy, or desire to do that. I would encourage meat eaters to do that anyway. The system in place now does not work, and I would prefer to stop contributing to it.

I've had many dreams recently where I've been fed something with meat in it and enjoyed it. Just last night, someone recalled to me (in dream-land), that I had eaten meat raviolis, and I woke up with a kind of terror in my mind, and remembered that no, I had not eaten meat raviolis recently, so there was nothing to worry about. Like all resolutions, one misstep will not unravel it, but I prefer to go all in, or nothing, so perhaps that is the cause of my anxiety.

I have not been missing meat, because I don't eat it all that often. Good for me. I am sick this weekend, with some kind of horrible sore throat thing, and all I can think is, no chicken soup. I don't really consider chicken soup meat - more like medicine. But all or nothing - I'm going to be skipping the chicken soup this cold season, and power through with some Throat Comfort tea and lemon & honey hot water. They do the trick too!

I feel like some people in my life don't think I am sincere about this and that I am just doing this as a stunt. Maybe not a stunt, but not in a serious way. It's a lifestyle choice that I have pretty much eased my way into over the past few years. It's funny that the b.f. is easing his way out. He will eat foie gras, but refused to try goose at Thanksgiving. He's a little confused, I think. He is technically a pescatarian, meaning he'll only eat fish (no other animals). That's another decision for me to make - fish, or no fish? I don't know if that falls under the umbrella of meat. I really like shrimp. I've recently read that shrimp are farmed in not so great ways. What do I think of that? I've been fishing, and fish are not very relatable. I don't eat a whole lot of fishy fish. I hate fishy fish. So is the exception to eat shrimp, lobster, scallops, mussels a legitimate exception? Does that make me a crustaciatarian? I made that one up. But maybe that's a good compromise.

10 days... that's pretty good so far.