January 16th, 2011

Sea Anemone
Aquarium of the Pacific
Long Beach, CA
January 16th, 2011

The talk went perfectly well. After checking out of the hotel, I spent a couple of hours at the Aquarium of the Pacific. It was a Sunday and therefore inundated with all of the children in CA. It was also painful to be in a dark aquarium when the sun was shining and there was a beach to visit.

Petting sea anemone was the best part of the aquarium visit. When you brush your fingers over their tentacles, the tentacles seem to cling and stick. While at other times, they quickly draw away from your hand. The sticking isn't actually sticking though. They are technically stinging/poison your fingertips, but our skin is too thick for us to feel it or its effect - so it just feels sticky. This is how they trap their food, by paralyzing it with toxins.

Petting sea anemone is far cooler than petting star fish (New England Aquarium, I'm talking to you.)

January 15th, 2011

Flamenco Dancers
Alegria Cocina Latina
Long Beach, CA
January 15th, 2011

Flamenco dancers walked a small stage at the latin restaurant we had dinner at on Saturday night. Fresh sangria with pre-marinated fruit in the glass made the boys squirm. I didn't stay out beyond the meal, and even then I left early. I had my talk in the morning and was in the verge of freaking out when I got back to the hotel room. You know how you wake up in the middle of the night in a panic? I totally did that, having not been able to properly give my talk in a practice run a couple of hours before.

There really should be a warning label on me that says I can't be trusted to have productive or rational behavior after 10pm. I'm far too vulnerable to exhaustion-induced mood swings.

January 14th, 2011

Pine Ave, Long Beach, CA
January 14th, 2011

There were so many great photographs from this day that it was hard to chose just one for the blog. I decided on this one for several reasons: It best reflects Long Beach with the funky rollar coaster bridge, palm trees and high rises. Street murals like this were all over the place, large boards propped up to hide construction sites. And this was also the start of a beautiful afternoon.

After meeting the boys for lunch, I headed off in the direction of the elusive Walmart. As a Boston resident, Walmart is this mythical place in which things are uncommonly cheap - both the products and the people. There is no Walmart in the metro area, however, so I personally get to visit one once every 2-3 years. The fact that there was one in the middle of a city only 5 blocks from my hotel was amazing. Who knew Walmart would be my #1 tourist destination in Long Beach? But it was because I didn't bring a bathing suit and the 85 degree weather demanded that I have one. That and some hairspray.

So I headed down Pine Ave, coming across humorous signs about curfews, more murals and art painted on the sides of brick buildings and construction sites. Walmart itself was centered by a square. A lot of homeless people were hanging out, but there was also a farmer's market and street fair in progress.

I picked up freshly picked blood oranges (sweet!!) for snacking. A man selling locally grown apples cut slivers from his three varietals and then carved/sliced a whole apple in this funky eared/winged design. I was going to buy an apple, but when he just gave one to me for free, I didn't have a need for much more. Very cool though. Have I mentioned how much I love farmer's markets?

Beyond the farm and produce booths was a street fair Vendors selling trinkets and food stretched another two blocks. Southern BBQ, churros, hot dogs and Italian ice. The trinkets were literally all trinkets and tacky t-shirts and just junk. I would have LOVED it as a kid. Bouncy balls, cheap jewelry, little plastic toys, silly hats.

Everyone seemed happy, laughing and talking with friends. I think that's what I loved the most about those two blocks. It was the sign of a real community - an element that its hard to find when you're a tourist and in a city on business. That was the highlight of my trip, honestly.

January 13th, 2011

Washington Dulles Airport, Terminal B
January 13th, 2011

I never intended to have this become my one photo snapped on this date, but it kind of turned out that way. Technically I snapped a photo of the cot in our hotel room, but it came out poorly. The cot was there because the hotel had run out of rooms and left us in a room with a stunning 2-wall window view, but with one bed. I took the cot, since I'm nice like that, and too exhausted after traveling all day to care. We swapped out the next morning, but retained the beautiful view!

This actual photo was taken at Washington Dulles airport. We had two ours to spare between flights. I took a hard spill coming out of the plane on the slippery rubber mat just as you step down. My hands were on my luggage, so I had no way to catch my fall. I ended up with some bruised knees, but that's about it. No additional injuries to my already iffy joints.

So anyway, we sat at the gate for the second hour, talking about what women want. It was pretty funny. For example, why would a woman show lots of interest, then when you reciprocate and take it as an indication that she wants to be more serious, suddenly drop you like a hot potato for moving too fast? And how do you return to being just friends again? I'm can't say that offered the best advice, but he got heaping spoonful of cynic's wisdom.

Amidst all this, I felt like I should really snap a photograph of something. That something turned out to be the beautiful geometric lines of the terminal ceiling.

January 12th, 2011

Blizzard
January 12th, 2011

The blizzard arrived. I chose not to leave my home. I spent the day thoroughly cleaning the house, reorganizing my closet, folding laundry and doing dishes. It's amazing how easily cleaning can fill your entire day. It was beautiful. I left the next morning with a spotless, clutter-free apartment to return home to the next week.

January 11th, 2011

Canceled flights due to blizzard
January 11th, 2011

My flight to California was canceled the day before I was scheduled to take off. It was automatically rescheduled for a flight the following day through Dulles instead of JFK.

Now my flight through JFK, rather than a direct flight to Long Beach, was a direct result of my love for Terminal 5. I try to go through it at least once per year in order to stop in at Muji and buy deliciously clean, white Japanese writing paper. There are only a few Muji locations in the United States, all in NYC and all within a half mile radius of each other. Soho, Times Square, Chelsea, MoMa and the airport. Given my aversion to going to NYC, you can see how JFK is my only real access to the store. The rest of the chain thrives throughout Europe and Asia - but just not in the US. And they have no stateside online store to order from either.

As a result of the blizzard, I ended up at Dulles instead - which has nothing in Terminal B to recommend it, except perhaps Chipotle for a smelly burrito-shop lunch.

January 10th, 2011

Book of Mormon
January 10th, 2011

After work I made the trek out to Target in order to get some stockings and comfortable flats. It was something of a miracle, but just as I was about to leave, suddenly a pair of my old favorite wool-lined ballet flats appeared on the shelf. I had gone through that shoe section about two dozens times looking for the right size, without any luck. I was about to settle on a pair of suspiciously not-quite-comfortable flats that probably would have left me with vicious blisters, when the right size appeared out of no where.

I picked up a wide variety of tights to go under my dresses along with a pair of grown-up stockings. All of this in preparation for my trip to the conference. I chose to bring all dresses this year as opposed to pant-suits and so I assumed that I would end up uncomfortably cold and wishing I'd worn tights. I couldn't have predicted it would be in the 80s and absolutely beautiful.

After my shopping trip, I stood out on the corner to catch the bus back into the city. While I stood shivering in the cold, chewing on a string cheese in order to temper my hunger due to a missed dinner, two matching young men passed by with name tags. Mormon missionaries! Apparently I looked like a receptive audience, nibbling on my string cheese in the bitter cold, since the tall, good looking blonde one suddenly reversed directions and trekked back to talk to me.

I told him I'd spoken with missionaries before and I had LDS friends, but that I was neither religious nor had I read the Bible. He gave me his talk, produced my very own copy of the BoM and asked if I'd like someone to come by to talk to me. Girls, of course. There were two very nice girls who would love to talk to me, so I didn't have to invite boys into my home. Yes, he used terms "boys" and "girls" as opposed to women or men. His partner was, in fact, a boy. Pimple-faced and barely out of the school room, he didn't say a single word the entire encounter. He seemed shy and overshadowed by his golden boy companion.

Around this time, a girl whom I would have guessed to be drunk had she not been coming from Target, stumbled up. She immediately broke into the conversation by loudly asking if I was waiting for a bus? Yes. Did I know if one was coming? I assumed so. But did I look at the schedule and know when? No. Apparently that answer was unsatisfactory. Clearly she places too much faith in the bus schedule. Even if a bus were supposed to be showing up, the chance that it would is fairly slim in Somerville. She walked erratically away.

The missionary and I exchanged an amused look, then broke out laughing. He started to talk to me again about what a comfort reading the BoM was for him. Then the girl shouted at us once more. Did we have a light? The missionary smiled and said "No, I'm Mormon. I don't smoke." She shrugged and trudged off into the night towards Cambridge.

We concluded our conversation quickly after that and he gave me the numbers of the "girl" missionaries. He and his companion continued on their way - the younger one energetically jumping over a snowbank, happy to no longer be standing in the bitter cold talking to a stranger about God.