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$8.99/lb!!
I found one of those ocean-side shacks--NEAR MY OFFICE (which granted, is right near the ocean in Boston)--that sells live, fresh lobsters for $8.99/lb. $8.99 a pound! That's what Whole Foods charges for TILAPIA (around these parts anyway). (And they were tasty too, although too much butter for me). I could pick up fresh lobsters for $8.99/lb on my way home from work!
$8.99! I think this means lobster once a month now. Also, lobster bisque. And lobster and corn chowder. And lobster stock fish soup.
So, if anybody is visiting Boston, let me know, and you should come to my house and we'll make lobster!
Beni
Comfort Reading
Whenever I feel as if I am falling into a depression, one of the things that I feel helps to bring me out of it (beyond, of course, the great care of my friends, family, and colleagues; good food; exercise; and most importantly, sunshine) is to read really, really depressing early 20th century European literature and also post-WWII era stuff(excluding Sartre, which I find is more depressing, but I haven't yet figured out exactly why). My usual roster of comfort reading includes items such as Camus' The Plague, the essays of Natalia Ginzburg, Orwell but especially Homage to Catalonia, and other books of that ilk. (Do those make up an 'ilk' to anyone else? They do to me, but I don't know what I'd call it. There must be a name. Maybe 'Against Nazis and Totalitarians?)
Other kinds of literature can help to stave off a depression with magical realism, parallel universes, sex, celebrity, sharp humor, or whatever, but there is something about the bleakness of war and struggles with morality, responsibility, and death (always death) that somehow manages to ultimately break me out of a funk in a different way than say, a bag of Dove dark chocolate eggs, could possibly hope to. Why is this?
Is it because there's nothing so easy, in some ways, as being against the Nazi's?
The Coldest Winter
Hey guys.
So.
Well, I don’t know. Just haven’t had a lot to say lately.
Seems like all I do is talk about the weather, or how the weather used to be. I’ve always been ok with talking about the weather. Sometimes it really something to talk about. Most times it’s just a general acknowledgement by all parties that you wish to socialize on some level, but you don’t really have anything to say. That’s cool with me; I like socializing and also communicating without actually saying the awkward words.
But wow. Wow. There has been some discussion of the weather these past months. It is more than being in an environment where communication not directly related to work is a challenge. It is an overwhelming presence that has dominated the psyche of most Midwestern residents this winter.
Advice and/or wisdom anyone?
So various rejections from the powers that be here at fair Harvard have left me in limbo in terms of my plans for this summer and my senior year of college. I come seeking advice and punking out of making decisions entirely by myself.
First, the trouble of senior year: English major that I am, I applied to write a creative thesis, a play (writing plays is, by the way, one of those things I want to do with the rest of my life). No dice, says English department--lots of applicants, etc., etc. Having bummed and moped about this for a couple of days, I am now more or less recovered and pondering whether I should write a thesis at all. I could write a critical thesis (45 pages or so of literary analysis) or I could not write a thesis. Those be the options. By all accounts, writing a thesis sucks, takes a year, and dramatically limits what one can do with one's senior year. Still, quite the nifty accomplishment, something to be proud of, an excuse to dig around in dark recesses of libraries... Any suggestions from the post-collegiate crowd?
Has anyone else been watching these debates?
So Liz and I have watched the last handful of the debates. We'd tried watching a couple times when there were still a zillion Democrats left, but it was pretty unbearable. It's been interesting to me.
First, it's interesting that there have been more Clinton/Obama debates than I can recall there ever being between the Republican and Democratic final candidates. Second, I've been intrigued by the varying formats of the debates, though to be fair, the candidates often make a mockery of the format in order to talk about the "more important" issues. Most interesting, to me at least, has been watching the change in debate tactics and tone used by Clinton as she has shifted from prohibitive favorite to presumed prohibitive underdog.
Chinese New Year's Resolutions
Without any doubt, the hardest part about going to Cambodia is coming back. There's the 12 hour jetlag. There's the fact I almost inevitably return with a cold and have to take much care to eat well and not get sick. And the fact that my fridge is empty. Also, I find that there are small but important elements of my life back here in the US that suddenly seem intolerable.
So I went to Vegas, the Finale (a story in pictures)
Sorry for all the delays. I now present the final part of my trip to Vegas, with some cool pictures, I hope.
When last we saw our hero, he'd passed out after a long night of eating, drinking, and gambling with friends. Christmas day was much different.
One of the things I was most looking forward to in Vegas was finally getting out to Red Rocks, the nearby canyon area where rock climbers love to go, and people who aren't really rock climbers like to pretend they are. I'm no different from everyone else, apparently, so I wanted to go out to the canyon and pretend I knew how to climb rocks.
So I went to Vegas, part 3
I don't want to move Beni's cool post too far down the front page, so most of this will be after the jump.
Having gotten in super late on Sunday, I woke up pretty late on Monday, the day of Christmas Eve. I was feeling a bit like crap, so I investigated prices at the spa. Not only were the prices absurd, but there weren't any availabilities for the rest of the time I was in Vegas. Mostly this was because of abbreviated hours for Christmas on the next two days. Bah.
Procrastinating in Cambodia
It's been a curious trip this time around, a little uninspiring frankly. Usually, there are a handful of things that never fail to cheer me up when I come to Phnom Penh: 1) delicious fresh fruit shakes, 2) shopping at the markets, 3) going to the spa and getting a massage for $20 or less, and 4) meeting up with friends and family and artists.
But recently, I just have not been much craving the fresh fruit shakes; I have been totally uninterested in the shopping (I can't have anything tailored, boo!, because the timespan is too short, and everyone I know is too busy). When I first got off the plane, and my body was achy, a massage was very nice. But I more recently got a massage and you know, it was kind of boring. The part that I enjoy most about the fancy spas is being able to take a nice shower with WARM water and not just cold water in a beautiful setting. (I know, I know. Boo-hoo me. The freshly made longan or banana nougatine shakes don't seem novel anymore and the $20 massages in a cool tropical garden seem a little boring. Yeah, Life is so hard.)
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