I'm meeeelting.

No, I did not manage to do anything cultural this weekend.  It was too hot.

I was supposed to do something athletic, though; namely, participate in an organized training run for the New York City Marathon.  But the afternoon before, with the forecast for 7 a.m. something like 82 degrees, the organizers sent out an email announcing that the pace groups would move at a slower pace, there would be extra water available on the course, and that they encouraged runners sensitive to heat to skip the run.  That was all the encouragement I needed to wimp out; while I'm very worried about how I'll train for an entire marathon in what is basically going to end up being the month of September, after my last long run, when it was seventy degrees and I barely made it ten miles, I wasn't anxious for a repeat.  Instead, I went to the gym, where I did the stairmaster for 15 minutes - the cardio area was crowded, and everyone was on treadmills and ellipticals, leaving all the stairmasters and bikes open - and then ran four miles on the treadmill before attending a yoga class.  I hadn't been to yoga for a long time, which usually means a painful and difficult practice, but the run must have loosened me up because I felt really good.  ...until I went home and discovered that I was covered with the painful and unsightly friction burns that I frequently get when running long distances, especially during warm weather.  These burns, which take days or weeks to heal, which hurt every time I brush against them (which, because they appear in the places that get brushed against when I move, is frequently), and which sting so much when wet that I dread the shower immediately after a long run, were a significant part of the reason I avoided the long, sweaty run on Saturday morning, so I was extremely displeased to have gotten them anyway.  Three days later, they still hurt, although not all the time, and I'm no closer to being trained for the marathon than I was a month ago.

Despite my failure to perform any significant physical activity this weekend, I did manage to have a significant meal, at Artisanal, a French bistro.  I went at brunch for the very end of restaurant week, and was able to sample their cold potato leek soup (good but weird), beignets (very good, if unsubtle), "soft scrambled eggs" (more like coddled eggs, served with bacon and very good potatoes), "chocolate marquise" (a sort of slice of mouse, very chocolatey, very salty, not very sweet, a dessert for the hormonally wretched), and a small amount of typically-French (read: burnt, even compared to Starbucks) coffee.  It was a good meal, worth the excursion, although the prices for non-Restaurant-Week items were not as stratospheric as I'd expected, and an equally good and perhaps more interesting meal could perhaps have been made of fondue or crepes or the like.  Fortunately, they are not going anywhere, so if I run out of other places in New York to try I will be sure to go back.

Today my dinner was leftover chinese vegetables followed by yogurt with granola.  It was very sophisticated, especially the part where I  almost knocked over my microwave trying to open it without unbalancing the drying rack full of wet clothes that takes up my entire "kitchen".

This week has been a lot of socializing, and that means a lot of restaurants.

Monday I went to Ruths Chris for a Restaurant Week meal.  I was apprehensive that it would be too snobby to be enjoyable, but all the waiters and other staff we interacted with were pleasant and solicitous and - perhaps because it was restaurant week - the clientele wasn't at all hoity-toity.  The steak was amazing and the salad was extremely fresh and generously portioned. The sides were overly creamy and bland and the dessert was not worth finishing (I'm not someone who would typically say that about a dessert) but you don't go to a place like that for sides and dessert.  On the whole, a very good dining experience.

Tuesday I went to Balade, yet again.  It just always seems to be the best place I can think of for any purpose.  It's quiet enough for serious conversations, has tables big enough for large groups, offers both vegetarian food and meaty dishes, serves small plates and large entrees, and it's conveniently located.  This time I shared small plates and pizza and had a glass of Lebanese wine... I wasn't impressed by the "national dish" of Lebanon, which is some kind of ground-beef dumpling, but the other dishes were good as always.

Wednesday I went to Boat Basin Cafe, which somehow I had never been to despite living on the Upper West Side for the past three years.  I can't say that I think I was missing much.  The food was somewhere on the bad side of forgettable, the chairs were flimsy and dirty, the service was indifferent, and on the whole there was really no reason to ever go back.  I realize that the draw of this place is not meant to be the gourmet food, but next time I want to eat a casual meal by the water in Riverside Park, I'll go to Zabar's for picnic supplies instead.

Thursday I went to Vino Vino.  I'd been once before with the same group of people, and we returned for the happy-hour wine and reasonable variety of interesting, classy nibbles (olives, crostini, charcuterie, and unpronounceable variants thereof).  As before, the location was somehow classy yet approachable, not too loud, and the waiter gave us advice on the wine menu and refilled our water glasses frequently.  The seating isn't well-configured for meals or dates - the tables are long and low - but for a large group it works very well.

Half of this post is about food.

I have probably forgotten all the stuff I have done this week already, although I feel like most of it involved being annoyed about work.

• I am very bad at ordering sushi.  I know perfectly well which sushi I like - simple rolls with eel, avocado, and/or salmon, and preferably brown rice.  But every time I am actually ordering, I get complex, weird rolls that end up not being nearly as good, and then I make a mess trying to eat it.
• I saw Anything Goes.  It has gotten rave reviews, at least from my friends, and I enjoyed it quite a bit.  The lead, Sutton Foster, has an amazing voice, and I liked the dancing quite a bit, especially the tap.  But I did not like the minister/gangster and his affected little quasi-humor.  However, I did like how the show turned the usual annoying aspect of romantic comedies with male leads (the intelligent female friend who is totally ignored, or else at the last minute he falls in love with her) a bit on its head, by giving the female lead a wealthy, interesting husband and saddling the male lead with the bland, pretty debutante he was chasing after in the first place.
• Found a really good Mexican restaurant in Hell's Kitchen, on 9th Ave. at 49th, probably called Tacocina.  It has good quality ingredients, whole wheat tortillas, and lots of seafood.  I think it might get very loud when busy - like most Manhattan restaurants, everything is bare, hard surfaces - but at 5 p.m. on a Saturday it was fairly subdued.
• I bought two pairs of shoes today, although this sounds much girlier than I think it is: they were new cycling shoes (my current ones are too narrow in the toebox; I have to wear them with my thinnest socks and even then sometimes, especially in summer, my toes start to get numb by the end of a 45-minute spin class... since I'm going to be wearing cycling shoes much of the day while I'm biking in Ireland, I wanted something more comfortable) and transitional running shoes (I want to try forefoot running since, although my knees are pretty sound, joints don't ever get any younger, but I don't want to jump into it since I'm running fairly long distances these days what with marathon training, so the guy at jackrabbit sold me some neutral shoes that are lighter than what I usually wear but still definitely traditional running shoes... this may have been a waste of money, but at least if I just can't get into forefoot running I can still wear them for lifting or whatever, as opposed to some of the minimalist runners which wouldn't be good for anything else)
• I do not like Indian food.  That said, I was surprisingly not-displeased with my dinner at Mughlai tonight.  I learned that bread can be spicy, and the first couple bites of my entree made me cough, but then I acclimated and it was actually fairly good.  Although I have no idea what was in it - it was supposed to be "cheese and vegetable dumplings in a light vegetable sauce" but seemed more like "vegetable and nut dumplings in a cheese sauce", I finished the entire (granted, far from huge) portion and my only complaint right now is that I am hungry again (probably because it was too hot today to eat lunch).

an uneventful but New York-y weekend

To be honest, I have been kind of a waste of space this weekend.  I did not run at all, despite the 15-mile run on my (mental) calendar, and I did not accomplish much of anything else.  But it was very hot, and after a week of late nights and early mornings and stomach-churning stress at work, I was very tired.  (to the point that I took afternoon naps both yesterday and today, and dreamed about work during one of them.)  However, I do have a few bits of discovery to report.

Bit the First: 4000 Miles, a play

New York is an endlessly surprising place.  The day after attending a screening held in the back room of a nice restaurant in the West Village, I went to a play held in a small, informal theater about fifty feet from Spiderman.  The play - which has now finished its extended, sold-out run but is rumored to be returning in several months - is a short, intermissionless dramedy about a young man who, at the end of a cross-country bike trip on which his best friend was killed, washes up at the Greenwich Village apartment of his elderly grandmother.  The play is largely plotless - things happen, but mostly it's about the two characters' disconnection from life, their closeness to death, and the rapport they develop during the weeks they inhabit the apartment together.  There are two other characters onstage, the semi-ex-girlfriend of the young man, who I never really got a bead on, and another love interest who seemed superfluous, and several other people who figure large in the main characters' stories, but mostly the play is about the two of them.  Both were played by really fabulous actors, and the contrast between the lanky, almost lyrical physicality of the young man and the halting equivocations of the old woman was the most compelling aspect of the production.  I would recommend seeing it if it were still around.

Bit the Second: Petite Abeille, for brunch

It is not possible for any city, including New York, to have too many places to eat brunch.  This place - the name appears to mean Little Bee - is nominally Belgian, and seems to be one part B Cafe, one part New York concrete-and-wood-and-no-soundproofing-whatsoever, and one part Le Peep (the original adorable brunch place as far as I'm concerned, located in Savoy, Illinois).  Anyway, in addition to omelettes and hamburgers and beer, they have belgian waffles, which are basically a(nother) excuse to have dessert as the first meal of the day.  I think maybe it was eating this waffle that derailed my running-and-eating-properly plans for this weekend, but I'm not sorry.

Bit the Third: (Not) Shakespeare in the (Other) Park

It is so hard to get Shakespeare in the Park tickets that I don't even bother doing the online application anymore.  But there is another set of free performances in Riverside Park (reviewed very nicely, two years ago, here).  This month they are doing Chekhov's The Seagull.  To be honest... well, this was not a success.  Part of the appeal of a production like this one is to see a familiar story in a new light, and while many (although not all) of Shakespeare's plays are familiar to many people, this non-Shakespearean play was not familiar to me.  Another issue was the environment - Riverside Park is narrow, and there was a lot of noise from the major roads on both sides of the park.  In addition, there were joggers and pedestrians and little kids and pets - sometimes passing directly in front of the stage on their wanderings through the park - and spectators drifting in and out (it has never occurred to any New Yorker, apparently, that upon entering a performance late they should remain unobtrusively at the back rather than trying to find a seat at the front... I do not think most New Yorkers know the meaning of the word "unobtrusive" or have any awareness of the concept it represents).  It was a nice evening, and I appreciated the effort to adapt the play to a modern interpretation and the Riverside Park setting, but the production sorely needed the acoustics, set, and proper costumes of a more formal staging.  I left after half an hour, and I was not the first one to go.

Bit the Fourth: Some thoughts

A year ago, I was in the middle of my Parisian sojourn, having recently and after much angst left my academic career for an unknown future in the Real World.  Two years ago, this would have been an unthinkable thing to do, and in the months in between I often told myself - never really believing it - that someday academia would not be my whole life but only something in my past.  I was right, which is still kind of surprising, and now that other life seems to have no relationship to me.

People ask me sometimes if I miss it.  I do, sometimes a lot.  I miss the work, the excitement, the travel, the people.  The informality and low-key dailyness.  Most of all, doing something I was really, really good at.  My job now is great, but it's different.  So I miss my former career, the way when I was in college I sometimes missed high school, or when I came to New York I sometimes missed Massachusetts.  But do I regret leaving academia?  No, I do not, not even a bit.  I am a happier and better person since I left.  My life has opened up in ways I would not have thought possible a two years ago.  It is hard to say whether I regret not leaving sooner, because I don't know if I could have done so, but if I had to make the choice a thousand more times, this would always be the right thing to do.

This weekend - well, I guess now I'd have to call it last weekend - I went to Nebraska for a friend's wedding.  The trip has largely faded into the mists of time (especially misty this week, what with a massive surplus of work, plus general fatigue) but I will try to recap the interesting bits.

• Immediately upon entering the Midwest, via the Milwaukee airport, I was shocked at the calmness, quietness, utter emptiness and desolation, etc.  This happens every time I leave New York.  I was confused and wrong-footed - where were all the people?  Also, why did gate agents and other strangers keep smiling at me and putting extra words in their sentences?  Renting a car, my travelling companion somehow ended up in an actual conversation with the rental agent, just because apparently when there are no people anywhere you really want to talk to all of them.
• We drove from Omaha to Lincoln.  In the dark.  It was not very interesting.
• Lincoln, however, is rather interesting.  They have this big farmer's market on Saturday mornings, which sells not only produce but also baked goods, meats and cheese, random ethnic foods (like, tamales... weird), and crafts.  They also have the most adorable little coffee shop with muffins and self-serve coffee and very friendly staff and tons of space and clientele who come in still wearing their biking gear.
• The wedding was in a church located across the street from the Nebraska capitol.  Which is very oddly shaped, for a state capitol.
• The bride wore her mother's dress and bright red shoes.  This was  awesome.
• The reception was, well, a wedding reception.  Dinner, dancing, and very good cake.  Midwesterners, by the way, can actually dance; my travelling companion (a native) told me it's because they "go dancing" on weekends, by which she means swing dancing, or salsa dancing, or something along those lines, as opposed to New Yorkers, who also "go dancing" but who use this phrase to refer to a drunken mating ritual.  This revived vague memories of the evenings spent at dance classes and an actual dance hall when I lived in Illinois.
• The next morning, I got to see more of the Lincoln area as we attended a post-wedding event at the bride's family's house.  Their suburbs are like suburbs back East, except cleaner and quieter and prettier.
• We returned to Omaha; this trip was more interesting than the trip down because it was daytime and we marvelled at the huge sky.  When I lived in Illinois, I could never get enough of the sky.
• In Omaha, I went for a run during which I saw the Old Market area (apparently every midwestern city has one), a park, the flooded river, and the convention center.  We went out for dinner and I had "warm duck salad" which was not authentically Midwestern but was very, very good.
• The next day we returned home.  Via Milwaukee again, where we were delayed and I was thrilled to purchase local sausage and cheese for lunch.

Also this short, uneventful week I saw the premiere of my brother's new film, which was very good (does he only work on good movies, or do I only ever see the good ones?) and reminded me of Hamlet, probably because I'm reading the Updike prequel, Gertrude and Claudius.

Awesome week

On Tuesday I saw Love, Loss, and What I Wore.  (Isn't it awesome that I can just, you know, say that?  Or rather that I can just, you know, do that?)  I'd been kind of wanting to see it for a very long time, but tickets seem to be always (a) sold out ages in advance, and also (b) extremely expensive.  This week they were discounted; either the show's popularity is finally starting to wane, or the summer weather and holiday weekend has dampened theater attendance.  Either way, I had a really fantastic seat - a side seat, but on the aisle and near the front and, the way the theater was laid out, with nobody directly in front of me.  The cast rotates, and the show I saw included two actresses I vaguely recognized (one of whom is, according to the program on Desperate Housewives) and Susan Sullivan, the brilliant actress behind, among other things, the uptight mother-in-law on Dharma and Greg.  The show is a series of monologues about clothing, mothers, clothing, friendship, clothing, love, clothing, purses, and clothing.  I couldn't identify with everything - a lot of the generational markers were clearly targeting an older crowd - but a lot of it was side-stitchingly funny.  I came away with a very strong sense of how women - across ethnic, class, and generational lines, regardless of their education or profession or outlook - share a common language and experience, the details which vary over time and from woman to woman, but the essence of which is constant.  Unfortunately, this essence is - underneath the funny stories about first bras and horrible bathing suits - a deep-seated fear of and ambivalence regarding one's own body.

On Wednesday I made another visit to Balade.  I love this place.  This time I had the Balade Pitza, which is not like normal pizza; it's pita with hummus and ground meat.  It was very, very good.

Yesterday - Thursday - I saw X-Men.  Everyone else in the theater was going to see Transformers.  I firmly believe that X-Men must have been the better movie, because it was very good, although I do think they played a little fast and loose with the Holocaust in the first half-hour.  That notwithstanding, it was exciting and interesting (although did drag a bit in the last third), was not markedly more sexist than the typical action movie, and - not being familiar with the X-Men from anything other than the movies - it was a lovely dose of backstory and of course made me want to watch all the other movies again.

Today I am going to Nebraska.  That should be interesting.