Vienna: Hotel room (and an ice bath)

My hotel room is awesome - huge with 15-foot ceilings and two humongous windows overlooking the street. It is completely multifunctional for quality sleep, work, bathing, and chilling out , with lovely well-considered amenities.  It is spare, but smart.  Euro Chic all the way.  Its modern and minimalist design enchants me. But while I'm charmed by some of the smart design details, at the same time I can find this design aesthetic impractical (once it's actually functioning, all the clean lines are lost) and uncomfortable (a little welcoming warmth and softness goes a long way for me).

In front of the windows, two small leather chairs stand on either side of a table-cum-fridge.  The platform bed faces the two windows.  It has crisp white sheets and a fluffy white duvet, punctuated by orange and red textured throw pillows.  Its brown-leather upholstered backboard on one side serves as a long counter running along the other side, incorporating a sink and a desk.  Along another wall, a long alcove houses a sleek armoire, a stand-alone tub on a platform open to the room, and a literal water closet holding the toilet.

It has been a long day - actually a blend of three long days since my departure from home.  Today's 2-hour flight from London to Vienna was much, much more grueling than anticipated - altogether a 7-hour journey by taxi, train, and delayed plane, arriving at my hotel just after midnight.  My ultimate arrival in this room - where I will spend the next four nights - is a welcome relief.  But, also way damn hot.  It seems Vienna has been balmy these last days, and it is 80 degrees and humid even at this late hour.  The a/c is doing its best, but not really working.

First things first. I put on the CD of (Austrian) music provided in the CD player.   I crack open a (Austrian) beer from the minibar, open some (Austrian) peanuts, and cut up an apple.  And when my simple dinner is finished, I indulge in the chocolate truffle left by my bedside.  I'm satisfied, and starting to feel my travel-induced grouchy edge begin to smooth out.

Then, still uncomfortably hot, I strip naked to unpack my bags.  It's my habit to settle into a hotel room even for a night.  Hanging up clothes, charging my gadgets on the desk, laying my toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink, arranging my Vogue magazine (and The Economist) on the little table where I enjoyed  the peanuts and beer, placing my book on the nightstand.  The room is not cooling down, however, and I can feel sweat droplets running down my neck and back, one drips onto my foot.

Unpacked, but still sweaty and uncomfortable, I ponder my next move.  The bath beckons, and I run an icy one - all cold! - complete with the bubblebath the hotel has thoughtfully provided.  A cold bubble bath - this might be my first.  I turn off all the lights in the room, and brace myself for the chill as I alight the tub's platform.  The first dip is a bit of a shock, but soon, I'm enjoying the refreshing cool bath, the dark room, and being able to see out the window to the night street. At long last, I relax.

The Hill is Home

The Hill is Home is a wonderful neighborhood blog about my little community.  After 8 years living here, I'm so pleased how my urban village it is organically developing.  It is diverse, but there is a common thread of an envisioned community that exists for young and dull, old an hip, families and singles  And all its fabulous-ness is generating some Hill Buzz.

I [HEART] cities (and David Byrne)

A Talking Head Dreams of a Perfect City  I stumbled upon this great article by David Byrne (of all people?) in the Wall Street Journal (of all places?).  It talks about the best elements of cities  - size, density, scale, mixed use, security, with a little danger and chaos,  and a little attitude all its own.  I like the way he references elements of each with references to his favorite cities, and how these blend to make the perfect city.

Grassroots Soccer

Excellent slideshow by photographer Jessica Hilltout on the grassroots soccer played throughout Africa on makeshift fields with soccer balls fashioned of rubber bands, stockings, and paper, and string.

Here's some amusing trivia from the accompanying article on Hilltrout's work.

The most oddly soulful of Ms. Hilltout’s images are of objects: the homemade balls fashioned by children from plastic bags, old socks and rags, tied up with string or strips of tree bark. Some children inflated condoms — commonplace and free on a continent beset by AIDS — wrapped them in cloth to make them heavy, then in plastic bags to seal them and finally bound them in twine. These ingenious, improvised balls bounce like real ones for a few days before the air escapes.

Hurray for Africa's ingenuity!

Revelations

It is my ideal to have a home-cooked sit-down family meal made of fresh, local food, plenty of veggies, and fish 2-3 times per week.

It is strategic when I do menu-planning, grocery shop weekly according to plan, prepare a make-ahead meal on Sunday for later in the week, and put the Farmer's Market on my calendar at work for every Thursday fromMay through November.

It is practical when I get the family fed, hopefully a reasonably healthy home-rprepared meal several times a week, with a fair amount of fruits and vegetables (often from Safeway), with little reliance eon junk food and take-out.  

The truth is I'm a working, single mom, with a full-time demanding job.  Sometimes the menus are not so well-planned.  Sometimes the weekly shopping is late or incomplete.  Sometimes I'm tired, and the kitchen is hot.  Sometimes the thing Dear Daughter wants to hear more than anything else  is, "Let's put on pj's, order pizza, and watch a video." (She is so thrilled, and this is a definite value trade over my ideal every once in a while).  Sometimes I need a treat and we go out for Mexican food, and I get a margarita. Every once in a while, we'll get an invitation to join another family at the pool on a Sunday and the make ahead meal is a no-go - another good value trade (and truth is that make-ahead meal doesn't get made all that often anyway). 

So what's my measurement of success?  I am certain to fail against my ideal.  It will never happen, and measuring myself against that is only obnoxious and demoralizing.  Against my strategic goals?  Well, certainly these help me strive for my ideal, and this gets accomplished some of the time.  But how did I do on a practical level?  Making the best of what life dealt that week?  Recognizing a good value trade even when it was in conflict to my ideal? On average,  did I - with my ideals in mind and strategies to realize them - make a healthy meal more often than not? On the balance does my family eat a good quality, balanced healthy diet?  Is takeout and junk food kept to a practical minimum?  I know when I'm slipping, and our takeout quotient is out of whack - it's usually externally driven.  Then back on track, back to plan, back to basics so I can succeed on a real-life level.

No subject

We're sorry.  La Nouvelle Observatrice is too hot, tired, uninspired, lazy, overextended, and overwhelmed (and underwhelmed, for that matter) to be her usual witty, brilliant, amazing, cool, fascinating self.  Please try again later.

What's left unsaid.

Louise filled the coffee pot with water, and measured out the coffee. One...two...three...she wasn't really counting; she stopped when it looked like enough. The empty wine bottle was on the counter from the night before. Recycle. There, the testament to the night was gone from their vision. "It's going to be a hot one. Ninety-five degrees." She turned toward the fridge, opened it up, and stared inside. "Do you want jam on your toast? I have blackberry." She closed the fridge again. Louise turned back toward the sink. She busied herself washing out the pan - running the water, watching the suds bubble over the rim, scrubbing the tiny black fleck of cooked-on dirt barely the size of her pinky nail with a green scouring pad. He looked on. "He must think I'm really diligent about pot-washing," she thought. She looked up at him, smiled, and looked away. "Do you know this song?  My sister loves it."  \She tried looking up again, and this time held his gaze for a moment longer. "I might go get a new filter for my a/c today.  \I don't know when the last time I replaced it was," she said, as if this were actually an interesting prospect for the day. "Coffee's ready. Do you take milk?," she said busying herself once again with two mugs, and two spoons, and the re-arranging of the fridge shelf to reach the milk. Her fingers touched his when she handed him the warm mug. They both lingered for a second, and then moved on.

The music on the stereo turned to something uptempo, a little too much for a lazy, unscripted morning.   She winced to herself.   She hadn't liked the silence either; she felt like she had to fill it.  But the music felt off, too - the wrong mood.  She wondered what the right mood music would be for the morning after.   Louise's thoughts resounded through her head like in a vast echo chamber. They were small, random, and probably inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but they took up a lot of space, and they were hard to dodge.  Like a hundred superballs in a racquetball court.  They were loud and active - searching for an escape route.  But she had sealed off all openings, and held them in check.  Her thoughts clashed anyway, each one in direct conflict to the other.  They ricocheted off the walls in her head - and collided with each other with bounces and rebounds.  What was the point of letting any one of them out if the next one would contradict it anyway?

Spanish-Inspired Summer Snacks

Inspired by Nigella Express, part of a longer, light dinner menu.

Parrano cheese with Fig Jam on Walnut Bread

Chick Pea and Spinach Salad

infused with cumin and sherry

Almonds

Cherries

Cava

chilled and sparkling

Top World Cup Players on Facebook, Day by Day

This makes for an interesting diversion - combine metrics, World Cup, Facebook, and what do you get?  Maybe nothing.  It seems sort of meaningless.  Or maybe it is a snapshot of where the world's hearts and minds are at a particular moment in time.  Or maybe what I like about it, if anything, is that data can be analyzed pretty easily in the digital age- where our very connected living allows for  a data set to be collected in real time and then be interpreted for something or other.

I [HEART] Carolyn Hax

Another favorite columnist - this one from the Washington Post - Carolyn Hax is an advice columnist for Real Life.  Here is today's column on marriage - it's the counterargument to the marriage cynic, without being all rosy about it.

I [HEART] Mark Bittman

Another one of my geek crushes is Mark Bittman - The Minimalist - food columnist for the Times.  He's smart, word-y, wry, witty.  I like his food philosophy - fresh, easy, local, simple.  He calls himself a "less-meatatarian."   I think MB is kinda handsome (way more handsome that my other NYTimes geek crush David Pogue, who I don't actually find that attractive,  but I'd still do his brain).

Here, MB does one of his simple, formulaic cooking primers, "101 Fast Recipes for Grilling," in which he takes some basics, prepares them simply, enhances with some complementary favor, and grills.  The glossy food porn is here.   And if you prefer to watch your food smut (and witness MB himself) here's the video where he grills a grilled cheese sandwich.

Scenes from a marriage

This article, Seeking to Pre-empt Marital Strife, reminded me at some futile attempts that Dear ex-Husband and I made to save ourselves and our marriage as we/it floundered.  We made three single attempts

At the first try, just over two years married, things had been really difficult between us for a long, long time.  I was very  pregnant (happily and intentionally) and desperate, and I begged DxH to go with me to counseling.  I knew we were in trouble, and knew having a child - any day now! - would change things forever, and likely add to our stress and tensions.  He reluctantly agreed, but we could not set up the first appointment until a few days past my due date.  It was a pretty good session, though we knew we wouldn't be able to go back again soon thereafter with our impending parenthood.  I went into labor about an hour after that very first marriage counseling session.  Later, I remember thinking Dear Daughter was smart enough not to come out until it was safe to do so.   I also remember thinking, "You know your marriage is in trouble when ______________." We made it another two years...barely.

In another pass, a year or so later, we drove out to Bethesda somewhere, and sat across from each other in two armchairs, hands on laps, facing each other.  This counselor encouraged us to talk to each other with her prompted questions.  It felt like reading from a script, and we were two really bad actors.  It didn't help.

The last time, right before/right after we separated (now 4 years ago), we tried a last ditch attempt to salvage things.   This time, DxH and I had such a ridiculously awful counselor, we went out for a Thai lunch afterward just so we could make fun of her whack sh*t!  The brief bonding alone probably made the session worth it.  Alas, it was way too late, though - sadly - I think we were actually doomed from the beginning.

Summer meal

Tonight's dinner was pretty simple, but absolutely scrumptiously so. I loved the colors and flavors. The hearty dark beans and rice were warmly spiced with a little cumin. The guacamole popped on plate and on palate with its bright green color and zing of lemon.   I added pureed frozen strawberries to the lemonade, giving it a refreshing chill, a bright pink hue, and sweet-tart taste.  And watermelon is always so cool, sweet, and juicy on a hot summer evening.

La Nouvelle Observatrice - Sports Section: USA vs. Ghana

USA played Ghana over the weekend for a disappointing 2-1 loss for our stars and stripes.  It was a great game, and I will give some of my novice observations here, albeit likely sub-consciously lifted from the commentator, and subtly influenced and validated by JS.

Ghana played a very tight game for a well-deserved win.  Our guys in the US are strong, solid, experienced players, and I have nothing but respect and admiration for their level of performance.  Maybe they "woulda, coulda" won the match, but admittedly not "shoulda" won because there were no horrific faulty calls, their one goal was a penalty kick, and Ghana played them strong.

First, our guys....I'm impressed with Feilhaber, who while not a starter was subbed in after the first half and really played hard and well.  He really showed up for the World Cup, and given more of a chance might have had an impressive performance. He had some good time with the ball and worked for the team.  Dempsey was also strong; and sports some very cute facial scruff.  Altidore has what it takes, and played well; Jozy Altidore is a good soccer name.  Bornstein was solid, but I sensed under-performing.  Edu and Buddle registered on my not-very- finely-tuned screen.  Donavan is a superstar.  Clearly, he is the celebrity of the team.  Most of that is deserved - he is amazing, he carries the day, he is a Soccer God.  But more importantly, it's nice to see his confident humility off the field.  I don't know much about him before, but it seems his arrogance has mellowed, and his maturity bloomed since the last World Cup in 2006.  He's good, he's really good, and he knows it - but he seems to recognize his own (and more broadly, one's own) fallibility, and that nothing, not even a winning streak fueled by innate talent cultivated with tough training, is a given.  I really hope things work out with his wife from whom he is currently separated, but perhaps reconciling (See Bianca).  Nice sportsman, Donavan!  And perhaps a nice soccer Love Story to boot - my kind of World Cup!

Now, Ghana...It's nice to see Africa with a strong showing on the home continent.  Africa, it seems, has an uphill battle, with just about everything.  Every win for Africa is all the more meaningful, because it is not only what Africa has achieved, but also what it has overcome.  It is a sweeter victory.  As mentioned, Ghana played a beautiful game. As a casual fan, I was impressed with their control of the ball and of the game, their tight, accurate passing and plays, and very nice technical skills.  It was interesting to hear from the commentator that Ghana has the youngest team playing in the World Cup, with an average age of 25.  To use a virility metaphor, this may be indeed the key to their success.  Team Ghana, it seems has the power, the explosiveness and the stamina of a young 25 year-old stud; yet despite their youth, surprisingly also has the discipline, control, patience, form, and self-possession of a more seasoned and skilled lover a few decades older.  That lovely balance is hard to find both on and off the soccer field.

Summer Picnic

Match.com

Here's another doozy...wonder why he's never been married?

1. He likes his women locked up (and probably knocked up)

To get started, I was not married, but grew up in a household with strong family values and believe that women and children must be protected.

2. He values long-term thinking, a broad location, and is not sure if hanging onesef is part of a healthy or unhealthy lifestyle

Marriage has always been interest, but unfortunately I have not found the right person as chemistry, and long-term thinking is very important. My interests - a broad location and living a healthy lifestyle, eating well, not smoking and hanged himself, to stay in good physical condition. 

3. His cave only sleeps one.

I am - an early riser and like to spend time in my cabin in the woods, hunting, archery and other outdoor activities. 

4. He's right about women being complicated, but even so, it seems he might find an ATM machine complicated, too.

I feel that women are very complicated, so my partner has to share her thoughts and feelings with me in a positive way, since open communication is the most important. 

5. Overlooking the omitted words "looking for," and just noting that seeking someone who is conscious is a good starting point.

I'm loyal woman with a big smile, who cares, happy, humorous, reliable, honest, conscious health and physically fit. 

6. What?!?!

Just as important, my partner should be proud of themselves and the environment itself is sufficient, not necessarily financially, but there may be a passion in life, which is only for her. 

7. Is he looking for a person or a thing?

Additionally, it should be adventurous, to enjoy the outdoors and nature as well as graceful at lunch and evening on the town. It should be comfortable with living country and is not afraid to offer his hand, but still would enjoy the culture of the city. 

 Ok, since I want to be a nice, kind person, and not feel so mean and judgmental, he gets bonus points for open-mindedness.  And I'd like to believe there's someone out there for everyone, so I hope he finds her.

While I have a stable understanding of what intrigue me about the woman, I am open to discovering a new and mutual interests.

The Pursuit of Happiness

Sigh.  I've worked long and hard to get here these last years...maybe not perfect happiness, but a sense of peace, contentment, acceptance, enjoyment, and appreciating the moment.  And I'm not sure that the state I'm in in a lasting one; in fact, I'm a bit nervous that it could go away at any moment.  And truthfully, I hate the whole polyanna principle -so annoying it makes me gag.  I enjoy - nay, cherish -  my edge, my skepticism, my cynical bite.  Thank god for those.  But here I am, as if a switch has flipped on, and I have found peace and contentment on more days than not.  I am satisfied.  I am grateful (not  "practicing gratefulness," just grateful to have such a cool life).  I accept the imperfections and the minor irritations, and don't try to wrangle them to submission anymore (perhaps this is my greatest revelation of late).

While it's been a long process, the turnaround seemed to happen as I headed into my 40th birthday - just feeling all-around good.  I remember being in Paris, and eating a salad from a cellophane container from a bakery, and stating it was the best salad I had ever had.  My friend looked at me skeptically.  But it was the moment, *that* moment, of eating a salad of beets and sweet corn with a dijon vinaigrette; sitting on the cool concrete staircase along the Seine (and because of those cool, concrete steps, I truly *felt* them in the moment); the gentle evening light as dusk approached; my last night in Paris after a very satisfying, fully-earned, long-anticipated vacation. The whole thing made that the best salad of my entire life.  Obviously, I'm not making that up, because it is over 2 months later, and I can relive the details while writing this.  I had other such moments during  my Paris trip - the best beer, the best cup of coffee, the best crepe au sucre.

And every once in a while, here, back in the grind, I have those moments again.  Wow, what a gorgeous evening on my porch, looking at the lush green grass (it looks especially green and unweed-y tonight), a child is laughing and a dog is barking, the weather is just perfect with a light breeze, and I am truly relaxed and happy.

I've had a long road since my separation from Dear-ex-Husband - just over four years now.  It was Hell.  My world turned upside down.  Everything felt so uncertain and shitty.  And everything was.  And instead of getting slowly better, as we separated in May 2006 and I re-found my temporary grounding (in fact I remember feeling pretty high on life a year later in 2007), it turned temporarily worse. Life took a steady, and seemingly unending nosedive later that fall, and into the next fall (2008) and winter (2009), and even some pretty endless annoyances as late as August and September 2009.  These years weren't years of complete darkness. In this time, I took a fabulous trip to China, and had many cherished experiences and moments.  But the overall was a total slog, and completely uphill exhausting.   And then - slowly, but also at a relatively identifiable time in retrospect (maybe it was November 2009, maybe February 2010) -  it all eased.  And clear river currents began to flow again.

I have put conscious inputs to this happiness.  First, I identified what made me happy and vowed to do more - cooking, swimming, going to All Souls Church.  At some point, I calculated I was doing 3-5 hours per week of tasks solely related to actively  investing in my well-being (1 hour of swimming, 1 hour of church, 1 hour of counseling/therapy, a 45-min meditation CD that was regular company in September 2008).  I felt good during and after each, but wondered aloud when it would actually kick-in long-term.  I mean, 4+ hours of dedicated "me" time for inner restoration seemed almost excessive to me.  It wasn't like the rest of my life- hours were all slog.  I went to to movies, met friends, took hikes, read books to my daughter, had some steamy make-out sessions.

I still wonder what the hell is next.  I still find that my job can suck the life out of me some days. I can be racked by stress.  But here it is, and here I am.  I'm not expecting a perma-state of contentment, but I do seem to have some lasting coping skills, and new perspective, that I hope to drawn upon forever after -when I need it and also when I don't.

OMG. Hold me back...the iPhone 4 is here!

I like design.  I like tech.   I like sexy.  But for years now, despite the drool, I have not yet caved into buying an iPhone.  I suppose this is for a few reasons.

First, I'm not really an early adopter.  I like to follow what's going on, but I can be a bit of a skeptic, so I wait to see if the hype actually delivers.  I also like when those other early adopters pay the price and suffer the bugs while I wait it out.

Second, I'm too cheap.  I wouldn't describe myself as frugal.  I like stuff.  I like nice stuff.  I spend money, sometimes lots, sometimes too much.  I'm not typing this while lying on my mattress stuffed with $100's for my "rainy day fund."  Alas, not.  But I do feel a little better about myself when I resist the temptation, when I don't spend frivolously, when I delay my gratification, when I anticipate... when, at last,  I somehow make a calculation - both financial and psychological, and probably more psychological than financial - that I am finally ready to make the purchase.

And finally, I wait, and wait, and wait, and procrastinate.  First, for my stupid Verizon contract to end (October, then January for my second line).  Then, to see if Apple will open up its exclusive contract with AT&T (it did not).  Then, for the announcement that the iPhone 4 was being released (June), with the all important multitask features, and whatever other (smart) bells and whistles it boasts.

All that has come to pass, and the iPhone 4 is in stores tomorrow.  The reviews are excellent.  I completely [HEART] David Pogue, who loves the iPhone 4, and if he told me to drink the KoolAid, I totally would.  Here's a David Pogue NYTimes video review of iPhone vs Android phones - this is like delicious smut to me!

So my purchase is imminent, but not quite immediate.  I'm sort of waiting for my next paycheck (June 30) or the one after that (July 15).  And I kind of can't decide if I will buy before or after my Europe trip (July 14-19) so I can get used to a new phone and new apps and new plan....But in any case, I'm getting an iPhone, at last! and really, really, really soon...and I can't wait!

Design for the Other 90%

This exhibit at the National Geographic Hall in DC sounds fabulous (and free!).

Of the world’s 6.5 billion people, 5.8 billion, or ninety percent, often lack the means to purchase even the most basic goods. Design for the Other 90% explores a growing movement to design low-cost solutions for those not traditionally served by professional designers. Entrepreneurs, engineers, students, professors, and architects from around the globe are devising cost-effective ways to improve access to water, food, energy, education, healthcare, revenue-generating activities, and affordable transportation. This exhibition demonstrates how design can be a dynamic force in saving and transforming lives, at home and around the world.

I find this design space very fascinating.  Design for the hip and wealthy is cool and fun, but what about functional, low-cost, low-tech, appropriate design that can improve the lives of the world's poor?

I've always been a fan of Path, a global health organization in Seattle for their global health programs and technology around this principle (PATH once stood for Program for Appropriate Technology in Health, but they've long abandoned the root of their acronym, and simply are known as Path these days).  Path has developed the Uniject, which allows low-skilled, "lightly trained" health workers to give vaccinations with single-use, pre-filled injection needles (reducing user-error and disease transmission through re-usable syringes). They've also developed a sticker that indicator if vaccines have spoiled from temperature extremes or rough rides in its arduous journey from pharma-plant to rural village.  And they are looking at the food industry to learn lessons about improving the thermo-stability of vaccines so that the delicate cold chain requirements of vaccine transport can be overcome.  Path has other cool health design projects for the other 90%.  One of my favorites is the ground-breaking work Path is doing on developing a microbicide to give a women the ability to protect herself from HIV- (and other STD-) transmission without depending on her partner to use condoms or be monogamous (two dicey propositions in the reality of many women's lives).

There are other neat industrial design innovations for the other 90% - the handcrank radio, the $100 laptop, the insecticide-treated bednet, among others.  And mobile phone technology is being used for everything from banking to refugee family reunification.  Mobile phones have become low-cost and widely accessible to the poor, making this technology potentially limitless in connecting the poor not only in their family and social networks, but also for education and economic participation.  Amazing!

Brilliant!

This brilliant bridge design gently coaxes cars from driving on the left in Hong Kong to driving on the right in mainland China.

Have a *BLEEP* day.

Some days are just totally off.  Like today.  Admittedly, I woke up feeling grouchy, contrary, and dying to pick a fight,  and the universe just kicked my ass right back.

It started in the morning in the get-ready time, my daughter dawdling with the umpteenth squiggle on her Father's Day card, instead of getting ready for school.  And when it was time to leave, and we were already late, I look down at her feet "Shoes?!?!" What are you doing making rainbows on a school morning when your shoes aren't on when it's time to go??"

And then, school enrollment for next year.  I'm standing in line, papers in hand.  And when I get to the front, I learn that my Pepco bill is not enough to prove residency.  I must have a *receipt* for a paid Pepco bill.  First, of all then why does the form say a utility bill can be presented as a form of ID?  Second, when was the last time anyone got a receipt for paying their power bill?  And third, how many non-residents are knocking down the doors to enroll their kid in the nation's worst school district anyway?

I decide this is a day I will drive to work, and not just one but 2 parking lots are full.  The third is the most expensive.

Late for my first meeting with our HR manager, who is running four hiring searches for my team, I joke that we all need to have full time house managers to take care of all the household management like scheduling appointments, waiting for repairmen, and taking care of school enrollment.  She proceeds to tell me about the three estimates for her apple tree stump removal, and the contractor who can't come to her house at a convenient time.  (She works from HOME?!?)  So I say, I know what you mean, this school enrollment thing and doctor's appointments for my kid are sucking up all my time.  And she proceeds to tell me about taking care of her geriatric, disabled....dog (!) who wears diapers, and she most hold his haunches in the air to help him pee, and move her legs out of the way, so it doesn't splash her.  I am sympathetic (I swear), but not today.  And it's only 10am!!!!

A clueless colleague is back from her trip, so my babysitting duties are back on.  And the other one is nagging me 5 x a day about starting the process for a project that nobody, except her, thinks is a good idea, and I said we would talk about it after July 1....but there's always "one more thing" to tell me first.  I want to stick a rag in her blathering mouth, but remind myself that workplace violence is contrary to our organizational values.   I learn that a proposal for a new project that everyone objects to is back on, because our President, Big Boss Lady, went ahead and asked the most junior staff member to write the proposal so she could side-step the rest of our concerns.  And the facilitator we're trying to hire for our retreat spoke so much jargon babble in our conference call, I wondered if if just wasn't creating sentences using magnetic poetry ("The organizational dynamic is functional for goals and interpersonal success on the pathway to outcomes when the team has integrative results." What?!?! ) Please shoot me now.

But nobody was kind of enough to put me out of my misery.  So in three more meetings and/or calls, I'm interrupted by Dear ex-Husband who needs to know if daughter has pj's in her bag; a call from a camp (my last resort) that they are indeed oversubscribed; and my au pair who leaves a message that daughter has a fever, a sore throat, and is now sleeping on the couch.  Sometime just before 5, as I'm trying to leave to take care of said sick kid,  a colleague decides to engage me in a lengthy discussion on the merits of various types of performance reviews.  And as I'm heading out the door at nearly 6, I'm asked if I could just sign some checks.  "No," I say, "It's almost 6, my kid is sick.  I'm gone for the day" before taking pity on the poor guy, and signing the two checks on the way out.

Trafic - nay, gridlock! - on the way home for no apparent reason.  I finally get home.  The house is a disaster; my kid is lethargic on the bed; the internet is down; and does anyone know what's for dinner?  We're out of sick provisions - juice, rice, apple sauce - and there's only one dose of children's Tylenol.  Dear daughter asks for the bucket so she can throw up, but instead just proceeds to cry into the toilet bowl - which makes an awful racket, and I briefly consider if I could just flush myself down the toilet, and live with the rats in the sewer, because that seems relatively appealing.

My original plan was to cook dinner and go for a swim- the one thing that might actually pull me out of this hellhole.  But the sick kid and the necessary Safeway run preclude such sanity-saving measures.  9pm,  and the kid is drugged up and in bed.  Peace descends on the house.  I look around at the various pieces of wreckage. Au pair says she's had a rough day, and is going out for a much-needed drink.  Yup, right there with you, babe.

From my sub-conscious - XXX

I've had three vivid and whack dreams in the last two nights.   One I don't remember, another was work-related.  The third was pretty much a porn flick in my head, and I was the porn star:-)  Very vivid, very graphic, very steamy.  I can rewind part of the dream in my head, and re-play.  Very nice.  :-)

(Narcissistic stunts + Teenage invincibility + Reckless parents)/Reality TV = Recipe for Disaster

When Abby Sunderland decided to set a record by becoming the youngest person to sail around the world, I was already bothered.  This culture of the first, best, fastest, youngest at any cost, at any risk, and any poor judgement is already just plain unfathomable to me.  She is still a child - or worse - a teenager! - and teenagers already think they are invincible - which is why they can't drive or drink, let alone take on the forces of nature...on the Indian Ocean...in monsoon season...solo!!!  For what it's worth (file under Lessons Not Learned), the Sunderland eldest son, Zac, has already circumnavigated the globe solo at the age of 17, and returned to a hero's welcome.  I'm not sure if its her or her parents, or a horrific combination of both, but the sheer narcissism is mind-boggling.  This is what happens when you have too much money or too much time (or a reality tv show producer following your every move).

*KKGGKSFGINGWEPFOJ*  [sound of banging head on keyboard].

And then, she almost dies.  In a massive storm with 20 foot swells, her wee boat gets jostled about around, and the mast gets knocked off.  Abby activates an emergency locator beacon, and waits for help with her Girl Scout Emergency Provisions Kit.   Never fear!  The government of Australia charters a  plane to go search the high seas for her 40-foot speck of a boat, and establishes contact. The nearest seaworthy vessel is dispatched 20 hours to go rescue our Dear Abby.

Of course, I'm relieved that Ab is OK; and would not wish otherwise.  And yes, I'm fine that search and rescue works, no matter the reason for the pinch we're in.  But it does seem like the additional expense (estimated at $300,000) to divert national resources because of an attempt to be in the Guinness Book of World Records, or more likely Bravo TV, seems horribly wasteful, presumptuous and wrong.

And while perhaps it should not be part of this rant, the Sunderland family consists of mom, dad, 6 home-schooled kids, with another one on the way.

*JFGIRLGHEIORGHEGJRGJRLG* (Ouch.)

Weather Section

Today: Beastly hot.

Here's the more official forecast from my guys at the Capital Weather Gang.

Opera Company of Philadelphia "Flash Brindisi"

April 24, 2010: The Opera Company of Philadelphia did a flash mob at the city's Reading Terminal Market.   The opera company surprised the unassuming lunch crowd by performing Brindisi from La Triaviata on the fly. Love it!

La Nouvelle Observatrice - Sports Section

As noted, I'm not a huge sports fan, nor sports-knowledgeable.  I do enjoy watching the finals of most any sport.  I tend to root for the underdog (but not always) or my favorite city/country regardless of individual team/athlete skill, record, or other more pertinent facts.   For someone who really just doesn't much care, I can still get totally caught up in a nail biter.

I missed the men's final of the French Open (I love the way Roland Garros just rolls off the tongue).  But in an effort to demonstrate just how superficial I can be, here's what I liked about the match and it's winner, Rafael Nadal.  He's totally cute with that shaggy long hair.  He's hot and  sweaty.  He's Spanish (makes me think of my other favorite Spanish things - Madrid, tapas, and wine).  He played Robin Solderling from Sweden  -  another favorite place (makes me think of a great Midsommer holiday and enviable social policy). 

Not sure how I missed this watching this one.  There's always Wimbledon...coming up!

2010 Design Challenge - 2nd Nomination (Branding, Culture/Arts)

Here's a local nomination: The Washington Ballet's Nutcracker communications materials - programs, publicity, etc. produced by Design Army, a local firm located in the hip-fringe-destination-cum-ghetto, H St NE  Very bold, modern, festive with a Washington twist.  It takes the stuffiness out of ballet. [Note: Because of the flash player on Design Army's site, you can't see the comms materials in the link. If you're interested in checking it out, click on Design on the home page (linked above), then branding, scroll down to Washington Ballet Nutcracker, and enjoy!  It's worth it.]

Artistic Director Septime Webre has really re-envisioned the Nutcracker story to depict Revolutionary Times. The Nutcracker is George Washington, the Mouse King is King George III of England; the family Christmas party takes place in a Georgetown mansion with a special party guest, Frederick Douglas.  Later, in the land of the Sugar Plum Fairies (or in this case the Cherry Blossom Fairies), fantasy scenes depict other Americana and Washington references - the Anacostia Indians, Daniel Boone's frontier, southern river boats and hot-air balloons set against the back-drop scenery of the Tidal Basin in springtime.  It's a refreshing interpretation of the Russian Tchaikovsky ballet, and perfect for a DC and DC-tourist audience.

Design Army's branding materials carry this freshness and energy through, and help define the experience.  Nice deal - great design, local players, arts and culture space.  Hurray!

2010 Design Challenge - 1st Nomination (Public/Non-profit Space Logo/Graphics Category)

Need I say more?
It says it all.  Instantly recognizable.  Iconic.  Powerful. Symbolic. Branded with Cause/Identity. 
Designed in 2006-2007 by Sender LLC.  

More Massimo Vignelli - and a Contemporary Iconic Graphics Design Challenge!

Last week, I blogged about the updated NYC subway map, and referenced the 1972 version by Massimo Vignelli.  I enjoyed his rendition because of it's simple, conceptual, modernist interpretation - while acknowledging that it might actually not be so pragmatic (kind of important for a subway map, and should be a hallmark of good design).

Well, today, I learned that Vignelli also did all the DC Metro signage  (1968) (those pylons with the big M), as well as the National Parks Service publications program (1977) (those familiar maps and tri-fold brochures for everything from the the Grand Canyon to Great Falls to Independence Mall).  It seems like he had quite a hey-day from 1968 to 1977 on big city, big works projects.  In many ways, these symbols have become instantly recognizable and iconic.

So here's my 2010 Design Challenge -  All this got me thinking about what's present-day visionary, so I'm going to challenge myself (and my readers :-) to find some contemporary graphics design indicative of our times.  In many ways, to become iconic, they must stand the test of time, and become synonymous and recognizable as part of its brand identity.  So while I'd like to limit my challenge to 21st century - 10 years in already!), I will go as early as designs from 1995 and later.  I realize some of my first thoughts for this challenge are disqualified because they pre-date my contemporary criteria - for example Apple and Nike logos. Also, because really I have no idea what I am talking about, I'm going to limit the challenge to the graphics space (logos, typeface, communications, branding); rather than the products space (ex: iPod, Prius, VW bug). And this makes me think that new-retro - e.g. the Mini Cooper and Vespa - shouldn't count).  It would be nice to have both a private/corporate category  as well as a public/ non-profit category (museums, non-profits, fed and gov projects, etc.).   Can you tell I'm making this up as I type?  Fun!!

P.S. I know people way more qualified than I do this for a living, and that there are awards, magazines, and museums devoted to all this.  This challenge is for me (and anyone else who wants to weigh in) to think about what's modern, iconic, and visionary - and yes, I think I'm more interested in graphics for the non-profit and civic space than big corporate brands with lots of $$ to make it happen.

World Cup 2010 (2)

I thoroughly enjoyed this article about goalkeepers whinging about the new design of the official World Cup 2010 ball.  So irreverent and cheeky - some of my favorite qualities.



Some hysterical quotes:

Basically, the ball is being criticized for being too light and too curvy, as if it were a fashion model who eats too little food and has too much plastic surgery.

and

The ball was designed to be groovier than a Beach Boys album, made of molded polyurethane panels with a grippy feel, and engineered to provide the shooter maximum control. It has been tested in wind tunnels. Robots whacked at the ball to simulate free kicks and corner kicks. The party-hearty wives and girlfriends of England’s players took it out and got it drunk. 

as well as great soccer trivia with vivid imagery:

In less affluent parts of the world, some youngsters grow up playing soccer with balls made of old shirts or plastic bags. Sissi, a star with Brazil in the 1999 Women’s World Cup, used to kick around the heads of her dolls.

and some sobering sports stats:

Goal scoring has gone down, not up, over the decades at the World Cup, peaking at 5.4 goals per game in 1954 and dropping to 2.3 in 2006.

Keep those eyes pealed to the tube, or you might miss the goal!

World Cup 2010

Hurray World Cup! - the truly global sports event that comes along but every 4 years.  Hurray South Africa!  First African nation to host this event, despite the continent's absolute fever, affinity and aptitude for the sport.

Admittedly, this entry makes me seem perhaps more feverish than I actually am for soccer/fooball/futbal.  I'm not a true fanatic about any sport. And in fact, I would get quickly busted if pushed to any sort of knowledge of the rules/regs of the game, team trivia (or even team names for that matter - did someone say Arsenal? Real Madrid?), hot players (how 'bout that Pele - oops, ancient history! - maybe Beckham (b. 1975, practically an old man) or Ronaldo?  But, I recognize hot when I see it) or great moments in sports history.  But I am easily caught up in the historical sports moment - be it Venus facing off her sister Serena in the finals at Centre Court at Wimbledon, Michael Phelps swimming for his record gold, and yes, that World Cup final, semi-final, quarter-final match.

Despite my limited depth here, I do have a special appreciation for the game.  I love that it is played all over the world, and is accessible to all.  I have seen soccer played by kids on the side of the road, barefoot, with a makeshift, heavily duct-taped ball in Mexico.  I have watched people gather around a tiny, black-and white television full of the fuzz of bad reception outside a kiosk shop or watering-hole-cum-former-shipping container to watch the Africa Cup final in Malawi.  I adore the fans' undying allegiance to their team.  And while I find the whole hooliganism thing a turn-off, I do appreciate their passionate, vehement - ok, alcohol-fueled - raucous energy they bring to a match.  I also enjoy the Adidas brand's longstanding affiliation with the sport - co-branded practically when nobody else was looking.  (Adidas = "All Day I Drink And Smoke, "All Day I Dream About Sex."Am I the only one who remembers that?)

So many sports are nation/culture-defined.  Cricket? - So British, or really, more Indian these days!  Curling? - I think Nordic Vikings.  Baseball?  US, plus some  Cuba and Japan (how random is that?)!  Football? - Now that's completely American!  Rugby?  UK and Australia.  Hockey?  US and Canada.  Other sports are obscure, elite, and require special equipment.  Tennis - rackets and whites.  Golf - a set of archaic clubs and acres of rolling hills of manicured greens (environmental nightmare).  But soccer - of the people, by the people, for the people - has low barriers to entry, cuts across the class divide, and as best as I can tell, is played pretty much everywhere.

So World Cup is upon us - and I will be following. At least as much as someone who calls herself La Nouvelle Observatrice, and whose long-term plan is to give Nigella Lawson a run for her money, can be expected to follow these sporting thingies.

BP Oil leak continues

When I saw this slide show of wildlife affected by the BP oil spill disaster, I began to cry.  Right now, I'm even more sad than angry - and that's troubling.

Can't blog...

I've been a little quiet in my blogging lately.  I have a few half-started entries on things that I find notable:

- The enormous sinkhole in Guatemala, and other natural disasters - can you imagine your house being swallowed up by the Earth one day?;
- Al and Tipper Gore splitting up - makes me sad and disillusioned. Not that I actually know them or anything, let alone know their marriage (other people's marriages are always an enigma);
- Another Match.com absurd email (because they're entertaining, and keep my perspective)
- And Women on the Verge - the end of nervous breakdowns, bring on the new diagnoses of vital exhaustion and burn-out syndrome

But I'm tired these days, and can't seem to put together a coherent sentence, and I have all these thoughts jumbled in with a bunch of mental junk - to be sorted, but later.

So I'll just say, I'm still here...if you're out there...and I'm waiting for some return of inspiration

Match.com

Oh dear. This potential suitor just "winked" at me. Here are some lowlights from his profile.

I am hard working and determined, I have great Morales guided by the Lord. I am a very easy going, fun-loving person! I enjoy meeting new people...I am non-judge-mental, but I can't deal with negative, rude and drama llamas....

and it continues...

I'd like to meet a very special woman who should be cute or charming if possible. She must be very disciplined and understanding, romantic and very down to earth. I'd love it if she could be compatible with me with if not all but most of the things we share in common. I am no particular about color. She must be very tight, friendly and must have a face the melts a hardened hearth. ... If this is You... Are you ready?

Wow, Great Morales? and Non-judge-mental? Looking to meet a very special women (no drama llamas need apply) who should be cute and charming if possible? Oh, and also very tight?

Well, if I don't laugh I'll cry, so I laughed so hard I snorted with tears running down my face. Thank god I wasn't drinking a coke or it would have come out of my nose!!

I am so mean. Dating sucks.

I [HEART] maps. I [HEART] NY.

The New York City subway map has been updated.  This is the basic map that has been updated and edited since 1979.  It widens Manhattan, shrinks Staten Island, turns the parks from emerald to olive, and deepens the blue of the Hudson and East Rivers.  It removes extraneous information, like bus connections and landmarks - helpful, but crowded. It looks bolder and cleaner, as seen in the great interactive map feature of the New York Times online.

The previous map, introduced in 1972, designed by Massimo Vignelli, was more stylized and abstract.  I actually quite like it, from an artistic point of view at least.  More conceptual than practical, which is not great for tourists.  I enjoyed this description of the Vignelli map:

It was accurate in the same way a poem could describe a playground in March. Descriptive and accurate. But sometimes puzzling. People got lost using it. 

Here are links to the DC Metro and the London Underground maps.

I love maps.  I love NY.  I love subways and decent public transport.  I love design.

Menu: Springtime Sunday Supper

Inspired by a similar supper at LG and BL's Paris apartment.  Great friends, great food, great light streaming through very large windows.

White Pizza

- with caramelized leeks and spring peas

Beetroot Salad

- with crunchy carrots and walnuts

Dessert

Assorted beverages on offer

- Beer, wine (red, rose and white), G&T, etc.

Less off-shore drilling; more off-shore wind farms

The BP oil leak that continues gushing unabated in the Gulf of Mexico is a horrific tragedy.

I have always found wind farms beautiful.

I'm hardly an expert.  I know it's more complicated than all that, but...

Imagine.  Clean, renewable energy.  Energy independence. Increased global security.  Just seems like it would be mo' better.

The Afterlife of Stieg Larsson

Wow! The drama and intrigue of the late Stieg Larsson's family and long-term lover are nearly as compelling as his novel, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which I blogged about here.

That novel, the first installment of the Millennium trilogy crime thriller series, was wildly successful. All three books are soaring best sellers, translated into multiple languages, and adapted into mainstream films.  All of that translates to -  as we say here in the 'hood - "BANK!"  But Larsson, who died at the age of 50 of a massive heart attack before the first book was even published, has never seen a single cent...er...a single Swedish kroner.  Without a will, that money (which just keeps pouring in) goes to his estate, his brother and father. His long-term lover and partner of 30+ years, Eva Gabrielsson,  is not recognized under Swedish law.  With no children together, and having never gotten married to Larsson, she is Nobody.  Interesting, that in socially liberal Sweden, there is no such thing as common-law marriage - only the real deal (gay or straight) traditional "Married"  with a capital "M."

And the bitterness, allegations, insinuations, and accusations are flying...Money! Who gets all the dough?  What is she entitled to? His brother and father were legally awarded half the apartment that Larsson and Gabrielsson shared, then demanded an arrangement of Gabrielsson to buy them out, and later caved to social and moral pressure to just give her the Larsson half outright.  Mystery!  What were Larsson's intentions?  And now even, who wrote the books? She has alluded that she had a hand in creating them.   Family strife! She says Larsson was estranged from his brother and father. Psycho girlfriends!  Brother and father say, of course, that Gabbrielsson is "mentally unstable."  (Grrrr...don't get me started on that one!)  Revenge!  Despite it all, she still holds a great hand of cards.  Why?  Because Gabrielsson just happens to have Larsson's laptop with the nearly complete manuscript, outline, and notes of a 4th novel .  That's right, folks, more "BANK!"

So, there's quite a drama behind the crime thriller trilogy.  The subtext, the sub-plot, the intrigue make for a whole other bestseller.  I'm fascinated! - and staying tuned for the next installment of Reality Lit.

Pizza perfecto

Run this slide show and drool....

I [HEART] blogging

So, I was thinking the other day how much I personally enjoy blogging.  Whether I have any readers, or not; whether they agree with what I have to say, or not; whether I have anything interesting to say (to others besides myself), or not.

Perhaps it is a narcissistic exercise.  Perhaps it is a lot of hot air.

However, what I enjoy is the creative outlet it provides me to write.  I do love to write (whether I'm any good, or not), and I love words.  I have sought such an outlet for many years, something that would get me out of the scope of strategy memos for work and emotional purges in a journal.  I've considered taking a creative writing class many times - but can't commit the time, let alone take the pressure to produce on deadline or for scrutiny.  This blogging outlet allows me to write short, polished, published pieces about things I care about and ponder over with absolutely no pressure to produce.

It has been therapeutic (like my swimming regimen) to have this creative outlet away from my real life and responsibilities (though it does reflect those real life responsibilities). It allows me to consider my life and my world (and aren't we all the center of our own universe?) with some distance, perspective, and sometime humor (or not) as an "observer" - maybe even a clearer sense of self.  I enjoy writing from this Nouvelle Observatrice "alter ego" - who I would be and who I am, if I did not have real life responsibilities, obligations, and stress - a  traveler, a lover, a foodie, an amateur connoisseur of art, design, politics, people and culture). Admittedly, I enjoy reading my own blog sometimes, and remembering the experiences and seeing from whence I've come.

I choose to keep this blog publicly un-linked to my real name because I do have real life obligations, responsibilities, and a "public" work life - and I wish to keep them separate from this.   I have shared my blog with people who are not within that sphere.  And if a reader should stumble here, I would be easily recognized by someone with whom I'm acquainted (something for which I suppose I should be prepared if it were to happen at the wrong time or in the wrong way).  Then again, should that happen, I would not hide from who I am or what I've said.

All that said, when I re-read my blog, it seems like I'm a lot more "balanced" than I actually am, more "balanced" than I actually feel.  I certainly have fucked up my life as much (and as little) as anybody.  I have some regrets; and I have some points of pride.  I am not all that I can and could be. These days I'm working on being my true self (warts and all)  and acceptance - of me, of others - on all the rest, which just might be a taller order than all that striving for perfection/self-flagellation shit I'm used to.

Match.com

Another doozy *introductory* email from a potential Match suitor...

I am a Godfearing,Hardworking,sincere, honest, sensuous, sensitive faithful and passionate man! An American, black hair and black eyes! People who knows me say that I look much younger than my age! I want a future relationship with a woman who is sincere and has very strong values about honesty, truthfulness, faithfulness and is very passionate about life and love! she has to have a very strong urge for a very passionate sexual life with his partner in life.I will tell you more about me when next i read from you...

Honestly, with or without a steady squeeze, I'm alright, thanks!  Despite - well, everything - I do admire that that he is willing to put himself on the line, and bonus points for knowing what he wants.  I'm tempted to ask him to express in quantifiable terms what he means by a " very strong urge for a very passionate sexual life" (desired duration, frequency, etc.) to see if I qualify ;-)   *Sigh.*

Just in time...

Another cloud of volcanic ash hovering over northwestern Europe has closed Heathrow (again).  *So* grateful, I got out on Friday.  My life just can't afford anything unplanned right now. ;-)

Ha!  Is the universe laughing yet?  I'm well aware - more than ever, more than many, shall we say? - that everything in life is unexpected.  I just happened to escape this particular surprise.

Tate Modern (Cy Twombly - Take 2)

I had a few hours before my flight Friday morning  to go to the Tate Modern.  Simply fantastic.  A wonderful collection of modern and contemporary art, as well as quite the visitor experience in looking at, thinking about, questioning, and creating one's own art.  I loved that it did not take itself too seriously. In fact, at times, seemed to question its own curation of the collection in mentioning how time, space and perspective can help shape and define, and even change, art's (a period, a genre, an artist) appreciation and significance.  Somewhat in the way history is also viewed and reviewed in perspective over time, place, and context, and of course, how history can be re-visited and reinterpreted.

The Tate Modern is housed in the formidable and re-adapted former Bankside Power Plant in Southwark along the Thames.  There were several wings I wanted to explore, as well as the rooftop restaurant, but I was only able to check out one.  The others will have to wait for my next visit.  Material Gestures, the third floor wing, I visited, is described thusly:

At the heart of this wing is a room devoted to painting and sculpture from the 1940s and 1950s, showing how new forms of abstraction and expressive figuration emerged in post-war Europe and America. The surrounding displays suggest affinities between the radical innovations of this era and the work of earlier artists, but also show the legacy of those ideas among contemporary practitioners who have continued to develop the language of art in new and unexpected ways.

Indeed, I saw some of my favorite art and artists, including some presented in completely new ways.  As I rounded the corner to the room pictured above, I was in awe.  Four great canvases were displayed in this room - one on each wall.  The vivid red strokes had such motion.  Yet the red on white canvas also suggested some austerity, as well as intensity.  The paintings were described as representing - at once- violence and ecstasy.  Indeed they were passionately violent, and violently passionate.  They fill the canvas end-to-end-to-center with a certain balance, and the size of the loops, while not uniform, are certainly consistent like sound waves or shock waves.  These are Cy Twombly paintings - the artist I profess to hate, the one I'm convinced has no talent, and has bewitched the art world.  But my reaction was strong and mostly positive (or at least engaged and provoked in a good way) when I saw these, and only a few moments later did I realize, I had be digging on Cy Twombly.  A man, an artist, I clearly need to revisit and reinterpret myself.

The London Eye

Skate Park, Southbank (at Festival Hall)

Gastropub: The Anchor and Hope

In search of a gastropub - a dark, woody pub with good pints, and strict attention to menu -  I first inquired at the front desk of this stodgy member's club where I'm staying.   I said I wanted a good gastropub - not too fancy, but with very good food.  To make my point,  I said I sought a pub where I could wear jeans and motorcycle boots.  He recommended here - Um...not really my style.  The people at the Landsdowne Club just don't get me.

Off I went to the London Eye before dinner, and taking a wrong turn out of the Waterloo Underground, I found myself on The Cut  - a very funky street, with a funky vibe, funky people, alt theater, and some good restaurants, both dive-y and not.   It was 6-ish, and The Anchor and Hope caught my eye because of the crowd getting drinks - lots of jeans, black, boots, and some graying hair.  I knew this is where I would eat tonight.  And so I did - around 9:30 - and I was not disappointed.

Tonight's meal:

- Beetroot, horseradish and watercress - A fantastic combination of  nippy and creamy horseradish, gently bittersweet watercress greens; and sweet, cool, tender beets
- Beef Provencal with potato cake cooked in duckfat - A rather heavy dish (at that late hour, the busy microkitchen had run out of my first two choices) - but the beef was ultra tender, if not a little dark browny-beefy, and the potato cake ought to be first crowned by Le Cordin Bleu and then made illegal by the National Health Service
- Bombadier Ale (Bedford) - A bit sweet, but with a nice weight

La Nouvelle Observatrice jaunts to London

So here I am on a brief work trip to London, and partly because of the work nature of the trip, and partly because my thoughts haven't settled, I have no coherent and collective observations to make.  But here are a few random ones:

- There is a new 'coalition government" (the first since the 1940's) - Conservative and Liberal Democrats.  Strange bedfellows, but seems like what was needed to form a collective majority rule after a fractured, divided election.  Cameron and Clegg are apparently getting on like old chums, calling each other by first name, sharing jokes, and finishing each other's sentences.  I find it interesting (not good or bad per se) that 10 Downing Street changes hands in an immediate transition of power.   Maybe this new coalition will be the new meaning of "neo-con."  We'll see.

- I arrived in London early morning, and went immediately to the private members' club where I am staying.  Desperate for a coffee to begin my day (before the shower and the meetings), I joined my colleague M for a late breakfast (930am), and was promptly turned away for wearing jeans.   Well, I understand and  respect the rules; I appreciate formality and a nod to appropriate attire, and am scandalized myself these days by "grown-up"kids wearing flip-flops for nearly every occasion....but it did seem like a bit much. Not to split hairs, but my jeans were dark wash and boot cut, I had on black boots with heals, and a light linen blazer.  It wasn't the dinner  hour (with jacket and tie) for goodness sake.  And it was well past the prime breakfast hour (7:30-9:00), with perhaps 1-2 other tables finishing up, and the waitstaff was even breaking down the dining room settings between meals.  Welcome to Olde London.  Give me a stodgy break.  It's 2010...this is for dinosaurs!

- Following that experience, I had a fantastic meeting with Comic Relief.  Their offices were the opposite of stodgy - red  and modern with a very open flow.  Their philanthropy principles are rock solid, and I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation  - RG, director there, was pretty smashing.  At the end of the meeting, we ended warmly, and he said I was very "lively" which was clearly a compliment (and one that was well-recived and mutually felt).  But I do know that I have never ended a meeting with that sort of  immediate positive feedback, and "lively" no less.  I'll take it, and stash it away for future demoralized swings.

- I do not know London well at all.  For all my travel, including 5-8 trips to  London (but of 2 days at a time at most), I really can't connect the city, nor do I feel particularly "at home" and familiar, as I do in so many other places (even places I've never been, like landing in Rwanda or Guatemala for the first time).  Still, I enjoy the tube, and the taxis, and the international tone and energy of the city.  Would like to feel more grounded here.  There was a bit of a fantasy talk about me spending about a month here this summer, with Dear Daughter, to support our Trust work.  It was pie-in-the-sky - but I would be interested in making it happen....perhaps...perchance...

I [HEART] good prose

"Strong character, intense body, with an exquisite lingering aftertaste" was how the coffee was described...
and, not surprisingly, the one I chose.

In the middle of the night...

Can't sleep, so I'm surfing instead.  Here's where I wandered in the wee hours...

• Top 10 places to go skinny dipping - This article was linked from the esteemed BBC, clicked through when I went to check out election results (maybe people will need an escape)... I've skinny dipped in California, the Adirondacks, and Guinea-Bissau - none made the list
• PowerPoint Isn't Why Your Presentation Stinks. You Are Why Your Presentation Stinks. - In preparation for London meetings next week.  Slate is always good for a curious, and bemused, mind
• Le Boudin Blanc, London - In preparation for London dining next week (Trustee dinner = swank!)
• 36 Hours in London - If, perchance, I have even 1 hour to hang out in London next week.
• Flight of the Conchords - "Business Time" - Couldn't remember the name of this, found it!  Still makes me chuckle.
• White House Farmer's Market - Yeah! 'tis the season.  Market near work opened today, I missed it, but saw rhubarb on the metro which reminded me to check the hours/day for good vegging.

Lost in translation

A sampling of Chinglish - Hysterical!  These are very accurate representations of the many ways English gets utterly butchered in Chinese translation - to very humorous ends.

I had such a lovely vacation trip to China with Dear Daughter in February 2009.  Lovely, not in the ways that my solo trip to Paris this year was lovely...but simply lovely all the same.

there are so many tictoc

Two good friends seem to be posting ee cummings poetry today on their social networking/self-expression sites of choice. There is a bomb scare outside my office window - the street is blocked off at the corner. So I think I'll turn to some poetry, too. Why not, no?

there are so many tictoc

there are so many tictoc
clocks everywhere telling people
what toctic time it is for
tictic instance five toc minutes toc
past six tic

Spring is not regulated and does
not get out of order nor do
its hands a little jerking move
over numbers slowly

we do not
wind it up it has no weights
springs wheels inside of
its slender self no indeed dear
nothing of the kind.

(So,when kiss Spring comes
we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss
lips because tic clocks toc don't make
a toctic difference
to kisskiss you and to
kiss me)

ee cummings

Leslie Buck, 1922-2010

Leslie Buck, Designer of Iconic Coffee Cup, Dies at 87

One of the wonderful quirks of a NY cup of takeout coffee! 

Also available for purchase in a ceramic version at MoMA.

From my sub-conscious

A blended work anxiety/sex dream...go figure!

So, I'm making out with X (who shall remain nameless) - can't keep our hands off each other, clothes pulled every which way, unfastening..."Damn...I have to work," I said. "I'm here in NYC for our 15th Anniversary Gala event....I have to get ready."  So, reluctantly, I pull away, buttoning/unbuttoning. I hit my hotel room for a shower where I am met by about 12 co-workers also getting ready for the event, hanging out, chatting, and taking pictures. I'm naked (and so caught! - not only nude, but clearly disheveled, and clearly irresponsible because I'm supposed to be working!), but I get my "boss-lady" attitude on. "We're late.  We have got to get moving.  The event is in a hour!"  I go to hit the shower panicked about the event, and a junior colleague snaps a picture of my boobs.

Dreams are whack!

Sting's house

So, Sting just sold his 6,600-square foot Central Park West apartment in New York for $19m.  Here's a tour of the listing, just in case you never got there for dinner.  Check out the art.  The guitars under the grand piano.  The wall-to-wall book cases with actual books. The gorgeous woven carpets.  The beautiful curved stairway.  I'm not so into the bordello red bedroom.

Haiku

Wonderful weekend;
Then, a downpour to sleep by.
It's Monday now.  Sigh.

The Players Lounge, Anacostia

(c) 2010 Vegitect

I really like this photo.  I like the light and the lines, and the way each are reflected on both the wall and the floor.  I like the grid and the grit - I'm somewhat partial to a bit of grit.  I like the venue and the location of that venue -  and all that it represents.  The Player's Lounge, pictured here, is a seedy lounge/bar/restaurant located within DC's down-and-out Ward 8.  The Anacostia neighborhood in DC has old, historic, now dilapidated, houses, and once had a heyday of African-American music, culture and urban history.  But like many things in DC, it was ravaged by drugs, crime, and violence - nearly a lost generation.  To boot, DC's former and infamous mayor and current City Councilmember (?!?), Marion Barry - also ravaged by crack and crime - used to hang here.  There is a lot going on in this picture - artistically and contextually - both visible and invisible.  I also like the photog, Vegitect, whom I credit here.