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This morning is the second time in three weeks I forget to press the ON button of my coffee maker before I jump into a shower. When I come out of the shower, feeling fresh from head to toes, the first thing I do was to grab my favorite coffee mug and pour out two teaspoons of condensed milk.
Something is missing here. Where is the groaning and moaning sounds my coffee maker likes very much to make at the end of the brewing?
Anybody out there has fresh brewed Mandailing Sumatra coffee?
Posted at 07:00 AM in Self | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)
One of a few things I've been learning for the past of couple of years and is still struggling with it, is to let go my sense of time.
As long as I remember my life has always been revolved around time. I hate being late. On any planned events, meetings, outings, appointments and gatherings or even dating, I have always the first one to show up.
Once, someone said to me I should show up at least 10 minutes late on a date.
"Why? Is it one of those dating rules?"
"You don't want to give an impression that you are too eager."
"Being on time on a date is considered too eager?"
"Well......, blah, blah, blah.........."
"Aaahhhh....."
But I showed up on time anyway because I didn't think showing up late deliberately was a good foundation in anything I wanted to do.
So, despite the scattered rains, cloudy weekend afternoons or wet weekend mornings this summer, I have captured a huge slice of joy by drinking all my quiet time down to the bottom of Lake Content.
Last Sunday, D and I spent our afternoon at Castle Island. We stretched out on a thick but soft cotton blanket, our heads almost touched the wall of Fort Independent. We tried to identify the clouds that moved and turned into the shape of animals, trees and flowers. And when we couldn't figure them out, we made up the names.
The quiet afternoon stirred momentarily when the small plane flew and poured out the smoke. We watched the smokes curled up, down, left and right and finally formed a sentence which I completely forgot what it was. I was too lazy to move, I only captured : The Sox.
I was telling D about a huge tanker passed by Castle Island one morning a few months ago. I was turning from a loop from the back of the island when the sight of humongous tanker loomed right in front of me. I stopped and watched the water beast in awe.
To emphasize my point to D how huge the tanker was, I sat up facing him with my back toward the water. I told him how weird I felt to stand and watched the tanker that huge less than 300 meters away from a running path. I thought if I stretched out my arm I could touch it. A sense of wonder when I open those pop up colorful pictures children books.
"Like the size of the ship was out of proportion?"
"Yes, yes, that was exactly how I felt."
"I know how you felt."
"You do?"
He touched my arm and said, "Turn around."
Perhaps 15 minutes after the tanker sailed past us, a cruise ship followed behind.
Talking about in awe.
The sun was low when we walked back to D's car. I hadn't looked at my watch at all. Perhaps I've learned a little bit to let go my sense of time.
Posted at 05:13 AM in Life In The City | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
I have a few things I've been successfully avoiding of doing them for the past few years. One of them is clothes shopping with women friends. I have a tendency to tell exactly what I see. Being a woman I hate to admit it but some of us prefer to hear, "Yes, I love it." from our best friend.
But damn!!! Don't ask me if I like it or not. I'm not the one is going to wear that expensive Anne Klein shirt two sizes smaller than your actual size. And when I asked you, "how about size 12?" (because you told me before it was your size), don't ask me with annoying expression, "What's wrong with size 10?" And when I tried to get busy with something else so I didn't have to answer your question, don't repeat the question again because you knew what I was going to say.
But you did it anyway. You asked me again, with underline this time. "What's wrong with size 10?"
"Well.....You always say you hate to see your spare parts popped out when you wear t-shirts."
And right there, I stood half hidden behind those beautiful-but-can't afford-clothes I saw with a clarity the meaning of, " If the look could kill" or something like that you gave me.
So you see, if you were ever adviced, "Never ask Ana to go clothes shopping with you," you should've listened to them. I'm sorry for being insensitive.
Posted at 10:20 PM in Self | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)
First I thought it was odd, then it turned into amusing experience to be outdoor in summer especially in August, running, walking, sitting and enjoying the scenery or exploring new places with an extra layer of clothes.
We've been getting plenty of rain since July and I thought by August the rain would go away. I was wrong it's not only we still get the rain, the temp has dropped to mid 60 on some mornings and evenings. Since two weeks ago on some evenings I was forced to wear a windbreaker when I went out running on the beach.
I was bitching by myself as I zipping up my blue windbreaker on the way out to run. The zip stuck half way and I tried to yank it upward. My hand slipped and hit my nose. Shit. I became angrier and then it hit me. What am I getting angry at? I'm on my way to do something I love for heaven sake. I started to laugh at my stupidity.
I rounded up 20 miles during the weekdays and 7 miles on Sunday morning which pleased me enormously.
I think I'm getting better at my acupressure skill too. Every day in a shower, with two finger tips I press an inner part of each knee for at least ten minutes and another point found on the outer side of the ankle joints for aching legs, ankle areas and lower back.
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Last Saturday it was sunny and gorgeous in the afternoon. I met with D outside Tsongas Arenas after 180 minutes feasting my eyes on amazing quilts. We walked around Downtown Lowell and I told D the first thing that crossed my mind earlier when I was on a circular bus from train station to the arena was, how nice if Downtown Lowell was only a few miles from Boston. The wide sidewalks, along the canal and less cars on the streets on the weekend. I could run forever here, I told D.
After an hour exploring Downtown Lowell we had lunch at Cobblestones Restaurant and Grill on Dutton Street.
After lunch we drove to Nashoba Valley Winery.
The grape were still crawling. The apples were still juvenile, but we had a lovely time.
Posted at 08:27 PM in Run Baby Run | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
Do we offer personal information to a stranger when we are excited or nervous? I know I am a bit more chatter than usual when I am excited and tend to shut down all communication departments when I am nervous.
Saturday morning I was standing in a queue to get a commuter train ticket to Lowell Quilt Festival. It was 9:48 a.m, 5 people stood ahead of me, 2 ticket windows out of three were opened, and departure time was 10:00 am. Well, I have plenty of time, I assured myself as my eyes roaming around looking for Dunkin Donut.
Suddenly a tall woman in front of me swayed around as she was falling backward and tossed her hair. The way she tossed her hair was like in those shampoo commercial on television when the models swirl their hair in slomo. Caught by surprise by her model-like-hair-tossing moment, I didn't have time to step back. The cigarette smelled hair smacked right on my face. Hate is a strong word, but I hate it when someone else's hair hit my face.
"Whoa lady, be careful." Automatically I brushed my right cheek a few times as trying to get rid of cigarettes ashes from it.
"Ooohhh...excuse me," paused, "I forgot my ring."
"Sorry?"
She spun around facing me full face, "I forgot my wedding ring."
She wore a three inches open toes black pump that made her even taller than her actual height. I was practically staring right at her enormous boobs that almost popped out from her low cut neck line white t-shirt before my eyes traveled up to her face.
"The line is moving." I told her.
"What?"
"It's your turn." I nodded my head to ticket window's direction.
Shoot, I don't even get my first cup of coffee and I'm having a conversation with someone else's boobs.
I didn't hear a response from a ticket lady but I heard every single word the tall woman said to the ticket lady.
I want a round trip ticket to Montserrat but I want to get off at Lynn. Lynn is not the place I want to go but I have to be there this morning because I have an interview. I don't really want this job, you know what I mean? I'm not sure when I am coming back to Boston. Tomorrow or on Monday. An open ticket? Great.
Wow... too much information, when she said. "I'm single again. This is new to me."
I made it to the train in time. Sitting in my seat and watched the platform getting smaller and smaller I wondered if I ever offered unnecessarily personal information to a stranger when I was nervous?
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The quilt festival was better than I thought. Hundreds of beautiful and lovely quilts were displayed.
Two contemporary quilts from a professional quilter that I have always admired were on display too.
Two and a half hours after observing, admiring and picture snapping I went to a second level to look check out the vendors. I made a deal with myself before I left my place this morning that I wouldn't go crazy over the fabrics. I had to pat my back. I didn't go crazy. It was a huge temptation though.
Posted at 09:48 PM in Life In The City | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBack (0)
Some lovely things I saw earlier the other day when I stopped at CMart, Asian Supermarket on Lincoln Street about ten minutes walk from South Station.
Outside the building, a mixture of plants grow on a small patch. One of them was Black Eye Susan that caught my eyes because the front layer, all the petals flopped downward while on the back each petal of the flowers pointed slightly upward. Perhaps it was nothing new to garderners, but I was curious.
I entered the supermarket and walked up to frozen section to get some daun pandan, pandandus , when I saw a glistening and beautiful gourds in a bin. As usual, my monkey mind started to swing from one branch to another. After a few minutes debating with my monkey mind, I put the gourd back in the bin.
Posted at 10:44 PM in Self | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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