Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Google Map adds option for biking directions
I just skimmed this article about Google maps adding bicycle directions. This is a fabulous idea and concept, and I hope it can be implemented effectively. I checked Chattanooga, and all I could see within the two-mile radius of my house was the Riverwalk—a bike-only path. It's a start!
Philly Adventure
I donned my green shirt and headed out the door this morning, ready to take on a productive Tuesday.
"Babe, we're the only ones with a trashcan out on the street."
J's comment finally broke my serious a.m. affectation. I laughed, realizing that I'm off a day and have a "vacation hangover." I feel like I'm a day behind. Otherwise it seems easy to slip back into the routine of the 9-5 as I uncover new rhythms and patterns that boost my effectiveness in front of the glowing box.
Philly was amazing. The weather, and J's sudden cold from hell, kept it from being truly awesome, but we hiked around in the blustery rain and I was in awe of the row houses and history there. It didn't have a pretentious feel; more familiar and old than anything, I guess, but maybe all cities that size have that comfortable feel. Tightly packed and brimming with so many cultures and backgrounds that it's easy to find someone from a totally different place and mindset from yourself.
We spent a good chunk of time at the art museum one day, and then Mutter the next, gazing at double-headed fetuses and the brain matter of presidents past. The rain dumped on us as we slowly drove through the Laurel Cemetery after the Mutter, transitioning from one dead museum to the next; this one covered in giant monuments and their residents' lasting attempts to outdo the next body.
The highlights of the trip were more simple; Northern foods that are more difficult to find in my Scenic City. Prosciutto and salami, fresh (really fresh) mozz and big garlicky olives; dark, smooth coffee from La Colombe, where the barista knew our host as a regular; fresh Pennsylvania brews that were well balanced, as well as a few German beers in half-liter glasses that put us behind a few hours. Of course I tried the traditional Philly cheesesteak, "wit" and "Provolone," and we sampled from both Gino's and Pat's in South Philly. J dared to get the cheezwiz.
So despite the rain, the city felt homey. Our host, especially, was endearing, honest and fun. Discussions of writing and reflections on work and life infiltrated rainy breakfasts waiting for "sleeping beauty" to face the day. I yearn to keep adventuring and exploring. The taste of travel leaves a lingering, sweet flavor in my mouth.
"Babe, we're the only ones with a trashcan out on the street."
J's comment finally broke my serious a.m. affectation. I laughed, realizing that I'm off a day and have a "vacation hangover." I feel like I'm a day behind. Otherwise it seems easy to slip back into the routine of the 9-5 as I uncover new rhythms and patterns that boost my effectiveness in front of the glowing box.
Philly was amazing. The weather, and J's sudden cold from hell, kept it from being truly awesome, but we hiked around in the blustery rain and I was in awe of the row houses and history there. It didn't have a pretentious feel; more familiar and old than anything, I guess, but maybe all cities that size have that comfortable feel. Tightly packed and brimming with so many cultures and backgrounds that it's easy to find someone from a totally different place and mindset from yourself.
We spent a good chunk of time at the art museum one day, and then Mutter the next, gazing at double-headed fetuses and the brain matter of presidents past. The rain dumped on us as we slowly drove through the Laurel Cemetery after the Mutter, transitioning from one dead museum to the next; this one covered in giant monuments and their residents' lasting attempts to outdo the next body.
The highlights of the trip were more simple; Northern foods that are more difficult to find in my Scenic City. Prosciutto and salami, fresh (really fresh) mozz and big garlicky olives; dark, smooth coffee from La Colombe, where the barista knew our host as a regular; fresh Pennsylvania brews that were well balanced, as well as a few German beers in half-liter glasses that put us behind a few hours. Of course I tried the traditional Philly cheesesteak, "wit" and "Provolone," and we sampled from both Gino's and Pat's in South Philly. J dared to get the cheezwiz.
So despite the rain, the city felt homey. Our host, especially, was endearing, honest and fun. Discussions of writing and reflections on work and life infiltrated rainy breakfasts waiting for "sleeping beauty" to face the day. I yearn to keep adventuring and exploring. The taste of travel leaves a lingering, sweet flavor in my mouth.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
A Glimmer of Greener Days
This morning I officially felt the tingle of an upcoming vacation in my spine and my step. With a 70-degree day behind me and the time-change weekend in my future, there couldn't be a better way to celebrate sunshine than by taking three days off work.
Last night I dreamed that I was looking in the mirror and saw what appeared to be little holes in my face. It was really a perfect layer of dead skin that I peeled off my face in one gigantic piece. It reminded me of when I used to peel my skin post-sunburn and reveled in the big "chunks" of dead skin. My dream seems representative of the month-long 180 I've taken, from excitement about a 3-month getaway plan gone bad to a gnarly lawsuit that sent me back to one year ago, to spring, vacation and sunnier days.
It feels good to put the lawsuit behind me. I still have other dreams about the most lasting effects of the situations, but those too will pass and just be a fading memory.
To celebrate the sunshine this weekend, some friends were pickin' on the porch with free-flowing beer and laughs. J and I have been eagerly planning our getaway—but not too eagerly. Plans are still loose, and as he puts it, there are so many "big" touristy things about Philadelphia, and the nooks and crannies may bring the most pleasure. Specifically, not having plans will bring the most pleasure for me and also be the most relaxing.
Philadelphia, here I come! To discover your grimey streets and old buildings.
What I would give to be sitting on 7th in Portland drinking a Roots red ale in warm sunshine, or on a sidewalk patio sipping a foamy soy latte. Sunny spring days incite laziness and long hours outside till my fingers and toes are too chilly and my eyes are weary. A few of those afternoons are definitely in order.
Last night I dreamed that I was looking in the mirror and saw what appeared to be little holes in my face. It was really a perfect layer of dead skin that I peeled off my face in one gigantic piece. It reminded me of when I used to peel my skin post-sunburn and reveled in the big "chunks" of dead skin. My dream seems representative of the month-long 180 I've taken, from excitement about a 3-month getaway plan gone bad to a gnarly lawsuit that sent me back to one year ago, to spring, vacation and sunnier days.
It feels good to put the lawsuit behind me. I still have other dreams about the most lasting effects of the situations, but those too will pass and just be a fading memory.
To celebrate the sunshine this weekend, some friends were pickin' on the porch with free-flowing beer and laughs. J and I have been eagerly planning our getaway—but not too eagerly. Plans are still loose, and as he puts it, there are so many "big" touristy things about Philadelphia, and the nooks and crannies may bring the most pleasure. Specifically, not having plans will bring the most pleasure for me and also be the most relaxing.
Philadelphia, here I come! To discover your grimey streets and old buildings.
What I would give to be sitting on 7th in Portland drinking a Roots red ale in warm sunshine, or on a sidewalk patio sipping a foamy soy latte. Sunny spring days incite laziness and long hours outside till my fingers and toes are too chilly and my eyes are weary. A few of those afternoons are definitely in order.
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