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Celebration in the Oaks in New Orleans

January 29, 2016 Comments Off read Attractions, Louisiana, South, Travel, USA

December in New Orleans is delightful. Sunny and warm during the day, the evenings are made even more delightful with twinkling lights strung everywhere, music wafting down the streets, and the utter decadence of the Reveillon dinners served throughout the city. Although I was in the city to celebrate a friend’s birthday (and her birthday has been overshadowed her entire life by the, uh, more well-known birthday a few weeks later), I felt it wouldn’t be untoward of me to enjoy some New Orleans specific holiday events prior to her arrival, namely, Christmas in the Oaks.

Christmas in the Oaks is an annual event in New Orleans’ enormous City Park, an easy streetcar ride away from the French Quarter/Central Business District. Thousands of lights are strung on their oak trees over a twenty-five acre area, many with a unique New Orleans twist–the Saints’ “Who Dat?” tree, a Mr Bingle* parade float, and an animated light telling of The Cajun Night Before Christmas.

For an additional five bucks, you can take a ride on a tiny train through other light displays. I (of course) don’t advocate doing anything that would get you arrested, but some people I ran into on the street strongly suggested that smoking a little Colorado air freshener on the train is a life-altering experience. The ride starts off slow but takes you through light displays that are otherwise inaccessible to visitors. I was disappointed that I couldn’t go back and revisit some of the areas that the train passed through–their dinosaur display was really impressive (complete with an erupting volcano and running raptors) as were their giant pirate ship battles and their flying santa with a team of gator reindeer, and I definitely would have liked to see them all closer and in better detail as the train goes by pretty fast. Also, the ride gets a bit chilly, so if you go, learn from my mistakes and maybe bundle up in more than a thin hoodie.

I tried cramming my head into this gator’s mouth for yet another immature photo op, but sadly couldn’t make it work.

I also couldn’t get up on Santa’s lap. Curse this lack of upper body strength! I was going to ask for a pony.

*As further evidence that I can’t read, when I first saw the map of the park that included a Mr. Bingle zone, I said “Mr. Bungle’s here?!” No and no. Mr. Bingle is a snowman assistant to Santa Claus, a former mascot of the Maison Blanche department store, not the experimental band.

Getting Better With Age

January 27, 2016 4 Comments read Uncategorized

Last April, when I set a goal for myself to run a 5k within a year’s time, I didn’t put a ton of thought into it. I’ve never been good at running, and it would be cool to be better at it. Sure, I was able to walk (and complain through, let us never forget how much I complain) a half marathon, but run it? Hell no. I was always the kid who came in last when the time came to run the dreaded mile in gym class, wheezing my way over the finish line and making Arnold Schwarzenegger weep into his pillow at night over my lack of physical fitness.

I’ve tried and failed before. This time was going to be different. I’d develop one of those easy, self-assured strides, not elicit a single snicker when I go out in public suited head to toe in technical fabric, and should I ever find myself in a Jurassic Park dinosaur escape type situation, I’d be able to do more than shamble a few steps before giving up and bellowing “Jesus, just eat me already, running is worse than death!” After all, I had all of the knowledge of what made me quit in the past, so I’d effectively be able to avoid those pitfalls this time around. First, I reasoned, it would be best to lose a good chunk of weight before I began seriously training, to reduce impact on my joints and avoid injuries. To that end, I’ve lost sixty pounds (and counting). When I’d lost a reasonable amount with still about six months left on the calendar, I started the couch to 5k program, the premise of which is that they can take you from sedentary to fit enough to run for thirty minutes straight in nine weeks. Not outside, where there are both monster hills and soggy weather to contend with, but on a teensy elliptical machine. It’s not the same as actual running, certainly, but close enough for government work, and with the added bonus of less stress on my knees since I’m still preeeettty fat. Good enough to get my heart pounding, my legs working, to sweat buckets. I dutifully did the workouts three times a week, shifting them to avoid holidays that I knew the lazy golem inside of me would use as an excuse to not work out at all. I finished the nine week program in January, and I definitely found it challenging and made progress through those nine weeks, pushing each workout until my legs wobbled when I stopped. My 5k is scheduled for early March, so I felt it was imperative to get out there and run on actual ground, just so if there was any deficit from training on an elliptical instead of outside, I’d have time to train to make it up. So, naturally, it poured out for two weeks straight.

On the only nice day in the immediate forecast, I slapped on my running clothes, took my headphones, and headed to Greenlake Park, a 2.8 mile loop that’s relatively flat. As I drove up, I began to psych myself out a little. Is that how long 2.8 miles is? That lake is huge, I don’t remember it being so large. But I firmly and resolutely told my inner worrier to shut the hell up, that I’d been training and going well beyond 2.8 miles in my practices at home, so this would be no problem. Cake. I began to believe it once I pressed play on my c25k podcast. The familiar cues told me to warm up for five minutes, and when the warmup was done, I was ready to go. I started off great, taking measured, powerful strides. First song down. I’m doing this! I’m doing great!

…Then the second song started, and that’s when my lungs filled up with warm glue, my legs began to burn, and I was forced back into a walk, wheezing audibly. Really?! I’d run, what, half a mile before my body gave out? I felt sick and frustrated. Just how much had I been deluding myself about the progress I’d been making on the elliptical? I blinked back hot tears and choked back my shame barf, not wanting this run to be exactly like high school. Little old ladies ran past me while the podcast continued, congratulating me on running for ten minutes and telling me that I’m doing great. A wave of shame so great rushed over me that I momentarily contemplated drowning myself in the lake, but ultimately decided that even as an abject failure, I had more dignity than to suck a lungful of icy water filled with goose poop in front of a dude sleeping on a bench and a group of fit jogger moms whose strollers cost more than my last car.

At this point, it’s safe to say that there is no way I’ll be ready to run a 5k in five weeks, given my general crapitude and what seems to maybe be some undiagnosed exercise-induced asthma. I don’t even know if there’s a point to showing up if I’m just going to make an ass of myself and get shuffled off the course because I can’t make their pace, and accomplish nothing other than make my wet rattling breaths sound like I’m a member of the undead for days afterward.

Maybe running is one of those things I’m just always going to be naturally terrible at. I guess I’m never going to be one of those easy-breezy people trotting down a trail, sweat free and fabulous. What I can do is glare at them from my hate cave, sweating away on my elliptical. The good news is, should we ever find ourselves in a Jurassic Park dinosaur escape type situation, I’ll go a long way toward filling up those rampaging dino bellies so you can escape. Think of my noble and lazy sacrifice.

This Didn’t Deserve Its Own Post: Oahu Edition

July 1, 2015 Comments Off read Hawaii, Masticating With Mellzah, Pacific, Travel, USA, West

When I take a trip somewhere, if I don’t do a day-by-day recounting, there’s usually a bunch of tidbits left over that I either couldn’t write more than a few sentences about or don’t have any photos for or would drag out the series far beyond what any human could be expected to tolerate. All combined, however, they make for something a little more substantial, so here’s yet another one, this time about Oahu.
* I heard from a friend who used to live on Oahu that the place to get malasadas is Leonard’s bakery. Because I felt that it was foolish to buy only one malasada when there were three flavors I wanted to try, but also being completely unwilling to share, we bought six and were sadly only able to polish off the equivalent of two–no regrets about the number purchased, though. My brain was willing to eat three, it was my stomach that was weak. They were so damn good. Hot, crusted in sugar, and filled with flavored pastry cream. The mango one was my favorite. We put the leftovers in the trunk of the car and tried to eat them later that night and I wholeheartedly do not recommend that. Eat them when you buy them. Immediately, on the bench outside the store. Leftover malasadas are sad malasadas, a gross soggy shell of their former glory.

*While looking at bakeries, I found one much closer to where we were staying on the north shore, Paalaa Kai. They’re known for their snow puffies–puff pastry rectangles filled with vanilla pastry cream and topped with chocolate and mounds of powdered sugar–and those are good (if super messy, you basically leave looking like this spider) but their pineapple turnovers are where it’s at. Flaky, buttery triangles of pastry are stuffed with dense, jammy pineapple. So good. We went back more than once.

*We also visited this awesome gelateria in Hale’iwa more than once. (Why am I fat? It’s a mystery.) Creamy macadamia nut gelato in a warm waffle bowl is possibly one of the greatest food combinations since peanut butter met jelly.

*Jason and I tried to eat a shave ice every single day we were on Oahu, but fell a little short of our goal. Despite all of the food talk, there were days that I actually didn’t eat much or feel like eating, because I was so miserably sick. Shave ice made me feel like a human for a few blessed minutes. Jason’s favorite place? Matsumotos in Haleiwa. Mine? Island Snow in Kailua.

*I spent just about every night sunset-watching, and just about every night I was sunset-blocked by some bastard clouds right at the horizon. One night at Shark’s Cove, I did see a guy filming a music video at sunset, wailing on a ukelele the way Hendrix did on a guitar, the ocean crashing behind him. It was completely epic and automatically made it the best sunset of the trip.

*We popped into the Ho’omaluhia Botanical Garden for a hot second since a hot second was about all they’d give us. They close super early, and are dead serious about locking your ass in if you aren’t out of the park promptly at 4pm. I did see two mongoose, though, so it wasn’t a total loss.

*There were two festivals in Waikiki while I was visiting–Lei Day, and the Waikiki Spam Jam. I fully intended to go to both, but after dealing with traffic and trying to find a parking spot for Lei Day and all of the frustration that entailed, I didn’t much feel like doing it again the next day for the Spam Jam, which was supposed to be much more crowded. Hard pass. I’ll have to try spam some other time, and live with the regret that comes from missing an opportunity to wear a spam can hat. I’m pretty sure I don’t need to try spam ice cream to know it’s a vom, though. I’m sure it didn’t help that I discovered that I don’t much care for Waikiki after spending most of my time on the north shore–it’s too loud, too crowded, too expensive. I can see why the locals are fighting so hard to keep the country country. The best thing about Waikiki is the adorable Japanese tourist buses with the whale tails.

*There were chickens and little peepers all over Oahu, free to roam and do their chicken business. I enjoyed watching these tiny dinosaurs do their airheaded chicken shenanigans–my favorite was one who was tenderly caring for a golf ball.

*King Kamehameha the Great says ~~“hello”~~ “aloha”.

And now, this: