Beantown - Day 3

Day 3: To celebrate Pioneer Day, we decided to start it out the way they would have--eating donuts. Okay, may not quite pioneerish, but a great way to start the day. But we did walk and walk and walk.

Then we took the train to Fenway Park to take the tour. We wanted to go to a game, but they were playing the Yankees while we were there, and, unless we wanted to spend a small fortune, we weren't going to get tickets. On the train out there, we weren't exactly sure where to get off, or which way to go. But I spotted a mom and a couple of boys decked out in Sox gear. I knew that if we just followed them, we'd get there. I was right. They led us right to the ticket office. Here's a shot of the street outside by the office.

Our tour guide was a college-age girl named Lindsay, who sure loves the Red Sox. She knew a lot about them and the park. Plus, she was funny, and that always makes for a better tour. Because I took quite a few pictures in the park, I'll just list out here what all of them are. 1) Standing with the Green Monster over my left shoulder 2) Jenn and I sitting in the press box 3) Our view from the press box 4) Kristin and I sitting on the Green Monster 5) Me sitting on the Green Monster (although it could just be me getting a passport picture taken) 6) Our view from the Green Monster.





While we were sitting on the Green Monster, it started to rain, hard. We dashed to the covered seats as quickly as we could, so Lindsay could finish her thing. There were quite a few broken-hearted boys when they found out we weren't going on the field. And to be honest, almost all I could think about while I was there was of "Fever Pitch."

We went to a souvenir shop to look around and wait out the rain, but again, no luck. So we braved out way to the T station in the downpour. On our way there, a car drove by and absolutely drenched us. The best part was we were all laughing about it. And we discovered that Kristin's shoes foamed. I think she must have stepped in the rabies virus on the sidewalk. So weird, but funny, too.
I think Jenn didn't want Kristin to have all the attention, so she fell down the stairs to the T station as we were going down. Show-off.

After Fenway (which was more fun than I thought it would be), we took off for the Boston Public Library, the first in the country. Very cool building. We used the facilities while we were there, and on our way back to the main building we came across this picture opportunity. So random and awesome.
We didn't know it until we got there, but there was an exhibit on publications of Shakespeare's works, so of course we had to see it. There were books there from the 1500s. Dang cool.

The older part of the building was beautiful. Here the lions by the staircases. And below that is the entrance.

I have no more photographic evidence that we spent the rest of the day in Boston, but we did. Lunch was at Legal Seafood (the one place everyone told us to eat at). They knew what they were talking about. The crab cakes were divine. The best part of the meal, though, was Kristin pointing out that it was hard to feel sophisticated (the decor was nice) while you were sitting there in wet underwear. We all agreed.

The post-lunch activity for the day was the Museum of Fine Art. I was definitely looking forward to this. And I was not disappointed. I got to see mummies (they have more there than anywhere else, excluding Cairo), looks of Greek urns that made me think of Keats, and lots of impressionists' painting. They have the most Monets outside of France. My favorite were all the paintings by Degas. Amazing. They also had, on loan, his sculpture "The Tiny Dancer." So, so cool to see it in real life. There were also quite a few paintings by Rembrandt as well. I looooved it.

And, big surprise, it was raining when we left. It was a bit of a soggy day.

For dinner, we met up with Ellen's cousin and his wife, who live in Boston. Kristin's friend had recommended an Italian place in the north end, so we went there. Fabulous recommendation. Jenn and I split a meal of chicken and veal in a lovely lemon sauce. So yummy.

To be continued . . .

Beantown - Day 2

Day 2: The started out quite well because Jenn and I slept in. It was deliciously wonderful after having spent the previous night trying to sleep sitting up. We had chosen this day to visit Cambridge, where Harvard University is located.

Our first stop was the Museum of Natural History. In a word--Awesome! There were so many things to see. Some of my favorites were the gemstones (there was an aquamarine carving the size of Zippo lighter of two polar bears swimming in the ocean-incredible!), cool murals from South America and stuffed animals, along with animal bones.

I didn't like the freaky stuffed monkeys (but then I don't like monkeys stuffed or alive) and the bizarro hair anklets from the South Pacific. Eew. And I don't love this picture because it looks like I have some sort of weird sideburn, but I wanted to remember the museum.
When we were finished at the museum, we just started walking across campus to see what we could see. We passed a table with a sign that said "Free Candy." Of course I was interested, so I stopped to check it out. It was for a study some students were doing. They would give you candy if you took part in a psychology study. There was a short wait, so I waited patiently to the side. Then one of the girls grabbed me and asked if I would be interested in participating in a different study. I agreed, and she took me into a nearby building to work with a girl with a laptop. The study itself was pretty boring (ask me for details the next time you see me if you're really curious), but the upside was that I made $2!! Not bad, eh? Who's the Harvard smarty-pants now?
After my successful money-making experience, we decided to have lunch, and then check out The Coop, which is supposed to be a famous Harvard bookstore. I thought it looked like a Barnes & Noble with maroon signage instead of green.

And then the rains came. And I mean they came hard. We ducked into a Body Shop to try to wait it out, but there was not stopping in sight. So, we trudged on. Our next stop was to be the Longfellow House, once owned by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. You know, the poet. You know, "Listen my children and you shall hear of the midnight ride of Paul Revere." Beautiful house, yes? It was very pretty on the inside as well.
For a small fee we got to take a guided tour, where we learned about Henry, his family and how to stay on the carpeted path. We also learned that George Washington lived in the house for about a year, and that was part of Henry's desire to live there. Also, we learned that Henry had over 10,000 books. Wow.

This is the room where Henry wrote. He had different statues and busts of authors around the room to help inspire him. The small one on the right is Goethe. That's where Henry would stand as he edited his work.
Another cool thing about the tour was that the guide would quote some of Longfellow's poetry as she showed us around. Other people may not think that's cool, but I sure did. With the tour wrapped up, we headed back over to Harvard campus to try to find the bookstore. On our way, we found the statue of John Harvard.
Apparently I was in a hurry to take this picture, and that's why it's so blurry(?). But here's a shot of the campus.
We found the library, but couldn't go inside because we didn't have Harvard IDs. Bummer. So, we kept looking for the bookstore. We were sent to the place pictured below.
Very quaint, has Harvard in its name, but not the school's official bookstore. We were totally mystified. Nobody could point us in the right direction. Do Harvard students not have to buy textbooks or college hoodies? Odd.

We took the train back to downtown and decided to have dinner in Chinatown. Now, I don't know if we went down the wrong streets or what, but I can't say that I was impressed with Chinatown. Or maybe it's because I was comparing it to the one in San Francisco. We chose a random restaurant and had average Chinese food.

A nice walk seemed appealing after dinner, especially since the rain had stopped. We went over to the Public Garden, which is next to Boston Commons, the country's first public park. Here's one of my favorite shots from the whole trip. Jenn is doing her best to be the fountain statue.
Also located in the Public Gardens are the famed Swan Boats (more on those later) and statues commemorating the ducks from "Make Way for Ducklings," a very cute children's book, one that I had read to me as a child. I found out later that this is the only statue commemorating a duck in the whole country. Can you believe that? To celebrate finding the ducks, Jenn and I did our best waddles alongside them. Possibly more on that later.
We walked across the street to Boston Commons after our time in the Public Garden. We saw a statue on top of a hill and figured it must be important, so we climbed up to see what it was. You can see how enthralled the gals were by it.
See how fascinating it is? I couldn't for the life of me tell you what it's for now. I think it had something to do with the Civil War.
We were feeling a bit feisty and celebratory still, so Jenn did some interpretive dance, which inspired me to bust out some New Kids moves, seeing that we were in their hometown.
On our way back to the hotel through the park, we came across the Frog Pond, which is not a natural pond, but a concrete-lined one that kids can splash around in. Here I am trying my best to be pensive with one of the pensive frog statues.
All in all, a very lovely day, even with the rain.

To be continued . . .

Beantown - Day 1

Last week, I took off for Boston with three friends. I had never visited the city before and was excited to see what we would discover. I will be sharing my travelogue in four installments, one for each day we were there. If you find travelogues boring and pointless, then you're going to be bored if you keep reading. I make no apologies.

Day 1: We flew out Monday night from SLC to Phoenix and from Phoenix to Boston. When booking our flights, we thought it would be a good idea to fly overnight so that we would have more time in Boston. We were right on one part. We did have more time in the city, but the all-night flying was not so fun. I think I got two hours of sleep.

We arrived non-bright-eyed or bushy-tailed around 6:30. Our first adventure was to find the T station (the T is the subway system). Little did we know that the T is a BUS at the airport. Yeah, so we wandered all over until we got clued in. Super fun.

Once we found the T, we went straight to our hotel to drop off our luggage and freshen up a bit. Then we headed straight out to get breakfast and find the Freedom Trail. Breakfast was at a Dunkin' Donuts, which was sort of hard to find since there are only 5 on every city block. Here I am enjoying my first (of many) Boston Creme donuts. Yuuuuum.
Then we struck out for the freedom trail. This is a 2.5 mile marked path that takes you through the city past many historical sites. It begins in Boston Commons, a park. At the starting point, they have some random statues. If I didn't know better, I'd think this one was a depiction of Joseph Smith during the first vision. Am I right?
There are tons of cool things to see along the Freedom Trail. I won't bore you with all of them. Here are just a few of my favorites. The state building has a gold-covered dome (just like Georgia's state capitol building). I think it's a gorgeous building.
Here's a shot of the trail along with one of the markers to help you remember what it is you're following. The trail really is just red bricks, two-wide set in the regular sidewalk. Pretty easy to follow.
One of the first stops was a cemetary. A few Revolutionaries are buried here, including Paul Revere, Ben Franklin's parents, victims of the Boston Massacre, John Hancock and some other people I can't remember right now. It was cool seeing headstones for people who were born and died in the 1600s.
Here's a statue of Ben Franklin. He seems to be more connected to Philadelphia than Boston, but there was still quite a bit about him.

You know you're in Boston when you see random people walking around in Colonial dress. He's the one on the left in the breeches.
Towards the end of the trail, you come to the USS Constitution, which is the oldest commissioned warship still afloat (side note--I've been on the oldest warship still commissioned, but not afloat, the HMS Victory, which is kept in Portsmith, England. Also very cool). This was one of my favorite things that we saw. The navy has sailors who take groups on tours, so you get to see lots of the ship and learn what life was like for those who worked on it. The three things I remember are 1) the sailors only got 4 hours to sleep (oye vei!) 2) the cannons weigh as much as a Ford Explorer and 3) the ship has live oak wood in it from Georgia. It gets to sail out once a year, usually on July 4.
We made it all the way to Bunker Hill, which is the end of the Freedom Trail. We arrived very tired and worn-out. After a sort of (non-intentional) meandering walk with a couple from Arizona, we found the T station and went back to the hotel. There was a great need for a nap. Refreshed and hungry, we walked over to Quincy Market and had dinner at Ned Divine's, one of the restaurants there. This is where I had the BEST macaroni and cheese I have ever eaten in my life. Oh, the cheesy goodness. I remember it still.

Afterwards we walked over to the waterfront to enjoy the water and wonderfully pleasant summer evening. Knowing we would need a huge night's sleep to make up for the previous night and be prepared for Day 2's adventures, we went back to the hotel.

To be continued . . .

This is just to say . . .

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox.

No, not really, but bonus points to whomever can give me the reference.

Actually, this is to apologize for not posting for a while. I was out of town, and then work has been crazy since I returned.

But please stay tuned for the Boston update, a thought on nieces, and other randomness.

Big kiss.

A brief rant

If you will excuse me, I feel the need to rant. Just a bit.

I have been thinking about a conversation I had recently with a colleague (a married male), who said something to the effect of, "You know, Marie, I just don't understand. You're cool and cute and seem pretty with it. You are an amazing woman. How are you not dating?" My response, after a laugh, was, "Thanks. But that shows the difference between the two of us. I know lots of amazing, single women."

This is a topic I've thought about a lot (having done the single scene for quite a few years), but I suppose my frustration level has been higher than normal lately. I do not think that men are horrible and detestable and should be thrown into fiery pits. I know way too many good men to say that. I'm just frustrated that the numbers seem so out of balance.

Why are there always so many great gals and not so many great fellows? I observe my friends and see the good they are putting out into the world, and it makes my heart ache that they don't have all the things they hope for, like a husband and kids. Are they completely miserable without those things? No, of course not. But why, why is it so difficult for them to find a man just as amazing as they are, so that they can have those things if they choose?

I grew up in a house where I was told time and again that life isn't fair. I have experienced that enough to know it's true, but it still makes me sad for my wonderful, intelligent, giving, funny, loving, beautiful friends. They deserve so much more.

Okay. Done.

The beautiful meeting of two worlds

I am a BIG fan of BBC's Robin Hood. Huge. I love it.

(Side-note: I was introduced to it by a wonderful friend who has superb taste in entertainment. She has opened my eyes to many fabuous things. I feel like I should send her a thank you card after I watch each episode.)

Now, I don't love the show because it's so historically accurate with incredible writing. I love the show for what it is -- slightly cheesy with some iffy writing (including bad one-liners) and funny effects with complete disregard for historical accuracy. It does have some good fights, adventures, and some dang good-looking British men.

I was able to see the first season earlier this year by checking out the DVDs at the library (love the library!). Then after much debate and budget planning, I upped my cable package so that I could have BBC America in order to watch season two, which started the end of April. Money well spent in my opinion.

Well, we Yanks sort of have the short end of the stick because the shows don't get aired here until after they've been show in England. Meaning that I won't be able to see season three (filming now in Hungary) until next year. Or maybe later because it's possible that season three won't air in England until January 2009! Insert super sad face.

Fortunately, I was able to find one bit one good news in this. They've already started filming, and one of the new characters introduced in season three is Prince John. Up to now we've heard a great deal about him, but we haven't see him. Guess who the producers have cast as Prince John?

Toby "I couldn't be any hotter as brooding Mr. Rochester even if my pants and hair were on fire and I lived in the jungle eating burning hot lava instead of freezing cold England" Stephens.

To say that I am excited about this casting news would be highly, highly understated.

Oh, no

Okay, so I pay more attention to celebrity (and not-so-celebrity) news than I should. I can freely admit that. But I hope that I at least have more sense than some people.

Just today I found out that Matthew McConaughey's brother, Michael, named his son Miller Lyte.

Seriously.

Oh, my Bacon

I hope all of you had a chance to celebrate Kevin's big 50th birthday yesterday. I did a bit of dancing because, you know, this is our time to dance.

The New American Angler

My dad really likes to fly fish. Really, really likes to fish. In fact, I feel safe in saying it’s one of his very favorite things to do. In the past I have mentioned that I would like to learn how to fish. My dad has zero recollection of this. He’s made a fly rod for each of my brothers and brothers-in-law. I have mentioned that I would like one, along with lessons. He has zero recollection of this as well. That’s okay. Fly fishing may not appear to be something that most girls would enjoy. And sometimes my dad has selective hearing (what parent doesn’t?).

So, a couple of weeks ago, my dad made another comment about making a fly rod, this time for someone not in the family. I was nearby and, again, commented that I would like a rod and lessons. This time he listened. He asked me if I was serious (of course I’m serious!) and if I would want to go with him to learn. And from there, we moved forward.

There is a lot more involved than just going fishing—learning how to cast (or in my case finding out if I’m coordinated enough to cast—I am, barely), getting kitted out, and finding the right spot for the situation. Dad helped me learn to cast, get some rental waders and boots from his favorite place on earth (Fish Tech), and chose Thistle Creek as our location.

Thistle Creek - Location for my initiation

The next morning we headed down. The creek is just off of Spanish Fork Canyon, on the way to Manti. It was a beautiful, sunny morning. Dad chose this particular spot because it’s a small creek, which he thought would make for easier practice. However, the creek was actually running pretty high and pretty fast. In some of the deeper parts the water came up to mid-thigh on me (and haha, brothers, I know you’re thinking ‘that’s only about a foot high’—it was at least a foot and a half). It made moving around a bit difficult at times, and it gave the fish more water to hide in.

It was hard putting everything together—casting correctly, thinking about where the fish would be, staying upright in the water—but I did okay after some practice. The biggest problem I had was getting the line and/or fly stuck in a tree or bush--like every fourth or fifth cast. Dad didn’t realize he would be the number one snag untangler along with being the instructor.

Although I saw a couple of fish in the creek, plus the two Dad caught (plus a muskrat!), I didn’t catch anything. I know, major bummer to the max. I was a tad frustrated but had to remind myself that it was my very first time. Luckily, Dad wasn’t too frustrated with me to agree to go again. I think he was even a little surprised that I had enjoyed it. So, hopefully, I’ll have another lesson in a couple of weeks, which will end in success. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Look at me--I'm doing it!