Unplug

Over MLK weekend I did a un-plug/detox. There were two parts: not using anything that needed a plug for 72 hours, sans lights, and a very modified diet consisting of brown rice, lemon water, and spinach. I was supposed to eat bitter greens but as a girl who hates vegetables spinach was my compromise.

The detox part had its struggles. I crave fried, microwavable, and highly addicting comfort food. I’m lucky I have a fast metabolism. While I was in Kenya, aside from the few times I ate out, everything was (truly) organic and unprocessed. I felt better, had more energy, my skin cleared up, and I promptly went back to my old habits as soon as I returned. The Detox was meant to jump start my eating right. It also is #31 on my Day Zero list. I found that I was less hungry as the food I was eating had more fiber and other nutrients type things that I usually don’t get. But I couldn’t eat when I was bored which I frequently was as TV, music, and movies were all off limits. I tend to multi task usually eating dinner, reading a book, and watching tv all at the same time. For the weekend I attempted to do only one thing at a time. When I was eating dinner, I was eating dinner.

The unplug portion (#29) of the weekend had its own struggles. More than my addiction to processed food I am addicted to noise. When I come home the TV goes on even if I’m not watching it. If not the TV, then the radio or a movie. There is always noise around me. In addition, now that I have internet at my apartment, I’ll read through blogs or check my email more times then necessary. Not having all these safety distractions was harder than I thought it would be. It did give me time to think about the deeper meaning behind my room always being a mess, what I’m chasing after, and my positive characteristics and things I want to change. My journal has a lot of “hmm”, “wow”, and “oooooh” moments.

While not outwardly fun as some of the other things I do in my life, the experience of just being by myself for 72 hours was an adventure too. I’m planning on doing it again in the Spring, working with the natural cycles of the human body.

Favorite quote of the weekend: "Whoever you are, whatever you are, start with that." ~Alice Walker

Concern

Check out Concern Worldwide, an organization I’ve worked with in the past here in the states. They, along with many other organizations, sent staff to Haiti to aid in the relief effort. One staff member, Susan Finucane, left for Haiti within a few hours of the earthquake. On Concern's blog she shares an update of the situation, including the heartache, struggles to get aid through the bottleneck of anarchy, and a story of hope taking the form of a Celinda, a little girl born after the earthquake.

Trapeze

To celebrate the New Year I went with a couple friends to Trapeze School. Yes, “Fly trough the air with the greatest of ease” trapeze school. Why not? It’s one of the perks to living in a cultural mecca- almost anything you can possibly want to do is here. It also happens to be #92 on my DayZero list. I knew I wouldn’t balk once I got up there but climbing the ladder got the adrenalin pumping. Plus, as a child, I was never able to do the monkey bars, a thought prominent in my mind as I leaned over the edge of the platform. Now, not only would I leap from a platform, hang from a bar, pull my knees over my head, and then let go with my hands, I would do so 30-something feet in the air while moving.

Either my arms are stronger than they were when I was a child or I am less willing to accept defeat. It was a fun experience. My friend goes almost every week and I can see why. There is a therapeutic and addictive aspect to overcoming an obstacle and successfully mastering The Catch. A Flyer cannot say they have learned a trick until they make the catch.

When you cliff jump time seems to slow down allowing for a lot of clear, distinct thoughts: “Why did I just leave the safety of the ground? Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Okay I’m still in the air. Why haven’t I hit water yet? What a pretty water snake. I hope it’s not poisonous.”

However, this is not the case while Flying. Perhaps it is because your mind is so full with all the steps that need to be taken that you don’t have time to think about anything else. “Jump, swing, knees up, hands off, wow I didn’t fall off, reach out, grab bar, legs down, forward, back, kick, eek I’m doing a back flip… net”

The following videos are of the Knee Hang trick with differnet endings. The first is with a backflip, another thing that I was never able to do as a child. Perhaps I should try a Slip-and-Slide again. The second video is Knee Hang with Catch. The squeak is from me being completly surprised that the move actually worked.

Snow

It rarely snows in The City. Possibly it’s the heat of the subway, the reflection of the sun off the buildings, or just too much body heat, but true snow, the kind that stays on the ground instead of turning to instant slush, seldom happens. I don’t think anything is as beautiful as the woods after a few feet of snow have fallen or a frozen waterfall. I was surprised at how dramatic the City is during a snow storm before the cars still on the road destroyed the snow turning it to grey wet slush. While I was walking back from a holiday party I came across a beautiful street corner. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, streets are filled with evergreen trees letting off a fragrant aroma. That evening they were covered in the freshly fallen snow making it feel a little more like Christmas. It was the most peaceful moment in a city that is never still.

The next day I attempted snowboarding for the first time. I’ve been cross country skiing for years and have attempted downhill skiing a few times. I’m not a very good skier, in fact, I’m pretty bad but I always have fun. I’m the type that falls down with flare leaving a trail of skis, hats, gloves, and goggles behind. Last year I successfully ran into a small tree, a not so tiny person, and fell into a ditch to have ski patrol come and rescue me.

Snowboarding was less chaotic although I spent most of the time falling on my butt while attempting to stand up. That was part of the fun. It was all about overcoming obstacles even when the obstacle is just making it down a hill. The most important thing is not to give up. I had a gravitational pull to a particular sign, fell down more times than I can count, and laughed a lot harder than I have in the past few weeks. And that makes it the perfect way to spend a snowstorm.

Speakeasy

I stole this story from another blogger. I couldn’t pass sharing this incredible find. Apparently, a person/couple/group purchased a building in Queens and when they removed old boxes from the basement they found a 2-lane manual bowling alley. After some research the building was thought to be a speakeasy under a garment factory. Check out the story here: http://www.scoutingny.com/?p=1227

I didn’t even know I wanted one until I knew it was possible. My list of requirements for my imaginary house just grew by one. Secret Bowling Alley: non-negotiable.

Anyway- check out Scouting NY. It’s a fun blog of a film location scout who finds all sorts of interesting and usually unnoticed things in the City. Things such as half buildings, metal rats, and secret sculptures coming out of the East River. Once the weather is nice I’ll take my camera and try and find some of these things on my own.

Thanksgiving

There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter--the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something... the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion... each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh eyes of an adventurer... ~E.B. White

I love this quote. It was part of a subway advertising system aimed to make those of us who take public transportation smarter. Also included are the opening lines from Metamorphosis and quotes from “notable” New Yorkers. I’ve hesitated putting it in my blog because anything along the lines of lyrics to “New York, New York” clearly labels me a transplant. But as a true New Yorker told me this past week, I have to live here for at least eight years before I can say I’m a New Yorker anyway. Even then I might not earn that right as my crucial to my development as a person, high school years, were spent in the suburbs. So I might as well enjoy the glorified tourist status while I’ve got it.

Part of the fun of being a transplant in NYC is the joy of doing everything you possibly can, from scavenger hunts and 200+ person balloon fights, to pub crawls and local museums. Added to the joy of random sighting such as the guy who dragged his dead stuffed dog on wheels throughout the subway station. Questions such as “What?, Why?, Really? are very common but met with the attitude of: “Who really cares. It will make a great story.” It took me a while to realize that I live here so if I don’t head off to a museum or a meet-up event every weekend it will be okay. I’m not a tourist that has to fit it all in within a few days.

For Thanksgiving this year I got to host, sans the cooking portion. We saw the balloons get inflated (with barely able to move through crowds), the Macy’s Day parade (with crowds starting around 6:30 in the morning), Dave and Busters (dad got beat in almost everything), and Black Friday shopping (four hours of speedshopping and we only got through two stores). Hopefully next year mom will be able to join us.

Taboo

Recently, I’ve been intrigued by the National Geographic show Taboo. It takes a look at a variety of customs throughout the world that outsiders might find forbidden or unmentionable, ranging in topic from food and standards of beauty, to death and child-rearing. I respect the show for trying to remain unbiased even if it doesn’t always succeed. It includes American customs I take for granted through the lenses of an outsider, shaping behaviors as strange, even unthinkable. The episode on demon possession presented American preachers in the same light as vo-doo priestesses. It makes sense; in a society without the belief in demonic possession either would seem anomalous. In a similar vein, putting make-up on your dead relatives, filling them with chemicals to avoid decay, and literally staring at the bodies, really is a little odd compared to the rest of the world.

Americans are notorious for not even trying to adapt to a different way of life when visiting other countries. Sometimes it isn’t on purpose; it takes a lifetime to adapt to all the nuances that cultures develop. These little behaviors create an “us” enabling a sense of belonging. But there is a danger when the “us against them” mentality emerges. There is a lot more to say about this topic and it always inspires dynamic, energetic, discussions. I leave it firmly within the category of being both a blessing and a curse and instead wander to amusing stories where my own unconscious cultural paradigms were exposed.

When visiting Montreal as a child my family wondered why the McDonalds was so loud, only to find when we all started eating that all the noise had been coming from one table… ours. A fellow classmate who came from a society that did not wear jewelry on hands asked me to explain the meaning of wearing rings. Seemed simple enough until I realized there are a lot of variables, and always exceptions- the gender of the wearer, which finger the ring is on, what stone is in the ring. While visiting a Thai University American culture class my team was asked: “Why do you keep your kids in cages?” We didn’t even know what they were talking about at first- cribs and playpens. I’ve been asked if I have a awful relationship with my mother because I destroyed our life link- I have a pierced belly button. By the way, I don’t have a bad relationship with my mother; she inspired this blog and follows it among other things.