Grow up

Babytalk magazine published their latest issue on the topic of breastfeeding. And what picture adorns the cover? A breast with a baby attached to it. And of course, the complaining and outrage begins.

One woman is quoted as saying, "I shredded it...A breast is a breast-- it's a sexual thing. [My 13-year old son] didn't need to see that. I don't want my son or husband to accidentally see a breast they didn't want to see."

Other women echoed the same sentiments.

My response to them: Grow up!

Because these are the same women who would argue that women are more than sexual objects, that the body is more than just a sexual object and who would be offended if any guy treated them as such. But yet, here they are perpetuating this notion that the world can't be subjected to lactating mothers feeding their babies in public, because-- horror of horrors!-- a man may see said breast and turn to mush.

And from their reactions, you would think that all over the globe, women are whipping out their breasts for all to see before actually beginning to breasfeed. In fact, all the breastfeeding women I know are actually very discreet about it, whether in private or in public. All you actually see is a baby suckling on something; but that something is not really too visible.

And you know what? If it is a bit visible, and if it does bother you so much, then turn away. Have some self control and find something else to stare at.

I win

Last week, I wrote about a bet that I won but never gave any details. I haven't written about it yet, because I've been debating exactly how much to write, since my blog has been getting quite amount of traffic lately, from absolute strangers to family, friends, and new family. A lot goes on behind the curtain, so to speak, that not everyone needs to know about; but, on the other hand, the purpose of this blog is to serve as a brain dump recorder, a place where I can write unhibited. It's difficult, though, when you know exactly who's reading and who's paying close attention to detail.

With that as a disclaimer, I share with you a short story.

Once upon a time, on a Friday night in the beginning of January of 2004, girl meets boy and was enamored by his smile. Boy was visiting friends but left town Sunday night. Girl got boy's email address from boy's best friend, since she decided that boys don't know how to make the first move anymore and girl knew that he was IT. Email correspondence ensues for a month and boy returns to town to visit girl. A relationship grows. All of a sudden, one night in November, boy sadly says that he can no longer see girl. Girl cries for days and days, weeks and weeks, and then goes away on vacation, promising to never think of boy again, but secretly inside hopes one day for their paths to cross again. So much so, that girl records the following lines:

If this were a script for a movie, the next thing I would write is this: after a time of seperation and time of thinking and contempation, boy calls girl to say hello. They have a congenial conversation, and boy asks girl out on a date, suggesting they start over from scratch, woo each other like they never knew each other before, and they start to discover each other again for the very first time. And they live happily ever after.

Months pass and girl has moved on. Then, on a Wednesday night in late 2005, boy reappears and tells girl that if he could, he would try it all over again, and do things differently. Girl doesn't know what to do but decides to give boy another chance. This was what she was secretly hoping for months ago, right? Slowly, the relationship grows as if it had never disappeared. Eight months later, on a Saturday night in July, boy takes girl to his favorite DC spot, the Jefferson Memorial, and asks her to marry him. Girl says yes.

And, like she wrote two years ago, they lived happily ever after.

The end.

Sheer happiness

Andrew and I got engaged on Saturday night at the Jefferson Memorial. I don't think it came as a surprise to most, but it's an exciting time nonetheless. For all of you dying for details, here they are:

Andrew suggested we go get some donuts from the Krispy Kreme in Alexandria on Saturday night. As we start driving, I notice that Andrew is going the wrong way-- seemingly plausible, as it was something he has done in the past. So he suggests we go another way, taking I395 into Route 1 in Virginia. For those of you familiar with the area, I395 and the Jefferson Memorial are very close. Once he didn't get on the highway but instead continue to the memorial parking area, I knew what was going on. (I really knew something was up earlier in the day when he suggested that we go for donuts by ourselves and not invite our friends to join us, but we won't tell Andrew.)

So, we walked towards the memorial, said hello to our man Jeff, read some of the quotes on the wall, and sat on the steps, overlooking the Tidal Basin with the majestic Washington Monument in the background. We sat there for a few minutes, taking in the view and briefly sharing with each other how much we love the city, especially at night, and then he turned to me and said that he had something for me. He rummanged through his knapsack and took out a box, wrapped in silver paper with a nice ribbon. As I opened the box, he explained that while the ring will come at a later date, he wanted to use this as a token of our engagement. Inside, I found a beautiful necklace: a sterling silver blue topaz pendant on a silver chain. After looking at it together, he simply just asked me to marry him. I said yes.

We hung around the memorial for another hour or so, making phone calls to our family and close friends. At around 12:15am, we got back to my apartment. Waiting for me, was a terrific setup: streamers hanging from the walls, a dozen roses in a vase, and a fondue pot with all the requisite ingredients: chocolate chips, graham crackers, and marshmellows all arranged on my table, and berries and wine waiting in the fridge. Turns out that Andrew had given my spare set of keys to our friend Elana, who snuck in after we left to set everything up. How terrific!

We spent Sunday in Philadelphia, the halfway point between New York and D, to have lunch with both our families. Turns out Andrew also arranged for our families to be free today so they could celebrate with us. Now that was a nice surprise. :-)

Day was long, full of phone calls, driving, food, family, friends, and fun (all I can say is, thank God for free nights and weekends!) Day was super long, especially since I didn't sleep on Saturday night. Until I got to bed at 2am, my body was all wound up, how was I even expected to sleep? After parting with our families, we met up with a friend of Andrew's, and then had dinner in Baltimore with two close friends. Although we were both so utterly exhausted, basically running on steam by 8pm, it was great to stop and spend time with them.

Now, it's time to get to sleep.

Hell in a handbasket

Israel.
Gaza.
Lebanon.
Iran.

World's going to hell in a handbasket, folks. Who's bringing the popcorn?

Happy Birthday!

Happy birthday, ReZ. O. Lution!

My first post, one year ago today.

Since July 2005, I lost my job, volunteered for the American Red Cross after Hurricane Katrina, contemplated moving to another continent, spent time with two new nephews, theorized on a whole bunch of political topics of the day, sold out to the man, watched and became a player in a few soap operas, marched down the aisle for two terrific friends who tied the knot together, and experienced a ton of other stuff that I just don't have the time to delineate right now. I took up cycling, traveled to Aruba and in the process received a $500 voucher with Continental, won a bet with myself that you won't find out about until later, made new friends, lost touch with some old ones, and uncaged the inner bird. Oh yeah, I also jumped out of a plane, visited Seattle, experienced Vertigo, and experienced it again.

It's been an interesting ride. And who knows what this roller coaster of life has in store for me next. I'm very much looking forward to finding out.

Time to re-instate a rule

The "no one walks home alone" rule.

Not that walking with someone will necessarily help in some cases. But it can't hurt.

It's inevitable that when living in a city where most people don't drive to get where they have to go, you'll find yourself walking home alone late at night. Hey, I do it every single weekend, whether it's walking home from synagogue on Friday or Saturday nights or from a friend's home after a nice meal or get-together. And 99% of the time, I feel safe. Hell, it's not like I live in the middle of Prince George's County. I live in friggin Foggy Bottom, a few blocks from Georgetown, right off the GWU campus, near a big hospital, etc etc etc.

But, there's always something. Two years ago, an old lady was mugged and beaten right outside of my friend's apartment building, 1 block from the Foggy Bottom metro and 3 from my apartment building. Lately, we've been hearing about muggings and assaults in Georgetown, and now this.

But human nature is to acknowledge and then ignore things like this until they hit home and affect your friends. And then you start to care, and then you start to worry. And then you start to glance over your shoulder just one more time while you attempt to find your keys in your bag, wanting them in your hands, just in case. And you start to avoid walking down L Street between 24th and 25th, even though it's the quicker route home, because the street lights don't work. So you find and take another route. And then you ask those close to you to call or send a text message letting you know that they got home safely, so you don't have to worry as you try to go to sleep.

Maybe I'm paranoid. Or maybe I'm just taking extra precautions and being responsible. Who knows. Who cares. That's life in the big city, right?

Biking!

Andrew and I went on our first biking trip last weekend. The itinerary called for a 27-mile ride around the Shenandoah River, a drive along Skyline Drive in the late afternoon, an overnight rest in Culpeper, and then either another 30-mile ride, or a walking tour of some of Virginia's historic county areas, such as Culpeper, Orange, and Montpelier.

Our trip started Sunday morning as we locked our bikes on the trunk of my car. While driving on I-66 heading west, I all of a sudden remembered the one thing I forgot to pack: sneakers. D'oh! As luck would have it, we were a few exits from a Walmart, and while it's not my most favorite place, we didn't really have much of a choice but to stop. I couldn't really bikeride in my sandals, now could I? Thankfully, Andrew's sister and brother-in-law navigated us successfully from the highway to the store. What's a world without internet buddies?

We got to the starting point in Millwood at around noon, changed into our biking gear (mmm, guy in spandex!), ate lunch (mistake #1), and were on our way. Now, let me just remind everyone why I chose this ride from the book we bought-- because of it's description:

This short ramble is a great beginner’s ride that takes the cyclist along the pleasant country roads of Clarke and Warren counties. Although there are several short climbs, the terrain is mainly gently rolling and suitable for any cyclist. While the first half of the ride offers splendid views of the Blue Ridge, the second half winds along the Shenandoah River, tempting the cyclist to take a refreshing dip. The ride begins and ends in Millwood, a small village and home to the Burwell-Morgan Mill. Terrain: Gently rolling, with a few climbs. Suitable for beginners. (emphasis added.)

I bought my bike in March and since then, I've done no more than 10-15 mile stretches at once, mostly on flat ground. I consider myself a beginner and wouldn't kid myself about what I'm capable of doing. Plus, I know my legs aren't the strongest, so climbing isn't my strong suit.

So this ride sounds like it's suitable for a rider like me, right? WRONG! "Several short climbs" is not really an apt description. There were quite a few rolling hills, as country roads in this neck of the woods are apt to be. I wasn't so thrilled at the site of them. (I'm considering filing suit against the author for false advertising.)

Anyways, the first 5 miles were tremendously difficult. And not necessarily only because of the hills. Remember mistake #1? Yeah. We ate lunch before our ride and didn't wait to let the sandwiches digest properly. I had to get off my bike at least 3 or 4 times every 5 minutes or so, because my lower body just felt like lead and I had absolutely no energy at all. Zero. Zilch. I thought I would really pass out. It was so bad, I couldn't even tell Andrew how I was feeling, because I just had no energy to even talk. I was seriously contemplating turning back, and Andrew suggested he would ride back and get the car to pick me up. I felt terrible, since we were both looking forward to this trip and I really didn't want to wimp out. But I also wasn't confident I could get thru another 5 miles, let alone the full 27.

By mile 5, my body had had enough, and I pulled over to the side, collapsed to the ground, and just puked. Needless to say, I felt better after that. :)

From mile 5 till around a little before our resting point (mile 16.9), we cruised. Yes, I had to get off my bike a few times and walk up the hill in front of me, but I felt good and wanted to push forward. The scenery was beautiful and we had a nice view of the mountains and valleys with country homes and farms smattered in between. We saw cows and horses and some road kill of course.

A few highlights:

*At approximately mile 10 or 11, we hit the river. The map told us of a one lane bridge that crosses the river, and as we approached it, we recalled the torrential rains that had fallen on these parts just last week and wondered aloud in what state we would actually find the bridge. Our eyes widened as the bridge came into view with the river flowing fast literally just a foot from over-running it. Pretty amazing!

* The climb to our rest stop at mile 16.9 was steep. While Andrew attacked the hill like a good climber, I was forced to get off my bike yet again and slowly make my way to the top. An air-conditioned mini market was waiting for me. By the time I got up there, I was ready to quit, but Andrew reminded me that if we had to climb to get here, the next leg of the ride would be downhill. Good point. So after a 15 minute rest, we got back on our bikes and headed downhill. My cruising speed right now on flat ground is usually around 12.3 mph. Going downhill, I fly at 25-28 mph. You can just imagine the rush of wind. It's fun. On the way down, I see a half-mile ahead of me something in the middle of the road. It could very well be roadkill but as I got closer, it slowly moved in my lane. Even closer, I noticed it was a turtle! And it was right in my way. I had no idea what to do, since it was too late to swirve to the other side of the road, and I certainly didn't want to run over the darn little thing. So as I approach it at 25 mph (which is quite fast on a bike), I screamed "turtle!" for no reason what so ever and was thankfully able to manuver a bit to my right to just miss hitting the turtle's shell.

*I'm no Lance Armstrong, but I survived the 27-mile ride. I learned that there are two aspects to biking: distance and climbing. I have no problem with distance. In fact, if the terrain were flat, I think I could probably ride for a long while before getting tired. It's the climbing that kills me. But a lot of the interesting and beautiful trails and bike routes are hilly, so if I want to continue doing this, I need to get into shape-- strengthing my core area and thighs/hamstrings. That begins on Monday.

We decided to do the walking tours on Monday, considering how hot and humid it was and we were both physically exhausted. The highlight of the day was our visit to Montpelier, the home of James and Dolley Madison. HIGHLY recommended. The history of the mansion is interesting, and Madison is a fascinating study. The home is going thru total renovations, which makes the visit now even more amazing, because you are actually walking thru a construction site and can see the evolution of the house from what it was when Madison's grandfather bought it, to how Madison himself renovated it, to the additions on the home when Dolley had to sell it. The Duponts were the last private owners and they willed it to the National Trust to be restored to it's original state. Montpelier is only 80-90 miles from DC and is very worth the trip.