Fall To-Do List

I'm going to go ahead and say it: This summer was a bit of a disappointment. Don't you agree? It rained all of June; July came and went; and I'm not sure what happened to August. And now September has come and gone. How has this happened?

That said, I made it through about half my summer to-do list. Now, onto fall, which I enjoy even more than summer. In fact, this morning, I woke up with the windows open and the cool air breezing in and I felt happier than I have in a long time. So, here goes ... this fall, I will:

* Hike Breakneck Ridge
* Go to Maine and visit Salt Water Farm -- DONE! I went last weekend for my birthday. More on that soon, when I get my pictures developed. (Yes, developed. I shot with film if you can believe it ...)
* Sit on the edge of Lake Metacomet
* Volunteer at the New York Marathon again
* Go to two weddings in the midwest -- one in Chicago this weekend, the other in Minnesota
* Volunteer at 826 Brooklyn
* Apple pick
* Meet baby Elsa, the daughter of my friend from my Country Home days, in Virginia
* Spend the rest of my 5 vacation days, which means I just might go back to Oregon and spend it on the coast. Maybe!

Anything else? What are you doing this fall?

General 54

Favorite neighborhood in Montreal: Mile End.

We ate bagels (though they were not as good as New York bagels) and drank coffee ...

(photos by jes)

And we shopped. A lot. We stopped by General 54 before it opened, and stalled and stalled and stalled until they finally opened the doors sometime after noon. The store carries Jennifer Glasgow Design and it's because of her that I dropped way too much money. But it was Canadian dollars, right? Right? I bought:

This dress in gray, and it criss-crosses in the back. (Don't worry, I wear a cami underneath to keep it decent.)


And this skirt. And I have no guilt. Even when my credit card bill is due, I'll have no guilt ... because they're super cute and I can nearly guarantee that no one else in New York'll be wearing the same outfit as me.

Looks like Glasgow isn't carried anywhere in the States—but you can shop online!

Montreal

Over the Fourth of July, I pulled a really un-American move. I left the US and went to Canada.

Some friends and I traveled an hour and a half by plane to Montreal. It isn't as European as I'd heard it would be, but regardless, it was a good getaway to another country in which English isn't the dominant language.

We really had no agenda, but we saw fireworks on the Fourth, thanks to the International Fireworks Competition. Thanks, Australia!

We discovered the neighborhoods, and ate a lot and drank a lot of coffee. And shopped. More about that later.

Plus, we strolled around Parc du Mont Royal and stumbled upon their Sunday drummers circle. Reminded me of the movie, The Visitor (which you should see.)

Then we got lost in a Labyrinth, with a bunch of 12-year-olds and it was fantastic.

And in the middle of Old Montreal, a street performer entertained the crowd for our loonies and toonies.

And of course, we (er, Jes and Sarah) tried Poutine, Montreal's delicacy of French fries covered in gravy and cheese curds. As you can see, Jamie wasn't loving it.

So, everything about Canada was great, right? Well, except, for the journey back. See, on my way back, I forgot I had mace in my bag. Yup, that good ol' mace—bought for me by my grandmother—has made it through nearly every single security check in the past two years, so I totally forgot I had it. (That's disconcerting, yeah?) But who gets randomly searched at the border? Moi. (See that? That was French.) So they go through my bag and find the mace. Long story short, I was berated by six big Canadian policeman about having it, and apparently if I called it "dog repellent" instead of having it for personal defense, I would have been ok. But mace is not only not kosher to fly with (duh—totally my fault, I get it) but it's also just plain illegal in Canada. So I was essentially breaking the law.

Then, they start asking for all my information, and to see an ID with my current address. But I don't have an ID with my current address—I shamefully still have an Iowa ID. (That was, um, four or five addresses ago.) So I had to explain where I've lived, and then they yelled at me about that, too. (I'm now a proud owner of a New York driver's license. I'll be getting called for jury duty soon, I'm sure.)

About 30 minutes later, lots of speaking in French, and a debate on how to say "editor" in French, they let me go. Phew. But, I might not ever be allowed back in Canada. Sad. Glad I enjoyed it while I was there!

So, lesson learned: Don't bring mace to Canada and you'll be fine.

Lost my mind in Oregon

Have I mentioned lately how much I love Portland? And how much I miss Oregon?



Don't get me wrong: I love New York, too. But where else can you just climb a mountain and stand on the edge of the world better than you can in Oregon?


I took a much-needed vacation to Portland over Memorial Day. First on my must-do list? Hike. Nicole and I climbed Saddle Mountain this time.

We were supposed to see Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Hood, Mt. Rainer and the whole Pacific coast from the top.


But by the time we go there, our heads were literally in the clouds.

And this was as good as it got. But I'm not complaining one little bit.

Then we headed to the coast—Ecola State Park—which may be my favorite place in the entire world. The rest of the weekend was filled with bagels, coffee, crossword puzzles, Sauvie Island, Portland Saturday Market, four-square, beer, barbecues, good runs, beautiful weather and sun.


But most of all, I saw the people I miss. It's true—I don't think I'll ever be able to shake myself from Oregon.

I heart LGA

No, no really, I dislike LaGuardia airport, and so far Midwest Airlines, too.

It's not Midwest's fault this time. (Over Thanksgiving, it sure was and they had no cookies to make up for it. I'm still smarting.) This time, it's Mother Nature's fault. It's snowing, blah blah blah. All flights but mine have been canceled, and if mine is canceled, my next option is Thursday. That's almost a week from today, kids, and it's also Christmas Day.

Le sigh.

My flight's not 'til 8 pm (in theory), but my boss practically pushed me out the door at noon. "Go!" she said. "Get on a flight, any flight."

So I skipped rush hour and grabbed a cab. After an hour in line, I'm here with a Vanity Fair, the Reasons to Love NYC issue of New York mag, the fantastic Laura Marling on my iPod (download now, please), "Sex and the City" Netflix DVD, an $8 pass to get online, webmail for work, and Hulu.com. I think I'm set for a while.

I'm sitting at the same gate as always: B1. There's a squeaky air vent that squeaked the last time I was here, too. I've no longer wondered how long of my life I waste at stoplights; instead I think about time wasted waiting for trains and airplanes.

There's a girl sitting across from me who I swear went to my middle school. I know she lives in NYC, so it would make sense that she'd be waiting for a KC flight, too. I'm just waiting for a good time (when I'm good and bored) to possibly make a grand fool of myself by asking, "Kate? Kate from Overland Trail?"

If only I weren't at the airport, and I'd be so giddily excited about this snow.

This was Fall

Although winter's upon us (Christmas? What?) I sadly neglected much of fall. Here was life:

Food

Running along the Brooklyn Promenade

Apple picking upstate (last picture by Sarah)

Pumpkin carving and cupcake making (cupcake photo by Jes)

NYC Marathon-ing (er, volunteering)

Celebrating

Reuniting in Boston

Ani

As a Treat ...

When/if I finally land a job, I'd very much like to reward myself with a little yoga retreat. (Yeah, yeah, I know: Rachel lands a job, immediately goes on vacation. I'm talking about a few months after being hired.)


See, the bitch of life is that when I probably need yoga the most, I can't afford it. It's been July since I've been to a class; probably the longest stretch I've gone since I started practice, oh, six years ago.

Any recommendations on YouTube videos for at-home practice?

Julie and Cara: I think you should join me on this Mexican retreat. Yeah? Good.

Traipsing around the East Coast

It's been a few days. Sorry 'bout that. I'd give the same, lame excuse (things have been nutty), but I'll spare you that.

I've been in the city a month. Still freelancing, still unemployed, but now I'm in this odd rut of trying to pitch stories and get more jobs--in other words, I'm doing a TON of work for no money. So, I'm resorting to getting some sort of baby-sitting job or something to make ends meet. I'm reverting back to a high school existence. Can you tell I'm thrilled about it?

That said, I did make it down to DC this weekend for a good friend's and old co-worker's wedding. And, praise be, I'm off the wedding hook until 2009!

Thank you, Megabus, for your grand $38 transportation.

And thank you Hotel Monticello for transporting us back to the 1700s and waking us up with these nice mules:

Georgetown's M Street is fantastic. I'd never been down to DC before, so I was thrilled both of the friends I was with were up to making it into a mini-vacation. We shopped (window shopping, of course) and ate. A lot. Crabcakes, shrimp, beer, yum!

Saturday morning, we got up (not early; I was sleeping on a real bed and was reveling) and then decided to traipse around the National Mall to see the monuments. A quick nervous moment when the parking garage attendent lost our keys but we found them and were on our way.

Again, I'd never been to DC, so my inner nerd revealed itself quickly. Lincoln, Jefferson, Roosevelt, oh my! I geeked out. Next time: museums. Watch out.

That's me in front of Mr. Obama's new house for the next four years.

Sandy and me Washington Monument-ing.

Where Jenny saw Forrest again!

After our whirlwind National Mall tour, we scooted back to Georgetown, gorged on sweet potato fries at the Tackle Box (seriously, go there), and drove to the Holiday Inn in Leesburg, Virginia. Well to be more accurate, we drove there, passed the hotel, then after a "uh, I'm getting concerned we're going the wrong way," drove back again (when there are iPhones in the car playing Jon Stewart videos, we miss exits).

Quickest wedding preparations ever at the hotel, then we sped off to the b-ea-u-tiful Breaux Vineyards in Purceville, Virginia.

I'm a big fan of weddings at wineries.

The best Country Home staff there ever was.

A quick trip back on Megabus, and I was back in the city. A great trip.

This weekend: My 25th birthday. Yes, kids, it's true. I've been around for a good quarter century. But to be honest, I'm not feeling to keen on the whole party I planned for tomorrow. I'd rather just let it pass quietly--after all, it's hard to celebrate when you, uh, don't have a job, apartment, or otherwise real meaning for existence. However, drama aside, it should be fun.