1. I’ve hesitated to do one of these lists because I don’t want to be a self-indulgent person
2. But I’ve really liked reading the ones my friends have done, so I’m doing it anyway
3. I make kick-ass fudge.
4. I’m afraid of caterpillars.
5. I married way younger than I thought I would.
6. If it’s fried, then it must taste good.
7. I’ve been told that I look younger and act older than my years.
8. I tend to be impulsive with major decisions and stupidly indecisive with minor ones.
9. My zodiac signs are almost all Capricorn and Aries
10. I’ve never been to the southern hemisphere
11. I’ve illegally crossed an international border once just for fun.
12. I’m afraid of flying, but I do it anyway.
13. I want to try skydiving at least once.
14. I don’t like being around drunk or pregnant people because I am afraid of vomit, and those demographics vomit with alarming frequency.
15. I don’t like using airplane, bus station, or airport bathrooms because those seem to be the most likely places where one’s neighbor will be vomiting.
16. Fear of vomit is called ‘emetophobia’…I like words.
17. I like scrabble
18. I can’t cheat at scrabble…rather I can cheat too well, so it feels really wrong when I do and I don’t like it.
19. I do cheat at cards.
20. I’m a lousy speller.
21. Cancer is my family’s usual ticket off this mortal coil. But we have strong hearts…
22. I fear growing old. Rather I fear being trapped in a broken-down body with a working mind.
23. I think I want to be a professor when I grow up.
24. I want to be a mom someday.
25. I love snorkeling, but scuba-diving scares me. Likewise being in a submarine.
26. I have no desire to go into outer space even if touristic space travel becomes possible.
27. I like breathing when things go wrong. (see above)
28. I really want to invest in the stock market right now.
29. I’m an artist.
30. I love art that other people make.
31. I am generally forgiving.
32. I am generally for giving.
33. I like feeding my friends.
34. I enjoy hosting parties, but get nervous about going to them.
35. I don’t think I’m terribly smart, but I am very well-educated.
36. I am a literary omnivore. Pulp and classics make me equally happy.
37. I am sucker for grocery store check-out line tabloids.
38. I have crooked toes.
39. I love manicures and pedicures, but hardly ever get them.
40. I love vintage.
41. 80’s in NOT vintage.
42. I feel most confident in boots.
43. I am a hypocritical vegetarian.
44. I studied abroad both in high school and in college. High school was a summer study in Belize; college was a semester in England.
45. I won a grant to travel the world for 8.5 months 2007-2008.
46. I have walked across Spain (The Camino de Santiago).
47. I loved it and want to do it again.
48. I have outrun a rockslide in Nepal.
49. I have never seen Everest.
50. I really want to do an extended trip in Mongolia.
51. Also South America.
52. And Australia.
53. And New Zealand.
54. And Africa.
55. And…And…And…
56. I do not believe in packing more than I can carry while running for a train.
57. I love animals.
58. I used to have a pet chicken.
59. My parents thought I would outgrow my love of horses.
60. I haven’t.
61. I still sleep with Rosetta the Brontosaurus and Freddie the Pony.
62. I sometimes take the local train if I think there might not be any seats on the express.
63. I am the only person I know who likes anchovies on their pizza.
64. There are things about me that will most certainly not be on this list.
65. I’ve never had an imaginary friend for more than a day or two.
66. The monster under my bed had green scales and red nails
67. I still believe in faeries, unicorns, etc
68. Daffodils are my favorite flower
69. I’d rather visit the dentist than the gynecologist.
70. I thought I wanted to be physics major with an astronomy track when I started college
71. When I was little, I thought I wanted to be a vet
72. I am neither of those things.
73. I study constellation maps for fun, and if I lived somewhere that ever got dark, I would probably get myself a telescope
74. I miss the dark
75. I’m a little afraid of the dark
76. Morally I would like to be a vegan, but my favorite foods are almost all dairy and seafood
77. Except fresh fruit. I really like fruit.
78. I am a shameless eavesdropper and over-the-shoulder reader.
79. I sing “Showertime” to the tune of “Hammertime” almost every time I get in the shower.
80. I sing “Scrub It” to the tune of “Whip It” when I scrub the tub.
81. I do not sing in public.
82. I don’t like sleeping alone.
83. I love caffeine.
84. I prefer my beer and my chocolate dark.
85. If I don’t have almond or vanilla extract when baking, I substitute liquors.
86. Sometimes I mispronounce words just for fun.
87. If I don’t know the answer to a question, I’m likely to make something up.
88. I have a mean streak which I generally keep to myself.
89. I like being outside
90. I try to live by the golden rule.
91. I get upset when other people don’t.
92. I am decidedly left in my political leanings.
93. I have lived long enough in black and Hispanic working-class neighborhoods that I get nervous in expensive white ones.
94. Waiting in line annoys me.
95. I am almost always late.
96. I hate running late.
97. I don’t like, and generally don’t forward chain letters, but it makes me nervous not to.
98. I get anxiety attacks without feeling anxious…all the physical symptoms, but with a thoroughly detached mental state.
99. I believe in luck.
100. I found this list way harder to fill than I thought it would be.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Milk, Obama
In NY, people have perfected the art of ignoring one another. With a population upwards of 8 million, we simply don't have the time or energy to really see each other. But on November 4th, when the election results came in, New York City suddenly became a city of friends. We poured out of bars and apartments, dancing, drumming, and chanting in the streets. If it could be used to make noise, we used it to make noise - cabs honked, trash can lids banged, and thousands of voices chanted "Yes We Did!" and "Obama, Obama, Barak Hussein Obama!" We hugged strangers and high-fived cabbies and pizza delivery guys as they passed. We wept with joy.
Last night I went to see Milk with Cz and Tim. I couldn't help but hear the parallels in the speeches of Harvey Milk and the speeches of Barak Obama. And I couldn't help but notice how similar the exuberance expressed in San Francisco when Milk finally won felt to the exuberance we felt in NYC when Obama was elected president. But mostly I felt sad. Achingly, heartbreakingly sad. The people in the movie seemed so happy, felt so victorious, yet just a few months ago, as we celebrated Obama's victory, Prop 8 passed in California, and the adoption ban for gay couples passed in Arkansas.
In that light, the celebrations of Milk and his supporters seemed heartbreakingly naive. Today, more than 30 years after his election an subsequent assassination, my friends still can't get married, still have to be careful when and where they kiss, still have to face stares and anger should they choose to have children. It makes me wonder what will happen in the next several years. I don't want to downplay what either Barak Obama or Harvey Milk achieved - it is huge, but at the same time, we have such a very long way to go. In twenty years, will we look back on our celebrations of election night and mourn our own naivete? Or will our children raise their eyebrows and shake their heads at what a backwards world their parents lived in?
Last night I went to see Milk with Cz and Tim. I couldn't help but hear the parallels in the speeches of Harvey Milk and the speeches of Barak Obama. And I couldn't help but notice how similar the exuberance expressed in San Francisco when Milk finally won felt to the exuberance we felt in NYC when Obama was elected president. But mostly I felt sad. Achingly, heartbreakingly sad. The people in the movie seemed so happy, felt so victorious, yet just a few months ago, as we celebrated Obama's victory, Prop 8 passed in California, and the adoption ban for gay couples passed in Arkansas.
In that light, the celebrations of Milk and his supporters seemed heartbreakingly naive. Today, more than 30 years after his election an subsequent assassination, my friends still can't get married, still have to be careful when and where they kiss, still have to face stares and anger should they choose to have children. It makes me wonder what will happen in the next several years. I don't want to downplay what either Barak Obama or Harvey Milk achieved - it is huge, but at the same time, we have such a very long way to go. In twenty years, will we look back on our celebrations of election night and mourn our own naivete? Or will our children raise their eyebrows and shake their heads at what a backwards world their parents lived in?
Monday, May 5, 2008
Beating a...
I'm going to keep harping on this one. It's been a touchy issue for me for some time. I like horses. Horseracing can be a beautiful sport. It can also be an incredibly cruel sport, and is definitely in need of a major overhaul. Here's another article on the death of Derby filly Eight Belles. http://msn.foxsports.com/horseracing/story/8105724?MSNHPHCP>1=39002
Baking Tips
I stumbled on this one by accident when I wanted to bake cookies and realized that I had no baking soda in the house. If you like soft, chewy cookies, substitute cornstarch and baking powder for the baking soda in the recipe. Replace up to 1/4 cup of the flour with cornstarch, and instead of 1tsp baking soda, use 1/2 tsp baking powder in conjunction with the cornstarch. For cookies that are soft through, replace up to half the butter with crisco. For cookies with soft middles and crispy edges use all unsalted butter. Margerine just won't cut it.
When making pie crust, put the butter in the freezer for a few hours before using so it gets really hard. Then grate it into your flour with a cheese grater for guaranteed flaky goodness. What makes pie crust flaky is when particles of butter are coated with flour. During baking, the butter melts leaving butter-lined air pockets in the crust. Grating the butter in ensures a minimum of processing of the crust, making it easier to achieve these air pockets.
When making pie crust, put the butter in the freezer for a few hours before using so it gets really hard. Then grate it into your flour with a cheese grater for guaranteed flaky goodness. What makes pie crust flaky is when particles of butter are coated with flour. During baking, the butter melts leaving butter-lined air pockets in the crust. Grating the butter in ensures a minimum of processing of the crust, making it easier to achieve these air pockets.
PETA not so nuts
PETA, I feel, is often so extreme in its views as to cause backlash. This time, however, I agree with nearly all of their points. My comments are added in bold. Please link through to, and sign, the petition.
PETA demanding changes after Eight Belles' death
PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) has called for the suspension and investigation of Eight Belles jockey Gabriel Saez, and also has started an online petition to change the rules of thoroughbred racing.
Flatly ignoring PETA's suggestions could be risky for a sport where interest has steadily waned, and which is under siege after a succession of high-profile horses dying on the track.
PETA flexed considerable muscle in the sports world last year, raising the outrage about the Michael Vick dogfighting charges that sent the Atlanta Falcons quarterback to prison.
PETA's four demands are:
1) No racing or training for a thoroughbred until it turns 3 years old. The organization contends the animals' legs aren't fully developed until then. At least. I would say no training until three, no racing until four. Just as you wouldn't enter an eight year old child in the NYC marathon, baby horses shouldn't be running at the top of the game.
2) No more racing on dirt tracks. The group says the synthetic surfaces now used at Keeneland in Lexington, Ky., and at California tracks are far safer and result in fewer equine breakdowns and fatalities. Eh. Horses have been running on dirt and grass for eons. That said, it's worth looking into. Human athletes fare better on modern running surfaces, having run on dirt for ages, perhaps horses would too...
3) Cap the number of times a horse races each year. Indeed. In pursuit of the almighty dollar horses are run far more than they should be. True these are highly trained athletes, but even the best athletes need a rest. In the same vein, winning mares who have been retired from racing should also have a cap on the number of foals they are expected to produce in a 5-year period.
4) Ban whipping. PETA says that when jockeys flail horses with a riding crop the animals can be forced beyond their physical limits. I don't agree with this one. Riding crops are not designed to hurt the horses, more to make a popping noise to get their attention. That said, horses are smart. No amount of whipping is going to get a horse to do something he or she doesn't want to - I've seen horses reach around and bite their rider's leg rather than respond to unreasonable whipping. Perhaps there should be a ban on excessive whipping, but the occasional pop can be necessary to get a horse to focus. Eight Belles ran on her broken legs because running was in her blood. The only thing that might have stopped her is if the jockey felt she was off and forced her to pull up. And it's questionable if she would have let him do that. A horse who loves to run, or who is competitive will run herself into the ground of his or her own free will if he or she loves the sport and his rider doesn't know enough to pull him up. That said, Eight Belle's jockey should have felt she was off - if I could feel when my horse had so much as a pebble in her hoof, he should have felt her faltering when her legs broke.
The group also wants Eight Belles jockey Saez questioned.
"What we really want to know, did he feel anything along the way?" PETA spokeswoman Kathy Guillermo said. "If he didn't, then we can probably blame the fact that they're allowed to whip the horses mercilessly." If he didn't it's probably because he only rode Eight Belles when she was running. Her exercise rider is the one who spent the most time on her back, and is the one who would have been better attuned to nuances in her stride.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Ghost of Ruffian
Eight Belles could have - should have - had a long and brilliant career followed by several years of foaling out award-winning babies. Instead, she, like the filly Ruffian before her, lies dead on the infield after a beautiful, glorious, and ultimately tragic run for the roses. She is just the latest victim in a long line of great horses with lives and careers cut short by American racing standards. Remember Barbaro?
American races begin at two years old. This means that most American racehorses are under saddle and in training by the time they are 18 months. Horses are not fully matured until they reach 4,5 or even 6 years old. At 18 months they should be out to pasture just learning how to be a horse, perhaps being taught basic ground manners and farrier etiquette - not under saddle performing grueling workouts. The result of this schedule, as proved by Barbaro and Eight Belles, and Ruffian, are fragile growing legs shattering under incredible stress.
I had a pony once who had foundered before I got her. Foundering, or laminitis, is an inflammation of the connective tissue in the hoof. When a spell passes, some of that connective tissue dies, resulting in a tendency for the coffin bone - the central bone of the hoof - to rotate downward causing extreme pain and lameness. It also make the horse prone to repeated bouts of the disease, and consequently repeated damage. This rotation can be kept at bay with corrective shoeing and extreme hoof trimming, but often (as in the case of my pony and Barbaro) ultimately results in the horse being put down.
Because my pony was under near constant vet and farrier care trying to combat her laminitis, I got to learn quite a bit about the inner workings of horses' feet and legs. One farrier carried with him in his truck the coffin bone and lower leg bones of a racehorse put down at just four years old. The coffin bone was riddled with tiny holes, and the leg bones striated with stress marks. Compare this then, with the coffin bone and lower leg bones of a pony who died of old age at 32, hoof and leg bones still sturdy and smooth.
It is unfair and dangerous to both horse and rider to demand so much of what are ultimately, still babies. Horse racing is a grand sport - I don't object to racing per se. I object to horses being run to the ground before they have even had a chance to grow up. The average age of Olympic sport horses is 8-12; what makes racing stables believe that their colts and fillies are at the peak of their game when most of their energy should simply be put into growing up? I object to racing, because when they are started so young, so many fine horses wind up being auctioned off for meat before their eighth birthdays, when they should be just hitting the peak of their game. I object to racing for all the horses sold carelessly, lost easily in claiming stakes, and sent to questionable homes because they just aren't quite fast enough. So much in the industry is inhumane, in large part because it is just that -an industry - where chasing profit trumps the well-being of the lives in its care - both equine and human.
That said, I don't think racing should end, just be dramatically modified. In England, colts and fillies do not run until they are 4 or 5, giving them an extra year to grow and get strong. As a result, English tracks see far fewer injuries and deaths of horses and jockeys. Most racehorses have running in their blood. They run because it is what they must do. No great racehorse has ever been borne on speed alone. He or she must have the heart to charge forward into the scrum, to keep running when his heart is pounding and his nostrils flare with the effort. He must have the joy of speed, to love the feel of his hooves flying over the turf.
Eight Belles had that, and more. She stumbled in the first turn. It is believed that that was the moment her legs cracked. She went on to battle her way forward, only falling back after the last turn, and even then maintaining her second-place position behind one of the finest colts of her generation. This filly, a long shot both by virtue of both her sex and colour (the last filly to win was in 1988, and grey horses almost never win the Derby), ran the race of her life on two broken legs. She ran on heart alone. As soon as the race was finished she literally collapsed, unable even to stand. The equine ambulance was brought, but, perhaps with the memory of Barbaro's fight still fresh in their minds, the decision - and I believe the only humane decision - was made to put Eight Belles down. Thus the equine world lost what could and should have, been one of its shining lights, and the potential mother of a long line of winning babies.
Big Brown ran a great race. He deserves all the accolades coming to him, and I believe he can take the Triple crown. But this was Eight Belles' race. She proved some of what I love most about horses - their grace, their strength, and above all, their heart. I hope her death, following so closely on the heels of Barbaro's inspires necessary changes in the racing industry. I hope that Big Brown does not break down in what will certainly be a gruelling next few years. I hope that when the time comes, he is granted the years in green pastures and progeny that were denied his compatriot and so many other promising young horses. Above all I hope Eight Belles is remembered. She may not have won the Derby, but she proved, over and above any reason, her greatness.
American races begin at two years old. This means that most American racehorses are under saddle and in training by the time they are 18 months. Horses are not fully matured until they reach 4,5 or even 6 years old. At 18 months they should be out to pasture just learning how to be a horse, perhaps being taught basic ground manners and farrier etiquette - not under saddle performing grueling workouts. The result of this schedule, as proved by Barbaro and Eight Belles, and Ruffian, are fragile growing legs shattering under incredible stress.
I had a pony once who had foundered before I got her. Foundering, or laminitis, is an inflammation of the connective tissue in the hoof. When a spell passes, some of that connective tissue dies, resulting in a tendency for the coffin bone - the central bone of the hoof - to rotate downward causing extreme pain and lameness. It also make the horse prone to repeated bouts of the disease, and consequently repeated damage. This rotation can be kept at bay with corrective shoeing and extreme hoof trimming, but often (as in the case of my pony and Barbaro) ultimately results in the horse being put down.
Because my pony was under near constant vet and farrier care trying to combat her laminitis, I got to learn quite a bit about the inner workings of horses' feet and legs. One farrier carried with him in his truck the coffin bone and lower leg bones of a racehorse put down at just four years old. The coffin bone was riddled with tiny holes, and the leg bones striated with stress marks. Compare this then, with the coffin bone and lower leg bones of a pony who died of old age at 32, hoof and leg bones still sturdy and smooth.
It is unfair and dangerous to both horse and rider to demand so much of what are ultimately, still babies. Horse racing is a grand sport - I don't object to racing per se. I object to horses being run to the ground before they have even had a chance to grow up. The average age of Olympic sport horses is 8-12; what makes racing stables believe that their colts and fillies are at the peak of their game when most of their energy should simply be put into growing up? I object to racing, because when they are started so young, so many fine horses wind up being auctioned off for meat before their eighth birthdays, when they should be just hitting the peak of their game. I object to racing for all the horses sold carelessly, lost easily in claiming stakes, and sent to questionable homes because they just aren't quite fast enough. So much in the industry is inhumane, in large part because it is just that -an industry - where chasing profit trumps the well-being of the lives in its care - both equine and human.
That said, I don't think racing should end, just be dramatically modified. In England, colts and fillies do not run until they are 4 or 5, giving them an extra year to grow and get strong. As a result, English tracks see far fewer injuries and deaths of horses and jockeys. Most racehorses have running in their blood. They run because it is what they must do. No great racehorse has ever been borne on speed alone. He or she must have the heart to charge forward into the scrum, to keep running when his heart is pounding and his nostrils flare with the effort. He must have the joy of speed, to love the feel of his hooves flying over the turf.
Eight Belles had that, and more. She stumbled in the first turn. It is believed that that was the moment her legs cracked. She went on to battle her way forward, only falling back after the last turn, and even then maintaining her second-place position behind one of the finest colts of her generation. This filly, a long shot both by virtue of both her sex and colour (the last filly to win was in 1988, and grey horses almost never win the Derby), ran the race of her life on two broken legs. She ran on heart alone. As soon as the race was finished she literally collapsed, unable even to stand. The equine ambulance was brought, but, perhaps with the memory of Barbaro's fight still fresh in their minds, the decision - and I believe the only humane decision - was made to put Eight Belles down. Thus the equine world lost what could and should have, been one of its shining lights, and the potential mother of a long line of winning babies.
Big Brown ran a great race. He deserves all the accolades coming to him, and I believe he can take the Triple crown. But this was Eight Belles' race. She proved some of what I love most about horses - their grace, their strength, and above all, their heart. I hope her death, following so closely on the heels of Barbaro's inspires necessary changes in the racing industry. I hope that Big Brown does not break down in what will certainly be a gruelling next few years. I hope that when the time comes, he is granted the years in green pastures and progeny that were denied his compatriot and so many other promising young horses. Above all I hope Eight Belles is remembered. She may not have won the Derby, but she proved, over and above any reason, her greatness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)