tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61388213265099399692024-03-13T03:12:34.706-07:00Sweet Millionfor days that seem like dreams are often the sweetest reality...Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.comBlogger280125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-40024265974953933552010-10-14T13:09:00.000-07:002010-10-14T13:10:06.048-07:00TeaI am becoming so tired of these self-searching questions, the interior focus of youth and boredom. Perhaps it is because I have hit a rock and see these questions as unanswerable for the time being and the pressing forward on the boulder is exhausting. Why is a search for passion so important? Why do I feel these questions following me around like lost puppies long after I have left them at the corner and told them to stay? <br /><br />The search for our passions, maybe, is the search for the motivator, the self’s Prime Mover, our own personal God-of-the-small-life. We must see those that have identified their passion as somehow more peaceful and happier, that our seeking will be rewarded in an earthly heaven. But maybe it is because we see those that have identified their passion as productive, as somehow fundamentally more effective in their living, contributing instead of wandering. Maybe this search for my passion is haunting me now because I feel so useless, a drain on the social machine. The one answer I am so tired of searching for may be clarifying the one question I have yet to ask. Clearly it is not here yet. <br /><br /><br />I watched a movie today, entitled “All in This Tea” produced by flower films. It documents the beginning of the importation of organic tea from China by David Lee Hoffman in the early 1990’s. There is much talk of the ‘experience’ of drinking tea and of all the memories and tastes it recalls. Just a simple reminder to value simplicity.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-80049519292881666702010-10-08T13:14:00.002-07:002010-10-08T13:15:06.050-07:00Land Boat Press ReleaseWhat is Land Boat? <br /><br />Land Boat is a writer/photographer team from Maryland on a Westward quest to find the American Dream. Matt Crooks and Annelies de Groot grew up on the water and are taking their live aboard knowledge to the road in a restored vintage travel trailer. They are spending at least the beginning of 2011 searching for the history, source and modern remodels of the classic American Dream theory.<br /><br />The Trailer<br /><br />The actual Land Boat is a 1973 Yellowstone travel trailer, 17 feet in length and several months in remodel. Matt and Annelies have documented the restoration on their blog at landboat.com. The interior has been restored and painted with a minimalist aesthetic and a boater’s needs, with a table that can be lowered into a second bed for visitors, bolted appliances, storage in every angle and no more aboard than necessary. <br /><br />The People<br /><br />Matt Crooks is a 2006 graduate of the Hallmark School of Photography. His style is pointed and active. His photos show you the inner focus of the skier mid-air, the childlike joy of the snowboarder at the peak of the pipe, and the deep creative attention of the woodworker. Matt knows how things work. He improves his environment with anything available, a creative knowledge he was born with and developed through taking everything apart. His varied jobs at a bronze foundry, a wooden boat shop, a mountain resort and in construction have taken this knowledge of functionality and focused it in on formation. He knows not only how something functions but what these functions can become. Matt’s skills in hacking objects, in pinpointing the usefulness of things, come from a deep awareness of an object’s potential and its components. This viewpoint of improvement and motion lend his photography an arresting dichotomy of intense peace among chaos, highlighting the one critical moment of stillness. The arena becomes a disaster zone, the winter beach a canvas for the surfer, and the a routine trick transforms into a performance in Matt’s photos. You can see his work at crooksphotography.com<br /><br />Annelies de Groot has a BA in Liberal Arts from St. John’s College in Annapolis, MD. This great books, seminar style education has infused her writing with an institution of linear progress, researched background and depth in simplicity. Work in educational and environmental nonprofits, international law, health industry and sail making edge the intellectual academic mindset with a practical and experiential focus. Annelies’ successful writing history includes green living articles in local papers, grant awards for nonprofits, website and textbook content, speeches and health advice columns. <br /><br />The Trip<br /><br />Starting out from Maryland on the first week of January, Land Boat will head West. The rough plan reads counter clockwise around the country, chasing the winter. Hopping from family member to friend to campsite, Matt and Annelies will live out of the trailer and live in to their unexplored horizons of mountains, prairies and coastlines. Matt has taken several cross country road trips previously, but Annelies has little on-the-road experience. They will take turns pointing out to each other their favorite locations on the continent while visiting pertinent settings for the American Dream. <br /><br />The Theory <br /><br />The term “the American Dream” is a relatively new one, coined in1932. It refers to the dream of a citizen to work hard and provide a house and an opportunity to his children. However, the foundations of this concept are rooted long before the Great Depression. In fact, the entire nation is founded on these principles of freedom for change and a fight for financial stability. Combined with the romantic Western movement new iterations of those fundamental principles can be seen again and again. Colonists, Frontiersman, Gold Rushers, Hippies, the Tech Savvy, all have made their way to the sunset for another chance to live their life the way they want to. But has this changed? The new media claims the “American Dream” is dead. Is this simply because this recession has highlighted our inability to achieve financial stability? Is it because the “dream” of owning a house is now farther away than ever for most? <br /><br />The new wave of organic, health-focused, minimalist lifestyles rings true to Matt and Annelies both in their values and in their quest for understanding the American Dream. Perhaps having lost sight of financial stability and social freedom in favor of excess and correctness our nation is fighting back. What do you think? Over the course of the trip the pair will be interviewing a series of people including those who have deeply inspired them with their well-known success and those who are deeply inspiring them with their quiet every day victories. A series of photo essays and analytical articles will appear on the Land Boat blog to illustrate with whom and where the American Dream is found. <br /><br />Please send us an e-mail if you are interested in Land Boat. Send us your questions and suggestions to matt@landboat.com or annelies@landboat.comAnnelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-82595659344879092932010-10-08T13:14:00.001-07:002010-10-08T13:14:46.291-07:00PassionI have a friend, in her late fifties, who has recently stumbled upon the conundrum of passion. Realizing that while there are many things she excels at, and much she enjoys doing, there is nothing that she could drop everything to pursue full time. She has a career, which blossomed out of a job, which she does not love. <br /><br />I have read quite a few life-hacking books that teach you how to maximize your results and enjoy life, essentially. They all explain how to make a living off of your passion. However, nobody has yet told me how to find my passion in the first place. A few of them suggest exercises, such as “make a list of everything you have ever been good at or enjoyed doing in your life, including when you were a child”, or “think about what you would do if you could do anything in the world”. Neither is helpful. I too am still passionless. <br /><br />Or am I? How can I find my passion if I am still unclear as to what it is. I am told that passion is the one thing you would do above all else. Well, that makes those tips above even more redundant – how can I find the one thing I would do above all else if the way to find it is to think of that thing? Circular logic, this. Must I be talented at my passion? Is it truly a passion if I cannot recognize it? I am also told that it is the one activity that makes you happiest when doing it. Well, then I must not need to be very good at it as most things I really enjoy doing I am not that skilled at. So how am I supposed to make money off of doing something I am not very good at? <br /><br />What’s the importance of finding your passion anyway? Why is it so heartbreaking that, at fifty-something, my friend cannot recognize hers? Perhaps we feel true belonging not to a loved one or any result, but to the activity of passion. We are truly one with ourselves when exercising this activity, when performing in these great strides of humanity.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-26703292454622216962010-10-08T09:40:00.001-07:002010-10-08T09:40:43.033-07:00Land BoatWebsite changed:<br /><br />Landboat.com/blog<br />and <br />Landboat.com<br /><br />Visit for recent updates!Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-17179657612832858252010-10-08T09:35:00.001-07:002010-10-08T09:35:33.854-07:00October 5, 2010<br />A few weeks ago I made friends with a bartender at a slow cocktail bar in a bowling alley. He mixed me a great martini and we chatted about school, careers, psychology. This led to a chat about our alcoholic fathers, our siblings – his sister is starting up a clinic for kids like my brother. We chatted about the work I was doing, the book I was writing, the trip I was taking. <br /><br />I ran into him again tonight and we began the same chat until I used one different word. The “I “of my adventures became a “we” and the addition of one person somehow made his gaze unnecessary – to him solely of course. Funny how after adding one to “I” to create “we”, I am left alone – somehow the plurality of self can be the least welcoming and therefore the loneliest math. There was no untruth to “I”. There is greater truth in “we”.<br /><br />I wrote a how-to article on the year long care of poinsettia plants, which need fourteen hours of cool darkness for seven weeks in order to bloom its bright red flowers. This somehow proves the theory that children spend much more time at home; grow closer to their parents, just before growing up and changing measurable amount. Perhaps we all need darkness, and cool, to flower.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-27552758453995339732010-09-11T13:06:00.001-07:002010-09-11T13:13:11.558-07:00Entering this centuryI have recently entered the 21st century - and by recently I mean today.<br /><br />Let me explain. I have been using for the past six years the same apple powerbook, which I am terribly attached to. The thing is like an old dog - slow and loyal and been with me through it all. However it is an old dog with alzhiemer's. It has started to delete its own files and the memory size - I kid you not - is the same size as my ipod. Along with this old retriever my telephone is a four year old, much dropped, no longer produced machine whose power charger stopped working this morning. My plan was to upgrade the phone when my contract expired - in three weeks. NO WAY am I paying $30 for a charger for an old phone I no longer want.<br /><br />Lately I have been making some side money freelance writing. I do this while I am at work and there is nothing left to do, so its all been pretty entertaining. However I cannot type documents on my ancient apple.<br /><br />So I find myself right now sitting in front of the naptown whole foods, typing this post on a brand new tiny internet machine netbook, with a brand new tiny smart phone with the label "palm" and a touch screen that acts like an iphone sitting next to me. I can receive picture messages! I can write documents on a computer! I can sit and use the computer for more than ten minutes without recharging! I can interact with people as if its - dear lord - two thousand and ten years after the new era! <br /><br />ZZZZomg right? <br /><br />On another note - i'm out of shape. getting back into it's a bitch. gotta love those tight zippers on new identities!Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-69997426705500623992010-09-11T12:31:00.000-07:002010-09-11T12:32:42.039-07:00Land BoatFriends - new website<br /><br />www.landboat.com<br /><br />and new blog<br /><br />www.landboatblog.blogspot.com<br /><br />Follow the adventure! <br /><br />xxoxAnnelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-11029537341179724862010-09-01T13:31:00.000-07:002010-09-01T13:35:42.544-07:00World VacationDear World,<br />I have taken a vacation from you. It is not over. Unfortunately, this does not mean that I get to sit poolside with a drink and re-charge. In fact, I spend my days in front of a screen more than ever. Having read the internet entirely, I am now seeking advice from my brother about entertainment online, which has led me to a variety of terribly addictive and carpal-tunnel inducing games. I am completely caught up on all available shows and have not moved in a productive way in weeks. That's not true. I went for a walk with a friend last week. <br /><br />The boyfriend is off on the other coast for a while so my impetus for finding interesting things to talk about has waned. I am desperately seeking motivation to work out, as I do believe my doctor is about to prescribe weight loss. Between she and my dentist I am not allowed any fun at all - no booze, no fags, no sugar, no salt and more veggies and fruit and more exercise. Boring.<br /><br />That being said, I am clearly taking a break. Bare with me. I am acquiring devices to re-engage with life as we speak.<br />Thanks or whatever,<br />AnneliesAnnelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-58050773912987815632010-08-19T10:32:00.001-07:002010-08-19T10:32:26.318-07:00ReconstructionI have heard it said that “If you do not stand for something, you fall for everything.”<br /><br />Last night I had a dream where I was sitting on a rug, presumably babysitting some small children. In front of me was a group of plastic toys, all broken. I was taking them apart, piece by piece, and it was utterly imperative that I handle and feel each plastic primary-colored piece. <br /><br />My mother said on the ride to work this morning that perhaps this is because I am handling my life exactly how I handled those broken toys. I have separate parts of my life that are each not whole, not fully planned. And each plan, each possibility I take apart piece by piece and feel it out – the rough edges, the smooth surfaces, the weight and how it fits into the rest of the plan. <br /><br />I read this article today by Kelly Grey: http://www.elephantjournal.com/2010/08/the-downside-to-down-dog-by-kelly-grey/ that ends with the questions ‘ “ “What is yoga?” I believe the more appropriate question is what is your heart? Your voice? Your essence? What is your love, your deepest most personal truth?’. The article makes the point that anything you follow is nothing at all unless it is the answer to those questions. <br /><br />I know nothing of what my life is. I know I am bored at this job. I know I am in love. I know I enjoy my family’s company and that when I am bored I struggle with exercise. The date of departure rests in the first week of January. Denver bound we will leave in our 17’ 1976 Yellowstone Trailer (purchased last week in a campground in Pennsylvania). There is more room in there than my junior year dorm room. As this adventure moves closer with the ending of summer I am pulling the plastic pieces apart, trying to find what I stand for, looking for my voice, my essence, my love and personal truth. Which piece keeps these treasures? Or, better question, which toy that I deconstruct keeps them? <br /><br />I feel that when I put the pieces back together they will form some strange toy. Like how my brother put Ken doll pieces on my Barbies, or like interchangeable transformer parts. I can see robot legs on a plastic pick-up truck in my future. Not one path to follow. No perfect toy that must be kept on the shelf. A reconstructed future.<br /><br />Maybe I was studying the pieces so intently so that I knew how to fit my favorite ones together again. Whatever it is I learn to stand for, I’ll stand with two different legs.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-31531970590122264112010-08-08T20:56:00.000-07:002010-08-08T21:01:46.379-07:00Dog Days.. the dog days of summer traditionally refer to what I associate with late evenings on concrete porch steps, creating shapes out of fallen ginko leaves and eating popsicles with lemonade and listening to olsen twins on tape with grass stanes on my knees.<br /><br />this weekend was kind of like that - long walks and brunches with the puppy, G&T's while measuring the boat for a later-than-now boat cover, miles-long walks across downtown that leave us with sunburned noses loud enough for the neighbors to comment, and legs so mosquito bitten we choose to wear sweat pants to lounge outside.<br /><br /><br />august is hear my friends, and it is time to make plans for our future year. As for me - I know where I will find my A+ and it comes in the form of ingenious Great American Road Trip planning. The map is in place. The vehicle is being secured. The memories, if any bolder than life right now, are immaculate.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-82242956994275360272010-08-06T07:33:00.001-07:002010-08-08T21:12:40.804-07:00DC, You Make Me HorribleAlong the same lines as my last post, DC has made me a horrible person. Not only do I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to convince myself that what I am doing right now in life is justified, as opposed to using that energy to say, oh do something fun, Washington DC has made me terribly judgmental. There is a marked difference in my demeanor since moving back here a little over a year ago. I am wound much tighter, to be sure, but there is something about the city that breeds judgment. <br /><br />I have always believed that judging people is a primary reason for why, as some people say, the world craps on you. If we were all more accepting, then we would be much happier, and have a lot more friends. Judging other people does absolutely nothing but bring that negativity into your own countenance and emotional landscape. I was never a judgmental child – I was the one who befriended the outcast and could never understand what people did not like about them. <br /><br />But, as stated, DC is a Type A Town, and as I fought to maintain satisfaction with my Type D goals, a bit of the world crept in. High school is a more discriminate time, and my high school was a particular school. All-girls, Catholic, and wealthy, if anybody was not quite as feminine, or athletic, or wealthy, or even Catholic, you were just wrong. Somehow, by being judged, it made it okay for me to judge others. And somehow, by being judged, I felt like I should be doing such to others to find what little was left of my own self esteem.<br /><br />Not that that is okay at all, in any way. And Annapolis made it a lot better. There is a lot less judging on appearances at St. John’s – which is the judging I was used to. But unfortunately, a lot more quickfire opinions – which I was not used to. This judging of opinions lowered my intellectual self esteem to a stupid degree that I apparently still struggle with. But it did help me lose some of the DC appearance judgment. So I became a St. John’s grad, living in Annapolis- I had learned not to judge either on opinion or on appearance. <br /><br />And then I moved back to DC. And here I am a year later, finding myself judging others on their appearances again. This judgment includes judging myself just as harshly, though, and that is not pleasant. And I of course judge others on opinions as well because it is a political town and judgment flows in the streets like water. My judging found itself at a place where I was judging someone else who was judging someone else yesterday at the corner of Connecticut Ave! If I have any hope of redeeming myself – and liking anybody ever again (including myself) – I think I need to leave. <br /><br />That being said, dear friends, I am friends with you because I got to know you at a time when I did not live in DC. So I have never judged you. Nor will I, because judging people I actually LIKE is useless. So live without fear of the wrath of my inane Washingtonian influence!Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-8212828176113284232010-08-05T09:24:00.000-07:002010-08-05T09:25:06.277-07:00DC - You and I need to have wordsWashington is not a terribly friendly place to grow up. It has the highest concentration of Type-A Over Achievers in, probably the world, and the money to prove it. We have wrangled ourselves up lists to one of the Most Expensive Places to Live, one of America’s Best Food Cities, and Americas Most Fit City, among many others. We love climbing ladders of any kind – political, social, financial, and editorial. If you’re not the best, you might as well be dead. <br /><br />This mindset permeates all the way through to elementary school. A student must be top of the class, best athlete, pretty, and popular, while their individual interests are rarely praised but often exploited until whatever novelty existed for the child dies in a heap of social expectation. And its not the parents necessarily, that are all to blame. The schools are at fault too, but mostly, all the other kids. We pick up some weird vibe that pushes ultra competition. It is not the moving home with mom that has made me a social failure, it’s my lack of a higher degree than Bachelor, and/or my seeming relegation to an overly simple job. I have not published a book yet. Nor have I won any races. I am not Top Anything. Yet.<br /><br />However, I was a Type D personality growing up. It is little known, and here is a description:- The typical "D" personality doesn't like change, preferring instead, to have a set of guidelines from which to follow and they won't mind doing the same thing over and over. They are usually more motivated by security and benefits and are likely to get the "gold watch" if the company can provide the security they seek. "D" types are very supportive of others and are often the type that others turn to when they have a problem. Their compassion level is usually quite high and often seem very happy and content with themselves and life in general. They are usually punctual, and consistent. They add "balance" and support in the workplace and may be the champion of the "under dog". - Type A is opposite to Type D. I was constantly fighting the world around me telling me to push to be the center, the controller, to embrace change and adventure, when all I needed was stability and support. I was loyal and steady and consistent, and all the world wants is for me to be exciting and exceedingly excellent. <br />It seems however that this is changing as I grow up. I am embracing more of the Type-A ideals as parts of the adult world require me to be satisfied with my supporting role and just have a family and be happy goddammit. <br /><br />Sometimes the Type A mindset gets to me. I start to read into all the success around me as the polar opposite of my current life. The rewards that others are reaping elude me and therefore I have completely failed at life. And then I come up on article after article about the merits of napping, family time, gardening, cooking food, sleeping in, taking days off, and wandering aimlessly. I can read these and say “hey – I’m doing that!”. This is the world reminding me that there IS a middle ground. I may not be in a high-intensity law program, but I am learning quite a lot about social law. I may not be earning mega-bucks, but I am learning how to save. I am not running around the globe competing in super marathons, but I have long delicious walks with my boyfriend and really wonderful drives to work with my mother. I am doing just what everyone says they wish they had done when they are old and almost dead – spending time with my family, living slowly. <br /><br />This is a theme that occurs often here – how I struggle to mitigate the feelings that I am wasting my days with the knowledge that here is where the world put me. I keep feeling that very little exciting happens in my life, but the past two months of weekends have included this: a long trip to the Outer Banks, the largest free arts festival on the east coast, visits to several museums, 5 mile walks, dinners with friends, planning galore, farming, surprises, and lots of joy. What is not exciting about that?! Thanks for bearing with me as I struggle to balance my life.<br /><br />Who knows, DC and I may just have to break up.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-58683985558194843732010-08-05T08:57:00.001-07:002010-08-05T08:57:20.516-07:00Back to school?August has come in with muggy heat and bright loud storms. The same energy accompanies it that it always has; although I am no longer in school, I feel myself preparing for the change and resolutions that September brings. <br /><br />Yesterday I made all the wrong turns, I gave all the wrong answers. I went down the wrong streets on my way to work. I said the wrong words when speaking with my boss. I wrote the wrong numbers. I was seemingly stuck, and it seemed I had been this way all summer. An exercise slump has followed me through July, and the slow creep of despondence has found its way into my world, fueled by stories of ultra-marathoners, hugely successful former classmates, wandering friends, proposals, goals, and great successful smiles. My world, compared to the fast moving people I am surrounded by, seemed to be stuck in the remedial classes, getting lost. I wanted to be skipping a grade.<br /><br />While all this has been going on, I have the strange need to take inventory. I used to count out all the colored pencils, the blank notebooks, the backpacks and pens, and see what I needed to start the year fresh. I still love the smells and aisles of Staples, Office Depot, the Container Store – all huge spaces dedicated to a neat and hopeful future. The process of school supply shopping promised I would do better, because I was outfitting myself for success. I have been doing this with my wardrobe – if I wear professional and successful clothing, perhaps the satisfaction of a full career will come too? None of these thoughts are grounded by logic, but by a students’ hope of re-dedication and a new perspective.<br /><br />And then somewhere in my yesterday I was hit with this thought, that perhaps I have been so frustrated with my summer’s laziness because I have not accepted its natural “vacation” state. There is a reason schools let out for a while, in the thick heat when your sweat is an extra layer of clothing. I may not be in school anymore, but my summer is not meant to be productive, to meet goals beyond reading new books and making dioramas, or sipping cocktails in a hot tub at sunset.<br /><br /> Autumn is my time instead, where I decide to dream big and gather my moxy to push forward with new hope. Last fall I decided to train for a marathon. I tackled a few very difficult questions with myself, and I succeeded. I guess it is time to spend the cool hours of morning making plans for the fall, and the last remaining sticky hot hours napping and dreaming big and relishing the last of vacation before the effort of all those right answers.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-28440761172815309522010-07-23T09:26:00.000-07:002010-07-23T09:29:21.413-07:00A Great Race ForwardThe office has been uncharacteristically busy the past few weeks. Our elderly partner, the friend of my grandfather, and a heroic peacekeeper, died last Monday (I have included his obituary at the end of this post). He worked with my boss for 37 years and rightly, there have been many visitors, and much absent-mindedness. I am cleaning out his office now, and find bottles of vodka, cigar ashtrays, buckshot for birds, and paper upon paper of recommendations written to various presidents. He is “the last of the old guard”, a remnant from an age of unsullied glory and full-hearted pursuits. I am wiping away the dust from years of gallantry and utter particularity that have settled on the surface of old oak desks and globes with hidden bars inside, and almost ironically the series premier of Mad Men airs in a few days. <br /><br />There is a buzz I feel as I am given task upon task, as I pull out piles of old files and messy boxes of errant notices. The phone rings in the middle of my sweaty cleaning, and I go back to filing only to answer the phone again. This, my friends, is what I envisioned as a child when I first became aware that I would be a great secretary – the bombardment of organizing needs, the reflexes needed to keep everything utterly and perfectly ahead of what is needed. Already hours have passed and I have not touched my blog reader. A wave of fondness for my boss crashes upon me, and I am reminded that indeed I do have potential! <br /><br />This next week will be spent vacationing – in the breezes of the North Carolina shores. A house full of twelve people, at least, a great dear friend, and several great intentions will converge upon eight or nine full days of escapism. Last year, when I went, I was nervous. The older adults (how strange to have to refer to the parents and aunts and uncles as “older adults”! Writing simply “the adults” is useless, as we are all over 20!) spoke often how all year long they waited for this one week of vacation. At the time I thought, how sad! But now I have spent a year in great anticipation and realize that it is not sad to look forward longingly at this week, but how lucky we are that it is possible! <br /><br />Today is a day that makes patience sensible. As so many around me are leaping forward deservedly into promotions and raises and great big plans, I sometimes rebuke myself for not making different choices. Not that I am unhappy, as you are all aware, but that I worry I have put to waste opportunities. But today, I can see the small changes in my life that occur before great upheaval. I can relish the pings of coins that I am saving, the strength in my legs I am earning, and the time spent with my family that I can never regret. There are choices to be made for the next few months, but none of them worth agonizing over. For now, I will race to finish my tasks so I can leave in peace and think nothing of this work for a full week. <br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Jack O'Connell, 88, dies; diplomatic adviser to Jordan's King Hussein</span><br />By T. Rees Shapiro<br />Sunday, July 18, 2010<br /><br />Jack O'Connell, 88, who as a CIA station chief in Amman, Jordan, became King Hussein's diplomatic adviser and closest American confidant, strengthening U.S. ties with the crucial Middle East ally, died of congestive heart failure July 12 at the Virginia Hospital Center in Arlington County. He was a Rosslyn resident.<br /><br />Dr. O'Connell, who was trained as a lawyer, joined the CIA in the late 1940s and served in Beirut before becoming station chief in Jordan from 1963 to 1971. Bordered by Israel, Saudi Arabia, Syria and Iraq, the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan is considered one of America's most important allies in the Middle East, in part because of its savvy intelligence service.<br /><br />Dr. O'Connell, whose time in Jordan coincided with the Arab-Israeli Six-Day War in June 1967 and the brutal expulsion of the Palestine Liberation Organization in 1970, fostered a fraternal bond with the king and was considered an adopted member of the royal family, said Richard Viets, a former U.S. ambassador to Jordan.<br /><br />A burly, blue-eyed Midwesterner of Irish descent, Dr. O'Connell had a quiet, self-effacing demeanor but was, nonetheless, among the best-known Americans in Jordan.<br /><br />In 1967, he played a key role in negotiating U.N. Security Council Resolution 242, which sought to establish peace in the Middle East after Syria, Egypt and Jordan had combined forces in the six-day conflict with Israel. Although Resolution 242 was never fully adopted, it remains the blueprint for Middle East peace agreements today.<br /><br />Jordan lost control of the West Bank to Israel in the war, and about 300,000 Palestinians from that region fled to Jordan. Many joined guerrilla groups that aligned themselves with the PLO.<br /><br />In 1970, Hussein sought to dissolve the growing power of the PLO, leading to the month-long civil war known as "Black September."<br />ad_icon<br /><br />Within two years, Dr. O'Connell had left Jordan, retired from the CIA and joined a Washington law firm that became O'Connell and Glock. He remained Hussein's personal lawyer and political adviser in Washington until the monarch's death in 1999.<br /><br />"Jack O'Connell had a closer relationship with King Hussein than any other American official before or after, one that was based on mutual respect and absolute trust," Avi Shlaim wrote in his 2007 book "Lion of Jordan: The Life of King Hussein in War and Peace."<br /><br />John William O'Connell was born Aug. 18, 1921, in Flandreau, S.D. He played defensive end at the University of Notre Dame on a football scholarship but transferred to Georgetown University after a car accident left him unable to play.<br /><br />His education was interrupted by Navy service in World War II aboard a minesweeper patrolling the smoldering remains of Nagasaki's harbor shortly after the Japanese surrender.<br /><br />In 1946, he graduated from the School of Foreign Service at Georgetown, where he received a law degree in 1948. He joined the CIA the same year and was sent to the University of the Punjab in Pakistan on a Fulbright scholarship, receiving a master's degree in Islamic law in 1952. He returned to Georgetown and received a doctorate in international law in 1958.<br /><br />One of the events that catalyzed his friendship with Hussein occurred that same year. For his first foreign CIA assignment, Dr. O'Connell was sent to Jordan to help foil a coup attempt on the 22-year-old king's throne by restive Jordanian military officers. In the course of several months, Dr. O'Connell helped unravel the plot and assist in the arrest of the rogue officers.<br /><br />During his time in Jordan, Dr. O'Connell was responsible for helping to expand the powers and capabilities of the Jordanian intelligence service with CIA funding and training. In 1977, news reports revealed that Hussein had been a paid informant for the CIA.<br /><br />In the early 1990s, Dr. O'Connell helped facilitate, through the Jordanian king, negotiations with Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein in the run-up to the Persian Gulf War. Dr. O'Connell's memoir, currently under CIA review, is scheduled to be published by W.W. Norton in 2011.<br /><br />His first wife, Katherine MacDonald O'Connell, died in 1972. He later married Syble McKenzie O'Connell, who died in 1990. An infant child from his first marriage, Mary Frances O'Connell, died in 1949.<br /><br />Survivors include two children from his first marriage, Kelly Ann O'Connell of Annandale and Sean O'Connell of Fairfax County; and a grandson.<br /><br />One day in the 1990s, Dr. O'Connell and Viets were walking out of the Jordanian Foreign Ministry when the former defensive end tripped and fell down a steep flight of steps and broke his leg.<br /><br />On the suggestion that he seek medical attention, Dr. O'Connell replied: "Irishmen don't wear casts."<br /><br />Instead, he used a cane and walked on the broken leg until it healed.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-24388205621541376382010-07-07T10:57:00.001-07:002010-07-07T10:59:59.095-07:00Idea #2I'm intrigued by food bloggers.<br />I'm thinking of starting an experiment where I food blog for a week. <br />This came to my mind because my salad was just so pretty today and there are so many people that go around their lives taking pictures of everything they eat. I kind of want pictures of the beautiful things I eat to share with you sometimes. <br /><br />Weird? <br />Don't worry - there is absolutely ZERO chance this would be permanent. My attention span/interest/level of caring is just not there. Not even close.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-55832857635300543302010-07-07T10:38:00.000-07:002010-07-07T10:57:19.724-07:00Guiltfree and Long LivedMy muse inspired this. I'm sorry it's a bit long.<br />Here is a link to a post and comments on a different blog regarding the same topic, but differently: http://runningnina.onsugar.com/When-Working-Out-Doesnt-Work-Out-8914572.<br /><br />Sometimes, workouts don't happen. And by sometimes, I mean quite a lot. Periods of "fail workouts" or just plain don't make it to the gym days come and go in waves for me- some weeks I hit the pavement every day, other weeks I can't seem to make it out of the door once, needless to say pick up a weight or roll out my mat. <br /><br />These weeks when I don't workout suck. They make me feel like a total failure and a total fatty and this stress contributes to not getting out again. Until finally I push myself through a full two miles or whatever and get my mojo back. And sometimes I eat(i mean drink) so much I might not as well have run 7 miles at all! <br /><br />This leads to exercise guilt. Guilt over not being badass enough (we are familiar with this), guilt over being normal. <br />I have a hard time, as we know, NOT being badass, NOT being the girl who gets out the door for hours a day. What does this do? Stresses me out. Stress makes me anxious. And anxiety increases blood pressure, thus contributing to the degeneration of my well-being. Basically, worrying about not being healthy enough reduces my overall health. <br /><br /> This is often linked to the distinctive thought pattern that "if only I ran more, I would look like Dara Torres". And that's supposed to make my life better? HOW?! HOW does looking like an Olympic Athlete improve ANYTHING in my life? Answer: it doesn't. My life will not get easier with ripped muscles. While losing a few pounds will improve my life a little bit, spending all of my free time lugging giant weights around so I can have visible splits in my calf muscles actually WASTES my time and certainly will not improve any of my relationships. <br /><br /><br /><br />But today I am resolving to change my concept of WHY I workout. The more I read, the more modern exercise science (yes, I know, which is terribly young) claims that exercise has a different purpose than losing weight. What I find interesting is that it wasn't until the past few decades that we even realized that moving a particular amount/more would contribute to smaller bodies, or even cared. Previously, weight loss was all about food. Exercise was about work. <br /><br />And apparently, that is still the case. Weight loss is still mostly about food. Truth be told that it is a lot easier to cut out soda and candy from your diet, thus cutting a few hundred calories a day, than to go to the gym for an hour. While both work, changing your food is a lot easier than changing your other habits. Apart from that, new studies show that exercise, while a great contributor to overall health, often increases appetite, becoming also a great contributor to weight gain. <br /><br />How funny! <br /><br />But aerobic exercise, stretching, and weight bearing moving are clearly still great for a host of other things besides weight loss. <br /><br />Here is a short list of things exercise improves: stamina in bed, mobility, comfort in heat, energy levels, overall happiness due to increased hormones, the length of your life, diet (apparently, the more you work out the better you want to eat - science!), intelligence (from a newly figured out protein named Noggin), memory, time management. <br /><br />Here is a short list of things exercise prevents: bone loss, heart disease, depression, anxiety, broken bones, sleep loss, obesity, diabetes, pain from aging, pain from normal movement, muscle and ligament tears from day to day activities.<br /><br />So, I decided that I am going to remind myself that I workout so I can enjoy and remember my grandkids' graduations, and so I can play with Sam & Hannah on the weekends, and take Lucy for walks in the summer heat, and raise the mainsail, and carry groceries, and hike Mt. Washington and Macchu Piccu. <br /><br />And maybe also so I can have that martini at happy hour.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-42634874563629081822010-07-07T10:26:00.000-07:002010-07-07T10:28:56.773-07:00IdeaGuys <br />What do you think about this idea - <br />Its been on my mind for a while and I'm basically obsessed.<br />We all love micro-brews right (duh)? <br />What about micro-distilling? Smaller, craft bourbons and vodkas with finely tuned flavors and infusions? <br /><br />I basically want this to be my career. Can't you see it - de Groot brand Bourbon?Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-19931143521196194562010-07-07T08:40:00.000-07:002010-07-07T08:52:29.841-07:00Optimist PostToday is one of those days where I am not, surprisingly, OVERWHELMED with how many options there are in the healthy-food arena (so many salads! so many smoothie options! sauteed green everything! fruit with so many protein options! nuts! grains!), or how you really have to work out about 3 hours a day or more to incorporate all the options and more or less 'necessary' workouts into your week (think about it: circuits, weight-bearing, yoga, interval, hill, long runs, speedwork, plyometrics, isometrics and functional - not counting the different TYPES of yoga, or weights to use, etc).<br /><br />Instead, I am utterly thrilled with the fact that I can focus now on one set, and when it becomes necessary to switch up my routine or my diet, there are a bazillion different options. Keeping things interesting and new isn't a chore because there are just so many ways to do it! <br /><br />We all know my fondness for kale, but here are a few other foods that I feel are SUPER wonderful for their intense nutrient packing and utter versatility. <br /><br />Avocado: <br />Healthy fats galore! Not just for guacamole anymore! Use instead of butter in baking, or adorn absolutely any dish with slices of it. They also work great for texture in smoothies. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDShUsPaLJI/AAAAAAAAAb8/ZnEET5Zsd0A/s1600/avocado-bsp.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 313px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDShUsPaLJI/AAAAAAAAAb8/ZnEET5Zsd0A/s320/avocado-bsp.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491191222516722834" /></a><br /><br />Coconut:<br />Also, healthy fats. Also - put flakes on cereals, puddings, soups, salads, use the virgin oil instead of butter for sauteeing or in oatmeal, whip it into a cream with a nut-milk to use in baking or instead of whipped cream! Or, just drink it. Also, great on hair and skin. And we all know how I love to use my kitchen for beauty products (mostly I'm too lazy to go to CVS, but whatevs). <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDSh43k5z3I/AAAAAAAAAcE/CJUjPMiN9rM/s1600/coconut-edit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 270px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDSh43k5z3I/AAAAAAAAAcE/CJUjPMiN9rM/s320/coconut-edit.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491191844034957170" /></a><br /><br />Quinoa:<br />A complete protein in itself (which means they also have a complete set of amino acids along with the protein, as opposed to, say, soy), this grain was used as a primary food source for and revered by the Incas (god I love them) and come in many colored varieties. They are a natural pesticide, and terribly easy to grow in the right climate. It can be used as a cereal grain for breakfast, or in salads, smoothies, or as a dish on its own with meats or other grains or veggies. LIMITLESS PROTEIN PEOPLE! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDSiqw-JugI/AAAAAAAAAcM/4xXoTvHNOWo/s1600/quinoa1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDSiqw-JugI/AAAAAAAAAcM/4xXoTvHNOWo/s320/quinoa1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491192701255268866" /></a><br /><br />Now don't you totally want me to cook you dinner?Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-91290285104028440942010-07-07T07:35:00.000-07:002010-07-07T07:38:46.733-07:00True Story<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDSQ7Qa2_-I/AAAAAAAAAb0/-vUp4IBKOPU/s1600/pillow.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDSQ7Qa2_-I/AAAAAAAAAb0/-vUp4IBKOPU/s320/pillow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491173193365782498" /></a><br /><br /><br />One night this past weekend, the boyfriend and I went to bed. Not too early, not too late, not drunk, just happy sleepy people.<br /><br />When we woke up, the pillow covers to ALL FOUR pillows had been slipped off and placed in the very middle of the pillows. To elaborate: I only use one pillow. I never touch other pillows during the night. All pillows were still in their rightful and proper places like good pillows should be. Neither of us had particularly unrestful or fitful dreams, nor do we remember anything unusual. <br /><br />The pillow cases were off, that's all.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-88654175024121699262010-07-05T18:32:00.000-07:002010-07-05T18:36:54.628-07:00She Moves!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKInHjPRCI/AAAAAAAAAbs/31JCrRkHVZ4/s1600/DSCF0074.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKInHjPRCI/AAAAAAAAAbs/31JCrRkHVZ4/s320/DSCF0074.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490601101341180962" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKIgtO-_FI/AAAAAAAAAbk/Rf_1kiD8uWI/s1600/DSCF0073.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKIgtO-_FI/AAAAAAAAAbk/Rf_1kiD8uWI/s320/DSCF0073.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490600991197690962" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKIbqLgndI/AAAAAAAAAbc/ZJzuft8Qbc4/s1600/DSCF0071.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKIbqLgndI/AAAAAAAAAbc/ZJzuft8Qbc4/s320/DSCF0071.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490600904478465490" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKIS9SH1AI/AAAAAAAAAbU/rSuZ0F8kj_E/s1600/DSCF0067.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKIS9SH1AI/AAAAAAAAAbU/rSuZ0F8kj_E/s320/DSCF0067.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490600754987652098" /></a><br />The great fantastic high point of the weekend - other than its utter awesomeness - was getting the boat going! That's right, we sailed her, and plan on working her quite hard through the following summer. The boyfriend will hate me if he sees I put these pictures up but - whatevs.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-26414470627162482902010-07-05T18:27:00.000-07:002010-07-05T18:32:25.136-07:00Beer, Bourbon, Barbecue, and Lemons<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHnllutlI/AAAAAAAAAbM/cFzqPz_bYC8/s1600/DSCF0039.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHnllutlI/AAAAAAAAAbM/cFzqPz_bYC8/s320/DSCF0039.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490600009893066322" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHgIhQocI/AAAAAAAAAbE/Glf0-Av_rUw/s1600/DSCF0042.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHgIhQocI/AAAAAAAAAbE/Glf0-Av_rUw/s320/DSCF0042.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490599881830605250" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHZDcMGgI/AAAAAAAAAa8/NdzTOEkqBQ0/s1600/DSCF0048.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHZDcMGgI/AAAAAAAAAa8/NdzTOEkqBQ0/s320/DSCF0048.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490599760208075266" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHSbw1-PI/AAAAAAAAAa0/LhG7He-bYzk/s1600/DSCF0050.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHSbw1-PI/AAAAAAAAAa0/LhG7He-bYzk/s320/DSCF0050.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490599646478072050" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHLyTZHnI/AAAAAAAAAas/gF4K0MM9CH8/s1600/DSCF0052.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHLyTZHnI/AAAAAAAAAas/gF4K0MM9CH8/s320/DSCF0052.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490599532269477490" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHERrz2wI/AAAAAAAAAak/eanOa0VtkcE/s1600/DSCF0053.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKHERrz2wI/AAAAAAAAAak/eanOa0VtkcE/s320/DSCF0053.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490599403254438658" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKG6miIvcI/AAAAAAAAAac/Oi1Ci6_wis4/s1600/DSCF0059.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKG6miIvcI/AAAAAAAAAac/Oi1Ci6_wis4/s320/DSCF0059.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490599237052317122" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKGzXgTNLI/AAAAAAAAAaU/jvZFspKGt6I/s1600/DSCF0065.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKGzXgTNLI/AAAAAAAAAaU/jvZFspKGt6I/s320/DSCF0065.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490599112758998194" /></a>Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-17989121267477295542010-07-05T18:20:00.000-07:002010-07-05T18:26:50.902-07:00Photos from my last party in Takoma park<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKGVSqvSSI/AAAAAAAAAaM/STJOAL-XBck/s1600/DSCF0032.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKGVSqvSSI/AAAAAAAAAaM/STJOAL-XBck/s320/DSCF0032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490598596064528674" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKGLzdzKcI/AAAAAAAAAaE/bMpLDnnaKwU/s1600/DSCF0029.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKGLzdzKcI/AAAAAAAAAaE/bMpLDnnaKwU/s320/DSCF0029.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490598433069935042" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKGGyzog3I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/JSzcHFdzSms/s1600/DSCF0022.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKGGyzog3I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/JSzcHFdzSms/s320/DSCF0022.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490598346993730418" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKF_S1i47I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/2cSUCRgaztI/s1600/DSCF0019.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKF_S1i47I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/2cSUCRgaztI/s320/DSCF0019.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490598218152731570" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKF4q4j3XI/AAAAAAAAAZs/telLg2j2vL0/s1600/DSCF0013.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKF4q4j3XI/AAAAAAAAAZs/telLg2j2vL0/s320/DSCF0013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490598104348745074" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKFpwoAG0I/AAAAAAAAAZc/F0LMfTcja-c/s1600/DSCF0010.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKFpwoAG0I/AAAAAAAAAZc/F0LMfTcja-c/s320/DSCF0010.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490597848191867714" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKFZhEXCXI/AAAAAAAAAZU/ipm95p6t3lA/s1600/DSCF0008.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TDKFZhEXCXI/AAAAAAAAAZU/ipm95p6t3lA/s320/DSCF0008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490597569137936754" /></a>Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-33639208760316987652010-07-02T09:02:00.000-07:002010-07-02T09:05:48.248-07:001st Weekend of JulyTomorrow, this is happening: <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC4N5sGgeaI/AAAAAAAAAY0/Tua8wAis5eA/s1600/sb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC4N5sGgeaI/AAAAAAAAAY0/Tua8wAis5eA/s320/sb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489340280553372066" /></a><br /><br />also, a bunch of this:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC4OCSc_LyI/AAAAAAAAAY8/YEbbFZzCcVU/s1600/2007_11042007bonfire0024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC4OCSc_LyI/AAAAAAAAAY8/YEbbFZzCcVU/s320/2007_11042007bonfire0024.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489340428287160098" /></a><br /><br />and damn well a bunch of this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC4OL3R519I/AAAAAAAAAZE/-tUg3eoXoNU/s1600/fireworks02.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC4OL3R519I/AAAAAAAAAZE/-tUg3eoXoNU/s320/fireworks02.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489340592791607250" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC4OSik3N1I/AAAAAAAAAZM/kdNFKSrww04/s1600/fireworks.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC4OSik3N1I/AAAAAAAAAZM/kdNFKSrww04/s320/fireworks.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489340707493066578" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />HAPPY AMERICA EVERYONE!Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-80632611853865917112010-07-02T08:59:00.001-07:002010-07-02T09:02:01.689-07:00Summer YuckThis past week I have been sick - weirdly - with a pretty absurd summer bug. <br />Note, this may or may not be actually side effects of a vaccine I got at the doctor's last week, but my mom is now sick with something similar so maybe it is an illness instead.<br /><br />Symptoms: stupid digestion - painful, and weird. Not gross, just different than my normal digestion which I pretty much have regulated down to a science. <br />and exhaustion, a my-muscles-are-all-really-heavy-and-all-i-want-to-do-is-lay-down-and-sleep-but-i'm-not-actually-sleepy exhaustion, that comes on fast for a half hour and then leaves, wherein I can rally enough energy to convince myself to do something productive like go for a run, wherein the exhaustion sets in immediately. And this is a pronounced level of tiredness that I am very much not making up or using as an excuse to not workout. Because i love having energy. And I love working out. And don't like making excuses when I don't have to.Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6138821326509939969.post-47153062756001026102010-07-02T06:41:00.000-07:002010-07-02T06:44:37.306-07:00SmoothiesI've been pretty obsessed with them lately.<br />Which is a ginormous understatement.<br />I have gotten in upset moods - truthfully - because I have not been able to have as many smoothies in one day as the recipes I dream up. Nor can I afford to stock everything I would like to use in so many smoothies. I contemplated starting a blog about smoothies, and going on a smoothie-a-day challenge to enlighten the world on their wonderful properties.<br />All that has already been done.<br />So I made this chart:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC3tH1PNSbI/AAAAAAAAAYs/53ZCldYhFjo/s1600/scan0001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQbPCGH4bwY/TC3tH1PNSbI/AAAAAAAAAYs/53ZCldYhFjo/s400/scan0001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489304239640234418" /></a>Annelieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18187432474737115089noreply@blogger.com0