La Raza

While I have not investigated many of Cambridge's late night haunts and bars, I was pretty sure that there was not a chill, loungey bar offering quality cocktails and tasty food, outfitted with comfy couches and walls, painted in deep red and white, sporting hipster-esque paintings that would not be out of place in Giant Robot or modern home stores on 3rd or Beverly in LosAngeles. Meeting some of M*'s classmates at La Raza on Friday night for a birthday celebration proved such an belief to be false.

Painting at La Raza

The selection of cocktails was impressive, and M*'s julep and my (three) caipirinhas were outstanding. Most pubs measure the alcohol that goes into a drink—I think that it's a law. However, M*'s julep, made with Makers Mark, certainly had at last two shots, and I witnessed my glass filled with far more than one shot of cachaça. When the dj went on about 9:30, I was beyond thrilled that the first track he played was one of my favorite house tunes from about six years ago: "Days Like This." Now, the rest of his set, while better than expected, was not particularly memorable—he worked in too many unimaginative standards, including at least two by Michael Jackson.

Atsushi, Johannes, M* and me

The club is downstairs, so there was no outdoor area to go and escape the smoke. But it's less than a month now to 1 July, UK smoking ban in enclosed spaces, so there won't be many more opportunities to wake up to my hair reeking of cigarette smoke. Can't wait.

Pavel, the birthday boy, and M*

M* in motion

A Blog Devoted to Passive (and not so Passive) Aggressive Post-It Messags

Saw PassiveAggressiveNotes.com on BuzzFeed and had to share.

Don't know if I agree that wiping counters is quite as critical as performing this action after certain bathroom visits.

Who knows, maybe the temptation of a delicious poptart would have broken Jesus during those 40 days in the desert.

First Farewells

Although classes for M*'s MBA program do not end until 15 June, our good friends, Michael and Tialda, left on Friday for Michael's internship in Seoul, South Korea.

Michael and Tialda, along with James and Manuela, were part of our Cambridge gaming group. We were able to fit in one more game night on Monday night. Settlers of Catan—The Expansion Edition was our game for the evening. I emerged victorious, but it was a bittersweet win, as it was the last game the six of us will play for a while

Manueal, Tialda, me, James, Michael and M*

There were pub nights and lunches this week to give them a proper send off, but my being ill precluded my attendance. I visited with them for a bit on Thursday, and it was quite sad to be saying goodbye to people you've recently formed close friendships with. It was also odd to be picking through the items they were leaving behind, as it felt as though we were benefiting from their leaving. While we are excited about the kick-ass LG rice cooker we now have, we would much rather have Michael and Tialda around. If all works out, M* and I, and hopefully James and Tialda, will be visiting them when they return home to Rotterdam in late August.

Michael, Tialda and me—final Cambridge photo

Formal Hall

One of the advantages of going to an old university like Cambridge, which is about to celebrate the 800th anniversary of its founding, is taking part in long-standing traditions. What we have found, however, is that access to such events depends on to which of the university's thirty-one colleges you belong. The college is like your home away from home—many undergraduates are required to live at their college for a year or more—where one studies, eats and socializes. The university is where you take your classes.

M* is a member of St. Edmund's College, which was only founded in the 1960s. While it is known as one of the friendlier colleges, we have spent so little time there due to its location and lack of amenities. A number of the older and wealthier colleges have amazing grounds, sports fields, gyms and social events where well known bands and djs headline. These older colleges also have elaborate formal dining halls where the head table, reserved for fellows, is raised.

M* and me

M* had been to a formal hall (dinner) once, but the dress was casual. Last Saturday evening, there was a black tie formal hall at Pembroke College arranged by and for Judge Business School students and guests. It was nice to get dressed up, and, as the program is ending soon, have the opportunity to spend time with a good portion of the MBA class.

The Judge football team's defense

The fellows were not seated at the head table until the rest of us were settled. An announcement of their impending arrival was announced along with a warning that photos were not permitted while fellows were in the room. All but one or two people obeyed—the offenders were given the evil eye by Pembroke's Catering Manager (I'm guessing his title). Once the fellows finished dining, had their departure announced and exited, the cameras were whipped out and the photo documentation of the evening continued.

Johannes, Michael, Taro, Tialda, Nicole, Maria, me, Manuela and James

Many colleges are not known for their cuisine, but I was impressed with the quality, taking into consideration that there were 150 guests. They even accommodated vegetarian, vegan, dairy-free and gluten-free diets.

Memorable Movie Review

I bought and devoured the 4 June issue of the New Yorker today. Anthony Lane's review of "Pirates of The Caribbean: At World's End" contains a sentence that made me laugh aloud and is definitely share worthy. It's also Digg worthy, so I finally registered with the "user driven social content web site" and became the first person to submit the review.

"At the climax, two vessels get their rigging entwined on the rim of a whirlpool, which sounds impressive, but give me a hot bath, an open plughole, and a pair of rubber ducks and I could have laid out the situation more efficiently." Anthony Lane, New Yorker

Of Montreal at Soul Tree

I really, really, really, really, really, really miss seeing live music. Two months ago, when I saw that Of Montreal was performing on 30 May in Cambridge, I immediately bought tickets for us and some friends. Finally the 30th arrived, and, even though I wasn't feeling well, M* and I biked over to the Soul Tree in the downtown Cambridge—this phrase makes Cambridge sound much larger than it is—and met up with Manuela, James and Jessica.

We arrived after the opening band, The Strange Death of Liberal England, but in time for The Video Nasties, self-described as,
"Video Nasties are a young London based five-piece. We write lo-fi pop songs in our shed and then we play them at gigs. We like early 90's indie, punk and 80's pop music and are inspired by 70's and 80's film and video. One day we might invite you to our shed, until then come and see us at a gig." They performed well as a band and sounded very English. They also introduced us to Soul Tree's ridiculous stage design—it is lower than the floor. The venue is quite small, which is good, but with the recessed stage, you cannot see the band even when there are only six rows of people in front of you. Of Montreal is not a particularly tall band: Even after securing a bar stool to kneel on, I still had no idea that the lead singer, Kevin Barnes, had fishnets and blue ankle boots on for his first outfit. I never did find out what shoes he was wearing when he switched into a silver lame jumpsuit.

Of Montreal at the Soul Tree, 30 May 2007 (from Flickr)

I had seen Of Montreal perform once before, at the Echoplex in Los Angeles in Jan. 2006. Both shows were infectious pop performances, although the one last night incorporated a few more subdued, less head-bopping inducing songs from the "Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?" release of this year. I don't remember any covers at the LA show, though I often forget such details, but I do recall that one of Mr Barnes' costume changes included a wedding dress. There were three covers during the Soul Tree show: "Sweet Child O'Mine" by Guns N' Roses, sung by the keyboardist and only female in the group, Dottie Alexander; "Ever Fallen in Love" by the Buzzcocks; and, during the five song (think it was five, but, once again, I forget), "Moonage Dreams" by David Bowie.

Kevin Barnes dons his technicolor muumuu and elevates himself for one song (from Flickr)

Of Montreal treated us to about 100 minutes of live music, and the audience had a chance to give back by serenading Kevin Barnes with "Happy Birthday." However, we did not oblige them with their request for us to reveal our more intimate places during the traditional birthday song.

Those Cheeky Valencians

Signs that made us stop and reach for the camera.

I Can So Relate

We buy the New Yorker about once a month, and my friend, Shawn, emails me NYer articles that she's read and thinks I'd like. I generally like the Shouts & Murmurs column, but it's a rare occasion that I reread the column or read it out loud to someone. The April 30th installment by Paul Simms, entitled "Four Short Crushes," resonated with and tickled me to just such an extent. Almost a month after I've read it, I'm still sharing it with people.

I readily admit that I often create scenarios about strangers while I'm killing time queuing or waiting for friends. Perhaps I should be contemplating current events, the performance of my investments or the direction of my career path, but it's much more natural for me to imagine the life of the person ahead of me in the post office line. A white haired, woman sending a package to Canada? She's native English but her daughter has married a Canadian, and the grandmotherly figure in front of me is sending off baby clothes for her newborn grandson and two year old granddaughter. She seems happy to be sending the package, so she must see them regularly. I decide twice a year—one visit in Canada and one in the UK.

I identified strongly with the 'Starbucks crush', for another reason as well: my frustration with people who make no attempt to get out their money (cash, credit, debit, or, deep breath, check) when they have ample time to do so and who take forever to put away their change and gather their bags, meanwhile blocking the progression of the queue. The entire column is worth a read, but the bit below is a gem.

"So silly does my impatience now seem, stuck as I am in the Starbucks line during the morning rush. But that was before I noticed you in line ahead of me.

And now that I’ve seen you—with your gossamer hair still damp from the shower, with your well-moisturized ankles strapped and buckled into high heels that make you wobble and sway like a young colt just finding her stride, with your scent of lilacs and Dial, and, most of all, with your infectious sense of calmness and serenity, which makes me wish that the world itself would stop spinning, so that gravity would cease and we two could float into the sky and kiss in the clouds, giddy with love and vertigo—

Now you’re at the register, and the dreaded moment when we part without meeting rushes toward me like a slow-motion car crash in a dream.

You’ve been at the register without saying anything for, like, fifteen seconds now, still scanning the menu board with those almond-shaped eyes that would make Nefertiti herself weep with envy.

Seriously, you’ve been to a Starbucks before, right? I mean, it seems like there are a lot of choices, but most people find a drink they like and stick with it. And order it quickly.

But maybe I’ve caught you on a day when you’ve decided to make a fresh start. To make a fresh start, to try a new drink, to walk a different way to work, to finally dump that boyfriend who doesn’t appreciate you.

O.K., even if that were the case you could have picked out your new drink while you were waiting in line, right? I mean, come on.

Well, you’ve won me back, my future Mrs. Me—by turning to me and mouthing, “Sorry,” after you finally noticed me tapping my foot, looking at my watch, and exhaling loudly. Sensitivity like that can be neither learned nor taught, and it’s a rare thing indeed. The rarest of all possible—

Jesus Christ, you’ve ordered your drink and paid; do I really have to stand here for another forty-five seconds while you repack your purse, the contents of which you’ve spilled out on the counter like you’re setting up a fucking yard sale or something?

That’s right, the bills go in the billfold, the coins go in the little coin purse, the billfold and the coin purse go back in the pocketbook—no, in a side pocket of the pocketbook, which seems to have a clasp whose design incorporates some proprietary technology that you haven’t yet mastered.

I think I hate you now.

(Duration of crush: five minutes.)"

Tiara Etiquette

My sister clipped this Miss Manners column out of the Washington Post for me soon after I moved to England. It's been on our fridge ever since. I read the question and first two paragraphs of Miss Manners' response quite often. Noticing that the newspaper doesn't seem to be wearing well, I thought it was time to scan it.

click on column to enlarge

Valencia

M* and I had a great long weekend in Valencia visiting with family, getting out on the water and seeing a little bit of the town. We were a little under the weather, so we didn't pack in as much as we could have. Luckily you can get any medication over the counter in Spain, so we were able to self-medicate and remain active. We didn't get a chance to partake of the special Valencian paella with chicken, rabbit and snails, but we did have sushi—the first time since leaving the States in September.

View from our cousin's apartment—Santiago Calatrava's City of Arts & Sciences (Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias)

M* on the tender boat with the Alinghi B boat in the background.We were able to get very close to the Alinghi boats.

I get a computerized sailing lesson from an expert at the Alinghi base club, and...

M* has the various teams' boats pointed out to him.

View from our cousin's apartment—Calatrava's Valencia Opera House (el Palau de les Arts Reina Sofía)

Orange trees in Valencia—how surprising.

One of the many food counters in the Mercado Central. This one displayed an entire pig's head.

Valencia is known for horchata—made from tigernuts versus the Latin American rice version we were used to. We found the tigernut version sweeter and quite easy to imbibe.Statues in the Iglesia de San Juan Del Hospital—Valencia's oldest church. A joint baptism and first communion were just finishing as we happened upon the church. Nice to know that this 12th century church is still in use.

The Valencian film industry—a wheel chair in place of a dolly.

Feliz Viaje!

M* and I are leaving today for Valencia, Spain to visit with my cousin, his wife and their two boys. Hopefully my two Spanish classes and M*'s Mexican swear words will get us around. The semi-finals of the America's Cup are occurring this week, so we should have lots of great photos. ¡Hasta luego mis amigos!

Coincidence?

So I sliced my thumb this morning while slicing a bagel a bagel for M*. We aren't sure if it needs stitches, so I have an appointment in a little while with a GP. While waiting, I decided to do an online crossword. The first clue: It may need stitches. The word: gash. Not a good sign.

New Uses for Magnets

Geeky Rare-Earth Magnets Repel Sharks

from Wired.com

"Since 2001, SharkDefense has been working on a chemical shark repellent. According to
Herrmann, he and Stroud were playing around with powerful rare-earth magnets in 2005, when he dropped one next to their shark research tank in Oak Ridge, New Jersey. The lemon and nurse sharks inside instantly darted to the opposite wall."

http://www.wired.com/gadgets/miscellaneous/news/2007/05/sharkmagnets

Victorious!

Finally a Settlers of Catan win! Yes, I had won a while back—but I was playing against people who had never played before. It was a solid win—reaching 10 points first by building 4 cities and two settlements. However, it was not quite as sweet as beating Eric J. Lawrence—the game warden back in my LA gaming group.

Savoring victory.
The winning board. The red cities, settlements and roads are mine.

Bovine Sunbathing

The cows just make me so happy to be here—even when their droppings create an obstacle course on the bike path.

Relaxing and catching some sun by the Cam on Coe Fen.
I was waiting for the cow on the right to jump
in the river, but eventually I had to get to work.

Out and About

M* and I are trying to fit in more social events among our school and work obligations: we know it's important to spend time with classmates and friends before some leave within the next month.

Since the weather has finally turned a bit rainy, my camera was mostly tucked away in a dry place. Here's a photoless list of what we've been up to this week.

Sat: Wagamama for an early dinner. We didn't realize that this Asian noodle restaurant ("positive eating+positive living") was part of a chain—albeit a small chain. We were on our way to Mannamexico, when we noticed Wagamama had finally opened in a second story, Regent Street location. Very few restaurants are above street level in Cambridge, although a few new ones will soon be opening nearby on Regent. Deciding to be adventurous, we sat down at one of their communal tables and enjoyed a nice meal. The menu was similar to other noodle restaurants, such as Dojo on Mill Lane. although Dojo will save you between £5-£10. However Wagamam has appealing clean lines, a high ceiling and an abundance of natural light. Also, their staff was very nice—I forgot to request non-gluten noodles with my dish, and, when I mentioned it to my husband, the wait staff overheard and quickly brought me the same dish with rice noodles.

Sun: Sala Thong on Newnham Road for dinner with two of M*'s classmates: Francis and Karen. This Thai restaurant is pleasing for four reasons: consistently good food, friendly service, reasonable prices and a five-minute walk from our flat.

Mon: The Snug Bar for an afternoon smoothie with Yuri and Tialda. Yes it's a bar and Tialda is pregnant, but they have delicious smoothies (the mango, apple juice and cucumber concoction is quite refreshing and lite). Since Tialda is leaving at the end of the month for Seoul, it's important to get quality time with her.

Wed: Evensong at King's College Chapel with Yuri, Tialda, Wakako, Maria and M*. The world famous King's College Boys Choir performs most nights at evensong. I've heard them sing twice, but I want to attend a few more of their performances before we leave Cambridge. Unfortunately, the young boys were in class on this night, so it was only the college age choir members present. It was still moving to experience their singing.

Thurs: The Granta Pub with Jessica and M* for Judge MBA pub night. Jessica came over for a sushi dinner, and then the three of us walked down to The Granta. While Jess and I used the time to catch-up, M* used the time to network with Judge students from last years class. They were in town for their graduation.

Sat: "Blades of Glory" at Cineworld with Karen and M*. I am so partial to the Arts Picturehouse, that I had no desire to see a movie at another theatre in Cambridge. However, none of the movies at the AP appealed to us this weekend—we were craving something silly. "Blades of Glory" starring Will Ferrell, Jon Heder, Will Arnet and Amy Poehler to the rescue. Karen is another American Judge student, so the humor was certainly familiar to her. The theatre, part of the Cambridge Leisure Complex, was actually really nice—I had certainly erroneously prejudged it. The tickets only cost $12, and since we wolfed down hunger satiating Mannamexico before the film, we didn't pay any outrageous snack prices.

Things That Make Me Smile

My uncle Peter has become an underwater photographer extraordinaire; he sends photos of his dives at least once a week. I love this photo, which he sent yesterday.

Baby, Birthday and Budweiser Budvar

Our friends Michael and Tiada are leaving on 1 June—14 days before the term actually ends—so that Michael can start an internship in South Korea. Since Tialda was born there, but grew up in the Netherlands, the summer spent in Seoul offers something for both of them.

Not only did they recently announce their imminent departure from Cambridge, but they confirmed M*'s and my suspicion that they were expecting a baby. Tialda gathered friends around on Wednesday on the bridge by The Mill to divulge the information. Since M* and I had seen a pregnancy book partially hidden high up on their shelf, noticed that Tialda had completely stopped drinking and received a tip from Michael that Tialda had a surprise for me, I was armed with celebratory lollipops.

Wakako, Yuri, Tialda, Maria and me celebrating the pregnancy news.

There was more celebrating for the couple during the surprise party that Tialda threw for Michael. Since the majority of M*'s classmates are in their late 20s or very early 30s, it's nice to have another 35er around. Tialda came over to our flat the day before to bake two pies and drop off the lyrics to two Dutch birthday songs: Eenjarig and Langleven. She showed me where to download them in mp3 form, and I played them for the guests so we would know how to (somewhat) properly sing when Michael arrived.

Michael blowing out the 3 and 5 candles to celebrate his 35th birthday.

At the birthday celebration, M* asked the bartender for a beer recommendation. I expected a beer on tap to be mentioned, however a pilsner in a bottle was suggested: Budweiser Budvar. While it has a familiar name, this is not an American beer. According to the bartender, this is the beer that Anheuser-Busch version of Budweiser took its recipe from. Budvar has been brewed since the 1200s in Bohemia. M*'s thoughts: more memorable and refined pilsner than the American version.

M* discovers the original Budweiser: Budweiser Budvar.

Where Do the Cows Go When the Fair Comes to Town?

Biking past Midsummer Common expecting to see the reddish-brown cows, my eyes fell upon a sign bearing one of the monikers of California's governor: Terminator. The fair has arrived in Cambridge. I suspect the cows will return next week, but where do you put a a dozen head of cattle for a week, and how do you get them there? Since the area around Cambridge is quite rural, one suspects that it wouldn't be too hard to locate a local temporary cow relocation service.

Those Cheeky Brits