a disturbing trend

I found something disturbing on myspace today. A young woman suffering from bulimia. And not just one, but many, many young women suffering from eating disorders and encouraging each other in their quest for what seems to be the only thing they know: to be thin. This is disturbing. This is even more disburbing than the appallingly large amount of pro-anorexia sites on the web. This is a young lady chronicling her downward spiral online. Her profile reads like a DSM IV diagnosis: "My Eating Disorders: Technically ednos*, but mostly bulimia...i remember the blissful days of anorexia though and I strive to get there again everyday; Pain Addictions: Hunger, slashing my stomach & ankles"
My heart sunk deeper and deeper as I read comments from other like-minded young ladies. Tales of their "successful" day of not eating a thing. Idle comments about "hunger headaches" that are normal daily occurrences. It's terrifying to me to see these candid stories, wondering where each will end up. Thinking, should I comment? Should I offer them research information? Should I do anything at all? Here's a young lady that is 5'5" with a goal weight of 90lbs. She mentions that she has started a new profile because her last one was "found out". I wonder, has she been to therapy? Do her parents know? Oh, I'm at a loss.

*[ednos: eating disorder not otherwise specified, this is when not all symptoms are met to fall into a specific category...for example, she may be binging/purging but combining that with periods of restricting her food intake]

ice cream, what's not to love?

So it seems my reigning favorite ben and jerry's flavor(Karmel Sutra) has been replaced! What could possibly replace that caramel goodnes, you ask? A little ditty called Vermonty Python - Coffee liqueur ice cream with a chocolate cookie crumb swirl & fudge cows. yeah, uh, yum.

what the website says:
"We interrupt ourselves with much hooting through tin horns to bring you this brilliant new ice cream, made from dried shrubbery and old cereal packets. This is a ripping good flavor, really, so buy it quickly and run away, silly person, or we shall taunt you a second time".

I am devoid of clever banter today, and thus must drool over ice cream.

Stratton Moments

Jake and I happily playing in some nice spots of powder.

Chillin' at Stratton, checkin' out some slopestyle (you can see some of the course in the upper left).

ride ride ride

This weekend was nothing less than fantastic. Three full days of snowboarding at Stratton Mountain, complete with three inches of fresh powder for our riding pleasure on Sunday morning. I haven't ridden powder since last year! We rented a rustic little 2 bedroom vermont condo for the weekend, with wooden ceiling beams and a wood-burning stove. It was so cozy to come back to that after each day of riding. After not riding for three months, I needed all the comfort I could get. This weekend was the US Open Snowboarding Championships. We hung out and watched the quarterpipe on friday, halfpipe on saturday, and slopestyle on sunday. Shaun White took home first in the halfpipe and slopestyle. We saw his halfpipe runs...DAMN, that kid can fly! We saw a few runs standing on top of the pipe, and then caught the action at the bottom so we could see the whole pipe. The pipe for this year exceded the Torino pipe by 4 feet, and was the largest in competition history...talk about going big! By Sunday, we were pretty tuckered out, but got to ride right next to the slopestyle course and catch come sem-final runs. By finals time we needed to get heading back to New Haven. I didn't realize until this morning that I missed Tara Dakides ride the slopestyle course. Bummer. She did a backflip with a melon grab. Woulda been sweet to see. Can't win 'em all. All in all, we caught a ton of competition action while still getting plenty of runs down the mountain. It was surreal to catch a patch of powder, then ride down next to a kicker and see a rider fly through the air, then ride down a little further a catch another rider hit a rail. oof. very nice. Next year we may bypass the US Open and opt for a weekend up at Killington. I'm told I HAVE to go there. Then again, the open is such a blast. What a great end to the winter season. I'm a little sad to put my board away, but running around in flip flops sounds better everyday.

silly boys

We have a house guest this week. Jake's best buddy and partner in bike crime from the 'burgh. Actually, more than a week. It began last wednesday and goes all the way through this weekend (which will be capped off with our Stratton Mountain snowboarding extravaganza). I enjoy the heck out of house (er, apartment) guests. Last night I cooked up some pecan-encrusted Salmon, with mashed taters, and carmelized carrots. I'm so much better at cooking for three...with two, I always have a rediculous amount of leftovers. So the boys have been entertaining themselves quite well over the course of the past week. Examples:
1. Jazz is Dead at Toad's Place. I partook in this. The partaking was grand.
2. Saturday. 97 mile bike ride starting in New Haven, CT and ending in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. (I don't own a road bike *YET*, so I had to bow out of this little excursion)
3. Monday night. 9pm urban riding session through the streets of downtown New Haven. Stair jumping, wall jumping, and general overall debauchery. Where was I? Um, half asleep after eating a ginormous falafel. heh. Aren't I exciting?
4. This morning. 7am mountain bike ride. We have 25mph winds right now! yoi! (where was I? sleeping. come on now)

Can't wait to see what the weekend brings.

hot air

This office is oppressively hot today. To the point that I've had a screaming headache and feeling of nausea all day despite an open window and constant hydration since 9am. If only this building were a bit closer to the Long Island Sound. I can see it from my window, just needs to be a little closer. Anyway. A rather uneventful Monday. The weekend was pretty mellow. I had a nice 2 mile or so walk around New Haven Saturday afternoon. Stopped in at a few gallery-esque shops, stopped by Ten Thousand Villages and bought my mom an adorable Easter trinket (a carved wooden egg). Coat open, sun shining...spring? Could it be? I'm already getting giddy for lily's, daffodils, and Easter eggs. And I'm definately ready for flip flops. (ironic that I'm going snowboarding this weekend!)

JAZZ IS DEAD

Last night we ventured to Toad's Place for a night of "Jazz is Dead". I only caught wind of the band last year. I was listening to Jake's iPOD and suddenly I realize I'm listening to the Dead, only it's not the Dead. I's a jazzy, funky, devoid of vocals rendition of the dead. It's the dead, and at the same time, it's something totally new and fantastic. It's Jazz is Dead, and it's like a musical revelation. A random snippet from Jambase:

This is not just another Dead “tribute band.” Far from it. The band’s approach is to take the great repertoire of the Grateful Dead and to interpret it in a jazz-fusion style. There are no vocals; this band is all about focusing on the amazing music without allowing the vocals to distract from the “musical conversation,” as they call it. They are trying to give a fresh reading to material that has aged well but that has nonetheless been heard largely one way for decades.

The musician lineup isn't constant, but one thing that remains is the deep musical talent of each musician that steps up to take part in this dynamic collaboration.
The line-up for last night consisted of:
-Jeff Pevar (Crosby, Stills & Nash/Phil & Friends)
-T Lavitz (Dixie Dregs/Widespread Panic)
-Jeff Sipe (Phil & Friends/Aquarium Rescue Unit)
-Dave Livolsi (John Scofield Band/Tower of Power)
-Rod Morganstein (Dixie Dregs)

Two Drummers (Sipe and Morganstein)! And let me tell you, I'm no expert, but Sipe is something of a marvel. I love shows where the drummer (or drummers) are showcased and get to go off on insane tangents. At the end you're left with a mouth hanging down to the floor and an expression of "holy F**K!!!!". Songwise, we were treated with rockin' versions of Tennessee Jed and Scarlet Begonias...and for the encore it was DARK STAR! I was so tired by the end of the night, but it was well worth sticking it out to hear that.

And so. JAZZ IS DEAD. Check 'em out. If you have the slightest interest in the Dead or Jazz, they won't disappoint.

A literary moment

In high school we read "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot. There were days and days spent on this particular Eliot piece. Not a stanza passed without a thorough dissection and discussion. On day one, we loved Prufrock. By day 900 (okay, i'm exaggerating a bit) we wanted to personally hunt down J. Alfred Prufrock and flog him mercilessly into literary submission. He was quite the nuisance, to the point that I'd find myself wandering the halls sing-songing these lines out loud:
"In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo."
JAP was like a giant mosquito wriggling about on the flypaper of our brains. urgh. But in retrospect, all that tireless analysis served a purpose. I actually remember the damn thing. It made an impression. I learned. And remembering this long proves I didn't kill all my brain cells in college after all. College. This brings me to today and why Prufrock is making this special blog appearance. I came across this: The Closest Jay Comes to a Love Song. It's J. Alfred Prufrock...adapted for frat boys. It's a damn entertaining spoof, if only because of my long history with JAP.

Here's a little taste of the original:

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … 10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And an excerpt from ode de frat boy:

Let’s go babe, you and I,
When the night’s straddling the sky
Like a passed-out drunk guy.
Let’s walk down frat row.
Yeah, let’s go
And remember our night in the HiHo Motel
And that wack restaurant with bad oysters. Hell!
Frat row that flows like a stream of spilt beer
When the keg is empty
To point us to the question…
But don’t ask “Where’s the other keg?”
I’d rather sit here and fondle your leg.

At the rager the chicks come and go
Talking about art or something, I don’t know.


I am so completely amused right now, it's downright scary.

Eureka

I'm cured. Oh happy day. (with the exception of some minor residual stuffiness...but nothing this girl can't handle :o)

textured eating

I'm still surfing the wave of illness. The flu is relentless. I don't recommend it. I'm one of those stubborn workaholics that usually makes it to work regardless of feeling like a giant pile of crap...but not this week. I had to concede. The flu beat me. Not only that, it beat me for an entire week! That is so utterly disappointing. I need to give my immune system a pep talk. One of the most annoying aspects of flu-ness is that I am faced with a complete lack of sense in the smell and taste departments. Case in Point: Yesterday I made myself a bagel with peanut butter and jelly. The PB was slightly melted from the hot bagel (just how I like it), and the jelly sat nicely on top. It looked so fabulously tasty, but eating it was like sucking down warm thick slime on a sheet of cushy styrofoam. blech. My Edy's Fruit popsicles taste like ice cube sticks, ben and jerrys ice cream all tastes the same regardless of what flavor I try (last night I had some form of peanut butter chocolate with nuts...atleast that's what Jake told me I was eating). All liquids are the same, with the exception of carbonated ones. Ginger Ale atleast has that cool fizzy thing going for it. So I'm resigned to textured eating. "Ohhh, this tastes like crunchiness!" and "This tastes like smooth!" I should just go buy a bunch of pop rocks.