in which there is far too much about chai
Nov. 22nd, 2012 05:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
timerippleI have been a total failure at posting this month, mostly out of sheer laziness and also from feeling like a cat being cuddled and then squeezed too tight. But! Happy Thanksgiving (or Colonial Oppression Day with Food, as we say in my parents’ household). I am so very thankful for my family and my friends, those whom I see often and not-so-often and never, and for the opportunity to travel and see new places, and for music, and books, and chai, and all the wonderful things that I have and have the chance to do.
My friends have been on my mind a lot lately. The beginning of the month was full of travel and madness, first to Atlanta for a wedding and thence to the wilds of North Carolina for hangout times. I got to experience four new airports (apparently I collect them now?) and see a lot of people I haven’t seen in a long time.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
I have overpacked appallingly and checked my suitcase. In my defense, I had to bring the violin as the Fiddleheads (or at least a representative sample) are playing at the wedding. Well--this should be interesting!
Flight leaves in an hour, so I should go get some food (I brought cheesy scones but those are for my four-hour layover in Salt Lake City later tonight). My darlings, I’m thinking of you.
[later]
In Salt Lake City. Was astonished to find most food courts still open, if barely. THEY HAVE PINKBERRY. Nom nom pomegranate froyo with berries and mochi. Totally great dinner.
Have just been shooed away from my previous gate-crashing spot and found another… where the music playing is not your Standard Airport Jazz Blah but the Spice Girls. HAHAHAHA. And now it’s playing that one Whitney Houston song from the episode of Waiting for God where they crash the fashion show. XD This is a pretty great airport.
SO TIRED. I could probably get a chai, but I would really like to actually sleep during this flight. CHAIIIIIII MY LOOOOOOVE.
Friday, November 2, 2012
SO TIRED. Am sitting in hotel lobby waiting for M’s plane to get in. Got on the proper train easily enough, then stood around the station until I finally called the hotel and was made to understand that “free shuttle service every ten minutes” means you have to call ahead and schedule a ride. They were awfully nice about sending somebody for me once we all understood each other. Good thing too, because I was about ready to burst into tears of exhaustion right there in the parking lot. And then they happily agreed to hold my luggage and informed me that their gift shop sells Starbucks coffee and they have a pool.
I nearly cried again when the gift shop turned out to be out of chai. But I settled for a hot chocolate and now I’m hanging out in the lobby reading old journal entries and falling asleep. SO TIRED.
Well, M showed up and we convinced the shuttle to take us to Panera (DRIVER: Here’s a nice steakhouse! M and FIONA: Panera or bust, my friend!). I made M catch up on the Lizzie Bennet Diaries and at last got my terrible Panera chai. Back at the hotel, we got in some practicing and then went to the pool (M to swim and I to lounge around in a hoodie and jeans reading The Swerve. Yup, poolside reading! Shut up, I’ll read about medieval rediscovery of ancient philosophical poetry at the pool if I want to.)
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Upon T’s arrival, we pounced and whisked her away to our room to practice (the hotel had thoughtfully given us a corner room, so we had only one neighbor to disturb) before we were ourselves whisked off in the hotel shuttle to the church. M performed a reading for the ceremony, and did it beautifully. There were bagpipes. APPROVAL. And thus was another dear friend married.
Back at the hotel, we practiced until halfway through the cocktail reception and then found a spot to stash the instruments. We found the Wellesley crowd and headed into the reception hall itself, where I wound up next to one of the bride’s high school friends, who turned out to dislike dancing as much as I do. So we were quickly very companionable without having to say more than necessary.
The Fiddleheads were on between the bouquet toss and the cake-cutting. In the absence of the usual suspects I was in charge of tune selection, arrangement, and leadership (hahahahahahaha “leadership” ahahahahaha that’s such a cute idea). For posterity, our setlist was Marnie Swanson’s/Captain Campbell/Brenda Stubbert’s/Julie Delaney/Boston Urban Ceilidh. (I was super excited that I managed to stick a strathspey in there. Leader privilege ftw! STRATHSPEYS FTW!) Hilariously, it always seems that at these things someone randomly pops up and knows how to step-dance.
The party went on. The DJ was taking requests, and played that song that goes “God bless Amerrrrrrrrica, where at leeeeeeeeeast I knowwwwwwww I’m freeeeeeeeeeee” followed by the Macarena, at which point I declared I needed a drink. (Besides, the bartender looked bored.) I collared my new friend, marched over, and declared, “I hate fruit. What have you got?”
What I got was vodka and cranberry juice, which led me to formulate Fiona’s First Rule of Drinking: Always drink to match your dress. (Thereby proving by repetition that I can accessorize with anything, as previously demonstrated by the Great Laini Taylor ARC Incident of BEA 2011.)
Things wrapped up shortly thereafter and we went to bed. The parent generation, however, went to the bar.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
I rousted M and T, chivvied them through breakfast and into the shuttle van and finally through the MARTA station and onto the proper train. They left at Peachtree Center to do some sightseeing while I continued my very quiet journey to the airport at the end of the line. MARTA really is very quiet, though I suppose it being Sunday had something to do with it. I did some Wikipedia reading on the history of MARTA while I was looking up subway maps, and apparently it has been historically used primarily by black people. (It still is, by my observation. When I took the train in from the airport, I was the only white person in my car, and also the only person with luggage. The others who got on seemed to be workers or students going to the college at the next stop. Of course, it was 7 am on a Friday, but still.) When line expansions were proposed not all that long ago, there was general outcry from the primarily white affluent suburbs that expanding the line would “supposedly allow crime to spread to suburban areas”. Subtext: white people drive cars; white people are wealthy; white people do not commit crimes.
This made me very angry.
I made it to my friends S&S in North Carolina without incident. We went to a local dairy farm store for amazing pre-dinner local ice cream and a little driving tour. Then butternut squash soup with rosemary bread and Brie, and then they made me watch Easy A, which was—I admit—pretty great.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Here am I in North Carolina, in Foster’s, a local gourmet organic-type place with lots of tables and drinks and muffins and, yes, hipsters-in-the-making. Says the girl in the swooshy denim coat, green cap, purple Chuck Taylors, and lavender scarf listening to NEWS and Mumford & Sons. Sorry, the lavender stole, whatever UNIQLO. (It’s safe to say that NEWS will never be popular here.)
This morning I browsed the local indie bookstore happily and thoroughly for about an hour, bought a copy of Mindy Kaling’s book, and then headed off to explore UNC Chapel Hill. Campus is quite pretty, in that brick-and-trees kind of way. Nice library (they have three) with a rare book room, North Carolina/Sir Walter Raleigh historical gallery, and exhibition of Mayan writings modern and ancient. Also a bell tower. Of course. Sadly the planetarium was closed, but I did successfully wheedle a map and guide out of the visitor center and wandered through the arboretum. Finally I got tired and came back here to Foster’s, where I have an apple streusel muffin and a very large cup of soy chai latte that is the best I've had in an long time.
Easy on the chai there, Fiona. You’re going for a tour of Duke later and you don’t want to miss the Gothicky glory because you’re too hyper.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Election Day is upon us all, finally. Here am I at the airport once again. Oh dear, there is a little bird hopping around inside. As resident Disney princess, what should I do about it? It doesn’t seem particularly panicked, just hopping around occasionally pecking at the carpet. It is a very little bird. Well, it’s gone off somewhere else for a bit and I can’t see it any more. I only hope it doesn’t get stuck in the moving sidewalk. No, it just flew up and perched on top of a window.
Last night we went for sushi and pad thai, and then S&S taught me to play Skylanders. This is a curious little two-player video game in which you put little figurines on a pad to activate them and then run around shooting things and opening gates with little keys that you find. I think I was getting better at it by the time we quit. I had a hard time remembering which figure was mine (when they run out of energy you can replace them… this happened to me quite a lot) and I had trouble aiming my shots (luckily friendly fire was a non-issue), but I soon developed a strategy of simply running around shooting.
And then we had to say good-bye this morning and I will go back to missing them terribly.
In other news, I have AIRPORT CHAI. I love airports.
[after the fact]
I finished Mindy Kaling’s book in two hours flat, so I used my precious half-hour layover in Minneapolis to buy Turn Right at Machu Picchu, because I was on a nonfiction streak and because the nice bookseller lady suggested it and experience has taught me you should listen to booksellers. No regrets!
Phew. I’m exhausted just from cobbling all that together out of my exhausted-and-chai-high notes. Celebratory pie is in order. Yes. I hope you are all safe and warm and fed, my friends. There are more travels ahead, and I’m looking forward to seeing some of you in a few weeks!
My friends have been on my mind a lot lately. The beginning of the month was full of travel and madness, first to Atlanta for a wedding and thence to the wilds of North Carolina for hangout times. I got to experience four new airports (apparently I collect them now?) and see a lot of people I haven’t seen in a long time.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
I have overpacked appallingly and checked my suitcase. In my defense, I had to bring the violin as the Fiddleheads (or at least a representative sample) are playing at the wedding. Well--this should be interesting!
Flight leaves in an hour, so I should go get some food (I brought cheesy scones but those are for my four-hour layover in Salt Lake City later tonight). My darlings, I’m thinking of you.
[later]
In Salt Lake City. Was astonished to find most food courts still open, if barely. THEY HAVE PINKBERRY. Nom nom pomegranate froyo with berries and mochi. Totally great dinner.
Have just been shooed away from my previous gate-crashing spot and found another… where the music playing is not your Standard Airport Jazz Blah but the Spice Girls. HAHAHAHA. And now it’s playing that one Whitney Houston song from the episode of Waiting for God where they crash the fashion show. XD This is a pretty great airport.
SO TIRED. I could probably get a chai, but I would really like to actually sleep during this flight. CHAIIIIIII MY LOOOOOOVE.
Friday, November 2, 2012
SO TIRED. Am sitting in hotel lobby waiting for M’s plane to get in. Got on the proper train easily enough, then stood around the station until I finally called the hotel and was made to understand that “free shuttle service every ten minutes” means you have to call ahead and schedule a ride. They were awfully nice about sending somebody for me once we all understood each other. Good thing too, because I was about ready to burst into tears of exhaustion right there in the parking lot. And then they happily agreed to hold my luggage and informed me that their gift shop sells Starbucks coffee and they have a pool.
I nearly cried again when the gift shop turned out to be out of chai. But I settled for a hot chocolate and now I’m hanging out in the lobby reading old journal entries and falling asleep. SO TIRED.
Well, M showed up and we convinced the shuttle to take us to Panera (DRIVER: Here’s a nice steakhouse! M and FIONA: Panera or bust, my friend!). I made M catch up on the Lizzie Bennet Diaries and at last got my terrible Panera chai. Back at the hotel, we got in some practicing and then went to the pool (M to swim and I to lounge around in a hoodie and jeans reading The Swerve. Yup, poolside reading! Shut up, I’ll read about medieval rediscovery of ancient philosophical poetry at the pool if I want to.)
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Upon T’s arrival, we pounced and whisked her away to our room to practice (the hotel had thoughtfully given us a corner room, so we had only one neighbor to disturb) before we were ourselves whisked off in the hotel shuttle to the church. M performed a reading for the ceremony, and did it beautifully. There were bagpipes. APPROVAL. And thus was another dear friend married.
Back at the hotel, we practiced until halfway through the cocktail reception and then found a spot to stash the instruments. We found the Wellesley crowd and headed into the reception hall itself, where I wound up next to one of the bride’s high school friends, who turned out to dislike dancing as much as I do. So we were quickly very companionable without having to say more than necessary.
The Fiddleheads were on between the bouquet toss and the cake-cutting. In the absence of the usual suspects I was in charge of tune selection, arrangement, and leadership (hahahahahahaha “leadership” ahahahahaha that’s such a cute idea). For posterity, our setlist was Marnie Swanson’s/Captain Campbell/Brenda Stubbert’s/Julie Delaney/Boston Urban Ceilidh. (I was super excited that I managed to stick a strathspey in there. Leader privilege ftw! STRATHSPEYS FTW!) Hilariously, it always seems that at these things someone randomly pops up and knows how to step-dance.
The party went on. The DJ was taking requests, and played that song that goes “God bless Amerrrrrrrrica, where at leeeeeeeeeast I knowwwwwwww I’m freeeeeeeeeeee” followed by the Macarena, at which point I declared I needed a drink. (Besides, the bartender looked bored.) I collared my new friend, marched over, and declared, “I hate fruit. What have you got?”
What I got was vodka and cranberry juice, which led me to formulate Fiona’s First Rule of Drinking: Always drink to match your dress. (Thereby proving by repetition that I can accessorize with anything, as previously demonstrated by the Great Laini Taylor ARC Incident of BEA 2011.)
Things wrapped up shortly thereafter and we went to bed. The parent generation, however, went to the bar.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
I rousted M and T, chivvied them through breakfast and into the shuttle van and finally through the MARTA station and onto the proper train. They left at Peachtree Center to do some sightseeing while I continued my very quiet journey to the airport at the end of the line. MARTA really is very quiet, though I suppose it being Sunday had something to do with it. I did some Wikipedia reading on the history of MARTA while I was looking up subway maps, and apparently it has been historically used primarily by black people. (It still is, by my observation. When I took the train in from the airport, I was the only white person in my car, and also the only person with luggage. The others who got on seemed to be workers or students going to the college at the next stop. Of course, it was 7 am on a Friday, but still.) When line expansions were proposed not all that long ago, there was general outcry from the primarily white affluent suburbs that expanding the line would “supposedly allow crime to spread to suburban areas”. Subtext: white people drive cars; white people are wealthy; white people do not commit crimes.
This made me very angry.
I made it to my friends S&S in North Carolina without incident. We went to a local dairy farm store for amazing pre-dinner local ice cream and a little driving tour. Then butternut squash soup with rosemary bread and Brie, and then they made me watch Easy A, which was—I admit—pretty great.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Here am I in North Carolina, in Foster’s, a local gourmet organic-type place with lots of tables and drinks and muffins and, yes, hipsters-in-the-making. Says the girl in the swooshy denim coat, green cap, purple Chuck Taylors, and lavender scarf listening to NEWS and Mumford & Sons. Sorry, the lavender stole, whatever UNIQLO. (It’s safe to say that NEWS will never be popular here.)
This morning I browsed the local indie bookstore happily and thoroughly for about an hour, bought a copy of Mindy Kaling’s book, and then headed off to explore UNC Chapel Hill. Campus is quite pretty, in that brick-and-trees kind of way. Nice library (they have three) with a rare book room, North Carolina/Sir Walter Raleigh historical gallery, and exhibition of Mayan writings modern and ancient. Also a bell tower. Of course. Sadly the planetarium was closed, but I did successfully wheedle a map and guide out of the visitor center and wandered through the arboretum. Finally I got tired and came back here to Foster’s, where I have an apple streusel muffin and a very large cup of soy chai latte that is the best I've had in an long time.
Easy on the chai there, Fiona. You’re going for a tour of Duke later and you don’t want to miss the Gothicky glory because you’re too hyper.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Election Day is upon us all, finally. Here am I at the airport once again. Oh dear, there is a little bird hopping around inside. As resident Disney princess, what should I do about it? It doesn’t seem particularly panicked, just hopping around occasionally pecking at the carpet. It is a very little bird. Well, it’s gone off somewhere else for a bit and I can’t see it any more. I only hope it doesn’t get stuck in the moving sidewalk. No, it just flew up and perched on top of a window.
Last night we went for sushi and pad thai, and then S&S taught me to play Skylanders. This is a curious little two-player video game in which you put little figurines on a pad to activate them and then run around shooting things and opening gates with little keys that you find. I think I was getting better at it by the time we quit. I had a hard time remembering which figure was mine (when they run out of energy you can replace them… this happened to me quite a lot) and I had trouble aiming my shots (luckily friendly fire was a non-issue), but I soon developed a strategy of simply running around shooting.
And then we had to say good-bye this morning and I will go back to missing them terribly.
In other news, I have AIRPORT CHAI. I love airports.
[after the fact]
I finished Mindy Kaling’s book in two hours flat, so I used my precious half-hour layover in Minneapolis to buy Turn Right at Machu Picchu, because I was on a nonfiction streak and because the nice bookseller lady suggested it and experience has taught me you should listen to booksellers. No regrets!
Phew. I’m exhausted just from cobbling all that together out of my exhausted-and-chai-high notes. Celebratory pie is in order. Yes. I hope you are all safe and warm and fed, my friends. There are more travels ahead, and I’m looking forward to seeing some of you in a few weeks!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 11:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-28 04:40 pm (UTC)Anyway. Pomegranate! With berries! And MOCHI! Whaaaaat I WANT THAT.
Also weddings and Fiddleheads and wait, is it warm enough in November to swim? Or was the pool indoors? I'm sad I couldn't go.
All your adventures sound exciting. I wish we were having adventures together.
no subject
Date: 2013-01-28 06:51 pm (UTC)The pool was partly indoors and partly outdoors, if I remember aright, and anyway it was in Atlanta.
I wish we were having adventures together too. Some day we will! *promise*