Lindy Hoppin' Linus

Okay, read my post about where all the Metros are. You'll get the Pete reference.

I just heard on the news that Wally Szczerbiak, my favorite player from the Timberwolves, has joined the Celtics. And now, I have to go to a basketball game. Many basketball games. I love watching basketball...and I love the way Wally Szczerbiak plays... It only makes sense that I have to go watch him play now.

Oh man, I didn't really get into the basketball season last year because I couldn't watch my Wolves (no 1 million channels that would give me the option of watching non New England sports...). But, I can switch to the Celtics to see my favorite player. [Okay, I realize those die-hard sports fans may read this and think it's totally blasphemous that I just said that, but I've never been a team sports fan. I just like the sport itself, and every once and awhile I get attached to one player or another, but I'm really all about watching the sport.]

Woo! Basketball, Szczerbiak...in my city! I can hardly stand it!

Oh man, and now, the moment you've all been waiting for...

[or maybe just the moment I've been waiting for because I get to talk about it some more...]

My post about my fabulous (and somewhat mysterious if you read the post before this one...) Wednesday food.

There's a deli. Downtown. Couple blocks away from Post Office Square. Right next to the statue memorial for the Hungarian... something. [Man, do I feel insensitive now because I walk past it every Wednesday and can't even remember what the memorial is about.]

The Bull Market Deli. [insert loud fanfare and lots of cheering here]

The Bull Market Deli has a feature meal for lunch every day of the week. They're cute and small-business-y like that.

And on Wednesdays, their special is the Pilgrim Sandwich. [insert more loud fanfares and raucous cheering from out of control fans, at 10 times the volume of the previous fanfare and cheering]

Oh man. The Pilgrim Sandwich is the most heavenly sandwich I have ever had. And it's that much better for being made only once a week. By the time Wednesday rolls around, I crave it like mad! My entire office knows "Pilgrim Sandwich Day" by now. We don't have Wednesdays, we have "Nina's Pilgrim Sandwich Day" in the middle of every work week. [I have yet to get anyone in my office to get one of these delightful sandwiches, however. I've decided it's simply because they can't handle the sheer intensity that is the Pilgrim Sandwich.]

But I digress. You're screaming at me: For the love of God, Nina, just tell us what is in this sandwich already!!!
[Actually, Pete's screaming it, too, it turns out. Go figure.]

The Pilgrim Sandwich is quite simply Thanksgiving dinner in sandwich form. [Mouth watering yet?] It's got a layer of stuffing on the top, a layer of cranberry sauce on the bottom, sandwiching the thick, juicy slices of turkey in the middle of the two. Put on an over-sized braided roll, and slathered with a good helping of gravy before it's closed and cut and wrapped up in parchment paper. [If your mouth is not watering by now, then you better go run to the kitchen and drink a gallon of water because you must be completely dehydrated and thus unable to salivate.]

You see now why Wednesday is without a doubt the best day for lunch in downtown Boston?

I was sick last Wednesday, and we're talking stomach-flu-can't-eat-solid-foods sick, too. And therefore, I could not have a Pilgrim Sandwich for lunch last week. Turns out, I was sleeping when lunchtime rolled around. And I woke up around 1:00 or so from a dream about eating a Pilgrim Sandwich. This sandwich is that good! My mom is coming to visit me in April. She's flying in on a Wednesday. And we got her an early flight so that I can take her for a Pilgrim Sandwich for lunch. That's how amazing this sandwich is! It determines travel plans. It creeps into my dreams when I'm stomach-flu sick and repulsed by the thought of food. It renames Wednesdays in my office.

[Oh man, the power of this sandwich!]

There are some who will read this post and think I'm wacko, off my rocker, and completely over-obsessed to the point of lunacy due to the endless praise I give this sandwich. Let's get one thing clear: they've never had this sandwich. Let them judge and shake their heads in scorn. I don't care. There must be cynics in the world or it would be awfully boring. They just can't understand. Or won't.

Either way, don't listen to them. Don't be them. Go get yourself a Pilgrim Sandwich. Trust me, your Wednesdays will never be the same...

I went out for my lunch break today and stopped by my favorite deli to get my Wednesday food, [stay tuned, I will post about this next...although I can't believe I haven't posted about this amazing work of culinary art before!] then stuck my food in a paper bag and headed out the door for a quick stop at that big green & clear stand that's full of Metros. The idea was to grab one quickly, then head back inside the deli and sit down to eat my sandwich while I do the Sudoku and crossword [both of which I'm totally addicted to].

Now, I didn't actually know there was one right outside of the door, but I see so many clumps of paper stands around the downtown area that I figured there must be a Metro stand somewhere close by... [In case you're out of touch with the downtown area, there is quite literally a clump of free paper stands on every other corner in any direction you walk downtown. A little ridiculous, a little excessive, a little weird...yes, all of the above.]

Oh no. No Metro stand right outside the deli.

No matter, I tell myself. I'll just walk to the next block.

Uh-uh. None there either.

Nor at the next block...

...nor the next...

...nor the next.

Where are all the freakin' Metro stands??? I cry silently in my head, my delightful lunch still clutched under my arm in a paper bag, getting cold in the January air.

And so, 20 minutes later, I end up about 6 blocks up from the deli, having taken a detour that totaled about 12 blocks. Find the Metro stand I know about. Grab a Metro. And walk somewhere else to eat my Wednesday food so it's not completely cold by the time I eat it.

And that is my story. All for a stinkin' addiction to the Metro's Sudoku and crossword. My food was still warm enough for me to eat one half of it before it got cold, by the way, so it wasn't all bad...

But seriously, here's my shout to the world of Boston:

Get some more freakin' Metro stands in downtown Boston, for Pete's sake!!!

[Because really, Pete's pretty peeved about this lack of Metro stands in downtown Boston, too. And you don't wanna mess with Pete. Trust me.]

I recently started a dance practice group with a good friend of mine from the Lindy scene in Boston. It's a small group, just a few of our friends from the Boston scene, and recently a few more friends from the Providence Lindy scene. We have a lot of fun...it's great to get together and work out moves and timing and just dance.

Since we're still relatively new, we've been working on finding regular space in which to practice, because we've grown bigger than any of our living rooms can accommodate. So I've started researching places in Cambridge and Boston that rent out rehearsal space for dancers. And I was blown away by how many places do actually rent out space for pretty reasonable prices! Granted, they fill up rather quickly for weekend times, but still...there are so many options to go through!

Is it crazy for me to be so surprised by this? Maybe, maybe not. Since moving to Cambridge I've heard again and again that the City of Cambridge is known for its support of the arts, and dance is most certainly included in that. But I come from Minnesota originally [as if you hadn't figured that out yet...but just in case you hadn't...haha!] and finding space to dance in the Twin Cities was always a challenge for our Lindy scene. That's what I'm used to...the discussion of putting together a dance or something, and the inevitable hesitation because it'll be hard to find space to rent in which to dance.

But here in Cambridge, it's a completely different story. Dance studios and arts center abound. They're willing to give us space if they have it available, willing to negotiate prices if we want to use them as a regular rehearsal space, and the studios are spacious with good quality dance floors! It's like a dance rehearsal space heaven!

On the topic of dance in Cambridge, I'm also a little more amazed than I probably should be at the number of places that offer dance classes for really great prices. Perfect for students or young people a few years out of college who can't pay a lot for classes. [like me!] A little research online (we're talking maybe 10 minutes of web surfing) brought me The Dance Complex in Central Square, and the Boston Dance Alliance website, plus a bunch of other links from my google searches that I didn't pursue but were relevant to my research.

I must say, as a dancer looking to broaden her dance vocabulary into other forms of dance, I feel so welcome and wanted in this community. Cambridge, in my humble opinion, is the place for dancers to be!

Turns out I haven't posted in quite a while. Weeks! And this is crazy, so here I am with a fresh new post. Woot! [And hey, if I get really crazy, I might even post twice today! CRAAAAZY!!!]

In the past few months, I've picked up a funny little pastime: collecting Google searches that bring up my blog in the top 10 sites on the results list. It's pretty simple really, using Site Meter to see what site referred people to mine. And I get the craziest searches that link to my blog! So I thought that I'd share a few, and keep a semi-regular report going of the new searches that bring up my blog. [Okay, yes, it's kind of a silly thing to collect. But if you don't expect silly things out of me by now, then you obviously haven't read my blog well enough...]

My all-time 10 favorites: [The parenthetical number at the end is what number my blog was ranked in that search.]

- Johnny Rockets+server's dancing and singing (#5)
- geek lindy (#4)
- hancock tower lights and their meaning (#1)
- irrational anger with age (#1) [of course, how excited I should be that my blog is ranked 1 on this search, I'm not entirely sure...]
- hoppin+colour (#1) --from Google Australia
- "sudden unconstitutionality" (#2, of only 2 matches) --from Google Uruguay
- definition: "rode the red" (#2)
- minnesotan cellular phone facts (#1)
- tough math proof (#2) --from Google India
- Red Had Linus Shriek (#1) --from Google UK

What I love about these searches is that quite often they have nothing to do with any of my posts directly, but are a conglomeration of things I've written about on my blog. I also love that I show up on foreign Google sites. I guess it's not all that odd, when you think about it. It just seems so cool...my blog is global! :)

No worries, I'll keep you all *posted* on new and exciting Google searches that reach my blog. [And, oh yes, that really awful pun was intended, hence the emphasis on the word...]

Though our society is probably destined to one day appear in a history book labeled as the Technological Age, or something to that effect, I'm narrowing it down today to serve my own purposes (i.e. this post).

We live in a world of cell phones. Ever stop and try to remember what life was like without them? How did people meet each other at places? How did people stay in touch? Well, I'm not going to go into one of those crazy rants about how the "good old days were simpler and better without cell phones and oh how I lament that we can't return to those times." Because I don't lament it. I think cell phones are wonderful. But, I move away from the real reason for this post...lemme get back there.

........................

Okay, back. Brain took a detour. It happens.

Anywho...this world of cell phones that we live in. They're common things these days. They're not just phones, they're entertainment. Accessories galore. Ring tones and games and videos and cameras and text messages and on and on. As I said, we live in a cell phone world. Cell Phone Nation, you might call it [or rather, I might call it...]

Oh, I was very against having one for quite awhile. All through college I strongly resisted. Of course, my college made it pretty easy not to like them. Small campus, lots of outdoor space, lots of things to do. People that I went to college with hid their cell phones if they had them. You didn't carry a cell around campus with you. You only used it in the confines of your room for long distance calls home because that was cheaper. But nobody had (or admitted to having) a cell phone.

I finally got one when I had my first job because I'd be traveling and figured I needed a good way to get in touch with people. And so I joined the Cell Phone Nation. A simple phone. No bells or whistles or cameras or color or anything. This was 2003 people. Like the stone age for cell phones. [Okay, maybe a little less ancient, we certainly aren't talking huge mobile units that were bigger than your head...]

Simple. Sleek. Flip phone. It was pretty. All I needed. Cute little phone, nice big national plan. I was set. And then 2 years passed, and my little cell phone went and grew up and got itself outdated. Go figure. When I went to exchange it, I was looking for something just like my old phone. I didn't need color and cameras and bells and whistles. [Even though now the bells and whistles were commonplace, like Coke in a plastic bottle or 32 flavors of ice cream (and then some...)]

And guess what I found: the flip phone with a camera and a color screen was cheaper, lighter, and thinner than my old phone was. So, I took another step into Cell Phone Nation. The bells and whistles have reached me, too. I haven't as yet joined the world of cell phone accessorizing. I have yet to download a single ring-tone, or buy a single accessory for my phone. I try to keep it simple. Nothing fancy. [Who am I kidding. It's really only a matter of time before I get the hands-free set or break down and download ringtones or something. *sigh*]

Reading this, it may seem to you that I still am not a cell phone fan. You may wonder why I bother at all if I seem so opposed to them. I am indeed quite proud of my ability to resist most of Cell Phone Nation in all its accessorized, decked-out glory. But really, I love my little cell phone. It's the smallest and most easily accessible phone book I've ever owned. It's great for allowing me to keep in touch with old friends. It's invaluable when meeting anyone anywhere. And it's so much cheaper than having a land line. I, like most people in Cell Phone Nation, don't even have a land line. I exist on the phone lines only in the cordless, cellular realm.

So, what is the point of my post then? Okay, sure. I like my cell phone, even though I'm quite proud of my stubborn resistance of Cell Phone Nation taking over my own little world. So?

Well, with all the resistance to Cell Phone Nation, all the stubborn determination to stay simple in this age of cell phones, I now have two of them.

Two.

One for personal use, the "home cell phone." The second for work use, the "business cell phone." If you filled out an address book card in MS Outlook for me, you would have a number for Mobile 1 and Mobile 2 (since they haven't created labels for Home Cell and Work Cell yet...).

Two cell phones.

I've had the second for about 5 months now, so I've gotten used to it, I guess. At first, I forgot to answer it because it had a different ring sound, and because 'hey, I'm supposed to be technically not the hugest fan of cell phones, right?'

I guess this post comes from an experience this evening while walking home from the T after work. I had just gotten out of the station, and had my home cell out to call a friend, when my work cell rang. Now, because I was all mittened up and rushing to grab the work cell from my bag, I ended up walking down the sidewalk with my home cell in my left hand, still open and waiting to dial the friend's number, and my work cell open and raised to my ear with my right hand. See the picture? Nice sleek wool long coat that looks all business-y with all my wintry accessories (mittens, hat, scarf). Shoulder bag hanging to my right side. Headphones draped around my neck. Cell phone open and ready to use in my left mitten paw. Talking into a different cell phone held up with my right mitten paw. Walking down the sidewalk dodging oncoming pedestrian traffic in the end of rush hour sea of people walking home from the T. I was a caricature of the very thing I wanted to avoid: the person who's way too caught up in Cell Phone Nation. The person you pass on the street and shake your head at because they look so unaware of their excessiveness. I get the picture in my head and think I must have looked ridiculous! [Let's be serious. I probably did. I probably also looked like one of those snobby people wrapped up in only their own little world with a 'who cares about anyone else because my life is just more important' attitude. Haha.]

It's almost ironic, isn't it? Me with the 2 cell phones. I won't pull an Alanis and decide to call it ironic when it really isn't. (Oh man, that's a whole 'nother post just waiting to be written! [As is the fact that I just wrote "a whole 'nother" as I type-speak in my vernacular. Funny how 'another' has become 2 words...]) But it is funny that I'm the one who finds herself with not one, but two cell phones. Me, the girl who in college refused to carry a thought of ever owning a cell phone.

Welcome to my slice of Cell Phone Nation: population 3. My cell phone, my other cell phone, and I.