{Five Things} in NYC

That time we spent our last few hours in NYC at The Plaza drinking wine.

Last weekend in New York City with my besties from DC was the tops. We laughed, ate too much, drank too much, and reestablished our love for brunch, rose wine, the Kate Spade store and wealthy benefactors. Here are some of my favorite moments from this weekend (as if there were only 5 favorite moments).

That time we had cocktails AND a bag of donuts at lunch.

That time I was still learning how to use the selfie stick at the Carrie Bradshaw steps on Perry Street.

That time we made best friends with the Irish bartender and he decided to give us party favors.

And that time I FINALLY met Alice, emily and phil's little piece of sunshine beauty.

This month is going to be cray

And by cray I mean completely not cray because I'm doing Whole30. I know, I'm shocked too. I'm on Day 2 of my month of no sugar, no bread, no cheese, no creamer in my coffee, no wine (gasp!), and no french fries. I may die.

On the other hand, I get to eat things like fresh fruit and veggies, lots of spices, sweet potatoes, eggs, and these almonds that I love. I wanted to plan something after New York because I tend to fall into really bad habits when I am home. I will usually pay little attention to what I eat, drink several glasses of wine a night and watch TV (lately Game of Thrones, another post on that later) until the wee hours in the morning. Not very healthy or productive. So I'm really looking forward to the change up. My mom is doing it with me, so I'll have a partner and it'll make it easier, I hope.

I know the hardest thing for me is going to be to not snack while I'm at work. At any given time at the store we have no less than three containers of peanuts of varying sizes and flavors. Well, apparently peanuts promote inflammation. So I've been taking shots of honey roasted peanuts thinking they are a "healthier" option. Turns out, they're not.

Le sigh.

Anyway, here we go. If anyone has any tips or recipes, feel free to leave them here. I'll keep you updated on my progress. If my next post is as angsty as a teenage girl, I apologize, but I'm probably just in the hangry stage.

You sound like you're from London!

I think I've wanted to move to London since I read Pride and Prejudice sophomore year of high school. In college I bought a book called Living and Working in London that I meant to give to a family I knew that was moving there, but I never had the chance to give it to them. Or maybe I didn't want to part with it. Either way, it's been sitting on my bookshelf ever since.

So this announcement has been a long time coming: I'm moving to London in the fall to pursue a creative writing masters at Westminster University. Serendipitously, in the course of the past few years I've managed to shore up a decent number of friends who live in London, other places in England and across Europe. They're some of the nicest, most fun human adults I've ever met, and I'm excited to be able to see them more frequently. I'm also ecstatic to be working on my writing, with other like-minded people, in one of the most beautiful and exciting cities in the world. Is this real life?!?!

When I think about walking down those London streets, the cool air kissing my cheeks and the gray skies making everything around me glow in pale light, I wish I could go tomorrow. But I know a lot of things must happen before I can board a plane for Heathrow. I have to get a visa; I'm going to two bachelorette parties where I have to reluctantly say goodbye to the best friends a girl can have (even though I hope they will all come visit me). I have to pack, though I don't even want to think about the massive bag that I will lug around... I have to find housing; I have to keep writing; I have to mentally prepare for hearing all those accents all the time. It may be months away, but the planning starts now.

I'm not sure what the fate of Of A Long Book will be once I move across the pond. This move feels like such a large shift in my life, and I don't know if this blog will continue to fit the circumstances in which I find myself. I don't want to stop writing about my experiences, but maybe with an appropriate change to the way I present them to you, my dear readers. While I explore every opportunity I'll keep you informed. And if I do transition to another online location, I truly hope you'll follow along.

In the Ice Bar the last time I was there with some besties!

Recent Reads

Nicaragua is a great place to get some reading done, it turns out. They don't tell you that in brochures. Since temperatures in the afternoon often reach the mid-90s, and there's very little refuge to seek in cool places, most days I would seek whatever shade I could find and read until the sun went down. Here are some of the more notable books I've read so far this year: 

A Time to Kill, John Grisham

We've all seen the movie, or parts of the movie, with Matthew McConaughey and Samuel L. Jackson, about the lawyer who defends an African American man in Mississippi who murders the two white men who raped and beat his daughter. It's a compelling story, but I liked the movie better. The book was good and moved along quickly, but there was a lot of buildup and not very much pay off in the book. At least in the movie, we get that great closing statement from Matthew in the courtroom.

A Painted House, John Grisham

My second Grisham novel of the year, this one is absent any lawyers or courtrooms. The Painted House is set on a farm in rural Arkansas and follows a seven year old kid throughout the summer and into the fall as he picks cotton with his parents and grandparents. They hire a couple other families to help, and there is inevitably some drama. As the little boy narrates, characteristics of small-town life begin to unfold before the reader's eyes, and I was drawn into Luke's life and the terrible and wonderful things he witnesses.

Devil in the White City, Erik Larson

I was taken aback by the sheer amount of research that had to have gone into this book. Larson writes with so much authority, it almost reads like a novel. In the 1890s, Chicago hosted the World Fair, and the architects and builders struggled to top the Parisian World Fair after it revealed the Eiffel Tower a few years earlier. Meanwhile, a charming, slippery, and absolutely crazy murderer lived and worked just a few miles away. This guy, H.H. Holmes, ran a hotel that allowed him to employ young women and then kill them in disturbing ways. It's not a book for the easily-nauseated, but it is pretty fascinating how he managed to do everything he did without getting caught. I also loved getting to picture in my mind the World's Fair, and what the head architect, Daniel Burnham, accomplished. Larson recently wrote another book about the Lusitania that I may have to read.

Orphan Train, Christina Baker Kline

This is a novel about a girl from Ireland who came to America with her family, then suddenly finds herself orphaned and shipped out West by train to find a new family. Set at the beginning of the Depression in the 1930s, the book describes takes us through her harrowing experiences with lots of families before she finally settles. I won't spoil it by saying how. Her story is intertwined with another girl's, but this one is 70 years later in Michigan. It's a really good book and I recommend it for a cross-country flight or a quiet weekend at home.

Born Standing Up, Steve Martin

I love Steve Martin. You love Steve Martin. We all love Father of the Bride. That's why I thought this book would be as great as he is. He is a good writer and kept me engaged, but it wasn't as laugh-out-loud hilarious as I thought it was going to be. Martin writes about his stand up career before going into movies, and it was somewhat difficult for me to connect because I know literally nothing about stand-up. However, it's always fun to see behind the curtain (literally) of a celebrity's life and certainly worth a gander if you're into memoirs of famous people.

Go Ask Alice, Anonymous

I read this well-known book, that's had some controversy over the years, in an afternoon. It was promoted as a real-life diary in the 1970s, but has since come out as complete fiction. It is sad to watch this girl's downfall, but what's most interesting to me is that teenage girls are going through the exact same thing as they were in the 70s. Besides all the drugs, Alice pretty accurately describes a lot of the thoughts and feelings girls have in those good ol' teen years.

The Girl on the Train, Paula Hawkins

This is a great new novel. As Rachel commutes into London by train every day, she becomes obsessed with a couple living in one of the track houses that she can see from the train. Then one day she sees the wife doing something she shouldn't be doing, and Rachel gets caught up in the whole thing. Come to find out her ex-husband lives just down the street and comes back into the fold in the worst possible way. I had to pry myself away from it, and I think you'll love it.

Utopia, Thomas More

I bought this at my favorite book store on Capitol Hill and am getting through it slowly. It's surprisingly readable considering it was written in the early 1500s and translated from Latin. It does have a lot of comments about social constructs and politics and is surprisingly relevant to today. I'll have more to report once I finish it. 

Happy reading!! 

There's absolutely no reason to go to Southern California.

Seriously, the Coachella Valley is disgusting. 

Look at this gross view of green, green grass and mountains in the background.

There's nothing to do or see and I can't understand why people live there. 

The Palm Springs Modern Art Museum had absolutely nothing exciting in it. (My dad's face says it all.)

And this Liza Minnelli impersonator at a drag bar was so boring.

And this musician played nothing good or moving in the middle of a street fair.

You'll only be disappointed by the thousands of unique restaurants, El Paseo shopping center, golf courses and tennis courts for miles, hiking paths and downtown centers, museums in Palm Springs and more spas than you could ever visit in a lifetime. So really, don't ever visit.

The golf courses are just okay.

The food is never delicious.

Ugly bunnies live on golf courses, completely ruining your game.

After last week, I never want to go back.**

**Except that I do, like, now. 

Five Things

Seeing Mombacho Volcano on the drive back from Ometepe.

I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamt that I went to Nicaragua for three months and made all these new friends from all over the world and had a great time. The internet was terrible and it was really hot, but we drank cold beer, smoothies, and icy Nica libres. My house was filled with lots of vegetarians, and no one ever knew the time. I sometimes felt like my mosquito net would strangle me. I met these adorable Nicaraguan kids and hoped that I could help them in some small way. 

Then I woke up, and it wasn't a dream. Now I'm back in Abilene feeling so grateful for the last three months, and wondering what it is that I'll do next.

Here are five things that made me happy during my last few days in Granada.

My name in Russian. Thanks Beth!

Refrigerator art.

A quiet, slow morning in Casa Libertad.

The most amazing chocolate banana pancakes from Garden Cafe. What a great last meal in Nicaragua! 

Questionable Biking Skills on Ometepe

Watching from the ferry, I was already impressed with the island of Ometepe as it got closer and closer. A large island made of up of two volcanoes, Concepcion and Maderas, Ometepe is in the southern part of Lake Nicaragua and just a half-day's journey from Granada. It's become a tourist destination not only for travelers, but also for Nicaraguans who want some beach time away from Managua or Leon or Granada.

Cristina and I arrived late afternoon last Thursday, and were looking forward to seeing the beautiful island and relaxing by the water. After the ferry docked, we took a tuc-tuc to our hostel, Finca Magdalena, almost on the other side of the island. That night, we ate a very typical Nicaraguan meal at the hostel and shared a liter of Tona. Cristina was climbing the Maderas volcano the next morning, so it was an early and quiet night.

La lancha, or small ferry, across.

The two volcanoes of Ometepe.

The next day, I had a leisurely breakfast at the hostel and began to make my way to Ojo de Agua about 10am. Ojo de Agua is a natural spring in the middle of the island that they've made into a swimming pool-like attraction. Our plan was to meet up there that afternoon. I began to walk over toward Ojo de Agua and quickly realized that it was a hella far way away. I though I'd better rent a scooter or bike or something or else I'd never get there.

While I was thinking about that, I noticed the best view of Concepcion in the distance. Stopping to take a picture, I heard a motorcycle slow behind me. A man stopped and asked in Spanish if I wanted a ride somewhere. I told him I was looking for a place to rent bikes or scooters, and if he knew of one. He said he did and to hop on. I reluctantly got on, knowing that if I started to feel unsafe I could just jump off the scooter. We drove for about 5 minutes before passing a place, and since his questions started to feel a little personal and probing, I yelled "Aqui!!" and he stopped. I jumped off and threw a quick "gracias" in his direction, and began to look for the owner of the bike rental shop. Honestly, he was probably just a friendly guy giving me a ride on his island, but as a woman traveling alone one can never be too sure. I could write a whole blog post about that topic alone, so that's all I'll say for now.

These pretty, friendly birds were everywhere.

The view of Concepcion, right before the guy on the bike stopped.

A few minutes later, pedaling down the road on my pink and silver bike, I was the envy of my 10-year-old self on such a beautiful mode of transportation. The breeze refreshed my whole body, and it felt good to use some muscles that have been practically dormant for the past couple months. Then I decided to change the gears on my bike and everything went wrong. I heard the awful grinding and twisting of metal, and my right pedal stuck. It wouldn't make a revolution and I was too scared to break it even more if I forced it. I got off to see what the problem was, which I realize now is completely futile because I know next to nothing about bikes.

I looked up at a friendly-faced security guard a few yards away, hoping that he could help. He could, and after a few minutes he had the chain untangled and the bike working again. I offered him my towel to clean his oil-covered hands, but he refused, saying that they were too dirty. As he went to find his own towel, I noticed the nice, grand-looking hotel that he was meant to be guarding. With sweat soaking through my dress, it was time for a rest. I parked my bike and went in to the restaurant for lunch and a cappuccino. Checking my map, I found I was only about half-way to Ojo de Agua and it was already after midday. Too far for me to bike in one day (except for this one time last year). I decided to stay at the hotel's beachfront that afternoon and told Cristina to meet me there. So we relaxed by the beach the rest of the afternoon and would hit Ojo de Agua the next morning.

Finally relaxing at the beach.

At one point, I looked over and saw this herd of cattle drinking from the lake! I forgot that it is freshwater and they can do that without dying.

We rode back to the hostel on my bike in total Nica style with Cristina pedaling and me sitting side-saddle on the bar in front of her. Some of our friends from Esperanza had arrived at our hostel that afternoon, and we spent the evening playing cards on the deck and eating a delicious dinner while the sun set behind the volcano.

I mean.

We did go--by cab--to Ojo de Agua the next day before heading back to Granada. It was hot (what else is new?), so I swam in the cold, refreshing water as long as I could, and read on the side for the rest of it. Though we had to get back that night, I would have happily spent another day on the beach with my toes in the lake, or on a porch somewhere watching the sun set.

Ojo de tourists.

Cristina sneakily took this of me lounging in the water. I clearly didn't want to go.