Looking in the mirror for fine lines, and using my increased salary to buy anti-aging regimens.
Married, one child, in a small bungalow within the city limits, and hopefully not working. Also, able to knit.
If the last five years are any indication, probably in the same place. My cat and I will have put on a few pounds, and I will be at my 7th school. In a leadership position. That’s what you’re getting at, right?
I don’t know. Maybe Portland. Or Alaska? Somewhere other than here.
On the other side of this table, asking better questions.
I was doing my post-run exercises at the gym yesterday, and even though I ran in a controlled climate and there was air conditioning I could still feel the effects of the heat, and all of sudden I couldn’t listen to any fast songs, I needed something slower, something to remind me of other seasons.
I started making a list of some other songs that could work for this musical cooling:
Once rivals, the glitzier Minneapolis and the more down-to-earth St. Paul are starting to lose their differences to become a single metropolitan area.
I think this article might be satire.
The article was kinda stupid, but for as much as I like to rip on St. Paul, we cross the river on an almost daily basis. My wife works there, we go to the Whole Foods there, we have friends that live there, and eat out there. Minneapolis will always be home to me, and St. Paul will always feel strange, but the border isn’t what it once was.
And our situation is nothing compared to that of Kansas City, a metropolitan city that spans two states. That isn’t all that common and it creates an interesting competition between the two.
I of course have opinions on this! Not really the article, but the general ideas.
Minneapolis and St. Paul are not islands, and even the great Mississippi is not some ultimate divider, since both cities have viable neighborhoods on either side of the river. The cities coexist together - Minneapolis would not be the city it is if St. Paul were non-existent, or if the suburbs weren’t there, and vice versa.
This is part of why I get annoyed when people make knee-jerk blanket remarks like “St. Paul sucks!” (oh look! Right there in the notes of this post!). To deny the interconnectedness of the two cities, to praise one while completely slamming the other, is short-sighted and will quite honestly make me think of you as a bit of an idiot. I understand preferences, and I understand that if you live and work in Minneapolis and all of your friends are there, you probably don’t have a lot of reason to go to St. Paul. This doesn’t mean that it’s worthless, or that there’s nothing to do there, or you need to condescendingly apologize to anyone who chooses to live there.
To me, living in the Twin Cities is finding and celebrating the goodness of both. When friends visit, they immediately notice the beauty of the Cathedral, right near my home. I take them to places like Mickey’s Diner, Swede Hollow Cafe, and the farmer’s market. “I love St. Paul!” they say. Then we go to the Stone Arch Bridge or the Sculpture garden and wander around. You can have a perfectly good time in either city on its own, but you can have an even better time in both.
This is to say that I agree with the main point of the article, even if the article itself isn’t great. A healthy rivalry is fine, but it’s not really in either city’s best interests to be down on the other.
Deb mentioned that I would probably like the essay in the Runoff this week, and she’s right! It’s great! It’s all about experiences living in Louisiana and the Twin Cities, and the water that connects us all. The parts about swimming and being immersed really resonated with me, such as this one:
I admit to having the same impulse regarding Lake Pontchartrain. Often I longed to simply pull my car over and jump in—to really experience that water, to become a part of it, letting it soak through my skin and right into my bones. Instead I learned to live vicariously, remembering horrifying pollution statistics.
About a month ago I swam a mile long race in Lake Harriet - it was cold, smelly, and felt like an awfully long mile but I was happy to have done it. I posted my triumph on facebook and among the likes and way to go’s there was a “ewwwwww.” Because, you know, urban lakes are like, so gross. And while I understand this sentiment, the stubborn part of me still wants to experience the lake for what it is, and that doesn’t happen if you just walk around it and enjoy the view. You have to get in.
We are lucky here to have bodies of water where this is still possible, even if the thought of swimming in someone else’s untreated toilet makes us squeamish. (Pro-tip: when you do long races, you have to get away from the beach zone, which is where most of the grossness festers.) We are lucky to have bodies of water where the scariest living things within them (fish, weeds) really pose no harm.
Swimming in water and actually experiencing it also gives you a better perspective of how the water has changed (usually for the worse) over time, a necessary reminder that what we put down our drains does indeed go somewhere. This reminder becomes more acute the closer you are to the oils on the surface, the more you have to scrub the scent of lake off when you shower.
Still, I think of all the places I’ve swam in Minnesota (and the world) and am grateful to have done it, and am always wishing to add more to the list.
In the past week or so I have been on a relative tear of sewing, meaning that I finished TWO projects in about a week (one with a zipper!). Okay.
Voila. This is the Tiny Pocket Tank. I look glum because it is rather shapeless, in that “is she hiding a bump or what?” sort of way. (I’m not.) I knew this going in, but still.
It’s a little better belted, but then you have to wear a constrictive belt, and summertime is not about holding things in but rather feeling free and easy after drinking beer and eating ice cream.
Pros of this pattern: truthfully, this is maybe the easiest pattern I have worked with. I don’t know if it’s solely because of the clear directions or maybe I’m just getting the hang of things, but it was really nice not to mark up my notes with WTF all over them.
I know! It has forks and spoons on it and is sort of ridiculous but the fabric reminded me of this dress I saw a few years ago. OKAY, YEAH, the colors make it a bit more camp and not as classy but I just might be the sort of person who wears a cutlery skirt to a picnic. I also might be my mother’s daughter.
Anyway, I got the materials for this one in preparation for a class that got canceled the day after I bought the stuff. Drat! The pattern is sort of shit, I mean A-line skirt patterns are a dime a dozen and the instructions were maddening. They said things like, “put in zipper” and GOOD THING I TOOK A CLASS ON ZIPPERS, GUYS.
Next up: a knit dress and hopefully finishing some tanks that have been sitting around forever.
As if it wasn’t hard enough being the perpetual Jan Brady to Minneapolis’ Marcia (Cindy is, like, Brainerd), now residents have to deal with a national magazine calling St. Paul the 24th worst dressed city in America. To make matters worse, the writer even includes a shout-out to Minneapolis at the end of the description, choosing to call it “younger,” “hipper,” and “boutique-strewn.” It’s like pouring salt in an already festering, highly self-conscious wound that is badly dressed in last season’s gauze.
Yeah, let’s all keep on quoting the first part of this summary (the rest goes on to point out that GQ doesn’t really like the way anybody dresses, including notoriously hip cities like San Francisco, Austin, and Seattle (because they liked flannel in the 90s)) of this really terrible list (can someone point out a list like this that isn’t some shade of terrible?) because making fun of St. Paul has never ever been done before.
Also, I find it superbly disappointing that instead of finding people actually dressed badly (like, it would not be so hard! Jeans and Wild sweatshirts at nice restaurants!), we get the Ugly Sweater Party Stock Photo (uhhh) and F. Scott Fitzgerald.
I EXPECT BETTER, ALL OF YOU. AND THAT INCLUDES YOUR CLOTHES.
To start, I’ve never been a crazy Surly fan because most places only serve Furious, and hoppy beers make me grimace (though I am working on this). So when friends decided to go on the tour, I thought…maybe I should be the one driving if all they’ll have is Furious.
But that is no fun! And so we started to figure out a way to enjoy ourselves while traveling responsibly. As a St. Paulite, places like Brooklyn Center are pretty much on the other side of the world. But then I realized that my boyfriend’s place in Bryn Mawr is not as far, and quickly noticed - hey, the bike route is only 6 miles and mostly on trails!
It was a really nice ride, though afterward we were uncomfortably sticky. We worked our way through Theo Wirth Park, and then onto the Victory Memorial Parkway, which is a really nice green boulevard with an off-street bike and pedestrian path. From here, it was about a mile on suburban streets to wind back to the brewery.
I’ve been on a few brewery tours (mostly on vacation) and Surly’s is definitely a beer drinker’s tour, since the focus is more on drinking and less on the facilities and process of brewing the beer. Also, if you want to skip the talking points of the tour and just drink, that’s fine too! I tried almost all of the six or seven brews they had available, and mmmm Coffee Bender. That is some good beer.
So yeah! You should go on the Surly Tour, and you should bike there if it’s not too far from you. And I will get to work on not hating IPAs for life.
“We’re going to form a republic where the people of each district and the Capitol can elect their own representatives to be their voice in a centralized government. Don’t look so suspicious; it’s worked before.”— Mockingjay, by Suzanne Collins. Reading this during the shutdown should be fun.