good news/bad news

It was a good news/bad news kind of weekend.

The good news is that it was great, full of food, friends and frivolity; exactly the kind of thing Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays were invented for. Possibly Thursdays. Wednesdays would be too much, we must all have our limits, what is wrong with you?!! Therefore I do hereby declare Thursdays to be the Weekend Wild Card. All weekends shall begin with an optional Thursday. Forthwith.

After a Friday night pasta-making party for which I made some high-calorie appetizers (bacon, salami and cheese, oh my!) I hit the highway early Saturday for the LA Art Show at the massive Staple Center with a fellow art and fun-loving pal. We sailed across town on the wings of angels and arrived just in time to spend the next 55 minutes sitting around trying to get into the parking garage. C'est LA.

But the day was beautiful and the exhibit, featuring top notch galleries from around the nation, was comprehensive. We wandered among paintings and sculpture for hours, seeking inspiration in everything ranging from early French Impressionist oils to the latest in contemporary mixed-media objects, including some oddly executed, dubiously conceived student work (I'm looking at you, giant pink papier mache' penis in a guillotine!) So comprehensive was the show that it even furnished its own occasional celeb sightings; I am quite certain I nearly made eye contact with Ted Danson, who is lookin' mighty fine if indeed it was him. And if it wasn't, well, someone is keeping themselves up very nicely. Kudos to you, Tall, Tanned and Silver, whoever you may be.

After the show we hit the deliciously old-school Palm restaurant for dinner and drinks and one last hoorah before settling in for the long bleak breadlines to come. I had the Mahi Mahi, half the Gigi Salad (truly ~ how could we not?) and several loaves of bread (little known fact; art appreciation is an inexplicably carby-hardy endeavor. No really, it is...beauty burns bicarbo...oh, stop judging me!)

So what I'm saying is, it was all pretty terrific, which is good.

But I'm also saying it was seriously terrific, and my diet is trashed. Which is bad.

I'm screwed.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Talkin' trash: Monday
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast: black coffee

bunch of grapes 110

Lunch: I swear I just forgot

Dinner: 1 bowl Campbell's chicken vegetable soup: 100
leftover salami and cheese: 400 calories? 500? 6? who knows? who cares? it's over. I'm sad.

And yet, to quote Lenny from 'The Simpsons' as he plunged to a likely death over the cliff, "I regret nothing......!"


Daily total: 700 ~ 800 ~ 1006 calories

~~~~~~~~~~

yoga 1 hour

treadmill: 2.05 miles 24 minutes

~~~~~~~~~~

net weight gain/loss since last Monday: +3 lbs.

OK. I regret that. I regret that a lot.

pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off

The country has new leadership, renewed purpose and yes, fresh hope. I am happy, simply moved beyond words and will suffer no cynics on this most joyful day. I can only imagine the thrill of all those who chose to journey to Washington for this historic occasion. Today, as I listened to the somber, measured speech of our President and watched an exuberant crowd of millions cheer in a new dawn I thought, it's true ~ we really did do it. I have never been as proud to be an American as I was this morning.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the fitness blog cares naught for parades;
it is Killjoy, the Dick Cheneyiest of blogs
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Precor: 3.57 miles (45 minutes)

treadmill: 3.25 miles (42 minutes)

6.82 miles total

(leg machines - 15 minutes)

~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast: black coffee

Lunch: 1 bowl Campbells soup 100

Dinner: spinach 50
baked potato 105
w/ lots of butter 200


daily total: 455 calories

~~~~~~~~~~

net weight gain/loss (from last weigh-in): +.5

that's plus 1/2 lb since yesterday, after eating just 600 calories.

Conclusion: Hope is fattening. If I get any Hopier, in 3 months I'll be 60 pounds heavier. But chock fulla Hope, baby.

how can we miss him if he won't go away?

As our nation's capitol swells with thousands of cheering, joyful, tearful throngs eager to celebrate a future filled with new hope for our people, restored belief in our leaders and a renewed dedication to the principles of our democracy, there is no place I'd rather be than in Washington DC right now. And there is no place I'd rather be at this very moment than the Huffington Post Inaugural Ball at the Newseum. I hear that place is rockin'.

But, as with all the good parties, I am not there but here, rockin' the PJ's in the dark dungeons of the internets; listening to MSNBC and wishing to the gods that I could at least have a glass of wine, fer cryin' out loud; I mean, what's 110 measley calories when we're making history here people...

So, I'm doing this instead. So far my high score is 9. Remember ~ they break to the left.





We'll miss the laughter, but not the tears. The many, many tears. So long, George.



~~~~~~~~~~~
Torment Today:
~~~~~~~~~~~

the Diet is annoyed that it does not get Martin Luther King Day off
and intends to sue


Breakfast: black coffee

bunch of grapes 110


Lunch: 1 bowl chicken w/ wild rice soup 120 calories


Dinner: 1 whole can Campbell's chicken vegetable soup: 200
frozen peas 100
w/butter 100


Daily total: 630 calories

~~~~~~~~~~

yoga 1 hour

treadmill: 2.05 miles 22 minutes

~~~~~~~~~~

net weight gain/loss since last Monday: -2 lbs.

the fitness blog can hardly keep its eyes open

Last night was date night and yet somehow uneventful ~ no movie, just a couple of Blonde Ales down at the local brew pub, a shared mini pizza and then off to a chain restaurant for a bland tilapia in an overly sweetened pineapple mango salsa. There were a couple of glasses of wine of a distinctly box-like vintage. All in all not a brilliant evening but, as Turk never tires of telling me, we are in the midst of a recession and beggars can't be choosers. Appropriately enough, we were home in time to watch The Office. It all seems hardly worth breaking a diet for. In fact, as dates go this one was pretty unimpressive, from a calorie-countish point of view. Frankly, I don't know if I should even keep seeing this guy. Still, he does make me smile...

Someone sent me this today, and you've probably seen it as well. I don't know who the author is but it's certainly apt and far more clever than I this evening, so in it goes.

Twas the month after Christmas,

and all through the house,

Nothing would fit me,

not even a blouse.

The cookies I'd nibbled,

the chocolate I'd taste

At the holiday parties

had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales

there arose such a number!

When I walked to the store

(less a walk than a lumber),

I'd remember the marvellous meals I'd prepared;

The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,

The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese

And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."

As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt

And prepared once again to do battle with dirt...

I said to myself, as I only can,

"You can't spend a winter, disguised as a man!"

So, away with the last of the sour cream dip.

Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip.

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished

Till all the additional ounces have vanished.

I won't have a cookie, not even a lick.

I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.

I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie.

I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore...

But isn't that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.

Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet.

~~~~
Today
~~~~

gym:

precor: 3.59 miles 45 minutes
treadmill: 1.66 miles 22 minutes

total: 5.25 miles

Breakfast: coffee
grapes 100

Lunch:
grapes 60
apple 60

Happy Hour: oh, the love of...it's Friday! What am I, made of stone?
2 lite beers 180

Dinner: big salad

lettuce 45
onion 40
tuna 300
10 olives 90
1 tbs rice vinegar dressing 20
salad subtotal 505

daily total 905 calories

But, am drinking a glass of wine as we speak...so + 110.

Damn, that adds up.

Diets suck.


net/gain loss since Thursday: -.5

if it's tuesday, it must be baked potato(!)

The excitement never ends.

One of the problems with keeping a daily blog (as opposed to the occasionally bi-monthly format I usually manage) is the fact that it requires me to, you know, log in on a daily basis. I'm just not that good at it ~ I view blog time as another form of indulgence that needs to be kept in check. I am too readily distracted in here, too easily seduced ~ I forget myself in realities in which I have no real place, losing myself in other lives, the product of other people's imaginations.

Keeping a daily blog also encourages me to do a lot more blathering. Is it wise or even rational to want other people to know of one's continual struggles with weight, self-denial and/or bad reality TV? To show sketches of oneself dressed in one's jammies, standing on a bathroom scale?

No. It's unseemly, is what it is. I question my judgment in this as in all things. But of course, I don't know how to stop.

Speaking of questionable judgment, I stayed up watching The Really Desperate Housewives of Orange County again last night. I think it may be some sort of chemical imbalance. And may I just say that Tamra is an ugly, ugly human being?

For those of you who don't know because you have better, more positive things to do, Tamra is a 40-something year-old self-described 'Princess' who, last night, deliberately encouraged another woman, whom she does not like, to get 'stupid... naked wasted' at her etiquette-themed dinner party (Tamra's husband is making her take etiquette lessons...that's right. So she throws a 'formal' dinner party in what appears to be her kitchen revolving around etiquette and tequila...No, I swear I am not making this up). Then, to add creepiness to cruelty, the woman virtually pimps out her adolescent son to seduce the poor foolish creature.

In a nest of vipers, Tamra is a multi-headed Hydra. I would not have been a bit surprised had her eyes suddenly rolled back in her shiny yellow head as her jaws unhinged and the putrid black, pus-filled darkness where once had been her soul came gushing forth. Now that's good television.

Karma, Tamra. Know it. Fear it. It's coming for you. And it's carrying a fish fork.

~~~~~~~~~~~
Yesterday's drama
~~~~~~~~~~~

elliptical machine: 5.77 miles (45 minutes)

treadmill: 2.34 miles (35 minutes)

8.11 miles total

(leg machines - no more than 15 minutes)

~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast: black coffee
1 apple 60

Lunch: 1 bowl Progresso soup 100

Dinner: broccoli 30
carrot 25
baked potato 105
w/ lots of butter 250

410 calories subtotal

daily total: 570 calories

~~~~~~~~~~

net weight gain/loss (from last weigh-in): -1.5

~~~~
Today
~~~~

gym:

precor: 3.69 miles 45 minutes
treadmill: 3.36 miles 42 minutes

(arms)

total: 7.05 miles

Breakfast: coffee
grapes 100

Lunch: grapes 60
soup 100

Dinner: big salad

lettuce 45
onion 40
tuna 300
10 olives 90
1 tbs rice vinegar dressing 20
1 inch cube cheese 110.....subtotal 605

daily total 865 calories

Ok. That's a lot. It was a big salad. I was hungry. And pissed off. Because...

net/gain loss since yesterday: +1

See, I ate 570 calories yesterday. Burned over 800.

And still managed to gain weight.

Seriously. That must have been a whole lot of butter on that there potato.

the fitness blog does not do weekends

Lotus does weekends, but they rarely have to do with fitness. And Lotus never tells.

Well, sometimes she does, but then she usually forgets. In any case, she's not telling this weekend. Suffice it to say that as of this morning she has lost an unexciting grand total of 5 pounds. Her worthy opponent, she is reliably informed, has lost more. This makes Lotus happy for her friendly opponent but sad for herself because she is very competitive, something which causes her to continue to refer to herself in the third person for no apparent reason. Which confuses her mightily, as she has a difficult enough time maintaining consistency of tense and personage under the best of circumstances.

Her head begins to hurt, and she steps away from the keyboard in order to get a grip, possibly on a sandwich.


Breakfast: black coffee

bunch of grapes 60

Lunch: V8 juice 70

Snack: 1 carrot 25

Dinner: 1 bowl vegetable soup 90

1 small salad 245
(lettuce 40
onion 15
Gorgonzola cheese 100
5 black olives 50
2 tbs dressing 40)

Daily subtotal: 490

~~~~~~~~~~

yoga 1 hour

treadmill: 2.36 miles

~~~~~~~~~~

net weight gain/loss to date: -5 lbs.

last night was 'date night'

And to no one's surprise, I fell off the wagon, hitting my head several times on the way down. This is nothing new and to be expected; I may be willing to starve several days a week in the interests of health and beauty but I will never give up my date nights, nor will I give up anything I wish to do on them. I will have my bread and butter and eat them too, preferably washed down with copious amounts of wine or vodka or whatever else is being poured. I will pay the price in poundage tomorrow, or as the case may be, today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yesterday's debacle:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast: black coffee

Lunch: 1 bowl Progresso chicken/rice soup 100

~~~~~~~~~~

Went to see 'Nixon Frost'** ~ excellent movie! I give it 4 martinis and an olive. As a good democrat and proud liberal I never expected to feel such compassion for the ex-President, nor to get so caught up in the drama of events surrounding what I recall as being a rather dull interview. But of course, I was very, very young, and everything was dull. I was but a toddler, I tell you. But I digress.

Turk, who rarely stays awake during an entire film, gave 'Nixon Frost'** a shockingly hyperbolic, "I really enjoyed that movie," thus earning it an Oscar.

snack: 1 large bucket of popcorn 1650/2 = a shockingly hyperbolic 825 calories

And I'd do it again.

After the movie we hit a brand new local wine bar to check it out. Overpriced wine, reasonable menu, depending on who you ask; Turk groaned on about how the place would never make it in this economy. I groaned on about he was always groaning on, and about how we really need a decent restaurant out here in the boonies and the only way to keep one was to patronize it. We argued about economic pessimism and my desire to spend money we don't have.

2 glasses unexceptional wine: 200 calories

I wouldn't do it again.

Headed for the local cheap n' cheerful Chinese:

dinner:

Szechuan chicken: I'm guesstimating here; I don't measure food in grams. In fact, I refuse to measure food at all. A large portion; let's call it 500.

I polished it off. With chopsticks.

and steamed rice 210

2 glasses unexceptional but appropriately priced wine: 200 calories

Jasmine tea

Daily total: 2035 calories

no exercise

Fortune cookie says: you will not be getting on a scale in the morning.

And damned if it wasn't true!

~~~~~~~~~~~
Today's Penance
~~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast: black coffee

Lunch: 1 can V8 juice 70 calories

off to the gym. Take me treadmill, for I have sinned.


** turns out the actual title is 'Frost Nixon' ~ seems I am politically and/or titularly dyslexic

day 3

Ha! Just made it.
~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast: black coffee

1 apple 60

Lunch: 2 celery stalks 10

1/2 tsp. Trader Joe's Red Pepper sauce 10

subtotal 80 calories


Dinner: Big salad:

lettuce 45
black olives 140
w/oil 90
1/2 cup Gorgonzola 400 (?!) Really? looked it up; had no idea. Bugger.
2 tbs dressing 40

1/2 cup homemade pasta sauce snuck from Hub's plate during preparation 65
it was delicious


780 calories subtotal total

daily total: 860 calories

~~~~~~~~~~


elliptical machine: 5.92 miles

treadmill: 2.36 miles

8.28 miles total

(also; arm machines)

~~~~~~~~~~

net weight gain/loss: -3 lbs.

Again, just water weight. Still don't care. Still claimin' it.

Day 2 ~ fitness blog balking

By neglecting to post yesterday, I have already failed in my solemn pledge to be boring on a daily basis. It will not happen again. I plead fatigue and loss of brain power, due only in part to lack of proper nutrition and severe muscle strain. The time I had designated Official Nightly Blog time I instead spent watching 'The Real Housewives of Orange County.' Clearly, hunger has unhinged me.

Seriously, what is wrong with these women? The silicone from their breasts has migrated to their egos, causing them to swell beyond all human recognition, and the botox in their faces has clearly paralyzed their brains, resulting in seizures. How else to explain those sudden crying jags and bewildering catfights? Or the sight of a thirty-something year old woman in a hot pink track suit dancing around the manse screeching with delight over the $65,000 engagement ring her beloved has bought her, even as said beloved lay in the ICU battling cancer? It has to be some form of surgically enhanced dementia. There is no other explanation. Doctors should be called.

So why would anyone in their right mind want to watch this coven of shrieking harpies, their spoiled children and beleaguered husbands? And why can't I stop?

There must be something in the water.

I should drink less water.

Off to the gym.

~~~~~~~~~
Yesterday's Bore
~~~~~~~~~

Precor step machine: 7875 strides

whatever that means. Damn machine was broken and wouldn't give mileage, just strideage.

Look, we have very specific goals here, people, and how are we supposed to know when we hit those goals if you give us distance in miles on the treadmill, in strides on a step machine, grunts per lap on the elliptical trainer and kilometers on the stationary bike? Consistency, please. We are way too hungry to do the math.

I'm calling it 3.60 miles. Who's gonna argue?

treadmill: 2.60 miles

6.20 miles total

(also; leg machines)

~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast: black coffee

Lunch: 5 celery stalks 25 calories

1 1/2 bowls of Progresso/leftovers from yesterday soup 245

270 calories total

Dinner: 2 celery stalks 10
broccoli 30
carrot 22
baked potato 104
w/ lots of butter 200

366 calories total

daily total: 636 calories

~~~~~~~~~~

net weight gain/loss: -5 lbs.

I know, I know.

Water loss, not fat. Still counts. I'm takin' it.

self-flagellation is a bore

And yet, as mad monks and fallen preachers all know, it is sometimes necessary and oddly satisfying. That doesn't mean, of course, that you must bear witness, and in fact I neither expect nor encourage you to do so. By all means, avert your eyes. It only gets worse from here.

For I weighed myself this morning after yoga class, something I have avoided doing for at least a month now, maybe two. I thought I was prepared for the result ~ I know where I've been and what I've been doing ~ but I was not. I was horrified. I was mortified. I believe I may have shed a tear on the ride home. I have been self-indulging to the point of abject stupidity since November (of 2007) and am thoroughly disgusted with myself. I have gone up not one but two sizes in the past year...

I will say no more on the point. I have little patience with whiny mopers who refuse to take responsibility for their own actions. But that is precisely the person I have become; a woman in need of a serious ass-kicking. And she could stand to miss a meal too.

And so, gentle reader, I am once again embarking on the dread Fitness Blog. And again I am sorry, for it never goes well. It is going to be dull. It is going to be dreary. It is going to entertain no one, least of all me. But until I lose this millstone around my neck (and waist, hip and thighs) I will not be worth knowing. I'm sticking with it this time too, because I have a wager on the outcome, and I never lose a bet. Ever.

Rest assured, this is going to bore me more than it bores you. And dudes, it is totally going to bore you.

GOAL: 26 pounds, 3 months, no whining

Day 1:

yoga: 1 hour
treadmill: 2.05 miles, 23 minutes

Breakfast: black coffee

Lunch: 1 apple

Dinner: 1 bowl of tomato/cabbage soup

deep into the nog blog

One of my favorite columnists, Al Martinez of the LA Times has coined a phrase in describing what happens to people caught during times of shared difficulties; We huddle together in bad times, he writes. The spirits snuggle.

I love the descriptive aptness of that phrase, the spirits snuggle. It conjures up images of sleeping puppies, all cuddly and tossed together in soft furry heaps of companionship and warmth. Sometimes, we all just need to feel one another's heart beat. A reminder of our shared humanity, that we reach out to each other with hope, comfort and kindness because without it, there is nothing.

I wish you all the joys of the season. I wish you love and laughter and a cherished memory or two to hold close in the flickering of the candlelight. Most of all I wish you peace, from the bottom of my heart. Happy holidays to you all. May your spirits snuggle.

jager angels

Black leather boots and bustiers. Fishnet stockings, DayGlo orange wigs and more tattoos and eyeliner than Amy Winehouse at a biker rally, it was an unlikely getup for a couple of angels. Yet for all its sexy outrageousness, the Jagermeister shooter girls managed to look innocently adorable.

We were sitting at the bar waiting for our table to open up in the dining room. Turk had talked me into going out to dinner in spite of my reluctance ~ frankly, I am not at all happy with the creeping frumpiness of my appearance. I just want to stay home and hide.

I know. I should be bigger than this. I'm not. I shouldn't care, but I do. I'm supposed to love myself and embrace the older, wiser, more beautiful goddess within. I really can't.

I am, if anything, annoyed with her. It was never my intention to live long enough to look this old in the first place. While all my friends were busy becoming doctors, lawyers and engineers I was working on my 10 year plan to live hard, die young and leave a beautiful corpse. Typically, in this, as in so many things, I failed to apply myself and wound up here, in a nondescript middle age, dealing with this frumpiness, this encroaching Elmer Fuddliness. Fat, furrowed and befuddled am I.

The girls came up to give their pitch regarding the exemplary qualities of Jagermeister. They laughed good-naturedly when Turk, clearly dazzled by such bodacious attention, claimed to be a German prince in exile, pining away for Jager, the milk of his youth. They were really very sweet. Then, leaving us with a smile and the gift of an orange paper-flower lei, they were moving on toward the next customer when suddenly they turned back and one girl exclaimed, "We just have to tell you how pretty you are!" Her friend nodded, beaming.

And so help me Aphrodite, just for a while I felt lighter.

See what I mean? Angels.

My angels carry shot glasses. Like I always knew they would.

is our children learning?

I found this one at Girlyshoes and had to do it because I feel the need to prove that I'm not as dumb as my cartoon looks. I have too read stuff! Just, you know, not a lot of stuff on the list. Also, I don't actually remember all the stuff that I did read, not to mention...

Wait, what was this about again? Oh, yeah ~ me is sure smart! For a toon.

Instructions:

Look at the list and bold those you have read.

Underline those you intend to read. I didn't do this. I don't know how to underline things. Or even un-underline from a quick cut and paste job (see above re: toony smartness.) Let's just assume I plan to read all of them, and will get to Ulysses and Jude the Obscure as soon as I finish the English cozy currently on my nightstand.

Italicise the books you LOVE.

Reprint this list so we can try and track down these people who’ve read number 6 and force real books upon them. (Miz Shoes added that last bit but it made me laugh so it stays in. I'll do a whole 'nother meme on stealing other people's blog stuff later.)

1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling. That's right; I'm the one.
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6. The Bible
7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11. Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12. Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14. Complete Works of Shakespeare
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18. Catcher in the Rye - J D Salinger
19. The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20. Middlemarch - George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25. The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34. Emma - Jane Austen
35. Persuasion - Jane Austen
36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis (See 33.)
37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41. Animal Farm - George Orwell
42. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48. The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49. Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50. Atonement - Ian McEwan
51. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52. Dune - Frank Herbert
53. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68. Bridget Jones’ Diary - Helen Fielding
69. Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70. Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72. Dracula - Bram Stoker
73.The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75. Ulysses - James Joyce
76. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78. Germinal - Emile Zola
79. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80. Possession - AS Byatt
81. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens. Enjoyed it, but loved what Mr. Magoo did with the role of Scrooge in the film version.
82. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87. Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom Seriously. Never.
89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94. Watership Down - Richard Adams
95. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98. Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

rodos

When no amount of begging, pleading and outright bribery could keep us in our cozy Oia cavern for even one more night we reluctantly headed to the tourist agency to book a couple of flights from Santorini to Rhodes. Or, as the handsome young ticket agent corrected me with a twinkle in his eye but a firmness in his tone, Rodos. And so shall it ever be.


The next morning when we arrived at the tiny airport and stood before our plane I actually laughed out loud. Suddenly, I understood the 15 kilo weight limit on luggage. And wished I'd skipped breakfast.

As we climbed aboard the 18 seater we were graciously welcomed by one of the most stunningly beautiful flight attendants I have ever seen in my life. As it turned out, every flight attendant on a Greek airline was female, friendly and absolutely breathtaking.

"I'd like to be the guy who does the hiring for this job," remarked Turk. I couldn't blame him. The requirements for this position must start with a goddess gene in the DNA sequence. In fact, one of the things one can't help notice of is how strikingly attractive the Greeks are as a people ~ young men and women stride the plakas and plazas with the casual insouciance of youth and a beauty that is a pleasure to behold and a tribute to the healthy Mediterranean lifestyle. Aphrodite and Adonis are not just mythology here ~ they're riding vespas and smoking Santes'. I silently regret my own luppen and questionable ancestry.


If Mykonos is an amiable Hedonist, welcoming with open arms the weary voyager and Santorini a winsome, pastel-drenched fantasy carved into the land by fey but determined cave dwellers with a surprisingly sunny aesthetic, the architecture of Rodos embodies a heavier, masculine and somewhat more conflicted history, for all it's inherent beauty. Located at an intersection between East and West, it is an island molded by commerce and conflict as over the centuries knights, Turks and Italians have fought for and controlled the island. All have left their mark and their stories. We stayed within the walled fortress of Old Town for 4 fascinating days and rarely felt the need to leave this thriving city.


To stay in the Old Town is to have one foot in the modern world of cellphones and cycles, nightclubs and credit cards, and the other in the shadows of its very present medieval past.




Upon our arrival we followed the cab driver's instructions through the massive fortress gate and, turning onto the main square, found ourselves in the midst of another bazaar, an explosion of color, sight and sound. As we pulled our cases behind us, searching for the tiny alleyway that held our hotel, taverna hosts beckoned passersby to their tables and shopkeepers into their stores, as travelers fingered fabrics of blue and gold and tentatively inquired about price. It was a moment of timelessness, that feeling that this plaza, this market, this moment has existed just so for hundreds of years ~ travelers arrive, open-mouthed with awe and delight, hawkers flog their wares, children play, money changes hands, life goes on. To experience it is to be conscious of one's own transient role in a continuous flow of humanity. It is marvelous.

We stayed in a charming, traditional hotel perfectly located in a quiet lane just off the main square. Our hostess, 'Irina' was the sole proprietor of the establishment and had done much of the massive restoration on her own. Staying with Irina is a lot like staying with family, in this case, your kind, energetic and slightly bossy aunt ~ the breakfasts are homemade and generous, the wine flows freely. But do not forget to lock up after yourself at night or, as I did, leave your key in the lock inside your room when you come down for coffee. Locksmiths will be called. Irina will be sternly disappointed but forgiving. And you will not do it again.


This being Greece, the gods of the ancient are represented in the ruins and archaeological museums of the town, as well as the religion of the conquering Turks. We did take an afternoon trip out to lovely Lindos to visit the Temple of Athena. Our cab driver/tour guide (they call me George the American!) proved to be an entertaining and colorful companion ~ twice decorated in the Korean War, he was featured on the cover of Time Magazine for his heroism as a soldier. He returned to Rodos, the island of his birth because his wife pined for her home and family here and because her doctor insisted it was the only way to relieve her sadness. She has been happy now for over 30 years. So, I believe, has George.

But it is The Knights of St John who dominate the landscape and the imagination within the fortress walls, heavy with the trappings of a very muscular mysticism and might.




On a whim, after strolling Mandraki Harbor and seeing the many sightseeing boats offering passage, we boarded the King Sauron ferry for a sail to Marmaris, Turkey, feeling rather intrepid and Ernest Hemingway about ourselves.

I don't really know what I expected; after being warned off by our new friends, a couple from Dundee, Scotland who we met staying at 'Auntie' Irina's, I was picturing something just slightly more civilized than the Black Hole of Calcutta, full of thieves and beggars and shifty-eyed men of dubious intent.

What we found was a relaxed and westernized resort town, one of the most beautiful harbors I've ever seen, and some of the warmest, friendliest, most courteous people I've ever had the pleasure to meet. In this one brief encounter, I found myself so loving this place and touched by these people, of whom I had previously been suspect that I was ashamed of myself. It was as though a film had been lifted from my eyes. If there is one thing I will take away from this entire trip it is that ~ that when we let our prejudices and fears dictate our actions we limit our universe and deprive ourselves of the all the wonder therein. An open mind is gloriously selfish thing. It is a key to universal treasure.

I wouldn't have missed it for the world.








We returned to Rodos just in time for sunset. And happy hour in the square.