Roller Derby Ruckus

My friend Em took me to my first ever roller derby.  The two teams of fourteen women each, the Derailing Darlings in bright purple and the Misfit Mommas in hot pink, dashed, clashed, stumbled, tripped, fell, elbowed, bumped, hip-checked, cursed, yelled and roller skated their way to raising money for a local dog shelter and to leaving me in a state of awe.

A woman sitting next to me heard my steady stream of questions aimed at Emily, for clarification of the rules and interpretation of the referee's gestures.  The woman next to me, donning a bright purple jersey, quickly asked if I was interested in joining her team and turned around to show me the back of her jersey, sporting the word Coach.

Homerites in Upstate New York

My Homer friends Bob and Emily are currently "displaced" in Upstate New York, living near the quaint community of Oneonta. 

The bus ride here from the city afforded fabulous views of the small towns nestled along Highway 28, as well as the beautiful Catskills. 

As my friends work during the day, I spend time exploring this College and University town, tucked along the Susquehanna river, with its interesting blend of old homes with large front porches and new apartment complexes.

Oneonta, nicknamed City of the Hills due to its grand view of the surrounding Catskill mountains, boasts a population of around 15,000.  Church Street is home to several, well, churches, including Baptist, Episcopal, and Unitarian Universalist, all housed in cathedrals dating between 1895 and 1989.  My favorite haunts to date include the Latte Lounge coffee shop, the local artist's guild and the used bookstores, usual places I devour.

Emily works at the Huntington Memorial Library, aptly named after Henry Huntington who owned, among many other businesses, the Pacific Electric Railway.  A collector of rare books, Huntington donated his homestead and accompanying land to the City of Oneonta in 1917, stipulating it be used as a permanent home for what was then the Oneonta Public Library, and endowing it with a trust fund for ongoing support.  

The building is magnificent, boasting three floors, endless windows on all sides, affording views of the nearby Cathedral and Chesnut Street, the original staircase, an incredible collection of maps, atlases, photographs, postcards and of course, books, some of which visitors have to book advance viewing and wear white gloves to handle.  Marie the Librarian proudly shared that the ghost of Henrietta Huntington visits regularly.  Em's not met Henrietta, and judging by the look on her face while Marie shares her stories, I don't think she's too keen for a personal introduction.

Bob works for the Post Office as a rural mail carrier.  Proudly displaying his new Rural Mail Carrier sign on the back of his 4x4 pickup, he's currently doing this work part time while also helping the owner of a local bbq restaurant with building renovations. The building renovations job came through the side door, when Bob approached the owner offering his services as a bartender, work he's never done, but is eager to explore.  With his outgoing personality and quick wit, I've no doubt that Bob will excel at serving drinks, lending his ear and dispensing advice regulars and visiting patrons alike.

From the warm welcome of my friends and their four-legged kids, to the librarian who knows the father of a Homer couple, to the bank employee who was raised in Homer and whose mother still lives there, to the bus driver who lived in Anchorage for twentyf-five years, to the long, windy road I walk each morning the five miles in to town, I feel quite at home here.

Life 101

Is the life I'm living the life that wants to live me?

This is the question on my heart, as I contemplate this path I'm on: returning to live in New York City, pursuing freelance work, turning down a steady income, being away from my partner and our four-legged kids, getting older, reinventing my vision of myself, and on and on and on...

It's a good question. 

Ah, Sweet Sweet Sugar

Last night, I dreamed I was walking through a forest, where the trees were made of sugar and the hills off in the distance were chocolate cupcakes with vanilla sprinkles. 

In an attempt to feel more energetic and to increase my overhall health, I've been watching my sugar intake.  Normally, watching it means watching myself eating it, but for the past week, I've been severely limiting my consumption of both sugar and coffee.  Once I return to Brooklyn, I'll add dairy to my list of "foods" to stay away from.

A vegetarian since I was 17, I've been lactose intolerant and allergic to eggs since I was a child.  Add these "infermities" to my childhood asthma and ensuing allergies to feathers, fur, dust, dirt, mold, and hay, and I wasn't exactly the poster child for growing up on a rural farm in northern Alberta.  But, there on the farm I was and there I digress.

Hello, my name is Christina and I'm addicted to sugar.

Monday Musings - Life

Life

by Joe Brainard

 

       When I stop and think about what it's all about I do come up with some answers, but they don't help very much.  I think it is safe to say that life is pretty mysterious. And hard.

        Life is short. I know that much. That life is short. And that it's important to keep reminding oneself of it. That life is short. Just because it is. I suspect that each of us is going to wake up some morning to suddenly find ourselves old men (or women) without knowing how we got that way. Wondering where it all went. Regretting all the things we didn't do. So I think that the sooner we realize that life is short the better off we are.

        Now, to get down to the basics. There are 24 hours a day. There is you and there are other people. The idea is to fill these 24 hours as best one can. With love and fun. Or things that are interesting. Or what have you. Other people are most important. Art is rewarding. Books and movies are good fillers, and the most reliable.

        Now you know that life is not so simple as I am making it sound. We are all a bit fucked up, and here lies the problem. To try and get rid of the fucked up parts, so we can just relax and be ourselves. For what time we have left.

Upstate Bound

Another bus trip, this time on the Trailways Bus system, whisks me to the community of Oneonta to spend time with my Homer-displaced friends Bob and Emily.