#6: Visit NY's MoMA

This past weekend Kevin and I had a blast on a short trip to NYC, which again just goes to show you how much fun I’m having with this list. We would probably have talked about it, but never actually have taken the time to make this trip without the impending deadline of ‘the list.’ And I’m so glad we did, we had a great time.

First, I have a confession to make… after booking this trip to NYC I checked the MoMA’s website. I knew it stood for the Museum of Modern Art, but what I failed to realize was that I don’t really like modern art. To be accurate, it’s not that I don’t like it; rather I just love history so much more. I realized what I really wanted to see was the Metropolitan Museum of Art. So instead of going to the MoMA, as my list would make you believe, we headed to the Met instead. And again, it’s my blog, so I’ll do what I want!

The Met was amazing. My guess is that Kevin and I saw less than half of the exhibits, it is absolutely huge. But what we did see was fantastic, we spent the majority of our time in the 18-19th century paintings, where we saw Monet, Degas, Dali, Seurat, Matisse, Van Gogh and El Greco. One piece that caught my attention was Jules Bastien-Lepage’s Joan of Arc (1879). This picture doesn’t do it justice, it is awe-inspiring in person. In the image below you can barely make out the ghost like forms of the saints whose voices she heard; in the actual painting it is their halos that stand out, leading your eye to find their hidden images.

After our trip through the Met, we sat at the Rink Bar in Rockefeller Center (where the ice rink is in the winter) for a few drinks. Then we went back to the hotel, changed clothes and headed out for dinner and a show. The show was ‘Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson’ at the Public Theater, and it blew away all expectations. It was a historical, satirical comedy with an emo-punk score, and we were right in the front row for the whole thing. The star, Ben Walker, recently signed on for a lead role in the next X-Men movie (he’ll play Beast), so we’re hoping he makes it big and we’ll say we saw him when!

12 down; 18 to go

#25: Go Camping with no Supplies

I wish I knew where to start on this report. I can’t even find the right words to describe to all of you how absolutely horrible this trip was.

First of all, I’m fairly certain that no one is reading this blog, because I would like to think that someone would have stopped me from going on this god awful trip in the first place. I thought that the hardest item on my list would be skydiving, but that only reinforces my stupidity when it comes to this camping trip. Luckily, I had two friends with me who are either the best friends on earth, or equally stupid.

Kevin, Mike B and I set off for a camping adventure this past Saturday. We started off in Sandbridge, VA to hike our way through Back Bay Wildlife Refuge and into False Cape State Park, where we would be camping for the night, sans supplies. We each had a backpack filled with water, a few protein bars, and a knife. Oh, and sunscreen and bug spray, which are required (you’ll understand why shortly) by the park rangers. That was it for supplies: no tent, no sleeping bags. We were ‘roughing it’ in every sense of the expression.

The hike through the wildlife refuge is 6.2 miles. It’s beautiful, but there was not a scrap of shade to be found. We were being roasted by the sun. There was a fairly consistent breeze being that close to the coast, but when the air was still it felt so heavy it could choke us. There were swarms, I mean entire herds, of horseflies. You could not walk two feet with smacking into them. It would have been pretty had we been standing from a distance. We also saw several different types of birds and a few snakes (ahhhhh!), and the landscape was breathtaking. Or maybe we just couldn’t catch our breath because of the intense heat. We did a poor job of planning this trip, which I take full responsibility for. Earlier in the week, I checked the weather and saw the possibility of isolated thunderstorms and hoped it wouldn’t rain on us. By the time we got to our campsite, I was praying it would rain.

After the first 6.2 miles, we were through the refuge and into False Cape State park. We walked another mile to the Visitor’s center, and found it was air conditioned!! They also had drinking water for us to fill up our bottles. We took a 20 minute break, and then continued on the additional 3 miles to our campsite. By this time I had a raging headache. I was so hot, but the new water was so thick with chemicals and chlorine it made me sick. We had to take several breaks along the way, and I just kept repeating “Don’t give up” in my head. We finally made it to the campsite and I think all of us had a moment of “now what” as we pulled off our packs and sat down at the picnic table. I stretched out in the sand and went to sleep. The boys hiked the last tenth of a mile to the beach.

As I lay in our campsite I thought I might die. My head hurt so badly and I could feel that I was dehydrated, but the more water I drank, the more nauseous I felt. I knew I was suffering from heat exhaustion, but what could I do? There was no way I was able to turn around and hike the 9 miles back to the car. I laid there and fell asleep again, hoping it would pass. I woke up about 20 minutes later and felt worse. Of the 12 campsites at this park, all had been reserved for the weekend. Due to the heat, only two parties actually made it out, and the other happened to be camped right across from us. They walked over and told us that somehow, someway, they were getting out of there—and asked if we wanted to join them. I thought about it, and being with two stubborn Irish boys, I realized if I didn’t throw in the towel, they never would… no matter how bad they felt. I thought about how awful I felt, and considered pushing through anyway. And then I thought, I’m a 29 year old woman suffering from heat exhaustion and laying in the sand with ants, ticks, and flies all over me… and for what, just to prove I can? I told them I was sick and I wanted to leave too. Another few hours went by and finally the park rangers came to pick us up. They told us the heat index was over 110 degrees, and it probably wasn’t safe for us to stay out there.

So you can count this as a success or a failure. Personally I count it as a success, and it’s my blog, so mine is the only vote that matters. I made it through the hike to the campsite even though I wanted to give up most of the time. And although you may not be thinking that’s any great accomplishment, I’m telling you-- you weren’t there, it was excruciating. It makes my upcoming all-inclusive trip to Cancun look that much better.

11 down; 19 to go

#5: Cook Julia Child's Beef Bourguignon

Inspired by Meryl Streep's amazing portrayal of Julia Child in the movie Julie and Julia, or perhaps because of my love of impersonating French accents, I added this one to the list. If you’ve seen Julie and Julia, you know the dish. Beef Bourguignon (boeuf bourguignon in French) is really just a fancy pot roast made with red wine.

Since we’ve been talking about inspirational people lately, let’s add Julia Child to the list. When asked what she thought accounted for her longevity, she answered “red meat and gin.” That’s a health plan I can get onboard with. But more seriously, her best advice is to “find something you’re passionate about and keep tremendously interested in it.” Personally, I’m still searching for that one outlet or passion that I keep just for me, but I’m certainly having fun in the meantime. And of course, it’s never too late to pursue a new passion, Julia was 32 when she started cooking, as she notes, “up until then, I just ate.”

I do enjoy cooking, and over the past year my skills have definitely improved. I particularly love cooking French food, mainly due to the fact that most recipes involve wine. This means I’m required to have a glass while cooking, and it also makes the house smell wonderful. Beef bourguignon was no exception, as you pour the wine into the hot dish it sizzles and a heavenly smell floats up, making even the most novice of cooks feel like a gourmet chef.

Here if the final product, I served it over some crusty French bread rubbed with garlic, and it was exceptional. Also, this gave me a terrific opportunity to start my wine tour (for #26) through France. We had a wine from the Bordeaux region—it was good, but gave me a bad headache the next day.

Bon Appetit!

10 down; 20 to go

Sidenote on Stinkhorns

I had to take a moment to interrupt my normal blogging activities to ask you all…. WHAT IS THIS? What is this disgusting thing growing in my flower bed?

I came out of the house yesterday morning, locked the door and inspected my flowers as I was walking to my car. One of my new additions isn’t doing too well, I suspect it has to do with my neighbor allowing her dog to pee on it each morning. I haven’t yet been able to catch her in the act, but I’ve found the paw prints. Personally, I don’t think expandable leashes should mean that your dog is able to run from the sidewalk into my flower bed. But I digress…

During my quick morning glance, I saw this! This odd looking carrot-ish thing growing next to a azalea. My curiosity piqued, I walked over for closer inspection. It was about 4 inches high, orange, with a brown tip. I was baffled, how could something grow 4 inches overnight?
I drug Kevin out to inspect it as soon as I got home, and he was equally amazed and disgusted. The brown tip I had observed earlier now looked wet and smeared in poop. Kevin bravely poked it with a stick and we found out it was hollow and spongey.

While I made dinner, Kevin googled “what is this orange penis growing in my garden” and found out it is the Stinkhorn fungus, named quite appropriately. It is commonly found in commercial mulch, so after you stock up from Lowe’s you might find some in your garden. It’s not known to be poisonous, but the website cautioned that you shouldn’t eat it. Oh, good, thanks for the warning.

#18: Shoot a Handgun

My friend Joey suggested adding this one to the list and it made it in just under the wire. In fairness, Joe had suggested several items, but most tended toward the ridiculous (swim with polar bears, really?). But he made a strong case for this one, and on the list it went.

I have never shot a gun before, well, as long as we aren’t counting bb guns. Guns actually scare me a bit. I’ve never been a fan of loud noises—or deadly weapons for that matter. I put this one on the list because why not? This list is all about trying new things. And in the off chance I’m ever holding a gun between me and an attacker, I’m sure I would like to know how to use it.

While at my Uncle’s house this past weekend the topic of handguns came up, and when Karl found out it was on the list, a target was quickly put up and ammo brought out. And I was grateful to try this with a trusted instructor, versus feeling like an out of place idiot at a gun range.

First I shot a .22 revolver. I was nervous, not knowing what to expect as far as noise and force once I pulled the trigger. I carefully took aim and fired. And I hit my target, only about an inch down from the bullseye! I fired a few more rounds with the .22 revolver, improving almost every time. Then Karl switched me over to a .22 semi automatic target pistol. The words “semi automatic” are a bit daunting, but I took aim and fired again. Once again I hit my target consistently. At this point I was feeling overly confident, but it was short lived.

My uncle handed me a snubnose .38, and told me I would only be shooting this gun once. He also warned me this one would be much louder than the previous two. I didn’t realize to what extent. Since I only had one shot, I lined up my target, steadied my hands, and did my best to squeeze the trigger smoothly. The resulting sound terrified me. I heard a high pitch ringing, but everything else was muffled and distant. I immediately shied away and handed the gun back to my uncle. I could hear Kevin and Mom laughing, but it sounded like they were under water. I instantly understood those slow motion drama scenes in war movies, where the confused hero loses hearing after a gun is shot too close by.

All in all, I learned I’m a pretty good shot. And perhaps most satisfying, Kevin finally admitted that I might be good at archery—a little known fact I shared with him on our first date and a point of contention between us ever since. But you read it here first… I am both an archery ace and a crack shot!

9 down; 21 to go

#24: Take a Shot with my Uncle

Most childhood heroes tend to fall from grace as we grow up. You find out Santa Claus is more of a spirit than an actual man, not all policemen are good, and even Michael Jordan has a gambling problem. As we move further along into adulthood we lose the innocence and naivety through which we once viewed the world, and we begin to realize that few people can live up to the pedestal we’ve placed them on. But if we’re very lucky (or perhaps still a bit naïve) we can keep just one of those heroes alive.

Growing up, I idolized my Uncle Karl. He was a big kid himself, my own personal walking, talking jungle gym. After visits to his house my “What I did Over Summer Vacation” essays were filled with tales of learning to ride a horse, drive a tractor, fly an airplane, and throw a punch. My Uncle instilled his love of the beach in me, and taught me how to dive under the waves to avoid getting caught in the breaking point. He also taught me how to drive a stick shift at the age of 15, a practical skill I will forever be thankful for. From watching him, I learned the importance of being able to relax, kick back, open a cold one, and simply soak up a day.

More than a teacher, Uncle Karl has been an inspiration too. His life has been far from easy, but rather than complain he found a way to commit to the things he loves and embrace all the moments along the way. As a younger man he taught himself how to play the guitar and joined a band. Later he decided to try Karate and became a black belt. To take it further, he built his own dojo and became a sensei, teaching martial arts to kids. At some point he thought he’d like to fly a plane and rather than simply taking a lesson, he got his pilot’s license. He just doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘halfway’, with him it’s all or nothing. Once he makes up his mind, he is unwavering in his commitment towards his goal, something I have yet to master. In contrast, I feel like I am someone who starts several things, but finishes few; and it’s something I am continuing to work on (and a lot of what this blog is about). My Uncle Karl has unknowingly helped to motivate me in this pursuit.

When making this list I purposely left several of the objectives vague. I wanted to make sure I left enough room in the goals so that I would be able to achieve them all, no matter what came up over the next few months. For that reason, you’ll see open-ended items like “build something” on the list. I didn’t include any particular friends, family members or details, save one. “Take a shot with my Uncle” was put on the list to celebrate our relationship, and all the lessons he’s taught me… and you should never turn down a drink with a role model.

8 down; 22 to go

#8: Take a Swing at the Batting Cages

When I was younger, my brother and I would play baseball in the backyard. We had this perfect diamond layout with a small pine standing as umpire, a large maple at first, a sapling at second, and a young crabapple tree at third. My brother and I, having moved around a lot and used to adapting games to only two players, had adjusted the normal rules of baseball to suit our needs. Our game involved the use of several ghostmen, and a lot of theoretical debates over whether said ghostmen were safe or not.

I was not athletic growing up. My family was not heavily involved in sports, and I was not formally introduced to team sports until high school. For me, my most memorable athletic moments came in that backyard with my brother, when I would hit a ball that would go flying into a neighbor's yard two doors down. It wasn't until years later when I realized we had been hitting tennis balls with an aluminum bat; of course it went flying. But at the time, it was the first indication that perhaps I could try something athletic and not suck at it. Those memories are what inspired me to add the batting cages to my list.

Tonight started as one of those magical evenings that Kevin and I have every so often. He called on the way home to exclaim on what a beautiful night it was and to say he would stop along the way for a box of Rocks. I met him on the patio where we began to casually discuss life and our days in general. One of us came up with the idea of a small game of catch out in the front yard, and we grabbed gloves and a ball and headed out. From there I mentioned the fact that we still needed to go to the batting cages to cross it off my list, and Kevin spontaneously suggested we go now.


As we stepped into the cage I asked Kevin where the helmets were and he informed me that it wasn't really necessary in the slow pitch softball cages. I asked him to evaluate my swing beforehand and I could immediately see from the look on his face that I needed a lot of work. I dropped my token and tried my best. The slowness of the pitch caught me off guard as far as the timing of my swing. Further, klutz that I am, I somehow managed to put the first two fingers of my right hand in the path of the ball during one swing. It hurt and I cursed, but stepped back up to the plate. Kevin tried to give me a few pointers, while I tried through trial and error to adjust my swing. Overall, I found out I am not the prodigy hitter that I had imagined myself at age 7. But I had fun in a "I tried something new and was challenged" sort of way. And that's really what this whole list is about.

***Not my best swing featured in the picture, but it's the only one that came out.

7 down; 23 to go