Attitude of Gratitude

Gorgeous night for watching game

A few weeks back I was supposed to go out on a hot date (and by “hot date” I mean I won a bet with a friend of mine, about the Friends sitcom no less, and the winner had to buy dinner), when another friend called to ask if I wanted to go to a Red Sox game. Hmmmm…. Conundrum. Do I take the free dinner or go to my first Red Sox game. Red Sox vs Toronto it was.

Closed off street for the party

Going to a Red Sox game is not just going to a baseball game. It is an EVENT. (Much like going to Disneyland is not just an amusement park, but the GREATEST PLACE ON EARTH!) I had no idea. After living here a year I really should have realized that all the excitement and activity around each game was because of something, especially since the last 5 years games have been completely sold out. Truth be told, I really did not know what I was missing.

When you get there, there are people milling around everywhere. There are scalpers and beer booths and Sox trinket salesman and food vendors abound. They close of the street of one side to really get the party going. This is where you go for expensive Red Sox paraphernalia, expensive food (hot dogs, pizza, popcorn, ice cream, peanuts, etc) and expensive beer. And all this is before the game even starts.

One the game starts, the entire place is chatting and relaxing like one big family. Everyone is your friend at a RS game (at least where I was sitting).

My neighbor's hairy arm

During half time, we wandered around and took part in the festivities and ate hamburgers and drank terribly expensive beers.

And the excitement really kicked up when , in one quarter, they had 4 field goals, including one by Big Poppie. This was a huge deal since he is having marital issues and hasn’t scored so far this season. They ended up winning and didn’t have to go into overtime.

This was way more exciting than watching the kids play baseball in the park (even though the referee did get hit in the stomach with a ball and was down and out for a good while, which was mildly amusing.)

Because there is an average of only 12 minutes of action in a baseball game, I had plenty of time to look around and observe. I noticed this glass was everywhere. I asked my friend what it was for. His response: foul balls. Really? This little bit of glass is preventing the entire area from getting hit by a foul ball. I didn’t buy it, so I asked the attendant. His response: To stop people from falling over the edge if they fall while they are walking UP the stairs. Ummm…. Okay? How many of you fall BACKWARDS when you are trying to walk UP the stairs. Not too many.

Mysterious "falling up the stairs" glass

My personal opinion (which was my opinion from the start, but wanted to get someone to confirm it), is that they had too many drunk arse’s fall DOWN the stairs and fall over the railing, and wanted to prevent this from occurring in the future. Now, I don’t know this for sure, but I’m betting my next paycheck AND a hot dinner date that I’m right on this one.

More glass

Yesterday the strangest thing happened to me.

I was waiting for a friend outside his house and I saw a nearby bird perched on a fence. I decided to go over and take a closer look because I found it odd that it was just sitting there and not moving at all, even though I was fairly close. I walked over and looked at it and it still didn’t move, which I really found strange. It just stayed there, eyes closed, not even noticing me. I saw it was a Blue Jay and wondered if it was a baby or something because I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t afraid of me.

Soon after, there was a swooshing of a bird near my head (as a warning) and a Blue Jay to the other bird and started feeding it. Ah, it is a baby. Makes sense now. I was fascinated by nature – watching what appeared to be the father bird feeding the baby bird. It would feed it something, the baby would drop it, and the father bird would swoosh down to the ground and pick it back up again and take it to feed the baby, when the baby would drop it again.

This happened over and over and I was standing there watching it all unfold. Suddenly, something very sharp hit me very, very hard in the head. I was completely stunned and started rubbing my head because it hurt. From across the street a man asked me if I was okay. I said I was, but asked what had hit me. He said it was another Blue Jay that attacked me.

I was completely shocked and discombobulated and he kept asking me if I was okay or not. I said I was fine, but I would go into my friend’s house and check my head.

I rang the bell, and he buzzed me in, and as if right on cue, blood started running down my face. I was completely shocked. My head was pounding and I was in shock and trying to get up the stairs. I was wiping the blood off, but it started gushing out at an alarming speed and was dripping all over my shirt and on the floor.

When I got to my friend’s house he asked if I was okay because he could hear the guy outside talking to me. I said that I was attacked by a bird and then he walked around the corner to see blood gushing down my face and exclaimed, “Oh my god!!!”

He gathered some towels for me and I asked him to try and see where the wound was so I could apply pressure to stop the bleeding. He told me that my hair was completely matted with blood and that there was no way to see where the injury was without me washing my hair. A few minutes had gone by and the blood was no longer flowing down my face, so I decided to wash out my hair, which filled the entire bathtub with blood.

He examined my head to find that the cut was… wait for it… miniscule. I cannot believe that such a small cut could create such a huge amount of blood. I have never bled like that before and was a bit freaked out, honestly. We put some antiseptic on it and cleaned it up and went on with the day.

It was like this, but worse!

But now I’ve decided that when I walk around outside I will wear a hard hat and carry a shotgun for good measure.

Anneke and I outside the absolutely fabulous restaurant

This weekend I decided to head off to NYC to visit with some great friends that I haven’t seen in ages. One was a guy friend whom I know from Amsterdam where we met in a gay bar. The other is my girlfriend, Anneke, that I know from work when we lived in DC, who lives in NYC now but only for one more week, when she will move back to DC. Make sense?

Anneke had asked if I wanted to get a massage at Yi Pak in Koreatown during my visit, and that sounded right up my alley. I’ve been traveling quite a bit and when I found out it were just over $100 for a 2 hour massage, I was sold. I wasn’t quite sure what I got myself into, however…. If you remember my Turkish bath experience you’ll understand where I’m going here….

We signed up for the two hour package, which included:

• Shower
• Steam Sauna
• Full Body Scrub (Exfoliating)
• Facial with Refreshing all natural cucumber pack
• Hair Washed and Rinse
• Finishing Rinse
• Dry Sauna
• Full body Massage

When we got there, we were asked to strip down to our birthday suits and put on one of their very fashionable paper thin robes. We were then shuffled into a completely tiled white room (no, really, completely tiled - floors, walls, and ceiling) that had showers on the walls, white plastic massage tables in the middle, and water around everywhere in buckets and tubs. This is a place that sees a lot of water.

As soon as we stepped into the room we were invited to take off the flimsy robe that we’d just put in (why did we even bother?), and get under one of the showers and wash off. They then had us go into a small room that housed a hot, humid sauna where we were to lie down on towels and sweat for the next 10 minutes or so. I must say that it felt very much like a full lifetime because it was so damn hot in there, especially as hot droplets rained down on you from the ceiling.

At the point of nearly losing unconsciousness, we were asked to step out into the big room by Korean ladies in very sexy bras and panties and asked to lie face down on the plastic massage tables in the middle of the tiled room. Trying to navigate onto this table is somewhat difficult given that it is soft plastic and we had a thin coating of slippery sweat on our bodies. Oh, and we were very naked, did I mention that? Any ideas of modesty fly pretty immediately out the window when you enter this place.

After getting a quick soaping by the woman it is then washed off by buckets and buckets of warm, relaxing water, and the “full body scrub (exfoliating)” begins. I was a little stunned when it first started, because I was sure that I was being “exfoliated” by a hard wire brush, but come to find out it was merely sandpaper she was using to sheer off the top layers on my skin. And she was a true professional! She not only scrubbed once, but at least 2 or 3 times over every nook and cranny of my body.

And that was only while I was lying on my stomach! After about 20 minutes on that stomach and getting sloshed all over with warm water (to wash away the layers of skin sluffed onto the table, no doubt), she had me turn to my side where the torture continued, but now on the more sensitive parts of my body, and with even more wild abandon! No rest for the weary, she made sure every area was scrubbed down several times. More water. After side #1, I had to flip to the other side, and then finally on my back, where I am sure my entire body was a bright red from being rubbed raw. (Anneke said I actually had welts on my back – I believe it!) You are completely soaked during all of this.

You then get a cucumber mask applied to your face. Now, this was interesting. Usually when you get a mask it is some kind of clay based mask or even a smooth mask that is applied to the face and left to dry. This mask was actually more like a cucumber salad, chunky and feeling like 2 or 3 crushed up cucumbers had been applied to your face. When she was applying it she had to do it in sections to get it to stick, and I could eventually feel clumps running down my face and falling onto the massage table. I must say, I was pretty hungry at this point and it smelled so good I was tempted to actually lick some of the chunks off my upper lip. I was able to contain myself, but only because I knew we were going to the absolutely fabulous French restaurant, La Grenouille, for dinner right after this.

Finally we are allowed to get off the table – again, very carefully – because you are so damn slippery and a little discombobulated from having your skin scrubbed off – and go under the shower. I swear, when the water spray hit my body it felt like needles piercing my skin.

After that, I went hopefully over to my robe to cover my lobster red, naked bruised and battered body, but was quickly swatted away to go sit in the dry sauna now. After sitting in there for 10 or 15 agonizing minutes and again becoming covered in sweat, I came out to finally be able to put on my robe. For about .5 seconds before I had to take it off again for the massage.

Ah the massage…. We are whisked into a dark “couples” room where our now clothed and somehow completely dry Korean ladies are there to dry us off. (At this point I’m wondering where I can get one of these women to help me during daily cleanings.) I am instructed to lie face down on the massage table and am expecting a very relaxing soft massage, after all, these ladies aren’t that big.

Well, first off, the moment the massage oil came in contact with the gaping welts on my back it hurt like all getout. And on top of that, this woman was up on the table and straddling me to put all her weight into crushing her elbows into every muscle on my back. Pure torture. And that was only on the first side!

By the end of it all, I was covered in massage oil and everything was sticking to me, and I had to get ready to go out to a fancy restaurant with my fresh raw red skin. Most embarrassing. But I must tell you, it was one of the most pleasurable things I’ve done in a long, long time. I would do it all the time if I lived in NYC (and had enough layers of skin to handle it). You end up with the smoothest, softest skin, and completely relaxed. I would highly recommend it, hands down.

I was later able to ask a guy friend who has been there if they got treated by woman in bras and panties. Yes. And did they get a happy ending? Apparently for the guys, they touch “sensitive” places and ask, “Is this okay?” before taking it to the next level. I’m just wondering why they don’t offer that service for the women? We deserve the same treatment as men!!

But the wonderful day didn’t end there. We immediately followed this up with some fine dining with friends at La Grenouille. I really wanted to go here because it had sweet breads and fois gras on the menu, two of my all time favorites.

It is rated as one of the top 10 restaurants in the city, and had impeccable service with servers running around the restaurants like ants, immediately taking your plate and refilling your glass. The food was phenomenal. I had the sweet breads to start, the duck as a main, and the chocolate soufflé for dessert. The portions were quite big for a fancy restaurant and I wasn't able to finish either my main or my dessert, which was a shame because it was totally delicious. The atmosphere was also nice, with everyone dressed up (jacket required) and a fancy and sophisticated art deco décor. It reminded me of the nice restaurants in Paris. Delightful end to a glorious day.

It was followed up last night by an impressive early morning lightning and thunderstorm. And that might be an understatement. I actually thought the storm was inside the house, it was so loud. It reminded me of the storm in Ghostbusters when they were about to encounter the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. It was ominous and scary, even for a grown adult. But I wouldn’t know anything about that. ;-)

It was great to see my friends in NYC and I appreciate Anneke's hospitality and letting me crash at her place. I cannot wait to go back!

Dracula biting me

The only thing I knew about Romania before I went there was the Dracula was from there. I got really excited to find out that one night we would have dinner at the Count Dracula Club, where you have dinner and Dracula himself makes an appearance for a short show.

Once arriving in Bucharest, you find out much more detail about Dracula – how his name was actually Vlad Tepes – or Vlad the Impaler – and that he had been a fearless and brutal ruler in the 1400’s. He had apparently spent several years as a teenager in a Turkish prisoner where he was tortured by unspeakable means. This led to him then showing them the same respect when they attacked Transylvania, and apparently staked them through the anus in such a way that it hit none of the vital organs and took the prisoners two excruciatingly long days to finally die. Meanwhile, he enjoyed having his lunch while watching them flail around. Not a pleasant thought.

That aside, the Romanians seem to think quite highly of him. He was the first leader ever able to actually fight off perpetrators and have them stay away. I don’t know, but the stake story alone would keep me as far away as possible.

Palace of the Parliment

But the respect they apparently have for Vlad does not translate over to their nearby neighbors, the Russians. The Romanians have nothing good to say about them at all, and in fact are quite negative towards them. The fact that their country was clearly torn apart at the hands of communism appears to play a large part in this. In the 1980’s, the communists led by Nicolae Ceausescu, leveled thousands of beautiful homes and buildings to put in large, communist style bloc apartment buildings. The most prominent of which is the Palace of the Parliament, which was built at the cost of razing 1/5 of the city. It is enormous, with 330,000 sq meters, and is the 2nd largest building in the world after the Pentagon. Additionally, Ceausescu starved his own people in order to pay off the debts of his country. He exported most of the agricultural and industrial products which caused a drastic shortage throughout the country. He had many grandiose schemes in mind that thankfully were never brought to fruition, but the results are still evident throughout Bucharest.

This is the back of the Palace of the Parliment - all looks well from the front, but unfinished behind

Places everywhere under construction

For example, we saw huge one story buildings that had been built solely for the intent of having the inhabitants go there for meals. There was not enough food so they wanted them to commune in one place. One of my peers who is the same age as me remembered that you could only get 1 kilo (2.2 lbs) of meat PER MONTH. It was also difficult to come by sugar and fruits. Sounds very much like how my dad describes the situation during WWII in England. The Romanians also had rations on electricity and TV was only broadcast for two hours a day. And this was just a few years ago! It makes me really grateful that I’ve never lived under these conditions, but also gives me the feeling that people today feel quite entitled and don’t understand real suffering.

Romanian countryside church

Romania still seems to be struggling with this dark history and there is no escaping the lingering effects: grey Communist style high rise apartments, third world type construction everywhere, and obvious poverty (stray dogs and gypsies). I was told by my co-workers that they have only really had the money to purchase cars since about 2000 (so THAT is why they drive like complete maniacs!) Much of the city is in bad repair and in need of a makeover. That said, the parts that weren’t destroyed during the war or during communist times are quite beautiful and there are some wonderfully amazing sites throughout the city – quaint Orthodox churches and sculpted historic buildings – of course, surrounded by poverty and litter. But if you look past it all, you see a city struggling to resuscitate itself, and can certainly see why it was once called the “Paris of the East”. It has an amazing amount to offer.

The lovely Mamaliguţă, a corn mush

The food, however, is not one of them. A typical meal consisted of starters that included fresh vegetables (cucumbers, tomatoes, green onion, for example) and a variety of cheeses. And then the main was well done, overcooked meat. And lots of it. On several occasions I was presented with wild boar, venison, and bear!!!! Usually we are worried about bears eating us, but not in Romania! They also have a traditional food called mamaliguţă, which is a cornmeal mush that is traditionally served topped with a very strong sheep’s cheese, and sometimes a homemade sour cream. If that description doesn’t turn you off, I don’t know what will. I made the mistake of ordering that as my meal once. I can tell you, it wasn’t good! I think I may have lost that 5 lbs I’ve been working on!

Historic Stavropoleos Church

Generally, though, I found my trip to be absolutely delightful. I would love to explore more of it, and discover more about the private, highly religious people who seem to be struggling to rebound from their past. I would definitely go again, to observe a cultural evolution occur before my eyes.