Lena Makes Like an American and Gives Thanks

Ten Things For Which I Am Grateful (not in order):

Being able to see, speak, hear, etc. A healthy, functioning body.

Friends. Love the lovely friends.

Family. No-one puts up with one’s quirks (or calls you on them) quite like family.

My tan boots.

Central heating.

Long length jeans.

Books.

Faith, hope, and charity.

An interesting job that does not resemble The Office.

My passport.

Chocolate.

If People-Watching Was an Olympic Sport, We’d Be Gold Medallists

You know, you imagine Fashion Week as being all about the thin and glamourous. You imagine people wearing turtlenecks and fedoras, skinny girls preening for whoever might possibly be looking in their direction, over-dressed matrons with over-plumped lips, beautiful young men walking around with their moustachio’d henchmen by their side…and then you’re there, and you realise….it’s ALL TRUE.

I was visiting my friend B in Phoenix, and we headed straight for Mecca (the Scottsdale Mall). After a long day shopping, we sat at a sidewalk café (outside! In November!) and realised that it was Fashion Week in Phoenix, and they were setting up a catwalk right next to us. We stayed there for an unconscionable length of time, basking in the reflected glory of the older ladies gold jewelry. I could describe the outfits but you wouldn’t believe me.

So, B has two of the sweetest kids ever (her 4 year old son wins the Best Smile award, and daughter wins Best Hair hands down). They also have the brutal honesty of their kind – my two favourite quotes from the weekend:

(Playing baseball with T, with mum pitching)
T: Mom, you’re not a very good pitcher.
(Few minutes later, after I switch with her).
T: You’re not a very good pitcher either.
Me: Really – is your mum better than me?
T: Yes. (gives up on both of us losers and goes inside)

and

T: Lena, why are you talking different?
Me: Different from what?
T: You sound different – like you’re speaking Spanish or something.

I also got to catch up with my other Phoenix-based friend, Britt. We took the (surprisingly yummy) cactus tasting tour at the Desert Botanical Gardens, visited the butterflies, then went and sat by her pool (outside! In November!) and caught up on several months of conversation.

I’m surprised I had a voice left by the end of the weekend. One thing I love about old friends is that you can talk for absolutely hours about absolutely anything, switching from trivial to life and death stuff in the same minute. And how doing things like making pie with them can be so very entertaining. And how they have kind husbands who ferry me about the city and take care of the children so we can be giggly and irresponsible. And how they don’t slap you even when you’ve said “I can’t believe it’s November” for the fiftieth time in two days.






Got Cactus? They're surprisingly tasty.


I took more pictures of cacti than friends. That's pathetic.

A Monarch Butterfly

Cacti

Cacti.

Minn. Part Two

The most unique thing about Minneapolis (apart from it being Home of Pilsbury) is the skyways. I had totally underestimated their size and complexity. The wise Minneapolitans, realising that their state was clearly not fit for human habitation in the winter months, decided, instead of flying south to Phoenix for four months, to build streets within the streets and buildings. Go up a flight in the symphony hall, conference center, or large office building, and you find, not just above-ground passages between buildings, but whole indoor streets, complete with Subways and barbers and the like lining them. Their heating bills must be astonishing, but who knows? Maybe the goal is to contribute to global warming and thus obviate the need.

Hell’s Kitchen.

Who could have predicted that Nirvana would be disguised under the name of Hell’s Kitchen? This place was SOOO good. My dear friends B and C took me there on Wednesday, and I went back Thursday and Friday. I had the most amazing lemon-ricotta hotcakes, wild rice porridge, marscapone bruschetta.

After brekkers we got to go and listen to B playing with the symphony- fortuitiously, there was a children’s concert that morning, so I got to go and listen before the meetings. A great international selection of music, complete with Hungarian folk dancers.

We also visited the modern art museum – some great pieces (my favourite being a pair of plastic spheres, one silver, one gold), and the usual random mix of video installations that either depressed or bemused me. I’ve yet to see a video installation that wasn’t completely angst-ridden, unless the one with the man running through the desert alone telling jokes to the nothingness counts, and I don’t think it does.

We followed that up with a delicious dinner at the tres chic Wolfgang Puck place within the museum (restaurants in museums are genius, I’m always starving and sore-footed at the end of them).

The city is very shiny and just-washed looking (in contrast with dusty SL). There’s a long walking street called the Nicollet Mall, lined with shops that we were glad for our bank accounts’ sakes that we hadn’t discovered before the last day. We saw the Mississippi (I have no idea if I’m spelling that right, I wasn’t taught the song at school), and thought about seeing the bridge that collapsed, but were a bit walked out.

And we didn’t see the Mall of America. Sort of as a statement. Sort of.

Oh, and the conference was quite good, too.