Japan (ii): Shinjuku, Shibuya, & Ginza (Day 1)

I landed at Narita at around 6pm. One of the first things I realized was that no one was going to be speaking much English to me. Not even the customs agents knew more than a few words. After making it through immigration, I found my way to the JR ticket office where I exchanged my JR pass exchange order for the actual pass. I then bought what I hoped was the right train ticket for a ride into Tokyo (Narita is a 90 minute train ride from the city). It's always a little disorienting coming into a foreign city for the first time. I wasn't going to be able to orient myself until I got to the hotel. There was going to be a lot of hoping I was on the right train or walking the right way during this trip. I followed signs for the Narita Express and waited for a gleaming, white train that arrived exactly when it was scheduled to. The doors were roped off for several minutes while each car was cleaned by uniformed attendants in matching hats before I was allowed on. I stepped on and was whisked off to Tokyo.

Once at Shinjuku Station (where my hotel was), I walked around outside for a bit trying to match my map up with what I was seeing, but after about 20 minutes of not knowing where the hell I was going, I just hailed a cab and gave them my map and was taken on a cab ride for about 5 blocks. After dropping my bags in my room at the Hotel Tateshina, it was roughly 8:30pm. I stretched and headed back out to grab dinner at a ramen shop nearby in the Golden Gai neighborhood.

Golden Gai is a network of narrow back alleys lined with tiny one room bars where salarymen come to drink after work. Above one of these spots is Nagi Ramen, a shop known for its shoyu (soy) ramen flavored with niboshi (dried baby sardines). I climbed the super narrow and steep stairs to Nagi and had my first encounter with a ramen vending machine. Unfamiliar with the protocol, I had to stumble my way through a broken conversation in the tiny space, disrupting everyone's meal, to learn that I had to pay into the machine first and select what I wanted, get my ticket, then go wait outside. Unfortunately, I hadn't had a chance to get to an ATM yet, but a young couple that was finishing their ramen recognized my predicament and offered to lead me to an ATM at a nearby convenience store. The guy didn't know any English, but the girl knew a bit; enough to tell me she'd been to Hawaii and Vegas before. They led me to a Lawson's (which I soon found to be ubiquitous) and I thanked them. I found, however, that the ATM only accepted Japanese cards. I then wandered around a bit looking for a 7-11 because I knew it took international cards. I ran into a black guy that turned out to be a Nigerian that I thought was staying at a nearby hotel. He spoke English and led me to a 7-11. When I came out and thanked him, he offered to show me to "his place" for a drink. I thought he meant his hotel, but I quickly realized as he led me into a tiny back room in a gaudy lobby that he was the proprietor of a hostess club. He opened the door to the tiny, black-lit space and revealed a pair of heavily made up Japanese women and told me it was 3000 Yen for a half-hour of "all I can drink and all I can touch." Stunned for a second, I politely declined and backed my way out of there, but not before being propositioned by a few other Nigerians. I shook my head and ran back to Nagi.

Cash in hand, I waited in an adjacent alley to Nagi that was barely wide enough for me to extend my shoulders. The chef called out the next customer from a tube in the kitchen that led out of the window. When I was finally seated, I was served my beer, a plate of chicken skins, and my ramen. It was probably the most filling thing I've ever eaten. The noodles were extra thick and chewy and the broth rich and fishy. I told people I'd be eating ramen non-stop, but that bowl really made me question my ability to eat as much as I thought I could. I finished what I could and walked the few blocks back to my hotel to crash after a long day of traveling.



The next morning I had planned on going to the Studio Ghibli Museum in Mikata, but I found all of the entry times to be sold out for the entire time I was in Japan. I was extremely disappointed. I tried a few Loppi kiosks in different Lawson's (where you buy museum and show tickets in Tokyo) to make doubly sure, but eventually I conceded and decided to walk through some nearby parks. I made my way to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden and wandered through the pristine lawns with Tokyo skylines all around. There were bird and insect calls that I didn't recognize. Instead of pigeons and song birds, crows cawed constantly and fluttered heavy wings. After a while, I found myself on the other side of the park and wandered a bit through the alleys toward the Meji Shrine in Yoyogi Park.



The streets in Tokyo couldn't be more different from cities in the States. There is zero litter. There are vending machines on every corner. There are more bikes than cars. There's also very little to suggest any form of poverty, save for the occasional rundown shack sandwiched among high rises. Cats often flitted lightly on their paws across the street.

I eventually found myself at the entrance to the Meji Shrine where I found a stone fountain with bamboo ladle and washed my hands there. Just outside the grounds there were souvenir shops, as with everywhere in Japan, and at the bottom of some steps I found a wallet. I opened it and saw it belonged a Caucasian man named George Thomas. I made a few attempts to ask random white guys if it was theres, but that obviously failed. Inside the Shrine on Sundays, there are often ceremonial wedding processions. Wedding parties in traditional garb march slowly across the grounds while tourists stick cameras in their faces. It's an interesting example of how Japanese tradition is preserved, but in such a way that it's just spectacle for a large portion of the population. I'd find this to be the case in many other places.



After the Shrine, I took the train down to Harajuku Station. Before checking out the mobbed areas full of curiously dressed youths, I made by way into the side-streets to find another ramen spot, Afuri. What's interesting about Afuri is that 1) it specializes in adding a slight citrus flavor to its broth and 2) most of the workers are women (ramen is predominantly a male thing in Japan). I had a bowl of shio (salt) ramen with a couple slices of fatty, smoky pork that they grill on a tiny charcoal grill. Afuri is also considered "cafe ramen", meaning it's light and in smaller portions. It made a great lunch. Afterward, I walked a few blocks to Be A Good Neighbor coffee. A fantastic, tiny shop on a corner that's just big enough for an espresso machine and a drip bar. It's designed impeccably with brushed metal and wood everywhere. Interesting looking design magazines lined the counter and a 3rd gen. iPod played music softly over an Apple Hi-Fi (two of my favorite Apple product designs). I ordered a drip coffee that was hand dripped fastidiously. They offered me a tiny glass of chilled grapes with my cup. A subtle, but sublime touch that made the experience so much better. The shop was manned by a charming couple that gave me some recommendations for thing to do in Tokyo in halting English. Mostly museums and art related things. They were more American hipsters than Japanese hipsters.



Speaking of Japanese hipsters, Harajuku is full of exactly what you would envision when hearing that word. There's one particular street lined with shops and is mobbed with young people, mostly girls, dressed in outlandish costumes and with large, bleached hair. They ranged from almost normal looking to completely ridiculous. A lot of the costumes are like what you'd find at Halloween costume store selling slutty versions of everything. There were groups of girls wearing the exact same costume. The last girl pictured takes the cake for just being dressed as a pumpkin that's only slutty because of how short she's wearing it. This is something I noticed among women's fashion in Japan. Everything is extremely short and gives off the impression of wanting to look provocative, but it's an afterthought here with the rest of the outfit being super cutesy. This was also where I first encountered the maddening chorus of intensely nasal, high pitched shop girls calling for people to come in to their shops. For me it was like going to a toy store, finding a shelf of toys with voices, and pressing all of their buttons and listening to 50 toys repeat their prerecorded message. I don't know how those voices make anyone want to buy anything from them.



After a short break back at my hotel, I went out to Ginza. Ginza is the high end shopping district and home to the flagship Uniqlo store, which is 12 stories tall. Yeah. 12 stories. Even more astounding is the Abercrombie & Fitch next door that's even taller. One thing I found interesting, which continues the sentiment of many Harajuku girls wearing the exact same outfits, was that the two Abercrombie models manning the doors were dressed identically in the same plaid shirt and distressed jeans. I mentioned this in my initial post, but it really just kind of makes it feel like even the mentality of counter-culture in Japan is subject to a rigid subconscious drive to control every aspect of oneself.

Before dinner, I went to another coffee shop. Open since 1948, Café de l'Ambre in Ginza is a classic Japanese "kissaten" (coffee shop) and emphasizes mood and the quality of the cup. The sign outside proudly proclaims that they serve "Only Coffee" and that's exactly what you find. There's no food, other drinks, or even milk or sugar to speak of. Select the size of your cup and watch as each is dripped through a cotton filter from a copper kettle into a small copper pot and then transferred to a pre-warmed cup. It's a hypnotic process. I don't think I'm well versed enough in coffee to be able to appreciate the intricacies of the flavors I should have been tasting, but it was terribly fascinating just to watch the man execute his craft.

Afterward, I wandered through the Uniqlo a bit and actually found a few nice pieces, but realized I don't really have the proportions for clothes designed for skinny Asian guys. I then went to get dinner at Yakitori Ton Ton, which sits underneath the train tracks at the end of a long narrow corridor of bars and restaurants. The archway captures all the smoke and echoes all the noise back into the space. It's a crowded, raucous, smoky spot, but the food is great and if I knew more Japanese, I'm sure I'd have had better, longer conversations. I had pork, pork gizzard, chicken, and chicken meatballs. The chicken meatballs were amazing. I ordered 3 more skewers after my first one. I finished my beers and headed back to Shinjuku to crash after the first packed day of many more.



So this ended up being a lot longer and took a lot longer than I had anticipated. Each day in Japan was so packed though, that I don't really know how I can condense or speed it up. I might just have to do 8 more similarly massive posts. I've also not really had a lot of time to rest and recover after my trip, so I'm not sure at what pace I can keep this up. I'll do my best to keep these coming before I forget everything though.

I really just need one or two solid days to just do nothing, but I don't know when that'll happen. Where's all my free time these days?!

A + S

A classmate of mine from BU is in town for a few days. Another classmate is currently working in D.C., but works too much to ever get around to doing or seeing anything. So today involved running around eating/seeing a bunch of usual D.C. things. Brunch in Logan Circle, Eastern Market, memorials, checked out the NY Ave. Beach Bar, and a few other things. While reviewing my pictures at the end of the day, they joked that it looked like a full day following a lesbian couple. I'm inclined to agree. It was unreasonably hot today.



I'm also currently in possession of a friend's 60D for a few days. It's really making me aware of how dated my camera is. The impending prospect of international travel also makes me painfully aware that I am overdue for an upgrade.

Happenings

So life has been fairly uneventful lately. I've more or less settled into the work life routine. I spend my free time and weekends doing things to distract myself. Hiking (see previous post), shows (I saw Andrew Bird last week and he was awesome), planning hypothetical vacations (anyone want to travel late summer?), and eating a lot of good food. Of the last point in particular, I've entered into something a little more official. I've recently become a D.C. area contributor for the food blog, Serious Eats, and I've had a couple of posts up so far. It's a little difficult for me to write in a voice that's not totally my own and for a public audience, but I suspect I'll get the hang of it. I figure, I search out good food and blog about it here sometimes anyway, it'll provide somewhat of a tangible aspect to recreational eating/blogging.



This was what I ate today and will write up for a post for SE's "A Sandwich A Day" column. It's ChurchKey's fried chicken Luther (fried chicken + bacon + doughnut). My post will go up on SE in the next couple of days, so to avoid a duplication of effort, look for my write-up there!

[Edit: It's up here.]

On another note, since I've started this blog, there have been periods of decreased activity during times where I've had a lot of schoolwork or was just stuck in the doldrums of routine. I think, despite my best efforts, I'm in a period of the latter. For all my years of being bothered by this, I've yet to come up with a good solution to this. I'm beginning to think it's my fault. There is, however, one major distraction coming up this week. To avoid outing myself as a total nerd (for those not already privy to this fact), I'll just say, May 15th will be an interesting day.

DTLA, Getty, & Griffith

I was in LA this past weekend. Went without too much of a plan. Gave a few friends a heads up that I was coming, made a few notes of things to eat/see/do, and flew out. The first day I met up with my friend, A, from BU and hung out in Downtown LA and Echo Park. We went to this very cool sausage place, Wurstküche, where I had a pork and alligator sausage. More or less immediately after, we headed to Cole's, which is allegedly the originator of the french dip sandwich. We sat in the darkest corner of the bar for a while to escape the midday heat having a few drinks. Cole's was actually my third lunch that day - before those two I went with another friend, J, to Din Tai Fung. I was told it was the best Taiwanese food this side of Taipei, but I can't say that I could tell the difference. Shanghai Cafe for me any day. Don't judge me.



After my superfluous lunches, we went and hung out in Echo Park, where A used to live. We got super hipster coffee from Intelligentsia, where almost every worker wore a ridiculous hat and looked like they were dressed as Hemingway characters. We wandered a bit, in and out of record and comic shops. Eventually we found ourselves at a Spanish bar, the name of which escapes me. Over some giant margaritas, we witnessed what appeared to me some old Spanish high rollers partying with old Spanish prostitutes while a live mariachi band played in the corner. It was surreal.

The next day, I went to check out the Getty Center. It was beautiful. I always find that it kind of takes the wind out of my sails when I try to photograph something so iconic with 100 other Asian tourists around me with cameras. This is part of why I love nature photography. Photographing a landscape, iconic or not, after a hike feels more earned. Either way, I took a few shots and browsed the galleries. Eventually I took a nap in the shade of a column on the veranda. It was warm and quiet. A humming bird flew by my ear, weaving in and out of the tall stemmed flowers in an adjacent planter. I haven't seen many humming birds in my life. I watched its precise, punctuated movements until it flew away.



That afternoon, J and I went up to the Griffith Observatory. It was right around sunset and the views were breathtaking. The sky was clear and there was a cool breeze. J pointed out that one downside to such a beautiful day was that everyone has the same idea. The observatory was teeming with families and couples



When the sun dipped below the horizon and the lights of the city grew brighter, I couldn't help indulging in some bokeh.



That evening, I linked up with another friend, C, from back home. We went to Pizzeria Mozza for dinner and it was pretty damned good. I had read that Mozza made the best crust in LA and, though I didn't have anything to compare it to, I'd be inclined to agree. C and I caught up over our pizzas and wine, after which, the both of us pretty tired, we crashed relatively early.

The next morning I got up early and flew home. It was a good weekend. Back to the grind in the morning.

Spain (iii): San Sebastian

"Even on a hot day San Sebastian has a certain early-morning quality. The trees seem as though their leaves had just been sprinkled. It is always cool and shady on certain streets on the hottest day."

When we arrived in San Sebastian, it was overcast and much cooler than it had been in Madrid. We wore light jackets as we crossed the town to our hostel by the beach. San Sebastian, like Madrid, is almost unbelievably picturesque. The streets are lined with Parisian apartments dotted with intricate wrought iron balconies. The atmosphere had the tranquility of a place perpetually on holiday. As we emerged on the other side of the town from the train station the street opened up to the small, crescent shaped enclosed beach. An inlet from the Bay of Biscay bottlenecked by two large hills, one topped by a castle and the other by a large statue of Jesus. Even under the clouds, the beauty of this place was almost hypnotic in its ability to make the outside world seem very far away.

"I looked around at the bay, the old town, the casino, the line of trees along the promenade, and the big hotels with their white porches and gold-lettered names. Off on the right, almost closing the harbor, was a green hill with a castle... On the other side of the narrow gap that led into the open sea was another high headland."

We strolled along the harbor for a while admiring the place until dinner. We made our way to the back alleys at the east end of town for our first pintxos crawl (pronounced pinchos - the Basque variation of Spanish uses a lot of X's). Pintxos is tapas, more or less. The main difference is that, unlike tapas, pintxos are traditionally skewered to a piece of bread. The cultural intricacies are beyond me, but pinxtos bars are a lot of fun. Both nights there we made our way to several different pintxos bars and procured a smattering of small dishes accompanied by wine. If you ask me, I couldn't tell you the name of any of the dishes, but most ranged from very good to delicious. Everything is very casual and the crowd usually spills out into the street. The quarters are close and conversations blend into one another. The nightlife ends much earlier than it did in Madrid (12-1am as opposed to 3-4am), but it's a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend an evening.



We began the following day by hiking up the eastern hill to the Jesus statue. It didn't take as long as I had thought it would, but the view from the summit was breathtaking. After taking in the view and taking pictures, we made our way down and stopped at a small hillside cafe overlooking the bay. It was run out of a small hut by a middle aged man and his 3 or 4 dogs. The dogs were calm and socially aloof in the way that only dogs that aren't doted upon and are simply treated as members of a social group can be. Not pleading or unctuous, they regarded us indifferently as we maneuvered about them. As I stopped to take a few shots of them, the owner of the cafe handed me a strip of paper with his email address. He motioned to my camera and then his dogs and, through one of the spanish speaking members of our group, asked me to email him some of the pictures of them. I nodded vigorously, happy to oblige such a genuine request for a simple service that I hope will brighten his day.

While we were enjoying some ice-cold Cokes and Fantas (made with real sugar, as I mentioned before - I drank so much soda on this trip to take advantage of this as much as possible) enjoying another fantastic view of the town and bay, the sun made its first appearance. As the clouds burned off and pillars of light filtered through, color slowly began to creep back into San Sebastian. The sky and water regained their azure clarity. The green in the hills grew lush and verdant. The clay tiled rooftops burned fire red. As we watched the sun warm the town, we grew eager to return to the beach that was so lukewarm the day before. We rushed down the rest of the way and back to the hostel to change. The next few hours were spent sunbathing out on the sand and getting pummeled by powerful, 10 foot waves.



One thing I always hope for is to catch the edge of a weather system during sunrise/sunset. This results in solid cloud cover or empty, featureless skies more often than not, but with the clouds rolling out of San Sebastian, I knew that the sunset would be spectacular. That evening after the beach, we walked around the town for a bit. We found ourselves at a church atop a small hill overlooking the rooftops. From there I could see the water and the clouds that had parted just enough to provide room for the light to play off of them at different elevations producing a wide range of reds and oranges. We made our way down back to the beach, admittedly at my insistence so I could capture the sunset over the water, and I spent the hour there taking it in while the others went to a shop and returned just as the sun dipped below the horizon.



The following morning we caught a bus to Pamplona, this time making sure to leave enough room so as not to repeat the harrowing dash to the train in Madrid. I was sad to leave San Sebastian. It was tranquil and rejuvenating. I don't think I could stay there for longer than a brief time, but it's certainly a place where I'd like to vacation again. At the bus station, we encountered numerous groups of people arriving from Pamplona. Many wore the all-white garb of San Fermin and many of those were covered in splashes of red and pink - an ominous signal of what we could expect in Pamplona. I fully expected Pamplona to be a very different experience than it was in San Sebastian - not relaxing so much as frenetic and chaotic. It turned out to be a bit crazier than I had imagined, for reasons that will become clear in the next installment.

"We drove out along the coast road. There was the green of the headlands, the white, red-roofed villas, patches of forest, and the ocean very blue with the tide out and the water curling far out along the beach... Back of the rolling country we were going through we saw the mountains we had come over from Pamplona."

New York Eats

After having lived in New York City for a time and deciding it wasn't for me, the only reason I ever go back is to eat (and see friends, I suppose). Case in point, I made absolutely no effort to do anything except make it out to different restaurants this weekend. Well, that's not entirely true. The city is eminently photogenic, but despite the brief spring-like day on Friday, winter-fatigue is still deterring me from pursuing any outdoor adventures.

This weekend I checked out several new places. The first, however, was not new. My first stop after arriving was the Madison Square Park Shake Shack. There are few things more relaxing than sitting in the park on a warm afternoon with a burger and fries. All Shake Shack haters should return their friend cards immediately.



Two hours later I had a second dinner at Pulino's. The latest in the McNally restaurant empire of Balthazar and Minetta Tavern fame. It was good bar pizza, but certainly nothing to write home about in NY. Also, it was super yellow inside so nothing came out that well. Brunch on Saturday was at Freeman's. A very charming, rustic "colonial American tavern" hidden at the end of a nondescript alley. I won't really comment on it, since a couple of friends have gone and reported in greater depth here and here. My friend and I got stuck in a dimly lit corner anyway, so I wasn't really able to take advantage of the natural light in the less sequestered areas.



That evening I had dinner at Totto Ramen. Totto is my favorite kind of place to eat. The wait was a bit excessive, but I always prefer the small, intimate places without pretense where the only presentation is watching bowls of ramen being assembled while the other guy individually blow torches each piece of deliciously fatty pork. The ramen itself is comparable to the other NY greats, but the pork was definitely the best I've had. I stopped by Totto's sister restaurant, Hide-Chan, as well, but it was surprisingly substantially inferior.



I also got soup dumplings at Shanghai Cafe before I left. New York represents a dilemma for me. I often don't really want to go, but my stomach wins out. There's going to be a day when I'm too old and tired to care enough to sit on a bus for four hours to gorge myself. Regardless of when that happens, I will come back to visit Dom DeMarco at least one more time before he retires.

Winter Break (iii): San Francisco Eats

Some of my friends consider me a foodie because I like to find new/hip places to eat. This isn't exactly true, since I don't actually know anything about food or its preparation. I just know when something tastes good and is cheap. With some food blogs a part of my daily internet reading, naturally I've cultivated an affinity for non-chain restaurants. That said, most of my trips are planned around seeing and eating things. I already covered the seeing of San Francisco. Here's the eating:



1. The first place I ate was at Katana-Ya, a ramen place near Union Square. Unfortunately the lighting inside was really dim and purple-y so nothing came out that well. I ordered the chasu ramen, which seemed to be the thing. It was good, certainly better than anything in DC or Boston, but paled in comparison to any of the excellent bowls you can find in NY.

2. Lunch the next day was at Farmer Brown's Little Skillet. I'll go ahead and say that this was my favorite meal of the trip. Nothing super complex or fancy, just sublimely satisfying soul food. As you can see, it's just a window shop without any seating. I took my chicken and waffles and walked the couple blocks to the benches by the bay behind Giant's stadium. Sitting by the water with the sun in my face, warm breeze on my skin, and a giant piece of fried chicken in one hand and a waffle in the other just made me smile.

3. I had dinner that night at Una Pizza Napoletana. Having been to Anthony Mangieri's NY shop before he fled to the west, I knew what to expect in terms of the food (which was excellent neapolitan pies), but I really liked the space there. While his NY operation was tiny and cramped, the SF space was very open. Vaulted ceilings and a large cordoned off area for the brick oven and preparation table. It was clearly designed with the intention of exhibiting the art of Mangieri's pie making.

4. Dinnered the following night at The Monk's Kettle in the Mission. The wait for this place was excessive, but the abundance of bars in the immediate vicinity make it easier. Admittedly, the food here wasn't spectacular. Passable, but the main draw was their drink list which totaled to approximately a bazillion different kinds of beer.

5. On my last day there I met a friend from high school for dim sum at CityView Restaurant. Probably the best dim sum I've ever had. Which isn't saying too much, since I haven't had dim sum an extraordinary amount of times. The soup dumplings, however, were comparable to what I've had at Joe's Shanghai/Shanghai Cafe in NY. Needless to say, I ate a lot of them. The catch though, which I should have picked up on judging by the cleanliness of the place, was that it was not as shockingly cheap as I usually am surprised to find dim sum to be upon receiving the check. Still, it was good and I don't regret it.

A good variety. San Francisco is not a bad food town.

317 St. Paul & Beacon Hill

As has been customary, here are a few shots of where I'm living while in Boston:



It's an old building in an old neighborhood. Some oddities remain that show its age, like an intercom system (that doesn't work) that looks like a turn of the century telephone, but it's not without it's charms. I don't think I'll mind holing up here for the next year and a half.



Today, I made it out to Beacon Hill to explore and grab lunch at The Paramount. The afternoon had a bout of rain that produced some very dramatic clouds. It cleared up before too long. Beacon Hill is a quaint historic neighborhood that's very photogenic and The Paramount is a small, but great eatery. I'd definitely go back. I hear their breakfast is excellent. All in all, a pleasant day.

Boston So Far

So, I moved to Boston on August 21 with the help of a few friends. Since then, my time has mostly been spent complaining about the weather, looking for good food, and wandering around the city and the surrounding areas by myself. Thankfully, the whipping rain and miserable heat (compounded by a lack of AC) have given way to the coolness of the onset of Autumn, I've found a few decent spots to grab a burger and pizza, and I've been pleased to discover that Boston is a nice place to walk around. It has the interesting quality of feeling at once decidedly urban and accessibly small. An abundance of historic architecture imbues a sense of history and narrative.



I'd grown somewhat tired of walking around the city by myself and I hadn't started class yet. Without the opportunity to meet and make friends, I'd lost some motivation to continue to explore on my own. Thankfully, a couple of friends, that I knew from elsewhere, were making a day trip on Labor Day to Cape Cod and were kind enough to invite me.



Cape Cod, as it turns out, is beautiful and exactly as I imagined New England beaches to be: clean, serene, and rich white people. Also, Provincetown is super gay. Pink houses with burly dudes in flamboyant costumes dancing on the porch to club music kind of gay. But, otherwise, a nice town.

I started class this Wednesday and it's been an unusual experience. Being in school voluntarily and being responsible for financing it is a totally different experience than it was in college. Also, getting back up to speed mathematically is giving my brain a workout it hasn't had in years. And, wouldn't you know it, instead of doing the readings for my lecture tomorrow, I'm spending time getting this blog back up. Nevertheless, I'll do my best to keep this space updated with the goings on here in Bean Town.

Homework time!