Archive: Free Time

Usually, my Saturday plans are to sleep in, watch DVRed episodes of Food Network shows, take a nap on the couch, and maybe try a new recipe, if I’m feeling wild. I like my weekends to be drastically different from my workday existence, and I dread feeling like I didn’t manage to rest at all before Monday morning. Although this past weekend certainly fulfilled the criterion of novelty, I could use another day to recover. See, JG and I spent our Saturday tramping along trails and scrambling over rocks so that we could try to climb boulders. I guess I can’t say that it wasn’t a departure from the norm.

Ten of us met to go bouldering in a stretch of state game land in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, in the township of Haycock. I’ve mentioned bouldering briefly, but the basic idea is to climb up a large boulder that’s usually about fifteen feet high. We look on the surface of the rock to find holds for hands and feet, and because there is no rope, other climbers look out for safety by spotting and cushioning falls with crash pads. Bouldering is one of the most low-maintenance forms of climbing because it requires very little gear: just shoes, chalk, and a crash pad.

We set out in a brisk walking pace on a trail that was more akin to piles of wet leaves than a beaten-down path. I had a tough time keeping up for a handful of reasons: my short legs are no help with fast, all-terrain walking; the rocks in the path were slippery from days of on-and-off rain; and I was carrying almost four liters of (heavy!) water in a backpack that was too large for me. During single-file hikes, I worry about holding up other people with my slow pace, but at the same time, Don’t leave me behind! What if I slip and smash my face on these rocks? I like to think that I am relatively sure-footed, but the combination of the slick surfaces, quick pace, my off-kilter center of gravity, and my vivid imagination regarding injury made me so cautious that I resembled the group’s elderly relative. Had the trip been more climbing than hiking, I may have been less tense and twitchy, but that was not the case.

That said, the climbing was a lot of fun. Even though some of the boulders people wanted to climb were slick from the rain, I finished two easy problems and took scads of pictures. The fog cast a kind of moody light into the photos, and I enjoyed my first chance to try to capture climbing. Everyone seemed to have a good time, and no one got hurt, if we exclude the giant goose egg of a bruise I have on my knee.

After a good six hours of hiking and climbing, most of the group came back to our house for a cookout. We gorged ourselves on burgers and hot dogs (”Hey, we burned a lot of calories!”), took turns on the slackline, and threw quoits while Ted looked on. Even though I had my moments of frustration with the hiking, and it would have been nice to have drier rock, it was a good trip. Our fearless leader is already making noises about a June excursion, so we’ll see what comes of that. For now, I’m happy stretch out my sore muscles, clean off my climbing shoes, and set aside this Saturday to be nice and slow.

Jen and I have had lengthy discussions via Gchat on how we aspire to be “put together.” It’s not that we want to be trendy or have expensive clothes, but we want to look as though our appearance is somewhat intentional and cohesive. We’ve talked about how our wardrobes seem run-of-the-mill and tired, but we don’t know what to do about it. We don’t think we qualify for a fashion makeover show, but we were missing something. Neither of us is totally brand-loyal (with the possible exception of Ann Taylor Loft), but we both believe that knock-offs are fair game, as long as they’re cute. Between finances and unsteady fashion sense, how do we achieve some sort of happy balance?

Lately, I’ve adopted a strategy that I think is helping me progress in this mission toward being put together. I’ve accepted the fact my wardrobe consists almost entirely of solids. I don’t know how to work with prints, and they usually seem too loud to me. I’m comfortable with solids, boring as they might be, so I’m going to stick with them. With a neutral base of clothing, I’ve slowly added in jewelry and shoes to add accent color, thanks to the help of gifts from Christmas and my birthday. Since the purchase is technically a present, I don’t feel as guilty about spending over $30 on a necklace, for example. I’ve found that I’m taking more risks than I normally would, and I figure that a turquoise necklace and flats can do a lot to liven up black pants and a gray sweater.

Yesterday, when I finished getting ready in the morning, I felt so proud of my outfit that I had to IM Jen: “I have to share with you how put together I feel today.” She cheered and made me describe the outfit:

• Black and white faux wrap dress: Ann Taylor Loft, bought with gift card last year
• Black cardigan: Gap, have had it forever
• Chunky cranberry necklace: Ann Taylor, bought with gift card
• Red patent leather flats: Bandolino, bought on sale in DC last summer

I felt cute and chic, like I had finally won a battle with print and color. I tend to err on the side of matchy-matchy, but the necklace and the flats weren’t the same shade of red, so I think I’m improving.

All of this is to say that maybe, just maybe, I have finally built a sense of personal style after foundering for several years. I don’t think I can manage yesterday’s level of put-togetherness every day, but it’s a start. Today’s ensemble is a leafy green top, a flared black skirt, pearl drop earrings, and a pair of paisley flats bought with — you guessed it! — a gift card during a “buy one pair of shoes, get the second half off” sale. I wish I had a long necklace (maybe black or silver) to wear with it, but that might have to wait until another gift card falls in my lap.

Brace yourselves: JG and I don’t use Netflix. I hesitate to bring up this fact because it usually elicits reactions like the following conversation with Ross, from early December:

Ross: heroes is so awesome
don’t get into it or it will destroy your life

RA: I might watch it on DVD
but my Mondays are taken
How I Met Your Mother
it is the awesomest

Ross: really?

RA: really.
you will love.
rent the first season on DVD

Ross: “rent”
wtf?
netflix?

RA: Netflix it
I don’t like to assume that people have it!
I know, that sounded very 80s to me
we still call our local place the “video store”

Ross: you should be my netflix friend!??!

RA: yeah, uh, we don’t have netflix… shifty eyes

Ross: wtf
HOW DO YOU LIVE

I swear, we didn’t always live in the Stone Age. I asked for a three-month gift subscription a couple of Christmases ago, and we baptized ourselves into the Netflix family with a string of movies like Thank You for Smoking, Wordplay, The Shop Around the Corner, and Finding Neverland. With the one-at-a-time plan, we didn’t feel like we always had to watch a movie, but it was nice to have one around. Once the trial period was over, I okayed a full-on membership and started filling up my queue.

I should have realized that I was not a Netflix person when I could only think of about a dozen movies to add to my list. Every so often, a new movie would pop into my head, but everyone else I’d encountered had a queue in the tens and hundreds, not the ones. I am not a movie buff, so I chalked it up to lack of exposure and let the mystical ratings system take hold. I managed to keep us going at about two movie viewings every week, but it was not to last.

Fall came, and along with it, a new school year, volleyball season, a new job, and television premiers. As it was, JG and I just barely managed to keep up with our television commitments, thanks to the magic of DVR. Meanwhile, the unwatched DVD of For Your Consideration taunted me from its red envelope on the coffee table. We finally pulled the plug after several weeks of no movie-watching. JG reasoned that it wasn’t worth even the $10/month because we could get a movie for three bucks at the rental place; I agreed, but I was more relieved to escape the guilt of a backlogged queue.

These days, that move has somewhat backfired with the onset of the writers’ strike and a gloomy dearth of new television episodes. I could have Netflix-ed past episodes of Heroes! We could have seen all of the movies we missed over the summer! Oh, well. I suspect that Netflix is a summer thing for us, anyway, when JG spends more time at home, and we’ve had our fill of terrible reality television. Perhaps we will just take periodic dips into the 21st century pool.

If it’s any consolation, I’m considering finally joining Evite. Maybe.

In college, JG and I used to throw together semi-spontaneous game nights in a common area of our dorm because we were, and still are, the consummate party-hardy types. (Ahem.) Depending on the number of people, there would be several areas of play going on at once: Catch Phrase, Dutch Blitz, and spades made appearances, but I inevitably huddled on the floor to play Cutthroat Anagrams.

I learned to play this anagramming game during a summer college program I attended during the summer before my senior year of high school, and it played to my strengths so well that I was on a constant mission teach others how to play so that I could whip them. I mean, I wanted to spread the joy of a fun game…

Uh, anyway, the game is pretty simple, and it works best with at least 4 people:

• Dump Scrabble tiles onto the floor and arrange them so that all of the letters face down. Players should circle up around the tiles.
• One by one (we usually go clockwise), players flip over the tiles in the center. If a word (3 letters or longer) can be formed from the exposed tiles, a player can say that word, take those tiles out of the center, and arrange the word in front of him. That player then flips the next tile.
  - For example: If C, A, and T, were all flipped over, the first person to say, “cat” or “act” would take those tiles out of the center. Ties are generally settled by popular consensus of who was first.
• As players continue to flip over tiles, they can form words from both the letters inside the circle (as above) and words that others have made — hence the cutthroat aspect. There are no limitations on the number of times a word can be stolen.
  - For example: If someone flipped over a K, a player could steal CAT from the player who claimed it and anagram it to form TACK.
• If a player flips over a blank tile, put it aside; they are not included in play.
• Play continues until no additional words can be formed. Players tabulate their scores by counting up the Scrabble values of the letters in their possession. Letters remaining in the center do not count toward anyone’s score.
• Limitations on word formation:
  - Words must be at least three letters long.
  - Words must appear in the Scrabble dictionary to be valid. If a word is challenged successfully (i.e. the word is proven to be fake), the letters return to where they started.
  - Anagrams cannot include derivations of the original word.
  - - For example: CAT could not be stolen to form CATS. DATE could not move on to form DATED. However, it would be legal to anagram CAT to CART and DATE to FATED.

There were several regulars who enjoyed the game as much as JG and I did, and we had a good time talking smack and coming up with new word combinations. I was not known to be particularly competitive, but when I played Cutthroat Anagrams, I was rather ruthless. I shouted my new words loudly, so as to drown out any other potential rivals. In the event of a claiming tie, I found that if I swiped the letters right away, people would generally let me keep them. I sat in the circle on my knees, perched right over the tiles so that I could afford a good glimpse of the newly-flipped tile. My posture earned me the nickname, “the Vulture,” which I interpreted as a sign of admiration.

On one occasion, I taught the game to a newcomer, but I wasn’t sensitive to the fact that I was somewhat, uh, overzealous in my energy. Anagramming didn’t come easily to this new girl, and I showed no mercy as I swept up tiles left and right. I remember stealing a word from her with a triumphant “HA!” and pouncing across the circles to gather my prize. In a low voice, JG said to me, “This is why people don’t … never mind.” Okay, whatever.

At the end of the round, the new girl got up from the floor shakily and said, “I think that’s enough of this game for me, but thanks for showing me how to play.”

Is this what JG meant? This is why people don’t what? Don’t want to play with me? They don’t want a challenge? It’s not my fault that I know that the ZOO will most likely go to OOZE and then OZONE. If she just played longer, she’d get it, too.

But I knew that I wasn’t as gracious as I could have been. I tried to dial down the Vulture mannerisms for other newcomers, despite the fact that it was perfectly obvious that we should be looking for a sequence like CAT, CART, CRATE, TRACED, DETRACT. Right? Totally obvious.

#53, 54

Sunday Scribblings #88: Competition