#77 - chinatown.

why are chinatowns always so friggin full of way too many people & way too many weird smells & general batshit insanity? you might have a chinatown in your city, but i can't see how it could possibly hold a candle to the craziness of nyc's. of course, this assumes that i have no readers in shanghai & that the chinese government would block my blog anyhow.

for those of you who have never been to nyc's version, let me attempt to break down how chinatown works here:

the main street through chinatown is canal st, which runs from the holland tunnel on the west side to the manhattan bridge on the east side. back in the day, it actually was a canal, built to drain a disease-ridden pond into the hudson river. the area near the pond eventually became five points (the area made famous in gangs of new york).

nowadays, canal st is a major commercial way & the sidewalks are filled with tons of chinese people & tables with jewelry & blankets with bootleg dvds & copious bags of trash & slack-jawed tourists walking through it all in a daze, oblivious to the fact that their slack-jawedness inconveniences the other 300 people within the 10 foot radius around them, as those other people are usually trying to walk to other places.

the platforms at the canal st subway station are often scary places packed with so many people that you get the feeling that you (or a slack-jawed tourist) could very easily get bumped onto the tracks & into the path of an incoming train. boarding a rush hour q train here is often as close as you can get to a japan subway-style crush.

throughout chinatown, there's a lot of the same. TOO MANY DAMN PEOPLE! AND BOOTLEGS! AND BINS WITH WEIRD FLOPPING FISH! AND SKINNED CHICKENS IN THE WINDOWS OF PLACES! i don't mind the last three things as much the first.

#77 - chinatown.
snack: walky walky chocolate creme covered pretzel bits
drink: foco dragon fruit juice drink


on saturday, i met up with my brother at hong kong supermarket (in chinatown) & picked up a bunch of stuff, including but not limited to prawn crackers, rock candy that comes in pieces so big a hammer is required & a tag team of dumplings and dumpling sauce.

today, i dug into my chinatown booty. for a snack, i'm having walky walky chocolate creme covered pretzel bits. they're a japanese product & as you can see from the photo above, the packaging is awesome & coffee cup shaped. the bits look a bit like rabbit turds, but they have a nice dark chocolatey smell & the lid of the package flips open like a portable coffee cup, allowing you to drink them as if they were willy wonka's loveable nerds...sort of like a bunch of pieces of chocolate pocky. definitely tasty.

i'm having a foco dragon fruit juice drink, made in thailand, along with the rabbit turds. when i first poured it into a glass, i was definitely a bit frightened, as white chunks & pulp & black seeds of dragonfruit fell into my glass & floated around for a while before settling on the bottom. i'm glad the chunkiness has settled, because that means i don't have it sliming its way into my mouth as i try to enjoy the fruity dragonfruit taste.

in conclusion, the chinese grocery store has lots of weird, scary-looking junk, but some of it actually tastes good...i gotta be honest though...i can't finish this dragonfruit drink. those chunks have officially skeeved me out. sorry, thailand. i don't prefer feeling like somebody forgot to strain my drink.

#42 - trapped in the closet.

so i'm staying in nh at the parents' house for a few days for the thanksgiving holiday. when i visit them, i usually stay upstairs in the bedroom that i shared with my younger brother for 13 years or so. these days, the room is now painted greenish-blue, is much cleaner than i ever remember it & is now referred to by my parents as "the guest room"...& i am now a guest.

since i left home at the end of high school, my parents have been nice enough to store a ton of pack-ratted junk from my childhood. through the years, my mother has got me to whittle down my horde of childhood possessions, but there are still a good amount here & there around the house--some boxes stored in the attic, a few boxes down in the basement & a number of random things in the closet of my childhood bedroom. a quick glimpse into the closet reveals:

bank pseudo-collection - there's a shiny silver piggy bank & a ceramic, hand-painted owl bank, complete with sad owl eyes (that i am amazed never got broke) & a square silver one that pretty much never got used. these banks are where i stashed my occasional scratch & the varied coins from around the world that my dad gave to me throughout the years. this tradition has apparently continued, as this thanksgiving, i watched my 16-year old brother sort through my grandfather's stash of quarters to find alaska quarters for both he & my grandfather's state coin collections.

polaroid camera - during my freshman year at b.u., they had a housing fair, where students would go & visit people at various fold-up tables, checking out the housing options & other campus services. one of my floormates, who was likely tipsy at the time, swiped this polaroid camera (& a porkpie hat that you were supposed to put on & then take polaroids of yourself wearing) off some table...& somehow i ended up with it. the whereabouts of the porkpie hat are unknown at present time.

1984 windham soccer association trophy - i played soccer, baseball & basketball every possible year of my childhood, up until high school, when i became too old for the town recreational leagues. i liked soccer & feel like i was fairly good at it & going into high school, i was planning on trying out for the team...until i discovered that i had to get a physical & for some reason that freaked me out & i didn't go out for the team...end of career...but in 1984, i was still riding high & i (& every other kid in the entire league) got a trophy for my skillz.

hardy boys books - the hardy boys books were the first series of books that i can remember getting excited about. they had intrigue, mystery & titles like the secret panel, the witchmaster's key, the secret of pirate's hill & the tower treasure. reading them eventually led to me writing a short mystery titled "mystery at skeleton's groove," starring all my friends & featuring both a fight scene with our nemeses--the shlack gang--and a concert in the final chapter by our mystery-solving band, the rock-its.

strat-o-matic games - strat-o-matic creates board games based on actual statistics from actual sports pro & college sports teams, with cards for all the actual players, based on how good or bad that player was in the previous sports season, so you could, if you took the time, recreate the 1986 baseball season, for instance. i tried to do this, keeping score of every game & compiling the players' statistics. because of this, i became really comfortable with numbers & learned how to do a good amount of math in my head, as i figured out players' batting averages & stuff like that.

random box containing - roddy roddy piper & the junkyard dog action figures, a new england patriots ticket stub, europe's wings of tomorrow on tape, topps cereal series baseball cards including the much-bearded trio of bruce sutter, greg luzinski & bill madlock, a calculator watch, a view finder reel from jim henson's muppet movie, a valentine from "jenna" (jenna moeckel?) telling me that i'm a great friend & urging me to keep being myself, a third place ribbon from the windham recreation department's family festival, a transformers booklet for evil insecticon shrapnel, a laminated photocopy of jake the snake roberts' autograph, a sketch of a croissant that was supposed to be colored in but wasn't with "33%" written on the sheet in turquoise blue marker...probably the grade i got for not coloring it in.

#42 - trapped in the closet.
snack: mrs smith's boston cream pie
drink: ocean spray cranberry & blueberry juice

a holiday at my parents' house always features a few pies. as far as pies go, i've never ever liked dry-ass pie crusts. eating them reminds my mouth of the feeling i get when i cut my fingernails too short & then pull on a fresh pair of socks, scraping my newly-exposed fingertips against clean cotton. pie crusts are akin to licking a paper towel in my book. you can put all the warm cinnamony apples you please on that pie crust, but it's still fingernails cross a chalkboard, people.

boston cream pie plays by a whole different set of rules though. for starters, it's more cakelike than 95% of pies, which means no dry-ass pie crust getting in the way of dessert time fun & there's just something about the texture of the creamy junk that drives me wild...& how can i not love that chocolate. my mom knows this, so she's always made sure to get a boston cream pie every holiday. tonight, all three present family members asked me if i wanted a piece of mrs smith's boston cream pie. i was all "chill, people. i'll get to my pie." eventually i had one. mmm, obviously.

& there's always some form of cranberry juice in my parents' fridge. i finished off the bottle of ocean spray cranberry & blueberry juice with my boston cream pie. tastewise, i'd have to say it's one of my favorite cranberry blends--not too sweet, not too tart...& it probably helped partially clean out my urinary tract, which is always a beverage bonus.

#27 - my spicy home state.

at the age of four my father & i took a trip from my parents' chelsea, ma apartment up route 93 to windham, nh, where my parents (then aged 25 & 27) were in the process of building their first & only house. as i remember it, he & i walked around on dirt through the shell of the house as men hammered around us. you could still see through the stairs to the second floor, where the bedrooms would eventually be. a house had become more of a priority for my parents, as my now-28-year-old brother was on the way, upping the kid total to three. we would move in soon after & that's where i lived from then until i moved 45 minutes back down route 93 to boston for college. new hampshire sweeping upbringing assessment...good education, boring surroundings. a few nh facts fo yo mind:

- new hampshire has no sales tax, so people from massachusetts come over the border to shop, particularly at our state liquor stores, located both close to the border & directly off the highway, they're like rest areas with no place to pee but a wealth of "the cure for what ails ya"...very convenient for mass area fraternities looking to purchase grain alcohol for tubs of punch...i'm jus' saying is all.

- we host the first state primary, which i think makes us a skew corollary to the color red. bonus political fact...if it wasn't for arizona, we would have been the last state to declare mlk day a holiday.

- we've begat one president...franklin pierce...yes, his actions did result in the creation of the republican party & he is the only elected president to seek the nomination for a 2nd term but not get it & is often referred to as one of the worst presidents ever. thanks for noticing.

#27 - my spicy home state.
snack: lindt excellence chili dark chocolate bar
drink: v-8

turns out that lindt & sprungli (lindt usa) is based out of my home state. stratham, to be exact. just southwest of portsmouth. i'm snacking on one of their lindt excellence chili dark chocolate bars. i've been all about the fancy gourmet chocolates these days. in my book, i figure if i'm gonna need to consume chocolate to remain sane, a fancy imported chocolate bar beats a lame-o possibly-been-melted-in-the-bodega hershey bar any day of the week. gourmet chocolate (& specifically dark chocolate) is the future, people. if you've invested in clean technologies, i'm sorry to have to break that news to you.

omg. so i had been feeling guilty about drinking so much soda & thinking of what i could replace it with & thought about drinkable chili chocolate complements & went for the "tomato/vegetable goodness" of v-8. tomato...chili...sounded right to me...big mistake. i couldn't even get past the half way point of a 12oz glass. v-8 is nasty. i mean, on one level, it is only one letter & 32 numbers away from being a toxic lubricant. at first, i told myself the reason why i couldn't drink it was because i was in the middle of watching true blood (specifically something that happens in the 2nd episode) but it goes deeper than that. i will say it once...tomato juice is good for nothing but creating bloody marys. you can try to tell me that it's good for me. you can try to tell me it'll make me straighter (as if that's possible!). you can call it "splash" and pair it with berries. you can lock me in a room with nothing but v-8 & yoo hoo and i will choose yoo hoo every time.

that is how awful v-8 is. it almost ruined this blog entry...i originally wrote 95% of this on sunday night, but my life was thrown into such a whirlwind by the awfulness of the v-8, that i just couldn't finish it until now, three days later...new slogan = v-8...tastes like puke, but without the vodka & tabasco.