How the Other Half Flies

Let me start by stating something obvious: Flying sucks less when you're in First Class.

Is the captain pouring coffee?

I never fly First Class so I had forgotten that it was any different. I am pretty ambivalent about flying in general -- don't hate it, not scared of it, but certainly don't love it. Sometimes flights can be excellent for being productive/getting work done or catching up on reading. But sometimes you end up next to a crying baby or a chatty weirdo who wants to play 20 Questions.

When I was kid, I flew First Class a handful of times with my parents on long flights. The first plane ride I recall was when I was 6 and traveling to Switzerland. I sat next to my mom in the roomy leather TWA (R.I.P.) seats. I don't remember much about the flight, but I do remember receiving a chocolate-covered Oreo before take-off (presumably a bribe to keep me on my best behavior during the 7-hour flight) and thinking that the tray tables that came out of the arm rest were funny-looking.

Ever since I've been buying my own airfare, I have always opted for the cheapest seats available. I don't have long legs, so I don't even splurge for the EconomyPlus extra legroom seats. Just good ol' coach. With the rest of the non-rich plebes. I have to admit, I didn't get the allure of First Class -- we all arrive at the same destination at the same time. Okay, the First Class people get to get off first (and get on first, but I don't see the advantage of that. I want to minimize my time breathing recycled air in a confined space). And I suppose the ratio of lavatories to people is better, since they have their own bathroom that's off-limits to the masses.  

However, due to the generosity of a friend, I was able to experience First Class as an adult. And while I still don't think the extra expense is worth it/necessary, I have to admit, it made flying enjoyable as opposed to just a way to get from A to B. 

First of all, the getting-on-early has the perk of a free pre-flight drink. That's pretty nifty. Though if you get something alcoholic, you have to down it pretty quickly, which may lead to regret. Also, in First Class, the flight attendants make a point of knowing your name. It's like Cheers, at 35,000 feet. Pretty much everything in First Class is free. Oh, and blankets and pillows are still available, like in the old days. 

Speaking of the old days, apparently First Class used to be much more glamorous. A friend recalls on a flight to Hawaii watching a stewardess (they weren't called Flight Attendants back then) carve a prime rib roast right in the aisle mid-flight. That was sometime in the late 80s. Hot food is pretty much non-existent on most flights nowadays. And if there is food, it's not gratis.

My conclusion is that I think my money is better spent on things other than first class airfare. Traveling is already mighty expensive (remember when it was free to check a bag?) and for a little more comfort for a few hours, it doesn't seem justified unless you have truly disposable income. Still, it was a fun glimpse of the other side of the blue curtain. Which, for what it's worth, I agree with Kristin Wiig that it should be kept open "because of Civil Rights."    

Wine Country

A week ago, I returned from one of the best trips I've taken. I traveled with my Dad to Napa and Sonoma. We went to visit wineries since wine is a passion we share. It was a delightful 5 days spent in the company of one of the best people on the planet. And now I'm pleased to report that my wine rack, for the first time ever, is at capacity. I've got a great rack.

Some photo highlights:

Zinfandel at Acorn Winery in Healdsburg


As you can see, we had really shitty weather


Petite Syrah vines planted in 1890 at Field Stone Winery


Barrel tasting at Alexander Valley Vineyards


Our last lunch in Napa at Oxbow Market


The amazing view at Cuvaison in the Carneros Valley

Obviously, it was hard to come home from this trip. I learned a lot, drank a lot, and got to spend some QT with my old man. Who's actually rather spry and crafty -- on our first day, he charmed a proprietor at Ravenswood into giving us a $55 single-vintage 2007 Zinfandel for free. We drank it that night, in front of the fireplace at the hotel. I've said it before on this blog, but in light of this trip, it merits being said again: I'm a lucky gal.

Continuing Education

This January, I'll be leading my first poetry workshop, at the Cambridge Center for Adult Education. I'm very excited about it and intrigued as to what kinds of students my course on formal poetry might attract. It is Cambridge after all, so it's fair to assume I'll be teaching an eclectic assortment of characters that might include any or all of the following: MIT physicists, freegans, retired opera singers, cutters, Tea Party enthusiasts.

I will be paid a very small sum, but can take a class for free as part of my payment. Here are some of the options I'm (somewhat) seriously considering:

French Regional Cooking

Enjoy a hands-on introduction to traditional dishes from many different provinces in France. We'll prepare recipes showcasing the widely different styles and tastes of provincial cooking. Learn to make mussels with hard cider and cream from Normandy, kirsch soufflé from Alsace, tapenade from Provence, coq au vin from Bourgogne, pork with prunes from Périgord, potato gratin from Dauphiné, and clafoutis (cherry flan) from Limousin. In each class, we will prepare a complete meal from appetizer to dessert. At the end of the evening, we will share the meal and stories of France.

Zut alors! That all sounds delicious. I have no stories of France really to share, except about the time several members of my a cappella group contracted scabies from a hostel in Paris. Probably not the best dinner conversation.

Fine Wine on a Tight Budget

Yes, you can get a great-tasting bottle of wine for under $10. Learn how to evaluate the mystery wines in the 2-for-$16 bin, pick through the closeout rack, and recognize a bargain when you see one. The instructor will share his favorite discount wine sections and the secret wine graveyards where the great wines go to die. Italy, Chile, Argentina, South Africa, Spain, and Portugal all offer prospects, but so do France, Germany, and the United States. We'll sample a variety of wines; please bring three wine glasses to class.

This class would make navigating the bargain tables at Blanchard's easier. If anyone tries to make me drink Yellowtail Shiraz, however, I'm out.

Divorce in Massachusetts: With or Without a Lawyer

The class would probably be dull, but it might be a swinging place to meet men and/or lawyers. Though actually, the last time I dated a lawyer, it didn't turn out so well. Never mind.

Beekeeping

The class will give an overview of urban beekeeping, covering a brief history of beekeeping, bee biology, and getting started in urban beekeeping. We will go over the basics of beekeeping, types of bee hives, equipment needed to get started, locating the hive, options for getting bees, starting the hive, first-year activities of the beekeeper, products of the hive, and resources available to new beekeepers, with the ultimate goal of participants being able to start keeping bees on their own next spring.

This appeals mainly for the randomness and because of how funny it would be to add beekeeper to my growing list of professions (teacher, waitress, poet, beekeeper). Also, pretty excellent for the Special Skills section on a resume -- I'm awesome at Powerpoint, Excel, Word, oh yeah, and BEEKEEPING.

White People Challenging Racism

Examine the impact of white privilege and how being unaware of that advantage helps perpetuate racism. We'll discuss short readings and share everyday situations in which we did not speak up against racial bias. Using role-playing, we'll develop effective ways to respond. We'll focus on the role of white people in dismantling racism and building a just society. You'll develop specific plans for challenging racism in your workplace, organizations, community, and personal circles, as well as be encouraged to find other people in your life who can provide support and serve as allies in your efforts.

I'm just flummoxed that such a course exists. The title implies that the class is only open to white people...if only there were a word to describe prejudice based on race...OH WAIT. Knock, knock: who's there? Irony.

Intentional Travel: Where in the World is Your Life Telling You to Go?

Where do you need to travel, be it by armchair or hitting the road? The places you need to visit for personal history, spiritual grounding, or fulfillment may not be where tour guides take you. We travel to have our perceptions altered and to discover what we didn't know we were searching for. We may travel in pursuit of a personal vision based on our life story. And we travel to be surprised and delighted by a latent self waiting for this moment to arrive! We'll share travel experiences, research specific destinations and itineraries, and design maps of future travels. Bring a travel-related book and journal.

...Intentional travel as opposed to unintentional travel, like being sent away to prison? My life is definitely not telling me to go to this class. I honestly think the person who wrote this might have been high. My "latent self" is very amused.

In all honesty, I'm leaning towards either taking a class on Moby Dick because I've never read it (and might never read it on my own) or an intermediate cooking class. My parents actually met in a class called "Cooking for Singles" so perhaps I'll also fall in love while learning some snazzy knife skills and how to poach pears in wine.

Away we go....

This is my last blog post before embarking on an 18-day journey to China. I depart on Thursday morning and officially have entered the extremely excited-yet-nervous phase.

I'm traveling with the Yale Alumni Service Corp (YASC) and the main purpose of the trip is to volunteer in Xiuning County, which is in the Anhui province. Xiuning (pronounced "Shu-ning") comprises 9 towns and has a population of 274,000. It's located about 5 hours by bus west of Shanghai.

The YASC is organizing a summer camp for the kids of Xiuning -- I'll be helping with chorus and book club. There are a ton of different activities being offered, from photography to harmonica. Over 200 people, all somehow affiliated with Yale, are going. Many are traveling with spouses and kids -- I'm going solo. But like a contestant on Survivor/Top Chef/The Bachelor/any reality show would say, I'm not going there to make friends.



I'm going there to WIN. WIN CHINA. Well, not really. And of course, I hope to socially connect with at least some of my fellow travelers. But if I don't, that's okay. The resort where we're staying in Xiuning has its own karaoke bar, so I'm sure I can keep myself occupied there.

After a week of volunteering in Xiuning, the group flies to Beijing for three action-packed days of sightseeing (The Great Wall, Tiananmen Square etc). Then I will fly on by myself to Hong Kong for the final three nights. For the detailed itinerary, click here.

This trip is coming at just the right time for me -- I have been feeling stalled professionally and personally and an international summer adventure will hopefully invigorate me for the fall.

And now, some amusing Mandarin idioms, courtesy of Chinese for Dummies:

gua yang tou mai gou rou: to display a lamb's head but sell dog meat, i.e. to cheat people

da ao jing she: to beat the grass to frighten the snake, i.e. to give a warning

che shui ma long: cars flowing like water and horses creating a solid line looking like a dragon, i.e. traffic

Hu shuo ba dao: to talk nonsense in eight directions, i.e. to be full of crap

I will have internet access for most of the trip, thanks to my iPad...not sure if I'll have time to blog, but I'll do my best!

Winning things is better than losing things

The Vagnino Monologues is (are?) BACK!


My thesis has been submitted and I have taught my final class of the semester. Now I can get back to blogging and reading things other than my own poetry. Very exciting.

The title of this post is pretty master-of-the-obvious, but still, it's not often that I enter into contests and win them. But recently, Lady Luck has been smiling on me and I have to say -- winning? So much more fun than losing. Y'all should try it.

Win #1: Scholarship money for my trip to China.

In February, I applied for financial assistance for my July trip to China, organized by the Yale Alumni Service Corps. I had to write a brief essay about why I would be an asset, and what skills I bring to the table (karaoke?). I also submitted my tax return, as evidence of my poverty. And lo and behold, they are giving me $1600, the maximum award amount.

I can hardly wait for this trip. I will be staying most of the time at the Smoky Willow Resort in Xiuning, a rural town in the Anhui Province. I really hope I get to stay on the Ladies Floor:

"Specially designed for the female guests who prefer the most peaceful and quiet environment that they so enjoy when being alone, the Ladies Floor section is located in a separate building hidden behind the main hotel block. In addition to the excellent views through the windows, each room and the common area are designed with the fine touch of feminism suited for today’s women with their discerning taste for fine quality of life."

YESSSSSS!


Win #2: A bottle of Jim Beam "Red Stag" whiskey

This I won at Lineage, as the champion of the first-ever edition of Lineage Jeopardy. Lineage Jeopardy was created to test the staff's knowledge in five categories: wine, beer, cocktails, food, and service. I dominated the wine, food and service categories, answering questions like "this herb tastes like green apple" (what is sorrel) and "Gruner Veltliner is traditionally from this country, but the one on our wine list is from this region" (what is Austria and Monterey, CA).

I'm not much of a whiskey drinker, but I figure I should have some booze at my place that's not wine, for guests who are not fellow winos. And look, Kid Rock likes Red Stag!

And obviously, it's my goal in life to emulate Kid Rock in every way. My skeevy goatee is growing in nicely.


Win #3: An all-access Chrome pass to Boston's IFF (Independent Film Festival)

As an Elite Yelper, I get the chance to enter contests every so often. This past Wednesday, I happened to be on Yelp and see that they were giving away a film festival pass and all I had to do to enter was answer a question, which was something along the lines of "what can independent films offer that mainstream Hollywood movies do not?" I wrote something about untidy endings and subtlety and talked about the movie "Once." And voila! I won the pass -- I can attend any and all movies this weekend and get priority seating. I also can go to the after-parties, all of which have open bars and free food.

Last night, I saw the narrative feature "On the Ice," a somewhat grim morality tale about an accidental death that haunts a small town in rural Alaska. Tomorrow I'm seeing the new Miranda July film, some narrative shorts, and a documentary about an artist that reanimates skeletal animal remains using robotics (?!?!)

On the topic of movies, I also recently saw "The Room," written/produced/directed/starring Tommy Wiseau. It was a life-changing experience that warrants its own post, so look for that soon.

It's good to be back, friends! Hope you'll keep reading the 'Logues! Zai jian! (that means see you soon in Mandarin)

Thirty and Flirty and Thriving (?)

I've been listening to this song a lot lately -- "I Don't Feel Young" by Wye Oak, an indie folk group currently touring with the Decemberists.

As some of you know, I turned 30 on Tuesday. And it's true -- I don't feel young. This felt like a significant birthday. I was nothing but excited about it for the months leading up to it; I'm optimistic about the next decade and what it might hold. And yet, the day before my birthday, I suddenly felt a little panicked and sad. My 20s are over and what do I have to show for them?

Well, I don't have a great answer for that. But I don't think I wasted them entirely. I spent most of them in New York, the last few years in Boston. I've definitely had a lot of....adventures. I'll probably have some in my 30s, too. Also, according to my stepmom, in my 30s I am allowed to wear more outrageous outfits and larger jewelry.

And as for my gift to myself? I am actually doing none of the things I wrote about. Psych! However, the solo trip to Spain received the most votes and I am doing something similar -- I'm (hopefully, pending some scholarship money) going on a service trip to China for two weeks in July. I'll spend one week volunteering in a rural province outside of Shanghai and one week sightseeing in Beijing. I'm super excited about it and feel it's a great thing way to travel and also give something back.

In terms of the birthday itself, the day was largely uneventful. It started with my printer deciding to no longer work and almost making me late for a meeting. After my meeting I got a manicure, a fun new haircut and threw myself a party at Marliave, which was a blast. Friends from Lineage, Emerson, and Funkin' A! all represented. This weekend, I'm headed to New York to celebrate with college and post-college friends.

This blog is 2.5 years old and I'm 30. Hopefully, both are getting better with age. I'll conclude here with a great Kenneth Koch poem, a wistful and funny ode to the decade I just exited.

To My Twenties

How lucky that I ran into you
When everything was possible
For my legs and arms, and with hope in my heart
And so happy to see any woman
O woman! O my twentieth year!
Basking in you, you
Oasis from both growing and decay
Fantastic unheard of nine- or ten-year oasis
A palm tree, hey! And then another
And another (and water!)
I’m still very impressed by you. Whither,
Midst falling decades, have you gone? Oh in what lucky fellow,
Unsure of himself, upset, and unemployable
For the moment in any case, do you live now?
From my window I drop a nickel
By mistake. With
You I race down to get it
But I find there on
The street instead, a good friend,
X—- N——, who says to me
Kenneth do you have a minute?
And I say yes! I am in my twenties!
I have plenty of time! In you I marry,
In you I first go to France; I make my best friends
In you, and a few enemies. I
Write a lot and am living all the time
And thinking about living. I loved to frequent you
After my teens and before my thirties.
You three together in a bar
I always preferred you because you were midmost
Most lustrous apparently strongest
Although now that I look back on you
What part have you played?
You never, ever, were stingy.
What you gave me you gave whole
But as for telling
Me how best to use it
You weren’t a genius at that.
Twenties, my soul
Is yours for the asking
You know that, if you ever come back.

(Emotional) Baggage Claim

I like everything organized and in its right place. That does not make me an anal control freak. I just think everything should be neat and tidy at all times. Is that really so much to ask?

I just like to let it all hang out. I'm a little all over the place.

Ok, so maybe I'm a little on the small side. Size isn't everything! Just give me a chance. Once you go carry-on, you never go back.

I'm fucking indestructible. Hard as a rock. Impenetrable in every way. Try to hug me and you will hurt yourself so BACK OFF.

I've been used a lot and I'm worn out. And if that's a problem for you, well, fine, why don't you just get some shitty shiny thing on wheels. I don't need you anyway.

I like to blend in. Black is the new black. Maybe I'm a little boring and safe, but you know what? Actually, I don't know what. I'm a dime a dozen. Love me?

I'm so hot and sexy. Tell me how sexy I am. Really, don't you think I'm sexy? I'm sexy, right? RIGHT? Oh, and did you see my Dolce & Gabbana tag? Just making sure you noticed that.

Hup Holland!

I've now been back from Europe for a week and I'm experiencing the classic post-vacation slump. After looking forward to the trip for months, I miss....looking forward to it. But the good news is, it was everything I hoped it would be and I have amazing pictures/memories, some of which I will now share on this blog. Below are the highlights and insights from my week-long trip to the Netherlands and Belgium, in Top Ten list form!

1. Dutch sounds and looks like a made-up Muppet language.

It's very easy to read Dutch, because it looks like a hybrid of German and English. Some of my favorite words:

winkel = store
eethuis = restaurant ("eat house")
slagroom = whipped cream
graag = please
wijn = wine

Spoken Dutch sounds similar to German, but with more enthusiasm and inflection. German is kind of like Dutch, minus the joy.

2. Witnessing two World Cup victories (quarter- and semi-final) almost made a sports fan out of me. I mean, this is infectious:




3. Dutch is not one of the world's great cuisines. Though I did enjoy stamppot, a traditional dish consisting of mashed potatoes, endives, bacon, and sausage. And in Belgium, things improved culinarily:


Yes, that's a gigantic pot of mussels. The frites weren't bad, either, though I still prefer them with ketchup as opposed to mayo.

4. Sexual Chocolate (Coming to America):


vs. sexual chocolate (Bruges):


5. European train stations are about 3,000 times cooler than American train stations. Case in point: Antwerp.



6. You are not supposed to take pictures in the Red Light District, so sadly, I don't have any. I will, however, share this tidbit about prostitution from one of my guidebooks:

"If you visit one of the women, we would like to remind you, they are not always women. Do not take pictures of the women. Out on the streets, do not shout or use bad language towards these women. Show some respect. If you have any problems with a girl or a pimp, do not hesitate to ask a police officer. We know why you are there and you can hardly surprise us."

Another guidebook gem, re: urinating in public: "A dirty habit, and always committed by men."

7. Hash + Van Gogh Museum = stellar combination.

8. The oldest gay bar in Amsterdam, Cafe 't Mandje, was opened by a lesbian named Bet van Beeren:


9. You can buy actual wooden shoes in the Netherlands

10. Everything is prettier when you're on vacation

Heaven and Hell

After a month-long unannounced hiatus and severe site-traffic atrophy, the Vagnino Monologues is back!


I have an epic post planned about my week-long trip to the Low Countries (Holland and Belgium), but first, a little theosophical musing. About death and what happens after it. Because while it's fun to blog about pet owls and bikini waxes, sometimes I feel the urge to think about things of substance, things with gravitas.

Before embarking to Europe, I wrote a lengthy paper about Don DeLillo's postmodern masterpiece White Noise. All of the characters in the novel are obsessed with death -- one character even takes a risky experimental drug that is designed to alleviate the fear of death. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it -- aside from its philosophical headiness, it's very funny and a fast read.

So yeah, death. Truthfully? I think I think about it less than most folks. Of course I wonder what it will be like and am as shocked as anyone when someone unexpectedly dies and is just....not around anymore. I am more afraid of scenarios in which I know that I am going to die right before it happens. Not like with a terminal illness, but like in a plane crash or car accident or with a gun pointed at your head, where you are conscious and alert, but have to try to rationally process/reconcile your impending non-existence. That is terrifying.

Of course, I hope there is an afterlife. I like to think that heaven is a chic cocktail party with an open bar, great live music and neverending passed appetizers.

Or heaven might look like this:

(This was my favorite shoe store in Amsterdam. I almost wept when I walked in.)

Or if heaven isn't a shoe store or a fabulous cocktail party filled with friends and handsome strangers, I think it should be some sort of virtual reality-type situation where you get to relive all your favorite life moments. That would be pretty neat.

I'm a firm believer that hell involves travel gone awry. Some possibilities:

1) Hell is an airport (and not one with good duty-free shops and a Wolfgang Puck restaurant). Your flight never arrives and also you cannot leave. Your bags are lost. There is nothing to read except Women's Health and Golf Digest. The drinking fountains are all broken and bottled water costs $3.25. You are forced to eat stale slices of sbarro and watch Today Show reruns with the sound turned off.

2) Hell is the Amtrak Waiting Area at Penn Station. The A/C is broken. The smell of urine is omnipresent. Your train is continually delayed. Bathroom is out of order and covered in yellow crime scene tape.

3) Hell is the Port Authority Bus Terminal. Fill in your own horrifying specifics.

Or maybe Sartre had it right, that hell is other people. But not all other people -- just the most annoying, obnoxious contestants/personalities from reality television. How would you like to spend eternity making conversation with the cast of A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila?


I rest my case. (Also, does Tila Tequila look like a Bratz doll in that photo, or what?)

I guess the ultimate irony would be if heaven and hell are precisely the cliched stereotypes we associate with them -- angels and harps vs. fire and demons. So when you arrive, you're like, "Seriously? For reals? Ugh. I'd rather be in Port Authority with a man who sleeps next to a bag of his own trash. At least that's ORIGINAL."

Jet-setting

Ok, first of all, apologies for not posting in over a week. Sometimes, you know, life intervenes.

So, I recently filed my taxes (on my own, using TurboTax) and got a larger refund than I was expecting. Instead of doing the responsible thing and paying off a chunk of my student loans, I have been buying plane tickets and planning frivolous trips. I love to travel, so it's a good thing I picked such a lucrative career. I mean, basically every cover of US Weekly features a millionaire poetess sunning herself in Belize.

Where am I going, you ask? Well, in a little under two weeks, I'm going to Chicago to celebrate a friend's 30th birthday. I will be in the Windy City for about 48 hours. Which sort of makes the trip absurd, but the birthday boy in question is one of my closest pals from childhood and just finished a tour in Afghanistan. Yep, I'm playing the he-is-in-the-army card to justify this trip. Also, I can stay for free with a friend....so at least I'm saving money in that regard.

Next trip: St. Louis in May. I know what you're thinking, that these Midwestern destinations are not exactly exotic. But again, it's a birthday worth traveling for -- my Dad's 65th. I missed his 60th fete, which was a margarita-infused, karaoke affair that was so raucous that someone called the cops. Yes, the police made an appearance at my father's 60th birthday. That's just how my family rolls. So I'm thinking 65 is going to be even more insane.

But here's the vacay I'm really looking forward to: Amsterdam in July! Haven't bought my tickets yet, but I have the dates picked out (first week of July). I have never been to Amsterdam. And I haven't been to Europe since 2003 (I'm so underprivileged!). I hear Amsterdam is a cultural mecca, chock full of museums and lovely architecture. I swear, that's why I'm going. To appreciate the architecture. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. The fact that I will be able to legally buy and smoke weed in public establishments did not factor into my decision at all. I AM A LOVER OF ART AND CULTURE.

Ok, gotta run to class....I'll try to post more frequently because I know, I know life is so dull without my pithy entries to brighten your days. God, it's great to be important.

On the road again

I recently joined Zipcar. Because like Rain Man, I am an excellent driver. And while I claimed during my five-year stint living in New York that I didn't miss driving, it was a big lie.

I was not always a good driver and I'll also amend my statement to say that I am an excellent driver....when no one else is in the car. I get kind of nervous and distracted when other people are present. But on my own? I'm focused and pretty awesome behind the wheel.

My early driving days, however, were not so impressive. The same day that I got my license, in fact, I got into an accident. Not with another car -- with the garage attached to my parents' house. We had a tricky driveway/garage angle and because I had scored a 96 on my driving test, I totally thought I had it in the bag. But it was nighttime and as previously discussed on this blog, spatial relationships are not my forte. I managed to wedge my dad's Toyota Camry into the side of the garage and since he was already in bed, I had to wake him up and have him unwedge it. Not the best first day of driving.

But hey, I've never gotten a speeding ticket. I did once get a ticket for making an illegal turn, but that's my only moving violation (unless you count the time I totaled my Dodge Neon...but that was only half my fault). In college, I successfully drove a 16-person van from New Haven to Washington, D.C., which I think is kind of gangsta.

But honestly, it's not so much the driving that excites me about becoming a Zipcar member -- it's the freedom. Already, I feel like my life has been infused with possibility. I can go anywhere, at a moment's notice. On Sunday, I drove to Connecticut to have dinner with a friend. Just...because I could. My next trip, I think, will be to Amherst to visit Emily Dickinson's homestead. And who knows where I'll go after that. Life is a highway and I'm gonna drive it all night long.

Puerto Rico, you lovely island

This song was stuck in my head during my entire trip:



I have to disagree with Anita; I think I prefer San Juan to Manhattan in most respects. I hiked in the El Yunque rainforest, swam in a waterfall, went kayaking by moonlight, drank numerous cocktails garnished with umbrellas, ate mofongo at a street kiosk on the beach, listened to live music at La Placita, played exactly one hand of Blackjack in the hotel casino (and lost $5), and swam in jellyfish-infested waters, resulting in the red blisters described in my last post. I was not stung, but I have an allergy wherein if I swim in the vicinity of jellyfish, I break out in hives.

One of the trip's highlights was walking around historic Old San Juan, which is populated by tons of stray cats. Noah and I created a game called "Spot the Gato" to amuse ourselves while wandering the streets. Behold:

And my favorite, Maude's Puerto Rican doppelganger, Maudefongo (or TeleMaudo):


Sadly, we did not spot any chupacabras. Unless you count this:


So to sum it up, I would highly recommend PR as a vacation spot. The locals are incredibly nice, renting a car is comically cheap ($22.80 for an entire day), and there is a lot to see and do on the island and plenty of beautiful beaches to relax on, if that's more your style. And thanks to the economy being in the shitter, we got a great deal on Cheap Caribbean . Gracias, financial collapse!

Sorry for the unannounced 2-week hiatus

Blog!

I have not forsaken you, despite the evidence to the contrary. I've been traveling....and there's a big post coming soon about my trip to Puerto Rico, a.k.a The Enchanted Isle (or "Echanted Isle" as one poorly edited website called it).

For a little teaser, I will say that it was a great trip, with just the right balance of physical activity (hiking, kayaking, salsa dancing) and lounging around by the pool and on the beach. And of course, it wouldn't be a Vagnino vacation without a Mysterious Medical Ailment! In addition to my tan, I have come home with approximately 117 itchy red bumps, mostly on my forearms. Can you guess which of the following is to blame? (Answer to be revealed in the next post)

A. Mosquito
B. Jellyfish
C. Poison Ivy
D. Chupacabra
Tune in soon for photos and more details....

On Comfort and Convenience

Below is a re-creation of a scene that took place at Logan Airport on July 16, 2009.

Katie, a short, spunky brunette carrying a duffel bag, approaches the ticket counter.

KATIE: Hi, I'd like to check in?

UNITED AIRLINES AGENT: Great, can I see your ID?

Katie hands over her driver's license.

UNITED AIRLINES AGENT: Would you like to upgrade to Economy Plus for an additional $39?

KATIE: Um, what is the difference between Economy and Economy Plus?

UNITED AIRLINES AGENT: Five more inches of legroom.

Pause.

KATIE: That's it? Five inches?

UNITED AIRLINES AGENT: Yes.

KATIE: Then....no.

THE END

$39 bucks for 5 inches? And according to United's website, it might not even be a true 5 inches:
"Economy Plus is an exclusive area of 6 to 11 rows in the United Economy® cabin, offering up to an additional 5 inches of legroom."

United is all about offering incentives to its various tiers of frequent flyer membership, like the ability to not wait in line to check-in and get priority on standby lists. And of course, the privilege to get on the plane first.

But I've never understood why pre-boarding is such a big deal. I hate being on planes; they're cramped and always smell kind of stale. I like to minimize the amount of time I'm on the plane; ideally, I'd board last and get off first.

And the special elite separate line for Red Carpet Club Members? It's right next to the pleb line. And unless you're the only Member on a given flight, which is unlikely, you're going to have to wait in it. That's right, you're going to have to WAIT YOUR TURN TO BOARD LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.

On my last trip, I got to sneak a peek at the Denver airport Red Carpet Club because my friend Jon is a Premier Executive or something. It was nice -- they had free fruit and copies of the Financial Times which I did not read.

What I did read was David Foster Wallace's brilliant essay on our culture's obsession with luxury and comfort, entitled "A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again." Wallace chronicles his experiences on a 7-night Caribbean cruise, where people pay thousands of dollars for the privilege of being waited on hand and foot and doing absolutely nothing. The essay is hilarious -- I'll conclude this post with his description of the high-tech "fascinating and malevolent" toilets in the cabins:

A harmonious concordance of elegant form and vigorous function, my toilet has above it this sign:
THIS TOILET IS CONNECTED TO A VACUUM SEWAGE SYSTEM. PLEASE DO NOT THROW INTO THE TOILET ANYTHING OTHER THAN ORDINARY TOILET WASTE AND TOILET PAPER.

Yes that's right a vacuum toilet. And, as with the exhaust fan above, not a lightweight or unambitious vacuum. The toilet's flush produces a brief but traumatizing sound, a kind of held high-B gargle, as of some gastric disturbance on a cosmic scale. Along with this sound comes a concussive suction so awesomely powerful that it's both scary and strangely comforting--your waste seems less removed than hurled from you, and hurled with a velocity that lets you feel as though the waste is going to end up someplace so far away that it will have to become an abstraction.