Twinkie Temptation

Many of my long-time fans will remember this article I wrote for 31 Magazine a couple of years ago about my love of Twinkies and the sorry scene that resulted when I impulsively indulged in that attraction one fateful afternoon.

Since then, my 12-step recovery process has gotten me through countless potentially disastrous episodes at the check-out counter and 7-Eleven, enabling me to deafen my ears to the Twinkies' ubiquitous siren song. My steel-plated, reinforced concrete, titanium alloy will was nearly crushed last week, however, when I stumbled upon the newest incarnation of Pure Evil in a little bite-sized package: Hostess 100 Calorie Packs of Twinkies.

(Why does Pure Evil so often come in little bite-sized packages? It's downright disturbing!)

There I was, briskly walking to the grocery check-out counter with my sensible, health conscious purchases, when I heard the whisper of yellow sponge cake and was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of the box pictured above, boldly displayed on a stand-alone tower in the middle of the aisle. I was lured by the friendly pep of the cowboy Twinkie mascot waving me over, by the full-color, highly texturized drawing of a mini-Twinkie bite, gushing artificial white sweetness. Only 100 calories, the box proclaimed. Was this indeed a guilt-free way to satiate my Twinkie love, so long repressed? Or would it instead unleash a Pandora's box of bingeing, self-immolation, and grief?

My hand trembled. My mouth watered. The sounds of cash registers faded to silence. Oh fickle taste buds! Oh imperfect will-power! How could I resist this too-good-to-be-true marketing genius in such an economy?

I did not cave in. After a moment of longing, I came to my senses, firmly told myself "NO," and removed myself from the temptation. A close call, to be sure, but victory was indeed mine.

(Dear Twinkie Cowboy, I'm still thinking about you. Perhaps someday we can be together. Love, M)

In, En, As: A Grammar Lesson

It’s been far too long since I attempted to make you all more proficient in the English language by posting grammar tips, so today I’d like to offer some wisdom on the importance of choosing the right vowel. The vowels in question are A, E, and I, when used in combination with one other letter to begin a word whose root is sure. (Bookmark this blog post, as you’re going to want to refer to it again and again in the future.)

Three words frequently get confused in our communication:

1. Insure
2. Ensure
3. Assure

The first two are homophones, meaning they sound alike but are spelled differently and have different meanings. Consequently, they are confused in written form, generally by writing “insure” when “ensure” is the appropriate word. The latter two have similar but nonetheless distinct meanings, and are confused in both written and spoken communication. Generally speaking, you insure things, ensure situations or outcomes, and assure people. Of course there are always nuances, but that is a good general rule of thumb to follow when in-doubt.

Below are the correct meanings and usages of these three cousins.

1. Insure. This word means “to provide insurance for something,” e.g. a house, car, fur coat, record collection, life, etc. Notice that the IN at the beginning of the word “insure” matches the IN at the beginning of the word “insurance”—which is how you can tell whether you’re using it correctly. Here are some examples:

CORRECT USAGE:
-- I want to insure my house against damage from floods and tornadoes.
-- Virginia state law requires drivers to insure new vehicles at the time of purchase. (Don’t quote me in legal circles on the accuracy of that statement.)
-- Michael Feinstein’s hands are insured for one million dollars. (See above note re: accuracy.)

INCORRECT USAGE:
-- I should verify Virginia state law to insure the statements on this blog are legally true. (Correct word: ensure.)
-- Tour de France winner Alberto Contador is regularly tested for doping to insure he won the race fairly. (Correct word: ensure.)
-- I will insure you understand this grammar principle by writing this clever post. (Correct word: ensure.)

2. Ensure. This word means “to make certain,” or “to guarantee.” Some examples of correct usage are:

CORRECT USAGE:
-- Following the grammar principles presented in this blog will ensure you use these three words correctly from now on.
-- I must leave work on-time today to ensure I won’t be late for Pool Talk.
-- This life jacket ensures that I won’t drown in the ocean, although it is useless in protecting me against sharks.

3. Assure. This word means “to make someone feel sure or certain”—not to actually guarantee the outcome of an action or situation. Here are some examples of correct and incorrect usage:

CORRECT USAGE:
-- The motto of the USPS assures its customers that the mail will be delivered in all types of weather.
-- Let me assure you that the grammar principles presented in this blog post are true, even if some of the statements are not.
-- The judge would not release me on bail until I assured him I would no longer violate the restraining order by stalking George Clooney.

INCORRECT USAGE:
-- Following all the assembly directions will assure that your Ikea table is put together perfectly. (Correct word: ensure)
-- I left work early to assure I would be on-time for Pool Talk. (Correct word: ensure)

I sincerely hope this post has proved enlightening and entertaining. Rest assured that the grammar principles outlined here will serve to insure your future communication against errors; following these precepts ensures you will never use these words incorrectly again. That's a lot of certainty in one blog entry.

PS A special shout out to Lindi for saying she loves my grammar posts and motivating me to write this one. Thanks, Lindi!

Things I Like #14: Pool Talk

Here’s the ritual: Every weekday around noon, my girlfriends and I start sending emails, always with the same subject line: “Pool Talk Today?” One by one, we weigh in—who can come, who can’t; what time; whose pool we’ll use and how long we can stay. That evening after work, we converge on the designated pool, beach towels in-hand. Ignoring the sunglassed gazes of teenaged lifeguards sitting stone-faced in their tower chairs, we nonchalantly walk to pool’s edge and sink our legs in the placid, chlorinated blue tub. Brrrr. One brave soul slides in first, proclaiming a little too brightly that the water is “so refreshing!” while she moves her limbs madly beneath the surface to warm up. Another session of Pool Talk has begun.

The ritual of Pool Talk, now in its third summer, combines two stress-relieving, rejuvenating, enjoyable past-times: swimming and talking to friends. For 30 minutes or more we tread water in the deep end of one of the pools in our neighborhood and update each other on our lives. Sometimes several girls come, sometimes it’s just two of us. We are all single, trying to manage our careers (professional and academic), our relationships (personal, professional, and romantic), our finances, our hobbies, our family commitments, and everything else that goes into a life. Pool Talk is an opportunity to vent, commiserate, seek and give advice, share news, and, of course, talk about boys. Last summer, we helped a friend plan her wedding during Pool Talk. A week or two ago, we gave advice to another friend dealing with unruly roommates. My goodness, this is beneficial!

Indeed, it’s the perfect end to any summer day.

Things I Like #13: 31 Magazine

Once again, I’m using my blog as a platform for shameless self-promotion, this time to promote the newest issue of the on-line magazine I created, 31. After a hiatus of more than a year, a new issue is up and ready for your reading pleasure!

The magazine started almost four years ago, when some friends and I got together to produce a little piece of literature for the Web, one that we knew would get published because we would publish it. Since then, it’s grown in popularity and the number of contributors has increased as well. It’s something we’re all very proud of.

Unfortunately, we were forced to go on hiatus when several of our contributors and our web designer had babies or otherwise became too busy to contribute—including yours truly, who had no spare time after enrolling in a Masters program.

I’m pleased to announce that 31 Magazine is back! We’ve got lots of great articles about books and reading, including book reviews, a Top 31 List, and The Grammarian. So check it out. Tell your friends. Send us feedback. Send us story ideas for a future issue. And most importantly, enjoy!

Pushing the Limits: A Cycling Story

The capacity of the human body to keep going, to stretch its limits, to become stronger, and simply to do what needs to be done never ceases to amaze me. I experienced this very vividly yesterday during my weekly bike ride, in which I was more than a little too ambitious in what I could reasonably accomplish. In the end, I pushed myself far beyond what I thought were the limits of my physical endurance and finished what I started, resulting in no small amount of muscle soreness in my legs as well as a tremendous sense of amazement at my own accomplishment.

A little background: For the past two weeks, I've done a 35-mile round-trip course on the lovely, scenic Mt. Vernon trail, which follows the Potomac River from Roosevelt Island (near Georgetown) all the way to George Washington's majestic estate overlooking the river. This trail features gently undulating inclines and a few tougher hills, winding its way through wooded areas and past neighborhoods, nearly always with the river in-sight.

In my quest to be fit enough to ride 70 miles at the LiveStrong Challenge next month (see previous post), I decided to do a longer ride yesterday, this time along the mostly-flat Washington & Old Dominion trail (W&OD), which starts in south Arlington and extends out more than 40 miles northwest to Purcelville, VA.

My plan was to ride 45-50 miles. Instead, my friend and bona fide cyclist Julio--for whom a normal weekend ride is between 100 and 125 miles at a fast pace--and I went 86 miles, starting in the Ballston area of Arlington at about 7:15am, riding out to Purcelville where we had lunch, and returning to Ballston at 6pm. Yes, that's right: I rode my bike EIGHTY-SIX MILES yesterday! YIKES! Obviously, many breaks were involved (especially on the way back). Lots of Gatorade and Cliff bars were consumed. Many muscles were screaming in pain at more than one point during the day. And the scenery was glorious!

More than once, I wanted to stop and rest just a few miles after our last break. Frequently, my legs were so tired that I wasn't sure I could keep pedaling, no matter how slowly I went. However, seeing Julio's back ahead of me, usually much farther up the trail, motivated me not to stop and to push myself to go a little faster and work a little harder than I otherwise would have so that I could keep him in-view. At other times, when my legs were less tired and I felt more energetic, we would ride side-by-side at a reasonable clip. (For me it was a very decent clip, though it was the equivalent of a leisurely stroll for him.) And there were yet other stretches, when I was feeling particularly tired, when Julio rode closely in-front of me and let me "draft" him--meaning he absorbed the force of the head wind for both of us so that I didn't have to exert as much energy to keep up the pace. Truly, his presence, patience, and encouraging coaching made all the difference in my ability to complete this course.

I'm sure we can each extract myriad life lessons from this experience. The point I want to make here, though, is simply this: When the situation requires it, you can usually do much more than you think you can do. Our bodies are made of tougher stuff than we think, meant to be exercised and strong and fit. This isn't to say we should constantly push the boundaries of what is safe or healthy. But when we put them to the test, we realize that our capacity is much greater than we had imagined.

A Capitol Fourth

There is no better place to be on the Fourth of July than our nation's capital, Washington, DC. Yesterday, Rachel and Michelle and I went to Eastern Market for breakfast. The iconic red brick building that is the centerpiece of the market was recently re-opened following a terrible fire last year that ravaged the interior of the building and led to a complete renovation. Breakfast there is the stuff of legend, and patrons--including us--patiently stand in line for upwards of an hour for a plate of pancakes (their signature dish), French toast, crabcakes, or an omlet, all of which are well worth the wait.

I got the blueberry buckwheat pancakes, aka "blue bucks," with a side of bacon. Mmmm, bacon. We ate outside at a table with a bright red umbrella.




After breakfast, we checked out the fresh produce in the farmers' market area (I bought some succlent fresh blueberries)...



... and browsed the arts and crafts produced by local artisans.



In the evening, after a movie and some excellent holiday eats at Jenny's, Rachel, Ben, and Rochelle and I went downtown to listen to the concert on the west lawn of the capitol building and watch the fireworks on the National Mall.

Ben pulled off a truly awesome parking job, with inches (or less) to spare on either side.

Front bumper

Rear bumper

The highlight of the concert for me was the fabulous, inimitable, and oh-so-cute Barry Manilow, particularly when he sang "Copacabana." Unfortunately, I didn't get a photo of the middle school kids in matching red t-shirts doing an exhilirating running dance during Barry Manilow's set. Other performers included powerhouse Aretha Franklin, Michael Feinstein, some "Sesame Street" characters who turned up for a little fun, Natasha Bedingfield, and President Obama gave a pre-recorded speech to celebrate the holiday. Although there were trees between us and the stage, we were still able to hear the whole concert.

The capitol looked majestic in the sunset.

A little after 9pm, the fireworks started--a spectacular, 20-minute-long display of exploding lights set off near the Washington Monument.

I love DC! Happy 4th of July, everyone!