Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Long Distance Book Club: The Boys in the Boat

Like many recent college grads, I am navigating the challenges of the twenty-something-awkward-phase with my closest friends scattered across the U.S. (and the world). iPhones, GChat, Whatsapp, and FaceTime certainly make the distance more manageable, but the decline in shared experiences can be an adjustment. Especially for those like my friends and I who love to talk.

In February, I mentioned my goal of reading more often to one of my best friends who currently lives in Boston. We decided to take on the challenge of reading more together with a Long Distance Book Club. Our first book was The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. A quick read and a tear jerker, I quickly learned how great it was to be able to talk about something that we were doing together, even though we are hundreds of miles apart. Another one of my best friends who currently lives in New York joined, too. While I wish that our Long Distance Book Club could meet in person and include wine like the book club my aunt belongs to, I am grateful that technology makes our book club possible. 


This is what I imagine non-long distance book clubs are really about...

This month, we're reading The Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown. The book is a biography of sorts that follows the 8+ (a boat with eight rowers and one coxswain) from the University of Washington as they attempt to qualify for and medal at the 1936 Berlin Olympics. 

Disclosures: I joined my university's rowing club my freshman year and fell in love with the sport. I speak German and Berlin is one of my favorite cities. I have spent a great deal of time research the Holocaust and the rise of Nazism. As my friend Jessica put it, this is basically the perfect book for my interests. I am enthralled by the author's descriptions of the sport during the 1930s. I had no idea how well covered rowing was by sports journalists, gamblers, and the general public. That type of cross-country fanfare doesn't exist today. That being said, I would highly recommend this book to anyone. 

The story centers on the life of Joe Rantz, a boy from an unimaginably difficult childhood who the author met much later in life. Without giving too much of the plot away, Joe was forced to survive on his own at a very young age, and learned that he could not depend on others for his happiness or wellbeing. His lack of ability to trust others puts his chance at racing in the boat slotted for the Olympic trials in jeopardy. 


As one learns in the Prologue (so no spoilers!), "the boat" becomes so special to Joe that he has trouble describing it in words. The author conveys what I think most rowers feel about their "boats" beautifully, stating:

"At first I thought he meant the Husky Clipper, the racing shell in which he had rowed his way to glory. Or did he mean his teammates, the improbable assemblage of young men who had pulled off one of rowing's greatest achievements? Finally, watching Joe struggle for composure over and over, I realized that "the boat" was something more than just the shell or its crew. To Joe, it encompassed but transcended both-- it was something mysterious and almost beyond definition. It was a shared experience-- a singular thing that had unfolded in a golden sliver of time long gone, when nine good-hearted young men strove together, pulled together as one, gave everything they had for one another, bound together forever by pride and respect and love..."

The book is also about the struggle of America during the Great Depression in general. Rowing has traditionally been a sport for the wealthy and elite. Yet the boys in this boat did not come from the families of wealthy businessmen, politicians, or heirs, like the boys in the boats they raced out East. These boats came from families of loggers and miners and the unemployed and hungry. These were the boys who made it through high school and to college against all odds. And then, against all odds, to Berlin.


Wednesday, March 19, 2014

St. Patrick's Day [Weekend] in the Windy City

Roughly two months ago, I suggested to Jessica, one of my best friends who currently lives in New York, that we should visit one of her best friends living in Chicago, Eric, for St. Patrick's Day weekend. It seemed like a far-fetched plan when I first suggested it, but less than a week later her flight and my megabus/train were booked. I love when travel ideas come together like that!

With all of the snow and consistent temperatures below freezing/in the single digits, mid-March -- and this trip -- really crept up on me. The Midwest finally got a couple of days in the 40s the week of the trip (with 5 inches of snow in-between, naturally). Although Sunday got to be pretty cold again and my hair froze when we walked to Lake Michigan, the sunshine on Friday and Saturday was a great reminder that spring is just around the corner.

Although St. Patrick's Day fell on a Monday this year, the city still celebrates over the weekend. St. Patty's Day in Chicago is probably best known for the river, which is dyed green on Saturday morning. It's pretty neat to see, but I'm not sure if I want to know what they use to turn the water so green.




As they say in Ireland, the weekend was mighty good Craic.






Monday, March 10, 2014

To-Do In 2014

For as long as I can remember, I've been a planner. I still have memories of staying up late with my freshman roommates discussing five year plans, what courses we should take when, and when and where we should study abroad. I'm also very into lists. A normal person doodles during a boring lecture; I make lists. Packing lists, lists of people to email, boat lineups lists, lists of clothes I should invest in, lists of recipes and restaurants I'd like to try, lists of places I want to visit. You name it, I probably have made a list about it. 

One of the blogs I enjoy reading has a 101 things in 1001 days series. Not surprisingly, I loved this idea, and started my year off with my own list of Things To-Do in 2014. I stuck to a one-year timeframe because I've found that I can tend to focus so much on my long-term goals that I miss out on "short-term" ones. & since I'm hoping that this blog will remind me to take full advantage of the "everyday," I figured this would be a great place to share my to-do list. 




I've crossed a couple of my things to-do off the list already, and I'm hoping sharing my list here will provide me with the motivation to pick up the pace. Can't believe it's already mid-March!!

1. Read 12 books (The Fault in Our Stars
2. Watch 12 documentaries (Miss Representation, The Abortion War)
3. Learn how to sew a button
4. Go camping
5. Go one week without hitting the snooze button
6. Make homemade pasta
7. Join Toastmasters
8. Travel to a new place
9. Learn about personal finances and continue saving in my brokerage account
10. Take a cooking class
11. Go to Kaffeestunde/do something German for an hour once a month (Kokowähh, Kaffeestunde)
12. Row (alumni row doesn’t count!)
13. Make an address book
14. Find a signature cocktail...
15. ...and learn how to make it.
16. Learn about makeup
17.  Go swimming in the Pacific
18. Spend a weekend in Detroit
19. Go hiking
20. Visit Boston
21. M-22 Race
22. Train for a ½ marathon or 10K
23. Publish article
24. Volunteer for an organization in my community
25. Learn how to French braid
26. Get better acquainted with my DSLR
28. Unplug for a day
29. Visit the Broad Art Museum (March 1st)
30. Treat my parents to dinner
31. Floss daily for a month (January, and still going strong!)
32. Read for thirty minutes every week night for two weeks
33. Cook dinner once a week for a month
34. Take a minivaca with my girlfriends
35. Wake up every weekday at 5am//gym at 5.30 for two weeks straight

Saturday, March 8, 2014

willkommen

schön 

...is beautiful

I have always enjoyed writing. In college, it was not uncommon for me to juggle four or more papers (and the 20+ books for research) in one semester. While at the time, I was focused on getting a 4.0, I realize now how much I miss spending hours in a coffee shop working to convey my thoughts, ideas, and arguments about a topic I selected into a paper. After graduating in May 2012, I spent a year in Freiburg, Germany on a Fulbright Scholarship researching a post-WWII trial. I returned to the States in August, and was very grateful to find a position as a Research Associate at a public policy consulting firm. I love my job, however most of my day is spent analyzing data for a client in excel sheets, not writing about what I want to write about.

I loved sharing my semester abroad in Jena, Germany and my year in Freiburg, Germany with my friends and family through blogs. Yet, the idea of blogging about my everyday life scared me. I worried that people would think that my life is pretty lame when I'm not abroad, or worse, that they would think I was fake or a fraud. Armed with the encouragement of my closest friends and the likelihood that my best friends, mom, and aunts are probably the only people that will read this blog, I've decided to give this a chance.

I expect that my blog will be a reflection of the things I love and find beautiful in life -- travel, food, to-do lists, sports, photography, Germany -- as well as the people I love. That's where the schön comes in. Schön means beautiful in German. While living in Germany, I realized that people used schön much more often than we use beautiful. "It's such a schöne city." "What schönes weather we're having!" "How was the play? - Schön." Despite schön being used so often, I never sensed that it lost any meaning or significance. Rather, it seemed to be a way to appreciate the beauty in everyday life. I hope that this blog will help to remind me and those who read it that everyday life is beautiful.