I’ve been meaning to blog about my encounter with Orange Coca Cola when I was in England. The brightly coloured bottles beckoned me – it looked strange; orange coca cola bottles aren’t that common.
I asked Ali, the guy at Sarah’s Market, we’d become friends in the few weeks we’d been there. He was very helpful when we run out of money and we had to get Paul to Western Union us some (London = v. expensive city). He said he hadn’t tried it but his young cousin, “who likes sweet things” seems to like it.
It tasted like coke with a bit of orange squeezed into it, but not freshly squeezed oranges, it doesn’t have the acidic taste that real oranges have. The flavours are really mellow almost as if they don’t belong together, like someone playfully mixed a bit of coke and Fanta and then decided it was a good idea.
The colour is light brownish which is also a bit off. It’s different enough to be interesting I probably wouldn’t drink it often if it were readily available in my local convenience store, then again I’m not really a soda person.
I probably would try it again just for the sake of novelty.
Sunday, I decided to go for run alone at night in the woods. Sometimes, I wish I’d take time to rethink my decisions.
It started with the New York City Marathon. I watched it on tv and managed to get myself all riled up. I’m very much in awe of Paula Radcliffe, by the way.
I decided I too would run a marathon – this isn’t a new desire by any stretch; but I wanted to run badly.
I have a long way to go (I wanted to make a marathon pun here but none comes to mind) in terms of training. I feel like a blob and my new scale confirms this, so and this isn’t me being self deprecating.
I did a little research online and decided to order the Garmin Forerunner 305 to help me train.
I tried to relax comforted by things to come, yet I felt restless – like I needed to start right away.
I decided to go for a long run just before sunset. I should have thought a little, we just switched back to Standard Time hence it gets dark sooner. Running inside Stanley Park at night is never a good idea.
By the time I got into the thick wooded area it was pitch dark. I had no phone or whistle or anything for that matter to ward off attackers, just headphones blaring on. I envisioned all sorts of horrible things happening to me; right there in the thick dense forest with no where to run. I couldn’t turn back… I’d come too far.
Once in a while a car would pass by and those were the most frightening moments, clearly anyone in a car could see a defenseless woman running in the woods – who knows what kinds of people are out there.
There was this particular car the slowed to a halt behind me, I run so fast my feet hurt. Another car came up behind and it started moving, only to go a little further and park in some secluded parking area ahead. I prayed fervently and as if someone was actually listening a succession of cars came to pass. The lone car started up again and drove off.
They probably were lost and looking for directions but at the moment all I could think of was how I was going to be killed, raped, beaten, maimed or something as gory.
It’ll so break my mother’s heart, I thought as I ran through the harrowing night.
I want to spend my Christmas holiday with my aunt Mary.
My mom would tell incredible stories about her when we were kids. Aunt Mary lives and work in New York City.
My mom’s stories were fascinating, evoking glamour, sophistication and energy.
I wanted to be exactly like Aunt Mary when I grew up, she seemed so vibrant.
We had an old photo of her in platform shoes and bell-bottoms at the entrance of Tompkins Square Park.
I hope I’m like Aunt Mary to Edith’s girls; she was such an inspiration to me in a way she probably never realizes.
We didn’t meet until about six years ago; I was all grown up – having visited New York a couple of times (although I never looked her up).
She was a much older woman when I met her, not at all like I’d imagined all those years.
Last year when I was in Manhattan for just a day – I remembered to call her and even though we couldn’t have lunch, we met at her offices on Liberty Street.
I wanted to tell her about how much stories of her had influenced my life, but I was a little embarrassed.
She talk for a while; stories about her and my mom when they were younger, about how my mom played matchmaker for her and her husband. She made me see my mom in a different light – like perhaps she was once like me.
I promised I’d be back the next year, this time I’ll stay longer and with her. We’ll go shopping at Macy’s on 34th Street – just like Mama said she used to.
I’m supposed to write about diabetes today.
