In so many words...

A friend once told me, "it's impossible to be shy while wearing a spandex bodysuit."

2010-04-22T04:32:00.000-07:00

And he was right. There is something strangely liberating about concealing your 9-to-5 self beneath a layer of shiny silver spandex, dramatic stage make-up and a sting-ray cape with neon glowing eyes...

-- Post From My iPhone

Ticking

2010-04-06T09:30:00.000-07:00

When the buzzing sound from my alarm clock infiltrated my deep sleep at 5:15 this morning, I awoke immediately, eyes wide. I rarely remember my dreams, but this morning memories of my dream cut vividly through the pre-dawn haze. I could not remember where I was in the dream, and I can't recall any real sequence of events. All I remember is sitting on a wooden floor, staring down at a baby, my baby. I don't know if the baby was a boy or a girl nor who his/her daddy was. I don't remember--or maybe I never knew--whether the bouncy chair he/she sat in was a shiny new gift or an abused hand-me down. What I do remember is looking down with love in my eyes at a tiny, smiling baby and feeling pure, unadulturated happiness.

I don't and have never wanted kids (though I always reserve the right to change my mind). Maybe my "biological clock," which I've always regarded as little more than myth and legend, is ticking away, messing with my subconscious. Maybe the dream was a simple response to the news that one of my friends recently gave birth to a healthy little boy. Maybe the fact that Jack now seems serious about never wanting children (teaching in inner-city Baltimore will do that to a person) is making me worry that if I ever do change my mind and decide I want to have children, he won't be on board. Maybe I should get a puppy.

Every little bit counts

2010-03-22T13:05:00.001-07:00

Every evening for the past three years, Jack and I have unloaded the change from our pockets into a ten-gallon water jug...quarters, dimes, nickels, pennies and the occasional Shekel or Euro. At first, the coins fell with a thud into the empty jug, but over time that thud became a cha-ching as coins, piled on top of coins. When we first implemented our piggy-bank saving method, we promised the money saved would go toward a vacation or something material and frivolous.

Over the weekend, we cashed in our change at our neighborhood grocery store Coinstar machine. We had to carry the coins over in three batches--the water jug (though nowhere near full to the top) weighed too much to carry. Total, we cashed in more than $450 dollars worth of coins!!!

What will we do with the money, you ask?

We're going to blow it--every last bit of it. Most likely on booze, duck confit and crawfish etoufee during our upcoming trip to New Orleans.

It's true what they say--Every little bit counts.

Bad Cat

2010-03-08T16:39:00.000-08:00

The crime scene...

The culprit...

-- Post From My iPhone

Pretty girls don't get speeding tickets

2010-02-24T10:22:00.000-08:00

Life isn't fair.
The nice guy finishes last.
Women often earn less than men for doing the same jobs.
People who don't speak educatedly (see what I did there?) have a tougher time in life.
Politicians, movie stars, professional sports players and other people with gobs and gobs of money often live above the law.
Good looking, strong men get all the hot chicks.
And, pretty girls don't get speeding tickets.

Or so, I thought.

I'm not saying I'm all that or anything, but I have to admit that I've enjoyed some special treatment based on my good looks and ~~big tits~~ charm.

The regular conductor on my train brings me my favorite candy at least once a week. The men who work at Home Depot practically clamor to help me find "the-stuff-you-use-on-PVC-pipes-you-know what I mean?" Men in bars offer to buy me drinks. And, most importantly men in law enforcement always cut me some slack.

Thanks (I think) to Facebook, I've reunited with various girls I went to middle and high school with, and more than one of them has informed me that they "hated me in school because I always had the biggest boobs and the cutest boyfriend." Weird thing to say to someone you haven't seen in almost a decade, but anyway...The point is, there are women like them all throughout the world who hate women like me. And some of those women become traffic court judges. See where I'm going with this?

That's right, I was found guilty of a traffic violation today. Moi?!? After eleven years as a licensed driver, three tickets thrown out in court and about one million verbal and written warnings from cops more interested in gawking at me through my driver's side window with a big goofy smiles and "bedroom" in their eyes. Once I made a left turn on red in South Philly, and the cop that pulled me over simply lectured me a little and asked me to "please not to make him look bad." Another time I was pulled over on I95 just north of Baltimore and the officer told me I should slow down and gave me a tire safety brochure. Anyway, back to today in court....

I entered the courtroom confidently in my oh-so-innocent-looking, chocolate-colored suit, but as soon as I saw the hard-ass woman judge with wrinkly cheeks and narrow eye sitting behind the desk, I began to worry. And, I knew I was doomed when she confiscated someone's cell phone because they had forgotten to turn it off when they entered the court room.

A glimmer of hope washed over me when the officer who had pulled me over sat down next to me on the bench and smiled. He asked, "I pulled you over, right? What for?" I told him and he smiled broadly and asked how I was doing.

Once we were called to the stand, he smiled at me again and proceeded to tell the judge how cooperative and pleasant I was when he pulled me over. I asked for probation before judgment based on my clean driving record and respectful tone, and all I got was a measly 45$ reduction in the fine, points stand. Hater.

Help me decide on my next costume!

2010-02-18T05:58:00.000-08:00

Thank you everyone who left a comment on my last post complimenting my Coraline-inspired costume.

There are few things in this world that offer me release like dancing to a funky beat. On the dance floor, the only thing that matters is moving my body to the rhythm. Thoughts of bills to be paid, work to be done and chores to be completed, melt away as my mind focuses only on stepping to the beat. The flashing and swirling lights, the awe-inspiring performances and the mass of people moving as one, transport me to care-free world, where anything is possible. Add a costume to the mix, and I become a new person--a better person who is not constrained by society's expectations nor my own inhibitions.

I think a friend of mine said it best when he told me, "it's hard to be shy while wearing a red velvet jump suit and feather boa."

The next costume party on my agenda, is an underwater-themed event in April. Though it's still a couple months off, I'm starting my costume planning now. That's where you come in. I need help deciding between two ideas.

Stingray
This costume would involve a foil silver body suit, a hand-made stingray fin/tail shaped silver fabric cape that would attach at my back and by loops at my wrists, silver-painted sneakers, and wild silver eyeshadow and lipstick.
Sea Nymph
The possibilities are endless--sea shells, scale mail, shiny and sheer fabrics, flowing wig, lots of teals or blues. My concern with this idea, is that there will probably be a bizillion store-bought sexy mermaid or sea nymph costumes at the party. Mine would be unique because I'd make it myself, but there would be girls wearing similar outfits, no doubt.

Leave a comment and let me know which costume idea you like best!

My costume for PEX's Valentine's Day Party "Heart Burn"

2010-02-15T10:36:00.000-08:00

Dancing all night is great fun, but dancing all night in a Coraline-inspired costume with glow-in-the-dark stars is even better.....

Heart-Burn was an amazing party...the beats were rocking, the vibe was just right and the performers were amazing. I posted videos the party of a performer hula-hooping with fire and
a couple doing some amazing yoga-style floor acrobatics on my other blog go check it out!

Post by numbers: How I survived Snowpocalypse '10

2010-02-12T13:50:00.001-08:00

75 white felt stars painted with three coats each of glow-in-the-dark fabric paint for my Coraline-inspired costume for Saturday night

53 e-mails from my boss, my boss's boss and other people's bosses

36 inches of snow (maybe more--I don't know the final figure, but there was a lot of fucking snow)

9 hours of shoveling

8 trips zipping down a snowy hill on a sled in Patterson Park

7 days without wearing real pants

5 days off work

4 new recipes attempted--lentil soup, banana-carrot muffins, southern-style black eyed peas and slow cooked tenderloin with homemade chutney

3 seasons of 30 Rock on Netflix On Demand

2 six packs of ale, 1 bottle of Captain, and maybe a little whiskey

-- Post From My iPhone

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

2010-02-03T09:15:00.000-08:00

Last night, NPR aired an interview with Representative Duncan Hunter (Republican, California) in which he expressed his view that the military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy should not be repealed. My blood pressure rose with every arguement he made, until I was so angry that I found myself screaming at my car radio.

There are few things in life that get me worked up like the ongoing--and absolutely ludicrious--"debate" over gay rights. How is it possible that in a society that supposedly values freedom and equal rights for all that, we still have to "debate" whether or not gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders should be afforded the same basic rights as everyone else.

I swear, our society is only about one step away from burning people at the stake and forced genital mutilation.

When Rep. Hunter was asked why he believed the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy should stand, here's what he had to say:

...No, because I think that its bad for the cohesiveness and the unity of the military units, especially those that are in close combat, that are in close quarters in country right now. Its not the time to do it. I think its - the military is not civilian life. And I think the folks who have been in the military that have been in these very close situations with each other, there has to be a special bond there....I think that the majority of people in the military are they're young kids. They usually have more conservative families, more conservative backgrounds and I think that it would go against their principles and it would frankly make everybody a little bit uneasy to be in these close situations...

So...What you're saying Rep. Hunter is that the military is full of young, little rednecks and bigots? Or maybe you're saying that straight, gay, bi, and transgender people can't share close bonds?
In the United States we pride ourselves on allowing equal rights for all people, yet here is a congressman who seems to believe that discriminatory policies are OK, who believes that homophobia is a valid "principle" that should be protected.

...Its like if you want to work for NPR, you don't go to work and on the first day say, hey, I want everybody to know that I'm gay.

If I remember correctly, we called this a "straw man" argument in my college debate class. No, there is no reason for a person to parade in to their place of employment with a marching band, wrapped in a feather boah, and carrying balloons and a big "I'm gay" sign, but GLBT people should not have to hide who they are. They should be able to openly refer to their "partners," just as straight men/women talk about their families with their coworkers.

...You probably don't care one way or the other as long as they, you know, get their particular job done. I think the military is the same way. That's why don't ask, don't tell works...

Ok, I see. It's OK to be gay, just so long as you get your work done and don't tell anyone that you're gay.

(In response to a statement that other countries allow GLBTs to serve openly in the military)...The U.S. is not Canada and were not Great Britain and I would argue that we have a superior military and a much larger military than any other country. Thats why were kind of the world's security force.

GLBTs serve in the military now!!!!! They just aren't allowed to be open about it, and if they do, there are consequneces. Openly gay or not, these men and women who currently have to hide their sexual orientation are some of the very same trained soldiers that make our military "superior."

Do or Die

2010-01-21T11:58:00.000-08:00

If you're anything like me, year-after-year, you tell yourself, "THIS YEAR I'll get my act together." "THIS YEAR I'll give up the cookies, cocaine and cigarettes." "THIS YEAR I'll exercise at least three times a week. THIS YEAR.,,,

Totally kidding about the cocaine--no interventions please.

But, let's get real. Intrinsic motiviation only goes so far and cookies are delicious. Grand and lofty goals like "get in shape" and "eat right" are seldom realized, and our "failure" to meet them often leads to self-loathing.

THIS YEAR, I'm trying something different, a little-something called "positive reinforcement." Or maybe it should be called "do or die"--I'm not sure yet.

Instead of making promises to go to the gym or jog each morning, I'm planning an adventure. Specifically, I am making plans to join a guided milt-day hike--maybe The W hike through the Patagonian Andes, or possibly a rim-to-rim Grand Canyon hike--that requires me to be in great shape. If I train sufficiently, the hike will be my reward. And, if I don't, well that's the "die" part.

The point is, I need to be in better shape. My motivation is not vanity, but health-related. I have mechanical scoliosis, and well-toned, strong muscles are key to keeping my back from curving into an "s." The curvature in my spine is the result of breaking my left femur bone in a car accident when I was just ten years old. Instead of being put into a body cast, I had a metal rod attached with pins to the broken bone. Thanks to the stress caused by the impact of the accident, my femur refused to heal and the rod eventually broke. I had another surgery and a new rod inserted, but that one broke too. For the third surgery, the rod was upgraded from stainless steel to titanium and bone from hip was graphed around the break. During one of these surgeries, the doctors cut through a growth plate, stunting the growth of my left leg. I wear a lift on my left shoe to make up the difference, but to this day my left leg is weaker than the right, making my hips and spine uneven.

A few years ago, during a regular check-up, my doctor suggested I have surgery to lengthen my left leg. I left that appointment in tears, and sought a second opinion from a doctor at the Maryland Spine Center in Baltimore. My new doctor's approach suited me much better; her biggest recommendation was to exercise to keep my back and leg muscles strong. And, for the first year after that appointment, I was a fitness manaic. I took pilates and yoga. I walked everywhere and hiked every weekend.

I'm not sure why or how, but after that first year, my dedication to fitness wore off. Not only have I gained about 15 pounds, but also I feel slow, weak and imbalanced. I've had enough of feeling like a sloth--it's time to act.

Music is life

2010-01-11T10:07:00.001-08:00

On the dance floor, the smell of baby powder invades my nostrils and coats the floor creating a smooth surface that allows my feet to glide across it with rhythm and grace. The pounding bass consumes me, relieving my head of all cognizant thought and the vibration from the speakers makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck. My senses heighten while my consciousness is lost in the flash of pulsating lights against the thin veil of my eyelids. I feel powerful and alive.

After the breakdown, the beat drops. I stomp into action, letting my feet fall purposefully with the bass. I hop with my right foot to my toes and push off with my left foot. Mid-spin, I catch someone’s eye and for a brief moment, we connect. I do not know if the gaze belongs to a man or woman, a straight or gay person, a white, black, Asian person, and it doesn’t matter. All I can see is the white of his or her teeth. There are few things as reassuring as a smile. We may be different people from different corners of the universe, but in this brief moment, we unite, dancing to the same beat.

If the music stops, I just know the world will cease to spin.

Best of 2009: Shop

2009-12-28T15:13:00.000-08:00

Shop. Online or offline, where did you spend most of your money this year?

I have been meaning to write a review of my experiences with IndiDenim an online custom jean shop. Well actually, IndiDenim also has a brick-and-mortar store in California, and they sell not only custom-made jeans for men an women, but also custom men's shirts.

A pair of made-to-fit jeans from IndiDenim runs a steep $150 plus, but can you really put a price on jeans that don't gap at the waist or smash your booty?

The ordering process was made as simple as possible by a very easy-to-use series of order form pages on the IndiDenim site. Despite the written and pictorial instructions, I still had a hard time taking my rise and inseam measurements. I way, way, way over estimate my inseam measurement for the first pair of jeans I ordered--Luckily, they were very easy to exchange, though I did have to eat the extra shipping costs. If you can, I would recommend going to a tailor to have your measurements taken. If not, and you do botch the sizes (like I did) th first time around, at least IndiDenim's return/exchange policy allows for some wiggle room, pun intended.

Anyway...I ordered two pairs of jeans. Designing your own jeans using all of IndiDenims stiching, embelleshing and other design choices is fun, but takes some practice. My first pair of jeans, are a little too mom-jeans for my taste (at no fault of IndiDenim), but my second pair turned out perfectly. They are dresssy enough for casual days at the office, for work happy hours and for family dinners, yet they are super comfortable and stylish.

Though I've only worn and washed my jeans so many times in the few months since I bought them, they seem to be really durable. The fabric is quality and the stitching well-done.

It took a long time to get my new jeans--especially the ones that had to be exchanged, altered, and re-shipped--but no longer than the IndiDenim site indicated.

Also, they save your measurements and designs, so reordering is easy. This will certainly come in handy the next time I order from IndiDenim--and there will be a next time!

I was going to include pictures with this review, you know, of me all bent-over, showing off my no-gap, but then I decided against it.

Transformational

2009-12-28T10:02:00.000-08:00

Word or phrase. A word that encapsulates your year. "2009 was _____.

I spent my early teenage years pitted against the world, in some sort of teen-angst filled rebellion. I didn't really know who I was or what I wanted from life, only that I wanted to go against the grain. I died my hair purple, lime green and array of other colors. I wore combat boots, fishnets and pleather skirts. I played bass guitar and talked like "one of the guys." I didn't want to be pretty. I denied my heritage. I quarreled with my mom, snuck out regularly and found myself explaining that "I didn't do it" to the authorities a number of times. That period of my life was about defiance.

Then, from about age 16 to 22, I just wanted to have fun, to love and be loved, to be a grown-up. I worked hard and played hard. My energy was limitless--I could go to class all day, waitress at night and party into the wee hours of the morning, all while keeping a 3.8 average. I didn't know how special a person I was. I trusted people who didn't deserve my trust. I assumed all people were like me, harmless, kind and looking for fun. My trusting nature led me to a lot of frightening situations (like the time I found myself with my hands behind my head at a busted warehouse party, or the time I had to sleep on the beach in Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica), but my outgoing, and admittedly naive, nature also led me to a lot of good times. We'll call these my experimental years.

My mid-20s have been equally as adventurous, only in a different way. In my mid-20s, I became a professional, career woman, I bought my first house, and I started saving and planning for the future. At first, I did not recognize how exciting all this really was. These important steps in my life felt like little more than "doing what I was supposed to be doing. I found the humdrum of the 9-5, mature-and-responsible-adult life to be completely depressing, and I longed for my days backpacking through Latin America. I spent most of my mid-20s overwhelmed with the contradictions in my life.

In 2010, I will officially be in my late-20s. For me, 2009 has been a year for transition, for change, both tangible and emotional. Maybe that's what happens when you hit your late 20s. Or, maybe it's just a coincidence, but whatever the case, the word that best describes my 2009 is transformational.

I took a life-altering trip to Israel.

I got in touch with my geeky side and started a new career as a web content manager. I've already launched three web sites since taking the job! Designing and developing for the Web is a fun, new challenge new challenge for me. I have to admit; I've enjoyed poring over code and learning new programming languages. I'm (not so) secretly a big geek like that.

Jack graduated college and started a career as a teacher. It's wonderful to both have interesting, respectable, secure jobs and to be on the same schedule.

New people I'd met when I first moved into the new house have turned into real friends. I have regular hang-outs, where I see people I know and who know me. I can tell you where to get the best breakfast, the best chicken, the best Greek food, and the best canolis...or is "canoli" both singular and plural? Anyway.... I've gotten used to making small talk with strangers (damn southern kindness) and learned to stop for yellow. Baltimore has become more than the place I live, it's my home.

We demolished our basement (we're still working on rebuilding :), installed new handles on our kitchen cabinets, built a raised flower bed and installed a rain barrel, and I spent more money than I had ever spent at one time (well, except the down payment on the house) when I replaced my heating system.

And, I made a five-year plan and started saving for retirement. It doesn't get more adult than that.

This past year, my outlook has begun to change, and I actually find that being an "adult" is fun. I love that I can dress up in a suit and be a professional for 40 hours a week, yet on the weekends, I can still strap on my sneakers, slab glitter on my eyelids and dance the night away. I know where I want to be in five, ten, fifteen years. I've gotten much better at reading people. I enjoy working on my house, and I find satisfaction in my career choice. I appreciate my home, my job, my man, and my family. I am confident in the decisions I've made and my plan for the future.

Here's to an equally fantastic 2010--Salud! Cheers! L'chiam!

Best of 2009: Tea

2009-12-17T11:58:00.000-08:00

Tea of the year. I can taste my favorite tea right now. What's yours?

Tea? TEA? Tea is for sissies and British people....Just kidding. I love a good maté or a nice Chai with milk from time to time, but my heart belongs to coffee. I like it like I like my men, strong and dark with a little bite.

Best of 2009: Packaging

2009-12-16T05:17:00.000-08:00

Best Packaging. Did your headphones come in a sweet case? See a bottle of tea in another country that stood off the shelves?

I have not bought a singe gift bag, not one roll of wrapping paper, nor even just one gift bow in all my adult years.
Instead of wasting my hard-earned cash on frivolous shiny wrapping that is quickly discarded, I use recycled materials to wrap gifts.
When someone gives me a gift, I carefully open it in order to preserve the paper. Even small pieces can be reused to turn a plain paper bag into a festive, collage-style gift bag. Glitter, glue, stamps, paint and even pompoms and pipe cleaners, can be added to the blank side of cut and flattened brown paper bags to create one-of-a-kind wrapping paper.
Salvaged ribbons and bows make perfect recycled gift wrapping accessories, as do old buttons and lace from long retired linens.
Reduce. Reuse. Recycle.

Best of 2009: Rush

2009-12-14T09:31:00.000-08:00

I'm jumping on the best of 2009 blog challenge bandwagon...Today's prompt is Rush. When did you get your best rush of the year?

Exhilarating,
Amazing,
Awe-inspiring.

The moments that make us feel truly alive
can not be trapped on film
or reduced to nouns and verbs.

I can tell you that my month-long trip to Israel was a life-changing experience.

I can show you photos of the sun rising over the Dead Sea,
the rays of light beaming from the sun,
divine.

I can describe for you what it feels like to bathe in the Red Sea
and to have a magnificent bottle-nose dolphin swim just two inches beneath your body,
with the stregnth of it's tail forcing currents around your body.

I can tell you how the Western Wall feels on your fingertips,
smooth and cool to the touch,
magical.

But I can't accurately portray what it feels like to walk the Snake Path,
to take that last step up from the ancient, eroding stairs to reach the top of Masada,
as so many have done before you.

I can't show you a picture of the sea sensations that invaded my senses,
the brilliant array of color and movement beneath the surface,
the shrill dolphin sounds penetrating my eardrums,
the taste of the salt on my lips when I came up for air.

And, a photograph can not capture the contradictions of time
realized standing in front of a seemingly indestructible
structure built thousands of years ago,
the transience of my own meager existence,
my lineage, a long line of history and tradition,
Continuation.

Happy Hanukkah!

2009-12-11T14:57:00.000-08:00

-- Post From My iPhone

Day 2

2009-12-10T11:21:00.000-08:00

This is my second day as a non-smoker.

I won't lie--It sucks.

I like smoking. I enjoy pulling the hot smoke into my lungs, gently taping the cigarette to keep the ashes from falling...ahhh, memories. My brain is split in two. There's a big part of me that says, "yeah, I know smoking is bad for me, but who cares? I will die eventually one way or another. Is lung cancer really that bad."

Yes, lung cancer is that bad. I watched my grandmother wither away to nothing in a hospital bed while cancerous cells devoured her lung tissue and eventually took her life.

I have been lying about my new-found smoking habit to my family and co-workers. I had to either come clean about smoking or give it up. I chose to give it up. I'm angry and annoyed. I just want a cookie, no, make that lots of cookies. I'm irritated. I can't keep my thoughts straight, much less write a coherent blog post.

On Paris...

2009-12-05T12:23:00.000-08:00

A lot of people say that Paris is the most beautiful city on earth. It certainly is an amazing place--a bustling metropolis of phenomenal architecture, bright lights, sweeping views and a seemingly endless array of art. Paris certainly reflects the wonder and beauty of man's creativity, craft and imagination, but I have to say, I still think La Paz, Bolivia is the most beautiful city I've ever seen. It's set way up high in the Andes Mountains, with the central part of the city at the bottom of a sort of natural bowl lined with small, simple houses that blend perfectly with the color of the arid land backdrop. But I digress...

Our hotel in Paris was in what Parisians refer to as the bad part of town. We stayed at a very basic hotel on the Avenue de Clichy, three metro stops north of Place de Clichy, where the lights of Moulin Rogue sparkle brightly (not to mention the neon glare from the signs of the numerous sex shops and strip clubs).

If that Parisian neighborhood is bad, then Baltimore is a fucking war zone. The area was home to a mostly Arabic-speaking population (and a lot of kebab stands), and the French don't make it any secret how they feel about Muslims. I felt perfectly comfortable where we stayed--it was like being in Queens or Brooklyn or something.

French people have a reputation for being rude and hating United Statesians, but I found the complete opposite. (I hate using the term *American* for people from the US -- the term shows the self centeredness of our culture. But, again, I digress...) Parisians are like New Yorkers, they have a seemingly rough exterior but are really some of the friendliest people I've ever met.

We spent Thanksgiving day wandering the winding streets of Montmarte and exploring Espacio Dali and the Musee de Erotocismo. Our Thanksgiving meal consisted of cheeses, fresh baguettes, fruit and wine from the grocery store. A decent bottle of wine cost just 2.50 euros.

My travel partner and I are recently reacquainted friends--I've told you about her here before. In the years that have passed since our days as close friends and roommates, a lot has changed, or maybe nothing has changed. Maybe we were always very different people who were simply brought together by circumstance. I'm not sure it really matters. We had a great time together in Paris, and though are relationship will probably never be what it once was, I see more shared good times in out future.

Champ-Eleysee, arguably the most famous street in all of Paris, was lined with blue and white lights and vendor stalls selling mulled wine, roasted chestnuts, crepes, fine chocolates and more. From the Arc du Triomph, the view of this winter wonderland was enough to take my breathe away.

The museums in Paris put the ones in our country to shame. In addition to the Espacio Dali, we went to the Musee Rodin, Musee D'Orsay and the Louvre. It was amazing to stand before masterpieces by Vangough, Monet, Da Vinci, Matisse, Rodin..close enough to appreciate every brushstroke.

We spent an entire day at Versailles--once home to Marie Antoinette and King Louis XIV. The gold, the grandeur, I could barely wrap my mind around the idea of people living with that kind of wealth.

We met my Mom and her friend, who happened to also be visiting Paris, met for a fantastic meal at a fine dining restaurant. We had roast duck with a cherry sauce, escargot in a basil sauce, creamy goat cheese wrapped in puff pastry, rabbit in a delicate mushroom sauce, poached pears and a lovely bottle of Bordeaux.

Ahhh...Paris.

-- Post From My iPhone

J'adore Paris!

2009-12-04T21:41:00.000-08:00

Posting pictures using Blogger is a pain.

You can see more of my Paris pics on Flickr.

Guilt

2009-11-18T08:31:00.000-08:00

I'm no poet, but when emotions are swirling through my mind and my head is crowded with thoughts, poetry provides an amazing release. I sit down and write a poem probably once or twice a year, but this was the first time that I'd ever shared any of my work.

Poetry allows a writer to express and explore raw feelings. No reasons. No stories. Pure emotion.

Our emotions are what unifies us as people. Regardless of their race, ethnicity, religion, sex, social status, sexual orientation, intelligence, education--everyone experiences love, happiness, passion, ecstasy, fear, nervousness, sorrow, pain and suffering. The words to describe these emotions, the causes that evoke them and the way a person deals with his/her emotions may differ from culture to culture and person to person, but everyone feels.

The holiday season always sends my emotions into over-drive, but as I grow older, the resentment, anger and sadness I am used to feeling time of year has given way to a much more powerful emotion, guilt.

My parents separated when I was just two-years-old. I have just one single memory of their brief time together. I was sitting at the top of our chocolate-brown carpeted steps, watching my parents through the wooden rungs of the banister, with my knees tucked into my chest and arms wrapped around my shins. I could hear yelling, the sound of glass breaking, and then I saw blood. Or, at least what I thought was blood. Turns out my father, in a fit of immaturity, had doused my mom with Heinz 57.

After my parents divorced, I lived a dual life. My mother and father shared dual custody. I had two very, very, very different families. My mom's house was the type of house that children should grow up in. In her house, I was encouraged, disciplined, loved and cared for. I wouldn't say I was spoiled, but I sure never went hungry.

At my father's house my life couldn't have been more different. He remarried three times, twice to the same woman (who he apparently just recently divorced again). With his wives came step-siblings for me, and with their inevitable divorces I would once again become an only child. He introduced me to the dark-side of life--to motorcycle gangs, a plethora of drugs, over-doses, criminal life and jail. By twelve years old, there wasn't a drug I hadn't seen done, and by the time I was sixteen, there wasn't one I hadn't tried myself. He was too fucked up to see anything wrong with doing hard drugs with his pre-teen daughter. He was too fucked up to remember to buy groceries. He was too fucked up to keep his promises and too far gone to love me.

Throughout my childhood, I bounced back and forth between these two worlds. Sometimes I would get tired of being hurt, and I would swear-off my father, his home and lifestyle. I would stay with my mom and wait for him to call. He never called.

His parents, my grandparents, used every Thanksgiving as an excuse to force my father and I together. He would make empty promises that things would be better if I came back...he wouldn't talk down to me anymore...I could have a kitten...There would be no more fighting...no more drugs.

Every year, I believed him. And, every year I was let down. My anger, resentment and sadness grew until is consumed me. I hated him and everything that made me think of him, including the holidays.

Now, I find myself consumed by a new emotion, guilt. I am no longer angry at my father. I feel sorry for him. He is financially ruined and in poor physical and mental health thanks to the bad decisions he's made throughout his life. I haven't spoken to him in a couple of years now. It hurts to much. Hearing his distant and faded "junkie" voice repeat the same things over and over, makes me sick to my stomach. The last time I stepped foot in his house, I literally threw-up. The last time I spoke to him on the phone, he blamed me for our failed relationship. I guess he has to lie to himself to live with himself.

I feel bad that I'm not strong enough to look past the past. I feel guilty that I don't try to have a relationship with my father. I feel horrible that I know he won't live much longer and that doesn't make me want to reconnect with him. I feel selfish because of my need for self-preservation. I feel frigid because I'm not sure I have any love left for the man who calls me his daughter. All of these emotions combine together to create a guilty feeling that eats away at my soul.

PS - Thanks to all of you who left comments on my poem. Your insights and support inspired me to write this post. Writing helps me understand and cope with my thoughts, and hearing from all of you reminds me that I'm not alone in my experiences. Thank you!

2009-11-10T03:48:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wish I wore a suit of armor,
Shiny, metallic,
Impenetrable.
A suit of armor to protect me against the weight world,
To keep me from feeling.
To keep me from caring.
A suit of armor,
Cold, smooth,
Indescructible.

New Look

2009-11-03T05:10:00.000-08:00

Priorities. Traveling and entertainment are the top two on my list. I spend a good portion of my disposable income on boozing, eating out and trips abroad. It's great. Except, when all your money is tied up in fun, there's none left over for new clothes. Besides, who wants to spend money on something boring like clothes? Even if I do "shop," I'd rather buy art. Or shoes. I do love shoes.

Why am I telling you this? Well, this weekend I went clothes shopping for the first time since February. This was no ordinary shopping, but EXTREME shopping. I was at the mall (actually two malls) for a total of eight hours this weekend. The first day, it took me two-and-a-half hours to make my first puirchase--a pair of black suede, slouchy boots for $35. Two hours later, I had bought a dress and a skinny belt. Four-and-a-half hours, three purchases and $75 spent. I seriously suck at shopping.

Does anyone else see some major similarities between malls and casinos? No natural light, over-stimulation, people mulling about with glazed looks, people spending money they don't have....

So back to my new boots. If you know me in "real" life, you know that I spend most of my time in sneakers. Super-cute, bold, colorful sneakers, but sneakers nonetheless. This whole boots, dresses and tights thing is new for me. It's kind of like playing dress up. Today, as I walked with my new boots through the three metro stations that I traverse on my daily commute, I felt like strutting. New shoes seem to have a direct impact on a girl's self-esteem--someone should do a study. My feminist side just died a little with that last statement.

My cat Papi seemed less thrilled with my new look. When I put my boots on this morning and stood up from the chair, he hopped back, his tail puffed and his eyes widened. He kept wanting to come closer to scope out my new attire, but when he got too close for comfort he would leap away dramatically with the hair on his tail standing on edge, like he had stuck his little paw in a light socket.

Why did I tell you this pointless story? I don't know, these boots are making me fiesty. I completely understand if you never read my blog again.

Random Dozen

2009-10-28T10:11:00.000-07:00

Random Dozen:
If you play along, let me know so I can come see how you answered.

1.Candy corn: Your thoughts?
The brown bottoms are superior to the white bottoms.

2. Briefly, what was the first conversation you ever had with your spouse? (or best friend, if you're not married.) (Or someone significant, like your librarian.)
When Jack and I first met, I was 16 years old and at a party at my boyfriend-at-that-time's house. The "dreaded ex" as we'll call him, was proving to me that you could sit in your chair all night and never have to get up. We spent the night shouting orders for fresh beers and entertainment from our chair. When we tried it with Jack, he was totally on to our bullshit and giving orders right back. From then on, whenever Jack and I saw each other there was a lot of ball breaking going on.

We have been dating for going on six years now, and we still joke and break balls just like we did back then.

3. Could you ever become a vegetarian?
I grew up "pescatarian," meaning the only "meat" I ate was seafood. I didn't enjoy a steak until I was 16 years old. I still rarely eat red meat, but when I do, I like it bloody!

4. Have you ever dressed up your pet in a costume?
No. No. NO! Though, in the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit that my cat Papi sports a rhinestone studded collar and my cat Pie (aka Puss Cat) rocks a red studded one.

5. Name something about childhood that you miss (like Clark Bars, Tea berry Gum, Malibu Barbie, cracking fake eggs on people's heads with your fist and "It's the Great Pumpkin" airing only once a year).
What I miss most about my childhood is being able to spend my entire weekend playing--splashing in puddles, riding bikes and tromping through the woods has given way to running errands, cleaning the house and other boring adult things. Sigh.

6. Have you ever won a trophy? If not, what do you deserve a trophy for?
Pimp of the Year bitches! I have the trophy to prove it.

7. When do you think is the appropriate time to begin playing Christmas music each year?
After Thanksgiving--I find it really annoying that stores in my city already have Christmas displays up, and it's not even Halloween yet. I'm not just saying this because I'm Jewish...

8. What is your favorite board game?
Does Yahtzee count as a board game? Probably not since there's no board.

9. How do you feel about surprises (receiving, not giving)?
Being pleasantly surprised is nice, but I hate when someone says, "I have a surprise for you," and won't tell me what it is. Jack gets me like that all the time, because he knows it drives me nuts.

10. Is it easy for you to say "I'm sorry?"
Yes, but only if I'm actually sorry. No insincere apologies. When I'm right, I'm right. I won't apologize for that.

11. What is your favorite candle scent?
Lavender

12. October is traditionally "open house" time in public schools. If you had a literal open house in your home (like a reception) what light snacks would you serve visitors and what would you show them (as in art projects, graded papers) that would uniquely represent you?
I would serve Belgian beers, robust red wines and a sampling of my favorite fruits and cheeses. (I'm classy like that.) I would show the art I've collected during my travels--I only decorate my house in original art--and my rocks and gems collection. For music, I would play some deep, soulful house music--maybe my new(ish) Terry Thompson CD.

PHOTOS from The Great Lantern Parade

2009-10-26T06:36:00.000-07:00

....on my other blog. Go there!

The Great Halloween Lantern Parade

2009-10-22T13:00:00.000-07:00

If you know me at all, then you know that anytime I find myself with some spare time on my hands, I find some new project to fill it up. In the spring and summer, I spend at least one Saturday a month leading canoe trips and cleaning aquariums at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center near Annapolis, MD. Throughout the year, I serve as chairperson for the Smithsonian Institution Women's Council, an employee advocacy group. For the second year in a row, I am spending my fall helping with The Great Halloween Lantern Parade.

Held every year for the past decade in Baltimore's Patterson Park, The Great Halloween Lantern Parade is a truly unique event. The parade itself features stilt walkers, candle-lit bamboo and paper-mâché lanterns, giant floats, drums, costumed performers, and more. The parade is open to anyone who wants to be a part of it, and it's totally bilingual--English and Spanish. This year the parade will take place on October 24.

Nana Projects, a local nonprofit that specializes in community oriented, cultural performances, holds at least a dozen free lantern making workshops for families in the months leading up to the parade, not to mention the new "lantini" party for adults. Martinis, bamboo, paper mâché and flames--what fun! They also offer stilt walking classes and have a parade school to share their expertise with other local artists and community organizers.

Last weekend, I spent five hours at the Lantern Parade Studio on Eastern Ave., creating a shawl-like throw for a stilt walker to wear. Molly Ross, Nana Projects director, gave me a five-gallon bucket of strips of white Tyvec, a big piece of lightweight netting and a few instructions to work with. I cut the netting into an oval shape and cut a hole in the middle. I proceeded to tie the strips of Tyvec around the bottom and middle edges to create a "shawl" with white fringe around the collar and bottom edges. The costume will be worn by one of the stilt walkers and will look amazing, no doubt. The white will glow as light from the lanterns splashes against it and the "fringe" will sway and flow with the stilt walkers every move.

On the day of the parade--October 24--I will be lighting lanterns, providing logistical info to participants and helping students from a local charter school carry their float along the 45-minute parade route. The best part...I get to wear a fun costume! I will be dressed in an all-white jumpsuit with a hand-made, light-up "pagoda hat" on my head. The hat--which is an almost-14-inch-tall bamboo structure wrapped with paper mâché--is designed to look like Patterson Park's well-known pagoda.

I am seriously considering taking the stilt walking classes next year. After taking four lessons in stilt walking, newbie stilt walkers are ready (apparently) to brave the 45-minute parade route, up and down the hills of Patterson Park. According to Annie Howe, Nana Projects artist and professional stilt walker, the newbies bring up the back of the parade line. Apparently they don't move fast.

Patterson Park Pagoda

What's on my mind...

2009-10-09T07:01:00.000-07:00

President Obama won the Nobel Prize. His receiving the award is quite obviously a political move on the part of our European friends, but that's OK. The move shows support for the president's ideas and confidence in his ability to make those ideas a reality. Everything comes down to politics...

On NPR this morning a critic of the current administration faulted the President for not having made a lot of headway in bringing peace to the Middle East. What an unfair statement. The man has only been in office for 8 months! There has been fighting in the Middle East for thousands of years....

Enough about politics....

I am ready for the long weekend. I'm not big on the idea of commemorating Columbus, but the day off work is much appreciated.

I refuse to buy grocery store tomatoes. I'd rather go without than eat those things.

I also refuse to fall victim to the mass hysteria surrounding swine flu.

My Google Reader has well over 200 unread posts. I'm sorry for not stopping by your blogs this week, but I have been very busy with work. I promise to catch up on each and every one of your posts this weekend. Pinky swear!

Ahh Paris! In just over six weeks, I will spending my days visiting museums, wandering the streets of Paris, picnicking by the Seine, relaxing in Parisian cafes....By night I will be enjoying fine fromage and pain fraîche, and vin, lots of vin. I need to find out about Parisian DJs and best spots for EDM....

My lavender plant is blooming....that means gin time! I make the most delicious drink called a gin fizz, with Bombay Sapphire and lavender-infused simple syrup.

Jack and I go through 12 ounces of whole coffee beans a week. At $10 - $12 a pop, we are talking about a $600 a year coffee habit.

Tomorrow I am going to start my own little crash, refresher course in Spanish. I've been meaning to make time to practice my language skills for a while now.

Also on the agenda for this weekend is a bonfire party on the bay, a trip to the Baltimore Farmer's market, and helping at the Lantern Parade workshop. I plan to spend all day Monday in the kitchen, making ravioli, butternut squash soup, beef stew, tomato gravy and pesto to freeze for the winter.

Have a great weekend everyone! : )

Just when you thought I was an ungrateful little biznatch....

2009-10-05T12:48:00.000-07:00

I have racked up numerous awards (aren't I fabulous!) on this blog over the past few months that I just keep putting off posting. Well no more!

Here's how this is going to work....I am going to post each award that I have received, shower the person who gave it to me with compliments, and tell you about another blog that I absolutely love. Anyone I mention should feel free to accept and post the award on his or her own blog, or just smile, feel good about being loved and move on.

Margarita, over at Ramblings of a Fab Burnette, gave me the MeMe award. For this award, the recipient has to share seven tidbits of information about his- or herself. But, before I start with the "me, me, me" I want to talk about "her, her, her." Margarita is a creative, independent, intelligent, confident woman. She is not afraid to follow her dreams; I admire that. Margarita is in the middle of a move to Vancouver and is plugging away on starting her own cupcakery. Stop by her blog and wish her luck!

Seven things you may or may not know about me:

I used to have a belly button ring, but it was ripped out after being stuck to the netting of a catamaran while I was on a snorkeling trip in the Bahamas. I would have had to get rid of it by now anyway--I am too old to be rocking a bare midriff.
I never, never, never-ever want to have children.
I haven't dyed my hair since I was 15-years-old. I grew it out, long and natural, with the intentions of donating it to Locks for Love, but I became attached and never hacked it off. My hair has been flowing al naturale since.
I always refer to myself as being a "shy person," but none of my friends seem to agree.
Despite coming across as a cynic, I am a romantic deep down. Deep, deep, deeeep down.
I am completely and totally addicted to my iPhone.
When people discuss celebrity relationships as though they know the couple or otherwise have a vested interest, I want to choke them.

I am passing the MeMe award to Busty Satan. I started reading her blog just a couple months ago, and it has quickly become one of my favorites. Her posts are always insightful, and are generally short and to-the-point--perfect for a quick read. BS likes to laugh and drink tequila; I'm certain we would be friends in "real life" given the chance.

Travel & Dive Girl gave me the "Your Blog is Fabulous" award. Well, you know what? I think you're fabulous Travel & Dive Girl! When I'm having a tough day at work, I like to take a break and cruise on over to Journey & Adventure where I live vicariously through her. I can only dream of having the guts to scuba dive. (I tried getting certified and ended day 1 underwater with a panic attack and a resolution to spend the rest of the week on the beach...with beer.) Take a look at her amazing underwater photos. And, witness her unforgiving sense of humor. Seriously, check out her blog!

The recipient of this award is supposed to list 5 of his or her biggest obsessions. (And, pass the award to 5 other worthy bloggers, but I'm not doing that. Anyway!)

I don't know how big they are, but here are five things I obsess over:

Pockets--I can't stand pocket flaps that are folded, flipped or creased
Cabinets--I will never walk past an open cabinet and not shut the door
Discovering people's underlying motives--AKA paranoia
Design projects, web, graphic, whatever
Furniture placement--When I first moved in to my house and Jack refused to move the couches around the living room for the umpteenth time, I went and bought felt sliders so I could feed my obsession without his help.

Another blog that I think is totally fabulous is Nicole Antoinette's blog, More is Better, because really it's true. More is better! More Nicole that is! I often laugh out loud when I read her posts--she is exactly as she describes, "Deliciously Vulgar." Not only is Nicole funny and charming, but she uses her popularity for good. Every month, Nicole gives a "shout out" to a fellow blogger she deems worthy. Also, she is compiling a collection of essays to publish in a book, Quarter Life Memoirs: Epic Essays by 20-Somethings. If you're a 20-something who has a knack for writing, please submit your work to be considered for publication! Details for submitting your essay are on Nicole's blog.

Nicole from My Teacups in Peony gave me the "My Blog is Awesome" award. Nicole is one of the sweetest, kindest, warmest people I have ever known. Nicole is not only a great writer, but also a fantastic photographer. One of her recent projects, "It's a love story," was so heart-warming that even I, a self-proclaimed cynic, couldn't help but feel touched by the love stories she posted. Nicole is also one of the many wonderful people responsible for the blog Diamond in the Rough, which gives "undiscovered gem-type blogs some publicity and get them the fame they deserve!" Nicole spreads love and positive energy across the internet--I love her for that!

Another blog that is awesome is Lora's Oh, the Urbanity! FACT. Lora and I have been friends for like a bazillion years, despite her aversion to bamboo earrings and "South-Philly tuxedos." Oh, the Urbanity! features funny-interesting-sad-entertaining pictures of the "real" Philadelphia, all taken on Lora's cell phone. Her stealth shots have made her famous (at least in the Urbanity circle) and she has acquired a cult following, me included. Her blog inspired me to create the Charm City version.

Dani from A Daily Dose of Dani gave me all of the awards below. Thanks Dani! Dani doesn't post to her blog too often, but when she does her posts are always well thought-out and succint. She and I hold similar views on the world, and I always enjoy reading her take on current events. Now don't get the wrong impression, Dani's writing is not always serious...she writes about dating, pretty things and fun times too. Dani is well-rounded and awesome like that!

The Lemonade Award is given to blogs that shine with positive energy (at least that's my interpretation :) I am passing this award to Magaly at Pagan Culture. On her blog, Magaly tackles such important issues as dating outside your faith, explaining your ideals to your family, social justice, sexuality...you know, life. Magaly is an excellent writer with a big heart and pure intentions. No matter what your religion, background, etc., I think everyone can find something to relate to in Magaly's words.

Hey Hannah at Taunt, I think "Your Blog is Fucking Fabulous!" What makes Hannah's blog so fabulous? Her posts drip with sarcasm (for me sarcasm is right up there with ice cream on list of of likes) and her writing perfectly reflects her mood--sometimes happy and ready to get funky, and sometimes angry, like when she quit smoking.

The Sexy Blogger Award goes to Mr. Condecending, my not-so-secret blogger crush. I have never actually seen a picture of Mr. C, but something about him turns me on. ;) Maybe it's the way he oozes confidence, or his smooth way with words, I'm not sure. I just know that Jack better watch out!

All though I appreciate being called the "Queen of Alll Things Awe-Summm," I know someone truly deserving of the crown--Chef Green of Sauce on the Side. Chef Green is truly and utterly fabulous. When he's not preparing delicious dishes or dealing with resturant drama, Chef Green is drinking fine wine and stealing kisses beneath the stars. His flare and style come through in every word he writes.

I also have an award to post at my other blog, but I just don't have it in me right now....

This week, I.....

2009-10-03T06:41:00.000-07:00

...fasted in observance of Yom Kippur...
...decided what I want to do with my life and came up with an ad-hoc ten-year plan--all while in the shower....
...caught Jack acting utterly ridiculous on video....
...signed up to be a parade marshall at the upcoming Lantern Parade in Patterson Park...
...watched The Princess Bride....
...dealt with a whole lot of drama at work...
...received my custom-fit jeans from IndiDenim....
...read about Paris...
...had lunch with a childhood friend who I hadn't seen in years...
...organized a meeting for the SI Women's Council--I took over as chairwoman for this group earlier this year...
...completely ignored my to-do list...
...called to wish my mother happy birthday--she turned 54 yesterday...

Inspired by Jasmine at An Expirement in Poverty....

What kind of person do you want to be?

2009-09-28T06:56:00.000-07:00

I want to be happy, full of laughter.
I want to be focused and driven.
I want to be active in my community.
I want to love. I want to be loved.
I want to be proud of who I am. I want to be proud of my accomplishments.
I want to be beautiful, inside and out.
I want to be compassionate. I want to be passionate.
I want to remember what's important and life, not sweat the small stuff.
I want to be kind, warm and open.
I want to know where I stand. I want to be grounded.
I want to explore my creative side.
I want to be fair.
I want to be curious, a life-long learner.
I want to be a loving and caring daughter, partner and friend.
I want to move forward.
I want to be able to admit when I'm wrong.
I want to be appreciative of all the wonderful people in my life. I want to be appreciated.
I want to be self-confident. I want to be self-aware.
I want to not be afraid.
I want to take chances.
I want to follow my heart.
I want to be the best person I can be.

* Today is Yom Kippur, perhaps the most important of all the Jewish holidays. The week between Rosh Hashana--the Jewish New Year--and Yom Kippur, is a time for self-reflection, a time to commit to being the person you want to be, a time to forgive, a time to recognize an accept that you are not perfect. Whether you are Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Pagan, Hindu, Baha'i, whatever, I encourage you to ask yourself, "What kind of person do you want to be?"

-- Post From My iPhone

I apologize for cross posting, but this is really important to me

2009-09-24T03:47:00.001-07:00

All over Washington, D.C.

How is it that the fat used to make the most delicious canolis in the city is now being banned by law, but gadgets like these that allow people to be lazy mfers are not getting any criticism? Hey government, why don't you leave my Italian pastries alone and go do something helpful like passing a telecommuting bill or finding a way to give schools better funding.

-- Post From My iPhone

What's on my mind

2009-09-14T16:23:00.000-07:00

Some days I wish I were a cat. I would love to lay around the house all day, being stroked and soaking up the sun.

Be good, or be discreet.

I have great legs. My ankles are delicate and feminine, and my calf muscles are firm and defined. What do you love about your body?

A third old friend has re-entered my life...what is going on in the universe!?!

I've finally reached a point in my life where I know that I could be happy anywhere, doing anything. My happiness is not situational or circumstantial, it is part of my essence, my soul.

To-do lists, appointments, big plans, tough choices...life is hard. Wonderful, but difficult at times.

Our time on this planet is short. How can I make the most of mine? I know that I can't live forever, and I wouldn't want to, but it would be nice to leave this world having made a difference. It's not recognition I seek; I just want to know that there is a purpose, a meaning to my life. Sometimes it feels all for naught.

There's the beginnings of a poem I wrote in my blogger drafts, but I'm not sure I have the guts to finish it, much less hit publish.

I am really tempted to buy a pair of the sparkly pink go-go boots I saw online...But, when can a respectable girl like me ever wear something like that?

my strange little world

2009-09-12T11:47:00.000-07:00

Some of my favorite blog posts to read are those with short random snippets, so I've decided to explore that style myself. Thank you Lizzi, Brandi, BustySatan and Lora for being my muses.

I accidently bought "light" lager. Ughh. Should I put it out of its misery and toss it off the back porch?

Kayaking is my favorite hobby, because every time we get a few inches of rain I blow off all my chores and hit the rapids. It's nice to live in the moment, even if it's only for a moment.

I'm trying to lose a few pounds before my trip to Paris in November, so I downloaded an app to count calories called "lose it." It seems that the only way for me to trim up and maintain my drinking habit is to skip dinner. That can't be healthy.

Forgiveness is what Yom Kippur is all about, but I can't help but wonder if some actions are simply unforgiveable.

Speaking of Yom Kippur, I am thinking of fasting this year. After my birthright trip to Israel this past March, I have a renewed desire follow Jewish customs that I had given up on.

When I dance, I feel like the whole world is smiling.

Beets are delicious but they turn my pee an odd shade of pink.

Have you ever tried marañón? It's the fruit that produces cashews. When you bite into it, all the moisture is sucked out of your mouth and your tongue feels rough and dry like a cat's.

Whenever I say "Maryland," I say it like "Mara-land." I'm egotistical like that.

I'm supposed to be working....

2009-09-10T06:55:00.000-07:00

The lovely Lizzi tagged all of her readers for this meme. Now, I am tagging all of you!

Available or married?
Not married, but not available either

Best Friend?
All my friends are great! I haven't used the term "best friend" since my "break up" with Jessica at the beginning of this year.

Cake or Pie?
I don't discriminate!

Drink of choice?
Again, I don't discriminate! Shots of tequila? I'm game. Irish whiskey? Count me in. Dirty martini? Hell yeah! Dark rum? Delish! I'd go on but I think I may have revealed too much already.

Essential item for every day use?
Dental floss

Favorite color?
Red--I'm a hooker like that.

Google?
I don't know how we ever lived without it! Though, Iamhalal search engine may give google a run fo its money. This new search engine aimed at Muslims keeps the intenet clean. Try looking up "boobs." "Oops! Your seaech inquiry has a Haram level 3 of 3. No boobs for you!"

Hometown: North East, MD

Indulgences?
Booze, fine cheese, shoes

January or February?
January

Kids and their names?
"Papi chulo" and "Puss cat" aka "Pie"--cats are the closest thing to children I will ever have.

Life is incomplete without?
Music...the world stops spinning when the beat stops.

Marriage date?
201?

Number of siblings?
0

Oranges or apples?
Since apples are fresher in this part of the world, I'll have to go with gala or honey crisp apples.

Phobias and fears?
Heights

Quote for the day?
"Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves," Carl Jung

Reason to smile?
Smiling and laughing is good for the soul :)

Season?
Summertime

Tag 3 people?
You, you and you!

Unknown fact about me?
As much as I yap, there's not much unknown about me. I'll give it a shot though...I was almost expelled from high school the spring of my senior year.

Vegetable you hate?
I have never met a vegetable I didn't like!

Worst habit?
I wear my emotions on my sleeve.

X-rays you’ve had?
Femur, wrists, teeth, spine,

Your fave food?
Pad Thai, Guatemalan style tacos, gallo pinto, mee krob, schwarma, falafel, steamed crabs, latkes...I could go on for days, really.

Changing seasons

2009-09-09T08:05:00.000-07:00

Summer is my favorite time of year. Nothing beats long, sun-filled days, trips to the beach, fresh-steamed blue crabs, and garden-fresh tomatoes. The warm, muggy nights of summer are perfect for dancing under the moonlight or drinking beers with good friends in the backyard. Everything is alive in the summer. By August's end, plants are reaching for the sky, lush and green, and there's something fun and exciting going on every weekend. Summertime is youthful and energetic, a time for play.

I spend the beginning of each fall lamenting summer's end, but this year I am feeling something new. This year, as the weather cools and the days become shorter, I find myself standing face-to-face with the brevity of my existence.

Summer has turned into fall, which will soon turn into winter, then spring. Another year of my life will have passed me by.

Time has become a precious commodity. The hopes and dreams that I have held dear to my heart, yet at arms-length, are suddenly prominent in my mind. My desire to break free, to escape the rat race, to do something that really matters is burning and urgent.

If I don't take a chance and follow my dreams soon, will I ever? Will the daily grind that my life has become consume me? As I approach 30, I worry that I will become complacent and settled in my ways, whatever they are.

I am torn. I find comfort in the predictable and secure life I have built for myself, but I yearn for spontaneity and adventure. I want it all. I want nothing. I want to feel connected, but I feel like running. Running back toward the idealistic person I once was, the life I once lived, before so many summers had passed by.

Reconnecting (Part 2)

2009-09-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

When I wrote Reconnecting (Part 1), I had envisioned that Part 2 would be a follow-up post describing how the newly reforged relationship was faring. Since then however, another person from my past has reappeared in my life. I don't know what's going on in the universe.....

I got a phone call from an unknown number last week, which I promptly diverted to voicemail. Standard procedure for me.

A few minutes later, my phone beeped to indicate that I had a new message. I played the voicemail and heard a small and wavering voice on the other end. It only took a couple of words..."hey Mara"...and I knew who it was immediately. The message was long and apologetic..."sorry I stopped calling you....I miss you.."

The story about how I lost (or at least thought I had lost) this friend is similar to the one I told last week, except this girl and I go way, way, way back. I'm talking back to our days of diapers and pacifiers back.

We were best friends through all of our childhood. We spent our weekends joined at the hip, jumping on the giant trampoline in her yard, playing in the creek, tromping through the woods and tormenting her little sister who always followed us around. We shared everything from an innocent crush on Peter from GhostBusters to boogie boards on the beach in the summertime.

We were inseparable until middle school

That's when her parents decided that I was a bad influence on their daughter and forbade her from hanging out with me for a year or two. Of course we still saw each other in school until I moved to another town in eighth grade. Now in different schools, we started to make different friends.

By the time high school rolled around, we were in completely different "social circles" at completey different schools. That didn't matter. We still referred to one another as "my best friend." I went through many other "best friends" during this time, but she was a constant. Always.

She was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on after being verbally abused by my drug-addict father. She was there when I quit the soccer team because my interests had shifted from sports to weed. She was there all the times I got grounded for sneaking out of the house or stealing the family car. She was there when at age 15 I had to leave school and go to outpatient rehab. And, she was there during my final two years of high school when I continued to struggle with my to be clean. She was always there.

After high school, I went off to college and she didn't. It was my best friend's turn to lose herself in an altered state of concsciousness. Just when I was cleaning up my act, she was tumbling downhill. Fast.

I won't go into the details, but at her lowest, she was shooting heroin and stealing from her work. Actually, the stealing may be what saved her life. She got caught and was sentenced to probation and mandatory in-patient rehabilitation.

I tried to be there for her. I visited her when she went to the halfway house. I listened to her babble on about god and how if she could just give herself to him, she would be OK. I did my best to accept the ex-addict, ex-drug dealer, ex-homeless guy she claimed to love.

I tried until she stopped answering my phone calls. After a few months of not hearing from her, I got a card in the mail saying she loved me but couldn't be my friend anymore.

Maybe she sensed my disgust of the way she was placing her new-found faith in god instead of in herself. Maybe she knew I secretly hated her new boyfriend. Maybe she couldn't stand to see me doing so much better than she was. Maybe she wasn't doing better at all. Maybe she couldn't stand hanging out with someone she used to get high with. Maybe I'll never know her reasons.

It took me a couple of days to muster up the courage to call her back after hearing that voicemail. I wondered what I would say, what she would say, would it be awkard, until I finally just made the call.

She aswered the phone, "Hi. Mara?" Before I could say anything, she started talking: "There's something I have to say..." She told me she was sorry that she hadn't contacted me in years and that she really missed me and hoped I could forgive her for being a "bad friend."

I told her that I understood and that she could have waited 50 years to call me; I still would have picked up the phone and been happy to hear her voice. With those few words, 26 years of friendship were salvaged. No more apologies or explanations needed.

Giveaway at My Tea Cups in Peony

2009-08-31T05:40:00.000-07:00

The amazing, fabulous and fantastic Nicole from My Teacups in Peony is hosting a giveaway to celebrate reaching 200 followers. Be sure to stop by her blog to say hello and enter for a chance to win!

Reconnecting (Part 1)

2009-08-27T09:31:00.000-07:00

Over the years, I have had friends come and go from my life. Sometimes these relationships have quietly fizzled out after running their course, and other times they have ended in explosions of intense emotions and hurt feelings.

Throughout high school, I had a different best friend pretty much every year. First there was Rikki, then Nikki, then Jessica. I shared many unforgettable experiences with each of these girls, but in the end we grew apart. It's only natural I suppose.

After high school, I moved to Philadelphia. I met my first real friend in the "City of Brotherly Love" when I started waitressing at the Irish Pub on 20th and Walnut Streets. I was the youngest waitress on staff and most of the girls were standoffish to me because of it, but not this girl. She was nice to me from day one. Our friendship started with taking cigarette breaks together at work and quickly turned into wild nights at bars we had snuck into with fake IDs, dancing until the wee hours of the night, and hanging out at my apartment, eating cheese, acting silly and generally having a good time.

When I was going through some rough times and needed a place to live, she was the one who took me in. We shared her big two-bedroom apartment in a crappy section of South Philly for a couple of years before I moved away. We were great roommates, at least at first.

This friend who had always liked to get fucked up, had taken fun and partying to a whole new level. She would bring strange men back to our home and not remember their names in the morning. She often left food cooking on the stove or in the oven all night after passing out drunk. We would wake up to an apartment full of smoke and a ruined pan. On more than one occasion, I had to bust down our bathroom door because she had passed out with her head over the toilet and the bathroom door locked. Finally it got to be too much, I started spending most of my time at the apartment on Mifflin Street that my bestfriend (at the time) was renting. Eventually, I left Philly and moved to Baltimore. The ex-roomie and I kept in touch.

One night when I was back in Philly visiting, another friend and I ended up having to take this girl to the hospital after she passed out on the dance floor at a bar. One minute she was dancing, the next she was unconscious. We didn't know what she had taken. We feared the worst and took her to the hospital. After that night, this friend held a grudge against me for years. She blamed me for her hospital debt. She felt betrayed. That was the end of our relationship. Or so it seemed.

Earlier this year, this friend got back in touch with me. She called me and told me that she had been to therapy and wasn't partying so much and was doing much better all around. She told me she missed me. I missed her too. We decided to give our friendship another shot.

If I told you it was the same as it was before, I would be lying. Our lives changed in the years we spent apart, and we are both apprehensive about baring our souls to one another to reveal the people we have become.

I'm hoping that are friendship will rebound, not to what it was but to something new and equally as wonderful. We seem to be getting there, one step at a time.

We started with a few long telephone conversations. Then, she came to visit me at my new(ish) house in Baltimore. And, now we have plans to spend Thanksgiving together IN PARIS!!!

I was pretty shocked when she called to ask if I wanted to take a trip together. In fact, I'm pretty sure she only asked me because I'm one of the few people she knows who would be able to afford a trip like this, but that's OK. The trip will give us a chance to reconnect and get to know one another all over again.

Making a difference

2009-08-26T05:34:00.000-07:00

Frustrated and annoyed with the garbage and dog shit piling up in the alley behind my house, I decided to take action and host a community block clean-up this past Sunday. I was very pleased that two people actually came out to help Jack and I pick up garbage, sweep up broken glass, shovel animal waste and pull up weeds. I honestly didn't expect anyone to show up to help on a sweltering hot August morning.

Even though the army of concerned neighbors I assembled for the clean-up was relatively small, our work made a difference. Not only is our alley in much better shape than it was before, I got to meet a number of my neighbors who may not have helped with the work but did take the time to stop by and introduce themselves to me and thank me for what I was doing.

I started noticing other small changes as soon as one week after I passed out the first flier notifying my neighbors of the clean-up. That very next weekend, I witnessed one neighbor cleaning up her backyard, and the owners of the Highland Clipper Club on the corner of my block finally picked up all the cigarette butts that their patrons had tossed on the sidewalk. Then, last night when I went to bring our trashcan back into our yard, I noticed that three of my neighbors who had previously just tossed bags of garbage into the alley had actually purchased trashcans with lids and even neatly labeled them with their addresses.

If you have been following my blog for a while, you may remember me first talking about hosting a community block clean-up back in May, and you may be thinking, "Gee Mara, I thought you were a go-getter. It took you how many months to pull this together?"

The reason for the delay is that I was trying to get a grant from the City, from a local nonprofit or from an environmental group, to pay for the supplies for the clean-up. No such luck. Most organizations I contacted had no money to give, and those who did have grant programs available said my neighborhood didn't fall into the City's "target areas" (aka my neighborhood isn't ghetto enough to receive assistance).

I was however able to borrow brooms and shovels from the Highlandtown Neighborhood Association. That groups leader, Kevin Berhnard, is awesome! He helped me through the planning process and was even one of the two guys who came out for the clean-up.

The funds for the weedkiller, contractor bags, gloves and drinking water came out of my own pocket. But, you know, it was totally worth it. I am going to do one of these clean-ups every month, with our without the City's help.

Getaway

2009-08-19T15:01:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, Jack and I escaped from the hustle and bustle of the city and spent a few days at his family's rustic cottage in Penn's Creek, PA.

Penn's Creek is a quiet place in Amish country that sits in the foothills below the Appalacian Mountains. Here's a few pictures...

Cottage

Across the road

Penn's Creek

Bald Eagle State Forest

-- Post From My iPhone

The pro-lifers are at it again

2009-08-13T05:51:00.000-07:00

Pro-life activists are demanding that "health care reform must be abortion free," and the most conservative among them are outraged that the proposal includes funding for preventative birth control and sex education.

Apparently, if we don't tell our children about sex, they will stay pure, untainted virgins forever. And, birth control…well that’s just wrong. I mean, who are we to “play God”?

Once a year, pro-lifers descend upon our nation’s capital to “make their voices heard.” They carry signs with pictures of dead babies, which if you know anything about human development, depict babies that are developed well beyond the point at which you can legally have an abortion. They cause delays on Metro, jamming their signs into closing train doors and screaming their viewpoints in commuters’ faces. They litter the ground and vandalize the buildings with “life” stickers. They are by far the most obnoxious and forceful group of protesters I have encountered in D.C.

I find it quite ironic that so many supposed pro-lifers are against abortion but for the death penalty. (70% of republicans consider themselves “pro-life,” and 80% of republicans are for the death penalty.)

Also ironic is the fact that republicans claim to be against “Big Government” yet they are more than happy to let the government all up in my uterus

In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I am pro-choice. This does not mean that I support abortion—I support a woman’s right to decide what she does with her own body.

That’s the beauty of pro-choice—there’s room for everyone. If you believe that abortion is murder, then you may chose not to have an abortion or to force your knocked-up teen to have her baby and give it up for adoption.

However, if you are a scared, pregnant woman who is not ready to care for a baby or a rape victim that was inseminated by your aggressor, well you can chose to terminate the pregnancy.
See that, pro-choice offers a win-win situation.

I get around

2009-08-12T05:30:00.000-07:00

I'm over here today, guest posting for the lovely K13's blog while she is soaking up the rays down the shore. This is my first time guest posting, so please head over to "Someday I'll Get There" and show me some love and check out K13's blog!

My own skin

2009-08-03T10:14:00.000-07:00

It seems that all women struggle with self-esteem issues, especially when it comes to their physical appearances. I am no different. I have spent pretty much my entire life feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.

When I was a pre-teen I read an article in some beauty/fashion magazine that listed the bodily dimensions of the top super-models at the time. To this day, I remember the inadequacy I felt comparing my own body to these women's impossible proportions.

I was the tallest girl in my class at the time and I wore a 32C bra. Developing at a young age is really tough on girls. I was treated differently, not only by my my peers but by adults too. I was actually sent home from school one day for dressing "too provocatively." I clearly remember the colorful, striped, wide-strapped Stussy tank-top that caused all the trouble. I can also recall defending myself in the principal's office, stating matter-of-factly that my shirt was no more revealing than the shirts that the other girls were wearing. And, I will never forget my disciplinarian's response: "You're different from the other girls. You are causing a distraction for the boys." According to him, it was my fault that the pubescent boys in my class were more interested in boobs than in mathematics.

Sometime around that same period in my life, I developed an eating disorder—the classic binge and purge technique. I also started taking diet pills, which I got from a friend who stole them from her older sister. I wound up getting suspended for 10 days and sentenced to drug treatment/therapy at the local family health clinic when I got caught with them in school.

It wasn't until my early 20s that I would even consider wearing a bathing suit without shorts in public. I was in a horrible car accident when I was nine years old that left me with a huge scar down my left thigh and what is now a barely discernable limp. I spent the next decade obsessed with and embarrassed of my "disfigurement."

By the time I entered high school, I was attracting a lot of attention from older men who would try to pressure me to do things with them that I wasn't ready to do. I remember when I was 14 years old being at a house party and this guy Mike had cornered me in a bedroom and was forcefully pushing me onto the bed. Luckily for me, someone heard me yelling and busted through the door to yank the scumbag off of me. On another occasion, I was left on the side of a road after refusing to give a guy a blow job in exchange for a ride home.

At 16 years old, I started dating men in their 20s. I saw nothing wrong with it then, but now it literally makes me feel sick to my stomach. If I had a 16-year-old daughter bringing 20-year-old men around, heads (or nuts) would roll. Being sexualized my men at such a young age wrecks a young girls self-esteem....

I moved out of the house immediately after graduating from high school and moved into an apartment in Philly with my boyfriend at the time. He was a 22-year-old bum with no job. My mother was completely opposed to the idea and cut me off financially. That's how I wound up working multiple waitressing and odd jobs to pay my way through college and to support myself—and my boyfriend who never seemed to keep a job.

When the bum boyfriend first started showing signs of aggression, verbally abusing me, punching holes in the apartment walls and busting up my things, I just ignored it. I guess years of being emotionally abused by my drug-addict father had led me to believe this sort of behavior was acceptable. It wasn't until he shoved me down the staircase in our apartment building that I finally left him.

I will never forget that night. We were in the apartment arguing. Fed-up, I went into the bedroom and called my friend Nadine to tell her I was coming to the little South-Philly bar she was working at. I needed to get away. The boyfriend heard me on the phone and stole my shoes to try to stop me from leaving. He started pushing me out the door, barefoot, screaming at me to "go ahead and leave then." He pushed me hard the last time, and I fell down the stairs in our apartment building hall. I jumped to my feet and ran out the door. Tears streaming, barefoot, I walked down Washington Ave. towards the bar. I called Nadine, and she informed me that she had called the police and they were on the way to my apartment, so I should go back and have them take me inside to get my car keys and some things to come stay with her.

When I got back to the apartment, there were two police cars. The boyfriend was screaming at the cops, and when he saw me, he threatened to kill himself if I left. I left anyway. I left him with the apartment and everything in it and moved into Nadine's place. He didn't kill himself.

For the next couple of years, I hated men. Really hated them. Maybe I had always hated them....I certainly didn't trust them.

Jack has helped me through a lot of my issues with men. We were friends for years before we started hooking up. It took months of dating exclusively before I would call him my boyfriend and even longer before I would stop flinching when we had even the slightest disagreement. He is so unbelievably patient with me...

Until now, Jack was the only person I had ever told about a lot of the things I have written about in this post. It feels really good to get these things out. I feel one step closer to becoming "comfortable in my own skin."

Top of the World

2009-07-28T09:33:00.000-07:00

During the week, I stress about my job, my commute, my bills, my "to do" list.

But the weekends are mine. I am the queen of my destiny and the ruler of my universe. I am on top of the world!

House guest

2009-07-26T08:00:00.000-07:00

Mr. C from Advice and Humor from Mr. Condescending has invited himself to spend a night in my home. Presumptuous, I know.

And, he's not just asking to spend the night, but he expects me to wine, dine and entertain him as well. Well Mr. C, you're in for a treat at my house! Here's how our night would go....
The evening would be begin with appetizers and wine in my cozy living room. I would serve a bottle of Montecillo Gran Reserva, a lovey Spanish red, and one of my favorite appetizers, roasted beets with fresh goat cheese and mint from my garden.

When it was time for me to start making our main course, I would leave you to peruse my books shelves. Here's what you would find--every book ever written by Isabel Allende (they're in Spanish, but for you Mr. C, I'd be willing to translate) and books about Taoism, Buddhism and other forms of spirituality. I have a nice collection of Calvin and Hobbes books too.

You'd also find guidebooks from the many "exotic" places I've traveled to, books about local hikes and wildlife and cookbooks.

Here's my favorite cookbook. I got my awesome Mole Poblano de Guajolote recipe from this Hot & Spicy cookbook. This dish takes two full days to prepare--the sauce is made of dried, roasted chiles, almonds, raisins, cocoa, and more.

My most cherished recipe is not from a cookbook. It's written on a loose sheet of paper and includes such non-specific instructions as "cook it until it's done." The recipe for pastel de pollo was given to me by my madre tica, the woman who fed and housed me when I studied abroad in Costa Rica.

Anyway, back to our lovely evening Mr. C....

For our main course on this night, we'd have grilled Tilapia

with a tomato and fresh herb salsa, garden-fresh green beans and rice pilaf.

Our meal would be accompanied my mojitos, made with the chocolate-mint from my garden. We'd enjoy our meal and drinks in my lovely backyard.

How does that sound, Mr. C?

Let me count the ways

2009-07-23T04:58:00.000-07:00

What I love about Jack.....

He pets my hair until I fall asleep each night.

When he makes me a sandwich, he cuts it into four pieces and turns the pieces of bread so I have the perfect amount of crust in every bite, just like I like.

He smiles the biggest, most-genuine smile when he dances.

He's not afraid to be silly. Just last night, Jack and I sat around making up ridiculous songs to sing to our kitties. "Puss-cat, puss-cat, why you bug-gin'?"

His kisses are deep and passionate.

In the six years that we've been together, he has never raised his voice at me. Not once. This is not to say that we don't have disagreements. We do. But, Jack stays calm when we argue and never resorts to intimidation or personal attacks to win a fight.

When I ask him to do something, he always responds, "as you wish."

I have never know Jack to falter on a promise to me, to a friend, to a family member or an associate for that matter.

He treats his mother like a queen. My mom always told me, "You can tell how a man will treat you as his wife by the way he treats his mother."

Serenity

2009-07-20T17:47:00.001-07:00

IMG_0068
Originally uploaded by Mara J.

Another design project

2009-07-16T17:04:00.000-07:00

Ok, now enough playing. I need to pack...My mom and I are going to Ocean City for the weekend.

Me, Me, ME!

2009-07-16T06:20:00.000-07:00

The oh-so-fabulous Margarita at Ramblings of a Fab Brunette tagged me for the MeMe award.

Recipients of this award are supposed to share seven things about themselves and tag seven fellow bloggers to do the same, so here goes...

It's all about me!

I often visualize my own demise. For example, when stepping out of the shower, I see myself slipping, falling over the side of the tub and breaking my spine. Or, when I'm making a turn, I imagine my power steering going out, losing control and wrecking head on into the guardrail. Morbid, right?

During my junior year of college I took a leave of absence from my regular university to take a semester at la Universidad de Costa Rica in San Jose, Costa Rica. That experience, combined with the six weeks I spent in Guatemala doing volunteer work after I graduated, opened my eyes and changed me forever.

Growing up, my mother and I had a very strained relationship, to say the least. When I graduated high school, I moved out and got an apartment with a boyfriend. My mom didn't approve and I was cut off financially. About a year into paying my own way, I called home and apologized for being a horrible daughter. Eventually, I got rid of the scummy boyfriend and even spent the last quarter of my senior year living at my parents' house.

I don't understand--and never have understood--the allure of drinking games like beer pong and flip cup. Card games like Rummy and Poker are fun, but I don't need to play games to drink. I can pound my liquor without being forced, thank you very much.

I am not a "girly girl." I rarely wear make-up. When I do, it's mascara and translucent powder. And maybe some tinted Burt's Bees. I can't scream one of those high-pitch, horror-movie style screams. My voice is just too sultry for that frequency. I don't squeal. I'm not afraid to get dirty. I prefer sneakers to heels. (Though I do have some red patent-leather stilettos that are to die for). I can't hold a conversation about celebrity relationships, shopping, reality TV or make-up. With, ease I spout out words that many women are embarrassed to even hear. I don't freak out at the sight of an insect or rodent. I do get pedicures regularly though......

The only sport I like to watch is soccer. D.C. United games are so much fun. There's this group, "La Norte," that comes to every match with war paint, drums and smoke bombs. They sit in the crappy seats, behind the goal on the north-side of the field. I have always wanted to join them, but I never see any women in their section. I'd probably be eaten alive.

When I was a cocktail waitress, all I wanted to do was finish college and get a "real" job. Now that I have a "real" job, I pine for the days of slinging drinks, sporadic work schedules and late-night partying. I guess it's true what they say--The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

I tag....
Lora (because I know how much she loves talking about herself ;)
ShansPLC
K13
Amit
Fidgeting Gidget
Extranjera
Novelista Barista

Perfect

2009-07-12T12:49:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had one of those days where everything just seems to fall perfectly into place?

Yesterday I had planned to drive down to a stained glass supply shop near D.C. to buy red, orange, and copper and gold-flecked glass for my next mosaic project. I'm designing a mosaic for the front of my raised flower bed to match the wind catcher that Jack got be for my birthday back in April.

At the last minute, just before Jack and I walked out to the car, I decided to call the shop and make sure they were open. Good thing I did. The shop owners were away on vacation, according to the recording on their answering machine.

I went back to the drawing board (aka my Mac) and searched for another stained glass store. I found one, just 15 minutes up 95 in Baltimore County. Jack and I drove out there only to find that the shop was also closed. "Summer Vacation" said the sign on the door.

Hungry and still determined, Jack and I headed to Hampden, a section of Baltimore made popular by John Waters' films where artists studios and shops, and restaurants and bars line the streets. Maybe we could find stained glass supplies there?

Our first stop was Cafe Hon. We had beers and eyed the menu, which did nothing for us. Again, technology to the rescue! I whipped out my iPhone and opened the Urban Spoon application I had recently downloaded. I waited for the app to find my "current location" and I pressed "nearby." A list of restaurants came up, with Rocket to Venus getting the best reviews.

Convinced, we walked up 36th St. and took a left on Chestnut Ave. On our walk, I pointed out to Jack a few pieces of glass-metal sculptures on a number of storefronts that appeared to be made by Steve, the same artist who did the beautiful piece that hangs in our living room window. Just before reaching Rocket to Venus, we happened to pass by his studio! We stopped in and talked to Steve, who also happens to be a friend of Jack's sister, about his work. I happened to mention to Steve that I was getting into mosaic art and he promptly toured me around his studio, proudly showing off his shelves full of different size sheets of colored glass. He even offered to save me all of his scrap pieces of glass for my projects and sent me on my way with a bag full of copper scraps that I can hammer out and incorporate into my mosaic!

We said goodbye and crossed the street to Rocket to Venus. Closed until 5 p.m. Not willing to wait another half hour to eat, we walked back to 36th St. and stumbled across a new BYOB called King's Grille. Imagine my excitement when I saw shawarma and falafel on the menu outside. A place to relive my trip to Israel through cuisine! The food was delicious, and the owner, originally from Egypt, was as warm and welcoming as could be. I left him a $10 tip on our $17 check. I was on cloud nine.

Here's a picture of some of the tacky, errr unique, art you will find in Hampden. Visit my other blog to see more pics from that day.

Honest Scrap

2009-07-09T15:56:00.001-07:00

For me? You shouldn't have!

Joe Ordinary—who's anything but ordinary in my book—at Ink for Thought and SarahBeth—a super cool chick who's not afraid of a challenge—at My So Called Life tagged me for the Honest Scrap Award.

This award recognizes bloggers who "keep it real," and as blog awards go, it comes with a couple of rules:

- Tell your readers 10 things about yourself that they may not know.
- Tag 10 fellow bloggers for the award.

I'm breaking the rules and only listing 8 things and only tagging three fellow bloggers...

I broke my left femur in a car accident when I was 10 years old. Because of the accident, and years of subsequent surgeries, I now have mechanical scoliosis and a serious scar all the way down my thigh. Having a gnarly scar and a limp during my pre-teen years definitely did a number on my self-esteem.
Saying "no" is really difficult for me, both in my personal life and at work.
When it comes to music, I'm all about the underground baby! The only radio stations I ever listen to are National Public Radio and 99.1 El Sol, our local Spanish-language radio station.
Despite my hot high-top kicks, ghetto hoops, crooked hat and city-strut, I'm secretly a tree-hugging hippie. Maybe this isn't as big of a secret as I'd like to think....
Earlier this year I convinced my boss to let me move into a Web content manager position, despite having no formal training in the field.
Back to self-esteem issues. I have had a horrible time adjusting to my new, late-20s voluptuous figure. I have almost no clothes that fit me, because when I try to go shopping I wind up frustrated and angry or crying in the dressing room. Pathetic, huh?
I often find myself completely disenchanted with the United States, its policies and people. Maybe that's a direct result of working in Washington, D.C.
When I eat a sandwich, its contents must be perfectly proportional for every bite. I cut my sandwiches into four equal pieces and turn the bread so I get just the right amount of crust in every bite.

I would like to pass this award to:

Garf
Nicole
Haley

I do. Don't I?

2009-07-09T10:40:00.000-07:00

If you've followed my blog for a while, you probably know how I feel about marriage. I wrote about it here. And here.

For me, accepting that Jack and I will get married one day has been a lot like the grieving process.

Stage 1, denial. "I'll never get married," I told him when we were first dating.

Stage 2, anger. A couple years in to our relationship, Jack told me that he wanted to marry me someday. Threats were made.

Stage 3, bargaining. "I can't marry you until you finish your degree." "I can't marry you until you start your career," "...until your credit card debt is paid off." "...until...until," until I ran out of excuses.

Stage 4, depression. I would say I was more doubtful than depressed. "Will things change when we're married?" "What happens if we grow apart?" "What if he changes his mind and decides he wants kids? What if I do?" "What if, what if, what if?!?"

Stage 5, acceptance. Last month, Jack told me that he intends to propose by the end of the year. I didn't freak out. I didn't make any threats or excuses. I didn't ask any questions. I just smiled and thought about what my answer will be. Yes. I will say "yes." I just hope I can say it with enthusiasm. I am terrified of my reaction when Jack finally does pop the question. What if I am not happy and excited when he asks? What if I still have lingering fears and doubts that he can read on my face when I respond? It would break his heart.

Keepsake

2009-06-30T05:37:00.000-07:00

I received this lovely "Keepsake Blog Award" from Garf at A Garf Secret. A testament to technology's awesome power to connect people, I have had the pleasure of getting to know Garf, who lives on the other side of the globe in India. He is a kind, generous and thoughtful person, who values love, happiness, kindness and friendship above all else. Who couldn't get on board with that?

The "Keepsake Blog Award" is on of my favorite blog awards out there, because whoever receives it is supposed to post a photo of a keepsake that they hold dear to his/her heart.

Just like looking through an old photo album, objects can remind us of fond memories, of loved ones who have long-passed, and of our former selves.

These ceramic elephant plant stands that now decorate my home belonged to my grandma Libby. She had them at her apartment in Baltimore, and at her apartment in Perryville. And, at her apartment in North East. My grandmother followed us each time we moved to a new town--she always lived within five or ten minutes of us.

She smoked like a chimney, so her apartment walls had a slightly yellow tinge. These elephants guarded the entry of each of her apartments, topped with spider plants with waxy leaves that touched the floor. When I was really little, I liked to run my hand along the smooth, cool ceramic and drive my matchbox cars around the base. I always loved these elephants, and just before my grandma Libby passed, she gave them to me.

My grandma was not the kind of grandmother who brought you gifts and baked cookies, but she did knit me lots of sweaters. Itchy, wool sweaters that I hated but my mother made me wear. As a kid, I didn't understand that each sweater was stitched with love.

She had a nasal voice (think Fran Drescher, without the Queens accent), a sharp tongue and a critical eye...and don't think she cut me a break just because I was her only grandchild. When I was in fifth or sixth grade, I had a tie-dye folder with a peace sign on it. My grandmother took one look at it, sneered and said "What are you some kind of hippie now? I hate hippies. Your mother was a hippie, you know." That was my grandmother. She was hard on those she loved, and she certainly loved me.

Tell me about one of your treasured keepsakes?

My first mosaic!

2009-06-27T18:25:00.001-07:00

I took an intensive mosaic class at the Creative Art Alliance on Saturday.

The class was led by local artist Rick Shelley.
His work is amazing.
He created this beautiful map mosaic for the Walters Art Museum.

Mosaics are my new favorite art-form to create.
Cutting and breaking glass is quite therapeutic.
Arranging the pieces is like doing a puzzle,
without any wrong answers.

Part of me regretted spending the day indoors
—Saturday was a gorgeous day—
but seeing my finished mosaic sparkle made it all worthwhile.

I ordered glass cutting tools online last night.
My next project will be to mosaic the raised flower bed Jack and I built in spring.
I need a lot of practice before I can start my big mosaic project next year.
It's all part of my plan to beautify my little corner of Baltimore.

Reversing a trend {week 6}

2009-06-25T05:26:00.000-07:00

Each week (or so :) I post a compliment to myself and a compliment to a friend. The goal of this project is to help myself and all the amazing women I know to embrace our inner-beauty.

I have an adventurous spirit. Without hesitation, I have traveled alone to foreign countries. Without fear, I tested my paddling skills last summer by taking on a stream with raging post-storm rapids. I've trekked through the Andes Mountains, camped at the bottom of a crater in Israel, climbed a volcano in Nicaragua, danced at a rave on a desert-island off the coast of Honduras, and tried surfing in Costa Rica. I've eaten everything from quail eggs to raw conch straight from the seafloor, and from guinea pig to tepezcuintle. If you're looking for a road-trip partner, I'm your girl.

Nicole of Nicole K. Photography is an amazing photographer. She is able to capture the essence, beauty and character of a person on film in a way that few others can. Just look at these powerful photos she took of a soldier and his family for Operation: Love Reunited. Or, these amazing images she took of a friend's new baby. Nicole is also one of the photographers team behind The Littlest Heroes Project, a nonprofit with a mission to "help provide and capture memories for families who are dealing with hectic schedules due to having a child who is suffering from a serious illness or life altering disability."

I addition to her shear talent and good will, I admire Nicole's ambition to use her passion to start her own small photographic services business. How awesome is that!?! Nicole specializes in family, baby and maternity shots and is considering adding wedding photography to her offerings. If you're in the Maryland-D.C. area and need a photographer, check out Nicole K. Photography!

It's nice to feel loved

2009-06-23T05:05:00.000-07:00

Since yesterday's tragic Metro accident, friends and family have been calling me to make sure I wasn't on one of the trains that collided.

My mom was the first to call. When I picked up the phone and said hello, the first words out of my mother's mouth were "thank god you answered." She proceeded to tell me about the collision on the red line, which apparently had happened right in the middle of my commute. On the red line.

I had spent 30 minutes stuck on the tracks near Gallery Place with no information except, "there's been an incident ahead." It wasn't until my mom called that I knew the severity of the "incident."

The next phone call came from my friend Stephen in Philly. Word travels fast. Then Jack's parent's called to make sure I was OK. Within three hours of the collision, three people had called me. By 8 a.m.this morning another friend had sent me a concerned text message.

It's nice to know that there are people out there who care about me. It's nice to feel loved.

I can, I will, I should...

2009-06-22T12:24:00.000-07:00

I can't...stand having to wait...do a cartwheel...imagine life without cheese...believe it's only Thursday....sing worth a damn,

but I can...speak Spanish...keep dreaming...take time to stop and smell the roses...kick your ass in Rummy...drink most men under the table...see past superficial bullshit.

I won't...take "no" for an answer...budge on my beliefs...play the blame game...step on people to get ahead...watch reality TV shows,

but I will...tell Jack everyday that I love him...drop everything to help a friend in need...accept responsibility for my actions...never stop learning.

I shouldn't...think about work on the weekends...feel bad about things I can't control...take things so personally...worry so much,

and I should...write an "updates" post, it's long overdue...quit smoking...exercise regularly...learn to control my road rage.

What's in a name?

2009-06-22T07:18:00.000-07:00

In modern Judaism in the United States, it is customary to give your child two names--one a secular, English name and the other a Hebrew name. Hebrew names always have a meaning--it's an important part of Jewish culture. I have known my Hebrew name my whole life, but I never knew what it meant until I went to Israel this past March.

"Nechama," he said, the letters of my Hebrew name rolling off his tongue smoothly and naturally, "means compassion." "It's a beautiful name, but it comes with a lot of responsibility. It's your responsibility to care for and help your family and loved ones."

At first his words stung. I slowed my pace and dropped back from the hiking group, allowing myself to be alone on the trail that snaked through hills and hills of yellow wildflowers in northern Israel, along the border of Lebanon. With each thump of my hiking boot against the hard, packed dirt, dizzying thoughts rushed into my mind--I don't deserve my name. I haven't been living up to my responsibility. I don't have the capacity to care. I can't live up to the responsibility I have been given. I don't want the responsibility. I didn't ask for this.

I thought of my father who I can't seem to forgive for all that he did to me as a child. I thought of how I gave up on my junkie (ex)step-sister and her new baby. I thought of how I don't talk to my grandparents as much as I should because of my strained relationship with their son. I thought of my tendency to drop out of people's lives when I feel we are growing apart.

Images of every person I had ever given up on or let down swirled in my head until my mind simply went blank.

With my mind quiet, I again became aware of the buzz of the bees busily moving from flower to flower. The happy voices of my fellow group members hung in the air around me, and the babble of the stream became audible. I found comfort in my steady hiking pace. One foot in front of the other.

Then it happened. Acceptance.

I am a compassionate person, but I can't care about everyone. It's OK to pick and choose those who are worthy of my concern. I can't help everyone, and that's OK. There's simply not room in my heart for the disappointment and pain that so often comes from caring to much. Those in my life who are good, those in my life who are deserving, they are the ones I have a responsibility to.

Nechama. A name I've had my entire life suddenly meant so much.

My mad design skillz

2009-06-19T19:03:00.000-07:00

Reversing a trend {week 5}

2009-06-13T11:00:00.000-07:00

Each week I post a compliment to myself and a compliment to a friend. The goal of this project is to help myself and all the amazing women I know to embrace our inner-beauty.

I am a great cook. My signature dishes range from Latino-delights like pastel de pollo and mole de guajalote to Asian-inspired meals like pad thai and mee krob. I think that my creativity and willingness to experiment, combined with my skill at separating out the flavors in the food I eat, are what make me a great cook. I know. This compliment to myself was kind of lame. I'm only on week five, and it's getting hard to find something nice to say about myself :(

Floreta at The Solitary Panda is one tough chick. In fact, she recently earned her 2'nd level white belt in poekoelan, a style of martial arts from Indonesia. Through her study and practice, Floreta has not only learned to kick ass but has achieved a level of self awareness that I completely respect and admire. She is among the most introspective people that I have ever meet in the blogging community, or in real life for that matter. She accepts and explores her sexuality and other primal urges. She writes poems wrought with emotion and explores her artistic side. She writes intelligently about her views on society and she openly shares her life experiences, past and present. To sum it up, Floreta is awesome. Read her blog!

This one hit too close to home

2009-06-12T05:07:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday morning, 39-year-old Stephen Tyrone Johns woke up and put on his uniform, carefully placing his hat and tightly lacing his boots. He probably rode the Metro to work that morning, with his mind occupied on the mundane details of his life--What do I have to do this weekend? What's for lunch in the cafeteria at work today? Should I switch to satelliet?

The Metro doors opened at Smithsonian Station and Johns stepped off. He entered the Holocaust Memorial Museum--1 1/2 blocks from where I work--and took his post at the front-door security checkpoint. It was a day just like any other. Except it wasn't.

Johns watched as tourists passed through the metal detectors and he searched their bags carefully following protocol. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, around 1 p.m. a man walked through the front doors of the museum wielding a rifle. He opened fire in the crowded vestibule. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Five or six shots are fired, Johns has been shot. The wound is fatal. Just like that a man's life is over.

My recount of Johns' morning before the shooting is pure speculation, but the details of his tragic death are not. This man woke up and went to work, just like he would on any other day, except this time he didn't make it home.

The shooter was an 88-year-old anti-Semitic, white supremacist. He shot up the Holocaust Memorial Museum to show the world his hate for Jews. For my people. My family. Me.

Writings attributed to the gunman on the Internet say the Holocaust was a hoax and decry a Jewish conspiracy to "destroy the white gene pool." Reading these words make my mouth go dry, my head throb and my eyes fill with tears.

I have relatives who are Holocaust survivors and had relatives who were not so lucky. My great grandfather was believed to have been murdered by the Nazis. My grandfather Max spent his entire adulthood searching for answers, but his father's body was never found. My grandfather's brother, Bernard, can recount horrific tales of Jews being shot point-blank in the head by Nazi soldiers right in public. My great aunt Sarah almost died of starvation in a ghetto in Poland and narrowly escaped death by assuming a false identity.

To deny the Holocaust is to deny my family history and to devalue my loved ones' pain and suffering.

After this tragic event, this disgusting hate crime, I feel an array of dizzying emotions from anger and fear to guilt and a sense of responsibility.

I am angry at those who hold hate in their hearts and have no respect for the life.
I am afraid that something like this could happen "in my own backyard."
I feel guilty for all the times someone has used "Jew" as a derogatory term in front of me while I stood silent instead of standing up for myself and my people.
I feel a sense of responsibility to share my family's story, to let people know that the Holocaust was real. The people who died was real. The emotional scars left on the survivors and their families are real. I am real.

Lists, lists, lists...I love making lists.

2009-06-09T04:35:00.000-07:00

I make lists of things to I have to do—pay bills, pick up dry cleaning, call mom, clean kitchen.
I make lists of things to buy —bananas, apples, cucumber, cilantro, yogurt.
And, lists of things I want for the house—juicer, bean bag chairs, composter, new computer desk.

Once I write something on a list, it becomes my focus, my obsession, and I must GET IT DONE. Unfortunately, I have a nasty habit of making impossible lists with a flurry of bullet points and a dizzying array tasks, which I then stress over completing.

Since I don't expect to change anytime soon, I've decided to embrace and exploit ~~my OCD~~ this minor character flaw by making a new list. This list will not feature errands to be run or necessities to purchase, instead this list will contain things I have been wanting to do but have not had time to do. I figure that if I make the list, I will make the time.

»» My List

Speak Spanish more often. I used to speak Spanish fluently, but it's been years since I've used it on a daily basis so my vocabulary and pronunciation are suffering. More importantly, I have lost confidence in my language skills and find myself too shy to speak with Spanish-speaking people. I will suck-it up and shell out the $400+ for Rosetta Stone, levels 4 & 5, and get my practice on and my confidence up.
Explore a different neighborhood of Charm City each month and takes lots of photos for my other blog.
Design and launch a Web site for my friend Lora's up-and-coming nonprofit Wednesday Spaghetti. A couple of weekends ago I bought a brand-new 24-inch imac and the entire Adobe Web Premium Creative Suite—I've got the tools, so it's time to get crack-a-lackin' on this project!
Quit my gym membership and use the monthly savings to justify purchasing an iphone to accompany my new imac. They will play so nicely together!
Prepare to "break ground" on my public art mosaic project by the end of next summer or early next fall. The wheels are churning and the ideas flowing. I will write about some of my ideas for this project later this week, so be sure to stop back by!
Finish remodeling the basement. Jack and I completely gutted the basement last year, but have done nothing since. We are planning on creating a laundry/mud/storage room, building a bathroom, and having a TV/exercise/dance floor and turntable area. There will be bold color paint and glitter involved.
Put together a professional digital portfolio of my Web- and graphic-design projects.
Cook one new dish a week. Maybe my Scrumptious Saturday! ladies will volunteer to be my guinea pigs?
Make time to practice yoga and pilates more often.

Aspirations of world domination

2009-06-05T04:50:00.000-07:00

The entire world will beg to bow before me, their charismatic despot. MUUUUUUAAAAHHH!

I am often accused by friends and co-workers of plotting to take over the world, but I assure you, I don't really have aspirations of world domination. I mean come on, what kind of arrogant prick would I have to be to believe I could rule the entire planet? I'm just looking to change my immediate surroundings for the better. Is that so wrong?

My most recent undertaking (what is this a morgue? anyway....) is a grand plan to clean up and beautify my block.

The neighborhood I live in could be described as "transitional" or "up-and-coming." If you walk three blocks east, you come to half-a-million dollar condos, but walk three blocks north and you'll find a "blue-light district" with drug dealers on every corner.

My block is somewhere in the middle. There's no one yelling "ready-rock, ready-rock, I got the rock" on my corner or anything, but there are some lingering sketchy corner bars where gun fights are the norm, and there's a lot of garbage on the streets and no one cleans up after their dogs.

Instead of sitting around and passively bitching, I have decided to take action. I am applying for a "block beautification" grant from the city. If it works out, I will assemble a small army of neighbors to pick up garbage, plant flowers and kill the weeds that plague our sidewalk and back alley. I also hope to use the money to get trash cans, with lids, for all my neighbors.

Also, I am attending a Highlandtown Arts! meeting next week to find out about tax breaks for community art projects and to meet representatives of local art groups. This is step one of my goal to turn the big, blank, brick outer wall of my home (I have an end unit rowhome) into a canvas for a giant, sparkly mosaic. Step two is to take a class on making mosaics, where I will learn to cut glass and mirrors among other techniques. I am thinking that I will do a mosaic garden scene, with the help of some local arts organization. Finding an organization to collaborate with will be step 3.

So, there it is. My (not-so) evil plot to "take over" my block.

Reversing a trend {week 4}

2009-06-03T05:15:00.000-07:00

Each week I post a compliment to myself and a compliment to a friend. The goal of this project is to help myself and all the amazing women I know to embrace our inner-beauty.

I don't judge people based on superficial standards. My friends range from scientists and educators at prestigious institutions to career bartenders and construction workers. I have friends who grew up on the streets, as well as friends who lived in mansions as kids. If you put all of my friends together in a room, you'd think you just stepped into a commercial for the UN or something. My friends come in all shapes and sizes, all colors and shades, all religions and sexual orientations. I even have a friend who's a Republican. GASP!

This is not to say I am indiscriminate. Just this weekend a friend of mine, gave me an interesting compliment. He said: "When I first met you I couldn't figure you out. I couldn't understand why you got along with me but didn't like my friends. I thought you were snobby, but then you wouldn't like me...." He continued: "You aren't snobby, you just know what you have and appreciate it."

My friend hit it on the head. I am not snobby. What I am is a real-no-bull-shit person. I judge people and accept them as friends based on their ability to laugh at life and themselves, their willingness to talk openly and honestly, and the way they treat other people . I don't see eye-to-eye with all my friends on everything, but I respect their convictions and confidence in their thoughts and beliefs.

Life is too short to allow yourself to be bogged down with people you can't trust, people who aren't nice or people who don't treat you well. You have a choice. I have a choice. I choose to surround myself with "real" people. Fuck da' bullshit!

The Wife in Stilettos is a strong, brave woman. Around Mother's Day, she wrote a series of beautiful poems to her mom. To open-up and speak honestly in such a public way takes a lot of guts. Also, not to long ago, I read a post by The Wife in Stilettos where she wrote: "We're in limbo. The husband and I may be in Canada today, but we quite frankly don't know where our shoes may take us tomorrow." I respect and admire her ability to face life's uncertainties shows with a care-free and fearless attitude.

She recently (by recently, I mean sometime last month) bestowed upon me "One Lovely Blog Award." Thanks lady!

Be sure to check out The Wife in Stilettos!

Funny stuff

2009-05-26T16:29:00.001-07:00

For those of you who don't know, I also have a photo blog. Check it out!

The small things

2009-05-25T12:38:00.000-07:00

I've been tagged by Nicole at My Teacups in Peony to list six seemingly unimportant things that make me really happy.

1
.1 Hills of yellow flowers make me grin ear-to-ear.

2. Goofing off with my honey.

3. Checking things off my to-do list

4. Bubble baths

5. Eating ripe, red tomatoes from my garden

6. Lazy Sundays

Love note, from Jack

2009-05-22T04:38:00.000-07:00

The hours flash by....
Days turn to weeks, weeks to
months, and months to years
Yet the intoxication of your love remains.

- Jack

Reversing a trend {week 3}

2009-05-20T05:25:00.001-07:00

Each week I post a compliment to myself and a compliment to a friend. The goal of this project is to help myself and all the amazing women I know to embrace our inner-beauty.

I am not afraid to be silly. I like to make silly faces, interject witty (read:immature) commentary into conversations and break out cheesy dance moves like the "grocery cart" on a crowded dance floor. This may sound like a strange compliment to give myself, but I feel like not taking yourself to seriously is an important quality to have.

Lizzi (Life According to Lizzi) is a creative and talented artist. She's an excellent painter, photographer and writer. Even more impressive than her shear talent is that Lizzi does not allow her roles as a mother, a wife and a working professional to keep her from exploring her creative side. She makes time for self-expression and is bold enough to post her work to a blog and share it with the world.

I met Lizzi in the blogosphere earlier this year. Since then, we have become modern-day pen pals, reading and commenting on one another's blogs and keeping the conversation going through e-mail. I am certain that Lizzi and I would be real-life-flesh-and-blood friends if we weren't separated by 2,000+ miles....

Just last week, Lizzi bestowed upon me the "Queen of ALLL Things Awe-Summm!!!" award. Thanks Lizzi!

Before I can officially accept my crown, here's what I am supposed to do:

1. List 7 things that make me Awe-Summm

2. Pass this award onto 7 deserving bloggers

3. Tag said bloggers and link back to who tagged you

Here's my list:
1. I make silly faces at strangers.
2. I make people laugh.
3. I am willing to try anything, at least once.
4. I can rap my favorite ghetto-tek tracks at 160 beats per minute.
5. I am a good cook, and my dishes range from Latin American to Israeli inspired.
6. I love to learn about everything and anything.
7. I am friends with people of all different backgrounds.

And, here is a list of seven bloggers who I think are totally awe-summ!!!!! Be sure to check them out.

1. Chef Green at Sauce on the Side
2. The Wife in Stilletos
3. Jasmine at An Experiment in Poverty
4. Floreta at The Solitary Panda
5. All the wonderful women at Wednesday Spaghetti
6. Diane at The Pits
7. ShansPLC at Word.

Hollywood in Poliwood

2009-05-15T18:03:00.000-07:00

Friday was no normal day at work. The Smithsonian hosted a press junket for 20th Century Fox's new movie, Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian.

Mega-stars, camera-flashing paparazzi and red carpets are not normally part of the poliwood scene, where we consider Senator Feinstein and Chief Justice John Roberts celebrities. So you can imagine that having Robin Williams, Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, Ricky Gervais, Hank Azaria and Amy Adams here in D.C. was a big deal.

On Friday, I stood by while Extra's anchor interviewed each of these celebs, two at a time. When Fox yelled, I jumped--grabbing phone numbers, hushing gathering crowds of excited tourists and keeping inept visitors out of the crew's shot.

I am not the type to get star-struck, but it was absolutely amazing to hear Robin Williams casually joking about the goofy looking tourists that had rolled up on segways. (Segway tours are all the rage in D.C.) I just kept thinking, "I am in the presence of one of the funniest people to be alive in my lifetime."

Also, Owen Wilson is way hotter in person. (On TV he comes across as a little to "pretty" for my taste.)

I didn't actually meet or shake hands with any of these celebs, but Ben Stiller gave me his signature, super-cool "hey" when I passed him in the hall on the way out of a press conference.

Anyway, the movie opens this Friday. It's super cute--go see it! (Besides, every dollar the movie makes, the Smithsonian gets a cut. How often do you get to support education, preservation, research and conservation [read: keep Mara in a job] by going to the movies?)

Photo by Ken Rahaim

Reversing a trend {week 2}

2009-05-13T10:50:00.000-07:00

Each week I post a compliment to myself and a compliment to a friend. The goal of this project is to help myself and all the amazing women I know to embrace our inner-beauty.

I am motivated. My motivation is intrinsic--it comes from within. I am on a never-ending quest to better myself and my position in life. I set goals for myself, and I achieve them. Throughout high school I held two two jobs to save money for college. When I was in college, I decided that I wanted to work at the Smithsonian and nowhere else. Three unpaid internships later, I got the job offer. Now that I have the job, I realize that this is not the way I want to live my life, rushing around, working overtime and dealing with office politics. No. This is not for me. I want to be my own boss, and I will.

Natasha is passionate. Through her poetry, Natasha bares her soul with intricately woven words that are sometime delicate and other times harsh. She writes constantly and performs often, allowing life to be her muse. She doesn't hold back. Natasha encourages others to express themselves, supporting fellow writers and collaborating with other local wordsmiths.

Taking a break from grad school, Natasha is currently focusing all her energy on getting her name and art out into the world. She has already been published a couple of times, as well as invited to be a featured performer at a number of poetry/spoken word venues. I know more opportunities and good things are coming her way!

Dirty little secrets

2009-05-12T10:22:00.000-07:00

I own a pair of gold, bamboo earrings that are at least 4-inches in diameter.

My car hasn't been cleaned out in over a year.

I proudly display a "Pimp of the Year" trophy on the TV stand in my bedroom.

I am smoking again.

My greatest fear is that I'm exactly like my father.

My errand-running outfit is a teal, velor track suit.

I constantly doubt myself.

I talk to my cats, usually in English, sometimes in Spanish and occassionally in "meows."

I have seen the movie Clueless at least 20 times.

My new nickname "MJ" makes me smile--I never had a nickname before.

I am the worst at cliches--I say things like "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free."

I am terrified of marriage.

I wish I were the "hugging type."

I often go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink.

The universe works in mysterious ways

2009-05-11T10:34:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, Jack and I were sitting at Brewer's Hill, a local pub, talking about our plans to build a raised flower bed in the backyard. I asked him if he thought we could get the 10 bags of rocks and the 16+ bags of dirt we were going to need into my car or if we should just rent a truck. Suddenly, one of the guys sitting next to us at the bar, chimes in: "You need dirt? I have a truck-bed full of it that I need to get rid of."

With that, we paid our tab, bought the guy a six pack of Coors Light and pointed him to our house. He pulled his pick-up into the alley and we (by we, I mean he and Jack) shoveled the dirt from his truck into a pile just outside our yard. This saved us about $100!

The very next day, we built this lovely raised flower bed.

Reversing a trend

2009-05-06T09:26:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week, Jasmine at An Experiment in Poverty, and I were talking about the sad fact that there are so many wonderful, beautiful and competent women who suffer from low self-esteem. Instead of going on a tirade about how fashion magazines teach little girls that you have to be thin and pretty to be liked and about the unspoken expectation that women be good mothers, wives, housekeepers and hostesses all while holding down 9-5 jobs, I have decided to tackle the problem head-on.

Each week, I am going to post a compliment to myself and a compliment to a friend.

I am competent. My life--like anyone's life--has been like a roller coaster ride, full of ups and downs. But, no matter what life throws my way, I can walk away a stronger person. I have made mistakes. It's only human. But, my mistakes do not make me any less of a person.

Lora (at Jakezilla) is someone I know I can always count on. If you need advice, talk to her. She will look at your problem objectively, without making you feel stupid for not being able to do so yourself.

I met Lora about a decade ago--we were both waitresses at an Irish bar in Philly. I don't remember much about the Lora I first met, except that she liked whiskey and making silly faces. We weren't great friends back then, but we kept in touch and grew closer over the years. I'm not sure what she saw in me, but I always liked Lora because she was didn't--and still doesn't --allow others to tell her how to live her life. She refuses to conform to society's definition of what a woman--a wife, a mother, a daughter, a professional--is supposed to be. Lora is just Lora, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Eco-warrior, part 2

2009-05-05T09:17:00.000-07:00

Taking the city by storm! I am on a mission to beautify my city through a little act I like to call "renegade gardening." Here's how it works:

I scope out a patch of unkempt land, like this grassy patch behind my house:

Then, I sprinkle wild flower seeds onto the ground and hope for the best!

After my weekend renegade mission to beautify my own block, I set-out spread blossoms across the city. I hit a couple of wild, weed- and garbage-covered hills of West Baltimore while I waited for the train this morning......Where next?

Eco-warrior, part 1

2009-05-03T13:05:00.000-07:00

Last weekend there was a festival in my neighborhood,
Go Green! Baltimore.

I became a "block leader" for a neighborhood beautification project.
Jack won a huge basket of green cleaning products.
We planted lettuce to grow in the backyard.
And we won a rain barrel.

We will use the water we collect from our roof to water
our tomatoes, herbs and other plants.

Next, we are going to build a raised bed and connect a drip irrigation
system to the barrel. (By drip irrigation system,
I mean a hose with holes poked in it!)

Keepin' it real

2009-04-24T05:31:00.001-07:00

Fidgeting Gidget, a fellow 20 Something Blogger, gave me the "Honest Scrap" award last week. Be sure to check her out!

While I appreciate all the awards I receive, I especially like this one--and not just because it makes my blog look oh-so tough! This award recognizes bloggers who write honestly and openly and encourages more straightforward and candid conversation by obliging recipients to list 10 honest things about his/her self. Here goes:

1) When I hear people talk about how their father walked out on their family, I am actually a little jealous. Sometimes not knowing is better.

2) I am driven by guilt. Every action I take to better myself and the world around me is an attempt to ward off the guilt I would feel for doing nothing.

3) I was in a horrible car accident as a child and have mechanical scoliosis, an irrational fear of doctors and extreme road rage as a result.

4) Despite my high-power D.C job and urban lifestyle, I am [not so] secretly a dirty hippie.

5) You wouldn't know it from my relative success in life and innocent appearance, but I have a sordid past.

6) Jack is the one person in this universe that knows all the secrets of that sordid past.

7) It took 20 years for me to begin calling my step-dad, just "dad."

8) My dream is to own a small, eco-friendly bed and breakfast in Costa Rica or Panama.

9) I am the most un-photogenic person on earth.

10) I am relatively good at everything I try to do. This is a curse. When I encounter something that causes me to struggle, I just give up.

Now it's my turn to pass on this great award! Here is a list of five blogs I believe embody the spirit of the Honest Scrap:

Happy Friday!

2009-04-24T05:09:00.000-07:00

The Novelista Barista tagged me in a survey, so here goes:

Eight things I look forward to:
1) Becoming my own boss (one day!)
2) Kayaking season
3) Weekends!
4) Seeing my friends turn their creative talents into careers
5) The day my crazy-ass kitten finally settles down
6) Sipping gin fizzes while sitting on my patio on hot summer days
7) Getting together with friends I haven't seen in a while
8) Fresh, local grown tomatoes

Eight things I did yesterday:
1) Wore a suit with sneakers
2) Received a very nice compliment from a friend
3) Researched Web development training opportunities
4) Drank beer from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag
5) Snuggled with my kitten
6) Drove through the hood with my windows down and Reggeaton blaring
7) Begged my boyfriend to give up his secret plans for my birthday (He knows I hate surprises!)
8) Walked 1.5 miles

Eight things I wish I could do:
1) Do a headstand
2) Bring peace to the Middle East
3) Surf
4) Quit my job and move to the tropics
5) Speak Hebrew
6) Solve world hunger
7) Break-dance
8) Carry a tune

Eight shows I watch:
1) Bones
2) House
3) NCIS
4) George Lopez
5) Sponge Bob Square Pants
6) That 70s Show
7) Seinfeld
8) King of Queens

Instead of tagging specific people, I encourage all of you to complete this survey!

I even teared up a little bit

2009-04-23T09:12:00.000-07:00

Lora at Jakezilla (And Oh, the urbanity!...and other secret places in the blogosphere), wrote a post containing some the nicest (and most sincere) things anyone has ever said about me. Here's what she said:

First I'll tell you why I love Mara. I probably already have somewhere in my archives, but bear with me.
I met Mara millions of years ago when we worked at a bar together.
She wore a lot of glitter on her face and hung out at warehouse parties and raves. I did not.
She was a teenager. I was 25.
I didn't think we would get along. I was wrong.
You wouldn't have known it by looking at her back then, but she is one of the smartest, bravest, kindest people I have ever met in my whole entire life. Mara owns Mara and everything that Mara does and Mara tells the world to either lend a hand or fuck off while she works hard to change the things that need to be changed and keep strong the things that need to be kept strong.
There aren't many people in the world you can say that about.
Thank you, Mara, for being such an amazing person and for teaching me that I can't judge a book by it's sparkleysparkley glowstick-slinging awesome-sneakered incredible-titty teenaged cover. It's a lesson I've held close to my heart all these years and it has allowed me to find the beauty and value in people no matter what they look like. Or do from 2am until the break of dawn.
And I miss your eyeshadow and think you should totally bring it back especially now that you have a High Power Government Gig at the DC Castle.

Not only did Lora's compliments give me a major ego boost, but she reminded me of a past self.

Sitting here in front of my dual-screen computer at my Castle office in Washington, D.C., wearing a three-piece suit, it's funny to think back to my "sparkleysparkley glowstick-slinging awesome-sneakered incredible-titty teenaged" self. I was even able to dig up an old photo....

Starscape 2000
(Yes. That goof with me is Jack!)

Charm City!

2009-04-18T06:23:00.000-07:00

For those of you who didn't know, I also do a photo-blog called "Oh, the urbanity! Charm City edition," where I post funny and otherwise interesting photos taken in and around Baltimore.

Hope you like it!

Would you give your right foot to get to work?

2009-04-17T08:52:00.000-07:00

How about your head? Or, maybe just all the contents from your purse?

Walk into any major Washington D.C. Metro station during rush-hour and you will see commuters, wearing business attire with sneakers, risking life and limb to cram onto crowded trains in an effort to shave a measly three minutes off their commute.

Let me set the scene for you:

It's 7:15 a.m. on Friday morning, my eyes-lids are heavy and my walk slowed. (I'm nursing a serious hang-over from one too many Hangar One Mandarin Blossom shots the previous night.) I step off the escalator just as a train is arriving.

The commuters already waiting on the platform group together around the doors and those just getting to the platform take off running towards the train. The chimes sound. The doors are closing. People are becoming frantic.

Just as I look up at the marquee and see that another train in coming in 1 minute, a middle-age woman leaps through the doors into one of the cars, crashing into the other riders who put out their hands to catch her. With the doors almost totally shut, a man decides that one minute is just too long to wait and sticks his right foot inside. The doors, which do not operate like elevator doors, slam against his foot.

The man remains stuck for a few seconds before the doors reopen to let him pass. Another man takes advantage of the situation and hurriedly hops onto another car. He makes it but his back-pack doesn't. Now he's pegged against the doors with his bag stuck outside. Luckily for him, the doors reopen half-way. He quickly pulls his bag into the train, the doors slam shut and the train takes off down the tracks.

Another train pulls up 30 seconds later.

For me? You shouldn't have!

2009-04-17T07:09:00.001-07:00

I recently joined "20 Something Bloggers," a group very enthusiastic and supportive group of bloggers with lots to say. Since joining 20SB, I have added a number of new blogs to my reading list, gained new readers and even received an award from The Novelista Barista! I am happy to have met Novelista in the blogosphere--she is super-friendly, very open and shares my love of travel and desire to make this world a better place. Be sure to check her out!

This award is dedicated to those who love blogging and love to encourage friendships through blogging and seeks to find the reasons why we all love blogging.

Each person who receives the award is obliged to show thanks by posting the award on his/her blog, giving a shout out to the person who gave the award, and to answer the following question: "Why do you love blogging?"

Blogging helps me deal with the craziness that life throws at me--I sort out my emotions and thoughts through writing. Also, I love the community aspect of blogging. Through blogs, I meet and connect with people I probably would never have had the opportunity to know otherwise. People really are more the same than different--the abilitiy to build support networks of friends from all over the world through blogging proves it!

Without further ado, here's a list of five bloggers with whom I'd like to share this award:

Lora at "Jakezilla"
Lora introduced me to this whole blogging thing, so I can't think of a more worthy person to receive an award for people who "love to encourage friendships through blogging." Lora is a great writer, who is not afraid to tell it like it is and encourages two-way communication with her readers.
Joe Ordinary at "Ink for Thought"
Joe Ordinary writes from the heart and has been all over 20SB trying to make connections with other bloggers and find new ways to encourage his readers to engage in conversation.
Patrick at "Engineering My Life"
A very active member of 20SB, Patrick writes about everything and anything, from politics to daily life. Check him out!
Greg Santos at "Tactical Diversion"
Tactical Diversion is unique, creative and hysterically funny. Greg encourages readers to submit their own content to be published on his site. He was one of the first people on 20SB to welcome me to the group.
Lizzi at "Life According to Lizzi"
An artist, writer and mother (and much more, I'm sure!), Lizzi's blog posts are always insightful, yet light-hearted and visually interesting. If you leave a comment, Lizzi is sure to keep the conversation going by responding back.

What really matters

2009-04-16T09:22:00.001-07:00

A friend of mine recently offered this tip: Ask the people you meet about their passion, what they enjoy or how they made a difference today, instead of just asking about their job, where they live and what their marital status is.

I think that's a great tip. In fact, her words have inspired me to tell you a little about me. Not about my work, my home or my relationship, but instead about the things I'm passionate about, the things that bring joy to my life and the things I do for other people.

I am passionate about social justice; being a life-long learner; forming lasting connections with people of all backgrounds; cooking; experiencing the world; and being honest and open, no matter the cost.

Dancing to a funky beat til' the sun comes up; spending time with loved ones; and being alone with my thoughts on a hiking trail bring me great joy.

I help others through volunteer work, from helping educate the public about environmental issues as a volunteer canoe guide, to encouraging family-work balance through the initiatives of an employee advocacy group I lead at my workplace. In the past, I volunteered as an arts and crafts teacher for an after-school program, as well as worked as a volunteer Spanish-English interpreter at a free health clinic for the uninsured.I am always seeking a new opportunity to give back to the community.

Now, I ask each of you reading this post: What are your passions? What brings you joy? What have you done to make a difference in someone else's life?

About me

2009-04-13T05:31:00.000-07:00

1.) What is your first name? Mara..I am named for my grandmother Mary and my grandfather Max. 2.) What is your favorite food? Cheese with fruit and fresh baked bread...smoked gouda, feta, mozzerella, manchego, you name it! 3.) What high school did you go to? North East High School...4.) What is your favorite color? Red...lI;m wearing my red business suit as I type. 5.) Who is your celebrity crush? Adam Sandler...Yeah, I'm a dork. 6.) Favorite drink? Mojitos...I grow mint especially for making this cocktail. 7.) Dream vacation? New Zealand... 8.) Favorite dessert? Angel foodcake with fresh strawberries My mom makes me one every year for my B-day. 9.) What did you want to be when you grow up? Marine biologist... 10.) What do you love most in life? Freedom...to love, to chose, to live... 11.) One Word to describe you. Real...I don't BS, so don't come to me for advice unless you want to know w. 12.) Your Flickr name. Mara J....http://www.flickr.com/photos/35813724@N07/sets/

Do you want to do this?

1. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.

2. Using only the first page, pick an image.

3. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into FD's Mosaic Maker.

Scrumptious Saturday: The Back Story

2009-04-05T05:06:00.000-07:00

Last night my friends Emily, Christine and Melvin, Alena and their son Andy came over for the first-ever Scrumptious Saturday. We had good conversation, great eats and plenty of wine. The meal was a tribute to my recent Israel trip and consisted of falafel, sesame coated chicken, Israeli salad, labenah, hummus and sour cabbage salad. Emily brought some delicious hamantashen, a cookie with fruit filling that is traditionally served for Purim.

I had made hummus from scratch before, but it was my first time for the other items. Everything turned out fabulously, except the hummus, which was seasoned to perfection but had too crunchy a texture. Anyway, to pull this menu together, I started cooking and grocery shopping at 8 a.m. yesterday morning. I love spending an entire day in the kitchen, with Jack assisting, some happy house music pumping and wine flowing (after noon, of course).

The idea for Scrumptious Saturday--a weekly, low-key dinner that all my fabulous friends are invited to attend each Saturday--is inspired by Lo ra's Wednesday Spaghetti, as well as by my recent experiences in Israel.

Here's a journal entry I wrote during my trip that explains what I mean:

Written March 7, 2009

This is the first opportunity I've had to sit down and write since my Birthright trip to Israel began. I don't even know where to start.

Traveling in a group of more than forty people has certainly been interesting for me, to say the least. When I travel, I like to blend in, observe my surroundings and take my time. A group of forty is imposing. When we were shopping in Jerusalem at the Mahan Yehuda shuk for rugala, pomella fruit, baklava, "kisses" and other goodies to celebrate Shabbat, we were blocking every sidewalk, stepping into traffic and generally acting like loud, typical American tourists.

Can you tell I'm Jewish? My journal entry about an amazing and FREE trip to Israel begins with bitching. I'll stop now.

This trip really has been amazing so far--full of firsts. This is my first time to the Middle East. Two days ago I experienced a weightless sensation for the first time while floating in the Dead Sea. Yesterday, I hiked for the first time in the desert, around the rim of the Ramon Crater. I also celebrated Shabbat for the first time last night.

While I don't see myself becoming a more religious person, I would like to incorporate the concept of Shabbat into my regular life.

For those of you who don't know, Jewish people believe that you work very hard all week, and then on the seventh day, Saturday, you rest.

Shabbat begins Friday night at sundown with a celebration that includes an elaborate home-cooked meal, plenty of wine and time with family and friends. You share, talk, reflect and enjoy all the things you work so hard for during the rest of the week. Then, on Saturday you take it easy until sundown when you party hardy. (Obviously this is the secular way to observe the Sabbath.)

I will never make it home after work on a Friday night in time to celebrate Shabbat on the proper day, but why not do it Saturday night/Sunday day instead? It's not the day that's important but the idea of celebrating, sharing and feeling thankful for all the things that bring happiness to your life.

Like traditional Shabbat celebrations, the day after Scrumptious Saturday (today) is my "day of rest." For me this means calling to catch up with friends and family, writing blog posts, taking walks through the city and maybe reading a good book. I refuse to cook (luckily, I have plenty of delicious leftovers from last night), clean or think about work, until sundown tonight.

Life is good.

Ramon Crater

Dead Sea

Mahane Yehuda Shuk in Jerusalem

Snorkeling in the Red Sea (Eliat, Israel)

2009-04-04T13:58:00.000-07:00

Written March 14, 2009

After putting on my mask and fins, I dipped my face into the crystal-clear, blue waters of the Red Sea and was greeted by an array of underwater life. Jellyfish, with short tentacles, expanded and contracted, moving gracefully through the water. I reached out my hand and allowed one to rest against my palm with my fingers curved gently around it. Colorful fish swam below, and a school of shimmering silver fish darted in unison like so together formed what looked like one big, magnificent organism. Spiny black sea urchins clung to the coral on the sea floor. I could hear my breathe, slow and steady through the snorkel tube, as well as the shrill sounds of the dolphins swimming around me.

Suddenly, two dolphins appeared before me. One playfully nudged a jellyfish before the pair swam just beneath me. I could feel their powerful tails moving back and forth, forcefully pushing through the water. Amazing.

Reflecting on my Birthright Trip to Israel

2009-04-03T12:08:00.000-07:00

Written March 12, 2009

After looking through the pictures I'd taken during my Birthright Trip to Israel, I knew what the trip leaders meant when they said, "this is not a vacation but an experience, an adventure."

In just ten short days, I have done everything from riding a camel in the desert to standing before the Western Wall in Jerusalem, and from scaling Masada before sunrise to learning about Kabbalah at an artist's gallery in the mountaintop town Safed.

Looking at the beautiful photos I took--which only capture a glimpse of the true beauty of this amazing country--I was shocked to find that what touched me most was seeing the smiles of the new friends I'd made.

How is it possible to connect with so many people on such a personal level in just ten days?

It was absolutely amazing to take a break from my "real" life and focus on getting to know new people and forming connections that I expect to last a lifetime.

Aviva and Emily, I'd like to thank you both for being awesome and open people--you were great roommates!

Thanks to Pam, Ariel, Ashley and Liz for an awesome last night, and to Sam for making me feel like a kid again.

And thanks to the Israeli soldiers who joined our group. The trip wouldn't have been the same without Guy, Sve, Chen, Gitit and the others who taught me so much about Israel, past and present.

I also have to shout-out Christine for her unfading energy and adventurous spirit, and Shy for being an awesome, down-to-earth kid.

And, last but not least, David for keeping things interesting by constantly breaking my balls.

I will never forget any of you; I hope you'll keep in touch.

The much awaited photos from Israel!

2009-04-01T10:03:00.000-07:00

http://www.flickr.com/photos/35813724@N07/sets/

I promise to post some things I wrote during my trip soon!

Some kind of way

2009-02-25T10:21:00.000-08:00

I consider myself an adventurous and open-minded person. My travels have taken me from Bolivia to Honduras and from Spain to Wales. I lived in Costa Rica for six months and spent a month-and-a-half volunteering at a nonprofit in Guatemala.

While there were times during these experiences that I thought "what the fuck am I thinking" (like when I found myself with no money, sleeping on a fruit barge floating through Lake Nicaragua, or when I was forced to find my way through a random, dusty town in Peru after protesters blocked the streets and threw rocks at my bus). But, I never had any real worries about my decisions.

This time it's different. I am leaving on Monday for a four-week trip to Israel and Jordan. I realized just how different this experience is going to be when I looked at photos from the Ammarin Bedouin Camp near Petra, Jordan that I plan to spend four nights at. Something about seeing the men, dressed in full Muslim-style, desert regalia, sitting on colorful mats under a tent in the middle of the desert made me feel some kind of way--maybe a pang of fear?

Whatever I felt made me come face-to-face with the fact that despite my open mind and free spirit, I am not above fearing people who are different than me and places that are unfamiliar.

When I traveled around Latin America, I had just spent six months living in Costa Rica, where I had been once before. I spoke fluent Spanish and had Hispanic friends.

I now realize how little I know about Muslim people. I have a friend in Philly who studies the Qur'an, and I have a couple of Muslim co-workers, but other than that I have no experience with people of this faith. I am not afraid of Muslims like so many people in the U.S. seem to be. What I am afraid of is my own ignorance. The fact that I felt any kind of hesitation about my upcoming trip made me feel horrible. My biggest fear is to become a brain-washed, over-consuming, intolerant "typical American."

It takes active work to keep an open mind and a free spirit. I vow that my exploration and desire to understand more about Islamic culture will not end when I return home at the end of March.

Another recipe

2009-02-18T08:57:00.000-08:00

Here's a list of ingredients for my favorite salad:

Chicken & Blue Cheese Salad

Romaine lettuce
Grilled Chicken (I season mine with salt, pepper, garlic powder and fresh rosemary before cooking--you can also use fried chicken of you'd prefer)
Raisins or dried apricots
Red onions
Cucumbers
Crumbled walnuts
Any basic vinaigrette with crumbled blue cheese (or do what I do and use Anne Marie's Blue Cheese Vinaigrette, which is usually found in the produce section of the grocery store)

Some of my favorite recipes

2009-02-16T09:07:00.000-08:00

I promised Rinny, author of Wine Please!, some of my favorite recipes. Instead of e-mailing these gems to her, I have decided to spread the love. (Maybe Lora at Jake's Kitchen will publish my recipes as guest posts :) Below are some of my favorite, go-to recipes.

Beets with goat cheese and fresh chopped mint
Mara’s Shrimp Alfredo
Gallo Pinto (Costa Rican rice and beans)
Tuna and Rice
Beef and Rutabaga Stew

Beets with goat cheese and fresh chopped mint
Wash beets thoroughly and cut them into half-inch disks.

Place beets in a baking dish and drizzle with small amount of olive oil.

Roast beets, covered, for about 30 minutes, until fork-tender.

Put beets on a plate, sprinkle with a little salt and pepper, and spread goat cheese on each (I like using a strong-flavored goat cheese for this recipe)

Sprinkle with fresh chopped mint, to taste.

Mara’s Shrimp Alfredo
Shrimp, peeled and de-veined
Olive oil
Garlic, three cloves crushed
Red onion, chopped (about half a small-sized onion)
Orange (or lemon)
Dry white wine (or Sherry)
Heavy cream
Parmesan cheese, fresh grated
Fresh basil
Salt & Pepper

Put a few tablespoons of olive oil in a frying pan over medium-high heat.

Once the pan is nice and hot, add garlic, onions and shrimp.

Cook, constantly stirring until onion and garlic browns slightly.

Throw in a splash of white wine to deglaze pan.

Cook until shrimp are almost cooked, and deglaze the pan again with a squeeze of juice from the orange.

Let get hot again and add cream to pan.

Stir in cheese until sauce is thick, but not gooey.

Top with fresh basil and salt and pepper to taste.

Gallo Pinto
This is the staple food in Costa Rica. It’s name means “Speckled Chicken,” though the recipe doesn’t necessarily include chicken or any other meat. I often make mine meatless and eat it with a fried egg on top for breakfast, as well as use as a side dish for either lunch or dinner. The Salsa Lizano is what gives this dish its authentic sabor tico, but you can substitute for any vegetable-based mild sauce.

Red Onions, finely chopped, about 3-4 tablespoons
Celery, finely chopped, 2 stalks
Green and/or red bell pepper, about 3 tablespoons
Garlic, finely chopped, 1 or 2 cloves
Black beans, small can
2.5 cups cooked white rice
Olive oil
Cilantro
Lizano (or another vegetable salsa)
Scrambled eggs or chopped-up, left over chicken or steak

1. Put a few tablespoons of olive oil in a frying pan (cast iron works well for this), and put over medium-high heat.

2. When hot, add first four ingredients—sauté a few minutes, until soft.

3. Add white rice, cook about 4-5 minutes, stirring every 30 seconds or so.

4. Add can of beans and reduce heat to low.

5. Pour in Lizano or other vegetable salsa to taste.

6. Add handfuls of fresh cilantro leaves and salt and pepper.

7. Stir in meat, if desired.

Tuna and Rice
Also a rice dish I learned to make in Costa Rica, tuna and rice is quick, cheap and tasty. It’s best to use can tuna from the Hispanic section of your grocery store; try one or a combination of Goya or Sirenita’s atún con maíz (tuna with corn), atún con vegetales (tuna with vegetables) and atún con jalapeños (tuna with jalapeños).

Follow steps 1 and 2 from the “Gallo Pinto” recipe, then dump two cans of tuna (no need to drain if using recommended types) and heat a couple of minutes.

Reduce heat and follow steps 5 and 6 from the “Gallo Pinto” recipe.

Beef and Rutabaga Stew (made in the crock pot)
2 lbs beef chuck, cubed
2 rutabagas, peeled and cubed
4 parsnips, peeled and cut into one-inch disks
1 small yellow onion, chopped

Create a rub for meat by combining salt, pepper, mustard powder, thyme and sage (I prefer to use fresh herbs)

Sprinkle mixture on cubed meat and brown in a very hot pan-just a minute on each side.

Toss meat in crock-pot with parsnips and rutabagas.

In the pan the meat was browned in, add a splash of oil and sauté onions until brown (about 5 min.)

Add sautéed onions, to crock-pot and toss in a bay leaf or two.

Cover mixture with beef stock or water.

Cook on low for 8 - 10 hours.

The Big VD

2009-02-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

On Valentine's Day people everywhere celebrate with dinner, drinks, cards, gifts and, most importantly, SEX. Despite the romanticized images of sex that we are bombarded with daily, sex is not pretty. Between the leg cramps, dripping sweat, tangled legs and and accidental head banging, it can be messy and just plain awkward. And this is just human sex, in the animal kingdom "sex" takes many forms, from mystifying to downright freaky.

Take praying mantis for example. During sex the female bites the male's head off, causing a pulsation to course through his body, which apparently leads to a wild, thrashing good time for the lady mantis. To bad for him.

Leopard slugs have the most slimy, disgusting sex I've ever seen--it's beautiful really. They slither onto a branch and entwine together for an hour in a gooey mess, then dive off and hang on a thread of their own slime. In mid-air, both release their male organs from their heads and wrap them around each other and inject each other with sperm. When they're finished, they fall to the ground and go their separate ways.

The barnacle has the largest penis-to-body-size ratio in the animal kingdom. Apparently, sessile creatures, such as barnacles, must have long, "wandering" organs to reach their shelled-lady friends' private goods.

Green spoon worms have sexual dimorphism, meaning the female is larger than the male. In fact in this species, the female is large enough in comparison to the male that she actually inhales him to reproduce. Once inhaled, the male goes to her special chamber called the androecium, or "small man room," where he spends the rest of his life fertilizing passing eggs.

Male flatworms engage in a dual, penis-fighting until one is stabbed and becomes the "bitch." Like prison.

If I had more time, I would totally draw inappropriate diagrams to illustrate this post. But I don't, so I'll end my biological sex lesson here.

Happy VD!

Reason to celebrate

2009-02-08T05:34:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is Jack's 30th birthday, and we have a lot to celebrate. Just last week, Jack started his career as an elementary school teacher. He is teaching 3'rd grade math at a school in north east Baltimore. It's still a title-1 school, but its a much more pleasant place than the school where he did his residency. Since he's started at the new place, I haven't heard any stories of little girls with gashes on their faces from their mother's diamond ring or of 12 foster children living in the backseat of a car.

I am really proud of Jack for how far he's come. When we first started dating, Jack was working as a customer service rep at Discover Card and thinking about taking classes at a community college. Now, five (or six, who's counting) years later, he holds a degree in psychology and has what I would consider to be a very important job.

The Baltimore City Public School system needs more teachers like Jack. He sees hope in these kids that so many have written off. Yet he knows that he can't help them all. He is both optimistic and realistic. I know he will be great.

Selling Out

2009-02-08T04:42:00.000-08:00

All my life, I have preached about the importance of "being true" and "doing what you love." I always said, "money doesn't matter."

Now I find myself at a crossroads.

Last week I interviewed for a new position in my office, and there's a pretty good chance that I got it. (Assuming my fear that talking it up before it's official will make it not happen isn't true.) The new position--Web Content Manager--would fetch a larger salary than my measly writer-editor status. But more money comes with more responsibility and greater demands. I would definitely have to put off graduate school for at least another year, as my nice Monday - Friday, 8 - 4:30 schedule will turn into sporadic, long hours.

The new position also begs the question: Where is my career going? Just last month, I was certain that the path to take involved getting a master's degree in environmental science and becoming a science writer or doing PR for a research institute. Now, I find myself wondering if I should embrace the move into the technology sector, get certified in various computer programming languages and make lots and lots of money. Selling out.

Money isn't everything, but it's certainly nice to have. Grad school will set me back about $100,000 and a degree in environmental science will do little to bolster my pay. While the idea of working on a tranquil nature reserve or for an international conservation group makes me drool, economically it doesn't make sense. I can spend $100,000 on a graduate degree and probably never earn more than $65,000 a year, or I can spend a few thousand dollars on computer certs and be making something close to that immediately.

For every choice, something is gained and something is forgone. Am I willing to give up my dreams and sell my soul to the almighty dollar? I might be. And that is scary.

So much to write; so little time.

2009-02-06T11:48:00.000-08:00

Life is moving so quickly I can barely hold on.

I have so much to write about, so many feelings to sort out. I just haven't been able to find the time.

This weekend, I plan to finally put on paper the words that run through my mind and the thoughts that keep me up at night. If you're reading this weekend, expect an emotional roller-coaster ride.

Woordle

2009-02-03T06:03:00.000-08:00

Click on the image above to view it at a larger size, then make your own!

The inevitable "big question"

2009-01-25T04:37:00.000-08:00

There is no more delaying the inevitable. Jack is going to "pop the question," most likely before the end of the year.

We've been dating for five or six years (who's counting), and living together for almost three. Somewhere around our two-year mark, Jack told me that he intended to marry me.

My first reaction: "If you get down on one knee, I'll kick you in the teeth!" Poor Jack. Luckily for me he's a patient and understanding man. He knows that my father's multiple failed marriages that crumbled before my eyes and his horrible parenting skills (putting it mildly, the man should have been put in jail for the things he did when I was younger), have jaded me against marriage and men in general.

The next time Jack mentioned marriage, I got all logical and said: "You should finish your degree and find a career before we talk about this. I want you to have options. Besides, my parents wouldn't approve of me marrying a man without a "real" job." Sounds good, right? Bought me few more years.

Well, Jack has finished his degree in psychology and earlier this month he began training to be an elementary school teacher in the Baltimore City Public School System. Degree? Check. Job? By next month. Now he's asking what type of ring I want...

Don't get me wrong. I have no qualms about being with Jack forever. We get each other in a way that must be rare. We can joke, have fun and work hard together. He's my favorite dance partner. We see eye-to-eye on so many things. We have great sexual chemistry. Things are good, so why go screwing that up by throwing marriage into the mix?

So many people tell me "everything changes when you get married."

Jack and I have had numerous conversations about--and agreed on--things that will likely never change, whether we get married or not. I don't want to combine finances. I don't plan to have children. I would like to pursue a PhD eventually (after I complete the master's program I am applying for this week). My career goals involve moving to Latin America and working in the nonprofit world, in the ecotourism industry or at an environmental research or conservation center. I've already started teaching Jack some Spanish.

I DON'T expect that Jack will suddenly expect me to be barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen allowing my dreams to fade away just because we get married.

Of course I realize that people grow and people change, so maybe I am naive in thinking that we can grow together, not apart, and the promises Jack and I have made will hold strong. I don't think he'd want that.

Maybe I am naive. But, is that really so bad?

If I am going to "take the plunge," I'd like to say my "I do" with a head full of positive thoughts and a heart full of love.

Best Friends Forever

2009-01-21T15:24:00.000-08:00

Nothing lasts forever. What a sad thought.

The strength of the bond between best-friends comes from the understanding that your friendship will endure, tough times, to the end.

But nothing lasts forever. Friends come and go...even friends I thought were forever-friends.

They were forever. Forever in the moment.

Firsts

2009-01-15T09:01:00.000-08:00

The first openly gay Episcopalian bishop, Gene Robinson, will lead the country in the first-ever nondenominational prayer to be given at the inauguration of the first black president of the United States.

In an interview on National Public Radio, Robinson said that his prayer will be to the "god of all creation," a term he picked from his days in Alcoholics Anonymous.

By selecting Robinson to lead the country in this prayer, the Obama administration is showing the world that it is possible for gays, lesbians, heteros, bisexuals, Muslims, Jews, Christians, Catholics, Baptists, Protestants, blacks, whites, etc. to peacefully coexist.

At a time when Jews across the world are being murdered while praying in synagogues; unarmed black men are being shot execution style by cops in Los Angeles; and employers are allowed to fire someone because of his/her sexuality, this demonstration of good will and acceptance offers a glimmer of hope.

Hip to the jive

2009-01-14T16:18:00.001-08:00

So, Baltimore City is trying to make it illegal to sell cigars priced $2.50 and below. According to a report on NPR, "At these low prices and with fruity flavors these cigars are targeted to kids."

Kids? Try pot smokers. And, they're blunts. Not cigars.

Nobody--including kids--smokes these things, unless they've emptied out the tobacco to make room for a little sumin', sumin'.

Common knowledge, right?

Baltimore City lawmakers are either living in the clouds or they're afraid to admit knowing the truth.

Goals for the New Year

2009-01-04T04:56:00.000-08:00

I don't usually make New Year's resolutions...I am way too logical for whimsical wishes of happiness, world peace and an end to hunger. Not that these aren't valuable goals. It's just, I'm a realist [read: pessimist] and these things are simply not attainable in a one-year span.

As a realist, I've decided not to resolve to do anything in 2009, but instead to set some goals for the New Year. Goals are the realist's resolution. Unlike resolutions--steadfast decisions--goals may or may not be met and are fluid enough to allow for change.

With the semantics discussion out of the way, I present my goals for 2009:

Apply to graduate school. I am 98% certain that I want to get a MS in environmental sciences, the other 2% of me says "anthropologist" or "linguist."
Get outdoors once a week, and write about it. My sedentary job and busy, urban lifestyle have been cutting into my nature-loving-tree-hugging-hippy side. I want to get out more often and then write about it.
Use my Spanish more often. Foreign-language skills fade fast without practice.
Cut myself some slack. Jewish guilt is no joke. My mother raised me to never be satisfied with my best and to always strive for something better. While guilt is a great motivator, it can wear you down and make it impossible to celebrate accomplishments. One day, maybe even this year, I will be able to look myself in the mirror and say: "You are a good, successful person." And mean it.
Express affection. I want to hold Jack's hand in public more often, kiss him for no reason at all, stay in bed on a Sunday just to cuddle, and wrap my arms around him each day, as though I hadn't seen him in a year.
Forgive, but not forget. I'd like to forgive those who have tried to drag me down and those who have left me with emotional scars. Most of all, I'd like to forgive myself for allowing these people to influence my decisions and weigh heavy on my heart and soul.My past, as sordid as it may be, makes me who I am today, so I can never forget it. But, forgiveness would be good.
Get back in touch with my creative side. I want to paint, design, write, draw, work with metal, piece together collages, take up sewing....my creative side has fallen victim to my 9-5. It's time to reclaim it!