Thursday, May 31, 2007


It feels like summer is already flying by at a whirlwind pace. We have friends coming to visit on a regular basis and small trips to be taken and plans to be made and concerts to attend, and man! it's all going to be so fun.

And then there's fall, with the birthdays and more small trips and a NEW birthday to happen and THEN our trip to Asia.

This year is slipping through my fingers faster than I can close them and try to hold on.

We bought our tickets yesterday for Asia. Our itinerary will be as follows: Hong Kong, Bangkok, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, Pangkor Laut, Penang, Phuket, Hong Kong.

Speaking of doing a lot in a little time! Though we will be gone for almost three weeks. I can't even REMEMBER the last time I had three weeks off with absolutley nothing to do. High school, maybe?

So I'm filled with excitement, about so much. Time is moving quickly but in the absolute best of ways . . . .
pictures are of our garden

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Defining the start of summer

Ninth Avenue International Food Festival and Street Fair

Train rides to the beach

Coney Island Mini-golf

Gelatto on the corner for a dollar in dixie cups

Baseball games at Shea

Picnics in the garden

Sandals to break in

BBQ, potato salad, roasted corn on the cob

Mr. Softy Vanilla Cones dipped in Cherry

Weekly trips to the farmers' market

New sassy hairdo

What signifies the beginning of your summer?

Friday, May 25, 2007

Ninth Ave. International Food Fest

So last weekend was one of greatness. I smiled so hard, so often my cheeks were sore striaght into Monday.

And the best part? We spent all of it surrounded with amazingly good friends. Most notably, John H. was in town and spent Saturday afternoon wandering the Ninth Avenue International Food Festival with Sam, Nathan and I. It was wonderful to get to catch up, share news of our lives and the mutual friends we've kept up with . . . and, well, eat amazing food as we traversed 37th thru 57th streets.

Good times.

John was determined to fully experience the fair, and I have to give him props - he did us proud. (Even stopping at a booth that sold, why yes - it says it - stuffed CABBAGE. That's not what he got, however, just to put your mind at ease . . .)

Nathan caught up with us and joined the adventure, and you can see in this pic how very happy I am about that.

A bag of zeppelies was purchased and devoured, though even in their utter deliciousness, we couldn't bring ourselves to eat the whole bag . . .

Sam and Nathan lovingly shared some chocolate covered strawberries . . .

And the NAIFF delivered once again. Delicious food and some great, great company. Despite the sprinkles of rain, we had ourselves one awesome afternoon.

And, John? Come on 'a our house anytime. It was FABULOUS having you . . . .

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Song Tuesdays

You turn a blue eye to me and you look right through me
You said define what you think freedom means... if you want freedom
We can wake up this lullaby town
Burn through every red light I found
Lift a dust cloud
Break the speed of sound...
you could break free

It's amazing, is it not? How a song, no matter how long it's been since you have heard it - can immediately take you to a moment in time so clear and real it's as if it's happening all over again? As if it's no longer three, or five or ten years since the past. It's like a fresh breeze hitting me at the corner of ninth and forty-ninth, transporting me in milliseconds and miles to a Kansas plain.

It can bring tears to my ears and a smile to face like nothing else.

I remember the first time I heard Ellis Paul's song "Take All the Sky You Need."

I sat on a green slope of a hill, skirt billowing around me, head on Sam's shoulder watching boats slip by on the Hudson. It was within the first month of him moving to New York and we had traveled to the Clearwater Music Festival up-river, while most of our mutual friends had traveled west to the Smokey Hill. It was the first of many trips we would take separate, just the two of us, when it seemed everyone else was going elsewhere.

It was beautiful that day. There was one cloud on the sky. One clear, defined cloud, as if drawn by the spirits in mocking reminisce of a comic book. It floated directly above a tree in front of us, and there was a stage to our left - filled with a regular rotation of musicians. All of whom I would whisper as they began "He/She's my favorite."

But then Ellis Paul started to play. And I had never heard him before, but I immediately loved him. And what’s' more, when he came to the song "Take All the Sky You Need" - I immediately had to own it.

If you want to run I'll pack my suitcase
If you want to stay I'll make a front door key
And if you need space... to fly... free
Take all the sky you need

I never took falling in love or marriage very seriously. That summer was crazy for me, Sam and I creating a home together. I had never planned on sharing my home, really. Never thought it would work. I was fiercely independent, tied to my ways. I had plans, I had hopes. Sharing involved the dreaded "compromise." I could not. Would not.

Then, suddenly, I was looking up at deer antlers hanging on my bedroom wall.

And I knew, *I KNEW* that this all wasn't easy for Sam either. Sam the traveler, the gypsy. Who had equally set up his life, his ways.

Our lives had collided in a small 350 sq foot apartment just weeks before. In a surprisingly smooth manner. Oh, I had my breakdown. My sitting in the closet amongst boxes in tears over there NOT BEING ENOUGH ROOM FOR US BOTH. Calling Jan, frightened I had made a horrible horrible mistake.

That thought lasted about five minutes. An hour later we were already planning trips. Trips down to Florida, across the oceans, up the Hudson.

I stand on the rooftops; I look down on my story
And it swallows me
Beyond the horizon, the taillights, the glories,
Will you follow me?
(Freedom) I need to know who I am
(Freedom) I'm like a moth in your hand
(Sweet freedom) do I fly or stand?
Or fall on my knees?

And when I heard that song, sitting at the edge of the Hudson that day, I knew what my life would be like from that moment on. How I felt about Sam and I being together. What it would take, and what I was willing to give. It was like listening to our story, watching it wrap around that tree and head up straight to that crazy looking cloud.

In the beautiful, beautiful, clear blue sky.

If you want to run I'll pack my suitcase
If you want to stay I'll make a front door key
And if you need space... to fly... free
Take all the sky you need

Monday, May 14, 2007

Anxious and Excited

I'm awaiting anxiously for news today from Sam about something. . . it feels like Christmas eve as a child when you can barely think about anything else and people actually expect you to SLEEP, only people shall expect me to WORK.


Will let you share in the excitement as soon as I can.


Updated: Sam and I leave for a Southeast Asian Tour in November!

Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand and China here! we! come!!!

This is the resort we shall stay in for a couple days. *le sigh*

Friday, May 11, 2007

Cinco, a week late

So Sam and I headed off to Chelsea on Saturday to meet Mikki and Bazi for dinner and drinks in celebration of pastry. (Some sort of pastry war is involved in Sam's story of why we celebrate Cinco - it sounds remarkably legit , though I could not properly retell . . . )

Mikki planned it all out for us, making reservations and all. And I must say, it was FABOO. The food was delicious, and it instantly made me want to do some research on how to make some good mexican food at home.

The drinks were nice too.

Mikki and Bazi were, as always, great company. "Great company" in our vernacular meaning inappropriate dinner conversation, multiple rounds of drinks and copious decadent dessert ordering.

When we finished our awesome dinner, we decided to walk uptown back to Hell's Kitchen, and I have to say the night could not have been more perfect.

I mean, yes, sure, the weather was nice. The sun sat beautifully behind Jersey . . . but what made the night so perfect was the awesome, ghetto-tastic STREET CARNIVAL we happened upon.

Not just a street FAIR, mind you. a CARNIVAL.

With death-trap rides, fixed games and men stirring batter with which to fry every known food with their BARE ARMS.

It was trashy trashy trashy and we got inordinately excited about it. We weren't one booth in before some toothless carney got Mikki throwing darts to win a prize.

Bazi carefully picked through all the darts in the box and coached Mikki on her throw, while the old toothless man did his own coaching. It was hilarious.

But totally worth it. Twenty bucks later Mikki one herself a real fine fuzzy yellow bear.

Alas, I fell prey five booths down. But! Being the kickass team Mikki and I are, together we managed to dart enough balloons (um, aka spend more money) to upgrade to a new! better! even more fabulous! trashy prize.

Are you jealous yet? Ha. I'd like to point out Mikki gave our faboo prize to a small very sticky boy as we exited the carnival. He was crazy excited, so perhaps it wasn't quite as trashy as we thought.

Or, um, this kid's standards weren't too high.

Either way. We: too much money spent at carnival. Him: No money spent, fabulous prize.

It all worked out.

*Updated to be fair and honest about our nightly activities because my husband wants you to know how it all ended*

We did eventually make it back to th Bell Stiers nighborhood bar, The Gaf.

Where again, we tested our darts expertise. Bazi and Sam were a team, Mikki and I (in preperation for the eventual unleashing of the Free Radicals (TM) were the other.

Sadly, Mikki and I fared no better at the bar. We lost. Twice.

But it was still a super fun night. And, regardless of our problems with consistency - Mikki and I both had true moments of brilliance. We'll get 'em next time.

*end of update*

Thursday, May 03, 2007


"You should be more judicious about what you choose to shed tears over."

He said it condescendingly. Patronizing. Mockingly.

He didn't understand that injustice against another human being, no matter how slight, was something I took issue with. Of course, he had to make it small, because he was small. A small selfish man with expensive suits and fancy shoes; with catered morning breakfasts and hired cars to take him home at night. The comment infuriated me. It was meant to sound, I think, like a peace offering of some sort. A careful reminder we were on the same team somehow. But it was exceedingly hollow. It only showed how far apart we are.

A chasm I'm not willing to cross.

I fight the tears. They come most easily when I'm mad; and here, in this place, they tease the corners of my eyes often (but rarely escape). I see them as a weakness. As a girl-ey thing to do. I feel they seem a sign I am to be taken lightly, treated as a child. That I am incapable of controlling something as small as a tear. A microscopic collection of salt water.

But that evening it changed. Something in me changed. With that one comment he turned all the things I feared about shedding those tears upside down. I suddenly became proud I was "so easily brought to tears."

It meant I still cared. I still knew what was important. I still had retained, through all the madness and politics and game-playing, myself. My core values.

I had not been caught up: I had been let down.

And as much as that hurt, it felt good, too. I'm not afraid to hold this sword in my hand. And I'm less afraid to raise it. And will - time after time, moment after moment. Even if lifting it brings tears to my eyes. They embarrass me not at all now.