Friendster BEWARE!!!!

ALL POINTS BULLETIN!!!

Dear Fellow Snoops,

I feel that I must warn all Friendster users that those on Friendster can now see WHO is looking at them!!! Very traumatic. [Apparently, I am HOT stuff in Indonesia.]

Yes, you can re-adjust your settings to "explore" anonymously, BUT those tricksters at Friendster like to add new features on a semi-regular basis and when new features are added our settings seem to go back to the default settings which makes us all vulnerable.

And yes, of course you can create fake accounts and stalk people that way. Just be sure to use a name that cannot be traced to you. Example: I should NOT use "blackturtlenecklover" or "ilovecheese"

Please remember, the internet can be your friend; it can introduce you to people and ideas and spectacular sales at Banana Republic, BUT it can also be used embarrass you.

Be safe out there...

Apocolypse

Four years ago Americans of my generation experienced an apocolypse. We were glued to our televisions watching planes hit the twin towers over and over, followed by endless news analysis, speculation, and from our government, promise of retribution. I would awake to NPR with newscasters telling me my life would never be the same. Collective shock became collective anger and defiance. We exuded a loud silence by displaying American flags on cars, windows, shirts, pins...
And now, four years later, in the aftermath of a natural disaster, Americans are witnessing another apocolypse. At first I was surprised that so many more lives of those I know and care about were directly affected than after 9/11. But then I realized the hit was much larger-- thousands to millions of people, miles, acres.
The difference as I feel it is there is no silence. The loud winds and rains of the hurricane ripped through, and millions of voices followed: offers of money, food, shelter...schools for displaced, jobs for the newly unemployed. This time the voice of retribution is not from the government to the initiator, but from the people to the government. And over it all is the beautiful music of the Gulf states. I've been listening to WERS and WUMB. Louis Armstrong, Nina Simone, Charlie Haden, The Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Donald Byrd, Wynton Marsalis all sing out reminding us of New Orleans and the South. They sing of hope among the hopeless. At the end of they day they pour a drink and know there will be a tomorrow.

Vacation Report: Summer '05

Having recently returned from a long vacation of mini vacations, and a short weekend trip, I think it's time to post on what this blog is really about. That is, shopping-- the how, to and why.
Close readers of Zandrea! might have noticed Zara's distress over the current upgrade (and thus lack of access) of the gap.com website. It is frustrating when you cannot regularly check for sales and availability of certain items but, there are alternatives.
First, think of gap.com as the "Jan" in the Brady Bunch and upgrade to the Marcia-- bananarepublic.com. If that's too out of your league, try oldnavy.com (baby Cindy of course).

When on vacation in a new city, it's great to explore unique and different attractions, but faced with a crisis, it's good to turn to the familiar. In San Francisco, the crisis was the cold (under 70 degrees-- needed a sweater). The familiar was Macy's. My mom, sister and I found the landmark and jumped in, much like delving into your best friend's closet. Unfortunately, the onset of the school year and end of summer left us with no sweater sales...so we headed to, [in my sister's voice] "Oh my God, a Loehmann's!" Unfortunately, the store was scheduled to close in half an hour. I knew this is when I most needed to put all my shopping training into practice. Within five minutes I had found the perfect sweater at the perfect price...but I saw my sister lagging behind. We had the following conversation:
"Liz, can't you find a jacket or sweater?"
"Oh, I love Loehmann's, but I can't focus with such a small amount of time! I can't see everything!"
"Liz, you don't have to-- just find what you need!"
"But what I need is a jacket, which costs money, which reminds me of my job, and I hate my job, and if I'm buying clothes, I should be buying BETTER clothes for a BETTER job! It's all so stressful!"
At this point, I realized I really couldn't help her, so I passed her off to my mom and went to look at the "better sportswear". As a sales associate announced we needed to make our final purchases, my sister took a deep breath and realized she would just have to return the next day, upon the 9 am opening.
Following the meltdown, we ate in Chinatown and felt rejuventated. Enough to look in a myriad of low cost souvenir stores. While most stores sold the same or similar trinkets, we felt like we should look in each one...and by 10:00 pm decided to also return the next day.
The next day we returned to Loehmann's (Liz purchased two job and vacation friendly blazers, stress free!) and then to Chinatown. *Readers note-- those with claustrophobia and efficiency issues are advised that the following description may cause anxiety!
As the night before, we perused the same stores for many hours...always hoping to find a different or cheaper treasure. The stores were packed with tchochkes including endless chirping bird and cricket toys. We paused for bubble tea and eggrolls, but then continued on...we were stuck in Chinatown and had to get out! The stores were endless! The discounts extravagant! As half our day (not including the evening before) passed, my mom, sister and I were finally able to escape the spell of Chinatown. We ate a well needed lunch at a faded glory of a restaurant and made our way to other San Francisco attractions...
My sister and I inherited from our mom a physical condition when unexpectedly encountering a discount store (Loehmann's, Marshall's, T.J. Maxx)-- sweaty palms, increased heart rate and the impulse to jump up and down squealing with anticipation. This overcame the three of us as we disembarked a bus our last day and found ourselves squarely in front of a Marshall's, caddy-corner from a Forever 21. My mom gave us half an hour to peruse Marshall's (again, closing time) and this time we were all ready. My sister turned in a great perfomance, purchasing shorts and two pairs of slacks and I got a $5 summer shirt and a lightweight fall sweater. Door in to door out was 45 minutes.
Yes, San Francisco is known for cable cars, sourdough bread and burnt out hippies, but we embraced what we knew, and were just as happy for it.

An Interview with Nora: The Avocado Plant

A: Did you eat the avocado? If so, how?
N: I ate the avacado in a burrito!

A: When did you plant the avocado seed?
N: I planted the seed 3 months ago.

A: I know you told me last night, but how long before the tree matures? And will it bear avocados?
N: And the tree matures in about 15 years to bear fruit but it takes 5 more before it produces fruit you can eat!

A: What is your favorite recipe using avocados?
N: I love anything related to avacados especially making guacamole.

A: Are you a hippie?
N:I am not a hippie... maybe?

A: Do you recommend starting it with toothpicks in a dixie cup of water, or planting it in soil and a pot?
N: Definitely put it in soil, I tried 2 times in water with toothpickswith limited success. One failed, one started then failed. This is the best yet... [current picture is from September 1].

A: What are some health benefits of the avocodo?
N: Avacados have good fat and also good vitamins for you. Use them in salad instead of dressing or cheese.

A:Have you ever grown anything else in your office? Maybe a potato?
N: We also had poinsetta plants that were only supposed to survive during Christmas but that we grew for a whole year. Then it became unruly and we decided that we would just get new ones next Christmas anyway. We have some other plants here, too. But nothing as exciting as the avacado tree!

Pen-Pal...Music Pal?

Refreshed from a beatiful vacation in Northern California, I return older, wiser and ready to delve into new possibilities. This has nothing to do with drinking too much wine in Napa, or inhaling "funny fog" in San Fransico. In fact, it has everything to do with NPR...
But first. I invite you to recall your first pen-pal. Perhaps it was a class project-- everyone in your home-room was matched with a 2nd grader in a classroom in Ohio. You took some time to compose a thoughtful and penmanship perfect letter on lined paper to Molly in Mississippi, or Oliver in Ohio. Maybe it was even Francoise in France. Oh la la! You'd send the letter and then...wait...and finally, a response! Rupa from Roanoke wrote about her pet guinea pig and a field trip to a local museum. So like your own life, and yet so different.
Listening to NPR Saturday, there was a story, paraphrased, "There are thousands of ways to express who you are and mixing a CD of your favorite music is the latest thing. Around the country, CD clubs are exchanging mixes, discovering new music and getting to know each other in a unique way. Every month, twelve members of the Bobcats await the latest delivery. Producer Gideon D'Arcangelo explores the world the CD clubs with members from New York City."
Not only do you get to receive a treasure in the mail, you get to discover new music, and while I hesitate to suggest making new friends, it is possible!

So reader, please post a response if you are seriously interested in joining such a club-- I found one willing participant on line already, and Evil Twin #1 might join...you would be responsible for making a mix cd and sending out 11 copies one month-- the other 11 months you would receive a different mix.

Roots: Part 2, Or, How To Grow An Avocado Tree

Hot on the heels of my post on my roots, is a new feature-- Nora's Avocado Tree. She has been growing it for 2 months. The first picture is from Monday....see the difference between then and NOW, Friday! Oh, wait, the pictures are reversed. Stay tuned for more updates...

Roots

In the past 9 years I've lived in Boston, I've settled in, but always kept a few things (banks, licenses) local to Wichita or Seattle-- my other "homes". Living in Boston can be a transitory experience; people move frequently because of roommate changes, rent increases, pest problems. And being young and with limited responsibility, it's nice to have the option to get up and leave at any time. My friend Rashmi notes that she always leaves one box packed, symbolizing a chance at impermanence.
This past year I decided to fully embrace Boston. I had the address on my checks changed (so what if I move-- I'll change it again) and yesterday I went to the DMV to finally get a Massachusetts driver's license (those who go out with me know I have no fewer than 3 ids-- two former driver's licenses and a passport). Alas, our best laid plans can hit a snag. I didn't have all the necessary paperwork (I did have two valid signatures, my checkbook, passport and old license, but nothing "official" with my current/new address). I was frustrated but knew there was nothing I could do. So it looks like I'll be off to the West Coast today...using my passport.

The Top 10 Things About Moving

10. The 24' standard transmission, if-you're-a-trucker-you'll-know-how-to-drive-this, van. Quick downgrade to 14' automatic transmission.
9. Not having ever gone to the Corrib Pub on Beacon, my closest bar (or the Holiday Inn bar, which is likely closer).
8. 6 half hour sessions on the stairmaster at the gym condensed into one 3 hour workout. In 92 degree heat.
7. Smog advisory!
6. Having one of the movers poop out halfway through the day.
5. G checking for a hotspot first thing after the movers leave.
4. What's more expensive than Trader Joe's? The Harvest Coop!
3. Water, water, more water...
2. Forgetting the coffee maker.
1. Eating dinner and having a beer at 9 pm on the front porch with G.

Reunion

I received an email a few weeks ago informing me of my upcoming 10 year high school reunion. Reunions strike fear in some, and barely containable anticipation in others. Although a few years ago I was excited and couldn't wait, now I feel a little ambivelant. I haven't returned to Wichita in 5-6 years, and feel I keep up with most people I want to. There was a link to our reunion website attached to the e-mail and I decided to check it out.
Success is truly in the eye of the beholder as many people have taken paths I would never have dreamed of (not attending/finishing college, married with children, conversion to evangelical Chritianity, living in small town America...). But those who have posted seem genuinely happy and excited to see people next summer.
Anyone who's seen "Romy and Michele's High School Reunion" will recall that the two friends decided they would go only if they reinvented themselves. The created for themselves new outfits, new jobs and fabulous resumes (including inventing post-its). I know the moral of the movie is to embrace what you actually have achieved, blah, blah, blah. But I am below that and want a fabulous past nine years and, in order to make this blog more INTERACTIVE, am soliciting suggestions (real, or imagined!) for my own bio.

Frame Blame

Zara's lack of anger has left a black hole and void which the rest of us must now recover. There are PLENTY of things to be angry about, so, in love as I too am, I will have to step up to the plate. I started today, not 20 minutes ago, when I went to The Art Store to return an inexpensive frame I bought last week. Details are below:
One week ago I purchased the frame, only to open it at home and see that the plexiglass was scratched (under 2 layers of plastic). Despite the receipt saying that returns would only be accepted for items in the original packaging, I thought for sure their customer service would step in with some sort of customer-is-always-right-here's-your-refund-with-a-smile. I took the opened frame in with the receipt this afternoon, and Jim refused to refund my $13. I explained to him that I was aware of the policy, but surely they would make an exception for this obviously inferior product. "No", Jim explained, because, "There's no way I can know that you didn't scratch it and we can only accept returns that we can resell." Could I speak to the manager? "No." Is there truly nothing I can do? "No." Not even an apology...I understand that in his peon part time job status, Jim's only following rules, but does that also entail offering no semblance of sympathy? Apparently. I started to walk out of the store, when Jim kindly asked, "Do you want to take the frame with you?" Seriously, it was scratched something awful-- completely unusable. And finally, "Well, do need parking validation?" My response to both these questions? "No."
Below is my e-mail fired off to customer service.

I purchased a frame at your Brookline Ave. store in Boston last week, and when I opened it at home, the surface of the plexiglass was scratched (under the double layer of plastic!). I understood from the receipt that the store couldn't accept returns for opened products, but I would have hoped that you would have a policy supporting the customer that trumps that policy. It's a $13 frame-- no great financial loss for me, or, certainly for your store. But now you have lost a multi-year customer-- worth a lot more than $13. I asked the man helping me if I could speak to the manager, and he said, "no". I was offered no alternative recourse (no refund, no store credit, and most importantly, NO APOLOGY!). Your policy, for honest consumers such as myself, is like nothing I have encountered at any other business, and is flawed.

**Editor's note: An e-mail exchange with the regional manager yielded an apology an explanation that the peon was likely following the policy for the frame makers, not the store, and a promise of a refund, if I bring the frame back to the store...which I would do, if I hadn't left it there in my fit of anger...The apology is good enough for me.

Where is Zara?

Dearest Zandrea readers,

You may have noticed that I have not added anything to this blog in many months. Andrea has diligently and most capably kept up the blog and has been exceptionally kind by not overthrowing the blog and declaring it her own. (Though, she is a pirate, and pirates do like to plunder and pillage, so it is probably just a matter of time before the inevitable coup d’etat….)

I will try to explain my absence. Please prepare yourself for an existential journey into my psyche.

Bottom-line, I have not written anything because I have had nothing creative to say. In the past, my creativity has been exclusively linked to my vast reserves of anger and resentment.

However, sometime in the fall of 2004, I fell in love.

The dank and musty hollows of my heart and mind are now full of “cheerful” thoughts and feelings. You know the usual: rainbows, waterfalls, unicorns, that horse with wings, cheeses (imported AND domestic), puppies, kittens, a revisionist account of my teenage years, etc.

I am happy. There, I said it!

I have tried to write.

A piece I started to write about my feud with several Brookline dry cleaning establishments stopped dead in its tracks when I had to admit that everyone makes mistakes. [Please note: the old Zara did NOT make allowances for human error.]

Another piece that was over before it started was to be about how annoying I find people who choose to procreate on this God forsaken planet. But then I thought maybe there will be peace on Earth and heck, shouldn’t that be shared with a new glorious generation??? [You are correct if you are remembering that the old Zara had no hope for humanity and was surprised we had not blown up the planet prior to the 21st century.]

So, back to the title of this blog piece…

Where is Zara?

Well, I am here. I am just trying to find my voice in the midst of all of this confounding romance. Trying to find humor and irony in between kisses and love songs.

Please be patient,
Zara

Maintenance

The time has come to do a little work around this site. At the request of a reader, I've decided to delve into the complicated world of blog programming and get some pictures up. The Evil Twins have made nice use of pictures for such favorites as vacations and museum outings-- I really felt like I was there too! In truth, it was laziness, pure laziness, that didn't get pictures up here before. I quick perusal of FAQs on Blogger and Flickr revealed precise directions for uploading pictures...without having to download any programs to my computer.
With that intro, please look to your left at the nice profile shot of mine and Zara's wrists-- a pair of handsome matching Swatches (did we synchronize our Swatches? Oh no, Parker Lewis, Zara would in fact arrive before me...).
More illustrated updates to follow...

First Annual Teen Drama Queen Movie Festival

The First Annual Teen Drama Queen Movie Festival just showed it's final official entry last night. Alas, there are no red carpet pictures to show, which is likely just as well since the temperature was 85+ with about 200% humidity. Only Mandy Moore's hair could possibly still look good in those conditions.
The entries this year were as follows:
Thursday-- "The Prince and Me" and "Chasing Liberty". Of the two, the informal consensus gave the prize to Chasing Liberty. Not because the story line was any more plausible, or the acting really any better...but because Matthew Goode is hot. And the subplot with Jeremy Piven and Annabella Sciorra was endearing. Movie attendees T, R and roommate L (and of course, myself) managed to gorge ourselves on a full dish of 7 layer dip...and wine, margaritas followed intermittently with chocolate covered pretzels and Exquisite cookies. Mmmmm!
Unifying theme through both movies: Men with foreign accents

Monday-- "A Cinderella Story" and "New York Minute". A Cinderella Story was a late entry (thanks to T) due to lack of Hilary Duff and also due to a Netflix mishap**. NYM was indeed as bad as the reviews made it out to be. The Twins escape (apartment critics) unscathed due to a power costume change montage. Evil Twin #1 and N joined T and R for the festivities this night. There was more wine and more margaritas, plus teen-tastebud-memory-flashback frozen pizza and microwave popcorn.
Unifying theme through both movies: ummm, predictability?

Tuesday-- "Saved!" and "Raise Your Voice". Let me take a quick moment to thank the movie festival participants-- especially those who trekked to Brookline from far away (yes, Cambridge is far) over many days in the heat and humidity. Especially also to T who provided the majority of the movies, and had thoughtfully provided back up movies in case the originally planned ones didn't arrive ("Crossroads" and "But I'm A Cheerleader"). This might have been deemed Satire Night, or at least, Movies-Which-We Might-Actually-See-In-A-Real-Festival,-Not-a-Ghetto-Apartment-Festival. T warnd us that RYV might make us cry 3-5 times and yup, it delivered. Saved! Made us laugh out loud and was close to home for some of us who had to endure years of Christian School and/or Youth Group. We reheated the pizza, ate more chips, more popcorn, more cookies, more wine (white Zin...how high school!) and french fries.
Unifying theme through both movies: Jesus

I was surprised that many people who came (I won't mention names) had already seen MOST if not ALL of the movies I chose! I was not surprised that the foods we ate in high school and which tasted so good again are best eaten only in high school and maybe in college...but after 25 one does not have the same metabolism as one who is 16.
**Netflix, with normally reliable turnaround, FAILED during the height of the festival, delivering movies a day later than needed. Either that or the mailman caught wind of the movies and decided to keep them to himself to watch first, before delivery.

Housekeeping

Sharing communal washers and driers involves patience and flexibility, but also acknowledgement of the tacit rules: do not remove other's clothes prematurely form either the washer or dryer; give others a fair chance to do so themselves.
When this system suffers a breakdown, a battle will ensue.

The scenario:
Wednesday morning (8 am):
Evil Twin #1 attempts to start laundry, but waits as all 4 washers are in use.

Wednesday evening (8:30 pm):
I go to put two loads of laundry in the washers, only to find they have laundry in them (the corresponding dryers are free). I decide to return in 15 minutes.

8:45 pm: I return to find Pathetic Redhead has moved the laundry out of one of the machines, and put hers in. I notice that she is sitting with baskets of laundry around her, and armed for a stakeout, with a Harry Potter book in hand. I ask her if the laundry in the other machine is hers ("no" she answers). I go to move it into a drier, and have a sneaky suspician that this laundry belongs to Evil Twin #1. I put it in the large drier, thinking that I'll dry it for her, along with my laundry, when it finishes in a half hour.

9:10 pm: Evil Twin #1 comes home, and declares that Pathetic Redhead (still camped out in the basement) has carelessly removed all Evil Twin's laundry to put her own in the large drier. I declare this unacceptable, as I had planned to dry my own laundry, as well as Evil Twin's, in the large drier. I fear the removal of my own laundry, so hoof it to the basement pronto.

9:15 pm: My wash is finishing up, and I notice that Pathetic Redhead has 12 minutes left on the drier. I decide it's time for a standoff. If she can remove laundry so cavalierly, and is willing to spend her evening in the basement, then I'm sure she'll have no problem removing her laundry from the drier to make room for mine. I wait.

9:27 pm: (I've taken my wet clothes out of the drier and put my second load in my just used washer.) Before all Pathetic Redhead's clothes have had a chance to settle, I ask, "You don't mind if I move your clothes out for mine, do you?" She's taken aback, but responds, "No...they're dry?" "Yes." I proceed to pull her clothes out of the drier as she walks toward me. I pass them to her then put mine in.

9:35 pm: I return to the apartment, where B tells me I should add enough quarters to the drier to assure that Pathetic Redhead won't be able to use it. Evil Twin tells me she will return with me, and we bring our drinks with the idea of scandalizing her out of the laundry room with disturbing conversation (or at least boring her).

9:45-10:30 pm: With some quick thinking and careful sleight of hand, Evil Twin #1 and I dominate the laundry room and win the battle...and return home with clean laundry. Pathetic Redhead couldn't stand the heat, and left humbled and several quarters less rich than when she arrived.

Bad Habits

With G away, I've noticed myself returning to my single-girl-lacking-responsibility self. Perhaps it's not bad habits so much as indulging guilty pleasures (akin to spending a week at Grandma's growing up in the summer). I've been staying up late reading and watching movies (G is an early to bed, early to riser, so we finish movies together only about half the time). I've forgone many a healthy dinner in favor of the easier and carb satisfying cheese and crackers dinner (in bed, no less). Yesterday I enjoyed Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee and not one, but two (!) donuts on my outside deck. I've been laying in bed in my pajamas until well past 11 on the weekend days.

Finally, I've been shopping...the always enjoyable pastime which is like a drug. I pride myself on my bargain shopping (the $20 rule has fallen by the wayside in recent times, but I've managed to resurrect it with the onslaught of Summer Sale! and free time). When Saturday looked like it wouldn't be a beach day after all, I improvised and went to Downtown Crossing. I was armed with a gift card to Filene's and hope to make short shrift of the $25 balance. Alas, I failed. The shirt I picked out for $35 rung up at just $19...it looks like another trip will need to be made to polish off that $5+. I forewent the Basement and H&M in favor of the less frequented TJ Maxx. A friend's recent purchase of several swimsuits for under $10 piqued my curiosity. There were slim pickings in the swimware department, but the skirts were cute and all under $20...and the four I tried on all fit. I closed my eyes and picked the one which would be mine. I also wasted no time in scouring the shoe rejects on the floor for a pair of cute wedge heels, size 7. Thoroughly warmed up with my keen eye on the lookout, I bought lunch (hot dog and Coke) and resumed my mission: birthday gifts for sister (unmentionable pending actual birthday next week). The five hour afternoon kept me entertained, provided an outfit for going out that night, and really, hardly made a dent in my checking account. In fact, it was perhaps not so much a guilty pleasure as a necessity!

Move Preparation: Installment 2

G and I found a charming apartment, moved most of his worldly belongings to the storage unit (the most precious electronics and comic books staying with me) and sent him on his month long trip to Israel. Save for the physical act of moving our stuff to the new apartment in mid-August, the big parts are taken care of. Packing, shmacking...any further proactive measures on my part would severely cut into what is shaping up to be : The July of Andrea.***

My friend J invited me to join her in a drop in hip hop dance class Saturday morning. We both enjoyed dancing (although often infused with alcohol) and thought, how hard could it be? We arrived at 9:30 am and to our surprise (read: chagrin) the Boston Herald was doing a piece on dance in the Boston area, and none of us would mind being photographed during the class, would we?
The warm up started fine-- we got moving and were able to stave off the headaches resultant from lack of morning caffeine. The instructor introduced some steps and we slowly went through, following her and feeling good...until she dropped to the floor,break dance style,then upped the tempo double time. No one else in the class seemed surprised by this. In fact, they barely regarded it as a challege. For the next 45 minutes, J and I attempted the moves and were duly humbled. My two plus years of yoga practice did not give me the upper arm strength needed to fall and jump up, over and over. My body ached in places I didn't even know existed the next day. Of course, we're planning on returning as soon as possible.

The July of Andrea includes activities that G would not enjoy. Activities that might make G throw up. Starting next week, I will screen not one, and not two, but three nights of teen movies (the bad ones-- lots of Mandy Moore, some Britney and many hijinks). Many of my girlfriends have expressed more than a passing interest in this, so it could actually become an annual, if not monthly, event.

Further Andrea events include Salsa dancing, sewing a skirt, learning some Hebrew and practicing my Spanish, conscientiously grocery shopping with reusable bags...and perhaps getting a Massachusetts Drivers License. I've already entertained three friends from out of town, and hope to entertain at least one more. I'll travel to DC to see my sister and I'll take the African Dance class at my gym before I move.

This is Molly's and Nancy's Fourth of July Parade Story

Another guest post, since the editors here are busy keeping busy. This tale is told alternately from my mom's (Nancy) and her dog's (Molly) perspective.

We wanted to have a great Fourth of July weekend. Molly was surrounded
by new people-she had gotten use to Grandma, but then here came Ginny
and Bob from Chicago and she was excluded from all fun outings and
didn't even get her customary walk on Friday or Saturday-because of the
cleaning frenzy that was taking place. When Ginny and Bob came to the
house, they just ate lunch then everyone left--and left her in her
"room." They did return home, but immediately stated fixing and eating
dinner-hardly any playtime.
Sunday was not much better from Molly's perspective--first left while
everyone goes sightseeing-but at least got left on the deck/den on a
beautiful day. Then, Marvin, Grandma and Nancy return home, but say
they need a rest (at least Nancy does, so no walk for me). Then more
dinner preparation for Julie and Susan coming over. Julie and Susan
played a little Frisbee (Molly got two new ones, both pink), but mostly
just talk and eating.
Monday, finally a dog day. First thing, up and out to the dog part-at
last some wonderful one on one with Nancy and lots of new friends and a
couple of trips to the river! It was heaven! Sometime after getting
home, though, Nancy thought she'd just take me to walk in the Bothell
Fourth of July parade with her to support the County Council candidate.
Well, we situated Grandma in a very low chair on the parade route and
then we walked up a hill (Molly getting pets along the way) to wait for
the little kids part to finish. We did get to go a short way down main
street, and I was doing ok, until those dressed up reenactors starting
shooting their muskets right behind us; I was really scared and just
wanted to leave. Nancy handed her sign back to Jeff because I was just
going way too fast; I was frantic; I wanted to get out of that parade
and away from those loud noises and I was hot!
I thought we'd never get back to the car! After we got Grandma into the
car, we were finally able to turn on the air-conditioning and go home.
Luckily, Nancy knew enough to let the hose run on me in the front yard.

And last night--even more firecrackers---way too much Fourth of July for
me!

Tales From the Fruit Cart: A Fruit Cart Announcement

Ever intrepid journalist Elizabeth Crawford takes a moment out of her daily reporting and source follow ups to update us on the MIA fruit cart.

It is [Employer's] turn to push the fruit cart again. My day is July 29. I thought you'd enjoy the announcement about it sent out by the president of [Employer]. See below.

It's time again for us to take the lead
And fulfill UCG's fruit and vegetable need.
I know you'd rather give out Twinkees and Hohos
But that won't regain your Fruit Cart Mojo.

A push, a shove and it's manna from heaven above.
(Well, not manna, but lots of green banana.)
Sing and dance and enjoy the grins,
But don't forget the napkins.

When: [Employer] does the Fruit Cart from July 22 through September. (Interns are signed up already.) There's one day for EVERYONE. Sign up now and improve the chances you'll get your preferred day.

Where: See the calendar sign-up sheet on the pillar near [fellow employee's] desks.

Why: The benefits of fiber are best not discussed publicly.

The readers of Zandrea! will wait with bated breath for the EC's July 29 turn and subsequent update, I'm sure!

A Cool Summer

Growing up in Wichita, Central Air was a necessity. The summers are long and terrible-- the heat is 80+ from April through October (I recall more than one Halloween wearing shorts and a t-shirt to school). It is not uncommon to go directly from the air conditioned house, to the air conditioned car, to air conditioned work. Public schools have half days the first week of school because the heat is so bad. Actual contact with Nature is driving the car to the neighborhood pool and spending the afternoon swimming (resultant in first day of school green hair each September, but that's another story). Henry Miller titled his 1945 critique of American culture, "The Air-Conditioned Nightmare."
"Nowhere else in the world," Miller wrote of the United States, "is the divorce between man and nature so complete."**
Before coming to college in Boston, my cousin told me not to bother packing t shirts-- it would never be warm enough in my 9 months academic year to wear them. She was correct, and I realized also the Central Air for people's homes was practically non-existent. Air conditioning units are the prefered means of keeping cool, when needed. In fact, many people get by with a window or stand alone fan.
The temperature hit near 100 this past weekend and I would have suffered through sans fan or AC, but for an inheritance from G-- his AC window unit to use while he travels for the next month. I generally prefer to keep my windows open, enjoy the cool night breeze and be awakened by the sounds of birds and garbage trucks-- idyllic morning sounds. But the past several nights I have guiltilly enjoyed the AC, being able to snuggle under the blankets and wake up refreshed-- not sweaty and sticky.
I'd like to believe that once G leaves on Friday, I'll revert back to my normally conservative persona and open the windows...but sometimes it's nice to be spoiled.


** Thanks to the New York Time's story Shivering for Luxury, printed Sunday June 26.

Souvenirs

Shopping in any foreign country holds such appeal that even (and especially!) the tchotchkes one gives and receives hold special personal value. When I was in high school, I started collecting the small "floaty" pens-- a cactus floating through a desert scene for a town in Texas, David or Venus floating up and down in Italy or a car floating under the Saint Louis Arch. The appeal of these pens is that they are cheap and portable, and have the benefit of reminding you where you (or your friend) was when purchased.
A former co-worker of mine traveled to India every couple of years, and before she would go, she would ask us to make a list, including spending limits, of things (jewelry, fabrics, etc) we would like her to bring back. For a total of $75, I received a custom made silver jewelry set and a hand embroidered wool shawl. My friend Rashmi has offered a similar service-- no doubt the shopping will be for her as fun as it is for us to receive!
Visitors to the U.S. often have lists of things that can be purchased here for cheaper than in their country, or perhaps not purchased at all. My friend Salma would come to Boston for usually a month at a time in the summer, and would stock up on Marshmallow Fluff, cranberry juice, Hamburger Helper and Gap clothes. Her shopping would be punctuated by frequent stops at Starbucks-- a surprisingly non-entity in her Mexican home. In return for accompanying her to the Hard Rock Cafe, she would bring me boxes of KinderEggs...a rare and expensive treat here.
I just helped G through a treasure hunt list for his aunt in Israel. The varied list included clothes, makeup and linens. An easy list save for the translation differences-- no fewer than 3 Bed, Bath and Beyond employees helped us convert the towels size from centimeters to inches.
I spoke to a friend last night who just got back from a year abroad. She buys a children's book (and asks her friends to do the same) from every country she visits, so her future children will have a world library.