Today's the last day of farm share pick-up, so I unless I actually do meet the love of my life at the intersection of winter squash and kale, the cautionary tale I'm about to write is almost certainly putting the carriage before the horse.
My director oversees a large program of medical residents, is on various national committees and is the mother of two grade school aged boys and a six month old puppy. She gets her fair share of female-in-power backlash and worries aloud that her work and travel schedule keeps her from spending adequate time with her boys. Before leaving for a weekend business trip to Chicago on Friday, she announced that she had sent her husband a detailed email explaining various soccer schedules and meal plans and reminders that the dog needed walking and homework needed to be done.
Monday afternoon she emerged from her office looking tired and announced she needed to leave a bit early in order to catch her son's second soccer match. She also said that upon returning the family life was in disarray: gym bags dumped on foyer floor and clothes not washed, dishes in the sink, lunch bags not emptied since after school Friday and homework not done, in part because one son stayed at her sister's house all weekend. "You know, there's a certain amount of momentum that needs to be in effect to run a household. It's going to be hard to get things going again." She described this, I know, looking for empathy, or at least sympathy and commiseration.
But what does this have to do with me?
As someone concerned about how I'll raise a future family, I already know that my math skills end with fractions (and even that's shaky). So a future husband would either have to be good enough with math to help with homework, or else we'll just have to get a tutor. But on all other grounds, I pretty much thought I had it covered. I can cook, I can keep a (decent) schedule, and I'm fun.
However, my Monday morning: gym bag dumped on foyer floor and clothes not washed, dishes in the sink, lunch bag not emptied since after work Friday, thumbs sore from video games. Apparently I have the same (lack of) momentum as 8 and 10 year old boys.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
In Need of an "Emma"
Jane Austen and all those Brontes seemed to believe that true love could be found by nary leaving your house...a house that was usually large and in a very rural location where few men would venture. But the men that did venture, they won the girls.
Here's a modern plan for me to meet a man without leaving my home:
1. From my 3rd floor front porch, lure passers-by a la girls in Amsterdam. Never mind that the typical passers-by are women and men with strollers and dogs and, most often, middle-aged lesbian couples.
2. Instead of making faces and grumpily leaping over the crevasses in my street made by construction men at 7 am, step outside and "accidentally" twist my ankle (the old damsel in distress ruse). The cigarette smoking townies will run to my aid.
Even Jane Eyre went to the market in town sometimes.
3. While picking up my farm share at the Coop, bump into a handsome, single, mid-30s aged man. My lettuce spills with his tomatoes and we decide to make a salad! We're married within the year.
Here's a modern plan for me to meet a man without leaving my home:
1. From my 3rd floor front porch, lure passers-by a la girls in Amsterdam. Never mind that the typical passers-by are women and men with strollers and dogs and, most often, middle-aged lesbian couples.
2. Instead of making faces and grumpily leaping over the crevasses in my street made by construction men at 7 am, step outside and "accidentally" twist my ankle (the old damsel in distress ruse). The cigarette smoking townies will run to my aid.
Even Jane Eyre went to the market in town sometimes.
3. While picking up my farm share at the Coop, bump into a handsome, single, mid-30s aged man. My lettuce spills with his tomatoes and we decide to make a salad! We're married within the year.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
A Modern Day Science Project
Intro and purpose
In a recent attempt to "go green", I bought a kitchen composting bucket, which promted my mom's comment,"oh, just like your 7th grad science project!" Indeed, my 7th grade science project involved several buckets of kitchen scraps, dirt and (in the non-control group), worms. My hypothesis was probably something like worms would help degrade the matter faster. My results were probably inconclusive since I likely started the project approximately one week before it was due. Twenty years later, I wondered if perhaps we all did science projects that ulitmately shaped who we became in our careers and lives.
Hypothesis
I distinctly remember 7th grade science being when I decided the environment was important and that I wanted to become a marine biologist. Today I am not a marine biologist; I recruit medical students into medicine and then work with the government to get them medical licenses. But I try my best to be an urban hippie-- I recycle, walk and take public transportation, make my own yogurt and bread and in general try to reduce my carbon footprint. I hypothesized that my friends' middle school science projects would likewise have a positive effect on their current lives.
Materials and Methods
Conducting research in 2009 is so much easier than in 1991! I need not leave my chair to simply email my friends. Email I did: "what was your 7th grade science project-- was it something that still influences you today?" The responses were slow in coming in...apparently people did not remember or else chose to forget.
ET#1 is now a scientist and provided this eloquent response:
"I did however have the following projects that i do remember:in the 4th grade I wrote and illustrated a biography of Daniel Boone. in the 5th grade I made a topographical map of California using salt dough. in the 7th grade I wrote a book of short stories in the style of Jack Londonin the 9th grade I wrote a computer program of Logo that was imitated what a hypercube would look like in a 2d image. Also, I remember some elaborate proof which was a final project on how to estimate the surface of a sphere not using calculus, but algebra only. in the 12th grade in applied math we designed how to draw our classroom using fractals and tried to reduce everything into iterative functions."
My sister did her project, "What Will The Dogs Drink?", an experiment that involved chasing the family pets around the yard and then letting them choose what to drink, red or clear water, salty or sweet, when they were sufficiently thirsty. This project got her the prize in the state competition!
Nora and Jane, a water chemist and law student respectively, both had stories of science fair shame: the fear of public speaking and anxiety about coming up with a worthwhile project. Jane in particular had a harrowing memory:
"I don't remember my 7th grade one but in 5th grade I signed up for an optional one, then procrastinated until the day of, went out and got some rocks from my yard, put them on the table and poured water on them to see which one would absorb water fastest. It had no tagboard no nothing. Just rocks sitting on a piece of paper. I was so ashamed that I didn't tell my parents I was participating and begged my friend to let me stand next to her rock -candy demo whenever she went to the bathroom."
I thought my former neighbor who currently lives, studies and works in a lab in Germany might have had an interesting project, but she couldn't remember. She thought maybe it had something to do with dinosaurs.
Data and Results
In true Andrea form, I'm taking a shortcut here and not providing charts or data. Part of being an adult is being able to make such decisions. I can also eat cookies for dinner and no one will care.
The results were a bit surprising initially, but ultimately make sense. There is a nearly common thread of procrastination, even if few of us actually refer back to the actual projects, or as ET#1 put "Sadly, I don't use any of those things, but I remember I liked finishing them. So maybe that is the lesson I took away. I also remember procrastinating starting each one. So maybe that is the real lesson I took away." Liz, however, is not a procrastinator, which likely helped in getting her to the state competition.
Conclusion
I'd like to make a joke here about how composting is akin to the government forms and documents, but instead I'll just say that regardless of our anxiety, forgetfulness or procrastination tendencies, we are all successful women.
In a recent attempt to "go green", I bought a kitchen composting bucket, which promted my mom's comment,"oh, just like your 7th grad science project!" Indeed, my 7th grade science project involved several buckets of kitchen scraps, dirt and (in the non-control group), worms. My hypothesis was probably something like worms would help degrade the matter faster. My results were probably inconclusive since I likely started the project approximately one week before it was due. Twenty years later, I wondered if perhaps we all did science projects that ulitmately shaped who we became in our careers and lives.
Hypothesis
I distinctly remember 7th grade science being when I decided the environment was important and that I wanted to become a marine biologist. Today I am not a marine biologist; I recruit medical students into medicine and then work with the government to get them medical licenses. But I try my best to be an urban hippie-- I recycle, walk and take public transportation, make my own yogurt and bread and in general try to reduce my carbon footprint. I hypothesized that my friends' middle school science projects would likewise have a positive effect on their current lives.
Materials and Methods
Conducting research in 2009 is so much easier than in 1991! I need not leave my chair to simply email my friends. Email I did: "what was your 7th grade science project-- was it something that still influences you today?" The responses were slow in coming in...apparently people did not remember or else chose to forget.
ET#1 is now a scientist and provided this eloquent response:
"I did however have the following projects that i do remember:in the 4th grade I wrote and illustrated a biography of Daniel Boone. in the 5th grade I made a topographical map of California using salt dough. in the 7th grade I wrote a book of short stories in the style of Jack Londonin the 9th grade I wrote a computer program of Logo that was imitated what a hypercube would look like in a 2d image. Also, I remember some elaborate proof which was a final project on how to estimate the surface of a sphere not using calculus, but algebra only. in the 12th grade in applied math we designed how to draw our classroom using fractals and tried to reduce everything into iterative functions."
My sister did her project, "What Will The Dogs Drink?", an experiment that involved chasing the family pets around the yard and then letting them choose what to drink, red or clear water, salty or sweet, when they were sufficiently thirsty. This project got her the prize in the state competition!
Nora and Jane, a water chemist and law student respectively, both had stories of science fair shame: the fear of public speaking and anxiety about coming up with a worthwhile project. Jane in particular had a harrowing memory:
"I don't remember my 7th grade one but in 5th grade I signed up for an optional one, then procrastinated until the day of, went out and got some rocks from my yard, put them on the table and poured water on them to see which one would absorb water fastest. It had no tagboard no nothing. Just rocks sitting on a piece of paper. I was so ashamed that I didn't tell my parents I was participating and begged my friend to let me stand next to her rock -candy demo whenever she went to the bathroom."
I thought my former neighbor who currently lives, studies and works in a lab in Germany might have had an interesting project, but she couldn't remember. She thought maybe it had something to do with dinosaurs.
Data and Results
In true Andrea form, I'm taking a shortcut here and not providing charts or data. Part of being an adult is being able to make such decisions. I can also eat cookies for dinner and no one will care.
The results were a bit surprising initially, but ultimately make sense. There is a nearly common thread of procrastination, even if few of us actually refer back to the actual projects, or as ET#1 put "Sadly, I don't use any of those things, but I remember I liked finishing them. So maybe that is the lesson I took away. I also remember procrastinating starting each one. So maybe that is the real lesson I took away." Liz, however, is not a procrastinator, which likely helped in getting her to the state competition.
Conclusion
I'd like to make a joke here about how composting is akin to the government forms and documents, but instead I'll just say that regardless of our anxiety, forgetfulness or procrastination tendencies, we are all successful women.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Help A Sister Out!
Why I love my sister. I sent her an email because of an overwhelming amount of personal projects. She's so good at lists and prioritizing!
My quandry:
Here's a partial list of projects that I've either thought about, bought supplies for, or started...but haven't finished. I need help!
felt fruits and vegetables
a new quilt/pillows
painting bathroom
sew slipcover for couch
create terrariums
finish composting project*
Liz's response
Do them like this:
1. finish composting prjct -- deadline this Saturday (this won't takeyou v. long and is urgent priority bc of the mold growing in your expensive bucket)
2. Paint the bathroom -- before new roommate moves in -- maybe this long weekend or during that time when your roommate is out and new person hasn't moved in yet
3. Slip covers -- Also before new roommate moves in but after you paint the bathroom.
4. quilt, felt produce -- start in the fall. it is too hot now for these things. Plus will be good for when you are snowed in.
5. terrarium -- also fall. enjoy your porch plants for now.
*There is an upcoming blog post on this fascinating project, but I'm lazy. Obviously!
My quandry:
Here's a partial list of projects that I've either thought about, bought supplies for, or started...but haven't finished. I need help!
felt fruits and vegetables
a new quilt/pillows
painting bathroom
sew slipcover for couch
create terrariums
finish composting project*
Liz's response
Do them like this:
1. finish composting prjct -- deadline this Saturday (this won't takeyou v. long and is urgent priority bc of the mold growing in your expensive bucket)
2. Paint the bathroom -- before new roommate moves in -- maybe this long weekend or during that time when your roommate is out and new person hasn't moved in yet
3. Slip covers -- Also before new roommate moves in but after you paint the bathroom.
4. quilt, felt produce -- start in the fall. it is too hot now for these things. Plus will be good for when you are snowed in.
5. terrarium -- also fall. enjoy your porch plants for now.
*There is an upcoming blog post on this fascinating project, but I'm lazy. Obviously!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Miss USA
I've been hit with a case of nostalgia something bad. Maybe, like allergies, it's something in the air...Nora and I recently dyed Easter eggs, a craft that hearkens many years of spring weekends spent. I also took up a sewing project and tried to remember my Grandma's instructions on hemming, pinning and sewing in a straight line. My daily perusing through the food blogs dredged up classics such as banana pudding, a snack my mom would make and serve after nap time. And I channeled my father when making my NCAA brackets this year, letting my heart dictate wins for KU and OU. But the clincher, the memory that if it was a cold would set me up on the couch with a roll of toilet paper for my nose for at least two days, was this: a commercial for the Miss USA pageant.
My friends parents and my mom always advocates of slumber parties for my friends and me. A group of us regularly met at each others houses and set up our sleeping bags in dens, played cards, Nintendo and ate junk food to our hearts' content. We'd stay up until 4 am or until the very last one of us couldn't hold her eyes open any longer.
The best slumber parties were the ones when Miss USA was on. From 1990-1993 it was hosted in Wichita, so naturally the whole town was excited and we'd host our own viewing parties. Simultaneously, we'd host our own version of the competition-- Miss Fruitcake (we were enlightened 12 year olds and never took the competition seriously. We all expected to go to college and work hard and if in the course of life we were viewed as attractive in swimsuits, well, that was a bonus). We raided our mom's closets for old dresses and put on make up. My house had a staircase leading to the den and I remember LH vamping in a white satin gown with her golden curls.
Sometimes the best cure for disease is administering a small dose of the offending allergen. With that in mind, if you call on me Sunday night, you might just find me wearing a tiara on the couch, watching the pageant Live from Las Vegas. And that roll of toilet paper? Not for my nose...as any good adolescent girl knows, tp is best stuffed in bras to create falsies.
My friends parents and my mom always advocates of slumber parties for my friends and me. A group of us regularly met at each others houses and set up our sleeping bags in dens, played cards, Nintendo and ate junk food to our hearts' content. We'd stay up until 4 am or until the very last one of us couldn't hold her eyes open any longer.
The best slumber parties were the ones when Miss USA was on. From 1990-1993 it was hosted in Wichita, so naturally the whole town was excited and we'd host our own viewing parties. Simultaneously, we'd host our own version of the competition-- Miss Fruitcake (we were enlightened 12 year olds and never took the competition seriously. We all expected to go to college and work hard and if in the course of life we were viewed as attractive in swimsuits, well, that was a bonus). We raided our mom's closets for old dresses and put on make up. My house had a staircase leading to the den and I remember LH vamping in a white satin gown with her golden curls.
Sometimes the best cure for disease is administering a small dose of the offending allergen. With that in mind, if you call on me Sunday night, you might just find me wearing a tiara on the couch, watching the pageant Live from Las Vegas. And that roll of toilet paper? Not for my nose...as any good adolescent girl knows, tp is best stuffed in bras to create falsies.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Passover Advice From Two Non-Jews
Last year ET#, a former roommate and I staged our first Passover Seder. A year later, being not quite experts in the Jewish faith, we still query each other on technicalities. But anyone could learn from us! Who needs Joan Nathan?!
me: last night had matzoh ball soup from the mix for passover but got a headache from the msg
ET#1: i don't make from mix
me: you are a good Jew
ET#1: it is super easy yes i am a good jew
i threw away all my bread
me: but I like the salty goodness from the mix and I did use schmaltz from my chicken earlier in the week
ET#1: wow
me: but since the chicken was roasted in milk it wasn't kosher
ET#1: i think it might be milk and chicken okay
me: really?
ET#1: milk an beef not okay
me: huh well, it's okay by me either way
ET#1: because a chicken sandwich with ceese okay but a cheeseburger bad
me: really? why would you have a chicken sandwich with cheese? unless it was chicken cordon bleu which is illegal
ET#1: chicken parm
me: OH YUM!! and it's kosher you say?
ET#1: am pretty sure me: using matzoh crumbs?
ET#1: will email my friend i think it is korsher just not allowed during passover big difference anyway matzo balls totally easy to make sans schmaltz as long as you have tasty broth and seperate eggs
me: yes, I am sure you are right
ET#1: no jews in baltimore
me: really??
ET#1: or at least near where i live
me: what about those movies about jews in the 50s in baltimore...
ET#1: i think they live up north in reierstown
me: I'm trying to think
ET#1: really? what movies
me: I don't know I have to think/google but I feel like I can see one in my mind
ET#1: now i am hungry for matzo ball soup
me: last night had matzoh ball soup from the mix for passover but got a headache from the msg
ET#1: i don't make from mix
me: you are a good Jew
ET#1: it is super easy yes i am a good jew
i threw away all my bread
me: but I like the salty goodness from the mix and I did use schmaltz from my chicken earlier in the week
ET#1: wow
me: but since the chicken was roasted in milk it wasn't kosher
ET#1: i think it might be milk and chicken okay
me: really?
ET#1: milk an beef not okay
me: huh well, it's okay by me either way
ET#1: because a chicken sandwich with ceese okay but a cheeseburger bad
me: really? why would you have a chicken sandwich with cheese? unless it was chicken cordon bleu which is illegal
ET#1: chicken parm
me: OH YUM!! and it's kosher you say?
ET#1: am pretty sure me: using matzoh crumbs?
ET#1: will email my friend i think it is korsher just not allowed during passover big difference anyway matzo balls totally easy to make sans schmaltz as long as you have tasty broth and seperate eggs
me: yes, I am sure you are right
ET#1: no jews in baltimore
me: really??
ET#1: or at least near where i live
me: what about those movies about jews in the 50s in baltimore...
ET#1: i think they live up north in reierstown
me: I'm trying to think
ET#1: really? what movies
me: I don't know I have to think/google but I feel like I can see one in my mind
ET#1: now i am hungry for matzo ball soup
Monday, March 30, 2009
Lenten Resolutions
I started observing Lent well after I quit attending church. Protestants aren't so big on Lent anyway (there's no rules like fish on Friday) and most Catholics I knew seemed to make it like a diet. But I started observing maybe 6 or 7 years ago, in part because my sister started. I found it kind of refreshing to take away something I enjoyed for a limited amount of time and appreciate my life going on without that item. Many years I gave up shopping for fun. Obviously I'd allow myself necessities like groceries and soap, but would not allow myself to purchase dresses, makeup, skirts or going out shirts from H&M, for example. One year I tried to give up gossiping, but I realized a goal is only as good as it's ease.This year I am trying two things. The first is going to church. So far so good. I only go on Sundays so it's not like I have to think about not eating chocolate every day of the week.
The second is a pantry challenge-- I only eat the food I have in the pantry and in the fridge and freezer before buying new food, and I only allow myself to go to the grocery store once a week. After G left, I never really got used to cooking for one, so would still make enough for at least two, and therefore the freezer was stuffed to the gills with frozen soups and casseroles. Since grocery shopping is also one of my favorite pastimes, I frequently make purchases willy-nilly. Thus my pantry was filled with bulk items such as kasha and millet and wheat berries, boxes of fancy pasta from the North End, dried fruits and puffed rice for homemade powerbars. Oftentimes I'll find a recipe and buy the ingredients and just use some of it. See kasha, above.
So as Lent started, so did the challenge. I've learned that pasta does go a long ways. As does bacon. Together with some sour cream I improvised a pasta carbonara, which lasted the whole first week in various iterations (including adding braised tomatoes and eggplant). I've learned that soups can use up ingredients like scallions and mushrooms. I also made a soup using anchovies, a can of tomatoes and some pasta. "How interesting you had anchovies" said my mom. My point exactly! I've learned that the crock pot is my best friend-- bread pudding uses up leftover bread, eggs, cranberries from the freezer and the end of a carton of milk.
A month down and I can see the bottoms of my shelves of the fridge and have freed up some pantry jars for more pasta and rice. Above all I've learned that I don't need to go to the grocery store every few days. Careful planning has helped me save money and trim my waistline. But maybe above all I've learned to cook for myself. Just one.
See my recipe for pantry cleaning muffins on my friend's blog, Puff and Choux.
The second is a pantry challenge-- I only eat the food I have in the pantry and in the fridge and freezer before buying new food, and I only allow myself to go to the grocery store once a week. After G left, I never really got used to cooking for one, so would still make enough for at least two, and therefore the freezer was stuffed to the gills with frozen soups and casseroles. Since grocery shopping is also one of my favorite pastimes, I frequently make purchases willy-nilly. Thus my pantry was filled with bulk items such as kasha and millet and wheat berries, boxes of fancy pasta from the North End, dried fruits and puffed rice for homemade powerbars. Oftentimes I'll find a recipe and buy the ingredients and just use some of it. See kasha, above.
So as Lent started, so did the challenge. I've learned that pasta does go a long ways. As does bacon. Together with some sour cream I improvised a pasta carbonara, which lasted the whole first week in various iterations (including adding braised tomatoes and eggplant). I've learned that soups can use up ingredients like scallions and mushrooms. I also made a soup using anchovies, a can of tomatoes and some pasta. "How interesting you had anchovies" said my mom. My point exactly! I've learned that the crock pot is my best friend-- bread pudding uses up leftover bread, eggs, cranberries from the freezer and the end of a carton of milk.
A month down and I can see the bottoms of my shelves of the fridge and have freed up some pantry jars for more pasta and rice. Above all I've learned that I don't need to go to the grocery store every few days. Careful planning has helped me save money and trim my waistline. But maybe above all I've learned to cook for myself. Just one.
See my recipe for pantry cleaning muffins on my friend's blog, Puff and Choux.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Home Buying: A Tragedy
A close friend (we'll call her Dora) recently purchased her first condo. A new home requires lots of upfront work, like painting and minor repairs and renovations. But also some future planning. I sent Dora an email offering to go with her to Home Depot to plan her porch container garden and she sent me this response: "Russo's is much cheaper for this stuff than Home Depot! I've heard it through the grapevine by people that compared prices! "
However, just today her Facebook status says, "Dora is getting to know Home Depot so well! Like we're best buds now." I sense future conflict. Let's see how this pans out over the next few months...
The condo walls look fantastic. Dora and Terry (her hubby) spent the better part of three days painting, courtesy of paint purchased at Home Depot. What does Russo's think about this?
Dora: "Fortunately Russo's is mainly a grocery store, so doesn't even know that I get painting supplies from someplace else."
Three months hence, on a balmy spring day-- grilling and drinks on the porch.
Andrea: "What a great grill-- Terry, you can really do a number on these veggies! Speaking of which, so delightful! Where could you ever have purchased a fine grill like this and such handsome, fresh vegetables?"
Terry: "We picked up the grill from Home Depot! Dora's really developed a close relationship with Depot recently. Depot even joined her bookclub!"
Dora (eyes averted, sheepishly): "But the veggies...they came from Russo's."
Andrea (suddenly serious, with judgement in her eyes): "Don't you think it's a little unfair for you to still be seeing both Depot and Russo's? I think you ought to pick one and let the other know."
Two months later, in the heat of summer, I visit Dora and Terry. Dora looks ravaged and thin, with dark circles under her eyes. The condo is quite...hot.
Andrea: "Can't you guys get an AC, or at least some fans in here? It's 95 degrees outside!"
Dora: "No...Depot won't see me. I buy too much produce from Russo's and Depot has shut me out! And Russo's is too 'cheap' to give us a cooling device. We'll have to sit outside, where at least there are plenty of ferns."
Fortunately there's still time to get this resolved, early in this relationship...what will Dora decide?
However, just today her Facebook status says, "Dora is getting to know Home Depot so well! Like we're best buds now." I sense future conflict. Let's see how this pans out over the next few months...
The condo walls look fantastic. Dora and Terry (her hubby) spent the better part of three days painting, courtesy of paint purchased at Home Depot. What does Russo's think about this?
Dora: "Fortunately Russo's is mainly a grocery store, so doesn't even know that I get painting supplies from someplace else."
Three months hence, on a balmy spring day-- grilling and drinks on the porch.
Andrea: "What a great grill-- Terry, you can really do a number on these veggies! Speaking of which, so delightful! Where could you ever have purchased a fine grill like this and such handsome, fresh vegetables?"
Terry: "We picked up the grill from Home Depot! Dora's really developed a close relationship with Depot recently. Depot even joined her bookclub!"
Dora (eyes averted, sheepishly): "But the veggies...they came from Russo's."
Andrea (suddenly serious, with judgement in her eyes): "Don't you think it's a little unfair for you to still be seeing both Depot and Russo's? I think you ought to pick one and let the other know."
Two months later, in the heat of summer, I visit Dora and Terry. Dora looks ravaged and thin, with dark circles under her eyes. The condo is quite...hot.
Andrea: "Can't you guys get an AC, or at least some fans in here? It's 95 degrees outside!"
Dora: "No...Depot won't see me. I buy too much produce from Russo's and Depot has shut me out! And Russo's is too 'cheap' to give us a cooling device. We'll have to sit outside, where at least there are plenty of ferns."
Fortunately there's still time to get this resolved, early in this relationship...what will Dora decide?
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Herding Cats
Soul is about six years old, but still on occassion has the fire of a kitten. He's recently taken to jumping in the kitchen sink and on the kitchen counters-- really the only places in the apartment he's not allowed. Below are some suggestions and tips I've received to dissuade him from this bad behavior.
1. Spray him with a water bottle.
tried? yes.
result? hates it, but not enough to keep him off the counters permanently.
2. Solitary confinement: catch him after he jumps off the counter and toss him into the dark bedroom for the evening while Nova and I enjoy tv and snacks.
tried? yes.
result? keeps him off the counter for the time he's in the room, but the jealously tactic doesn't work and he's back on the counter as soon as he's released.
3. Whisper, "you're a goooood cat, you're so well behaved! be a goooooood cat" to him in his ear while he's sleeping, as sort of subliminal messaging.
tried? yes.
result? positive! he seems to like positive attention at least as much as negative attention and since I've started this tactic, he's maybe jumped on the counter slightly less. But he still jumps on the counter.
4. Scold the counter, not the cat. Idea being that who would want to jump on a counter that always gets in trouble?
tried? nooooo....
5. Spiritual guidance.
tried? not yet. St. Francis prayer cards, candles and icons will soon be ordered from totallycatholic.com.
1. Spray him with a water bottle.
tried? yes.
result? hates it, but not enough to keep him off the counters permanently.
2. Solitary confinement: catch him after he jumps off the counter and toss him into the dark bedroom for the evening while Nova and I enjoy tv and snacks.
tried? yes.
result? keeps him off the counter for the time he's in the room, but the jealously tactic doesn't work and he's back on the counter as soon as he's released.
3. Whisper, "you're a goooood cat, you're so well behaved! be a goooooood cat" to him in his ear while he's sleeping, as sort of subliminal messaging.
tried? yes.
result? positive! he seems to like positive attention at least as much as negative attention and since I've started this tactic, he's maybe jumped on the counter slightly less. But he still jumps on the counter.
4. Scold the counter, not the cat. Idea being that who would want to jump on a counter that always gets in trouble?
tried? nooooo....
5. Spiritual guidance.
tried? not yet. St. Francis prayer cards, candles and icons will soon be ordered from totallycatholic.com.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Advice For Tough Times
Times are tough. No doubt you were surprised a few months back when Economic Officials declared the U.S.A in a recession. Turns out that all the job losses, home foreclosures, expensive groceries and limited goods (Wiis stilll hard to find) were not just coincidental.
We've had eight years of free reign in the school yard, and now President Obama has asked that we make hard choices and sacrifices. Here's some advice on how to live in this New Order.
We've had eight years of free reign in the school yard, and now President Obama has asked that we make hard choices and sacrifices. Here's some advice on how to live in this New Order.
recycling and reusing:
We've all been conditioned to drink our water out of Siggs or Camelbaks, but how far can we take it? While in the Tannery* yesterday an old episode of American Top 40 was on. ET#1 and I were stopped in our tracks as the Long Distance Dedication came on. Instantly time was recycled. Were we in 2009? Or 1989?
ration coupons:
We're in the middle of two wars and thus have to limit our coffee, sugar and gasoline consumption. We've been granted ration cards. Oops, wait. Actually, we've been issued government coupons for the digital tv box converter.
shopping:
Can we go shopping even though we need to use cash not credit? Yes We Can! Go downscale: skirts at Old Navy can be found for $1.99. Or better yet, go upscale. Make a day of shopping at only stores like Barney's and Louis Boston. Make remarks like, "Ah this Ferragamo bag is on sale-- marked down from $1199 to $699-- not bad!" Or, try on BCBG dresses marked down 70%. When the salesclerk asks how you are doing, sigh and say, "I really wanted this in green." Don't buy anything.
(*Unless you need a pair of fur lined boots, to keep you warm when you aren't using your heat. All shoes at the Tannery are buy one pair, the 2nd pair is half off).
With a little determination, elbow grease and ingenuity, we will have Change We Can Believe In!
shopping:
Can we go shopping even though we need to use cash not credit? Yes We Can! Go downscale: skirts at Old Navy can be found for $1.99. Or better yet, go upscale. Make a day of shopping at only stores like Barney's and Louis Boston. Make remarks like, "Ah this Ferragamo bag is on sale-- marked down from $1199 to $699-- not bad!" Or, try on BCBG dresses marked down 70%. When the salesclerk asks how you are doing, sigh and say, "I really wanted this in green." Don't buy anything.
(*Unless you need a pair of fur lined boots, to keep you warm when you aren't using your heat. All shoes at the Tannery are buy one pair, the 2nd pair is half off).
With a little determination, elbow grease and ingenuity, we will have Change We Can Believe In!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Alternate (Superhero) Endings to My Recent Mugging
About a month ago, while walking down my street around 7:15 pm, I was mugged, but not hurt, by a group of teenagers in front of a church. They got away with my going out purse, containing my keys, my T pass, my debit card, my license, my phone, and $15.
The following are imagined scenarios with better endings.
1. As the kids snicker about 20 feet behind me, I turn around. I am a vampire and with lightening speed rush towards them. I need only bare my fearsome teeth and they all turn and run.
2. When approached by two kids right behind me, I stop, jab my elbows backward, expertly knocking them both in the chins, a la Angelina Jolie. I then do a roundhouse kick, knocking them both to the ground and step, with my navy patent 4 inch heels, on hand of the one holding the gun, daring the others to continue their assault. They flee in fear.
3. As the kids snicker and approach behind me, a winged Christian Bale/Batman jumps off the daycare building to my right. He wrestles the gun out of the assailant's hand, knocks the heads of two sidekicks together and swoops me to safety.
4. When the kids surround me, I blink my eyes, stopping time like Hiro Nakumura. In stopped time I manuever the kid with the gun to face instead his friend. I remove the belts of the whole group of kids and pull down their hats over their eyes. I hide behind the Mary statue and start time, watching as chaos ensues.
5. I'm walking fast, but not fast enough. The kids surround me. But just then, lightening strikes and thunder rumbles. God comes out of the church and smotes the kids. He is pissed, but I am saved.
In all scenarios, I straighten my jacket, rub a smudge off my right shoe, and continue on to the party that in real life I missed.
The following are imagined scenarios with better endings.
1. As the kids snicker about 20 feet behind me, I turn around. I am a vampire and with lightening speed rush towards them. I need only bare my fearsome teeth and they all turn and run.
2. When approached by two kids right behind me, I stop, jab my elbows backward, expertly knocking them both in the chins, a la Angelina Jolie. I then do a roundhouse kick, knocking them both to the ground and step, with my navy patent 4 inch heels, on hand of the one holding the gun, daring the others to continue their assault. They flee in fear.
3. As the kids snicker and approach behind me, a winged Christian Bale/Batman jumps off the daycare building to my right. He wrestles the gun out of the assailant's hand, knocks the heads of two sidekicks together and swoops me to safety.
4. When the kids surround me, I blink my eyes, stopping time like Hiro Nakumura. In stopped time I manuever the kid with the gun to face instead his friend. I remove the belts of the whole group of kids and pull down their hats over their eyes. I hide behind the Mary statue and start time, watching as chaos ensues.
5. I'm walking fast, but not fast enough. The kids surround me. But just then, lightening strikes and thunder rumbles. God comes out of the church and smotes the kids. He is pissed, but I am saved.
In all scenarios, I straighten my jacket, rub a smudge off my right shoe, and continue on to the party that in real life I missed.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Grocery Shopping
At the Boylston Street Trader Joe's last week....
Checker: And would you like paper or plastic?
Me: Oh, I brought my own bag, thanks!
Checker: Great! And, how will you be paying, credit or debit?
Me: (taking out wallet) Credit
Checker: (looking at me) You've got a pregnant...
Me: (to self) Oh.My.God. If he even says I am pregnant?! I know after my depression starvation I've put on a little more weight, but really, I've been doing crunches. Is my shirt to tight? I need to clean out my clothes. And hold in my belly! But really, I could be pregnant. I really only have a limited time frame left anyway...but why does this guy need to be telling me that? I think he has an accent. Maybe it's a cultural difference and it's okay that he's saying this. Oh, God. I think I'm going to cry! I'm not pregnant! I'm turning bright red, I can feel it! I've got to get out of here. This is so embarrassing.
Checker: (finishing sentence) ...wallet.
Me: (to self, relieved) Oh. The George Costanza wallet.
Checker: Have a great night!
Checker: And would you like paper or plastic?
Me: Oh, I brought my own bag, thanks!
Checker: Great! And, how will you be paying, credit or debit?
Me: (taking out wallet) Credit
Checker: (looking at me) You've got a pregnant...
Me: (to self) Oh.My.God. If he even says I am pregnant?! I know after my depression starvation I've put on a little more weight, but really, I've been doing crunches. Is my shirt to tight? I need to clean out my clothes. And hold in my belly! But really, I could be pregnant. I really only have a limited time frame left anyway...but why does this guy need to be telling me that? I think he has an accent. Maybe it's a cultural difference and it's okay that he's saying this. Oh, God. I think I'm going to cry! I'm not pregnant! I'm turning bright red, I can feel it! I've got to get out of here. This is so embarrassing.
Checker: (finishing sentence) ...wallet.
Me: (to self, relieved) Oh. The George Costanza wallet.
Checker: Have a great night!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
A Legacy for the Ages
Dubya's in lame duck mode right now, and in a couple months we'll all be contemplating his legacy. A lot has happened over the past seven and a half years, and I think we can all agree on his most successful act: the marriage of his daughter Jenna to a hand-picked up and coming Republican. Before 9/11, before we invaded Iraq and before gas was $4/gallon, Bush vacationed at his ranch non-stop, sharks were rampant on America's beaches, and the Bush twins were out of control...
At approximately 10:19 on Tuesday, May 29th, the Austin Police Department received a 9-1-1 call reporting minors attempting to purchase alcohol. The caller was the manager of Chuy's Restaurant located at 1728 Barton Springs Road.
APD patrol officers arrived and found that Jenna and Barbara Bush, 19, were alleged to have been involved in this incident. As no offense was witnessed by APD officers, following routine procedures, further investigation is required to determine if any charges will be filed. APD and the Texas Alcohol Beverage Commission are investigating this incident.
ABCNEWS.com, June 4, 2001
*The night of the "alleged incident" is clear in my mind. Barbara was visiting from Yale and I had promised her a good night on the town. It had been chilly and rainy the previous week, but Tuesday was beautiful and warm and everyone was ready to go out and pary. Barb is very sweet, but just doesn't know how to have a good time. This is off the record, but I generally think of myself as being the social butterfly. I mean, she goes to Yale where all they do is study! Anyway, the end of the semester was approaching and I had a few favors to call in. I borrowed Maggie's ID--she's 21 and I had lent her my favorite capris a few weeks earlier and she had spilled beer all over them, ruining them. She felt so bad about it that she was more than happy to lend me her ID. I gave my Secret Service guys, Joe and Nathan, twenty bucks each to leave us on our own for the night. I have them wrapped around my finger. My good friend Lisa assured me her roommate was tending bar at Chuy's and that if we asked for Sarah, we would have no problem getting served. Once there, I couldn't find Sarah, but calmly and cooly used Maggie's ID to order a round of margaritas. So when APD officers arrived at the restaurant at around, I guess, 10 o'clock, I had no idea what had gone wrong...
Of course she had no idea what went wrong! The girl was wrecked. I don't know what Jenna told you, but I knew the night was ill-fated from the beginning. First of all, she was still in the doghouse with mom for her possession of alcohol incident about a month ago. I told her we should lie low and maybe just take in a movie. My friend Ashley was with me and didn't have a fake ID and didn't want to risk getting in trouble. But there is no stopping Jenna when she puts her mind to something, even though she rarely thinks things through. We may be twins, but we are as different as night and day. To tell you the truth, I always consider myself to be the smarter one. But back to May 29th. Early in the evening Jenna snuck into this girl Maggie's room and searched through her desk until she found her driver's license. She mumbled something about capri pant, and when I asked her if she should really be searching through this girl's private stuff, she just said something about Maggie owing her. Then she broke out the Coronas. After about three beers, she said this girl Lisa's roommate, Sarah, worked at a restaurant in South Austin and that she had some stuff on her about cheating on a Biology exam first semester, so if she refused to serve us, Jenna would have only to make a call to the dean. Ditching our Secret Service guys was the hardest part of the evening. But by 8:30 Jenna had already downed the whole six-pack of beer, and was determined to get to that restaurant! Jenna tried to bribe Nathan and Joe with 40 bucks, but they just laughed at her. So we came up with something and ended up having to climb out of the second floor bathroom window and shimmy down the drain pipe.
Once at Chuy's, I was hoping to just sit down and order some food, but Jenna had to make a big production. You'd think, since she was using someone else's ID, she would keep a low profile and be subtle, but no. She was dancing and singing on the table! Before I knew it we all had drinks in front of us. Some guy bought us a round of shots. By then the manager had already called the police. Jenna was angry and kept yelling at the police, asking them if they knew who her father was. She said she would tell Daddy not to give them their tax rebates.
After we got home, I knew we were really going to be in for it. There were irate messages from Maggie, Lisa and Sarah. Nathan and Joe were not happy. They had already called Daddy and seemed pretty concerned about their jobs. I think I overheard them say something about Chelsea being an ideal charge.
I remember it being a great night--except for the police coming. I'm not sure why Barb is so grumpy. What's the big deal? She wanted a good time and I showed it to her. Nathan and Joe just laughed at us and joked about how much more fun we were than that goody-two-shoes, Chelsea. I'm really lucky they have such a great sense of humor. Appeasing Daddy is a piece of cake, but Mom's another story. I think she might still be mad about last month. The other week at Camp David I caught her in the kitchen taking some pills and mumbling something about Chelsea being a dream daughter.
Yeah, I'm pretty mad at Jenna right now. I'm going to have to smooth things over with Mom and Daddy, as usual, not to mention straightening things out with her friends. She just takes no responsibility! I don't know what she would do it she didn't have me.
Barb is so lucky she has me. I mean, who else is as much fun as me? She would be stuck at Yale, studying, studying, studying.
*This bit of fiction is reprinted, courtesy of myself, Andrea. I found it in a box, where it's been sitting since I took a summer creative writing class years ago.
At approximately 10:19 on Tuesday, May 29th, the Austin Police Department received a 9-1-1 call reporting minors attempting to purchase alcohol. The caller was the manager of Chuy's Restaurant located at 1728 Barton Springs Road.
APD patrol officers arrived and found that Jenna and Barbara Bush, 19, were alleged to have been involved in this incident. As no offense was witnessed by APD officers, following routine procedures, further investigation is required to determine if any charges will be filed. APD and the Texas Alcohol Beverage Commission are investigating this incident.
ABCNEWS.com, June 4, 2001
*The night of the "alleged incident" is clear in my mind. Barbara was visiting from Yale and I had promised her a good night on the town. It had been chilly and rainy the previous week, but Tuesday was beautiful and warm and everyone was ready to go out and pary. Barb is very sweet, but just doesn't know how to have a good time. This is off the record, but I generally think of myself as being the social butterfly. I mean, she goes to Yale where all they do is study! Anyway, the end of the semester was approaching and I had a few favors to call in. I borrowed Maggie's ID--she's 21 and I had lent her my favorite capris a few weeks earlier and she had spilled beer all over them, ruining them. She felt so bad about it that she was more than happy to lend me her ID. I gave my Secret Service guys, Joe and Nathan, twenty bucks each to leave us on our own for the night. I have them wrapped around my finger. My good friend Lisa assured me her roommate was tending bar at Chuy's and that if we asked for Sarah, we would have no problem getting served. Once there, I couldn't find Sarah, but calmly and cooly used Maggie's ID to order a round of margaritas. So when APD officers arrived at the restaurant at around, I guess, 10 o'clock, I had no idea what had gone wrong...
Of course she had no idea what went wrong! The girl was wrecked. I don't know what Jenna told you, but I knew the night was ill-fated from the beginning. First of all, she was still in the doghouse with mom for her possession of alcohol incident about a month ago. I told her we should lie low and maybe just take in a movie. My friend Ashley was with me and didn't have a fake ID and didn't want to risk getting in trouble. But there is no stopping Jenna when she puts her mind to something, even though she rarely thinks things through. We may be twins, but we are as different as night and day. To tell you the truth, I always consider myself to be the smarter one. But back to May 29th. Early in the evening Jenna snuck into this girl Maggie's room and searched through her desk until she found her driver's license. She mumbled something about capri pant, and when I asked her if she should really be searching through this girl's private stuff, she just said something about Maggie owing her. Then she broke out the Coronas. After about three beers, she said this girl Lisa's roommate, Sarah, worked at a restaurant in South Austin and that she had some stuff on her about cheating on a Biology exam first semester, so if she refused to serve us, Jenna would have only to make a call to the dean. Ditching our Secret Service guys was the hardest part of the evening. But by 8:30 Jenna had already downed the whole six-pack of beer, and was determined to get to that restaurant! Jenna tried to bribe Nathan and Joe with 40 bucks, but they just laughed at her. So we came up with something and ended up having to climb out of the second floor bathroom window and shimmy down the drain pipe.
Once at Chuy's, I was hoping to just sit down and order some food, but Jenna had to make a big production. You'd think, since she was using someone else's ID, she would keep a low profile and be subtle, but no. She was dancing and singing on the table! Before I knew it we all had drinks in front of us. Some guy bought us a round of shots. By then the manager had already called the police. Jenna was angry and kept yelling at the police, asking them if they knew who her father was. She said she would tell Daddy not to give them their tax rebates.
After we got home, I knew we were really going to be in for it. There were irate messages from Maggie, Lisa and Sarah. Nathan and Joe were not happy. They had already called Daddy and seemed pretty concerned about their jobs. I think I overheard them say something about Chelsea being an ideal charge.
I remember it being a great night--except for the police coming. I'm not sure why Barb is so grumpy. What's the big deal? She wanted a good time and I showed it to her. Nathan and Joe just laughed at us and joked about how much more fun we were than that goody-two-shoes, Chelsea. I'm really lucky they have such a great sense of humor. Appeasing Daddy is a piece of cake, but Mom's another story. I think she might still be mad about last month. The other week at Camp David I caught her in the kitchen taking some pills and mumbling something about Chelsea being a dream daughter.
Yeah, I'm pretty mad at Jenna right now. I'm going to have to smooth things over with Mom and Daddy, as usual, not to mention straightening things out with her friends. She just takes no responsibility! I don't know what she would do it she didn't have me.
Barb is so lucky she has me. I mean, who else is as much fun as me? She would be stuck at Yale, studying, studying, studying.
*This bit of fiction is reprinted, courtesy of myself, Andrea. I found it in a box, where it's been sitting since I took a summer creative writing class years ago.
Monday, July 14, 2008
On Being a Good Friend
If you happened to pass by the corner of Boylston and Clarendon around 6:30 the evening of Wednesday July 2, you might have seen two professional 30 year old women fishing around in the gutter. Had Rashmi and I fallen to drugs? Not exactly...the following is the series of events leading up the the gutter episode.
4:30 pm-- Decide to meet for dinner and drinks at the Globe. Contemplate The Cactus Club but decide that burgers and waffle fries would be better.
5:20 pm-- Arrive at the Globe and decide to drink iced tea and Roy Rogers, making it a "sober night". But I decide to subsitute the iced tea for a Rolling Rock.
5:45-6:15 pm-- chow down and sandwiches and waffle fries and comment on passers-by.
6:25 pm-- walk down Boylston deciding where to go next...and Rashmi gives her necklace a thoughtful tug, which causes the line to snap and a cascade of beads to fall into the gutter.
Since she still had a good handful, I said, "quick, just stuff those into your bag and you can restring them. It will be okay!" She looks unsure and says, "But it's my favorite necklace [later confirmed by her sister, who knew exactly which necklace it was without missing a beat]! It's from Target but..."
As I'm telling her it will be okay, that she still does have most of the beads, she starts picking loose beads up off the sidewalk...and then fishing them out of the gutter.
"Uh, do you need help?" I hesitate, but can't stand by while my friend dirties her hands, while balancing on her haunches. So down I go, and start fishing them out as well.
"Andrea, there's one over there."
"No, that's a cigarette butt."
When we had sufficiently gathered the beads into our hands, I looked at her and said, "You realize we need to beeline for the Filene's Basement bathroom stat." We hurried across the street with our hands in front of us and ran upstairs equally laughing and pushing bargain shoppers out of the way.
When we were washing the beads and our hands, Rashmi said, "thanks-- you are such a great friend!" Well, if all it takes is fishing around in a Boston gutter, I'll take it!
4:30 pm-- Decide to meet for dinner and drinks at the Globe. Contemplate The Cactus Club but decide that burgers and waffle fries would be better.
5:20 pm-- Arrive at the Globe and decide to drink iced tea and Roy Rogers, making it a "sober night". But I decide to subsitute the iced tea for a Rolling Rock.
5:45-6:15 pm-- chow down and sandwiches and waffle fries and comment on passers-by.
6:25 pm-- walk down Boylston deciding where to go next...and Rashmi gives her necklace a thoughtful tug, which causes the line to snap and a cascade of beads to fall into the gutter.
Since she still had a good handful, I said, "quick, just stuff those into your bag and you can restring them. It will be okay!" She looks unsure and says, "But it's my favorite necklace [later confirmed by her sister, who knew exactly which necklace it was without missing a beat]! It's from Target but..."
As I'm telling her it will be okay, that she still does have most of the beads, she starts picking loose beads up off the sidewalk...and then fishing them out of the gutter.
"Uh, do you need help?" I hesitate, but can't stand by while my friend dirties her hands, while balancing on her haunches. So down I go, and start fishing them out as well.
"Andrea, there's one over there."
"No, that's a cigarette butt."
When we had sufficiently gathered the beads into our hands, I looked at her and said, "You realize we need to beeline for the Filene's Basement bathroom stat." We hurried across the street with our hands in front of us and ran upstairs equally laughing and pushing bargain shoppers out of the way.
When we were washing the beads and our hands, Rashmi said, "thanks-- you are such a great friend!" Well, if all it takes is fishing around in a Boston gutter, I'll take it!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
On Ageing Gracefully
A celebratory birthday trip to D.C. yielded some helpful lessons On Ageing Gracefully.
My mom and I arrived just in time for cocktail hour on Thursday. We had a few drinks at Liz's apartment, then proceeded on to Lauriol Plaza for Mexican food and margaritas.
Liz ordered a round of tequilla shots for us. We all downed them...or so we thought.
My mom and I arrived just in time for cocktail hour on Thursday. We had a few drinks at Liz's apartment, then proceeded on to Lauriol Plaza for Mexican food and margaritas.
Liz ordered a round of tequilla shots for us. We all downed them...or so we thought.
Lesson 1. If you feel you can't do the whole shot in one gulp, just go, "whew, that was strong!" and wipe your brow AS IF you too had taken the shot. When your daughters realize you faked them out, just dump half untouched shot in your margarita, swallow the rest of it, then proceed to finish everyone else's margarita at the table, shaming your daughters. Old does not mean lame!
We arranged time for birthday facials on Friday afternoon. In the waiting area we were asked to fill out a questionnaire regarding our skin care regime and skin quality, texture, etc. A series of boxes asked that we indicate what age range we were, ie, 20 and under, 21-30, 31-45, etc.
Lesson 2. Upon realizing that you really fall in the very last age range of 60 or older, declare that "they don't really need to know that" and check off the 2nd to last box instead.
We arranged time for birthday facials on Friday afternoon. In the waiting area we were asked to fill out a questionnaire regarding our skin care regime and skin quality, texture, etc. A series of boxes asked that we indicate what age range we were, ie, 20 and under, 21-30, 31-45, etc.
Lesson 2. Upon realizing that you really fall in the very last age range of 60 or older, declare that "they don't really need to know that" and check off the 2nd to last box instead.
After a disappointing Nationals game (the game was disappointing, the beer, peanuts and hot dogs were not), we decided to go to Kramer's for dessert and drinks. Our young server asked us for our IDs, which my sister and I gladly handed over. To my mom, in all seriousness, she said, "I'll need to see yours too." My mom blushed, "really?" then dug out her ID when the server sheepishly apologized but said she didn't want to get in trouble.
Lesson 3. Being carded is the sincerest form of flattery.
Having eaten out and walked the city for three 90+ degree days, we stayed in on Sunday to make dinner. Matt set up the Wii so we could play Mario Kart and Liz worked on the dinner. My mom and I teamed up and raced through multiple levels while Matt was grilling. Liz asked for someone to set the table to which I responded, "I can't-- I've got two more laps!" She looked at my mom, who responded, "I can't either-- we're a team and I've got to cheer her on!" (My sister huffed and purposely kept walking in front of the tv).Lesson 4. You're only as old as you feel, or when in doubt, enact mother-daughter role reversal.
Lesson 5. Note to self: Remember these lessons, and this weekend, so that when you are 40 years old (with a couple extra decades of experience), you can age gracefully as well.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Boston, I Love You
Something strange has been happening in Boston recently. Sure, the Celts are kicking it and Lester had a no-hitter, but something more subversive has been taking place. I asked my friend Rashmi, "Have you noticed that people are a lot more...friendly recently?" Once my eyes weren't clouded by a daily deluge of tears, I realized that basic courtesy and then some has been running rampant throughout Beantown.
It started with a low point a few months back. On one (probably rainy) day, I was yelled at by both the bus driver (for not waiting the appropriate amount of time to tap my Charlie Card on the sensor) and the librarian at the BPL (for mistakenly believing that when she had finished helping the patron in front of me that she would be ready to help me). In the words of LCD Soundsystem, "New York I love you, but you're bringing me down." Only substitute Boston for New York. I retreated home and emerged only when the trees started to green and the crocus and daffodils started to bloom. And that's when I noticed it.
The crossing guard by the school near me sees me coming down the street and always pushes the walk button before I get there. Then she waves me across and we wish each other good morning. The high school kid working the register at Harvest notices that the celery I'd picked up were fairly limp; did I still want to buy them? A bus driver with an out of service bus picks me and one other woman up, saying he'll at least make two people happy, although he has to bypass the hoards of people waiting at other stops while the buses get back on the right time. On the last T of the night a tired woman with many bags looks at me and offers me her seat! (I respectfully declined). And finally, most impressively, the Haymarket vendors not only lack their usual surliness, but are downright chatty: they joke with us, tell us which fruits really are best, let us choose our produce and even ask what we're planning to cook. Totally unheard of.
Rashmi's response to my original query was this. "The citizens of Boston are a mirror of you. I'm glad you're feeling happier."
It started with a low point a few months back. On one (probably rainy) day, I was yelled at by both the bus driver (for not waiting the appropriate amount of time to tap my Charlie Card on the sensor) and the librarian at the BPL (for mistakenly believing that when she had finished helping the patron in front of me that she would be ready to help me). In the words of LCD Soundsystem, "New York I love you, but you're bringing me down." Only substitute Boston for New York. I retreated home and emerged only when the trees started to green and the crocus and daffodils started to bloom. And that's when I noticed it.
The crossing guard by the school near me sees me coming down the street and always pushes the walk button before I get there. Then she waves me across and we wish each other good morning. The high school kid working the register at Harvest notices that the celery I'd picked up were fairly limp; did I still want to buy them? A bus driver with an out of service bus picks me and one other woman up, saying he'll at least make two people happy, although he has to bypass the hoards of people waiting at other stops while the buses get back on the right time. On the last T of the night a tired woman with many bags looks at me and offers me her seat! (I respectfully declined). And finally, most impressively, the Haymarket vendors not only lack their usual surliness, but are downright chatty: they joke with us, tell us which fruits really are best, let us choose our produce and even ask what we're planning to cook. Totally unheard of.
Rashmi's response to my original query was this. "The citizens of Boston are a mirror of you. I'm glad you're feeling happier."
Monday, April 28, 2008
Spiritual Help, Part 3
I am a midwestern raised Protestant which I like to tell people means I have certain inherent qualities: the Protestant work ethic (ie, even if I'm sick, which in itself should never happen, I would still report to work), a sense of patience (attributed to long drives over the prairies and farmland) and a reticence to talk about personal stuff too much (no need to burden someone else with my problems). Since Protestants are allowed to interpret the Bible as best they see fit, church services are short and sweet, with the ultimate goal to get into heaven, but with a stop at the social hall after service for donuts and coffee first.
Needless to say the pomp and ritual of Catholicism was always fascinating to me. Remember the scene in Mermaids where Winona Ryder is praying to a homemade shrine to the Virgin Mary and her mother played by Cher says, "Charlotte, we're Jewish."? I think of that scene often...
So when I was waiting to act on my psychic's advice, I started getting anxious. Some research (http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/sf/real-estate/real-estate-superstition-st-joseph-statues-043270 ) revealed that St. Joseph is the patron saint of housing. I didn't exactly need to sell my house, but I did in effect need to sell one room. Despite months of living frugally and saving every last penny, I had no compunction about immediately purchasing the Double Novena St. Joseph & Jude Housing Kit from totallycatholic.com.
It arrived a few days later and contained 1 2.5 inch plastic Saint (I'm guessing Joseph?), one tiny 1 inch Saint in a plastic case (St. Joseph, to bury in the ground), one St. Joseph medallion (perhaps good for a certain cat's collar) and 2 saint cards.
The best part of the package may well be the invoice. One line on the invoice says, "Catholic Church Canon Law forbids the sale of items that have been blessed - please have your items blessed by a Catholic priest so that they may become true sacramentals. Tell your family and friends about TotallyCatholic.com - make $$! Sign up free for our affiliate program!" This doesn't make sense to me so if anyone can elucidate, please do so! Further down along the invoice they request the customers share their successful home selling stories, saying "We have sold thousands of kits since we first invented the idea 13 years ago." Um, I guess I was under the impression that this was "invented" by St. Joseph? Finally, at the very bottom it reads, "TotallyCatholic.com now serving Mystic Monks Coffee - the finest coffee in the world, made by real monks! www.MysticMonksCoffee.net" Ah ha! Finally the lost connection between us social hour loving Protestants and our Catholic brethren.
The psychic and/or saints paid off-- I had a roommate by the end of the week.
It arrived a few days later and contained 1 2.5 inch plastic Saint (I'm guessing Joseph?), one tiny 1 inch Saint in a plastic case (St. Joseph, to bury in the ground), one St. Joseph medallion (perhaps good for a certain cat's collar) and 2 saint cards.
The best part of the package may well be the invoice. One line on the invoice says, "Catholic Church Canon Law forbids the sale of items that have been blessed - please have your items blessed by a Catholic priest so that they may become true sacramentals. Tell your family and friends about TotallyCatholic.com - make $$! Sign up free for our affiliate program!" This doesn't make sense to me so if anyone can elucidate, please do so! Further down along the invoice they request the customers share their successful home selling stories, saying "We have sold thousands of kits since we first invented the idea 13 years ago." Um, I guess I was under the impression that this was "invented" by St. Joseph? Finally, at the very bottom it reads, "TotallyCatholic.com now serving Mystic Monks Coffee - the finest coffee in the world, made by real monks! www.MysticMonksCoffee.net" Ah ha! Finally the lost connection between us social hour loving Protestants and our Catholic brethren.
The psychic and/or saints paid off-- I had a roommate by the end of the week.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Spiritual Help, Part 2*
In my opinion, the best way to pass the time when feeling blue is to coerce your friends into spending time with you, and perhaps forcing them to cook for you as well. If you force them to cook a 5 lb brisket, all the better. And, if you force them to cook brisket for you, while pretending to be Jewish, well, it just doesn't get any better than that. Mood improvement is guaranteed.
Last Wednesday I emailed ET#1 and told her we should be on the lookout for Passover Coca Cola. It is made with actual sugar, not high fructose corn syrup and thus brings about a nostalgia for so many things past (taping songs off the radio, watching movies on beta max, Atari, Sweet Valley High...). She responded that she would indeed look for it, and that also she'd had a dream about brisket. Should we have a Passover Seder? Of course. Not being Jewish is just a technicality, plus don't we all need to free ourselves from captivity at some point?
By Friday she had a 5 lb brisket, a shank bone and a full menu planned. I had invited our other former roommate, Brandi, who agreed to attend our seder without batting an eye. I collected recipes from Jewish (thanks for the charoset, Nora) and non-Jewish (the flan was a hit, Rashmi) friends alike. Saturday morning ET#1 and I met at 8:30 am at Mike's Pastry before hitting Haymarket. I ordered my standard canoli and when I mentioned it to my mom later, she snarkily replied she was glad to know it being Passover didn't stop me from eating pastries. I reminded her we aren't Jewish. Haymarket provided some necessary fruits and veggies (apples and leeks) and some non necessary ones (a 5 lb bag of salad for $2). I spent the remainder of the Sabbath preparing the flan using a dozen eggs and snacking on matzoh. I headed over to ET#1's abode and was greeted with the following menu:
Matzoh ball soup
Frisee Salad with orange
The 5 lb. Brisket
Sauteed carrots
Steamed asparagus
Charoset (apples, walnuts, dried cherries and just a touch of red wine)
Red Wine
Roasted tomatoes
Potato Kugel
Orange Almond Flan
The Seder Plate and Matzohs
I started to feel full just looking at it all. Needless to say, it was too much food for 3 people, even though we left the door open for Elijah. But eat we did, and I really did get full. And I really did not feel blue at all!
*Due to the time sensitive nature of Passover, this post is going up before the totallycatholic.com post.
*Due to the time sensitive nature of Passover, this post is going up before the totallycatholic.com post.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Spiritual Help, Part 1
Those of you who know me and read this know the past 6 months have been less than stellar. Sure, the mice got caught and friends supported me with crappy food* and entertainment, but despite my best efforts life was difficult. A couple weeks ago I decided my life was out of control and someone else needed to help.
It was time to go to the psychic.
It was my mom's idea. Apparently mom advice only lasts so long, so she said to me, "You and ET#1 need to go to the psychic." Some yelp research landed us at the Tremont Tearoom. A call to make appointments rendered a chuckle; apparently business is not so great as to require appointments. So we went on a Sunday, when we could claim the $5 off discount. After stopping for breathmints and a lotto ticket, we found our way into a dark building and took the beer smelling elevator up to 3. Nag Champa and Patchouli lured us into a studio with a handful of psychics at small tables, at least one working the phone for call-ins. I paid cash upfront for our adventure and we each chose our psychic after consulting a menu of services (the combo platter of palm reading and tarot reading sounded delicious to me). Like making a birthday wish, I'm not sure one is supposed to reveal their reading but let me say that my reading was satisfying. Being a perpetual renter I am annually or biennially looking for a roommate and was assured by my pyschic that I need only wait until the end of the week, re-word and re-post my ad. She also said I should take sailing lessons.
ET#1 and I left with renewed focus and determination and wandered over to Chinatown to eat soup. My peace of mind lasted a few days, but I started getting anxious mid-week. Once again I needed help outside the earthly realm. I needed God.
I decided to place and order with totallycatholic.com.
*My friends are good enough to not just endure, but actively support my watching of bad tween movies like The Baby-Sitter's Club. A recent viewing was paired with Tostinos frozen pizzas, Doritos and queso, GirlScout Cookies and donut holes. And because we actually are adults, red wine.
Up Next, how an order from Totally Catholic might just have saved my life.
It was time to go to the psychic.
It was my mom's idea. Apparently mom advice only lasts so long, so she said to me, "You and ET#1 need to go to the psychic." Some yelp research landed us at the Tremont Tearoom. A call to make appointments rendered a chuckle; apparently business is not so great as to require appointments. So we went on a Sunday, when we could claim the $5 off discount. After stopping for breathmints and a lotto ticket, we found our way into a dark building and took the beer smelling elevator up to 3. Nag Champa and Patchouli lured us into a studio with a handful of psychics at small tables, at least one working the phone for call-ins. I paid cash upfront for our adventure and we each chose our psychic after consulting a menu of services (the combo platter of palm reading and tarot reading sounded delicious to me). Like making a birthday wish, I'm not sure one is supposed to reveal their reading but let me say that my reading was satisfying. Being a perpetual renter I am annually or biennially looking for a roommate and was assured by my pyschic that I need only wait until the end of the week, re-word and re-post my ad. She also said I should take sailing lessons.
ET#1 and I left with renewed focus and determination and wandered over to Chinatown to eat soup. My peace of mind lasted a few days, but I started getting anxious mid-week. Once again I needed help outside the earthly realm. I needed God.
I decided to place and order with totallycatholic.com.
*My friends are good enough to not just endure, but actively support my watching of bad tween movies like The Baby-Sitter's Club. A recent viewing was paired with Tostinos frozen pizzas, Doritos and queso, GirlScout Cookies and donut holes. And because we actually are adults, red wine.
Up Next, how an order from Totally Catholic might just have saved my life.
Friday, November 16, 2007
The Man of the House
Before G left, things were fine. There were no major apartment issues or other "manly" things that needed to be addressed. However a few days after his departure things went downhill and I quickly had to become the "man of the house". But upon further reflection, the "man of the house" can only be with help from a woman. Here's a few examples, with reasons why the woman really is "the man":
1. I return home from a long day at work and the house is dark. The kitties are ready to mutiny so we all head to the kitchen for food and...*blink*! The kitchen light burns out. I normally would have asked G to change the fixture since he is tall and I am short. I found the flashlight** and found the lightbulbs***. I climbed on the dining room chair, undid the fixture and replaced the lightbulb.
**The man would not have known where the flashlight was
***ditto the lightbulbs
2. The downstairs neighbors had a small mouse problem. When the exterminator came upstairs and asked if we needed any traps, I replied, "no problems here! I've got the cats!". The following weekend three rogue mice escaped upstairs and the cats tossed them around until they were dead, or nearly so. When faced with a twitching mouse at my bedroom door, I would have been tempted in the past to ask G to deal with it. But it was just me and the cats, and cats do not have opposable thumbs which to dispose of mice. So I used two shoeboxes* for two mice, and one dustpan, brush and a toilet for the other.
*Would a man have had so many extra shoeboxes laying around? I don't think so.
3. The Red Sox just won the World Series. But there was no time to relax; football season was well under way and the Pats and the Colts were both undefeated. After a call from one of my best bachelor(ette) friends (ET#1), I got into manly mode and we headed to a bar and watched the game, ordered our weight in buffalo wings (bone in) and cheap beer (dollar drafts)*.
*There's nothing here that a woman could do better, but I try to relegate myself to watch only one sport a year, so the fact that I was on to sport #2 is impressive in itself. And ET#1 and I can drink beer and eat wings with the best of them.
1. I return home from a long day at work and the house is dark. The kitties are ready to mutiny so we all head to the kitchen for food and...*blink*! The kitchen light burns out. I normally would have asked G to change the fixture since he is tall and I am short. I found the flashlight** and found the lightbulbs***. I climbed on the dining room chair, undid the fixture and replaced the lightbulb.
**The man would not have known where the flashlight was
***ditto the lightbulbs
2. The downstairs neighbors had a small mouse problem. When the exterminator came upstairs and asked if we needed any traps, I replied, "no problems here! I've got the cats!". The following weekend three rogue mice escaped upstairs and the cats tossed them around until they were dead, or nearly so. When faced with a twitching mouse at my bedroom door, I would have been tempted in the past to ask G to deal with it. But it was just me and the cats, and cats do not have opposable thumbs which to dispose of mice. So I used two shoeboxes* for two mice, and one dustpan, brush and a toilet for the other.
*Would a man have had so many extra shoeboxes laying around? I don't think so.
3. The Red Sox just won the World Series. But there was no time to relax; football season was well under way and the Pats and the Colts were both undefeated. After a call from one of my best bachelor(ette) friends (ET#1), I got into manly mode and we headed to a bar and watched the game, ordered our weight in buffalo wings (bone in) and cheap beer (dollar drafts)*.
*There's nothing here that a woman could do better, but I try to relegate myself to watch only one sport a year, so the fact that I was on to sport #2 is impressive in itself. And ET#1 and I can drink beer and eat wings with the best of them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
