Pensées de Piquantly Parisian

A Rainy Wednesday

2010-05-12T09:31:00.005-06:00

Rain crisscrosses my six foot window, determined to stick until sunshine comes and evaporates it away. The swirling clouds pass by the window as if they have joined in the hurried commute to work. Each raindrop fuels them along.

I bought black rain boots for this exact occasion, but instead of dominating puddles they lay in a box, snoring in the back of the closet. No big deal, I tell myself, it's just another pair of suede shoes I've watermarked.

Once upon a time I had an umbrella. It was my shield, my protector, my friend. It was a happy, playful thing, but continually forgot to tell me we were in the middle of a game. Alas, its last game was hide and seek in the trunk of a rental car. Oh, negligent friend that I am, I lost my long time protector. I miss its strength in the face of fierce opposition. It was unfailing until I failed it.

For now I'm safe from the rain, hidden behind this sheet of glass, but eventually it will be time to go and the rain will crisscross my hair, face, legs, and toes.

Hello Spring!

2010-04-08T19:17:00.003-06:00

I Heart Mini NYC

2010-04-01T21:00:00.006-06:00

The Sandpit from Sam O'Hare on Vimeo.

It's official. I am completely in love with this video by photographer, Sam O'Hare. It makes me look at this city in a new way and burst with joy that I get to experience it every day. I love how it makes me want to do something creative and awesome and share it with the world. Also, it makes me really excited for Spring.

Two Weeks

2010-03-22T21:52:00.005-06:00

Three and a half years ago I sat on a hallway floor with mid-morning sunlight streaming through a rain-stained window. I was mere months away from graduation, but miles away from anything resembling a post-college life plan. For all of my controlling tendencies, I had somehow forgotten to plan every aspect of my future.

I was absolutely terrified to graduate. School had been my constant companion for so long. I knew when to fight it, when to make up; I was too familiar with the buttons it could push, but I also knew how it motivated me to be better and how, like a little seed planted in my fertile mind, it pushed upward and outward until I was sprouting and flourishing. What assurance did I have I could build that kind of relationship with my career? I doubted I could, but everything inside of me said I couldn't stay.

So there I sat on a carpeted floor with the sun shining on my toes, talking to my sister about my future. I told her I had a potential opportunity for an internship in New York, but the idea of being so far away from anything familiar was too much. I also knew pursuing it would likely lead to committing the next five years to that distant city. Otherwise I would deem myself a failure, just another person who couldn't hack it in the city.

She (and others) encouraged me and just a few short months later, with incredible trepidation, I packed my bags and moved into a city where in the masses of people, I had only one acquaintance. I started my internship which developed into a job and before I knew it three years passed. See, I told myself, I can succeed in this city.

But, let's be honest, I was lying. The taste of the initial success of being hired had become flat. I had never really interviewed for a job in New York; there was no guarantee I could get hired at another agency. I was playing it safe in a city that demands change.

Determined to King Kong every fear and challenge this city could throw at me, I began taking baby steps to seduce action. I updated my resume. I met with a recruiter. I began interviewing at agencies all over the city. I got a job offer.

And today I gave my two weeks notice.

In so many ways I feel exactly like I did three and a half years ago. I might have more of a glimpse of my future, but I am still venturing off the current lit path into unknown territory and there is no way to see where it will lead. I am nervous and anxious and a little terrified. But just like then, everything inside of me says it's time for this change.

So bring it on, New York. Bring it on, Life. I refuse to let fear be my guide.

Hidden Words in Black Ink

2010-03-07T19:38:00.000-07:00

One night I was hanging out with my very creative friend, Gaby. She had just discovered this website full of newspaper blackout poetry by a guy named Austin Kleon. She was really excited to try it out. Turns out I was really excited too and promptly started doing them. All the time.

I love how I can take someone's thoughts and somehow make them mine, how I can find poetry in the midst of a hundred other words. I like how I can somehow express myself despite the limitations.

Here are three I've done.

Hope for the Future

Escapism

Some Lovers

Check out Austin's site. Then check out Gaby's blackout poems! And then you should try it out and let me see the results. :)

Facts

2010-02-15T12:57:00.002-07:00

#1. I can’t seem to stand still while I wait for the train. I walk in circles. Small ones. Big ones. Even if I pull out a book I find myself flipping pages and pacing back and forth.

#2. Six weeks later I still haven’t met one of my roommates. Sometimes we are home at the same time, but I haven’t made any effort to meet her.

#3. I have a strong desire to take a scrub brush and some serious chemicals to the walls of the dirty subway. I want to make it sparkle.

#4. I miss my friends that left New York. Every day.

#5. If I am the only one in a subway car, I am likely to sing at the top of my lungs.

#6. I can’t seem to go to bed before 1 am.

#7. I am in a state of avoidance.

#8. I crave summertime more than I crave chocolate.

#9. I am beginning to believe I am deeply fickle.

#10. I have absolutely no idea what I should be doing in my life.

Room with a View

2010-02-14T00:45:00.003-07:00

Becky's Wedding...

2010-01-17T13:35:00.006-07:00

...was incredible.

It started with the bachelorette party where we had dinner at Carraba's followed by a very cold game of mini golf where I learned just how well Becky and her sister's can trash talk.

Then came the big day, Thursday, January 7th. The sky was blue. The sun was rejoicing. I was rejoicing. I don't think Becky could have chosen a better day.

Or a better man. Just look how happy she is. Pure joy.

I found an incredible amount of entertainment watching the photographer trying to get all of Becky's family together for a picture. Believe me, it was no easy task. Becky and Karl didn't seem to mind waiting. Becky's brother, however, did seem to mind standing so close to the newlyweds. Just look at that face.

Congratulations, Becky and Karl!

Old Memories of New York

2010-01-04T13:12:00.003-07:00

One more post inspired by my sister and her family's New York visit.

***

I was about my niece’s age the first time I came to New York. Probably a year or two older. Having her here sparked some of my elusive and fleeting memories of that trip.

Mostly I remember how much New York scared me. I held on to my dad’s hand like it was the only way not to disappear into darkness while masses of people passed and pushed me this way and that. The constant concrete made this city feel like such a foreign land.

We went to two broadway shows: Beauty and the Beast and Showboat. I loved Beauty and the Beast. My parents bought me a t-shirt with the rose embroidered on it.

The ambulances seemed to never stop. The first night I lay in bed waiting for serene silence, but it never came. The sirens just continued to scream of crime and pain. Scary, unimaginable things. Foreign concepts in my world.

We bought lunch at a deli, walked into Central Park and found a little spot to eat it. I didn’t like the grass. It felt so sparse compared to my playground. But I liked the squirrels that waited at the edges for nibbles of my sandwich.

FAO Schwartz amazed me. I played with more toys than I knew existed. I must have asked my dad to buy me most of the store.

My feet hated me at the end. I distinctly remember one afternoon of endless walking. My dad kept telling me it was just a few more blocks, but the blocks just kept going and going. I was just waiting for my feet to suddenly fall off and be left with little stubble legs.

Overall the streets didn’t make me feel brand new. The bright lights did not inspire me. I was happy to go back to my little neighborhood where familiarity was my friend. On that plane ride home, I never would have guessed that I would end up here, loving it as much as I do.

Dear 2010,

2010-01-03T19:29:00.004-07:00

If I were to be honest I'd tell you I resented the ending of 2009. I wanted to wrestle it to the ground and force it into submissiveness, make it stay for a while longer. But it's hard to grab a hold of something as intangible as time. And before I knew it the forward progression of the clock quickly signaled the start of a new year.

Goodbye 2009. Adios to one of my favorite years.

2010, I'm still trying to ignore your existence. You're making me feel like Rachmaninoff when he said, "I feel like a ghost wandering in a world grown alien."

You've brought changes I didn't ask for and don't want. You signaled the desertion of all of my New York friends that made this place feel like home; they're off to bigger and better things. Then you watched as the apartment that was my haven was emptied except for some dust that stubbornly stuck in the corner.

Now I'm to spend my time in a new apartment with strangers. It's only saving grace is the privacy of my own little room that is currently cluttered with boxes. But even that hasn't stopped the tears and the meltdowns that have happened on an almost daily basis.

Please tell me, 2010, that you will redeem yourself with hidden and unexpected sweetness because right now I'll feel is the bitterness of cold loneliness.

Sincerely,
me

New York Snowfall

2009-12-20T14:28:00.003-07:00

A New York Christmas Miracle

2009-12-20T14:17:00.003-07:00

Co-written by Becky and me

One day Gaby, Becky and PiqPar were walking down the street after just coming from an amazing Anglican Christmas men and boys choir concert. As they crossed the street Gaby suddenly noticed an iPhone laying forlornly on the corner of the overcrowded 5th Avenue sidewalk. In the midst of tourists and last minute Christmas shoppers, it was amazing the iPhone hadn't been crushed or even picked up by someone.

Gaby reached down to pick up the phone, her heart deeply worried for the girl (it had a pink cover) who had lost her phone. At the same time, a man reached for the phone. He eyed Gaby as she exclaimed, "Oh no! This is going to ruin someone's Christmas! What should we do?!" The man reluctantly walked away, realizing he had missed his opportunity to acquire a free iPhone (and that the girls, though radiating goodness, could totally take him).

"What should I do?" Gaby asked again.

"Call the last number dialed," suggested PiqPar.

But alas, Gaby awakened the phone only to find it password protected. As they stood there in the freezing cold, Becky suggested, "Let's give it to that guy," pointing to the chestnut / hot dog vendor. "He'll be here if someone comes back looking for it." PiqPar and Gaby looked silently at Becky to show their disapproval. PiqPar finally chimed in, "Doesn't New York City have a lost and found?"

"Call 311," said Becky, partially redeeming herself for the earlier ill-advised comment.

PiqPar pulled out her phone and promptly called New York City's information hotline only to be greeted by an automated voice. At that moment, Becky, Gaby and PiqPar were joined by some other friends who had just left the same concert. Gaby handed the phone to one of their friends, asking what they should do while PiqPar navigated her way through the 311 routing system.

Suddenly, two teenage girls appeared and one excitedly exclaimed, "That's my phone! My mom would've killed me!"

Gaby took the phone from her friend and handed it to the girl.

"Merry Christmas," said Gaby, sharing her overflowing Christmas cheer. The girl, with tears in her eyes, warmly thanked Gaby for her kindness.

As Gaby, Becky and PiqPar walked away Gaby exclaimed, "It's a Christmas miracle!" And the three friends, joining arms disappeared into the falling snow.

The House Next Door

2009-12-14T21:27:00.003-07:00

Last week I was lucky enough to have my sister, my brother-in-law, my 9 year old niece, and my 6 year old nephew in town. One night at dinner my nephew turned to me.

“Are you in college?”

“Nope,” I said. “I already finished.”

“Then why do you live here?”

“I work here.”

“Why would you want to live so far away from your family? You’re the youngest.”

I fumbled unsuccessfully for an answer.

My niece saved me by turning to her brother and asking if he wanted to live in Utah when he grew up. My cute nephew said probably.

I had a sudden recollection of this day when I was 6 or 7. My mom was in the master bathroom, doing her hair or maybe painting her nails. I sat on the yellow and white carpet just inside their room talking about this or that. But then I got serious. I had been thinking a lot about my plan for the future.

“Mom, when I grow up I’m going to live at home and go to college at Weber. And then when I get married, I’m going to live next door!”

My mom must have tried hard to keep a smile off her face and take me seriously. I think she told me I might change my mind when I got older. I remember telling her I wouldn’t. I couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere other than in my little neighborhood, next to my parents who I loved with the perfect love only children seem to possess.

Turns out she was right. She is so wise.

Giving Thanks

2009-11-30T20:15:00.005-07:00

We were working on rewording a key strategy statement, my new supervisor and me. My supervisor asked if I liked “this word” or “that word” more. "This word," I told him. I guess by choosing “this word” I showed my true colors.

“Ah, you are all about people,” he said. “Not me, I’m all about things.”

I’ve thought about that comment for almost two years now. I like to think that, for the most part, I place a higher importance on people than I do on things. Don't get me wrong, I'm still very grateful for lots of things like airplanes, cars, mountains, delicious food, computers, cell phones, warm clothing, beds, good weather, the sun, the moon, stars, books, the Internet, a job, home.

I spent Thanksgiving time at home. This is the place I will always feel most comfortable. Most loved. Most accepted. The house is changing in small ways, but the familiarity of it remains. The atmosphere hasn’t changed. But the best part of home are the people. They are as great as I remember. Better even.

I’ve been living so far away. For three years. And it's been hard. But being away has heightened my gratitude for the constancy of home and the people that make up that home. This holiday season I'm most grateful for a wonderful family who has never stopped supporting me or making me feel special.

Watching and Waiting

2009-11-25T21:46:00.002-07:00

Grand Central is filled with rushing bodies. As I walk to the information desk, I find myself dancing. I turn, a slow spin. I contort my torso to bend this way while moving a foot that way. The audible hum of trains, ringing phones and voices act as my rhythm. The music of life. I stop. Look around. It’s the end of another day. A long weekend taunts the air, daring commuters to jump a train now and abandon the city.

It’s easy to spot the tourists from the locals. The commuters running for a train from those who call the city home. You can see it in their step, the direction of their eyes, the familiarity of the path.

A couple stops in front of me. Tourists. Their hands clasped as wonderment spreads across their eyes. The majesty of the place really is quite incredible. But they stop looking at the room and instead they’re looking at each other. Embracing. Kissing. Loving each other more than they could ever love this inanimate building. I walk a couple of steps away. I want them to have a moment with a small semblance of space.

Standing here I feel like a pebble trying to interrupt the river. People are parting and passing by me. Talking on their cell phones or to friends. I’m surrounded by strangers but as I catch little words of their conversation I wonder if we could be friends. I wonder about the most interesting conversations this building has overheard. The stories it could whisper in my ear, if only I could hear it over the roar of life.

I change directions again so I can see a different mix of people. My eyes land on your face instead. I smile.

Another Year

2009-11-16T19:33:00.004-07:00

Once upon a time, a young girl sat in a hospital room reading Little House on the Prairie to her mom. She and her dad were supposed to take her mom home today, but the doctor said the mom wasn’t ready yet. Maybe tomorrow.

As the girl read, the mom’s breathing got ragged, until she gasped a quiet call for help, insisting the husband get the doctor. Nurses rushed in. The little girl was pushed out of the room, left to stand in the hallway and watch the scene unfold.

Her mom’s lung had collapsed. She had a hole in her diaphragm. The little girl didn’t know what was going to happen or if her mom would make it.

When she got home she fell to her knees and with childish innocence asked God to make her mom better. She told God that she was too young to not have a mom. She told God she needed her mom. She begged. She cried. And in the end she knew, everything would be okay.

Slowly, but surely her mom got better until they could take her home. The girl stayed by her mom's bedside and helped as a home health nurse came and showed the girl how to take care of her mom. She was happy to help. She was happy her mom was going to be okay.

***

Today is a special day. Today is my mother's birthday.

I've been thinking all day long what words I could use to adequately explain how great my mom is or how special she is to me. I've come up with cheesy things and sincere things but none of it seems good enough.

What do you say about the most influential person in your life?
What do you say about the person gave/gives up so much for you?
What do you say about the person who has taught you what love is?
What do you say about the person you love so very, very much?

I still don't know. What I do know is that my mom is a very special woman. She is wise. She is good. She has always been there for me. She has taught me by word and example for my whole life. Everything I am, who I am, is all because of her. She is my very best friend.

I'm glad I can celebrate another year with you.

Happy birthday, Mom.

More on the Symphony

2009-11-16T18:54:00.002-07:00

I got an email on Wednesday with a great offer on tickets to the symphony. I emailed some friends and made a plan to go. It was awesome.

The conductor, Xian Zhang, almost seemed to dance as she led the music this way and then that. She swayed. She almost spun. Her short hair bounced as she jumped into the next wave of her baton. She made me feel passionate about the music. I wanted to hear her talk about her love of music and why she decided to become a conductor.

The other special treat of the evening was a performance by Garrick Ohlsson on the piano. The piece was Martinu's Incantation, Piano Concerto No. 4. He was seriously amazing. The way he played it made it sound so natural, almost as if he was up there just jamming along with a full orchestra. But I felt like he really shined in the second movement, he scaled the piano keys upward and downward, touching each one with undeniable power. I can't even imagine being able to play the piano like he does. And did I mention he had the whole thing memorized? Incredible.

Warming up. Picture by the beautiful Brook.

My favorite piece was Sibelius' Symphony No. 1 in E minor. The first movement really spoke to me. Look it up. Listen to it. Be inspired. But if you have a chance to hear it live, do it. It's better this way.

There is such a difference in live music versus a recording. I venture to say you can feel this difference so much more with the symphony than with any other kind of music. There is almost something tangible in the air as you listen to the music enfold you. It caresses you and speaks in your ear. Sometimes quietly. Other times yelling. And as it speaks, it weaves dreams into seeming reality until you feel you are somewhere else, living out someone else’s story.

Music, especially of this caliber, is truly a gift from God. The inexpressible powerful overwhelms me. I don’t know who was first inspired to make these elaborate instruments and I don’t know how anyone could be talented enough to then interweave all of them in such a way to make me feel inspired, but I am grateful someone was. I am in awe.

After the show, in front of the fountain. Picture by Brook.

Inspiration

2009-11-15T21:49:00.001-07:00

Cacophony rules but is hushed
in a sudden change of atmosphere
Silence crackles in eager anticipation
Stillness buzzes, hungry to be broken

Then, a downbeat of the moment is declared
with a decisive slice of tiny molecules
Fluid motions embrace the air
Filling it with sweet vibrations

Seeming dissonance corrects in a harmonizing
meld of overtones and undertones
Combining, dividing, diminishing, building
Crescendo and crash in tremendous brilliance

Waving dances of passion from so many
create this moment of movements
Intrinsically connected to an unknown part
Illuminating my soul in a symphony of music

3 Minutes, 25 Times

2009-11-09T13:33:00.000-07:00

I was surprisingly nervous, though I tried to play it off with extreme disinterest. Still, I could feel my heart beating at an unacceptable rate.

This doesn’t make me desperate, I kept telling myself. It doesn’t matter I freely chose to go to a single adult speed dating activity. Or that I came to this activity by myself.
It. Does. Not. Make. Me. Desperate.

We all stood at the edges of the room, nonchalantly mingling until they indicated it was time to take our seats.

I was number 79 out of a supposed 100 girls. There were supposed to be 100 boys too, but like every other activity here, the girls outnumbered the boys. I sat down in my designated seat only to look across at an empty male seat #79. It felt like fate wanted to prove to me the stupidity of being there.

But I think fate understood I was putting forth a good effort to be social and took pity on me. The male seat #80 was occupied while the female seat #80 was empty. Number 80 slid into seat across from me. I smiled. He was cute with curly hair and an easy smile.

It turns out speed dating can be fun.

Three minutes with about 25 guys. Most of the questions were standard stuff like “how long have you been in New York?” “what do you do here in New York?” “where are you from?” blah, blah, blah.

But then there were those questions that totally left me stumbling like an idiot.
“What’s the one thing you’ve wanted to talk about tonight, but haven’t?”
“If you were to get a tattoo tonight, what would it be and where would it be?”
“What’s the best thing about you?”

One week to see if any of the boys liked my answers. My looks.

I’m not holding my breath.

Two Things I'm Thinking About

2009-11-08T18:41:00.003-07:00

"When each day is the same as the next it's because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises."
-Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist, pg 27

"It's not love to be static like the desert, nor is it love to roam the world like the wind. And it's not love to see everything from a distance, like you do. Love is the force that transforms and improves the Soul of the World...It is we who nourish the Soul of the World, and the world we live in will be either better or worse, depending on whether we become better or worse. And that's where the power of love comes in. Because when we love, we always strive to become better than we are."
-Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist, pg 150-151

New York City Walk #2

2009-11-06T07:40:00.000-07:00

On a hidden bench, I take out my iPod and let my senses embrace the moment.

The temperature couldn't be more perfect. No jacket required. No fan either. It's humid though. Rain drops seem to be condensing in midair instead of falling from the fast moving gray clouds.

The sounds of the city - cars, helicopters, people - melt to a hum. The birds singing beautiful fall songs dominant this part of Central Park. They sit somewhere in the trees with the squirrels. Maybe they're friends. Maybe the squirrels make song requests. It's hard to say because there are just enough leaves to hide all of the action.

A slow moving breeze echos through the leaves, providing a solemn bass line to the birds' song. The leaves dance this way than that until they spring free from the branch, gracefully pirouetting a path to the ground.

The ground is already littered with multicolored leaves. Most are wet from the morning rain. The changing colors add texture to this moment. My eyes can't help but dart from the green to the yellow to the red to the brown. The circle of the seasons. Of life. Some day, my life.

Bedtime

2009-11-04T21:18:00.000-07:00

crisp silence
broken stillness
muffled snores
gentle slumber
sense of solitude
exhaled exhaustion
thoughts pervade
self inspection
nightlight windows
closed eyes
never alone

Tegan & Sara Concert

2009-11-01T18:46:00.004-07:00

I found out a little too late that Tegan & Sara were coming to New York. Despite them having two shows, both were sold out when I searched for tickets a month ago. But on Friday I decided I had to go, so I searched Craigslist for people selling an extra ticket. Luckily, I found someone who had an extra ticket for Saturday's show. We decided I would pick up the ticket in front of the venue at 8 pm.

While I was waiting for the girl to show up, another girl asked if anyone wanted a ticket to the show. For free. I jumped on that one fast. I love being at the right place at the right time. I also love kind people who give me free tickets. She seriously made my week. Maybe my month.

I continued to wait for the Craigslist girl to let her know I wasn't going to buy her ticket and suddenly found myself talking to a guy dressed up like Waldo (it is Halloween after all). The conversation went something like this...

Waldo: Have you been inside yet?
Me: Nope
Waldo: Do you think they'll frisk us?
Me: Uh, I don't know, but I don't think so.
Waldo: I ask because I have a flask. Do you think I should hide it in my crotch?
Me: Blank expression that probably looks a lot like stupidity.

Anyway, I finally went in, found my seat and tried to wait patiently for Tegan & Sara to go on.

It was worth the wait.

They played an awesome mix of all their new songs and a lot of their old songs. They bantered with the crowd. Made fun of each other. They sound absolutely amazing live and they seriously know how to rock. I can't wait for them to come back to New York. In the meantime I'm playing their new album on repeat.

Some of my favorite lines from the night...
"This song is for anyone who has been born."
In response to someone in the crowd asking Tegan to marry him, "Now you want marriage?? What happened to love?"
In response to someone in the front row asking Tegan to shake her hand, "Do I think I'll shake your hand? Have you heard of H1N1?!"
Then there was a long dialogue about how Sara has asthma and needs Tegan to do most of the talking. It was funny. You'll just have to take my word for it.

A Different Perspective

2009-11-01T17:41:00.001-07:00

I love the seeming paradox of this picture. Here is this pagan symbol standing huge, strong in front of a towering cathedral. Atlas versus God. Worldly versus spiritual.

And yet, I can't help but see this picture in a different context. In my other story, I see a man struggling to stand with an overwhelming burden and walk toward the church, his only salvation.

We all carry burdens, but we don't have to carry them alone. God has promised if we come to Him, He will make our burdens light (Matthew 11:28-30). I know this is true. I've seen God's hand in my life, uplifting me in times of need and guiding me towards the correct path. My burden still exists, but it feels suddenly bearable. That's the power of God. And maybe it's just me, but I prefer to have God's power in my life rather than hopelessly trying to do it alone like Atlas.

New York City Walk #1

2009-10-27T18:16:00.000-06:00

Intro: I'm starting a series about my wanderings around New York City. Let me know if you have any areas you want me to explore. :)

The Walk:

The bottom part of my pants, on the inseam, are just long enough to touch the ground as I slowly walk through the city. They kiss the puddles, sucking the liquid up into the fabric until I realize I'm wet up to my calves. My hair is a riled mess of raindrops and frizz, but I don't mind. I'm exploring, touring.

I've walked this part of town hundreds of times before. Maybe it's a cop out to do my first purposeful city walk here, but the day is dreary and I crave the familiar. Anyway, there is always something to discover, people to observe.

I start out on 48th and 6th, heading east. I'm waiting for something to speak to me. Inspiration. Instead I find the Nintendo Store. Of course I go in, but this just makes me sad. You really shouldn't play the Wii by yourself, not when you have so many happy memories of playing with friends.

Back on the street, I walk to the famed 5th Avenue. In this part of town, 5th Avenue exudes elite upper classness. Somehow the dominant black umbrellas and the coming darkness only heighten the feeling. The presence of Saks helps too.

I get up to the famed St Patrick's Cathedral. I've only been inside once, two and a half years ago on Good Friday. It was madness. I duck out of the rain and into the church with a bundle of others. The seats are filling up; mass is about to start. I find a seat on the side. I won't stay for the whole thing. I have a lot to see and I don't want to miss the remaining daylight.

I like cathedrals. Maybe not for attending church (it's so hard to hear!), but I like their symmetry, the clean lines, the dedication required to erect it. I can't stay still, looking to the left, right, then up at the ceiling. The detail is exquisite.

I walk all around the outside of St Patrick's Cathedral. The Madison/51st Street sides are my favorite. It's quiet. Peaceful. Beautiful. This building feels almost out of place among these corporate skyscrapers. Yet, to me that makes it more needed - a balance between church and state, so to speak.

I cross the street over to Rockefeller Center. I like this place, despite the fact it feels predictably touristic. It has a charm that draws me in despite all the ritz. It's here I see two people ice skating despite the 60 degree weather and the visible layer of rainwater on the ice.

As I turn to begin my walk home, a woman walks in front of me. She is older, although she's trying to hide it with the the obvious botox and frosting of makeup. Realizing where she is, she turns around to her two friends behind her to exclaim that they found Rockefeller Center. It's then I realize the handsome young man that is walking behind her, but in front of her friends. He is holding an umbrella, but not over his stylish hat. His arm is extended over this wealthy woman, protecting her from the rain. As I make a path around them, I hear the man's soft laugh. I smirk and continue walking home.

I love this city.

Afternoon Tea

2009-10-25T16:28:00.003-06:00

A flame ignites, licking into life
the temperature builds
sucking the oxygen out of the air
Boiling

Whistling
Blackness is added
becoming indistinctively one
Bitter flavor imbued

My discontent is brewed to perfection

New York to Florida

2009-10-24T19:21:00.003-06:00

This time last week I was sitting in the front seat of a minivan crossing the border from Georgia into Florida. We had set out the day before, in a car packed tight with May's stuff. See, my wonderful friend, May, after much thought decided it was time for her to say goodbye to the city for a while. She told me back in August that she would be departing for Florida on October 16th, but at the time I really didn't think October would come so fast.

Friday morning was cold and rainy, as if it could sense the turmoil going on inside me. After some time packing and repacking the car, we were off. Zooming past the changing leaves without really acknowledging the change that was happening for each of us.

By the time we hit Delaware, we were all starving. We stopped at a shopping mall food court. As seasoned New Yorkers, we enjoyed the taste of suburbia and ended up eating at both Arby's and Dairy Queen.

We got back in the car and proceeded to get stuck in Maryland / DC / Virginia traffic for the next forever. We got in to Charlotte around midnight. May and Becky have a friend that was nice enough to let us spend the night. She even gave us her room so her cat wouldn't kill us during the night. We were all grateful. Especially Becky.

After breakfast we set off in the direction we thought was Myrtle Beach, but accidentally drove the loop around Charlotte for longer than any of us would like to admit. So let's just move on...

We ended up opting out of the Myrtle Beach stop (it was a little out of the way) so we just stopped at a Sonic in South Carolina instead.

Aww... Don't they just look like best friends?

For our Georgia stop, we decided to see Savannah. I really liked Savannah; it's got a nice atmosphere, but it was a little too crowded and cold so we didn't stay for too long.

I almost missed the Georgia sign. At least you can see "Georgia."

I made May slow down for the Florida border. I was determined to have one state sign.

Highlights of Florida:
1. Seeing May's old stomping grounds
2. Meeting May's mom and brother (both awesome)
3. Having May's mom pat me on the stomach when I went to give her a hug (keep in mind May's mom is about 4'10")
4. Having May's mom apologize for patting me on the stomach the next day
5. Meeting some of May's old friends
6. Hearing of all the crazy things May did as a kid
7. Defending my wrestling pride by almost taking May down

Lowlights of Florida:
1. Saying goodbye to May
2. Almost getting taken down by May (she's stronger than she looks, people)
3. Drinking really gross orange juice at the Florida Welcome Center
4. Almost getting left at a gas station
5. Almost missing my flight back to New York
6. Being cold the whole time (isn't Florida supposed to be nice?!)
7. Saying goodbye to May (seriously not fun)

Obviously I like May a little. She is a seriously amazing person. We were friends for a while, but over the past couple of months she has become one of my very favorite people ever. She's listened to me, encouraged me, inspired me, loved me. She's made me laugh, helped me discover the city and showed me what being a true friend is all about. I'm so grateful for her and all of the awesome memories we've made together.

Obviously I'm missing May a lot.

Mechanical Violet

2009-10-24T11:04:00.006-06:00

Two of my friends here in New York are incredibly talented musicians. One has a degree in music and the other has played the clarinet for years, increasing her skills as the years have passed. Their love of music is contagious. Seriously, it's impossible to hang out with them and not want to break into song or start playing an instrument.

I'm sure it's partially their fault I suddenly and rather randomly decided to buy a ukulele earlier this year. I had played the ukulele in third grade and for years afterward my grandma's ukulele sat in my closet unsuspecting. Occasionally I would take it out of its box and pretend like I remembered a chord. Mostly it went untouched. Last year I came across that old uke again when I was trying to organize all of the stuff I left in my room at home. I wished I could play it. So maybe the recent purchase wasn't that random.

Anyway, with one friend being awesome on the trumpet and another having mad clarinet skills and my newly acquired ukulele, it isn't surprising we started having thoughts about forming a little band. We recruited another friend to play miscellaneous percussion so someone could help us (read: me) keep some sort of beat. And we needed her amazing vocal skills too.

At the beginning of May we began discussing band names (check out May's band log) and songs we could/should cover. We even practiced once or twice and decided our first gig would be for an upcoming birthday party.

But then summer happened. And it seemed like someone was always out of town. And getting all of the instruments in one placed became more difficult than Atlas holding up the world. We didn't practice. We didn't perform at the party. There was talk of the band breaking up.

But somehow it held on. At least, for a night.

Two weeks ago we decided we needed to at least record the one song we had originally started practicing. It was now or never after all; everyone is leaving.

A trumpet, a clarinet, a ukulele and a tambourine. Who would've guessed?

I don't think we sound half bad, but more than that, this will forever be one of my favorite memories here. Three of the most amazing people in a room, laughing, being friends, making music. I doubt it can get much better than this.

Let me know what you think of our cover of Postcards from Italy (originally by Beirut).

"My Secret Friend"

2009-10-14T21:33:00.002-06:00

This music video speaks to me on many levels. What do you think? Awesome or creepy?

Apple Dumplings

2009-10-07T21:58:00.001-06:00

Without fail, once October strikes I start craving my mom's apple dumplings. It's as if my bones, my blood even, takes notice of the changing temperatures and triggers an inner need to eat this gooey goodness.

Since I'm not lucky enough to enjoy my mom's, I was left to make my own.

I started by slicing three huge apples. Unfortunately, three huge apples were too much for the small amount of dough I had. I was left with all of these slices of apples and nothing to do but eat them. It was tough work.

Despite the extra apple slices fiasco, the apple dumplings turned out quite well.

Here are some quotes from my tasters:
"Everything you touch turns into a sugar wonderland in my mouth."
"It's like summer melting away."
"I'm not sure why you're not the engaged one here."
"The crust is so good."
"Flaky and amazing"
"You are my dough rae me."
"It's very fally and pasteryee."
"I've never had hallucinations like this before."
"It's like the apple got exalted."
"Hmmmm"

I guess they were a success.

Flooded

2009-10-05T21:16:00.000-06:00

Cranes crash into heart-shaped buildings
Tears fall out shattering windows
only to be caught
and conformed into a new home
The once familiar evaporates into something foreign
Everything changes with such voracious thirst
Here in this liquid city

Happiness Settles in Clouds of Gray

2009-10-02T23:32:00.001-06:00

Concerts As of Late

2009-09-30T22:00:00.001-06:00

Sondre Lerche

(Picture by Mark)
My friend had an extra ticket to Sondre's show and invited me along. I don't know much of his stuff but I had a great time. The crowd wasn't too overwhelming and everyone was so excited to hear the music. I got excited too.

My favorite Sondreism from the night: Stopping in the middle of a song to re-tune his guitar.

Greg Holden

Greg opened for Ingrid. He was really great. I wanted to smack all of the people that were talking through his set. He has an amazing voice and get-stuck-in-my-head melodies.
Check out his new EP about New York.

My favorite Greg Holdenism from the night: Anything. His British accent makes me swoon.

Ingrid Michaelson

Ingrid was totally rocking and really funny. I went with some of the best girls ever, girls that I introduced to Ingrid. We had a blast and I love that Greg Laswell came out for a little duet.

My favorite Ingridism from the night: "This is going to be cuter than a kitten in a hightop."
Greg Laswell

Greg.... Oh Greg... No words will suffice. Just go listen to him. Discover him. Listen to his music 24/7. As my friend May says, "He's got this voice. That is all."

My favorite Gregism from the night: "Hi Buddy..."
Ok so maybe you just had to be there for that one.

Back to My (Baking) Roots

2009-09-27T19:55:00.000-06:00

Once upon a time I was a master chef with my own restaurant. When business was slow I would go in search of customers, recruiting my parents, siblings, friends, and when those failed, I turned to my constant companions - dolls and teddy bears. I would make them sit on mini yellow seats that sat on bright green carpet and order something from my kitchen. I had all of the goods: plates, glasses, utensils, and a plethora of plastic food. Nothing made me happier than "preparing" food for them. At the time I'm sure my mom thought I would become a great cook.

Her belief changed over the last twenty years. I became terrified of the kitchen and avoided it at all costs. Anytime my mom suggested I help her in the kitchen, because "one day I would be a wife," I found ways to dodge and escape that dreaded place.

My mom might have held hope for my move to college. And for a while, she was right; survival instincts pushed me into the kitchen and forced me to boil water, turn on the stove and use my George Foreman. But unfortunately (or fortunately) I quickly retreated into the world of cereal, Ramen and microwavable meals.

Until recently.

I moved into a new place with a slightly bigger kitchen and was overtaken with the undeniable urge to bake all of the time. I have become possessed! I started with chocolate cookies (no picture) and have since made banana bread...

...and peach pie (with my own crust)...

Maybe this recent baking rampage will renew my mother's belief that I will one day be able to cook, or in this case, bake.

The Fundamental Problem

2009-09-20T19:36:00.004-06:00

I have thousands of strains of this virus
coursing through my veins
racing from my fingers to my toes
circling my brain
rushing my heart
intertwining into my DNA
crippling me for an eternity

Don't Leave Me This Way

2009-09-14T23:03:00.000-06:00

There is something a little bit overwhelming about the first full week of work after Labor Day. The dread of knowing you have three months of work with no break, and feeling your summer quickly coursing its way into subconscious memories.

I don't want to give up my summer to fleeting memories. I need to stop time and wander from May to September, touching events, savoring moments. This summer had serious waves of perfection. I was happy.

Just last week I was in Massachusetts. In a tent. Daddy-long-legs infested the world around me - climbing up and over the tent, on the table, into our pathetic wet-wood fire. But in the tent, I was safe, warm and comfortable on the twin-size air mattress I had blown up with solely my own hot air. I had Friday and Monday off for Labor day so me and a friend (the one who I look up to far more than she will ever know; the one who advises and inspires me) decided to take a little trip up to Cape Cod (and Providence and Plymouth and Boston). We explored old graveyards. We rode bikes and saw wildlife. And lighthouses. And sea green water. We sang in the car and in the open. We shared little bits of ourselves.

And that was only last weekend. I haven't even talked about the friends who have visited or the time I had more fun at the beach than I thought was possible (imagine trying to unsuccessfully launch a small friend in the ocean). Or the road trip to Palmyra and Niagara Falls. Or accidentally seeing Rachel Ray at the Living Room. Or Elijah Wood in a Duane Reade. Or Broadway, live music, spontaneous dance parties and guitar hero. Sunday dinners. Walks in the park. Making a movie. Eating out. Going to Utah twice. Greece.

Oh Summer, you make me fall in love with you again and again. But now Fall is stroking the leaves and I've started to crave light jackets. Fall is determined to push me out of my circle of safety and make me face a new reality. Even if it promises to be a lonely one. Summer, I'd rather cling to you, but since I can't, I'll just say I will miss you. I promise to visit you often, even if it is just in fleeting memories.

Alphabet Writing

2009-09-03T21:50:00.002-06:00

Apathetic
Beasts
Corner
Dying
Emotions.
Focusing
Guns
Hunt
Individuality,
Judge
Knowledge.
Leering
Monsters
Need
Overwhelming
Power-
Quieting
Reason.
Solitude
Takes
Unrequited
Vows,
Wishing
Xanadu,
Yearning
Zealously.

"Everybody, Everybody Wants to Be Loved"

2009-08-30T21:01:00.000-06:00

I've been listening to Ingrid Michaelson's new album, "Everybody" almost non-stop since it was released on Tuesday. The rhythms make time with my pulse and the words whirl around in my head and chest, building pressure and cultivating a desire for love.

Love is life. Life is love. What could be more appropriate to sing about again and again and again? Aren't we all enlisted in a desperate search for love - both to give it and to receive it - at some point in our lives? We suffer at the hands of lost love and we cry holding back the love that is waiting to burst out of us. We have an innate desire to be loved and to find the wholeness that comes from love.

Love controls us, just as lack of love can overcome us. Love is the ultimate master. In theory it is always kind and generous, but in searching for and trying to serve it we are beaten and frayed, left with angry red welts and torn blood drops. And yet, we take the pain and we continue the search. That is how strong it pulls us, nags us.

I'm on my own great search for love. High. Low. Far. Wide. I've been searching everywhere. And I have scars and holes to show for it - issues and insecurities in a sometimes overwhelming amount. But I keep looking. I have to keep looking. Hoping. I look for someone who sees something great in me and who I can embrace in my tender love.

I wonder if any of us ever really stop striving to find (more) love in our lives or at least find better ways to develop and express our love.

So Ingrid, don't worry about using love too much in your songs because, after all, love creates fireworks. Love makes the world go around. Love is salvation. All I need is love.

Farewell East Village

2009-08-28T18:30:00.003-06:00

I wasn't interested in you on that first cool April day
Out of the subway I was instantly lost like a novice tourist
And the first scale up the six floors...
I vehemently swore to never do it again

But I did.

My love ebbed and flowed
in fickle washes of reds and blacks
but you pulled me in tight
I couldn't fight your charm
so I tried to fit all of you in my heart-
an impossible task

28 months of exploring and memories
Quiet Sunday mornings
and late night walks home - 1 am, 2 am, 3 am, 4 am
You introduced me to the pulse of New York
People all around without the chaos of Times Square
Speaking of squares I love yours

I'm going to miss you despite frequent visits
you and I will never be this close again
I can't sigh into the dark night and expect you to hear
to understand
to let me taste your comfort
You became my home

Days, months and years will pass
You'll quickly forget I touched your ground
but I'll continue to remember you
Your wafting smells and vistas
Your character
Your energy

Cliche as it is, I take a small bit of you with me
After all, I opened up your door and peeked into your soul
and in the process, I discovered a part of mine
Thank you, my dear friend, for everything.

Last Night I Paused But Not Really

2009-08-19T12:50:00.000-06:00

The subway was sweltering. As I waited for the train, I cursed myself for choosing to wear jeans on one of the hottest summer days. Luckily, the train soon appeared, creating a welcome breeze.

The doors opened and I entered and sat down on the first available seat. It had been a long day and my life was changing without any request from me. Lost in fatigue and sadness I almost missed the message that the train was running express despite its location on the local tracks. I didn't mind. The express stop is further from my apartment, but I was grateful for the longer walk - the East Village enthralls me.

The train arrived at my destination; it was sweltering in this station too. I walked steadily for the cool night air. I needed to escape the prison of sweaty summer heat. As I exited the turnstiles, a man entered my view. He was middle-aged, wearing jeans and a short-sleeved, white button-up shirt. His hair was frizzed in resolute disarray.

"Do you have a swipe?" He asked so softly, it seemed to take minutes before the sound reached me.

I tried to size him up prior to swiping him in - he could be a thief - but before I knew it, my bag was opening and my fingers were slithering into its depths to find my unlimited Metrocard. I pulled it out, turned toward the turnstile and held on tight to my bag with my free hand.

I swiped my card like I've done thousands of times before. Fast. Steady. The turnstile sounded and the man walked through without a backward glance. The whole interaction lasted for a brief minute and I didn't say a single word to him. I didn't even smile.

Who is he? What is his story? Where was he going? What happened or did not happen because he rode the subway?

Why didn't I say hello?

Haikus Inspired by a Someone

2009-08-11T21:52:00.000-06:00

Fire light shines through
Rain trickles down the thatched roof
My eyes miss it all

***

The wind cries your name
so I search the tree tops and
petals of promise

***

Waiting and dreaming
Spring, summer, fall and winter
Another year goes

The Attack of the Mosquitos

2009-08-03T13:08:00.000-06:00

For a while, before the weather got too warm, my roommate would leave the window in our room open so we wouldn't pass out from the heat of living on the 6th floor. I liked the breeze, but found we constantly had insects living in our room. I would wake up during the middle of the night to buzzing in my ear. Annoyed I would try to hide under the sheets like it was a bomb shelter, but I would quickly become claustrophobic. I then tried to plug my ears and pray for sleep.

One particularly bad night, I woke up in the morning and felt like I had a huge weight on my eyelid. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't open it. I stumbled down my ladder and grabbed the mirror. It wasn't a pretty sight. These pictures come after I had taken some medication and had been icing it for awhile.

It happened again a few weeks later. I took some Benadryl and suffered through a sleepy day at work. A few weeks later, I received an email from my boss saying her eyelid was swollen shut. Odd. Very odd.

I'm beginning to believe the insects have planned an attack against New York City.

Dear Delta Airlines

2009-08-02T01:34:00.001-06:00

I just wanted to let you know I'm not impressed with how the merger between you and Northwest is going. I bought a ticket on Delta.com several weeks ago so I could attend my family vacation in Utah. I prefer flying direct, but given the outrageous price hikes, I found a JFK to Detroit to SLC flight that would suffice. I didn't know until after I bought my ticket that these flights were operated by Northwest. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. I was mistaken.

Due to weather, my flight to Detroit was canceled. (In the future, could you please notify me when my flight gets canceled? You have no idea the stress I felt when I couldn't check in and no one was helping me.) The Northwest agent told me I had automatically been rebooked on the 7:30 Delta flight that would fly non-stop to SLC. I was happy, but frustrated that she couldn't check me in. I had to go to a different terminal to get my ticket.

When I got to the other terminal, the kiosk wouldn't let me check in. I waited in line for an hour to talk to an agent who informed me I wasn't actually booked on the 7:30 flight. Seems the Northwest agent's information was not the same as the Delta agent.

It took almost another hour to get me booked on the 7:30 flight and get my ticket to print. I really appreciate the patience of Marsha, the agent, and I appreciate the first class ticket I ended up with because it was the last seat on the plane, but I have to be honest. I think things between Northwest and Delta are a mess. And I felt that mess for 3 very long hours.

Delta, please get your act together and fix the obvious disconnect. And please, let me know next time you cancel a flight.

Sincerely,
A Frustrated Customer

I'm a Happy Citizen of Planet Earth

2009-07-21T21:48:00.013-06:00

I've seen some amazing things lately. First there was Greece. Not so much Athens, but the island of Santorini. Its formation, its color, is all a result of eruption after volcanic eruption (and maybe some earthquakes too). Black, red and white beaches contrast against the blue water. The land is beautiful.

Then I went hiking in the Utah Uintas. I climbed up the top of one of the mountains (11,000 feet above sea level) and I looked around. Clear mountain lakes dotted the ground. I could even see snow on an adjacent hill. Big pine trees towered over me. The air was so fresh (and thin); I could smell the dirt. And I loved it. I had forgotten how much I miss the mountains.

Last weekend I ventured into Canada to see the splendor of Niagara Falls. They are truly incredible. I took a boat around the different falls so I could get up close and personal with them. I wanted to really see them from the bottom. But it's really difficult to see anything when you are getting bombarded with mist. I could hardly open my eyes to even see the majesty of it. But the individual water droplets that jumped around me stood as a testimony of the raw, dangerous beauty of nature.
Picture by May

During all three of these experiences I wondered what it would be like to live hundreds of years ago and stumble upon these undiscovered vistas. What would my reaction be? Considering how many amazingly beautiful places there are in the world, awe was probably a constant feeling for explorers.

Speaking of explorers, with the 40th anniversary of Apollo 11 this week I've been thinking about space and the way is always seems to beckon to me. Yet, this week, my feelings were different. I felt more grateful for the beauty and variety of Earth. I felt homesick at the thought of being off my planet. I loved life here and valued it more than I had in the past.

Turns out I'm not alone in my feelings. Just read some of these quotes from NASA astronauts.

"We came all this way to explore the moon, and the most important thing is that we discovered the earth." -William Anders (Part of Apollo 8)

The moon "is a very desolate place. It's just boring. It's all one color that varies depending on the sun angle. But the sky is black. It's all black except the one object there, the Earth, and the object behind us, the sun." -Buzz Aldrin (Part of Apollo 11, 2nd man to walk on the moon)

"As we got further and further away, it [the Earth] diminished in size. Finally it shrank to the size of a marble, the most beautiful you can imagine. That beautiful, warm, living object looked so fragile, so delicate, that if you touched it with a finger it would crumble and fall apart. Seeing this has to change a man." -James B. Irwin (Part of Apollo 15, walked on the moon)

Even though I don't get to discover things for mankind, I get to discover wonderful places for myself. And as I do, I know I'll be awed again and again, just as I've been over the last couple of months. I'm excited. Especially to check out some of these places.

Merchant of Venice

2009-07-13T20:37:00.007-06:00

A couple of weeks ago I traveled up to Inwood to see a production of Merchant of Venice. It was a cool June night and I wrapped my jacket tightly around me and sat on a plastic sack so that my jeans wouldn't turn dirty green. The light slowly faded over the horizon, but I didn't notice. I was intent on the scene in front of me. Debts and conquests and prejudice and love and justice and mercy. Themes written so beautifully in iambic pentameter flowed in and through my heart.

I studied this play in college. At the time I found the themes interesting in passing, but I liked the comedies with their twist and turns of delayed love so much more. I was a love sick youth so how could you expect anything else? I haven't grown up much since then, but the play touched me more that night than in the past.

One of my favorite parts happens towards the end when the leading lady gives this speech about mercy:

The quality of mercy is not strained,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.
The Merchant of Venice, 4. 1

The balance between justice and mercy is a fine one. We pray for mercy. We ask for forgiveness and hope that God and the world will treat us kindly. And yet, how quick we demand justice be done when we, or those we love, have been wronged. We scream for blood. We sue. In this generation a sense of entitlement seems to eradicate mercy daily.

Today I pray for mercy, even though I often demand justice. I know this makes me a hypocrite, but I can't help but find myself on my knees begging for mercy, especially since this circumstance isn't a fault of stupidity or misplaced trust. It's just life slapping me in the face. Doesn't the unfairness of life somehow entitle me to mercy? There's that word again. Entitlement. I guess I still have a lot to learn.

All I ask is for merciful consideration from a loving God above and from those around me. In return, I promise to learn from my prayer and try to give mercy more freely.

One More From the Birthplace of Democracy

2009-06-25T15:23:00.000-06:00

I would feel remiss if I didn't post any pictures of Grecian ruins. They were a large part of the trip after all. And so much of my prior knowledge focused around ancient Greece: Gods, writers, stories. So many hours spent studying and memorizing ancient Greek information in school. It's only natural that these places got me excited.

So here are just a few pictures and maybe a few words I started writing while on a bus from Delphi to Athens. Rough, but posted anyway.

Broken stones from ancient worlds litter the ground
like forgotten chess pieces-
The game, started so long ago
seems so far from finished
Now they just lay on a mountainside
lost and lonely for Gods and glory

Lessons from Greece

2009-06-16T10:13:00.001-06:00

by Eleece and me

1. Topless beaches do exist and if you're not careful you'll end up with scandalous pictures

This lady on the far left wasn't wearing a top. About two seconds after I took this picture she stood up. Thank goodness I didn't end up with picture of that! I'm pretty sure my face as I realized what I had almost captured was priceless.

2. Squat toilets exist

Waiting for the bus in Delphi we discovered this special bathroom. The best part, you had to pay to use it. (Picture by Eleece)

3. Lenny Kravitz is Greek and likes curly blonds

This guy told us to call him Lenny Kravitz because of his hair. He flirted outrageously with Eleece and was able to get us to eat in his slightly expensive restaurant. It's ok. The view was totally worth it. (Picture by Cortne)

4. Dogs and cats are communal pets rather than owned by individuals

Dogs dominated Athens. We had one dog that followed us down the street and then sat for several minutes outside the business we had gone into. Eleece accused me of feeding it.
Cats were all over Hydra (an island in the Saronic Gulf). They were tattered and sick. It made me sad.

5. Beds are hard

I don't think any of us slept well in Athens. My bed felt more like I was sleeping on the floor than on a bed.

6. Nap time is between 6-8 pm. If you go out to eat during that time you will be the only one in the restaurant

Seriously. Empty. This happened to us a couple of times. Then one night we got food at 11 pm and the restaurant was packed. Also, meals took about an hour and half. Not because we had so much food to eat, but because we couldn't get the check faster than that.

7. Sunsets are breathtaking

Athens, Hydra, Santorini

8. Sunrises are pretty good too

9. Sidewalks are for scooters - We learned quickly that we could easily get run over by scooter that used the sidewalks as roads.

10. Lines don't exist for Greeks-only for tourists

11. When it comes to bus seats, chivalry is dead - We took the bus Sunday afternoon to get to the port where we picked up a ferry to Santorini. At first the bus wasn't too crowded so we were taking a couple of extra seats, but as soon as the seats started getting scarce, the Greek men made sure we were holding our large suitcases on our laps so they could sit.

12. Toilet paper goes in the garbage can, not the toilet (even if they aren't squat toilets) - I love America.

13. Some dance moves will result in dogs biting your leg - Our second night we took a cable car up to see the sunset over Athens. While we waited the sun to go down, I asked Eleece to do a little dance for me. Obliging me, she began hoping from one foot to the next when suddenly a dog came up behind her and put her leg between his teeth. Eleece freaked out and I, being a caring friend, laughed uncontrollably.

Music is my Hometown

2009-06-13T19:19:00.005-06:00

Yesterday morning was rainy; gray hues dominated every view. All I wanted was to see the opening of SummerStage in Central Park, but that required the skies to stop bathing us. I began to do anti-rain dances in my cube and asked the sun to come out. To give us some summer love. To allow outdoor music to live and thrive.

Not to brag, but it worked.

The sky cleared and the sun shined. A group of friendly faces found a place on the fake grass in front of the stage. We emptied our bags of spoils and feasted. We talked and laughed and shared stories before being entertained and serenaded by Josh Ritter and the New York Pops. It was a great concert with surprises like Hilary Hahn coming to play the violin and a special poetry reading with the Pops playing in the background. The sun set and the music played on. It was perfect. My New York, for a moment, was perfect.

Note: The video is really long (3 minutes). No need to watch all of it. Just thought I'd give you a little taste of Josh and Hilary playing together.

Even Smoldering Ash Can Suffocate You

2009-06-12T13:10:00.001-06:00

I'm burned out. I know I just got back from vacation, but it's true. I can feel it. The ash is coating my lungs. I can hardly breathe. My thoughts are keeping pace with buzzing hummingbirds, but I can't focus. Nothing makes sense. My thoughts. My actions. My feelings. My red heart is painted black and it's shrinking and shriveling with every thump.

I wish I could just blame it on work, but it feels deeper. A deep muddy rut has captured my feet and my usual tricks to break free aren't working. All this time being stuck breeds forbidden thoughts.

Passionless Ophelia. That's who I'm becoming. A stranger in the mirror. A pale zombie with a smile plastered on. Don't scare the neighbors. Don't scare the kids. Normal is the watchword.

Sugar Daddy

2009-06-05T07:21:00.001-06:00

I went over to my friend's apartment last night. As I waited for the elevator, I had this little experience...

There's a man talking on the phone behind me. For the most part, I've tuned out his conversation, but I suddenly hear him say, "Look, just let me be your sugar daddy and don't worry about money. You are a beautiful, young woman and I don't want you get taken advantage of..."

"I want a sugar daddy," says the man standing next to me. He's holding a Softsoap box full of something other than soap.
"Yeah, me too!" I say in response.
The elevator arrives and I get on. I look at him to see if he's going to follow, but he continues to stand in the lobby. I hit the button for the floor I'm going to.
"I'll be your sugar daddy..."
I'm confused, wondering if I really just heard him say that. I peek out at him from the still open elevator.
"You want me to be?" he asks me.
My brain is working a hundred miles an hour, but I can't seem to find a fitting reply. And yet from somewhere inside me, unbidden, comes a response.

"I like sugar daddies."

The doors close, shutting me off from this man with the box, the man that could have been my sugar daddy.

The Hamptons

2009-06-03T19:37:00.003-06:00

A couple of days before I left for Greece, some friends and I decided to rent a car and explore the Hamptons (the place where the rich frolic and relax in the summer). The day wasn't too summery, but we still had a blast. We found a little driving tour online that took us through several towns. The problem, however, was that it didn't really tell us places to stop. We took matters into our own hands and using Becky's awesome IPhone, we found this pretty beach.

Becky was also able to direct us to this "nature walk." It was the shortest nature walk I've ever been on, but it was still fun and full of nature.

The driving tour mentioned something about a wishing well in one of the towns, but all we were able to find was a fountain. I'm no going to lie. I was disappointed, but I made the best of it by tossing in pennies and taking some pictures.

Other fun things that aren't documented here by pictures: the random carnival we stopped at and went on most of the rides; meals at IHop, Panera, and The Cheesecake Factory; singing in the car; enjoying friends, etc...

I might not see celebrities but that doesn't mean New York has nothing to offer.

2009-05-18T23:17:00.004-06:00

No real time to write anything profound, but I wanted to share some of the things I've been doing lately. More pictures to come when I get back from Greece!!

I went hiking in the Hudson Valley and found some ruins. Of course I had to wander around them and make up stories in my head.

The Hudson Valley is so beautiful. However, I went before things started to turn green so it doesn't look as pretty as it really is. Don't worry. I'll be back this summer so more pictures will come.

Last week I hung out in Central Park. I loved seeing the diversity of people and the activity. Summer in the city is great. Life is pulsing and infectious. Sometimes, maybe even most times, I love this city.

A Stopper to Salvage my Seeping Soul

2009-05-11T16:24:00.008-06:00

Break this yellow pencil.
Stop the pointless dribble of self-expression.
Why try when I already know the result?
Pitiful words and cliche imagery won't change the moment.

Inferno

2009-04-22T14:37:00.000-06:00

Shadows here don't chase the waning sun; the sun's movement doesn't dominate their length. No, here, the shadows dominate the bright ball of warmth and happiness. They rule this place with an icy fist and impenetrable borders. I don't know how it happened, but somehow it's the place I call home even though it's a torturous cage.

Blackness is the only color of my existence. Endless black thoughts consume endless black hours. Some days I just lay on the ground reminiscing on how life used to be before I was condemned to isolation. Other days I pace around, hoping the friction will wear down a door to where rainbows exist.

And some days I dream. Last night I dreamed I stumbled upon a bright meadow with pretty flowers - the pinks, oranges, purples, reds, yellows, greens and blues blinded my eyes with brilliance. My excitement was palpable. Blithe music wafted through the trees and I saw fairies dancing gracefully, beautifully. I lurked in the shadows, waiting and watching. I wanted to join, but I felt wary for some unknown reason. Restless overcame and the fairies grabbed my hands, begging me to join.

Ah, sweet sunshine engulfed my soul. Stretching my arms out to their full length, I spun in ecstasy. Never had I felt so alive. As I spun splendid fireworks went off. But it was all wrong. The music stopped and the fairies dropped to the ground one by one. The fireworks were landmines.

I woke up covered in sweat and shadows.

Tumult

2009-04-13T20:27:00.004-06:00

Raindrops carve canyons in the crevice of the heart
Thunder strikes
and the lying body shakes

Hello

2009-04-08T08:00:00.000-06:00

This commercial has been on air in Uganda for Orange (a French telecom company that is launching service in Uganda). I really like it. What do you think?

Adulthood

2009-04-07T10:00:00.001-06:00

In the eyes of the world, I'm considered an adult: twenty-four, financially independent with a career. I don't know why adulthood scares me so much. Probably because the responsibilities and the expectations are so much more.

I don't think I've ever felt less like an adult. My immaturity, pride and selfishness shouldn't be able to strong arm me this much.

How does adulthood just sneak up on us? Do you just suddenly wake up one day and realize that your childhood days have flashed by and you are now expected to be something more? Do you suddenly realize that those attributes and qualities you've developed are who you are? Both the good and bad, that's your identity now. What if you wake up one morning and no longer recognize the eyes staring back at you? How does that even happen?

Twenty-four. I know it isn't that old, but it seems old enough for me to have my act together. Maybe I won't really think of myself as an adult until I'm 80. Still, I thought by 24 I would be someone else. Someone significantly better. But I'm working on it so when I turn 30, I'll happily claim to be the person looking back at me.

I Am A Rock

2009-03-19T07:58:00.004-06:00

From the GChat Files...
me: my cubemate just called me "[PiqPar's most common nickname]"
E: haha awww you're buddies now
i guess this means i have to come up with a nickname for you, too...
this will further validate our friendship as set by north american social norms
me: haha
no need to conform
I will continue to call you by your Christian name
E: but maybe my anti conformist tendencies are becoming the norm so in order to feel true to my innate individualistic character I must conform to do something innovative.
oh haha....i do like my christian name
did you like my-i have to conform to be an anti-conformist theory?
me: cough bs cough
E: lol lol
i have a nickname for you :)
are you ready for it? oh and i also have what you can call me :)
me: excellent
E: are you ready?
this is BIG
me: I'm stoked!!!!
E: yes!!!
ok here we go...
I will call you Porphyry and you will call me Blessed Joan.
me: hahahahahahahahahahah
E: bahahahahahahah
i so funny :)
me: I was thinking the point was to make it shorter
not longer
E: oh...ooops i missed that memo
me: hahahaha
so
you want to explain your thinking behind the two?
E: oh ok...
well you're not a plutonic rock if that's what you're thinking
i gave us our st.'s names!!!!
so you're st. porphyry of gaza and i'm blessed joan of Toulouse.
me: I was wondering why you were calling me a rock.... :)
E: bawahahahahahahha
i am literally bouncing as i giggle here alone
me: I was thinking "So I'm a rock and she's a saint....
E: hahahahhaha
me: what is she secretly trying to tell me?"
E: LOL

Solar System

2009-03-17T08:30:00.000-06:00

When I was younger, probably eleven or twelve, I did a science project on the cycles of the moon. I became fascinated with its color and shape based on the light of the sun. I wrote stories about Apollo trips and what it would be like to walk on its surface. I would lay on my grass for hours just looking up at the sky contemplating the secrets of the universe and dreaming about being an engineer for NASA and making my own trip to outer space.

Then I took calculus in high school. I hated it and I saw all of my NASA engineering dreams die. Thinking about taking that much math in college made me sick. I am land bound, but my love and wonder of the night sky continues.

That’s one of the drawbacks of living in New York. No night sky. No where to lay down and just stare at the vastness of space and remind myself I am only one very small speck in the universe.

It’s so easy to get caught up in my personal dramas, tragedies and occasional comedies. I am a completely selfish being and 99% of all my thoughts and actions are centered around my personal solar system. It is, in the end, a very unrewarding way to live.

I think that is one of the amazing things about God. He isn’t focused on himself. He has an entire solar system of creations that He loves and watches over. He rules over all, but He is concerned about the most insignificant – me. And He knows me from the next speck of dust. He knew my disappointment when I realized I would never touch the surface of the moon. But He comforts me by giving eyes to gaze up at an unknown world of burning stars. His creations are so incredible and as one of his creations, I’m pretty incredible too.

Life is such a gift, a blessing. Even in my tiny struggles with day to day life, I feel so blessed. Here I am, learning, growing, experiencing love, anger, sadness, hope, contentment, joy. I get a taste of all of it. And I strive to become someone better year after year. Someone more Christlike. I might be a tiny speck, but I’m not insignificant. Not in the eyes of my family and especially not in God’s.

Cherries on Top

2009-03-15T23:00:00.004-06:00

I've started and stopped this post so many times. The emotions of each version have been unique and not always pleasant. They were always honest, but sometimes complete honesty doesn't belong on a public blog. So none have been posted and now days and weeks have passed me by. Working and playing. Laughing and maybe even shedding a tear or two.

I wish I had better captured my adventures over the past month or so. Instead of the great stories, here is a laundry list of some of things I've been doing (in no particular order).

-Ate at new restaurants (La Bonne Soupe is amazing)
-Saw Jon Stewart and his daughter at Magnolia's bakery
-Worked on my dancing skills
-Rescued by a friend when I turned out to not be a good dancer
-Helped a little French woman find Century 21
-Walked over the Brooklyn Bridge and finally experienced Grimaldi's pizza
-Felt pride at being an American while watching one of my friend's become a US citizen
-Rode a mechanical bull for longer than 8 seconds
-Maybe got hit on by a woman. Or maybe she was just being friendly. I'll never know.
-Went speed dating
-Refined my guitar hero skills
-Started folding my pizza when eating it
-Practiced my New York accent
-Hoped spring would come quicker
-Polluted my lungs when I got on the train and found people smoking (happened twice!)
-Drank a whole bottle of Martinelli's at Macy's
-Stayed up way too late
-Went ice skating at central park
-Smiled and did a little dance when I walked past the carousel at Bryant Park and they were playing music from Amelie
-Rolled my eyes when some older man was mean because I told him he couldn't use my subway pass
-Wasted time waiting for trains and buses
-Loved and been loved
-Bought a ticket to Greece
-Felt a little giddy when a Trader Joe's worker told me I had beautiful eyes
-Went to the bodies exhibit
-Watched the Professional Bull Riders in NYC. Who would've guessed there were so many cowboys in the city?

Life is good.

DC and Adele and Obama

2009-01-26T12:51:00.006-07:00

Pre-inauguration DC was crazy. Packed with people and palpitating with happiness. The energy was intoxicating, but the coldness counterbalanced it. Instead of exploring the city with 2 million other people, I bunkered down with Maestro, watching movies and old 30 Rock episodes. It was great. But we did venture out Saturday night to experience the melodious Adele. I hadn't heard of her, but since Maestro's nickname is Maestro, I figured she wouldn't lead me astray. I absolutely loved her. Check her out below.

I left DC before the inauguration (work is awesome), but I watched it on TV. I agreed with most of what Obama said in his speech. America is a great place, but each citizen has a responsibility to continue to make it great. The ideals that this country were built on can't just be thrown out.
Check out what Liz said. She wrote it better than me.)

Hopefully President Obama has more than just good speeches up his sleeve.

Fallen Aphrodite

2009-01-15T20:00:00.000-07:00

You spun the Sirens song
My soul seceded within seconds
Elysian-Field-ecstasy filled everything
I flew higher than Icarus, inches from the imperial view

But Sirens take victims
And I’m no heroine.
Totally deflated, I fell

Sucked onto this somber, empty, incomplete island
Stuck with sins, egging ego, and icy insecurities
I’m transformed.
I’m gorgon satiated with iodine.

Old Writing

2009-01-12T10:10:00.000-07:00

While I was in Utah, My mom told me I could get rid of the boxes of old stuff that littered my bedroom or I could pay for a storage unit. I could see her point; twenty-one years of memories make for quite a few boxes. I wasn't very successful in getting through all of the boxes, but I did start to make a dent. One of the best things was finding some of my writing from junior high and high school. Some of it is better than the things I write now. Some of it wasn't worth the 30 seconds it took me to read it.

Anyway, here is one of the poems I wrote my senior year of high school. I remember just sitting at the computer for hours working on this one. Making lines rhyme and making the repeating lines make sense throughout the poem was challenging. So restricting. And yet, today I am happy to read something so structured. No strong, wild emotions are crying out at me. It is simple and I feel relieved.

Eros, why don't you play your part?

I feel adrift at sea

because love has broken my heart.

Infatuation struck like a dart-

why couldn't he be struck like me?

Eros, why don't you play your part?

Being with you could have been an awe-inspiring art

but you were a door and I didn't hold the key.

Our lack of love has broken my heart.

Unrequited love tastes like the yellow lemon: tart-

and it chases me down. I wish I could set myself free.

Eros, why don't you play your part?

Now I realize that my smitten soul wasn't smart

to fall and I must pay the fee

by having love brake my heart.

Love, please do not start

unless it will be me AND he-

Eros, why don't you play your part?

Love has broken my heart.

I'll be Home for the Holidays

2009-01-08T15:08:00.001-07:00

Being home is like gorging on comfort food, but without ever getting that sick feeling. It's kind of like going to Cheers - you know, the bar where everybody knows your name. Being home is safe. Being home is heaven.

Every time I go home and see family and friends, I always feel so grateful. I have been able to surround myself with some of the most amazing people this world has to offer. My family has really become my best friends. I don't know what changed the feelings of childhood resentment (not that I ever really had this feeling) to total adoration, but that's what I have now. Mom, Dad, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews. They are a drug that gives me the best high. It's the same thing with my friends. Each is unique and I love each of them more than they will ever know. Just thinking about them now is bringing a huge smile to my face.

Being home wasn't all cheesy moments though.

Went skiing
Sang to the radio in my car
Got my haircut
Played in the snow
Drank in the beautiful sunsets
Played the piano endlessly
Slept in
Ate delicious food
Watched movies
Played the wii: bowling, tennis, karaoke, racing, mountain boarding, dance dance revolution
Sat by the fire
Read books
Talked and talked and talked

Me looking less than attractive in my borrowed ski gear

The Salt Lake Valley from the airplane

A beautiful sunset that refused to be caught on camera

My cute nephew playing in the snow

The cat longing to be outside chasing birds

2008 Books

2009-01-03T15:30:00.001-07:00

Here is the list of books I read in 2008. I think it's complete, but it's possible that I've missed one or two. I am definitely noticing that I prefer reading young adult fiction books. I'm still trying to figure out why.

Let me know if you have any recommendations for future reads.

Overall Rankings
Made me think the most:
The Infinite Atonement
Made me cry the most:
Probably A Thousand Splendid Suns
Biggest waste of time:
Breaking Dawn
Favorite Fiction:
Um, I'm having a hard time choosing, but I'll go with Anne of Avonlea
Favorite Non-Fiction:
The Book of Mormon

The Complete List
1. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis
2. The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis
3. The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander
4. The Giver by Lois Lowry
5. The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis
6. Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery
7. Anne of Avonlea by L. M. Montgomery
8. The Black Cauldron by Lloyd Alexander
9. 1776 by David McCullough
10. Taran Wanderer by Lloyd Alexander
11. The High King by Lloyd Alexander
12. Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn
13. Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine
14. Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer
15. Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception by Eoin Colfer
16. The Host by Stephenie Meyer
17. Anne of the Island by L. M. Montgomery
18. Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
19. Anne of Windy Poplars by L. M. Montgomery
20. Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer
21. Our Search for Happiness by M. Russell Ballard
22. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
23. The Alchemyst {The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel} by Michael Scott
24. The Shack by William P. Young
25. The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
26. A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini
27. Rules of Deception by Christopher Reich
28. Blink by Malcolm Gladwell

29. Brisingr by Christopher Paolini
30. The Infinite Atonement by Tad R. Callister
31. The Book of Mormon

December in Manhattan

2008-12-24T15:33:00.004-07:00

This month I did several things to enjoy the season: saw the Nutcracker, went ice skating at Rockefeller Center, looked at the Christmas windows at Macy's, enjoyed the lights on all of the streets, walked around in the snow. There is something magical about Christmastime in New York. Merry Christmas, everyone!

12.23.08

2008-12-23T00:45:00.008-07:00

The words I would write, if given the space, would be a bridge with a river of emotions flying underneath and a seemingly composed sky above. I could use this space, but its well-worn columns would give me and my words away with that familiar melody. Some things never change and the sentiments always remain the same. So I guess I should shrug, roll my eyes and say "C'est la vie." But here I sit at 3:00 a.m. on this black swivel chair, struggling. Secretly, I'm shriveling in search of a new vocabulary and a new happy emotion.

Awesome Responsibility

2008-12-22T15:22:00.001-07:00

"It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which . . . you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations -- these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit -- immortal horrors or everlasting splendors."
-C. S. Lewis, Joyful Christian

I love this quote. Not only is there limitless potential in each of us, we can influence that potential in others for good or evil. It is both an amazing thought and a very scary one. What if that one argument where I couldn't hold my tongue influenced someone for worse. I would be devastated. I'm resolving right now to be better in all of my interactions.

Silent Mime Schools are Calling

2008-12-15T17:15:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I have days or weeks where I feel strongly that I am in the wrong job. My quiet, reserved personality just isn't right for the flashy ad industry. If I was the only one who felt this way, I could probably overcome the feeling, but people subtly let me know they feel the same way.

Flashback December 2006...
I was anxiously talking to my advertising professor, waiting for him to let me know if I would be an intern in a big New York advertising agency. He gave me the good news and I was thrilled. But as he gave me the news he cautioned me, telling me that I would need to be more full of personality and come out of my shell if I wanted to be successful.

"Be like Sally (name changed to protect the innocent extrovert)," he counseled. "Everyone loves her out there. She is loud and friendly. Be more like her. Go out to lunch with everyone you meet. Recreate yourself."

In some ways I have really tried to take his advice, not just at work, but in social settings too. But in all major ways, I am still the same person I was two years ago. I am no Sally and usually I'm okay with that, but occasionally being me just isn't enough.

Flashback last week...
I am in Denver with some clients and another company that is leading a work session of 16 people. On the second day of work, one of the guys comes up to me and says that I have to be one of the quietest persons he has ever met. I'm embarrassed and upset with myself for being so quiet. I vow to start talking more. I even try to engage him in some conversation.

Later we are introducing ourselves to some consumers who have come to talk to us. This guy interrupts my introduction to tell everyone that I own a mime school in New York. It was funny, but he obviously thinks that my mouth has malfunctioned forcing me to a life of face paint and invisible boxes.

In my defense, I was with very, very dominant people. I usually take a back seat when I'm with people more attention-seeking than I am. It's not like I'm going to just talk over them. And I just don't have a lot to say about alcohol, drug use and raising kids. On certain subjects, I can talk your ear off. Promise. Just ask my mom.

Speaking of my mom, I think I should have taken her advice and become an accountant, quietly crunching numbers hour after hour. Or I guess I could really start a mime school.

On the Subway...

2008-11-19T16:45:00.002-07:00

I was coming back from Brooklyn a week or so ago and decided to read the Book of Mormon to pass the time. As the train neared Manhattan, I put the book away because I knew I wouldn't be able to finish another chapter before my stop. I looked up and made eye contact with the man across the aisle.

"You look like an angel," he says with a heavy Spanish accent.
"Oh. Um. Thanks," I say, blushing.
"Were you reading the Bible?"
"No, actually, I was reading the Book of Mormon." I take my copy out of my purse and show him the cover. "But I have the Bible too," I quickly add, pulling out the mini green Gideon Bible I got on the street a couple of weeks ago.
"Oh, The Book of Mormon. I've never read it. You look like an angel," he says again.

I look at the woman sitting next to him. I feel a little awkward. He must have too, because he gets up and sits down next to me.

"I can see in your eyes that you are very happy. They say that you can see into someone's soul through their eyes," he says.
"It's true. I'm very happy." I smile. Then I hesitate. I don't know if I should keep talking or let the conversation fade. But I can't hold back. I tell him it's my belief and hope in Jesus Christ that gives me all of my happiness. I tell him my simple testimony about the love that Jesus has for each of us. We continue to talk for a couple of minutes about joy and where it comes from.

I felt so good and incredibly happy after this experience. I am so grateful for my Savior who gives me reason for such joy. And I grateful for the chance to share that joy.

***

"Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid; for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song; he also has become my salvation. Therefore, with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation. And in that day shall ye say: Praise the Lord, call upon his name, declare his doings among the people, make mention that his name is exalted. Sing unto the Lord; for he hath done excellent things; this is known in all the earth."
-Book of Mormon, 2 Nephi 22:2-5

The Space Below My Heart

2008-11-16T14:37:00.008-07:00

There is a black hole somewhere between my stomach and my third rib. I've built a little wooden dam around it, but sometimes the black hole comes to life with vicious force, breaking my sticks and sucking the rest of me inside. Pandora's unforgiving box is set loose. Chaos. Anger. Sadness. Desolation. Fear.
Loneliness screams in wordless silence. Frustration claws with long, sharp nails, taunting my soul to succumb to the darkness. The unleashing of such depravity, it's all so overwhelming. My heart is bleeding relentless tears. And I'm numb.

Security Numbers

2008-11-05T20:58:00.003-07:00

A security guard in my office building gave me his number yesterday. We've chatted a couple of times, but I've never really thought anything of it. He stopped by my desk yesterday as he was checking the floor for any hoodlums and we talked for a couple of minutes about computers, the internet and who knows what else. A couple minutes later he came back with a yellow, folded sticky note. "Use it," he says to me as he walks away. I don't know what to say.

I saw him today as I came into work. He gave me an embarrassed, knowing grin and muttered something I couldn't quite catch with my iPod blaring in my ears. I feel awkward.

It's times like these I wish I had a boyfriend. Then I wouldn't have to do anything, but drop a couple of "oh yeah, me and my boyfriend..." comments and things would be fine. But I don't have a boyfriend and as my co-worker nicely pointed out, I seem to only attract weird boys. I wish I knew why.

A Note to my Future Children

2008-11-05T20:34:00.003-07:00

I've heard several people say that some day our kids will ask us "Where were you when Obama got elected?" instead of asking the age old question: "Where were you when Kennedy got shot?" (If my kids ever ask me the latter, we will definitely sit down and talk about 1. how old I am and 2. the more important questions like "Where were you on 9/11/2001?" "How did these events change America?") In order not to forget my actions on 11/4/2008, I will document them here.

7:40 am: I wake up... late again. Quickly get ready.
8:40 am: Out the door of my apartment and off to vote. As I get to the polls, I see that the line is excessively long. Slightly disgruntled, I wait.
8:45 am: I'm told that if I am in a certain election district, I can go in the back door and vote. I soon realize that this is the republican voting line. Sometimes it's good to be a republican in New York.
8:50 am: For the first time, I vote using an old machine that is kind of confusing.
8:55 am: I'm on my way to Starbucks. They are giving away free coffee if you voted. I convince them to give me a free hot chocolate instead.
9:15 am - 5:30 pm: Spend the day at work. People are excited and the energy is palpable. Everyone is encouraging everyone else to go vote. The word "historic" and "Obama" used excessively. I'm starting to get tired of hearing people talk about it.
6:50 pm: Arrive at Ben & Jerry's for free ice cream. I get Chocolate Brownie Fudge and it is delicious. I decide I like voting day because I get free stuff.
7:30 pm - 10:50 pm: Continually update cnn.com and foxnews.com for updates as the polls across the country close.
11:00 pm: Obama is on the brink of victory. I decide to go to bed despite the cheers, banging pots and fireworks that are going off outside. New York is ecstatic.

And there is my day. I won't say who I voted for or if I voted for anyone. Maybe I wrote someone in. It's hard to say now. I will say that serious issues face the country right now and I had (and still have) doubts about the ability of either candidate to "change" anything for the better. I hope President Obama makes me a believer.

Hopelessly Converted to Dancing

2008-11-03T19:30:00.000-07:00

The wall was covered in mirrors. I’d never been in a room like it before. I looked at myself all dressed up. Pink tights and a black leotard with sleeves that gripped my arms. My little eight-year-old heart had craved dance lessons for months now. Although ballet wasn't what I had in mind. I wanted to take jazz, but my mom said that ballet would give me the basics and I could change later if I wanted to.

Despite my initial desire to quickly change, my once a week ballet lessons, became twice a week and then three times a week. I danced on my toes and despaired over the blisters such dancing caused. Plie, pirouette, chasse, arabesque. I recognized and performed each of these, even if my execution was lacking the grace and fluidity I had been trying to imbue myself with. In the end, the lack of dancing genetics took over and I was told I just wasn't born to be a dancer. With tears of sadness, I left the dance studio with the mirrors I had stared in for so long.

Now eight years after quitting, I try to avoid dancing of any kind. I decided in college that I was inept at all kinds of dance and refused to participate too much. It was a wise defense mechanism. However, it seems that my deficient dancing skills will not follow my lead in this decision; I catch myself dancing all over the place - making a sandwich in my kitchen, empty subway cars, the subway platform, my desk while I jam to my iPod, alone in my room, a beach in Barbados. I try to keep it private, but I'm sure people are in the background laughing at me. But I can't help it.

Maybe it's time to start taking some lessons again. At least I would have a less embarrassing way to let out my desire move it.

The Effect of Too Many Long Work Days...

2008-10-27T21:05:00.003-06:00

Another 12+ hour work day. I can feel the life and the personality being sucked out of me. I keep trying to breathe it back in, but every time I try, I get pushed 20 feet forward and another 100 pounds are dropped on my back. I thought living in New York was supposed to be amazing, but all I see is lots and lots of work. And that lifestyle gets old really fast. Just look at the math...

Living in an urban center (always fun things to do)
- having a job that makes you work nonstop
____________________________________
A really boring life with no friends and no sunshine

I like living in an urban place, for the most part. But I don't like working all of the time. Sometimes I wonder if I would work as much if I lived in a city where life naturally floated along at a slower pace. But I guess if I did, I would never have anything awesome to do with my free time. And I wouldn't see people living in a window, speed reading books. Oh the quandary.

The Morning Routine

2008-10-22T19:43:00.005-06:00

I drag myself out of bed. Stumbling down the bunk bed ladder and into the living room, I drop into a chair and turn on my computer. While it warms up, I look into the mirror that sits on the table. Puffy face, bloodshot eyes, new zits and six inches of fluffed hair look back at me. Familiarity keeps me from screaming in fear.

I jump into the shower, hoping to scrub and wash away the remnants of my staccato sleep. Then I'm back at the table. My tools laid out before me: pick, gel (two different kinds), makeup in a yellow bag, and the mirror.

I hurry to crunch my hair before it starts frizzing. But let's be honest, it will always do its own thing - the wet hair versus the dry do - my very own Jekyll and Hyde right here on my head (let's not mention the one inside my head).

Now time for the makeup. Concealer, eye shadow, mascara. My eyes dart between the task at hand and whatever I'm browsing online. Almost without fail, my lack of concentration bites me as my makeup smears.

Time to decide what to wear. I'm in a hurry to get to work, but the indecision beast takes control. I'm at the mirror again. Staring. My reflection is laughing at me. This is the fifth outfit I've tried on this morning.

Teeth brushed and contacts in, I take one final glance in the mirror and sigh. I'm just not feeling it today.

*This post goes out to Becky, who gave me the word "mirrors" to write about.

Fall is in the Air

2008-10-19T20:06:00.006-06:00

The weather has started to turn cold here in New York. Autumn is definitely starting to appear on the trees. Last week some friends and I drove up to Bear Mountain and West Point to look at the changing leaves. It was so fun to be out of the city. The fresh, crisp air was intoxicating. And it was beautiful...

Picture taken by Eleece

I've had to take the train to Philadelphia a couple of times for work. Instead of working, I find myself looking out the window watching the colored trees fly by. The great thing about the East Coast is the multitude of trees and the vibrancy of the colors. Fall is amazing here.

Yet, I found myself missing autumn in Utah. I miss driving up the canyon with my family with a big bucket of KFC or some tasty food that my mom had made. I miss looking at the mountains and seeing the change from one week to the next. I miss crunching the fallen leaves as I walk the streets.

It's times like these that remind me for the billionth time that I'm not a city girl.

Barbados

2008-10-16T22:34:00.000-06:00

My brief summary of a wonderful week...

The Place
Barbados is absolutely gorgeous. I was enchanted with the place before I stepped off of the plane. It was so insanely green; fields of sugar cane crowded the roads and bearded fig trees drape down. And yet, you are never far from the clear, sparkling ocean. I don't think I've ever seen water look more appetizing. I can't count the times I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

We stayed in this great guest house on the East coast. It was perfect place to stay. Hammocks, lounge chairs, cats, monkeys, coconuts, and amazing views abounded. If I go Barbados again, I will definitely stay there again.

The People
I don't think I've ever met nicer people than those in Barbados. Walking down the street, everyone said hello. If we looked slightly lost, people would point us in the right direction. Several offered to show us around the island. They were so happy and friendly. At first, my New York attitude restricted my friendliness, but by the third day, I was greeting everyone with a huge smile before they could say anything. It felt so nice to be so unguarded.

The Activities
We did some of the coolest stuff there. Of course, I still have a long list of things I would like to do next time I'm there (like surfing and scuba diving), but overall everything was awesome. We did a nice split between beach time and exploring. We went snorkeling with sea turtles and over shipwrecks. We went ziplining over the jungle. We ventured 145 feet down into the ocean to explore the coral and shipwrecks. We experienced the flora and fauna. We drove around the island in a tiny doorless car. It was awesome!

The Partner in Crime
I was a little nervous to spend 7 days with one constant companion; however, my fears were ungrounded. We (at least I think I can say we) had a great time! She is such an amazing person and it was fun to spend some real quality time with her. You can check out more pictures of Barbados at her blog.

The only down moments happened because of stupidity. Like when I let my camera drown in the ocean. Or when I didn't apply enough sunscreen and ended up with a good burn. Or when I realized my apartment keys were no where to be found. Or when I realized that I had to come back to New York (stupid me for booking a flight back).

Beach Time

2008-09-19T21:35:00.002-06:00

The count down clock is almost done counting down... that means I will be in Barbados for the next week. Pictures and stories will be posted upon my return. Have a good week!

Battling Reality

2008-09-18T21:25:00.003-06:00

Don't cry now
Those sea-salt droplets shouldn't have a home
on your perfect face
I'm told the bad days will tornado through
and then
quietness
will
fall

I'm told happiness will come
like spring blossoming life with every touch

But for now,
just try to survive the coldest night
Don't let the loneliness win.
Push the darkness away.
The rearing, ugly monster can't live under the bed
when I leave the light on

Ignore the days that are ignoring you
Beat them back with red, pounding fists of fury

Walk away victorious-
Back to the white picket fence

I think I saw someone famous...

2008-09-15T18:39:00.000-06:00

But I have no idea who it was.

I was waiting at the crosswalk when I noticed this girl trying to take a picture of the guy standing next to me. I thought it was weird, but no big deal. After we crossed the street, some random guy stopped this supposed celebrity and asked to take a picture of him. I'm guessing he was a musician because he was carrying a guitar on his back. His hair was long and I don't really remember much more about him.

Who was it??! I don't think I'll ever know.

The disappointment is severe.

Meet Gaston

2008-09-10T21:50:00.000-06:00

Everyone, meet Gaston.
He is the new man in my life.
He's pretty nice, even if he is a little possessive.
With his strong arm he keeps me tied down.
But on a positive note, he entertains me when I'm bored.
He is a little older-
The dents and scrapes are evidence that I am not his first relationship.
And that's okay.
After all, I don't need perfection.

Song of the Week

2008-09-09T13:21:00.002-06:00

This song randomly started playing on my Shuffle one day. I have no idea where it came from, but I discovered that I really like it. The melancholy verses somehow fit my overwhelmed mood today.

You can't be serious

2008-09-08T20:47:00.003-06:00

I saw this winning advertisement on the subway the other day. I'm really hoping it's a joke. In case you can't read the blurry picture, the basic premise is that you can take a tablet and be like Kanye. (Please note the ridiculous pictures as well.)

"Two fast-acting Be KANYE Tablets can unleash the SUPERSTAR within."

Wow. Please, sign me up right now. I've been dying for my inner superstar to make me millions. I, like, know that these tablets will, like, totally do the trick.

Labor Day Weekend

2008-09-08T20:15:00.003-06:00

My mom, dad and one of my brothers were in New York over Labor Day weekend. It was so great to have them here. We were able to do a lot of really fun things, like a cruise around the island of Manhattan, see Wicked, go up to the Cloisters (a monastery that was brought over from Europe and now is a museum with lots of medieval art), and eat delicious food. Here are some pictures I took. Most of them are from the Cloisters because it made me feel like I was back in Europe.

8.26.08

2008-08-26T20:06:00.003-06:00

-Today is a Tuesday. I like Tuesdays. I was born on a Tuesday.
-It was beautiful outside all day long. I love that New York is experiencing such a mild August.
-I had my corporate championship softball game today. We lost. My only condolence is that I just sat on the bench and cheered; I did not contribute to the loss.
-I tried to go to a party tonight that is actually scheduled for tomorrow. Thinking about how I showed at some door expecting a party, I still feel stupid.
-In exactly six months, I will celebrate my birthday. Happy Half Birthday to me. My roommate scoffed when I told her it was my half birthday, responding with a, "I don't even know when my half birthday is." I wanted to say something smart like, "It's six months after your real birthday." I didn't. I like recognizing my half birthday. It's a milestone of sorts. By now I am well founded in my year. Now is the time to reevaluate. Should I be making any changes to make this year the best one yet? Am I making this year really count? Am I happy? These are important questions that I like to address on my half birthday while I eat half of a cake.

Oh To Be Memorable

2008-08-20T19:53:00.004-06:00

While flying home to Utah, I struck up a conversation with the gentleman sitting next to me. He asked me what I was doing in New York and if that is where I was from. I explained my situation. Being impressed that I've ventured out on my own at such a young, tender age, he asked if he could give me his son's number. (Side note: Seriously? What was I supposed to say to this? Moreover, what was I supposed to do with it? We might be in the 21st century, but I can't see a situation where me using this number isn't completely awkward.) Somehow I ended up with Daddy's boy's number.

I wait a week and then decide, what the heck, I might as well text the boy. My text went something like, "Hi. My name is [Piquantly Parisian]. Your dad gave me your number. Just thought I would say hi and introduce myself." (I know, I know... it's not even that creative of a text).

Well, a day later he texts me back and we continue to text for a while. Finally, I end it because I don't have unlimited texts and I wanted to go to bed. I should have let it die there, but I was just aching for a good story so I texted him tonight.

His response: "who is this?"

Awesome.

Bookend

2008-08-17T20:00:00.003-06:00

Inside a cheap plastic castle
sits a lavish paper throne
where fantasy and dreams are life
and that life is consuming and exciting
Then suddenly everything melts into blank white oblivion
Innocence has vanished
Imagination has flown
And teardrop puddles dissolve
leaving today's new reflection

Favorite Quotes

2008-07-31T18:40:00.003-06:00

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know neither victory nor defeat."
-Theodore Roosevelt, Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910

"Peace can prevail only when that natural inclination to fight is superseded by self-determination to live on a loftier level. Coming unto Jesus Christ as the 'Prince of Peace' is that pathway to peace on earth and goodwill among men. He made a promise to use: 'Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.' .... Because of the long history of hostility upon the earth, many feel that peace is beyond hope. I disagree. Peace is possible. We can learn to love our fellow human beings throughout the world. Whether they be Jewish, Islamic, or fellow Christians, whether Hindu, Buddhist, or other, we can live together with mutual admiration and respect, without forsaking our religious convictions."
-Elder Russell M. Nelson, "Blessed Are the Peacemakers," Ensign, November 2002

Observations While on the Bus

2008-07-24T18:44:00.006-06:00

1. Buses really do catch on fire. It's true. I saw one flaming on the side of the road. The passengers were all stranded on the grassy median. I'm definitely going to have to choose my bus transportation carefully.
2. Nice people are everywhere. The person next to me on the bus offered me some of her cookies. I refused, but a couple of minutes later her friend offered me some cookies again. I could hardly refuse twice.
3. Buses with free wi-fi are awesome!
4. Buses with electrical outlets are even cooler.
5. There is a random guy with a BYU hat on. Who would of guessed I would find a fellow cougar on a bus to DC?
6. Buses drivers can be very entertaining. Especially when they speak English.

My Life

2008-07-23T11:37:00.003-06:00

Update: Much to my dismay, this video is no longer on YouTube. Hopefully someone will upload it again soon.

I might not be a creative genius, but I think this still describes my work life.

Divine Potential

2008-07-21T21:20:00.000-06:00

I was talking to my boss last week about my future and while we were chatting he said, "You have so much potential and you don't even realize it." (I had no idea how to react to this comment, but that isn't really the point of this post, so let's move on.)

As I've reflected on that comment, it came to me that God must frequently think the same thing. We are children of God, which means that we come to Earth with limitless potential, or as L. M. Montgomery put it, babies are "terrific bundles of potentialities."

I am a child of God. I've often wondered if I truly understand and believe this statement. I feel that if I really, truly believed this, my actions would be so different. I wouldn't feel insecure and have you-are-lower-than-dirt-and-everyone-knows-it moments. Safely wrapped in the knowledge that I am a divine being, I would face each day with brightness and surety.

I am a child of God. If I truly understood this I would love every person that I saw because I would understand that they too, are children of God. They are my brothers and sisters. They have potential for greatness, just like me. I wouldn't have to be jealous or envious of their potential. I would understand that we each have our own talents and gifts; our potential can complement each other.

It kind of reminds me of the Pevensie children in the Chronicles of Narnia. Aslan gives each child a specific gift. Peter, who would later become the high king, is given a sword and shield. Susan is given a horn that can summon help and Lucy is given a special healing medicine. (Note: Edmund was following the Witch at this point so he doesn't receive a gift. There is another analogy in that, but I'll leave that for another day.) Aslan, like God, knew that different gifts would be needed as the story unfolded. He also understood the children and gave each of them the gift that would best suit them. God, who knows each of us better than we know ourselves, does the same thing. So why should I be jealous of another?

Knowing that I am a divine being, it wouldn't matter when my dreams seem to shatter or bad karma, like a skunk, seems to drench me. None of that would matter because I would understand that I am divine and eternal. I would understand that I am involved in a grander purpose.

Each one of us has so much potential, but I think few of us realize it. Maybe it's because we need God to help us achieve true greatness. Maybe that is part of the Earth experience - learning to rely on God so He can make more out of us than we ever could.

Sometimes I get a little glimpse of the divinity that is inside of me. It is incredible sight. Someday, even if it is an eternity away, I want to be that person.

Self Realization #1

2008-07-18T12:19:00.008-06:00

It was 6th period and I was anxiously counting down the moments until the class was out, hoping and praying that my teacher wouldn't give out a homework assignment before the bell rang. As I turned my attention back to her, I realized all hope was thrown to the gutter. Papers were already snaking their way around the classroom.

"This paper contains a series of questions," my teacher explained. "I want you to answer these questions in a poetic paper. At least two pages, double spaced, 12-pt font."

I hated writing papers, though the personality questions did look interesting. Surely, I knew myself well enough to make this assignment be a work of art.

Looking back, only one question really stands out, "Are you someone who has to fix things?" No, I wrote, I wait for things to work themselves out.

Reading the compositions out loud the next week, many people were saying that they were fix-it people. For some reason this really surprised me and I started to wonder if I really let problems move in and get comfortable. Maybe it's okay to want to fix things, I thought.

Looking back on my 23 years, it's become clear that I am usually a fix-it kind of person. I want to help. I want to make things better. I would gladly suffer for a friend if it kept them from pain. But I've also had to learn how to wait things out. This weekend tried to teach me that patience again.

I was soundly sleeping Saturday night when I heard my roommate, R, yelling in the next room. Still working through the cobwebs in my mind, I looked at the clock. 4:11 a.m. I got out of bed to find R deeply ill from food poisoning. My other roommate, L, had already called the paramedics to come, but they were taking forever. We had to just sit and listen to R moan in pain. We could do nothing.

When we finally got to the hospital, I had to sit and wait for the doctors to give R medication. Again, I was sitting helplessly, knowing that she would feel better in time, but left with no words or actions to help her in the meantime. I hated every second of it.

She's completely better now. I knew she would be, but it reminded me of that paper I wrote in 7th grade. I was wrong saying I let things sit. I hate letting things simmer. I am a fixer.

Personality Testing

2008-07-16T17:25:00.003-06:00

I took a Myers-Briggs personality test today and these are the results.

Your Type is
ISFJ

Introverted	Sensing	Feeling	Judging
Strength of the preferences %
33	1	50	56

After I got my results, I showed them to my boss and claimed that though this is me most of the time, sometimes I am a different person with different people. Fundamentally I'm the same, but different situations bring out different traits. He told me to google my result and see if the description that came up fit. Here is the description:

"Quiet, kind, and conscientious. Can be depended on to follow through. Usually puts the needs of others above their own needs. Stable and practical, they value security and traditions. Well-developed sense of space and function. Rich inner world of observations about people. Extremely perceptive of other's feelings. Interested in serving others."

My boss laughed when he read it. He thought it described me really well. I didn't mind it because it didn't focus on any of the negative aspects of my personality. I'll take the positive and keep the negative to myself.

Bermuda, Bahama, Come on Pretty Momma...

2008-07-09T11:06:00.007-06:00

I have booked my first real vacation. I'm very excited because the destination is Barbados. For those of you who don't know where Barbados is, I've included a map.

Some of you might be wondering, "Why Barbados?" And to that I say, "Why NOT Barbados?" Especially when you take a look at these nice beach shots. The great deal I got and the great exchange rate also helped me to decide. :)

Ah, it's going to be so relaxing. Now I just have to be patient and wait until the end of September to go.

The Annoying People on the Bus

2008-07-08T18:22:00.006-06:00

On the bus ride back from Maine, my friends and I were going through different categories and deciding what we would be in each of them. Here is what they came up with for me.

Animal: Fox
Breakfast: Grapefruit
Dinner: Soft-Shell Crab
Candy: Twizzler
Geographical location: Flaming Gorge
Playground equipment: Slide / fireman pole
Lord of the Rings Character: Eowyn

There might have been some more categories, but I don't remember what they are. I have a funny feeling that my red hair had a lot to with their choices for me. Nice to know I have such a defining feature. What would you be in these categories?

Thank You Canon

2008-07-08T18:19:00.003-06:00

Canon, you are my favorite company right now. You fixed my camera for free even though I couldn't find my warranty card. Now it works like a charm and I am taking pictures like crazy. And I've decided to find out how to use that manual mode. It's going to be great. Thanks for having compassion on me and my broken camera.

Dear First Love,

2008-06-23T17:40:00.004-06:00

When I first found out you were engaged, I was speechless. In some ways, it felt like a little piece of my hidden heart (the part that will probably always belong to you) had torn. I never expected to have anything happen between us, not since that October night I told you I was still in love with you. No, I knew that you had moved on and I have too. Yet, when I found out you were engaged to another, I knew that I could never again investigate that little piece of my heart. I could never again wonder if you, my first love, ever fondly thought of me.

I was a little surprised when I got your message on facebook asking me to send you my address. I mean, we've barely communicated in years. But I gave it to you and I received your wedding invitation in the mail last week. It was so cute and you looked so happy. I am glad that you chose to share this exciting event with me.

Years have gone by and we are different people. You've fallen in love again and I'm still waiting for my magical moment. And that's okay. I'm grateful for the short time we were together. Thanks for the memories. Thanks for the laughs. Thanks for introducing me to the amazing wonder of love. Thanks for being such a great guy, setting a high bar for all future boyfriends.

You are an amazing guy and I wish you all the happiness in the world.

Sincerely,
Your first kiss

A Thought on Toothpicks

2008-06-20T11:04:00.004-06:00

I like chewing toothpicks. When I worked at the Brick Oven, I used to daily raid the toothpicks at the pick-up counter and chew away. Wanda the Wonderful used to think it was one of my defining characteristics. After I quit, my toothpick gnawing significantly decreased since I lacked the constant supply of toothpicks.

I went out to eat a couple of weeks ago and as I was exiting the restaurant I saw a bowl of toothpicks. Out of habit, I grabbed a bunch for future pleasure. Today, I found the last one sitting on my desk, tempting me with its sharpness. So now, I find myself sitting at my desk with a toothpick lackadaisically poking out of the side of my mouth. Somehow it feels like the most natural thing. Somehow it puts me at ease.

I think I picked it up from my brother. My subconscious, in an effort to emulate the boy that is always 90 points smarter than me, told me that I should slowly demolish small pieces of wood and be happy while doing it.

London to New York. All in Real Time.

2008-06-12T17:17:00.003-06:00

Does anyone know of anyone living in London right now? I totally want to try this out. I guess I don't have to know a particular person. I could probably just see random people walking by and it would still be cool. But it would be such a thrill to see a London friend waving at me in real time.

Ha. It sounds like I've never heard of video chatting.