On Intensive Training

Off to a four-day intensive (MBTI) training (for my job), which means this blog will resume on Monday, April 2, 2012. In honor of said training, here's a Carl Jung quote to pass the mean time:

"It all depends on how we look at things,
and not how they are in themselves."

Happy (April) fooling!

On Losing Our Minds

Virtually Speaking.

While attempting to download and make sense of the thousands of photographs on my iphone and macbook this past weekend (covering less than three years of my life), I carelessly clicked yes’s when I should have picked no’s, deleted when I should have downloaded, and pretended I knew the in’s and out’s of various forms of technology when, in reality, I (too often) rely heavily on the men in my life – much more schooled (and patient) than I – when faced with technological glitches. So when I realized I might have permanently deleted the entirety of 2010 (an important year, though I couldn’t remember why exactly), a wave of panic combined with a flash of life without an integral three hundred and sixty-five days (including a 30th birthday!) filled my panicked eyes and fingers, as mouse clicks increased in speed and urgency. Enjoy!

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On Googling Yourself

Impressed or De-pressed?

Aside from the potentially perceived narcissism, it's not a bad idea to google yourself every other month (or so) just to make sure there's no e-funny business invading your privacy or - worse - your identity. Once the sigh of relief has passed on account of your life being too boring - and your bank account too minuscule - for even the world wide hackers to take interest, the results might disappoint. Accomplishments from your last few jobs, vacation photos from your facebook profile, and even, say, your Monday through Friday blog don't pop up as having any insurmountable value in the electronic kingdom (my daily readership has doubled, by the way, on account of my relocation - woohoo!), even if - in the long run - no news should be good news. Enjoy!

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On Psychic Love

The Magic Ball.

Every now and again, a handful of us dabble with the idea of calling our friend's neighbor's cousin's psychic at the off chance that she (or he?) really might know something we don't. To not know what lies ahead, and only half make sense of what lies behind, and dare not ask what lies beneath, being left in the dark as to when and how we'll fall in love, succeed or fail in our careers, relationships, and latest video games, and eventually "move on from this earth," is one of life's greatest tragedies and triumphs, and a commonality amongst us all. Enjoy!

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On Childhood Obsessions

Remembering When.

For me, an after school shop at the local knickknack store, Toys R Us, or Park Slope's long-time favorite, Al's Toyland, meant one thing and one thing only: barbie dolls. I predictably made a beeline for the only aisle that ever had meaning to me, and scanned the options like a kid in a candy store. Heart Barbie with the puffy sleeves; Peaches n' Cream Barbie with the flowing peach dress; Astronaut Barbie with the space helmet; I needed and (eventually) owned them all! Enjoy.


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On Words that Change Us

One Sentence at a Time.

You read this blog, and that book, and those letters, and these novels because you (likely) share a passion for the power of the written word to change us/them/you/me/andeveryoneweknow in much the same way we are irrevocably altered by love, laughter, a desire to relate, to move forward, or never at all. I read novels and underline passages that, in that moment, feel earth shattering, and then never lay eyes on them again, and maybe even forget (them), or I read them aloud to friends/lovers/strangers/co-workers, over and over and over again. I write fan letters to writers whose words change me for one millisecond or for-ever-ever, in a seemingly failed (written) attempt to match their own ability to wake me (and you) up on the inside(out), temporarily or otherwise. I created this blog because we (me and you) have an understanding that words are everything and nothing simultaneously, but mostly everything. Enjoy!

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On Second Opinions

The Magic Four Words.

For all those women out there whose wedding-planning-albums began at age thirteen and document every detail of their bouquet colors and highly-edited matrimony vows, seeking second opinions from the hubby-to-be might just be the inclusiveness that the relationship-therapist ordered. Whether daffodils trump gardenias or pastels narrow to yellows and pinks, it’s the inquiry and thoughtfulness that doth a successful marriage make. Enjoy!

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On Multiple Personalities

Peeling the Layers.

It's easy to assume that the coffee guy from the corner cafe, or the 7am transit worker, or the receptionist at the doctor's office has the one and only personality specific to that job in that moment. But given how multi-layered and complicated we are, its likely we miss out on the budding artist, astute mathematician, classically trained chef hidden behind the facade of daily responsibility, waiting for the clock to strike the hour in which they can freely peel back their layers and shine. Enjoy!

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On Being Singled Out

Avoiding Eye Contact.

Avoiding eye contact is an audience standard best maintained by those deflecting potential public humiliation from the star on stage, whose humor targets the daily intricacies we're all too familiar with, and also love to hate, or hate to love. Otherwise unarticulated frustrations and nuances ring home at the expense of those around us, until the comedian catches our gaze, blood rushing to our face in preparation for the jokes to come. Enjoy!

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On Showing Spunk

Through Life's Hardships.

When times were tough and a potentially terminal illness was on (my family's) horizon (a year or so ago, with a thankfully positive outcome), I became obsessed with Laura Linney's The Big C. When raving about it to friends and acquaintances (It's amazing! You must watch!), most looked at me with tacit puzzlement, as if there was only one way to deal with such a grave situation. And yet it was the combination of spunk and thoughtful humor - intermingled with the more serious acknowledgements of The Big C's (less) finer moments, of course - that helped me get through my own situation, knowing that sometimes you really must laugh at life's hardships, especially when (nearly) everyone around you is (understandably) at a loss for words and giggles. Enjoy!

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On Everything I Need to Know

I Learned from Soap Operas.

General Hospital (aka GH) was my afternoon television show of choice throughout the majority of the late 80's and early 90's, beating out the usual suspects of cartoon programming (Dennis the Menace, Strawberry Short Cake, Alvin & the Chipmunks and so on) for my one-hour allotment of weekday entertainment. Little did I know this particular soap opera would be the one consistent force over the next decade of my life as nearly every aspect of the world changed around me. Graduating into the double digits, the junior high school and high school years were marked by new neighborhoods and class schedules, friendships that may or may not survive, boyfriends and curfews, and a glimpse into adulthood that had only been seen on television (at 3:00pm to be exact). And through the whirlwind of this uncharted (adolescent) territory, Luke continued to pine after Laura, Tracy and Edward Quartermaine continued to scheme, and Sonny and Brenda never stopped being soul mates. Enjoy!

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On Initial Infatuation

Long-Term Relationships.

Boy meets girl
(or vice versa)
they (quickly) fall in love
and (almost immediately) the initial infatuation

that will inevitably dissipate (into a long-term relationship with real-life decisions and complicated negotiations) monopolizes the vision of the white picket fence that, in reality, will need a paint job, and doesn't actually keep out the neighbor's dog, anyway. Enjoy!

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On Our Sense of Control

Phobia 101.

Having lived with a phobia the majority of my life (family videos document its origins to the early 1980's), I've explored the supposed myriad of reasons why it has come into existence in the first place, in hopes of getting to the root - and eventually rid of - this particular semi-debilitating problem. Traumatic childhood experience? None that I can recall. An extraordinary need for an industrial-strength sense of control? No more than any other borderline type A personality (though others may beg to differ). Avoided said behavior until forgotten how not-so-bad it is? No question, and still do, because (to me) it is that bad. And as its origins begin to make sense, contemplating how to obliterate the phobia is a whole other beast to tackle on another (much braver) day. Enjoy!

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On Quitting Facebook

(Un)Sustainable?

One of my best friends quit facebook less than two weeks ago, and recently commented (to me) that she felt as if she had not seen various friends and family members in ages, as she is no longer privy to the minute detail of their daily lives (via wall posts and newsfeeds). I found this prospect both enticing and nostalgic - to use actual face-to-face interactions (with the ability to see, hear, smell, and rarely but occasionally touch) as the primary means to exchange non- and/or semi-valuable information between people, but information nonetheless. Now I (kinda) wanna quit facebook, too, but then no one would read my blog (and I've already lost my most committed "commenter"), and I'd be without emergency baking instructions (fyi, the 1% milk worked out great), and I'd also be the last person to find out about breakups and makeups, new relationships and unrequited loves, marathon completions and graduate school rejections, recipe tips and newborn baby announcements, workout regimes, impromptu trips around the world, mechanical problems, online dating problems, breast-feeding problems, solutions, anecdotes, shout-outs, cry-outs, cries for help, for joy, for frustration. We are a culture driven by instant gratification and the need to know immediately/yesterday/tomorrow, and yet so much mystery is lost in always knowing and never wondering, guessing or longing for. Enjoy!

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On Making a Wish

Candles and Stars Alike.

Once every 365 days, we sit before a glowering candle encouraged by the witnesses around us (often comprised of family, friends and accompanying significant others) to make a wish in honor of our birth-day, as we debate over whether this wish will actually come true, because most times it won’t, but just in case this time is different we must choose carefully in the fifteen seconds allotted to this moment. Flashes of good health and true love reflect in the blue-ish flame filled with so much promise and yet no promise at all, the magnitude of which is only truly known to the person whose special day has finally arrived. Enjoy!

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On Family Visits

This blog will resume on Wednesday, March 7th, 2012 after the Einstein family's first visit to Colorado concludes. In the meantime, here's to wishing the altitude does not ruin the raspberry chocolate pudding pie baking in the oven. Happy almost spring!

On the Survival Instinct

Viewer Discretion Advised.

One week into moving in with my long-term Roommate for the first time, I rushed through my first attempt at using my favorite 30th birthday present, a brand new mandoline (see link for explanation) for slicing vegetables to perfection. Having naively not read the instructions on account of hastily wanting Oprah's Favorite Turkey Burgers to be a surprise, four quick motions into a perfectly sliced shallot (think 'mini onion/garlic combo') all of a sudden I was bleeding profusely from my most valuable finger, the middle one. When Roommate arrived to find me crying on the front stoop (waiting for my parents to take me to the hospital), he booked it for the kitchen to wrap up any 'missing pieces' that might be relevant for my impending surgery (four stitches). I knew, then, that Roommate's survival instinct would make us a roommate-ship made in heaven. Enjoy!

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