Wednesday, April 30, 2014
On a Stocked Kitchen
Stacked Shelves.
I take pride in a stocked kitchen, as friends who frequent our dining room table often comment on how robust our pantry shelves appear. But that's how I grew up so I know no other way, with snack options aplenty for both the sweet and savory preference. In fact, I recently spotted (Drakes) Devil Dogs (a childhood favorite) in a convenient store, debating for too long whether to ruin my fondest memories knowing full well the bread is too spongy and the cream too thick, and opted for Tylenol instead (my original intent). But I still keep the sweet (Petit Ecolier cookies, which my parents introduced me to in 1985 after a romantic trip to Paris sans kids, or so my memory tells me) and the savory (pickles, as always, in any shape and size), just in case my mother pops in for a visit and needs an afternoon treat. Enjoy!
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Tuesday, April 29, 2014
On Religious Differences (etc)
The Marrying Kind.
You don't (necessarily) get to choose who you fall in love with, so when you find the real deal (and snatch it up!), there will inevitably arise multiple decision points in your relationship that need to be wholeheartedly addressed. East coast or west? (Both!) Hanukah or Christmas? (Both!) Indie Rock or 80s Love Song? (Er...) And it's the navigation of these questions that makes the journey adventurous, the decisions worthwhile, and the partnership stronger than before you both mutually decided that, in fact, her duvet cover matches the bedroom decor best. (Duh.) Enjoy.
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Monday, April 28, 2014
On Our Birthday Suits
Skinny Dipping Anxiety.
From the early days of middle school locker rooms to full summers in sleep away camp to adulthood in public saunas, it's not a guessing game to figure out whose comfortable in their "birthday suits" and who's not. It's the latter whom struggle with the extent of how far to strip down for the once-in-a-six-month full-body masseuse, avoids the drunken (and quite rare) opportunity for skinny dipping, and shies away from closest girlfriends during wedding dress (bridesmaid or otherwise) fittings. Explanations avoided, the two groups intermingle in semi-awkward exchanges with tacit acknowledgement that neither way is better or worse, though one would be a lot less anxiety-provoking than the other. Enjoy!
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Friday, April 25, 2014
On House Guests
Coast to Coast.
The reality of being a visitor in someone else's home is that it's never as comfortable as your own space and routine. Forty-eight hours in, it's easy to become nostalgic for your coffee maker, grounds, and mugs, an innate understanding of how the shower faucet operates, and the ability to fulfill a facebook perusal on a screen larger than your i-phone. But as soon as the visit is over, you immediately miss what you once had-the adventure of new territory (unfamiliar people, places, and things) and the comforts of seeing a long, lost companion who (as of late) only comes in spurts. Enjoy!
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Thursday, April 24, 2014
On Facebook Trash-Talking
Un-Like.
Even though I simultaneously (literally and sincerely) "like" the most recent profiles pics of friends of friends and acquaintances who (still) feel the need to highlight their best physical features in photos that don't realistically represent what they look like (that can't be news to anyone these days), I have to confess that I'm also guilty of private, internal, less-than-holy thoughts. They usually only last a second, are shared with no one, and consist of something along the lines of (easily) identifying [insert particularly camera-happy feature here] and acknowledging that their decision is uncomfortably transparent but, let's face it, facebook is about validation and attention from a world of people we'll never see (in person) again and, I, too, am guilty of it each time I post this blog. So, thank you friend in Brooklyn who reads these words (and "validates" them regularly) and, Mom, for commenting weekly, and to that one camp friend who actually reads the accompanying article and gchatted me recently that he met the NYT Modern Love Editor, and also my Denver friend who reads almost every morning before 8am, and to my Roommate for giving me material. A little validation goes along way no matter how much trash talking happens off-screen. Enjoy!
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Wednesday, April 23, 2014
On 4 Years Ago Today
And so the story goes on the 14th of May 1905, Albert Einstein fell asleep and dreamed of a world in which time stands still. Four years ago today, this very story brought this blog to life while providing a brief escape from (our) daily responsibilities, distractions and nuances, and deserves to be read on an annual basis, if not more:
(happy anniversay, blog; and thank you all for reading.)
14 May 1905
There is a place where time stands still. Raindrops hang motionless in air. Pendulums of clocks float mid-swing. Dogs raise their muzzles in silent howls. Pedestrians are frozen on the dusty streets, their legs cocked as if held by strings. The aromas of dates, mangoes, coriander, cumin are suspended in space.
As a traveler approaches this place from any direction, he moves more and more slowly. His heartbeats grow farther apart, his breathing slackens, his temperature drops, his thoughts diminish, until he reaches dead center and stops. For this is the center of time. From this place, time travels outward in concentric circlest rest at the center, slowly picking up speed at greater diameters.
Who would make pilgrimage to the center of time? Parents with children, and lovers.
And so, at the place where time stands still, one sees parents clutching their children, in a frozen embrace that will never let go. The beautiful young daughter with blue eyes and blond hair will never stop smiling the smile she smiles now, will never lose this soft pink glow on her cheeks, will never grow wrinkled or tired, will never get injured, will never unlearn what her parents have taught her, will never think thoughts that her parents don’t know, will never know evil, will never tell her parents that she does not love them, will never leave her room with the view of the ocean, will never stop touching her parents as she does now.
And at the place where time stands still, one sees lovers kissing in the shadows of buildings, in a frozen embrace that will never let go. The loved one will never take his arms from where they are now, will never give back the bracelet of memories, will never journey far from his lover, will never place himself in danger in self-sacrifice, will never fail to show his love, will never become jealous, will never fall in love with someone else, will never lose the passion of this instant in time.
One must consider that these statues are illuminated by only the most feeble red light, for light is diminished almost to nothing at the center of time, its vibrations slowed to echoes in vast canyons, its intensity reduced to the faint glow of fireflies.
Those not quite at dead center do indeed move, but at the pace of glaciers. A brush of the hair might take a year, a kiss might take a thousand. While a smile is returned, seasons pass in the outer world. While a child is hugged, bridges rise. While a goodbye is said, cities crumble and are forgotten.
And those who return to the outer world . . . Children grow rapidly, forget the centuries-long embrace from their parents, which to them lasted but seconds. Children become adults, live far from their parents, live in their own houses, learn ways of their own, suffer pain, grow old. Children curse their parents for trying to hold them forever, curse time for their own wrinkled skin and hoarse voices. These now old children also want to stop time, but at another time. They want to freeze their own children at the center of time.
Lovers who return find their friends are long gone. After all, lifetimes have passed. They move in a world they do not recognize. Lovers who return still embrace in the shadows of buildings, but now their embraces seem empty and alone. Soon they forget the centuries-long promises, which to them lasted only seconds. They become jealous even among strangers, say hateful things to each other, lose passion, drift apart, grow old and alone in a world they do not know.
Some say it is best not to go near the center of time. Life is a vessel of sadness, but it is noble to live life, and without time there is no life. Others disagree. They would rather have an eternity of contentment, even if that eternity were fixed and frozen, like a butterfly mounted in a case.
~Alan Lightman, Einstein’s Dreams.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
On Young Heartbreak
"Everybody Hurts."
Watching the most recent episode of "New Girl" last night in which (SPOILER ALERT) Jess and Nick break up, both characters drown their sorrows in reruns of Dirty Dancing, belting out Hungry Eyes from across their apartment. I was immediately reminded of my own semi-successful heartbreak remedies throughout the last two decades including but not limited to a cassette tape of REM's Everybody Hurts on repeat (circa 1995), Family Ties reruns at 3am (circa 2001), plates full of overly-crisp bacon (circa 2003), and socializing until 3am (circa 2008). In these moments, anything that distracts delights, and good friends, trashy childhood favorites, and a glimpse of hope that this, too, might actually pass, is all a heartbroken youth needs. Enjoy!
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Monday, April 21, 2014
On What Love Means To You
Other People's Wisdom.
The first time I went backpacking in the Rockies was during the summer of 2009 when my husband and I were still just "friends-with-benefits." We traveled with four other friends and I was smitten with admiration as he effortlessly hung bear bags, whipped together camp fires at a moment's notice (and in the middle of nowhere), and single-handedly carried multiple 30-pound backpacks across death-defying, cliff-like bridges. But it was during the less eventful portion of the hike when I knew I had met someone special. We were hiking a semi-flat trail, everyone felt good about the altitude (aka no one was passed out with severe nausea or shallow breathing), and him and I were deep in conversation about whether Heathcliff was a villain or hero. While we still don't agree on this particular point (I'm pro-Heath, he's not), our passion for literature, language, and philosophical conversation over this quote and that, continues to fuel late-night conversations and an unwavering sense that we've found the real deal. Enjoy (...and definitely check out the attached article)!
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Friday, April 18, 2014
On Losing Our Pets
RIP Furry Friends.
They become a part of our families with personalities competing for attention and love, years of unwavering commitment (as long as dinner is served on time), and a fluffy shoulder to cry on when things get tough. So it's not surprising that when we lose our pets to the furry afterlife, we mourn in ways that appear-to the innocent, non-pet-friendly outsider-disjointed with reality but, in actuality, makes complete sense. A few years ago, in fact, I sat through my own father's eulogy for our bastard cat, Bungee (like a bungee chord), who (in all honesty) used to attempt to scratch our eyes out, but the message was kind and forgiving of any warranted hard feelings (sort of). And a decade before that, I felt extreme guilt (for years) over my naively perceived role in the death of our yellow parakeet, Lemon, who was too sick to fly when he fell off my skinny finger that one time. RIP Bungee, the-kind-of-mean-cat-in-whom-my-father-saw-no-wrong; and to both Lemon & Kashka, our-grade-school-parakeets; and Dodo, who-really-just-ran-away-when-I-accidentally-chased-him-out-of-the-house-in-1985; and to Oreo, the-traumatized-street-cat-who-always-hid-under-the-bed-and-deserved-way-more-appreciation-than-he-got; and to all your cuddly loved ones... Enjoy!
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Thursday, April 17, 2014
On Write, Send or Delete
Draft After Draft After...
Back in the day as an angsty teenager (and young adult), I was an avid emailer of lengthy, profound, overly-contemplative novellas through which I would attempt to woo boys with my words rather than my awkward charm and pointy chin. And it even worked on occasion (just ask my roommate!), as words flowed more effortlessly on virtual paper than in actual person, with hours of opportunity to write and rewrite naive assumptions about this romantic gesture and that, as if i was an expert on topics I really knew nothing about (-only once was I described as smug and I'll never forget it). So today, in some ways, I attempt the same unsophisticated effects through this blog, though I've refocused my content to other people's effortless rants (seriously, click on the daily attached articles, will ya?) in hopes that you and I can connect over some semi-relatable quibble about life, share a moment, and then quickly move on. Enjoy!
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Wednesday, April 16, 2014
On Being in a Slump
Happens to All.
We've all found ourselves there, stuck in a slump we can't always explain, explore or expunge, waiting it out until sunnier days come our way though never soon enough. And so we take one day at a time, watch romantic comedies or action flicks, stuff our faces with butter-drenched homemade popcorn, sulk because we can, turn down plans because we'd rather wallow, send phone calls straight to voicemail with triumph rather than guilt, and know that this too shall pass because this is life and it always does. Enjoy!
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Friday, April 11, 2014
On Brooklyn Bound
Following a long weekend in Brooklyn, NY to enjoy the City during springtime, this blog will return Wednesday, April 16th!
Thursday, April 10, 2014
On What Happened Last Sunday
Confronted By A Phobia.
Friends and family have one question for me this week: am I over it now? You see, this past Sunday, the worst possible thing that could ever happen ... happened: I got the stomach flu. An emetephobic since childhood, this meant coming face-to-face with my lifelong fear, the one thing I've spent time, energy and money avoiding at all costs. And the worst part was (if there is such a thing) it happened at exactly the same time (15 min, to be exact) that my husband/roommate/bestfriendguy also got sick. I'll spare you the details because, really, all anyone wants to know is if I'm over it now. But that's not really the question they should be asking. Sure, I'm as over it as anyone who wasn't there wants me to be. Rather, what's important is that I learned, first, I can be resourceful when faced with a scary situation and, if I can do it, anyone can. Second, it's the people you may not expect who will be there for you if you need them and when you ask. And, finally, that my (dearest) life partner, no matter how ridden with my own worst enemy he is (aka the stomach virus) will always put me first (-to confess, I fearfully abandoned him for a friend's germ-free bathroom and saintly care, but he called every hour on the hour in spite of being in significantly worse physical shape than I) and there's no one else I'd rather be sick with (if I absolutely, positively must). In a word, we survived together and being over it is quite secondary. Enjoy!
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Monday, April 7, 2014
Friday, April 4, 2014
On Our Pathetic Communication Habits
Goodbye Punctuation, etc.
Not only has electronic communication began to diminish our measly interpersonal skills but there goes decades of elementary English education, as well. At my current job, my office houses two communal mugs, both with punctuation rules attractively printed around the brim to entice a learning lesson in the most eager coffee or tea drinkers alike (something about verbs and commas). And while I hoard one in my office for its shape and size (-it's one of those weighty, thick, white mugs that makes drinking water even feel enticing), I couldn't recite the rules if you threatened my life. It's not because I haven't read them either, or attempted to remember them, since, sometimes in the privacy of my own desk, I recite them multiple times in a row. But, rather, I blame the casualness of our technological communication, where anything goes, literally goes down the drain, with no one commenting or correcting even the minorest (ahem) of errors and the forgiven overuse of (ahem) commas. Enjoy!
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Thursday, April 3, 2014
On Becoming a Woman (at Summer Camp)
The 1994 Initiation.
It was the summer of 1994 that marked the haves from the have nots, meaning the girls who were lucky enough to come face-to-face with puberty and then the rest of us. Training bras were secretly worshiped out of the corner of shy eyes, as gossip of impending body changes and accompanying garments dominated late-night bunk-mate conversation long after the counselors supposedly went to sleep. And then it happened-a girl (in my cabin) actually got her period for the first time ever as we cheered her on through envious stares, wrote home with her exciting news, and calculated our own biological clocks in hopes of hearing, at minimal, an occasional tick. Enjoy!
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Wednesday, April 2, 2014
On (Why I Avoid) Spin Class
In a Nutshell.
Congratulations
on signing up for spin class. For building muscles and cardio, it’s the
best exercise there is. Good on you. Give yourself a hand. You may find
the workouts challenging in the beginning, so for you newcomers, a tip:
When
class is over, do not leave the gym for 15 minutes. That way when you
collapse, our specially trained instructors will be there to call 911.
(It also ensures that unattractive strangers will not be stepping over
your body.)
...
-Joyce Wadler, the (attached) article's author, just getting started...
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Tuesday, April 1, 2014
On the Disdainful Hospital Corridor
Morbid Curiosity.
In spite of my extreme historic discomfort with white hospital corridors and all the accompanying telltale signs that (usually) indicate poor health and fear, I've (also) always been the type of visitor whose morbid curiosity draws her uncomfortable gaze towards every open door possible. And so my eyes search for the suffering of strangers, and the sudden death that never comes, the chaos amidst the silence of other people's healing, images that haunt my thoughts hours after I eagerly return my visitors pass and embrace the comforts of the non-medical word outside where air feels cleaner and life recharged. In those moments, I vow to eat healthier, exercise more, and prolong my role as a patient for as long as possible. Enjoy!
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