the -ed chronicles

Surpris-ed?

2012-01-31T12:09:00.000-08:00

Is anyone still out there? Surpris-ed to see me back here after so long?

I'm in the process of building a new platform that I hope you will like, but first order of business...I need a new name. the -ed chronicles has served me well, but I think it's time for something a little catchier, a little more...me.

Here is where you come in. What would you name my next blog? Consider the content I post, the mood, the voice. If possible, I'd like to incorporate my nickname, "Tori" into the new name. Or, if you have another idea, let me know.

Leave any ideas in the comments below. If I end up using your suggestion, there's a box of these in your future.

Touch-ed.

2011-08-30T12:20:00.000-07:00

Please take a moment to watch this beautiful Happy Birthday Tribute to a very lucky wife. I stumbled upon this a while back and remember watching it repeatedly at my desk as tears collected and my lower lip trembled. The second time around was no different.

Never forget how lucky you are. There is so much beauty in this life.

So much beauty because of you.

Start-ed to Fall.

2011-08-29T07:23:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the very beginning of my favorite season. The season of burnt orange, rusty red and chocolately brown. The season of cable knit sweaters, soft leather boots and light weight jackets. The season of crisp air, fallen leaves and cozy nights. The season of juicy apples, velvety pumpkin and spicy cinnamon. The season of family dinners, crackling fires and football games. The season of perfect weather for no-frizz hair, balanced skin and walking outside without sweating.

There's something about fall that screams 'new' to me. Perhaps it's the association fall always has with going back to school, buying new supplies and a new wardrobe. Perhaps it's the obvious sense of change that permeates the air. Fall allows us all to start over, forget about the somewhat exhausting long summer days and start fresh in the crisp air.

In fact, I find I make most of my best resolutions in the fall. Here is this year's resolution:

This year I will make more of an effort to play to my passions: take a cooking course, read about my favorite idols (currently reading Julia Child's memoir and LOVING it), learn more about wine, write in my journal, speak more french, bake a perfect pie crust, keep up with distant friends.

It sounds easy enough: do what you love. But sometimes, this can be the hardest thing to achieve. First, we have to identify what it is that makes us happy, and then find the time to do it. It wasn't until this weekend, while spending the afternoon nose-deep in Julia's descriptions of how to make an omlette that I realized what I need to be doing. And so, I put down the book and made oatmeal raisin cookies, zucchini bread, chicken schnitzel and zucchini fritters.

I fell into bed with a full stomach and heart. Ah, fall. You're always so good to me.

What is your fall resolution?

Peac-ed Out.

2011-08-24T07:43:00.000-07:00

This morning on my way into work, I stopped at the small Rockefeller Center farmers’ market. I winded through aisles of ripe apricots, fresh greens, and homemade jams. I picked up a bunch of still mud-caked radishes, a loaf of freshly baked bread, and a handful of plums. This evening, the boyfriend and I have planned a picnic dinner on the Hoboken waterfront to celebrate the fall-like weather that has been gracing the Northeast the past couple of days. I wanted to pick up some fresh goodies to munch on (and it was a good excuse to indulge one of my favorite hobbies--food shopping).

Before I knew it, 30 minutes had passed. Thirty minutes sitting at my work desk feels like two hours. Twenty minutes wandering the farmers market, inspecting the produce, smelling for freshness, feeling for ripeness, passes like no time at all. I am never more at peace than I am when I’m with food. Perhaps it’s the earthiness or the sensory stimulation. Whatever it is, I could have passed the day there in those market stalls, tasting and wandering. This is what happiness tastes like to me on a Wednesday morning.

What makes you feel at peace? Is it reading a good book? Writing in a journal? Playing an instrument? Gardening? Running?

Mov-ed, Learn-ed, & Ate.

2011-08-19T12:10:00.000-07:00

M O V E

L E A R N

E A T

I stumbled upon this series of 3 videos. I think the description says it all: "3 guys, 44 days, 11 countries, 18 flights, 38 thousand miles, an exploding volcano, 2 cameras and almost a terabyte of footage... all to turn 3 ambitious linear concepts based on movement, learning and food ....into 3 beautiful and hopefully compelling short films....."

These three concepts (movement, learning and food) are what make the world go round. I hope these clips inspire you as much as they did me.
I love the upbeat solo piano music in the background. The editing blows my mind, and the video quality is unmatched.

Great job guys, just one question: next time, will you take me with you?

Where will you go? What will you learn? And how will it all taste?

Happiness, Sim-ed up.

2011-08-19T08:19:00.000-07:00

Have you ever played the highly addictive computer game, The Sims?

When I was growing up, playing house involved a Fisher Price kitchennette, an easy bake oven, and a few unsuspecting friends who were willing to taste my underbaked mud pies. Today, kids play house on the computer. Whether this is sad or genius I don't quite know, but I'm referencing this computer game because it sheds some real light on real life.

My sister and I used to have a blast building imaginary lives and imaginary houses, developing imaginary careers and arranging imaginary furniture. And yet, when I think about it, it all was so realistic.

For those of you that are familiar with the game, you'll remember that each character had several basic needs that you were responsible for tending to in order to make sure they were happy and healthy. Just like in real life, your avatar needed to eat, use the bathroom, stay fit, learn and have social interaction in order to maintain a healthy life. Each of these tasks took a certain amount of time, and some days, you just couldn't fit it all in.

Isn't it the same deal with real life? We know we have certain needs to tend to, but it's never as cut and dry as it was on the Sims. But perhaps it should be.

Yesterday, I spent a very lonely and unproductive day at work. All I really wanted to do was crawl into bed and cry. But I knew that wouldn't boost my happiness meter one bit. Instead, I laced up my running shoes, bolted out the door for the quickest 3 miles I've ever run, treated myself to a healthy vegetarian meal, and then headed back into the city to meet 4 of my favorite females for some much needed giggling, gossiping, and love. By the end of the night, as I drifted off into much needed sleep, I realized that my happiness meter was right where it should have been--full.

Life will always have it's ups and downs, but as long as we take care of ourselves, we'll always win. Thanks, Sims, for making something so complicated so simple in this digital world.

What do you need today?

Tailor-ed to your Taste & Waist

2011-08-09T12:42:00.000-07:00

pic: weheartit

Let's talk about food.

My dear friend over at hungry for living wrote a post per my request for some information about lactose intolerance. She is a master ninja researcher with a special interest in healthy living, so I knew she'd do a great job.

I am thrilled to see the increase in healthy eating, but even more excited to hear about the new trend in food awareness. So many people don't pay attention to their own bodies, assuming that an 'upset tummy' is normal. Food allergies are a very real issue and are extremely important to ensuring digestive health.

Next time you eat your turkey sandwich at lunch, listen to what your body tells you after you eat it. Does something not feel right? Trust me, your diet should be just as tailored to your tastes as it should be to your health.

You're not Bor-ed, You're Boring.

2011-08-02T11:04:00.000-07:00

On one of my frequented blogs, Yes and Yes, I found this quote:

"‘I’m bored’ is a useless thing to say. I mean, you live in a great, big, vast world that you’ve seen none percent of. Even the inside of your own mind is endless. The fact that you’re alive is amazing, so you don’t get to say ‘I’m bored.’" -Louis CK

How true it is. Your mind is an infinite resource that is constantly bubbling with words and thoughts and images, plans and dreams. Capture them to share with the rest of the world. Write something, draw something, sing something, make something, say something, be something.

Likewise, the world is there for your entertainment, experience it.
Eat an ice cream cone and taste the sweet grains of sugar as they melt on your tongue.
Kiss someone’s forehead and marvel at how affection can pulsate through your being so strongly that you have to clench your teeth and fists to keep it inside.
Kick your legs up on a park swing, isn’t it amazing that no matter how high you pump, you can never push yourself up and over the bar in one big circle?
Seek to understand the answer to a question no one has posed before.
Notice all the details.
Keep going, digging, running, writing, being.
You don’t get to say ‘I’m bored.’

Sav-ed for a rainy day.

2011-07-29T07:33:00.000-07:00

Any one else crave a rainy day every once in a while?

When I lived in Miami, it seemed like it was sunny nearly every day. Even when it rained, it usually blew through quickly, an afternoon tropical storm would pass through, dumping buckets over South Florida in an hour or so and then the sun would return. In the summers, it was almost like clock-work. Every afternoon at approximately 4pm, the skies would darken, the storm would brew, and by the end of my 5pm class, the air felt a bit cooler and the sidewalks would be damp.

As glorious as this weather sounds, I actually got tired of the sun--and not for the normal reasons you would expect. The heat, sunburns, and high electric bills (though all annoying) were not what were disenchanting. Every so often, we wake up and want to stay in bed, spend a day on the couch, nurse a cold or a bad day by never leaving our apartment. When it is gloriously sunny, warm, and the beach is a 15 minute walk away, you rarely ever feel it's possible to just stay inside.

As much as we can sometimes gripe about the weather in NY--the brutally hot summers and the winters that are equally as extreme--I love the weather for the rainy days.

Somehow I have caught a cold in between the back-to-back heat waves we've experienced here this summer. All I wanted this morning was a gloomy day--and good old NY delivered. Sitting at my desk, looking out at the heavy gray sky, I know this is just what the doctor ordered. I can feel free to stay indoors all day and start the movie marathon.

Sometimes, we just need a rainy day to feel better.

Toast-ed.

2011-07-28T12:48:00.000-07:00

I'd like to propose a toast.

Here's to the people that inspire you to be a better version of yourself. It is rare that someone doesn't want to change who we are, but instead wants to improve how we are.

M--Thanks to you, I'm Tori 2.0.

Intantly Gratifi-ed.

2011-05-10T11:35:00.000-07:00

They should call us Generation IG. Everything in our world is created on an ‘instant gratification’ basis. Our phones link to Google from any where in the world so that we can instantly know the answer to the burning question: “Why is there fuzz on a kiwi?”

We don’t even have to be in the same hemisphere to do business. I’ll video chat you while we make our billion-dollar deal.

Oh, and if you’re feeling a little lonely in the love department, don’t worry. We’ll type up a quick profile and you’ll be chatting with hotties in no time. Though gratification cannot be guaranteed. Sorry.

The world’s entire global economy is centered around making things instantly accessible. There is an instant answer to all of our needs.

I’m hungry: fast food.
I’m fat: liposuction.
I need an answer: Google.
I want perfect memories: Digital cameras.
I have dirty hands: Hand Sanitizer.
I want a tan: fake tanner.
I need new music: Pandora/iTunes.
I want to watch a movie: Netflix.
I want to go on a Date: Match.com
I want friends: Facebook

Now I can’t say if this instant gratification world is a good or a bad thing because as a Generation IG’er, I’ve never really known anything else. But, what ever happened to our grandparents’ saying: “All good things are worth the wait.” If we never have to wait for anything any more, is anything really as good?

Try taking the scenic route. Let’s wait and see.

Change, Bloom-ed?

2011-05-10T11:09:00.000-07:00

It is officially Spring and change is in the air.

I just had a very insightful conversation with a dear friend. She has a lot of change brewing in her life: an upcoming marriage, a cross-country move, and the beginnings of a new career (congrats on all 3, by the way, M). Here I am griping about my move 4 miles away (give me some credit, it’s to a different state!) and my jury duty summons.

I am usually one to make grand general statements like “we are creatures of habit; change is against our nature.” Or “change is ultimately the best medicine for a chronic ailment.” But, I believe both statements to be true. And so here is my grand general statement: “Life is a bit like a rubix cube with one square blank; it’s a challenge, and even when you think you have it all figured out…you’ll never know.” Encouraging, I know.

This past mother’s day, my madre had us out in the garden doing some minor landscaping. It always surprises me how much spring is the season of new beginnings and fresh perspective. Sure we may have to endure the rainy, muddy days to get there, but we know there will always be May flowers waiting for us when the sun comes out.

What mud have you treaded recently? Have your changes bloomed into everything you hoped for?
I hope so.

pic: weheartit

F-ed Up.

2011-03-21T08:09:00.000-07:00

I work with top executives of a Fortune 500 company on a daily basis. I plan their events, create menus for their diplomatic dinners, and deal with their general ridiculous requests.

I always thought that the closer one got to the top, the more things would start to make sense. The goals of an organization would become clear, the intentions would be for the global good of the enterprise, and the meetings would be about real policies and change.

How wrong I was.

I now realize that the intentions are almost always selfish, the meetings are mostly politics and very little policy, and the goals remain to keep the corner office no matter the cost. In fact, I think the executary title actually makes them stupider. Because they have hired folks to do nearly every menial task for them, they have reverted back to childlike helplessness.

Trust me, we all work for four year olds.

We all need to work for people we can believe in. And unfortunately, my faith in the higher ups of this company has run out. It's time for a new adventure in a place that fosters creativity, productivity, and inspired work.

It's time for a new plan of action...

Who's hiring?

Spring-ed

2011-03-18T10:27:00.000-07:00

With spring around the corner, I find myself longing for space. I wish I had a backyard garden to grow big ripe tomatoes, fragrant daffodils, and fresh zucchini. A place to sit and savor a refreshing drink while I collect my thoughts would be nice. I'd love some fresh air -- air that smells like air and not any other chemical or human byproduct. I'm forgetting what it feels like to go barefoot all day long, and how silence really sounds. I'm losing my sense of nature, as it is slowly replaced with a sense of direction in this big city life.

I hear New Yorkers describe the Big Apple as the best place on Earth. I'd like to think that I've managed to avoid catching the Manhattan disease. I still believe there is nothing better than a quiet seat somewhere in the middle of green, where you can't hear a car horn for miles, and the only lights on at night are the stars.

pic:weheartit

Pray-ed for French Perspective

2011-03-02T07:07:00.000-08:00

Today, for some reason more than most days, I was craving a piece of France. It’s been nearly a year since I was back in my beloved adopted country and the withdrawal is only getting worse.

In high school, I spent a month with a French family, learning the language and the culture. The Girauts were a kind family of six who lived in Tours, but who traveled North to Normandie every weekend in the summer to spend time at the family country home. In France, every old home has a name.

Courtoulin was a large stone house surrounded by an apple orchard, a neighboring farm, and pastures of cows grazing all day long.

In the mornings, I’d awaken to the sound of birds chirping and a soft breeze wafting through my open window.

And before breakfast, the two young boys would wander over to the farm next door to get fresh milk and eggs. They invited me to come along and I knew this was an experience not to miss. In a way, it felt like we were walking back in time, as if with each step, we escaped the future. The farmer was a quiet proud man. He would open the barn door with a smile and usher us in. In turn for the milk and eggs, we would deliver berries and other treats we had picked from our garden.

On the walk home, we’d pass a small chapel where everyone in the Giraut family was married, and where everyone in the Giraut family was buried. It seemed the entire family history could be told from the pulpit of that little stone chapel.

Our days were spent doing chores: the women prepared three elaborate meals each day, while the boys did boy things like search for snakes and make sure our glasses were always full of the alcoholic apple cider they brewed in the barn. It was a simple life. It was a beautiful life.

Nowadays I find my days are filled with phone calls and emails and honking car horns. And though at times, it is an exciting life, at others, it seems a waste of my precious hours. In the country, everything tasted better, the air smelt sweeter, and thoughts flowed onto my journal pages like water.

I’d like to go back there someday and sit in the little chapel. I imagine the conversation I’d have with those walls, the light coming through the small stained glass windows and making me see the important things in life.

I think I’d pray for fresh milk and eggs and perspective.

Bless-ed Home.

2011-02-16T11:24:00.000-08:00

What is it about going home that makes everything seem right?

Last week Mom and I stayed up late baking caramel pecan squares, swooning over paint colors for her bedroom remodel, and drinking more wine than is appropriate on a Wednesday evening. It was perfect.

Dad filled me in on all of his new projects, and drove me to the train in the morning, waiting with the seat warmers turned up high.

Life is pretty wonderful like that.

Baffl-ed.

2011-02-08T07:23:00.000-08:00

When I was in 5th grade, my English teacher gave the class an assignment to make a list of 10 things that we didn’t understand. Even at the time, I remember thinking it was a really cool project. Here were a few of the things on my list:

I don’t understand…

1. How music is recorded and played back on a CD.

2. How everything fits and works together in your body.

3. How the universe can be infinite. Actually, I don’t understand infinity, in general.

4. Black holes.

5. How language began.

Ironically, most of what I didn’t understand back then remains a mystery to me today.

For some reason, photography makes slightly more sense to me than music. A light reflection collected on film is something I can understand. But how sound vibrations are collected on a shiny plastic disk and played back to make up the nuances of a piano solo or a jazz singer’s voice is beyond my comprehension.

The complexity of the human body baffles me. Even more mind boggling is the fact that something so familiar to each one of us, still remains one of the least understood (and most abused) things in our physical realm.

The idea that there is no end to something—that if we were to reach out in any direction for light years, we would never find an edge—is something I imagine none of us will ever truly understand.

Black holes. Enough said.

Essentially how any concept begins (language, numbers, math, etc.) is fascinating to me. Who was the caveman who first decided that the objects we put into our mouths would be called ‘food’? And further, who was the first guy to think ‘hey, I should eat this!’ Was it all a chain reaction? Caveman #1 eats something, he feels better, so he decides he needs to tell caveman #2 to eat it too. How do I do that? Well, perhaps I’ll make some noises and gesture. And so, language was born? That’s just the way I imagine it, but I think you get the point. The beginning of anything is fascinating.

After some consideration, I’ve come up with a theory--because it is human nature to want to understand everything around us. Perhaps there are so many open-ended questions left unanswered so that there would be purpose for life. If every answer was apparent, there would be no reason to explore, to challenge, to experiment. It gives us something to do with our approximately 70 years on Earth. God left us a puzzle with an infinite number of pieces so we’d stay busy.

What piece do you think you’re in charge of? What don’t you understand?

Pockets Empti-ed.

2011-01-31T06:37:00.000-08:00

We went out for Hudson Restaurant Week on Friday and this happened...

Two martinis,
Two stuffed bellies,
Two hours spent philosophizing in French,
Two fuzzy heads,
And what felt like two hundred dollars later,
The two of us drove home.

The rest of the weekend was spent baking cookies, watching cute French romantic comedies, lunching with old friends, playing Wii tennis, and cuddling. My version of bliss.

This week will be a busy one, filled with book club (though I haven't read the book), a dinner with the boyfriend and out-of-country guests, and wedding dress shopping with a special friend. I'm looking forward to it all! However, after such a lavish weekend, the wallet is a little light.

This week's challenge is to keep as many pennies in my pocket as possible. We'll see how it goes.

What are your best tricks for staying on a budget?

If God call-ed You, what would he say?

2011-01-28T08:19:00.000-08:00

I think if God were to ever write me a letter, it would be short. I mean, I know the guy has all the time in the universe, but he's busy negotiating the saving of souls and stuff.

So, I imagine my letter to go something like this:

"It's all good. Love, G."

And just as I'm about to tuck the folded letter into my pocket for safe keeping, I'd notice an ink smudge on the corner. In my cynical mind, I'd think:

'Seriously, God?'

As I wiped it away with my thumb, a new message would appear under my touch...

"Trust me."

Believ-ed in You.

2011-01-28T07:07:00.000-08:00

Why is it that sometimes we can have so little faith in ourselves?

We know we've done it a million times before, but we trust that this time will be the one we mess up. We know ourselves better than anyone else ever will, yet we often trust other's opinions more than our own.

We pray, and repent, and ask for help, but what we fail to realize is that we can do anything, if we just have faith.

I have faith in you.

Do you?

Challeng-ed.

2011-01-27T11:52:00.000-08:00

There are two things you can do when presented with a challenge: step up to the plate, or cower in the corner and hope the challenger doesn't smell fear.

But, see, the thing about hiding out is that you'll never know if you could actually do it. And what if you could. actually. do it??

At least, if you try and fail, you get the credit for trying. And, even better, if you try and succeed, well then you're pretty awesome! So sometimes it's worth it to stick your neck out and give it a go--whether that means stepping up when your boss is out on a snow day, or taking that class on a new subject, or trying out that tough hike you always found too intimidating.

I stepped up today. And even though I may not have been the best, I did it my way and it worked well enough. And, my friends, it feels pretty darn good.

What challenge have you taken on lately?

Time, Wish-ed Away

2011-01-25T11:27:00.000-08:00

Sitting at my desk on a cold January day, wishing that 5’oclock would come 8 hours early makes me sad. I never thought that I’d wish my time away. But when I take a step back, I’m simply wishing for time spent another way. Pretending to stare at e-mails like I care, filing things to fill the time, stressing about a typo in yesterdays report are not the things I want to make up my life.

I want sunsets watched from a breezy dock. I want cozy late nights baking and laughing with my baby sister. I want road trips to no where and everywhere, in search of the best strawberry milkshake. I want a candlelit table of friends, littered with empty wine glasses and bread crumbs.
I want a good relationship with an appreciative boss. I want fulfilling work and a comfortable work environment. I want to be financially stable, without having to negotiate between grocery shopping and a glass of wine with a friend. I want purpose. I want more hours for all the good stuff, and less of the not so great. I want my life, and no one else’s.

Sitting at my desk on a cold January day, watching the snow fall outside makes me realize I’m happy. These things are there for me, somewhere—today or down the line. They’re hiding in my pockets and in between my toes. They’re hiding in my inbox and under my nose. They’re there, showering down in big, white fluffy flakes. I just have to catch them as they fall.

PS - That's me. I told you I'd introduce myself this year. And today, it just felt right. Nice to meet you all.

Vegg-ed Out.

2011-01-24T07:42:00.000-08:00

A little late to be jumping on the healthy New Year's Resolution train, and a little early to be giving up chocolate (again) for lent, I'm chalking my new found healthy attitude up to a few wacky cravings.

This Sunday I had the day to myself--for the first time in a while. At first I paniced. How am I going to fill the hours? Then, before I knew it, I realized I was on one of the best dates I've had in a very long time--with myself!

Me and myself took a chilly walk to knock off a few errands and ended up coming home with (of all things) a box of quinoa.

I am by no means a vegetarian. Meat still holds a special place in my heart, and stomach. But, lately due to budgetary restrictions, some encouragement from a few fellow bloggesses, and a few strange cravings, I have started to incorporate more and more veg-only meals into my diet.

Yesterday's lunch consisted of roasted curry butternut squash and smoky paprika cauliflower served over quinoa (a protein-heavy grain). I topped the dish with some chopped almonds for crunch. It was one of the best things I've tasted in a very long time. I'm trying out the whole food photography thing, so please excuse the close up.

I am not here to tell you that vegetarianism is cool or hip or healthy or environmentally correct. But I do believe it is the easiest way to save a buck, a few calories, and some cholesterol points.

Now, anyone out there have another idea of what to do with the rest of my quinoa?

Lov-ed, Unconditionally.

2011-01-21T07:37:00.000-08:00

Why is it that we can be worst to the people we love best? This morning I woke up with a chip on my shoulder for no good reason. It was too warm in the apartment, my hair wasn’t cooperating, I had to wait a few extra minutes for roommate #2 to get out of the bathroom before I could brush my teeth.

And let me tell you, it was the end of the world.

I might as well have been a five year old who was told ‘no more candy.’ The pout came out, and I had to refrain from flailing my arms in a true hissy fit.

Unfortunately, my boyfriend gets the brunt of these moods. Maybe because we know that remarkably, no matter how awful we are, they’ll still love us. Perhaps because they are the only people we allow ourselves to be vulnerable around. But often, the people we love best, are the only ones who get to see our worst side.

So, dear, sweet, sweet boyfriend. My apologies. But please know that it’s just because I love you.

pic:weheartit

Dat-ed.

2011-01-20T11:41:00.000-08:00

Never underestimate the importance of ‘the date.’ In a longterm relationship, it is easy to get comfortable: to wear the same pajamas every night to bed, to eat your dinner of pasta and jarred sauce on the couch while watching Modern Family together (Wednesday nights on ABC at 9pm. Watch it.), to spend Saturdays at Bed, Bath & Beyond looking for closet organizers. Pretty soon, all of the little normal things that were so exciting to do together in the beginning--because even doing a joint load of laundry together was fun--now are just plain normal.

The remedy to normalcy, you ask? A date.

This morning, just as I was scarfing down my half of our toasted bagel, he proposed “on va boire un coup ce soir?” For those of you who don’t speak French, no, that was not a marriage proposal (we’re not even ready to live together, remember?). Instead, “let’s go get a drink tonight?” The idea of breaking out of our normal routine of home-cooked meal, movie, sleep was invigorating.

Now, it is 3pm. And all I can dream about is a glass of Pinot at a candlelit bar hightop, snuggling up to my beau, and talking about the couples around us in French.

What did you do on your last date night? I bet it was fabulous.

Google Reader-ed

2011-01-20T06:51:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a long overdue catch up happy hour with a very dear friend. We talked of blogs and life and dogs and vacation. All the good stuff. So, while we're on the topic of blogs and new years and resolutions, make it a new year's resolution to add these lovely blogs to your Google Reader immediately. And if you don't have a Google Reader account, you obviously haven't been wasting enough of your time.

Here are three fabulous blogs I catch up on every morning over coffee:

KERF - Kath Eats Real Food is a fun way to look at eating and living wholesomely. Follow Kath as she shares recipes, workout tips, and the ins and outs of opening a new branch of Great Harvest (amazing looking fresh breads) with her baker husband.

everyday musings - Love this girl's world. I wish my everyday musings looked like this. Well done, Olivia Rae. Someone please make her s'mores brownies and send me a few Express Mail.

The Daily Garnish - A daily dose of life as a runner, vegetarian chef, wife, and dog owner. Friends with KERF, she offers up really great veggie and vegan recipes to make even the most carnivourous eaters curious, like this yummy roasted eggplant dip.

There is plenty more where this came from. What are your favorite blogs? My GR could use a refresher.

pic: weheartit

Jealousy, admitted.

2011-01-19T09:40:00.000-08:00

Let's just get it out there, plain and simple. There are some people in life that you just want to be.

Literally, in the game of LIFE, if you pulled a 'swap career, salary, husband, children, family, wardrobe, smile, outlook on the world, etc.' card out of the deck, this would be the the person you'd trade everything with.

You know who I'm talking about: the sorority sister who never said a bad word about anyone. The one who never needed to be the center of attention, made everyone smile, and chose nursing as her profession because her passion was caring for others. The one who married the beyond handsome army liutenant before following him to the German countryside to start their life together....or, um, something like that...you get what I mean.

We all have at least one person that makes us green with envy. And yet, we admire them so much that our jealousy is never malicious. We'd just like to have a few of their traits, a couple of their days.

But you know what the really great thing is? To someone else out there, we're that person too.

Keep makin' them jealous, just the way you are.

Coupl-ed Up.

2011-01-19T09:19:00.000-08:00

There comes a point in every relationship when we must make some decisions. Some make them sooner than others. Some choose different paths, and different sequences of events. But the truth of the matter is, a decision must be made. And failure to make a decision almost inevitably results in a break-up.

Case #1: The Beginning.

Two dear friends recently made a big decision to tie the knot. We are very excited for them! After over two years together, the couple realized that it was now or well, now. Sometimes you just know.

Case #2: The End.

Two other friends just recently had to make the decision of re-location. Living and working in separate cities for over a year, the couples’ ultimatum was finally given: move near me, or move on. Unfortunately, they both decided to move on. Living in limbo was just not doable any longer.

But then there is case #3: The In Between.

A dilemma I am currently facing with the man in my life. Leases are coming due, plans are being set, but furniture is still being moved into two separate apartments. We are not yet ready to make the big decision to live under the same roof, even though we are more in love than ever. I have to admit that I liked the idea very much, but after some thought I realized that sometimes it pays to wait. And until then, I’m quiet comfortable in between.
What relationship decisions have you made lately? Was it a beginning, an end, or an inbetween?

pic: weheartit

Life, Slic-ed.

2011-01-17T12:51:00.000-08:00

Since the last time we spoke, I have changed jobs. I am now in a line of work that speaks to my strengths and my interests, which is very exciting! But as they say, "there's always something."

It's my boss. Now, by no means is she a mean horrible person. She is actually quiet pleasant when she wants to be. The dynamics of our relationship are difficult to explain, but it has left me on the verge of tears more days than I'd like to admit. Essentially, I am expected to be her subordinate, her teammate, and her psychologist all in one. I will admit, however, that I can be a sensitive soul. So what might send me reeling, might bounce off a thicker-skinned individual as a small set back.

That said, I just happened to stumble upon a very appropriate book in my parents library last weekend. "Don't sweat the small stuff...and it's all small stuff." It doesn't take more than a few minutes of flipping through this tiny coffee table book to grasp the basic concept.

I have often said that life is all about the little things. So, the next time something goes wrong, or you get upset, or your boss steps over the line, take a deep breath and imagine your life as a pie graph. How large of a slice would this situation represent? Probably a minimal percentage. Then, think of all of the other wonderful slices. Like I said before, it's all about perspective. Today, I sit sipping mint tea, listening to my Adele Pandora mix, and I think, this is a good slice.

pic: weheartit

Foo-ed.

2011-01-15T08:20:00.000-08:00

I have always wondered if I was born in the wrong era. Perhaps a time when chivalry was the law, or when ladies were courted and wooed would have been more appropriate for me. I am by no means a feminist, so the standard womanly roles of cooking, cleaning, and child-rearing would have suited me just fine. I really have no desire to sit behind a desk, typing out emails and pretending that I actually care for my boss. In an ideal world, my job would be to make delicious food for the people I love.

That said, perhaps this was the exact right time for me to have become a part of the world. The entire universe has suddenly become obsessed with food. It seems that more than half of the blogs out there are food-centric. We now have entire television channels devoted to the art of cooking, and currently some of the biggest stars in pop culture are celebrity chefs.

Has food become the new fashion? Eating the latest food trend--cupcakes, chocolate bacon, emulsified mushroom foam--is exactly that. Trendy.

Last night the boyfriend and I finally tried Mario Batali's newest culinary venture, Eataly. Trendy as always, he's created quite a revolutionary idea, incorporating a marketplace with several restaurants sectioned off by food type. We noshed on the finest Italian cheeses and meats, while sipping on fruit-forward, light red wines. This place is so trendy in fact, they can actually get folks (Americans, no less) to stand while they eat!

The boyfriend has learned that there is nothing sexier to me than good food and a smooth glass of wine. Screw fashion, perhaps food has become the new sex? Or maybe it always has been and we have finally entered an age of honesty.

Feed me, and I am yours forever.

2011, Resolv-ed.

2011-01-14T08:47:00.000-08:00

Cliche alert: new year, new me.

This blog has brought me so much joy in the past, and I really do miss it in my daily life. So, I've decided that I owe it to myself and to you readers (if you're really out there!) to return to the blogg-ed world.

Eleven has always been a favorite number of mine. Let's all agree that this year will have wonderful things in store for each of us.

First, in order to stick to my promise of being a fully dedicated blogger again, we have to get a few resolutions on paper so that you can hold me to them.

A few things I'd like to do here on the -ed chronicles that will require your help:

1. More pictures...of my own. No more of this clip art nonesense. If we have any great photographers out there who'd like to offer their expertise to a blogger still using a tiny point-and-shoot, I am all ears (and eyes, of course).

2. More frequent posts. There are only so many times that you will sit pressing the refresh button before you move on to get your blog fix elsewhere. If there's anything you'd like to see more of, or less of, or you'd just like to voice an opinion, please use the comment box! I love to hear from you. Honestly, you don't realize how excited I get when I see your comments in my inbox!

3. Build my reader-base. As much as this blog is for me, it is also to feel part of a community. There is nothing better than knowing you belong. So spread the word that the -ed chronicles is back and better than ever.

4. Properly introduce myself. I have yet to post a picture of myself, but I think if we're going to get to know each other better, I'm going to have to show face.

Thank you in advance for your love, support, and readership.

And now, on to the good stuff...

Stopp-ed at a Crossroad.

2010-12-07T07:04:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while, life brings out the flashing lights, waves its arms, and screams into the megaphone, "YOU ARE AT A CROSSROAD!!!"

As we all well know, life can be pretty discreet most of the time, hiding some of her biggest changes in a smile, a missed bus, or an exam score. Next thing we know, we're married to the smiler. Or we meet a very important stranger at the bus stop. Or we qualify for admission into a school we never expected to get in to and end up following a new life path. If life made us aware of how big every decision we make really was, existing would be pretty exhausting.

So, instead, she picks her moments. And these are the times times when she pulls out all the stops. For some reason, life decides this is a decision she's going to let you make. Perhaps to her, they are the small things. 'My lease is up, where will I live next?' To us, it's a huge decision. A decision involving contracts, and movers, and more money than we sometimes can afford. To her, this is a minor detail. Her work involves the little things that fill in all of the other moments of our existence.

So my round-about advice is enjoy the 'big' decisions because perhaps they are the smallest ones you'll make. And what seem to be the most insignificant ones--smiling at a stranger--could change the path of your life forever.

So, YOU ARE AT A CROSSROAD!! Life's little inside joke to make you feel important. No matter which path you take, it will all work out.

Smok-ed Apple Pie

2010-11-09T13:53:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wish there was a purely healthy form of smoking. Is that weird? Perhaps as dangerous for your health as lighting a portable scented candle.

Standing on a chilly street corner, waiting for the bus, I think 'Wouldn't it be great to have something warm to puff on? Wouldn't it be sexy to be surrounded by a cloud that smells like cinnamon and cloves and apple pie? And in the next room I enter, everyone would take a deep breath--of me--and smell home?' There's no need for addictive chemicals or harmful additives; it would be like the perfectly ripe, juicy fruit in a world of sticky candy.

These apple pie cigarettes would of course only work in the winter. Who wants to puff on a garden stick in the middle of summer as sweat drips from their brow? Like mittens or earmuffs, the scented sticks would serve only as a means for warmth, company, and fragrance. Like a smokey perfume that passes the lonely hours by your side. Wouldn't that be nice?

Addict-ed to Love, and TV.

2010-11-08T12:05:00.000-08:00

So a few months ago, I signed up for a Netflix account. (I know, I know, I'm a little slow.) Ever since, the boyfriend and I have become complete junkies. So much so that last night, I took the next step and upgraded my account. It's a dangerous addiction.

Our main staple is, of course, the famed series, Mad Men. We have come to love Don Draper and his debonaire, alcoholic, chain-smoking ways. But, to make things worse, last night we discovered Dexter, the relatively ground-breaking series about a serial killer that choses his victims in the name of making the world a better place, essentially eliminating the bad guys one villian at a time. Though Dexter can be a somewhat dark and disturbing show, we are both now sucked in.

Surprisingly, last night's episode evoked a rather interesting thought. Dexter comes across a villian couple--two individuals who are in cahoots on a terrible human trafficking plan, but who also happen to be in love. Just before he kills and dismembers them, he poses this question: "How can two people as awful as you two still be in love with one another?" In rushed gasps they both mutter that they share the same dreams for their lives--in this case the dream was to obtain obscene amounts of money no matter what the cost--but the idea seemed to stick with me.

What if the reason a relationship works is because the mutual dreams line up with one another in such a way that a unified bond is undeniable. Like the way the proteins of DNA match up because their physical and chemical properties just seem to work with one another, what if we work with our romantic partner because all of the little nooks and cranies of our beings match up with theirs?

As a test, I asked: "What's your life dream, babe?"
In his characteristic simple eloquency, he responded, "I don't know, I'd like to just be happy. Doesn't really matter how, I just want love and happiness and a couple of kids."

Huh, maybe Dexter is onto something here.

Staycation-ed

2010-08-30T10:36:00.000-07:00

This weekend felt like a vacation. We ventured no further than a few miles from home, but I felt like I couldn't have been farther away from real life. Here are a few tips I used this weekend that may help to reproduce that staycation feel.

Find a really awesome staycation partner who is available all weekend (hint: boyfriends work perfectly for this).
Make a pact that you will only plan when it feels natural. No need to map out every detail of Sunday when it's only Friday afternoon. Minimal preparation may be required, but the minute planning feels exhausting, give it up. This especially pertains to the small, minute details. It doesn't really matter if you shower then have lunch, or have lunch then shower. You'll figure it out in the moment.
Incorporate family (or friends who feel like family) for part of a day. In our case we brunched and explored with mom and dad. It was the perfect way to introduce new conversation.
Do something active. Shoot some hoops, play a game of tennis, go for a walk. Doesn't matter what the activity is, you feel better when you get the blood moving.
Pick one day to forgo primping. Ladies, this means no makeup, no blow drying, just au naturale. Gentlemen, put down the razor.
Buy yourself something small, but special. I chose a new bag, he picked up a few pairs of work pants after I told him his butt looked even better than usual in khaki.
Cook. It doesn't have to be anything complex, but make sure to prepare at least one meal from scratch. Not only is it healthier for your body, it gives a great feeling of accomplishment and togetherness.
Snuggle, cuddle, bury yourself under covers.
Find at least one hour to be awake and a alone. Do whatever you like with that hour (read, go for a run, play that new game on your iPhone), but do not allow any interruptions.
Drink wine at lunch. No, I'm not promoting alcoholism or other unhealthy habits, but instead I'm endorsing any activity that feels special in it's own right.

Let me know how it goes next weekend.

pic: weheartit

Controll-ed Freak

2010-08-27T07:39:00.000-07:00

So a lot has happened since we last spoke. For one, I'm actually enjoying my job, which perhaps in part explains my blogging absence. It is amazing what a little recognition and an extra responsibility or two does for the morale.

I also have been working on a new mantra: Don't fight it.

In the past, I spoke about energy. I explored the idea that we only have a finite amount of force that we can dedicate to the world. Sometimes we unnecessarily spend energy on things we cannot control. I found that I was spending a lot of time and energy on trying to change a world that was built with me in mind. And believe it or not, life is pretty self-sufficient. You don't have to plan out every minute of every day because life will figure it out without any help from you.

But life can also be pretty cooperative. When you come up with a reasonable plan, it will allow you to take the reigns and make it happen. So, in essence, we just have to figure out where we want to use our energy, because life will take care of the rest.

This may be a bit of a weird stretch, but think of it like your respiratory system. Your lungs will continue to take in and exhale air regardless of whether you tell it to. But, you can also make a conscious effort to take a big calming breath.

Do not fight what you cannot control. But take control of what you can and use it to your advantage.

I'm sure this is the slogan of some 'take back your world' seminar that I am too cheap and too cynical to pay for, but I'm owning it and living it anyways.

There are so many times when I fight things that have not even happened yet or that will happen regardless of what I do.

Once you understand that sometimes there are things that you simply cannot change--and that this is okay, in fact, it is normal--you can go about changing those things that you can. Just accept that, for some reason or another, this world was made for you.

Tuck-ed away for a rainy day.

2010-08-26T08:25:00.000-07:00

A good friend just made a bold move to pick up her life and shift it to the West Coast in pursuit of sunshine, happiness and truth. A fellow blogger, and often the source of inspiration for -ed chronicle posts, she asked what had happened to my blog. The last post published in late June.

"I'm just kinda...happy." I replied.

When you think about some of the literature world's best known authors, one can conclude that happiness is not the best inspiration. It is rare that a masterpiece sprouts from bliss. Instead, one's best life work often is born from inner turmoil. Think Poe, Hemingway, van Gogh.

But, she offered an interesting thought. Happiness is a fleeting thing. An entity that changes with the seasons, the circumstances, the hour. It is important to preserve it in whatever form you can so that you can still find it in those moments it disappears.

What is it that makes you happy?

A feeling of accomplishment, acceptance, self-fulfillment? Coming home to a big smile and loving arms at the end of the day? Savoring the little things, without losing sight of the bigger picture? Whatever it is that makes up your version of bliss--save it. Tuck it away in a pocket for a rainy day. Because sometimes it's just as difficult to find as it is to keep.

Wishing you bliss, Thursday evening sangria and tapas, and everything you're looking for.

Review-ed.

2010-07-20T13:12:00.000-07:00

At work we're doing mid-year reviews. It's easy to look back on the past 6 months and pick out the trademark events that chart your progress professionally. Earned revenue, profit margin, inventory. Business is meant to be measured quantitatively. But how does one measure a personal life. In daylight, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee, in inches, in miles, in laughter in strife? (Rent reference).

I thought it might be a fun exercise to try. In the past 6 months...

1.   I have renewed a lease, signing on for another year in this magnificent city we call NYC.
2.   I said my first whispered 'I love you' to the number one man in my life.
3.   I made a trip back to my favorite country in the world, and climbed (in a cable car) to the highest point in Europe.
4.   I skied, I beached, I hiked, and I rollercoastered.
5.   I saw two friends wed, and one baby cousin born.
6.   I said goodbye to the best puppy there ever was.
7.   I lived through the best birthday party and worst hangover of my life.
8.   I witnessed my first grand slam. (Go Posada!)
9.   I enjoyed 5 days in paradise with 5 of the best friends a girl could have.
10. I learned that sometimes, you just have to have faith. And a cupcake.
11. I shared birthdays, paid visits to out of town friends, and encouraged the dreams of those around me.
12. I took the time to breath it all in because life really is measured in daylight, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.

Take a mid-year life inventory. It's amazing how much you've done. Cheers to another brilliant six months!

I promise I'll be back again before then, though.

Balanc-ed in moderation.

2010-06-07T13:13:00.000-07:00

Ah, it is amazing what a restful weekend can do for the soul! Sometimes there is nothing sweeter than being in bed by midnight with tired legs, a fully tummy, and a happy heart.
Today productivity started strong, and lagged after lunch, though I don't feel bad about taking a little me time today. The attempted theme of this week is balance, what should be a life theme, I think. And so I will give myself some blog browsing time if it means I'll bang out the 30 grant payments waiting to be processed tomorrow morning. I will take the trip home tomorrow night for dinner with baby sis, and maybe fit in a tennis session to feed my need for a good run around before bed. I will skip the gym for a catch up session with the girls later this week. I often get lost in the 'need to do,' 'should really,' and 'wish I did's of life. It's time to recognize the 'sure, why not's.

It doesn't matter how many times it is said, we always forget that the to do list will be there tomorrow. A good life, like a good drink, should have equal parts sweetness, tart, and spice. May you be drunk with happiness this week. But remember, all in moderation.

Undecid-ed: Lame or Not?

2010-06-04T11:30:00.000-07:00

It's Friday evening and the greatest decision of the week stands before me.

Do I catch up on a sleepless and workout-less week of vacation with a long run, a dose of exploratory wandering in a new neighborhood in search of a good cup of coffee and a quiet spot in a corner cafe to do a little studying before stumbling home under the bright NY weekend sky to bed?

OR

Do I rally the troops, attend a small dinner party with friends and friends of friends which will inevitably turn into a drink party with dancing, joking, and general tom-foolery?

Essentially, do I spend the evening in my own company or in the company of others? It's a tricky answer. Some nights, a solo date is the perfect way to spend an evening, but other nights it can be disastrous for the human psyche.

The greatest decision of the week: to be lame or not to be lame?

pics: weheartit.

Peak-ed into the Future.

2010-06-03T13:46:00.000-07:00

As my plane landed last night, a sinking feeling began to grow in my stomach. A sinking feeling that it was over; that our vacation was coming to a close, and reality would tuck away all of the good things in life until the next time we hit the beach. And a sinking feeling that I'd never leave again, forgetting that I'm lucky enough to have another trip planned two weeks from now.

How do our brains have a way of making everything so final sometimes?

Today sitting at my desk, I had to remind myself there will always be a next new big thing. That just because one event, one experience, one day is over, it does not mean that there won't be an even better one to follow. There will always be something to look forward to, no matter how small. In fact, life isn't always about the big things. It's about the anxious feeling of cracking open a new notebook on the first day of class. It's about the dizzy laughter you share over crisp white wine on the first days of summer. It's about the hugs you get walking through the door back home.

Life's landscape is not a steady climb, but a jagged, twisting path dipping into valleys and soaring to the peaks above the clouds. The best climbers understand that there is just as much beauty in the valley as there is from the top.

Miscommunicat-ed.

2010-05-27T12:14:00.000-07:00

So this past week, the boyfriend and I have been preparing for a wonderful tropical getaway. There is, like with any trip, lots to be planned, plenty to be packed, and errands to be run. Of course I have a million questions and reminders for him, and he, as always, has encouraging words. However, the questions, reminders, and kind thoughts are never exchanged and so the annoyance with one another under minute stress begins to mount.

"Why won't he return my calls? Doesn't he know we have to make a plan?!"

"Why didn't she respond to my text?! I need to know how many bottles of sunscreen to pick up at the grocery store!"

In the chaos of preparation, our phones decided to stop communicating with one another. (Thank you, AT&T). I would send a text and he would never receive it. He would call three times, but my phone would never ring. So while we are both frantically running around getting ready for our Saturday departure, the annoyance of no communication grew larger and larger.

When we finally figured out the real reason neither of us had heard from one another, it was a bit of a relief.

You know the standard break up line: "It's not you, it's me?" I'd venture to guess that most of the time, "It's not you, and it's not me, it's really just the situation." Often we confuse being angry at the person with being angry at the situation.

I hope the boyfriend will remember this when we are rushing to the airport Saturday morning. Please remember it is not me that is crazy, it is the situation. It is the 3 cramped train rides it takes to get to the airport. It is the rushed removal of clothing and shoes as I tiptoe barefoot through security. It is the long lines and anxious holiday crowds, that make me crazy. It isn't me, it's the situation. I swear.

So next time you're angry with someone, stop and think. Is it the person or the situation you're angry at? Once you've determined that, you are free to take your agression out on the appropriate party.

Season-ed with Love.

2010-05-17T13:32:00.000-07:00

Weddings, weddings, everywhere! The season is definitely in full swing and you can smell it in the air. Between college friends and family, old friends and office acquaintances, lately it seems everyone is tying the knot and pledging their love to one another. Perhaps I notice it a bit more than usual since I'm of the age where it's something I think about too, or perhaps I'm of the age where I know more people old enough to wed. Either way, this wedding fever, though a bit exhausting (and draining on the wallet), is quite a delightful maladie. After all, is there any better disease than lovesickness?

I'll be sharing some fun photos from the wedding we attended this past weekend. Congrats, Val & Joe!

Sidenote: Wouldn't it be just absolutely heart-wrenchingly perfect to be proposed to here? Hint. Hint.

All Book-ed!

2010-05-14T12:23:00.000-07:00

It's official, I've booked my flight to France! Per my boyfriend's lovely invitation, I will depart June 18 for the land of mountains, friendly French faces, and stinky cheese. Please excuse the beginning of many a daydream post.

I imagine myself meandering through mountain trails, picking fresh goodies and breathing in deep gulps of crisp alpine air, then unpacking a summit picnic and digging my toes into the cool dirt, all the while stopping for quick bisous from le garcon.

Help Request-ed

2010-05-10T12:40:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends,

I need your help. Lately work has been a real struggle and I can't seem to get back on my feet. The little work I have on my plate is far from fulfilling and the rest of the time I try to fill the hours with other tasks, but can't help feeling like I'm wasting my life sitting at this desk.

I need some serious motivational tips. How do I go about getting back into that place where I feel satisfaction from my work? And/or how do I go about making a move towards finding the right work?

Life is all about asking the right questions. Help me find the right answers.

Love always,
Your chronicler in search of her -ed.

Well Advis-ed.

2010-05-04T13:11:00.000-07:00

A very dear friend introduced me to Ben Casnocha's blog this morning and I would be doing you a disservice if I didn't pass it along. Ben currently has a fantastic post about what one might do if he were given the opportunity to live his life anew: commit more errors, eat more ice cream, take few things seriously, run more risks, etc.

A little tidbit of advice that I also gained from Ben's latest tweet is the following:

"Keep two lists: What gets you up in the morning? And what keeps you up at night?"

I believe that the answer to both questions is the same for me: the thought that something bigger is out there.

pic:weheartit

Strung out and start-ed anew

2010-05-03T11:53:00.000-07:00

A few realizations I came to this past week:

I need one weeknight to take a 'me' break: organize paperwork, spend time reading on the couch, try out a new recipe, have a special dinner with the lovely roommate, etc. As much as I love a great weeknight workout to unwind, a day off does me a lot of good.
I need to stop asking too many 'big' questions at once: thoughts about the future tend to snowball. Though it's important to ask these questions sometimes, I need to avoid overwhelming myself so often and spend more time enjoying the present.
Dance parties are good for the soul: this weekend a few girlfriends and I turned on some '80s music after a dinner of margaritas. We jumped around, waving our arms and tapping our feet like pre-teens at a Jonas Brothers concert. What sweet release it was!

And now, looking back at my realizations, I realize that perhaps the string is wound just a little too tight. I know I've been trying to slowly unwind, but maybe it's time to cut the string and start anew.

Snip, snip.

Les Petits Learn-ed Scholars

2010-04-30T13:40:00.000-07:00

“At times the world may seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe that there is much more good in it than bad. All you have to do is look hard enough. and what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may in fact be the first steps of a journey”
- Lemony Snicket

Found this quote on Lindsay's blog and it made me think of the days when I used to tutor two children down the street in my college summers. We would sit in the cool air conditioning, elbows supporting our heavy afternoon minds and read the entire series of Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events.

I remember the little "o's" their lips would make as they read, and the quizzical looks that would cross their faces when they came to a tough-to-sound-out word or a puzzling plot twist. I would wait, give them some time to work it out in their own way, and more often than not I was pleasantly surprised by the discussions they would initiate.

Though I am a lover of literary classics, sometimes I find the best messages are in between the sticky pages of children's books. Le Petit Prince taught us that "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

Thank you, little ones, for teaching me more in one summer afternoon than any degree ever could.

Neglect-ed.

2010-04-29T09:10:00.000-07:00

Isn't it funny how finite the space in our life can be? We pack it to the brim with responsibilites, and relationships, and passions, and when we try to add just one more thing, one more drop, a little spills over and we have to take something out of the cup to drink it all down.

I'm sorry to say that is what happened with you, dear -ed chroniclers. I filled my life with family road trips, and work projects, and book club, and late night phone calls, and early morning gym sessions. And before I knew it, I'd gone a week without a hello. Though I'm sorry to have neglected you lately, I am not sorry that my life has been at the brim. A full life is a happy life--and I'm not just talking about activities. A life full of love, and laughter, and little e-mails 'hello' is the happiest of all.

You only have one life, and who knows how tall the glass will be. Fill it until it spills over, and then gulp down the delicious nectar squeezed out of every experience. Trust me, there's room for a walk in the sunshine, and a margarita with the girls among your laundry and grocery shopping. And I guarantee, your thirst will never be quenched until you drink every last drop, every last drop, every last drop.

pic: weheartit

Week, End-ed.

2010-04-23T12:49:00.000-07:00

Finally, this long week has come to a close and I can look forward to a mini-break filled with the following:

An hour alone with my book, uninteruppted.

(No, that's not me.)

A birthday meal of shrimp and grits with Mom & Dad

(Happy Birthday Mommy dearest!)

Massive Crumbs cupcakes for Mom's sweet tooth.

A race along the river, baby sister's in the Big East!

A long drive home in the rain,

listening to Mom's jazz music.

A lazy Sunday evening spent under the covers.

Trust-ed.

2010-04-22T07:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we all need a mental health day. A day to dump all of our thoughts out on the table, sort through them and only let the good ones back in.

If I ever needed one, today would be the day. For some reason, my brain switch turned on last night. You know the switch that all of a sudden causes your mind to run a million miles a minute, carrying frantic questions from one side to another, bouncing off the sides of your skull before landing on your tongue and bursting into language? Next thing you know, you're asking questions like "where do you see us two years from now?" and "will it ever feel like it's enough?"

And the truth is, when we ask these questions, no answer is ever going to be the right one. Because the truth isn't enough: "I love you." and "I don't know." And a lie is a lie.

If only we could learn to let life live, without questioning every next step. If only we could unload all of the anxious thoughts and nagging questions, turn off the switch, and trust it.

pic:weheartit

Re-Lent-ed.

2010-04-13T10:42:00.000-07:00

The countdown has begun. Fourty-five days from today, I will be lounging on a beach chaise, tropical rum punch in hand, boyfriend, good book, and good friends by my side.

Fourty-five days seems like forever, but it also is the perfect amount of time to focus on sculpting the bikini body I picture in those beach dreams of mine. Yesterday began lent #2, except this time I'm not sacrificing for God, I'm sacrificing for me, which ironically is a bit more difficult. After overdosing on chocolate post-Easter, I've decided to give up sweets and junk food of all kinds, promising myself a good workout at least 4-5 days a week. Though it's a bit of a vain project, I know it will help me think, move, and feel better.

During my project, I've quickly realized what is effective and what simply won't work. It is essential to set a goal, lay out the exact parameters, and challenge yourself to meet the goal. Without a conscious effort, nothing can be achieved.

It's also important to track your progress. An analysis of how you're doing serves as great motivation to keep going. So on that note, I've started using the Self Magazine food/workout log to track my caloric intake and burn. I highly recommend signing up. (It's free and easy!)

What are your springtime resolutions?

Ah, spring, what a perfect time to eat like a rabbit.

Thought, provok-ed.

2010-04-12T13:03:00.000-07:00

"Too old to be an acrobat, too young to die." --from this month's book club pick, Let the Great World Spin.

When we're young enough to do it all, we can't see it. When we can finally see it all, we're too old to do it. The world works in frustratingly mysterious ways. What will you do in this world of trapezes?

Fly.

Support-ed.

2010-04-09T07:50:00.000-07:00

Last night at dinner, the topic of conversation turned to books, the book business in particular. As I sipped my dirty martini (divine!) and he threw back a Sam Adams, questions and ideas flew back and forth across the table.

For the first time, I really had the opportunity to explain the publishing industry, and to my surprise, he had a genuine interest in all that I said. Finally, when I paused to take a breath (and guzzle a bit more vodka), he leaned in. "You should write a book, babe."

It's always been a dream, one I assume most bloggers share. Something I've always hoped to do. Number one on the bucket list. However, it's always been a bit of a silent dream. Not one I'm willing to shout too loudly. But, hearing it out loud from another's lips made it seem more concrete.

"I will."

Sometimes all it takes is a bit of encouragement; the wings of dreams don't work without a little wind underneath them. So, I encourage you to surround yourself with people who support you and the things you love. They just may be the ones to make them happen.

pic:weheartit

I fear-ed it was so.

2010-04-08T12:52:00.000-07:00

So this morning was eventful. I almost died on my elevator ride to work. As the metal box shot 23 stories into the sky, slammed into the ceiling barrier, and then clamped the doors shut as I hung in limbo between floors, I, unlike most normal people, thought 'sweet! material for my next blog post!'

Later on, I got to thinking about fear. I've never been afraid of elevators, or heights, or strangers. No, my phobias are a bit more unique. Like my fear of birds, and divorce, and boob sweat. Or my fear of cutting my finger on aluminum cans, replying all to an email that was meant to be private, or being told I'm an awful writer. We're all afraid of something.

And it's true that fear is the best motivator. I can imagine if I were afraid of plummeting 23 floors to my death that I would be able to claw those elevator doors open with my bare hands. I think the best we can do is learn to play off our fears, use them to push us to our potential.

What will fear do for you?

pic:weheartit

Rust-ed out.

2010-04-07T12:59:00.000-07:00

"It's better to wear out than to rust out," Mom always says.

Go a mile further. Reach an inch higher. Hug a second longer.

And above all, love.

Rest-ed in Peace

2010-04-05T09:47:00.000-07:00

This weekend I had to say a very difficult goodbye. Dixie, our 14 year old Golden Retriever, started having seizures Friday night and by Easter morning it was clear she would not ever return to her bubbly self. Despite her age, she always acted like a puppy, so to see her unable to even lift her head when we put a piece of chicken to her nose was devastating. Thankfully, and perhaps by some cosmic miracle, all members of our family were home for the holiday and able to be in the room with our girl when she took her last doggy breath.

In a way, I believe her passing on Easter was symbolic. We always said she was a saint--the back door left wide open and she'd sit at the top of the stairs, watching the chipmunks patiently and protecting her family from intruders, never once wandering off or harming a soul. She'd rest her nose lovingly in your lap after a long day to let you know someone was there when you felt alone in the world. She'd gently nudge your elbow for a pat because there was never enough love to go around.

I love you my poopy pup, my baby girl. May your heaven be filled with filet mignon, long walks, and plenty of sloppy love.

Questions Answer-ed by More Questions.

2010-04-01T11:27:00.000-07:00

This morning I bumped into a friendly co-worker in the ladies' room. I asked her how she was, and she paused for a second before replying, "I'm alright." Feeling like there was something behind this response, I pushed a bit further.

"Just alright?"

She promised she'd send me a link to a video she had watched earlier that morning and I would understand. About an hour later, this link popped up in my inbox and I ate up the 15 minute video of a commencement speech by Steve Jobs. I highly recommend taking the time to watch this inspirational clip--but beware, it will make you think.

Basically, his message to the graduating class of Stanford was to seize the day. Do what you love. And live every day like it was your last because one day it will be. These are all old adages we've heard a million times before, but for some reason, they sounded fresh coming from him.

So this is my challenge to you. Answer this question: If today was your last day, would you want to do what you did today?

Simple enough, right? The answer will certainly guide you to the next question. The real question is how will you answer that?

Fir-ed Up.

2010-03-31T11:03:00.000-07:00

So yesterday's post got me thinking. How does one go about making a career change, especially in the beginning? Is it trial by fire? Throw a bunch of resume darts into the air and see which ones stick? A tactic I imagine to be beyond frustrating, inefficient, and yet, logical. Or, do you plot and plan with painstaking caution until you've pinpointed the exact career fit, then track down the VP of the department, and stalk them until they give you a job in the mailroom and encourage you to work your way up? Again, frustrating, inefficient, and yet, logical.

No, none of these seem quite right.

What I do think the best tactic would be is to use your web of contacts to get a foot in the door. This is, by no means, a new idea. Networking is as old as the invention of fire. 'Yo, that dude is cooking his food? I need to meet him and learn his skills.' (Yes, cave people are thugs in my head.) I do believe what a lot of today's career specialists leave out of the networking equation is the idea of selective networking. Sure, I believe you should always be kind to those around you. Strike up a conversation in the elevator. Have good manners. But, when it comes to getting ahead, the people that can get you where you want to go are the people that had the resources to get there themselves. (Think of the cave man and his fire.)

So, once you have an idea of where you'd like to go--or at least a vague idea of where you don't want to be--come up with your selective networking strategy. Who has the resources (and perhaps the professional expertise) to get you in the right conversations, in the right social circles, in the right frame of mind?

I've tapped a few of my resources lately, but I'd love to hear what you all are doing to make your way into your dream job. If only life were as easy as being the dude with the firewood. Now, you have to be a five-star chef with a restaurant metropolis, your own cooking show, and a publicist to be 'the dude with skills.'

Did this (cough) light a fire under you to get networking, ahem, selectively?

Shar-ed the Love.

2010-03-30T11:47:00.000-07:00

The boss is out and I've been taking advantage of the free time to obsessively check my Google Reader feed.

Who knew that my dream job was waiting for me just around the next cyber link? I've always wondered, how could I (realistically) combine travel, food, writing, and romance into one career that--and here's the key part--I could actually get paid for. The only solution I kept coming to was a sugar daddy.

But, it looks like CNN has found it for me--a professional honeymoon tester. Travel to luxury, exotic locals with your other half, write up a review, and move on to the next hotel suite, Mai Tai in hand. Yes, please!

I have a hard time believing this is actually a real deal, so if you have another solution for me, or encouraging words to go ahead with the webcast application and start convincing Frenchie to quit his job, I'm all ears.

In the meantime, show me your love by spreading the love. The more readers I have, the closer I am to my goals. Would you be so kind as to pass this link on to a friend who hasn't yet experienced the -ed chronicles? Because, after all, we're all in search of something...

pic: weheartit

Believ-ed in Truth.

2010-03-29T12:52:00.000-07:00

My weekend in a nutshell: sunset bus rides, pink cherry blossoms, national monuments, fresh seafood, and family. Leave out the lost wallet, ex-boyfriend sighting, and massive Sunday hangover and we have a winner.

The truth is what you believe, and I believe life can be beautiful despite itself. And so it is.

Unguid-ed.

2010-03-26T13:29:00.000-07:00

the best and worst aspect of life's design is that there is no instruction manual.

pic:weheartit

Happiness, Project-ed.

2010-03-25T11:32:00.000-07:00

I was feeling a bit like I was sleep walking through the day so, this afternoon during my lunch break, I took a stroll through the bookstore downstairs. While I was perusing the new releases, I stumbled upon a table that seemed to be entirely covered in books on finding happiness. Happiness at Work, A Course in Happiness, The Nine Rooms of Happiness, and the one that caught my eye: The Happiness Project.

Perhaps the recession has left us all in search of something uplifting. But, generally, I feel our society is down in the dumps. And re-reading the first sentence of this blog post, I realize I might be too.

Flipping through one of the above-mentioned titles, I came across the following piece of advice: "Take an inventory of your life. Make a list or description of what you have going for you. Then make a list of the all the 'ifs' you think would make you happier--the 'if' I had this, then I'd be happier. I'm not usually a believer in self-help editorial, but I was feeling particularly needy today, so I figured I'd give it a try.

So here's my inventory:

I am 23 years old, living in New York City on my own paycheck. I'm a pretty decent cook, I can run a half-marathon, and I have a steady job, a fabulous roommate, and a boy I love who loves me back. My family is supportive and involved in all that I do, and my friends know just how to bring the light I need into my life. I know how to speak French fluently, and have a wonderful vacation planned for late May. Writing comes quite naturally to me, I was born with a fairly proportional body, and luck usually seems to be on my side. I accept that I am not perfect, but try my hardest. Life in general, has never really been that hard.

And here are my ifs:

If I had a higher-paying job, then I might be happier.
If I had a more fulfilling job, then I might be happier.
If I had more time to travel, then I might be happier.

The result:
If I focused less on the ifs and more on the nows, then I might be happier.

Huh, maybe there is something to this happiness trend after all...
Book club, anyone?

Wip-ed Away.

2010-03-24T12:58:00.000-07:00

So this weekend I had my first cry in front of the boy, which is always a bit of an awkward step. However, considering that we're almost at the 6-month mark, I feel entitled to a few tears.

And, I was actually quite impressed with myself. It was surprisingly dignified, not messy at all, and extremely short lived. In a moment of weakness, I started talking about my beloved Grammy who is going through a bit of a rough time these days. Before I even realized, one crystal tear glided down over the bridge of my nose as I lay my head on his chest. The jig was up.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he reached down with the pad of his thumb and smoothed it across my cheek. "Tu es trop belle, ma puce." This time, that was all it took. I know there will be bigger speed bumps down the road, messier cries, sadder episodes. But I have a thumb to wipe away the sadness. And that's worth more smiles than I've ever known.

pic:weheartit

Grammy, belov-ed.

2010-03-22T13:04:00.000-07:00

I’ll never forget the day I found my first best friend. We were out for ice cream one sticky summer afternoon, and my heart was beating fast in anticipation as we waited in a line of screaming kids with sticky hands and mud-spattered clothes. While in line, I squeezed my friend’s hand and smiled, exposing my missing front tooth. Finally, we were next. While I stood on my tiptoes to gaze at all the flavors, she ordered for us.

“I’d like strawberry in a cone,” she began, pausing to glance back at the flavors nailed to the wall of the little gray shack. I didn’t hear her finish ordering because by that time, I had two scoops of ice cream in my hands, and nothing else mattered to me. Hardly able to contain my excitement, I gave a hard lick and watched as a ball of pink tumbled to the dirt. As the tears swelled, I clenched my fists to keep from wailing, but just then my grandmother held out her cone.

“Here, you can have mine,” she said softly. I looked at her, amazed that she would give up two scoops of strawberry heaven and hesitantly grasped the wafer cone.

Giving up her ice cream cone was not my grandmother’s most honorable action. Throughout my life she has been by my side, holding my hand, giving me strength, and teaching me lessons without intending to. That day, she taught me the value of friendship, a lesson that I consider one of the most important in life. Radiating with strength, elegance, and kindness, my grandmother has been a continuous inspiration, reminding me that life is all about little pleasures and good friends to enjoy them with along the way.

A few years ago, she asked that I try on her wedding dress. I pulled the yellowed silk gown over my head, smoothing the torn lace while she and my mother snapped photos. My grandmother has always wished to be at my wedding, but because she is now 92, and battling the late stages of severe Alzheimer's, I don't know if this dream is realistic. However, whether or not she is sitting in the church, she will be with me—in a piece of yellowed lace sewn over my heart.

Nothing Achiev-ed.

2010-03-19T13:34:00.000-07:00

5 o'clock. It's quitting time. Lots done, and nothing achieved. The real goals I shall save for this evening:

Have a really good, belly-aching laugh.

pic:weheartit

Eat a light, belly-pleasing meal al fresco.

via sfgirlbybay

Enjoy a glass of crisp Sauvignon Blanc at a sidewalk cafe. And wax poetic.

pic:weheartit, 20 under $20

Take a long walk in the cool sunset residue. His hand in mine.

pic:weheartit, remember him?

Gear up (aka loosen belt) for Macaron Day on Saturday...what a delicious idea!

pic:weheartit, Macaron Day

Enjoy your weekend! What will you accomplish???

First tim-ed.

2010-03-17T13:34:00.000-07:00

This morning.

Corn beef and cabbage is simmering away in my beloved crock pot as I type this to you from my cubicle 23 floors in the sky. It is the first year that it isn't Mom making it. Truly embracing my Irish roots (that would be potatoes), I do believe this trumps making my own turkey. Isn't it funny how much weight the little things carry sometimes?

Do something for the first time today. The first time may not always be the best, but it will never be the same again.
And green is the color of new beginnings, what better day to start something new than on St. Patty's?
pic:weheartit

Baby Stepp-ed.

2010-03-16T13:45:00.000-07:00

I had a bit of a rough day yesterday and decided the best remedy was a home-cooked meal and one of Dad's pep talks. Sure enough, Mom's spaghetti bolognse and Dad's sage words did the trick.

Here's what he said: This is just the beginning. Building the foundation for the rest of your life is often the hardest, and the least interesting task, but certainly one of the most important. It can only get bigger and better from here.

Look at everyday as a challenge. You may not make much, or feel that you do much (of importance, at least), but this is just the beginning. Imagine how exciting it will be when you get out of the ‘foundation building’ and start putting up the walls…and then eventually, decorating the walls just the way we like them. You can’t decorate a wall before the wall is built. Though I hate to say this, you’re going to have to take baby steps.

And so far, you’ve taken some great baby steps.

As if those words weren't enough,on the morning commute I read the following quote: “That which is around me does not affect my mood; my mood affects that which is around me.” The sun is shining, the world is vibrant, I am ready.

pic: weheartit

Question-ed: Love vs. Duty

2010-03-15T11:58:00.000-07:00

This weekend I felt as though I was sitting at the round table convention of real people. My friends the doctor, the teacher, and the actor, (and me, the bookbinder) sat at brunch discussing the life decisions that stood in front of us.

The doctor talked about choosing a specialty. Do I choose the path that I know I love, that I know I'm good at, but that I know will rule every free moment of my time, leaving very little room for anything else? Or do I choose the path that I could enjoy, am marginally good at, but will afford me room to have a life of my own?

The teacher talked about getting her masters. Do I pay $30,000 a year for a two-year program that will exhaust me mentally and financially and move me back to a city I don't want to be in, but eventually get me a license to do what I love? Or do I stay where I am, do what is stable, but is not my passion?

The actor talked about auditions. Do I continue to go after my dream of being a star, though I know how largely unrealistic that can be? Or do I settle on my comfortable path of studies and gallery work that pays the bills, but will never fulfill my desire to be on the big stage or big screen?

And I spoke of the bookbinding business. Do I continue to turn page after page in my tiny cubicle, learning different techniques of the same skill because its safe, because I don't know what else I could get paid for, because I'm scared? Or do I give it all up, start over from scratch and pursue what I love, even if that meant giving up my free hour for my blog?

It shouldn't have amazed me that this question was so universal, but somehow it did. This eternal question of love vs. duty seems to apply to everyone, regardless of their profession. However, despite the universality of the question, it seems that the answers are as different as open heart surgery and a lesson plan. And so the doctor, the teacher, the actor, and the bookbinder went on their way into the beginning of the week in search of answers...

pic:weheartit

Walk-ed a mile in her shoes.

2010-03-12T12:51:00.000-08:00

I've always wanted to be one of those fabulous New York women who goes to late night dinners and cozies up in a dark booth with her fabulous friends and a balloon goblet of wine the color of deep burgundy, laughing with big wide open mouths, and whispering secrets you'd only share with each other. All in delicious plum suede pumps.

So, tonight I've decided to be that woman.

We've made a late reservation at Buddakan and laid out our Friday's finest. I have every intention of taking a post-work nap, leaving myself plenty of time to shower and sip a cup of steaming cinnamon coffee while I apply my makeup and slip into my fabulous, but perfectly understated, black dress. How blissful?!

Every once in a while we need a night where we can pretend we're everything we wish we were. Every once in a while we need to walk a mile (or a few blocks) in someone else's shoes. And tonight, mine just happen to be fabulous.

Because moments are meant to be savor-ed.

2010-03-11T13:58:00.000-08:00

Today, I hope you...
Smile so much, there's time enough to count teeth.
Laugh so hard, there's no need for exercise.
Savor every little bite of a favorite treat, completely without guilt.
Dance in the mirror, and love what you see.
Accomplish something you always thought impossible.
Find out that what you hoped for was true all along.
Make every moment, every tiny moment, yours.
pic: weheartit

Well Travel-ed.

2010-03-05T11:19:00.000-08:00

A psychologist, Abraham Maslow, created the famous hierarchy of basic human needs in his 1943 paper A Theory of Human Motivation. Essentially, he concluded that we all have needs on five different levels:

Physiological
Safety
Love, Affection and Belongingness
Esteem
Self-Acutalization

While I generally agree with his theory, I do believe he left out one very important basic need--VACATION. Just like we must give our muscles, and our eyes, and our brain a rest, we must give our souls a rest. There always seems to be a sort of guilt associated with doing nothing throughout the day--unless, that is, you are on vacay. We all need an opportunity to breathe and reboot, get away from our daily routines, and take in a change of scenery...some more than others.

I happen to be one of those 'others.' That being said, I'm off to Colorado for a much anticipated family ski trip, where I will eat, sleep, breath (#1), wear a ski helmet and abide by mountain rules (#2), spend quality time with extended family (#3), improve my ski skills (#4), and contemplate the promotion that was offered to me yesterday (#5). See, vacation (#6) really IS a basic need!

Do you think HR would consider this a valid argument to extend my 2 weeks?

pic: weheartit

Another year pass-ed us by.

2010-03-02T11:56:00.000-08:00

Today is Daddy-o's birthday, so naturally we will celebrate with sushi, wine, and Mom's homemade pineapple upside-down cake. I can't think of a better way to spend a Tuesday evening in March. As I've mentioned, I love my parents.

Ironically, the milestones of my life are not marked by my own birthdays, but often by those of my parents. With every year that passes, they are one year older, and I seem to be one year farther away. This is surely the natural progression of life, but for a species that nutures it's young even well past the legal marker of adulthood, it seems bizarre that we are able to put so much space, both physical and spiritual, between ourselves and our parents. Today has granted me the opportunity to reflect on my relationship with my Dad.

Dad is...

Corny jokes
Random, unexpected compliments
The $20 casually slipped into my purse before I leave
A mid-day email that recounts the sports scores from last night
The evenings of take-out suppers that Mom would never have sanctioned
Late night algebra tutoring sessions
Cheering at the finish line of my first half-marathon
My protector
The simple answer to the toughest question.
Always there.

pic:weheartit

Lov-ed you ever since.

2010-03-01T11:22:00.000-08:00

I'd wish upon a star, but none as bright as you.
I'd wish upon an hour, but none of them will do.
I'd pluck a flower, but none smell as sweet.
I'd give you my forever, but you know its yours to keep.

What gift is left to give,
To the man made of dreams?
When all that's left to give,
is what's left of me.

I'd say a little prayer, but God already knows.
I'd tell you a story, but you know how it goes.
I'd kiss a million frogs, but you're the only prince.
I loved you from the start, and I've loved you ever since.

A life, pictur-ed perfectly.

2010-02-26T13:36:00.000-08:00

Just a few things I want in my life:

fresh herbs on my windowsill

A to Z guide to every spice in your cabinet

subtitles

rent A Very Long Engagement

the perfect fudgey brownie and a cup of hot cocoa

pic: the kitchn, find out the secret ingredient here

a day of hooky

pic: weheartit

a really gooey, stinky, melt-in-your-mouth cheese

pic: Murray's Cheese Shop

a warm evening spent in the lodge apres-ski

pic: Beano's Cabin

a little solo dance party

pic: weheartit, listen to Best Coast | When I'm With You

a few frilly pieces

pic: weheartit, visit modcloth

purple

pic: thingssheloves

a nap in the lap of luxury

pic: weheartit

paris

pic:weheartit

I need-ed a moment.

2010-02-24T08:25:00.000-08:00

Sometimes we just need a moment...

A moment to catch our breath.
A moment to hold our tongues.
A moment to give thanks.
A moment to think.
A moment to mutter curses inaudibly under our breath.
A moment to say our goodbyes.
A moment to remember.
A moment to unwind.
A moment to take it all in.
A moment to put things in perspective.
A moment to just be.
A moment like this.

Sometimes we just need a moment. And when you need it, take it.

pic: weheartit

Be Littl-ed.

2010-02-23T11:49:00.000-08:00

This morning my aunt sent me one of those chain e-mails that tells some cheesy story about an old man and the good deeds he did paying off even after he passed away. I was about to delete it when I saw the quote at the bottom, "It's not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived." For some reason, this resonated with me. Life is the little smiles at strangers, the long overdue phone calls to old friends, and the cups of coffee shared with Mom. It is holding the door for your neighbor, laughing with Dad, and playing fetch with the pup. Take time to recognize all the ordinary miracles that make up our days.

To quote a famous coffee table book, life is too short to 'sweat the small stuff,' but the greatest of lives are filled with small stuff.

Don't belittle people, be littl-ed.

pic: weheartit

Luck-ed out

2010-02-22T07:51:00.000-08:00

I'm blessed to have fantastic friends. Without hesitation, I can state that I have a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, a lended ear, and an eye watching my back--and all of these don't necessarily belong to the same body. Often times life doesn't feel like it's happening unless we have someone to share it with--kind of like the "if a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound?" theory, I wonder, "if there isn't a friend to laugh at your jokes, are they funny? if there wasn't a friend to wipe away your tears, would you cry?"

Friends are the pieces of reality that make life feel like a dream. Undoubtedly, we all feel lucky to have these people in our lives; however finding those friends may not involve as much luck as we think it does. A few years ago, I read a book called Many Lives, Many Masters by Dr. Brian Weiss. I highly recommend it for anyone who has ever thought about the existence of multiple lives, and anyone who has ever tried to explain a higher being in a less than traditional sense.

Essentially, the one idea that I took away from the book, was the idea that certain souls travel together from one life to the next. We have all, at one point or another, felt we've known someone forever upon first meeting them. That feeling of having already spent a lifetime with someone before is explained simply--perhaps you have.

Now, the last thing that I care to do is to make a firm statement of what I believe to be the truth. Because I can't say for sure exactly what I believe. But I do want to make you think, to question all the things that you already question, and then question them again. If only to make you appreciate it all a little bit more.

It may not have been luck that led you to find your best friends, but you sure are lucky to have them.

pic:weheartit

I'm Soul-ed.

2010-02-17T13:26:00.000-08:00

With all the words in all the languages of this crazy world, you would think we would have enough to describe the things that happen to us on a daily basis, to explain the way we feel. But there never seems to be enough, does there?

Being somewhat of a word nerd, I spend quite a lot of time searching for the right ones. Recently, I was trying to explain what the most important aspect of a relationship was--that indescribable connection we feel with another human being (a lover, a friend, a sister, a mother, etc.). What exactly makes up that connection? Instead of using words, I found myself providing examples:

You laugh about something so hard you start crying, and then you suddenly realize that it's not even that funny, but in that moment, that particular moment, to you two, it is the funniest thing that has ever occurred.
You talk with your faces. They know what your eyes are saying, and what that little smirk that isn't really a smile and isn't really a frown means. And they respond, not in words, but in nose crinkles and eyebrow raises.
You consider them in even your smallest decisions--and don't ever consider it a sacrifice.
You never feel embarrassed around them because they already know you too well.
You keep all of their little secrets, quirks, and idiosyncrasies tucked away in a pocket for safe keeping. Because you know yours are safe in theirs.

It's all these little examples that create that connection. When I thought about it hard enough, I realized the word I was looking for was soul. The real true relationships, the ones worth preserving, are made up of soul. Think about it, all the best things in the world are made up of it...the best music, the best cooking, the best art.

The Beatles may have once said that 'all we need is love,' but there is no love without soul.

Doom-ed.

2010-02-09T11:10:00.000-08:00

I am a hopeless romantic.

Why all romantics are labeled “hopeless?” Would pragmatists then be labeled "hopeful?" Is it really the truth that if one is romantic at heart, he is destined for a dreary future—-a life of gray and predictable dullness? That's seems a bit backwards. Wouldn't you expect that the romantics are the one's who have hope--hope that one day the world (or at least their world) will be filled with love? And not just love, romance, love twisted and folded into poetry and Valentine's cards and rendez-vous in dark cafe corners.

Is it hopeless to believe that flowers were meant to be given? That the lips' second and sweetest function is to be kissed? That chocolate should always come in little red, heart-shaped boxes?

Is it hopeless to love nothing better than to catch him looking at you across the room? To want to exclaim to the world that you've finally found what everyone else spends their life looking for?

Well, if it is hopeless, then I'm happy to be doomed.

pic: weheartit

Stray-ed from the Path.

2010-02-08T11:19:00.000-08:00

The best advice I've ever given, but never followed:

Being lost is okay.

I know you feel hurt and confused, but what you find when you are lost is often worth much more than what you'd discover staying on the same path and never questioning what lays just beyond. Sometimes we need to wander, to take a risk, to follow our hearts into the dark underbrush to find the little treasures of an untapped forest.

Though the path seems to guide is in the right direction, the path only guides us in the direction that others have gone before.

90% Convinc-ed

2010-02-05T13:20:00.000-08:00

Charles Swindoll is credited for the equation: "I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it."

Today began as one of those days where nothing particularly awful happened, but I woke up determined that it was going to be a bad day. I was turning tiny hiccups into huge emotional dramas just because I felt like it. About halfway through my second cup of tea--after snapping at my mother, snubbing my roommate, and scowling at the world--I remembered Mr. Swindoll's theory. So, I gave myself until the last sip of green mint tea to be angry at the world, and then my time was up. I was going to take my 90% control and use it to my benefit.

Now I'm not going to tell you that my day immediately turned around, that the birds started chirping outside the 23rd floor window of my office, or that my co-workers were singing and dancing down the hallway to broadway tunes, but I will say that the day was put to much better use than it would have if I focused my energy on frowning. Sometimes all it takes is a deep breath to refocus on the important things. Keeping in mind that you always have control over that 90% makes the 10% feel miniscule.

And, if I may get a little existential here, your 90% may just influence someone else's 10.

He smell-ed of Old Spice and cinnamon.

2010-02-04T08:06:00.001-08:00

In the spirit of the upcoming holiday, I wanted to share a story. If it seems that this story has been somewhat romanticized, that’s because it has been. To me, there is no greater love story than that of my parents.

I imagine not many relationships begin in the waiting room of a drug and alcohol dependency rehabilitation clinic--healthy relationships, at least--but it is the setting of my parents’ beginning. My mother, a social worker who specialized in substance abuse, worked at the Fort Devens Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Clinic where she met with soldiers battling drug and alcohol addiction. My father, at the time, was a captain in the army, managing a troop of 125. As a ranking officer, it was his duty to make sure the men in his company were in the best physical and psychological condition. So, when he determined a few of his men were using, he took them directly to the clinic.

There, my mother, dressed in a turtleneck and pearls (she’s famous for her turtlenecks) greeted the Captain with a smile and offered him a cup of coffee while he waited for an update on the progress of his company men. He accepted, and watched as she carefully poured him a cup in the gray office kitchen. Quick side note: Why is it that everything clinical is gray? Nothing is ever black or white. Always gray. As if you can never be too sure about a clinical decorating decision. It is better to be left in a gray area than to risk being too bold, I guess.

Anyway, my father sat patiently in the gray waiting room, sipping stale coffee from a Styrofoam cup, flipping through an old issue of a magazine, stealing glimpses of my mother as she flitted around the small office.

He remembers her hair.

In fact, my father vividly remembers the first day he met my mother. It was her hair, he says, it was so long, and it kind of bounced when she walked--the kind of hair that you want to fall around you in a mane of softness when you kiss. My father has never been an indecisive man. No matter what the issue, he always takes a firm stand, and even if his position on a topic is utterly incorrect, he will defend his side until the death. He makes for a vicious opponent, and an unwaveringly loyal father and husband.

My mother, on cue, boldly states she does not remember the first day they met. It makes sense. She was practically betrothed to another man at the time. A great man. “He worshiped the ground I walked on,” she says. I believe it too. My mother is the type of woman that inspires that kind of love. She has a simplistic, natural beauty that is so humble and modest you can barely pinpoint what it is that makes her so radiant. It’s almost frustrating. You know she’s beautiful, but why? It is her nature to be understated. (If you can’t tell, I think the world of my parents.)

My mother does, however, vividly remember their first date. Newbury, Massachusetts, the UpDownstairs, dinner at 7. He has an infectious smile, she noted when I asked her about that day. It was like the room lit up when he smiled. To me, it sounds about right. I have always thought my father to be an influential, quite powerful man. It would only make sense that his smile would be as powerful as he is.

The two young lovers got lost in one another. They talked of books, and art, and philosophy. They shared dreams and pasts—things one doesn’t normally disclose on a first date. It was one of those first dates that movies should be made about. He made corny jokes, and she laughed—not because he was particularly funny, but because she knew he was making them for her. To her, his jokes were the love poems he would never write.

A gentleman, he pulled up to her apartment building and walked around to open the door for her. Graciously, she smiled and took his arm and the two walked to her front door where he gently brushed her long hair behind her ear. He let his fingers graze her cheek, lingering for a moment just below her chin before leaning in to kiss the apple of her cheek bone. His moves were slow and deliberate, as if he were performing a sacred ritual. She stood perfectly still, oddly patient, enveloped in a cloud of slow motion. He smelled of Old Spice and cinnamon and she inhaled as if taking a long drag from a cigarette, filling her lungs with him. They stood facing one another for a few silent moments before whispering good night.

“I’ll call you. We should definitely do this again sometime.”

A long wait by a silent phone.

Nothing.

Life returned to dull normalcy. The brain floods the being with the comfort of routine monotonous details so the sugary deliciousness of the extraordinary eventually fades. We waste away our lives forgetting the good stuff.

Like players in a tragicomedy performance, we flit around the stage, lost souls in search of our next line. As if suddenly we have discovered the pages have been ripped from the manuscript and we must improvise the rest. We create alternate endings and try out different scenarios, changing the scenery and the characters. But eventually, the ending materializes as nothing we could have ever created.

Eventually, the explanation arrived, but not before an engagement proposal, a break-up, and a decision to move a few hundred miles south. Love is cruel, love is kind, love is love.

To Be Continued...

Hop-ed, Dream-ed, Realiz-ed.

2010-02-03T10:13:00.000-08:00

Today, like any other day, is a day of unlimited potential. Anything can happen if you believe it can. Make today a day of hopes and dreams and realities.

Help yourself to an extra large slice of pumpkin pie...with whipped cream.
Find time to tell the people in your life how much they mean to you.
Start a tradition that your children will carry on when you're gone.
Relish the simple pleasures.
Kiss someone until passion leaks through your lips.
Trust in the possibility of the impossible.
Dust off your wings and make a promise to use them when the right breeze blows through.
Identify the things in your life to which you will remain loyal no matter what.
Ask the universe for something you think you deserve. Then work harder to deserve it.
Discover something magical about the world today.

pic: weheartit

Energiz-ed.

2010-01-29T08:55:00.000-08:00

Energy, defined as available power, exists in two forms: physical and spiritual. The physical energy is processed when we fuel our body with food and burn the calories as we perform tasks. Whereas, spiritual or emotional energy is processed when we fuel our body with experiences and use up our emotional and mental capacity. Essentially, physical energy is cellular; spiritual energy is "soul-ular".

At different points in our lives we dispense this soul energy in various ways--at the beginning of a new relationship, we invest a large chunk in our lover: discovering who we are together, exploring the feelings they inspire in us, and building a foundation of soulful connection so that eventually it is not as exhausting to co-exist. Other times we spend our energy on a passion; training for a marathon requires not only physical endurance, but a dedication of soul. We cannot commit to a goal without pooling our emotional energy and focusing on the end result.

However, I believe we have a finite amount of both types of energy; there is a limit, a point where we simply become exhausted, so it is important to learn how to spend your energy. Life is at it's best when we have found a way to invest our energy in different pursuits: family, passion, love, learning, friends, etc. In order to feel completely centered in life, we need to become efficient managers of our spiritual energy, to know when we can spend a little more in one area, and when we need to pull back and spend a little on ourselves. In essence, this is my attempt at a somewhat scientific explanation of the need for balance in one's life.

Ironically, it can be exhausting just trying to figure out where to spend our energy. But when we do get it right, the result is a blissful hum that resonates beyond our physical existence.

The result is peace.

pic: weheartit

Romance, Tim-ed out.

2010-01-27T14:18:00.001-08:00

Some evenings I sit with every intention of writing. The birds chirp outside as the smell of fresh rain wafts in through my bedroom window. I wait, and the words never come. Perhaps it is the idea of a computer that bothers me. Though it allows one to be more prolific—one’s hand can only move so fast—it does not have the romance of a large, loopy script scrawled on thick card stock. The clicking of the keys does not lend itself to the musical ear, nor does the blue glow from the screen do much for the aesthetic appeal of the pastime. I picture the ladies of old who would sit down at their writing desk, dip their quills in the thick dark ink pot and begin a brilliant letter with no other intention than to invite their neighbor to dinner. How formal life was then. We’ve done away with formality in exchange for productivity. A few hundred years ago, a woman would not dream of going down for breakfast until she had been laced into her corset. Even a few decades ago, leaving the house without a proper hat was a major faux pas. Today we go to the grocery store in pajamas and Ugg boots. Though I appreciate the opportunities time has granted for a woman such as myself, I also long for the days when life was simpler...and a little more romantic.

pic: weheartit

Thought, Challeng-ed.

2010-01-21T13:43:00.000-08:00

Last night I attended the second meeting of my newly founded book club, which I must say is quickly becoming the highlight of my social calendar. It is a rare occasion that a group of women in their twenties can get together and inspire stimulating conversation that does not include an evaluation of whether or not 'he's just not that into you.' (The minute someone suggests that book, I'm out!)

Anyway, this month's pick was a novel by Kathryn Stockett, The Help, which tells the story of three women living in Jackson, Mississippi, during the brink of the civil rights movement. Two black maids and one white wanna-be journalist tell a heart-warming story about what it's like to live on the outside of social norms. I highly recommend it for its innovative treatment of a frequently visited topic and for its general humanistic appeal.

Throughout our discussion, the topic of activism vs. progressive came up (quite appropriate for the week of MLK's birthday). We struggled to define both terms and essentially came up with the following:

An progressivist is a forward thinker, someone who challenges the status quot, but does not take action to change the behaviors of others.

An activist is one who takes a stand for his/her beliefs and works to change the attitude or behavior of others in order to reach a goal.

A ring of women sitting on couch pillows in a Manhattan apartment suddenly began to judge themselves. Could any of them even consider themselves progressivists? What were they doing in a world, that although changed since the time period of the current month's book selection, still harbors inequality in tiny pockets across its surface? Sometimes we forget that just because we're one, we can't join together to create many.

What would you do if you had the power of many?

Imperfect, perfect-ed.

2010-01-14T11:12:00.000-08:00

My sister always jokes that I want the greatest life that has ever existed. Every time someone brings us flowers, I make a comment about always wanting fresh cut flowers in the house to brighten up the rooms. I make lists of books I think will enrich my life. I wade through thousands of slides, looking for a piece of art to put over my bed, but never can decide on just one. I choose what I eat not based on nutritional value or caloric content, but by how pleasurable it feels on the tongue, how satisfying it is. Sometimes I think I spend so much time trying to create the perfect life that I forget about all the perfectly imperfect things that make life so beautiful.

Was it wrong to want all of these things in my life? Perhaps not at all. In a way, I believe they all stand for something greater—-a material representation of things that are difficult to identify and nearly impossible to recreate. The books may stand for the knowledge and enlightenment I actively seek throughout my life. The flowers may represent a simple, natural beauty I long for in all aspects of being. The sweets and fresh fruit and delicious, satisfying meals are the ultimate basic pleasures—a way of indulging the senses, exploring a realm of delectable treats.

Through all of this, the writing has always been there. An outlet, a pastime, a love. And perhaps, if all else disappears—if the books are all read, the flowers wilt and die, the food looses its taste, the writing will still be there to live, to love me back. Because, after all, I've perfected imperfect.

Life, Interrupt-ed.

2010-01-13T07:04:00.001-08:00

I think your twenties are …

I have trouble filling in this blank. Horrifying, Awful, Confusing, Frustrating, Amazing, Brilliant, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?

The truth is, no matter how much we want to deny it, we don’t have a f***ing clue what we’re doing. And like a sick joke, the more we try to figure it out, the more lost we become. As if we are wandering in the woods and the harder we try to find a clearing, the more entangled in the brush we become.

Take me for example. I graduated high school with a plan. I would move as far away as possible, major in journalism and travel the world, eventually settling down to write a few best-selling novels and dote on my fabulously handsome husband, and three brilliant kids. There, it was settled.

And I really had myself fooled. My first year at college I stumbled through writing courses and mass communications electives, until one brilliant advisor suggested I switch my focus to Public Relations. “It’s journalism with parties.” I like people, I figured. So, with a swift flick of the pen, and a few red tape hurdles, I had moved over to the dark side.

Three years later, I still foolishly believed I had it all figured out. Then, I blinked and it was spring semester of my senior year and time for me to decide what to do post-graduation and suddenly I was terrified. I knew I could move home and take some time off, but after making an executive decision four years ago to move as far away as I could get, this seemed counterintuitive. But I did. Now the dreaded question was sputtering out of every mouth, “what will you do now that you’ve graduated?” Aka “what will you do with your life, you uninspired, lazy bum?”

That was the problem, though. I had no idea what would make me happy. I knew that really good chocolate, and long runs, and time with my two dogs put a smile on my face. I knew that I was never happier than when traveling to new places and exploring new cities, but I also knew that now, more than ever, my family was where my heart felt lightest.

One thing that has never changed is my love of writing. When I’m happy, I write. When I’m sad, I write. When I feel just about any emotion at all, I write. This is my way of figuring out who I am.

So, I figured that there would be no better way to untangle the convoluted mess that is my life plan than by writing about how truly messy life gets in your twenties.

What luck I have. I graduated just at the low point of the greatest economic downturn in the past 20 years. Jobs that had been filled since the birth of companies were suddenly being eliminated to cut costs. Two years earlier I could have had my pick of any job I desired (that is, of course, if I could have decided what it is I wanted to do), and expected a salary that I might actually be able to live off of. Now, I spent four months searching the corners of every job site, e-mail blasting every contact I had ever acquired, stuffing my resume into the hands of any casual acquaintance, and dressing up for interviews across the state…All without a single offer.

Although it was incredibly liberating to spend a summer without a single responsibility besides eventually waking up at some point in the afternoon, I started to go somewhat batty. One particularly beautiful July evening, I went for a long run. It was one of those perfect evenings when you are so consumed by the way the light penetrates the delicate green canopy that three miles turns into four, and before you know it, you are in a part of the neighborhood that you’ve never seen before. It was this evening that I decided to run a half-marathon. I took on my training with the same energy one might devote to a new job, and so I spent many a summer evening jogging around the neighborhood burning off calories and frustration.

It wasn’t until late September that my childhood best friend’s father called with a job opportunity. There was an opening at his company and he thought I’d be a perfect fit for the position. I specifically remember this phone call coming after a three day stretch of wearing the same pajamas and never once leaving the house. It was time for a job.

Everyone always tells you that you can make anything happen, that if you really put your mind to something, you can achieve anything. They leave out the part about how hard finding something to put your mind to can be.

All my life I’ve wanted something big. I’ve always known I was destined for greatness, or at least that I would lead a great life. And although I feel very blessed, there are times when I just simply feel lost. I imagine many feel this way from time to time. I think my biggest frustration is that I feel uninspired. My biggest dream in life is to be inspired and inspirational. To move and to make people want to move. To shake things up, get people thinking, doing, acting, changing.

Time to make moves. Time to figure it out again. Time to for a little inspiration...

Resolv-ed.

2010-01-04T12:31:00.000-08:00

Let's start a resolution revolution. No more of this eat healthy, work out, and learn a foreign language crap. We all know that you won't keep at it unless it really means something to you. And because I've never met anyone who's New Year's resolution was to fail to keep their resolutions, I'm here to help.

First, be specific. It is not enough to resolve to "work out more in 2010." Sorry, but you might as well pull your fat jeans to the front of the closet cuz it ain't happenin'. You want something you can measure. Start by defining 'more.' Give it a mileage, a training goal, a pound decrease, anything that you'll be able to track. And give it a timeline while you're at it.

1. Run a half-marathon by the end of June. If you're lucky, try the full thing by November.

Give yourself some motivation. Another popular one: 'budget better.' How much are we saving here? And why?

2. Put away 10% of every pay check to save for a down payment on a condo, a vacation, a steak dinner after you complete resolution #1...

Next, make your NYR relevant...

3. Read Le Monde instead of the NYTimes on Tuesdays & Thursdays. Keep a vocab list of the words you didn't know. Use your new vocabulary on that trip you saved for thanks to resolution #2.

Lastly, make your New Year's Resolution personal. Only copy from your neighbor if it makes sense for you. Sure, their list may look like the beginnings of the perfect life, but is it your perfect life?

4. Be more thoughtful (send notes to friends when they least expect it, tell Mom you love her whenever you call, hold the door for strangers).

5. Revise your resume by March. Perfect timing for the beginnings of a new job search.

If I may offer one more piece of advice...write them down on a srap of paper and tuck it in your wallet. Pull it out every month or so to keep yourself on track.

Wishing you all a happy, healty, and prosperous 2010! I'd love to hear your NYR's. Inspire me.

pic: weheartit

Imagin-ed.

2009-12-30T11:05:00.000-08:00

"Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence." -- H.L. Mencken

What an interesting thought, dear Mencken. I considered this for a while and decided I surely agree. Love requires the ability to look at things through a rose colored glass. If we were only capable of seeing the hard facts, love would never be possible. Love is not something to be analyzed, or synthesized, or measured. Love is something to be created, enjoyed, and shared. Though without the great intelligent thinkers of our world we would lack some of our greatest conveniences (electricity, automobiles, the concept of gravity), without the great lovers of the world we would have nothing.

In essence, I'd rather live in a fairy tale for the rest of my life than be the smartest one in reality. Bring on the fantasy, the once upon a time, the imaginary world of beautiful, sweet, tender love. You can take your calculus and your literary analysis and your physics. As yet, there is no formula in chemistry that produces more happiness than love. So keep your algebra, your rocket science, your botany, your astronomy. I'll take the love...even if it is all a dream.

pic: weheartit