Done and Dusted

I have made my decision. I've applied to school number one's online history degree. I'm sure this comes as no surprise considering all the previous gushing of said school!

The transcripts have been requested and are in the process of being sent to the school's admissions office. Then, I'll have to wait on their decision. The waiting is the hardest part.

I'm not fretting. The school has rolling admissions and a pretty liberal acceptance policy. I'm just worried and full of wonder for what's ahead.

Now to find the dosh to pay for this damn degree.

Let's Make History Happen

I've noticed lately that my options have opened up tremendously on this journey I call "completing my Bachelor's degree". Whenever that will happen. After much thought, I have chosen to complete the last half of my studies through distance learning. It was a difficult decision to make. I enjoy going to school. But the physicality of attending grew harder and time constraints have become tighter. I simply had to find another way to make this successful.

What has worked in my academic favor is that many schools, especially highly respectable brick and mortar establishments, are offering more degrees through distance learning. In the past, it seemed all you could major in online was Business Administration, Criminal Justice, and Psychology. Now, the possibilities and choice of majors are becoming endless. Also, the world of scholarship and grant opportunities has widened compared to just a few years ago when us non-traditional students didn't really have many avenues out there for financial support. All in all, a good thing.

So, after looking into six colleges that either offered my degree, or something similar, I chipped away and narrowed them down to three.

The number one choice has firmly become my dream school. To my surprise, I just only recently, accidentally, discovered the existence of their online program. A top 100 university, solid New England institution, with some serious name recognition. More importantly, an excellent choice of courses. It has everything going for it. What's the catch? The price tag (ouch!). But I have a feeling that this is the "one". Another positive thing to consider is this school has a lot of its own scholarship and grant opportunities available to returning students.

The number two choice is the first (I think) serious brick and mortar university to offer my major online. For this reason alone, there will always be a place in my heart for the school. That it had an excellent selection of courses to choose from also made it appealing. The only problem is the rigorous acceptance policy and that they allow only a few students into the program each year. A little too confidence crushing for me. Plus, the deadline to apply now is tight. Another thing that worries me is the semester structure. The winter and summer sessions are seriously lacking and not conducive to finishing my degree quicker. That alone is a very important thing to consider.

The number three choice is a really great Midwestern school. The college offers an excellent choice of courses and a nice semester structure. It also has an easy acceptance policy. Sort of a safety school.

I seriously hope I can concentrate, ask a lot of pertinent questions, and get all the information needed without resorting to rash and impulsive decisions; of which I am well known for. There are a handful of schools to choose from, but I know that the final say will happen during the admissions process, when for once, in my academic journey, someone else will have the final say.

I realize I'm up against some challenges here completing the last half of my degree online. The school's appellation is going to have to work extra hard because of this. The name of a school can sometimes raise eyebrows, which is one of the reasons I chose to avoid the "big three" that are heavily advertised. In my experience, I've been cognisant of people's views of online education, so my choices are based on a set criteria, which contributed to the difficultly of making it to this point. First, I refused to bend and insisted on a certain major, and never budged. It was never an option to settle on the limited majors that until recently, most online school programs offered. Last, an important factor was to have the degree attached to an esteemed brick & mortar institution (which all three of my choices are). This proved to be a difficult task in the beginning, but things are now definitely shaping up in both these departments.

Good things happen to those who wait, right? We'll see.

Symmetry in Commotion

Being a steady creature of habit, naturally, this time of the year is very hard for yours truly. It's an uncomfortable transition that goes further than learning to write a new year of date. Even as a child, the concept of a permanent change of date seriously confused the hell out of me thus throwing me into a psychological tailspin. The anxiety could, at times, be very intense. Of course, this time of the year is also laden with other's questions of "what did you learn this past year?" which can really add to life's bubbly cauldron. Well, there's lots to reflect on and it can be either promising or a huge major downer of realization that the things you expected and anticipated the year prior didn't come to fruition or didn't happen under the terms you originally set out to accomplish them by. Such is the case somewhat now for moi.

I don't believe in new years resolutions. They are more like new years revolutions. They start out bold and full of certainty, but after the body count and disposed regime, the problems of the country usually aren't fixed anyway. This holds true for resolutions. Your problems are not going to be solved in the month of January alone. Besides, this is the month of finishing up business, not beginning it. Let's see - I don't smoke, so there's no use in giving that up. I don't believe in diets, so that too is of no use. In fact, I understand and welcome a bit of pudge in the early winter years. I'm probably he only religious person who reveres human nature and animal instincts and thus realizes that it's perfectly normal to have a gut during the cold season. Even bears hibernate and since they are the wisest ones in the Native north, perhaps we should follow their lead. Without the unnecessary mauling of others, naturally.

I rung in the New Year while in bed. I was three hours behind the normal time my body clock celebrates and so midnight had no meaning, no comprehension for an East coast girl vacationing on the West coast. As far as I was concerned, it was 9pm Pacific time that brought in 2008. Try telling that to the person who felt it necessary to scream "HAPPY NEW YEAR" out on the street at the top of their lungs. I don't think they share my same beliefs about how my body clock ticks or else they would have let me sleep.

Since I do suffer from symmetry and numerical based OCD, 2008 is sure to be quite the lucky year. At least in my stressed out brain. I am disappointed that I won't be able to have any monumental events happening this year on 08-08-08 and I don't see myself competing in the summer Olympics either to secure those historical numbers in my destiny. That's always been the ideal date, even and symmetrical. Oh well, better luck next year 09-09-09.

I do hope that whatever fate decides to lay on my doorstep this year, that it will be life changing in a positive way. I really do need some right now.

Starring Gramercy P. Riff as Herself

Drawing inspiration from a humorous post by the fabulous Noble Savage (who was inspired from another blog post), I am going to embark on a personal project, a journey if you will. I am going to reread two books from my preteen/young teen years. They were among my favorites and the first two that came to mind when I submitted a comment to her post. I had many favorites growing up. Quite a few. In fact, I could be found with my nose in a book most of the time. But these two came first to mind and there simply has to be a reason for them to linger so freely around my conscious state.

I didn't have what you would call an ideal childhood and books were my saving grace. I could escape from all my troubles and not have to worry about life outside of the pages for a nice block of time. The best was that in addition to being free on loan from the library, my school had age appropriate tomes in each classroom from which the students could "borrow" as needed. I put borrow in full on finger quotes because now in my thirties, I still have to return a few of them back to Mrs. Sadie's fifth grade classroom.

The books I quoted and chose to reread are Judy Blume's Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself, and Deenie. After reading Nobel Savage's post, I got caught up in the idea of learning why these books originally clicked with me. I want to look at the pages with adult eyes and sort of understand my psyche way back when. Why these books? How come I chose them off the shelf? A voracious reader, I did have an air of pickiness, but what was the appeal of these particular two? I was a fan of Blume, having read her work at fairly age appropriate times. Yet, I never bothered to read the ever popular Tiger Eyes, and Are You There God, it's Me Margaret found its way to me after I had started puberty. Which wasn't so hard since I developed breasts at the age of eleven.

Since I will be airplane bound tomorrow, I think this is the perfect time to start rereading and revisiting these stories all over again. Especially since I'm flying an airline that utilizes only a few movie screens for everyone to goggle at in cattle class. It will also give me time to reflect on what it was about them that appealed greatly to me.

It's hard to say what I will discover from this project. It could come to naught and I might discover that I was a perfectly well adjusted child in choosing my reading material. Besides, it's more in the spirit of wonder. But, there is a bit of interest at what my mind might pick up on. Either way, it's definitely going to be fun to revisit these books.

I Was Born to Live Up to My Name

I've been tagged by the Noble Savage to do this meme. I've been feeling some brain drain with my posts of late, so it's nice to do something community wide and fun. Since I don't know many in the blogging community, I'm going to break the rules and not tag anyone back.

List one fact, word or tidbit that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your first or middle name. You can theme it to your blog or make it general. Then tag one person for each letter of your name.

T: Tenacious. I'm stubborn to the core and would cut my nose off to spite my face in a heartbeat. Definitely a family trait.

A: Anglo-American. My father is from England, my mother a mix of English and Native American. I am truly my own worst enemy.

B: Bookworm. I love to read. Aliterates confuse the hell out of me.

I: Independent. Sometimes this bites me squarely in the arse. For the most part, it works to plan. I like doing my own thing.

T: Traveler. In the last five years, I have seriously been infected with the travel bug.

H: History Major. I'm forever working towards my Bachelor's degree.

A: Animal Kingdom. I'm a huge animal lover.

Euro-Itch Satiated!

I'm heading to Copenhagen, Denmark!

And just to confirm that I am not of a relaxing temperament when it comes to traveling abroad, I purposely chose an flight, which by default, has a 22 hour layover in…Madrid, Spain! In addition to these two countries, I am considering day tripping to Sweden. I've got lots to plan ahead of me and a lot on my vacation plate right now.

I am flying Iberia Airlines leaving Sunday evening, November 18, and returning on Sunday, November 25.

Why Copenhagen? Why not!? It's always been a city I've been interested in visiting. Plus, it fits in with my love of studying the 19th century royals. King Christian IX of Denmark is considered by many to be the "father-in-law of Europe". Currently, almost every head of a European royal house boasts direct lineage from he and his wife, Queen Louise. It probably doesn't come as a surprise then, that I'll be making the palace rounds. I hope to make a stop in the town of Ballerup to see a museum exhibit about Olga Alexandrovna too.

As for the excitement of Madrid? Well, I was never what you would call a "Spain person", so when the opportunity presented itself, I jumped at it. If only to get a little taste of the country.

The biggest plus is that I found a killer deal on both my flight and hotel. Orbitz had a $200 coupon off of the cost of international hotels, so my original cost plan went drastically down and I was able to add an extra day to my trip. For Madrid, I'm going the hostel route, and I managed to snag a 2 person room. Not bad. I can handle one brief night, and there will only be the possibility of one other stranger, the same gender, along side me.

I wish I was more proactive last year when I went abroad and posted frequently about my experiences. I could have focused on some of the little things that are burned in my mind, but not really worth striking up a conversation about. Not to mention, my thoughts about gushing have changed dramatically and have become more focused. That said, it's hard to know what kind of access to the Internet I will have to know if I can pull that kind of blogging off. Not to mention the time constraints. Still, looking back, had I found a more effective way to reflect back on what I had experienced, I would have some of the more intimate things to share. Anywho, it's too late for tears, right? Right.

I'm so full of excitement and I'm counting down the days in anticipation. I will give updates as I find things out, and post a loose itinerary when the time comes.

Maybe if I Pretend to be Old...

I won't know what to expect. Welcome 35.

Sigh.

Angry Feast

Tonight was a night out at the Scandinavia House for a screening of the 1988 film, Babette's Feast. Excellent movie. If you have the opportunity to watch, I most definitely recommend. The story is centered geographically in the Jutland region of Denmark. Yes, there are subtitles, but you won't get lost in the sauce of the storyline. I promise! The synopsis is a bit similar to the film Chocolat in that the main character, with a mysterious background, arrives in a remote and insular village only to magically transform it later on. Complete with morality challenges. In Babette's Feast however, it is in the form of an exquisite meal for the community paid for by lottery winnings.

Another plus of movie night at SH is that if you order a coffee and a dessert together, showing your movie ticket, it comes out to just $2.00 total. That's surprisingly cheap by Manhattan standards. I lovingly selected a huge ginger cookie on offer from Eli's, and was immediately disappointed at how stale it tasted. However, the coffee was pure Scandinavia - dark and strong.

Now here is where it gets angry. I am one who silently (and sometimes verbally) flips out when a person's cell phone begins ringing at the most inappropriate times, especially when the culprit doesn't answer or seem to realize how much of a nuisance they are causing. So, you can imagine how much I nearly died of embarrassment when my own mobile started ringing during the film.

Normally, I keep it on vibrate and am rarely one to catch a call on time. Of course, that night was, it seemed, the one and only time I mistakenly turned the phone on and it began ringing well into the movie. Keep in mind that I was in the second row, right smack dab in the middle, and wasn't even aware at first that it was my phone. Since it sounded oddly close by, it wasn't until like, the tenth ring that I fully realized the evildoer was me. Trying to sneak into my purse to turn it off, thus hoping to conceal the evidence, all was apparent to several audience members directly in front who the guilty party was. You would have thought I had just eaten a baby dipped in BBQ sauce!

Sigh

A For Effort

The past few weeks I had been getting frustrated that I hadn't received my grade for my class yet. It's interesting to remember how confident I was about the class I took last semester. How I simply waited for the transcript to arrive in the mail, confirming what I had already suspected, the wonderful A we all cherish so greatly. ESC's website has an odd and maze-like interface. In order to get from point A to point B, one has to log in and out of several different screens. So, after much searching around, I accidentally stumbled upon the final letter grade for the Native American history class that recently came to a close.

I got an A.

I should be happy, and on a lot of levels, I am. However, as I discussed previously, I'm not 100 percent certain I feel I earned it. In the professor's eyes, I did work hard. I confess that I turned in a mean paper, which the professor stated was "a very creative, well-written and timely research paper". He also pointed out that my sources were "very interesting". True. It's not everyday one finds such publications titled "Counselling the Inupiat". Not to mention, even though I missed a few class discussions, the majority of the ones I contributed to I gave well thought out responses. I feel anyway.

Nevertheless, I should look at this as a learning experience and respect the academic slump I was in the last few months and stop being so hard on myself. If I were such a piss poor student, like I was convinced I was, I wouldn't have got the grade I did.

Now I can order my transcript in confidence, have it sent off to my future Alma mater, and hopefully, get the credit towards my intended degree. At this point, I just want it over with.

There's No Place Like Home(s)

This weekend past, I had an inexplicable urge to visit family back in CT. It was hard to pinpoint just why I had this urgency, but on some subconscious level, I had an intuition that my aunt was heading back to Florida, and this had a lot to do with the way I was feeling. By Friday afternoon, the desire became a need. Acting on my gut feelings, I found myself packing, purchasing tickets, and leaving within a few hours of my inner confirmation. The visit proved to be great, and the journey to and fro was incredibly stress free. Climbing aboard an empty Amtrak train is a rare sight for those who travel the northeastern corridor on a weekend.

This visit also affirmed something that has been gnawing inside of me for awhile -- that you can call several places home. I think I have finally become comfortable enough to allow my visits to my mom's house to be called "going home". I fully realize that I have my own abode, and that it will forever hold the top spot over any other locale. This has been a battle that has raged inside of me for some time.

What caused these conflicted feelings for so very long? Probably all of the naysayers who were present in my life when I moved out of state in the first place. Those who thought that moving to a new area of the country was crazy, a criminal form of abandonment, and that I would fail and be back "home", tail between my legs, within a certain amount of time. I was foolish for listening to them, but on many levels, was so unprepared with the challenges of my move that I let them get to me. All of them. Over the last year, I have fallen into a nice comfort zone with the realization that one can indeed call many places home. The ten year mark of the move had a lot to do with my new outlook as well. At first, I fought these feelings tooth and nail. Then I gave in as part of a quiet reluctance. Finally, I accepted the idea and developed a confidence around my feelings.

On another note, I dropped in to see both my father and grandmother as well. It was nice to pack in as many family visits as possible since I always seem to separate the two sides (mother and father) into individual visits. Nothing personal. Not at all, really. For some odd reason, it just always seems to work out that way. I simply adore my grandmother and thoroughly enjoy spending time with her. A modern woman with whom anyone can dish with about the trials and tribulations of today's events, I often ask her to discuss a memory or two of her childhood, The Blitz, and the past in general. I do this because I never really bothered to with my other grandparents, and I regret it sorely.

So, this past weekend, I went from home to home, and then back to my home. There's no place like home(s), where ever you happen to be.

Pushing Issue

Tonight, while shopping at the Brooklyn Target store (and for once grabbing a cart with normal working wheels), I got into a shouting match with some big fat bitch (hereby called BFB). Oh, did I mention she was ugly too? Apparently, I ran over her foot. I really don't know how I could have run over those great big giant pontoons of hers, seeing that it was so damn hard to miss them. Especially since her fat ass sneakers were so damn white, like over bleached game show host teeth.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I get a bit anxious when shopping at big department stores. I'm all cloistered there in downtown Manhattan where mom and pop stores abound. So, getting inside a store like Target opens the flood gates of my heart, but ceases to allow my brain to function properly. While trying to round a corner into the soda aisle, her cart was in the way. I stopped, waited, and saw her roll her eyes and give me a snotty "Mmmm, mmmm" kind of look. I figured I would inch my way around her, with no such luck. Finally, I waited for an in and went with it. First, a look of disgust, then a shaking of the head. Finally, as I was already rolling my cart down the aisle, BFB mustered the courage to push issue with yours truly.

"You didn't see my foot there!?" BFB called out to me.

"No. I. Didn't", I replied firmly. My mouth was sealed with a confident smirk, but my heart was beating a mile a minute over the possible outcome of this angry exchange.

"You thought you could just run me over, didn't you!?" Her stance was in a position which indicated to me that she was about to do a sassy and overly gestured zig-zagging three-snaps-up with her fingers.

BFB truly believed in her heart of hearts that her large-and-in-charge presence combined with her loud voice would turn me into some shrinking violet. It didn't. In fact, it only gave me the confidence to be loud in return.

"I didn't run over your foot!!" I called back to her. BFB was now staring at me as if I were going to tremble in her presence. I repeated myself, "I didn't run over your foot!!" Then, I did the most bold thing possible. I guffawed and strolled away with my head high.

BFB trudged off muttering sweet nothings to herself. I, full of satisfaction from my victory, had immediate thoughts of evilness run throughout my brain. I had it in mind to approach her at the checkout and stomp on her foot all while shouting "I didn't run over your foot!!"

Revenge fantasies are sweet. But on some occasions, only in your mind.

My Moment of Zen

A few weeks ago, I bid for and won a 30GB Creative Zen Vision: M. I am so doing a happy dance over my win considering it was snagged at $100 less than it currently retails for. For the past two years, I've owned a Zen Micro, which I love, love, love - but it only played music. However, I could never hide my disappointment that had I waited to purchase my Zen Micro just a few months later, a Creative product with superior video capabilities would be made available instead. But let's not dwell, okay?

After several trips to visit family and friends, I grew tired of those lulls one faces while waiting on the bus in I-95 traffic, or being held up for whatever reasons never given by Amtrak and Metro North. After the novelty of reading wears off, you really crave something more interesting than staring at your fellow passengers. Last year's return home from Europe also produced much internal frustration due to the lack of in-flight entertainment available to us schlubs in cattle class. Really now, there are only so many times a human being can endure You, Me & Dupree over and over again. Hopefully now, no more!

So far, I have been transferring my music over to this player with excellent results. Plus video and photos, which are the real reasons for purchasing this little guy. As for the videos, I've been downloading them like a banshee and pretty much taxing out my poor laptop in the process. I think it's going to need a spa break in Baden-Baden really soon. I'm also beginning to fear that an intervention is in store should my family and friends see the amount of British television, documentaries, travel and cooking shows I watch.

Type A Negative

I’m sick and tired of being a little miss goody-two shoes.

I’ve just passed in my research paper for class. I know that deep in my heart of hearts that I haven’t really truly given my all to this class. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the class, nor the material. In fact, I have been dying to take a Native American history class for ages. I mean, since my dream is to turn in my senior dissertation on Native Americans who have emigrated to Europe, you would think this would be such a great starting point, a veritable springboard, right?

So, after much soul searching, I think I’ve figured it all out. I finally realized what has been gnawing inside of me for some time. Are you ready? I am simply sick of going to school. There, I said it. I have reached a breaking point where it’s all coming down to the fact that I just want to get it over with. Another factor is that since I am only half way through, I have been approaching it with difficulty all this time. I’m trying so hard to be good. Well, I’m sick of being good.

I had tried college right after high school and failed miserably. At the time, I just wasn’t cut out for it. I needed time -- me time. However, deep down inside, there was that gnawing little feeling. I knew that sometime in my life I had to get my bachelor's degree. Even if some view it as only a piece of paper, and many don’t work in the field they studied for, it’s still an accomplishment. Later on in my life, I decided it was time to go back. As a barometer, I took one class, to see if I was cut out for the responsibility. I got an A. Let me tell you, it was so damn exhilarating, and a sign that, yes, I can do it after all. That A eventually did me in. Afterwards, I couldn’t turn back. What happened afterwards was a lesson in “type A” studentry (is that even a word?). I strived for the highest grade possible in each and every class. That was my supreme goal, and in the end, it became the only means necessary for my education.

Lately, I find myself just wanting to piss around and do nothing. Or, do other things that require my full attention. Last year, I took a wonderful sewing class. It was nice to start that hobby back up, since I so love to sew. But, there was that educational "do it!" cloud that always seemed to hang over my head, proving it to be so difficult to relax and go with the flow without thinking of how many more discussions I had to contribute to on our forum. Or how I had to head back to the library, yet again to pick something up for my research paper.

These past few months, I found myself doing it again. I admit that it took me much later this time to put a flame under my ass and get going on my paper. I had the subject matter all figured out. That wasn’t the problem. I culled my research. Again, no problem. I admit, I do write a mean research paper. It was the sitting down and actually typing my paper out that put me in a mental quandary.

So, I sabotaged myself by turning in my paper (days) late and at the same time realized that I hadn’t turned in the second assignment, which was simply to outline exactly what my paper was about. A stupid move, since I will be penalized; and even more stupid is that I had the information all this time. And all this time I’m fighting the feeling that I’m not getting an A. I’m trying to fight the fact that I do not deserve an A, and it happens to be in one of the most important classes of my college career. This class is part of my major. This class will eventually be the catalyst for my senior dissertation.

Is it the end of the world? No, certainly not. Is it time to re-think my approach towards my educational goals and get out of this slump? Yes, most certainly.

Wildenstein Gallery - Monet Exhibit

Yesterday was the first of the "summer Friday's" that I get to enjoy this year. My workplace allows each employee seven Friday half-days (paid) from Memorial Day to Labor Day in which to choose from. I got to leave at 1 o'clock, and headed uptown to the Wildenstein Gallery for the Claude Monet exhibit. I found out about this exhibit from a travel forum, and thankfully, got there a week before it was to end.

Anyone who was around yesterday knows that it was hot, hot, hot. In the city, it's even more of a killer, and being uptown near all the traffic and all those emissions, made it absolutely unbearable. I didn't realize there would be a long line to get in. And standing there waiting with the sun beaming down on you, makes one even more irritable. Especially once they get inside and are herded like cattle throughout the whole entire exhibit. Regardless, it was exquisite and I'm glad to have gone.

So, there were sixty, count 'em sixty, Monet's on display! These spanned from his early works right on down to the later ones. A few of the later works somewhat resembled Jackson Pollack's (to me anyway) and were far removed from the Monet's that many (including myself) are accustomed to seeing. The later works were not really to my taste, but still, there were some classics and some drop dead gorgeous paintings.

Back to the forum. I had to laugh when one poster accused some of the pieces in this exhibit of being "not of museum quality". What!? Since when is a Monet not museum quality? Okay, there are bound to be some that aren't to one's taste, but, come on!

I had to laugh when a forum member posted this in response to that silliness: "Suddenly it's all very clear . . . Maybe next time you're in town they can trot out a nice Thomas Kinkade for you."

Another highlight of the day, was that I discovered I was near Le Pain Quotidien, a Belgian bakery/coffeehouse. Since I love all things Belgium, and I wanted to try this place out, I figured I'd stop in and grab a sweet. By this point, I was too tired to eat in, but I took note of the atmosphere (they utilize a communal table for dining) and made a mental note that I would definitely stop in again sometime soon. I ended up ordering an Pain au Chocolat with a Brussels tea. Both were lovely, and I need to practice my future orders in French. There were some French speaking staff behind the counter, and frankly, I felt a little self conscious that I don't speak any language other than English. And I hardly manage that with considerable ease!

I Bageled an Onion

Let me explain.

Last night, I took a Knife Skills I workshop at the Institute of Culinary Education (ICE). I originally came across the school several months back when I was interested in taking a wine course. Over time, that idea changed and the want of some basic cooking classes took over. I was drawn to the knife skills class because, although I know how to cook (very well, thankyouverymuch), I'm not too comfortable with your standard run of the mill chopping and dicing. I handle a knife as if I'm auditioning for a role in a horror flick. I hack into things with reckless abandonment.

Our instructor, chef Norman Weinstein, was superb. Not only was he incredibly helpful, but funny as well. I really learned a lot and grew more comfortable with the knives we used. Having hands the size of a Barbie Doll, I always figured that smaller would be better for me. Not the case. We worked with an 8" chef's knife only once. That was because Mr. Weinstein wanted us to compare it to the 10" chef's knife he had us use for the remainder of the class. Turns out, he was so right about that.

The techniques I learned last night I think will always be with me, but I know I'll have to practice a lot. In addition to learning the bagel cut (a straight saw cut to the side), and both the high and low technique; the key word of the night was "follow-through". Like in golf. Plus, we were given a handout which detailed what we learned in class to refresh our memories. Also, I can proudly say that I have finally chopped an onion without tears streaming from my eyes. That, my friends, is quite an achievement!

Another thing I liked was Weinstein's honesty about what one needs to stock a basic kitchen. As a professional, he could easily have said we needed tons of knives. Nope. One only needs a few to handle the job.

So, because of my happiness in the course, I am definitely looking into taking another knife skills class. There are four on offer. I learned that you don't need to take them in any order as they are not skills orientated, but usage orientated.

Sophisticated, Escape Artist, New Wave Puritan, Love Bug

These are the traits that identify me for mood, fun, habits, and love.

Take the quiz for yourself and find out your personality traits at Imagini.

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June Shelter Duty 2007

With mixed feelings, last night was the end of shelter duty. Until next fall. I always leave each year with a feeling of hope that our guests will finally find suitable housing. A few of these people have been with us for several years now. That's not good, or promising, and it can really bring you down when you see their faces the next fall.

The person I volunteered with last night had the oddest bedside manner. She arrived after I did, and not introducing herself, first demanded the keys so that she could get something to eat. When she came back, she offered up no information about who she was and answered every single one of my "get to know you" questions with one or two words. That was the tone for the rest of the night. A total snobby dud. When she had stepped out for her food, I made a call to the coordinator to tell me her story. Turns out, she has been doing the shelter every month for five years. I have been doing the shelter for ten years, and never once had the pleasure (displeasure is more like it) of working with her.

All throughout the night, I tried initiating conversation several times to no avail. Finally, when I left the next morning, I said goodbye, and out of niceness, lied when I told her that it was nice working with her. Again, I got no response. Nothing. Anyone who knows me knows that I give a lot of people a chance, and that I am an incredibly understanding person. I have done shelter duty with people whom I didn't really mesh with. But, we always managed to make a go of the night.

I'm still scratching my head in confusion over this.

One good thing come out of it...no more Jane. I found out two weeks ago that she had another mental breakdown and has been removed for good. Thankfully, when she started up trouble again, we had some long timers volunteering that night who were able to keep the situation under control. My only regret is that I didn't tell the coordinator immediately that I didn't ever want her there. I had figured I'd wait until we spoke about arranging the next shelter night. Unfortunately, it didn't happen in time.

They Say 10 Years Makes You A Native

Well if that's the case, today, I have become just that.

Happy Anniversary to me!

In honor of the occasion, I bring you the stylings of Odyssey. Enjoy!

Lyrics here.

"Feed Me Gramercy!"

I’m trying my hand at plant ownership - again. Those who know me are well aware that I can’t seem to keep anything alive in that tenement trap. Blame a dry heating source and lack of direct sunlight, but it seems that the minute I bring any greenery inside, it curls up and dies a dog’s death within a matter of days.

Yesterday, on my way back from the doctor’s, I passed a floral shop that had little Venus fly traps outside. Intrigued, I stopped and inquired about the upkeep on such an interesting horticultural creature. I was told what sounded good to me – low light and no watering needed. Sounds like my kind of plant! So, you keep the top on this little guy to keep him moist. Once in awhile, you take the top off in order for him to catch bugs. This should be interesting.

Now, what do I name him? A plant certainly deserves a name.

I thought immediately of the movie - musical play - and remake Little Shop of Horrors and decided that naming him Audrey II or Seymour would be too cliché. Then, it came to me. Men are from Mars, women are from Venus. I’m going to be totally sexist and say that I identify a bug killing plant as male.

Mars it is.

Mars is my Venus fly trap’s name.

(Okay, that last bit sounded kind of naughty)

Humming Towards Insanity

There are four types of individuals.

1. Those who whistle

2. Those who hum

3. Those who whistle and hum

4. Those who so desperately want to go homicidal on 1, 2, and 3.


As you might have already guessed, I am in the number four category.

I am a devout magazine junkie, and the place I prefer to do business at is the magazine store in my neighborhood, which I stop in sometimes on my way home from work. Now, I've gotten much way better at managing my addiction, and I mostly browse whilst the young cute Middle-Eastern guy behind the counter flirts with me. Personally, I think it's a ploy on his part to get me to buy more, but since I'm forced to take it one day at a time with my habit, I just go along with the niceties.

The other day, whilst browsing, there he was – like a villainous superhero - The Hummer. This wasn’t your ordinary variety of offender. Like the ones who are humming away melodically on a happy, snappy tune. No, this was the worst of the lot. The down and dirty type. He was in the hum-a-few-bars-slow-and-randomly-way category of delinquent. And in a very low baritone voice I might add.

STOP HUMMING!!

Now, with the ones who hum away sing-songy like, you can just adjust your brain to tune them out. Make them background noise. With the type I faced the other day; you can’t really tell when the next verse is going to assault your eardrums. So you begin that long road to craziness trying to figure out when they will strike next. You even begin to think you are hearing them. And being in a store with roughly the square footage of my shoebox apartment, I couldn't get away from him.

I got so uncomfortable I just walked out. Yeah, just like that. Plus, he was real tall like and imposing, so I didn't have the courage to yell at him. To those who know about my magazine obsession, this was certainly no small feat.