More Fuzziness!!!

I am sorry, but I just need to share these little FUZZIES with everyone!!!! There is just too much cuteness for me to keep just for myself!

Hi My name is Marissa and I'm...

Addicted to top 10 Lists... Maybe its because I have a short attention span, or because of all those Communication classes, but my favorite format has to be the list! But to the point! As I was driving home from my unbelievably hot date with Gym tonight I found myself surrounded by a euphoric haze. What was the cause of this haze you may wonder? Although there were high levels of endorphins created during my spinning class I believe it more had to do with the glow created by each and every palm tree, roof, and bush plastered with Christmas lights. This experience inspired me to share with all of my loyal readers why I love the Holiday season.

1. Christmas decorations like said lights. This is a time for people to share their personal decorating style with the general public. There are the minimalists with simple candles in windows, those with Blow up Reindeer and Frosty's , and those wholesome religious types (like myself until the age of 12) who choose to adorn their lawns with manger scenes including all the wise men, farm animals, and hay for authenticity. The way one chooses to decorate her lawn during the Holidays is like a window into the soul.

2. BAKING! I love baking, but during the general year often times feel pangs of guilt for such high fat, high sugar foods. Once Thanksgiving hits "It's a Holiday" becomes my ticket to baking and consuming whatever my little heart desires. Gingerbread houses, chocolate cherry cookies, cathedral ceilings, Pumpkin pies, you name it, I bake it.

3. My Santa Claus hat. I am a big hat person. What a fabulous excuse not to brush your hair! However, most times I can't pull off this look. However, who doesn't look good in a Santa hat?? NO ONE!!!! This acutally also applies to my red plaid apron and my technicolor red turtleneck sweater. Nothing says Christmas is here like said outfit.

4. Christmas Carols. I am a terrible singer. However, I love to sing. After working in retail during at least 2 Holiday seasons, I still can safely say I never get sick of Carols.

5. Christmas Postcards... I love these. What a great way to see pictures of growing families and people you rarely get to see! As well as a charming reminder of those you do!

6. The possibility of a white Christmas. Alright Floridians, I know this warm weather is comfortable for you... but you are really missing out! There is nothing better than waking up to the sound of silence and the smell of sizzling bacon, then you rollllll over and see nothing but white!!! I can't imagine waking up on Christmas morning and feeling hot. I can't wait for snow men, sleigh rides, and Fort building!!!!(This actually translates into a day filled with laying around, not showering, and possibly making cocoa).

7. Work Christmas Parties!!! I don't actually get one of these, but all my friends that work in offices have Work Christmas Parties!! I can't really imagine this other than to picture Bridget Jones singing on top of the piano, but I feel it would be fantastic!!!

8. Egg NOG! Egg Nog is actually quiete sickening. As a skim milk drinker, it is quite a leap into a whole new consistency, however like I previously mentioned "Its a Holiday!".

9. Rusty and Buttons- No one will know what I am talking about with the exception of one Caitlin Brady, but lets just say its a childhood favorite, quite a fabulous Christmas flick.

10. STOCKINGS!!! Thanks to my fabulous new Sister in Law- we now have jumbo personalized, hand knit stockings. Not only are they most adorable addition to our Fireplace EVER, they fit way more PRESENTS!!!!


Okay I love Christmas, its a fact, this will be one of many posts on the subject. But let me add that I love Chanukah as well. I really do. I love menorahs, the prayer, latkes... all of it. But alas, it is time for me to admit I am not a Jew... hence the Gentile focus.

And a partridge in a pear tree

During this season of Yuletide cheer and resolutions soon to be forgotten, I figure it would behoove me to share a few tips with my faithful readers. I am an excellent source of social grace, not because I generally possess it but because I am exceptionally sensitive to others' shortcomings. If you heed my advice I can guarantee that I will not fantasize about egging your house or forking your yard. In addition you will have the joyous satisfaction of having my seal of approval and being a Good Samaritan.

Without further ado, the 12 steps you can take toward me not wanting to egg your house:

1. Do not tape that Volvo commercial with that alien child telling that incoherent story about a man with a tiny head and make me watch it over and over (this should be a freebie)
2. When we are at dinner please do not ever answer the phone (unless you are waiting for a call about your mother's condition in the hospital)
3. Do not whine (especially if it is to get me to do something like vacuum)
4. Unless you are my mother, my teacher, or boss do not tell me what to do unless I ask
5. Do not vanish into thin air without any sort of explanation
6. Do not tell me something that you think I want to hear, say what you mean and MEAN it (this also should be a freebie, but apparently it is quite difficult)
7. Don't ever be rude to a restaurant server unless she is rude to you first (this actually applies to anyone in the service industry)
8. Do stop to admire at least a few pets and babies during your day to day life
9. Do offer to carry something for a little frail lady
10. Do exchange kind words with a few strangers per day
11. Do offer to get everyone in the room a beverage when you rise to get one for yourself
12. Do return phone calls, e-mails, and messages in a prompt manner, if I am reaching out to you it means I miss you and want to hear from you

Get Ready for a Big Gulp of the Haterade!

Dear Babel,

I hate you. You robbed me of two perfectly good hours of my life during which I could have enjoyed any number of other films that would have been more carefully crafted than yours or at least most likely would not have made me want to hang myself from the movie projector. Did you not attend grammar school? During these glorious years I acquired many skills, one of which was how to formulate ideas. You see ideas (or thoughts) are generally things that you think of that are new and innovative. Generally you will think of one and then say aloud to your friend or neighbor "I have an idea". At this point you will share this idea and it will elicit a response such as "Oh good idea" or "I don't like that idea". Never when you have an alleged "idea" should someone, such as the audience at Babel when informed the movie was based off the idea of some overpaid birdbrain in Hollywood, say, "What was the idea?" That means there was in fact no idea at all. Another concept covered in grammar school was the "idea" that in order to write a story there are a few guidelines one must follow. The first is that there should be a beginning, middle, and end to the story. If a story has a particularly poignant, yet abstract idea, perhaps this structure can be forgone, however as previously mentioned, for Babel this was not the case. There may have been a feeble attempt at an idea, but it was clouded over with absolutely asinine scenes filled with nude Asian preteens, make out sessions over bedpans, and a pre-pubescent Moroccan boy spying on his naked sister. I am fairly certain the point/idea that this movie was inspired by is the fear and misconceptions that most Americans have in terms of different cultures. I know you were trying to show how the media misconstrues events. I know you tried to humanize the issues of terrorism and immigration. But honey, you failed. I am no filmmaker, but I can tell you that this movie was so horrifyingly bad that as a die-hard liberal you couldn't even convince me. Babel you were so awful I would almost consider becoming a Republican because of you. I hope you are happy.

Love,

Marissa

Did I mention I love fuzzies???

As previously mentioned I adore little fuzzy animals! I just recently started volunteering at my very own Humane Society of Broward County. This basically means I get to play with fuzzy little kittens all day long. There are so many adorable animals, I hope if you are ever looking to get a pet you check out your local humane society! Check out some of my squishy friends( portrayed below) that I bonded with this past Sunday.

Fuzzy Wuzzies!!!

Election Day!

As you may or may not know I recently moved to Florida. This was and continues to be a very big deal for me because as one friend pointed out to me I am essentially the very incarnation of the Northeast. I am a cable knit wearing, foliage loving, clam digging, lobster cracking Northerner with a wicked affection for hippie towns and politics bluer than the Nantucket Sound. When I first learned that my new home would be Florida I was frightened the only clubs in town would be the NRA and the the KKK. I'll admit I was slightly ignorant, but seeing the color red on any map makes my head spin with visions of Cheney and Rumsfield (good riddance) dancing round my head. It didn't help that there have been a few voting scandals in the past as well. There are actually people walking around that don't vote, using the excuse that their vote won't be counted anyway. Faith has been lost, but I am here to tell you it can be restored. On Tuesday I experienced the most uncomplicated voting experience of my short, but important voting lifetime! Although the issues were obfuscated, probably due to the fact that candidates’ campaigns were based more on character claims than issues, there was not a chad (with or without child, hanging or not) in sight! I breezed through, pushed a couple of buttons, and pressed VOTE. After pressing this lovely button, I walked away with the satisfaction of knowing I had done my part and that I helped make the state a touch bluer. With Tuesday's results I feel reinvigorated about our Country's future. But I am also weary. It is clear that the president's popularity was rapidly decreasing and that the faith of the country was wavering. I fear that the Democrats have achieved this success based on the recent failures of the Republicans. And although I am pleased with anything that makes Democrats look more competent I hope that we have the change that this country so desperately needs. A toast to our success! And a toast to our future successes as well!!!

I love Furballs!!!!

Since I know that the entirety of my reader base consists of my family, you know how much I love animals. I don't know from where this love was spawned, however it is extremely present and this love combined with my mild undiagnosed ADD affects my life daily. For example a normal day to day walk/convo with me will go as follows, " Oh my god I am so sorry that you saw your boyfriend Billy making out with your cousin Rita last night... OH MY GOD A PUPPYYYYYYY (insert five minutes of baby talk and petting). Seriously I am really sorry about that, lets talk about feelings, "OH MY GODDDD A BASSSETTTTTTTT Hound" ' You get the picture. But I can't help it, its as if when I see a little furball prancing along on a leash I temporarily black out and when I come too I am covered in fur and have a drunk happy smile on my face. I just love these guys, there little paws and fuzzy faces, and squishy tummies. Its probably because I am a very tactile person and they are just so SOFT!!!! I know I am not alone in these feeling (maybe in the extremity) as there are many statistics showing how higher levels of happiness and healthfulness can be attributed to pet owners. I can remember when I was having a particularly bad day my own late cate "Beauty" would always be sure to snuggle extra close (slash snuggle at all) and try to give me some extra lovin. Maybe Beauty couldn't read a book or solve a math equation, but animals are extremely intuitive! Here is a fabulous little article about a program providing furry companions to war vets, which is great, but the pups are trained by Inmates! I love this wonderful idea. It is a win win situation. The inmates are able to do something practical and rewarding and are given companionship while the dog receives intensive training and then finally these well trained canines head out to help out the vets! It is nice to know that in a day where it seems generations are becoming slightly apathetic about doing their part and contributing to society at the least the fuzzies are doing their bit (however unwillingly). Long live the furballs!!! http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/31/us/31dogs.html?_r=1&th&emc=th&oref=slogin

Homecoming 2006

As some of you may or may not know 1 week ago was my first experience attending my University's homecoming as an alumna. I recall last year feeling a certain distate for those that returned for the game. I felt they were taking up unneccesary room in my bars and that they detracted from my overall enjoyment of the weekend. I did not understand why these individuals would feel they had the right to come back for this game and act as if they had never left school. Why wouldn't they hang out in their hotel bars or other more sophisticated venues with the other alumni? Why would they choose to hang out with slovenly undergrads partaking in a weekend of binge drinking and other debaucherous merrimaking? Wasn't the real world much more interesting than this contained community of mind altered non-reality? This is where my recent life experience becomes extremely valuable. The answer is "No". In actuality the real world is not only not more interesting, it is in fact dull. As soon as I made my move down to Florida I booked my ticket to homecoming weekend. And after that ticket was booked every glich in my day was combatted with the thought that in 4 short weeks, three short weeks, 2, etc I would be going back to Ithaca. When the day actually arrived I was a mess. I tried cooling my nerves with a cocktail at the airport. This did not help and when my plane was delayed a fit of hysterics errupted. Another cocktail on the plane did not do the trick. But talking to every single passenger and flight attendant on the plane did. Not a minute after entering the plane I am pretty sure every passenger knew I had just moved to Florida, just graduated from Cornell, was going to my first homecoming and was most likely going to miss my connecting flight in Detroit. I had people mapping out the fastest route to the gate, I had people praying, I had people giving up their seat so I could get closer to the front of the plane to ensure a smooth exit from the plane, even though most others would be missing connections as well. Due to a small miracle and the fabulous persuasion of my dear friend awaiting me on my connecting flight I somehow made it and thus, began the greatest weekend of my life and my feeble attempts to trick the rest of campus into thinking I was still a student. Upon arrival in Ithaca New York, I immediately purchased a new Cornell sweatshirt, which became a permanent fixture on my body for the next week. Had I not stopped to take a picture or cry every 3 feet while trapsing around campus, I might have even fooled a few current students into thinking I still attended this Academic stomping ground. And the weekend itself it was in fact great. For three all too short days I felt like I had never even left. I ate at all my favorite restaurants, chatted with all my favorite teachers, had my favorite drinks at my favorite bars served by my favorite bartenders. And truth be told, if undergrads were feeling the way I did last year, I didn't even notice, because I was having way to much fun. I have absolutely no qualms about returning to the exquisite event for many years to come and cannot wait for the day I give birth so that I can commence feeding my newborn "Cornell" propoganda to ensure his or her application 17 years from that day. I can just picture those "Somebody at Cornell loves Me" onsies now...

A little list

of things that piss me off. i know i know, to accomplish this is not a difficult feat, however since it brings me so much joy to complain about them, I feel it all comes out in the wash. The following are in no particular order.

1. Yesterday I was driving in my fabulous Honda rocking out to some jamming tunes. AKA a sentimental mix made during college since this is all I listen to these days. Anyway so I am rocking out/ weeping when I turn my head to see yet another F ing Hummer taking up the three lanes to my right. Oh god, not another one I thought to myself but continued to jam. Then I noted their license plate and saw that it was a "Save our Reefs" license plate. This is the part that irked me. " Alright A hole, lets all get on that. Lets all put on some dive gear and rush off to save our reefs. How about instead of you paying $50 bucks for a license plate you stop driving around a vehicle thats bigger than my entire apartment, polluting my air, sucking up all of the gas in the world, and obstructing my view on the highway??? "(Side note I have nothing against the reefs, they are fabulous... and even though I harbor an inexplicable fear of the sea, I have nothing but the utmost respect for its inhabitants).

2. So my life is not so fascinating, I have a few days a week where it is wonderful and sunny and one of my few joys is to go and sit out by the pool and try to catch some rays (hey a girl can dream can't she?) This past Sunday I am doing just that. It is 9:30, full sun, pretty much 500% humidity and I am relaxing on my chaise. The birds are chirping, I am sipping some cafe, life couldn't be better. Thats when the little terrors arrive. A group of three boys that proceed to spend the next hour playing "Lets pretend to drown each other while screaming bloody murder". Boys will be boys I suppose, but what gets me is their absent mother. She is sitting there with some aging gentleman discussing how kids have no boundries blah blah and how you can profile bad kids, etc. Come on!!!! Stop talking about the nation's children and judging a book by its cover, when your own A Hole children are running around pretending to kill each other. Okay I judge that your bratty kids are cold blooded murders with no discipline! NEXT!

3. Designing Women. Seriously. Why is this show on Nick at Nite? This is really completely ruining my daily routine. Every night I would watch a couple of Roseanne episodes to soothe my nerves before bedtime. Its almost like a valium for me, it calms me... zones me out, makes me happy. Now every night I turn on my tube and what is one, but DESIGNING WOMEN!!!! Someone help me!!!! Get this program off tv, doesn't everyone realize why this show hasn't been on any channel for 10 years.... Its because it SUCKS! And it is way too emotional. I have already cried twice because of a traumatic scene dealing with AIDS and another about an abandoned child. I commend the program for tackling such important issues, especially the first time around, but I don't need this kind of emotional drama. MORE ROSEANNE, LESS DESIGNING WOMEN.

4. This actually makes me happy. Three cheers for Panera Bread. I am usually not a sucker for any sort of chain other than my Dunkin Donuts, but this one is fabulous for one sole purpose. Free Wi-Fi!!! No more lonely days at home, I have an office!!! And it has free iced tea! Now I just need to see if they will make my copies and send my faxes....

Latest Aspiration

I just returned from my first Floridian manicure and discovered something fabulous. It was just like a Connecticut ian manicure!!! There is nothing more exciting than sitting with a stranger and not having any idea what she is saying or laughing about with her friends. It is also comforting to know there are indeed some Asians in Florida... must find out where they eat. Anyway I decided I need to become a foreign manicurist with my other foreign friends. How much fun would it be to gossip all day long and talk about the people that come in to your shop right in front of them?? I think it would probably be my personal heaven. Except for the nail painting part, definitely not good at that due to some shaky hands. Perhaps I could open a bakery of the same persuasion... And I am also not good at learning other languages so I will have to go somewhere where no one knows any English... details to come.

Baby Bella

Today as I was taking my daily break to gallavant over to my local Office Depot I began to reminisce about my very first automobile. It was a raw fall day with grey skies that had just started to pour out their fury onto the roads below. I woke up early before the rest of the town to become comfortable on the road. Her name was Bella (later to be the red rocket...not because of her speed, but the roaring sound the engine spewed when working to produce speeds over 50 mph). She was a 1991 red Honda Civic standard two door hatchback and I've never viewed anything more beautiful. I shared her with an older brother and sister, but once they ditched me for the big Apple she was all mine. On this first day out my nerves got the best of me. I stumbled and stalled, tried to start the car in third gear only to be caught in a fit of rumblings and vibrations. The day ended with a discouraged Marissa and my mom picking me up at the Mobil Station. I was soggy and slightly emotional but the next day I was ready to begin again. This day my desire for the open road outweighed my fear of it. And every day after this I was thrilled by the independence it provided me. Driving through country sides, by the ocean, soothed me and calmed me. To me the car was much more than transportation, but became my sanctuary. It brought me to friends, it housed my music, it soon became covered with clippings and photoes of my icons and interests. Beliefs were displayed on bumpers, excentricities hanging from mirrors. Driving that car made me feel powerful. It was a symbol of my independence. Pumping gas provided me with a feeling of satisfaction and achievement. A car is something different for everyone, a way to get to work, a way to escape from your home office (hypothetically), a status symbol, a way to compensate for your poor self esteem (achem hummer), but back then it was everything, it became and extension of me. Although I love my car now, probably more than most people, nothing compares to that first time I shifted smoothly into second gear, hair blowing in the breeze, tunes blasting to wash out the roaring engine, and most likely nothing ever will.

Airport Valet

I think it is time for me to blog out my newest addiction. It is something so instantly gratifying and exhilerating I am shocked more people aren't hooked. It is called airport valet and please let me be the first to speak of its merits. I stumbled upon it one day at 6 am as I circled and circled to find a space before my very first business trip. The more I circled the more anxious I became. "Was I truly going to miss the flight of my very first business trip of my entire career??" I was not prepared to let that happen. Suddenly in the distance I saw it through the haze. It was like an epiphany scene from some cheesy daytime soap, but the emotion was real. I felt the world of weight lifted from my shoulders. The kind gentleman opened my door asked when I would return and swooped my car into the safety of the valet only parking spaces. And when I returned I stepped into my already cool car ready to return home. Once I tasted this sweet nectar of parking I told myself I would only use it that once, that I could save bundles by parking in the park and save lot and then take a shuttle to the airport. That is when it hit me...the words business expense dancing in my head... and things haven't been the same ever since. So children if you can spare the 4 additional dollars a day and if you airport offers valet, I say hand over the keys and save yourself a headache!

whyyy

I also wrote a haiku to fully channel my confusion and angst... which I know I mentioned had subsided, I was saving face.

little friend ducky
no longer here on this earth
dis-int-e-grat-ed

and to think i almost got a kitten

Pictured above is the tragic event I endured just yesterday. After 24 hours of healing I am now ready to blog it out and share with the world (Hi Mom!) my pain. This is what happened. The above left photo features my one and only grow your own rubber ducky. This little trinket magically grows up to 600% of its original size in just 72 hours! How wonderful I thought to myself I shall keep close tabs on his progress and keep a photo journal of his growth. (Side note, the grime featured in my sink is not by any fault of mine but the previous owner of my apartment who has allowed the place to slowly evolve into the decrepid heap in which I now reside) But I digress.. Delighted with Ducky's growth after 12 hours I decided to feed him fresh water. After refilling his growth sink with some clean hot water I went to continue my gruelling work day. At approximately 5 pm I went to check on Ducky's progress only to find him in the alarming state pictured above right! I was horrified, why would the big man upstairs take away my only friend in the world???? MY beloved Ducky! After my anger subsided I was disheartened to realize that I could not even grow my own rubber ducky. All I had to do was add water and let it sit for 72 hours. It is so sad to see something you have formed a bond with disintegrate into a tub of water like that. I mean look at his little innocent eyes and baby beak, nobody deserves that. I have a palm tree and I am frightened it too will not make it much longer...fortunately it rains every day so I think it gets watered by itself. I have taken a photograph which I consider to be a metaphor of my pain and confusion over this event. It will be featured in an above post, because it is getting very confusing to add these photos without another one dissapearing...

not my apartment

the below is not actually my apartment...reality is much more peachy...rosy...pale.

And also

The water is yellow.

CAUTION, this post is most likely offensive!

Children, this post is not for the thin skinned...the problems have outgrown the pastels. I have toned down the apartment with slipcovers and my edgy and progressive artwork. I did however breakdown and purchase a palm tree today with visions of a Christmas card featuring me in a Santa hat in front of it in my head. Anyhow, I have masked the Golden Girl-esqueness of my bachelorette pad as much as humanly possible. Now that I have worked my magic on my home office I have started to explore my new home town. And low and behold I have discovered a few "issues" that I have, which will be listed below.
1. People from the South claim Florida is not the South, although its as far down as you can go... I was rudely alerted to this fact while innocently ordering a sweet tea in Charleston and mentioned I had recently moved. In my mind all this means is that we get the hicks without the Southern charm.... how pleasant for Northerners. If I am going to move my butt down here from Connecticut I think I deserve a little door holding, a few "Ladies firsts", and some friendly banter.
2. The DMV or RMV as it is known elswhere in the country and most likely world is labeled here as"Drivers Licenses" and at my "Drivers Licenses" hut the sign is painted onto a piece of corrugated carboard.
3. The govener that slated to win this year's election is endorsed by the NRA... this fact apparently accounts for a large portion of his popularity with the people.
4. Everyone says that there is a slower lifestyle here and I am forced to ponder why this is a positive. Is it so we can enjoy the 200% humidity even longer?
5. 71 year olds apparently go to the same bars as 20 somethings. Not charming Mr. Rogers types that are hard of hearing and attend potlucks... you don't even want to know.
6. There are no laws stating you can't carry a concealed weapon, drive a motorcylcle sans helmet, talk on a cell phone while driving, or smoke in a bar...but there is a law making it clear you cannot have an alligator on your property.
7. I have yet to find a homosexual or an asian, this limits my friend pool quite dramatically. This also limits my dining options. There are actually restaurants here called "Thai Sushi"... this frightens me.
8. I have yet to find a hippie. I have heard there is such a breed as a beach bum, which is quite similar, however there is narry a beach bum nor hippie in sight. This means that the only "farmer's market" in sight is actually a government high rise.

So there you have it folks, all of my friends have apparently been shot by the govenor. I am hungry, hot, and without fresh produce. This photograph that I was fortunate enough to capture while driving (hey no law is stopping me) says it all. Not surprisingly people can smell my Northern roots a mile away and I get the old " You aren't from around here are you?" line frequently. Well y'all, lets face it, I am most definitely not from around these here parts and so far thats alright with me.

The Pastels are Making me Nauseous

I am not sure if that is how you spell nauseous, but I am sitting here in my home office... and the pastels are making me extremely dizzy and disoriented. Perhaps this is why every part of my training modules take me longer than the suggested time frames given. Yesterday I did not realize it was Friday until a friend mentioned plans of merrymaking halfway across the nation. It was at this point that I realized that for the first time in a long while I was going to be staying in involuntarily. So I immediately headed out to my only place of refuge that I have discovered as of yet. This was of course to the FedEX Kinkos across the street. ** Side Note** What a brilliant co-branding effort I must say. I was very much a fan of Kinkos on its own, but the FedEX Kinkos mega stores have proven to be extremely multifaceted and entirely helpful for me. Just last night for example I was permitted to send a FREE fax! You can also purchase over priced boxes and shipping supplies.** Anyway, so I journeyed to the FedEX Kinkos only to realize that I was the only person lame enough to be there on a Friday night at 9 pm. I now firmly hold on to the belief that it was merely the strong pity the clerk felt for me that he provided me with the free fax. This entire transaction/journey took a total of 10 minutes, which was slightly devastating since it was the only outing I had planned for the evening. Thus, my Friday night fun having was brought to an untimely end which came to a close as I was pulled over for speeding in my own parking lot. Please keep in mind that the speed limit is 15 mph due to the fact that some residents enjoy bike riding and leisure walking along the canal. I, being the cautious driver that I am, hover around the 15 mph limit at about 14 or 16 mph. This fateful night I happened to clock in at the higher end of this range (16 mph). At this point I was reprimanded by a cold Jamaican guard. Never have I been so turned off to the normally jovial accent as when I heard the words "Slow it down girl". Thus, I was sent home with a free fax and a harsh talking too from my own security guard. As a result I proceeded to wallow in an a abyss for quite some time, trying to muster up some sympathy from close family. And now once again I am in my home office feeling quite odd as a result of the overuse of pastels in my residence. The only upside to this situation is the fact that from where I typically sit the view of my atrocious avocado stove is concealed. Thank god for the silver lining! Adios Mios.

Relocation

So here I am in Sunny Florida. So far I have seen an alligator being wrestled, shopped at a flea market the elderly and destitute, and saw a portly female in a thong bathing suit. My living room is decorated with pastel sea horses and my bedroom with an obscene number of sheep. I have bonded with the FedEX man over our grattitude for the cool weather in Florida (compared to NYC it is relatively cool). I have given Helen a ride to the supermarket so she could fill her suitcase on wheels with groceries. I have been invited to tea with Inga, my Russian neighbor. I have had my car valet parked a distance that was shorter than me. I have paid bills, made dinner, and ironed. I have vacuumed and used the hospital corner method of bed making. I've written thank you notes and filed insurance forms. I have more suits than summer dresses. To me this is astonishing. Over such a short period of time, my life has been completely transformed. No more nights that begin at 11 pm. No more falling asleep to the sound of someone screaming about last call. No more waking up to the sound of excited chatter about the latest gossip. Most likely never again will I get home at 6 am or 3 am for that matter. Right now a good night consists of a bowl of ice cream, a glass of red wine, and Law and Order. And I wake up to the sound of silence. Or the knocks of FedEX. To give myself a little credit I have only lived on my own for 3 days, so it is my firm belief that my social calendar will eventually be filled once again. However, real world... I have arrived.

I'm back!

For the past few days I have been journeying throughout a land I like to call Florida. As you know this is to be my new home in a few short, but activity filled weeks. While in this wondrous place I was able to find myself a home and learn a bit about the area. I must admit at first I was a bit nervous about the move with visions of alligator nibbles and Bridge nights taunting me through many a sleepless night. Mullets and pastels nauseated me during each morning meal. Sun poisoning and monsoons gave me goosebumps and ulcers. But after four days in my new home town I can assure you I will be a-okay. After many a fact seeking mission my partner in crime and I counted at least 3 people under the age of 30, this is a good start! And if they are ever for some reason unavailable to socialize, BINGO is being played at any given point during any given day. This is excellent because not only am I am excellent BINGO player, I also have been known to be a superb BINGO number caller. So either way I am set for life. And in terms of the whole tack factor, it turns out Floridians actually have quite a keen sense of style so I will feel right at home. I was fortunate enough to find a furnished apartment under my budget that is move- in ready. For those unfamiliar with the term, this means I basically can pack a duffle bag and I am good to go! Forget furniture buying, painting, or decorating, this baby ready. Luckily I was able to take a few pictures so I can share my bliss with all of my faithful readers.

for future reference

If you know me or anyone else that may be moving to Florida here are some tips on what to say and not to say about this move. Do Say, "Wow that is exciting, I can't wait to visit", "You'll get so many visitors", "What a fun place to move after College", "I am jealous", "I'll move there with you", "You are going to be so successful, tan, and beautiful down there" (note you can say this even if it is impossible for this person to become tan due to pigmentation complications), or you can also say "I know such and such person that lives there, I will tell them all about you and you can become best friends". Please refrain from saying, "Oh be careful of the aligators", "Oh I just heard about this guy that got eaten by an alligator", "I just read about a girl that lost her hand to an alligator", "What?! Be careful of the hurricanes", "Ohhhh did you hear about this huge hurricane that maimed a baby", "Ohhh but aren't you going to be SOOOO hot?!?!?", "What?!?! you are moving all by yourself?? Aren't you scared?? BE CAREFUL", and finally "Oh my god Florida??? I just read a story about how during a hurricane this single girl's condo blew away and an alligator bit off her face." Please head this advice carefully, it will grant you great success in conversations about this topic in the future. Happy Chatting!

Check it out!

You've probably been wondering where I've been. And the answer is: doing big important things! I am trying to regulate my inner cooling system by doing Bikram yoga (think yoga in a sauna) and also I have created this new blog for my mom! check it out at : http://sockmonkeycreatures.blogspot.com/

My apologies

I received word that I have been letting down my devoted blog readers by not posting regularly. This all started when my computer died and then never really started up again because let's face it I don't have a whole lot going on to write about. Prior to my graduation I envisioned my summer days jam packed with wholesome activities ranging from biking to baking. An article in Food and Wine inspired me to take up cheese making and I planned to start with soft ricottas and goats before moving on to harder cheddars and parmesans. I planned to start each day greeting the sun with yoga and meditation and end with meaningful and pensive walks along the beach. I planned to write poetry and drink lattes at independent coffee shops. I was going to start eating only pure and organic foods. Well needless to say it's the end of week two and all I have managed to do is keep a special place on the couch pretty warm for about 15 hours out of each 24. I tried to keep busy I even planned to go to a yoga class with a friend. But just the thought of it exhausted me. I think I realized I am not cut out for actual activity. In fact I have adapted quite nicely to my new lifestyle. Today for example, I rose at about 1 pm and enjoyed a bowl of cereal with my parents. I then retired to my couch area to watch a Red Sox game, which was actually rained out so I fell back on my contingency plan (see I am a well prepared TV viewer) and began to watch several hours of the Food Network. At this point I became exhausted and decided to head up to my boudoir for a short nap. A few hours later I prepared some dinner and returned to the TV for two Lifetime movies and some Saturday Night Live. Fortunately it was a delightful episode from the past which features a favored digital short that I featured on the blog several posts ago. Although this may not seem like much to others I am quite proud of my accomplishments. In my two post graduate weeks I have not yet been fired from my job, turned to cocaine, attempted rape or suicide, or turned into a stalker. According to a fine film from a fine decade (St. Elmo's Fire) these are sensible outcomes of post graduate confusion so I figure I am doing alright! And I was also just diagnosed with a severe disease, which I have concluded gives me the exclusive right to laze about for at least a few more days. And once I am all healed I am quite certain that I will be doing all sorts of nutrient dense, intellectually stimulating, and world improving activities and I will certainly be keeping the world posted via the blog.

An Amendment to My Life is Over

I know I previously said that my life is over in my past post. And that resulted in some concern from Dad. But lately I have been saying a lot of things that I don't mean. For example when people say Congratulations about graduation and I smile and say "Thank you it’s so exciting". This is a lie. Typically "This is so exciting" in actuality means "This is so scary I could hyperventilate and pass out". Another favorite is when I say "It is time to move on". What this actually means is "I never want to move on ever and if you bring up the fact that it is time to move on again I may a) hyperventilate and pass out or b) break out into hysterics which you will have the responsibility of quelling over several sniveling hours." Another is when I say "Well at least we had a great 4 years." Although I do know in the back of my mind that I will mean this in the future, for the time being this means, "I wish I would have spent more time in a chemistry lab or in the library instead of enjoying every second of these past four years because then maybe I wouldn't be this devastated that they are over." The parents have assured me that I will not actually be crying for the rest of my life and I will not need a life time of therapy for the pain I am suffering. At first did not believe them. The thought that I won't be able to walk out of my front door and know at least 10 people walking bye had me plummeting quite rapidly. That I won't be able to meet up with friends in seconds. That I will once again be anonymous. That I will actually have to start over. All of these thoughts convinced me I will never get over the loss of college comfort. But, then I reconsidered. I filed through my years of experiences and memories and remembered a similar, much more intense fear that I felt before coming to Cornell. Change is not a favorite of mine. I am quite content with routine in an elderly retirement lifestyle sort of manner. (Breakfast at 9, walk at noon, bingo at 2, bridge at 4...) But you know what, with my chameleon like tendencies I know everything will be okay. I'll be salsa dancing and tanning before I know with the best of them. And although all I can think about is the Will Smith ditty, I think I'll do just fine. Bienvenido a Miami baby!!!

My Life is Over

Since this past summer there are two comments/ questions that I receive from the general public on a daily basis. These people, once finding out I am graduating from college, undoubtably ask what my plans are for next year. This is a completely logical and polite question. What I don't appreciate is the alternative comment. The painful look and the sucking in of breath as the commenter states, "Well I hope you enjoy the rest of your time." It's as if I am terminally ill, with only a few more weeks to live. And I don't know if its because they rubbed off on me or not, but this is how I feel. This morning I accepted a job offer and as of June 5th, my life is officially over. For a while there I was quite content to pretend that college was actually going to go on forever. That I would never actually have to leave this little oasis of non stop fun having. But the realization that I now have to make money instead of continuing to consume it has finally struck. Needless to say, this is a bummer. So if I am a bit touchy, its because more and more each day this is sinking in and I am not happy about it.

i don't know why i don't leave

For those of you that don't know I have been involved in an extremely abusive relationship this year. This guy has been controlling, selfish, and flighty and I just can't seem to leave. His name is ipod and though every other day I get so frustrated I need to meditate for hours to rid myself of the trouble he has caused, I just can't seem to forget all of the good times. I can't push away all of the times he walked me to my job this summer whispering beautiful melodies in my ear. The times he tuned out all of the barbaric 50 year old frat boys on the train. The times he went to the gym with me gently encouraging me to run faster and work harder. I can't forget how he drops me off at hotel school every morning getting me pumped up for each day of note taking and studying. He tunes out all of the background noise in the library and helps motivate me to take my morning walk/runs. He also has this way about him. He knows when I need to hear some soothing music after I've had a bad day. He knows when I need to add a little bounce to my step. He knows when I am feeling romantic and when I need to get out some aggression. These are what I choose to remember overall. I somehow forget about the times when he refuses to play anything but Phish. The times that he crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue and refuses to turn on. I try to get him back, I push all combinations of his four buttons but that face just keeps staring at me and laughing. I forget how many times he has left at weeks at a time and comes back with no memory of all of my music and preferences. It’s as if he doesn't even know me anymore. He just looks at me with a blank stare as I plug him in and we start all over again. Then there are the times on my 6 hour bus trips to CT that he refuses to sing to me at all. I am forced to listen to the mundane chatter and the bullshit whining of the sniveling misfits that surround me. Then there are the times when he tricks me by starting a song and then 30 seconds into it he freezes. During these moments and weeks when he is gone I feel lost and alone. Everyone walks around me with their headphones dangling, their hips swaying to the sweet music playing in their ears. And at night I cry because the music in my life is gone. Recently he left me and I cried these tears. I thought it may be over; I was going to call it quits for good. I had a plan, an escape route. As I was about to make the fateful phone call he came back to life and just like that I let him back into my life to fill my days with his harmonious music. And once again all of his sins were forgotten. And I have now embarked on this abusive cycle once again. I figure that when is here it is good enough to make up for all of the bad he has done, and that is good enough for me.

Long awaited new post

Things about me that may not know...

1. My computer crashed, thats why there are no new posts
2. I don't have any plans for next year, so don't ask
3. I don't want plans for next year, unless they include not graduating
4. I like to eat food so spicy that I have to pass out on the couch before going back for more
5. I get hot flashes, not conducive to the spicy food addiction, I am often very hot
6. I love Semi Homemade on the foodnetwork and often times wish I could make tablescapes as beautiful as Sandree Lee... I especially like the Easter one with bunny lollipops
7. When I get scared walking home alone at night I often play in my head what the Unsolved Mysteries guy would say about me. i.e. "Marissa was walking home alone one night after a strenuous library work shift...and she was never seen again."
8. Everytime I drive past a car with a George Bush sticker I have to get a good look inside the car...just to see what they look like...
9. I always pretend like I am in a movie and I constantly play a soundtrack as I walk places
10. I love the taste of the Eucharist (sorry if you are offended by this, get over it I am appreciating the lord jesus in my own way)
11. If you ever say something bad about my friends or family I will kill you, I know I have successfully tricked maybe 2 people into thinking I am nice, I am not.
12. When I was little I wanted to be a bathroom designer, not truly sure why
13. My ultimate life goal is to raise Jewish children, (perhaps the ultimate Catholic rebellion) I have already started saving for their bar/bat mitzvahs.
14. The only food I don't like is pickled herring
15. My other ultimate life goal is to be a Jewish Grandmother... I want to play with the little tots without raising them. And I want to spoil them with too much kugel.

Diversity!!!

I was reading a book the other day called Rebel Rules. Its a kitschy little rule book on how to break the rules without breaking the bank. ( I just came up with that tag line on the fly believe it or not). One of its thought provoking chapters is entitled Diversity is a Potluck. I figured I would like this chapter since it was about one of my favorite topics, potlucks!!! Turns out the book was still about entrepreneurship and not suddenly a cookbook, however it still made me think. It spoke of how important it is for work forces to be diverse as a whole new wealth of ideas is introduced and a diverse company represents its diverse client base. As I was reading the chapter I was completely in agreement with all the points. I thought how refreshing that a company is breaking the corporate mold and actually realizing that diversity is not only politically correct, but beneficial to all parties involved. People from different racial, economic, geographic, and religious backgrounds help bring new perspectives when solving problems and brainstorming ideas. Different beliefs and work methods can help a company relate to all different needs and desires of consumers. This was great I thought, diversity is unbelievable. It is true that often times I look at my life and realize that I am surrounded by those similar to me. But when I am surrounded by those that aren't I feel so refreshed. I find that at Cornell, even though some say it does not live up to the melting pot Ezra may have imagined, I am surrounded by so many people that I have never been exposed to before. I have never been anywhere else where billionares from Singapore comingle with working class Midwesterners. International students hail from Korea, Taiwan, India, New Zealand, Turkey, Germany, Switzerland... of course the list goes on. To me Cornell University is basically an after school special on diversity. That is when I realized, I am the least diverse person in the whole entire world. I hail from the Northeast where chains such as El Pollo Loco admitadly don't even exist because we don't really know what Mexican food is. I have an intact family that I talk to on a regular basis. I am an ex Catholic raised in a world that preaches its overbearing principles by dictating and guilting. I am whiter than a ghost. I can't even get a sun tan, I turn from fire engine red to decreasing shades of pink. It was a big shock for me to move to Connecticut and learn what a Ba/Bart Mitvah was. This was a large cultural awakening for me as I also learned what a Country Club and a trust fund were. I am ashamed to admit that the only language I know is English. Fortunately, this seems to be the universal language of business, but this does not make it any more acceptable. I don't have any exotic pets, except for a beta fish... I don't have any special skills, I can't even do a cartwheel. What do I bring to the diversity potluck?? I am the salt free, butter free, powder mash potatoes that no one eats anyway, unless they ate something too spicy that needs to be subdued. This is a very depressing thought for me. I often times daydream about being Jewish and being Bat Mitvahed or being from another country with a rich history of turmoil and culture. Sometimes I wish I could be the curry or the cous-cous at the potluck. I guess I shouldn't be ashamed of my roots. So I have no cultural perspective. Whats wrong with some bland mashed potatoes here and there, I guess sometimes one's tongue does get a bit too hot and the mashed potatoes could really help cool it down. And what harm do they do even if not. Especially since it should be known that the mashed potatoes really enjoy the company of its neighboring Vermicelli, Ghoulash, and Empanadas. And that the mashed potatoes often wishes she could transform into a little ghoulash herself, pehaps with tiny dumplings...or even just add a little butter, some sour cream, and maybe even bacon bits to her own mashed potatoes.

Spring BREAK!!!!

This morning I woke up to find out someone stole my swiss cheese, and my Screaming Hot Salsa. It is Spring Break and rather than joining the rest of Cornell in Puerto Rico I am here in scenic Ithaca. It is fairly desolate, but last night I had the good fortune of meeting Pedro from the first floor. He seemed like a good kid. And mother nature has been pretty good to my by providing the most frigid horrifying weather in months. Hey who else gets to celebrate her "last opportuntiy to make mistakes" as my boss so tactfully put it, with 150 mph winds, snow/hail, and temperatures in the teens? Today was thrilling. First I laminated signs that urged people to not eat in the library, then I shelved a few books, then I threw away some periodicals. At this point I was exhausted so I determined it was time for my half hour lunch break during which I journeyed over to another library to pick up seasons 3 and 4 of Sex and the City. I then returned back to my own library to physically measure each bookshelf with a yardstick. After this thrilling day I knew I was in need of some serious decompressing. Fortunately, even though no one is actually in Ithaca, there are still gym classes. And finally, for the first time since my seven week course is over, I was able to go to Spinning Power Hour with Mike. It was just as good as I remembered. We spun to the N'Sync mix, it was endurance ride. We got the movie review, he saw some Tim Allen movie. He commended us for spinning instead of visiting the all you can eat dessert buffet. Everything was exactly as I remembered. As I trudged home in the sub-zero weather, with wind whipping down my face and neck, as a tumble weed blew down the path ahead of me, I realized everything was okay. God bless Mike and his flowing rattail, his Monday movie review, and his N'Sync mix. Thank god that at least one part of my life is predictable and there is something I know that no matter how long I am away, things will be exactly the same.

I love babies

I love babies. I love them so much that no matter what type of mood I am in, they always make me happy. I could be plummeting into an abyss thinking my life is over and if I happen to look up and see a baby, this feeling immediately melts away. I love all babies, girl babies, boy babies, black babies, Asian babies, all kinds of babies. I especially love fat babies, the fatter the better. I love their little rolls, their rosy cheeks, and their fuzzy hair. I love when they cry, I love when they laugh, and I love when they sleep. I love baby puppies, kittens, all babies. I love babies, I love life, I love my family with all my heart. I think that every time a baby is born, it is a miracle from God. I think it is truly a beautiful thing. As much as I believe this with all of my heart, I don't believe that all babies should be born. I am truly saddened by South Dakota's motion to ban most abortions in their state. Excluded from the exceptions in this ban are victims of rape and incest. This truly hurts me deep down inside of my soul. I wish that everyone could truly understand the pain and agony an unwanted baby can bring. Do the people approving this ban truly know what it feels like to bear the baby of one's own rapist? Do they understand what its like to be the unwanted child in an orphanage? Do they know the kind of psychological pain and damage this can cause? Furthermore, do they understand what kinds of means people will turn too once a safe legal abortion is not an option? Is there any proof that making abortion illegal will make abortion go away? I understand that people need to be responsible and that precautions can be taken in order to prevent pregnancy. I fully support safe informed sex. However, is there no room for error? I understand that some people may disagree that this is a decision caused by religious persuasion, but pro- life supporters remind me of the one and only Catholic service I have been to in over 6 years. In this service I was slightly curious about the option of returning to the faith. At this service I was informed that the word of Jesus is the law I am to follow. When following this law there is no "wiggle" room. There is no room for error. Either one follows the word of the lord, or one is not Catholic. I left this mass feeling defeated and irate. How is it that there is no room for human error, no room for life? Laws such as the ban in South Dakota are unrealistic and oppressive. Removing options from desperate women will only lead to desperate measures. I wish at times that people could step away from their rigid beliefs and account for a measure of humanity and life, allow for some wiggle room, accept that mistakes are made. Should children have to pay for these mistakes? Should lives have to be compromised in order to follow a morale code that makes little sense? Is a life filled with agony and despair better than no life at all? I am not saying I have these answers, but I think that women should be able to make these decisions for themselves and the lives that they create. In the wild animals eat their babies if they are contaminated by a predator. Should a victim of an unwanted pregnancy be able to make a similar decision? I want to say once more how much I appreciate the gift of life a child can bring to the world. I truly am amazed by the gift I have as a woman to produce such a gift. But I can't imagine what I would do if I had no other option that to birth a child at this point in my life. Because I think I can safely say that it would be a disaster.

Rock Paper Scissor Shoot

Last night, during an exceptionally important tournament of rock, paper, scissor, shoot(RPSS from here on out) I had a bit of an epiphany. After losing pretty badly to some girl named Jenna, it occured to me that I had not played this childhood favorite for years. It was used quite often as a deal breaker of sorts. It determined who would hide and who would seek, who got to jump first during jump rope, who got to do basically anything fun and or powerful ever. Sometimes we would use the one potato 2 potato method or the eenie meanie, but often times RPSS would be the prevailing decision making device. Whatever happened to this beautiful method...when did it phase out. I honestly don't remember, it just left me one day as if in a dream. I sold it at a tag sale along with my skip - it and care bear collection. When did things start being solved differently? And on a slightly different note when did RPS shooting turn into gun shooting. I was thinking the other day about being raised. My parents taught me always try and work out problems by discussing them. If I fought with my brother and sister ( which I did) I would be punished. If I was ever violent I was reprimanded and we would try to work out my anger issues. In kindergarten when I fought I was sent to the principal's office. All throughout life violence is discouraged as a means to work out conflict. Why then do we so often resort to violence in order to settle disputes? Why does the government send our citizens to fight in a war to supposidly work through disagreements? Why do we not only act violently, but actually kill others in order to work through change? I don't understand what is different from when we were children. Why is it not okay for me to hit my sister because she won't let me play with her but it is okay to shoot someone because we don't like their government's policies? It seems beyond primitive to me... why has so much progress been made elsewhere in society, yet this barbaric method of conflict resolution remains? It almost makes more sense to RPS shoot it out... which if it is done in Ithaca for the next few days... may win you a trip to Vegas as a bonus!

Confusion

To alleviate any confusion that may have been caused, here is a post that I had up originally and then chose to erase based on the fact that it was slightly belligerent and typo ridden. It was inspired by a brief research project on the Heritage Foundation, a conservative Think Tank, based in Washington D.C. This organization claims to have no ties to the government, however seems suspiciously close to those in the White House, as well as has strong ties within the media with sources including the New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. The Think Tank produces research that more or less supports the idea that there should be less government assistance for the poor and focuses on more individual freedom as well as free enterprise. In essence the theory is this: People can be successful based entirely on their own talents. It should not matter whether a person is Hispanic, or black, or white, a man or woman, coming from the streets, or coming from wealthy suburbia. Surprisingly funding mainly comes from a few extremely wealthy donors, and then a seemingly never ending list of large Corporations.

I am white. I am from an extremely affluent section of Connecticut. I attend an even wealthier Ivy League University and I can tell you right now without batting an eye that I am not here solely based on my personal work ethic. It does happen that I have a fabulous work ethic, don’t get me wrong, however I have a lot more factors on my side that will allow me to be successful in the future. I have two supportive working parents that have provided me with love and financial security since birth. I have been provided with some of the best public lower level schooling in the world and now a highly regarded College education. I have always been well fed, well –dressed (relatively speaking), and well groomed.

So it may be extremely easy for me to say that all it takes is hard work for someone to get to the top, but the truth of the matter is this is simply not true. Poor people do not have equal access to good health care, education, or training. People that are less than poor do not have equal access to safe housing, nutritious food, or public funding that may help them get back on their feet. Once one reaches the bottom, it is virtually impossible to get back up. The fact is this we should not be providing flat taxes in order to preserve the sickening wealth possessed by a small minority of those living in the US, but we should be focusing on increasing public assistance to help get people at a level where they have a fighting chance to sustain themselves. Furthermore, I think we all need to be a little bit careful when reading, seeing, or hearing anything, because it is more than likely the researcher quoted is funded by the people they are claiming to support. And more than too many people trust the media as an accurate source for non biased news, so my friends, I would highly suggest we all suck it up, be a bit more skeptical and stop trying step on the little people in order to get to the top.

Serves him right

This is one smart puppy.

My one true love

Some people people find sanctuary at a place of worship, whether it be a chapel, a temple, a meditation room, or some other place in the presence of GOD. Others find their calm at a beach with purring waves and powder soft sand. Then there are others whom feel most at peace at the spa under the finger tips of a well trained massage therapist. Well I too have found my safe place, my mecca. This place of glory and bliss is called Wegman's. For those unfortunate souls without a Wegman's nearby imagine the most awe inspiring sight you have ever seen. Perhaps it is the Grand Canyon, or the Swiss Alps, maybe the pyramids in Egypt. The Seven Wonders of the World don't come close. It is at Wegman's where I can order a skim latte, then wheel my cart over to the bakery where several jolly employees can fill my arms with loaf after loaf of fresh baked sour dough or french baguette, and then perhaps stop for a snack of freshly prepared pasta, sandhwich, or salad. I could select a vegetarian or vegan option, or perhaps choose a variety of Asian cuisines. After some sustenance, I can begin my journey. There is the feel of a European open air market as I wheel past fresh fish and meats, olives, fresh mozzarella, and then finally stop in front of all of my favorite cheeses. Parmesan, Roquefort, Gruyere, Gouda, Goat, Tellagio, Gjetost, Brie, Camembert, row after row of cheese after cheese. When I am at Wegman's I am at home. It is here where feasts become a reality, where recipes are created and soon to be tested. Here miracles happen, dreams come true. At Wegman's one not only shops, but experiences. It isn't a chore, but a joy. I feel like a painter picking out paints when I am there. Somehow whether it be the enchanting layout, the consistent qualtity and variety, the soothing lighting, or the spotless cleanliness Wegman's brings out the artist in everyone. Because food really is art, it should be enjoyed like a a fine painting, slowly and with great thought. It should not be gulped behind a wheel at a drive through, or in a bar. It should not be a quick fix or a solution. Food is an opportunity for people to craft elements together to make something that can provide joy and pleasure. It should bring people together and bring them life. It is at my mecca where these elements can be gathered and used to create masterpieces. It is at Wegman's where food becomes art.

Love Love Love

I forgot to mention in my previous post the most important dating option of all. It is one that not only truly amuses me, but makes me want to run to my computer and book a flight. It seems that airlines have figured out the secret desire for all single travlers ( or I suppose anyone just a little bit lonely) to pick seat assignments based on the desire to meet a potential mate. Yes, dating can now be done in the air, while flying to a new fabulous destination. Peanuts, and assorted soft drinks are provided and alcoholic beverages can be purchased for an additional charge. Its actually a wonderful idea for the multitasker and those that particularly enjoy heights. And who doesn't get on a flight with visions of dreamy seat buddies dancing in their heads?? Thank god someone is making that dream a reality.

Dating?

This past summer a friend and I, dissatisfied with the selection of bachelors in our somewhat sprawling suburban town, decided out of curiosity to sign up for match.com. I thought it would be a fun social experiment. We had plans of a book and movie, however these shortly fizzled. At first it was exciting, deciding which picture to use, what to put in our profile, and seeing who else utilized the service. It became immediately clear that what was a "fun social experiment" for us, was a way of life for a large population (at least on this site). Messages were received daily by people that wanted to "chat" or even meet in person. I removed myself from the site after a "business man" over the age of 50 from my own hometown wanted to get together. It is amazing to me how dating has become such a large business not only in this country, but around the world. When googling the words dating service over 63,200,000 hits come up. There is match.com, e-harmony, j-date, lovecompass, plentyoffish.com, etc. Sites offering Russian brides, those for specific religious affiliations, for those over 40, on and on. There are also services such as "It's Just Lunch" which is designed for business professionals, too busy for the dating scene. This service organizes lunch dates based on user profiles. Speed dating is another face to face form of dating. Companies such as hurrydate and 8 minute dating organize parties at local bars and clubs that allow for couples to meet for a short period of time (5-8 minutes). Throughout the night one can meet anywhere from 25-30 people and then they can determine if they want to meet for a real date. Recently, online dating services have made the leap to cell phone service. Now people can meet and chat anywhere anytime! In other countries it is possible for your mobile device to indicate whethere your "buddy" or "match" is within a 100 ft radius of you at any given time. As a college student, these ideas seem more than a little crazy. Whatever happened to the old fashioned way of meeting a mate, in a mosh pit aka frat party, or at a rowdy bar? Whatever happened to sharing a milkshake or hand holding?? Is the only post college dating option through my cell phone? Am I limited to 5 minute forced interactions from here on out? Or worse yet, will I have to mail order a husband? I don't even think they do that!!! I don't doubt that many people have found wonderful companions through these services and everyone deserves that. What concerns me is that we are moving too fast. Our lives our a blur and we are too self absorbed and scared to look around and approach people in the flesh. I feel very Carrie Bradshaw-esque writing about this, but is the dating we once knew obsolete?

How great is that!?

Yesterday I heard someone truthfully say that he didn't think that things could have gotten any better in his life and then they did. I found that inspiring.

the beginning of the end

Yesterday morning I awoke with one thought in my mind which was that it was the last "first" day of school of my life. It became undeniable that my college career is coming to an end. As a second semester senior it is time that I make this realization, however hard it may be. But it was difficult walking into Statler Hall, knowing that the times I will be doing so are limited. It was with a heavy heart that I walked past all my favorite places, Mac's Grab and Go, The housekeeping window, and it was with great sadness that I set foot in the wrap line for what I began to view as my last time. My mind was a whirlwind of my future years. How soon it will be that it will be socially unacceptable to attend Karaoke nights every Monday. And all too quickly my earliest day will not begin at 12:20 pm. Chinese food at 3 am will be considered irrational and unhealthy rather than irresistable and delicious. I won't be able to watch 18 hour of tv in 2 days. It is most likely that by next year people will realize my hair is unbrushed and not "curly". In a few short months, my life will be nothing other than sweater sets, balanced meals, and AA. But then as I reached the counter to pay for my gluttony I had another realization. After rather quickly reviewing my college years I determined that perhaps in the near future, I can look forward to a few things and if I am lucky these things will outweigh those that I'll miss. For one thing I will be living in a fabulous apartment with a fabulous roomate and hopefully sleeping in something other than a twin extra long. I will also most likely be earning a steady paycheck which from what I hear is something of a miracle. Also there is the sweater set aspect. Although I gave them a slighlty negative connotation moments ago, the truth of the matter is I do quite enjoy a good sweater set. In addition to these perks I am hoping that out in the real world neither of the following phrases will be directed towards me ... "Step out my crib...bitch" or "I will house you" ( I am not sure what they mean either, even after extensive research on the issue) I am also excited about the large decrease in social settings which include shoving, screaming, and hair pulling, in order to obtain a beverage that will most likely be spilled, rufied, or stolen. And I am also assuming that growing up includes less hair holding and vomit clean up! There are many more advantages I am sure, but the point is change isn't always bad. So my days will soon be more structured, and filled with reason, rather than meandering, but that is good. Although I will miss my Ruloff's, and lazy Sundays filled with brunches that last hours. I will miss the classesI have taken, especially those that include complimentary beverages and nibblies. And most of all I will miss the friends that I have made, those that don't run away screaming at my bizarre antics, and the ones I have traded notes with and poured blood, sweat, and tears into assignments with. I will miss my beautiful campus and all of the memories I have created here. But, as someone told me a few weeks ago "Isn't it great that you had that much fun?". Yeah I think it is pretty great, and I can't wait to have even more fun in the upcoming months, and then to do a whole lot of growing up in the months after that.

warm fuzzies

Yesterday the best news story ever was brought to my attention. It was this: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/10903211/
In case you do not feel the need to read this particular tale, let me fill you in. It describes the friendship that is forged when a little hamster is fed to a snake at the zoo. Instead of eating the hamster, the snake befriends it. Now they spend all day together in the snake cage, talking, napping, and sometimes frollicking. I am basically in love with this story. I wonder what the snake was thinking when he rejected his fuel in order to form a friendship with his sustenance. Isn't it a basic survival instinct to keep your body running? Instead he ignored logic and did something highly emotional, he made a friend. Sometimes people claim that animals have no emotion or feeling, which at times I may be inclined to believe. That is why this story is so great. Our little snake ignored all that was expected of him and defied the laws of the jungle, he befriended his prey. This story basically warmed my heart, it made me want to make a new friend, even if it just may be hamster.

Update

For those interested, my brother and future sister in law have changed the address of their website to the following: http://mysite.verizon.net/vzenw0la/wedding/index.html
In even more exciting news (maybe to me), at this very moment, there is a bridesmaid's dress sitting in my closet!!! It is featured on the upper left corner of this post.

Tunes

Recently I was reminiscing about a time when I met a person who never listened to music. I remember it well. She said " I don't listen to music. It distracts me, I never had tv and I've never purchased a cd." I remember looking at her in horror, as did the other member of our conversation. He replied that he never was without music, carrying a portable digitial music device when walking, listening to cds in the car, and immediately turning on a stereo when entering his room. At the time I enjoyed a slightly altered version of this routine. We were both disgusted that a person would claim to dislike music. We quized her only to find out she truly had no knowledge of pop culture, nor any well known classics that any music listener would posess. At this point I began to feel a strong sense of sadness. I wonder where my life would be if I had no music. As a youngster music provided me a way to feel connected to those older than me. I remember the New Kid's On the Block buttons my sister owned and how cool I thought they were and I remember the feeling of sheer joy I experienced when I was allowed to attend a concert with her (and my dad...poor dad). Music allowed a sense of celebration, Christmas was never Christmas without the Raffi record on the record player and then later without my favorite Willy Nelson on the tape dec. And in harder times music provided a sense of sanctuary. I never truly connected with music until I discovered the Beatles in the 6th grade. Its no secret that at this point in my life I was basically a giant, new at school, and enormously socially awkward. Prior to now I was used to being the class genius, but after moving to a town of child prodigies, that indentity was already taken. I felt pretty much like a freakshow. But just as I was about to sign up for the circus I discovered Abbey Road. I remember the day well, it was after yet another horrifying day at Bedford Middle School ( I swear I am homeschooling my children so that they are not exposed to other Middle school Children... maybe they can do 5th grade, but that is it! ) I remember glancing at my father's record player and then shuffling over. Looking at all the records was fun, they were so big and mysterious, they seemed to hold so much history. As "Come Together" began I was hooked. I had never experienced that feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me I was listening to something great. I am not a religious person, never had I felt something as powerful as this in all my sundays in Mass, but it almost seemed a higher spirit was telling me "Heyyy kid, everything is going to be fine". Music is therapeutic, it helps those that are lonely and confused, it can be used to help people recover from physical ailments. Music allows for some to form a whole identity based on a specific genre. I for one was never willing to sign over the whole of who I am to music, but I do understand its amazing power. The feeling when hearing a song or perhaps a whole album, first of sheer intrigue, then bliss, then the insane jealousy that I myself did not create it, and the then the incredible contentment that I can listen to it on repeat for at least a week. Music makes everything better. Commuting was made bearable this summer by the addition of an ipod. A walk through midtown is no longer hectic for me, but soothing as I listen to Itzhak Perlman or Mozart. A party is no party without blasting tunes. Nothing says "aww remember that night at x location" like the song you were listening to at the time. I wonder where the music-less lost soul is that spurred my meditation on the topic. I hope she was inspired by our reaction to her situation to perhaps purchase a few tunes, maybe just turn on the radio once or twice. But hopefully in some form music has entered her life because I truly cannot imagine a life silenced by the lack of music.

I cannot get enough

I had the pleasure of watching Saturday Night Live a few short Saturdays ago. After an hour of not on laugh, barely even a smile at lame attempt after lame attempt to parody life in our country this little flower blossomed in front of me almost in slow motion. Every one truly needs to enjoy this. God bless this Andy Samberg and Chris Parnell. You have given me the gift that nevery stops giving, the gift of laughter. http://www.youtube.com/watch.php?v=zLElfJ9YCh0