2009

“Think back one year.

What were the top 3 things you experienced? How did you grow? What did you learn? Who supported you? What did you transcend? What light came into your life?

I haven't had much time to write these past six months, but to stay in line with this time last year, I wanted to ask myself the same questions, and compare answers.

It's funny how some answers change so drastically while others stay the same. I stopped myself from reading the entire post, because I wanted to answer this year honestly. 2009 was interesting, from start to finish. The first day in January I spent jet-lagged in a pink dress.

Top 3 things experienced:
1. Finding myself on a bike ride through France, and being shockingly surprised, and happy to find the girl I used to know.
2. Breaking, but more importantly, healing when I didn't think it was possible.
3. Taking a risk and jumping.

ode to fishtown anyone?

Found this while scouring Philebrity

Fishtown from Weathervane Music on Vimeo.

near and far

There's been a lot of traveling in the midst as of late.

I just got back from Europe, spending 18 days throughout the Netherlands, Belgium, France and Italy. I had an amazing time. Stretching my wings and flying around, finding new faces and corners of the world that made it easier to smile, easier to breathe, and easier to write.

I managed to keep a journal to record thoughts here and there, pieces of scrap paper to remind me of moments, and a few scars on my legs (to add to the pile) that will still help me tell my story in years to come.

I haven't really written anything longer than a blog post, and if I have, I haven't shared it. Not even with my mother. Which says a lot. I'm always "writing in my head" as I tell my mother, when she finds me staring off into a rock, or a corner, or at my feet. She was really a sport while we were traveling around and I would spontaneously bolt for my bag, sit down and write for a minute.

That being said, I'm going to buckle down and write down the long version of my trip. Not that anyone needs to read it, but I need to get the words out of me and onto paper. Because honestly, I'm running out of room in the cramped space in my chest. And some thoughts and feelings should go recorded, even if it's just for me.

I've made a few trips that have changed my life. That sounds dramatic huh? But it's true. Hopefully, by the time this short story (?) is done it will cover events, the impact, and why any of it mattered. I read a book while I was riding the rail system about a women who was the first woman to row across the Atlantic ocean in a single. She said it wasn't enough to write about the rowing, she had to talk about the boat, the woman, and the ocean. And it's true.

To be continued...
pictures will be here soon! I know I always say that, but this time I promise

listen

apparently i wasn't paying attention in 2006....

Paper Aeroplane - Angus & Julia Stone

bottled up, boxed up

I remember the day I cleaned out my apartment and moved from 15th and Spruce to Queen Village. I came home from labor day weekend to find my entire apartment filled, floor to ceiling, with roaches. Some dead in my toilet and bathtub, some roaming free on the walls and on the floors. Apparently my dear o'neighbor set a roach bomb while I was gone, and they all ran under the floorboards and walls.

Poor stella (RIP kitty) was left to fend for herself, battling against the roughest bugs on the east coast. I on the other hand wasn't prepped for the battle, and spent the night on a friends couch.

The next day I came home to clean up the mess. Top to bottom I sprayed, laid traps, disinfected as much as I could. At the end of the night there wasn't a bug to be found. I decided a bath was the way to go. I turned the nozzle on the bathtub on and i saw something JUMP up at me. It was a mouse. Swimming. Swimming in my bathtub.

I bought boxes the next day.

I've boxed up my life many times now. There's something cathartic about putting all of your belongings into a box. Deciding what is worth packing, what is worth leaving behind, what should go to good will, and what belongs in the trash. Forever.

In all the times I've boxed up my life, I've found that it's during a pivotal time in my life. When I'm leaving my first one bedroom apartment, when I'm moving across the country, when I'm moving back across the country, when I'm establishing my space in an oh-so-cramped world.

The process of boxing up memories can be the worst. Re-reading letters of love, tokens of good times, and clothing with memories too painful to revisit. Well not all painful. You get a very unique opportunity to watch yourself grow. To see a transformation from year to year. In shoe choice, in home decor, in underwear, in love. You can see a change from that of a girl to a woman, from that of a lover to a loved one, from that of a significant to an insignificant, from cowering to courageous.

We box up and bottle up everything that's too overwhelming, daunting, or challenging. Throw on a shipping label or a 3x5 cards labeled "livingroom", "fragile", "open when you're ready."Why? Why not throw it all out for a landfill to deal with? Closure? Once something is packed and shipped it's gone for good? We think.

I've unpacked enough boxes in my day to say the least. The latest was probably the worst. Although good friends helped sort the dry cleaning from the washer safe, the living room from the "open on a rainy day."It brought back old memories involving hoop earrings and christmas cards. But finally closure, on the opposite end of a box that I didn't pack myself.

Gone are trips to the beach, vegas and new york. Scrambled eggs and bacon, movies at the ritz, walks to the park, sunday mornings, chinese food in the middle of the night, special light through my window, blueberry muffins and chocolate chip cookies. Bottles of wine, dinner over candle light, and pumps from west broadway. Mexican food, plans for the wine country, shoulder nook, love in the morning, grey's anatomy during finals, nina simone at the end of the day. Never learning to dance, singing while fast sleep, singing while crying. Walking through the snow, meeting in the cold, my red nose in the winter, my cold toes in the morning, my hair through the sunroof.

Bottle it up, box it up. I'm ready for the next move.

listen

because i said so :)

fun

This past weekend my partner in downtown crime was kind enough to accompany me to the old ceremony concert. It's been my deep dark secret dream to perform on stage. Not in the stripper way, but in the iplayanintrumentandsingallatthesametime kind of talent. Dream=realized this past sunday. Well, kinda ;) I got to play tambourine for one of my favorite bands during one of my favorite songs. It was damn near perfect.

Four gin and tonics later Lana and I were chatting up the band and generally being charming. Thank god Lana has tact, because she grabbed me by the belt and threw me out of the concert right after I passed my suave and charming peak, and before the words started jumbling, or confessions of love started to flow. A trip to the karaoke bar and a bowl of cheesefries later we called it a night. What can I say, we're classy broads.

The next day I headed to the beach for my first day of the season. Oh fun in the sun, swimming in the ocean, building sand people, drinking PBR, taking naps on the beach....fuck. Naps on the beach. I'm pail, very pail. I'm pretty sure I've been told that one shade decrease would result in clear skin. I woke up after a twenty minute nap with the most painful sunburn to date.

I've been sleeping and working on my stomach for the past two days, and trying, oh so desperately, to explain to Puck why he can't jump on me. So confused ("Mom?! you don't LOVE ME?!?!"). I must say, I'm a little pathetic, and felt oh so sheepish when I had to approach my boss and ask to work from home because my ass and thighs were LITERALLY on fire. Thank god for understanding employers with daughters.

In other exciting news, I finally bought myself one of those snazzy, skinny, digital camera's, so before you know it more pictures will be involved in the blogging. Excellent. To be continued...

aha! dont forget...

Thought I'd throw it up here that The Old Ceremony is playing the Tin Angel this Saturday at 9:30. An excellent destination after the Roots Picnic if I say so myself. You might remember, I posted their new album a bit ago. Check them out if you can, you won't be disappointed!

shows

So I finally managed to run over to Kung Fu Necktie, which I have to be honest, I drive past the place everyday. This whole time I was convinced it was a tattoo parlor. Anyway, the interior is awesome, with very comfy booths and barstools and even better, fabulous bartenders. At one point, in my haste to dance, I left my purse sitting on my barstool like an amateur, and the bartender grabbed it and put it up on the shelf so no one would steal anything.

We're called the city of brotherly love for a reason. And in the spirit of love, I bring you Love is All, a wonderful band with a great sound. The lead singer is this super cute, 5 foot nothin chic from across the pond. We're so lucky to have such a vibrant music scene in the area. I'm really spoiled by the venues in a 1 mile radius. I'm never moving.

Listen, enjoy, love.

i want these

silly but true. they're just so darn cute! when i file, i file in style...

donations to my new home office can be made here in case someone out there is interested ;)

tired of feeling guilty

The to-do list has become a little overwhelming as of late. I need to find a way to get to the end of my to-d0 list, or accept that I can't be in 10 places at the same time, prioritize, and get over it. A few things....

1. My laundry goes from the dryer to my hamper then worn. My clothes rarely make it to the closet or the drawer, and i REALLLLY want to be one of those people that organizes their clothes by color, that presses them before they're hung, that matches their socks, that knows where "that shirt" is...I've tried, honest I have.

2. I've had a toothache for the past two weeks and I'm too stubborn to go to the dentist. I hate the dentist, and I can honestly say, my dentist hates me. I swear his voice drops every time he hears me on the other line. But I have this pang of guilt every time I eat something, swear to make an appointment, and don't follow through.

3. I need to either learn how to speak French with Bamba (my west African French tutor) or just skip it. My French books look at me, all dusty and such, and yell." YOU! YOU THERE! Je ne parle pas FRENCH?! NO, no you DON'T!" Something needs to be done about talking books...

4. Which brings me to the pile of books next to my bed that have been neglected. I was on a roll, then I wasn't. Now Ayn Rand has taken permanent residency under my lamp, collecting dust. I need to read it, or give it back.

5. The chairs that I swore would be recovered in weeks still remain, uncovered and shedding stuffing almost a year later. Honestly em, is it that hard? You covered a sectional couch in a WEEKEND, I think you can handle the chairs. Just not enough time.

6. Credit card debt. I think that's enough said. I made some bad travel decisions, some bad clothes decisions, and well....bad, bad decisions in the past 5 years that surface as a monthly reminder on the 15th and 22nd of every month.

7. Biggest disappointment of the spring, my garden. I had this big plan to create beds with half veggies and half flowers. No such garden had materialized (however, to give credit where it's due, my flower box is choc' full o' pansies). I really need to decide if it's going to happen before Europe.

8. Cooking for myself has always been a chore that I've avoided. I'm the queen of eating at restaurants, boxes of mac and cheese, and take-out sandwiches for lunch. The half of it is always working in restaurants, but now that i'm (gasp) getting older, I've considered buckling down and cooking. I hate the idea of it. I hate food shopping. As Leah tells me, I snack shop, not food shop.

9. My lack of a home office or personal computer. It's really getting old.


Despite all the guilt, things that I can be happy for...
1) I'm painting like a mad woman
2) My traveling dream is happening in less than 28 days
3) The boys and I finally have some more quality time
4) I started rowing again
5) I'm going to more shows than I have in years

updates from the desk of...

It's pretty ridiculous when you only have time to update your blog monthly. I'm surprised it hasn't been cycled out of the internet, taken to cyber pastures to make room for someone else to babble. But again, some noteworthy events have gone down that are fun to share....

The Week: Mom kept asking me leading up to my annual event, "honey, is it your week yet?", which taken out of context, announced in a supermarket may mislead anyone else in the isle. "WHY NO MOM, IT'S NOT ENTREPRENEURSHIP WEEK YET" hoping desperately that the cute guy shopping for taco shells heard me rather than my mother. None the less, the event went off very well thanks to the help of some very talented individuals. Yay!

My Mom is a Rock Star: But seriously, she is. Mama graduated from Temple this month with a B.A. in Community and Regional Planning and a minor in architecture. God she's a slacker. Someone should really talk to her.....She was absolutely radiant the entire day, and really rocked a gown like it was her job. I'm so damn proud of her for sticking with it, and for being such a smart cookie. Go mom!

Richard is One with the Lord: After lots of school, work, and praying Richard is officially a priest. He was ordained in the Cathedral Basilica of Peter and Paul during a beautiful ceremony. The whole process was very touching, with good friends and family there to support him and his big step. The rest of the weekend consisted of luncheons and enough gin to help me deal with my grandmother. Sometimes there just aren't enough distilleries...

Holy Smokes Jakey is 23: Yea that's right, you heard me. Twentyfuckingthree. My little brother. He's such a grownup it's scary. I feel bad because his birthday has fallen on a "richard holiday" for the past 8 years, so his time to shine is always shared. However, this was the last of it. We celebrated my dear brother with yummy cake and wine. Jakey, as always, I love you. Thanks for being here :)

Hot Damn the Roots are Sexy: Still. It's hard not to love them, they have such a great stage presence and rep Philly like non other. I shot up to NYC to meet up with some friends and, while grabbing myself a drink, turned to check out the opening band. Turns out a friend of mine was opening for the Roots. How. Cool. Is. THAT?!?!?! Very cool...we all managed to climb back into the car by 3, get home by 5 and get to work by 8. I think I'm getting too old for that schedule!

Don't Stop Believin': Hold on to that feeeeeeeeeEEElllLLiiiNNNN! My first wedding coordinating gig went off without a hitch...well kinda. After I removed dead birds from the aisle, moved 150 chairs to the opposite side of a field in less than 15 minutes, was asked by the maitre d' if this was "what I was wearing", and sewn three bustles into Kendra's dress we were all set to go. Everyone had a wonderful time and the night ended exactly as it should have, with Journey. Congrats to Kendra & Dave!


All of this time with family and friends always gets me thinking about how fluid families have become. Good friends are sisters, nieces feel like your own children, pups are extensions of your arms. Each year we gather together for holidays, birthdays, graduations, housewarmings...and each year we have some new faces, some faces have also gone missing, some that weren't expected, some we saw from a mile away. So yes, different, but better? or worse?

The new faces can be so exciting; new babies, new puppies, new love...but the missing faces are always so stark and hurt when you least expect it. Eating a slice of pie, ordering veal piccata, standing with a friend before she walks down the aisle, opening a bottle of wine, holding a dozen roses, holding a single rose. In these moments our minds flash forward and backwards like a pendulum, with hope, with sadness, with butterflies, with heartache.

And we cling to memories as if they are fleeting, and warmth as it fades, with a desperation that if we don't hold tight enough, if the memories get foggy, that the moment, the love, the people will be lost. Is there a balance? How do we hold on? Do we whisper "I love you" whenever we think of them, and hope they're somewhere out there to hear us? Sit down with memories until they feel so real we can touch them?

To all the newcomers, welcome, we love you so much. To those lost, we love you still, and miss you endlessly. To those who will always be there, come rain or shine, thank you. And as always, limitless love for you too.


pictures to come....

1000 words

I didn't have a camera

If i had a camera it would have told you about the view of the sunset through a battered mesh fence from the Girard el stop. Above the avenue, looking down at cabs, and SUVs trying to dodge pot holes and new construction. The steeple of St John Newman piercing the fading blue sky, and clouds terrorizing the escaping sun. It might tell you about the different colors and perspective of my left and right eye;

switch, switch.
switch, switch.
camera a, camera b.
camera a, camera b.

It would have taken a blurred shot filled with commotion as the city flashed past like a flip book, our train racing through 80 blocks of Philadelphia's wealth and poverty. Above ground, underground, above ground. I watched the colors and shapes change, station to station, mirrored by the reflection of my brother. A reflection that has changed over the history of our taking sub rides together. He used to be shorter. I used to wear less makeup.

A camera would tell you about our stint in the 69th street terminal, getting lost in the maze of stairwells and revolving doors, then finally making it across Market Street, passing one to many people just looking for a little help. A quarter here, some food there, nothing too much, if it's not too much of a bother. Knowing full well that I was going to spend any available cash on overpriced merchandise and whiskey. Head down, walking just a little faster to avoid the pang of guilt for saying sorry buddy, can't help you.

We waited in line to find out that 2 beers and 2 shots of jameson is running at $35 collectively. A lens may have captured the belly laugh to follow. Or maybe not. I learned pretty quickly that a shot in a crowd turns into a half shot at the back of the room. Round two brought the wisdom to drink at a counter. $40 more got us matching tshirts. "can we geek out and wear them now?" "no....but we can later when we're shooting pool and singing obnoxiously at the bar." I love a good compromise.

The birds eye view with a wide angle shot of the room could have shown the rest of the hustle around us dissipate into slow motion, then softly disappear when i finally got the chance to talk things over with a guy who's seen it all; permed bangs in the second grade, running away from home with peanut butter crackers, failing chemistry, repeating mistakes; and still doesn't mind spending his nights going to see a show with me. Catching up on something on his mind, something on my mind. Remembering how funny he can be when he isn't wrapped up in being an asshole, just 'cause.

More beers, more music, more drums and we grab seats. Plush and red. Three trips to the bathroom later through crowds of women, or should I say girls, far too young to appreciate their seats, and the lights finally dim. If i had a high quality camera, and a solid tripod, it would have shown you the spotlight on the guts of the guitar, slowly panning out to reveal fingers attached to a hand, attached to a man with a voice I could recognize without ever meeting, and a stage of filled with musicians. Even slower yet, the infusion of red light emerging from the darkness, and finally the glow reaching our faces, bouncing from neighbor to neighbor.

If i had a camera it may have captured the panning light from head to toe, of the warmth that blue light creates on my eyelids, or the vibration that the bass line sends through my hip bones. It may have told about the moment when we were all finally communicating on the same page through pitch and tone. About the tingle in my nose that i feel every time I'm about to cry, and the wave of cool blood that runs down my face when I hear my favorite song.

It could have shown the small moment that my brother danced with me, or better yet, the hours that he let me stand in the crowd and dance alone. even when i was the only one standing, the only one dancing, and the only one singing along. All without a single demand for me to sit down. all without an eye roll. because he knew it's what i needed.

If i had a camera i would have been lazy, and would have returned with 5 pictures of my brother and i, and maybe a dark stage. I would have missed the reflection, the connection, the tingle in my nose. I would have let another concert pass without writing down how i really felt. How music finds a way to communicate when i can't, how cords have always felt right when the world is feeling oh so wrong. How music is the one of the few things that can make a rainy day bearable, a sunny day brighter, a shitty day tolerable, and bring a devastating day to an end.

Back on the subway, no words, no crazy drunken photo's. Just sound. Wheels on the tracks and a car filled with people humming, "i need you so much closer." And it's true, I do.

shows, shows, and more shows

Sitting around the other night with not much to do, I flipped through the area shows: JBs, Barbary, KungFu Necktie, the Fire, M Room...aha! the M Room, how you saved my Thursday night.

I was lucky enough to catch the opening band, and was floored by how good these guys are. Shipped in from Lousiana, this trio had amazing stage energy. After the show I met up with them, got to chatting, and managed to score two free cds! Their album really doesn't do them justice. I left the concert all glowy and bubbly, describing "if the Boss and Fall Out Boy birthed a child down south I think it would sound alot like these guys." People, I give you the Sons of William...

Message - Sons of William

Savannah - Sons of William

Lucifer Hands - Sons of William


Follow by Val Emmich, also a sure bet for musical entertainment....do listen, my fav being hurt more later, as he described as a song "for everyone that leaves a relationship while it's working, so you don't have to stick around for the bitter end." He also played a great song for those that have wandered far and wide "Back to Eastern Standard Time" that has only been played on this tour. Hopefully someday soon I can share.



more showing coming- ra ra riot/death cab for cute, gildon works & maria taylor. very.very. happy :)

i <3 215...

...and everyone knows it. I've been told that I'm philly's biggest cheerleader. And I am. I love this place. I'm running for mayor in 2027 (and I would appreciate your vote!). Not to say that I haven't enjoyed time spent in different corners of this country (and the world), but this will always be home. I find something new to love everyday.

Which is why I was oh so excited when I read this article. I was all smiles. I'm happy to read that other people, and cities (shout out to Ottawa!!) are noticing.

"What a great city looks like"

full house

man`cheetah (noun): gathering of old friends, new friends, and family requiring the bi monthly use of the oven, large consumption of beefy wine, and tiramisu.

man`cheetah (verb): -to mancheetah. to partake in mancheetah activities resulting in low wednesday productivity, dry mouth, nausea, and narcolepsy.

This week it was my week to cook. Normally not good for anyone, and I've done one HELL of a job dodging cooking for weeks now ("hey lan, will you make that awesome chicken you cook so well? hey kara, I haven't had tofu in forever, why don't I grab some for you?).

BUT if there's anything I've learned in the time spent in the kitchen, it's that if you wrap anything in bacon you're good to go. So alas, chicken stuffed with rosemary & gorgonzola, wrapped in bacon and baked at 350 for 30 or so minutes over brown rice.

Dante and Sherri were sweet enough to stop by with yummy salad, and Lana and Luke came over with tiramisu, Mama and Brian grabbed some wine, Jakey brought raw chicken and film, and Kara never showed (fell asleep at 4 in the afternoon...suspect?). Great group effort :)

This morning was extra hard, but it was so wonderful to have everyone fill the house with good stories and lots of laughs. I took the camera out for the first time in a while and found an old roll of film. Wondering what it could be filled with. Happy memories? Memories that should never be developed? Random pictures of the pups? I'll let you know...


**worth mentioning: last week nancy was in town and we had a great time catching up with with the gang. Drinks with jimmy at bar ferdinand (half price mondays, check it out) leading to inappropriate bar behavior, girls high reunion sleepover with mama mia and it's always sunny in philadelphia (horrible transition but always to good to have the girls over) and good times swankin it up at the red ball (R.I.P. red flats) followed by unnecessary argument with an unruly jb's bartender....i guess we'll never go back there!

plenty of great memories, so good to see you!! pictures are on their way....


**the old ceremony finally pulled their shit together and released their next album. stay tuned for a show near you, but in the meantime, feast your ears on this...

....what made me fall in love with them initially (not to mention Django is just damn dreamy...if you're reading this and are ever up for another whiskey let me know ;) )




....and the more recent musical candy (my fav's are murmur and til my voice is gone although i prefer the live version of TMVIG)....

enjoy!

7:45 am

I was laying in bed this morning staring at my alarm clock waiting for the perfect song to "wake up" to...didn't want to waste the beginning of the day on just any old song.

Then this came on...

VH1 TV Shows Music Videos Celebrity Photos News & Gossip

.....and then this came on....



...and then i decided it was time to wake up. I think you'll agree with me. A good way to start a week :)

happy listening!

sunday morning

I found myself walking through the city pretty early this weekend. I forget how dead the streets are on Sunday mornings. No traffic, no street carts, no cabs. There was snow on the ground this morning that was pretty alarming. I swore to christ it was warm when I went to bed. Snow? Really? Here?

I've been finding a new path, elated with this new-found feeling of freedom. The enormity of possibilities, the wonderful plans for the future, the comfort of the present. I've found light that was hidden, light I never met before, and light I thought was extinguished along the way. But I'm finding more and more, that walking, running, or crawling down this path is just what I needed.

Painting a new canvas. Cleaning out an old closet. Meeting a new friend. Reconnecting with old hobbies. Tasting new martini's. Revisiting old restaurants. Finding the new me, remembering the fun, spontaneous old me.

I think it's easy to forget that life is supposed to be worth living. That we work incredibly hard so we can relax at the end of the day, knowing the world is better for it. That if we take ourselves too seriously we'll miss out on the best jokes, and that at the end of the day we should be happy. If not, we're doing it all wrong. Or maybe, we're just on the wrong path.

I've missed the aimless wander around the city, when the streets are bare and you're only left with fresh snow and rosy cheeks. I got lost in the hustle of everyday, lost in the work weeks, lost in the to-do list, lost in the arguments...

I'm excited for the city to come alive this spring. To grow fresh azalea's, to open new restaurants, to expose new faces. This year it feels like we're walking through it again, the city and I. Growing, coming alive, holding on to the old roots, finding new passion. Together. I just need to turn the corner, and walk.

Deep breath.

Good morning sunshine...

right. i have a blog...

I promise that I've considered posting in the past 15 days, but never followed through. Before I forget...Oscar party!

Sean Penn won for Milk, I cried like an infant after his acceptance speech. If you haven't heard it, be sure to check it out. My lady crush, Kate Winslet, also won for best actress. I was disappointed that SlumDog swept the show. By the end of the night I was throwing chips and brie at the TV. Damn award winning children...

Upside:I still fit in my prom dress (circa 2002, and many...many gin martini's later)! And Wheeler wore a matching tie. What a guy!

Good times had by all, thank you friends for humoring me, adhering to the dress code, and walking my red carpet. You're all academy award winners to me.

Puppy Love!

It was freezing out, with super high winds, but we still managed to pull off puppy love. Not the turnout we hoped for, but non the less a success. The boys helped me set the place up, decorate, test the ice for the bar, and make sure the dog treats were up to par.


Fisher and I entered into the dog trick competition with our hugging/dancing routine. Unfortunately we were trumped by a Pug that could do everything short of mixing a drink. Our trick is way more impressive in my living room!

If you missed it this year, make sure you're around in May 2010 (madness, 20fucking10!) for the 5th Annual Puppy Love!!

is this it?

You should all know that I have a pair of ballerina toe-shoes in my closet. My friend Lisa was the mistress (head bitch) of the University of Utah Ballet Company, and gave me her old shoes when she was done dancing the crap out of them one day. Granted, my last run in with ballet was in 1988, and I'm pretty sure I was "let go" from the program for a laundry list of complaints (short attention span, disruptive in class, lack of coordination), but I still think that one day, if shit really hits the fan, I can always fall back on being a mediocre ballerina.

Anyway, when I have exceptionally bad days, or when I can't think straight, I put on my shoes, but on my favorite song of the day and I dance around my house. I dance, and I dream. I dream that I'm a principal ballerina, that knows exactly what she's doing. Which steps to make, and in which direction.

I mention this because I was watching TV this week and a commercial came on showing mothers pushing around strollers filled with ballerina's, astronauts, police men, doctors, etc. I'm pretty sure it's for Goddard school, or something to do with nutrition?

By the end of the commercial they get to the point that all of the people being pushed around are actually toddlers dreaming about becoming ballerina's, astronaut's, becoming big important adults that make their own big boy and big girl decisions.

We are all told in school that as long as we work hard enough, and study religiously, we can fulfill our dreams. In a cynical way, after the 45 second time slot, I thought about the 3% acceptance rate at Julliard, and the next to nothing chance of being admitted into NASA. Not to mention the socioeconomic factors that play into what schools and opportunities are available to various children. End of the day, it's hard to look a toddler in the eye, and give them the God's honest truth; that even if they work their absolute hardest, it might not be enough.

It also raised an important question; is this it? Are we all becoming the adults we dreamed of as children? When did we stop dreaming of being an Olympic gymnast? Or owning a stable filled with ponies? Or being a world renowned interior designer?

God, I can look back and remember my idea of adulthood. Thinking that it was going to be cookies for breakfast everyday, no bed time, and an endless sleepover. Even when I moved into my first apartment I was amazed by the freedom. No notes letting people know where I was going, having kegs in the house without asking permission, smoking on my front step because I could. I didn't think of the adult decisions, the bills, the lack of free time, and the struggle.

So how do we hold on to our childhood dreams in an adult world? How do we take it all back and become the ballerina we always wanted to be? Is it too late? Is it ever too late? Or have dreams become so fleeting that they don't last from childhood to adulthood?

I don't really know how to end this post, because I don't know how to answer those questions. I was told recently that if you want to do something, you need to get a calendar, circle a date, and do it. Maybe that can serve as advice for us all.

In the meantime, I think it's time to start dreaming big again. I have my shoes on...you should get a pair too.

The cutie pie turned two on Feb 1st!
Short recap:

Since Beau was turning 2, Mama saved a 2 dollar bill to attach to her present. For my brother, this translated into creating an entire John Adams Birthday theme with an end result of 10 John Adams wigs and cooresponding collars. I have to say, Jakey rocks the wig like it's his job. (I'm way too sheepish to post photo's of me and my brothers in revolutionary wigs.)

Beau got a mountain of gifts, including plenty of books, a hand made doll from Mama, and a bubble machine from her dear ol' dad. The bubble machine was a HUGE hit, especially when you consider that Bubbles to Beau is like Crack to Junkie.

When she started unwrapping a nearby todler tried to "help" (or STEAL!) her birthday thunder by unwrapping presents. Two can play that game. Beaudi took her presents into the closet and unwrapped them there. It took a little convincing but she finally rejoined the party to unwrap in public, under the protection of her father :)

After presents was cake. She got two: one that looked like a piggy bank and one that looked like a 2 dollar bill. However, Beau decided that she eats cake naked....and in the bathtub....

...and then naturally a bath to wash off all the frosting....

I'm not sure if it's okay to post pics of Beau in the bathtub. But that face is too darn cute to keep to myself :)

Happy Birthday Beau!!

ronny & loretta

So I'm watching Moonstruck. Luck of all luck, it was on TV after the Grammy awards. I've had a special relationship with Moonstruck for a long, long, time. It's been mildly interrupted since my VHS player was "adopted" (or stolen during my Salt Lake stint) by my mother. Anyhow, you can always count on Ronny for a poignant quote:

"Loretta, I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn't know this either, but love don't make things nice - it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and DIE. The storybooks are BULLSHIT! Now I want you to come upstairs with me and GET IN MY BED!"

Oh Ronny...oh Cher. Gotta love that outfit. And the perm. And the lipstick that's still perfect the next morning. Cinematic genius if I say so myself. Go rent a copy. Aquire some Italian pearls of wisdom. I'm mentally retrieving my VHS as I type.

Ti amo.

fabulous

I found this link through Sherri. She always finds the greatest things on YouTube. It's pretty damn cute. Thanks for sharing darlin!

that's enough outta you..

Gotta say, Tuesday, February 3rd was not a fun one. Not even close. I think I officially quit on the 3rd at 5:15. Too many awful events spread across too few hours.

So, lets talk about how great Wednesday, February 4th has been. (Aside from my house lacking heat. Oh oil heat. You're such a tease with your line-on-empty-gauge.)

Just a few things worth mentioning. Small, but wonderful.

1. My amaryllis is in bloom. It literally happened over night. There are 4 blooms at once. Which is kinda like a four leaf clover; doesn't happen very often, usually 2 at a time. So I'll accept my good luck charm and share with you. Stay tuned for more house plant news (my life is thrilling).

2. In the early...very early....morning hours of the 4th Jakey walked with me through the streets of Fishtown with the dogs. Through 8 inches of snow. It was beautiful, and peaceful. I love getting to snow before anyone else gets a chance to ruin it. I hate that by morning it turns black from SEPTA buses, and freezes on my windshield. Always good to walk aimlessly with my brother.

3. I went to Philly Brewing Company today and learned that they changed the Newbold recipe (shh, I didn't say a word). So stay tuned for new and improved brew. I was sent home with a 6 pack for market research. After gathering a panel, it sounds like vast improvements have been made.

4. After watching a musical with my roommate, I've since changed my opinion of the Beatles.

I would really love to buy one of those snazzy pocket sized digital camera's. Then I wouldn't have to use my phone. And I could show you how the pups look like Santa when they play in the snow....one day. One step at a time.

love me, love me

and i knew that you loved me a little bit less

when you ordered me a Telemore Dew

as if overnight Jameson was too rich for this Galloway girl.

and before i could make my voice stop

i began to sing to you

thinking that our voices would melt into notes on a bar.

love me, love me, love me, say you do

and now as i sit here and examine the lines around your eyes

i wonder if my voice fell flat

or if the song fell on deaf ears?

and i wonder how long ago i lost you

how long i've been sitting here singing

how long you've been sitting across from me waiting to say your goodbyes.

and before long my mouth grew chapped from the overworked air

as you told me that if i was truly a lady

i would leave you to your whiskey.

and i did

as I expected, you never ran after me

like a gentleman would.

and with that, goodbye.

for my love is like the wind, and wild is the wind

how did i forget?

I finally got a chance to go down to Virginia to visit Isabeau, those just tuning in, my beautiful niece. She's turning 2 on the 2nd of February. I'm not sure if anyone else has been around an almost-2-year-old lately, but they're a ton of fun.

She sings, she runs, she talks, she throws temper tantrums. The whole bit. And she's pretty great at all of it. Her newest song goes a little like this "la la la la, Elmo's world". Ten shades of fabulous.

Anyhow, while I was down there, Jakey tried to put her down for a much needed nap. Isabeau had different plans...

He took her back to try to convince her to lay down and sleep, only to have her (and him trailing behind her) reemerge from the back bedroom, tears streaming down her big rosy cheeks, bottom lip stuck out.

"You're not ready for bed?"
head shake, NO.
"Then come here little girl!"

She ran across the room, climbed up on my lap, and fell asleep for an hour and a half.
Then I fell asleep too. Cause why not. I miss nap time.

Beau, I love you. Jakey, I love you for so many things, but especially for giving us something so wonderful.

(sorry the resolution is so poor, but I think you get the idea)

Revolutionary Road

How do you break free without breaking apart?

I've been wanting to go see Revolutionary Road for months, mostly because of my obsession with Kate Winslet, and furthermore, my obsession with the Kate-Leo reunion tour. But holy hell, I did not expect to walk out of the movie feeling like I needed to throw up. The entire movie was uncomfortable and tense, just waiting for the next horrible twist of suburban relationship agony. Just when the pang of "oh god I can't believe she just said that" faded, it was replaced with "sweet jesus how could he??!!".

I cried a ton, not just because it was sad, but because it was down right depressing.

I don't discourage anyone from paying their $8.50 (+ $4.00 popcorn) to go see this flick. The cinamatography was on point, Sam Mendes did a terrific job directing, the acting was amazing. But be prepared.

The sweetie and I left the movie theater and didn't really want to look at each other for fear of....crying? breaking out into a Kate-Leo fight? spontaneously ruining each others dream of acting? All of that mixed into one.

Sam, Kate, and Leo, thank you for teaching us a valuable lesson. Don't move to the suburbs. Stay in the city where it's happy and safe.

Per Se

Everyone was standing around talking about the grandeur of a restaurant and rattling off names and places unfamiliar, and I braved the question "What is Per Se?". It's always hard to speak up in a circle of knowledgeable people and admit to ignorance.

"Per Se?" The sweetie stared at me like I was a sea urchin in drag. "Per Se?!?! Um, its Thomas Keller's hailed restaurant in New York, I've been wanting to go there for years, (inaudible shock noises to follow)....". He's obviously been into this guy for longer than he's been into me. However, due to scheduling, couldn't make it to dinner, so he sent me in his stead, APPALLED that I didn't know the legendary Mr. Keller.

Apparently we've already eaten at one of his restaurants in Las Vegas. Another fact I only learned through an awkward public question to my kitchen staff. "Hey guys, have you ever heard of Per Se?". Deadpan to follow. Yes Emily, of course we've heard of Per Se. So has half of the country you half wit. A trip to the cooking book cupboard later I was shown Mr. Keller's cookbook, "French Laundry" (the name of his flagship restaurant in Napa Valley). After reading the back cover "yada, yada, yada, french food, yada, Bouchon, yada....HEY, I'VE BEEN THERE!" "Bouchon? In Vegas?" "Yea, it was pretty amazing" "I hate you."

My kitchen wouldn't talk to me for the rest of the day. Or the week. Actaully they just barely started talking again.

Needless to say, there were very few people that were actually happy to see me go, who's voices weren't laced with sheer disdain that I was going instead of them. I guess it would be like the sweetie going to Fashion Week and not me, or for my whole kitchen staff to high tail out to Sorrento without the proper awe. But regardless, I was NOT willing to let poor attitudes stop me. I was putting on my best black pencil skirt, cutest black top, and sexiest black pumps paired with borrowed black Chanel bag, borrowed black BMW 328i, and borrowed black frock. Add some red lipstick and I'm the modern day Cinderella.

I barely made it up there in time, after battling with PhillyCarShare for my car, but Jesse and James to the rescue! They saved me and got me up to NYC in time. Made sure I didn't leave the house looking like a complete fool, double checked my directions, toll money, and made sure I had the confidence to walk into a four start restaurant like I owned the place. ("James, what am I looking like?" "Fabulous, get in the car") I love my friends. I really don't know how I find them all.

I barely made it because I took the wrong tunnel (damn you Holland!). I showed up 20 minutes late, BEGGED the valet at the Trump Tower to take my car, and sprinted across 8th Avenue in heels, but I made it. Met up with my dinner partners, who were gracious enough to wait for me, and took it all in.

The space is beautiful with sweeping views of New York. Quiet and above the bustle. The linens, flatware, and plates were flawless with beautiful lines. The servers are gentle, calming, and accommodating. It all felt so surreal, and not because it was Per Se. Because it was an experience.

I think we all have moments where we look around and think, this is it. I think I'm an adult. I think I made it, or at least, I think I'm MAKING it. I'm not so bad, I can carry myself. I can walk across a room with confidence. I can experience wonderful things. I can wear read lipstick and be okay with it.

I took a few minutes to revel in my adulthood. Even if I wasn't supposed to be there. Even if I wasn't the ideal candidate for a Thomas Keller dinner. Even if I was 20 minutes late. I took a minute to look around and just REVEL. Do a dance in my head, celebrate with class, then turn to the main event. Eating. Once we started eating, all reveling went to the wayside to make room for an enormous amount of delectable French cuisine.

We ordered 9 courses. But got 16. Holy foie gras.

I tasted everything, but I can't boast that I finished everything. My dinner companions were sweet enough to finish my plate for me because they "didn't love the dishwasher enough" to watch a Nova Scotia lobster tail in a butter sauce go back to the dish pit. I'm embarrassed to say that I don't remember all 16 courses, something that I've been scolded for since my return, but it was all delicious. A few examples being:

"OYSTERS AND PEARLS"
"Sabayon" of Pearl Tapioca with Island Creek Oysters
and Sterling White Sturgeon Caviar

TERRINE OF HUDSON VALLEY MOULARD DUCK FOIE GRAS
Black Winter Truffles, Frisée Lettuce and Balsamic Glaze
with Toasted Brioche

"BOMBE AU PAMPLEMOUSSE"
Chocolate "Roulade," Manjari Chocolate Mousse
and Grapefruit Curd with Pink Grapefruit Ice Cream

We ate from 9:30-2:00am. Undoubtably the longest meal of my life. I could go on to gush about the plating, and the flavors, but I'm affraid if I repeat it too many times it'll be like chewing on a peice of Kobe Beef for too long, it'll lose the flavor, and I'll lose the feeling that only I could really remember.

I got home at 4 am. Jesse slept on my couch, and came to pick me up just in time for me to turn back into a pumpkin. The BMW got traded for my '91 red civic, the heels for dansko clogs, the red lipstick for chapstick. And no, I'm sorry, I don't have any pictures (sorry Mom), but I think you get the idea.

I truly hope everyone gets the chance to feel that way, whether it's during a swanky dinner, or through a professional moment, or within a relationship, or hidden in a daily activity. It's important to feel that wonderful, that loved, that important, and that full. You don't need to go to Per Se, but if you do, say hi to Mr. Keller for me.

made me laugh :)

It might be wrong that I laughed but...I mean come on, what's so wrong with being enticed by pancakes?

For more secrets, check out PostSecret updated on Sundays!

Holiday Fun!

23rd: Isabeau is the next Motzart!

 I got a wonderful phone call on Tuesday to let me know that the infamous, the darling, the lovely Isabeau would be ALL OURS for a few days. Surprise half day at work and a scramble to Roxborough later, I was hanging out with the coolest 1.75 year old I know. She's talking a ton now, and I couldn't be happier, because she has some pretty great things to say. She's into mimicking a ton, which is wonderful in a lot of ways. I taught her how to play the piano, how to be "gentle" with the dogs, how to wash her hands, but I'm also thinking she may have picked up some vocab during her trip that my mom wasn't too happy about. I forget that you can't say fuck, shit, damn, and bitch around kids that act like a sponge. 

24th: Christmas Eve at the Smith house

Jakey made an AWESOME Christmas eve seven fish dinner for all ten of us. Fish is really hard to keep warm, so prepping and cooking 7 fish courses is always tricky, and he pulled it off beautifully. Then we had a fabulous time watching Isabeau rip everyone's presents open. Nice work babe! Thanks for dinner Jake! 

 

25th: Merry Christmas!

Sweet lord I hate airplanes, and I really hate cabs that smell of stale cigarettes and vanilla popourie, and the site of airports at 5 in the morning, but it was ALL worth it to fly into Salt Lake for a white Christmas. We were welcomed with stockings that I could rent out in rittenhouse, chock full of socks, candy, tea, and self help books. Not to mention fresh eggs benny and cut fruit. Delish!  

26th: Exercise is Bad

I gotta say, my first snowshoeing experience was alot of fun. For everyone that doesn't know what a snowshoe IS: it's those tennis racket looking things that you strap to your feet to walk over deep snow. During my ride up the canyon I was told that "Yes Emily, it's kinda like Jesus on water but on snow", but that was a HUGE LIE. Snowshoeing, while not as extreme as skiing, is not for the light hearted. It takes some serious stamina. Stamina that the sweetie and I have lost in the past few months...months largely consumed by wine and food consumption. We blamed the altitude for our "slow"shoeing, but I think we both knew that we needed to get back in shape! Pics to come! 

We also got the chance to go on a double date at Colton's restaurant where I fell in love with a beet salad. Oh. So. Good. Thanks!

27th: Ski lodge adventure 

The sweetie was hell bent on meeting up with his best friend in Salt Lake (ALTA and all things mountain), to strap on the fiberboard and throw himself off a cliff. While I was hell bent on sitting in the ski lodge, consuming mass amounts of alcohol, and reading the trashiest magazines that Salt Lake city had to offer (ironically the trashiest I found was O magazine: The color edition). He had a great time, but managed to pick up a flu like virus while in the mountains: further proof that skiing is BAD FOR YOU. Later that night we met up with some of his old friends for dinner. Wonderful day! 

 

28th: Delicious!!

We were lucky enough to have people cook for us all week, this night was no exception! My requests were met with delicious lasagna and garlic bread, followed by this amazing peppermint ice cream pie. Then I managed to convince my other half to go see The amazing adventures of Benjamin Button (something or another) and it was a good time. Brad Pitt is still hot. Even better on the big screen. And the movie was surprisingly funny. Not to mention it was the first time in years that the sweetie didn't fall asleep during a movie. Niiiice.

  

29th: Red Iguana & dinner with the old crew

One of THE best restaurants in Salt Lake is this little shack of a Mexican Joint called the Red Iguana, if you ever make it out west, make a stop, it'll be worth your time. However there is concern that they changed their chips. Could be a tragedy, however, in R.I. defense, the day that we stopped in a car barreled through the side wall of the restaurant, taking out a quarter of their dining room. Chips may have been at the end of their list.

Later that night we got to catch up with Cate and Kris, along with other old friends from Salt Lake. We had a great time drinking too much wine, eating too much mac and cheese, and telling stories that we should have taken to the grave. Cate I love you.  

30th: Brunch and pedicures with the girls

Continue amazing girl time with Cate. Add Kelly, add pedicures, equals fabulous morning with the girls. We grabbed buttery pastries, people magazine, an unnatural shade of pink, and went at it. Woooonderful time unwinding and shit talking.  

31st: movies with the Soelbergs, fly back to Philly!

Spent the greater part of the day saying goodbye to Shelby, Jon and baby Owen. Thanks for letting us stay, and putting up with us! After a few flicks on the couch, headed to the airport and back to Philly.

We were in an exit row on our way back, and we got an all too serious speech from our flight attendant about the responsibility we had in an exit row. I still don't think he was confident in my ability to pull the lever up, but I did my best not to yell back at him that if we did in fact crash we were ALL FUCKED. When he made his way back with the drink cart we ordered a Bacardi and coke and a double whiskey. That'll show him we're responsible!! 

 

1st: Happy 2009!

We barely made it in town to watch the ball drop, and I only wore my party dress for a hot second, and yes we ran in the new year while watching some ESPN special in Las Vegas, but we still shared fabulous champagne, and I still got a kiss, so I say it's a success! Happy new year darlings! 

2nd: Philly Fun

Fabulous surprise of the week? I drove past Nicki Tonor running in PHILA! Seriously? She lives in Boston. Very random, very wonderful. Headed to North Bowl to celebrate Regina's birthday (and Nicki being in town) only to find out that no,not only is Regina turning 25, but she's ENGAGED! Congrats!  

Phew! What a week, and updated so late!

And so long, oh so many details, I'm sorry, really..

Won't happen....ever....again...