Rounding it up

Can it really be the end of 2007? It's hard to believe that just a year ago I moved to NJ after living in the same apartment in Glenside, PA for 9 years. The change in scenery and surroundings has completely turned my life around.

This calls for a list. The top 5 highlights of 2007 (in no particular order)
Note that technically, I moved to Collingswood in 2006, so the move itself doesn't exactly qualify.

1. Two Fantastic Friends
My newest friend Elizabeth and I were introduced late last winter by a mutual friend, and immediately felt like we had known each other for years. She's the kind of friend you can talk to about anything. Hours go by during our chat-fests, and I treasure every moment. Alison has been a friend for many years, but since my move to Collingswood we have bonded like sisters. 2007 simply wouldn't have been the banner year it was without her loving friendship.

2. Rock Climbing
It was something I had always wanted to try. And watching Bear Grylls do it on Discovery inspired me that much more. I'll never EVER forget my first trip up a rock face, with the circulation in my toes cutting off from the tight shoes, the comforting feeling of resistance in the belay rope, and the unexpected ease I felt nearly three stories up. It was beyond exhilarating. And I'll amend this entry by adding my first whitewater rafting excursion—another thing I always wanted to try, and finally found the motivation to do.

3. Cooper River Walks
I couldn't count the number of times I have visited the path surrounding the Cooper River. It's a mere three blocks from my place, and about a 4-mile loop around. I've used it to sweat, to think, to breathe, and to enjoy the view. I've seen egrets, scullers, sailors and sunsets. I've walked it jogged it, ran it and sat on the banks of it. I've photographed it too. Sometimes I go it alone, and sometimes Alison and her dog Neemo join me. With them it's more about talking—and sometimes swimming for Neemo—than walking ... but no matter the circumstance, it's always good. Beyond good.

4. Gatherings at My Place
In the 9 years I lived in Glenside, I could probably count on one hand the number of times I entertained more than 1-2 people at a time. In the year I've been in Collingswood, there's no doubt I've already surpassed that number, or even doubled it. It started on move-in day. There were at least 6 of us in a caravan from Glenside to Cwood, and after unloading everything, we stood around my new kitchen eating pizza and drinking beer... and suddenly I realized that this group of friends from all walks of my life were meeting for the first time and enjoying each other! Since then I've thrown several parties, had impromptu dinner gatherings, hosted 2 clothes swaps, and even sat 7 for Thanksgiving dinner! It's such a good feeling every time people gather here.

5. I'm Really a Jewelry Designer
Since I was a little kid, jewelry has fascinated me. My first earring designs were made from tape recorder parts when I was about eight years old. I've made lots of jewelry since then, but this year was my most creatively inspired year ever. Not only did I begin to develop a cohesive line of designs, but out of nowhere, a local gallery sought me out and invited me to show my work there. So between the gallery, launching my etsy shop and excellent friend/co-worker sales, I have suddenly found myself in the midst of having my own small business! I'm proud of what I've made, and I can't wait to see what I make next.

Items that almost made the list:
My fabulous porch, visiting the roof of the Kimmel Center, getting my tarot cards read, discovering the Discovery Channel, Perkins Art Center, and turning 40 (and the everlasting party that came with it).

2007 has rocked. So much has changed and improved for me this year. I have a few goals and aspirations for 2008, including lots more of all of the above, plus learning yoga, returning to Greece, canceling my online dating subscription for good, and quitting my 3-cigarette-per-day habit. CHEERS!!!

Up I go!

I have taken hundreds of pictures of the Kimmel Center. In fact, someone recently asked me if there was an angle of the building I hadn't yet taken a picture of. I thought for a moment, then replied, "yes, there is ONE, but I have to wear a harness to get it!" Well, after waiting and wondering and wishing for 5 years, I finally got a ride in the lift that takes the window cleaners up on the roof. They fitted me with a full-body harness, showed me how to hold onto my rope, and flipped the switch on the lift's motor. I spent about an hour up there in the blazing sun and filthy grime. Those window cleaners are a unique blend of daredevil and perfectionist. They are particular about their squeegees, they make jokes about lift motor malfunctions, they clip, unclip and hop around up there like acrobats. It's truly impressive. My trip up there with them was a huge highlight of my 7 years here at the Kimmel. And I finally got the shot I was missing!

I'll post the photos I took of the cleaners on the Kimmel Center's flickr later this week.

City Survivor?

I'm a huge fan of "Survivor". I've written about it before. It's a great show. And I'm thrilled and excited about tonight's premiere, Survivor: China. It's a beautiful country, rich in aesthetically-pleasing traditions. But enough with the picturesque landscapes! When will Mark Burnett, Jeff Probst and the gang bring it to the streets?? I want Survivor in the city.

Survivor: Soup Kitchen
Survivor: Broad Street Concourse
Survivor: Crack House
Survivor: Subway

The possibilities are endless! And talk about challenging. The smells, the bodily fluids, the trash, the pigeons, the rodents, the locals, the commuters -- it would be a challenge just to watch!

Yo, Survivor: Philly. You got a prollem wit dat?

More than just ice cream

After a wonderful dinner with an old friend tonight, we met up with another good friend for dessert. The three of us don't get to spend much time together these days. Work, relationships, life ... they all get in the way. So time together is precious, and we never squander a millisecond. We savor it like home made ice cream.

After we ordered -- chocolate with sprinkles for one, butter pecan with chocolate sauce for the other, and peanut butter for me -- we hashed out the issues of the moment. No stones left unturned, no mishigoss taboo. It all poured out over ice cream.

Nuggets of life's mysterious wisdom come out of such conversations, like beacons or light bulbs ... pathways to clearer thinking. I treasure those nuggets (and the friends who inspire them) like gold.

My belly is full, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Put up a parking lot

A friend of mine and I were at the beach last weekend. It was Labor Day, so nearly everyone else in the Philadelphia region was at the beach with us. The weather was glorious, the water perfection. I couldn't wait to get to the boardwalk, though, to savor summer's last taste of my favorite confection: Kohr Brothers frozen peanut butter custard with chocolate sprinkles.

There's a Kohr Brothers on the Ocean City, NJ boardwalk at 10th Street. So we started looking for parking at around 6th. We drove all the way to 13th and back through to 2nd Street more than times than I care to admit, and everywhere we looked, someone else was pulling into a spot. But could we find one? Not on our custard-starved souls.

Finally, I pulled up behind one of the amusement park back entrances at 10th Street, put my flashers on, and we took turns running up to Kohrs while the other stayed with the car. It was surprisingly easy and went off without a hitch. We even got bold and drove up to 13th for Johnson's caramel corn. Again, easy as pie, very satisfying. And though part of me had hoped for a boardwalk stroll, our stealth maneuvers protected us from what could have been a chaotically annoying end to our lovely, serene day. The Ocean City boardwalk (especially on Labor Day weekend) is nothing short of a mob scene.

All of this struck me, several days later, as an apt metaphor for my life. I say I want the full experience -- chaos and all -- and I go about the chase of finding my place from which to launch the adventure, but I'm always one step behind everyone else. I watch the rest of the world secure their spots just before I get there, and there's nothing left over for me. Meanwhile, part of me feels like it's just as well, because somewhere in the back of my mind, all I really want is to grab an illicit, temporary spot from which to get the minimum, immediate satisfaction. Then I'm gone. No commitment to a lengthy stay required.

Dammit! I want to be ready to build a parking lot of my very own. A safe, secure place from which to launch any and all adventures life brings. A home base where my car will always have its spot. My tool belt is loaded with the appropriate stuff, and the bulldozer has leveled the ground. But it's a gravel pit until the right person comes along with the pavers to smooth the way.

20 years?!

There were only 48 kids in my high school class. Very small, very insular school. Which was good and bad. Good because it provided a sense of groundedness. It was a strong, solid community. Bad because it was so small, everyone knew everything about everyone. And if you started there in kindergarten, your social place was set in stone from then on. It was nearly impossible (or at least extremely daring) to reinvent yourself or try anything (or anyone) new. If, God forbid, you transfered in later (especially post-junior high), everyone immediately defined you by the first person you happened to stand next to in the hall. It could take years to undo any unwanted associations and create your desired social niche. And by then everyone was off to college.

What a challenge. I loved it.

Next weekend is my 20-year reunion. Well, technically, 21 years, but our class couldn't get it together last year to organize a party, so we hitched onto the class of '87. We're such slackers. They're not much better, considering that the party will be at the local dive bar where we all went to get served underage back in the day!

I'm nervous to see everyone. Mostly because I know they'll all be wondering why I haven't gotten married and had kids like the rest of them. I guess I wonder that too ... but I trust that my life has gone its own path, and with no regrets, I've enjoyed most of it. No complaints. Besides, I've always done things my own way rather than following the crowd, so it's probably what everyone expects of me! That was, after all, my place in the social schema.

What everyone expects shouldn't matter anyway, right? But reunions bring that out in the best of us.

Stomach ache

Do you ever get that paranoia hours after eating something that it's going to make you sick? It happens to me now and then. Maybe because I hate puking so much. Most people do, don't they? It's been years since I've puked, and I hope it stays that way.

Tonight I made a tuna melt for dinner. The book I'm reading, Into the Wild by John Krakauer, mentions that the last decent meal Chris McCandless ate before taking up residence in an abandoned bus in the Alaskan wilderness was a tuna melt given to him by the last person to see him alive. Naturally, I've had a craving.

So tonight I mixed tuna with low-fat mayo and some salsa, all of which were from newly-opened containers. I used fresh rye bread too. But the cheese was questionable. It's been around awhile. Pre-sliced, low-fat swiss from Trader Joe's. Looked fine, smelled fine, tasted fine. Tasted great, actually. Damn good tuna melt.

But I've been queasy since about an hour after I ate it. My guess is all's well — it's been at least three hours now and I haven't had any cold sweats or dry mouth. Still, I'm paranoid. Can't quite get myself to go to bed without knowing the coast is clear.

I just ate three Tums. Can't hurt. Sorry, this entry is kinda gross.

Defending Bear

All this flap about Bear Grylls. It's been reported that the host of Discovery Channel's "Man vs. Wild" show doesn't always rough it the way it appears on TV. He has, on occasion, slept in hotels rather than in the wild, eaten candy bars provided by the film crew rather than starve, and floated on rafts made with help from crew members rather than on his own.

Some say it's an outrage. I say it's entertainment!

This is TELEVISION, and Bear is the host of a show. It's not a serious documentary, it's an hour-long, weekly show meant to provide tips about surviving in the wild. Of course there's editing, scripting, help, dramatization and trickery. That's television! It's naive to think otherwise.

It's not as if anyone could question Bear's authenticity. He's not just TV host beefcake with a pretty smile, good camera presence and likable personality. This guy knows what he's doing out there. He summited Everest at age 23 (then a record), led the first team to circumnavigate the UK on personal watercraft, and broke a world record by flying a gas-powered paraglider over the Himalayas. Not to mention his time with the UK Special Forces Selection, serving as a soldier, trained in unarmed combat, desert and winter warfare, combat survival, medics, parachuting, signals, evasive driving, climbing and explosives. His time with them was cut short when he shattered his back in a parachuting accident. Needless to say, he's paid more than his dues.

So let's not pretend that this guy doesn't know how to do all the things he demonstrates on his show. The fact that he gets a little help for the purposes of good TV is simply no big deal.

If you've ever seen "Survivorman" you'll notice the difference immediately. Les Stroud's show, also on Discovery (currently airing in place of Man vs. Wild), borders on boring. Why? Because Stroud works so hard to be completely authentic! He gets strangely loopy when he's hot and dehydrated, he films himself sitting out the sun's rays in the shade (snore), and he doesn't try hard enough to truly explain everything he's doing on camera (like how a scorpion tastes, how he managed to cook an ostrich egg, or the way insect bites feel). Maybe his show is more authentic, but its also much less watchable. Take your pick.

If you've never seen it, catch an episode of "Man vs. Wild" sometime (provided Discovery doesn't cave under the pressure and cancel it). You'll quickly find that Bear is fun to watch no matter what might happen off-camera. Sit back, relax and be entertained, inspired, grossed out and delighted (and the beefcake ain't bad either).

Ode to the prequel

Wikipedia says: "A prequel is a work that portrays events which include the structure, conventions, and/or characters of a previously completed narrative, but occur at an earlier time." A prequel won't generally ruin the fun of the original work should you happen to experience it first. But resist the temptation to put the works in chronological order. It's so much more satisfying to get the back story after the characters have grabbed you in their prime.

Have you seen Wicked yet? The musical about the witches of Oz before Dorothy dropped in? See it. Unless you were in the vast minority of Americans who did NOT grow up with an annual dose of The Wizard of Oz movie (or you weren't, but disliked it for some inexplicable reason), see Wicked!

Wicked provides an alternate, sympathetic view of the Wicked Witch of the West (named Elphaba by Wicked novelist Gregory McGuire in homage to L. Frank Baum who wrote the original Oz books), complete with a trampy mother, hateful father, crippled sister, romantic inclinations and sense of humor. It also sheds light on Glinda, the Good Witch, whose perky popularity is equally lovable and nauseating.

But my favorite parts of the story came when details (some huge and some minute) surfaced about the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, the Scarecrow, the Wicked Witch of the East and the Wizard himself. Was all of it believable? Would Mr. Baum approve? Hard to say. Probably not entirely. But no matter.

Catching a glimpse into the history of Oz was fascinating!!! Almost as good as getting the back story on Mrs. Rochester (Bertha) in Jean Rhys' Wide Sargasso Sea, the prequel to my favorite book of all time, Jane Eyre.

The Breners

I grew up across the street from Art and Linda Brener. Theirs was the coolest house on the block as far as I was concerned. They had all this really great art that, as a kid, I didn't understand, but couldn't stop looking at. Every time I went to their house to play, I was always much more focused on the things on their walls and shelves. And the fact that some of it was actually signed by them, well, that just astounded me beyond comprehension.

You mean someone who lives here, in this little town where I live, is actually a real artist?! Impossible. No, possible!

Art (or Buzz as his wife called him) and Linda Brener (always Mr. and Mrs. Brener to me) encouraged me without words to become an artist. They inspired me without even trying. I remember everything about that house on Mather Road. The way the spherical spindles on their modern, metal-framed couch could screw off; the fake flower held by the knight statue at the foot of their stairs; the Jasper Johns painting in their living room; the jade and bonsai plants on the dining room window sill; the massive collection of family photos on top of their black upright piano; the way I felt when they bought one of my raku sculptures my senior year of college!

The Breners are special people. I hadn't seen them in years, and then the other night I was out to dinner with friends and there they were. Even without my glasses on, I spotted Mr. Brener from way across the room. I couldn't get up fast enough, and my legs were much too slow to take me there! They moved to NJ to be closer to their daughter and grand kids, and are now practically neighbors again after all these years.

The painting in the photo is by Linda Brener, and I have to thank my childhood friend Betsy for giving it to me. I treasure it. In fact, it hangs directly above my computer and I look at it every day. Good, good people, the Breners. I look forward to getting reacquainted after all these years.

Whitewater

My second adventure of the summer has officially come and gone today. Whitewater rafting in the Lehigh River Gorge. It was only about a class 3, and for the most part was pretty tame ... but there were definitely some thrilling moments on the water. My raftmates and I got stuck on a few rocks, and more than once we had a person overboard, but since no one got hurt, it just made the day that much more fun!

But the most important thing I learned all day is that whitewater rafting, on fairly calm rapids anyway, is much more about who can toss the most amount of water out of a bailing bucket onto another raft than it is about navigating the river. I spent as much time ducking so that my raftmates could douse the other rafts as I did paddling. It did little good, as I was drenched from the outset anyway... which was fine by me!

Nonetheless, my arms and shoulders got an intense workout. And the sun was brutal (note to self: wear a hat or bandanna next time), but thanks to the 30 SPF, I'm not nearly as burned as many of the others. My rear end feels like I've been on a horse all day, so that's a bit unpleasant. All small prices to pay for a gorgeous day on the water.

I took along a water-safe (disposable) camera, so as soon as the photos are processed, I'll post them on flickr.

It has me in its grip

I'm not much of a reader. I mean, I read the paper everyday, and have two magazine subscriptions that I faithfully read (Prevention and Oprah), but they hardly count. When it comes to books, I tend to either get bored within the first 20 pages and give up, or get completely enthralled to the point where the book is all I think about. I've even been known to have dreams that take place in the scenes of the books I'm reading. And during my Bronte phase, I had to be careful not to speak in polite olde English, like Jane Eyre.

So what am I reading now? Into Thin Air, the personal account of the 1996 Mount Everest climbing disaster, by Jon Krakauer. It's astonishingly well written, and gripping from the introduction. There are many hairy and unnerving tangential anecdotes scattered throughout the actual Everest story, about all the different people on the mountain with Krakauer. Many of them semi-famous climbers with colorful pasts. Others are Sherpas who have made distinct reputations for themselves for one reason or another. I'm enjoying these detours almost as much as the actual story itself.

I'm currently on page 117, of 333 and I'm already sad thinking of finishing it.

Raku You

Raku is my favorite type of ceramics work. The typical raku pottery you see often isn't to my taste -- it gets kitchy. But the rustic, unpredictable surfaces that can be achieved using the raku firing technique are truly unique and wonderful. The image at right is a Raku tile/plaque I made several years ago. Wikipedia defines the term thusly:

Raku is a form of Japanese pottery characterized by low firing temperatures (resulting in a fairly porous body), lead glazes, and the removal of pieces from the kiln while still glowing hot. In the traditional Japanese firing process, the pot is removed from the hot kiln and put directly into water or allowed to cool in the open air. Raku is considered the traditional method for creating bowls for the Japanese tea ceremony. Raku tea bowls are hand-made from earthenware, each with a unique shape and style. Raku techniques have been adopted and modified by contemporary potters worldwide.

I signed up for the class thinking I'd make some fun new jewelry. And perhaps I will. But tonight the inspiration simply isn't there. In fact, I pretty much don't feel like going at all. But I missed class last week due to my vacation, so I can't, in good conscience, skip it a second week. The idea of making more "stuff" with which to clutter my apartment makes me shudder ... but I'm an artist, and that's what artists do, isn't it??

So off I go to class, mildly against my will, to see what might get created by these hands that just climbed a mountain.

Relax

Going back to work after 2 weeks off ain't easy. Everyone wants to ask how your trip was, where'd you go, what'd you buy, who'd you meet ... but it doesn't last long. Soon enough they want to fill you in on all the office gossip, injustices, mishaps, chaps, chafes, annoyances, deadlines, meetings and projects they held in their anxious minds while you were off gallivanting on mountains and beaches.

Side effect: I woke up today with a MAJOR knot in my upper back. Didn't take long, huh? Ouch.

Notes from July 16

Climbing was a total blast. Very empowering and fun. I did three totally vertical climbs on the first day. Woo!!!! I wasn't scared of the heights at all. In fact, I was sort of hanging out on the rock face with one hand a few times, just looking down and all around. It was fantastic.

Sadly, it poured rain on Sunday just as we were about to start climbing. We had ascended this MAJOR trail (this was no hike, it was truly an ascent, which is the main reason why I'm so damn sore), geared up with harnesses, helmets, ropes, etc., the guides did the lead climb to set up the anchor, and then the skies opened up. It was a total washout.

So we climbed down to a overhang to get out of the rain and hoped it would let up, but no dice. The descent was harder than the ascent because everything was so slippery. My legs ache so much!

After tossing the day, one of the other hikers and I went on a mellow walk along a pretty trail nearby. It was a nice and relaxing way to end the weekend.

I'd definitely climb again. But having done it even once gives me a huge sense of pride. Next adventure: whitewater rafting in August!

Notes from July 10

1. Made it to CT in 3 hours flat. A new record.

2. My friend's husband backed into my car this morning on his way to work, and cracked my rear bumper. It needs to be replaced, but it's really no biggie. They are in a state about it.

3. Am almost definitely going to Greece next June. Woo hoo! My Athenean friend Poly and I have agreed to make a serious plan since she just moved into her own apartment. The last time I was there, the city was a mess. Since then, they cleaned it up for the Olympics.

4. The match.com guy I met just before leaving officially wants to go out again. Trouble is, he has boundary issues. On our first date he revealed that his first wife accused him and his sister of incest and picked fist fights, his former fiance stole his Xanax and then cheated on him, and his most recent girlfriend has money/credit trouble. If I go out with him again, what does it say about me?? Does it show my open-mindedness, my non-judgmentalness? That I can refrain from assuming that this guy is just a bad relationship waiting to happen and that people can change their patterns? Or does it show that I, myself, am moving from one set of bad dating patterns to being open to a whole myriad of new bad dating patterns??

5. Thankfully, I have been corresponding with a new guy on match who seems great. He's a rock climber, so now that I'm about to embark on my first climb, we'll have something cool in common. But it sort of brings to mind that scene from "Singles" where the woman buys a bike and all kinds of gear to impress her cyclist first-date and nearly kills herself riding to meet him. He ends up with her roommate anyway.

6. I taught my friend's eight year old the word crap yesterday. Didn't mean to. Told him not to tell his mom, which he promptly did. Apparently she had previously instructed him to tell her anything anyone ever said to him that included the phrase, "don't tell your mother." That Aunt Ev is such a bad influence.

Checking in from MA

Well, I'm currently on #3 on my vacation destination list: Salisbury, MA visiting friends. It's gorgeous here. I'm bruised and sore from the rock climb, so today's R&R on the beach was exactly what the doctor ordered. I have so much to write about, but that will have to wait until I'm home and back to normal.

I feel so relaxed and am truly "on vacation" in the most traditional sense. No thoughts about work, completely off any routine, and truly going with the flow of no schedule. It's divinely refreshing. And I still have another week of freedom remaining!

Gone Climbing

Well, today's the day I set off on my vacation. I've taken two full weeks off of work—something I'm not sure I've ever done before! There will be four distinct parts to my time off, all of which I'm very much looking forward to:

1. Visiting my oldest friend and her family in CT
2. Rock climbing in NH
3. Exploring the MA coast with Philly friends whose parents live there
4. Volunteering for the WXPN music festival on the Camden, NJ waterfront

The rock climb is the nucleus of the whole thing, of course. I can't wait to test my endurance, push my fears, challenge my feet, meet new people and try something I've always been curious about. Bear Grylls on Man vs. Wild always makes it look so easy! I expect to have a new respect for his climbing skills after my comparatively tame experience.

Party Highlights

When I turned 40, I wanted to throw an outdoor party. But April is no time for outdoor parties! So I threw it yesterday, on what turned out to be the most gorgeous day of the summer, at my folks' place in Intercourse, PA. Here is a list of some highlights:

1. The Locale:
Dad and Joan worked their tails off for the past two-plus weeks to get their already gorgeous yard looking tip-top. They succeeded in spades. BRAVO to the perfect party place! And yes, jokes about the town's infamous name came up several times. Ask Brian.

2. Bocce Ball:
We all know R.J. can throw a ball with superhero velocity, but NOW we know what a bocce ball looks like when it's shattered! Kyle, meanwhile, was the unexpected master of the game.

3. Hackey Sak:
Always my favorite, even better with family.

4. The Chair:
Francoise and Lamar never cease to amaze me. The chair they brought (though no gifts were expected, considering that this was not really a birthday party) left me speechless and thrilled. It's gorgeous and has already found a happy home in my livingroom, not far from its cousins in the dining room. THANK YOU.

5. The Pooch Party within the Party:
Hosts Beau and Gwenyth showed their canine visitors a great time. Neemo, Tucker, Jake and Louie were gracious guests (at least as long as there were no frisbees in sight!). They sniffed, chewed, barked, marked, ran, begged and licked ... then fell in love with Joan who fed them hot dogs and turkey jerkey. Doggie Nirvana.

6. The Food:
R.J. is now officially crowned King of the Taylor/Scache BBQ. Great job! And thank you to everyone for bringing such delicious eats. Everything was outstanding.

7. The Kids:
Kyle, Jack, Hannah, Cooper, Gretchen, Sophie and Lulu. The party simply wouldn't have been the same without the kids! An especially precious moment was when Lulu asked for more chips. I sent her over to Brian for them, and she proceeded to call the chips "Brians" for the rest of the night. "I want more Brians!" Don't we all??

8. Friends:
I've known Kate since kindergarten, Kim since 3rd grade, Susie since college, Francoise since my days in Doylestown, Sacha since just after grad school, Meghan since the Kimmel Center, and Alison, though I've known her some 8 years, have only really gotten to know her as a "true peep" for the past year or so. That's a nearly 40-year span of wonderful friends. I'm unbelievably fortunate, and so very thankful for all of you!

9. The Overnighters:
Sacha, Brian, Alison, Gavin, Neemo and Jake rocked the gazebo/tent, braving the wilds of Amish country -- no small feat for city folk! It made the party last into the next day (including an off-the-charts breakfast at the local diner), and for that I'm eternally grateful.

10. The Hosts:
Dad and Joan, I can't thank you enough for everything. Not only was the setting perfect, but you both made it so much more fun. You are terrific hosts. Your energy, enthusiasm, humor, generosity and warmth touched every facet of the festivities. And you even got a port-a-potty! Kudos, love and hugs.

Well, that about does it! Please post your comments and additions to the list ... and thanks again for coming. It was a great, great day.

match firsts

For the first time in my many (embarrassingly many) years off and on match.com, I'm corresponding with someone who turned out to be the friend of a friend. And a one-time fairly good friend. They haven't hung out in years, but still, it's nice to know that someone I love and trust has the skinny on my latest yet-to-be-met romantic prospect.

The other first for me is that I'm not frantically checking my match messages 100 times a day. I can honestly say that for as much as I'm very ready for love, I don't feel desperate! That's an even better first that the first one.

It also helps that my friend Alison keeps reminding me that:

1. I'm interviewing THEM, not the other way around
2. My healthy attitude is going to pay off in spades

These Alison-isms pull me through when the chips are down and I forget that I'm not desperate. Thank goodness!

Overheard on the train

I was riding home on the train tonight, minding my own business, reading the Metro in a quiet spot in the back a relatively empty car. Nice and peaceful, after having been to a raucous dance performance at the Kimmel Center. Then a small group of teenagers boarded and spread out in seats practically surrounding me. They were fairly tame in the beginning, but then one of them must have felt like he had something to prove. Here's how it went ... it was virtually a soliloquy, delivered loud enough to be sure everyone heard:

"Yo, there's this girl who likes me, but then the other night I saw her tonging some other dude. She was like, [falsetto] 'oh, it's not what it looks like!' and I'm like, yeah bullshit. Whatever.

"But THIS guy, [gesturing toward the guy sitting behind him] he gets all the chicks. Me, I get a kiss, but HE gets mthathamthatamm [make-out noises]. I get to visit girls at their houses and say 'hey, what's up?' and HE gets their fucking virginity. I don't know how he does it.

"But yo, my dad used to work at the Crab Trap a long time ago, and he told me that some waitress asked him to go into the wine freezer with him to help her get a bottle down from the top shelf, and then she started balling him! I'm like, 'uhhhh, why do I know this?' I asked him, 'weren't you going out with mom then?' And he was like, 'uhhhh...' And I'm like, no wonder they got a divorce. [laughter, but only his own]

"My dad's girlfriend was drunk the other night and she goes, [falsetto] 'when I was you're age, I taught all the guys in my town how to kiss.' "

After that, the guy he was trying so hard to impress got off the train. Thank God. The kid shut up after that.

I feel sorta bad for him, with a father like that and all.

Summer Solstice

The Kimmel Center's annual Summer Solstice Celebration is probably my favorite event of the year. I've worked there for seven years, and this weekend will be the fifth time we've presented this overnight music and arts festival. It's the one night of the year I can actually manage to pull a true all-nighter. I wasn't even able to do those in college, so at 40 years old, that's really saying something.

The Philadelphia Inquirer ran a piece about it today and they used three of my photos. Seeing my byline in the Inky is always thrilling ... but THREE in one day?! I might just burst.

www.kimmelcenter.org/solstice

Who's Your Daddy

Happy Father's Day! I'm particularly excited about this one because I have a cool gift to give him. About 15 years ago, I gave my dad a set of clay bells I made in throwing class. I had no idea how much he loved them until they broke last year and he showed them to me with tears in his eyes! So I made him a new set. I can't wait to give them to him.

After all, he's the one who paid for me to learn how to throw in the first place. He sent me to college and never insisted I get a job or a student loan. And he beamed with pride every time I brought something new home that I made. He learned the lingo so he could ask the right questions, and displayed my work in his house for everyone to see.

These days, Dad has some creative hobbies of his own. He is forging and welding, and getting better at them both all the time. So I'm hoping that this new set of clay bells will be a collaboration of sorts. I plan to ask him to make a rack to hang them from. My turn to learn the lingo and ask the questions.

Let the dating begin

So I bit the bullet and re-upped my match.com membership. I found a few profiles that looked unusually great, so I felt compelled to contact them. I'm excited about feeling excited about it!

I'm still not sure online dating is the best way for me to meet Mr. Right, though two of my closest friends have, so why not me too?!

So here I am, leaning on the one thing the tarot card reader said in April that I treasure most: "it's going to be easy for you from now on ... no more thieves, no more scoundrels, no more struggle."

From her lips...

How should I date?

After a long hiatus, I'm feeling ready to toss my hat back into the dating ring. Actually, I should clarify. I'm interested in a relationship, not just dating. The truth is, I hate dating. At least, I hate those first couple of dates -- when every move each of you makes (including what you decided to wear and what you decided to order for dinner) takes on vastly disproportionate levels of meaning, open to intense scrutiny.

I'd much prefer to jump ahead a month or so to the part where we're just beginning to explore our physical compatibility, and we feel comfortable enough to expose our real selves by wearing sweats and NOT wearing makeup.

It's all easier said than done though... because my biggest problem has always been FINDING someone to date. I'm sort of tempted to go back to the online dating thing (with which I've had off-and-on success, albeit short-lived)... but the recent trial of the guy who was accused of raping his dates freaks me out.

From ABC.com:

"A man who told dates he met online tall tales of being a doctor, an astronaut and a CIA assassin was convicted Wednesday of two counts of sexual assault but acquitted of raping several women who accused him of drugging them. Seven women, six of whom Jeffrey J. Marsalis met through the Match.com dating service, told similar stories of blacking out or becoming unusually intoxicated during dates from 2003 to 2005..."

Ideally I'll meet someone along the way, as I live my normal life. You know, like through mutual friends and such. It's the only true way to have a guy's "papers" so the above is less likely to happen. But that has only ever really worked for me once. I met a guy at a friend's party, and it turned into the longest relationship I've ever had.

And you know what they say -- it only takes ONE. It's true. I only need one! One guy to fall in love with. One husband. One possible father to my kids.

It's definitely incentive to wait it out again and hope to meet someone the old fashioned way rather than going back to the online thing.

I continue to be undecided about it. Any advice??

Sensible comfort food

How often do those words work together? What could possibly be sensible about comfort food? Isn't food that's comforting pretty much automatically bad for you? I mean, mash potatoes, peanut butter & jelly, ice cream, french fries, chocolate and pizza might have their good-for-you arguments ... but let's be real.

Well, I found a way to make at least one of those items sensible and I couldn't be happier about it. Healthy substitutes for decadent foods are usually anything but comforting. They're bland, rubbery and often taste more like cardboard than food.

But when I've had a stressful day and it's time to eat, all I want is pizza. Thank GOD for this version of it that totally satisfies and doesn't ruin my diet.

Ev's Toaster Oven Pizza

1 whole wheat tortilla (1 weight watcher point)
2-3 Tbs pizza sauce (0 points)
1/4 Cup low fat shredded cheese (2 points)
8 slices of turkey pepperoni (1 point)
Total points = 4

Combine ingredients as you would a pizza, adding veggies if you wish. Don't overload the tortilla or it will be a mess to eat! Pop it in the toaster oven for about as long as it takes to toast bread. That's it. So easy, and so delicious.

Sensible comfort food. Woo hoo!

Potential Parents

Below find an email exchange between two close friends and me today, after one of them sent along photos of an acquaintence's newborn. Isn't it interesting how our thoughts and views on pregnancy evolve over time? I, for one, never thought I'd doubt wanting to have a baby. But these days, it's all so unclear...

Lilly:
seriously cute baby (presumably c-section) with a seriously cute name [Sam].

Me:
Cute family. Why c-section??

Sacha:
These days, the attitude seems to be: why not a c-section. Very scary.... but I hope all was okay with the mommy and that the c-section was needed....

Lilly:
I'm just saying maybe because he's so perfect looking and usually the ones that are born vaginally get those squished heads from the trip down the birth canal.

Sacha:
Sometimes I think I really want a baby. But most of the time not. But today, yes. But then only because it would give me something else to think about other than myself and the state of the world.

Lilly:
Sometimes I think I want to be pregnant and have a baby more than I think I want to raise a baby.

Sacha:
Oh Man! When I was around 16 and someone asked if I wanted kids ever I said just that: I want to be pregnant more than have a kid. IF you give a kid up for adoption, do you get money? Know where I'm headed with this?

Lilly:
Being a surrogate in my limited understanding VERY lucrative. And I don't think I could bear to give it away, unless maybe to people I knew who would relate to me as an aunt. Maybe I couldn't handle that either. I think I want to be like the traditional dad who isn't in charge but gets to pitch in whenever it suits him.

Sacha:
Hmmm...I might be able to give the kid away...How lucrative are we talking?

Me:
So with you both on all this. Desperately want the big belly and full boobs and lucious, ripe pregnancy ... but am feeling way too self-centered to raise a kid the older I get. But couldn't give it away. No chance.

Sacha:
I always love the idea of eating for two. Not to eat twice as much but to put lots of time and love into what I'm eating and knowing it's for a little-boobula. But truth is, after hearing about pregnancy up close and personal not sure anymore. All the farting and peeing and not sleeping and then the fucking labor....

Lilly:
I'm in it for all the pregnancy--presuming nothing goes horribly wrong. Am biased because the women in my family have generally had easy pregnancies and births, so I have a false sense of security.

If only being self-absorbed gave other potential parents pause...

Musical memories

Someone asked me recently what my favorite concert memory was. Even though I've seen/heard some of the most amazing music in the world during my tenure at the Kimmel Center, here is was immediate came to mind:

Hands down, it was my first Billy Joel concert that will forever be my most memorable. It wasn't my first (that was Shawn Cassidy) ... but I was only about 13 years old. Dad got tickets through a family friend who had connections at the Spectrum. We had no idea where our seats would be.

When we went to will-call, they gave us a pass, not regular tickets (I still have it), and it didn't say where we should go. So we started with the first usher we saw, and his eyes got big. I tried not to get excited, but he said go to the floor. We went to the floor, and the usher in the middle sent us "up front" ... but we didn't know what that meant ... so we went to the guy in about the 4th row and he said, "front row, center." I almost threw up.

Our seats were about 5 feet from the stage and there was just open space between us and Billy. Once we were allowed to rush the stage, I was crunched against it. I had bruises across my chest afterward, and my arms were sore from pumping them in the air for hours.

I knew every word of every song the entire night, and it wasn't long before his sax and guitar players noticed. It was so cute because they kept playing to me -- and even made a point of waving goodbye to me at the end of the show!

I touched Billy's shoelace once. Major thrill. He was more energetic and focused than I could have ever imagined. The other guys in the band were real peeps, but Billy was a consummate professional, never tiring, never losing focus and constantly doing everything his body could do to entertain the crowd. It was incredibly impressive. And he sounded perfect.

I've never quite listened to music the same way since that night. And no matter what Billy does in his personal life, I'll always have total respect and love for him.

All in a day's work

I've had a total of four interns in my career. To be honest, all four have been within the last year. The first two were terrific. Full of energy, enthusiasm, smiles and thanks. They understood what it meant to be an intern. The second two both left after about two weeks (the most recent one just quit today). I honestly don't think it's me. I didn't make the first two stay (and be fabulous) and I didn't make the second two leave (though it's hard not to develop a complex).

Interning is not rocket science (unless, of course, you're interning for an actual rocket scientist). The one most basic, important thing to do when you're an intern is show your supervisor/mentor that you WANT to be there. Manifest that by showing up on time, asking if there's anything else you can do before you leave, walking briskly from task to task, asking just enough questions to prove you're listening, paying such close attention to detail that you take a little longer to get stuff done than you might like, and communicating clearly ... that's about it. Easy enough.

It's universal advice. The same list applies to any internship, whether you're interning at an insurance agency, a politician's office, a PR firm or a performing arts center. Show us you WANT it! After all, the objective is to make a good impression so your internship will lead to a job offer or a good recommendation, right? It's all about making relationships and networking, isn't it? If I'm missing something, someone, please, fill me in!

Weekend end

I'm like a kid when it comes to going to bed. I fight it tooth and nail. It's after 11pm now, and I know I have a big day at work tomorrow. But going to bed means the weekend is over. And I'm not ready to face that yet.

Yes, it's raining and damp and cold ... but still, it's the weekend! And it will be until I drift off to sleep.

It's not like I hate my job. I don't. In fact, I like it probably more than most people like their jobs. But the weekend is the weekend. It's two full days of your own. (and this week, I even stole an extra day). Two full days to spend however you wish. Sure, usually there's a list of things to do that don't exactly feel like free time -- chores, obligations -- but for the most part, we get to use those two days however we damn well please.

I'm just not ready to see the weekend end.

I heart Kohr Bros

Ocean City was glorious today. Meghan and I covered all the bases. We stopped at the greatest store on earth, The Flying Carp on Asbury Ave first. I've been a devotee of that place for years and years. They have the most consistently wonderful collection of jewelry I've ever found. Many of my most treasured pieces came from there. And the people there are so friendly!

Afterward, we hit the beach with gusto, and proceeded to get properly sunburned. We also watched a huge seagull eat a leg off of an enormous star fish. And we spooked a couple of sizable sand crabs into their holes.

Then we hit the boards. First up: Mack & Manco's pizza. Cute cute cute boys behind the counter made the slices that much yummier! They're young, tan, polite and they make a great pie with a thin, crispy crust.

We stopped for salt water taffy at Shrivers, where I discovered the joys of three new flavors: coconut, peanut butter/chocolate, and bubble gum!

And to top it all off, Kohr Brothers custard. My oh my. They say it's "light" but you'd never know it. It's creamy and full of flavor. I always pick peanut butter with chocolate sprinkles and it's always better than I remembered from the last time. They always get it right.

This was a great day. Full of sun and calories. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Hitting the boards

It's a phrase not widely known, at least not in the context I mean. I guess it depends on where you're from. But it's a big part of the Philadelphia region vernacular. "Hitting the boards." It means going to the boardwalk in a beach town, window shopping, eating salt water taffy and water ice, getting a sunburn, riding the ferris wheel, stepping in gum, buying new sunglasses, wearing hemp bracelets, bumping into small children, tipping over your custard cone, getting sand in your hair, wearing halter tops, and lots and lots of people watching.

That pretty much covers it!

I'm headed to the Ocean City, NJ boardwalk for the day tomorrow, and all I can think about is getting a Kohr Brothers peanut butter custard cone with chocolate sprinkles.

One class left

There's just one session left in my clay class. It's been really fun and relaxing. I have many pieces yet to come out of the kiln, so photos will be posted soon. I'll probably take the summer raku class in late July. Jewelry is so fun to make in raku, so hopefully I'll have lots to sell!

Back to work

It's so hard coming back to work after a long weekend!!! My brain is totally in summer mode. I'd so much rather be doing any number of the following rather than attending meetings and otherwise working:

1. Making jewelry (I have several projcects in the works and they are calling me!)

2. Walking (I've become addicted the the loop around Cooper River Park)

3. Sunbathing (it's bad for you, but I adore it)

4. Shoe shopping (I'm desperate for brown sandals)

But hey, a girl's gotta earn a living.

Paint your own toes

Did you ever get a bad pedicure? I've only ever had two professional pedicures in my whole life. The first one was exquisite -- complete with a leg massage, exfoliation and pristine polish. It was years ago (I don't let people touch my feet very often), administered by a friend of my stepmother's. Bravo Janet!

The second one was, you guessed it, bad. I got it here in Collingswood at a fancy salon which will remain nameless. The guy who gave it to me nearly scalded me with the water in the tub, then scrubbed my feet raw (do you really need excessive exfoliation on the tops of your feet??), and finally, with his shakey hands, managed to get polish not only on my toenails, but all over my toes as well. I even found spots of polish on the soles of my feet when I got home.

My friends had a laugh, calling me "clown feet" during our trip to get ice cream afterward ... which was really the only up-side to the whole experience. We'll probably laugh about it for years to come. For that it was worth it.

It took about 15 minutes and several polish-remover-soaked q-tips to make my feet fit for public viewing. Next time I'll just paint my own damn toes.

By the way, I'm refraining from posting a photo because I've learned that foot photos attract fans I'd rather not have.

Catching up

I swore I wouldn't let my blog postings lapse as they have been. Not because my deluded mind thinks I actually have fans ... but more just because this is a great place for me to unload my thoughts so my brain doesn't get too heavy carrying them around.

Anyway, here's a short recap of a few things that stood out over this past week, in no particular order:

1. I found out that Charlie dies BEFORE watching the finale of Lost. Bummer. But it's the price one pays for making other commitments on the night of a great TV show!

2. It felt especially great to throw pots this week. I made a bunch of stuff, mostly gifts for specific people, but also a mug and pitcher for myself. Hopefully they'll all turn out.

3. Because of the above, along with some other recent purchases, I have about a third of my Christmas shopping done already! What a nerd I am.

4. I can now say I'm a veteran of the Collingswood May Fair. Wow, it's a big event for our little town! Lots of booths (selling mostly junk), lots of food (some GREAT, some bad), lots of people (the people watching is unparalleled), and lots of fancy cars (everything from souped up dune buggies to vintage VW bugs to Ford Falcons and Caddys). Such fun to walk around with my neighborhood peeps too! I'm a true local.

5. Franklin Mills. Wow. I had somehow never been there until the other night. I didn't buy much, but the reason for going wasn't about me. My friend Alison needed a new wardrobe, and boy did she get it! So fun to see a friend try on clothes I picked out for her. Very gratifying. And she looks terrific in everything she bought.

6. The air conditioners in my place are officially on. The heat and humidity this morning got to me, and I broke down. The unit in my new apartment is loud, but it cranks. Yay! Of course, I say that now, but let's see how my next PSE&G bill looks.

Damn food

Food has a strange power over me. I've always had a little bit of a weight problem. Minor in the grand scheme of things, but annoying and sometimes depressing. Nearly 10 years ago I lost 30 pounds on Weight Watchers ... but have gained almost 20 of it back. Better than gaining all 30 back, but not good just the same.

I've been back to WW a few times since and lost, then regained again. But I'm back at it again, with the goal of losing about 15 pounds. It's been a week and a half, and I can honestly say that I've stuck to the plan only about half that time.

Today was particularly challenging. Why is the mystery. It wasn't a particularly stressful day, so my need to eat everything in sight makes no logical sense.

So I sit here feeling defeated and plump. I tend to approach most things in life with a strong sense of logic, but for some reason, food falls outside of that space most of the time. Can any of you relate?

Sometimes I just don't feel like it

There's always tons of stuff I should be doing when I'm home. And I'm not just talking about vacuuming, doing dishes, laundry, etc. The stuff I mean is the project stuff. The creative stuff. The stuff I'm supposed to enjoy doing in my free time.

The list includes—but isn't restricted to—jewelry making, blogging (ahem...), opening an etsy.com account, working on my newly-acquired skill of making pop-up cards, cooking (for one), and reading (a friend recently sent me a copy of "Eat Pray Love" and I haven't cracked it yet).

All of that sounds terribly interesting and fun, right? But sometimes I just don't feel like it. I'd rather watch "Sheer Madness" reruns on Bravo, or play Spider Solitaire, or smoke a cigarette! Is that so wrong?

My brain needs time to turn off. To not be "on" and energetic and fabulous. The problem is that I end up feeling like a schlub when I'm not using my precious free time doing interesting things. I guess I just need to find a way to be ok with it ... because sometimes I just don't feel like it!

Cutie in the building

What do you do when you spot a cute guy in your office building?

I've seen this guy off and on for years, but months go by between sightings. The last time, which was probably last fall, we locked eyes on the street, but no words were exchanged. Like a school-girl though, I felt my pulse quicken and my eyes smile after the moment passed.

Since then, I've been convinced he got a new job. Not so much as a glimpse in months! Then today, he was walking back in with a co-worker, coming from what appeared to be an afternoon coffee run. We shared an elevator (he works on a floor above mine), and his co-worker was on a tear complaining about another co-worker. Cute Guy appeared slightly embarrassed to be associated with the rant. When my floor came, he held the door for me, and said, "sorry you had to listen to all the complaining."

I almost audibly gasped. He was making an attempt to engage me in conversation! I quickly replied, "that's ok, we all go through it!" He thanked me with a smile as the doors closed. Of course I wished I had said, "that's ok, here's my number!" instead.

Regardless, my pulse has been quick ever since. (can you tell how sadly starved I am for male interaction?!)

It will likely be months before our next encounter. I have no idea where he works, what he does, let alone his name, relationship status or even gender preference! Oh well. Nice to know there are cuties in my midst. It's been awhile since I had noticed.

XPN in the afternoon

Do you remember WIOQ in the '80s? It was awesome. I heard artists like Elvis Costello, Joan Armatrading and Cheap Trick for the very first time on IOQ. David Dye was my hero even way back then.

Fast forward two decades to WXPN — where most of WIOQ's devotees migrated in the late '80s — and I still love radio, and David Dye, as much now as I did then. I don't even have a CD (or tape) player in my car. Just a radio.

For years now, I've loved listening to David during his "live" time in the afternoons on XPN from 4pm-7pm even more than his taped show World Cafe (probably because it feels more real to hear him live, plus you know it's local and just for us Philadelphians, not every listener from here to Seattle). So when they recently announced that he would be replaced 4 days a week by the guy who had been hosting the evening show Y-Rock, I was nervous. Very.

Turns out no need. Jim McGuinn, that Y-Rock guy, uh, rocks. He's by far the best new voice on XPN in years. The other newer DJs on XPN are alright ... but in my mind they are just fillers between David, Michaela Majoun and Helen Leicht. But Jim fits right in with the veterans.

He's natural and easy-going on the air. He doesn't have a put-on on-air voice, and he never talks down to the listeners, or tries too hard to be funny/smart/clever, or sounds self conscious. Talking into a mic seems as natural to him as talking to a friend over coffee or a beer. It's very refreshing!

Let's hope he sticks around. Tune in and check him out.

Inflatable watercraft

I'm thinking about buying an inflatable kayak. Or a folding one. See, I live just 3 short blocks from the Cooper River, and could easily paddle several times a week if I just had the right watercraft. But the number one issue is where on earth do I store it?? My place is on the second story of a duplex, so I don't have a basement. Nor do I have a driveway, back yard or even a shed at my disposal. So folding or inflatable seems like the way to go.

But I know the fun will wear off quickly if the damn thing takes too long to prepare for the water. Do any of you have experience with such things?? I need guidance.

Latest wares

I glazed a whole bunch of stuff in my clay class last week, so hopefully it all got fired and I'll be bringing it home tonight. Watch for photos on my flickr set called my clay work.

In the meantime, though, I took advantage of having kilns at my disposal to fire some beads I made a few years ago. I've been wearing them on leather cord off and on all week, but this morning the inspiration struck me out of the blue to make earrings (pictured). I love them! Much more to come... and watch my flickr photo set called my jewelry. So fun to have fresh inspiration.

Saying so here might kick my rear to do it, so I'll proclaim now that I will soon start an account on etsy.com for purchasing my wares. Stay tuned!

Damn Pollen

It's time to admit it. I have allergies. Never before has the spring pollen taken such control of my head. The creases in my eyelids hurt. My eardrums ache. How do all of you who suffer from regular allergies (much worse than mine) deal with it? I guess I'm about to find out. The doctor prescribed Clariton. Wish us luck.

It's no wonder the pollen causes health issues. Just look at the layer of yellowish-green dust covering your car. We're breathing that crap in! If any of you have tips on how to deal, please share.

Porch haiku

The porch. The sun on the porch. The awning's shade. A new pad for the chaise lounge. Giving myself a pedicure. A light breeze. A cool beverage. Suntan lotion. Pigtails. Spring Saturday bliss.

Dirty Rock

Bless their hearts, those White Stripes. Meg and Jack. Icky Thump? Yup, that's the name of their new record and single and it's as sick as it sounds. It's dirty, melodic rock that makes your nose scrunch up and your head bob (well, I can't speak for you, but it does those things to me at least). Damn I love them! Not sure when the new record comes out, but I can't wait.

Also, I heard an old track of theirs from before they were on a major label and realized I need to dig back into their older stuff too. Some of their songs are tough to listen to, but what's good is friggin' GREAT. Icky thump, indeed.

Oh What a Beautiful Building!

The Kimmel Center is really beautiful and unique. Say what you will about how it fits in with Philly's architecture ... and how approachable it looks from the street ... and the fact that you can never tell if there is anything going on inside unless you are, in fact, inside ... I'm partial to it just the same. I suppose I'm biased considering that I've worked there for 7 years!

Anyhoo, take a look at what a pretty building it is!
> Kimmel Center on flickr.com

Changing the Chi

Ever since moving to Collingswood, I've had the opportunity to blur the often-too-well-defined lines of my life by bringing a variety of friends together. It has been a revelation. In fact, it should have been on my "top 5" for why I love Cwood so much! I get to see all these new, wonderful sides to the people in my life through the eyes of the other people in my life.

Tonight, I had three of my dearest friends over for a walk and take-out. Two of them know each other very well, but the third had only heard about the others, and vice versa. I wasn't nervous about their liking each other or getting along ... but you just never know how such meetings will go.

After dinner, I excused myself from the dining room to have a smoke on the porch. I sat there gleefully listening to the three of them interact—their voices raising and lowering, their laughter bellowing, and the ice cream dishing. It warmed my heart!

As they were getting ready to leave, I looked at the mound of dirty dishes in the sink not as a chore, but as a happy remnant of a successful party. As I cleaned up, the sounds of the festivities replayed in my head.

My new apartment and I love bringing friends together. To quote one, "it changes the chi in the room." Yes, it sure does!

Football Frustration

Andy Reid drafted a quarterback. Why? We don't need another QB this season. What we do need are starters both offensively and defensively. We need to strengthen our defensive line and our receiving corps. He didn't think about this season. He thought about 3 seasons from now. Why, why, why???? Even Donovan doesn't want to talk to him. Donovan needs help on the field THIS season. So frustrating.

Maybe Reid thinks he'll get a starter cheap in free-agency. That's a hell of an assumption. Ugh!

Still, I can't wait for football season. Sigh...

Sunday recovery

I think of Sunday as the day of recovery. I do my best not to make specific plans on Sundays so as to be free to do whatever I a) have the energy for; b) needs to be done; and/or c) strikes my fancy. Such things might include anything from the obvious (reading the paper, doing laundry, grocery shopping, vacuuming) to the ambitious (creative projects, exercising, mopping the kitchen floor) to actual recovery from activities the night before (nursing hangovers, recapping with friends, napping, eating lots of chips, writing in my journal).

What am I doing today? A little of each. Currently, for instance, I'm dying my roots while catching up on my blog. I have written in my journal, talked to friends, eaten a fair amount of chips, read the paper and went to Walgreen's for shampoo, t.p. and Propel water (my favorite new recovery beverage).

See, last night's activities require some recovery. I'm not hung over (though I did smoke too much, for which a price must be paid). I'm a little groggy, considering I didn't get home until 3am. That I can handle. It's the disappointment that has me struggling. I had hoped last night would go differently, and I'm bummed. I thought the guy (it's about a guy, as if that wasn't obvious) was going to stay sober and he didn't. He said he quit drinking, and I believed him. He got drunk—so drunk he didn't realize how drunk he was, so tried to deny it. Hence, the fun, light, romantic, sexually-charged romp I was looking forward to didn't happen. The mood was killed. He blew it!

I'm sure it's just as well, and I'm better off, and all that. My heart's not broken or anything. Still, I need a day of recovery ... so thank goodness for Sunday.

Thursday night TV

Ever since I was a kid, Thursday nights have been THE night for planting yourself on the couch. According to Wikipedia, "Over the course of two decades, NBC's Thursday lineup featured such popular shows as Hill Street Blues, The Cosby Show, Family Ties, Night Court, LA Law, Frasier, Seinfeld, ER, Friends and Will & Grace." Other channels have gotten in on the act too, with Scrubs, CSI, Without a Trace, Gray's Anatomy, and my personal favorite SURVIVOR.

It's the one show I can't miss. Ever. I don't care what else is going on, or who offers me what should be a better, social alternative. I gotta be home for Survivor. Yes, there are times I have to tape it, but those times are rare. It's never the same taped. Like watching a football game taped. No good. You want to feel the action while it's happening.

No matter how many seasons have passed, and how many reward challenges, and how many times Jeff Probst says the same stuff over and over (his most repeated phrases include, "c'mon in guys," "wanna know what you're playing for?" and "I'll go tally the votes")... none of that calms my fervor.

The show is so much more than just a reality show. It's about as true a social experiment as you can get on TV. These people have seen the show, some of them have studied the show thoroughly, yet they still do the same things every other alliance has done in all preceding seasons even though it doesn't work. It's fascinating!

May 13 is the 3-hour finale, and I've already posted it in my calendar so I don't make other plans. Woo hoo! Can't wait!!

It's not just mud

I could go on and on about my relationship with clay -- from the first piece I ever made in grade school (a clown face paperweight), to learning the art of throwing, to the beadmaking class I taught in Maine that caused me to collapse of exhaustion, to making production tiles for 4 straight years. It's been a long and winding road, much of which has been rife with enormous self-imposed pressure to make great stuff of importance and greatness (whatever that means).

I've tried over the the years to take pottery classes at local art centers just for fun, but would inevitably get bogged down by my own expectations for what could be accomplished.

All of that has changed, thank goodness! I'm currently enrolled in a class called "Creative Tableware" at the Perkins Center for the Arts in Moorestown, NJ, taught by David Gamber. After only 3 sessions, it has already been a revelation.

For once in my life, the clay studio is actually an escape from the pressure instead of being a different type of pressure. I'm making cups, bowls, beads, bells and anything else my heart desires ... with absolutely no pressure. It's wonderful! The day's anxieties melt away and my head clears for a few hours. I come home refreshed and relaxed.

I'm accomplishing a whole lot more than just making pots. More on this in the days and weeks to come...

Spring Top 5

Here's my spring-infused Top 5 Reasons Why I Love Collingswood, NJ (my new hometown)

1. A mere 15 minute drive gets me to the Perkins Art Center in Moorestown where I can play with clay.

2. My landlord hung the awning that protects my porch from the elements, and now it feels like I have another room!

3. Cooper River Park. It's fantastic. Plus, my city friends come out and walk with me there. Exercise, fresh air and girl talk... sigh...

4. Quiz Night at the Pop Shop. Local and city friends come together to share the stuff we know, along with fries and ice cream.

5. The ceiling fan in my bedroom. It's a first for me, and my sleep has never been so slumberful.

2 things I know

1. The doors on commuter trains are NOT like the doors on elevators. They don't reopen when they sense (or even feel) human flesh in between as they are closing. Yes, I learned this the hard way. Yes, I have bruises.

2. Closing your eyes while power-walking on a treadmill is a very bad idea. You could fall, hurt yourself and make everyone in the gym rush to see if you're alright. Trust me, it's embarrassing. So don't let that really cool White Stripes song on your iPod lure you into forgetting where you are. You're in the gym. There are lots of people around. Plus, falling hurts. Yes, more bruises.

Ode to the Rerun

We all have favorite TV shows. Shows we can't miss. Shows we make dates to watch. Shows we discuss and dissect with friends. Shows we tape/Tivo/Netflix /on-demand. It's usually important to watch such shows in sequence so that the trajectory of the story is cohesive. This makes reruns frustrating and annoying when you're dying to get to the next plot point.

When I got hooked on Six Feet Under, the show had completed its run on HBO. I had heard it was good, so I Netflixed the first few episodes ... and was immediately and forever hooked/devoted/fanatical. The goings on of the Fisher family consumed my waking hours for weeks. (To this day, I get wistful when I drive by a funeral home with a residence attached.) If I had been watching while it was airing, reruns might have rendered me insane.

But now I've seen every episode in proper sequence, and the Fishers' lives have been resolved in satisfying narrative. I even know how each of them dies. No unanswered questions. What a relief!

This makes reruns (now airing on Bravo) sweet, because I'm no longer desperate for the next development. I can relax and enjoy the nuances of Ruth's self-discoveries, Claire's drug experimentations and Keith's anxieties about becoming a parent (not to mention the exquisite camera work, the clever turns-of-phrase dialogue and the ingenious casting of guest stars whose characters are not long for this world), while not freaking out about what the hell happened to Lisa.

All this to say, hoorah for the rerun -- in its place. It can bring a whole new level of appreciation to already beloved shows. AFTER we know what happens, that is.

Ciao Umberto!

Damp day? Who cares! Rain? Humidity? No worries. For the first time in my adult life, I found a hair product that defies moisture in the air. Praise the Lord for Umberto Giannini.

I stumbled upon his hair serum in Rite Aid on Broad Street. Don't ask me why I bought it ... because I had given up on ever finding a product that would work. My hair has gotten more and more frizzy over the years, and humid days are the WORST.

Thankfully, I took a chance, and I've never been so happy with a hair product, and I've tried 'em all. This magic elixer is called Sleek & Chic Blowdry Cream. But I'm also a fan of the Curl & Twirl balm for days when I want to leave the waves be.

Sadly, his webiste is annoying because it's all in flash ... and I haven't been able to find his full line of products in most of the usual places ... but he's worth digging for, trust me.

http://www.umbertogiannini.com

I'm all 4s

I just turned 40. They say it's the new 30, and I'm banking on it. My birthday is April 4 ... so I turned 40 on 4/4. And apparently the number 8 comes up in my numerology, so I'm all 4s like crazy. The woman who recently read my tarot cards (and my palm, and seemingly my mind) said that means, unlike most Arians, I crave structure, predictability and organization. This often gets in the way of my creativity and passion. And how.

She also promised, however, that this is the year things will begin to get easier for me ... including the fact that I'm done with picking the same scoundrel/villian boyfriend (her words) over and over again. She says I'll end up with a teacher who loves to read and is very stable, yet energetic. Bring him on, I say. I'm all fours.

Photo by Snado; art by Mr. Biggs.

Moments of Clarity

My mom is getting up in years, and is slowly, but surely losing her memory ... and her grasp on things in general. Like anyone, she has good days and bad days. Today I realized that she might not remember the beginning of a story if it takes too long to get to the end. Note to self: keep your stories short, Ev.

I took her out for a drive to see the spring flowers (she doesn't get out much these days). But she was more interested in seeing her old neighborhoods than she was in the foliage. It was really wonderful to hear the upbeat tone in her voice when she asked me to drive down the street we lived on when I was a kid, "just to see what's changed." I wondered if she would remember, but she noticed every detail that was different.

When we got back, she was clearly relieved to be home (going out always makes her a little nervous), but she was also visibly delighted and refreshed. That felt more like spring than any daffodil. Today was a good day.

I'm an addict

A few weekends ago, my dad and stepmom came to visit my new apartment. Just as they were leaving, my dad sat down at my computer and opened Spider Solitaire, "just to see what it would look like on a different machine."

I never even knew I had Spider Solitaire on my machine. Thanks a lot, Dad. Now I'm addicted. I play all the time. It's ridiculous.

The Same Game had me addicted several years ago. It's a little-known, very simple computer game that I couldn't possibly try to explain. Trust me, it's addictive. Why? Can anyone answer me???

The Good Doctors

About two years ago I had a series of health issues, none of which were serious, just annoying and painful. During the time it took to resolve each (there were 3), I spent lots of time with an endocrinologist, a podiatrist and a dentist.

The endocrinologist was quiet and scientific. No bedside manner to speak of ... which struck me as exactly what you want from someone who is sticking a needle into your neck.

The podiatrist was (and is, I still see him) a real cowboy. Charismatic as they come, pizazz to spare, tons of enthusiasm and a damn good surgeon. He was delighted by the presence of my camera at every appointment as I documented the removal of the bunion that had been my life's nemesis.

The dentist was a slight Asian man who performed what turned out to be the most painful procedure I've ever endured -- a tooth extraction and bridge installation. During the very medieval experience, I cursed at him, cried, gasped and probably even hit. Poor guy.

Fast forward two years, I was recently referred (by a new dentist) to an oral surgeon for another tooth extraction. Enter Dr. Warren Torchinsky. I never got a chance to experience his handiwork, because upon inspection of said tooth (and x-ray), Torchinsky rightfully questioned the necessity of the procedure and presented a yin to the yang of my new dentist's diagnosis.

Now, granted, the tooth is old. It's a baby tooth that never fell out because there's no adult tooth under it. And I just turned 40. It owes me nothing. That said, it causes me no pain or irritation. It's doing just fine for now. Torchinsky looked me in the eye and said, "your dentist isn't going to like that I'm disagreeing with him, but if you were my daughter, I wouldn't pull that tooth. Wait for it to fall out." (which, by the way, is exactly what my childhood dentist advised many years ago as I was headed off to college)

How's that for bedside manner? I'm grateful for his honesty, his candor and his sense of humor. It's so nice to have a few good doctors on my team!