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.