K

Stop Me Before I Volunteer Again

2010-11-22T22:49:00.013-05:00

I have a tendency--like most women I know--to want to help out when someone asks me to help out. Whenever possible, I like to say 'yes' to people because making people happy makes me happy.

This quality, however, has also gotten me into heaps of trouble. Oftentimes, it means that I am over-committing to do all sorts of things: volunteering, driving, donating, making, baking, calling, picking up, dropping off...you get the picture. Well, this stuff was all fine and dandy when I worked my weekend-only gig, leaving me plenty of free time during the weekdays to do my civic duty and be a helpful person.

Now that I'm working more hours, though, I'm finding requests for my time and energy a bit annoying. I really want to be able to say, "Sure, I'll bake a dozen cookies for your bake sale!" but then I can't actually think of a time when I could actually bake them and then I have to say 'no' which makes me feel incredibly guilty. I just feel like the most ungenerous and horrible person for not eagerly participating in the bake sale for a worthy cause.

(To make matters worse, I realize that in the time I am writing this blog post whining about my lack of time to bake cookies, I could probably have baked a dozen cookies! But who wants to be baking cookies at 11 pm at night? I mean: don't I have the right to use the precious, short amount of free time I have after the kids go to bed to just relax and whine on my blog and not to have to bake any cookies? I don't know...you tell me...)

Anyway, the first phase I went through was feeling guilty because I don't have much time or energy (or enthusiasm) for this community cookie-baking project. But then, I slowly started feeling indignant. (I know it's absolutely wrong to feel indignant, but I am just really tired today from having worked this past weekend and not having gotten much sleep, so just hear me out for a second...). So then I started feeling indignant that only women were asked to bake cookies, and no men were asked to bake cookies. Those lucky ducks! Why do they get to get off scot-free and not have to be put in the uncomfortable position of having to decline baking cookies? I know it wasn't an intentional exclusion and not meant to be personal. I'm sure they were just thinking that mostly women take an interest in baking cookies. Which begs me to wonder, "How can I let the world know that I am like a typical man in that I have not taken a shine to baking cookies?" Perhaps finding a way to communicate this will prevent further pleas to bake cookies...?

After I finally got over being indignant about how unfair it was that men don't have to bake cookies, I realized that all of this turmoil I was having was entirely SELF-INFLICTED! Probably no one actually cares that I'm not baking any cookies! (I am a horrible baker and they probably wouldn't want my cookies anyway.) Maybe I was just included on the list because they didn't want to exclude me. That is really nice, actually. Even if people know you are probably too busy to bake cookies, it's certainly nice to be asked and be included, isn't it?

So, in summary: people ask me for help and I hate saying 'no' and it causes all kinds of inner turmoil and it makes me feel like I'm a failure and not a nice person. Obviously, the cookie committee didn't intend to give me feelings of inadequacy...I did that all to myself! Pretty ridiculous, I know. (I get a little nutty when I haven't slept enough.)

Anyway, you'll be happy to hear that I did finally put on my big girl knickers and just said 'no' to the bake sale. Now I can move on to more pressing demands...like finally getting some sleep!

The Boy Who Cried 'Tiger': A Gujarati Fable

2010-11-04T23:00:00.002-04:00

When my mom first told me this story, I had to break the news to her that it sounded awfully familiar to me, and that it wasn't an Indian story at all, but an Aesop's fable. Incredibly, she had never heard of the story of 'The Boy Who Cried 'Wolf'.

"How could that be? My father told me this story," she said, truly surprised.

I just told her that I guess the story was so good it must have traveled around the world. She is never going to believe it originated anywhere other than India, so I didn't bother arguing with her.

Anyway, here's my grandfather's version of the famous story, strangely fresh because of a slight change of characters:

THE BOY WHO CRIED 'TIGER'

Once upon a time, there was a young goat-herd. Everyday, he took his goats to graze in the jungle. His father, worried about his son's safety, warned him to call from a tree if ever he saw a tiger in the jungle and all the people in the village would come to his rescue.

Well, one day, the goat-herd became very bored watching his goats graze lazily in the jungle and an idea sprang into his mind. He climbed up into the nearest tree and when he reached the top, he began to yell, "Tiger! Tiger!"

The people of the village heard his distress call, and--fearing the worst--came running with sticks in their hands ready to beat a tiger off of the boy. But what they found were just all the goat-herd's goats grazing peacefully at the base of a tree, while the goat-herd sat giggling up in the tree. They got very angry at the boy, yelled at him, and turned around and went back home.

The boy found all the excitement very entertaining and the very next day, he tried it again. Again the villagers, fearing the worst, came running. And again, they found just the mischievous boy and his herd all safe and sound. Again, they chastised him and turned around and went home.

But the day after that--wouldn't you know it--a real tiger appeared! He attacked some of the goats and caused the rest to scatter while the boy sat crying in the tree. He called and called "Tiger! Tiger!" but not a single villager came to his rescue.

In the evening, the goat-herd's father wondered why the boy hadn't returned. He asked the villagers if they had seen him. They told him that they had heard his foolish boy yelling hours before but had ignored him because of the pranks he had pulled the two days before. When he told them he hadn't returned from the jungle, they all went together to look for the boy. They found him all alone in the tree weeping.

The boy sobbed, "There really was a tiger today! I called 'Tiger!' and nobody came. Why didn't anybody come?"

His father helped his son down from the tree, put his arm around him and tried to comfort him as they walked back home.

"Son, nobody believes a liar...even when he's telling the truth."

The K Book Club

2010-10-19T19:14:00.007-04:00

So, recently, as I was driving my kids around town, I overheard them having a very interesting conversation in the back seat:

M (my 7 year old daughter): It's so funny when Mom acts all "crazy". She's like..."HURRY UP! GET YOUR SHOES ON! WHERE'S YOUR BAG? C'MON! WE HAVE TO GO! WHAT'S TAKING YOU SO LOOONNG?

D (my 6 year old son): Yeah...that is SO funny...haha...

At this point, they are both busting a gut, laughing at how ridiculous I sound when I'm yelling at them. It was a little humiliating to hear my daughter's imitation of me--imagine the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, only higher-pitched and more annoying--but I had to admit, it was pretty funny. I had to laugh too at how ridiculous I sound.

And then I went out and bought this book, ScreamFree Parenting, which promises to help you "raise your kids while keeping your cool".

I'm sure none of you know what I'm talking about because you are all probably really calm, cool, and collected at home and have somehow managed to raise well-behaved children who all listen to your every request the first time you make it, but unfortunately for me, that is not the case at my house. This is just an example of a typical morning in our house, for instance:

Me: D, can you please get your shoes on? We have to go.

A moment passes, in which D. looks like he didn't hear me at all, and continues playing.

Me: D, get your shoes on. We have to get to the bus stop.

No reaction.

Me: D, did you hear me? We have to be at the bus stop in 10 minutes. Can you PLEASE get your shoes on?

D: I'm just (insert name of activity that he should not be doing here)...

Me: D, you can't be playing (insert name of activity here) now. You have to go to school. Put that away right now. We need to go!

About now, I'm practicing counting to 10 in my mind and trying very hard to "keep it cool" so I don't flip my lid. I even try to put on my best June Cleaver-ish look that seems to say, exasperatingly, "ah, kids will be kids...")

D: in a minute, Mom.

(Are you freaking kidding me?!)

Me: NO, NOT IN A MINUTE! NOW! PUT YOUR SHOES AND YOUR JACKET ON NOW!

LET'S GO! WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE! YOU'RE GOING TO MISS THE BUS! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO ASK YOU TO PUT YOUR SHOES ON BEFORE YOU ACTUALLY PUT YOUR SHOES ON? GOD, NO ONE EVER LISTENS TO ME!

(So much for patience...)

Anyway, that always gets the desired response, but then I feel like a big jerk for flipping out. When I calm down, I apologize for yelling and then they say to me, with their puppy dog eyes and in their most innocent voices, "Mom, why don't you just ask nicely and we'd do it?"

Arghhhh! As if I didn't ask nicely the first time!

Needless to say, I am in need of some new techniques because this particular pattern is only driving me crazy. We pretty much repeat this pattern several times a day: when they have to get up and get ready, when they have to get out of the house, when they eat their meals, when they are arguing with each other, when they have to do their homework, and when they have to brush and go to bed...so pretty much all the time...

So, now you can see why I needed to get this book. I know it sounds gimmicky and it would seem like the contents are pretty obvious, but I have to say I think I learned a lot from this book that I hope will help me stay calm even when the little ones are wearing my last nerve.

It made me realize that I am taking on way too much stress. Not only am I worried about my own responsibilities, but I'm taking on their responsibilities like they are my own. I stress out that they're going to be late for school, that they're going to forget to do their homework, that they're going to starve to death, that they're going to be exhausted from sleep deprivation, for example, and I protect them way too much.

But that is all going to change now. When they don't want to get ready on time, I'm now going to let them miss the bus and be late. When they don't want to do their homework, I'm going to let them go empty-handed. When they don't eat their meals, I'm going to let them be hungry so they actually ask to eat. When they don't get to bed on time, I'm going to let them be a little tired. Why am I protecting them from this important life lesson--that THEY are responsible for themselves and I can only guide them to help them do the right thing? I want them to be independent, self-directed adults don't I? How can you get there if you keep coddling and hand-holding them?

Anyway, I tried out this new way of thinking this past week with INCREDIBLE success. The little guy was screaming and crying about not wanting to do homework and I just said, very calmly, "OK, don't do your homework if you don't want to. But remember, you're going to have to go to school with no homework." So then he starts screaming, "But I WANT to do it! It's just so HARD!" So I just said, "OK, well if you want to do it, just calm down and you can do it. I'll sit next to you." Seriously, it was like MAGIC! He finished it without me having to nag him repeatedly or help him at all. Why didn't I think of this before?

I also learned that I really need to mean what I say when I talk to the kids. If I say they're going to lose a toy or TV privileges if they don't finish their dinner, then I really need to take it away and not be weak and change my mind. I've definitely had a problem with throwing around threats like that that I can't back up because I feel too bad about it. But, since reading this, I think I'm already a little better. I've taken toys away when the kids haven't listened and I feel like they take me more seriously. No more wimpy mom with the empty threats!

I like the author's whole philosophy about focusing on yourself: you are the only person you can control. You can't force the kids to do anything, you can only inspire them to do the right thing and when they don't, you shouldn't protect them, you should let them suffer the consequences (obviously, within reason) and learn from their mistakes.

Another thing that stressed-out parents will love is that he encourages you to focus on yourself in other ways--get space for yourself, do things you enjoy, pamper yourself and take care of yourself. You can only properly take care of others when you have first cared properly for yourself!

The Man and His Camel: A Gujarati Fable

2010-09-30T13:39:00.005-04:00

Another story my parents told me as a child...hope you enjoy it:

THE MAN AND HIS CAMEL

Once upon a time, there was a man who lived in the desert. He owned, as most desert-dwellers do, a camel.

One night in the desert, it was very cold. The man bundled himself and went to sleep in his tent while his camel laid down to rest just outside.

Not long after, the camel poked his head into the tent and asked, "May I please put my nose in the tent? It is so terribly cold outside."

Now, the man thought for a moment. Generally, camels do not sleep in tents. They are usually perfectly fine in the out-of-doors. But it was, after all, a bitterly cold evening in the desert and what harm could be done with just allowing the camel to just put his nose in? So, much to the camel's delight, the man finally told him it was fine if he wanted to put his nose into the tent.

The camel happily warmed his cold nose in the man's tent as the man fell asleep. But slowly, slowly, over the course of the night, the camel inched his way into the tent until he was entirely in. And slowly, slowly, over the course of the night, the man was inched entirely out of the tent!

In the morning, when he awoke, the man was freezing while the camel lay blissfully in a warm slumber.

Angered, the man asked the camel, "Why did you come all the way into my tent when I told you to just put your nose in?!"

The camel could offer no good explanation. Thereafter, the man vowed never again to let the camel put his nose into his tent.

Moral: Give some people an inch and they'll take a yard.

Erin's (Accidentally Vegan) Pumpkin Spice Muffins

2010-09-26T21:45:00.001-04:00

One of my friends at work is currently following Weight Watchers in an effort to lose some weight. (Trust me...I've already tried to sell her on vegetarianism or veganism, but it hasn't worked yet...) Anyway, recently she came in to work one day with a Tupperware full of pumpkin spice muffins, a recipe she said she modified from the Weight Watchers program. She told me that she thought of me while making them because they have no dairy or eggs in them.

My first reaction was to look at the muffins suspiciously. "No eggs, milk or butter in them? Are you SURE?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

She went through the recipe with me and, sure enough, there weren't any animal products. So, I finally tasted one. It was so delicious, that by the end of the day, the receptionist (who doesn't have any dietary restrictions) and I had both dusted off 3 muffins each. Also, I managed to leave the office with the remaining muffins...Erin swore she had another dozen at home. (I am so lucky to work with such nice people!) Throughout the day, I also bugged her incessantly to share the recipe with me.

I know they may not look like much, but these muffins are incredibly moist and delicious. They're also very easy to make. And they have lots of fiber. According to Erin, they are only about 1-2 points on the Weight Watchers program. (Apparently, that is something Weight Watchers people find very exciting...) Hope you like them:

ERIN'S (ACCIDENTALLY VEGAN) PUMPKIN SPICE MUFFINS

Ingredients:

3 cups All Bran (original) cereal (I'm sure you could substitute with another bran cereal if you wanted to)
2 cups warm water
1 box (18 oz.) spice cake mix
1 can of pumpkin puree
1 and 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 and 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 and 1/2 tablespoon cinnamon (or to taste)
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
Pam or other spray oil

Mix together the cereal and warm water and let it stand for about 5 minutes. Then, add the spice cake mix, pumpkin puree, baking soda, baking powder, and cinnamon and mix well. Finally, mix in the vinegar. Spray a couple of muffin pans with the spray oil and spoon in the batter. Bake at 375 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes. Let cool and enjoy!

What the Hell Do You EAT???

2010-09-02T14:00:00.005-04:00

If you read my last post, "Reasons to go Vegan" and are thinking about giving it a try, you might be wondering to yourself, "So, what the hell do you eat???" I know it sounds IMPOSSIBLE to avoid, meat, eggs, milk, cheese and butter, but if I can do it, I know anyone can do it. I don't live in a city with lots of conveniences and health food stores. I haven't even been to a Whole Foods store yet because they're all so far away from me. I have found a few items at a Trader Joe's store that is about 1/2 hour away from us, but mostly, I've just been shopping at the local supermarket.

I knew when I started this that there would probably be days when I struggled to think of what to eat, so I started keeping a food journal, so that on those tough days I could just flip back and find inspiration. Here's a list of all the stuff I've eaten in the past month...maybe it'll inspire you to give veganism a try:

Breakfast:

Oatmeal with raisins, brown sugar, and cinnamon
Cereal with Rice Dream rice milk
All kinds of fruit (blueberries, cantaloupe, bananas, strawberries, clementines, mango, grapes, peaches)
Toast, bagel, or english muffin with Earth Balance buttery spread (made of vegetable oil)
Juices

Lunch/Dinner:

Grilled soy cheese sandwich with tomato made with Earth Balance buttery spread
Peanut butter and jelly sandwich
Spinach salad with chickpeas and red beans and italian dressing or Annie's Goddess dressing
Tofu and veggie sandwich with vegenaise (imitation mayo)
Veggie burger
Veggie wrap with hummus, avocado, cucumber, lettuce, onion, carrots, tomato
Potato chips, french fries, onion rings
Hummus, tomato, spinach pita pocket
Spaghetti with marinara sauce and grilled eggplant
Tomato/cucumber/lettuce/pesto sandwich
Pizza with veggies and no cheese
Amy's brand vegan soups
Amy's brand vegan bean burrito
Nachos with beans, salsa, jalapenos, guacamole and no cheese
Vegetable/tofu fried rice
Spring rolls
Veggie bean burrito
Curried cauliflower and potatoes with roti (Indian flatbread)
Patra (without the yogurt...interestingly, it tasted the same)
Gujarati dal with rice
Indian spinach roti
Curried okra with roti
Samosas (savory Indian pastries with a spicy potato filling)
Asian salad with soy ginger dressing
Pasta with garlic oil
Italian bread/roll/toast with Earth Balance
Seaweed salad
Cucumber sushi
Avocado sushi
Vegetable lo mein
Falafel
Lots of vegetables (spinach, edamame, carrots, squash, zucchini, tomatoes, cucumbers, broccoli, eggplant, mushrooms, corn, cauliflower, okra, potatoes, avocado, green beans)
Juices

Desserts/Snacks

Toffutti Cutie imitation ice cream sandwiches (taste like the real thing!)
Edy's Whole Fruit Bars (I've tried the mango and strawberry varieties...both great)
Vegan chocolate chip cookie (from the Alternative Baking Company)
Vegan chocolates (from the Harbor Candy Shop...we went on vacation to Ogunquit, Maine and the local candy shop had vegan candy! It was SO yummy...I got the peanut clusters, peanut butter cups, and the almond bark...You can order online too...)
Vegan apple turnover (from the Bread and Roses Bakery...also in Ogunquit, ME! There must be a lot of vegans up there...)
Fruits, veggies, nuts, seeds

Finally, I also drink mostly water now and stopped drinking coffee (since I only liked it with milk anyway) and stopped drinking soda (since I like juice better anyway). And, I've had a couple of glasses of wine and a few cocktails in the past month (but not all at the same time)! Vegans don't eat meat, but we can still party! Yay...

As for other things, you can pretty much use your common sense. Read the ingredient labels and if there isn't any meat or dairy, you're good! In general, it's best to avoid stuff with too many ingredients. Also, be careful because some ingredients are dairy-derived (like "casein"). After a while, it'll be easy to spot.

Anyway, I hope you can tell from my list that I LOVE TO EAT and that you don't need to sacrifice taste to live in a healthy way! Please let me know if you guys have any more tips or ideas for meals...I'd love to try some new things. I just got a couple of vegan cookbooks, so I'll have some more meal ideas in the future.

Reasons to Go Vegan

2010-09-02T13:35:00.003-04:00

Well, it's been over a month since I went vegan and I am so happy about the decision that I really can't shut up about it! I think I might be becoming the most annoying person to hang out with because I'm trying to convince everyone around me to give it a try...

Over the weekend, I went to a kids' birthday party and when the other moms asked me how I was doing since they hadn't seen me in a while (an open-ended, innocent-enough question), of course I started blathering about how awesome I feel since I went vegan. And, of course, I started to try and convince them to give it a try, too. "Try it for just 2 weeks...you'll never go back!" I was saying. Luckily, one of the guests at the party was also vegan, so I was able to ramble on and on with her about it and I stopped harassing everyone else.

I know I should probably not go on and on about the veganism because people might think I'm being preachy or holier-than-thou, but I swear to you, that is not my intent! Lord knows I've eaten my fair share of meat and dairy products over the years...I have just been feeling so great doing this that I just can't help but share with the hope of getting some people to give it a try.

One of the biggest joys of my life is to help people. I love it when patients come back to me and tell me that I inspired them to lose weight or to quit smoking. And I love it when friends come back to me and tell me that my tips (writing, or cooking, or make-up or what-have-you) have helped them in some small way. Recently, a friend of mine told me she won a poetry contest that she entered, and she said that I had inspired her! So, the veganism is no different. How could I keep something so amazing as this a secret?

Here is the testimonial portion of this post: I know it's only been a little over a month, but I don't think I've felt or looked this good in many years. My skin is glowing, my waistline has shrunk (I unintentionally lost 5 pounds!), and my insides are working better than they have ever worked before. I feel great, have lots of energy, and just feel so HEALTHY. I have also gotten more compliments this past month than I have had in the entire past year. (It's not just me noticing the difference!)

You know, I didn't decide to do this for my looks. I didn't think I was horrible-looking to start. Nor did I think I needed to lose any weight (but I guess maybe I did...?) Really, I decided to do this because I have always loved animals and always contemplated going veg and have a mom who has always been vegetarian and then after I read Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Froer, it just finally convinced me that not only was eating meat and dairy not the way I wanted to live, but it also wasn't the healthiest way to live. It's just bonus that I'm now a little thinner and healthier than I was a month ago. It's a win-win...

Anyway, I would just LOVE for all of you to feel as healthy and fabulous as I'm feeling lately and I hope that maybe I can convince even one of you to give it a try. I don't know what reasons will inspire you to give it a try, but please consider some of the following:

REASONS TO GO VEGAN:

1. It's kinder to animals. (Sure, you could adopt a puppy from a shelter, but did you know you that you could save hundreds of animals a year by eating vegan?)

2. It's better for the environment (Animal waste from the meat and dairy industries is a HUGE cause of pollution of water, air, and land. Going vegan is the most impactful way to benefit the environment...better than buying a Prius, recycling, traveling less, or using less water or electricity.)

3. The meat often comes from disease-ridden animals that are fed tons of antibiotics (gross!)

4. Antibiotic use in the meat industry is contributing to the emergence of deadly diseases such as the swine flu and avian flu.

5. The animals have been genetically altered to produce the maximal amount of meat or milk (These are not your grandma's chickens you're eating...)

6. The animals are given hormones to produce the maximal amount of meat or milk.

7. The animals are raised in disgusting environments (caged in confined spaces in a muck of their own feces and urine).

8. Most food recalls often involve polluted or diseased animal products.

9. It can help end world hunger/starvation. (There is more than enough food to feed the entire world's population...the problem is that most of it is used to feed livestock! Plus the air and water pollution that comes from raising livestock ruins land that could be used to grow crops.)

10. Vegans have lower rates of cardiovascular disease, type-2 diabetes, and cancer.

11. Vegans are a healthy thin. No need to count calories or starve yourself or over-excercise.

12. Vegetarians and vegans live on average 6 to 10 years longer than meat-eaters.

I hope this list convinces you that it's worth a try! And even if it doesn't, I hope you will consider at least cutting down on your consumption of meat and dairy. You will be helping yourself, the environment, world hunger, preventing disease, and helping animals...quite a lot of things just by thinking about what you eat!

Money Can Buy Happiness

2010-08-31T08:00:00.002-04:00

People say money can't buy happiness, and for the most part, I believe they are right. Having a big house, a fancy car, a new wardrobe, and the finest things in life is not going to make you happy. What good are those things if you have an empty life, without people who you love and who love you?

No, money can't buy you love, that's for sure, but there is one way in which money CAN make you happy: spending it on others and with others.

Last year, I read a very interesting article about money and happiness in the Ideas section of the Boston Globe that I still think about all the time. It said that while spending money on material possessions doesn't make people happier, spending money on or with others, CAN actually make people happier. Making donations to charities, taking friends out to dinner, going on vacations with loved ones--in essence, spending on people and experiences with people--WILL make you happier.

I love that article. I guess that's why I still think about it a year later. It validates a feeling I've always had. In the pursuit of happiness, we need to know what to spend our money on...not so much on things, but on people and experiences.

Last week, we went on a family vacation to Maine and I thought about the article again while we were there. When I think about the happiest times of my life, they always involve events like this, vacations with family and friends, weddings and parties, and dinners out with friends. So much of our lives is mundane: housework and chores, kids' activities and homework, and of course, our jobs. Much of it is joyful, but little of it is memorable. The times that are the most memorable, however, are always the special ones: birthdays and celebrations and vacations. Those times are precious. When you look back at your life, yes, you remember some of the quiet times you've spent with your family doing the mundane things, but the most vivid memories are the ones spent doing something out of the ordinary. It's so important to remember that money spent on intangible things like this is priceless, and far more valuable than spending on getting an expensive trinket or toy. The trinket will tarnish but the vacation will grow in your memory into one of the most special times of your life.

Our little vacation in Maine last week was planned on the fly by my husband (because we had so much fun on a day trip we took this summer for our 11th anniversary), and we ended up picking the worst week for weather, but it was still an awesome time we spent together with our kids. I know when we look back on it someday, we'll say, "Hey, remember the time we went to Maine and we sat in the hot tub while it was raining? That was so cool!" We did the Cliff Walk in Ogunquit, ate at the famous Maine Diner when it was raining buckets, went to Old Orchard Beach and went to the amusement park. The amount we spent was small compared to what we got out of it.

Anyway, I'm not bashing those of you who have nice things. Of course, we all like having nice things, don't we? My particular weakness is clothes and jewelry. I love dressing up. I grew up winding my mom's old saris around me and wearing her shoes and jewelry and using her make-up. But I can tell you that while I like all the pretty things, there is nothing I own that I am so attached to that I would miss too much if it was gone. And, if need be, in a heartbeat, I would give it away.

It is good to remind yourself now and then to enjoy your money but never to become too attached to it or to the things you've bought with it. Not long ago, when I was stressing about money, my father reminded me, "Kirti, I don't worry about you. Why do you worry? If you lost your house, your car, and all your money, what would happen? Absolutely nothing. You still have yourself. You should never worry about money." (God, I love my Dad!) And just like that, I felt calm. Because he is absolutely right. If I woke up tomorrow with not a single penny, I would easily have a place to stay, food to eat, and most importantly, myself and the opportunities that I can make for myself and my family. And in a year, maybe two, I would be fine again.

So, I no longer live in fear of losing money or all of my material possessions. (No, I'm not wishing for that to happen! But I don't live in fear anymore.) There is only one thing I own that is worth anything, and that is myself! And the only things that are worth caring about losing are not things at all, but the people you love and people who love you. So, I spend my money on them and with them. Life is for living, for enjoying, for sharing your joy and happiness (and wealth) with others. That is the best kind of investment I can think of!

Published!

2010-08-27T22:15:00.001-04:00

A little good news...

Another one of my book reviews came out in City Masala magazine last month...This time, the book I reviewed was As It Was Written by the debut author Sujatha Hampton. You can find the book review on page 28 of the magazine if you follow this link:

City Masala magazine, July 2010 issue

Also, if you happen to be interested in learning more about Ms. Hampton, please check out her website, http://sujathahampton.com/, or read her blog at http://sujathawritesoutloud.blogspot.com/.

Happy Friday...:)

Letting Go

2010-08-12T13:10:00.004-04:00

When I look back at my life someday, 2010 is going to go down in the books as the year I finally came to my senses. It took 38 years, but finally, I've figured out that the world (and all the people in it) don't always have the best intentions.

I've been a Pollyanna in the past. I've always assumed that, in essence, everyone deep down is a good person, has a good heart, that if you showed someone enough kindness, you could turn them around. But the fact is, just because you care, doesn't mean anyone else will care. Not every one is moral, or trustworthy, or compassionate, or kind. Some people really only look out for themselves and could really give a damn about you, no matter how much you care.

These people are so damaged, so hurt, so abused, so incomplete themselves, that they can never offer you the friendship, love, or kindness you give to them. Whatever happened to them has turned them into bitter, cynical, ungenerous, critical, and pessimistic people who sap all your kindness until you are spent and destroyed. You spend your time boosting them up, making them feel better about themselves, being available at their beck and call, allowing them to speak to you any way they want and do whatever they want because you make excuses for them. You say to yourself, "oh, they've been hurt", "oh, they had a hard childhood", "oh, they don't mean to be so mean", but the truth is, they just really don't care about you or your feelings. You forgive and forgive and forgive, but would they do the same for you? You keep accepting them back in your life, giving them another chance, but they never change. You wonder to yourself, when do I say 'no more'? When do I say 'enough'?

And then one day, you wake up (at the age of 38 and wishing you had seen it before) and wonder "Why do I bother?" They will keep on being miserable, keep on being angry, keep on using you and abusing you, just as sure as the world will go on spinning. You cannot give these people enough love and kindness and compassion and make them all better, just like you can never fill up a black hole. They will always be empty, always be lacking, always with their glasses half-empty, and always taking from you, emotionally, physically, mentally, and even financially if you let them.

And that's when you realize that it's time to finally let them go.

So what do you do? Maybe you could start by taking inventory of all the people around you and asking yourself: is this person generous with their time, their actions, their words, their thoughts? Or are you the one that's always giving and they always the ones taking without reciprocation? Maybe it's time to let them go? Maybe letting them go will finally allow you to heal and become a better person yourself, full of love, and live the life you were meant to live.

This year, I've let go of many people that were toxic to me. I've stopped thinking that I could get along with and be friends with every human being out there. (Why did I ever think that was possible?) I have less friends now, but the friends I have now are truer. And, I make new friends every day. And, this time, I know what to look for.

Better late than never, right?

Anyway, for all of you out there who were suckers like me and let the miserable rule your life for a while, here's a beautiful poem that I hope will give you the courage to just let them go:

IF
by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss,
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a man, my son!

Refrigerator Art

2010-08-05T21:37:00.004-04:00

Brown Bunny, by M.

Bus 13, by D.

American Flag, by M.

Bird Flying, by D.

Swans, by M.

Just Getting My Feet Wet

2010-08-04T06:35:00.010-04:00

I can't believe it's been TWO MONTHS since I last blogged! Sometimes, life gets in the way...I've made so many changes to my life that it's taking some adjusting to get back to feeling like myself again...

When I last left the blogosphere, I had just become a vegetarian, and I'm proud to say that I'm still a vegetarian, now over 2 1/2 months! And, after doing some more reading, I've just recently decided to give veganism a try, in an effort eat more healthily, but also to try and live in a way that may cause less harm to the world. It's been a week now of no meat, fish, eggs, or dairy products and, I have to say, it's much easier than I thought it would be. I am amazed that even when my family is eating pancakes or pizza that I have no desire to eat it. They say when you become a vegan that your tastebuds reset and that you don't have any craving for the foods you once ate before, but I'm surprised that I'm feeling that way already. I hope it lasts, because already, I've been feeling like a million bucks! My skin seems better, my abdominal fat has decreased, and my GI system is working like it has never worked before! I can't rave enough about it...I'll let you know how I'm doing after a month...

Besides becoming a vegan, I've also made some changes in my professional life. I started a new position working 2 days a week at an office practice near my home. So far, it's going really well. I've already filled up my office hours and I'm ready to add another day in the fall. Besides that, I've also decided to take call about once a month at the hospital where I worked before in order to keep up my in-patient skills. I just worked there this past weekend. I'm so glad, too, because the nurses there are a wonderful bunch of ladies who have become very dear friends to me. I missed them and it's been great to have an excuse to hang out with them again once a month.

Also, my kids are home from school in the summer. As every mom and dad knows, this pretty much kills all your free time! All joking aside, I'm having an awesome time with them. I know the days are few when they would rather hang out with me than with their friends...We got a pool membership at our local pool and spend most of our days swimming. They are slowly but surely learning to swim. And I'm learning a thing or two also...I've never in my life jumped off a diving board, but this summer, I'm learning to do that. I've jumped in 3 times now. I need to work on my form because so far all of them have been belly flops (ouch)! Getting better, though...you really can teach an old dog new tricks!

We've also been reading like crazy thanks to the amazing summer reading program at our local library. For every hour or two the kids read, our library gives them a little prize from their prize basket. My kids have amassed an impressive menagerie of Japanese erasers thanks to the program. (I don't care why they're reading, at least they're reading!) And, they're at an age now that they have enough of an attention span for me to be able to read chapter books to them, which has been great. So far, I've read Charlotte's Web, Stuart Little, The Trumpet of the Swan, The Adventures of Dr. Doolittle, The World According to Humphrey, and The Adventures of Old Mr. Toad to them. Currently, we're in the middle of reading Babe: The Gallant Pig. (They are big into animal books...) For a book-lover like me, it's been a dream to share one of my favorite things with them...I hope they grow up to love books as much as I do.

What else? Let's see: the kids took some golf lessons, we went to the Children's and Science museums, we've had some playdates and birthday parties...oh, and I went on a scrapbooking weekend with my neighbor again like last year. It was a great girls' weekend away and VERY productive. (I came back with over a dozen layouts for each of my kids and I'm all caught up for the year...:))

So, it's been a crazy (but fun) summer with lots going on. I'm just getting my feet wet with the blog again, so be patient with me...hoping to be ready to dive in again by the fall...:)

Hope you're having a nice summer, too!

XO,
K.

P. S. Hope you like the other change I made--with the layout/design of this blog...Blogger has all these new designs, I couldn't resist trying one out...

The K Book Club

2010-06-02T13:11:00.004-04:00

Well, it's been 20 days since I became a vegetarian, which means it was probably around 21 days ago that I started reading this book.

For years, I've been saying that I'd like to become vegetarian. I've had several failed attempts. The last, and most successful, time was over 12 years ago when I was dating a vegetarian. I lasted a couple of years, in fact, but then 6 months into dating my omnivorous next boyfriend (and now husband), I broke my vegetarianism on a plate of mouth-watering hot wings in Cancun. There's been very little looking back since.

But always, I've admired the vegetarians. My mom is a vegetarian, nearly vegan, except that she does take milk in her tea and eats cake baked with eggs on rare occasions. She is also overly conscientious about living things and you will often find us laughing at her trying to scuttle a fly or an ant out of her house rather than just swatting the thing. Vegetarians, at least the ones I know, seem more compassionate and self-sacrificing than average people. They seem to be on a higher plane of existence--instead of indulging their animal urge to eat something tasty, they choose to avoid doing something they feel is morally wrong.

Though I've admired the vegetarians, I've found it very difficult to get enough motivation to actually become one myself. Meat and seafood is just so delicious. My favorite foods of all time are lamb curry, lobster and sushi. How do you tell yourself that you're going to become a vegetarian and never eat your favorite foods again?

Well, the only way that could ever happen is if you were forced to actually THINK about where your food comes from. I think most of us avoid this entirely. We go to the supermarket, pick up our hermetically packaged chicken breast and don't really associate it with the ACTUAL living thing called a "chicken". It's almost like they're two different things: real chicken and store chicken.

I remember when I was around 11, I went to India with my family and stayed at my grandfather's house. Knowing that we liked to eat meat, they asked one of the farm boys to kill a chicken for our dinner. I still remember feeling so repulsed, as if it had been a murder. Of course, I didn't eat any meat in India, but strangely, I came back to the U. S. and slowly, with distance away from the actual chickens, I ate again. And now I think how it was so strange and short-sighted of me to forget something like that.

This book, however, has been a wake-up call. I've spent a very long time of my life just not thinking about exactly where my meat is coming from: how it is raised, fed, treated, slaughtered, processed, and packaged, before it ends up in my mouth. I care so much about so many things in my life, pay attention to so many details about things, but I didn't seem to give a crap about what I am putting into my body...it seems so crazy now!

This book answered all those questions and more. And, as you might suspect, the facts are downright SCARY. I would be surprised if there is a person who can read this book and NOT become a vegetarian.

Even if you are not a sensitive, animal-lover and the argument that animals are living creatures like ourselves with feelings doesn't appeal to you, there are countless other reasons why you should think about giving up meat that the author outlines in this book, such as the huge impact the meat industry has on environmental pollution, genetic alteration of the animals, the rate of disease in the animals, the amount of drugs and chemicals they are exposed to, and the disgusting environments they are living in and being processed in.

I don't think I'm ever going to look at meat the same way again after reading this book--at least I hope I don't!

The K Book Club

2010-05-23T22:56:00.002-04:00

I don't know if reading a parenting book will make someone a better parent, but it certainly can't hurt, right? Most things in life seem to improve in proportion to the amount of effort one puts into it, so why shouldn't parenting be the same?

These days I think there are a lot of parents (like me) who turn to the internet, or books and magazines, or TV shows (hello, Supernanny...) to help figure out what exactly to do on the home front with the little ones. Years of hearing about how faulty parenting can land your child on the psychiatrist's couch someday is enough motivation to make the job of parenting seem like a solemn undertaking that should be engaged with the utmost care.

So, naturally, when I heard about Nutureshock, I had to pick it up. The authors of Nutureshock, Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman, have painstakingly reviewed some of the latest literature and research on children and compiled it in this book. There were MANY eye-opening findings. Here's just a short list of some of the fascinating facts I found in this book:

1. Many parents these days--and I'm certainly guilty of this, too--believe that praising their child and telling them how "smart" they are will instill confidence in them and help them succeed later in life. Strangely, praise of this sort can have an inverse effect: kids get easily frustrated when they encounter difficulties and become risk-averse. Instead, experts recommend praising a child's effort (something they can improve upon) rather than their intelligence (something that is seen as static).

2. Lack of adequate sleep (even as little as one hour) is correlated with a significant decrease in cognitive ability and IQ. Also, they have found that a lot of the behavioral problems seen in children and teens is related to sleep deprivation. And, as most people know, lack of sleep is also a major contributor to childhood obesity.

3. Most kids experiment with lying pretty early. Most of the time, they are lying to cover up a transgression and to avoid getting in trouble. If they're successful with the lying, it becomes a tool that they use more and more as they get older to increase their power and control in difficult situations with peers and authority figures. They suggest using a tool like telling the story of George Washington and the Cherry Tree to encourage honesty in kids, as well as modeling truthfulness.

4. Teens who argue with their parents a lot actually have healthier relationships with their parents than teens who keep their grievances to themselves. I guess the argument goes that the ones who argue think they have a chance of having their parents negotiate with them and meet them halfway, whereas the silent ones accept that their parents are going to be more dictatorial. The silent teens tend to lie, rebel, and consider themselves less close to their parents than the ones who argue.

5. Progressive (as opposed to Traditional and Disengaged) parenting has been linked with increased aggression in kids. Apparently, the inconsistency and permissiveness is what leads to problems.

These are just a few things I found interesting and helpful, but there was so much more. If you have young children, I think you will really enjoy this book...so much to learn! Not sure how much it will help (something tells me my kids will still be lying on a psychiatrist's couch complaining about me...) but at least I can say I tried!

Eating My Words

2010-05-22T21:00:00.007-04:00

Well, I thought the day would never come when I'd say this, but here it is:

I am crazy for the Kindle!

Yes, this is coming from the same person that not long ago mourned the advent of digital reading and the loss of the printed word. (I went on and on about how it just wouldn't be the same if there were no books to snuggle up with, to dog-ear, to write in the margins of...blah, blah, blah, etc., etc.)

Well, now I have to admit that I've been officially won over by the Kindle. I didn't actually plan on converting to a digital reader, but the Hubs and the kids got me one for Mother's Day and it's pretty much become my best friend ever since then. Every night, after the kids are asleep, you'll find me cuddled up not with a book any more, but my Kindle. And, interestingly, the features work well with my (sometimes uptight) personality.

Here are some of its awesome features:

1. No need to dog-ear the pages or write in margins and thereby mar the beauty of the writing--you can just bookmark it or write a note or highlight the text that you want to revisit someday.

2. You can download a book and have it available to read a minute after you decide you want to buy it. Who needs bookstores anymore?

3. I also love the "sample" feature, with which you can read the first chapter or two of a book before actually committing to buying it. (I can pretty much tell in the first few pages of a book if it's something I'm going to be able to enjoy reading or not.)

4. It's better for the environment.

5. It has a built-in dictionary. No more reading with a dictionary at your side.

6. It's thin and light and easily portable--the size of a single book, but it can carry the contents of thousands of books.

There are, of course, a few downsides, though:

1. First, it's so easy to download a book that I can see I'll probably be spending a whole lot more money on reading material now than I did in the past. I might have taken some books out from the library, or borrowed some, or waited until I went to the bookstore to see what I thought, but now, with such easy and swift access, I'm probably going to be shelling out a lot more cash on e-books. Plus, they recently increased the price of their new e-books to $12.99, when they were only $9.99 in the past. (Arghh...)

2. Second, I'm a little concerned about my eyes. I heard from an eye doctor that reading on a screen is worse for your eyes than reading from an actual book, so I worry about my already bad eyes. My vision is minus 5 in both eyes and has been climbing. I keep worrying that I'm going to wake up one day blind with both of my retinas detached! (It doesn't help that I missed an appointment with the opthalmologist to get my eyes dilated this past week.) I hear the screen is different than a computer screen, though, more like "paper", so we'll just have to see what the final verdict is...til then, I'll be playing Russian roulette with my eyeballs...

3. Selection is still limited. When I first went to the Kindle store, I just started searching a few authors and books to see what was available, and was disappointed that I didn't find everything I was looking for...granted, I look for weird stuff sometimes...

4. The Kindle will spoil you for books. My old pile of books is collecting dust as we speak because I now only want to read with the Kindle!

5. Already, someone has told me that I should check out the iPad because it's much better...does anything ever stay current these days??? Pretty soon, the Kindle will go the way of VHS, 8 tracks, cassettes, CDs and the like...

Published!

2010-05-12T09:06:00.004-04:00

I just started a new job a week and a half ago and so I've been ignoring this blog for a while, but in the meantime, I got a little good news recently: my book review of Rishi Reddi's collection of short stories, Karma and Other Stories, was published in a magazine called City Masala, which is an Indian-community magazine down in the Florida area. They were also nice enough to include me in "Team Masala" in the magazine. I think I'm going to be the book review gal for the mag, which is great since I'm always reading something anyway! I know it's a modest little magazine, but I think every writer has to start somewhere, right? :)

I haven't received a hard copy of the magazine yet and can't seem to figure out how to copy the image of my article, but here's the PDF file where you can view the article (it's on page 28):

http://www.citymasala.com/May2010/CityMasalaMay2010.pdf

When I get a hard copy, I'll make sure to upload it!

Disney Memories

2010-04-28T09:47:00.006-04:00

The first time I went to Disney, I was about 12, my brother was 9, and my kid sisters were about 4. It was the perfect vacation for my sisters. I, personally, at the sullen age that I was at, thought it was the most BORING vacation ever. Epcot sucked. The teacups sucked. Mickey sucked. The road trip to and from Jersey sucked. (There were a lot of fights that broke out in that backseat!)

So, you can imagine that I have pretty much dreaded going back to Disney once I had kids. The way I saw it, it was something I knew I had to do at some point for the kids and that I just kind of wanted to get over with, kind of like ripping off a bandaid. Just suck it up and do it. So, that's what we did this past week--went to Disney.

Funny thing is, I thought it was one of our best vacations ever and I would definitely go back again! LOL. I can't even believe I'm saying that! I'm more into visiting historical sites or travel abroad or exotic beach locations, so it's funny to me that I enjoyed something as commercial as Disney. It really does have something for everyone, though. My personal love is ROLLERCOASTERS. Fortunately, my kids are just as crazy as my husband and I and love rollercoasters. And, even luckier, my son is exactly 44 inches, so we were able to ride all but one rollercoaster with the two of them! Besides coasters, we had some other fun times on our vacation. I want to make sure I remember them so I thought I'd write down the highlights:

Day 1: Traveling

It was my birthday and I was cranky because we had to wake up at 3 in the morning to get to the airport. We all felt better when we finally arrived and checked into our condo. We got upgraded to a 3 bedroom condo since the first one didn't have hot water. And, the kids were excited to see that we had an awesome pool. We had dinner at a Macaroni Grill and the kids and my husband gave me a couple of sweet birthday cards and a beautiful bracelet. :) Went to bed early so we could be ready for our first day at the Disney parks.

Day 2: Epcot

The forecast was for showers in the afternoon, so we thought we'd start the trip at Epcot since it didn't seem like there would be much to do there. (Yes, I was wrong!) My kids especially loved the Test Track, which is a simulated car-test track by GM, with a thrilling race car drive at the end. They also loved Mission to Mars, which is a simulated spaceship ride to Mars. D. was actually tall enough to go on the "intense" ride. We were all assigned different roles which I thought were funny: I got "Commander", my husband got "Navigator", my daughter got "Pilot" and my son got "Engineer". (I thought it was funny they gave us those spots since I like to think that's kind of the way it works at home, too. LOL.) Unfortunately, though, I got motion-sick on this and my husband was able to make jokes like, "Hey, did you notice our Commander get really quiet towards the end of our spaceflight? (chuckle, chuckle...)" Oh well. At least I didn't throw up!

We didn't even end up going to the International side (my favorite) til the evening. Then, I wished we had more time to stay. We had dinner at the Japanese restaurant there and my kids actually used chopsticks successfully for the first time! They didn't try sushi, but ate chicken tempura and some edamame. My husband and I had sushi...the "Volcano" sushi was excellent!

Day 3: Animal Kingdom/Pool Party

This is a totally underrated park. We almost didn't go but it turned out to be very fun! How many zoos do you know of that have a rollercoaster?

As soon as we got to the park, we made a bee-line for Expedition: Everest (the rollercoaster) to get a fast pass so we wouldn't have to wait in line.

(The Fast Pass at Disney is a little known, ingenious system. You use your tickets in a machine by the ride to get passes that tell you when to come back--usually a couple of hours later--so that you can avoid waiting in a 50 minute line. When you come back at the designated time, they take you right on! It's awesome and a MUST if you are going during a busy time. We pretty much never waited in any long lines. The only downside is that you must use up a fast pass before you can get another one. That's not too bad, though, because there are only a few rides at each of the parks with really horrendous waiting times.)

In the meantime, we walked through a zoo area with tigers and monkeys and exotic birds. Then, we watched an awesome bird show. My favorite was seeing the gorgeous bald eagle. I don't think I've ever seen one that close up.

Then, it was time for Expedition: Everest! My son D. just made the 44 inch height requirement and we plunged into a rollercoaster made to simulate a Mount Everest hike, complete with a scary Yeti that pops out while you're in the dark in the mountain. We were screaming our heads off! And my son had his hands up in the air the whole time. So cute.

Later, we went on the Kilimanjaro Safari, a simulated safari-ride. (I love the fact that all the Disney "cast" that operates all their rides in all the parks are such good actors! They really get into their roles and try to make you feel like you're really in Africa, or Mars, or a fairytale land, or a haunted mansion...very cool!) Anyway, we saw the gators that my daughter was afraid of seeing, and a whole bunch of other cool animals. The ride was purposely very bumpy, too, for effect.

The last thing we did was the Kali River Rapids (got fast passes for the end of the day). I love watching the kids' faces on these rides when they're getting soaked or going down a steep drop. Adorable!

Left in the late afternoon to go to a pool party at our friends' condo. They had come down for spring break too with their kids. Our kids played and had a great time together. Pool and pizza. What could be better?

Day 4: Magic Kingdom

Where fairytales come true...

This was, as expected, the most crowded of the parks. But, fortunately, we heard that we came at a relatively good time, post-peak, with only about 35, 000 people in the parks per day. (LOL. I know that doesn't sound like few people, but apparently, duing peak season, they get upwards of 85, 000 people! I can't even imagine, because it seemed plenty crowded to me.)

Regardless, we used the fast pass technique, and painlessly got on the most popular rides without much wait, so that was great. Our favorites were Splash Mountain, Big Thunder Mountain, and Space Mountain. My son also enjoyed racing a "car" at the Indie Speedway. We did the Teacups, of course, and I enjoyed it more than I had at 12 since it was fun to watch my kids having fun.

We also got to meet a lot of characters here and get their "autographs" (insert snarky laugh here), including Cinderella, Belle, Aurora, Mickey and Minnie, Donald Duck, Goofy, Buzz, Woody, and Jessie. I'm probably forgetting some...a busy day! We were too tired to stay and watch the evening parade and fireworks and decided to come back on the last day for a second go-around.

Day 5: Hollywood Studios

I thought this place would be the dud, but no...No Disney park is a dud! First thing we did was get fast passes for the Tower of Terror, which is a frightening elevator drop in an old, abandoned and haunted "Hollywood" hotel. Probably my favorite ride since I was the most surprised on it. It drops you, then lifts you up, then drops you again and it's hard to predict when it's over. A total scream!

Then, my husband and I took turns going "single rider" on the Aerosmith Rock and Rollercoaster. This was the only ride that my kids couldn't go on since you had to be 48 inches tall. Lots of G forces. Aerosmith music blaring. Pretty awesome and prob my husband's favorite ride since he's a big Aerosmith fan. Too bad we couldn't ride it together...We'll have to take the kids back someday and do it as a family.

(Aside: The "single rider" option is also a little known, ingenious system. If you go in this line on any ride, you have no wait at all! They just use people from this line to fill in gaps in each of the cars that depart.)

One of my very good friends from college who lives in Florida met us at the park around noontime with her kids. I get very nostalgic when I see my old friends and it really chokes me up to see my kids playing with their kids. We had lunch together and as the day progressed, the kids really warmed up to each other. Later, my son and one of her sons signed up for the "Jedi Academy". They dressed up as Padawans in training and got instruction in the ways of the Jedi on stage with a Jedi master and even fought with Darth Vader on their own. Those are some of my favorite pics from the trip. It's so cute to see my tiny son standing up to the evil Darth! Haha...

We also watched an awesome stunt show, took an impressive back lot tour, and met a whole bunch more characters, including Chip and Dale, Mulan, Pluto, and the cast of Up. My kids really enjoyed a ride called Toy Story Midway Mania, too.

Day 6: Pirate Pool/Magic Kingdom

On our last full day, we decided to spend half the day relaxing by the pool. Our condo had an impressive pool complete with a large replica pirate ship with a waterslide that my kids were dying to go on. Unfortunately, you had to be 48 inches tall, so the only one who got to enjoy that portion was me! Heehee. Still, they had an awesome time swimming and going under the showering fountains in the pool.

Later, we met our friends again (the ones who had come down for spring break as well) at Magic Kingdom and we saw the afternoon parade and stage show with all of our kids. Our kids enjoyed going on Big Thunder Mountain, Cinderella's Carousel, Dumbo the Flying Elephant ride, Peter Pan's flight, the Haunted Mansion, the Teacups, the Indie Speedway, Buzz Lightyear's Ranger Spin, and the It's a Small World ride together. (Looking at this list now, I can't believe we did all that in half a day!)

In the evening, we said goodbye to our friends and went to Disney Downtown for our last dinner in Disney at the House of Blues. Then, we took them to the World of Disney store and let them pick out a souvenir. My daughter got a baby Bambi stuffed animal and my son got a 3-eyed alien (from Toy Story)...and if you knew them, you would know that those are the PERFECT souvenirs for each of them. LOL. Sweet and weird. I love it! We also came home with Mickey T shirts for the kids, Mickey and Minnie jibbitz for their crocs and I got a couple of Disney magnets for my fridge. (That's the souvenir I like to get from our travels...)

Day 7: Traveling

It's always depressing to leave when you've been on vacation, but we were happy with all we got to see and do in a week. We told the kids we'll try to bring them back someday and my daughter asked if it could be next year! I think I'm going to say we'll go back when they're both 48 inches...:)

Modern Times, Modern Parenting

2010-04-13T21:30:00.007-04:00

My 7 year old daughter came home from school recently and made the following announcement: "Mom, my friend S. said that in some states, men can marry men and women can marry women."

It would be an understatement to say I was shocked. I, myself, had no clue what it meant when people used the word "gay" until I was 10 years old and in the fifth grade, so I guess I just expected my 7 year old to have no idea either.

But, alas, these are less repressed times than when I grew up. (And that is certainly a good thing...)

I feel silly now for being so naive as to think my kids WOULDN'T notice. I mean, how many times have we been out and seen gay couples? Don't they probably have schoolmates whose parents are gay? Haven't I watched the news with them when the topics have been gay rights and same sex marriage? And how many times have we listened to "I Kissed a Girl" by Katie Perry on the radio?

Obviously, my kids are not stupid, and it was stupid of me to assume that they wouldn't figure it out.

Anyway, it turned out to be a great thing. I remembered that when I was 10 (and finally figured out what "gay" meant) that the LAST people I would've wanted to talk to about it would've been my parents. They would not have engaged me in conversation about something which in their generation (and with their backgrounds) would have been considered so deviant. I guess I must have known that at the age of 10, too, and that was probably why I avoided the topic with them.

So, though I was shocked, I was also really happy that she was talking to ME about it. Obviously, she was not afraid to bring it up and that is a good thing. (Hopefully, she's not afraid to bring up other stuff in the future, too.) This way, I can make sure she's getting the right information. (I can still remember being so confused at the age of 10, having heard about gay people from a few girl friends in class, who had only rudimentary knowledge themselves. For the longest time back then, I thought "gay" meant what I now know to mean "hermaphrodite"!)

Anyway, after my daughter made her announcement, my 5 year old son, who was in the room, exclaimed, "What! If men can marry men, then one man would have to be the woman and that would be WRONG!"

He looked pretty outraged. (That was another thing that made me realize it was actually great that we were having this conversation now, while they were still young and malleable.)

So, I said, "Actually, she's right. Men can marry men and women can marry women. Most people marry their opposite, but some people like to be with the same. And if two men are together, one of them doesn't have to be "the woman". They can both be men and be together."

You can imagine the controversy that ensued. They then wanted to know what else people could marry. Could you marry anything? Like stuffed animals? How about other inanimate objects? Actually, it got a little ridiculous, but I kept repeating that PEOPLE could only marry other PEOPLE, and they finally got it.

They seem too young to know what exactly it means for two people to marry each other, so I finally just said, "Well, if you want to get married someday--and you don't have to if you don't want to--you can marry a man or a woman. Probably you'll marry the opposite. Someday you'll know who you want to marry, a man or a woman. Don't worry about it right now."

I'm hoping that's all they need to know for at least a few more years...!!!

Sexism is Alive and Well

2010-04-07T14:59:00.006-04:00

There are many things about my Indian culture that I love: the history, the scientific discoveries, the art, the music, the fashion, the food, the religious and the philosophical histories.

One thing that I can't stand, however, is our tradition of backwards thinking about women and their roles in society. I'm certainly not speaking for ALL Indian people, but there are still a large number of Indian men AND women who buy into the notion that women are inferior to, less intelligent than, and less capable than men.

It may seem hard to believe in this modern age that sexism is still rampant, but I can assure you that it is. I have experienced it first-hand, I have seen it growing up in a large Indian community in New Jersey, and I have heard about it from the patients I care for as a women's health professional, and from the experiences of my friends and family members.

Sometimes it is blatant: physical, sexual, or verbal abuse. But, sometimes, it's more subtle. Sometimes, it's just making a woman feel stupid, feel worthless, feel like she doesn't know as well, doesn't have the same rights as her boyfriend or spouse or father or guardian, that she doesn't have the right to even determine her own destiny or make her own decisions. Women, being physically smaller and weaker than their testosteroned counterparts, are mistakenly viewed as weaker in other areas, like their intellect and judgement. It makes me so angry! Sometimes, I want to go to a rooftop and scream:

A PENIS DOES NOT MAKE YOU A SMARTER OR BETTER PERSON!

Now, I know some of you will think I'm man-bashing right there, but I assure you that I'm just as likely to assert:

A VAGINA ALSO DOES NOT MAKE YOU A SMARTER OR BETTER PERSON!

I wish everyone would just realize that what actually makes a smarter and better person is EDUCATION. Ignorance, in my opinion, is the root cause of all the evil in the world.

Why do so many cultures de-value women? Is the cause religion? Is the cause herd mentality? Is it brainwashing? I have no idea. But I know the solution: to be aware, to observe and report it, to not let it slide, and to EDUCATE, EDUCATE, EDUCATE this and the next generation that women have the same intellectual abilities and rights as men.

Anyway, I found the following very interesting checklist on my internet exploits about what causes the faulty thinking behind sexism...I thought I'd reprint it here for those interested...I think it's good to know the cause when trying to find a cure:

FAULTY BELIEFS HELD BY SEXIST CULTURES:

1. Women are inherently evil (dishonest, manipulative, unfaithful, untrustworthy, etc.)

2. Women are inherently sexual beings.

3. Women are reduced to their "bodily" aspects, at the expense of their spiritual or intellectual selves.

4. Women are reduced to objects, who live in a man's world where the men are viewed as the predominant actors and/or subjects.

5. Women are inherently weaker than their male counterparts.

6. Women need to be properly controlled by--or governed by--men.

7. Women are powerless to help themselves or others.

8. Women are reduced to care-givers. They are praised for empowering (helping, mothering, assisting) others and condemned for helping themselves.

Twenty Years Later

2010-04-05T23:07:00.003-04:00

Twenty years ago this month, I nearly killed myself and all of my best friends.

It was my 18th birthday. I was a senior in high school, graduating in only a few months, and looking forward to going to Boston University in the fall. I had many reasons to celebrate.

I had recently gotten my driver's license, after many pain-staking and frustrating lessons with my father all over northern New Jersey. In honor of my birthday, my aunt had graciously offered up her brand-new burgundy Toyota Corolla (it still smelled new) to take my friends out for lunch. I accepted her offer without hesitation.

I took all my best girl friends in my aunt's car and a couple of guy friends took another car and we went to a Pizza Hut for lunch. We had a great time. I still have the pictures (which I never look at but also am afraid to throw away) to prove it. We are all mugging for the camera, smiling, happy, and ignorant of what would happen only a short while later.

On the way back, I followed the guys' car from downtown Jersey City, taking Route 1 and 9. If you are not familiar with it, it is a high speed highway with occasional lights. At some intersections, there are no lights and you may make turns to the left, if you are cautious and speed through when there are no vehicles that are coming in your direction. It was at one of these spots where we paused, signalling to make a left turn, my car behind the car I was following. When the guys' car turned at a break in the traffic, I, too, turned, failing to pause a moment and see if there was enough of a break in the on-coming traffic for my car to also make it.

I don't remember the car that struck us, who was driving it, what I saw or felt in those few moments. It happened so fast. A blink, and my aunt's car was totalled, crushed on the passenger's side, and all of my friends and I tossed in its interior. I was removed from the vehicle, shaking, heart racing, but otherwise unhurt. My friends were removed also, one of them--my very best friend who had sat on the passenger's side--taken away in a neck brace by ambulance.

My father arrived and I wished in that moment that I really had died. It would be easier than facing him, I thought. But, strangely, he had nothing to say to me, except to hold me in his arms tightly like I was 3 years old again. I don't remember if he cried, but it felt as if he did.

Somehow, my friends were unscathed. I don't know how it was possible that all of us walked away from such a severely mangled vehicle without an injury. Over the years, I sometimes visit that day and think of all the different things that could have happened and how different my life (and my friends' lives) might have been. I could have died. They could have died. I could have lost limbs. They could have lost limbs. I could have been paralyzed. They could have been paralyzed.

As the years pass, that one day, to me, seems more and more important. If things had been different, I wouldn't have finished school, I wouldn't have gotten married, I wouldn't have had children, I wouldn't do all the things I do today and will do tomorrow.

Each day after that day is a gift.

I have been bad about keeping touch with my high school friends. Our paths diverged. In recent years, I've found most of my best high school girl friends back on Facebook. To see their smiling pictures on Facebook is a comfort. To know that I didn't ruin their lives on that horrible day is a comfort. To know they would still speak to me, consider me a friend, is a comfort.

In a couple of months, I'll be going to my 20 year high school reunion. I wasn't sure before if I would go. It's so easy to get caught up in your busy life and make excuses: I have work, I have the kids' piano recital the day after, I'll be doing 8 hours of driving in one day, etc.,etc....

But then I remembered my 18th birthday--a day that could have ended in so many horrible ways, but thankfully, ended in the way it did, with everyone alive and well.

I can't wait to see my high school friends again. I want to know all the great things they've managed to do in all the time that I could have stolen from them.

Twenty years, like a car crash, pass in a blink.

Happy Blogiversary!

2010-03-29T13:17:00.005-04:00

One year ago today, I started this blog. It's amazing how quickly time passes...

So many things have changed over the past year. I started this thing on the advice of some people I met at a writing conference who told me that it would help me to get established as a writer. I'm not sure if it's really doing that, but I don't really care at this point. I have no idea where I'm going with this thing, but one thing I do know is that I'm not going to stop!

I love having this outlet for my thoughts and ideas and to have a place to record all the things that happen that I'd like to remember someday. I especially love all the stuff about my kids that I write on here. They are growing up fast and I love reading the stuff that I wrote about things they said or did in the past year. Someday, I'll print it all out and make a little book for them...

Also, this blog has helped me write more and write better. Writers write. And so, thanks to this blog, I can say I'm a writer without actually ever having to be published. I write; therefore, I am.
I admit that it's a little counterproductive to have this blog when my real goal is to write a novel. It takes valuable time away that I could be using toward that end, but on the other hand, if I didn't have this outlet, I would probably have thrown the novel in the trash by now. It gets boring dwelling on one thing for a very long time. This way, when I get annoyed or frustrated with noveling, I distract myself with the blog, and then I can return to it later with fresh eyes.

Speaking of the novel, it's still coming along. I'm almost done with the second draft. I'm planning on being done with it by May, which is when I'm starting a new job. I figure I'll take a little time off from it when I start work. Shelve it for a month or two and then read it and start a third draft sometime this summer. It is already much, much better than my atrocious first draft (though I'm still not happy with it). I figure each time I do another draft, it'll just keep getting better, until of course, I've reached my creative potential, at which point I'll submit it somewhere. Whether it will actually ever turn into a published book is another matter entirely, one that I try not to worry about. Just like the point of life is to LIVE, so the point of writing is to WRITE. The reward is the process itself, and not what you hope to gain at the end (or at least that's how I hope it works)!

Anyway, I want to thank you, friends, for dropping by here once in a while and saying "hello". I write this blog for myself, but I also enjoy your opinions and your thoughts. It's been a wonderful way to connect with people who share the same interests as me. Whether it's writing, books, art, culture, childrearing, or so many other things we've talked about, I've learned so much from all of you! Please keep dropping by when you get the chance...:)

Where Sexism is Born

2010-03-27T09:00:00.000-04:00

"The family is the basic cell of government: it is where we are trained to believe that we are human beings or that we are chattel, it is where we are trained to see the sex and race divisions and become callous to injustice even if it is done to ourselves, to accept as biological a full system of authoritarian government." --Gloria Steinem

Words, Words, Words

2010-03-25T21:24:00.001-04:00

The latest gems from my literary excursions:

charpoy--n. light bedstead used in India
apostate--n. deserter of one's faith, cause, etc.
usury--n. lending money at exorbitant rates of interest
politburo--n. the executive committee and chief policy making body of a Communist party
castigate--v. to scold severely
mollify--v. to appease in temper
proletariat--n. the working class
pied-a-terre--n. apartment for part-time use
mealy-mouthed--adj. avoiding candid speech
senescence--adj. growing old
planish--v. 1. to give a smooh finish to (metal) by striking lightly with a smoothly faced hammer or die; 2. to give a smooth finish to (metal, paper, etc.) by passing through rolls
bacchanal--n. occasion of drunken revelry
maudlin--adj. weakly sentimental
proselytize--v. to try to convert (someone) to another opinion, belief, etc.
habiliment--n. 1. a. clothes or clothing; b. clothes as worn in a particular profession, way of life, etc.; 2. accoutrements or trappings
intransigence--adj. refusing to compromise
scupper--n. 1. drain at the edge of a deck exposed to the weather for allowing accumulated water to drain away into the sea or into bilges; 2. drain, closed by one or two flaps; 3. any opening, in the side of a building as in a parapet for draining off rain water
scupper--v. 1. to overwhelm, surprise, and destroy, disable, or massacre; 2. to prevent from happening or succeeding; wreck
cosset--v. 1. to treat as a pet; pamper; coddle; 2. n. lamb brought up without its dam; pet lamb; 3. any pet
arcadian--adj. 1. of Arcadia; 2. rural, rustic, or pastoral, esp. suggesting simple, innocent contentment; n. 3. native of Arcadia; 4. the dialect of ancient Greek spoken in Arcadia
torpid--adj. 1. inactive; 2. dull or lethargic
longueur(s)--n. long and boring passage in a literary work, drama, musical composition, or the like
archimedean--adj. 1. of, pertaining to, or discovered by Archimedes; 2. of or pertaining to any ordered field, as the field of real numbers, having the property that for any two unequal positive elements there is an integral multiple of the smaller which is greater than the larger
perspicacious--adj. having keen insight
slog--v. 1. to plod heavily; 2. to work hard
fubar--adj. not working, completely messed up; bungled; confused
posit--v. to lay down or assume as a fact or principle
licentious--adj. sexually immoral
manacle--n. 1. handcuff; 2. v. to handcuff
hummock--n. very small hill
rill--n. small rivulet or brook
wheedle--v. to influence (a person) by flattery
leafmold--n. compost or layer of soil consisting chiefly of decayed vegetable matter, esp. leaves
gibbous--adj. 1. (of a heavenly body) convex at both edges, as the moon when more than half full; 2. having a hump on the back
parse--v. 1. to analyze (a word or sentence) grammatically; 2. to admit of being parsed
etagere--n. stand with a series of open shelves for small objects, bric-a-brac, etc.
stultify--v. 1. to cause to look foolish; 2. to make futile or ineffectual
rasping--adj. 1. harsh; grating; 2. minute piece removed by rasping; 3. dry bread crumbs
sibilant--adj. 1. hissing; 2. n. hissing sound
lintel--n. beam above a door or window
punctilious--adj. exact in the observance of formalities of conduct
imperious--adj. domineering
cloying--adj. 1. causing or tending to cause disgust or aversion through excess; 2. overly ingratiating or sentimental
complicity--n. partnership in guilt
gloaming--n. twilight
effete--adj. 1. decadent; 2. worn out
ponderous--adj. not graceful
trenchant--adj. 1. incisive, keen; 2. vigorous
natty--adj. neatly or trimly smart in dress or appearance; spruce
entre nous--n. between ourselves; confidentially
august--adj. majestic
callow--adj. immature
vitiate--v. 1. to impair the quality or effectiveness of; 2. to make legally invalid
spoor--n. track or scent of a wild animal
maw--n. the mouth, throat, or stomach of an animal
circumspect--adj. cautious, watchful
temporize--v. to delay by evasion
zaftig--adj. 1. (of a woman) having a pleasantly plump figure; 2. full-bodied; well proportioned
capitulate--v. to surrender or yield
propitious--adj. favorable
dulcimer--n. musical instrument with metal strings that are struck with light hammers
demur--v. to raise objections
vicissitude--n. change or variation
denouement--n. the final resolution of a plot or story
apercus--n. 1. hasty glance; glimpse; 2. immediate estimate or judgement; understanding insight; 3. outline or summary
fulmination--n. 1. violent denunciation or censure; 2. violent explosion
pensee--n. reflection or thought
protean--adj. assuming different forms
vertiginous--adj. 1. whirling; 2. affected with or liable to cause vertigo
tropism--n. orientation of an organism to an external stimulus, as light, esp. by growth rather than by movement
trammel--n. 1. something that hinders action; restraint; v. 2. to hinder or restrain
prig--n. self-righteous person
meretricious--adj. 1. alluring by a show of flashy or vulgar attractions; tawdry; 2. based on pretense or deception or insincerity; 3. pertaining to or characteristic of a prostitute
charnel--n. 1. repository for dead bodies; adj. 2. of, like, or fit for a charnel; deathlike, sepulchural
lugubrious--adj. excessively mournful
aspersion--n. derogatory comment
hegemony--n. domination
Apollo Belvedere--n. Roman marble statue, possibly a copy of a Greek original of the 4th to 1st centuries B. C.
gonzo--adj. 1. (of journalism, reportage, etc.) filled with bizarre or subjective ideas, commentary, or the like; 2. crazy, eccentric; 3. n. eccentricity, weirdness, or craziness
presage--v. 1. to foreshadow; 2. to predict
ravening--adj. greedy for prey
decorous--adj. proper or dignified
privation--n. hardship
mordant--adj. 1. sarcastic, biting; 2. burning, corrosive
bellwether--n. 1. one that leads or marks a trend; 2. male sheep wearing a bell and leading a flock
wraith--n. ghost
paragon--n. model of excellence
millenarian--adj. 1. of, or pertaining to, a thousand, esp. the thousand years of the prophesized millenium; 2. of or pertaining to the millenium, esp of Christian prophecy, or millenialism; n. 2. believer in the coming of the millenium

A Fistful of Rice: A Gujarati Fable

2010-03-22T21:00:00.006-04:00

Today's parable is one that my grandfather (my mother's father) used to tell his children. My mother loves to point out to me that her father used to specifically tell this story with daughters-in-law as the main characters rather than sons, which she thought reflected just how much he valued women...

It's a tad predictable, but a great story for young children, who might actually be surprised by the ending...Enjoy...

Once upon a time, there was a very rich old man who had two very capable daughters-in-law. One day, he thought to himself, "I am getting very old and I will need to decide which of my daughters-in-law I can trust to take care of all my fortune when I pass away."

So, one day, he called his daughters-in-law to his side. To each, he gave a handful of unhulled rice and said, "Take very good care of this rice for me. In 4 years time, I will call you again to my side and see how you have cared for it."

The two women were confused and thought the old man must be going mad. The elder daughter-in-law, after some thought, decided to sew a beautiful pouch for the rice. She carefully put the grains in and stored the pouch safely in a trunk in her room.

The younger daughter-in-law, at first, had no idea what to do with the rice. She worried that if she stored it somewhere, an animal might find it and eat it before she could return it to her father-in-law. But then, one day, she thought of an idea.

The next time she went to visit her parents' home, she took the rice with her. There, she asked her brother, who was a farmer, to sow the fistful of rice on a small parcel of land that he hardly ever used. "Brother, grow this rice for me for four years, and at the end of four years, do not re-plant it, but instead, save it for me." He didn't understand why his sister asked for such an unusual favor, but he willingly agreed.

Four years passed and the daughters-in-law, who had become so busy with their lives, had completely forgotten about the rice. It was then that the old man called the two of them to his side and asked them to present the rice he had asked them to watch with care four years before.

The elder daughter-in-law ran straight away to her room and retrieved a beautifully embroidered pouch that was filled with the rice and presented it to him. He was pleased she had been so cautious and careful. Not a single grain was missing.

The younger daughter-in-law, however, had nothing to show him, but she begged him to please allow her to come back and see him in the evening. He agreed. Right away, she went to her brother's house to bring back the rice.

Later, when she approached the old man, he asked her, "Beta, why have you taken all day to get back to me about the rice?"

She explained the whole story to him. She had taken the rice to her brother's house, and he had planted and replanted it for four years for her and now, it had grown so much, that she couldn't easily carry it to him. It had grown into so much rice, in fact, that it had had to be hauled back in a cart that now stood at the entrance of the old man's house! When he went outside to look, the old man was overjoyed. He exclaimed, "Well, you are the kind of girl that will make a pound into a hundred pounds!" He knew then that his younger daughter-in-law would take good care of his fortune someday and was able to live contentedly for the rest of his days.

The K Book Club

2010-03-16T20:37:00.007-04:00

It's tax season, and with the economy in the toilet, I thought I'd do a little public service announcement. Here it is:

Women: stop being idiots about money!

Recently, I heard someone say that it wasn't a good idea to have an IRA. Now, my old self (the younger, more ignorant woman that I was), would have taken that information and thought something idiotic like, "Oh, gosh, really? I guess I better not open an IRA then", but my new self (the one that doesn't know everything, but is smart enough to know what she doesn't know and to look it up and figure it out herself, and who actually already opened an IRA), knew that this information was dead wrong.

It was a landmark moment for me. Though I've had plenty of schooling, I have to say, numbers and math and money are not things I care much about. I studied liberal arts and science and care more about the less concrete (and more obscure) things. So, it is remarkable (to me, at least) that I have any workable knowledge of the financial world.

Most women, I think, are like me. We don't like to worry about money. We just want to make sure there is enough of it so that we can feed and provide for our families. We just don't want to be stressed out about it. So, sometimes, we make the mistake of being too passive with our finances. Though we like to think money is not all that important in the grand scheme of things, it actually is VERY important. Here are a few reasons why it's especially important for women to think about:

Women need to do more financial planning than men.

Women still earn 25% less than men.

Women are the ones hurt most by corporate downsizing.

Only about one woman in five receives a pension over 65.

This is all information I learned from the book above, Smart Women Finish Rich, by David Bach. I pretty much got a crash course in personal finance from this book and learned about all kinds of (surprisingly) interesting things from this book, not just about IRA's but about disability and life insurance, social security, retirement accounts, investment accounts, and college funds. The writer actually makes these topics interesting, not dry at all, by inserting numerous vignettes of real clients and investors. I found it a very fun read, actually, and finished it in only 2 days. And, I liked it so much at the time when I read it, a few years ago, that I bought both my sisters copies of the book, and a copy of Smart Couples Finish Rich for my brother and sister-in-law. I'm sure I'll be having my kids read a version of this book someday, too.

Don't let the title frighten you, either. This book is not for women who already have it "together". It's for every woman: rich, poor, unemployed, stay-at-home, new to the workforce, retired, in school, or in-debt. It will give you tools to deal with your current financial problems while also planning for your retirement and ideas on how to achieve your dreams. Please, please check it out!!!

Words, Words, Words

2010-03-08T12:57:00.001-05:00

I am so addicted to the dictionary app on my phone! Check out the latest and greatest words I've looked up:

pugnacious--adj. always ready to fight

ordnance--n. military weapons of all kinds

ostensible--adj. outwardly appearing as such

tarn--n. small mountain lake or pool, especially one in a cirque

cirque--n. 1. a circle, ring; 2. bowl-shaped, steep-walled mountain basin carved by glaciation, often containing a small, round lake

glaciate--v. 1. to cover with ice or glaciers; 2. to affect by glacial action; 3. to become frozen or covered with ice or glaciers

lurid--adj. 1. sensational; shocking; 2. glaringly lighted

perfidy--n. treachery

titular--adj. 1. being such in title only; 2. of or having a title

pillory--n. 1. wooden framework used to confine and expose offenders; 2. v. to put in a pillory; 3. to expose to public contempt

valorize--v. to provide for the maintaining of the value or price (of a commercial commodity) by a government's purchasing the commodity at the fixed price or by its making special loans to the producers

scythe--n. tool with a longhandle and a curved blade for cutting grass by hand

dally--v. 1. to waste time; 2. to flirt

detritus--n. 1. rock praticles worn away from a mass; 2. debris

metonymy--n. figure of speech that consists of the use of the name of one object or concept for that of another to which it is rleated or of which it is a part, as in 'scepter' for 'sovereignty' or 'bottle' for 'strong drink'

garrote--n. 1. cord, wire, etc. used to strangle a person; 2. v. to strangle with a garrote

scuttle--n. 1. coal bucket; 2. v. to run with short, quick steps; 3. v. to sink (a ship) by making holes in the bottom

obfuscate--v. to confuse

despond--v. to despair

miasma--n. vapor from decaying organic matter

cornerstone--n. 1. stone representing the starting place in the construction of a building; 2. something essential

verisimilitude--n. the appearance of the truth
simulacrum--n. 1. slight, unreal or superficial likeness or semblance; 2. effigy, image, or representation

rakish--adj. jaunty

bromide--n. 1. chemical compound used as a sedative; 2. trite saying

prurient--adj. having or causing lewd thoughts

anathema--n. 1. solemn curse; 2. thing or person detested

parthenogenesis--n. development of an egg without fertilization

apothegm--n. short, pithy instructive saying, terse remark or aphorism

hoary--adj. 1. white with age; 2. old

quern--n. primitive, hand-operated mill for grinding grain

lassitude--n. weariness

maelstrom--n. 1. whirlpool; 2. state of confusion

sedge--n. grassy marsh plant

dauphin--n. eldest son of a king, in France

frisson--n. sudden passing sensation of excitement, shudder of emotion, thrill

acolyte--n. 1. altar attendant; 2. follower

gnomon--n. 1. raised part of a sundial that casts the shadow of a style; 2. early astronomical instrument

prima facie--adj. sufficient to establish a fact unless rebutted

simony--n. 1. making a profit out of sacred things; 2. sin of buying or selling ecclesiastical preferments, benefices, etc.

adamantine--adj. 1. utterly unyielding or firm attitude or opinion; 2. too hard to cut, break, or pierce; 3. like a diamond in luster

habitue--n. regular visitor to a place

contrite--adj. penitent

aerie--n. an eagle's nest

apotheosis--n. 1. elevation to the rank of a god; 2. the ideal example

wry--adj. contorted, twisted; 2. ironic

ablution--n. 1. cleansing with water or other liquid, esp. as a religious ritual; 2. the liquid thus used; 3. washing of the hands, body, etc.

simulacrum--n. 1. slight, unreal, or superficial likeness or semblance; 2. effigy, image, or representation

draconian--adj. 1. of, or pertaining to, or characteristic of Draco or his code of laws; 2. rigorous, unusually severe or cruel

ersatz--adj. serving as a substitute; artificial

demimonde--n. (esp. in the last 1/2 of the 19th century) a class of women who have lost their standing in respectable society because of indiscreet behavior or sexual promiscuity; 2. demimondaine; 3. prostitutes or courtesans in general

sluice--n. 1. channel with a gate to control the flow of water; 2. v. to cleanse with flowing water

lepidoptery--n. branch of zoology dealing with the study of butterflies and moths

circuitous--adj. roundabout

winnow--v. 1. to free (grain) of chaff by a forced current of air; 2. to separate

keen-- 1. n. a wailing lament; 2. v. to wail in lament for the dead

scintilla--n. tiny particle

lingua franca--n. 1. any language that is widely used as a means of communication among speakers of other languages; 2. the Italian-Provencal jargon (with elements of Spanish, French, Greek, Arabic, and Turkish) formerly used in eastern Mediterranean ports

occult--adj. 1. supernatural; 2. secret; 3. n. occult matters

nimbus--n. 1. halo; 2. rain cloud

serried--adj. pressed together or compacted, as soldiers in a row

stertorous--adj. 1. characterized by stertor or heavy snoring; 2. breathing in this manner

parry--v. to ward off; to evade

blandishments--n. coaxing or flattering words

parapet--n. wall at the edge of a roof or terrace

garret--n. attic

expiate-- v. to make amends for

galvanic--adj. 1. pertaining to or produced by galvanism; producing or caused by an electric current; 2. affecting or affected as if by galvanism; startling; shocking; 3. stimulating, energizing

vouchsafe--v. to grant or give

strident--adj. harsh in sound

peripatetic--adj. walking or traveling about

rife--adj. 1. widespread; 2. abounding

The K Book Club

2010-03-08T12:56:00.003-05:00

I've been on a reading binge lately, so I don't have time to give you an in-depth book review of each and every book, but here's the quick version:

The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho

An inspiring, beautifully written parable about finding one's purpose in life. The main character is a shepherd who goes on a quest to find a treasure (but, of course, comes back with much more). It kind of reminded me of Arabian Nights because he tells his story in the same romantic, exotic way Scheherazade does. It feels like you're reading something ancient.

The Awakening, by Kate Chopin

Recommended to me by a friend. It was written in the late 19th century and is about a woman who struggles with the expectations that society places on her. It was scandalous at the time, and the author was pilloried for having written it. She was way ahead of her time in her thinking about women and their roles. It's a must-read for women even now since we still struggle with some of the issues she brings up in the book.

Blue Boy, by Rakesh Satyal

This is a coming of age story about a young Indian-American boy who is struggling not only with the his cultural, but also his sexual identity. Written by a talented new writer. The book has depth, but is also wickedly funny.

Between the Assassinations, by Aravind Adiga

This is a collection of fictional short stories highlighting the political and social problems in modern India. The writing is clear and beautiful, but also brutally honest, and funny. He's the author of The White Tiger, which won a Man-Booker Prize. (I'll be reading that next!)

How to Read Literature Like a College Professor, by Thomas C. Foster

I don't think I'll ever read a novel the same way again! There is a lot more going on in a novel than what I thought. I loved learning about all the symbolism, patterns, and metaphors that are at play. Very often, we read a story and don't even realize that there is an entire, fascinating subtext within it. A very enjoyable read and will also help the budding writer.

I've also read about a bunch of books on writing recently, but I think I'll wait to put those up
since I have a few more I'd like to read...might as well put them all together...

The Clothes-washer and the Elephant: A Gujarati Fable

2010-03-05T11:20:00.000-05:00

Another fable told to me by my parents when I was a child:

Once upon a time, there was a clothes-washer--a dhobhi--who had an elephant. Everyday, the dhobhi went to the river to wash clothes, taking with him his elephant, who carried the large pile of dirty clothes on his back.

One day, the elephant told him that he wasn't feeling well and wanted to stay home and rest. The dhobhi was very upset with him. He threatened to not feed the elephant if he didn't go along and help him with all the laundry. But the elephant felt terrible and refused to go.

Later, after the elephant had rested a while, he went to the river. The dhobhi, seeing him, became incensed and said, "Oh, now you come to see me, to mock me! See how tired I am because you did not help me!"

The elephant, who had truly been sick, said, "No, no...it's not like that. I was very ill and now I have rested and I feel better. So I have come now to help you carry all your clothes back home."

The dhobhi, not believing him, said, "I don't need your help! And I'm not going to feed you today." He scolded him terribly and carried all the clothes back home himself.

The elephant felt shamed and followed him home sheepishly. When they got back, he saw the man eating his dinner and felt so very hungry that he began to cry.

"Please feed me," the elephant begged.

The dhobhi turned away from him and continued to eat his dinner.

Soon, the elephant became angry as well. He got up and returned to the river. There, he stirred the riverbed with his great trunk, making the water all muddy. He took water into his trunk and held it there as he went back to the dhobhi's house. Once there, he sprayed the dirty water all over the dhobhi's house and all over all the clean clothes that the dhobhi had put out to dry on a clothesline.

Now, it was the dhobhi who was crying.

The elephant then asked him, "Now, will you give me food?"

Finally, the dhobhi had understood. From then on, he never treated the elephant unfairly.

The next day, they returned to the river together, each helping the other, and lived long and happy lives.

Moral of the story: Treat others the way you would wish to be treated.

The Cult of Mediocrity

2010-03-03T09:58:00.007-05:00

Watching the Winter Olympics recently, I felt so much awe and admiration for all those amazing athletes. Part of their success, of course, is good genetics. But a larger part, I think, is their hard work and dedication to their respective passions. To work so hard, spend 4 whole years training for just that (sometimes brief) moment in the spotlight, is amazing to me. And, to sometimes not even walk away with the gold, or any medal at all, is so heartbreaking. I have so much admiration for the winners, but just as much for the losers. It takes a lot of grace to lose and to admit that someone is better than you, that maybe you weren't on your game that day, that maybe you didn't work hard enough, that maybe that was the best you could ever do and yet someone else was better than you. What a lot of courage it must take...

Which brings me to my real topic...

My kids, though they are only 6 and 5, have already amassed a small collection of medals and certificates for the various activities they've done in the past couple of years. Last soccer season, they both got faux gold medals on the last day from their coaches. I cringed both times. They are good kids, good team players, and they try hard. They deserved a handshake, a pat on the back, and an ice pop. They did not, however, deserve faux gold medals.

Sometimes, I think this generation of kids hears so much excessive praise (and gets so many gold medals, ribbons, certificates, and such) that I wonder whether they will even bother trying to do better. Why try harder, work harder, when you will get a gold medal anyway? How unfair to the one kid who worked his butt off and really did the best to not get any special acknowledgement of his efforts? And how unfair to all these other kids who, instead of patting their friend on the back and saying, "Good job. You deserved it", are instead learning to throw tantrums when their friend gets an award and they don't. Don't we want to teach kids how to work hard to get the things they want in life, and that when they fall short, that it's o.k. and that they should accept defeat with grace and poise?

Are we are selling our kids short these days, not expecting much of them, settling for mediocrity? How sad if a child does not achieve their full potential just because no one thought they had it in them. When my kids get a medal for just showing up, it feels as if we're saying to them, "You know what, we know you can't do any better, so we're going to give you this gold medal so you don't feel bad about yourself". Instead, shouldn't we just pat them on the back and say that we're proud of their hard work and good team spirit? Someday, they might even win a real (and more legitimate) medal. What's so wrong with that?

I love my kids no matter what, win or fail. They don't need to win any gold medals for me to love them and to be proud of them. When they work hard at something (homework, piano, dance, a game, legos, etc.), I praise them for their hard work. I like to tell them that they did well because they worked hard at something, not because they're the "best" or "number 1" or "perfect", because that's impossible to live up to and, it's just not true. They are just like everyone else--human, and therefore fallible--and the reason they succeed, when they do, is because they tried hard.

That's really all I expect of them--that when they find their passion in life, that they put their whole heart into it and try hard. They may succeed, or they may not. But, if they have truly found their passions, it won't really matter. They'll be doing something they love and, of course, that's a reward in itself.

Fine Art Friday

2010-02-26T09:00:00.002-05:00

Some of my kids' recent artwork...
My son, D., doesn't like drawing and coloring much, but fortunately, he has to do a little for homework...

Buddy, by M.

Fall Field Trip, by D.

Bunny, by M.

What I Did on My Winter Vacation, by D.

Kitty, by M.

Book Report, by D.

Puppy, by M.

Animals in Winter, by D.

Merry Christmas, by D.

Happy Christmas, by M.

Snowman, by D.

Snowman, by M.

Self-portrait, by M.

Words, Words, Words

2010-02-19T18:25:00.007-05:00

I love learning new words, so it's no surprise that ever since I installed the dictionary.com app on my Blackberry that I feel like my entire life has changed. Now, whenever I encounter an unfamiliar word or a kind-of familiar word in my reading, I just punch it into my phone, and voila, I have the precise definition. So many years I've wasted just inferring the meaning of words just because I didn't have a dictionary handy! Now, within seconds, I know exactly what they mean.
The best part is that the app keeps a short record of the words I've looked up so I can go back and refresh my memory. And, since this blog is now my repository for all my interesting new discoveries, it only makes sense that I put them up here. (Who knows? Maybe someone's studying for the SAT's out there and could use another resource...?)
Here are all the words I've looked up so far:

chit--n. a note, esp. a handwritten note
arrack--n. liquor made from toddy palm, rice, or molasses
batten--v. to hold something in place with a strip of wood
timorous--adj. fearful or timid
exigency--n. state of urgency
pablum--n. 1. a soft, bland cereal for infants; 2. trite, naive, or simplistic ideas or writings; 3. intellectual pap
cavil--1. v. to raise trivial objections; 2. n. a trivial objection
ignominious--adj. disgraceful, contemptible
wan--adj. pale, worn-looking
nonplussed--adj. confused
sally--n. 1. a witty remark; 2. a sudden attack
supercilious--adj. haughtily disdainful
piquant--adj. 1. mentally stimulating; 2. agreeably sharp in taste
solicitude--n. anxious concern
sardonic--adj. scornfully mocking
droll--adj. amusing in an unusual way
repast--n. a meal
pall--n. a cloth spread on a coffin
glib--adj. speaking very readily but insincerely
temerity--n. rash boldness
effulgence--n. shining forth brilliantly; radiant
cairn--n. a collection of rocks arranged to look like a marker
acerbic--adj. sharp, sour
lascivious--adj. lewd
succor--1. n. assistance, help, aid; 2. v. to ingratiate, to get in one's favor
tyro--n. a beginner
nihilism--n. 1. the belief that existence has no meaning; 2. total rejection of established laws and institutions
hector--v. to harrass by bullying
denizen--n. inhabitant
otiose--adj. 1. being at leisure, idle; 2. ineffective, futile; 3. superfluous or useless
heuristic--adj. 1. serving to indicate or point out; stimulating interest as a means of furthering investigation; 2. encouraging a person to learn, discover, understand, or solve problems on his or her own, as by experiments, evaluating possible answers or solutions, or by trial and error; 3. of, pertaining to, or based upon experimentation, evaluation, or by trial and error methods
reliquary--n. receptacle for religious relics
tepid--adj. lukewarm
touchstone--n. a test for the quality of a thing
bildungsroman--n. a type of novel concerned with the education, development, or maturing of a young protagonist
gimlet--n. a small tool for boring holes
eschatology--n. any system of doctrines concerning the last, or final, matters, such as death, the Judgment, etc.
spurious--adj. not genuine
primogeniture--n. right of inheritance by the eldest son
salacious--adj. lewd, indecent
aplomb--n. poise; self-possession
ilk--n. family or kind
subsume--v. to consider or include as part of something larger
milquetoast--n. very timid or unassertive person, esp. one who is easily dominated or intimidated
hardscrabble--adj. yielding little for much effort
villanelle--n. a type of poem of fixed form
wanton--adj. 1. malicious or unjustifiable; 2. unrestrained
apocryphal--adj. not verified, of doubtful authenticity
dotty--adj. 1. crazy or eccentric; 2. feeble or unsteady in gait; 3. very enthusiastic or infatuated (usu. followed by 'about' or 'over')
blancmange--n. a type of sweet pudding made with milk
minster--n. any large or important church, cathedral
approbation--n. approval
alacrity--n. cheerful readiness
abstruse--adj. hard to understand

I can't believe how much I've used that little tool!
Check back soon for more wonderful words, words, words...

The Seven-Tailed Mouse: A Gujarati Fable

2010-02-18T20:30:00.003-05:00

They say these days that if you want to raise a reader, you should read to your kids. That got me wondering why I like reading so much when my own parents never actually read me any books. In fact, I don't recall them ever reading me a single book.
But then it all came back to me. They never actually read me any books, but they constantly told me stories--the same stories, in fact, that their parents and grandparents told them. None of these stories is written (that I'm aware of) in any book. They have simply been passed down through the generations orally, from one storyteller to the next.
The storyteller in my family was mostly my dad. He was much better at storytelling than my mom, who was always the more practical one, the realist, the one worrying about how to feed us and bathe us and clothe us. My dad, on the other hand, was always more of the dreamer, and worried more about feeding our minds. He is still an excellent storyteller, getting so excited and lively while telling a child's story, with a little twinkle in his eye and a foolish laugh, that I think I can picture how he must have looked sitting on his mother or father's lap, listening to their stories.
Ever since I had kids, I've been having my parents tell me the stories again so I can tell my kids. I wish I had thought of this sooner, when my grandparents were alive, because I could have collected a lot more than I have collected from my parents. They have memories of some of the tales told by their parents and grandparents, but of course, they are incomplete.
The good thing is that I am finally writing these things down now, so whatever my parents can remember will hopefully be intact for my kids to tell their kids someday. And, I've decided to post them up one by one on this blog over the next year to share with the rest of my family. Maybe it'll bring back some fond childhood memories...
Anyway, before you read the first story I put up, I'd just like to warn you that these fables are much like Aesop's fables or, say, like the stories of Hans Christian Andersen, in that they are often harsh, and sometimes even have unhappy endings. Their purpose was often to teach some moral lesson, so they are often shocking, especially to parents these days who are used to telling only stories with happy endings. It may offend modern parents, so make sure you screen it before you tell your own child and change the ending if you prefer. :) Also, since these are stories from India, the subject matter may seem strange and fantastical...my first story is called the 'Seven-tailed Mouse' for example...
Enjoy...

THE SEVEN-TAILED MOUSE: A GUJARATI FABLE

Once upon a time, there was a mouse who was born with seven tails.

One day, he was old enough to start school. He was very excited and happy to go to school. But when he arrived there, and all the other little mice saw him, they saw his seven tails and teased him terribly, crying, "Seven-tailed mouse, seven-tailed mouse!" and laughed and laughed at him.

The little mouse went home crying to his mother that day. His mother was sad to see him that way and so she decided to take him to the doctor.

"Doctor, all the other mice laugh at my little boy because he has seven tails. Is there anything you can do?"

So the doctor, feeling sorry for the little mouse and his mother, and wanting to help them, removed one of the little mouse's tails.

The next day, the little mouse went to school again. And again, when the other little mice saw him, they teased him and cried, "Six-tailed mouse, six tailed mouse!" and laughed and laughed.

Again, the little mouse came home crying to his mother. And again, his mother took him to the doctor. And again, the doctor was kind enough to remove another tail.

The next day, the mouse returned to school again. And do you know what happened?

(You can imagine how kids will enjoy filling in all the blanks for you and telling you the story all the way up until the little mouse has just one tail left, at which point, we will continue...)

So finally, with just one tail left, the little mouse proudly went to school again. And now do you know what happened?

(This is where most kids, like mine, will tell you that everything was fine then and that the mouse stopped getting teased since he only had one tail, and this is where I have the most fun surprising them by telling them what really happened...)

Oh, no...they didn't stop teasing the little mouse. Now, when all of the other little mice saw him, they cried, "One tailed mouse, one-tailed mouse! Haha..." and laughed and laughed. And again the little mouse went home crying to his mother. And his mother took him back to the doctor and the doctor removed his last tail.

He went back to school the next day and now that he had no tails, he figured no one could make fun of him anymore. But he was so wrong! Now the little mice just cried, "No-tail mouse, no-tail mouse!" and laughed and laughed.

Poor mouse!

Moral of the story: Don't change yourself to please others. Be happy the way you are!

Now, I realize this ending is rather depressing, but I do think that the moral is a good one. Also, I like to think the little mouse eventually learns his lesson and will go back to school holding his little mouse head high and proud of himself just the way he is...even without any tails at all!
Tails are pretty over-rated appendages, anyway...

Fear and Self-Doubt

2010-02-12T11:21:00.010-05:00

I love reading great books, but they also scare the hell out of me because I don't think I can possibly write that well.

Right now, I'm reading Between the Assassinations by Aravind Adiga and it is so amazing that it is making me sick to my stomach...with self-doubt. The imagination, the complexity and diversity of the characters, the plot twists, the descriptive details...it is just amazing...

Reading it, I am very tempted to just say, "F--- it!" and toss everything I've done so far into the wastebasket and give up entirely. It seems pointless...like I am wasting my life away...There are so many other, more enjoyable ways I could be spending my free time: shopping, going out to eat, getting a spa treatment. But no, if I have free time, I toil away on this self-inflicted project as if my life depended on it...

Is something wrong with me that I can't seem to stop working on this even though at times I find it frustrating? Or is this how it's supposed to be? Is it this painful for everyone who has succeeded in writing a book? Or do they just sit down and all their brilliant ideas just spring forth with divine inspiration?

Besides this self-inflicted stress, I am also going to be starting a new job come May and though it is exactly what I would have wished for had someone asked me what I wanted, I'm feeling the anxiety of the unknown, hoping that I do well and am happy there...

I didn't sleep well last night (after reading yet another brilliant short story of Adiga's) and I awoke with the following awful dream:

My husband and I are walking outside in the evening, returning from somewhere…I think, dinner. I notice that there is very little sky visible and it is very dark, filled with clouds. (I think to myself in the dream, “Instead of the sky being streaked with clouds, it looks as if the clouds are streaked with sky…”). The clouds are gray-black, billowy and looming directly overhead. We pass by people on the street who are talking anxiously. We overhear that there has been a break-in and someone has been attacked in their home nearby. The intruder is on the loose. We continue walking and see a very dense, black fog (like the black smoke in those ‘Lost’ episodes…) and it hangs very low, only 6 feet off the ground. It is fascinating. Everyone is talking about the strange fog. We notice one patch of it has a spark going off in it intermittently, similar to a thundercloud, but smaller. It is entirely black and right in front of us. I am tempted to touch it, but I’m afraid. Instead, a woman who is standing nearby and who is holding a small child in her arms touches the cloud. She and the child laugh as it vanishes around them. I wish I hadn’t been so afraid and had just touched the cloud, too, like they had. We continue walking home. We get home and enter through our basement. It’s dark. We go up the stairs and enter the main part of the house and without turning the lights on, we notice that the house has been broken into. Many things are gone, and the things that remain are upturned. It’s a mess. My husband is upset. I see him put a hand on the top of his head, pulling his hair back in frustration. He is near a phone and thinking about picking it up to call someone, maybe the police. I am standing nearby, wanting to look around to see the extent of the damage, but I’m afraid to move from my spot. Instead, I stand there with a sense of doom…

And that was when I woke up.

And of course, there was no intruder in our home...everyone was safe and sound. The kids awoke soon after, cheerful and happy, as usual...which begs me to wonder...

Why am I still feeling afraid?

I Like Waiting in Line (and Other Boring Wastes of Time)

2010-02-08T13:38:00.006-05:00

Not long ago, after Christmas, I went to return something at a Walmart. It was a huge Walmart (I guess they all are) and the line was enormous. I was standing at least a dozen people back. Not long--maybe just a few minutes into the waiting--the lady behind me, who was a grandmotherly type, began complaining to me about how ridiculous it was, and how inefficient it was, and how they should really hire another person at the register. The young, jittery lad in front of me overheard and joined in the complaining, all the while impatiently jangling his keys and the change in his pockets because he was getting stir-crazy from waiting there. I agreed with them out of sympathy, but I would be lying if I said that I actually minded the wait.
I realized then that I actually really LOVE long lines and waiting times! I love to have an excuse to stand around daydreaming. I have to admit that when that lady started complaining to me, I was more upset that she had interrupted all the pleasant thoughts I was having. I wish I could remember what they were...like a good dream, they vanished upon being interrupted from my reverie.
Besides waiting in lines, I also like to wait in doctor's offices and DMV's and I really enjoy driving long distances. It seems like that is the only time that I can have an excuse to just let my mind wander. And, speaking from the experience of being on the other side of that doctor's office, and having spent so many years running around with sometimes no time to go to the bathroom or to eat lunch, I can tell you that it is a LOT more enjoyable to sit for 40 minutes in the waiting room and read a trashy magazine, which I would otherwise never get to do. Most of the time, though, I enjoy visiting my own little inner world when I have nothing better to do. It's a wonderful place. I hope you have the time to visit your own inner world too, and to appreciate it. So many amazing ideas will emerge if you only give it a try.
Of course, there are times when I have places to go and people to see and can't afford to spend an hour waiting in the doctor's office, but generally, I don't plan on going to the doctor's office on those days. I feel lucky that I have days when I do have the luxury to kill a couple of hours for a doctor's appointment. I know that some people cannot. And, I daresay, it might be just that that can kill a person someday: a lack of time to see the doctor, but also a lack of time to just do nothing and relax!
Anyway, I am looking forward to my next doctor's appointment, which will be next week. (It's been too long!)
When I see her and she says "Thank you for waiting so patiently", I'm going to say, "No, thank YOU!"

P. S. Here's a tip: for the longest possible wait time, always book your appointments right before lunch and right at the end of the day, and preferably during or before a holiday week...Have fun waiting!

This Has All Been Said Before

2010-02-08T11:31:00.010-05:00

Recently, I read The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, which is a beautiful novel about finding your destiny in life. I highly recommend it, if you haven't yet read it, because it was very inspiring.

Anyway, in the first couple of pages I was upset to read a metaphor of Coelho's (of someone's eyes being like the reflecting pool in the story of Narcissus) because I had written something very similar in a poem a long time ago, without ever having read Coelho before. (Of course, his metaphor was better used, but still...) Anyway, I had always thought that that was my own original idea and, naively, I thought that no one else in the world could have thought of it too.

I called my sister up (who was the one who originally recommended the book to me) to complain and whine. She only laughed at me (as I'm sure anyone reading this is doing) and said, "Don't worry about it too much. They say that there are no original thoughts in this world."

No original thoughts! Well, hearing that, I was even more upset. No one has any original thoughts in this world and everything we think has been thought of before?! I argued with my sister a little about this, but she won the argument and I had to concede that she was perhaps right since there are, after all, millions of people in the world, and there have been millions before, and what made me think that I could come up with something no one else on Earth had thought of before? How silly...

That thought--that there are no original thoughts--is, however, a thought, I think, that could easily make another, maybe more depressive writer, want to jump off a bridge...and I do believe some probably have, thinking, "What's the point, anyway?"

(By the way, I would like to apologize for that tongue twister--there was really no easier way to say all that...)

The only way that I've reconciled this notion is by telling myself that yes, maybe there are no original thoughts, but there are original ways of thinking about those same thoughts, and original ways of writing those thoughts, and it is still worthwhile to try and leave your own tiny fingerprint on the world with your writing.

I like to think of the writing as a mature version of a child's carving their name in a tree or leaving their handprint in wet cement, done as if to say to anyone who may come by after them, "Hey, I was here...and I loved this place."

I am a Murderer of Chickens

2010-02-05T11:30:00.005-05:00

Last night, I roasted a chicken for dinner. My son saw me washing the bird in the sink and said, "Mom, I don't want you to make chicken because then the chicken has to die. And I like chickens."

Perhaps this was cruel, but I raised my eyebrow at him and looked at him as if to say, "Dude, are you SERIOUS?" and then I said, "D., the chicken is already DEAD."

"Oh."

There was a short pause, as he stood there staring at me washing the thing in the sink with his very large and soulful, cow-like eyes.

Then he said, "How did he die? Was he hit by a car?"

It took all my strength not to laugh. I realized that he was in for some troubling information and contemplated for a second saying , "Why, yes, he was hit by a car and the supermarket picked him up and washed him off and then I brought him home so we can eat him for dinner. Why waste a perfectly good chicken just because it was hit by a car?"

I decided that that explanation was just as disturbing as the truth, so I just told him the truth: "No, D. The chicken didn't get hit by a car. It was killed on the farm and sent to the store so we could buy it to cook and eat it."

I can't believe I am part of a conspiracy to murder chickens! So horrible!

Looking dejected, he asked, "But there are still some more chickens, right, Mom?"

"Oh yeah, there are plenty of chickens! We just have one chicken here. There are still plenty back at the farm."

"That are not dead?"

"No, they're not all dead."

"Oh, good. Because I like chickens."

And then he went off to play while I basted, seasoned, and popped his chicken-friend in the oven.

Naturally, it was one of the most awful meals I have ever made. I've decided that it's much better to serve them chicken that doesn't actually look like chicken...you know, like chicken nuggets.

I feel bad enough as it is about meat-eating since I was raised by a vegetarian mother who practices ahimsa, going so far as to scuttle out wayward insects that have found their way into her home, and now, I am feeling even more guilty because of my empathic little chicken-loving son.

Maybe it's time to become a vegetarian...?

What Was I Thinking?!

2010-02-02T20:28:00.004-05:00

I'm not sure what kind of self-deluded fantasy caused me to proclaim recently that "I'd like to do the first edit of my book in January", because the reality actually played out more like this: I got half-way through reading the first draft, decided it was boring as hell, tossed it to the side, and started rewriting the whole thing again.
Yup...you heard me right. I scrapped all 380 pages and started over. I'm on page 25 now. (I should be depressed about this, but I am too irrational right now to let it get to me. Ask me in another 30 days and the answer might be different.) Anyway, I think it sounds better than the first draft, which sounded annoyingly like chick-lit. (You can only imagine how bad it must have been if even I couldn't get through the whole thing!)
I realize that I may come to the end of writing a second draft and end up in the same place that I am now--meaning, having to start over for a third time. I've decided to stop worrying about that. Some people work for 10 years on a book. What made me think I was going to be able to churn it out after only spending a year on it? It's really OK if I have to do this over and over again until I get it right. Because the point is to make one good, valuable thing by the end of my life. Someday, I hope my kids will read it, maybe even my grandkids. That's who it's for, so there's no rush, right? (Unless, of course, I die before said time comes, in which case I will be too dead to be depressed about it. And in that case, my legacy will just have to be all my lame writings on this blog. Thankfully, I will be too dead to be depressed about that as well.)
It helps to know that I don't have to rely on writing to earn a living, because of course, in that case, I would most certainly STARVE! So, I can just putter away with this as long as I have the patience, time, and inclination to do it. Makes it more fun, that's for sure.
So, that's where I am. No more strenuous time limits on this thing. The writing/rewriting is going to be done at the chronic and agonizing pace of months to years to decades. Please pray that I finish it before I die. And, that it doesn't turn out to be some shitty chick lit book that makes my kids and their progeny gag with disgust.
Amen.

This Blog is on Sabbatical...Again

2010-01-06T10:13:00.004-05:00

OK, well, it's a new year. Time to try and make good on my resolutions. I'm a little behind schedule, but I was hoping to do a first edit of my book this month. Hopefully, I'll have a decent excerpt from it for you to read when I get back.

I'm sad to temporarily say goodbye to the blog, but it has to be done. I just know things will come up that I will want to write about, but I'm going to have to divert that energy into the book instead. I'll miss you guys! If you want to see what I'm up to, please check my Twitter feed on the right. That gives me at least a small outlet (140 characters or less) for my thoughts.

Happy January! See you next month...

K.

May All Your Resolutions Come True

2010-01-01T18:10:00.012-05:00

Normally, I keep my New Year's resolutions to myself. However, in light of the fact that I have this blog now, and in light of the fact that I don't seem to keep much to myself these days, I thought it only made sense to share them this year with everyone.

I know the whole "making resolutions" thing seems like a lot of bullshit to most. Why would anyone think the first of the year would make someone more serious about doing something than the other 364 days of the year? In fact, if a person has to wait until the first of the year to start something, clearly they don't think it's important enough to do sooner, and therefore, they are probably DOOMED. More than likely, they will be falling off the wagon by the 30th and kicking themselves the rest of the year.

Regardless of this, I am still a fan of the arbitrary, January 1st resolution start date, even if it is doomed-to-fail. I like to think of them more like "promises" than "resolutions". Also, my resolutions pretty much stay the same from year to year, with minor changes, so it doesn't really feel like I'm starting for the first time on January first anyway. January 1st serves more as a reminder that I need to get my act together and focus on my goals. On that day, I rewrite them on a little yellow sticky note and and every week when I flip my planner, they move into that week. They follow me around the entire year, reminding me in a cheerful way of what I'd like to achieve.

For the past year, my sticky note has said the following:

1. Stay fit.

2. Teach the kids some Gujarati.

3. Write a book.

I know that these are a strange bunch of resolutions. Probably the only one everyone can relate to is #1. In my case, "staying fit" means working out at least 3 times a week. I am not really good with eating healthy, so I don't stress myself out by worrying about that if I can manage to be fit by working out alone. I know it's not the best solution, but that's all I can commit to right now. In the future, I hope to also prioritize eating healthy and maybe becoming a vegetarian. Right now, I don't have the energy or interest to do it.

As for why "teaching the kids Gujarati" is on my list, allow me to explain. Of course, I want to teach my kids a whole lot more than just Gujarati. I want them to do well in school, be responsible and trustworthy, be kind, be generous, be good friends and siblings, and learn about their ancestry and culture. All of these things are already in the process of happening. They are an ongoing project that I don't think will ever be complete. (Hell, I'm an ongoing project that I don't think I'll ever complete.) Their teachers and the community and our family all have roles here.

The Gujarati, however, is not going to just "happen" unless I make it happen, if you know what I mean. That's something I need to put on the list so that I am reminded to speak to them in our native tongue now and then, or to expose them to it in classes or in the community. I know it's not necessary for them to learn Gujarati, but there is some deep desire in me to at least try and give them that gift, however useless it may be in the future. Mostly, I am appreciative that my parents taught it to me. I hope it will help them better understand their roots. Besides, anything a person learns and knows empowers them. I would love for them to be rich with knowledge.

Lastly, the sticky note said "write a book" for the last couple of years and incredibly, that goal finally happened (though we won't go into its quality right here). I do think I employed a little bit of what people call "The Secret" in completing the thing. No, it wasn't magic, but there is something to be said for telling yourself constantly, weekly, daily, that this is what you want to do. Somehow, not only do you start thinking and working toward that goal, but so do other people. I never knew what they meant by that, but now I do. I told so many people that I wanted to write a book, that I was writing a book, and you know what, at some point, some of them (not all) stopped laughing at me long enough to say, "you know what, I think she's going to write a book!" and then the next thing that happened was whenever they heard anything about writing books, they would let me know. If an interesting article came up, or when NaNoWriMo came up, or when someone found a book that was about writing that I should read, or if they read an inspirational writing quote, or if they knew about a writing conference I might be interested in, or if they knew a friend who was an editor, or if they knew about a contest or if they had heard about someone who was accepting stories, they called, emailed, facebooked, or texted me. It was in that manner that my book has finally been written: with the help of many, many friends and family members who kept sending me more info and help. (Thank you so much guys!!!)

So, what I'm trying to say is this: I think the power of reminding yourself of your dream frequently and being brave enough to tell everyone about it is that then the whole world conspires with you and helps you achieve it. Seriously. Yes, there are the people who may not support you and who are cynics and who think you will fail and think it ludicrous. (These people exist everywhere and you can't take them personally. In fact, you should feel very sorry for them, because if truth be told, they are so cynical that not only do they think you can't achieve your ridiculous goals, but they also don't think they could achieve goals like that. Therefore, they don't even bother trying anything. They consider this a smart way to live, but we know better. How sad to have so little faith in yourself and humanity! We should pity them. And then, we should prove them wrong!)

*wink*

Anyway, for 2010, my resolutions are pretty much staying the same except that number 3 is now going to be "Edit the book" and I'm adding a 4th resolution: "Write another book." (Yes, I'm a crazy person!)

Finally, I'd like to leave you all with a fabulous quote that a wonderful nurse-friend gave to me last year. It's on a magnet that used to hang on my locker at work and which now hangs on my fridge. It's something I like to remind myself often, but especially at the start of a brand new year, and something that I hope you will take to heart as well:

Promise yourself to be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind. Look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true. Think only the best, work only for the best, and expect only the best. Forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future. Give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others. Live in the faith that the whole world is on your side so long as you are true to the best that is in you! --Christian D. Larson

Happy New Year everyone! May all your resolutions come true!

The Blue Dress (a fictional short story)

2009-12-30T22:11:00.009-05:00

Today, I was going to finish sewing the dress. The shirt has been done for weeks. I used Vijay's measurements for the shirt even though Ravi is only 5 because they tell me that boys in America are much bigger than here. I used the same fabric for both: a clean blue cotton that I bought the last time I went to Navsari, from the fancy new shop. It was expensive, but I have saved the money in the kitchen tin (that Vinod does not know about) for just something like this. The color reminded me of a dress Laxmi wore to school, that I have held onto all these years. I fashioned it in the same style: short sleeves with a shirt bodice and a skirt to the knees. I wonder if Roopa would look like her mother in it? I could have finished it last night but the light was fading. And my eyes are getting old and I cannot sew by only the light of the kerosene lamp, as I did when Laxmi was just a child. The things I did for that girl!

Sometimes I wish--God forgive me--that she had stayed here in the village, stopped going to school in the 6th grade (as I had) and married one of the village boys instead so I could walk to their home everyday and see her. When she left us, it was as if the sun had left the sky. Everyday I cried. I wrote her many letters. And she wrote me back, but it took so long to hear back. Everyday I waited for the post. On most days, it never came. And at that time, we did not even have a phone in our house. The nearest phone was in the next village at the school master's house.

For a long time, I could not eat, I could not sleep. My sorrow cast a long shadow upon our home. That was the year Bapa died. And the beetles ruined the sugar cane. Vinod never said anything, but I could tell he was also not the same. He said we have to accept our destiny, that we were lucky to be blessed with a daughter like this, one who the Gods had showered with good fortune.

It took many months before I accepted her absence. I slowly returned to my usual ways. I woke up early again. I didn't cry when people asked me about her. I started visiting my sisters and brothers again. I went shopping in Gandevi. I haggled with the vendors again, instead of allowing them to rob me as they always tried. I cooked Vinod's favorite meals, and we took long walks in the evening in our mango grove again. We always stopped at the spot where she had been bitten by the snake and remembered that she could have left us even sooner. I paid more attention to Vinod now, and tried to think less of Laxmi. We needed each other more now. On many days, I did not think about my daughter the entire day or even mention her in conversation, but in the evening, when I tried to sleep, she was what I thought about. I stayed up some nights, turning over and over on the bed, feeling every rope that supported the thin bedding beneath me, thinking about her, the small memories like pictures coming into my head.

I would remember her at 2, getting tangled in the sari between my legs, laughing, and at 6, ready in the morning for school, face scrubbed clean with 2 braids tied at the ends with yellow ribbons, and at 12, helping me cook on the kitchen hearth, crouched on the floor and flipping the rotli for me over the fire. Her face would haunt me, the smallness of it, with those big eyes. I thought of how Yashoda once saw the entire universe in Krishna's mouth. That was how it was when I looked into that girl's eyes.

Oh, that terrible girl--leaving me here alone! They say the other half of your soul is joined when you marry, but does some of your soul depart you when a child leaves you? Because that is how it is for me. I am incomplete, a piece of me now resides all the way in America.

Sometimes I ask God to please start my life again, elsewhere, so I may forget her and not feel the pain. It is not enough to see my girl once every few years, though it is all I live for. I hang on, because the small hope of a letter, a call, and the time when I can finally see her are all I have left.

My daughter doesn't miss me in the same way. She is so, so busy over there, working and coming home, and doing more work, and caring for the children and her husband. She does not have the time to dwell on things as I do. I thought when she went to America she would become fat and happy and be pampered like a queen, but that is not the way things are. They are richer in America, it is true, but she is working more than she would if she had stayed here. There is no one to cook their dinner or clean their house. She says only the wealthy can afford that. The wealthy! Having a big house and two motorcars is not wealthy enough? I can hardly believe it, though she tells me that is true.

The last time I saw her, 3 years now, she was so thin, cheeks hollowed out and with bony wrists, carrying Ravi on her hip and Roopa tugging at her salwar kameez. I had gone with Vinod for a visit at Diwali time, right before the winter, and we stayed until the spring. I did not like the drabness of that place: the lifeless trees, the pale sky, the ice that fell from it. It looked like death, smelled like death to me. But I was happy to be with her. I cooked for her, bathed the children, made myself useful. By the time we left, Laxmi too had regained some of the color in her face (had I mentioned that she, too, seemed lifeless?) and I hoped she would stay that way. I would like to have stayed, but Vinod missed the farm. It is his life. And his life is my life, so I too left.

The children had grown attached to me by then and they, too, cried, just as their mother and I did. I had them promise me that they would come visit. They said they would. I made sure to say this in front of Chirag because I know that it more up to him than it is up to any of them.

And now, finally the time had come. In a few weeks only, she was going to come, her husband and children with her, traveling over 20 hours by plane, 5 hours by train, and a half hour by motorcar to our home. I have spent days and days--no--months and months--dreaming about this.

I prepared the house weeks ago. I bought more bedding and mosquito netting. I borrowed toys from my nephew's children that my grandchildren could play with. I asked my sisters to loan me their largest pots so that we would not run out of hot water when it was time for everyone's baths. I told Gaurav, the boy that comes to help us twice a week, that he will need to bring fresh chickens for us, as Chirag likes to eat meat. I told all the people in the village that they were coming. And, I have been sewing for the last few weeks, making the little shirt for Ravi and the little dress for Roopa. And today, just when I picked up the dress to finish the hem of the sleeves, only a few stitches from the end, the post came. And, just as I had hoped, it was a letter from America. I opened it impatiently, like a child, and read it without taking a single breath. Did they want to know what to bring me? What to bring Vinod? What kind of clothes to bring for the weather here? If I could buy foods from the city the children would like?

But there was none of that in the two pages that were written. Just one important thing: that they were not coming after all, but hopefully soon, "only a few more months, Ma, because things are too busy with the children's school and Chirag's work". And though my daughter may not have realized, those were the same words she wrote a year ago, when the monsoon rains were just coming to an end, and here I was again, putting the letter on the table where Vinod kept his paper and glasses so that he may read it when he came home.

The blue dress I also put away, in the trunk in the upstairs loft, along with the other, frayed one that Laxmi wore as a girl.

I knew there was no use in mailing it. By the time it was warm enough there for Roopa to wear it, she will have grown out of it.

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-22T00:30:00.001-05:00

I just love Anne Taintor's art--the iconic 50's images, the snarky sense of humor, and the slight bitchiness--it always brings a smile to my face. So, of course, I couldn't resist altering this one to better suit my needs. (The original said 'Jewish' instead of 'Hindu'...) I just love it because it's so true: it's very hard to resist the magic of Christmas, even if you're not Christian. So, I don't even bother trying!

Instead, I'll be busy the next few days doing last minute Christmas shopping (why am I NEVER done on time???), frantically wrapping presents, baking (and probably burning) cookies, staying up late on Christmas Eve watching It's a Wonderful Life for the ten millionth time and crying buckets and buckets of grateful and happy tears, drinking Santa's chocolate milk and eating his cookies, then acting surprised on XMas morning, then actually being surprised that the kids are actually surprised, then opening presents and enjoying the kids' toys a little TOO much, staying in pajamas all day and refusing to shower much to the dismay of anyone who sees me, making the kids and You-Know-Who snuggle with me, singing and dancing very, very badly, butchering 'Jingle Bells' and 'Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer' on the piano, watching A Christmas Story for the ten millionth time and laughing excessively and inappropriately, flagrantly using unnecessary adverbs like 'excessively' and 'inappropriately', reading on the couch while wearing my Snuggie, eating shameful amounts of desserts, and being very, very lazy--so lazy, in fact, that I will get annoyed when I realize that Christmas is a day like any other day in which you actually have to do stuff like cook and wash dishes and eventually bathe. (Bah Humbug...)

Ah...it's going to be just WONDERFUL!

Merry Christmas!

Gentlemen, My Apologies

2009-12-20T21:31:00.008-05:00

"We've begun to raise daughters more like sons... but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters. " --Gloria Steinem

Recently, I resigned from my job. I won't go into all the gory details, but all I'll say is this: it was a difficult decision to make, but I think the right one to make, even though I am currently without a job.

Anyway, the reason I bring this up is that I have learned something very interesting in the past week since I've started telling people about my decision. When I first started telling people, I was expecting people to say "Oh my God, what are you going to do NOW?" I was expecting more shock and alarm than I actually got. Maybe that is partly because I'm not really acting shocked and alarmed and freaking out myself about it, but I think there is a little more to it than that. Many people have said to me, "Great! Now you can relax and stay home for a while." and "Why rush into anything?" and "Take your time." and "Enjoy your time off."

Now, these are all wonderful things to say. (I swear, I'm not complaining!) I am so grateful to have friends and family that are so supportive and encouraging and make my unemployment seem almost like an extended vacation. They are being very reassuring, confident that I'll be fine without a job. And they know I'll be fine without a job because I have a husband who is employed and able to support us.

But, thinking about this then lead me to realize that partly why no one is overly concerned is because I'm a woman. Imagine instead I was an unemployed man. What if instead of having a husband who is able to pick up the slack while I'm unemployed, it was a wife?

I just can't help but thinking that if a man had just quit his job and was unemployed, he would not have it as easy as I am having it. People would not be telling him, "Great! Take some time off and relax!" Men being employed is a societal expectation, and unemployment sometimes a source of shame and humiliation. Their wives having to "pick up the slack" would be seen as something terrible and embarrassing.

How unfair to men! It is so much pressure on a man to be constantly and continually well-employed. To be without a job is to be seen of as less than a man. Silently, society regards him as a failure. People will frequently question when he's planning on getting back to work, what he's doing to find work, and make him feel uncomfortable. Isn't it unfair that a man in the same situation would never be told to just take it easy and spend some time with the family? (At least not by most people...)

(This brings to mind the particular pain that must accompany being a stay-at-home dad...a topic for another day...)

Anyway, this little event in my life has opened my eyes a little bit. Before, I used to think that women are the only victims of sex inequality. In actuality, there are 2 victims: the woman who is never allowed to achieve her full potential AND the man who is never allowed to fall short of his. If we want society to acknowledge that women can be as strong as men, we also need to acknowledge than men, at times, can need help. And, we need to make it so that it isn't a source of shame or embarrassment. Isn't it all of our fates to sometimes succeed and to sometimes fail? Why is it something to be embarrassed about? In my opinion, the real embarrassment is that some of us are not allowed to show that we have weaknesses.

So anyway, I've decided the next time a male friend of mine is unemployed (and has a spouse that is able to support him) I'm going to make sure and say, "Great...I hope you relax and enjoy the time off with your family."

The Problem With Having Curious Kids

2009-12-15T22:20:00.009-05:00

First of all, I'd like to say that it is mostly wonderful to have kids that are really curious and smart. They always surprise me with the things they say and the questions they ask. I just LOVE how they are these cutely packaged little people that you can have so many interesting conversations with who make you notice things you've seen a million times before in a new and exciting way. That is definitely amazing.

I do, however, have one complaint about having curious kids: sometimes they are incredibly EMBARRASSING!

For the past year and a half, I've been taking them every week, once a week, to piano lessons. They are really becoming incredible little pianists. (Thank you for letting me indulge in a little motherly showing off there...)

Anyway, since it's a long drive, I make sure to get there a little early so they can go to the bathroom beforehand and so they don't have to excuse themselves right in the middle of class. Since my son is only 5, I make him go into the ladies' room with us.

While in there, of course, they have noticed the (ahem) special dispenser in there with feminine hygiene products. They noticed, of course, that it had a picture of a coin and 25 cents written on it, which they perhaps associate with another more rewarding dispenser, you know, the kind you see in supermarkets with candy and tattoos and toys and stuff. So, naturally, they asked me what was in there.

Now, I normally pride myself on being pretty honest with the kids. I like to tell them the facts. Well, as much as I think they can handle. For instance, when they asked me in the past where babies come from, I have told them that they grow in their mommies' bellies. When they then asked if they were in my belly, I said yes. And then when they asked me if I had to have surgery to get them out of my belly, I answered no. And, much to their horror and amusement, I did actually tell them where they came out of. (Did I mention they know the real anatomic names, too?) Anyway, that information seemed to squelch all further questions for the time being.

So, when they asked me about what came out of the dispenser, I tried to keep it simple. I didn't think they could actually handle the cold, hard truth yet, so I answered more vaguely than I normally like to.

"It's something for ladies. It's not anything fun. Don't worry about it."

They persisted, their curiosity peaked. I repeated the refrain, also adding that "you'll find out when you're bigger."

That is definitely the WRONG thing to say to kids, because they want to be bigger RIGHT NOW and they think they can handle whatever it is that you think needs to wait until they're "bigger", so of course, they only went into overdrive with their fascination with the dispenser.

So every week for the past year and a half, they have asked me to put a quarter in the stupid machine and get out the "ladies thing" because they wanted to check it out. And every week, I say the same old thing: "No. It's not for kids. It's for ladies. It's not anything fun. Stop asking me! You'll find out when you're bigger. Cut it out!!!" and other variations of that over and over and OVER AGAIN. (Did I mention they are persistent little buggers?)

In fact, one time last year, I actually caught the two of them hatching a little evil plan which involved smuggling a quarter into the car before piano lessons so that they could insert it and get the boring prize to check out for themselves. Luckily, I thwarted their plan and their quarter stayed in the car.

Well, until today, that is.

Today, the little devious rascals smuggled a quarter in and were smart enough not to talk about it in front of me and while I was distracted in the bathroom, they actually put the quarter in, turned the dial (did I mention they also got a little taller and are now able to reach the handle?) and got a pad out of the damn machine!

I thought I would flip my lid when I saw what they were up to, but instead, I couldn't stop laughing. (Then I took that picture with my phone.) How could I get upset? They had been masterminding this thing for the past year and here they had finally succeeded in getting their stupid and very disappointing prize. It was pretty ingenious and also tragically sad.

I showed them the box that came out, told them it was a "pad" for ladies only, not children, showed them how dull and boring it was, put it in my purse, and told them it sucked that they were out of a quarter. (Muahahaha...)

I don't think they'll be putting in any more quarters in there...although...

As we were leaving, my son did ask, "What's a tampon?"

(Did I mention they can also read now?)

Sigh.

The Evolution of a Believer

2009-12-14T21:45:00.002-05:00

An interesting coversation with my daughter this past week:

M: Mom, how many planets are there?

Me: Nine, if you count Pluto.

M: Some people say that Pluto isn't a planet.

Me: Yes. So if you don't count Pluto, eight.

A short pause, then:

M: Mom, when was the Earth invented?

Me: Earth was created billions and billions of years ago. Created, not invented.

Another pause, then:

M: What about people?

Me: What about people?

M: When were they created?

Suddenly I feel a wave of nausea, realizing I'm about to say something that is going to be different than what some of her friends will be hearing.

Me: Well. (Another pause.) Um. First there were tiny, tiny organisms and after a long, long, LONG time, they became animals, and after another long, long, LONG time, some of the animals, the apes--the monkeys--became people.

(You'll have to excuse the ape-like explanation, but she's only 6 and I was trying to keep it simple.)

M: The monkeys!?

More nausea.

Me: Yes. The monkeys. We're distantly related to monkeys.

My daughter was grinning ear to ear now and hopping around like a monkey.

I need to stop here and just let you know that even though I believe in evolution, I also believe in God, and don't feel like they are mutually exclusive ideas.

Interestingly, this conversation with my daughter brought back a conversation I had with my mother when I was a teenager. (At the time, I was a very opinionated, Republican (yes, shocking!), debate team champ.) I have no idea what we were arguing about, but I do remember she was throwing God and his/her vengeance at me for some reason or other, and I said (obviously trying to get a rise out of her), "God! There is no God!"

(Kids, if you are looking for a way to get your parents' attention, this is probably exactly what you should say.)

Then, to add insult to injury, I continued, in a more mocking tone, and probably with an obnoxious smirk on my face, "Do you actually think there is a Monkey God or an Elephant God, Mom?"

She was speechless. (And my mother is never speechless!) I think it was probably the most horrible thing I had ever said in my life (up until that point, of course, because I think I have since outdone myself). I'm sure she thought that I was going to forever suffer an endless cycle of rebirth for all the evil that spewed out of my mouth.

Well, since then, I think I've mellowed out a lot more and accept my religion (and other religions) in a much more open-minded way. To me, religions are allegory, not necessarily to be taken literally, but about trying to make sense of unfathomable things in a way that our small human minds can understand.

Anyway, I was reminded about my conversation with my mother because I am now waiting for my perceptive little 6 year old to ask me who created living things and the earth and the planets and the universe and I'm going to say the only answer I know: God made it.

For now, she accepts God as this nebulous and all powerful being. (In fact, recently I heard her saying to her brother, "Thank goodness that God made nighttime or we'd have to listen to you all the time!") But pretty soon, I'm sure, she'll have her own doubts, and like my mother, I cringe at the thought of her saying, "God! There is no God!"

While it may very well be true that there isn't a God, I think there is something to be said for choosing to believe versus choosing not to believe. There is a fine line that distinguishes the "believers" from the "non-believers" and I dare say that that fine line is what separates the hopeful from the hopeless, the optimists from the pessimists, the dreamers from the realists.

No one knows for sure if there is or there isn't, right? So why not say there is and make the world a less scary place to be?

Be Like a Child

2009-12-05T20:52:00.006-05:00

Yesterday, I was the 'Mystery Reader' in my son's kindergarten class. I snuck in to the classroom at 2:40 in the afternoon when the teacher was having her group meeting with them, and when a few of them noticed me, they cried out, "D--! D--! It's your mom! She's the Mystery Reader!" You should have seen my son's face. I wish I could have captured that look forever. It was amazing: shock, awe, and happiness all in one.

Needless to say, I felt like some kind of superstar walking in there. They were so excited to have little old me, D's mom, come in to read for them. It would be as if you or I met Stephen King for the first time or something. Really.

I was a little bit nervous--there were at least 20 of them in there, with their big, round eyes and eager faces, anxiously gazing at me to entertain, amuse, impress them, maybe make them laugh. I know they're only kids, but I really, really like kids and I want them to really, really like me, so that's where the nervousness came from. They really matter to me, maybe more than adults matter to me, because I kind of see them as a litmus test for humanity, like the way some people think of dogs. You know, if they like you, you must be a decent person.

I brought in a small pile of books since I am notoriously indecisive and couldn't just narrow it down myself. So, I let my son pick out the ones he wanted me to read to his class. I think he was very proud to have the honor. He picked Frederick, Caps for Sale, and Where the Wild Things Are.

I have never in my life experienced what I experienced in there. They were in AWE. They were staring at me with rapt attention, getting excited at times, saying the words along with me at times, acting out stuff, getting so roused and rowdy that the teacher had to shush them a couple of times, laughing and giggling like I was the best thing since sliced bread! And when I was done with one book, they would start chanting "more, more, MORE!" And when it was time for me to go, they all groaned "Noooo!" like it was the worst news they had ever heard in their entire lives. I have never in my life had this reaction on anybody but my own kids. It was priceless.

Yes, I do realize that kids are easy to impress. Yes, they would probably have reacted that same way even if my reading sucked. Yes, they would probably never boo at me or throw tomatoes at me. But still, it was a wonderful feeling. It made me wonder why I never thought of becoming a teacher because in my current job (and I imagine in a lot of other people's jobs), no amount of bending over backwards, hard work, toil, suffering, struggle, or sacrifice, will ever produce this much appreciation and positive feedback.

Teachers are so blessed and lucky! They get to hang out with all these incredibly cool, funny, joyous, and supportive people all day. I know they have their bad moments, too, but do their bad moments ever get as bad as big people's bad moments? I highly doubt it.

Anyway, I've decided after yesterday that I want to be more like children. The older I get, the more juvenile (in a good way) I'd like to be. I'd like to be happy as much as possible, optimistic, innocent, enthusiastic, eager, never tired, excited to meet people, do new things, learn new things, and most of all, be generous and kind like all those wonderful little children in my son's class.

How funny that I go into his class to teach them something new, but instead I'm the one that comes out learning something instead!

There's Always Tomorrow

2009-12-01T21:06:00.007-05:00

My husband put the Christmas tree up over the weekend and when I came back from work yesterday, I put on a CD of children's Christmas music called "Rudolph, Frosty, and Friends Favorite Christmas Songs" and the kids and I decorated the tree together (and also danced like fools together--my favorite part!) The CD has the usual songs: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Jingle Bells, Frosty the Snowman...you get the drift. But, it also has some other nice songs which I only half-listen to.

Anyway, today, I caught my son singing one of those songs (in a high falsetto, no less, imitating the voice on the CD) and couldn't believe I hadn't noticed the song before because it was just so sweet. The line he kept singing was this: "There's al-ways tomorr-ow for dreams to come trueeeee..." My daughter and I were enchanted by it and all evening on the drive home from piano class tonight and during the bath and during books and at bedtime, we kept singing that one line, exaggerating it and singing it in an operatic way. We sounded like a bunch of wailing cats, for sure. But it was so much fun!

They're in bed now and I'm still thinking about it. What I really wanted to log on and tell you about was my book. You know the one: The Novel That I've Always Dreamed of Writing that for the past year was The Novel That I'm Supposedly Writing. Well, finally--FINALLY--I can tell you that I've actually completed it and it has now become--brace yourself--Perhaps the Shittiest First Draft Novel Ever Written in the History of the English Language! (Don't worry, I'm smiling while I write this.) Now, while the title sounds a bit depressing, I can assure you that I am over the moon (did you notice how beautiful, luminous and full it is tonight?) with joy over the whole thing. This is something I have been saying I want to do for over 20 YEARS. And I have somehow miraculously been able to do it.

Mostly, I have NaNoWriMo to thank. Up until it started, I had only written about 27, 000 words in a year's time--a few chapters--and I was waiting for some kind of divine inspiration to come and possess me so I could finish the rest. Then, NaNoWriMo came along (thank you to my friend Isabel and my brother Jay for telling me about it!!!) and it was exactly what I needed: a one month deadline to get it done. And yesterday, the end of the contest, was when I wrote my final (and cathartic) scene. I logged in at over 57, 000 words for the month of November, and over 84, 000 words (or 294 pages) total for my novel.

PTSFDNEWHEL is pretty awful right now. It has all kinds of atrocities against the English language: run on sentences, misspellings, bad vocabulary, bad sentence structure, cliches galore, silly dialogue, stereotypical characterization, and plenty of phrases that just make you wince. (I've read enough to know what bad writing is and boy, is there some bad writing in there!) But, regardless, it is a complete story--with a beginning, a middle, and an end--and amazingly, I did it before the end of 2009, which was my goal at the beginning of the year.

(Who knew that a self-inflicted deadline could be so motivating?)

Anyway, even though it may be pretty awful right now, I am still hopeful about it. It never even existed before and now it does. And someday, it may just become A Tolerable Second Draft Novel, and then maybe it'll become A Half-Decent Third Draft, and maybe after a few more drafts, maybe, just maybe, it'll become A (Lucid and Impressive) Debut Novel. But, even if doesn't ever see the light of day, it has been a pure joy for me.

For me, writing itself is one of life's simple joys--like my kids' singing, a beautiful painting, reading a great book, or seeing that moon in the sky tonight. I will keep on doing it if all I ever make are shitty first drafts for the rest of my life!

But, the dreamer that I am, I just can't help but think that "there's al-ways tomorr-ow for dreams to come trueeee..."

This Blog is on Sabbatical

2009-10-31T22:15:00.000-04:00

Well guys, I hope you have a nice month of November...I'm taking the month of November off from blogging to stare at a whole lot of blank pages!!! Yes, this is exciting stuff...

As you know, I recently discovered that November is National Novel Writing Month, a time when crazy people around the world join forces and let their laundry and dishes pile up and try to write an entire 50, 000 word novel in 30 days! And, crazy fool that I am, I'll be one of them!

Obviously, this is going to be HARD. I think the hardest thing for me is trying to find the time to sit down and write 1667 words a day! There is no way I can even write every day, which means I'm going to have to write even more than 1667 words a day on some days...

In order to achieve this extreme goal, I've decided to give up all of the following for November: pointless emailing, Facebooking, random phone conversations, random texting, blogging (sorry, guys!), excercise (woo hoo!!!), TV (unless I've achieved my daily 1667 word goal), going out to dinner or the movies (ha...that one makes me laugh because I can't remember the last time I did that anyway...), and shopping, online or otherwise. The only exception will be Twitter, since I plan on updating my progress on there (check the right hand column for my updates if you want to see how I'm doing...) Also, I've decided to keep mothering for the month. Seems like the right thing to do. :)

I know that to many of you this sounds like a really stupid idea--and very masochistic--but you know what? It's only one month. I like challenging myself and I'm not afraid of embarrassment, so why not, right?

Anyway, wish me luck! And, if you are a masochistic aspiring writer like me, feel free to join me and add me to your buddy list on the NaNoWriMo website! (My ID is ktheblogger.) Good luck to all the NaNoWriMo's out there, especially my buddies: T., Tamara, Fatscribe, Margo, my friend, A., and my sister, S.--I hope all of you are NaNoWriMo winners!

Remember to visit my last post here for tips and tools to help with the competition.

Thanks and see you in December...:)

WTF!

2009-10-30T08:00:00.008-04:00

(Alice does NOT look like she's going to a tea party if you ask me.)

For this inaugural episode of WTF!, I'd just like to share with you my one annoyance about an otherwise very fun holiday...Halloween.

Why, why, are all the Halloween costumes for women so SLUTTY?

WTF!

I just don't understand it! I mean, I am certainly not one to judge. Nor am I a prude. I think women should wear, do, and think whatever they want! Being girly and all, I am certainly all about being as glamorous as one can humanly be. I love the frills, makeup, heels, and all things super-girly! On occasion, I think it's perfectly normal for women to want to vamp it up and be a little sexy...

But, please, for the love of God, can we have some more options??? Especially if we just want to go trick or treating with our kids and not go, say, turning tricks? I would just like something fun to wear to greet the toddlers that might come by ringing our doorbell for candy or to attend our town's Halloween parade.

What are all of us suburban moms supposed to do this Halloween? I certainly can't answer the door to the sweet, innocent neighborhood children donning this:

( Do you have to be Snow White's wicked step-mother to find a decent costume??? I mean, really!)

The last couple of years I've managed to get by by just creating my own costumes using the stuff I already had.

Here is the recipe for one of my great costumes: bohemian skirt + bohemian top + gold flats + head scarf+ all the costume jewelry I own = Gypsy.

And, no, it didn't look like this:

(You have GOT to be kidding me...!)

Here's another great costume that I wore last year: ruffled white shirt + black crop pants + boots + cheap iParty accessories = Pirate.

This pirate, on the other hand, makes you want to say, "ARRGHH!":

Anyway, you'll be happy to know that after wading through a whole bunch of nearly pornographic Halloween websites, I was finally able to find something cool yet appropriate for Halloween this year. Check it out:

I will NOT be frightening the little neighborhood children...What a relief!

Happy Halloween!

Becoming a Writer

2009-10-29T10:33:00.005-04:00

Those of you interested in writing must read this amazing article in Oprah magazine. It was written by Junot Diaz, the author of The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao...I promise, it's well worth it--very inspirational!!!

Gearing up for NaNoWriMo

2009-10-28T10:30:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I was reminded that there are actually some people out there who read this blog on a regular basis and who wonder why I haven't posted anything in many days. (I know...shocking!) Believe it or not, some people really look forward to my posts...

My neighbor Winnie has her inlaws over this week and I ran into her very charming mother-in-law at the bus stop yesterday (and actually today, too). She happens to be a big fan of this blog (no joke!), going so far as to recommend it to some of her friends, and even wondering why I haven't written in quite a few days.

Isn't that so sweet??? I'm really flattered that she checks in here to see what I'm up to. (Even Winnie doesn't check in that often, unless of course I write about her...don't worry, W., I still love ya!) So, I would just like to offer my heartfelt thanks to wonderful Millie for reading my blog...you really made my day!

Anyway, my apologies for abandoning all of you wonderful readers for such a long while. I have been so preoccupied with my upcoming National Novel Writing Month event that I really can't seem to concentrate on blogging for you. (In order to participate, I will also have to shut down this blog for November...my apologies...but I'll be back with lots to tell!)

As you may recall, NaNoWriMo is a contest that challenges participants to write a 50, 000 word novel in a month and starts this weekend (Nov. 1st). I'm so excited! I have pretty much been trying to prepare for the event ever since I signed up last week. And, I've also managed to draft 4 other friends to do it with me so I'll have some buddies to help motivate me throughout the month. I really hope I can do it!

The way I see it, even if I don't crank out 50,000 words, whatever I do write will be more than I have now, so it'll still be worth something. (Unless, of course, all of the writing I produce is total CRAP, in which case I will have just wasted a month of my life!!! Let's try not to think about that, though.)

Anyway, the planner that I am, I've been scouring the internet for tips and tools I could use for NaNoWriMo and I've decided to post them here so I can have a spot that I can go to for reference throughout the event. Plus, maybe it'll help some of my NaNoWriMo buddies out there.

Check it out:

Tips for Winning NaNoWriMo

Tips from Veterans

How to Plot a Novel on Index Cards

The Single Most Powerful Writing Tool You'll See on One Page

Character Questionnaires

Word Counter

Online Stopwatch

The Thirty Six (Plus One) Dramatic Situations

Write or Die

Save Yourself From Writer's Block

Affirmations for Writers

Inspirational Quotes for Writers

More Inspirational Quotes for Writers

Oh, and of course, the NaNoWriMo website has lots of tools and inspiration!

That's what I have so far, but if I find more indispensable stuff, I'll definitely add it to this list, so check back soon! Oh, and try not to procrastinate for 2 hours looking at all the cool stuff I posted above...:) Get to work--that novel isn't going to write itself!

Inner Life

2009-10-21T08:00:00.002-04:00

Automat, 1927, Edward Hopper

The following is a guest post written by blogger Elizabeth Bradley. You may find more of her terrific writing at Elizabeth Bradley Fiction--Bits & Bytes. Enjoy...

"Great art is the outward expression of an inner life in the artist, and this inner life will result in his personal vision of the world. No amount of skillful invention can replace the essential element of imagination." – Edward Hopper

INNER LIFE
By Elizabeth Bradley

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint, we are all the center of our own universe. We can’t help it. Maybe Sister Theresa felt differently, but most of us aren’t of her ilk.

While engaging in artistic activity, whether drawing, writing, knitting, glassblowing, painting, sculpting, quilting, throwing pottery, sewing, gardening, scrap booking, designing, what have you; we make a conscious decision to elevate ourselves. We become creators.

Creativity is intricately tied to our inner lives, and what we choose to create is our means of expressing our unique individual gift to the outside world. It’s up to us to hone our skills, to bring them up to the level where we are capable of clearly presenting what we have to say, to de-muddy the waters, and clarify that which needs to be articulated through our distinct art.

Beware—seeking to reach the highest level of your personal creativity will present a lifelong struggle. You will be required to fight off insecurities. Persevere. The task is to bring your vision to life because you don’t have any other choice. You are creative, you have something to say, you are compelled to share that interior dialogue with others, and you are qualified because you are the only one that can tell your particular story.

Attention, Aspiring Novelists!

2009-10-19T20:00:00.000-04:00

One of my bloggy friends just told me that November is "National Novel Writing Month". Apparently, there is an entire organization of (possibly crazy) people who commit themselves to writing an ENTIRE NOVEL in the month of November! Anyway, you know me--I'm just that type of crazy person--I am actually thinking about shutting down the blog for November and trying it out! But before I do that, I thought I'd give you guys the opportunity to check it out and maybe consider doing it too! Here's an official press release I found on the "NaNoWriMo" page:

NATIONAL NOVEL WRITING MONTH:
THE LARGEST WRITING CONTEST IN THE WORLD!

No Judges. No Prizes. Winning Manuscripts Deleted. Appeal Remains a Mystery.

Oakland, Calif. --- http://www.nanowrimo.org/ --- August, 2009 --- There are some who say writing a novel takes awesome talent, strong language skills, academic training, and years of dedication.

Not true. All it really takes is a deadline – a very, very tight deadline – and a whole lot of coffee.
Welcome to National Novel Writing Month: a nonprofit literary crusade that encourages aspiring novelists all over the world to write a 50,000-word novel in a month. At midnight on Nov. 1, 150,000 writers from over 90 countries – poised over laptops and pads of paper, fingers itching and minds racing with plots and characters – will begin a furious adventure in fiction. By 11:59 PM on Nov. 30, tens of thousands of them will be novelists.

NaNoWriMo is the largest writing contest in the world. In 2008, over 120,000 people took part in the free challenge. And while the event stresses fun and creative exploration over publication, more than 30 NaNoWriMo novelists have had their NaNo-novels published, including Sarah Gruen, whose New York Times #1 Best Seller, Water for Elephants began as a NaNoWriMo novel.

Around 18% of NaNoWriMo participants "win" every year by writing 50,000 words and validating their novels on the organization's website before midnight on Nov 30. Winners receive no prizes, and no one at NaNoWriMo ever reads the manuscripts submitted.

So if not for fame or fortune, why do people do it?

"The 50,000-word challenge has a wonderful way of opening up your imagination and unleashing creative potential like nothing else," says NaNoWriMo Founder and Program Director (and ten-time NaNoWriMo winner) Chris Baty. "When you write for quantity instead of quality, you end up getting both. Also, it's a great excuse for not doing any dishes for a month."

If you would like more information about National Novel Writing Month, or would like to talk to participants from NaNoWriMo chapters in your area, please visit our website at http://www.nanowrimo.org/, or contact press@nanowrimo.org.

Well, I hope all you aspiring writers go and check it out. As they say, "nothing ventured, nothing gained"! Please do let me know if you decide to sign up. It would be great to have some NaNoWriMo buddies!

Beautiful India

2009-10-18T19:34:00.012-04:00

(photo courtesy Flickr)

Sometimes I get very nostalgic when I think about India (like yesterday, Diwali). I haven't been back since I was a teenager, over 20 years now. I'm not sure when I will go back, though I have it in my head that at some point I must take my (genetically Indian, but otherwise American) children there. I am not even sure what we would do there. We have no close family there to speak of any longer and our trip there would be no different than any tourist's trip, save for maybe knowing a few people here and there of my parents' generation.

While there, I also know that we will be a novelty: an Indian family that looks and sounds unlike other Indian families there. We will be treated as foreigners, bargained with and duped like foreigners, laughed at, admired, and marveled at like foreigners.

Oh, but some strange part of me longs for India, in a way that I know my children won't, in a way that even my parents cannot relate to. They grew up there and miss some parts of India, certainly, but they came here to leave the other parts behind. I don't know and can't relate to what they wanted to leave behind. I cannot fathom or imagine it.

But in my mind, instead, I see all the other things we've lost, the things that slowly, slowly I lose every year, and am losing with the next generation, and will be lost in generations in the future. Sometimes I feel like I am foolishly clinging to the last threads of my culture while the entire world is trying to move ahead. The slow erosion of my culture is a painful thing to watch. I imagine in generations ahead of this that we will be wholly American and not at all Indian, except for maybe having some part of us (a great, great grandparent maybe?) to have been Indian. And while I am so proud to call myself an American, some part of me also mourns the Indian that is slowly perishing to become the American.

It is a myth to think you can retain your own culture while living here and becoming an American. For the first generation or two, yes, but after that, slowly, your native culture is diluted and the culture that takes its place is very different than the culture that exists in the native land.

As an example, Native American Indians are not like Native American Indians of the past. Italian Americans are not like Italians from Italy. The Irish, the German, the French, the Chinese, the African are not at all like the natives from those respective lands, unless they just arrived. After a while, they all cling to small tokens of their culture, but not the entire essence of the culture.

I see it happening already. I have learned as much as my parents could teach me (which is less than they know) and I will teach my children as much as I can teach them (which is less than I know) and they will teach their children as much as they can teach them (which will be less than they know), and so on and so forth, until almost all is lost.

I do, however, take comfort in knowing that Indian culture, unlike some other cultures that have met a sadder fate, will go on in the world somewhere. Our language will still be spoken, our foods still cooked, our native dress still worn, our dances will still be danced, our religion and philosophy still read and understood. It will not become extinct. And it will be there for seekers, Indian or not.

And maybe, just maybe, one of those seekers will be my great, great, great granddaughter or grandson someday...

How wonderful that would be...

Happy Diwali!

2009-10-17T08:00:00.003-04:00

Happy Diwali and Sal Mubarak (Happy New Year), friends!!!

I'm wishing you all good health, happiness, and prosperity today and always...:)

(To learn more about Diwali, our "Festival of Lights", and the Hindu New Year, please visit this wonderful article on beliefnet.com. And, please check out this recipe from my friend Nieli if you'd like to make some yummy sweets to share with the people you love. Have a wonderful holiday weekend!)

Just Some Bloggy News

2009-10-15T09:16:00.006-04:00

Just spreading some news from a fellow blogger today:

You are cordially invited to attend an "open house" beginning Wednesday, October 14, in honor of the newly renovated Rose &Thorn Journal: http://www.roseandthornjournal.com

Drop by, sign up for the newsletter, check out the new digs (and blog!), follow us on Twitter and Facebook, leave us your comments/thoughts, and wish us well!

Rose &Thorn is a quarterly literary journal featuring the voices of emerging and established authors, poets and artists.

Now...go enjoy the open bar and appetizer spread!

Angie Ledbetter &Kathryn Magendie
Co-Editor/Publishers
Rose & Thorn Journal

A Day in the Life...

2009-10-14T08:00:00.006-04:00

Today's post is a guest post by blogger, foodie and photographer Lisa Johnson, AKA "Anali". Enjoy...

Hello everyone! My name is Lisa aka “Anali” and I usually blog over at Anali’s First Amendment. I was thrilled when K. asked me to write a guest post here and I readily accepted.

Over at my blog, I’ve been writing about my recent trip to San Francisco to attend BlogHer Food ’09, a conference for food bloggers. There’s so much to cover, that I’m writing it in bits and pieces. I figured that I’d share some of my trip over here and show you some pictures.

The day after the conference was a free day, so I met up with a couple of friends. I used to work with M in Boston, but she moved back to San Francisco. We’ve stayed in touch, so this was a great opportunity to catch up with her. Back in Boston, we had the best time when we decided at the last minute to go see Prince in concert. I’ll never forget that show! Prince was incredible!

We also met up with Josephine, a fellow blogger that I know from her wonderful design blog Red Thread. It was my first time meeting her in person and we got along just as well as I had hoped. We all met in my hotel lobby, where I had just checked out. I had too much conference swag and offered half to the two of them to divide and take home.

I had luggage and my remaining swag bag, which Josephine was nice enough to put in her car. When we got outside, I realized just how hot it was. In the 80’s! I had on a jean jacket, a long-sleeved T-shirt, a skirt, and tall leather boots. Cute, yet way too warm!

Watching weather reports in San Francisco was rather confusing and I had not judged it correctly. Since we were going to be walking around for several hours, I really needed to change into some lighter clothing. So again, Josephine was nice enough to let me change clothes in her car, which was parked in a garage. I had packed a short-sleeved top and some canvas shoes that I was able to quickly slip into. A rather unusual request for a first meeting, but what are ya gonna do?

Then we were off to grab something to eat. Josephine suggested Samovar Tea Lounge, which was just a quick walk away. What a perfect choice! If you’re in San Francisco, definitely visit one of their locations. We went to the one in Yerba Buena Gardens. The décor is filled with such beautiful textures, colors, fabrics and small wonderful details that add such ambience and pleasure to the meal. I love this place!

I truly enjoyed my tea service and the quiche. Plus the company couldn’t be beat. My friend M is pregnant and ready to have a baby boy within a few days. I was so happy that she ventured out to spend some time with us even though she’s been rather uncomfortable. After our meal, she had to go home. We said our good-byes and Josephine and I continued with our day.

I hope you stop by my blog and read more about the rest of my trip! Thanks for reading along!

Thank you so much, Lisa, for the short trip to San Francisco. I hope you all enjoyed "a day in the life" of a very interesting and fun blogger...

The K Book Club Winner is...

2009-10-13T20:30:00.001-04:00

Elizabeth Bradley at Elizabeth Bradley Fiction--Bits and Bytes !

Congrats!!! Please drop me an email and I'll have Karma out to you...

Also, thanks to those of you who left comments and better luck next time!

How to Be a Domestic Goddess

2009-10-12T21:18:00.005-04:00

(Art by Anne Taintor)

Being a stay-at-home mom is HARD WORK. I know this because even though I do work out of the home, my work time is confined to the weekends, so I have the opportunity to act like a stay-at-home mom during the weekdays.

So, I can attest to how difficult the job is. It's an unending, exhausting, monotonous cycle of cleaning, cooking, feeding, laundering, chaffeuring, tutoring (just to name a few things), day in and day out.

Also, did I mention that it's thankless? Yes, your only reward is the satisfaction that you get from doing so much. No one pats your back at the end of the day, there's no end of the year bonus or cost of living increase, not even a Christmas ham or anything. Nope. In fact, you are more likely to hear COMPLAINING and WHINING. How's that for thanks?

Plus, stay at home moms are often mistakenly depicted as being lazy, bon-bon eating shrews, especially in shows like "The Real Housewives of..." How unfair!

Yes, stay-at-home moms are under-rated and taken for granted and not appreciated as they deserve to be. But, that said, I can also attest to the fact that it is incredibly rewarding to see the happiness and growth in your children when you're running the home well. (That is definitely better than getting a Christmas ham!)

I've been working this schedule (work on weekends/stay at home during the week) for almost 3 years now, and I can finally say that I've figured out how to do all the stuff I HAVE TO DO with a lot of the stuff I WANT TO DO without sacrificing sleep or my sanity. Many of my friends are impressed with all the stuff I can accomplish in a given week. I am by no means unique--there are plenty of domestic goddesses out there amongst you (maybe you are one?) but I just know that knowledge of how to do it came after a long while, so I thought I'd help out some of you who may just be starting out--fledgling goddesses, if you will--by giving you some of my secrets. Here goes:

1. Be goal oriented.

Every year, when I get my new planner refill (that happens in September for me), the first thing I do is make a list of my goals for the year. My top priorities are obviously my kids and work, and then I also add in my personal goals, like staying fit and pursuing my writing. Make sure to look at your goals regularly.

2. Be passionate.

It's important to have a vision of what you want to achieve in the future based on your goals. This way, when you are struggling to get the kids to do their homework or struggling to get your butt on the treadmill, you have a big picture idea of what it will help you achieve. For example, getting the kids to do their homework is linked in my mind directly to the vision of seeing them as responsible, intelligent, and considerate adults someday. And, getting on the treadmill is directly linked to my vision of being one fabulously fit granny someday. You can pretty much extrapolate anything you're cringing about doing on a daily basis into a long term "vision" and it makes it a much more powerful motivator.

3. Be organized.

Being the Type A personality that I am, I cannot live without my day planner. (If it's not in my planner, it's not happening!) In addition to that, I recently made a week-view "Master Schedule" that goes on our fridge. It helps me remember that my daughter has Gym on Wednesdays and needs to wear sneakers that day and that my son has Library on Mondays and needs to return the book he took out then. I also schedule in (in detail) exactly when I plan on doing groceries, laundry, cook, help with homework or piano practice, read books, give baths, etc. Once all the "HAVE TO DO" stuff is scheduled on there, I schedule in my "WANT TO DO" stuff, like work outs and my writing. If it's on the schedule, it gets done. I leave the weekends empty since I go to work then.

Doing things in a scheduled manner makes stuff get done in an efficient manner and you end up having more free time to do the things you "WANT TO DO". If it's scheduled and done, you will no longer find yourself having to throw in a load of laundry after dinner because you forgot to do it earlier in the week and are scrambling to have clean socks to wear! Instead, you'll be relaxing with that book you've been meaning to read, hanging out with the kids, or catching up on sleep...Being organized is an easy way of giving yourself MORE FREE TIME! Try it and you'll see...I promise!

4. Consider giving up or cutting down on TV.

I know this sounds a little radical, but if you are having trouble finding time to work towards the goals you made in #1, this is the first place to look to find more time. The TV wastes a lot of time that you could be using to achieve your dreams! These days, the only show I watch regularly is The Office. The rest of the week I watch only sporadically. I can't say I miss it much.

5. Enlist your Second-in-Command, if you have a Second-in-Command. (Oh, and just remember not to call him the "Second-in-Command" to his face...hehe)

In case you haven't gathered from this list, I'm basically telling you to run your household like a Fortune 500 Company, in which you are the CEO, your significant other is your right hand man (or woman), and your kids are like your top clients, whose best interest you are looking out for. (Sometimes this means telling them things they don't want to hear!) You need to make your mission statement (goals), be passionate, be organized, work hard and long hours (maybe give up some TV time), and finally, delegate some responsibility to your top and trusted aide. (I know you could do it better, but sometimes you need to be a team player, too...if you must, leave lots of sticky notes so he/she can't easily drop the ball...)

Anyway, I hope this strategy helps some of you out there do all the things you HAVE TO DO but also do a lot of the things you WANT TO DO! Try it for a week and I guarantee you will feel fabulous about all that you've accomplished!!!

Sketchy Sketches

2009-10-11T23:00:00.007-04:00

Looking at all my kids' artwork gave me the urge to do some sketching today. I used to draw and paint a lot when I was younger, especially in high school and college.

The last time I tried to draw anything seriously was over 10 years ago in medical school and the subject matter was skulls and bodies in Gross Anatomy. (No wonder I gave it up after that!) I have an old notebook full of pictures laying around somewhere...

It's been a long time since I picked up the pencil seriously and, I have to admit, it was really fun trying again today! My daughter is 6 and actually sat still for a few minutes so I could try and capture her. My son, on the other hand, did not sit for even a minute, so the fact that I was able to draw anything that even remotely looks like him is amazing to me. No, neither of the pictures looks very much like them, but they're not bad for an amateur, I think...

Fine Art Friday

2009-10-09T13:12:00.006-04:00

Check out these mind-blowing works of staggering genius:

Flowers by M., my 6 year old daughter

Bumblebee and Butterfly by D., my 5 year old son

Self portrait by M.

Self-portrait by D.

I Love Turtles! by M.

Jack o' Lantern by D.

Mommy and Me by M.

Daddy by D.

Tinkerbell by M.

I Love Mom by D.
(my gosh, look at my gorgeous hair! LOL)

Our House by M.

I've been meaning to upload some of my kids' drawings for a while and I finally did it--another reason to be thankful for the blog!!! Hope you enjoyed looking at their little masterpieces...

Have a wonderful weekend!

The K Book Club (with an Interview and AUTOGRAPHED Book Giveaway!)

2009-10-06T21:00:00.006-04:00

Recently, I went to an Ethnic Writers' Workshop and had the good fortune to meet a number of very talented, up and coming writers. I got the opportunity to speak to them in person, and even got an autographed copy of their books. And, smart gal that I am, I also got them all to agree to do interviews for my blog!

The first one up is Rishi Reddi, whose wonderful book, Karma and Other Stories, is a collection of short stories about Indian Americans and their struggles with balancing their Eastern culture and background with their Western lives.

The book includes 7 short stories with characters that many will find familiar and be able to identify with. The Validity of Love and Devadasi, both about young women who struggle between traditional expectations and their own modern way of thinking, stand out as stories that most young Indian women growing up in America can relate to. And, Lord Krishna, a story about a boy that is singled out in his high school because of his distinctly different name and culture, will also be familiar to many of us.

I think the stories that I found the most surprising and touching, however, were actually the ones about older characters, characters similar to many of our parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents. Rarely do we step out of ourselves and imagine how hard life must be for them, adjusting to a new culture and trying to find a way to reconcile the differences. Justice Shiva Ram Murthy and Bangles have elderly characters, while Lakshmi and the Librarian and Karma have middle-aged characters.

I think my favorite stories were probably Justice Shiva Ram Murthy, which was about an ornery, old retired judge who is struggling to maintain his former dignity in the face of declining health and having to adjust to living in America, where he is not as respected as in his native land, and also Karma, which is about a man who decides to move to the United States to live with his very successful younger brother but finds himself kicked out and having to make a start on his own when he doesn't meet his brother's expectations. All the stories were moving in their own way, and very enjoyable to read.

Rishi is very busy, as you can imagine, but was nice enough to take a few minutes to answer a few (writing related) questions for me. Check it out:

1. Why do you write?

I write because I want to answer some questions for myself--I think I'm basically writing to the 20 year old woman that I was, explaining life, as I understand it, to her.

2. How did you get the idea for your book?

There were certain circumstances that I wanted to explore--each of them became the main plot event for a story in the book.

3. What is the writing process like for you?

It always seems like painful work in the beginning, then once the early drafts are done, it's far more fun.

4. Do you plot out your story or just see where your characters go?

I usually have a combination of both in mind: an interesting character and a main climactic event that I want to have happen.

5. Tell us a little about your next project.

It's about the early South Asian immigrants who came to California in the 1910s and 1920s and settled down as farmers in the Imperial Valley.

For more information about Rishi Reddi and her debut novel, please check out her website http://rishireddi.net. Thanks again, Rishi, for doing this interview!

Finally, as usual, I'm giving away my gently used copy...This time, it also happens to be AUTOGRAPHED! Here's what you have to do to get a chance to win it:

1. follow this blog, and

2. leave a comment on this post on Blogger.

Also, if you link to this post from elsewhere (Facebook, Twitter, your own blog, etc.) you may have additional entries...one for every medium you use. Just let me know what you did in the comments section. Spreading the word will also help out a talented, new writer who happens to also be a VERY nice person! Thanks...

An Out of This World Story

2009-10-05T09:50:00.001-04:00

Story Musgrave working on the Hubble Space Telescope
Endeavor Space Shuttle Mission, 1993

Wow, the craziest things happen to me!
So, over the weekend, I decided to catch up on the news online. I started reading about David Letterman and his strange extortion case on one of the news websites. In the story that I was reading, they mentioned that he was once stalked by a woman named Margaret Mary Kay. They went on to say that once she got out of prison for stalking Letterman, she then also stalked an astronaut named Story Musgrave (before eventually killing herself).

Well, I had never heard of an astronaut named Story Musgrave and thought he had a cool name, so of course, curious creature that I am, I had to go and Wiki him. I read the most fascinating bio there! Turns out his name is Franklin Story Musgrave (F. Story Musgrave) and in addition to being a NASA astronaut, he also happens to be a doctor and has degrees in math, statistics, computer programming, chemistry, biophysics, and English literature. Did I mention that he is also into photography and writing poetry? Of course, I got distracted from the David Letterman story and ended up clicking on the links at the end of the Wikipedia entry and visited his very cool website, storymusgrave.com.

Somewhere along the way, I found out that he sometimes has appearances at Kennedy Space Center and since we're planning a trip to Disney next year, I thought, wouldn't it be cool if we got to meet a real astronaut? Anyway, on the website, right on the home page, is listed some contact information including a mailing address, email, and a phone number. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm the type of person that if, say, I am seated at a table next to a table where a former NASA astronaut is having dinner at a restaurant, I will just HAVE stop over to talk to him or her and, of course, ask for an autograph.

(Aside: I told one of my friends this and she said she would never do that. So then I asked her, "Well what if Tom Brady was at the table next to yours?" Not surprisingly, she then said, "Well, that's different. Then of course I would have to stop and meet him!" Can you believe that? And my response to her was, well, "This man's gone to SPACE, for God's sake! That has got to be more impressive than being an NFL player..." C'mon people! How many people do you know that have seen the Earth from OUTER SPACE? Sheesh...nothing seems to impress people these days!)

So, of course, when I saw the phone number on the website, I just had to call. I mean, wouldn't you? It's there for calling, after all. I figured it probably led to an answering machine or some PR person or something anyway. So this is how the conversation goes:

The man who answered the phone: Hello.
Me: Hi, I was just visiting Dr. Musgrave's website and thought I'd call to find out what his speaking schedule is.
The man: Have we met before?
Me (confused, maybe I didn't hear right...): What?
The man: Have we met before?
Me: Uh...uh...who is this?
The man: Story.
Me: What...? Uh...Dr. Musgrave? Oh, I thought this was...uh...this is your actual number?
The man, who is actually Story Musgrave: Yes...this is a real person.
Me: Well, I just thought...you know...um...that you'd have a representative...
Story Musgrave: No, it's me.

(At this point, I wanted to ask if he didn't think that perhaps he shouldn't list his number on the internet after that unfortunate incident with the stalker-lady, but then I decided against it, thinking he would think I was another stalker-lady!!! And then I started thinking, oh my God, what if I am a crazy stalker lady? I mean, who just picks up the phone and calls a former astronaut?!)

Me: Oh...well...um...Dr. Musgrave, I was reading your bio today online and I am so impressed with all of your accomplishments. I saw that you sometimes saw the public at the Kennedy Space Center and thought it would be fun for my kids to meet a real astronaut.

Then at this point, he starts asking me who I am, what I do, where did I go to school. Turns out he used to train in residency with one of my attendings in medical school (it's a small world!) and he's actually going to be in our area in March doing a speaking engagement! He told me to email him and he'd send me along the information when it was more definite. How nice is that? Anyway, I thanked him and finally let him hang up.

So, that's my crazy story of how I ended up speaking to a former NASA astronaut who went into space 6 times and worked on the Hubble Space Telescope! And to think it was all because I read some news about David Letterman and his extortion case! Out of this world, huh?

Fine Art Friday

2009-10-02T08:00:00.003-04:00

Nude with Striped Bedspread, Suzanne Valadon

The following is a guest post written by my friend, T., who is an anesthesiologist, wife, mother, oboe student, and francophile...She is also an active (and very interesting) blogger! You can find more of her writing on her main blog, Notes of an Anesthesioboist, and also on her latest blog venture, Sundays in Paris, where she entertains her passion for all things French! Enjoy...

When I was in high school French was one of my favorite classes. I was interested in French language, culture, history, art - in particular, the works of French impressionists and post-Impressionists. I loved Sisley's snow scenes, Monet's cityscapes, van Gogh's starry nights, Pissarro's boulevards, Renoir's dances, and Utrillo's views of Montmartre, Paris's famous bohemian neighborhood. It was Utrillo's paintings of the Sacré-Coeur that made me fall in love with Paris from afar. What I didn't know was how instrumental Utrillo's mother was in the inception and flourishing of his artistic career - and what an important artist she was in her own right.

Marie-Clémentine Valadon was born on September 23, 1865 in Limoges to an unwed, 34-year-old laundry woman named Madeleine. Marie-Clémentine was basically a Paris street kid, supporting herself with odd jobs as a waitress, nanny, dressmaking apprentice, and circus acrobat before a fall from a trapeze ended her circus career in 1881.

She became a model for such illustrious artists as Toulouse-Lautrec, Renoir, and Puvis de Chavannes and had affairs with at least the latter two. She once claimed Renoir was "all brushes and no heart." It was Toulouse-Lautrec, supposedly, who encouraged her to take the name "Suzanne," in reference to the story of Susanna in the Hebrew Bible, because she spent her time modeling for older men. She was the model for Puvis de Chavannes' The Sacred Wood Dear to the Arts and Muses, Toulouse-Lautrec's Equestrienne (At the Cirque Fernando), and Renoir's famous paintings Dance at Bougival, Dance in the City, Umbrellas, and Girl Braiding Her Hair.

Suzanne Valadon gave birth to her son Maurice in 1883 and to her death was mysterious about the identity of his father. Renoir and Puvis de Chavannes were candidates, as was an amateur painter named Boissy, whom she met at the famous Chat Noir café. Maurice's last name, Utrillo, comes from Suzanne's friend Miguel Utrillo, a Spanish art critic who ran the Auberge du Clou, a Montmartre tavern frequented by artists. Maurice Utrillo's widow has made a case for Puvis de Chavannes being Utrillo's father.

Suzanne Valadon observed the techniques of the artists for whom she modeled and began to paint. Edgar Degas was among her earliest supporters and mentors; by her death she had established herself as a significant figure in the Paris art scene, and her funeral was attended by Picasso, Derain, and Braque. In 1894 she became the first woman painter to be admitted to the Societé Nationale des Beaux Arts.

Her work is characterized by a bold color palette and a departure from convention especially with regard to the postures and attitudes of the women in her paintings. After a long line of passive female nudes, from Titian's Venus of Urbino to Manet's Olympia and the completely objectified depiction of female nudity in Courbet's l'Origine du Monde, here at last were nudes who were doing something - women comfortable in their own skin, unapologetic, unidealized, valid just as they were, thin or heavy, toned or flabby, young or old.

Suzanne Valadon wanted to leave behind "a bit of her soul" in the colors of her paintings. One might argue that she succeeded in leaving us part of herself not only through her work but also through the work of her troubled son, Maurice Utrillo. She was his only art teacher, and she encouraged him to paint as a way of combatting the demons of alcoholism and mental illness that plagued him throughout his life.

Her own life was not without turbulence. She had a six-month affair with composer Erik Satie (of whom she painted a striking portrait), then two marriages - one to stockbroker Paul Moussis, whom she left after fifteen years for her second husband, artist André Utter, 21 years her junior and the model for Adam in her painting Adam and Eve. She died on April 7, 1938 after a life lived on her own terms, both personally and artistically. We who can still enjoy her work today are the richer for it.

For more information on Suzanne Valadon, please visit T.'s original post here. I hope you all enjoyed today's guest post! Have a wonderful weekend...

Echo and Narcissus

2009-09-29T22:40:00.012-04:00

Echo and Narcissus, John William Waterhouse

Yesterday's self-absorption reminded me of a poem I wrote a long time ago, sometime in my twenties (unfortunately, I didn't date it so I have no idea exactly when). Anyway, I just tweaked the ending a little bit today...I think it sounds better now...

My Narcissus
cares for you caring for him,
and sees his reflection in your eyes
as evidence of his beauty,
of his fragile vanity--
it quivers in the ripples of your affection,
asking for your obsession
to be like his own.
And your love is a pretty ornament
worn haughtily,
so carelessly.
He will cry when it is lost,
like a pebble dropped in water,
saddened that his countenance--
so flawless, perfect--
has to also shatter.

Makeup For Dummies

2009-09-28T21:51:00.002-04:00

I love MAC!

I think my posts have been a bit on the heavy side lately, so I've decided to talk today about one of my more superficial loves: makeup!

I have pretty much been addicted to makeup ever since I walked in with eyeliner on for the first time in the 8th grade and Eddie Zuniga looked at me like he'd never seen me before and said, "You look so different..." LOL...

I also love makeup because it is, like clothing, a wonderful and fun way to be creative and express yourself on a daily basis. How do you feel today? Strong and confident? Feminine and girly? Sultry and mysterious?

Now while I do realize that I'm no Gisele Bundchen or beauty expert, I do think most women my age have figured out a thing or two about beauty. In my case, I learned those things the HARD WAY. Boy, have I had a LOT of beauty disasters!

First, there was the time I hated my thick eyebrows in high school and decided that I would just tweeze them off into non-existence. Scary. Then, there was the time I decided to perm my already very curly hair and ended up with doubly frizzy hair. Oh, and then there were the years when I wore the wrong shade of makeup and looked a ghastly shade of grey. That coincided with my red lipstick phase, which is not necessarily a bad thing on its own, but which in combination with the pale makeup gave me the unfortunate look of the un-dead. I guess that one wasn't really my fault since makeup for brown people didn't really evolve until really the last decade. But, that still doesn't explain the nearly black lipstick phase or the Tammy Faye mascara phase, which soon followed. Yes, that was all me.

Anyway, it's been through (a lot of) trial and error that I've finally figured what to do in the makeup department. (I have definitely been a makeup "dummy" in the past!) I'm so good at it now that I've even had the distinct privilege of doing one of my sisters' makeup on her wedding day. I also did a bang up job at my own wedding...I know it was good because I still like my pictures from that day, 10 years ago now.

People sometimes compliment me on my makeup and ask me for tips. (I'm not kidding!) So, I thought I'd write this post and just give a few pointers about makeup that I've learned over the years. These are things that took me FOREVER to figure out. Maybe they'll save you the effort and maybe even prevent an embarrassing makeup "don't"...

1. Take care of your skin. See a dermatologist, wear sunscreen all the time, don't go to sleep without washing your face, drink water (I'm so bad with this!) and moisturize. The better your skin, the less makeup you need and the less "fake" you'll look.

2. Don't overtweeze! Get rid of the unibrow and make an arch by plucking a few hairs under the highest part of your brows, but otherwise, leave them alone! If you have hardly any brows, just slightly darken them with a brow pencil. Don't paint in thick brows!

3. Get your face makeup exactly matched to your skin by an expert. MAC is great and I'm sure there are other great brands.

4. Moisturize with an SPF lotion before putting on makeup. I like Anthelios SPF 15, available at CVS.

5. Use face makeup (concealer/foundation) ONLY where you need it. I read this in a magazine somewhere and have been doing this ever since. Most people don't need makeup everywhere and by applying it only where you need it, like say, under your eyes or in problem places, makes you look more natural and less caked on. This way, most of your real skin shows through and you can look more "glowy" and natural, instead of powdery. Finish with a light dusting of face powder. Skip the powder if you are older and have dry skin. I like looking shiny--it makes you look younger!

6. Apply blush to the apples of your cheeks (the roundest part) if you have a long face, or under the apples with an upward sweep if you have a round face.

7. Eye shadow is complicated and probably deserves a post of it's own someday. For the purpose of this post, I'm just going to say that you should find a neutral shade with a little shimmer and just sweep it over the entire lid. Line your upper eyelid from inner to outer corner with any color eyeliner and apply a coat of mascara. There are all kinds of things you can do to add more drama which I won't go into today.

8. Lip makeup also probably deserves a post of it's own someday. Always make sure your lips are moisturized. There is nothing worse than dry, cracked lips. And, for everyday, I think a pink/peach lip gloss with shimmer is best. You don't need liner or a mirror to apply it, so it's pretty low maintenance.

9. As a final rule of thumb, if going dramatic in one area (like the eyes or the lips), stay pretty low key in the opposite. The only exception to this rule is if it's Halloween, or if you're performing at the VMA's.

OK, well that's all I can think of for right now. Stay tuned for Part 2 when we delve deeper into dramatic eye makeup...and Part 3 when we talk about bold lipstick...If anyone else has any great tips, please do share! We girly girls need to help each other out...

Fine Art Friday

2009-09-25T09:45:00.004-04:00

Painting by Katharine Bell

I'm doing something a little different today. For the first time in the (brief but glorious) history of FAF, I've decided to feature an actual, LIVING and breathing artist! I also happen to know her in real life and have had the great pleasure to see some of her work in person. It is so beautiful--colorful, lively, joyful, and fun!

I first met Katharine at a memoir writing class that I took a year ago. Once the class ended, quite a few of us wanted to continue to meet regularly to help inspire us to keep writing, so we started a little writers' group that meets about once a month. We all have different interests and projects we're working on and we bring little excerpts to the group to read aloud to each other. Over the past year, we have slowly gotten to know more and more about each other. I am so impressed by all the talent in our little group!

Over the past year, we've discovered that Katharine is quite an accomplished painter and children's book illustrator. She has been working on a children's book for the past year, a lively and humorous adventure with two clever kids named Harry and Lulu and their grandmother Sugar. Besides writing this fun story, we were pleasantly surprised to learn that she has also been painting illustrations for the story! The one on this post is only one of many that she brought in for us to look at at our last group meeting. I can't wait for her book to come out--it's going to be fun to read to the kids AND beautiful to look at.

Currently, Katharine's work is on display at the Groton Public Library in Groton, MA, along with the black and white photography of her brother Charlie Boynton. It is so interesting to see how the two of them capture the world so differently! While Katharine's work is so playful, her brother's work seems much more haunting. It's fascinating to see their different perspectives.

The exhibit will be running until November 21st and there will be an artists' reception on October 15th from 7-8:30 pm, which will be open to the public, including children. For more information, check out this page on the library's website. I hope you will visit if you can!

Have a wonderful weekend!

A Buddhist Love Poem

2009-09-25T09:00:00.000-04:00

Another poem from the archives, written about a year ago...

My love,
this life is fleeting.
The day is short
and not worth repeating.
Hold it in your hands
like a flower plucked—
beautiful,
but withering,
and dying.
Don't dwell on the bud
that once it was,
or worry about
its petals falling.
Let us enjoy
this perfect bloom,
this very moment
now.

Random Thought of the Day

2009-09-24T14:30:00.000-04:00

Our lives are as brief as a blink of the eye in the lifetime of the universe.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Walk On

2009-09-22T20:50:00.016-04:00

Fine Art Friday

2009-09-18T12:37:00.005-04:00

Blue Nude, Picasso

Well, guys, here's the painting I promised to show you last week. I have a huge copy of this hanging in my guest room right now. I originally bought it at IKEA 10 years ago for the amazing price of just $ 100 framed for my apartment in New York. At the time, it really spoke to me. I was struggling through residency and having a lot of self-doubt and wondering if I had chosen the right thing to do. (I guess you could call that my "blue period".)

I also imagined that someday if I actually made it through, it would look wonderful in my office. Alas, I don't have an office since I work as a hospitalist, but it looks beautiful in my guest room. Some of my friends and family have told me they'd love to take it off my hands if I ever get tired of it, but I haven't taken them up on it. Now, besides being a beautiful decoration for that room, it also represents a time in my life when I could have failed, but didn't. I struggled, but I made it through. I guess that's why I'm so sentimental about it.

During the years between 1900 and 1904, Picasso began painting somber portraits solely in shades of blue. He had said that the suicide of his good friend Carlos Casegemas, which occured in 1901, was what influenced him to paint in this manner. The themes in these paintings were also dark and he often pictured depressing subjects such as prostitutes and beggars. Though at the time these painting were not popular, they have become amongst his most popular works today.

Please visit last week's post for a brief bio about the artist. Thanks!

Meet My Avatar

2009-09-16T10:00:00.004-04:00

I hope my arms look like Ixchel's after a bit of yoga!

Something freaky happened to me last week. If I had a diary, I would definitely have to write about it, but since I don't, I decided to write about it here on my blog. This place is pretty much like a diary anyway.

I just started taking yoga classes at my neighbor Lisa's house. She is a certified yoga instructor at a nearby yoga center and recently announced that she was going to start teaching a class in the evenings every week out of her house. Since her house is literally around the corner and the class is at a time when my kids are going to bed anyway, I felt like I had to give it a try.

I've only taken a couple of classes (and actually, I'll be going again tonight!), but so far, I think the class is amazing! In addition to getting a great workout, I also feel like it will help my posture, balance, and flexibility, as well as maybe giving me an opportunity to practice some meditation. Also, it is so much better than a regular workout because I feel like I'm actually learning some new and interesting things. Lisa is a passionate yogi and a very knowledgeable instructor. She seems to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the various poses! I can't believe how many she's introduced us to already. I'm really impressed.

Anyway, let me tell you about the freaky thing now. At the end of last week's class, Lisa asked mysteriously, "Do you guys feel like playing a game?" I'm always up for surprises and fun games, so of course I said 'yes'. Then, she pulled out a thick deck of cards (they were called 'Goddess Guidance Oracle Cards' by a woman named Doreen Virtue, Ph. D.) and fanned them out in front of us. (Later, I found out there were about 44 cards in the deck.) Anyway, she asked us each to pick a card. The card you pick is supposed to give you a message and advice about where you are in your life at that time. I guess it's similar to reading a horoscope. Anyway, I picked a card and could not believe my eyes when I looked at it! It said "IXCHEL, Medicine Woman". How strange (and cool) is that?

Now, the scientist in me certainly thinks it was just random luck, but the spiritualist in me thinks the scientist is a know-it-all that doesn't really know it all, so I am constantly having an inner struggle over big ideas like God and even little ideas (like whether the oracle card I picked means anything). Obviously, I'm not going to solve that problem today or in this lifetime, but I have to admit the Hindu in me loves fortunes, Tarot cards, horoscopes, palm reading, ouija boards and the like, so I will continue to entertain that side of me even if it's meaningless.

I won't bore you with the entire reading from the card, but here are the highlights from it that I especially enjoyed:

"You are a healer."

"Honor your healing knowledge and abilities."

"Start or continue your healing practice."

"About Ixchel: Mayan moon goddess, who with her husband, the sun god, gave birth to all the other gods. As the embodiment of the moon, she is intimately connected with the tides and water. She is sometimes referred to as "Lady Rainbow" because water creates rainbow-like prisms. As a mother goddess, Ixchel helps with fertility and childbirth and is a powerful healer."

Shout Out

2009-09-15T20:29:00.010-04:00

Last evening I went to 'Big City' with a friend to attend an "Ethnic Writers' Workshop" that was being held at a non-profit creative writing center in our area. It was very inspiring to meet writers who are published in a genre that I hope to be published in someday!

Fortunately it was a small gathering, so I even got to speak for a few minutes to each of the 3 authors who attended when they did the book signings and I managed to get them to agree to do interviews for my blog! (I surprised myself when I had that great idea...) So, stay tuned...the K Book Club will be featuring some ethnic authors with real, live interviews in the upcoming weeks. As you know, I like to read at a rather leisurely pace, so forgive me if it takes me a while to get to all of them.

In the meantime, I thought I'd give them a shout-out, in case you were interested in checking out their work before I feature them here:

Rakesh Satyal, author of Blue Boy

Rishi Reddi, author of Karma and Other Stories

Ru Freeman, author of A Disobedient Girl

They all look like amazing books--I'm having trouble deciding which one to start with!
If you have a free moment, I hope you all check out these talented writers--just click on their names above for a link to their websites...

Have a great night!

Fine Art Friday

2009-09-11T13:08:00.005-04:00

Children Writing, Pablo Picasso

Unfortunately, this is the highest resolution picture of this painting I could find, so my apologies for it being so puny compared to some of my other fine art selections. I thought this was a good one to feature since it's September and all the kids are back in school. (Even if you don't read this entire post, make sure to scroll to the end to read an inspirational quote from Picasso about children--you won't regret it!)

I have loved this painting for a long time and I have always meant to buy a print of it to hang somewhere in my house, but never did because I've managed to fill up every spare wall in the place. One of these days I'll find a home for it and buy it. I love this painting so much for the obvious reasons: I'm a mom of a boy and a girl who loves to do just what the mom (or teacher?) in the painting is doing--hover over them and teach them things. It's like he painted this painting for ME! Also, I absolutely love Picasso. If I had to pick a favorite artist, it would probably be him. I love his Cubist and Blue periods especially. (I think next week I'll show you the Blue Nude that I have hanging in my guest room.)

Pablo Picasso (1881-1973) was born in Malaga, Spain to Don Jose Ruiz y Blasco and Maria Picasso y Lopez. His father worked as a professor of art at a regional school and as a curator of a local museum.

Early on, Picasso showed a talent for art and began taking formal instruction from his father at the age of seven. By the age of 13, his father felt that he had surpassed him in artistic ability. By that time the family had moved to Barcelona and Picasso's father managed to convince officials at the School of Fine Arts (where he worked) to allow him to take the entrance exam for the advanced class.

At the age of 16, his father sent him to the Madrid Royal Academy of San Fernando. He was very bad at taking formal instruction, and soon dropped out, but was influenced by many of the artists he was exposed to in Madrid.

In 1905, he gained the attention of the American art collectors Leo and Gertrude Stein, whose family began collecting his art. Through them, he met Henri Matisse, who became a lifelong friend (well, these days we would call him a "frenemy", because they were rivals as well). Picasso began splitting his time between Barcelona and Paris around this time.

Picasso's personal life was tumultuous. In 1918, he married a ballerina named Olga Khokhlova and soon after they had a son named Paulo. Apparently, this was a disastrous marriage because Khokhlova was very refined and Pablo had "bohemian" tendencies that caused them to clash all the time. They ended up separating after Picasso began an affair with a 17 year old named Marie Therese Walter. (He stayed married to Khokhlova until her death in 1955 so he wouldn't have to give her half of his assets!)

He continued with the affair and eventually fathered a daughter, Maia, with his mistress. She eventually hung herself 4 years after Picasso's death, after a life lived hoping that someday Picasso would marry her. Instead, he carried on numerous affairs and fathered 4 children with 3 different women! One famous companion was Dora Maar, who is sometimes pictured in his work.

In 1944, Picasso began seeing a young student named Francoise Gilot. They eventually had 2 children together, Claude and Paloma. Unlike Picasso's other loves, she seems to have been the only one to stand up for herself and eventually left him in 1953 because of his infidelity. He was crushed at the time, but eventually met and married a woman named Jacqueline Roque in 1961, who he remained with until his death in 1973.

Despite the difficulties in his personal life, Picasso achieved enormous fame and success in his professional life. He was a prolific painter and sculptor (it is estimated that he made around 50, 000 pieces of art!) and his art is often categorized into various "periods" based on the style of the work. These include: the Blue Period, the Rose Period, the African-influenced period, Classicism, Surrealism, and Cubism. He is probably best known for Cubism, which is a style of painting that he helped to develop.

He passed away while entertaining friends at his home with his wife. Sadly, his wife Jacqueline, also killed herself in 1986 by gunshot, devastated after the loss of her husband.

He leaves a large legacy of art that can be found at the Musee Picasso in Paris, the Museu Picasso in Barcelona, and the Museo Picasso Malaga in Malaga, Spain, among other places.

Here is an absolutely marvelous quote by the artist, that is especially fitting for the start of the school year and this painting:

"Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children."

Measuring Stuff is For Wusses

2009-09-09T20:37:00.009-04:00

Winnie's Penne with Chicken and Broccoli
(Rachel Ray would call this dish "delish", but Winnie would think that's stupid...)

Guys, I am SO DEPRESSED! Not depressed enough to kill myself or anything, but definitely feeling very blue. It's only been a week since the kids started school and not only do I feel lost wandering around aimlessly around the house without them, but thanks to all their after school activities, I've had to drop our weekly playdate/fiesta with Winnie and her kids. (As you may recall, the "playdate" served more as happy hour for Winnie and I than an actual honest-to-goodness playdate.) Since the weekdays are now filled up with piano, dance, and soccer, I no longer have any time to spare for the weekly wine-down, er...I mean wind-down, with Winnie. No more idle gossip, political debates, and bitching and moaning. Also, I have to say goodbye to Winnie's amazing gourmet-style cooking every other week (we took turns) and deal with my own mediocre mash-ups. (She was like Rachel Ray to my Oprah! The Mario Batali to my Gwyneth Paltrow! The Martha Stewart to my, uh, Martha Stewart!) And, I can no longer look forward to Wednesday evening mango margaritas or mixed berry sangrias or pomegranate martinis! OH, THE HORROR!!! (Makes you wonder if she worked her way through dental school as a bartender, though, huh...?)

Thankfully, she's taught me a few things in the kitchen, so I can still try to simulate a Winnie-esque dinner once in a while. One of my favorites is the Penne with Chicken and Broccoli pictured here. Believe it or not, she just sort of "invented" the recipe. She admits to being obsessed with watching cooking shows and says that she's just picked up how to make stuff that way. It is sort of aggravating to watch her cook because she just tosses stuff in without measuring, so you're left wondering what the hell just happened. The first time I made this, I must have called her fifty times asking stuff like "um, was that 4 or 5 garlic cloves?" or "how do I know the broccoli is cooked?" Of course, her answers were pretty mysterious. Like the fried rice recipe, she told me to just add enough or cook it long enough til it "looked right". Fortunately for you, dear reader, I finally have made this enough times that I've been able to break it down into ACTUAL MEASUREMENTS for those of us who are a tad more cowardly in the kitchen, and not brave enough to practice the mystic zen-like cooking Winnie practices. (Of course, now that I've broken it down, I've realized that you actually can't really mess up this recipe because even if you go up or down a little on one of the ingredients, it will probably taste good anyway...!)

I hope you enjoy it! It is so delish (as Rachel Ray would say) and the perfect one-dish meal for a chilly Sept night when you're looking for some comfort food. It is best served with a glass of white wine (try La Crema...another tip from Winnie...)

Winnie's Penne with Chicken and Broccoli

Ingredients:

1/2 stick unsalted butter
about 4 tablespoons olive oil
3/4 lb. chicken, cut into bite sized pieces
about 4-5 medium-large cloves garlic, crushed
1 small container of mushrooms, sliced
1/4 to 1/2 cup white wine
about 1 to 2 cups of broccoli florets
about 3 oz. of shredded parmesan cheese
1/2 teaspoon salt
freshly ground black pepper to taste (probably about 1/2 teaspoon)
1/2 cup chicken broth
12 oz. cooked penne pasta

Directions:

1. Melt about 1/4 stick of butter in a large pot with 2 tablespoons olive oil
2. Add garlic and cook for a few seconds. Don't let it brown.
3. Add chicken and cook until done--should be white and tender.
4. Set chicken aside.
5. Melt another 1/4 stick of butter with remaining olive oil.
6. Add mushrooms, broccoli, white wine, and chicken broth and simmer until fluid reduces by about half. Mushrooms and broccoli should be cooked and tender by that time.
7. Toss in pasta and chicken that you set aside from before.
8. Stir in salt, pepper, and parmesan cheese.

It tastes best if you let it sit and settle for a little bit before serving. Buon appetit!

This is DEAD Serious!

2009-09-09T09:29:00.003-04:00

Call me crazy, but I decided today that I wanted to put out a statement about my funeral wishes, so that all my loved ones know exactly what to do when I'm DEAD. Even though I've told You-Know-Who that I'd prefer to be cremated, I'm worried that he's still going to try and stick me in the ground somewhere. So, I've decided to write this public letter to all my friends and family so that everyone knows exactly what to do when the time comes.

Before I proceed, I just want to say that THIS IS NOT A SUICIDE NOTE!!! I am in no way depressed or suicidal and in fact, I have an overabundant zeal for life as evidenced on this blog. In fact, I am really, really hoping that no one will actually need to refer to this letter for a VERY long time. Hopefully, I'm one of those freaks of nature that gets interviewed for National Geographic or Good Morning America for being really freakin' old, maybe 112 or something...

(I can just see it now: They'll ask me what my secret to longevity is and I'll say something humorous like, "Well, I try to eat powdered donuts every chance I get", and then they'll laugh at what a cute, crazy little old lady I am...hehe. Yeah, that would be great fun...and then they would show me grinning toothlessly, my hunched little wrinkly body all over national TV...Sweeeeet!!!)

Anyway, delusional old-age fantasy aside, you guys should think about doing one of these too, lest your family members decide to do something crazy like cremate you and use your ashes to make a bead necklace or something. (That really happened to someone--I'm not kidding you!)

MY FUNERAL WISHES

My Dear Family and Friends,

Even in death, you cannot seem to shut me up! Haha...

But seriously, it is my wish to spare all of you as much anxiety and stress as I can by outlining for you in detail my funeral wishes. (Plus, as you know, I'm a control freak that likes to meticulously plan all the major events in my life, so why shouldn't I try to plan my own funeral too? It seems to make a lot of sense, actually!) Besides, I really think that carrying out my wishes will bring you a little peace and comfort at this time of INCREDIBLE and UNIMAGINABLE grief that you must feel after losing moi.

Here goes:

1. Please notify all my family and friends of my untimely passing. They will probably all want to do week-long tributes for me all over Facebook and the blogosphere, but please discourage them! You know me--I'm so modest and un-flashy and stuff...it would just be so embarrassing! Keep it simple and just Twitter it to only my thousand closest friends, OK? Oh, and obituaries in the Boston Globe and the New York Times would be nice too...

2. Donate all my useful organs to people who could use them. Please make sure they are not convicted murderers or registered sex offenders. I'd prefer if my corneas or kidneys are given to only upstanding individuals.

3. Please, please have a CLOSED casket ceremony. I just know that no one would be able to do my makeup as well as I could do it and I don't want anyone seeing my dead corpse all painted up like a carnival clown! (I hate clowns! They're so scary!!!) If they want to see me, show them a nice slideshow of me in better times, preferably from my twenties and looking smokin' hot...

4. I'd like a Hindu ceremony, but sans all the crying and carrying on. If possible, I'd like a Hindu ceremony conducted in the manner of an an Irish wake. (Is that possible???) You know...kind of like a party, with my friends and family recounting funny stories about me and a lot of laughter and reminiscing. Maybe you could even have an open bar! That would be awesome...

5. Please cremate my remains and scatter the ashes into the ocean, preferably a warm, tropical ocean. Maybe save my ashes til your next vacation before you toss me aboard. That's cool. If that's too creepy, then just toss me at your convenience into any ocean. That would be fine too. Just don't dump me in a lake or river or on a mountaintop. I want to be in the sea. But no matter what--please, please do not bury me in the ground uncremated. I know that you might be thinking that it would be nice to have a nice place to visit me, complete with a tombstone and friendly tombstoned neighbors with plastic flower bouquets, but that is definitely not my idea of how I want my body to spend eternity. I'd rather just be efficiently recycled into fish-food right away and get back into the life cycle that way. Besides, I do not consider the body or remains of a person to be "them" any longer anyway. So, please do not put any value on my remains and keep them nearby at a cemetery, or in an urn on your fireplace. (Ewww...) Instead, I hope you remember me with an old photo, or something I loved to wear, listen to, or read.

6. It would also be wonderful if you made a donation to a worthwhile charity in my memory. That--or you could open a wing at a major cancer hospital in my honor. Your choice. No pressure.

Thank you so much!

Eternally yours,

PS I know this sounds like a joke, but I am DEAD serious.

The K Book Club Winner is...

2009-09-09T09:25:00.000-04:00

rlbates at Suture for a Living !

Congrats! Thanks to everyone who left a comment and better luck next time...

Even Her Name Sounds Like a Poem

2009-09-06T00:47:00.005-04:00

I have no idea why, but Edna St. Vincent Millay popped into my head today. I'm surprised because I don't think I've read anything by her since high school. How strange, but wonderful, to have a random memory of a poet I loved as a young person. Here's a couple of favorite poems:

First Fig

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light.

Second Fig

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand;
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

--Edna St. Vincent Millay

School Bus to Destiny

2009-09-03T20:25:00.008-04:00

What is it about school buses that make all us moms so weepy?

My daughter boarded the school bus for the first time yesterday on her way to first grade. I held it together pretty well up until the bus started pulling away, at which point I felt like it was pulling my heart with it. I had to wipe a few tears away, and even now I'm feeling a little weepy. Maybe it's because tomorrow, the bus is not just taking my daughter away, but will also be taking my son, who's starting Kindergarten tomorrow.

It's not logical that I should be so emotional over this. My kids have been in preschool and my daughter in Kindergarten the past year, albeit part-time. They have not been joined at the hip (or at the umbilical cord) to me. I work long weekends away from home and they do fine without me. All this time, I thought when time came for them to board the bus it would be no big deal. And now, I'm so surprised at how choked up I am about it. Why, why, am I so upset by the stupid school bus?

I guess in a larger sense, the school bus is a metaphor for what happens to the parent-child relationship in life. As they get older, they grow more independent and little by little, they need you less. First they leave you on a school bus, and then they leave you for good! You can't stop it. It's inevitable. They have boarded that bus and they are off to follow their Destinies! And like all parents, we are more part of their past than part of their futures.

I was reminded of one of my favorite poems this week, thinking about all of this, and I thought I'd share it with you. It always makes me cry to read it, as I am reminded of my ultimate role in my children's lives. In a way, it is inspirational as well. I hope you enjoy it, too:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

--Kahlil Gibran

Wish me luck, friends...The bus is taking both my babies in the morning! :(

The K Book Club (with Book Giveaway!)

2009-09-01T21:15:00.003-04:00

Not long ago, I read an interesting book review in the Sunday Boston Globe about a book called Camus, A Romance written by Elizabeth Hawes. According to the book review, the book is a biography-memoir written by a writer who is infatuated with the deceased Albert Camus. Apparently, her passionate interest in him began in college while working on her thesis. I had never heard of Albert Camus before and thought it was really interesting that this woman had written a bio/love letter for him, so I decided to pick up one of his books to see what all the fuss was about. (Isn't it interesting that reading that book review made me want to pick up an Albert Camus book, but it did not make me want to pick up her tribute book? Hmm...)

So that is what made me pick up The Stranger the last time I was at the bookstore. Albert Camus was actually awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1957 for this book. It tells the story of an ordinary office clerk, Meursault, who, through an unfortunate series of events, unintentionally kills a man on an Algerian beach and subsequently has to go on trial for murder.

Camus points out in this book that life is sometimes absurd and senseless and that the only certain thing in life is death. What a powerful (if depressing) message...I thought it was a fascinating read, even though by the end of the book I was disturbed by the conclusion. I like to believe that my life (and others' lives) have a deeper meaning. Camus, however, argues the opposite, and rather convincingly, too. I think I'll definitely be haunted by this book for a while. In addition to making me wonder whether there is any point to life, it also made me question my beliefs about God, justice, and humanity.

I'm glad I picked up this book not just for the philosophical study, but I really enjoyed reading Camus' unique writing style. The novel is translated from the French, and is written in the first person in a very simple and direct style. These days, it seems most novelists are consumed with extraordinary amounts of description and more elaborate language, so it was refreshing to read something written so simply and factually. I guess partly this was due to the fact that the language reflects the main character's rather blunt and almost emotionless personality. For example, this is the first line in the book: "Maman died today." Yup, that's it. It was definitely a very interesting and unique way of telling a story. (And a good reminder that a good story does not necessarily have to have complicated writing.)

So, in summary, I highly recommend this novel. It is a very slim (only 123 pages!) and simply written novel, but deceptively so, because the ideas it contains are surprising and complex.

As always, I'll be giving away my gently used copy in a week's time...

Here are the rules again to be entered in the drawing:

1. follow my blog, and

2. leave a comment on this post on Blogger.

Also, if you link to this post from elsewhere (Twitter, Facebook, your own blog, etc.), you can have additional entries...one for every medium you use. Just let me know in this comments section what you did.

Good luck!

Words Like Swords

2009-08-30T23:42:00.004-04:00

Feeling brave enough to release an old poem tonight...hope you like it...

Your words like swords
find no flesh
to puncture here.
Awkward and weighty,
they try to pierce,
but like a butterfly,
I take flight.

Your words like swords--
their edges have rust
and lost their sheen.
Once they severed
and caused to bleed,
but like a stone,
still I stand.

Your words like swords,
blunted, weak--
never reach their mark.
They try to cut;
and try to wound,
but like an ocean,
I am whole.

The K Book Club Giveaway Winner is...

2009-08-26T20:59:00.002-04:00

Anjani from clandestination!

Congratulations...please email me your mailing address and I'll be sure to mail out your copy of How Fiction Works !

Thanks to those of you who entered and better luck next time...:)

K.

Eat at Your Own Risk!

2009-08-25T21:20:00.002-04:00

Patra
(curried, wrapped, and steamed taro leaves)

Every summer for the last few years my mom has been providing me with taro roots to plant so that I can grow the edible taro leaves (a staple in tropical cultures) and make "patra", a traditional Gujarati snack. I am unfortunately not the best gardener and often tell people that I have a "brown thumb", but because I like eating patra so much, I'm a little better with the care of these plants. My kids are also really good about watering the plants and often remind me.

Here's what they look like growing on my deck:

And here they are washed and ready for cooking:

While reading about taro leaves for this post, I was surprised to discover that in the raw, uncooked form, the taro leaf is TOXIC due to the high concentration of calcium oxalate (also present in rhubarb, which is another vegetable you should not eat in the raw). (Thank God for this blog or I would never have found that out!) Even a small dose of calcium oxalate can cause the following symptoms: intense burning and stinging in the mouth, swelling, and choking. At higher doses, one can experience severe stomach upset, breathing difficulties, and even convulsions, coma, and DEATH!!! My God, I had no idea!!! I have definitely experienced the tingling of the mouth at times when I undercooked this dish, and I have definitely heard people complain that patra makes their stomachs upset, but I had NO IDEA it could be DEADLY!

Anyway, I don't know how many of you will now try this recipe after THAT introduction (lol), but I assure you it is absolutely delicious and safe if cooked sufficiently. (It's kind of exciting eating foods that could kill you though, no? I guess this is the Gujarati version of the Japanese poisonous blowfish fugu...!) Once the leaves change color from bright green to more olive green, you know you have cooked it enough.

Here is what they look like BEFORE cooking (still bright green):

Here's the recipe for the adventurous among you:

Ingredients:

about 20 taro leaves, various sizes (available at Indian markets when in season; also, you may be able to buy the roots to plant at the beginning of summer and grow your own)
1 cup channa (gram besan) flour
1/2 cup roti (durum wheat) flour
3 tablespoons vegetable (not olive) oil
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon red chili pepper powder
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground coriander-cumin powder
3 teaspoons sugar
3 tablespoons yogurt
4-5 cloves garlic, crushed
1 jalapeno pepper, shredded
1/2 inch piece of ginger, shredded
water

Directions:

1. Wash taro leaves thoroughly.
2. Mix all other remaining ingredients together in a separate bowl.
3. Add enough water to make an easily spreadable paste. (It should have the consistency of whipped cake frosting.)
4. Lay a large taro leaf face down on a work surface and spread a layer of the flour paste on the leaf (like how you may spread peanut butter for a sandwich, but a little thinner...)
5. Lay a second leaf face down (usually smaller) half-way down on the second leaf and also spread batter onto that leaf.
6. Fold in the sides of the leaves to meet in the middle (like folding shirt sleeves) and spread paste on the newly exposed edges.
7. Starting at the bottom, roll the leaves up to the top to form a tight wrap. Use additional batter if necessary at the end in order to make it "stick".
8. Assemble remaining leaves in a similar fashion.
9. Steam all of the patra in a steamer-pot for about 20 minutes. Make sure the leaves have completely changed color to olive green and tender when pricked with a fork to assure you don't get poisoned!!! I would hate if someone DIED after making and eating one of my recipes!
10. Serve drizzled with additional vegetable oil.

(Note: These patra can also be sliced crosswise (into pinwheels) and pan fried in oil with mustard seeds and dusted with sugar. Maybe I'll post that someday...I prefer them like this though (unfried and drizzled with oil).

Safe eating! ;)

Writers, Get Published!

2009-08-24T11:45:00.003-04:00

The company Metaphorical Ink is collecting stories for an upcoming book and is looking for submissions. (My story "Wealthy" is going to be in it!) Please read the message below from Michele Glorie for more information:

My mother and I are collecting stories for a book titled "Harvest Baskets: Legends, Tales, and Truths About Women in Families Near and Far". It's a gathering of stories about women, and will include short reflections, humorous stories, poetry, copies of letters written generations ago, photos, and narratives of growing up with the influence of magnificent women.

Both women and men are invited to submit brief stories that sketch a moment, an event, a character from their life. Suggested story length is 250-500 words.

Anyone who's interested may contact me at mgp0506@gmail.com.

--Michele

Anyway, I hope you all consider taking advantage of this wonderful opportunity and consider submitting a story about an inspirational woman in your life! I think this is going to be a wonderful book...

RIP

2009-08-24T11:00:00.000-04:00

Sick of looking at the old header tonight so I'm retiring it to the 'gallery'...hope you like my new, vintage-inspired, shabby chic creation! I was in a girly mood today...

Fine Art Friday

2009-08-21T21:00:00.003-04:00

White Rose with Larkspur II, Georgia O'Keefe

This week I was thinking that I couldn't believe summer was already coming to an end. In about a week's time, the kids will be starting school. While I should be excited about that, I find the (quick) passage of time so sad...pretty soon, they'll be going to college instead of grammar school!

Anyway, the end of summer always makes me think that I'll miss all the flowers. And thinking of flowers always makes me think of Georgia O'Keefe, a famous painter of flowers. And, Georgia O'Keefe always makes me think of one of my college friends, M., because one of the things that I most remember about her is that she had a large reproduction poster of this painting in her freshman dorm room. I don't remember anything else in that room, but I remember that. Maybe because her personality seemed to match this painting: she was equally serene and beautiful.

That poster was the first time I had seen a Georgia O'Keefe, but after visiting the MFA in Boston (where she got the poster, I think), I got to see the painting in person. And now, I've gotten to see a lot more of O'Keefe's work over the years.

Georgia O'Keefe (1887-1986) was born near Sun Prairie, Wisconsin to Francis Calyxtus O'Keefe and Ida Totto O'Keefe, who were dairy farmers. (She was actually descended (on her mother's side) from Edward Fuller, one of the passengers of the Mayflower.) Early on, she exhibited a talent for art, and with her parents' encouragement, went on to enroll at the School of The Art Institute of Chicago in 1905.

Then, in 1907, she attended the Art Students League in New York City. In 1908, she actually won an award for one of her works from the school. Following school, she did a little bit of teaching at various institutions.

In 1916, some of her work was exhibited at the 291 Gallery in New York, owned by an art critic named Alfred Stieglitz. She and Stieglitz became good friends, and eventually fell in love. After he divorced his wife in 1924, he and O'Keefe married.

By the mid-1920's, O'Keefe began working in oil paints (orginally she worked in mostly watercolors) and started making her close-up paintings of natural objects, like flowers, shells, and bones). By this time, she had become very famous for her work and began earning large sums for her paintings.

In 1928, O'Keefe began traveling to the midwest to find inspiration for her work. She began splitting time every year between New Mexico and New York between 1929-1949. And, after her husband died in 1946, she settled in New Mexico permanently.

Her popularity continued to grow and she received a great deal of recognition for her work and had numerous exhibitions. In 1962, she was elected as a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters. Then, in 1977, she received the Presidential Medal of Freedom from Gerald Ford.

During the '70s, her eyesight began to fail, but she continued to paint throughout her life. She lived to a very old age (98!) and painted even then, just weeks before her death. Her ashes were scattered over Pedernal Mountain in New Mexico. Her home and studio in New Mexico is now a National Historic Landmark.

Here's a great quote from the artist: "No one sees a flower--really--it is so small, it takes time. We haven't time--and it takes time--like to have a friend takes time."