life: bk garden apt

novocain

2012-01-31T00:27:00.000-05:00

something is happening to me, i think. as sure as the weakness I feel in my body, the cold clamminess in my hand, and as real as the not feeling of numbness on the right side of my face has my eye feeling tired, my cheek numb with a feeling of Novocain--and all of it has me thoroughly spooked.

the numbness has been irregularly occurring over the last 8-10 months. it sometimes appears with a headache, or migraine, sometimes without. it lasts a few days then disappears into the ether.

it's hard to explain how it feels. it has varying degrees of 'texture': a rough numbness that comes from a dose of Novocain, as if my skin has been pulled taut--like how the surface of your skin feels after a Vitamin C enriched facial or I suppose if one had a face lift. my eyelid feels heavier, my face on that side warmer. it's unsettling to say the least.

after a stupid move searching my symptoms on the web, i am trying my best not to freak out...at least until i know something more than, well, nothing--which is what I know right now. at the advisement of my internist (update: blood test results show no unusual activity: kidneys and blood count ok; anemia ok; negative for lupus and lime disease; recommendation to add a multi-vitamin to my daily intake due to low presence of B-12, currently at 304) i have a preliminary appointment with a neurologist on the 7th.

until then i'll be taking it easy, and taking notes on how i feel, how it feels on the other side of my face.

break a leg but catch a star first

2012-01-24T01:36:00.001-05:00

24 hours from now I will have accomplished one of my new year's resolutions to sing in front of a live audience. A live willing audience, as opposed to say an inebriated karaoke-enamored one. It's an exciting idea to realize, and I am both filled with anticipation and anxiety; am thrilled yet hesitant. I find myself typing these words when I should be sleeping, and yet it is as if someone else were sharing this with you instead of me. I have that slightly disoriented, outside of myself feeling.

###

The idea was suggested on a weekend getaway with the girls. My co-worker and friend, Maryse planted the seed when she challenged me to participate in the annual talent show at our company's sales conference. Last year I had entertained the idea but couldn't quite work up the nerve. Maryse and Claire (who's birthday we were celebrating that weekend) were both encouraging and I promised to give it some serious thought.

A few days after our return from Beantown, the invitation to Accelerate 2012 arrived via email. As I sat down to fill out the submission form, I remembered the promise I made myself last summer and decided to commit to performing at AOL's Got Talent, a short four weeks away.

Twenty-eight days isn't a whole lot of time to prepare especially with Christmas and New Year obligations just around the corner. I gave myself an ambitious goal: find a vocal coach before the holidays. I had been collecting recommendations for a coach for awhile and reached out to 2-3 with high hopes. I wasn't certain what kind of options would present themselves, but then the universe delivered and within a few days I had a lesson scheduled with coach Matthew Deming.

The first lesson was on December 21st. The song I had chosen was a loftier goal, a piece I had seen performed at a recent charity benefit. Together we worked on the arrangement and Matt's expertise was invaluable as we determined the best key for me to sing the finished piece. I practiced in between our lessons using the Garage Band program on my Mac (and when I seriously have more time I need to plant myself at the Genius Bar and really learn how to use the program).

My last lesson was on Wednesday, January 18th. I brought my friend Aimee to play the part as an impartial audience. My voice had made significant improvements in 4 weeks, now I just had to work on my presence. An integral part of the performance (and any story we tell) is connecting with the audience, it was time for me to share my story through song.

(...to be continued...)

six steps

2012-01-23T00:59:00.001-05:00

Everything happens for a reason, even waking up with a start at midnight. It took me a minute to remember, actually 35 minutes to be exact. There are some memories you can't escape, they permeate your thoughts, and your feelings like a historical time stamp.

The room was still much like it is now. The television was turned to an old Lauren Bacall movie about a journey by train across the desert. The furniture was out of place, any thought of feng shui cast aside to make room for the hospital bed. It was positioned along the window so she could watch the falling snow. The television sat in between us, like a room divider with Dad and I sitting on the sofa, perhaps this is why I cannot imagine living in a one room studio.

It was a Monday night, the 22nd day of January, Mom was at home in hospice care and we were waiting. There is nothing else anyone can do at this stage in a terminal illness; not for the patient and not for their loved ones. Dad was resting, his eyes closed. It was my turn to check on Mom, to make sure she was comfortable, and administer a dose of morphine, if needed.

It took six steps to reach the bed from the sofa. A lifetime can unfold in six steps: the sound of her voice, the heartiness of her laugh, the bright smile that beamed from ear to ear, her hand reaching up to push a strand of hair away from her face, the strength of her hug filled with love--the unconditional love of a mother, wife, sister, aunt, best friend. In those six steps I felt the depth and breadth of my mother, Lucia Romano Preziotti and then she was gone. And with her a piece of my heart.

I will love you always and miss you forever Mom. :: Lucy Romano Preziotti (1928 - 2001).

###

tick tock goes the clock

2012-01-09T01:23:00.000-05:00

puzzling, this is the third time in a week I've had trouble sleeping. Many of my friends have battled insomnia and sleeping issues in the past but this is a first for me. I can't help but wonder why...last night I definitely got my fill of sleep (nearly 11 hours) but that shouldn't have affected this REM. I had a full day filled with of vocal lessons, driving, hauling litter, cleaning and even a bit of stress with Dad (he forgot to turn off the faucet and the sink overflowed and leaked through the floor and the ceiling into my bedroom, again).

Other than the full meal this afternoon, I've not had any sweets or sugary food minus the complimentary Sambuca served with lunch. Anise yes, but no caffeine. This evening I made fresh peppermint tea, an herbal remedy to settle my stomach, and nibbled on a few crackers but nothing beyond that. It's rather unsettling really, as I was tired just before washing my face and brushing my teeth. So what changed?

I may be reaching for straws but wonder if it could be a symptom of peri-menopause? I've had some weird sensations over the last 18 months or so, and every time I search the Web (a doctor's worst enemy) it seems there is almost always a mention/possibility that relates back to premature menopause. According to WebMD, the average age of onset for "natural" menopause in the U.S. is 51. I just turned 40 in October, so that seems unlikely though it doesn't explain the occasional hot flashes, change in body temperature, current bout of insomnia and occasional numbing of the face (though this is also a known side effect of migraines--which I unfortunately inherited from my mom).

With these random notions running on the inside track of my mind is it any wonder I am still awake at 1:22am?

resolutions to self

2012-01-08T23:15:00.004-05:00

Wine, the color of blackberries, one sip alone can level aperspective. There is nothing better than a glass of fine wine on a winterafternoon to put one’s soul at ease. It is Sunday, the 8^th of January.The city is surprisingly quiet, the traffic minimal, the parking free. I never know what to expect on theweekends, and am more than willing to cough up the money to park—as it is worthnot having to deal with the frustration of slow and at times inoperable subwaylines.

Early dinner at Antica Venezia, serving a regional Italianwith ample selections of i primi and secondi piatti with i contorni. They servecomplimentary bruschetta, Parmesan cheese and fried zucchini (with your breadbasked for those who cannot live without) as you wait for your meal.

The last time I dined here was some time in the mid-2000s,when i penguini were still intact. It is as I remember it, with Italiannationals, who have chosen a career in the hospitality industry; where everyman is a signor, every woman una principessa—where the art of attentiveness isstill practiced. It’s a lovely restaurant, a bit out of the way for most Isuppose but you can’t beat the location, on the corner of West Street and West10^th street, with an unobstructed view of the river park (providingtraffic is clear). It’s a perfect off the beaten place to feel the nearby sun,to watch the sunset.

Today’s supper consists of a fresh mozzarella salad withroasted peppers, tomatoes and Portabello mushrooms. I’m not a big fan ofmushrooms—their flavor is too bland for my palate; peppers on the other handare delightful—and today’s bufala is a pleasant complement. I’ve orderedcapellini vongole in a white wine sauce as my main entrée.

Time is a moving target and it’s amazing to me that as fastas it is moving, I still feel young. Perhaps it is because I don’t allow myselftime to think about age and its place in my life, because I keep myself movingtoward the magic of self-accomplishment. I hope I never lose that.

One of the ways I’ve been keeping myself in check isacknowledging the new behavior in New Year’s resolutions. If even just to keepmyself invested, I tweet and post on Facebook when I’m acting them out loud:

#1 Embrace your inner child: Visit a zoo, actsilly, laugh out loud.
#2 Write more, more often: check out http://bkgardenapt.blogger.om
#3 Pursue that which touches your heart most:music, singing to be exact. I started lessons with Matt Deming late last year.
#4 Listen to your body: take a break if you needit (i.e., last night I clocked 11 hrs sleep).
#5 If it’s weighing you down, chuck it: Long hairisn’t forever for everyone, I realized that after my trip to Memphis and on awhim chopped off 5” on Thursday night. Just. Like. That.
#6 Discover new music in my own city: Shamarr Allen and the Underdawgs - @ Brooklyn Bowl last night for theExport NOLA festival. Definitely worth checking out.
#7 Be bold, face your fears: One of mine, singing in front of a liveaudience (that is not at a karaoke bar) will be realized later this month downin Maryland. I accepted afriend/co-worker’s challenge to compete in the AOL’s Got Talent show.
#8 Be miserly with your time, spend it wisely,whether that be with a good friend: Claudia and I met for brunch at BoutiqueEat Shop yesterday to catch up on the comings and goings oflife, and ended up strolling around lower Chelsea enjoying the good weather andcompany; or treating yourself to alone time: an afternoon retreat reading onthe couch with the cat, or a one-off meal at a favorite bistro, whatever allowsyou to replenish your soul.#9 Resolutions are ongoing, stay tuned foradditions to the list…

insomnia

2012-01-03T01:20:00.000-05:00

The average person takes 7 minutes to fall asleep...apparently I am the non-average person, as I am finding it extremely difficult to catch some Z's. It is 1 a.m. and my mind is on fire with musical notes and lyrics; concepts and ideas of resolutions to make and to keep; thoughts on where I live now and where I should live later. Visions of musical staffs, wooden floors in lofts, views of the ocean from a balcony, a glass of sweet tea beside a rocking chair play out in my mind like a flipbook.

Tigger is at the foot of the bed, purring in his sleep. The house is quiet. And hot. I place a bowl of cool water on the radiator and turn on the fan. 33 degrees outside, but not within. I read passages from extremely loud and incredibly close, my eyes grow weary and I put the book aside only to stare at the ceiling in the dark.

With a glance at the clock a new set of lyrics, this time from Anna Nalick start dancing around in my brain:

2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,

can you help me unravel my latest mistake?

I don't love him.

Winter just wasn't my season.

I wonder what has caused this sudden bout of insomnia. I had but one cup of coffee at noon, and no caffeine that I am aware of since. I spent the rest of the day cooking, making dinner and lunch for tomorrow, Might it have been the late afternoon 10-minute snippets of sleep as the pork roasted that did it?

The evening ended with watching Nicholas Sparks' A Walk to Remember and my shedding silly amounts of tears as the protagonist (played by Mandy Moore) succumbed to leukemia. I had brewed my favorite natural sleep remedy to help lull the mind to slumber...I wonder if I used something other than chamomile? Sigh.

At least I've kept to resolution #2, writing more, more often, 2 days in a row. I would have preferred the inspiration didn't come with sleep deprivation; and love how that just adds another resolution to the list.

2012: It's a zoo out there

2012-01-02T10:21:00.000-05:00

On our last day in Memphis, the temperature dropping to a low 50 degrees we find ourselves at Overton Park admiring the obelisk that marks the entryway to the Memphis Zoo & Aquarium. The sun high, parking free and admission reduced, we eagerly make our way to the entry like a pair of 7-year olds.

The first of our 2012 resolutions take shape: Embrace our inner child. And what better way to kick it off then with a magical visiting to the zoo? We giddily make our way through the maze of cat houses and polar bear pools, in awe and wonderment over nature's wild side, in this city safari.

Highlights below:

Feeding time with the African penguins

The elusive mountain lion

The elegant cheetah

Meerkats - too cold to 'move it'!

Simiang swings from rope to rope

Panda noshing on bamboo

Panda resting post-NYE fun

Closest creature to a unicorn we'll ever see

Gotta love them stripes!

Giraffes!

Playful giraffes :)

Sage monkey contemplates life

Cutest simian ever!

Silverback gorilla takes charge.

Retrospective: Memphis

2012-01-02T03:51:00.004-05:00

Memphis, the largest city in Tennessee is set on the Mississippi River and best known for the "King" Elvis Presley, the kitschy souvenir roadside attraction that is Graceland, and for the live rhythm and blues performances one can find almost daily in the parks and clubs along Beale Street. There is a bit more to this sleepy outpost, and just a few days are enough to uncover its unique qualities.

Wednesday

As the taxi makes its way along the river, I take note of the soot-covered refinery chimneys pumping white gusts of smoke into the blue sky, the tony South Bluffs community with its beautiful homes overlooking the shores of Tennessee and Arkansas just a few miles away.

After a quick lunch at Huey's, a neighborhood diner recommended by the staff at The Madison, I find myself wandering the nearby district. It's a Wednesday afternoon just before New Year's, and the downtown area of Memphis is deserted, eerily quiet for someone used to the nonstop hustle and bustle of New York and its outer boroughs.

Luckily there is a full house of patrons at Eighty3, the hotel bar, and I settle in with an espresso martini and delve into the friendly conversations of which there are aplenty, while waiting for Claire to arrive.

I'm personally not a big fan of BBQ but Claire is a lover and aficionado so we make our first dining experience at the renowned Rendezvous BBQ located on it's own namesake alley just behind South 2nd Street. The BBQ restaurant boasts: "Not since Adam has a rib been this famous," and though tasty, I agree with Claire in that the meat was a bit dry and didn't quite fall off the bone like one would have liked.

Thursday

After a continental breakfast at The Madison, we make our way to The Peabody (sadly just missing their famous duck parade) to begin a walking tour of the downtown Memphis area.

Following the guided instructions provided by Frommer's we discover the city's most famous attractions, including an introduction of Beale Street (with our first live concert in WC Handy Park) and the National Civil Rights Museum. The museum structure incorporates the location of Martin Luther King, Jr's assassination, The Lorraine Hotel.

I found the exhibit to be quite moving, thanks in part to the introductory film The Witness: From the Balcony of Room 306--told from the point of view of Reverend Kyles, who was present on that fateful day.

The day of touring ends with a late lunch at Gus's Hot and Spicy Chicken and a trolley ride back to the hotel for a rest before checking out some live rhythm and blues.

Later that evening we head out for Beale Street, starting at the Blues City Cafe with Brad Birkedahl and the Burnin' Love Band followed by karaoke (signature rendition of Walking on Sunshine) at the Superior Bar, just a few doors down. Here we learn some hip hop dance moves from new friend Shae, before calling it a night early Friday morning.

Friday

We wake to another beautiful Memphis morning, and venture to the Blue Plate Cafe for a hearty Southern breakfast. We order a tasting menu that includes biscuits and gravy, fried green tomatoes, eggs, grits, pancakes, bacon and hash browns, accompanied by juice and coffee. And even though we're not likely to finish everything, we take the leftover biscuits and deep friend green tomatoes as snacks for our day at Graceland.

The drive takes all of 20 minutes; and there's time to browse the gift shop before queuing with the other visitors for our tour. The crowd's demographic is mostly white, and young due in part to the many football fans in town for tomorrow's football match at the Autozone Liberty Bowl. We are surrounded by sweatshirts in red and gold as Bearcat and Commodore fans rally in the Memphian attractions.

The decor of Graceland proper is quite different not quite as ostentatious as I thought. Claire and I disagree on the level of tackiness; in my experience as a child growing up amid gaudy Italian design with plastic-encased brocade couches, white faux Christmas trees and mirrors everywhere, I find Elvis' choices in most cases modest. The living room with its cream-colored couch and baby grand seems almost elegant for the 70s, and the mirrored dining room table with its black lacquer chairs and teak accents are not at all what I had expected. The famous Jungle Room, features an indoor waterfall and carved wood furniture, a "lush" forest green shag rug. Together with the tapestry ceiling in the pool room (see below) are the most 'decadent'--obvious examples of an acquired decor preference from the psychedelic decade. Though given the cribs of celebrities today, Elvis' pad somehow pales in comparison.

The most impressive parts of Graceland, include Elvis' hall of fame walls covered with gold and platinum records, his custom-designed cars and collection of aircraft, as well as a wall of donations for all of his philanthropic efforts.

Next stop the Gibson Beale Street Showcase for a tour of the guitar factory--the detail and care that goes into each guitar during its 3-week long creation process certainly inspires the inner musician to own one--until hearing the price tag. Gibson guitars cost anywhere from $800 to $10,000.

We catch a light dinner at The Majestic Grill, formerly a silent picture house that entertained Memphians for three decades, before heading back to Beale Street for more live music. This time we find ourselves enjoying the sounds of James Govan and the Boogie Blues Band, the house band playing at the Rum Boogie Cafe for the past 17 years.

Saturday

Brunch finds us in the Cooper-Youth district, a 1x1 block square of restaurants and bars. We take a break from the southern cuisine with pasta and pizza from Cortona, a local Italian restaurant. The last day of 2011 and there are worse ways to close out the year than with lunch al fresco in sunny 62 degrees.

We drive through Midtown and East Memphis, checking out local shops Crazy Beautiful (where Claire finds a killer pair of new jeans), the University of Memphis/Tiger bookstore (where we picked up tattoos and pom-poms for the game tonight), and Flashback, a vintage shop (where a vintage airstream is parked in the lot):

Claire & Andrea, 12.31.11

Back in Memphis, we shower and change before heading over to the FedEx Forum for the Memphis Tigers vs. Charlotte 49ers college basketball game, and our final night of fun. We head over to Bury Our Blues in WC Handy Park and stumble upon new rock band, Prosevere performing center stage. Beale Street is packed, a mini-Times Square for the annual Hard Rock Guitar Drop at midnight. Afterwards we return to Rum Boogie Cafe for an encore of the house band tunes, and then head over to Huey's for greasy grub to wash 2011 for good. We may have celebrated the new year one hour behind but we definitely felt the east coast celebration in central time!

Permission to let go, Santa.

2011-12-26T14:49:00.002-05:00

I have a love-hate relationship with the holidays. Every year I approach it with fresh eyes and a clear heart, I mentally prepare myself to take it all in--the lights, the love, the tidings of peace and joy from friends and strangers alike. But I can never escape the sadness, for as much as we would like to believe that a holy day as momentous as Christmas could be left unscathed from sorrow it never is. There beneath the glitter and gold, the sugar and spice lies a silver lining tarnished by tears, anger, regret, depression.

I have always been affected by others emotions--by their glee, their wishes and dreams, their strife. I earnestly want to help, and admittedly I don't always suggest the most practical ideas and solutions in their time of need. I often question the presence of a sixth sense existence, of ghost and spirits, and psychic ability. I want to believe that the impossible is possible and that my lost loved ones 'presence' is tangible even in its most ethereal state at this time of year.

Sometimes I wish for the power to change things in real-time with a twitch of a nose and a flick of a wand--it must be the influence of all those hours reading Meg Murry's adventures, of dreaming what lies just beyond the wardrobe, and watching Piper freeze time and mix potions. I love the mysticism attached to being a witch, the mythology of spells and incantations. I've been reading the Game of Thrones and am mesmerized by Daenerys and her dragons and of magic, of words. It takes just a moment in this real world of 2012 to remind me that time, effort and a whole lot of blood, sweat and tears makes the magic of this age.

Empathy: loosely defined as the art of experiencing the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of others, of channeling them within. I can relate to that definition, and whilst I am no Aiden Lucas, after hearing the not so cheery news of others and left to my own devices the negativity can bloom and compound if you will, scarring me from the inside out. Much like it did yesterday, on Christmas.

In the last week alone, I found myself with a minor conflict at work; conflicted by how best to be compassionate to a friend struggling with the repercussions of unemployment and a looming mortgage; grasping the news of the sudden death of a friend's mother--which unearthed the loss of my own mom 12 years ago--and how to console her despite the distance; a relative's angst over a family tragedy. In the midst of all this sad news, I found myself with good news of my own and no one other than my brother or father to share it with--and that realization, of being alone, catapults even the strongest of souls into a downward spiral. And as I wrapped my gifts and baked Christmas cookies, as I planned my driving route and tried to think positively about Christmas dinner with my brother's family, it festered and stewed.

Dad & I were scheduled to leave the house at noon--now that Dad moves slower I took the liberty of buffering our departure time by 45 minutes in the event that we were running behind (because frankly we always are). I packed the car and waited: first Dad had to have coffee, then write out the children's cards and then there was the trip to the bathroom. When I found myself in the car, double-parked on the street, unraveling a knitted piece of yarn, still waiting for Dad at 1:45pm I should have known that the simmering blood under my skin was close to boiling.

When we finally found ourselves on the road, we hit bumper to bumper traffic, and Dad suggests we take an alternate route through Far Rockaway and Long Beach. I acquiesce, reset the GPS and we make our way through. Now mind you he hasn't driven in this area for ages, and the majority of the neighborhoods within 45 minute driving distance from the city have undergone major reconstruction. Nothing is like it was before. And so we drive, get turned around, and then we are lost. And that is when I lose it, my bottled up patience explodes, we yell and scream, I start cussing. He berates me for not listening to him, I get a headache and try to get my bearings.

It's a big hot mess. My brother calls in the middle of it and like Yoda shares his words of wisdom--"Well then you'll get here when you get here." The simmer returns, we drive a little further. I have to pull the car over to the side of the road, just to get some air. I count to ten, take a deep breath, get back in the car, try to talk to my father in a rational turn. He hears only what he wants to, reacts only to the words that suit him. I see red, beyond the chariot fire color of my car. And it all comes out...the angst of the last few days, the emotional duress, the remembrance of my mother's death caused by the death of my friend's mother, the realization of not having another breathing soul to share my achievements with except the emotionally unavailable brother and father I am stuck with, the words tumble out into the cab of the car and fall upon deaf ears.

By the time I am through my car needs an exorcism. I crank the radio and retreat into silence, blocking out anything Dad has to say. It's in these moments I wonder how my mom survived being married to someone who doesn't listen, who tunes out the emotional conversation.

We arrive 90 minutes late to a house filled with laughter--the children are running and dancing, getting so big, they are barely unrecognizable. They talk of dance recitals, soccer and hockey games, activities that Caroline's family can talk about in minute details. So many parts of their lives, to which I have no purview, I know nothing about.

I feel as if I am a moviegoer, nothing more than a witness. My own family strange and unfamiliar to me and I wonder why I even allow myself to partake in these moments if they make me feel so empty afterward.

And so I make a resolution to myself right then and there. In 2012 I will give myself permission to let go, to not get wrapped in the madness of expectations associated with participating in these 'family' holidays, to allow myself to be selfish, to free my heart so that I'll still have love to give when that person steps into my life. May 2012 present the opportunity to disappear and experience life beyond these false walls. Amen.

irene takes new york by storm, part 2

2011-08-28T13:20:00.000-04:00

7:00 AM

It's still raining but the darkness seems to have passed. I am on the floor cocooned in a comforter having slept in the living room so I could monitor the sky from the window and avoid a startling awake from water flooding my bedroom. Luckily nothing of the sort has occurred. The rain rocks me back to sleep.

10:30 AM

I wake to the sound of text messages. Irene has come and gone overnight, flooding some areas, leaving behind fell trees in its wake, downgraded to a tropical storm. The sun is attempting to break through the clouds. I think the worst of it is over.

12:17 PM

I go outside. And there is nothing earth shattering to report. My biggest fear was that the massive tree across the street would fall, striking neighboring homes but luckily the block didn't lose one tree, of the few we have left.

And save for a few overturned garbage cans there is little to no damage. The wind is still strong but not with a withering force and unlike many, we have power. Bloomberg is encouraging we stay local and inside if possible. Personally I am perfectly okay to stay put, have breakfast, watch movies the rest of the afternoon; if I can figure out how to get the DVD player to work.

1:00 PM

40 minutes of struggle but I can both see and hear the Harry Potter DVD inserted into the player now. Seems like an appropriate movie to watch given the surreality of the last few days.

I don't know that I would criticize the government officials, I understand that they were trying to safeguard against the possibility of another catastrophe and their lack of response to past incidents with Mother Nature. I can't help but wonder if the random earthquake didn't contribute to the overreaction from everyone. It's hard not to think apocalypse when nature's stage show falls upon you over the course of a few days. Luckily Nostradamus didn't predict this one.

irene please be gentle...

2011-08-28T00:51:00.000-04:00

11:30 PM

sometimes my dad makes me nervous. i just went to check in on him and he asked me if it was time to eat. it's nearly midnight for crying out loud, and though it's true that i bought food for the both of us hours ago, I certainly didn't expect him to wait until I appeared to eat it. How is it that his hunger pains didn't alert him to pause the black and white movie he'd been watching to eat long enough to eat something. So now at 11:41pm that's what he's doing, dining on fish salad and a glass of chilled white wine. Crazy Italian.

12:30 AM

The wind is fierce; the chimes are in a fury...didn't think to take them in. I am grateful that the Grinch tree is gone...there is no doubt in my mind that it could have been ripped out of the earth and used as a baton by this storm. I don't know why but one of my neighbors is outside, finagling with his car, in the wind and the rain. The thought of going outside is exhausting.

I am tired, my body's pent up with stress from anticipating Irene's wrath. Certainly doesn't help, and it turns out that active threads of a tornado (as Mon Frite predicted) have emerged too. Actually Emily is in Philly anticipating the tornado from her FB post: "Philly's under a warning--unconfirmed touchdown about 3 miles southeast of my house!" She's been debating between floors where to stay until it passes over, and was holed up in the stone basement with an Angel cat, flashlight and glass of wine. I pray she stays safe.

I swear if it weren't for Facebook I think we would all be bored senseless with worry about each other. At least we can somewhat brace ourselves with what's to come based on each others stories. Little comfort I realize but it is something.

I am nervous about sleeping. Closing my eyes and waiting seems like a foolish gesture, and yet there is not much I will be able to do if I am just as exhausted in the morning. Whatever sleep I can get with all this crazy wind noise--it is a frightening bellow too, like something out of a horror movie--will have to do. And Lord knows I'll be saying a little prayer for everyone before my eyes close shut, prayers that we wake up to a blissful simple rainstorm, and nothing else.

Sleep well all, Irene I beg of you, please be gentle.

raining irene

2011-08-27T22:19:00.000-04:00

9:19 PM

I've been charging everything and anything that might require juice just in case the power goes out tomorrow. (Cannot even think about the loss of food if it does.) The "Carry & Go" bag is in the bedroom, Tigger's carrier is prepared as well, I have a full tank of gas, extra cash and have coached my Dad to do the same. I pray that we won't have to evacuate, I wouldn't even know where we would go. I feel like we will be much much safer if we just stay put.

It's raining harder than before, and I think I just saw lightning or maybe the lights just flickered? Either way not a good thing. I also can't tell thunder from the wind at this point, and it's humid as Hades in here. Rain sounds like rain, just the same:

wind+water & everything in between

2011-08-27T22:00:00.000-04:00

8:30 PM


This image comes close but the sky I see is far more foreboding.

I look outside my window and all I can see is darkness. No external light is visible from where I sit. I stand up to move closer to the window, the sky is gray, storm gray I suppose.

The rain starts, then stops. I feel tired but I haven't done a thing today. The weather makes me lethargic, sleepy, wistful. Tigger nearby curled on his bamboo settee. Chimes twinkle just outside my door. I feel vulnerable, to the elements, to myself. Loneliness is an uncomfortable feeling, and a part of me longs for the comfort of another person, which feels exponentially real just now.

There's something to be said for happiness. Stability at work, comfortable with yourself, at peace. Once your life settles into that kind of mindspeak, it opens the doors to other possibilities, to meeting people, to love. I've been so wrapped up in my work lately that I'd forgotten that I held the power to open those doors.

I had a date this week, which was actually a lot of fun. I found that despite our chance meeting, we had a lot in common: photography, music, writing. It seemed to go well: dinner, followed by drinks and a nightcap. We shall see how it unfolds, the who calls who adding texts into the mix and the prospect of when shall we meet again--too often silence and disappointment follow, I will hope this time will be different.

Facebook is buzzing, and an alert from a college friend from Suffolk, VA has posted: "We are 35 miles from the eye and this storm is what everyone said it was!! Drilling rain started at midnight. Lost power at noon. Nothing but 50-80 mile an hour winds. The Nansemond River that runs through our golf course is usually a salt water marsh with a one hundred yard channel, it has to be two miles wide - no lie. Hunker down yanks!"

Suffolk is 7 hours south of here, Irene is moving fast...the crisis hurricane map is holding steady showing Irene as Category 1. It is the intensity of the wind that determines a hurricane's true category, the storm surge refers to the amount of water the hurricane will discharge on everything in its wake.

The rain starts again, this time harder than before, other than that the night is quiet, only it feels later than it actually is. I'm preparing a late-night dinner: grilled steak with zucchini and peas. Eating dessert first: Haagen-Daas coffee with Nutella swirled atop. Waiting for the zucchini bread to finish its time in the oven. It's one of my favorite recipes from Mom. The other is for rich moist brownies, the ingredients for which are on the counter and at this point, well beyond room temperature.

Mom's Zucchini Bread

3 c. zucchini, very thinly sliced

1 c. Bisquick

1/2 c. chopped onion

1/2 c. Parmesan cheese

2 tbsp. parsley

1/2 tbsp. marjoram

1/4 tsp. dry mustard

1 clove garlic

1/2 c. vegetable oil

4 eggs, beaten

Mix all ingredients together and put into a greased 13"x9"x2" pan. Bake approximately 30 minutes at 350 degrees. This recipe can be doubled or tripled and part of your bread can be frozen.

#

Waiting for Irene

2011-08-27T19:54:00.000-04:00

6:00PM

I slept soundly last night and woke up to silence, the occasional splashing of water on asphalt against tires. I wondered if people were actually listening to the Evacuation Advice from government officials that there would be damaging winds to come that the threat of Irene was real.

There were a few were on the street, those that were out gathering supplies, the supermarket appeared peppered with customers, closing early in anticipation. Almost everyone bidding each other to be safe, stay indoors.

Stay indoors, sleep, read, clean, prepare. Prepare? How much is enough? How much is not enough? I live in a ground floor apartment, approximately 1 mile northeast of Gravesend Bay, 2.4 miles west of Coney Island beach. Will that proximity make it worse? Our block is bordered by 2 large high rises, does that make it better? The drain in the backyard makes me nervous, the last time it rained hard as hell, the entire area was covered in 2-4" of water. Mind you not close enough to my windowsill but predictions for Irene make me wonder how much she will challenge that benchmark.

The light rain hesitates, the hum of cicadas haunting in the quiet lull before the storm. It's the waiting, that is the hardest part I think. The waiting of the unknown, of what Mother Nature will choose to bear down on us.

I Want to Sing Again

2011-08-27T13:32:00.000-04:00

2 weeks later the waiting room at Dr. Kumra's office is soothingly decorated in shades of gray. The floor is particularly intriguing--vinyl steel linoleum tiles that remind me of sharkskin. Every thing connects back to water somehow.

The doctor sprays numbing antiseptic in my right nostril and then passes the scope, a curved fiberoptic cable through my left nostril and pharynx until it offers a view of my vocal folds. The diagnosis is promising: The chords on the left side of my throat are slightly inflamed but do not show any signs of bruising. The doctor recommends that I refrain from putting any unnecessary pressure on my vocal chords for the next 6 weeks, that includes talking loud, yelling and singing--not in the shower, or the car and absolutely no karaoke.

No karaoke? For six weeks? It sounds like a life sentence. The thought of not singing produces a dull pang. I love music, I love humming melodies, I can't help but sing-a-long to a favorite tune. And it's more difficult than you can imagine, every time I catch myself in the act, I cringe. I silently belt a mantra to remind myself that every ooh, aah or woo-hoo adds stress to already swollen chords. This necessary act of restraint, is a true personal challenge.

And like anything that is forbidden, that is taken by force or circumstance, that is taken without your permission--the feeling of loss is almost immediate. I find myself thinking about the possibility of not ever being able to sing again and I get sick to my stomach. Sick because over the years I've allowed myself to forget that I can sing. I was studying music with a coach in Brooklyn for awhile and wasn't really committed to the lessons, did not put effort into practicing. I think of all that time wasted, and have to shake the negative thoughts from my head. Right then and there I make a promise to myself to reconnect to music, to find a way to sing again, even if just for myself.

come on irene....

2011-08-26T17:20:00.000-04:00

The city is in a tizzy over Hurricane Irene. A co-worker went out at lunch to buy a flashlight, 4 stores later not a one in sight. Friends are pinging left and right to find out if they should make plans to evacuate now or wait and see until tomorrow. Bloomberg has alerted the masses that MTA service will be suspended as of tomorrow at noon. I checked the crisis map and we are a block northwest of the flooding danger area in Zone C--which will only see issues if Irene turns itself into a category 4 hurricane. And as long as I have access to electricity and a signal know that I'll be posting updates from the front.

Photo taken from space 20 hours ago. Source: NY Daily News

Useful Links:

Watch the progress of the storm here.
For power outage information, click through to the ConEd site here.
Check out this simulation of what flooding could do to the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel if a Category 2 hurricane hits the city.

Surfboard: Impact

2011-08-13T21:37:00.000-04:00

shaken, unnerved, the
same unexpected feelings
after the impact.

Of all the things that could have happened on this trip, all the things I imagined, being slammed in the throat by a surfboard was not one of them. And even Holly, in all the 17 years of her surfing career, had never heard of such a thing either.

Gleefully excited for having finally gathered enough confidence to push the board forward (without any assistance) into the whitewash, steadying myself if but for a minute in an abbreviated warrior stance, I approached the shore just in time to slip off the board in shallow water. Shallow water, low tide, no wind--it took but a moment to readjust to standing when the board took flight, flipping out of the ocean in a horizontal cross, with a clothesline to my throat.

It is by far the most helpless of feelings losing one's voice (as I would imagine losing any one of the senses you rely on so heavily)...imagine being the furthest distance away from the group and the camp and not having the means to let the others know that something is amiss. Flailing hands and jumping up and down could easily be misconstrued as excitement from afar. I had to calm myself down (nerves and fear) long enough to disengage from the board and make my way across the beach to the cooler of beverages where Joice was taking a break.

No blood, no bruising, and thankfully no concussion, just my new role as a silent movie actress in a technicolor film.

Once back at the lodge Jamie's kitchen staff provides hot lemon water to soothe my throat and ease the pressure and sore throat feeling. I begged off on afternoon lessons for a hammock nap. my larynx/esophagus it feels as if someone had attempted a strangling, thwarting my speech by applying pressure to my vocal chords. My voice is raspy at best and I lie in wait wondering if my voice will ever return to normal.

#

24 hours later I find it hard to swallow--as if I have a bout of laryngitis, which isn't too far off the mark. There's a constant raw feeling in my throat--from the saltwater intake or impact, it's hard to determine. And I have a dull tension headache that is lingering, I cannot remember if I had it before I went to sleep or what.

At breakfast, Jamie asks if I want to go the local clinic...and I am torn. I am in a 3rd world country, what could they possibly do other than take an x-ray. The real damage, if any is with the muscles and cartilage on the inside of the my throat, that will take an endoscopic tool of some sort. Better to wait and see, and make an appointment with an ENT as soon as I get home.

#

Interesting thing about being voiceless, it heightens the capabilities of your other senses and the awareness of one's observations. (...to be continued)

iPhone Nation

2011-08-13T10:33:00.000-04:00

I've been having issues with my Motorola Droid, one of the original android phones released by Verizon, for a weeks now. My biggest gripes included battery life--I was charging it up to 2x a day for a limited 4-5 hour span; the quirkiness of the touch screen--on occasion it would act on its own accord as if enchanted by Harry Potter or Sabrina the Witch; and the blasted QWERTY auto spell was driving me insane replacing numbers for letters and wacky word intuition.

When I was eligible for the New Every Two upgrade*, a Verizon-supported iPhone was lacking in the marketplace. And despite being surrounded by iPhone enthusiasts, I was able to resist the temptation of switching carriers to join the iPhone nation. And to be frank, I don't know that I was ready to drink from Apple's Kool-aid chalice. And even now I am hesitant to make the switch.

A chance conversation with Daniel, a sales rep from the 8th Street Verizon Wireless Store makes me reconsider. When he first learns about my dilemma he begins to ask me a series of questions, like do I have Mac and what percentage of the Mac applications I use on a daily basis. That made me really stop and think about how I approach my day to day relationship with the Web. I check my personal email about 3x day, so consolidating all my email accounts (gmail, AOL and MobileMe) into one centralized mailbox with a clean interface was super important and would be a huge time saver. Everything else I could think of--managing photo libraries and calendar plus saving files to iDisk soon-to-be iCloud all required a Mac-friendly environment. I guess one could assess that it was a no-brainer to consider purchasing an iPhone--the Apple Gift Card I received from my brother for Christmas more or less sweetened the deal.

I became an official iPhone owner on Friday, August 12th, 2011. Colleagues and friends in preparation for the purchase day warned me about App Obsession (suffered by folks of all ages) where one finds more time to search and download apps than pretty much any thing else in the world. I polled friends on Facebook for their must have Apps (you can check out the list below), and proceeded to customize my wallpapers and settings as well as sync contacts and music (for the handy little iPod feature).

It was awesome to be out and about today with a streamlined and easily navigable phone (though I'm convinced it will take a long time to uncover every nook and cranny on how best to optimize and customize the gadget). I downloaded new apps, and took some cool photos filtered by Instagram
-- this next week will be a trial run and I hope the platform transition won't be too painful. :)

Recommended Apps:

Whirly Word
imo
Skype (3)
Hipstamatic (2)
Pandora
Find my iPhone (2)
TripIt!
Viber
Soundhound
Flashlight (if you got the iPhone 4)
+1
Calcbot
Shazam
Angry Birds
Shazam
iHeart Radio
The Scoop
Urban Spoon
Netflix (if you already have an account)
CNN
The New York Times
NY1 News
imDb
grubhub
NPR Addict
Epicurious
Menupages
Yelp
Pulse
Thicket

(*ironically has been discontinued with the introduction of iPhone 4)

We’re all amigas in El Coco Loco

2011-08-12T11:55:00.000-04:00

Amigas in El Coco Loco trek to the beach

Early Monday morning, the rooster crows, the sun rises. I’veno idea what time it could be but it must be early for the chocogos to bechirping. I can hear the surf pounding the shore in the distance. I dressquietly as to not wake Jen and head to the common dining area to write. El CocoLoco is an oasis, a paradise of sorts, luxurious in that there are noexpectations for anything beyond peace of mind, the quieting of the westernworld, the rejuvenation of spirit.

We trek to the beach, our gear safely stored in backpacksand totes. Holly takes the boards in the truck. We learn how to wax the boardand then our first lesson on how to hug the board and prepare to pop up andstand. Holly tells us that surfing is about having the ocean push you, andabout having fun with the board. I appreciate that she stresses the fun factorvs. the competitive edge.

I am still unsure that I will take to surfing but in facingmy fear of the unknown I push it aside and forge ahead listening closely to thesafety rules. The board should be held parallel to your body as you enter thewater, the fin in the water, the tail end firmly held in your hand. Whenreadying yourself to take a wave, remember to always pivot clockwise away fromthe water, as you never want the board between you and the oncoming waves. Mostinjuries occur with the force of the wave wielding the board against your body.Also of note when riding a wave, if you fall off and under water, be sure tocover your head with your arms until you can determine where the board is at inrelation to where you are. That’s a lot to remember especially for a beginner.

Lying face down on the board, the foam and sea washing overmy body, in the beginning an instructor waits with you for the right wave topush you forward. Quiet mind, quiet soul, be patient. Then the board pulls backslightly and ricochets through the water with a gentle push, a gentle slingshot,and you propel across the surface of the water. I am far from an extremesportster daredevil but I would be lying to myself if I said that first rushtoward the beach wasn’t exhilarating.

From the shore, as I watch the amigas I see that for some it is easy, almost second nature topop-up and stand. And even on this first attempt at taming the ocean I can seethrough the beautiful cobra and warrior stances to those who will evolve intosurf riders by week’s end.

Mid-morning

The day seems to move slower here, though getting up at thecrack of dawn certainly makes the time you have more productive. Catch a wave,take a nap, cat cow, downward facing dog, listen with your heart speak only ifyou wish. I find I am observing more than participating, somehow leaning towardmonastic solitude. The ocean is loud a rough and tumble of white noise,crushing the surf like a fleet of semis racing the highway. The day is lazilyspent swaying to and from a denim hammock tied to posts with yellow and purplebungee cords.

Namaste

Mellow vinyasa yoga on a palapa with stilts the view of thehorizon aligned to the downward dog. Flow into high lunge. Nicole leads usthrough positions to open our heart, unlock our soul energy, explaining thevalue and strength of each position and how it relates to surfing; the foglifts as the meaning becomes clear. Rotate the hip joints, release thestressors. The stretch feels good, for my body, for my mind. Self-criticismtumbles over and upside down in my mind. Many of the amigas were successful in popping up on the board today; I did notcome close. I push harder through the vinyasa focusing on the breath forcingthe voices to quiet down. The crosswind breeze swirls around my body, pushingthe heat up and out into the atmosphere. Nicole challenges us with a tripodheadstand; it will be a week of firsts. Then corpse and prayer position,everyone and everything is still as the wind picks up, the sky darkens and therain comes.

Early morning haiku

2011-08-12T11:12:00.000-04:00

7.12.11

Eaten alive: awake;
asleep by nine-thirty sharp;
bathroom run at three.

Mosquito attack
happened when I was asleep:
now covered in welts.

Why they love my blood,
I wish I knew. Damn insects,
vampirical.

Rooster crows at dawn,
eyes flutter and stay open.
Five-thirty? No choice,

I quietly dress
as to not disturb Jenn.
Make my way uphill.

I am second start.
Jamie’s awake, stirring, smiling.
Pudding. Gatorade.

With paper and pen,
settled into a rocker
the writing begins.

Ease into silence,
scribbling random thoughts seaside
until camp awakes.

El Coco Loco Shadow Dancing

2011-08-11T11:04:00.000-04:00

7.11.11

I just want to controlthe ocean and the weather, it’s not that hard. – Holly Beck

Thunder first, then light
shadow dancing black to grey
illuminating.

Dark knight into white
crashing waves blend into sound:
rain, ocean? Unknown.

Sky meets horizon
one begins as another ends
a jagged sword: there!

Huddling beneath
a canopy of palm leaves,
watching the light show:

Friendships cultivate.
Life experiences shared
woman to woman.

El Coco Loco, this is day one...

2011-08-11T10:59:00.000-04:00

Waiting: Sunday, early morning breakfast, a swim at thepool, a phone call then another. I am leaving messages in the ether, speakingunspoken languages to their ears, fragmented speech. It is a game, a languagegame where several unlucky attempts to reach a bi-lingual speaker at El CocoLoco results in telephone commedia. It takes a few tries before I realize thatthe concierge can help and yet even that proves difficult. And so I begin theart of letting go, releasing control and allowing life to unfurl itself.

The sky is a crystalline blue, the clouds still cloaking thenearby volcanoes. The sun is strong and as I lather on the SPF 50 can feel theheat passing through to my heart. I love the feel of the sun on my skin, andsometimes I crave it, even though I know the dangers all too well. A womanfurther down in the chaise line-up, compliments my swimsuit and smiles she toois wearing Title9 in a very similar pattern. Synchronicity, Nica is filled withthe magic of it.

A lap, a nap, my eyes flutter to catch elephants charginghorses, laying their heads on downy pillows.

Cloud watching is one of myfavorite pastimes and reminds me of afternoons spent as a child at Owl’s HeadPark in Bay Ridge, stretched out on plaid blanketsfeeding our imaginations with the sky. As adults so much of our time is spentinside staring at screens, is it any wonder that we’ve forgotten how to see theworld around us as multi-dimensional? A few years back friends and I went applepicking, it was a gorgeous day in early fall where the heat of summer lingered.We spent the day in an orchard, marveling at the changing colors of the treesand after a full day we made it back to The Swiss Miss’ apartment in midtown,drunk on sunshine and fresh air. Glass of wine in hand, we lazed about thecouch and the floor cloud-watching from the east-ward window: such a blissfulmemory .

The van is gunmetal gray with a fire breathing decal acrossthe windshield, a burka-sized peephole for drivers Omar & Luiz to view theroad. The rain starts almost immediately, a thunderous downpour as we make ourway to the airport. I ask Luiz if it the rain is this heavy at el coco loco. Lluvia is the word for rain, he says, mywords lost in translation.

Omar and I are at a gas station, while Luiz is at Managuaairport rounding up the other women participating in the Surfing Retreat. Omar,a native of Chinandega, has an insatiable curiosity and as we lie in wait he isbubbling over with 20 questions. I feel like Elizabeth Gilbert surrounded by Wayans in Bali: Are you married? How old are you? Do youhave a boyfriend? What year was it the last time you had one? Where did helive? We share stories in Spanglish, learning each other’s lives.

There are 6 of us in varying stages of exhaustion in theback seat of the van as Luiz and Omar drive us west toward the Pacific Coast,Bob Marley videos playing for our entertainment. The conversation flows in andout like the tide. Almost every time zone is represented with travelers fromCalifornia, Nevada, Indiana and New York.

Our passage to El Coco Loco is mostly highway until we getcloser to Chinandega and then it is anyone’s guess where we are and where weare going. I feel like Alex Rover relying on GPS coordinates to find her way.The storms have hit the surrounding areas making for a bumpy way inland to thesea. A tree is down on the main road, so Omar & Luiz take us through thebackroads to the estuary where we meet Holly and her fleet of muddy 4WDs. Weexchange vehicles and drive across the estuary, a herd of cows leading the way.By the time we make it to the ecolodge, the sky is streaked with dark blueclouds and a golden sunset.

Volunteers sit on the verandah of the lodge typing away ontheir macs. We are paired into cabana mates, given a tour of the compound andwalked through the basics of using a compost bathroom. Each cabana with itscathedral like ceilings made of pine, palm and guava leaves has 2-3 bedsshrouded in a mosquito net, a night table and a mirror.

This is day one.

Retrospective Nicaragua: Granada

2011-08-02T00:11:00.000-04:00

Approximately 32 miles due east of Managua, lies Granada's scenic landscape, an amalgamation of dry and humid forests that line the base of Mombacho, the local volcano. The city is located on the shores of Lake Nicaragua, and similar to its sister city of Leon, Granada is rich in colonial history, and has been cited as one of the first European cities established in mainland Americas.

I have hired Luiz for a half-day tour, a courtesy of the hotel (and sadly the only option for touring). We're in a compact sedan, a Nissan Versa or something similar and my driver, Luiz, is fit into the front seat like a giant in a clown car. As you can imagine from the picture at right, he would be better suited for playing offense with Michael Oher than folded into a bucket seat. But as I would learn later over coffee, the job market in Managua and neighboring cities is centered around limited industries, and mostly hospitality. If you were lucky enough to find a job, as Luiz had, you learned to make do with what the universe handed you.

We arrive in Granada, the sky overcast, making our way toward the national park for a scenic drive around Lake Nicaragua. The largest lake in Central America, Lake Nicaragua is freshwater and home to the Caribbean bull shark, as well as two volcanic islands, Ometepe and Zapatera. We were headed for the dock/marina to take a 25-minute boat tour and as Luiz takes the curves of dirt road, I am mesmerized by the sky. Deep thick clouds, swirled with shades of gray, are descending onto the glassy surface of the lake, cotton balls hovering above the stillness of the lake's waters.

I turn to Luiz, "You want me to go on a boat tour in that?"

He laughs, parking the car, encouraging me to look around.

I step outside and almost immediately feel the caress of a breeze, hauntingly so that it brings to mind a magical time when sirens called ancient pirates to their deaths at sea. I have no aspirations to follow in Elizabeth Swann's shoes, and beg off the fishermen's assurances that the storm will pass. This New Yorker, knows when to follow her gut and I thank my lucky stars I did, for just moments after leaving the marina, the sky erupts and unleashes one of the lake's reputable and unmanageable storms, with rain coming down in sheets, and the wind conjuring a sandstorm of mass proportions.

The storm lasts our whole journey back to the Plaza de la Independencia where the Cathedral is the main attraction. I wait patiently in the car, thankful for the A/C as we wait for the storm to blow over, for the rain to ease up so that I can make a dash inside.

The cathedral is minimalistic in design, there are no frescoes on the ceiling, no elaborate stained glass or rose windows for the sun to form a kaleidoscope of color on the hardwood floors. Instead the interior is a paler shade of its brightly colored yellow exterior, trimmed in a sun-bleached robin's egg blue.

Upon exiting the cathedral I look around the square, every one and every thing is recovering from the downpour. Even the volcano in the distance is obscured by the floating rainclouds and mist. Back in the car, Luiz drives around the square and a little deeper into town, stopping occasionally for me to feed my photography obsession:

Rainy streets of Granada

Entrance to walled garden

Colorful houses on the square

Green houses

Doorways - Granada

We stop for espresso at a local hotel. Chairs and tables are spread out across the courtyard, a small marching band performs on the street. At the cafe, Luiz tells me stories about his life in Managua, about his family and his daughter, about holidays and hardships. My mind strays for a moment to The Tiger's Wife, a book I have brought with me on this trip. There is a character that figures prominently in the story who reads coffee grinds, and it occurs to me that one can learn much about someone over a cup of coffee.

Our final destination is San Juan de Dios, an abandoned hospital that dates back to 1626. The structure is absolutely beautiful as you can see from the pictures below:

Luiz drives back the way we came with a side trip to Masaya City and a quick view of the infamous Mombacho skyline. It is almost 7 o'clock in the evening and as we drive along the highway, I notice a colorful strings of lights that remind me of Christmas trees decorating each of the roundabouts. I ask Luiz about them, and he tells me that this light display is a beautification project requested by President Ortega, for his love of rainbows:

Granada, and what I've discovered thus far about Managua, and its surrounding towns is the minimalistic throwback to a non-commercial, non-materialistic way of living, a simpler existence worth remembering.

Retrospective Nicaragua: Managua

2011-07-30T10:21:00.000-04:00

I didn't have many expectations for my trip to Nicaragua--I've found it to be a lost cause to wish and dream for things beyond your control. There is so much to love about travel and it's the unexpected moments that bring the most joy. The good things are magical in their purest form, and the not so good things, well they at the very least make for some really good stories. :)

Managua

The largest city in Nicaragua, Managua is also the capital. Like many other cities in Central America and the Caribbean, Managua's central business/tourist area is scattered with high rise hotels, shopping centers and industrial/corporate parks and surrounded by middle class to low income housing developments. I was not overly impressed by the city itself (what I saw of it) and truthfully did not feel compelled to stray very far from the hotel.

The Intercontinental Real Metrocentro was my home base for 2 days, and provided a welcoming relaxed environment to acclimate to a slower pace of life. It should be no surprise that outside the Empire State, and in some cases the US--time takes on a whole other persona, stepping back into its own natural rhythm.

The hotel was centrally located in the heart of the business district, conveniently attached to one of the local shopping centers. The staff were most charming and accommodating, arranging a driver to tour the city of Granada and acting as my go-between translator. The hotel amenities included access to the gym (and the resident massage therapist), (2) restaurants on-site--one of which featured live music during the evening hours, comfortable modern-style accommodations complete with wi-fi (if you had a laptop or tablet with you, of which I did not), and a beautiful courtyard with a freshwater swimming pool where I spent most of my time.

Intercontinental Real Metrocentro - MGA
View from my hotel room

Note: for anyone considering visiting Nicaragua, you should have a working/basic knowledge of Spanish (or at the very least a dictionary--it would have made my trip somewhat easier) to make the most of your visit. I was truly lucky that in all my interactions there was at least one person who was bi-lingual.

For when you visit Roma....

2011-07-26T20:14:00.001-04:00

One of my favorite cities in Italy is Rome...and it seems as if it's very popular this year. Here is a of recommendations and tips I used to plan my vacation. Hoping they can be useful to you as well.

Buy Roma Pass: (25 -27 €) - The Cards that offers you Transport and 2 Museums free of charge as well as Reductions for all other museums and major events.

Free admission to the first two sites and/or museums visited at your own choice
Reduced price for any other following sites
Reduced price for exhibitions and events that are part of the network
How to use it:

The overleaf form must be filled in with name, surname and validation date
It is validated when the first site/museum is visited
Direct access for the first 2 sites. From the 3rd site onwards please apply to the ticket office for discount
It must be produced along with your identity papers when required by the staff in charge
It will be valid for 3 days from the first entrance

Also includes free admission to ATAC urban buses and trans, Underground lines A and B, Metro trains: Roma - Lido, Roma - Viterbo (in the Roma - Sacrofano section), Roma - Pantano railways lines.

How to use it:
It comes only with Roma Pass
It is validated on the first trip by filling out the overleaf form with your name, surname and validation date
It must be produced on public transport along with Roma Pass and your identity papers when required by the staff in charge
It expires at midnight of the third day, from the first day of validation inclusive

The Kit includes:

Roma MAP: a map of the city illustrating the location of Local Tourist Offices, Underground stations, museums/sites of interest (address, phone number, buses and underground stations, timetables)
Roma Pass Guide: the complete list of museums/sites of interest that have joined the initiative
Roma News: the programme of events and tourist services that are eligible for discounts divided by area of interest: art, music, theatre, dance, entertainment and sightseeing tour

Autumn Antiques Fair (Weekends Only) - A magnificent Renaissance street leading from Piazza Navona to the Tiber; it repeats the line of the Via Recta, which in the imperial epoch linked ancient Via Lata and the Ponte di Nerone bridge.

Rome's Via dei Coronari is the venue for a fantastic antique fair that takes place every weekend in October. Situated in the heart of the Centro Storico in the oldest, narrowest streets in Rome, the fair is a Mecca for antique hunters from Italy and beyond. The atmosphere along the Via dei Coronari is superb - shops stay open late into the evening and you can wander and chat with experts or gaze in wonder at the profusion of extraordinary objects on show. From the Sun King's dressing table to furs, jewellery and ceramics, you're bound to find something that intrigues you.

Coronari actually means "rosary-makers" and Romans have lived off the visitors to the Caput Mundi for several centuries. First the visitors were pilgrims, now they are tourists. So although you'll find some fantastic antiques here during the fair, beware of buying souvenirs. The shopkeepers here have had generations of practice in selling knick-knacks to people who certainly never thought they'd want them!

By District

Campo de Fiori

A rectangular piazza near Piazza Navona in Rome, Italy, on the border of rione Parione and rione Regola. Campo dei Fiori, translated literally from Italian, means "field of flowers." The name was first given during the Middle Ages when the area was a meadow.

"Go hang in Campo de Fiori! (Tuesday nights special) It’s a must, house wine out in the piazza...La carbonara...der pallaro...Hosteria Costanza...I could go on...ENJOY!!!"

Trastevere

Botanical Garden Largo Cristina di Svezia 24 (daily 9-1hr before sunset).
Basilica di Santa Cecilia in Trastevere Piazza Santa Cecilia (daily 9-12.30 & 3-6). There are 9th century mosaics behind altar and there is an underground archeological site below. If you get there before noon, ring at the convent to the left of the church portico and ask to see Cavallini’s Last Judgement. Also if you time it right, you may hear the nuns practice their singing, absolutely angelic in sound.
Basilica di Santa Maria in Trastevere Piazza Santa Maria in Trastevere (daily 8am-8pm). Maybe this one is not so hidden, but it certainly doesn’t get the attention it deserves, considering its amazing decoration. Look for the spectacular mosaics in the apse, including some by Cavallini c. 1300.
Villa Farnesina, Via della Lungara (Mon-Sat 9am-1pm; e5). Originally built for Agostino Chigi, Europe’s richest man in 1500, the villa was purchased by the Farnese family and renamed. The interior is decorated with frescoes by Raphael, in the Loggia of Amore and Psyche, look out for the playful phallic imagery employing corn cobs (the first time they appear in art work after arriving in Europe from the New World).
If it’s not too hot, head up to the Janiculum Hill—follow Via Garibaldi. There are great views from the Fontana Paola (aka Fontanone) and from Piazza Garibaldi. Beyond Porta San Pancrazio sprawls the Villa Pamphilj, Rome’s largest park and a nice place to sprawl out with a book.

Jewish Ghetto

Walk from Via Del Teatro di Marcello, or from Via Arenula. . Connecting the Ghetto with the island is Rome's oldest bridge that is still in use, Ponte Fabricio. It was built in 62 BC and is now only a footbridge.

Piazza Navona

In the piazza of the same name stands the Sant’Eustachio Basilica, a church more than one thousand years old. On the top of the basilica, instead of the traditional cross, there is a white stag with a cross between its horns.

Esquiline

The Basilica of S. Croce is situated at the foot of the hill called Esquilino, in an area full of history and of artistic and cultural aspects.

Castel Sant’Angelo

Raphael painted restroom...Directions to find it, located above the courtyard with the Angel Sculpture that used to be on top of the Castle - ask Castel staff to direct you.

i libri

The Lion Bookshop & Cafe

Via dei Greci, 33/36

The oldest English bookshop in Rome has a vast selection of books.

vintage

Dress Agency Donna

Used designer clothes, bags, shoes jewelry and accessories can be found in excellent condition at this shop. Located at Via del Vantaggio, 1/b, Rome

mangia

Valzani Pasticceria

Via del Moro 37B - Bus 23, 280, 780 - Tram H/8

La Focaccia (Pizza e Café)

Via della Pace, 11, 00186 Roma, Rom (Lazio), Italy

Sant’Eustachio Il Caffé – Best Cappuccino Ever!

Piazza Sant’Eustachio 82

Baciamo le Mani 

Via Cardinale Marmaggi 12 (Trastevere) 
A Sicilian rosticceria serving panelle, pane ca’ meusa and sfincione, all for under €5 each.

Caffe Camerino 

Largo Arenula, 30 

This landmark espresso bar also serves prepared food cafeteria style at lunchtime. Cold pastas, salads, fish, and meat dishes are made with high quality ingredients. A full lunch will cost €8-10. Don’t miss the coffee!

Mizzica

 Via Catanzaro, 30/36 (Piazza Bologna) 

This cafe serves typical Sicilian snacks and desserts. The arancine (fried rice balls) are to die for. For €5 you can eat a pizzetta or arancina and a cannolo siciliano.

Mondo Arancina 

Via Flaminia, 42 (Piazza del Popolo) 

Via Marcantonio Colonna, 38 (Prati) 

“Arancina World” serves a huge array of arancine, ranging from the traditional ragu’ filled to the creative squid stuffed (ink and all). Grab a savory Sicilian bite followed by a typical sweet for under €5.

Ristorante Alla Rampa - Pasta Fagioli

Piazza Mignanelli 18

My mom and dad discovered this place on a tour of Rome in the early '90s. Very close to the Spanish Steps.

Sora Margherita

30 Piazza delle Cinque Scole, Jewish Ghetto - Accepts cash only

Pizzeria Ai Marmi

Viale Trastevere, 53-59

**NB addresses on viale trastevere can be confusing. Pizzeria Ai Marmi is just north of Piazza Mastai, near the cinema and the McDonald's. It is NOT at the corner of Viale Trastevere and San Francesco a Ripa (which is 52-56 Viale Trastevere)!

gelato

Giolitti

Via degli Uffici del Viccario, 40.

Yes, gelato in Rome is quite the experience at Giolitti's. Giolitti's has been there for almost the entire century (the last one, the 20th) and will be there for the rest of this one, too. It's north of the Pantheon and west of Piazza Colonna (the piazza that has Marcus Aurelius' column in it). Look for the green sign on the building. Try the riso or the champagne flavors. The bacio is nice, too. Giolitti. Don't eat gelato without him.

della Palma

Via della Maddalena 20

Near Giolitti is a contender for the crown of "best gelato in Roma". Della Palma doesn't have those ubiquitous sign cards telling you the flavors; they simply put a sample of the flavor item on top of the tin. For example the orange is topped with orange slices, the frutti di bosco with blueberries, wild strawberries and raspberries. Just figuring out what some of the items are is fun.

San Crispino

Via della Panetteria, 42

The New York Times declared San Crispino's the best gelato in Rome. You can decide for yourself. Their specialty is a honey vanilla flavor. Very sweet, quite heavenly. Near the Trevi Fountain.

Petrini Mauro - Gelato, 40 years in the making

Piazza dell'Alberone 16/A - Tel. + 39.6.786307

Gelateria del Teatro

Via di San Simone, 70

cioccolato

SAID Chocolate Lab & Cafe

Via Tiburtina

This gem is tucked away off a shopping street just south of the train station. The walk there is as urban as Rome gets, but it's most definitely worth the scavenger hunt to find. The cafe serves sweet and savory meals prepared with chocolate. The lab includes every iteration of baking and eating chocolate imaginable; splurge for the drinking cocoa to savor at the cafe, and then buy a bag of coco negro to take home.

wine bars

La Vineria - Campo Dei Fiori

Del Frate Wine Bar - Near Vatican

118 Via Degli Scipioni, Rome, 00192

Casa Bleve

Via del Teatro Valle 48-49

Transportation Bus: 8

wine tasting

International Wine Academy of Rome
Classes are taught by world-reknowned chefs and sommeliers bi-lingually. Great way to meet expatriates.

live music

Circolo degli Artisti

Via Casilina Vecchia 42 (Pigneto)

Getting there: Bus 81, 105, 412, 810/tram 5, 14, 19 .

Circolo degli Artisti is probably one of the best places in the city to catch original, quality live music. For example, you won’t see any cover bands haunting the rooms here where the emphasis is on an eclectic mix of original sounds—from hip hop to light pop—by up-and-coming bands. Cover charges for gigs run between 6 to 12€. The bar stays open from 9:30 PM to 3:30 AM Tuesday through Thursday; 9 PM to 4:30 AM on weekends.

"I especially like this place for its huge open area outside, replete with bars; it’s the prefect chill out spot."

Scholars Lounge Irish Pub

Via del Plebiscito, 101b (near Piazza Venezia)

Bus #60,#70,#80,#40,#64 from termini, ………

The cosy and charming Scholars Lounge is host to live music almost every night from 10:30 PM. If it’s not a cover band doing the Chili Peppers, Springsteen, or Oasis, it’s traditional Irish music, Reggae or karaoke (come on, you know you love it!). For the cost of whatever you want to drink, you can kick back with a congenial mix of locals and travelers and enjoy the vibe.

Goa

Via Libetta, 13

In trendy Ostiense, this is one of the best of Rome's fashionable clubs. Goa marries iron and steel with curvy, 1960s-style whites. The quality of its Italian and international DJs is generally above the competition. Ultrabeat on Thursdays, organised by top Italian DJ Claudio Coccoluto, brings the cream of Europe's electronic music DJs to Rome.

transportation

I walked almost every where, and treated myself to a Scooter Tour (highly recommend it if you can splurge; tell Annie I sent you!) but if you need to know about public transport:

The Metro is the fastest way to get around Rome's clogged streets. Trains run daily from 5:30 a.m. to 11:30 p.m. Tickets must be purchased in advance from tabacchi (tobacco shops, most of which display a sign with a white T on a brown background). They are also sold at many newsstands and in vending machines at all stations. Considering the expense of getting around by taxi, the transit system is an excellent value. You can purchase single ride tickets for 1€ ($1.20), an unlimited day pass for 4€ ($4.85), a 3 day pass for 11€ ($13.30), or a weekly pass for 16€ ($19.40) (www.metroroma.it).

The same tickets are valid for Rome's network of buses and trams. You can obtain a complete transit map with all the routes at the office of ATAC (Azienda Tramvie e Autobus del Comune di Roma, 6 4695 2087, www.atac.roma.it), next to the Stazione Termini at 59 Via Volturno (800 431 784 for information).

Less is more, or is it?

2011-07-18T22:45:00.000-04:00

New York in the summertime is far from easy and in many ways is both a blessing and a curse. These last few days since I've been back have been bittersweet, and suffocating in a whole other way--partly because of the heat but mostly because of the economic climate that is New York. I had forgotten how fast money goes in this city! I know that may sound absurd to some but when you're in the groove of your every day you don't necessarily notice the subtle changes, like the extra $.10 tacked onto your cup of coffee or the increase in milk prices (unless of course you have a family with kids)...and the biggest groan most people can relate to is the unexpected rent hike.

City living is all about making compromises, and I find that one of the biggest ones is convenience over money... whether that's about living spaces (walk-up or doorman, outdoor space or extra closet space) or something else and ultimately as we enter the rat race, it's hard not to get settled into a rhythm that may or may not be good for you.

It's been quite sometime since I vacationed in a location where the cost of living is significantly lower than it is here in the Big Apple. And I nearly had a cow when I realized how much I've spent on food (aka lunch and dinner) since my return from Nicaragua.I can't stress enough that living in NYC is brutally expensive. Nothing new I realize, but after 10 days in Nicaragua watching people manage on next to nothing (sometimes by choice, sometimes by circumstance), I was reminded about the minimalist philosophy of less is more.

Less is more, and progress is another thing entirely. The concept of believing that the world can better itself in terms of science, technology, modernization, liberty, democracy, quality of life. The debate of its purpose is not something that comes up in common conversations, or even in heated debates after one too many Jack'n Gingers. And had I not been under duress before this trip, I'm not sure if I would have been as affected by progress and its present effect on modern society. Or absence in modern day Nicaragua.

In fact, I find myself caught in a careful reflection wondering not what progress has taught us but rather what it's stolen from us.What have we sacrificed for this thing called progress?

Karmic disposition? Rock steady.

2011-07-18T21:54:00.000-04:00

I am so excited still high off a fantastic holiday in Nicaragua, I came home to find out an article I submitted to the Huffington Post had been selected for publishing. I'm happy to share it with you here, this anecdotal post is a follow-up to my participation in a company-wide Monster Help Day. The story is about hope and the treasures a piano brings to children at the Ronald McDonald House. Check it out on HP Impact.

Resolution Red....

2011-07-08T00:09:00.000-04:00

because of its equal parts of boldness and warmth.

because these last few weeks of Brooklyn blood boiling over, have taught me how strong I can be with words written passionately and with conviction.

Brand New - 2011 Hyundai Santa Fe

for prosperity and joy, happiness

for hearts healed behind closed doors

because its the color of extroverts (which in this case resonates in more ways than one)

for courage and fire,

an adventurous spirit

Red, not quite candy apple or fire engine, warmer than a pin-up S.W.A.K.

Sonoran like the mesas in a desert landscape.

Balancing act

2011-07-05T07:35:00.000-04:00

I should be excited for my trip but instead I'm completely freaked out and filled with trepidation and dare I say it, fear. I began planning this yoga/surf/volunteer retreat in early March--and short of a day tacked onto a long weekend, have not had a real vacation since Christmas. After the brow beaten winter we had (I've never shoveled so much in my entire life!) and the nonstop flow of projects at work, this has been my beacon. I've held onto the challenge of surfing, the daily yoga and give back to the community like a talisman, to replenish my soul. The uncertainties of the last few weeks mainly sparked from the debacle with the car, has left me raw. And now I need this retreat more than ever.

The retreat is hosted by Holly Beck at an ecolodge on the Western Coast of Nicaragua. Nicaragua is a Central American nation located south of Honduras and just north of Costa Rica, and the mere mention of the country as a destination raises eyebrows from family, friends and strangers. It's not a country on my bucket list, nor is it one I ever thought to even consider visiting. I'm by no means an adventure-seeker of extremes, but there was something about Holly's program, Suave Dulce that appealed to me. (Check out the video that sold me here.) I'd like to think it was the mix of soul searching and exercise--you spend mornings learning to surf, afternoons in yoga practice and volunteering within the local community--the practice of giving back to others, restoring balance to yourself, readjusting the karmic nature of things. I've been swimming in preparation, my own self-induced training circuit, with a yoga class or two in between; I'm ready as I'll ever be and am looking forward to where this journey will lead me.

Happy Birthday America!

2011-07-04T20:27:00.000-04:00

Saturday drive to Greenwich was refreshing, the road clear and free of traffic. I made it to Claudia & George's with time for a beverage and reintroduction to the felines. By 6pm we were picnicking in Binney Park in Old Greenwich, to the right of the pond and far enough away from the bandstand to carry a conversation and have an unobstructed view of the town's firework display. As I've always spent Independence Day in and around the city, watching the fireworks on the East River, this enclave of celebration was a pleasant change, and relaxing way to enjoy the holiday. Of course, the celebrity sighting of famed photographer, Nigel Barker (even more handsome in person) and his family certainly lent to the mystique.

Hyundai, there are ANTS in my car!

2011-06-30T17:16:00.000-04:00

June 2011

6/11: Purchased vehicle from Towne Hyundai in Denville, NJ – note, lot is surrounded by trees and grass. Returned late in the evening and parked car in driveway. Went to bed.
6/12: Went outside to check out my new purchase, took photos posted to Facebook. I noticed then there were 1-2 ants on the exterior of the vehicle. I dismissed this occurrence to the heat and the car being white, and the ants more noticeable. Over the course of the next week I notice the ever presence of ants on the exterior.
6/17: Return from work, air out the car and notice ant on dashboard.
6/18: Driving to Staten Island I see 1-2 ants in the interior of the vehicle, and like anyone with an aversion to insects freak out and attempt to kill them (smack down on the dash). Not the smartest thing to do while driving on the bridge but I pulled over when I could to inspect the Santa Fe. More ants, not your garden variety type, but large sized carpenter ants (see below).

Carpenter Ants

Similar to those found in my car.

6/19: Email sent to dealer first thing (they are closed on Sundays, and no redirection on VM). Went to Home Depot to get ant killing supplies, returned home to spray driveway and surrounding areas as a precaution—but no ants are apparent in the garden or surrounding areas. This leads me to believe that the nest was in the vehicle when I purchased it; I can’t imagine that the ants nested and reproduced a colony in the 24 hours it was in my driveway.
6/19: Received email response from my sales contact instructing me to contact him on Monday afternoon. I took photos and sent a link ahead of time: https://picasaweb.google.com/apreziotti/Ants?authkey=Gv1sRgCMP2lePSrb6Bbw&feat=directlink
6/20: Spoke with Sean Cullen/Towne Hyundai in early afternoon and inquired about my options and how the dealership would assist with the insect problem. I definitely did not have his undivided attention, Sean said he asked his service manager and neither of them had heard of such a thing. They suggested fumigation but did not recommend it b/c of the odor effect: “if the car smells afterward you’re going to want to trade it in, and then it’s officially used and the trade in value is way less than what you paid…”. I asked Sean if there were any other options to consider, and he said he would get back to me. That was at 1:20pm EST 6/20.
6/20 - Reached out to AOL Autos /Autoblog editors for assistance; direct messaged @EdmundLive for advice
6/21 @1:30PM: (24 hours later) I call the dealership to follow-up:

Mr. Cullen is not available, he has the day off.
Marybeth Andrikinich is not available, she has the day off.
I ask to speak with the General Manager of the Dealership: Soloman Faizi, he is on vacation.
I ask for someone, whoever it is that might be covering for him while he is out, the head of sales etcetera. The receptionist connects me to another person (Jessica) who listens to my story, takes down my name and # and assures me that “Christopher” the sales manager in question will return my phone call upon his return.
It is now 3pm and I’ve received no response.

6/22 - Posted complaint/query to Facebook: Hyundai/Discover Hyundai pages :

6/22 - Tweeted to @Hyundai; @OrlandoHyundai
6/22, 9AM - Sent email to Mr. Cullen/Mary Beth requesting an update of the situation
6/22, 9:30AM - Submitted complaint to PR dept of HyundaiUSA through website: http://www.hyundaiusa.com/contact-us-thanks.aspx
6/22, 9:30AM - Submitted direct email to consumeraffairs@hmausa.com ||
(800) 633-5151 || Mon - Fri, 5:00 am - 6:00 pm PST
6/22,10:30AM - Received immediate response from Consumer Affairs via emai:

"Thank you for contacting Hyundai Motor America. We are sorry to learn of the ant concern you are experiencing in your brand new 2011 Hyundai Santa Fe and that you have not received contact from Towne Hyundai.

We have contacted Towne Hyundai and have spoken with Eddy Pagan, the Sales Manager, to address your concern. Eddy confirmed that the dealership will be more than happy to resolve this matter to your satisfaction. Eddy advised that the Service Department will be attempting to contact you today, June 22, 2011, to schedule an appointment for you to bring your Santa Fe to the dealership. Additionally, Towne Hyundai will be providing you with a loaner vehicle until this matter has been resolved.

We continually work with our dealerships to promote positive customer experiences in all aspects of dealership interactions. Again, we apologize that you did not receive contact from Towne Hyundai. We appreciate your feedback; the information you provided helps us to better understand our customers’ experiences and serves in the development of future dealership guidelines. We will be sure to bring this concern to the attention of Towne Hyundai's General Manager.

We would like to take this opportunity to thank you for the compliments you have shared with us about your Santa Fe. We are committed to producing quality vehicles with our customers in mind. Your satisfaction is our priority. We are confident that once this matter is resolved, you will enjoy your Santa Fe for many miles to come.

We have documented your complaint as Case # 4443349. Please reference your Case # if we can be of any additional assistance.

Thank you for contacting Hyundai Motor America."

6/22, 1PM - First correspondence, 48 hours later from Towne Hyundai dealership, response received from Mr. Cullen (4) hours after my email that day: "I appologize Andrea I was off yesterday so that is why you havn't heard back from me. I am waiting for my service manager to give me an update on a loaner vehicle for you. As of right now the next available loaner car that we have is July 7 or 8th... I'm trying to get you one sooner though. I appreciate your patience while I do what I can to help you. How are the traps working?"
6/23 - Submitted follow-up email to Consumer Affairs re: inconsistency in proposed timing.
6/23 - Received voicemail from Chris Short, service manager alerting of coordination to accommodate.
6/23 - Received direct response call from internet sales manager, Mr. Cullen; spoke in-person re: next steps to be taken by Towne Hyundai to resolve issue including removal of seats and sweep of carpet area.
6/23 - Called Towne Hyundai in response to Chris Short's message, left a VM
6/24 - Received correspondence from Consumer Affairs re: missed connection.
6/24, 3:15PM - Left 2nd VM message for Chris Short
6/24, 3:50PM - Received call back from Chris Short

(new development)There was a White Hyundai Santa Fe on the lot with ants on it that was supposed to have been sent to another dealer for inspection; unfortunately the person who identified it as such was not in the office the day they (may have) sold the car to me.
Chris/Hyundai has arranged for a Loaner Vehicle for the duration of the de-infestation, may take 2 days make take a few weeks.
The car will be gutted down to the frame and treated to remove the nest and any sign of the ants. Note: Ants do not come out of hiding when it is wet/humid, so they may have not appeared in recent days.
If the situation cannot be rectified they (Sales & Service) will work to locate another vehicle without any penalty to me.
instructions to drop-off Hyundai Santa Fe after 8AM on Saturday 6/25. Key to loaner will be located in Chris Short’s drawer.

6/24, 4:25PM - Posted grievance to my personal Facebook page.

https://www.facebook.com/preziotti1/posts/10150218939873853

6/25, 8AM - Drafted and sent follow-up email to Hyundai USA re: updated correspondence and new development/information as pertains to my case.

(new development)There was a White Hyundai Santa Fe on the lot with ants on it that was supposed to have been sent to another dealer for inspection; unfortunately the person who identified it as such was not in the office the day they (may have) sold the car to me.
Reasonable request made of Hyundai to provision me with a replacement vehicle.

6/25, 10AM - Dropped off Hyundai Santa Fe to Towne Hyundai; picked up loaner vehicle from CSR Brian Drake.

Requested that no installations/additional services be performed until ant infestation has been corrected.

6/25, 3PM - Received acknowledgement from Hyundai USA; assigned regional representative to investigate further.

“We have assigned your case to our regional office, which works closely with our dealerships. Our regional personnel will work with Towne Hyundai in order to address your concerns and request for a new vehicle. You can expect to be contacted by the Hyundai Customer Connect Center or the dealership within 3 business days with an update to your case.”
Andrea to reach out if no contact received by Wednesday, June 29th.

6/27, Monday - No contact from Towne Hyundai or Hyundai USA
6/28, Tuesday - No contact from Towne Hyundai or Hyundai USA
6/29, Wednesday - Received contact from Hyundai USA that request for a new car/trade-in has been denied, interesting that they told me they were "unable to buy back your 2011 Hyundai Sonata" that would be the make of the loaner not the car I own.

Responded with dissatisfaction and intent to submit complaint with the Better Business Bureau of NJ and consumer news outlets re: unimpressive Customer Service and vague refusal/updates to correct the situation.

6/29, PM - Submitted query for legal advice
6/30, AM - Submitted online query to Tom and Ray Magliozzi of Car Talk
6/30, 8AM - Submitted similar query to Quentin’s Friends
6/30, 8AM - Called Towne Hyundai, no answer and no way to access VM
6/30, 11:35AM - Called Towne Hyundai, asked to be transferred to Service Dept., disconnected
6/30, 11:38AM - Called Towne Hyundai again, all service managers were busy assisting other clients; transferred to VM for Chris Short to leave a message inquiring of a status update for my vehicle. Also requested that 7/2 service appointment for LoJack installation be cancelled until ant infestation resolved.
6/30, 12:07PM - Spoke with Chris Short of Service Center, Towne Hyundai:

Underneath the carpet and seats were a ton of ants all dead, we vaccumed and inspected the interior trim, vents, dashboard; a/c and heating system; filter and intake, found leaves, no foods, bound wood, evidence of creating a nest, trails of wood throughout the interior. nothing in the door panels, engine bay, a divet in the floor panel had a whole pile of ants. did not use spray and/or poison. We’ve inspected the car today and yesterday, and have not seen a live insect since.
When asked about other vehicle that exhibited ants did not write the VIN # down and the car has since disappeared, off to another dealership for inspection.
Even the mechanics had to be convinced, as they are “skiivy about insects/ants”
Recommendation to the sales team to not park their car on the hills, right now there are 20 or so trucks parked there, and its possible they parked on top of an ant hill.
Lojack and other has already been installed

6/30, 12:32PM - Called Towne Hyundai

Requested to speak with Mr. Cullen, he was unavailable
Asked to speak with another manager, transferred to Hector Colon. Explained that I would not be accepting the returned vehicle, and that the only acceptable response would be a brand new vehicle or a return for a full refund. He informed me that there was nothing that he could do and suggested I speak with the head of sales, Rob Mariana or Eddy Pagan.
I agreed that he should have either one return my call; I also instructed him to put this request in dispute.

6/30, 12:38PM - Called American Express to put a stop payment on my $3k deposit, opened case for investigation re: dissatisfied purchase due to ant infestation.
6/30, 1:02PM - Received call from Eddy Pagan to discuss current status of the situation. He suggests my SUV now clear of dead ants is in "perfect condition" and they have done all that they can to correct this matter.

I informed him that I honestly would not feel comfortable driving a car that had been infested with ants and did not find his answer acceptable. After all he had the easy job of removing all the dead ants because I killed them while the dealership neglected to return my phone calls. I informed that I had purchased a a new car b/c I wanted a clear and free driving experience, with no stress. This whole experience has been beyond stressful.
Mr. Pagan then responded with "I don't mean to be insympathetic to your needs, I've bought cars before working at a dealership and I totally understand your discomfort. The Santa Fe as far as I can tell is in excellent condition for use."
I reminded him of the lack of customer service provided during the incident and he "doesn't dispute" my feelings but that it was irrelevant now that the ants were dead and gone.
I then reiterated that I found all of this unacceptable, that I would not be accepting the returned vehicle, and that the only acceptable response would be a brand new vehicle or a return for a full refund.
I also mentioned that I would be reporting the dealership to the BBB and had consulted a lawyer on next steps; at which point he recommended that I speak to the GM of the dealership, and to which I gladly accepted to do so.
Eddy Pagan confirmed my contact information and then said that he would be in touch with the GM, Solomon Faizi and have him get back to me promptly.

6/30, 2:03PM - Received email from Chris Short with current "clean" images of the vehicle and an informal assessment of vehicle status.

Responded at 4:46PM with an email and VM request for a full written assessment of the work performed with your findings, documented by Towne Hyundai. If you would please send them via post (Mr. Cullen should have my information on file) as well as attached in an email. It would be most appreciated.

6/30, 2:05PM - Received VM from Chris Short alerting me that the "car has been put back together, complete with all accessories and the anti-theft installation module".

Note all of which I asked not be installed in the vehicle until a resolution had been reached.

6/30, 4:53PM - 4 hours later still no word from Solomon Faizi, GM.
6/30, 5:07PM - Received email from Chris Short alerting me that the vehicle was ready for pick up and that the invoice with detailed information about the service and installation would be available at that time: "When you pick up your car tonight there will be an invoice on our letter head noting what wasdone. the technicians and all the add on items we installed. It's probably what your looking for. If there is more we can do just let me know."

Responded with follow up email alerting him that I would not be picking up the said vehicle and reiterated request to send the file via/email and/or fax and post.

6/30, 5:27 - Received phone call from Eddy Pagan, he had spoken to the GM (funny I thought I was getting a personal phone call from Mr. Faizi not a relayed message) and that there was nothing left for them to do, that unfortunately "no car was available for me on the lot"(AP: so does that mean they considered giving me a new car and then realized they could not do so without available inventory?)

He then told me that my car had been reassembled and was ready for pick-up; that I would need to return the loaner car and retrieve my car in the morning (Friday 7/1). I said that was not possible and it was unacceptable to assume that I would be retrieving an imperfect car. He reiterated that the car was in perfect condition; and there was nothing more they could do.

I reminded him that the only reason there was nothing more to do was because I cured the car without their assistance, and now with no proof of "live ants" the vehicle in your eye is now "in perfect condition".

He told me that "I could not return a car because of unsatisfactory customer service" and I responded that in fact it was the unsatisfactory customer service that has placed us in this very predicament. If his team had followed up in a timely manner and had kept me abreast of the situation, had pushed harder to make my dissatisfaction a priority, I would not have had to do all the legwork that in fact was Towne Hyundai's responsibility. In all likelihood the ants occupied the car while on YOUR (THEIR) lot, and your service manager is in agreement. Mr. Pagan even then refused to take any responsibility that the ant infestation occurred on their premises.

At that moment I made a point of reminding Mr. Pagan that no one responded to my inquiry within the first 48 hours and that it took a formal complaint with Hyundai HQ to incite any kind of reaction; and more pointedly when I reported to Hyundai that I had not yet been contacted by Towne Hyundai they informed me that you, Mr. Pagan had been contacted (AP: I have proof of this in an email thread from Hyundai directly) and assured them of expediting contact. Contact of which took another 24 hours.

Mr. Pagan feigned knowing anything and then miraculously remembered Hyundai HQ reaching out, "then I got on it, and talked to Sean about the instance, and knew we had to take care of this ASAP."

(AP: ASAP? This is now 4 days after my initial contact with sales manager, Mr. Cullen; 4 days in which I had already attempted to combat the situation on my own; 4 days of distress and worry of what to do next; 4 days of consulting every one and their mother for advice on how something like this could happen to a BRAND NEW CAR.)

I hit the proverbial roof...I am not an angry person but I made a point to reiterate everything once more and state again that I would not be picking up the car, that there decision was unacceptable, that I would like to speak directly to the General Manager. Mr. Pagan hemmed and hawed, "Solomon is a busy man and runs 3 dealerships, I ran interference so that you would have an answer sooner rather than later"--(AP: Right so now that my situation is an inconvenience to you, because Chris Short in an email that came during this conversation stated "Please keep me informed as I have customers waiting for loaners and I need them urgently"; now you're choosing to expedite the situation.)

That's when I interrupted him in mid-sentence and informed him that moving forward I would not talk to anyone except the general manager, Solomon Faizi.

(AP: I won't lie, my temperature has exceeded its normal level and I'm taking a break from this saga today, right now as it were at 6:30PM on 6/30. And will pick it up again tomorrow, fair readers.)

6/30, 7:30PM - Received call from service director, Michael Alston about my dissatisfaction with the service provided. (AP: I had finally left work at the point, and had treated myself to a gelato from Amorino, the bliss of which disappeared after this call.)

I calmly asked him if he had the authority to grant me a new car or a full refund, and he said no. To which I calmly replied with a request to speak with whoever it was at Towne Hyundai, most certainly the GM, Solomon Faizi, who could.
(AP: I'm really amazed that in the first 4 days I received hardly any feedback and/or call backs re: the ants issue, and NOW that I'm loudly voicing my dissatisfaction everyone at Towne seems to have my phone #.)

July 2011

7/1, 7:00AM - Query submitted to FOX Shame on You! w/ Arnold Diaz
7/1, 7:05AM - Query submitted to Help Me Howard, WPIX
7/1, 7:10AM - Query submitted to 7 On Your Side
7/1, 8:30AM - News query submitted to Denville Reporter, Denville Rockaway This Week, Patch: Morris Township/Morris Plains
7/1, 9:15 AM - Check my VM at work, and wonder upon wonder Solomon Faizi, General Manager of Towne Hyundai has actually called and left a message (@8:02PM, Thursday 6/30) and has asked that I call him back. (AP: Which I will do this morning, so stay tuned.)
7/1, 11:07AM - Received inquiry response from editor of Patch: Morris County.
7/1, 11:15AM - Received call from Solomon Faizi, General Manager of Towne Hyundai, and we discussed the current situation and lack of communication from his dealership with regard to my ant infestation problem. He said that this was the first time he had heard of the ant infestation problem, as he has been on vacation. I told him that I have documented all communication or lack thereof on this blog; and he seemed unfazed by the "technicalities of documentation" that "dealing with a disgruntled client, in a civil manner" was his concern.

He asked why I had come out to NJ to buy my car and I candidly told him that Ms. Andrikanich sounded so genuine and that seemed to correspond with all the positive feedback I had read on Edmunds, Yelp, Dealerrate, etc. that I didn't mind driving long distance to purchase a car.
Mr. Faizi then asked me what I wanted, and I said that I wanted a replacement vehicle, a brand new 2011 Hyundai Santa Fe GLS AWD, which he has verbally agreed to give me
I asked for him to provide proof in writing to this agreement (AP: He was offended that I would not take him at his word, and would not agree to a written agreement. Given the current circumstances I don't know how he is more offended than I am.)
We agreed that I would go to the Towne Hyundai dealership in the morning, Saturday July 2nd, (3) weeks to the day of my original purchase where Mr. Pagan and Mr. Cullen would work on providing me with a brand new 2011 Hyundai Santa Fe GLS AWD, covering all necessary paperwork transitions, and fees with no penalty to me.

(AP: Truth be told, I am very nervous about not having a written commitment from Towne Hyundai--which as it were is an independently-owned dealer and does not fall under Hyundai Motor USA--or from Solomon Faizi. I am VERY HESITANT that this is an opportunity for a bait and switch--loaner vehicle for my existing vehicle--on their part and absolutely do not want to go by myself. Any volunteers?)

7/1, 11:34AM - Reached out to Towne Hyundai to speak with Mr. Pagan about coordinating for tomorrow's meeting to replace my ant infested vehicle. He was unavailable, I left a VM.

(AP: I will be calling back, every hour on the hour until I can get a written email confirmation from him about the verbal agreement to replace my vehicle tomorrow morning.)

7/1, 12:01 - Received DM from @EdmundsLive : "You can rate & write a review of Towne Hyundai on our site: http://ow.ly/5uTbX I'm passing this story to our editorial team"
7/1, 12:09 - Received call from Ms. Basso at "7 On Your Side" with interest in the story, was instructed to get a promise in writing, and reach out to her directly should Towne Hyundai refuse to uphold verbal agreement.
7/1, 12:48PM -Reached out to Towne Hyundai to speak with Mr. Pagan about coordinating for tomorrow's meeting as per my conversation with Solomon Faizi earlier today. Mr. Pagan informed me that Towne Hyundai currently does not have an adequate replacement vehicle available on the lot. He said that he would call Solomon, to alert him and get back to me.
7/1, 2:07PM - Followed up with Mr. Pagan of Towne Hyundai, he was not available; left a message.
7/1, 5:05PM - Followed up with Mr. Pagan of Towne Hyundai. He told me that he spoke with Mr. Faizi and alerted him that the vehicle in question was not available in Towne Hyundai's current inventory.

Mr. Pagan then told me that he was calling around to other Hyundai dealerships to locate a 2011 Hyundai Santa Fe GLS AWD to be brought to their dealership as a replacement vehicle.
I then informed/confirmed with Mr. Pagan that I would not be coming to the dealership tomorrow morning, and in turn keeping the loaner vehicle until a replacement had been located. Mr. Pagan agreed: "I did not expect you to come into the dealership without a confirmed replacement available."

Mr. Pagan assured me that he would continue to work on locating a replacement vehicle and that he would be in touch tomorrow by phone.

(AP: Signing off tonight, will report back in the morning, and then some until this is resolved. Thank you as always for your support and encouragement.)

7/2, 1:29PM - Called Towne Hyundai to connect with Eddy Pagan on status of locating a replacement vehicle for my 2011 Hyundai Santa Fe GLS AWD. He was not available, so I left a message asking him to call me back with any new information, and casually suggested my replacement vehicle not be white given recent luck. (AP: Silly perhaps, but I think we can all agree not entirely unreasonable given this whole situation.)
7/4, Submitted purchase experience survey to Hyundai

(AP: The weekend was quiet, with little to no contact from Towne Hyundai since Eddie/Eddy and I spoke on Friday. Will try for a written agreement of some sort, even if just an email confirming the conversation--speaking with Joe about that today--and hoping for an immediate resolution.)

7/5, 10:50AM - Placed call to Towne Hyundai to inquire on the status of my replacement vehicle; left message for Eddie/Eddy Pagan. Receptionist did note that Mr. Pagan normally does not arrive until 12pm.
7/5, 1:12PM - Placed follow-up call with Towne Hyundai to speak with Eddie/Eddy Pagan, about my replacement vehicle. The receptionist informed me that Mr. Pagan is out today; Katie redirected me to Chris ~~Talluk/Tulic~~ Tulloch who did not pick up my call.
7/5, 1:15PM - Called Towne Hyundai again, Katie placed me on hold while checking on Mr. Tulloch's availability--he was with another customer, took down my work # and said that he would return my phone call.
7/5, 1:24PM - Received VM from Christopher Tulloch, Internet Sales Manager with Towne Hyundai, who has been assigned to my case. Requested that I ring him back directly on his personal cell phone. (AP: I don't want to be too hopeful but a personal cell phone # is a good sign, no?)
7/5, 1:40PM - Returned call to Christopher Tulloch, Internet Sales Manager with Towne Hyundai:

He confirmed that he had been assigned to my situation last week and that after working with the ownership and corporate office, I had been approved for a replacement vehicle. Towne Hyundai had been in the process of locating dealerships within the area; and was required to get the "green light" from me before officially moving forward with the fulfillment process (which according to him would take "a couple of days").
He went so far as to assure that all legalities, including transfer of registration, and the installation of all optional accessories and anti-theft components would be taken care of at no cost to me. And then miraculously he even inquired if I had any color preferences.
Mr. Tulloch then said I should have received an email (text is excerpted below) from my original sales manager, Mr. Cullen, that would refer to this resolution. Mr. Tulloch then apologized for Mr. Cullen's previous lack of response as he had been directed by ownership to disengage until a resolution could be reached.

Dear Andrea XXX,

Hello Andrea... sorry I've been a little bit of a stranger but my ownership asked me to stay out of the situation until we could come up with a resolution that would be serve you. So obviously since you are getting an email from me we have come up with one. Christopher Tulloch left you a message a few minutes ago and left his cell phone number for you to call him at your convenience. I hope you had a great 4th of July and look forward to talking with you soon.

Respectfully, Sean Cullen
Received 7/5 @ 1:39PM

(AP: This all still seems unreal and until I have the physical vehicle in my possession, I will absolutely question the reality of the situation. I'm still in a fuzzy hazy shock, though when that clears I should probably let them know of my vacation plans, no?)

7/5, 2:22PM - Responded to Mr. Cullen's email reviewing what had transpired (excerpt below) and inquiring on next steps

I received Christopher's voicemail, and just spoke with him directly. He confirmed that I have been approved for a replacement vehicle, and I have given him the green light as it were to move forward with the replacement transfer.
We also discussed that all transition paperwork (registration, etc.) as well as accessories and LoJack installation would be transferred to the new vehicle at no cost /penalty to me.
I offered to alert GEICO of the transfer.
I then inquired of an estimated date for when the vehicle would be available.
(AP: Note that I did include Mr. Tulloch on the email string but his email bounced back.)

7/5, 2:43PM - Received confirmation from Hyundai for submission of my purchase review survey.

(AP: My favorite line: "Because customer satisfaction is our top priority, we have forwarded your suggestion regarding additional sales training to the personnel responsible for product and dealership training.")

7/5, 5:52PM - Received email from Mr. Cullen informing me that a replacement vehicle in my first choice configuration had been found: a brand new 2011 Hyundai Santa Fe GLS AWD Sonoran Red w/Beige Interior.

Mr. Cullen said that the car would be picked up on either Wednesday or Thursday, and he was still figuring out components and the LoJack installation.

7/5, 6:24PM - Responded to Mr. Cullen's email, inquired if personal effects in ant-infested car would be accessible to retrieve.

Also inquired if delivery date would be sometime next week.

7/5, 7:12PM - Received email from Mr. Cullen

All changes can be made when you pick up the (ant free) vehicle. I'll keep you in the loop regarding the best day and time to pick it up after the lo jack has been installed. Feel free to call me with any questions in the mean time.

7/6, 10:18AM - Reached out to Mr. Cullen re: delivery date of replacement vehicle.

For full transparency, I alerted Mr. Cullen of my vacation departure date and time.
He is going to try and arrange for the replacement vehicle to be ready for pick up by tomorrow evening.

7/7, 11:00PM - Success! I'm happy to report Towne Hyundai came through with a brand new Hyundai Santa Fe. The transition was quick and painless, I was able to retrieve my personal belongings from the previous model and with assistance from my dear friend Michael Fonte (who kindly joined me this evening) we inspected the car from top to bottom to ensure all things were on the up and up. So looking forward to driving it in style upon my return!

(AP: What this means, is that the Sonoran Red 2011 Hyundai Santa Fe FLS AWD pictured below is now in my driveway and will be there when I return.)

7/18 - I returned from holiday early Monday morning, absolutely relaxed from a week in Nicaragua and gleefully excited to find my clean and ant-free Sonoran Red Hyundai Santa Fe parked in my driveway. I thank my lucky stars that this story has had a happy ending. Thank you to everyone for all your support during this whole debacle, and to Towne Hyundai for finally coming through with acceptable customer service.

it's a monster mental health day!

2011-05-20T12:39:00.000-04:00

Today is no ordinary day, it's a monster help day where 3000+ employees around the globe donate time to those who need it most. Helping people is part of our company DNA--and volunteering as a collective whole solidifies our contribution to the greater good, and to ourselves.

Yesterday the events team held a pep rally to cheer and encourage full participation in today's events. Here in NY, employees will be deployed to half a dozen key volunteer events with the bulk of employees icing 25,000+ cupcakes in Grand Central Terminal's Vanderbilt Hall to raise money for the American Cancer Society. I'll be joining a smaller team at the Ronald McDonald House, for an afternoon of spring cleaning and gift giving.

I haven't given much thought to where I am going today, and outside the odd commercial about Ronald McDonald, have not the slightest idea of the level of support they provide to the families and children that are guests*. It's a bittersweet confession, not knowing much about the organization I am planning to donate my time to, I wasn't always so complacent (if that's even the right word) about how I spent my volunteering time. In fact, I used to be fairly active on the volunteering circuit, regularly maintaining my accounts with Idealist and Volunteer Match and dedicating time to a few organizations like: Heartshare, DIFFA, Writegirl and Make-a-Wish.

In a lot of ways I'd like to think that Monster Help Day is really a Monster Mental Health Day--the act of giving back seemingly brings out the best in everyone. Some of the most amazing and creative people volunteer, do you?

*Also known as House Guests refer to the families who come to a certain city (in this instance NYC) for one of their loved ones (usually a child under the age of 22) to undergo treatment for cancer.

dreamscapes

2011-04-07T21:19:00.000-04:00

What is it about being sick (in this case with a sinus infection/cold/cough) that makes you dream so vividly, almost frighteningly so. In a span of 6 hours I went from whimsical and positively light reverie to trolling the depths of despair and darkness.

late night

The beauty of a wheat field. (c) http://planetoddity.com/

I am in a deep sleep and the lulled scent of fresh flowers, of life, wakes me. I am in a building cut in half, like a diorama where anyone passing on the outside can see in even though the surrounding streets are empty. There is a cool breeze the type that is awaken by a mid-summer day and curls around your skin like silk beckoning you to begin the day. There…here it is twilight in this room where I’ve been sleeping. No larger than a broom closet, and a male voice asks why I am sleeping in such small quarters, but I do not feel the size of the room, only peace. Untangling tan legs from crumpled white sheets I walk towards the window. A large plate glass that reminds me of the loft scene in Ghost; nearby I hear the mewing of a cat and can vaguely see the shadow of one on the fire escape. I reach around the window, the wall to pick the kitten up, his fur is soft and blue gray and he is comforted by my touch. Just beyond the window there is an empty lot and I can see 2 figures: a man and his daughter. The child is wearing a pink dress, her dark hair cut in a pageboy; she laughs and waves to me, I smile and wave back. I blink, the scenery changes. Now there is a meadow with a small lake bordered by dark gray cobblestones slick with moisture, the grass is yellow green and surrounded by wheat flax rising on the hills. It reminds me of the rolling leas and mountains on the drive to Lake Tahoe with Mon Frite. To the left there is a playground shaded by a large oak tree that appears to be growing adjacent to my building, almost as if the building and tree are one. There is a barn, actually no a monkey bar set with a yellow thatched roof, the oak branches sway side to side and I feel content, blissful even. And when I wake it is 2AM.

# # #

early morning

We are in a courtroom. I am dressed in a simple black dress, fingering a strand of pearls at my neck. My mother is there, except she is older, her hair is white, as if she were here with me in 2011. She is also dressed in black. In my dream, there is a young boy maybe 6 or 7 and he is drawing in a sketchpad. We appear to be waiting. A non-descript man appears, his presence ominous almost fearful. He pulls me aside with mom lingering nearby one eye on me, one eye on the boy. His words are unclear but his tone undeniably forceful; when he is done he calls to the boy who looks up and follows him without question. I seem to be trapped where I stand, now in the middle of the courthouse lobby. The walls are stone cold, the marble floor dull and gray, there is but one chandelier lit. The bulbs reminiscent of movie marquees from the 70s, only these one circular, the glass frosted. I look toward the staircase, the boy grows smaller and smaller in the distance. A woman resembling my mother walks over to me, holds me close and whispers with a soft Irish brogue, “It is for the best my love.” I feel my heart break, and my body starts to shiver uncontrollably. And that’s when I wake up at 11AM feeling ill and disoriented, hungry yet nauseous, mind unclear and foggy.

unrequited undertow

2011-04-07T20:22:00.000-04:00

swimming the action of propelling oneself in water by natural means using arms and legs, can also be used abstractly as both a negative representation of a sensation, where one is floating or reeling and a positive one where one proves to not go under and surmounts difficulties in their path. a lot of meaning for one word isn't it?

swimming, i've been in and around water since I was a child. the ocean and its surroundings a part of almost every childhood memory. in each memory there is sun, sea, sand. the sun's appearance dictating a Saturday beach outing where we would pile into the dusty green Datsun and drive east toward Rockaway. On longer weekends we headed west toward the Jersey shore. And during the weeks of summer vacation, my mom and I would travel by subway to Coney Island or by bus to where the end of Oriental Boulevard meets the sea.

Rocky shoreline of Orient Point, LI

It was the draw not only of the sun on the sea but the sun and the sand, and depending on what shoreline we found ourselves, each experience of the sand beneath my feet, defined by its texture, shape and size was like time traveling. From the bay shores of Coney Island to beginnings of the ocean near Riis. The eastern shores of Long Island where the granules near Montauk Point are slightly larger and mixed with ground seashells to the north shores of Orient Point dotted with shiny smooth stones that glimmer like black and silver diamonds on the horizon, to the white shores of the lido in Sicily where the best swimming holes to be found are nowhere near sand.

swimming, if one were to ask me I would undoubtedly claim to have been swimming since the very first moment my feet touched sand all those years ago. And that would be a half-truth.

At a young age, my Mom and Dad dutifully taught me how to swim in a seaside kind of way. They introduced the ebb and flow of the sea gradually, first building sandcastles and moats, then splashing in caches of water near the surf, slowly leading me closer and closer to the frothy water's edge. With each visit to the beach we ventured a little further, and one day I learned to float, the next time the doggy paddle. I can still see their young faces full of pride, laughing. As I got older they flanked me on either side holding my hands, as we jumped over the crashing waves, eventually finding a spot where we cleared the sea floor enough to sail with the breaking waves body surfing along the surface. In this homegrown adventure I learned to swim.

And then one day years later on the beaches of Cancun, I unlearned how to swim.

Example of water spout (c)http://myturksandcaicosblog.com

It was a gorgeous day, my friend and I were staying at the Krystal Palace and after a day of touring the ruins made our way to the hotel's private beach just steps away from the infinity pool. The sea was translucent and turquoise, the sky above us clear with rolling puffy clouds way, way off in the distance. The water refreshing and cool in the Mexican heat, there was no incentive to leave the water and so I lingered. Nearby a few other beachgoers were looking out onto the horizon, it seems they had spotted something unfamiliar. Upon looking over I saw it too, a cloud far off in the distance with what seemed to be a tornado like spout touching the ocean.
[/caption]
These funnel, or water spouts, as they are traditionally called, can induce storm like conditions and its advisable to not be in the water when first sighted as they can move swiftly. Completely unaware, I continued to tread water and swim, watching the water spout casually from my location, and was quite taken by surprise when the undertow shifted. Caught in a tumbling wave like a rag doll, I lost all sense of gravity, and emerged disoriented and shaken with sand burns on my skin, a torn bathing suit and a heap of sand in my hair. I left that beach seemingly unscathed only to find myself weary of any undertow or swirling current. Since that day I rarely venture beyond my comfort zone, preferring my feet to touch the sea floor regardless of what beach I may be on from the frothy surf waters at Ditch Plains to the mild green seas of Antigua, Barbuda, Aruba and Puerto Rico. This unrequited fear of the undertow has put a damper on any ocean side endeavors.

I finally decided enough was enough, a fear of the ocean is just not feasible for someone who loves the beach. There are so many things l want to do that involve the sea, like surfing and kayaking and even in my wildest fantasies I dream of selling off all my worldly possessions and buying my own private island. I can't do any of that if I'm too afraid to swim! And so I've enrolled myself in a crash splash course at the Y, a swimming boot camp if you will that meets (1) hour a day, 4 days a week for a month straight. The instructors test you on your ability and place you in a group of students with similar swimming strengths. Then they teach you the basics starting with the swimmer's form, or streamline position, and begin introducing you to each individual stroke, i.e., backstroke, freestyle, butterfly, et cetera.

Classes started last week, and I'm happy to say that I survived basic training. It takes some getting used to wearing a swim cap and goggles but it certainly makes for quicker, less invasive swimming. I would say the breath has been the hardest adjustment and a complete 180 after a dedicated yoga practice (in through the nose, out through the mouth); it's no surprise really that I resorted to holding my nose all these years. I can already feel the benefit in swimming as a form of exercise, and as one friend mentioned it's the one sport where you use your entire body. My upper body feels more awake and open, and even though my muscles are sore from under usage, I've never felt healthier. I've also noticed a change in my diet where I crave protein-rich foods more than sugar/salt/starch. And last but not least is the added benefit of sleep. After a full day at work, I swim vigorously for an hour, shower than relax in the sauna for a few minutes before heading home for a long uninterrupted slumber. A full night's sleep is anyone's dream.

Speed Dial on Time

2011-03-23T02:35:00.000-04:00

Taking a cue from Li Jia, the protagonist of Kitchen Chinese, one of the latest books I've read I am seizing the moment to write. Free of guilt and disappointment for a week's worth of posts scribbled in notebooks, ideas jotted on post-its, fleeting sparks of something and then nothing swirling in my brain, allowing the words to flow on the page like writing feng shui.

I've been out of sorts lately, I don't know if it's the wishy-washy change of weather; the solemnity of the news from Japan to Libya; the fast-pace change and evolution at work or maybe it's an undercurrent of what this year is: the final 284 days of my 30s.

What I've come to know is that once you graduate from college and hit the ground running with work and life, time moves so much faster than you can ever possibly imagine. It's not as if someone can warn you about this speed dial on time, it just happens, and the reality of it is intangible, how it affects you, the choices you make. In fact, not until you live through it may you determine, and discover that it is a marvelous time for self-realization and reflection.

green meets yellow on ice

2011-02-24T16:15:00.000-05:00

Kiwi Lemon Sorbet

4 fresh kiwis, peeled and cut into small pieces
1/2 c. sugar
juice of 3 medium lemons
2 T. light corn syrup
2 c. ice cold water

Combine kiwi, sugar and lemon juice in a mixing bowl.

Cover and refrigerate for one hour.

When ready to freeze, mash the kiwi to desired consistency; add corn syrup and water and stir until blended.

Transfer the mixture to your ice cream maker and freeze following manufacturer instructions.

My favorite scoop

2011-02-23T20:18:00.000-05:00

In my last post, I mentioned how I had plans to get back to my life and to all the things I love most, like making homemade ice cream.

A few years ago one of my dear friends, "Mon Frite," introduced me to the wonderful world of homemade ice cream, a hobby she shares with her Dad. Almost every time she heads home to visit, she makes his favorite Maple ice cream. When she shared the simplicity of the process it seemed almost kismet that I should combine my love for ice cream with my love for baking. To help get me started, Mon Frite recommended I purchase an ice cream maker and suggested a recipe book or two to use as a reference.

Ice Cream is literally a frozen, sweetened cream (made from a combination of cream and milk with sweeteners and flavoring). Once you master the sweet cream base, everything else is easy, and the most fun part begins: experimentation, mixing and matching ingredients, and truly exploring the craft of ice cream magic.

****

The following recipe and ingredients were inspired by using Ben & Jerry's Sweet Cream Base.

Honey Vanilla Chamomile Ice Cream

2 c. 1/2 and 1/2
5-6 Honey Vanilla Chamomile tea bags (I used Celestial Seasoning)
2 T of honey
1 c. sweetened and condensed milk, cold

Open can of sweetened and condensed milk and transfer to measuring cup. Set aside to chill in refrigerator.

Pour half-and-half into double boiler and heat; whisk in honey and bring to simmer.

Remove from heat and add tea bags; allow tea to steep for at least one hour.

After hour is complete, remove tea bags and add in sweetened condensed milk to tea mixture. Whisk until blended.

Transfer the mixture to your ice cream maker and freeze following manufacturer instructions.

catalyst

2011-02-14T16:22:00.000-05:00

I crashed on Friday night, and slept through most of Saturday, still recovering from my bout with the upper ninth contagion. Saturday, cup of coffee in hand, I barely left the couch save the time it took to accept my first (and 20-minute early) order from Fresh Direct. The next 12 hours were spent cleaning out and condensing email accounts, stripping the Internet of excess personal information. It's no easy task, sifting through years worth of intentional and sometimes randomly created online accounts, though its definitely worth the effort. You should try it yourself and see.

Asleep by 3, up by 10, I was on the fast track to being on time when I made the mistake of checking my Blackberry. The weekend tends to last a bit longer if I refrain from checking my work email until later in the day; sometimes I'm not always successful. 90 minutes later, a quart of Honey Vanilla Chamomile ice cream (I'll post my recipe later but here's one to whet the appetite) in a thermal carry bag and I'm on my way.

It's a two fare zone to Carroll Gardens, and it's been awhile since I've taken the bus to the train to get there. It used to be part of my morning commute when I worked for a start-up back in the late 90s. Back then I managed marketing and events for an online production company. I would travel the F train above ground, below ground, across train bridges, the city's skyline just within view, all the way to Carroll Street, the Smith-9th Street station deemed unsafe for a woman walking alone. It used to be anyway. Back then I knew the F train route pretty well, I would leave my station on Court and 4th and head downtown into DUMBO to train with my boxing instructor Bobby Beckles. That was before JLO and Gold Street were prime real estate, before they were pipe dreams.

I find myself using a lot of words that conjure the past: back then, before, used to -- not sure why these phrases keep popping up in my conversations, it's a bit startling and has forced a pause for reflection. At the end of last year I realized that my work had taken over my life, and I sort of had an identity crisis. There are so many things I used to do, out of curiosity or just for the sheer joy of trying something new, and I've definitely been lackadaisical in partaking. But I've decided to change it up, this year comes with a new attitude and a fresh perspective. My challenge for 2011 is to get back in touch with who I am, rediscovering me.

Starting right now.

loose change

2011-02-14T03:13:00.000-05:00

I've always been a firm believer that things happen for a reason. This morning as I left the house, I impulsively grabbed a pile of quarters sitting on the kitchen counter. A short while later settled on a city bus, a fellow passenger was rounding up change for his fare. Coincidence? Fate? A message from the universe? Perhaps. I have no mysticism to share, just an observation: that one should be cognizant of how they choose to participate in this world. And when possible, they should participate wisely, for the greater good. It almost always prevails.

the secret of life...

2010-11-23T22:39:00.000-05:00

Best friends, you can never have too many of them in your lifetime. And rest assured that you will have many. It's like that poem that has circled mailboxes and inboxes for decades, detailing the cycles of friendship and life, about how and why people shuffle in and out of it. As the words go: for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

Think reasons and seasons:
Childhood, high school, the good times of college, first love, first fight, work angst, vacation fun.
The span of a lifetime:
Lean on me when the world comes crashing down, rejoice with me when the sun is shining, console me from embarrassment, save me from myself.
Be here, sweet friend, be here.

In present society I find that it's just too easy to be friends. Friends, I use that term loosely. The progressive nature of technology offers countless ways to stay in touch through feeds, wall postings and status updates, allowing us to broaden our circle of acquaintances and blur the lines that separate them from our friends.

Acquaintances share a commonality, an interest but oftentimes the relationship is fleeting, temporary. Friends on the other hand are like family, members of which you have cultivated a relationship. You learn to grow with each other, in spite of one another's idiosyncrasies. You become each other's confidante, backboard, truth serum. You love one another unconditionally and without judgment. It is a natural evolution from stranger to friend, and occasionally acquaintances themselves evolve into one.

Maybe I am naive to be wistful, wishful, but I long for the days when friends were friends forever. Some may call that a myth, a childhood fancy. I believe it exists: this magic of friendship. Despite the madness and confusion of the world, I believe there are still humans out there who embrace the complexity of it; who thrive from the give and take, the nurturing; who harness, protect and defend each other from the threat of an asunder; who still practice the art of thoughtful communication. The warmth of a voice over the phone, hugs exchanged in greetings of hello/goodbye, the stories that made you laugh until you cried, memories shared through postcards, photographs (thank goodness for these), letters, phone calls, quality time, the absolute cerebral reality of being there in the moment. These timeless treasures, I feel as if they are happening less and less, were it not for my photographs I might start to believe they didn't happen at all.

The world is spinning so fast, everything has become blurry, disoriented. Even the events one relies on to connect fall flat. I recently celebrated a birthday, away from my city of origin, disconnected from a LAN/landline. I was looking forward to this day of celebration because of the phone calls and cards--concrete tokens from loved ones, family and friends. Imagine my utter disappointment when the phone (and postman) only rang twice. Every other birthday wish came noiselessly over the Internet, in email and posted to Facebook. The silence was deafening, filling my heart with a longing for another era. Era, the language of my grandparents. I'm still too young to be thinking in such terms and yet there seems no other word for it.

(quiet reflection)

These late night musings should be shared over malbec and merlot accompanied by philosophical conversations, memories, the occasional regret absolved with bittersweet chocolate and laughter.

They should not be part of a soliloquy.

~~~

"I found out what the secret to life is: friends. Best friends." - Ninny Threadgoode (Fried Green Tomatoes)

Andrea Meets the Boy From Oz

2008-11-25T18:23:00.000-05:00

I was on a blind date (set up by Sharyl, Ms. Doylestown herself) at The Oak Room. Before arriving, Craig met a couple Katrina & Kerry regulars at the establishment...who had recently bought an apartment at The Plaza. Katrina was very pleasant, genuinely charming, she garnered respect from everyone in the room and more or less knew the entire staff.

Craig & I joined Katrina & Kerry for dinner...The Oak Room Bar, newly renovated by restaurateur Joey Allaham and Chef Joel Antunes was an experience even for this native New Yorker, a wondrous way to kick off the week. My meal started with sea urchin on a bed of creamy polenta foam, followed by roast loin of lamb with artichoke hearts and ending with the most decadent of desserts: Rice Pudding w/Cointreau, Pumpkin Pots de Creme, Miniature Madelines, and a plate of pastries fit enough for a king.

Katrina, god bless her soul put me to shame with her social butterfly etiquette making new friends by the handful. Whilst she was away we had the pleasure of ogling Richard Gere at a neighboring table, and upon her return introduced us to Joey Allaham and his wife Lauren. A charming, and beautiful, couple. A short while later, after another social circle of conversation Katrina returns to tell us we're crashing the party next door at the Palm Court for the premiere of the new Hugh Jackman & Nicole Kidman movie Australia.

In NYC fashion, we pose as Katrina & Kerry's daughter and son-in-law and soon we're mingling with the celebrity studded crowd--filled with people who look familiar but are unrecognizable. As we a are wandering about I spot a dashingly handsome man in a 3-piece suit, its Hugh Jackman of course ...the date is thinking we should plot to get a picture, we conspire ...but it feels too invasive, he's there with his wife and family friends....

We pause to strike up a conversation with one of the secret service security guys (a moonlighting NYPD detective and I wonder if he knows Ray). We start chatting about celeb duty... and Eddie Boyle (born in Flatbush, now from Rockville Center), asks how we got in and I who cannot tell a lie come clean. Eddie laughs and asks if I've taken a photo with the man...I shake my head and he responds "If you're brazen enough to crash a party then what's stopping you from getting a photo?" Well he had a point and so with nothing to lose we make our move. We're hovering in the queue of fans milling around the movie star...and Eddie sweet Eddie leans toward Mr. Jackman, whispers in his ear and the next thing I know I'm being formally introduced to Mr. Jackman himself. The date takes a photo using my phone its kind of grainy but one of thing's for sure Hugh Jackman is charming, gracious, and yes, ultimately gorgeous.

The Desk Stops Here

2008-10-27T18:16:00.000-04:00

A cluttered desk says so little and yet so much about a person. Try as I might I attempt to keep the surface area organized but some days I find it just as taxing as the line items on my to do list. To think that the desks here at 770 offer less space...it certainly doesn't seem that way. We've been at our space for just a week and my cube feels as if its been lived in for years...there are even Olympic ring coffee stains marring the counter top.

In a survey of what I can see, on the keyboard level of my desk:

a bamboo tree drinking water and turning yellow;
the newly crocheted scarf I received from a friend;
piles of paper with scribblings in ink and in lead;
Netflix movies to return;
my weekly calendar (as much as I try I cannot not write things down);
typed up to do lists to keep me on track;
newspaper articles with copy circled for use in presentations;
a neon clipboard with trade articles to review;
two water bottles half-filled;
a cactus stone garden (a welcome gift from the company when we moved);
an iPod idling on pause, earphones dangling off the desktop;
coupons and reminder postcards for doctor appointments;
a day's old worth of coffee (still smells good, tastes awful);
a pair of eyeglasses;
a jar full of pens, pencils, plastic utensils and scissors;
a purple mouse pad and wrist guard;
the Synonym Finder (one of the best writing resources); and
an HP printer.

Loretta

2008-09-30T17:35:00.000-04:00

the loss of anyone in your life is hard to stomach but someone who shaped you into the woman you have become? now that is a challenge every daughter and granddaughter must face at some point, and we are never ready for it when it does happen.

a friend of mine lost her grandmother recently. stories of Loretta were always colorful, filled with character. she was a spitfire, and though I never had the chance to meet her personally, the little that I know, the impact she had on my friend's life, is enough to know she will be terribly missed.

peaceful journey Loretta, rest in peace.

listless thoughts

2008-09-29T17:37:00.000-04:00

how will the denial of a bailout affect our livelihoods? what will make the powers that be sit up at attention and realize that things are running amok? who is in control? i thought this was a free nation but it feels as if the rug has been pulled out from beneath us.

my insides are blindly confused by the state of the world today.

sleep escape

2008-09-28T05:02:00.000-04:00

Life is something you do when you can't get to sleep, that's how i feel right now. The quote is written on the spine of the most recent issue of Real Simple.

I can't sleep...am wide awake. Astounded really. I did sleep in on Saturday but had a fitful active evening starting at 4pm. Grocery shopping, prepping, cooking dinner for Emily & Kristin. I made a most ambitious meal: Tortellini w/Eggplant & Peppers; Chicken Cutlets w/Spinach and Pumpkin Bread. Everything was scrumptious, and most importantly we had time to catch up and shoot the s* in girl's night style.

Emily left around 11 for the drive back to Philly. Kristin and I watched marathon episodes of the second season of Charmed while playing a round of Scrabble.

Maybe that's why I can't sleep--all that conjuring still clear in my head. Maybe it's the White Vanilla Tea. Maybe it's something altogether different that I have no clue about. All I do know is that it's 5AM on Sunday and I'm not tired. :(

forgotten

2008-09-26T18:25:00.000-04:00

The morning is gray. The sun hiding. The apartment is damp, the summer over. The rain cries from the sky, nearby trees in hues of green shake. The street is quiet. Save the ticking of the clock, and the rumbling of my stomach it appears that I am alone. Friday the last one in September. My thoughts are wishy washy. Unclear. Stilted. I am a figurine in a snow globe encased in its cardboard packaging, a Christmas gift unwrapped admired for a moment and then stowed away in the attic.

decisions

2008-09-26T17:35:00.000-04:00

I've decided that i have failed this blog by not committing myself to at least one post a day. There are no rules, the words need not be the beginning of a novel, a letter to myself but they should be, they should breathe. I hereby test myself to remember to write when I find myself online. Let us see if I can live up to the promises I make to myself as equally as I do for others.

wise words to reflect on

2008-09-26T17:33:00.000-04:00

Wise words from Paulo Coelho's Warrior of Light newsletter:

Why go on fighting

Reader Gerson Luiz tells the story of a rose that longed for the company of the bees, but none would come to her.

Even so, the flower was still capable of dreaming. When she felt all alone, she would imagine a garden filled with bees that came to kiss her. And so she managed to resist until the next day, when she opened her petals again.

“Aren’t you tired?” someone must have asked her.

“No. I have to go on fighting,” answered the flower.

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t open up, I wither.”

Learning to see

Buddha gathered his disciples and showed them a lotus flower.

“I want you to tell me something about what I hold in my hand.”

The first gave a whole treaty on the importance of flowers. The second composed a lovely poem about its petals. The third invented a parable using the flower as an example.

Now it was Mahakashyap’s turn. He came up to Buddha, smelt the flower, and caressed his face with one of the petals.

“This is a lotus flower,” said Mahakashyap. “Simple, like everything that comes from God. And beautiful, like everything that comes from God.”

“You were the only one who saw what I hold in my hand,” was Buddha’s comment.

In search of a wise man

For days the couple traveled almost without speaking. Finally they arrived in the middle of the forest, and found the wise man.

“My companion said almost nothing to me during the whole journey,” said the young man.

“A love without silence is a love without depth,” answered the wise man.

“But she didn’t even say that she loved me!”

“Some people always claim that. And we end up wondering if their words are true.”

The three of them sat down on a rock. The wise man pointed to the field of flowers all around them.

“Nature isn’t always repeating that God loves us. But we realize that through His flowers.”

In the flower shop

The woman was strolling through a shopping mall when she noticed a poster announcing a new flower shop. When she went in, she got a shock; she saw no vases, no arrangements, and it was God in person who stood behind the counter.

“You can ask for whatever you want,” said God.

“I want to be happy. I want peace, money, the capacity to be understood. I want to go to heaven when I die. And I want all this to be granted to my friends too.”

God opened a few pots that were on the shelf behind him, removed some grains from inside, and handed them to the woman.

“Here you have the seeds,” He said. “Begin to plant them, because here we don’t sell the fruits.”

What is Real?

2008-09-26T17:32:00.000-04:00

"What is real?" asked the Velveteen Rabbit one day.

"Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you- it doesn't happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time. Generally, by the time you become real most of your hair has been loved off and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand".

- by Margery Williams

loquacious

2008-09-26T14:06:00.000-04:00

there is a bird chirping outside my bedroom window. the most talkative bird I've ever heard

The Friend We Want To Be

2008-06-23T17:22:00.000-04:00

Even without the afterglow of a relaxing vacation, a baby or anything and everything else that brings you peace and tranquility I think we can all agree that it is a challenge to consciously carve out time for ourselves; time that allows for free thought, reflection, normal breathing and remembering why we are all here (and for the record it’s not about work, dusting, computing or anything else that takes up way too much of our time).

I've recently returned to yoga, I’m committing myself to 1x week. I’ve been reading the Daily Om, an insightful daily reminder about how to live your life. I’ve also enrolled in an Italian class because there’s no reason not to. What are you doing? Feel free to answer, you might inspire someone.

excerpt from The DailyOm:

The Friend We Want To Be
Evaluating Our Relationships

There comes a time in all our lives when we may need to evaluate our relationships, making sure that they are having a positive effect on us, rather than dragging us down. Without realizing it, we may be spending precious time and energy engaging in friendships that let us down, rather than cultivating ones that support and nourish us along our path. Life, with its many twists, turns, and challenges, is difficult enough without us entertaining people in our inner circle who drain our energy. We can do so much more in this world when we are surrounded by people who understand what we're trying to do and who positively support our efforts to walk our path.

We can begin this evaluation process by simply noticing how we feel in the context of each one of our close relationships. We may begin to see that an old friend is still carrying negative attitudes or ideas that we ourselves need to let go of in order to move forward. Or we may find that we have a long-term relationship with someone who has a habit of letting us down, or not showing up for us when we need support. There are many ways to go about changing the status quo in situations like this, having a heart to heart with our friend showing through example. This process isn't so much about abandoning old friends as it is about shifting our relationships so that they support us on our journey rather than holding us back.

An important part of this process is looking at ourselves and noticing what kind of friend we are to the people in our lives. We might find that as we adjust our own approach to a relationship, challenging ourselves to be more supportive and positive, our friends make adjustments as well and the whole world benefits.

06.16.08 ... a melancholic monday

2008-06-23T17:20:00.002-04:00

Self-preservation requires one preserve, protect and survive with self, intact. An entrepreneur’s guide to life applied to corporate America. That would make a great title if only there was energy to write the words. It’s a challenge to live them, a frustrating one at that.

When we were in Greece it was easy allow the world that we know (and once loved unconditionally) live in the very distant reality, white noise to our background music. Back in the trebles of the city letting go is much more difficult…the vision, the sight while at times sharper/keener objects once closer are now fuzzy, the others slightly less so, more crisp, still foreign.

Melancholy Monday…is it a Monday in general or this Monday in particular. Is it the sudden change in weather or something less specific that has me spinning towards a less than happy mood, perhaps a good comedy will laugh those tears away.

06.09.08 - Weekends Fly

2008-06-23T17:20:00.001-04:00

Weekends fly. It is nearly bedtime on a Monday evening and for the first time since returning I feel the New Yorker permeating my skin. Tourists stopping to look at a blank sky framed in skyscrapers—are there none where they are from?

Pazza Notte and the Strangers....

2008-06-23T17:07:00.000-04:00

Keri and I met for drinks and a light dinner at Pazza Notte, can’t beat the 2 for 1 Martinis from 5pm – close. It was a treat to catch up on all the things going on in her life before mingling with ‘strangers’. She absolutely loves her new job at Interactive One. Last night they celebrated the publication of the June issue of Giant featuring Kimora Lee on the cover. (Ah the glory days of magazine parties.)

We arranged to meet Jack at quarter past eight (and of course we were late—island time sans watch is so much more appealing) at The Terrace Club where Jo hosted a Stranger Party. Each guest had to bring someone new to the mix (men bring a new single woman; women bring a new single male). Jack and Ray, who was had to cancel to chase bad guys in Atlantic City, were our strangers (aka un-dates).

I have to say despite slight reservations, the evening was a lovely way to spend a Friday evening. The crowd was pleasant and inviting, genuinely interested in getting to know one another through conversation. I’m happy to say I made some new friends (all of whom have been extended an invitation to the soiree, save the date 7/26/08).

I have a sinking 'suspicion'...Tim McGraw

2008-06-23T17:06:00.002-04:00

Tim McGraw…if every man looked that good in a pair of jeans, socializing scene would be easier on the eyes. (Faith is one lucky lady.) The trek to PNC made me grateful to live close to the city and reminiscent for adventure—the subway to the train to the shuttle (which looked like a white prison bus out of a 1950s movie). I didn’t realize how much industrial zones there are in New Jersey…odd that like in Sicily they are close in proximity to the shoreline.

I wish I had the sense to beef up on Tim’s tunes before the concert—not that country music isn’t a quick learn once you’ve heard the lyrics. Kristin and Emily were partying it up as Anne and I soaked up the concert and concert goers in $5 lawn chairs.

We serendipitously shared a cab (Bayside Metro – Aberdeen/Matawan) with a couple of girls from Bay Ridge ($120 + tolls) rather than wait an hour for the train and another for the subway. Anne was a good sport, being the last one to get home via subway from our ‘hood. Keith the cabdriver was an interesting soul: ex-cop, ex-volunteer fire chief, from Jackson, NJ who’s never once set foot on a train or subway and has never the tri-state area.

O Internet wherefore art thou

2008-06-23T17:06:00.001-04:00

Day 5 of no home Internet access. Day 5 of a crazy cat who will not leave the windowsill and pees in the foyer. Day 5 of maddening exhaustion at 9pm. Last night I returned home from a full normal day of work, went into my bedroom to undress, sat on the bed and passed out. I didn’t wake until 5.30 this morning—the door was open, the lights on the fan going. Thank goodness I never had a chance to turn on the faucet!

06.01.08

2008-06-23T17:02:00.000-04:00

Wow a whole other level to mental distress…Saturday Fairway is no Friday night I’ve never seen so many young dads with their charges in tow emasculated by their wives. The streets of Red Hook and surrounding Cobble Hill empty except for the bicyclists by the handful (if only more of them would wear helmets…a child seat but no helmet, go figure). The sun’s bright and hot, nearly 4pm—as if we were still in Greece.

Sure enough I bought food for an army (I know about emotional eating but what about emotional grocery shopping?), hopefully I can keep to cooking dinner with leftovers for lunch. Thursday is the only night with set plans (Tim McGraw in concert at the PNC Arts Center, let’s pray for no rain).

I treated myself to a potato knish remembering Anna’s desire to eat one, a must-have from the “what I miss from the States” list

What is the right way, the correct way to accost change, and make it our own…what is the best way to embrace the interim in between change and now? Is it better to lose oneself in solitude contemplation or embrace the every day existence with resigned acceptance? Its Sunday the day of rest and I feel pushed and pulled by the very core of every thing around me to move fast and sit still… I am dressed, pensive; annoyed at the prospect of changing cars because neighbors (with ample space) are hording parking spots; pondering next steps of where and what to do…

Today’s to do list: paint the chalkboard, load the dishwasher, launder sheets & towels (blasted Greek towel blue fuzz everywhere!), clean the kitchen, groceries at Fairway, purchase a stove at Lowe’s (delivery on a Saturday), writing time, then dinner with dad (maybe at The Farm on Adderley?)

A colleague of mine, was featured on Sunday Today this morning (thanks Kristin!) promoting his participation in the FreeCycle program…so fortuitous—I hope to post a whole bunch of stuff tomorrow (glass blocks, velvet yardage, leather too) and clean house. Maybe that will help clear the mind and soul a bit.

05.31.08

2008-06-23T17:01:00.000-04:00

Before the paradigm swung a little too far to the left and pushed every thing one degree out of reach, I remember the weight of things. One degree. How can one solitary degree make any if all the difference? Was reality the before or the now? This world moving at the sound of something foreign unreal interrupted, true. Before: the air unnoticeable, the earth heavenly enough to tread where time roamed free. Now in captivity, frozen solid beneath the surface of some one else’s dream. How to break free using fingernails bitten down to scratch the surface, the surface of what?

05.28.08: Homebound

2008-06-23T16:59:00.000-04:00

We plan to meet Anna in front of the house at 7am. She will lead us through Cassibile to the highway (remember the one with the blue signs) and toward the airport. I hug her with all my might and we take last-minute morning photos. Once on the road, we drive single file and honk away as she leaves the highway at the Belvedere exit. We are silent in the car for a moment or two, it’s finally sinking in that it’s a long way back from here to home.

Photos from Sicily

05.27.08: Lido Arenella

2008-06-23T16:58:00.000-04:00

Our Last Day in Sicily

Our final day in Sicily…and we’ve decided after a brioche con mandorla we will go the beach and vegetate, hopefully swim for a bit before meeting with Anna to go shopping. The lido is lovely, and I know we are cursing ourselves for not spending the entire two days here instead of in that blasted car lost amid the city streets. But such is life and at least we have one day to relax before traveling back to the States.
And so it goes, lounging, girl talk, sleeping, reading, swimming, laughing at Gianluca and the other cabana boy lifeguards in white speedos flirting with the young ladies on the beach. Right out of The Flamingo Kid.

We meet Anna at McDonald’s (yes Virginia, they are everywhere), switch cars (grazie Dio) and go shopping. Kristin had purchased a beautiful red patent leather bag in Ortygia yesterday; Claudia wanted shoes and I was undecided hoping to be inspired. We all hit jackpot. Claudia got two pair of shoes and I bought a new swimsuit at Calzedonia. An orange and white bikini with a coral reef beaded motif, the matching tunic cover up reminded me of a dress I once bought at Scoop.
Anna brought us to an organic fragrance and beauty shop owned by Tony’s niece, where she gifted me with a tea and wine infused perfume that has become one of my favorites.

Back to the car and then to Anna’s for dinner where Bartolo was preparing the meal. Manuela lucked out with Bartolo. Not only does he cook and actively takes part in raising his children; he painted their bedroom murals, goes fishing before work, works as salesman/designer for his father’s furniture store and occasionally rides a badass motorcycle. A good strong man with a sense of values who provides for his family: he’s from Sicily ladies, Sicily; and unfortunately he’s one of a kind.
Dinner is spaghetti with an oil, parsley, garlic and breadcrumb concoction that Bartolo and Anna have created. Of course, it’s delicious. One more round of conversation, group photos, kisses and hugs and see you again soon rather than goodbyes.

05.27.08: Siracusa

2008-06-23T15:49:00.000-04:00

L'ultimo giorno in Sicilia

Our final day in Sicily…and we’ve decided after a brioche con mandorla we will go the beach and vegetate, hopefully swim for a bit before meeting with Anna to go shopping. The lido is lovely, and I know we are cursing ourselves for not spending the entire two days here instead of in that blasted car lost amid the city streets. But such is life and at least we have one day to relax before traveling back to the States.
And so it goes, lounging, girl talk, sleeping, reading, swimming, laughing at Gianluca and the other cabana boy lifeguards in white speedos flirting with the young ladies on the beach. Right out of The Flamingo Kid.

We meet Anna at McDonald’s (yes Virginia, they are everywhere), switch cars (grazie Dio) and go shopping. Kristin had purchased a beautiful red patent leather bag in Ortygia yesterday; Claudia wanted shoes and I was undecided hoping to be inspired. We all hit jackpot. Claudia got two pair of shoes and I bought a new swimsuit at Calzedonia. An orange and white bikini with a coral reef beaded motif, the matching tunic cover up reminded me of a dress I once bought at Scoop.

Anna brought us to an organic fragrance and beauty shop owned by Tony’s niece, where she gifted me with a tea and wine infused perfume that has become one of my favorites.

Back to the car and then to Anna’s for dinner where Bartolo was preparing the meal. Manuela lucked out with Bartolo. Not only does he cook and actively takes part in raising his children; he painted their bedroom murals, goes fishing before work, works as salesman/designer for his father’s furniture store and occasionally rides a badass motorcycle. A good strong man with a sense of values who provides for his family: he’s from Sicily ladies, Sicily; and unfortunately he’s one of a kind.

Dinner is spaghetti with an oil, parsley, garlic and breadcrumb concoction that Bartolo and Anna have created. Of course, it’s delicious. One more round of conversation, group photos, kisses and hugs and see you again soon rather than goodbyes.

05.26.08: Siracusa

2008-06-23T15:40:00.001-04:00

Siracusa: Things to do, people to see

We sleep in; and when we’re ready walk to the pasticceria for pastries, brioche con limone granita e caffe. And water. This time we buy one liter each. It may be late spring to some but Sicily, so close to Africa, gets hot. I remember, the first time I returned to the island as an adult, my surprise at the palm trees. Adela laughed, “But Andrea they have always been there. Perhaps when you were younger you never thought to look up.”

After breakfast we piled into the car and made our way to the city center, the 2nd time in two days. And with just as little luck as before. Kudos to both Claudia and Kristin who took turns driving stick while I attempted to make sense of the city layout and navigate. We managed to travel through and around the outskirts of Siracusa (if only we had this map) without ever making it anywhere nears our intended destination. At one point we were so lost we drove into a private parking lot to ask someone for directions, only to find out we were on the other side of town and bypassed Adela’s street completely! By the time we arrived at Adela’s it was half past two—lunch took a little longer than we planned and sight seeing didn’t kick in until half past four. We all agreed then and there that Tuesday would be a beach day.

Sights to see whilst in Siracusa: the Roman & Greek theaters. If possible, plan your visit in time to see live performances of the Greek tragedies. Unfortunately 3-1/2 days was hardly enough time to see much. Next stop Dionysius’ Ear, the Temple of Apollo, then the Fonte of Aretusa, and the baroque cathedral: Santa Lucia alla Badia. Topped off by a stroll through Ortygia, the archaeological island off Siracusa.
Nighttime brought us to Anna’s for dinner (calzone like pizzas filled with meat and cheese) where we spent time with Anna, Tony, Zia Lina (Adela & Anna’s mother), Manuela & Bartolo (Anna’s daughter and son-in-law) and their children, Niccolo e Federico.

With only evenings to visit Anna and her family we stayed later and later each night to maximize the time. Bittersweet moments especially seeing as how exhausted Anna, Manuela and Bartolo were (from working all day, returning to take care of the children, make dinner and then visit with us). I wish Anna would consider making a trip to visit with us; she has not been back to the States since she lived in Brooklyn as a young teenager. I know it’s something she wishes with all her might. I vowed to send them a ticket upon her official retirement and despite her fear of flying and leaving the children for a few weeks I hope she’ll acquiesce.

05.25.08: Taormina, Etna e La Famiglia

2008-06-23T15:10:00.000-04:00

Taormina & Etna
Breakfast on the verandah at Hotel Condor, followed by a walk through Taormina to the Greco Teatro. Then we check out and head to Etna, another long winding road this time the altitude makes me sick. I sit out nursing a migraine while Kristin and Claudia make the ascent to the top. And it’s a trek of all treks, 49 Euro worth that included a funicular to a humvee to a walkabout with a tour guide. I sat in the sun for a bit, surrounded by a posse of bikers (think vespa not hybrid). When they started smoking I walked the touristy area of souvenir shops and cafes, where using the loo cost .50€ per use, and made my way back to the car for a nap. Intermittently disturbed by the occasional check-in call from the cousins.

Siracusa: La Famiglia
Three hours later we make our way to Siracusa, another highway with blue signs a seemingly straight shot until we lose ourselves in the city center. Parked near the hospital and the sanctuary we waited for Adela and Nuccio (my cousin and her husband) to meet us; we then followed them to their home on via Teodoro Siculo in Siracusa.

Famished we gluttonously stuffed ourselves with spinach pie, lightly salted focaccia bread, peppers and potatoes, pasta, sautéed zucchini and meatballs wrapped in eggplant. Followed by fruit, un cafe and dessert. Adela sent us off with leftovers for a midnight snack, and then we made our next stop at Anna and Tony’s (Adela’s sister and her husband) home by the beach on Via Isole de Filippini in Lido Arenella. Poldo, the family dog, greeted us first as guard dog then as family.

Anna’s demeanor, her warmth and genuinely fun-loving nature instantaneously remind me of my mom. These are the moments I wish we didn’t live so far apart.

05.24.08: Athens to Sicily (via Rome)

2008-06-23T15:08:00.000-04:00

Athens
Traveling journeys are bittersweet. Despite the inconveniences and grievances brought on by easyCruise, it was the proper vessel to explore otherwise unknown ports of call. We met people who would have otherwise remained strangers, and have memories that are more vivid than most dreams.

Back in Athens, after a simple exit we caught a cab back to the Plaka. We enjoyed our last morning at the Yopia café with breakfast and coffee, surrounded by spring’s flowers and lovebirds waiting for the stores to open for last minute shopping (leather sandals, cotton shirts).

Arriving at the airport (in the slowest taxi ever) to catch our flight to Rome, we sat behind a family of New Yorkers chatting about the Hamptons and the city—it was almost too much to bear but at least we have another few days before going home.

Rome:
Claudia! She’s waiting at arrivals. We trade stories over a Panini. The flight to Catania, a Taormina adventure not so far off, the greatness of Sicily and its glory, told from memory…a lost soul arrives today.

Catania:
Bags? Check. Rental car? Check. Map? Check. Water? Why do we always forget to pack water? We leave the airport jetlagged, exhausted.

The highway signs are blue, there are more roundabouts here than in NJ. Etna grows smaller with every stick and clutch shift, something’s not right. All at once Enna becomes Etna and we are heading toward the sunset in the wrong direction.

Taormina
We arrive in Taormina in the dark of the night. An unfamiliar car in an unfamiliar city with one long winding road up that’s hardly wide enough for the car let alone the space to make a U-turn. But somehow we make it to the Hotel Condor in one piece, ravenous with just enough energy—siamo fare un passegiata a Trattoria da Nino (via L. Pirandello, 37) per la cena; sempre facciamo un altra passegiata nel Corso Umberto per un gelato.

05.23.08: Syros, Greece

2008-06-23T14:53:00.000-04:00

Last port of call: Syros, Greece

Luckily for us Syros was a sleepy island; we each visited the island solo, while the other slept.

On my late afternoon jaunt I stumbled upon a local swimming hole, located in the northern part of Ermoupoli. Locals dove off a concrete pier into the translucent sea. I dangled my legs over the side to get my feet wet, only to be splashed by the surf from a passing speedboat.

Later that evening we made our rounds in the center of town window-shopping. We discovered a glass artisans’ boutique, Ioanna Tanaeanh and her brother, selling her original creations, most noted for the Tree of Life etched in the bottom of her bowls and pomegranate magnets. A quick (and expensive) bowl of fish soup later we boarded the boat for the cruise back to Athens.

easyCruise’s resident DJ played tunes from the 70s and 80s as most everyone danced themselves silly (including Kristin and I) led by Dale & Terry a couple we met earlier in the trip from San Jose.

05.22.08: Mykonos, Greece

2008-06-23T13:35:00.000-04:00

Party Island: Mykonos, Greece

I am only now recovering from this island (written early afternoon on 5/23). If you are looking for an island with nightlife this is it.

The island itself is quite picturesque and it is no wonder photographers flock here. Upon disembarking from the boat, just a short distance away from the tourism office good luck getting service, people were downright rude!), Petros the pelican and his brethren descendants of the original Petros, mascot of the island. Nearby the famed Panagia Paraportiani church leads you to the streets of Little Venice, the artist/shopping district. Here we meet Peter from Chicago who has taken up residence to be closer to his son and now manages jewelry shop La Maglia.

Wandering through the Alefkandra district, past the four windmills in Kostra we make our way back to the center of town hoping to catch a taxi to Paradise beach. Taxis are few and far between so we walk searching for the bus depot rather aimlessly in the maze of streets and alleyways.

Paradise Beach…compared to the beaches we had seen thus far, it was hardly a paradise let alone a beach. It reminded me of Cancun, with the side-by-side beach bars each playing their own version of dance/house music to the sunbathers under the palapas. There were so many sun beds and umbrellas that it was hard to find a spot where the sun continuously shone. Without the sun, the beach itself was chilly; and according to Kristin the water was cold. I took her word for it and didn’t even venture to dip my feet.

We left just in time to catch the sunset over the windmills: the most beautiful one thus far.

easyCruise was unable to dock in Mykonos port, in the morning that meant we had to take tender boats to the shore. They received clearance to dock in a town 4km north of Mykonos, which meant we had to take a taxi back. And if we wanted to dine in Mykonos that night, we would have to register for a shuttle.

Kristin worn out from the sun opted to stay in and rest. I ventured out on my own with a book to read over dinner (ala Eat Pray Love). Dinner alone at Kosta, a taverna we had passed earlier in the day, included stuffed tomatoes and wine. Two women at a neighboring table invited me to join them as I finished my wine. Karen (AUS) and Kristel (UK) were celebrating the last night of their vacation with plans to paint the town red. They invited me to come along and off we went in search of (sense a pattern here in Mykonos?) the Skandinavian Bar.

Thanks in part to a Mykonosian (?) who escorted us to the bar, we arrived safely and delivered in good hands to Mick the bar’s promoter who directed us to the main area. There the bartender, Angelo, fixed us up with a round of free shots. We partied like rock stars until the wee hours of the morning.

05.21.08: Paros, Greece

2008-06-22T16:50:00.000-04:00

The Halfway Point: Paros, Greece

Our arrival in Paros was scheduled for 2pm so we decided to sleep in, only to be disturbed by housekeeping twice! Our vouchered lunch (and last attempt at a meal on the boat) was a challenge, it took nearly 25 minute to flag someone down to take our order.

We strolled Parikia on cobblestone streets and stumbled upon Ekatontapyliani, a church that has 100 doors and windows, 99 of which have been accounted for. Legend has it that once the 100th door is found, Constantinople (aka Istanbul) will be returned to Greece.

Afterwards, we searched in vain for the Paros tourism office and then again for the water taxi to Krios beach, finally opting (this time by choice) to take the scenic route over hill and dale to the beach. What a trek, straight out of The Sound of Music Kristin and I plowed over the rocky landscape and down a steep hill to what looked like a beach. It was far from memorable, the water was stone cold, the beach dirty (this was a first for us since arriving in Greece).

That evening we strolled the east side of Parikia on cobblestone streets, past storefronts, lit windows and boutiques, stray kittens and puppies galore before dining at Levantis.

05.20.08: Kos, Greece

2008-06-22T16:20:00.000-04:00

A Day Worth Remembering: Kos, Greece

A stroll past a turreted castle wall leads to a square and breakfast at Café Philippe –croissants and iced coffee. Fortified by a splash of caffeine we take the scenic (aka convoluted) route through town in search of the bus station that will take us to Tigaki beach.

Best known for its long white sandy beaches, Tigaki is located 7 miles west of Kos port. The bus packed with tourists, drops us in front of a row of sun beds. Tourists scatter and we make our way down the street stopping at an Australian bar with a boxing kangaroo painted on its storefront. In homage to Kristin’s Aussie physical therapist we walk inside for a beer and to use the loo and end up staying the entire day at Micki’s Beach Bar.

The bar and its staff (Micki, Colin, Dev) and regulars (Harry, Noel) were warm and inviting, treating us as long lost friends rather than newly acquainted strangers. The bar itself offers direct access to the beach by way of a winding stone path. We set up shop at the green and gold sun bed and umbrellas and swim to our hearts content in water tranquil as the Caribbean only greener with an occasional whitecap, and wading height. I walked nearly a mile out from the beach without so much as a drop in depth, or an overpowering tide or current.

Dinner at a nearby restaurant—the best chicken soup, one you can taste in your dreams—and then back to the bar for beers and the house special shot: c*sucking cowboy (Click here for the history of the shooter.) Before departing at 1am (many thanks to Dev for the ride back to town!) we promised to return before the close of season.

05.19.08: Bodrum, Turkey

2008-06-22T15:38:00.000-04:00

Next stop: Bodrum, Turkey

A voucher for a prison breakfast: a dab of Greek yogurt, plain (no walnuts or honey), a bowl of corn flakes with milk, and an apple. Coffee was extra. What a disappointment, ours was minimal compared to other guests who waited to no avail for a piece of toast.

Upon arrival into Bodrum there is a welcoming committee perhaps to celebrate the national holiday, Youth & Sports Day. DJs blare music at 10AM, as young girls belly dance toward us with postcards and evil eye key chains. Much to our dismay (as we find out later) our trek up Ataturk Street and through the residential streets is the LONG way into town; we wind our way through dusty streets, construction sites and meager fruit stands wishing had learned more Turkish, as hardly any one speaks English.

Thank goodness we read up on Bodrum at an Internet café in Kalmynos. The currency (not the Euro) is the Lira, and has more zeroes than we can think of. Over a cappuccino at Fobar, a minimalistic modern club on the water, we opt to stick with plastic on any shopping excursions. Bodrum is a good place to shop, we picked up the majority of our gifts here, along with some beautiful pieces of jewelry.

Sun and beer outside The Red Lion on the strip; we head back to the boat for a nap (luckily finding the shorter seaside route).
Dinner at Kortan a fresh seafood restaurant on the water was decadent—no menu was offered only freshly prepared appetizers, entrees and dessert to choose from on a tray. We had octopus, shrimp, fresh vegetable kebabs with swordfish and lamb and then strawberries and cream. We had an uninvited guest join us for dinner, or at least try to: Percy was a very persistent cat (see the photos for proof).

5.18.08: Kalymnos, Greece

2008-06-22T15:30:00.000-04:00

First stop: Kalymnos, Greece

The island of Kalymnos is most famous for their sea sponges. We abandoned ship for breakfast on the island—a croquet monsieur at Yianni’s Ciao Café; and picked up provisions at Charlie’s, a shop two doors down. The owner a charming Greek-American from Bay Ridge sold us towels, sun hats (a straw cowboy with butterfly motif) and beer cozies.

After getting directions from Aphrodite (really!) at the tourism office we hailed a cab and Skevos took us to Masouri, a popular tourist beach near Telendos. We spent the day relaxing under umbrellas, swimming in the Aegean Bay with bar service from nearby Stavedos, a pirate cove bar. The water was clear and crisp, the sun and climate perfect. A sunset view of Telendos while we dined at Zorbas (v. common name here in Greece) Seafood made the evening complete.

The day more than made up for the problems at check-in back at the boat; Stelios stood nearby during the mayhem, seemingly indifferent.

Later that night we returned to Pothia for a late night stroll. We stopped for gelato and then pizza at Pizza Imia. Our server, a Greek-American from Boston introduced us to the owner/ chef who learned pizza making in Sicily. They told us how until easyCruise, Kalmynos had been untouched by tourism—mostly visited by local Greeks from neighboring islands and Athens.

05.17.08: The Plaka & Acropolis

2008-06-10T10:09:00.000-04:00

A novelty of traveling during the low season, we woke to the sweet sound of a weed whacker. The hotel gardener was fastidiously ridding the veranda of an overgrown yet barren tree. We dressed, had breakfast (a cat or two nearby for company) and journeyed through the Plaka shopping for sandals and cotton shirts as recommended by Angela’s friend, Helene. Following Nikodimou one block west to Adrianou then over to the Acropolis walkway; it’s fair to say you cannot walk too far in Athens without stumbling upon a ruin of some sort.

The uphill trek shortened by residential staircases was hot, and it’s not even midday. We make it to the entrance to find the site overrun by American and Japanese tourists. Cursing ourselves for having no water, and climbing the dusty roads in flip-flops, we are rendered speechless by the temples and ruins of civilization before us like markers on a three-dimensional time map. The Acropolis is magnificent…golden in the morning sun the view of Athens picturesque. It’s amazing that we have come this far …

We make it back to the hotel with time to spare, Spiros loads us into a cab and we are off to Piraeus port to board the great orange boat.

The big orange and gray boat ought to have been painted yellow as in a yellow lemon but I’m getting ahead of myself...check-in at the port terminal was relatively easy as was boarding the boat. Bags in tow we waited nearly an hour for an elevator, I decided to go ahead with some of the bags (of course the lift arrived soon after I began the four flight ascent to Cabin 7120). An omen perhaps but the real shocker came when a buffet dinner was served to nearly 400 people and they ran out of food (of course Kristin and I were in the queue)—on the first day! Thank goodness we packed Kashi granola bars and a bag of almonds, we would have starved.