This is what Matthew calls my execu-babe look. Interview day.

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It went well

The interview, I mean. I asked good questions, she asked good questions, there was the requisite amount of witty banter. I performed well and I got the feeling she liked me. I liked the office quite a bit, very new and cool and fresh. Definitely a creative atmosphere, not the austere, blah corporate beige of most offices.

The thing is, this woman interviews people for a living, so I can't get a feel on whether I'm going to get a call back or not. It's not that she had a poker face, she was quite human and charming - more open than your average first interview. It's just that she's a pro and it's quite possible that everyone who walks into her office walks out thinking "that went well". We'll see. I hope she calls.

Decisions

None of these things are of even minute interest to anyone who is not marrying me next month, but I'm listing them anyway because I'm so glad (and relieved!!) they're decided upon.

First dance song - most probably True by Spandau Ballet (this will be perfect since we're having a band that plays 80s music... with a country/bluegrass/roots twist - ever heard Tainted Love played by a 4-piece that included a pedal steel guitar and a stand up bass? You ain't lived.)

Aisle walking strategy - he's walking down between his parents, I'll follow between mine. None of that father giving me away like I'm some prize won from a trade of livestock and pottery.

No one is staying with us from out of town. This was really hard because we both want our best folks to stay with us since they're travelling from afar. But when it comes down to it, our apartment is a one bedroom and it's going to be our only refuge from the craziness that will descend upon us in 4 weeks. 4 weeks! So, best man and maid of honor are sharing a hotel room. They rock and we love them.

Honeymoon - flights booked, hotels partially booked (Paris - check! Staying at the same lovely hotel from last year. Prague - still up in the air, but we have a tentative reservation for a studio apartment rather than a hotel. Berlin - awaiting confirmation from the travel booking agency tomorrow about an awesome pension.)

Woo hoo! Thanks for indulging me.

Oh, come on!

I think the modern slavery issue has made me sick. I've been in and out of the bathroom since yesterday afternoon. I have no clue what the problem is. The fever of a few days ago went away and I felt good - weak, but good. Then the intestines decided to revolt in ways that are so awful I don't want to relive them in my memory.

To the digestive warriors deep in my gut I say this - WTF, dudes? It's the weekend. Cut me some slack already!

Don't know what to say

There are few times when I have insufficient words to express myself. I am a wordy and effusive person by nature. Sometimes a subject stops me cold and I find that language escapes me.

Right now I am listening to NPR as I work. Truth be told, I've stopped working momentarily because I need some time to compose myself. There is an interview going on right now on our local NYC NPR affiliate with Benjamin Skinner, a journalist who has spent years researching and going undercover to explore the perils of modern slavery. His book, A Crime So Monstrous details the shocking fact that there are more slaves in the world today than at any other time in history. Surprised? I was.

I could hop a flight right now to Port au Prince, Haiti and in a mere 5 hours from the time I left my apartment I could be negotiating the price of a child in the open air, broad daylight. Mr. Skinner did this. He told the slave trader he was a journalist and he wanted to talk to him about his work. To his shock, the man was open with him about the buying and selling of children. To see how far the trader would go Mr. Skinner asked him how long it would take to get a child. 3 days. What skills should the child have? Cooking, cleaning, she would sleep on the floor, she would not be sent to school. The trader asked if the child would be used also as "a partner". Mr. Skinner tried to keep his composure as he answered, "Yes, if that's possible". The trader said the price would be $100. Eventually it was negotiated down to $50.

$50 for the life of a child. I have no words.

In Bucharest, Mr. Skinner was undercover at a slave trader's place of business and told the man he wanted a young woman. The trader quickly brought out 2 girls. One showed visible signs of Downs Syndrome and makeup had been hastily applied to her face in an effort to make her saleable. She was crying and the makeup was running down her face. Mr. Skinner was told he could have her for the trade of a used car.

This happens every day. Just because we don't see it doesn't mean it isn't going on. We can't sit by and do nothing. Action is needed.

Need a suit

It's raining and the sun hasn't shown its bright face all day. What a day to be cooped up in my living room working like a dog for a company that screws me every chance it gets. I had a 3 & 1/2 hour virtual meeting today. Have you any idea how excruciating that is? You sit at the computer with a silly headset (like Craftmatic Adjustable Beds, I swear), stare at the screen while someone else shows you what's on their desktop (typically a very dry Excel sheet of some sort), and occasionally the presenter asks if everyone is still awake. It gets better - the topic? Financial responsibility as it relates to my projects. Here's something - the financial health of my projects is severely limited when I have to spend most of my afternoon in a virtual meeting instead of actually working.

Interview on Monday. I know I said I wasn't going to make any major changes until after the wedding, but I can't stand it anymore. It's just one little interview. It might turn out to be nothing.

Now I need something to wear. Hmm.

Ickies

Feeling under the weather today. Started last night. Was sauteeing some zucchini and had to sit down on the kitchen floor because I felt faint. Did the whole head-between-the-knees thing. Now I can't seem to warm up and I'm achy all over. Feels like flu symptoms without the flu. Matthew asked me if I was pregnant... and he seemed hopeful. But no, that's not it. Just a case of the ickies, I think.

6 words... that's all you get!

Kerri tagged me to write my very own 6 word memoir. Seems impossible, doesn't it? Hers is very good - very good. Then again, she's a writer! It helps to be a bona fide writer when faced with memoir crafting.

Here's mine:

Lots left to learn. Let's go!

(Brain like a sponge, get it?)

Rules:

Write your own six word memoir;
Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like;
Link to the person that tagged you in your post, and to the original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere;
Tag at least five more blogs with links; and
Don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

Get to it Retro Girl, The Rover, Cajunvegan, Claire Joy, and James - another pro writer.

How many more?

4,000 American soldiers dead since the Iraq War started. I don't feel much like blogging today.

Ah, le weekend

Tentatively decided on a color for the hallway - cafe au lait. An hommage to our new favorite kitchen gadget as well as a happy medium between the marblehead gold of the kitchen and the sage green of the bathroom/bedroom. Thrilling, right?

Saw Voice & Sandwich - aka The Rover's parents. They're so great. They're the same as they were 15 years ago when I met them. Supportive, intelligent, hilarious people.

Got organic yams for Duke at the greenmarket. He seems to love them. He better... I got 6 for $9! I guess at $1.59/lb they add up quick.

Had a minor meltdown over the wedding. Money is not a topic that I am totally comfortable with. It stresses me out. I don't like the idea of shelling out thousands of dollars for one night. I am super excited about our wedding and our big bash with the ones we love, but I am not excited about the price tag.

Saw a guy sitting outside a vintage clothing shop who looked so much like our friend Jimmy it stopped me cold. My heart jumped into my throat and I froze. I was so supremely happy for a split second until reality set in and I remembered Jimmy's dead. I stood on the sidewalk and cried. Matthew just rocked me for a couple minutes and we walked home. Tough day.

Show was fantastic. Great crowd. Can't wait for the next one.

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Strung together...

in the web of the world. Every strand connects to the next and it goes on and on. Anyone who doesn't see the interconnectedness of everything just hasn't had their eyes opened yet. Little things prove this to me all the time. Take last night for example.

Duke and I were out for our pre-dinner walk and he was taking a royal dump... which meant I had some time to stand still and wait for him to finish. I heard whistling coming from behind us. I could tell that the whistler was on a bike because the sound got closer much more quickly than it would have if he/she were on foot. I recognized the tune, but couldn't place it at first.

Then, just as the whistler cyclist got within 20' I put the tune with the lyrics in my head and realized he was whistling the chorus to Across The Universe by the Beatles. As he got along side us he whistled and I sang, "Jai guru deva om..." right in time with one another. He looked at me, smiled from ear to ear, shouting, "Yeah! YEAH! Right on!" as he pedaled past.

I performed the requisite cleanup and Duke and I made our way back home. I whistled the whole way. That's what's called a connection, folks. That little shared moment with a stranger. Pretty wonderful, if you ask me.

Yo, turn the bass up in my headphones

One two, one two.

This is a running joke amongst the band and those of us auxiliary people who populate the recording studio during sessions. Inevitably, someone will put on a pair of headphones to listen to a mix or to overlay a dub and then say, "Yo, turn the bass up in my headphones!" It's a nod to various hip-hop artists who feel the need to discuss the recording process in their songs. It would be like me making a skirt and embroidering the word "seam" over the seam. How did telling your listener what you're doing in the studio ever become a cool thing to do? It's not like you'll spit that part of the lyrics when you perform live. It's not really part of the song. Hilarious.

There will be lots of that tonight, as we head to a different studio to do a few additional guitar tracks and vocals. The band recorded some prelim tracks at this studio last year. When we're there the vibe is amazing. It's filled with the energy of all the great artists who have recorded there before. People like Frank Sinatra, Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Bruce Springsteen, Tony Bennett, Tito Puente, Kelly Clarkson (What? I like her), Avril Lavigne (gag), Herbie Hancock, John Mayer, REM (REM!), Carly Simon, Lenny Kravitz (tasty, tasty man), Carole King, Chick Corea, George Benson, Celine Dion (feel the drama!), Diddy, Diana Krall, Joe Jackson, Ringo Starr, James Taylor (swoon), Sonny Rollins, Placido Domingo, Winton Marsalis, Woody Allen (seriously), Sheryl Crow.

Needless to say, the room has vibe. Major vibe. I'm sensing a late night in my future. A fun night, but a late one. Must get some rest before tomorrow, though. The band has a show tomorrow night! So excited. I love watching Matthew on stage. To me it's the sexiest thing in the world. Man I love, guitars I love, music I love. Delish.

WHY?

This is upsetting. Infuriating. Frustrating. Sad. Depressing.

This is our neighorhood, our borough, our problem. This is not OK.

This is the front cover of our wedding invitations. It's our new monogram designed by my very own almost-husband. I'm about to go drop them off at the post office.This is really happening!

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Balancing the investment:return ratio

I have made a decision. It seems that lately I have posted frequently about the grand decisions I've made and the changes I'm planning to make in my life. It's good to have ideas and to make plans, but it is better to act on them and make them a reality. The sweeping decision for today is to not take my job so damn seriously.

For real.

I've hit some speedbumps with my company in the last several months and my confidence in them as an organization has been dwindling at a pretty steady rate. After the events of last week (which are too boring and tedious to spell out in this forum) it has become glaringly apparent to me that I have given too much of myself to my job and it's time that it stopped. I will continue to do my best, to work hard, to see all my projects through. However, I will no longer be going above and beyond. I will no longer be working long hours. I will no longer be volunteering for corporate initiatives and taking on extra work. I haven't seen much return on the investment I have made in my job. What usually happens when an investment doesn't see good returns? That investment gets reallocated. Right? Simple math.

So, I am now reallocating the time and energy I would have previously earmarked for extra effort in my job to things that matter to me more - like my own interests, my own creative pursuits, my own life. I'm not going to become some work slacker, I'm just going to be smarter about the way I approach my job. It's like a relationship in the sense that if one person gives and gives and the other just takes and takes then the relationship isn't a very productive one. I'm going to make better investments with myself. Time and energy are priceless and impossible to get back once spent. They better be spent on worthy causes. Here's to a smarter personal portfolio.



By the way, David Paterson just took the oath of office and is now the governor of the state of New York. His swearing in ceremony was very moving and exciting. I was surprisingly giddy listening to it on the radio. His speech was great - he's a funny guy and he was jovial and light and inclusive. In order to read a speech he has to use incredibly large type, so he typically speaks candidly, on the fly. It was human and real. The first black governor of NY. The first legally blind governor of NY. He has grace and charm and I have high hopes for his term. I hope he is met with cooperation and respect. He deserves it. He served in the state senate representing Harlem for 21 years. The man has experience. Super cool thing: governors of NJ, CT, and MA were all present today. It's a regional love-fest.

Rhodes keyboard. Recording studios are cool. Just listened to the guys lay down a Wurlitzer part over a really great drum and vocal track. Bearing witness to artistic creation is a great experience. It's one hell of a way to spend a weekend.

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La de da de daaa...

Post time is thin this weekend. I've spent a good deal of time getting wedding stuff done, cleaning the kitchen, dirtying the kitchen, cleaning it again, making long put off phone calls, walking with Duke around our neighborhood in the brief moments of sunshine. Tomorrow I'll head back to the studio to hang out with the band as they finish up the process of recording this record and listen to the tunes they've already tracked. Getting to the end of this project is something I've been waiting for with bated breath. It's not my project, it's Matthew's, so there is inherently something foreign about it and yet it's so familiar because I've been around it since the inception. It's been going on in our living room for a year now. The songs have evolved from little ideas, seeds of sounds that end up growing into big trees to make an amazing canopy overhead.

I'm an outsider and an insider at the same time. It's a good place to be.

Blech

So busy with work...

Don't have time to write proper post...

Hate it.

Going to the recording studio tonight to lay down some background vocals on Matthew's band's new record. That shall be cool.

I want to punch my job in the face.

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It's official

New York has our first black governor. Our first legally blind governor. Our first governor who has had to take the reigns mid-term because the man we elected got caught patronizing prostitutes. Nice. I can't help but feel sorry for David Paterson. He didn't get into office because he was elected. He got there because the guy above him stuck his willy in women and paid for it.

Paterson has an uphill battle ahead of him. Republicans in our state are going to be watching his every move and scrutinizing him even more than they usually would due to the circumstances of his appointment. I wish him the best. He represented Harlem for 2 decades, so I'm looking forward to seeing how he'll treat NYC in Albany. One of Spitzer's last acts was a budget cut for NYC schools to help out struggling upstate communities. My teacher friends aren't too happy about that. I hope Paterson makes solid decisions and sets a tone in this state that shows it's OK to have a non-white guy at the helm. It's about time.

Lastly, Spizter has teenage duaghters. That makes his dalliances even more disturbing. Way to scar them for life, you jerk. They're teenagers, do you have any idea what this will do to them? They know their father was booted out of office because he screwed chicks and paid for it. If you're at all intelligent/compassionate/alive you will get them to a counselor immediately. No group on earth is better at taking personal blame for things that aren't their fault than teenage girls.

JERK!

Hey, Spitzer, the next time you get caught patronizing a prostitution ring try not to make your "apology" speech sound just like every other speech you've made. You know, like the one where you touted the values of public education. Or when you discussed the issue of poverty in our New York neighborhoods. Employment and health insurance used to be hot topics for you. Remember that time when you tried to institute a policy that would allow undocumented immigrants to get drivers' licenses? You seemed sincere. You delivered all of those speeches with the same self-assured, authoritative, confident tone you brought to your speech today... where you said, "I have disappointed and failed to live up to the standard I expected of myself. I must now dedicate some time to regain the trust of my family." Pardon me, but I think you must now actually be held accountable to the same set of laws the people of your state are obligated to follow. No offense, but you have a lot more to worry about than the fact that you screwed your family out of any sense public peace or happiness.

For what it's worth, I despise the fact that Spizter Swallows is still the lead story on the Times' website. I know it's news. But there's something about a war somewhere... where the hell were they yammering on about yesterday? Oh yeah - Iraq. There's a war there. Or how about the recession? Presidential campaigns? Gitmo torture tactics? How about we focus on something other than our governor's criminal sexual tastes. I mean really, if that douche wants to spend $4k/hour to have Cheyenne or Cynnamin get him off I don't care. Get out of the office that my taxes pay for and then you can do all the pathetic hooker diddling you want, Spizter. I hope your wife has a good lawyer. You certainly don't seem to be one... seeing as you... broke... the... law. You'd think going to law school would make you remember those pesky little regulations better than the average Joe.

I guess there's a silver lining: If Spizter resigns (like he should) Lt. Gov. David Paterson will serve the rest of term... and he'd be NY's first black gov. Plus, he's legally blind. Neat factoid.

Talk Soup

I was on my own this weekend since the man was in Vermont with his buddies for a bachelor shindig up in the mountains. I took the opportunity to indulge myself in little luxuries I usually forgo when he's around. Friday night I finished up work earlier than usual and had a nice sushi dinner... fell asleep on the couch and napped with Duke until around 8:30. Promptly awoke and was starving again. Martine was right - I should have ordered another roll for later. Instead, I made nachos. Ate them while watching stupid girly shows like What Not To Wear, How To Look Good Naked, and Say Yes To The Dress without any guilt or shame. Read trashy gossip mags with abandon. Farted and picked my nose without care since no one was around. A pretty perfect Friday night, if you ask me.

Saturday brought a visit from Farmer Ted (the farmer who supplies our CSA with produce) and then coffee with the girls. We hung out for dinner, too. AK spent loads of time on each step of a fairly complicated butternut squash soup recipe. She sauteed onions and carrots, added the spices so carefully, stirred in some stock, simmered the concoction delicately. When the time came to puree the delicious soup she poured it into my blender. The lid was missing the plastic cap in the center, so she covered the hole with a plate and started it up while telling us a story about her fiance making soup once and pureeing the lid cap right along with the soup. We laughed at how silly he was for doing such a careless thing. What a goofball!

Right about then a terrible grinding noise burst from the blender as if there was something pureeing away that was definitely not supposed to be in there. AK went pale. "Did I just do exactly what I was making fun of him for?" No, not possible. No way. I'm sure it's fine. It's an old blender, it just makes noises. We tried to reassure her it was just the racket of an old motor.

Yep. Totally. She blended the cap right into the soup. She just didn't see it at the bottom of the blender before she poured the soup into it. The whole thing was pulverized. Hilarious. We dumped it into the toilet and rummaged through the cabinets for other entree options, laughing hysterically the whole time. We ended up having a great meal because Farmer Ted brought so much lovely produce earlier in the day. Roasted root veggies and fresh salad greens never tasted so good! Toss in some couscous from the pantry and you've got yourself a delicious last-minute meal! Funny how some of the best things aren't planned.

This is why I love local produce. It doesn't get much more beautiful than the veggies from Farmer Ted.

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Go aloe, go!

I posted a picture this morning of my adorable little aloe plant via Utterz, but who knows when it will show up. The point of the picture is to say that resiliency is a virtue I could use a little more of. The aloe is a great example of what can come from determination, even from the most meager of starts. This plant used to be a single clipping from the much larger momma plant at my old office. The baby plant, who lives on a table near our big front windows, is thriving and getting bigger all the time. It's about 8 different sprigs now. Pretty amazing considering it started from one small clipping.

Every time I get knocked down I should think of how high I can bounce back. Even the tiniest plant trimming can make a whole new plant. So, when I'm feeling low I can choose to grow, or I can choose to shrink. I think I'll choose growth from now on. Certainly seems to be working for little baby aloe.

Da Hood

Photoshop is rad. That's us, but it looks like us in an illustration out of a 1950s guidebook. Welcome to Brooklyn.

Fierce. Or something like it.

*SPOILER ALERT: If you don't want to know who won Project Runway you should stop reading now*

There is something empowering about watching someone's dream come true. It's inspiring. It makes the possibility of your own dreams a little more realistic. It shows you that there is a way to get things done. It puts a tangible spin on a very conceptual idea.

While it is uplifting and wonderful to see someone else's dream become their reality, it is also a crushing reminder that your dreams are still just that - dreams. Your reality is the same as it was yesterday, the same as it will be tomorrow. The same, that is, unless you change it. Unless you do something to shake up the mix.

Are you any closer to your dreams than you were yesterday? I can safely say that I am closer to some and farther away from others. The ones that I've moved away from aren't the ones I've decided to let fall by the wayside, they're the ones I want very much but have done nothing to attain.

Tonight I watched Christian, that little snivelling punk, win Project Runway. He's talented, very talented. He sees things that most people don't see and he works with fabric in a way that is transformational and artistic. His dream came true. And you know what? He didn't get to the top by being nice to everyone. Anyone who watched the show knows he's no fairy godmother. He got to the top by talent and audacity alone. I could learn a good lesson from him. I could. I should. Maybe I will.

thump, thump, thump, thump...

That's the sound of my ovaries pulsing. Last night I held a 5 month old baby for 2 hours. We had a great little dinner party at a friend's place and the baby was restless. I was the only one he'd stop crying for. Amazing. At the end of the night he fell asleep on my shoulder. A friend snapped a pic with her cell phone. Matthew saw it and teared up. Yeah.

It has begun

The time has come, ladies and gents. The time when the preparations kick into high gear, when people start asking insane amounts of ridiculous questions, when things you totally forgot pop into your head with a bang, when last-minute details make you dizzy. We're under the 2 month mark until the wedding. 7 weeks left, to be exact. The big chunks of the prep are done. Now I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or to lose my mind from people asking me loads of questions about asinine shit. I wish older women would stop asking me what my colors are. They are inevitably disappointed and confused when I tell them that we're having the wedding in a 125 year old library with gleaming 2 story wood paneling and original frosted glass and brass light fixtures, so we're just doing greenery rather than flowers. It only adds to their dismay when I tell them the bridesmaids are wearing little black dresses. I know they're just being polite and they're interested in the wedding, but explaining it over and over gets on my nerves. Wait until they show up and see me looking beautiful in my dress... with all my tattoos showing. I think I'm setting myself up for an evening of unending interrogation.

We decided to go back to Europe for the honeymoon. We had such an amazing time in Paris last Spring, it was our first time across the Atlantic and we loved it. We're going to fly into Paris, spend a day there, then hop over to Prague, spend a few days, take a train to Vienna and end up in Berlin. That's the plan. 4 countries in 10 days might be a bit ambitious, but we'll see how it pans out. If you've been to any of those cities in the last couple years and have recommendations about where to stay/eat/sight see, etc. please feel free to let me know. I'd love some advice.


Side note: Alison Krauss and Robert Plant have put together one of the finest records I've heard. Raising Sand - if you have a chance to get this record you should do it without hesitation. She brings the bluegrass, he brings the rock and roll and together they make amazing music. I gotta tell you, there's something about Robert Plant's voice that makes me want to take my pants off. He's older than my father. That's amazing. If you watch the video below you'll eventually see a guy playing guitar between Alison & Robert. That's T-Bone Burnett - one of the leading producers in the recording world (remember O Brother, Where Art Thou?) and a walking encyclopedia of music. The video is cheesy as hell, but the song is awesome.

I digs me some pig

**EDITED to remove the pork roast photo that was making people gag**

I have a long standing love affair with all things pork related. The pig loves me back. Bacon? Adoration. Ham? Heaven. Chops? Divine. Loin? Yes, please. I don't know why I love pig parts so damn much, but I find all of them delicious. No feet, no ears, nothing typically creepy. But hocks, chops, hams, shoulder roast, you name it. There is no cut of pork from which I cannot coax something amazing. Yes, I am painfully aware that this makes me a bad jew. I make sure that when we have dinner parties where any of my vegetarian/muslim/kosher friends are guests we do not serve any portions of pig. None of those caveats limit in any way my love of pork.

Over at Shauna's blog you can check out some of the most decadent bacon recipes in the world. She's fantastic and she loves food as much as I do. She and her husband throw dinner parties all the time, too. Except her hubby is a chef and she's written a cookbook... Matthew and I just dabble. We're amateur gourmands, but professional eaters.

If you're interested in gluten-free food for whatever reason (my almost father-in-law has celiac disease, which is a severe intolerance of gluten... it could kill him if he eats it) you would do yourself a favor to check out Shauna's blog. You could also just pop over to drool over the photos of the food she makes.

I've been saying 2008 is a year of CHANGE, haven't I?

I'm really not trying to be overly political this year, but people just keep making awesome videos. I'm sure you've seen this video for Obama. Well, check out the one below and think about what it means when one candidate wants to focus on hope and change and one candidate wants to play into your fears and hopelessness. I remember a Bill Clinton quote from 2004 that summarizes things nicely:

"... if one candidate is trying to scare you, and the other one is trying to make you think, if one candidate's appealing to your fears, and the other one's appealing to your hopes,'' he said. "You better vote for the person who wants you to think and hope."

Too bad that doesn't bode well for his wife... her latest ad doesn't exactly inspire.

Anyway, here's the funny part:

Can't help myself, I love these girls

These children have genius parents.