Nan

6:30am the alarm goes off. "Really?" I think.  This is the start of the school year and I cannot believe how quickly it has crept upon me. In an odd way, I have been excited for this moment.  Routine is always something I enjoy. Yet, perhaps despite my craving for more cognitive activity, I am sad to roll out of bed and into the shower.

The first stop once things are in place and my bag is packed up is Starbucks.  It is a ritual I enjoy.  I love going into the dark cafe, smelling the coffee, seeing the same local old men holding court over the tables, and standing in line pretending I don't already know what I am going to order. Grande Skinny Vanilla Latte is my drink of choice. Ah, to hold it in my hand is delightful.  I can practically taste this beverage.  Am I an addict?  I like to think my addiction to coffee is not an addiction to the caffeine but to this whole cafe experience. It makes me feel chic and puts me in a good mood to face the day.  I just wish Starbucks wasn't so expensive per cup. Downsizing to a tall might be the answer, no?

Coffee hand, I head to pick up a co-worker on our way in for Teacher Boot-camp.  Coming down his block this little, black animal comes walking out into the street.  It's movement is erratic and it might be a raccoon.  Slowing down to a roll, and then to a stop, the animal walks into my tire. I get out and along with Robin, we quickly assess the situation. It is blind, tiny, stray dog that has wandered away from home.  We decide we will be late for work and begin our detective mission.  The dog has tags but none of them have its name or home number.  We call the vet number from its rabies tag and bingo!  The dog's name is Nan and surprisingly the address the vet gives us is for the house across from the car (from the yard she stumbled away from).  But, no one is home.  We drive little, old, stinky Nan to her vet and know that no matter what happens she should be in good hands now.

In a funny way, going back to school can feel like being blind. You sort of show up, stumble around, listen to everything around you but feel separate from it all. In the darkness you fear the unknown year that is about to begin. Then someone reaches out a protective hand or maybe makes an important connection for you to your course and your stumbling stops.  You can relax and feel like you are home and no just stumbling in the dark down some random block in Brookline. 

Come on Irene

Today New England was hit with Hurricane Irene.  Thankfully, we in Brighton were safe and sound.  Just a bit of wind, rain, and lots of junk food to keep us company during our Sunday morning. While hunkering down with our 2 dogs, David and I kept ourselves busy with a little morning doomsday television broadcasting on the current weather conditions, some work, some knitting, and some puppy wrestling.  Now our little family of four is sharing some time on our yellow sofa...

 Pajama with Mr. Cuddle-Pants

 Inside our Brighton Command Station (That's right America runs on Dunkin even in hurricanes)

Tree down the block

 Matt & Alex

Dog Park: Closed

psych(ot)ic?

Walking to the studio felt eerie.  The afternoon before a hurricane, the streets of Boston are empty as the rain beats down on the old cobbled streets. Quickly walking the two blocks from the T, I felt a surge of perhaps cosmic energy. Pausing briefly in front of the old burial grounds, where revolutionary soldiers and Paul Revere lie, David and I exchange a glance and laugh, "Today is a perfect day for a psychic reading!"

Yet, somehow this enchantment was broken when I saw the psychics standing outside of the building smoking cigarettes.  In some weird way, I already felt like this was some "scam."  But I shook off this premonition and headed inside convinced that psychics were just people, so why couldn't they gossip and chat outside?  The space for the reading was not at all what I pictured.  For some reason, I imagined a dark space with thick, lush curtains made of possibly velvet and lots of pillows and even a hookah here and there. It was not like this at all.  Instead,  David, Laura, and I find ourselves in a tiny hole in the wall on the sixth floor.  The walls are painted purple which is a nice touch, but the psychics are sitting at four tables with folding chairs practically on top of each other.  There are readings going on simultaneously and you are able to hear people sharing their personal stories to "help" the psychics along.

Those employees who are not in an immediate reading, are lounging about the room gossiping, being crass, or spacing out and looking sort of sloppy.  I sit through Laura's medium/tarot card reading and knit.  During her session, there are some moments when I am impressed by what he says.  But, there are times when I cannot stop thinking, "What is he talking about?"  And, though she pays for 30 minutes she only receives at most 12 minutes of actual reading.

Undeterred though, I sit down in front of Alex, the psychic, and I feel my cheeks get warm. I am convinced I am surging with cosmic energy.  Open, excited, and eager, I am feeling silly when he says, "The cards are filled with humidity" as he passes them to me.  Am I full of energy? Do the cards feel it too? "What do you mean?" I say.  "That it is raining out and my cards feel damp." "Oh...."

He asks for my hands and I reveal my palms. "You have man hands."  He says this over and over again. Now, I do a little digging and tell myself, "you have always been told your hands are like your dad's."  He goes on to stay I will have only 1 child and then my reproductive health will deteriorate. Does he pick up on my cervical issues?  I mean this is why I came wasn't it? But, then he says I will foster 8 children and David will be a coach of some type.  He says I am intuitive, that one hand is bigger than the other, he tell me to have my thyroid checked, he says I came from a family of 4 and have been married for 3 months.  This is all well and fine.  But, then he goes on to tell me about his dogs and how they use a litter box, he asks if I am lactating (which clearly I am not!!), he picks up his cell phone and answers a text message, he talks about his ex, he googles my star-chart, he asks for my age 4 times in just moments, he reprimands a co-worker, and he seems overall either distracted or that these little acts of distraction are meant to do something....waste my time.

He does tell me that David is the Prince of Wands: loyal, has good insight, is an entrepreneur, is careful, cannot lie, has luck and fortune, is wiser than I am.  He says that together David and I have good fortune and love.  While all of this is true, I cannot help but think that flattery is a seduction. Of course, I remember this part of the reading the most and cling to it as a truth, while I try to ignore the many things that did not make sense. Lastly, he tells me I will leave my current job in January and move to Sudbury.  Knowing my current circumstance, I just cannot see this happening.

In the end, I am more inclined to call this psychic non-sense than anything close to truth. So I guess I will just have to live my life the old fashion way....and wait for my future to come like everyone else.

Workshop

Summer via Eating

 Chicken w/ Thyme & Curry Sauce

 Zoe's Brunch

 Becca's Birthday Cake Layer #1

The Best Lobster Roll

Blueberry

It's been awhile

"If you are bored, then you are boring" is a line my husband says.  I am not sure why I stopped writing on this blog.  I guess I got a little bored with summer. Restlessness is in my genes. My father always paces the floor at home and struggles to sit down even for a few moments. There has been plenty to say, but just not the juice in me to say it. I apologize.

Like my summer which has had its highs and lows, so too did my plan to eat clean and mostly vegetables. It is funny how changing one's diet can be such a struggle.  Bad habits are hard to break whether they are biting finger nails, smoking, drinking, or just eating too many Asian noodle dishes (my guilty pleasure!!).

50% of the time I am making the conscious decision to eat well. 50% of the time I fall into old habits. Interestingly, as the start of the school year approaches, I am more inclined to eat well than before. The gym is some place I see myself going to more consistently as well.  Perhaps the summer is my pitfall.  Like other teachers, I am given too much free time and wander the months of June, July, and August a bit aimlessly.

Excitedly, I am heading to a psychic tomorrow to see if there are any "ripples" in my future that he can feel. Perhaps he will tell me something like, "Eat well because there is disease in your future." Or, "I see a long life ahead for you." Or, "Watch out your bad habits are taking hold."  Or, "Be prepared for some BIG changes in your future." Funny how I feel like I will listen more to my future predictions than to my present self.  Or that I will value the words of this stranger more than my own meager attempts at dedication. But in the back of my mind the impending cervical dysplasia exam of January, 2012 looms.

I need to get my head back into the game. It is time to throw the excuses aside and just work at my school work and my health work. Together these will hopefully set me up for success of body and soul. But I am very excited to see what this psychic has to say too.  Do we both see the same future for me?

Sky Diving

I went sky diving.  This was not something on my bucket list.  No, I never had any intention of flying through the air unless it was inside the aluminum tube descendant of the Wright Flyer. How then did I end up there?

The week before the fateful day, David and our friends Alex and Mark made a reservation to sky dive in Chattam.  Of course, being the ever wonderful husband, David asked me to join him on his adventure. And since I had so recently changed my last name to his, he would even pay for the flight as a sort of "birthday present."  Paralyzed in fear, I remember saying, "Are you crazy? This is NO birthday gift for me! HaHa no no no you go right ahead.  I will drive you and the others there and take all of the pictures from the ground."

Finally that Saturday arrived.  It was a long time ago. July 16, 2011 we woke up early, drove to pick up Alex, Tommy, and Mark and hit the highway. All along the way, I thought "Thank goodness I am not sky diving today.  Otherwise this drive would have me in such a nervous state!"  The car ride down was such a blast.  We joked and laughed all the way.  It was so light-hearted.  We kidded how I had worn flip-flops intentionally so I could not be forced to go.  But, then suddenly the conversation changed.  Instead of joking about how scared everyone was and how totally crazy this plan was, the conversation turned to how amazing it will be to confront life's greatest fear!  Then I felt it. Was I somehow not brave enough to confront this fear?  Was I being a wimp?  Could I have it in me to do this? Could I throw myself out of plane at 11,000 ft?

Yes, somehow a wave of courage hit me. Perhaps, it was contact courage from sitting with my brave husband and my brave friends.  Perhaps, it was my new sense of control and my desire to attack my cervical dyplasia head on.  Perhaps, it was sheer insanity on my part.  But, suddenly there I was filling in the paper work.  On the front page was an image of a sky-diver falling to his death. Death Death Death was written on the front and back of every waiver sheet.  I signed my name next to each one. Did I hesitate? Yes, my pen trembled in my hand as I asked myself one last time, “Are you sure?” My response: walking up to the counter and watching David pay my way.

Mark was the first of us to go.  I could not get over how brave he was.  Without even looking back he walked on board the Cessna 172 and took off.  Twenty minutes later he landed safely, followed by Alex and Tommy.  Somehow when they strapped me in to my harness, the next to go, I was not afraid.  I remember thinking to myself, “Wow you are calm.” I remember vividly kissing David and asking him to wait for me outside.  It was so hot out there next to the runway that some of our group had begun sitting inside of the trailer for a break from the heat.

There was no seat for me on the plane.  Instead I sat on the carpet with my back to the pilot as we made our steep ascent. Looking out the windows as the Cape came into view and Nantucket, I could not help but be overcome by the beauty of New England.  Absorbed in my own thoughts of this, it was terrifying when my tandem partner turned to me and said, “Ok get on your knees so we can strap together.”  Instantly the blood rushed to my head.  We crawled strapped together to knee parallel to our exit door.  My head felt fuzzy and my mouth dry.  I was filled with unease and mad at myself for getting this far. "What was I thinking?!?" The last thing I remember was my heart beating in my ears.

The wind rushed with a loud noise and at an unimaginable force. Pinned to the floor by fear, panic set in. My tandem partner was so matter-of-fact.  In the fog of my mind he told me to hold onto my harness to lift my head, arch my back, and enjoy the ride.  I barely heard him. Stretching my leg to the ledge, it blew past my target in the wind only stopped by my tandem partner who helped me to place it.  This was the moment I knew I could not turn back, yet I was still somehow in denial.  Was I really going to jump out of this thing? Tumbling head-first from the Cessna was a lot like being on a roller coaster.  You know that you are in mid-flip and yet somehow you cannot feel the flip. Floating through the air, looking at the horizon line, and focusing on breathing as the air rushed into my nose, ears, and mouth, I screamed.  I felt as if all of the stress that wound its way around every muscle of my body burst out of me with my screams. I was invincible.

The parachute ride was the scariest part. Convinced that the chute would collapse in on itself at any point, I enjoyed the drop more than the ride. Regardless, once on the ground, I was more proud of myself than I have ever been in my life.  I had just done something that terrified me and I felt empowered to take on any and all challenges that would come. There is nothing I cannot do. Nothing.  And, David, my darling husband, shared in this experience with me. I suppose we are not such boring married people after all =)