He said: the Chiro's words

Since K got the story 100% correct, all I will add is that I did indeed plan it this way. I had hoped for a view and a sunset, but when it finally happened, the scene was beyond perfet. Not only did we get the perfect table, we had a 200 foot drop to the breakwaters not a foot from the edge of our table.

Her outburst of disbelief and her momentary laughter shocked me so much, I almost forgot to ask!

the rest of the day was as perfect as our evening capper (the engagement), though we did form some poor opinions of Monterosso. We had decided to take the train to the next town for the purpose of finding a difference beach. After exploring the long boardwalk and eying the many umbrellas shading paired sets of beach chairs, we went to pay for a spot on the beach. The man told us that it would cost 18 euro (about 26 bucks) for 2 chairs or to go to the very small, very crowded free beach at the end of the parking lot. We chose neither, opting to check out the next section of the beach, where a different company operated umbrellas and chairs. The next man told us his umbrella section was all full, despite the fact that there were numerous spaces open.

Suddenly we became acutely aware of the double standard placed on tourists by native Italians.Once they heard our accents (despite conducting all this business in italian), they either doubled the price or did not allow us service at all. For this reason, and because we'd finished reviewing the town of Monterosso, we left only a few hours after arriving.

Back we went to our sanctuary of Vernazza to swim in the familiar waters off the main square.

After a few hours—time really has no meaning to us here—we went home for some rest and reading.

Not to waste the warm evening, we found ourselves on one more short hike that took us to the perfect elevation and vantage point to get a wide shot of the entire main square. Once satisfied, we headed home, yet again to clean up for what would become our proposal dinner!

She said

We got engaged!!!

Our second night in Cinque Terre (our first full day there), we'd decided that we wanted to have our last dinner with a view at Ristorante Al Castello. Unbeknownst to me, The Chiro was planning on popping the question there because we had both totally fallen in love with Vernazza. Apparently I helped his case by repeatedly asking him to take pictures of the castle every time we went hiking.

The day started off normally enough. We woke up, had a breakfast of pesto pizza (I just can't get enough of this stuff!) and headed over to Monterosso. After deciding that we didn't like the town as much as our beloved Vernazza, we went back to our village to change into swim wear and hit the beach. I tried to put our sunscreen, books, towels and snacks into his backpack, but he said he'd rather just carry everything down there separately. He'd been a little antsy since the night before when we'd had a mini argument over how wide to leave the window to maximize both the breeze and our privacy, so I just shrugged and rolled up our towels and stuck them under my arm. It wasn't worth arguing about, and if he'd rather not take the backpack, what was it to me? (Besides, I'd just make him carry all the other stuff! ha ha)

After a nice few hours swimming and sunning, we dried off, hiked to the overlook point above Vernazza, where we could see the entire lagoon, the town square, and of course Al Castello, and took many photos as the sun turned a delicious golden syrupy color.

It was about time to get ready for our nice dinner out (I actually put makeup on for the first time on the trip) so we headed back to the room to clean up. I had intended to clean up as best I could and have this fancy dinner, but accidentally blew up the transformer (and my curling iron) so had to make do with frizzy wavy hair. I wasn't feeling my prettiest, but then I guess it doesn't really matter when the man you're in love with looks at you like you are a radiant goddess!

We held hands and walked down to the town and up the endless stairs to Al Castello for our eight pm dinner reservations. The Chiro said that we'd had a good run of it and I agreed, saying that once we'd actually arrived in Italy, we'd had a great time. He laughed a little and replied that he'd been talking about US and our relationship. I giggled and agreed that things between us were easy, and wonderful, and the Chiro chose that moment. He looked into my eyes and said, "You know what would be even more wonderful? If you'd accept." Since this was a running joke between us, I quipped back, "Yeah, but you have to ask first" but I didn't really believe that he would.

He paused (almost like a nervous falter) before standing up.

"Well, actually..." he said, reaching into his pocket. He came around the side of the table and dropped to one knee in the narrow walkway between the castle wall and our table.

I chose that moment to burst out laughing, tears rolling down my face, asking, "Is this real? is this really happening?"

I think the laughter threw him a little, especially since I was wearing sunglasses and he couldn't see my eyes, but he proceeded. I don't remember what he said (past, "K, my sweet..." but he tells me that was followed by "...I love you. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?") Apparently I responded, "Yes yes yes. I will marry you, yes," although I don't remember that either.) He handed me the ring, and at that point I still thought it was a joke, a dress rehearsal for the real engagement, a trinket from a gumball machine perhaps (not that it looks plasticene...it's beautiful.)

It still feels surreal. My goodness. We're engaged!

The hike

We had planned to get up at 9 this morning and hike to Monterroso, but some 3 am hooligans blasting techno music and shouting outside our room meant that we didn't arise until 11. Because my legs got a little red yesterday on the beach, we decided to give my "lobster sticks" a rest and hike to Corniglia instead. The first hour or so was entirely uphill, providing for some breathtaking views, but also requiring us to stop for water every 30 vertical feet.

We ran into some other west-coasters at about the halfway point, exchanged some pleasantries and took photos of one another with our respective cameras before continuing on.

Corniglia was... not Vernazza: pleasant enough, but much smaller, and being situated so high off the water gave me a frustrated burning sensation in my stomach. Of course, that could also have been because I hadn't eaten much beyond a few apple slices and some spoonfuls of Nutella.

We found a little bar, bought some panini and sat outside on the bench in the sunshine in the middle of the town square to eat and people-watch.

If Vernazza is small, it seems positively cosmopolitan compared to Corniglia, which boasts maybe 6 bar/ristoranti and 3 souvineir shops. Needless to say, we saw most of the town in less than 10 minutes, caught the shuttle to the train station and then headed back to our beloved Vernazza to swim and eat more (Pizza! Oh soft, pillowy, fresh pesto pizza!).

After our dip in the Ligurian sea, we bought fresh cherries, trofie, pesto, and a few pasticcini dolci (like biscotti) to make an economical dinner in our room and read and relax.

Tomorrow, I think we'll take the train to Monterosso to explore and the ferry back, and then in the evening we have reservations at Il Castello Ristoranti, highest (reasonable) point in town. There's an amazing view from up there and we decided on our first night here that our last night's dinner should be held there.
Dinner at sunset, overlooking the sea with good food and the one you love... what could be better?

Our first full day in Vernazza (the Chiro's entry)

We began late in the day. Sleeping in is (and will continue to be) a high priority on this trip. Since we had slept through breakfast, we decided to go hunt down some lunch around one-thirty pm (when we finally rolled out of bed and showered). We went to the end of the jetty to a bar called Baja Saracena which had the best pizza either of us had ever eaten.

After we were full, we settled in the sands of Vernazza's only beach. The town square literally slopes down onto the sand. the square itself was filled with small boats belonging to the locals. Any extra space was reserved for restaurant tables beneath brightly striped umbrellas. Tourists and locals alike casually linger in windows, on walls and at tables, taking in the small horde of people playing on the beach and in the water. While sun bathing on the beach was not a pretentious experience (like in the Cote Azul), you can't help but feel like the center of attention as you exit the water in your drenched suit.

The deep green-blue waters of the Ligurian sea (which feeds into the Mediterranean), we warm, with an initial edge of freshness. The sun felt warm, but never hot. Even the weather seems to come in moderation here.

After a few hours on the beach, we believed ourselves well on our way to being tan, and went home to change and relax in the cool room. This day could not have been more perfectly relaxing. Later in the day, we took advantage of the internet cafe and purchased some food to eat tomorrow before our first hike to the coast in Corniglia.

My addendum to The Chiro...

He glosses over the tough day we had, but dinner was indeed magical.

What he neglects to write is that the shuttle bus that we took from the airport to the train station was 70 minutes of stop and go nightmare on my already-queasy stomach. I hadn't eaten since the airport snacks in Newark (salad, white rice and a sprite) and though we had plenty of food with us, none of it was particularly appealing. After the ordeal on the bus, we finally walked into the crazy bustle of Milano Centrale. I was immediately on guard against pickpockets and scammers (I'd heard horrid stories), at one point hiding behind The Chiro as a wrinkly old Rom woman motioned to us that an unseen baby needed to eat, will we pay?

I replied, "No, grazie." and moved away from her.

We bought out tickets to vernazza (on 18 hours of no sleep) and a panino formaggio, scaldata (hot cheese sandwich), which tasted like heaven.

It take us 20 minutes to figure out which platform our train is supposed to leave from, and another 10, me using the broken Italian that I know, to verify that the train we've boarded is indeed the correct one.

We exit at Genova (as far all is well) and dash to information to find out which platform the train to Sestri Levante will be leaving from. No one speaks any English, so of course all the communicating is done by me in whatever Italian words I can muster. The woman tells me that the next train will come at 12:42 at subterranean station 1 and the Chiro and I head downstairs to wait.

At 12:37, a train comes rumbling through, and though I've never known an Italian train to be early, I ask the conductor if "Questé il treno per Sestri Levante?" this is the train for Sestri Levante. He shakes his head no and says he thinks it's "il prossimo," the next one.

I thank him and a few minutes later, the monitor next to the track displays the words "Sestri Lev." We think nothing of it then, when the train that was SUPPOSED to arrive at 12:42 rolls in at 12:47, and we climb on.

It was a beautiful ride, along the rolling hills and bright turquoise water, and we enjoy the sights, but when the ride that was SUPPOSED to put us in Sesti Levante 30 minutes into the trip turns into 45 minutes (with no Sestri in sight), I begin to fret. After an hour, I steel up my nerves and ask a girl a few years younger than us (in Italian) how far to Sestri Levante and she informs me that this particular train does not GO to Sestri. She asks where we're heading and after we tell her Vernazza, she and a few other passengers have a rapid discussion in Italian, which I can not follow, about the best way for us to get to our intended destination.

The heated debate concludes with the woman telling us to get off "dopo il prossimo" after the next stop.

This finds us in Rapallo, a perfectly charming village, had we intended to go there. However, we've been without sleep for more than 24 hours, without a change of clothing in 56, and without a real meal (shared panino not-withstanding) in 60 hours. I burst into tears, the stress of it all too much for me to cope with in my exhausted state. The Chiro is great at calming me down and after we figure out the new train to take to Vernazza, we buy 2 new train tickets and sit down in a bar for some limonata pelligrinos. I, however, desperately need to use the bathroom and none have any toilet seats, toilet paper or soap for washing.

The tears start flowing again until I run into some nice german women on their way out of the restroom, who take pity on me and give me a package of kleenex. Bless those women! I am SO glad I ran into them.

The saga continues (guest written by the Chiro)

We arrive in Milano one day late, skipping our night of planned recovery. Instead, we are forced to take a shuttle bus to the Milano centrale train station. What one woman described as a "very easy short ride" turned into a very long 70 minute journey. Already lacking sleep, we both attempted to conserve energy for the train ride. With multiple train changes coming up, tensions rose as we discovered how poorly labeled the train schedule really is. Now, we end up stranded in some random coastal town, still hours of travel ahead of us, even though we've been without sleep for more than 24 hours now. Please! Let the next train be the right train!

After another 80 minutes of waiting, we catch the train to Vernazza. Molto bene! We have arrived. Our first bit of luck is that Marco, owner of our accomodations for our time here happens to be right near the train station when we arrive. He takes us straight up the hill to our beautiful room with private bath.

Finally we can catch up on zzzz.

After a well-deserved nap, we head down to the heart of Vernazza. We decide to treat ourselves to a pesto dish made by the gods. Local pesto over trofie noodles with gelato as a chaser. We sat under brightly-colored umbrellas with a view of the small beach and harbor. Night fell, people came out of their rooms, children scrambled and the real magic of Cinque Terre revealed itself. With real food now in us and prolonged sleep on the way, our optimism is growing again.

And so the adventure begins...

We were supposed to arrive in Milan this morning but our flight out of Portland came into Newark late (something about a faulty engine?). We ended up sitting on the plane for nearly two hours before finally taking off, and that, combined with circling a weather system outside of Chicago meant that we arrived at our gate in Newark 11 minutes after our plane to Milan departed. Who knew Italian planes left on time?


We ran to the gate anyway but it had been locked down and deserted. We ended up standing in line at customer service for 2 hours (after sitting on the plane for 7 and having woken up shortly before 3 am). The Chiro was notamused. When we finally made it to the customer "service" center, the agent was busy talking to a coworker about a hot red haired woman, and was in no hurry to helps us sort our journey out. He finally looked up at us to indicate that we should approach the desk when a non English-speaking girl cut in the front of the line and in her broken words tried to get the guy to help redirect her to Las Vegas (for a flight that she'd miss even if she had been on a plane right at that second). She apparently didn't understand about waiting in line like the rest of us (was she Italian? They don't seem to do lines very well there...) The agent told her he'd help her if she stood in line, and she seemed like she was about to burst into tears, but he was unfazed and turned back to helping us find a new flight out (for the following day).


The Chiro and I agreed that a flight the next day was for the best (after 13 hours of travelling, neither of us had it in us to sit still for another 8 hours on the plane). C. Tried to convince me that whether we were in Italy or Jersey, we were on vacation, but somehow it didn't feel like a holiday to me.

Everything ended up working out though, as we got to stay with my cousins in Newark. We got to shower (with the toiletry kits I asked Continental to give us since they wouldn't release our bags). We ate some dinner, watched some tv and feel into a deep stretched out sleep.

As I write this, we're at the airport using our meal voucher tickets (again... I had to ASK for these, or they never would have parted with them). Gearing up for the second leg of travel. Instead of having a night to rest in Milan and get accustomed to the time difference, we're going to head directly to Cinque Terre via train and swim, sleep and relax!

The Chiro's Confetti Rice

Harriet Van Horne said, "Cooking is like love—it should be entered into with abandon, or not at all."

Like love, cooking can require patience, improvisation and a whole lotta prep work. Also like love, if you're doing it right, all the effort is worth it in the end. Feel free to quote me on that.

Last night I was craving Confetti Rice, a dish The Chiro took to making for me when I wasn't feeling well and was eating plain white rice day after day. He worried that I would get bored with my monochromatic meals and started adding different ingredients each time.

We never had a name for the dish until now.

Last night he chopped dark purple cabbage, ripe red bell pepper, and vibrant green italian parsely, minced two cloves of garlic and sauteed these in butter and olive oil with pine nuts and shredded carrots. All the while, the white and brown mix of basmati rices was bubbling.

He stirred the veggies as I snapped photos and suddenly asked me, "Can we call this Rainbow Rice?"
I laughed at the absurdity of the name, although in this variation it was entirely apt. "What happens though, when there isn't any cabbage or bell pepper?" I asked. "Wouldn't "Refrigerator rice be more fitting? You know, since we throw in whatever is in the fridge?"
He thought for a moment as he added the cooked rice, a pinch of saffron, a squeeze of lemon, a sprinkling of salt and pepper and a bunch of turmeric. He looked up at me. "Confetti Rice, then" he said. "In honor of your birthday."

So Confetti Rice it is.

Love and eating well

For me, the two are intertwined.

I just had the best frittata ever. Who knows, though. Maybe I'm just saying that because I am the one who made it?

The Chiro and I had set out early Sunday morning because we'd heard there was a farmer's market in the area. Since he works on Saturdays, we'd decided to hit the market on Sunday and see what looked appealing. When we arrived, laughing and holding hands, we realized that what was supposed to be a Sunday morning farmer's market, was now a new set of condominiums.

Whoops.

Luckily though, there was a New Seasons Market a block away, and we still wanted to buy some fresh vegetables. If any of you are lucky enough to have a New Seasons then you'll know what I mean when I talk about the allure of the produce section. I watched a woman hand-stack the kiwis for best presentation. A man who worked there was refilling in the baby bok choy where people had taken a few stalks, so that it looked inviting. (I'll admit, I was one of the people. Ginger tofu-vegetable stir fry anyone?) I just love that store! Plus, they carry really good frozen gluten free waffles (Van's brand).

Anyway, after wandering the aisles for an hour, we headed home to make some breakfast. While he put the groceries away and rinsed the firm, plump green grapes for us to snack on, I whisked 5 eggs with a handful of shredded carrots, a splash of milk, half a diced red bell pepper, one stalk of fresh spring onion and some minced garlic. I also added a splash of rice milk (The Chiro doesn't tolerate dairy really well) and a pinch of Vignalta herbed sea salt, my FAVORITE seasoning.

I melted some butter in a pan int eh oven and then poured this eggy mixture into the pan and baked it until it puffed up, then topped it with some crumbled feta cheese and baked it for 3 minutes more (so the cheese would soften). After plating it, we added a few forkfuls of Emerald valley salsa (grown locally in Eurene!) and gobbled the meal up before I had a chance to grab my camera and photograph the delectable meal. Really, I am sorry to deprive you all... it was beautiful sitting in the pan, but I had more use for it in my tummy!

I need a name

I've been thinking a lot about the poetry of our lives: That timeless ebb and flow of our days changing into nights and back into days. So often we get caught up in all the things we "have to do" and we forget to step back, relax, and smell the bread baking or the hyacinths in bloom.

I love to bake, but haven't done much of it lately. Part of that is because I'm afraid to try gluten free recipes (what if they fail miserably?), and part of that is that I have been so busy during my week that I just want to relax on the weekend and not "have to do" anything. Except maybe laundry.

Clean underpinnings are a good thing.

Someone once asked me what name I would have were my current one to flee, and I had a hard time choosing one. I think I finally settled on "ginger" thinking both of the spiky white fragrant flowers on those Hawaiian trees that I love to adorn my hair, and of the spicy seasoning that can play either naughty or nice (triple ginger chocolate cake versus a relatively sedate stir fry). I'm not so sure Ginger suits me anymore.

It's a funny thing about names, that our parents (usually) put in a lot of time and effort into choosing one imbued with meaning that they hope will fit us, and then by the time we are 8 or so, we've decided that we need a different name and so we pick alter egos and pseudonyms. Well, now I need a pseudonym for a top-secret assignment (I can't tell you any more about that or I'd have to kill you and I really don't want to kill you. I just washed this shirt). What I CAN tell you though, is that the name needs to reflect, not just who I AM, but who I'd like to be: Someone magnetic, passionate, vibrant, sassy, and maybe just a tad dangerous.

My mother recommended Veronica Franco to me. The main character in the movie "Dangerous Beauty," Veronica was a 16th century poetess... and courtesan. And as much as I like her ability to charm anyone she meets, I just can't reconcile being named after a hooker.

So the search continues...

We learn through our mis-steps

Blogging is a curious thing, isn't it? In a world that is increasingly reliant on technology (email, cell phones, computers, GPS sytems), it's easy to feel disconnected from one another. We spend less face to face time and more time playing with our various gadgets. But technology also can allow us to connect with people we might not otherwise encounter.
I remember when blogs first became popular: they served as more of an online personal diary and method of confession than anything else, and certainly there are blogs whose primary function is still to do that. But there are also the blogs that you find that make you feel understood, less alone, more normal.

Right after I discovered that I shouldn't eat gluten, I went through the grief stages of mourning my usual lunches and dinners. I became an avid ingredients reader, and tried some variations of recipes that turned out abysmally (DONT try to use an all purpose GF flour with your normal pizza dough recipe... needs some tweaking to come out edible!). In a search for gluten free dining, I stumbled across Gluten Free Girl's blog (and have included a link here). I was hooked after reading the first entry. She's got Celiac's Disease and her sweetie pie is a chef (!). She loves food and the way she writes about the joy, the passion that surrounds food reminds me of me. She also happens to be a very good writer and is a joy to read.

Her recipes have excited me (and I can't wait to try a few out this weekend), and reading about her exploits has reminded me that there are many, many people out there with food allergies, and there are many many recipe options.

I know that one of my biggest challenges to overcome is not in finding gluten free foods I can eat, but in experimenting with recipes. I tell my friends that no one is perfect (indeed, I told The Chiro that when we first started dating and he mentioned that he thought I was perfect for him), and yet I still don't want to make any mistakes. It seems that much worse when someone else witnesses my mistakes, but if I am afraid to play, then however will I learn?

This is a theme that comes up in my dancing as well. I have advanced through the ranks quite quickly, and yet still find flaws I want to iron out. I don't think we ever stop learning, but I have always tended to play it too cautiously.

Last week, I decided to experiment (with said GF flour and making pizza dough). I cooked some chicken breasts with herbed sea salt, summer savory, thyme, oregano and dill and then diced the breasts. I rolled out the pizza dough onto my stoneware and sprinkled olive oil over the crust. I chopped 3 fresh cloves of garlic and spread these over the crust as well and then spread shredded mozzarella and fresh baby spinach leaves of the top of this. I added the cubed chicken pieces, some sliced black olives and some crumbled feta and baked it forever.
The resulting pizza was... passable. The toppings were REALLY good (must remember what I did to the chicken!) The crust was dry, tasteless and slightly gritty from the garbonzo and fava beans in the flour mix. The most depressing thing about this whole experiment is that I spent $23 and 2 1/2 hours making this pizza, when I could have gone to papa murphys and gotten their herbed chicken Mediterranean pizza and just not eaten the dough (savings: $15 and 2 hours, includes drive time). Ah well, I know better now.

On her website, Shauna (the Gluten Free girl) mentions that Whole foods has an awesome gluten free pizza crust.
I shall have to try that next time I want to experiment.

There is a certain element to cooking that is like an elaborate dance. Like the form of tribal bellydance that I've been learning, much of cooking is improvisational. Oh sure, you have your rough guidelines (recipes, utensils, etc) but there is a certain grace to someone who is at ease in the kitchen, a flow to their movements.

As my 29th birthday approaches, I wish for myself the confidence to experiment, to takes risks, to play, and to learn. Afterall, as I keep reminding my friends, there is no failure: only feedback!

A Pasta-free Trip to Italy?

Well it's been ages since I've written anything and I have to apologize, my darlings. I hope you weren't terribly lonesome while I was off gallivanting and having fun?
Okay, I wasn't really: I was sick and stressed out and tired of feeling awful, but I figured out that I have a wheat intolerance and it was only a matter of eliminating it from my diet and VOILA! I feel much better. Of course, there was an adjustment period where all I ate was rice (and protein drinks). I was pretty cranky (not just because I wasn't getting enough nutrients, but also because I felt like the entire world of food I could have had just shrunk). I've always been a person who's derived such pleasure out of eating: sampling foods and sharing meals and laughing and socializing have all revolved around food for me. In addition, I love to cook and bake and that's one of the ways I show my love for the people around me. I can certainly still do all that, only now, I can't eat a majority of what I love preparing. On the upside: I'll be really healthy if I stick to my regimented diet (rice, protein, veggies, all fruits except blackberries, strawberries, melons, and oranges). Luckily, enough people are wheat intolerant that there are options in the stores for pasta made from rice flour.
Cooking mixes too, although nothing I've tasted thus far (with the exception of Van's WheatFree Waffles) are palatable.
If anyone knows of any kickass recipes for cinnamon rolls or cookies made with rice flour (or PIZZA DOUGH: I tried to make wheat-free pizza last night and... the toppings were really good. Yup. That's about all I'll say about that) please send them my way!

On a whole other note: I'm going to Italy! I can't wait, particularly since I started learning the language last year, with no trip in sight. People would ask me if I was going to go to Italy, and I'd reply "Of course I am. I just don't know when..." Well, the plane and hotels are all booked now and I couldn't be more ecstatic. We're flying into Milan on June 27th and staying the night there. In the morning we'll head to Cinque Terre for a nice relaxing 4 night stay in Vernazza. I'm particularly excited about this because we'll be able to relax on la spiaggia and swim in the Mediterranean and eat PESTO! Mmmm. Ligurian pesto (where the blend originated) is the best I've ever had. I still don't know if I'll be able to eat the pesto on the region's specialty pasta, trofie (it looks like little pale worms on the plate with mushed up grass from the bright green of the pesto). Mmm. There's a possibility that the wheat over there won't bother me because it's not genetically modified, but we shall see. If not, then I'll eat pesto on greenbeans, another specialty there!

While in CT, we'll take a day trip by train to Pisa (gotta see that crazy leaning tower!) and then head on to Florence. I am SO excited about this part. It's the birthplace of the Renaissance... which means art... I'm gonna go see The David's chiseled derrier! While in florence, we are also going to take a bike tour of the tuscan hills overlooking the city. Should be a blast! Then we head over to Venice, which I've heard people either LOVE or are totally indifferent to. There seems to be no middle ground (but I DO think it's interesting that the people who love the city tend to go with a romantic partner whereas the others have gone with a tour of strangers or a group of friends). Since I'll be there with my BF, I'm sure I'll love it. Plus...have you ever seen the movie Dangerous Beauty? Sigh.

After Venice, where we are going to take a cooking class and a daytrip to hike in the Dolomites, we head to Verona for 3 days to see the opera. Check this link out for the location of the Opera. Eccellente, no?

Then, a quick one night stay back in Milan before we fly out on July 14th. I am SO excited. If you know of anyplace I simply MUST go, please let me know. I'm always open to restaurant suggestions too!

It's been fun trying to practice my Italian as I email the owners of beds and breakfasts and make reservations... I have gotten really good at asking for a room for two with a shower and toilet...

Be My Valentine?

Yesterday was Valentine's day, a holiday I usually try to pretend doesn't exist. I adore those big romantic gestures, but I think they should come everyday and not just because an overly commercialized holiday tells you to go buy flowers and chocolate (though yes, I both bought and received the same). The thing about V day is that it can set people up to have high expectations and then feel disappointment when things don't play out the way you'd hoped.

Two years ago, V day fell just two weeks after a beau had ended a relationship with me. We'd talked about going to the Melting Pot to get fondue (my favorite restaurant) and then suddenly I found myself without plans and determined not to sit at home alone, bitter about the holiday. Why SHOULDN'T I still have fondue, just because I didn't have a date or a boyfriend? I called a bunch of my single girlfriends and planned a "Who needs cupid when there's chocolate?" fondue party... which ended up being a blast! Everyone brought a different dipper or two and I made first a cheese and then a chocolate fondue to be dipped into. I had fun buying party favors and candies, and made goodie bags, like what you used to get at birthday parties when you were in elementary school. We ended up with about 8 people there, and dressed up, put fun music on the radio, ate some yummy food and socialized. I had decorated my house with red and white christmas lights, a red table cloth with pink and white candles on it, and served red and white wine and pink punch. Seriously... it was so much fun, and my friends brought me little hostess gifts: a beautiful bouquet of pink tulips, sweet heartfelt cards, and a funny magnet for my fridge.

I think it's a shame that there's such commercialized emphasis placed on a day that was originally about uniting lovers in secret (as one legend goes). Why can't every day be about celebrating your love? And why are flowers three times more expensive on the days leading up to February 14th than they are the whole rest of the year? Here's my challenge to you: Pick three random dates between now and New Year's Eve. Mark on your calendar "Valentine's Day, Part 2" or 3 or 4 and then on that day, celebrate your love and affection with those in your inner circle. You need not tell them WHY you are sharing your love with them on, say, May 17. It will be enough that you are. Life is made richer by the love we put into it, and relationships blossom better than overpriced roses when you make an effort to express your gratitude. I charge you to add a little magic into your life and see what happens. And I want to hear what happens when you've done this.

Go forth in love and magic and the spirit of Valentine's day!

What I believe...

I believe that a piece of chocolate a day is good for you.

I believe that sunshine can make you happy.

I believe that fresh flowers brighten up a room, that snuggling raises endorphins, and that laughter truly is the best medicine.

I believe in dancing in the rain, jumping in puddles, and then taking a warm bath afterward.

I believe that a smile can alter someone's day, that a heartfelt thanks or heartfelt apology can protect a friendship, and that a hug can cure most minor ailments.

I believe in putting your best foot forward, acting with integrity, and treating others with the respect you wish to be afforded.

I believe that music can lift your mood, that the ocean is powerfully mighty, and that living honorably means living honestly.

I believe that good food can nourish your soul, as well as your body, and that a meal shared with friends can taste better than that same meal taken alone.

I believe you should let the people close to you know how you feel about them, and that you should do this often.

I believe that water is incredibly soothing, fire is mesmerizing and that success is determined more from the quality of your relationships than the quantity of your possessions.

I believe that home is your sanctuary, that high thread count can mean a better night's sleep, and that with great risk comes great reward.

I believe in leaving this world a better place than you found it, and that small changes can make a large difference.

But mostly, I believe in love.

Blessings

I wish you as much love and joy as your heart can handle, and then some. I wish you as much financial abundance as your bank account can handle, and then some. I wish you as many friends as you can handle, and then some. I wish an openness to life's miracles upon each of you. Maybe you be blessed beyond your wildest dreams, and then some.

Love, joy, laughter and light

I might...

I used to write poems quite often and then sometime around May, I was unable to write. This one came into my head the other night when I was SUPPOSED to be sleeping so I wrote it down to get it out of my head so that I COULD sleep. And now I'm sharing it with you.

I might

I might drive too fast. I might sing off key. I might eat too much sugar and stay up too late and dance around my living room to music that's turned up too loud. I might choose a yoga class to recenter myself over drinks with friends. I might love working out more for how alive it makes me feel than to fit into a certain dress size. I might be a really good cook but eat cereal for dinner. I might use coffee grounds to fertilize my roses. I might love frolicking in the ocean waves, even when the water is only 50 degrees. I might grow rosemary really well but have a black thumb when it comes to basil. But I might buy basil plants anyway. I might dance with joy every day for two weeks and then need a day to myself to rejuvenate. I might buy flowers for random people, just to thank them for doing a thankless job. I might spend too much on high heel shoes and organic farmer's market produce. I might wrote poems for a birthday, or no reason at all. I might horde the crossword puzzle on Sundays and jump in mud puddles and drink hot cocoa with 11 mini marshmallows in it. I might twirl around until I collapse with joy and dizziness, and I might cry at happy movies.

I might love too deeply and live too honestly and give too much to my favorite people.

But I am blissfully happy.

The Essence of Om

That I am a go-getter would surprise no one. I am learning to speak Italian, play the guitar, and bellydance. I am taking some cooking classes at Sur La Table this month (and I'm very excited about all of it). Everyone tends to make New Year's resolutions about things they think they should avoid, or other things they think they should do, but I find resolutions to be highly ineffective. Instead of actually propelling you to DO these things, it creates resistance and a feeling of obligation. If you really wanted to do what's on your list, you would just go out there and DO them and not wait for "someday."
What about TOday? Why wait for someday? And if the idea of doing it doesn't excite you and fill you with passion, why not cross it off your to-do list.

I told a friend of mine that i was taking these cooking classes and he said, "Neat. Someday, when I get a bigger kitchen, I want to learn to cook." I told him that he doesn't have to put it off and that the kitchen was just an excuse. If it were really important to him, he could do it NOW, and if it's not important to him, then that's okay, but to at least be honest with himself.

And in that spirit, I've been thinking about buying or starting up my own little spiritual/metaphysical store/healing center and I finally chose a name I think I really like, AND I registered it on the web (I now am the proud owner of 2 website domain names!) Now to figure out how to set up a website, and to get a logo, and write the business plan (which I've started) and get the investors/loans and find a location and start buying inventory...

Yes. I have a long road ahead of me, but it's something I am passionate about and am excited to be doing.

I'm sorry for the rambly, jumbly message, but I just wanted to put this all out there so you all could put some good mojo into the world for me. Thank you!

Love and Light!