Gmail reads your mind

Here's what the ticker says:
Yahoo! News: Entertainment News - Harrison Ford for President? (E! Online)

It's like they really read your mind! It wasn't even two months ago that my sister and I were watching "Air Force One" on TBS while at a Westin in D.C., watching Harrison Ford kicking ass, knowing how to use a gun, speaking perfect Russian... GEEZ, we thought, is that too much to ask for in a president? Sure, so he's just an actor and he probably had a language coach to teach him those Russian sentences peppered throughout the hijacked scene. But is it too much for us to envision a leader of our country that, at his very normal level, possesses the following?:

Grit, perseverence and dedication to his family, his advisers, his country
Understanding of a world outside, and a demonstration of that knowledge
Fearlessness
Knowing good from evil
Willing to die for his family
Knowing all things from the most tedious technical thing to bigger, more general diplomatic matters

...

Wishful thinking? Yeah, probably.

Resisting temptation

What would you have me do? My weakness is this indecision.

Thanks to a conversation with Adrianne, I've started to think seriously about taking a weekend in Prague in December, before she comes back.

Thanks to a search engine, me and my sister have found some enticing packages for that Iceland vacation we've long been talking about.

I am trying to convince myself that I can't do both (while pursuing this music career).

So I know Iceland is the better choice.

But give me 30 min. and I could just as easily change my mind...

Hackey sack

Just another day in the office. I think I'm mentally still on the weekend because I wasn't my usual busy-body Monday self. I spent most of the day just reading papers - nurturing my inner political junkie... I managed to get a bit of work done in the last three hours, but it's been a multi-tasking ping pong.

What a weekend... not that it was hectic - that might be this coming weekend. :-/ I spent Friday at home, working on my friend Eric's song. He asked me to record violin parts on it last year and it took me this long to finally get to it. I decided, to make it up to him, to add djembe and piano and to put in multiple violin tracks. I ended up having three different violin tracks and the djembe really changed the song. He liked it a lot, so I felt accomplished with my four hours of work. Time flies when you're playing music.

It was a task to get me out of bed at 7:30 in the morning Saturday, but it turned out for the best. My sister had me to zumba with her at 8 a.m. It was fun - and I only needed a 1.5 hour nap to get me back to life. I spent the rest of the day in Ringwood, checking out BJ and Annie's new house and the nearby NJ State Botanical Gardens. The views and the lakes up there are to die for, especially with the changing foliage. They are also taking care of a friend's dog, an adorable Shar-pei named Sam from the Philippines. He's so sweet-tempered, he's like a cat with a smushy face. I played them some music too, to thank them for the delicious cake, which ended with home-made apple pie. I spent the rest of the night at home, and unable to sleep.

Sunday I went to church then went up to Bear Mountain with Rob to check out Oktoberfest. It was full of people, but probably not half the boisterous party of Munich. Hessian Lake was gorgeous so we strolled around, walking off the Saurbaten and pierogies (random!). A lot of walking this weekend... never a bad thing.

Painful sentimentality...in hopes of joyful transformations

Spent the night tossing and turning after staying up to read about 150 pages of Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being." The only thing unbearable right now is that book. How to describe it, let's see. Painful sentimentality is the first phrase that comes to mind. It literally hurts to read it, but it's addictive somehow. The characters draw you in and the stories immerse the reader, but for me, it just reminds me how much I miss Europe. It reminds me what that time in my life symbolized for me...discovery, adventure, the hope of the unknown. For weeks now I've been fighting this inkling that maybe I'm at a crossroads, and I could be headed for stagnation if I don't wake up soon. I don't know. Have I numbed myself so direly after that traumatic breakup over two years ago? I refuse to believe it is all caused by a boy issue. But I can't pretend I'm a solid rock. I spent the last two years avoiding my Xanga. A few months ago I attempted to log in again and found that I'd forgotten the password. Maybe it is better that way, because those private entries are entryways to such a weak, ignorant side of me... one that thought there could be no room for love after heartache; one that thought I could pivot my happiness on a disappointment of a relationship I once hung perfection upon, like a top hat- just an accessory all the same. So I got onto the Xanga page on the public side, a few minutes ago, surrendered to this unwillingness to fade into sleep. Tears were already rolling down my eyes when I lay in bed, I realized how awful it is of me not to have called Isabelle in over a year. I keep thinking how old she is, and I hope-somewhat morbidly-that she's still alive. If she's not, I can't imagine the guilt. I need to call her tomorrow and know that she's okay, know that I haven't abandoned her. I wanted to find out her number and I knew it was in my Xanga somewhere. I first wondered what took me so long to pick out the information, as I knew for a long time it was there, and I didn't even need to log in. I guess I was fearful of everything else I would see - a different time in my life; one that I'd forgotten how to feel about. I saw the entries from my time there, and it made me happy . . . surprisingly. I was just happy I'd gone through it, and more absorbed by that feeling than the nagging knowledge that it isn't where I am now. I think there's a redeeming quality in me here, maybe... I'm starting to accept where I am right now is where I need to be.

But that is no reason to be complacent.


... God give me strength.

A four-day birthday

Friday night - dinner with Rob at Blue Hill, that restaurant I "worked" at during college. But before we went in, he gave me my present: a custom made buttercup gold necklace with a tiny diamond in the center (still 2 kt but I never would have even known there was a diamond in it...I'm such a non-girl). He then gave me his bday "card", which was really a 96-page notepad where he'd filled out "96 reasons why I love you" complete with illustrations. I loved him even more. :)
Blue Hill was lovely, and the food was so fresh. Rob's appetizer was called "This morning's farm egg" and it really tasted deliciously fresh. It's amazing that the concept of bringing the consumer closer to the source of the food becomes such a novelty in Manhattan, that an institution can charge upwards of $32 on dishes because the ingredients were cultivated in a farm a few miles north. Don't get me wrong, the service was impeccable (probably rivaled only by the service at Le Perigord)- laid back but attentive, and the food was really good. But the prices... yeesh. I thought it was worth it, though Rob might think otherwise. They started us off with fresh cauliflower samples, each one dipped in a different sauce. I had a delicious white wine - can't even say from where... Rob had red. I started off with corn ravioli and Rob had the farm egg. For entrees, I had the Stone Barn Bass, which was baked in a cilantro-based sauce with cauliflower and served in a shallow bowl. I could have done with a little less sauce, but it was still good. Rob had the braised eggplant. Dessert was to die for... I had a lemon cake with raspberry sorbet and this delicious sweetend plum. Rob had the blueberry with homemade honey and yogurt.
Afterwards we took the train to South St., hoping to catch the Waterfalls before they closed. Sadly, they turned them off by the time we got there. We sat watching the water for a while before grabbing drinks nearby and then heading back up to Burrito Loco, where I finally got him to try the cucarracha burracha. Yesss... topped off with some fresh guacamole, and the night ended perfectly.

The first part of Saturday was chaotic, trying to pick up a bunch of people from the bus station, feeding them their first meal, figuring out who would sit in what car (Rob offered to drive), and then getting out to Stony Hill Farms in Chester,NJ. It was a bit awkward, having so many people there from all walks of life, and then meeting up with more when we got there, but the day did get pretty fun. The first ice-breaker was doing a bunch of waves on the hayride. Then we picked pumpkins, which made for some cool photo ops if anything else. Rob still has to teach me how to carve mine... I picked him an "odd" looking one, with a ghoulish figure. :) He got me a quite perfect one, though it was 16 pounds. We got to apple and veggie picking before heading off to the corn maze. It took us a good hour and a half to get out of there, after breaking off into groups, and eventually exiting through the entrance. :-/ Oh well. It was fun anyway. We capped it off with dinner at Coach House diner, and Derek was nice enough to surprise me with a candled cake. :)


Sunday was church. We brought this delicious cake from Costco (surprise, surprise), thanks to Grandma, who also got me gorgeous orchids. Me and Ate Faye played "I'll Walk with God". Then we went to East Japanese with Uncle Romy and Auntie Prossy, Auntie Gladys and Uncle Danny, Bibok and some of their fam from Toronto. They got me some cool stuff from Anthropologie, which was neat since I never shop at that store.

Monday was a fun surprise. Not one, but TWO djembes from Toca. I still can't believe it... they both cost almost 500 dollars, but I got them sent to me by the manager of the Toca store in Garfield. I'm hoping they can contribute to some very cool live shows coming up. Then Jess came by with a small dessert that had a pink candle on it. She gave me this awesome kalimba that I had fallen in love with at Inay. :) it was a great way to cap it all off. . .

Now I'm battling an ear clog and hope it goes away soon....

That one

It's day five of this cold I developed while up in Boston over the weekend. The cold started as a nasal drip after Friday night, when I was staying with one of Rob's friends in Providence. It remained a very annoying nasal drip throughout Saturday and into my gig at B.U. but became a full-fledged cold by the next day. Rob was nothing but a sweetheart, buying me tea, making sure I had everything I needed, reminding me to pick up some medicine and Puffs when we stopped by a supermarket. He also did something my ex wasn't as great as - he gave me my space just before my gig. I find I have the hardest time with this. I'm naturally a very affectionate person, but just before gigs I really need solitude to focus. Rob seemed to just know it. He didn't follow me to my dressing room before the show, and when he called it was only to ask if I wanted some tea.

Saturday I managed to gather Danny Katz and Eric, who I would stay with that night, together for lunch with me, Rob, Paul and Sam. Then Danny and Eric left and the rest of us walked around the Fenway for a bit, around enemy territory (hehe) before heading back to the venue. I was getting prepped, but Rob and Paul insisted on taking a nap on a small grassy patch on Comm Ave. It was cute. Sam, self-conscious, wasn't sure what to do.

That night we met up with Seb, who managed to catch my set and the rest of the show. He offered to make us dinner, since I was sick, so the night became a semi-fruition of a little-known fantasy of two guys making me dinner. :) Two good-looking guys, one with a French accent. haha. Seb made ratatouille, some baked trout with rice and a salad. All was delicious, though my sickness made me lose some appetite, and a few taste buds. We just lounged around on his air bed for a little while before Eric came to pick us up.

I'm glad we stayed with Eric because he had a really comfortable pad with a futon - which is really what we needed. I tend to move around a lot and deprive Rob of sleep. The futon muffled movement, so that was great.

Eric took us to a great Pho place in Harvard Square. It was perfect for my cold and Rob finally got some good vegetarian food. We made it home around 7:30 after picking up some fried chicken for my sister.

Snack ache

Right around 3 p.m. I always hit this crossroad where my stomach is just fine but my mind wants me to believe that it is yearning for more food. What results is a lingering craving for a snack - often something salty to hold me over until the next installation of serious food. I know it's just my mind playing games, and my conscience always tells my mind off, but my stomach is the real victim here, never knowing what to think, how to feel. The more my stomach tries to ignore it, the more it thinks it's actually hungry after all. Then it becomes a battle of principle for my conscience and my mind becomes the "innocent bystander" who shrugs and says, "I didn't do it."

Ah for a bag of fritos.

No - you're not really hungry, you're just bored and want something to do other than tedious desk work.

Yes, but that splash of flavor...that irrestistible crunch.

Remember, you are stronger than this. You can wait another two and a half hours for a real meal.

But it's just a little snack. What could it hurt? And I'll get to take a short walk...

You're just trying to ignore what's sitting in front of you.

Well, so what if I am?

Ah - I thought you were better than this.



See my problem?