Publishing Fest

Coming soon: An entry on the publishing festival

Happy Easter!

I borrowed this image from a Catholic web site. Isn't it pretty?

It's Easter, so today I wanted to do something simple: go to church. I just wanted to gather with other people and pray and sing. I went online and found a United Methodist within walking distance. I put on nice clothes and set off. About half an hour later, I was there though a bit chilly. The church was gorgeous.

I went in, got a bulletin from the usher and sat down. Next thing I knew...tap, tap, tap. A young man had sat down behind me. I shook hands with him and we exchanged introductions.

Now I must admit that I have complained more than once about not being able to meet any nice young Christian guys. Heck, nice young men of any faith. I got so discouraged by all the atheist guys that at one point I would have been happy with a nice Jewish guy or even a Buddhist. At least they believe in something, even if it's not what I believe in. Well, be careful what you wish for.

This guy, Bradford, started asking me for information. I told him I went to ODU, getting an MFA in poetry. He shared that he is a theology student at some other university in town. He was decent-looking, but during the course of this brief conversation, he had already touched my shoulder more times than I was comfortable with. Then he said something about graduate studies seeming endless, "like perpetual dripping [or something equally weird] from the lips." And then he touched my bottom lip! Eeeeewww! We'd known each other for two minutes! We were in church! Seriously, WHAT!?!

In a bar, a dating-type-place, that would have been inappropriate. I would have told him off. In church, it was much more inappropriate, but telling him off felt inappropriate, too. I must have looked horrified. Instead of catching the hint, he said, "I hope you'll let me take you out to dinner after church." "Oh, er, no," I stuttered, "I have plans." Plans to go home. Plans to not go out with you. "Well then I hope you'll let me take you out later this week." "Oh, I don't know," I replied awkwardly, feeling trapped. Luckily, the service started.

The congregation was really small. I thought it might just be because they'd had a sunrise service, but I was informed "We're small on people, but big on heart." During the sermon, the pastor (who has a lovely voice) informed us, "People complain, 'So-and-so just passed away, and no one new is coming in.' I don't put up with that. I say, 'Bring people in!'" Good point, but on the other hand, way to pass the buck! I had to work hard to find his church online, and since getting home I've examined the site more closely. It's the most old-fashioned Methodist Church I've ever come across. They're not using any innovative methods to attract new members. The minister's preaching in general doesn't seem to mesh with the the Wesleyan Quadrilateral (understanding religion as the interplay of scripture, tradition, reason, and experience). Whatever.

Meanwhile, Bradford, as a future minister, felt the need to pray louder than the minister or the congregation during shared responses. Unfortunately, he was faster than everyone else. When we sang, he sang loudest, even though he was faster than everyone else and slightly off-key. He would even mutter corrections to the sermon. Okaaay....Even if he hadn't hit on me, I would have found him annoying. I kept thinking to myself, "Being annoyed at him isn't Christian. Tolerance...love...see God in everyone..."

I didn't find my new church home, but I got to worship, pray and sing. That's what matters most. Then, the minute the service was over (while Bradford was chatting with someone else), I booked it! I was halfway to the door when he called out, "Erin!" I turned, smiled a friendly smile, waved and just kept going...quickly! On the walk home, I enjoyed the sunshine, the flowers in people's gardens, the trees in bloom, many robins and a blue jay-- spring, and new life all around. Happy Easter, everyone.

Care Package!

I spent the second half of Spring Break occasionally exploring the neighborhood, but mostly alone in my apartment. It was a bit depressing. Classes started again, and I enjoyed teaching. I also got back two midterms. I got 98 percent on one and an A- from the tough grader. Not bad at all!

My Thursday class was canceled so I snagged a ride and got to hear the visiting poet-in-residence, Richard Jones read at a local book store (photo from Americanpoems.com). It was a funny reading, because he's from the area, so his family was there...kind of heckling him! Well, not heckling, exactly, but it was like there was no fourth wall. Before starting a poem, he'd explain something about it to his mom. His sister would add a funny comment after a poem. It was a lot of fun.

Jones is giving a class, which I couldn't afford. It's an extra class, so it isn't covered by my tuition waiver, but there were limited spots available to submit poems and meet with him one-on-one and get his feedback on our work. I was the first one to sign up. Jones was nice. He made some great suggestions on two poems and really loved the third as-is, which is helpful, because I've been having a little crisis of confidence. We also discussed my career options, and he gave me some good advice.

Unfortunately, things are not going as well for Moxie. Her leaves look fine, but she's lost all but two blooms. Too much water? Not enough? Does she need fertilizer? I've heard they bloom nine months and rest three. Is it resting time? Oh, poor Moxie. I just hope my brown thumb hasn't struck again.

Mom called recently to alert me that a care package was coming "for Easter and also to give you a chocolate fix." Music to my ears! Then on Friday the package arrived. Inside were four boxes of Thin Mints (!), two bags of jelly beans, four Cadbury Eggs, five Milky Way eggs, twenty peeps in pink and yellow, three books and a DVD set of Snowy River: The MacGregor Saga.

My family has a fondness for The Man from Snowy River (photo at left stolen from the internet). It's a 1982 Australian Western based on a poem by Banjo Paterson wherein a really valuable horse is lost, and it's fallen in with wild horses. All the mountain horsemen gather to find it, including a teenager (Jim Craig) on a scrubby mountain horse. At first they don't want him to come, but they let him, and he's the only one brave enough to chase the horses straight down the steep face of the mountain. He brings back the horses on his own.

The movie features Kirk Douglas in a dual role, a love plot, beautiful cinematography, and fabulous music, which was used as the music for the recent Olympics in Australia. Sometimes it plays like a cheesy made-for-TV movie, but sometimes it's just...awesome. The love I have for the movie is a nostalgic love, born of the many times my family watched it with our friends the Van Arkels. One of the girls once commented that she's looking for her own Jim Craig. It's short hand for a smart, reasonably sensitive, yet tough-and-outdoorsy guy. Amen, sister.

In the TV version, the rider's name was Jim MacGregor. The action takes place twenty years after the big ride, and centers around his life with his family and other people around town, including a young Hugh Jackman. It's a cute show and adds to my depleted DVD collection.

As for the junk food, I was thrilled and proceeded to give myself a tummy ache. I quickly stored the rest in a plastic bin in my closet (out of sight, out of mind). The next day, I worked out for an hour to burn off the thousand extra pure-sugar calories I ate. Now I'm trying to ration it sensibly. Warming a Peep in the microwave, then eating it between two Thin Mints is sensible, right? Thanks, Mom and Dad, for yummy Easter candy goodness!

Spring Break, WOOO!

(At left, two dead blossoms I trimmed from Moxie.)

Spring Break, woo?

I admit, I've had a love-hate relationship with this Spring Break. I wanted to visit my family, but plane tickets were in the $900 range. I wanted to visit my friends in NYC, but we're all playing phone tag. Everyone I know here is out of town for vacation. The weather's not nice enough to be worth the hour-long bus ride to Virginia Beach (It's only half an hour by car). I also realized I have 54 three-page papers to grade and reading to do. My vacation suddenly seems a lot shorter!

I spent the weekend recharging and being quite lazy. I ordered Chinese food for the first time in many months (Restaurant food isn't generally in my budget.) and proceeded to eat portions of it for the next five lunches and suppers. It was awesome. I also watched 300 and had a Veronica Mars marathon. I've come to love the television series so much that it's one of the few things I've replaced, post-burglary. Luckily, Amazon.com had an amazing discount. Humor and teen-angst film-noir style? Yes, please.

Yesterday, I ran out of fresh fruit, veggies and Chinese leftovers, so I strapped on my backpack and hiked over to the grocery store in Ghent. I've been told Ghent is Norfolk's answer to the Village in NYC. Well, there are some ethnic restaurants, bourgeois (read expensive and fancy) grocery stores, a theater, and an art-house movie theater, but that's where the similarities end.

On the walk back, I realized why walking here creeps me out in a way that it never did in Des Moines, Storm Lake, Sevilla, Harlem, Spanish Harlem or the Bronx. I live pretty close to the university and fifteen minutes from Ghent. My apartment is in a "transitioning" neighborhood, surrounded by a mixture of student housing, low-income housing and family housing. The thing is, the buildings are widely spaced, but there are lots of fences and trees blocking sight-lines. Between my neighborhood and Ghent is an industrial district. In other words, there are all these areas where bad things could happen without witnesses. It also bothers me that as a strong, independent woman, I still have to think about these things. I hate feeling afraid just to walk around.

In my Harlem neighborhood, there were lots of weird guys loitering in front of the liquor store at all times, but they didn't make me nervous the way the loitering guys here do. These guys just stand there, alone or in clumps, all day long. At first I thought they were really bad at being homeless. (Skillful homelessness is done either in high-traffic areas with lots of opportunities for donations or in areas that provide lots of shelter from the elements.) Then I thought they were residents of the local Christian housing unit that doesn't allow alcohol or cigarettes. Perhaps they were just out on the street where they could enjoy a beer and a cigarette and occasionally run into friends. Last week, though, one of them just stood out there in the rain all day long facing the gas station on the corner. Say what?

Now I suspect it's drug-related. You see, quite often, a car is parked at that gas station, and people are always getting in and out of the backseat of that car. When the car isn't there, a cop car usually is. So there's a drug-ring on the corner that the cops are really unsuccessfully trying to stop. Fabulous. (There were dealers in NYC-- and Iowa-- but they always worked really hard to be subtle!) On the plus side, I've always been polite to the standing-around-guys, so they're friendly to me. I feel it's always better for the neighborhood criminals to have vaguely-positive feelings toward you.

When I got to the apartment, I tried cooking stir-fry for the first time. Before I broke down and ordered Chinese food, I'd been craving Thai. I don't know if any of the local Thai restaurants even deliver. Anyway, I wanted to learn to make some myself, so I bought some peanut sauce. Yesterday, I finally got the chance to use it. I found a recipe online. It actually would have allowed me to make my own peanut sauce, but using the stuff from the bottle was easier (not to mention comparably priced and probably spicier). Yum! It tasted so fresh and less fatty than restaurant Thai food. Here's the recipe from Cooks.com, including the make-your-own-sauce. Enjoy, my friends!

THAI CHICKEN STIR-FRY WITH SPICY
PEANUT SAUCE

2 whole chicken breasts, skinned, boned & cut into bite-size pieces (I suggest slicing before it thaws completely. It's easier.)
1/2 c. peanut butter
1/2 c. water
2 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tbsp. brown sugar
2 tbsp. peanut or vegetable oil
2 or 3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper
3 to 4 c. sliced broccoli or spinach

In a small bowl, blend peanut butter, water, soy sauce and sugar; set aside. In a wok or large skillet, heat oil over high heat. Add garlic and pepper; stir-fry 30 seconds. Add chicken, stir-fry until firm and white, about 5 minutes. Add broccoli or spinach, stir-fry until bright green, about 3 minutes. Stir in peanut butter mixture. (If you use the bottled kind, just drizzle it on to taste. I used half of an 11-oz. bottle.) Cook, stirring constantly until sauce is smooth, about 3 minutes. Serves 4. (I served mine on a bed of spaghetti noodles. Rice would also work well.)

It's quick, easy and tasty. Enjoy!

Midterms!

I'm not actually writing this now. This is one of those back-dated entries where I pretend I'm writing them as they're happening. The truth is, I've been too swamped to blog to a long time. Let's just pretend it's February 29, though.

It's been crazy, lately. Last week, I had a big presentation to do for my 18th Century British Literature class. Dr. Jacobs is known for being a tough grader, and that's a reputation he earned before he recently injured his back. He's gone off the pain-killers but is on a lot of muscle-relaxers and withdraw from the painkillers has left him hypersensitive to lights. He has to teach with sunglasses on and can't stay standing or sitting for too long. Even then, he sometimes has to dismiss class early. What am I getting at? Just that a normally-tough grader grouchy from extreme pain may be even tougher. What's more, one of my group members never sent me his info for the Power Point presentation I was preparing. Grr. I ended up working down to the wire to cover for him.

The next week was student conferences, so I had a ton of papers to grade. Then all day Monday and Wednesday was spent meeting individually with my students for half-hour appointments. One student told me, "I feel like I just got out of therapy or something." I thought that was pretty funny.

That pretty much brings us up to "now." I need to calculate all my students' grades and post them online. On top of that, I have an 8-10 page paper due in my Harlem Renaissance class on Tuesday and a 6-page paper due to the tough grader on Thursday. Then I give my students their final on Friday. Then I'll finally have a moment to breathe.










I did recently take a few steps to de-stress. I framed a couple of photos to hang on the blank wall over my bed and hung a mini-shelf. The shelf came with it's own tiny level, which allowed me to hang the shelf and the pictures straight. I own a level now! I decorated my shelf with a couple of candles and...my new African Violet, yay!

And I shall call her Moxie, and she shall thrive! Seriously, though, I've actually managed to keep it alive for weeks now, and it's even bloomier than before. (See photos above.) Hooray! Perhaps I have cured my brown thumb. And if not, well, it's like I bought myself a bouquet that's lasting a really long time.

Wish me luck on midterms.

Cookie Catastrophe!

Okay, catastrophe is a little too strong, but things did go a bit awry and I had to scrape my oven floor clean.

For quite a while, I'd been craving homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. I bought oatmeal and raisins last week at the store, but it was a busy week with papers to write and a major presentation to give. (I think it went pretty well.) Today after I finished teaching my 8 a.m. class, I decided it was time!

I got out all the ingredients and the great little mixer Grandma and Grandpa Staker gave me. The dough was ready in no time, and I spooned eight dollops onto my baking sheet. I didn't have a cookie sheet, so I used my pizza tin, which has holes in it to help pizza crusts bake up nice and crispy.

When the timer went off, I smelled something burning, but the cookies didn't even look done. Then I noticed weird little droppings on the bottom of the oven...and saw another one fall.

I know cookie dough gets melty when it's hot. That's why you have to space your dollops of dough a few inches apart. But for some reason, it never occurred to me that liquifying dough and a holey baking tin might be a troublesome combination...thus, oatmeal raisin stalactites. Hee!

I decided to stop baking for the day until I could get the burning cookie droppings out of the oven. Todd was actually glad. As my chauffeur, he gets a portion of all baked goods. Because of my mishap, he woke up to cookie dough instead of cookies, and as it turns out, that's just how he likes it. Heh. Cookie dough is quite enjoyable, but I did go out and buy a solid cookie sheet for next time.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I've always liked the holiday, with or without a boyfriends. It's the best thing about cold and gross February, as well as an excuse to give your friends cards and candy (and receive the same in return). If nothing else, there is awesome discount candy available the day after.

One of my favorite Valentine's Days was one with a boyfriend. When I was 16, I was dating Doug. I was scheduled to cheerlead in a basketball game at Doug's school, but he wasn't going to be there because he had to work.

Well, I comforted myself that at least I was getting my braces off that day! The dentist removed them and cleaned my teeth. I couldn't stop running my tongue over them because they were so smooth! No more pokey brackets and wires. My smile was so big and bright and straight without braces. (For years after that, people would come up to me and ask if I'd had braces. They would nod with satisfaction and reply, "No one's teeth are that perfect." Hee.)

I was having fun cheering that night, and Doug's sister brought me a bouquet that he sent because he couldn't be there...but then Doug showed up just in time to give me a hug and a kiss before I had to jump on the bus back to Woodward. Aww...high school romance.

This year I made raspberry fudge (perhaps the SMARTEST thing I've EVER done--It's my mom's fudge recipe, but with raspberry extract in place of the regular vanilla) and hand-made Valentines. (Take that candy and card companies! I can have the traditional trappings of Valentine's Day without you.)

I cut out the hearts way back when I had that awful flu. I couldn't concentrate enough to study. I was too nauseated to even sleep, so I started snipping away. More recently, I taped them to some tissue paper. (Note to self: buy glue.) They turned out so cute! I sent one to Mom and Dad. I planned to sent out the others, but I got swamped. Maybe I'll send them out next year. (Hah! I've been telling myself that about my Christmas cards for three years now.)

I hope you all had a great Valentines Day. Remember, it's not just for couples: Valentine's Day is about showing appreciation to anyone who brings love into your life.

Culinary Weekend!

I had another nice week of teaching and learning. I feel like I'm getting back in the swing of scholarship, and teaching is easier this semester because I have sample papers from my former class. Things that took me a week to explain, they got in one day this time. Yay!

Before I knew it, it was Friday. I discovered my bananas were over ripe. On top of it, my roomie Todd (the one who drives me everywhere) was in a sad mood because of a lower-than-expected score on a paper. He loves banana bread, so much so that one family member gives him a loaf of it each year for Christmas. I found a recipe and made us a loaf to share, a surprise which cheered him up quite a bit. I also treated myself to some strawberries at the grocery store. For breakfast, on Saturday and Sunday, I sliced them and ate them with vanilla yogurt. It was so delicious! Then I kicked it up a notch, dipping berries in melted semi-sweet chocolate chips.

Dipping berries is so easy. Just wash the berries. Then make sure they're completely dry and not too cold. Put some chocolate chips (I did about 3/4 cup) in a glass bowl and microwave for 30 seconds. Stir. Microwave 30 more seconds and stir. Dip about 12 berries and set them on waxed paper. Chill them in the fridge until the chocolate sets. I had some left over, so I sliced a banana, put some peanut butter on the slices, then spread chocolate over the peanut butter and chilled that, too. YUM!!!

To end the weekend yumminess, I make turkey noodle soup. We have frozen thanksgiving turkey leftovers in the freezer that should be eaten now or never. Something's not quite right on the recipe card I have. Last time, I had to play around quite a bit, adjusting the water level, spice level and corn starch to get it the right flavor and thickness. By that point, I'd added a little of this, a tad of that, and didn't know what to put on the card. This time, though, it came out great with a lot less trouble. It might not taste just lock Mom's, but it's pretty darn good, if I do say so myself. I mentioned something about experimenting with the next batch. Todd didn't like that. He told me it's so good as it is that he thinks messing with it would be a bad idea: "So please don't. Make it just like this." I laughed and told him, "It's always nice to have someone appreciate your cooking."

GIANTS WIN?!?!

Wow. I'm shocked! I don't even care about sports, and I'm shocked. The last few weeks, you couldn't get away from talk of the Patriots' possible perfect season. Even NPR, the talk radio station that wakes me up each morning, did I bizarre little skit where they acted out a Super Bowl press conference as though it were written by Shakespeare. Click the link for the full text, but here's a sampling: "...Think on it: those called Giants are but dwarfs here, Mere ciphers in the point spread, a goodly dozen down. [...] Yea, the true giants, these peerless monsters, Call themselves Patriots [...]" Oookaaaay... Can you imagine waking up to that? You wake up confused. Really confused. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The last time I posted, I was down with the flu. That Tuesday, the university had a great poet, Nikki Finney, come to speak at a service to celebrate the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. Finney wrote a speech that was basically one long poem. It was full of encouragement for artists, activists, and anyone who contributes to King's concept of a Beloved Community, a community in which all people do their best to respect, love and are for each other. She also encouraged young black scholars, which is so important.

Some of my inner-city middle schoolers (especially the boys) suffered from a lack of educated role models. Many of their parents didn't have degrees. Some of their friends who struggled in school teased them for being geeks, or soft if they worked hard at studying. The young black and Hispanic men in my composition classes tell me the same thing. Some of them say they get more encouragement to take part in street life than to better themselves. Making things harder, as they become more educated, it becomes harder for them to relate to and connect with (even the positive influences in) their friends and family, which further weakens their support system.

I used to try to close the achievement gap for African American and Hispanic children by playing catch-up with middle schoolers. Now I'm working with college students. It occurs to me that having more black and Latino college grads as parents can only help the next generation of students (not to mention the good these grads could do as teachers, community activists, etc.) And just imagine...we're living in a time when our next president might be a black man. America has come a long way.

I spent the rest of that week recovering from the flu. I was frustrated that it was taking so long and went to Student Health Services. The Nurse Practitioner said post-nasal drip was aggravating my nausea. Ew. Okay. So I bought some Claritin D, which did clear up my allergy trouble, but also woke me up in the night. I can't believe I took that stuff every day for many years!

The following week was spent getting back up to speed. I ate more normal food (included the herb chicken I was contemplating last posting), did some exercise and a lot of studying and homework. Then it was the weekend again.

Tom and I had discussed the Giants' prospects a bit. He explained it like this: "When the Giants beat the Cowboys, it was like someone gave me a big bowl of ice cream. Now it's like they're offering me sprinkles. You say, 'Sprinkles? Sure, I'll have some sprinkles!' But what you're really excited about is the ice cream. The Super Bowl? To be honest, I'll be happy if they don't get slaughtered. If they actually won the Super Bowl, though...Erin...it would be like, 'Forget the ice cream. Here's a steak and some 12-year-old scotch.'" Hee.

Now, to be honest, I was not glued to the TV for the game. I was flipping back and forth between it and The Biggest Loser. In my defense, the first half of the game was very slow, in terms of offense. For the longest time, nothing happened. Then, toward the end, hello! With two minutes left, the Patriots scored to retake the lead. But then, in the end, the Giants managed to pull it off. As the New York Times put it, "Manning connected with Plaxico Burress for the winning touchdown, a 13-yard pass with 35 seconds remaining in the game." Hee, Plaxico.

I text-messaged Tom : "STEAK & SCOTCH!!!" He couldn't reply, though, because New York City's cellular system became overloaded, something that usually only happens on New Year's at midnight or in emergencies. I talked to him later, and he informed me that he'd basically had a conniption fit when they won. "I don't know what a conniption is, exactly, but I know I had one. I was lying on the floor, pounding my fists. Picture a two-year-old having a tantrum, only a grown man, and very, very happy." Hee! And this with all of his friends watching.

Well, I'm happy for him and all his friends in New York. Sorry to any of you who were rooting for the Patriots. It would have been neat to see a "Perfect Season." The Giants win did give me a nice lesson for my students: "Just a reminder from the Super Bowl, guys: Even when you're at the top of your game, you have to keep fighting to stay the best. When you're the underdog and no one believes in you, you can prove everyone wrong."

So sick!

(At left: interesting graffiti I saw when I went to the post office.)

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day!

I am not at an optimum level of happiness right now. Well, on the positive side: I got the apartment all cleaned up, I bought some cute new bookshelves to hold my new school books, and I had a lot of fun teaching my new class of students.

Not fun? Puking. Friday I woke up in the middle of the night feeling awful. I went into the bathroom and woke up hours later on the bathroom floor. I went back to bed, then woke up at 5:15 a.m. and had to run to the bathroom to toss my cookies. No fun at all. It's the first time I've thrown up in a long, long time. Ugh. I couldn't reach anyone to call in sick, so I ended up teaching my class anyway. I don't think my students knew anything was off. I tried to stay away from my students, though, and not hand them anything I'd touched, just in case I was contagious.

I spent the rest of the day in bed, drinking a liquid diet (mostly sprite, bouillon, apple juice and Jell-o). I spent the next day on the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast). Yesterday I added soup for lunch, a honey-brushed baked chicken breast for supper and some pudding. Today I may add herbs and spices. Wild, right? Wish me luck.

Thieves are mean!

Remember that “funny” burglary story? The one where someone broke into my apartment, ate ice cream and fled? Not actually what happened at all.

I got home Tuesday feeling exhausted and emotional. I was so sad to leave my friends in New York, and I just wanted to relax. Then I saw the huge mess in the kitchen. There was a ton of mud on the kitchen floor, not to mention melted, molding ice cream. The ice cream was also pooled and molding on the counter. Then, I glanced in my room and noticed that it had clearly been tossed.

My jewelry box had been dumped on my bed. My drawers had been dumped. Storage boxes had been pulled out of my closets and from under my bed and dumped. The box containing my financial info and my checks was open, and the checks had been disturbed. They had even taken the time to pull apart my decorative martini shaker to see if anything was hidden in it. In other words, the story I heard did not match what happened.

I called Todd to ask him again what the story was. He was not happy to hear that we’d been mislead. I noticed that a box of checks had clearly been disturbed in his room, too. I’ve since found out that the burglary actually happened Christmas Eve. As I cleaned, I discovered that the thieves took the opal ring I Mom and Dad got me for Christmas when I was 13, the ruby earrings I got for my 17^th birthday, the digital camera I they got me for graduating from Buena Vista, the fabulous Nikon N50 they got me for graduating from Fordham, my old cell phone, my tape recorders, all of my DVDs and my credit cards.

Our landlord thought he was being nice and not spoiling our holiday by waiting to tell us, but he could have destroyed us financially! The thieves could have emptied our bank accounts and run up our credit card bills! Since I got back, I’ve been cleaning up the mess and trying to protect my finances. I opened a new checking account and ordered all new credit cards. I stopped using credit cards a long time ago. I only had the cards stashed for a major emergency…thus I don’t really remember what they were. Oops. I’m just so afraid that I may have missed one! On a daily basis, I’ll probably miss the DVDs most, I’m most worried about the financial stuff, and I’m most upset about the sentimental items I received as gifts. I’m working on coming to terms with it, though. I remind myself that I’m lucky for all the things they didn’t get, lucky that the thieves hadn’t yet used my checks or cards, and lucky that they can take my mementos, but not my memories.

Now I’m trying to get ready for school on Monday. I’ve been buying textbooks, writing, getting my laptop worked on by the techies (it’s not dead, Hooray! Just the battery’s kaput.), and tweaking my syllabus. I’m so nervous to get my new classroom and my new class! Wish me luck.

Divine, Serendipity and Art

January 2, all my teacher friends had to go back to work. Riza’s landlord is nosy and makes illegal complaints. The landlord doesn’t allow her to have visitors in the house when Riza’s not home. As such, I had to leave the house by 7:30 when Riza left for work. I was in the city before anything was really open.

Luckily, I could get into the Time Warner Center even though the stores themselves were still closed. I sat on a bench, reading and eating my breakfast. Then I went into Borders to trade in a book I got from two people. I got an amazing book called “Writing the Australian Crawl” and an amazing collection of poems by Wislawa Szymborska. At Best Buy, I discovered that my broken laptop’s warrantee had expired in November. Aaargh!

That afternoon, I couldn’t get a hold of Riza, but I went back to Queens anyway. Just to stay warm, I checked out all the stores in the area and, then went to a local Thai restaurant. I got nervous, so I called Jenny, and she agreed to let me stay with her for the rest of my trip. Finally, Riza called me. She’d been MIA because she dropped her cell phone and it shattered! She had to go buy a new phone, then she had to get my phone number from Laura. On top of it, when she got home, her landlord reamed her for having a guest. (The landlord’s behaviour is illegal, illegal, illegal!) Anyhoo, I headed back to her apartment, thanked her for her hospitality and hit the road.

I had the strange experience of being freezing cold and sweating at the same time as I hauled my three bags from 86^th and Lex to 83^rd between 1^st and York. Halfway there, it got a lot harder when a wheel from my suitcase shredded. Once I made it to Jenny's place, she and I chatted for about an hour, most of which was spent admiring her cats.

The next day, I met up with Tom in Brooklyn. I needed to use his computer. Then we were supposed to go to the museum, but it was SO COLD, so we ended up staying in and watching movies instead. It was so good to see him. He had recently gotten a haircut, so he looked adorable. “When I look at pictures from last summer,” he said, “I’m amazed you never told me to cut my hair! It looked crazy.” Hee. A little bit, but I didn’t care. (See non-crazy last January at left vs. crazier last April at right)

Friday I planned to spend all day going to museums, but I was slow to get around. That afternoon, I ended up at the Museum of Modern Art. It was the free night…big mistake. I had to stand in line in a parking lot forever, then stand in line inside for longer because they forced me to check my backpack. While I was in line, I got a call from Todd informing me that our apartment was broken into. Apparently, the guy broke our back window, ate our ice cream, and took off. Okay…. Well, if you have to get robbed, that’s about the best possible outcome.

Anyway, in the end, I spend an hour and a half in lines to get into the museum. Then I only had a hour to look at art before I had to go. On the plus side, I made it through the second floor and the sixth floor, including the amazing Seurat exhibit. The exhibit focused on his sketches, not the pointillism that made him famous with Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. It was really gorgeous.

Then I met up with Tom for dinner. He got a scrumptious bucket of clams, but I got a desiccated plank of chicken. Seriously, it was like sawdust, so for the first time in my life I sent it back. My reward? A savory, juicy flank steak. Hooray for sending back overcooked food! Hooray for lovely restaurants that want to please their customers. Yay!

The next day I basically chilled out in Jenny’s apartment, reading a book. That night, I met up with Laura, Madrid, Carolina and Riza at Divine Bar. It was indeed fancy (see photo of food at left). I think the girls liked their boxes, especially Laura. Carolina had bought me a pretty necklace, and Laura had made me one. After some great eating, Carolina and Madrid hit the road and Laura, Riza and I hit the club. We spent hours on the dance floor.

Sunday I went shopping, but didn’t find anything I liked except a hostess gift for Jenny. I did, however, find a table at a restaurant I’d always wanted to try, Serendipity 3 (See photo at the very top, left). The food was delicious, especially the hot chocolate. Technically, one is supposed to order the frozen hot chocolate there, and the sundaes are legendary, but I was full and it was cold out! As it was, I gave myself a bit of a tummy ache.

The next day, I met up with Chris. We went for hour-long walk in an Inwood park. It was so pretty. We went back to his apartment to watch Sherlock Holmes and Joan of Arcadia. Madrid got home from work and heated up an amazing pizza. Then I was off to meet up with Tom again. I’m glad I got to spend so much time with him, but it was hard for me, too, because nothing has changed. We’re still not together.

Today I packed up my stuff and splurged on a cab to the airport. Part of me is so sad to leave New York and my friends, but part of me looks forward to getting back to my everyday life in Virginia.

Happy New Year!

On Dec. 30, I landed in Newark at 8:15 p.m., and it took me quite a while to make my way into the city and, subsequently, to Riza’s apartment in Queens. It’s funny, my friends were all, “We miss you, we miss you, when are you coming to New York?” Then when I announced I was coming, they were all, “Yay! Erm…who are you staying with?”

It’s not really their fault. Most of my friends have cramped quarters. Laura and Ryan share a one-bedroom apartment. They both teach in the Bronx, and Ryan is in the Teaching Fellows program getting his degree at night. Madrid and Chris share a one-bedroom apartment, and Chris is rather ill. Well, he’s getting over being rather ill, but he’s not up to a long-term visitor. Plus, it would be super crowded with his home-care nurse there, too. Carolina lives with her parents up in…Northchester? Westchester? I don’t know, one of the Chesters, too far from the city and public transportation. I apparently don’t have Lex’s correct phone number, still. So I started out at Riza’s.

I’ve always liked Riza. We’re just not quite as close as I am with some of my other NYC friends because she entered a rather consuming relationship right after we met, so she and I didn’t get to hang out as much. We were always, "Aw, Riza's not coming? Maybe next time." She has been much more social as late...impressively outgoing and adventurous, in fact. Riza is turning over a new leaf. She is also a consummate hostess. She and her dating-friend Aki (spelling?) met me at the subway station and helped me to haul my luggage to her apartment. He seems like a nice guy. I was tuckered out, and ended up going to bed while they were still watching movies.

The next day, Riza and I went shopping for some supplies. I needed stockings, gloves and an umbrella. Riza wanted to find a specific present to give the girls. She wanted us all to have the hugging salt and pepper shakers we used to play with at Blue Angel (see photo above, left). I had seen them in Union Square, so we went to Filene’s Basement for my supplies, grabbed a yummy lunch at Coffee Shop Bar and then found the shakers. Then we went back to the apartment for a nap, followed by primping.

We met up with Aki, bought some champagne to bring to the party and rushed off to Pangaea to meet Carolina, Ryan and Laura for dinner. There was so much food! I ordered an appetizer (scrumptious shrimp in a lemony wine and white bean sauce), and it was enough to fill me up. Riza is a tiny girl, but she ate a huge meal and ordered dessert, God love her! Thankfully, she gave me a bite or two.

Then it was off to Teke (TK?) and Jay’s party. (Note to self: kneeling and leaning back sideways doesn't make for a flattering photo.) This is my third time at their party, and it’s always great. It’s held in this amazing loft that belongs to their parents. They occupy it when the parents are out of the country…which is often. I’ve met the hosts several times, but I don’t actually know them. They don’t mind. In fact, they told Madrid everyone bearing booze was welcome. We all met up with Madrid, as well as Jenny Levy, Irena and their boyfriends. We all had so much fun talking and laughing.

Eventually, several of us left and ended up at Bull McCabe’s…which is precisely the routine from two New Year’s ago! Huh. Before too long, some up us were all partied out and headed home. Riza, her friend (grr…what was that girl’s name?) and I were shivering because we had worn dresses out into the cold January night, but we strutted down the street pretending to be warm. Soon we were warm in our beds.

The next day, Riza informed me that she wanted to go out in the city. I was exhausted, so I hoped she would change her mind. Aki came over and she made us a huge brunch with fruit salad, blueberry pancakes, strawberry syrup and bacon. YUM! After that, she was tired so we stayed in (Yay!) and watched movies. It was a nice low-key start to 2008.

Staker/Bice Family Christmas!

I got to be Aunt Erin this weekend. Hooray! Brooke hardly remembered me at first, and Courtney didn’t remember me at all. Slowly but surely, I won them over…mostly by reading stories and through shameless use of pets. Taking them to see Scooter, Hooligan or Mac was an express ticket into their good graces. Brooke gets a little nervous around Mac because he’s big and a bit hyper, but Courtney doesn’t mind at all. Courtney is also more enamored with Hooligan.


I’ve got to say, I’m impressed with the cat. He’s not very social, but he put up with the toddlers admirably. At first Court would meow at him loudly, which would make him flinch. I encouraged her to be softer, and pretty soon when Courtney wanted to see the cat, she would come up to me saying, “Shhhh… Shhh.” Heh. (P.S. Someday, she will be so mad at me for taking the photo below, right.)

I was excited to see everyone. Unkie and Helen came, as did their daughters Carla and Karen, her husband Lynn and their kids, Connor and Hannah. I got them sketch pads and oil pastels for Christmas. I like getting them artistic presents. Hannah made me a drawing and they got me a poetry book I really wanted. Unkie and Helen gave me a comfy travel neck pillow, and I gave them the same ornament I made for all my grandparents. I didn’t have money to spend this year, so I hope they liked their crafty, homemade gifts.

Great Uncle Bud and Lorene also came, as did their son Wayne, his wife Alysha, and their kids Alyssa and Alex. All the kids went downstairs to color with the oil pastels. Brooke felt very grown up because I let her use my oil pastels, even though they’re breakable and for grown-ups. She informed her little sister, “You can’t use these crayons until you’re a grown-up. You can’t use them until you’re three.”

Uncle Jay and Aunt Dea were also there. So were my cousin Jenny; her husband, Sam; and their baby, Jack, and my cousin Megan, her husband Josh and their sons, Logan and Landon. It was a full house, but everyone had so much fun. We all talked and laughed. The kids played with Mom and Dad’s musical Christmas decorations. We also chowed down on Mom’s famous soup. This year she made chicken noodle, chili and vegetable beef. She’s such an amazing cook!

After the extended family left, we opened presents with the Staker grandparents and Staker cousins. Our grandparents had us save some small boxes for last. They often do this, because the cousins and I often get matching presents. Well, this year as we opened the boxes, we gasped, and Megan exclaimed, “My jellybean ring!”

As children, Grandma let us pick the rings we would like to inherit someday. Megan loved the opal, which she thought looked like a jelly bean. Jenny liked a ring that was chocked-full of diamonds and I liked one with eight tiny rubies arranged into flowers which Grandpa gave Grandma for their 40^th anniversary.

I had accidentally received the diamond ring, and as such had gasped when I opened it, but Jenny and I instantly realized the mistake and without a word traded boxes, causing the family to laugh. “I couldn’t quite remember whose was whose,” Grandma said. She and Grandpa had decided they wanted to give us the rings while they’re around to see the looks on our faces. It was quite moving, but now I’m terrified. I lost a beloved ring in college (I think it was stolen when I was on stage), and more jewelry in the tornado. Well, I’m going to keep this very special piece safe, I can tell you that much.

Then when the cousins left, we had another session of opening presents with just Grandma, Grandpa, Mom, Dad, J.B., Erika, the girls and me. I had gotten Dad a Yankees mug and a subscription to Hawkeye Nation Magazine. For J.B., I got a subscription to Runner’s World Magazine and a book on running. I got Erika a subscription to Taste of Home magazine and some scrapbooking stuff. Mom had asked for amber jewelry with an insect inside. I went from store to store and couldn’t find it. In the end, I turned to the good old internet. I found her a piece of amber guaranteed to have an insect in it and a pretty amber necklace. I couldn’t find both qualities in one piece, so I got her both. I think she really liked them.

I got so many lovely gifts, including pictures of my nieces, a beautiful bracelet (J.B. and Erika are great at picking out ones that match my style), nostalgic videos (Hello, “Emmet Otter’s Jug Band Christmas.” Long time no see! Oh, how you rule) and amazing books.

It was so much fun to see the girls with their presents. Brooke flipped for some things Mom and Dad got her, especially a Belle doll, complete with a pony which Brooke offered to share with her sister. It is indeed a lucky thing that a pony was included, because Courtney started trying to get at the present. Brooke got nervous that Courtney wanted the doll, but in the end the pony was what Courtney wanted, so the tantrum was averted. Heh.

Soon all the presents were opened and I needed to tear myself away to pack. My nieces wanted to come with, so I let them, but they got bored. They would take me by the hand and pull me away to find the cat or the dogs or read them a story. Courtney wanted me to carry her everywhere. I was torn, because I needed to pack, but I wanted to spend time with the girls. Sometimes I get jealous of their aunt April because she gets to spend so much time with them, so they’ll probably grow up closer to her. Then I remind myself that it’s not a contest. It is about giving support and love freely.

This morning was a bit stressful. We had a yummy breakfast together, but then I was running to finish packing, say all my goodbyes and get my stuff in the car in time to meet with my college pals. We were running late, so the goodbyes were rushed. Dad put some money in my hands as he left me at Jenny’s apartment. Jenny, Jessy, Kelly and I exchanged gifts and jokes while watching The Royal Tennenbaums. I think they liked their boxes. Jessy actually made a sweater for my iPod! Then Jenny took me to the airport, and it was off to NYC. Now I’m in Milwaukee, waiting for my next flight. Tomorrow night, we’ll ring in the New Year. The last one was a year of stress, love, loss and change. I wonder what the new year will bring.