Zora Travels

Egg whites & fondue

Today I'll go from this for breakfast (egg whites & spinach) to multiple fondue courses for dinner.  Ah, to be young, dieting, and eating fondue.  It's a dream world really.  An entire meal built around dipping delectable tidbits into gooey cheese or chocolate.

Oh, I suppose I should say, "and the egg whites are good, too."

**Notice the refreshing glass of Long Beach tap water....later it will transform into a giant goblet of wine.

Shifting Perspectives

What freedom!  I have no real job, no real commitments (besides some craft projects), no meetings, no agenda.  So, what the heck am I complaining about?

Daniel mentioned yesterday that he quit his high-power/high-stress job as a defense engineer precisely because he didn't know what he was without his work.  Many wait their entire lives until retirement to realize that they have not developed interests, layers of themselves that don't involve accolades or admonishments from the work place.

I do feel a little lost lately.  It's been two weeks since I've been officially a day-to-day sub.  No real class or set of students to worry about, fuss over, or plan for.  Just glorified babysitting.  I think work has so often filled any empty space in my life...even through college I worked 2 or 3 jobs, always.  All free time was packed with a labryinth of babysitting, tutoring, or waitressing. 

This is a time for me to figure out who I am without a profession.  How do I define my passions without a classroom to attend or teach? 

I know that it takes nerve for me to complain about the down time in my life right.  Many friends and readers have commented here and via email about the luxury of such time.  How they would go for a run (questionable logic), visit a yoga retreat, or just relish a fancy meal with their lover.  I could do all of those things...as long as yoga "retreat" means taking a class down the street.

Glorious news!  I just received a call from Suzie that I "won" the Curves Fitness Study advertised in the LA Times this past Sunday.  I think anyone who calls actually wins; however, I am still pumped.  I show up this Thursday at 5:45am and for only $30 for 30 days I have to workout with a trainer and be weighed and measured.

I love to get weighed and measured.  They grab big handfuls of my flesh and I uncomfortably look straight ahead.  The white plastic pinchers nuzzle into my gut and my thighs and I know that this is always the start of a re-dedication to fitness.  I wish I could say that I am just naturally prone to being fit and eating healthy.  But 'tis not the case.

The other night I ate jam with my fingers.  No knife. No bread.  Just gooey grapefruit jam with my pointer finger.

Hence, the reason I am so thrilled to have "won" the Curves plan.

In the meantime, I have a luxurious dinner with Europeans tonight (that always means cheese and wine), a dinner of pure fondue tomorrow evening, and a trip up to Santa Barbara wine country on Thursday.  Is it just me or do all of my meals consist of cheese and wine this week?

Thank goodness that Ginny is on her way right now with Tafari (here he is with me at my bridal shower ).  The 3 of us (well, more Ginny and I) are going to power walk and run up and down the beach stairs.  I need this.

I am thankful today for the opportunity to get my sweat on and later work on craft projects.  I am pulling my moping head out of my arse and seeing the beauty of my life.

How bad can it be that I get to walk in the sunshine along the beach, a salty breeze in my face, enjoying conversation with Ginny (my African-dance trip partner), and occasionally cooing at this handsome little boy?

Circles in the Driveway

A few minutes ago, I walked in circles in the driveway.  The sunlight was bright and warmed the cracked concrete beneath my thinly soled slippers.  The orange blossoms perfumed the air....birds chirped high in the neighbor's tree.  My slippers scratched and shuffled around and around.  I just wanted to be outside.  Inside was a sick Daniel and a pot of boiling water.

I faced my biggest decision of the day.  Do I use the boiling water for tea and oatmeal....or microwave some black-eyed peas?

I went with the peas, black like my tea.

Sometimes I am unsure what to do with my day.  I've been a consumed teacher for almost nine years....forever lesson planning, always considering how better to reach (or smack) a student whose getting under my skin.  Cruising the internet for an invigorating way to teach character analysis or college requirements....sitting with stacks of essays or projects on my lap and marking them with a green or red (gasp!) pen.

But this year, I'm a sub.  A sub with no work in sight for the next few weeks.  I'm not a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom) or owner of my own business.  I don't tend a garden.  I can yoga and meditate and easily avoid daytime television...but some days I just want to go out and spend money.  Not that retail therapy is my norm, but it seems there are only so many walks, books, newspapers, blogs, journal-writing and scarf-knitting hours that one can pass.

Here's how I would spend a paycheck this afternoon, were we not saving each of my sub pennies for an ever-expanding wedding.  (If there are any more relatives coming from out of country/state, please tell us now....and "no, we don't mind if you don't bring a date"...they are, after all, random strangers to us.)

1. A 90 minute aroma therapeutic velvet massage from Cynthia at The Loft.

2. One vial of aforementioned aroma therapeutic oil to massage into my temples at night.

3. One pair of hipster shoes from organic cork-board spongecake at Oh My Sole.

4. A gigantic lemon tree from Armstrong Nursery.

5. Two bottles of peppermint shampoo and condition from an Aveda Salon.

6. One facial at the above salon.

7. One housecleaning visit from some brilliant woman who uses organic cleaning products.

8. One carwash (without scent).

9. One large bright orange La Creusset baking dish with lid (for casseroles and lasagna).

10. A fancy camera...one that can take pictures of my hands like this one.

 

Ah, that felt good.  Almost as good as actually buying the stuff. 

But what is on my plate, literally? This afternoon I shall receive crust lessons; for either savory or sweet.  Emmanuelle, one of my culinary heroes, has offered to school me on the essence of crust.  I must simply pack a bag with some Irish butter, whole milk, eggs, and a leek and walk the five blocks down to her picturesque street.  Once inside, gleaming wood floors and a wagging-tailed Taffy will greet me.

And what about all of you (I think there are 8 of you who read this blog)?  How would you spend your day or money if you had loads of time?  I do harbor, by the way, bountiful gratitude for my fortune at having this type of limitless time.

Now, back to my black bowl with a few beans left to scoop, a second cup 'o tea, and the newspaper.

*******

11:55am addendum:  I just read this article.  I am crying.  Daniel's scraping a black bowl for the last of his oatmeal.  He sniffles.  His scraping is annoying.  He wipes his nose and face with the cloth napkin and slurps his water.  I will always remember this quote from the writer:  "We are two, but we are one. And I love those numbers."

We marry in 105 days (yes, The Knot tracks this for me).

House of the Jaguar

The steady whir of a giant mixer drowns out my keystrokes nestled here within the orange-creamsicle walls of Nabolom Bakery..."a worker owned collective since 1976."  My tongue still flirts with remnants of a fat-free, wheat-free, sugar-free blackberry pecan bran muffin.  A yoga-practicing graphic artist unplugs his computer at my feet...and sneezes.  A woman with a Nepalese purse asks for sugar-free bunt cake...there is none. 

Cinnamon fills the air. 

Everyone wears a scarf. 

Everyone could potentially smoke weed. 

Some, I believe, recently have.  Smiles curl freely.  Dogs with spiked collars and teens with bulging-beaded-henna-rope necklaces ask for change.  A young man sits near an orange rind curled across white cardboard that reads "Can I use your cell phone?"

I don't offer him mine.

But these streets, these nooks, these scents haven't changed all that much.  Sure, The Gap, thankfully is gone...but American Apparel now occupies the corner.   Along Telegraph there are still tie-died onesies and tables once coated with anti-Bushness now relish the celebrity of Obama.

It's been ten years since I walked here in a Shakespearean stupor.  I mosied today with free thoughts and more money.  I sipped in the vibrant yellow of daffodils, the majesty of hibiscus, the merriment of tulips, and the splendor of nepenthes.  My feet traverse cracked sidewalks whilst my mind had dalliances with memory.

Why does the baker have an inverted cross tattoo on his arm? 

Does the bearded man ever comb his spiraling silver locks that cascade beneath his chin?

"What does Nabolom Bakery mean? " I asked the tattooed baker.

He paused for moment.  "It's named for a bakery in San Cristobal.  It means House of the Jaguar."

"Oh."

Now I must catch the subway.

Making it to moussaka

"What will you write about on your blog tomorrow?" Haydar asked.

"That you asked me at 10:50pm about what I'd write." I responded.

There.  I said what I'd do and I did what I said.  I feel like Dr. Seuss.  My stomach is cavorting.  The teacher for whom I'm subbing today said, "Good luck.  They eat subs alive."

Nice.  I shall be consumed by 11th graders today.  Hopefully, they are quick and merciful. 

But how bad can watching a movie be?

We'll just have to see.  If I make it to lunch, I'll have a blissful slice of moussaka and the company of my German philosopher friend, Carlos, to enjoy.  There's something savory about a Greek pie, layered with lentils and eggplant, intertwined with a discussion of Schiller that keeps the body satiated.   

The Showers of March

It's a Monday afternoon.  I am fully-caffeinated and just finished uploading and captioning photos on Snapfish for two showers.  A baby shower and a bridal shower.  The baby shower was for Claire.....amazing, radiant, mama-to-be, Claire.  She has such an incredible group of friends....and at the risk of sounding odd ...I want them to adopt me.  She's cobbled together this group of women who whether flying in from New York, spilling stories with an Atlanta drawl, or rattling through a Dr. Seuss book, seem genuine, vibrant, and kind.  This circle of women surrounded her on Saturday, wishing her strength and love as a mother, promising to always support and nurture as friends, receiving henna tattoos and giving books and beads and hugs.  And not to mention the table spread with thousands of calories of cheesy quiches, cheesy grits, salads bursting with boysenberries and pecans, red velvet cupcakes swirled with cream cheese frosting and melons carved into swans (I claim the fowl sculpture). It was simply a lovely day...lavished in Venice Beach fog and ending with wine along Abbot Kinney. 

Parking was a nightmare but it forced a lengthy walk along the Venice Canals.  Who lives in these houses?  I wondered.  I saw a teenage boy sprawled out on an orange sofa in an enormous corner house.  He was reading a book.  I stood there pondering what life is like in a house on the corner of a canal.

And seriously, how does Lien walk in these shoes?  I don't have the guts to even consider these shoes.  Daniel eyes lit up when he saw this picture.  I promise some day I'll get some sexy heels and at least dangle them off my curvy feet before bed.

And the bridal shower...well, that was for me.  Claire, along with the other two bridesmaids, lives far away.  So, she conspired with Courtney and friends and family to hold this shower on the same weekend she was in LA.  Quite a thoughtful maid!  And it was with a butterfly stomach and a cute new dress that we drove down to my Aunt Barbara's seaside bungalow.  It was a day filled with sand storms and lilac roses; wild flower nests stuffed with French chocolate and cranberry-orange muffins; luxurious macaroni and cheese with buttery crumbs and truffles; Barcelona chocolate umbrellas and berry trifle with lemon curd; strong coffee sipped from delicate china cups and mimosas....plenty of mimosas.  And thank God for the alcohol because as much as I crave the focus and attention of students at the front of the classroom...it is quite different sitting at the head of a long table --- taking a funny quiz on Daniel, opening cards with sweet sentiment, receiving a cookbook from Claire filled with pages of recipes, photographs, and advice from all the guests and lovely gifts for both bedroom and kitchen.

I feel truly special...and the wedding feels within reach.  This was the first full-blown "nuptial related" event.  I've gone dress shopping with friends, discussed plans with many, but this day I was 100% bride-to-be.  And to my amazement and jitters...I also saw for the first time my new name all written out upon a card.  The loops of my new identity crawling across the paper.....Do I really have to use "Mrs."?

The women who gathered were from so many phases of my life....ranging from birth, to serving pie at Marie Calender's, to fearing the black boots approaching at 826LA, to dancing off the coast of West Africa, to teaching teenage pirates (lunch ladies shown here).  All women who exude strength, wisdom, and vitality.  It was nice being the center of attention....I suppose on the "Big Day" this will be the case once again.  I'll accept it, relish it, and try and be present in the moment....and hopefully have a few drinks!

And after a long weekend of showers and a counter filled with leopard-print lingerie, Croatian liquor, and an immersion blender....what did I do?  Well, I popped popcorn in our shiny new wok.  I may not yet be gourmet...but nibbling spicy popcorn and watching 1/2 of The Piano was the perfect ending to the weekend.

"Camping"

We're going "camping."  I place the word in quotes because this adventure is just shy of staying in a motel.  We will have a lakeside cabin with a bathtub and a fireplace.  Not sure if it has electricity.

We call it "camping" because it makes us feel adventurous.  We are actually quite boring.  Total homebodies.  On a typical weekend, we intertwine our legs on the couch and pop in the latest Netflix.  The rotation of these red envelopes is a bit of a science.  It's about constant flow....a smooth rotation of films.  Avoiding "Netflix build-up" at all costs.  Sometimes movies that were meant to enlighten sit unwatched...or those with envelope blurbs that now seem ridiculous gather dust...as other rotate through.  Daniel has almost complete control over our upcoming rentals...he tries to indulge me with films like Knocked Up and Osama...but often I fall asleep before they finish.

A few minutes ago he lamented that I was "ignoring him" for the computer.  I replied this is interesting since he's "ignoring me" for his thesis (on a computer). 

Oh, but is this really a fair comparison?

        No.

Then why say it?

    Because I'm sick of his thesis.

---gasp---

 

Yup, I said it.  It's out there. In cyberspace.  I want to go into his office right now and type "wind energy is necessary, amazing, and cost-efficient," and email it to his committee.

And would this help me reach my goal of "more time with me, me, me"?

        No.  Grad. students who have usurped research and angry committees tend to spend less time with deviant fiances who violated their work.

So, what can I do?

        Blog about it.  Get another serving of pasta...perhaps some wine.  Think about moments tomorrow when both of us will be without cell phones and computers...basking in the sunshine by a warm lake fed by hot springs...a faint mineral smell hovers in the air amidst the pine trees.  A little cabin with a bathtub curls into the woods.  And two "campers" will relish a long-awaited vacation.

Unfurling

The television murmurs about shootings, the recession, and cabinet appointments.  A gray sky filters through the shivering wisteria and yellowing leaves of the porch bushes.  It's a Wednesday night.  Two more days at my job and then "the hustle" to find work begins again.  Teaching in a storage room by the laminator for seven weeks has certainly been a challenge...but I recognize with much gratitude that a paycheck is a paycheck.

After a brisk walk around the neighborhood tonight, we stopped at a gigantic fern bush.  The leaves were lush and almost plastic in their perfection of both shape and vibrancy.  From the center of the plant gigantic brown stalks emerged, covered in thick cocoa fur...tightly wound curls that will soon unfurl into luscious fronds.

I feel like these stalks.  Vibrancy surrounds me and lies in my future....but I'm tightly wound, craving sunshine, nourishment, and love (or a vacation).  Thickness of mind and body keep me curled.  Is it just this job?  Is it being a sub in the midst of "the worst economic blah-blah-blah"?

Regardless, one more hour until a dinner at the hands of Emmanuelle unfurls.  Around an aged wooden table we'll drink wine and eat beans out of mismatched ceramic bowls.  The teenage boys will banter about Catholic school, and toga parties; the younger son with a head of curls will ask questions...and all the while we'll mop up bean juice with thick slices of bread.  Taffy will shuffle at our feet...and we'll drink yet another glass of wine...before walking the few blocks back home.

Can I find my way back to yoga, meditation, and the gym after a ten day hiatus?  I need it...frankly, Daniel needs it.  My hunched back and sullen face have overstayed their welcome.  The NyQuil is back in the basket, the cough drops are stored, it's time to unfurl.

Unfurling is easier with wine...don't you think?

***Update*** Just as I posted this, I received an email from Sasha, my yoga instructor.  It contained this poem.  As I read it, I felt lighter in the world....and repeated to myself, "I will find time for yoga again."

The Failure by Kabir

I talk to my inner lover, and I say, why such a rush? We sense that there is some sort of spirit that loves birds and animals and the ants-- perhaps the same one who gave a radiance to you in your mother's womb.

Is it logical now you would be walking around entirely orphaned now?

The truth is you turned away from yourself, and decided to go into the dark alone. Now you are tangled up in others, and have forgotten what you once knew, and that's why everything you do has some weird failure in it.

Circle of Friends

Lately, Daniel and I have spoken often of friends.  I've struggled with the term...both knowing when it belongs to someone and when it has ceased to signify the bond.  I feel friends slipping through my fingertips...their faces, their laughter, their connections fading.  I know that it's not personal; rather it's geography, babies, husbands, careers, and affairs of the heart.  But it doesn't mean it stings any less when the thought of them crosses my mind and there's such distance.  Is this just a natural part of establishing a family, getting married, growing up?  Has my relationship, my wedding planning, my job-hopping exacerbated the issue?  I lost my cell phone two weeks ago and with it all of my contacts.  It struck me this afternoon how many names had disappeared - numbers that I won't make the effort to recapture - relationships that have silently stilled.

I don't have sisters.  I've always wanted one and I've been extremely envious of those who have them.  As a little girl, I imagined a sister with whom I'd spend my summer nights.  We giggled, pinched, and salivated over boys that rode the school bus.  As a teenager, we shared a mutual fear of our father's booming voice, the torture of acne, the discomfort of facing the scale during PE class, and the devastation of divorce. 

My entire life I've watched my mother interact with her two sisters.  A few minutes ago I called her to catch up and they were all there, sitting around the table with my grandma.  She says she'll call me right back but I know that brevity doesn't exist in their world.  What would that be like?  To have a bond since birth and until death, to share parents, and childhoods and adult loves and loss?  I know that I glamorize it...and I'm sure the relationship takes nurturing like any other....but girlfriends just seem to keep floating into the horizon.  Would sisters do that?  Sure, I laugh with my friends, we joke, we chat; and yet, I keep noticing more are slipping out to sea.  A few I beckon back to shore....while others I'm secretly filled with relief that the wind has caught their sails...and even lightly blow in their direction.

Both Daniel and I crave friendships of mind and soul....with people who live nearby.  Is is selfish to wish for friends that aren't "geographically-challenged"?  We both share vibrant connections with people who dot the world map...but tomorrow night, when I have a crispy portion of "un-fried" chicken and an extra glass of wine there will be no takers.  No one with whom kids, schedules, former affections, or drama doesn't impede from stopping over...or being invited.

I watched Daniel recently interact with his college friends Ryan & Heather.  His smile beamed as we walked in.  Hugs were strong, long, and solid.  Through my NyQuil-induced coma, I could hear his voice echoing into the sunlit hours of morning, as him and Ryan shared inside jokes.  It was a voice and laughter that only comes from him in the presence of close friends.  A loose version that I watch melt into the room.  Over pancakes, Heather spoke of her love for "Crazy Dan" and the strength of their friendship.  I relished watching him over this past weekend in Vegas.  These people know him and appreciate his goodness and call him on his sh-t, too.  Their rough and tumble boy, Dominic, also shines as yet another child cast in the net of our beloved children.

At the end of the day, I am fortunate and grateful.  Okay, I don't have sisters...but I have step-sisters and sister-in-laws.  And I don't have friends down the street who stop over, grab a beer from the fridge, and ask "How are you?" ....truly wanting a lengthy response...but I do have a car, a phone, a computer, and access to planes that could take me to the women in my life who really do want to know more about my apprehension over my dad's looming test results, the grad. school confusion, and the center pieces.

**And the inspiration for today's post....this video.