Ashbloemstraat

Everything changes, everything stays the same.

A couple months back, my friend Jenny had the rather wonderful idea to have a girl's weekend at her family's home in Wellfleet, on Cape Cod. Both our friend Kelly and I had just gotten engaged, and it had been a good age since we had all gotten together without husbands/boyfriends/children. Way back before Jenny or Susan got married, or Kelly had moved to New York City, we had gone to the Wellfleet house a few times and generally just drank and laughed and ate well, so we thought this would be as good a time as any to recreate the old times. We tossed Annie and Dab into the mix and had just a lovely, low-key, totally girly weekend. And when I say girly, I mostly mean talking about weddings and marriage, but we also discussed psychics, Britney Spears, and Heath Ledger. Ok, and maybe a little politics and religion (smart women cannot stop being smart women, no matter how much we try to just focus on Us magazine).

I spent the evening at Jenny's home in a near-Boston suburb on Thursday, laughing at her kiddos and otherwise reading her cookbooks and cheese encyclopedia. We ran some errands for the weekend, including a stop in the small town of my alma mater and one of the best cheese shops around (if you go to college around a really good cheese shop, you WILL develop a sophisticated cheese palate, guaranteed - i think I tried a smidgen of everything there over my time in college).  We picked up some Pont L'Eveque and a Chevrot, which in our mind was all we'd need for a Friday night dinner - along with some wine, of course. But we did stop on our way down Friday at Jenny's brother's restaurant, Sintra, and had a couple nice clam and mussel appetizers. And Jenny's brother is a wine expert, and gave me three fantastic wines to try, all of which I have forgotten.

Everyone else came on Saturday, and we watched the sunset and had lobsters and really just thoroughly enjoyed ourselves- beer shots, toasts to each other, leisurely breakfast, and all.

Sunday night I spent back in Boston at Ann & Dab's, an evening replete with wine, cheese, and poker with Miss Carrrrrmen. You would think nothing had changed. Well, it hasn't, really, except I'm in Texas now, so this is the only weekend we've had like this since July in Vermont. Back when I was in Boston this would have been every weekend. And possibly some weeknights.

It was such a nice weekend, but perhaps also just a bit bittersweet, because it really just made us all remember how much we miss each other's company.  And I guess I'm really referring to Jenny, Susan, and Kelly here - Annie, Dab & I are a bit different thus far, as we spent so much recent time together, and now have our 4th of July tradition. (But of course I miss them like a hole in my heart, you know.)

Facing marriage, I am so happy that my friends have found the person that they are building their lives with, and two of them have had (adorable) children - so funny when they look JUST LIKE a friend! - but of course we do not spend as much time together as we did back in 1997 and 1998 or so when Jenny, Susan, Kelly and I just met each other. Well, and, now we live in different places. I take a lot of happiness from the fact that we CAN do it, however, when we put our minds to it, and hopefully this past weekend will inspire us to have a standing tradition of a weekend together each year or every other year. What do you say, ladies?

The wind and snow have swept away all the fears for now.

There is something refreshing about being at the end of the world with some very good friends - well, at least, one end of a continent, staring out to Europe - and I feel more open and clear and certainly more inspired upon my return home.

Got in late last night, and this morning have resolved myself to do a couple niggling errands that have been hanging there, begging to be finished the past couple weeks. I have been very bad with my emails as of late, and I will catch up on those this week. So please, if you have written me anything in the past month, I can only apologize and say replies are forthcoming.

It was fun to sit around with everyone and discuss wedding plans. I have definitely been keeping my mouth shut about it because I do not want to be one of THOSE BRIDES; but still, it is more like the biggest and best party I've ever thrown, so I WANT to talk about it! The outlet was well-needed. I feel some ideas flowing that I'd been damming a bit, and after discussions with Dab about the invitation I sketched out a few ideas I need to scan and send her. Dabney is a crack designer; I love her simple, mod, ever so slightly Japanese-y style, so I'm so excited to see what she will come up with. I'm refusing to allow myself to get TOO caught up in the invites and programs, as I know most people just throw them away (guilty!), but I do want them to reflect what we are going for on that day. And I'm sure we'll frame one or something goofy like that.

Last night I dreamed I was in a crashing plane. That one could not be more obvious, but I'm going to ignore those feelings of anxiety. I'm in too good a mood today.

Off to accomplish some things OFF-LINE. Back with more on Wellfleet and Boston and the lovely people in my life later. Oh yes, and also: my non-adventures in Dallas rail.

Crisp.

Well, I had a few minutes to myself at the computer while Jenny has gone to pick up one of her little boys from school. We've packed up ourselves and some wine and are soon to be off. I just remembered that I had an old photo from 1998 when I was at the Cape once with my dog and Jenny and her family - that's her dad and brother above. So fun. Man, am I thin. And tan. Ah, youth.

I had this crazy dream last night where I was in some rockabilly outfit, walking along the beach, and Davey was somehow uncomfortable with me and did not want to talk to me. I had on a swingy bright red skirt, a wide black belt, and a white cap sleeved lacy shirt. My hair was dark and rolled up; my lipstick bright bright red. I did look very different, so maybe that is why David was uncomfortable. Or maybe I had done something he did not like. Whatever it was, it is lost to the depths of my subconscious.

Today is one of those winter days I miss most about the Northeast - the snow that fell several days ago is still quite plentiful and white upon all the lawns, and the sky is cloudless and blue and bright. I went outside and took a couple photos of Jenny's new house, and the snow on the patio. I'm feeling a slight bit wistful about moving away, since it is a lovely day and I just had a hell of a disagreement with my mother yesterday. I really fucking hate family drama, and my mother seems to dish it out liberally, so Dallas has very little sheen right now.

I'll just conveniently forget about the grey days of trudging to the bus stop here, my nose dangerously close to frostbite. On those days no amount of extra socks make your feet feel warm.

No, I won't think about those days right now. It is much too relaxing and beautiful a day, far away from Dallas.

Maybe I will never be all the things I want to be.

I took the picture above two years ago today, walking around my snowy South End neighborhood. David was en route to Boston, as I recall, and I sent him picture and text messages like this one every day he was on the road to keep his spirits up. But our spirits were up already, way up; my messages were extraneous, unnecessary for spirit-lifting. We'd met and fell in love a mere month before and could not imagine life apart and even today I said to him WE ARE SO LUCKY and he agreed.

But other than the happiness of having him sleeping in the next room from me, and this loving little kitten sitting in my lap, and the obvious fortunes of being healthy and not destitute and having a warm cozy home, I am coasting through some doldrums right now. This period of unemployment is forcing me to do some reflection about what I want my life to look like, and I have to tell you, I am drawing a huge blank here.

I have always considered myself a writer. But other than this blog, and some poetry, I guess I am not. I mean, I do not make a living at it. I have almost always had office jobs which, while I often found them interesting or even fun, never felt like my REAL work. Would I like to make a living writing? I have no idea where to start. And is that really what I want to do? Do I imagine that for myself?

I've been reading this blog off and on for a while called Electrolicious. I first found it after purchasing and loving Offbeat Bride; I just really liked the author and her style and I guess she reminded me of how fun the old rave days were and all that. And while I never doubted my non-traditional inclinations for our wedding, reading her book and the blog just became a really nice affirmation of all that. From there I started keeping up with her Flickr and dipping into the blog from time to time.

I bring this up because she and her husband seem to live a similar life to Davey and I - cute home, loving pet, open and affectionate, etc. - with the main difference that she is DOING WHAT SHE LOVES. And is making a living that way! I am just so intrigued, and fascinated, and - let's be honest now - envious.

For a long time I worked in the travel industry because I loved to travel. It might not have been the most sexy way to make it happen, but travel I did. It was my foremost passion for a long time, and I suppose that now I can say for eleven-odd years of my life I guess I did not so much do a job I loved but the BENEFITS of that job made me very happy indeed. I have been lots of places.

Now, everything feels different. Travel is still a passion, yes, but I am not sure a job wherein I travel all the time is what I want anymore. I want to be with David. I like our evenings in, cooking and reading. I want to sleep with my kitties every night. I suppose I am settling down a bit. But not, I think, in a bad way.

So I am reassessing my professional life. I need something new. I can just get a regular old HR job with a good paycheck and regular hours and spend my free time writing and crafting and doing what I really love to do. But wouldn't it be SO much better if I loved what I was doing professionally as well as personally?

I am at this crossroads, and I know now is the time to make the decision. While we are in Dallas, I have the luxury of minimal expenses and a supportive family and all that. If I am going to try something crazy or different, I should get on with it. We will be here a couple more years but not forever, certainly. I am lucky to have this window; to waste it would be tragically stupid.

Tomorrow I am going to Wellfleet to have some much needed Boston Friends Time. We are going to eat seafood and drink wine and I will probably ponder the nature of happiness in work and marriage and ask them lots of questions. We will listen to the sound of the wind on the beach and I will love it because there is something special about Cape Cod in the winter. I need to go pack. I will be back on Monday night, with photos and (hopefully) more insight.

Omnivore's dilemma.

Recently I have lost my appetite for almost everything. Not that I don't get hungry - but geez, considering I would like to look good in this wedding dress that would be nice for a while - but nothing sounds good to me. In the past week I have pretty much just eaten a bucket of organic greens, bagels, french brie on plain crackers, bits of Italian prosciutto, and blood oranges.  Which is a rather nice if repetitive diet, though I've taken little joy in any of it.

I just finished The Omnivore's Dilemma, which has taken me a while to finish since I was distracted by the fiction I read over the holidays. Also, as interesting as I found the book, there was a certain element of feeling at saturation point on this topic - I've read Fast Food Nation, know all about King Corn, seen Supersize Me, and read a mountain of internet resources on how mass-produced food in America is questionably subsidized, terribly managed, awful for the environment, and dangerous to the point of possibly deadly to consume. And I'm talking meat, vegetable, and fruit. Organic or no. Basically, I am fully aware of and cannot argue with the fact that our entire food system is broken.

Moving to Europe changed my outlook on food. I was never much of a junk food person anyway, but I certainly never thought twice about eating it, or where it possibly came from, or even what it was actually MADE of. But once you live in a place where people are MINDFUL of what they put in their mouths it is near impossible not to become that way yourself. Food safety standards are generally more stringent than in the U.S., and there is emphasis on local foods and customs. Meats and produce have to state clearly where they come from. Genetically modified products have to be stated as such.

In no way do I want to suggest there are not problems with the E.U. food industry. There certainly would have been no BSE or chicken flu there if there were not. But the way people THINK about their food is very different. And so I started to as well.

Once back in the U.S., I made an effort to be more aware of what I buy, and to allow a larger percentage of my income to go to good foods. I mean, I'm not a clothes/things purchaser anyway - my salary does not go to handbags and electronics (I'm the girl, after all, who has never owned her own computer) - so it makes sense for me to spend on food. I joined a farm co-op, so all my produce was local. I cut out high fructose corn syrup almost entirely (getting corn products out of your diet entirely is almost impossible - how do those with an allergy DO it?). I've tried vegan. I'm exploring Slow Food Dallas.

It has become a near obsession - WHAT IS THE RIGHT THING TO PUT IN MY MOUTH?

I begin to despair that there are almost no Right Things. I can eat local produce, but there is nothing to say their farming methods are good for the environment (or that they treat their workers fairly) until I go there and check it out myself. I can buy organic at Whole Foods, but industrial organic is only somewhat better than just regular industrial production. I can choose European products, but the high environmental toll of import offsets the possible higher quality of ingredient.

And then there is the ever present question of how to understand, relate to, and possibly consume the animal products in my life.

At this stage, I am pretty much a practicing vegetarian. Oh, not entirely. There is the bit of prosciutto I bought this week to calm my meat craving, after all. But on the whole, I have not felt good about the meat in my life. I do not touch chicken anymore; for some reason that industry bothers me out more than the others - and there is really no good reason I should be more grossed out by how chickens are treated over cows, but that's just how it is. I am sure it helps that I LIKE beef more than chicken, of course.

How to come to terms with the LIKE for meat over moral objections to how it is produced? It is a disgusting food chain, right down to the very feed the cows/pigs/chicken eat. We'd like to imagine happy, grass-fed animals, but sadly they are force-fed corn - a product their systems are not even meant to digest. They live sad, miserable, painful lives. Pigs, who are as smart as dogs, have their little tails docked and live stressful cramped lives. But everyone knows this by now. Surely. So stop buying the mass-produced meat at the supermarket cooler. Just stop.

What to do when you want to eat meat or poultry anyway? Personally, I think Jamie Oliver and Michael Pollan are right - you have to confront how these animals live AND die, and decide if you are at peace with that - and stop expecting it in every meal. Some (like my lovely friend Lillet) are not comfortable with animals dying for our own luxuries no matter what. And that is fine. In fact, I find it really admirable. But for me, I am not convinced I go that far. Theoretically, if an animal lives a happy life and is killed humanely, I think I would feel ok about the odd cut of meat here and there. I DO think animals eating animals (of which we are one) is a natural process. We have the capability over other animals to make their death less traumatic than in nature, though. Shouldn't we exercise that capability?

I encourage everyone to watch "Jamie's Fowl Dinner" on Youtube. I'm off chicken anyway, but it is incredibly powerful and just convinced me further that I have made the right choice about chicken. I do warn you that it is upsetting; I cried in the first installment. Here is an article and one of the YouTube snippets. Here you can find the entire thing (this link is to part 1; you can see the other links to the right).

I guess until I see how my meat lives and dies, I do not know if I can eat it. So my new goal is to find a local farm and see if they will let me watch. I've already scoped one out; I just have to figure out how to approach it. And if they say no - well, I'll figure that out when the time comes.

This is turning out to be a long process for me, but I am glad I am going through it. I wish I had the conviction to make a decision on this immediately across the board, but I simply remain way too conflicted.

And I think it is about time I start reading books on another topic for a change. 

Friendly neighborhood sex toy shop.

Last night David and I found ourselves a little feisty and decided to go buy a new toy. And when I say toy, I do not mean another guitar for the Playstation.

I'm pretty spoiled after living in Boston and having Grand Opening at my disposal - Grand Opening being extremely woman-friendly (friendly to everyone, really) and more toy-centered than anything else (by "anything else" I really mean porn-centered, which is what a lot of the shops in Amsterdam were like - Grand Opening has porn, but it isn't the core of their business). So I was sort of disappointed the first time we went to New Fine Arts - while it was clean and well-lit, it was really mostly porn, and though there was a large array of toys, there were none sitting out to turn on and touch. We bought something small and when we got home it DID NOT WORK. Needless to say, that was irritating and did not endear me to the place. Sadly, there just aren't many places here to choose from when purchasing these sorts of wares.

(So as you know, the reason there are not "sex toy boutiques" in Dallas is because it is illegal to promote the use of sex toys for sex in Texas. That is to say, you can have a big adult film center (like New Fine Arts), and have vibrators and such in boxes along the wall, but the staff cannot educate consumers about how to use them and what they are for. EVERY toy has a sticker on it that states "This item is sold as a novelty item/marital aid only". The small, Grand-Opening type store wherein you can talk to the salesgirl about what anal bead size she finds most arousing is impossible to have here, because the salespeople would get arrested. Also, you cannot own more than five dildos or vibrators according to Texas law. Consider this your Texas sex law lesson for the week.)

But when we went to New Fine Arts last night, I liked it a lot better. There was some very good people watching. We perused some promising porn. When we took our selection to the counter, a kindly old man with grey hair and a wrinkled black face smiled at us while we checked out. He took our little toy out of the box, put the batteries in it and turned it on.

Him: (handing it to me) Think that will be ok?

Me: I think that will do quite nicely, thank you. And THANK YOU for testing this. Last time I got something here I got home and it didn't work!

Him: Woooo wheee! That mustve been frustrating!

Me: I'll say.

Him: (wrapping it back up) You might need a cigarette after playing with this one.

/we all laugh

Him: (pointing to David) Now you can laugh, but you are going to have to do most of the work, son.

David: Yes sir!

Him: Have fun!

David/me: Ok bye!

/waving goodbye to each other

Awww. I felt like I was at the local mom-and-pop sex shop. How sweet.

Last few days.

One important lesson I have learned the past weekend is that if you give my sister and David a karaoke microphone they won't let anyone else play.

The past weekend we had Leo in town from Amsterdam, so we made merry for a couple of days, including a really nice party at! our! house! First party that we have had here, and it felt good. Now I'm planning dinner parties, wig parties, poker parties, hookers and blow parties, etc. The usual. Anyway, I was happy the people who could come by did, since it was a relatively last minute thing.

And since I am making little headway thus far on the job front, I've decided to use this time to ramp up wedding preparations. I got my dress and shoes yesterday; today I started updating our website. I've finalized one hotel block booking and am working on another one too. Also the guest list is pretty much done; we just have to finish getting addresses. So I think by the end of January quite a lot of things should be under control.

I don't know if we are crazy (which we probably are), but we are really leaning towards doing all the food ourselves. I am imagining a couple huge spring salads, a massive cheese and veggie spread, a homemade brisket, some warm dips (like queso and such), spring rolls, etc. So lots of stuff to make everyone happy, but nothing too involved to make. We have lots of lovely men and women in our wedding party who I am SURE would love to help chop and prepare the day before, after all!

Now I just have to kick my own ass to finish these table runners and my bouquet. And rent tables and shit - we aren't making those by hand. I don't think.

Precipitevolissimevolmente.

In the past five days or so, David has worked every day and I have ramped up my activity level. I've cleaned the house top to bottom in anticipation of a.) a weekend visitor; and b.) having some people over Saturday night. It will be the first time we have multiple people coming over in a single evening. Big stuff. The house is not really ready for prime time so I have been running about like a lunatic trying to get it ready. I've been moving very fast;
i've managed to get a LOT done in the past few days. I haven't even picked up the camera this week!

But at least I have been busy. Feeling discouraged on the job front, though I am the first to admit I haven't been applying myself. That's next week's focus, now that the house is nice and tidy (we'll see how that lasts after all the guests this weekend).

Ok, have to run. Picking up Davey from work. Jesus, I don't know how parents do all this laundry and cleaning and cooking and picking kids up, all the while often working. Bless you all.

The Medicated Child.

Did anyone else see the Frontline on diagnosing children with bi-polar disorder this evening? I seriously had chills watching this show. Obviously I am neither a parent nor a MD so I am completely subjective, but this shit really makes me frightened for a whole generation of children.

How as a society can we allow doctors to prescribe up to eight narcotics to children under 10 for a diagnosis of which the validity is in deep doubt? What the fuck does the FDA DO? Oh right - they're busy making sure there are all kinds of nasty additives allowed in our foods.

At the risk of sounding like an uber-hippy here, I've made it clear in the past I strongly believe the modern change in diet is responsible for a lot of this, and I often think this idea is widely ignored. Even in this show, one of the children diagnosed with bi-polar - who is about five - is shown being fed two corn dogs, drinking a 16 oz of blue gatorade, and talking with his mother about how he then wants some cookies and goldfish. Seriously. I really feel uncomfortable criticizing parents about anything except for what the FUCK some of them choose to feed their children. Why should I be surprised a parent would agree to 4-8 medications when they feel perfectly happy to feed their kids that shit? BLUE GATORADE? I wouldn't touch that crap with a 20 foot pole, and you better believe my kids won't even know what it IS until they are teenagers.

Maybe ADHD is valid, but how much would be alleviated by feeding these kids some whole, organic foods? And what if moms ate better before and during pregnancy? How about government making it easier for this to happen? Why the FUCK can't people get riled up about this?

There are other problems with our society that contribute to all of this, of course. I do not mean to make it sound like a simple change in diet would solve everything. But shit. I've seen it on tour - there is a whole generation of over-sugared, over-caffeinated, and over-stimulated kids out there. And now over-medicated.

I'm starting to sounds really holier-than-thou here, but mostly I'm just ranting because I am so alarmed and irate and upset about this. I certainly don't want to suggest there are not psychological disorders that exist in children. But this seems a little out of control.

I think maybe I just turned into an old lady during the course of typing this.

Wedding dress.

So today I decided to just go and poke around at some dresses and I am pretty sure I found the perfect dress.

Trying on the big, long, formal ones was really weird. They felt so strange. I did find one long formal one that was beautiful and flattering, but I don't know. It feels like it would be weird at a garden wedding. But it is in the evening. But it doesn't really feel like ME either.

I also tried on a simple Greek-goddess style flowing dress with a halter top. It was lovely, but it was like HEY! LOOK AT MY HUGE KNOCKERS! I decided as pretty as it was, it probably is not the look I will be going for at my wedding. You know. The Titty City look.

Does one ask their groom-to-be about these things, or does that spoil the fun for him? I'm torn.