Genius: "Oh this old thing, I've had it forever" no you lying snake! it's new. Everyone who has ever said that is lying (me included), and everyone who has ever heard that knows you are lying! So I have come up with a plan....a genius plan....get a storage shed and charge people a minimal fee to keep their stuff in the shed until their stuff becomes "old". For some this may be a week others a month or a year then, at the end of their allotted time they can take their stuff home and voila...no more lying! Their stuff is now "old".

Paul: hate the name...I think of it being sandwiched between Peter and Mary. I think of it wearing a stripped knit shirt with mustard colored pants and black framed glasses while playing baseball with the kids from The Sandlot. I think of it winning a science fair because it made a rocket out of old railroad ties it lathed in an abandoned warehouse, the year is 1968. You get my thought process??? Well I now think of all that and this when I hear that name...

(801 Pennsylvania Ave Washington, DC)

1. pain aux raisins: [B] good texture, overall great flavor, a bit too much apricot gel on the top but it sure did make that sucker glisten, and I would have like a bit more cream.

2. almond croissant: [A-] it was just as they usually are in France, flat and flavorful. This usually bugs Americans because we want almondy and puffy flakey and that just doesn't happen because an almond croissant it baked then sliced, filled, dipped, and baked again..how can it remain puffy flakey after all that? It can't! That is why in it's perfect way it is flat flakey. There wasn't a disc of marzapan in the center like we are used to, instead it was a true almond cream. voila et merci Paul.

3. canele:[A] this little guy resembles a mini bundt cake and leaves many questioning its purpose on a pastry shelf, "what is that" and the answer is, bliss. Caramelized outside with a baked custard inside that is dense and unparalleled in texture and taste. I will order this every time because so far Paul makes it the best this side of Bordeaux.

Baths: the thought of having to sit in my own dead skin cells until hot water turns tepid in a tub that is too short, is simply vile. I shower regularly but rarely bathe for these reasons. Today however, was a "rarely" sort of day. The B&B had a tub that was long enough and so in the spirit of Labor Day, I had to give it a try.

White-Trash if this term disturbs or offends you, it is probably because it hits too close to home! For me it is life lately. Being a Nomad finds me more often then I would like ! but back to the matter at hand, within all of us is a little white trash. It may be a dumpster with built in compactor or a little pail, but each of us have some quantity of it within our lives. Here are a few of the evidences of it in mine:

1.

yes, in my car door I keep my Guerlain perfume and in those little bags to the left:earrings, and rings.

2.

yes, in my bag I keep my make-up and my deodorant NOT so I can re-apply like a normal girl, but because while

rushing out the door I usually forget one or both and don't realize it until about noon when I think, "why the schmutz am I sweating so bad" or I glance in the mirror and, "are you freakin' kidding me I only drew on one eyebrow today! crap" then I fix what I forgot.

3.

yes, in the back seat of my car there are currently about 6 outfits crammed into a Trader Joe's bag it is acting as my closet. Tidy, no?

You are welcome.

Fall I love fall! I love the sweaters, the scarves, the coats oh the coats! And then the traditional reasons...the crisp smell and sound of leaves in the air, butternut squash risotto, blah blah, blah blah. However my confession for this fall is that I am excited for something straying from my usual list.... I am excited for this -the secret I have always wanted to be a flight attendant, so sophisticated but with a little glimmer of risque -

hab·it/ˈhabit/

n. A recurrent, often unconscious pattern of behavior that is acquired through frequent repetition.

Yes it is true, I have a habit. One could almost go as far as to say bad? Not sure. but here it is....while food shopping one -meaning me/I- often becomes hungry. Why would one/I go through the whole store hungry when one/I is surrounded by food? So here is the "habit", I eat while I food shop. I will for instance, get a bag of carrots and while I shop I will eat them. (I should note I put that in there to sound healthy, lets get real when I shop I pound an entire package of Little Debbie Fancy Cakes not carrots). There is not a specific food, there is no rhyme or reason. I eat while I shop and I always pay for the food I have eaten which usually turns out to be an empty box/bag. I don't try to hide it either. Those accompanying me are often embarrassed and/or at times angered by this seemingly rash behavior!

Today I was at Costco and I grabbed and paid for a salad from the little Costco cafe up front. I ate my salad while I shopped. It was great. And during my balance-the-salad-in-the-front-baby-seat-part-of-the-cart-while-pushing-and-eating-without-spilling escapade I had brief "breaks" that included: lentils, crab dip, protein bar, mango salsa, frozen cream puff,zip fizz, apple turn over, David's Cookies pie, and ravioli all on a Tuesday. Costco, bless you! Not only can I buy food to eat before I even start shopping but you actually condone the idea of eating while shopping. At Safeway, Giant, Trader Joe's, and Shoppers (which scares me a little), people stare at me like I'm crazy cause I'm eating in a food store, but not chez Costco, here I am family.

Overly Personal: if you don't like person info and you just want surface "this is what I like, this is what I eat, this is what I want" then just check back in a few days when I have one of those....that is not today !

Have you ever cried* so hard you induced vomiting? Not saying I did ;) but if you did on George Washington Memorial Parkway in DC and you had to frantically find a small space to pull of on so you didn't ralph in your car and everyone was honking and slowing to watch you ralph....this may be your cure. B vitamins to combat the stress that sucked you dry and made you a disaster in the first place, and then chocolatey caramel stuff-reminder you don't even like chocolate- because it was just above the B Vitamins at CVS. Take lots and tomorrow will be better, or so I am hoping.

*it needs be noted that this is not a normal thing, I don't cry certainly not like that! and I don't normally binge on drug store candy but every "normal" has an exception.

Dear Irene,

let's get one thing straight, while you have a female name..you are NOT a nurturer. You were gentle but not very kind. You killed at least 10, left millions without power, dropped a tree on my friend's car, and knocked down my other friend's beach house! But that aside, your bark was worse then your bite and for that I am grateful. Well for that and the fact that they cancelled church preemtively because of you so it is 2:19p on Sunday and I am still in my pajamas eating Reese's Puffs cereal on my bed.

Sincerely,

Monica Kate

in preparation

for hurricane Irene....

I had a well balanced breakfast

Lust, pure lust. I had a few hours with nothing to do and no where to be so I did something I have never done before tried on $20,000 in shoes in one day. I went to the Salon Shoes section in Nordstrom, it was a sinful experience. I hear women say, "oh I hate pointy shoes, oh those heels are too high, designer brands are worthless because you just pay for the name, I would never wear a shoe like that" well ladies you are lying! Unless you have tried them on all alone without a husband or a naggy friend on a day you felt good about yourself and can honestly say to yourself that you don't like $1,995+ shoes, you are lying. (and probably should repent) Yes the price might be *nuts* but set that aside and consider the wonder in designer shoes...(if you can't at least consider the wonder...consider an ovary transplant because yours are broken!) These do things to you that Payless can't even fathom. And on a side note they come with their own little shoe bags! Here are a few favorites that I slipped into Saturday...

Paten Leather Perfection ala Dior

-I would make these my "lunch at a Paris bistro" shoes-

Yes Jimmy Choo I choo choo choose you

-I would make these my "I need to feel hip and hardcore even though I am not" shoes-

Alexander McQueen enough said

-I would make these my, " white after labor day is F-I-N-E" shoes-

Cinderella would have gone back for this Valentino

-I would make these my "oh these old things" shoes-

*none of the above mentioned shoes found place in my home, due not to a lack of want but to a lack of ones, thousands of them to be specific.

out·growthNoun/ˈoutˌgrōTH/

1. Something that grows out of something else.

2. A natural development or result of something.

Thank you dictionary. Outgrowth...outgrowing is something usually reserved for conversations about children or homes: she outgrew her toddler bed, he outgrew his training wheels, we outgrew this space the moment we moved all our stuff in, you get the idea. It is not a new concept, as the dictionary describes it is simply something growing out of something else: a home, a bed, juvenile habits. What the dictionary lacks however is explaining that outgrowth is painful.

As a child I vividly remember these red patent t-strap shoes. I was 2 maybe 3 and when I outgrew them I would wake up everyday and try to squeeze my feet into them, everyday got worse. I was sad.

I got a dress from Broadbent's in Lehi when I was 8, it was a teal floral number with perfect little tulip sleeves. It was the first dress I remember getting for no reason. It was not easter, there wasn't a sale, I had just gone in with my mother and she let me have it all $23 of it. I wore it to my piano recital the day I broke my arm -for the second of five times-. I was in secret tears the day I slipped it on and not only was it above my knees by I couldn't zip it. It was the prettiest thing I'd owned in my 8 little years of life and outgrowing it was so hard.

Time passes of course and the things we outgrow get more serious and at times more difficult to handle. Remaining is what is easy and safe, outgrowing is frightening and new. I outgrew my ugly stage (i hope), I outgrew cheating at monopoly, I outgrew a boyfriend or two, a fiance or two. As a baby chick grows eventually it will have to push through it's egg's shell. Once out, the chick will be so happy, so fluffy. However for those few minutes that chick is pushing out of it's shell I am sure it is not happy. It is work and it is hard and it sometimes doesn't really seem all that worth the struggle. That is me today...realizing my "shell" is no longer sufficient for me, and pushing through seems hard and I think I might be bit scared because I don't know what the world will look like on the other side.

Seduction....

Don't freak out! I haven't gone of the deep end, I am not going to tell you what you think!

From time to time I hear people say, "I hate America(ns) for : x,y,z" reasons. I do not. I have lived abroad a few times and while I love things about Europe and the U.K. and many other places, I love America. However, there are a few nice little adjustments that could stand to be made. Seduction, -in reference to food! hold on to your jaw!- is one of those. Let me explain. Last month I was in Utah and along with my trusty chef companion Leland, I set out in search of new culinary delights. Communal was the most referred spot to our snobby duo, so off we did trot for brunch. Biscuits and gravy, eggs benedict, and a chorizo/egg pot.

Biscuits: C+ beautiful, great size, great flaky texture, then you realize those suckers are pure crisco, no buttery notes! not so lovely at all. The after taste of baking soda slapped me so hard I swear I saw the arm and hammer.

Gravy: A- the sausage was divine, the pepper didn't over power the simple herb choice. The only reason it is not a + is because they committed the common gravy sin of over salting, if the sausage is already salted be careful how much salt you put in the gravy.

Eggs Benedict: B- cook the whites all the way please! Even though I realize they will not make me sick, even though I know they carry all the anti-microbials needed to protect the yolk from getting attacked, they still make me dry-heave when they are all gelatinousy/mucousy in my mouth. And gagging at brunch is such a faux-pas! And watch the lemon juice in the hollandaise. I prefer a light lemon kiss at the end, something that is so subtle it almost leaves me questioning its' very existence. I was once again slapped by an ingredient that should have wooed me.

Chorizo/egg pot: B flavor of the chorizo was superb! A+ for you. but the rest left me wanting. The concept was good but not carried out as successfully as it could have been. The flavor was sadly reminiscent of canned tomato sauce and the egg drop soup appearance of the egg was a little uncomfortable for my eyes. The charred crouton was genius and lent a spot on touch. Not enough to compensate for the rest of the dish.

And here is where seduction comes into play. In America we are a bit rushed, we are new, trying to "find" ourselves amid cultures that have been around for thousands of years. We try our hand everything and have made some truly remarkable successions. Food is not our strong point. When you look at food in its carnal form: on a vine, in the dirt, high in a tree, it is seductive. The color, the shape, the feel, the smell alone! what wonderful stuff. Some are easy to acquire, others not so much; they must be finessed (work with me here I mean pealed/shucked you get it now?). So miraculous and then we go and throw it on a plate and all of its' carnal beauty is lost. It is consumed so fast it is hardly a fleeting memory. "What did you have for breakfast" is so often followed by, "I don't know." You don't know because you weren't seduced! You used food as a means to an end versus a means to imagination. You added so much salt or pepper or whatever you add to "fix" things, you completely changed the identity. Other cultures use initial flavor as the central focal point and add just enough to peak your interest. I suppose it is like a woman (yes I went there), alone she is beautiful but add a hint of pink to her cheeks, a touch of red to her lips, and a bit of DiorShow mascara :) and some divine smell and she is remarkable, the same, but slightly more je ne sais quoi...

That is how I love my food. No mystery at the beginning but as time goes on I am intrigued and I question what exactly enhanced my dish so perfectly without changing the integral flavor structure that God provided. I love to have notes of citrus or rosemary, cardamon, or anise softly whisper as they grace my palate. I HATE being slapped by flavor. I love to be in question of what made something so simple, jump. I love to have my pupils dilate when a bite hits my tongue. I love leaving wanting more yet knowing what little I had was just enough.

As a "new" presence on this earth we want to be seen as strong, brave, bold. Those choices are ever evident in our food. Meat and potatoes, Manwhich, rare t-bones on the grill. We eat on the fly consuming our food from parchment sheets while listening to the daily news at 65 miles per hour. We do not have time to be seduced, we have places to be, people to see, things to conquer. I have only one quip today about America, I am tired of not being seduced!! One bite vs. 1 lb, plain vs. blackened, hint vs. slap in the face, simplistic beauty vs. halloween costume disguised food.

and if you are in Utah try Communal, I hear it has better days. and A few of my oldy but goody favorites are: Tuile Bakery in SLC, Bombay House in Provo,

Whoops 2

never before has this happened to me...never before until tonight when I stopped by my friend Wendy's place and went to turn around and cracked my head on the light. Wendy so kindly stepped in to show that she has never before had this problem either, I just don't think it is in the cards for her.

Whoops

Yes these are my lips...and now for the whoops....

while at the post office mailing a package, I ran into the problem I run into every time: tape no scissors. So I did the same thing I always do, used my teeth as scissors (sorry mom), only this time some of the tape stuck to my lip. I yanked it off. Whoops. Blood in the post office, self inflicted, not cool.

Beach Wedding? Really

So Saturday morning came around 5:45am and I thought, "yes stay in bed all day, you have no commitments. you can go to the market, read a book, shave your legs, organize your hard drive" and next thing I knew I was shuffling about for a swim suit, sunscreen, yoga pants, and shades. I jumped in the shower, shaved my legs (1 thing off my original list), cut up mangos, smelly French cheese, and celery-because that was all that was in my fridge- and before I knew it I was on the road. Lewes, DE my favorite non-exotic exotic location. Quick stop at Food Lion for some water and a People magazine and I was there, at the end of the 404 right by the Dairy Queen on the beach by 8:30.

8:30 is a titch early but I wanted to beat Bay Bridge traffic, mission accomplished. I set up for the day and half way into Jaycee Dugard's hauting People article this happened....

Beach wedding. Charming? Well.....Lewes, DE is as mentioned before not exotic. It is the first city in the first state but the sand is rough, the water is murky, the Ferry is constantly honking upon its arrival or departure, and if you get married here you might have the lifeguards doing their morning bikini clad run right behind the priest during your ceremony. But thank you for choosing this destination, it made my Saturday morning more eventful than planned. I was 15 feet away observing from my towel.

New Leaf

I don't feel "sage" as they say in French, 28 years old yet I feel eternally 17. I am thinking my mantra for life should be, "I've fallen and I can't get up" . I seem to find myself in complicated situations often receiving hard cancel as my only resolution. I am not offended or saddened by this, I welcome a challenge and realize I am hard nut to crack. Many I know love to feel grounded, they find safety and solace in knowing there roots are deep in the earth holding them steady. I am not this way...I am more like those air plants you see in tourist shops that they make into fridge magnets, you know these guys (more scientifically known as the genus Tillandsias with about 540 species belonging to the bromeliad family)....

yep that's me on the right, sticking out a bit and no roots. I find I am happiest in chaos when the world is spinning around me and there are millions of things to do. Don't make me out to be a total disaster, I love peace and calm just like the next guy but there is so much wonder in this world I find it hard at times to "sit still". My dreams surpass my abilities however, I have yet to quench the desire to continue on this path of complexity and chaos.

Expectations

My entire life I have heard to never compare myself to others.....ya right, can't help it. The past few weeks have left me a bit numb(?) as I have selfishly spent too much time looking at how old I am and wondering: is this what I wanted to do? didn't I want kids by this time? didn't I want a PhD? didn't I want to have a few more stamps in the passport? didn't I want to have completed 2 triathlons and be able to speak 5 languages? and then I found this......

we must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us

{joseph campbell}

and I felt a little better. I am not sure how "willing" I am (ask anyone and they may say I am more stubborn or headstrong) however, I have created a little niche and while it has evolved from my juvenile life plan, it suits me just fine.

Love vs. Convenience

Love and a love for convenience are mistaken and the later sometimes leads to a marriage, rarely do they last. Being a wife in love is great. You always have a date on Friday night, you never wake up alone, you have someone to come to, you have someone to share in your memories, you have someone on your side who will defend you and protect you, you have a hero. Being a wife in love is great. Being a wife in love with convenience appears great but fades. You always have a male in the house on Fridays but that doesn't mean you will date, you have a body next to you when you wake but that doesn't mean you aren't alone. You have someone to share your memories but do they really care? You have someone at your side, but is he ON your side. Will he defend, will he protect, will he be a hero or is he simply your love for convenience? Was it a decision you made because you thought there was no one else who would love you? Because you were tired of being alone? Because all your friends were married with babies on the way and all you had was a dog/cat/houseplant? It is nice to have health insurance and car insurance, and a little place to call your own, it is nice to have a joint checking account, a vacation planned, and a ring on the once lonely left hand finger. It is nice to have pictures of a wedding and coasters that have your new last name's initial on them, it is nice to have men's shirts hanging next to your dresses in the closet and a lingering smell of his cologne long after he's left for work. It is nice to unpack a Christmas ornament that in Times Roman states "Our 1st Christmas" with some date, it is nice to have 2 toothbrushes in the holder, and your side of the bed. It is nice to be 2, a couple, us, we. But is it love or love of convenience? When lights go out and work is done, when he is lying next to you fast asleep what runs through your mind? Is having him there making you a better you? Is being "us" still allowing you to be "you"?

The smile...

As a waitress I always heard, "you smile so much", when I worked at the bank i heard, "you know no one can see you here in customer service, you don't have to smile" at school, on planes, in the grocery store. I never understood why it was so foreign people, it is only a smile. I didn't realize it was something that most people don't do. I never noticed the overall emotion of the world I was living in. Then today on my way to work I looked in the rear view and caught a glimpse, there are no wrinkles on my face. No crows feet by my eyes, no lines to the sides of my mouth. I can't remember the last time I really smiled. I wish I had those wrinkles. I have let the world get to me. I have given up on fairy-tale and sacrificed a part of my joy and replaced it with the day to day worries resulting in an expressionless face. I should have been a princess because then I could hide away in the summer house until I had something to wrinkle about.

Temporarily Disconnected

From time to time you call someone and the number is...temporarily disconnected. The power may be out, the bill wasn't paid, cell tower's down, they changed their number, whatever the reason you know that person can't be reached so you wait a few hours, a few days, sometimes a week, and then you call back. But, for that hour, or day, or week that person was in a way disconnected. At times I wish I could be temporarily disconnected. I would love to shut down, turn off, and not have to explain my reasons for doing so. Awkwardly in the silence of some days I wonder how it would be not to not have to love. The friends who "need" you, the family, the partner, life. I crave to have the option to truly shut off. I tried and then I had to feed the dog, pay my student loan so I didn't get a late penalty, the distant friend called I answered because it had been months she talked I listened she complained then hung up, I caught a glimpse of my tired face and realized my plan had failed, miserably! Does one ever get time to fully recharge? or do we just spend this time running on half a tank knowing full well that even when the gas light does go on, we have 50 miles before complete shut down; we often go 49.75 then crawl to the nearest station, rummage for change and get what we can. If I were a princess I could shut off. I could tell my servants to tell the court I was unavailable and they wouldn't question. I could steal away to a place where no one knew me, no one could find me, and where expectations were simply to sit and stay hydrated. I am NOT a princess, I love too much, too many, demand too little, and while being needed is a wonderful feeling, it can also pull all feeling from you.