3 countries I’d like to visit and why

Tags

December 2010, first post, postaday2011, postaday2012, writing

I am re-posting my very first post, December 31st 2010, on WordPress because this is the second anniversary of my blog and I thought that you would be interested to see how I started my blog. It was through the use of the Daily Prompt which inspired my answer; answering a simple question is a great way to get the writing flowing.

I had stumbled onto WordPress by sheer accident. I was reading something on the internet and I clicked on a link which got me to Black Water Dog’s blog and that got me to another blog written by Kolembo who is a brilliant poet and I said to myself “why not do this for myself?” So that is how I got here.

I know the 3 countries I’d like to visit and why, I just can’t give either of the 3 any priority due to the fact these would be imagined experiences based on photos, articles and preconceived notions.
The first country that comes to mind is Thailand. What first drew me to Thailand as a destination is the cuisine. When I was 13, My parent’s friend Elizabeth introduced us to the Thai restaurant called Jaiya located at 81st Street and Broadway in Elmhurst, Queens, New York. Elizabeth commandeered the menus and ordered for the table. I remember having beef satay with a peanut sauce that was unlike any experience that I had encountered with plain old peanut butter. The slight spicy bite blended perfectly with the sweet caramelized beef on those small skewers. I also had the crispy spring rolls that were so much more delicate than any egg roll that I had ever had before. The follow up was, if you can believe it, even better. To this day, I have yet to ever eat a crab preparation as delectable as Jaiya’s crab with special sauce. The crab is the east coast blue crab, broken into pieces and stewed in this sauce that I cannot dissect not explain how all the ingredients combine to make a sauce that makes you forget where you are, who you are with, all that you can focus on is sucking the crab, sucking your fingers, dipping the crab continuously into the sauce to suck some more. When you have finally exhausted the crab source, you finish the rest of the sauce with your rice. This introduction into the complexity and refinement of Thai cuisine piqued my curiosity into the country itself. Cuisine such as this must come from a wonderful land. I do know that Thailand is divided in terms of climate by north and south. The north is more temperate and mountainous whereas the south is dominated by the jungle. This diversity in climate is also reflected in differences in cuisine, the south being spicier than the north. Now I am not 100% sure if I am correct on the geography which is an excellent reason why I have Thailand on my list.
Portugal is another destination I would love to explore. The first thought that comes to mind is Porto, the beautiful city in Portugal which is home to this magnificent fortified wine that in France, we simply adore as an aperitif and conversely the English enjoy it as a dessert wine. I actually have to confess that this is principal the reason for my infatuation with Portugal. I do want to say that the exquisite dish called paella comes to my mind when I think of Portugal, but I am not sure if I’m getting the culinary origin of paella mixed up between Portugal or Spain. But, honestly, does it really matter? All that counts is that I would very much like to spend a good amount of time visiting Portugal thoroughly.

Lastly, Turkey is my final destination. It is also part of a huge regret in my past travels. My sister and I were back packing through Europe. We were in Rome with a trio of lovely Australian girls who introduced us to the nicest 3 Canadian guys, who were on their way to Corfu, Greece. After we parted ways with the girls, my sister and I met up the boys in Corfu. The group of us got along so well and we had a fantastic time. Upon leaving Corfu, the boys invited us to accompany them to Istanbul, Turkey. Part of me really wanted to go but my sister really, really wanted to get back home to France, which we ended up doing. I don’t regret doing what my sister wanted at the time but now I do regret that opportunity. I have read so much about Turkey; the architecture, the collective history of East and West, the religious sites, and of course the cuisine.

I enjoyed writing this, I gradually realized that the only thing that mattered was why I wanted to visit. That “epiphany” was a big deal for me since I tend to get hamstrung by my desire to please people. I hope that whoever reads this piece enjoys it.

Weekend plans?

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arby s, crispix, day of rest, german shepard, plans, postaday2011, quiet time, sports events, weekend

I don’t think there any plans for us this weekend, no one is coming to visit, we aren’t slated to visit anyone. The weekend is free and clear. How wonderful and liberating. Having two children licensed to drive is a huge reason for the freedom of time. When the two were younger, we had sports events to drive to, skiing was really high on the list at one point, we also had sleep-overs at our house, sleep-overs to drive to, birthday parties and weekends seemed abnormally short.

Now the hubby and I can luxuriate in our time heavy weekend. Aside from the dogs needing me I don’t have anything on the agenda. Our son came over to visit this afternoon and mentioned perhaps seeing a movie with us if we were up for it. Translation, he would rather see a movie with us than his friends because it’s cheaper for him. Do we care? No, because spending an afternoon with our son at the movies and then at Arby’s is a treat. It is always wonderful spending time with baby Bob.

Our daughter is busy all weekend with her friends and boyfriend. Tonight she is at her semi-formal with the gang, she won’t be home until later, she invited the gang to sleep over as an extended party. Which leads into Saturday, she has plans with her friends during the day and then she has another couple’s event at the Church organized by the Youth group. Sunday will be her day of rest and I’m sure that she is going to need it, since there will have been a lot of dancing at the semi-formal, the sleep-over and probably the couple’s event as well.

So tomorrow morning I’ll be sleeping late or rather as late as Rex, our German Shepard, will allow me to, he is patient. After the dogs being walked and given biscuits and supplements, it is my turn for breakfast and coffee. I know that I won’t be seeing any young people for awhile. I’ll be enjoying my quiet time with my bowl of Crispix and coffee while reading my e-mail and then the Huffington Post. Yay for me.

What can’t you do?

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postaday2011

There are boatloads of things that I can’t do and I’m okay with that because it keeps me challenged. I am not musically inclined, I definitely need help with decorating during holiday season or anytime for that matter. I am not very good at decorating myself either, I prefer being comfortable over being sparkly. I love cooking and baking and the flavors are always good or sometimes they turn out great, the presentation always lacks the appropriate amount of skill. I am working on trying to make my culinary creations prettier. I am not creative in terms of writing poetry or doing arts and crafts. There are so many gifted handy people and I admire their skill and talent, I try not to be jealous and remind myself that I have my own little talents, they might not be as obvious but they are still there and they are mine.

How do you define your identity?

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culture, identity, postaday2011

I identify very closely with my culture as a French person. I know that I was born in this country and I am an American but I also feel French. I feel very comfortable speaking French, almost as comfortable as when I speak English. I am very close with my relatives over in France, my sister and I have been very fortunate in that our parents felt it to be very important to ship us off to France to stay with our grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins. My mother was especially relieved because she knew that we would be cared for, fed and would really get to know the family, and so my sister and I experienced daily life in France for at least two months at a time during our childhood. Those memories are a part of my identity, the love of cooking, the love of farmer’s markets and the sensory experience and its importance in life.

I could go on about my love affair with France and bore you, the smell in the air of lavender and rosemary in Provence . The sun beating down on the limestone hilltops, the sparse vegetation looking out over the beautiful Mediterranean Sea. I could go on about the Atlantic Ocean as well, the powerful force of the waves crashing on the sand, the presence of clean hot sand everywhere framed by large stretches of aromatic pine trees. You can smell the sun’s heat emanating from the sand, the pine aroma mingling with the salty sea water from the Atlantic Ocean, that scent should be captured and bottled, the fragrance would make billions in sales all throughout the world.

I just read that Mitt Romney was going to compare President Obama to Queen Marie Antoinette in terms of how out of touch the President is with the American people. I don’t identify with Marie Antoinette when I think of France, I rather identify with the pastry shop owners, the market vendors, the gardeners and I identify with the workers who revolt and stand up for their fair share, not violently, but by taking a stand as we have seen with the occupy Wall Street movement. That to me is part of being French, when we are not being treated fairly then we stand up and make it known.

What was the farthest that you have walked?

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bridges, miles, postaday2011, walking

I have always loved walking. Growing up in Astoria, Queens, just outside of Manhattan, made walking a way of life. My best friend and I would run rampant all over Astoria after school. Walking 10 to 15 blocks was a common occurrence after school, going from one friends house to another and then taking a detour to Astoria Park on our way home.

When I got older I started to view walking as an important part of exercise, I went out of my way to use my two feet instead of the subway or a taxi. During my nineteenth year, I went on a diet because during my freshman year of college at S.U.N.Y at Albany I had gained at least ten pounds, so not only was I miserable being away from home my freshman year of college but I felt fat as well. I planned to remedy both problems, I applied to N.Y.U for my sophomore year and luckily I had done very well at S.U.N.Y and I was accepted. I was so happy to be back home. That was one problem taken care of, now it was time to lose those extra pounds.

I went about losing weight the old-fashioned way through calorie restriction and exercise. I became an avid reader of Shape magazine and started to figure out various strategies to maximize my weight loss. I adopted the no fat weight loss regime and high cardio exercise on a daily basis. I was biking around Astoria early in the morning using my sister’s ten speed for 50 minutes at full speed every other day. I figured out that alternating different exercises would keep me from boredom so I began walking farther and farther. My strategy was working, the pounds were being lost at a steady rate. I gradually got to walking from my house on 27th Street and Ditmars Blvd all the way to the Queens borough Bridge, over the bridge and all the way down to Soho, way down in the village and then I would turn around and walk back home. I saved this walkathon for the weekend and it would take me about 4 hours. During the week what I did was get off the subway at 59th Street and 3rd Avenue and walk down 3rd avenue to N.Y.U at Washington Square Park. I was also taking advantage of the stairs at school and my job at Conran’s-Habitat, on my feet all day long walking up and down the stairs selling furniture after school and hauling merchandise up the stairs.

There are so many other instances of me walking crazy long distances, all in the interest of burning off calories and keeping my weight down. This gung-ho attitude towards walking is a by-product of my eating disorder, of which I am in recovery, and I am doing pretty well with managing my eating and how I feel about it. Whatever my struggles with my eating disorder, I have never regretted my love of walking, it is the best form of exercise aside from swimming that I can think of, you are outside in the “fresh” air, seeing whatever might be out there to be seen and getting your blood pumping, it is all good stuff.

Post Christmas emotions

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postaday2011

Twas Christmas night and all the gifts have been opened, the family dinner has been cooked, eaten and digested by now, the traveling back home from my mother’s house has been made in the overload haze of holiday cheer. As I unwind from the holiday onslaught, that had started after Halloween, it becomes, as it does every year, depressing that all that build up and anticipation for one day is over, and that one day has come and in a few short hours, will be gone.

Ever since I was a little girl, believing in Santa Claus or not, I grew sad on Christmas night because I realized that the next day was only another countdown to next year’s Christmas. 364 days seemed like an awfully long time to wait once again for Christmas. Having become an adult, I feel pretty much the same, realizing with the same despair that all that preparation is only going to come round again in less than 364 days, much less.

The overkill of the marketing, merchandising and materialism of Christmas becomes onerous. The true spirit of Christmas does negate most of those less than positive feelings, and I will try to keep the true spirit of Christmas alive and well in my heart and not get so depressed this year after the holidays. I think that perhaps if Christmas wasn’t so close to the end of the old year, maybe I wouldn’t be so melancholy. The thought of a new year, which essentially means another year added to my collection of years, makes me a little sad. I get attached to the age I am for the short year that lets me be that age, I don’t particularly enjoy giving up that year, I got good at being that age, why ruin a good thing?

Would you ever fight over a sneaker?

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postaday2011

No, never in a million years would I ever fight over a sneaker or any other material thing ever known to man. Nor would I ever wait on line overnight outside in front of a store, simply to buy something. I hate shopping and I think that material possessions are highly over-rated, that is just me. I have to admit to certain weaknesses such as books, handbags, shoes and kitchen ware. In my own defense I am very capable of restraining myself from any such purchases, I am quite content to simply browse the shoe boutiques and the handbag shops. It is difficult to only browse in bookstores which is why I don’t do it often, I wait for Christmas and my birthday.

I don’t know what those people were thinking, getting violent in stores over sneakers. Don’t they have any self-respect and generosity of spirit? There are lines that just shouldn’t be cross and fighting over a pair of sneakers is one of them. This is truly behavior that I will never understand, fighting over sneakers. Go figure.

What will you try to do everyday next year?

Tags

postaday2011

Everything remaining equal I see myself still posting everyday about something or other. When I read this quickly, my immediate thought was, what daily prompter, are you calling it quits? Am I on my own, now? I then thought about it and realized that I had panicked a tad. I really like having the daily post come to my inbox with a question or an observation. It gives me an opportunity to divulge parts of myself gradually to WordPress community.

I will continue with my book as well, at some point I’ll be finished writing and I will then be at phase two, which is the difficult part (I think), the editing of my book. During this time I’ll also be educating myself about publishing and self-publishing. So I envision that 2012 will be a continuation of 2011, writing everyday and broadening my writing outlets.

Pre-Christmas Eve

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postaday2011

All is quiet this slow day Friday December 23rd, it’s as if everyone is gearing up, regrouping for the day of all day’s and night of all night’s. It’s the calm before the storm. I’m a little tense because I’m driving down to my mother’s tomorrow morning. I’ve been feeling a tad poorly, my mother is feeling very fatigued and she is expecting me to do most of the cooking which is fine, I do love to cook. Why am I tense about cooking at my mother’s house? It is all about the logistics, her oven is different, her kitchen is tiny and we are going to be two exhausted people in a tiny kitchen. Thank goodness we get along and I am not controlling, I take direction very well so there won’t be any clashing. I am stressing as I do whenever it is a major holiday feast. I want the meal to be perfect and everyone knows that disasters can happen to anyone and at anytime. Is McDonald’s open on Christmas Eve? We are celebrating with the family tomorrow night so if the meal is a disaster, the odds of finding an alternative is easier on Christmas Eve than on Christmas day. I torture myself for no reason, we are going to be together as a family and that is what truly matters, tell that to my cook’s ego or insecurity. I wager it is insecurity, I don’t really have an ego. Good luck to me for tomorrow and good luck to everyone else as well who will be slaving away in the kitchens all around the world!

The distinction between who and whom

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postaday2011

Our dear Darryl from the Daily Post wrote one of his very handy odes to grammar and today Darryl chose to highlight the when and why we use who as opposed to whom. He broke it down and explained it very well, I thought so while I was reading his post. I like the way he explains all things grammatical, he is very clear when explaining the in and outs of English grammar. Now that I am typing away about to write about how I use who versus whom in my own writing, I am remembering the rules that Darryl noted to help you utilize the right form and it is straightforward. When the noun is the subject you use who, whereas when the noun is the object, that is when you use whom. The example he used explains it better than my muddling about, The boy who ate his shoe had a bad case of indigestion. The boy is the subject, hence who.
The boy, to whom I gave the Pepto Bismol, felt much better afterwards. The boy is the object because the Pepto was given to him.

These two examples will, I believe, stick in my mind for future writing purposes. I have to admit that in the grand scheme of writing the who/whom debate wouldn’t make my top ten of grammatical issues. Whom usually rears its ugly head verbally, maybe because the emphasis on the “m” makes the whole phrase sound more distinctive, more elegant, if you will I don’t know.

I will be interested to see if my two friends who pay attention to grammar, have pet peeves about when to use who or whom. I trust and respect their knowledge of grammar, I more or less agree with Darryl, that in the wide world of grammatical mistakes, the slip ups with who and whom is not as grating as the slip up between the proper usage of Me or I. That really grates when the wrong one is used.

I have to say that I am tired and this is me, forcing myself to write at 10:44 at night, so I apologize if this is dry, lame or stinky. Writing is a discipline and so, even though after doing a round trip drive to Boston, I feel that I owe it to myself to write. I am getting clearer and clearer everyday that I write, this is what I want to do when I grow up. I don’t mind doing the daily work, it might not be great writing but it is practice writing, so it counts. I am now going to stop and lay me down to sleep.