Informed Grace

I Heart Mom!

2010-05-08T22:54:00.002-05:00

Dreams Coming True

2010-04-18T10:54:00.004-05:00

I just realized that with only about five months until the wedding, I need to hurry up and figure out where my fiancé and I will spend our first days as newlyweds. So I'm finally getting serious about planning my honeymoon.

Some little girls dream about their wedding day, but I never did. I only dreamed about the honeymoon, and I always imagined I would fly off to some faraway place and spend a week or two in unimaginable luxury. I had visions of Tahiti or the Caribbean, and recently I looked online and found places like this Canadian lodge.

In an unexpected turn of events, though, I don't have just one trip to plan for, I have two: our honeymoon and a journey to Perth.

My parents are returning to work in Australia for another year. Last time they were there, my fiancé and I visited them in Brisbane. It was incredible. The city was great, within a couple of hours drive from both beaches and rainforest; the people were friendly; the lifestyle in the area where my parents were fortunate enough to live was enviable — outdoor restaurants along the river where you could sip a cold beer at sunset, for example, and botanical gardens at the edge of downtown, and lovely little restaurants everywhere.

My fiancé and I could have never made the trip to Australia if my parents had not been there to provide us with a place to stay. Even without the cost of accommodation, it was very expensive. So, now that my parents are going back for another year, this time to the other side of the country, I want to take the opportunity to go back to Australia. But that means we'll have to save every extra penny in order to pay for the airfare and any other costs. Which means that I have to choose between Australia and my long-awaited luxury honeymoon.

Why don't we make Australia our honeymoon? My dad suggested the same thing. But there are a couple of reasons why I don't want to do that.

First, I feel that a honeymoon should truly be about the newlyweds spending some precious time together away from the stress and demands of work, home, other people, etc. I love my family, and I want to see them in Australia, but I don't want to see them on my honeymoon. (We're not even bringing our dog on our honyemoon, which, for those who know me, gives you an idea of how special the honeymoon is to me.)

Second, I've always felt it was important to take your honeymoon directly after the wedding. I don't know why exactly — perhaps it's one of the few ways in which I want to stick to tradition in this whole wedding business. So I don't want to postpone my honeymoon until 2011, which is when we plan to go to Australia.

There's just one solution that I can see, then. Cut back dramatically on the cost of the honeymoon, and save our money for Australia instead. That's as close as I can get to having my cake and eating it too. In addition, I'm thinking about buying simple silver rings as "interim" wedding rings and using the money we would have spent on more expensive rings for Australia instead. Then, we can buy each other our "permanent" wedding rings for one of our anniversaries. I'd rather travel than have a chunk of costly metal on my finger. I'll still be married to Bernard no matter what my ring is made of, and that's what counts.

We have $1,000 available for the honeymoon, a generous gift from my parents. Anything above that comes out of the money that we could be saving for Australia. So, I did some research today and found some all-inclusive resorts in Mexico. There are also hotels in Texas and nearby New Mexico and Arizona that we could look into. That would mean a short flight and a few nights in a nice hotel. As long as I can truly relax, have fun, and enjoy Bernard's company for a few days, I'll be happy.

I'm calling the travel agent tomorrow.

Keepin' It Real: Leadership at Work and at the Dog Park

2010-04-14T23:59:00.002-05:00

The other day, I mentioned to my dad that you can learn a lot from a dog. He laughed, but he listened to what I had to say. And I believe you really can learn a lot from a dog.

For example, I just got done listening to this audiobook my boss gave me, Leadership and Self-Deception by the Arbinger Institute. One of the points the book makes is that people can sense insincerity in the workplace. If you pretend to care about your employees or co-workers, they'll know, either immediately or eventually, that you're faking it. You will lose credibility. You have to truly care about them in order to garner loyalty and respect. You have to be genuine with them. You can't be a true leader without being a true person.

It's the same with dogs, I've decided. You can take your dog to a hundred training classes, but if you don't build a true bond with your dog, she'll never really respect you. She might roll over if you have treats in your hand, but she still won't always stay when you ask her to, or come to you when you call her.

I'll give you an example. When I was in Holland in January for my grandmother's funeral, I spent a day with one of my cousins. We stopped in a beachfront surf shop near his house for a few minutes, and a resident golden retriever gave us a mildly curious sniff and then continued his ambling around the store. On our way out, we drove past the back door of the shop just as the owner was taking some boxes to the dumpster. His arms full of boxes, he turned toward the dog when he saw us approaching in the car, and told him, quietly but firmly, to stay. The dog, instead of crossing the street to join his human, waited patiently for our car to pass.

The dog was off leash, free to run away to the beach or do anything he pleased, but instead he followed his human out of the store and listened perfectly when he was told to stay. Perhaps he is just a wonderfully docile and obedient dog. But I would bet that the dog also enjoys a relaxed and happy relationship with the shop owner.

I have a book of dog tricks, and I have taught my dog some cute ones, like how to twirl and how to shake hands. She's supersmart and will do anything for a piece of food or a tennis ball. But teaching tricks no longer has the allure it used to. I'm focusing now on bonding with my dog by simply being a good caretaker for her. If I truly care about her, which I do, and if I set fair but firm expectations of her (no jumping on guests, no stealing food off our plates, listening to us the first time when we ask her to sit, etc.), which I am working on, I believe she will sense it, and that her respect and loyalty will follow.

Kids Who Don't Exist Yet

2010-04-13T23:18:00.007-05:00

I had this weird moment yesterday at my parents' house where I was walking toward the open door that separates the kitchen from the living room, and I saw, for a split second, the image of a couple imaginary future kids running through the door. It was a whole life story in one fleeting moment — I had two kids, they were visiting their grandparents, and they were having fun running around the house. Is that normal? Is my biological clock taking over my brain?

To find the answers to those questions, I headed to the Internet, of course. There are several blogs I read on a regular basis, and one of those is Penelope Trunk. Penelope's blog fascinates me because, while I don't always agree with everything she says, she's a great writer, her posts are compelling and informative, and her topics are exactly the kinds of things I wonder about — like, how to be successful in your career, how to deal with challenges in the workplace, how to write openly about your life. Plus, she's been blogging forever so there are a ton of things to read on her site. For example, here's one from 2002 about having kids in your mid to late thirties.

I'm getting married in September, three days before my 31st birthday. Not that I believe marriage is a prerequisite for kids, but my husband-to-be and I decided to wait until we're legally bound to each other before we start a family. We have a trip to Australia planned for about a year from now, though, so kids will have to wait until after that. (I don't see myself travelling through the Outback with morning sickness.) I hope I can keep my biological clock at bay until we come back from Down Under!

(If you already have kids, one of the other blogs I read regularly is Opie Dawn. Check it out if you like modern, adorable, stylish children's products, along with ideas on how to enjoy time with your family.)

I Love Brunch

2010-04-04T18:05:00.001-05:00

Of all the meals you can eat in a week, surely brunch is the best. By definition, it's a combination of two meals (breakfast and lunch), which gives you license to linger over the meal for a couple of hours, at least, and truly savor it. The fare is usually delicious (my favorites are smoked salmon, cream cheese, eggs, pastries, crepes, Dutch-style pancakes, and a good cup of coffee to finish it off). Not to mention, when else is it acceptable to drink alcohol before noon? (Mimosas!)

Good Enough

2010-04-02T23:13:00.003-05:00

I took a half day of vacation today, with the intent of breaking out the elbow grease and scrubbing my house until everything gleamed.

Instead, I left work at 12:30, headed to the venue where my fiance and I are getting married in a few months, dropped off the damage deposit check and spoke for a while with the owner about ideas for our reception. Then I headed to the bank to take care of some business there. Then I went home and made myself toast with cheese and enjoyed it on the patio with a mug of tea and a homemade chocolate chip cookie. Then I took my dog for a short walk and played ball with her in the driveway. It had been a while since I had been able to relax like that, just sitting on the patio, walking and playing with my dog. I also filled out the census form that the government sent to my house and popped it in the mail. And, I had a long discussion with my neighbor, as she sipped a beer at my kitchen table, about the homeowners association, which is holding its first meeting ever tomorrow morning.

By most standards, I would say, a fairly productive afternoon.

So why, when dusk began to descend, did I still feel like I had been unproductive? I thought about my original purpose for taking the afternoon off: to give the house a very necessary cleaning. I hadn't done that. But, I had spent some "quality time" with my dog after weeks of working late and barely seeing her. I had attended to wedding and banking tasks. I had connected with a neighbor. I had enjoyed some quiet time on my patio. But I still felt like there was so much more I needed to do.

After dusk, I cleaned up my kitchen, so at least I can say I did some cleaning today. But I also realized that setting impossible standards for oneself is a good way to squash motivation and progress. No, I didn't achieve the perfect, sparkling house I had imagined I would with a whole afternoon free to focus on it. But I accomplished several other tasks that needed to get done, and best of all, I was able to relax a bit and give my dog the attention she deserves.

Bringing the Backyard to Life

2010-03-30T22:59:00.002-05:00

One thing about living in Houston is that you better enjoy the nice weather while it's here. Early spring and late fall are usually very nice in this city, but the summertime sucks.

So on Sunday my fiance Bernard and I decided to take advantage of the cool, sunny weather to plant a new tree in our backyard, which is the size of a postage stamp but nonetheless needs some serious landscaping. After two years living this house, it's still an embarrassment how little we have done with the yard. Sunday was the first step.

We went to a local plant store called Buchanan's and after much perusing decided on an Oklahoma redbud. Ours is about 5 feet tall, with purple blossoms. It's got a lot of growing to do.

Amazingly, this tree in its 10-gallon pot, two other smaller plants, a 40-pound bag of mulch and a 30-pound bag of compost, along with me, Bernard and our dog Nema all fit into one four-door Volkswagen Jetta. The Buchanan's employee looked worried as he wheeled the tree up to our car, but we all squeezed in (although the 55-pound canine had to sit on my lap for the ride home).

When we got home, we pulled the crape myrtle out of the ground and planted the redbud in its spot. (The crape myrtle has barely grown in two years and has been plagued by mildew and lack of sufficient sunlight.) Then we stood back and admired our handiwork.

And don't worry about the fate of our unearthed crape myrtle. That afternoon, we took it to my parents' house, where we replanted it in a sunny spot by their front door.

Handmade vs. Store-Bought

2010-02-27T20:58:00.003-06:00

I can only speak from a female perspective here, but I would guess it's the same for guys — certain clothes just make you feel good. For men, it might be a tux, a really nice suit, or even just a new pair of jeans. For me, it's a really nice, well-fitting dress (of which there aren't many in my wardrobe, if any). Especially when it's a dress that makes you feel like a princess.

My mom asked if she could take me wedding-dress shopping today, so of course I said yes. She and my dad had spotted a bridal store near their house on a recent car trip, so I met my mom there today and we proceeded to pick out about five dresses I liked. The saleslady later brought several more options. Here are a couple of the top contenders:

There were two other dresses that really piqued my interest as well, but because I couldn't decide on one, we decided to wait. I can't wait too long, however, as the wedding is in less than seven months.

Another option is that my mother can sew my wedding dress herself, which appeals to me not only for the sentimental value but also because I admire anything handmade. If we can't find the right dress in a store, we are going to look for bridal patterns at a fabric store. I imagine it will make my wedding day even more special knowing that I am wearing a dress my mother created.

The Yin and Yang of Television

2010-02-25T22:59:00.005-06:00

Television is often an insidious force in my life. Sometimes it brings me pure joy, like when I watched the beautiful Olympics opening ceremony on Feb. 13. But other times, it saps me of my time and mental energy until I feel too weak to even reach for the remote to turn it off. Pathetic!

For example, there are some TV shows that I know if I start watching them, my evening is gone — I simply can’t turn them off. Much to the chagrin of my fiancé, this includes reruns of Roseanne and That ’70s Show. Other shows pull me in with the promise of an intriguing plot and then, in the end, all they offer are predictable clichés — this happens in crime dramas like Criminal Minds, CSI, and Law & Order. Just about any sitcom will turn out to be lame and predictable as well. I'd be better off reading a good book. Or watching paint dry.

A few shining examples out there do redeem the television industry. I’m thinking of shows like The IT Crowd, The Mighty Boosh, Dexter, Battlestar Galactica, and Deep Space 9. The first two make me howl with laughter; the third one draws me with its compelling character development; and the last two created worlds so complex, so believable — even though they were set in space — that I became very invested in the personal and political dramas that played out there.

Despite how much I love those shows, however, I am constantly aware of a little voice, in the back of my mind, that says, "Instead of watching TV, you should be [insert any task or hobby or chore here]." I think it's because I know I watch too much TV, and that there are plenty of other, more fulfilling things I could be doing. I've thought about unplugging the TV for a week for a detox, but haven't quite worked up the motivation needed to do it yet. Plus, I think my fiancé might start a riot if I suggested it.

I believe that if everyone had enough room in their house for a separate TV room, it would be best to keep the TV as a special destination to be savored, like a movie theater, rather than as a continuous presence in our lives — always on, always tempting.

Seize the Sunshine

2010-02-07T23:15:00.005-06:00

Yesterday my fiancé Bernard had the wonderful idea to take advantage of the first sunshine we'd seen in days by taking a trip to Lake Houston State Park, about a 45-minute drive from our house. We invited my parents and brother, who met us there.

I had fun packing our picnic basket before the trip, with 10 little mandarins (for us and for my family), two sandwiches each for me and Bernard, two thermoses with hot tea, and a box of cheese-onion crackers that I brought back from my grandmother's house in Holland.

We arrived at the park and an enthusiastic if somewhat wry woman at the park headquarters gave us maps and detailed instructions of the best paths to walk. We set off across Peach Creek Bridge and around Peach Creek Loop, an interesting trail with varied elevations, a view of the creek along one stretch — and lots of mud. It's been raining here for weeks, something we forgot when we set out on the hike, and so much of the trail was mush. Luckily I was wearing my hiking boots, because in sneakers my feet would have been infiltrated by mud pretty quickly.

My brother traverses Peach Creek Bridge as my dad,
in the background, takes his photo.

We stopped toward the end of our walk so that my dad and brother could pop into the Nature Center while I played with my dog outside, and Bernard and my mother relaxed in rocking chairs in the sunshine on the Nature Center's porch. My dad and brother said it was an excellent Nature Center, like a little museum, but with live snakes.

My mother enjoys the Nature Center rocking chair.

Nema and I play in the field.

At the end of our hike, which took less than two hours, we returned to the car, grabbed the picnic supplies and set ourselves up at a nearby picnic table, where we proceeded with our feast. The hot tea tasted great after the long walk, especially because it was the end of the afternoon and the sun had been replaced with a chilly wind.

During the picnic, we opened the box of crackers from my grandmother's house and shared them, and we toasted to her memory with our thermos teacups.

When Bernard and I invited my family to join us at the park, we didn't think they'd accept, because they had a lot of things to do around the house that day. But after initially demurring, they called back and said they'd decided that since the sun was shining that day, and might not shine tomorrow, they were going to seize the opportunity. As a result, we got to spend time together in nature, we got some exercise, my dog got to visit a new place, and we had a lovely time, despite the mud.

A random kid glances at Bernard on the bridge.

It was a good decision, actually, because the sun did not shine much today.

Pizza Party

2010-02-05T00:01:00.002-06:00

Surround yourself with people who can cook really, really well — and who love giving dinner parties — and you'll never go hungry for either food or good conversation. And by dinner parties I don't mean fancy ones like you see in movies. I just mean a bunch of people who like food getting together at someone's house to eat.

I'm lucky enough to live near a longtime friend of mine who has a knack for picking great cookbooks and turning out delicious recipes. This girl even makes her own yogurt, grows her own sprouts and bakes her own bread — impressive.

My sister is another such person. Unfortunately, I don't live very near her, but when she visits and cooks at my parents' house, you can bet it's going to be yum.

Last month, she spent the weekend in town and decided to make us pizza. Banish any thoughts of DiGiornos or Papa John's from your minds. This was gourmet pizza.

She made and tossed the pizza dough by hand, and placed superfresh ingredients on each one. The first was an eggplant, basil and tomato pizza with various wonderful cheeses.

Here's a closeup to make your mouth water:

The second pizza was covered in butternut squash and fried sage leaves. Incredibly tasty!

We served the pizzas with this very nice California chardonnay:

My sister and my friend have so inspired me with their cooking that I have invested in another cookbook and am doing my best to replace my habit of eating too much in restaurants with homecooked meals, made by moi.

Speaking of cookbooks, for a great listing of vegetarian cookbooks, check out this post on Gwyneth Paltrow's blog, GOOP.

Nema in the Sun

2010-02-04T00:01:00.001-06:00

One of the simple pleasures in my life is watching my dog sunbathe in the mornings. In warm weather, she'll ask to be let out onto the patio, where she'll sprawl on the outdoor furniture and soak up the sun. In colder weather, she'll just catch rays through our living room window. It's a peaceful sight.

Real Men Wrap Pipes

2010-02-03T22:43:00.004-06:00

We've been having uncharacteristically cold weather here in Houston for weeks now, starting on Dec. 4 when it actually snowed. Since then we've had several freezing episodes, which newscasters referred to as "Arctic blasts", and people looked for excuses to stay home from work due to "possible icy roads". One day, it was so cold that I went on an unsuccessful search for a pair of reasonably priced gloves. After visiting about half a dozen stores, which had either sold out of gloves or had only one or two expensive pairs remaining, I found what was literally the second-to-last pair of gloves at a Target for $9.99 — but they were men's gloves and way too big for me. I bought them anyway, out of desperation, but the next morning when I wore them while walking the dog I felt like a puppy myself, waving my too-big paws at passersby.

However, one thing I discovered during the first freeze a few weeks back is that my fiancé is quite adept at wrapping pipes. In fact, I would say that of our five neighbors (some of whom didn't bother to wrap their pipes at all) he did the best job. I also discovered that it's possible for me to be impressed by things like pipe-wrapping, which is not something I'd ever given much thought to before everyone began warning us that the subzero temperatures could burst the water lines.

I was so impressed by the job he did, in fact, that I took photos of it.

Now, maybe this is a perfectly horrible pipe-wrapping job — if it is, I wouldn't really know. But it sure seems like those pipes are well-insulated to me.

A few days later, my sister was glancing through the photos on my digital camera and saw these pipe pictures. She asked me what they were, and when I told her, she gave me the weirdest look. I think becoming a homeowner has cost me my "cool older sister" status — not that I was ever that cool.

Holland: Day 8, and Today

2010-01-16T16:46:00.003-06:00

I'm skipping over Day 7 in Holland for now, although I will try to write about it later. I'm going to move ahead to Day 8, Saturday Sept. 12, the day I celebrated my 30th birthday in Holland.

My real birthday is actually a few days later, but since I was leaving Holland on Sept. 13, I celebrated it early. It was very important to me to spend my birthday with my grandmother, who was there when I was born and after whom I am named (my middle name), because I knew it would probably be the last time I'd see her. In August 2006, she was diagnosed with cancer and was given three to six months to live. More than three years later, in September 2009, she was still with us, and I was acutely aware of what a treasure that was.

She passed away this morning, January 16, 2010.

On Friday Sept. 11, my aunt Ellen called the bakery to make sure they would have enough of the pastries ("gebakjes" in Dutch) we like, so we could pick them up fresh the next day. We ordered tompoesen (like a Napoleon) and moorkoppen (round, cream-filled, chocolate-covered éclairs). On Saturday, we picked up my birthday pastries and took them over to my grandmother's. Ellen and Oma ("Grandmother" in Dutch) presented me with a nice birthday gift: three tall, colorful, pillar candles and 20 euros. I am looking at the candles as I write this; they are sitting on a shelf in my living room, as yet unlit, reminding me of that Saturday.

My cousin Michael stopped by with his three cute kids, and scored one of the extra pastries I had bought. My aunt Nancy and her boyfriend Geert also came by, enjoyed some birthday "gebakjes" and gave me a lovely gift of some Hugo Boss women's perfume and lotion. My aunt Astrid and uncle Frits also stopped by, and we took a nice photo together on Oma's sunny balcony. Her balcony overlooks a canal with a bridge arching over it, and as kids my brother and sister and I would take the old bread crusts that my grandparents saved and feed them to the ducks at the canal. It was one of the delights of my childhood.

That evening, Ellen made salmon and Dutch-style potatoes and green beans ("snijbonen") for dinner, and the four of us — Ellen, Oma, my mother and me — enjoyed our last meal together.

Those days I had with my Oma in September were priceless, and I can only be grateful I was able to see her just a few months ago. Other than the house I grew up in, no place in the world is as vivid in my memory as my grandmother's apartment by the canal, with its heavy wood furniture, bright kitchen, cozy living room and tiny spare bedroom, where I spent many nights.

Tonight, after sunset, I may light my birthday candles for the first time. My grandmother once told my sister, "Every day is a holiday for me." It reminds me of a quote by Thomas Dreier that I read on New Year's Day this year: "If we are ever to enjoy life, now is the time — not tomorrow, nor next year, nor in some future life after we have died. The best preparation for a better life next year is a full, complete, harmonious, joyous life this year. Today should always be our most wonderful day."

So, I'm going to light those candles, and I'm going to enjoy them.

Weekend Breakfast

2009-10-18T10:22:00.002-05:00

There's nothing like waking up to glorious weather on a weekend morning and making a hot breakfast of eggs and coffee.

Keeps one feeling human.

Holland: Day 6

2009-10-12T21:07:00.008-05:00

Until Thursday, Sept. 10, I never knew that the nation of Holland was born in a little city called Dordrecht, bordered by five rivers. Dordrecht is, I discovered, not only the oldest city in Holland, but also a charming place with sailboats in the canals, lovely shopping streets, and plenty of historical landmarks.

My uncle C and aunt L took me and my mom to Dordrecht as a day trip. First, we visited the local Tourist Bureau, known as the VVV in Holland. It was a very nice building with lots of information on the historical significance of the area. Then, we ate lunch at La Place, a department store eatery that usually has good lunches. After that, my uncle led us on a tour of the city, pointing out landmarks and incredibly old houses dating back to the 1600s.

We then took a wonderful "whisperboat" (fluisterboot) — so named because the boat is very quiet — tour down the canals of Dordrecht.

We saw picturesque scenes of boats decorated with Dutch flags.

A fireboat is docked along a Dordrecht canal.

Wouldn't it be nice to live along a pretty canal like this one?

The tour we took included replications of Dutch artworks along the canal walls.

A Dordrecht resident displays a Michelle Obama sign in his or her window. (It's always interesting to see items from where I live (the U.S.) in other countries—like the time I saw a man in Brisbane, Australia, wearing a Barack Obama shirt.)

Dordrecht's City Hall ("Stadhuis") is a beautiful building visible from below as one sails underneath it on a canal boat.

After the boat tour we walked around the city some more and stopped in a little chocolate shop called Oh La La, in which one of the two men working there placed fresh, handmade bonbons into boxes while a machine along the back wall mixed a truly yummy-looking batch of liquid chocolate. The shop was small and smelled wonderfully like cocoa. We bought some chocolate-covered nougat and a couple of bars of berry-and-nut-filled chocolate, which tasted as if it had been made by hand only hours before. It was probably the best chocolate I have ever eaten in my life.

We also stopped in to see a couple of art exhibits and an exhibit about Calvinism, a religion that greatly influenced Dutch culture centuries ago.

The weather cooperated with us that day, lending us sunshine and enough breeze to keep us cool. Dordrecht was a pleasant place to spend a Thursday, and I hope I'm able to go back one day and see the rest of the sights and museums that we didn't have time for on this trip. As the city where Holland first declared itself an independent nation in the 1500s, it has a lot of history to share. Imagine a city where people are still living in houses that are 400 or 500 years old. Amazing.

Holland: Day 5

2009-09-28T21:47:00.007-05:00

After our nice trip to Rotterdam on Tuesday, my mom and I went back for some more the next day. We took the tram to the train station and then took the train to Rotterdam to meet my aunt Nancy for lunch. We were early, so we passed the time by shopping in a very nice store called de Bijenkorf across the street from City Hall, or Stadhuis. As we passed the Stadhuis, we saw a dark-haired couple, the woman in a white wedding dress and the man in a dark suit, standing next to a white horse-drawn carriage in front of the Stadhuis steps. In Holland, I think people get married on weekdays more often than in the U.S.

De Bijenkorf sells everything from fresh, non-boxed bonbons (strategically located by the front doors so you see and smell the decadence when you walk in) to clothes, home accessories, and lots more. In the store, my mom found a nice grey wallet to replace the black one she's had for at least 10 years, which was falling apart. She also bought a designer cheese grater — no, that's not a joke. It's made by Alessi and looks really cool:

I found two blue-and-white Dutch potholders and matching oven mitts, and I was very happy with my purchase.

We then had a nice lunch at a restaurant's outdoor patio with Nancy. Rotterdam is a bustling city during the week, and I'm sure in the evenings and weekends as well. The area by the Stadhuis has wide plazas of gray stone, with lots of shops and restaurants, and a tram line running through it. When I was there I imagined what it would be like to live and work there, taking the train to work and walking in my heels or boots to an office, then walking around the city to grab lunch and run errands during my break, perhaps meeting friends for a drink at an outdoor patio after work sometime.

Of course, it's easy to idealize a place when you're a visitor and don't have to deal with any of the inevitable daily annoyances that plague all places. But still, there's something just a tiny bit magical about a place where you see a beautiful couple getting married on a Wednesday, across from a store with chocolates and sweets piled high in enticing displays, as multitudes of pedestrians make their way from one place to another.

Holland: Day 4

2009-09-24T23:27:00.009-05:00

My mom had planned an outing on my fourth day in Holland: she, my aunt Ellen and I were to take a ride on the Spido, a ship that tours the Maas River on Rotterdam Harbor, the third-largest harbor in the world.

So, on Tuesday Sept. 8, we took a taxi to the Spido, bought tickets, poked around a tourist shop, and then waited to board the Spido. As the previous tour group was disembarking, I noticed some of them were disabled in some way, apparently mentally; some of them were teenagers or young adults and a few were older adults. It must have been a special school or group or care facility taking a day trip.

Once we boarded the Spido, of course coffee and cake were the first priority!

Some of the most memorable sights we saw from the boat were:

The Holland America pier from which my grandparents and their five children set off for Australia in 1956. The journey took six weeks. While in Australia, my aunt Ellen was born, and once the family returned to Holland several years later, the seventh child was born.

The architecturally stunning Erasmus Bridge.

The river-side edge of my hometown in Holland, complete with a picturesque windmill.

After our boat ride, we ate lunch at a lovely little outdoor lounge at the river's edge, enjoying the sunshine and relaxing atmosphere. Here's a view of the boardwalk, with the restaurant on the left:

Our quiet Tuesday in Rotterdam on the Spido along the Maas River was a pleasant one.

Holland: Day 3

2009-09-23T22:11:00.000-05:00

My third day in Holland, Monday Sept. 7, was warm and sunny. My mom, my aunt Ellen and I visited my other aunt Nancy and her family at their newly built, supermodern house in Rotterdam.

Nancy and her boyfriend recently spent a couple of years designing this house with an architect and then having it built along a canal in a lovely neighborhood. The house is all white, black and steel; with hard slate and wood floors; and the garden is a work in progress with native plants and a pond filled with little frogs.

Getting to Nancy's house was an interesting trip. First, the three of us walked to the tram stop near my grandmother's house and took the tram to the metro station, where we boarded the underground metro train, or subway. I scanned my ticket the wrong way at the door and accidentally invalidated it. Because I knew I had paid, I slipped through the door behind my mom, whose ticket was still valid, but the doors shut on my elbows and set off an alarm. I was too surprised to be embarrassed at that point. I walked over to the office and told a metro staff member what happened. He seemed amused that I even bothered to go over to them to explain what happened, and waved me on.

It was warm enough in the metro train to be slightly uncomfortable, made worse by how crowded it was. My aunt got a call on her cell phone and talked too loudly on it, the way older people often do, causing the young Dutch man sitting behind her to smile a small smile to himself. The walls inside of the metro train had been spray-painted with graffiti, and while the paint was still wet it had run down the walls in rivulets. Most of the paint was black, so against the beige walls of the train, it looked like running mascara, as if the train were depressed.

We arrived at our subway stop and exited, and because my ticket had been previously invalidated I again had to squeeze out the doors directly behind my mother, and again the alarm went off. But this time my aunt was standing right outside the doors, ready to whisk us away in her getaway car to her new house.

Funny how you can go from sitting in a hot subway train with crying walls to relaxing in a luxurious house with wine and snacks and sunshine on the patio in just a matter of minutes.

Going Dutch for Dinner

2009-09-22T17:54:00.008-05:00

For my birthday, my good friends Amy and Charlie presented me with a heavy, red Dutch oven. The very next evening, I decided to put it to good use. Although I've been a pescetarian for three years (meaning I eat no other meat but fish) I had a hankering for chicken and decided to splurge on some organic, free-range chicken from Whole Foods.

I've never cooked a meal in a Dutch oven before so luckily Amy and Charlie gave me a cookbook as well. I picked a recipe and modified it a little.

I used skinless, boneless chicken thighs, cumin seeds, cherry tomatoes, red onion, whole wheat pasta, olive oil, vegetable broth, salt, and pepper, with the convenience of a bag of frozen vegetables on the side.

I also added whole cloves of garlic to the mix.

I pre-baked the cherry tomatoes with olive oil, salt and pepper for 15 minutes.

Then I combined the rest of the ingredients with the tomatoes.

I baked the dish for 50 minutes at 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

My end result falls short in the presentation department, but it sure tasted good. The Dutch oven seems to allow the flavors to combine well, and the food turns out nice and hot.

Holland 2009: Days 1 and 2

2009-09-16T20:41:00.008-05:00

Last week, I visited the country in which I was born: Holland. Although I would have ideally liked to write about each day there as it happened, I didn't have a computer with me, and my aunt's was too slow to rely on. So, instead I will spend the next few nights blogging about my visit in retrospect.

The day I arrived, Saturday Sept. 5, I was jetlagged and had to take an afternoon nap at my grandmother's house — a place of great comfort and fun since I was a small girl. I then used my brand-new video camera (an early birthday gift from my fiancé) to record images of my grandmother, one of my aunts, and my mother, who had travelled to Holland several weeks before for a visit as well. I also videotaped the view from my grandmother's balcony, overlooking the canal and bridge where ducks congregate. When I was little it was the highlight of my day to take my grandparents' old bread crusts, which they saved for the ducks, down to the canal's edge and throw the bits of food to the quacking animals.

The next day, Sunday Sept. 6, my mom and and took a lovely walk in the Delfland, a farmland area near my grandmother's apartment. Below is one photo I took during our Sunday walk:

Here is a photo of one of the little farms in the Delfland:

One of the many nice things about Holland is the everyday beauty it has — you can find it in the little things, like the window displays of chocolate shops, sailboats nestled near each other in canals and rivers, old-fashioned windmills made of brown brick, flower pots on window sills, cafés, architecture. This Delfland is another example. It's a beautiful area in between the cities of Schiedam and Delft, and while Schiedam is not known for its beauty, it still offers this pleasant, relaxing farmland in which to walk on a Sunday afternoon.

Tomorrow, I Turn Thirty

2009-09-14T20:03:00.002-05:00

Tonight is my last evening in my twenties.

For the last few months, I've been dreading turning thirty. Mostly, because I feel like I missed a lot of opportunities in the last decade. Opportunities in education, friendships, in my personal development, in saving money, and other areas. Today, though, I realized that instead of dwelling on what I didn't get done in my twenties, it would be less depressing to catalog what I have accomplished.

I won't bore you by listing all those things here, because one's accomplishments are really most interesting to oneself, but I suspect that once I really start thinking about it, I will have a long list of achievements or activities that will make me proud of how I spent the last 10 years of my life. And, I hope that when you read this blog post, you too will give your own self-esteem a boost by taking stock of everything you can be proud of in your life so far, no matter your age.

Land of Orange

2009-09-08T16:05:00.006-05:00

I am in Holland this week, visiting family and making plenty of mental notes for future blog topics. I arrived Saturday, Sept. 5, and the weather was mildly sunny, and it felt nice to be back in my grandmother's little apartment, but also strange because it's been three years since I last visited. I had a bad case of jetlag, for some reason, perhaps because of the cold I picked up just before I left, and I am still fighting feelings of fatigue several days later.

Holland has changed. At least, the part of Holland where I am now. Or, perhaps I have changed. In the last three years, it seems that I have become more attached to my home in the U.S. and have begun disconnecting from what always felt like home here in Holland. Maybe that's because I bought my first house in the U.S. Maybe it's because I am turning thirty in a week and, in turning over the page to a new decade in my life, I am also leaving behind some of my childhood attachments to this place.

However, I have enjoyed some very nice, familiar things on this trip so far. The beautiful September sun. The cute, bricked roads. The flowers everywhere -- on restaurant tables, in shops, on tour boats, even. My grandmother and aunts and cousins. The incredibly bucolic Delfland just around the corner from my grandmother's apartment, with pastures, farms, horses, sheeps, cows and neat rows of trees lining walking paths.

But, for the first time, I do not feel completely safe walking or riding a bike from my grandmother's to my aunt's apartment -- a journey that literally takes about a minute and a half on the bike. There are suddenly "hang jeugd" -- or "hanging out youth" -- loitering around my grandmother's building where before I do not remember ever feeling unsafe. On the news there are stories of armed robberies, teenagers caught in crossfire, and women being pushed off their bikes and attacked.

As a virtual foreigner in my own land, it's entirely possible that I am letting a tiny feeling of nervousness turn unnecessarily into paranoia . . . but for the first time since I moved away from Holland I find myself yearning for the boring small town I used to live in near the coast. Today I spoke to an old friend of mine who still lives in that town, and I asked him if things had changed there. He said, no, not one bit. I felt a great sense of relief where before I may have felt a tinge of disdain.

On Friday I will go and visit my friend in that town, and I will see for myself if it has changed. But as I am idealizing it, it would behoove me to remember that when we lived there, aggressive pubescents also took pleasure in terrorizing other kids. Perhaps then the fear was of bullies. Now it's of bullies with guns.

Regardless of how Holland has or has not changed, I stil love it, just as I love my home in the U.S. It is interesting to be from two places at once. It's a feeling I can't quite describe -- its not like a having a split personality but rather having double personalities. Two in one.

Mercy and Money

2009-09-02T22:34:00.003-05:00

I read an article yesterday about how the egg hatchery industry kills 200 million baby chickens each year — some by throwing them alive into a grinder — simply because they are male and can't produce eggs.

For anyone who cares enough to do even a tiny bit of research, it's excruciatingly clear how much suffering and misery exists in any industry where large numbers of animals are raised for food, whether it's for meat, eggs or milk.

Here are a few excerpts from the article I mentioned:

These chicks, which a narrator says are males, are then shown being dropped alive into a grinding machine.

In other parts of the video, a chick is shown dying on the factory floor amid a heap of egg shells after falling through a sorting machine. Another chick, also still alive, is seen lying on the floor after getting scalded by a wash cycle, according to the video narrator.

For some people, the answer is to not consume any animal products. That is definitely a choice I find no fault with. However, my ideal solution would not be to force everyone to become vegetarian, but instead for it to be possible to people to enjoy meat, eggs and milk without contributing to the agony of millions and millions of living, breathing beings. That means the horrors of factory farming would need to end. Sadly, the only way those horrors will end is if it becomes more profitable for the factories to care well for the animals than to mistreat them.

As a friend of mine wrote to me today, "It is so much work trying to shop and buy from a company with good practices and standards." And that is what's so frustrating as a consumer. Grocery stores and shops are like minefields, filled with factory-farmed chicken that claims to be "natural", toxic baby formula, poisoned pet food, lead-tainted toys, and who knows what else.

Why have the world's markets — and the world's consumers — allowed profit and convenience to come before basic human decency? Who is protecting the baby chickens being manhandled along a conveyor belt that is heading toward a grinder, and who is protecting us from our complicity in their deaths?

Party Time

2009-08-31T23:21:00.003-05:00

I wanted to give an update to my Aug. 23 post. So far, making myself earn my meals has been working well. I get up in the morning, try to drink water before I have my coffee, and have a healthy breakfast (whole grain cereal or fruit and eggs, for example). At work I wait until I am feeling pretty hungry and then get as healthy a lunch as I can in the cafeteria. Then, I either walk the dog or do another active task before dinner, and I make myself clean up the whole kitchen before I settle down to have dessert (yogurt or a light fudgesicle).

Now, it hasn't been working every day — one afternoon last week, the fresh blackberries I had brought for a snack turned out to have mold on one or two of them, so in a moment of insanity I got a bag of peanut M&Ms and a cereal bar from the vending machine and scarfed them down. But, for the most part, I am feeling more energetic and productive, because I am keeping myself busier with earning my next meal.

It's also helping me be more mindful of what I eat. I noticed a dramatic difference on Saturday when I had to attend two birthday parties in the same day, one in the afternoon and one that evening. Normally, parties are a recipe for nutritional disaster for me. But this time, I had a healthy breakfast that morning, then a salad for lunch and a soy-milk latte for a snack before the first party. Then, all I had was less than one bottle of Miller Lite and small piece of the birthday cake with no icing. At the second party, there was barbecue, so I had the grilled fish and veggies, a few small fried vegetarian items, a couple of beers and literally just a few sips of a vodka and Sprite.

By the end of the night I still felt energetic and not at all how I usually feel after a birthday party — bloated, stuffed and vaguely ill. When I woke up the next morning, I did have a tiny hangover, probably more from lack of sleep than anything else, but after some juice, boiled egg and fruit for breakfast, it was gone. I was so impressed with this accidental discovery that I kept talking about it to my fiancé the next day. I hope I remember this the next time a party rolls around.

Redeeming my day

2009-08-30T22:43:00.006-05:00

This afternoon, I decided to visit a more expensive grocery store than we usually go to, because we had a $10 coupon that expires today. During the car ride to the store, I was feeling proud of myself for finally remembering to take with me the earth-friendly grocery bags that have been sitting in my pantry for months. Then, right as I exited my car, I realized I had forgotten the coupon.

I weighed my options (go back home and get the coupon, shop without the coupon, or forget the grocery shopping altogether) and decided to go ahead and get a few things without the coupon. I was feeling pretty irritated with myself, because I chronically forget things like this and I don't know why.

As I walked toward the store, I saw two kids throwing bark from the store's landscaping at a passing car, a woman with Down Syndrome stopping to tie her tennis shoe, and several bags of roasted green chile peppers sitting outside on a display table covered in that crushed grocery-store ice.

Then I entered the store and saw all the lovely stacks of fresh produce and fruit. I bought some red organic tomatoes on the vine that were on sale. I took a number at the seafood counter and, when the guy punched the machine twice instead of once, causing it to skip right over my number, I waved my little #17 paper in the air and said, "You skipped number 17." With a straight face, he joked that he was just checking to see if we (the customers) were paying attention. Then he gave me the more expensive salmon at the price of the one on sale.

I wandered over to the bulk section and filled a clear plastic bin with roasted almonds so fresh they practically pop when you chew them. I filled a brown paper bag with whole coffee beans that I am looking forward to grinding and steeping in hot water in my French press tomorrow morning. I stopped suddenly mid-aisle to turn my cart around, not noticing the man behind me, who pulled back his cart to make room for me and said, "I brake for pretty girls!" (It's always nice to receive a completely unexpected compliment.)

By this time I didn't care anymore that I had forgotten the coupon. It's a privilege to be able to shop at such a nice grocery store, to be able to buy good, fresh food and bring it home. I left the store in a great mood.

As it turns out, I was able to have my cake and eat it too, because my fiancé and I stopped by the same grocery store again later this evening, on our way home from the dog park, and this time I remembered to bring the coupon.

Bon appetit

2009-08-23T18:36:00.006-05:00

I have been out of town (hence the missing blog posts from the last couple of days). However, I have been thinking about what I would write when I returned — so here it is.

Before my dog gets her breakfast, we usually take her for a walk around the block. Before she gets her dinner at night, she has to wait until my fiancé and I finish our meal. Before we actually set the bowl of food down in front of her, she has to sit or lie down or do whatever other cue we ask of her. Before she gets a treat, she has to perform a cue or a trick. You get the idea.

So, why don't I treat myself the same way? Why don't I make myself take a walk or clean the kitchen or wait until I am truly hungry to earn my grub? If I did, I would appreciate my food more, I would get more exercise, and I would reduce overeating.

The idea is not original, of course — my brother told me the very same thing recently but I dismissed it. And no doubt many other people have had this idea before he did. But now the idea has had time to percolate in my mind, and it just struck me the other day as being an especially good suggestion. So, I am going to try it.

We just returned home from our trip out of town, and when I came home I was tempted to do my usual habit — grab a snack even though I am not really hungry but rather am looking for a way to occupy myself. Instead, I decided to put a load of laundry in the washing machine and work on my blog for an hour until I am truly hungry.

Live Life to the Fullest - wikiHow

2009-08-20T17:58:00.000-05:00

Live Life to the Fullest - wikiHow

Guyana

2009-08-19T22:53:00.007-05:00

In 2007, I visited Kaieteur Falls, in Guyana, the only English-speaking country in South America. We took a tiny plane that reeked of petrol out to the rainforest, and when we stepped into view of the waterfall, it was breathtaking. There is no way this photo does it justice, but here it is:

Kaieteur is the tallest single-drop waterfall in the world, and despite the searing hot sun, the water was icy cold. As I stood there, overlooking a lush canyon and misty clouds, I breathed in deeply and thought to myself that this was probably the cleanest, most unpolluted air I had ever breathed. Here is the edge of the falls:

Beneath it (as I learned tonight while watching the Werner Herzog film White Diamond) is a massive, unexplored cave where perhaps a million white-tipped swifts live.

While I can't fly into the cave like those birds can, I did fly over the falls in the plane, and this was our view:

A Black Dog in the Winter Sun

2009-08-18T21:08:00.004-05:00

Here's a lovely excerpt from an e-mail that my brother, who is living in Australia, sent me today:

"I was walking down the CBD [Central Business District] streets this morning at 10:00 and there was a black dog stretched out in the sun on the sidewalk just chilling, completely happy & sleepy-eyed, (probably waiting for his owner in a shop,) making the pedestrians walk around him because he was in his spot in the sun & no one was gonna make him move over into the shade along the wall of the storefront. And people did walk around him."

Imagining that contented dog sprawled in the sunshine halfway across the world filled me with happiness.

Neighborhood

2009-08-17T21:30:00.005-05:00

Around 9:15 tonight, I took my dog out for a quick stroll down the street. She found a particularly interesting spot in the grass to sniff. As I stood on the sidewalk holding the red leash, I heard the sweet tinkling of a metal wind chime down the road somewhere, and from across the empty lot separating my street from the next, a woman called out — for her own dog, I imagine — "Come on, Baxter," and clapped her hands twice.

Aromatherapy for Dinner

2009-08-16T20:22:00.004-05:00

I usually don't cook. Either my fiancé cooks, we go out for dinner, or we get takeout. But this evening I poured myself a glass of red wine and got started on a Greek potato-zucchini casserole from my Weight Watchers vegetarian cookbook.

I crushed and chopped the cloves of garlic first. Then I chopped the fresh dill, and took in that distinctive aroma with a deep breath. The parsley was next — a pleasing, grassy scent — and after that the onions. Then the small potatoes, which smelled earthy, like water and dirt. I sliced the zucchini into long green strips and did the same with the bell peppers.

When I poured the can of diced tomatoes into the herb mixture, the tart scent hit my nostrils, and I bent down to sniff the combination of dill, parsley, garlic and tomato. I added salt and pepper, and the mixture went into the casserole dish along with the sliced vegetables. By this point, my glass of wine was empty.

The dish baked in the oven for an hour and a half, and then I sprinkled feta cheese on top and baked it for another quarter hour. It's now cooling on the stovetop, and will spend the night in the refrigerator waiting to be divided into portions for lunch tomorrow and the day after.

Roadkill Goes Green

2009-08-15T23:10:00.005-05:00

Nearby my house, the frontage road feeding traffic into the highway is actually more elevated than the highway itself, which means the frontage road slopes downward. This evening, my fiancé and I had just entered the frontage road in his car; he was driving. He suddenly said, "Did they just steal that tree?" I looked left through his driver's side window and saw a black pick-up truck. It had just driven off the grassy median between the frontage road and the highway and had entered the right lane of traffic — with a tree on top of it. The tree must have been close to 20 feet long. The truck of the tree wasn't very thick — maybe less than a foot — but the tree was long enough to span the length of the truck, from the hood to the back.

At first glance, we thought the tree was tied on top of the truck as cargo. We quickly realized, after seeing damage on the truck's front bumper, that the driver hadn't stolen the tree. He had hit it.

A second later, the truck veered toward the frontage road, its wheels hitting the side of the median, and the tree slid off the top of the truck and directly into our path. My fiancé braked, as the truck sped off down the highway. We manuvered around the tree and entered the right lane. We immediately saw the truck's black bumper, which had just fallen off and was rolling around in the middle of the highway. Up ahead, we could see smoke billowing from the truck as it sped out of our sight.

Getting Friendly

2009-08-14T23:49:00.003-05:00

A good friend can make a lot of not-very-exciting things fun, even staying home on a Friday night.

I was tired after work tonight, and I had an errand or two to run, so I told my fiancé to go ahead and go to the movies with his friend (they saw District 9 and loved it). I decided to stay home. As I was making my grilled cheese and tomato sandwich for dinner, a good friend of mine called, and we had a long conversation — probably around an hour — during which I nibbled on my sandwich and sipped a glass of nice red wine. Just that conversation was enough to make my evening feel enough like a Friday night that I didn't feel so bad about skipping the movie.

I remember once when I was laid off from a job, another friend of mine, whom I've known since the sixth grade, invited me over for dinner. The simple act of having me over for a home-cooked meal was enough to take the edge off of how horrible I was feeling after the layoff earlier that day.

Good friends are truly like family. Be grateful for them!

Too Pretty to Open?

2009-08-13T23:13:00.008-05:00

A well-wrapped present is a work of art.

I love giving gifts (and getting them, too, of course!) and I admire those creative, decorative, eye-pleasing wrappings you see in craft books or Martha Stewart magazines. So, with my gift to my parents for their 34th wedding anniversary, I decided to try it for myself. I enlisted my fiancé to help me cut out red felt hearts, and I strung them along shiny green ribbon that I wrapped around the gift. I think it turned out rather cute. Judge for yourself:

When we got to my parents' house, my fiancé set up the gift on their kitchen table with candles, wine and bonbons, just to be funny:

This first try was fun, and I don't care whether Martha Stewart would be impressed or not (I'm guessing not). However, I do hope to improve my awesome-gift-wrapping skills between now and the holidays. Wrapping and giving presents is actually lots more fun than receiving them.

A Kitchen Mat

2009-08-12T00:03:00.002-05:00

The reason I started this blog is to give myself a daily opportunity to ponder and appreciate the simple moments in life.

A kitchen mat is simple, wouldn't you agree?

When my dog was a puppy, she destroyed our cheerful kitchen rug. So since then, we've gone without one. But I loved the way that rug brightened up our wood and stainless steel kitchen. Here's a picture of it, before she chewed it up:

But now that she's older, and less likely to destroy another mat, I had been keeping my eye out for a new one. On Sunday, my fiancé and I walked into Crate & Barrel on a whim, and he picked out a rug that, while not quite as cheerful as the original, definitely adds some much-needed color to our kitchen. Just simply having a new rug in my kitchen gave me a bit of happiness today as I was cooking a summer vegetable stew for dinner, and it caused me to remember my goal of savoring anything in life that brings me happiness.

One thing that brings me happiness every day? My dog. Yes, even when she's chewing up household items. Here she is on the new mat:

A Pen Pal in Tasmania

2009-08-11T23:32:00.002-05:00

There's a hilarious episode of The IT Crowd in which the three main characters join a social networking site called "Friendface" and end up as social outcasts, feverishly clacking away on their computer keyboards to communicate with one another online rather than in person, even while sitting in the same room. So, yes, sometimes technology can isolate us.

However, my brother told me today during our phone call that a couple of weeks ago he posted his address on Facebook along with a plea for letters, which he meant as a sort of joke. About 10 days later, though, he was very surprised to find two letters from old high school friends in his mailbox. Now, my brother currently lives in Tasmania, so that means these old friends of his, whom he hasn't seen in years, saw his Facebook post and almost immediately wrote, stamped and mailed their letters, which then had about a 10-day journey from the U.S. to this Australian island state.

I'd call it a definite case of technology helping to alleviate isolation rather than cause it. Of course, it does take a human hand to actually write, stamp, mail and deliver those letters.

Tuna in 3D?

2009-08-10T22:27:00.008-05:00

Here's a lighter note related to my recent blog posts about filmmaker Wim Wenders and a "sense of place": Tonight my fiancé and I went out to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince at the movie theatre. One aspect I love about the Harry Potter series of films is that Hogwarts and the hidden magic city and the Weasley house are so full of character that those place are characters in the movie. Or at least they feel that way to me. I mean, can't you just feel the dust on the books and shelves when Harry and Hermoine and Ron enter any room in the school? Can't you sense the cosiness and homey atmosphere in Ron's parents' house? Can't you imagine all the streets where the students shop for wands and other magical accessories, how they might be quiet and empty at night with a few candles burning here and there, or in the morning before the shopkeepers arrive to open the stores?

At the movie theatre, we missed the earlier, regular showing of Harry Potter and thus had to pay $10 extra to see the IMAX 3D version. The ticket-seller gave us fair warning that the movie is only in 3D for the first 12 minutes. Actually, the 3D was pretty cool. Made me feel old-fashioned and hip at the same time. Here we are with our rad 3D glasses:

Before we went to the movie, my fiancé made me a delicious dinner — arugula salad with beets, orange slices, chickpeas and rare-cooked tuna steak. As my sister (who loves tuna steak) told me, I am a lucky lady!

It's My Party

2009-08-09T20:17:00.003-05:00

My fiancé and I were trying to plan my 30th birthday party this evening. We tossed around ideas include renting a beach house for the weekend with friends (would be fun, but beach houses can be expensive), doing a pub crawl around our neighborhood (would be a good excuse to explore the plethora of new bars and lounges popping up around us), and renting a cabin in the Texas hill country for a weekend (would be relaxing but many of my friends can't go out of town for a weekend due to kids, jobs, etc.).

I don't want to do the usual going-out-to-a-restaurant-with-friends or the typical throw-a-party-at-home-and-invite-people-over. This is a milestone birthday for me, and I want to celebrate it differently. The trick is figuring out what I am more likely to be in the mood for by the time my birthday rolls around — a relaxing weekend away with few or no other people with us, or a night spent roaming from one loud, crowded bar to another with lots of friends along for the fun. Perhaps there is another option we haven't thought of yet that will be a perfect middle path between the two.

More Places

2009-08-08T11:52:00.008-05:00

I'm following up on yesterday's post now that I've had some time to think a little more about how I interpreted Wim Wenders' Princeton speech. So, how does the place you grow up, or the place you choose to live, turn you into part of its story by shaping you as a person?

I believe your environment can be so important to how you feel, think, and live. It's not all-important, of course — your mental state and attitude, your health, your family and friends, and many other factors affect your life as well. But if I hadn't grown up in Houston, how would I be different? If I hadn't been an immigrant to this country with strong ties back to Europe, how would I be different? If I had moved to another city for college, how would that have changed me? If I decide to move to another state or country in the future, how will that change me?

Wim Wenders is right, in the sense that every place is an entity that exerts its influence over its inhabitants. When you watch a movie with a strong sense of place, you can see how the characters in the story are shaped and affected by the city or area in which they live. That's why I sometimes get mental chills when I think about some of the homogeneous suburban shopping areas around Houston — bland, drab strip malls that are so devoid of a sense of place that they could be anywhere in this huge city or state. And that's also why I am sometimes intimidated by the areas in Houston that are the opposite — they are so infused with a sense of place that I feel out of place sometimes; I didn't grow up in these neighborhoods, I don't know my way around, and I don't know where all the little shops and bars and restaurants are tucked away.

So, I am trying to allow myself to become part of these places. I am trying to learn my way around and try more new shops and restaurants. I am letting this neighborhood I now call home show me its story.

My Places

2009-08-07T23:59:00.013-05:00

Anyone who has lived anywhere can perhaps relate to this notion of "a sense of place" that the German filmmaker Wim Wenders discussed in this talk he gave at Princeton University. For me, two areas evoke a strong sense of place: the Houston suburb where I spent most of my childhood, and some places in Holland, where I spent many vacations visiting my grandparents and other relatives.

I don't know what kind of movie Wim Wenders might make about the modest little town in Holland where I was born, or what he might think of the neighborhood in Houston where I spent my childhood — although I plan to watch his movie Paris, Texas soon to see how he portrays the nearby town of Port Arthur. Of course, based on his talk at Princeton, he wouldn't look at those places as parts of the story of my life, the way I do. He might look at me as part of their stories.

But from my perspective, the places where I grew up are so deeply rooted in my mind that sometimes, when I think about them, I can actually feel for a moment like I am there, even when I am 5,000 miles away.

My favorite Dutch beach:

One of the more beautiful areas in my Dutch hometown:

The street outside my grandmother's apartment:

A Sign

2009-08-06T22:26:00.005-05:00

On my way home from work today, I drove through a freeway underpass to make a U-turn. Sitting on the sloped edge of the underpass, where the concrete sidewalk next to the U-turn lane begins to march upward to the underside of the freeway above, was a man. He was writing on a piece of cardboard resting on his knees.

I often see men, and sometimes women, standing at intersections holding cardboard signs asking for money or, more rarely, food. They usually include the words "God Bless" and some kind of symbol, like a cross or smiley face. Never before, however, have I seen one of those signs being created.

Not until my commute was nearly over did I think to ask myself, "I wonder what his sign said?"

Give Up

2009-08-05T23:16:00.005-05:00

My dog has learned how to open doors that swing outward. This is a big deal because previously, she only knew how to open doors that swung into the room, meaning that she could wiggle the knob with her paw and then push the door inward.

Tonight, I decided to take a bath, so I closed the bathroom door, thinking it would keep her out while I relaxed with my magazine and glass of white wine (made from organic grapes!). But, she wiggled the doorknob enough to crack open the door, and then she nosed her way in. So this means no door is impenetrable for her now, unless it's locked.

After she broke in, she began licking my elbow profusely — she likes the taste of the L'Occitane bath bubbles that I use.

It's easy to shut out those who care about you — but unlike my dog, most of them won't claw at the door until they get in. Usually, they'll give up.

Kermit the Dog

2009-08-04T22:19:00.003-05:00

Tonight, I was sitting in front of my computer struggling to write my daily blog post. My dog kept coming up next to me, pawing at me and whining for attention. She even brought her chew bone over so that I could hold it for her while she gnawed at it (yes, she's spoiled). My irritation level was rising — not with her but with the situation, which at that moment was me unable to write a decent post. I scratched my dog behind the ear and she tilted her head in a way my fiancé and I call the "Kermit face" — she looks just like Kermit the Frog when she does it. Her jowls scrunch up on one side and her mouth gets long. It's a really funny look that makes me chuckle every time.

When I saw the Kermit face, I realized there was something more important than the blog post to occupy myself with. So, I shut my laptop and focused my attention on her. Rather than forcing myself to write about a topic that obviously wasn't coming naturally to me, evidenced by how long I was sitting there thinking about the post, I decided to interrupt the cycle of irritation and enjoy myself. And look, afterward I came up with this totally spontaneous post that you're reading right now! The other one I was working on is saved in my Drafts folder. Who knows, maybe it will make its debut some other day.

Do What You Gotta Do

2009-08-03T21:26:00.005-05:00

Today I was in Petsmart after work. While I was was browsing the back aisle in a failed attempt to find the probiotics and digestive enzymes that the holistic vet recommended for my dog, a man with torn blue jeans and a white shirt approached the grooming counter asking for directions somewhere. The girl behind the counter seemed to know the area well, asking him if he'd come up from the north or south direction of a nearby street and trying to help him find his way. He explained that he'd just been hired at a new job and had taken the bus to this part of town to report for work, and now he was lost. I didn't hear the whole conversation, but she did her best to help him and then offered him $2 to pay for another bus ticket. He welcomed the offer but said, "I'm not trying to ask for money." She told him not to worry about it — "You do what you gotta do," she said.

Relaxing on Two Feet and Four Paws

2009-08-02T23:06:00.005-05:00

Tonight I took a stroll with my dog around the block. The humid, hot day had left us with a surprisingly pleasant evening, with a gentle nighttime breeze and charcoal clouds visible in the dark blue sky. The fuschia blossoms decorating the corner of the street looked much different than they do in sunlight; I missed seeing their vibrant sunlit color. But, I enjoyed the tranquility of the dark windows in the houses around me. My dog sniffed the grass, the plants, the telephone poles. We relaxed.

White Linen Night

2009-08-01T23:59:00.006-05:00

I love outdoor community festivals. I like the crush of anonymous faces around me, the live music, the spirit of communal fun. The festival I went to today, White Linen Night in The Heights, is also special because it's a good excuse to go look at art, pottery, jewelry (my fiancé bought me a beautiful pair of pink and gold earrings that I picked out at one of the shops at the festival! At only $12, I couldn't resist), antiques, and other creative or interesting items that one doesn't see during an average shopping trip. That's one thing that makes our area of town so special — it's steeped in creativity. The photo above is of my friend's very artful art car, which took part in this year's annual Art Car Parade held here each spring.

Beautiful Places

2009-07-31T20:09:00.003-05:00

Our 2005 trip to Portland, Oregon, opened our eyes to the natural beauty that exists in North America.

This image was taken on Cannon Beach at the Oregon coast. My parents, boyfriend, and I were in awe of the lovely and breathtaking setting.

What Counts

2009-07-30T20:43:00.015-05:00

Today, I considered staying at work late. I've got plenty of unanswered e-mails, overdue to-do items, and other things I could get done at the office if I stayed late. But, I decided to head home at a reasonable time. I wanted to spend time with those at home whom I love and who love me.
The first image above is actually a photo of a photo, which my sister took of my fiancé with her old-school film camera. The second image above is of my darling dog, relaxing on the couch with me today after work.

Holistic Veterinarian

2009-07-29T19:56:00.001-05:00

I'm glad there are vets out there who care enough about animals to learn natural and holistic ways to care for them, along with "conventional" vet care when needed. My pup is transitioning to a new diet that will better suit her, plus will undergo a couple of acupuncture treatments. For the new diet, which will combine high-quality pet food with fresh food that I will cook for her, the vet recommended this "Wellness" brand, and and I got a bag of treats in the same brand, as well. I love giving my pup treats. I'll have to work on that as well, though, because the holistic vet says my dog needs to lose about 4 pounds.

What Makes Me Happy

2009-07-28T20:46:00.001-05:00

My front porch, every time I look at it.

Delicious Stretches

2009-07-27T21:30:00.002-05:00

This evening, I enjoyed a 45-minute yoga class at the gym at my workplace. It feels so good to stretch my muscles, get my blood flowing, breathe deeply, relax, and listen to calming music. The first time I took a yoga class, years ago, it was an amazing experience. I felt muscles I didn't even know I had. I was more physically relaxed than I had ever been.

Words From Molly

2009-07-26T15:49:00.005-05:00

A message from the owner of Molly's Mutt House, reminding us to be grateful for those unsung riches in our lives.

Words from Molly:
Have you ever imagined life without having to let your dog out to potty or for those without a backyard a walk every time? I did, and here is what it looked like. Why rush home, there is no dog to let out. Why get out of bed immediately when you slowly start to wake up, there is no dog to let out. Why get off the couch when watching your favorite TV show, there is no dog to let out. Why stop eating in the middle of your meal, there is no dog to let out. Why get up from your computer, there is no dog to let out. If there was no dog to let out, we would be pretty lazy. I think I would gain 10lbs. Enjoy the next time you need to take your dog out. You need the exercise.

Love & Multiculturalism

2009-07-26T14:50:00.004-05:00

My fiancé, who is from Guyana, and a table laid out with delicious Dutch goodies. Photo taken Jan. 1, 2007. I'm grateful I was able to book another trip to Holland today, and that I have the opportunity to travel there. I am grateful for winters, and summers and springs and falls. I am grateful for people who are a permanent part of my life.

Coffee & Cake

2009-07-25T18:00:00.007-05:00

A slice of strawberry cheesecake from the Dessert Gallery on Kirby Drive and a cup of black, unsweetened coffee made from home-ground beans and brewed in a French press.

The cheerful yellow plate was a gift from a friend, and so was the chocolate-brown mug. The cake was the result of a Friday night dessert run with my fiancé. The fork is from Ikea.