tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32959891813028369562024-03-05T20:12:39.040-08:00Love Livre LiveSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.comBlogger284125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-46523073903460424242013-08-18T19:47:00.002-07:002013-08-18T19:56:47.347-07:00Summer Streets <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLX4SNcQEpZAFGFaMSqi9VQRSqJBolh4Lo3fx689y5Js7BWcm-GwG1nO-_FHqFDAElUcr5sO-q7SV3UIrIOCsUS0LSCUB6yqX_3pDy7g0ae4oC02QwWrx87aAbYZMZUzNaWfaOtyY6LF0/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLX4SNcQEpZAFGFaMSqi9VQRSqJBolh4Lo3fx689y5Js7BWcm-GwG1nO-_FHqFDAElUcr5sO-q7SV3UIrIOCsUS0LSCUB6yqX_3pDy7g0ae4oC02QwWrx87aAbYZMZUzNaWfaOtyY6LF0/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
I used to have a hot pink bicycle that I loved to ride around my childhood town. A gang of prepubescent outlaws, the other neighborhood kids and I would stick baseball cards in our spokes and whizz up and down quiet, tree lined streets, yelling "no hands" as we flew down gentle hills that seemed like the Colorado Rockies from our eight-year-old perspective. When I entered high school and moved elsewhere, my trusty pink bike became a pre-license form of transit that got me to friend's houses--leapt off and casually discarded in front yards with little worries of bike locks or consequence. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
One of the things that I dislike about New York City is that it is a difficult city for leisurely bike riding. When we were in Vancouver, we loved renting bikes and riding around Stanley Park--embracing the plentiful and well-designed bike lines. While friends in Brooklyn always claim that they ride bikes everywhere, up here in Manhattan, biking seems like sort of a daredevil move only to be committed by adolescents lacking the forethought and fear of death that would result in restraint from impulsive behavior like riding in bike lines often filled with trucks and illegally parked cars.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"<a href="http://www.nyc.gov/html/dot/summerstreets/html/home/home.shtml">Summer Streets"</a> occurred this Saturday in New York City. Each summer, for three Saturdays, Park Avenue is closed to cars all of the way down to Brooklyn Bridge. The streets fill with bikers, runners, and rollerbladers and, for that one day, New York City feels a little like childhood. M. and I rented bikes on Saturday for this fun summer event and rode down to--and across--the Brooklyn Bridge and then found ourselves enjoying the experience so much that we rode around Brooklyn and then back over to Manhattan via the Manhattan Bridge. From there, we followed a bike path (that we didn't even know existed) all of the way up the East River until around the forties where we crossed over to First Avenue and continued back into the Upper East Side. On our jaunt, we found a community of bike riders who were happy to share tips about where to ride, we also found ourselves in the midst of cabs on a slightly scary venture up one part of First Avenue, but, most importantly, we rediscovered our city on a bicycle. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCFSL_Y_kGgI1w_VYI1WAUoY7NqVKxTFyzPb9dQg2-6Qzyg6e6kXvJYjL1i8C1YzudAfsaT-YBI6r-lzaPRUNM95DF9dpMaQpRu5q3YD52IAwXKIF22BYb0TVfAkNilXgH-vhUKDguFU/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCFSL_Y_kGgI1w_VYI1WAUoY7NqVKxTFyzPb9dQg2-6Qzyg6e6kXvJYjL1i8C1YzudAfsaT-YBI6r-lzaPRUNM95DF9dpMaQpRu5q3YD52IAwXKIF22BYb0TVfAkNilXgH-vhUKDguFU/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitjFEX1DEKLUGfXWLgyTZwIL6OsAnE3EB_18yncTSQ6TrtPVZ27N1WqJadROHvyoOENBIk8ecbQXVPJLX5_XpGtnVhV6QsojLO1nzc48ckL2RT59ASLGCbOKx_CxZIlqzJB9TiREBEouo/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitjFEX1DEKLUGfXWLgyTZwIL6OsAnE3EB_18yncTSQ6TrtPVZ27N1WqJadROHvyoOENBIk8ecbQXVPJLX5_XpGtnVhV6QsojLO1nzc48ckL2RT59ASLGCbOKx_CxZIlqzJB9TiREBEouo/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr1aci1wXtUQ2ni5wb6kUfb1wiRGolrngPHhdLlNCZy7m94TyxLD9CoYcke5kArHMhSHaiFvqi1KiupO_1cdF0UngHH_IXjZQ6LwwdhKEqx-rxqGJHTmSdVM9VKk3ux8gUVZUq35u-gQo/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr1aci1wXtUQ2ni5wb6kUfb1wiRGolrngPHhdLlNCZy7m94TyxLD9CoYcke5kArHMhSHaiFvqi1KiupO_1cdF0UngHH_IXjZQ6LwwdhKEqx-rxqGJHTmSdVM9VKk3ux8gUVZUq35u-gQo/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
While NYC still has much progress to make in order to be a truly bike friendly city, I am no longer terrified of biking here and am even considering becoming one of those people who bikes to work. I am planning to test it this week, so I'll let you know how it goes! I am already dreaming of a grown-up version of that trusty little hot pink bike that I had so many years ago...</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-16316276309336010132013-08-16T11:06:00.000-07:002013-08-16T11:06:27.877-07:00Sisterland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibmdhdMPVeCyRizxsfPvysLD-B5rY8AcaNTADouQz6ED4ZWm0SzZEvNECelua8hd2wuhXzxn6wZ0csZtBKod85ljzyqYOdxPDAACkANDocrk2dgxlJo7rSSeLPrS00doshhWk5ckbwlf0/s1600/download+(6).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibmdhdMPVeCyRizxsfPvysLD-B5rY8AcaNTADouQz6ED4ZWm0SzZEvNECelua8hd2wuhXzxn6wZ0csZtBKod85ljzyqYOdxPDAACkANDocrk2dgxlJo7rSSeLPrS00doshhWk5ckbwlf0/s400/download+(6).jpeg" width="265" /></a></div>
Relationships with sisters can be complicated--as anyone who has sisters knows. On one hand, sisters are the greatest thing ever. I always know I can ask my sisters anything, count on them to understand the nuances of family in ways even the closest of friends might not, and there is definitely no better joke than the inside jokes emerging from a lifetime of sisterhood! On the other hand, the things that often drive us craziest about ourselves, can be those same qualities that sisters share, having been similarly nurtured. Therefore, our sisters can drive us crazy in ways that we permit ourselves to react to because, after all, they are our sister and so we have the "family trump card" that allows us to argue with them like no one else and know that they are required to still love us! At the bottom of all of the complexity and nuance, however, relationships with sisters are extremely special and something I know I value deeply.<br />
<br />
I write this preface to argue why anyone with a sister absolutely must read Curtis Sittenfeld's <i>Sisterland</i>. What I anticipated would be light summer reading was absolutely a fun beach read, but, for those with sisters, it beautifully captured a relationship that is enduring, special, and perfect, despite all of the craziness that it encompasses. A great summer read and one I absolutely recommend!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-59213913324497664272013-08-16T10:52:00.000-07:002013-08-16T10:52:30.934-07:00Summers in New England<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2N7Ne9c_Esw9tMyHk3y25nWFCt0gOwHvCSHRZqDBXZknRgG29ONTa94XK8dslJQODPqIy-FYtFmu5Y13m09S-3-wM8P5j4IAy38sg-58S2bYQz-tOf_BYwg4c69hNXculF9RCyiC_aO8/s1600/securedownload+(19).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2N7Ne9c_Esw9tMyHk3y25nWFCt0gOwHvCSHRZqDBXZknRgG29ONTa94XK8dslJQODPqIy-FYtFmu5Y13m09S-3-wM8P5j4IAy38sg-58S2bYQz-tOf_BYwg4c69hNXculF9RCyiC_aO8/s400/securedownload+(19).jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
We are back after a great couple of weeks in New England for some seaside vacationing, time with friends and family, and capped off with an amazing wedding in Provincetown, Massachusetts. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here are some of the highlights from our New England trip:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was great to see my friends from high school and catch up on life lately!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFp93vVOWGMXU5PT5G_iMetaRBsjH-3GQ6NfAFHzU5sEd2HqykifAnf0ch25i19HLDLEhPmbkOubPM52byTHPA0CN9psmOQpRYi8m6nH0qZO6Vc2Uo_egDghJ16iioDIDpB_LUawb462E/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFp93vVOWGMXU5PT5G_iMetaRBsjH-3GQ6NfAFHzU5sEd2HqykifAnf0ch25i19HLDLEhPmbkOubPM52byTHPA0CN9psmOQpRYi8m6nH0qZO6Vc2Uo_egDghJ16iioDIDpB_LUawb462E/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div>
We loved hanging out in the Mystic area, which included some wandering around Old Lyme, a Taylor Swift sighting in Mystic, and a delicious meal with M's parents at the <a href="http://danielpacker.com/wp/">Daniel Packer Inne</a>!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiQgFywESoVhkZaK900Fc-uJIp2VErCfrDp4K4uyj_9HWXWbnn9CjpUCO0m6WDhQmUdlXozBG76S5boHhZDOX3bn8CbzGgMRAaO3xILaI3NjVxEigdcw8eFB2dY8W9PvVDYhLSN6seAv0/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiQgFywESoVhkZaK900Fc-uJIp2VErCfrDp4K4uyj_9HWXWbnn9CjpUCO0m6WDhQmUdlXozBG76S5boHhZDOX3bn8CbzGgMRAaO3xILaI3NjVxEigdcw8eFB2dY8W9PvVDYhLSN6seAv0/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-35bP4jV2uGxQotOrH1gyFM7vBmbulV-tBYgiQMbUZPxrAfO9AzLB5QyiFMKaYhCb96gKUE3QB1hTScgBbxMevfY_jiIuGjDjkX0dlqz42Hj-7Mp9wKKfZ5deE_DI743tpORdzbfYRRg/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-35bP4jV2uGxQotOrH1gyFM7vBmbulV-tBYgiQMbUZPxrAfO9AzLB5QyiFMKaYhCb96gKUE3QB1hTScgBbxMevfY_jiIuGjDjkX0dlqz42Hj-7Mp9wKKfZ5deE_DI743tpORdzbfYRRg/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJ5BHtErlD_tXpnhX6GuUgr7lwuy5gf5gxCCGVyjOcXt9vyRsH-mLylQL1mpna1QGu18N-8suU9HXeQDUV-7gXf9BuGkxSnJP_aMSADbvix3DrTMNBPDcu9anSpTqjrsItt4hLvIXYd4/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJ5BHtErlD_tXpnhX6GuUgr7lwuy5gf5gxCCGVyjOcXt9vyRsH-mLylQL1mpna1QGu18N-8suU9HXeQDUV-7gXf9BuGkxSnJP_aMSADbvix3DrTMNBPDcu9anSpTqjrsItt4hLvIXYd4/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div>
We loved renting a house out on the Cape! While I love international travel, there is nothing easier than driving somewhere (we non-drivers adored the novelty of the radio!), grilling food, lounging on nearby beaches, exploring kitschy little Cape Cod towns, relishing in outdoor showers where one can look up and savor the view of trees rustling in the wind, roasting marshmallows over a fire, and seeing the stars clear and bright each night before bed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Exploring Provincetown was a blast! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj39Z9_uzT3dLMaQFxwmOx0G5201Fcskz0pLsmYO6-1FHtN7SHHc2-IKBWpyCCuqdh0cFr2xE9MS0pc3rGQa0kLzKeJvAKZCdxs-UFuHjpYhodlLTjW8N1XdN5XwYif1MtmEalNt3_1_Xw/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj39Z9_uzT3dLMaQFxwmOx0G5201Fcskz0pLsmYO6-1FHtN7SHHc2-IKBWpyCCuqdh0cFr2xE9MS0pc3rGQa0kLzKeJvAKZCdxs-UFuHjpYhodlLTjW8N1XdN5XwYif1MtmEalNt3_1_Xw/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyopSVh0bYIY3-ZsJYc0uDkJjxNOlsLdiOzkhjXJBcxCFT8ey5SptLaubEcO536onLAA_psOmXGAHz2SNCg1aGTkuUbzaTujdRNo-6-BKMjsXdSdYozozDr90uyHwbLIoH7IX_9-0_pG0/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyopSVh0bYIY3-ZsJYc0uDkJjxNOlsLdiOzkhjXJBcxCFT8ey5SptLaubEcO536onLAA_psOmXGAHz2SNCg1aGTkuUbzaTujdRNo-6-BKMjsXdSdYozozDr90uyHwbLIoH7IX_9-0_pG0/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We loved stopping for a wine tasting at <a href="http://trurovineyardsofcapecod.com/index.php">Truro Vineyards</a>, a place my sister has been raving about--with good reason--for years, our lunch view at <a href="http://www.fanizzisrestaurant.com/">Fanizzi's by the Sea</a>, our hike to Race Point Beach, and my cousin's awesome wedding at <a href="http://tentables.net/">Ten Table</a>s!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWuNR2A39fkiQVQKNciVbcwhX0DPwI6FJZUqydQmtnrS6WirzalkIPP_66Z4KVBB3Ib869LOW-zUZdBS3RXw2Xx7c3ss8Y8zxb20myM0Tq_OoIaLLKeFPN-3iGNKI0_tOP4hcU969Gr2E/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWuNR2A39fkiQVQKNciVbcwhX0DPwI6FJZUqydQmtnrS6WirzalkIPP_66Z4KVBB3Ib869LOW-zUZdBS3RXw2Xx7c3ss8Y8zxb20myM0Tq_OoIaLLKeFPN-3iGNKI0_tOP4hcU969Gr2E/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRfWBWTGfOQzYC2YVJAVecQKKT_eX_INaPwm250M8PCyQwGs3BrrZLRUaBo2CDDW8Z62dizm8vUdd7GsbPdQ1iXBpwTha-_emQ3ne3zVoUGd3EJ6HiBkmhPZiruoAZlB_DoC98Maywn4/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRfWBWTGfOQzYC2YVJAVecQKKT_eX_INaPwm250M8PCyQwGs3BrrZLRUaBo2CDDW8Z62dizm8vUdd7GsbPdQ1iXBpwTha-_emQ3ne3zVoUGd3EJ6HiBkmhPZiruoAZlB_DoC98Maywn4/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzgSWTISZ9urAC44zHgZZbLMlGk25NQBh2lmonIrdQddedmpevBgd8EeYbI9YKjEzgL0U_p84fN1nYHrpmeFQXXrcIo2m_gHuXu7WjsTBNKYhnUAGLCHmb_fuIeNU1lb3ECduUeNubmA/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzgSWTISZ9urAC44zHgZZbLMlGk25NQBh2lmonIrdQddedmpevBgd8EeYbI9YKjEzgL0U_p84fN1nYHrpmeFQXXrcIo2m_gHuXu7WjsTBNKYhnUAGLCHmb_fuIeNU1lb3ECduUeNubmA/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I loved all of the awesome details...including her adorable cocktail selection. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">My favorite was "Paint the Town Red," which was a perfect blend </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">of cava rose, fresh strawberries, </span></i><i style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">and St. Germaine! </span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp73imcdnQupM8qf6eHoAiIvXjpMDWGMhWu2J5NlENQ5Cs7skW8ulRcUE42GAg4sdisMQJTkk783IyBrEU0PI8E2x9JtuDmVR0536eK6UXEhXJlTvROGsec2K1s_y_f-OE9LjXxq9hRAg/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp73imcdnQupM8qf6eHoAiIvXjpMDWGMhWu2J5NlENQ5Cs7skW8ulRcUE42GAg4sdisMQJTkk783IyBrEU0PI8E2x9JtuDmVR0536eK6UXEhXJlTvROGsec2K1s_y_f-OE9LjXxq9hRAg/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div>
While it is good to back, nothing beats the slow pace of a New England vacation...</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-1849947262522060782013-08-01T09:30:00.000-07:002013-08-01T09:32:40.924-07:00My Hair and I Perhaps my longest and most tumultuous relationship in life has been the one I have with my hair. Yes, perhaps this admission is slightly shallow; however, for those other gals out there who have coarse, curly, thick mops, I bet that you understand my sentiment. While I have, for the most part, grown out of temper tantrums born of humid summer days or rainy day events, my hair still tends to present a meeting of the minds that guarantees a difference of opinion.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Recently, when I attended my cousin's bachelorette weekend on Nantucket, she made reference to our genetic hair curse and we all laughed recollecting the bad haircuts (especially those administered by our mothers) over the years that we struggled to tame--since all of us seemed to inherit this hair from our fathers--leaving our mothers with a sense of wonder at what to do with the foreign textures emerging from our scalps. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Because of the trauma connected to my hair, I have rarely departed from some mild variation of the same haircut since late high school when I finally developed some management techniques, which is why it came as a surprise--even to me--when I marched into the hair salon two days ago and demanded a change. My hairdresser looked at me skeptically and laughed, until she realized I was serious. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, while I had hoped that my hair would magically ignore years of cowlicks and history and manage to look like this:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQER9SvZSWnoyGhfPLM6DyuSEosmcLqrmpkxeCavxqZNMiGcARhNwkNbe6newDqn6cgNEOiaL8Nl2_ZFPqajOFAls95InwZb50Fxv2dvwKkVgleU3EIdBSrnIwyND4scarIBJHs8xEPU/s1600/reese.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQER9SvZSWnoyGhfPLM6DyuSEosmcLqrmpkxeCavxqZNMiGcARhNwkNbe6newDqn6cgNEOiaL8Nl2_ZFPqajOFAls95InwZb50Fxv2dvwKkVgleU3EIdBSrnIwyND4scarIBJHs8xEPU/s400/reese.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div>
Instead, it followed its predictable pattern and looked more like this:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6ZOv8CqyRqjUuLT6fRmEQmcpbPxYiTSRtRmHrErw2pHymSP2qn7wnInWezwPGQ3TAqlIvp70csKSZ3ubCbq6BJWvjKq3mDDrpNlRFTs2xFnNJqAi7WYCwXekx37VOjTADXEAkiG8-fQ/s1600/fraggle1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6ZOv8CqyRqjUuLT6fRmEQmcpbPxYiTSRtRmHrErw2pHymSP2qn7wnInWezwPGQ3TAqlIvp70csKSZ3ubCbq6BJWvjKq3mDDrpNlRFTs2xFnNJqAi7WYCwXekx37VOjTADXEAkiG8-fQ/s400/fraggle1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
When I talked to my friend that night (who I totally blame for my bad haircut, as I usually consult with her in all stages of the haircare process and she was, you know, busy having a baby or something!), she begged for a picture so that she could have a good laugh. At least, on the bright side, my hair grows fast, so, hopefully, by the time I go back to work my <b><u>fringe bangs </u></b>will be long enough that the kids do not begin calling me Ms. Muppet. In the meantime, I look like I am wearing a bad wig or I am emulating one of The Beatles, but at least, as my friend pointed out, now I know for sure that fringe bangs are not a good look... </div>
<div>
</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-31669711556925103662013-07-29T22:36:00.002-07:002013-07-29T22:39:10.425-07:00Wedding Bells...<div>
Ha! For those of you who know me, I'll bet that title got your attention! Sorry to disappoint, but I am not referring to my own wedding. However, I did ATTEND a lovely wedding this weekend that, should I ever decide to walk down the aisle, I may just have to adoringly mimic some parts of as though I were an annoying younger sibling... :)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
This weekend was a lovely medley of all things I adore in a weekend. Friday, I stayed in, tired from traveling, and consumed cup after cup of mint tea while reading a book my sister recommended: <i>The Language of Flowers</i> by Vanessa Diffenbough. It was a novel akin to the "blackout cupcake" from Crumbs; delicious and sweet, but not the kind of thing off of which you want to subsist. That said, it was a perfect read for my purposes. Saturday, I woke up early and freaked out upon realizing that we had a wedding to attend that night and I had nothing to wear. After some galavanting around multiple NYC neighborhoods, I found a dress and then raced home to get ready.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVdQ8Ga0wk5kG9IYFl1Mo5lzo4y5Y73eLkV9kIV2Vv-rdGii0GKHR5N3VVTudCnj4uW4hpD2rEee8fQSTd1eoK9WTai4aN8iG3w64tkbRGN6mFcWrbzrW8fMBEM06Mwn6ILYYiG9_q3w/s1600/images+(20).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVdQ8Ga0wk5kG9IYFl1Mo5lzo4y5Y73eLkV9kIV2Vv-rdGii0GKHR5N3VVTudCnj4uW4hpD2rEee8fQSTd1eoK9WTai4aN8iG3w64tkbRGN6mFcWrbzrW8fMBEM06Mwn6ILYYiG9_q3w/s400/images+(20).jpeg" width="258" /></a></div>
<div>
The wedding was everything that I love in a wedding. I have been to (and been in!) a lot of weddings. Weddings are always a good time and a wonderful opportunity to see the people you love, no matter the spectacle of the wedding itself, but over the years I have definitely developed an affinity for a certain type of wedding. The weddings I have attended have run the gamut--and when I say this I am not exaggerating--not even a little. I have been to budget weddings and weddings that have cost more than most homes, huge weddings where the bride and groom didn't even know everyone to small weddings where I knew every single person's life story, weddings with historical themes held in historical settings to hipster weddings that have attempted to depart from even a hint of a theme. While I remember all of these weddings (and have loved them for the people for whom the occasion celebrated) there are definitely some aspects of each of these weddings that I remember as clearly as the people I love--and this has led me to the conclusion that the personal touches at weddings are always what I remember. From an ice cream truck that one of my friends served ice cream in her wedding gown from at the end of the night, to another friend who had a mariachi band during cocktail hour, to a friend who gave out CDs (yeah, I'm old) as favors with songs that were special to the bride and groom, to another friend who transported her bridal party in a trolley, I love those parts of weddings where--even if it is something quite simple--embody the essence of the couple--and the wedding this weekend was beautiful because it was filled with tons of lovely personal touches. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQy27DDS4mmop2duNS-6NFMnTdPnd05e5bdKkcWZ6zs7YOsaKOtSzy7hcYiTraebXnTb_x4ddA2BAEbse414UeGdXIC7L9osTUW1JWCns_1UC1uX5EtILb7GEkx1-GNhwcdZzbaDA9r4/s1600/19000_646762525335545_704566698_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQy27DDS4mmop2duNS-6NFMnTdPnd05e5bdKkcWZ6zs7YOsaKOtSzy7hcYiTraebXnTb_x4ddA2BAEbse414UeGdXIC7L9osTUW1JWCns_1UC1uX5EtILb7GEkx1-GNhwcdZzbaDA9r4/s400/19000_646762525335545_704566698_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Not our best picture, in fact, quite possibly one of our worst, </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>but M's exuberance cracks me up...</i></div>
<div>
The ceremony was held under the Brooklyn Bridge, in Brooklyn Bridge Park, and had all of the idiosyncrasies of a classic New York City wedding. The D train kept loudly clacking by (even though the D train never seems to run on schedule!) and so the audience was in and out of hearing the performance of the ceremony--yet, despite this, both the bride and groom laughed about the train and teared as they spoke to each other. Adorable. In the heat of the summer, the groom insisted that his groomsmen (and wedding attendees) be comfortable and the bride insisted that the bridemaids not spend a ton of money on something that, let's face it, we all know nobody ever wears again! She coordinated their outfits and had them wear beautiful, long chartreuse skirts and simple white tank tops topped off by unifying and coordinated J Crew necklaces. It was simple and lovely. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxjnsMt42OG1OOPHyNFTFNBkz-G8EZcqcT2cOWf_3x9m9my83uno3_vi-Fu1eE2A4A5w2Cd-q6lernCefMTIoFcSKER7ULGjpwSReMZ_wyqEwiI9W1MMDml49lQ00aAk4IoeyZNOShoM/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxjnsMt42OG1OOPHyNFTFNBkz-G8EZcqcT2cOWf_3x9m9my83uno3_vi-Fu1eE2A4A5w2Cd-q6lernCefMTIoFcSKER7ULGjpwSReMZ_wyqEwiI9W1MMDml49lQ00aAk4IoeyZNOShoM/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
After the ceremony, all of the guests walked over to Dumbo Loft where there was dinner (served from their favorite food carts!) and great music and dancing. The evening was filled with touching speeches by a variety of people and every song performed by the band was hand selected. This made for a Beastie Boys dance-off at one point that, while not your classic wedding serenade, was perfect for a group of man-boys who knew every word and, despite some pretty scary dance skills, were inspired to move by the music. Like the musical playlists, the bride and groom had done a lot of the decor themselves and there were tons of personal touches--for instance, they met when the groom taught the bride to ride a bike and therefore, bikes dominated their aesthetic. It was an absolutely lovely wedding--and made for a great way to spend a Saturday night!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDx9NFNsq6OvTl0_oQYJd07D6g_ZYa80YpzyxDatfv3JBqdP8BJyqp2QiweuILxMVDBckx6L-DPIu1nO78HGIwTAGY8UuSKjvM1uC-_mxuItDyu3GFL1J_H4PWMIQRB4jAiT9JHF25TrY/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDx9NFNsq6OvTl0_oQYJd07D6g_ZYa80YpzyxDatfv3JBqdP8BJyqp2QiweuILxMVDBckx6L-DPIu1nO78HGIwTAGY8UuSKjvM1uC-_mxuItDyu3GFL1J_H4PWMIQRB4jAiT9JHF25TrY/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8f-krWMMImFc353Sit8UX2fwnxtNu-ZpbO-kaIoYQwM-yTsRdGpK5bgCvVJ4IUEAppW3fmCF_OrLUzOv2PctLbk4nftdsF_mofk9E-L6x8mvCuXby7goTk2nuJDE1EfejNcSX-mCQYgM/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8f-krWMMImFc353Sit8UX2fwnxtNu-ZpbO-kaIoYQwM-yTsRdGpK5bgCvVJ4IUEAppW3fmCF_OrLUzOv2PctLbk4nftdsF_mofk9E-L6x8mvCuXby7goTk2nuJDE1EfejNcSX-mCQYgM/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp4wtb_g8fhnJxcon9Bbym2QsX3BTrwvk3kcrE4aBnOYq4_SRY5GlFGMrqhO-ddew4Y4iYz8QrhkLReCtKTBVMsN6QHOQ7OdyzxfhK62EcKCYW2nOIW7V66IDiy8tmqPkaPebzrrYgvzA/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp4wtb_g8fhnJxcon9Bbym2QsX3BTrwvk3kcrE4aBnOYq4_SRY5GlFGMrqhO-ddew4Y4iYz8QrhkLReCtKTBVMsN6QHOQ7OdyzxfhK62EcKCYW2nOIW7V66IDiy8tmqPkaPebzrrYgvzA/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On Sunday (my newly showing!) friend came in from Connecticut for catching up, manicures and pedicures, and some yummy brunch, and it was the perfect way to end a great weekend. Between the weather and the company, I am one happy girl!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Today, after doing some work and some exercise, both of which that needed to be done, M and I hopped on our favorite NYC mode of transportation and headed to Brooklyn for dinner. A drink in a our hand and some yummy seafood in front of us, we sat in the large outdoor space of The Lobster Joint and soaked in the sun, the wine, and the clams. Not bad, not bad at all.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxSF1L-hOBdL5bgffiDDUsnS0j6BN4PomE30wipYXDVQqnJo_p_uZ2WCk3B9ZLXaJGPXe78E9KMQt6kg2V4eqbLkoWrJaG66pZIW95vPSR_24zLXsthGzLTg2bjv4BN1baBvl_g22A6A/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxSF1L-hOBdL5bgffiDDUsnS0j6BN4PomE30wipYXDVQqnJo_p_uZ2WCk3B9ZLXaJGPXe78E9KMQt6kg2V4eqbLkoWrJaG66pZIW95vPSR_24zLXsthGzLTg2bjv4BN1baBvl_g22A6A/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I heart Greenpoint--every corner makes me want to pose </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>and pretend I am on an album cover.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj7ETMGZGrsx0AlXLLRrH5YMN7e2JHMsE77IhcMT2UwaMkAiFXediO17a2KzL0rsAm8EzzJ7r3m3-N8Zz7plH6_p8RfNRh7EQBurLrPZNJyahl8nsrOv6bO9ZS53O9oSg1kcuFLcOEMvc/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj7ETMGZGrsx0AlXLLRrH5YMN7e2JHMsE77IhcMT2UwaMkAiFXediO17a2KzL0rsAm8EzzJ7r3m3-N8Zz7plH6_p8RfNRh7EQBurLrPZNJyahl8nsrOv6bO9ZS53O9oSg1kcuFLcOEMvc/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>It's always a guaranteed amazing view from the ferry!</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9btwikky63VnSU0wV8VfCbdZeYwZFcwI-22jDnF3UDv56C47YGoTuxso_sujmaFVhnaYcSbsycFRA4PUf8NM-kIcig3EA6Ocr-oedcEidHiKXJh8_2oqYGbG6r_pEiqCEfyIwH1kUyic/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9btwikky63VnSU0wV8VfCbdZeYwZFcwI-22jDnF3UDv56C47YGoTuxso_sujmaFVhnaYcSbsycFRA4PUf8NM-kIcig3EA6Ocr-oedcEidHiKXJh8_2oqYGbG6r_pEiqCEfyIwH1kUyic/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-83630679479253350212013-07-26T12:50:00.000-07:002013-07-26T16:14:01.330-07:00Travel Tales <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzwcS7hOLAb-Lvt7vB3etHxvz4WkRilIPfZ07v_A4tsBOQFJLHdNVHdYuLfwazRqp3CPtG7gE3XZj_i517FOw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Learning to Canter--sort of...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">While my horseback riding fantasies were fulfilled, M. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">was kind of nervous on his stubborn horse (who kept biting his feet, stopping to consume </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">large quantities of grass, and snapping at my horse when she tried to pass him) </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">and preferred to sit back and film! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
Well, I am back from a little traveling. While it is always nice to return home to the comfort of your own bed, I do love traveling and can never quite seem to get it out of my system. This trip was a short, essentially three country jaunt, with just brief glimpses into three very different places. The itinerary began in the borderlands of Guatemala and Belize, followed by some time in the islands of Belize, and ending with a trip up the Yucatan Peninsula through Mexico. It had all parts adventure and relaxation that my kind of travel requires and was an awesome trip.<br />
<br />
Purchasing extremely last minute tickets, M. joined me and he has never been to the countryside of Central America before; the contrast of poverty and wealth is always somewhat overwhelming and eye opening when one first experiences it. After arriving in Belize City, we immediately headed west towards Guatemala. This portion of our trip included a death defying car ride (that we definitely could have skipped but provided lots of fodder for laughter retrospectively!), eating lots of plantains, rice and beans, taking in the sights of a world far different from our own and visiting with people, hearing stories that both change one's worldview while confirming the similarity of people everywhere, consuming much delicious coffee, crossing a wide river on a hand cranked ferry, eating a local meal in the middle of the jungle with a parrot as our table companion, watching monkeys swing from branch to branch above us, an amazing eight mile horseback ride through the jungle, and a majestic hike up to the sacred Mayan site of Xunantunich where we were nearly the only visitors and had the place pretty much to ourselves.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncI-30hWtev7UtoZy0Gq-wyRNAZVf5YPGn9vh32Ws_GdTpzeTPQv5Avyh1P4_MrwxmMsQOH8jo-uTE19XcNvp_uXNFQp44KBMIJrAXwaGVFrqYBH_y6_yznzTsh7QgQP3Wo8Qf4A1maU/s1600/horses+in+belize.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncI-30hWtev7UtoZy0Gq-wyRNAZVf5YPGn9vh32Ws_GdTpzeTPQv5Avyh1P4_MrwxmMsQOH8jo-uTE19XcNvp_uXNFQp44KBMIJrAXwaGVFrqYBH_y6_yznzTsh7QgQP3Wo8Qf4A1maU/s400/horses+in+belize.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHikxqKBmU0e-YsSM4e6LPOq_nzoFevXMIBoXQjBxk_BfPxjErUoIRrgfbaNhc8MlY-PI6JRkmzlfgUvxrOMJaBm3QyxlQIE4DqfIb7THwm5jEuUw2Moa6F7iBTOQV_8Nt7Wrp5YqKXbU/s1600/me+at+xunantunich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHikxqKBmU0e-YsSM4e6LPOq_nzoFevXMIBoXQjBxk_BfPxjErUoIRrgfbaNhc8MlY-PI6JRkmzlfgUvxrOMJaBm3QyxlQIE4DqfIb7THwm5jEuUw2Moa6F7iBTOQV_8Nt7Wrp5YqKXbU/s400/me+at+xunantunich.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3yI0AaMFK5hImxnA6mOvRGcxw6s4FYcdzGmgmgMPWLi8hlOFOAFdIxXulOtWr_DH458PbB_SczD0wy6KNzOIiH8gWajrGFy6k7-m0SNo1AZZP7pOFYo5CegnE2PSTeem-3gPvyJUe0Yo/s1600/me+at+xunantunich+at+the+bottom+of+the+temple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3yI0AaMFK5hImxnA6mOvRGcxw6s4FYcdzGmgmgMPWLi8hlOFOAFdIxXulOtWr_DH458PbB_SczD0wy6KNzOIiH8gWajrGFy6k7-m0SNo1AZZP7pOFYo5CegnE2PSTeem-3gPvyJUe0Yo/s400/me+at+xunantunich+at+the+bottom+of+the+temple.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsm22mt7QwVf1C6gsaYMuATbtuOHB1oJ86-z_gnASj2s2_Wij7vvj1XDzx31JEzGfhaQvfXxBAM7JnWAwGkKCllFpFAc8z5IOBlJzr8yL9sFzAJClO_CzijI9aEPdOiSo6gtpR9vjGiA/s1600/me+looking+off+at+god+knows+what+mick+smiling+xunantiucnih.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsm22mt7QwVf1C6gsaYMuATbtuOHB1oJ86-z_gnASj2s2_Wij7vvj1XDzx31JEzGfhaQvfXxBAM7JnWAwGkKCllFpFAc8z5IOBlJzr8yL9sFzAJClO_CzijI9aEPdOiSo6gtpR9vjGiA/s400/me+looking+off+at+god+knows+what+mick+smiling+xunantiucnih.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVpDVlqXchbniJjFaTVq4nu7NDqh1CrUpHve6_7He6rXaHg-3gHDZtcQXmFOPHmkq9IYEHQzXDSW8pvMg1ZfZL1dlYEgbPJjamdCafk_EHTDVhC0o8Sd08yKIqHSfOikYevEewnvDnvE/s1600/me+on+horse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVpDVlqXchbniJjFaTVq4nu7NDqh1CrUpHve6_7He6rXaHg-3gHDZtcQXmFOPHmkq9IYEHQzXDSW8pvMg1ZfZL1dlYEgbPJjamdCafk_EHTDVhC0o8Sd08yKIqHSfOikYevEewnvDnvE/s400/me+on+horse.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKy3CRjhXMWWdq6D5yGJKxXemc-2Zwzcqen5Tuk-r1I8JdMEekfokjSajzoU8LC7T2ymi25X7FadIt1Yr5-s3X26CfUix20-9Ztxey4IoW4F11vG1PcivwBPoKmbLd5X0ZcEzmRbIqM5g/s1600/mick+and+i+at+xunantunich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKy3CRjhXMWWdq6D5yGJKxXemc-2Zwzcqen5Tuk-r1I8JdMEekfokjSajzoU8LC7T2ymi25X7FadIt1Yr5-s3X26CfUix20-9Ztxey4IoW4F11vG1PcivwBPoKmbLd5X0ZcEzmRbIqM5g/s400/mick+and+i+at+xunantunich.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1-Yo3sQiJnU6PScnMnce3-D7OD84A5Woq4q2SGCoE1CRAXzKxJm_3j_2bbHK_GY3j1WevnMZPNijoE_V9HAXpHhJZIp7md0PKZbhoWC9_zfr-U3j9SnG346TSDfsoxykVQtWWVIvOx_M/s1600/view+from+aboce+at+xunantunich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1-Yo3sQiJnU6PScnMnce3-D7OD84A5Woq4q2SGCoE1CRAXzKxJm_3j_2bbHK_GY3j1WevnMZPNijoE_V9HAXpHhJZIp7md0PKZbhoWC9_zfr-U3j9SnG346TSDfsoxykVQtWWVIvOx_M/s400/view+from+aboce+at+xunantunich.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
From here, we crossed the entire country of Belize to the coastline and jumped on a boat to get to Ambergris Caye. On the Caye, we biked, relaxed on the beach, drank a lot of ice cold Belikans (the beer of Belize), jumped off docks to swim and observe the famous reefs of the Caye, and enjoyed a wide variety of delicious meals. It was extremely relaxing and the perfect way to counter the hiking and horseback riding of the earlier part of the week.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYn9EbA456okxIw5q6-sq2GjDk8LVh8QyapOpFBFx26Vw0TJ6ixDKhKHKyI_uN58qJrn92BSR_i5AWTb0hSfU2MUnx2NzJwpZg9O-GG7kbFsrP79Eaabq84JI1_FNoDIXFDKbicFMXnas/s1600/me+in+belize.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYn9EbA456okxIw5q6-sq2GjDk8LVh8QyapOpFBFx26Vw0TJ6ixDKhKHKyI_uN58qJrn92BSR_i5AWTb0hSfU2MUnx2NzJwpZg9O-GG7kbFsrP79Eaabq84JI1_FNoDIXFDKbicFMXnas/s400/me+in+belize.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hEkKFwn5MiG735oivKBTjhSYbjL7sfZ6-AOkwCAYRWX2Pf4vNpib4XyINAP0HuXZB3Lcp61uyWv6Yiwil8pxGixfDtug7fB6M-nH4T3cVKivNNPWvdy9oVS4kMFkLZp1TceDFHCRRws/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hEkKFwn5MiG735oivKBTjhSYbjL7sfZ6-AOkwCAYRWX2Pf4vNpib4XyINAP0HuXZB3Lcp61uyWv6Yiwil8pxGixfDtug7fB6M-nH4T3cVKivNNPWvdy9oVS4kMFkLZp1TceDFHCRRws/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
While Belize was highly relaxing, we knew we wanted to be complete beach bums for the end of our trip and so, from here, we crossed the border via a water taxi (that I would incidentally never recommend to anyone else ever--I actually have bruises on my right arm from the incredibly bumpy ride that ended with machine gun laden Mexican police and their trained dogs sniffing our luggage--little stressful...) to Chetumal where we made our way up the coastline to spend a few days in Tulum, Mexico. Tulum was probably our favorite place and both of us agreed that we would definitely go back. It was an incredibly easy place to travel and was so relaxing. We spent our days under palapas in lounge chairs reading, ordering fresh guacamole and mojitos, and stirring only to swim in sparkling turquoise waters--not bad. At night we would venture out to eat and stroll on a moonlit beach. I am already thinking about returning in the cold stretch of northeastern winters to go to a yoga retreat! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7tsmsU8QFFSbya1Ocewd75WqbETkBfmTHwJ6F6l2rOgsRKpJrVaqKA-HYeCaVjXqyn0Xyu7mA8ORtGmaW_9_29EbBb2gk5ID-uzDGYJbrVY_N3qUh-pD_hJHrQGaAKcZbjnF1usgqoqk/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7tsmsU8QFFSbya1Ocewd75WqbETkBfmTHwJ6F6l2rOgsRKpJrVaqKA-HYeCaVjXqyn0Xyu7mA8ORtGmaW_9_29EbBb2gk5ID-uzDGYJbrVY_N3qUh-pD_hJHrQGaAKcZbjnF1usgqoqk/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4qgjrtTIqN9TFM2oSSm42m30O6O_mhUQA61epYO0CcTFfSSGRNrdOAPYm-8anJe32JSRUDN0mvnMMD3D8JitTgdd5fi_fGviElz_0nRcO9fV-fZRr4nZuLrC_RlmPHebGxlKnRPk2hg/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4qgjrtTIqN9TFM2oSSm42m30O6O_mhUQA61epYO0CcTFfSSGRNrdOAPYm-8anJe32JSRUDN0mvnMMD3D8JitTgdd5fi_fGviElz_0nRcO9fV-fZRr4nZuLrC_RlmPHebGxlKnRPk2hg/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
From here, we made our way to our last stop in Mexico--Playa del Carmen. Perhaps because we fell so in love with Tulum, Playa was fun, but had we planned differently we might have skipped it. Life in Playa was analogous to my conception of life in Miami. Living in New York City, where we travel to get away from busy, appearance-conscious living, and have the constant opportunity to eat at glitzy restaurants, it was just not exactly what we were looking for, but, nevertheless, I can't say we didn't enjoy lounging on the white sand beaches and swimming in the crystal clear waters!</div>
<br />
We returned via Cancun, with this little Dia de Muertos trinket to serve as a lovely little reminder of a wonderful little summer trip.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq_EUtjXa-aYfUvXhv-gxa4pG4nwwCm8cS-WBmm0DrGM0dTVb7onMyCYsskrXXtK-GqNhE7cT4DmZiIanArlQRdWvPj5c8h137fh9b2zHNJZYAKz3GuBU0Ie2klLyKdv20WKSTRHQbMlA/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq_EUtjXa-aYfUvXhv-gxa4pG4nwwCm8cS-WBmm0DrGM0dTVb7onMyCYsskrXXtK-GqNhE7cT4DmZiIanArlQRdWvPj5c8h137fh9b2zHNJZYAKz3GuBU0Ie2klLyKdv20WKSTRHQbMlA/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
And, most exciting about the whole trip was the news that my lovely friend delivered a healthy, happy (nearly ten pound!!!!) baby on my birthday! So excited to share this day with the little one of someone so special to me.<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-5665453597476918722013-07-15T10:32:00.001-07:002013-07-15T10:34:24.671-07:00A Taste of Paris in NYCEver since I read <a href="http://ohhappyday.com/2011/07/vive-la-france/">this blog entry</a> about a lovely Bastille Day picnic in France, I have been obsessed with celebrating France's Independence Day.<br />
<br />
Yesterday was Bastille Day and, in New York City, Bastille Day calls for a big celebration complete with closed-off streets, music, French food, and other festivities. Though I would have loved to be in Paris wearing all white and celebrating with a picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower, <a href="http://www.bastilledayny.com/">the celebration at 60th street</a> was the next best thing. And I did wear white to commemorate!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFE-KO_Qiac53JHtyDzNuSgz6iqDre8ue1HiMuxo9-eTLBrbmgG20IvwCSPXmBlCEnIHV7M6Bgj0mOeSaf6oyOhgScUcUIK0-ZJWAHGLHlOt-zWA6-VkzGQcnTTqx7wAbD30LoMkotjKk/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFE-KO_Qiac53JHtyDzNuSgz6iqDre8ue1HiMuxo9-eTLBrbmgG20IvwCSPXmBlCEnIHV7M6Bgj0mOeSaf6oyOhgScUcUIK0-ZJWAHGLHlOt-zWA6-VkzGQcnTTqx7wAbD30LoMkotjKk/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I picked up this fun little dress on sale at Zara. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I am in love with the back of the dress--perfect to beat the summer heat! </span></i></div>
<br />
After walking down to the fete in all-consuming heat, we were happy to arrive at a (crowded) land filled with red, white, and blue, and macaroons, eclairs, wine, and music...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM4O672015q2t3HAnzKU73iQeTXiQuPc_YQeyVU4y8ZmdeCTZTtw-vRX_sDLYuzyKXRatNeczKpy2dyO-bzrqnQnRLuaoHxEkVsQOK-o-ZVFHKAgCBOXIlGH-6U1lhXgomePQ3MuEuP6s/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM4O672015q2t3HAnzKU73iQeTXiQuPc_YQeyVU4y8ZmdeCTZTtw-vRX_sDLYuzyKXRatNeczKpy2dyO-bzrqnQnRLuaoHxEkVsQOK-o-ZVFHKAgCBOXIlGH-6U1lhXgomePQ3MuEuP6s/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgBpTXb2jVKZitUW9sLlB37zO0EqkwEMJMKZDSOaabmMQl35X4K6gIk-JKj1RGv82wlRZSk1JmHFhjw7C21c85KGryVSdOeoyV9nToY86augwOHKxhes7guP3Cq50VO_gDq_U6Lh1QfOg/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgBpTXb2jVKZitUW9sLlB37zO0EqkwEMJMKZDSOaabmMQl35X4K6gIk-JKj1RGv82wlRZSk1JmHFhjw7C21c85KGryVSdOeoyV9nToY86augwOHKxhes7guP3Cq50VO_gDq_U6Lh1QfOg/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvXul7kXkcBdSAR3tkfEm_TI0kN7_68_2oswn9VSuu-6rkyRKG_5Oa_y7a5CUDk9yN2za6EC95HDa4syhly9uxDaoBNAZbEDBigQT-EgQ4E6rJ0kTKpzBI34V9BfiSg3xdr1xnfuTfqg/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvXul7kXkcBdSAR3tkfEm_TI0kN7_68_2oswn9VSuu-6rkyRKG_5Oa_y7a5CUDk9yN2za6EC95HDa4syhly9uxDaoBNAZbEDBigQT-EgQ4E6rJ0kTKpzBI34V9BfiSg3xdr1xnfuTfqg/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgL6V_9n8eN0u3URYvOympsgyo3pRHGzC6Ix1RdQowKdJ6I1-HM5y2fPvxnyVYou7Pe-Z0poTgvXFALljOnANGlJ1_A5HUFF7cOyz_b2d3fiZZE-MdZDzely_TXhjW49rxWBDnd0nPMgo/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgL6V_9n8eN0u3URYvOympsgyo3pRHGzC6Ix1RdQowKdJ6I1-HM5y2fPvxnyVYou7Pe-Z0poTgvXFALljOnANGlJ1_A5HUFF7cOyz_b2d3fiZZE-MdZDzely_TXhjW49rxWBDnd0nPMgo/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
It was a lovely New York City summer day--even though I felt like my body was melting into the pavement in a sweaty puddle. Sigh...summer-in-the-city trade-offs.<br />
<br />
To counter the heat of yesterday, I tried to head to the <a href="http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1380">Rain Room exhibit at MOMA</a> this morning, but I refuse to wait in an eight hour line in 98 degree weather to see a ten minute exhibit. I may have to just become a MOMA member and then try again on a Tuesday or Wednesday when I heard the wait time hovers around a speedy four hours....Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-47848625327641485902013-07-13T09:43:00.000-07:002013-07-13T10:59:35.321-07:00Life LatelyWell, it's been a long time since I've written...<br />
<br />
Months, in fact. Since it is summer and I am not quite as busy with work and classes I should have more time to update the old blog.<br />
<br />
It was a busy end to the school year. I took my last graduate school class in the first summer session, so the end-of-the-year insanity of meetings, grade submissions, and concluding units coincided with a difficult, but amazing, graduate school class. I can't believe I am done with coursework--and that I am such a nerd that I already miss it.<br />
<br />
Since I last wrote, a lot of wonderful things have happened: perhaps my favorite being that it is now okay to openly share that my lovely and dear lifelong friend is pregnant and will have her baby boy some time in the next week or two. We had a baby shower for her in Boston and it was so wonderful to see her gorgeous pregnant self and all of my friends from high school. We are all in such incredibly different places in our lives and yet there is something so amazing about long term friendship where that doesn't matter when you are all together.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxrY81bEpyML9qFChFthWphPSu2hrUm8g9FbL2OjD7FYzFdnMCnomw-y-stz3PAt0HEG92JH7EIBCAY2eCFJJdHxbaEOqgnwE2niezdsW9gULrIVkbM_3gyNhoZKzh1tkrLsXlTBSesU/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxrY81bEpyML9qFChFthWphPSu2hrUm8g9FbL2OjD7FYzFdnMCnomw-y-stz3PAt0HEG92JH7EIBCAY2eCFJJdHxbaEOqgnwE2niezdsW9gULrIVkbM_3gyNhoZKzh1tkrLsXlTBSesU/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
I went to an inspiring conference on social justice education-- and presented my own research at a conference at Columbia, which was scary, but exciting.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqLaX4ejrDVQEKG_NCjKpcL8U6HhqL2QA9mXh8uQFNJep9sPv1titL_NOzzQV8K9_tP2HQW6tlSrkyH86zNr6lW9mOJX5hzISQvbjJy8g4yZkP9ADEbMDj-D62nSk_yoIwJ3H2vb4Pkc/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqLaX4ejrDVQEKG_NCjKpcL8U6HhqL2QA9mXh8uQFNJep9sPv1titL_NOzzQV8K9_tP2HQW6tlSrkyH86zNr6lW9mOJX5hzISQvbjJy8g4yZkP9ADEbMDj-D62nSk_yoIwJ3H2vb4Pkc/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
Spring in New York City reared its head after a long, arduous winter, which resulted in many outings on the ferry, taste testings at Smorgasburg, wandering around Brooklyn Zinefest, cocktails on the Met Rooftop Garden, and a much appreciated increase in al fresco dining around NYC...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCt17LYMgP9WT2QId7chf1qTeg7eiekyiBssDY_wKsjm7h9pcJV7vMa0d7ZIzGLj3gHUZ0i4whmuTng74te9-lDGCdOW6QPNPWS7rjSNVkzevl3kuBPRahq7JKvHQKgPELPEr5OHf2PCw/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCt17LYMgP9WT2QId7chf1qTeg7eiekyiBssDY_wKsjm7h9pcJV7vMa0d7ZIzGLj3gHUZ0i4whmuTng74te9-lDGCdOW6QPNPWS7rjSNVkzevl3kuBPRahq7JKvHQKgPELPEr5OHf2PCw/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrK3vQbMg7DFN5M3bdw6Xwsna7hpfZM66KdULpe2rIIYtirATbnzoLXe9Jv2cQLKMMY1XFCTwRZ8tpBobdgNRbwmL-QyRvljVvzs1Yq5M2PNkgRqIAj9uy6P7Kxhn_3GREx9VBdh3wXc/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrK3vQbMg7DFN5M3bdw6Xwsna7hpfZM66KdULpe2rIIYtirATbnzoLXe9Jv2cQLKMMY1XFCTwRZ8tpBobdgNRbwmL-QyRvljVvzs1Yq5M2PNkgRqIAj9uy6P7Kxhn_3GREx9VBdh3wXc/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bXJAL5Br21RmcISBs9eYcxbb5EhwtE5dxlFm1UG2Zvm8rp8De429RBLcsXonQWvJg3n0IUfuC_JTfjj4w7HjXo_MqWYv1osNkCzJSk-QhSIv_2lmy900vOFoluKgtFzA3kRvAdI9Zfk/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bXJAL5Br21RmcISBs9eYcxbb5EhwtE5dxlFm1UG2Zvm8rp8De429RBLcsXonQWvJg3n0IUfuC_JTfjj4w7HjXo_MqWYv1osNkCzJSk-QhSIv_2lmy900vOFoluKgtFzA3kRvAdI9Zfk/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
Spring also resulted in my engagement in an activity in which I never partake: Cooking! My favorite summer traveling partners and I all got together to use the skills gained from our Thai cooking class in Chiang Mai--not to mention the opportunity to reminisce about all of our travels. Shortly after, my lovely friend J. shared with us that she is pregnant and, what seemed like moments after this exciting news, another one of my favorite people called and asked, "Will you be my bridesmaid this February?!"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSRm3GwKpV2dbKpnFFe2xqpABQp-YutmUkL4z902Izn07EhBXqDKEJ1GSVshnrpGYisCYWAGWP0Rf2YOXMw_FAyu13je2mAFfCikZzbiBL6P5JeqUlvtr7IbdEWpV_XhYKiFhBGdPV4bM/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSRm3GwKpV2dbKpnFFe2xqpABQp-YutmUkL4z902Izn07EhBXqDKEJ1GSVshnrpGYisCYWAGWP0Rf2YOXMw_FAyu13je2mAFfCikZzbiBL6P5JeqUlvtr7IbdEWpV_XhYKiFhBGdPV4bM/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
Add in an awesome bachelorette party on the beautiful island of Nantucket, my first trip (unbelievably considering the proximity) to the beaches of Long Island, and indeed, it has been an exciting spring!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtxEVSMVcjjfxjpMau2ZJQ7jjNzK0v7O_iw83dw9mdRDGCZbjMnK8VO-Xfzy-kLgrH6oI4tPMZcxqkJ1kT2_G-i0KcwvP5noCP3GFReYpS42QZB5Y0QAfHaz_HCTosvzIRRd27VfoL3c/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtxEVSMVcjjfxjpMau2ZJQ7jjNzK0v7O_iw83dw9mdRDGCZbjMnK8VO-Xfzy-kLgrH6oI4tPMZcxqkJ1kT2_G-i0KcwvP5noCP3GFReYpS42QZB5Y0QAfHaz_HCTosvzIRRd27VfoL3c/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm2IXmS1QjJ82GkviKabSG91_AqDk2TP8W4EJNcMq1ePv_mPYGElNZlMBcq2O-QNdXA5j-xdZPVnE9cwscSFJTrVs_diQfczfm4inaBtiT0T0HwZjXSfLuE0nSnSOnwd1CCHFlqgHijOw/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm2IXmS1QjJ82GkviKabSG91_AqDk2TP8W4EJNcMq1ePv_mPYGElNZlMBcq2O-QNdXA5j-xdZPVnE9cwscSFJTrVs_diQfczfm4inaBtiT0T0HwZjXSfLuE0nSnSOnwd1CCHFlqgHijOw/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7omm6vWzRGZpnUmrb5A_7k1gRC7wsjXLg_Ujx7-K3LR0qOK5WheGuFCnJJRKvl6Fp_4CEZRomjTG3WqXranM0FWDm7-_vyyw3w8omhGU_6BI3Y0q5X4ciBFRHR7eqZSBWAKIENrJK6s/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7omm6vWzRGZpnUmrb5A_7k1gRC7wsjXLg_Ujx7-K3LR0qOK5WheGuFCnJJRKvl6Fp_4CEZRomjTG3WqXranM0FWDm7-_vyyw3w8omhGU_6BI3Y0q5X4ciBFRHR7eqZSBWAKIENrJK6s/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtlq7EI7pw_Ty1e8K9A2Yt6LlfQpOwW2Q36tlK8p4Gx0hTSsj9auibHT9KHpY1hsYNptnfIQMA-Yf_DSVV-YOfzkjKuN-c9wdQjZSOypXvi9ykI00qEUyAUsiQo1dQME6n9erNSfhv30/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtlq7EI7pw_Ty1e8K9A2Yt6LlfQpOwW2Q36tlK8p4Gx0hTSsj9auibHT9KHpY1hsYNptnfIQMA-Yf_DSVV-YOfzkjKuN-c9wdQjZSOypXvi9ykI00qEUyAUsiQo1dQME6n9erNSfhv30/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCd8gz6xmp7Xa4u_5vLngvdfER69Qzu7lqFMQG6TjcY2lGTqi8h4rQAN9iU6FMDcPz4T5iSY5EIMHC342bFyMUsQDXX52hG39DqH-Xiw_KS40Vf2CepFJ76E5zvKBiFuHfgh30b0njs1M/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCd8gz6xmp7Xa4u_5vLngvdfER69Qzu7lqFMQG6TjcY2lGTqi8h4rQAN9iU6FMDcPz4T5iSY5EIMHC342bFyMUsQDXX52hG39DqH-Xiw_KS40Vf2CepFJ76E5zvKBiFuHfgh30b0njs1M/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkqcoTYh0jueiNxnZ57gZuCp6LfxEkPgJZdbd9QNuapJaphizXakcWS6UPtbh9FaaHUilpxbKPX2_d8TinV8KJTRJuWp5oUHm4Nem03-aJyUcOm7YiOE1XwGhAQtK62C73SemgWj0Fn9E/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkqcoTYh0jueiNxnZ57gZuCp6LfxEkPgJZdbd9QNuapJaphizXakcWS6UPtbh9FaaHUilpxbKPX2_d8TinV8KJTRJuWp5oUHm4Nem03-aJyUcOm7YiOE1XwGhAQtK62C73SemgWj0Fn9E/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
Perhaps most exciting (perhaps only to me!) M. completed his PhD. and is now "Dr. M." Yay!!! #nowitsmyturn... :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-B6101-q0iuNiwD2PGf1N9oT9c57IgPkmvX8Lsw6EovOgToiUy5743qu9tyrL9I8aVbct8mrb2Z6FSjAuQBS7oSUoqfVhfTBAXoIpyMN6eMSQrWUkPgx29Xfe3uKlFRHvXcyeCVWJ6A/s1600/photo+(3).PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-B6101-q0iuNiwD2PGf1N9oT9c57IgPkmvX8Lsw6EovOgToiUy5743qu9tyrL9I8aVbct8mrb2Z6FSjAuQBS7oSUoqfVhfTBAXoIpyMN6eMSQrWUkPgx29Xfe3uKlFRHvXcyeCVWJ6A/s320/photo+(3).PNG" width="213" /></a></div>
Life lately has taken on the pace of summer that I adore. While I have had some work related stuff that has kept me busy during the weekdays, weekends have been filled with trips to Rhode Island beaches, beach trips with friends, picking organic berries on M.'s mom's friend's farm, afternoons leisurely sipping wine at a local winery with my mom, lovely meals with friends and family, and even a night spent dancing at Midsummer Night Swing's "silent disco--" which, if you've not been, is such a cool experience! I am looking forward to some awesome upcoming summer trips and can't wait to relish in all of the warm weather joys of summer...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq9_srnr1bpp_lRkdLfYTJXTndz6XWHzFXCtw08qqlGdzl-CL8ayTyJwizQQoeHXXi8MJp2XkpX3FpOnzwr-Z9CZHpRLa3cXw7hWnhZ_94h7ER0pRuzjYEUIQm2N72MTZHZvEQCKvJCjA/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq9_srnr1bpp_lRkdLfYTJXTndz6XWHzFXCtw08qqlGdzl-CL8ayTyJwizQQoeHXXi8MJp2XkpX3FpOnzwr-Z9CZHpRLa3cXw7hWnhZ_94h7ER0pRuzjYEUIQm2N72MTZHZvEQCKvJCjA/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSoGP8kWn9KNx4NEFW29NIDq5Ly06kBtM0ZZIOj8YJ7CHRZYKZJyIJh7tKpVUndZtKAjIwgmV2TMv6bBebKR4uDd3WZJEDYNfGt_uGvS_bl20E6vjm8G1sjOR7yr1u26Pdi0hUTBYRvs/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSoGP8kWn9KNx4NEFW29NIDq5Ly06kBtM0ZZIOj8YJ7CHRZYKZJyIJh7tKpVUndZtKAjIwgmV2TMv6bBebKR4uDd3WZJEDYNfGt_uGvS_bl20E6vjm8G1sjOR7yr1u26Pdi0hUTBYRvs/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9MXWlUaiV-JeVBs32EcIZcuSsIQYOlDx3_U3ZS6-Vjhj783vKsQeQsAstTEl3apfnrfLxIzqusAmfjL-v8Jye58VsxxtIMxS-2PfVCh77W1irjJYycM8-tNSNUkAr9KmTlHMagag9x8w/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9MXWlUaiV-JeVBs32EcIZcuSsIQYOlDx3_U3ZS6-Vjhj783vKsQeQsAstTEl3apfnrfLxIzqusAmfjL-v8Jye58VsxxtIMxS-2PfVCh77W1irjJYycM8-tNSNUkAr9KmTlHMagag9x8w/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN6XWGCQskrGu21Z4zy4cZUz2Ot4NYDiVgBi_Gksn1LB0nLX71ZNFvR52eiFBIf1AzBrvBR_oWgwkobGLzKHGWgF70S11kGQe9YoUkgQtrh9PLfo0bexqBjNOsE9wWLET05-xNwEAKj6U/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN6XWGCQskrGu21Z4zy4cZUz2Ot4NYDiVgBi_Gksn1LB0nLX71ZNFvR52eiFBIf1AzBrvBR_oWgwkobGLzKHGWgF70S11kGQe9YoUkgQtrh9PLfo0bexqBjNOsE9wWLET05-xNwEAKj6U/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfjdRAnSWKGbolr4vOGGlL7zA7vO2z3btrUYMlfX2PaE7DOLzVuCG7MR4YGPJ8Jp6XtKt4jsJuPM5EKnY4qbL2fV2EjqGyjE58sA7kfHzXCkQkxPXf4d7EdMCUs9kGkd-1IJePA8DuQI/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfjdRAnSWKGbolr4vOGGlL7zA7vO2z3btrUYMlfX2PaE7DOLzVuCG7MR4YGPJ8Jp6XtKt4jsJuPM5EKnY4qbL2fV2EjqGyjE58sA7kfHzXCkQkxPXf4d7EdMCUs9kGkd-1IJePA8DuQI/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKUc3BqTFBJ7iy3yx9sHLUNsI0MYwr1x8zgwitsSfDvWwlAtRooRlsPRbE85YVetDg8_iSHSgwD2_jQLOZYkpKhGppW7PKdW9O24y-lyUZmdHhkZuyojcVRNJ3uBYmPF36lCvgHrPzg70/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKUc3BqTFBJ7iy3yx9sHLUNsI0MYwr1x8zgwitsSfDvWwlAtRooRlsPRbE85YVetDg8_iSHSgwD2_jQLOZYkpKhGppW7PKdW9O24y-lyUZmdHhkZuyojcVRNJ3uBYmPF36lCvgHrPzg70/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
Book updates to follow once I am back into the swing of blogging again!<br />
<br />
In the meantime, happy summer!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-48209460013626744502013-03-10T15:20:00.005-07:002013-07-13T10:59:51.605-07:00West Village Wanderings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVQ0H_CIwLhkoPy237hkwvK15Wm6iBIP5cZwMJSQAjwRBzxLSCu33TF5fyLot1T89k1O1Jcp3PehZmdOcj_GK-kAVsSO8hjqWaTL2zLiQGi_OCE05jz4q8si0_1hCQYaJ_AoitEyaZNc/s1600/images+(18).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="329" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVQ0H_CIwLhkoPy237hkwvK15Wm6iBIP5cZwMJSQAjwRBzxLSCu33TF5fyLot1T89k1O1Jcp3PehZmdOcj_GK-kAVsSO8hjqWaTL2zLiQGi_OCE05jz4q8si0_1hCQYaJ_AoitEyaZNc/s400/images+(18).jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
The West Village is one of my favorite New York City neighborhoods. The past couple of weekends, my friends and I have wound up down in the village and have discovered some great little places for a night out. While there are a million places to go in the village, these are a few of my favorites should you find yourself looking for things to do in that area of the city:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpepeqOCPTFR3c2x12ARA8zhmtgYWGALksNOR7s8vPFsXV-uSEbYB_g7CIgIWfiWxZUAhoKY_nittFfcg9i6jeI9Atbv0iR8JVfGzr5ws1XW8l31mHQ_O7AxM9AtVEWfz9S256gy-lPDs/s1600/Hudson-Clearwater-460x345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpepeqOCPTFR3c2x12ARA8zhmtgYWGALksNOR7s8vPFsXV-uSEbYB_g7CIgIWfiWxZUAhoKY_nittFfcg9i6jeI9Atbv0iR8JVfGzr5ws1XW8l31mHQ_O7AxM9AtVEWfz9S256gy-lPDs/s400/Hudson-Clearwater-460x345.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<u><b><a href="http://www.hudsonclearwater.com/">Hudson Clearwater</a></b></u>: Last Saturday, one of my favorite people came in from Connecticut and, after some swanky drinks at the top of the Standard Hotel in the famed <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/top-of-the-standard-new-york">Boom Boom Room</a>, we headed to this speakeasy style restaurant. It is hard to find, but when you do make it inside you are handsomely rewarded. I would imagine this place is even more incredible in the summer, as part of the adventure to find it takes you through a beautiful twinkly lighted garden. My friend and I had lovely glasses of red wine and basked in the warm atmosphere. The duck and the sea bass were delicious; seasoned to perfection. Yum. I am a big fan and will definitely be back. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiErzTCF37Ac4bOoY4jsIu5DjFjp_UzrmNvs1t4uPgS8kA7kXlqEe9hcVOhtid1uAYp2mH0jAiofRP-qgXi0utnMbdXEwzIN4BPQ7axI9iB2SCoh9aH0YHEHGdxxE6htucJaYzzNd_jJZU/s1600/employees-only.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiErzTCF37Ac4bOoY4jsIu5DjFjp_UzrmNvs1t4uPgS8kA7kXlqEe9hcVOhtid1uAYp2mH0jAiofRP-qgXi0utnMbdXEwzIN4BPQ7axI9iB2SCoh9aH0YHEHGdxxE6htucJaYzzNd_jJZU/s400/employees-only.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<b><u><a href="http://www.employeesonlynyc.com/">Employees Only</a></u></b>: Continuing with our speakeasy kind of night, my friend and I headed to Employees Only for a drink and some conversation. This place was adorable. Despite being ridiculously narrow, it was an awesome place to have a drink and catch up. We scored seats at the bar and chatted while we took in all of the prime people watching opportunities. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Cd8ApvWpsUdRXxwibqfCBk2Q6Bn_VWNgcY98wJjC3Z6AvL2XVlFTqVdb5i04Par1AGfo0AR8xj93DmBzxmcML7wdx8oS7DDFpwmRkVIy6G-H0VrQzedi46hif5aQlqroxb0xcAOnEhA/s1600/alg-restaurant-jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Cd8ApvWpsUdRXxwibqfCBk2Q6Bn_VWNgcY98wJjC3Z6AvL2XVlFTqVdb5i04Par1AGfo0AR8xj93DmBzxmcML7wdx8oS7DDFpwmRkVIy6G-H0VrQzedi46hif5aQlqroxb0xcAOnEhA/s400/alg-restaurant-jpg.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<b><u><a href="http://www.lasramblasnyc.com/">Las Ramblas</a></u></b>: Last night, I met up with a couple of friends for our monthly girls night out. We wandered into this cute, litte, Spanish restaurant that I adored, which was ironically named after the only street that I detested while traveling in Barcelona. The pomegranate sangria was so yummy, especially in conjunction with the awesome company, and after ordering almost the entire menu of tapas, we were in love with the food too. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.163nyc.com/"><b><u>163</u></b>:</a> While waiting for a table at teeny tiny Las Ramblas, my friends and I wandered the picturesque neighborhood and stumbled into the cutest shop. We were pretty excited because everything in the store was 50% off. I scored a cute necklace for next-to-nothing! I would definitely recommend this store if you are in the area. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWL1iEWA0jps-VPW4i2uIDryWTN7zGUjJdPF7ivjMhRwP4K1KUqR5BquBaYuxOJGAe8KmLZhenxXZIxSRQXFNstfVWuFt72fGfPlz9QX2McVVcclZko0eATgs-Lb7aAz4SnE_ee3uHKRo/s1600/8493190035_12d217a080_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWL1iEWA0jps-VPW4i2uIDryWTN7zGUjJdPF7ivjMhRwP4K1KUqR5BquBaYuxOJGAe8KmLZhenxXZIxSRQXFNstfVWuFt72fGfPlz9QX2McVVcclZko0eATgs-Lb7aAz4SnE_ee3uHKRo/s400/8493190035_12d217a080_z.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=hudson+clearwater+menu&aq=f&um=1&ie=UTF-8&hl=en&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&tab=wi&ei=fgU9Uc76MNLU0gHym4GADg&biw=1021&bih=466&sei=wwU9Uc_BCIrN0AHS-IHgBA#um=1&hl=en&safe=active&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=maries+crisis+nyc&oq=maries+crisis+nyc&gs_l=img.3..0i10i24.16405.19535.12.19709.17.17.0.0.0.0.133.1206.16j1.17.0...0.0...1c.1.5.img.0HtDK8GWBNk&bav=on.2,or.r_cp.r_qf.&bvm=bv.43287494,d.dmQ&fp=f82067bdbb2132e8&biw=1021&bih=466&imgrc=pmO-JBTJqsunRM%3A%3BwU_BSI6o_69wAM%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Ffarm9.staticflickr.com%252F8508%252F8493190035_12d217a080_z.jpg%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fwww.flickr.com%252Fphotos%252Fmistergalaxy%252F8493190035%252F%3B640%3B429">Images Via</a></i></div>
<div>
<u><b><a href="http://www.partyearth.com/new-york/bars/maries-crisis-cafe-2/">Marie's Crisis</a></b></u>: Saving the best for last...This place is so. much. fun. Seriously. There is a pianist who plays only show tunes and the entire audience sings along. Technically a gay bar, it is the most diverse crowd I have ever seen convened in one tiny underground bar. My friends and I had a blast and I am already planning my next visit! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am hoping that this long, cold winter is finally coming to a close. It was so nice to see so many people out wandering the streets last night and to feel like spring might finally be on the way...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Have a happy rest of the weekend!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-72365842987993620982013-02-19T11:29:00.003-08:002013-02-19T13:08:39.162-08:00Valentine's Day Weekend Eats I've never been a huge fan of Valentine's Day. In many ways, I would say that M. is far more romantic than I am. He has been aware of this since we first began dating though and he would commemorate anniversaries that I would, quite frankly, not remember. It was a busy week. I had my first debate for my law class and felt completely out of my element, I listened to about a million off key adolescent singers audition for the school talent show, I had a bunch of applications due for *fingers crossed* opportunities I hope come my way, work was crazy, as usual, and I am helping to plan a really cool event (more on that another time) for an organization that I am in, and, as we all know, planning takes time! My point is, it was another busy week, but M. found a way to get me to slow down for a bit on Valentine's Day.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Since we go out to eat quite a bit, he decided to eschew the traditional Valentine's night out and make dinner. I came home to a lovely glass of red waiting for me on the table, candles lit, and a delicious home cooked meal. I sheepishly passed him my card and a Snicker's bar--hey, he LIKES Snicker's bars! It was really cute and completely thoughtful. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6wifmpcA3mhSRe7grFt_QvcfX_wYWPXMKQZDLsxlfKC4xE9ekUYqb9Pv_O-aUnOg03NfcNOO8YiI7rQ3HP6UnoiVI9mUTBd5VRuXpLc77vJBzxPkCXeAloDy6-un5Ky-azNUbuXeTRrM/s1600/securedownload+(16).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6wifmpcA3mhSRe7grFt_QvcfX_wYWPXMKQZDLsxlfKC4xE9ekUYqb9Pv_O-aUnOg03NfcNOO8YiI7rQ3HP6UnoiVI9mUTBd5VRuXpLc77vJBzxPkCXeAloDy6-un5Ky-azNUbuXeTRrM/s1600/securedownload+(16).jpeg" /></a></div>
<div>
The rest of the weekend continued to adhere to my winter theme of eating entirely too much. We had dinner at <a href="http://www.joneswoodfoundry.com/">Jones Wood Foundry </a>on Friday- a favorite neighborhood joint and my Valentine's Day treat to M. On Saturday we headed down to the East Village to <a href="http://www.themermaidnyc.com/">The Mermaid Inn</a> on recommendation from <a href="http://joannagoddard.blogspot.com/2011/09/nyc-guide-10-best-restaurants.html">a favorite local blogger</a>, and it was delicious. Seriously just the warmest, most inviting place I have been in a long time. I will definitely be back. On Sunday, I hopped on the earliest train to Old Saybrook, CT where I met my mom and sisters and went to see family. We ended the day with drinks and dinner at <a href="http://www.oysterclubct.com/">The Oyster Club</a>, a farm (and sea) to table restaurant that was excellent--and not just because they had a favorite Virginia Woolf quote prominently placed in the lobby. Yum. While it was cozy in the winter, it has an awesome elevated deck behind it that will be relaxing and delightful come warmer weather. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWzc8qKRfLHejWZ-7pzIgozBSxg4aNpGh1girrNQDVMEH3bwGlZYmaxqy9FUhpvfQOtChwmTD1v_v8igDuJpISjLrvUEwmQct_UQgW3J5OT60vjaBJaPXucGuLcMbav9hnpuw99PBQjG8/s1600/securedownload+(17).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWzc8qKRfLHejWZ-7pzIgozBSxg4aNpGh1girrNQDVMEH3bwGlZYmaxqy9FUhpvfQOtChwmTD1v_v8igDuJpISjLrvUEwmQct_UQgW3J5OT60vjaBJaPXucGuLcMbav9hnpuw99PBQjG8/s400/securedownload+(17).jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8seTM0mKrOVjdqaOQK1OJtk-jTwtPC-UluZCg_8Z6V5YULG_KsvIT1z3Cf2avEgqLQkx51PHGOcsiRHnnsYhV8JQo6nZSX7Jc8KXRpPSbB7NYJ77CxCVw7GWOCRFnp6bXTyz6GkjTFA/s1600/securedownload+(15).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8seTM0mKrOVjdqaOQK1OJtk-jTwtPC-UluZCg_8Z6V5YULG_KsvIT1z3Cf2avEgqLQkx51PHGOcsiRHnnsYhV8JQo6nZSX7Jc8KXRpPSbB7NYJ77CxCVw7GWOCRFnp6bXTyz6GkjTFA/s400/securedownload+(15).jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div>
I spent all day yesterday up at school, since I had the day off, doing work and helping a professor plan for a film screening we are having at Columbia in March. The film looks incredibly moving--it's about breast cancer through the lens of the loss of hair during chemotherapy. Since hair is so inextricably linked to sexuality, beauty, and identity, losing it is often one of the most difficult parts of battling cancer. The director beautifully and powerfully documents this process by following the people who gain strength and community at their hair salon, which offers free haircuts for those who have to make that ultimate, and difficult sacrifice of shaving off their hair. <i><a href="http://mondaysatracine.com/">Mondays at Racine</a></i> is up for an Oscar and I hope that it wins. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/3E2005oajpo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div>
After a quick stop at the local bookstore, M. and I met for a leisurely dinner at a neighborhood favorite, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/restaurants/1026809572730/beyoglu/details.html">Beyoglu</a>, where we chatted about our days and dreamed of summer. See? I wasn't kidding when I said that I ate a ridiculous amount this weekend!!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And well, since this is also supposed to be a book blog, here are a few of my latest reads...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Just finished reading: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Beautiful-Creatures-Kami-Garcia/dp/0316231673"><i>Beautiful Creatures</i> by Garcia and Stohl</a>. With all of the advertisements peddling a book I had never even heard of, I quickly downloaded this book to check it out, but I was disappointed. The writing was cheesy, the plot fragmented in places because of weak use of flashback, and, overall, it was not a favorite. My students, however, will probably love it, so if you are connected to the adolescent set, definitely check it out!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Another YA book that I just finished was <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sever-Chemical-Garden-Lauren-DeStefano/dp/1442409096">Sever</a></i>, the third and final book of The Chemical Garden trilogy. My students are going to love this book! While it did not have the romance that propels <i>Hunger Games, </i>it was well-written and brought the series to a satisfying end. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtuMSLQCgySN-TjPaymkQVttXPusgvPlWRG-sy5okIKFnJpMrAW8htyDea5cOBPJgV2kxEu_asgjEBv_BmmO81uIOZ7rwPCGABbeTMk6atfZqV72MjZH8R0kTpdevojwm4mhltKttnQVk/s1600/images+(16).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtuMSLQCgySN-TjPaymkQVttXPusgvPlWRG-sy5okIKFnJpMrAW8htyDea5cOBPJgV2kxEu_asgjEBv_BmmO81uIOZ7rwPCGABbeTMk6atfZqV72MjZH8R0kTpdevojwm4mhltKttnQVk/s400/images+(16).jpeg" width="272" /></a></div>
<div>
Currently reading: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Home-Toni-Morrison/dp/0307594165"><i>Home</i> by Toni Morrison</a>. I once took a class entirely devoted to the writing of Toni Morrison and I am of the opinion that she is one of the most incredible contemporary writers out there. Love her. I am hoping that <i>Home</i> is as good as I anticipate it will be... </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Happy reading and stay warm!</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-82423941564849339222013-02-10T14:15:00.002-08:002013-02-10T14:24:24.769-08:00Pro-Procrastinator I have a paper due for my International Human Rights Law class, so I am procrastinating. It's what I do. Sigh.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_Mzw5AYcCgK3iYOt0wcFCWYTd_i-aBF1FziLl2rk80EPkarosoEaDAegBlXfzhqnvOeWxjXg7ZYshncqkI7FsPa1x84IPUp4CzFPXScag6SX1T1mmmKCQ8qhozc77GZgVoCrmprnp2s/s1600/securedownload+(14).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_Mzw5AYcCgK3iYOt0wcFCWYTd_i-aBF1FziLl2rk80EPkarosoEaDAegBlXfzhqnvOeWxjXg7ZYshncqkI7FsPa1x84IPUp4CzFPXScag6SX1T1mmmKCQ8qhozc77GZgVoCrmprnp2s/s400/securedownload+(14).jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
I haven't written in awhile, since I have been busy with classes and work and trying to have some fun along the way.<br />
<br />
To catch you up...I have pretty much just been eating a lot. It's January and it's cold here, and since it's so cold, all of my recent meetups with M. and with friends have been to restaurants to eat and drink in effort to stave off the misery of single digit temperatures. My favorite recent venture was to <a href="http://www.danielnyc.com/dbgb.html">DBGB</a>, where we met friends last Tuesday, and that I completely recommend should you find yourself in the East Village of Manhattan. M. and I also headed to the museums last weekend where we saw an awesome exhibit on WWII in NYC.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS4MPLuLhV2WQsRBePffQJNQ7xxXD_geOgKfbJmBSh0QmXeb7G96e0nsO7h-Tjf24Jh4FCv3COUJ7ZFTG44E9ZnQlGBMZlyusTdyTS8o5rOKWz07a_S0ZD6Bjk8v6bRPYx_NDkYf4nPOM/s1600/securedownload+(12).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS4MPLuLhV2WQsRBePffQJNQ7xxXD_geOgKfbJmBSh0QmXeb7G96e0nsO7h-Tjf24Jh4FCv3COUJ7ZFTG44E9ZnQlGBMZlyusTdyTS8o5rOKWz07a_S0ZD6Bjk8v6bRPYx_NDkYf4nPOM/s400/securedownload+(12).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
In an exhausting attempt at furthering my own karmic evolution, I also chaperoned the senior trip a couple of weekends ago. 55 seventeen-year-olds out in the middle of nowhere. Yup. Like I said... exhausting. After three full days of horseback riding, snow tubing, manhunt playing, rock climbing, archery, lifeguarding, and a nightly dance chaperoning experience that made me fearful of days I ever have teenagers I am responsible for fulltime, I was in awe of all of the parents I know. The students were in confined quarters for the weekend and by hour number three, they were on each other's nerves, resulting in an added need for therapy services. We also had to tape their doors closed each night so that they would not sneak out, which did not prevent them from sneaking out the last night and leaving a note that was taped to our door using the same tape we used to seal them into their rooms. Pretty sure I will not be signing up to chaperone trips anytime soon.<br />
<br />
This weekend was the winter storm Nemo, which was pretty, but that left much of the east coast buried. M. and I were all too happy to head out this morning and get brunch, since we were going a bit stir crazy after being cooped up yesterday.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOxw2HnD2ap7fHgPyuFzrVI3yfiVt560m1mZeQyV0GA-OpAeKQN5DZuNmiUzNJRIBq_ARbMhWgHxRcq6Z6QU1_vuyhyphenhyphenACkXcNC8Th8ZtkgwzarFX4o0eMJ86Exc0Dw5QrB_fey-wfXQ4/s1600/securedownload+(13).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOxw2HnD2ap7fHgPyuFzrVI3yfiVt560m1mZeQyV0GA-OpAeKQN5DZuNmiUzNJRIBq_ARbMhWgHxRcq6Z6QU1_vuyhyphenhyphenACkXcNC8Th8ZtkgwzarFX4o0eMJ86Exc0Dw5QrB_fey-wfXQ4/s400/securedownload+(13).jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
I'll tell you one thing...this weather has inspired me to look for tickets to somewhere warm. I am sensing a trip in the near future. Miami? Curacao? Aruba? My pasty skin needs some sun...<br />
<br />
Stay warm everyone!<br />
<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-47889276444419908022013-01-12T09:29:00.000-08:002013-01-12T09:29:08.688-08:00Winter Break<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieIxCwxVFzEh_rrOenBCg16j3zjN3B_Sew2jCnyNcqdNsCcp-sB4RsBIafbObBLdsXm1jZd0KTQC_qO7wlNkFTa-OFUkLQGyTzrZaC6QQMHAWmIF2CjvAkg7R9h2Aiwnw_IGNoL5hTNew/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieIxCwxVFzEh_rrOenBCg16j3zjN3B_Sew2jCnyNcqdNsCcp-sB4RsBIafbObBLdsXm1jZd0KTQC_qO7wlNkFTa-OFUkLQGyTzrZaC6QQMHAWmIF2CjvAkg7R9h2Aiwnw_IGNoL5hTNew/s640/photo.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
Well, even though it was back to work after the New Year, for me, this has continued to feel like something of a break. Graduate school classes do not resume until the end of January and so I am loving the amount of free time that I feel like I have all of a sudden. My weekends are my own and my weeks are not consumed by the graduate school paper writing/reading and the work related task tango. It is a much needed break!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkpTooIesm4qw8jgn8jhYBBo79xgSkq-wAZ1v-yx3i8FptTiXjrdhNhNBPdC-rVQjONyQY1Wy2gX9C8orkM0VNFSELQVvaHBeGSrkoslzH3g3bZNUoUK5319z0yk292sQnzjkz7rz9hA/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkpTooIesm4qw8jgn8jhYBBo79xgSkq-wAZ1v-yx3i8FptTiXjrdhNhNBPdC-rVQjONyQY1Wy2gX9C8orkM0VNFSELQVvaHBeGSrkoslzH3g3bZNUoUK5319z0yk292sQnzjkz7rz9hA/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
I have been taking this time to enjoy my amazing city and have done some really great things over the past couple of weeks. I think that my favorite outing was last Saturday when M and I went to Ann Hamilton's "Event of a Thread." I had to laugh because sometimes there are moments that reflect those only-in-New York City kind of experiences and I felt like this was one of them. It seemed like everyone from friends to people I follow on Instagram headed to this art exhibit last weekend. We waited in a two hour line to get in--it was so long that it looped around an entire city block. As we marked our movement forward by acknowledging when we rounded another corner, we laughed at the garbage cans on each corner filled to the brim with empty Starbucks cups--coffees consumed in effort to keep warm as people waited. Again, only New Yorkers on line for an art exhibit could generate that much post-consumer coffee cup waste.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKb5PHRDrjCpG-0zDl4-7XpKXZCX8vKOEXGNz-p3B2xKoEYhUG1Lop6OyVkP4l2NWOL5kro3MsAmxSqkl5hAbPLRDkN5Rq5SA5CzXxf8qUoRp3RGoSlfOwT_oIRZDdg7I8aaFkQ7ORTAM/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKb5PHRDrjCpG-0zDl4-7XpKXZCX8vKOEXGNz-p3B2xKoEYhUG1Lop6OyVkP4l2NWOL5kro3MsAmxSqkl5hAbPLRDkN5Rq5SA5CzXxf8qUoRp3RGoSlfOwT_oIRZDdg7I8aaFkQ7ORTAM/s640/photo.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
The exhibit was well worth the wait. First of all, the building the exhibit was housed in was beautiful and a stunning visual feast in and of itself, but beyond that, the interactive display was both fun and thought-provoking. Bathed in alternating squares of light and darkness, the exhibit was filled with giant swings that were rigged to pulleys. As people pumped their legs back and forth to swing on the giant swings, the pulleys moved a giant white curtain that hung in the middle of the huge room. This was in addition to various other theatrical elements; carrier pigeons, people dressed in military gear, and an opera singer who made her appearance at the close of the night.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFIEDj3r4Qh7bMdUmHVjW3mkQRJP6DPT_DVVEF7zWwbbL8Nw_f1PhUjmd5GT1ek_vDeCh2eJLKm8_Z79QMDIkR9F3rooBju5Sl7gReWIbN7FG9c0cVe-Sh8bOIE49jCA3jPLT3jlS0QkA/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFIEDj3r4Qh7bMdUmHVjW3mkQRJP6DPT_DVVEF7zWwbbL8Nw_f1PhUjmd5GT1ek_vDeCh2eJLKm8_Z79QMDIkR9F3rooBju5Sl7gReWIbN7FG9c0cVe-Sh8bOIE49jCA3jPLT3jlS0QkA/s640/photo.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAHUgqd3-tHfQPTdfFhYgYF1WakjLaMrodc9knUvCq3wMVbnXgEek7ZjByAUQqf5gFBYWngV1ok_b6qEZBz3NAd-7jqjvthZM2AaZXGs5lF6p4sQ-8LTJVDEFxyWhpTmwh_rFCUAXk1w/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAHUgqd3-tHfQPTdfFhYgYF1WakjLaMrodc9knUvCq3wMVbnXgEek7ZjByAUQqf5gFBYWngV1ok_b6qEZBz3NAd-7jqjvthZM2AaZXGs5lF6p4sQ-8LTJVDEFxyWhpTmwh_rFCUAXk1w/s640/photo.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
All of the cool commentary on war and the loss of of innocence aside, this exhibit was just so much fun. I realize that the art purists out there would probably disagree, but I think that there is nothing better than interactive art exhibits!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRsO25W1O4V3STbLNWkMK13Pb0YiDP9eBSyZn1HHZAphx6YdFNZRKlsvaYcod6_oigtrq2INbxtlQEnMju5X_mpB0iEgTCsZX7mMN2q4pqmEGpUg7GS-SxzThRoWZNCR6j1Tv2W4PS8Y/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRsO25W1O4V3STbLNWkMK13Pb0YiDP9eBSyZn1HHZAphx6YdFNZRKlsvaYcod6_oigtrq2INbxtlQEnMju5X_mpB0iEgTCsZX7mMN2q4pqmEGpUg7GS-SxzThRoWZNCR6j1Tv2W4PS8Y/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-80583404901833545582013-01-01T19:04:00.003-08:002013-01-12T12:57:07.283-08:00Twenty Thirteen <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6K__pjslrn6Ls-PXpvzoyLtLs0hATxdcP4SvqGAqAP4ea5u_UcKzH88Vnot7Zl__7U2eP6BgJkdvK_npxfirDSB6lvxRIJpRJwk9UhyLYg3eBYvhXrs_0V_wxWiLLo40Hx0bmlL-Ctac/s1600/securedownload+(11).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6K__pjslrn6Ls-PXpvzoyLtLs0hATxdcP4SvqGAqAP4ea5u_UcKzH88Vnot7Zl__7U2eP6BgJkdvK_npxfirDSB6lvxRIJpRJwk9UhyLYg3eBYvhXrs_0V_wxWiLLo40Hx0bmlL-Ctac/s1600/securedownload+(11).jpeg" /></a></div>
Happy New Year! I loved ringing in the new year with people I love over great food, sparkly champagne, and donning sequins and newly shiny manicures and pedicures. New Year's night also brought a lovely addition of unexpected guests, which embodies a perfect sentiment for the new year where I always hope for surprises and nights composed of friends old and new. It has been a great year and I am grateful for all of the fun, beauty, joy, and love that 2012 brought. Here's hoping that 2013 is even better.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here are some lovely memories from 2012:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW9FhPyuqq4-yvZ161Q3bjPqXRMm9usiDPh5BH_J-PCC-fKmXgXsei7SAk2qV00x0Fpa3Q-KuUwEkoe1zPoFsOmi7ETamBMSWGP5swBfeyPD-82qrt_Dksc6ScC9oy3DFci8X91D03w08/s1600/anneliese+and+i+at+park+guell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW9FhPyuqq4-yvZ161Q3bjPqXRMm9usiDPh5BH_J-PCC-fKmXgXsei7SAk2qV00x0Fpa3Q-KuUwEkoe1zPoFsOmi7ETamBMSWGP5swBfeyPD-82qrt_Dksc6ScC9oy3DFci8X91D03w08/s400/anneliese+and+i+at+park+guell.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
Travel: 2012 brought me to Spain with one of my favorite people where I also got to meet up with friends I met in Cambodia. One of my absolute favorite days in Spain was in Seville where my friend and I wandered the beautiful, windy cobblestone streets, had a delicious lunch outdoors in the warm sunshine, strolled into the oldest tavern in Spain for a drink, window shopped tiny, adorably curated shops, and enjoyed conversation (and the occasionally lost moment) in the Spanish sun.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHjy3pkqi0PHWywAprpwGv5r7l6V-aMBF6QUztyEDrqLvoDHLfUnzIr9jctOGImUY9QFKJgWBKKXL7oB66fe4fObdLM75hYExVXMqx3d-XP-WFbaBhIkiItbREBTM-IPvTTuPmVhze-k/s1600/slieve+lego+w+purple+flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHjy3pkqi0PHWywAprpwGv5r7l6V-aMBF6QUztyEDrqLvoDHLfUnzIr9jctOGImUY9QFKJgWBKKXL7oB66fe4fObdLM75hYExVXMqx3d-XP-WFbaBhIkiItbREBTM-IPvTTuPmVhze-k/s400/slieve+lego+w+purple+flowers.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
2012 also brought what has, so far, been M and I's most amazing trip. Ireland was absolutely gorgeous; from exploring the sights and tastes of Dublin, to some of the most amazing hikes I have ever done in the beautiful Irish countryside... it was an amazing memory and one I feel blessed to have had with M.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOOuJI_1wWFCB_HylOp6_qOWLcB8agm_HtdMrAuRe5VysoFe3FwZSO7r8UguOk9X5rNLCseq5KvVDhhrtTXEREL9aVgK8BdveO8huhge0ETMfyzv3bGvaE2Z5wCDZC7rLbpCI5GBF4vk/s1600/paris+eiffel+tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOOuJI_1wWFCB_HylOp6_qOWLcB8agm_HtdMrAuRe5VysoFe3FwZSO7r8UguOk9X5rNLCseq5KvVDhhrtTXEREL9aVgK8BdveO8huhge0ETMfyzv3bGvaE2Z5wCDZC7rLbpCI5GBF4vk/s640/paris+eiffel+tower.jpg" width="433" /></a></div>
<div>
Oh... and let's not forgot an incredibly romantic whirlwind day in Paris...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK888YM_0AYK1iypaiydrw6-iqF14bg2smt1nObYJWjiqshepVWdzouwhVd-3gkuo62EOQebluTBCqRzWws7d-JyiT9UJg6VvagMFJrqbVayfI_r4zm2Bv5net9kf9RVRHb218tc2FxG8/s1600/securedownload+(9).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK888YM_0AYK1iypaiydrw6-iqF14bg2smt1nObYJWjiqshepVWdzouwhVd-3gkuo62EOQebluTBCqRzWws7d-JyiT9UJg6VvagMFJrqbVayfI_r4zm2Bv5net9kf9RVRHb218tc2FxG8/s400/securedownload+(9).jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
Heading to San Francisco to study on a National Endowment for the Humanities grant was an incredible experience. Beyond studying, exploring wine country, meeting new friends, and spending the weekend with my friend who flew up to meet me made for a fabulous way to end my 2012 school year. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The Year of the City: I was talking to a girl the other night who has recently moved here from Australia and she was saying how overwhelming it has been to move here. I shared with her that I felt exactly the same when I first arrived, but that people always say that it takes 6 months to adjust and then you are sold on NYC for life. I couldn't agree more and it is hard not to look back at this year and not be grateful for all of the wonderful adventures, perfect days, and incredible opportunities that this city has offered. The city's presence weaves in and out of so many of my favorite memories from this year and for that I am grateful for living here. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVTBQab9IRNRhZGBJRy9-aKB18zK-ByVwQACeKK0mm4_kg5tktCWprALcGvZu7Z4GTJN1oHNqS1EA_-omTQ5ay5l5BqiD4X3wuAlfwcSSiCo_XIkOFiKo-pCE-beMMC42DNZ8pImEssc/s1600/securedownload+(10).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVTBQab9IRNRhZGBJRy9-aKB18zK-ByVwQACeKK0mm4_kg5tktCWprALcGvZu7Z4GTJN1oHNqS1EA_-omTQ5ay5l5BqiD4X3wuAlfwcSSiCo_XIkOFiKo-pCE-beMMC42DNZ8pImEssc/s400/securedownload+(10).jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div>
Breakfasts with M: I say this each and every year and, once again, I am so grateful for those moments that I have with M almost every morning. Whether it is a long leisurely weekend breakfast or a ten minute check in before the day begins, I am so happy for those special moments that sustain me in so many ways.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Teaching: Yes, it is hard. Yes, it has its moments when I am tired, frustrated, and drained, but it also has rare and powerful moments of thanks, gratitude, appreciation, learning, and self discovery and so, for that, I am thankful.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwu4uakw4zBfWYPCPRUijzfU245uzxuidQKWgq5tuk_V1DuxQ1mgjbGuSm284vX40RwKH9ih3PwKTTXDzrZjlwnpdBfcYDd86tIE5-AWb5B02GO-ZChyplnfW1EhzhgFS16fxkx95uf0M/s1600/securedownload+(8).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwu4uakw4zBfWYPCPRUijzfU245uzxuidQKWgq5tuk_V1DuxQ1mgjbGuSm284vX40RwKH9ih3PwKTTXDzrZjlwnpdBfcYDd86tIE5-AWb5B02GO-ZChyplnfW1EhzhgFS16fxkx95uf0M/s640/securedownload+(8).jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div>
Learning: 2012 brought me closer to the completion of my degree, but more importantly, graduate school has become such an integral part of my identity. My university community and the friends I have made there are something that I am so incredibly thankful for. Beyond this, I am so thankful that 2012 and this milieu is a time in which I have the opportunity to live my life very much as I choose. I sat with my Nana on Christmas day and I was talking to her about an email I had recently received from a professor about an exciting academic opportunity that I have in April. My Nana, who chose to be a homemaker, was wonderful at her job. She raised five children and has always been a source of inspiration to me for many reasons. It was funny to sit with her and talk on Christmas about how different it was for her growing up than it has been for me. She talked about my great aunt, who also loved to learn and be in school, and how hard it was for her in the late forties and early fifties to do all of the things that she wanted to do. She told me about my great aunt's experience working her way up to become a dean at a prestigious university and then how, when she was diagnosed with breast cancer, she had to hide the fact that she was getting chemotherapy in order to keep her job. As she spoke about all of my aunt's adventures (climbing Khathmandu, traveling all over the world, etc.) I think back to how we always viewed her as "crazy aunt P." when we were little--probably, in part, because she was not the "typical" woman of her era. Either way, as I listened to my Nana and thought about how much I personally admire both of them and their chosen paths, I think about how incredibly lucky I am to live in a time when both paths (or neither!) are perfectly acceptable. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And, of course, the most important thing: In 2012 I am so grateful for the love in my life--M, family, friends, dogs! I feel so incredibly grateful, inexpressibly even, for all of the amazing and supportive people in my life. Gratitude. Gratitude. Gratitude. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And, what would the new year be without some "resolutions?! I hope to keep more of 2012 coming and then, of course, I have my goal list that I always keep private but that I hope will continue to get little checks marking off progress and completion on this wonderful journey through life.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Happy New Year! </div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-41291737943836223402012-12-28T08:53:00.000-08:002012-12-28T09:00:56.598-08:00Home for the Holidays<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEBEd8IvrhvG8jHpoD3n9pc81vJXFidW6uXiGzvTF9Wv0pQTEirIAuy6yvPmEgWTZYMWeKm3251LMIrIutlBO3OB5Lv8YtUqD6jrJkcrdQhJYwPh8brzjS5E7nzJ5bQ0gJ8yyoIMiAxE/s1600/hoem+for+holidays.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEBEd8IvrhvG8jHpoD3n9pc81vJXFidW6uXiGzvTF9Wv0pQTEirIAuy6yvPmEgWTZYMWeKm3251LMIrIutlBO3OB5Lv8YtUqD6jrJkcrdQhJYwPh8brzjS5E7nzJ5bQ0gJ8yyoIMiAxE/s400/hoem+for+holidays.jpg" width="335" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Image Via Pinterest </i></div>
I hope that everyone had a wonderful holiday season. I loved traveling home, seeing friends and family, and, despite the intensity of a short visit where we packed in seeing many, many different people, it was lovely to spend time with those I love this holiday season.<br />
<br />
Some of my favorite moments:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm9Xa9ivdEeXHD3-a3dEoj3VVVQbjtHP0-aPIBSNWBfUxHsRLmZ4zrrggNBksVyBK0u7TuDv9YkE02CdbnIgy_tsqId9fcQxI_Cv9UhrGCFfQxXv_yyCYK63om8ueoJByr4CLxUPNQJvY/s1600/coco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm9Xa9ivdEeXHD3-a3dEoj3VVVQbjtHP0-aPIBSNWBfUxHsRLmZ4zrrggNBksVyBK0u7TuDv9YkE02CdbnIgy_tsqId9fcQxI_Cv9UhrGCFfQxXv_yyCYK63om8ueoJByr4CLxUPNQJvY/s400/coco.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Image Via Pinterest </i></div>
Holiday meals: Be it brunch, lunch, or dinner, it was great to spend time with family over delicious food...<br />
<br />
Seeing friends from high school and being there to see their reactions to some exciting news shared by another friend via speaker phone!<br />
<br />
Getting crafty on Christmas Eve: Inspired by Pinterest, we made coasters using inexpensive tiles purchased at Home Depot, glossy modge podge, and some favorite photographs.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib1VUf1DoiX1zFebaRj0ZSKj9VCVe3l7AmQhV-0qraTzrhGBg1T7ZItfW5YqTwpZAueg6r9ECIReECJTGoj1uD-X0tlAtSxz_doyXVMxVGfT1czqpXGu9Z7J0ug8HkVIP9HBa55O3E7RI/s1600/securedownload+(7).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib1VUf1DoiX1zFebaRj0ZSKj9VCVe3l7AmQhV-0qraTzrhGBg1T7ZItfW5YqTwpZAueg6r9ECIReECJTGoj1uD-X0tlAtSxz_doyXVMxVGfT1czqpXGu9Z7J0ug8HkVIP9HBa55O3E7RI/s400/securedownload+(7).jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
Exchanging gifts Christmas morning...While gifts are not the most important things by any stretch of the imagination, it is still fun to receive thoughtful gifts; among my favorites, a new comforter to keep cozy on cold winter nights, a favorite Christmas movie, <i>The Holiday</i>, and an adorable hedge hog measuring cup series!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4me327I5uubnQDwO-yFLvdewP7SOG5axK7QuQUtsIlGKeaoXoJlh-dP3rfuan6ZkU047p-nHjGIIgqYanKwTcB2jtiuWw9z8WN0WBlcqiHqj6xIl0R4E2ynI1VptsagAfoTylCI1H_I/s1600/198299189814455044_rtCBsmdE_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4me327I5uubnQDwO-yFLvdewP7SOG5axK7QuQUtsIlGKeaoXoJlh-dP3rfuan6ZkU047p-nHjGIIgqYanKwTcB2jtiuWw9z8WN0WBlcqiHqj6xIl0R4E2ynI1VptsagAfoTylCI1H_I/s400/198299189814455044_rtCBsmdE_c.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
Strolling around Mystic, CT to see M's dad's amazing city planning project come to life through the streetscapes of Mystic and enjoying a lovely meal and drinks afterwards at a local restaurant.<br />
<br />
Manicures with my sister; nothing like the perfect holiday red to spice up the holidays!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIip3rd8KxiEDCHlzkveCnSEjJ2iY8z_hvXNEGp6I7Seqe5PPyYtVa6rwoaXvhh70lZpJAddduJ9bVeE40zL4c97BaIgwXOHVwSlZmE-JEhbNb1lXa79LaBWnF06EbYL3-3RUxN4YLNWY/s1600/holiday+red+mani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIip3rd8KxiEDCHlzkveCnSEjJ2iY8z_hvXNEGp6I7Seqe5PPyYtVa6rwoaXvhh70lZpJAddduJ9bVeE40zL4c97BaIgwXOHVwSlZmE-JEhbNb1lXa79LaBWnF06EbYL3-3RUxN4YLNWY/s320/holiday+red+mani.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Image Via Pinterest </i></div>
The candlelight service Christmas Eve: I always love the closing moment to the service when the congregation sings the various verses of "Silent Night" while lighting neighbor's candles until the entire church is illuminated with the light of individual candles. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8CGQbMoK7omZK_oBQra_spCXXht-Ja6cRJfIDKDj-LeZxV1WoealNkKE9f0oKWcrdWy2p6YtJfiTODRbFGFtk86VoSRRGDPcX7hbjybyZ01tL7LU6T7cGg1mo-yuD9l5xqf_lqOK04c/s1600/securedownload+(6).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8CGQbMoK7omZK_oBQra_spCXXht-Ja6cRJfIDKDj-LeZxV1WoealNkKE9f0oKWcrdWy2p6YtJfiTODRbFGFtk86VoSRRGDPcX7hbjybyZ01tL7LU6T7cGg1mo-yuD9l5xqf_lqOK04c/s400/securedownload+(6).jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
A gorgeous snowstorm that left the world a soft, wintery, white...a lovely end to a wonderful week!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-11851923310531625672012-12-16T21:19:00.001-08:002012-12-16T21:20:10.233-08:00Mourning for My Home State <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8AeO2MR3or5TcwckbFWg3cXA6-poct6WJw4gyrF3YZWVfH3kSC9EKpASSvkoHn_kqQAYtWERNk6IjsLRYEfyBuP4hMTHFdPu9YowyhjpjsWVdNdkGO3oObauNIckSwkbkEHQqCz1EQE/s1600/dove.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8AeO2MR3or5TcwckbFWg3cXA6-poct6WJw4gyrF3YZWVfH3kSC9EKpASSvkoHn_kqQAYtWERNk6IjsLRYEfyBuP4hMTHFdPu9YowyhjpjsWVdNdkGO3oObauNIckSwkbkEHQqCz1EQE/s320/dove.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
As a teacher, and as someone originally from Connecticut, Friday's tragic elementary school shooting felt far too close to home. For the past couple days, I have found myself suspended in a strange place in which I cannot seem to tear myself away from the news while all at once having a desperate need to avert my eyes from a situation so painful I cannot look. My weekend transpired much in the same way; a mixture of the usual normalities and trivial weekend enjoyments punctuated by tears I could not hold back as my Facebook newsfeed filled with comments from too many friends who knew the victims of this tragedy, or I heard the names read on the television, or I saw a family walk by with a child who looked to be six-years-old. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While people on both sides of the vitriolic gun control debate or the when-is-it-an-appropriate-time-to-talk-about-gun-control-debate have voiced their opinions, it remains to be seen how a country in mourning will proceed in ensuring that a tragedy of this magnitude does not happen again. In haste, I have heard people say everything from: we need metal detectors in schools (I currently work in a school with metal detectors following a deadly school shooting before I worked there in 2005) to a completely crazy remark that had the teachers been armed this would not have happened. While like everyone else, I have strong opinions on this argument, I think that, just for right now, all I really want to say is that I mourn for those parents, I grieve for that community, I revere those educators, and I hold our nation's community in my thoughts as we try to make sense of something so senseless. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-55155985851856993172012-12-09T14:30:00.001-08:002012-12-09T14:31:42.279-08:00The Ghosts of Christmas Past Lately, I have been thinking a lot about time. Perhaps it is with the talk of New Years or with the changing landscape of my life, but it seems like the passage of time feels somehow more present lately.<br />
<br />
<br />
Sometimes my brooding on the passage of time is more obvious, like this weekend when my friend's husband dressed up as "Father Time" at their annual "Hideous Holiday Sweater Party." This year, I didn't make the mistake I made last year when I misread the comma as a Hideous Holiday--Sweater Party and came as Columbus Day complete with a sweater depicting the rape and murder of North America's indigenous population. Yeah, that didn't go over so well in a sea of red and green, snowmen and reindeers, Santas and sleigh bells.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZetigD1kiSMuPx4pCYC4H4Cf6nsA7IsLFXdjYRM_Uv_ZeVa9idbnZz_iiBephKuCx3gfsD5aLUY_IKKMOk85JNsoyPVbbMlxZAYOKUv_mTGyiTSgOEHr2QraylHtANgRSJ077bgIhQso/s1600/me+n+father+christmas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZetigD1kiSMuPx4pCYC4H4Cf6nsA7IsLFXdjYRM_Uv_ZeVa9idbnZz_iiBephKuCx3gfsD5aLUY_IKKMOk85JNsoyPVbbMlxZAYOKUv_mTGyiTSgOEHr2QraylHtANgRSJ077bgIhQso/s400/me+n+father+christmas.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
The party was comprised of people I have known since college and, at the end of the night as we chatted about New Years, we looked through old pictures of New Years from long ago. We laughed as we remember one particular New Years Eve when we went out in the "city" near my hometown and my parents dropped us off and picked us up at the bar. I still burst out laughing when I think about the image of all of us barreling into my mom's station wagon at the end of the night. We have since moved out of the house and as we looked at those pictures and saw a youthful fullness in our faces we laughed about how long ago that seemed and how different our lives are now from then.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCWYI7ehsa53s2FmPwKRQfY3mjOkOk03MzVkZwmOf4RIgfsLGujdTEI2PU7C5Irw8ST52I3wwXwBnoJw7gD7vHC7dG4luKweQXUzyEvzzXUr5wAhoxLBWh1qP5OLBgv8wUpHrwG_QwF0/s1600/ornament.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCWYI7ehsa53s2FmPwKRQfY3mjOkOk03MzVkZwmOf4RIgfsLGujdTEI2PU7C5Irw8ST52I3wwXwBnoJw7gD7vHC7dG4luKweQXUzyEvzzXUr5wAhoxLBWh1qP5OLBgv8wUpHrwG_QwF0/s400/ornament.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
While some of my thoughts on the passage of time have been humorous reminders of how far we've come, others have been more bittersweet. M. and I got our Christmas tree and, as we decorated it, I realized many of the ornaments came from a couple of my favorite people: My Nana and Poppop. Though my Poppop passed away a few years ago now, I think of him often and during the holiday season I always feel his loss more acutely. My favorite ornament is one that came from my Nana and Poppop; it is a beautiful glass bulb and it is so fragile that it has a special velvety box in which it is stored each year until it is placed in its rightful place on the top of the tree. Hand painted doves flutter across the ornament; a sign of peace, which is such a relevant reminder of my Poppop for so many reasons. Sometimes I feel sad when I think about the fact that if I have children they will never know my Poppop, but then I remember that, as cliche as it sounds, he really does live on in memory and in moments--like when I put that beautiful, fragile glass bulb on the tree each year. A reminder that life and love are fragile and precious, but they are also powerful like the memories that flood over me each year.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zDqCRkplDVBIjTrfDYG6LE8jRWdeqPHCmiK11-nTslK34U4ALvvvYM5m4X92cABBlzX9VDPz016O5PtalV6UUINrN1swBtXbtIfQPMO_sE4SBvBzrzcsOV0s4oaTI56xE9l_NymvF-M/s1600/ornament+close+up.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zDqCRkplDVBIjTrfDYG6LE8jRWdeqPHCmiK11-nTslK34U4ALvvvYM5m4X92cABBlzX9VDPz016O5PtalV6UUINrN1swBtXbtIfQPMO_sE4SBvBzrzcsOV0s4oaTI56xE9l_NymvF-M/s400/ornament+close+up.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
After we decorated the tree, we went to The Metropolitan Museum of Art at night to see their tree and walk around in the crowd-free, peaceful museum setting. It is difficult not to think about the passage of time when you walk around a museum and look upon all of the antiquities that were so alive and real during their time and are now merely relegated to artifacts for people to look upon and try to make sense of.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs4Y1R69nDn_LEAhOQmB8H8KKhWNFw_rbT7u8X8QxbVIRY1QYKjdvvGF7u7HrYuHCZelb5VWBG0pfo1zJTj7niozd2b5nO1KegF5PlLc4ChBOjW8nWafJtwJ6BBw3GWN2u0ygZR2UcsJU/s1600/christmas+tree+met.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs4Y1R69nDn_LEAhOQmB8H8KKhWNFw_rbT7u8X8QxbVIRY1QYKjdvvGF7u7HrYuHCZelb5VWBG0pfo1zJTj7niozd2b5nO1KegF5PlLc4ChBOjW8nWafJtwJ6BBw3GWN2u0ygZR2UcsJU/s400/christmas+tree+met.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiluhzFlKXN_EhVDlieSyzJaAgj6-9L7gE4O4nYwbXuQA3MOdIolZ6HCmcxmPrFTUCkFR0gOUTr_Wz8YSz6311ZRb798Q4wopXmvWXfwlRiIdNkecrYiTXymZCv25b8VFZFmNDGARZamSo/s1600/museum.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiluhzFlKXN_EhVDlieSyzJaAgj6-9L7gE4O4nYwbXuQA3MOdIolZ6HCmcxmPrFTUCkFR0gOUTr_Wz8YSz6311ZRb798Q4wopXmvWXfwlRiIdNkecrYiTXymZCv25b8VFZFmNDGARZamSo/s400/museum.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
So, for me the "ghosts of Christmas past" have loomed large this week and I just want to take a moment and appreciate the past since it has help to make my present so rich and full of wonder. Since I know that one day these moments too will be merely memories, I hope to make them powerful and important ones.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-39574750763979952142012-12-01T09:19:00.002-08:002012-12-01T09:19:11.740-08:00Winter Warming the Swedish Way with Vinglogg and Pepparkakor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIu-nuHAAcTgBjcbidbA0yoqzU2PdCibzJZF8utizFwIvN-IbW1x0QOJuVRuZ9sEsse1RMQ6SgvC9Ytj8ncjHG-jbfKWWF5kdXA5BJF5h0uE17KRx9yqOooRzhwWIPMl0gdQP209QZnOI/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIu-nuHAAcTgBjcbidbA0yoqzU2PdCibzJZF8utizFwIvN-IbW1x0QOJuVRuZ9sEsse1RMQ6SgvC9Ytj8ncjHG-jbfKWWF5kdXA5BJF5h0uE17KRx9yqOooRzhwWIPMl0gdQP209QZnOI/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWDRda2X_Bgwef4_VunPDpqczgFclp5Os99c9nQjxM9kZfUMwbKhAjETZQxZSMjb_EYRC5qHpOtVEpzWNOZ-EnERdqUGAeO5rsCAW2G1sqj7QI40XBgIDg2tUe-R-0tOLhdpbw_zVbLmQ/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWDRda2X_Bgwef4_VunPDpqczgFclp5Os99c9nQjxM9kZfUMwbKhAjETZQxZSMjb_EYRC5qHpOtVEpzWNOZ-EnERdqUGAeO5rsCAW2G1sqj7QI40XBgIDg2tUe-R-0tOLhdpbw_zVbLmQ/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
A few years ago when teaching in Cambodia, I was fortunate to meet a group of Swedish women with whom I traveled after teaching and came to become great friends with. In the years that followed, we have met in Spain to travel and they have visited New York City on several occasions This week, one of my lovely Swedish friend's boyfriends was lecturing at Columbia University on Scandinavian crime fiction, so they came to stay with us in New York City. It has been wonderful to spend the week with them and catch up over dinners and drinks!<br />
<br />
I always love our comparative discussions on the culture of The United States and Sweden. While usually our conversations revolve around politics or the politics of education, this week, with the Christmas season rapidly approaching, we also talked about Christmas traditions in Sweden and in the United States. As a thank you for letting us stay gift, Janna and Jonas (can you get anymore Swedish!?) brought us a typical Advent treat which was fun to hear about and sample!<br />
<br />
In Sweden during the Advent season (those weeks leading up to Christmas), which is also a cold, blustery time in those northern reaches of Scandinavia, one common household tradition is to eat what is essentially gingerbread and buns with mulled wine. As a child, I remember lighting candles on Sunday evening to represent each week of Advent and I also remember opening little paper windows to reveal a chocolate treat for each day of Advent. It was fun to add a more adult interpretation of the holiday into my repertoire!<br />
<br />
I definitely need to make this the year that I visit Sweden. Can't wait to begin planning that trip, but, in the meantime, I will indulge in some pepparkakor and vinglogg! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSUp3ZW2zXF-RQa-NPbh-JQ2MbjS2PbUmE33MRNdDQbJWBPLA2C_OiVsL0Bm0j84HhHONpmqcppM0YD7JdqA6SFLuLX-PySWft9ZwXbG2kLsJt-Ahob0GMwvdbxi7qQS0s5FPvnAIlwP0/s1600/275352964688477632_QwVrpfQd_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSUp3ZW2zXF-RQa-NPbh-JQ2MbjS2PbUmE33MRNdDQbJWBPLA2C_OiVsL0Bm0j84HhHONpmqcppM0YD7JdqA6SFLuLX-PySWft9ZwXbG2kLsJt-Ahob0GMwvdbxi7qQS0s5FPvnAIlwP0/s400/275352964688477632_QwVrpfQd_c.jpg" width="270" /></a></div>
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-55537986938693145562012-11-26T19:24:00.000-08:002012-11-26T19:31:58.442-08:00A Little Bit of Luck My 85 year old neighbor Art is a real New York character. He has lived in New York City for the better part of his life and claims that the day he leaves will be the day he is "carted out in a box." He is by no means politically correct and often says stuff to M. like, "Can you believe these husbands who wake up early on Saturday to push their kid around in the baby stroller? Their wives are lazy. My wife always took care of all eleven of our children all of the time." Misogyny aside, he is an interesting person who was at one point the reigning United States salsa champion and at another time choreographed all of the dance numbers for a cruise ship on which he toured the world. Sometimes he will share stories with M. and I and we will assume that they are a gross exaggeration only to realize there is some newspaper clipping corroborating their existence or picture proving their occurrence.<br />
<br />
On Thanksgiving, after the turkey, I met family at <a href="http://mohegansun.com/gateway/index.html">a Connecticut casino</a> for a change of pace. I am not a big fan of casinos and never gamble. After much urging though, I decided to play one game of Roulette. Much to my delight I won 200 dollars immediately on my favorite number and on my only gamble. My neighbor Art, a true gambler who used to frequent the OTB (a place I had never even heard of until I met him) and has M. help him transfer money into his horse racing account (because he is technologically challenged, yet involved in betting that requires internet skills), has claimed that this was extremely lucky since Roulette is a game of pure luck. Therefore, I am posting this for someday when I become the eccentric New York character in the building who tells impossible stories from my youth and need photographic evidence and documentation to prove that my tales are not just another old woman's yarn.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3uU8kK5C_X6UvQ16mkIcPSY8opWiN1Ri4l-zdxbUF_O_sRz5eeXMfWIFTL_-mKGeU5qjikWCIrmLY8JOm2vQ4qdNelQYulZE8m4mbQOk1DtZi0BubGyANkUu8plPVUOGR3IYVtgbPas/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3uU8kK5C_X6UvQ16mkIcPSY8opWiN1Ri4l-zdxbUF_O_sRz5eeXMfWIFTL_-mKGeU5qjikWCIrmLY8JOm2vQ4qdNelQYulZE8m4mbQOk1DtZi0BubGyANkUu8plPVUOGR3IYVtgbPas/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-44016635455068586012012-11-25T16:27:00.001-08:002012-11-25T16:27:35.665-08:00You Had Me At Woof <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOHzqyrKVvxhbDB9T23V9mBFRRbj_ruDFIz2FIEuNpYtn8mx4QDp4t76ghhkX0AydS5KmFjFYy-RVsJbmlpb0mQMggXsbQLRosYrg8aMnHdehamqpLynzREc265xZ0XHqjMmE24o0t8g/s1600/frenchie+going+on+a+trip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOHzqyrKVvxhbDB9T23V9mBFRRbj_ruDFIz2FIEuNpYtn8mx4QDp4t76ghhkX0AydS5KmFjFYy-RVsJbmlpb0mQMggXsbQLRosYrg8aMnHdehamqpLynzREc265xZ0XHqjMmE24o0t8g/s400/frenchie+going+on+a+trip.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
Nobody loves Thanksgiving as much as my dog Frenchie. The night before we leave for Connecticut, we begin to mention the words "train," "Connecticut," "Max," and "backyard" to our three-year-old Boston Terrier and, though he may lack opposable thumbs and has been known to turn around with wonder and sniff perplexed when any kind of gaseous substance departs his back end, he is quick to catch on when these words are uttered. When his travel bag emerges from the closet, little can contain his excitement at the journey that will surely end with a lot of face licking from his brother Max and treats from his over indulgent Grandma.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For anyone who is a dog lover out there, you understand how dogs have a way of worming into our lives and hearts and essentially becoming a member of our families. M. always says had I asked him a million years ago when we began dating if he would ever fall asleep with a dog in his bed and wake with a dog spooning him under the covers he would have called him crazy and yet when I am pretending not to watch, M. is the first one to rain kisses down on Frenchie's flat little face. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sometimes I think that this blog should just come out as the "Dog Book Genre Blog" that it is rather than masquerading as a regular old book blog, but until that day, for those who love a good dog story that warms the heart, check out Julie Klam's <i>You Had Me At Woof: How Dogs Taught Me the Secret of Happiness, </i>which, naturally, stars a Boston Terrier. I can't promise that you won't sob in parts of this book, but I will promise a heartwarming read--especially for those of us who love dogs. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14EsPIpv11fZK77JhoAqVeZ0Ws9qFO1EXBS5hb9eOoxO1YzWpz6wYgulRyp_bEX5y-rmCJNO50cC0mHGbnqUzomoCdPsuBAd2pQaHUWx2oyBAyDSGQSBn_D0w69ZTELTqGKsO4iXjDX8/s1600/You-Had-Me-at-Woof-Klam-Julie-9781400116911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14EsPIpv11fZK77JhoAqVeZ0Ws9qFO1EXBS5hb9eOoxO1YzWpz6wYgulRyp_bEX5y-rmCJNO50cC0mHGbnqUzomoCdPsuBAd2pQaHUWx2oyBAyDSGQSBn_D0w69ZTELTqGKsO4iXjDX8/s400/You-Had-Me-at-Woof-Klam-Julie-9781400116911.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-207425088313000722012-11-20T16:23:00.002-08:002012-11-20T16:23:31.624-08:00A Disappointing Ending <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIO8iQMQLfivYMK9uQUGK8fIplsIzhBx-Jkz4_54GW6yLTQ5HzJKyr3i_Kqld9cHUAg5ASC9eX48KtuU3m7ryqImJCiwgUOBqNXoSHzJ__KNBqvP8OKFG8gFBXnVzBIZbZIMgfw9X5yB4/s1600/Reached.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIO8iQMQLfivYMK9uQUGK8fIplsIzhBx-Jkz4_54GW6yLTQ5HzJKyr3i_Kqld9cHUAg5ASC9eX48KtuU3m7ryqImJCiwgUOBqNXoSHzJ__KNBqvP8OKFG8gFBXnVzBIZbZIMgfw9X5yB4/s320/Reached.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
The final book <i>Reached</i> in Allie Condie's Matched series came out last Friday and I downloaded it Thursday night! I was anxiously anticipating the conclusion to a series that I have really enjoyed and would love at some point to teach as part of a dystopian/speculative fiction unit. Unfortunately, I was disappointed in the final book in this series. The character development was dragging and uninspired and the loose ends of the plot were tied up predictably. A shame considering the potential I thought existed in the first two books of this trilogy.<br />
<br />
If you loved <i>Matched </i>and <i>Crossed</i>, check it out, but wait for your local library copy or borrow it from a friend...<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-76949209490933042132012-11-18T17:09:00.000-08:002012-11-18T17:16:38.164-08:00Traditions<i>Tradition: Rituals, beliefs, or objects that are passed down within a society or family; a custom, or specific practice of long-standing.</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGBEvKPSbcq5HDSqcs0NbNRo6psmZCpUjwF6EDIjF2upGe8lPHawzsztFAU4k1JuGS5ZE3pVhNis6MiqGGB6t1Deic6I0GGGo5kilXP-iF_WXGFKfO-_TYkqAlQl5EpGgJYdDfizUzNFY/s1600/traditions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGBEvKPSbcq5HDSqcs0NbNRo6psmZCpUjwF6EDIjF2upGe8lPHawzsztFAU4k1JuGS5ZE3pVhNis6MiqGGB6t1Deic6I0GGGo5kilXP-iF_WXGFKfO-_TYkqAlQl5EpGgJYdDfizUzNFY/s400/traditions.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
As I walked to work this week through Lincoln Center, there were numerous workers on ladders wrapping intricate lighting designs around the trees that line the streets. Holiday cups have made their seasonal debut at Starbucks. People are constructing elaborate window displays in stores all over the city. The holiday season is upon us and, with the holiday season, comes the inevitable flurry of holiday traditions--pressured by modern media, others, or internally constructed pressure, and then reinforced by everything from window displays to coffee commercials.<br />
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikD87xT2lug7kTlqtgU84v8ajX89X_PVdERhE3fQ42KbaojkT6wXyMbX4j16Uj8mdzskOu764zh1SvWmQkuQjAp1fQeI0QukUpasZFQknLJuTyRgc8gfCiQwGM1Z1jN-oppCxbhilCvb4/s1600/87609155221309005_kGnfTOgm_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikD87xT2lug7kTlqtgU84v8ajX89X_PVdERhE3fQ42KbaojkT6wXyMbX4j16Uj8mdzskOu764zh1SvWmQkuQjAp1fQeI0QukUpasZFQknLJuTyRgc8gfCiQwGM1Z1jN-oppCxbhilCvb4/s400/87609155221309005_kGnfTOgm_c.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
I love traditions. From old traditions like decorating the Christmas tree with ornaments that I have had since birth or singing carols at the Christmas Eve service to new(er) traditions like "winter festivities" ice skating and secret santa with my friends or M. and I's yearly purchasing of our Christmas tree--which is a vastly different experience in New York City than the farm Christmas tree chopping of my youth--there is something comforting in traditions.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That said, I also love things that are non-traditional or unorthodox and feel that we should never get so caught up in tradition that we lose the ability to grow, change, and let new and wonderful things into our lives. It's easy to get caught up in the idea that we have to do the same thing in the exact same way year after year after year, but the reality is that if our lives were the same year in and year out, they would be boring, staid, and lackluster. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Saturday morning, after a late night out Friday night, I was snuggling on my couch with my dog and I turned on the television to mindlessly watch something. I ended up watching the cheesy movie <i>Christmas with the Kranks</i> in its entirety. While the movie is a comedically modern Christmas movie, the films take on traditions I found completely endearing. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmgR1ReC5dwxwUuqyf5G3YteHvwWPhRjDvtiyznbUontUUACfKQ0hlteD6psZPgAIIBGrIns-MEIh2J0f1BoT_0Sw4QFLvTfsRf15LKkaXPh-TDa7rEI6L32w9Y0kd2fY_IaPRIK1fruo/s1600/christmas-with-the-kranks_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmgR1ReC5dwxwUuqyf5G3YteHvwWPhRjDvtiyznbUontUUACfKQ0hlteD6psZPgAIIBGrIns-MEIh2J0f1BoT_0Sw4QFLvTfsRf15LKkaXPh-TDa7rEI6L32w9Y0kd2fY_IaPRIK1fruo/s400/christmas-with-the-kranks_2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
In the film, The Krank's daughter tells them that she will not be coming home for Christmas that year. The couple, always obsessed with Christmas, decides to skip all of their usual Christmas traditions and go on a cruise. They forego Christmas trees, decorations, presents, and holiday hams, and are about to leave for the Caribbean when their daughter calls and says that--SURPRISE--she will be home after all. After a freak-out that they have not prepared for Christmas, they race around trying to recreate the exact same Christmas they have always had, failing miserably in their attempts. Ultimately, the family creates a new Christmas tradition, with pieces of the old traditions, and it ends up being the best holiday they have ever had; one of personal growth, redemption, and all of the aspects of the holidays that really matter. </div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTt53k2u__hHFRLwqYXXgELgZPeLp5B7b4WXU2bzAyv7V7HAOZSu77jC31A6d0h13EOBGQcFNnM3ndSFKOcTetb3XqJ0jLXQx3XDumNzS9T_Ac5aORdwXcO5VRtK1k5HXKS4wEEzFNIwo/s1600/norman+rockwell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTt53k2u__hHFRLwqYXXgELgZPeLp5B7b4WXU2bzAyv7V7HAOZSu77jC31A6d0h13EOBGQcFNnM3ndSFKOcTetb3XqJ0jLXQx3XDumNzS9T_Ac5aORdwXcO5VRtK1k5HXKS4wEEzFNIwo/s320/norman+rockwell.jpg" width="249" /></a></div>
<div>
The past few years have brought many changes to my life; changes that have made it impossible to cling to every single old tradition, especially during, what can be, an intense holiday season when so often there is a pressure to maintain and perfectly render a holiday of shiny glazed turkeys, festive holiday centerpieces, and apple pies that taste so incredible that you want to smile like a family in a Norman Rockwell painting. This message is often incongruous with a holiday that obfuscates a history of violence against the people indigenous to this country or the fact that so many people in this continent will be homeless this holiday season, but I digress...I guess what I am saying is that sometimes in the name of maintaining the tradition, the reasons for the inception of the tradition are lost. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I guess I end with the sentiment that as wonderful as traditions are, they can also be confining and there is nothing wrong with opening ourselves to new things. We might even enjoy ourselves--or, better yet, appreciate what really matters! And, don't get me wrong, I will be the first one to begin playing <i>The Nutcracker</i> soundtrack the day after Thanksgiving, I will also probably purchase too many apple pies to count at the Farmer's Market from now until Christmas, and I will sing "Silent Night" loudly on Christmas Eve as I hold a candle at the candlelight service, but, that said, I look forward to all of the amazing adventures and joy that are birthed from the breaking of old traditions, the appreciation of all that I have, being with family and friends, and doing my best to help others in the spirit of the season during the holidays as well. </div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-81473957804332534332012-11-12T18:09:00.001-08:002012-11-12T18:10:00.407-08:00Vintage Library I know, I know, it has been a while since I've posted! It has been a busy, busy week; however, it has also been a wonderful week filled with <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/restaurants/1026809572730/beyoglu/details.html">delicious dates,</a> baby showers with favorite people, drinks with friends, a growing obsession with yoga (thanks to a <a href="http://houseofjai.com/">new local yoga studio</a>), a successful presentation for graduate school, trying my hand at event planning, yummy shakes at shake shack, city walks, another trip idea in the planning stages, first snowfalls, and cozy nights in with chai tea. Feel sufficiently caught up? Good :)<br />
<br />
Anyone who has read my blog knows of my love for old library card catalogues. Part childhood library nostalgia, part furniture aesthetic obsession, the library card catalogue is definitely something I covet. This is why I was so excited when M's mom called last week to let me know that she had stumbled upon a library that was parting with their vintage oak library card catalogue. I can't wait to see what purpose this piece of library history will serve for my home over the years.<br />
<br />
Perhaps what once stored the locations of astronomy books will be reinvented as a wine storage system:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsNFbKHf7RYBkvJ_b6x5Mimac-lBAgvIcpdx2MsCFxhzEZ5dattgl9WbqhBfEpjCc2MienNJbBvEX3FnYQ-8G85-Q9CxAQId2UZGabNB1FeNvIYFIryIbuII7V1dPsJc0dck5ldt0M0k/s1600/library+wine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsNFbKHf7RYBkvJ_b6x5Mimac-lBAgvIcpdx2MsCFxhzEZ5dattgl9WbqhBfEpjCc2MienNJbBvEX3FnYQ-8G85-Q9CxAQId2UZGabNB1FeNvIYFIryIbuII7V1dPsJc0dck5ldt0M0k/s400/library+wine.jpg" width="345" /></a></div>
Or, as my friend suggested, a clothing storage system with built in drawer organizers by design.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLoXNmPKhxtCz92oFbkbKw7nAInIrp-gQRgJTa_LSED7510TR2diUJ-p616H52_aDhTOErhazL7XMSXPT3CSXeIEw8XfARAY5Y4DNCwvK_nGNhhUz_cmvBwMd4ggLFUaFodX68ZTH39I/s1600/libraryryyy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLoXNmPKhxtCz92oFbkbKw7nAInIrp-gQRgJTa_LSED7510TR2diUJ-p616H52_aDhTOErhazL7XMSXPT3CSXeIEw8XfARAY5Y4DNCwvK_nGNhhUz_cmvBwMd4ggLFUaFodX68ZTH39I/s400/libraryryyy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Maybe, one day, when we live in a larger space, it will serve as a console ready to store serving ware and adorable napkins like these...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEaQIPEgbNZFGZbctzPOkA9CFf0FtF1CIYawab9Um8eap1CH87ZQmr639wwxbLjtCpC8ZbtSfiwfudJUqygHEb9NnOryqyqbVrhJToAVIKsNAJ-p77khj3Zw19ee6LmQw6YeTwNBg2oQI/s1600/9781324162193377_uxcz3YmX_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEaQIPEgbNZFGZbctzPOkA9CFf0FtF1CIYawab9Um8eap1CH87ZQmr639wwxbLjtCpC8ZbtSfiwfudJUqygHEb9NnOryqyqbVrhJToAVIKsNAJ-p77khj3Zw19ee6LmQw6YeTwNBg2oQI/s400/9781324162193377_uxcz3YmX_c.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<div>
Whatever it will hold, I am excited to look for ways to fill it!!</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-73367246045390774582012-11-01T09:57:00.000-07:002012-11-01T09:57:03.186-07:00Gratitude Well, apart from the FEMA trucks rolling through, the relentless news images of devastation, the constant sounds of sirens, and friends from downtown texting to arrange shower times at our apartment, one might almost think that NYC is back to normal from the vantage point in my neighborhood. <i>The New York Times</i> even goes so far as to describe the phenomenon as "two Manhattans." Since work has been cancelled and I have not had to deal with the transportation nightmare that currently exists here, it is surreal to think about the fact that this storm has caused over 80 deaths in the area and that there will be a long, hard road to recovery ahead. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-9048011142401099492012-10-30T11:18:00.001-07:002012-10-30T11:24:55.165-07:00Sandy's Aftermath Well, the storm is over here in New York City, but the arduous cleanup process has only just begun. We feel lucky up here on the East side of Manhattan since we are one of the only enclaves on the island that still has power.<br />
<div>
<i>Images from Yorkville:</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuD1E7Y7VdESwhwbpXXU8oLL1x6oV7etGsXmhg0PFiE3EYRYr9PdhW-7VVz3YmGWRdK-Wt693dt8gCSTToXTiUbsgRuk_3zwzZKtPnQe6SDwIf8ZbaaR961giSja5UPD_g6qhVJ1Dt2S8/s1600/fdr+closed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuD1E7Y7VdESwhwbpXXU8oLL1x6oV7etGsXmhg0PFiE3EYRYr9PdhW-7VVz3YmGWRdK-Wt693dt8gCSTToXTiUbsgRuk_3zwzZKtPnQe6SDwIf8ZbaaR961giSja5UPD_g6qhVJ1Dt2S8/s640/fdr+closed.jpg" width="432" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEdt7ldHdykxPSERDZHDSv5TFdE9KjA4GtzUK-qHXiKl91NX8ePQR9etBjGj2FOezB_i5T3w4b8KAe7pt19qUf-qvmpBcQaW87gGYFi8oS3dh_-z-7K_yW4uk25xYLzTqaZj6NTS-ju0/s1600/fallen+branches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEdt7ldHdykxPSERDZHDSv5TFdE9KjA4GtzUK-qHXiKl91NX8ePQR9etBjGj2FOezB_i5T3w4b8KAe7pt19qUf-qvmpBcQaW87gGYFi8oS3dh_-z-7K_yW4uk25xYLzTqaZj6NTS-ju0/s400/fallen+branches.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjITHDYusK2VzUBOmPPXqOXYiatPRCt488RhWmGovcETnJOIOWaXdBdyWjCGuqwPuQmMQ4vN0sHOehztoX8Wjpp2ZTfZFQV5k04RQ3b_1tXW3Yn85HoMzGTxXWaL5-BduJtZgKVKJkWyQc/s1600/twisted+signs+and+downed+trees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjITHDYusK2VzUBOmPPXqOXYiatPRCt488RhWmGovcETnJOIOWaXdBdyWjCGuqwPuQmMQ4vN0sHOehztoX8Wjpp2ZTfZFQV5k04RQ3b_1tXW3Yn85HoMzGTxXWaL5-BduJtZgKVKJkWyQc/s400/twisted+signs+and+downed+trees.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBFcpm4Ssq3li9ivCGHLzgFjzgT7iTZfvpKGdxdeRAr3CIJupaTp3RQRZUnhMh1L6p0UWPOjG_x3TKrcbnbk2N9crawy7q4b5MsvNupy4x3b3DkVrPT0qqYAsj568HdrlGQlhkYtU_OQ/s1600/useless+umbrellas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBFcpm4Ssq3li9ivCGHLzgFjzgT7iTZfvpKGdxdeRAr3CIJupaTp3RQRZUnhMh1L6p0UWPOjG_x3TKrcbnbk2N9crawy7q4b5MsvNupy4x3b3DkVrPT0qqYAsj568HdrlGQlhkYtU_OQ/s400/useless+umbrellas.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-n7W_3PA-Qe1_0wC9UsAUIP3gNPdd3VQ5eK-Q1boSFQIhNsPM0BwhFnlaNEtmp6Of9AVxyo1KM0rm3yGFgmEapGG6ac0AtHntnzXmHrhVIpgDRxWpbqXJBm8e9z1JXcG0IkMTSyG9PpI/s1600/tv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-n7W_3PA-Qe1_0wC9UsAUIP3gNPdd3VQ5eK-Q1boSFQIhNsPM0BwhFnlaNEtmp6Of9AVxyo1KM0rm3yGFgmEapGG6ac0AtHntnzXmHrhVIpgDRxWpbqXJBm8e9z1JXcG0IkMTSyG9PpI/s400/tv.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinSz6P8uWniWt8mfzbYE6e0W3kmQ8DQR7Wjp1lOHIrVQ-FcmdnbQDYfuob3DfqG9FF1a_XyCooyPiSLJAt5fwUmzG4aocYlrjGCV6SlkQq20yfwRpGfBuC3D8fWdSlIwG3izHYdvuK9-E/s1600/graffitti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinSz6P8uWniWt8mfzbYE6e0W3kmQ8DQR7Wjp1lOHIrVQ-FcmdnbQDYfuob3DfqG9FF1a_XyCooyPiSLJAt5fwUmzG4aocYlrjGCV6SlkQq20yfwRpGfBuC3D8fWdSlIwG3izHYdvuK9-E/s400/graffitti.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7FpguQKwAMNzXOrk2oioXJEM3OmorBBnV7vCMI_jZNISgKklzQu6NeTtfpW0dO8FpdELm0k1DSvXKOQaVLgQGJ6JMLc2JBMLERrcvg8lfBbC87MDzjz9uLa1VhlggjhahfPCu5_lArgM/s1600/fence+w+trees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7FpguQKwAMNzXOrk2oioXJEM3OmorBBnV7vCMI_jZNISgKklzQu6NeTtfpW0dO8FpdELm0k1DSvXKOQaVLgQGJ6JMLc2JBMLERrcvg8lfBbC87MDzjz9uLa1VhlggjhahfPCu5_lArgM/s640/fence+w+trees.jpg" width="432" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlRR2rXghJvar1ZPpnOnvPuwT_04vNKGzBnkfcWBkoIIVChxcSKSaAAa6TU1MiRs03txp6LoG8axUDX_0gqnTsGtSEUfn3t7gwckw_K4FmYPkvVDZTyi4BLT-PheH8xhpvtmgRwL19hU/s1600/bagels+open.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlRR2rXghJvar1ZPpnOnvPuwT_04vNKGzBnkfcWBkoIIVChxcSKSaAAa6TU1MiRs03txp6LoG8axUDX_0gqnTsGtSEUfn3t7gwckw_K4FmYPkvVDZTyi4BLT-PheH8xhpvtmgRwL19hU/s400/bagels+open.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
This has been called a historic storm and between the Con Edison explosion on 14th Street, the storm surges that left most of lower Manhattan flooded, the unprecedented three day school closures, and the fact that our subway system is so crippled they are saying it will take 4-5 days to have things up and running again, I would agree with that assessment. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Here are some photos from around Manhattan captured on <u>The New York Times</u> website: </i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0L1I4YThUxs5c-2vJYA7m6WVC5cJTanIwnzgT1G2P8j2q4lYftfSmRl74iZWrhe4oRJjYYnswzAJ1POfA9JvKKuv6aLrAWvu2Bo8g7UJatApqWMYP0T9k91J8jTSRNy7phaYN0l33GtM/s1600/ny+times+ave+c.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0L1I4YThUxs5c-2vJYA7m6WVC5cJTanIwnzgT1G2P8j2q4lYftfSmRl74iZWrhe4oRJjYYnswzAJ1POfA9JvKKuv6aLrAWvu2Bo8g7UJatApqWMYP0T9k91J8jTSRNy7phaYN0l33GtM/s320/ny+times+ave+c.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrndPkhyN0eUdI8zk7LgX9wzCX2lQOpliUzOBhm79njqAewjeVV6axumFt8aQ4NrB9eY6STZtIiML1r4DDDhWitpKkK5dOGPWT__vFba6Zw2U1_wVqDgneL8O_JxACCD93kRORRN-yYe4/s1600/storm+facade.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrndPkhyN0eUdI8zk7LgX9wzCX2lQOpliUzOBhm79njqAewjeVV6axumFt8aQ4NrB9eY6STZtIiML1r4DDDhWitpKkK5dOGPWT__vFba6Zw2U1_wVqDgneL8O_JxACCD93kRORRN-yYe4/s320/storm+facade.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2_iE74fQ1usGsaIA9TFFK1qI0NJWKoOXLBfnG2cO6DBXQV8KYVsk1gkErLp68fRF0O4PRxOXIXhs2KJyeDNxwHVWkiOxdE5IuVX9QKa34Bfc6bRkwMSvXfOI0lHw72k7g0fCqs3a20s/s1600/uws.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2_iE74fQ1usGsaIA9TFFK1qI0NJWKoOXLBfnG2cO6DBXQV8KYVsk1gkErLp68fRF0O4PRxOXIXhs2KJyeDNxwHVWkiOxdE5IuVX9QKa34Bfc6bRkwMSvXfOI0lHw72k7g0fCqs3a20s/s320/uws.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
While the storm has been devastating here and along much of the East Coast, something that has been really lovely to see is that, with the subway at a standstill, people are pretty much stuck in their neighborhoods and, moreover, since the larger chain stores are mostly staffed with people who come from outside the neighborhood, it is only the small, local places that are open. There is something nice about seeing all of the Starbucks closed and only the most local of the local places operating. Neighbors are checking on elderly neighbors. People are helping police and emergency workers clear debris. Coffee shops are filled with neighborhood folk catching up on local gossip and recounting "Sandy stories." I guess that the wonderful sense of community is the silver lining in all of the damages, outages, and closings.<br />
<br />
Here's hoping everyone is staying safe, warm, and dry...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3295989181302836956.post-12173325214022510032012-10-29T10:21:00.001-07:002012-10-29T11:05:38.816-07:00Halloween Hurricane Last year Halloween brought a freakish snowstorm that left much of my home state of Connecticut without power for a week. This year, Hurricane Sandy is scheduled to arrive with high winds, two days of school cancellations, a paralyzed subway, and mandated evacuations in "zone A" of New York City. Before the storm though, my friends and I had a fun Halloween bash on Saturday to commemorate my favorite holiday. Hopefully, the weather will be better in time for the village Halloween parade on Wednesday, but if it is not, I am happy that I got to celebrate before the storm.<br />
<br />
I don't sew, but I do love making halloween costumes. My trusty glue gun always saves the day on Halloween! This year, after much debate about whether or not to go political, I decided to be an entirely apolitical peacock. I went to the craft store in between the end of parent/teacher conferences on Friday and our after work happy hour. I bought feathers, tulle, and glitter glue and wasn't exactly sure what I was going to do with these materials, but knew I would figure something out! On Saturday before my friends arrived, I went to H & M and bought a really inexpensive peacock blue dress.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG1AKn4d5NVzGjNCC-UoeRvStCLYcAjmkLPpK84TXSXuz8WfbUtK8ud3w-rMgaATRUeR8-IrZloFaJXPTzW9QCApA1Vj4nKPFbrNbuM_mqZ1bD5OMXfjJVu9n9kWGeQ_UxWGsThO_sJIE/s1600/peacokc.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG1AKn4d5NVzGjNCC-UoeRvStCLYcAjmkLPpK84TXSXuz8WfbUtK8ud3w-rMgaATRUeR8-IrZloFaJXPTzW9QCApA1Vj4nKPFbrNbuM_mqZ1bD5OMXfjJVu9n9kWGeQ_UxWGsThO_sJIE/s1600/peacokc.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE4zydXHbd6uSuvZ47-nizMvrtlFxj_1YjVs-8RGb2Zv0cuIQFzNlC3T0rnb9CSwAXU4WfveaB7vmIoOpQ3k57M3O8f5NdU1A5wXDtAlnTFE-9DqIVdjGaNjGf9-G6BEv9PrkARIuVGUo/s1600/pop.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE4zydXHbd6uSuvZ47-nizMvrtlFxj_1YjVs-8RGb2Zv0cuIQFzNlC3T0rnb9CSwAXU4WfveaB7vmIoOpQ3k57M3O8f5NdU1A5wXDtAlnTFE-9DqIVdjGaNjGf9-G6BEv9PrkARIuVGUo/s1600/pop.jpeg" /></a></div>
Armed with these materials, I constructed my peacock costume just in time for my friend's arrival when they safety pinned the panels for my tail onto my dress and stuck tons of feathers into my hair. Oh how I love halloween!!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89DCI5EqfDXaH_04nps4K0cpoqaGWd1kW5xrbPnTLsyYRXvbx2ROvICqjjEe7_P59HehI-5Km63peEvoUGx7hnU3IaBb3TlwslN6mf1KB-BNhgMvAgzhnL1UFU8JsgwmnzCXPiKsli8Q/s1600/halloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89DCI5EqfDXaH_04nps4K0cpoqaGWd1kW5xrbPnTLsyYRXvbx2ROvICqjjEe7_P59HehI-5Km63peEvoUGx7hnU3IaBb3TlwslN6mf1KB-BNhgMvAgzhnL1UFU8JsgwmnzCXPiKsli8Q/s320/halloween.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The Finished Product</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Q2k8rwQhsZtmeGp5WprIwa_-DS0FE19nqPn462y_WQJzZ1k2PZuldpE0VDW-QeCubExZdxpCEirE8Zka1b9Xb51UqmQQXzm-0UIAqE_0LrqiFPJ8E-V2WodXohqjmUUNiCAiEztkw_o/s1600/photo.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Q2k8rwQhsZtmeGp5WprIwa_-DS0FE19nqPn462y_WQJzZ1k2PZuldpE0VDW-QeCubExZdxpCEirE8Zka1b9Xb51UqmQQXzm-0UIAqE_0LrqiFPJ8E-V2WodXohqjmUUNiCAiEztkw_o/s1600/photo.jpeg" /></a></div>
<i>My friend's boyfriend did go political. I think he regretted that </i><br />
<i>after hearing the first 5,000 comments from M. and I</i></div>
Hours after my friends left on Sunday, we heard that the subway would be shut down and school cancelled in anticipation of Hurricane Sandy. This morning, as the wind picked up outside, M. and I took a walk down to the East River since we will likely be stuck inside most of the rest of the day. The FDR is already flooded and the hurricane has not even hit yet, so that is a little disconcerting. New Yorkers being New Yorkers are of course still outside wandering around. The FDR was crawling with people walking across the closed down highway. As I type, someone is playing "Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away" on the saxophone--only in New York!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuLyWvGJvFL19dRmEl3H8tUTtxrEiVDHwuUQ4NHEKoPhE2lx-5qpJC7NsL7lH1H7LR4jRjhj5MQVzg_8ERAEX90uHG0CS93jNEaPjLjyQQ6ZC9bpdIJRrpumwAHJoMvFfOM2PKdKeKdF0/s1600/hurricane+sandy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuLyWvGJvFL19dRmEl3H8tUTtxrEiVDHwuUQ4NHEKoPhE2lx-5qpJC7NsL7lH1H7LR4jRjhj5MQVzg_8ERAEX90uHG0CS93jNEaPjLjyQQ6ZC9bpdIJRrpumwAHJoMvFfOM2PKdKeKdF0/s320/hurricane+sandy.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Stay safe, warm, and dry everyone and good luck weathering "Frankenstorm!"<br />
<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09145368711385538081noreply@blogger.com0