luck be a lady

If you want something to happen and in your favor, is there a certain prayer you say, a special dress you wear, swear that if this one thing happens that you will fulfill a certain promise in return? I have one item that I keep with me for luck. On days where I have a big presentation, somewhere to be or a date to keep, I wear a necklace that holds an emblem of Saint Christopher. Historically this saint holds patronage of things related to travel and travelers.

I'm not a religious person but I do believe in karma and luck. I understand fully that my necklace isn't a safeguard against any sort of mishaps and misfortunes but it has become something that takes the edge off days where I know I have a zillion things to do and places to be. Smaller than a dime, hanging from a thin silver chain, it gives me confidence and ease to not worry and let things just take their course and hopefully bring me a little bit of luck when I hit a bump in the road.

sticks and stones

The moment before you know pain will hit. Your heart quickens, every muscle in your body tenses up, you can hear your pulse in your ears, you feel it in your throat. Adrenaline kicks in and you feel a rush to the head, a flip to your stomach. You close your eyes and you wait.

It hits. It's horrendous. It's the worst pain you've felt in your entire life and you are sure that this is the most pain you will ever feel. You're flooded with emotions of fear and agony. You yell, you scream, moan, shout, cry, sob, anything to release the tension that filled your muscles moments before and fills your body now with pain.

You breathe, you react, you act. You analyze the damage. You put yourself through an instant physical and mental pop quiz. Where am I, who am I, can I hear, see, taste, count to 10. Flex your fingers, flex your toes, work into the center of your body from the furthest points. Wrists and ankles, elbows and knees, hips and shoulders, head and heart. And suddenly you begin to search for a solution to end the pain or subdue it.

Slow down.

Haven't you already began to forget about the initial pain? The first hit that knocked the wind out of you and why you tensed up in the first place. Why is it that only moments after pain subsides that our minds, our bodies, begin to forget the sensation of pain? Is it in fact a "mind over matter" type of situation where instantly we move mentally to the furthest point away from the pain? Do those with a greater pain index just have the ability to get to that point in our minds more quickly than others? Do some stay in the place where pain resonates longer?

I am both agile and clumsy. I can walk up to you without you noticing because my feet barely make any sound but as I'm walking the chance of me first clipping my elbow on a door frame or twisting my ankle are more than likely. I am emotionally balanced in the same way. I am stubborn yet sensitive. You can challenge my beliefs and question my intentions but look at me wrong and it's o-v-e-r. I have gotten myself to a point where I feel I am able to recover more quickly from physical pain. Most of it has to do with moving away from home and having to deal with incidents with responsibility because no one else is there if I have a meltdown. I need to get myself to the point where I analyze the damage quicker so that no further pain ensues. Here's where I struggle though, I am unable to get myself to a point where I recover from emotional pain. My odds on a broken bone and a broken heart are on the bone. I will be able to forget the physical pain quickly but the emotional pain will pull me down, toss me back up and fill me with anxiety and sobering distress. I remember my parents reminding me that "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" in middle school when I was having a hard time dealing with your typical mean girl hell. I remember looking at them and wanting to call their bullshit. I am strong enough for sticks and stones, it's words that go straight through me.

something on your face

One of the most vivid memories from my childhood is of my mom putting makeup on me for my ballet rehearsals. I remember the blush, the subtle eye shadow, a little lipstick and most of all, the cat-eye liner. I remember looking in a mirror thinking that this is how ladies should look. This is how I should look. It isn't much of a surprise that 20-some years later that I end up in the beauty industry.

I've tried most looks and trends but always come back to the classic look that was established by my mom many years ago. I've found a collection of products and brands that are my go-to. I defend my spending since I am not a clothes or shoes type of girl but rather a beauty junkie. Instead of purchasing many different products to figure out what I love, I've learned to ask for samples. Out of all those samples there are 6 products that I use daily. Clockwise: MOR Lip Macaron, Chanel Eyeshadow, NARS Lip Pencil, Clinque Eyeliner, Dior Mascara and Benefit High Beam

do the macaroni

Perfect for a cool day or just a day where you need some comfort in the form of food. This simple recipe was easy, quick and delish. We haven't had the coldest winter (thus far anyway) but that's no reason to not enjoy winter-like food. Enjoy.

cheesy baked pasta with spinach and artichokes
real simple magazine, april 2012

serves 4

8 ounces mezzi rigatoni or some other short pasta (1/2 box)
1 14-ounce can artichoke hearts, rinsed and quartered
1 9-ounce package of frozen creamed spinach, thawed
1/4 cup grated parmesan (1 ounce)
2 cups grated mozzarella (8 ounces)
black pepper and salt to taste

Cook the pasta according to the package directions, drain and set in broiler proof baking dish. Add in the artichoke hearts, spinach, parmesan, half the mozzarella, pepper and salt. Toss to combine. Sprinkle the remaining mozzarella on top. Broil until the cheese is browned in spots, 2-3 minutes.

the uncontrol

Everyone deals with change differently. Some embrace it, some go unfazed and some, like myself, bottle up their anxiety and resistance against it until finally some unlucky soul has to deal with the overflow. There's been so much change lately that I feel like I'm on a moving platform. You know the ones at the airport that allow you to move more quickly to get from gate to gate? I'm constantly hopping from one to another and in the middle when I'm actually on the steady ground I'm left with the feeling that the ground is still moving beneath me.

It began in July with a new job. Not only a new job but a whole other aspect of design. Once that felt semi-manageable, there was the semi-break-up of my quasi-boyfriend. In an emotional cul-de-sac, it mutually ended due to irreconcilable differences. With that change was the friction of friends involved that I didn't see coming. Soon thereafter came the announcement that my fabulous roommate was moving out and moving in with her boyfriend. I straddled a line of being extremely happy for her and extremely anxious over the thought of having to move. Add in November and the holidays to follow. While some begin to play holiday music the day after Halloween, I am one of those that avoids it all together. Your parents tell you that your cat got hit by a car and this is your first Christmas where your sister isn't staying home with you at your parents but rather at her own home. Finally add in meeting someone who for the first time in the longest time makes Miss Control (me) feel completely out of control.

Everything always seems so minuscule once it's over and dealt with. Fears and anxieties fade, plans are set and achieved. To-do lists get made, added to and finally crossed off. Not one to make resolutions that can easily be phased out within a week or even a month I feel that there is one to be made for the year. In most situations I realize that I find myself wanting to control every aspect and the outcome. The truth is I can't control them. I know this yet still I dwell. I dwell on the things I can not control, the people I can not reach, the situations that I can not change. This year and going forward I will keep in mind that what's done is done. The past is the past and while it amounts to the present, it doesn't have to influence it. Sometimes I just have to let go. This is me, letting go little by little. Happy 2012.

what's yours is mine

In a hurry to get out of the apartment and to the gym before laziness sets in, I quickly nabbed a shirt from my dresser. Halfway down the hall and halfway on my body I realized that it wasn't my shirt. It was mine because it was in my room buried under sweaters and random gym attire but it was more a relic of the past.

More than once I've found items that once belonged to boyfriends. Shirts, socks and/or sweaters show up unannounced and at moments where I'd rather they stay hidden in my drawer. They are those pieces that I used to wear to brunch Sunday when I was too lazy to put on my own tighter, more "fashionable" clothes. Items that smelled familiar and warm. Memories of running to get ice cream in the middle of the night because it went well with the movie we were watching and dressing head to toe in his clothes.

I think one of the most ridiculous things about a breakup is the "getting together of the things." I've always thought to just leave them and forget about it but the thought of me leaving and my things remaining always felt awkward and wrong. I'd rather clear the cabinet out rather than someone else having to. The problem is you can never get rid of it all and much like the memories that remain so does that one shirt that you happen to grab on a day where you already weren't feeling up to par. Well whatever, I put it on anyway and even though it no longer smells like him and all I'm doing is running errands or to the gym at least I know that it still fits and maybe one day I'll return it. But then again, maybe not.

mr. & miss perfect

Picture your perfect someone. What they look like, how they speak, where they come from, what they do, how they smell, how they address you, how they interact with your friends and most importantly, your family. That person is put in front of you. They come with a full resume of ideas and skills that align with what you imagine to be your perfect match. No bullshit. No games. No second guesses.

They take you to the perfect restaurants. Pull out your chair, order the most delicious wine that compliments both the food, the atmosphere and somehow even your outfit. You do things like sit next to each other rather than across from each other. Something that before doing it yourself you thought was ridiculous but now it's totally grand because your next to your perfect person. You have conversations that lead to similar thoughts and interests of how things should be.

They're casual but confident and they choose you - and you are there faced with the easy task of nodding yes and being with that perfect someone that you've had your eye and heart out for all along. And then you realize that not only did you think up your perfect someone but also your perfect you.

You look down to see that your sock has a hole. Your hair is messy and unkempt from the day. Your nails are chipped. You have days where you'd rather not get out of bed and whole weeks were you struggle to keep it together. You spill things, you drop things...you constantly drop things. You're not perfect. You put so much thought into the perfect someone that you completely forgot that you are not.

I should have fessed up earlier but who doesn't love playing the most perfect rendition of themselves for the most perfect rendition of the one they know. When the shine wore off and the real shone through I wasn't so sure perfect would stick around so I made the choice for them. Who wants to be perfect anyway.

a week in brief

Stopping in briefly before I head into another meeting. The time between Halloween and New Years always flies by. Hopefully next week will be a little more calm and I can come back and blog about some things I've been thinking about. Here's a quick glimpse though of what I've been drinking, eating, listening to and smelling like. More soon, promise! Start right, top and go clockwise: Bottega Veneta, l'Occitane sheer butter hand cream, Softlips in Vanilla, San Pellegrino Spring Natural Mineral Water, "Sway" by The Kooks, Fage greek yogurt

google it

I google everything. If I don't know how to spell something, if I am at a fancy restaurant and want to know what the hell cardamom is, if I'm looking for a semi-specific place that's around the corner from that place I went once but don't know the name of. Anything and everything. You type it into the magic box and it appears uncomplicated at your finger tips. It's a blessing and a curse.

I remember arguing with my father about getting a smart phone. "Why do I need the internet on my phone, that's so unnecessary. Can we just pick one and go?" I loathe shopping for phones, it's the one thing that if you ask me to do that can bring me to tears within seconds. But now I realize that a smart phone = google, which means at any time I can figure out where I am in this city and how the hell to get home. I also love after an especially wonderful night out with friends looking back to my google history that has had little gems like "Miss Mary Mack Hand Clap."

Have you ever looking at your google history or tried to record it for the day? It's the most bizarre set of words and when you throw them all together it always sounds awkward and inappropriate. Or maybe that's me...

Today's google items thus far: marlboro, pigeon, fun house, the naked and famous - punching in a dream and prohibition

smoke signals

 I awoke with a thought and part of a dream - what if I sent smoke signals? 

I quickly feel back to sleep until my alarm buzzed again. The thought stayed with me throughout the day. A S.O.S. to friends, B.B.L. to roommates, I.L.Y to family and loved ones. But with all that smoke, my signal is sure to get lost and misinterpreted with the signals of others.

How do you signal complicated thoughts and messages? If you had to break down what you were trying to say to another person in the simplest form, would we all be better off? Less beating around the bush and straight to the point? Yes. No. Now. Later. Has making it easier to send messages via phone, text, email, tweet, etc. actually made it harder for us to communicate?

I'm working on simplifying my life. With materials things, with my friendships, relationships, my entire self. Let's get to the point. I can't help feel that with all these complicated signals flying around that I'm losing my message in all the smoke.

november

Always. Every year I think that I'm going to get through the entire month without falling into a sinkhole of bitterness and angst but November has proven me wrong again. It's been months since I've had the hole-in-my-chest-the-world-is-falling-apart feeling but I awoke with it Saturday night and haven't been able to kick it since. I felt it creeping in last weekend and tried to run it out of my system. 4 days and 20 miles later all I ended up with was extremely sore feet and an absurdly painful calf cramp. I almost made it the entire month. See you in December.

scrumptious scone

I've been busy catching up on my New York life since I've returned from my month of travels. Playing catch up means that I'm back to cooking and baking, or at least trying to. I'm good at pulling and saving recipes but that's often as far as it goes. This past Sunday I set out to make scones. I'm a breakfast/brunch fanatic so it only seemed fitting to learn how to bake the perfect scone. Originally the recipe came from Epicurious.com. With minor tweaks and a whole lot of mess, my scones came out semi-perfect. It is of my own belief that they would have been 100% perfect if I had more counter space to work in and an oven that wasn't comparable to Barbies. The recipe is below with my added changes. This weekend I hope to try a vanilla, blueberry batch. Cheers!

Lemon Cream Scones
Bon Appétit, May 1996

Ingredients
*revisions/tweaks I made
2 cups all purpose flour
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt
*3/4 cup chopped dried peaches (originally apricots)
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1 1/4 cups whipping cream
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
*1/2 lemon to squeeze into dough
   
Preparation
Preheat oven to 425°F. Mix 2 cups flour, 1/4 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon baking powder and 1/2 teaspoon salt in large bowl. Stir in apricots and 1 tablespoon lemon peel. Add whipping cream and stir just until dough forms. This is where I squeezed in some fresh lemon juice to add more lemon flavor. Turn dough out onto lightly floured surface. Knead gently just until dough holds together. Form dough into 10-inch-diameter, 1/2-inch-thick round. Cut into 12 wedges.

Transfer wedges to large baking sheet, spacing evenly. Combine remaining 2 tablespoons sugar and 1 teaspoon lemon peel in small bowl. Brush scones with melted butter. Sprinkle with sugar mixture. Bake scones until light golden brown, about 15 minutes. Transfer to rack and cool slightly. (Can be prepared 1 day ahead. Cool completely. Wrap in foil; store at room temperature.) Serve scones warm or at room temperature.