The Metaphorical Magpie

T.M.I.

Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: could caramel apple be an option?
--Dyed or Natural: au natural
--Curly or Straight: wavy
Right- or Left-handed: left
Tan or Pale: Pale. When I read Anne of Green Gables I decided I wanted to have an "alabaster brow," too. The sun and I don't agree.
Jeans or Khakis: Jeans
Country, Rap, or Rock: I think you can find great things in all genres, even if you don't appreciate it all. You can't say no to Loretta Lynn or Patsy Cline. Or Tribe Called Quest or Led Zeppelin. Am I right?
Heritage: With both parents being adopted that is speculated on but unclear. I like to think I am a citizen of the world.
Shoes you're wearing today: Awesome gold booties. They make me feel cool.
Your weakness(es): Dogs that need petting, new ingredients, friends who pout, rummage sales
Your perfect pizza: whole wheat crust, sausage, pepper, mushroom onion. With sprinklings of garlic powder, oregano and hot pepper. Or anything Dom at  DiFara's wanted to set in front of me.
Favorite color: apple green, turquoise, fuschia, dove grey. One color is not enough.
Favorite place: I'll say in general I really love hiking to a waterfall. I've been to many and they are all special.
Goal you'd like to achieve: Professional Reinvention
Your most overused phrase(s): MMM, K???
Your thoughts first waking up: I can't believe the alarm clock is going off already
Your best physical feature(s): I like my eyes. And my tiny feet.
Your bedtime: 12:30
Your most missed memory:  Any of my father. I have so few.
Pepsi or Coke: Pepsi
McDonald's or Burger King: In and Out Burger. it sucks that there are none in my part of the country
Single or group dates: I usually only dated one dude at a time. Anymore would be kinda freaky deaky :)
Adidas or Nike: Adidas
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Only fresh brewed passes these lips
Chocolate or vanilla: chocolate
Cappuccino or coffee: coffee

DO YOU:
Smoke: no
Cuss: at least hourly. Especially at work.
Have a boyfriend/girlfriend: Honey, I got me a man. MMM K?
Take a shower:  usually. But baths are great sometimes.
Have a crush(es): Craig Ferguson. I'll be his naughty monkey forever.
Dr. Cornell West. He is one of the most intelligent, profound, dapper and charismatic people to ever exist.  Watch this. You'll get it.I saw him on a plane once and I almost peed my pants. Really. I love this man.
Think you've been in love:  I am. Absolutely.
Want to get married: Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. And it fits me great.
Believe in yourself: Yes
Believe in God: At about the age of five I realized it didn't make sense to me and it never really did after that. I respect other people's faith. I'm curious about what they believe.
Believe in your government:  At this juncture, not so much. But in a few months, it could get much much better if we all come together and try to make a change. 
Get motion sickness:  I don't think so
Think you're attractive: I have my moments
Think you're a health freak: Me? No. Aware. Yes. Concerned. Yup. Freak. No.
Get along with your parents:  Mother, Step-Mother, Mother in Law, Father-in Law. The whole shebang.
Like thunderstorms: Very much.

IN THE PAST MONTH, HAVE YOU:
Drunk alcohol: Yes. And I've decided to stop drinking.
Gone on a date:  Ice cream and a walk on the boardwalk
Gone to the mall: Uncharacteristically, yes. 
Been on stage: no but that sounds like fun
Eaten an entire box of Oreos:  no
Eaten sushi:  I think so
Been dumped: does having your job let you know it's just not that into you ( and about 199 other employees) count?
Gone skating:  no
Gone skinny dipping:  I don't even swim
Stolen anything:   that would be very naughty.

HAVE YOU EVER:
Played a game that required removal of clothing: Not that I can recall. If you can, please don't remind me.
Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: I think the bachelorette party would qualify
Been caught "doing something": okay, okay, you caught me
Been called a tease: called one? I am one   
Gotten beaten up: no
Age you hope to be married:  I 've signed on to the 29 For Life plan
Number of children you'd like: one would be fine
Describe your dream wedding: We had it. Look for yourself.
What do you want to be when you grow up: I'm trying to work that out right now
 

WHAT YOU LIKE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX:
Best eye color?:
Best hair color?: 
Short or long hair:
Height:
Best first date location:
Best first kiss location:

IN THE NUMBERS:
Number of people I could trust with my life: 3
Number of CD's: close to 1,000
Number of piercings: 2- ears
Number of tattoos:  0
Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper: Considering I've worked for them for close to 20 years, the number is low.But honestly, I don't know.
Number of scars on my body: 3 that I can think of.

Friday Dance Party: Labor Day Weekend edition

I've been thinking alot this week about the days I used to go out dancing all the time. The last few years of high school and the first few of college, going dancing was something I worked my schedule around. I would go out on Thursday nights at the Fast Lanes for the alternative rock nights dj'd by local radio station WHTG host John Yarusi. Or, there were countless nights dancing on the teensy floor at the Green Parrot in Neptune. Another dj from the radio station, Bart Cross-Tierney would spin there. He was a gruff guy but I amused him. He called me "The Nine Inch Nails Girl" and if it was early and slow, he'd play the entire Pretty Hate Machine record for me. Which I would dance to in its entirety and then keep dancing all night to whatever else he wanted to play. It was in that club that I met Trent Reznor for the first time which started a crazy string of events that is a story for another day.

The dancing then was the main thing. I was unstoppable.I would dance for hour and hours. I would dance even if I was the only one dancing. I needed to dance that bad.  I would drive an hour to little places in Newark's Ironbound where I learned to slam dance at a time girls just weren't out there doing it. I needed to keep moving physically. I needed to feel the weight of someone else's weight pushed upon me at that time to remind me I was alive and to encourage me to push back, defend myself,  keep living and keep dancing. Those years were hard and dancing kept me sane.

One song I loved to dance to back then was "Grey Cell Green" by Ned's Atomic Dustbin. I still love it. Listening to it today, I still feel this swelling in my chest and the urge to start moving across the room. I remember how I would sing along to the words as I danced and I still want to do that. To tell myself that "it's inside me." Today I need to remember that.

Today I am not dancing by myself.

M. Heart has joined me.

And so has sweet  Shannon.

Heather decided she can dance

Post a song on your site today during the whole long weekend  and I'll link to you, too.

"You can dance ... for inspiration...C'mon"

"I'm tired of dancing all by myself. Tonight, I wanna dance with someone else." ~ Madonna

Who wants to get in on the Friday Dance Party?

Post your own video or song tomorrow, let me know, and I'll link to you from the Labor Day Weekend edition of the Friday Dance Party.

Bust a move, peeps!

Tomatoes: A Gazillion Ways

It seems everywhere I turn I am hearing tomato tales of woe. When I start to question what might be the problem, I'm finding there is the misconception that tomatoes don't require regular watering. Or sun. Or food. Or that junk food like MiracleGro is okay: shudder. We started our garden this year with minimal knowledge, a shovel, curiosity to see what would happen and a book on organic gardening. We now have more tomatoes than we know what to do with. Honestly. This is not a fricking joke. I may suffer from a lycopene overdose.

I came home from work one night  to be met by Sweets who frantically announced we needed to pick tomatoes. NOW. This is the dude who assured me we could never have too many tomatoes. Not even a possibility.

We started harvesting tomatoes the way we normally do. By turning up the bottom of our shirts and cradling the fruit. Both of our shirts turned tomato slings were full and there were many more bobbing bits of red floating in the sea of tomato plants. So a bowl was fetched. That night's harvest weighed fifteen pounds. Sweets then announced we needed to make tomato sauce. NOW. So we did. Six quarts that went into our new freezer which was purchased specifically to handle such produce emergencies.

Yet there were more. Shirt or apron loads ( above) are coming in each day. We are packing up brown lunch sacks of them and leaving them on our neighbor's doorstep with notes signed with x's and o's. And on Cyndemouse's kitchen counter when we had a barbecue feast there over the weekend.

For my birthday, J-Po gave me a gift certificate to my favorite local cheesemonger, Cheese on Main, in Ocean Grove. They don't have a website unfortunately. We popped into the store and when Susan the owner asked what we were in the mood for, I told her something to pair with a tomato explosion. Thanks to J-Po's generosity, we were able to bag up several choices. A ricotta salata was a nice choice for eating along with a plate of cherry tomatoes or a tomato tart hot from the oven. Piave, a cow's milk cheese, has become a staple in our house. Not quite as hard or aged as a parmesan, it is super, super tasty. We sampled the tallegio in the case but it seemed gummy to me. Then Susan offered us a new cheese, called Grayson. It's made by Meadow Creek Farm in Virginia. It recently snagged some awards at the American Cheese Society conference and in my mouth, too!!!

This is the second attempt at a tomato tart. Both were damned tasty. The first featured three varieties of tomatoes. We gobbled it up before I thought to document it. This one featured heirloom yellow pear tomatoes which have a bright flavor. It's  paired with zucchini. It takes a flash to arrange the slices on a defrosted puff pastry. Be sure to score a line about an inch in from the outside for the crust to puff up. I topped this one witha drizzling of olive oil, sea salt, cracked pepper,and fresh lemon thyme and oregano from the garden. Bake in a 350 degree oven until the pastry puffs and goes golden. The tomatoes will become immensely sweet from roasting.

There have also been BLT's. Sweets' father works in the bacon business, so we use his brand. I was trying to hold off on buying any bacon until we go to see the family at Thanksgiving. But a girl has to get her BLT on when the urge strikes.

This weekend, I think we'll make our own whole wheat pizza dough and turn out some tomato pies.

So far, I'm still having a love affair with the tomatoes. Which is good because there is no sign of slowing down out there on the vines.

What have you been doing with your tomatoes this summer?

Friday Dance, Dance, Dance Party

My copy of the new  Lykke Li record Youth Novels arrived in the mail yesterday. Sweets pre-ordered it for me because he is awesome. Last week's Friday dance party was so much fun, I decided to continue the movement.

Today I offer you a pretty video for  the track "Dance, Dance, Dance."

I'm loving the lyrics, too.

Having troubles telling how I feel
But I can dance, dance  dance
Couldn't possibly tell you how I mean
But I can dance, dance, dance
So when I trip on my feet
Look at the beat
The words are, written in the sand
When I'm shaking my hips
Look for the swing
The words are, written in the air

Dance
I was a dancer all along
Dance, dance, dance
Words can never make up for what you do

Easy conversations, there's no such thing
No I'm shy, shy, shy
My hips they lie 'cause in reality I'm shy, shy, shy
But when I trip on my feet
Look at the ground
The words are, written in the dust
When I'm shaking my hips
Look for the swing
The words are written in the air

Dance
I was a dancer all along
Dance, dance, dance
Words can never make up for what you do
Dance, dance, dance

What is moving you today, my friends?

Here, kitty, kitty

My latest video creation was posted online yesterday. Remember that 44 lb cat that turned up in a South Jersey animal shelter last month? A couple called the newspaper to tell us their cat had to be be bigger. They estimated it to be 78 lbs! So I was dispatched, with my video camera and a bathroom scale to get to the bottom of this weighty issue. Watch the video to learn how much Big Boy the cat really weighed.

High School Time Machine

Kim at Something to Say always has the best link-i-dinks. I couldn't resist this post linking to Yearbook Yourself. Just upload a mug of yourself and you can try out yearbook photo looks from the 50's to the 90's. Here are some of my most favorite looks I could have had. Yeah, I was born at the wrong time.

This one kind of reminds me of my favorite portrait of my Grams.

 

Moe than slightly Church Lady ala Dana Carvey but I'm lovin' the cat eye frames.

This is beyond fierce.

What? Too much?

Friday Dance Party

Life in general is giving me such aggra this week that I really need a dance party to get it outta my system. This track "Light and Music" by Cut Copy has been my soundtrack today. I think it's reminiscent of New Order, which I started the week out with. Makes me nostalgic for all those nights spent twirling under blinking lights for hours upon hours as we raved til dawn. I used to go out dancing up to three nights a week. Being on the dance floor, alone, working it out, saved me from a lot of damage over the years. These days I'm mostly tearing up the kitchen floor. We've got tickets to see Cut Copy at the Bowet Ballroom in a few weeks so I'll have a new floor to dance on.

Getting my feet wet

I've finally had a video posted in a Ledger Live broadcast today. Who-hoo!!! Yesterday, I spent a few hours at a gorgeous Olympic pool in Newark doing a video report on Olympic swimmer, Cullen Jones', childhood swim coach. Afterwards, many more hours went to editing and voicing the segment.

Take a look at the video. I'd love to hear your feedback. The full Ledger Live show for today can also be viewed. It includes a fascinating piece about bees.

Cullen Jones swim coach keeps teaching

It just so happens that learning how to swim is #33 on my 101 Things in 1001 Days list. Yesterday, Coach Bradley invited me back to the pool for a private swim lesson. He promised in one hour he could teach me how to swim enough at least to save myself. Which is something I am pretty sure I'd be unable to do on my own. I asked what I would need for the lesson. He told me a bathing suit, a bathing cap, shoes to wear around the pool and a little bit of courage. That last item is the one I'm having the most trouble finding.

It does seem pretty cool to have the coach of an Olympian show me the ropes, or the strokes. I can even do a first person piece for the paper on my experience. It's just that courage that is holding me back. What do y'all think? Should I take the dive?
 

Blue Monday

Is there anyone who likes Mondays? Honestly? After two days of sleeping in, it's back to bleary eyes and the usual B.S.

Classic New Order may help bolster my spirits. And a huge cup of coffee.

Believe it

A few months ago, Marilyn wrote a post that I just love, love, loved and she just reposted it again with a Flickr mosaic. What a fab idea. I've got to jump in with my own list. How about you?

1. 92/366: April 1st (Cherries and Cream), 2. Day 227, 3. earl grey, 4. The First Letter/The Power of Writing, 5. Sunset Lit Lilac, 6. Astrology, L'Homme Anatomique, 7. wet paint, 8. photobooth, 9. Little Street Artist

I believe maraschino cherries are the best medicine for heartache...I believe I have the best friends in the galaxy...I believe in eyelash wishes...I believe in evolution... I believe children should be seen AND heard... I believe lilacs smell like love... I believe I can predict the weather... I believe in truth and candor... I believe no person should go hungry... I believe in mentoring our youth... I believe there is no such thing as having too many boxes of tea... I believe in the relevance of personal correspondence... I believe in sharing... I believe we can try again tomorrow if today didn't work out too great... I believe a picture really IS worth a thousand words... I believe in the underdogs... I believe a fresh coat of paint can fix just about anything...I believe gardening is worth the effort... I believe in astrology...I believe Yiddish is the coolest language... I believe other cultures are worth exploring... I believe in stopping to pet dogs on the street

She's lost her head

One thing I've thought about doing if a need for a new career arises is voice work.  Today I was asked to do a fun little snippet on the Ledger Live broadcast. I got to be the voice of a doll that has lost her head. It was a bright spot in my day. My bit comes in at about the 3 minutes mark if you want to cut to the chase but the whole broadcast is cool if you have the time.

Take back the lawn

We spent the earlier part of the summer removing the last portion of lawn from our front yard. We decided to experiment with mixing vegetables into the already terraced beds that were once dedicated to flowers only. There between the roses and hydrangeas, poppies and echinaceas, we found there was plenty of room to turn over to food crops enough to feed us. It is not our goal to eat exclusively from our garden but it is rewarding to know exactly where that ingredient came from. The area we most recently de-grassed now has a stone pathway using recycled stones. We are gradually adding shrubs and flowers to add interest and beauty through the season.

I found a link to this video on Mark Bittman of the New York Times ever illuminating food blog, Bitten. The video is part of a campaign to start a garden on the lawn of the White House. For that, I would vote "Yes."

At a crossoads

Thank you for all the support and mojo sent my way over the past few days. On Thursday, I faced news of the impending implosion of my professional life with good humor and calm while I was at the office. I had made plans to meet Sweets in the city after work to be his guest while he attended a film screening he will review. Early in the day I said I wouldn't go and then later decided to stick to my plan. I got stuck in crazy traffic and by the time I arrived the theater was turning away guests because the screening was overbooked. So... that left me a few hours to kill. I parked and half heartedly struck out into the city. Shuffling along at a sluggish pace, I felt free to feel sorry for myself. I had no real desire to DO anything. I actually considered just staying in the car or driving home but sucked it up and hit the street determined to find something to occupy my time.

There wasn't much in the neighborhood that interested me. Then I began to notice those around me and to truly pay attention to what was going on in their lives. In Macys I watched a woman leaning both her elbows on a Lacoste wristwatch display and breaking up with someone on her cell phone, completely unaware of anyone else perusing the timepieces. As I left the store I followed a woman with a new baby. Her breasts were so full of milk they were almost breaking free of the sides of her tank top. Out on the street I passed a homeless man, barefoot, sleeping in a stairwell. A couple in line behind me at Chipolte's discussed the friend they came in with, who had ducked into the restroom instead of joining the line,  was down to his last few dollars so they bought him a burrito. Fire trucks lined the street in front of a hotel as a stretcher was wheeled inside for an unseen patient.

I realized, all around me life was occuring. All these people are at different crossroads. We all are. That comforts me. I find myself at this moment standing on the corner, waiting for the light to turn but unsure which direction to strike out on when it is clear to walk.

There are a few options I could take here. I could do nothing, stay at the paper and see what happens. I could take the money and benefit package and run. There is an unfortunate hitch to all this that even if I decide to go for a buyout, that is contingent on the union deal going through. So I need to come up with several scenarios for what the future may hold.

I let myself have a few days of feeling sorry for myself, eating tortilla chips for dinner and worrying. Now I've got to put my head on straight, start thinking about what is really right for us at this point and be proactive. Being sad or mad isn't going to help any of us out of this mess. Being prepared certainly won't hurt.