One of my favorite things about summertime is all of the bounty it brings to my local farmer’s market. After all of the squash and root veggies of winter, and the greens of early spring, I’m ready for tomatoes and berries once the warmer months come around. I stop by a market about once a week, and look for the things that are in season – that’s where you get the best deals.
First I do a loop to see which vendors have what, and are offering the best price. Then, I let my nose be my guide. If I can smell the peaches or the melons from a distance, it usually means they’re ripe.
To make sure the produce lasts, I get a combination of ripe – I’ll eat it when I get home things, and stuff that could use a couple more days to soften up. Buy fruits and veggies with the stem on. They’ll last longer. Check out this guide to what’s in season now:
I have been told that I sound ditzy – until I talked for a little longer, and started using big words that no one expected. I’ve been told that I need to sound more authoritative, to speak sternly and declaratively. When I tried, I’ve been told I sound monotone. People have said my voice sounds musical, bobbing up and down like a song. People love to imitate how I speak.
And when I asked my male friends, no one had ever had this experience.
I’ve listened to This American Life’s chapter about vocal fry. I read this article. And now, once again, there’s a podcast on Fresh Air asking, “Are we ‘policing’ young women’s voices?” I’ll add my own question – Can we stop it already?
There are so many ways that women already have to change themselves to be “appropriate.” To avoid being raped, the responsibility is on us to not dress too provocatively, or drink too much. At work, we have to be extra certain to dress professionally to avoid looking too young, to not wear pink so we don’t look too feminine, to choose high necklines so our chests aren’t too distracting. After all, we don’t want to be accused of sleeping our way to the top, right?
The way we speak shouldn’t be the next on an already long list of behaviors to we have to adapt to fit.
The past two weeks, there has been a gap in my posts. On July 11th, I lost one of my most faithful readers, my dear grandmother Janet Rose. She has always been the person asking for latest things I’ve written, pushing me to follow my creative dreams, and wondering when that novel I’ve been plugging away at will be done so she can get her hands on a copy.
After 30 years with her in my life, it just didn’t feel right to post things I knew she wouldn’t see. But I know that Gram would give me a hard time if I leave off for too long. So, in the only way that seems fitting to pick up again, a tribute to her and the things I’ll remember fondly the most.
Playing card games, especially when drinking iced tea and eating Nips candy on the back porch
Picnics on the beach and ice cream at the Nokomis Groves afterwards
Hunting for shark’s teeth and olive shells in the sand
Eating the most delicious variety of dips at the kitchen counter while she stirs some equally delicious bubbling pot at the stove
Feeding and holding all of the tropical animals at Sarasota Jungle Gardens
Doing puzzles together at Mema’s house
The always-full game closet that gave us days of fun
Learning to knit from the only other lefty in the family (then learning again when I inevitably didn’t practice and forgot)
Playing video and computer games together. (Helping Gram get past the levels she couldn’t beat)
Searching for treasures at yard sales all around town, and inevitably saving all my money for a rainy day
Learning how to make her famous éclairs (and lots of ways to practice when they didn’t turn out quite right)
Evening walks to the creek or railroad tracks or river or meandering through the woods
Sending her long-winded emails full of all of the mundane details of my week, and knowing she printed them out to read over and over again
Watching violent action movies with the only other person in the family who loves them as much as me
The feeling of her soft hands in mine
How I was always allowed to pick up her crossword and fill in a few clues
Raiding her magazine and Reader’s Digest stash for reading material
Falling asleep in “my” twin bed at her house to the tune of trains whistling in the background
Telling her what I’m reading for book club
Deciding together what I should have for a bedtime snack
It is the thousands of happy memories that we’ve had together that make me miss her so much. And in this time of grief and loss, I will think of those and remember the loving soul, huge heart, and wonderful Grandmother that I was lucky enough to have in my life.
I was never really one to listen to podcasts. My friends would talk about how much then enjoyed them, and I just…well, couldn’t really get into them. Then Serial came along, and like the rest of the world, I was hooked after my first episode. In between airings, I suddenly NEEDED something to occupy my listening time besides music. I was also doubling the distance I ran, and wanted a little more engaging entertainment than just workout playlists to get me through the long runs.
Much like when I first got my iPhone and I asked everyone I met which apps they had, I started quizzing friends, strangers, coworkers about what podcasts they listened to. After some trial and error, I had built up a fairly solid lineup for myself. And here are the ones I subscribe to:
I have lived in NYC for almost 12 years now. In some estimations, that makes me a real, bonafide New Yorker – a title I have fought hard to earn. One thing everyone who lives here knows is that living here ain’t easy. And another that we can all agree on, is that one of the best things about being a member of this inner circle is that it has earned you the right to complain – about things that only other true New Yorker’s would understand.
For the most part, I love my city, and there’s no place else I’d rather be. But on some days, I hate it with a fiery passion. And in those moments, here are the things that drive me nuts the most.
The average traffic light is 3 minutes long. WHY is your fool self running out into the path of oncoming cars? No one needs to be to work on time that badly, and it’s just going to ruin my morning when I have to SEE you get hit by that bus you’re barely dodging.
When something goes wrong and you all want to group complain. Yes, the subway is taking forever and we’re wedged on this platform with sweat dripping down our butt cracks. Talking about it only makes it worse. Put in some headphones and put on a podcast. Try to find your zen. I know I do.
Subway performers in the morning. WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU PLAY ELECTRIC GUITAR BEFORE 9AM? There is no one that wants to hear that that early. I certainly don’t when I haven’t had my coffee yet. This is my time before work. Let me enjoy those last few minutes in peace.
Subway performers during evening rush. I enjoy subway performers (I swear). There are even a few (ok two) acts that I like so much that I always give them money and stop and watch. I have even listened to Too Many Zooz on spotify when I hadn’t seen them in a while. They’re so good! But why are you trying to break dance, or hobble through with your cane when I barely have room to wedge my body into the car. Nobody can even get their hands in their wallets to give you anything it’s so jam-packed. Stop trying to play that nonsense.
People who stop walking to swipe their metro cards. At this point, it’s probably becoming clear that I have a lot of subway-induced rage. Who doesn’t, amirite? It’s like those fools who come to a full stop in the EZ Pass lane. Don’t you see what you’re doing wrong?
When you’re waiting in a long line, and the person behind you asks dumb questions. Is that self service kiosk broken? NO, I just LIKE standing here wasting my time when I could be using it to ring up my dinner. Check yourself.
The fact that the MTA claims the subways run on a schedule. We all know that’s a joke.
Every time I go to an event thinking I had an original idea, and then they are hundreds of other people who are there.
What really pisses you off about this wonderful city?
Ever since Empire came out, Miss Taraji P. Henson has been enjoying a new level of fame. People LOVE Cookie and her sass with a seriousness that I can totally support. But I’ve been a fan of hers since long ago. Here’s why girlfriend caught my eye long before she starred in the best show on television.
She had pop-up roles in several of my favorite childhood shows : Sister, Sister, ER, Felicity, Saved by the Bell.
When you go running or biking at night, it’s standard practice to wear reflective sneakers or put reflective tape on your bike. Now Life Paint, a reflective spray launched in the UK, is taking the protection of reflection to the next level. It’s an aerosol spray that you can apply to sneakers, clothes, dog leashes, anything you have with you or use to get around after sundown. Then when light shines on the coating, it’s wearer glows. Watch it in action below.
When I watch scary movies, for the few moments when I manage to pull my head out from under the blanket and not squeeze my eyes closed, I constantly want to climb into the TV and shake the lead characters.
They are always running up the stairs instead of out the front door, or stabbing the killer once, then assuming he is dead. There are certain rules. Don’t go anywhere alone, don’t answer the phone, and certainly don’t babysit. But there aren’t so many rules of what you SHOULD do to survive a horror flick. So when Man Crates asked what I would want if I was thrown into Halloween the movie version 78, here’s what I would want in my bag of tricks:
One of those special emergency phones the president has-no dialing, just pick it up to get help.
Duane “The Rock” Johnson as my own personal body guard (have you SEEN him fight in movies?)
The skills and reflexes of Katnis with a bow and arrow, just in case I get in a tight spot with the killer.
A serious flashlight-it’s a club, and will help when the power inevitable goes out.
Then, finally after watching Trick ‘r Treat a few weeks back, I would want to have a lit Jack-o-Lantern, and bowl of candy to hand out, just so I don’t piss the Spirit of Halloween off.
Man Crates put together their list of their rules for getting out alive here. (And, the company has gifts that will help you survive the holiday season for all the guys in your life while you’re at it).
Gosh, I hate the term butthurt so much. It makes me physically cringe whenever I hear anyone say it. I thought people were over it, but then I heard on on the street today. Is this really the message you’re comfortable sending?