To-Do List

11 Things Every Minnesotan Should Try in 2011.

Now everyone come visit me so we can check some of these puppies off this list.

JOY

As I recover from my annual knock-me-on-my-ass cold and finish thank-you notes from the holidays, I've been reflecting on the holiday season that was actually packed with lovely things...

On Christmas Eve I got to have brunch with Mami, liquor shop with my Dad, and see my original nugget, home from teaching and selling cheese in NOLA.  On Christmas my parents and I went to a really good movie, did some decorating, and opened some presents.  That evening we hung out with our second immediate family and their extended family for lots of food and gab.  Later I went to a bar two blocks away for a major high school flashback (plus more drinking legally minus making out in bathrooms).  Even later that night  I came as close to fulfilling a freshman fantasy as you can without ruining it.

The next day we had our 3rd annual party and it was a doozy.  I felt a little extra pressure to make sure it was one people talked about until next year because Megan is overseas and I wanted to make her proud, plus some lovely sisters even came down from Minny just for the occasion.  I think I succeeded; the number of people that tell me they look forward to the party more than the actual holiday supports this, as well as the number of people that slept on various surfaces around my parents house that night after playing games until 5am that are always a bad idea except for when you're drunk enough.  (We were.)

I stuck around town a few extra days to hang out with some snowed in East-Coasters, and it meant more quality time all around, especially with my parents and miniature people.  (See below.)

To top it all off, I got to go to New York for one of my besties 30th birthday party a couple of weeks later, thanks to the generosity and airline miles of a dear friend.  It was, as Tommy put it, one of the "Top 5 epic weekends".  Truly.  Complete with margaritas and whiskey all over Brooklyn, speeding cabs in the snow, making friends with Australian strangers, karaoke in more than one private room, discovering that bar time isn't until almost dawn (with the drawback that you can't get pizza in Brooklyn at almost dawn), one cousin, one favorite musician, one really Bad Kitty, some of the best friends that the universe has ever beheld, and last but certainly not least a big Packer win celebrated with a bunch of fellow cheeseheads plus my new future ex-husband who doesn't know it yet.

Some select moments that make me happy all over:

Which one is my mother?  Sometimes we can't tell:

Another Big and Mini that I love:

 

Epic Morning After brunch:

 

2nd Day of Recovery Lunch:

 

In this picture there are two of the best friends anyone could ask for (who also happen to be sisters), three glasses of wine (out of the shot), one baby whom I love, and one puffer fish bath toy:

"I will buy you beer one day...":

Rachel's favorite French beer to start NYE:

New Year's Day Roses and Champagne:

Somebody's afraid of heights...

Bad Kitty...

"And maybe be your baby tonight...":

"Maybe be my baby tonight..." from Caitlin Scanlon on Vimeo.



I sort of want to live in Tommy's video of his trip to WI:

Horray Wisconsin! from thomas schwenn on Vimeo.

Old Friends Are Gold

To the ones I can sit for two hours with or twelve and we never quite get to the end of the conversation:
You Are Awesome. 

When did we grow up enough to be married, to have children, to have careers, and aging parents?  Hell, when did we ever get old enough to drive, or vote, or drink, or rent a car? 

And yet here we are, sitting at the bar (the fancy one with tablecloths and candles over bottomless margaritas and buckets of salsa) talking about our few grandparents that are left, our parents that love you like you're their own and me like I'm the daughter that got away (that's a longer story isn't it?), and checking the time in case one of us needs to get home to nurse. 

I love you old friends.  I am so blessed, or lucky, or smart, or however one decides is most appropriate to describe someone who gets to have friends that knew them in their awkward stages, who knew them at their highest and loved them through their lowest, and still wants to drink bottles of wine and figure out the problems of the world together.

Pandora, Sharp and Sweet

I should have listened to the little voice saying "No, silly girl, leave that box there on that shelf."  Alas, I did not, and that box that's been on a shelf in the very back corner of my parents basement came home with me last weekend.

I'd peeked at it before, but always had the sense to just leave it mostly alone.  It had been on that shelf since the fall of 2003 when I left Wisconsin. 

So last night, I opened a bottle of red, settled in on my bed, and I opened that box.  Oh Pandora.

First cuts are indeed the deepest, aren't they?  I still look back at that time with that man and feel deeply appreciative, and deeply sad for how we hurt each other.  We were each others first real loves.  In the box were some photos, a dog tag, some post-it love notes, and the St. Michael necklace his mother gave me. 

Mostly though, there were letters.  So many letters.  Did I have any idea how special it was to get so many letters?  To have a man that wanted to put on paper how he loved me, how he wanted me, how he'd never felt like this, that he'd always love me?  The beauty of it is that I know he meant it, just like I did.  It was the first time, it lacked the scars and cynicism that we all carry into any subsequent relationship.  We weren't afraid to write the most ridiculous, corny, over-the-top bits to each other, because we weren't experienced enough to have the eye-rolling response that would mostly likely result from that now.

There were letters from a few states and a few countries, over a few years.  I had printed out our emails because I remember not being able to have them in my email anymore, but not wanting them to disappear.   Some of the letters had "free" marked where the stamp goes and came from an FPO address.  There is a card that was written on the back of an MRE box and taped together.  His parents got one just the same.  They keep it in a frame on their wall.

What was hard about it is not that it happened, or that it ended, but I never felt real closure.  I still don't.  I don't know if that's because it was real and wonderful (until it was horrible) and he was really wonderful to me, and he really did love me like crazy, and I was the one that first ended it, or maybe it's because you just don't with your first.  Maybe none of that? 

Next time I go home, I will bring this box with me.  There's a spot for it, in the very back shelf in my parents basement.  One day in a few years I will open a bottle of red, open the box, and think "Oh, to be young and in love..." and smile. 

Coffee, Wine, Home

About a week and a half ago (before coverage of the northeastern portion of the country, which is another story...)  I was working for a few hours in the afternoon with Fuzz at Common Roots and it all sank in a little bit... I walked there, and would walk home.  When I broke the coffee grinder a couple weeks ago, I walked there, bought a couple cups, and walked home.  Walked.  For the last few years I lived in one of the most beautiful places on the planet, with two of my favorite people.  But I couldn't walk to get myself a cup of coffee.  I know this might ring hollow to a lot of folks, but as I was sitting with my friend drinking coffee, then a glass of wine because it seemed like the right thing and we could, I realized I was exactly where I should be.

There is the stress of not being employed and the worry about how long it will take to find something I can love.  There is the settling in with the roommates.  There is the weather getting just cold enough to make me realize how bitter cold it is actually going to get.  There is a lot of Vikings fans.  (There's a lot of Packers fans too though, so I'm not alone.)  But then there's being able to walk to get coffee, wine, pho, ice cream, cheese curds...  There's the walk to the lake that I can run around.  There's the beauty of the electric autumn trees.  There's music, so much music.  I haven't been in a place that's this musically inclined since Viejo San Juan.  (There - reggaeton and salsa.  Here - indie rock and local hip hop.  It's all delicious.)

So I'm going to shop for mittens and sweaters and other winter accessories.  When I see a Vikings Jersey I will smile and so "Go Pack!"  I will find a job, and it will be because I want to be there and I chose it. This apartment will be my home.  I am home.

The Day After Tomorrow

Less than 48 hours until I'm no longer a resident of California...

My room/house looks like a hurricane came through it, but its getting better.

I'm writing this from my knees.  My computer's here on the desk that will be picked up by movers tomorrow, and my chair is elsewhere.  I'm surrounded by clothes to take, clothes to pack, and clothes to donate.  CD's to sort through.  A few boxes of journals and letters that will come with us in the car.

"Us" is my sister and me.  We're going to go see the Grand Canyon this week; neither of us ever have.  We'll see a good amount of desert too, then we'll see lovelies in KC, then we'll pull into Minneapolis about a week from today.

I keep thinking about what's the same and what's different from when I did this the last time.  Almost everything is different, but yet here I am, surrounded by items, a car still to clean and route to plan, drinking coffee, listening to a mix of sappy country and angry rap music, thinking it's a beautiful day - just like I was three years and three months ago.

I'm not alone this time.  When I left Fayetteville I was gloriously alone and all was right.  As I leave Healdsburg I have Megan, and all is right. 

I've said goodbye slowly and quietly here.  One at a time.  I won't get to see everybody I'd like to say goodbye to before I leave this time.  Last time there were parties.  A few of them.  This time, I want a conversations, a glass of wine if there's time, and hugs.  I still cry a little but I know all is well.

It is indeed a beautiful day.

Blowing In The Wind

On July 4th weekend two years ago I arrived back in California with my boyfriend Greg, who had packed me into his truck to carry me home after spending three weeks in Madison following my brother's death.

Today I had lunch on the porch at the farm, with my aunt and uncle and two friends, and I was staring absentmindedly at some laundry I had hanging to dry when I focused on a shirt that was just screen printed on the day we commemorated the two year mark of Brendan's death.  It's a print of his face from a photo where he had aviator shades and a cigar in his mouth that was shaped into a cocky smile.  He would have been laughing when the photo was taken.

The shirt was inside out blowing in the breeze.  Two years ago I was in the cab of a Toyota Tacoma curled up on the passenger seat wearing my brother's sweatshirt that still smelled so much like him.  I remember being hot and crying into it a lot and wanting to sleep and erase reality.  Today was a gloriously beautiful day, hot and sunny but breezy; we drank some tumblers of cold dry rose with lunch, and I watched a shirt with my brothers face on it blow in the wind. 

Today my brothers sweatshirt hangs from the back of a chair in my room and smells mostly like dust, but if you bury your face deep enough there's still a faint whiff of Brendan.  I guess I should wash it when I pack to leave here in a few months, as it's hard to justify not washing it for even this long.  I'll probably hang it on the porch to dry, as clothes dry so quickly in the dry heat we get here in the summer. 

Favorite Things

Since I have been really preoccupied lately, I haven't been writing much and what I have posted seemed (at least to one) "a bit morose".
In the spirit of spring, and to assuage any concerns about my state of mind, here is a list of things that make me really happy, particularly so in the last week:
*Note:  This is by no means a complete list, but rather a highlight of current goodies.

- Della Fattoria, aka the best bakery in the world, and all the folks associated with it.  I get to be next to Mr. Edmund, aka Poppa, one day of the week at a farmers market, and it is a true joy.

- Sitting by the fireplace long enough to feel the cold leave my perpetually chilly fingers, feet, and rear end.

- Bourbon.  Maker's Mark and I have been really tight lately, but my cousin Phil and adopted cousin Ritchie are going to introduce me to Bulleit next week.  (I think that was the one anyway.)

- The fact that I have a disproportionately smart and creative family (see above and below), and that we number so many that I keep being pleasantly surprised by "discovering" wonderful things they do.  This week?  Baby cousin Katy's visit to the farm, conspiring and shopping, watching her sew with Colleen, and talking about her blog.  (Baby girl's got chops, y'all.)

- Red Wine.  My uncle always tells the story when somebody asks "Red or White?" of Sophia Loren responding to that question by saying (with the delivery I imagine only Sophia Loren can do), "Darling... Wine Is Red." 

- My sister.  One day we'll live close enough to walk to the bar on the corner and get drunk on a Tuesday for no good reason. 

- I live in one of the best areas of the world for really good food.  Be it something straight from the market, or at one of the multitudes of amazing restaurants within a couple hours of me, I love to eat.  One of the worlds few pure pleasures.  Love it.

- Playing with puppies.  Our puppies, cousin puppies, or friend puppies; spending hours running around trails or after dinner rolling on the living room floor in a pile of puppy pulchritude; all of these are good for the soul.

- Being able to stop what I'm doing, turn my face up, and feel the warmth of the sun.

This week has reminded more than usual that it's not really the paths we take that matter as much as who accompanies us on the journey.  I sent some messages to people last weekend on the occasion of Brendan's birthday to tell them how much they mattered to me, and the responses I received were beautiful and touching and a little overwhelming.  What right have I to feel lonely with such incredible people in my life?
I am so grateful.

Scatterbrained

My mind is all over the place this week...

Americans who tried to take Haitian children across the border to a Dominican orphanage have been charged with abduction.  The whole story is creepy to me, especially that they keep saying they were just trying to do God's work, and that they're looking to God for a positive outcome.

I had weekends off last month and I've been using the time to get caught up with friends, take care of loose ends that have been dangling for months, and just cavorting and sin in general.  There's been a lot of eating, drinking, laughing.  It has felt really good, but as I start to get a little more focused and sober some of the questions I was dealing with before are coming back in even higher relief and with more urgency...
How can I trust my emotions?
How can I trust anybody else?
Where do I want to be?
What do I want to do?
How many rules will my moral compass allow me to break?
How much discreetness before it becomes secrecy, and how much secrecy before it becomes lying?

Oscar nominations were announced, and ever since I was a kid I've been a sucker for the Academy Awards.  I get excited for the nominations, and then I feel all this pressure to see movies before the awards.  I never see all the ones I want, yet I never let myself off the hook.  It's not even fun, yet I do it year after year.  Maybe it's residual Irish/German/Catholic guilt leftover from my parents generation.  The same guilt that gets me when I'm late in Thank-You notes, when I don't call my parents back, when I think about my messy room...

We got ducks last week.  A neighbor winery was diverging of it's assets, and Colleen said we'd take the ducks.  She and I hopped in the Element with some boxes and came back six ducks and a bunch of duck poop heavier.  They are massive - I was worried about them in with the chickens but they're about as big as the rooster so not so worried anymore.  Today's the first day they're waddling around outside the pen.  At first I felt a little emotional about them, they've got such cute quacks, but now I'm totally ok with the foie gras and confit that is to come.

I have learned some intimate things in the past month about myself, and about some others in my life, all whom I consider to be at the very least close friends.  It has been entertaining, and educational, and a little emotional.  (Hey look at that!  Three E's.)   I wish I could share more but I can't until I get it all a little bit more sorted out in my own head.  Lesson - keep yourself open to learning from those that you think you know already.  The universe has surprises for all of us, and some of them are bound to be good.

What Does Bottom Look Like?

Does it look like being drunk in more than one bar with less than 3 other people in each of them in one night?  (I'm not counting the dog.)

Does it look like texting your ex (from memory since you'd deleted his number more times than you can count) and then proceeding to text him meaner and meaner things until you find yourself having to text an apology the next day?  (Even though you had erased all evidence, other than a snapshot of some of the really nice things he was texting back to you.)

Does it look like texting your current very complicated crush at 3am his time that you 'need to talk'?

Does it look like seriously considering making out with a man whose girlfriend you had met not but one hour earlier, because he told his friend he thought your were hot?

Does it look like scolding the friend, who also is your friends boyfriend, for trying to hook you up with him, when in fact it was you who told him to do it?

Does it look like accepting a trip back to the bar to drive by to see if the attractive man that was sitting there when I left to chase taken tail was still sitting there?

Does it look like discovering about forty fuzzy photos on your phone of you trying to get a cute picture holding the puppy, and having no recollection of it?

Or maybe, does it look like all these things combined?


Just wondering.

Pizza, Brooklyn, and Jameson Oh My! (or Goodbye NY: My East Coast excursion comes to a close, NY Winter Adventure pt. 6)

Wednesday was my last day in the hood, and rather than push it just to make sure we fit in a museum while I was there, we relaxed and walked a lot and talked a lot and made it one helluva last day.

We had pizza, which Megan was insistent on (after our food tour and not doing pizza OR hot dogs she still felt she hadn't fulfilled her New York hosting duties).  It was good.  I shamefully could not finish my piece.  I knew we were going to a pot luck within a few hours and I didn't want to shame myself again in front of more than Megan by not eating there.

We went to visit an adorable new deli and specialty shop that we sell some oil and vinegar to, to check it out, meet the chefs, and buy some goodies for the aforementioned pot luck.  Torrisi Italian Specialties is warm, inviting, adorable, and has salami in the window.  If you find yourself with access to Mulberry and Prince in Nolita you must go, and eat something.  Anything.  It's delicious.

After a hit of shopping in Soho we hit the subway and landed in Brooklyn.  We had a couple beers with Kryn, who grew up across the park from us in Madison and I hadn't seen in too many years, and then headed to Tommy, Hannah, and Jen's for what would be one unexpectedly boozy pot luck welcoming Fuzzy back for a visit.

(A little background - Tommy's been one of my best friends since we met in the dorms the first week our freshman year in college.  He's a master of friend mashing - as in, so many people have met because/through him we could start a cult.  How many people I have specifically because of him is a blog for another time, but I will say that good people tend to attract good people, this rule applies to Tommy, and Tommy's one of the best.)

It was a fantastic night.  There was a scrumptious spread of a ton of cheese, some Torrisi goodies, taco dip, polenta somethings, wine, and lots oh lots of Jameson which we started enjoying with Hannah's hot toddy concoction, and then went on the rocks after we ran out.  Needless to say the night got progressively more fuzzy, but some of the topics we covered:
Jersey Shore
Felatio
Blogs before blogging was the thing
Frat boys
Freshman slutties
Jersey Shore
Man stank v. stank
Man stank in contrast to weed smell
Smoking
Titanic (the movie not the boat)
Jersey Shore
Madison High School Girls Swimming 1992-2007
Advertising
Reese Witherspoon's high level of bitchiness

Scary baby dancing:

Still life of whiskey and Tommy's face:

Middle School Dancing!

Megan and I got home late and got very little sleep before we got up to get me to the airport in the morning.  I was exhausted for days, but it was beyond worth it.  The trip was fabulous.  I would not have changed a thing, other than to have more time.  I can't wait to go back.

Champagne Cart, Maria, and Maybe the 3rd bottle IS a Mistake... (or NY Winter Adventure pt. 5)

We knew our Tuesday lunch was going to be a doozy but I don't think we knew knew...

We had wanted to do a splurge meal, and since Colleen said that when she was in town last spring the best meal she had was at Eleven Madison Park, we decided a lunch there would be a good treat.  The lunch menu is actually pretty reasonable priced (especially considering the real estate, as Megan pointed out in a whisper about a half dozen times) so with Christmas money in hand we were ready to be dazzled.

Within three minutes of entering the restaurant four people had already attended to us, and that was a pretty good indicator of what we were in for.  I fell a little bit in love with the place as soon as our waiter asked if he should bring over the champagne cart.  (Champagne cart?!  A cart that exists for the sole purpose of getting a selection of cold champagne closer to me?!  Ummm Yes.)  He should.  He did.  We toasted.  Then we ate, and drank, and repeated.  There was an amuse-bouche followed by three courses each of intricate, beautiful, technically perfect and most importantly delicious food.  The highlights:a veloute (that means velvet I learned!) of butternut squash being poured around a plate already in front of me; Megan's face when the waiter showed her what to do with the bowl of bone marrow covered in some sort of light creamy stuff served with her beef tenderloin; our waiter bringing us a dish of macaroons with our coffee and promised it wouldn't be at all filling but wanted us to have something sweet to finish even though we hadn't ordered dessert (way too full).

So what is so special about it?  It is not just the food, or the wine, or the dessert, or the environment.  I think in this situation the whole was much greater than the sum of its parts.  We easily could have been attended on less than we were, but they went above and beyond with everything they did.  I guess this is standard for four-star dining, but it was new to us.  What I was probably most impressed with (aside from the food and the wine list. which was so beautiful and extensive that I wanted to take it with me and read it like a novel) was how good-humored everyone was as they went about their jobs.  From the sommelier to the man refilling our water to the chef to the woman who took our coats - everyone not only seemed happy to do what they were doing, but to do it for us.  Seamlessly.

Ideally after this lunch we would have had a bed or a couch in a quiet dark place to lie down on for a few hours, but we had planned on staying out through West Side Story that was a gift from our parents for that night so we bundled up and off we went.

We tried to do some shopping but other than finally finding the boots I had been searching for, we probably had the most fun when we finally decided we could quit and stood in front of the store windows with a view of Union Square taking pictures of each others reflection for twenty minutes.

We headed uptown to Times Square to take some jump shots and then get cozy with the tourists at Junior's waiting to go to the 7:00 shows.  Still being full from lunch we ordered drinks to tide us over and I enjoyed the best martini I've had in months.  This was also the location of that days reality check from Megan:  When I commented on how many good looking men I'd seen at every establishment we'd been to that week and that I felt like I was in a candy store she reminded me that there was such a disproportionate number of them because most of them were probably trying to be in the entertainment business.  Entertainers that make a damn good martini anyway.

West Side Story was wonderful because we grew up watching nothing but musicals on TV and have probably seen the movie two dozen times.  (I was shocked and disturbed when I found out Natalie Wood wasn't Latina.  Not so much that they would have a white actress play that role but more because it ruined the fantasy for me.)  It was also a good contrast to Fela from a couple nights before, WSS being very much the standard song and dance number you expect from Broadway.  This version does have a lot of Spanish mixed in which I think made the story, which I realize now is pretty over-the-top, that much easier to get carried away by.

After the show we skipped outta there to head north to meet my Binty, who met us at our subway stop to come have lots of wine and a sleepover.  She's been one of my besties since I met her in health class freshman year in high school, and the three of us definitely solved some of the worlds problems by the end of our second bottle of wine that night.

Coming up the next day was treats in Soho and fun in Brooklyn - a pretty darn good way to spend my last day in New York.

New York Winter Adventure pt. 1

I'm in New York City!

It took a short and beautiful plane ride from Chicago (of course, after having to come to and from the west coast everything feels short)...

We arrived last night and opted for the bus rather than taxi to Megan's apartment in Morningside.  That was the first great decision of the trip, for a few reasons:
-We spent about $2 each (or for me, nothing, because it was the first swipe of my one-week-unlimited Metro Pass that was my Christmas gift from sister) rather than the $30 we would have spent on a cab.
-Our luggage was easily manageable and I'm pushy enough that we snagged the one tiny luggage area on the city bus.
-We were packed tightly into a space full of people from completely different places doing completely different things, and we all managed to get along just fine to get where we wanted to be.  That is being in a city, and it was perfect.
-I got a seat offered to me (by a young loud friendly Puerto Rican man), and then, I got to offer a seat to somebody (an elder, friendly gentleman from Chicago).

We got to the apartment about 8pm, freshened up, lounged around, I started to rearrange Megan's room (the beginning of a bigger project that I will finish by the time I leave in five days), I called a few of my New York based friends to "trumpet my arrival" (yes, I'm quoting me), and we wrapped up to hit the streets.  We had to come back a few times because I needed a hat, then a pen, and then we were on our way.
Where were we walking to at 10:30pm?  ANYWHERE!  Why?  BECAUSE WE COULD!  The noises of the city gave me energy and I could have skipped down Broadway, although it may have warrented some looks from the security guards sprinkled about the Columbia/Barnard campus.  (There were plenty of NYPD about too, but I doubt they would have looked sideways.)

We made quick detour onto Columbia campus - so pretty!  So important!  So twinkly!  - and exited just in time before Megan made her standard "Ivy League is Bullsh*t!" comment to continue down Broadway.  (She can say that, she's an Ivy Leaguer.)

We walked and walked as it snowed and people happily made their way in and out of bars and restaurants around us.  Even a few people asking for change wished us a happy new year.  Our destination turned out to be a Chinese restaurant that not only has tasty and cheap food, but unlimited free wine with dinner.  It's white and sweet and says Franzia, but did I mention free?  We left full and drunk for around $30.

We crossed the street, bought bagels for this morning, and headed north already looking forward to today.
Today we lounge (as I write this, lounging), mani-pedi, grocery shop, cook dinner for a group of friends, then... KARAOKE.