tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63133467095240408372024-03-20T20:55:32.894-07:00lately i've been thinking...A happy collection of things, happenings, opinions, and thoughts. Stay tuned and be amazed!Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.comBlogger127125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-14870481542109898942013-09-25T12:56:00.001-07:002013-09-25T12:56:27.139-07:00While Away the Hours<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonuvbwnB8YQ49W3swab9VUdXVOIJ-eUHsLsCm-SZ5P4omRJMgD5V1cs7wNlIDigRUEJyX8SJEyIu8YO31-2ZrPuV_bvGIQB1oGd2ZLeW7EIZuLlKV7iiVSit3H_URuKxIQydnTXTQQo7C/s1600/while+away+the+hours.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonuvbwnB8YQ49W3swab9VUdXVOIJ-eUHsLsCm-SZ5P4omRJMgD5V1cs7wNlIDigRUEJyX8SJEyIu8YO31-2ZrPuV_bvGIQB1oGd2ZLeW7EIZuLlKV7iiVSit3H_URuKxIQydnTXTQQo7C/s320/while+away+the+hours.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Greetings. From Chicago. Where I live now. Perhaps a two + year hiatus warrants an explanation, a recap of events, or at least some sort of highlight reel but I think I'll hold off on that and instead basically pick-up where I left off. I'll supply explanatory details as necessary. So back to business...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I mentioned, I am currently stationed temporarily in Chicago. It is a city with great architecture and improv and it is big enough to warrant two baseball teams. This has lead to a pretty sterling reputation among Americans and casual visitors. People typically acknowledge that it's cold (it <i>is</i> the Windy City) but it is almost cliche to discuss that Chicago is cold. BUT people who actually live here (<i>particularly </i>people who live here and have also lived elsewhere) know that it's not just cold. It's REALLY cold. And windy. And gray. And it's like that for over half the year. Uninitiated to the permanence that winter has here, I was unprepared to fill endless hours inside and found myself bored and well, possibly, a little crabby and down on Chicago. Fool me once....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is definitely fall now - which is beautiful. It is crisp and sunny and I love it. But I know that fall is really just the appetizer for winter and portends countless months of weather misery. But I plan to be prepared this time. In addition to stretchy pants, a coat that resembles a sleeping bag, and some Everest worthy mittens, I am calling on the TV to get me through. <a href="http://carly-pumpkin.blogspot.com/2010/11/fancy-picture-box.html">I have a checkered past with TV</a> - and have been quite fickle expelling it from my life only to welcome it back in when Rafa was playing well. I am committed now. I am ready to settle down. TV and I are going to get through this. I have drafted The Good Wife, The Blacklist, The Voice, Mindy Kaling and whatever Real Housewives franchise presents itself (<i>please</i> be Beverly Hills) to help me along. The DVR is set. I even ordered a new couch. I am ready for winter. What else should I be watching??</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-71563061222731990922011-01-23T06:51:00.000-08:002011-01-23T06:51:08.392-08:00No Strings Attached<a href="http://www.whargarbltv.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/No-Strings-Attached.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="http://www.whargarbltv.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/No-Strings-Attached.jpg" width="320" /></a>Perhaps I was overcompensating for the unfortunate Deer Hunter experience, but my normally superior movie picking skills have failed me recently. First it was Ashton Kutcher and Katherine Heigl - sounds like a dream cast, right? Well, that's what I thought too. And so, I settled in with wine, Luke and pack of black dogs prepared to be entertained (I require nothing more of my movies). No such luck. Total stinker. I can't remember the name of the movie and, honestly, it's probably for the best I would hate for anyone else to have to suffer that 90 minutes of disappointment. Just know this, the premise of the movie is that Ashton Kutcher is a high powered covert CIA operative living in the burbs. Ready for the crazy twist?? All of the seemingly docile and boring neighbors were blood-thirst assassins out to get him and his lovely (pregnant) wife, Katherine Heigl. Major let down.<br />
<br />
Next up, the Back Up Plan with J.Lo. I have seen many of J.Lo's films and typically they are just my speed. Maid in Manhattan? lovely. The Wedding Planner? A delight. The Back Up Plan? TOTAL dud. A mash up of about 7 other, better, rom coms. The lone bright spot in this movie was a cameo by Cesar Milan. But, alas, the dog whisperer was not enough to redeem this movie.<br />
<br />
At this point, I know many movie goers would be running to the comfort of some critically acclaimed indie film. Well, you can keep your King's Speech and your Black Swan, I am not so easily deterred. Last night I was ready to give Ashton another shot and give Natalie a chance to erase that Black Swan blemish from her resume and No Strings Attached exceeded expectations in every category.<br />
<br />
My good buddy A.O Scott had this to say: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> <i>“No Strings Attached,” directed by </i><a class="meta-per" href="http://movies.nytimes.com/person/107926/Ivan-Reitman?inline=nyt-per" style="color: #004276; text-decoration: underline;" title=""><i>Ivan Reitman</i></a><i> from a script by Elizabeth Meriwether, is not entirely terrible. </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Once again, Mr. Scott has missed the mark. As far as rom coms go, this is Oscar material. Seriously, the cast was stellar, the writing clever, the plot quick, the stars very easy on the eyes, and the ending happy. 5 stars - a must see.</span></span></span>Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-67253704178882928962011-01-06T08:10:00.000-08:002011-01-06T08:10:04.518-08:00That's What She SaidHello and Happy New Year!<br />
<br />
As I rang in 2011 with fireworks and champagne I vowed to not fall victim to pedestrian new year's resolutions. I decided to leave exercising more and fiscal restraint to the masses, my sights have been set FAR higher. I am looking to build a digital media empire in 2011. The foundation has, of course, already been laid with the carly pumpkin blog but new in 2011 we will have, wait for it, The That's What She Said Podcast. I will be co-hosting this podcast with my future Amazing Race partner, Allison Jones. Here's the iTunes description:<br />
<br />
<em>Do you have problems and aren't particularly picky about who helps you solve them? Have you been looking for life advice from two totally unqualified people? Then, The That's What She Said Podcast with Carly and Allison is your answer! </em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em><br />
</em><em>Listeners rave about the show:</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>"Worse than Showgirls!"</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>"Well, that was a huge waste of time."</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>"I will never get those 30 minutes back."</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>"You are both really annoying. Especially Carly."</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>--Yep. That's What She Said.</em><br />
<br />
<em>Millions of figurative listeners can't be wrong. Subscribe today. You might be sorry you did!</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><em>Legal Notice: No advice given on this show should actually be followed. It is completely useless and potentially life threatening</em>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji_KmI-KZIpImHnCheYCOnLJQwTsNsH0-RRAJiOTPNu5mwglHMA_o5D0NBLdxv2hssqTmlEaf7XFsIbIGatlbfflm3r-75xUSJoHxSYucfTLNno1TQH9WqFyCD4p3WLQYm60oNvfja4rYl/s1600/mail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji_KmI-KZIpImHnCheYCOnLJQwTsNsH0-RRAJiOTPNu5mwglHMA_o5D0NBLdxv2hssqTmlEaf7XFsIbIGatlbfflm3r-75xUSJoHxSYucfTLNno1TQH9WqFyCD4p3WLQYm60oNvfja4rYl/s1600/mail.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Check here in about a week for the first episode: <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/thats-what-she-said/id413110702">http://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/thats-what-she-said/id413110702</a> <br />
<br />
And email me at <a href="mailto:carly@thethatswhatshesaidpodcast.com">carly@thethatswhatshesaidpodcast.com</a> if you would like to be on the show!Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-14721346563610358772010-12-10T12:28:00.000-08:002010-12-10T12:28:50.704-08:00The 5 Week Itch<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Through a lifetime of rigorous field studies, I have determined beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am not a girl who needs a boyfriend. It’s important to note that this is not at ALL the same as not wanting a boyfriend – it just means that I am not going to bear the company of some dude who struggles with subject verb agreement and whose reading list consists of menus and street signs, just to have someone to spend my evenings with. That said, it’s probably not a good policy to ignore every guy who, upon first meeting, does not immediately strike me as a catch.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This leads me to my current situation and it is one I have found myself in before. The actual guy in question matters less than the situation itself (this time a fellow who does something related to cars and the maintenance they require – but it could just as easily be the foreign guy, the writer, the consultant). And the situation is this: I begin casually dating a guy who I think will be “fun” knowing 100% that it will not be “permanent”. I also know from the beginning that the fun will not last forever but I figure why not enjoy it while I can. So - this all goes along great until I reach the inevitable point when his lack of interest in anything besides Belgian beer and football stops being charming and starts being REALLY, REALLY annoying. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then what am I to do??? This point is often reached after 4-5 weeks – too late to easily do my go-to: the fadeout (though I have done it). A conversation, on the other hand seems a little much given that this is not even a full-blown relationship. As a rule of thumb, I try to avoid conversations about feelings and whatnot as much as possible. And in this instance I don’t even have something dramatic to point to as a cause for my not wanting to see them anymore. 4-5 weeks isn’t enough time for: cheating, working too much, not wanting to have children, being an alcoholic – I mean, really I hardly know the guy. The only thing to say is - “You annoy me please stop calling. I know you didn’t annoy me before but you do now. Sorry.” I am definitely not ready to have that level of frank discussion. I am not even that honest with my doctor.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, what am I to do??</span>Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-69529355560664147032010-11-28T16:28:00.000-08:002010-11-28T16:28:51.404-08:00Rachel McAdams to the Rescue<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://sportsgonesouth.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/deerhunter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://sportsgonesouth.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/deerhunter.jpg" width="222" /></a></div><br />
As you all know, I have suffered through my fair share of terrible movies (see also: Slumdog Millionaire, The Wrestler). I, however, had no idea about the depths of misery that could be inflicted by a movie until I saw The Deer Hunter. I should probably say that much of this experience was my own doing - although I did not suggest this movie, I was not tied or bound and placed in front of the television with my eyelids super-glued open. My culpability ends there - the rest of the blame lays squarely with De Niro, Streep, and whatever satanic director thought up this visual monstrosity.<br />
<br />
The beginning of the movie was tricky - a group of friends, a wedding, small town camaraderie. Sure Meryl's dad drinks too much and hunting deer does not make me very happy, but it wasn't terrible. I knew, though, that the relative calm and tranquility would be short-lived. I just knew it. And then, OUT OF NOWHERE, the unsuspecting viewer is transported from western PA to a freaking Vietnam POW camp. There were underwater cages, nasty vietnam army guys, and games of russian roulette. I am sure there were all sorts of other unpleasant things but I had my eyes closed for much of it. I reopened them just in time to see some nice american boy blow half of his face off in that game of russian roulette I was just telling you about.<br />
<br />
All told, I think I made it through about 45 minutes of the movie before I had to ask (demand strongly) my host to turn off the movie. I just don't understand why people think the world would be such a terrible place if all movies featured Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, I was able to purge that horrendous experience from my memory this weekend when I saw Morning Glory. A terrific little film with a star-studded cast: Diane Keaton, Harrison Ford, Jeff Goldblum, and the real hero: Rachel McAdams. As Manohla Dargis wrote "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><i>If you spend enough time with </i><a class="meta-per" href="http://movies.nytimes.com/person/334531/Rachel-McAdams?inline=nyt-per" style="color: #004276; text-decoration: underline;" title=""><i>Rachel McAdams</i></a><i>, it’s easy to get lost in the pleasure of her company, or at least become enjoyably distracted. Effortlessly likable, she has a way of keeping you tethered to her character even when your attention begins to wander." </i>You hear that, Streep? Oscars alone don't make you likable.</span>Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-8715182822812121552010-11-22T14:57:00.000-08:002010-11-22T14:57:59.581-08:00Fancy Picture BoxThis summer, facing personal fiscal crisis and thinking myself culturally superior, I cancelled my cable subscription. I was sick of paying $100 a month for something I barely used. The way I figured, I could use the $60 of that that was for the TV on something else and fill my time easily with books (hello library!), the New Yorker (each article easily takes a whole night to read), and most importantly Hulu and Netflix On Demand (so I could watch my select shows and movies). And when my Rafa was top-spinning his way to 3 major titles I relied on the the good graces of friends and local drinking establishments. All of that entertainment and I could still take the cultural high road and respond "oh, I don't have TV" when someone would ask me if I had seen Dancing With the Stars.<br />
<br />
The problem was - I am not nearly as sophisticated as I thought. I missed the TV real bad. I lived in denial abou this for several months but what finally spurred me to action was Sunday mornings. I REALLY missed Sunday morning talk shows. The main drawback of online TV viewing is that you can't watch anything live or current. <br />
<br />
So, last weekend I went to Best Buy determined to remedy the situation. I asked one of the helpful clerks what I could get to "make the pictures come on" without cable and he pointed me to some old-school rabbit ears. I was THRILLED. Sunday morning TV for a one-time $11 purchase?! I got home and followed the instructions (very short - old school technology is so user friendly) and hooked those little guys up. NADA. I stuck the antenna out the window and the best I could do was fuzzy Home Shopping Network and spanish cartoons.<br />
<br />
I was crestfallen. Defeated and downtrodden, I got my phone and called those monopolistic bastards at KableTown and made an appointment to return the pictures to my life. The experiment is over and I am once again part of mainstream, tv viewing America. A car AND cable - it's like a whole new me!<br />
<br />
Super pumped for Millionaire Matchmaker tonight!!Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-14945704593161941312010-11-01T08:53:00.000-07:002010-11-01T08:59:35.127-07:00<div style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></div>Hello! Wow, it's been awhile since I have tapped out one of these little posts. Something special has inspired me to write again. A friend (technically, a husband of a friend...but he's a nice enough guy so we'll go ahead and call him a friend) has recently started a cool blog called <a href="http://www.feedtheanimal.blogspot.com/">Feed the Animal</a>. On the site he tells little stories and anecdotes through recipes - I know there is a parallel to be drawn here but it escapes me at the moment. In any event, check it out.<br />
<br />
So this weekend Rafa and I packed up our bags and headed to Flourtown, PA to dog sit for the Goodmans (of the aforementioned Feed the Animal) fame. Inspired by Dave's cooking and not wanting to miss an opportunity to cook in their AMAZING new kitchen (a considerable upgrade from what passes for a kitchen in my apt) I headed out to the Whole Foods and procured the makings for a fall feast.<br />
<br />
<strong><u>Grilled Halibut with Sauteed Brussel Sprouts and Roasted Butternut Squash with Sage and Shallots.</u></strong><br />
<br />
Over on FTA, Dave is pretty good with setting out recipes and measurements...carly pumpkin...not so much.<br />
<br />
The brussel sprouts are a variation on a dish served at Audrey Claire and they are delicious. If had bad brussel sprout experiences as a child or have avoided the food all together because you just assumed it would be vile; this dish will change you. It's REAL good - and very easy to make. Just halve the brussel sprouts, put a healthy amount of butter and olive oil in a pan, salt, pepper, and away we go. It's important to get the sprouts to brown, the more brown the better. Equally important to cook them thoroughly, you want them to be very tender. Tough sprouts are no good. Here are the sprouts in action:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoBaeW8g45pi0seLd7z8N0CGk1G7pscsTDJeWshscxzho-rweocotQthOZoJ1DRzzt_wbhgZe5GwfTvAsf9aB8neuKP_rGiPrEXOeSujroFUfSNOtRCxpc4ZpDTk7TzzcASLTqxGaK9i7L/s1600/sprouts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoBaeW8g45pi0seLd7z8N0CGk1G7pscsTDJeWshscxzho-rweocotQthOZoJ1DRzzt_wbhgZe5GwfTvAsf9aB8neuKP_rGiPrEXOeSujroFUfSNOtRCxpc4ZpDTk7TzzcASLTqxGaK9i7L/s320/sprouts.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Next up we have the butternut squash. This is a little more labor intensive than the sprouts but very tasty. First, you have to peel and cube the squash:<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/?attid=0&disp=emb&view=att&th=12c08064a337043b" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: undefined;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?attid=0&disp=emb&view=att&th=12c08064a337043b" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Helpers: </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><img height="240" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?attid=0&disp=emb&view=att&th=12c0807e150dba07" width="320" /></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So after you have peeled and cubed, slice a shallot and some sage leaves. Toss all together with olive oil and place in 400 degree oven. Ideally, after 25 minutes you have have nicely browned little squash bites, this didn't really happen for me so I threw them under the broiler for a couple of minutes to finish and that worked pretty well.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><img height="240" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?attid=0&disp=emb&view=att&th=12c08098b8031cfd" width="320" /></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">There was also halibut which a) does not photograph well raw and b) was so easy it's hardly worth mentioning. Cover halibut with olive oil, salt, pepper place on well heated grill pan. Sear each side and finish in oven with the squash. Served with a shallot butter (minced shallots, butter, salt).</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Delish. The finished product:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><img height="239" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?attid=0&disp=emb&view=att&th=12c080c61f20f00c" width="320" /></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">If only our movie selection had been as good as our meal. For future reference, Katherine Heigl and Ashton Kutcher do not make convincing CIA operatives. I know, I was as surprised as anyone and had to discover this the hard way.<br />
<br />
Stacy, judging from the clues left around the house, was this the meal you would have guessed?<br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Cooking Sountrack: Bruce Springsteen.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Served with Malbec.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-69713872452516644582010-09-22T07:28:00.000-07:002010-09-22T07:28:42.713-07:00Some People Wait A Lifetime for a Moment Like This...First, let me apologize for the delay in this posting; I know many were disappointed. But frankly, when something this major happens it's best to collect one's thoughts before commenting. No, I did not find a husband or a new job (I obviously would have at least updated my FB status for such a major event). The moment I have have been working towards for five long but satisfying years finally happened: A Career Grandslam. For my Rafa of course. My Rafa, fresh off of wins at Roland Garros and Wimbledon, dispensed with opponenents from near and far as he steamrolled his way to victory at the US Open. All while dropping only a single set. <br />
<br />
The whole tournament was amazing and I even got to go see a match. That handsome gigante, John Isner. He didn't win but watching in person was super fun and yelling "COME ON, JOHNNY" is really satisfying.<br />
<br />
And although I did not get to see my Rafa in person following him through the Open was thrilling. He looked downright princely in his evening attire of jet black and neon green with a sporty new short hair cut to match. His play was mesmerizing and the win well deserved. It's so gratifying to know that my yells of "VAMOS HONEY" and the lengths I go to watch all of the matches despite not having a TV are worth it.<br />
<br />
You're welcome:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPBldEvF__c_qRAz2SUZRCKWvUHWDbrL7lAvff2PvNbieAqzK4GeGCXGe_9TXZpzawAtBJknpr_YQXwgnBkS797SMhW8bo7FxHFQXpooC1ImgedsIkN-GtJT33XjSo9bUggOr2kUAhlYs/s1600/rafa+vamos+us+open.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPBldEvF__c_qRAz2SUZRCKWvUHWDbrL7lAvff2PvNbieAqzK4GeGCXGe_9TXZpzawAtBJknpr_YQXwgnBkS797SMhW8bo7FxHFQXpooC1ImgedsIkN-GtJT33XjSo9bUggOr2kUAhlYs/s320/rafa+vamos+us+open.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTQsy3BnjpzrypkDahC6o7k05AAJhddKT36COH2A9nYnLPu7TE3xedGRcy0xTwc_d1N4FqmqgyHA1dZxLn7tNbUtindlI3HARVwL-sSki8I5TLLLRqRnW3XcgoNRdPf5t8PpIAVzsB-jY/s1600/rafa+usopen+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTQsy3BnjpzrypkDahC6o7k05AAJhddKT36COH2A9nYnLPu7TE3xedGRcy0xTwc_d1N4FqmqgyHA1dZxLn7tNbUtindlI3HARVwL-sSki8I5TLLLRqRnW3XcgoNRdPf5t8PpIAVzsB-jY/s320/rafa+usopen+2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihN3nkJ8dwEhksNqeALJRudbPgUgjUROAR5OGRFGHOUq2Dg_p-wTpbdRdKKhl4tmB6K1FHEJG7u9EjOW2COCEnobQw3LIvSAZ7AlOfT6oEmSg2KKwvBoRIRslDOEDT_f5aPxfbcLO5f2R9/s1600/rafa+win.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihN3nkJ8dwEhksNqeALJRudbPgUgjUROAR5OGRFGHOUq2Dg_p-wTpbdRdKKhl4tmB6K1FHEJG7u9EjOW2COCEnobQw3LIvSAZ7AlOfT6oEmSg2KKwvBoRIRslDOEDT_f5aPxfbcLO5f2R9/s320/rafa+win.jpg" /></a></div><br />
PS Thank you to Kelly Clarkson for the amazing song that lent this post its title. You never fail me and will always be the American Idol to me.Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-16243004189347463562010-07-30T05:52:00.000-07:002010-07-30T06:04:35.209-07:00Let Jesus Take the WheelIf all goes according to plan, I will be starting a new job in the near future. The process of getting said new job has been painfully protracted and the consequence of the delay has been the incessant asking of EVERYONE I KNOW if "the new gig has started yet" and "any word on the start date" to my personal favorite "you're still here?". I have to muster all my charm and goodwill not to respond "I am sitting at my computer right? I would take that as a pretty sure sign that I am still here". But instead, I smile and say "Ha. yep. still here. keeping busy, though".<br /><br />Last night I was skyping with my father who, despite his strong efforts, can not resist asking me about the new job. I tried to allay his fears last night by saying that he could rest assured knowing that I would not forget to mention to him that my months-long wait had come to an end and I had started my new job. <br /><br />By way of quasi-apology he said that he just had so little to worry about that he couldn't help but worry about me. I pointed out to him several things in his life that I thought were worth worrying about to which he quickly responded "nah, that's all in god's hands". I agreed with the approach and said "yeah, god is my co-pilot". And then, without hesitation, my dear dad informed me that: "Nope, god's riding with me. He say's you're fucked".<br /><br />Guess I'll have to switch my bumper sticker, then. Rafa would never let me down.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3u673nKYujWCUZEZdUCYumfWiKRGqnHTnP8se-mFGNyJ4YBmLNfmzC_QD-XWiE3Emk6TdVlQOx8DIImHUpzkkkTngMwPMeuTj6GHLGcBh9vPNYW2v6XCQPYWlCSfp0koTZhh1VA1bTa0z/s1600/Copilot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 87px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3u673nKYujWCUZEZdUCYumfWiKRGqnHTnP8se-mFGNyJ4YBmLNfmzC_QD-XWiE3Emk6TdVlQOx8DIImHUpzkkkTngMwPMeuTj6GHLGcBh9vPNYW2v6XCQPYWlCSfp0koTZhh1VA1bTa0z/s320/Copilot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499683961827353074" border="0" /></a>Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-65032477408105522612010-07-27T11:03:00.001-07:002010-07-27T12:25:26.257-07:00DreamweaverAbout once a week I have some variation of the same dream. I dream that I am driving a car but can not hit the brakes. Sometimes I can't reach the breaks even though I am stretching my leg out as far as it will go. Sometimes it's because I am in the back seat and can't figure out how to get to the front. I also have the opposite of this dream, where I am trying to run but can. not. get. my. legs. to. move. These dreams are right up there with the "holy shit, it's final exam day and I didn't study...I am not going to graduate" dreams...which I still have and wake up feeling oddly uneasy. Not nightmares, per se, but still unpleasant and not nearly as fun as the time that I dreamt that Justin Timberlake and I were dating and on vacation in Sun Valley, ID. I woke from that dream feeling awesome.<br /><br />My friends at the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/27/health/27night.html?adxnnl=1&ref=general&src=me&adxnnlx=1280253614-BsoD7i4lUXdT8Fym+BncAw">New York Times</a> are telling me now that I can have all Justin dreams and no more car dreams and definitely no dreams where I have a baby and can't remember where I set it down only to realize that one of the cats at my aunt and uncle's house has eaten it! Oh no, no more of those dreams. From now on, what you see below will be what I see between the hours of 9:00pm and 7:00am:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBW5KjOUcyNGZOYWm2Un5UWwowxKavpTayoMMAu0SNHLngQqppuuo92JAyNrom0Zdky2Bk5wiZm4sUCN2ZzvkBy-8NP8ZU4dyq0oRmcwL4qVTohFLmr1j2rLxMfh4MKW4OD8UjgAnsu5Uo/s1600/matt+riggins.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBW5KjOUcyNGZOYWm2Un5UWwowxKavpTayoMMAu0SNHLngQqppuuo92JAyNrom0Zdky2Bk5wiZm4sUCN2ZzvkBy-8NP8ZU4dyq0oRmcwL4qVTohFLmr1j2rLxMfh4MKW4OD8UjgAnsu5Uo/s320/matt+riggins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498651190862434882" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYmMVfSc-abQHxxRfKecjPhXDKBA78ZvlI1uI2K0AJn_sqp71HgNgGxzh6Dwy70xoXer32RzAhQ9enovL1q6VHFvluHpYUd1Br4J6X4t-BFsMjAwPWDDFq5LOameJLin_5oM65LbcdX_C/s1600/JCrew_Logo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 90px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYmMVfSc-abQHxxRfKecjPhXDKBA78ZvlI1uI2K0AJn_sqp71HgNgGxzh6Dwy70xoXer32RzAhQ9enovL1q6VHFvluHpYUd1Br4J6X4t-BFsMjAwPWDDFq5LOameJLin_5oM65LbcdX_C/s320/JCrew_Logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498650907267166498" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRldCEI__TSx08iLxZ-kiZwqJZIxjX4LfhkF61ItopKFxYqg-hmX4kY-_YYrE78k3muSuH3SK8oVCySJq0FA0ZnjAMwPesHChhYwR2kUleD4iT0RI9D7DH2XrR6eAJPR5vQwJtdx6b-MPg/s1600/rafa-nadal-4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRldCEI__TSx08iLxZ-kiZwqJZIxjX4LfhkF61ItopKFxYqg-hmX4kY-_YYrE78k3muSuH3SK8oVCySJq0FA0ZnjAMwPesHChhYwR2kUleD4iT0RI9D7DH2XrR6eAJPR5vQwJtdx6b-MPg/s320/rafa-nadal-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498650435128841730" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4muWNF8EfGEb6IU4vglIXksnw1zNY1yY_vSqtW-Zpm-3HIvp8WXvcAMdzdTxr0KbkS39Ir3AUSAKdLv7IcTsY_G-KnaF3dDY9fSmgpfTRSMOsxD31jzm5ifRChgdmhN3s6Om6vNEHE8kr/s1600/Taylor_Lautner_GQ_magazine.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4muWNF8EfGEb6IU4vglIXksnw1zNY1yY_vSqtW-Zpm-3HIvp8WXvcAMdzdTxr0KbkS39Ir3AUSAKdLv7IcTsY_G-KnaF3dDY9fSmgpfTRSMOsxD31jzm5ifRChgdmhN3s6Om6vNEHE8kr/s320/Taylor_Lautner_GQ_magazine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498650151062351810" border="0" /></a>Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-21766500296381768512010-07-19T16:53:00.000-07:002010-07-19T17:16:28.468-07:00AC<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blogcdn.com/www.styledash.com/media/2008/06/ac-slater1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 273px;" src="http://www.blogcdn.com/www.styledash.com/media/2008/06/ac-slater1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>I feel like lately my second job (albeit a super fun one) is celebrating 30th birthdays. I celebrated my own with a blow-out pool party that was filled with family, friends, dogs, and a parrot pinata. We had Brie's (friend not sister) in Nashville at a great restaurant where several bottles of wine were ordered and Real Housewives of New Jersey meets jet-lagged-Japanese wedding-guest impersonations were performed. And the evening ended magically with a killer round of charades out on the patio of the Hampton Inn with Brie exposing her stomach to get the group to "Team Jacob" (sidenote: I am now a staunch member of said team but we shall save that story for another time). <div><br /></div><div>And this past weekend we had Jordan's birthday. Jordan flew to Philadelphia on Friday for night in the city before her brother joined us and we headed to Atlantic City. Wanting all of my friends, former boyfriends, and childhood playmates to know about the spectacular weekend I had on tap, I updated my status on facebook to let all who were interested (and all who weren't) know that I was about to have a weekend of "ACs". The first AC was Audrey Claire where Jordan and I dined on Friday night, followed by AC (Atlantic City of course) all of which I hoped had AC (air conditioning), don't worry I complimented myself on the cleverness of that wordsmithing. <div> </div><div><br /></div><div>Atlantic City managed to exceed my rather high expectations in multiple categories. <b>Accommodations</b>: we stayed at the Water Club where our room was really nice and the complimentary toiletries were top-notch. <b>Dining</b>: Great seafood dinner at the Borgata. Sadly, our performance at the blackjack table did not permit us the $395/oz caviar on the menu. <b>People watching</b>: It was in this last category that A.C. honestly nailed it. I mean, they hit this one OUT OF THE PARK. If Jersey Shore ever needs to host an open casting call, they need to look no further than the pool at the Water Club, it is gold! I can now spot fake boobs from 100 yards out and realize that it makes NO sense to have 1 tattoo when you can have 17. But wait, the people watching gets even better. In addition to the wanna-be Snookis at the pool, I got to add another A.C. to my list: A.C. SLATER!!!!! Unbelievable. I peeped him coming out of mur.mur and stood on my chair and screamed "holy crap, is that Slater???". The blackjack dealer quickly and firmly told me to sit down. I did one better, grabbed my chips from the table and Jordan's iPhone to get a couple of candids!!</div></div>Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-6116288987569485402010-07-08T06:22:00.000-07:002010-07-08T06:30:33.950-07:00All the News That's Fit to Print<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2010/07/08/nytfrontpage/scan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 348px; height: 640px;" src="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2010/07/08/nytfrontpage/scan.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I read the New York Times everyday. I look forward to the Science Times on Tuesdays, Dining&Wine on Wednesdays, Thursday Styles, and the Sunday Magazine is one of life's true pleasures (even if the articles are a little long and it sometimes takes me a week to finish them). I have favorite writers and contributors, David Pogue (the technology writer...a testament to his writing really that I read his columns at all given that I don't have TV and my cell phone is 5 years old) Mark Bittman, David Brooks (recently names the Liberals' favorite conservative). And I have least favorites: I am looking at you nose-in-the-air <span style="font-style: italic;">film</span> critics A.O. Scott and Manhola Dargis.<br /><br />Well, I have a new favorite to add to this: <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/08/fashion/08CRIB.html?src=un&feedurl=http%3A%2F%2Fjson8.nytimes.com%2Fpages%2Ffashion%2Findex.jsonp">The Crib Sheet: The 10 Things to Talk About This Weekend</a>. I am not sure how long this column has been around but I am just now catching on and this shit is FUNNY. Here is # 7 from the week's list: <br /><br /><a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/subjects/b/bedbugs/index.html?inline=nyt-classifier" title="More articles about bedbugs." class="meta-classifier">Bedbugs</a> infest Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister stores in New York. God sends insects to those who flaunt their abs in the workplace.Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-21500368627907417612010-06-07T17:45:00.000-07:002010-06-07T18:09:06.798-07:00Rafa Nadal 5, Rafa Bolger 0<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitgytIADsseup6yx0qeaF-Li4-d_xdFz2iDnvMMKy7Da4mmNquF3ttDBn-c-Th3sX-_Li0sEZoOc5apq3j7buZyUpLi7pLlePFTokJy7FS_PTDO30-rYKDyyuCdWjvaeDoNmUWdYRAnQ3_/s1600/IMG_0894.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2010/06/06/sports/06tennis2_337-span/06tennis2_337-span-articleLarge.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 330px;" src="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2010/06/06/sports/06tennis2_337-span/06tennis2_337-span-articleLarge.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>This weekend marked my Rafa's (the boy not the dog) return to his rightful place at the top of the ATP rankings. He fought his way back to number 1 after a year of injuries. On Sunday he found himself across the court from that Swedish weasel who knocked him out last year. Only this time my Rafa was on fire (el fuego). Fist pumps abounded and he marched all over that weasel in a straight sets victory to claim the Coupe des Mousequetaires for the fifth time. In a related story, in the women's final on Saturday Francesca Schiavone grabbed the women's title...just a few weeks shy of her 30th birthday. Watch out Paris, I am looking to get me a title in 2011!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>In between watching tennis matches, I managed to fit in some quality country time and took my <i>other</i> Rafa for a nice run through the woods. Although Rafa doesn't "run away" per se, he is very much a trail blazer. He far prefers bounding like a bunny rabbit through the woods than trotting beside me on the trail. Usually this works out ok and after his speedy pursuit of a deer or other Rodents of Unusual Size that are lurking in the forrest - he returns to my side and we wrap up the run. This time though the trail got the best of him and at the end of our run he had two divots missing from his rear paw pads and by the next morning a pretty gruesome hot spot on his tail. We went to the vet the next day and emerged with antibiotics, steroids, a cone, and booties for the little guy. I am not sure if it's the shame of walking through the neighborhood dressed like a freak show or mood swings brought on from the juice, but our daily walks are NO fun right now!</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitgytIADsseup6yx0qeaF-Li4-d_xdFz2iDnvMMKy7Da4mmNquF3ttDBn-c-Th3sX-_Li0sEZoOc5apq3j7buZyUpLi7pLlePFTokJy7FS_PTDO30-rYKDyyuCdWjvaeDoNmUWdYRAnQ3_/s320/IMG_0894.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480202834263136594" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span><div>Be sure to check back for updates on the Rafas. Vamos!</div>Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-30659996641088978622010-05-19T06:27:00.000-07:002010-05-19T07:21:43.043-07:00The Real World: The Country<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.poet.org/music/artwork/blind_melon/blind_melon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 342px; height: 342px;" src="http://www.poet.org/music/artwork/blind_melon/blind_melon.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>It appears as though this summer could well entail a temporary (though extended) stay at my country house. In previous seasons of "Real World: The Country" cast members included a former nanny, said nanny's work-at-home fiance, their albino cat who was confined to the basement, and an incredibly loquacious friend of lynnie's who slept on the couch and whom we avoided as much as possible. This season's cast will see the addition of Aunt Nancy and the Ronster Monster (the RM) and of course Woody and Splash. So all told, the housemates will include: 2 aunts, 2 uncles, 2 cousins, 4 dogs, 4 cats and ME!!! Oh boy, what a way to say hello to 30!!<br /><br />Unsurprisingly, the planning of summer activities has begun in earnest. Nancy and I are set to have a summer book club where we will read and discuss the building and defense of our great democracy. First selection: The Federalist Papers. The dog agility course is on order and ready to be assembled in the back yard (I think Rafa is going to really excel at this). Standing appointments have been set up for 6am workout's with Nancy's trainer. So, last night as we were rattling off these plans , Nancy took a slight detour to talk about my cousin Hannah's recent dance recital (a 3 day event that I was informed I should put on my calendar now) where she performed routines in jazz, ballet, hip-hop and tap. Nancy expressed genuine enthusiasm for all the performances but told me that tap was now on her "bucket list"...the list of things of things she would like to do before she kicks the bucket. I said "you want to learn to tap?" to which she humbly responded "Carly, I don't know how I CAN'T learn". She has already consulted with the RM about the construction of a ply-wood dance floor in the basement.<br /><br />This is going to be awesome.Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-11548211209286294352010-04-04T19:10:00.001-07:002010-04-05T19:27:19.862-07:00Happy Camper<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XIMja0rd1W4/S7qX0pioM2I/AAAAAAAAA4o/B0V3spArZvs/s400/IMG_0741.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blogger.com/%20http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XIMja0rd1W4/S7qX_lolVlI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/uJbqNN3U8H0/s800/IMG_0750.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 800px; height: 600px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XIMja0rd1W4/S7qX_lolVlI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/uJbqNN3U8H0/s800/IMG_0750.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I have often commented that my weekends in the country are like summer camp for grown-ups. Activities abound: trail run in the morning, tennis after lunch, bike ride before dinner and then dinner which is definitely better than standard camp fare if only because the canteens are filled with wine and cheetah-ritas! Well, this past weekend was my first real country visit in quite some time. The weather was perfect and we spent nearly the entire weekend outside. There was much anticipation for the first bike ride of the season. Lynnie got a bike last summer (a Specialized designed for a racer but remarkably well-suited for a .... Lynnie. See the Blue Bullet in action above).<br /><br />The family pelaton assembled for the inaugural ride, banding together as Team Pathetic for summer 2010 racing. The belly-aching began before the first foot hit the pedal, excuses were laid out before the helmets were buckled, and the slow-pedaling commenced as soon as the downward coast out of the driveway ended. In case you are wondering, the answer is "yes" I do sometimes feel like Michael Jordan playing a pick-up game during these rides, what with my lightning speed and all. See Nancy looking victorious after launching the speed assault on wheels that is Team Pathetic.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XIMja0rd1W4/S7qX0pioM2I/AAAAAAAAA4o/B0V3spArZvs/s400/IMG_0741.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XIMja0rd1W4/S7qX0pioM2I/AAAAAAAAA4o/B0V3spArZvs/s400/IMG_0741.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The ride was great and was followed by a delicious dinner. Given the persistence of my quasi-vegetarianism, Rafa got to eat my helping of lamb. And it wouldn't have been a holiday without a Wong. This time Cousin Amanda was the lucky recipient, so glad she doesn't have one arm.<br /><br />PS I hope you all enjoy the freshened up layout... I would have liked something a little snazzier but it turns out blogger really doesn't give you much to choose from!Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-82834082270110950592010-02-09T06:13:00.000-08:002010-02-09T07:28:40.323-08:00It's the End of The World as We Know It<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7-OAsSZ44tU3Alnnp5bwqK0fmaXx6caZcCNxlES_pjPWVHg6P_J8uyLmwyQGYJQMUWNax68lWa_TaC86r9KCaciatto2O56f5E-2evTPjGeCgSOxVyAGMGe2hOnuMuf_obzfDIRKRIeS/s1600-h/rafa+snow.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7-OAsSZ44tU3Alnnp5bwqK0fmaXx6caZcCNxlES_pjPWVHg6P_J8uyLmwyQGYJQMUWNax68lWa_TaC86r9KCaciatto2O56f5E-2evTPjGeCgSOxVyAGMGe2hOnuMuf_obzfDIRKRIeS/s400/rafa+snow.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436249797120872754" border="0" /></a><br />Snowpocolyse, Snowmaggedon, and today: Snowzilla vs. Flakenstein Grudgematch. The mid-atlantic region has recently looked a lot like Alaska (if only Rafa could pull a sled) with record breaking snowfalls blanketing the area. Aside from taking Rafa for snow romps, I was left with a LOT of time to fill this weekend. I have mentioned before that TV sometimes struggles to hold my attention (exceptions of course for Glee, The Wire, Real Housewives of NJ) and now a new unlikely TV hero has arrived to rescue me from hours of snowbound boredom: Patty Stanger. That's right, my friends at Bravo have brought me a little present in the form of The Millionaire Matchmaker. One episode and I was HOOKED. From "sex-toy dave" to the botox ridden "superficial bitch" the entertainment just doesn't stop.<br /><br />We are supposed to get another 12-18 inches of snow, and while I could spend the snowday <a href="http://www.philly.com/dailynews/local/20100205_School_district_looking_for_support-service_applicants.html">saving our schools</a> I will instead be praying for a Millionaire Matchmaker Snowmathon.<br /><br />Edited to add: I was so caught up in relaying my love of Millionaire Matchmaker that I forgot to tell you all about Rafa's future as a search and rescue dog. Rafa's nose is second to none, he can sniff out the dog park and discarded chicken wings from a block away. During our wintry walk on Saturday, he was burrowing his little snout into a three-foot snowbank with purpose! I commented to my walking companion that he clearly had the makings for a search and rescue dog, and all this without ANY training. After nearly a minute of determined pursuit, Rafa resurfaced with his rescue: a raw, semi-frozen chicken cutlet. So provided the would-be victims of the next natural disaster strap themselves with raw poultry before being buried alive by rubble....Rafa to the Rescue!!!Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-24624807869710938572010-01-04T14:29:00.000-08:002010-01-04T14:43:33.460-08:00Suave Tigre!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrMmTo5bEQ2dCR36Z0M-f4DxpUUJHLnKKHq-n1zNPOq9FcYsuGYp2ih0G90SuxUQXzJVO-8jtqma0yhFOPVKC_iEg8RPAikdiS4ThokWaF8jI07RYYn2TK_N_8rIl696NhxBARmPrWnEQM/s1600-h/IMGP0122.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrMmTo5bEQ2dCR36Z0M-f4DxpUUJHLnKKHq-n1zNPOq9FcYsuGYp2ih0G90SuxUQXzJVO-8jtqma0yhFOPVKC_iEg8RPAikdiS4ThokWaF8jI07RYYn2TK_N_8rIl696NhxBARmPrWnEQM/s320/IMGP0122.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423017917108723538" border="0" /></a><br />On Day 1 of our Costa Rican adventure I set out with my Aunt, Uncle and two cousins to Playa del Oro, a remote beach on the pacific coast of costa rica. This was not a beach like Miami, Cancun, or even the Jersey Shore where the sand is packed with groups of people each producing their own symphony of sound. The silence on the beach was blissful and precisely the reason we had flown five hours and driven 2 hours on dirt roads to get here. There were no boom boxes or obnoxiously loud sun bathers; just the sound of the waves and the muted noises of the few other people on the beach. As for the others on the beach…this was a local spot, we were the only Americans on this plot of sand. A fact immediately understood just by glancing in our direction.<br /><br />My aunt and uncle had toted two beach chairs down from my father's house. Not the kind of beach chairs with the various stages of recline and relaxation but rather the short, stout, and stiff variety. The little squat chairs that put your butt approximately a half an inch off the sand and are favored by unnaturally tanned, older women who like to bring them to the water's edge so that they may read their romance novels while the ebb and flow of the sea keeps them cool. There they sat perched upon their striped chairs, he wearing a shirt designed to keep one's base layer dry when performing daunting physical activities like climbing K2 or making breakfast. They also work well at protecting one's winter white body from the beating Costa Rican sun. My aunt employed a more classic technique and was but a stick figure beneath a sun dress, a towel draped across her legs, a baseball hat and sunglasses.<br /><br />I don't know if the books they were reading were boring or they grew tired of watching the waves roll in, but they mutually decided on an impromptu Spanish lesson. And out came the Spanish to English dictionary and the Latin American Phrase Book. The latter quickly became the preferred text and as I drifted in out of awareness from reading my book I could hear the murmurs of mangled Spanish followed immediately by cackles and giggles. I paid closer attention as the impaired declaration of Spanish phrases grew louder. As any born entertainer would, my aunt and uncle sensed the interest growing from my cousins and me and began to play to the crowd. Before long they were shouting these Spanish phrases and I was no longer paying any attention to my book. Because, really, whatever I was reading was not nearly as engaging as the screams of "mas rapido! mas duro! mas lento! suave!" (faster! harder! slower! softer!)<br /><br />My uncle had stumbled upon the chapter dedicated to pillow talk (conveniently located after the chapters on "in the bar" and "pick-up lines") in the phrase book and he and my aunt were now effectively holding a public audition for a Latino porn. When my uncle offered "Queres entrar un rato? (Do you want to come inside for awhile?) My aunt demured "No lo voy a hacer sin protecction" (I won't do it without protections). When my uncle persisted " Vamos a la cama" (Let's go to bed). My aunt shut him down with "Suave Tigre!" (Eaaasy Tiger). <br /><br />Just another day of family fun time at the beach!Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-69041643707492825582009-12-17T10:26:00.000-08:002009-12-17T11:20:59.659-08:00A Less Good Morning America<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHvJ3zdQSmm7GX-9qsZpsftxJ1ctmCfQ8QIHl08TBVENxOD8QiIxVyxCpz1uqBDfBAYmqsGHoHLAAlDVXGcrdZUMGcBHUv_lo7pei8EfutyLPP2tJv44mKmHS5qa65hNSWImUv8fLVVVe/s1600-h/stephanopoulosx.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHvJ3zdQSmm7GX-9qsZpsftxJ1ctmCfQ8QIHl08TBVENxOD8QiIxVyxCpz1uqBDfBAYmqsGHoHLAAlDVXGcrdZUMGcBHUv_lo7pei8EfutyLPP2tJv44mKmHS5qa65hNSWImUv8fLVVVe/s320/stephanopoulosx.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416279618146515474" border="0" /></a><br />Each morning, after a dog walk and shower I sit down to eat my oatmeal, drink a cup of coffee, and watch a little morning TV. It is a time for Rafa and I to discuss what we have on the day's agenda and catch up on current events and the weather. For a long time my morning TV of choice was the Today show on NBC. I like Matt Lauer, LOVE Meredith Vierra, and Ann and Al don't offend me too much. But what I realized after a while of watching Today every morning is that 98% of the show is spent talking about "what's up right after the break" and about 2% of the show is spent on actual segments. You don't really notice at first, it's easy to get lost in the casual banter between Matt and Mer. But when you only have 12 minutes to watch and are actually interested in seeing the segment they were talking about when you first tuned in...you f-ing notice that they don't ever get to it!<br /><br />My frustration grew and grew until I finally did it. I switched to GMA. I loved Dianne Sawyer's good looks and easy way with the guests. I was developing a small but growing crush on Chris Cuomo, and I knew it was time to get ready for work when that insufferable d-bag Sam Champion comes on...the show is not without its imperfections. But just as I was settling into my new routine and new friends at GMA they totally changed everything!<br /><br />I tuned in on Monday to see hat instead of a lovely, blonde Sawyers next to Robin there was this little elfin creature. Mr. Stephanopoulos looks like a child sitting on that couch and I would not be the least bit surprised if his feet don't touch the ground. And at the news desk instead of the handsome Mr. Cuomo there is this lady named Ju Ju who Robin called Choo Choo (like a train) at one point. No one can possibly like this new arrangement.<br /><br />I don't know what I am going to do.Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-29648305247838060402009-12-09T17:40:00.000-08:002009-12-09T18:02:00.405-08:001 and 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://orvillelloyddouglas.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/the-blind-side-poster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 334px;" src="http://orvillelloyddouglas.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/the-blind-side-poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.filmofilia.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/upintheair_poster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 352px;" src="http://www.filmofilia.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/upintheair_poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Last weekend was one of cinematic discovery for me, filled with highs and lows. Friday night I saw the much anticipated (by me) Sandra Bullock movie: The Blind Side. Now, I knew very little about the premise of this movie going into it, but I knew all I needed to. I, for example, knew that I cried tears of joy during the trailer for it (always a promising sign). My desire to see it was further strengthened after reading this from my old buddy A.O Scott at the NYTimes: " a movie made up almost entirely of turning points and yet curiously devoid of drama or suspense...(the film) plays this story straight down the middle, shedding nuance and complication in favor of maximum uplift." Ummm...Sold! Say no more. If I could only use one word to describe this precious little gem of a movie it would be: amazing (speaking of Precious...this movie almost erased any remaining horror and misery I had from see THAT movie). Sandra Bullock gave a spot-on performance as a wealthy, southern lady (a character I know a little something about. Hi Nashville friends!!!!) Combine her sassy ways with a heartwarming underdog story and you have the sleeper hit of the holiday season and my new favorite NFL Team: So long Eagles helllllllllloooo Ravens. Bravo!!!!<br /><br />This, though, was just the beginning of my weekend o' movies. Fast forward to Sunday and I had plans to see the George Clooney pic: Up In the Air. This movie was playing at the Ritz which makes me hesitant from the get go...but I love me some Clooney. Further adding to my hesitation was the glowing review from Manohla Dargis who by most accounts appears to hate going to the movies. This hater of the rom-com and I do not tend to see eye to eye on what makes a great movie but I carried on with my plans knowing at least that there would be a yummy dinner waiting for me after the movie. Well, there I am in the theatre, freezing, but reeeally enjoying this movie. But something was afoot. I had an uneasy feeling throughout all of Clooney's high-flying adventures. Something told me that this movie was too pleasant and fun to watch for that snob Dargis to enjoy. And then....I understood. I don't want to spoil it for anyone but I wished I had just gone to see the Blind Side again. I just don't understand why Clooney is capable of Ocean's 11 and One Fine Day but continues to make drivel like this.Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-59285941327976220472009-12-03T07:11:00.000-08:002009-12-03T07:15:09.177-08:00Foxy's Tale<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGimD0fWgczwSkb4PxKc6mj1DwjjSHB4eVO-QW42Mj_Ke3Bv5g4cixSNau-LpozoItjdQbGGJ3TyytxhoUATXTs4RU3xii1DEXoQlAK4lbWk7gIh5Mlwc8qWj9xf4N8_24GjHjojdY7sY/s1600-h/foxy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 319px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGimD0fWgczwSkb4PxKc6mj1DwjjSHB4eVO-QW42Mj_Ke3Bv5g4cixSNau-LpozoItjdQbGGJ3TyytxhoUATXTs4RU3xii1DEXoQlAK4lbWk7gIh5Mlwc8qWj9xf4N8_24GjHjojdY7sY/s400/foxy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411028601258484066" border="0" /></a><br />After reading the outrage of my many fans I added to Annie's Christmas Book list. Thanks to the wonder of one-click at Amazon...<a href="http://www.foxystale.com/index.html">Foxy's Tale</a> should be arriving at my house in 4-7 days. Ed and Kelly, I would like some sort of commemorative champagne flute for my contribution to the White Wedding Fund.Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-41350583691791017022009-12-02T06:12:00.000-08:002009-12-02T07:16:32.252-08:00Carly Pumpkin ChristmasAs always, Thanksgiving was followed this year by a day of Candy House making. After last year's <a href="http://carly-pumpkin.blogspot.com/2008/12/candy-house-08.html">syscrapers of conspicuous consumption</a>, we returned this year to simpler themes and more modest construction. Alex and I crafted a truly a classic red and green themed home with nod to Hanukkah ( a blue and white sky light).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigH_7L_0W_3_n_7rFHsJjC_U4RC5On-V4BYiN0OAlLG8EIIEtTC2lc0ss8OCBHSFsACIi8jCtNgTixL79lGXvlEJje3ZtfMWErPaPa9XsREPXEdEb42H0vt7KMNA8Q2_APDPGhZUbrp04w/s1600-h/IMG_0353.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigH_7L_0W_3_n_7rFHsJjC_U4RC5On-V4BYiN0OAlLG8EIIEtTC2lc0ss8OCBHSFsACIi8jCtNgTixL79lGXvlEJje3ZtfMWErPaPa9XsREPXEdEb42H0vt7KMNA8Q2_APDPGhZUbrp04w/s320/IMG_0353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410648514742870162" border="0" /></a>We assembled the masterpiece in record time through careful planning, strategy, and cooperative execution. Really though, the house speaks for itself.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFfw64IkabKpmL6ov5tWnNvNbXS0zJtcC_Qq_95TIUsPXDYwO9_v4GBONcrIUAik4Twc_bveWuqDDojsj1rN1JnIpn8dqWKjUwq7__MXYCZFhDr3yn-7FqF8VNLwQuY_c6RCh-YMtLTzJ3/s1600-h/IMG_0376.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFfw64IkabKpmL6ov5tWnNvNbXS0zJtcC_Qq_95TIUsPXDYwO9_v4GBONcrIUAik4Twc_bveWuqDDojsj1rN1JnIpn8dqWKjUwq7__MXYCZFhDr3yn-7FqF8VNLwQuY_c6RCh-YMtLTzJ3/s320/IMG_0376.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410648739533173714" border="0" /></a>I have also gotten a headstart on this year's Christmas shopping. I will be heading to Costa Rica the day after Christmas this year and plan to arrive with a bag full of presents for Baby Annie. So far she is getting books. A few books I loved: Shel Silverstein, Where the Wild Things Are, and a new sure-to-be- classic, Nubs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSXkt8bE7eCaIj2P1opT07z1zJu9XtIKYannOrcwLorKi0IzL83WciifD8nASnRkxm76lrM_FitKxBlu4KsGyTC_K6gga4my5C66xvefaRHvphr5mJZ8pG-7a2qPe9FumgVrADYG_3MGl3/s1600-h/IMG_0392.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSXkt8bE7eCaIj2P1opT07z1zJu9XtIKYannOrcwLorKi0IzL83WciifD8nASnRkxm76lrM_FitKxBlu4KsGyTC_K6gga4my5C66xvefaRHvphr5mJZ8pG-7a2qPe9FumgVrADYG_3MGl3/s320/IMG_0392.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410649126618457282" border="0" /></a>I heard about Nubs a few weeks ago on the Today show and started crying into my oatmeal at the heartwarming story of friendship, determination, and loyalty. It is based on the true story of a Marine and a dog he befriended while on duty in Iraq. The marine and the dog, Nubs, formed a special friendship during his stay in Iraq and when the Marine got reassigned to the Jordani border, little Nubs followed the trail of the convoy some 70 miles and 3 days to be reunited with his soldier buddy. Crying a little bit as I type that.<br /><br />Despite Annie confessing a desire to make "dog soup" she really does love animals, especially canines, and I think she will really like this book!!Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-33586583185800920792009-11-17T06:06:00.001-08:002009-11-17T06:12:55.932-08:00The 600 lb Vegetarian in the Room<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTp__nK8cWLOOpgocToQf0GevX7kUtaGCudAjA00iFydGKRgLgNYmni6uBV2OdoYKpgSD1mHjk13EXfyf8b0tCMsRCxpp7PAvT3PzCo87pP2E78oXNK_cdO4d0J4W-43EZXnAwCgf7RcU/s1600/IMG_0311.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTp__nK8cWLOOpgocToQf0GevX7kUtaGCudAjA00iFydGKRgLgNYmni6uBV2OdoYKpgSD1mHjk13EXfyf8b0tCMsRCxpp7PAvT3PzCo87pP2E78oXNK_cdO4d0J4W-43EZXnAwCgf7RcU/s320/IMG_0311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405073921317872050" border="0" /></a>I have successfully completed week 1 of my vegetarianism and I have survived, although not without consequences. The word vegetarian suggests the consumption of lots and lots of vegetables...well it has been my brief experience that being a vegetarian also includes the consumption of a lot of cheese, butter, and bread. The photo above is my dinner last night (recipe from SmittenKitchen), a sweet potato and chard gratin. It was delicious and dare I say better than bacon. Unfortunately, the dish would be more aptly named milk, butter and cheese, tossed with sweet potatoes and chard.<br /><br />I do feel good that I haven't contributed to the death of any cute creatures this week I just hope those little critters know the price I am paying for their lives. I hope they will still love and support me when I don a sports bra and spandex for my bid on the Biggest Loser.Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-48291741433982424902009-11-12T16:49:00.000-08:002009-11-12T17:04:34.228-08:00mmmm vegetables<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://preparednesspro.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/fresh-vegetables.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://preparednesspro.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/fresh-vegetables.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />When I was 12 years old my family and I took Thanksgiving on the road to the Outer Banks in North Carolina. My father, fancying himself quite the angler, led this holiday road trip so that he could be there for the renowned "bluefish run" on Hatteras Island at the end of November. During the "run" the waves are thick with schools of bluefish...a fisherman's dream come true and as I would soon learn, my worst nightmare. <br /><br />I followed my Dad down to the beach one afternoon, rods in hand ready to catch some of these tasty fish. What greeted me on the beach was not the charming father daughter moment we both hoped for but rather fish genocide unfolding on the shores. Those asshole bluefish had chased the little croakers and spots onto the beach, and the barbaric fisherman were casting multiple lines hoping to rack up as many fish as possible during the short window of the run. There were fish flapping and dying, gasping their last breaths everywhere I looked. I started crying hysterically and frantically trying to return the fish to the ocean. It was all in vain, of course, and after a bit I fled back to the house and promptly became a vegetarian. I remained a vegetarian for close to a year I think (pretty committed for a 12 year old on a whim).<br /><br />Well fast forward 12 (ehhh, 17) years and instead of witnessing fish genocide I read an article and then about 20 more on factory farming. This is precisely the type of topic I try to avoid knowing that it will make me so sad I won't be able to forget about it. However, if I don't know ANYTHING about I can happily eat my burger medium rare and live by the maxim that "everything is better with bacon". Well, no more. After reading these articles and seeing one picture of a cow getting ready to be bolted who could have passed for Rafa's cousin with those soulful brown eyes and shiny black fur, I could no longer revel in blissful ignorance. I am still working out the details of my vegetarianism (like might I eat meat if I know that it was pasture raised and slaughtered humanely) but until those issues are resolved no meat for me!Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-64582678192860334362009-11-10T06:56:00.000-08:002009-11-10T07:05:00.783-08:00This Little Piggy Went to Fairmount...<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbHQEidr6BBXyEPvQ-Pf9sYU5Jej9Imt724LiddlH9cqQiTbjS_nXHk9yI_Uas2TzDXplv8JvUoRVl8QnoBoSRCIBCevri_hVFWJdo-3rGW5Urrr_-ZvNdm8qWAAgu34zh29bOXkMRUS1/s1600-h/piggies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbHQEidr6BBXyEPvQ-Pf9sYU5Jej9Imt724LiddlH9cqQiTbjS_nXHk9yI_Uas2TzDXplv8JvUoRVl8QnoBoSRCIBCevri_hVFWJdo-3rGW5Urrr_-ZvNdm8qWAAgu34zh29bOXkMRUS1/s400/piggies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402490933753184802" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >I just want to push my face against those little snouts!!!!</span><br /><br /></div>Given the current hysteria over the H1n1 virus, I realize this post may be tough sell for some.<br /><br />Every morning when I leave for work, I suffer minor heartbreak at seeing my little Rafa bear's face as he realizes that he is about to settle in for several uninterrupted hours of solitude. A piece of me dies each morning. I often think that I should get another dog to keep him company but Rafa has shown some slight tendencies toward unwelcome only-child behavior. Let's just say he needs a little work on playing well with others when they are in his house. We are working on this and definite progress is being made, but at present we are not ready to welcome another <span style="font-style: italic;">canine</span> family member. But then this morning I read <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/10/science/10angier.html?em">this</a> and it got me to thinking maybe we could welcome a new <span style="font-style: italic;">swine</span> family member!!!<br /><br />They are cute, smart, obedient, and would take care of the issue I have when my trash fills up by sunday...but trash day isn't until tuesday. And I think this is way more practical than when I wanted to get a <a href="http://carly-pumpkin.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-want-walrus.html">walrus.</a>Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6313346709524040837.post-78864751628849417562009-10-15T16:17:00.000-07:002009-10-15T16:41:13.305-07:00Eat. Pray. Do As I Say.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nleNQOsz85YvCLkR2p_soR5x17rvtHBZXcKGHA2pdbvsn-BDMr_TcZOOA48nkxYRmY9jGID-vevLcBG7OuvscOdnXZjukPHDN9nhUszvbIuwgARVApBSSxJDYDMsSX-hzCjWr2r7-V_e/s1600-h/IMG_0248.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nleNQOsz85YvCLkR2p_soR5x17rvtHBZXcKGHA2pdbvsn-BDMr_TcZOOA48nkxYRmY9jGID-vevLcBG7OuvscOdnXZjukPHDN9nhUszvbIuwgARVApBSSxJDYDMsSX-hzCjWr2r7-V_e/s320/IMG_0248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392972886502768162" border="0" /></a> Boone, NC (i took this pic with my new camera!)<br /><br />Rafa and I are just back from a wonderful long weekend in the mountains of North Carolina. The weekend was just perfect: filled with friends, food, activities, simply gorgeous surroundings, and Rafa really came into his own as a mountain dog! Our days were spent hiking, eating, playing games, painting, doing yoga, and reading (just writing that makes me want to go back). Though the hikes were challenging and the game competition fierce, it was really the reading that caused the most hostility during the trip.<br /><br />Specifically, it was the book that I am reading called "Eat. Pray. Love." that caused all of my travel companions to get all up in arms. Apparently, they have something against self-discovery and contentment. I have to admit that I, too, was skeptical about reading this book. You may not know this about me, given my pedestrian movie tastes, but I am kind of a cultural snob. I have avoided the Da Vinci Code like the freaking plague and if there is a book you don't want me to ever read...just go ahead and put that Oprah's book club sticker on it and consider it done.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bookwag.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/eat-pray-love.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 326px; height: 500px;" src="http://bookwag.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/eat-pray-love.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />One Sunday, a couple of weeks ago, I was strolling around Border's looking for something new to read and EPL was prominently displayed on one of the front tables. So I picked it up and read the back and decided to give it a go. Here I should probably admit that Julia Roberts is currently filming the movie version of EPL and this played a not insignificant role in my decision.<br /><br /><br />Anyway, the book is about a woman whose life falls apart and who then decides to travel the world looking to explore the concepts of happiness, spirituality, and balance. I tore through the section on Italy where she described, in salivating detail, all the meals and pleasure she experienced there. Next, we were off to India to spend 4 months in an Ashram. This part was, admittedly, less up my alley. Not sure I am into all that deprivation and chanting.<br /><br />I am now onto Bali and hoping that this section brings the book to a close on a high note. Spoiler alert: I already know she falls in love and it has a true-life, it could happen to you fairy tale ending...also a factor in my decision to read the book.<br /><br />I will report back just as soon as I am finished.Carlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03992602582321479332noreply@blogger.com4