Science Twin

Science Twin is headed to Germany tonight, then off to Finland. There must be some exciting news in the science world that he will discover. Business Twin will be on his own for the week living large in the $3500 a month studio apartment they share in the building above my cupcake shop. The tall, dark and handsome duo moved in a couple of months ago and quickly became staff favorites after we figured out there were two of them and not one manically changing his clothes from street grunge to business attire.

Their adorable nature made it easy for us all to become super-best friends. Last month, while the girls and I were out celebrating the store's success at a champagne brunch, The Twins were at the exact same restaurant as we were in Lower East Side! What a surprise! And they accused us of stalking them! We laughed and accused them of the same thing. They told us their names again for the five hundredth time, but we just called them by their coffee drinks or how they're dressed. So that makes them Science Twin and Business Twin. Business is 1 minute older than Science and he plays the responsible, serious type well. Science Twin is happier by nature.

Business Twin has a bitchy, Upper West Side girlfriend. We saw her at brunch and she scowled at us, jealous of the beautiful girls fawning over her lover. It's okay sweetheart, none of us really want him anyway.

We create nicknames for all the regulars. It helps to not know their names but find out details about their lives slowly and then form random opinions and fantasies. We attract a lot of attractive men, down here on Wall Street. In our tiny cupcake shop the pulsating female energy pours onto the steel, cold high-rises.

More to come......

So much love,
All the way over here....
Linda

The Creative Process

I love watching interviews and profiles on artists and their process towards creating. It helps me to identify myself as an artist which is something I have struggled with in my adult life. Profiles on artists, musicians, chefs, are all good and my favorite is watching the process of architects, especially Frank Gehry and Frank Lloyd Wright. I don't think that you have to be named Frank to follow your creation in unconventional ways, but I guess it doesn't hurt.

Sydney Pollack made a documentary film for PBS's American Master's Series about his good friend, Frank Gehry and in the film asked him about his creative process. Where did he start when he had a new project? How did he start? Frank said he cleaned his desk, made unnecessary appointments, got a cup of coffee, made some calls, and avoided his desk. He said he suffered from anxiety and worry that he would not be able to top his last work or be able to do it again at all. When in reality, all his work gets better and better, he has that old fear that he won't be able to create again. Even with all his success, he is still afraid that he will not be able to do it again.

Frank also gets inspiration from other artists, paintings and crumpled pieces of paper. Inspiration can come in any form, the secret is remaining open to listen to the crumpled paper, which is obvious when looking at his work. But maybe it is obvious because he speaks the paper's language. Frank has taught himself to quiet his own mind so he is able to listen to the crumpled paper speak to him. He sees and hears his inspiration.

Is my mind open enough and quiet enough to hear the inspiration offered to me?

This weekend I was inspired by some tiny Clementines which I candied with ginger root.

Inspiration is everywhere. The real question is, am I ready to hear it? Is it time to receive?

So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda

Excuses, excuses

I don't have a good opening first line to start writing something about, so I'll just start here. Even if it isn't grammatically correct. I promised that I'd write again so here it is.

It was surprising to me to realize that so many of my friends read my blog. It also has helped me face my performance anxiety. That's a good excuse, huh? Hang with me, I got a million of 'em!

I made a promise to my previous housemate that I would not write about him or his children during my duration of living there. Once I was out, my world and writing were my own again. He was going through a messy divorce having been with his wife for 18 years and they had two children together. When I moved in, he said he had 50% custody of the kids, that they'd be there every other weekend, and every Monday night to Wednesday mornings.

It sounded like it could work out and the room I was renting was priced all inclusive for heat, electric, wifi, paper goods, etc... I intended to save a lot of money so we all make sacrifices for our choices.

Several weeks after I moved in was when I discovered that the two kids were a bit off. It was after Simon, a 12 year old boy, sat outside my bedroom door barking like a dog for 45 minutes while the father was downstairs visiting the neighbors. He channeled many animals and liked to sound them out.

Turns out he is developmentally disabled and heavily medicated.

Sarah, a 10 year old girl, took to kicking our shared wall for hours on end. She is Autistic.

Long story short; if I wanted to be in a sexless marriage with two kids I couldn't stand, I'd have gotten married. I reached my breaking point and the universe provided me with a better opportunity.

So...here we are. Me unsure about what to write about and you reading my latest excuse for not writing.

It's like playing the piano or riding a bike...I need to get back into practice.

So much love,
All the way from over here....
Lindae

I heard that!

Most people don't do things that I do, like hitting the four corners of the continental US in about a week unless they are on some kind of press junket for a new movie or a book tour. My trip was more of a soul retrieval of the most extraordinary kind.

I received many hugs and much love during my journey and there was one loud complaint I heard in Seattle, Long Beach, Ft. Lauderdale, North Carolina and in New York.

No blog updates! What gives?

Here's the story: There were no blog updates because I wasn't writing.

Okay. I hear you. Time to write again.

I am often afraid that I have nothing to say, but that is an old story that has been playing in my head so I've smashed that record and am starting anew.

Thanks for your love, support and kick in the pants.

I have nothing but love for you....
All the way from over here,
Linda

Eternity

If

each moment

expires

in a second,

how can

anything

last

f
o
r
e
v
e
r

except love?

Dropping like Flies

Smoking Jew was fired today. He is a good customer always arriving right before 10 AM after the hour and half long train ride from Connecticut. Sometimes his wife (who was fired about 6 months ago) comes with him just to visit friends in the city. She doesn't smoke but tolerates his nicotine addiction. They both were in software sales on Wall Street and love the coffee at the cupcake shop. I have to agree, it's pretty good coffee.

He was pretty pissed off as I poured his last cup. Smoking Jew said he got a lead on a contract job from Deutch Bank , the one next to Trump Tower on Wall Street, but with his wife out for so long and now this, he doesn't know how long he will be able to make it. He has been cutting back on his spending for months...except for his daily cup or two of coffee ($2/per cup).

I gave him a Brownie cupcake, his favorite and told him there would always be a cupcake available for him here at the shop. He gave me a fake enthusiastic toothy grin with his spreading, nicotine stained yellow teeth showing. Too bad he didn't take advantage of his dental plan while he had the chance. I wanted to tell him to stop by his dentist for a cleaning before his next interview, but Smoking Jew knows what he is doing. He's been down this road before. Jobs come and go.

As he put cream and sugar in his drink I told him that we were expanding and hiring aggressively and with his sales background, I am sure he'd be a natural at selling cupcakes. He glared at me under his over-grown black eyebrows shooting me a vibe that said, "You are NOT helping!"

Hey, I never thought I'd be running a cupcakes either, brother.

Smoking Jew went outside with his coffee to smoke his last cigarette in front of my store, careful to not to exhale the toxic gray smoke near the open front door.

Poor guy.

Smoke away sweet little Jew...smoke away.

So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda

The Green Tortoise Part XVI

Note to Readers: The last installment of The Green Tortoise was published on September 9th, 2008. When we were last together, the bus has been diagnosed as having a broken level so it tilts at a sharp angle causing people to fall out of bunks and loose items rolling downhill to the driver's side of the bus. We visit Old Faithful at Yellowstone and were denied our campsite due to the Rainbow Gathering in Wyoming which has caused several disturbances and arrests...fucking hippies! So we are headed back to the Grand Tetons National Park to spend another night which is neaerly 5 hours headed West as we try to make our way across the country in 14 days.

Wednesday, July 2nd, 2008:

I am cranky on the ride back to the Grand Tetons. We won't get there until after dark and will still have to set-up camp, build the kitchen, find water, start fires etc...so dinner won't be until 8:30 or so and I'm hungry and pissed off that we are not spending more time in Yellowstone. There is much discussion on the bus about the lack of alcohol and the party kids start pestering Driver Dave to stop off at a liquor store somewhere, but we are on National Park land and there are no ABC Drive Thru liquor stores here and many do not drink beer (which is what they do sell at the camp store.) An agreement is met and we will drive further south to Jackson Hole to stop at a liquor store inside a resort so the party can get started.

It will be another cold night tonight and sleeping outside will be required by many since half the berths are uninhabitabal. At the resort I find a coffee shop and order a club sandwich and fries to go and wolf it down with a Coke. You burn a lot more calories while at high altitude and it not only makes you sleepy, it makes you hungry too. When we make it back to camp the sun was setting and it was nearly 7:30. I rally some energy and stuff my dirty laundry and towel in a bundle and hike a mile and a half to the camp showers and laundry. Hot water feels good and my skin is warm as I slip on thermal underware fresh from the dryer.

Camp is set and dinner cleaned up by the time I returned and I found there was space on the lower side of the bus available for sleeping so I bundled up for another of temperatures in the low 30's F. (1 to 2 Celsius) and my mind races with complaints fading in and out as I fall into a deep sleep.

The camp woke-up drunk. Despite the bear warning signs everywhere, empty whisky bottles litter the fire pit. I am one of the first to wake and start hot water for coffee. The plan today is to get out of camp as early as possible so we can drive all the way through Yellowstone and Wyoming so we can get to Chico Montana hot springs. That means, all excursions in Yellowstone have been canceled and we have to boogie to get to Montana by the 4th of July so we can get the parts to fix the bus and the air conditioner.

This is what "Flexible Itinerary" means in Green Tortoise speak.

Driver Dave puts a positive spin on our itinary change saying that in all the years that he's been driver on the Green Tortoise, he's never been to a Rodeo before and there's one happening in Brodus MT, our next stop. Yippee.

The early risers finish breakfast wake the partiers who decline food choosing only coffee or tea. They reak and there is no time for the long trek to the showers. We have a tight schedule today and our goal is to hit the hot springs tonight. We pack a lunch after breakfast, tear down camp and hit the road.

Driver Dave hits the bunk to sleep a few hours so the drunk ones head to the back of the bus to sleep it off as we drive the exact same drive we did the day before. It is still spectacular despite the Weird Al Yankovich CD playing. The Germans think it is hysterical. And I thought only the French had terrible taste in humor!

Six hours later we approach the Mamoth Hot Springs area and Driver Dave emerges to instruct Casie to drop us off to get a hike in and to meet down another canyon. I pay attention to the pick-up point as they drive us to the drop-off a couple miles up a mountain. I decide on the ride up that I am not going to hike down. Instead I will ride back to the pick-up spot and spend some much needed time at the little shops and resort. Hopefully they have internet and cell phone reception. I think there is a town close by so I am pryaing for human contact with loved ones.

There is a god and I am able to find cell phone reception and a charger all at the same time so I call Karen to check-in. Time I steal for myself feels like gold. There is great ice cream here and all is well for the entire time I am alone sitting in the sun. I fill out postcards in different charactors, my favorite being a confederate soldier wandering in the cold foothills of Virginia that read,

"My Dearest Beloved, Another cold night in the hills but my heart is warm thinking of you. Days of walking are soon to pay off. General Lee says it won't be much longer before we take Pennsylvania and are back home with pig in our bellies. That would be good too since I have grown weary from the hot mush. A cold, lonly wind crosses our camp and I miss thee."

I look up from my writing as the "Adventure Bus" passes and I notice their bus isn't leaning hard to the left as it slowly maneuvers the sharp turns through Mamote Village. My two hours of solitude are nearly over and I am back on the bus for another 4 hours to Chico Hot Springs.

It costs $3.50 to go into the hot springs at the Chico Hot Springs Resort and Hotel and I wish I were checking-in. The hot springs are piped into a large swiming pool which is body temperature. There is a smaller very hot mineral pool that I try but can only stay in for a minute or two, it is so hot. Not all the passengers enjoy the hot pool. Others decide to eat at the resaurants or have drinks in the bar. I swim, take a shower and check my email and look for train tickets from Chicago to NYC. I try to make a reservation but cannot because I don't know when we will be in Chicago. At this rate, we may be several days late...and who knows if the parts have arrived or if there is a mechanic willing to work on Independence Day to install parts and fix the air conditioning.

We board the bus again and drive in the dark to Brodus Montana arriving late, we unpack and set-up camp in the dark.

So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda