If
each moment
expires
in a second,
how can
anything
last
f
o
r
e
v
e
r
except love?
each moment
expires
in a second,
how can
anything
last
f
o
r
e
v
e
r
except love?
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
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
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
Sunday, April 5, 2009
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
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
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Trouble at the Fishing Hole
YouTube - Lucky's Funeral
Sometimes it takes a tragedy to inspire creation.
I have returned from my time away fishing to the sad news that Lucky the fish has died. He was a close relative to several of the fish in the fish pond here on the Linda Land blog. Since the fish were unable to attend the funeral, I have posted it here for their viewing convenience to pay their last respects to a beloved family member.
Linda Land would like to send condolences and warm thoughts to all those who grieve today, not only for the fishes but to all those who are missing loved ones.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Sometimes it takes a tragedy to inspire creation.
I have returned from my time away fishing to the sad news that Lucky the fish has died. He was a close relative to several of the fish in the fish pond here on the Linda Land blog. Since the fish were unable to attend the funeral, I have posted it here for their viewing convenience to pay their last respects to a beloved family member.
Linda Land would like to send condolences and warm thoughts to all those who grieve today, not only for the fishes but to all those who are missing loved ones.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Facebooked
I have joined facebook and it is an interesting life experience. There are so many people that I've lost touch with in Seattle and within a few minutes I am back in touch with them. I like that a lot. Also, the instant reconnection with those from my high school has been a joyful surprise.
Leaving Harrisburg PA was a good thing for me. I left a year after high school and did not return until I was nearly 40. That was also a really good thing for me! Harrisburg holds a lot of painful memories but over the years I've healed and seeing old friends from school has been great. If you told me in while I was in school that one of the biggest jocks in my class would grow up to be a clown...a white-faced, rainbow-wigged clown, I would have said IMPOSSIBLE!
But life is full of servings of impossible pie.
Facebook can be a bit addictive...checking to see who is checking you out and what they are writing. It is fun! Like being at a virtual party! But like any party, there are always those people who you might not want to see or those who don't want to see you! There is a quiet humilation about Facebook that happens when you ask someone to be your friend and they ignore you. Just like a party! Good times!
What has been good about has been feeling connected. I have many soul-sisters on this planet and we are all reconnected again....well, most of us.
As I reconnect with the world, I am transported back to emotions I've felt in the past and now is a good time to heal those old wounds and to reexamine past predijuices. In high school I had so many hang-ups and insecurities...some which last until very recently! So it is good to look at them and move on!
On another note, I've added a good friend of mine's blog on here. He's just been diagnosed with leukemia and is in treatment and has a good prognosis. If you have a second to stop by his blog and give him some good vibes.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Leaving Harrisburg PA was a good thing for me. I left a year after high school and did not return until I was nearly 40. That was also a really good thing for me! Harrisburg holds a lot of painful memories but over the years I've healed and seeing old friends from school has been great. If you told me in while I was in school that one of the biggest jocks in my class would grow up to be a clown...a white-faced, rainbow-wigged clown, I would have said IMPOSSIBLE!
But life is full of servings of impossible pie.
Facebook can be a bit addictive...checking to see who is checking you out and what they are writing. It is fun! Like being at a virtual party! But like any party, there are always those people who you might not want to see or those who don't want to see you! There is a quiet humilation about Facebook that happens when you ask someone to be your friend and they ignore you. Just like a party! Good times!
What has been good about has been feeling connected. I have many soul-sisters on this planet and we are all reconnected again....well, most of us.
As I reconnect with the world, I am transported back to emotions I've felt in the past and now is a good time to heal those old wounds and to reexamine past predijuices. In high school I had so many hang-ups and insecurities...some which last until very recently! So it is good to look at them and move on!
On another note, I've added a good friend of mine's blog on here. He's just been diagnosed with leukemia and is in treatment and has a good prognosis. If you have a second to stop by his blog and give him some good vibes.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Ice Cube
I've been house sitting on Park Slope, which is like the yuppie neighborhood of Brooklyn. My girlfriend has dashed off to the Caribbean with her devistatingly handsome boyfriend for a week of romping in warm tropical blue waters. I have the pleasure of sleeping with her three lovely kitties. Warm kittens are a treat.
Since moving to New York, I've been renting a room in a duplex with several other people. It's been a good experience for me to live strangers but there is a tiny kitchen and I don't feel comfortable cooking there, so house sitting fills that void.
What I notice that I've missed making the most is ice. I love ice. I love to make ice in different shapes or to buy party ice making every cold beverage a celebration. So even though it is freezing outside, I've been lamenting the joys of making ice.
Where I live, we have a tiny refrigerator especially for 5 people. I get a shelf and a little corner of the freezer for my food and generally it's enough to keep my full and fresh.
But now I want my own place again. One with a big freezer for my massive ice collection.
Dreams can happen...I belive...I belive in ice.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Since moving to New York, I've been renting a room in a duplex with several other people. It's been a good experience for me to live strangers but there is a tiny kitchen and I don't feel comfortable cooking there, so house sitting fills that void.
What I notice that I've missed making the most is ice. I love ice. I love to make ice in different shapes or to buy party ice making every cold beverage a celebration. So even though it is freezing outside, I've been lamenting the joys of making ice.
Where I live, we have a tiny refrigerator especially for 5 people. I get a shelf and a little corner of the freezer for my food and generally it's enough to keep my full and fresh.
But now I want my own place again. One with a big freezer for my massive ice collection.
Dreams can happen...I belive...I belive in ice.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
New York Observations
New York is the only city in the world where people put their coffee in bags. New Yorkers are not led by the hand with their hot coffees, they hide the hot beverages in plain brown paper bags until they are at their destination where they can give their full attention to their coffee or tea.
When a native New Yorker is ordering 2 or more cups of coffee and you offer them a carrying tray, they look at you like you are crazy and request a bag. To me, a bag is a poor choice for hot beverages. Coffee leaks out of the top of the cup and gets the bag wet and it tears and rips, but to the experienced New Yorker, it doesn't happen.
One of my favorite Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy movies is "Desk Set". Kate is the head of a TV Network Research Department and Spencer is an efficiency specialist who plans on replacing the department with a super computer. IBM plays a big role in the movie too and it shows the start of the computer revolution. As Kate and Spencer get to know each other, they have a rooftop lunch meeting of bologna sandwiches and black coffee. They pull the coffee out of brown paper bags.
That is SO New York!
If you haven't watched this film from 1957, I really recommend it. I love to see how working women of these days were referred to as "girls". They have a holiday party at work and each gal has their own bottle of Champagne not to mention the Scotch bottles everywhere! It is good fun!
As a winter storm approaches, I cling to my hot coffee the old fashioned way, in my hand. The heat helps to keep me warm.
Pray for snow!
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
When a native New Yorker is ordering 2 or more cups of coffee and you offer them a carrying tray, they look at you like you are crazy and request a bag. To me, a bag is a poor choice for hot beverages. Coffee leaks out of the top of the cup and gets the bag wet and it tears and rips, but to the experienced New Yorker, it doesn't happen.
One of my favorite Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy movies is "Desk Set". Kate is the head of a TV Network Research Department and Spencer is an efficiency specialist who plans on replacing the department with a super computer. IBM plays a big role in the movie too and it shows the start of the computer revolution. As Kate and Spencer get to know each other, they have a rooftop lunch meeting of bologna sandwiches and black coffee. They pull the coffee out of brown paper bags.
That is SO New York!
If you haven't watched this film from 1957, I really recommend it. I love to see how working women of these days were referred to as "girls". They have a holiday party at work and each gal has their own bottle of Champagne not to mention the Scotch bottles everywhere! It is good fun!
As a winter storm approaches, I cling to my hot coffee the old fashioned way, in my hand. The heat helps to keep me warm.
Pray for snow!
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Monday, January 26, 2009
Oh golly...
It has been cold and without snow in New York. I feel ripped off! What is the point of having cold weather if not to prepare for snow? Snow makes cold better!
I love the snow.
Dear Mighty Jesus,
Hey there! How you doing? Have you recovered from your rocking birthday party? I heard Dick Clark was a LAUGHING RIOT at your birthday jam. That impersonation of Carol Channing will live on FOREVER!
But seriously J, the cold weather here in New York is fine and I'm nearly recovered from that ice skating incident last month...so how about giving a girl a break and bring on some serious SNOW! I want to walk through Central Park in the snow!
Okay, I won't beg. Thanks for all your hard work and all that jazz.
Your pal,
Linda
Let's see if that works.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
I love the snow.
Dear Mighty Jesus,
Hey there! How you doing? Have you recovered from your rocking birthday party? I heard Dick Clark was a LAUGHING RIOT at your birthday jam. That impersonation of Carol Channing will live on FOREVER!
But seriously J, the cold weather here in New York is fine and I'm nearly recovered from that ice skating incident last month...so how about giving a girl a break and bring on some serious SNOW! I want to walk through Central Park in the snow!
Okay, I won't beg. Thanks for all your hard work and all that jazz.
Your pal,
Linda
Let's see if that works.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Puppet Company Seeks Magician
Now there is a job ad that catches your eye. It is good to know that in this failing economy that there are still good jobs available for the experienced magician. Actually, there were 6 ads for magicians today on Craigslist.org. But they were not all posted today.
I wonder how many unemployed magicians there are in New York City. And with each magician there is also an assistant so whatever the number is it must be doubled. I'm not adding New Jersey because then the number would be astronomical. For some reason I think there are a lot of magicians in Jersey...probably cheaper to get doves and rabbits there plus there are some great scarf outlet stores off the turnpike too.
That's all I'm wondering about today...surfing the internet looking for fun in all the fun places.
So much love,
All the way from over here,
Linda
I wonder how many unemployed magicians there are in New York City. And with each magician there is also an assistant so whatever the number is it must be doubled. I'm not adding New Jersey because then the number would be astronomical. For some reason I think there are a lot of magicians in Jersey...probably cheaper to get doves and rabbits there plus there are some great scarf outlet stores off the turnpike too.
That's all I'm wondering about today...surfing the internet looking for fun in all the fun places.
So much love,
All the way from over here,
Linda
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Been Too Long
Oh, the drama of Cupcake Land...
My assistant manager went missing for 5 days. Her big sister is my boss. The little sister went on a drinking binge and was hit by a car at 3 in the morning. She had no identification and her sister found her in the hospital after calling the local jails in search for her. The big sister is in denial that the little sister has any problems. The little sister is in denial that she is an alcoholic.
And me?
I'm here trying to sell the stinking cupcakes.
Can I get a witness?
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
My assistant manager went missing for 5 days. Her big sister is my boss. The little sister went on a drinking binge and was hit by a car at 3 in the morning. She had no identification and her sister found her in the hospital after calling the local jails in search for her. The big sister is in denial that the little sister has any problems. The little sister is in denial that she is an alcoholic.
And me?
I'm here trying to sell the stinking cupcakes.
Can I get a witness?
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Christmas Day
Another Christmas has come and I am up to my usual celebratory ways: sleeping in late, eating yummy food, watching movies and visiting with loved ones. That is the way I celebrate, oh and there will be champagne later...which is a great tradition too.
Last night, I took myself to the Plaza Hotel after watching thousands of frantic shoppers running up and down 5th Ave looking for the right gift to buy family and friends. So many people run at this frantic-fast pace and I feel like a boulder in the river that they rush past while my life and pace is slow. I used to be one of those people running here and there and I think I was seeking perfection. What I discovered is that it doesn't exist. There is no need to live at that pace. That is not the way of this world. At least, it helps no one to live at that pace...especially me.
In the cupcake shop yesterday, people were sometimes jolly, but most were irate that we sold out of product. Pity really. I had one woman screaming at me on the phone, using the "F" word because she didn't place a special order and I did not have her Red Velvet cupcakes. That is the spirit of Christmas? I tried to offer her other suggestions, even a Red Velvet cake, but this information seemed to fuel her hostility. It is the getting trapped in the one vision and not allowing what is presented to choose and shift directions. I mean, she told me she was going to a party and wanted the cupcakes but a cake (which cost less than the dozen of cupcakes she wanted) looked more holidayish and could be enjoyed by more people and yet it did not fit into her vision, so she became upset. That seems foolish to me. Instead of choosing the cake, she hung up on me. Another customer over-heard my end of the discussion and he bought the cake with a smile. People, really....let's pull it together!
Working in retail is only for the very strong or those with very bad karma. I haven't decided which one applies to me. Sometimes I think I must have been very, very bad in a past lifetime because I keep putting myself into this retail world. Or maybe I am strong. Who knows.
The Christians are not the only ones who are full of bad behavior. I had a Jewish woman call and yell at me because of the price of our Chanukah donuts and delivery cost. Three times she called to let me know how upset she was; she wanted to fight. Luckily I learned a lot of excellent listening skills at the Boca Raton Whole Foods Market and I was able to defuse the situation. I said, "Mrs. Cohen, if you keep calling me just to fight, I am more than happy to accommodate you. However, if you would like me to move forward and place your special order before the bakery closes I suggest you let me get back to my business. Let me remind you, you are under no obligation to purchase our products and if you are dissatisfied, I suggest you find another doughnut retailer for your Chanukah needs." This put her in her place and settled her right down.
There are seven nights and days of doughnuts for the Chanukah customers. Oh goodie.
I earned my twenty dollar dirty martini at the Plaza Hotel last night. And it tasted damned good too. After my drink, the sun had set and Christmas lights were in full glory. Shops closed and the exhausted retail staff finished up as they readied themselves to go on their merry way.
I strolled down 5th Avenue, now less crowded, looking at all the windows and I must say, the windows at Bergdorf Goodman were the most spectacular. The theme was the seasons but all decorated in winter white and all that sparkled and glittered. It is breathtakingly beautiful and if you have a chance to check it out, do it. You won't regret it.
Enjoy your holiday today and let's try to remember to be kinder to one another. This is the very least we can do.
Ho ho ho and all that jazz
And so much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Last night, I took myself to the Plaza Hotel after watching thousands of frantic shoppers running up and down 5th Ave looking for the right gift to buy family and friends. So many people run at this frantic-fast pace and I feel like a boulder in the river that they rush past while my life and pace is slow. I used to be one of those people running here and there and I think I was seeking perfection. What I discovered is that it doesn't exist. There is no need to live at that pace. That is not the way of this world. At least, it helps no one to live at that pace...especially me.
In the cupcake shop yesterday, people were sometimes jolly, but most were irate that we sold out of product. Pity really. I had one woman screaming at me on the phone, using the "F" word because she didn't place a special order and I did not have her Red Velvet cupcakes. That is the spirit of Christmas? I tried to offer her other suggestions, even a Red Velvet cake, but this information seemed to fuel her hostility. It is the getting trapped in the one vision and not allowing what is presented to choose and shift directions. I mean, she told me she was going to a party and wanted the cupcakes but a cake (which cost less than the dozen of cupcakes she wanted) looked more holidayish and could be enjoyed by more people and yet it did not fit into her vision, so she became upset. That seems foolish to me. Instead of choosing the cake, she hung up on me. Another customer over-heard my end of the discussion and he bought the cake with a smile. People, really....let's pull it together!
Working in retail is only for the very strong or those with very bad karma. I haven't decided which one applies to me. Sometimes I think I must have been very, very bad in a past lifetime because I keep putting myself into this retail world. Or maybe I am strong. Who knows.
The Christians are not the only ones who are full of bad behavior. I had a Jewish woman call and yell at me because of the price of our Chanukah donuts and delivery cost. Three times she called to let me know how upset she was; she wanted to fight. Luckily I learned a lot of excellent listening skills at the Boca Raton Whole Foods Market and I was able to defuse the situation. I said, "Mrs. Cohen, if you keep calling me just to fight, I am more than happy to accommodate you. However, if you would like me to move forward and place your special order before the bakery closes I suggest you let me get back to my business. Let me remind you, you are under no obligation to purchase our products and if you are dissatisfied, I suggest you find another doughnut retailer for your Chanukah needs." This put her in her place and settled her right down.
There are seven nights and days of doughnuts for the Chanukah customers. Oh goodie.
I earned my twenty dollar dirty martini at the Plaza Hotel last night. And it tasted damned good too. After my drink, the sun had set and Christmas lights were in full glory. Shops closed and the exhausted retail staff finished up as they readied themselves to go on their merry way.
I strolled down 5th Avenue, now less crowded, looking at all the windows and I must say, the windows at Bergdorf Goodman were the most spectacular. The theme was the seasons but all decorated in winter white and all that sparkled and glittered. It is breathtakingly beautiful and if you have a chance to check it out, do it. You won't regret it.
Enjoy your holiday today and let's try to remember to be kinder to one another. This is the very least we can do.
Ho ho ho and all that jazz
And so much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Laid-up
I'm so lucky. No broken bones. Must be all the yogurt I eat or green vegetables. No matter what the cause, I feel like there are some powerful forces looking out for me.
The gray rainy New York skies remind me of Seattle as I convalesce with movies and tasty snacks. But with so much time on my hands and mediocre movies from the library, I am led to thoughts of my life, particularly the question of what am I doing? I have this quality about myself to push and push life uphill and for what? What is the reason why? I say I want to write, yet I don't write. I say I want to get out of the cupcake world and yet I stay.
My words and thoughts do not match my actions.
Grey skies are melancholy and I wonder if I will ever get my act together...but who has their act together? Everyone has something they are dealing with. And I do not feel like I am exceptional with my load. I guess I would like some kind of break. Like a blessing from above, to come into my life....some sort of good fortune dropped into my lap.
And what if I have that right now? What if this little, boring, uninteresting cupcake job is a stroke of good fortune? I mean, I can eat all the overly sweet cupcakes I want. Isn't that a good thing? No. Life is short and you should eat dessert first, but dessert should be something tasty that you love and I do not love these cupcakes.
Each deep breath I take reminds me of my good luck that my ribs are merely seriously bruised and not broken. Perhaps this is god's good grace. This is the gift and the pain a reminder of luck and all that I do have. And how I wished I had health insurance and paid time off to cover my medical bills and recovery time. But that's not how America works. What a sad state we live in here in the USA.
And yet there is much to be grateful this year, and not that it is just coming to an end. There were a lot of scares this past year, too much time spent in hospitals, many prayers answered and a lot of personal risks taken.
Who knows what the next year will bring. This last one has been exciting and unpredictable. Let's hope there is grace, kindness, love and abundant sunshine in our next forecast.
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
The gray rainy New York skies remind me of Seattle as I convalesce with movies and tasty snacks. But with so much time on my hands and mediocre movies from the library, I am led to thoughts of my life, particularly the question of what am I doing? I have this quality about myself to push and push life uphill and for what? What is the reason why? I say I want to write, yet I don't write. I say I want to get out of the cupcake world and yet I stay.
My words and thoughts do not match my actions.
Grey skies are melancholy and I wonder if I will ever get my act together...but who has their act together? Everyone has something they are dealing with. And I do not feel like I am exceptional with my load. I guess I would like some kind of break. Like a blessing from above, to come into my life....some sort of good fortune dropped into my lap.
And what if I have that right now? What if this little, boring, uninteresting cupcake job is a stroke of good fortune? I mean, I can eat all the overly sweet cupcakes I want. Isn't that a good thing? No. Life is short and you should eat dessert first, but dessert should be something tasty that you love and I do not love these cupcakes.
Each deep breath I take reminds me of my good luck that my ribs are merely seriously bruised and not broken. Perhaps this is god's good grace. This is the gift and the pain a reminder of luck and all that I do have. And how I wished I had health insurance and paid time off to cover my medical bills and recovery time. But that's not how America works. What a sad state we live in here in the USA.
And yet there is much to be grateful this year, and not that it is just coming to an end. There were a lot of scares this past year, too much time spent in hospitals, many prayers answered and a lot of personal risks taken.
Who knows what the next year will bring. This last one has been exciting and unpredictable. Let's hope there is grace, kindness, love and abundant sunshine in our next forecast.
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Ice Skating Under The Full Moon
Last night it happened. The moon was at its fullest and positioned the closest it would be to earth for the next year. It was a perfect cold winter's night, a mere 28 degrees Fahrenheit (that's -2.22222 Celsius for my Italian scientist readers) and it was the night I would break in my new ice skates at Bryant Park.
I bundled myself up in many, many layers to protect from the blowing wind. Undershirt, thermal turtle neck sweater, a cotton turtle neck sweater over the thermal, a layer of fleece on my upper body and below I layered two pairs of long johns (one cotton, the other polyester) heavy denim jeans, one pair of wool socks and thick cotton socks over them followed by the usual scarf, hat, gloves, and leather jacket. I decided against my long winter coat because I wanted freedom of movement on the ice and I have yet to purchase a winter waist coat.
My skates arrived in the mail the day before and I was like a kid at Christmas unwrapping the package to reveal the brand new, never worn leather ice skates that were from some old ice rink. They fit perfectly. I felt conflicted about my decision to spray paint them silver. The skates were nude with a black stripe down the back and since they were vintage, they were super cool looking. They even had the size in white on the heel of the boot, but that went away with a few strokes of my black sharpie.
Keep them nude, I decided as I packed my bag and headed to the G Train to take me to the 7 and Bryant Park. The sun set as I arrived at the winter wonderland. Christmas lights, holiday music, specialty shops and hot cocoa fill the block and a half park behind the NYC Public Library. It is a magical experience.
The line to enter the ice rink snakes around specialty kiosks and word spreads down the line that we should be inside in less than two hours! I had forgotten that there might be a wait but had nothing else planned and the time passed quickly. Ahead of me was a family of four from Pittsburgh who make the pilgrimage every year to go holiday shopping in the city. As we were in line, they called all their friends back home and retold the days events of shopping at Macy's, the over-priced lunch they had and now waiting for two hours to go ice skating at Bryant Park.
I tuned them out and visualized the skating lessons I'd watched on YouTube earlier in the day. It had been over ten years since I was on the ice and I thought a few pointers would be a good idea. Like a professional basketball player shooting hoops in his mind, I visualized myself easily skating around the rink, taking quick-quick steps, keeping my feet togethere, doing the cross-over steps around the bend and working towards the center to practice backwards skating.
Time flew by and by six PM I entered the rink. The place was packed with mostly teenagers and preteens unsupervised by parents. I'd forgotten that might be the case since the ice rink was free of charge...the only one in the city that was free. Never mind the kids, my first task was to get my skates sharpened since they were dull and had never been used before. Check. Done. Next, get a locker to stash stuff. Done. Time to hit the ice.
By six fifteen I was on the ice, wobbling as I remembered how to stand. I stayed close to the edge until an inner voice said to me, "Linda, you know how to skate, so go skate already!" And I did so. No sooner had I made it around the rink once did an announcement come on instructing all the skaters to leave the ice for cleaning.
We all skate off the ice and I marveled as the Zamboni performed its circular dance twice aroundd the ice. Piles of ice shavings melted away making a smooth surface which instantly refroze from the dark, cold night.
Fifteen minutes later and I'm one of the first back on the ice. As the others piled on, I enjoyed the fresh ice to practice skating backwards and was in heaven. The children filled the ice rink and more and more people piled on the ice making it a sea of black coats and hats. Most of the skaters were inexperienced and grabbed on to anyone one near them to prevent them from falling which caused both people to go down.
One young woman did just that as she skated in the wrong direction head onto to me. I caught her and we embraced like old lovers. She apologized and I told her we were lucky! She agreed and skated on her way.
More and more people entered the ice and it became harder to skate because I was too worried about the other skaters and what they were doing. I skated a few more times around and decided that maybe I should take a break for a couple of hours and come back once the kids cleared out. I over heard several groups of kids that said they had to leave at seven. Plus the mood hadn't risen yet. I wanted to skate under the moon!
My last time around the rink I thought to myself how great it was that I was skating and hadn't fallen. Good for me! Just then, a kid wizzed by pushing me and I fell face down, flat on my face. The wind was knocked out of me and I heard a clear snap as I landed on the ice. People gathered around me asking if I was okay but I didn't realize they were talking to me. I was in another place...a place of red pain that filled my body.
The skating guards cleared the crowd and helped me up speaking to me like a child saying, "Your alright. You're a big girl. It will be okay." I asked for help getting up and they escourted me off the ice. Maybe I just had the wind knocked out of me. If I sat down for a bit I was sure I'd feel better.
Each breath in was a sharp pain and I quickly realized that I'd either broken a rib or at the very least bruised had bruised my ribs. Slowly I pulled myself together to gather my things and start the trek home to examine my injuries.
It was six fifty PM. I got in nearly a half-hour of skating! Clutching my side, struggling to hold my skates, the security guard told me there was no reentry once I left the rink due to the huge crowd, but if I skated during the weekdays I could return after exiting. I clutched my side all the way home and watched the moon rise above my house as I got home. It was a beautiful moon, full and bright on the clear, cold night.
I'm hoping my cracked rib will be healed before the last day of skating on Januarye 25th, 2009. WebMD says it takes about six weeks for a cracked rib to heal and if I keep a low profile, rest, take my deep breaths and follow the doctor's orders, I should be back on the ice before the last skating session.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
I bundled myself up in many, many layers to protect from the blowing wind. Undershirt, thermal turtle neck sweater, a cotton turtle neck sweater over the thermal, a layer of fleece on my upper body and below I layered two pairs of long johns (one cotton, the other polyester) heavy denim jeans, one pair of wool socks and thick cotton socks over them followed by the usual scarf, hat, gloves, and leather jacket. I decided against my long winter coat because I wanted freedom of movement on the ice and I have yet to purchase a winter waist coat.
My skates arrived in the mail the day before and I was like a kid at Christmas unwrapping the package to reveal the brand new, never worn leather ice skates that were from some old ice rink. They fit perfectly. I felt conflicted about my decision to spray paint them silver. The skates were nude with a black stripe down the back and since they were vintage, they were super cool looking. They even had the size in white on the heel of the boot, but that went away with a few strokes of my black sharpie.
Keep them nude, I decided as I packed my bag and headed to the G Train to take me to the 7 and Bryant Park. The sun set as I arrived at the winter wonderland. Christmas lights, holiday music, specialty shops and hot cocoa fill the block and a half park behind the NYC Public Library. It is a magical experience.
The line to enter the ice rink snakes around specialty kiosks and word spreads down the line that we should be inside in less than two hours! I had forgotten that there might be a wait but had nothing else planned and the time passed quickly. Ahead of me was a family of four from Pittsburgh who make the pilgrimage every year to go holiday shopping in the city. As we were in line, they called all their friends back home and retold the days events of shopping at Macy's, the over-priced lunch they had and now waiting for two hours to go ice skating at Bryant Park.
I tuned them out and visualized the skating lessons I'd watched on YouTube earlier in the day. It had been over ten years since I was on the ice and I thought a few pointers would be a good idea. Like a professional basketball player shooting hoops in his mind, I visualized myself easily skating around the rink, taking quick-quick steps, keeping my feet togethere, doing the cross-over steps around the bend and working towards the center to practice backwards skating.
Time flew by and by six PM I entered the rink. The place was packed with mostly teenagers and preteens unsupervised by parents. I'd forgotten that might be the case since the ice rink was free of charge...the only one in the city that was free. Never mind the kids, my first task was to get my skates sharpened since they were dull and had never been used before. Check. Done. Next, get a locker to stash stuff. Done. Time to hit the ice.
By six fifteen I was on the ice, wobbling as I remembered how to stand. I stayed close to the edge until an inner voice said to me, "Linda, you know how to skate, so go skate already!" And I did so. No sooner had I made it around the rink once did an announcement come on instructing all the skaters to leave the ice for cleaning.
We all skate off the ice and I marveled as the Zamboni performed its circular dance twice aroundd the ice. Piles of ice shavings melted away making a smooth surface which instantly refroze from the dark, cold night.
Fifteen minutes later and I'm one of the first back on the ice. As the others piled on, I enjoyed the fresh ice to practice skating backwards and was in heaven. The children filled the ice rink and more and more people piled on the ice making it a sea of black coats and hats. Most of the skaters were inexperienced and grabbed on to anyone one near them to prevent them from falling which caused both people to go down.
One young woman did just that as she skated in the wrong direction head onto to me. I caught her and we embraced like old lovers. She apologized and I told her we were lucky! She agreed and skated on her way.
More and more people entered the ice and it became harder to skate because I was too worried about the other skaters and what they were doing. I skated a few more times around and decided that maybe I should take a break for a couple of hours and come back once the kids cleared out. I over heard several groups of kids that said they had to leave at seven. Plus the mood hadn't risen yet. I wanted to skate under the moon!
My last time around the rink I thought to myself how great it was that I was skating and hadn't fallen. Good for me! Just then, a kid wizzed by pushing me and I fell face down, flat on my face. The wind was knocked out of me and I heard a clear snap as I landed on the ice. People gathered around me asking if I was okay but I didn't realize they were talking to me. I was in another place...a place of red pain that filled my body.
The skating guards cleared the crowd and helped me up speaking to me like a child saying, "Your alright. You're a big girl. It will be okay." I asked for help getting up and they escourted me off the ice. Maybe I just had the wind knocked out of me. If I sat down for a bit I was sure I'd feel better.
Each breath in was a sharp pain and I quickly realized that I'd either broken a rib or at the very least bruised had bruised my ribs. Slowly I pulled myself together to gather my things and start the trek home to examine my injuries.
It was six fifty PM. I got in nearly a half-hour of skating! Clutching my side, struggling to hold my skates, the security guard told me there was no reentry once I left the rink due to the huge crowd, but if I skated during the weekdays I could return after exiting. I clutched my side all the way home and watched the moon rise above my house as I got home. It was a beautiful moon, full and bright on the clear, cold night.
I'm hoping my cracked rib will be healed before the last day of skating on Januarye 25th, 2009. WebMD says it takes about six weeks for a cracked rib to heal and if I keep a low profile, rest, take my deep breaths and follow the doctor's orders, I should be back on the ice before the last skating session.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Gigerbread House
I wrote and posted this piece a year ago on the Patsycat Cafe, my old blog, which I took down. But someone found it and commented that it should be read by others. So since I am laid up again from my ice skating injury, I decided to post it again.
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
GINGERBREAD HOUSE
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
GINGERBREAD HOUSE
I'm still out sick from work. I took in my Kitchen Aid mixer into work because they are making gingerbread houses today for our big event tomorrow and I haven’t been able to buy one yet for the store.
What’s the event?
Build and decorate your own gingerbread house with all natural and organic edible candies and treats.
Very cool…bring the kids, spend an afternoon and have some hot coco or mulled cider, snack on the candies while you are decorating…good old-fashioned clean fun for the whole family and all for one low, low price!
Life works in such funny ways…you see, this awesome event failed to make it onto the calendar and I talked about it in the store meeting and so team members have been talking it up and I’m out sick for a week so the team is going to have to pull together to put this event together.
So I took my mixer in so they could make the gingerbread. I created the house templates and gave some direction and then quickly realized that I really feel much better when I’m at home. I mean, I feel so much better than yesterday but I’m not ready to be working again.
But one thing I did notice is that I have been really lonely. I didn’t think so because I’ve been on the phone a lot, but I’m missing human contact…face to face conversations. And being with other people is so critical for me or else it leads to loneliness which leads to depression which is not a place I’m going…but I did notice what was missing. This is progress. I can be rather self-unaware at times.
I mean I’ve been in my house sick since last Sunday. Today is Friday. Thank god I’ve been taking baths because without other people around, I can start to smell pretty bad. And in my past it would have happened as “missing time”….
Here’s the good news: Yes, I’ve been sick but this is the first time I’ve let people know how sick I am and I have accepted help from my neighbors like plates of food and visits. This time I haven’t awakened not known what day it is because it’s been a couple days that I’d been sleeping in and out of illness. When you’re home sick alone it can do a number on your mind…especially if you are prone to think about the future in any way….you know….find the spinster lady in her house with the cats….but they find her because of the smell?
I know, crazy…and my point is that I didn’t go there! This is good news! I am recognizing how dependent I am on other people….this has been a big issue for me because I am so goddamned independent! I can hear all my past boyfriends shouting out with glee, “FINALLY! SHE GETS IT!!” I think I’ve been a bad girlfriend.
Please accept my apology gentlemen. I am sorry. I know I’ll do better this time. I promises.
You know, there’s a lot I don’t understand about men but my teachers come in all forms. For example, Nick at work has really taught me a lot about men. I’ve told him so too. He told me really early in our working relationship that he needs to be needed. I didn’t understand because I hated that the team members needed me for so much stupid shit! I thought being needed is good, yeah, sure, but to what point? How much “being needed” is good for a person?
That being my perspective, I didn’t quite understand his need to be needed but I put the information away somewhere in my brain and some time later I noticed that our relationship changed. When we first started working together, we were close but I noticed us drifting apart. I found some of the things he did irritating and I didn’t understand his behavior at work….and then I got really involved in a new project which excited my soul and I drifted further and further away from my regular duties and into my new life.
I started missing Nick and when we were connected and I remembered his need so I started to look for ways he could help me. I asked first for a little favor and his spirit light right up. It was then that I saw how he responded when he was needed. It is as if being of service to another is the greatest gift he could give someone.
I started asking for more and more help and we became closer than we had ever been. Our friendship grew to such a level of trust that I knew that if I needed something, away from work….like if my car broke down, I could call him. That’s such a great feeling! Not only did we become great friends and coworkers, I got a hell of a lot more shit done because he wanted to do it and the sense of security has been very freeing. Bingo. Surprise. Stability can be freeing. That’s the real lesson I am learning today.
So what am I doing today during my final convalescing time besides reflecting on men (naturally…they are so intriguing…) and snacking, napping, resting, listening to music…and…wishing I could go for a swim?
I am making a gingerbread house.
But I’m not decorating it with candy.
I’ve got another idea….
I got a lot of drugs I’m not on any more…you know…pharmaceuticals… good shit too, baby. I can’t sell them on the street and it seems like a waste to flush them down the toilet and they have so many pretty colors and shapes...
I got a hot glue gun but I'm gonna use royal icing in case of emergency. You can't take a pill with the hot glue, but just in case I decide I need to go back on Lexapro, I can still take it.
I got a lot of time on my hands.
This is gonna be one hell of a holiday season! Feeling stressed out? Stop by my place and help yourself to my gingerbread house. The little yellow ones are Valium! Pudgy white ones are Xanax (or vitamin "Z" as I like to call it.)Help yourself! Anyone out there who has some high blood pressure, please help yourself. Feeling really anxious? Have a Clonzapam! I got 'em all, baby!
I love entertaining.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Brrrrr.....snow's a coming!
It is winter in New York. Christmas lights are up and the temperatures are a dropping! We're supposed to have snow on Sunday. Let's hope that we do! I love snow! And what I love just about as much as snow is ice skating!
NYC is known for skating in Central Park or at Rockefeller Center, but there are lots of other places to skate too that cost next to nothing ($4 for all day) to free (Bryant Park!) So my latest mission is to buy my own skates and hit the ice.
Now, I'm no Tanya Harding, but I used to be able to hold my own, back in the day skating around the pond in our old neighborhood. I loved winter when all the ponds froze. The neighborhood kids would discuss if we thought the ice was solid enough to skate on and then somebody would have to test the ice for thickness. To test ice, you need a brave, skinny kid and from there you add more kids and weight.
Everyone was silent when the reluctant tester took their first steps onto the ice, listening to hear if there is a slow creaking of the ice or a fast, hard cracking sound. The ice tester stops to listen if the ice is giving a little to the weight or if it is breaking. If it's breaking and your fast, you can make it back to shore without falling in, but if you slip? You are screwed! But when you're 14 years old, you take those kinds of risks.
And if it had been snowing, then we'd have to shovel all the snow off the pond before skating and you gotta do a good job too to not leave any holes or dents in the ice or else you'll fall or trip over them with your skates. And watch out for tree branches that have froze into the ice too, they can mess you up! There's no Zamboni here!
Skating under the moonlight was one of my most favorite memories as a kid. The silence of the night, crispness of the air and warming up rewards of building a fire and making hot cocoa is what I remember most fondly about winter in Pennsylvania. I am so excited for my first winter in New York. I'm probably the only person in the city who feels that way, too!
I've ordered my long johns, and I've got a big warm coat, but I think I'll need to find something less blanket-like to be on the ice, but if I layer up good under the jeans, I might be fine in my latest leather biker jacket (with the symbol of the Illuminati painted on the back!)
So if I'm not writing, look for me on the ice. If all goes well, I may be skating by Sunday! Look out Tanya!
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
NYC is known for skating in Central Park or at Rockefeller Center, but there are lots of other places to skate too that cost next to nothing ($4 for all day) to free (Bryant Park!) So my latest mission is to buy my own skates and hit the ice.
Now, I'm no Tanya Harding, but I used to be able to hold my own, back in the day skating around the pond in our old neighborhood. I loved winter when all the ponds froze. The neighborhood kids would discuss if we thought the ice was solid enough to skate on and then somebody would have to test the ice for thickness. To test ice, you need a brave, skinny kid and from there you add more kids and weight.
Everyone was silent when the reluctant tester took their first steps onto the ice, listening to hear if there is a slow creaking of the ice or a fast, hard cracking sound. The ice tester stops to listen if the ice is giving a little to the weight or if it is breaking. If it's breaking and your fast, you can make it back to shore without falling in, but if you slip? You are screwed! But when you're 14 years old, you take those kinds of risks.
And if it had been snowing, then we'd have to shovel all the snow off the pond before skating and you gotta do a good job too to not leave any holes or dents in the ice or else you'll fall or trip over them with your skates. And watch out for tree branches that have froze into the ice too, they can mess you up! There's no Zamboni here!
Skating under the moonlight was one of my most favorite memories as a kid. The silence of the night, crispness of the air and warming up rewards of building a fire and making hot cocoa is what I remember most fondly about winter in Pennsylvania. I am so excited for my first winter in New York. I'm probably the only person in the city who feels that way, too!
I've ordered my long johns, and I've got a big warm coat, but I think I'll need to find something less blanket-like to be on the ice, but if I layer up good under the jeans, I might be fine in my latest leather biker jacket (with the symbol of the Illuminati painted on the back!)
So if I'm not writing, look for me on the ice. If all goes well, I may be skating by Sunday! Look out Tanya!
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Release Forms
I just received release forms for my poem "Beloved" which will be published in a poetry anthology early next year. I'd forgotten about my contribution and thought the project was either lost or it was forgotten; something to not get off the ground. So I will begin 2009 with publication.
Yippe!
It is a rainy Sunday morning in Brooklyn and I have the house all to myself for the first time since I moved in. I've had the pleasure of sitting on the couch (which I don't usually get to do) and free-range of the kitchen.
I think I'll spend the day looking for a new place to live. These sorts of things shouldn't be something that one is allowed to do every so often, but rather every day. I especially miss cooking.
Off to Craigslist!
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
Yippe!
It is a rainy Sunday morning in Brooklyn and I have the house all to myself for the first time since I moved in. I've had the pleasure of sitting on the couch (which I don't usually get to do) and free-range of the kitchen.
I think I'll spend the day looking for a new place to live. These sorts of things shouldn't be something that one is allowed to do every so often, but rather every day. I especially miss cooking.
Off to Craigslist!
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
New Hope
Much of my life in New York has been centered around waking up early to get ready to serve the cupcakes. I am hoping to change the focus back to writing soon. I've moved to a less busy shop, at my request, so I can have more time for writing, walking, talking on the phone and general socializing. I believe this is happening which makes me feel much brighter.
So it is my promise that I will work on updating and writing more frequently. I apologize for my sporadic posts, but it has been a rocky transition for me in this cupcake world and if I can just get a sense of balance going, all will be well.
In the meantime, I will continue to take notes and fantasize about my new rock opera, Cupcake Hell and continue to compose the Butter Cream Blues in my head until I find a piano and a great bass player. I'm feeling the music in me wanting to come out!
But I will write more and soon too.
Thanks for your patience and understanding.
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
So it is my promise that I will work on updating and writing more frequently. I apologize for my sporadic posts, but it has been a rocky transition for me in this cupcake world and if I can just get a sense of balance going, all will be well.
In the meantime, I will continue to take notes and fantasize about my new rock opera, Cupcake Hell and continue to compose the Butter Cream Blues in my head until I find a piano and a great bass player. I'm feeling the music in me wanting to come out!
But I will write more and soon too.
Thanks for your patience and understanding.
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Not time yet
As I adjust to the crazy world of cupcakes and this lifestyle of very early wake-up calls and Madison Ave...my writing has been sparse. What I am writing is not upbeat but rather pensive and ponderous.
The time I find for writing is in the very early morning while waiting for the subway train. I eavesdrop on the Metro Transit Authority (MTA) workers and am intrigued by their lives down in the hole. That's what they call it, "Another day in the hole." Overnight construction crews finish up at 5 AM. I take the 5:01 train, so my ride is scattered with workers, tired from a long night of walking the rails repairing damaged lines, staying on their guard to not touch the live 3rd rail which will send 13,000 volts of electricity though the body for instant death.
It is another world at this hour of the morning and I feel privileged to witness it. The dichotomy of the ride to work from my poor, mostly African-American neighborhood to the heart of Madison avenue is startling. When I arrive at work the phone rings off the hook from frantic executive assistants panicked to get their emergency same-day delivery of cupcakes to Versce, Jimmy Choo, JP Morgan, Deutsche Bank, Cartier, Tiffany's and every NBC executive at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. The executive assistants think nothing about the same-day-delivery charge of $18 before the cost of the cupcakes. What matters is getting them their cupcakes before the time of the presentation or big meeting.
The sense of urgency is unreal and it is all just like the cupcakes...unhealthy.
I've asked to be transferred to another location and that will start in a week.
They're putting me at the Wall Street store. I'm sure there's no tension downtown in the financial district.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
The time I find for writing is in the very early morning while waiting for the subway train. I eavesdrop on the Metro Transit Authority (MTA) workers and am intrigued by their lives down in the hole. That's what they call it, "Another day in the hole." Overnight construction crews finish up at 5 AM. I take the 5:01 train, so my ride is scattered with workers, tired from a long night of walking the rails repairing damaged lines, staying on their guard to not touch the live 3rd rail which will send 13,000 volts of electricity though the body for instant death.
It is another world at this hour of the morning and I feel privileged to witness it. The dichotomy of the ride to work from my poor, mostly African-American neighborhood to the heart of Madison avenue is startling. When I arrive at work the phone rings off the hook from frantic executive assistants panicked to get their emergency same-day delivery of cupcakes to Versce, Jimmy Choo, JP Morgan, Deutsche Bank, Cartier, Tiffany's and every NBC executive at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. The executive assistants think nothing about the same-day-delivery charge of $18 before the cost of the cupcakes. What matters is getting them their cupcakes before the time of the presentation or big meeting.
The sense of urgency is unreal and it is all just like the cupcakes...unhealthy.
I've asked to be transferred to another location and that will start in a week.
They're putting me at the Wall Street store. I'm sure there's no tension downtown in the financial district.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Cupcake Conversations
I've been spending my time opening up a new cupcake store in Union Square, New York City and have been pretty focused on that and not writing. Next week I am opening up the flagship store on Madison Ave and 53rd street, right across from Cartier. Fancy Pants location for sure! A girlfriend asked me asking where the hell I'd been lately all I could say was, "Up to my elbows in cupcakes!" Literally.
In the failing economy, people take comfort in food and alcohol so business is booming. The flow of business is much like a stream that ebbs and flows busy for a little bit and then slow for a bit which makes for easy preparation for the next busy time. During this quiet time there is plenty to do such as restocking cupcakes, brewing coffee, or taking a break to taste the latest cupcake specials. It is during these times that the inevitable calorie discussion begin.
"How many calories you think this one's got?" 20 year old Mike from the Bronx asks in his thick accent. Gold chains layered around his neck dangling above the Red Velvet treat and his frayed skull-n-crossbones baseball cap is studded with rhinestones. I pray the subway dirt doesn't fall into the cupcakes
"Oh, that one's an easy 1250." Kate replies. She's a button-downed, clean-cut preppy-type girl in her late teens and training to open the new Stanford, CT. store next week.
"1250 NOTHING!" Mike says. "Girl, you off! That baby's gotta be 2K!" Mike is confident of his cupcake calorie guess and is passionate about winning any discussion.
Why are these kids discussing a calorie count of a cupcake?
On July 1st in New York City, a new law went into effect requiring all foods service establishments with 15 outlets or more that serve standardized portions (i.e.: McDonald's, Starbucks, Wendy's etc...) must provide the consumer with the caloric content of each item, in the same sized typeset as the menu items for the consumer so they can make an educated choice and perhaps a healthier selection. This law was passed on the coat-tails of the zero trans-fats allowed law which people are still upset about. God bless the people who can't live without Crisco for a day!
The company I am working for is small (8 stores today) and rapidly expanding in New York City, Connecticut, New Jersey, and soon Atlanta, Chicago, Dallas, Seattle and pretty much anywhere there is a hungry cupcake consumer. With continued expansion in NYC, the caloric count will be mandatory because the law is based on total number of outlets not just the outlets in the city. So they will be required to post on each sign the name of the cupcake and the caloric count.
These cupcakes are the size of a big man's fist! One bite into it and my teeth start to hurt from the intense sugar-shock! And it is fascinating to watch people shove them into their pie-hole without a second thought and then quickly order a second or third.
So the stand-around conversations are kind of like the "What time do you think it is?" game. That is a game where no one is allowed a watch or clock and you try to guess the exact time (using Price is Right rules of course...whoever guess is closest to the actual time without going over wins!) But in the "Guess the Time" game you have a chance of verifying answer. The time game strategy is all about mind-fucking your opponent by trying to out-psyche their guess. I am brilliant at this part of the game and Karen can attest to that. There have been many times when she's been right on the money but my questioning of her final answer and planting seeds of doubt are masterful. No one can deny that I love a good game and am quite competitive. Let's just call that a Leo thing.
The caloric count game is pure speculation. My original guesses began at 1500 calories a cupcake. I settled on this number after looking at the calorie counts of muffins for sale at Starbucks which are much smaller than the products we sell and average 400-600 calories each. Yikes! A breakfast treat with NO protein or any sustainable energy for 600 calories? NO THANK YOU! Before moving to New York, I regularly spoiled myself with a slice of Starbuck's lemon pound cake as a treat until I discovered that it too was close to 700 calories...and not all that satisfying. It was easy to release this habit.
NOTE: I do like this law because they have to list the calories on all the beverages that Starbucks sells too, which I think is a very good idea.
So now I am moving my cupcake guess closer to 2000 calories. The frosting is packed with sugar, butter and cream cheese not to mention the cake ingredients. Oh golly! I can hardly wait until the numbers are released.
But until that day, I say go ahead...have your cupcake and eat it too. The bliss in ignorance is Utopian. All will be revealed soon enough.
So much love,
All the way from the diabetes clinic,
Linda
In the failing economy, people take comfort in food and alcohol so business is booming. The flow of business is much like a stream that ebbs and flows busy for a little bit and then slow for a bit which makes for easy preparation for the next busy time. During this quiet time there is plenty to do such as restocking cupcakes, brewing coffee, or taking a break to taste the latest cupcake specials. It is during these times that the inevitable calorie discussion begin.
"How many calories you think this one's got?" 20 year old Mike from the Bronx asks in his thick accent. Gold chains layered around his neck dangling above the Red Velvet treat and his frayed skull-n-crossbones baseball cap is studded with rhinestones. I pray the subway dirt doesn't fall into the cupcakes
"Oh, that one's an easy 1250." Kate replies. She's a button-downed, clean-cut preppy-type girl in her late teens and training to open the new Stanford, CT. store next week.
"1250 NOTHING!" Mike says. "Girl, you off! That baby's gotta be 2K!" Mike is confident of his cupcake calorie guess and is passionate about winning any discussion.
Why are these kids discussing a calorie count of a cupcake?
On July 1st in New York City, a new law went into effect requiring all foods service establishments with 15 outlets or more that serve standardized portions (i.e.: McDonald's, Starbucks, Wendy's etc...) must provide the consumer with the caloric content of each item, in the same sized typeset as the menu items for the consumer so they can make an educated choice and perhaps a healthier selection. This law was passed on the coat-tails of the zero trans-fats allowed law which people are still upset about. God bless the people who can't live without Crisco for a day!
The company I am working for is small (8 stores today) and rapidly expanding in New York City, Connecticut, New Jersey, and soon Atlanta, Chicago, Dallas, Seattle and pretty much anywhere there is a hungry cupcake consumer. With continued expansion in NYC, the caloric count will be mandatory because the law is based on total number of outlets not just the outlets in the city. So they will be required to post on each sign the name of the cupcake and the caloric count.
These cupcakes are the size of a big man's fist! One bite into it and my teeth start to hurt from the intense sugar-shock! And it is fascinating to watch people shove them into their pie-hole without a second thought and then quickly order a second or third.
So the stand-around conversations are kind of like the "What time do you think it is?" game. That is a game where no one is allowed a watch or clock and you try to guess the exact time (using Price is Right rules of course...whoever guess is closest to the actual time without going over wins!) But in the "Guess the Time" game you have a chance of verifying answer. The time game strategy is all about mind-fucking your opponent by trying to out-psyche their guess. I am brilliant at this part of the game and Karen can attest to that. There have been many times when she's been right on the money but my questioning of her final answer and planting seeds of doubt are masterful. No one can deny that I love a good game and am quite competitive. Let's just call that a Leo thing.
The caloric count game is pure speculation. My original guesses began at 1500 calories a cupcake. I settled on this number after looking at the calorie counts of muffins for sale at Starbucks which are much smaller than the products we sell and average 400-600 calories each. Yikes! A breakfast treat with NO protein or any sustainable energy for 600 calories? NO THANK YOU! Before moving to New York, I regularly spoiled myself with a slice of Starbuck's lemon pound cake as a treat until I discovered that it too was close to 700 calories...and not all that satisfying. It was easy to release this habit.
NOTE: I do like this law because they have to list the calories on all the beverages that Starbucks sells too, which I think is a very good idea.
So now I am moving my cupcake guess closer to 2000 calories. The frosting is packed with sugar, butter and cream cheese not to mention the cake ingredients. Oh golly! I can hardly wait until the numbers are released.
But until that day, I say go ahead...have your cupcake and eat it too. The bliss in ignorance is Utopian. All will be revealed soon enough.
So much love,
All the way from the diabetes clinic,
Linda
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Things I love
I love sunny days in Autumn witnessing the emerald leaves transform to ruby reds and shimmering gold. I love the first deep breath once stepping into the chilly outdoors before embarking on a long walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. And the awe inspiring views of bustling city-life happening all around, feeling connected to strangers, doing their best to live another busy day on planet earth.
So much love,
All the way from....
over here
Linda
So much love,
All the way from....
over here
Linda
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