Last week, my husband Jon and I celebrated 7 years of marriage, and in June, we marked 10 years of togetherness.
Everyone jokes about the 7 Year Itch. But I have it, y’all.
Except…it’s on my finger.
First photo with my ring after we got engaged in 2006.
You see, somewhere in the last year, I developed an allergy* to my white gold wedding rings. Sure, some skeevy dudes may say they’re “allergic” to their rings, when really they’re not wearing them so they can mac on chicks, but this is no lie. Wearing my rings has started to cause my finger to immediately break out into a red, bumpy, itchy rash. I figured out it was the gold because my silver stacking rings, a Valentine’s gift that I wear on my right hand, don’t cause the same problem.
“I’m allergic to my wedding rings,” I announced to my doctor hubby one day, showing him the rash. He asked if I meant symbolically or literally, but thank goodness, the only itch I’ve got is the one on my finger. I’m not itching to get out of our relationship or marriage at all.
And my best friend and hubby was handy in diagnosing my problem too. It turns out it’s fairly common for people to develop allergies to the nickel used as an alloy with the gold to make it strong enough to stand up to the wear and tear it gets as jewelry. But he’s seen enough nickel allergies to know I don’t have it, since nickel is also commonly used in the hardware on things like jeans, and I don’t develop a similar rash to the rivet on the waistband of my blue jeans. Also, the gold posts on my pearl earrings have started irritating my ears, too. So, I am forced to conclude, I’m having an issue with gold, not nickel.
I’ve taken to wearing one of my silver stacking bands on my left hand as a placeholder, but I’d really like to get back to wearing my rings again. I hear a temporary solution is to coat the ring in clear nail polish, and a permanent one is to get it plated with rhodium.
As for seven years, I’m happy to celebrate how far we’ve come. Becoming parents has truly been the hardest thing our partnership has endured, far more stressful than moving cross country, grief, and trauma. Still, there’s no one else I’d rather be raising my family and living alongside.
We celebrated lucky number seven with a little road trip to Texas, spending a night in a bed and breakfast in Dallas, checking out the 6th Floor Museum at Dealey Plaza and the Dallas Museum of Art, and then continuing to Austin for LOTS of tacos, a visit to the LBJ library (thankfully for me, my husband indulges my political geekery), visiting with friends, seeing the bats, and eating some BBQ. It was a lovely getaway, and we’re super thankful that family took care of our kids and pets so we could get that time together.
We stayed at the lovely Corinthian Bed and Breakfast in Dallas.Beautiful glass work by Dale Chihuly at the DMA.Visiting the LBJ library on the UT campus. He passed such an amazing amount of progressive policy!Pretty sure Jon wanted to keep the Jeep we rented for the trip.Stopped by Wendy Davis’ office, and even though she wasn’t in, some of her staff let me take a picture in her office. Big fan!
*Allergies can develop at any time, even after years of exposure without event to the allergen. This is why when people tell me they “aren’t allergic” to something like poison ivy, I always tell them, just wait! With enough exposures, you’ll eventually trigger a reaction!
In high school, I was convinced that I was going to grow up, move to NYC, and be a writer.
I grew up, I’m a writer, but I do NOT live in the big city. Still, two visits have now confirmed, I love the city. And I love other big cities I’ve visited too, like London, DC, LA, and Denver. Last year, we had the opportunity to move to NYC, even, and were sorely tempted, but the job wasn’t right for Jon, and in Little Rock we stayed. Now, Little Rock is a LOVELY city, but it’s got Little right there in the name. And while I will be the first to sing the praises of La Petit Roche, it’s not exactly bustling. So, I will have to scratch my city itch with periodic trips to real metropolises, like I did this weekend. I went to NYC with my sister Jessica to help her pick out a wedding dress and have some fun.
We used Air BnB (which we have used and loved before, in Costa Rica) to find a place with a cool young couple in SoHo, so I think we traveled more like locals than tourists (thanks for a great time, Alex and Lil!). I mean, it doesn’t get much more authentic than trudging up to a 6th floor walkup over a curry place, does it?
In addition to our (successful) wedding dress mission, we were all over the city. We revisited some spots I loved on my last trip (food may have to be a post in and of itself), saw MoMA, saw the Empire State Building, walked the Brooklyn Bridge, checked out the DUMBO area, explored the Upper East Side, saw an amazing concert (shoutout to my sister’s friend Jessica who got us in to see Lord Huron for free! Which, locals, they’re playing Stickyz tonight, so go see them!), and ended our weekend with an evening in Little Italy. We walked a million miles on swollen feet (haven’t had that experience since pregnancy!), enjoyed some excellent people watching, and just had the BEST time. I’m already dying to get back and wondering if I can swing a yearly Seester Trip to the city.
Here are just a few of the highlights:
People around me were looking up, so I turned around, and saw this. Oh hi there.Lord Huron. Never heard them before the show, but they’re a new fave. They kind of sound like Fleet Foxes with a bit of a western twang.The Manhattan Bridge is beautiful.
Jessica taking pics on the Brooklyn Bridge.
Shortly after this, I was very nearly killed by a kamikaze cyclist. I saw my life flash before my eyes.View from the Empire State Building.
Seester Love!Eating my bagel and lox from Russ and Daughter’s on a bench in SoHo.
Last weekend we took our first baby-free weekend to visit my sister in Nashville while the girls stayed with their Nonni and Poppi. A good time was had by all.
We also visited my heaven, aka the most amazing new and used book store called Bookman Bookwoman.
On the trip, I still had to do some reading for grad school, and this week it was Jorge Borges, an Argentinian writer. His short stories kind of warped my brain a little bit, as they explore themes of infinity, truth vs. fiction, what is truly real, the way fiction influences reality,and other crazy themes. They also feature a lot of labyrinths. At least two of the stories I read featured books, particularly 1001 Nights, influencing reality in strange ways. And then I began to feel the stories themselves were influencing me…..
First, I read a short story in which a man has died of an overdose of a drug called “veronal,” only to realize I had just read a completely unrelated story by a totally different author for another class that featured a woman trying to kill herself with the same drug. Coincidence, or books reading my mind? Then, I read a story about a labyrinth right before we went to check out a corn maze! (You can check out my sister’s post on the subject here.) Verdict on the corn maze: it was maybe 30 minutes too long, but hey, at least it wasn’t infinite! Also: do NOT tell us not to pick corn. Also: thank God we didn’t have a small child with us, because even we were very much DONE by the time we found our way out. And: essentially, any kind of scenic activity for my sister and me becomes an Instagram field trip. We may have even “styled” some cornstalks for better shots.
Many jokes of the “what the shuck?” variety were made.
American GothicSeesters.Jon reaps a freaky-assed harvest. (If you aren’t squeamish about cuss words, check out the McSweeny’s piece “It’s Decorative Gourd Season Motherfuckers.” You will not regret it.)
Also mind-bending was the simultaneous feeling of absolute freedom to be away from the girls, staying up late, having cocktails, sleeping in, and also missing them to pieces at the same time. We squeed over every picture and video Nonni sent of the good times they were having. Overall, it was very needed. We had a blast and came home overjoyed and re-energized to see our girlies.
This week we face a challenge possibly even more mind-stretching than a labyrinth: flying to Denver with TWO BABIES. If you have any tips, I’d love to hear them. Right now my plan is to strap them to us in carriers, and possibly to bake and hand out cookies (and possibly earplugs) to everyone unfortunate enough to sit near us. I know if I were on a plane and saw two people lugging two babies come aboard, I’d seriously be praying “Oh PLEASE let them sit far far away.”
Last week, Jon and I took a little vacation that I’ve been jokingly calling our Baby Moon, because it’s likely the last vacation we’ll ever take, just the two of us. We went to Charleston, SC, where we lived for the 3 years of Jon’s residency, to visit friends and favorite places and just relax. It was perfect. Those who know me well know I’m crazy about food, and we basically planned our whole trip around what we’d eat, when, matching up people we wanted to see with places we wanted to eat. We ate SO GOOD. And our spirits were fed as well when reconnecting with people we love.
It’s hard to put a finger on exactly why we love Charleston. In some ways, it’s obvious– great food, great beauty, the beach. But in other ways, I think it’s because it’s where we went and struggled and survived on our own as a married couple for the first time. Jon worked crazy hours. I worked jobs I sometimes hated. We didn’t know anyone. I hated it at first. And then we thrived, and for that, it will always be a special place. Here are some highlights from a fabulous trip*:
Actually visited this old favorite TWICE.There was one day of perfectly warm weather, so we spent it at Folly Beach.12 week twin bump shadowed on the beach.Followed by dinner at Taco Boy. Fish tacos! Too bad I couldn't have a margarita!
Jon really enjoyed his Mexican Street Corn.We checked in on Rainbow Row and strolled around downtown.We checked out Middleton Place plantation. The house is gone, but the gorgeous view it had remains.One day, we'll be able to make the twins take pictures of us. Until then, this will have to do.One of the plantation's goats wanted to be Jon's bff. It was trying to climb out of the pen to get to him.And on our last night in SC, I got to try a restaurant I've been dying to try for over a year. The wait was worth it!
*You can thank Jon that I’m not sharing the tens of photos I took of trees. I’m a little obsessed with gnarled live oaks and giant moss-draped magnolias.
10 bonus points to the person who knows where the title of this post comes from. This is a long story, but I hope it will bless you as much as it has me.
As I mentioned yesterday, my husband somehow left his iPhone in San Jose, Costa Rica, on the last day of our visit there. This last day, I must say, can barely be considered a day. We arose around 3:30 in the morning. Possibly the only thing that got me out of bed that early was that our awesome AirBnB host had promised coffee and breakfast would still be ready, even before the actual crack of dawn, and so I dragged myself out of bed, did my last bit of packing, and enjoyed fresh bananas with granola, and home baked bread, and some of the most delicious coffee in the world. We were in a bit of a rush to eat breakfast, get a taxi, get to a bus stop, and take that bus to the airport in order to arrive by 4:30 am for a very early flight. With steps 1 and 2 completed, we were in the taxi almost to the bus stop when Jon noticed he didn’t have his phone with him. I remind you at this point that it was insanely early in the morning, and we may not have been thinking clearly. He checked his backpack and his pockets, and didn’t find the phone. We figured he had left it by the computer he was using at the casa right before we left, and pondered if we could go back for it, but realized we couldn’t if we wanted to make our flight. We decided we would have to email our hosts when we got back to the States and see if they could send it back to us.
As we rode the bus to the airport, we saw many pilgrims walking along the sides of the road to a city in Costa Rica called Cartago. An estimated 2 million people all over the country were walking, many for days, to reach this city in order to show thanks to God for their blessings, and, for many, to ask for healing. Our friends in San Jose had told us of a man in the papers who had already received the miracle of being healed of his blindness during this year’s pilgrimage. Seeing them walk along the road, carrying only small backpacks, in the wee hours of the morning was a great blessing. I’m not sure I can really explain why, but their devotion and dedication and sacrifice touched my heart, and as we roared past each little group in our great big bus, I said a little prayer that God would bless them for their faith. God certainly blessed me with their faith.
We made it onto our plane and eventually arrived home in Arkansas. Here is where I also pause to mention that it is difficult to secure a ride home from the airport without a phone, especially now that airports, realizing that most everyone has a cell phone, have eliminated pay phones. And, in the event that one does manage to find an actual payphone in actual working order, who still has any phone numbers memorized that he or she could call? Not us! A taxi home was the way we had to go, as we were weary and absolutely could not face the prospect of yet another bus.
We finally arrived home, and Jon emailed our hosts explaining the lost phone situation. We then headed to church, happy to connect with our friends there after a week away. That night, Ryan preached on what is commonly known as the Golden Rule, from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. We discussed how that verse marks a transition, where Jesus turns from speaking about our relationship with God (“ask, seek, knock”), to our relationship with each other, a relationship that should be characterized by us doing what is good and loving to others, even when, and perhaps most especially when, it is no guarantee that this goodness and love will be returned. We do not participate in goodness and love in order to receive it, but because when we participate in goodness and love, we participate in the very character of God, a character perhaps best illustrated in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, in which God is radically UNfair, bestowing love and goodness even when it is least deserved.
The next morning, Jon received an email from our hosts Darrylle and Juan Carlos telling their side of the story of the lost iPhone. I asked for their permission to share this story:
As soon as we received your message we searched the house and found no sign of your iphone. We were so sad for you as we knew that if you’d lost it in the street or in the taxi or bus that there would be only a chance in a million that we could find it. We called the number to see if we could hear it ringing somewhere in the house or if someone would answer. After many rings a woman answered and when Juan Carlos spoke with her she asked if the phone was his. He told her that it was and she said that we could pick it up. She lives high up in the mountains near Turrialba about 2 hours southeast of San Jose.
We jumped in the car and headed toward the area. The road to Cartago was packed with pilgrims walking in the rain and it was amazing to experience their dedication and determination. By the time we got to her area it was dark and raining. After seeking information from people along the road and calling her on numerous occasions, we finally found her standing in front of a small shanty along a little road way off the main highway deep into the countryside. She is a single mother working nights in San Jose and takes this long two hour trip daily. She had found the phone in the back of the taxi about 5 a.m., at first thought of giving it to the driver, but then had second thoughts. She said she knew if she gave it to him he would make no effort to find its owner. Throughout the day she told several people she had found the phone and received several offers to buy it. Of course, she could have used the money, but decided that she would keep it for several days and if the owner didn’t appear that she would then sell it.
When we met her along side the road, she just walked up to the car window and handed us the phone and didn’t ask for anything. Unfortunately, we’d left the house in a hurry so I only had ¢10,000 ($20), so I gave it to her but she seemed happier to have found the owner than to have received the money. It was a blessing to be in the presence of this sweet, happy, honest and caring woman. Juan Carlos and I had spent time together yesterday morning, as part of our daily spiritual practice, discussing how if we keep our minds in synch with thoughts of goodness, if we hold the intention to bestow rather than to receive, if we focus on our true Self rather than our illusionary ego, that miracles will appear. As we reached the main road to return to San Jose we simultaneously expressed our realization that we had just experienced a miracle and our minds filled with light and joy. Everybody gained, there was no loss and each and every one of us received a blessing of love. Thank you so much for providing the opportunity to experience God in our lives. It was amazing.
Amazing indeed. Jon and I both choked up as we read the email and realized what a miracle this was. Sure, it’s just a returned iPhone. Why would God care about such a thing when there are literally blind people walking to Cartago in need of sight? Because this story is not about the iPhone, but about the goodness at the heart of people everywhere. I personally believe this goodness is the image of God. It’s the goodness that inspires someone to get up insanely early to send a traveler off with a good breakfast. It’s the goodness that inspires people to walk for days and days in order to say thanks and perhaps beg for a miracle. It’s the goodness that inspires people to drive for 4 hours for someone else’s phone. And it’s the goodness that inspires a woman living in poverty to do someone a great kindness, even when doing the opposite would help her provide for her children. It’s the goodness that lies at the heart of the God of the universe, a goodness that lives inside each one of us, if we choose to honor and nurture the image in which we are created.
I needed a reminder of this goodness. When we arrived in Atlanta, it was a rude welcome home to the States. The customs agent who checked my passport said something very ethoncentric about people who speak other languages. The man in front of me in the security line acted absolutely beastly to everyone he encountered. And my personality is such that I often tend to dwell on those people who don’t nurture their inner goodness, rather than those who do. And yet, here in front of me, here in my life, I have been given a miraculous reminder of the nature of God and the true nature of all God created and declared good. And I am so truly thankful.
I’m back from an amazing week in Costa Rica. Did you miss me?
I want to write all about the trip, and kept a journal while we were there in order to do so, but our camera broke while we were there, and my husband’s iPhone, which became our backup camera, was left in San Jose. Through a strange and amazing series of circumstances which I will surely tell you about later, the phone is on its way back, but I’m not going to write about the bulk of the trip until I have some pictures of beautiful Costa Rica to share as well. I really fell in love with the country and the people we met there.
One thing people in Costa Rica say a lot is “pura vida.” It literally translates to “pure life” but can also be used to sort of mean “full of life.” It’s definitely true of Costa Rica, it was true of our trip, and it’s something I’m trying to make true of my life as well. As the comments on the “No Clothes” post keep rolling in and people affirm the challenge, I’ve been pondering my motivations for the challenge and for my desire to begin to live a simpler life in general. Part of it is that I know that for me, the cycle of wanting and buying and wanting and buying is not actually leading to a happier, more joyful life, but rather a vicious cycle of materialism. And another part of it is, I don’t want the things that give me happiness, like a pretty new dress, to be tainted by the fact that they’re bad for the environment and made by very poor people in very poor working conditions. A life of “pura vida” would be about life and happiness for all, not life and happiness that is dependent on others’ suffering and oppression.
When we were in San Jose, we stayed in an amazing house-turned-bed-and-breakfast that we found through AirBnB. Our host, when we asked what brought him to Costa Rica, told us about the day he was liberated from a life of comfort and material things the day a wildfire destroyed his nice house and everything he owned in Southern California. And that’s the way he describes that experience: liberating. Now he lives in a lovely condo in San Jose and shares the gifts of hospitality and good conversation with everyone blessed to stay with him. And I do mean blessed– hospitality, shared meals, and good conversation are practically the sacraments of my faith.
Over the course of the week, I just kept ruminating on what it would be like to feel liberated from materialism. I don’t mean liberated from actually having things, or appreciating beauty, or even from buying things, but I do mean liberated from the never-ending desire of my current shopping habits. For example– I like to browse lots of style blogs, largely for inspiration on how to wear things I already have, or things to DIY for myself or my home– they inspire my creativity, and that’s always a good thing. However, they also often inspire my desire to shop and spend. For example, while perusing my backlog accumulated in Google Reader during a week without my computer, I saw, and immediately wanted this dress from Ruche: Why? Because it’s a very good knockoff of a Marc Jacobs dress I’ve been coveting ever since Michelle Obama wore it (source): The Marc Jacobs version was $685. The Ruche version, which is sold out, was $43. Why? Well, the knockoff is 100% polyester (read: made from petroleum, not very breathable) and “imported” (read: probably not manufactured under the best of conditions). I could (were it not sold out, and had I not taken a no shopping for clothes vow) buy that $43 dress and simply enjoy its beauty and the feeling that I had scored a great look that I had long admired at an insane price. But I’d be bothered by the fact that it’s a blatant ripoff of something someone else created, and I’d be more bothered by the fact that it was made of oil and most likely sewn under not great working conditions. And the sad fact is, the person I am right now, that person can easily say to herself, “BUT IT’S CUUUUTE. AND SO CHEAP!” I don’t want to be that person. That person who says she cares about living “la pura vida” and advocates for the environment and social justice, but is willing to throw all that away for a cute dress. Maybe one day I’ll actually live up to my own values, but it’s hard. Anyone else out there on the same sort of journey?
In case you doubt my Harry Potter love, this was my Halloween costume a few years ago.
Did you miss me? The blog has been rather neglected for a while because I went on vacation with my family to Walt Disney World. While we were there, Jon and I took a day to visit The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Islands of Adventure, something we’ve looked forward to since the day we heard there would BE a Harry Potter theme park. I figured y’all might like a review of The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.
To preface, I should say that I’m something of a Disney World loyalist. This trip marked my 14th visit to Walt Disney World, and if you figure that each vacation was 5 days in the parks, I have spent 70 days in Walt Disney World. I know Disney like the back of my hand. Map? I don’t need no stinkin’ map! I’ve also visited Universal Islands of Adventure once before this trip. And I have to say: I wish Disney had done the Harry Potter park.
Why? Well, while Universal undoubtedly has bigger, better rollercoasters and thrill rides, and more of them, Disney does better at creating a cohesive world. From the minute you pay your parking fee and the attendant says “Have a Magical day!” Disney is themeing every tiny detail of your experience. Everywhere you look is a piece of a greater theme. And you never see chipping paint or dusty animatronics because Disney has an entire fleet of maintenance people painting and touching up each and every single day. Contrast that to the sad, faded, chipping paint in the Dr. Seuss portion of Islands of Adventure: there was scum in the water of the fish on the Cat in the Hat ride, which also featured a very dusty cast of robots! Disney is also exceedingly efficient. There are people making sure the right number of people get on the correct seats of the rides so the lines move smoothly. Meanwhile, on the Dragon Challenge ride at TWWOHP, it was a free-for-all of seat choosing, which led to clogged lines and confusion.
Also: at Disney, you can take your bag or stuffed animal or magic wand on every single ride with you. Even the ones that go upside down like the Rock’n’rollercoaster. At Universal, before you ride anything, you have to stash your stuff in a nearby locker, which, though they are free, ads a whole new layer of pushing, shoving, and waiting in line to the experience. In addition, Disney’s FastPass system is more democratic. At Disney, you simply show up at an attraction, swipe your ticket, and get a FastPass which tells you to return at a certain time to enter a special line that is invariably much shorter than the main line. At Universal, you just pay twice as much for your ticket and you can stand in the faster lines all the time, all day, unlimited. I have to say, though, those who go through the Single Rider or FastPass (whatever Universal calls it) lines at TWWOHP are missing out, as some of the best parts of the park are actually along the main line. Perhaps my biggest tip: stand in the main line for Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, which is the ride inside of Hogwarts, even if it’s an hour long, because otherwise you’ll be missing out on some majorly cool stuff.
Hogwarts was captured perfectly.
This guy looked just like a Weasley, and he was actually British. Instead of sticking him in Three Broomsticks, TWWOHP should have him working in Zonko's, doing magic tricks and actually "being" a Weasley.
Finally, Disney doesn’t call their employees “cast members” for nothing. Every single person who works there knows he or she is literally playing the role of a citizen of a magical world, and they act the part. From the deeply creepy folks who are found to work the Haunted Mansion to the 1920s “movie stars” roaming the streets of Hollywood Studios (aka MGM Studios), every single person you encounter is in character. At TWWOHP, there are a few folks playing actual characters, be they Ollivander, or the conductor of the Hogwarts Express, but I wished the employee had had an answer when I asked him if the Sorting Hat had determined which house colors each TWWOHP employee was wearing, instead of looking at me like he had no idea what “sorting” was. I also wished there had been some actual witches and wizards roaming around the Three Broomsticks or bumping into us on the streets of Diagon Alley/Hogsmeade. (On that note: TWWOHP takes things from Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade and smooshes them together into one place they call Hogsmeade, which is not entirely accurate to the books.)
That said: TWWOHP is extremely well done, despite my view that Disney could have done it better. As we approached the gate of Hogsmeade, Jon and I were jumpy with excitement like two kids on Christmas morning. And everything just looks right. I knew it would, I really did. I mean, they got the movies right, without disappointing the passionate fans of the book series, so they had already proven they could do it. They did not let us down.
Hogsmeade/Diagon Alley looks like it should and features all the shops you’d expect, including Honeydukes, Zonko’s, Three Broomsticks, The Leaky Cauldron, and Ollivander’s. There will be a line outside of Ollivander’s. It’s worth standing in. What’s it for? It’s to get inside the shop and see a little show where one lucky kid is chosen to have his/her wand selected by Ollivander himself. Sorry folks, you probably won’t be that lucky kid. BUT, it’s extremely well done, and the kid who was chosen when we were in the shop was so excited that it was adorable to watch. Everyone else has to select his or her own wand in a very tiny and crowded store. Still: I GOT A WAND! Hermione’s wand, to be exact, because she and I are practically the same person.
Also inside Ollivander’s/The Owl Post, you can purchase postcards and Owl Post stamps, and have them postmarked and “delivered by Owl Post” (which apparently operates in cooperation with the US Postal Service) to your friends, which is pretty fun.
The first attraction when you walk in TWWOHP is the Dragon Challenge. This ride was actually at Universal before TWWOHP and was called Dueling Dragons, as it’s a two-track coaster which has both tracks running at the same time, so it sometimes looks like you might actually touch the other car on the other track. They worked it into TWWOHP themeing by making it the Dragon Challenge from the Triwizard Tournament. Aside from having to stow my stuff in a locker and some confusion that could have been remedied by having employees ask how many were in each party and sorting them into rows, it’s an awesome, intense coaster and a lot of fun. It does go upside down and through corkscrews. I loved it.
Goblet of Fire
The main attraction, located inside of Hogwarts, is Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey. It’s part virtual reality, part animatronics simulation, and if you are prone to getting dizzy, take your Dramamine– you’ll need it. It’s a really well-done ride, and, as I mentioned before, make sure to go through the whole line or you’ll miss out on some real favorites from the world of Hogwarts. (We first rode the ride by going through as single riders, and later rode together, going through the main line. We were astonished at all we’d have missed out on if we hadn’t gone through the main line.)
There’s also a sort of kiddie coaster called The Flight of the Hippogriff, and you get to see Hagrid’s House in line for that attraction.
Another major aspect of Hogsmeade is obviously the Butterbeer. I was worried it would be disgusting, actually buttery or sickeningly sweet in the hot hot heat of Orlando. It was better than I imagined. It was delicious– I had the frozen version on a cast member’s recommendation. They have carts selling it in the streets, but you’d be better off to go have lunch at Three Broomsticks and sip your Butterbeer with your meal inside the air conditioning. Three Broomsticks also had great food, including a Great Feast which feeds 4 for $50 and is a great deal in theme park food, along with other British classics like shepherd’s pie, cornish pasties, and roast chicken served with rosemary roasted potatoes. They also have actual Hogs Head beer, in case the teeming masses in the park make you yearn for something with more of a kick than a sugar high from a Butterbeer.
Inside the Three Broomsticks
Ultimately, I had an awesome day at TWWOHP. I got to enter a world I know and love through books and films, and it lived up to my high expectations as a fan and a reader. Still, as a Disney fan, I have even higher expectations of my theme park experience, and I know it could have been better. Despite that, I know any of my Harry Potter fan friends will absolutely love the park, and I can’t wait for some of them to go so we can geek out about it together.
Well, Internet, I’m back. Vacation was lovely. Being married to a medical resident can be stressful and grueling, even on the non-resident, and just having some time to hang out and reconnect with my husband was just what I needed. Did you miss me?
We started our vacation in coastal Maryland. It was too cold to enjoy the beach, and the place was a ghost town. The high point was the best Italian meal I’ve ever had. We randomly stumbled upon this place that seemed to reside in a renovated Pizza Hut, a place where they happen to make all their own pasta. Jon ordered a dish with thin layers of pasta, ground veal, mozzarella cheese, and a very delicate tomato sauce. It. was. divine. Seriously. The single best Italian dish I’ve ever had. I had a pasta dish with Italian sausage, and it was almost as good as Jon’s dish. Also enjoyable was the flamboyant owner/manager who was singing solos, exuberantly greeting guests, and giving presentations of the specials with such flair that I wanted to try all of them. Otherwise, being without cable in our normal life, we were actually more than entertained just to be able to watch cable television. ESPN for Jon, marathons of “What Not to Wear” and “NCIS” for me. Here are some highlights from the Maryland portion of the trip: Continue reading “vacation, all i ever wanted”
Yeah, I'm such a tourist that I even snap photos in the subway. So sue me.
I’m going to blog in more detail about my big New York weekend at some point when I have the time to sit down and detail such a whirlwind properly. But for now I just wanted to share one perfect moment.
The subway is hot, smelly, and crowded. It’s not a happy place, much as I love public transit (and I really love public transit!) And yet, Saturday night, after a perfect perfect dinner at Supper, and a stroll through Times Square that ended in a downpour, we found ourselves in a subway stop and despite the heat, despite wet feet, found ourselves lifted while simultaneously underground.
At first he seemed like any other busker, a man with a guitar in a subway. He stood out a bit, I guess, because usually you see skinny white guys with acoustic guitars, not old black men. But somehow, maybe everyone had, like us, had a little bit of wine with dinner and was feeling the love, maybe they were all just tourists, or maybe, in the rain, we were all just looking for some sunshine on a cloudy day, slowly everyone started singing along. Within a couple of minutes, he had everyone at the stop singing along to “My Girl.” And not just sorta singing either. Real, spirited, practically church singing. I guess you say, what can make me feel this way? My girl, my girl, my girl….
Toward the end of the song, trains pulled up on either side of the platform and the singalong dispersed with raucous applause as we all got onto our trains with smiles on our faces, many humming to ourselves.
We may not have had time to toss a dollar in his guitar case, but I wish I had. If you ask me, that man should be on the city payroll for performing a public service– making wet, tired, foot-pained, cranky commuters stop for a few minutes and just sing along. It’s almost like the month of May.
In mere hours I’ll be hopping a plane and headed to New York City. I’ve never been, though I have been advised in How Not To Be An Annoying Tourist, and am hoping that I can navigate NYC at least close to as well as I managed in London, a city I absolutely loved. For this Southern girl, New York is mostly a construct of film and literature, so I’m trying to keep my mind open so I can experience a new place without expectations. We’re traveling with our two best friends, and a major purpose of the trip is to do my husband’s 30th birthday up right. We don’t really have a concrete plan, but I’m sure we’ll have a great time. Have a great weekend, folks!
Why? Because it’s a very good knockoff of a Marc Jacobs dress I’ve been coveting ever since Michelle Obama wore it 
The Marc Jacobs version was $685. The Ruche version, which is sold out, was $43. Why? Well, the knockoff is 100% polyester (read: made from petroleum, not very breathable) and “imported” (read: probably not manufactured under the best of conditions). I could (were it not sold out, and had I not taken a no shopping for clothes vow) buy that $43 dress and simply enjoy its beauty and the feeling that I had scored a great look that I had long admired at an insane price. But I’d be bothered by the fact that it’s a blatant ripoff of something someone else created, and I’d be more bothered by the fact that it was made of oil and most likely sewn under not great working conditions. And the sad fact is, the person I am right now, that person can easily say to herself, “BUT IT’S CUUUUTE. AND SO CHEAP!” I don’t want to be that person. That person who says she cares about living “la pura vida” and advocates for the environment and social justice, but is willing to throw all that away for a cute dress. Maybe one day I’ll actually live up to my own values, but it’s hard. Anyone else out there on the same sort of journey?
erniebufflo's south & west kitchen 
