Abracadabra
Summer
n.
1. The usually warmest season of the year, occurring between spring and autumn and constituting June, July, and August in the Northern Hemisphere, or, as calculated astronomically, extending from the summer solstice to the autumnal equinox.
2. A period of fruition, fulfillment, happiness, or beauty.
3. A year: a girl of 13 summers
'A period of fruition, fulfillment, happiness, or beauty.' The winter holidays may be my favorite time of year, but Summer is truly my favorite season. Nothing compares to lying on the warm grass and staring up at a cloudless blue sky with the sharp contrast of tiny green leaves against it. Reading books for fun, eating outdoors, the 4th of July, going to the beach, baseball games... summers have always been a very special and magical time to me.
Most of my favorite memories growing up took place during the warm months-
Softball games followed by trips to Dairy Queen
Camping with my family
Labor Day barbecues
Gardening with my mom
Playing on the swing-set with my sister
School supply shopping (seriously was my favorite day for about 8 years... and yes, it still excites me to buy text books, binders and high-lighters)
Hiking through South Woods
Long bike rides with my dad
Boating on the lake with my friends
This summer has been no exception- every day has been filled with excitement and surprises. From getting lost in China Town for hours to sleeping the day away in Central Park it has been an adventure. I have worked hard and learned a lot. I even got my first full-time job offer. The good news is, from here it just gets better...
July 31 - Aug. 1 Minneapolis for business
Aug. 3 Yankee Game
Aug. 5 - Aug. 8 My sister comes to visit
Aug. 15 - Aug. 16 Chicago for business
Aug. 17 Last day of work
Aug. 18 - Aug. 20 Madison
Aug. 21 - Sep. 5 Green Lake, Door County, Chicago & Madison in no particular order
Here's to enjoying every second of it.
From Baby Booties to Power Heels
The girl that came to New York at the beginning of the summer was not a perfectionist and was not competitive. She wanted to be able to get a job after college, but figured she would be married and home with her children by age 30. She wanted to focus on baking after school snacks and being active in the community. The thought of being a career focused women did not appeal to her in the slightest.
A lot of people have problems with women that do not aspire to be more than a wife and a mother. I remain steadfast in my beliefs that running a household and keeping your family together, especially in the 21st century, is one of the hardest jobs that requires a huge amount of dedication and a huge skill set. It is one thing to have a child and to get married. It is another to raise a child and be a wife (or a husband for that matter.)
After feeling the exhilaration and excitement of working in a fast-paced corporate office where meeting impossible deadlines while still being innovative and increasing profitability rules, I have learned a lot about myself. I am extremely competitive and when my work has outcomes other than an A, B or C I am very much a perfectionist. I am driven by stress and deadlines and out performing others. I can stare at an excel worksheet for hours after my clock says 5:00pm- and for the most part do it happily. I have found something I thought did not exist in me... the motivation to push myself.
Now, I find myself struggling with the conflicting interests that so many women are forced to deal with. The
'Can I have it all?' question.
ALERT
The Ali and Katie posse has now turned into the Ali, Katie and Patrick posse.
(a.k.a The Katie Club).
web url: cheetoloversanonymous.com
Another Life Changed
This is an e-mail that my mom forwarded to me that made her think of AIESEC. Tai was a foreign exchange student that my dad's Rotary Club sponsored this past year at Green Lake High School. She just returned to Brazil last week... another life changed.
Hey guys!!!
Talking with all from Brazil for the first time!
Well, I got here yesterday morning and my flight was ok. My friends and family were in the airport waiting fom me with big welcome posts. We had lunch in my house and I spent the entire day answering phone calls, telling everyone about my year and unpacking my luggage.
This week I will spend visiting my relatives and organizing my school papers.
Everything here looks the same and was a little bit difficult for me. I have heard about reverse cultural shock and I believe that this happened to me. My house seemed small and the streets really dirty. My friends are wonderful but they are the same, they are doing the same, they think the same. Nothing wrong with that, but before I went to bed I had a longggggg talk with my brother and he explaned to me that I am the one that had lived a different life. I am different now and I changed...people here had their lives just moved another year. He went through the same when he came back from his exchenge. I believe that it´s great to have him now because we can talk anytime in case I feel sad.
I also realized how luck I am for all the experiences and opportunities I had this last year. Just to be able to think, to see and to live in another culture made my mind opened and now it seems that just to spend time in Brazil is not enough.
Anyway, I am great, my family is more than happy to have me around again (my mom are kissing me from 5 to 5 seconds) and it´s good to be back home after a year.
I wish I were in the meeting tomorrow but my heart will be there with you all.
Keep in touch!
Love to all
Kisses
P.S. And I have already started my diet!!!! hehehe
Defense Mechanisms
Lately, I have been intrigued by defense mechanisms. It is amazing to me how differently people can react when faced with the same stimulus and what emotions become invoked.
I am a strong believer in evolution, so I think it is a natural human response to try to protect ourselves- whether it be physically or emotionally (survival of the fittest). However, this being said- do defense mechanisms really protect us in the long run? When confronted with something that is unpleasant or scary, it is not uncommon to humorize your feelings, deny them, rationalize them, project them towards something else... The list goes on and on of natural reactions. However, in the end it is always (or almost always) better to face the stimulus that is causing the anxiety.
If it is always better to face the situation at hand, why are defense mechanisms wired into people's personalities? Or rather, are defense mechanisms a learned behavior? And if they are a learned behavior, why do humans continue to 'learn' them?
What makes us so uncomfortable that we have a hard time sharing our true emotions to a difficult situation, even with those that are closest to us?
The Weight of the World
There are nights when talking, playing boggle and having a few drinks with your best friend will cure everything. And when life throws you something unexpected that is a little harder to fix, a shoulder to lean on will always make things seem easier.
In the Back of my Mind...
"May you put your talent into your work and your genius into your life."-Oscar Wilde
Where the Party At?
If I have one thing going for me, it is that I never cease to amuse myself and those around me. I am sure there are many examples in this blog, but last night was slightly ridiculous, especially considering I was alone for most of it.
Yesterday I lunched with my friend Liz from the office. She interns in the marketing department. We are chatting away in the park about our plans for the weekend and we both go silent for a second. In unison we say, "Happy Hour today?" We round up a third intern, Mike to join us and he brings along a co-worker from his floor who calls his buddy from AIG to meet us at The John Street Bar.
At 5:00 we walk over, pay our $10 for the Thursday Special, all you can drink Bud Light. Liz and Mike are from New Jersey and have trains they have to catch, so although we are engaging in conversation, a decent amount of time is spent chugging, getting our moneys worth.
We leave the bar and suddenly the 4-5-6 train is not where I left it this morning. I stumble around the street for a while and finally find the entrance to the subway. I get off at Union Square and decide that instead of transferring to the L train I will continue to stumble home in my heels.
I climb up the millions of steps to my apartment and throw myself down on my futon-bed. I tear off my work clothes and slip into a little summer dress. I grab my purse and begin to leave the apartment. I realize I have no shoes. Once I have one shoe attached to each foot I walk down Avenue A in search of food.
Starving, I weave across the streets in search of that perfect plate of food. I end up on the corner of 9th and 1st Ave. I see one sushi restaurant across the road and one immediately to the right of me. What do I do, what do I do?!
I do the economical thing and go to the one that looks cheaper. More bang for my buck.
I sit at the sushi bar, drink 4 glasses of water before ordering.
"I'll have one miso soup, a dragon roll and a spicy tuna roll please."
I guzzle down my soup in one gulp.
I eat both of the rolls as if they were each just one piece of sushi.
I pay quickly and leave.
I run home because all the water I drank wants to leave my system.
I call Ali and share my life problems.
I call Rickesh, pretending not to be drunk.
I go to the gym for lack of anything else to do and go from machine to machine before realizing that I look like a fool.
I leave and call Ali again, saying God knows what. (Thankfully she remembers and decided to share it with all of you in her blog. Remember that she lies though.)
I walk home and lie on my futon-bed and call a handful more people before passing out.
I make my own adventures.
R.I.P.
For the past three days, count them- one, two, three, I have been batteling a war. I have been doing it silently and patiently, even playing fair. However, it is time to not look back and go in for the kill.
The background of this story...
I have been fearful of using my kitchen. To put it mildly, it is dirty. So, I have not used the stove for the past six weeks. I have been sticking to frozen food that I can heat up in the microwave or food that does not need to be prepared at all. However, this past weekend I decided to be brave and use the filthy little apparatus that slightly resembles a kitchen appliance. Since my roommate owns no pots, I bring my noodles to a tender consistency in a tea kettle. Proud of myself, I strain them in what I think might actually be a strainer, but maybe not.
I reach for the damn jar of marinara sauce, ready to complete my first cooking experience in the city. My mouth is salivating. I twist the top... doesn't move. I roll up my sleeves, scrunch up my forehead and give 'er hell. Not an inch. I whack that baby on the counter like there is no tomorrow. Stubborn little fucker.
And thus I have been continuing the above process for three days.
I am taking a knife to the bitch in minutes.
R.I.P. Mason Jar of Marinara.
...Aaaaaand Freedom Ring
Tomorrow I am embarking on a Fourth of July adventure.
Alison Anne and Katherine Anne are packing their bags and heading to an infamous area, Coney Island.
We have only two goals.
Get burned like lobsters on the beach and to watch
The International Hot Dog Eating Contest.
http://www.nathansfamous.com/nathans/contest/How great is that? (It would obviously only be greater if Jenna was able to join us.)
