Reality Check

This is an edited version of a post that originally appeared on my personal blog:


This post is not a reality check for me, instead it's for all the people who have an incredibly warped idea of my life in Paris. I'm starting to get really sick of people commenting on me living the "nice" life or "luxurious" life in Paris, and even the people who say, "must be nice to up and move to Paris."

For starters, my life is in no way "luxurious" and even "nice" is a bit of a stretch. It's comfortable, sure, just as it is in NYC. At least, as comfortable as it can be for a person who spent the first half worried about a place to stay and will spend the second half worried about money. Yes, I indulged in some things I've always wanted to do, like a bread-making class, but I often eat nothing but a demi baguette and pre-packaged pasta from Monoprix all day because it only costs me 3 euros. I'm not dining at fancy restaurants. I avoid museums and attractions I have to pay for. I skip more meals than I'm comfortable admitting to my best friends. Trust me, life is not luxurious.

Now, as to the question of how I got to Paris in the first place. I freelanced a lot last year, which allowed me to save a good chunk of money. Almost half of that money was supposed to go to paying taxes, which I will now have to file an extension for and pay interest on because that money is long gone. I had no choice but to do that because I'm jobless and not eligible for unemployment.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't a pity parade. I've chosen this. It was my decision to quit my job, a job that was turning me into somebody I didn't recognize. I decided I would rather be broke in Paris and know that I gave it a try than be miserable in NYC, wondering "what if?" And of course there's the fact that I'm single and childless, so I don't have to consider anybody else when I make decisions like this.

I'm just tired of the looks and comments and general misunderstanding of what my life is like here. Every time somebody says something like, "can I have your life?" I want to answer "of course you can! Save up some money, quit your job, book a ticket." It's as easy as that. I didn't have a place lined up before getting here. My only "friend" was a person I had met exactly three times. I had no plan whatsoever and spent the first two months incapable of thinking past the end of the next week (a habit which will continue, I'm sure). I've made it this far by luck and not caring.

And since I'm being completely open at this point, I'll admit that I have no idea what's next, so there's also that. I've blown through my savings and am totally winging it. I have just enough money to pay rent and credit card bills through the end of my trip and that is it. I now have to think of creative ways to eat and live for the next two months. I also have to figure out how to pay rent and credit card bills once I'm back in New York because I don't have money for that either. Hell, I don't even have money to get back to New York but I'm lucky enough to have a friend who can lend me some until I figure it out. (Now, that's a luxury.)

That's your reality check for the day, folks. Basically save some money and have faith that it'll all work out beyond that. There's your key to living my life. If you choose to follow in my footsteps, let me know and HAVE FUN!

Sweet Life in Paris

I've been in Paris for almost a month now and have yet to bake anything, which has made me feel like it isn't really "home" yet. Today that changed. I thought to myself "what would I make if Kim [Conte] came to visit?" and I knew it had to be something from David Lebovitz's The Sweet Life in Paris.

I refuse to admit how long it took me to translate my ingredients to French. 

Sadly, I'm staying in an apartment that has a working oven (YAY!) but no mixing bowls, measuring cups, scales, whisk, or adequate baking dishes (BOO!). So: Challenge.

Kim once said that she loves how I don't fret or panic in situations like these and I felt so touched, I never forgot it. Today, remembering that made me feel like Kim was in the kitchen with me, encouraging me to make it through this ridiculous challenge.

This is when I started talking to my egg whites. In bad French. "Mes oeufs! Vas-y!"

When it took me 30 minutes to decide that the amount of sugar I measured looked close to 1/3 cup and when I thought my arm would fall off trying to beat my eggs into submission with a fork, I thought maybe this was the worst idea ever. But I kept thinking of Kim and I stuck to it.

And the results? Delicious.

The Sweet Life in Paris: chocolate cake and salted butter caramel sauce.

I have no idea what David's (I decided we were on a first name basis somewhere between frothy eggs whites and soft peaks) gâteau Thérèse, chocolate cake, and caramel au beurre salé, salted butter caramel sauce, are supposed to look and taste like, but my dessert was delightfully delectable.

Originally posted at Friends in Knead

The Flux Capacitor

Strange as it sounds, I've been thinking about the movie "Back to the Future" lately. It was referenced in an episode of television I watched, and since then it's been on my mind. Particularly the magical time machine and its Flux Capacitor that sends Marty McFly back to the 1950s.

I think I was attracted to the phrase "flux capacitor" because my life has been in a considerable amount of flux lately. I've been traveling for almost six months, and writing, and dealing with unexpected events, and living life in a relatively unplanned way. It's been wonderful and challenging, and absolutely full of joy and uncertainty. A "flux capacitor" sounds like the sort of thing that could take such experiences and emotions and thoughts that often feel out of control and make them make sense, give them purpose.

Moments ago, I went to Merriam-Webster online dictionary and asked it to define "flux." I already know what the word means--change, transition, flow from one state to another--but as a writer, sometimes I like to see the technical definition. I usually learn something.

This is what it told me:

"Flux (n.): A flow of fluid from the body, as in (a) diarrhea, (b) dysentery."

That was it. No other definitions. Just a long, blank white page after that.

I cracked up laughing. What? Was it possible that I had been using this term wrong for years? Had I just created a blog post centered around the metaphor of my life as diarrhea?

Well, no, it turned out to be a glitch on the website. When I hit reload, it filled in the rest of the definitions, including the one I was looking for, which read simply: "change, fluctuation."

My sense of amusement continues. I've always considered it a strength that I can laugh at myself. And I realize that saying or doing something stupid from time to time doesn't make me any less smart. It was a nice reality check, too, because when I said my life was in flux, I definitely did not mean my life is watery crap. Not by a long shot.

So now I'm thinking that maybe the Flux Capacitor isn't all it's cracked up to be. Marty McFly goes to the past to try to change things, but when he gets there, he realizes it was a bit of a mistake and all he wants is to get back to the future.

I am luckier than Marty, I suppose, because I've never wanted to change the past. I'm happy with where I am and how I got here. But I do think there's value in looking back. All of this flux is leading somewhere...and hopefully that somewhere is a brighter, more coherent future.

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Wanderlust*

This piece was originally posted on April 26, 2010. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective:

I’ve been craving new travel adventures lately. It hasn’t even been that long since I went anywhere. I take small vacations when I can and I travel a bit for work these days, making visits to schools, libraries, bookstores, and writing conferences around the country. Whether it’s for business or pleasure, I look forward to packing my bags and hitting the road. There’s always fun to be had away from home.

I took a cross country road trip with a friend a few years ago, from New York to California in six days. It was fantastic, and not just because I love driving and riding in cars. We experienced so much! This week I busted out my “I Survived Highway 50” t-shirt, which boasts about my successful traversing of the so-called “loneliest road in America.” I wore it and thought about how it felt to gun the engine on a literally empty highway, watching miles of open desert churn past the windows. Awesome.

I find there’s something special about simply moving forward, no matter the destination, even if there isn’t one. Time stands still when the road is wide open in front of you, or as the plane hurtles forward at its cruising altitude, or the train chugs along at just the right rhythm. And when you get where you’re going, wherever that may be, there’s something magical about wandering the streets of a strange city, seeing the sights and tasting local treats along the way.

I once read a book about a guy who wanders all the time, from place to place, seeing what he sees, working when he has to and then living off the cash for as long as he can. In a fantasy life, that sounds amazing. In reality, I have no wish to live like that; the half of me that’s not suffused with wanderlust is quite a content little homebody. How to reconcile the two? Give me a good long journey every now and then, and I’ll be a happy camper.

When Determination Meets Serendipity*

The following was originally posted on April 28, 2011. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective:

CHICKS ROCK! is happy to welcome Karen as a first-time guest blogger this week.

Originally from the UK, Karen lives and works in NYC. She makes her living as an accountant but is also a collage artist.


What do you call those times when the entire universe seems to falls into place? When you feel there’s nowhere else you'd rather be and no one else you'd rather be with? Right here, right now. Atlas didn't shrug, he snuggled.

So here I am: intrepid solo traveller, nursing a broken ankle, drinking red wine in a seedy pub in Berlin in the early hours of a cold October morning. Since that horrible day three months earlier, when I hit the wet floor of the locker room at my gym and just knew it wasn't good, I’ve been working towards this moment.

My family and friends told me I'd be crazy to travel – my leg was encased in a big black boot, reliant on Percocet to get through the night – but my trip was booked and paid for. I resolved that nothing would stop me from going!

I surrendered a little of my independence by booking a wheelchair. At JFK airport I was cossetted and cared for. I swept through security like visiting royalty.

I was traveling to see a band, the Tiger Lillies, three middle-aged British guys I consider good friends. They’re spending a month in Berlin performing their "Freakshow" which has several circus acts. So there we were on my first evening in this amazing city: me, the band, three friends from London, and members of the cast. There are two little people (she's a dancer, he performs with Ringling Bros.), a snake lady who can contort herself into positions I never dreamed of, and a man who juggles hats and knives.

Surrounded by these amazing creative people, what did I feel? Freedom. Peace. Happiness! I don't care about my ankle or "Das Boot," as it came to be known. I wish I could bottle this moment and take it home. I know it's impossible to feel this way all the time, but it's good to remember that I helped to create that moment myself. Determination and a little serendipity came together at that moment, and it’s up to me to make it happen again.

Mall Taman Anggrek: My Indonesian Comfort Zone*

This piece was originally posted on October 1, 2008. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective, during which we will post a combination of new content and posts from the past. Enjoy!

Mall culture takes on a life of its own in most Southeast Asian cities, like Jakarta. You cannot get away from them; they are everywhere. Mall Taman Anggrek is currently the largest mall in Jakarta. The obnoxiously large building houses more than 500 stores on seven floors. Taman Anggrek is translated to mean “orchid garden” in English, which evokes images of serene beauty and calm. I never understood the name, until I found out there used to be a real orchid garden in that location.

Early in the morning during the week is the best time to enjoy the mall’s interiors. It is a marvel of space, light and marble...a truly impressive sight. Even though I dislike malls in general, I cannot deny that the architects who designed Mall Taman Anggrek are true artists.

It is also a less stressful place to shop, especially for women. We can walk around the mall without being harassed, unlike the congested street fairs that dominate many city neighborhoods. I couldn’t avoid Taman Anggrek, or any mall for that matter. It is where I had to go to find Western sizes of shoes and clothes, and anything else that is familiar from home. I am almost ashamed to admit that these malls are also havens for foreigners like me. I don’t have to worry about getting ripped off like I do in other local establishments. Taman Anggrek is my Third World reminder of home…sort of.

Are malls like Taman Anggrek the best that Jakarta has to offer? Well, yes…and no. The few city museums and monuments I visited are intellectually superior to anything that can be found at the mall. Still, the air conditioning, window shopping, and gourmet fast food trumps culture and history for many locals and foreigners in Indonesia’s polluted and over-populated capital city. When expats like me need to escape from the heat, noise and smells of the Jakarta streets, retreating to the mall is the easiest thing to do.

What is your idea of comfort when you're far away from home?

My Busy Summer

Summer is almost over, and there is still so much for me to do before the season ends. Moving tops my list of things to do by the end of next month, and as everyone knows, it is never fun to move. I do not look forward to deciding what I must keep and what has to go; I can do it, but as a natural procrastinator, I do not relish the task.

Making time for more fun is very important to me, and that includes travel. I do not have the time to go off to exotic locales, but I am hoping to take a few day and weekend trips to places I have never been to. One of my dream locales to visit is Quebec; I feel embarrassed that I have not been there, especially since I have always wanted to and it really isn't that far away. I hope to remedy this situation by Labor Day weekend, if possible.

I also want to reconnect with friends I have not seen in quite some time. I am usually on the phone or emailing them instead of being in their physical presence. I am guilty of breaking plans because work or other distractions that get in the way, and so I want to be sure to break this habit for the summer and beyond. I really am a social person, so I must resist letting technology and the demands of work get the better of me.

For the first time since I started blogging with CHICKS ROCK! in 2008, I am taking the month of August off to accomplish these and many more tasks. I will be back in September, but in the meantime please check out some of my previous blog posts from months and years past. This is part of the ongoing CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective, which my fellow CHICKS and I are participating in.

Enjoy the rest of the summer!

The Art of Observation*

The following was originally posted on April 30, 2012. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective:

I've been observing and enjoying a lot of public art lately. It might be because I'm traveling and so my eyes are open to noticing the world around me in different ways than usual. But even when I was last home, I found myself increasingly viewing the world in terms of visual art. I've been trying to take more pictures, and I always have my camera (or cell phone camera, at least) on hand and it makes all the difference when I am consciously aware of each new corner of the world as a potential photographic subject.

In every city I visit, I'm finding there is a notable presence of public art: dynamic sculptures, wall murals (some commissioned, some graffiti) activist-inspired installations, and much much more.

These discoveries have led me to think a lot about the presence and role of art in the world in general, and in public spaces in particular. I think about how essential it is, how delightfully overwhelming it can be to be startled, moved, inspired, made to giggle or to react in some visceral way to a piece of art encountered unexpectedly.

There's great power in art, which of course I knew already, being an artist myself, but the sort of art I pursue is more deliberate somehow. Readers don't tend to "accidentally" read a novel, not in the way you can so easily stumble into a piece of visual art, or overhear a song. I suppose you could compare the act of turning a corner and meeting a delicious sculpture to the act of browsing a bookstore and discovering a gem of a read you might never have gone in search of but just finds its way into your hand at the opportune moment.

At any rate, these recent glimpses of art continue to surprise and delight me. I continue to take their pictures and fold them into the photographic record of the life I am currently living. Which, I suppose is another layer of art unto itself.

Do you tend to notice art in the world around you?

Space Travel Expands

When I heard the other day that a private company has made it possible for more individuals to take part in commercial space travel, I was both surprised and not surprised. Like everyone else, I have heard and seen news reports over the years discussing the growth of space travel so that many more private citizens with the funds to do so can make their dreams to be in space for themselves a reality.

To date, there have only been a handful of individuals who have travelled to space as private travelers, and they have all gone to and from the International Space Station. If I am ever in the position to go to space myself, it would be great to go there, but I would love to tour our solar system. I know this is will not happen in my lifetime, but I would like to think future generations would have the option to take a private spacecraft to see most (if not all) of our neighboring planets. Actually stepping down on any other planet’s surface seems like something much far off than just touring the solar system.

I can understand the appeal and the apprehension about space travel; the latter because of the great unknown being frightening to think of at times; after all, we cannot breathe without assistance with machines out there, and while an absence of gravity might be nice at times so we can float from room to room in a roomy spacecraft, it can be annoying if you try to drink a glass of water and the liquid does not make it into your mouth. Still, I cannot imagine refusing the chance to go to space because of these reasons. Of course I would like to see space travel expand so more safety precautions can be perfected. I suppose it was the same for those who were getting used to air travel a century ago.

Would you go to space if you had the chance?

Meeting Rosa

In the course of my recent travels, I've found that it is very easy for me to draw inspiration from the world around me. I also find that when you set your mind toward learning about a specific topic (in my case, the civil rights and black power movements) the world continuously offers up tidbits of information in even the most unlikely places.

When I was in Dallas recently, I was delighted to encounter this statue of Rosa Parks, one of the celebrated figures of the civil rights movement. The little plaza where she sits (beside a bus station, appropriately!) is something of a monument to the cause she struggled for, with a quote from the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King emblazoned on the fountain wall behind her.

It's a nice monument, of course, but what surprised me was finding it in Dallas, far from the Montgomery, Alabama, location of Ms. Parks's actual public bus sit-in in 1955. Certainly her story has ascended to a position of national prominence, and I'd be thrilled to find more statues of people like her scattered around the country, but in this case it still caught me off guard. In a good way.

I like being surprised and delighted by the world around me. When I am home, moving through my familiar circles, it is so easy to keep my head down and follow an expected path, rather than opening my eyes to what unexpected things might be lurking around any given corner. Like my new fondness for public art, the inspiration of random encounters is helping me think in new and creative ways, and I find it exciting.

Have you been surprised or inspired lately?

The Art of Observation

I've been observing and enjoying a lot of public art lately. It might be because I'm traveling and so my eyes are open to noticing the world around me in different ways than usual. But even when I was last home, I found myself increasingly viewing the world in terms of visual art. I've been trying to take more pictures, and I always have my camera (or cell phone camera, at least) on hand and it makes all the difference when I am consciously aware of each new corner of the world as a potential photographic subject.

In every city I visit, I'm finding there is a notable presence of public art: dynamic sculptures, wall murals (some commissioned, some graffiti) activist-inspired installations, and much much more.

These discoveries have led me to think a lot about the presence and role of art in the world in general, and in public spaces in particular. I think about how essential it is, how delightfully overwhelming it can be to be startled, moved, inspired, made to giggle or to react in some visceral way to a piece of art encountered unexpectedly.

There's great power in art, which of course I knew already, being an artist myself, but the sort of art I pursue is more deliberate somehow. Readers don't tend to "accidentally" read a novel, not in the way you can so easily stumble into a piece of visual art, or overhear a song. I suppose you could compare the act of turning a corner and meeting a delicious sculpture to the act of browsing a bookstore and discovering a gem of a read you might never have gone in search of but just finds its way into your hand at the opportune moment.

At any rate, these recent glimpses of art continue to surprise and delight me. I continue to take their pictures and fold them into the photographic record of the life I am currently living. Which, I suppose is another layer of art unto itself.

Do you tend to notice art in the world around you?

Writing Poolside

I'm finding myself grateful for technology these days, as I'm traveling around a bit and always looking for places to quietly sit and write. I find that I can write anywhere, as long as there's a chair and a table, or even just piece of ground I can sit on where I'm not in anyone's way. I take my laptop or a pad of paper and go to town. Thanks to the wonders of wireless, I'm able to sit beside a lovely pool while I post to CHICKS ROCK! and edit my novel. Paradise? Just about.

Working on the road doesn't feel too different from writing at home in some ways. Creatively, there's a particular space I seek to inhabit when I sit down to work, but it's more of a mindset than a physical location. I've never been tied to my desk, or my particular writing routines. In fact, part of my "routine" is to have no routine at all. I actually feel myself inspired by motion, by change, by taking advantage of great opportunities and situations and jotting down random notes at random times. I like the unpredictable, but you wouldn't necessarily know it to look at how I live my life day-to-day when I'm at home.

In fact, lately I am feeling like it is great for me to be out in the world while I do my work, rather than holed up in my tiny space pecking at the keyboard in solitude. It is easier to stay connected to the moment and the material in total silence and isolation at times--but only at times. The rest of the time my creativity feeds on the energy of people around me, strangers who I don't have to interact with, but who are going about their business and living their lives and reminding me why I put pen to paper in the first place.

When I left on this long trip, people kept saying to me, "but how will you get work done?" I wasn't worried, and it turns out I was right not to be. Because work for me is not unpleasant, not a thing I have to force myself to do. It is something that brings me joy and fulfillment, and I'm grateful for that. Believe it or not, there are fewer distractions to me when I'm away from home--no t.v., for instance, and no regularly scheduled programming of the real life variety either. I feel myself being boiled down to the essence of what I love doing: writing and exploring and sitting quietly in new places, taking it all in.

A dip in the pool now and again doesn't hurt, either. The downsides are few, as far as I'm concerned!

Are you a lover of routine, or do you relish shaking things up now and again?

A Moment for Whimsy

I'm feeling a bit whimsical today, so I have no choice but to blog in that spirit. On my recent trip to Chicago, I found myself getting a little camera-happy. I kept running into things that struck me as interesting. So, let this post be a photo essay of my recent wanderings:

I'm pretty fond of these little stone wolves. Especially the reader! I walked through a small park and spotted these guys just hanging out.

You've gotta love a hotel room that comes without a Bible in the top drawer, but with a paperback Oxford English Dictionary on the shelf. A writer's dream.



The height of decadence: red velvet french toast. I am not kidding. It is some sort of madness: slices of red velvet cake, batter-dipped and grilled like french toast. So wrong, but so delicious.





Who knew you could recycle your flag? This cracked me up. Seriously--if you have a flag, why wouldn't you want to keep it? If you don't like it, why do you even have it the first place? And if you've abused your flag to the point it needs to be replaced, are you really going to remember to bring it to the library for proper disposal?



A cocktail called a "treetini." Apparently, for each one of these sold, the restaurant/hotel donates money to plant a tree in some rainforest. I'm all for having a drink for a good cause!



I wasn't sure I could come up with a nice, cohesive way to wrap up this morning's randomness, but how's this: I'm grateful to have taken the time to slow down and pay attention to small details in the world around me. I got a lot of pleasure this week from things I don't always do, like studying public art and reading a whole menu before jumping to my old standby choices.

What small things have you noticed lately?

U Boat, Me Boat

I'm currently in Chicago, and I went to visit the Museum of Science and Industry this weekend, which is a great museum overall, but one I haven't been to in many years. I went there with a small boy who is obsessed with one of the exhibits--the U-505 submarine that is on display in a special wing of the museum.

The U-505 was captured from the German navy (Kriegsmarine) in 1944 by the U.S. navy, and is one of only five U-boats from the era that exist in the world today (above water, that is--many were sunk by Allied ships and submarines). It is on display in tact, and you can even take a tour of the inside of it, complete with lights and sound effects that make you feel like you're in a real submarine in wartime. It was pretty cool.

I was personally fascinated by the sub--I'm a sucker for WWII history, and submarine movies in particular are among my faves in the suspense genre. But, the best part was touring the sub with a kid. It was so much fun to watch him growing excited about the exhibit, and to get to play along. As an adult, it seems like you're supposed to nod thoughtfully and stroke your chin and walk steadily, taking in all the sights in a calm grown up fashion, rather than racing through the exhibit making submarine churning noises and acting out dramatic explosions. The kid way is better.

I've learned I can use the excuse of being a children's writer to get away with doing fun, silly things like getting my picture taken with the U-505's anchor. Lots of kids were doing it, but no adults. Some people looked at me strangely when I made my way through the flock of children to get my turn. Well, fine. Be that way. I don't mind being thought of as childlike, and I hope that I can always keep that fun, silly spirit alive in myself. It makes the whole world seems like a better adventure!

A Vicarious Escape

With bitterly cold weather and shorter, darker days for the next few months, and no set getaways planned for the near future, I escape into books, good movies, and television when I can. My new favorite television show that helps me escape when I want to is House Hunters International. There is an American version of the series, but I prefer seeing how people from all over the world buy or rent properties from countries other than their own. The locations can be beautiful, mediocre, or horrible, but none of these details deter me; I am interested in what motivates people to live outside of their comfort zones.

I know what it is like to live outside of my comfort zone; living in Indonesia in a rented house was definitely a challenge. I became accustomed to the extremely hot climate, mosquitoes, and battled food poisoning on and off for the first six months of my stay there. When I rented the house, I had to pay my rent for one year in advance, which was something I had never heard of before. I remembered this when I saw an episode of House Hunters International based in Indonesia, when a very uninformed expatriate grappled with the inevitability of paying all of her rent up front. Of course, the rent for one year tends to be much lower than in the United States; as an ESL teacher, I was given a housing allowance that equaled $10,000 US dollars, and paid $2,000 extra of my own money to rent the house I wanted that was walking distance from the school. The advantages and disadvantages of living in another country unlike my own made me more open-minded, even more so than I was before. House Hunters International reminds me of the education I received about these matters.

Of course, I will not be satisfied with “arm chair” escape only. These distractions sustain me while I get used to 2012 and make plans for it. I am definitely getting many ideas!

What are your favorite vicarious escapes from the daily grind?

Hometown Pride

When I go home to the place I grew up, it's always nice to see familiar things. To eat in familiar restaurants, shop in stores that don't exist elsewhere, and generally re-experience the best sights, sounds and flavors of my childhood.

One of those flavors happens to be DeBrand Fine Chocolates, a small (you guessed it) chocolate maker based in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Best. Chocolates. Ever. I say this as a person who isn't always a big chocolate fan. I always choose vanilla ice cream. When it comes to candy bars, I'm more likely to go for sweet and fruity Skittles rather than bitter dark chocolate. But I do love DeBrand. They make everything, from simple filled chocolates to elaborate mounded truffles and exotic designer chocolates. All tasty.

Despite appearances, I'm not trying to be an advertisement for DeBrand here. As a kid, I didn't even know DeBrand was a local company that people might not have heard of. I assumed they were everywhere. So when I grew up and learned that this special treat was Fort Wayne-specific, I was a little disappointed. They always seemed bigger than that to me.

I'm especially fond of DeBrand's new Faces of Diversity chocolates, which feature light to dark chocolates molded in the shape of faces. About a year ago, I saw these particular chocolates featured in O magazine in their "Look What We Found" feature, which shows off little novelty gifts and accessories.

I remember feeling so proud of seeing a Fort Wayne thing appear in a national magazine. Unaccountably proud. I remember thinking how neat it was that something from my hometown had come to the attention of someone as influential as Oprah. (Okay, that might be a stretch--it's doubtful that she takes note of every detail even in her own magazine.) But I was having a particularly rough day, as I recall, and it meant something to me, to see a little box of chocolates I knew well had made it to the big time. It sounds cheesy, maybe, but it gave me hope.

At home over the holidays, I received a Faces of Diversity box for Christmas. I'm still savoring them, bit by bit!

Two Roads Diverged*

The following was originally posted on March 23, 2011. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Holiday series.

Riding on the bus, this week and looking out the window at the wide world going by, I found myself thinking about the Robert Frost poem that ends with a stanza about roads diverging in a wood. Travel makes me meditative anyway, and I started thinking about times in the past when I’ve had to choose a path—and what might have happened if I’d gone a different route.

Everyone faces forks in the road, in big and small ways, over and over in life. It’s inevitable. We could talk about it on the level of major life decisions (law school or art school?), minor life decisions (pizza or Thai?), or even the day-to-day minutia of functioning in the world (speed through the yellow light or stop?). Today I find myself looking back and wondering…what if?

I think often in my own experience I’ve chosen the less traveled path, as Frost does in his poem. I’m both happy about and proud of that, but sometimes it leaves me curious—what if I had done the expected thing? What if I had followed the path that seemed easiest, or most clear? Would I be less than I am today? Would I be fabulously successful? Would I be miserable? Would I be happy?

I’m not living a life of regrets, or anything. I don’t particularly long for do-overs in any major aspect of my past. That’s not the purpose of my pondering, but simply to wonder…what if?

What are the big “what ifs” in your life?

Good New Days

There really is no such thing as the good old days when it comes to safety and freedom. When I heard a news report about the overall reduction of crime and overall violence in general since the 20th century, I was not surprised. Why? Because as one who loves history, I know enough about it to know that many problems people faced on a daily basis are not as common as they used to be. Even with the creation of more efficient weapons of destruction and more war, humanity in general is much better off than ever before. It just doesn’t feel that way sometimes.

As a woman today, I can travel on my own or with others with far less chance of being assaulted or killed than my predecessors. I admire travelling women in previous centuries because they risked their lives and took more risks than I will ever know. While it does not feel that way at times, I am aware that travel is much easier than in the past. The time it used to take to cross the Atlantic was so much longer and far less safe than most of us realize.

Even as a fan of classic movies and well done period films, I am wise enough to know that I would never have wanted to live during those more repressive times. Classic films I love, which tend to be of far better substantive quality than those produced today, often depict beautifully dressed men and women pursuing each other until either triumphing or losing in the end. In reality, the actors and actresses behind those roles were made and destroyed by the studio system that they worked for. I love Jane Austen’s novels and many of the films based on her works, but I would have hated to live in during her lifetime. She died in her 40s, and had to conduct herself within certain social parameters that most women today would find ridiculously restrictive.

Do you agree that living now is better than in previous eras?

Friday Forum: Quick Escape

The end of the summer is getting closer by the minute, and people are still trying to get their last bit of vacation time in before it ends. Of course, if you can't travel, it's always fun to pretend, so tell us: where would you travel to right now if you could go anywhere in the world for a quick escape?

Reconnecting With Friends

When my friend told me about her upcoming trip to California and asked if I wanted to come, I didn't have to think very long before saying yes. Driving along the California coast from LA to San Francisco in the summer? I was in. 

We planned the cities we'd stop at, some of the restaurants we'd try, and the touristy things we'd want to capture pictures of.

The moment of hesitation came later when I realized I hadn't traveled with her since our junior high school trip to Europe. What if she was one of those people who lugged around half their worldly possessions on a trip? What if she was a terrible driver? What if we ran out of things to Talk about? What if we drove each other crazy?

I didn't have anything to worry about, of course. She does carry a whole lot in her luggage, but that wasn't ever a problem. Our eating and sight-seeing preferences were very much in sync and we had a great time along our drive and in the cities. We reminisced on old times, caught up on our current lives, and got to know each other a lot better. In fact, we never really ran out of things to talk about.

We get so caught up in our lives that it's so easy to get disconnected from our friends. We meet up for drinks or grab lunch, but we don't always get to appreciate their friendship. I love when I'm reminded of why I'm friends with someone in the first place.