My New Home – for 10 Weeks Anyway

Exhausted and cold the little family of Scott, Alexis and Atticus arrived at my mother’s house. She led us downstairs to what would be my “apartment” for the next ten weeks. It is adorable, she did a lovely job. We go down the basement steps through a bunch of storage and there is a small bathroom and a few yards away from that a bedroom that mom really made into a little efficiency. It has a kitchen area – two cabinets, a little fridge, a table for two, and a microwave. There is a bed, of course, and a nice big closet, a dresser and best of all heat! It is just wonderful. I love it. Mom has stocked the fridge with V8 for me and Diet Pepsi for Scott, Atticus has been left out of the welcome package but not to worry there is TONS of cheese, and attention and anything his little puppy brain can conjure as heaven upstairs. Mom beams with pride as Scott and I remark how much we love it and what a wonderful job she has done. She has even gone as far as putting flowers out for us. It is truly a little oasis – that is until I realize the dresser is kind of moldy smelling. Ariana had a dresser in her basement that I could trade out so the room became perfect. She had a TV for me to use, but I decided I could use a few months off and I put it away. My future will be all studying, cooking and reading – and puppy kisses! Atticus choose my pillow as his bed!

Time to Orient Myself to My New Life

Around 8 in the morning Scott and I packed my life into a car and drove from DC to NY – with Atticus . I had mandatory orientation at 2:30 at the French Culinary Institute and while it was drizzling in DC the further north we traveled the harder the rain became. Atticus hates the car. He refused to sit by himself and just when I thought he was being brave and going toward the back of the car to explore, he vomited on the blanket coving the suitcase. Between puking pup, a boyfriend who was conducting conference calls with Honduran workers (and refusing to let me drive) and my nerves the trip was harrowing. We arrived with 20 minutes to spare and looked for a parking space. The rain was coming down and I thought Atticus would be due for a walk. We found a space and I went into the restaurant to wait for the orientation class. While I was sitting at the bar I realized that I didn’t have my wallet so I couldn’t even order a drink – so totally typical for me. Two younger boys walked in, one with an easily discernable NJ accent. I started to get nervous, I knew I was older for the program, but these guys looked like they were just out of high school.

The orientation went fine, and I felt like we were hearing information we had already been over. Many of our chefs came in and introduced themselves. I recognized one of them from Top Chef masters – he didn’t win – but the others were mostly a blur of white hats and coats. I paid close attention to the Italian chefs since that would be running the program. The chef who started the program walks around with a bunch of rosemary in his pocket so he would be easy to remember. The orientation was supposed to end at 4:00 and Scott and I needed to hightail it out of the city so we could get to my mother’s to put the dog in my room and head to Ariana’s for her birthday dinner. At 4:30 the last person spoke and we were then directed to a reception. I knew Scott was waiting so I got my bag - filled with Italian books and my new chef clothes, including three jackets with my name embodied on them! - and I snuck out.

Poor Atticus knows he isn’t supposed to pee on the floor in the house, he takes this to mean all hard surfaces. He wouldn’t go to the bathroom on the sidewalk. The parking place we thought we were so lucky to find was for commercial vehicles - $2 in parking meter fees down the drain. Worse then the money was the fact that Scott had to drive around the block, in the rain, with a dog hanging off of one shoulder

Salzburg Here I Come ... sort of

My trip to Salzburg held such promise.  Scott upgraded my ticket and I was looking forward to a glass of wine and kicking my feet up while watching a movie and eating my cardboard-like food off of real china. Sadly, I had forgotten to make my proper offerings of first bought suitcase sacrifices to the gods of travel.   The consequences of this oversight became apparent as my new boss and I ran out of small talk just as we hit traffic – about 15 minutes into the trip.  The ensuing 45 minutes consisted of stilted sentences punctuated with lifetime-long pauses.  We were late, and awkwardly trundled two suitcases, my laptop, my camera, a giant cardboard tube and an enormous cardboard box chock filled with photocopies needed for our meeting.

We managed to make it onto the airport parking lot shuttle bus and found we had been blessed with a very helpful bus driver who clearly saw herself as an ambassador/tour guide of the Dulles Airport economy parking lot.  She regaled the passengers with a list of the most common complaints she hears along her route. Which included important observations that there are not enough blue lot busses, buses aren’t clearly marked, and speeding tickets are too high. The speeding tickets prompt follow-on information about Virginia fines, a disquisition on tired travelers trying to get home and tips.  This passenger could contain it no longer and started giggling. This is no ordinary giggle it is a contagion.  It reaches and infects the flight attendant on her way to training in Atlanta, moves from her to the teen sitting next to her, on to the youngish man who told us he used to live in Atlanta and soon a full-fledged epidemic hit the bus.  Rather than quarantining the passengers, the friendly bus driver pulls over, without unloading her cargo, to help a lost looking woman on the side of the street. The passengers looked at each other what could be done? This is a shuttle ride like none other. I just crossed my fingers that we are going to make it to the United terminal before the 45-minute cutoff. 

Cape Photos

Oma Eating her Lobster

Erin working on dinner.

Election Ballot Brackets

Note: Players are limited to 2 ballots each. All ballots must be submitted, by 6:00 p.m. on Monday, November 3, 2008.

1st Prize – 50% 2nd Prize – 30% 3rd Prize – 20%


1. Who Will Be the Next President? (25 points)

[ ] Obama [ ] McCain



2. How Will the Battleground States Vote? (5 points each)

_______ Colorado _______
_______ Florida _______
_______ Indiana _______
_______ Nevada _______
_______ New Hampshire _______
_______ North Carolina _______
_______ Ohio _______
_______ Pennsylvania _______
_______ Virginia _______


3. The Hot Senate Races (5 points each)
Colorado _____ Udall (D) ­­­­_____ Schaffer (R)
Georgia _____ Martin (D) ­­­­_____ Chambliss (R)
Kentucky _____ Lunsford (D) ­­­­_____ McConnell (R)
Louisiana _____ Landrieu (D) ­­­­_____ Kennedy (R)
Minnesota _____ Franken (D) ­­­­_____ Coleman (R)
Mississippi _____ Musgrove (D) ­­­­_____ Wicker (R)
New Hampshire _____ Shaheen (D) ­­­­_____ Sununu (R)
North Carolina _____ Hagan (D) ­­­­_____ Dole (R)
Oregon _____ Merkley (D) ­­­­_____ Smith (R)
Texas _____ Noriega (D) ­­­­_____ Cornyn (R)
Virginia _____ Warner (D) ­­­­_____ Gilmore (R)

4. Final Electoral Vote (Tie breaker)
________ Democrat ________ Republican

Your score: _________

What your score says about you…
100 – 125: Big Time Pol 25 – 50: Sarah Palin
75 – 100: Academic / Pundit 0 – 25: “W”
50-75 TV Anchor

Relevant Websites
http://electoral-vote.com/
http://www.cnn.com/ELECTION/2008/
http://www.realclearpolitics.com/
http://www.usaelectionpolls.com/
http://www.270towin.com/

Cape Cod Dinner

Here is the family getting ready for the imported from DC lamb dinner - from left - Opa, Allison, Mom, Erin and Oma.

Have Lamb Will Travel

The annual Labor Day pilgrimage to visit my Oma and Opa started out as usual - Erin and I late for our flight to Providence, RI. Why were we late? Insert reason: 1) Alexis didn’t remember when the flight was, 2) Alexis didn’t factor sending out her “away from my desk emails” and closing up her work station into the time she would need to get to the metro, 3) Alexis doesn’t wear a watch 4) Alexis lost something 5) Alexis is just incapable of calculating time and travel properly. The list could go on and on. We are almost always late and when we are late, it’s always my fault. This was no exception. Scott ended up calling us car service. Although, I believe the car service was really a way for him to assuage some guilt for not taking us himself. I was so sick I was shaking, coughing, burning up and freezing at the same time, and that has to make a boyfriend feel bad.

As the car rolled into heavy holiday-weekend, rush-hour traffic, I promptly fell asleep on Erin’s lap. Meanwhile, Erin fished a glossy fashion magazine from the soft leather seat pocket and began to read. The magazine had some absurd name designed to make us feel like we were part of the lush crowd, but it really translated to “these people have too much disposable money for you to take them seriously.” The magazine’s suggested retail value? $35! What pray tell does one get for this $35? A bunch of beautifully photographed ads and some articles written by lovely PR people. We get to the airport, Erin dragging both our bags with her, remarked that mine sure was heavy. Yes, yes it was – It was filled with veggies from my CSA, and a large leg of lamb. One might ask who in their right mind boards planes with mass quantities of produce and frozen meat, but if one is asking that they haven’t traveled with me before. I know a sort of secret security line at BWI, we zip right through and go wait by our gate. I knock my purse over three or four times and in my delirium have a hard time locating all the scraps of receipts and flotsam and jetsam.

Our trip is slightly different this year, since we will be joined by our friend Allison. She hasn’t joined us in about 5 years or so and moved up to NY several years ago. She will be driving from NY with my mother, we will meet in Providence, grab dinner and head up to the Cape to visit the grandparents. Allison is texting us taunting emails about her trip to Rockland Bakery, the bread Mecca of our world. Our anticipation level is running high and Erin and I finally get on the flight and head off to paradise.

We wait for our luggage and I am so out of it that I can’t manage to hold my purse and my luggage at the same time. By the time we leave the airport building I feel so horrible I have to lean against a “no parking” sign to hold me up, and the cold, dirty metal feels fabulous against my face. I can’t lift the heavy lamb-filled luggage into the backseat, I have to rely on strong, healthy, traveling companions to look after the precious cargo. I all but collapse in the car. The one thing that can perk me up is Italian food! Next stop: Angelo's. On the way to the restaurant Allison tells us how my mother has talked her into quitting her job and becoming a Waldorf teacher, I know this conversation, I have had it many times with my mother. We eat to our stomachs outrage and I am so ready to fall back into the car and sleep for another hour while being chauffeured to my grandparents house. When the bill arrives and I reach into my purse to pay it, and surprise…NO WALLET! NO WALLET! It’s gone.

We look under the table, dump out the purse, look in the parking lot, pull all of the stuff out of the car… no wallet. I call Scott who agrees to wire money. Mom, Allison and Erin find a flashlight to search the car, they enlist the parking lot guy to use his good – young eyes, nothing. Then we start calling airports, I feel like an idiot leaving messages at random airport answering machines. First you push one and two and whatever to get to the answering machine who tells you your call is important and I just know there is someone at the other end laughing so hard there belly is shaking like Santa Clause’s. Then suddenly, after an hour of driving and an hour of brooding - mom driving, me brooding… I get a call from Southwest – they have my wallet at baggage claim. All around me the angels start singing, little animated birds are flying around and the car, a rainbow magically appears, and I feel like I am being lifted away on a cloud. The guy on the other end of the phone tells me that since there is no money in the wallet it probably doesn’t need to be locked up. He sounds apologetic about the fact that there is no money in the wallet. I assure him that I know there was no money in there, no one took it, I didn’t have any.

The amazing thing about this is that I left my wallet in a taxi two weeks before and had to wait at the police station in the AM for the property manager. The cab driver had turned it in. That time I had two dollars in it and the Cab driver turned those in too. Either my karma is good, or not all of humanity is bad, considering my luck, I am going with the humanity having vestiges of virtue.

I won’t get the wallet back until we make it back to the airport to go home which just doesn’t matter. I have my girls, I am on the way to the most beautiful place on earth to visit people I absolutely adore. I have a stupendous cold and a mom and grandparents to take care of me. And, best of all, the lamb made it through security without a problem.