I know that You *are* for me...

this song came just when i needed it. a long day, in a long month... where my brokeness is quite reflected. in days like this, i rejoice for God's grace. because if His grace weren't there, i know for sure that i wouldn't be here. oh Lord, forgive my sin. forgive my lack of integrity and my lack of purpose. forgive my lack of trust and my lack of hope; my lack of faith. see the blood of jesus on me that cover those and continue to extend your grace to me even if i sabotage myself everytime you try to do it right. i know you are for me. i will trust your promise. :)

to love or not to love... ultimately, that is the question

Lately, I have been having a very hard time loving someone.  It's like I am genetically predisposed to not love this person.  It's even harder when this person is in a position of authority above me and not only do I have to respect him but as a spiritual authority I have to respect him.  In order for me to respect him, I have to muster some sort of love from somewhere.  However, I'm struggling big time.  He is so clueless of what he does; he is so clueless of what he doesn't do.  I keep asking God to give me love.  I also asked other people who have had issues with him in the past for "indirect" advice. It just isn't working.  It's the most frustrating thing.  The worse part is that he keeps doing things to make it feel like I'm justified.  On the other hand, I have God telling me that I have to respect him; that I have to love him... love him!!! What the heck?  The person stills my joy whenever I see him. It's like an automatic reaction because I always see him as looking for something to benefit himself and that is just wrong.  It's wrong to feel that way because he can't possibly always be looking for some gain. I'm just really hoping that I see some good in him. I know he has it; I'm convinced.  I just don't' see it. 

It's weird when God tells you clearly that you have to love someone even when your very core tells you that you just don't want to.  It's a struggle and God doesn't forget to remind you at moment that He is always right.  He uses other people to do so; he uses your own mind even if your heart is stubborn.  I have prayed, a couple of times, for God to change my heart.  At the same time, I feel that one of the reasons why this is happening is because if I let this person have his way, I'd be taken advantage of.  At the same time, I know I am being taught a lesson here but it's not a very pleasant one.  In any event, I hope that God hears my prayer and allows me to let go of this "caution" which sometimes seems to be turning into resentment.  I do not want to do that because I know this person has good points, and probably even good intentions deep down past his emotional, egotistical needs.  he he. :) Also, I am very afraid that I may internalize some of his habits and reflect things that I find completely not kosher.  I do not want to emulate that aspect of the leadership I see and that worries me constantly.  It's all about love. If I can't love him, even his bad parts, I can't truly appreciate who he is, in his entirety.  Oh, God, please.  Let me develop a deep, filial love for this person so that I can see you through him and see your work in him regardless of what I think of the strategy.  Please, help me be more tolerant of him and his ways.  Please help me see what I'm doing wrong that doesn't allow me to change my feelings.  Please take over and change what needs to be changed.  Please help me love him.

it's been a while...

since i have really liked someone without effort.  guys that i have ended up somewhat liking have been so because after a while i seem analyze them and come to the conclusion that they're all right; or because there's some mystery and i feel like exploring;  or because they have showered me with attention, etc., etc.  however, lately... i have been very happy when i see a particular someone.  i can't control my smile when i see him.  he makes me giggle--sometimes out loud.  the only thing is that i have no clue who this guy is.  he goes to my church and plays an instrument, that's all i know.  i see him there on sundays.  however, i have never had a conversation with him. the only word we exchanged was "thank you," coming from  him as i made a gesture to push the a door i was walking through a bit longer so that the person behind me could also walk through.  the said "'thank you" in a deep voice and when i looked back it was him.  in classic 'moi' fashion i just gave a superficial smile and kept walking.  why? why?  i ask.  anyway, when i came from my DR vacation i was really happy to see him.  i was very, very surprised by that reaction and since then do not know what to do with it.  i obviously like that guy, but why? he's not like drop-dead handsome or anything to produce this. i have no point of reference as to what his character is and/or how he is.  regardless,  i like him, all of the sudden and with no real reason.  this is such a silly crush.

update:  i forgot to mention that he has a girlfriend apparently.  oh, the horror.  anyway, it's a crush not a relationship hijacking. i'm sure it will go away soon.  :) 

I know this trip changed my life...

I know, I know...  It may sound like an exaggeration but I think this trip will have long-lasting ramifications for me.  I’m not sure how but this trip will mark something in my life which I may or may not understand at the moment but I know it will do something.  As I prepared to leave I started to get nervous.  I’m not sure if  it was because of having to pack, and/or waking up in the middle of the night thinking I was going to oversleep or what, but I was “sobresaltada”.  I realized that my life was not necessarily what I want it to be and that I have to stop this prolonged quasi-adolescence that we have in the US and start living life in a way that show that I have made some progress.  I feel like I’m such a baby compared to people in the DR; people my age and older who have very adult lives and behave like it.  

If I can, I will live there again.  I think I can manage it.  I want to save some money and buy a piece of land in the campo—hopefully near Las Terrenas or something similar.  I would love to retire there if possible. But then, thinking of my friend and her friend, most of their conversations revolved around money and/or people who had it.  I do not want to live that way.  I felt bad for them at times because they just seemed so lost.  They seemed so focused on things of this world and at one point I realized that this is what grace is all about.  The fact that God can extend grace to us even when we choose to be so far away from him and his things just makes it so worthwhile.  I also realized that there’s really nothing I can do to change their hearts.  God has o do that.   However, I was frustrated because I wasn’t sure on what I could do to make the process easier.  I was waiting for an opportunity, an opening of sorts but I never really go one.  I don’t know what I should have done.  I did talk to my friend a bit but that was while driving to breakfast; not very substantial.  We the two nights I was there in the Jacuzzi gazing at the starts.  The second night Ivan made this amazing baked pork loin with a Jack Daniel’s marinade and salad, all with French olive oil from his brother-in-law’s place there, and some pink salt from the Himalayan mountains.  I was like, am I really in the DR?  He also had some really good Riesling.  We ate while watching Andrea Boccelli’s concert in Las Vegas on DVD.  It was just exquisite.  

I would love to live that life, focused on becoming rich and making myself known in with the people that matter so that I can achieve that goal.  However, I can’t.  I can’t just work for money.  I  have to work for something greater otherwise I feel like I’m not doing justice to the life I’ve been gifted.  I don’t want my days to be an endless spiral of strategies to get money and then spend it, or save it.  I want something more.  Unfortunately, I don’t know that there’s more to life than this.  

Las Terrenas & El Portillo

After driving from La Cumbre in Salcedo, we set off for Las Terrenas through the northeast countryside.  We asked for directions a couple of times; not because we were lost but because it seemed we were going nowhwere so it was best to make sure.  Lord! Those roads through the campos are the most jumpy I have ever been to.  Probably Aruba’s rock safari was comparable but not really.  In any event, we finally made it to Nagua and stopped, of course, at Chen’s.  Comedor Chen is this small restaurant facing the beach—a bit far from it, but facing it nonetheless—where this older woman has some of the best food you can eat on the eastern part of the island. We chatted with her and she said she has been there for more than 30 years, which is true because I have always seen that place there and I lived in Nagua when I was five  years old.  She started with a roadside stall and then moved to a better room location paying $70 pesos a month back then.  Then she moved to the current location which was then expanded.  She was so cute and fun to talk to.  We had crab meat in creole sauce, I had claws (muelas) and Wilma meat  (masa) with tostones and a Presidente Light along with a cereza juice.  We also got a side of beans because they made some of the best beans e-ver. 

On our way to Las Terrenas we stopped by my aunt’s house in Sanchez and then met Wilma’s friend, Ivan, to go up the mountain to then go down to our destination.  We drove through the cliffs and raggety roads to finally get to his house.  His wife is in France.  She left that same day to go give birth to their third child.  She is French and he is Dominican.  There’s a lot of French and Italian ex-pats there.  He’s an civil engineer, entrepreneur and previously tourism minister for the region.  His house is beautiful.  It’s simple yet elegant and very practical.  Here’s a picture of one side of the house.  We stayed in the pool house which was very comfortable.  His son Natan is 8 years old and a total riot. I like the kid.  But I liked one of the dogs more.  Lolo, he was my favorite; even if he wouldn’t let us out of the car every night barking and growling at us.  He’s a guard dog but totally cool—in daylight.  :) 

Our first night there we went out to this very nice beachfront place called El Mosquito.  It was the cutest bar with couches facing the water where we sipped on some caipirinhas while listening to the waves in dimed lighting.  It was nice.  There were some Americans next to us but everyone else was European except for some Dominican sanquinpankis accompanying them.  

{Alllow me to clarify what a sanquipanqui is.  Sanquipanquis are people, male or female, gay, straight or both depending on request, that “hang out” with tourist for a nominal fee, i.e. prostitutes.  They are not, however, your typical street corner prostitute.  They may be, but they “hang out” with tourist it seems for longer periods rather than by the hour or night.  They’re kinda like rent-a-boyfriends/gfs for your stay there.  You can totally tell which ones are sanquipanquis by the way they dress and/or the fact that you see a very, very, very dark—usually young—woman with an while European at all the different venues and/or beaches throughout the island. The no. 1 reason why people come to the DR is for its people, according to surveys.  I wonder if it is only for these type of people or just people in gerenal.  They tell me it is the latter but I really don’t think so. }

Anyway, after El Mosquito we headed to the place across the street for some music and possibly dancing.  There was no one there so we headed to another place.  Finally we decided to go into this place where all the locals go.  Well, all the locals in a bar/club on a Sunday night are the sanquis so it was quite surreal.   We were two of about 10 people who were not prostitute-looking folk out of like 50 to 60.   It was so much fun to be there but also so sad.  That must have been and STD breeding ground.  You probably could hardly breathe in there without catching one.  Even sadder was the fact that most of those people were little by little selling their dignity for money.  They were objectifying themselves for money.  They were literally selling their soul for money.  After a while, even with the two drinks I had in me, we left.   It was too much.  When we got home, Lolo, my favorite of the two very scary-looking dogs at the house, would not recognize us so we were trapped in the car for a bit until Ivan came to open the door.  It was hilarious.  We were in the car and the dog would bark/growl which would make us close the windows.   

The Capital and other happenings

Day two was interesting.  I headed out to my dad’s business to check things out.  It’s not the same as it was before when I was little but it is still standing. The economy has hit it pretty hard so it’s  a little sad to see that there are only 4 full time employees in addition to my dad, when usually there were about 7 and up to 10.  I hung out there for a while and then headed to see an old friend but she wasn’t home.  After I went to La Sirena which is the Dominican Walmart of sorts with lots of departments, a huge supermarket and wine store along with a food court.  I don’t see any Walmarts here so it’s probably because La Sirena type store and are nationally owned were smart enough to expand before a foreign entity could take over.   They have so much crap that it makes me wanna have a home here so that I can buy stuff.  At night I went to my aunt’s house and used the wireless Internet. 

The next day I went back to use the wireless Internet and ended up staying with my aunt all morning helping her in the kitchen because the cooking /cleaning lady had gone to the doctor’s office.  I did the dishes and help with food preparations.  It was good. I laughed a lot.  Afterwards I headed over to Santo Domingo, the capital, to meet up with my paternal siblings for the first time. It was an interesting meeting.  They met me at the hotel and we headed to an Italian restaurant right across from it—Il Capo.  The restaurant was nothing out of this world but it was good.  My “older” sister paid the bill.  Her name is Desiree and she is a lawyer working for a bank.  My brother, Vladimir and a year younger than me, is a publicist with a Masters from Spain and is looking for work currently.  They both have a 3 year old little girl and a 5 year old boy, respectively.  There were moments of awkward silence and moments for nervous chatter. We talked about Spain and work and looking for work.  Then we talked about our families and our father.  Afterward, we dropped Vladimir off at his house—his mother’s house—and Desiree and I went to a mall nearby to have coffee/tea.  We chatted for a while about our father and how my mother contacted her, etc.  There were moments where I felt a bit jealous where she mentioned that he would send her letters and stuff but that she wouldn’t open them.  He never really wrote me a letter of that I felt a bit left out.  However, given that he had a mental illness towards the latter part of his life, dealing with incoherent letters would have been too much for me to handle also.  I probably would not have read them either.  In any event, it was an interesting talk.  I feel that she has some resentment towards him still and wonder what the source of it is exactly.  She spoke negatively towards him at times.  Vladimir definitely has resentment towards him.  I totally got that from him.  In fact, Desiree mentioned that he didn’t want to go initially.  She didn’t force him either but he wasn’t that much into it to begin with, which I noticed as soon as we sat at the restaurant and he started watching the TV to his side.  Eventually he was quite chatty, when things focused more on what he cared about, i.e. his experience in Spain and looking for a job.  It was a surreal meeting for me.  They are my siblings; as much my siblings as the ones I grew up with are.  However, there is this abysmal distance between us.  I didn’t feel much warmth from them. I didn’t feel like they were "emphatically" looking to meet with me.  It felt like something that had to be done.  On my end, there wasn’t really much of affection felt for them. It was like hanging out with people that for a reason or another you happen to have to hang out with.  It felt like having to hang out with people from a new job but without the possibility of making new friends.   It was weird.  But I guess that will come with time. I'm not made of stone, you know? Towards the end of the it, my sister kept wondering why my father never brought me and them two together.  He definitely had the older brother and the other two hang out; and I hung out with the older brother but never with the other two.  I have a feeling that it was because of their mother.  I could bet money on the fact that she probably forbade it.  Anyway, I think they’re both very cool, especially the guy.  He seems like the artsy type that I would get along with and talk for hours about nothing really important but that sounds so.  I like his style a lot.   I think he’s kinda cool/hot. I’m looking forward to meeting up with my older brother who is in Philadelphia on vacation.  Go figure, when I come to DR he goes to the US.  I hope I catch him.  He sounds a lot more friendly and warm; like he really wants to meet with me.  I hope I can keep in contact with them and develop some sort of friendship.   After all, we are siblings. I have always wanted to "have" and older brother.  Maybe this will be it.   :)

Day 1 - continued

The guys whose names are Yampiel—which is the phonetic approximation of Jean Pierre but on his cedula it is Yampiel—and Juan, decided to go to Yampiel’s house to see if they found the office key. 

Thus, along go I with these two unknown gentlemen to what seems like a very rural municipality that doesn’t even have asphalt roads.  We get to their house and I stay in the car.  The look and look but can’t find the key.  Again, they decide to go back to the office but no luck, and then back to Yampiel’s house.  By this time I already knew how to get to his house.  Afterward, we stopped by the locksmith’s house but he was out, “working?” asks Yampiel, “no, just out,” says the woman who came out of the small house.  On our way back they find this guy on a scooter who apparently knows how to do this and they ask him to come.  They tried to pick the metal door’s look.  I was actually a glass door with a metal frame.  It doesn’t work.  They ask the neighbor for  hammer but he’s using it so they can’t use it.  Finally, they start hitting it with a screwdriver and a huge rock.  Here are the picture of the ordeal.  It was so funny.  They were all laughing because when my friend’s brother—their boss—got there he would be screaming about it.  Yampiel actually thought that he left the key on top of a car and it disappear.  But since he’s car was broken into twice in the past month and his wallet stolen he was going to lie about it and say that the key had been stolen too.  After much hammering and laughing, the lock was broken—piece by piece.  Right then and there came Jhonny, the boss.  When Yampiel told him that they had to break the lock because the key was stolen, Jhonny goes, “I have the key! You liar!” It was hilarious. 

Afterward, he sent the guys to get me fresh coconut water and to exchange some money for me.  While waiting for them I had an amazing conversation with my friend’s brother with whom I never had spoken more than 2 minutes with.  We talked about God and how he had been searching for God in the past but how he feels his life is not ready to commit to a relationship with him.  I told him that everything has its time but to not wait too long because committing to God is a process and we are never ready but He makes us ready. He told me a bunch of personal stuff which really surprised me since he seemed like a very distant borderline arrogant person prior to this.  I had seen him many times before but we  had never really talked  much.  He’s a bit older so that may be part of it.  Then I asked him if I could pray for him to which he said that I shouldn’t waste my time.  I said I just wanted to bless him with a prayer and so I did.  It was short and to the point but I felt the need to bless this man who apparently needs to fill a void in his hear but seems to be confused as to how.  We talked about his kids, his life in New York city, his mother’s illness and death, his lifestyle and how he wants to change it but has a lot of pressure not from friends, etc., we talked about everything.  Throughout the whole conversation I could not believe my eyes and ears.  Then it started pouring, we were under this hut-type structure like a terrace of sorts surrounded by old, classic cars which he collects---a 1970ish Benz, an ford truck from the 50’s maybe and an convertible Oldsmobile from I don’t know when. There was also a Harley.  The rain started to hit us and we moved closer to the center of the structure and kept talking.  It was so surreal.  It looked like the flood and then, 20 minutes later, it stopped and the blazing sun came out again.  We kept talking for probably two hours and finally he called the airport to ask for my suitcase.  They said the flight had been delayed and now it would get here at 5:45pm.  We agreed that he would get it for me and send it in a cab since it wasn’t safe for me to drive at night.  I don’t know what happened but by the time he and set out to escort me to the highway it was 5:15pm so we decided that I would go to the next town over to pick up a car that was at the mechanic and then go to pick up the suitcase.  Finally, I went to the airport and got my suitcase, not without a wait of course.  I’m amazed as to how laid back people here are and how the notion of good customer service is completely different from the US.  In any event, I left the airport to SFM at around 7pm and it was already dark.  I was a bit scared because I had never driven through there at night by myself.  Plus, everyone kept saying that it was very dangerous for Dominicans that live here to do that let alone me.  In any event, I made it home rather quickly and with nothing abnormal.  It was a good drive. 

what a trip! day 1 part 1

i'm in the DR for the next 9 days.  it has been such an adventure so far.  first i didn't sleep the night before because i had to do my laundry so that i could pack some clean clothes for my trip.  then, since my flight was at 7am i had to get to the airport on time.  i called a cab to pick me up at 4:30am and they were there right on time.  as we set out for the trip through the jamaicaway, it was pouring like crazy. the rain just seem to be ready to finish anything it encounter plus the wind and lighting every so often.  when the old haitian cab drive turn on the heat to defog the windows it didn't work. everything started to fog up and he had to stop with his blinking lights on so try to fix it. eventually he gave up and turned on the AC.  go figure! the AC! i was freezing. so i get to the airport and my bag was 43 pounds which was good but i really don't know what i packed in there to make it so heavy.  then the guy tells me that my flight to NYC is delayed 50 minutes that that it leaves at 8:50.  then i asked him, well what happens to my trip to DR.  so he put me on stand-by for the 6:05am flight so that I didn't miss my connection.  there i found this woman from church with her little girl, she was also an ESOL student when i was at HERC. she was also on stanby.  finally they start boarding and i get on but she's left back. i felt bad.


the flight to NYC was pretty turbulent since it was raining so bad. my little PTSD kicked in.  while at the connection at JFK I attempted to withdraw money with my ATM and then realized i had not called BOA to tell them I was travelling so I did that. Thank God!  The flight to DR was nice. I slept. no one was beside me so it was comfortable.  Then i get to the airport.  I wait at baggage claim.  My bag is not there.  I wait. Nope, no light blue hardshell suitcase. I go to baggage claim and there's no one.  I wait. Then I go to baggage claim again and talk to the guy. in the imterim, there was this other guy that i had seen from my flight in Boston and he was also missing his bag.  i told him that I thought our bags had been delyaed since our original flight was delayed.  We both went to baggage claim. He was such a thug--covered in tattoos and with what appeared to be really bag braces or a grill.  not sure. i didn't want to stare.  i got a form to pick up my bag later and they told me that it was on the next flight at 4:15pm.   I was afraid that the guy who was picking me up would leave.

when i come out.there's really no one at the waiting area.  then i see these two little thugs with a hand-written sign that read, "Yassier Fernandez." no capitalizatoin whatsoever.  i go to them and they take me to pick up the car i was renting from my friend's brother who has a rent-a-car place.  good thing becuase the car they picked me up in was horrendous. as we go to the place it's not the place i had seen years ago so automatically i start trying to memorize where i'm going in case i have to run back. :) they looked like they had just been sniffing something so it's natural that i'd be a bit worried. cut me some slack. i get to the place and they can't find the key to the office. typical DR... i'm going to stop here because the internet cafe bill is going to be high and I haven't exchanged my money yet.  but it gets better! :)

i got a job! whoohoo...

for the past year i have been waiting the fate of my federally funded program.  it's been a while since we knew that all funding for abstinence education had been cut by Prez Obama. in fact, that's the first thing he slashed upon taking office.  it was kinda crazy.  i couldn't really look for a job because i had to end things now.  but i also had to wait until something came through since God was in the mix.  it was a total faith exercise of sorts.  not say that there weren't moments when i looked at those idealist daily messages to see what kind of jobs were coming up; or that when my dear friends suggested i send my resume because they had put in a good word for me at this agency that was looking for a Director of Fundraising--I was very touched by their care;  or that there were moments were I'd be like, "shoot, in a couple of weeks i will not have a job and i do not have 6 months worth of savings in case it takes me as long as it took my brother to find a job.  everything was up in the air.  i was contemplating moving to NYC or to DC if this was God's way of telling me to move on. i was thinking of maybe going abroad and teaching English in Japan for a while, which i still want to do but it's not possible right this minute.  anyway, it was hectic emotionally.  not to mention that the women i work with decided that they were not going to look for a job either.  i'm not sure what my role in that was but as the director of the program i felt a bit responsible every time i said that i knew everything was going to be find for me because i felt that God was just going to come through. i always specified, though, that whether i stayed or had to leave something good would come out of it.  i just knew it.  so with that, when they said they'd stay put until the very end, i felt a bit anxious about that.  even though it had nothing to do with me really, it still felt heavy.

well, on tuesday morning at 10am i was packing my bags to leave; and on tuesday morning at 10:15am i was in a car with my boss with as much relief as i could possibly feel after listening to his 45 second conversation with the federal program officer stating that we had been awarded the 3M grant we asked for.  i'm still processing the whole thing but i am certain of something: God is faithful, and this was a miracle. there were so many qualified applicants that didn't get this money, and we, the baby, got it! it was so competitive that i had my doubts.  in any event, i have a job.  we can continue our work.  i don't know how long i'll be there but i know that it has been good.   i told my boss that i felt like Abraham and Isaac.  he thought i meant I was Abraham and that God had rewarded my faith, but I meant Isaac.  i was about to be slaughtered and obliterated; waiting with anticipation for a fate that was somewhat obvious but that i chose to ignore and pretended not to notice.  then, at the very last minute i was spared.  it was such a sense of relief and gratitude for it.  i think i was also being grateful not because God provided but because i had been rebellious.  i was being rebellious by to pleading to God to save me; not crying before him to provide.  i kinda said, "well, you got me into this God, now you clean it up."  i think it was arrogance.  at the same time.  i cried before him, a lot, really a lot, when my boss just dumped the proposal on my lap and i had to spend the worst three weeks of my professional career so far.  it was excruciatingly painful for me to just have to do something that in my eyes was his job and he just decided to "delegate" with no explanation as to what, when, how, why.  not to mention that i had never written  a proposal that required so much and a federal RFP at that.  so my tears weren't for deliverance but for anger and a sense of injustice, which now i feel God heard and part of it was answered by this. not to mention, that all other people who pleaded, my boss, included make up that mosaic of prayers and petitions for this situation to be resolved.

at any rate, when i heard the news i didn't scream nor did i cry.  i texted my colleagues and said, "praise god! ladies, we have a program officer." it's almost as if what i was expecting all along happened and it was almost de facto.  there wasn't really a surprise because God is that faithful.   i don't know what that means and/or what i have to fix in my way of thinking or seeing God but i just feel that this is an expected blessing and He came through.  :)

i'm in love with weddings...

Becca's wedding was so gorgeous.  I guess events reflect people's personalities and hearts; this one was no exception.  It was simple elegance and just a genuine feeling of joy. I really, really enjoyed it.  It makes me want to get married.  Her dress was so beautiful.  The venue was breathtaking. The ceremony was just fun and unique.  I was very touched.   It was hilarious when Time, Anne and I were leaving the hotel we bumped into Rick's cousins who were taking the limo to the wedding venue and asked us if we wanted to ride along.  The funny par it that the venue was--literally--across the hotel and the limo had to go around the block so that we could reach a place that would have taking a total of 2-3 minutes to walk to.  It was funny.  And it was a full limo! For like 15 people?  And there we were, 5 of us going around the block.  I guess Chinese people are big on limos for weddings. The rabbi officiating was very old which is why I think he was just so hilarious.  I was cracking up with him even if he didn't meant to be funny.  During the reception we were assigned to the "Boston" table which might as well have been yuppie Asian table.  Except for Tim, Olive--this Chilean girl who looks as blond as blond can be--and me, everyone else was Asian (Chinese-, Philipino-, and Thai-American).  We dance, dance to disco, hip-hop, banghra, and jewish music.  It was really funny when one of the guys at the table asked me if I was Daniel's date for the night. Daniel is this guy who read a poem at the wedding and who happens to be clearly gay.  Everyone at the table new it but I guess that we kept laughing and talking--he sat next to me--so it seemed as if we were together. I thought his question was cute.  Afterwards we all went to the hotel bar for drinks. I had an early flight the morning after so I passed the bar gig and went to bed--I was there for 10mins out of courtesy but after a whole night with overachievers who have all these superficial conversation that I don't really care about, I was ready to leave.  They were a fun bunch, and I liked them all.  I was just tired of forced chitchatting.  :)  

Anyway, I had so much fun! I was really happy for Bec and think that they'll have a wonderful, complimentary marriage.  It seems that way. 

I was really surprised that I wasn't tired towards the end of it since I  had spent the day waling around the mall at Towson and Baltimore in general. O.M.G. I will have an individual blog entry on this crab cake I had a Lexington market.  It was to D-I-E for.  The ghettoest of places, but the best crab cake I've ever had so far.  All in all, the trip to Baltimore was nice. Even the Indian cab driver taking me to the airport was awesome.  All he had to do was show pictures of his family.  :)

Charm City here I comes!

Apparently, that’s Baltimore’s nickname.  Not sure where it comes from so I’ll have to look it up.  I saw it on the Light Rail posters on my way from the airport.  It was an uneventful flight.  I seem to be getting over my little PTSD from my Iberia scare about 3 years ago but I still feel a bit uneasy about planes dipping in mid-air.  Anyway, I made may way from the airport to the Center St. stop on the light rail and for a minute seemed to be getting lost.  Eventually, after withstanding the humidity in this place, I found the hotel.  Peabody Court Hotel is not oohhh-aaaahhhh amazing but it’s cute.  It has an old elegance feel to it and it’s comfortable.  Right across the street is the Baltimore Book Festival so after dropping off my bags I went to check it out.  It was cool. Lots of books. He he. I decided to walk towards Lexington Market which apparently is the place to go for good crab cakes.  In the span of about a block I went from brick-posh, Manhattan like affluent neighborhood to like… well, the ghetto. Totally the ghetto.  I got a bit scared there for a minute but I couldn’t turn back.  I have this thing when I’m in a new city where apparently I blend in well since random people ask me for directions.  It’s really weird.  I’m like, “I have a giant camera hanging from my shoulder and seem to be quiet informally dressed on a weekday morning, what on earth does not show you that I’m a tourist?”  It’s amusing.  So I was walked down ghettoland… it was so ghetto that the jewelry store at a corner had a 6-foot poster with pictures of grills, as in for your mouth.  I thought that was classic.  Anyway, as I walked down the street there seem to be a lot of traffic—it was rush hour 5/6pm—and cars where stopped at a red light.  Suddenly, I hear this guy going, “Excuse me. Excuse me.  Can I ask you a question?”  I don’t know why I paused my walk but I figured it would be the polite thing to do.  I said I guess and he goes, “If I tell you that I’m falling in love with you, would you believe me?”  It was so lame.  This tough looking black dude in a giant SUV asking me that lame question.  I looked at him, smiled and said, “uh, nope,”  and proceeded with my walk.  It was funny.  When I got to junkie-land, which is the Lexington Market area, the place was closed.  There was this black-panther-throwback Muslim guy with a van and a speaker “preaching” about the Quran and then singing some weird 70s disco song.   It was quite an adventure.  I headed back to the hotel since it was getting dark and ordered room service. As I walked in, my friend Becca and her wedding peeps were heading out to the rehearsal dinner.  She said they’d get drinks later and would call but afterwards I just wanted to go to bed and did just that.  That’s my first day in Baltimore. I kinda like it.  We’ll see what tomorrow brings.  Can’t wait for the wedding!

hmmm...

hello world! it's been a while.  i have been busy with lots of things: moving, work grant ending, end-of-year activities, funeral, etc., etc.   

i'm getting used to my college world.  i should say my weird college world.  i'm one of the few non-japanese around here.  everyone else is a japanese female--except for janitorial staff which is hispanic, and cafeteria staff who are haitian.   it's almost like a little parallel universe here.  i haven't had much chance to interact with the girls.  i'm in the lounge now available for homework help and i can't stop laughing about this one girl.   she is one of those borderline "japanese bar hostess" looking girls.  she wears huge fake eyelashes everyday, and really, realy pink blush.  her hair is dyed blonde. her style is almost like this one except that the hair is not curly but straight but with the same gigantic bangs.   anyway, so she is talking to her friend in Japanese about this guy that she met at Copley and who gave her his email address.  then she comes to me because she wants to write to him and doesn't really know what to say.   first of all, she just got the email about an hour ago.  so for her to email him right away, it find it funny. but then she says that she asked him for the email. mind you, this girl's english is somewhat limited but she managed to ask him for his email.  then she says that she doesn't like him and that he has a girlfriend but that she likes another boy that also works at the store and that's why she wants to become friends with boy no. 1.  she also said that she told him so.   i kinda helped her a little with maybe what to say and told her i'd proofread it if she wanted to.  the message was like, "i'm in my dormitory now.  i wanna be a friend to you. i'm waiting for your message back."  there was more but i just thought it was so funny.   she sent her message to him so i'll wait to ask her what happened.   i'm looking forward to a possible story.  she' hasn't been here even a week!  i love these girls.

this week i attended a funeral for a dear friend.   a lady from my church who was just great and loving.  she died from cancer and although it wasn't a shock, it still is difficult.  she was one of those people that loved me always and i really never did anything special.  she just made me feel loved and accepted that way.   in any event, i haven't been to many funerals in my life but this one was my first full funeral as an adult.  it was very sad.  i didn't think it would be very emotional for me but it was.  it was weird that the interment wasn't the saddest part but a song that her grandchildren dedicated for her.  i cried quite a bit.

two conclusions

lately, as a result of interactions with someone, i have come to two very clear conclusions:

1.  i very much dislike men who can not decide and/or stand their ground; and
2.  i lose respect for someone who is easily manipulated and/or swayed without even attempting to formulate their view on a particular issue. 

this is the case with a guy that i work with in a committee.  he is the most indecisive person ever. granted that he is the only guy in a committee of 5 with at least 3 very opinionated women, but still, he could very well take that as an advantage rather than a weak point.  during a meeting he fluctuates between a number of opinions, never his own.  after the meetings, when he has had an earful from another committee member who also happens to be someone that he was in a very tumultuous romantic relationship, he emails and changes his mind.  what the heck? why on earth would he not just voice his view when we are all together rather than waiting until the middle of the night to send an email on a topic that we had already covered and death with?  it puzzles me. i dislike seeing people that are such pushovers because as much as i want to value their opinion, i cannot really respect them. i can never really know if that's their own, well-formulated and thought out perspective, or if they are just adopting it out of fear and/or complacency. 

for example, this guy, i think he has a lot to offer. i believe he is an intelligent man with clear, good points.  however, he's so scared of whatever it is that he's scared of that he never really brings anything to the table except in situations where he is feeling attacked and then explodes--which by the way, i have only seen twice in about a year and half. 

in women, i do not see this trait much because women are chatty and eventually something comes out.  that's why i dislike this most in men.  there's something reassuring about a man that knows his place and is confident with who he is and what he has to offer.  that's an attractive trait--both romantically and in friendship.  you do not have to be loud to project that; a quite man can be just as confident as a not-so-quiet one.  in my opinion, many times loud people lack confidence and must find it somewhere else, i.e. noise.  but anyway, this guy drives me nuts. i have been meaning to chat with him at one point, very amicably and respectful, of course, to tell him how i think he's way of handling conflict/diversity of opinion/decisions sometimes is not the most effective one.  you can't wait until you get home to type an email that clearly affects the discussion we just had for a half hour.  what's up with that? 

i am really going to have to pray for wisdom on this one because i do not want to perpetuate my pushover idea of him any further.   i just want him to voice his concerns and not be so susceptible to other people's manipulations, including mine.  i really want to respect him and show him respect.  it's just so difficult when he doesn't seem to respect his own judgement. 

i'm not sure if i mentioned this earlier but my mother had a chat with my paternal brother in DR and brought back his info with her.  i am horrible at calling people, which along with the awkwardness of contacting a person that i met once or twice but never saw again in 25+ years, make the recipe a bit difficult.  well, finally, after some indirect pressure and his diligent follow-up, i spoke with him today.  it was very weird.  i felt like i was chatting with someone that i had met at the supermarket and/or online and we were have a pre- romantic date convo.  there was a sense of awkwardness, nervousness, anxiety, and overall what-the-heck-is-going-on-here-and-why-me? kinda feeling. 

the conversation was pleasant and he definitely sounds a bit older brother-ish.  i smiled a number of times with some comments which illustrate how different we are culturally and emotionally.  i am going to a wedding in DR next month so we are coordinating a meeting along with my paternal siblings (sis + bro).  things are a bit difficult because apparently he is coming to Philly when i'm in DR and I can't stay later because there are other weddings i have to attend, pre- and post- DR, in MD and MA.  we'll see what happens. i thought it was endearing for him to close his first voicemail message with "te quiero mucho. un abrazo". i definitely would not have said that to a person that i don't really know and with whom i share half a genetic pool but no sense of familiarity.  he sounds like a cool guy. i'm looking forward to knowing him more and becoming his sister.  we'll see what new adventures are in store for me with this....

geesh.  i have had a couple of busy days lately.  it's all good though! i finally put all my junk in storage--thanks to all my dear family members and friends.  i am already at my new place, enjoying the borderline surreal scenery around.  it's all working out fine.

last night i went to a birthday party for the young profs group at church.  it was very nice.  they rented out the lower level at Ivy's downtown and Rupert was the DJ. it was so funny.  the music selection was great.  i got to dance a bit which was good since it had been a while. i also got to talk this guy that i see at church all the time but had never really talked to before.  i think it's nice when that happens because now it's easier to relate and greet him at church.  it was his birthday also.

today, i had brunch with Courtney in JP at Miami and then headed for some Dominican cake.  we sat on the grass at Showa and as always had a pretty good time. afterwards, i went to the Dedham mall with Sarah to watch Inception--review to follow--and had dinner at PF Chiangs.  all in all it was a good day spent with great peeps.  i am happy.

i know i [something] him...

when i accommadate his disastrous travel plans so that we can see each other albeit for a couple of hours;  when i choose to forgive his forgetfulness; when i smile when he looks;  when i dream of being by his side and just being; when the two hundred things i don't like about him fade in comprarison to the three i do like; when i wished he loved God as much as he loves his dog; when it hurts because he doesn't love God and it means that even if it could it wouldn't be;  when i feel like i don't love him and yet the mere thought of his  makes me smile;  when i keep silent because there's so much to say and so little to do. 

pumpkin cake a la nut

this is pretty sad.   i spent the whole day today packing my junk away to haul it to the storage facility  i rented.  in the midst of it all i realized that i had a lot of flour left and decided to bake a cake. unfortunately, i didn't have any milk.  in order to make it a bit moist, i decided to use a can of smash pumpkin that i had from ages ago and which never materialized into a pumpkin pie.  i had a bit of soy milk left and i figured that between that and the moisture from the pumpkin it would be good.  i preheated the oven. i got the butter semi-melted; mixed the sugar and flour; added the rest of the stuff; and decided to spice things up with a bit of ground cinnamon and nutmeg.  now, mind you, i am a nutmeg freak. i love nutmeg in my hot drinks (coffee, chai, hot chocolate, ponche, eggnog, etc.).  thus, when it came to the ground nutmeg part i took the bottle and proceeded to put lots of it in my soon-to-be delicious cake.  however, i took a gander at it and realized that the nutmeg was quite red.  then i looked at the bottle and read:  "cayenne pepper!!" which was then followed by a the question, "what the hell am i doing?!" needless to say, i frantically started to scrape the industrial quantity of cayenne pepper i had put in my cake.  i had to throw away about a quarter of the batter.  i put more sugar in case it was needed and more Cinnamon.  it was baked a 350 degrees for an hour and when it came out, the outside looked like a normal-ish bundt cake but the inside was closer to a pumpkin pie consistency.  quite funky yummy if i may add.  you can't really taste the cayenne pepper except for a tiny spicy/hot bit on your palate as an aftertaste. besides that, it's quite edible. when my roommate walked in she immediately asked if she could have a piece because i looked pretty good. i warned her first about my little mishap but she gulp it down nonetheless.  i am going to claim that as a success for now.

divine appointments

this weekend i went to a retreat with the young professionals at my church.  it's not your typical retreat because this group is a bit spiritually immature and our agenda is not as beefy as a regular retreat would be. there's a lot of socializing now in the group and that inevitably takes away from the spiritual part of it which should be the main point but in reality is secondary.  one of our leaders is very bend on community and that kinda drives the whole approach.  i like community but i'm also left wanting a lot more than that.  in any event, God always comes through and blesses us even if we don't even know what we're doing half the time.

at the retreat there was this guy who is friends with one of the members.  this guy was not a christian and if you see him on the street he is as thug-looking as any other cat out there.  he would take a break here and there to go smoke outside and spent most of the time listening to his ipod nano to very, very loud rap music.  the whole nine years (tupac, ludacris, 50, etc., etc.).  he even tried to play the music on the sound dock at the pool! at a spiritual retreat, mind you.  i kept bugging him to take off his earphones so that he could hear what people were saying to him.  the first night i went out for a walk and i think i saw him sitting under a tree.  it was dark so i don't know if it was him, for sure.  the last day i asked him if he had been sitting under a tree outside the first night and he said no, so maybe it was all part of "the plan".  i don't know why but i felt this need to have him integrated in the group.  i really wanted him to not feel left out and/or to feel that he was different from the rest, which i believe that he was not.  however, he was a guest and one with the tendency to be a quiet loner submerged in his music. by the way, he's a rapper wanna-be too, i guess.  i just really, really wanted him to be happy and smile, which he didn't do much. he has this tough exterior and somewhat defiant look but at the same time he comes across as very genuine and kind.  sometimes it seems as if  he's shy but i don't know.

i spent the weekend joking with him so much about his out earphone music that at one point i took his iPod away and gave him mine.  mine is newer so it was a fair trade and at least has some "holy" music.  silly me didn't realized that he had an iPhone also, so it made no difference.  the last day we had a small service at the house as an end to the retreat along with the small congregation that meets there to worship.  God blessed us with an amazing time and the Spirit just filled the place.  he felt uncomfortable and left.  Myra and i kept wanting him to come in so that we could pray with him but he wouldn't.  all of the sudden, this lady says that the Lord wants her to say that:  there is someone here who feels like they should not be here.  one who feels that they are not worthy to be here. that He [God] wants you here as much as anyone else.  that you belong here.  that he wants to know you just as much, etc., etc.  i gave up on the thought of praying for him and felt that God would reel him in in due time.  i went downstairs to get my bags since we were leaving soon and when i went to the foyer to put my bags by the door, what do i find?  i find this the lady, whose name now i now (Evelyn) speaking with him, praying for him and another older woman standing next to him.  he's face was to the door, and his back to me.   she was speaking/praying that God loved him, that He was looking to show him His love, and a number of other things.  this woman was truly anointed.  as i stood there with my hands "impuestas" towards him but not touching him, i just felt drawn to hug him; hug him really hard. for some reason i didn't, i hesitated because i didn't know him; because it would be weird to hug someone from behind when i don't even know them; because he was a strange male and it may be inappropriate;  for a number of silly reasons.  he seemed to have been crying because his hands appeared to be wiping tears away--since he wasn't facing me, i couldn't see.  a couple of minutes later, the anointed lady says, "you need to be hugged." and she hugs him very hard, while saying "this is a hug from God." at that moment i hugged him too.  we both hugged him and he cried.  she was praying for him and saying things that God put in her heart for him.  it was such an amazing moment.

after about 10 of minutes of intense hugging this guy--she did; i was intermittently hugging him and touching his shoulder--she then started a deliverance-ish prayer for God to break down barriers within him.  at that point she started pushing his hands and he moving backwards.  since i was behind him, i also was being pushed back.  there came a point where he couldn't resist anymore and he fell.  he fell right in my arms and i was in this state of shock/awe/pain/fear/joy/discomfort/etc./etc./etc.  here i am, crushed between a sharp, foyer shelf and full grown man who while not being fat is very heavy becuase although lean he's all muscle and that weighs. it was very uncomfortable because i couldn't just let him go; there was no room, and the lady was in his face--and by extension almost mine.  but also it just felt weird to have to have this stranger on me.  he literally was being supported by my body since i couldn't hold him with just my arms.  despite the discomfort i knew that God wanted to touch this guy's heart and mind. so i kept praying along with the two ladies with my hand on his heart and at her request one hand on his stomach.  this went one for what felt like 10-15, or maybe 20 minutes, who knows maybe even more. i don't know.  i was sweaty, ecstatic, pumped, scared; all at the same time.  she finished praying and we took him to a couch in at the entrance of the living room.  there, i said a short prayer to his spirit and left him on the couch.

after i had something to eat and he got up from the couch, we started talking about the whole thing. this other girl Anny was talking with us but she had no idea of what had happened so she was telling him how God could change his life, etc. but although a good message, it was not within the context.  asking him how he felt, he said that he left the room during he service because he was angry. that he took his bag and put it under the car and walked out because he felt that it wasn't for him.  that he didn't belong nor did he want to be there.  but then he came back and stood by the door because... well, he never told me why or i don't remember. i told him that he had to meet God half way.  that God wanted to love him, and that i knew that he wanted to love God back.  but that God was not going to force His way into his life if he didn't want to.  i mentioned that i didn't know him, that i could care less about him but that God had put love in my heart for him.  not because i liked him or because i was attracted to him.  to me he looked like a punk--yes, i called him a punk, just like that, which now i wonder what on earth possessed me to seriously say to someone that they look like a punk--but that God had put this love/burden for him in my heart and that now i understood why i wanted him to put his iPod away and listen; engage with the group; to smile and laugh with us.  he was looking me in the eye and listening, nodding and his eyes were all watery.  then he cried.  this one long, dense tear.  at that point i told him again, that God wanted to love him but that he had to meet him half way. i told him that God would deal with anything he needed to change step by step; that if he needed to quit smoking God would lead him to do so; or quit any other things that weren't right in his life.  the first step was to open his heart to Him.  that would be the first step to start the process. he listened.  i asked him if he had ever accepted Jesus into his heart and if he wanted to do it.  he nodded! he said yes!  and right then and there, at that house's front doorstep or semi-porch, whatever that's called,  and with rain falling on the rose bushes, he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior.  right then and there he became a son of God and a new person.  i told him that and we both smiled.  we stood there for a couple of minutes; silently.  i asked him if he wanted to tell everyone that and announce it to the group and he not yet.  Myra came shortly after and i asked him if i could tell her and he said yes.  i left them talking.   when i came back and Sarah behind me, he asked me with a smile on his face, "did you tell her?" so i did and we all congratulated him.  and i was just in awe God amazing grace and faithfulness.

i am convinced that i went to that retreat so that i could be part of this experience. not to make it happen, of course not, but to be part of it.  to be ministered to by this guy's experience.  to be humbled and to see myself reflected in him.  to see the power of a living God that goes to amazing lengths to let us know that he loves us like no other can.  i am convinced that this is another lesson for me which i have not completely understood and that as i told this guy, will have lots of truth coming out of it for a long time. just as i advised him, i am to mediate on it and allow for God to distill his knowledge, wisdom and grace over and over as i think of it.  seeing a soul come to God that way, it's just a joy that can't be explained.

swe-uh-eet! JP Pond baby... let the picnics begin.

this is a picture a took about 3 years ago of my soon-to-be neighborhood.  i'm moving to the JP/Brookline line area in 2 weeks. exactly--according to google maps--.9 miles from Jamaica Pond.  i'm so grateful to God!  this is awesome. i had decided to move out of my current apartment because i feel the need to stop being complacent and push myself to do what i see as the will of God in my life.  as if  i need yet another thing to be anxious about, i gave my notice and my housemates started searching for a replacement.  the friend i thought i may be moving in with had someone come check out the house and since that person was committed to statying longer than i would, i figured it was the fair thing to do to not have my friend forego the opportunity of a long-term subletter.  then another friend mentioned that her apartment  had an opening in East Boston and by the time i asked her if i could go check it out it was rented.  for a minute there i was beginning to get scared. if september 1st came around and i had no place to go, i'd have to stay with my first friend  for a couple of weeks and then another for the next, and so on and so on.  that's not a horrible scenario but hopping around in the middle of a possible lay-off  is not the best thing.  to make matters a bit more uncomfortable, things are still not settled with that ongoing tension with the group at church and the matter is kinda draining the life out of me.  i no longer know what to do to please this person and feel that the only option is for me to leave.  however, there's pressure for me to stay so i'm torn.  anyway, you get the picture.  it's a bit stressful.  

i decided to pursue the option i mentioned a post ago and went for an interview at this women's university in JP.  i sent my resume and cover letter on tuesday.  they respondend the next day.  i went on an interview on friday.  on monday i sent a thank you email and that i was still interseted. they responded offering me the position. on tuesday i started packing and reserved my storage facility to put my furniture, etc. in. on wednesday i confirmed my move-in date. and today i am all set and ready to go for september 3rd.  they will give me free room and board along with the use of facilities, parking, gym, pool, shuttle to the T, etc. in exchange of planning one activity a month, monitoring the dorm when assigned and hanging out with Japanese colllege girls with whom I can practice my Japanese, and help them with their English + American life. 

if you ask me, I think that's pretty providential.  they didn't even ask me for references.   i'm just really grateful because even if i don't have a job after september 30th i'll have a place to stay and don't have to worry about rent, etc.  just finding a new job which i'm sure won't take too long.  God is just amazing.  i also feel this amazing connection and clear directive about how this is not just a fix for a place to live, but part of a bigger plan for which a hint was given about 2-3 years ago through a sermon by Pastor Samano.  who coincidentally, the day after my interview asked that he wanted to speak with me about the prayer he said for me about 2-3 years ago on this plan i think God is putting into motion for me.  i can't wait to find more pieces to the puzzle! 

i know i'm getting old.  i feel i'm getting old. i see me getting old.  maybe because of that i feel this need to embrace all things 'old'.  maybe that is why there is this unavoidable need to feel ike i'm grounded and settled in things that are reliable and true; things that like moth balls scream old.   but at this age old is such a relative term so i'm not sure what i'm talking about, really.  anyway, one of things that i have been pondering about is the need to not rent an apartment with housemates anymore.  i have been doing it for close to ten years and I can't do it anymore.  i need to have a place that is mine and that i can come to without having to worry about other's privacy and preferences.  i need the freedom to do that.  as i dream of solitude and apartment freedom, i was wondering what things i would possibly need in a place to be happy.  i came to the conclusion that i need 1) a kitchen, and 2) a bathroom.  i don't really care much about a bedroom or a livingroom or anything else, maybe a yard but that's another story.  i would really, really need a kitchen and a nice bathroom. 

kitchens.  kitchens are like the engine of the home.  i remember my house back in dr. the kitchen was always busy and from it came what really connected us a family: food. we shared two and almost three meals a day with everyone so it was around food that we came together the most. Fela, our cook, made the most amazing stuff for us.  even now when i speak with her from time to time i keep telling her that when i go back to visit, she has to make meatballs for me.  her meatballs are the best meatballs my taste buds have ever ran into.  she's this eithty year old now who has a bit of parkinson's and a speech impediment froma minor stroke, but she still claims that she can cook those for me.  she still cooks and does things, not for our home, though.  she does it for herself. anyway, kitchens are great places.  since i love to cook for other people i just find that kitchens can really be a home's hub if employed correctly.  there's something about a group of people around a dinner table share the food and conversation that makes me smile.  if you think of it.  you are using all your senses.  the food's aroma and the juxtaposition of the savory and sweet, the tart and the light.  the sight and colors from vegetables to meats, from wine to water, from napkins, tablecloth or plates. it's such a carnival.  then comes the taste which depending on cooking could definitely be a sublime experience.  the clings of the plates and silverware on the, the glasses of wine touching and the "salud!"s of the day.  your are touch the bread and the rest of whatever you feel like touching if you manners let you.   but most importantly, this modern phenomena of sharing a meal brings great joy and emotional fulfillment, albeit for a short while.  i think that's why i enjoy  my meals with my family more now than when i was a kid.  now i have the luxury of reflecting and appreciating them for what they are in the future, rather than what they were in their present.  anyway, that's why i love kitchens.  maybe i should say dinner tables but then the kithcen is the source of the dinner table.  so i hold my turf and say it's kitchens that i like.  there's something about them... 

now, bathrooms. i looove bathrooms. well, bathtubs to be more precise.  when i lived in japan i loved the fact that they really believe in taking long baths.  everyone takes one, if not every day, at least 4 times a week.  it's an interesting concept for americans becuase people share the same water but it's a lot better than it sounds.  first the guests go in--lucky me for hte most part--then the father, the children and finally the mother.  anyway, i'm getting side tracked.  taking a long bath is so therapeutic.  i haven't done that in a while and it is one the things i am most lucking forward to when i find my little nest. there's something so nice about taking the time to immerse yourself int he intimacy and solitude of a bath.   i miss it. 

i have decided.  if i were to build a house i would focus on three things:  the kitchen, the bathroom and the patio. if those three things are in place, then i'd be happy.  i know it.  as i search for a place to live in the next couple of weeks, i will keep hoping for these things and in time, hopefully soon, be able to have my very own kitchen, bathroom and yard to use and hopefully share with others--the kitchen, i mean.