BTI Whitewater
Harper's Ferry, WV
Pouring Fabbioli Cellars Wines
Saturday, July 24, 2010
My journey started with a homemade meatless egg McMuffin and coffee then once in the car Lady Gaga started my drive in the "Ra Ra" direction. Temperature was set to reach a record high of 102 degrees, not including the humidity!
First stop, the winery to load up my Honda with Fabb-wine. By the time I reached the winery I was still buzzing on caffeine. The ladies packed up my car in minutes, while I stood in hesitation like a kid on their first day of kindergarten as I was about to embark on running my first event on my own! No packed lunch this time, or wearing purple hearts on my shirt (wait, come to think of it, my black tank had hearts on the back? Oh symbolism:)
Back in the car and watched as the winery grew smaller in my rearview mirror. Excitement rose within at the thought of another Fabb-weekend! I had no idea what to expect, maybe I should have asked more questions? Would there be other winery's? Am I going to be stuck outside under a tent in this heat? Being up for adventure, I reveled in not knowing what to expect....
The drive was mesmerizing! Wishing to put my car on "auto-driver," roll the passenger side window down, wrap my fingers over the door, letting my hair blow into a frenzy of tangles and breath in the sights and fresh mountain air. Instead, I tried taking sneak peaks as my car zoomed up, down, and around a windy tree-lined country road.
What was this place going to be like? What are the people like? Will I faint from heat exhaustion outside? Why are there so many commercials on Slacker Radio, click, back to Pandora. Ah yes, time for Guster! Ok, eyes back on the road missy!
As I neared the location, my car wrapped around a high road that overlooked the heavenly sight below of trees, hills, and farmland. The road twisted down like a natural roller coaster to the bottom level as I drove past the farmland I saw from above. Not before long, Gigi, my GPS, said take a left into BTI Whitewater.
Once I pulled up to the parking director, a tall seemingly former football player type named Jim, told me to back into the rock lot beside this "house." He guided me back, I climbed out of my SUV and shook his hand. He said to bring the wine into the house. He hadn't seen Bernard whom I was suppose to report to...doors were locked. Next I hear Jim yell for Bernard that I was here for him.
The house was clearly recently renovated with the smell of new paint. The outdoor patio was incredible with these tall Alice in Wonderland oversize dark wooden chairs and tables. Double glass doors led into the wine tasting bar. I pushed a snaking water hose out of my path as opened the doors and stepped inside, my jaw dropped...I sure as hell wasn't in Kansas anymore or DC, or, where was I?
A tall granite bar was along the far left wall, on the right two long black leather couches faced each other, a deer head who we will call "Buck" stood proud on the far right wall between the wall of windows and above a flat screen TV. In the far left corner were more tall wooden chairs and tables. There was an area to the right and behind the bar with four steps leading to a smaller room with a foosball table and restrooms.
Bernard was right there helping me move in box after box of wine behind the bar. He was a bartenders dream! I liked him instantly, pleasure to work with, fun and assisted me with anything I needed. The first day somewhere new always feels a little odd, but there I felt so comfortable.
JR Heffner, one of the heads of the company, was also very accommodating. Later I met his mother, Faye, who fell in love with our Chambourcin wine! Throughout the day, I met a few other friends of the owners, family and employees who popped in to taste our wine.
Tonight, the winery was having their annual summer party, so I planned to leave as soon as I could. We ended up getting so much business right at 7:00 p.m. when we were set to close. Bernard and I stayed, poured, chatted and sold. Since I was working there the following day, I could leave the wine behind. Once our customers were happy, I flew out the door and back onto the county roads to Fabbioli Cellars.
Once I arrived, hugs all around, and Melanie poured me a glass of Cab-Franc Reserve. The food was all homemade and delicious! I caught up with Melanie, Suzanne and met a few Fabb-wine-loving people. The night air was perfect as the humidity lowered to a tolerable breathing level.
We heard word of fireworks and went outside to find a log to sit on as we eagerly waited for the display. Sadly, this was the second 4th of July I didn't celebrate in a row, which meant no fireworks, so as you can imagine I kept my childlike excitement inside as I starred up at the starry night sky. Doug Fabbioli's kids set the fireworks off, and I was thoroughly impressed with the show!
By the time everyone was giving their goodbyes, I jumped in to help clean up and steady this wine induced mind before heading back on the road to DC, so I could sleep, wake up and start Sunday all over again at BTI......
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
More Than Just A "Plain" View...
Saturday, May 22, 2010
The Plains, VA
Wine and Arts Festival
Pouring Wine for Fabbioli Cellars
The drive to The Plains, VA was half freeway and half driving through Virginia's lush green countryside. The greenery was a warm welcome away from the busy city. I could not wait to step out of my car and breath in the country air, to take the fresh clean air deep down into my lungs that are sadly used to (but not enjoying) the city exhaust from the cars and buses I walk passed each day... Stepping onto the grass I, instead, breathed in the humid air that felt like a damp blanket around my lungs...rain was on its way...
Rain boots. Why didn't I order that pair a month ago? I needed them today, and the next day....
The festival was nestled on a flat grassy area with soft rolling hills that seemed to hug the angelic horizon, and dip down around the white tented grounds. Deep green trees filled every visible inch of the hills. While the hills I grew up with in California were dotted with trees the natural beauty reminded me of the small town I grew up in...
Doug C. and I arrive at the same time and track down our table. Paula is busy setting up and we follow suit. Another fellow Fabb-friend, Stacey, came to help us out. The wine tasters trickled in around 11:00 a.m. as we took our places. I settled in at the far right corner, Raspberry Merlot on ice, opened and ready to WOW the taste buds of Virginia wine lovers. The pace was even and balanced with couples and groups waiting patiently for their turn to taste. Everyone was in good spirits. Some began to buy their bottles and find a (dry) spot on the grass around the tents. Smart people brought plastic laying it down on the ground and their chairs on top.
Clouds continued to roll in dark and heavy, looming over as if laughing at all the happy wine tasters until they spilled their heavy rains around noon and continued to pour for a few hours. Once the rains started everyone those on the grass made a mad dash under the tents. Before we knew it we had two-three people deep, wine glasses ready sneaking between shoulders and arms as I rattled off about our winery and what they were about to taste...wondering, do they care? Will they remember? I'm sure they're like, "Blonde lady, just say the name of the wine and pour please, thank you!" Actually, there were times I had about 15+ wrapped around my corner and they listened intently and I discussed each wine, and the blends, history and where to find our winery.
As the rain continued, the grass became more like a swamp. I wore my favorite black sparkly Converse, which changed to a funky shade of murky brown. Stacey had to head out early so it was just Paula, Doug C. and I braving the sea of wine lovers. Literally, everyone was soaked. I will never understand why so many women wear white to a wine tasting? One girl did get a wine drop on her arm and her friend was ready with a traveling Tide pen, I just about fell over smiling to see her jump to her friend's white sweater rescue!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The Plains, VA
Wine and Arts Festival
Sunday. Back in the car bright and early for another day of wine tasting fun. Paula was busy setting up and I jumped in to help get the tables looking fabulous. Sundays are usually the quieter of the two business weekend days.
These days it is easier to forget who introduced me to Fabbioli's last year, since he well, for lack of better explanation broke my heart. I took it upon myself to look for a part time job and emailed the winery asking if they needed a demo girl. Fabbioli Cellars needed more than a demo girl, they needed a DC wine representative. Broken heart aside, time heals, his loss is my gain. Thanks to him introducing me to the wine, I am part of the Virginia wine industry and have met wonderful people and friends both at the winery and along my wine sales path. Paula is one of these friends. We have more fun working behind the table and she has taught me so much about wine!
Rain. Again and felt more than yesterday. Personally, rain has never stopped me from going to a concert or outdoor event. Doug Fabbioli, winemaker and owner of Fabbioli's, came to help Paula and I behind the table. At one point he broke a box down for me to stand on since the swamp was quickly turning into quick sand. The cardboard helped at first until the ground began pulling it further under and me with it....
After the festival the three of us caravanned to an Italian restaurant in Haymarket. For such a small town we were shocked at the wide range of Italian fare on the menu taking us longer than normal to decide on what to eat. The food was impressive and well needed after two days of working hard.
The Plains, VA
Wine and Arts Festival
Pouring Wine for Fabbioli Cellars
The drive to The Plains, VA was half freeway and half driving through Virginia's lush green countryside. The greenery was a warm welcome away from the busy city. I could not wait to step out of my car and breath in the country air, to take the fresh clean air deep down into my lungs that are sadly used to (but not enjoying) the city exhaust from the cars and buses I walk passed each day... Stepping onto the grass I, instead, breathed in the humid air that felt like a damp blanket around my lungs...rain was on its way...
Rain boots. Why didn't I order that pair a month ago? I needed them today, and the next day....
The festival was nestled on a flat grassy area with soft rolling hills that seemed to hug the angelic horizon, and dip down around the white tented grounds. Deep green trees filled every visible inch of the hills. While the hills I grew up with in California were dotted with trees the natural beauty reminded me of the small town I grew up in...
Doug C. and I arrive at the same time and track down our table. Paula is busy setting up and we follow suit. Another fellow Fabb-friend, Stacey, came to help us out. The wine tasters trickled in around 11:00 a.m. as we took our places. I settled in at the far right corner, Raspberry Merlot on ice, opened and ready to WOW the taste buds of Virginia wine lovers. The pace was even and balanced with couples and groups waiting patiently for their turn to taste. Everyone was in good spirits. Some began to buy their bottles and find a (dry) spot on the grass around the tents. Smart people brought plastic laying it down on the ground and their chairs on top.
Clouds continued to roll in dark and heavy, looming over as if laughing at all the happy wine tasters until they spilled their heavy rains around noon and continued to pour for a few hours. Once the rains started everyone those on the grass made a mad dash under the tents. Before we knew it we had two-three people deep, wine glasses ready sneaking between shoulders and arms as I rattled off about our winery and what they were about to taste...wondering, do they care? Will they remember? I'm sure they're like, "Blonde lady, just say the name of the wine and pour please, thank you!" Actually, there were times I had about 15+ wrapped around my corner and they listened intently and I discussed each wine, and the blends, history and where to find our winery.
As the rain continued, the grass became more like a swamp. I wore my favorite black sparkly Converse, which changed to a funky shade of murky brown. Stacey had to head out early so it was just Paula, Doug C. and I braving the sea of wine lovers. Literally, everyone was soaked. I will never understand why so many women wear white to a wine tasting? One girl did get a wine drop on her arm and her friend was ready with a traveling Tide pen, I just about fell over smiling to see her jump to her friend's white sweater rescue!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The Plains, VA
Wine and Arts Festival
Sunday. Back in the car bright and early for another day of wine tasting fun. Paula was busy setting up and I jumped in to help get the tables looking fabulous. Sundays are usually the quieter of the two business weekend days.
These days it is easier to forget who introduced me to Fabbioli's last year, since he well, for lack of better explanation broke my heart. I took it upon myself to look for a part time job and emailed the winery asking if they needed a demo girl. Fabbioli Cellars needed more than a demo girl, they needed a DC wine representative. Broken heart aside, time heals, his loss is my gain. Thanks to him introducing me to the wine, I am part of the Virginia wine industry and have met wonderful people and friends both at the winery and along my wine sales path. Paula is one of these friends. We have more fun working behind the table and she has taught me so much about wine!
Rain. Again and felt more than yesterday. Personally, rain has never stopped me from going to a concert or outdoor event. Doug Fabbioli, winemaker and owner of Fabbioli's, came to help Paula and I behind the table. At one point he broke a box down for me to stand on since the swamp was quickly turning into quick sand. The cardboard helped at first until the ground began pulling it further under and me with it....
After the festival the three of us caravanned to an Italian restaurant in Haymarket. For such a small town we were shocked at the wide range of Italian fare on the menu taking us longer than normal to decide on what to eat. The food was impressive and well needed after two days of working hard.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Poste Delivers
Springtime in DC is a season I look forward to each year. As the Japanese Sakura trees (cherry blossoms) create an almost fairytalesque feel throughout the city with their fluffy pinkish-white blossoms. Now my third spring here in DC, and I find myself layering up and shuffling an umbrella from hand to hand while dodging raindrops along DC's red brick sidewalks. I never mind a few drops especially when it washes away that blasted pollen - it's the cold that is annoying.
Monday, May 17 was yet another cold and rainy day in our nation's capital. That morning, I slipped on my red heels, Banana Republic red cardigan sweater, dark gray slacks and black jacket and stepped out into the chilled air. Why I attempted to style my hair I will never know since the weather had its own style ideas called "How frizzy can we get Lisa's hair? Let's call it the Chiapet look. Fuzzy, funky, fresh."
My day consisted of waiting for bus after bus be it getting to work to running errands during lunch and lastly...waiting more than 25 minutes for the Circulator! Under my nifty blue and gray Georgetown University umbrella, I stood at the bus stop shivering and questioning myself - why was I making an effort in this dreary weather? I was on a mission. Oh yes, when I am on a mission there is no stopping me.
My part-time gig is being a DC Wine Rep for Fabbioli Cellars out of Leesburg, VA. My mission, and third attempt to meet with a manager at Poste Moderne Brasserie and find out if they'd like to reorder Fabbioli's wine. This past January I met with one manager who said a table had ordered our Raspberry-Merlot the night before. In February the restaurant went through reno and in April when I visited they were swamped! They say third time is a charm - so true about that cliche!
By the time 20 minutes rolled around at the bus stop, I considered clicking my ruby red heels three times in case they could whisk me back home. I turned left to cross the street and catch my own bus back home...when the Circulator literally rounded the corner in front of me! I took this as a sign, I had waited long enough...
Once at K Street and 17th, like Carrie Bradshaw in her heels slapping the New York City streets, with umbrella overhead, I headed toward Farragut North Metro Station and got off at Gallery Place Metro in Chinatown. Poste was across the street. I had one of those "Gawd, I love the city!" moments and happier to not have to worry about my car. Poste is connected to Hotel Monaco and housed in the original 1841 General Post Office.
Stepping into the hotel with its retro green and red colors, high ceilings, glowing green chandeliers, puzzle piece mirror on the wall...I felt like I stepped back in time - while it embodies both a class and elegance, I loved the 60s vibe. They just needed a red shag carpet and a picture of John Lennon on the wall.
Poste was straight ahead through the swinging door. I introduced myself to the hostess who called, Adam, the manager on duty. I waited patiently taking in the beautiful restaurant. Adam walked out from the back wearing a dark sharp thin pin stripe suit and friendly demeanor. We shook hands as I introduced myself and asked if they have any Fabbioli wine in stock. While they were currently out - he knew the two wines they carried and said they were interested in local wine and namely, Fabbioli Cellars. We chatted a bit about wine and he gave me a quick tour of the restaurant, showing me the courtyard bar and briefly explained how they have a garden where they grow their own herbs.
The mere fact they grow their own herbs tells me they care about quality. This also reminds me of Mudd's Restaurant in San Ramon, California that had their own garden. As a kid, I spent my summers at Mudd's Summer Nature Day Camp, learning about edible plants all thanks to Mudd's garden. I will never forget sneaking off with friends to the garden to steal raspberries or making fresh brewed mint tea.
The bartenders were friendly and talked me into these truffle oil fries with parmesan cheese. Who knew wine and fries would go together? I ended up striking up a conversation with a real estate gentleman from Boston. He informed me that Poste uses their fresh herbs to make homemade infused vodka's. Creativity. I love it!
In between introductions and the tour Adam talked me into having a drink. Since it was still early I figured I could enjoy a glass of wine and make a few other sales calls before hoping back on the metro. The rainy weather kept business slow that night as I found one spot left at the bar. I scooted onto the rather comfty bar stool and ordered a French Cab-Franc. Next thing I know, Adam comes around behind me at the bar with four large wine glasses and two bottles of wine. We tasted two other Cab-Franc's both of which I think were from California? A 2006 Palazzo Napa Valley and a 2007 Treffino (something tells me I didn't spell them correctly). The 2006 had more spice tones and less fruit, while the 2007 was well-balanced both in tannins and fruit (the fave). By this time, I was feeling rather good and enjoying this surprise wine tasting on the bar. He poured me a glass of the Treffino and went back to work. I had never been treated with genuine hospitality by a restaurant manager. Poste is class all the way around. Looking forward to warmer weather when I can bring friends to the courtyard bar!
Monday, May 17 was yet another cold and rainy day in our nation's capital. That morning, I slipped on my red heels, Banana Republic red cardigan sweater, dark gray slacks and black jacket and stepped out into the chilled air. Why I attempted to style my hair I will never know since the weather had its own style ideas called "How frizzy can we get Lisa's hair? Let's call it the Chiapet look. Fuzzy, funky, fresh."
My day consisted of waiting for bus after bus be it getting to work to running errands during lunch and lastly...waiting more than 25 minutes for the Circulator! Under my nifty blue and gray Georgetown University umbrella, I stood at the bus stop shivering and questioning myself - why was I making an effort in this dreary weather? I was on a mission. Oh yes, when I am on a mission there is no stopping me.
My part-time gig is being a DC Wine Rep for Fabbioli Cellars out of Leesburg, VA. My mission, and third attempt to meet with a manager at Poste Moderne Brasserie and find out if they'd like to reorder Fabbioli's wine. This past January I met with one manager who said a table had ordered our Raspberry-Merlot the night before. In February the restaurant went through reno and in April when I visited they were swamped! They say third time is a charm - so true about that cliche!
By the time 20 minutes rolled around at the bus stop, I considered clicking my ruby red heels three times in case they could whisk me back home. I turned left to cross the street and catch my own bus back home...when the Circulator literally rounded the corner in front of me! I took this as a sign, I had waited long enough...
Once at K Street and 17th, like Carrie Bradshaw in her heels slapping the New York City streets, with umbrella overhead, I headed toward Farragut North Metro Station and got off at Gallery Place Metro in Chinatown. Poste was across the street. I had one of those "Gawd, I love the city!" moments and happier to not have to worry about my car. Poste is connected to Hotel Monaco and housed in the original 1841 General Post Office.
Stepping into the hotel with its retro green and red colors, high ceilings, glowing green chandeliers, puzzle piece mirror on the wall...I felt like I stepped back in time - while it embodies both a class and elegance, I loved the 60s vibe. They just needed a red shag carpet and a picture of John Lennon on the wall.
Poste was straight ahead through the swinging door. I introduced myself to the hostess who called, Adam, the manager on duty. I waited patiently taking in the beautiful restaurant. Adam walked out from the back wearing a dark sharp thin pin stripe suit and friendly demeanor. We shook hands as I introduced myself and asked if they have any Fabbioli wine in stock. While they were currently out - he knew the two wines they carried and said they were interested in local wine and namely, Fabbioli Cellars. We chatted a bit about wine and he gave me a quick tour of the restaurant, showing me the courtyard bar and briefly explained how they have a garden where they grow their own herbs.
The mere fact they grow their own herbs tells me they care about quality. This also reminds me of Mudd's Restaurant in San Ramon, California that had their own garden. As a kid, I spent my summers at Mudd's Summer Nature Day Camp, learning about edible plants all thanks to Mudd's garden. I will never forget sneaking off with friends to the garden to steal raspberries or making fresh brewed mint tea.
The bartenders were friendly and talked me into these truffle oil fries with parmesan cheese. Who knew wine and fries would go together? I ended up striking up a conversation with a real estate gentleman from Boston. He informed me that Poste uses their fresh herbs to make homemade infused vodka's. Creativity. I love it!
In between introductions and the tour Adam talked me into having a drink. Since it was still early I figured I could enjoy a glass of wine and make a few other sales calls before hoping back on the metro. The rainy weather kept business slow that night as I found one spot left at the bar. I scooted onto the rather comfty bar stool and ordered a French Cab-Franc. Next thing I know, Adam comes around behind me at the bar with four large wine glasses and two bottles of wine. We tasted two other Cab-Franc's both of which I think were from California? A 2006 Palazzo Napa Valley and a 2007 Treffino (something tells me I didn't spell them correctly). The 2006 had more spice tones and less fruit, while the 2007 was well-balanced both in tannins and fruit (the fave). By this time, I was feeling rather good and enjoying this surprise wine tasting on the bar. He poured me a glass of the Treffino and went back to work. I had never been treated with genuine hospitality by a restaurant manager. Poste is class all the way around. Looking forward to warmer weather when I can bring friends to the courtyard bar!
Monday, November 2, 2009
The Smell Factor
The nose knows. Smells are far more important than one can imagine. A single smell can conjure up long-forgotten memories or emotions by placing you back in time for that brief moment to the scene where you first encountered that smell. The smell of your mother’s secret family Italian tomato pasta sauce cooking downstairs below as the warm aromas reach your room, wafting into your nose as you breathe in softly awaking you with a smile. Pasta dinner is in the near future. Or a time when a cologne passes your nose as you walk along the sidewalk reminding you of a past love. Suddenly, the smell passes your nose, you breathe in as your eyes close for a split second as his face appears before you. The smell leaves your nose, while the vision stays perfectly clear each time you close your eyes for the next few moments. You feel a tug at your heartstrings...
Nearly all the flavor of food derives from its aroma. When we have a cold and our noses are stuffed, the flavor of food becomes not only odorless, but tasteless. Our taste buds sense sweet, salty, sour, and bitter, yet our sense of smell takes in the aromas as our brain registers them assisting our taste buds. Supposedly, the average human nose recognizes as many as 10,000 separate odors.
Animals depend on their sense of smell to survive using it to seek out food and to find a mate. The basics in life: food and love. It doesn’t get much better than that, righ? Animals and insects have pheromones, which are chemicals produced by an organism signaling them to behave a particular way during mating season. These chemicals can be the whiff of an airborne chemical from a female mouse spurring a male to mate. Human mothers can recognize their babies by smell, and newborns recognize their mothers in the same way. Pretty amazing.
Speculation says humans, much like that of other animals, use their sense of smell for social and sexual information. Research continues to see if humans hold these receptors. Humans are tougher than insects and rodents to decipher due to our ornery and independent nature. We are the toughest to work with since the meanings for our actions are never clear. Humans have so much in their everyday life that affects their behavior. Factors include our environment and upbringing.
Smells are a vital aspects in our lives. Smells not only have personal connotation but they can protect us if we smell a gas leak or smoke. We use deodorant for both health and odor suppressing reasons. While we also use cologne and perfume to create our own signature smell each person has their own particular and unique scent. These scents can either make you more attracted to someone or will have you building an invisible fence so you do not have to get too close. There is something about your man’s smell how the wiff of it can drive you crazy, make your heart skin-a-beat even if he is not in the room, maybe you have a hoodie of his you borrowed, his smell all over the fabric making it seem as though he is in the room with you.
Never take smells for granted.
Nearly all the flavor of food derives from its aroma. When we have a cold and our noses are stuffed, the flavor of food becomes not only odorless, but tasteless. Our taste buds sense sweet, salty, sour, and bitter, yet our sense of smell takes in the aromas as our brain registers them assisting our taste buds. Supposedly, the average human nose recognizes as many as 10,000 separate odors.
Animals depend on their sense of smell to survive using it to seek out food and to find a mate. The basics in life: food and love. It doesn’t get much better than that, righ? Animals and insects have pheromones, which are chemicals produced by an organism signaling them to behave a particular way during mating season. These chemicals can be the whiff of an airborne chemical from a female mouse spurring a male to mate. Human mothers can recognize their babies by smell, and newborns recognize their mothers in the same way. Pretty amazing.
Speculation says humans, much like that of other animals, use their sense of smell for social and sexual information. Research continues to see if humans hold these receptors. Humans are tougher than insects and rodents to decipher due to our ornery and independent nature. We are the toughest to work with since the meanings for our actions are never clear. Humans have so much in their everyday life that affects their behavior. Factors include our environment and upbringing.
Smells are a vital aspects in our lives. Smells not only have personal connotation but they can protect us if we smell a gas leak or smoke. We use deodorant for both health and odor suppressing reasons. While we also use cologne and perfume to create our own signature smell each person has their own particular and unique scent. These scents can either make you more attracted to someone or will have you building an invisible fence so you do not have to get too close. There is something about your man’s smell how the wiff of it can drive you crazy, make your heart skin-a-beat even if he is not in the room, maybe you have a hoodie of his you borrowed, his smell all over the fabric making it seem as though he is in the room with you.
Never take smells for granted.
Friday, September 25, 2009
29
29. Just saying the number aloud sounds like a foreign language, something I dreamt about and woke up in a cold sweat. Twenty-nine. Okay, so it’s not that bad. The worst of it is how well it rolls off your tongue like chocolate pudding, all smooth and cold. Bittersweet.
I remember being 9 years old on my birthday turning 10. I was at my best friend Lorien’s house in San Jose, CA. In between playing in the pool and watching movies, we stood giggling in her kitchen watching her microwave clock as it struck 5:02 p.m. I was 10 years old. Double digits. Once the green 02 showed brightly on the microwave screen for a split second I remember seriousness set in…was I no longer a kid? Am I supposed to act differently? Can I still crawl all over the jungle gym and swing so high I nearly flip over the swing set? Can I still play with dolls?
What does this whole age thing mean anyway? Other than the fact that humankind felt it important to measure each second, each minute and year that we thrive on this planet. The irony of the whole thing is though I may be 29 years of age, I still feel 25 or 21…maybe wiser and mentally more mature. But inside and even out I feel no older than 23.
10 years ago I swore to myself I would be a published author by age 25. Though I had the history of my school published at age 17, which turned out to be an 83-page booklet, somehow it wasn’t the same as a professionally bound book. The smell. My name. Sold at your nearest Borders, Books and Music. Next thing I know 27 arrives with no published novel to my name. I pushed the deadline to 30, and now 30 is 20 days away. Life happens. Now I need to look life in the eye and make it happen. No more wishy-washy “someday….” Today.
10 years ago I figured myself to be good and married, well traveled, with an adorable teething youngster on my hip. Instead, more or less, newly single and both emotionally and mentally in the best place I have been in years – maybe ever. Pinching myself that I live in Washington DC, with a great job, surrounded by amazing people. As I continue to meet wonderful people, while continuing to also reunite with people from my past who remind me just how special of a place California, my home state, truly is and more importantly the friends I left behind when I began this east coast adventure. Life is funny. I have learned to roll with the pain, since from pain comes bliss. The yin and the yang – balance is a daily goal. Life without balance is like a sky with no stars. Dark. Dreary.
10 years ago I studied abroad to Florence, Italy where I had the time of my life. I went to Europe with no expectations just the pure excitement to see something up close with my eyes, to touch it with my bare hands instead of seeing a two-inch-by-two-inch color photo in a book and dreaming of being there. Italy changed my life. I finally had a chance to be on my own – make my own decisions. I received more of an education about life and myself than I ever could have learned sitting in a classroom at a college in the states. Oh to be 19 again and dancing my heart out at Andromeda! l'Italia per sempre!
The past six months have felt like I am back at the drawing board, but this time I have a clear picture in my mind of what I want to paint. I am the artist of my life. No more testing the colors and swooshing lines across the canvas. My 20s were a blur of colors, some bright and some dark like a dance of colors with no real shape or meaning. Though I enter my 30s a single woman, life is taking such beautiful shape and I am excited to see where this picturesque path takes me…
20 days before I turn 30 there is a full moon. Venus, the romance planet in our solar system is beside this glorious full moon…a sign? I sure like to think so.
I embrace my 30s with more passion and clarity than I ever did when I was in my 20s…
I remember being 9 years old on my birthday turning 10. I was at my best friend Lorien’s house in San Jose, CA. In between playing in the pool and watching movies, we stood giggling in her kitchen watching her microwave clock as it struck 5:02 p.m. I was 10 years old. Double digits. Once the green 02 showed brightly on the microwave screen for a split second I remember seriousness set in…was I no longer a kid? Am I supposed to act differently? Can I still crawl all over the jungle gym and swing so high I nearly flip over the swing set? Can I still play with dolls?
What does this whole age thing mean anyway? Other than the fact that humankind felt it important to measure each second, each minute and year that we thrive on this planet. The irony of the whole thing is though I may be 29 years of age, I still feel 25 or 21…maybe wiser and mentally more mature. But inside and even out I feel no older than 23.
10 years ago I swore to myself I would be a published author by age 25. Though I had the history of my school published at age 17, which turned out to be an 83-page booklet, somehow it wasn’t the same as a professionally bound book. The smell. My name. Sold at your nearest Borders, Books and Music. Next thing I know 27 arrives with no published novel to my name. I pushed the deadline to 30, and now 30 is 20 days away. Life happens. Now I need to look life in the eye and make it happen. No more wishy-washy “someday….” Today.
10 years ago I figured myself to be good and married, well traveled, with an adorable teething youngster on my hip. Instead, more or less, newly single and both emotionally and mentally in the best place I have been in years – maybe ever. Pinching myself that I live in Washington DC, with a great job, surrounded by amazing people. As I continue to meet wonderful people, while continuing to also reunite with people from my past who remind me just how special of a place California, my home state, truly is and more importantly the friends I left behind when I began this east coast adventure. Life is funny. I have learned to roll with the pain, since from pain comes bliss. The yin and the yang – balance is a daily goal. Life without balance is like a sky with no stars. Dark. Dreary.
10 years ago I studied abroad to Florence, Italy where I had the time of my life. I went to Europe with no expectations just the pure excitement to see something up close with my eyes, to touch it with my bare hands instead of seeing a two-inch-by-two-inch color photo in a book and dreaming of being there. Italy changed my life. I finally had a chance to be on my own – make my own decisions. I received more of an education about life and myself than I ever could have learned sitting in a classroom at a college in the states. Oh to be 19 again and dancing my heart out at Andromeda! l'Italia per sempre!
The past six months have felt like I am back at the drawing board, but this time I have a clear picture in my mind of what I want to paint. I am the artist of my life. No more testing the colors and swooshing lines across the canvas. My 20s were a blur of colors, some bright and some dark like a dance of colors with no real shape or meaning. Though I enter my 30s a single woman, life is taking such beautiful shape and I am excited to see where this picturesque path takes me…
20 days before I turn 30 there is a full moon. Venus, the romance planet in our solar system is beside this glorious full moon…a sign? I sure like to think so.
I embrace my 30s with more passion and clarity than I ever did when I was in my 20s…
Written: 8-6-2009
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