Working Lunches

Yesterday for a working lunch, we went to Olea Mediterranean Taverna. The working part was - meh. The food was tasty. Although we waited a while for our food, it was worth it.

I had the Olea Chicken Club Sandwich - which consisted of chicken breast, bacon, some type of herb-y yogurt, endives, a tomato spread, on brioche with salad and "patatas bravas." I love patatas bravas!

If anything I would've changed the bread, because I think a club benefits of a bread with substance - but otherwise it was quite delicious. To think I've worked around that area for two years and I've never been!

Here's a picture I took at the Bodega, for my kitty-loving friends:

Aside from this, not much of excitement happened. I went back home, and relaxed on my couch. All is good.

Greek Night

Miss and I went to the Upper West Side for some back to school shopping and for some Greek food. Not the first time I went to Telio's, but the first time I tried their Gyro Plate. We're talking simply minced lamb with greek salad and fries, with an extra side of tzatziki sauce.

Holy Crap, that was some really good lamb! On the way to Mi Cariño's house I passed by Zabar's to get some Knishes as a surprise, but all night long I thought of that lamb. The feta was perfect too - the right kind of tart and crumbly. It made my tummy very happy, and if it weren't so inconvenient to get up there from my house, I would most definitely stop by more often.

The Book of Mormon

Been to two shows in a week span - but the first one is barely worth a sentence, much less a post, so I'll group it in with this one. My girls and I went to see "Death Takes a Holiday," an off-Broadway new musical that really, was interesting to watch but that I would not pay full price for. It just kept making me want to see "Meet Joe Black" so that I could look at pretty, pretty Brad Pitt eat peanut butter and say "yes," in that sibilant way of his while looking quizzically around. Netflix does not offer it on Watch Instant. Whatev's. The most memorable part of the musical actually was the guy sitting next to me, that during the second act kept banging himself against his chair, making my chair vibrate uncomfortably. Rude.

In any case this past Tuesday the little Boo felt lucky and went to try once again for Lottery Tickets to The Book of Mormon. I expressed that I would gladly make myself available to attend with her, but that I couldn't make it to the Lottery itself. (Tuesday the Lottery is done earlier in the day.) Just when it was almost quittin' time at work and I was thinking "I wonder how's it going?" I get a text from the Little Boo that says "I won!"

According to my co-worker Gaspy at that moment I did the girliest thing he's ever seen me do, since I just jumped up and down in place while squealing something along the lines of "OMG I'm going, I'm going!" I walked around the office and shared my joy with the rest of my co-workers, some of whom claimed to hate me on the spot because they also wish to see The Book of Mormon but I couldn't let the haterade hold me back. Later, after a quick Pax salad dinner for me, the little Boo and I made our way to the Eugene O'Neill Theater -which if I'm not mistaken also held "Spring Awakening" so I was already feeling happy about the whole deal - and then we realized we were exactly in the center of the first row. Best lottery tickets ever!! We were right behind the orchestra director!

When I got up to put on my jacket I spotted Donald Trump in the audience. It made me wonder who else was in the Theater but thoughts of anyone else went away quickly because the show grabs you from moment one. I literally laughed all the way through, even during the serious, sad-like parts, I was smiling. The secret between this show and say something like Walmart-opia, is that the show was funny, yes, but the music.... the music makes all the difference.

The first number, "Hello," is a layered piece that requires actors to come in at precisely the right time to create the right effect. I love those puppies because everyone has to be on their game to make those work. Plus it was catchy. From then on, I liked all songs but "Hasa Diga Ebowai" and "Turn it Off" are incredibly catchy, full of fun good melody and just laugh out loud lyrics that still make you want to sway to the music. Specially Turn it Off.

Very few shows have a second act that is as strong as the first act, and yes, the second act of The Book of Mormon drags a tiny bit at its beginning, mostly because that's when the deep serious stuff happens, but it picks up quickly with songs like "Man Up" and "I believe," which was the song chosen to be performed at this year's Tony Awards, so I was familiar with it. I loved I believe, and it was the song I was singing along when I left the theater after the show, even though the closing number "Tomorrow is a Latter Day" was just as good.

In conclusion I'll say that I expected the show to be good and it did not disappoint; the writing was strong, the music was strong, and most importantly: although the show purportedly is about making fun of a very specifically American religion, it mocks respectfully, carrying a strong message at the end. I won't spell that out here, because I don't want to ruin it for anyone but let's just say that it was enough to appease my mostly Christian sensitivities, while making me laugh (sometimes at myself.)

It's the end of the world as we know it

Hurricane Irene was on its way to New York and I think we were as prepared as we could be. Food was purchased, water was stored, important documents were set apart, and my mom and my abuela were here at home and ready to hunker down.

It's been a while since I've been in a Hurricane. When I was little it was all about finding a house with a cement ceiling, since I grew up in a home with a Zinc roof. (Y'all know what Zinc is, right? Picture a house with a tin roof.) Mami, my siblings and I would go to Orquidea's house in the corner, with the rest of the Zinc roof neighborhood, my dad would often (although I'm sure not all the time) would stay behind to "take care" of the house. I'm not sure what he did in there, if he ever was afraid of our huge 3 story high Almond tree falling on top of him or what. Of course I'm operating from memory which I'll admit is spotty, after all, as a child you think one thing is happening while very well may be that something else is going on. But this is what I remember.

Hurricane Irene was thankfully downgraded to a Tropical Storm while on its way to New York City. I mean, I'm sorry for Jersey, where it seems it hit hard, and even more so for North Carolina and Virginia where it created a lot more damage, even death, but I'm glad that as of right now all of mine are doing well, and hopefully they'll continue to do well.

But here's something that happened last night when I realized that though a Hurricane Pro this is the first time I was "through one" as an adult. (Or rather prepared for one.) And after the apartment was as secure as it could be and I had reached all my loved ones although I really doubted that I would need it, I decided to pack a "go bag" because I do believe in the Boy Scout's Motto (Be Prepared.) I would much rather, every time, be too prepared than not prepared enough. So aside from the government recommended items, I had to look hard at what I wanted to keep, what I wouldn't want to lose. An entire apartment reduced to a manageable bag. I ended up choosing the last picture of my nuclear family together in 1995 (one I haven't scanned and saved in a "cloud"), two pieces of paper that state that I have earned a Bachelor of Arts degree and a Master of Fine Arts degree, my passport, another piece of paper that states that I am an American Citizen, a notebook with all of my poetry (yes, I know I have it backed up in about a gazillion places but I couldn't bare to leave it behind) and a notebook my Cariño gave me in February where we've both been writing.

Not much for 30 years of life, is it? Like, what's important? What's irreplaceable? I could argue that the Schools will have records that pertain to 10 years of my life, but I'd rather not leave that up to them, and really, what am I if not my accomplishments? I've been careful with backing up my poetry, but that notebook was a gift from Elba, and when I received that I felt validated as a writer for the first time. I've also scanned a lot of my old family photos, but not that one, so that picture I understood. Out of all the mementos I have littering my room, that notebook is my most prized right now - but what about the boxes full of paper that remind me that I am a loved human being, that I've had a good, fun life? But the truth is that when I looked around, I wanted to make sure that I'd have the piece that would be the background to what I expect and hope will be a very long happy life with Mi Cariño. And so, it's not much for 30 years of life, but I'm glad of it. And happy about every bit.

And happy to have been prepared for the worst, and that only the best occurred. Guess we'll have to wait around for the world to end another day.

Friends With Benefits

This is just to say: Mila Kunis is HOT and I'll watch anything she's in a gazillion times, just because she's in it. She reminds me of Angie (Jolie, of course.) [And yes, I do know she played a younger Angie in "Gia."]

I watched Friends with Benefits this week. I needed to take some time to not think and see something that would hopefully make me laugh and this almost fit the bill. I liked that this movie made fun of itself, I liked that Mila's character says "Fuck you, Katherine Heigl!" and I liked that she's with as little clothes as possible often, but most of all, I liked Mila. Justin Timberlake was okay. I liked Mila, because she acts effortlessly, and no, that's not just my lust talking. It's easy to get lost in her world and feel her pain, and believe that she's emotionally unavailable. The movie of course, tries to go on the idea that it's impossible for men and women to have sex without feelings being involved. It also, funnily enough tried to for a moment to say that it was women's fault - that men don't have feelings when it comes to sex (exhibit A - horny gay friend that claims that men and men can have sex all the time without feelings.)

I definitely believe that if you're having sex right, (i.e. the stuff is good) it's impossible to not have your feelings involved. In any case, the "we don't like each other until we start having sex and then we realize we can't live without each other" is my favorite storyline and I'll watch and read that in any shape or form. The movie did not disappoint in providing fluff and laughs and cute sights. It's not life changing, but it made my life good for an hour and a half, and for that, I recommend it.

The Windy City

Had a quicky trip to Chicago thanks to work. Didn't really had time to sightsee much since I wasn't feeling a 100% and to boot work kept me really busy. But of the two nights I spent there, the last night I was able to enjoy a little bit of the city.

I began by making a very quick stop to the Museum of Contemporary Art. I didn't have time to see the entire Museum and to be honest I wasn't really bowled over by any of the exhibits. But it was nice to walk about and see that people were freely allowed to take pictures as long as they didn't use flash photography. Mark Bradford's work was there, and that's the one I related to the most, but I can't say I'm a real lover of his style.

Afterwards I decided to walk to the movies but was sidetracked and kept walking to Navy Pier, which our participant had recommended. I liked that Chicago is as much a walking City as NYC is. Navy Pier is without a doubt, "tourist-trap-py" but I enjoyed my walk down the Pier. It's essentially a bunch of shops and restaurants and stands along the pier to the Lake. From there, you can see some of the Chicago Skyline and even some of Michigan's (I don't know which town.)

There was a Ferris Wheel that had yet to open and so I didn't have the chance to ride, I got to see a quick magician act, an acapella group performing, a Chicago style hot dog, and to close, a bit of ice cream. (Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough!)

Here be pictures (and video!)

 

Room by Emma Donoghue

When we come into his life, Jack is turning five. Yesterday he was four, but today he's five magic like. In that first page, I was hooked.

I really enjoyed Room. The story is that of Jack, and his Ma who live in very close quarters. You find out little by little, where Jack and his Ma live, and it's not until almost a hundred pages in that it's clear why they are there. Well, it wasn't for me... when I began reading the novel, I walked into it thinking it would be something completely different.

Forgive me for being vague, I just don't want to give things away. Suffice it to say, that I felt like I was listening to a 5 year old (a very intelligent and verbose one, sure) but the way Jack spoke and saw the world made me think of my nieces and nephews at that age and I think Donoghue captured it perfectly. I loved learning a little by little about Jack, what was important to him, about his world. When his world expands, I loved seeing what remained important to Jack.

Essentially, I just loved the main subject of the story; because although Jack, the child, is the narrator, this story is about parenting. The selfishness that being a parent is, (not that it relates as to why it was selfish to be a parent in Room, but y'all should know by now that I've always felt the need of our own genes to be replicated in a child a bit selfish, when there are some many children out there in need of parents. Mind you, just because I think it's a bit selfish I don't think it's wrong - I love my genetically related Nieces and Nephews.) and then suddenly, the moment when being a parent, a good one at least, is all about being "unselfish," and putting the needs of the child first.

Despite all else, this novel is about the close relationship between a parent and child, what it can be, how it can change. A little bit of nature vs. nurture comes into play, even, but in a lovely way.

I feel like I'm talking in circles because I don't want to give things away, but I have to say that Emma Donoghue has been surprising me pleasantly ever since I picked up Slammerkin back in Ireland. Well, mostly. I admit this is the first one of her books where I thought "Genius!" and not just "Nicely Done." In any case, do yourself a favor, and read Room.

Glee 3D and The Help (the movie.)

Upon my return to NYC, I made my way to Queens to visit Mi Cariño. It was raining like you wouldn't believe, which made it a perfect afternoon to go to the movies.

First we saw Glee 3D, which is out in limited time. Why the thing had to be in 3D I'm not sure, but stuff really did look sharp. This "movie" is essentially footage from the Glee concerts that went on around the country during the summer. This is the actors doing a concert as their characters in Glee, though, and so in reality this was a "New Directions" Concert. Confusing, I know, but I enjoyed the premise, and can also see why the producers would want to make sure that people associated the singing and dancing peeps with the show and not with the actors themselves.

This meant that behind the scenes and on stage, the actors were in character, portraying the wonderful Santana and Britney and Rachel Berry, etc. For the most part it sounded like the concert was actually live, although there were moments (like in Britney's rendition of Britney Spears "I'm a Slave 4 U") where I wondered if it was really live because the choreography was amazing and she sounded barely out of breath. Almost everyone had a solo number, except for Quinn and Sam who had a duet, and Tina who just had the main lead during "Born this Way." Some of the songs I think hadn't even made it to Glee, but a lot of the favorites were played, like "Don't Stop Believin'" and what not.

Like the Justin Bieber classic film, "Never say Never," Glee 3D went outside and interviewed the fans. This was not the camera asking them to yell the name of their favorite character though - the producers chose three kids to follow outside of the arena, all the way to their schools. They played for effect for the first one, not letting you know why she was different until after we learned she was a cheerleader. All three kids though, loved Glee and talked about the characters changing their lives and teaching them lessons.

Peppered through were also videos of the "Mini-Warbler," the philipino cutie that dresses in the Warbler getup and adores Blaine. Personally I enjoyed that everyone was in character - it kept the concert fun - and I wish I had seen less of Artie and more of others, but I understand he has a pretty good voice that lends itself to a lot of the songs, and I think of the boys he has the most experience performing live. "Rachel Berry" killed it every time she was on stage, showing that she was used to this and fed off of the audience. Santana, however, was the best, as always. :-)

After the fluff goodness that was Glee 3D, we decided to watch The Help.

I'm still not sure as to what I think about the movie... it follows closely on the books - except when it doesn't. (Ha!). Instead of having 3 narrators, we have one, and it's not Ms. Skeeter (young white woman in my book "review"), who is really the main narrator in the novel, but Aibeleen (Wise Maid), who provides the general thread. It was a smart move, in making the movie "user friendly." What works in a novel doesn't necessarily work when you're trying to get a big audience to come to the movies. And I won't lie, I think the movie was well done, superbly acted, even if it's not quite the same movie as the book. A lot of little things and nuances were changed in order to accommodate for time (and mind you, the movie is 2 hours long, though you don't notice). The "Horrible Awful" is milked a bit more in order to bring out the laughs. There are more inside jokes and times in the kitchen were Aibeleen gets to interact with Minny (Angry Black Maid), and really, every single one of the actresses is amazing.

Though Skeeter's storyline is cut off a little, Emma Stone makes her relatable and good - you really don't look at her as if she's a White Girl taking advantage of the Black Woman in order to get herself a job. Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer are magnificent, in roles that could've been turned into caricatures. Bryce Dallas Howard melds herself into that character in a way that you just love to hate her. Jessica Chastain (and you know, she's been in as many movies as Emma Stone lately, that woman don't play) was perfect as the White Trash that doesn't see color. Allison Janey is also there, and as I mentioned to Mi Cariño in the movie, was soo good at what she did, that at a pivotal scene in the movie when her character is doing something that will hurt her Maid and family, a despicable racist thing that she somewhat was forced to do (different times, crap-cakes), though I felt for the black maid and her daughter, I also just felt bad for Allison Janey's character. 

Some of the choices were blatantly off towards the end, and I don't want to give things away, but even if I had never read the book, they didn't fit. I was a bit upset that although the movie ends somewhat happily, and Aibeleen ends spiritually in the same spot as she does in the novel, she doesn't get to have the same ending as novel Aibeleen. I'm not sure as to why they chose not to follow up on this - if they thought it wouldn't be historically accurate, I don't know. But to spoil some endings for you: In the novel, Skeeter gets her job in NY, and she leaves her job to Aibeleen, who then leaves her job as a maid to be a writer. In the movie, Skeeter gets her job, and Aibeleen declares herself a writer as the movie ends, but is left without a job. What the heck Hollywood?

Of Parenting and The Ethics of Flying, Part 2.

First let me begin by saying that our last night in Charlotte we caved to our desires and went back to Mac's to have the brisket, this time with Mac and Cheese and the Green Bean Casserole. It was freaking to die for, and yes, I have pictures. Since it was the last night we celebrated with a frosty beverage. I had a local pilsner, Captain James Jack.

which was alright, not really remarkable, but not bad either. Here's the Brisket. For those that need to know, this was Carolina Hickory Smoked Beef Brisket. It was dry rubbed and slow smoked for 12 hours, and finished on the grill with red BBQ Sauce. I'm still having dreams about it.

But now, to flying.

I thought that not much could be worse than the experience I had flying in, with a child kicking my seat. I was wrong. There's something I can't stand, and have no patience for: rude adults.

While checking in and getting our seats, Susan and I were lucky enough to be able to switch to exit and aisle seats. They didn't have that much extra space, but it was nice. We boarded pretty quickly and sat down, to find some woman just standing up on the row in front of hours, ostensibly waiting for the plane to finish boarding to try to change her seat; you see, her older children had been placed in the middle seats somewhere in the back (same row though), and her younger child was in the middle seat of the row ahead of me. She wanted to at least get someone to switch with one of her children, so that they could sit together, and so that she could seat in the aisle next to her child. Sensible enough, right? And understandably so. But standing on the person's seat is not really the way to go about asking someone to take a middle seat for you, but whatever. She gets the person to switch with her (after bothering the flight attendant, and just generally standing in the middle of the aisle, getting in the way of people that are boarding) and so Susan and I look at each other thinking, "Good, now that's over, let's sleep!"

But alas, it was not to be. Just then, a "gentleman" comes over and seats on the other aisle seat, buckles himself, and then proceeds to have a conversation with the man sitting by the window - two seats and an aisle away from him. I don't know if I'll be able to explain this just with words. I want to draw y'all a diagram. Suffice it to say, that in order to be heard the men were loud, and annoying. Eventually the mom asks, in a not unfriendly tone if they plan to have a conversation over her the entire flight. The man's response? "You see that man? He's a sports news anchor at (enter small NY TV station) and I'm his producer. We were here covering the Giants/Panthers game."

I really wanted the woman to say "so the fuck what?" because after all, the freaking game is not even in Season yet, and this is a small TV news station. The game was last night. The hell. But instead, the woman feigns some interest, and what proceeds is the weirdest instance of three way flirting while in front of a child that I've ever seen. The News Anchor flirted, the mom flirted, the producer guy flirted and they all did it - LOUDLY. Eventually, the mom started to pay attention to her kid and the producer and the News Anchor just resumed their conversation.

Here's where I was torn. Unlike with Sam, these people knew better. I mean, really? In a small enclosed space like that? I was about to chew my hands off, specially since I didn't have headphones with me. To boot, just as the last few stragglers come in, turns out the News Anchor guy put both his very small bags on the overhead, and the new person putting their luggage away had to ask him twice to at least take one of his bags out. Which, he promptly put back in, on top of the other person's luggage as soon as they went away. In any case, the talking went on for ages.

Eventually, the CHILD was the one that made them shut up, by keeping interrupting the News Anchor and the Producer, asking to see things out of the News Anchor window. And then the flirting resumed between News Anchor and Mom. At least though, their voices were not as loud and annoying as the producers.

To say: I clearly hold more patience for children than for adults. But also, why not be courteous of others? Every time they talked I'd say "seriously, whatever you're discussing is not life and death, wait til we land!" But couldn't bring myself to say so, and eventually didn't really need to. But even 15 minutes of having to listen to them made the flight longer. Alas, next time, I will not forget the all important headphones.

Diners and Dives

Sometimes Dinner calls for breakfast. After a 10 hour workday, we walked to Philadelphia Deli, to have some chow. The place is in a very old shack looking structure, where the tables look like they've been there 20 years and the chairs and booths 30 at the very least.

Our waiter greeted us by calling us Dear every other second, and looked like she should've retired a good 15 years ago. She was quite lively and spry. I chose to have me a sausage and cheese omelette with potatoes and toast.

It was quite tasty and I devoured everything in sight. After the waiter found out that we were from out of town, she came over to make sure she knew where we were from and our business in town, before insisting we had some of the pecan pie before we left. I didn't want to be rude, so I said yes. She added some ice cream:

I kept thinking of When Harry Met Sally. Pe-CAHN Pie! Susan and I left nothing behind.

Afterwards, Susan and I decided that a movie was needed, because we needed to dispel the last dregs of the very long day. I didn't tell her I had seen Bridesmaids already, so we watched that. It was kind of weird and funny, because we laughed a whole lot more than anyone else in the theater (being Friday night, the small place was chock full of couples and a couple of female friends.) Not sure why - they laughed the most at the bathroom humor in the midst of the film, but I still find that opening scene beyond hilarious.

The dangers of listening

Our first day of Listening in Charlotte, North Carolina. We're working at a Children's hospital for the next three days and a lot of the stories we've heard so far have had to do with parents losing their children, or young children coming over to talk about what it's like being a patient.

I have not been professionally prepared for this. Every time I work I realize that I am not a trained psychiatrist, psychologist, social worker. I'm just a regular ole person with Degrees in English and Writing and I'm not sure I know how to handle all of this information.

Today, I've chosen to be as detached as possible. You can't be detached during the conversation, of course, because you need to be present when people are sharing their stories. But how to handle all of the stuff I'm taking in?

After work, I wanted to handle it by going to get fried Chicken, but Susan didn't want to do any meat after the fest that was Mac's. We ended up making our way to Beijing Chinese Restaurant so that we could gorge on Tofu.

Had some fried veggie dumplings to begin with.

As my main course: Ma Po Tofu with white rice.

Not the best Chinese I've ever had, of course, and I know some of you will be like "really, Chinese food in North Carolina?" but it fed the hunger, and the Tofu did feel good after all that meat.

To finish, my cookie fortune

which marked not only the very first "fortune telling" I've ever received from a fortune cookie, but also the first time I actually read the word fortune in one, so I was very fortunate and happy.

Last but not least, blurry pic of downtown Charlotte building

Charlotte, North Carolina

Last Post before I head to work!

Arrived in Charlotte, North Carolina, yesterday afternoon. Susan and I had one goal: Barbecue. Our work contact hooked us up with a place, so we knew where to go right away: Mac's Speed Boat or something crazy like that. There are three of them in Charlotte, just search for Mac's. It's ostensibly, a biker restaurant, with an area outside specifically for bikers to park. The regular car folk have to make do with a dirt hill.

On our way to Mac's we asked our hotel receptionist if she knew anything about Mac's. Even though the place was 5 minutes away she said she had never heard of it (My pronunciation may have had something to do with that) and recommended we go someplace else. My co-worker and I wondered about that until we got to the place. Once we in, including the two of us, we realized there were only 4 people of color that we could see. I don't know why I'm always aware of when I'm in the minority - everyone there was super nice to us, with our waiter calling Susan and I baby, and no one doing any of those Hollywood double takes that are supposed to happen when you enter a place you're not welcome in. But Susan was aware too before I mentioned it, so I know I'm not alone in this. We wondered if it had more to do with socio-economic statuses in Charlotte, since Mac's was recommended by a hospital worker, and because the food was in the pricey side (although not NY price.) Regardless, I would be curious to go to a "cheaper" place and see if the atmosphere would be different or the bbq would taste different. But don't let this bit of wondering stop you: this had to be some of the best Barbecue I've had in my LIFE.

First, instead of bread they brought us Hush Puppies. Coors Light cans were on special, so I had me one, too.

Oh, they were tasty. After, I wondered about getting a Brisket Sandwich. The waiter babied me until I gave in and got the full Beef Brisket Plate, with Mac and Cheese, and Collard Greens.

Oh my God, I ate til I couldn't eat anymore. The Mac and Cheese was to die for. The Collard Greens were a little sweet, but still good. The Brisket... oh Sweet Jesus, the Brisket. Sigh, the Brisket. YUM.

If you're ever in this part of town, make a beeline for Mac's. We finished the night by listening to the Parody Kings.

A great way to end the day.


Walked 2.20 miles in 31 minutes at 6:00pm

Of Parenting and the Ethics of Flying

After 2 years and 2 weeks of "professional" traveling, I've encountered for the first time those travelers. I'm sitting on the window seat, towards the back of a plane, right behind me is a kid, must be about 3 years-old. I'm not wary of crying children - I can tune them out easily. This one, though, this one's a kicker.

It starts the moment I sit down. Mom is on the phone, sitting in the aisle. In the middle sits a slightly older little girl, who is talkative but her legs are still. She must be 5 or so. Immediately I resent that Mom is sitting on the aisle - everyone knows that for maximum control, proximity to the child is of essence. Listening to her conversation I realize that she's talking to her dad, telling him "you'll do fine," so I decide to cut her some slack and just sit forward, moving my back from the seat rest.

Little devil goes on a rampage, though, and suddenly starts kicking with a vengeance. Finally Mom hangs up the phone, turns to the kid (Sam) and tells him to stop, or he's going to get in trouble with "the Lady." (meaning the flight attendant.)

I want to get up and give her a parenting lesson right then and there. I want to ask her why she doesn't have things to keep their attention (crayons, paper, tiny toys, hell I've seen parents travel with portable dvd players), why isn't she sitting between them and most importantly, I want to let her know that her kids need to respect (and maybe be a bit afraid, at that age, whatever, of) her, not the "Lady."

But I keep my mouth shut because at least she's addressed the problem somewhat and I want to give Sam the chance to redeem himself. He promptly stops kicking and moves to loudly whine about wanting apple juice and being in another plane. I fall asleep as is my wont when the plane departs. Sam, however, does not disappoint, and wakes me up by alternatively kicking my seat - left foot, right foot, together! He sings loudly about his boredom. Soon enough he's taking off his seat belt and standing on his seat. Mom throws out a litany of orders without any real authority behind it (sit down, shh, don't kick.) I kick myself for switching bags and leaving behind the crayons that Yalialma gave me the last time I saw her. I start to wonder how long is my flight and reminding myself I can tune out anything.

Once again I'm surprised parents don't "help" their children and themselves by giving them a bit of tylenol cold or zyrtec or something. Hell, chamomile tea if you're the kind that's squeamish. Anything to soothe them a little bit. They suffer, the kids suffer, the other passengers suffer. His sister (Taylor) attempts to make things better. She tells him: "Sam, there are the airplane rules: first, don't smell your feet. Don't put your feet on someone else's seat. Don't poke someone's eye out."

I finally sneak a peak at Sam and he's of course, adorable looking, with a full head of white blond hair, and he gives me a brilliant smile when he sees me. His mother asks them if they enjoyed NYC, trying to get them busy and occupied. By then she's tried to pull out a laptop and plays them a video, but Sam is not interested - after all the laptop is on Mom's tray, and Mom's on the aisle. I feel the airplane descend a little. I feel a blissful moment of peace when Mom takes Sam to the restroom but on the way back, after tasting a bit of freedom is back on, and he's screaming at her that she doesn't like her, doesn't like Taylor and goes into full rabieta mode. Finally Mom says that he will spend some time in the Naughty Chair at home if he keeps this up. Daddy will not be happy when he finds out how Sam behaved. Sam responds by spitting on Taylor and Mom's response to Taylor, who has just hit Sam is to "don't hit him, just ignore him."

Sister tries to make Sam comfortable and talk. By now Sam has earned 6 minutes on the Naughty Chair. We're about to land - Taylor is distressed because Sam's belt is not buckled and she keeps telling Mom, Mom keeps saying that he's buckled, until she realizes that he isn't and finally tightens him in.

When we land and we're waiting for the 27 rows ahead of us to leave the plane, I stand up and ask Sam to give me a high five and teach him how to thumb wrestle. Mom talks to the children (not to me) saying "you're lucky she likes children after you were kicking her seat for so long." I say out loud that they are children, because indeed, they are. I give Sam a last wave goodbye before my co-worker and I get out of there and to the Charlotte, North Carolina airport.

I changed my mind a lot during the course of this flight - from judging Sam's Mom to feeling sorry for her (when a kid starts a tantrum, I always feel bad for the parent. I don't hold the belief that all children that throw tantrums are spoiled or not well parented.) I still do believe that her flight would've been made easier if she had sat in the middle, although I understand that she tried to give Taylor a view of the window - although Sam kept the window down because the height freaked him out, mostly. The hardest part is when your younger kid is not as easy to handle as your older one. It was obvious that Taylor was the kind of kid that listened and could be reasoned with - those tactics did not work with Sam. I'm proud, however, that I was able to not go crazy, although all through the flight, I kept thinking of this drawing - it's from Strangers in Paradise, David and Katchoo get on a flight and David has less of an enjoyable time. This picture belongs to Terry Moore, the amazing artist.

I'm sorry if you can't read the dialogue. You should buy Strangers In Paradise and read it, it's a great graphic novel. And Sam - I hope your Mom brings you something to play with, at the very least, the next time you fly.

The Hunger Games Trilogy

So I know I'm reading the McCann book, but while in Miami Mi Cariño bought for us a copy of The Hunger Games, book that has been making the rounds for a while now, and since we're both suffering from Harry Potter withdrawal we figured, "sure!"

I read the first book in about a day and a half, and after struggling to make myself wait to buy the rest, I bought and read the other two by the end of the week and so, here I am, telling you what I think. Be warned, this post will probably be very spoilerish, so if you haven't read the books, don't read this yet.

I enjoyed reading the Trilogy. Like the Twilight books, these novels are great when it comes to pacing, and plot - you want to know what happens. Here's the premise: It's an indeterminate time in the future, and North America has ceased to exist in the way it did before (no word on the rest of the world.) What remains bands together to create a new country that goes by the name of Panem, and it's divided in 13 districts, plus a capitol. At some point, the districts rebel against the capitol and the capitol destroys district 13 to show the rest of the districts what could happen. In "remembrance" the capitol institutes something called "The Hunger Games," an annual event in which two "tributes" (one boy, one girl between the ages of 12 and 18) are chosen randomly from each of the remaining 12 districts to be taken to the capitol, where they will essentially fight each other to the death until one of them is remaining. The whole thing is televised all over the districts, and it's essentially a major reality TV show that's been going on for 74 years or so. The "Victor" gets to go home with their nightmares and not have to work for the rest of his or her life - except to mentor the tributes from their district chosen in the next Hunger Games. It's a game that really holds no winners.

That's where the story begins. Our heroine is Katniss, a young 16 year-old who is from district 12 and has been supporting her family (a mother, a younger sister) for years now, since her father died in a mining accident. Katniss sneaks out of the district to hunt in the forrest, a forbidden area, a forbidden activity. During that year's Hunger Games Katniss' younger sister is chosen and Katniss volunteers to go in her stead. Chosen to also attend the Games is Peeta, the baker's son.

So now that you know the very basics, here are my thoughts: The books are nice - easy to read and entertaining. Introduces a lot of ideas into teenagers, (the books' intended audience) but I'm sorry to say that Suzzane Collins (author) falls short in that she could've made the books be a lot more than they were. She spends so much time and work on the novels romance (although in a very practical way) that it feels like towards the end of the last book she's more worried in making the audience wonder who Katniss will end up with than in the resolution of the actual crisis. The end feels a bit rushed, also, but that might have to do with book length restrictions. The sad part is that after the marathon reading, what remains the most is the love triangle, and not the many lessons about freedom, treating others fairly, about democracy, love and economic gain that she introduces but does not back up. I doubt that the movies will do these lessons justice - it'll be more about the awesome stunts Katniss will do, about escaping death again and again, and about how cute Peeta is. (And the other guy, who I do not root for, so I refuse to say his name.) People will be more worried wether the actor that portrays Peeta is blonde enough than on the fact that 1984 before it, and many other books, the trilogy speaks about the role of government in our lives, and wether it's smart to get to the point where they have all the control. Regardless, I recommend the books wholeheartedly; Katniss is a refreshing and good heroine compared to the blandness and stupidity that is Bella Swan. Katniss is more a mixture of Hermione and The Golden Compass' Lyra Belacqua: smart, thrown into her situation, but willing to go the distance - for others.

Miami, Part 2

Spent another week in Miami with Mi Cariño and her family. It was a great visit indeed, and the time just FLEW. Which is nice, and then it isn't.

We flew in Tuesday night, in theory. By the time we were heading to the airport, thunder was crackling like crazy, which delayed us right off the bat - originally we were scheduled to depart at 9pm but that didn't happen until after midnight. Thankfully Mi Cariño's parents still picked us up and we arrived at the house somewhere close to 4am. But since we had nowhere to go the next day it was all good, and we just spent Wednesday lazying about and catching up on sleep.

Highlights from the trip: a visit to Coral Castle Museum.

This guy (25) is jilted by his 16 year old fiancee. After deciding he will never love anyone else, that no one else can love him, and being told by the "Sweet Sixteen" that she was saying no to him because he didn't have any money, he made it his life mission to build himself a castle. And he did so, by using Coral. It's essentially a sculpture garden, the guy's name is Edward (you look up his last name!) The amazing thing is that he built it all himself, and he did it at night so no one could see him. He "knew the secret of pyramids" apparently, and went about making reading chairs, thrones, bedrooms, a well, a confession room, a place to stargaze, and a place for children to play. It's actually kind of impressive. 

I mean, y'all, he made a heart table. Without modern tools. We're talking before 1951. Amazing. 

Another Highlight - Zoo Miami. Mi Cariño, two of my nieces, and my buddy O and his youngest son Caleb and I, had us a good time looking at animals and melting in the sun. We should've gotten a bike to ride through and minimize the walking and the child whining, but it was all good. Witness, cute picture of kid turned Jaguar!

We also visited the mall and had us some fun at Dave & Buster's and went crazy at the bookstore buying the kiddies books (and ourselves) and had us a 50% dinner at some chain looking restaurant thanks to the girls and their connections. Here, a pretty decent spaghetti bolognese. 

Which makes me say: let's talk about food! First there was Yucca with grilled chicken and maduros.

We ate that at Las Islas, where we ate at the last trip. The food was once again, uninspired. But the Abuela likes it, and so, we go. 

Then, we had pasta bolognese at some fancy outdoor restaurant by their "Lincoln Center." The area has a name. I do not remember it. It was very nice, like a loooong strip of stores and restaurants. Does it count as an outdoor mall? We ate there after watching "Sarah's Key," a movie that's just chock full of happy, happy, joy, joy. (Smell the sarcasm.) It was a nice movie, though. So was the pasta. 

A couple of days later we ate at some new trendy restaurant in the heart of Miami. Kill me because I don't have the desire to check for the name. I suck. We began with some cheese balls as appetizers

An I had me an extremely expensive Chicken Mofongo. It was worth it though, the stuff was delish. But don't tell Mi Cariño I said that.

On our last night there, we ate at The Cheesecake Factory, a first time for me. The food was good, I had meatloaf with mashed potatoes. I'm pretty sure I took a picture of that, but can't find it, so just imagine it. Mi Cariño sent me a picture of our dessert though:

The Cheesecake did not disappoint. Neither did this amazing week. I will leave you with an image from Matheson Hammock, a manmade area we visited (but did not swim in) that afforded us a great view of the Miami skyline. But don't worry, I did swim in Miami Beach. I even got a tiny tan! So, yay.

The Help

Forgot to write my thoughts on The Help. Had been curious about it, not sure if I read it just because I wanted to know more about it before the movie came out.
The novel is easy enough to read. Main conceit is that young girl just graduated college, goes back home to Jackson, MS still single and with ambitions of becoming a writer. While living her life she decides to write a book about "The Help" from their perspective. When the tell-all within the novel is published, all hell breaks loose.

On first look, one can make the mistake to think that the novel is about the group of black women that worked as maids during the height of the civil rights movement - their feelings, examples of what they had to go through as they continued to work for, and raise babies that were white - the same people that were holding their rights away from them. But the book is written by a white woman, herself "raised" by a black maid in Jackson, MS during the end of the civil rights movement and wether we like it or not, the reader's experience of the book is tainted by this knowledge. A friend who also read the novel told me that the maids were stereotypes, that you had your angry black woman, your wise and motherly black woman, the one that kept giving to their white folks because they loved them so much. Part of me feels that these stereotypes are there because the reader will decide to find them.

Let me explain: the book is narrated by three women - two maids and the young lady that we talked about before. (I'm sorry, I don't remember names and I'm too lazy to look them up.) So we've got the young lady, who doesn't really fit in. For one, she actually finished college instead of just going there to find herself a husband. Two, she is interested in leaving Jackson - she is not what one would consider super attractive, is awkward with guys, and can't seem to mold to what society tells her a woman her age should be doing, what her friends are doing. Then there's Wise Maid, who just lost her son to racism, a son who was studious and smart and had the hopes of becoming a writer. Wise Maid has spent her lifetime raising other people's babies - white babies to be specific. White babies that love her and call HER momma until they learn that Wise Maid is black and thus not worthy of love. Wise Maid tends to change houses when the kids get to that point. Angry Maid has every reason in the world to be angry: her husband beats her, drinks their money away sometimes, and has been working for white folks since she's 14 years old. And she's been big mouthed since birth.

Okay, I don't want to give the whole book away, but here's the thing: a woman whose son just died and is able to raise up and continue working is strong if she's white, wise if she's black. Similarly, Angry Maid and Young Lady are very similar - both speak their mind and go against the norm. But Angry Maid is black and thus she's an angry black woman. Young Lady is white and so she's opinionated. We see what we want to see. Personally, I don't think the characters are stereotypical - each one of them is nuanced, and they have reasons to be the way they are.

However, I think people are missing the forrest for the trees. The Help is not about the Maids at all. After all, I don't know if that's what the Maids (employees) would call themselves. The Help is about white guilt at a time when the phrase was knew. The Help is about a woman suddenly realizing the injustice going around her, and how she went about to fight it - with the help of two black woman. Though we were able to see inside their minds, the novel always was about the Young Lady. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that - in the contrary, it's a needed point-of-view, and I think the author went about the right way. I think that the point of view of the person that learned to no longer be racist by being loved and being around the people that were being mistreated is important and deserves to be heard. Not in the "wow, they're heroes!" way, but rather in the "things are possible with love." It doesn't make Young Lady a trivial character. But that the author gave the other two women a voice, balanced that story so that it isn't about White Guilt, but rather a picture, and we get to look at the action from different houses. It's great. It's about these two women that refuse to no longer be invisible and about these young woman that realizes that there are people around here, that they are not invisible and shouldn't be treated as such. There is change in this novel, there is hope and voice in this novel.

I enjoyed the read, and I'm looking forward to the movie ( though that has more to do with Viola Davis than anything else) and wonder how they'll handle it - wether they'll try to make either of the parts bigger (be it the Maids or the Young Lady) in order to make it more "relatable." In the meantime, I recommend you read the book, if only because Stockett has a good, funny, writing voice, that makes time fly.

Kristhan, Age 10

Kristhan, Age 10:
Sabes cómo me pude dormir anoche? Imaginando que era un tiburón y me estaba comiendo todos los pescados.