My Digital Hiatus

I have been staring at the screen for the last twenty minutes, wondering how to begin a post about the week I am about to begin -- a week of vacation with people I love, and a complete break from work, and a nearly complete break with all things digital.

I read this post by Gwen Bell about a week ago, detailing a bit of her mindset about a digital sabbatical that she took while digging more deeply into the rest of her life. I read it, and then went away and thought, and then came back and read it again. (I rarely do this. My RSS-feed and work-related to-read list is so long that very few items get read more than once.) But after reading, I couldn't get the idea out of my head that I really needed time away from the web.

The internet and everything related to it used to be a great deal of fun.  I've been an early adopter of more than half of the social networks that existed by mid-2009, and I loved the game of figuring out how they worked and making friends and developing new bits of my life digitally.  I've kept blogs for almost ten years, and love the way that they have rebirthed the concept of serial writing while providing a community of fellow readers (thanks to comment forums). Wikipedia is one of my all-time favorite things ever. I could go on, except that I can't.

My love for the internet is being pushed aside by my desire to try new things. Which would be hard if it were just my digital life that was affected by that change, but it's also my job. I run an eRevenue program. Everything about the work I do (the people I pay attention to, the behaviors they exhibit, the tools I build, the stuff I read, the studies that matter, the new tools I need to master, the ways in which I need to educate an enormous team of others) revolves around the internet, and demands that I be an expert in everything I can get my hands on. It's vitally important that I learn everything possible, and teach it to others.  But I'm coming to the realization that I don't know how to be a person who works entirely with the internet without also being consumed by my online life.

Lately, Facebook and Twitter and Flickr and YouTube and Etsy and Ravelry and Wikipedia and Crowdrise and LiveJournal and my Google Feeds and even this blog have become work.  I've had to choose, in every minute, whether I was going to read a stream and flag articles of importance or prepare singing for an audition (I ultimately canceled it because I wasn't prepared); or knit a gift for a friend (it's not done yet); cook an elaborate meal (I opted for the 30-minute variety); take a walk with my girlfriend (the walk was gorgeous and lovely, but I could feel my blackberry vibrating in my bag and it made me feel guilty); or practice my Spanish (I answered a pregunta from a client who didn't speak English with a broken un momento; voy ayudar, rather than providing assistance myself). I don't know how to fix it yet, but this must end.

Tomorrow, I am boarding a bus with the most wonderful woman in the world. I'm packing a backpack with bathing suits and a pair of jeans, a book to read, and my knitting bag, and carrying my guitar in the hand that isn't clasping hers. We're heading out of town for a glorious week of rest and relaxation -- kayaking and hiking and picnicking and swimming and cycling and walking and climbing walls with tiny nephews and cooking dinner for appreciative parents and picking apples and baking pies and playing cards and watching sunsets and roasting s'mores and sleeping under the stars. There will be no internet.  There will be no email.  There will be no social networking, or reading of "news" online.

I hope that the time away lets me come back refreshed, with some answers about how to do the work that matters without being consumed by the things that don't. Because at the end of the day, that beautiful woman and those charming little boys and the rest of my glorious family are going to win -- and I want some other things to not have to lose.

If you love me and would like to spend time with me while I'm upstate on my vacation, call the parents' house; I'll be in the pool by 3 o'clock tomorrow.


First published at expetesso.com

A Goal Revised

After a few years of real practice, I have a pretty good handle on how to cook.  I can look at ingredients and figure out how to turn them into a meal.  I can bake pretty amazing stuff.  I can figure out what seasoning a dish may need by taste -- and can develop seasoning ideas in advance with some creative thought.

The next phase of this original "learn to cook" goal is to develop a solid repertoire of 30 to 40 recipes that I don't need written instructions or a cookbook for, that I can rotate in and out and through my kitchen for various purposes.

See more progress on: develop a repertoire of quality recipes

First published at 43things.com

A Season for Everything. Even Shopping.

I am not one of those people who will "shop for the sake of shopping." I don't like spending money unnecessarily, and I loathe trying to find clothing that fits. As I've mentioned several times, trying to fit a very tall and moderately curvy frame is impossible without tailoring, which makes trying on clothes in fitting rooms an unpleasant ordeal. That said, I'm still trying to flesh out my wardrobe after replacing everything in my closet and dresser a year ago this month. (Trust me, when you lose 45 pounds without meaning to, there is no way to force underwear to stay up. Safety pins are helpless against too-big-to-be-stretchy-elastic-waistbands.)

Luckily, after taking a rough inventory of my closet, there aren't many things I need outside of the hosiery department. The way that I wrote up my shopping list amuses me, though, and seems worth preserving.

Clothing and Accessories: Purchase or Repair Needed

Shoes

• R Red wedge heels (re-soled for city walking)
• R Black patent leather heels (toe finish repaired, new heel tips applied)
• R Black heeled boots (new heel tips applied, soles reinforce
• P Brown walking flats (to replace worn out Mary Janes)
  (Timberland Pinkham Notch Mary Jane in brown leather, $85 at Zappos)
• P Purple low-top converse All-Stars ($45 from Zappos)

Accessories

• P Cinch belt, for the dress that never seems to fit properly, and winter tunics
  (Custom-made to order by Contrived to Charm, $79)
• P Chainmaille choker, commissioned from Mom (pester her for a quote)
• DON'T YOU DARE buy anything resembling a scarf, silk or otherwise

Clothing

• P Fall coat, preferably a trench
  (Inquiry sent to Peterman regarding a classic in scarlet)
• Melissa Ann Lee, you are NEVER allowed to purchase another acrylic sweater. Buy quality wool and knit one for yourself. You have the skills, dammit! And, come to think of it, the yarn.

On the sweater front, I found knitting patterns for yarn currently in my stash. This winter, I'll be making the Francis, Revisited Pullover in pale celery (which will look fabulous with slim trousers and the belt I linked to above), the Newport Beach Pullover from a fabulous striping yarn in smoky roses, teals, and grays (Sunday brunch, anyone?), and the Silky Wool Vest (third photo down -- the bodice seam is closed with tiny buttons!) in dusty, vintage rose (for layering under my brown suit). (Ravelry ladies, you were totally right about the stash -- it didn't matter that I purchased yarn for particular patterns -- now that I have it, I've selected at least 8 different patterns per yarn that I'd rather make!)

With these items, I might finally not have to worry, ever, about what to wear. Or not. And *that* makes me happier than I can possibly imagine.

First published at expetesso.com

Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, repeat

It's been quite a long time since I last designated a weekend for bulk cooking. Corrin and I have been shopping and cooking together on a "day to day" basis more often than not, depending on which kitchen we're in and what's already on hand; as such I haven't been terribly creative with cooking, since the repertoire for available meals has doubled.  Since I'm on my own this week, I blocked out the afternoon for feeding-myself preparations.  And since August has decided to behave (weatherwise) as if it's May, it's been a delight to turn the oven on.

I do feel less of a compulsion to provide myself with lots of variety in meals nowadays.  Maybe that's because it's summer and I'm gorging myself on fresh fruit at every opportunity, or maybe it's because I so rarely eat the same meal two days in a row now, or maybe it's because I have other things to think about than food. Whatever it is, I'm looking forward to several repeat meals from these dishes this week.

Thai Chicken Salad
I cribbed and cobbled and streamlined from a half-dozen different recipes for Thai Chicken to toss this salad together -- I was constrained by what was available at Trader Joe's this week (since I forsook my beloved Whole Foods in order to pick up a package of Jo-Jos), and varieties of produce isn't exactly an element strength for TJ.

• 1/2 pound boneless, thin-carved chicken breast, sauteed until dark and flavorful in oil and soy sauce, then cubed
• 1 4-ounce package of pea shoots, chopped into 1" long pieces
• 2 ribs of celery, finely chopped
• 1/2 English cucumber, sliced paper thin
• leaves from 6 stalks of fresh basil, finely chopped
• leaves from 6 stalks of fresh mint, finely chopped
• Spicy Peanut Sauce (all ingredients combined to taste)
• Peanut Butter
• Sesame Oil
• Soy Sauce
• Rice Vinegar 
• Cayenne Pepper

I tossed everything in a bowl and mixed well to coat all of the veggies with the sauce.  Peanut sauce is relatively thick, and mine turned out rather salty to boot, so it holds the salad together very well -- not at all like what one might imagine a collection made up mostly of leaves would offer for texture.

My original plan was to make sandwich wraps from the salad, but given how salty it turned out, I opted to make honey-cornbread muffins instead.  A muffin spread with a bit of tomato jam, a dish of salad, and a crisp nectarine will make for fabulous lunches this week.

Sun Dried Tomato Sausage and Mushroom Risotto
Risotto is one of my favorite meals, despite the time it takes and the patience required to have a really well-finished dish. This one I made up as I went along.

• 1 pound of pre-cooked Sun Dried Tomato chicken sausage, thawed and sliced into thin coins
• 1 pound of cremini mushrooms, sliced
• 1 small Vidalia onion, not-too-finely diced
• 1 cup Arborio rice
• 1/2 cup Chardonnay
• 7 cups water
• black pepper, to taste
• lemon juice, a dash

Saute the sausage and mushrooms together in the bottom of a Dutch Oven for ten minutes.  When the mushrooms have reduced and the sausage browned, lift them from the pot with a slotted spoon and set aside. To the juice and oils in the bottom of the pot, add the onion and cook over medium heat until translucent. Add one cup of arborio rice and six turns of grounds from a black pepper mill -- stir rapidly for two minutes to toast the rice. Then, prepare in the traditional manner with your choice of wine and broth (I used Chardonnay (because I had it on hand) and water (since beef broth, which is what I had on hand, would have conflicted with the sausage).) When the rice has finished cooking and the dish is beginning to thicken, turn off the heat and stir in a few drops of lemon juice, season with more pepper as you wish, and add the cooled sausages and mushrooms. Serve immediately.

I'm one of the weird people who desperately loves leftover risotto, regardless of expert opinions to the contrary, so reheating this for dinner over the next few nights will be just heavenly.

I should now be preparing to make Peanut Butter Crispy Bars (except that someone ate all the peanut butter before leaving on vacation) or Brownies or Blueberry Crumb Bars, but my kitchen is hot again, and the kitchen is full of dirty dishes.  I will gear up at some point before bed, but not until after I've had a chance at Risotto seconds.

First published at expetesso.com

Moving, Part 1

So I'm moving. Again. After I swore I wouldn't move right after moving to New York City, because moving is a hassle and a giant stressor and a complete life-and-work disruptor.

I really like my apartment.  It's an adorable space -- a first floor flat with a single bedroom, an enormous and gorgeous kitchen, an adequate living room, a ridiculously spacious bathroom, four large windows, a combination of hardwood and tile floors, a decorative fireplace, and the cutest little front courtyard with easy tie-up space for bicycles.  I'm in a super cute, safe, quiet, residential-with-pluses neighborhood. I have really great neighbors with whom I like to spend time and share meals. My cats are comfortable here; they have plenty of room to run and jump and romp and play pounce-and-chase with one another, and the window ledges are a foot deep, which is perfect for naps.  I'm a five-minute walk to one of three year-round farmer's markets in the city, which is a terrifically awesome plus.

There are drawbacks, of course. I have no storage space. I've gotten around this in many regards, but it's still a major irritant.  Transportation to/from anywhere is a mile-long hike, and many of the places that I go on a regular basis have no room for locking up a bike, so I have to take the subway all over the place.  My landlord is the type to "make promises [you] don't intend to keep," with the smooth-talking, oh-so-laid-back attitude of a guy who's just super chill, and I can't stand being around people who don't keep their word. I'm spending more for it than I think it's worth, location wise, but not a great deal more.

The bigger problem is that the situation just outside the walls of my flat is untenable.  Legal papers threatening foreclosure were delivered here for the landlord in early July, which he excused with the comment "it was a mistake."  ConEdison visited in early August to rip out the electric and gas meters citing nonpayment, and he claims he "was in Canada and paid the bill late." He's got three sets of tenants and told us each three different stories, none of which sounds like the truth.  He never collects rent checks on time, or cashes them before the middle of the month, and yet isn't paying the bills for a building that's currently listed for sale on half-a-dozen real estate sites for $1,399,000. I've gotten to the point where I dread coming home at the end of the day, in case there's another horrible surprise waiting for me on the front steps. Like a padlock around the door, keeping me from getting inside to my cats.

And so, I'm moving.

I keep saying that, "ideally, things will hold out until my lease expires on February 28." Until a few days ago, that seemed like the best case scenario: lots of time to think and plan, searching for a flat when few people are (which takes some of the competitive rush-rush-rush out of the deal), massive change at a time of year when I can cope with it well. Except that the tension I'm carrying in my neck and shoulders, which grows steadily worse throughout the day as I draw nearer to going home, might sever my neck from my shoulders in half that time if something doesn't change -- for the better or worse.

So, I ponder the time when I will have choice, growing ever more dissatisfied with the stagnance of waiting for someone else to make a decision that gives me options.  Since right now, due to leases and agreements and finances and a landlord who is either lazy or stupid or dishonest or all three but nonetheless does just enough to keep within the letter of the law, I have none.

First published at expetesso.com

...and the heavens opened...

rain, street lacquer, oily puddles and spinning rubber.
Originally uploaded to Flickr by kvdl

New York City is gorgeously fresh and cool this morning, as rain sprinkles to the ground. There have been short bursts of high volume water fall, interspersed with a steady light plopping and mist. The sound of it is musical above the usual cacophony of the streets.

It's been so long since we had a good rainstorm; people are dressed in flip flops and rolled up trousers, and many left their umbrellas at home. As I was entering the subway at 110th Street, a woman next to me flung her arms out and lifted her face to feel the droplets on her skin. Everyone is beautiful today.

First published at expetesso.com

A Yankee Clipper

I shaved all of my hair off during my junior year of college, and wore it that way for about a year and a half.  I'd come out on a very conservative campus, and felt both isolated and angry -- I wanted to do something rash and rebellious, that made me feel like my appearance matched how different and outside-the-norms I felt.  

How tremendously unique and independent I was.

Fast forward ten years, and I'm a (mostly) professional adult working in a competitive field in a tough city.  I dropped the dark, angsty poetry and the "history is everything" angle from barely post-adolescence in favor of a business career in nonprofit healthcare. (My 19-year-old self would see "business" and scream "sell-out!", but I like to think that 30-year-old me has mellowed a bit.)

That "(mostly) professional" descriptor is important because on Thursday -- a disgustingly hot and muggy day, I left the office in search of a hair cut.  It was time to lop off the hot, messy mop sitting above my ears in favor of a cool, refreshing, wispy-edged pixie.

An hour of searching for a salon with an opening, I gave up and went to visit Tony, who works at the barbershop two blocks away from my apartment.  Tony is a great barber. He's been a pro for almost 40 years, has a steady hand and a graceful banter, and didn't bat an eyelash when a woman in a dress and jacket walked into his shop and asked him to shave off all of her hair (though he did request a permission slip from my mother.)

Fifteen minutes and three sets of clippers later, I had a shapely, shorn 'do -- which will grow out to be the light, airy, wispy pixie I originally wanted in about ten days.

How rebellious.

Although I am thinking about growing out the eventual-pixie to a mild faux-hawk in time for Thanksgiving. Could be really cute to wear with my black pinstriped suit and a pair of purple converse.  Think I could give my nephews a run for their money?

(Many thanks to the amazing Wendy for carrying a camera everywhere she goes, and interrupting my Friday morning to snap photos. Also, if you like the Lilly Pulitzer scarf, you can get one of your own to support the fight against breast cancer at The Hope Shop!)

First published at expetesso.com

Travels in Miniature

For all that I'm a hopeless romantic, I'm not a big fan of travel -- I'm more of a home-loving person (with a rather large, fluid definition of "home").

I am, though, a tremendously committed fan of trains. I am currently sitting on a MetroNorth train, listening to German pop music, being gently educated about symplectic cobordism theory, crocheting with sunshine-colored yarn, and admiring the stunningly gorgeous view of greenery against the slate-gray choppiness of the Hudson River. I can't think of anything in the world that would make me happier at this very moment than just this.

Unless it be reaching Beacon to see Phoebe, whom I haven't seen since Christmas, and introduce her to Corrin, and spend an afternoon and evening wandering a little town and sipping tea and talking about poetry and plotting how we'll all three save the world.

Happy weekend, dear friends.

First published at expetesso.com

Mittens!

I finished crocheting my winter mittens on Friday.

I'm sure that it sounds silly to hear me say that I spent the hottest July on record in New York City making winter garments, but there is a logic to it -- I swear. Yearning for fall to arrive with crisp air and foggy mornings and fingers nipped to numbness by the cold, it helps to spend a few hours thinking about the gloriousness of early tart apples while running thick, soft wool through my fingers -- doing so effectively cooled me off and calmed me down from the "argh, too hot!" temper tantrums. It's kind of like eating ice cream in January; a psychological equalization.

Separate from needing to think about something other than the weather, I needed to take a break from the now-more-than-half-finished and yet seemingly interminable Doctor Who Scarf and actually make something I could finish. Baby gifts are detailed enough to still be deeply in progress, and I couldn't schedule my first Boutique knitting lesson from my super-talented friend Angela until tonight (I'm casting on for the Side Slip Cloche in less than two hours!) -- therefore a one-skein crochet project was required.

Enter Crocheted Gifts: Irresistible Projects to Make and Give, with the lovely Mitts for the Whole Family pattern by Kathy Merrick. Enter a gorgeous, super-soft skein of Malabrigo Worsted yarn in the geranio colorway. Enter a K hook.

Other than some mild frustration I had with the thumb piecing, I found this a lovely pattern to work with. The fit is completely custom -- I added two extra rounds of shell pattern to the cuffs, so that they will stay tucked into my coat sleeves and keep out chill winds this winter, and extended the length of the thumb and mitten portion to fit my grotesquely long fingers without the threat of poking holes in the tips -- and was managed by adding extra rounds without requiring any adjustments for shaping.

Bring on the snow -- I'm ready to make and defend a fort with icy munitions!

Mitten

Mittens

Cuff Detail

First published at expetesso.com