Books, Books, Books

I love visiting people's homes--they say so much about them. And my two favorite things to view when I am a guest? People's pictures and their books. I'm always peering closely at framed photos and browsing through book titles at others' homes whenever I have the chance. I'm fascinated by the stories of people's lives--including the stories they read.

This sometimes leads me to wonder. . . what does my bookshelf say about me? No doubt Dan and I are book lovers; there is one wall in our office that is nothing but books. There is also no doubt that it would take someone all of two seconds to figure out which shelves hold my books and which hold Dan's. His are filled almost exclusively with fiction and are a mix of the absurd, dark humor, surrealism, satire, and fantasy (I feel the need to clarify that this fantasy is not of the dragon persuasion).

My books are an almost 50/50 mix of fiction and nonfiction. . . some social work textbooks, other books on social justice and social issues, books on green living and socially responsible investing, books on finances, books on vegetarianism, books on health and fitness, and some books on spirituality. On the fiction side, I have some literary classics (e.g., Sense and Sensibility and Leaves of Grass), some children's classics (e.g., Anne of Green Gables and Little Women), some comfort books (e.g., Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day), Harry Potter, the Twilight series, and relatively mainstream contemporary fiction (e.g., The Time Traveler's Wife, Wally Lamb, Eat, Pray, Love). My top shelf holds books I've bought or received as gifts but haven't yet read; among these are a biography of Thomas Jefferson, Sophie's World, The Shipping News, and Isabel Allende's Daughter of Fortune.

In many ways, my bookshelf is a pretty accurate reflection of me and what I read. In other ways, though, it misses the mark. A few years ago, I stopped buying so many books. As much as I love having books in my home, I rarely read books more than once, as I simply can't wait to get to all of the other books on my list. In my efforts to reduce consumption and clutter, buying fiction started to feel silly--why not just get it from the library if I'm only going to read it one time? While I love the feel and smell of a new book (especially if it has a divinely soft cover and just-waiting-to-be-thumbed pages), it stopped making sense to buy so many. These days, I tend to buy mostly nonfiction (for reference) and save my fiction for trips to the library, though I do buy fiction from time to time, especially if it's something that I anticipate that I will love or that I will want to read again. And, as much as I love a beautiful wall of books, the reality is we're probably all going to be reading our books on electronic devices in the future anyway (shudders).

Last night, I was looking at my "to read" list, which I keep on Library Thing, and realized that it might be an even more accurate description of the current me than what's on my bookshelf at home. So, here's a virtual trip to my house to take a peek at my bookshelf. Maybe you'll get a little insight into me. And tell me what's on your shelf, too!

I have 133 books on my "to read" list right now (hence why I can't bring myself to reread much), but here's a random sample. . . .

• Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life - Barbara Kingsolver
• The Art of Happiness - The Dalai Lama
• Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream - Barbara Ehrenreich
  
• The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
• The Color of Water: A Black Man's Tribute to His White Mother - James McBride
• Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant - Anne Tyler
• Eleanor of Aquitaine: A Life - Alison Weir
• The End of Overeating: Taking Control of the Insatiable North American Appetite - David Kessler
• The House of Mirth - Edith Wharton
• In Search of Grace: A Journey Across America's Landscape of Faith - Kristin Hahn
• The Invention of Everything Else - Samantha Hunt
• Love in the Time of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
• Macbeth - Shakespeare
• Middle Church: Reclaiming the Moral Values of the Faithful Majority from the Religious Right - Bob Edgar
• My Mistress's Sparrow is Dead: Great Love Stories, from Chekhov to Munro - Jeffrey Eugenides
  
• Possessing the Secret of Joy - Alice Walker
• River Town: Two Years on the Yangtze - Peter Hessler
  
• The Thing About Life Is That One Day You'll be Dead - David Shields
• Unaccustomed Earth - Jhumpa Lahiri
• Uncommon Grounds: The History of Coffee and How It Transformed Our World - Mark Pendergrast
• Unfaithful Angels: How Social Work Has Abandoned Its Mission - Harry Specht
• Valley of the Dolls - Jacqueline Susann (Yes, it's really on my list, just in case you thought I was getting too serious.)
  

Hair

My hair has had a tumultuous life. First there were the lopsided pigtail years of childhood (one pigtail in a perfect spiral, the other a big poofball). Then there were the oh-so-scary middle school years, when no one told me that brushing and blow-drying curly hair will make you look like a mushroom-headed idiot. I tried to get it right in eighth grade, when I followed the advice of a magazine and braved a haircut with layers. But the layers were way too short, and I ended up looking like Mozart. I wore my hair in a ponytail for almost a year until the layers grew back.

In high school, I started to get it right. I stopped trying to make my hair straight. I put the hair dryer away for good. But I still had not learned the oh-so-important lessons regarding hair products. I mostly used gel, and I usually ended up with slick-looking, crunchy curls. When Dan first saw my senior photo, he commented that I looked Hispanic (I couldn't help but agree and laugh).

In college, I learned to do a little more experimenting with hair products, but I never found the right one. Creams didn't have enough hold. Mousses didn't keep my hair from getting frizzy. Gels and hairsprays were still a sticky disaster. I usually ended up using a combination of products, hoping each morning that I would magically stumble upon the perfect recipe for soft, bouncy curls. It never really happened. Each morning, I just did the best I could.

This continued for many years, along with my continued ignorance of the fact that it might be time to graduate beyond $15 haircuts. I finally shelled out the dough for a salon visit while I was living in Nashville, and I was thrilled with the results. Yet another important hair lesson learned, but the search for the right hair product continued with no end in sight.

My first semester in graduate school, it finally came to me. After a cut, my stylist used Pureology Power Dressing on my hair, and I could tell that I was in love. It gave me good hold, but wasn't crunchy. It kept my frizz under control, but wasn't sticky. On top of that, it made my hair shiny. It was more than I was used to paying for a hair product, but I remembered the lesson of the get-what-you-pay-for haircuts, and took a bottle home with me.

I've relied on this hair product for almost five years now. I still don't have perfect hair, but I feel confident that I'm about as close as I'm going to get (which is still far from perfect, but I've learned to love my hair for what it is, on most days). I order it in large quantities (to simultaneously stock up and qualify for free shipping), and I placed my most recent order on May 3.

After I placed my order, I waited. And waited. I checked on my order status and learned that the item was on back order. Nervous as I watched my product supply dwindle away, I decided to wait, reassured with promises that the order was expected within seven days. A week passed. Then two. Then three. Then came one of scariest hair moments in recent memory. . . I was out of hair product. Silly as it may seem, after my years of searching for just the right product, this put me into a minor state of panic. I felt silly visiting a salon just to pick up a bottle, and I knew better than to start the search for a substitute, so I gave in, bought a $4 hair product at Target, and mostly wore my hair in a ponytail while awaiting the arrival of my product of choice.

Yesterday, I was thrilled to find a package waiting for me when I arrived home from work. I tore it open, grabbed the bottles from the box, and spun around in happiness. When Dan got home from work, I ran over to him, exclaiming, "My hair product is here!" I even insisted that he look at it, shiny and new in the box.

I realize how silly all of this is, but I couldn't believe how lost I felt in the weeks when I didn't have my favorite product; it was like my hair security blanket was gone, and I had to resist flashbacks of being the awkward, frizzy-haired, can't-quite-get-it-right wonder. I'm sure one day I'll look back at pictures of myself and decide that my hair looks ridiculous and that the product I'm using is totally wrong. I don't know what I'll do when they inevitably discontinue it. But for now, I am so very happy to have my good-hair-day potion in hand once more.

Now I just need to work on scheduling an embarrassingly overdue haircut. . . .

More Produce Obsessions

I realize that I am probably boring the hell out of you talking about my damn produce. Still, I can't help the joy it brings me, so bear with me if you can.

Our second CSA delivery brought the following: broccoli, chard, lettuce, sweet onions, parsley, rosemary, baby spinach, and garlic scapes. (Garlic scapes were new to us--they look like little green whips and taste like garlicky green onions.)

We used some of the rosemary to make a delicious rosemary-infused olive oil, then used the rest of the rosemary and some parsley to make a yummilicious pesto on Sunday night. Mmmmm.

On Saturday morning, I headed over to the farmers' market, determined to get the last of the strawberries. I bought two quarts of them, two pounds of cherries, and some peas, all of which are probably coming to their end this season.

I froze most of the strawberries. Here they are, spread out on a pan, waiting to go in the freezer. I thought they looked so pretty that I decided to take a picture.

Using the ones that were a little too soft for the freezer, I made some strawberry bread. I'm still learning some of the ins and outs of vegan baking, but I decided to be brave and make some vegan substitutions to a standard recipe. Luckily, it turned out moist and delicious.

I am really loving the excitement of each new CSA delivery and of each new trip to the farmers' market. I've always tried to eat locally when I can, but having better access to markets and being able to join a CSA is really changing the way I think about my food, and I couldn't be happier.

Signs that Philly Is Starting to Feel Like Home

• I no longer call Interstate 76 "76." I call it "The Schuykill," short for The Schuykill Expressway, which is how locals refer to 76.

• I know how to pronounce "Schuykill."

• I can ride the train without worrying that I'll never locate the right track at the station or that I'll miss my stop (the trains are surprisingly old-school, and if the conductor doesn't call the name of a stop, it can be hard to tell where you are sometimes).
  

• I have my CSA membership and make regular trips to the farmers' market. There's definitely something to be said for eating local food that makes you feel more connected to the region in which you live.

• I recognize street names on the traffic and news reports at least some of the time. Same for neighborhoods and townships (there are literally hundreds).
  

• When I was talking to a client recently, I said the word "Saturday" and I actually heard a Philly accent in my voice. It would take millions of years of living here for me to ever sounds like a Philadelphian, but just hearing a little bit of the dialect fall from my mouth was a weird moment.
  

• I can go most places I need to go without feeling panicked if I left my GPS at home.

• I'm going to start doing volunteer work for Art-Reach in August, which not only gives me another way to feel connected to the community, but will also give me a fantastic opportunity to learn all about Philadelphia-area arts venues.
  

• The other day, I told Dan, "Let's go get hoagies." I actually said the word "hoagie" like this is a normal word.
  

I Keep Wanting to Post. . .

but I am just too tired and/or lazy to get around to it lately. My weekend was lovely but generally uneventful. Work is having its ups and downs but, overall, is going just fine. I saw the two most beautiful white cats (one with green eyes, one with blue) up for adoption at PetSmart. I made rhubarb muffins over the weekend. I've just started reading the next book on my summer list. I finally concluded the search for new running shoes. I miss seeing my family.

These are the random thoughts occupying my brain. And now, my friends, it's off to bed.

Eating Alone

Most of the time, my job is pretty low-stress, but I definitely have days where I feel like everything is coming at me at once. Last Friday, I had a particularly overwhelming day. I was feeling exhausted and low on energy, and by the middle of the day I was not in the mood to chit-chat with my coworkers, or in fact with anyone. I immediately felt the need to get out of the office, so I headed over to Target during my lunch break, where I visited the snack bar for a drink and a little treat.

While standing in line, an older man--probably in his mid-70s--started talking with me. Though I usually welcome these friendly conversations with strangers, I was exhausted and in desperate need of some no-talk time. We chatted for just a bit, discovering our mutual love of Dr. Pepper. After filling up our drinks at the soda dispenser, he sat at his table and I sat at mine.

As I tried to enjoy the last few minutes of my break before heading back to the office, I watched the man across the room, slowly sipping his Dr. Pepper and watching the people around him. It occurred to me that he might be lonely, and that he might have wanted a friendly conversation. I only had about five minutes left before I had to leave, and I was just too tired that day to strike up another conversation (sometimes the introvert in me cannot muster any more talking after a day spent on the phone with clients). On another day, I might have walked over to his table and we could have talked. I imagined the conversations we might have, and what wisdom he might have imparted. What might we have talked about? What might I have learned?

This evening, I had the same experience of watching an older man sitting alone, drinking his soda, looking a bit lonely. Of course, this is not to say that these men were lonely--perhaps, like me, they were enjoying their moment of quiet, happily watching the people around them and content to have the time to themselves. But how strange it feels sometimes that we sit alone at tables, watching one another, wondering if the other might like company. In another time, it's quite possible that I would have talked to these men because I would have known their names. We would have lived in the same town, visited the same corner cafe, gone to the same church. Instead, we sit anonymously in chain restaurants, choosing to eat alone rather than walking up to the other and asking to share a table. I looked out the window and watched a person eating dinner in her car.

We learn at an early age not to talk to strangers, and of course there is some wisdom to that. But I'm thinking that maybe I should talk more to strangers. That the strangers I need to worry about are not the ones sitting in a public place during my lunch hour. That maybe it wouldn't hurt to sit across from the man trying to forge connections over a mutual liking of Dr. Pepper. That maybe I might learn a little something, or that it might even be something special.

Saturday in the City

Amazingly, despite the wonderful abundance of vegetables we received from our first CSA delivery, we realized we needed more produce to get us through the week. Luckily, the Farmers' Market was open yesterday morning with the thing I craved the most--strawberries! We picked up a few other goodies as well, including some local kale, asparagus, potatoes, and honey.

These strawberries looked and smelled so good that I told Dan I would marry them if I wasn't already married.

Technically, Dan and I live in the City of Philadelphia, but we don't live in Center City, which is the downtown area and home to most of the city action. Dan works in Center City, and we make it over there from time to time, but we haven't spent nearly as much time there as we would like. Yesterday, we decided to remedy that, and we hopped on the train to take us downtown for the afternoon.

First stop was City Hall, where a statue of William Penn sits atop, overlooking the city (when it rains, it looks like he is peeing on the city, but that is neither here nor there). We had hoped to take the elevator to the top, which offers a fantastic view, but sadly the Hall is not open on weekends. Instead, we walked through the lovely courtyard and caught glimpses of dozens of skateboarders and bikers doing tricks on the plaza.

From there, it was on to Rittenhouse Square and the surrounding area. This neighborhood is home to city folk who have millions to spend on amazing luxury apartments, brownstones, and grandiose row houses. Needless to say, I will never live there, but it was nice to dream about living on a beautiful street like this in the heart of the city.

We spent a lot of time walking around, popped into Borders for a while, and then proceeded to the highlight of the afternoon: a trip to Capogiro. When Dan and I visited Philly last fall, this gelato shop was near our hotel; it was so good that we went their twice during our four-day visit. If you ever visit me, I promise to take you there, where a small cup includes two flavors. Dan's choices: champagne mango and orange cardamom. Mine: black fig and dark chocolate (and they are serious when they say dark chocolate--they have the richest dark chocolate frozen concoction I have ever seen). The variety of original flavor combinations is just daunting (they have a total of 368, which they rotate), and I can't wait until my next visit when I plan to try a favorite gelato flavor with espresso poured on top!

The Job

I'm just about one month into the new job. So far, so good. Of course, it's not perfect, and of course I still have the rosy perspective of a newbie, but I am definitely happy (trust me, this is a big change in my life). Here are a few things I love about it so far. . . .

• My coworkers rock, and everyone is so focused on our mission. People seem to really care about what they do, and it's great to feel like part of a powerhouse working to help people move out of poverty.

• My office building is broken into little "suites," and all the coworkers in my suite happen to hate overhead office lighting, which is something I also loathe. Instead, we all turn off the overhead lights and use lamps. It feels so much more like a home office than an office building, and I am able to avoid migraine-inducing fluorescent lighting.

• I am totally getting the green light to run with my own ideas, to take the program in new directions, and to build my job duties around my strengths and interests. In some respects, my job is design-your-own job, and I have so many exciting projects ahead of me that are going to give me tremendous experience.

• Because we have to track so much outcome data for our programs, I spend a lot of time organizing things--creating spreadsheets, managing data and paperwork, etc. Even though sometimes this part of my job feels like glorified secretarial work, I secretly love it. I'm all about creating order, my friends, and I gain much satisfaction from my pretty spreadsheets.
  

• Most social service jobs--and many jobs like it--can feel so thankless at times. While you often work with many wonderful clients, you also tend to come across clients who are manipulative, have a sense of entitlement, or just don't have the ability to recognize the value of services (e.g., people with severe developmental disabilities). Among other things, my job involves enrolling low-income healthcare workers in free education and training programs so that they can advance their careers and make higher wages. In the last month, I have heard the words, "Thank you" and "Bless you" countless times when enrolling students in our classes. I think I have been blessed more times in the last month than I have been blessed in my entire life. Trust me, that is really something. And it really makes me feel like what I'm doing is so worthwhile.

• As added bonues: regular hours, great benefits, a lovely neighborhood for taking strolls during my lunch hour on beautiful spring days, and a two-story Target right down the street. I really do love that Target.
  

The Vegetables Are Here!

I picked up our first CSA share today. I'm so excited that I felt the need to take a picture and share the vegetables with you: kale, lettuce, a cucumber, arugula, beets (with the greens), green onions, garden peas, chives, and fresh mint. I am a girl who loves her greens, so I am super excited. We are already looking forward to getting creative with what we receive each time.

In additional exciting news, the Farmers' Market two blocks from our house opens on Friday, where I'm sure we can get our hands on some more strawberries along with some other local goodies (more rhubarb! more asparagus! more cheese!). This. is. awesomeness.