Pearls of Wisdom from "The Other Guys"

I find inspiration in everything -- music, food, art, literature, meditation, and oftentimes, people. In the January issue of Esquire, the magazine imparts a refreshing twist on its monthly feature, The Meaning of Life - What I've Learned, and interviews "The Other Guys," a collection of 15 slightly unexpected people (yes, women too) who share some mighty fine pearls of wisdom and interesting personal anecdotes. 

So inspired by some of the quotes by these "other guys" I thought it was worthy of sharing them here.  In no particular order, here are some of my favorites:

• "A lazy man works twice as hard. . . . If you're writing an essay, keep it in the lines and in the margins so you don't have to do it over." - Gary Oldman, Actor, 53
• "It seems to me that at nineteen or twenty, a young man is burning to be great at something.  I was.  You have a vision that's beyond the neighborhood.  You want to make a mark while you're alive.  You don't know exactly your future, but you want to be great at it.  And greatness is an important word.  And you dare not tell anybody how extreme and how burning are your visions, because you don't want anybody to mess with them." - Art Garfunkel, Singer, 70

• "You don't order an egg-salad sandwich at a Chinese restaurant.  And you don't order the chicken piccata at Jerry's Deli." - Jon Cryer, Actor, 46
•  "The secret of life is to be surrounded by people who get you -- just the people who get you." - Jeffrey Tambor, Actor, 67
•  "People don't know the real you unless you tell them" and "I really don't have a problem with age, because there's nothing we can do about it." Vanna White, Game-show hostess, 54 

•  "To say we weren't spoiled as kids would be asinine, right? But we were spoiled in ways that are probably beneficial to an individual's growth.  We were very well traveled.  We spoke multiple languages.  We were around fascinating people who were making history.  We got to experience things that other people didn't experience.  But we were never spoiled financially.  That kept us out of a lot of trouble." - Donald Trump, Jr., Businessman, 33
• "It's not something you can find.  There's a moment you arrive at -- there's no words for it.  A bunch of people come together at this place where a note hits your heart and your brain tells your finger where to go.  It's an otherworldly thing, like when a painter gets the right combination of colors together. - Slash, Guitarist, 46
• "My dad used to say, 'You know you're a success when you look at your kids and realize they turned out better than you." - Joe Biden, Vice President, 69

All photos from Esquire.com.

Humble Review: The Perfect Lipstick

I admit it. I'm a girlie girl (albeit a pretty opinionated one) in all the cliched senses of the word. I like clothes; I like perfume; I like handbags; I like magazines. And, for the record I don't really care if there are pink Legos marketed to girls, because honestly, I like the color pink. (But, I also like the colors red, blue, and yellow, too, and in this day and age, aren't we raising our girls and boys to know that they are free to play with whatever colored Legos they want to play with, be they pink or primary-colored? Despite my girlie-girl bent, I played with the traditional primary-colored ones as a child -- although I probably would've chosen pink ones had they been available at the time.) But, I am digressing here, and dating myself, because what I really want to write about is lipstick.

Natural lipstick.

I found The One this past weekend shopping in Boston. From the Pure Color line of lipsticks by Estee Lauder, The One is a creamy, moisture-packed stick in a neutral color called Rose Tea (how perfect is that?) that complements my pale skin perfectly. As soon as I applied it at Saks, the sales lady said, "Wow, that really brings out your eyes." That's what they're supposed to say, but my husband agreed. What really sold me was the way the lipstick made me feel: sexy, sassy, and confident, without looking like I was trying too hard, the way that wearing bright red lipstick, false eyelashes, or stiletto heels can seem.

At $25, the lipstick was probably a bit of a splurge, but for something that I will wear on an almost daily basis, I say it's worth it, because what the hell -- it makes me feel like a million bucks! With a subtle apricot scent, the lipstick is moisturizing while imparting a nice long-wearing pigment on the lips. It's the perfect marriage of special and practical. 

Estee Lauder Pure Color Lipstick.

Growing up, my mom always used Estee Lauder, and now that I'm an adult I find myself drawn to the brand for certain products (namely the foundation and serums, and well, now the lipsticks too). While I can sometimes be a product rebel (not wanting to use something that people I know already use) I'm now compelled to Estee Lauder because the line offers what I've discovered the lipstick to be -- that appeal of both the special and the practical.

Now what would really knock the lipstick out of the park is if it had a little flip-out mirror for on-the-go application, but that would probably be asking for too much, now wouldn't it? Oh, well. A girl can dream.

Humble Review: Boston's Parish Cafe

Something that never fails to surprise me is that Bostonians eat lunch really late on Sundays, like almost when us other New Englanders are about to eat dinner. When we showed up at the Parish Cafe, an eatery known for its various sandwiches created by area celebrity sandwiches, for an early dinner before our 5 p.m. train, the place was buzzing with twenty- and thirty-somethings. Despite the abundant crowd, however, there was no wait, and we were seated at a small table by the bar.

Front entrance to Parish Cafe on Boylston St. in Boston, MA.

Tight space though it may have been, the atmosphere was fun -- soul tunes by the likes of Aretha, Lenny, and Stevie were being blasted at just the right octane and the bar was attractively displayed with glasses of all different types. The people-watching was amusing too. There was a couple clearly on their first awkward date directly across from us and lots of other interesting folk to observe.

The beer mugs at Parish Cafe.

The menu, a two-sided foodie's delight, was slightly overwhelming simply because I wanted to try everything. I settled on the The Harrington, described by the Cafe's menu as a romaine salad containing fresh mint, diced cucumbers, sliced red onions, Kalamata olives (I ordered mine san), and feta cheese tossed with a fresh lemon-olive oil dressing and served over grilled Syrian bread. My mate ordered The Benny, a creation by the infamous Ken Oringer of the world-renown eatery, Clio. The sandwich was Vietnamese inspired and consisted of grilled chicken breast sandwich on a hard baguette with veggies and a mint-coriander sauce. Sided with a spicy purple cabbage slaw tossed with tomatoes, fresh mint, Thai basil and cracked peanuts. I had more than my share, and it was delicious, especially if you enjoy Vietnamese fare as much as we do.

According to Zagat rating guidelines, I would give Parish Cafe a 23 for Food, 21 for Decor, and a 17 for Service, the restaurant's weakest link. Here, you're served by multiple people, which isn't really a problem except that none of servers seemed like they wanted to be there at all, despite the inspired playlist. Oh, and the place was hotter than a sauna, which is saying something for someone who's always complaining of being cold. Regardless, I'll be going back to this hot little ticket.

Does Haste Really Make Waste? (The Anatomy of a Rusher.)

I have a confession, if you don't already know: I have a tendency to rush through creative time.  I’ve blogged about the whole journey vs. destiny thing before, but because it’s something I continually struggle with, I am compelled to write about it again. It’s not a New Year’s resolution to work on rushing less (more of a lifetime personal goal to work on), because as you know I am not a big believer in setting these kinds of January resolutions, and instead aim for more realistic ones; however, I think my rushing gets the best of me sometimes, and the worst of me, I suppose (but that’s for another day and time).

My rushing is particularly evident when I’m blogging, which for me is my creative time, my soul time. I write fast and swift because I want to get it all out there before I lose my train of thought or run out of the limited time and energy I have for such precious pursuits. While I am a perfectionist in many ways, in this situation my rushing takes precedence over my perfection. The mantra I tell myself is: if I have to choose between Consistency (albeit with flaws) or Inconsistency (with perfection), I’ll take the Consistency because otherwise the writing might not happen as regularly, or at all, even. 

But sometimes when I go back and read my blogs there are spelling errors and punctuation blunders. And, in many cases, I find my blog entries to be harried sounding and rushed. In my constant attainment of both consistency and perfection, this bothers me, because my blog entries wind up not being representative of my best writing, and as someone who has two degrees in English, my writing is something I have a bit of pride about.  In that sense, I feel like I'm shortchanging myself.

But then when I reflect more on it, I realize that it's an okay thing if not every blog entry is a masterpiece.  After all, isn't the original definition of a blog to be a "web-based log," a journal of sorts? More importantly, if I had to choose (and sometimes in life we do have to choose), I’d rather have some kind of voice (even if it's a sometimes inarticulate, fast-talking one at times) as opposed to no voice at all. 

We all have a voice, and we need to be able to use it.

A New Year, and Just One New Resolution

It’s that time of year when everyone’s thinking about New Year’s Resolutions, diets, workout regimens, and cleaning closets (myself included).  While I am all for self-improvement, a long list of to-dos, and to-bes for that matter, can get very overwhelming, and therefore unattainable.  That is why I’ve decided to set just one goal for the New Year, rather than multiple goals as I’ve done in previous years.  My new philosophy is that setting a goal that is achievable, even if it is a less ambitious goal than what I might otherwise want to set for myself, is more realistic and will likely result in success rather than failure.  (I hate failure -- don't you?)

After all, what’s the point in a New Year’s resolution if it lasts only a few weeks? 

That’s why, out of all the resolutions that I’ve pondered over the past few days, Working on improving my posture is the one that might actually last through February, and better yet, be one that I’ll remember.  A ridiculous New Year’s resolution, you might say?  I beg to differ.  First, improving posture is one of those things that can benefit other aspects of well-being: decreasing back pain, upping one's confidence, increasing oxygen flow, and well, let’s be honest here – it makes you look thinner.  And, second, it’s the kind of resolution that is almost impossible to give up on. 

Though many of us strive for perfection in various aspects of our life – the New Year being the pinnacle in which we strive for attainment of that perfection – why can’t we settle, or better yet, accept our flaws?  Chinese philosophy says that lifelong self-improvement is generally a natural byproduct of self-acceptance and increased self-awareness.  Anxiety over our imperfections is never very productive, especially since some of our imperfections are uncontrollable anyway. 

And really, why do we need a New Year to have a clean closet or two?  

The Significance of Exchanging Holiday Cards

One of my favorite things about the holiday season is receiving Christmas cards from friends and family, particularly those that I haven't heard from in the past year.  There's something sacred and intimate about sending and receiving during this time of year, when life is so busy and hectic, that we take the time to handwrite our best wishes and news updates for the past year to the people in our lives we care about.  It may be the only time of year we take the time to exchange these niceties, which is why the exchange of holiday cards is so special. 

For almost as many years as I have been sending out holiday cards in my adult life, I have been sending a card to my former 4th grade teacher, Miss Levesque.  I hate to cast favorites, since I have had many good teachers (as well as some rather crummy ones) in my student career, but Miss Levesque wins 1st Prize, which is in part why out of the 35 or so cards I send out (which were probably even less this year), she is a recipient every holiday season.

Though the messages we exchange are not long, Miss Levesque and I share with each other the goings-on for the past year -- where we've been, what we're doing, where we're going -- and more importantly the shared sentiment of wishing each other a happy holiday and a healthy new year.  Every year I look forward to her card written in her idyllic, old-fashioned scroll, exactly how I remembered it from well over a decade ago. 

This year Miss Levesque's card contained a rare treat -- a photograph of my 11-year-old self, standing next to my science fair project that year entitled, "Observing Different Kinds of Hair Under a Microscope."  Wearing a headband and a purple t-shirt (how I loved that t-shirt -- I wore the thing 'til it had holes in it!), bangs cut into wispies like Vada Sultenfuss from My Girl, that was the year of the microscope for me, as well as the year for tween shyness when everything seemed to make me blush.  It's quite amazing to think how a photo can contrast and compare with how we remembered such a time in our lives.

With Christmas behind me, and a New Year fast approaching, I am thankful for the people in my past, present, and future, particularly people like Miss Levesque who are part of my past and continue to be part of my present and future life, even through a simple exchange of a card at Christmastime, in the years ahead.

'Tis the Season for Cookies

I wish I made cookies more than twice a year, but I don't because I simply have no self-control around them.  I am the human-sized Cookie Monster, googly eyes and all.  From the potentially salmonella-laden dough (I know, I know -- I am aware of the risks), to the slightly underbaked cookies that come straight from the oven and whose flavors aren't fully realized yet, to the one-day-old cookie that is the perfect coupling of both tender and crumbly -- each life stage of the cookie is dear to me.

My excuse whenever I make cookies is that they're not for myself but for others.  I feel less guilty this way, even if -- let's be honest -- the cookies are kind of for myself, too.  The truth is, I might even like cookie dough more than the finished product itself, but I am an equal opportunist.  When the dough's all rolled up into pre-cookies, I will long for them to be baked, when I can pluck one from the cooling rack, and pop it into my mouth, still too hot that it burns my tastebuds.  (No matter, though; it's worth it!)

I love all cookies, from frosting-covered sugar cookies to pecan sandies to chocolate crinkles, but I am especially gaga for chewy ginger cookies, especially this recipe, which I spent my Friday night making for friends and coworkers, and yes, for myself too.   

Soft Ginger Cookies

Ingredients

• 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons ground ginger
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup vegetable shortening (preferably non-trans fat)
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 egg
• 1 tablespoon water
• 1/4 cup molasses
• 2 tablespoons white sugar

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Sift together the flour, ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, cloves, and salt. Set aside.
2. In a large bowl, cream together the shortening and 1 cup sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the egg, then stir in the water and molasses. Gradually stir the sifted ingredients into the molasses mixture. Shape dough into walnut sized balls, and roll them in the remaining 2 tablespoons of sugar. Place the cookies 2 inches apart onto an ungreased cookie sheet, and flatten slightly.
3. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes in the preheated oven. Allow cookies to cool on baking sheet for 5 minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely. Store in an airtight container.