"People do not come to Greece to rest. They come to gain their days."

Get comfortable, it's story time. Today's feature presentation is the myth of Persephone (as told my Sue Monk Kidd in Traveling with Pomegranates:

"The maiden Persephone, is picking flowers in a meadow when a hole opens up in the earth and up charges Hades, lord of the dead, who abducts Persephone into the underworld. Unable to find her daughter, Demeter, the great earth Goddess of grain, harvest and fertility, lights a torch and scours the earth. After nine futile days of searching, Demeter is approached by Hecate, the quintessential old crone and Goddess of the crossroads and the dark moon, who explains that her daughter has been abducted.

In a rage and too dejected to keep up her divine duties, Demeter lets the crops wither and the earth becomes a wasteland. She disguises herself as an old woman and travels to the town of Eleusis, where she sits beside a well in despair. Zeus tries to talk some sense into her. Hades will make a nice son-in-law, he says. She needs to lighten up and let the crops grow. Demeter will not budge.

The earth becomes so desolate Zeus finally gives up and orders Persephone returned to her mother. As Persephone prepares to leave, however, she unwittingly swallows some pomegranate seeds, which ensures her return to the underworld for a third of each year.

 

Mother and daughter are reunited on the first day of spring... When Demeter learns about the fateful pomegranate, her joy is tempered, but she stops her mourning and allows the earth to flourish again. After all, her daughter is back. Not the same innocent girl who tripped through the meadow picking flowers, but a woman transfigured by her experience.”

When I was in younger, my mom decided it would be a good idea to put me in Greek school. She would drive me to the Greek Orthodox church a few towns over and pick me up after a few hours of intense Helenic immersion. We had language classes, history classes and even dance classes. I learned the Greek national anthem. I performed in plays and dance recitals. It was very intense. But I loved it. I felt special (and no M, not eat the paste special) because I was the only one of my siblings to go to Greek school. It was a really nice way to connect with my dad and learn more about his country and culture. And it doesn't hurt that my dad still boasts (more than 10 years later) that I won $50 for being the best student in my class.

The best history lessons were the ones that included Greek mythology. One of my favorite myths was about Persephone. It's a basic tale about "empty nest" syndrome. But instead of calling Persephone's phone incessantly and sending text messages that say, "are u ok? call home" (like my mom), Demeter (P's mom) is so distraught over her missing daughter that she falls behind on all her responsibilities and basically lets nature go to shit. I can't even imagine what kind of state the world would be if my my mom had mythical powers....*shudder*

Anyway...I had forgotten about this mythical tale until I stumbled upon it while reading Traveling with Pomegranates. A story about a mother and daughter, trying to come to terms with themselves and make some significant strides in self-discovery and self-acceptance. Kudos on this perfect pairing with Persephone's tale, Sue.

I have to be honest though, this book was not one of my favorites. Kidd is in her fifties and she's going on and on about how she's now an old woman, suffering through menopause. She makes these statements about losing her womanhood, accepting that death is right around the corner, etc. Unfortunately, I just could not relate to this older woman coming-of-age situation. I was expecting a fun tale about a mother and daughter gallivanting around Europe, getting into fun trouble and good-natured misadventures (kind of like what happens when my sisters and I go away with our mom). But, I guess I was wrong.

I know I'm not in my fifties, and I have no idea what it feels like to go through menopause and what it might do to your psyche in regards to your "womanhood", but I would hope that it didn't bring about this: take life too seriously, severe introspection that Kidd experienced at the time. I am in no way trying to diminish her journey. I just can't really understand it.

It was easier to relate to her daughter Ann. Yes, there were some moments where I felt stifled by both her and Kidd's uber-feminism (do we have to question everything?) but I was definitely able to enjoy/understand her twenty-something angst more.

All that being said, I did enjoy many parts of the book. One in particular is a moment where Kidd experiences an epiphany concerning her and Ann's paralleled self-discovery and sums it up with this: "Ann is new potential in search of ripening and I am ripening in search of new potential." I can dig this idea of a natural shift occurring once you reach a certain age. A cyclical rite of passage if you will.

I think that if you are looking for a book you can share with your mom, and are willing to overcome Kidd's (for lack of a better word) preachy moments, you might learn something new that could help you understand each other a little better, you know, woman to woman.


P.S. I also liked the fact that Kidd talks about her creative process while writing Secret Life of Bees. From a writer's (I use that term loosely) point of view, I appreciated that she also deals with writer's block and feelings of inadequacy and doubt, even with all her success. Gives a fledgling scribe some hope.

Audrey Niffenegger **Double Feature** Part II

It is time to bestow upon you another one of my obsessions: twins. It's possible that this might even be worse than my obsession with Jewish people. While I can't convince myself that I am a Jew (although my mom likes to point out that we are "a little German-Jewish" on her dad's side), I have yet to give up on the idea that I had/have a twin.

The conversation with my mom usually goes like this:

Me: Mom?

Mom: Yes, honey?

Me: Tell me the truth.....I had a twin right? She died at birth? You had to give her up? You can tell me. It's ok. I just need to know.

At which point my mom rolls her eyes and continues doing whatever she was doing before I interrupted her with my ridiculous question.

I have had close encounters with fulfilling my life long dream of twin-dom. My sister and I always get confused for each other, and on one family vacation, my mom even got asked how old her "twins" were, that has to be something right? Did I fail to mention we're 8 years apart? Mere technicality.

My second encounter is with my friend L. There are so many things in our lives that mirror each other, it's just uncanny. We both sang in high school, our parents are divorced, our names rhyme, our moms are from South America, we both went to BC, we both had boyfriends named Steven...the list goes on and on!

I don't know why I am so intrigued by this. I guess I like knowing that people can be connected even when they are not together just because they shared a womb. Like when you hear those stories about a set of twins being separated at birth and then when they find each other, they find out they broke the same bones when they were little, they grew up to have the same jobs, they have spouses with the same name, they have the same number of children....etc. It's just so freaking AWESOME!

So you can just imagine when I started reading Her Fearful Symmetry and found out that the main protagonists were twins, my heart fluttered with excitement. Even though it was Audrey Niffenegger and things got dark and weird, it didn't really matter because I got to feed my obsession. Of course, this book wasn't all about twins. It was about deception, family secrets, unhealthy dependence and ghosts.
I definitely recommend you read this!


Stop Reading If You Don't Want to Know What I Thought Of the Ending (I do not actually tell you what happens, just thought I've give you the option. I know how it is when someone tells you something vague about a book and then all you want to do when you're reading it, is know what the heck she or he was talking about):




Once again, Niffenegger didn't disappoint with her whacked out twist that filled me with anger and uncontainable rage. How could she do what she did?!?! I think I actually had to put the book down before I finished the last 70 pages because I just couldn't believe it. I mean I had been suspecting that something like that would happen, but really? REALLY? ....BREATHE......Even with all that anger and rage, I still would recommend this book, because it was a great read, and shouldn't we be having these passionate reactions to books no matter what side of the emotional spectrum they land on?

Take two and call me in the morning...

I am experiencing some writer's block. And it's not like I don't have material to write about. I mean, I just finished Her Fearful Symmetry (I'm thinking about a double feature piece, including Time Traveler's Wife, what do you think?), I'm almost done with Traveling with Pomegranates AND just this past weekend I went to Strand Bookstore in Union Square for the first time! I should be pouring out my jumbled thoughts and adventures to all of you, but for the past couple of days, it's been hard to sift through them.

Maybe writer's block is the wrong word...I'm experiencing writer's overflow. My brain is too full. If you looked inside my head right now you would probably see something like that scene in I Love Lucy with the conveyor belt and chocolates. I feel like I have a lot to say, but my pesky inner critic has been coming out to play. She's like the mean girl at school  who comes to knock your blocks over after you've just finished placing the top piece with a proud flourish.  So while I wrestle with my inner bully, I'll share a priceless conversation I had with my parents about my love life:

Me: I'm going to die alone.
Mom: What are you talking about? You are going to find a nice, successful, handsome, wonderful.....(then she goes off on her own tangent while my dad talks over her)
Dad: When it's the right time, you'll find the right man.
Mom: .....sexy man who will make you as happy as Daddy makes me. Maybe you should call your friend, S and go out to the discos with her? You have to put yourself out there!


Me: Ugh, I know all that, but... ***big sigh*** ....men are just big headaches.
Mom (nods in agreement): Yea, I know. But you'll find the right man to give you the right headaches.
Dad (appalled and defensive): What and you think women aren't headaches? Sometimes you just have to .......... learn how to take Tylenol.

"Food should be a source of joy, not agony. Exercise should be about enjoyable movement, not penitence. We should respect our bodies' wisdom."

I am not going to get all preachy and tell you that you should love your body. Because I would be a hypocrite. But, you should try to focus on the positive things about yourself, and not what you perceive to be the negative. I know it's hard...Lord knows, I know...but as soon as I find myself grimacing in the mirror, I really do try to find at least one thing that I am proud of. Like maybe I feel fat, but my hair looks luscious and shiny... when I'll think to myself, "DAMN, I am HOT!" and it makes me feel great ;)

When I was in college, I was determined not to gain the freshman 15. That dreaded number that every mom, aunt and grandmother warned me about before I went off to Boston. I took to going to the gym everyday for hours, eating only Special K for breakfast and dinner, and having a salad with chicken for lunch. Yogurt and pineapples were my "binge" items. By the time I went to bed, my mouth ached because of all the pineapple I devoured during the course of the day. But that is neither here nor there. I had an unhealthy relationship with the need to get skinny and the need to burn calories.

I was at my thinnest during my sophomore year. All that exercise had paid off! I was down to my goal weight (give or take 5 lbs). I wasn't emaciated or anything like that. I was not a bobble-headed girl, who was dead to the world. But something was happening. I looked good on the outside, while I suffered on the inside; until one day, my brain and my body went on strike.

Now, I can go back and forth attributing this crash to many things, but the one thing I know for sure is that my perverse lifestyle had caught up to me, and I needed a break.

That break has lasted for almost three years. And there have been times where I have been miserable because I stop and think, "Why did I just let it go?" I naively "remember" being the happiest I ever was, when I was squeezing myself into a size 4. But I guess hindsight is 20/20.

I was happy, because I didn't have to hear comments from my well-meaning family, about losing "5 more lbs", and I was happy because I could go straight to the size 6s and 4s in any clothing store. I was proud of the body I had sculpted. All that hard work, all those hours! It was great. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that I was obsessed. It wasn't my weight that was harmful, it was my mindset.

If I didn't go to the gym at least once a day, I felt miserable. I would beat myself up all day, trying to come up with ways to make up for my "laziness". I knew exactly how my clothes were supposed to fit and if there was anything that I thought was out of place, I would rush to the gym and try to make it right again. I couldn't think of any else. It consumed my every thought.

It has taken me a while to get to a place, mentally, where I am now going to the gym on my own terms. I am not doing it for my family. I am not doing it to prove anything to anyone. I know what I am comfortable with, I know where I want to be, and I know what is healthy for me. If I miss one day at the gym, I don't beat myself up. I balance it out, in a healthy way. I no longer have that aching pit in my stomach, that mean voice in my head telling me I'm not good enough. I feel even better than I did back then, because my joy and acceptance are genuine.

Reading Hungry, it was like having an opportunity to look at who I was back then. Like I said, I wasn't emaciated. I didn't stop eating altogether. So I can not go as far as to say that I know what Crystal Renn went through. But when you have that obsessive body-dismorphic mentality... it's like you are part of a club. A club that has no parties, because you'd then have to worry about whether or not you should eat that awesome guacamole or those delicious empanadas.

The writing is a bit elementary in this book, but the story is compelling. Renn is given an opportunity to model, if she loses weight. On her quest, she enters the obsessive world of anorexia. She slowly realizes modeling is not all it's cracked up to be. She loses her motivation, her hair and herself. And then she has, what Oprah likes to call, an A-HA! moment. She's not happy and doesn't want to suffer anymore, so why not become a plus-size model? Once she makes that decision, her career skyrockets. She gets more photo shoots then she ever did as a "straight-size" model. And most importantly she's happy.

Do you remember this ad? Her story is inspiring for women who have struggled with weight and she is role-model for girls who are suffering in the "straight-size" modeling world. And to top it all off, she is doing her best to break down the barriers for plus-size models.

"It's essential to see that size is only one of the battlefronts. Those of us who want to see more plus-size women represented in fashion should also be supporting the use of more women of color and age. There's strength and solidarity in numbers. Diversity helps us all. And thin people are not the enemy...We have to change the culture by rewarding and applauding diversity in all its forms, not by vilifying individual women."

100 Breakfasts, Coming Right Up!

Yet another goodreads giveaway!! Gotta love it when your friend* wins something and you reap the benefits! The responsibility of reading a giveaway book and writing up a review for others to use as a reference on goodreads makes me feel super important (simple pleasures, simple minds, I guess).

Here is my second effort at being a "critic" for goodreads.com:

If the first sentence of a book doesn't immediately draw me in, it can go one of two ways. Usually, if it is highly recommended by a friend, I will try my hardest to get past the first blunder, but if it doesn't get better after the first 50-100 pages* I have to make an executive decision about whether or not I want to continue torturing myself. More often than not, I will trudge my way through the bad pages and end up liking the remainder of the book.

That being said, I really enjoyed The Secret of Everything, even if the beginning did drag through an immense amount of foreshadowing. It was overpowering, but eventually I started cracking away at the actual story. Luckily, after I started to bring down those layers, I was rewarded with something that was both heartbreaking and uplifting.

What I loved about this book was the tight-knit community with small town superstitions that weaved through each chapter. Los Ladrones is marked by its past, but each character is concerned with moving forward. I really liked that eventually every one's story intertwined in some way. I do think that some of the story lines were a bit far fetched, but even with that they still managed to be refreshing. This book was both guarded and open, fresh and comforting.

Each instance lead someone to a turn of self-discovery. It didn't matter how hard or trying it was, the characters embraced their new findings with grace and awareness. People helping others with no expectation of something in return. You know, that's been a recurring theme in my life these past couple of weeks. Is it the universe telling me to be less selfish? Or more appreciative of the wonderful friends that I have who are truly that genuine in their selflessness?

There are two definite reasons I recommend a book. One is if the matter makes me stop and think about something bigger than myself. The other is if I find myself trying to avoid the end of the book. The first reason enables me to do that reflection thing that "adults" do so little of, due to life and other pressing responsibilities; and the other reason usually means that I don't want to leave the world I've encountered. I don't want to let go of my new friends. With that being said, I would probably still be reading this book, if I had been able to stretch out those last pages more than I already tried.

Happy New Year!.. I know I'm late!

It has been a busy start to the new year. Christmas came and went, New Year's was a blip on the radar and then came my birthday (with a pretty AWESOME birthday weekend full of fun -- post to follow).

I had to go to work and I started going to the gym....and my beautifully handsome nephew was born!.......so, do you see where I'm going with this??

I'm giving you a laundry list of excuses as to why I have not posted anything since 2009.

I really thought that I would catch up on my reading this holiday season. I mean what else is there to do then to catch up on made-for-tv movies with your family and snuggle up with a good book by the Christmas tree....or Menorah, I don't discriminate ;)

Well I was WRONG! One day it was Dec 1st, I blinked and it was the 24th and I was scrambling looking for presents for my whole family (umm that's like 12 people right there). Either way, it was great spending quality time with my crazy family, playing board games, watching movies and eating way too much. But it did not leave a lot of time for some "relaxing reading" time.

However, now that I'm settled into my NEW apt in Astoria (oh yea! and I moved!), I have had some time to get used to my new (30 minute!!!!) commute and have been able to pick up my biblio-addiction again.

Therefore, I still hold my New Year's resolution to be true, I will try my hardest to write a post at least every other day and at least once a month of them will be about my wonderfully unique family.....I'm just starting my new year a little late.....due to.....the Mayan calendar??

And just so you aren't left wanting, I will tell you that I did manage to squeeze in a few reads, one I won't bore you with (Rude Awakenings of a Jane Austen Addict by Laurie Viera Rigler) and a few that I will --posts to follow-- which include:

My Life In France by Julia Child and Alex Prud'homme

The Secret of Everything by Barbara O'Neal

Hungry by Crystal Renn

I'm a Boy!

Dear Mason Alexander,

Welcome!

We've been waiting a really long time to meet you!

Your mommy went into the hospital on January 12, 2010 and while you were working your way out to be here at 7:05 a.m. on January 13th, 2010, I would like you to know that I too was working myself out (at the gym) .....so we already have so much in common. (i.e. I'm your favorite aunt, right?)

It has been 8 1/2 long months that we've been waiting to see your handsome face, coming up with silly names to call you and wondering what you'll look like. Your big brother Jac could not stop telling all his friends and teachers that he was going to have a new baby brother.

When Jac was born, I was away at college so I didn't get to see him or hold him at the hospital, and I was pretty sad about that. But today, I drove with Tia Margie and Uncle Paul all the way to Long Island, and I got to see you up close! All bundled up, smelling good and looking peaceful. I got to witness your little lips turn up every time your mommy spoke and feel you wiggle in my arms as you found the best position to keep sleeping.

Your daddy sent us pictures of you throughout the day and I couldn't stop myself from smiling. Just thinking that we were going to have another little person running around, with the same mannerisms as one of your parents, had me bursting with joy.

FYI: We have a HUGE family, and although at times, it may seem overwhelming, you can never forget that we love you and Jac more than anything in the whole world. You have a lot of aunts and uncles who will be there for you whenever you need life advice, stock tips and a changed diaper. Use us, that's what we live for.

Are you wondering about your grandparents? Well, they're there to love you and spoil you rotten. You'll figure it out once you get a little older and Jac will be there to guide you every step of the way. And I don't know if you're worried or anything...you know all that time to think in the womb...but rest assured, Jac and you are going to be great friends. It might be a little rocky in the beginning, but he will always be there for you and he will love you unconditionally. Just remember what Grandma Yoli always says: Siblings are irreplaceable and irrevocable and they are your best friends for life.

Jan 13th will forever be one of the happiest days of our lives.

Welcome to the world! I love you :)

Love,

Your Tia Christy

P.S. Try not to confuse me with Tia Margie...we really don't look that much alike!

Hola, hola!

I've been at my new job for a little over two months and just when I was beginning to think that I would never make friends at work (besides my boss), I got invited to join a book club. Then on Monday the same girl - my new friend - came to my cubicle and gave me a goodie bag with Christmas cookies! That is almost as good as a Facebook friend request for friendship confirmation right? I mean only friends get holiday cookies? I will take your scrolling as a yes. Anyway she gave me these delicious shortbread cookies and it got me thinking about what I usually do for new friends or co-workers around the holidays.

Normally, when the holidays came around I knew exactly what to get. The perfect gift was a tin of my Tia Nelly's alfajores (delicious, melt-in-your-mouth, Peruvian cookies). These cookies were ideal for thank yous and for holiday and birthday gifts. We always had a batch for the dessert table on Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter (and really any occasion we could pass off as "special" or "holiday-like"). It was my Mom's go-to gift for my Dad's doctors, her Chanel makeup girls, or for the people who do our eyebrows....you get the picture, I could go on forever about these being the ultimate gift.

However, this year will be a little different. Tia Nelly passed away the Sunday before Thanksgiving. (I know... a little heavy...kind of like those movies you think are going to be really funny, but then someone gets sick or dies or whatever..... but aren't blogs here for people to express all types of emotions?)

When my mom moved to the U.S. from Peru, she left her family there. So, she built up a new network of family members who would be our substitute aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. Tia Nelly was not blood-related, but I knew her since I was born, and blood does not a family make.

My aunt was the queen of reinvention. She was a wife, a widow, a Spanish teacher and a business owner. She was strong and positive, hilarious and generous. Whenever she called her voice rang out with a sing-songy, "Hola, hola!" right before she went off telling you a long-winded, hilariously over-the-top story about her business, her cat, Sushi or her dog, Reina. Every time she came over, she would tell us a new beauty remedy she was trying out (lathering up her face with Crisco to reduce wrinkles) or bring over samples of a new recipe she was trying out (all just as delicious as her alfajores).

She was a grab-life-by-the-balls kind of lady and never apologized for who she was. And although her company and her cookies will be missed, the lessons she's left behind will keep her alive in my heart forever.

That being said, I like to think of her making bank up in heaven, selling her cookies to everyone. :)

P.S. And in honor of my aunt's business savvy and her love for a good plug, regardless of where it was. Her website is still up so you should check it out and see if you can order them from her children: http://www.nellysalfajores.com/

"Families are like fudge - mostly sweet with a few nuts." Author Unknown

I've only read two David Sedaris books: Me Talk Pretty One Day recommended by my sister and, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim recommended by a girl at my new job, who invited me to join her monthly book club. ( Yes, you read it right! I was invited to join a book club!) Both times I was quickly sucked in by Sedaris' self-deprecating wit and both times he re-kindled my interest on my own family stories.

When I read Sedaris, my immediate train of thought was: "Couldn't I also exploit my family's crazy quirks and hilariously unique anecdotes and get paid $$$$$$$$$$ to do so?"


So many times, after hanging out with any one of my many family members, I've opened up that blank word document, fingers poised on my ergonomic keyboard anxiously waiting for the words to flow. I sit there as the glowing screen taunts me, challenging me to write something reader-worthy. It is a staring contest that can go on for hours, until my eyes blur over and I am the first to blink, leaving my victory for another day.

Then I ask myself, does everyone think their family is worth writing about?

Why do only some share their stories with the world?

Is it just that some are writers and some are readers or is it actually that David Sedaris' life is more interesting than mine?

With two foreign parents and four older siblings (the youngest, only 8 years older than me), you'd think that my writing would be overflowing with exciting and embarrassing stories. But even if inspiration hits, as soon as I open up that word doc. my creativity shuts down and I am left staring in frustration; grasping at the disappearing wisps of revelation. But I will not lose faith.

Maybe I can put this on my list of New Year's resolutions for 2010. So far, I've got:

1. Write on my blog more often - if not everyday, at least every other day.

And now...

2. Write a least one story about one of my family members each month.

(Two working titles are: The Year of the Pineapples* and Brunch.)

Wish me luck!