hermitage:

 –noun 
1. the habitation of a hermit
2. any secluded place of residence or habitation; retreat; hideaway.
3. (initial capital letter) a palace in Leningrad built by Catherine II and now used as an art museum


When I was in high school, I used to be better about carving out me-time. I did this to counteract the overachiever in me so I wouldn't go crazy. I would unplug my phone, sign off my AIM, lock my bedroom door, and curl up on my bed with a good book or a good movie. Something I affectionately called my hermitage.  It wasn't a reaction to a bad day, or teenage angst, or a fight with a friend; I just needed some time to recharge. As I've gotten older, this "recharging" has fallen by the waist-side.

I live in this constant battle with technology. I love having access to everything, but then that access becomes too much and I want to shut it all down, at least for a few hours. So today, during my lunch break, I ventured to the Grand Central branch of the NYPL, and while I was settling into my new book, Her Fearful Symmetry, I took a moment to weigh the pros and cons of indulging in something sinful: turning off my cellphone.

Pros:
No email alerts
No gchats
No text messages
No facebook notifications
No app upgrades
No interruptions


Cons:
I won't be able to check the time
What if I get an urgent work email?

I know what you're thinking, clearly the pros outweigh the cons, but it involved a heated back and forth in my head for about 10 minutes. BUT, finally, I settled on my decision:

SHUT THE DARN THING OFF!

I mean, are we destined to be badgered my our cellphones' constant tweets and chirps? If someone calls us, must we answer, every time? If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Do we eat to live, or live to eat?

Ground-breaking stuff here people. Think about it. Or maybe you already took my advice and disconnected yourself......after you finished reading this post of course, don't forgo the necessities. Obviously.

"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.

My Life in France - Julia Child

If we go back to my first post about Julia Child, you will remember that one of my ambitions was to read My Life In France. I was enchanted by the relationship Julia shared with her husband, with France and with la cuisine française. So as soon as I finished Julie and Julia, I requested the book (during the summer) from my library......and waited until December to actually read it! And once again, the love affair between the Childs sent my heart aflutter.

Their quirky sense of humor and the way they manage to understand each other's every peccadillo astounds me. It got my brain thinking...that's what I want...someone who is going to understand all those little things about me, that may annoy an innocent bystander, but that will make them love me even more. I believe that you have to find someone who is going to love your imperfections even more than your "perfections". And I feel like that's what Julia and Paul had. When you read about their adventures and their spontaneity...it's like they brought out the best in each other, in their own unique way. It's a modern day Romeo and Juliet, minus the dying and plus the good food, good friends and good humor.

One thing that I learned, that made me fall in love with them even more is that instead of sending out Christmas cards, they sent out Valentine's Day cards. In the book Julia says that Christmas was too hectic, it always crept up on them and they could never send out the cards in time. So their tradition was to take "lovey" pictures of themselves and send those out to their friends in time for Valentine's Day. A sample of their Valentine's Day cards is in the photo insert in the book, and they are priceless.

Since I've started working in publishing, I've realized how difficult it can be for authors to find a collaborator who is going to bring out his or her real voice in their book. Sometimes, an author is not a writer, and finding someone who is going to stay true to his or her own voice and personality is essential. Julia was reticent about writing her story, but when she finally did decide to put it all down, she could not have found a better person to help her. Alex Prud'homme, Paul Child's great-nephew captured Julia in a way, that even though I didn't know her personally, I could feel her presence and fun-loving charisma resonating off the page.

If I closed my eyes, I could hear her high-lilting voice booming joyfully; sharing each one of her experiences with me. I savored the French dishes that changed how her palate tasted life. And I felt my heart leap every time she described her marriage and interactions with Paul.

Her story is inspiring to say the least. Moving to France and diving into doing something that I love, with no regrets? Sounds perfect. When I was in high school my sister used to joke that I was like Gertrude Stein. She'd say that like Stein, “America is my country and Paris is my hometown.” Lucky enough to visit Paris more than once, I was always romanced by the people, the art, the language and the lifestyle. It felt right when I was walking down the street, baguette in hand, Eiffel Tower in the background. French pastries are my weakness, but unlike Julia, my affinity for French cooking is nonexistent.

I guess growing up in a Greek household, my love for olive oil trumps my French ancestry's butter-loving butt.

A bientôt, mes amis!

For a great book review of My Life In France check out this link:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/28/books/review/28riding.html

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/

"Here's to the ones we love. Here's to the ones who love us. Here's to the ones we love who don't love us. Hell, screw them all, here's to us!"

Cassie Moore, Type-A personality, follows a "PLAN" that she created when she was 17. Step-by-step her life is planned out into a neat checklist.

At 28, she had most of her list checked off: she had a great job, a drool-worthy apartment and a loving fiance. But, as we all know, all that can change in the blink of an eye, or in this case, in the turn of a page...

Cassie goes into work early one day, gets called into the boss' office and instead of getting promoted gets FIRED! She gets home to find that she is being EVICTED from her apartment! And walks in on her "loving" fiance cheating on her with his ex-girlfriend!

Three strikes and you're OUT!

So she does what any sane 20-something would do. Calls her friends and drinks herself into oblivion. And let's admit, we've all had our share of blackouts, but did yours involve waking up the next morning to 13 missed phone messages from her mom, a flight booked to Buenos Aires and an apartment rented for six months. Talk about a blackout.

First thought: Where did she get the money to do this?
Second thought: Why don't I have this kind of money to do this?
Third thought: God, I need money
****Pity Party****
Fourth thought: SNAP OUT OF IT!

Cassie goes from control freak, to Argentinian fling-er, to even more rigid control freak, to finally, letting loose, throwing out all the plans and falling in love with the right guy (the guy who's been under her nose the whole time).

Lessons learned:
1. Do not ASSUME anything about anything/one
2. Allow for spontaneity
3. Life and Love are messy, so stop trying to tame/clean them up.

A deliciously intricate self-discovery book that reminded me that not everything is made to fit into a checklist or spreadsheet. A tough lesson to learn, being a control freak myself, but a good one nonetheless.

To blog or not to blog?

As I was sitting on the LIRR train, reading another "book turned movie", I thought about all the books I've decided to read just so I could go to the local Loews, pay $12,000 and get completely disappointed when the movie didn't live up to my imagination. So many times, the silver screen isn't big enough for the imaginings of the author and it is just a complete disaster. (Read and then see "Nights in Rodanthe", you'll know what I mean).

It was then that I made my decision to enter the blogosphere. My brain had been turning around the idea after I had finished reading "Julie & Julia". Don't get me wrong, it wasn't that "Oh my God, I could become famous just like Julie Powell, get a book deal and then make a movie!" It was more, "Hmm...sitting down and writing the great American novel seems a bit daunting right now, but blogging about stuff? I might be into that."

That is when I started badgering my friends:
"If I were to write a blog, what would it be about?"
"Would you read my blog?"
"Are blogs stupid?"
"What do you think about writing a blog _________?"

Then when that was too hard it went to:
"What should my blog name be?"
"What should the title be?"
"No, that's a stupid title."
"No, that's a stupid title!"
"No, that's a stup....HEY! Where are you going? I need your heeeelp!"

I definitely wanted it to be about books, because (un)fortunately while everyone else is out going to bars and living the life of a normal 20-something-year-old, I like to cozy up under my self-knitted afghan and read. (I don't really have a self-knitted afghan, not for lack of trying, it has more to do with my inability to knit something harder than a scarf -- ask my friends, Christmas circa 2007. I just thought it would add a touch of crazy cat lady that you guys would appreciate.) But I digress.

My ideas ranged from writing about books turned into movies, to writing a blog titled "A Year in the Life of a Bridesmaid" while incorporating my book du jour. Anyway, I just wanted to start writing. So many people just jump in, not caring whether you're going to think them egotistical for writing about themselves everyday or getting up on their soap box and telling you why their opinion is right. I'm here, just wanting to share my opinion about life, love and books and hoping I'll have some readers who will learn from me, but most important, people who I will learn from too.

So here I am, no project in mind. Just a hope that the world is still a good place where strangers can learn a little from each other one post at a time :)