Fifteen Minute Fashion

It takes me about 15 minutes to get myself ready in the morning before work. Let me break that down, 15 minutes for makeup, hair and outfit. (I shower most evenings.) As a working mom, I don't get that much time with my kids in the day and my favorite part of the day is morning - I love morning snuggles when they have bed head, rosy cheeks and are toasty warm to the touch so I've worked hard to actually get time with them in the mornings. Our morning routine is snuggles, cartoons, breakfast and then getting ready quickly. My part is about 15 minutes of that time. I get complimented on my work outfits frequently, so I thought I'd share how I do this because I'm always looking for ideas on how to make life smoother and better!

Before I dig in, here's some things to know about me: I'm a financial advisor and daughter of generational frugality, so I do not like to spend a lot of money, but I do love fashion and I want to look good for my professional career. I work better when I feel pulled together and polished.

1. Only buy what you absolutely love. Experiment until you know what you love and what works for you and then stick with the same brands and colors. For makeup I know that I love Mary Kay eyeshadow and I stick with neutral shades - I also love the price. I started awhile back with my clothes - I ONLY buy what I absolutely love. If the cut is off or the color doesn't look quite there - even if its only one dollar - I don't buy it! This makes putting on clothes pretty darn easy in the morning.

2. Purge frequently. I am scrupulous about ridding my wardrobe of the clothes that don't fit or I don't love anymore. If I haven't worn it that season, its getting donated. This keeps my wardrobe only full of the things I love and wear - this again makes picking out an outfit really simple. I purge by taking the clothes I want to get rid of by putting them in a bag in my closet and if I haven't missed them over the course of a month or when the bag is full, I donate.

3. Keep with the same color scheme. I stick to neutral colors and then add in reds, oranges and greens because those are the colors that make me feel good. When I have purchased colors that I don't generally buy, I have nothing to pair it with, so, guess what? It collected dust.

4. Keep a wish/need list. I try and keep my wardrobe slim - you saw the size of my closet - but I've also found that if I have too much of similar things (i.e. three pairs of black pants), one item always wins out and then I don't wear the other item and it collects dust. Now, when a white shirt starts to get dingy, or my black pants are getting washed out, I write it down on my wish/need list (I always have a padfolio in my purse with the last page for wish lists) and then when I see it on sale and have the money in my budget, etc its top of mind. This also keeps me from buying silly purchases on the rare occasion that I'm out shopping for fun because I have some "needs" in mind.

5. Buy online. I started shopping online about a year and a half ago and found it has saved me a lot of money, earned me lots of rewards and kept my wardrobe up to date. Following my other advice, I stick to what I know and has worked for me. I personally have had great success with Express for work clothes. I have a rewards account (free) app on my phone. When I have a wish/need list item I search using all the filters to find exactly what I want and pretty much only shop in the clearance area. I put it in my cart and when there's an extra 40-50% off, I purchase - if its not available then, I know something else will come up later. I try everything on when it arrives with multiple other things in my wardrobe and it I don't love it or I can't wear it with at least two other items, it gets shipped back. I've earned lots of free money by sticking with the same brand and their items go together better because the materials are similar, etc. Again, the result is that its incredibly easy for me to pull together an outfit in 2 minutes based on weather and my mood for the day!

Except for workout clothes - this is my entire winter and summer wardrobe.

6. Pinterest. I use pinterest for inspiration. Type in an item "pink blazer outfit" and see your wardrobe expand with ideas!

I wish I would have known this back in my early career days when I bought based on what was on sale even if it wasn't what I needed.

On Following Your Dreams

I recently finished Girl, Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis, (I definitely recommend it) and throughout the book she talks about following your dreams, making your dreams a reality, and imagining your dreams with such vividness that you can't but assume they will be achieved. So naturally, I started asking myself "What are my dreams?" and, well, I was kind of stuck. Maybe it was the fact that for the last few months, life had been a little bit more of a valley than a peak, and therefore I was feeling unsure about myself and the life that, until recently, I'd been pretty darn proud of building. 

Getting a little panicky, I started barraging myself...have I lost my ability to dream? Have the difficulties and realities of life gotten to me so much that I can't even dream big dreams anymore? Am I so caught up in my day to day that I can't even think outside the box of my small world? Of course, my impatience does not help this kind of self talk tornado, so for the last few weeks I've been asking myself and God to reveal my "dreams" as if something huge would slap me in the face. 

When I was younger, I had intense dreams to travel abroad and be a huge international business mogul. This later turned into aspirations of working in academia and being an amazing professor who travels the world for research. While I did achieve my dream of traveling during college and post graduate, I got married afterwards and had kids, and well, everything changed. The reality of putting others needs before mine happened. It wasn't just about me anymore. All my dreams changed, and not in a bad way, in a really good way but also a completely different way. The huge goals of being an international business mogul don't hold quite the same luster they used to and I'm more prone to daydream about making my home beautiful and getting a lake home to make family memories at, but somehow these kinds of dream don't seem like they are enough, not big enough - too boring.

Then, this past week, while listening to a Lenten reflection I felt a bit of an epiphany when I heard (I'm paraphrasing), "I believe that God's dreams for me are far bigger than those I have for myself." I have tried to trust that God will lead me by the right path (certainly not my spiritual strong point), even though I know nothing about it. Ultimately that's all I can do. I have recently come to discover and find great peace in the fact that doing all things, especially the little things, with great love, detail, and gratitude drastically changes what could be seen as simple and mundane tasks in life into extraordinary moments. This doesn't mean we shouldn't dream or push hard for goals we want, but I think that sometimes just waiting, watching and discerning the paths that are being opened to us, exactly where we are planted, can lead to far greater paths than we could have ever imagined for ourselves.

Looking back, I can see throughout my life the hand of God guiding me. I somewhat tried to follow the paths that were opened to me and that made the most "sense." During the times where I chose paths that were clearly not right for me, life was rough, and not make you stronger kind of rough, but make you fall apart and pull you away from what is good in life. When I chose what felt right and true (not necessarily easy or simple), I became a better version of myself and opportunities continued to reveal themselves. Many of these paths have been long and challenging and I didn't always feel certain in the thick of it that I was truly doing the right thing. I realize how vague this may all sound and it kind of is but my favorite prayer reveals the depth of this life long struggle we all have, and it fills me up when I'm feeling uncertain about life's paths:

"I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.

And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,

though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though
I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone." - Thomas Merton

Trusting that God will reveal his dreams for us when the time is right and then working each day with love is all we can do.

SERIAL QUITTER

I always had an emotional attachment to food growing up. Food was a coping mechanism. When I was in high school, I gained about 20 pounds after quitting volleyball my Sophomore year to try out for cheerleading, Junior year I did swimming and Senior year I didn't join anything. After that one decision and gaining weight, I never stuck to much I committed to. I continued to gain weight in to my first year in college at Ball State. 

I know what my highest number on the scale was but more than what the scale said (about thirty pounds more than I am today), it was the hold that food had on me and the lack of confidence I felt in myself for never sticking to anything. I had tried losing weight in high school with weight watchers or no carbs or I'd go a day without any sugar and then binge the next. Basically, I had lost all respect for myself because I never kept the promises I made to myself. My self talk was destroying me. I was a serial quitter and it spread into about every aspect of my life.

After three years of gaining weight and countless evenings crying on the phone to my mom, I decided to make a change. I was reading French Women Don't Get Fat and a lot of what the author talked about resonated with me. I didn't want to be on a diet, I didn't want to only eat vegetables, I didn't want to be the person who wasn't any fun to go out with because "sorry, I'm on a diet," but I knew I had a problem. The truth is, I was addicted to food. Eating food was how I coped. Stressed about an exam - eat food. Feeling lonely - eat way too much alone in my dorm room while I watched TV. In these moments, I barely tasted what I was eating and I hated myself so much during and afterward that I'd go into a spiral of negative self talk inside my head. I finally realized that Spring that I had to fix my relationship with food. If I continued to abuse food, I'd never be completely free from it's grasp, I might be able to manipulate it to lose weight, but it would still have power over me.

I set out with a basic and mostly fool proof plan to lose weight and address the underlying issue. I didn't have much confidence when I started, but each time I stuck to the small commitment I'd made, I believed more in myself and not only did I lose weight but I wasn't constantly crying and hating myself. 

Here's what I committed to: 

1. I committed to being aware when I ate. I would only eat half of the portion size I usually did (any food was game), and if I was still hungry, I could eat more. I committed to tasting the food I was eating. I ate slowly, I always sat down, with a real plate and I specifically savored each bite. I started to really enjoy what I ate, but I also monitored how full I felt throughout a meal. If I wanted tiramisu, I drove to go get my favorite and I ate it slowing with intention and with a real fork and plate.

2. I committed to journaling my feelings either before or after eating. If I overate, I would journal why I had overeaten and then forgive myself and recommit to journaling before eating next time, so I didn't eat my emotions. This was what I had never been able to do before, recommit after a mistake. Each time I forgave myself and started again, I built trust in myself.

3. Finally, I committed to running three times a week. I set up what days and times I would run based on my class schedule. I had absolutely no excuse not to go. I literally started running for 5 minutes and then I walked the rest of the 30 minutes. A week later, I ran 6 minutes and walked 24 minutes, and so it went, until I was able to run a full 30 minutes, very slowly. 

4. I committed to praying EVERY day. I prayed a short scripted prayer every day asking God to help me be healthy and I put this struggle in His hands. 

Over the course of the next year, I paid attention to my body and my clothes, but getting on the scale was just confirmation of what I already knew. Slowly, very slowly, weight came off. I think I lost about 15 pounds in a year and then another 10 in the next year. Since then, I have lost about another 5 or so depending on if I'm training for a half marathon or pregnant or postpartum. It was never really about the weight, the weight was the symptom of my addiction and as that lifted, I didn't worry as much about the number on the scale.

Not only did I lose the weight, I finally trusted myself. I finally discovered I could stick to something and I have used these tactics now for every other goal I've set in my life. Today, I can tell you with complete honesty that I eat whatever I want, but I only eat when I'm hungry and I always stop when I'm full. More importantly - FOOD DOESN'T CONTROL ME - and I'm not a serial quitter anymore.

Grandpa Stayanoff

As I've matured, mortality has started to have more depth of meaning. Each time someone I know dies, it cements the realization that life does have an end and we cannot know the day nor the hour of its arrival. I have found myself much more aware of the need to be ready for the true purpose of my life, to reach heaven. At each discovery of death, I have this intense and anxious moment of prayer toward heaven, asking that the dearly departed will reach God as quickly as possible.

My Grandpa died last week and while I know that death can be the most beautiful and most important part of our existence, it doesn't take away the need to mourn the death of someone in my life. Grief is hard to understand and for me personally, it has come in waves. I also want to celebrate and remember the life of the person, to verify my own experience with him, process the life of my grandpa and put his life in the context of my own.

As a granddaughter, I think I have to good fortune to see the best parts of my grandpa; a generation removed, I have space to see how his life impacted mine through my mom. I am blessed that he passed on some of these things.


Heritage. My grandpa was a first generation American. His parents came over from Macedonia and he didn't speak any English until he went to school and was forced to pick it up. Every school project I had about family history, I interviewed my Grandpa about his, my family history. I feel lucky that my history is so intriguing and that I had the opportunity to discuss it with him many times. I believe that a lot of my grandpa's other qualities and characteristics came from this upbringing that is so different from his future generations. He told me that he started the school year with two white shirts, two white pairs of socks and two pairs of jeans and by the end of the year they were too short, too tight and brownish instead of white. I also remember him talking about how he was so excited when he would go to a friend's house and have hamburgers with cheese slices because at home, on a self-sufficient farm, they had "farm to table" style meals of for example, rabbit stew that his mom would work on and cook all day - this kind of meal was foreign to him!

Garlic. Grandpa loved it and so do I. I don't think there's a Stayanoff that doesn't use garlic in the kitchen and usually, the more, the better. Grandpa was always, in my estimation, a great cook and food was important to any gathering. Eating a meal together happened often at his home and I have lots of memories of his old home with the blue carpet and gas stove and him cooking over the stove and leaning on the island to chat. He had the best homemade vinaigrette dressing I have ever tasted. Naturally, there was garlic in the dressing too. Usually, grandpa had some older style music playing as well. Lest I leave it out, I learned how to make the "world famous slug-o-burgers" from Grandpa as well.

Frugality. Again, I don't think there's a Stayanoff that isn't frugal nor one that keeps anything extra in the house. I am incredibly grateful to my Grandpa for passing down his frugality to my mother so I in turn could learn good spending habits. As a financial advisor, I see the true value in living below your means and not only in order to save for retirement, but also to buy what really has meaning and value to you. It's also thanks to Grandpa that I had some savings bonds to use for my first year of college.

Stubbornness. We all have faults, but some faults can also be a strength. Grandpa stuck to his guns and I like to think I do to, and I have a strong inclination I get this trait from my grandpa through my mom.

Faith. While my grandpa and I never talked a lot about faith, I always knew him to faithfully attend mass each Sunday. I am grateful that he converted to Catholicism and that I was raised Catholic and that we were able to share mass together from time to time. There are two times in my life when I remember my Grandpa talked 'passionately' (in his own way) about his faith. During one of my school interviews with him, he mentioned that the only thing that really matters in this life is faith in God. At another instance, he talked to me about really truly "buying in" to the Catholic faith and all it teaches, just as he had. Finally, soon before his death he welcomed a priest to his home for his last sacraments, confession and Eucharist. This, this is exactly what I pray wholeheartedly for, that all who are dear to me, truly discover why it is we are here on Earth and that we may all be reunited one day together in Heaven.

The last time I saw my Grandpa he was in great spirits, he was sweet and kind and I was able to give him one last smooch on his cheek. As I walked away, I looked back to wave goodbye with his daughter in front of me and my daughter in my arms he waved a sweet goodbye wave with a sweet smile that I will remember forever.

Thank you, Grandpa, for being in my life and shaping many parts of who I am.

Morning: A Reflection

There's quiet in my house and the smell of recently roasted coffee always greets me in the kitchen. The scent immediately conjures the image of my husband going about his routine in a completely still home, rushing, before slipping out the door without anyone even knowing. There's only a few moments before the little one awakes. I hear her little voice..."mommy, mommy, mommy".  Those first few moments when I go to get her are my favorite. She smells just a certain way and she feels warm as she snuggles her head into the crevice of my neck. Her hair is a wild mess of tangles and always in her eyes, so she rubs them fiercely. Even the way she tilts her head in the morning and looks up at me with a half sleepy grin is perfection. All too soon the precious moment slips away and time presses in on us. There will always be tomorrow to try and capture it once again.

Heavy

For most of my adult life I have moved, changed jobs, changed countries, changed languages, changed life situations, changed my name, etc. I'm not sure I've had 'normalcy' since I moved to college. Finally, I've realized that all of life is change. I've realized that when life is at its most difficult its because you are being forced out of your comfort zone and into a change that you can either grow from or you can step back from in fear. I realize it's taken me longer than it should have to come to these conclusions. 

After six months of life's newest change in my life has passed, I have been forcing myself to pause and reflect on the result of this latest change. 

I find what I am struggling with most at this particular path in my life is how hard to push myself - I find myself asking, how much growth is really happening here or how much of this is pushing just to push? That is, to keep up with the status quo. I feel this constant fight between two interior voices in my head. One says I should be working tirelessly to be everything, to do everything. The other tells me it's okay to take a break, it's ok to enjoy life. It's okay if you're not perfect. 

I think the second is correct. I think I feel a pressure to be everything someone else says I should be, in a constant game of comparisons with every person I come in contact with. What I want for my life is to be uniquely me, flaws and all, changes and constant growth, but in my own time and manner. Along the same lines, I find that I am way to hard on myself. My inner voice is almost cruel with ongoing censures as to how I could be better or how I do not "do" enough. It's not always about the doing its about the "being." I am "worthy" just because I am. 

I'm not sure any of this makes sense to anyone other than myself, but I'm sending it out there into the great big void. 

Ode to a Mother's Mourning

With change rapidly approaching in one week, I have been preparing for the big change and reflecting even more on this change, willing time to stand still so I can hold on to my little baby just a few moments longer before I start a full time job. This means our daughter will now attend daycare full time, and with great sadness I will not be able to spend long, summer days with her.

To my surprise, I love being at home with her. I love the non-existence of stress from a day job, the freedom to do whatever we want, spending time with my mom so she can see her granddaughter on an almost weekly basis and most of all watching every move my little "chickie" makes because I truly revel in it.

I was expressing my worries to a wonderful friend of mine, and she made a comment that put the situation in perspective. She said, "...It makes sense, Erika. You're going through mourning..." It's true. I am mourning the end of a magical era where I spend limitless time with a daughter who I know will grow up in the blink of an eye. She will only live with me for a small time, and she will only beg to crawl on me for an even shorter amount of time, and I can't help but feel a deep mourning in my soul for the time I will lose with her and a jealousy towards those who will spend the hours of the day with her and surely cannot feel the love I feel toward her! (Yes, I know that socialization is great for children.)

I know how quickly time moves when you're working - between working full time, cleaning, cooking, paying the bills and family gatherings, our little moments will be scarce. Yes, I know I will still see her every evening and weekends, but what little time in comparison to the leisure days we have spent together this summer! And my greatest fear is that with the fatigue that comes with working full time, I may even start to resent the tiresome moments that come with a little one when I am with her.

The majority of mothers I know work and as a well educated woman, I see the beauty in a career and a life outside of the home. I know working can be a great example to my daughter; however, there has never been anything in my life so important and so special that I have been in charge of before - raising another being.

I do trust that God has a plan for our family's life and for this reason I am deciding not to allow anxiety into my thoughts. I trust that as everything else in my life, it will all work out. Yet, I am permitting myself this small "Ode to a Mother's Mourning", because I specifically do not need reasons to rationalize away or bury my feelings of great sadness or my love of staying home with my daughter. I don't want to come up with a million and one reasons why this is a good thing. I am just in need of a mourning period, a small validation of the end of this beautiful moment in time so that I may move forward with resiliency because this moment is nearly over, and oh! how wonderful it has been!

Happiness

"Happiness is wanting what you have, not having what you want." - Mark Twain

Truer words were never spoken. I have found in life that many times people, myself included, have said comments such as "If it makes you happy, that's all that matters." The older I get, the more I realize this statement is bullsh*t. We say it without thinking, but this means that our happiness and therefore our emotional and spiritual well-being is conditional and based upon the influences in our lives. What if something that hurts another makes you happy? But I digress...

What I am driving at here is that while I am not perfect in this area at all, I have found that contentment - even better than happiness - comes from within. First and foremost is comes from the incredible knowledge that I am a Child of God. This is something that will never change and therefore is a constant that I can always count on in my life. However, I do have to choose to accept this knowledge and own it. 

After I accept this fact, I have to let it resonate throughout my life. I think all would agree this is the most difficult part. This means accepting that God knows best for me and therefore I am exactly where I am meant to be at this point in my life - physically, emotionally, vocationally, etc. This is where Twain's quote is so relevant. I find that I am consantly in a state of "waiting", a perpetual anxiousness of wishing and wanting for the next part of my life to unfold and when it does, I wish I knew what was next. 

What if we just embraced the present? What if we lived it fully and unapologetically? What if we made a decision each day to be happy with what we had and where we were, no exceptions? Sounds pretty incredible to me.

Mother's Day Reflection - a New Mother's Love

It is incredibly amazing to me how my life has changed since bringing our daughter into the world. I realize this isn't new to all the parents out there, but let me take you back to the beginning of your journey as parents and for those of you who have yet to join this unique club, let me tell you it is the ride of your life - and this is coming from someone who is just getting started.

First, let me say that describing the love of a child is impossible because it is something that resonates in your very core. When I just think upon my daughter and her little face - I know it well from studying it and staring at it avidly most of the day - it fills my whole body and soul with a pure, unending love. It is different from the love I have for anyone else in my life. There are people I love so dearly that it hurts sometimes when I think about them. However, my love for them is an active, daily decision that I learned, and it continues to grow and deepen with every day, but I must work at this kind of love. I don't have to work at loving my baby girl - the love just exists.

I will be honest with you, though. I do not have that amazing birth story about how incredible I felt as I held my baby girl for the first time. I truly felt very little other than pure amazement that she was actually here. I don't think it even dawned on me that I was going to meet the little being that had lived inside of me for nine months until the last moments of labor when they were shouting at me "She's almost here!" I had this thought pass through my head, I remember looking at my husband too, and thinking "Oh! We're about to meet her." Just like that, the thought flitted through my brain and when they placed her on my chest all I could think was, "She doesn't look like me. Is this really what my daughter looks like?" And, "She sure has a hairy back, poor thing, gets that from her father." Seriously, these are the thoughts that went through my head.

While I was very excited, I also think that the weight of the emotions, preparation, and (oh yeah) a baby in me for the last 9 months and 12 hours of labor had exhausted everything; leaving me devoid of excitement and just plain exhausted. As family members came in to hold her, I was just kind of floating mentally between time and space.

I have to say that during those first moments what I felt was more of an instinctual love of my daughter. I wanted to protect her, keep her safe and do whatever needed to be done - my radar only focused on her, but as the days grew into weeks and now the weeks into months, it is incredible that my heart has been able to grow so big. I did not realize how little it had been previously. Nor had I realized how selfish I was. I don't mean this in a negative way to all those without children; I mean it to describe how much of my 'self' I have had to leave behind in order to make room for this little being and all the love that it necessary to provide for her physical and emotional needs.

Previously, I posted about how my love for my daughter has revealed God's love for me. It has also revealed how much he gave for me on the cross and how truly unselfish our Lord has been with me throughout my life. He has given me all the necessities I need to survive and thrive, and he has watched me patiently stumble through life and gently and patiently picks me up and waits for me to go the right way.

I never knew how much having a child would erase "myself" and smooth out my rough spots - believe me it will take too many children to smooth it all away - and the funny part is that this is exactly what I was afraid of when I was pregnant - losing "me." Isn't that what our postmodern society is always yelling at us from the pages of every magazine and TV ad? - preserve the almighty self. What I have come to find is that losing sight of yourself by giving yourself completely to another, that is true love. Finally, the true task of life makes sense - Mother Teresa put is best, "True love is surrender. The more we love the more we surrender. If we really love souls we must be ready to take their place."

Lenten Revelation

I decided to not listen to music in the car for Lent and have therefore experienced quite a bit more silence than I typically do, especially over Spring Break when I took two trips to Fort Wayne. While I certainly enjoy silence, it is incredible how an hour of silence opens your mind. In the Old Testament it talks about how God did not speak in strong winds or loud sounds but in a small whisper, and I have been able to experience these small whispers through the silence, albeit in the car rather than in the nature. Nevertheless, in the silence of my second hour long trip to the north, I was contemplating how much I love my daughter - something I dwell upon frequently these days - and although it may sound dramatic, a revelation occurred to me about the love of the Father. I finally understand, of course in my small, human way, the love that my heavenly Father has for me. Nothing my daughter could ever do would change my love for her - absolutely nothing. I realize we will hit rough patches in our relationship down the road, but that deep abiding love that I cannot compare to any other feeling or desire or relationship in my life, it will never cease to reside within me. Finally, I have a glimpse of how much the Lord cares for his children.

Change

You know the restless feeling you get when you know things are about to change...again. This seems to be my life. I'm not saying this with regret or tension, just acceptance. I enjoy change. I like moving around. I'm not sure this is a great quality to have. It makes me incredibly adaptable. I thrive on learning something new, picking up new experiences, and I have a need to always conquer and master whatever opportunity comes my way. My parents, in particular my mom, always told me growing up that I would be great at whatever I put my mind to, and so I constantly have that voice in my head - for good or bad - telling me that whatever I put my mind to, I will succeed at. The problem, is choosing one.

"Home" by Phillip Phillips came on today while I was working and it directly took me back to our rehearsal dinner. It only took the first notes and I can see the room full of all our dearest friends and family. You know how memories are kind of foggy in your brain, I have this image that's like a  panoramic shot of the room. White tablecloths on round tables, now rumpled and littered with empty dishes and full wine glasses.

The whole night, buzzed with excitement for the next day. The truth is, I think I loved that night more than my actual wedding day. That night captured the essence of everything that makes life great and worth living - family, friends and food. All my siblings and their children were present and my oldest friends were there. I remember laughing and joking all night with an overall feeling of contentment.

Do you ever have moments that freeze in time and you want them to last forever?

What is it about cafés? Even on McGalliard, quite possibly the ugliest street in the world (yes, the world), stepping into Panera brings me into my own. Having the day off from mom duty today, I of course head to the "local" mega chain café to get my fix. I feel calm and excited all at the same time because any café conniseur will agree that the café makes the coffee, it's an experience not a drink. Sitting here looking out at the vast and never ending garden of, well, cars and pavement outside, I cannot help but think back on all the cafés I've seen.

My first café experiences were in France where I would venture to bet, most Americans picture all French men and women spending their leisure days. Berets sit jauntily to one side of their little têtes and of course they all wear black and white striped shirts and have a baguette sitting in their bicycle baskets. They while away hours smoking cigarettes and bavardé-ing. Of course, this is just a stereotype, but I must say they do all spend their days in comparison to our hyper drive lives, pretty leisurely and most will visit a café at least one during their day. While smoking is on the decline in France, the majority of them will be seen with a small little puff of smoke lingering around them when they drink their petits coffees. This idealic experience is exactly where I fell in love with the café experience, and my addiction to coffee truly began.

And then, withdrawal...I remember my first visit to a coffee shop in Chile. My host family wanted to take me out. I was extremely excited after having what I considered terrible instant coffee in their home. I had conversed with another coffee addict friend and she confirmed that the coffee at her home was instant as well...sigh... Being in South America, just a few countries away from Colombia and her amazing coffee beans, I imagined deep, rich and bold cups of coffee.

I decided to order a cappuccino. When they brought me a tiny little mug, I discovered the Starbucks version I had in my mind was turning out to be a Nescafé. Sadly, this was the same experience in every café I stepped into in Chile until one day when wandering down the winding streets of Valparaíso, I found a small café that had amazing cups of coffee in large white mugs the size of bowls and deliciously creamy milk that didn't taste like it had come from the boxed milk we had in our homes. The atmosphere was just like what I imagine walking into a chic English woman's kisch cottage in the country would look like. Vintage decor peppered the walls and we received our breakfast of toasted crusty bread and jam on little delicate trays. This was not the ordinary Chilean cafe that had the tiny, red Nescafé mugs (if you could call them mugs) and plastic chairs and tables. While some people remember their first kiss like it was yesterday, others their first vintage bottle of wine, I have vivid memories of tiny cafés with amazing cups of coffee. 

Spain was the experience I expected in Chile. The Spanish personality, contrary to popular belief, is gruff and abrupt. Yes, they love to party and enjoy themselves but compared to the joviality and openness of the Chileans, Spaniards were brief and concise in their communications. They make New Yorkers seem delightfully kind and warm. When I would have an extra five minutes on my morning walk to class I would stop into my favorite bar to grab a quick café con leche.

This is how every café trip would go:
    I sidle up to the bar and sit on the high chair next to all the workers taking their morning breakfast break at 10 AM. 
    "Buenas. Un café con leche y una tostada." (Morning. A coffee with milk and toast.)
    No response from the bartender, just a confirmation nod while he simultaneously adds my little white mug to the line of mugs at the massive expresso maker which is rapily firing out hot shots of pure black coffee.
    Half a minute later he hands me my coffee and toast with olive oil and crushed tomatoes on top.
    I eat and drink. Two minutes later I make the sign for la cuenta to the bartender (I act like I'm signing a bill in the air). 
    He nods and hands me my little white ticket. 
    I lay down my cash and leave.

Brief, abrupt and perfectly Spanish. 

Here's to a morning cup of coffee - one similarity that crosses all borders.

Today I heard the quote, "You're either growing or dying, stagnation does not exist in the universe." I firmly believe in this. Have you ever noticed that there are points in your life where you were just riding along not seeking to better yourself, to grow, to learn, to LIVE? Then there comes some pivotal moment that spurs you into action and you think, what have I been doing this whole time? It may even be that its just in a certain areas of your life while other areas are progressing, you let that area die off.

Anyway, this quote really hit home with me especially with all the changes going on in my life right now, a new marriage, a new home, a baby on the way and big steps in my professional life as well. I think it is supremely important to constantly strive to grow and be the best version of yourself. Unfortunately, it seems that as we grow up we tend to lose that childlike wonder and curiosity for life. We stop dreaming. We take our circumstances as they are, and we move into reactive mode instead of proactive mode. The land of "if only's", as I recently heard the keynote speaker talk about at the Catalyst conference here in Muncie, becomes our permanent residence.

Where is this going? I'm just going to send this post out "into the void" (reference to my favorite movie You've Got Mail) as food for thought. I'm personally looking at it in the context of my life, and the growing I see going on there. I also see it happening here in Muncie - I've joined Muncie Young Professionals which is full of young leaders working to develop the city. There is a new gym that just opened up downtown across my office - makes you feel like a its a big city! So growth is happening here. Even our favorite restaurant, Savages has new logos painted on the windows!

What about you? Are you growing or dying?

Muncie

Since my last writing, life has changed dramatically. Only three years have past since being "re-patriated" in the United States after a lovely two and an half year hiatus traveling and studying leisurely. Once upon American soil, the whirlwind and hyper-drive life of the US caught me up and spun me from a job in Fort Wayne, into engagement to my now husband and left me planted in a home and job in Yorktown, IN.

Thus, I have found myself in the town to which I swore I would never return. Interestingly enough, traveling made me realise that any town can be interesting as long as you cultivate your curiosity and seek out what makes it interesting. Its much easier in a foreign setting where everything is new, but Muncie, IN is anything but foreign to me now - it's home.

It's unfortunate; however, Muncie has a terrible rapport with its inhabitants. No one seems to speak good words about the poor town, and in spite of efforts made to change its image, the feeling of resentment towards the town lingers. Personally, my thoughts tend toward a marketing view that if a new image could be invented and assumed as the truth it would catch on. This is where I am, looking to cultivate curiosity in the most Midwest American town, Muncie.

Saturday Morning in Fort Wayne

Today I felt like I was in a big city...maybe even a European city...in downtown Fort Wayne!!! We were heading downtown for the Art in the Park and saw the Barr Street Market and decided to stop on our way to. It was so lovely! They had fresh, local, organic produce and small, independent businesses, some jewelry and some food all under the bright red tent! I felt very urban as we walked around and got a Black Dog coffee from Madeleines Bakehouse. The BEST part was the jazz music, so we sat and sipped coffee, listened to jazz music and people watched - all on a Saturday morning in the good old Fort! I will totally be going back, for me big city refill soon!

As we moved on to the art booths, we walked up to one and right away I knew it was Paris, a view of the old houses along the Seine river. All of the paintings were parfait, I mean really truly the feel of Paris and I knew they had to have been painted in Paris right in front of each subject! So, I kind of listened as people stopped by and said how nice the paintings were and the artist totally had a French accent. When I asked him if the paintings were done in Paris, he said yes and asked "Vous parlez français ?" "OUI !" I replied...Alain Bathelot, was his name and were I not a recent graduate, I would have bought up a painting right away...but, he said he used to paint in Montmartre - my favorite part of Paris and where all the famous painters like Van Gogh and Monet used to gather! I was so delighted and surprised to be speaking French with a Parisian artist in Fort Wayne at the Three Rivers Festival - who knew?!

Travel Guidelines

I'm getting sick of traveling.

Ok, not really, just the airports and their security measures. If I could take a train for all my travels, well, I'd never get sick of traveling! Meanwhile, I still managed to take the long flight across the pond to end up home once again (don't think train travel will be happening with that one)! But before then, I got to spend some time in Mallorca - one of the islands of Spain.

My Rule #5 in traveling is that I'm only going on trips that are easy to plan - no more long trips from the airport to the city (unless its ridiculously cheap, beggars can't be choosey and I'm unemployed ;-)) and Rule #4 is that I'm choosing places that are different, not the same old castles and cathedrals. Don't get me wrong, I love castles and cathedrals but after seeing lots, they all blend in and usually, I enjoy their exterior architecture more than their dark interiors.
Hence, Palma de Mallorca - the capital of the island - an easy trip, within my budget and a bit exotic because it's an island! I only saw one cathedral, where I went to mass on Sunday, and I had learned about it in my Cultural Images class which brings me to Rule #3 - knowing something about what you see makes it MUCH more interesting. Palma's cathedral is a Gothic cathedral, but is very different from the majority of the peninsula's Gothic cathedrals because its Mediterranean style.

We also spent two days on the beach - my second time at a beach in Europe and always a treat for an avid people watcher like me, with the large usage of speedos only by men over 60 and the topless women of all ages. I don't know if I'm envious or repulsed by this absolutely non Protestant, non Anglo-Saxon acceptance of their bodies...Rule #2, gawk at something that makes you incredulous because it would NEVER happen where you're from.And now my new Rule #1 when I travel is to see nature, spend time in it, soak it up. I have come to realize that once again, cities are great, I'm totally a city girl, but they aren't as magnificent as nature. Therefore, we headed out hiking one day from a small town, Soller to an even smaller one, Deià and saw olive trees and cool rocks and even huge mansions (lots of famous people, like Charley Sheen have vacation houses in Mallorca). And the city of Deià was adorable with little streets and old houses made of rocks - I'd rather own one of these houses than the mansions on the hiking route. At the end of the trail, we stopped for fresh lemonade - lemon trees were everywhere on the trail - and some olives and bread which I have to add as a last Rule, stopping at a café and resting is never wasted money in my book.And maybe one more Rule, don't see everything because then you have to go back.

Winter Break: Part 3

Is it wrong for me to say that I like Portugal more than Spain?
Don't get me wrong, Madrid is great and I don't think I'd want to live in Portugal, but it is just so cute and quaint and friendly! We flew to Porto on our first stop and then went to a tiny town called Nazaré and finished up with Lisbon and a small city outside of Lisbon called Sintra.

Our first day was in Porto, a very charming city with a great view from across the river where we did a Port wine tour and tasting, after 10 plus years and lots of sugar, it was delicious but a bit sweet for my taste buds. The only hitch was when we woke up to no showers because of a broken city pipe and discovered we were an hour early, thus missed an hour of precious sleep, for our 7 am bus because of the time change between Spain and Portugal....a small detail...but the next city TOTALLY made up for it.

My favorite city by far was Nazaré, its a tiny town on the beach with traditional everything. When we arrived an older lady, dressed in the traditional dress of tons of petticoat skirts and a knitted shawl across her shoulders, greeted us saying, "Two beds? You look, if you like, you stay; if not, no problem." So we went and checked out a really nice apartment about two minutes from the beach with three beds and a kitchen and when she said "35 euros", we took it! Basically, the nicest part of Nazaré was how calm it was and the cute quaint streets and the gorgeous view from Sitio, the city just above you get to by funicular.After our relaxing beach day we headed to adorable Lisbon with tiled houses and old street trolleys. This is the main street Rua Augusta where our hostel was.My favorite part was the traditional fado music we got to listen to while sipping a cherry liqueur. Although I didn't understand it, they tell me that they usually are about love and betrayals...big surprise...Finally, we did a day trip to Sintra, a town about an hour outside of Lisbon that has three castles and lots of gardens and beautiful grounds in the mountains. And yummy, yummy pastries.Basically, I would LOVE to head back to Portugal and probably most of all to relax during the summer on the beaches at Nazaré and wander more in the adorable streets in Lisbon where you feel like you've gone back a century in time!

Winter Break: Part 2

I may sound like a real snob when I say, I was not that fond of Barcelona...sorry! I'm guessing its because it wasn't summer, and it would certainly be awesome to be at the beach tanning, but as massive cities go, I'd rather be in calmer, cleaner Madrid, with so many less tourists...but that's just my opinion...that said, Barcelona's amazing architectural sites from Gaudí are pretty amazing and you won't find them in Madrid. Here are his crazy, but oh, so cool houses:

And then there's Park Güell which, once again, is just weird, but in an awesome way...And we must not forget the Sagrada Familia which has been under construction since, oh, around 1882!!!
Again, unbelievable sites that you have to see in Barcelona, and then get yourself away from the crazy tourists crowding every square block of the place! Kidding, kidding, really you should head to a tapas bar because you won't be seeing any of the amazing tapas they make there in just about any other place I've been to!

Winter Break: Part 1

After living four months in Madrid, I'd like to think I've got it down pretty good now. I completed the first two semesters of three of my Master's which is extremely hard to believe but OH, so exciting, I've mastered the metro which is probably the nicest I've seen anywhere, and learned how to hop up on a bar stool and ask frankly and without much anglosaxon politeness for my Mahou (practically the only beer available here) and a my pincho of tortilla española. Sí, being a madrileña means being asking for what you, want when you want it, and without a please or thank you.

As for my little adventures, most of them happened recently with my parents when we saw lots of Madrid, Barcelona y some small towns close to Madrid. I would have to say that my personal favorite was the monastery on top of the mountain about an hour outside of Barcelona, Montserrat. It was absolutely beautiful and I wish I could have spent more time hiking around.This is Mom and I up on top of the mountain.Here's the monastery in the side of the mountain.

So, if you take a trip to Barcelona, Montserrat is a must, while I loved all the amazing architecture of Antoni Gaudí, its just can't compare to the beauty of nature.
Happy New Year!