Risky Business

Most people don't set a lot of stock in "New Year's Resolutions", and I'm the kind of person who tends to fizzle out half way through challenges of this sort (see: this and this if you have any doubts about me). This year, however, I resolved to take more risks, and carried this mantra through all twelve months of 2012.

The idea of taking more risks evolved from my boredom with my play-it-safe personality. I see myself as a person who lives in a state of constant fear, and, while my fear doesn't always cripple me, it mostly leaves me with a white-bread type of existence. Bland. Boring. Blah.

At the beginning of this year, I knew that I had a lot of big things ahead-- with college graduation and whatever comes after being the most gigantic of all. This alone scared me beyond belief. After thinking on and worrying about the unknown in my impending future, I came to the realization that playing it safe wasn't an option if I really wanted what I 'want' out of life. You can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs, you know? And so, take more risks was born.

Now, for your viewing pleasure, I will profile 5 of the most poignant risks I embarked on. Some are huge, some are small. But all of them scared the hell out of me, so that has to count for something.

5. The OK!Cupid Date
Not one of my brightest endeavors, but I think we can all agree that it was pretty damn risky. It all started when my NYU friends and I sat down for dinner together (complete with the best pumpkin risotto you've ever tasted, by the way). We were reveling over one's onslaught of dates over the past week when she admitted that she'd made a profile on the dating site, OKCupid, at the urging of a friend. Now, the rest of us operated under the assumption that only weird young people or old people in general had to use the internet to get a date. Crude, I know, but you were making these generalizations too, and you know it.

We were a little shocked and intrigued that our friend, who is totally normal and a catch, was picking up men who weren't murdering her on the web. And she seemed to be having some success at it. So I, being the only other single lady of the group, told her I'd do it too. Partly because who doesn't like a good date, but mostly because creeping on other peoples' dating profiles is wildly entertaining.
I made a profile and within a matter of minutes the views and messages started coming in. The way OKCupid works is that you type up some profile responses (What are you looking for, what movies do you like...) and answer some questions (Are women obligated to shave their legs? How do you feel about S&M?) and the site calculates a love match percentage, friend percentage, and enemy percentage between you and other users in your area. After getting some really titillating messages (i.e., 'hey', 'nice freckles', 'what r u wearing 4 hlwn grl?'), one hit my inbox that made me laugh out loud.
I won't bore you with the details, but, long story short, I decided to respond and we hit it off. Eventually the conversation lead to whereabout in NYC we lived. And we lived in the same neighborhood. In the same apartment complex, to be exact.

Truly, this was weird and exciting at the same time, and I was feeling pretty risky. So I accepted his suggestion that we meet in an hour and take a stroll around our complex. At 9pm. In the dark. In NYC. Alone. Hey, I already said it was not one of my brightest endeavors. Also, it gets a little worse.
However, I did call Nazlı (who at this point probably wanted to have me committed) and informed her that, if I didn't call her in an hour, I was dead and to call the police. A solid plan, as plans go.

So I left the safety of my home and headed to 'the fountain' to meet Greg. He brought wine in coffee tumblers for us to share as we took our walk. Literally the only demand my mother has ever made of me is: never drink from an open container, and what do I do?

I drink it and repeatedly ask him if he's going to murder me, that's what.

Despite all of the horrible ways this could have gone, I made it out OK and we actually had a pretty good time. I was excited that someone had the same sense of humor I did and a similar drive to make it happen in this city. We parted and agreed to see each other again.

Then the hurricane happened and I never heard from him again.
My friends maintain that he probably didn't make it out alive, but I sincerely hope, Greg, that you're just a typical guy who never called.

4. Letting Go
This year I learned that it is perfectly alright to sever ties with someone you once considered a close friend. This was not a particularly fun experience, but taking the risk of giving up on someone who meant a lot to me has actually paid off in the end. Growing is the way-of-all-things, and growing apart happens.

In my experience, one of my best friends and I stopped seeing eye to eye in a major way. I'm not entirely sure how we progressed to the mess we ended in, but I know that I found myself feeling harassed by someone that was taking, taking, taking what I'd given, and who was giving nothing but hurt in return. I'm sure she felt hurt by me, too, but attempting to find out what exactly I'd done became time consuming and fruitless and exhausting. I found myself lacking the fighting spirit to navigate through all the name-calling and pull it back together.

This was terrifying. She had been one of my closest friends for years and was an integral part of two of my dearest friend groups. I was wary of putting those groups at risk and making things 'weird' for everyone, and I was also really scared that somehow I would end up alone. But things came to a head and I finally had to say enough, and let it go. I had to stop answering baited text messages. I had to stop worrying about the effects this was going to have on other people. Because, really, it was having the biggest effect on me, and my life, and my happiness.

So I cut the cord. And it was painful. It still makes me sad, in a way. However, it empowered me to surround myself with people who lift me up, rather than bring me down. My other friendships were strengthened, and I really feel as though I'm in a better place.

3. Reaching Out
In high school, I had a wondrous broken-hearted-teenage-love saga that has pretty much shaped all of my romantic relationships up to this point. It was a secret crush, that turned into a friendship, that almost turned into a ?, that left me hanging for a solid part of my teenage years. Looking back, it all feels strangely similar to this:

One thing is for sure: being left hanging screws you up way more than rejection does. I have serious trust issues (don't we all) and I think the root of it lies in the horror of possibly being taken for a ride again. So how do you fix that in yourself? If you're me, the first step is to gather your wits and reach out to your friend/the ex-object of your affections who you've been estranged from for four years.
While home for the holidays, we met and caught up over a few drinks. I was nervous going into it, but genuinely curious as to what ever became of him. Despite all those years of my love-worn journaling, we actually had managed to form a close friendship, so it was important to find out if he was doing OK.
And, turns out, he is. It was so easy jumping back into our rapport. My anxieties went right out the window and I really enjoyed slipping back into our rhythm. He's still a match for my sass, and that's saying a lot, people.
So reaching out, while terrifying at first, had a big payoff for me. The ease and normalcy of it all reminded me that I am nowhere near the confused little girl I was in high school, and it gave me the chance to let go of those silly insecurities that I had been holding on to with a vice-like grip. Taking a risk to put myself back into a place where I had previously been so vulnerable took a lot of courage, and ultimately changed me for the better.

2. Driving
I have always been convinced that my death will be the result of a freak motor-vehicle accident. It's completely morbid, I know, but that's all part of my charm. So it's safe to say that I can get slightly high-strung while,
a.) in the passenger seat of anyone else's car (it's a control thing), and
b.) driving somewhere new and/or dangerous.
And by high-strung, I mean like an antelope running from a pack of predators, high-strung.

Surprisingly, I did really well when the time came to drive the bustling streets of New York City. In a 14' moving truck.

I had to move from my first apartment on November 29th and decided to rent a U-Haul and round up some friends, in order to save a few bucks. Well, since the truck was in my name, I had to drive the monstrosity from the depot to my apartment across town. And then parallel park. Luckily for me, I had Nazlı and another friend in the cab with me to give words of encouragement and record the experience for posterity.

The Terror on 23rd Street

Making that drive and doing it in a mostly composed manner was a great victory for me. Risk taken, fear conquered! 

And onto the biggest risk I think I have ever taken... 

1. Leaving NYU
In October of this year, I hit a wall. While attempting to deal with the fact that I was completely and utterly miserable in my program, I finally took a step back and admitted that Speech-Language Pathology is not for me.

I am, and always have been, an actor, and that is the direction in which I need to take my life.

This decision was not taken lightly. I've had to come to terms with the perils of the lifestyle I am choosing. I've had to face my fear of disappointing the people who love me. I've had to swallow the lump in my throat and fight the anxiety that comes with saying "I am dropping out of school".

Doesn't that just have the worst connotation? It still makes me cringe, but dropping out is exactly what I'm doing and I won't take it back. I have serious pride/perfectionism issues, and pushed myself to finish out my semester, however torturous these past months have been. I don't think many people could do that and succeed.

So here I am. Another struggling actor in New York City. I have a plan, as usual, but now I have to learn that you can only plan so much. The rest is an unknown, a ?, a risk. I am so excited to finally embrace who I am and what I love. I'm no longer dipping a toe in the water, I'm doing a cannonball and laughing all the way.

This year is quickly coming to a close. I took risks. I changed. I had some really stellar and strange and enlightening and crushing experiences. But the point of all that is: I'm still here and I've grown up and I'm striving to live my dream. What a payoff.

Looking ahead...

2013: Allow yourself to be vulnerable.

... What are you doing?

Rock Ya Like a Hurricane

The hurricane has come and gone, but New York is still feeling it. I have been lucky enough to escape Sandy's wrath with only minor inconveniences. I attribute this blessing to the amazing people in my life who have taken care of me for the past week.

On Saturday night (before the storm), some friends and I prepared to head out to a Halloween party. Always striving to be a topical smart-ass, I dressed as "Hurricane Sandy", taking care to make myself as messy and annoying as possible for the joke. Ha ha.

"Sandy" with her friend "Crying Kim Kardashian"

Little did we know that the storm would be much more than the warning everyone scoffed at.

On Sunday, I headed off to work in the UWS. I had some Halloween brownies all ready for the kids and was looking forward to a long day with the family. In the morning, we all trouped to a Halloween party at a kids' gym and enjoyed play time and music. I especially enjoyed little costumed babies running around everywhere!

It was only after the party, when we headed home for nap time, that I began to realize the gravity of the hurricane situation. My phone had a billion text messages from friends, roommates, and family reacting to the news that I was only just getting clued into: the trains were being shut off at 7PM, classes were canceled Monday, and my apartment was in Zone A-- which meant mandatory evacuation.

I'll be honest when I say I was a little freaked out. I have a tendency to get carried away with end-of-the-world fantasies, and all this panic at once was starting to do me in. Upon hearing the news themselves, my bosses, Mr. and Mrs. C, insisted that they drive me home to my apartment AND to Nazlı's place in Washington Heights, where I would be staying. Talk about kindness. I could have hopped on the train, gone home, grabbed some things, and trekked up to the Heights myself before 7PM (when the trains would be out), but the family made it a priority to make sure I was safe and settled as quickly as possible. I can't express how thankful I am for this gesture. How lucky am I to work for some truly wonderful people?

I made it to Nazlı's place around 4PM and we settled in for the storm with an impromptu costume party, some wine, and a cauliflower crust veggie pizza we (Nazlı) made from scratch. Was this evacuation or the best slumber party ever?

"Big turn out"-our friend Laura via facebook

We followed the news the best we could and, over the next few days, braced ourselves for the worst. Washington Heights lies pretty high above the Hudson River, so we had no worries of flooding, and our apartment was largely shielded from the strong storm winds. We have even been so lucky as to have had electricity, heat, and hot water throughout the storm.

Here, however, are some images from where I live in Zone A:

Water rushing through my apartment complex

Transformer blowing at the plant at the end of my street. I see this place from my bedroom windows every day... too scary.

When transit was semi-restored on Thursday, I made the trip downtown as far as I could, then walked 40 minutes to my apartment to assess the damage. I convinced myself I was in an episode of The Walking Dead while I was climbing 7 flights of stairs in absolute pitch-darkness. Where's that damn Carl kid when I need him? (If you don't get that, do yourself a favor and start watching this series on AMC)

Luckily- no damage to report other than the loss of nearly all the food in our fridge. I was worried the transformer explosion blew out our windows-- is that even a thing? I don't know, but bottom line: they were OK.

By Friday evening, the news was spreading that power had been restored! While I had truly been enjoying my rare friendship time with Nazlı, I was anxious to get back into my routine and get out of her (and her roommate's) hair. It is definitely hard to be out of your own space for longer than you expect. I mean, I had assumed I'd be spending one night-- not an entire week! Knowing that I had 2 midterms on Monday plus a lot of other things to get in gear for (news of that to come in the future...) had me at a solid 8.5 on the Anxiety & Irritability Scale. All was not lost, however, because of two things:

1. Nazlı, while equally as irritated and stressed, puts up with my crap anyway.
2. Jake Gyllenhaal exists.

Okay, I'll admit we only initially wanted to see If There is I Haven't Found it Yet... because he was starring in it. Neither of us looked up what the play was about or kept up with critical reviews and we got $20 cheap seats in the last row. Effort points: 0.

HOWEVER: Once Friday night came, we realized that there was so much more to this show. Our seats were awesome, the performance was superb on every level (technical, direction, acting), and we even forgot that we were watching a celebrity on stage. We were impressed and our spirits were lifted! Huzzah!

Saturday came and I trekked home once more to see if we did indeed have power. Check! Thanks to the tireless efforts of ConEd, mta, and others, life is starting to feel more normal here in the city.

Sunday night after work, a full week after my evacuation, I finally moved back into my apartment. While there is certainly a lot left to be desired with this situation (our heat/hot water don't seem to be working, trains are spotty), it's good to be home.

Looking back on this week, I am once again reminded of all that I have to be thankful for. The greatest of thanks go out to all those who sheltered and looked after me, to those who checked in on and worried about me, and especially to those who are fighting to get New York back on track.

You're So Vain

Last post I boldly challenged myself to go without make up for a week. I set some ground rules (dress and do hair as I normally would, nothing on my face except moisturizer and chapstick) and started my journey full steam ahead!

It is with great courage that I move forward with this post.
[Note: I only took one picture for each day-- no glamorizing or posing or trying harder, I am what I am.]

Friday

I was completely enthusiastic at this point. I was having a decent hair day and I was ready to prove that what's on my face has nothing to do with who I am. I took notes during the day. One I find particularly telling is as follows:

"1PM: Forgot I'm naked faced! Its also pouring down rain and awful out so I feel like there is more leeway for looking like a hot mess. Thanks for the support, Mother Nature"

So the bold, fearless, naked face woman who left the house that morning melted into a self-deprecating one by early afternoon. Did I really look like a hot mess simply because I didn't have make up on?? Doubtful.

 Saturday

Struggles. This is me on the way to the gym. Emotionally, I was feeling motivated and excited with the way life was going (which is why I was headed to work out-- who am I?), but look at that face. Does my joy radiate out at all? No. I was already over-thinking the picture for this blog. Instead of being less preoccupied with the way I looked, I became even more so.

Things came to a head when, later that day, I was called to babysit for a family I had never met in Tribeca. For those of you who aren't familiar with the area, I'll put it simply: these people are loaded and wildly successful. Kind of intimidating, huh?

Instant reaction: panic. Oh my god they are going to be expecting a pretty nanny and their first impression of me will be as a tired little boy!!

So I cheated. Only a little, but still. I put on a little face powder and some mascara and went on my way, feeling way more relaxed at this tiny change.

Do I think the family judged me by my lack of va-va-voom? Honestly, I don't know. I don't have any other experiences to base my impressions on. But I do know that I assumed they did, and I let that stick with me all night long.

Sunday

Went to work tired, came home from work tired. Worried about more impressions all day. I must have looked beat, because in the park some mothers said to me, "Wow, these twins are yours? Must be a lot of work!" I wanted to say, Ladies, if I am 23 years old with toddler twins do you think we'd be playing in the Trump Plaza playground?? No, we'd be in line for foodstamps.

Monday

School time. I spent the morning tweaking out and decided that oh, I'd just wear my glasses to hide my exhausted eyes. I dressed and did my hair as I always do (I swear I brushed it, even though this shot says otherwise), and headed off to class. I spent the day, predictably, making jokes about what a wreck I am. Not as a way to fish for compliments, but so that I could make sure that everyone knew that I knew I looked the way I did.

You follow me?

Tuesday

Gym time again. Cue the humble 'well, this is it' look into the camera. Tyra would not be impressed.

And this is where the challenge comes to a screeching halt. Because after I returned home from my work out, I caved.

Some friends and I were going to How I Met Your Mother Trivia at McGee's Pub and there was NO WAY I was going to show up looking insecure. I put on my make up and joyfully headed out for a night of fun.


Here's where the break-through happened: The feminist inside of me is dying a little as I say it, but wearing make up is a way for me to be confident in my self presentation. Stepping outside of the situation, I know that I don't even abuse the privilege, so is it really all that wrong to gloss over some of my 'imperfections' if it eases my anxiety and makes me happy?

What's on my face does have to do with who I am. It shows that I am well put together. It shows that I care what impression I make on people who know me and people who don't know me. That's me in a nutshell: I've got it (mostly) together and I care. I'm a perfectionist. There's no denying it.

I know we aren't 'supposed' to care what others' think. But having a little make up on gets me to that level. I worried more about my image without it than I ever had with the little bit of flourish I sport daily.

In addition, I learned that failure is in the eye of the beholder. Yep, here's another week-long challenge I didn't exactly complete. But after I got on with my life, I had a great rest of the week.

I had an amazing time at trivia (5th place out of 21 teams, yeah!) and I didn't worry about my face.
I had an amazing day Wednesday and I didn't worry about my face.
I am having a solid Thursday and haven't worried about my face.

'Failure' is a technicality. But in the end, my last few days have made me feel like a winner because I was finally able to get outside of myself and focus on the awesome people filling my life with equally awesome experiences.

---

Off topic, but I'll leave you all with this sentiment. After my very first yoga class at Yoga to the People this morning, our instructor lead us out with a reading of "The Voice", by Shel Silverstein. I found it extremely poignant.

There is a voice inside of you
That whispers all day long,
“I feel that this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong.”
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What’s right for you– – just listen to
The voice that speaks inside.

Remember: we're all on our own journey. We are going to stumble, learn from it, and keep moving forward. The only person you need to answer to is yourself. Listen to your voice.

Three Little Things

Again, I have proven myself to be unworthy of the challenge of writing my three best things every day. I only missed one day entirely, but I have to admit that there were a few I retrospectively scribbled down the morning (ok--- afternoon) after. I also found it very difficult to write what really made me happy since I knew I would be posting them. There was a lot of self-imposed pressure to be witty and not lame. Unfortunately, I find myself to be NOT witty and EXTREMELY lame most often in my private moments, so I apologize if what comes next bores you to tears.

10/10/12
1. Just found out Ryan Gosling lives 3 blocks from me.
2. Watching the "human tunnel" get water dumped on them outside of Pinkberry.
3. The view from Hallie's roof-- WOW. I live in New York City! The view makes the magic.

10/11/12
I forgot... what a waste of that once-in-a-lifetime date.

10/12/12
1. Can cross 'vegetarian sushi' off of my NYC list!
2. Spent a good part of my day wrapped up in Harry Potter... this story still does it for me.
3. Texting Nazlı about some of our best memories. So lucky to have her in my life.

10/13/12
1. Drinking wine and margaritas ALL NIGHT with Nazlı.
2. Quick visit with Andy and Lexi... tons of giggles and CUPCAKES.
3. The staff at our dinner place were really really sweet (The Aquamarina, 171st & Bway?)

10/14/12
1. Z saying "Go to her!" when A was crying... literally so precious. [Note: Z & A are 2 y.o. twins I nanny for]
2. The babies knew my name today-- and it was only my 2nd day of work!
3. Used my hot pink hand mixer baking chocolate chip pumpkin cookies :)

10/15/12
1. Staying up late and sharing everything with Chazie.
2. So pleased with my peers' work on Sweeney Todd. Entire production was impressive and I was proud to watch the show with its world's creators.
3. So many hugs and smiles and laughs with some people that I've missed without realizing it!

10/16/12
1. Wine milkshake and Chazie's homemade pizza. Hello heart attack.
2. Meetings today. Two with old professors, one with an old friend. All made me realize that I am growing, I am cared about, and that I'm not doing half bad.
3. Even though my bus home had a serious delay that's pretty inconvenient, I could not have a nicer, more patient or pleasant bus driver. This woman deserves the big bucks. Also, the trip refund and complimentary round trip from megabus didn't hurt.

10/17/12
1. No lab today was a nice break. Good for my sanity.
2. I think Russell Stover's dark chocolate coconut creme pumpkins are the best things I have ever tasted. Damn.
3. Nobody could hold me back from navigating the library like a boss today.


So, all in all, I have a lot of little things to be thankful for. It was a nice pick-me-up to go through them again tonight and I'm glad that I challenged myself to do this. I still want to do better, though.

Next up... 

New York has made me more image conscious than I have been in a long time. It is truly the place where the beautiful people flock to. I spend a lot of time worried about my appearance, and in retrospect I think a lot of that time is wasted. Plus, that kind of fixation is unhealthy. SO. I am now embarking upon a new challenge: No make up for a week.

How will it change me? Will I make better use of my time in the mornings? Will I be less inclined to go out? Will I still get creeped on by those dirty old men on every corner in this town?

I guess I'll find out.

Optimism, engage.

I have to admit: my nearly month-long absence from the blogosphere is directly related to the absence of joy in my life. I've spent the past month being pretty miserable, whether I deserved to be or not, and deemed it unnecessary to prattle about on here pretending to be an optimist.

Well, here's where the winds of change kick in, people. Optimism, engage.

A friend from high school once told me that she kept a journal containing three things she was thankful for each day. Over the years I have tried to make this habit my own, but tend to fall off the wagon after a day or two. Looking back through my little "thankful book", the entries are very spread out and mostly talk about food. No really, I've counted six entries that say, "My bagel today was delicious". You can tell that was one of the rough days.

After spending so much of my time complaining and bemoaning my current unhappiness, I have decided that I need-- pardon my French-- a swift kick in the ass back into joy-ville. Why am I wasting my time and energy and words with misery? It's like a poison that has been leeching into every area of my life and it needs to stop. Taking the time to give myself a daily reminder of the things I can draw joy from is the best place to start.

So here I go: I challenge myself to take a daily inventory of the things I am thankful for, without fail, for the next week.

I have imposed one rule for myself: My entries can have nothing to do with grades, completing homework assignments, or anything related to academic performance. That isn't real joy. That isn't what life is about.

To jump-start this "assignment", I'll give three things that I (should) have been thankful for since September.

1) This e-mail from my undergraduate advisor. He always makes me laugh, and this message in particular lifted my spirits. It's funny to look back and think about how scared I was of him in my early years at college, and how, now, he has been such a rock and guide for me as I stumble down the path to a master's degree. "Don't you just love it when a plan comes together?"

2) My friends, old and new. I've somehow managed to compile a mix-matched crew with the best sense of humor. No doubt about it, these faces have kept me sane and made me feel loved and appreciated, even when I don't deserve it.

At David'sTEA during my "Birthday Weekend Extravaganza!" These folks (+Lexi) made it one of the best celebrations I've ever had. 

New friends out for the night in the LES last weekend.

3) Mom & Jordan came to visit! I am so lucky to have been a part of my brother's first taste of the Big Apple. We saw the sights, ate the eats, and walked til we dropped. The fact that he was chosen to participate in the Blue Man Group's show was only surpassed by our excellent visit to Five Pointz in Long Island City, Queens. I know that was definitely his favorite part! This sight was a great expanse of warehouses that were completely covered in graffiti-- commissioned by the owners, of course. It is amazing what these people can do with cans of spray paint! We were all sad to learn that they're planning to tear it down and build apartments there next year. If you want to have a say in this, check out their website and sign the petition to keep this space for art! Here was my favorite work of the trip:

Funky take on Beauty and the Beast?

Even now, remembering these three things has lifted my spirits and put a smile on my face. I seriously encourage everyone to give it a try. 

I'll check in again with the full effects a week from today!

5 Things I've Learned in Grad School

I have finally finished my first full week of Graduate School and, boy, is my head spinning. Insanely, I opted to take on my program's intensive track, leaving me with a nice, round, 16-credit/ 7 class schedule this fall. Why this option doesn't come with a psychological fitness examination is beyond me. So, while drowning in the misery brought on by this horrible week, I will attempt to focus on the positive: my education.

I present... 5 Things I've Learned in Grad School (so far)

5. You don't have time for the drama.
Unlike some of your old classmates from your undergraduate institution, you have things to do. Since you're not busy living at your parents' house and working in retail, you just don't have the time to type up unnecessarily snide and mean-spirited notes, like they do. It's a hard job, but someone has to grow up and take the high road. Take heart in the fact that, while they're building up their bad karma, you'll be collecting nice, fat cosmic paychecks in no time. Hopefully, some literal paychecks will turn up, too.

4. Always lend a helping hand.
I know, I know, this one sounds too precious to be legit. But it is, I promise you! Offering help can lead to some pretty great things. Namely: friendship. I learned this my second day of class. While walking to my 10AM Voice Disorders course, I saw a girl struggling with the door to the building our class was in. Having made this mistake myself this summer, I stopped and informed her of the wackiness of this building's configuration: In order to get to our "building", we had to enter through the "building" connected to it and navigate down a through-way to the elevator bank that serviced "our building". Why the doors to the place we need to go are constantly locked is a mystery, but from then on out I had a buddy. Another bonus: making one new friend almost always ensures that others come with it! Which leads to my next discovery...

3. Happy Hour was invented for a reason.
BOOZING.

Ok, so that's a part of it, but not why it's important. Happy Hour is a great excuse to take a break from all that education. Its also the perfect casual environment to meet new people and get to know others better. Plus, drinks are half off. Talk about a deal! My university's Graduate Student Organization held a Happy Hour Social last week where I got a nice opportunity to meet a few new first year grads, as well as pick the brain of my program mentor. It got me really excited for my program and I felt like I really 'clicked' with many of my peers. This week a few of my "Speechie" friends and I gathered at one of my favorite little places, Rue B, for half off drinks and appetizers. So delicious, so cathartic, so wallet-friendly. If you aren't using Happy Hour to your advantage, I encourage you to hop on this train. Your brain and your social life will thank you.

2. Go out on a limb.
Sometimes it's easy to get caught up in all the work and getting that perfect grade. Yes, we're all already freaking out about it. No, its not going to stop. But it doesn't have to be the only thing in your life. You can take a chunk of that "study time" you're using (on Facebook) and join a club. I did, and so far it has been a great little reward for getting through my busy Wednesday schedule. After my intense hump day, I head over to one of my professor's apartments and meet a group of ten other students (ranging from undergraduates to doctoral candidates) to sing. Its undoubtedly a tiny, sort-of-unorganized gathering, but we sound pretty darn good after two rehearsals. It reminded me how much I missed singing in a group and definitely brought on some strong memories from my "Top 21" days. It puts a positive spin on my day and still leaves me with enough time to read, take notes, analyze, write, and grade grub.

1. Persevere. Persevere. Persevere.
I knew taking this step in my education would be far from a casual stroll in the park, but I thought I would have some kind of map or crack-spirit guide to accompany me on the journey. Not so. I've come to the bitter realization that I'm wandering alone in the Forbidden Forest of my master's program. I'm pretty much lost in regards to every aspect of my enrollment. What is my course plan for the next two years? Why don't my professors answer e-mails? Where can I get a quesadilla?

(Ok, that last one was a joke, but someone really asked that in one of my lab sessions last week when our TA opened the floor for questions. Can't knock her comedic timing.)

Lately I've felt completely out of step with myself. I've gone from feeling like I have zero information on pretty much anything to do with my program, to feeling overwhelmed by being doused with important needed-to-know-this-yesterday information at the last minute. It's a lot for someone like me (read: type A) to handle. I like to have all my ducks in a row, and right now... this is what my ducks are doing:

HOWEVER, "persevere, persevere, persevere" is the motto that's going to get me through this (even though I swore to Nazlı that it was "It's five o'clock somewhere"). Even though I'm lost in the woods, there's a path in there just waiting for me to stumble upon it. If I have to do it completely alone, so be it. That's life. It might be fun. It might make me lighten up a bit. It might be... anything.

Persevere, persevere, persevere

It's "See you later"...

This weekend my family made the decision to put our dog, Maggie, to sleep. My family spent all day Friday laying with her in our basement, trying to make her as comfortable as they could, and hoping that she would pass on her own. She made it through the night, however, and was in such poor shape Saturday morning they decided that visiting the vet was the best thing to do. I was pretty devastated that I couldn't be there to see her out, but I'm happy that she had the rest of my loving family there with her in her final moments.

They buried her under one of the big pine trees in our backyard ("her" tree, as we've grown to call it), and surrounded her with some of her favorite toys and blanket. My mom found a really nice headstone for her, and my younger brother took care making the spot very special. Being away from home was downright horrible, but they made a great effort to include me with pictures and phone calls.

While I lost one dear friend, I'm thankful for another who did everything right helping me deal with my grief that day. Nazlı came straight to my apartment after work toting a dozen pink mini-cupcakes. We ate oatmeal and sat around. It was good not to be alone. When I was ready, she let me pull out some old photos I had of Maggie through the years and listened to some favorite memories of mine I felt compelled to share. It was nice to remember the Christmas we received that tiny white puppy in the big red box, opened last of all our presents that morning. It was fun to laugh at the "reindeer poop" that covered my brother's gifts that day (Mom and Dad-- big snafu there!), and how I thought I'd received a kitten named "Magic" (I was overwhelmed with joy-ok?).

Look at how tiny she was! 

Nazlı listened, didn't push me to "feel my feelings", and brought desserts. These acts of friendship were simple, but so powerful. Maybe even more than she knew. I realized that being there for someone isn't quite the big complex gesture we sometimes think it is, and that this kind of support can be overwhelming in times of grief. Nazlı's simple friendship was my greatest comfort that day. I wish for all of you to have a friend like this.

Day two of knowing we are pet-less has been weird for a few reasons. Mostly because it feels like a bad dream; I feel removed mentally from the situation as well as physically. I haven't experienced the weird quiet in my childhood home like the rest of my family has. I don't know what that is going to be like. I guess I will find out soon enough.

But, adding to the weirdness, my mom frantically texted me this morning with the following message:

"I was just sitting in Maggie's chair in the kitchen crying with my head down... when I raised it and looked out the window... the next pics are what I saw!"

At first glance my heart stopped. I thought it was Maggie running down from her tree to bound through the back door. Then I realized, as I'm sure you have, that it was a cat. A pure white cat taking her place. I called my mom immediately and she went on to describe how the cat had come down through Maggie's path, turned, and headed up to Maggie's grave under the pine, and sat there. My Dad had even called out a hopeful "Maggie!", just because it was so supernatural. The cat, who none of us had ever seen in the neighborhood before, stood and exited our yard through our back fence (through which Mags had escaped many times). 

This event has been strangely comforting to me all day. I don't know what it means, but I believe it means something good. 

Rest in peace, Maggie. You were an extraordinary member of the family. I'm glad I got to see you as your perky self before you went. This was, perhaps, the greatest of all the gifts you have ever given me. Thank you for being strong for me and making our last moments together so joyous. You will be sorely missed but never, ever forgotten. Love and belly rubs. 

Many heartfelt thank you's to all friends and family who have expressed their condolences over the past few days. Your love and support make it easier to focus on her life and what she added to my family, rather than the sadness that accompanies her passing.

As my second week of graduate school approaches, I'll keep the joy and positive thoughts you've shared with me close to my heart and hang on.

Sweet, sweet victory

Pack up your whites, folks, because Summer is over. Another Labor Day has come and gone, and now we have cool and cozy Autumn to look forward to. As always, I'm one step ahead and have been burning my "Pumpkin Caramel Latte" and "Spiced Apple Cider" candles for about a week now. I absolutely adore Fall, with its crisp weather and flavors, and intend to draw this year's out for as long as I can.

That being said, I was determined to pay Summer its final respect at our informal Labor Day picnic in Central Park this year. I needed to come up with an easy travel dessert (no one likes carrying crushed creations from the subway) that embodied sweet Summertime, and settled my sights on chocolate chip zucchini bread. Zucchini is one of my favorite veggies, and I'm bummed that I didn't eat more of it this season. What a perfect time to play catch up! This loaf definitely has 'dessert' written all over it when you toss in those chocolatey morsels, and the zucchini can be your excuse to lose all that goody-guilt and indulge. Plus, this was a great chance for me to tackle my nemesis: bread.

OK, so its not your classic bread, but you've got to win some battles before you can win the war.

And boy-- did I win! Its safe to say this baby was to-die-for delicious, and still warm when I sat down to nosh with my friends at the Bethesda fountain (I'll be sure to inclue the recipe for all you bakers at the end of this post, you do not want to miss this).

Happy Labor Day!

My dear friend Nazlı brought some yummy pasta salad chock-full of goodies like tomatoes, green olives, pinto beans, and black-eyed peas, to name a few. Finger's crossed she'll post the recipe on her blog, Good Food for Good Soul, and we can all steal it. She was also smart enough to bring plastic bowls and spoons for all of us to use, while I toted some wimpy napkins and a prayer to assist in the serving of my contribution. You see why I need her, right? 

Our party was completed when Andy showed up with the wine, and the three of us enjoyed the breezy afternoon on our blanket. That was until wrestle-mania began just inches from our spot. No, really.

"You wanna tussle?"

We were not amused. And their caretaker was not concerned. Kids.

While it did cause quite the disturbance, it gave us some pretty good laughs and inspired Nazlı to follow through on her Caramel Apple Onion prank. Note to self: accept no treats from this girl.

All in all, I spent Summer's last hurrah just the way I like to spend my days: with good food and even better friends. It was a greatly appreciated and satisfying end to one of the most whirlwind summers of my life, and I look forward to jumping into Autumn in the same manner.

As promised, here's your new favorite recipe. Victory is sweet, y'all.

Bon Appetit!

Chocolate Chip Zucchini Bread
Ingredients:

2 cups whole wheat flour
2 tbsp unsweetened cocoa
1 1/4 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
3/4 cup sugar
3 tbsp vegetable oil
2 eggs
1 cup unsweetened applesauce (this recipe has enough sugar; trust me, you do not miss out on flavor with the unsweetened variety)
1 1/2 cups finely shredded zucchini (use your food processor for an extra time saver!)
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

Instructions:
1. Preheat oven to 350F. In a medium bowl, combine flour, cocoa, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt, whisking together until well mixed.
2. In a large bowl, combine sugar, vegetable oil, and eggs until thoroughly blended. Stir in your applesauce.
3. Add the flour mixture to the sugar mixture, blending just until smooth, and stir in zucchini and chocolate chips.
4. Spray a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan with cooking spray, and spoon in batter. Bake for 45-60 minutes, or until a wooden toothpick can be removed cleanly from the center. Cool for 10 minutes in the pan, then remove and cool completely on a wire cooling rack.

Vegetable Pot Pies

Hello all! I've got my chef's hat on today and decided to make myself some comfort food. I found this delicious recipe in one of the vegetarian cookbooks that had been gathering dust in my parents' kitchen cabinets, and decided to adapt it with a slightly healthier twist. By using less oil and fat, and adding more "whole" ingredients, I think I took this recipe from fantastic to phenomenal.

On an eerie note, the Creepy Twin Brain has struck again between my best friend, Nazlı, and I. (You can check out her fun food blog, Good Food for Good Soul, here!) We have this habit of thinking exactly alike without any prompting or warning. As I was typing this, she called to see what I was up to, and I told her about my successful kitchen foray. She laughs and goes, "I was looking at pot pie recipes last night and was calling to tell you we should make vegetarian ones together". No lie.

So that leaves me with the question, am I being controlled by gypsy Turkish mind tricks? And is it really a bad thing if I get delicious food out of the deal? Thoughts?

Ok, let's get out of the twilight zone and into the kitchen. Here's what you need and what you'll need to do to get yourself some yummy, gooey, and healthy veggie pot-pies!

(A traditional instruction list is situated at the bottom of this post, for all you quitters.)

Individual Vegetable Pot Pies
Preparation time: 40 minutes
Total cooking time: 45 minutes
Yield: 6

Ingredients

• 1 medium potato, peeled, cut into small cubes
• 1 large carrot, peeled, cut into small cubes
• 1 cup small broccoli florets
• 1/2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
• 1/2 onion, finely chopped
• 1 red pepper, cut into small cubes
• 3 1/2 tbsp margarine (or your favorite non-dairy substitute)
• 2 tbsp whole-wheat flour
• 1 1/2 cups almond milk (or another non-dairy substitute) 
• 1 cup cheddar cheese (I used Galaxy Nutritional Foods' Rice Shreds... tastes exactly the same and only 70 calories for 1/3 cup!!!)
• 2 egg yolks
• Black pepper, to taste
• 2 sheets ready-rolled puff pastry
• 1 egg, lightly beaten
• 1 tsp sesame seeds (the original recipe called for poppy seeds, but I couldn't find them and swapped)

Now, seeing as I am only one person, and own only one rameken, I decided to make only one pot pie at a time. These are surely best eaten the same day that they are baked, and, though I could try, it's not likely I could devour all six in that time frame. Simple fix for an abundance of food? Tupperware, duh! Then you have something to dig into the rest of the week! 
 

"Before everything else, getting ready is the secret to success" ~ Henry Ford

Before you take the leap into cooking, make sure to prepare all of your ingredients. There are a lot of things happening simultaneously in this recipe, and it will work in your favor to have everything chopped, peeled, and measured from the get go!

After you've prepped your kitchen, preheat your oven to 415 degrees Fahrenheit and defrost your pastry sheet. I bold this because, true to form, I skipped this part. I urge you not to.

Next, steam your potato, carrot, and broccoli until tender. Drain well and place in a large bowl. At the same time, heat your oil in a frying pan and cook the onion and red pepper over medium heat for about 2 minutes, until they're nice and soft. Transfer them to the bowl.

Tip: if there's too much oil left over in your pan, don't just blindly dump it into your veggie mix. Hold the pan level and use a fork to lift your onion and pepper bits up and out. This will save you from extra fat consumption and will let the awesome flavors of the vegetables take center stage.

Now you're ready for your cheese sauce.

Yes, it is supposed to look like this! Take a breath, chef.

Heat the margarine in a sauce pan and add the flour. Stir over low heat for 2 minutes, or until lightly golden. If you look at the photo above, you'll notice things look kind of weird. But, rest assured, all is going well and your sauce is going to be phenom. 

Add your milk gradually; stir until smooth. I used a whisk to better combine my ingredients (how kitchen savvy am I?). Continue stirring over medium heat for 3 minutes, or until the mixture boils and thickens. Boil for another minute, then remove from the heat and cool slightly. Add the cheese and egg yolks (here is a tutorial on how to separate the yolks, just in case you need it) to the sauce and stir to combine. Season your sauce to taste. I only used black pepper, but there's room for salt, cayenne pepper, or anything else your tastebuds crave. Just be sure to add with caution and taste test along the way!

Add the sauce to the vegetables and stir to combine. Fill your ramekin with the mixture, and refrigerate the left overs for later. Cut a circle from the pastry sheet to--

Uh oh, did you forget to defrost like I told you? We're cut from the same cloth, aren't we? Well, here's a quick fix: take them from the freezer as soon as you remember, and leave them on top of your preheated oven to speed the thawing process. If they're still not ready when you are, use that time to do some clean up. You'll be glad you did later.

So, cut that circle from your pastry sheet to fit the top of the ramekin and press the edges to seal. Really try to make a tight seal there because, mid-bake, the sauce can bubble over and create quite the mess. Mine did exactly that.

(Quick fix: Simply put the ramekin in a cake tin or other oven-safe baking dish to prevent the overflow from burning to your oven floor!)

Brush the pastry top with the lightly beaten egg and sprinkle your seeds on. Make sure you refrigerate the beaten egg for use on your leftovers! It should keep for up 2-3 days if you mix in a little bit of water and seal the container tightly.

Now, bake the pot pie for 25-30 minutes, or until beautifully golden brown. I suggest a solid 25 minutes for cooling, as well. I know the wait will be tough, but not having a singed mouth (aka- "pizza flap") is the gift that keeps on giving. Lift the pastry cover up with a fork to give it an extra nudge in the cooling direction.

Then, the best part! Dig in!

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven to 415∘F and defrost one puff-pastry sheet.
2. Steam the potato, carrot, and broccoli until just tender. Drain well and place in a large bowl. Heat the oil in a frying pan and cook the onion and red pepper over medium heat for 2 minutes, until soft. Add to the bowl.
3. Heat the margarine in a sauce pan and add the flour. Stir over low heat for 2 minutes or until lightly golden. Add the milk gradually, stirring until smooth. Stir over medium heat for 3 minutes or until the mixture boils and thickens. Boil for another minute, then remove from the heat and cool slightly. Add the cheese and egg yolks to the sauce and stir to combine. Season to taste.
4. Add the sauce to the vegetables and stir to combine. Fill ramekin with vegetable mixture, and refrigerate the rest for the future. Cut a circle from the pastry to fit the top of the ramekin and press the edges to seal. Brush with beaten egg and sprinkle with poppy seeds. Refrigerate the beaten egg for future use (will keep up to 6 days).
5. Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until golden brown.

Home on the Range

This past weekend I trekked home to celebrate my parents' August birthdays. And you're right-- two Leos under one roof is just as dangerous as it sounds! But it sure can be exciting. There were no major battles this visit, which set the stage for some good conversation and even better food!

Jordan, my "little" brother, known to the ladies as the "Silver Fox" due to his beautifully premature gray head of hair, picked our birthday celebration location. His expensive taste led us to a great seafood restaurant on top of Pittsburgh's picturesque Mount Washington, called Monterey Bay. Sticking with family tradition, we abandoned our pre-made reservation in favor of a table in the bar area, where we landed a truly spectacular view with the bonus of some good 'ol rock-n-roll to serenade us.

Black & Yellow

As a soon-to-be 10 year vegetarian, there was very little I could dive into on the restaurant's menu (the cocktail list is an entirely different story-- Champagne + Grey Goose + Chambord = French Kiss? Oui oui!). While my family grappled with the extensive list of seafood and the un-listed chef specialties, I decided to go out on a limb and try the crazier of my two salad options. I thoroughly enjoyed my bed of baby spinach, topped with pistachios, blood oranges, goat-cheese-stuffed medjool dates, and a blood orange vinaigrette. I didn't get a picture of it because I was too busy scarfing it down, like a lady. 

We ate, we drank, we laughed, we joked, and Mom and I even splurged on desserts (to DIE for). If conversation dwindled at any point throughout the rest of the weekend, one of us was compelled to comment on how amazing our family dinner on the Mount had been. 

While I had specifically returned to Steel Town to celebrate my folks, the timing happened to coincide with a less-than-celebratory series of events my family is facing. Our beloved ball chaser, squirrel hunter, toe licker extraordinaire, Maggie, is beginning to quickly decline from liver disease. Even at the ripe age of 12, Maggie has had the energy of a young puppy. Ignoring her arthritic joints, she has been known to rocket off her chair in the kitchen, out the back door, and up the hill in our back yard after enemy squirrels. We always forget how old she really is and have to think about it when visitors ask us her age. 

May the odds be ever in your favor, vermin.

As recently as this May, however, things began to change. When I returned home from college, I pointed out that she looked awfully bloated and suggested a visit to the vet. The vet did some tests and came to the conclusion that Maggie's liver was no longer working properly, and that fluid was leaking from it into her abdomen. The best we could do for her was to drain it. Each time the fluid was tapped Maggie seemed to go right back to her sprightly self. The worrying thing, though, was that the amount of fluid was increasing and time between drainings was decreasing. It has been a consistent 750 mL drain lately, which is the amount of liquid in your basic wine bottle. Unfortunately, my dog isn't filled up with Italy's finest Chianti; she's gorged with ammonia-laden liquid which is beginning to affect her neurological system. 

On the Monday before I flew home, my dad called to inform me of the drastic changes that Maggie was going through. All of a sudden she was becoming disoriented, walking in circles, and even appearing to go blind for brief spells. Her lack of appetite has her at a painful 13 lbs, and her breathing is labored, at best. The vet had been consulted and, after performing another abdominal tap, suggested that my family start making decisions about the rest of Maggie's life.

If you know my dog, I know you are just as flabbergasted as I was. How did this insane, spunky, yappy terrier turn so fast? 

If you know my parents, the fact that they decided to prep me with this news, rather than hide it, signals that things are getting deathly serious. Really-- last year I was on the phone with my mom, just chatting away, while she left out the fact that she was in the emergency room with my grandmother, who had broken her femur and laid undiscovered on her bedroom floor for four hours before a neighbor came over. My parents do NOT tell me these things over the phone. So it hit pretty hard when I got this call. 

I was prepared for the worst when I finally made it home. My parents had Maggie's stomach tapped in hopes that it would perk her up for my visit. I think it did the trick, because, for the most part, I was met with my waggy best friend again. True, she really wouldn't eat, and she stood for long periods of time with her nose against walls (weird, right?), but she spent some quality time gnawing on her toys and even ran off after a squirrel. I was so unbelievably happy that I could see these glimpses of the real Maggie, rather than the sad decline my parents had been dealing with. 

I'm pretty sure that today was the last time I'll ever hold my dog. Probably our final chin-scratch and stinky-breath dog licks. I hope that when I return home in November for the holiday she'll be there to greet me, but Disney prepared me with all that "Circle of Life" stuff, so I'm not getting that hope up too high. But, gee, wouldn't just one more holiday with that pooch be the ultimate reason to be thankful?

Life is full of ups and downs; we all know this. It's important to remember those up-swings, though, because the downs have a tendency to drag you with them. Don't take your time for granted. Make the most out of it, because then you'll have something strong to hold on to when life takes on a gloomy turn. I have a great family dinner to cling to, and, even though our family may be shrinking in the near future, it's memories like these that make it possible to smile at the time you've had, and make peace with the time you're going to lose.

The Worst Irish Soda Bread Ever.

I am going to start this post off defending my baking skills. I am particularly good at whipping up a solid batch of cookies or an exotic cheesecake (with NO cracks on the surface, thank you very much). But bread is a different story.

Bread and I do not get along. There is something so cosmically wrong with our relationship that we need an intervention. Earlier this summer, I attempted a loaf of Marbled Banana Bread that was a pretty epic failure. I neglected to add baking soda, so my loaf didn't rise, and I was left with a beautifully marbled banana brick.

Today, tragedy has struck my kitchen in the form of a wheel of 'sort of Paleo' Irish Soda bread. My deviations from the original recipe were mistakes. Biiiiig mistakes.

While initially skimming the recipe page, I decided that I'd substitute in some items I already had in my pantry in the name of saving a few bucks. Instead of almond milk, I used soy milk. Rather than almond flour, I used whole wheat flour. I replaced the caraway seeds with crushed walnuts (#yolo). Not too different right? That's what I thought. And I think I thought wrong.

Now when I got down to prepping my bread, I realized I didn't have any baking powder. I know, I know, what is my problem??  I was also too lazy to walk two blocks to the supermarket, so I went to my trusty friend, Google, for help. I ended up using a 1/4 tsp baking soda + 1 1/2 tsp lemon juice concoction that the internet told me to in place of the darned baking powder, and assured myself that everything would be okay.

I made a mess kneading the dough, but somehow, once it was in a nice bread-y ball in my pan, I thought, "Yeah, this is going to be great!", and popped that baby into the oven. Twenty-five minutes later I started to smell the beginnings of a burn, so I yanked it out. With my creation still looking promising (despite the burn smell), I left it to cool for a half hour before approaching it with my knife and plate.

Some photo fun, before disaster struck

As soon as I cut into the loaf I knew we had an issue. The soda bread looked suspiciously like my unrisen banana slab from last month, and the slice I took crumbled like the dreams of Jordyn Wieber at the end of the qualifying round for the Women's All-Around Gymnastic Finals in London (sorry girl, couldn't resist). Still, I tried to keep the faith, and grabbed some jelly and margarine from the fridge to supplement my creation.

Neither helped. It was awful. Salty with the consistency of crusty play-dough.

Now, as I sit on my kitchen counter pondering the fate of the rest of the cursed loaf, I am officially challenging myself to conquer BREAD.

I will make a delicious loaf of bread, sooner rather than later.
I will also read the recipe thoroughly and check my cabinets before proceeding.

Any and all baking tips are welcome and encouraged!

The Most Joyful Girl

When I'm idle I get antsy. In my relatively short life, I've used 'multi-tasking' as a gateway drug to 'over-tasking', often biting off more than I think I can chew. In many instances, however, I am pleased to find that I can handle just as much as I've bitten (my father would be only too happy to back me up on how big my mouth is), and maybe then some. Coming out of a challenge, no matter how big or small, gives me the most insane rush of joy. I live for that feeling.


After graduating with a B.A. in Theatre and a B.S. in Communicative Sciences & Disorders from my Undergraduate University (all in four years-- there's that over-tasking bug, again) this spring, I was jumping out of my skin with excitement at my impending out-of-state move to New York City for graduate school. By July 2nd, I was settled in to my new apartment and attending my first class as a grad: Neuroanatomy. Yikes.

While class was a bit intense, I made it through and even came out with a better appreciation for the human mind! Education at its finest. Plus, the short summer-semester time frame gave me a nice month long break to explore my new city. I've gone uptown, downtown, across town, and more. And there is still so much more ground to cover.

I've been blessed to have visitors nearly every weekend since I've been here. We've tackled everything from crossing the Brooklyn Bridge to appearing in a rap video. I kid you not. I'll share the experience once (if ever) the video becomes available.

On top of this, I'm starting to come into my own as a vegetarian chef and baker. The city has given me access to foods and ingredients I've never had before, and I've been spending some serious quality time with my new tiny kitchen.

All of my experiences in this new place have given me that sparkle of joy that I crave, and they've inspired me to share it.

Maybe I'll make you laugh. Maybe I'll teach you something new. Maybe I'll inspire you to challenge yourself. Or maybe none of those things will happen, and this blog will simply serve as another task on my To-Do list. Regardless, I'm looking forward to keeping busy.