Socially Speaking

I recently went to the SoMeBizLife conference at Delaware Valley College. My place of employment encouraged several of us to partake, not only because the social media side of business continues to grow, but our CFO presented. Yay, a chance to get out of my cubicle (which almost never happens, unless you count working out over lunches and the Yoga that’s brought in once a week…did I mention how lucky I am to work where I do?)

A large room full of all walks of business life gathered to hear key-note speakers talk about the social world. Some would find the sheer act of this gathering ironic; in the land of social, sharing, tweeting, tagging, Facebooking all takes place with your head down, typing frantically on your iPhone, blackberry or other smartphone. But this face-to-face interaction? We’ve become a culture of socially distracted, so much that it begs the question: Are we missing out on The Now?

Hey, I’m not one to judge or claim to not be guilty of the Facebook-FacePlant. My girlfriend, at a concert last night, asked me to, “take a picture of us and post it; you’re the Facebook Queen!” Proud or embarrassed? Not quite sure…I’m one of the most social people I know; love to entertain, travel, plan fun things...I'm constantly on the go, socially speaking. But as I looked down from the balcony at Johnny Brenda’s, I noticed that in-between sets of the three amazing bands (one being Cults, a killer band that just released a new album), 1 out of every 4 people, give or take, had their head down, thumbs frantic, screens ablaze. Pretty amusing and completely intriguing, getting me thinking about my own socialness. Am I social enough or impaired socially?

Back to the biz conference, the speakers were diverse in background and industry, which always fascinates me. I love being surrounded by intelligent people with a common interest, even if it doesn’t directly correlate with my background, the overlap intrigues. After a day of listening to the wide range of social-savvys, I took away pages of good information, useful sites and blogs that will delve even deeper into the social realm, and also, the idea that inspiration lies in social. The last speaker I attended actually hadn’t entered the official business world yet, but still remained at Temple, finishing his degree. The points and tips he gave during his presentation were poignant, well-thought out and well-spoken. His age alone motivated me; I vowed then and there I would become more involved, more active in my own success. He had already accomplished so much, been invited to national conferences by major players, and contributed to several well-read blogs and forums; he hadn’t even graduated! It was truly inspiring and lit a fire under my aspirations.

Having already achieved a certain level of social success, I’ve been contemplating the other realms of my life. The weight and balance of each sector as it relates to my over-all happiness, contentment, sense of accomplishment, sense-of self. Is what I’m doing enough to make a dent in the world? Not an easy question to ask myself. So I’ve had a lot to think about over the past week while gallivanting in New York, dinning at Black Fish, bending and stretching at Yoga and entertaining over the grill.

I realize I am biased and perhaps living in my own social bubble, but socially speaking, I’m all-in for what’s next.

Tick-Tock

Time has been on my mind lately. The passing of it, the way it stops for no one, for nothing. The way it can drag when you want it to fly, the way it flies when you wish it would stand still. How bizarre it can seem when you sit back and reflect on it. What can happen in such a short amount of it and how nothing can happen when extended periods stretch before you, seeming endless in one moment, fleeting in another. Patience, that virtue few posses, often helps with time, yet I am not one of those few. I hate to admit, but I may be one of those people who are very cognizant of the time, aware of how little there seems to be of it, how it’s literally disappearing as I sit and write this. That scares and exhilarates me equally, especially since as of late, time has been both a gift and a curse…

Just two short months ago, my life seemed superficially wrapped up. Not so much tied with a hand-crafted, Nordstrom bow, but tied up, figured out on the surface (although I’m not sure anyone ever figures everything out; how boring when that happens!). Even typing that, in those words, puts any doubt I had (none) about how things have come untied, to rest. That has been how I've felt. Untied. Released. From the time restraints that went along with what had been proposed to me (literally) as well as from what I had settled into. Time had lent complacency to me and when the events of March 12th unfolded, I returned it. The ride in the stolen car had started and when it ended, I had escaped.



Time was now mine.




Broad Street, a race that time seemed to fly for, took much of my time post March 12th. Training for that, the hours and distance runs I set aside for, propelled me forward both literally and figuratively. Having a goal after that which you thought would, no longer will, may be the best piece of advice I can give someone. When something doesn't work, take time to rearview mirror it, but don't stop and put the brakes on. Time marches on with or without you.


So with the race here, then gone, I not only exceeded a personal expectation by running it, I finished in 1:33:54. There's nothing like awakening from a deep sleep and hitting the ground running.


And the time kept filling up.



The act of reclaiming myself took no time at all. Suddenly, I had things to look forward to that I had orchestrated for myself and could take the minutes and hours of days not planned to do with what I wanted. There in lies the quandary I often find myself in. With time rushing by, having no pause or hesitation, shouldn't you use every single second, filling it with, well, everything? For that rare breed of high-energy folk, myself included, this can present a challenge for the NBC's (non-energizer bunny on crack) of the world. Keeping up may not even be the issue. The sheer act of listening to the projected plans of someone like me, just being the recipient of an email that spouts off upcoming events or dates to be filled, these things can overwhelm. Time flies when you're having fun and the post March 12th dates have done just that, leaving me thinking about how I doubt I'll take the time to slow down now.


Looking back on time, seeing what has happened since, puts a very wide smile on my face and leaves me to think of that which stretches ahead:

Time...Oh the things I will do with it.

Practicing the Present

In like a lion, out like a lamb. March, the month where hopes of spring bud within. The curses uttered about winter get louder, more vocal, and people start itching to get out. I know quite a few people who hibernate during these chilly months and rightfully so. I'm not judging this behavior or lack there of. There are plenty of winter-inside activities that are quite productive. Although, if you're like me, I've spent much of winter out and about, as in one of my earlier posts, Hibernation is not an option & I will not be beaten by that bitch (excuse my French).


It's been a whirlwind of a year thus far, and last month blew by (literally, I was sick for over a week!). My Yoga teacher, Dorothy O., reminds us that in our practice, we should focus on the here and now. Practice being present. Well, this has been quite a feat, let me just tell you. I come from a long-line of planners (hell, my grandmother kept a daily diary, for over twenty years, of her families happenings, of which there were nine members!) They do say practice makes perfect though, and with each Yoga session, I feel I have a better understanding of the present and how to root myself in it. And then I start thinking about the week ahead...

When flipping through my planner to glance at all of February's doings, it looks as though I was deeply rooted into the present and hurtling towards the future, with bright markers on the dates to prove it. It's almost as if I've tried to propel myself forward as fast as I could, to soak up as much as I could. I made a comment one afternoon, on one of me and my buddy's carpool discussions, "I feel like I'm running out of time..." He answered, quite bluntly, "You are."

Countdowns seem to be a theme, as I recently threw one of my best girlfriends a surprise engagement party. Having never before planned a surprise party, I was quite giddy with excitement! Only 5 months away from her big W day, I thought it would be quite fitting to gather with friends before nuptials are exchanged. With help from my girl Natalie, we pulled off the surprise party, with no one spilling the beans. The seconds flew by, the happy couple was thrilled and their day draws closer still...



In between and after the surprise, training days have been at the forefront of my mind as Broad Street draws close. Having several people reach out to lend useful tips, training schedules and running do's & don'ts, making the actual date seem quite real. 10 miles are coming along slowly, but surely, and I'm getting quite excited for May 1st, which is just around the corner...

And then, the Circus came to town, in every way the circus can come to town. Clowns, zebras, flashing lights, too much junk, loud noise, diversion tactics, acts of bravery, OOOOOs and AAAHHHS, gasps from the crowd, outrageous stunts, incredible balancing acts...oh, the Circus came to town all right, and I was glad to see them go! As much as I like a big show, I don't live under the big top and don't plan to, although I contemplated it that night. How easy would it be to run away and join? Together with the other freaks, moving from one town to the next, entertaining for a few hours before you move on? Kids seem to be in awe of this huge display and Brad's nephew, was no different. Time stood still that night, while we were all locked in, watching the greatest show on Earth...

And then, the last weekend in February, where time seemed to rewind and freeze for a night. Several girls, with years of memories stored between them, gathered together, in a little town called Brooklyn, to celebrate one of their own, finding her own. Past, present and future puddled together to create a timelessness felt only with those who knew you when. We may have been in a new neighborhood, but days of old were right beside us. I hadn't forgotten how much I had in my past, but it was nice to remember it for a night, with people who helped me live.

That's how I've lived the past few weeks. As if I was running out of time and it wasn't going to outrun me. Juggling the present, planning for the future and revisiting the past, all in a few weeks time. Practicing the present will be an ongoing exercise, but I'm training for Broad Street, damnit. Time's got nothing on me.

Sick: Checked off my To-Do List

For the past week, I've been battling with a heinous cold and am finally on the mend. For days, I felt achy, exahusted, stuffed up, completely unmotivated. Not myself at all. How did this happen to me!? I tend to think of myself as quite a healthy person, almost to the point of being immune to such things as the common cold. I exercise daily, take my vitamins, eat healthy, get 8 hours a night, drink a gallon of water a day, hell, I even quit smoking. Healthy, right? Well, sometimes, despite all precautions, all measures to ensure something doesn't happen, well, sometimes it just does. But we always want to blame something, some outside force that cripples and leaves us feeling run over. So, after defensively arguing how healthy I am, I accepted the fact and thought back to the root causes. Post Vacation Syndrome.


After an awesome five days in Colorado, visiting my sister, brother-in-law, neice and nephew, I came home with a memeroy card full of pictures, and a body full of sick. Lucky for me, I didn't start feeling ill until the last day, after we had snow shoed, visited with one of my best friends and her new baby, and seen the Cirque du Soleil show Alegria, only then did I fall to the phlem. It was as my body knew I had time to devote to this disgusting cause. The mind-altering, bed banishing cold gripped me for a full 5 days. And I surrendored to it, almost reveled in the helplessness that I suddenly felt. Looking back (now that my life has regained conciousness and my normal activities and multi-tasking are back on track) I realize that for 5 full days, the world melted away and I was allowed to just be sick. I am aware of how lucky I am to have had that luxury.



So, the point to this disgusting explanation of my common cold? That, as an adult who works, has a home to take care of, bills to pay, a puppy to raise, errands to run, all that real-world stuff...as an adult, I rarely have times when I can just sit back while the world goes on around me. There's always something to do, remember, pick up, call, clean, finish, prepare, plan. It's what makes that world go around. Maybe it's just me though? I am my mother's daughter, with the next agenda item hovering on the horizon. Sitting just doesn't sit well with me. So, to have a whole week go by, without getting involved in my life seemed like a waste. Hindsight tells a different story though and at least for those 5 days, luck afforded me the ability to sit back and let the cold wash over me. Sick: Checked off my to do list!

Never put off untill tomorrow what you can do today. ~ Thomas Jefferson

I reckon being ill as one of the great pleasures of life, provided one is not too ill and is not obliged to work till one is better. ~Samuel Butler

Hibernation is Not an Option: The Stir-Crazy Guide to Winter

Winter. It's cold, bitter, windy. And it's only January. So far, this winter has been rather wicked and most days, I'll walk into work wearing my fabulous Penguin hat, smile and explain that it's really warm to the fashionably impaired co-workers and sit down at my cube, huddling over my keyboard as if it were an oil drum filled with fire (ok, the hat can give off that Cousin Eddie vibe if worn with the wrong outfit).

Despite the slap in your face winter doles out each time I step out my door, I don't mind these wintry months, as long as the sun continues to shine. Hibernation through these weather conditions is indeed an option; one I respect, but can not fully get behind, no matter how hard it colds. That being said, there are activities done in warm weather that are just ludicrous in every way shape and form when placed in cold weather. Such as walking your puppy (for the fourth time) on a work night, when your dinner has just been scooped and the steam rising off it smells of heaven. I curse Winter then. I admit, I've become victim to the laziness that Winter curses you with and have let my dog out on my snow covered deck, trying to convince myself that allowing it isn't the most disgusting thing I've ever done. Well my friends, when you find yourself shoveling your deck in shame so the neighbors don't judge you, then you know that Winter has won.

So, yes, Winter can be a beast that beats you out of leaving your house, but only if you let it. Being cut out of the stir-crazy cloth, I look at this season as a challenge, one I will come out of victoriously. I have had to tag-team the challenge though, with someone who shares the same mindset: Hibernation is not an option!

Brad and I really started tackling Winter last weekend, when Saturday night brought us into Manayunk. Known for it's god-awful parking and cobblestone streets, we knew what we were getting ourselves into and laughed in the face of Winter. Wearing my highest of heels, bringing a jacket (I've left behind the days of running to the bar without a coat), we marched into Bourbon Blue without hesitation. Go big or Go home.

Sunday continued the Winter fun, and we moseyed into Philadelphia, with skating on the brain.

Being my first time at the Blue Cross Riverrink, the thought of ice skating on the river on this beautifully sunny day all but made me giggle out loud. With Music pumping through the outside speakers, my rented skates did me proud. Bundled in my winter garb, it was a Zamboni of an afternoon.

Having skated our tuchcuses off, we needed warmth and a Winter Night Cap, so headed to Eulogy, a Belgium Bar I had walked past a dozen times, yet never ventured into. Stories of their beer selection resonated as I opened the massive volume that was their beer menu. Oh, rejoice, for Winter hath brought me to this haven.

During the week, I am, however, guilty of being Winter Whipped. Monday night, I surrendered to the treadmill, running two miles while Winter winds howled with laughter. Tuesday reared it's ugly seasonality with ice and freezing rain. Yes, I remained inside that day, Winter, you bastard. Working from home, I cut my losses, not even leaving for the gym. Doing floor exercises with a small puppy proved to be quite a challenge. How I do love a challenge.

Wednesday found me indoors as well, but I had actually planned it that way. My family room doubles as a Yoga studio on Wednesday evenings, and my girl Jess and I stretch and bend with Sting's wife and her Indian friend, who in our opinion, should wear some looser pants. Post Om, my dad came for Turkey Sloppy Joes (wad up Manwich!). Cooking during the days where going out either isn't an option or is a choice, will forever be a go-to. New recipes (or throw-backs) offer much needed relief from the hum-drum of Winter nights.

Thursday came in the nick of time and Restaurant Week beckoned. Despite the frigid temps, I headed to the train, walked the 9 blocks to 3rd and Market and parked my cold rump on Fork's bar stool to warm up with some wine while I waited for Brad. A warm room filled with hipster waiters, beautifully dressed patrons, I noted that I'd need to head back to dine one day. The smell alone could coerce you from your Winter warmth. After enjoying some sips, we marched the hundred feet to Bistro 7 . Frog green walls, similar to my kitchen, warm lighting, delicious aromas. The Restaurant Week menu offered a small selection that varied from their menu, and all seemed delicious. My winter greens & granny smith apple salad, cut-with-a-fork tender pork and sweet potato and chocolate malted pot de creme exceeded my expectations. The Calluna wine we brought didn't hurt the splendor either!

Arrive Friday, a night of Baggataway's wings and allagash white, followed by Chinese food and On Demand...this wasn't a Winter surrender, this was a perfect night. Saturday promised a full plate of Winter fun and my appetite was huge. After running 4 miles at the gym (longest distance I've yet to run, thank you very much), we ran some errands (bought my first pair of running shoes I've ever bough with the sole purpose of running) then headed out for an afternoon of Winery Hopping.

Black Walnut Winery paired signature wines with delectable, locally grown goat cheese. The Chardonnay 2007 and Herb de Provence Chevre....oh yes. My Favorite? Pinot Noir 2008 and the Crottin aged cheese. Cheese and wine...could you do anything better on a Winter day!? Post goat, we headed to Kog Hill, a winery that looks like the boxed wine of wineries from the outside. If there was ever a time to not judge a book by its cover or a winery by it's box-filled store-front! Inside, we were handed glasses and told that for the $5 dollar tasting fee, we were able to taste all wines made on premises and keep the glass! My frugality leaped for joy! Now, for someone with a decent palate, again, the tasting room lacked in luster, so the deal needed to put it's grapes where it's wine was. I soon bit my tongue, as almost all wines sampled were tasty! About 20 wine samplings later (we closed the tasting room down!), I left with 6 bottles of Kog and a smile on my Wintry Chapped face.

Take that Winter!

Weekly Dish

The third week in January has crept up on me and looking back on last week, I realize 2011 has been good thus far! A bit of a pre-mature statement maybe, seeing as the winter weather has just started, but with a VPN enabled laptop, I say bring on the weather! When you're able to work from home, a whole new perspective creeps in...and going into the office, well, that's just creepy. Two work from home days (thank you mother nature), yoga with miss Jess, make your own taco night with M & J, plus a happy hour with my work people (the not-so-creepy ones), last week was quite all right.

So, rear view mirroring it, last week flew by and while work filled my days, my nights were spent with substance. It went a little something like this...

Starting with a 2 1/2 mile run on Monday, my appetite for meat grew ferociously...chops to be exact.

This delightfully simple recipe made my night. And when we noticed we didn't have pork chops, we hacked up a pork loin into 1/4 inch slices and did it up. Improvising at its finest. These babies were coated in salt, pepper & paprika, then browned on both sides. Once cooked, they were smothered in a Dijon sauce that wouldn't quit - it was tangy, creamy goodness. Sided with long grain rice mixed with chopped almonds...a Monday night worthy of a Thursday.

Tuesday promised Zen, with the weekly Yoga session I've been having with Jess. Despite the downward facing dog with an actual dog in your face, we practiced beautifully. I can't speak for her, but our Yoga nights help propel my motion forward (and listening to Sting instrumentals doesn't hurt either). Thank you Trudie Styler. I'm still not sure how you're able to put your head on the ground from a standing position.

I spent Wednesday working from home due to Tuesday's snow (see Brad in shorts, shoveling, below). This proved useful for prepping that night's dinner party dish early, allowing for a quickie at the gym...and by quickie, I mean only 2 miles. And to be honest, that was a stretch! How the hell am I ever going to run Broad Street!

After surviving my embarrassing run, we returned home to prepare for make your own taco night with Meg & Justin. Using the extremely adorable polka dotted bowls I received for Christmas (I love being an adult, getting excited by glass wear with as much zest as a Cabbage Patch doll once had), we put all fixins out and prepared the filling: black beans & rice with lime & garlic shrimp, for the vegetarian and chicken & peppers for us carnivores. Word to the wise...never use Trader Joe's no-defrost necessary chicken. I do not mean to speak ill of this sacred store, but we followed all cooking instructions, following the 'no thawing necessary' note, and it took an hour and a half to cook. No thawing my ass!

But, despite having to start the meal pre-main course, the night turned out extremely well. Talk turned wedding (on my que, actually) as they are 6 months from their wedding date. Calm, Cool, Collected and Matter-of-Fact, Meg answered questions and discussed their magical date. I, on the other hand, admitted to my wedding jitters...for the wedding I hadn't even planned yet. More wine please!

Happy Hour followed suite on Thursday and my work chums and I headed to the Brick House, where the waitresses wore mid-driffs and the beer towers were shotty. A fun night indeed.

Friday, happy Friday, with Chicken Rollatini and huge glasses of Coppala. Perfect end to the week.

Looking out the window currently, I'm having deja vu of last Tuesday's snow, although I could do without the freezing rain. It was a beautiful winter night, one filled with snowy craziness outside and comfort food inside.



So, a slight glance back at the week in meals. What better way to spend a week, but filled with good food, wine and wintry weather?

Cheap Cate A Penny Pinching Fiance

It's inevitable. Unavoidable. Blatantly obvious, yet naively forgotten. Instills nausea, rash, shaking, uncontrollable outbursts of 'Oh My God!'

The Wedding Budget.

After the ring, the romance, the presenting of the left hand at all functions, after a bit of the excitment dies down, the actuality of the big event settles in. This huge romantic gesture that has just transpired, the asking of the most beautiful question to the one person you see yourself with, by your side, for the remainder of your days, all of that takes a back seat to the next step in the story. Rapid fire questions follow, from those who were just gushing about how, 'You have to remember every moment of this exciting time!' It's only natural to ask certain things in the hubbub...

When are you getting married?

During our time in Ireland, no wedding talk had been allowed, being as I didn't want that to overshadow our amazing journey. Live in the moment, enjoy this beautiful country and plan only the roads we'll travel that day. A marvelous way to live, while we could. Flying home from Ireland, after the first (of what we'll spend the rest of our lives making many) international vacation, we started discussing, just for fun, the wedding list. This will determine a lot in the overall scheme of wedding shennanigans. So, we allowed ourselves to drink from the wedding goblet, to see how easily we swallowed. But, having never been exposed to such an elixir, I was soon woozy, as I had been drinking the meade at Bunratty Castle.

Needless to say, I've learned quite a bit about the whole engagement process, how to handle the finances of being engaged, and what to do when the spreadsheet that lays before you has many line items on it. What exactly have I learned? To keep it simple, like most financial decisions I make.

Being betrothed to a financial minded man, a man who works with numbers and figures, a man who has done my taxes the past two years and who manages my small, but wildly optimistic portfolio, well, this man and I see eye to eye on most financial situations. Experiencing joy has never been as sweet as when someone else shares your hobby of penny pinching.

Put a sweater on if you're cold. Is the restaurant byo? What's on sale this week at the groccery store? Happy Hour speacials at Baggataways. Oh, I can feel the love.

So, as I sat next to this wonderfully, fiscally responsible man, with a budget inbetween us I had hopes that he too would share my passion to hang onto those dollar signs, to slash and edit the numbers to a total that did not make me dizzy. Were his palms as sweaty? Was he kidding when he agreed to use construction paper to make our own invitations? Did he also want to serve hamburgers and hot dogs, while an ipod shuffled in the background?

Well, what he did when all of my money neurosis came bubbling to the surface exceeds all bars I may have set. He patiently shut down the laptop that held that horrid number, looked me right in the eye and uttered music to my ears...

"Let's party."

All the questions, concerns, figures, venues, head counts, all the other 'stuff' that weasels its way into the equation doesn't matter. There's no rush, no deadline, no clock ticking. Life continues without plans and sometimes, makes more sense that way. I took a deep breathe, grabbed my goblet of wine and cheersed the man who knew what I needed.

As a little girl, I never dreamed of my wedding....maybe I knew the real thing was worth waiting for.

Let's party, indeed!