Going Retro

They say communication can be challenging when Mercury is retrograde.

When communication is how one make's one's living, well... suffice it to say that good old Mercury might account for the fact that I've felt like I've been swimming through jello for days -- all elbows-out action, bone-rattling fatigue but barely any progress to show for it.

Mercury's winged foot has been kicking my butt all week!

Although I have to say, I have some pretty awesome people in my life right now. The psychological support brought on by the idea of "I've got your back" and just knowing other people sympathize and can help out and give advice when you're feeling swamped is good for shoring up the emotional resources needed to get over the hump that stands between you and progress on the to-do list.

It's hard for me to ask for help and I've come to understand that's a character flaw. Playing nice with others while being a responsible, self-sufficient worker - with a heaping helping of creative idea wrangling - has always been my modus operandi.

But if I'm not careful, it degrades into the worst form of perfectionism-plagued procrastination. Can't do it perfect, so it's not worth starting now.

That turns into a major problem when there's lots to do and lots to learn.

So I'm about to go nose-down into planning mode, working on a few things that will make next week awesome and give me a leg up on some projects that have been looming.

I always hated those aphorisms of "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail" and others of that ilk. But I have to admit, there's some truth to it in some cases.

What do you do to pull yourself out of a retrograde rut?

The Short-Week Scramble

It has been a whirlwind of a week, let me tell you... This sculpture depicts what I've felt like the past few days. The off-kilter-ness, the swirling, feeling caught in a net. If only for the swarm of butterflies, it would be a perfect metaphor.

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When the long weekend was upon us, I was all a-twitter. Three days! Of blissful weather and lots of time to luxuriate in it, with minimal commitments. Ah.

But I'd forgotten the dirty little secrets of those long weekends - that they result in shorter weeks. And the deadlines? Feh, they just keep pilin' on!

So cramming 40 hours into 4 days is harder than I remember it. When was that last holiday, again?

I'm just pressing on, though. Friday's almost here, baby, and I can just imagine all the grilling that's going to happen this weekend. Even if it rains, we're covered.

Oh, yeah.

What are you doing this weekend?

Brownies as a Differentiator

Now, I can make homemade brownies. But certain people in my family prefer the gooey fakeness that is a specific type of grocery-store brownie covered in frosting.

And yes, I admit: when they're in the house, I eat 'em, too.

So with a barbeque on tap for Memorial Day weekend, I set out to go to said grocery store to purchase these brownies.

In response to ever-increasing competition in my area with other, newer, better, more gourmet-ified grocery stores, this store has been undergoing major construction for what seems like a good six months or more. So every time I've stopped by, I leave in frustration because nothing is where it should be and nobody's around to help you figure it out.

But I forged on, knowing that a certain someone was itching for some frosted-brownie deliciousness.

My plan included, as a good counter-balance, baking a homemade Cooking Light lemon cake as a dessert alternative for whomever preferred citrusy sugar to chocolatey awesomeness.

So I get to the grocery store, bracing myself for a construction nightmare, when I find that lo! The construction has abated. It seems - dare I say? - finished, or reasonably close to it.

There's a new food court (why a grocery store needs to have a food court is really beyond me, but I've lost that battle), a facelifted modern design that shows they've been reading Grocery Retailer Today or Today's Grocery Shopper or whatever the industry publication is noting that people want sophisticated color schemes and cool fonts telling them where they'll find their artisanal-style bread.

Despite the construction being finished, the overall effect is disappointing. Because they still have the same bad selection of groceries as before. The same inferior-level produce. The same haphazard displays. Only now the aisles seem narrower, and people have to squeeze to get by if someone is stopping in the aisle to select a can of soup or load up on Cheez Doodles.

Still, I make my way to the bakery department.

A little history: This store used to be a Genuardi's store, a locally owned chain in the Philadelphia suburbs that emphasized fresh produce and friendly service. A few years ago, they were swallowed up by the Safeway behemoth and almost overnight, the quality of nearly every product I shopped for there had degraded into less-than-stellar offerings.

Still, with the new facelift, I thought I'd give them a try.

So I ventured to the new bakery section, to fetch the pan of frosted brownies I came there to get.

I see a couple of stray packs of three gourmet brownies, but no frosted. Hm.

A bakery employee zooms by with a cart full of product and starts stocking, so I ask her where I'd find the brownies.

Well, you can predict from this long preamble what happened next: Genuardi's no longer carries their delicious frosted brownies. The employee proceeds to tell me that many customers have demanded they bring them back.

Apparently, this person tells me, it was decided to discontinue the frosted brownies, "because no other stores in the area were carrying them." Apparently, it also takes six months for a new product (the tri-piece gourmet version) to be phased out and a new product phased in.

But this isn't a new product - it's an old product! A standby that seemed to do perfectly well!

And another thing... Doesn't having a different product from everyone else give you an edge on the competition, then? Last time I checked, differentiation was a good thing.

I do not understand this. A product that's popular, that they have cornered the market on, they decide to do away with?!

What is it with all this me-too thinking? Carve out a niche for crying out loud! Take a stand, Genuardi's/Safeway!

How to Start Your Day Right

Squeeze a little extra sleep past the wake-up music drizzling out of the iPod.

Arise to sunshine dappling the trees - a welcome change from rainy gray starts to last several days.

Window shades up, light fills bedroom, dancing across honey-colored hardwood floors.

Read random Real Simple article about herb compatible garden plant pairings.

Saunter down to end of driveway to pick up newspaper.

Catch sight of flower beds, with past-their-prime bulb foliage reminding you to plant annuals.

Consider riot of purple and gold pansies, reminiscent of your high school colors.

Decide on petunias, purple wave, to introduce explosive unruly color.

Make mental note to stop by fairy-tale plant nursery, the one with the shady inspiration garden you can walk through on the way in to the retail area.

Stretch.

Add toast to the usual cereal regime of breakfast, so you can use that jam you like.

Take the few minutes to make tea, too - decide it's worth the effort.

Savor the vanilla rooibos flavor.

Finish morning primp routine and find jacket you love is back from cleaners.

Jump in car and drive two miles to work - in heavy traffic, but still easy on the gasoline budget.

Breathe.

Walk into office building, with the knowledge that your to-do list will flex and grow and shrink as the demands of the day require, but that you're doing your best.

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Photo: My father-in-law's gardening talents at work

Father's Day Gift Idea #1

A former coworker of mine has literally carved a niche out for himself in the customized marshmallow-toasting equipment market, with Marshmallow Chef Sticks.

His invention got the attention of the author of Gadget Nation, a book about wacky gadgets, and his Marshmallow Chef Sticks are now featured prominently in the tome.

No barbeque setup is complete without a pair!

Think of the look on your Dad's face when he sees these sticks - it's like giving him carte blanche to be a kid again, toasting marshmallows and having a grand-old time.

Not that my own father needs any excuse to act like a child, as he would be the first to point out. (Hee-hee!)

State of Affairs

Stuff that is on my desk, but probably should not be:

1. Expired Frida Kahlo exhibit ticket from March.
2. Spectacularly gorgeous wrapping paper from a gift a friend gave me last week.
3. Golf balls.
4. Trouser socks.
5. One book I've finished, two others I've abandoned.
6. Old sudokus.
7. Three new crochet hooks.
8. Stray photo from my First Holy Communion party, where I look not so much holy, but more as if I'm plotting revenge.
9. Dead PDA.
10. Phone number of cleaning service.

41 Grattitudes

Taking a cue from Ariel at Electrolicious, I'm capping the celebration of my birthday week with this list of 41 things for which I am grateful this year.

1. My husband, who tries to understand me even when it's a lot of work
2. My parents, each for their own gifts
3. My sister, brother-in-law, and their kids, who are a riotous whirl of pandemonium - a party packaged in a single family form
4. My friends all of whom have broad shoulders to lean on and make me smile
5. The way the light comes into the downstairs windows in the morning
6. The lush canopy of trees that envelops our yard in the summer
7. Grilled sausage
8. Chocolate in various forms, be it truffle, solid and bite-worthy block or cake
9. Color and the way it evokes different feelings
10. Fuzzy lambswool-lined slippers
11. The feeling that comes from doing good
12. Bloggers who inspire me to write better or more regularly
13. Mentors
14. Splendid serendipity
15. Commonalities
16. Extemporaneous commentary
17. Ephemera, as both a word and a concept
18. Colorful graphics
19. Well-told stories
20. Flights of fancy
21. Stationery stores
22. Musings
23. Connections
24. Cartoons
25. Alliteration
26. Unmitigated joy
27. Laughter
28. Insight
29. Smooth-writing pens
30. Confidence
31. Backstory
32. Clean slates
33. Fresh laundry
34. Perfectly timed hugs
35. Reading before bed
36. Surprisingly good movies
37. Energized discussion
38. Meetings of minds
39. Course correction
40. Turquoise
41. Understanding

IM is Overrated

While I see how it can be beneficial in short-and-sweet doses - "Ready for lunch?" "Make it 200 pixels." "There's doughnuts in the break room." - for the most part, I think IM is overrated.

In the office, that is.

All the research points to the efficiency of multi-tasking being a myth. The worst thing for productivity. The bane of our lives in the 2000's.

And what does IM do? It facilitates constant interruption, the feeding of the never-satisfied, ravenously hungry, 21st-century, need-it-now, Google-dependent mind.

But it doesn't increase productivity, I'm convinced. At least for me.

Working on a complicated task, learning the ropes and putting names with faces during the first week at a new job can foster enough multi-tasking overload on their own.

Add in an onslaught of IM that just ratchets up the strain and breaks the concentration. Or at least, requires you start over at square one because the train of thought has been thoroughly derailed.

I speak from experience - but not at my new job.

At my new job, IM is verboten. Yes!

You'd think that would lead to email overload. And I'm sure at some times, it does.

But mostly, it leads to face-to-face conversations. Or a quick call to get an answer. Done and done.

And in the process, you get to know your colleagues just a little bit better.

Sure, there are times that I've missed it over the past few weeks. Technology can definitely help in many situations.

But largely? It's been a breath of fresh air not to be pecked-at by a constant stream of IMs from people I barely know, obscured by a digital veneer.

And so far? Really getting to know these people has been one of the most positive work experiences of my life.

Pleasantly Surprised

You know when you are looking forward to something, and it's even better than you expected, and it takes you by surprise?

Well, my new job has been like that.

I've met dozens of people who are interested in making innovation happen - and who value my contribution to the conversation!

Smart, funny people who like cake.

And flowers! Really, really nice ones - on my first day.

There's a steep learning curve, for sure, but I'm climbing it steadily every day.

Already, halfway through week 2, I've made connections and breakthroughs and the wheels are turning with plenty of ideas for the future.

Do I like this job? Past experience makes me want to reserve judgment for a while... Once burned, twice shy and all that.

But the optimist in me says that all signs point to Yes.

My Chinese-food fortune the day I started?

"Take advantage of your great imagination. It will serve you well."

Oh, yeah!

Creative Accounting

While I was growing up, stressing over one of life's little problems, my Mom was always there with a hug as I cried on her shoulder.

As a child, I think I was a mystery to her - and heck, I bet I'm just as enigmatic as an adult. But she always listens to me, if somewhat incredulously, over the things I worry about, live through, deal with.

So many times, after hearing me spill my guts, and offering advice, she'll ask incredulously, "Where did you come from?"

I mean, she knew the mechanics, of course. She was simply marveling at how different I was from her and my father.

Sure, I have her hands. And picked up many of her mannerisms along the way.

Among the things I'm forever grateful for is this: It's my Mom who taught me to read and write when I was two, setting the stage for my career.

A fellow lefty, she showed me the right way to hold my pencil so I was never vexed by the the left-side spirals in a notebook.

Over the years, I know I must have tested every last nerve in her body as she tried in vain to get me to mimic her Palmer-perfect penmanship earned refined during her years of Catholic school education. When done quickly, letting words pour out onto the page, a sheet full of my own writing resembles a ransom note more than lines written by the same person.

Little did she know, she'd created a monster.

As a toddler, I'd come downstairs - every morning for a month - toting a pretend schoolbag, declaring I was on my way to school.

So she threw up her hands and found me a preschool. Which was one of the most creative places I'd ever had the pleasure to spend time in my entire life.

That's another theme with my Mom, too - tapping into creativity. She used to sew a lot, obsessed with tactile textiles and beautiful patterns. These days, she quilts, making color schemes and poring over detailed designs at shows.

I get my obsession over materials from her. With her, it's fabrics for quilting. With me, it's beads and pieces of silver that catch the light.

So thank you, Mom, for all the creative support to do my own thing. Even when it seems unthinkable.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

(And if you're a Mom, Happy Mother's Day to you, too!)

Working for a Living

While it can be a lot of little things that chip away at your satisfaction over time, I believe there's always a precise moment where you realize you're in the wrong job. At least that's been the case for me.

It could occur any time.

Making the connection that there's a disconnect between one's values and the organization's.

Feeling the daily struggle to do your best work, knowing that the tasks aren't aligned with your career goals - and knowing there's a better match somewhere else.

Hearing a statement that cuts to the core of the problem, articulating the ennui you've struggled so hard to put your finger on.

Whatever the situation, there's a moment of clarity encased in glass, "Yes! That's exactly why this isn't working!"

I've been through my share of light bulb moments - and job searches.

This last search was the most satisfying because after many years, I absolutely know myself. It's taken a while to believe the results of the inventory, but I know my talents, I know my interests, and all that was left was finding where my skills are put to best use.

People talk about being your best self, your most authentic. Knowing yourself is paramount. Too often we struggle along, trying to make things right, when the wrong is in the fit.

Trying something else on for size might involve a small shift, like changing roles or even departments. Or it could require a bigger commitment, like changing the organization you work for entirely.

But change is good. And like the cliches say, the only constant is change, these days.

I'm about to embark on a job change that on the face of it sounds like a perfect match. Room for growth, a chance to apply hard-won knowledge, and to take advantage of opportunities for learning.

At the same time, I'm bringing a new attitude to work, ensuring that I make time for the other things in life that are important to me, that give life balance.

That's definitely been challenging in the past. But that's what's good about the future - the future is unwritten.

It's an exciting time - scary, but good scary!

Why Italy?

On my list of 100 Things I Want to Do, Italy figures in prominently, with visiting Tuscany and watching some olive oil harvesting among the things to do.

I love to cook. More than that, I love to eat.

Italian cooking - real Italian cuisine - is so earthy and delicious and soul stirring. For some reason though, these past few months, I've not been as inspired as I've been before. I've had more time to cook, more inclination, but no inspiration.

That post I wrote about how we made Jamie Oliver's Leeks and Papardelle pasta (for which Google seems to send lots of people this way) was the last time I felt all taste buds light up with glee. We even made it a couple of months later, and for some reason, although it was quite delicious, it wasn't quite the same.

This happens to me often when I try a new recipe. When it's completed and sitting on the table, ready to eat, there's the surprise and the delight in seeing it all come together, the anticipation of eating it.

And I think it's the combination that jolts my taste buds into overdrive.

But one thing never fails to disappoint for some reason, and that's good olive oil.

While on vacation last year in San Francisco, we happened by the Stonehouse Olive Oil stall at the Ferry Building one Saturday.

The oils they offered for tasting were a riot of flavors and tastes, from garlic olive oil to first-press. Some were potent, with the olive flavor bursting forth. With others, there was the merest hint at the oil's provenance.

We shipped several bottles home for ourselves and for gifts. And later I was thrilled to find the Olio Santo at my grocery store.

I'm fascinated by the processes and inspiration behind things that are beautiful or delicious.

Heck, I must be some sort of process junkie because I can appreciate nearly anything more if I know about all the work that goes into it.

Throw in rolling hills and beautiful, tree-lined vistas dotted with old stone farmhouses that have stood for hundreds of years and I'm in heaven.

So Italy, being both beautiful and a bounty of deliciousness, looks to be a double whammy.

Have you been to Italy? What was your favorite part?

Taking Names

Last night, a friend and I went to an author event at the Free Library of Philadelphia and heard Jhumpa Lahiri read from her new book, Unaccustomed Earth.

During the Q+A, Jhumpa talked about the subject of her characters' names. I was struck by how she said that she keeps lists of names, "I need them," she said, noting that she pores over lists of names for any that speak to her.

I knew someone in college who kept a list naming everyone she knew or had ever met. At least as far as she could remember when she began documenting them. I thought this was an odd practice, the cataloging of people from your life.

But I suppose a name can also trigger memories: of a long-forgotten event, a personality trait, a funny story.

In Jhumpa's case, names help shape a character's history. A birthplace as indicated by a geographically popular moniker. The struggle with being saddled with what others mock as a "strange name" throughout a childhood in America.

I first read Jhumpa Lahiri's other two books while taking a train to work every day, where I collaborated with colleagues thousands of miles away in India. There was something about the summer heat and the words on the page that made me feel a greater appreciation for India's many cultures and its people.

I am looking forward to seeing what Unaccustomed Earth has in store.

Typing 101

When I was in junior high, my Mom refused to allow me to take a typing class. She was old-school, thinking that a young girl with her life ahead of her shouldn't do anything that would pigeonhole her as a secretary.

I can't remember what I signed up for in its place, but it may have been Latin.

But with an engineer for a Dad, and computers lying around the house in various stages of disarray, I was destined to sit at a keyboard at some point in my life. So, typing would certainly come in handy.

One day that summer, my Dad brought home some software called Learn to Touch-Type* or something like that, with a photo of a female administrative professional on the cover.

Since it was the 80s, the woman's hair pulled was back in a severe bun, and she sported a high-collared, floppy-bow blouse under what could be best described as a blazer with shoulder pads the size of an ottoman.

Although the cover art was absurd, I spent one sweaty summer typing aaa sss ddd fff, and various combinations thereof, ad infinitum.

Until, miraculously, one day I could type!

The exercises were such that you droned through them in a trance, and then suddenly realized you were forming words without ever following your fingers as they struck the keys.

Since that time, I've been a pretty fast typist. And being a writer, it's come in handy throughout my career.

At various points in my life, I've been a highly accurate typist, too, but I've always been fast - between 100 and 120 words per hour. I can be competitive, too, so you can imagine the forces that collided when I discovered Typeracer.

Caution: if you're a typing geek, the least bit competitive, or even just looking to waste some time, this is highly addictive. Enter at your own risk!

What's your latest addiction?

*Touch typing is what they used to call typing without looking at your fingers. These days, it's probably what all the young kids learn to do in utero and then they spend the next 13 years learning to type while writing a sonata at the piano while they text their friends and play Guitar Hero.

Bounce Right Back

They say resilience is one of the key attributes that companies have to instill within their corporate cultures to guarantee success in the 21st century.

It has something to do with the only constant being change in this global business world. So the ability to flex and bend like the wind will be more than a nice-to-have soft skill, but a de rigeur attribute that will speed innovation.

Resilience, or the ability to bounce back after adversity, is part of the human spirit. Sure, it's likely that no matter what you're going through, there's always someone who is struggling with an even bigger challenge. As if that thought alone is enough to make you bounce back.

It's hard to be resilient and easier to be myopic when you're in the thick of any problem. It could be a challenge at work, a creative struggle, a personal issue. Sometimes it takes time to heal whatever wound has resulted and to see that things are not as bad as they seem.

Other times, it just takes a friend, or, in the business world, a trusted colleague - who knows you, knows your history, your "stuff" - to say, "Snap out of it!"

Those tell-it-like-it-is friends can be invaluable - the ones who aren't afraid to tell you what's real. Who purposely or inadvertently help you to bounce back.

I've been lucky enough to find many people like this along the way, and I try to be this kind of friend when the situation warrants. It's a balancing act, this bouncing back.

Tastes Like Spring

While walking down the street yesterday, I passed my favorite bakery as a father and son emerged from the store, triumphant.

The Dad balanced two boxes in one arm. In the palm of his other hand he held a 4-inch-tall piece of strawberry shortcake on a sheet of bakery paper. He looked about to take a bite as I walked by.

His boy held in one hand a giant waffle cone stuffed with ice cream, and in the other, a heavily frosted cupcake decorated with a mound of mini-marshmallows glued together with drizzles of chocolate.

The kid took turns nibbling both the cupcake and the ice cream, for what must have been a sugar-overload feast.

Dollops of pink petals from spring blossoms in the trees cascaded all around them in dancing, windswept swirls like the icing on a cake.

Golf with My Dad

Boy, who knew that golf could be such a workout if you've been neglecting weightlifting for a while?

Hoisting a nine-iron over my head and hurling it toward a little ball for four hours never felt so therapeutic.

My hands feel as if I've been digging compacted earth with a rusty shovel for three days straight. (I guess that would tell you something about my swing.)

It's a good pain, though. The pain that tells you you've done something good for yourself. That you've stretched a few muscles and burned more than a few calories.

The score of the game? Oh, it was laughable. Closer to a below-average bowling score than a tally for 18 holes of golf.

The conditions were absolutely perfect for this novice. A sunny and 80-degree day. No humidity. Hardly anyone on the course because the season hasn't officially started - so nobody saw me whiff four times on the 5th hole. Or three on the 12th.

Even the sand traps were forgiving - tamped-down from a lack of recent rain - allowing errant shots to roll in and right back out on occasion, saving the embarrassment of having to thwack away at the ball to get it back on the course.

It was a great way to spend a Friday morning. And a nice way to hang out with my Dad.

Spring Flora: Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder

Last weekend's Inspired Flora exhibit had me looking differently at all the plants that we have growing in our yard.

We are lucky enough to have some gorgeous flowering trees, like the magnolia tree that burst open this week (see above).

I'm not much of a gardener. I tend to plant things and let survival of the fittest take over.

All the fussing that gardening requires, especially in the heat of the summer - when I just want to be glugging a tall, icy lemonade in front of the A/C - is too much maintenance.

Several years ago, I planted an armload of tulip bulbs.


These hardy little bulbs never fail to disappoint, erupting year after year from the soil and mulch to pay tribute to the longer, sunnier days.

With fair skin that burns at the slightest provocation, I'm more of an indoor girl. Actually, I do enjoy the outdoors - especially when it's 80 degrees, sunny and clear, like it was today.

Although the spate of early spring weather may be short-lived, I took advantage of the sun and the flowers to capture some of the springtime magic that abounded in my yard. Enjoy!

Shoeless Golfer

OK, I'm sorry, but I feel a soapbox calling my name...

When I took up golf a few years ago, I purchased some golf shoes that ended up being a smidge too narrow for me to walk in, comfortably, for more than a couple of hours.

But with the proper (read: microscopically thin) socks, and a cart rental, they were bearable for the time I'd spend on the course. God forbid I try wheeling the bag along behind me, walking the entire course wearing those things. My feet would be numb by the time we made it to the third hole.

Despite not fitting properly, they were all I could find at the time. I wasn't interested in doing something crazy like having custom shoes made. But in the meantime, I wore them whenever I played. But on one especially rain-savaged day, they got completely muddied up and basically wrecked.

So when cleaning out the garage one day, I tossed them. It had been at least two years since I'd played, and I figured, "Well, if I take up golf again, I'll get a pair that actually fits."

Now, I know that for a woman, wearing a size 11 shoe is out of the ordinary. It must be, because finding a quality pair of flats or a cute heel in a retail establishment is almost impossible, especially since my foot is built on the wider side. (And a Ladies Size 11 Golf Shoe must be its own type of holy grail, because it is certainly not easy to find.)

But in anticipation of my first golf outing in several years, today I visited or called literally dozens of golf stores, specialty shoe stores and pro shops in search of a Ladies Size 11 Golf Shoe. Not enough time to order online, or work with a shop to place a "special order."

In case you were wondering, or got here through a Google search, I'm here to tell you: There is not one pair of Ladies Size 11 Golf Shoes in stock in all the golf-attire-stocking stores in the entire Philadelphia area. Zero. Zip. Nada.

At Golfsmith, the salesman tried to be helpful, trying to find a men's style that would work. He also noted that at least four other women had come into the store, asking for Ladies' size 11 golf shoes. "Does that tell you something?" I asked. "Obviously, there's a market for them!"

A local sporting goods store apparently discontinued its line of golf shoes three months ago. This came to light only after the salesman had spent 5 minutes trying to help me find something amidst all their sneaker and workout offerings.

They say women's feet are getting both longer and wider, yet I see no evidence of that in department stores, since they insist on stocking only medium widths - and only up to size 10. And I defy you to try to even buy a size 10 shoe - they're either sold out, or they're the size, shape and color of a potato.

So, I'll be the one golfing in sneakers this Friday, sliding around the course in my cleatless Adidas. Barring that, maybe I'll just strap on some potatoes.

The Orchid Chief

Sequenced Botanicals, a floral arrangement of orchids, larkspur, delphinium and pussy willow, by Stacey H. Ballard, Floral Confetti. Part of the Inspired Flora exhibit at Abington Art Center.

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As a freshman on my first day of college, I met Stacey, my resident advisor (RA), and was amazed to find her dorm room filled with bunches of beautiful, carefully dried roses hanging upside down in fragrant bundles.

Many of them were a lavender variety, which I'd never seen before. She said definitively that lavender roses smelled far better than the red kind most people ordered.

Her parents owned a flower store and creativity must have been concentrated in her DNA - you could tell by the way she decorated her dorm room with richly colored fabrics and artwork.

For years afterward, any time I ordered a floral arrangement involving roses, I'd ask for lavender ones.

Although Stacey has ventured out into other realms of business, my former RA has kept up floral design on the side. And today, a mutual friend had invited me to a show featuring her floral interpretation of a piece of artwork.

This time, orchids - which are among my favorite flowers - figured in prominently.

Stacey's arrangement was just spectacular! The yellow orchids along the bottom of moss were still vibrant yellow in person. The little orange orchid blossoms floated throughout the arrangement by way of copper wire that allowed them to dangle between the willow branches.

It was just a stunning interpretation of the painting Little Wing, by Michael Gallagher.

After touring the show, several of us friends detoured to a coffeehouse for snacks and catching up.

It was definitely a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon, reconnecting with people from the old days and viewing creativity at work.

*If you're into orchids, I suggest you check out Parkside Orchids, which ships anywhere and packs the plants in such a way that they will arrive looking spectacular, once you remove all the cotton batting and bubble wrap.

So, Broken Glass is Good?

As reader and fellow blogger fishwithoutbicycle pointed out, when the pressure is getting to you, it all comes out in your dreams.

That was the case for me Tuesday night. I'd been through a several intensive job interviews over the past couple of weeks, the last of which occurred Tuesday afternoon. At least two offers were imminent from two vastly different organizations.

Exhausted, I went to sleep easily and was probably drooling by 10:30.

Later that night, a bizarre dream had me dealing with glass from smashed-up light bulbs (don't ask), a deceased person, and a futile ride up hill on a creaky blue bike.

The next day while out running errands, I took a few minutes to meander around Anthropologie (love their displays, hate their prices).

Their book buyer has a good eye, and I like seeing what titles they have strewn about the place. The first one I stumbled on? Fortune-Telling Book of Dreams.

Just had to look - and the results speak for themselves:

1. Glass: You are due for a change if you dream of broken glass.
   
2. Deceased person: Conversing with indicates the arrival of excellent news.
   
3. Bicycling: Your future is full of opportunity.

Walking Unplugged

Too often, I fire up the iPod and head outside for a brisk walk.

But especially now that it's spring, during the last few walks I've taken I've left the gadgetry at home.

And it's amazing what tuning your visual attention to your surroundings can do for you.

Took a photo of a daffodil on my phone.

Heard six distinct bird calls in a one-block radius of my house.

Noticed that a neighbor's weeping willow tree has gorgeous pink petaled flowers this time of year.

Saved a child's ball from rolling into the street and executing a nice little kick to lob it right back into their hands (an actual achievement, given my lack of athletic prowess).

Met some neighbors I hadn't seen in a while and chatted up their one-year-old.

Walked farther and enjoyed it more than I have in quite a while.

Now you try it. Go ahead. Unplug, walk around and see what happens. Maybe you'll notice more, too.

Barefoot Bakery Visit

On Sunday, I'd stopped by a favorite bakery that has really great coffee.

It's so good, I don't need sugar with it. And I normally need at least one of those sugar packets to take the edge off a cup of coffee.

As I made my way to my car, I spotted a man who appeared to be in his late fifties or so. He was well-dressed, which I could see as he climbed out of his Toyota Camry and crossed the street - barefoot.

It had rained earlier in the day so the street was kind of mucky and damp. I could not imagine crossing these city streets without shoes because street cleaning just isn't part of the deal here. This was in Philadelphia - far from a beach town - on a day when the temperature was still only in the 50s.

The man went into the bakery. He came out, balancing several boxes in front of him as he gingerly picked his way - barefoot, again - across the cobblestone street and got back into his car and drove away.

Yay for Yael Naim

Sometimes you run across something that makes utter sense, and on other days it never would. Yeah, this video's kind of like that.

But this tune is one that I've loved from the moment I first heard it.

This talented singer didn't give up on her dreams, and damn it, neither should you.

Things I Have Learned

1. Jackets with decorative zippered pockets will always be trendy and not worth the investment.

2. "The easy way out" seldom is, except when it comes to food preparation.

3. If during a job interview they've squirreled you away in a conference room - and they never actually let you see the offices where you'd be working - that's a bad sign.

4. V-neck sweaters look better on about 95% of the population.

5. If you just work hard and keep your nose to the grindstone, you will never get ahead - a little self-promotion is always necessary.

6. Sunburn is always worth preventing.

7. With vital supplies, always buy more than you think you need - this goes for toilet paper, beads, and chocolate.

8. A manicure should be obtained the day before you have to do something important.

9. Spending time with kids is far more important that spending oodles of money on them.

10. Getting started is more important than starting exactly the right way.

What have you learned? Post it in the Comments.