Interview with Peter Mayle

"If you could install one luxurious amenity into your house free of charge, what would it be?"

"I think it would have to be a secretary. At the moment I answer all my own letters, all my own calls, and they tend to pile up and I'm very bad at them. What I would love is a secretary who's about 60 years old, trained in the Army, absolutely averse to speech before midday, waiting to be piled with masses and masses of work and chores -- a silent, completely efficient machine disguised as a human being."
-Peter Mayle [From an interview with BookPage]

Yes, I’m a tad bit obsessed with Peter Mayle at the moment. Not obsessed in the sense I want to visit Provence and find him (he already has enough fans who do this) but obsessed in the sense I enjoy him as an author. I like his idea of a personal secretary. Who wouldn’t love an assistant? I know mine would need to be trained as a coffee barista and hair stylist. My lattes and hair need care, after all.

Why go to church when you can go to Starbucks?

(What a blasphemous title! I know!)

"We like to say that our church is a genuine community of faith, the kind of place people can feel at home. Still, you may have to go down the block to get to see that become a reality for lots of people. We need to be honest and admit that people are lining up to get into Starbucks, but they aren't lining up to get into many of our churches. Why?" -Rev. Greg Asimakoupoulos [Source]

Why? I have a few theories:

Starbucks is trendy. Churches are not. Unless you consider the churches who serve Starbucks. They might be on to something.

Consider the kind of graphic design that goes into promoting churches. In a word: boring. Meanwhile, Starbucks knows how to successfully market itself.

Consider the calorie and sugar amount in frappuccinos (the popular drink for the non-coffee drinker). A venti mocha frappuccino has 500 calories with 67 grams of sugar. Many Starbucks goers never stop to check the nutrition information on drinks but I imagine all that sugar must make one very happy.

I have more theories but I’ll stop there. If you would like to share your own, feel free.

Music in every room

“Don’t pick out that. What are they going to do with a shower radio? Anyway, those things never work,” I advised.

My brother, A, was about to purchase a shower radio as a wedding gift for our mutual friends. I was against it. I had already picked out my gift, a bottle of fine wine. Nothing says romance like alcohol wrapped up in an elegant and expensive looking French bottle. My brother didn’t listen to me (of course) and purchased the silly shower radio anyway. Months later he ended up living with the married couple as a roommate on their couch. He was quick to remind me of our previous conversation concerning the wedding gift.

“I’ve been waking up every morning and groovin’ to some pretty hip tunes… in the shower.”

“Oh, you have, have you?” I replied.

“Yes, with the shower radio you said not to get. I guess they like it because its been in their shower and I’ve been making the most of it.”

“Uh huh."

At the risk of sounding contradictory and somewhat frivolous, I’ve been considering getting a shower radio. Not because of the previous conversation with my brother (although that does seem to come to mind) but because who wouldn’t want some music while in the bathroom? It can be tedious standing in the shower staring into the abyss or shaving ones legs without any form of inspiration. I just think music might liven things up a little. Does anyone know of a shower radio that works? I will probably need to do a little research.

Some baseball team plays here... I think?

While in Chicago I did come across this ballpark. What is Major League Baseball's oldest ballpark? The answer: Boston's Fenway Park (1912). The second oldest would be Wrigley Field (1914). Actually, according to this site Tiger Stadium also dates back to 1912.

Lodgings: Chicago vs. Southern Florida

While in Chicago I stayed at a luxurious Holiday Inn. I say “luxurious” because compared to the hotels I stayed at in Florida in July, it was exactly that. (You see, travel guides may not tell you this but the hotel rooms in Southern Florida tend to smell damp and musty. We stayed at a Travelodge and a Comfort Inn and this was true of both locations.) This is what I loved about my room in Chicago:

I had a king size bed, complete with seven pillows. I tried to make use of all seven pillows.

There were no strange smells present. The room was clean.

I had the room to myself.

I had all the privacy I needed because I was staying by myself.

Free wi-fi was available.

Did I mention I had the room to myself?

Live well, live simple

I have a very “live simple” approach to life. Meaning, I try not to collect things. I am the person who desperately fights to avoid becoming a pack rat. I live in an apartment and at this stage of my life (meaning: early 20s) there is a certain practicality about avoiding clutter. I love books but even these items I do not keep around for long. When I am done with a book I hand it over to my Mom, who in turn sells the book via half.com or ebay. She loves doing this and I’m more than happy to support her selling ventures.

Recently I was visiting my parent’s home when I walked into what my Mom refers to as the “ebay room.” This is where she stores all the items that will be sold. Most of them are books. Many of them are my former books or books that have collected in my parent’s house over the span of years. I perused the selection, stopping now and again to examine a particular title. I came across one book from years ago that I had once loved and immediately thought, “She can’t be selling this one! How dare she! The nerve!”

“Oh wait, you gave her this book to sell…. and this one… and this one…”

All of a sudden I wanted all my books back. I began making piles of the books that were far too worthy to be sold off at random. I stopped myself when I realized all my former books had made it into the “rescue” pile. If I took all of them back to my apartment I would definitely need to work out where I was going to put them. In the invisible bookcase I do not own? In my closet? Or what about the kitchen pantry?

I was well on my way to becoming the thing I hated most: the pack rat. With this in mind, I returned all the books and left the room. For good.

Breaking news: Rowling writing detective novel at Scotland cafe

'Tis true. Go here for more information.

Coffee shops in Chicago?

Also, a special note: I traveled all over Chicago and was greeted by a Starbucks on every corner but did not see a single independent coffee shop. So, my question is: do they even exist in Chicago? I will have to ask my Chicago sources...

Just a small town kind of gal at heart

I spent the weekend in Chicago meeting up with a friend who will be shipped off to Iraq in a matter of days and then, who knows what? I imagine he may develop a particular fondness for the Middle East and at that point may take up permanent residence there. Its been known to happen. An American moves to another country, falls in love with its unique customs and way of life, moves there, leaves life in the states behind… You know the story. If not, rent Under the Tuscan Sun for a quick course in what happens when Americans travel elsewhere.

While in Chicago a reoccurring thought kept playing through my mind. How do people live here? Also, why do people live here? I mean, for me I would pack up my bags after spending one day in traffic in the city. I know there are alternative forms of transportation but have you been on them? Does anyone actually enjoy the grim and overcrowded nature of public transportation? Do I really need to be packed into a tiny train car wishing the person shoved next to me had remembered to put on deodorant? I know I’m being slightly dramatic but in my big city travels I’ve never found a public transportation system that appeals to me.

Also, I’ll admit it: I like the freedom that comes with driving. But even driving becomes a nuisance when one attempts to travel a total of 5 feet in a big city. I suppose that leaves the final alternative: walking. Yes, I can do walking given the right footwear. Just don’t expect me to walk from Wrigleyville to Navy Pier because that kind of distance is ludicrous.

I have friends and family who have adopted Chicago as their home and so life in the big city is doable (or so I’m told). I just love the comfort of going somewhere without working my way through a crowd or having to leave an extra 10 hours of time to get from location A to B. I love going to the big city for travel but the greatest feeling of all is the return to the comfort of home.

American Apparel models are depressed (and creepy)

I understand models aren’t allowed to smile or reflect emotion but this is depression to the extreme:



Actually, it might just be creepy.

When I was younger (I’m thinking teenage years here) I went through a phase of subscribing to countless fashion magazines and store catalogs that I would get incredibly excited over. Oh, like every girl, I wanted to be pretty and have the right clothes. American Apparel wasn’t around in those days but if it had been I believe it would have utterly confused me. You see I became familiar with gorgeous, classically beautiful models. To this day, this is the kind of image I have in my mind. In the case of American Apparel their models tend to frighten me. Also, in many cases I have to stop and wonder, "What is she wearing? A plastic bag with zebra striped shorts? Is that what kids are wearing these days?”


* The images used in this post are courtesy of American Apparel.

Currently

At the moment I am surfing the Internet from my sister's house while her two dogs stand guard at the door. They saw a man ride by on his bike a minute ago. He must have had a mean look in his eye or have been carrying a bazooka because the sight of him made them go crazy. I was tempted to release the hounds. Speaking of release the hounds, where did that phrase come from? And why is it in my vocabulary?

Why the word “brunch” should be used with caution

“Let’s meet for brunch this Sunday.”

Let it be known, I am suspicious of anyone who uses the word “brunch.” If you are British royalty or perhaps dear Martha then the word “brunch” is suitable for your vocabulary. I have no trouble listening to Martha speak of brunch. She could talk about brunch for ten days straight and I wouldn’t have a problem with it. I do, however, have trouble listening to others use the word. Like my new sister-in-law, D, who arranged a family brunch this Sunday. She may not know this but my family doesn’t do brunch. We do breakfast, lunch and dinner, and that’s it. Napkins? Fine china? Eating with utensils? Don’t expect these fancy features, either. When we eat as a family it’s more like a primitive feast, complete with belching. Everyone talks over one another to the point of numbness. Scraps of food end up scattered about the table and floor. There is no etiquette or form of civilized manner. In short: family meals tend to be loud, eccentric and ultimately exhausting.

So, the notion of introducing brunch to a pack of wolves? Good luck with that one.

What is thread count? Why does it matter?

"Thread count in sheets can range from 80 to 700, although most stores sell sheets that range from 180 to 320. In general, the higher the thread count, the softer the fabric feels, but that doesn't necessarily mean the sheets will last longer (and sheets with a higher thread count are usually more expensive). One linens department manager says thread counts above 380 are "kind of a farce." Manufacturers twist two threads in a way that lets them double the sheet's thread count.

Recently, many linens manufacturers have touted thread count as the best way to choose a sheet. But others point out that the quality of the fibers and finish are more important to the sheet's comfort and durability. In fact, sheets made of linen, flannel, or jersey (those trendy "T-shirt" sheets) have low thread counts due to the type of fabric. A high thread count would eliminate part of the appeal of these sheets." [Source]

Now I'm off to inspect the thread count of my current sheets...

Direction

From Quote of the Day:

If we don't change direction soon, we'll end up where we're going.
-Professor Irwin Corey

Does this mean I'll live in Michigan for the rest of my life? Or that I will always be working as a coffee barista? I hope not. I mean, my life is fine the way it is now but that doesn't mean the status quo should continue forever.

On a totally unrelated note, it is exhausting trying to take care of roommate issues. The girl who was going to move in permanently for the year (and had already signed the lease) sent me an email last week saying, “Oh, by the way, change of plans! I’m not going to be moving in!” It seems living with her boyfriend is preferred. So, I have a new roommate lined up. She is from Taiwan. I met with her Uncle this week to go over everything. He expressed concern that language may be an issue, as his niece is not fluent in English.

“I think maybe you both could learn from one another and get something out of living together… She can improve her English skills from being around you and you can learn a little about her culture… Do you like Chinese food?”

I believe the implication here is: I let her move in, she pays rent and learns English and in exchange I have my choice of General Tso’s Chicken or Moo Shu. The food sold me on the arrangement.

Birthdays for everyone

I left World Market with six Happy Birthday cards in tow. The cards cover August-October birthdays. The process of selecting the cards took about 30 minutes. I take the whole picking out greetings cards business very seriously. Maybe too seriously. I also make it a point to avoid all the cards that focus on getting old. "Ha ha! You are old!" seems to be a common theme. I find it irritating. I may make silly jokes related to age in person but I would never send such a greeting through the mail. I suppose the written me is much sweeter.

I have plans to one day switch over to using my own photos for greeting cards. I don't want to spend a fortune but I like the idea of my photos being used for something other than flickr. I don't even take the time to print my own photos. How sad. Of course, I'd be shocked to find a digital photographer who actually does print his/her photos.

Why my parents love me

From a recent conversation with my Dad:

Me: You have a birthday coming up, too.

Dad: Yes, I know, and I can't even keep track of my own age anymore... Not that I want to...

Me: You are turning 61.

Dad: Oh, am I?

Me: Yes, you are. You will be 61 at the end of August. Don't forget!

Serious eating from the BBQ

First, I had a hot dog...


Then I moved on to this juicy hamburger...


I like my toppings. Don't you?

Parenting for newbies

My brother, W, has only been married for a few months and yet is already delving into the world of parenting books. Do you need a book or strategy to be a parent? No, of course not. My parents didn’t need either one and they seemed to manage just fine. I do find it sweet in a sickening kind of way that my brother is investing so much thought into the horror that awaits him. He is incredibly optimistic and has been ignoring all the activities that will be taken from him once a baby enters his life. Activities that may or may not include:

A. Staying up all night with old fraternity brothers. (Yes, he was in a fraternity in college.)
B. Lazy afternoons spent watching ESPN and/or the Lions/Pistons/Red Wings/Tigers game(s).
C. Devoting every moment of the day to Ultimate Frisbee (be it playing, coaching, traveling to an event, organizing an event, chewing on Frisbees, etc.).
D. Playing Poker at the casino. Winning at the casino. Bragging about it to anyone who will listen.
E. Competing in an All You Can Eat Contest. Winning the contest. Bragging about it to anyone who will listen.
F. Hanging out with old fraternity brothers, again. (Because you can never spend too much time with your former brothers.)
G. Sleeping in until 5 PM, or so, each day…

While these activities may not appeal to everyone, they do hold great value for my brother, W. I can’t imagine him juggling a baby and sleeping in. Let alone a baby and the opportunity to chill with his old frat brothers.

“Duuude, wanna beer?”

“Yeah, just give me a sec to change this dirty diaper.”

Something tells me diaper changing will not be the hit of the party. I suppose it’s better in the long run that my brother doesn’t focus on all he will be giving up. (Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness… Haven’t all parents given up on these things?) Let him read one crazy parenting book after another, I say. What harm can it do?

He is currently raving about the Parenting with Love and Logic approach. I’m no parent but I allowed myself to listen as my brother explained in great detail how it works. You see, instead of punishing your child you provide a series of choices. You apply all choices with love… and logic.

“Amanda, do you want to clean your room or do you want to spend the next week without video games?”

Amanda has a choice at this point. She can clean her room and prosper. Or, if she chooses the second option she faces a heartbreaking week without Wii Bowling. If this method works the child has the opportunity to learn from their mistakes and ideally, will learn to make the best choices. You don’t tell your child what to do, you just find a way to put everything into a sentence with a choice and ensure that you have raised the most spoiled child on the playground. Suppose your child hits another child. Don’t get angry! Provide a choice, instead.

“Amanda, do you want to hit that other child some more or do you want to spend the next month without Strawberry pop-tarts?”

Preferably, Amanda will choose Strawberry pop-tarts over hitting. If not, I’d hate to meet the parent of the other kid.

Following the Love and Logic approach you would never simply command your child to do something. The following phrases would not be kosher:

"Clean your room."

"Do not hit that little boy."

"It’s your bedtime. Go to bed."

"Don’t light the dog on fire."

"Stop stealing cigarettes from the gas station and lighting up in your room."

"I want you to stop hanging out with members of Al Qaeda."

There are more effective ways to communicate the phrases listed above. Just make sure to do so in a positive, loving manner.

"Matthew, you can finish smoking that pack of Marlboros or you can avoid developing lung cancer by the age of 9. Which one will it be? Lung cancer? Really? Okay, you made your choice."

My parents never practiced the Love and Logic approach. They were actually quite cruel. I had no choices. It was always:

"Don’t smoke."

"Don’t do drugs."

"You are going to mass every Sunday. Even if you fall asleep during it or leave your seat 2-3 times claiming you need to go use the bathroom each time."

"No, you cannot sneak out of the house with your cousin, Audrey, in the middle of the night in order to ride your bike up to the gas station, buy Mountain Dew and candy, and return expecting everything to be okay."

It should also be noted that from the moment I was born until 18 years later I was forced to follow a curfew. There was no discussion, no choice. I never had the chance to learn that hanging out on the streets at 4 AM isn’t always the best idea. Even to this day, I have trouble knowing if it is the best idea or not. Is it?

I don’t want to discredit the Love and Logic approach entirely. I just feel other parenting strategies should be considered. This is the book I would use above all others:



Maybe it’s time to send my brother a copy. He could analyze the Love and Logic method versus the Mary Poppins approach to parenting. I personally would go with the Mary Poppins approach. That way kites could be involved in the process and who can say, “No,” to kites?

Key West, FL - July 2007

A few summers ago I borrowed my sister’s silver Acura while my own car was in a state of disrepair. Driving a new car is always exciting and as I looked about I couldn't help but notice her copy of Kenny Chesney’s When the Sun Goes Down. I don’t listen to country but for whatever reason decided my hearing needed testing. I turned on the CD, put on my shades, and began cruising to the sound. I found my mood improving within seconds. Also, I made the shocking discovery: each song told a story! Most of the stories had some kind of moral lesson in mind. Like, don’t walk out on your wife and kids. Or, another important lesson: some people change. I developed a soft spot for Kenny Chesney. How could I not? There is a particular song I like titled, Outta Here. These lyrics came to mind on my recent trip to Florida. The song goes a little like this:


There ain't no time like the present they say
Lets cruise all the way down A1A
Put the top down and catch a few rays
Baby we'll be outta here

Later in the closing lyrics:

Come on baby lets get outta here
Cruise down A1A
Go hang out in Key West for awhile

You see, on my trip we cruised all the way down the A1A. We also hung out in Key West for awhile. Just like the lyrics in the song! I was very excited to be living a Kenny Chesney song. I realize the “we” and “baby” in the song is referring to a romantic partner, which my trip did not involve (I was on a semi-family vacation, after all) but I’m willing to accept other interpretations. I’ve been known to call my sisters “baby.” At least, in the context: “Stop being a big baby.”

Once we reached Key West the scenery changed dramatically.


A mean city street.


Hemingway’s crib.


An annoying rooster that begged for his photo to be taken. I didn’t have the heart to say, “No.”

And, a tiny piece of heaven:


Ahhh… isn’t Key West grand? I’ll post more photos in the future.

Coffee in ice cream form

Recipe for coffee ice cream. Nate's family makes homemade ice cream (with success) all the time. Maybe I should this recipe their way.

Backyard kayaking

I live right by a river and during the spring and summer months it is packed with colorful kayakers sailing on by. I have taken to envying them from afar. I'm no kayaker but that doesn't mean I don't also feel the need to be one with the waters. I priced out kayaks and while I can't afford one right now, I'm still keeping it in mind. I like this little lady in pink:



This kayak is a part of the Calypso Women's Kayak Package, priced at $649. Do I absolutely need it? No. Would I find myself ooooing and aaaing over it if I purchased it? Yes.

No frills

The July 2007 edition of Wired magazine includes an elaborate “How to” section. How to change your oil, how to bribe someone, how to order a drink; the categories are numerous. Under the How to Dress Like a Professional section the following quote caught my eye:

“We have become a nation of slobs. I regularly see people in sweatpants and flip flops, even on Seventh Avenue.” –Tim Gunn, chair of fashion at the Parsons School

I am not fashion savvy but this quote stood out to me. Is the US a nation of slobs (in regard to dress)? I know I tend to dress casual but how casual is too casual? I clean up rather nicely when I need to (most people do) but “dress up” occasions are rare. Of course, even if one agrees the US is a nation of slobs the question becomes: does it matter? After all, don’t most Americans prefer doing their own thing?

Last night at dinner I met up with a few of my siblings. I noticed my brother, W, was wearing his baseball cap inside the restaurant. My first reaction was to reprimand such poor etiquette! I caught myself before the words came out and then marveled at the fact such thoughts had entered my head in the first place. Who am I turning into, Emily Post? If my brother wants to wear his baseball cap inside a restaurant does it really matter? Is the chef or anyone else in the restaurant going to find his cap wearing offensive? Probably not.

Of course, I find it interesting that so many Americans wake up, throw on clothing, leave the house and simply don’t care. Why it is nearly everyone has decided this “no frills” method is the way to go?

Starbucks at home

There was once a time in my life in which I knew very little about coffee. During this time I began drinking Starbucks bottled frappuccinos, thinking, “Oh! I’m a coffee drinker now!” I thought they were fantastic. They have a slight coffee taste but mostly, come out tasting creamy. My taste buds and knowledge of what is and is not coffee has expanded since then. I don’t drink bottled frappuccinos anymore but if someone handed me one, I would probably enjoy it. I posted a link on (How to) Roll Your Own Frappuccinos back in March 2006. (The recipe is not mine but it seems another blogger has devised a DIY version of the beverage.) This post came to mind as I did my own “spur of the moment” experiment this morning. (Meaning, I wasn’t following any recipe. I was just doing my own thing.)

I brewed vanilla flavored coffee, allowed it to cool and transferred it to the refrigerator. Once the coffee was completely cool I poured just a touch of coffee into my cup, then filled the remainder with nonfat milk. I tasted the drink. “Hmm. It needs more vanilla.” I pulled out my DaVinci vanilla syrup* and added just a smidgen. I tasted it again. “Hmm. It could probably use sugar.” I stopped right there, however, because I don’t need extra calories. In all, the drink is enjoyable. It reminds me of the bottled frappuccinos but with fewer calories.

* I have a stash of 15-20 different coffee syrups at home. Most of them are DaVinci, which is what we use at the coffee shop I work at and so I’m slightly biased.

I make a mean landlord

I’m starting to feel as if I live in a boarding house. Let me explain. I live in a three-bedroom apartment (that totals 955 square feet). I also live with roommates, which is fine because humans are social animals, after all, and when I want to be anti-social I can lock myself away in the room and pretend I don’t hear any knocking if someone approaches my door. Currently, I live with my permanent roommate, L and myself. In the fall we have another permanent roommate moving in. L is home for the summer, which leaves two open rooms. We decided to sublease the extra rooms for the summer. I had the best roommate ever (future medical doctor, J) stay from June through July. Yesterday someone with a Russian accent moved in for August. There is also another gal who will be moving in for August in a few days. What happens at the end of August? Well, everyone moves out except me. L returns and our permanent roommate will move in. There should be no other changes for at least a year. Are you confused, yet? I know I am.

So, with everyone moving in and out I have to keep the apartment in squeaky-clean order. I also have to play “Welcome Guide” each time a new person arrives.

“This is where you can store your groceries…”

“This is the balcony, notice how it wraps around…”

“Feel free to use the TV whenever you feel like it… there are a few DVDs you can watch on the side…”

I’ve considered going to the extent of keeping fresh flowers out or tea, just to make the place a little more charming, but I’ve held back. This is a no-frills boarding house, after all, and each tenant is only temporary. Best not to get too attached.