An Interesting Realization

So I was sitting in my cubicle in the late afternoon at the Fed and I was beat. I could have napped right there. There was no chance my body was biking seven miles and doing the other various torturous gym activities I find myself doing. I just wanted to go home and sleep. Perhaps I was getting sick, maybe dehydrated, or ever lacking sleep. I am unsure.

I do know the following:
- Back in my teaching days; I walked around, talked all day, never had a moment to rest, yelled at kids, walked up and down 5 flights of stairs all day long, no AC and nagging children constantly saying, "Ms. Ribods...."
- Now I sit in AC, cushioned chair (who knew they existed?), stare at a computer, speak the language of acronyms, interact with maybe 5 people in person and I'm no longer on an 8 period schedule.

5:00pm is the new 3:20pm. Conference calls are the new faculty meeting. Lunch? No one does it. And there I am.....ready to pass out at around 3pm. I am not sure what to make of this lifestyle I am living this summer. It's odd. It's what most of the working world deals with everyday. How?! I don't miss teaching, but I miss getting through the day in one piece.

Verdict: The grass is not always greener :)

Cubicle Face Time

So I recently started my internship at a federal government agency. It is a bit different than working in a school mainly because I find myself in a cubicle and there are no kids here. I am learning that working in an office with adults may be worse than working with kids. You cannot threaten a phone call home or a lunch detention to adults. On the other hand, I have not come across anyone worthy of a lunch detention. Everyone is very nice and helpful here.I have no clue what the weather is while I am sitting in the cubicle, it is almost like I am in a time warp, but the day does go by quickly.

I am quite impressed by the security of this place. It is slightly more secure than my classroom with the busted lock. Now I have not one but two separate ID cards that require thumb prints and codes to be punched in. My roommate thinks the ID's can get us through velvet ropes of local lounges and bars. I am not sure I want to test her theory.

Despite learning a ton about a certain humanitarian part of the government (I'm being vague here on purpose!), I hate the thought of not having a summer vacation. Thankfully, I still have a beach pass and hit the sand on the weekends, but there is something amazing about sleeping late every day for 8 weeks and getting paid for it!

Sardinia

I recently got back from a 10 day voyage to Sardinia, Italy. I took 12 kids from one of the schools that I work at. I don't think the "12 kids" part registered when I was asked to go to Italy for FREE. I think it finally hit when I was at the airport getting the kids checked in and it came time for me to get my ticket, I asked the agent to put me far from all the pubescent children he just checked in. Unless you are flying first class internationally or coach on Singapore Airlines, the experience across the pond can be long and mundane with the exception of free wine for everyone! The combination of three glasses of wine and Tylonal PM, put me out for much of the 7 hour journey to Rome and refreshed enough to deal with missing our connecting flight in a foreign country. Luckily, the sight of my last name and saying I was Sicilian seemed to be my get out of a sticky situation card in much of Italy. The traveling experience as a whole felt like being on the Amazing Race with the addition of 12 extra pieces of carry-on baggage that moaned and whined. This quickly led to the enforcing of two important rules: the questions "where are we going?" and "are we there yet?" were prohibited unless you wanted an extremely sarcastic and possibly offensive response from chaperone Ribods.

The trip on a whole was amazing. The people were incredible. The food was awesome (no shocker there). It was hot, it was sticky, there were no AC's or fans, but it wasn't bothersome. I mean, this is Italy! I consumed maybe 8,000 calories a day, but it was fine. Saying no to food is far worse than eating it and dealing with the aftermath. I ate figs and apricots off the tree, made bread, started a sketch book, swam in the Mediterranean, walked about a mile into a grotto, studied an artist, attended an Italian mass, and just enjoyed the life. I lived with a host family that spoke no English. Communicating became a mixture of my horrible Italian, Spanish (got me no where), and hand gestures. I'm sure I said "yes" to questions like, "do you like to eat the heart of a lamb?" and "so you are Sicilian? You know they are the dirty scum of our nation?" It all worked out though.

Here are some pictures (click on them to immerse yourself in Sardina!):

The group before catching the boat to the beach.

Mini espressos...who needs Starbucks.

The beach....I'm not sure we had a good reason to leave.

A cool tree we all ended up climbing during our lunch siesta.

My host family and fellow chaparoner. (l-r: Francesca, Ribods, Pepe, Jerry)

The church where you kneel on planks of wood...no padding here.

The view from my bedroom overlooking the town of Orani.

Seafood salad....I only ate the shrimp, but it was impressive to look at.

Standing behind a cutout of traditional Sardinian garb....wool, it was 95 degrees.

Summer Storm

I was getting ready to head to the train station and back to the city when I suddenly realized a huge storm was making it's way in. The clouds were pretty impressive to watch roll in.

Scenes from the Rooftop

You can see the entrance to the new 2nd Avenue subway line right above the two cabs.

Looking west along 35th Street towards the Empire State Building.

Looking northwest towards midtown.

Life at the Country House

Kaitlyn and Joseph are clearly up to no good in the back yard.

Chicken marinated in garlic, freshly parsley and lemon juice.

Joseph sharing his cupcake with Poppy.

Kaitlyn and Joseph sharing a loaf of bread.

Looking south at the Katonah train station.

I spy Bambi.

Check out the bee!

Mom and Dad laughing it up on the patio.

Megan is loving life.

Derby de Mayo

Mets vs Brewers

Saturday marked our first Mets game with the season tickets. Unfortunately, the Mets lost to the Brewers, Johan Santana pitched a bad game, but it didn't end up raining and good times were had by all (expect the mother sitting in front of us). We started the day off drinking blueberry beer, playing Wii, and eating some party mix (all thanks to Tort). JT could not make it to the game (something about being in St. Maartin), so Roommate joined in and proved to be much cooler! We even had some Mr. Softee.

These weren't our actual seats, we managed to hang out on the lower level when JDF was in the bathroom. It seemed like a Kodak moment.

3/4's of the original Mets crew....Roommate was an OUTSTANDING substitute.

The physical abuse I get from Roommate, even when I give her a ticket to the Mets game.

Citi Field in the outfield. Roommate didn't realize it was a whole other field...she just thought it was part of Shea.

JDF is wondering how he managed not having a gold bracelet that matched his gold glasses all this time.

Classic photography....Tort is up to no good with Ribods.

BTW- We are clearly sober in all of these pictures.

Books

I did some rearranging of the library and thought I'd take a snap shot of what I've read.

The Orchid

Roommate brought this orchid plant home from work the other day. This is not only a very expensive flower, but also a unique flower that requires a tremendous amount of care compared to most plants. The plants stays in my room during the day so it receives the proper amount light every day. After reading up on orchids, once they stop blooming it becomes a challenge to regrow the plant after cutting it down.

Roommate lost interest in the orchid soon after her delivery. In an email she said, "the orchid turned out to be a lame addition...that thing just sits in roommates (Ribods') room, listening to NPR, reading about rats, emailing on its flowerberry..."

Fajitas

I decided to make some fajitas tonight, the night that Jesus had the Last Supper with the 12 Apostles on Holy Thursday. I am not sure what Jesus ate for dinner other than bread and wine, but I doubt he had fajitas. Anywho, the color of the chicken, peppers, and red onion cooking seemed photo worthy.

Roasted Garlic

Four heads of garlic with the tops sliced off so every clove is slightly exposed. Drizzled some olive oil on top and baked at 350 F for 30-40 minutes. Like butter.

Svbway

I have been to the City Hall/Brooklyn Bridge subway stop on the 6-train many times, but I never took notice of how "subway" was spelled.

I did some research about the missing "u" in subway. Apparently, "v" was used instead of "u" in ancient Latin writings. It was not until the Middle Ages that we begin to see the "u" and "w" letters in writing.

Oh.....How Things Have Changed

I spent the last two months going to Met games, going to the beach and drinking (all while getting paid by the board of education). Now that I am in my second week of school, it all seems like a distant past for me. I was forced to trade my Long Beach pass for my student ID and my obsession with the New York Magazine website to an uncalled for infatuation with NYU Home and Blackboard.

Even though I was saddened to shake the sand off the Mexican blanket one last time on Labor Day, I was satisfied with great beach attendance and look forward to being a resident of Long Beach with the beach pass next summer. JT's attendance was so impressive, he too will become a resident of Long Beach next year. We started the summer drinking punch on Riverside Memorial Weekend with Cat and the crew, ventured to Pacific many times, and slowly walked off Riverside Labor Day to conclude the solstice (sans the punch).

Since then, I have become a full-time student, work four days a week at two different schools as a science coach and as an administrative assistant, and then I cater on the weekends. I am not sure how I get through the day between work, class, readings, sleep, watching The Hills, and discussing it with Mara, but I could not be happier with my choice to leave teaching and embark on a new field which really only includes reading about AIDS, health policy, infectious diseases, and medical ethic at the moment. I am awaiting the epidemiology.......!

Gecko!

Hanging out with a good friend at the OAR concert at Jones Beach.

The Floating Pool

One of my quests this summer during the hot days is to find relaxing and cool places throughout the city. Sometimes I would rather take the hot, humid Florida heat over the hideous summer heat in New York City. The heat index can be unbearable due to the amount of concrete and lack of breeze ways because of the buildings.

Looking east towards Brooklyn on the barge

The parks department had a great idea to create a floating pool on a barge and dock it in Brooklyn Heights. This completely intrigued me because it looked so amazing and refreshing in the pictures. One can swim is NYC while having the downtown skyline behind you , the Statue of Liberty in the distance and the Brooklyn Bridge off to the side. Best of all, it is FREE. According to the NY Times, the barge will most likely head to Miami in the winter months.

Looking west towards Manhattan on the barge

There are hour and half swim slots at the pool (to limit the amount of people at one time), a deck to lay down and on mainland there is an actual beach. This totally was not enough time for me to take it all in, but nonetheless, it was something I plan to do again.

The Outfield

I took this picture at Shea Stadium yesterday at the Mets game vs. the Reds. The lines on the grass caught my eye, as did the lonely outfielders. Even though we were short a few of the normal ticket holders, it turned out to be a great game. Weather was perfect, Chipotle for lunch, two beers at the game, and a victory.

Pesto

Pesto is a fragrant sauce made from fresh basil, olive oil, pine nuts, graded cheese and garlic. It originates in Genoa, Italy (way the heck up north). I have only really had pesto at JDF's house and with my vegetarian co-workers (all freshly made). In addition, when I was in northern Italy last summer, I had to have some. I made pesto from 5 cups of basil for mother's day and took some back with me to share and make other meals.

This is the beginning of the pesto process. Since I was the main chef for 8 adults and 3 little turds, I set the kitchen up like my Food Network counterparts (use every bowl and drink along the way).
Once the pesto was mixed and ready, I placed it in this tupperware for safe keeping. It wasn't long before my father's finger was dipping in there, the kids called it slime, and Joe Ribods said, "it's Sunday, why isn't the gravy red?" This is no Rachel Ray 30-Minute meal, more like the Barefoot Contessa. Enter: Second glass of wine.

Once the salad was made, the vegetables were grilled and the steaks pretty much done...I drained the ziti and mixed in the pesto in a serving bowl (shown above). It turned out to be a hit among the natives, although only 1 out of 3 kids ate it.

I managed to take back about 1/2 cup of left over pesto to my apartment. I split lunch Monday with Iz, then tonight I threw some stuff together. I took a filleted chicken breast and rubbed it with pesto. Then I cooked in a white wine sauce with red pepper flakes. Finally, I added crimini mushrooms and garlic. The chicken was served beside some spaghetti with pesto. YUM.

Chicken Parm

I know many of you think of chicken parmigiana as the quintessential Italian meal composing of a breaded chicken cutlet, mozzarella cheese, tomato sauce and possibly served over spaghetti. But once you step out of the world of all you-can-eat salad and bread sticks at Olive Garden and into one of the kitchens (upstairs or downstairs) of real Italians, you will see a totally different culinary experience.

Though parmigiana means literally, "from Parma" (a town in Italy), the name derives from parmiggiana, a Sicilian recipe made with fried eggplant, tomato sauce and mozzarella. Believe it or not, in my two trips to the mother-land, I did not see chicken parm on the menu once. And to be completely honest, it was a rare day if we ever had it for dinner growing up in the Ribods house or any Italian household (even Bananas' house).

Tonight's dinner with Sunday's gravy. Breaded chicken cutlet, gravy, fresh mozzarella cheese and fresh basil with a side of pasta (freshly grated pecorino romano).

In order to have chicken parm for dinner, the following had to occur:
- Mama Ribods would have to fillet, bread, and fry about 8-10 pounds of chicken breasts for dinner. No Italian actually fillets, breads, fries and then makes the parm all in one night. Not worth all those pans.
- There would have to be left over cutlets after we all got through them. On a typical night about 15 cutlets might be remaining. Generous estimate.
- My mother would cut 2-3 cutlets for me into squares for lunch until I graduated high school. Joe Ribods would eat one for breakfast on the way to school. When we got home from school, we would snack on more cutlets. At this point, there would be no more left.
- On the very rare occasion that Joe Ribods didn't take 20+ cutlets to the face in 48 hours and Mama Ribods didn't feel like cooking, she would make some chicken parm with the leftover cutlets. On any given day you will find a bowl of Sunday gravy and a ball of fresh mozzarella cheese in the fridge downstairs. In the upstairs kitchen you will find the frozen reserve gravy. She would throw the cutlets on a pan, spoon some gravy on the chicken, put some cheese and basil on top....then bake for 20 minutes.

Please be aware that Joe Ribods stops by the house from work to take some cutlets "to go."

Afternoon Wine

Carol & Ashlee (aka: Smashlee)

Even though we got about 6 inches of snow yesterday, last weekend marked the first slightly warm, nice weekend. I spent the morning at Saturday Morning Math Academy with students and the math department at school. It was quite fun. Later on that day we all went to Flavia's baby shower on the East side. Ashlee, Iz and I had time to kill, so we went to Republic for a glass of wine in Union Square.

Iz, Kara, Ribods and Carol all on the sauce.

Once we got to the restaurant where the shower was being held, we laughed, we drank, and we ate. My three favorite things to do. I realized that one of my new favorite things to do is drink white wine in the middle of the day. We were seated at a table close to the door and this gave us more reason to have more fun. We were completely removed from the rest of the guests. We took advantage of our table real estate and had the Saturday afternoon of our lives. Below is a picture of Iz and Cat.