"A voice exclaimed..." ~ Jane Eyre

It is late Sunday night and I am sipping banana vanilla liquor with skim milk and ice (the bottle came recently as a souvenir from St. Martin) and smelling my new cinnamon platter (another kind gift from my sister's trip), wishing there were lots and lots of words on that platter to take and devour here on this blog. Last night the Prince turned to me, as he has a few times in the past month, bringing up the subject of the blog. "I know, I know" I say.

I know.

Somewhere in this cold winter my voice seems to have gone into hibernation...huddled tightly amidst the cold that brought on by life's tragic circumstances. Though, as days become more manageable, I am beginning to feel a thaw...perhaps a fresh ray of sunlight through all of this...and work to wake up this voice that has been resting.

Tuesday I enter my 31st year, and that is the day that I hope this voice is reborn...

"The New Year had been celebrated..." ~ Jane Eyre

My New Year's resolution is simple: be greedier.

It may strike one as an odd resolution at first, but it actually is not. Its the best resolution one can give herself, and I have every intention of sticking to this resolution.

I am going to want more time savoring what is best in my life. I do so already, but one can never be too rich in the simple pleasures and serene beauty of everyday moments with a lover, with friends, and with family. I do not take my blessings for granted, but I can take a little bit more from life. In the wake of the tragedy that has ensued, this is a promise to myself. I am taking more...much more...bowlfuls more.

More dates set to cook with Jack. More reasons to gather friends around me. More time for myself. More moments for creativity. More time to sip my coffee rather than gulp it. More time for my body to slim down. More time to blog. More time on the phone with my parents when we talk. More indulging in cookbook recipes. More naps on weekends. More champagne drinking when at a bar. More days at the beach this summer. More cocktails with umbrellas in them. More music for the Ipod. More comedies and less dramas.

When I am with the Prince, more minutes before our lips part during a kiss, more time holding each other, more pauses so I can stare into his eyes, more time away together on weekend getaways, more nights just sitting on the couch drinking scotch, more cooking meals together in the kitchen, more lazy days playing Star Wars video games, more days out on the town in Manhattan, more time together with each other's families.

Happy New Year to my dear readers - may you be greedy this year and enjoy each moment of life....

"Amidst unutterable exhaustion..." ~ Jane Eyre

To sleepy to type or write and wishing I could get into bed and not get out for a few days! My bank is the custodian of the bailout, and as great as it is getting new clients, the work has become exhausting. If I could have anything right now in this moment, it would be a full night's and full day's sleeping with the Prince...

"I remember it now, and I know that it was the effluence of fine intellect, of true courage..." ~ Jane Eyre

The conversation about character ensued once again yesterday between me and the Prince. The Prince told me he was rethinking my placement, and expressed to me that perhaps I should also be in Gryffindor since...well...there is a lot of Hermione in me. At first I scoffed at this. Me? But then realized the fact that my Friday nights spent in the Hofstra University library studying was not going to help me in this argument. Nor were the facts of my bookish ways, sense of confidence, and corrective ways when it comes to instructing others. Still, I thought I belonged in Ravenclaw, so I took four different Harry Potter personality quizzes online this morning to confirm that. It confirmed something, all right.

I am Hermione.

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Last night the Prince and I decided to stay in and watch the first film, and after we got off the phone I had some ideas in my head to surprise him with and make it a special evening. First, my goal was to have butterbeer and pumpkin pie for dessert. Then I started thinking about how fun it would be to decorate a bit and use plates and napkins as part of that. Then I started thinking even more about decorating, and this is what I did:

- put a black light in my floor lamp

- lit candles everywhere

- placed spider tablecloth on table along with matching spider plates and cups

- decorated table with fake eyeballs

- purchased clear skeleton mugs for butterbeer

- got Griffyndor scarf and Harry glasses to put on the Prince as a surprise

We decided to get comfort food from our favorite local pub as takeout - burgers and spinach and artichoke dip. I had Beck's Oktoberfest beer and Smutty Nose Pumpkin Ale in my refrigerator. I also had gone to the liquor store to get Butterscotch Schnapps to make butterbeer. When he arrived, I closed the door so he couldn't see what I had done and told him to close his eyes. I led him in and then placed the scarf and glasses on him and had him open his eyes. It was a wonderful evening and I am excited to continue our plans to read the books and watch the films together. As for the butterbeer, we both loved it: one part butterscotch schnapps on ice to four parts vanilla cream soda. Mmmmm.

"Know the sweet homage given to beauty, youth, and grace..." ~ Jane Eyre

Cafe Angelique sits on the northwest corner where Grove and Bleecker intersect. I sit in a chair with a rusted metal back, the one you see in the photo, by the counter where an entire display of mini cheesecakes, petite fruit tarts, and small chocolate mousse cakes are just out of my reach because its only eleven o'clock in the morning. This place is a French-style cafe with photos of Venice on each wall and ran by Israelis. Hence, I say "to-da" to the woman instead of the English thank you when she brings me a homemade croissant with damson jam and an iced cappuccino with a perfect foam amidst the ice.

This place is as eclectic as the city it lives in, and as if I were in a movie with obvious symbolism, Billy Joel's New York State of Mind begins to play. I smile and enjoy one of life's perfect moments of sweet irony.

In less than two weeks I will be commuting to the city as an assistant on the trading floor of the Foreign Exchange of a prominent and stable investment bank on Wall Street where I will be utilized for my critical thinking skills, writing skills, and people skills. I sit in the cafe after my processing that occurred in the morning, ordering with ease and comfort since my salary is starting at more than I was making as a teacher when I left after seven years. I am excited for this new chapter in my life, for I get to still do what I love to do all day: read, write, and problem solve. I spent my twenties doing for others, and now its time to do for myself. I am finally doing some investing of my own in my well being and my future, and although I joke that I have gone from Sesame Street to Wall Street, I am really proud of the transition and change. I am even contemplating an M.B.A. since the company will pay for it.

So today I officially resign from the education field, ready to relish in the sweetness of my new career and new adventures. Forget life being like a box of chocolate - right now it feels like an entire case of sweet pastries...

"Eat when excited..." ~ Jane Eyre

One of the more poignant scenes in Sex and the City is when Charlotte breaks down in front of Carrie, hysterical crying after Carrie calls her out on a fear she has. She can hardly speak through her sobs, but she manages to say that life is too good, too perfect, and too wonderful right now and something has to go wrong...how can one be so blessed with such happiness? Carrie reminds her that she has been through enough pain in her life, and its time to enjoy the joy. And in the end, Charlotte does.

I think the movie addressed the issue that it is possible to have your cake and eat it, too. The etymology of that statement is an interesting one. It dates back to 1596 as a metaphorical idiom for what is impossible - you cant eat cake and then have it because you already had it! Still, what we think is impossible in our daily lives may be possible. Its a simple kind of hope that is as plain as a vanilla cupcake, but also as sweet as one.

I feel like Charlotte in this moment - I am so thankful for all of my blessings, but at the same time I fear having it all because life is seemingly perfect right now. I expressed that to my cousin, Steph, the other evening. The eve of my thirtieth birthday was one of the darkest moments of my life, and everything seemed impossible to obtain and turn around and fix both personally and professionally. And then, as if it were the exact moment I made my wish on that piece of birthday cake, the impossible became possible and my dreams were sliced like a cake because they soon became the best reality.

And so, readers, there is a moment in Jane Eyre where Jane leaves her career in education for good and comes into her own wealth as she looks towards her future with Rochester. This is the moment where I leave education and move on to making real money in a new job. I have a new career, I have my Prince, I have the best family and friends, and I have been given the ingredients to make a cake that I am going to have and eat, too. As tempted as I am to cry like Charlotte and worry that this will all be lost, I remember that this was not given to me. I worked for this, just like I will work to make this cake and sweat over it until its ready for the taking, and will enjoy the sweets of my labor...

"While such honey-dew fell..." ~ Jane Eyre

Its Saturday night and I am listening to "Honey, Honey" from the Mamma Mia soundtrack, keeping up with my latest ABBA kick since Wednesday night when I saw the film with sis Missy. I am totally thinking of the Prince as I sip a cocktail made with vodka and valencia/mango juice in a blue martini glass and am singing along to lyrics such as "Honey honey, how you thrill me, ah-hah, honey honey..." He is on his way here soon, and as the song goes, I feel like I wanna sing when you do your thing.

Life is as sweet as honey lately and as thickly rich. I was cruising in the car earlier with the sunroof open, blasting ABBA, looking at the blue skies, sipping the bottom caramel layer of an iced caramel macchiato, and totally enjoying the moment of bliss because I feel the most relaxed and the most secure than I have in a great while.

So far, thirty has been the best year in my entire life, and I am so excited for the rest of the year to unfold. I wouldnt trade this moment for anything, and I wouldnt go back to my twenties if I had the chance. I was a dancing queen at seventeen and loved that time until college ended, and then I feel like I wasted a lot of emotions in my early twenties. I love that I am able to take a chance on me once again and change my lifestyle these days. Indeed, lately I give myself credit for being a super trooper and forging ahead despite some hard obstacles. I can spend more time doing things I love, like reading historical fiction that recounts the moments in the battle of Waterloo. In the end, I think I have figured out the name of the game, and I have never been happier because I am the winner taking it all.

So, what's your favorite ABBA song and why? :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2P3SWl0EAAs

"Her beauty, her pink cheeks and golden curls..." ~ Jane Eyre

Mute Monday: Beauty (is in the eye of the beholder...)




Me in the mirror at Onteora B and B in true Whitman form, celebrating myself after 30 years of struggling to do so and finally triumphing...

"Sweet paintings of butterflies..." ~ Jane Eyre

It has been two and a half months, and the butterflies will not cease to exist inside of me. Their wings flap inside of my stomach as crisply as a white linen sheet drying outside on a windy spring day, refusing to cease for even a moment for some tranquility. When the phone indicates his number, they begin to move inside of me, as if they were walking up a stem, slowly approaching a flower that is steadily in bloom. When a time is set to meet him, they leave the pillar all together and fly in the space that is my stomach, speedily pounding their wings in sync to the rhythm of my heartbeat. Before the hour of which we are set to meet, I try to distract myself from their continual soaring in my soul. Nothing really helps cease their presence, so eventually my encompassing the butterflies becomes the butterflies encompassing me. As time passes, I become more and more skeptical that they shall ever leave. Then again, I love their beauty, as well as the beauty they represent, and realize that perhaps I do not wish for them to leave...

"The noises I hear round me are bubbling..." ~ Jane Eyre

It has been the most mauvaise of Mondays.

Compounding finishing a regimen of antibiotics last night and battling exhaustion each day, the day itself was exceptionally ridiculous in how many aspects went wrong since walking through my office door at eight thirty this morning. It was such a wonderful feeling to walk through my door this evening, slam the door to the outside world, change into pajamas by seven o'clock, eat some leftover lamb from Easter, and turn on some vintage Madonna. Speaking to J.Sarah tonight was the best part of my day, and being reassured by my kindred spirit that the half life of the meds was quick, I realized that a celebration was in order after I finished discussing her trip to Germany she just arrived home from.

At first I thought wine - I have tons of Beaujolais. A nice glass of red with the New Yorker; perfect ending to a bad day. However, today was no ordinary bad day - it was filled with instances that made me think back to the Alexander of my youth, though I wish I was in France and not Australia.

So, what is a fille to do if she cant go to France?

Drink champagne.

I had a half bottle of Moet White Star and popped that cork, knowing it was a good remedy for a bad day. After all, people do have bad days in France, such as the bar maid in the Manet painting. She looks tres fatigue.

Having bubbles fizz up my nose as I sipped made the day all better. It was cold and refreshing, dry and crisp. Sometimes it is not enough to reward yourself with the usual and familiar. Sometimes you have to remember how much you love yourself and want yourself cheered up.

Sometimes you just have to drink champagne.