What I Was Looking For

Cover via Amazon

 

I'm back from a whirlwind trip to New York.

Maybe this is a bit cliche, but the trip was life changing.

If you haven't been following here, let me explain. I read the book Cleaving by Julie Powell. She made me look at life differently. She made me appreciate that life is messy and we need to embrace it.

I read about

 

Then after reading Cleaving I joined Julie's fanbook page and I found out that she was speaking at the Manhattan JCC. She was speaking with Gretchen Rubin of the Happiness Project. So, I bought the book, which is amazing as well, and long story short, I decided that I needed to meet Julie. Because what makes me truly happy

So, I booked a trip and went to New York.

Everyone was pretty amazing about it. Instead of being called crazy words like brave and amazing were used, and all of that melted my heart. You guys are amazing.

I decided to not only go to the speaking engagement, but also try to visit some of the places Julie talks about in her book. The place that was her solace was a butcher shop called Fleishers. As it turns out, this place has become quite famous. As it turns out, they are rockstar butchers. Who knew there was such a thing as a rockstar butcher. There is. 

So, off I went to Fleishers to see what it was all about. And they gave me a tour. Okay, I realized how off that sounds. But I was fascinated by the tour. And then they let me watch them cutting meat. Again, hard to explain unless you're in my head. But I had to do it. I had to understand this essential part of the book. As it turns out it was amazing. But, thankfully for all involved, I'm far more insterested in eating meat than butchering it. I'm good with that.

So, I left Fleishers around lunch time, and made my way back to Manhattan. I did a bunch of touristy stuff and then the big event happened.

Julie and Gretchen spoke with a moderator. Amazing. And then I was able to meet Julie.

Not the best picture of me. But let's all focus on Julie. Look how beautiful she is. Stunning and lovely.

The next day I just had a New York day. I went to Century 21, of course. And I got some lovely shoes. I also saw Ground Zero.  And tried to guess which building Julie worked in while writing Julie and Julia. And, I'm positive I passed it cause I got thoroughly lost looking for the store. Funny side note - 3 people asked me for directions yesterday. I pulled out my maps to help them. But it was funny since I was lost.
After Century 21 I stopped at Canal Street and got a Rolex for Mike. And some Chanel for me. (real, of course).

My final stop? Republic. This is where Julie drank gimlets. You can bet I had one. It was delicious. So so so good.

And I had a delicious lunch. Which I ate with chopsticks. And let me tell you several people helped me out with the chopsticks thing.
And then I had a lovely conversation with a woman a little younger than me. We talked about life, and chopsticks, and everything you can imagine. It was a moment that just happened. She was at the beginning of a journey. She wanted to write and follow her dreams. And, we talked about it. When I was leaving she said something to me that will always stick with me. She said: "Whatever you have found that brings you this joy - that's what I'm looking for."
That ended my trip.
It was a beautiful note to leave on.
And a pretty much perfect trip.

New York

Tonight I leave for New York.
I'm spending 2 days in New York. Just me.
I need this.
There are no expectations on my part. Not really. Yes, it's being referred to as "Juliequest" by some of my friends. And that's appropriate. Because yes. I really want to meet her. And hear her speak.
Yes, my excitement is palpable. You may be feeling sorry for the people who have to work with me all day as I try to quell my excitement.
But, there's a line in Cleaving that explains how I'm feeling. There are many sections in that book where I can relate.
But, Julie Powell has one line in Cleaving that pretty much explains my whole life.

If there's one thing I've learned about myself, it's that passions don't tend to run out. Would that they did.

I get that.
She had Julia. She had her butchery.
I have this.
My expectations. They are of me. To absorb the moment. To appreciate what I'm doing. To come back with a better understanding of why I need to do these things.
Passions don't tend to run out.
True that, Julie. True that.

Live Better Than You Dare

Cover via Amazon

I've been talking a lot about going to New York.
I've been talking a lot about Julie Powell.
And, I was tossing back and forth the idea of travelling to New York to go to an event she's speaking at. I know. A little crazy. But, also pretty cool.
And I've been reading the Happiness Project which is pretty full of some affirmations and quotes. I'll admit that I'm not exactly a daily affirmation person - but I do love a good quote. And one of her quotes is "Live as Well as You Dare." I thought that was pretty great - until my good friend said it should be changed to live BETTER than you dare.
And it's true. It's one of those quotes I play over and over in my head. I mean, do I dare? Do I do things I'm afraid of? Do I push things just a little more than I'm confortable with? Well, yes and no. Yes, for sure a lot. (just ask the people I work with)
So, with this whole New York thing - I'm going for it.
I was thinking about what inspired me in Cleaving. Like, I pretty much fell in love with the whole book - what Julie Powell said about herself (life lessons there). But it was also about butchery. I'll never forget the conversation I had with someone when I was halfway through the book. This person is a friend, but doesn't know me *that* well, and I was knee deep in the book, and had decided that perhaps I should move to New York and learn to be a butcher. It wasn't a serious thought. It was more of a completely engrossed in a book kind of thought.
He thought about it and suggested that perhaps I take some cooking classes, or even just try buying meat from a butcher (other than the grocery store).
And I was mulling this idea around when I decided that OMG! I could probably find the butcher shop from the book. (it's called Fleisher's) And go there! And, then I thought that I can't exactly buy meat there but they have soup and stuff. So, if nothing else - I can fly to New York, take a 2 hour bus ride to the store, eat a bowl of soup - and EXPERIENCE.
And, perhaps buy a shirt!
Live better than you dare.
Maybe to some people that's insane. To me - that's living!
Also, before I go, my friend helpfully sent me a title of a book to read (about meat) and some butchers in Toronto that have a similar philosophy. Awesome.
I'm SO excited.

Debating ...

Image via Wikipedia

Do you ever have those moments where you debate something? You know, wonder if you're compltely insane or have a really good idea?
Here's the thing.
I don't usually debate those things.
Someone once said about me "you always take the leap, and debate the merits of it after."
That's kind of true. In fact very true. I try not to be that way, but at the end of the day, it's what makes life fun, and it's what makes me me. And sometimes you just need to embrace courage.
And here's the thing.
I'm debating going to New York. For one night. On my own.
I *REALLY* want to go hear someone speak. 
I've been talking enough about Julie Powell. I've made all my friends read the book. I've been inspired by what she does. And, for me it's a matter of a relatively cheap flight and just going for it.
I should be able to get the time off work.
I've travelled to NY on my own several times, and can navigate my way around without any problem. I'm not particularly worried about any aspect of this.
In fact, I'm not even sure what I'm debating. I mean, yes, there's the one small issue of finding somewhere to stay, but it's one night... it's manageable.
And worth it.
right?
Or is it crazy?
Okay, and side note. My friend told me about a dinner party she went to where everyone there brought something from MtAoFC. I thought that was pretty much the COOLEST party idea ever. Well, next to my awesome 30th birthday fondue party.  But, you know, I have a birthday every year - and what's not to love about a pot luck - in the fancy french way!

Finding Yourself

When I was 19 I went to France. With my best friend.
She was working there as an au pair in the South of France (I think) - I traveled to meet her. After recovering from jet lag, and having a few days with the family she was with, we traveled together to Paris.
Picture it if you will. Two almost-19 year old girls. Together. Alone. In the City of Love.
We had life figured out.
Our trip was an adventure. We had a guide book that I was intent on following, and a couple of days in we decided to take a break from my plan and discover Paris. We found markets and we walked over bridges. We went to underground restaurants and sipped wine. We grocery shopped and ate red meat when people were stressed about mad cow. We made friends with people in the hostel and let some lovely Irish boys cook us dinner. We decided to forego taking the elevator up the Eiffel Tower and walked. We had sketches made of us that looked NOTHING like us and laughed our asses off. We spoke French (Susie did a much better job than I did) and we bought a whole tonne of Eiffel Tower crap at ridiculous prices.
When we were on the plane headed to Paris there were other young people - probably a little older than us. Different groups of people. And they all kept saying that they were going to Paris to find themselves. It became a joke between Susie and I. Whenever we left somewhere, like the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre, one of us would inevitably say "wow. I just found myself."
I guess it sounds like we were mocking the people who had traveled there for that purpose. But more than that it was the sense of security that we knew who we were - that there was nothing to find - and as we later put it, nothing we had really lost.
Fast forward about 12 years and it's a bit of a different story.
I've been writing a lot about my love of the author Julie Powell (of Julie and Julia and Cleaving). It's interesting to read her books. In case you haven't read Julie and Julia, Julie Powell decides to cook her way through Julia Child's book "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in one year. And she blogs her experience.
Though I'm not sure she specifically says the purpose of her year of cooking dangerously is to find herself, it's the same idea. Self discovery, overcoming a challenge, etc etc.
And, as I'm reading Julie and Julia I keep thinking about how in a way I'm in the same place.
I have moments when I gasp because something she says I so totally get. TOTALLY.
Which makes me think about that time in France.
Seriously. What happened? Granted when I went there it was just before highschool graduation. We pretty much knew where our lives were headed the next year (university) and I had it all figured out. I knew I would get married at 27 (happened a little earlier) and have a perfect career (I'm happy, but I had some miserable jobs in there) and have kids at 30 (ha. I had a 4 year old and newborn at 30). It never occurred to me that everything I was dreaming may not happen according to plan. And I really thought I had it figured out.
And now I'm 31.
I'm not where Julie was at when she turned 30. Our lives are remarkably different. And the same. But that feeling through the book - the feeling of wondering whether you're living life completely, getting the most out of it, making a difference, following your dreams ... I get that.
I'm pretty sure I don't want to be where I was at 19.
I know that every day is not magical (despite what Disney tells us). I know that even the greatest things we wish for and get (marriage, family, etc) are not always as simple and perfect as we may have dreamed. And I think that's okay.
At the end of Julie's project she found out that Julia Child wasn't her biggest fan. And, I guess that's kind of life.
But it also makes me think about my own kids. How do I instill in them that feeling that they can one day own the world, that at almost-19 they can seize the moment, take whirlwind trips and know that there's nothing they need to find, and nothing they've really lost? Am I putting them in the right place?
Thinking back though, in a way I think we did find ourselves. Well, maybe I can't speak for Susie (trust me - the woman has no problem speaking her own mind!), but I can speak for myself. Maybe I didn't feel the need to find myself in the Eiffel Tower or under the Arch de Triomphe, but looking back I need to remember what that 19 year old knew. That life is an adventure. That as much as it's great to follow a map and a plan life is so much more fun when you screw up, throw out the plan and have an adventure.
Carpe Diem, people. Carpe Diem.
Oh, and since I've been asked ... yes, I love love love Julie. But, no. I'm not going to start cooking. That was her thing. I'm proud of myself when I cook a stir fry, or make roast beef. Or bake some cookies. I don't honestly get all these copycat people. That's her adventure. I will find my own. (My husband and children thank me, I'm sure!)

Cheers to You, Anonymous!

So I got this lovely little comment on my blog yesterday.

"I agree with Steve and SciFi Dad ... you shold have tried the beef thing. That way your kids and husband could have been more prominent in "The story of your life" ... it's good thing your husband has a great sense of humor. He would have to, in order to put up with your ego ... "rather than take the blame" ... talk about being too self-absorbed. where were your kids while you were blogging about alcohol?"

I've had my share of mean comments, and truthfully this didn't really bother me. (some have) It did, however, interest me. Where do these people come from?

It's clear anonymous doesn't read my blog. If he/she did, they would know that really nights of drinking with friends are quite finely balanced by nights of putting my kids to bed, watching tv with them, snuggling, doing homework, making lunches, and all of the other stuff that comes with being a parent.  And as I've said before, I like a balance. I can't speak for everyone, since we are all different, but I can certainly say that in my life, and in the life of my husband, having a life outside of the daily grind of getting up, getting the kids up, working full time, coming home, getting the kids to bed and then eventually rolling into bed ourselves in NOT a bad thing.

It is, in fact, a good thing. Having a sense of humour about all of this? Not just good. But necessary. I'm the first person to tell Mike to call up his friends, go for a drink, laugh about life, and if he needs to, vent about the joys of having to "put up with my ego." If he sends me a funny text when he's out I laugh. Or I'm asleep.

Let's be honest here. Was I really blaming Julie Powell for the fact that I was drinking? No. Does an author truly have the power to make me drink a handful of gimlets? Well, okay. She did inspire me to try a different drink. Whatever. It is, in fact, pretty yummy. But, I wasn't seriously blaming her for *making* me have a drink. That's silly. Though, many people would claim that she inspires them to try French cooking, rediscover a passion, break out of a rut or maybe even blog. So. Cheers to her for doing that. And, if I had a drink because of her - I'll raise my glass. I had a great time.

And, when I came home to my kids and my husband I was probably a better person for it.

In my mind, it's more dangerous to be miserable, feel home bound and forbidden to go out that sucks the life out a marriage. I married young, and I have never, for a second, felt that I wasn't allowed to have my own friends, my own conversations or my own interests. For some couples that works. And more power to them. But for me it doesn't. I love my husband and my kids. I cannot wait to spend the week in Florida with them, just the four of us, being a family. And that joy comes from the fact that at the end of the day, if I want to meet a friend for coffee, enjoy a few drinks, or catch a movie I have the liberty to do so. And for the record, so does Mike. What matters to me is that I know my kids are taken care of, that I still spend time with them and that we are all enjoying our lives.

In answer to your question, anonymous. Where were my kids? Obviously, they were with my husband. Well taken care of. If the shoe was on the other foot, and if he was out drinking with his friends and sending me some funny texts, would I be pissed off? Of course not. I'd be at home, snuggled with my kids (or, more likely, trying to keep up with them while they chase each other around the house - or reading them stories or getting in some quality baking time) knowing that in a few hours Mike would be home, and we'd wake up and start our regular life all over again.

Yes, this blog is the story of my life. And it shows the good and the bad. We've been through a lot, my family and I. And even though I know there will be many mistakes as I grow up along with my kids and my husband, what I share here isn't just the good stuff. It's not just the funny endearing stories, or my comments on how I am the world's best mom. I've never claimed that nor will I. For now I'm content being who I am. Self absorbed and egotistical as the case may be.

As a Julie Powell fan - do I attempt Boeuf Bouginon or the Gimlet?

So I posted yesterday my love for Julie Powell. Brace yourselves because I have a feeling you will hear a lot about her in the next little while. Classic me. I can't let stuff go.
And, I've been reading her Julie/Julia Project blog.
And maybe also obsessively reading her other blog - What Could Happen.
And I've noticed something alarming in the comments. Every. Single. Julie Powell fan seems to be inspired by her to cook Boeuf Bouginon.  It's a pretty big part of the movie (and book).It looks delicious. But still.
I debated that idea for like a minute. Sent a quick e-mail to my husband with the idea to try this recipe. And then remembered one small thing. I'm not really all that interested in cooking. I'm so much more of the Rachael Ray school of cooking (30 minute meals with no measuring) than I am the Julia Child School of Cooking. Honestly.
So I did the next best thing.
I decided to try the drink that Julie always talks about - the gimlet.
So, in the interest of full disclosure here, every time that she mentioned a gimlet I thought it was a little like saying a  mickey, you know - not a specific drink per say but a size of drink or a fancy name. Like I'd say "I'm going for cocktails".So I assumed saying "I had a gimlet" was akin to "I had a drink." Nope. Wrong.
I looked it up.
A gimlet is actually a very specific drink. Much like saying I'm drinking a martini.
And, at this point I have to say that technically, yes, this is still a mommy blog. And, no, I don't really drink around my kids except to have a glass of wine or champagne or something.
Anyhow.
As it turns out, I may go for drinks a little too often becuase there is a pub, appropriately named "The Pub" where when I walk in they actually know exactly what I'm going to order for a drink, and bring it over to me fairly quickly. Which is a good thing. (Vodka gingerale since you asked). So last night when I bumped into a friend and we decided to go for a quick drink (which was not actually quick, and was not just one friend ... but whatever), I mentioned that I'm trying something new - the gimlet. Which I was pronouncing "Jimlet" which is incorrect.
So, I asked the bartender, a lovely old man who has seen pretty much everything, and he told me how to say it, and then reluctantly made it for me while explaining it's an old-fashioned drink. And, was that gimlet ever pretty. It was also yummy. Though it could have been improved upon, I think, with real lime juice. Minor detail.
It was pretty good though. A little too good. And I probably should have found out the alcohol content of the beverage before ordering a second (and maybe a third) while having a long-drawn out conversation with friends about life. And Julie. And gimlets. Meanwhile I was texting my husband explaining why I was missing trains due to gimlets. And rather than taking any of the blame I placed sole responsiblity on the author of a book and blog who talks a little too much about a certain drink.
And, this is where I mention that my husband has a good sense of humour because he found the whole thing somewhat hilarious - and may have been thinking that I better drink lots of gimlets now becase I most certainly cannot go on my NY road trip and sit in bars drinking gimlets alone while on my author-finding quest.

And here's the recipe

Gimlet
Impress you friends with this Martini alternative
2 oz. Gin
1/2 oz. Lime Juice
Combine in a shaker with ice.
Shake vigorously and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Serve with a lime squeeze.