Ding Dong Is My Youth Gone?

41 and Counting

My most evil birthday card - inside it read: Ding Dong your Youth is gone.
So cruel Nancybe. . but remember, I will always be younger than you!

A year ago, I feasted and feted in France. For 41, Brent and Robin (two fellow French travelers) came east to pass the weekend with me. We ventured forth taking in historic Vanderbilt properties in Dutchess County, dining at Gigi's in Rhinebeck (a favorite of mine) and a bit of theatre, Boeing Boeing! It was a wonderful weekend not diminished by the fact I lost my voice for 3 days before my pals arrived. There is some nasty bug circulating. Also during the visit/birthday soiree, I introduced Bird (Robin's nickname) to the delight of a Red Velvet cupcake. Red Velvet cake was a southern delicacy Robin just did not understand, until now ("oh it's the frosting!"):

Taking on NYC and the MTA and Winning

Another highlight of recent months--A few months ago, I transferred from the E subway line at 51st and Lex onto my usual train, the #6. This is a very busy subway stop with lots of commuters coming in from Queens and travelers coming and going to JFK. It's often a tight squeeze on the platform as there is an elevator and two escalators. And to my shock, I saw that MTA in their infinite wisdom (NOT!) decided the platform also needed a magazine kiosk! And they started to build it, see the photo below:
I was astonished. Its a miracle not more people fall from the platform onto the subway tracks. I live in constant apprehension of it, particularly at this stop. There was less than 6 feet on each side of this kiosk for hundreds of passengers to squeeze by. Not to mention there is a damn Barnes and Noble upstairs, why a magazine kiosk here?! I wrote my City Council member about my concerns via email. A female staff member actually called me back! We exchanged a few emails, I sent them the photos and on Oct 2nd when I escorted Robin to the E line for her trip to JFK, the kiosk was gone! Victory! I won against the MTA, wow!

Summertime pursuits

I've noted a trend in my blog. . I seem to be chronicling more adventures when I leave New York and this blog is entitled RJ's adventures in New York . . . so here are some shots of a recent adventure in NYC with my friends Chen and Timeah!

The Hudson Hotel on 8th and 58th has a faux billiard lounge on its 2nd floor, I've taken many a visitor there to swill the cocktails and finally, with Chen and Timeah, I played billiards. [Note: Timeah does not actually spell his name like that, he's not that pretentious. .he's Tim. Chen and I call him Timeah! after the character in the tv show South Park.]

The Hudson Hotel - Library

L to R: Chen and Tim(eah!)

Chen provides fuel for the game to RJ

Sunburning in North Carolina

Longtime friend Kivi has asked almost every year since I moved back east to join them for a family vacation to Ocracoke, North Carolina, an island in the Cape Hatteras National Seashore , reportedly where Blackbeard the Pirate was finally defeated. Read about the rake here: click

We travel to Ocracoke, R to L: Ella, Ava, Jia and me.

I journeyed down to join them and another pal, Kathy and her daughter Ella for eight days of sun and surf. Ocracoke Island has recently been voted as one of the top beaches in America. It's no wonder, a calm, laid back island that takes hours to get to and then a ferry ride. And for the San Francisco-Manhattanite snob I am, it had a wonderful java stop, bookstore and Zillies, a boutique grocery store. When you opened the refrigerator of our rental home, it contained about 3 types of yogurt, and when I found Zillies carried my Greek yogurt with honey we then had 4 types! So yogurt and the two cases of wine we brought provided great sustenance (Kivi as a freelance writer/trainer has a great arrangement with a local wine merchant where she helps them with PR and they comp her wine . .great wine by the way!). Even though I wore SPF70 sunscreen, being in a new swimsuit, i didn't cover all the exposed areas and walked away with a sunburn on my chest on day 1. Thereafter i was very covered in sunscreen and under umbrellas, though in the end, everyone commented I spent the most time in the water. I hadn't been to the ocean in nearly ten years, I was a bit nervous at first but soon felt secure and did float float float.

Note the sunburn . . .
I wondered if I'd really post this photo but hey..you all know what I look like


When not floating in the surf, I was up to my usual. . .

Film Boycotts, do they work?

After returning from NC, Kivi and Edgar saw the film Tropic Thunder. Part of Kivi's work entails providing support, training and advice to nonprofit organizations on their outreach methods. She wondered, via a column, if the Special Olympics boycott of Tropic Thunder was a good move, was it the most effective way to call attention to an issue? She questioned the tactic not the issue (i.e. use of the word "retard" in the film which is offensive to her and me and I think when you see the film--to writer/director Ben Stiller). But her point was lost on some of the readers of her column, so she asked me to contribute as a guest columnist. My brother Terry is physically and mentally disabled and has a wall of Special Olympic medals. Read Kivi and my takes on the movie--click here for Kivi and here for my thoughts. And for Ben Stiller's explanation--click here

Misc.

Rebecca Jamison as heroine?

Okay another fun Google alert on my name lead me to a online novel entitled Murder in Trinity's Land End. .wherein the heroine is described as follows:
". . She smiled and he noticed how modestly beautiful she was for the first time. It was the kind of natural beauty that came without a hint of manufactured makeup or glamor. [.. .] He couldn’t stop looking at her and thinking Rebecca Jamison could have been the toast of the town anywhere but here she was showing unselfishness and human kindness to those who could really use it. If there was such a thing as altruism in its purest sense, he had found it for a second time in the form of this woman with a sense of purpose."" [emphasis added]

Okay let's be real, that is NOT me but it was fun to read and pretend. I communicated with the author and plan to check back to read about Rebecca--her altruism caring for orphans, and of course the murder mystery. Rebecca better remain pretty and nice. . well not sooo nice. But pretty like in this photo where I had my one and only jello shot (somehow I missed this craze in college) in New Orleans dressed as one of Santa's North Pole HazMat crew--okay only a few people got the costume!

Irrational Love of Music


The troupe at the N.O. Saturn Bar--L to R: John C, Arlene,Me, Nakari, Matt and Timonie

On the right hand side of this blog are links to some of my favorite things and i just have to take a moment and rave about the New Orleans Jazz Vipers. I first found them with my friends Timonie, John, Arlene, Matthew and Nakari when we all went to New Orleans for Halloween in 2002 was it? We stepped outside the French Quarter and found this wondeful little place, The Spotted Cat, and this band. I went back in March 2004 for work-related conference and dragged a whole entourage to the place (some women were in high heels and didn't appreciate the 1 mile walk. .hey in NYC, 1 mile is heels is nothing!) When we arrived the band was on a break, the ladies in heels were annoyed with me and left. The "boys" stayed and became fans, greatly applauding my choice. After Katrina the band returned to the Spotted Cat and released a 3rd cd with the title song, I Hope You Are Coming Back to New Orleans--love it! Click on the links to see and listen to their traditional swing jazz sound. They also play in the French Quarter too. I highly recommend taking in their show should you find yourself in New Orleans.

To Listen live from their website click here
OR watch here:

You Tube video of I Hope You're Coming to New Orleans

Long or Short

So how self-involved can one individual be, we are about to find out.

Every 3 years or so I see someone with a particular haircut and I think I should try it. So I trot to the salon and get my hair done, I say something akin to "blunt cut, page boy, bob" you get the idea? Now for the last 3 years my erstwhile friend Jaysa has run interference with my stylist Cristal. Jaysa firmly believes my hair looks better long (a la the photo to the right on this blog). But Jaysa moved and I saw the cut on someone somewhere and told Cristal to "do it!" Its going to be hot, I have a lot of out doors work this summer, get it off my neck! She did exactly as I asked, when I turned to see my reflection, it was the cut but my face. .well I instantly said "Cristal you did exactly what I wanted, I just have to remember I hate this cut on myself, I do this every 3-4 years!"

So I hated it for a week, then I went to the office. The response was instantly positive and two people wanted Cristal's number. I regarded it again, it's growing on me. But is it better long or short? This is where you all can help me out by voting in the poll below, that's right a poll!

Short like here or long like the blog photo?

Wiles girls in Boston

My sister Toni and her family visited Boston this last weekend. I made a joint visit with them and my friend David who lives in Maine. We walked all about the Copley Square area. It turned out to be a good idea as I'd used a hotel in that area in my forthcoming novel and I had a significant detail all wrong! I also got to catch up with a longtime/old SF pal, Julia Wolfe. I have other friends in Boston whom I didn't have a chance to contact my apologies but it was a last minute/quick trip, one I shall make again I am sure.

An interesting moment in Boston was after I parted from my family, I walked along Boyleston street back to my hotel. I was approached by two women with long dull black hair in black salon smocks. They asked, "would you be interested in having your hair done?" My eyed widened, a hand went up to my newly minted and heralded doo and I shrieked, "I just had it done. . .in Manhattan!" They seemed surprised. twits.

My neices Mikayla and Emily and Dad Michael with Catie Copley, the former seeing-eye dog of the Copley Plaza Hotel.

Julia enjoys a 3-olive dry martini

Quotations

My friend Mimi has been one of those (and there are several of you) who's been a tireless enthusiast for my ambitions be they citing a recalcitrant tank owner for polluting sacred ceremonial springs or my writing ambitions. Recently she's started sending me various quotes:

"It cannot be emphasized too strongly that balanced, well-adjusted, stable and secure people do not, on the whole,make good writers, including good journalists."
Paul Johnson, The Quotable Paul Johnson 401 (1994).

...um what am I supposed to do with that I asked her? Are you saying you sanction my insanity or saying that I'll always suck because I'm not insane enough?

She then sent this one, perhaps a bit more encouraging?
"The writing process is always impeded by obstacles which have to be negotiated. There's always some difficulty to be surmounted. Nobody has ever found that writing comes easy,that it 'flowed' from the pen. Writing is always difficult, and the more difficult it is, the better it turns out in the end."
Alexei Tolstoy, "Advice to the Young Writer" (1939)

I liked that one better, it's resonant. Though the words seem to come from a place behind or above me, getting them down and committing to sitting alone in front of a keyboard or my butcher paper-lined apartment walls when its lovely outside and you've just found a salon that gives $25 manicure/pedicures all week long! Well the little things get in the way. But in hindsight I think with the first quote, Mimi wants me to be crazier!

Judging Who's Pretty

Several years ago, I was sitting in a meeting with about thirty people. During a lull in the meeting a co-worker turned to me and said, “Rebecca were you in People magazine recently? A letter or something?” I opened my eyes wide, why yes a note I had written to the Editor of People magazine had been printed.
Flashback about a month earlier, I was at a doctor appointment and picked up the atrocious magazine. It was their annual edition 50 Most Beautiful People. I thumbed through it and got angry. I was 33 at the time. Why was I angry? The article gave me numerous reasons and a lot to say about what I saw in that magazine and I wanted to say something to them about it. I was certain if I had a good “subject” line for my email to the editor, I’d get a hearing--The subject line I used in my email was as follows:

Subject: You Mean the 50 Most Beautiful White People under 30.

I then went on a short diatribe about their selections and named several people over 30, 40, 50 and 60 of a wide cultural/ethic spectrum who were current newsmakers and NOT in their pages. What was really on those pages were newbies to Hollywood who few people knew or cared about except their SuperAgents. It was ageist and racist. They printed my rant and then replied that it was a panel who chose the people, not an individual—I then asked, well who’s on your panel, white 25 year olds? Okay I had a bone and still carry it. Try being a single woman in New York City after Sex and the City. It’s a fun show on several levels but that show was really a gay man’s (Darren Starr) perspective of his friends (gay men) dating life. I have enough gay male friends to recognize it instantly. And I don’t know how many times I’ve been asked which one of the characters I am? Most men hope you’re Samantha. Hey I love Kim Catrall's portrayal but come on! Is that sleaze or not?

I much prefer this list, “Hotties Over 50”—it starts out with Mary McDonnell, has Patrick Stewart, Gabriel Byrne. . This is the kind of list I was meaning when I wrote those stupid people at People all those years ago.

A Special Machine

A Special Machine

Okay, so the requests were to post more often. I warned this might result in me writing about the more mundane aspects of life. So here it goes. At certain stages in our aging, a doctor looks at you and says, you need to have this test—for girls after puberty it’s the foot in stirrups dreaded GYN visit, for men of a certain age, it the “cough and turn your head” exam and at 40 it’s the base mammogram experience. Now I’d had one of these before, like 6-7 years ago. I was drinking too much caffeine and it had deleterious side effects. I simply switched to decaf. I remember the test, it didn’t feel good but it was nothing that would cause me to run to my bedroom crying rivers of tears and clutching at my chest vowing never to come out again! . . .well, that is until I had my mammogram experience in New York City! If they say the Left Coast is too soft and the Right Coast is too tough, based solely on my mammogram experiences, I must now agree.

Visit 1. I leave work mid-afternoon, travel uptown to NY Presbyterian Hospital’s Female Imaging Center. I fill out paperwork and wait. Eventually I am escorted by a lovely blonde, 50ish eastern European woman into a room to take off my sweater, blouse and terribly expensive but essential brassiere. (It’s expensive because of the engineering required.) I wait. Eventually I am escorted into the machine room, and with dignity stand there in my slacks-topless. The woman, I don’t know her name, Helga works for this story, looks at the machine and then turned a steady but politely confused gaze at my chest. She turned again to the machine and back to my chest. This happened at least 3 times.

With a strong accent she begins. “Uh, I couldn’t tell, before, your clothes, they disguised or I couldn’t see or tell.—“ I’m wondering what? She continues in a halting fashion. “You see, this machine, I mean, you are a BIG girl!” I flush crimson. “This machine is for medium to small breasts, it won’t work, you need a special machine—“ What was she saying!? I'd had one before and I was the same size then or was I? My weight fluctuates between this and that. . maybe I was that then .. ?

I swallow the heat of embarrassment and the lump in my throat, I croak. “You mean I came all the way up here, took off my bra and I’m too big for the machine?!” She nodded, apologized then said their other machine might’ve been able to “handle” me but it was broken.

Listen, I come from a bosomy line of women but really, I’m too big for the mammogram machine? I see women way bigger than myself everywhere, where do women like us go?! Helga escorts me back to reception, the two women at the counter look at us perplexed. I retort as I waive a hand across my chest. “I guess I have too much going on here, I need the ‘special machine’.”

Visit 2. A month later, I am at a Cornell-Weill location on 63^rd and York. Before I even begin undressing, I open my cardigan and ask the technician, “Listen the other place said I was too big, I’m a D cup, is this gonna be a problem cuz I aint’ taking off all my clothes for nothing again.” She laughed and said it must’ve been an old machine. There would be no problem. LIAR!

I did as before, entering a little room for disrobing, left purse, upper body clothes, and then went into a shiny, clean room with 2 technicians. Everything looked brand spankin’ new. One technician stood by the machine and the other began exerting torture against my body unlike I’ve ever read or heard about! Torquemada hell!

Every woman knows they try to take a thing shaped somewhat like a ball attached to our chests and try to make it flat like a Frisbee between two plates of astoundingly cold metal or plastic. I knew that was coming but—suddenly, hey why are you tugging on it?! Now, a backstory.

When I was very young, not even 11, I saw a woman in my family who’d had 3 kids. She was built like I am now but she lived through the “burn your bra” era and had the kids, so things had a southern direction—very southern like the topless women in National Geographic we all stared at when we were kids. I did not want to look like that! I asked my Mom how I could ensure that didn’t happen. I got advice to always wear my bra and do pushups; don’t breastfeed too I think was in there. I followed this advice. I wore my bra ALL THE TIME even to bed until a group of girls in college confronted me, a staged intervention basically, and made me swear not to wear it to bed anymore, I could give myself breast cancer they all said. I wonder if that was at all true? OK, no.

So here I am 40 and things have matured in that arena as I’d hoped as a twit of 11. Then I get to the NYC mammogram center where smashing my flesh isn’t enough, the woman technician starts tugging and pulling on it to make it LONGER flatter?! Nooooooooooo!!!!!!! One done, then the 2nd and oh. . wait, we need to redo the first one! I teared up, 'oh okay' and trudged back to the machine.

So it was a torturous experience basically, one every woman of a certain age knows. I've long contended that if men menstruated there'd be a device invented to deal with it on Day 1, some sort of vacuum device. If man rather than turning their head and coughing, had to have a vital organ smashed between plates. .well you get my logic. The Horror! And this has to happen what annually?! At least I have a decade to wait until I get to have the ultimate experience that Dave Barry chronicled, the colonoscopy (I try to smile).

Link to Dave Barry's story:

http://www.miamiherald.com/418/story/427603.html

Googling Myself?

Googling ^TM? Myself

So recently, I was told “I googled you”. And I thought, well I’ve googled myself, I know what you found. When googling my name you generally get information on three women, (1) myself (EPA junk and Grayson stuff); (2) genealogy info on a woman in the 1870s; and, (3) Rebecca Jemison who in 2003 won the MegaMillions lotto for $162m. I received a great deal of email when the 3^rd RJ won all that money, it was soon after I moved to NY—I think people thought some jig was up! Alas the 3^rd RJ is a lovely and now über-rich tall, African American woman. Oh and her name is spelled Jemison not Jamison but it still comes up on Google. I do wonder though, if one RJ has already won a lotto does that decrease my 1 in 10,000,000 chances?

So I shared my ‘googling’ myself with a friend. She thought it odd. And then I informed her I even have a Google alert on my own name. She thought that odder still, perhaps a tad egotistical. Well hey, I’ve been misquoted and copyright infringement on my work was nearly a problem until I nipped it in the bud. So the Google alerts help keep track of that kind of stuff—and it has given me a potential idea for my next major writing endeavor after I submit the novel later this summer.

So Google yourself and see what comes up.

Atlanta Showtime!

L to R: Unknown individual? Mimi festive with St Patty Clovers and Matthew

I was in Atlanta for a work event a little bit back. It happened to be the day AFTER the tornado. People milled about all startled at the glass on the street. No one was hurt and I understand there was minimal damage (glass, roofing). I was asked what I thought. I furrowed my brow and said, “Listen, I’m from Kansas, tornados fall from the sky all the time, duck and cover! This is nothing, remember Greenburg, Kansas—well yeah you have to remember it cuz its now gone!”

One night I took my entourage (that would be Matt and Mimi) to a lovely dinner in Lafayette, GA at a former co-worker’s home, the crazy Ben Singh! Ben and his wife, Miriam hosted us with flair! Their ‘show’ dining room where they seldom eat is the size of my crackerbox NYC apartment but I sadly digress. Matthew took the photos below of myself and Mimi in the Atlanta underground en route to the dinner. Matthew is Dr. Small, hydro-geologist extraordinaire and musical savant. He used to carry his bass on his back to the San Francisco office before gigs. It was always an odd and amusing sight. Anyway, Matt decided to snap some photos of the interesting rock faces of the Atlanta underground. The tunnels were blasted and then dug out and not refaced, so you can observe the actual geology under Atlanta.

L to R: Mimi and Moi

After taking the photo of me and Mimi, a security officer came to Matt and said “If you take one more photo I’ll have to confiscate your camera.” Bulging eyes, nervous smiles. Serious guy, we’re scientist types just interested in the rock! He was actually quite gracious toward Matt in the end but if we’d continued our geologic-photo interest we woulda needed a permit! Post- 9/11.

Inspecting Funeral Homes

Well, I had hoped to have a juicy story here for everyone but it went blandly like this.

Me: Where do you dispose of the bodily fluids, the embalming waste?

Funeral Home Director: In the Bloodbox. You want some tea?

Me: how long you been doing that? No thank you (on the tea).

FHD: Since I was told to and dug up my system, here's the letter certifying everything. Seriously it’s Earl Grey you sure you don’t want some?

Okay that was that. No findings. He’d done what he was directed to do! Miracle! He wasn’t polluting the drinking water of Long Island with formaldehyde! This wasn’t like my 2006 inspections where they had to move bodies behind curtains so I could inspect rooms where I saw trickles of blood on the floor. Ewwwwwwww! And I don't like Earl Grey tea, Lady Grey okay or Bengal Spice. Has anyone else noticed no more Bengal Spice in the stores? what's up with that?

Upcoming: Chen drags me to see Gypsy. How many times can I take in one musical--Tyne Daly, Bette Midler, Angela Lansbury (okay that was on cd). I didn't see Bernadette Peters do it on Broadway in 2004, cuz Bernadette Peters as Mama Rose, that just didn't seem right.

Ahh Spring

5 Years on the Right Coast?

Has Spring finally sprung? For reasons not entirely fathomable by me, yes I write this blog as its called, so I shan't claim too much humbleness but I am astounded at the number of comments asking for 'more more more'. And after over two hundred reads of my last posting, okay okay, uncle! I must admit though, I don't post more because, well my life is actually quite dull, I just condense it and write it well. If I write more you'll all see just how dull it is. But you asked. So what's the latest?

Well as of April 1, I've been on the Atlantic/Right coast (versus Left as we referred to SF-land of leftist malcontents such as myself) for 5 years. That's right, cinco, cinq, cinque, пять, tano--some Russian and Swahili in there. Read on below for more thoughts on five years in a tiny NYC apartment versus the 3 bedroom/2 bath SF place (that cost less than my studio) that I left behind . . oh no we can't talk about that--the pain! Do I have a lawyer, where's he judge? Ha ha . .okay I can almost laugh about that but not quite. Give me another five years.

Le Novel-RJ Ends Procrastination

View outside the front door of the condo

I started a novel in 2003 because I was new to New York City, it was damn hot, I didn't know but 2 people, didn't have cable, couldn't find a good book to read and don't frequent the clubs. So what else to do? I made up a story about people I saw on the street and combined it with an odd dream. I worked on it a great deal in 2003 and 2004 then set it aside to write the Grayson Hall book. August 2006= Hall book publication. Then 1 year recovery period or soaking it in. I had done it. And frankly, I have to admit, by 40 I've done a lot of things I dreamed of doing as a young teenager--I've visited Europe, Australia, Mexico, Caribbean, been to all but 3 US States (Vermont, North Dakota and Alaska await me!), moved to New York City (a dream since I was 11 that I kinda forgot in San Francisco), actually published a book, saw on stage Patrick Stewart (Macbeth), Vanessa Redgrave (3 times), Giulia Pagano (see last post), Phil Bosco and Ciarin Hinds (is there a strong UK bend here?). Is Giulia the lone American in my theatrical pantheon? Outstanding are Maggie Smith (Okay met her at a party but still not on stage) and Geraldine McEwan. Note that 3 of 4 actress above played, to critical acclaim, in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie on stage, film and tv. Hmm interesting tidbit. I am legend for those. Well not legend but a fun annoyance maybe?

Post-40 Goals?

Some of you have asked what now? My new goals are-- (1) finish the damn novel, (2) lose 35 lbs and (3) buy my own apartment. Now should I refer to my own book as "damn?" Hmm? I have to say since setting it aside, it feels a chore to work on it and I have to go away from my apartment, my stuff and internet access to get it done. But each time I actually focus on it, I fall inlove with it again and am amazed that I wrote it. Then I return home and two days later I have stomach aches for how juvenile it is and uninteresting, ill conceived tripe! Okay I've read and bought worse things but is that really my benchmark?

But back to the pictures and Le Novel, my latest writing retreat returned me to Niagara on the Lake, Canada. My friends Bobbi and Jay once again lent me their lovely condo. NOTL as we use for short hand is the home of the Shaw Festival. I didn't see any theatre this time out, didn't watch the DVDs at the condo (even though ironically the entire mini-series Masada was on the shelf!) or continue pressing on with the book I've been reading--Bernard Lewis' The Middle East a Brief History of the Last 2000 Years. Might I say, that book is kicking my a**. Sunni/Shi'ite , Persian/Arab/Bedouin...I think I understand the differences and then Lewis throws in something where all the lines are blurred, ugh but I do try. It's just like France, Germany, England but with different names. .wait who rules England? Oh a Germanic family? Didn't it used to be French . .oh yeah, right 1000 years ago. When did the English rule themselves, maybe the Tudors?

View behind the condo

Rather I remain focused on my goal and accomplished a great deal, wrote the conclusion of the story, I had been knocking around the same conclusion for years but rethinking it and then coming back to it again--so that is done. Fact checking, fleshing out of the closing 3 chapters needs to be done but I think I will meet the June deadline without too much heartburn, nerves sure but no stomach acid.

As to the other 2 goals, I think they are the harder two. My weight has been a problem since I was 23 or so, of course I worried about it at 13, how horrible. And buying an apartment in NYC--they want downpayments that would equal a house in a lot of the country. We'll see but I have my eye on the prize(s).

RJ almost causes an International Incident

Crossing into Canada was not as smooth as usual, folks be forewarned. Do not and I repeat, do NOT look down and read a newspaper if your a passenger in the car! Egads that got my Canadian Border agent mad. I could counter she was mostly staring at a computer, not talking to us or asking question, but in the end I did not give her 100% of my attention or in her mind--unquestioned respect so she delayed us, searched our car, found my "Big Sexy Hair" care products (yes it seriously is a brand of haircare products). That was it--No contraband. The Border Agent walked away mad about being a Border agent and I went across the border to a hot stone massage. I tried to keep it in perspective. But this is my warning to all those crossing the border, don't read, listen to an iPod or anything else whilst crossing. You might met up with her!

Answering a few Questions

A few questions routinely come to me after a blog update, so I'll answer 'em right here:

1. What's next? A bit more on this that I didn't cover above. While in France last September, my friend Gail asked that question. Most assumed (including myself) that I moved to New York to write the book. That's done so now what? I replied, "Gail I have no idea. If you'd asked me 19 years ago if I thought I'd be sitting in France with you, well my answer would've been 'no'." If you'd asked me 10 years ago if I would relocate from San Francisco, I would've said "no way". But Here I am 5 years in New York as of April 1, 2008. Returning to SF has been suggested (with potential jobs) more than once but I'm not quite ready to return. I don't expect I'll stay here for the rest of my days but who knows? I surely don't.

2. I love your hair color, did you change it? Hey, my hair has been the same color for years. . okay I color it to cover the gray (70% above my brow, hardly any elsewhere-go figure) But it's the same color folks seriously!

3. What about dating/your lovelife? Oh please, I'm not going to write about here. If you seriously want to know, call, write or better yet visit and see for yourself. Okay, well honestly, there ain't much on that front right now.

What you'll see in future updates?

• RJ inspects funeral homes on Long Island (oh yeah, you wanna hear about it)
• RJ vacations (with children) on Ocracoke Island, North Carolina
• RJ commits to weight training (why? cuz my doctor said so)
  

In Conclusion: Will Ferrell and the Landlord

And now cuz I like to conclude with silly stuff--a video that makes me laugh each time I see it. I have to admit I really like Will Ferrell, I think Elf is a fun, sweet movie. Him sitting on Bob Newhart's elfin lap is enough to put me in stitches for 5 mins. Then his sweet turn as the IRS agent who brings his ladylove "flour" in Stranger than Fiction was touching .

Some of his skits are priceless. This is so funny and wrong .. .but I can't help but share. Will Ferrell's landlord Pearl demands the rent!

Re-start 2008 please!

On the Mend: Helen and TerryHelen and RJ in Georgetown, DC-September 2007

Above is a photo of Helen and me at her daughter Charlene's 60th birthday celebration in Georgetown, D.C. As many of my friends know Helen is my 2nd Mom and has been ill since shortly after this photo was taken. However, contrary to rumors, her illness wasn't due to her taking a sip of my tequila shot at this party. She is doing better and I thank everyone for their kinds words and prayers for Helen. When in France I said a little prayer myself in Vezelay near some Mary Magdalene relics. Helen is a staunch Protestant and didn't know if she liked me praying in a Catholic church. I countered, "hey Helen it got me into a church and praying, I don't think we should be picky about it." She laughed and said I was right on that score.

And on another 'on the mend note' I just learned today that my brother will finally be going home after nearly two months in the hospital and a rehab facility (he was taking a 5-week antibiotic treatment). He's very excited to go home. He hasn't spoken to his girlfriend Alvadene in all that time and normally they spend hours on the phone each night, after spending all day together at the Depot Center. Again, thanks to everyone who asked after him and sent prayers his way. My entire family is most appreciative.

But after the celebratory mood from ushering in my 40th year (see previous post) 2008 started off roughly. There was Terry's illness, Helen's hospitalization, then in early January a dear friend passed away unexpectedly, my insurance decided to not cover some of my doctors, bla bla bla. It was not an auspicious start. So as February approached, I put together a plan. . . a serious 3-part plan involving a lot of art to get 2008 back on a more positive track.

#1 Carribean Getaway: This originated as a business trip (really yes!) to St Croix in the US Virgin Islands. I decided to extend it a bit, as it would be my first visit to the Caribbean. Somehow years ago because you could get direct flights from JFK to San Juan, Puerto Rico then the VI, EPA's New York office handles Puerto Rico and the VI instead of the Atlanta office. SWEET! So 2 days of work and then I took an extra day just for myself, had a massage on the beach! and dined at the lovely Cafe Christine in Christiansted run by a woman who lives there for only 4 months out of the year and then returns to her native France. Wonderful meals, balmy lovely weather not much night life though. I returned with a red nose and mosquito bites that as of Feb 18th were just starting to fade.

View outside my cottage front door: Chenay Bay Resort, Christiansted, St Croix, VI

#2 Writing Retreat & Theatre! in North Carolina Over President's Day weekend I arranged to take a writing retreat as the deadline for my 2nd book quickly approaches. I asked to utilize my friends Kivi and Edgar's in-law cottage or as they called it The Little House. It's quiet, homey, there is limited internet access, e.g. limited distractions for when I am weak and lacking discipline. So it went something like this, "Hey can I invite myself down, take you out to dinner and then disappear for several hours a day? Oh and can you pick me up at the airport?" Thankfully the reply was Yes! So I was off to North Carolina for a 3-day writing extravaganza! And then as chance would have it (courtesy of Google News alerts, folks should try it!), coinciding with this little sojourn in Lexington, I finally, after 20+ years grasped an opportunity to take in a stage performance by a favorite actor, Giulia Pagano-imdb link. Theatre links: off-b'way and Broadway

Giulia Pagano and RJ at the Triad Theatre, Greensboro, NC

Ms Pagano was quite kind to me during my awkward college years. We exchanged a few letters two decades ago and the few times I tread the boards she provided some advice ("if you don't love it enough to starve, forget it" I obviously didn't fit into that profile).

I always hoped one day to see her on stage and would look online every once in a while as the years passed. I always seemed to just miss a performance. Drats! But as luck (2008 was already turning around after the VI trip), she was appearing at the Triad Stage in Greensboro, NC in a G.B. Shaw play Mrs. Warren's Profession (I wrote about Shaw for my college Senior thesis--politics and prose, socialism, capitalism and all that jazz). Greensboro is a short drive from Kivi and Edgar's. Giulia and I arranged to meet briefly after the performance. Those with whom I went to college (and wow there are a few of you out there reading this?!) will remember this actress from the soap we all watched in the lobby of Dotzour Hall, As the World Turns, she was none other than the character Marsha Talbot. Upon meeting, she was quite kind, very gracious and might I add, awfully brave. In addition to theatre, she mentioned that she enjoyed working with a chain saw in the woods around her home! It's interesting I left the country and don't want to see another combine or tractor again. This gal leaves the city and loves chain saws! The play was very good in a new theatre with a very tight ensemble cast, great costuming, lighting and staging. Giulia had an amazing authentic Cockney accent, was wonderfully engaging as Kitty Warren and effective in spelling out her limited life choices. Giulia's husband, Rand Bridges was also in the play as Sir George Croft, having fun instilling great humor into the typical-Shaw capitalist.

#3 That Bodacious Bald Man My friend Claudia and I purchased tickets to see Patrick Stewart perform in "that Scottish play". Another exciting actor with a broad classical career (far beyond Star Trek). This is an exciting ticket to hold, not as exciting as Mrs. Warren's Profession of course but thrilling nonetheless. Link to info on that Scottish play

So that, thus far, is my 3-part plan to re-ignite this year and work toward a positive journey during year 40! Other challenges will arrive I'm sure but I'm feeling better about 2008 already.

RJ and Children

To my mother's lament, I announced various things in my teen years. 1st--I was going to live at least 1,000 miles away from Russell, Kansas. 2nd--I wasn't likely to have children. I only reconsidered that once and that was a brief reconsideration! So I do enjoy my nieces and nephews (there are 3 of each) and my friends children. Kivi and Edgar have 2 daughters, Ava and Jia whom I spent this last weekend with. Ava for some reason adores me (hey I am not complaining just amazed). There is nothing better than arriving at my sister's house or Kivi's and having a small person run toward me with open arms screaming my name. It's not that my ego is small (obviously) but a boost such as that is lovely any time.

Ava Rey, RJ and Jianna

My friends in Brooklyn, Michael and Melissa (see past posts) have twins whom I also hope to also instill with this adoration. Of course my first step is their official debut here in my blog:

Quentin and Fiona

And before anyone asks, NO! I had nothing to do with suggesting little Q's name. It's purely coincidental.

Towering Influence

I have been asked to post the poem below so others could see it, I hesitated a bit (my poetry is not a strong point) but want to honor the request. This was shared at Arlene Luther's funeral in January. Arlene worked for the Navajo Nation EPA; she was born into the Towering House People Clan for the Red Running into the Water People Clan.

Arlene aka Carmelita[1]

She should’ve come with a warning label

Not for the faint of heart

Or the obscure

Blinded by greed, grandeur or romance for her land

Walk on solid ground

With a sure step

But do not linger with hope.

She had a grand smile and laugh

That could wash away the anger of a passionate exchange.

Or the confusion of language

When I could not communicate

separated by culture, age, geography

Or My own ignorance.

The label also said

Be forewarned You will learn

Not in the moment but in reflection

And that lesson is here with me now

And tomorrow.

Rebecca Jamison,
January 9, 2008

Arlene Luther at Ft Point below the Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco, California.

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[1] Carmelita was a nickname given to Arlene many years ago by a man she nursed in the Dakotas, I believe.