New Year's Reflections

Happy New Year! Today, quite appropriately, I am spending the day at my sister-in-law's house. She lives in the neighborhood in Pompano where Mike and I are moving on Feb 1st. A next step in creating a supportive environment for our growing family. With Auntie Agee to babysit and make sure I don't loose my mind and three cousins to play with, I think Baby Fuller has much to look forward to.

Driving here this morning was interesting. Pompano really isn't that far from Miami...30 minutes on the highway. But it's so different. So suburban. Part of me wishes I'd asked for a GPS for Christmas so I could find my way around. I literally don't know how to get to even the grocery store from here. But it's much more of a community, which I think will help in the long run. And as always, it's part of my new year's resolution to get in some kind of shape so I am hopeful about swimming in the pool and using the tennis and basketball courts, walking trails and the gym.

I should mention that Agee doesn't have cable but she does have a washer and dryer, something Mike and I are missing in our current place. So I'm spending my day in reflection, doing laundry, exploring websites on the Internet and thinking about what the New Year will bring. I probably would have spent the entire day glued to the TV watching reruns of Law and Order, House and all of the variations of CSI had I not come to Pompano today. So, as much as I was dreading no cable, I think it's for the best.

In my travels through cyberspace, I came across Julia Alvarez's website - via a high school friends facebook page (yes, I'm addicted). I feel like Julia is a good friend. My Dad introduced us when I was 10 with a copy of How the Garcia Girls Lost their Accents followed by In the Time of the Butterflies. We have been faithful friends since. She has channeled my emotions from adolescence to adulthood - I have read my thoughts in !YO! and In the Name of Salome, reading every word published. I've grown to idolize Julia. I want to visit her home in Vermont, her farm in Dominican Republic and take one of her classes at Middlebury. But for the moment, I settle for her words.

I've read her biography many times before but reading it today was a little different. I guess it depends what I'm thinking and going through. It made me smile to think her first book wasn't published until she was 41. It means I still have time....it means it's ok that I want to be like her when I grow up and maybe even, that it's possible.

I share her bio with you here:


About Julia Alvarez

I guess the first thing I should say is that I was not born in the Dominican Republic. The flap bio on García Girls mentioned I was raised in the D.R., and a lot of bios after that changed raised to born, and soon I was getting calls from my mother.

I was born in New York City during my parents' first and failed stay in the United States. When I was three months old, my parents, both native Dominicans, decided to return to their homeland, preferring the dictatorship of Trujillo to the U.S.A. of the early 50s. Once again, my father got involved in the underground and soon my family was in deep trouble. We left hurriedly in 1960, three months before the founders of that underground, the Mirabal sisters, were brutally murdered by the dictatorship (see In the Time of the Butterflies).

It's not like I didn't know some English at ten when we landed in New York City. But classroom English, heavily laced with Spanish, did not prepare me for the "barbaric yawp" of American English -- as Whitman calls it. I couldn't tell where one word ended and another began. I did pick up enough English to understand that some classmates were not very welcoming. Spic! a group of bullies yelled at me in the playground. Mami insisted that the kids were saying, Speak! And then she wonders where my storytelling genes come from.

When I'm asked what made me into a writer, I point to the watershed experience of coming to this country. Not understanding the language, I had to pay close attention to each word -- great training for a writer. I also discovered the welcoming world of the imagination and books. There, I sunk my new roots. Of course, autobiographies are written afterwards. Talk to my tías in the D.R. and they'll tell you I was making up stuff way before I ever set foot in the United States of America. (And getting punished for it, too. Lying, they called it back then.) But they're right. As a kid, I loved stories, hearing them, telling them. Since ours was an oral culture, stories were not written down. It took coming to this country for reading and writing to become allied in my mind with storytelling.

All through high school and college and then a graduate program in creative writing -- you can get all the dry facts in my attached resume -- I was a driven soul. I knew that I wanted to be a writer. But it was the late sixties, early seventies. Afro-American writers were just beginning to gain admission into the canon. Latino literature or writers were unheard of. Writing which focused on the lives of non-white, non mainstream characters was considered of ethnic interest only, the province of sociology. But I kept writing, knowing that this was what was in me to do.
Of course, I had to earn a living. That's how I fell into teaching, mostly creative writing, which I loved doing. For years, I traveled across the country with poetry-in-the-schools programs, working until the funds dried up in one district, and then I'd move on to the next gig. After five years of being a migrant writer, I decided to put down roots and began teaching at the high school level, moving on to college teaching, and finally, on the strength of some publications in small magazines and a couple of writing prizes, I landed a tenure-track job.

1991 was a big year. I earned tenure at Middlebury College and published my first novel, How The García Girls Lost Their Accents. My gutsy agent, Susan Bergholz, found a small press, Algonquin Books, and a wonderful editor, Shannon Ravenel, willing to give "a new voice" a chance. I was forty-one with twenty-plus years of writing behind me. I often mention this to student writers who are discouraged at nineteen when they don't have a book contract!
With the success of García Girls, I suddenly had the chance to be what I always wanted to be: a writer who earned her living at writing. But I'd also fallen in love with the classroom. I toiled and troubled about what to do. After several years of asking for semester leaves, I gave up my tenured post. Middlebury College kindly invited me to stay on as a writer-in-residence, advising students, teaching a course from time to time, giving readings.

So here I am living in the tropical Champlain Valley. (That's the way folks in the Northeast Kingdom refer to this part of Vermont!) I'm happily settled down with my compañero, Bill Eichner, on eleven acres which Bill farms, growing most of our vegetables and greens and apples and potatoes and even Asian pears organically, haying the back pasture, and planting so many berry-bearing trees and bushes we now have enough birdsong around here to keep me humble. Recently, he has added animals: cows, calves, rabbits, chickens. As a vegetarian, it is an odd adventure helping raise somebody else's meat. But if you are going to be a carnivore (or wear shoes or carry a handbag) this is the way to do it: conscionable with affection and care and abiding gratitude to the creatures who provide for us.

I guess the only other thing I should mention about my life is our project in the Dominican Republic. About eleven years ago, Bill and I started a sustainable farm-literacy center called Alta Gracia. Rather than telling you the whole long story here about why we are growing organic, shade-grown coffee; why we started a school on the farm; why sustainability is so important a concept for us all to be thinking about, I'll send you to A Cafecito Story, a modern, "green" fable I wrote inspired by our project. The afterword by Bill tells all about our own farm. Visit our website cafealtagracia.com and find out how to order our coffee, Café Alta Gracia, and maybe even visit the farm!

I'll let the three-part resume (www.julialavarez.com) fill you in on the blow by blow details: publications, presentations, teaching experience, awards. Actually, the best place to find out about me and my writing life is to read my book of essays, Something to Declare. I wrote that book for readers who were always asking me about writing and about my life. I haven't changed my mind all that much since 1998 when it was published, which is kind of gratifying, to think that certain things remain true, like that Frost quote from "Into My Own," in which he says that, even after death, those who meet him won't find him much changed from him they knew, "only more sure of all I thought was true." Nice when poems tell the truth, even when we writers are known for making things up.

Navidad en Miami

Everyone has their favorite time of year. The summer, their birthday month, fall because of the weather, spring because of all of the flowers....I'm a big fan of winter. And living in South Florida, we unfortunately do not get to see much of winter. What counts as cold here is fabulous weather during any northeast September and needless to say we don't see much snow. But we still have the holidays - Thanksgiving, My Birthday, Christmas and New Year's all in a matter of weeks. There's no other time of year that calls for so much celebration. This year, Mike and I are also blessed to have something new to celebrate - a little Fuller.

I was kind of dreading the holiday this year. My second Christmas in South Florida and my second Christmas without visiting Dominican Republic or New York, where the holiday lives for me. Well, where it used to live I guess. Mike and I did Christmas at our house this year. My mom flew in from New Jersey, her first solo flight since loosing her vision...the things people will do when their daughter's pregnant! And it was just the three of us.

Mike handled the news that we would NOT be going to the "beautiful Port St. Lucie," well, beautifully. I kind of just told him that I wasn't going to go and he said, ok. He's always been good at picking his battles...one of the many things I need to learn from him.

So here we were. Mom and I went grocery shopping and bought everything under the sun. I have honestly NEVER spent so much at the grocery store but she was all about filling the cart. I made a pernil, under her tutelage, for the first time. And it came out surprisingly delicious. We've had mangu, fried cheese, salchicha and eggs for breakfast everyday since she's arrived - Mike officially LOVES mangu!

We put up a little tree (really little), and opened presents. We've slept and eaten to a glutinous level and drank and were merry. Don't worry, I was drinking Martinelli's while everyone else had some wine. Mom stocked my maternity closet and bought a crib! Baby's first furniture and something to fit mami's belly! All things to be happy about and thankful for.

So as much as I was dreading another Christmas in South Florida, it was fantastic. I got more than I could have hoped in terms of presents. I felt accomplished - I created Christmas in my home...practice for next year when we have a little one to be merry for.

Que viene mas Pan!

Happy Friday to you!

My poor neglected blog. I've been up and down and up again in the last couple months. But today is a good day and I feel like sharing.

As I'm sure all of you loyal fans know, Mike and I are pregnant! Well, I'm pregnant and he's along for the ride. Being pregnant is the most exciting and terrifying experience I've ever been through and I'm only at 14 weeks! But the excitement often outweighs the terror and every one's blessings and good wishes help me know that all will be well.

I especially wanted to share the big news – Mike got a promotion! It's still an hourly position but he did get a raise (woo-woo!) and he's moved from claims to adjudication – which is when people dispute claims, he's like the arbiter. There are more permanent (with benefits) positions in this department so hopefully we'll have more good news in a few months.

Celebration!

One of my coworkers got married a month before Mike and I did and she told me that her mom wants her to have a baby and she's worried about the cost and her mom told her – no te preocupas, los bebes siempre llegan con pan abajo del brazo. Don't worry, babies always come with bread under their arm.

Here comes the pan!

To top it off, I have a new dress on today and I feel cute for the first time in too long. I'm in the phase right before you're obviously pregnant but after your regular clothes stopped fitting you....so it's easy to feel...frumpy. But thanks to Ann Taylor and Black Friday, I have been saved from frumpiness, at least for today.

It's a great day.

Calling Me Home - Tuesday, September 9, 2008

The past few weeks have been filled with so much emotion. I’m not sure if it’s the series of events or my old age but I feel like I’ve cried more in the past few months than I had in the 4 years before that. Somehow I feel more vulnerable, less able to hold myself together until I’m alone as I used to do.

I’m on a plane to JFK where my brother will be picking me up at 11:30 pm. My mother had surgery this morning…a surgery that I couldn’t make because I was at work and broke. She had complications and her blood pressure dropped lower than her doctor had ever seen on a person in 30 years of practice. She was put on a respirator and is now in the ICU. I’ve spoken to her doctor and he tells me that although it was quite a scare, she is ok. He sounds positive and very sincere. But a part of me doesn’t really believe him. How could she come so close to critical and still be ok? So I’m on my way to confirm and just give her a big hug and a kiss and tell her that I love her and I’m so sorry for not being there right when she woke up. I imagine this is something like what parents feel; like you need to be there with your kids when they go through things to make sure that they don’t feel alone or scared. When I spoke to my mom yesterday, she was so nervous and anxious. And I tried my best to console her but also got off the phone quickly. That was selfish of me but listening to her talk about her surgery just brought me to tears. And I didn’t want her to hear that.

Demian is also on his way. He left school today and borrowed his roommate’s car. He called me so worked up and nervous….looking for my advice. Does he go or does he stay? I know what it’s like to run out of school in a frenzy. I had to take those trips from DC….spend two weeks in a hospital room when my mom first lost her vision. But that was my senior year in college. Demian has only been in school a few weeks and already he has this burden to bear. I worry about him and if this is something he can handle on top of all of the other recent changes in his life. And I feel that the activities in my life in recent months are just calling me home.
My aunt passed a month before my wedding. She was the pillar of communication in my family and my mom’s best friend. I’d never seen my mom so devastated, never witnessed her sob in such pain. Then I got married a month later, such a celebration and a truly happy day. But another reminder that Florida is not quite my home, not where my people are. Then Demian’s high school graduation in the Dominican Republic. Another happy moment. But Mom couldn’t come because there was really no one for her to travel with from New Jersey and a certain lack of resources. And another trip to New Jersey in August to move Demian in to college….something my parents should have been able to do but just couldn’t . I feel such responsibility to fill these holes but the travel from Miami just doesn’t seem sustainable or even like it’s enough. And now this emergency trip home. My guilt overwhelms me. I should’ve been there this morning when she went into surgery…should have been there to reassure her that it would be fine and to speak to the Doctor when there was a problem.

For the moment I must just thank God that this was just a scare. Thank god that I was able to find a way home tonight and that I have a husband who can always calm me when something goes wrong and in-laws who seem to be my eternal saviors in times of crisis.

Work - Monday, September 8, 2008

The Carmel Valley in California is definitely on my short list of most beautiful places I’ve ever been. I never had big aspirations for domestic travel. I figured I would see whatever I would see and count my pennies for international trips when I could manage them. But for the past two years, I’ve spent a little over a week in California in September for the Audi Best Buddies Challenge: Hearst Castle. It is apparently the perfect week to be there. The weather is perfect – long sleeves are necessary, a welcome change from what can be the oppressive heat of Miami. And while there, I stay at the Quail Lodge Resort & Golf Club, a place I could never afford on my own. It really is amazing.

But juxtaposed against this beauty and what should be a feeling of serenity is the most hectic work schedule I’ve ever had. I arrive on Sunday and spend most of the day unpacking and sorting through hundreds of boxes. I work late into the night every night catching up on all the emails and phone calls, confirmation number requests and hotel questions. And then wake up at 6:30 for 7 AM meetings. I spent Wednesday driving the 100 miles down to Cambria to check in with my duties there. The most amazing drive I’ve ever taken is speeding through the twists and turns of the Pacific Coast Highway. But I arrive back up to Carmel that evening with over 100 emails that all request urgent response and hit a breaking point (translation: eyes filled with tears) somewhere around 2 AM. I rest, breathe and push on…a coworker at my side. At least I’m part of a team.

I often waiver about whether my work for Best Buddies is worth it. I put in a lot of hours for a salary that is probably fair for my age and experience but definitely not sufficient for the many financial needs I have. I struggle with the constant shortfall and the impossibility of turning a dollar into ten and wonder if my husband and I will ever be “comfortable” with this sort of a start. I sometimes feel like I’m on the outside looking in – still not quite up to speed with Miami culture and often not understanding the decisions I see made. I see people get the short end of the stick despite their hard work and worry that I will suffer the same burn out and disillusionment I’ve seen and heard so much about. I long for a position with a company whose mission I feel more passionate about but I am also inspired by the stories I hear about and the people I meet with intellectual disabilities. And really there are quite a few positives. What other job would send me to California for a week, or challenge me in so many ways? What other job would allow little old me the possibility of closing a sponsor deal or executing a half million dollar auction? Would the Vice President’s door always be open if I moved on to something else? Would I get emails directly from the Chairman of another place and the opportunity to bring my ideas and creative side to the table? Would any other place give me the flexibility to have attended my brother’s high school graduation, visited the Dominican Republic when my new baby brother was born, spend a 3 hour lunch at a dress fitting or fly to New Jersey every time my mom needs me?

Liberation - August 19, 2008

I'm a big fan of Budget Travel magazine. If you haven't read it, you really should. It has travel tips, sample itineraries, 40 travel deals for each month and some amazing pictures. For someone like me, on a constant budget, it's the perfect travel indulgence...telling me how to economically enjoy the world. Every quarter, Budget Travel comes with a supplement called Girlfriend Getaways, a sister publication that focuses on how you and your gal pals can see the world. This quarter's issue of Girlfriend Getaways focused on girlfriends goading their friends into all sorts of ridiculous and at the same time, liberating, activities.

Now aside from my sorority road trips in college (which usually consisted of sleeping on a floor), I've never really taken a girlfriend getaway (but I do have aspirations of a trip to Vegas for all my girlfriends reading, so start putting away!). But this past weekend my great friend and bridesmaid Dionne was in Miami with some of her friends. They spent 3 days getting sun on the beach and nights on the strip. On Saturday, I decided to join them. Despite my residence in Miami, I barely get over to the beach...a shame, I know.

So we get to the beach and I down a deliciously strong smoothie from Wet Willy's. The sun is blazing so we all head out to the water and someone decides they're going to go topless....and someone else follows...and I'm thinking, should I? I've never dared to do such a thing. I've been wearing a bra since the 2nd grade so my chest has never been cute and perky - nothing I thought was worth sharing and really, just a cause for poor posture. But then someone else takes the plunge and I decide, why the hell not?!?! So down comes the suit. And at first I'm timid, ducked down in the water hoping not to gross anyone out by the sheer magnitude of my "flotation devices" as someone so eloquently put it. But then I noticed that no one else seemed ashamed...no one else felt the need to hide or cross their arms. So I just swam around, I stood straight up, I even had the audacity to float on my back...and it felt wonderful. It was nice to just let it all hang out so to speak - to know that I was doing something a little naughty, but not quite dirty...and the exhibitionist in me blossomed (she's the one who floated on her back). Here's to many more girlfriend getaways.

Olympics - Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Did you see the opening ceremonies to the Olympics? A-MAZ-ING! I mean really, 2008 people doing EXACTLY the same thing?! It's like the world's greatest step show. I just don't know how London will be able to do anything like this in 2012. I've never actually been to Britain but the impression I've been given of this country where my dollar is worth $0.50 on a good day is bland food, lots of rain and much beer. Will they be able to present something as spectacular as this show? The largest LCD screen in existence, synchronization at it's best, culture, history, the bird's nest AND the water cube. I'm in awe of all of it.

Aside from the spectacular Olympic presentation of the Chinese in executing the world's largest sporting event, I'm also amazed at how suddenly, everyone I run into is a sports fan...myself included. I've been up past 11 every night since the opening ceremonies (my bedtime is really 10 o'clock and would be earlier if my husband would allow it). From beach volleyball to gymnastics (beautiful) and synchronized diving, which I didn't even know was a sport five days ago, I've watched anything that comes across the screen. I've diligently tracked the metal count (always hoping to catch the Dominican Republic on the list) and cursing when I see that China has 17 gold medals compared to the US's 7. And every conversation I've had has involved the Olympics.

I then find my mind wandering off to life as an Olympian and am definitely most interested in all of the little background stories presented throughout the games. Michael Phelps eats 8 - 10,000 calories a day! And it's still not enough to break 200 lbs. Aside from swimming, he eats and sleeps, he's lazy out of the pool. Shawn Johnson's gym in Iowa flooded so she trained in 2 ft of water until she was evacuated. One of the American synchro divers had her mom move to Indiana with her so she could train with her partner.

The life of an Olympian is some life. For someone like me who's been vowing to loose 20 lbs and study for the GMAT for the last two years...and have accomplished neither goal....the thought of putting everything aside and spending all of that time and energy on a sport and physical fitness just blows my mind. I mean, the type of endurance and mental concentration is baffling. And the sacrifice - missing middle and high school to train, having your mom move across the country with you (away from her husband) so that you can maybe be an Olympian. Would I go through all that if I were talented enough? Would my parents have even considered such a drastic change and financial commitment? My mom couldn't even be convinced to take me to softball practice (my Dad drove down to Jersey from NYC twice a week so that I could go). The whole thing is just....yes, I'll say it again....amazing. And really what I need to take from it all is some inspiration, a little nudge to plug away at my goals - don't have dessert and crack the GMAT prep book open. Because that's nothing compared to what other people do to achieve their goals.

Mike's Birthday - August 10, 2008

Another party at the Fuller residence. Mike's 24th birthday was yesterday...don't you love when that special day falls on a Saturday? At first we weren't going to do anything big, a party for two if you will. But on Friday, Mike decided maybe we should invite some people. So I did my wifely duty and made the appropriate phone calls.

I always get a little anxious having an "event." Perhaps it's residual anxiety from my high schools years, but I'm always afraid I'm not cool enough for people to actually come and if they do come, I worry that they won't have fun at my house...since we technically don't have enough seating for everyone, no patio furniture for the BBQ part and a lack of board games (which is apparently what parties consist of in your mid-twenties?).

But all in all it went really well. Most of Mike's close friends came through (food and drink in hand). The BBQ was delicious, drinks were abundant and the laughs continued. Mike's night ended in happy drunkenness. And I officially earned the title of "Best Wife to Have on Your Birthday" for putting it all together.

My first entry that actually is just musings - July 30, 2008

I've already been married for 3 months and completed over a year of employment at Best Buddies. I've lived in Florida for a year and four months - in that time I've gone home to see my Dad 3 times (and gotten a new baby brother) and gone home to Mom 10 or so times. When I stop to really look back at the past year and four months, it just flew by. In my freshmen year of college, the thought of three more years seemed like an eternity. In terms of my experiences and how I changed in those four years at college, it probably was an eternity but looking back, it just whizzed by. I don't know if this is something of a mid-life crisis but I've recently been feeling so overwhelmed with the magnitude of what I want to accomplish in what seems like such a short period of time.

I'm married at 23 - this, was an unexpected gift. And now that I'm married, I want to have a baby at 25 (it seems arbitrary but I'd like to get started early to avoid the many healthy problems that my mom suffered through in having her babies at 30 and 35). And before having a baby, my husband and I want to get out of debt (a cumulative amount more than our annual income), own a home (I have a sub-prime credit score which will take at least 7 years to repair), loose a combined 100 lbs (I just had cookies for dessert and rice and platanos with my dinner...), we want a certain annual income (about twice what we're making now) and Master's degrees (we haven't even taken a GRE). So when I do the math, I'll be ready to have a baby in my early 30's...more than five years after my goal.

Time just seems to be escaping me.

Mike tells me I just need to take one thing at a time. In the words of Stacy's away message, plan the work and work the plan. But I've always had trouble seperating everything. I guess it's the fatalist in me - I need to pay down my debt, but i don't make enough money, and if I don't make enough money, I can't go back to school, which means I'll be stuck in this job forever, and...well, I think you get it. This is where my mind goes.

Most recently I've been busying myself with projects:
- Catching up on work - I've been checked out the last few months and there is much to do
- Revitalizing the Theta Iota Chapter
- Single-handedly running the first ever SLU auction at our national convention in DC (a trip I'm not even sure I can afford to take)
- Creating a consulting firm with my sister-in-law
- This blog
- A pretty agressive job search
- Reading more...

This is the same approach I had in college - if I keep myself busy enough, it'll all just come together. I guess the hope is that one or more of these projects will bring me to some peace and a sense that it will in fact all be ok.

The largest benefit of having a husband is the confidence that you are not going through any of this along. The detriment of a husband - now you're failures are no longer just yours. If I fail, I've failed him as well.

I assume the most important part of it all is to try and keep some perspective and not let the emotion of it overtake me. Something my friend Sarah says comes with age. For despite my Mrs. status, I am only 23.

Reunion - Saturday, July 19, 2008

Today, three months after the happiest day of my life, I picked-up my wedding dress from the dry cleaners. I was determined to get a certain list of errands done and still make it to the beach for some sun bathing and relaxation before Mike got home from work (5 PM) - really maximize my Saturday. So I was up at 10 (this is early for me on a Saturday) and working - dishes, sorting through all of the laundry that needed to be done, cleaning the kitchen...Jumped in the shower, got all my beach stuff ready and packed into the car. First stop, north to Publix for my beach snacks. Then south to the dry cleaners - drop the dress off at home - and off to the beach.

I had been saving up the money to pick up the dress since I dropped it off. And calling the dry cleaners -

Can I pick it up on the 1st?
Sure
Call back - can I pick it up on the 15th?
...not a problem
Well - actually can I get it on the 1st?
yes ma'm...it's still here
I'll be there on the 15th, is that ok?

So finally, this paycheck was the one that put me over the top. I drove up to the dry cleaners...parked, and timidly walked up to the door. I dreaded something would be wrong - they closed early on saturday, gave my dress to Goodwill since it had been there 2 months... something.

The store is open - relief!

I walk-in, receipt in hand - I'm here to pick up THE wedding dress (because mine is the only one that ever had to be laundered before).

The teller goes to the reel to look for it. All of the clothes spin - my eyes frantically running back and forth trying to spot something familiar. STOP

She pulls down my dress - instant Kool-Aid smile!!! It was like seeing my long-lost friend - my 3rd bridesmaid - my partner in all of the anxiety, excitement, joy and love that filled my wedding day.

And...icing on the cake - the check-out woman at the cleaners tells me - is that YOUR dress? It's beautiful...but it looks too big for you.

Oh no, it fits like a glove.
Really? You look a lot smaller than that.

Oh yes, I was happy.

Ode to Bus 54 - July 10, 2008

My good friend Jessica was inspired to begin her blog while riding the 54 Bus in Washington, DC. She always told me about it and I never got myself together to read it. As much as I love email, I find I am often hesitant to move onto all of the other things the Internet holds. I just recently began online shopping...I know, I'm an old lady at heart.

The bus54 blog is currently home to Dispatches from Bolivia which motivated me to be an avid fan of the blog. Phone calls to Bolivia weren't really an option so reading the weekly posts was the best way to stay connected with all of Jessica's adventures. But after my month and a half of commuting via Miami's very interesting public transportation system, I think I was probably missing out on bus54.

Thanks to the rising cost of gasoline, increased parking costs and the legacy of the wedding of my dreams (ask VISA about it), I gave up driving to work and began taking the bus. For those of you who enjoy people watching, let me tell you, the bus is the perfect place to really cultivate your people watching skills...and probably your storytelling as well. You begin to see the same people each day. You see their outfits, where they get on and off and overhear snippets of their lives as they talk on the phone or surprisingly, to each other (yes, strangers).


The most interesting characters so far:

- This man who looked like he was dropped right out of the '80's....like a retired pimp who'd been through some things. He had on those old school air force ones with a mustard yellow Nike check and a matching yellow jumpsuit! Dark shades and a gold chain rounded out the look and I wondered, where could he be going?

- The woman with a voice box who actually spoke to me - Outside of those Truth campaign commercials, I'd never really seen the voice box (I know there's a medical name for it) in person. So that in itself caused some staring (thank God for sunglasses). But then, she put her hand to her neck and spoke to me! It really does sound like a robot. Where could she be going and what is it like to go there everyday and have to work in that condition?

- "When I do XYZ, I can get into my dream school, Devry University. Once I get in there, I'm set, that's where all of the millionaire companies hire from." Who calls Devry their dream school? This is a far cry from my GW classmates and a true testament to the value of advertising. After thinking about it though, it's also a true testament to the elitism I feel...I mean really, how dare I question or gawk at a young man (a young black man) who's trying to get an education. Who am I to judge the quality of that education?

- Pajama Lady - now I know I've been known to go out and have a little too much cleavage but this woman literally had on a night gown! She was very chatty with her fellow commuters - she cleans houses and her husband works at Wendy's - she was at least 40. And as I sat there coming to my own conclusions about how she dressed and what her life must be like, the bus driver was trying to kick a high school kid off the bus. He looked 15 or 16 and had paid 75 cents, the student fare. But he had no student ID to show so pajama lady gives him a dollar - "here you go baby boy. I don't want you to have to get off the bus. Just remember your ID next time OK sweetheart?" Another lesson in humility for me.

Types of Love - July 9, 2008

Hey, no new posts?! lol....i thought i would add a random/nice memory to your blog. Now this may apply more to me than you, but here goes lol. One thing I'll always remember about you is how thoughtful you are. I have evidence of this thoughtfulness all over my room (at this very moment). I still have (and cherish) two small wooden jewelry boxes you gave me from DR and a pair of volcanic rock turtles you got me from Italy. I really love them all and wanted to thank you again for thinking of me :)
- Jennifer Kurtz, Elementary School Friend Extraordinaire

Jennifer Kurtz has probably been my biggest fan in terms of this whole blogging endeavor. Who knew so many years ago that we would reconnect in the blogesphere!

Her recent post on my blog reminded me of something another great friend of mine told me about in college. Jessica Lynd is always reading something inspiring, something spiritual and thought provoking and often comes to some very accurate conclusions about the nature of man and the nature of particular people that she knows based on her readings. I think she's really mastered the art of reflecting on what you read.

According to Gary Chapman, there are Five Love Languages and the only way to achieve and express heartfelt commitment to your partner is to fully understand your love language and theirs. Jessica read the book and described the languages to me:

1. Words of Affirmation - this person gives and thrives off of verbal appreciation and encouragement
2. Quality Time - this person treasures quality conversation and activities, really focusing on spending time with the other person
3. Gifts - this person expresses themselves by giving gifts and really treasures any gift that is received
4. Acts of Service - this love language involves physical expressions of love in helping others and appreciating when you are being helped
5. Physical Touch - self-explanatory
   

She identified me as someone who expresses themselves by giving gifts and really treasures any gift that is received. I do pride myself on being an excellent gift giver. I always do my best to find that special something for someone...something I've been slacking on recently. And reading Jenn's post made me so happy - it's always nice to know the things you put effort into matter to someone else.

I really do love Magazines - July 8, 2008

My love affair with magazines began at an early age. I was one of those kids who always had a subscription - Highlights, National Geographic Kids, Scholastic something or other and then the infamous Cricket and later, Cicada magazines (fabulous writing like The New Yorker, but for kids). It was the only way for my Dad to keep up with my book a day reading habit (magazines are far cheaper).

Today on the bus I was reading my first issue of Entrepreneur. I had picked-it up at the airport on my way to DR (my guilty pleasure while I travel -blow $20 on magazines at the newstand). Traveling is my opportunity to test drive something new - see what is worth getting a subscription too. The selection of Entrepreneur was inspired by my sister-in-law and her very strong conviction that owning a business is the only way to financial security, the perfect home-life balance and wealth.

The amazing thing about magazines are the many topics covered within just a few pages. I feel like a travel agent after flipping through Budget Travel, a health & wellness professional after reading Self and a financial consultant after finishing Kiplinger's Personal Finance.

I really do love magazines.

Perspective - Monday, July 7, 2008

Demian is going to PennState Hazleton tomorrow for his first visit. He has some errands to run - computer log-in and ID, the search for part-time job prospects, checking out the dorm room and in general, getting to know his new home.

I am excited for him and a little anxious. I know that the transition from life as a hevito in DR to a hard-working, broke college student will be difficult for him. And I hope his first impressions of Hazelton are good ones, I hope he can see himself there and see himself happy there.

Unfortunately my mother has insisted on going with him. Something about proving to him that her blindness doesn't disqualify her from the visit, etc., etc. The thing about my mom is that each and every situation, no matter what it is, is about her. So Demian's desire to go without her is not about him needing to discover this new place on his own, or about him learning to navigate the campus and speak to the different offices without a pushy mom in the background. It's about her blindness, and Demian's suppossed need for therapy to accept her blindness.

When she first got sick, it was difficult for me to do what I needed to do for her. She and I barely spoke - my feelings of resentment and the low self-esteem that I suffered as a result of always being a terrible daughter clouded any feeling of affection I could have had towards her. But I sucked it up - I did my best to be there for her and take care of her. I made sure to call her every day and visit as often as possible. And as time passed, I just accepted that mom was all about mom and I had to get over it.

But recently, my ability to overlook this fundamental flaw in her has been more and more difficult to come by. I recently got married and am thinking of starting a family with my husband. The depression I sometimes suffer through is no longer just my problem - it is something that affects my husband, something that he has to deal with and work through. And I worry about being the kind of parent my mother was - I worry that I will be too caught up in myself and my own struggles to provide the sort of support my kids need, I worry that I will make my children feel guilty and responsible for any problems I might have, as my mom did.

Today's happy moment was that after a short but heated conversation with mom, and the residual passing and ranting and fears that always come after such conversations, Mike assured me that I would be a wonderful mother.


And now my mom is crossing something of a line. She's doing everything in her power to maintain a tight grip on Demian. On Saturday she gave me a dissertation on what a terrible person he is and how he left the states as Demian and has come back as a little version of Amos (my father). She's doing it all over again. She always hated, resented the feelings I had for my father and she held it against me, threw it in my face, every chance she got. I was being a disloyal and disobediant daughter to her merely in existing. And now Demian is too.

It breaks my heart to watch her do that to him and enrages me all at once. It offends the feeling of protection I have for him. Didn't I go through all of that krap so he wouldn't have to? ...and my unending desire for my mom to just let the past go and be happy. But she is stuck in her ways, and maybe it's her guilt trips and bagdering that help her get through the day, help her feel in control.

Mike helps put all of these feelings in perspective though. I can't change her, only do my best to advise. I can't be in New Jersey to moderate, only call Demian and support him, remind him that his time there will not last forever. And I'm no good to either of them if I spend my time driving myself crazy about what I can't do.

BBQ - 4th of July Weekend

We had our first BBQ this weekend. I really was exhausted - emotionally and physically. I still hadn't quite recovered from my previous weekend's travels and honestly, was not in the right mood to have a house full of people.

But I think despite that, everyone had a good time and the food was good (always the case at the Fuller II house). And this time, I barely did any cooking. I made a GIANT (yes, GIANT) bowl of potato salad (that we're still eating from) and mixed some sangria blanca (we're addicted) and everything else was done by Mike and
family. I can't event explain the relief - I had no energy for slaving away in the kitchen.

But enough about my lack of energy (about which I could probably blog each and every day) and onto the weekend's happy moment.

I shouldn't really say "we" had our first BBQ. Unlike past events at Casa Fuller, this was definitely Mike's BBQ. Leading up to the event, he bought a BBQ (thank you State of Florida employees for the Home Depot gift certificate!) and anxiously ran through the grocery store overpurchasing meat, bread, condiments and desserts. He absolutely wanted to ensure that we had enough of everything.

Then, the first lighting of the grill....playing with the coals, waiting for them, until they are perfect.....camping chairs set-up outside....a beer....and finally - the meat is put on the grill!

Three courses later (sausages and hot dogs, then burgers, grand finale - chicken!) the BBQ is a resounding success. Nothing is burned, bellies are full and my husband has proven himself an adept BBQer! He was quietly proud, pleased and impressed with himself. It was too cute - like a right of passage for him I think. Something close to my fried-chicken experience.

Recovering - Thursday, July 3, 2008

It's been a very difficult week. I always feel like I leave a part of myself behind in Santo Domingo. The babies are so small and every time I see them, they are new people! My Dad, he is going through it, in more ways than one. And I can't help but feel that he doesn't have enough people to talk to, enough support to help him get through the days. And Demian, oh Demian, he needs more than what Mom and Dad are providing. They are both so wrapped up in their troubles - rightfully so as they both have fairly serious troubles - but it seems like he's getting the short end of the stick.

On top of that, I got paid on Monday and had a financial meltdown on Wednesday, overwhelmed by my many commitments, wants and needs and the utter sense of impotence that I felt in realizing I absolutely did not have the means to come near fulfilling all of those things. This is becoming a monthly occurrence and something I need to find my way out of - both mentally and financially.

So the past two days haven't really been blog-worthy but I feel like today, things are getting better.

I didn't require 3 cups of coffee as I did on Tuesday and Wednesday.

My day began with a call from my sister-in-law - convinced that entrepreneurship is the only way to success, she has asked me to go into some consulting with her. I'm definitely a fan of projects and looking forward to where this one will go.

My sister-in-law Adriane and her son, Lion


I got to work before 9 AM for the first time since transitioning my commute from the car to the bus (gas is a bitch).

And, I was actually productive today at work - I was an animal, shooting off emails left and right, responding to old inquiries, catching up on my time away and the past few days that I'd spent in a daze. It was reminiscent of my most productive days at work (which have been few and far between the past few months). And it felt good, it felt good to know I was earning my salary, doing everything that was expected of me.

And later in the day, as if Anthony (our Founder & Chairman) had seen exactly how hard I was working, we get a Staff Appreciation email. The office will be closed all-day Monday and Tuesday until noon. Our mileage reimbursement has been increased by almost ten cents a mile! And, the jackpot, we will be implementing summer hours, working from home on Wednesdays is an option from now through Labor Day (if you're supervisor approves - but still an option nonetheless.

Home - Monday, June 30, 2008

I came home on Monday! Mike picked me up and took me too....drumroll please....Chipotle!! I mean, that is some serious love - I LOVE Chipotle!

And as much as I always feel like a part of me has been left behind in DR, it was good to be home.

Married Life Has Agreed with Me - Sunday, July 29, 2008

On Sunday we made the rounds - obligatory family visits - which I always enjoy. There is the constant flow of Presidente as my uncles and Dad catch-up, we all stare at the babies in awe of all that they can do and how big they've gotten, catch each other up on family news and share stories of the funny things we've seen or heard in the last few days.

On this trip, I was full of awe as all of my baby cousins were now twice as big as they were the last time I saw them and couldn't even be called babies anymore. At each visit I was overwhelmed with how fast time seems to fly and the nostalgia of my teenage and college years when visits to DR happened at least three times a year and never for just a few days as they are now.

But back to the happy thoughts. My cousin Morena was at my uncles house (her Dad). I hadn't seen her in ages. The last time we spoke her son Omar was 5, now he's going into the 5th grade! And she has another little one! She raved about how mature I looked - how she could tell that marriage was doing me good and it just made me look beautiful. I thanked her, with a big ear to ear smile plastered on my face thinking back to my hubby and how much I really did enjoy being married to him. As I giggled and absorbed my praise, my aunt Carla raved behind me about how big and strong and elegante Mike was - and those beautiful eyes.

I've seen a definite change since marrying Mike - I wear make-up now, and think twice before leaving the house in sweats, the bags under my eyes are lighter - not so severe, and it now seems easier to smile - it doesn't require all the effort it used too, the effort to appear to be having a good time while always feeling a little off.

But let me tell you, as good as if feels to notice the change and improvement in myself, the feeling of someone else, someone who's known me forever, spontaneously recognizing that improvement really was phenomenal. And I hope, a testament to how right we really are for each other.

Good Times - Saturday, June 28

Graduation - Friday, June 27, 2008

My little brother graduated from high school today and I had the honor of escorting him across the stage with my father. In my old age, I've become such a sap. I was close to tears for most of the graduation but held it together for fear of feeling an old lady.

Demian sat up on stage whispering among his friends while the announcer ran through the graduation precedings. As they were called to the stage, each student was regalled with what their classmates thought of them - Demian was known for his jokes and happiness, you can't be sad around him and he's a great soccer star. The class giggled and cheered for him (nope, not every graduate got that). His best friend Arturo graduated and he was class President. His girlfriend Anabel came up and she was Senorita Fashion, America's Next Top Model.

Then a slideshow went across the stage and there was Demian, front and center in every other photo.

And I was just really shocked. When Demian lived in NJ, he was afraid of everything. He was afraid of gettig lost, afraid of animals, almost afraid to talk. He had a small group of two or three friends and was unsuccessfully struggling to find his own personality under the iron fist of my mom. I was safely behind enemy lines with my Dad which meant Demian was left to struggle against the oppression alone (yes, I harbor guilt).

That was only three years ago. And now here he was, best friends with the class president, basically voted most popular kid in school, in love with the most beautiful girl in school and more confident in himself than I ever thought he could be. A very proud sister was I.


Best Friend and Best Sister at the after party - organized of course my Demian & Company.



Loyal friends and followers who escorted Demian to the airport - the one to the right is the girlfriend - Anabel.

Generosity - Thursday, June 26th

My flight on Wednesday was suppossed to take off at 6:30 PM. So on Tuesday, I ask my boss if I can work from home on Wednesday so I can put in my hours and avoid the back and forth - home, work, home, airport. And I give him this whole story about how I can't get my suitcases on the bus because they're so big - and it was legitimate. Not that I couldn't possibly have worked it out, but it seemed like so much unnecessary work. So after some eye-rolling and questions, he approves. And I was so productive in my day at home. I really don't know what I would have done without that day.

So I spend my day running between my computer, my suitcases and the bathroom in preperation for SuperShuttle's 3 PM arrival. I check my bags and am waiting for the plane by 4:30 PM. Such good timing. A wonderful start to my trip home.

At 5 PM, they announce that the flight may be cancelled - technical difficulties - please hold until 8 PM. 8 PM arrives and the flight will be taking off at 9:30 PM - cheers of joy. We board the plane at 9 PM and sit there for over an hour! None of the airline staff feel the need to tell us what the hell is going on. So the Vice President of the Dominican Republic (yes, he was on the plane), gets off. Followed by a dozen or so passengers. And finally, when they see this, the captain says the problem on the plane isn't fixed. We'd all have to exit the plane while they fixed it - it would take 2 hours. Pa que fue eso? The entire plane was in chaos - cursing, sucking of teeth and crying children.

So we do as we're told becuase what's a plane that doesn't work? And no one at the agent counter wants to speak to us. They are waving people off and rolling their eyes - as if it's our fault that at 10 o'clock (2 hours after we should have landed in DR), we were still in the same spot.

New announcement - the flight will be taking off at 11:40 pm from the other side of the airport. More uproar! And screams for food vouchers. Food vouchers can be found at the opposite gate. So we all trudge over to the other side of the airport - like sheep. Arriving at the other gate, more cries for food vouchers. Some requests for luggage to be removed from the plane and some people stomping off to take their cabs home. And another ticket agent who doesn't have the decency to treat exhausted people who have now been delayed almost six hours with some respect and answer their questions. (Yes, the arline has heard all about him.)

We are then told that food vouchers will not be given because it's too late - does that make any sense? I haven't had anything to eat since 2 PM when I left my house and because of you, I'm still in the airport, so the logicial thing is that I'm there too late to get food. As if I've watched all my possible flights fly away and chosen to remain at MIA - the coolest place on earth.

I mustered up $15 and bought a sandwich and a beer in the hopes that it would soothe my anger and make me sleepy. But there were so many mothers traveling alone with children. They'd had mutliple connections all day and NEEDED the food vouchers - it easily costs $10 to feed someonne at the airport - and if you've already bought 4 plane tickets and spent the day traveling, it's very possible that you just don't have $40 to spend on food.

Well a very generous passenger took it upon himself to buy out the cuban stand that was still open. He bought 50 sadwiches (yes, $500 in sandwiches) and had the (very rude and useless) airline clerk announce that food was available for any hungry children or families. I was amazed that after such a horrible day and such mistreatment, he was able to find the energy and generosity to fix it for so many of us.

It definitely gave me that warm and fuzzy feeling. And helped me refocus my mind from how angry and furstrated I was to the blessings:

- my boss did agree to let me work from home
- I was on my way to the Dominican Republic - despite my brokeness - to enjoy time with my family
- I had $15 to buy some food
- And when I finally did get to the airport at 3:45 am - my Dad was there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to pick me up (other passengers were not so lucky)

Sleepytime

On most days I start to feel the itch to go to sleep around 9:30 PM. I never actually get to sleep at that time though because Mike is against going to bed before midnight. He tells me how we only get to spend the evening's together and we don't get home and settled until 8pm on most nights so how could I cut the evening short, etc. Which makes complete sense - except that I'm exhausted. So we usually land at some sort of compromise and I'm in bed by 11.

Last night was a little different, I had had a bad day. End of the month = time to do bills, which never fails to ruin my day (or week). Some nonsense happened at work - not sure why I still let that bother me! The usual worry and pressure from mom about something - guilt trip and all. And although I'm about to embark on a 5 day adventure to DR to hang out with my brothers, I was sad that Mike wasn't able to come. It seemed wrong that my first trip back home after being married would be alone...

So I moped on the couch for a few hours and to my utter shock and amazement, at 9:30 pm, Mike turned off the TV and all the lights and announced that we'd be going to bed. And we talked in bed for a half hour or so and went to sleep. I think he could tell that the longer I stayed up, the more I would turn all the negative things around in my head and the worse I would feel. So he did the thing that he know gives me great comfort - sleeping snuggled up with him. It was a relief to just let it all go.



In the words of Mike's niece at 5 years old (Zenzele) - "When you're sad, you should pray and then take a nap. And when you wake up, things will be better."

Sometimes it is just that simple.

It's the Little Things

In the Fuller household, we pray every night before dinner.

Standard Daily prayer before dinner: "Bless this food we're about to recieve for the nourishment of our bodies in christ's name. Amen."

Tonight's before dinner prayer: "Bless this food we're about to recieve for the nourishment of our bodies in christ's name. Amen. And bless my honeybear (that's me) because I love her more and more everyday. Amen. Except Tuesdays, I love her the same on Tuesdays but more every other day. Amen."

It's hard not to be happy when you come home to that. The perfect balance of love and silliness.

Down Home with the Neelys

I love to cook. And luckily for Mike (who would live off of McDonald's and chicken wings if I didn't cook), I'm also pretty good at it. So yesterday in my lounging around, I watched "Down Home with the Neelys." It's a cooking show with a terrible time slot on Food Network - Saturdays at 1 PM (or something like that). But it's actually pretty good. This too cute black couple cooks soul food together for a half hour. Yesterday they made fried chicken, collard greens, sweet potato pie and other artery cloggers. The result looked so good that I was inspired to try my hand at fried chicken. I mean my husband is a black man from the south - so what business do I have being his wife if I can't make some soul food! So, with appropriate advice and commentary from the southern black man, I proceeded to make my first batch of fried chicken. And although when I thought I was done, it was raw inside and I had to bake it before we could actually eat it, the end result was juicy and had that perfect brown crispy outside. So I got half of it right and look forward to improving my second attempt!

Conversations with Home

Since Mike worked today, I spent most of the day lazing around, channel surfing between food network and HGTV. I also took the opportunit to make some phone calls. I called DR and spoke with my Dad and Mariella and Jose and Cristian. Cristian had me rolling - he asked how I was doing: como tu ta' and proceeded to tell me about his little brother Patricio. Patricio was urmiendo (instead of durmiendo - sleeping) and apparently he talks now. Cristian told me he says Papa and that he's gordo (fat). So I asked him if he was gordo too - si - and if he eats a lot - si - amd that he was bien. It's so easy to get pleasure from even just a few words, he had me rolling.

Cristian & Jose













Then I talked to Jose who excitedly announced that he was on summer vacation! That he's now 5 whole years old and that he has a loose tooth! So we went back and forth on what a big man he is and I congratulated him on "graduating" to the first grade. He asked me when I was coming and I excitedly told him, next week. And then he said bye - and then he said (as quickly as he could get it out), bye Hermanita (sister) and threw the phone to his mom. He's my stepbrother and has never called me his sister before - it was sweet how he threw it in, like a test to see if it would be ok. Lucky for him (and my Dad), I've always been open to more siblings!




Patricio

The novelty of talking to my younger siblings never wears off. I'm always amazed at how cute and funny their simple words and stories are.