Mean what you mean.

While walking the three blocks to the bus stop this morning, I was thinking about what motivates people to say the things that they say. How often do I drop a line because I mean it, or to provoke the listener so I can hear what I most what to hear? Recently, I've been able to pinpoint situations like the latter, although I hope (don't really believe) that I carry out conversations only in this manner. I don't think this means I never say what I truly feel, but it does indicate a certain level of doubt I might have about the person to whom I'm speaking. So I wonder, do I clam up, lie in wait, and hope for a flowing, meaningful conversation to just...flow? Or do I stretch the truth a little bit (whatever it might be) to get the kind of dialogue I want?

les choses petites...

When I was younger, I never understood why my mother would pass out at 9 pm after a day at work. Now that I'm somewhat of a working (interning) woman myself, I completely understand. Which is why yesterday, Saturday, July 14, 2012, was the best day of the summer. Why? Because I didn't do anything. Waking up late (11 am) led to staying in my pajamas all day. It meant making a pot of coffee and drinking the whole thing by myself whilst plowing through The Dubliners. My razor-sharp focus on the book obviously required that I reward myself with some homemade maple walnut cookies, which of course translated into an excuse to put down the book, gather my ingredients and indulge in some homemade cookie dough. Of course, warm cookies are only most appropriate with some slow-churned (half the fat!!) vanilla ice cream and on a summer's day, only to be enjoyed in front of Lord of the Rings.

Greatest Saturday afternoon ever? I can't think of a counter argument. 

Finally that night at 1 am, ran into my old friend, the Chantilly Donuts Delivery man, who, like on the other Saturday night 3 weeks ago at about 2 am EST time, willingly bequeathed to me one of his extra boxes of chocolate donuts. He remembered me from last time and asked for my number, but I declined with the excuse that it was "better for visits to be surprises" then planned via text message. I'll probably see him next Saturday now that I know his route.

The most gourmet thing I've ever created. 

Second to Krispy Kreme.

It's D-Day People

Listen live at www.georgetownradio.com  to hear me on my new show, ALPHABEAT, every Thursday morning from 11 am-12 pm.

Today's D-Day.

Artists whose last name begins with the letter "D" will be played.

What do you think next week will be?

At long last, las fotos

Rio's beach

Scaled this in running sneakers.

It was totally worth it.

This is true.

Portuguese (?) side street in Colonia, Uruguay

I was a little early for Colonia's sunset.

Two hours later.

We were disappointed by Colonia's other attractions.

Why my park was called "El Rosedal"

Staying warm and camping out in an construction site at 6 am.

View from caravan to Punta del Diablo.

Big rocks.

The crew.

Taken from a bus; when I knew that making the solo trip to Bariloche was worth it. 

Again, more evidence that Bariloche is beautiful.

Sfumato.

So athletic.

Hazy from ashes.

Lucky to capture a few hours of an ash-free view.

The cutest.

Post-Kayaking.

Oasis.

Misty of Chincoteague?

Above a waterfall.

The brightest bit among the green.

Trespassing.

Cannonball.

This is why Bariloche is the Queen of the Andean Lake District.

An interesting choice for a baby-clothing store.