Wishlist Wednesdays: Travel in a Hot Air Balloon...

...In a cocktail dress.

Travelling in a hot air balloon seems cool. It also seems like something that's on a lot of people's list of things to do (not including our recent Balloon Boy, who never made it to the air, hehe). Anyhow, when I started looking into places to take this hot air balloon trip, I noticed a trend among the companies offering the trip. Many of them offered champagne toasts at the end of the flight. So...I figured...why not be dressed up for that champagne toast?

So I will be travelling Dorothy-style in a hot air balloon. I found some tickets for a company in Upstate New York, good until October 2010. I have the dress, and I hope to be setting the date sometime in the Spring: the perfect weather for a cocktail dress.

Cheers :)

Tasty Tuesdays: Highlands

Formerly the location of the original Mocha Hut in DC, Highlands began its transition by extending the coffee shop's hours and offering dinner specials, something the shop had never seen before. In the 14th St. heights neighborhood, there are few restaurants nearby that stay open past six or seven, especially on weekdays. It immediately became a hit among local business owners looking for dinner during after-hours work.

Don't get me wrong- Highlands doesn't look like a living room, as it is a professional establishment, but there's much about it that makes you feel at home. A smaller venue, it is not uncommon for Chef Garay, his wife, or his children to come and sit with a solo customer or familiar faces to ask how they are enjoying their meal, or talk of the day's happenings.

You walk into photographs and artwork on the wall from local artists and a mural that was recently painted on the west wall. When the weather allows, the fixtures around the front windows are opened, and tables are available outlooking 14th St. Heights.

When first deciding what I wanted to order, I asked Chef Moe Garay to surprise me. I prefaced by giving my dietary food restrictions. Then I began listing things I just don't eat. The list was getting longer until Chef Garay stopped me. "How can you be a critic if you don't eat anything?" he said, with a smile. So true. I laughed and started over by saying "surprise me."

And surprised, I was.

Soon after I had placed my surprise order, this beautiful number was brought to my table:

Shrimp Linguini with a white wine sauce. It seems simple enough, but I had never seen it made this way. Green, red, and yellow peppers were shredded on the top, which added a unique flavor to the entire dish. I was surprised how much I enjoyed this rich flavor, since peppers had originally been on my list of foods to stay away from. I was, in the end, glad they were there.

A white wine sauce can take many textures. This one was neither too thick or too thin, complimenting the linguini shrimp, and other vegetables rather than overpowering them.

We mustn't forget Highlands' special fruit drink, which I ordered after a customer's recommendation. Freshly made, it is served with ice and topped with different fruit chippings. It is definitely made for those who have a palate for sweet treats, like smoothies and cordials.

Chef Moe Garay describes his cuisine at Highlands as "Southern cuisine with a Latin touch". As soon as he said this, I liked it and wished I had coined it myself. With a menu to satisfy the diverse palates that 14th St. Heights represent, Highlands is that neighborhood restaurant combining the comforts of being at home with the luxury of eating out and discovering fine cuisine.

Highlands is located at: 4706 14th St NWWashington, DC 20011

Fresh Fridays...I'm a CLERK!

I just wanted to give my students at Cardozo High School a shoutout! Today, they have a home football game against Maret at 3:00 pm! If you'd like to join me in rooting them on, and you're the first one to find me, I'll buy you something from the concession stand :)

GO CLERKS!!!

Spiritual Sundays: Finding the Positive and Appreciating it

I used to think that a junior high school teacher was to blame for my hatred for math. Until then, math had never been a struggle for me. In fact, it was a subject that I felt very confident about. The assessments I took prior to junior high placed me in the honors pre-algebra class. I was only a few points from Algebra I, but was advised to stay put. So I did.



At the end of the first advisory, I was very surprised to find that I had gotten a C in her class. The day I got my report card, I walked to her classroom on the first floor after school. I think it was room 104, but I'm not sure. I asked her if I could talk to her about my grade, and began to explain to her how I had calculated my grade over and over in class, and was sure that averaged a B, with a possible A- from extra credit. After my explanation, she seemed unconvinced. She looked me in the eye, and said "You don't do A work."



I was crushed. I asked her if she would check my grade one more time. She walked to her desk, checked the gridded grading book and confirmed that she had been correct.



It was a long bus ride home. I had never gotten a C in my life. I was disappointed in myself. I faced my parents in tears.



When my mother attended the parent-teacher conference, my teacher had a different story to tell. Apparently, she had read the grids in her grading book wrong. My grade was supposed to be a B. My mother relayed this to me and my grade was changed. When I returned to school, my teacher asked me if my mother had talked to me. She never apologized.



I still remember it as if it happened yesterday.



As I begin my student teaching, I often reflect on what makes an effective teacher. I think of my past teachers and the positive and negative influence they had on me. I find myself visiting classrooms and making phone calls to the teachers who uplifted me along the way. I wish I did it more- it is important to me that they know how they affected me.



There is also much to be said about teachers like my math teacher. I learned two valuable lessons from her: don't stand for less than you deserve and always, ALWAYS work hard. I will spend the rest of my life proving my math teacher's words and the words of others like her wrong. I will always take pride in my work because I work hard.



Last week, I decided to find her. I sat in front of a Google Search Engine and entered her last name and my school (Students seldom ever remember their teacher's first names, I imagine). Years ago, I had unsuccessfully tried to find her. This year, a death notice was the first thing to pop up. Sure enough, my teacher had passed only a couple months before.



She had worked as a high school math teacher for 26 years. Then she worked as a college professor before she retired. She must have missed it- she returned for six years before finally retiring again a year after I was in her class.



A part of me wishes I could tell her how her words affected me. I wanted to thank her for the lessons, and tell her that I forgive her for the way in which she taught them to me. I wanted to tell her that I was an aspiring educator, and that in some way, she had helped me understand that the field of education is where I belong. But, just as life has a way of reminding us that everything happens for a reason, I like to believe that the sentiment reached her, somehow.



Peace to my junior high school pre-algebra teacher. And thanks, for all you were to me.

Wishlist Wednesdays: Marciac

Many posts ago, I spoke of my love for sunflowers and jazz. On August 7th, I began the adventure that brought my back to my favorite place [to date] in the world: Marciac, France.

When I was in grade school, My aunt Bebbie promised me a trip anywhere I wanted in the world if I did well in school. It was to be a high school graduation present. Four years after graduation, I decided to take Bebbie up on this offer the week in between the rigor of my graduate summer courses and my Fall semester. A week's time would not be enough for me to even begin discovering the Motherland the way I would like to, and I wanted to go somewhere I knew for sure I'd enjoy, as I wouldn't be expecting another break like it until Christmas. Remembering that revisitng Marciac and taking pictures among the sunflowers was on my list of things to do, we set off from Dulles airport with my proficient French and Bebbie's proficient charades. It was an adventure to remember.



Flying out, our connecting flight was in London, and then from London we flew into Toulouse. Toulouse is about 3 hours away from Marciac, and about 2 hours away from the town next to Marciac in which we were staying. It just happened to work out that the week I had off from graduate school fell in the middle of the Marciac Jazz Festival. I hadn't been to the festival in nine years! As popular as it is in Southern France, finding a room in a town where there is only one hotel and few bed and breakfasts, we booked a place in Tarbes, which was 45 minutes away by car.



I had been too excited to sleep more than a couple hours on the plane before watching two movies on the screen on the back of the person in front of me's seat. I remember when everyone had to watch the same movie, and you couldn't rewind! Those days are apparently over...



About 9 hours after we took off from Dulles, I was more than happy to get out of my airline seat and reunite with my luggage. I turned my iPhone on, hoping to find some internet so that I could get directions from Toulouse to our hotel room. I recognized a wifi connection, but was not willing to start off my stay in France with paying for airline internet on my iPhone. So...Bebbie and I got the keys and a couple maps from National and went on our way. The maps ended up not being helpful at all, but we somehow managed to drive the entire two hours to Hotel De L'Avenue on nothing but green signs. After the nine hours of travelling, I could hardly keep my eyes open.



We pulled onto the street where our hotel was, and wondered where the "free" parking was that had been advertised on the hotel website. We made our own parking space when we saw a sign on the hotel door that said it was closed. CLOSED! We had made reservations...

I walked into this bookstore called Recup' Livres on the same street and asked them in my rusty French about the hotel. They let us use the phone, but they didn't answer. Then, they looked up some other local hotels to go to in case we were unable to get the hotel.

Then, my aunt and I remembered that in France (an whole bunch of other places in the world other than America), they take this two-hour break in the middle of the day. We had arrived towards the end of the break, and the main attendant at the hotel showed up soon after we had stumbled into the bookstore. I across the street to catch her attention, walking in with her as she looked for the reservation book. My aunt brought her bag, and we were shown to our room.

Wanting to save money, Bebbie and I chose a two-star hotel, and weren't expecting anything fancy. We opened the door to a quaint little room, a queen-sized bed with flower print bedding and little desk in the corner. The bathroom had wooden slide door, a bidet, and a toilet whose seat fell off when I tried to lift the seat. Bebbie and I laughed. The state of our hotel room became an ongoing joke the whole trip. We often referred to the free air conditioning (the window), our mini fridge (the windowsill), the safety deposit box (the closet), and the delightable room service (we couldn't find anything symbolic of that, lol).

Exploration of our room was about all we were up for after our long flight and drive to Tarbes. We napped the afternoon away and walked the town at night looking for a place to eat...

To be continued...Next Wednesday? :)

Super Saturdays: A song for my Deuce

Because everyone gets a little homesick...

Now I said I wasn't going to do a disclaimer...but I've been playing the guitar for a good...2.5- 3 weeks now. That's all, lol



The words are:

Little girl in the big city
Far away from home
Can’t predict her life’s direction
She’s feelin all alone
When your heart is heavy
Promptly dry your eyes
Because after the rain
There’ll be brighter skies

Shoot for the moon
If you land on a star
Then you won’t have far to go
Shoot for the moon
if you fall on a star
Then you’re not that far

When you’re workin job to job
It’s hard to make ends meet
At the end of a 12-hr work day
It’s hard to stay on your feet
But that feeling of accomplishment
When you’re cashin your first check
Should help you keep from feelin like a total wreck

Shoot for the moon
If you land on a star
Then you won’t have far to go
Shoot for the moon
if you fall on a star
Then you’re not that far

We’ve lost a lot of people
We thought were in their prime
They were given the gift of life
And fell to the game of time
Keep them in your heart
And in their memory seize the day
And when we’re chasing our dreams
They don’t seem that far away

Shoot for the moon
If you land on a star
Then you won’t have far to go
Shoot for the moon
if you fall on a star
Then you’re not that far

So there’s my song
Written just for you
I’d jump a plane to stop your pain
I know you know it’s true
But my life’s here
And yours is about to start
And I’m a call away
So we’ll never be apart

Shoot for the moon
If you land on a star
Then you won’t have far to go
Shoot for the moon
if you fall on a star
Then you’re not that far

Throwback Thursdays...

In the middle of a nap today, I got a couple text messages from some friends saying that Michael Jackson was either sick or has passed away. I figured since they varied, I wouldn't believe either. It wasn't until I signed into facebook and nearly all my friends had MJ references in their statuses that I realized it was true. It's a crazy day in history and technology when you can check a series of facebook statuses to confirm some news you heard. A crazy day.

With that being said, my thought go out to Michael Jackson's family. Mourning the loss of a relative is never easy, but mourning the loss of a family member who also is a public figure is even more complicated. I hope they find peace.

In the theme of Throwback Thursdays, I remember being very young, listening to Michael Jackson's "Up Against the Wall" album when they first started printing CDs. I would sit in my mother's office, listening to it in its entirety, dancing, memorizing the words. I remember trying to do the moonwalk, and not "mastering" it until I was grown. I remember watching concerts on TV and seeing rows of girls passing out as he looked in their direction. This year, I did the moonwalk for a group of seven year olds, and I realized that they never had the pleasure.
I hope we can keep his legacy alive...and I hope our generation and those after will bring artists of that caliber. Michael Jackson will be missed by people of all ages.