Solo Spicy Ramen: A Notable Dining Experience

It was a rainy late morning last week. I had just spent the morning at a sterile, chemical-smelling doctor’s office, and grateful to be in the fresh air but famished, I was pondering my food move when I overheard someone on the bus say somewhere in a lunch-related sentence, “ramen.”

I have always been skeptical of the food ­fads that flow in and out of popular city foodie life, so I had yet to make the effort or have the craving to try what this fancified version of the dorm-room and starving-artist staple was doing with their own restaurants, and at $12 a bowl no less. But, I decided this indirect bus suggestion was the work of fate, and it was time to board the boat.

I didn’t want my first ramen experience to be a bust, so a quick UrbanSpoon search for DC’s best pointed me conveniently to a spot a couple blocks from my apartment – Sakuramen Bar on 18th Street in Adams Morgan, whose ground-level basement awning and entrance I had oddly never noticed, despite that I have strolled past hundreds of times.

Sakuramen is a small room of Asian décor with a modern twist. A community-style long bar table slices through the center of the space, donned with a bed of black stones and modern columns running through the middle of the table center, giving a relaxing, contemporary vibe that suggested serenity and peace reminiscent of a spa. An upbeat playlist of my favorite pop artists like Jason Mraz, Ingrid Michaelson and Matt Nathanson was chiming through the speakers at the perfect level of volume, and the room was filled lively chatter. Everyone in the place seemed to be in a good mood, and I immediately felt at ease – which can be hard when you eat out solo.

It was the height of lunch time. It was packed tight with diverse young professionals and families. With no host stand for seating, I wriggled my way through a large waiting party of students waiting for a table and flagged down one of the servers who immediately sat me towards the end of the center table. I was soon joined by a lively young conference-lanyard-donning crew and two fellow young women, who were alternating taking photos of each other with their spicy buns (<-- not a euphemism).

The menu is small, with just a few appetizer choices and a handful of ramen dishes with various vegetable and meats, making it clear that ramen is what Sakuramen is about. A ramen virgin, I was stumped, but starved. All I knew was I wanted something warm, spicy and hearty, so I quickly ordered the only thing on the menu that sounded somewhat familiar – the Spicy Miso and a cold ginger tea. My ginger tea came almost immediately. I was delighted to find it was fully fresh, with chunks of ginger root smashed into the base of a generous glass, releasing a perfect hint of sweet and spice – but not too much of either.

My piping hot bowl of ramen came not long after. A small, red, perfectly round “fireball” of spice sat atop the broth like a little planet amongst soft, fatty pork, corn, scallions and thick curly noodles – the fat, much happier cousin of the instant ramen kind of noodles I knew and (sort of) loved. So, this was definitely ramen. The smell tickled my nostrils and I was ready to dig in immediately, until the sight of my utensils struck me with anxiety.

It was chopsticks and a flat-bottomed spoon. I had learned from my travels to Korea (and from my sister, who lived there and tried desperately to teach me how to use chopsticks properly, to no avail) that eating a noodle soup with the right tools is an art. There is twisting, dipping, and shoving involved, all in a very particular order. Plus, the slurping – in Asia, the polite and proper way to eat – but which I was raised to know as the biggest no-no of table etiquette.

But my stomach beckoned, so challenge accepted. I mixed my fireball into my soup, shambolically maneuvered my first bite onto my spoon, and took a splattery slurp – and was completely surprised by my delight.

It was hot, sweet, salty, and spicy. The noodles were a perfect al dente texture. The tender pork, lined with unapologetic fat, pulled apart and melted with the slightest touch of my tongue. The corn and scallions gave a welcomed crunch of texture, as the chewy noodles softened with the broth in my mouth. Without expecting it, it was complete soupy bliss.

Perhaps it was the magic of the ramen’s perfection or my just my will to want it in my mouth, but I was soon somewhat gracefully getting evenly distributed bites of spicy miso via my utensil devices. My nose started to run and I removed my sweater as the heat as the spice ball slowly accumulated on my tongue. The servers, spotting my frequent snot breaks, brought me more napkins with a smile, offered another ginger tea and checked on me a few times, all with a friendly chuckle.

In the meantime, I noticed my aforementioned tablemates debating the menu. They were fellow skeptics of the ramen craze, but had heard that the Spicy Miso here at Sakuramen was all the rage I overheard. I couldn’t help but intervene with a hearty second of the rumors, telling them, “it’s freakin’ ridiculous.” Soon enough they were all slurping their own Spicy Misos, moaning “yums” as they chewed, sweating and sniffling along with me as we occasionally looked up from our bowls at each other in smiles and comments of agreement. As we ate, our shared ramen elation turned into an exchange about food and then some, and for a few minutes I conversed with complete strangers – something I think we should all do more often. And when is a better time to do so than over a shared meal, deliberate or not?

Needless to say, as far as ramen is concerned, I am a convert. My friends are getting an earful about it, and Sakuramen is going to see a lot of me – and who knows, perhaps I’ll make a new friend over my next solo Spicy Miso.

Sakuramen Bar is located at 2441 18th Street NW, Washington DC 20009

Still “Other,” Still Invisible: American Poverty Fifty Years On

Warning: Wonk-a-licious.  My latest, originally on SparkAction.org. Check it out & leave comments there, por favor.

In his groundbreaking book The Other America, Michael Harrington shone a light on a problem that until then was largely invisible: the striking fact that 25 percent of people in the richest country in the world were living in poverty.  

Fifty years later, the U.S. has a well-developed anti-poverty field and billions in federal dollars aimed at mitigating the deleterious impacts of poverty and helping families rise above its grasp and into self-sufficiency.

Inspired by the 50^th anniversary of Harrington’s book, more than 200 poverty advocates and experts gathered in Washington, DC, on July 10 for 50 Years Since The Other America, a conference to discuss poverty in the 21^st century. The conference was a joint project of Demos, The American Prospect, the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, and the Georgetown Center on Poverty, Inequality, and Public Policy.

It’s no surprise to learn, especially in today’s economy, that our so-called “safety net” has big holes and millions of poor are slipping through them every day. The depth of the problems still facing our country should give us pause.

Yet, America’s poor are still largely invisible.

This may be because it is not easy to talk about poverty. There are several ways to measure it, and the numbers can be confusing. And it’s not just about income or joblessness. Poverty is complex condition. It’s about equality, access to supports like child care and health care; it’s about well-being and housing stability, and hunger. It’s about the economy, demographics and access to opportunities. It’s a discussion that spans many topics and can quickly get abstract.

The conference challenged advocates to do more to talk about poverty in America, and talk about it in a way that leads to action.

 

What Do We Know Now?

When Harrington wrote his exposé, there were not yet official poverty measurements taken by the government—a quasi-official poverty line was established in 1965. (Here’s what researchers used before then.)

So what have we learned about poverty in the past 50 years? At first glance, the raw numbers suggest we are doing better. Still not great, but better. Where The Other America reported 25 percent of Americans living in poverty in 1962, today’s Census numbers put us at 15.2 percent. However, the poverty rate for adults without a high school diploma increased by 8 percent.

Of course, the debates about how we calculate poverty in the United States mean these numbers alone don’t tell the full story. (For more on the complexity, check out the University of Madison-Wisconsin’s reader-friendly overview of how poverty is measured in the U.S., and how it’s changing.)

One thing we do know for sure: the poorest segment of our population is now children. One in every five American children—and 1 in every 3 black children—is growing up in poverty, according to the U.S. Census Bureau’s September 2011 report.

One startling statistic that could rival any of Harrington’s stunners: Kathryn Edin of Harvard University asserted that 2.8 million U.S. kids today are living in families that provide less than $2 per day per person.

Plenty of evidence shows the negative impact poverty can have on early development and in later life—from graduation rates to postsecondary access and success, and job security.

 

Acknowledging What Works

Panelists on both sides of the partisan divide underscored that social programs—including social security, food stamps, Medicaid and CHIP—are a major reason the numbers aren’t worse. Without these programs, an estimated 40 million more people would be in poverty, according to Peter Edelman, Professor of Law and co-director of the Center on Poverty, Inequality, and Public Policy at Georgetown University.

Ron Haskins, Senior Fellow of Economic Studies and Co-Director of the Center on Children and Families, Budgeting for National Priorities at the Brookings Institution, added that if not for public policy and the tax system, the bottom 40 percent of those in poverty would have seen their incomes decline since the 1960s.

Demos, a multi-issue national organization that headed the conference, has an interactive Tracking Poverty and Policy Tool that has more info on this poverty-policy connection.

 

Creating a New Narrative

“We need a new narrative about the future, and that narrative has to be about children.” –Angela Blackwell of PolicyLink

Perhaps the biggest lesson we’ve learned since The Other America is that there is no easy answer to poverty. Poverty cannot be blamed on any single factor; it is one of the most complex, deeply ingrained, and pernicious issues that our country faces.

But that doesn’t mean we don’t have to find clear, accessible ways to talk about it. The conference challenged advocates and the media to do a better job communicating about poverty and its real-life impacts.

First, we can’t start a powerful conversation or advocate for improved policies or systems using just numbers. Panelist Sarit Gupta, Executive Director of Jobs with Justice, blew the whistle on the poverty field as a whole, reminding everyone that one huge missing piece of the poverty debate is heart. “These are peoples’ lives we’re talking about,” she said passionately.

A healthy poverty debate needs both numbers and real stories. It is our job as advocates to provide these things to those who are shielded from the reality of the American poor.

Angela Blackwell, founder and Chief Executive Officer of Policylink, speaking about the importance of quality education and opportunities, especially for low-income children, called on advocates and researchers to keep their eyes on kids. “We need a new narrative about the future, and that narrative has to be about the children.”

Second, we have to drive a dialogue that reaches to the top levels of American political power. Our elected officials get to the issues of poverty in roundabout—and politically savvy—ways. They rarely use the “p” word. But whether or not either candidate says the word, we need a better discussion about the reality.

Do our governors, Members of Congress, and Presidential candidates understand the reality? If they know that 1 in 5 U.S. kids are growing up in poverty, what do they plan to do about it. The numbers are a shameful reality for any country, let alone such a wealthy nation, and they aren’t going away on their own. We have 50 years of evidence to support that. So let’s start talking about what we’re going to do.

More resources:

• Full conference video recording and information of 50 Years Since The Other America.
   
• A comprehensive tracking of the 2012 Presidential candidate positions on reducing poverty from Spotlight on Poverty and Opportunity
   
• ChildTrends tracks the prevalence of child poverty over time and in key population groups, and researches the effects of programs and policies on children and families in poverty.
   
• America's Children in Brief: Key National Indicators of Well-Being 2012: A recent report using official federal statistics to describe the family and social environment, economic circumstances, health care, physical environment and safety, behavior, education, and health of America's children.
   
• SparkAction blog from Jan Richter: Could You Raise a Healthy Kid on $2 a Day?

Making my re-debut with an infographic.

I'm not even going to try to make excuses for my extraordinary neglect of this blog.  I won't even say that I'm back to my old blogging ways of contributing regularly, because I can't even hold myself to that, and if it's one thing I hate, it's empty promises!

So, anyway ... hi there.  Here's this cool infographic about how music helps you learn.

Compiled By: Online Colleges Guide

Pulitzer and Hearst, They Think They Got Us!

Since police and city leadership are doing their absolute best to break up the #Occupy Wall Street protests, it's necessary that I post this before it becomes obsolete.  (However, my hopes are high that Occupiers hold steadfast).  With that, I give you the most awesome meme I've seen this year.

"Tell 'em, Jack!"

Happy Day-Makers

I know I'm a major slacker on my blogging. I don't even want to talk about it.  Moving on ...

I've discovered lately that my day improves dramatically with the attention to a few very simple elements.  Elements that are, shockingly, in my control.  Now that I'm a working woman and all that, the monotony of days, despite the fact that I'm overwhelmingly busy 95% of the time, can make my week just completely unfun. And that makes no sense because I spend the majority of my time/week/life in the office. Sad, really ...

It's very self-help-guru-like, I know. I think I was inadvertently inspired by the O Magazine I flipped through last weekend. I'm becoming more aware of what gives me an extra boost when the day is more boring than watching CSPAN (sorry, DC), or more stressful than awaiting a metro train when the digital predictor lists no incoming trains (sorry, DC).  Here are some of my successful happy day-makers:

• I take a hot second, at least, to give a cahoot about what I look like in the morning. I wear my best clothes, try new combinations of jewelry, try a new eye shadow color, or even just use a differently scented body wash or spray.  The good news is that in these hipster days, I can get away with wearing a lot of things and be accepted, so I feel like my options have expanded.  Probably not, but the point is I try to walk out the door feeling like a hot mama, and I wind up feeling more confident and, subsequently, in a better mood.  Yes, I do care about what others think of me.  So shoot me.
  
  I read an article that said women make the impression of being smarter when they look nicer.  The feminist in me grumbled loudly, but the columnist actually had a point. If you have taken the time in the morning to put yourself together on the outside, you appear to be more prepared for the day on the inside--you got a decent amount of sleep, ate breakfast, and are more alert and ready to rock and roll. Of course, these assumptions probably aren't true (my nemesis of a decent bedtime = OnDemand), but you can at least fake it until you really are awake and alert ... around lunch time.

• I designate something entertaining to do on my commute. It actually makes me (gasp!) look forward to the time spent on the train or bus. For example I totally dig the Washington Post Express news, found everywhere in seat crooks and from modern-day newsies. The crosswords are nerd-tastically fun and I arrive at the office fully aware of current events.
  
  I also have tried to designate the listening of my favorite podcast, Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me! (you're welcome, NPR) for my time on the train or bus. Yes, I may be laughing out loud at seemingly nothing to my fellow transit riders, but I know all those who stare at me are just jealous that I'm having fun on my commute, and they're not.  

• Spotify.

• I have fresh fruit and/or veggies to snack on throughout the day.  I made a grocery trip just for my work fridge and stocked up on crunchy carrots, celery, cucumbers, etc.  It prevents from filling my hunger with the readily available office candy, and instead eating a snack that crunches like a food label mom would approve. It makes me feel way better about snacking. Even better, I negate all the calories I burn by chewing said veggies by absolutely drowning them in ranch dressing. Nom.

• I make a huge effort to actually take a lunch break, and to use it to get a change of scenery, and get some fresh air.  It works wonders to break up a day to stop looking at a computer screen and get out of the zone. Of course, I'm currently writing this from my desk computer during my lunch break.  Erm ...this is not a good example.

• G.Chat. 

• My desk is decorated with photos of my family, prints from my travels, a pretty calendar, and some posters/images/quotes that make me laugh.  It feels homey, comfortable, and better about being in my office when it's pitch black outside at 5:30pm.  Not cool, wintertime! 

So there you have it: a potential recipe for a day that's a little bit happier.  Because happiness is the core of everything.

I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet

Two earthquake-related thoughts about human nature

1. The first thing that happens after we encounter an earthquake is to wonder if anyone else felt it. The need for group validation is widespread and happens for events that don't involve earthquakes as well.
If those in the tribe feel something, we're likely to as well. That's why people look around before they stand up to offer an ovation at the end of a concert. Why should it matter if any of these strangers felt the way you did about the event? Because it does. A lot. Social proof matters. 

2. Organizations are busy evacuating buildings, even national monuments. Even though experience indicates that the most dangerous thing you can do is have tens of thousands of people run down the stairs, cram into the elevators and stand in the streets, we do it anyway. Why? Because people like to do something. Action, even ineffective action, is something societies seek out during times of uncertainty. 

[from Seth's Blog. Mad props.]   

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What a better time to resurrect my terribly neglected blog than the biggest natural event (can't quite call it a disaster) to happen to the east coast in a while?  Yes, what's been coined the "East Coast Earthquake" (flows well, doesn't it?) has "shaken" me back into blogging mode.

So, what can I blame for my neglect of my favorite writing space?  Summer?  Big life changes and new friends? Visits to and from some of my closest and favorite old friends and family?  My new job (yup, goodbye internship, hello salary!), the frustrating yet eventually fruitful hunt for a new apartment in downtown DC?  Increase in Twitter use?  My new-found obsessions with Spotify, Millionaire Matchmaker, or the Hunger Games trilogy?  (Yes, I finally got on that boat.  About to start the second!).  Alright, let's just go for all of them.

Well, the earthquake obviously wins as most blog-worthy for the past few weeks at least.  This was my first earthquake, and the experience honestly wasn't much of a doozy as one might think.  But the news and hype that surrounded it made it feel like a much bigger deal than it was, and I think my memory of it may be tainted with some of the overreactions that happened in downtown DC.  Screaming and running? Really?  Well I don't know, but I'm pretty sure my quake experience went as follows:

I was at work, jamming to T.Swift and Sugarland while doing some uploading to our sweet new site, and all of sudden, the house started shaking a little.  There's been tons of construction happening right next to my office building, so we all brushed it off as a big truck or drill.  But about 10 seconds in, it kept getting more intense--I thought my computer monitors were going to topple, and my picture frame had fallen over. Unsure what was happening, we just ran downstairs and out the door.  By the time a few of us got outside, it was over. The whole thing lasted about 20 seconds.

Considering our office is a historical 19th century Victorian House (that once belonged to the families of Robert E. Lee & Elizabeth Cady Stanton), we thought maybe something had gone on with the aged foundation. That was my first thought--that something was wrong with the house, which was why we all ran to get outside. But everyone else in the neighborhood was in a tizzy, and we heard that the building next to us and the grass were seen shaking as well.   Confusion ensued, and then we rushed back inside to listen to the radio.  It was an earthquake. It was really strong for this area--magnitude 5.9!  And what?!  It was felt all the way up to Toronto, and as far west as Michigan?  That's what got me.  I didn't think earthquakes could be that big.

(By the way, besides a couple ceiling cracks, the Cady-Lee held up okay.  This is a photo I took of the house in winter, but now seems like a good time to pause and admire its beauty.)

The first hour after the earthquake happened flew by. No one was really panicking--just confused. Lots of radios were on and phone calls being made--except cell phones were down, and that made a lot of us nervous and reminiscent of 9/11, considering how the 10th anniversary is sneaking up on us.  As for me, after soaking in what had happened, writing emails to family telling them I was safe, and having to restart my computer because my TweetDeck was throttled to the max (searching for "earthquake" was probably not the smartest thing to do) it took a while to get back into "work" mode. The radio and news confirmed that it was widespread, but there were no injuries, and the extent of the damage could pretty much be summed up by this:

I know, it's horrible.  But we're okay.  (If only that photo and association, now going viral, were my idea).  

And at about 3:00 when things were starting to calm down, floating through the office through our intercom was the lovely sounds of the most earthquake-appropriate song ever:

The song's getting tons more hits on YouTube today.  Way to go, Carole!

So, with a healthy dose of stress relief--including a plan to wrap oneself in foam in case of aftershocks-- the whole office was busting a gut.  And, unlike the rest of downtown DC, no one went home early.

Anywho, thank you, quake, for rumbling my butt back into blogging.  The timing is good anyway--just as when I was a student, this time of year inspires me to put my head in the game, turn a new page, and rejuvenate myself with an overflowing but highly enjoyable schedule.  Which will, along with dance, writing, friends, and food, be sufficiently full of earthquake jokes ... at least until Hurricane Irene hits.  Please, Irene, be kind, we've been through a lot.

In the meantime, I'm going to go eat myself some Ranch Quakes. 

True Life: I Needed College, and Not Just For My Degree

This article is cross-posted on SparkAction.org.  It would be sweet if you checked it out.

***

The word on the street these days is that college is losing its worth.  "Why drop thousands upon thousands of dollars for tuition in an economy that is far less likely to find you a job that will pay you enough to make up for it?", people are saying.

In the scraping for jobs in this sad economy, a college degree--in all its glory--is losing prestige.  It can’t promise what it used to, and that’s throwing a lot of us off. We grew up being told that doing well in school and going to college would be the key to success.

Now the entire idea of higher education is being questioned.  Suggestions have emerged to skip the higher education experience altogether and get into the job market ASAP to save yourself the debt and frustration that often comes with a degree.

It is totally understandable that we’re focused on the economic crisis.  It’s a really, really big problem, and college tuitions are reflecting that.  Some re-evaluation is absolutely necessary and depending on your financial situation, other options have to be considered.  Even those of us who loved our time at college are frustrated with how hard we worked and how little it has, so far, paid us back. Literally.

But in focusing only on the economic payoff of college we’re missing something here.  Something big.  Something that is that, dare I say, even more valuable than a high paying career.

That’s the elegant point made by UCLA professor Mike Rose in his recent NPR commentary, "Value of College Extends Beyond Paycheck." Rose brings us back to the big picture—the purpose of education, what it means to be educated, and how that notion may be changing in a world obsessed with monetary gain.  He points out that the non-economic value of a higher education experience is that it expands beyond gaining a degree that will lead to a good job. His argument is a refreshing reminder to look at the broader issue and re-evaluate how we treat higher education as financial belts tighten.

"If all we talk about … is the economic pay off of education, that ends up effecting finally what we teach and how we teach it. It ends up effecting the way we define what it means to be educated." - Mike Rose

I realized this is an argument that has been missing in discussions of the value of college these days.  In fact, it gave me a big slap in the face for not thinking of it myself, in spite of all my pro-college nerdiness.  I too had been so caught up in the economic woes of the conversation and my own challenges that I had forgotten to take a step back and remember what I loved about college.  And that most of those reasons had nothing to do with working towards a career.

College made me a better person. My liberal arts college education encouraged me to dabble in different fields and schools of thought before settling into my major.  So, this argument goes hand-in-hand with the one that has been going on for years about the value of a liberal arts approach in higher education.
I knew Rose couldn’t be the first one to take the stance of valuable non-economic factors of higher education.  I wanted to see what others had to say about it, so I Googled, “why is a college degree important?” hoping for some other expert advice. My first page of results was this:

(or see for yourself)

Do you notice a pattern?  This whole first page tells us that the only reason to get a degree is to make more money.  That made me angry.  Where are those other scholars and professors and big-time advocates for higher education?  Those who believe there’s more to a degree than what translates into dollars?  With everyone’s heads stuck in the money muck, the argument for college beyond a good paycheck is a lonely one.

Why school?
 Rose talks about a “civil purpose of education” that existed in the Jeffersonian era—a belief that you needed to be educated in order to function in a society. Back then, they didn’t get degrees so they could get hired.  They read books and had arguments so they could just be in an intelligent way.  Things have obviously changed a lot since then.  But I think our forefathers were on the right track.

When I was in college, I got emotionally invested in my studies. I was studying things like ethics, gender identity and communication, and listening.  I walked out of class with tears in my eyes on more than one occasion. It was pretty amazing. If you're thinking, wow, this girl is a complete nerd!, you’re right.  But my point is that the chance to go to college and take classes like that stirred up my senses and made me realize that there is so much to learn.  It humbled me in the best way possible.  It ultimately made me want to write, and here I am.  Yes, I got a degree, and I know I deserved it.  But that's definitely not all I got.

Nothing can change the value of what happens when we get an education.  I believe what I gained in my four years of college are skills, perspectives, and lessons that I would be much more unsuccessful person without.  It gave me the ability to think about the world with an open and informed mind, the ability to engage in conversation, and the desire to feed my curiosity and explore new ideas.

So, what good does that do me?  I can have intelligent conversations with people of all ages.  I know where to look if I want to learn more about something.  I can listen in ways that make conversations productive.  I can stand my ground. I can be adventurous.  I can be ambitious, respectful, curious, and independent.  I can make myself who I want to be.  To me, that’s what a successful life is about. 

Of course, getting that degree at the end wasn’t half bad either. But what we need to remember is that a college degree represents so much about a person—what they went through to get it, and how they’ve come out more intelligent, more resourceful, and more mature than their freshman-selves.

That is what education is for, isn’t it?  Being more prepared for what’s next? What we learn in our educational journey helps us function in life before, after, and during the nine-to-five grind, and that is what we need to remember most when jobs are sparse.  In fact, the life skills that have come about through my education are probably the most valuable things I have going for me these days.

“The idea of intellectual growth that is not just learning things to make a living, but also learning things to enable you to do things with your life, enable you to find interests and pursuits that in some way or another may be expand the way you see things.  There’s a social benefit for sure—learning to think together, learning how to attack problems together, learning how to disagree, being exposed to other points of view … there’s multiple reasons that have played in and out for our justifications  for schooling.” - Mike Rose

The Baby and the Bathwater
We’re experiencing a crisis of value in this country. Especially with things on edge already, we don’t want to throw the baby out with the bathwater, but we’re having a hard time figuring out what the “baby” is. We view our most “imminent threat” as the economy and we’re getting tunnel-vision.  In the frantic, desperate attempts to solve our problems we tend to forget about the big picture – the foundations of our intellectual selves, which we truly need to focus on in order to pull ourselves out of this mess.

So what really is the purpose of education?  In a perfect world, it is to learn how to live well.  That usually translates into getting hired and being able to flex your brain muscles.  But clearly it’s not working out like that for many Americans these days.

So, I think we should take a step back and take an old school look at, well, school.  We need to remember that no matter one’s ambition or the higher education experience available to them--technical, vocational, liberal arts, private, public, two-year, four-year--that there is always more to learn.  Do we really want 18-year olds thrown into the job market to fend for themselves?  And miss the opportunity to learn more about the world they are working for?  I know I don't.  Young people need that time to grow and learn, and so does the well-being of our country.

Your present, blog.

For your first birthday, blog, I give you a new color palette.  I hope it makes you feel fresh and renewed, like springtime.

Happy birthday, Blog!

A year ago today, this blog was born. Though with three short entries, it was the beginning of something that has kept me motivated to think, reflect, and write, and I'm glad for it.  I remember the day well-- it was the first night in the summer apartment I was subletting in North Carolina, anticipating the next day, for it would be my first day interning with the American Dance Festival.   It was ridiculously hot and humid outside and inside (similar to where I am today), and I was content, nervous, and excited looking forward to what was in store for me.  It was an amazing summer.  Again, not too different to where I am now, a year later, in an exciting new place with an open road in front of me.

In this year, I've made some blogosphere friends and found writers like me who inspire me to write about whatever the heck I want, through 20something Bloggers and others. I've also learned a lot about myself.  So, here's to hoping I can continue to inspire myself and others with this blogness business as the years go on.

How to celebrate?  By postponing until I have time to write a real entry instead of being on Blogger when I'm at the office?  Sure.  In the interim, I'll leave my blog with a photo of a delicious-looking birthday cupcake.  A big thank you to my readers-- friends, family, random people who stumble upon my site, blog friends who I hope to someday meet in person, and even the haters (because I have so many).

ROC-City Living

Moving to a new city was so exciting.  I loved the new sights, new smells, new people, new bars (but NOT the new rent ...).  I can safely say that I've fallen in love with DC, and with a heavy heart, have told my best friends, still residing in my hometown, that I'm probably not coming back in the fall.  It's nice to be entering this new phase in my life in a new city, but coming back home to visit is just as nice.   I find so much comfort in driving around surrounded by license plates that are the same state as mine, not having to dial an area code when I make a phone call, and wondering when I'm going to run into someone from high school at the grocery store (just kidding about the last part, that is actually usually the opposite of comforting).  Home, sweet home.

In my three-day weekend, I packed in as many things "Rochester" as I possibly could.  And I did a pretty solid job:
First and foremost, I got to see all the wonderful people who still live there.  Just loverly.

Wegmans (x 3 times). Duh.  Sub shop, pastry shop, and a collection of delicious samples including sirloin with chutney sauce and grapefruit sorbet.  Score.

A 2 a.m. garbage plate.  A Rochester classic.  Well, not the 2 a.m. part, but it often coincides. Do you like to eat the most calorie-filled foods after a night of partying?  Then get yourself to Rochester for a garbage plate.  For a garbage plate, you pick your main ingredient-- hamburger, cheeseburger, white or red hot (all sans the bun), grilled cheese, egg, etc., and then pick your "fillers" like homefries, mac salad, macaroni and cheese, baked beans, etc.  It gets drizzled with a meaty hot sauce and your selection of condiments, and voila!  Chop, mix, consume.  Sound nasty?  Calorie and digestion wise, it is. But I try not to think about it... ever.  It's worth every greasy, fatty bite. My favorite combination is the classic cheeseburger plate with homefries, macaroni salad, more hot sauce, and dash of ketchup.  You're not a true Rochestarian 'til you've had one of these.  (Not my photo, but you have to see it to believe it):

(photo credit)

Highland Park, where the Lilac Festival happens annually.  I missed the festival, but I got to see the lilacs before they went away for the season. Also at Highland Park is a beautiful Vietnam War Memorial for Rochester native veterans, which I had walked through before, but wanted to visit again in honor of this weekend's holiday. It's a very nice memorial, with plaques with names of local fallen soldiers, each on its own plaque.  The plaques also say where each soldier went to high school--it was quite strange to see so many names from my high school.  It reminds me that things like this hit close to home.  The plaques spiral down a walkway that leads to larger area with more names, quotes, etc.  One of my favorite parts of the memorial is a large plaque along the sidewalk with a quote from The Things They Carried.  It's a book I read when I was in high school, but I still remember how powerful it was.

Sinbad's.  Best Mediterranean food EVER.  Sambusek plate?  Yes, please.

Abbott's ice cream.  Nothing like it.

I also was able to visit the store at which I worked for a few months when I was living at home, where I befriended many co-workers and loved being around beautiful jewelry and home decor.

Not so Rochester but still fun--the movie Tangled.  Funny adorable, and so Disney.  They wil never stop being awesome, and I love that I can still enjoy their stuff as an adult.  They can make a horse one's favorite character in a movie about humans.  Brilliant!

(credit)

I hope everyone had a day off on this holiday weekend!

And enter the coincidence: As I type this from the gate at the airport, playing over the terminal speakers is Carrie Underwood crooning "Home, sweet home."  You said it, Carrie.  This is a new phase in my life, but no matter what, Rochester will always be home, sweet home.